summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/old/files/relative.htm
blob: 64cb77cbea5445dc980065b0224d82ed85796a8b (plain) 
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268
9269
9270
9271
9272
9273
9274
9275
9276
9277
9278
9279
9280
9281
9282
9283
9284
9285
9286
9287
9288
9289
9290
9291
9292
9293
9294
9295
9296
9297
9298
9299
9300
9301
9302
9303
9304
9305
9306
9307
9308
9309
9310
9311
9312
9313
9314
9315
9316
9317
9318
9319
9320
9321
9322
9323
9324
9325
9326
9327
9328
9329
9330
9331
9332
9333
9334
9335
9336
9337
9338
9339
9340
9341
9342
9343
9344
9345
9346
9347
9348
9349
9350
9351
9352
9353
9354
9355
9356
9357
9358
9359
9360
9361
9362
9363
9364
9365
9366
9367
9368
9369
9370
9371
9372
9373
9374
9375
9376
9377
9378
9379
9380
9381
9382
9383
9384
9385
9386
9387
9388
9389
9390
9391
9392
9393
9394
9395
9396
9397
9398
9399
9400
9401
9402
9403
9404
9405
9406
9407
9408
9409
9410
9411
9412
9413
9414
9415
9416
9417
9418
9419
9420
9421
9422
9423
9424
9425
9426
9427
9428
9429
9430
9431
9432
9433
9434
9435
9436
9437
9438
9439
9440
9441
9442
9443
9444
9445
9446
9447
9448
9449
9450
9451
9452
9453
9454
9455
9456
9457
9458
9459
9460
9461
9462
9463
9464
9465
9466
9467
9468
9469
9470
9471
9472
9473
9474
9475
9476
9477
9478
9479
9480
9481
9482
9483
9484
9485
9486
9487
9488
9489
9490
9491
9492
9493
9494
9495
9496
9497
9498
9499
9500
9501
9502
9503
9504
9505
9506
9507
9508
9509
9510
9511
9512
9513
9514
9515
9516
9517
9518
9519
9520
9521
9522
9523
9524
9525
9526
9527
9528
9529
9530
9531
9532
9533
9534
9535
9536
9537
9538
9539
9540
9541
9542
9543
9544
9545
9546
9547
9548
9549
9550
9551
9552
9553
9554
9555
9556
9557
9558
9559
9560
9561
9562
9563
9564
9565
9566
9567
9568
9569
9570
9571
9572
9573
9574
9575
9576
9577
9578
9579
9580
9581
9582
9583
9584
9585
9586
9587
9588
9589
9590
9591
9592
9593
9594
9595
9596
9597
9598
9599
9600
9601
9602
9603
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608
9609
9610
9611
9612
9613
9614
9615
9616
9617
9618
9619
9620
9621
9622
9623
9624
9625
9626
9627
9628
9629
9630
9631
9632
9633
9634
9635
9636
9637
9638
9639
9640
9641
9642
9643
9644
9645
9646
9647
9648
9649
9650
9651
9652
9653
9654
9655
9656
9657
9658
9659
9660
9661
9662
9663
9664
9665
9666
9667
9668
9669
9670
9671
9672
9673
9674
9675
9676
9677
9678
9679
9680
9681
9682
9683
9684
9685
9686
9687
9688
9689
9690
9691
9692
9693
9694
9695
9696
9697
9698
9699
9700
9701
9702
9703
9704
9705
9706
9707
9708
9709
9710
9711
9712
9713
9714
9715
9716
9717
9718
9719
9720
9721
9722
9723
9724
9725
9726
9727
9728
9729
9730
9731
9732
9733
9734
9735
9736
9737
9738
9739
9740
9741
9742
9743
9744
9745
9746
9747
9748
9749
9750
9751
9752
9753
9754
9755
9756
9757
9758
9759
9760
9761
9762
9763
9764
9765
9766
9767
9768
9769
9770
9771
9772
9773
9774
9775
9776
9777
9778
9779
9780
9781
9782
9783
9784
9785
9786
9787
9788
9789
9790
9791
9792
9793
9794
9795
9796
9797
9798
9799
9800
9801
9802
9803
9804
9805
9806
9807
9808
9809
9810
9811
9812
9813
9814
9815
9816
9817
9818
9819
9820
9821
9822
9823
9824
9825
9826
9827
9828
9829
9830
9831
9832
9833
9834
9835
9836
9837
9838
9839
9840
9841
9842
9843
9844
9845
9846
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851
9852
9853
9854
9855
9856
9857
9858
9859
9860
9861
9862
9863
9864
9865
9866
9867
9868
9869
9870
9871
9872
9873
9874
9875
9876
9877
9878
9879
9880
9881
9882
9883
9884
9885
9886
9887
9888
9889
9890
9891
9892
9893
9894
9895
9896
9897
9898
9899
9900
9901
9902
9903
9904
9905
9906
9907
9908
9909
9910
9911
9912
9913
9914
9915
9916
9917
9918
9919
9920
9921
9922
9923
9924
9925
9926
9927
9928
9929
9930
9931
9932
9933
9934
9935
9936
9937
9938
9939
9940
9941
9942
9943
9944
9945
9946
9947
9948
9949
9950
9951
9952
9953
9954
9955
9956
9957
9958
9959
9960
9961
9962
9963
9964
9965
9966
9967
9968
9969
9970
9971
9972
9973
9974
9975
9976
9977
9978
9979
9980
9981
9982
9983
9984
9985
9986
9987
9988
9989
9990
9991
9992
9993
9994
9995
9996
9997
9998
9999
10000
10001
10002
10003
10004
10005
10006
10007
10008
10009
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014
10015
10016
10017
10018
10019
10020
10021
10022
10023
10024
10025
10026
10027
10028
10029
10030
10031
10032
10033
10034
10035
10036
10037
10038
10039
10040
10041
10042
10043
10044
10045
10046
10047
10048
10049
10050
10051
10052
10053
10054
10055
10056
10057
10058
10059
10060
10061
10062
10063
10064
10065
10066
10067
10068
10069
10070
10071
10072
10073
10074
10075
10076
10077
10078
10079
10080
10081
10082
10083
10084
10085
10086
10087
10088
10089
10090
10091
10092
10093
10094
10095
10096
10097
10098
10099
10100
10101
10102
10103
10104
10105
10106
10107
10108
10109
10110
10111
10112
10113
10114
10115
10116
10117
10118
10119
10120
10121
10122
10123
10124
10125
10126
10127
10128
10129
10130
10131
10132
10133
10134
10135
10136
10137
10138
10139
10140
10141
10142
10143
10144
10145
10146
10147
10148
10149
10150
10151
10152
10153
10154
10155
10156
10157
10158
10159
10160
10161
10162
10163
10164
10165
10166
10167
10168
10169
10170
10171
10172
10173
10174
10175
10176
10177
10178
10179
10180
10181
10182
10183
10184
10185
10186
10187
10188
10189
10190
10191
10192
10193
10194
10195
10196
10197
10198
10199
10200
10201
10202
10203
10204
10205
10206
10207
10208
10209
10210
10211
10212
10213
10214
10215
10216
10217
10218
10219
10220
10221
10222
10223
10224
10225
10226
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231
10232
10233
10234
10235
10236
10237
10238
10239
10240
10241
10242
10243
10244
10245
10246
10247
10248
10249
10250
10251
10252
10253
10254
10255
10256
10257
10258
10259
10260
10261
10262
10263
10264
10265
10266
10267
10268
10269
10270
10271
10272
10273
10274
10275
10276
10277
10278
10279
10280
10281
10282
10283
10284
10285
10286
10287
10288
10289
10290
10291
10292
10293
10294
10295
10296
10297
10298
10299
10300
10301
10302
10303
10304
10305
10306
10307
10308
10309
10310
10311
10312
10313
10314
10315
10316
10317
10318
10319
10320
10321
10322
10323
10324
10325
10326
10327
10328
10329
10330
10331
10332
10333
10334
10335
10336
10337
10338
10339
10340
10341
10342
10343
10344
10345
10346
10347
10348
10349
10350
10351
10352
10353
10354
10355
10356
10357
10358
10359
10360
10361
10362
10363
10364
10365
10366
10367
10368
10369
10370
10371
10372
10373
10374
10375
10376
10377
10378
10379
10380
10381
10382
10383
10384
10385
10386
10387
10388
10389
10390
10391
10392
10393
10394
10395
10396
10397
10398
10399
10400
10401
10402
10403
10404
10405
10406
10407
10408
10409
10410
10411
10412
10413
10414
10415
10416
10417
10418
10419
10420
10421
10422
10423
10424
10425
10426
10427
10428
10429
10430
10431
10432
10433
10434
10435
10436
10437
10438
10439
10440
10441
10442
10443
10444
10445
10446
10447
10448
10449
10450
10451
10452
10453
10454
10455
10456
10457
10458
10459
10460
10461
10462
10463
10464
10465
10466
10467
10468
10469
10470
10471
10472
10473
10474
10475
10476
10477
10478
10479
10480
10481
10482
10483
10484
10485
10486
10487
10488
10489
10490
10491
10492
10493
10494
10495
10496
10497
10498
10499
10500
10501
10502
10503
10504
10505
10506
10507
10508
10509
10510
10511
10512
10513
10514
10515
10516
10517
10518
10519
10520
10521
10522
10523
10524
10525
10526
10527
10528
10529
10530
10531
10532
10533
10534
10535
10536
10537
10538
10539
10540
10541
10542
10543
10544
10545
10546
10547
10548
10549
10550
10551
10552
10553
10554
10555
10556
10557
10558
10559
10560
10561
10562
10563
10564
10565
10566
10567
10568
10569
10570
10571
10572
10573
10574
10575
10576
10577
10578
10579
10580
10581
10582
10583
10584
10585
10586
10587
10588
10589
10590
10591
10592
10593
10594
10595
10596
10597
10598
10599
10600
10601
10602
10603
10604
10605
10606
10607
10608
10609
10610
10611
10612
10613
10614
10615
10616
10617
10618
10619
10620
10621
10622
10623
10624
10625
10626
10627
10628
10629
10630
10631
10632
10633
10634
10635
10636
10637
10638
10639
10640
10641
10642
10643
10644
10645
10646
10647
10648
10649
10650
10651
10652
10653
10654
10655
10656
10657
10658
10659
10660
10661
10662
10663
10664
10665
10666
10667
10668
10669
10670
10671
10672
10673
10674
10675
10676
10677
10678
10679
10680
10681
10682
10683
10684
10685
10686
10687
10688
10689
10690
10691
10692
10693
10694
10695
10696
10697
10698
10699
10700
10701
10702
10703
10704
10705
10706
10707
10708
10709
10710
10711
10712
10713
10714
10715
10716
10717
10718
10719
10720
10721
10722
10723
10724
10725
10726
10727
10728
10729
10730
10731
10732
10733
10734
10735
10736
10737
10738
10739
10740
10741
10742
10743
10744
10745
10746
10747
10748
10749
10750
10751
10752
10753
10754
10755
10756
10757
10758
10759
10760
10761
10762
10763
10764
10765
10766
10767
10768
10769
10770
10771
10772
10773
10774
10775
10776
10777
10778
10779
10780
10781
10782
10783
10784
10785
10786
10787
10788
10789
10790
10791
10792
10793
10794
10795
10796
10797
10798
10799
10800
10801
10802
10803
10804
10805
10806
10807
10808
10809
10810
10811
10812
10813
10814
10815
10816
10817
10818
10819
10820
10821
10822
10823
10824
10825
10826
10827
10828
10829
10830
10831
10832
10833
10834
10835
10836
10837
10838
10839
10840
10841
10842
10843
10844
10845
10846
10847
10848
10849
10850
10851
10852
10853
10854
10855
10856
10857
10858
10859
10860
10861
10862
10863
10864
10865
10866
10867
10868
10869
10870
10871
10872
10873
10874
10875
10876
10877
10878
10879
10880
10881
10882
10883
10884
10885
10886
10887
10888
10889
10890
10891
10892
10893
10894
10895
10896
10897
10898
10899
10900
10901
10902
10903
10904
10905
10906
10907
10908
10909
10910
10911
10912
10913
10914
10915
10916
10917
10918
10919
10920
10921
10922
10923
10924
10925
10926
10927
10928
10929
10930
10931
10932
10933
10934
10935
10936
10937
10938
10939
10940
10941
10942
10943
10944
10945
10946
10947
10948
10949
10950
10951
10952
10953
10954
10955
10956
10957
10958
10959
10960
10961
10962
10963
10964
10965
10966
10967
10968
10969
10970
10971
10972
10973
10974
10975
10976
10977
10978
10979
10980
10981
10982
10983
10984
10985
10986
10987
10988
10989
10990
10991
10992
10993
10994
10995
10996
10997
10998
10999
11000
11001
11002
11003
11004
11005
11006
11007
11008
11009
11010
11011
11012
11013
11014
11015
11016
11017
11018
11019
11020
11021
11022
11023
11024
11025
11026
11027
11028
11029
11030
11031
11032
11033
11034
11035
11036
11037
11038
11039
11040
11041
11042
11043
11044
11045
11046
11047
11048
11049
11050
11051
11052
11053
11054
11055
11056
11057
11058
11059
11060
11061
11062
11063
11064
11065
11066
11067
11068
11069
11070
11071
11072
11073
11074
11075
11076
11077
11078
11079
11080
11081
11082
11083
11084
11085
11086
11087
11088
11089
11090
11091
11092
11093
11094
11095
11096
11097
11098
11099
11100
11101
11102
11103
11104
11105
11106
11107
11108
11109
11110
11111
11112
11113
11114
11115
11116
11117
11118
11119
11120
11121
11122
11123
11124
11125
11126
11127
11128
11129
11130
11131
11132
11133
11134
11135
11136
11137
11138
11139
11140
11141
11142
11143
11144
11145
11146
11147
11148
11149
11150
11151
11152
11153
11154
11155
11156
11157
11158
11159
11160
11161
11162
11163
11164
11165
11166
11167
11168
11169
11170
11171
11172
11173
11174
11175
11176
11177
11178
11179
11180
11181
11182
11183
11184
11185
11186
11187
11188
11189
11190
11191
11192
11193
11194
11195
11196
11197
11198
11199
11200
11201
11202
11203
11204
11205
11206
11207
11208
11209
11210
11211
11212
11213
11214
11215
11216
11217
11218
11219
11220
11221
11222
11223
11224
11225
11226
11227
11228
11229
11230
11231
11232
11233
11234
11235
11236
11237
11238
11239
11240
11241
11242
11243
11244
11245
11246
11247
11248
11249
11250
11251
11252
11253
11254
11255
11256
11257
11258
11259
11260
11261
11262
11263
11264
11265
11266
11267
11268
11269
11270
11271
11272
11273
11274
11275
11276
11277
11278
11279
11280
11281
11282
11283
11284
11285
11286
11287
11288
11289
11290
11291
11292
11293
11294
11295
11296
11297
11298
11299
11300
11301
11302
11303
11304
11305
11306
11307
11308
11309
11310
11311
11312
11313
11314
11315
11316
11317
11318
11319
11320
11321
11322
11323
11324
11325
11326
11327
11328
11329
11330
11331
11332
11333
11334
11335
11336
11337
11338
11339
11340
11341
11342
11343
11344
11345
11346
11347
11348
11349
11350
11351
11352
11353
11354
11355
11356
11357
11358
11359
11360
11361
11362
11363
11364
11365
11366
11367
11368
11369
11370
11371
11372
11373
11374
11375
11376
11377
11378
11379
11380
11381
11382
11383
11384
11385
11386
11387
11388
11389
11390
11391
11392
11393
11394
11395
11396
11397
11398
11399
11400
11401
11402
11403
11404
11405
11406
11407
11408
11409
11410
11411
11412
11413
11414
11415
11416
11417
11418
11419
11420
11421
11422
11423
11424
11425
11426
11427
11428
11429
11430
11431
11432
11433
11434
11435
11436
11437
11438
11439
11440
11441
11442
11443
11444
11445
11446
11447
11448
11449
11450
11451
11452
11453
11454
11455
11456
11457
11458
11459
11460
11461
11462
11463
11464
11465
11466
11467
11468
11469
11470
11471
11472
11473
11474
11475
11476
11477
11478
11479
11480
11481
11482
11483
11484
11485
11486
11487
11488
11489
11490
11491
11492
11493
11494
11495
11496
11497
11498
11499
11500
11501
11502
11503
11504
11505
11506
11507
11508
11509
11510
11511
11512
11513
11514
11515
11516
11517
11518
11519
11520
11521
11522
11523
11524
11525
11526
11527
11528
11529
11530
11531
11532
11533
11534
11535
11536
11537
11538
11539
11540
11541
11542
11543
11544
11545
11546
11547
11548
11549
11550
11551
11552
11553
11554
11555
11556
11557
11558
11559
11560
11561
11562
11563
11564
11565
11566
11567
11568
11569
11570
11571
11572
11573
11574
11575
11576
11577
11578
11579
11580
11581
11582
11583
11584
11585
11586
11587
11588
11589
11590
11591
11592
11593
11594
11595
11596
11597
11598
11599
11600
11601
11602
11603
11604
11605
11606
11607
11608
11609
11610
11611
11612
11613
11614
11615
11616
11617
11618
11619
11620
11621
11622
11623
11624
11625
11626
11627
11628
11629
11630
11631
11632
11633
11634
11635
11636
11637
11638
11639
11640
11641
11642
11643
11644
11645
11646
11647
11648
11649
11650
11651
11652
11653
11654
11655
11656
11657
11658
11659
11660
11661
11662
11663
11664
11665
11666
11667
11668
11669
11670
11671
11672
11673
11674
11675
11676
11677
11678
11679
11680
11681
11682
11683
11684
11685
11686
11687
11688
11689
11690
11691
11692
11693
11694
11695
11696
11697
11698
11699
11700
11701
11702
11703
11704
11705
11706
11707
11708
11709
11710
11711
11712
11713
11714
11715
11716
11717
11718
11719
11720
11721
11722
11723
11724
11725
11726
11727
11728
11729
11730
11731
11732
11733
11734
11735
11736
11737
11738
11739
11740
11741
11742
11743
11744
11745
11746
11747
11748
11749
11750
11751
11752
11753
11754
11755
11756
11757
11758
11759
11760
11761
11762
11763
11764
11765
11766
11767
11768
11769
11770
11771
11772
11773
11774
11775
11776
11777
11778
11779
11780
11781
11782
11783
11784
11785
11786
11787
11788
11789
11790
11791
11792
11793
11794
11795
11796
11797
11798
11799
11800
11801
11802
11803
11804
11805
11806
11807
11808
11809
11810
11811
11812
11813
11814
11815
11816
11817
11818
11819
11820
11821
11822
11823
11824
11825
11826
11827
11828
11829
11830
11831
11832
11833
11834
11835
11836
11837
11838
11839
11840
11841
11842
11843
11844
11845
11846
11847
11848
11849
11850
11851
11852
11853
11854
11855
11856
11857
11858
11859
11860
11861
11862
11863
11864
11865
11866
11867
11868
11869
11870
11871
11872
11873
11874
11875
11876
11877
11878
11879
11880
11881
11882
11883
11884
11885
11886
11887
11888
11889
11890
11891
11892
11893
11894
11895
11896
11897
11898
11899
11900
11901
11902
11903
11904
11905
11906
11907
11908
11909
11910
11911
11912
11913
11914
11915
11916
11917
11918
11919
11920
11921
11922
11923
11924
11925
11926
11927
11928
11929
11930
11931
11932
11933
11934
11935
11936
11937
11938
11939
11940
11941
11942
11943
11944
11945
11946
11947
11948
11949
11950
11951
11952
11953
11954
11955
11956
11957
11958
11959
11960
11961
11962
11963
11964
11965
11966
11967
11968
11969
11970
11971
11972
11973
11974
11975
11976
11977
11978
11979
11980
11981
11982
11983
11984
11985
11986
11987
11988
11989
11990
11991
11992
11993
11994
11995
11996
11997
11998
11999
12000
12001
12002
12003
12004
12005
12006
12007
12008
12009
12010
12011
12012
12013
12014
12015
12016
12017
12018
12019
12020
12021
12022
12023
12024
12025
12026
12027
12028
12029
12030
12031
12032
12033
12034
12035
12036
12037
12038
12039
12040
12041
12042
12043
12044
12045
12046
12047
12048
12049
12050
12051
12052
12053
12054
12055
12056
12057
12058
12059
12060
12061
12062
12063
12064
12065
12066
12067
12068
12069
12070
12071
12072
12073
12074
12075
12076
12077
12078
12079
12080
12081
12082
12083
12084
12085
12086
12087
12088
12089
12090
12091
12092
12093
12094
12095
12096
12097
12098
12099
12100
12101
12102
12103
12104
12105
12106
12107
12108
12109
12110
12111
12112
12113
12114
12115
12116
12117
12118
12119
12120
12121
12122
12123
12124
12125
12126
12127
12128
12129
12130
12131
12132
12133
12134
12135
12136
12137
12138
12139
12140
12141
12142
12143
12144
12145
12146
12147
12148
12149
12150
12151
12152
12153
12154
12155
12156
12157
12158
12159
12160
12161
12162
12163
12164
12165
12166
12167
12168
12169
12170
12171
12172
12173
12174
12175
12176
12177
12178
12179
12180
12181
12182
12183
12184
12185
12186
12187
12188
12189
12190
12191
12192
12193
12194
12195
12196
12197
12198
12199
12200
12201
12202
12203
12204
12205
12206
12207
12208
12209
12210
12211
12212
12213
12214
12215
12216
12217
12218
12219
12220
12221
12222
12223
12224
12225
12226
12227
12228
12229
12230
12231
12232
12233
12234
12235
12236
12237
12238
12239
12240
12241
12242
12243
12244
12245
12246
12247
12248
12249
12250
12251
12252
12253
12254
12255
12256
12257
12258
12259
12260
12261
12262
12263
12264
12265
12266
12267
12268
12269
12270
12271
12272
12273
12274
12275
12276
12277
12278
12279
12280
12281
12282
12283
12284
12285
12286
12287
12288
12289
12290
12291
12292
12293
12294
12295
12296
12297
12298
12299
12300
12301
12302
12303
12304
12305
12306
12307
12308
12309
12310
12311
12312
12313
12314
12315
12316
12317
12318
12319
12320
12321
12322
12323
12324
12325
12326
12327
12328
12329
12330
12331
12332
12333
12334
12335
12336
12337
12338
12339
12340
12341
12342
12343
12344
12345
12346
12347
12348
12349
12350
12351
12352
12353
12354
12355
12356
12357
12358
12359
12360
12361
12362
12363
12364
12365
12366
12367
12368
12369
12370
12371
12372
12373
12374
12375
12376
12377
12378
12379
12380
12381
12382
12383
12384
12385
12386
12387
12388
12389
12390
12391
12392
12393
12394
12395
12396
12397
12398
12399
12400
12401
12402
12403
12404
12405
12406
12407
12408
12409
12410
12411
12412
12413
12414
12415
12416
12417
12418
12419
12420
12421
12422
12423
12424
12425
12426
12427
12428
12429
12430
12431
12432
12433
12434
12435
12436
12437
12438
12439
12440
12441
12442
12443
12444
12445
12446
12447
12448
12449
12450
12451
12452
12453
12454
12455
12456
12457
12458
12459
12460
12461
12462
12463
12464
12465
12466
12467
12468
12469
12470
12471
12472
12473
12474
12475
12476
12477
12478
12479
12480
12481
12482
12483
12484
12485
12486
12487
12488
12489
12490
12491
12492
12493
12494
12495
12496
12497
12498
12499
12500
12501
12502
12503
12504
12505
12506
12507
12508
12509
12510
12511
12512
12513
12514
12515
12516
12517
12518
12519
12520
12521
12522
12523
12524
12525
12526
12527
12528
12529
12530
12531
12532
12533
12534
12535
12536
12537
12538
12539
12540
12541
12542
12543
12544
12545
12546
12547
12548
12549
12550
12551
12552
12553
12554
12555
12556
12557
12558
12559
12560
12561
12562
12563
12564
12565
12566
12567
12568
12569
12570
12571
12572
12573
12574
12575
12576
12577
12578
12579
12580
12581
12582
12583
12584
12585
12586
12587
12588
12589
12590
12591
12592
12593
12594
12595
12596
12597
12598
12599
12600
12601
12602
12603
12604
12605
12606
12607
12608
12609
12610
12611
12612
12613
12614
12615
12616
12617
12618
12619
12620
12621
12622
12623
12624
12625
12626
12627
12628
12629
12630
12631
12632
12633
12634
12635
12636
12637
12638
12639
12640
12641
12642
12643
12644
12645
12646
12647
12648
12649
12650
12651
12652
12653
12654
12655
12656
12657
12658
12659
12660
12661
12662
12663
12664
12665
12666
12667
12668
12669
12670
12671
12672
12673
12674
12675
12676
12677
12678
12679
12680
12681
12682
12683
12684
12685
12686
12687
12688
12689
12690
12691
12692
12693
12694
12695
12696
12697
12698
12699
12700
12701
12702
12703
12704
12705
12706
12707
12708
12709
12710
12711
12712
12713
12714
12715
12716
12717
12718
12719
12720
12721
12722
12723
12724
12725
12726
12727
12728
12729
12730
12731
12732
12733
12734
12735
12736
12737
12738
12739
12740
12741
12742
12743
12744
12745
12746
12747
12748
12749
12750
12751
12752
12753
12754
12755
12756
12757
12758
12759
12760
12761
12762
12763
12764
12765
12766
12767
12768
12769
12770
12771
12772
12773
12774
12775
12776
12777
12778
12779
12780
12781
12782
12783
12784
12785
12786
12787
12788
12789
12790
12791
12792
12793
12794
12795
12796
12797
12798
12799
12800
12801
12802
12803
12804
12805
12806
12807
12808
12809
12810
12811
12812
12813
12814
12815
12816
12817
12818
12819
12820
12821
12822
12823
12824
12825
12826
12827
12828
12829
12830
12831
12832
12833
12834
12835
12836
12837
12838
12839
12840
12841
12842
12843
12844
12845
12846
12847
12848
12849
12850
12851
12852
12853
12854
12855
12856
12857
12858
12859
12860
12861
12862
12863
12864
12865
12866
12867
12868
12869
12870
12871
12872
12873
12874
12875
12876
12877
12878
12879
12880
12881
12882
12883
12884
12885
12886
12887
12888
12889
12890
12891
12892
12893
12894
12895
12896
12897
12898
12899
12900
12901
12902
12903
12904
12905
12906
12907
12908
12909
12910
12911
12912
12913
12914
12915
12916
12917
12918
12919
12920
12921
12922
12923
12924
12925
12926
12927
12928
12929
12930
12931
12932
12933
12934
12935
12936
12937
12938
12939
12940
12941
12942
12943
12944
12945
12946
12947
12948
12949
12950
12951
12952
12953
12954
12955
12956
12957
12958
12959
12960
12961
12962
12963
12964
12965
12966
12967
12968
12969
12970
12971
12972
12973
12974
12975
12976
12977
12978
12979
12980
12981
12982
12983
12984
12985
12986
12987
12988
12989
12990
12991
12992
12993
12994
12995
12996
12997
12998
12999
13000
13001
13002
13003
13004
13005
13006
13007
13008
13009
13010
13011
13012
13013
13014
13015
13016
13017
13018
13019
13020
13021
13022
13023
13024
13025
13026
13027
13028
13029
13030
13031
13032
13033
13034
13035
13036
13037
13038
13039
13040
13041
13042
13043
13044
13045
13046
13047
13048
13049
13050
13051
13052
13053
13054
13055
13056
13057
13058
13059
13060
13061
13062
13063
13064
13065
13066
13067
13068
13069
13070
13071
13072
13073
13074
13075
13076
13077
13078
13079
13080
13081
13082
13083
13084
13085
13086
13087
13088
13089
13090
13091
13092
13093
13094
13095
13096
13097
13098
13099
13100
13101
13102
13103
13104
13105
13106
13107
13108
13109
13110
13111
13112
13113
13114
13115
13116
13117
13118
13119
13120
13121
13122
13123
13124
13125
13126
13127
13128
13129
13130
13131
13132
13133
13134
13135
13136
13137
13138
13139
13140
13141
13142
13143
13144
13145
13146
13147
13148
13149
13150
13151
13152
13153
13154
13155
13156
13157
13158
13159
13160
13161
13162
13163
13164
13165
13166
13167
13168
13169
13170
13171
13172
13173
13174
13175
13176
13177
13178
13179
13180
13181
13182
13183
13184
13185
13186
13187
13188
13189
13190
13191
13192
13193
13194
13195
13196
13197
13198
13199
13200
13201
13202
13203
13204
13205
13206
13207
13208
13209
13210
13211
13212
13213
13214
13215
13216
13217
13218
13219
13220
13221
13222
13223
13224
13225
13226
13227
13228
13229
13230
13231
13232
13233
13234
13235
13236
13237
13238
13239
13240
13241
13242
13243
13244
13245
13246
13247
13248
13249
13250
13251
13252
13253
13254
13255
13256
13257
13258
13259
13260
13261
13262
13263
13264
13265
13266
13267
13268
13269
13270
13271
13272
13273
13274
13275
13276
13277
13278
13279
13280
13281
13282
13283
13284
13285
13286
13287
13288
13289
13290
13291
13292
13293
13294
13295
13296
13297
13298
13299
13300
13301
13302
13303
13304
13305
13306
13307
13308
13309
13310
13311
13312
13313
13314
13315
13316
13317
13318
13319
13320
13321
13322
13323
13324
13325
13326
13327
13328
13329
13330
13331
13332
13333
13334
13335
13336
13337
13338
13339
13340
13341
13342
13343
13344
13345
13346
13347
13348
13349
13350
13351
13352
13353
13354
13355
13356
13357
13358
13359
13360
13361
13362
13363
13364
13365
13366
13367
13368
13369
13370
13371
13372
13373
13374
13375
13376
13377
13378
13379
13380
13381
13382
13383
13384
13385
13386
13387
13388
13389
13390
13391
13392
13393
13394
13395
13396
13397
13398
13399
13400
13401
13402
13403
13404
13405
13406
13407
13408
13409
13410
13411
13412
13413
13414
13415
13416
13417
13418
13419
13420
13421
13422
13423
13424
13425
13426
13427
13428
13429
13430
13431
13432
13433
13434
13435
13436
13437
13438
13439
13440
13441
13442
13443
13444
13445
13446
13447
13448
13449
13450
13451
13452
13453
13454
13455
13456
13457
13458
13459
13460
13461
13462
13463
13464
13465
13466
13467
13468
13469
13470
13471
13472
13473
13474
13475
13476
13477
13478
13479
13480
13481
13482
13483
13484
13485
13486
13487
13488
13489
13490
13491
13492
13493
13494
13495
13496
13497
13498
13499
13500
13501
13502
13503
13504
13505
13506
13507
13508
13509
13510
13511
13512
13513
13514
13515
13516
13517
13518
13519
13520
13521
13522
13523
13524
13525
13526
13527
13528
13529
13530
13531
13532
13533
13534
13535
13536
13537
13538
13539
13540
13541
13542
13543
13544
13545
13546
13547
13548
13549
13550
13551
13552
13553
13554
13555
13556
13557
13558
13559
13560
13561
13562
13563
13564
13565
13566
13567
13568
13569
13570
13571
13572
13573
13574
13575
13576
13577
13578
13579
13580
13581
13582
13583
13584
13585
13586
13587
13588
13589
13590
13591
13592
13593
13594
13595
13596
13597
13598
13599
13600
13601
13602
13603
13604
13605
13606
13607
13608
13609
13610
13611
13612
13613
13614
13615
13616
13617
13618
13619
13620
13621
13622
13623
13624
13625
13626
13627
13628
13629
13630
13631
13632
13633
13634
13635
13636
13637
13638
13639
13640
13641
13642
13643
13644
13645
13646
13647
13648
13649
13650
13651
13652
13653
13654
13655
13656
13657
13658
13659
13660
13661
13662
13663
13664
13665
13666
13667
13668
13669
13670
13671
13672
13673
13674
13675
13676
13677
13678
13679
13680
13681
13682
13683
13684
13685
13686
13687
13688
13689
13690
13691
13692
13693
13694
13695
13696
13697
13698
13699
13700
13701
13702
13703
13704
13705
13706
13707
13708
13709
13710
13711
13712
13713
13714
13715
13716
13717
13718
13719
13720
13721
13722
13723
13724
13725
13726
13727
13728
13729
13730
13731
13732
13733
13734
13735
13736
13737
13738
13739
13740
13741
13742
13743
13744
13745
13746
13747
13748
13749
13750
13751
13752
13753
13754
13755
13756
13757
13758
13759
13760
13761
13762
13763
13764
13765
13766
13767
13768
13769
13770
13771
13772
13773
13774
13775
13776
13777
13778
13779
13780
13781
13782
13783
13784
13785
13786
13787
13788
13789
13790
13791
13792
13793
13794
13795
13796
13797
13798
13799
13800
13801
13802
13803
13804
13805
13806
13807
13808
13809
13810
13811
13812
13813
13814
13815
13816
13817
13818
13819
13820
13821
13822
13823
13824
13825
13826
13827
13828
13829
13830
13831
13832
13833
13834
13835
13836
13837
13838
13839
13840
13841
13842
13843
13844
13845
13846
13847
13848
13849
13850
13851
13852
13853
13854
13855
13856
13857
13858
13859
13860
13861
13862
13863
13864
13865
13866
13867
13868
13869
13870
13871
13872
13873
13874
13875
13876
13877
13878
13879
13880
13881
13882
13883
13884
13885
13886
13887
13888
13889
13890
13891
13892
13893
13894
13895
13896
13897
13898
13899
13900
13901
13902
13903
13904
13905
13906
13907
13908
13909
13910
13911
13912
13913
13914
13915
13916
13917
13918
13919
13920
13921
13922
13923
13924
13925
13926
13927
13928
13929
13930
13931
13932
13933
13934
13935
13936
13937
13938
13939
13940
13941
13942
13943
13944
13945
13946
13947
13948
13949
13950
13951
13952
13953
13954
13955
13956
13957
13958
13959
13960
13961
13962
13963
13964
13965
13966
13967
13968
13969
13970
13971
13972
13973
13974
13975
13976
13977
13978
13979
13980
13981
13982
13983
13984
13985
13986
13987
13988
13989
13990
13991
13992
13993
13994
13995
13996
13997
13998
13999
14000
14001
14002
14003
14004
14005
14006
14007
14008
14009
14010
14011
14012
14013
14014
14015
14016
14017
14018
14019
14020
14021
14022
14023
14024
14025
14026
14027
14028
14029
14030
14031
14032
14033
14034
14035
14036
14037
14038
14039
14040
14041
14042
14043
14044
14045
14046
14047
14048
14049
14050
14051
14052
14053
14054
14055
14056
14057
14058
14059
14060
14061
14062
14063
14064
14065
14066
14067
14068
14069
14070
14071
14072
14073
14074
14075
14076
14077
14078
14079
14080
14081
14082
14083
14084
14085
14086
14087
14088
14089
14090
14091
14092
14093
14094
14095
14096
14097
14098
14099
14100
14101
14102
14103
14104
14105
14106
14107
14108
14109
14110
14111
14112
14113
14114
14115
14116
14117
14118
14119
14120
14121
14122
14123
14124
14125
14126
14127
14128
14129
14130
14131
14132
14133
14134
14135
14136
14137
14138
14139
14140
14141
14142
14143
14144
14145
14146
14147
14148
14149
14150
14151
14152
14153
14154
14155
14156
14157
14158
14159
14160
14161
14162
14163
14164
14165
14166
14167
14168
14169
14170
14171
14172
14173
14174
14175
14176
14177
14178
14179
14180
14181
14182
14183
14184
14185
14186
14187
14188
14189
14190
14191
14192
14193
14194
14195
14196
14197
14198
14199
14200
14201
14202
14203
14204
14205
14206
14207
14208
14209
14210
14211
14212
14213
14214
14215
14216
14217
14218
14219
14220
14221
14222
14223
14224
14225
14226
14227
14228
14229
14230
14231
14232
14233
14234
14235
14236
14237
14238
14239
14240
14241
14242
14243
14244
14245
14246
14247
14248
14249
14250
14251
14252
14253
14254
14255
14256
14257
14258
14259
14260
14261
14262
14263
14264
14265
14266
14267
14268
14269
14270
14271
14272
14273
14274
14275
14276
14277
14278
14279
14280
14281
14282
14283
14284
14285
14286
14287
14288
14289
14290
14291
14292
14293
14294
14295
14296
14297
14298
14299
14300
14301
14302
14303
14304
14305
14306
14307
14308
14309
14310
14311
14312
14313
14314
14315
14316
14317
14318
14319
14320
14321
14322
14323
14324
14325
14326
14327
14328
14329
14330
14331
14332
14333
14334
14335
14336
14337
14338
14339
14340
14341
14342
14343
14344
14345
14346
14347
14348
14349
14350
14351
14352
14353
14354
14355
14356
14357
14358
14359
14360
14361
14362
14363
14364
14365
14366
14367
14368
14369
14370
14371
14372
14373
14374
14375
14376
14377
14378
14379
14380
14381
14382
14383
14384
14385
14386
14387
14388
14389
14390
14391
14392
14393
14394
14395
14396
14397
14398
14399
14400
14401
14402
14403
14404
14405
14406
14407
14408
14409
14410
14411
14412
14413
14414
14415
14416
14417
14418
14419
14420
14421
14422
14423
14424
14425
14426
14427
14428
14429
14430
14431
14432
14433
14434
14435
14436
14437
14438
14439
14440
14441
14442
14443
14444
14445
14446
14447
14448
14449
14450
14451
14452
14453
14454
14455
14456
14457
14458
14459
14460
14461
14462
14463
14464
14465
14466
14467
14468
14469
14470
14471
14472
14473
14474
14475
14476
14477
14478
14479
14480
14481
14482
14483
14484
14485
14486
14487
14488
14489
14490
14491
14492
14493
14494
14495
14496
14497
14498
14499
14500
14501
14502
14503
14504
14505
14506
14507
14508
14509
14510
14511
14512
14513
14514
14515
14516
14517
14518
14519
14520
14521
14522
14523
14524
14525
14526
14527
14528
14529
14530
14531
14532
14533
14534
14535
14536
14537
14538
14539
14540
14541
14542
14543
14544
14545
14546
14547
14548
14549
14550
14551
14552
14553
14554
14555
14556
14557
14558
14559
14560
14561
14562
14563
14564
14565
14566
14567
14568
14569
14570
14571
14572
14573
14574
14575
14576
14577
14578
14579
14580
14581
14582
14583
14584
14585
14586
14587
14588
14589
14590
14591
14592
14593
14594
14595
14596
14597
14598
14599
14600
14601
14602
14603
14604
14605
14606
14607
14608
14609
14610
14611
14612
14613
14614
14615
14616
14617
14618
14619
14620
14621
14622
14623
14624
14625
14626
14627
14628
14629
14630
14631
14632
14633
14634
14635
14636
14637
14638
14639
14640
14641
14642
14643
14644
14645
14646
14647
14648
14649
14650
14651
14652
14653
14654
14655
14656
14657
14658
14659
14660
14661
14662
14663
14664
14665
14666
14667
14668
14669
14670
14671
14672
14673
14674
14675
14676
14677
14678
14679
14680
14681
14682
14683
14684
14685
14686
14687
14688
14689
14690
14691
14692
14693
14694
14695
14696
14697
14698
14699
14700
14701
14702
14703
14704
14705
14706
14707
14708
14709
14710
14711
14712
14713
14714
14715
14716
14717
14718
14719
14720
14721
14722
14723
14724
14725
14726
14727
14728
14729
14730
14731
14732
14733
14734
14735
14736
14737
14738
14739
14740
14741
14742
14743
14744
14745
14746
14747
14748
14749
14750
14751
14752
14753
14754
14755
14756
14757
14758
14759
14760
14761
14762
14763
14764
14765
14766
14767
14768
14769
14770
14771
14772
14773
14774
14775
14776
14777
14778
14779
14780
14781
14782
14783
14784
14785
14786
14787
14788
14789
14790
14791
14792
14793
14794
14795
14796
14797
14798
14799
14800
14801
14802
14803
14804
14805
14806
14807
14808
14809
14810
14811
14812
14813
14814
14815
14816
14817
14818
14819
14820
14821
14822
14823
14824
14825
14826
14827
14828
14829
14830
14831
14832
14833
14834
14835
14836
14837
14838
14839
14840
14841
14842
14843
14844
14845
14846
14847
14848
14849
14850
14851
14852
14853
14854
14855
14856
14857
14858
14859
14860
14861
14862
14863
14864
14865
14866
14867
14868
14869
14870
14871
14872
14873
14874
14875
14876
14877
14878
14879
14880
14881
14882
14883
14884
14885
14886
14887
14888
14889
14890
14891
14892
14893
14894
14895
14896
14897
14898
14899
14900
14901
14902
14903
14904
14905
14906
14907
14908
14909
14910
14911
14912
14913
14914
14915
14916
14917
14918
14919
14920
14921
14922
14923
14924
14925
14926
14927
14928
14929
14930
14931
14932
14933
14934
14935
14936
14937
14938
14939
14940
14941
14942
14943
14944
14945
14946
14947
14948
14949
14950
14951
14952
14953
14954
14955
14956
14957
14958
14959
14960
14961
14962
14963
14964
14965
14966
14967
14968
14969
14970
14971
14972
14973
14974
14975
14976
14977
14978
14979
14980
14981
14982
14983
14984
14985
14986
14987
14988
14989
14990
14991
14992
14993
14994
14995
14996
14997
14998
14999
15000
15001
15002
15003
15004
15005
15006
15007
15008
15009
15010
15011
15012
15013
15014
15015
15016
15017
15018
15019
15020
15021
15022
15023
15024
15025
15026
15027
15028
15029
15030
15031
15032
15033
15034
15035
15036
15037
15038
15039
15040
15041
15042
15043
15044
15045
15046
15047
15048
15049
15050
15051
15052
15053
15054
15055
15056
15057
15058
15059
15060
15061
15062
15063
15064
15065
15066
15067
15068
15069
15070
15071
15072
15073
15074
15075
15076
15077
15078
15079
15080
15081
15082
15083
15084
15085
15086
15087
15088
15089
15090
15091
15092
15093
15094
15095
15096
15097
15098
15099
15100
15101
15102
15103
15104
15105
15106
15107
15108
15109
15110
15111
15112
15113
15114
15115
15116
15117
15118
15119
15120
15121
15122
15123
15124
15125
15126
15127
15128
15129
15130
15131
15132
15133
15134
15135
15136
15137
15138
15139
15140
15141
15142
15143
15144
15145
15146
15147
15148
15149
15150
15151
15152
15153
15154
15155
15156
15157
15158
15159
15160
15161
15162
15163
15164
15165
15166
15167
15168
15169
15170
15171
15172
15173
15174
15175
15176
15177
15178
15179
15180
15181
15182
15183
15184
15185
15186
15187
15188
15189
15190
15191
15192
15193
15194
15195
15196
15197
15198
15199
15200
15201
15202
15203
15204
15205
15206
15207
15208
15209
15210
15211
15212
15213
15214
15215
15216
15217
15218
15219
15220
15221
15222
15223
15224
15225
15226
15227
15228
15229
15230
15231
15232
15233
15234
15235
15236
15237
15238
15239
15240
15241
15242
15243
15244
15245
15246
15247
15248
15249
15250
15251
15252
15253
15254
15255
15256
15257
15258
15259
15260
15261
15262
15263
15264
15265
15266
15267
15268
15269
15270
15271
15272
15273
15274
15275
15276
15277
15278
15279
15280
15281
15282
15283
15284
15285
15286
15287
15288
15289
15290
15291
15292
15293
15294
15295
15296
15297
15298
15299
15300
15301
15302
15303
15304
15305
15306
15307
15308
15309
15310
15311
15312
15313
15314
15315
15316
15317
15318
15319
15320
15321
15322
15323
15324
15325
15326
15327
15328
15329
15330
15331
15332
15333
15334
15335
15336
15337
15338
15339
15340
15341
15342
15343
15344
15345
15346
15347
15348
15349
15350
15351
15352
15353
15354
15355
15356
15357
15358
15359
15360
15361
15362
15363
15364
15365
15366
15367
15368
15369
15370
15371
15372
15373
15374
15375
15376
15377
15378
15379
15380
15381
15382
15383
15384
15385
15386
15387
15388
15389
15390
15391
15392
15393
15394
15395
15396
15397
15398
15399
15400
15401
15402
15403
15404
15405
15406
15407
15408
15409
15410
15411
15412
15413
15414
15415
15416
15417
15418
15419
15420
15421
15422
15423
15424
15425
15426
15427
15428
15429
15430
15431
15432
15433
15434
15435
15436
15437
15438
15439
15440
15441
15442
15443
15444
15445
15446
15447
15448
15449
15450
15451
15452
15453
15454
15455
15456
15457
15458
15459
15460
15461
15462
15463
15464
15465
15466
15467
15468
15469
15470
15471
15472
15473
15474
15475
15476
15477
15478
15479
15480
15481
15482
15483
15484
15485
15486
15487
15488
15489
15490
15491
15492
15493
15494
15495
15496
15497
15498
15499
15500
15501
15502
15503
15504
15505
15506
15507
15508
15509
15510
15511
15512
15513
15514
15515
15516
15517
15518
15519
15520
15521
15522
15523
15524
15525
15526
15527
15528
15529
15530
15531
15532
15533
15534
15535
15536
15537
15538
15539
15540
15541
15542
15543
15544
15545
15546
15547
15548
15549
15550
15551
15552
15553
15554
15555
15556
15557
15558
15559
15560
15561
15562
15563
15564
15565
15566
15567
15568
15569
15570
15571
15572
15573
15574
15575
15576
15577
15578
15579
15580
15581
15582
15583
15584
15585
15586
15587
15588
15589
15590
15591
15592
15593
15594
15595
15596
15597
15598
15599
15600
15601
15602
15603
15604
15605
15606
15607
15608
15609
15610
15611
15612
15613
15614
15615
15616
15617
15618
15619
15620
15621
15622
15623
15624
15625
15626
15627
15628
15629
15630
15631
15632
15633
15634
15635
15636
15637
15638
15639
15640
15641
15642
15643
15644
15645
15646
15647
15648
15649
15650
15651
15652
15653
15654
15655
15656
15657
15658
15659
15660
15661
15662
15663
15664
15665
15666
15667
15668
15669
15670
15671
15672
15673
15674
15675
15676
15677
15678
15679
15680
15681
15682
15683
15684
15685
15686
15687
15688
15689
15690
15691
15692
15693
15694
15695
15696
15697
15698
15699
15700
15701
15702
15703
15704
15705
15706
15707
15708
15709
15710
15711
15712
15713
15714
15715
15716
15717
15718
15719
15720
15721
15722
15723
15724
15725
15726
15727
15728
15729
15730
15731
15732
15733
15734
15735
15736
15737
15738
15739
15740
15741
15742
15743
15744
15745
15746
15747
15748
15749
15750
15751
15752
15753
15754
15755
15756
15757
15758
15759
15760
15761
15762
15763
15764
15765
15766
15767
15768
15769
15770
15771
15772
15773
15774
15775
15776
15777
15778
15779
15780
15781
15782
15783
15784
15785
15786
15787
15788
15789
15790
15791
15792
15793
15794
15795
15796
15797
15798
15799
15800
15801
15802
15803
15804
15805
15806
15807
15808
15809
15810
15811
15812
15813
15814
15815
15816
15817
15818
15819
15820
15821
15822
15823
15824
15825
15826
15827
15828
15829
15830
15831
15832
15833
15834
15835
15836
15837
15838
15839
15840
15841
15842
15843
15844
15845
15846
15847
15848
15849
15850
15851
15852
15853
15854
15855
15856
15857
15858
15859
15860
15861
15862
15863
15864
15865
15866
15867
15868
15869
15870
15871
15872
15873
15874
15875
15876
15877
15878
15879
15880
15881
15882
15883
15884
15885
15886
15887
15888
15889
15890
15891
15892
15893
15894
15895
15896
15897
15898
15899
15900
15901
15902
15903
15904
15905
15906
15907
15908
15909
15910
15911
15912
15913
15914
15915
15916
15917
15918
15919
15920
15921
15922
15923
15924
15925
15926
15927
15928
15929
15930
15931
15932
15933
15934
15935
15936
15937
15938
15939
15940
15941
15942
15943
15944
15945
15946
15947
15948
15949
15950
15951
15952
15953
15954
15955
15956
15957
15958
15959
15960
15961
15962
15963
15964
15965
15966
15967
15968
15969
15970
15971
15972
15973
15974
15975
15976
15977
15978
15979
15980
15981
15982
15983
15984
15985
15986
15987
15988
15989
15990
15991
15992
15993
15994
15995
15996
15997
15998
15999
16000
16001
16002
16003
16004
16005
16006
16007
16008
16009
16010
16011
16012
16013
16014
16015
16016
16017
16018
16019
16020
16021
16022
16023
16024
16025
16026
16027
16028
16029
16030
16031
16032
16033
16034
16035
16036
16037
16038
16039
16040
16041
16042
16043
16044
16045
16046
16047
16048
16049
16050
16051
16052
16053
16054
16055
16056
16057
16058
16059
16060
16061
16062
16063
16064
16065
16066
16067
16068
16069
16070
16071
16072
16073
16074
16075
16076
16077
16078
16079
16080
16081
16082
16083
16084
16085
16086
16087
16088
16089
16090
16091
16092
16093
16094
16095
16096
16097
16098
16099
16100
16101
16102
16103
16104
16105
16106
16107
16108
16109
16110
16111
16112
16113
16114
16115
16116
16117
16118
16119
16120
16121
16122
16123
16124
16125
16126
16127
16128
16129
16130
16131
16132
16133
16134
16135
16136
16137
16138
16139
16140
16141
16142
16143
16144
16145
16146
16147
16148
16149
16150
16151
16152
16153
16154
16155
16156
16157
16158
16159
16160
16161
16162
16163
16164
16165
16166
16167
16168
16169
16170
16171
16172
16173
16174
16175
16176
16177
16178
16179
16180
16181
16182
16183
16184
16185
16186
16187
16188
16189
16190
16191
16192
16193
16194
16195
16196
16197
16198
16199
16200
16201
16202
16203
16204
16205
16206
16207
16208
16209
16210
16211
16212
16213
16214
16215
16216
16217
16218
16219
16220
16221
16222
16223
16224
16225
16226
16227
16228
16229
16230
16231
16232
16233
16234
16235
16236
16237
16238
16239
16240
16241
16242
16243
16244
16245
16246
16247
16248
16249
16250
16251
16252
16253
16254
16255
16256
16257
16258
16259
16260
16261
16262
16263
16264
16265
16266
16267
16268
16269
16270
16271
16272
16273
16274
16275
16276
16277
16278
16279
16280
16281
16282
16283
16284
16285
16286
16287
16288
16289
16290
16291
16292
16293
16294
16295
16296
16297
16298
16299
16300
16301
16302
16303
16304
16305
16306
16307
16308
16309
16310
16311
16312
16313
16314
16315
16316
16317
16318
16319
16320
16321
16322
16323
16324
16325
16326
16327
16328
16329
16330
16331
16332
16333
16334
16335
16336
16337
16338
16339
16340
16341
16342
16343
16344
16345
16346
16347
16348
16349
16350
16351
16352
16353
16354
16355
16356
16357
16358
16359
16360
16361
16362
16363
16364
16365
16366
16367
16368
16369
16370
16371
16372
16373
16374
16375
16376
16377
16378
16379
16380
16381
16382
16383
16384
16385
16386
16387
16388
16389
16390
16391
16392
16393
16394
16395
16396
16397
16398
16399
16400
16401
16402
16403
16404
16405
16406
16407
16408
16409
16410
16411
16412
16413
16414
16415
16416
16417
16418
16419
16420
16421
16422
16423
16424
16425
16426
16427
16428
16429
16430
16431
16432
16433
16434
16435
16436
16437
16438
16439
16440
16441
16442
16443
16444
16445
16446
16447
16448
16449
16450
16451
16452
16453
16454
16455
16456
16457
16458
16459
16460
16461
16462
16463
16464
16465
16466
16467
16468
16469
16470
16471
16472
16473
16474
16475
16476
16477
16478
16479
16480
16481
16482
16483
16484
16485
16486
16487
16488
16489
16490
16491
16492
16493
16494
16495
16496
16497
16498
16499
16500
16501
16502
16503
16504
16505
16506
16507
16508
16509
16510
16511
16512
16513
16514
16515
16516
16517
16518
16519
16520
16521
16522
16523
16524
16525
16526
16527
16528
16529
16530
16531
16532
16533
16534
16535
16536
16537
16538
16539
16540
16541
16542
16543
16544
16545
16546
16547
16548
16549
16550
16551
16552
16553
16554
16555
16556
16557
16558
16559
16560
16561
16562
16563
16564
16565
16566
16567
16568
16569
16570
16571
16572
16573
16574
16575
16576
16577
16578
16579
16580
16581
16582
16583
16584
16585
16586
16587
16588
16589
16590
16591
16592
16593
16594
16595
16596
16597
16598
16599
16600
16601
16602
16603
16604
16605
16606
16607
16608
16609
16610
16611
16612
16613
16614
16615
16616
16617
16618
16619
16620
16621
16622
16623
16624
16625
16626
16627
16628
16629
16630
16631
16632
16633
16634
16635
16636
16637
16638
16639
16640
16641
16642
16643
16644
16645
16646
16647
16648
16649
16650
16651
16652
16653
16654
16655
16656
16657
16658
16659
16660
16661
16662
16663
16664
16665
16666
16667
16668
16669
16670
16671
16672
16673
16674
16675
16676
16677
16678
16679
16680
16681
16682
16683
16684
16685
16686
16687
16688
16689
16690
16691
16692
16693
16694
16695
16696
16697
16698
16699
16700
16701
16702
16703
16704
16705
16706
16707
16708
16709
16710
16711
16712
16713
16714
16715
16716
16717
16718
16719
16720
16721
16722
16723
16724
16725
16726
16727
16728
16729
16730
16731
16732
16733
16734
16735
16736
16737
16738
16739
16740
16741
16742
16743
16744
16745
16746
16747
16748
16749
16750
16751
16752
16753
16754
16755
16756
16757
16758
16759
16760
16761
16762
16763
16764
16765
16766
16767
16768
16769
16770
16771
16772
16773
16774
16775
16776
16777
16778
16779
16780
16781
16782
16783
16784
16785
16786
16787
16788
16789
16790
16791
16792
16793
16794
16795
16796
16797
16798
16799
16800
16801
16802
16803
16804
16805
16806
16807
16808
16809
16810
16811
16812
16813
16814
16815
16816
16817
16818
16819
16820
16821
16822
16823
16824
16825
16826
16827
16828
16829
16830
16831
16832
16833
16834
16835
16836
16837
16838
16839
16840
16841
16842
16843
16844
16845
16846
16847
16848
16849
16850
16851
16852
16853
16854
16855
16856
16857
16858
16859
16860
16861
16862
16863
16864
16865
16866
16867
16868
16869
16870
16871
16872
16873
16874
16875
16876
16877
16878
16879
16880
16881
16882
16883
16884
16885
16886
16887
16888
16889
16890
16891
16892
16893
16894
16895
16896
16897
16898
16899
16900
16901
16902
16903
16904
16905
16906
16907
16908
16909
16910
16911
16912
16913
16914
16915
16916
16917
16918
16919
16920
16921
16922
16923
16924
16925
16926
16927
16928
16929
16930
16931
16932
16933
16934
16935
16936
16937
16938
16939
16940
16941
16942
16943
16944
16945
16946
16947
16948
16949
16950
16951
16952
16953
16954
16955
16956
16957
16958
16959
16960
16961
16962
16963
16964
16965
16966
16967
16968
16969
16970
16971
16972
16973
16974
16975
16976
16977
16978
16979
16980
16981
16982
16983
16984
16985
16986
16987
16988
16989
16990
16991
16992
16993
16994
16995
16996
16997
16998
16999
17000
17001
17002
17003
17004
17005
17006
17007
17008
17009
17010
17011
17012
17013
17014
17015
17016
17017
17018
17019
17020
17021
17022
17023
17024
17025
17026
17027
17028
17029
17030
17031
17032
17033
17034
17035
17036
17037
17038
17039
17040
17041
17042
17043
17044
17045
17046
17047
17048
17049
17050
17051
17052
17053
17054
17055
17056
17057
17058
17059
17060
17061
17062
17063
17064
17065
17066
17067
17068
17069
17070
17071
17072
17073
17074
17075
17076
17077
17078
17079
17080
17081
17082
17083
17084
17085
17086
17087
17088
17089
17090
17091
17092
17093
17094
17095
17096
17097
17098
17099
17100
17101
17102
17103
17104
17105
17106
17107
17108
17109
17110
17111
17112
17113
17114
17115
17116
17117
17118
17119
17120
17121
17122
17123
17124
17125
17126
17127
17128
17129
17130
17131
17132
17133
17134
17135
17136
17137
17138
17139
17140
17141
17142
17143
17144
17145
17146
17147
17148
17149
17150
17151
17152
17153
17154
17155
17156
17157
17158
17159
17160
17161
17162
17163
17164
17165
17166
17167
17168
17169
17170
17171
17172
17173
17174
17175
17176
17177
17178
17179
17180
17181
17182
17183
17184
17185
17186
17187
17188
17189
17190
17191
17192
17193
17194
17195
17196
17197
17198
17199
17200
17201
17202
17203
17204
17205
17206
17207
17208
17209
17210
17211
17212
17213
17214
17215
17216
17217
17218
17219
17220
17221
17222
17223
17224
17225
17226
17227
17228
17229
17230
17231
17232
17233
17234
17235
17236
17237
17238
17239
17240
17241
17242
17243
17244
17245
17246
17247
17248
17249
17250
17251
17252
17253
17254
17255
17256
17257
17258
17259
17260
17261
17262
17263
17264
17265
17266
17267
17268
17269
17270
17271
17272
17273
17274
17275
17276
17277
17278
17279
17280
17281
17282
17283
17284
17285
17286
17287
17288
17289
17290
17291
17292
17293
17294
17295
17296
17297
17298
17299
17300
17301
17302
17303
17304
17305
17306
17307
17308
17309
17310
17311
17312
17313
17314
17315
17316
17317
17318
17319
17320
17321
17322
17323
17324
17325
17326
17327
17328
17329
17330
17331
17332
17333
17334
17335
17336
17337
17338
17339
17340
17341
17342
17343
17344
17345
17346
17347
17348
17349
17350
17351
17352
17353
17354
17355
17356
17357
17358
17359
17360
17361
17362
17363
17364
17365
17366
17367
17368
17369
17370
17371
17372
17373
17374
17375
17376
17377
17378
17379
17380
17381
17382
17383
17384
17385
17386
17387
17388
17389
17390
17391
17392
17393
17394
17395
17396
17397
17398
17399
17400
17401
17402
17403
17404
17405
17406
17407
17408
17409
17410
17411
17412
17413
17414
17415
17416
17417
17418
17419
17420
17421
17422
17423
17424
17425
17426
17427
17428
17429
17430
17431
17432
17433
17434
17435
17436
17437
17438
17439
17440
17441
17442
17443
17444
17445
17446
17447
17448
17449
17450
17451
17452
17453
17454
17455
17456
17457
17458
17459
17460
17461
17462
17463
17464
17465
17466
17467
17468
17469
17470
17471
17472
17473
17474
17475
17476
17477
17478
17479
17480
17481
17482
17483
17484
17485
17486
17487
17488
17489
17490
17491
17492
17493
17494
17495
17496
17497
17498
17499
17500
17501
17502
17503
17504
17505
17506
17507
17508
17509
17510
17511
17512
17513
17514
17515
17516
17517
17518
17519
17520
17521
17522
17523
17524
17525
17526
17527
17528
17529
17530
17531
17532
17533
17534
17535
17536
17537
17538
17539
17540
17541
17542
17543
17544
17545
17546
17547
17548
17549
17550
17551
17552
17553
17554
17555
17556
17557
17558
17559
17560
17561
17562
17563
17564
17565
17566
17567
17568
17569
17570
17571
17572
17573
17574
17575
17576
17577
17578
17579
17580
17581
17582
17583
17584
17585
17586
17587
17588
17589
17590
17591
17592
17593
17594
17595
17596
17597
17598
17599
17600
17601
17602
17603
17604
17605
17606
17607
17608
17609
17610
17611
17612
17613
17614
17615
17616
17617
17618
17619
17620
17621
17622
17623
17624
17625
17626
17627
17628
17629
17630
17631
17632
17633
17634
17635
17636
17637
17638
17639
17640
17641
17642
17643
17644
17645
17646
17647
17648
17649
17650
17651
17652
17653
17654
17655
17656
17657
17658
17659
17660
17661
17662
17663
17664
17665
17666
17667
17668
17669
17670
17671
17672
17673
17674
17675
17676
17677
17678
17679
17680
17681
17682
17683
17684
17685
17686
17687
17688
17689
17690
17691
17692
17693
17694
17695
17696
17697
17698
17699
17700
17701
17702
17703
17704
17705
17706
17707
17708
17709
17710
17711
17712
17713
17714
17715
17716
17717
17718
17719
17720
17721
17722
17723
17724
17725
17726
17727
17728
17729
17730
17731
17732
17733
17734
17735
17736
17737
17738
17739
17740
17741
17742
17743
17744
17745
17746
17747
17748
17749
17750
17751
17752
17753
17754
17755
17756
17757
17758
17759
17760
17761
17762
17763
17764
17765
17766
17767
17768
17769
17770
17771
17772
17773
17774
17775
17776
17777
17778
17779
17780
17781
17782
17783
17784
17785
17786
17787
17788
17789
17790
17791
17792
17793
17794
17795
17796
17797
17798
17799
17800
17801
17802
17803
17804
17805
17806
17807
17808
17809
17810
17811
17812
17813
17814
17815
17816
17817
17818
17819
17820
17821
17822
17823
17824
17825
17826
17827
17828
17829
17830
17831
17832
17833
17834
17835
17836
17837
17838
17839
17840
17841
17842
17843
17844
17845
17846
17847
17848
17849
17850
17851
17852
17853
17854
17855
17856
17857
17858
17859
17860
17861
17862
17863
17864
17865
17866
17867
17868
17869
17870
17871
17872
17873
17874
17875
17876
17877
17878
17879
17880
17881
17882
17883
17884
17885
17886
17887
17888
17889
17890
17891
17892
17893
17894
17895
17896
17897
17898
17899
17900
17901
17902
17903
17904
17905
17906
17907
17908
17909
17910
17911
17912
17913
17914
17915
17916
17917
17918
17919
17920
17921
17922
17923
17924
17925
17926
17927
17928
17929
17930
17931
17932
17933
17934
17935
17936
17937
17938
17939
17940
17941
17942
17943
17944
17945
17946
17947
17948
17949
17950
17951
17952
17953
17954
17955
17956
17957
17958
17959
17960
17961
17962
17963
17964
17965
17966
17967
17968
17969
17970
17971
17972
17973
17974
17975
17976
17977
17978
17979
17980
17981
17982
17983
17984
17985
17986
17987
17988
17989
17990
17991
17992
17993
17994
17995
17996
17997
17998
17999
18000
18001
18002
18003
18004
18005
18006
18007
18008
18009
18010
18011
18012
18013
18014
18015
18016
18017
18018
18019
18020
18021
18022
18023
18024
18025
18026
18027
18028
18029
18030
18031
18032
18033
18034
18035
18036
18037
18038
18039
18040
18041
18042
18043
18044
18045
18046
18047
18048
18049
18050
18051
18052
18053
18054
18055
18056
18057
18058
18059
18060
18061
18062
18063
18064
18065
18066
18067
18068
18069
18070
18071
18072
18073
18074
18075
18076
18077
18078
18079
18080
18081
18082
18083
18084
18085
18086
18087
18088
18089
18090
18091
18092
18093
18094
18095
18096
18097
18098
18099
18100
18101
18102
18103
18104
18105
18106
18107
18108
18109
18110
18111
18112
18113
18114
18115
18116
18117
18118
18119
18120
18121
18122
18123
18124
18125
18126
18127
18128
18129
18130
18131
18132
18133
18134
18135
18136
18137
18138
18139
18140
18141
18142
18143
18144
18145
18146
18147
18148
18149
18150
18151
18152
18153
18154
18155
18156
18157
18158
18159
18160
18161
18162
18163
18164
18165
18166
18167
18168
18169
18170
18171
18172
18173
18174
18175
18176
18177
18178
18179
18180
18181
18182
18183
18184
18185
18186
18187
18188
18189
18190
18191
18192
18193
18194
18195
18196
18197
18198
18199
18200
18201
18202
18203
18204
18205
18206
18207
18208
18209
18210
18211
18212
18213
18214
18215
18216
18217
18218
18219
18220
18221
18222
18223
18224
18225
18226
18227
18228
18229
18230
18231
18232
18233
18234
18235
18236
18237
18238
18239
18240
18241
18242
18243
18244
18245
18246
18247
18248
18249
18250
18251
18252
18253
18254
18255
18256
18257
18258
18259
18260
18261
18262
18263
18264
18265
18266
18267
18268
18269
18270
18271
18272
18273
18274
18275
18276
18277
18278
18279
18280
18281
18282
18283
18284
18285
18286
18287
18288
18289
18290
18291
18292
18293
18294
18295
18296
18297
18298
18299
18300
18301
18302
18303
18304
18305
18306
18307
18308
18309
18310
18311
18312
18313
18314
18315
18316
18317
18318
18319
18320
18321
18322
18323
18324
18325
18326
18327
18328
18329
18330
18331
18332
18333
18334
18335
18336
18337
18338
18339
18340
18341
18342
18343
18344
18345
18346
18347
18348
18349
18350
18351
18352
18353
18354
18355
18356
18357
18358
18359
18360
18361
18362
18363
18364
18365
18366
18367
18368
18369
18370
18371
18372
18373
18374
18375
18376
18377
18378
18379
18380
18381
18382
18383
18384
18385
18386
18387
18388
18389
18390
18391
18392
18393
18394
18395
18396
18397
18398
18399
18400
18401
18402
18403
18404
18405
18406
18407
18408
18409
18410
18411
18412
18413
18414
18415
18416
18417
18418
18419
18420
18421
18422
18423
18424
18425
18426
18427
18428
18429
18430
18431
18432
18433
18434
18435
18436
18437
18438
18439
18440
18441
18442
18443
18444
18445
18446
18447
18448
18449
18450
18451
18452
18453
18454
18455
18456
18457
18458
18459
18460
18461
18462
18463
18464
18465
18466
18467
18468
18469
18470
18471
18472
18473
18474
18475
18476
18477
18478
18479
18480
18481
18482
18483
18484
18485
18486
18487
18488
18489
18490
18491
18492
18493
18494
18495
18496
18497
18498
18499
18500
18501
18502
18503
18504
18505
18506
18507
18508
18509
18510
18511
18512
18513
18514
18515
18516
18517
18518
18519
18520
18521
18522
18523
18524
18525
18526
18527
18528
18529
18530
18531
18532
18533
18534
18535
18536
18537
18538
18539
18540
18541
18542
18543
18544
18545
18546
18547
18548
18549
18550
18551
18552
18553
18554
18555
18556
18557
18558
18559
18560
18561
18562
18563
18564
18565
18566
18567
18568
18569
18570
18571
18572
18573
18574
18575
18576
18577
18578
18579
18580
18581
18582
18583
18584
18585
18586
18587
18588
18589
18590
18591
18592
18593
18594
18595
18596
18597
18598
18599
18600
18601
18602
18603
18604
18605
18606
18607
18608
18609
18610
18611
18612
18613
18614
18615
18616
18617
18618
18619
18620
18621
18622
18623
18624
18625
18626
18627
18628
18629
18630
18631
18632
18633
18634
18635
18636
18637
18638
18639
18640
18641
18642
18643
18644
18645
18646
18647
18648
18649
18650
18651
18652
18653
18654
18655
18656
18657
18658
18659
18660
18661
18662
18663
18664
18665
18666
18667
18668
18669
18670
18671
18672
18673
18674
18675
18676
18677
18678
18679
18680
18681
18682
18683
18684
18685
18686
18687
18688
18689
18690
18691
18692
18693
18694
18695
18696
18697
18698
18699
18700
18701
18702
18703
18704
18705
18706
18707
18708
18709
18710
18711
18712
18713
18714
18715
18716
18717
18718
18719
18720
18721
18722
18723
18724
18725
18726
18727
18728
18729
18730
18731
18732
18733
18734
18735
18736
18737
18738
18739
18740
18741
18742
18743
18744
18745
18746
18747
18748
18749
18750
18751
18752
18753
18754
18755
18756
18757
18758
18759
18760
18761
18762
18763
18764
18765
18766
18767
18768
18769
18770
18771
18772
18773
18774
18775
18776
18777
18778
18779
18780
18781
18782
18783
18784
18785
18786
18787
18788
18789
18790
18791
18792
18793
18794
18795
18796
18797
18798
18799
18800
18801
18802
18803
18804
18805
18806
18807
18808
18809
18810
18811
18812
18813
18814
18815
18816
18817
18818
18819
18820
18821
18822
18823
18824
18825
18826
18827
18828
18829
18830
18831
18832
18833
18834
18835
18836
18837
18838
18839
18840
18841
18842
18843
18844
18845
18846
18847
18848
18849
18850
18851
18852
18853
18854
18855
18856
18857
18858
18859
18860
18861
18862
18863
18864
18865
18866
18867
18868
18869
18870
18871
18872
18873
18874
18875
18876
18877
18878
18879
18880
18881
18882
18883
18884
18885
18886
18887
18888
18889
18890
18891
18892
18893
18894
18895
18896
18897
18898
18899
18900
18901
18902
18903
18904
18905
18906
18907
18908
18909
18910
18911
18912
18913
18914
18915
18916
18917
18918
18919
18920
18921
18922
18923
18924
18925
18926
18927
18928
18929
18930
18931
18932
18933
18934
18935
18936
18937
18938
18939
18940
18941
18942
18943
18944
18945
18946
18947
18948
18949
18950
18951
18952
18953
18954
18955
18956
18957
18958
18959
18960
18961
18962
18963
18964
18965
18966
18967
18968
18969
18970
18971
18972
18973
18974
18975
18976
18977
18978
18979
18980
18981
18982
18983
18984
18985
18986
18987
18988
18989
18990
18991
18992
18993
18994
18995
18996
18997
18998
18999
19000
19001
19002
19003
19004
19005
19006
19007
19008
19009
19010
19011
19012
19013
19014
19015
19016
19017
19018
19019
19020
19021
19022
19023
19024
19025
19026
19027
19028
19029
19030
19031
19032
19033
19034
19035
19036
19037
19038
19039
19040
19041
19042
19043
19044
19045
19046
19047
19048
19049
19050
19051
19052
19053
19054
19055
19056
19057
19058
19059
19060
19061
19062
19063
19064
19065
19066
19067
19068
19069
19070
19071
19072
19073
19074
19075
19076
19077
19078
19079
19080
19081
19082
19083
19084
19085
19086
19087
19088
19089
19090
19091
19092
19093
19094
19095
19096
19097
19098
19099
19100
19101
19102
19103
19104
19105
19106
19107
19108
19109
19110
19111
19112
19113
19114
19115
19116
19117
19118
19119
19120
19121
19122
19123
19124
19125
19126
19127
19128
19129
19130
19131
19132
19133
19134
19135
19136
19137
19138
19139
19140
19141
19142
19143
19144
19145
19146
19147
19148
19149
19150
19151
19152
19153
19154
19155
19156
19157
19158
19159
19160
19161
19162
19163
19164
19165
19166
19167
19168
19169
19170
19171
19172
19173
19174
19175
19176
19177
19178
19179
19180
19181
19182
19183
19184
19185
19186
19187
19188
19189
19190
19191
19192
19193
19194
19195
19196
19197
19198
19199
19200
19201
19202
19203
19204
19205
19206
19207
19208
19209
19210
19211
19212
19213
19214
19215
19216
19217
19218
19219
19220
19221
19222
19223
19224
19225
19226
19227
19228
19229
19230
19231
19232
19233
19234
19235
19236
19237
19238
19239
19240
19241
19242
19243
19244
19245
19246
19247
19248
19249
19250
19251
19252
19253
19254
19255
19256
19257
19258
19259
19260
19261
19262
19263
19264
19265
19266
19267
19268
19269
19270
19271
19272
19273
19274
19275
19276
19277
19278
19279
19280
19281
19282
19283
19284
19285
19286
19287
19288
19289
19290
19291
19292
19293
19294
19295
19296
19297
19298
19299
19300
19301
19302
19303
19304
19305
19306
19307
19308
19309
19310
19311
19312
19313
19314
19315
19316
19317
19318
19319
19320
19321
19322
19323
19324
19325
19326
19327
19328
19329
19330
19331
19332
19333
19334
19335
19336
19337
19338
19339
19340
19341
19342
19343
19344
19345
19346
19347
19348
19349
19350
19351
19352
19353
19354
19355
19356
19357
19358
19359
19360
19361
19362
19363
19364
19365
19366
19367
19368
19369
19370
19371
19372
19373
19374
19375
19376
19377
19378
19379
19380
19381
19382
19383
19384
19385
19386
19387
19388
19389
19390
19391
19392
19393
19394
19395
19396
19397
19398
19399
19400
19401
19402
19403
19404
19405
19406
19407
19408
19409
19410
19411
19412
19413
19414
19415
19416
19417
19418
19419
19420
19421
19422
19423
19424
19425
19426
19427
19428
19429
19430
19431
19432
19433
19434
19435
19436
19437
19438
19439
19440
19441
19442
19443
19444
19445
19446
19447
19448
19449
19450
19451
19452
19453
19454
19455
19456
19457
19458
19459
19460
19461
19462
19463
19464
19465
19466
19467
19468
19469
19470
19471
19472
19473
19474
19475
19476
19477
19478
19479
19480
19481
19482
19483
19484
19485
19486
19487
19488
19489
19490
19491
19492
19493
19494
19495
19496
19497
19498
19499
19500
19501
19502
19503
19504
19505
19506
19507
19508
19509
19510
19511
19512
19513
19514
19515
19516
19517
19518
19519
19520
19521
19522
19523
19524
19525
19526
19527
19528
19529
19530
19531
19532
19533
19534
19535
19536
19537
19538
19539
19540
19541
19542
19543
19544
19545
19546
19547
19548
19549
19550
19551
19552
19553
19554
19555
19556
19557
19558
19559
19560
19561
19562
19563
19564
19565
19566
19567
19568
19569
19570
19571
19572
19573
19574
19575
19576
19577
19578
19579
19580
19581
19582
19583
19584
19585
19586
19587
19588
19589
19590
19591
19592
19593
19594
19595
19596
19597
19598
19599
19600
19601
19602
19603
19604
19605
19606
19607
19608
19609
19610
19611
19612
19613
19614
19615
19616
19617
19618
19619
19620
19621
19622
19623
19624
19625
19626
19627
19628
19629
19630
19631
19632
19633
19634
19635
19636
19637
19638
19639
19640
19641
19642
19643
19644
19645
19646
19647
19648
19649
19650
19651
19652
19653
19654
19655
19656
19657
19658
19659
19660
19661
19662
19663
19664
19665
19666
19667
19668
19669
19670
19671
19672
19673
19674
19675
19676
19677
19678
19679
19680
19681
19682
19683
19684
19685
19686
19687
19688
19689
19690
19691
19692
19693
19694
19695
19696
19697
19698
19699
19700
19701
19702
19703
19704
19705
19706
19707
19708
19709
19710
19711
19712
19713
19714
19715
19716
19717
19718
19719
19720
19721
19722
19723
19724
19725
19726
19727
19728
19729
19730
19731
19732
19733
19734
19735
19736
19737
19738
19739
19740
19741
19742
19743
19744
19745
19746
19747
19748
19749
19750
19751
19752
19753
19754
19755
19756
19757
19758
19759
19760
19761
19762
19763
19764
19765
19766
19767
19768
19769
19770
19771
19772
19773
19774
19775
19776
19777
19778
19779
19780
19781
19782
19783
19784
19785
19786
19787
19788
19789
19790
19791
19792
19793
19794
19795
19796
19797
19798
19799
19800
19801
19802
19803
19804
19805
19806
19807
19808
19809
19810
19811
19812
19813
19814
19815
19816
19817
19818
19819
19820
19821
19822
19823
19824
19825
19826
19827
19828
19829
19830
19831
19832
19833
19834
19835
19836
19837
19838
19839
19840
19841
19842
19843
19844
19845
19846
19847
19848
19849
19850
19851
19852
19853
19854
19855
19856
19857
19858
19859
19860
19861
19862
19863
19864
19865
19866
19867
19868
19869
19870
19871
19872
19873
19874
19875
19876
19877
19878
19879
19880
19881
19882
19883
19884
19885
19886
19887
19888
19889
19890
19891
19892
19893
19894
19895
19896
19897
19898
19899
19900
19901
19902
19903
19904
19905
19906
19907
19908
19909
19910
19911
19912
19913
19914
19915
19916
19917
19918
19919
19920
19921
19922
19923
19924
19925
19926
19927
19928
19929
19930
19931
19932
19933
19934
19935
19936
19937
19938
19939
19940
19941
19942
19943
19944
19945
19946
19947
19948
19949
19950
19951
19952
19953
19954
19955
19956
19957
19958
19959
19960
19961
19962
19963
19964
19965
19966
19967
19968
19969
19970
19971
19972
19973
19974
19975
19976
19977
19978
19979
19980
19981
19982
19983
19984
19985
19986
19987
19988
19989
19990
19991
19992
19993
19994
19995
19996
19997
19998
19999
20000
20001
20002
20003
20004
20005
20006
20007
20008
20009
20010
20011
20012
20013
20014
20015
20016
20017
20018
20019
20020
20021
20022
20023
20024
20025
20026
20027
20028
20029
20030
20031
20032
20033
20034
20035
20036
20037
20038
20039
20040
20041
20042
20043
20044
20045
20046
20047
20048
20049
20050
20051
20052
20053
20054
20055
20056
20057
20058
20059
20060
20061
20062
20063
20064
20065
20066
20067
20068
20069
20070
20071
20072
20073
20074
20075
20076
20077
20078
20079
20080
20081
20082
20083
20084
20085
20086
20087
20088
20089
20090
20091
20092
20093
20094
20095
20096
20097
20098
20099
20100
20101
20102
20103
20104
20105
20106
20107
20108
20109
20110
20111
20112
20113
20114
20115
20116
20117
20118
20119
20120
20121
20122
20123
20124
20125
20126
20127
20128
20129
20130
20131
20132
20133
20134
20135
20136
20137
20138
20139
20140
20141
20142
20143
20144
20145
20146
20147
20148
20149
20150
20151
20152
20153
20154
20155
20156
20157
20158
20159
20160
20161
20162
20163
20164
20165
20166
20167
20168
20169
20170
20171
20172
20173
20174
20175
20176
20177
20178
20179
20180
20181
20182
20183
20184
20185
20186
20187
20188
20189
20190
20191
20192
20193
20194
20195
20196
20197
20198
20199
20200
20201
20202
20203
20204
20205
20206
20207
20208
20209
20210
20211
20212
20213
20214
20215
20216
20217
20218
20219
20220
20221
20222
20223
20224
20225
20226
20227
20228
20229
20230
20231
20232
20233
20234
20235
20236
20237
20238
20239
20240
20241
20242
20243
20244
20245
20246
20247
20248
20249
20250
20251
20252
20253
20254
20255
20256
20257
20258
20259
20260
20261
20262
20263
20264
20265
20266
20267
20268
20269
20270
20271
20272
20273
20274
20275
20276
20277
20278
20279
20280
20281
20282
20283
20284
20285
20286
20287
20288
20289
20290
20291
20292
20293
20294
20295
20296
20297
20298
20299
20300
20301
20302
20303
20304
20305
20306
20307
20308
20309
20310
20311
20312
20313
20314
20315
20316
20317
20318
20319
20320
20321
20322
20323
20324
20325
20326
20327
20328
20329
20330
20331
20332
20333
20334
20335
20336
20337
20338
20339
20340
20341
20342
20343
20344
20345
20346
20347
20348
20349
20350
20351
20352
20353
20354
20355
20356
20357
20358
20359
20360
20361
20362
20363
20364
20365
20366
20367
20368
20369
20370
20371
20372
20373
20374
20375
20376
20377
20378
20379
20380
20381
20382
20383
20384
20385
20386
20387
20388
20389
20390
20391
20392
20393
20394
20395
20396
20397
20398
20399
20400
20401
20402
20403
20404
20405
20406
20407
20408
20409
20410
20411
20412
20413
20414
20415
20416
20417
20418
20419
20420
20421
20422
20423
20424
20425
20426
20427
20428
20429
20430
20431
20432
20433
20434
20435
20436
20437
20438
20439
20440
20441
20442
20443
20444
20445
20446
20447
20448
20449
20450
20451
20452
20453
20454
20455
20456
20457
20458
20459
20460
20461
20462
20463
20464
20465
20466
20467
20468
20469
20470
20471
20472
20473
20474
20475
20476
20477
20478
20479
20480
20481
20482
20483
20484
20485
20486
20487
20488
20489
20490
20491
20492
20493
20494
20495
20496
20497
20498
20499
20500
20501
20502
20503
20504
20505
20506
20507
20508
20509
20510
20511
20512
20513
20514
20515
20516
20517
20518
20519
20520
20521
20522
20523
20524
20525
20526
20527
20528
20529
20530
20531
20532
20533
20534
20535
20536
20537
20538
20539
20540
20541
20542
20543
20544
20545
20546
20547
20548
20549
20550
20551
20552
20553
20554
20555
20556
20557
20558
20559
20560
20561
20562
20563
20564
20565
20566
20567
20568
20569
20570
20571
20572
20573
20574
20575
20576
20577
20578
20579
20580
20581
20582
20583
20584
20585
20586
20587
20588
20589
20590
20591
20592
20593
20594
20595
20596
20597
20598
20599
20600
20601
20602
20603
20604
20605
20606
20607
20608
20609
20610
20611
20612
20613
20614
20615
20616
20617
20618
20619
20620
20621
20622
20623
20624
20625
20626
20627
20628
20629
20630
20631
20632
20633
20634
20635
20636
20637
20638
20639
20640
20641
20642
20643
20644
20645
20646
20647
20648
20649
20650
20651
20652
20653
20654
20655
20656
20657
20658
20659
20660
20661
20662
20663
20664
20665
20666
20667
20668
20669
20670
20671
20672
20673
20674
20675
20676
20677
20678
20679
20680
20681
20682
20683
20684
20685
20686
20687
20688
20689
20690
20691
20692
20693
20694
20695
20696
20697
20698
20699
20700
20701
20702
20703
20704
20705
20706
20707
20708
20709
20710
20711
20712
20713
20714
20715
20716
20717
20718
20719
20720
20721
20722
20723
20724
20725
20726
20727
20728
20729
20730
20731
20732
20733
20734
20735
20736
20737
20738
20739
20740
20741
20742
20743
20744
20745
20746
20747
20748
20749
20750
20751
20752
20753
20754
20755
20756
20757
20758
20759
20760
20761
20762
20763
20764
20765
20766
20767
20768
20769
20770
20771
20772
20773
20774
20775
20776
20777
20778
20779
20780
20781
20782
20783
20784
20785
20786
20787
20788
20789
20790
20791
20792
20793
20794
20795
20796
20797
20798
20799
20800
20801
20802
20803
20804
20805
20806
20807
20808
20809
20810
20811
20812
20813
20814
20815
20816
20817
20818
20819
20820
20821
20822
20823
20824
20825
20826
20827
20828
20829
20830
20831
20832
20833
20834
20835
20836
20837
20838
20839
20840
20841
20842
20843
20844
20845
20846
20847
20848
20849
20850
20851
20852
20853
20854
20855
20856
20857
20858
20859
20860
20861
20862
20863
20864
20865
20866
20867
20868
20869
20870
20871
20872
20873
20874
20875
20876
20877
20878
20879
20880
20881
20882
20883
20884
20885
20886
20887
20888
20889
20890
20891
20892
20893
20894
20895
20896
20897
20898
20899
20900
20901
20902
20903
20904
20905
20906
20907
20908
20909
20910
20911
20912
20913
20914
20915
20916
20917
20918
20919
20920
20921
20922
20923
20924
20925
20926
20927
20928
20929
20930
20931
20932
20933
20934
20935
20936
20937
20938
20939
20940
20941
20942
20943
20944
20945
20946
20947
20948
20949
20950
20951
20952
20953
20954
20955
20956
20957
20958
20959
20960
20961
20962
20963
20964
20965
20966
20967
20968
20969
20970
20971
20972
20973
20974
20975
20976
20977
20978
20979
20980
20981
20982
20983
20984
20985
20986
20987
20988
20989
20990
20991
20992
20993
20994
20995
20996
20997
20998
20999
21000
21001
21002
21003
21004
21005
21006
21007
21008
21009
21010
21011
21012
21013
21014
21015
21016
21017
21018
21019
21020
21021
21022
21023
21024
21025
21026
21027
21028
21029
21030
21031
21032
21033
21034
21035
21036
21037
21038
21039
21040
21041
21042
21043
21044
21045
21046
21047
21048
21049
21050
21051
21052
21053
21054
21055
21056
21057
21058
21059
21060
21061
21062
21063
21064
21065
21066
21067
21068
21069
21070
21071
21072
21073
21074
21075
21076
21077
21078
21079
21080
21081
21082
21083
21084
21085
21086
21087
21088
21089
21090
21091
21092
21093
21094
21095
21096
21097
21098
21099
21100
21101
21102
21103
21104
21105
21106
21107
21108
21109
21110
21111
21112
21113
21114
21115
21116
21117
21118
21119
21120
21121
21122
21123
21124
21125
21126
21127
21128
21129
21130
21131
21132
21133
21134
21135
21136
21137
21138
21139
21140
21141
21142
21143
21144
21145
21146
21147
21148
21149
21150
21151
21152
21153
21154
21155
21156
21157
21158
21159
21160
21161
21162
21163
21164
21165
21166
21167
21168
21169
21170
21171
21172
21173
21174
21175
21176
21177
21178
21179
21180
21181
21182
21183
21184
21185
21186
21187
21188
21189
21190
21191
21192
21193
21194
21195
21196
21197
21198
21199
21200
21201
21202
21203
21204
21205
21206
21207
21208
21209
21210
21211
21212
21213
21214
21215
21216
21217
21218
21219
21220
21221
21222
21223
21224
21225
21226
21227
21228
21229
21230
21231
21232
21233
21234
21235
21236
21237
21238
21239
21240
21241
21242
21243
21244
21245
21246
21247
21248
21249
21250
21251
21252
21253
21254
21255
21256
21257
21258
21259
21260
21261
21262
21263
21264
21265
21266
21267
21268
21269
21270
21271
21272
21273
21274
21275
21276
21277
21278
21279
21280
21281
21282
21283
21284
21285
21286
21287
21288
21289
21290
21291
21292
21293
21294
21295
21296
21297
21298
21299
21300
21301
21302
21303
21304
21305
21306
21307
21308
21309
21310
21311
21312
21313
21314
21315
21316
21317
21318
21319
21320
21321
21322
21323
21324
21325
21326
21327
21328
21329
21330
21331
21332
21333
21334
21335
21336
21337
21338
21339
21340
21341
21342
21343
21344
21345
21346
21347
21348
21349
21350
21351
21352
21353
21354
21355
21356
21357
21358
21359
21360
21361
21362
21363
21364
21365
21366
21367
21368
21369
21370
21371
21372
21373
21374
21375
21376
21377
21378
21379
21380
21381
21382
21383
21384
21385
21386
21387
21388
21389
21390
21391
21392
21393
21394
21395
21396
21397
21398
21399
21400
21401
21402
21403
21404
21405
21406
21407
21408
21409
21410
21411
21412
21413
21414
21415
21416
21417
21418
21419
21420
21421
21422
21423
21424
21425
21426
21427
21428
21429
21430
21431
21432
21433
21434
21435
21436
21437
21438
21439
21440
21441
21442
21443
21444
21445
21446
21447
21448
21449
21450
21451
21452
21453
21454
21455
21456
21457
21458
21459
21460
21461
21462
21463
21464
21465
21466
21467
21468
21469
21470
21471
21472
21473
21474
21475
21476
21477
21478
21479
21480
21481
21482
21483
21484
21485
21486
21487
21488
21489
21490
21491
21492
21493
21494
21495
21496
21497
21498
21499
21500
21501
21502
21503
21504
21505
21506
21507
21508
21509
21510
21511
21512
21513
21514
21515
21516
21517
21518
21519
21520
21521
21522
21523
21524
21525
21526
21527
21528
21529
21530
21531
21532
21533
21534
21535
21536
21537
21538
21539
21540
21541
21542
21543
21544
21545
21546
21547
21548
21549
21550
21551
21552
21553
21554
21555
21556
21557
21558
21559
21560
21561
21562
21563
21564
21565
21566
21567
21568
21569
21570
21571
21572
21573
21574
21575
21576
21577
21578
21579
21580
21581
21582
21583
21584
21585
21586
21587
21588
21589
21590
21591
21592
21593
21594
21595
21596
21597
21598
21599
21600
21601
21602
21603
21604
21605
21606
21607
21608
21609
21610
21611
21612
21613
21614
21615
21616
21617
21618
21619
21620
21621
21622
21623
21624
21625
21626
21627
21628
21629
21630
21631
21632
21633
21634
21635
21636
21637
21638
21639
21640
21641
21642
21643
21644
21645
21646
21647
21648
21649
21650
21651
21652
21653
21654
21655
21656
21657
21658
21659
21660
21661
21662
21663
21664
21665
21666
21667
21668
21669
21670
21671
21672
21673
21674
21675
21676
21677
21678
21679
21680
21681
21682
21683
21684
21685
21686
21687
21688
21689
21690
21691
21692
21693
21694
21695
21696
21697
21698
21699
21700
21701
21702
21703
21704
21705
21706
21707
21708
21709
21710
21711
21712
21713
21714
21715
21716
21717
21718
21719
21720
21721
21722
21723
21724
21725
21726
21727
21728
21729
21730
21731
21732
21733
21734
21735
21736
21737
21738
21739
21740
21741
21742
21743
21744
21745
21746
21747
21748
21749
21750
21751
21752
21753
21754
21755
21756
21757
21758
21759
21760
21761
21762
21763
21764
21765
21766
21767
21768
21769
21770
21771
21772
21773
21774
21775
21776
21777
21778
21779
21780
21781
21782
21783
21784
21785
21786
21787
21788
21789
21790
21791
21792
21793
21794
21795
21796
21797
21798
21799
21800
21801
21802
21803
21804
21805
21806
21807
21808
21809
21810
21811
21812
21813
21814
21815
21816
21817
21818
21819
21820
21821
21822
21823
21824
21825
21826
21827
21828
21829
21830
21831
21832
21833
21834
21835
21836
21837
21838
21839
21840
21841
21842
21843
21844
21845
21846
21847
21848
21849
21850
21851
21852
21853
21854
21855
21856
21857
21858
21859
21860
21861
21862
21863
21864
21865
21866
21867
21868
21869
21870
21871
21872
21873
21874
21875
21876
21877
21878
21879
21880
21881
21882
21883
21884
21885
21886
21887
21888
21889
21890
21891
21892
21893
21894
21895
21896
21897
21898
21899
21900
21901
21902
21903
21904
21905
21906
21907
21908
21909
21910
21911
21912
21913
21914
21915
21916
21917
21918
21919
21920
21921
21922
21923
21924
21925
21926
21927
21928
21929
21930
21931
21932
21933
21934
21935
21936
21937
21938
21939
21940
21941
21942
21943
21944
21945
21946
21947
21948
21949
21950
21951
21952
21953
21954
21955
21956
21957
21958
21959
21960
21961
21962
21963
21964
21965
21966
21967
21968
21969
21970
21971
21972
21973
21974
21975
21976
21977
21978
21979
21980
21981
21982
21983
21984
21985
21986
21987
21988
21989
21990
21991
21992
21993
21994
21995
21996
21997
21998
21999
22000
22001
22002
22003
22004
22005
22006
22007
22008
22009
22010
22011
22012
22013
22014
22015
22016
22017
22018
22019
22020
22021
22022
22023
22024
22025
22026
22027
22028
22029
22030
22031
22032
22033
22034
22035
22036
22037
22038
22039
22040
22041
22042
22043
22044
22045
22046
22047
22048
22049
22050
22051
22052
22053
22054
22055
22056
22057
22058
22059
22060
22061
22062
22063
22064
22065
22066
22067
22068
22069
22070
22071
22072
22073
22074
22075
22076
22077
22078
22079
22080
22081
22082
22083
22084
22085
22086
22087
22088
22089
22090
22091
22092
22093
22094
22095
22096
22097
22098
22099
22100
22101
22102
22103
22104
22105
22106
22107
22108
22109
22110
22111
22112
22113
22114
22115
22116
22117
22118
22119
22120
22121
22122
22123
22124
22125
22126
22127
22128
22129
22130
22131
22132
22133
22134
22135
22136
22137
22138
22139
22140
22141
22142
22143
22144
22145
22146
22147
22148
22149
22150
22151
22152
22153
22154
22155
22156
22157
22158
22159
22160
22161
22162
22163
22164
22165
22166
22167
22168
22169
22170
22171
22172
22173
22174
22175
22176
22177
22178
22179
22180
22181
22182
22183
22184
22185
22186
22187
22188
22189
22190
22191
22192
22193
22194
22195
22196
22197
22198
22199
22200
22201
22202
22203
22204
22205
22206
22207
22208
22209
22210
22211
22212
22213
22214
22215
22216
22217
22218
22219
22220
22221
22222
22223
22224
22225
22226
22227
22228
22229
22230
22231
22232
22233
22234
22235
22236
22237
22238
22239
22240
22241
22242
22243
22244
22245
22246
22247
22248
22249
22250
22251
22252
22253
22254
22255
22256
22257
22258
22259
22260
22261
22262
22263
22264
22265
22266
22267
22268
22269
22270
22271
22272
22273
22274
22275
22276
22277
22278
22279
22280
22281
22282
22283
22284
22285
22286
22287
22288
22289
22290
22291
22292
22293
22294
22295
22296
22297
22298
22299
22300
22301
22302
22303
22304
22305
22306
22307
22308
22309
22310
22311
22312
22313
22314
22315
22316
22317
22318
22319
22320
22321
22322
22323
22324
22325
22326
22327
22328
22329
22330
22331
22332
22333
22334
22335
22336
22337
22338
22339
22340
22341
22342
22343
22344
22345
22346
22347
22348
22349
22350
22351
22352
22353
22354
22355
22356
22357
22358
22359
22360
22361
22362
22363
22364
22365
22366
22367
22368
22369
22370
22371
22372
22373
22374
22375
22376
22377
22378
22379
22380
22381
22382
22383
22384
22385
22386
22387
22388
22389
22390
22391
22392
22393
22394
22395
22396
22397
22398
22399
22400
22401
22402
22403
22404
22405
22406
22407
22408
22409
22410
22411
22412
22413
22414
22415
22416
22417
22418
22419
22420
22421
22422
22423
22424
22425
22426
22427
22428
22429
22430
22431
22432
22433
22434
22435
22436
22437
22438
22439
22440
22441
22442
22443
22444
22445
22446
22447
22448
22449
22450
22451
22452
22453
22454
22455
22456
22457
22458
22459
22460
22461
22462
22463
22464
22465
22466
22467
22468
22469
22470
22471
22472
22473
22474
22475
22476
22477
22478
22479
22480
22481
22482
22483
22484
22485
22486
22487
22488
22489
22490
22491
22492
22493
22494
22495
22496
22497
22498
22499
22500
22501
22502
22503
22504
22505
22506
22507
22508
22509
22510
22511
22512
22513
22514
22515
22516
22517
22518
22519
22520
22521
22522
22523
22524
22525
22526
22527
22528
22529
22530
22531
22532
22533
22534
22535
22536
22537
22538
22539
22540
22541
22542
22543
22544
22545
22546
22547
22548
22549
22550
22551
22552
22553
22554
22555
22556
22557
22558
22559
22560
22561
22562
22563
22564
22565
22566
22567
22568
22569
22570
22571
22572
22573
22574
22575
22576
22577
22578
22579
22580
22581
22582
22583
22584
22585
22586
22587
22588
22589
22590
22591
22592
22593
22594
22595
22596
22597
22598
22599
22600
22601
22602
22603
22604
22605
22606
22607
22608
22609
22610
22611
22612
22613
22614
22615
22616
22617
22618
22619
22620
22621
22622
22623
22624
22625
22626
22627
22628
22629
22630
22631
22632
22633
22634
22635
22636
22637
22638
22639
22640
22641
22642
22643
22644
22645
22646
22647
22648
22649
22650
22651
22652
22653
22654
22655
22656
22657
22658
22659
22660
22661
22662
22663
22664
22665
22666
22667
22668
22669
22670
22671
22672
22673
22674
22675
22676
22677
22678
22679
22680
22681
22682
22683
22684
22685
22686
22687
22688
22689
22690
22691
22692
22693
22694
22695
22696
22697
22698
22699
22700
22701
22702
22703
22704
22705
22706
22707
22708
22709
22710
22711
22712
22713
22714
22715
22716
22717
22718
22719
22720
22721
22722
22723
22724
22725
22726
22727
22728
22729
22730
22731
22732
22733
22734
22735
22736
22737
22738
22739
22740
22741
22742
22743
22744
22745
22746
22747
22748
22749
22750
22751
22752
22753
22754
22755
22756
22757
22758
22759
22760
22761
22762
22763
22764
22765
22766
22767
22768
22769
22770
22771
22772
22773
22774
22775
22776
22777
22778
22779
22780
22781
22782
22783
22784
22785
22786
22787
22788
22789
22790
22791
22792
22793
22794
22795
22796
22797
22798
22799
22800
22801
22802
22803
22804
22805
22806
22807
22808
22809
22810
22811
22812
22813
22814
22815
22816
22817
22818
22819
22820
22821
22822
22823
22824
22825
22826
22827
22828
22829
22830
22831
22832
22833
22834
22835
22836
22837
22838
22839
22840
22841
22842
22843
22844
22845
22846
22847
22848
22849
22850
22851
22852
22853
22854
22855
22856
22857
22858
22859
22860
22861
22862
22863
22864
22865
22866
22867
22868
22869
22870
22871
22872
22873
22874
22875
22876
22877
22878
22879
22880
22881
22882
22883
22884
22885
22886
22887
22888
22889
22890
22891
22892
22893
22894
22895
22896
22897
22898
22899
22900
22901
22902
22903
22904
22905
22906
22907
22908
22909
22910
22911
22912
22913
22914
22915
22916
22917
22918
22919
22920
22921
22922
22923
22924
22925
22926
22927
22928
22929
22930
22931
22932
22933
22934
22935
22936
22937
22938
22939
22940
22941
22942
22943
22944
22945
22946
22947
22948
22949
22950
22951
22952
22953
22954
22955
22956
22957
22958
22959
22960
22961
22962
22963
22964
22965
22966
22967
22968
22969
22970
22971
22972
22973
22974
22975
22976
22977
22978
22979
22980
22981
22982
22983
22984
22985
22986
22987
22988
22989
22990
22991
22992
22993
22994
22995
22996
22997
22998
22999
23000
23001
23002
23003
23004
23005
23006
23007
23008
23009
23010
23011
23012
23013
23014
23015
23016
23017
23018
23019
23020
23021
23022
23023
23024
23025
23026
23027
23028
23029
23030
23031
23032
23033
23034
23035
23036
23037
23038
23039
23040
23041
23042
23043
23044
23045
23046
23047
23048
23049
23050
23051
23052
23053
23054
23055
23056
23057
23058
23059
23060
23061
23062
23063
23064
23065
23066
23067
23068
23069
23070
23071
23072
23073
23074
23075
23076
23077
23078
23079
23080
23081
23082
23083
23084
23085
23086
23087
23088
23089
23090
23091
23092
23093
23094
23095
23096
23097
23098
23099
23100
23101
23102
23103
23104
23105
23106
23107
23108
23109
23110
23111
23112
23113
23114
23115
23116
23117
23118
23119
23120
23121
23122
23123
23124
23125
23126
23127
23128
23129
23130
23131
23132
23133
23134
23135
23136
23137
23138
23139
23140
23141
23142
23143
23144
23145
23146
23147
23148
23149
23150
23151
23152
23153
23154
23155
23156
23157
23158
23159
23160
23161
23162
23163
23164
23165
23166
23167
23168
23169
23170
23171
23172
23173
23174
23175
23176
23177
23178
23179
23180
23181
23182
23183
23184
23185
23186
23187
23188
23189
23190
23191
23192
23193
23194
23195
23196
23197
23198
23199
23200
23201
23202
23203
23204
23205
23206
23207
23208
23209
23210
23211
23212
23213
23214
23215
23216
23217
23218
23219
23220
23221
23222
23223
23224
23225
23226
23227
23228
23229
23230
23231
23232
23233
23234
23235
23236
23237
23238
23239
23240
23241
23242
23243
23244
23245
23246
23247
23248
23249
23250
23251
23252
23253
23254
23255
23256
23257
23258
23259
23260
23261
23262
23263
23264
23265
23266
23267
23268
23269
23270
23271
23272
23273
23274
23275
23276
23277
23278
23279
23280
23281
23282
23283
23284
23285
23286
23287
23288
23289
23290
23291
23292
23293
23294
23295
23296
23297
23298
23299
23300
23301
23302
23303
23304
23305
23306
23307
23308
23309
23310
23311
23312
23313
23314
23315
23316
23317
23318
23319
23320
23321
23322
23323
23324
23325
23326
23327
23328
23329
23330
23331
23332
23333
23334
23335
23336
23337
23338
23339
23340
23341
23342
23343
23344
23345
23346
23347
23348
23349
23350
23351
23352
23353
23354
23355
23356
23357
23358
23359
23360
23361
23362
23363
23364
23365
23366
23367
23368
23369
23370
23371
23372
23373
23374
23375
23376
23377
23378
23379
23380
23381
23382
23383
23384
23385
23386
23387
23388
23389
23390
23391
23392
23393
23394
23395
23396
23397
23398
23399
23400
23401
23402
23403
23404
23405
23406
23407
23408
23409
23410
23411
23412
23413
23414
23415
23416
23417
23418
23419
23420
23421
23422
23423
23424
23425
23426
23427
23428
23429
23430
23431
23432
23433
23434
23435
23436
23437
23438
23439
23440
23441
23442
23443
23444
23445
23446
23447
23448
23449
23450
23451
23452
23453
23454
23455
23456
23457
23458
23459
23460
23461
23462
23463
23464
23465
23466
23467
23468
23469
23470
23471
23472
23473
23474
23475
23476
23477
23478
23479
23480
23481
23482
23483
23484
23485
23486
23487
23488
23489
23490
23491
23492
23493
23494
23495
23496
23497
23498
23499
23500
23501
23502
23503
23504
23505
23506
23507
23508
23509
23510
23511
23512
23513
23514
23515
23516
23517
23518
23519
23520
23521
23522
23523
23524
23525
23526
23527
23528
23529
23530
23531
23532
23533
23534
23535
23536
23537
23538
23539
23540
23541
23542
23543
23544
23545
23546
23547
23548
23549
23550
23551
23552
23553
23554
23555
23556
23557
23558
23559
23560
23561
23562
23563
23564
23565
23566
23567
23568
23569
23570
23571
23572
23573
23574
23575
23576
23577
23578
23579
23580
23581
23582
23583
23584
23585
23586
23587
23588
23589
23590
23591
23592
23593
23594
23595
23596
23597
23598
23599
23600
23601
23602
23603
23604
23605
23606
23607
23608
23609
23610
23611
23612
23613
23614
23615
23616
23617
23618
23619
23620
23621
23622
23623
23624
23625
23626
23627
23628
23629
23630
23631
23632
23633
23634
23635
23636
23637
23638
23639
23640
23641
23642
23643
23644
23645
23646
23647
23648
23649
23650
23651
23652
23653
23654
23655
23656
23657
23658
23659
23660
23661
23662
23663
23664
23665
23666
23667
23668
23669
23670
23671
23672
23673
23674
23675
23676
23677
23678
23679
23680
23681
23682
23683
23684
23685
23686
23687
23688
23689
23690
23691
23692
23693
23694
23695
23696
23697
23698
23699
23700
23701
23702
23703
23704
23705
23706
23707
23708
23709
23710
23711
23712
23713
23714
23715
23716
23717
23718
23719
23720
23721
23722
23723
23724
23725
23726
23727
23728
23729
23730
23731
23732
23733
23734
23735
23736
23737
23738
23739
23740
23741
23742
23743
23744
23745
23746
23747
23748
23749
23750
23751
23752
23753
23754
23755
23756
23757
23758
23759
23760
23761
23762
23763
23764
23765
23766
23767
23768
23769
23770
23771
23772
23773
23774
23775
23776
23777
23778
23779
23780
23781
23782
23783
23784
23785
23786
23787
23788
23789
23790
23791
23792
23793
23794
23795
23796
23797
23798
23799
23800
23801
23802
23803
23804
23805
23806
23807
23808
23809
23810
23811
23812
23813
23814
23815
23816
23817
23818
23819
23820
23821
23822
23823
23824
23825
23826
23827
23828
23829
23830
23831
23832
23833
23834
23835
23836
23837
23838
23839
23840
23841
23842
23843
23844
23845
23846
23847
23848
23849
23850
23851
23852
23853
23854
23855
23856
23857
23858
23859
23860
23861
23862
23863
23864
23865
23866
23867
23868
23869
23870
23871
23872
23873
23874
23875
23876
23877
23878
23879
23880
23881
23882
23883
23884
23885
23886
23887
23888
23889
23890
23891
23892
23893
23894
23895
23896
23897
23898
23899
23900
23901
23902
23903
23904
23905
23906
23907
23908
23909
23910
23911
23912
23913
23914
23915
23916
23917
23918
23919
23920
23921
23922
23923
23924
23925
23926
23927
23928
23929
23930
23931
23932
23933
23934
23935
23936
23937
23938
23939
23940
23941
23942
23943
23944
23945
23946
23947
23948
23949
23950
23951
23952
23953
23954
23955
23956
23957
23958
23959
23960
23961
23962
23963
23964
23965
23966
23967
23968
23969
23970
23971
23972
23973
23974
23975
23976
23977
23978
23979
23980
23981
23982
23983
23984
23985
23986
23987
23988
23989
23990
23991
23992
23993
23994
23995
23996
23997
23998
23999
24000
24001
24002
24003
24004
24005
24006
24007
24008
24009
24010
24011
24012
24013
24014
24015
24016
24017
24018
24019
24020
24021
24022
24023
24024
24025
24026
24027
24028
24029
24030
24031
24032
24033
24034
24035
24036
24037
24038
24039
24040
24041
24042
24043
24044
24045
24046
24047
24048
24049
24050
24051
24052
24053
24054
24055
24056
24057
24058
24059
24060
24061
24062
24063
24064
24065
24066
24067
24068
24069
24070
24071
24072
24073
24074
24075
24076
24077
24078
24079
24080
24081
24082
24083
24084
24085
24086
24087
24088
24089
24090
24091
24092
24093
24094
24095
24096
24097
24098
24099
24100
24101
24102
24103
24104
24105
24106
24107
24108
24109
24110
24111
24112
24113
24114
24115
24116
24117
24118
24119
24120
24121
24122
24123
24124
24125
24126
24127
24128
24129
24130
24131
24132
24133
24134
24135
24136
24137
24138
24139
24140
24141
24142
24143
24144
24145
24146
24147
24148
24149
24150
24151
24152
24153
24154
24155
24156
24157
24158
24159
24160
24161
24162
24163
24164
24165
24166
24167
24168
24169
24170
24171
24172
24173
24174
24175
24176
24177
24178
24179
24180
24181
24182
24183
24184
24185
24186
24187
24188
24189
24190
24191
24192
24193
24194
24195
24196
24197
24198
24199
24200
24201
24202
24203
24204
24205
24206
24207
24208
24209
24210
24211
24212
24213
24214
24215
24216
24217
24218
24219
24220
24221
24222
24223
24224
24225
24226
24227
24228
24229
24230
24231
24232
24233
24234
24235
24236
24237
24238
24239
24240
24241
24242
24243
24244
24245
24246
24247
24248
24249
24250
24251
24252
24253
24254
24255
24256
24257
24258
24259
24260
24261
24262
24263
24264
24265
24266
24267
24268
24269
24270
24271
24272
24273
24274
24275
24276
24277
24278
24279
24280
24281
24282
24283
24284
24285
24286
24287
24288
24289
24290
24291
24292
24293
24294
24295
24296
24297
24298
24299
24300
24301
24302
24303
24304
24305
24306
24307
24308
24309
24310
24311
24312
24313
24314
24315
24316
24317
24318
24319
24320
24321
24322
24323
24324
24325
24326
24327
24328
24329
24330
24331
24332
24333
24334
24335
24336
24337
24338
24339
24340
24341
24342
24343
24344
24345
24346
24347
24348
24349
24350
24351
24352
24353
24354
24355
24356
24357
24358
24359
24360
24361
24362
24363
24364
24365
24366
24367
24368
24369
24370
24371
24372
24373
24374
24375
24376
24377
24378
24379
24380
24381
24382
24383
24384
24385
24386
24387
24388
24389
24390
24391
24392
24393
24394
24395
24396
24397
24398
24399
24400
24401
24402
24403
24404
24405
24406
24407
24408
24409
24410
24411
24412
24413
24414
24415
24416
24417
24418
24419
24420
24421
24422
24423
24424
24425
24426
24427
24428
24429
24430
24431
24432
24433
24434
24435
24436
24437
24438
24439
24440
24441
24442
24443
24444
24445
24446
24447
24448
24449
24450
24451
24452
24453
24454
24455
24456
24457
24458
24459
24460
24461
24462
24463
24464
24465
24466
24467
24468
24469
24470
24471
24472
24473
24474
24475
24476
24477
24478
24479
24480
24481
24482
24483
24484
24485
24486
24487
24488
24489
24490
24491
24492
24493
24494
24495
24496
24497
24498
24499
24500
24501
24502
24503
24504
24505
24506
24507
24508
24509
24510
24511
24512
24513
24514
24515
24516
24517
24518
24519
24520
24521
24522
24523
24524
24525
24526
24527
24528
24529
24530
24531
24532
24533
24534
24535
24536
24537
24538
24539
24540
24541
24542
24543
24544
24545
24546
24547
24548
24549
24550
24551
24552
24553
24554
24555
24556
24557
24558
24559
24560
24561
24562
24563
24564
24565
24566
24567
24568
24569
24570
24571
24572
24573
24574
24575
24576
24577
24578
24579
24580
24581
24582
24583
24584
24585
24586
24587
24588
24589
24590
24591
24592
24593
24594
24595
24596
24597
24598
24599
24600
24601
24602
24603
24604
24605
24606
24607
24608
24609
24610
24611
24612
24613
24614
24615
24616
24617
24618
24619
24620
24621
24622
24623
24624
24625
24626
24627
24628
24629
24630
24631
24632
24633
24634
24635
24636
24637
24638
24639
24640
24641
24642
24643
24644
24645
24646
24647
24648
24649
24650
24651
24652
24653
24654
24655
24656
24657
24658
24659
24660
24661
24662
24663
24664
24665
24666
24667
24668
24669
24670
24671
24672
24673
24674
24675
24676
24677
24678
24679
24680
24681
24682
24683
24684
24685
24686
24687
24688
24689
24690
24691
24692
24693
24694
24695
24696
24697
24698
24699
24700
24701
24702
24703
24704
24705
24706
24707
24708
24709
24710
24711
24712
24713
24714
24715
24716
24717
24718
24719
24720
24721
24722
24723
24724
24725
24726
24727
24728
24729
24730
24731
24732
24733
24734
24735
24736
24737
24738
24739
24740
24741
24742
24743
24744
24745
24746
24747
24748
24749
24750
24751
24752
24753
24754
24755
24756
24757
24758
24759
24760
24761
24762
24763
24764
24765
24766
24767
24768
24769
24770
24771
24772
24773
24774
24775
24776
24777
24778
24779
24780
24781
24782
24783
24784
24785
24786
24787
24788
24789
24790
24791
24792
24793
24794
24795
24796
24797
24798
24799
24800
24801
24802
24803
24804
24805
24806
24807
24808
24809
24810
24811
24812
24813
24814
24815
24816
24817
24818
24819
24820
24821
24822
24823
24824
24825
24826
24827
24828
24829
24830
24831
24832
24833
24834
24835
24836
24837
24838
24839
24840
24841
24842
24843
24844
24845
24846
24847
24848
24849
24850
24851
24852
24853
24854
24855
24856
24857
24858
24859
24860
24861
24862
24863
24864
24865
24866
24867
24868
24869
24870
24871
24872
24873
24874
24875
24876
24877
24878
24879
24880
24881
24882
24883
24884
24885
24886
24887
24888
24889
24890
24891
24892
24893
24894
24895
24896
24897
24898
24899
24900
24901
24902
24903
24904
24905
24906
24907
24908
24909
24910
24911
24912
24913
24914
24915
24916
24917
24918
24919
24920
24921
24922
24923
24924
24925
24926
24927
24928
24929
24930
24931
24932
24933
24934
24935
24936
24937
24938
24939
24940
24941
24942
24943
24944
24945
24946
24947
24948
24949
24950
24951
24952
24953
24954
24955
24956
24957
24958
24959
24960
24961
24962
24963
24964
24965
24966
24967
24968
24969
24970
24971
24972
24973
24974
24975
24976
24977
24978
24979
24980
24981
24982
24983
24984
24985
24986
24987
24988
24989
24990
24991
24992
24993
24994
24995
24996
24997
24998
24999
25000
25001
25002
25003
25004
25005
25006
25007
25008
25009
25010
25011
25012
25013
25014
25015
25016
25017
25018
25019
25020
25021
25022
25023
25024
25025
25026
25027
25028
25029
25030
25031
25032
25033
25034
25035
25036
25037
25038
25039
25040
25041
25042
25043
25044
25045
25046
25047
25048
25049
25050
25051
25052
25053
25054
25055
25056
25057
25058
25059
25060
25061
25062
25063
25064
25065
25066
25067
25068
25069
25070
25071
25072
25073
25074
25075
25076
25077
25078
25079
25080
25081
25082
25083
25084
25085
25086
25087
25088
25089
25090
25091
25092
25093
25094
25095
25096
25097
25098
25099
25100
25101
25102
25103
25104
25105
25106
25107
25108
25109
25110
25111
25112
25113
25114
25115
25116
25117
25118
25119
25120
25121
25122
25123
25124
25125
25126
25127
25128
25129
25130
25131
25132
25133
25134
25135
25136
25137
25138
25139
25140
25141
25142
25143
25144
25145
25146
25147
25148
25149
25150
25151
25152
25153
25154
25155
25156
25157
25158
25159
25160
25161
25162
25163
25164
25165
25166
25167
25168
25169
25170
25171
25172
25173
25174
25175
25176
25177
25178
25179
25180
25181
25182
25183
25184
25185
25186
25187
25188
25189
25190
25191
25192
25193
25194
25195
25196
25197
25198
25199
25200
25201
25202
25203
25204
25205
25206
25207
25208
25209
25210
25211
25212
25213
25214
25215
25216
25217
25218
25219
25220
25221
25222
25223
25224
25225
25226
25227
25228
25229
25230
25231
25232
25233
25234
25235
25236
25237
25238
25239
25240
25241
25242
25243
25244
25245
25246
25247
25248
25249
25250
25251
25252
25253
25254
25255
25256
25257
25258
25259
25260
25261
25262
25263
25264
25265
25266
25267
25268
25269
25270
25271
25272
25273
25274
25275
25276
25277
25278
25279
25280
25281
25282
25283
25284
25285
25286
25287
25288
25289
25290
25291
25292
25293
25294
25295
25296
25297
25298
25299
25300
25301
25302
25303
25304
25305
25306
25307
25308
25309
25310
25311
25312
25313
25314
25315
25316
25317
25318
25319
25320
25321
25322
25323
25324
25325
25326
25327
25328
25329
25330
25331
25332
25333
25334
25335
25336
25337
25338
25339
25340
25341
25342
25343
25344
25345
25346
25347
25348
25349
25350
25351
25352
25353
25354
25355
25356
25357
25358
25359
25360
25361
25362
25363
25364
25365
25366
25367
25368
25369
25370
25371
25372
25373
25374
25375
25376
25377
25378
25379
25380
25381
25382
25383
25384
25385
25386
25387
25388
25389
25390
25391
25392
25393
25394
25395
25396
25397
25398
25399
25400
25401
25402
25403
25404
25405
25406
25407
25408
25409
25410
25411
25412
25413
25414
25415
25416
25417
25418
25419
25420
25421
25422
25423
25424
25425
25426
25427
25428
25429
25430
25431
25432
25433
25434
25435
25436
25437
25438
25439
25440
25441
25442
25443
25444
25445
25446
25447
25448
25449
25450
25451
25452
25453
25454
25455
25456
25457
25458
25459
25460
25461
25462
25463
25464
25465
25466
25467
25468
25469
25470
25471
25472
25473
25474
25475
25476
25477
25478
25479
25480
25481
25482
25483
25484
25485
25486
25487
25488
25489
25490
25491
25492
25493
25494
25495
25496
25497
25498
25499
25500
25501
25502
25503
25504
25505
25506
25507
25508
25509
25510
25511
25512
25513
25514
25515
25516
25517
25518
25519
25520
25521
25522
25523
25524
25525
25526
25527
25528
25529
25530
25531
25532
25533
25534
25535
25536
25537
25538
25539
25540
25541
25542
25543
25544
25545
25546
25547
25548
25549
25550
25551
25552
25553
25554
25555
25556
25557
25558
25559
25560
25561
25562
25563
25564
25565
25566
25567
25568
25569
25570
25571
25572
25573
25574
25575
25576
25577
25578
25579
25580
25581
25582
25583
25584
25585
25586
25587
25588
25589
25590
25591
25592
25593
25594
25595
25596
25597
25598
25599
25600
25601
25602
25603
25604
25605
25606
25607
25608
25609
25610
25611
25612
25613
25614
25615
25616
25617
25618
25619
25620
25621
25622
25623
25624
25625
25626
25627
25628
25629
25630
25631
25632
25633
25634
25635
25636
25637
25638
25639
25640
25641
25642
25643
25644
25645
25646
25647
25648
25649
25650
25651
25652
25653
25654
25655
25656
25657
25658
25659
25660
25661
25662
25663
25664
25665
25666
25667
25668
25669
25670
25671
25672
25673
25674
25675
25676
25677
25678
25679
25680
25681
25682
25683
25684
25685
25686
25687
25688
25689
25690
25691
25692
25693
25694
25695
25696
25697
25698
25699
25700
25701
25702
25703
25704
25705
25706
25707
25708
25709
25710
25711
25712
25713
25714
25715
25716
25717
25718
25719
25720
25721
25722
25723
25724
25725
25726
25727
25728
25729
25730
25731
25732
25733
25734
25735
25736
25737
25738
25739
25740
25741
25742
25743
25744
25745
25746
25747
25748
25749
25750
25751
25752
25753
25754
25755
25756
25757
25758
25759
25760
25761
25762
25763
25764
25765
25766
25767
25768
25769
25770
25771
25772
25773
25774
25775
25776
25777
25778
25779
25780
25781
25782
25783
25784
25785
25786
25787
25788
25789
25790
25791
25792
25793
25794
25795
25796
25797
25798
25799
25800
25801
25802
25803
25804
25805
25806
25807
25808
25809
25810
25811
25812
25813
25814
25815
25816
25817
25818
25819
25820
25821
25822
25823
25824
25825
25826
25827
25828
25829
25830
25831
25832
25833
25834
25835
25836
25837
25838
25839
25840
25841
25842
25843
25844
25845
25846
25847
25848
25849
25850
25851
25852
25853
25854
25855
25856
25857
25858
25859
25860
25861
25862
25863
25864
25865
25866
25867
25868
25869
25870
25871
25872
25873
25874
25875
25876
25877
25878
25879
25880
25881
25882
25883
25884
25885
25886
25887
25888
25889
25890
25891
25892
25893
25894
25895
25896
25897
25898
25899
25900
25901
25902
25903
25904
25905
25906
25907
25908
25909
25910
25911
25912
25913
25914
25915
25916
25917
25918
25919
25920
25921
25922
25923
25924
25925
25926
25927
25928
25929
25930
25931
25932
25933
25934
25935
25936
25937
25938
25939
25940
25941
25942
25943
25944
25945
25946
25947
25948
25949
25950
25951
25952
25953
25954
25955
25956
25957
25958
25959
25960
25961
25962
25963
25964
25965
25966
25967
25968
25969
25970
25971
25972
25973
25974
25975
25976
25977
25978
25979
25980
25981
25982
25983
25984
25985
25986
25987
25988
25989
25990
25991
25992
25993
25994
25995
25996
25997
25998
25999
26000
26001
26002
26003
26004
26005
26006
26007
26008
26009
26010
26011
26012
26013
26014
26015
26016
26017
26018
26019
26020
26021
26022
26023
26024
26025
26026
26027
26028
26029
26030
26031
26032
26033
26034
26035
26036
26037
26038
26039
26040
26041
26042
26043
26044
26045
26046
26047
26048
26049
26050
26051
26052
26053
26054
26055
26056
26057
26058
26059
26060
26061
26062
26063
26064
26065
26066
26067
26068
26069
26070
26071
26072
26073
26074
26075
26076
26077
26078
26079
26080
26081
26082
26083
26084
26085
26086
26087
26088
26089
26090
26091
26092
26093
26094
26095
26096
26097
26098
26099
26100
26101
26102
26103
26104
26105
26106
26107
26108
26109
26110
26111
26112
26113
26114
26115
26116
26117
26118
26119
26120
26121
26122
26123
26124
26125
26126
26127
26128
26129
26130
26131
26132
26133
26134
26135
26136
26137
26138
26139
26140
26141
26142
26143
26144
26145
26146
26147
26148
26149
26150
26151
26152
26153
26154
26155
26156
26157
26158
26159
26160
26161
26162
26163
26164
26165
26166
26167
26168
26169
26170
26171
26172
26173
26174
26175
26176
26177
26178
26179
26180
26181
26182
26183
26184
26185
26186
26187
26188
26189
26190
26191
26192
26193
26194
26195
26196
26197
26198
26199
26200
26201
26202
26203
26204
26205
26206
26207
26208
26209
26210
26211
26212
26213
26214
26215
26216
26217
26218
26219
26220
26221
26222
26223
26224
26225
26226
26227
26228
26229
26230
26231
26232
26233
26234
26235
26236
26237
26238
26239
26240
26241
26242
26243
26244
26245
26246
26247
26248
26249
26250
26251
26252
26253
26254
26255
26256
26257
26258
26259
26260
26261
26262
26263
26264
26265
26266
26267
26268
26269
26270
26271
26272
26273
26274
26275
26276
26277
26278
26279
26280
26281
26282
26283
26284
26285
26286
26287
26288
26289
26290
26291
26292
26293
26294
26295
26296
26297
26298
26299
26300
26301
26302
26303
26304
26305
26306
26307
26308
26309
26310
26311
26312
26313
26314
26315
26316
26317
26318
26319
26320
26321
26322
26323
26324
26325
26326
26327
26328
26329
26330
26331
26332
26333
26334
26335
26336
26337
26338
26339
26340
26341
26342
26343
26344
26345
26346
26347
26348
26349
26350
26351
26352
26353
26354
26355
26356
26357
26358
26359
26360
26361
26362
26363
26364
26365
26366
26367
26368
26369
26370
26371
26372
26373
26374
26375
26376
26377
26378
26379
26380
26381
26382
26383
26384
26385
26386
26387
26388
26389
26390
26391
26392
26393
26394
26395
26396
26397
26398
26399
26400
26401
26402
26403
26404
26405
26406
26407
26408
26409
26410
26411
26412
26413
26414
26415
26416
26417
26418
26419
26420
26421
26422
26423
26424
26425
26426
26427
26428
26429
26430
26431
26432
26433
26434
26435
26436
26437
26438
26439
26440
26441
26442
26443
26444
26445
26446
26447
26448
26449
26450
26451
26452
26453
26454
26455
26456
26457
26458
26459
26460
26461
26462
26463
26464
26465
26466
26467
26468
26469
26470
26471
26472
26473
26474
26475
26476
26477
26478
26479
26480
26481
26482
26483
26484
26485
26486
26487
26488
26489
26490
26491
26492
26493
26494
26495
26496
26497
26498
26499
26500
26501
26502
26503
26504
26505
26506
26507
26508
26509
26510
26511
26512
26513
26514
26515
26516
26517
26518
26519
26520
26521
26522
26523
26524
26525
26526
26527
26528
26529
26530
26531
26532
26533
26534
26535
26536
26537
26538
26539
26540
26541
26542
26543
26544
26545
26546
26547
26548
26549
26550
26551
26552
26553
26554
26555
26556
26557
26558
26559
26560
26561
26562
26563
26564
26565
26566
26567
26568
26569
26570
26571
26572
26573
26574
26575
26576
26577
26578
26579
26580
26581
26582
26583
26584
26585
26586
26587
26588
26589
26590
26591
26592
26593
26594
26595
26596
26597
26598
26599
26600
26601
26602
26603
26604
26605
26606
26607
26608
26609
26610
26611
26612
26613
26614
26615
26616
26617
26618
26619
26620
26621
26622
26623
26624
26625
26626
26627
26628
26629
26630
26631
26632
26633
26634
26635
26636
26637
26638
26639
26640
26641
26642
26643
26644
26645
26646
26647
26648
26649
26650
26651
26652
26653
26654
26655
26656
26657
26658
26659
26660
26661
26662
26663
26664
26665
26666
26667
26668
26669
26670
26671
26672
26673
26674
26675
26676
26677
26678
26679
26680
26681
26682
26683
26684
26685
26686
26687
26688
26689
26690
26691
26692
26693
26694
26695
26696
26697
26698
26699
26700
26701
26702
26703
26704
26705
26706
26707
26708
26709
26710
26711
26712
26713
26714
26715
26716
26717
26718
26719
26720
26721
26722
26723
26724
26725
26726
26727
26728
26729
26730
26731
26732
26733
26734
26735
26736
26737
26738
26739
26740
26741
26742
26743
26744
26745
26746
26747
26748
26749
26750
26751
26752
26753
26754
26755
26756
26757
26758
26759
26760
26761
26762
26763
26764
26765
26766
26767
26768
26769
26770
26771
26772
26773
26774
26775
26776
26777
26778
26779
26780
26781
26782
26783
26784
26785
26786
26787
26788
26789
26790
26791
26792
26793
26794
26795
26796
26797
26798
26799
26800
26801
26802
26803
26804
26805
26806
26807
26808
26809
26810
26811
26812
26813
26814
26815
26816
26817
26818
26819
26820
26821
26822
26823
26824
26825
26826
26827
26828
26829
26830
26831
26832
26833
26834
26835
26836
26837
26838
26839
26840
26841
26842
26843
26844
26845
26846
26847
26848
26849
26850
26851
26852
26853
26854
26855
26856
26857
26858
26859
26860
26861
26862
26863
26864
26865
26866
26867
26868
26869
26870
26871
26872
26873
26874
26875
26876
26877
26878
26879
26880
26881
26882
26883
26884
26885
26886
26887
26888
26889
26890
26891
26892
26893
26894
26895
26896
26897
26898
26899
26900
26901
26902
26903
26904
26905
26906
26907
26908
26909
26910
26911
26912
26913
26914
26915
26916
26917
26918
26919
26920
26921
26922
26923
26924
26925
26926
26927
26928
26929
26930
26931
26932
26933
26934
26935
26936
26937
26938
26939
26940
26941
26942
26943
26944
26945
26946
26947
26948
26949
26950
26951
26952
26953
26954
26955
26956
26957
26958
26959
26960
26961
26962
26963
26964
26965
26966
26967
26968
26969
26970
26971
26972
26973
26974
26975
26976
26977
26978
26979
26980
26981
26982
26983
26984
26985
26986
26987
26988
26989
26990
26991
26992
26993
26994
26995
26996
26997
26998
26999
27000
27001
27002
27003
27004
27005
27006
27007
27008
27009
27010
27011
27012
27013
27014
27015
27016
27017
27018
27019
27020
27021
27022
27023
27024
27025
27026
27027
27028
27029
27030
27031
27032
27033
27034
27035
27036
27037
27038
27039
27040
27041
27042
27043
27044
27045
27046
27047
27048
27049
27050
27051
27052
27053
27054
27055
27056
27057
27058
27059
27060
27061
27062
27063
27064
27065
27066
27067
27068
27069
27070
27071
27072
27073
27074
27075
27076
27077
27078
27079
27080
27081
27082
27083
27084
27085
27086
27087
27088
27089
27090
27091
27092
27093
27094
27095
27096
27097
27098
27099
27100
27101
27102
27103
27104
27105
27106
27107
27108
27109
27110
27111
27112
27113
27114
27115
27116
27117
27118
27119
27120
27121
27122
27123
27124
27125
27126
27127
27128
27129
27130
27131
27132
27133
27134
27135
27136
27137
27138
27139
27140
27141
27142
27143
27144
27145
27146
27147
27148
27149
27150
27151
27152
27153
27154
27155
27156
27157
27158
27159
27160
27161
27162
27163
27164
27165
27166
27167
27168
27169
27170
27171
27172
27173
27174
27175
27176
27177
27178
27179
27180
27181
27182
27183
27184
27185
27186
27187
27188
27189
27190
27191
27192
27193
27194
27195
27196
27197
27198
27199
27200
27201
27202
27203
27204
27205
27206
27207
27208
27209
27210
27211
27212
27213
27214
27215
27216
27217
27218
27219
27220
27221
27222
27223
27224
27225
27226
27227
27228
27229
27230
27231
27232
27233
27234
27235
27236
27237
27238
27239
27240
27241
27242
27243
27244
27245
27246
27247
27248
27249
27250
27251
27252
27253
27254
27255
27256
27257
27258
27259
27260
27261
27262
27263
27264
27265
27266
27267
27268
27269
27270
27271
27272
27273
27274
27275
27276
27277
27278
27279
27280
27281
27282
27283
27284
27285
27286
27287
27288
27289
27290
27291
27292
27293
27294
27295
27296
27297
27298
27299
27300
27301
27302
27303
27304
27305
27306
27307
27308
27309
27310
27311
27312
27313
27314
27315
27316
27317
27318
27319
27320
27321
27322
27323
27324
27325
27326
27327
27328
27329
27330
27331
27332
27333
27334
27335
27336
27337
27338
27339
27340
27341
27342
27343
27344
27345
27346
27347
27348
27349
27350
27351
27352
27353
27354
27355
27356
27357
27358
27359
27360
27361
27362
27363
27364
27365
27366
27367
27368
27369
27370
27371
27372
27373
27374
27375
27376
27377
27378
27379
27380
27381
27382
27383
27384
27385
27386
27387
27388
27389
27390
27391
27392
27393
27394
27395
27396
27397
27398
27399
27400
27401
27402
27403
27404
27405
27406
27407
27408
27409
27410
27411
27412
27413
27414
27415
27416
27417
27418
27419
27420
27421
27422
27423
27424
27425
27426
27427
27428
27429
27430
27431
27432
27433
27434
27435
27436
27437
27438
27439
27440
27441
27442
27443
27444
27445
27446
27447
27448
27449
27450
27451
27452
27453
27454
27455
27456
27457
27458
27459
27460
27461
27462
27463
27464
27465
27466
27467
27468
27469
27470
27471
27472
27473
27474
27475
27476
27477
27478
27479
27480
27481
27482
27483
27484
27485
27486
27487
27488
27489
27490
27491
27492
27493
27494
27495
27496
27497
27498
27499
27500
27501
27502
27503
27504
27505
27506
27507
27508
27509
27510
27511
27512
27513
27514
27515
27516
27517
27518
27519
27520
27521
27522
27523
27524
27525
27526
27527
27528
27529
27530
27531
27532
27533
27534
27535
27536
27537
27538
27539
27540
27541
27542
27543
27544
27545
27546
27547
27548
27549
27550
27551
27552
27553
27554
27555
27556
27557
27558
27559
27560
27561
27562
27563
27564
27565
27566
27567
27568
27569
27570
27571
27572
27573
27574
27575
27576
27577
27578
27579
27580
27581
27582
27583
27584
27585
27586
27587
27588
27589
27590
27591
27592
27593
27594
27595
27596
27597
27598
27599
27600
27601
27602
27603
27604
27605
27606
27607
27608
27609
27610
27611
27612
27613
27614
27615
27616
27617
27618
27619
27620
27621
27622
27623
27624
27625
27626
27627
27628
27629
27630
27631
27632
27633
27634
27635
27636
27637
27638
27639
27640
27641
27642
27643
27644
27645
27646
27647
27648
27649
27650
27651
27652
27653
27654
27655
27656
27657
27658
27659
27660
27661
27662
27663
27664
27665
27666
27667
27668
27669
27670
27671
27672
27673
27674
27675
27676
27677
27678
27679
27680
27681
27682
27683
27684
27685
27686
27687
27688
27689
27690
27691
27692
27693
27694
27695
27696
27697
27698
27699
27700
27701
27702
27703
27704
27705
27706
27707
27708
27709
27710
27711
27712
27713
27714
27715
27716
27717
27718
27719
27720
27721
27722
27723
27724
27725
27726
27727
27728
27729
27730
27731
27732
27733
27734
27735
27736
27737
27738
27739
27740
27741
27742
27743
27744
27745
27746
27747
27748
27749
27750
27751
27752
27753
27754
27755
27756
27757
27758
27759
27760
27761
27762
27763
27764
27765
27766
27767
27768
27769
27770
27771
27772
27773
27774
27775
27776
27777
27778
27779
27780
27781
27782
27783
27784
27785
27786
27787
27788
27789
27790
27791
27792
27793
27794
27795
27796
27797
27798
27799
27800
27801
27802
27803
27804
27805
27806
27807
27808
27809
27810
27811
27812
27813
27814
27815
27816
27817
27818
27819
27820
27821
27822
27823
27824
27825
27826
27827
27828
27829
27830
27831
27832
27833
27834
27835
27836
27837
27838
27839
27840
27841
27842
27843
27844
27845
27846
27847
27848
27849
27850
27851
27852
27853
27854
27855
27856
27857
27858
27859
27860
27861
27862
27863
27864
27865
27866
27867
27868
27869
27870
27871
27872
27873
27874
27875
27876
27877
27878
27879
27880
27881
27882
27883
27884
27885
27886
27887
27888
27889
27890
27891
27892
27893
27894
27895
27896
27897
27898
27899
27900
27901
27902
27903
27904
27905
27906
27907
27908
27909
27910
27911
27912
27913
27914
27915
27916
27917
27918
27919
27920
27921
27922
27923
27924
27925
27926
27927
27928
27929
27930
27931
27932
27933
27934
27935
27936
27937
27938
27939
27940
27941
27942
27943
27944
27945
27946
27947
27948
27949
27950
27951
27952
27953
27954
27955
27956
27957
27958
27959
27960
27961
27962
27963
27964
27965
27966
27967
27968
27969
27970
27971
27972
27973
27974
27975
27976
27977
27978
27979
27980
27981
27982
27983
27984
27985
27986
27987
27988
27989
27990
27991
27992
27993
27994
27995
27996
27997
27998
27999
28000
28001
28002
28003
28004
28005
28006
28007
28008
28009
28010
28011
28012
28013
28014
28015
28016
28017
28018
28019
28020
28021
28022
28023
28024
28025
28026
28027
28028
28029
28030
28031
28032
28033
28034
28035
28036
28037
28038
28039
28040
28041
28042
28043
28044
28045
28046
28047
28048
28049
28050
28051
28052
28053
28054
28055
28056
28057
28058
28059
28060
28061
28062
28063
28064
28065
28066
28067
28068
28069
28070
28071
28072
28073
28074
28075
28076
28077
28078
28079
28080
28081
28082
28083
28084
28085
28086
28087
28088
28089
28090
28091
28092
28093
28094
28095
28096
28097
28098
28099
28100
28101
28102
28103
28104
28105
28106
28107
28108
28109
28110
28111
28112
28113
28114
28115
28116
28117
28118
28119
28120
28121
28122
28123
28124
28125
28126
28127
28128
28129
28130
28131
28132
28133
28134
28135
28136
28137
28138
28139
28140
28141
28142
28143
28144
28145
28146
28147
28148
28149
28150
28151
28152
28153
28154
28155
28156
28157
28158
28159
28160
28161
28162
28163
28164
28165
28166
28167
28168
28169
28170
28171
28172
28173
28174
28175
28176
28177
28178
28179
28180
28181
28182
28183
28184
28185
28186
28187
28188
28189
28190
28191
28192
28193
28194
28195
28196
28197
28198
28199
28200
28201
28202
28203
28204
28205
28206
28207
28208
28209
28210
28211
28212
28213
28214
28215
28216
28217
28218
28219
28220
28221
28222
28223
28224
28225
28226
28227
28228
28229
28230
28231
28232
28233
28234
28235
28236
28237
28238
28239
28240
28241
28242
28243
28244
28245
28246
28247
28248
28249
28250
28251
28252
28253
28254
28255
28256
28257
28258
28259
28260
28261
28262
28263
28264
28265
28266
28267
28268
28269
28270
28271
28272
28273
28274
28275
28276
28277
28278
28279
28280
28281
28282
28283
28284
28285
28286
28287
28288
28289
28290
28291
28292
28293
28294
28295
28296
28297
28298
28299
28300
28301
28302
28303
28304
28305
28306
28307
28308
28309
28310
28311
28312
28313
28314
28315
28316
28317
28318
28319
28320
28321
28322
28323
28324
28325
28326
28327
28328
28329
28330
28331
28332
28333
28334
28335
28336
28337
28338
28339
28340
28341
28342
28343
28344
28345
28346
28347
28348
28349
28350
28351
28352
28353
28354
28355
28356
28357
28358
28359
28360
28361
28362
28363
28364
28365
28366
28367
28368
28369
28370
28371
28372
28373
28374
28375
28376
28377
28378
28379
28380
28381
28382
28383
28384
28385
28386
28387
28388
28389
28390
28391
28392
28393
28394
28395
28396
28397
28398
28399
28400
28401
28402
28403
28404
28405
28406
28407
28408
28409
28410
28411
28412
28413
28414
28415
28416
28417
28418
28419
28420
28421
28422
28423
28424
28425
28426
28427
28428
28429
28430
28431
28432
28433
28434
28435
28436
28437
28438
28439
28440
28441
28442
28443
28444
28445
28446
28447
28448
28449
28450
28451
28452
28453
28454
28455
28456
28457
28458
28459
28460
28461
28462
28463
28464
28465
28466
28467
28468
28469
28470
28471
28472
28473
28474
28475
28476
28477
28478
28479
28480
28481
28482
28483
28484
28485
28486
28487
28488
28489
28490
28491
28492
28493
28494
28495
28496
28497
28498
28499
28500
28501
28502
28503
28504
28505
28506
28507
28508
28509
28510
28511
28512
28513
28514
28515
28516
28517
28518
28519
28520
28521
28522
28523
28524
28525
28526
28527
28528
28529
28530
28531
28532
28533
28534
28535
28536
28537
28538
28539
28540
28541
28542
28543
28544
28545
28546
28547
28548
28549
28550
28551
28552
28553
28554
28555
28556
28557
28558
28559
28560
28561
28562
28563
28564
28565
28566
28567
28568
28569
28570
28571
28572
28573
28574
28575
28576
28577
28578
28579
28580
28581
28582
28583
28584
28585
28586
28587
28588
28589
28590
28591
28592
28593
28594
28595
28596
28597
28598
28599
28600
28601
28602
28603
28604
28605
28606
28607
28608
28609
28610
28611
28612
28613
28614
28615
28616
28617
28618
28619
28620
28621
28622
28623
28624
28625
28626
28627
28628
28629
28630
28631
28632
28633
28634
28635
28636
28637
28638
28639
28640
28641
28642
28643
28644
28645
28646
28647
28648
28649
28650
28651
28652
28653
28654
28655
28656
28657
28658
28659
28660
28661
28662
28663
28664
28665
28666
28667
28668
28669
28670
28671
28672
28673
28674
28675
28676
28677
28678
28679
28680
28681
28682
28683
28684
28685
28686
28687
28688
28689
28690
28691
28692
28693
28694
28695
28696
28697
28698
28699
28700
28701
28702
28703
28704
28705
28706
28707
28708
28709
28710
28711
28712
28713
28714
28715
28716
28717
28718
28719
28720
28721
28722
28723
28724
28725
28726
28727
28728
28729
28730
28731
28732
28733
28734
28735
28736
28737
28738
28739
28740
28741
28742
28743
28744
28745
28746
28747
28748
28749
28750
28751
28752
28753
28754
28755
28756
28757
28758
28759
28760
28761
28762
28763
28764
28765
28766
28767
28768
28769
28770
28771
28772
28773
28774
28775
28776
28777
28778
28779
28780
28781
28782
28783
28784
28785
28786
28787
28788
28789
28790
28791
28792
28793
28794
28795
28796
28797
28798
28799
28800
28801
28802
28803
28804
28805
28806
28807
28808
28809
28810
28811
28812
28813
28814
28815
28816
28817
28818
28819
28820
28821
28822
28823
28824
28825
28826
28827
28828
28829
28830
28831
28832
28833
28834
28835
28836
28837
28838
28839
28840
28841
28842
28843
28844
28845
28846
28847
28848
28849
28850
28851
28852
28853
28854
28855
28856
28857
28858
28859
28860
28861
28862
28863
28864
28865
28866
28867
28868
28869
28870
28871
28872
28873
28874
28875
28876
28877
28878
28879
28880
28881
28882
28883
28884
28885
28886
28887
28888
28889
28890
28891
28892
28893
28894
28895
28896
28897
28898
28899
28900
28901
28902
28903
28904
28905
28906
28907
28908
28909
28910
28911
28912
28913
28914
28915
28916
28917
28918
28919
28920
28921
28922
28923
28924
28925
28926
28927
28928
28929
28930
28931
28932
28933
28934
28935
28936
28937
28938
28939
28940
28941
28942
28943
28944
28945
28946
28947
28948
28949
28950
28951
28952
28953
28954
28955
28956
28957
28958
28959
28960
28961
28962
28963
28964
28965
28966
28967
28968
28969
28970
28971
28972
28973
28974
28975
28976
28977
28978
28979
28980
28981
28982
28983
28984
28985
28986
28987
28988
28989
28990
28991
28992
28993
28994
28995
28996
28997
28998
28999
29000
29001
29002
29003
29004
29005
29006
29007
29008
29009
29010
29011
29012
29013
29014
29015
29016
29017
29018
29019
29020
29021
29022
29023
29024
29025
29026
29027
29028
29029
29030
29031
29032
29033
29034
29035
29036
29037
29038
29039
29040
29041
29042
29043
29044
29045
29046
29047
29048
29049
29050
29051
29052
29053
29054
29055
29056
29057
29058
29059
29060
29061
29062
29063
29064
29065
29066
29067
29068
29069
29070
29071
29072
29073
29074
29075
29076
29077
29078
29079
29080
29081
29082
29083
29084
29085
29086
29087
29088
29089
29090
29091
29092
29093
29094
29095
29096
29097
29098
29099
29100
29101
29102
29103
29104
29105
29106
29107
29108
29109
29110
29111
29112
29113
29114
29115
29116
29117
29118
29119
29120
29121
29122
29123
29124
29125
29126
29127
29128
29129
29130
29131
29132
29133
29134
29135
29136
29137
29138
29139
29140
29141
29142
29143
29144
29145
29146
29147
29148
29149
29150
29151
29152
29153
29154
29155
29156
29157
29158
29159
29160
29161
29162
29163
29164
29165
29166
29167
29168
29169
29170
29171
29172
29173
29174
29175
29176
29177
29178
29179
29180
29181
29182
29183
29184
29185
29186
29187
29188
29189
29190
29191
29192
29193
29194
29195
29196
29197
29198
29199
29200
29201
29202
29203
29204
29205
29206
29207
29208
29209
29210
29211
29212
29213
29214
29215
29216
29217
29218
29219
29220
29221
29222
29223
29224
29225
29226
29227
29228
29229
29230
29231
29232
29233
29234
29235
29236
29237
29238
29239
29240
29241
29242
29243
29244
29245
29246
29247
29248
29249
29250
29251
29252
29253
29254
29255
29256
29257
29258
29259
29260
29261
29262
29263
29264
29265
29266
29267
29268
29269
29270
29271
29272
29273
29274
29275
29276
29277
29278
29279
29280
29281
29282
29283
29284
29285
29286
29287
29288
29289
29290
29291
29292
29293
29294
29295
29296
29297
29298
29299
29300
29301
29302
29303
29304
29305
29306
29307
29308
29309
29310
29311
29312
29313
29314
29315
29316
29317
29318
29319
29320
29321
29322
29323
29324
29325
29326
29327
29328
29329
29330
29331
29332
29333
29334
29335
29336
29337
29338
29339
29340
29341
29342
29343
29344
29345
29346
29347
29348
29349
29350
29351
29352
29353
29354
29355
29356
29357
29358
29359
29360
29361
29362
29363
29364
29365
29366
29367
29368
29369
29370
29371
29372
29373
29374
29375
29376
29377
29378
29379
29380
29381
29382
29383
29384
29385
29386
29387
29388
29389
29390
29391
29392
29393
29394
29395
29396
29397
29398
29399
29400
29401
29402
29403
29404
29405
29406
29407
29408
29409
29410
29411
29412
29413
29414
29415
29416
29417
29418
29419
29420
29421
29422
29423
29424
29425
29426
29427
29428
29429
29430
29431
29432
29433
29434
29435
29436
29437
29438
29439
29440
29441
29442
29443
29444
29445
29446
29447
29448
29449
29450
29451
29452
29453
29454
29455
29456
29457
29458
29459
29460
29461
29462
29463
29464
29465
29466
29467
29468
29469
29470
29471
29472
29473
29474
29475
29476
29477
29478
29479
29480
29481
29482
29483
29484
29485
29486
29487
29488
29489
29490
29491
29492
29493
29494
29495
29496
29497
29498
29499
29500
29501
29502
29503
29504
29505
29506
29507
29508
29509
29510
29511
29512
29513
29514
29515
29516
29517
29518
29519
29520
29521
29522
29523
29524
29525
29526
29527
29528
29529
29530
29531
29532
29533
29534
29535
29536
29537
29538
29539
29540
29541
29542
29543
29544
29545
29546
29547
29548
29549
29550
29551
29552
29553
29554
29555
29556
29557
29558
29559
29560
29561
29562
29563
29564
29565
29566
29567
29568
29569
29570
29571
29572
29573
29574
29575
29576
29577
29578
29579
29580
29581
29582
29583
29584
29585
29586
29587
29588
29589
29590
29591
29592
29593
29594
29595
29596
29597
29598
29599
29600
29601
29602
29603
29604
29605
29606
29607
29608
29609
29610
29611
29612
29613
29614
29615
29616
29617
29618
29619
29620
29621
29622
29623
29624
29625
29626
29627
29628
29629
29630
29631
29632
29633
29634
29635
29636
29637
29638
29639
29640
29641
29642
29643
29644
29645
29646
29647
29648
29649
29650
29651
29652
29653
29654
29655
29656
29657
29658
29659
29660
29661
29662
29663
29664
29665
29666
29667
29668
29669
29670
29671
29672
29673
29674
29675
29676
29677
29678
29679
29680
29681
29682
29683
29684
29685
29686
29687
29688
29689
29690
29691
29692
29693
29694
29695
29696
29697
29698
29699
29700
29701
29702
29703
29704
29705
29706
29707
29708
29709
29710
29711
29712
29713
29714
29715
29716
29717
29718
29719
29720
29721
29722
29723
29724
29725
29726
29727
29728
29729
29730
29731
29732
29733
29734
29735
29736
29737
29738
29739
29740
29741
29742
29743
29744
29745
29746
29747
29748
29749
29750
29751
29752
29753
29754
29755
29756
29757
29758
29759
29760
29761
29762
29763
29764
29765
29766
29767
29768
29769
29770
29771
29772
29773
29774
29775
29776
29777
29778
29779
29780
29781
29782
29783
29784
29785
29786
29787
29788
29789
29790
29791
29792
29793
29794
29795
29796
29797
29798
29799
29800
29801
29802
29803
29804
29805
29806
29807
29808
29809
29810
29811
29812
29813
29814
29815
29816
29817
29818
29819
29820
29821
29822
29823
29824
29825
29826
29827
29828
29829
29830
29831
29832
29833
29834
29835
29836
29837
29838
29839
29840
29841
29842
29843
29844
29845
29846
29847
29848
29849
29850
29851
29852
29853
29854
29855
29856
29857
29858
29859
29860
29861
29862
29863
29864
29865
29866
29867
29868
29869
29870
29871
29872
29873
29874
29875
29876
29877
29878
29879
29880
29881
29882
29883
29884
29885
29886
29887
29888
29889
29890
29891
29892
29893
29894
29895
29896
29897
29898
29899
29900
29901
29902
29903
29904
29905
29906
29907
29908
29909
29910
29911
29912
29913
29914
29915
29916
29917
29918
29919
29920
29921
29922
29923
29924
29925
29926
29927
29928
29929
29930
29931
29932
29933
29934
29935
29936
29937
29938
29939
29940
29941
29942
29943
29944
29945
29946
29947
29948
29949
29950
29951
29952
29953
29954
29955
29956
29957
29958
29959
29960
29961
29962
29963
29964
29965
29966
29967
29968
29969
29970
29971
29972
29973
29974
29975
29976
29977
29978
29979
29980
29981
29982
29983
29984
29985
29986
29987
29988
29989
29990
29991
29992
29993
29994
29995
29996
29997
29998
29999
30000
30001
30002
30003
30004
30005
30006
30007
30008
30009
30010
30011
30012
30013
30014
30015
30016
30017
30018
30019
30020
30021
30022
30023
30024
30025
30026
30027
30028
30029
30030
30031
30032
30033
30034
30035
30036
30037
30038
30039
30040
30041
30042
30043
30044
30045
30046
30047
30048
30049
30050
30051
30052
30053
30054
30055
30056
30057
30058
30059
30060
30061
30062
30063
30064
30065
30066
30067
30068
30069
30070
30071
30072
30073
30074
30075
30076
30077
30078
30079
30080
30081
30082
30083
30084
30085
30086
30087
30088
30089
30090
30091
30092
30093
30094
30095
30096
30097
30098
30099
30100
30101
30102
30103
30104
30105
30106
30107
30108
30109
30110
30111
30112
30113
30114
30115
30116
30117
30118
30119
30120
30121
30122
30123
30124
30125
30126
30127
30128
30129
30130
30131
30132
30133
30134
30135
30136
30137
30138
30139
30140
30141
30142
30143
30144
30145
30146
30147
30148
30149
30150
30151
30152
30153
30154
30155
30156
30157
30158
30159
30160
30161
30162
30163
30164
30165
30166
30167
30168
30169
30170
30171
30172
30173
30174
30175
30176
30177
30178
30179
30180
30181
30182
30183
30184
30185
30186
30187
30188
30189
30190
30191
30192
30193
30194
30195
30196
30197
30198
30199
30200
30201
30202
30203
30204
30205
30206
30207
30208
30209
30210
30211
30212
30213
30214
30215
30216
30217
30218
30219
30220
30221
30222
30223
30224
30225
30226
30227
30228
30229
30230
30231
30232
30233
30234
30235
30236
30237
30238
30239
30240
30241
30242
30243
30244
30245
30246
30247
30248
30249
30250
30251
30252
30253
30254
30255
30256
30257
30258
30259
30260
30261
30262
30263
30264
30265
30266
30267
30268
30269
30270
30271
30272
30273
30274
30275
30276
30277
30278
30279
30280
30281
30282
30283
30284
30285
30286
30287
30288
30289
30290
30291
30292
30293
30294
30295
30296
30297
30298
30299
30300
30301
30302
30303
30304
30305
30306
30307
30308
30309
30310
30311
30312
30313
30314
30315
30316
30317
30318
30319
30320
30321
30322
30323
30324
30325
30326
30327
30328
30329
30330
30331
30332
30333
30334
30335
30336
30337
30338
30339
30340
30341
30342
30343
30344
30345
30346
30347
30348
30349
30350
30351
30352
30353
30354
30355
30356
30357
30358
30359
30360
30361
30362
30363
30364
30365
30366
30367
30368
30369
30370
30371
30372
30373
30374
30375
30376
30377
30378
30379
30380
30381
30382
30383
30384
30385
30386
30387
30388
30389
30390
30391
30392
30393
30394
30395
30396
30397
30398
30399
30400
30401
30402
30403
30404
30405
30406
30407
30408
30409
30410
30411
30412
30413
30414
30415
30416
30417
30418
30419
30420
30421
30422
30423
30424
30425
30426
30427
30428
30429
30430
30431
30432
30433
30434
30435
30436
30437
30438
30439
30440
30441
30442
30443
30444
30445
30446
30447
30448
30449
30450
30451
30452
30453
30454
30455
30456
30457
30458
30459
30460
30461
30462
30463
30464
30465
30466
30467
30468
30469
30470
30471
30472
30473
30474
30475
30476
30477
30478
30479
30480
30481
30482
30483
30484
30485
30486
30487
30488
30489
30490
30491
30492
30493
30494
30495
30496
30497
30498
30499
30500
30501
30502
30503
30504
30505
30506
30507
30508
30509
30510
30511
30512
30513
30514
30515
30516
30517
30518
30519
30520
30521
30522
30523
30524
30525
30526
30527
30528
30529
30530
30531
30532
30533
30534
30535
30536
30537
30538
30539
30540
30541
30542
30543
30544
30545
30546
30547
30548
30549
30550
30551
30552
30553
30554
30555
30556
30557
30558
30559
30560
30561
30562
30563
30564
30565
30566
30567
30568
30569
30570
30571
30572
30573
30574
30575
30576
30577
30578
30579
30580
30581
30582
30583
30584
30585
30586
30587
30588
30589
30590
30591
30592
30593
30594
30595
30596
30597
30598
30599
30600
30601
30602
30603
30604
30605
30606
30607
30608
30609
30610
30611
30612
30613
30614
30615
30616
30617
30618
30619
30620
30621
30622
30623
30624
30625
30626
30627
30628
30629
30630
30631
30632
30633
30634
30635
30636
30637
30638
30639
30640
30641
30642
30643
30644
30645
30646
30647
30648
30649
30650
30651
30652
30653
30654
30655
30656
30657
30658
30659
30660
30661
30662
30663
30664
30665
30666
30667
30668
30669
30670
30671
30672
30673
30674
30675
30676
30677
30678
30679
30680
30681
30682
30683
30684
30685
30686
30687
30688
30689
30690
30691
30692
30693
30694
30695
30696
30697
30698
30699
30700
30701
30702
30703
30704
30705
30706
30707
30708
30709
30710
30711
30712
30713
30714
30715
30716
30717
30718
30719
30720
30721
30722
30723
30724
30725
30726
30727
30728
30729
30730
30731
30732
30733
30734
30735
30736
30737
30738
30739
30740
30741
30742
30743
30744
30745
30746
30747
30748
30749
30750
30751
30752
30753
30754
30755
30756
30757
30758
30759
30760
30761
30762
30763
30764
30765
30766
30767
30768
30769
30770
30771
30772
30773
30774
30775
30776
30777
30778
30779
30780
30781
30782
30783
30784
30785
30786
30787
30788
30789
30790
30791
30792
30793
30794
30795
30796
30797
30798
30799
30800
30801
30802
30803
30804
30805
30806
30807
30808
30809
30810
30811
30812
30813
30814
30815
30816
30817
30818
30819
30820
30821
30822
30823
30824
30825
30826
30827
30828
30829
30830
30831
30832
30833
30834
30835
30836
30837
30838
30839
30840
30841
30842
30843
30844
30845
30846
30847
30848
30849
30850
30851
30852
30853
30854
30855
30856
30857
30858
30859
30860
30861
30862
30863
30864
30865
30866
30867
30868
30869
30870
30871
30872
30873
30874
30875
30876
30877
30878
30879
30880
30881
30882
30883
30884
30885
30886
30887
30888
30889
30890
30891
30892
30893
30894
30895
30896
30897
30898
30899
30900
30901
30902
30903
30904
30905
30906
30907
30908
30909
30910
30911
30912
30913
30914
30915
30916
30917
30918
30919
30920
30921
30922
30923
30924
30925
30926
30927
30928
30929
30930
30931
30932
30933
30934
30935
30936
30937
30938
30939
30940
30941
30942
30943
30944
30945
30946
30947
30948
30949
30950
30951
30952
30953
30954
30955
30956
30957
30958
30959
30960
30961
30962
30963
30964
30965
30966
30967
30968
30969
30970
30971
30972
30973
30974
30975
30976
30977
30978
30979
30980
30981
30982
30983
30984
30985
30986
30987
30988
30989
30990
30991
30992
30993
30994
30995
30996
30997
30998
30999
31000
31001
31002
31003
31004
31005
31006
31007
31008
31009
31010
31011
31012
31013
31014
31015
31016
31017
31018
31019
31020
31021
31022
31023
31024
31025
31026
31027
31028
31029
31030
31031
31032
31033
31034
31035
31036
31037
31038
31039
31040
31041
31042
31043
31044
31045
31046
31047
31048
31049
31050
31051
31052
31053
31054
31055
31056
31057
31058
31059
31060
31061
31062
31063
31064
31065
31066
31067
31068
31069
31070
31071
31072
31073
31074
31075
31076
31077
31078
31079
31080
31081
31082
31083
31084
31085
31086
31087
31088
31089
31090
31091
31092
31093
31094
31095
31096
31097
31098
31099
31100
31101
31102
31103
31104
31105
31106
31107
31108
31109
31110
31111
31112
31113
31114
31115
31116
31117
31118
31119
31120
31121
31122
31123
31124
31125
31126
31127
31128
31129
31130
31131
31132
31133
31134
31135
31136
31137
31138
31139
31140
31141
31142
31143
31144
31145
31146
31147
31148
31149
31150
31151
31152
31153
31154
31155
31156
31157
31158
31159
31160
31161
31162
31163
31164
31165
31166
31167
31168
31169
31170
31171
31172
31173
31174
31175
31176
31177
31178
31179
31180
31181
31182
31183
31184
31185
31186
31187
31188
31189
31190
31191
31192
31193
31194
31195
31196
31197
31198
31199
31200
31201
31202
31203
31204
31205
31206
31207
31208
31209
31210
31211
31212
31213
31214
31215
31216
31217
31218
31219
31220
31221
31222
31223
31224
31225
31226
31227
31228
31229
31230
31231
31232
31233
31234
31235
31236
31237
31238
31239
31240
31241
31242
31243
31244
31245
31246
31247
31248
31249
31250
31251
31252
31253
31254
31255
31256
31257
31258
31259
31260
31261
31262
31263
31264
31265
31266
31267
31268
31269
31270
31271
31272
31273
31274
31275
31276
31277
31278
31279
31280
31281
31282
31283
31284
31285
31286
31287
31288
31289
31290
31291
31292
31293
31294
31295
31296
31297
31298
31299
31300
31301
31302
31303
31304
31305
31306
31307
31308
31309
31310
31311
31312
31313
31314
31315
31316
31317
31318
31319
31320
31321
31322
31323
31324
31325
31326
31327
31328
31329
31330
31331
31332
31333
31334
31335
31336
31337
31338
31339
31340
31341
31342
31343
31344
31345
31346
31347
31348
31349
31350
31351
31352
31353
31354
31355
31356
31357
31358
31359
31360
31361
31362
31363
31364
31365
31366
31367
31368
31369
31370
31371
31372
31373
31374
31375
31376
31377
31378
31379
31380
31381
31382
31383
31384
31385
31386
31387
31388
31389
31390
31391
31392
31393
31394
31395
31396
31397
31398
31399
31400
31401
31402
31403
31404
31405
31406
31407
31408
31409
31410
31411
31412
31413
31414
31415
31416
31417
31418
31419
31420
31421
31422
31423
31424
31425
31426
31427
31428
31429
31430
31431
31432
31433
31434
31435
31436
31437
31438
31439
31440
31441
31442
31443
31444
31445
31446
31447
31448
31449
31450
31451
31452
31453
31454
31455
31456
31457
31458
31459
31460
31461
31462
31463
31464
31465
31466
31467
31468
31469
31470
31471
31472
31473
31474
31475
31476
31477
31478
31479
31480
31481
31482
31483
31484
31485
31486
31487
31488
31489
31490
31491
31492
31493
31494
31495
31496
31497
31498
31499
31500
31501
31502
31503
31504
31505
31506
31507
31508
31509
31510
31511
31512
31513
31514
31515
31516
31517
31518
31519
31520
31521
31522
31523
31524
31525
31526
31527
31528
31529
31530
31531
31532
31533
31534
31535
31536
31537
31538
31539
31540
31541
31542
31543
31544
31545
31546
31547
31548
31549
31550
31551
31552
31553
31554
31555
31556
31557
31558
31559
31560
31561
31562
31563
31564
31565
31566
31567
31568
31569
31570
31571
31572
31573
31574
31575
31576
31577
31578
31579
31580
31581
31582
31583
31584
31585
31586
31587
31588
31589
31590
31591
31592
31593
31594
31595
31596
31597
31598
31599
31600
31601
31602
31603
31604
31605
31606
31607
31608
31609
31610
31611
31612
31613
31614
31615
31616
31617
31618
31619
31620
31621
31622
31623
31624
31625
31626
31627
31628
31629
31630
31631
31632
31633
31634
31635
31636
31637
31638
31639
31640
31641
31642
31643
31644
31645
31646
31647
31648
31649
31650
31651
31652
31653
31654
31655
31656
31657
31658
31659
31660
31661
31662
31663
31664
31665
31666
31667
31668
31669
31670
31671
31672
31673
31674
31675
31676
31677
31678
31679
31680
31681
31682
31683
31684
31685
31686
31687
31688
31689
31690
31691
31692
31693
31694
31695
31696
31697
31698
31699
31700
31701
31702
31703
31704
31705
31706
31707
31708
31709
31710
31711
31712
31713
31714
31715
31716
31717
31718
31719
31720
31721
31722
31723
31724
31725
31726
31727
31728
31729
31730
31731
31732
31733
31734
31735
31736
31737
31738
31739
31740
31741
31742
31743
31744
31745
31746
31747
31748
31749
31750
31751
31752
31753
31754
31755
31756
31757
31758
31759
31760
31761
31762
31763
31764
31765
31766
31767
31768
31769
31770
31771
31772
31773
31774
31775
31776
31777
31778
31779
31780
31781
31782
31783
31784
31785
31786
31787
31788
31789
31790
31791
31792
31793
31794
31795
31796
31797
31798
31799
31800
31801
31802
31803
31804
31805
31806
31807
31808
31809
31810
31811
31812
31813
31814
31815
31816
31817
31818
31819
31820
31821
31822
31823
31824
31825
31826
31827
31828
31829
31830
31831
31832
31833
31834
31835
31836
31837
31838
31839
31840
31841
31842
31843
31844
31845
31846
31847
31848
31849
31850
31851
31852
31853
31854
31855
31856
31857
31858
31859
31860
31861
31862
31863
31864
31865
31866
31867
31868
31869
31870
31871
31872
31873
31874
31875
31876
31877
31878
31879
31880
31881
31882
31883
31884
31885
31886
31887
31888
31889
31890
31891
31892
31893
31894
31895
31896
31897
31898
31899
31900
31901
31902
31903
31904
31905
31906
31907
31908
31909
31910
31911
31912
31913
31914
31915
31916
31917
31918
31919
31920
31921
31922
31923
31924
31925
31926
31927
31928
31929
31930
31931
31932
31933
31934
31935
31936
31937
31938
31939
31940
31941
31942
31943
31944
31945
31946
31947
31948
31949
31950
31951
31952
31953
31954
31955
31956
31957
31958
31959
31960
31961
31962
31963
31964
31965
31966
31967
31968
31969
31970
31971
31972
31973
31974
31975
31976
31977
31978
31979
31980
31981
31982
31983
31984
31985
31986
31987
31988
31989
31990
31991
31992
31993
31994
31995
31996
31997
31998
31999
32000
32001
32002
32003
32004
32005
32006
32007
32008
32009
32010
32011
32012
32013
32014
32015
32016
32017
32018
32019
32020
32021
32022
32023
32024
32025
32026
32027
32028
32029
32030
32031
32032
32033
32034
32035
32036
32037
32038
32039
32040
32041
32042
32043
32044
32045
32046
32047
32048
32049
32050
32051
32052
32053
32054
32055
32056
32057
32058
32059
32060
32061
32062
32063
32064
32065
32066
32067
32068
32069
32070
32071
32072
32073
32074
32075
32076
32077
32078
32079
32080
32081
32082
32083
32084
32085
32086
32087
32088
32089
32090
32091
32092
32093
32094
32095
32096
32097
32098
32099
32100
32101
32102
32103
32104
32105
32106
32107
32108
32109
32110
32111
32112
32113
32114
32115
32116
32117
32118
32119
32120
32121
32122
32123
32124
32125
32126
32127
32128
32129
32130
32131
32132
32133
32134
32135
32136
32137
32138
32139
32140
32141
32142
32143
32144
32145
32146
32147
32148
32149
32150
32151
32152
32153
32154
32155
32156
32157
32158
32159
32160
32161
32162
32163
32164
32165
32166
32167
32168
32169
32170
32171
32172
32173
32174
32175
32176
32177
32178
32179
32180
32181
32182
32183
32184
32185
32186
32187
32188
32189
32190
32191
32192
32193
32194
32195
32196
32197
32198
32199
32200
32201
32202
32203
32204
32205
32206
32207
32208
32209
32210
32211
32212
32213
32214
32215
32216
32217
32218
32219
32220
32221
32222
32223
32224
32225
32226
32227
32228
32229
32230
32231
32232
32233
32234
32235
32236
32237
32238
32239
32240
32241
32242
32243
32244
32245
32246
32247
32248
32249
32250
32251
32252
32253
32254
32255
32256
32257
32258
32259
32260
32261
32262
32263
32264
32265
32266
32267
32268
32269
32270
32271
32272
32273
32274
32275
32276
32277
32278
32279
32280
32281
32282
32283
32284
32285
32286
32287
32288
32289
32290
32291
32292
32293
32294
32295
32296
32297
32298
32299
32300
32301
32302
32303
32304
32305
32306
32307
32308
32309
32310
32311
32312
32313
32314
32315
32316
32317
32318
32319
32320
32321
32322
32323
32324
32325
32326
32327
32328
32329
32330
32331
32332
32333
32334
32335
32336
32337
32338
32339
32340
32341
32342
32343
32344
32345
32346
32347
32348
32349
32350
32351
32352
32353
32354
32355
32356
32357
32358
32359
32360
32361
32362
32363
32364
32365
32366
32367
32368
32369
32370
32371
32372
32373
32374
32375
32376
32377
32378
32379
32380
32381
32382
32383
32384
32385
32386
32387
32388
32389
32390
32391
32392
32393
32394
32395
32396
32397
32398
32399
32400
32401
32402
32403
32404
32405
32406
32407
32408
32409
32410
32411
32412
32413
32414
32415
32416
32417
32418
32419
32420
32421
32422
32423
32424
32425
32426
32427
32428
32429
32430
32431
32432
32433
32434
32435
32436
32437
32438
32439
32440
32441
32442
32443
32444
32445
32446
32447
32448
32449
32450
32451
32452
32453
32454
32455
32456
32457
32458
32459
32460
32461
32462
32463
32464
32465
32466
32467
32468
32469
32470
32471
32472
32473
32474
32475
32476
32477
32478
32479
32480
32481
32482
32483
32484
32485
32486
32487
32488
32489
32490
32491
32492
32493
32494
32495
32496
32497
32498
32499
32500
32501
32502
32503
32504
32505
32506
32507
32508
32509
32510
32511
32512
32513
32514
32515
32516
32517
32518
32519
32520
32521
32522
32523
32524
32525
32526
32527
32528
32529
32530
32531
32532
32533
32534
32535
32536
32537
32538
32539
32540
32541
32542
32543
32544
32545
32546
32547
32548
32549
32550
32551
32552
32553
32554
32555
32556
32557
32558
32559
32560
32561
32562
32563
32564
32565
32566
32567
32568
32569
32570
32571
32572
32573
32574
32575
32576
32577
32578
32579
32580
32581
32582
32583
32584
32585
32586
32587
32588
32589
32590
32591
32592
32593
32594
32595
32596
32597
32598
32599
32600
32601
32602
32603
32604
32605
32606
32607
32608
32609
32610
32611
32612
32613
32614
32615
32616
32617
32618
32619
32620
32621
32622
32623
32624
32625
32626
32627
32628
32629
32630
32631
32632
32633
32634
32635
32636
32637
32638
32639
32640
32641
32642
32643
32644
32645
32646
32647
32648
32649
32650
32651
32652
32653
32654
32655
32656
32657
32658
32659
32660
32661
32662
32663
32664
32665
32666
32667
32668
32669
32670
32671
32672
32673
32674
32675
32676
32677
32678
32679
32680
32681
32682
32683
32684
32685
32686
32687
32688
32689
32690
32691
32692
32693
32694
32695
32696
32697
32698
32699
32700
32701
32702
32703
32704
32705
32706
32707
32708
32709
32710
32711
32712
32713
32714
32715
32716
32717
32718
32719
32720
32721
32722
32723
32724
32725
32726
32727
32728
32729
32730
32731
32732
32733
32734
32735
32736
32737
32738
32739
32740
32741
32742
32743
32744
32745
32746
32747
32748
32749
32750
32751
32752
32753
32754
32755
32756
32757
32758
32759
32760
32761
32762
32763
32764
32765
32766
32767
32768
32769
32770
32771
32772
32773
32774
32775
32776
32777
32778
32779
32780
32781
32782
32783
32784
32785
32786
32787
32788
32789
32790
32791
32792
32793
32794
32795
32796
32797
32798
32799
32800
32801
32802
32803
32804
32805
32806
32807
32808
32809
32810
32811
32812
32813
32814
32815
32816
32817
32818
32819
32820
32821
32822
32823
32824
32825
32826
32827
32828
32829
32830
32831
32832
32833
32834
32835
32836
32837
32838
32839
32840
32841
32842
32843
32844
32845
32846
32847
32848
32849
32850
32851
32852
32853
32854
32855
32856
32857
32858
32859
32860
32861
32862
32863
32864
32865
32866
32867
32868
32869
32870
32871
32872
32873
32874
32875
32876
32877
32878
32879
32880
32881
32882
32883
32884
32885
32886
32887
32888
32889
32890
32891
32892
32893
32894
32895
32896
32897
32898
32899
32900
32901
32902
32903
32904
32905
32906
32907
32908
32909
32910
32911
32912
32913
32914
32915
32916
32917
32918
32919
32920
32921
32922
32923
32924
32925
32926
32927
32928
32929
32930
32931
32932
32933
32934
32935
32936
32937
32938
32939
32940
32941
32942
32943
32944
32945
32946
32947
32948
32949
32950
32951
32952
32953
32954
32955
32956
32957
32958
32959
32960
32961
32962
32963
32964
32965
32966
32967
32968
32969
32970
32971
32972
32973
32974
32975
32976
32977
32978
32979
32980
32981
32982
32983
32984
32985
32986
32987
32988
32989
32990
32991
32992
32993
32994
32995
32996
32997
32998
32999
33000
33001
33002
33003
33004
33005
33006
33007
33008
33009
33010
33011
33012
33013
33014
33015
33016
33017
33018
33019
33020
33021
33022
33023
33024
33025
33026
33027
33028
33029
33030
33031
33032
33033
33034
33035
33036
33037
33038
33039
33040
33041
33042
33043
33044
33045
33046
33047
33048
33049
33050
33051
33052
33053
33054
33055
33056
33057
33058
33059
33060
33061
33062
33063
33064
33065
33066
33067
33068
33069
33070
33071
33072
33073
33074
33075
33076
33077
33078
33079
33080
33081
33082
33083
33084
33085
33086
33087
33088
33089
33090
33091
33092
33093
33094
33095
33096
33097
33098
33099
33100
33101
33102
33103
33104
33105
33106
33107
33108
33109
33110
33111
33112
33113
33114
33115
33116
33117
33118
33119
33120
33121
33122
33123
33124
33125
33126
33127
33128
33129
33130
33131
33132
33133
33134
33135
33136
33137
33138
33139
33140
33141
33142
33143
33144
33145
33146
33147
33148
33149
33150
33151
33152
33153
33154
33155
33156
33157
33158
33159
33160
33161
33162
33163
33164
33165
33166
33167
33168
33169
33170
33171
33172
33173
33174
33175
33176
33177
33178
33179
33180
33181
33182
33183
33184
33185
33186
33187
33188
33189
33190
33191
33192
33193
33194
33195
33196
33197
33198
33199
33200
33201
33202
33203
33204
33205
33206
33207
33208
33209
33210
33211
33212
33213
33214
33215
33216
33217
33218
33219
33220
33221
33222
33223
33224
33225
33226
33227
33228
33229
33230
33231
33232
33233
33234
33235
33236
33237
33238
33239
33240
33241
33242
33243
33244
33245
33246
33247
33248
33249
33250
33251
33252
33253
33254
33255
33256
33257
33258
33259
33260
33261
33262
33263
33264
33265
33266
33267
33268
33269
33270
33271
33272
33273
33274
33275
33276
33277
33278
33279
33280
33281
33282
33283
33284
33285
33286
33287
33288
33289
33290
33291
33292
33293
33294
33295
33296
33297
33298
33299
33300
33301
33302
33303
33304
33305
33306
33307
33308
33309
33310
33311
33312
33313
33314
33315
33316
33317
33318
33319
33320
33321
33322
33323
33324
33325
33326
33327
33328
33329
33330
33331
33332
33333
33334
33335
33336
33337
33338
33339
33340
33341
33342
33343
33344
33345
33346
33347
33348
33349
33350
33351
33352
33353
33354
33355
33356
33357
33358
33359
33360
33361
33362
33363
33364
33365
33366
33367
33368
33369
33370
33371
33372
33373
33374
33375
33376
33377
33378
33379
33380
33381
33382
33383
33384
33385
33386
33387
33388
33389
33390
33391
33392
33393
33394
33395
33396
33397
33398
33399
33400
33401
33402
33403
33404
33405
33406
33407
33408
33409
33410
33411
33412
33413
33414
33415
33416
33417
33418
33419
33420
33421
33422
33423
33424
33425
33426
33427
33428
33429
33430
33431
33432
33433
33434
33435
33436
33437
33438
33439
33440
33441
33442
33443
33444
33445
33446
33447
33448
33449
33450
33451
33452
33453
33454
33455
33456
33457
33458
33459
33460
33461
33462
33463
33464
33465
33466
33467
33468
33469
33470
33471
33472
33473
33474
33475
33476
33477
33478
33479
33480
33481
33482
33483
33484
33485
33486
33487
33488
33489
33490
33491
33492
33493
33494
33495
33496
33497
33498
33499
33500
33501
33502
33503
33504
33505
33506
33507
33508
33509
33510
33511
33512
33513
33514
33515
33516
33517
33518
33519
33520
33521
33522
33523
33524
33525
33526
33527
33528
33529
33530
33531
33532
33533
33534
33535
33536
33537
33538
33539
33540
33541
33542
33543
33544
33545
33546
33547
33548
33549
33550
33551
33552
33553
33554
33555
33556
33557
33558
33559
33560
33561
33562
33563
33564
33565
33566
33567
33568
33569
33570
33571
33572
33573
33574
33575
33576
33577
33578
33579
33580
33581
33582
33583
33584
33585
33586
33587
33588
33589
33590
33591
33592
33593
33594
33595
33596
33597
33598
33599
33600
33601
33602
33603
33604
33605
33606
33607
33608
33609
33610
33611
33612
33613
33614
33615
33616
33617
33618
33619
33620
33621
33622
33623
33624
33625
33626
33627
33628
33629
33630
33631
33632
33633
33634
33635
33636
33637
33638
33639
33640
33641
33642
33643
33644
33645
33646
33647
33648
33649
33650
33651
33652
33653
33654
33655
33656
33657
33658
33659
33660
33661
33662
33663
33664
33665
33666
33667
33668
33669
33670
33671
33672
33673
33674
33675
33676
33677
33678
33679
33680
33681
33682
33683
33684
33685
33686
33687
33688
33689
33690
33691
33692
33693
33694
33695
33696
33697
33698
33699
33700
33701
33702
33703
33704
33705
33706
33707
33708
33709
33710
33711
33712
33713
33714
33715
33716
33717
33718
33719
33720
33721
33722
33723
33724
33725
33726
33727
33728
33729
33730
33731
33732
33733
33734
33735
33736
33737
33738
33739
33740
33741
33742
33743
33744
33745
33746
33747
33748
33749
33750
33751
33752
33753
33754
33755
33756
33757
33758
33759
33760
33761
33762
33763
33764
33765
33766
33767
33768
33769
33770
33771
33772
33773
33774
33775
33776
33777
33778
33779
33780
33781
33782
33783
33784
33785
33786
33787
33788
33789
33790
33791
33792
33793
33794
33795
33796
33797
33798
33799
33800
33801
33802
33803
33804
33805
33806
33807
33808
33809
33810
33811
33812
33813
33814
33815
33816
33817
33818
33819
33820
33821
33822
33823
33824
33825
33826
33827
33828
33829
33830
33831
33832
33833
33834
33835
33836
33837
33838
33839
33840
33841
33842
33843
33844
33845
33846
33847
33848
33849
33850
33851
33852
33853
33854
33855
33856
33857
33858
33859
33860
33861
33862
33863
33864
33865
33866
33867
33868
33869
33870
33871
33872
33873
33874
33875
33876
33877
33878
33879
33880
33881
33882
33883
33884
33885
33886
33887
33888
33889
33890
33891
33892
33893
33894
33895
33896
33897
33898
33899
33900
33901
33902
33903
33904
33905
33906
33907
33908
33909
33910
33911
33912
33913
33914
33915
33916
33917
33918
33919
33920
33921
33922
33923
33924
33925
33926
33927
33928
33929
33930
33931
33932
33933
33934
33935
33936
33937
33938
33939
33940
33941
33942
33943
33944
33945
33946
33947
33948
33949
33950
33951
33952
33953
33954
33955
33956
33957
33958
33959
33960
33961
33962
33963
33964
33965
33966
33967
33968
33969
33970
33971
33972
33973
33974
33975
33976
33977
33978
33979
33980
33981
33982
33983
33984
33985
33986
33987
33988
33989
33990
33991
33992
33993
33994
33995
33996
33997
33998
33999
34000
34001
34002
34003
34004
34005
34006
34007
34008
34009
34010
34011
34012
34013
34014
34015
34016
34017
34018
34019
34020
34021
34022
34023
34024
34025
34026
34027
34028
34029
34030
34031
34032
34033
34034
34035
34036
34037
34038
34039
34040
34041
34042
34043
34044
34045
34046
34047
34048
34049
34050
34051
34052
34053
34054
34055
34056
34057
34058
34059
34060
34061
34062
34063
34064
34065
34066
34067
34068
34069
34070
34071
34072
34073
34074
34075
34076
34077
34078
34079
34080
34081
34082
34083
34084
34085
34086
34087
34088
34089
34090
34091
34092
34093
34094
34095
34096
34097
34098
34099
34100
34101
34102
34103
34104
34105
34106
34107
34108
34109
34110
34111
34112
34113
34114
34115
34116
34117
34118
34119
34120
34121
34122
34123
34124
34125
34126
34127
34128
34129
34130
34131
34132
34133
34134
34135
34136
34137
34138
34139
34140
34141
34142
34143
34144
34145
34146
34147
34148
34149
34150
34151
34152
34153
34154
34155
34156
34157
34158
34159
34160
34161
34162
34163
34164
34165
34166
34167
34168
34169
34170
34171
34172
34173
34174
34175
34176
34177
34178
34179
34180
34181
34182
34183
34184
34185
34186
34187
34188
34189
34190
34191
34192
34193
34194
34195
34196
34197
34198
34199
34200
34201
34202
34203
34204
34205
34206
34207
34208
34209
34210
34211
34212
34213
34214
34215
34216
34217
34218
34219
34220
34221
34222
34223
34224
34225
34226
34227
34228
34229
34230
34231
34232
34233
34234
34235
34236
34237
34238
34239
34240
34241
34242
34243
34244
34245
34246
34247
34248
34249
34250
34251
34252
34253
34254
34255
34256
34257
34258
34259
34260
34261
34262
34263
34264
34265
34266
34267
34268
34269
34270
34271
34272
34273
34274
34275
34276
34277
34278
34279
34280
34281
34282
34283
34284
34285
34286
34287
34288
34289
34290
34291
34292
34293
34294
34295
34296
34297
34298
34299
34300
34301
34302
34303
34304
34305
34306
34307
34308
34309
34310
34311
34312
34313
34314
34315
34316
34317
34318
34319
34320
34321
34322
34323
34324
34325
34326
34327
34328
34329
34330
34331
34332
34333
34334
34335
34336
34337
34338
34339
34340
34341
34342
34343
34344
34345
34346
34347
34348
34349
34350
34351
34352
34353
34354
34355
34356
34357
34358
34359
34360
34361
34362
34363
34364
34365
34366
34367
34368
34369
34370
34371
34372
34373
34374
34375
34376
34377
34378
34379
34380
34381
34382
34383
34384
34385
34386
34387
34388
34389
34390
34391
34392
34393
34394
34395
34396
34397
34398
34399
34400
34401
34402
34403
34404
34405
34406
34407
34408
34409
34410
34411
34412
34413
34414
34415
34416
34417
34418
34419
34420
34421
34422
34423
34424
34425
34426
34427
34428
34429
34430
34431
34432
34433
34434
34435
34436
34437
34438
34439
34440
34441
34442
34443
34444
34445
34446
34447
34448
34449
34450
34451
34452
34453
34454
34455
34456
34457
34458
34459
34460
34461
34462
34463
34464
34465
34466
34467
34468
34469
34470
34471
34472
34473
34474
34475
34476
34477
34478
34479
34480
34481
34482
34483
34484
34485
34486
34487
34488
34489
34490
34491
34492
34493
34494
34495
34496
34497
34498
34499
34500
34501
34502
34503
34504
34505
34506
34507
34508
34509
34510
34511
34512
34513
34514
34515
34516
34517
34518
34519
34520
34521
34522
34523
34524
34525
34526
34527
34528
34529
34530
34531
34532
34533
34534
34535
34536
34537
34538
34539
34540
34541
34542
34543
34544
34545
34546
34547
34548
34549
34550
34551
34552
34553
34554
34555
34556
34557
34558
34559
34560
34561
34562
34563
34564
34565
34566
34567
34568
34569
34570
34571
34572
34573
34574
34575
34576
34577
34578
34579
34580
34581
34582
34583
34584
34585
34586
34587
34588
34589
34590
34591
34592
34593
34594
34595
34596
34597
34598
34599
34600
34601
34602
34603
34604
34605
34606
34607
34608
34609
34610
34611
34612
34613
34614
34615
34616
34617
34618
34619
34620
34621
34622
34623
34624
34625
34626
34627
34628
34629
34630
34631
34632
34633
34634
34635
34636
34637
34638
34639
34640
34641
34642
34643
34644
34645
34646
34647
34648
34649
34650
34651
34652
34653
34654
34655
34656
34657
34658
34659
34660
34661
34662
34663
34664
34665
34666
34667
34668
34669
34670
34671
34672
34673
34674
34675
34676
34677
34678
34679
34680
34681
34682
34683
34684
34685
34686
34687
34688
34689
34690
34691
34692
34693
34694
34695
34696
34697
34698
34699
34700
34701
34702
34703
34704
34705
34706
34707
34708
34709
34710
34711
34712
34713
34714
34715
34716
34717
34718
34719
34720
34721
34722
34723
34724
34725
34726
34727
34728
34729
34730
34731
34732
34733
34734
34735
34736
34737
34738
34739
34740
34741
34742
34743
34744
34745
34746
34747
34748
34749
34750
34751
34752
34753
34754
34755
34756
34757
34758
34759
34760
34761
34762
34763
34764
34765
34766
34767
34768
34769
34770
34771
34772
34773
34774
34775
34776
34777
34778
34779
34780
34781
34782
34783
34784
34785
34786
34787
34788
34789
34790
34791
34792
34793
34794
34795
34796
34797
34798
34799
34800
34801
34802
34803
34804
34805
34806
34807
34808
34809
34810
34811
34812
34813
34814
34815
34816
34817
34818
34819
34820
34821
34822
34823
34824
34825
34826
34827
34828
34829
34830
34831
34832
34833
34834
34835
34836
34837
34838
34839
34840
34841
34842
34843
34844
34845
34846
34847
34848
34849
34850
34851
34852
34853
34854
34855
34856
34857
34858
34859
34860
34861
34862
34863
34864
34865
34866
34867
34868
34869
34870
34871
34872
34873
34874
34875
34876
34877
34878
34879
34880
34881
34882
34883
34884
34885
34886
34887
34888
34889
34890
34891
34892
34893
34894
34895
34896
34897
34898
34899
34900
34901
34902
34903
34904
34905
34906
34907
34908
34909
34910
34911
34912
34913
34914
34915
34916
34917
34918
34919
34920
34921
34922
34923
34924
34925
34926
34927
34928
34929
34930
34931
34932
34933
34934
34935
34936
34937
34938
34939
34940
34941
34942
34943
34944
34945
34946
34947
34948
34949
34950
34951
34952
34953
34954
34955
34956
34957
34958
34959
34960
34961
34962
34963
34964
34965
34966
34967
34968
34969
34970
34971
34972
34973
34974
34975
34976
34977
34978
34979
34980
34981
34982
34983
34984
34985
34986
34987
34988
34989
34990
34991
34992
34993
34994
34995
34996
34997
34998
34999
35000
35001
35002
35003
35004
35005
35006
35007
35008
35009
35010
35011
35012
35013
35014
35015
35016
35017
35018
35019
35020
35021
35022
35023
35024
35025
35026
35027
35028
35029
35030
35031
35032
35033
35034
35035
35036
35037
35038
35039
35040
35041
35042
35043
35044
35045
35046
35047
35048
35049
35050
35051
35052
35053
35054
35055
35056
35057
35058
35059
35060
35061
35062
35063
35064
35065
35066
35067
35068
35069
35070
35071
35072
35073
35074
35075
35076
35077
35078
35079
35080
35081
35082
35083
35084
35085
35086
35087
35088
35089
35090
35091
35092
35093
35094
35095
35096
35097
35098
35099
35100
35101
35102
35103
35104
35105
35106
35107
35108
35109
35110
35111
35112
35113
35114
35115
35116
35117
35118
35119
35120
35121
35122
35123
35124
35125
35126
35127
35128
35129
35130
35131
35132
35133
35134
35135
35136
35137
35138
35139
35140
35141
35142
35143
35144
35145
35146
35147
35148
35149
35150
35151
35152
35153
35154
35155
35156
35157
35158
35159
35160
35161
35162
35163
35164
35165
35166
35167
35168
35169
35170
35171
35172
35173
35174
35175
35176
35177
35178
35179
35180
35181
35182
35183
35184
35185
35186
35187
35188
35189
35190
35191
35192
35193
35194
35195
35196
35197
35198
35199
35200
35201
35202
35203
35204
35205
35206
35207
35208
35209
35210
35211
35212
35213
35214
35215
35216
35217
35218
35219
35220
35221
35222
35223
35224
35225
35226
35227
35228
35229
35230
35231
35232
35233
35234
35235
35236
35237
35238
35239
35240
35241
35242
35243
35244
35245
35246
35247
35248
35249
35250
35251
35252
35253
35254
35255
35256
35257
35258
35259
35260
35261
35262
35263
35264
35265
35266
35267
35268
35269
35270
35271
35272
35273
35274
35275
35276
35277
35278
35279
35280
35281
35282
35283
35284
35285
35286
35287
35288
35289
35290
35291
35292
35293
35294
35295
35296
35297
35298
35299
35300
35301
35302
35303
35304
35305
35306
35307
35308
35309
35310
35311
35312
35313
35314
35315
35316
35317
35318
35319
35320
35321
35322
35323
35324
35325
35326
35327
35328
35329
35330
35331
35332
35333
35334
35335
35336
35337
35338
35339
35340
35341
35342
35343
35344
35345
35346
35347
35348
35349
35350
35351
35352
35353
35354
35355
35356
35357
35358
35359
35360
35361
35362
35363
35364
35365
35366
35367
35368
35369
35370
35371
35372
35373
35374
35375
35376
35377
35378
35379
35380
35381
35382
35383
35384
35385
35386
35387
35388
35389
35390
35391
35392
35393
35394
35395
35396
35397
35398
35399
35400
35401
35402
35403
35404
35405
35406
35407
35408
35409
35410
35411
35412
35413
35414
35415
35416
35417
35418
35419
35420
35421
35422
35423
35424
35425
35426
35427
35428
35429
35430
35431
35432
35433
35434
35435
35436
35437
35438
35439
35440
35441
35442
35443
35444
35445
35446
35447
35448
35449
35450
35451
35452
35453
35454
35455
35456
35457
35458
35459
35460
35461
35462
35463
35464
35465
35466
35467
35468
35469
35470
35471
35472
35473
35474
35475
35476
35477
35478
35479
35480
35481
35482
35483
35484
35485
35486
35487
35488
35489
35490
35491
35492
35493
35494
35495
35496
35497
35498
35499
35500
35501
35502
35503
35504
35505
35506
35507
35508
35509
35510
35511
35512
35513
35514
35515
35516
35517
35518
35519
35520
35521
35522
35523
35524
35525
35526
35527
35528
35529
35530
35531
35532
35533
35534
35535
35536
35537
35538
35539
35540
35541
35542
35543
35544
35545
35546
35547
35548
35549
35550
35551
35552
35553
35554
35555
35556
35557
35558
35559
35560
35561
35562
35563
35564
35565
35566
35567
35568
35569
35570
35571
35572
35573
35574
35575
35576
35577
35578
35579
35580
35581
35582
35583
35584
35585
35586
35587
35588
35589
35590
35591
35592
35593
35594
35595
35596
35597
35598
35599
35600
35601
35602
35603
35604
35605
35606
35607
35608
35609
35610
35611
35612
35613
35614
35615
35616
35617
35618
35619
35620
35621
35622
35623
35624
35625
35626
35627
35628
35629
35630
35631
35632
35633
35634
35635
35636
35637
35638
35639
35640
35641
35642
35643
35644
35645
35646
35647
35648
35649
35650
35651
35652
35653
35654
35655
35656
35657
35658
35659
35660
35661
35662
35663
35664
35665
35666
35667
35668
35669
35670
35671
35672
35673
35674
35675
35676
35677
35678
35679
35680
35681
35682
35683
35684
35685
35686
35687
35688
35689
35690
35691
35692
35693
35694
35695
35696
35697
35698
35699
35700
35701
35702
35703
35704
35705
35706
35707
35708
35709
35710
35711
35712
35713
35714
35715
35716
35717
35718
35719
35720
35721
35722
35723
35724
35725
35726
35727
35728
35729
35730
35731
35732
35733
35734
35735
35736
35737
35738
35739
35740
35741
35742
35743
35744
35745
35746
35747
35748
35749
35750
35751
35752
35753
35754
35755
35756
35757
35758
35759
35760
35761
35762
35763
35764
35765
35766
35767
35768
35769
35770
35771
35772
35773
35774
35775
35776
35777
35778
35779
35780
35781
35782
35783
35784
35785
35786
35787
35788
35789
35790
35791
35792
35793
35794
35795
35796
35797
35798
35799
35800
35801
35802
35803
35804
35805
35806
35807
35808
35809
35810
35811
35812
35813
35814
35815
35816
35817
35818
35819
35820
35821
35822
35823
35824
35825
35826
35827
35828
35829
35830
35831
35832
35833
35834
35835
35836
35837
35838
35839
35840
35841
35842
35843
35844
35845
35846
35847
35848
35849
35850
35851
35852
35853
35854
35855
35856
35857
35858
35859
35860
35861
35862
35863
35864
35865
35866
35867
35868
35869
35870
35871
35872
35873
35874
35875
35876
35877
35878
35879
35880
35881
35882
35883
35884
35885
35886
35887
35888
35889
35890
35891
35892
35893
35894
35895
35896
35897
35898
35899
35900
35901
35902
35903
35904
35905
35906
35907
35908
35909
35910
35911
35912
35913
35914
35915
35916
35917
35918
35919
35920
35921
35922
35923
35924
35925
35926
35927
35928
35929
35930
35931
35932
35933
35934
35935
35936
35937
35938
35939
35940
35941
35942
35943
35944
35945
35946
35947
35948
35949
35950
35951
35952
35953
35954
35955
35956
35957
35958
35959
35960
35961
35962
35963
35964
35965
35966
35967
35968
35969
35970
35971
35972
35973
35974
35975
35976
35977
35978
35979
35980
35981
35982
35983
35984
35985
35986
35987
35988
35989
35990
35991
35992
35993
35994
35995
35996
35997
35998
35999
36000
36001
36002
36003
36004
36005
36006
36007
36008
36009
36010
36011
36012
36013
36014
36015
36016
36017
36018
36019
36020
36021
36022
36023
36024
36025
36026
36027
36028
36029
36030
36031
36032
36033
36034
36035
36036
36037
36038
36039
36040
36041
36042
36043
36044
36045
36046
36047
36048
36049
36050
36051
36052
36053
36054
36055
36056
36057
36058
36059
36060
36061
36062
36063
36064
36065
36066
36067
36068
36069
36070
36071
36072
36073
36074
36075
36076
36077
36078
36079
36080
36081
36082
36083
36084
36085
36086
36087
36088
36089
36090
36091
36092
36093
36094
36095
36096
36097
36098
36099
36100
36101
36102
36103
36104
36105
36106
36107
36108
36109
36110
36111
36112
36113
36114
36115
36116
36117
36118
36119
36120
36121
36122
36123
36124
36125
36126
36127
36128
36129
36130
36131
36132
36133
36134
36135
36136
36137
36138
36139
36140
36141
36142
36143
36144
36145
36146
36147
36148
36149
36150
36151
36152
36153
36154
36155
36156
36157
36158
36159
36160
36161
36162
36163
36164
36165
36166
36167
36168
36169
36170
36171
36172
36173
36174
36175
36176
36177
36178
36179
36180
36181
36182
36183
36184
36185
36186
36187
36188
36189
36190
36191
36192
36193
36194
36195
36196
36197
36198
36199
36200
36201
36202
36203
36204
36205
36206
36207
36208
36209
36210
36211
36212
36213
36214
36215
36216
36217
36218
36219
36220
36221
36222
36223
36224
36225
36226
36227
36228
36229
36230
36231
36232
36233
36234
36235
36236
36237
36238
36239
36240
36241
36242
36243
36244
36245
36246
36247
36248
36249
36250
36251
36252
36253
36254
36255
36256
36257
36258
36259
36260
36261
36262
36263
36264
36265
36266
36267
36268
36269
36270
36271
36272
36273
36274
36275
36276
36277
36278
36279
36280
36281
36282
36283
36284
36285
36286
36287
36288
36289
36290
36291
36292
36293
36294
36295
36296
36297
36298
36299
36300
36301
36302
36303
36304
36305
36306
36307
36308
36309
36310
36311
36312
36313
36314
36315
36316
36317
36318
36319
36320
36321
36322
36323
36324
36325
36326
36327
36328
36329
36330
36331
36332
36333
36334
36335
36336
36337
36338
36339
36340
36341
36342
36343
36344
36345
36346
36347
36348
36349
36350
36351
36352
36353
36354
36355
36356
36357
36358
36359
36360
36361
36362
36363
36364
36365
36366
36367
36368
36369
36370
36371
36372
36373
36374
36375
36376
36377
36378
36379
36380
36381
36382
36383
36384
36385
36386
36387
36388
36389
36390
36391
36392
36393
36394
36395
36396
36397
36398
36399
36400
36401
36402
36403
36404
36405
36406
36407
36408
36409
36410
36411
36412
36413
36414
36415
36416
36417
36418
36419
36420
36421
36422
36423
36424
36425
36426
36427
36428
36429
36430
36431
36432
36433
36434
36435
36436
36437
36438
36439
36440
36441
36442
36443
36444
36445
36446
36447
36448
36449
36450
36451
36452
36453
36454
36455
36456
36457
36458
36459
36460
36461
36462
36463
36464
36465
36466
36467
36468
36469
36470
36471
36472
36473
36474
36475
36476
36477
36478
36479
36480
36481
36482
36483
36484
36485
36486
36487
36488
36489
36490
36491
36492
36493
36494
36495
36496
36497
36498
36499
36500
36501
36502
36503
36504
36505
36506
36507
36508
36509
36510
36511
36512
36513
36514
36515
36516
36517
36518
36519
36520
36521
36522
36523
36524
36525
36526
36527
36528
36529
36530
36531
36532
36533
36534
36535
36536
36537
36538
36539
36540
36541
36542
36543
36544
36545
36546
36547
36548
36549
36550
36551
36552
36553
36554
36555
36556
36557
36558
36559
36560
36561
36562
36563
36564
36565
36566
36567
36568
36569
36570
36571
36572
36573
36574
36575
36576
36577
36578
36579
36580
36581
36582
36583
36584
36585
36586
36587
36588
36589
36590
36591
36592
36593
36594
36595
36596
36597
36598
36599
36600
36601
36602
36603
36604
36605
36606
36607
36608
36609
36610
36611
36612
36613
36614
36615
36616
36617
36618
36619
36620
36621
36622
36623
36624
36625
36626
36627
36628
36629
36630
36631
36632
36633
36634
36635
36636
36637
36638
36639
36640
36641
36642
36643
36644
36645
36646
36647
36648
36649
36650
36651
36652
36653
36654
36655
36656
36657
36658
36659
36660
36661
36662
36663
36664
36665
36666
36667
36668
36669
36670
36671
36672
36673
36674
36675
36676
36677
36678
36679
36680
36681
36682
36683
36684
36685
36686
36687
36688
36689
36690
36691
36692
36693
36694
36695
36696
36697
36698
36699
36700
36701
36702
36703
36704
36705
36706
36707
36708
36709
36710
36711
36712
36713
36714
36715
36716
36717
36718
36719
36720
36721
36722
36723
36724
36725
36726
36727
36728
36729
36730
36731
36732
36733
36734
36735
36736
36737
36738
36739
36740
36741
36742
36743
36744
36745
36746
36747
36748
36749
36750
36751
36752
36753
36754
36755
36756
36757
36758
36759
36760
36761
36762
36763
36764
36765
36766
36767
36768
36769
36770
36771
36772
36773
36774
36775
36776
36777
36778
36779
36780
36781
36782
36783
36784
36785
36786
36787
36788
36789
36790
36791
36792
36793
36794
36795
36796
36797
36798
36799
36800
36801
36802
36803
36804
36805
36806
36807
36808
36809
36810
36811
36812
36813
36814
36815
36816
36817
36818
36819
36820
36821
36822
36823
36824
36825
36826
36827
36828
36829
36830
36831
36832
36833
36834
36835
36836
36837
36838
36839
36840
36841
36842
36843
36844
36845
36846
36847
36848
36849
36850
36851
36852
36853
36854
36855
36856
36857
36858
36859
36860
36861
36862
36863
36864
36865
36866
36867
36868
36869
36870
36871
36872
36873
36874
36875
36876
36877
36878
36879
36880
36881
36882
36883
36884
36885
36886
36887
36888
36889
36890
36891
36892
36893
36894
36895
36896
36897
36898
36899
36900
36901
36902
36903
36904
36905
36906
36907
36908
36909
36910
36911
36912
36913
36914
36915
36916
36917
36918
36919
36920
36921
36922
36923
36924
36925
36926
36927
36928
36929
36930
36931
36932
36933
36934
36935
36936
36937
36938
36939
36940
36941
36942
36943
36944
36945
36946
36947
36948
36949
36950
36951
36952
36953
36954
36955
36956
36957
36958
36959
36960
36961
36962
36963
36964
36965
36966
36967
36968
36969
36970
36971
36972
36973
36974
36975
36976
36977
36978
36979
36980
36981
36982
36983
36984
36985
36986
36987
36988
36989
36990
36991
36992
36993
36994
36995
36996
36997
36998
36999
37000
37001
37002
37003
37004
37005
37006
37007
37008
37009
37010
37011
37012
37013
37014
37015
37016
37017
37018
37019
37020
37021
37022
37023
37024
37025
37026
37027
37028
37029
37030
37031
37032
37033
37034
37035
37036
37037
37038
37039
37040
37041
37042
37043
37044
37045
37046
37047
37048
37049
37050
37051
37052
37053
37054
37055
37056
37057
37058
37059
37060
37061
37062
37063
37064
37065
37066
37067
37068
37069
37070
37071
37072
37073
37074
37075
37076
37077
37078
37079
37080
37081
37082
37083
37084
37085
37086
37087
37088
37089
37090
37091
37092
37093
37094
37095
37096
37097
37098
37099
37100
37101
37102
37103
37104
37105
37106
37107
37108
37109
37110
37111
37112
37113
37114
37115
37116
37117
37118
37119
37120
37121
37122
37123
37124
37125
37126
37127
37128
37129
37130
37131
37132
37133
37134
37135
37136
37137
37138
37139
37140
37141
37142
37143
37144
37145
37146
37147
37148
37149
37150
37151
37152
37153
37154
37155
37156
37157
37158
37159
37160
37161
37162
37163
37164
37165
37166
37167
37168
37169
37170
37171
37172
37173
37174
37175
37176
37177
37178
37179
37180
37181
37182
37183
37184
37185
37186
37187
37188
37189
37190
37191
37192
37193
37194
37195
37196
37197
37198
37199
37200
37201
37202
37203
37204
37205
37206
37207
37208
37209
37210
37211
37212
37213
37214
37215
37216
37217
37218
37219
37220
37221
37222
37223
37224
37225
37226
37227
37228
37229
37230
37231
37232
37233
37234
37235
37236
37237
37238
37239
37240
37241
37242
37243
37244
37245
37246
37247
37248
37249
37250
37251
37252
37253
37254
37255
37256
37257
37258
37259
37260
37261
37262
37263
37264
37265
37266
37267
37268
37269
37270
37271
37272
37273
37274
37275
37276
37277
37278
37279
37280
37281
37282
37283
37284
37285
37286
37287
37288
37289
37290
37291
37292
37293
37294
37295
37296
37297
37298
37299
37300
37301
37302
37303
37304
37305
37306
37307
37308
37309
37310
37311
37312
37313
37314
37315
37316
37317
37318
37319
37320
37321
37322
37323
37324
37325
37326
37327
37328
37329
37330
37331
37332
37333
37334
37335
37336
37337
37338
37339
37340
37341
37342
37343
37344
37345
37346
37347
37348
37349
37350
37351
37352
37353
37354
37355
37356
37357
37358
37359
37360
37361
37362
37363
37364
37365
37366
37367
37368
37369
37370
37371
37372
37373
37374
37375
37376
37377
37378
37379
37380
37381
37382
37383
37384
37385
37386
37387
37388
37389
37390
37391
37392
37393
37394
37395
37396
37397
37398
37399
37400
37401
37402
37403
37404
37405
37406
37407
37408
37409
37410
37411
37412
37413
37414
37415
37416
37417
37418
37419
37420
37421
37422
37423
37424
37425
37426
37427
37428
37429
37430
37431
37432
37433
37434
37435
37436
37437
37438
37439
37440
37441
37442
37443
37444
37445
37446
37447
37448
37449
37450
37451
37452
37453
37454
37455
37456
37457
37458
37459
37460
37461
37462
37463
37464
37465
37466
37467
37468
37469
37470
37471
37472
37473
37474
37475
37476
37477
37478
37479
37480
37481
37482
37483
37484
37485
37486
37487
37488
37489
37490
37491
37492
37493
37494
37495
37496
37497
37498
37499
37500
37501
37502
37503
37504
37505
37506
37507
37508
37509
37510
37511
37512
37513
37514
37515
37516
37517
37518
37519
37520
37521
37522
37523
37524
37525
37526
37527
37528
37529
37530
37531
37532
37533
37534
37535
37536
37537
37538
37539
37540
37541
37542
37543
37544
37545
37546
37547
37548
37549
37550
37551
37552
37553
37554
37555
37556
37557
37558
37559
37560
37561
37562
37563
37564
37565
37566
37567
37568
37569
37570
37571
37572
37573
37574
37575
37576
37577
37578
37579
37580
37581
37582
37583
37584
37585
37586
37587
37588
37589
37590
37591
37592
37593
37594
37595
37596
37597
37598
37599
37600
37601
37602
37603
37604
37605
37606
37607
37608
37609
37610
37611
37612
37613
37614
37615
37616
37617
37618
37619
37620
37621
37622
37623
37624
37625
37626
37627
37628
37629
37630
37631
37632
37633
37634
37635
37636
37637
37638
37639
37640
37641
37642
37643
37644
37645
37646
37647
37648
37649
37650
37651
37652
37653
37654
37655
37656
37657
37658
37659
37660
37661
37662
37663
37664
37665
37666
37667
37668
37669
37670
37671
37672
37673
37674
37675
37676
37677
37678
37679
37680
37681
37682
37683
37684
37685
37686
37687
37688
37689
37690
37691
37692
37693
37694
37695
37696
37697
37698
37699
37700
37701
37702
37703
37704
37705
37706
37707
37708
37709
37710
37711
37712
37713
37714
37715
37716
37717
37718
37719
37720
37721
37722
37723
37724
37725
37726
37727
37728
37729
37730
37731
37732
37733
37734
37735
37736
37737
37738
37739
37740
37741
37742
37743
37744
37745
37746
37747
37748
37749
37750
37751
37752
37753
37754
37755
37756
37757
37758
37759
37760
37761
37762
37763
37764
37765
37766
37767
37768
37769
37770
37771
37772
37773
37774
37775
37776
37777
37778
37779
37780
37781
37782
37783
37784
37785
37786
37787
37788
37789
37790
37791
37792
37793
37794
37795
37796
37797
37798
37799
37800
37801
37802
37803
37804
37805
37806
37807
37808
37809
37810
37811
37812
37813
37814
37815
37816
37817
37818
37819
37820
37821
37822
37823
37824
37825
37826
37827
37828
37829
37830
37831
37832
37833
37834
37835
37836
37837
37838
37839
37840
37841
37842
37843
37844
37845
37846
37847
37848
37849
37850
37851
37852
37853
37854
37855
37856
37857
37858
37859
37860
37861
37862
37863
37864
37865
37866
37867
37868
37869
37870
37871
37872
37873
37874
37875
37876
37877
37878
37879
37880
37881
37882
37883
37884
37885
37886
37887
37888
37889
37890
37891
37892
37893
37894
37895
37896
37897
37898
37899
37900
37901
37902
37903
37904
37905
37906
37907
37908
37909
37910
37911
37912
37913
37914
37915
37916
37917
37918
37919
37920
37921
37922
37923
37924
37925
37926
37927
37928
37929
37930
37931
37932
37933
37934
37935
37936
37937
37938
37939
37940
37941
37942
37943
37944
37945
37946
37947
37948
37949
37950
37951
37952
37953
37954
37955
37956
37957
37958
37959
37960
37961
37962
37963
37964
37965
37966
37967
37968
37969
37970
37971
37972
37973
37974
37975
37976
37977
37978
37979
37980
37981
37982
37983
37984
37985
37986
37987
37988
37989
37990
37991
37992
37993
37994
37995
37996
37997
37998
37999
38000
38001
38002
38003
38004
38005
38006
38007
38008
38009
38010
38011
38012
38013
38014
38015
38016
38017
38018
38019
38020
38021
38022
38023
38024
38025
38026
38027
38028
38029
38030
38031
38032
38033
38034
38035
38036
38037
38038
38039
38040
38041
38042
38043
38044
38045
38046
38047
38048
38049
38050
38051
38052
38053
38054
38055
38056
38057
38058
38059
38060
38061
38062
38063
38064
38065
38066
38067
38068
38069
38070
38071
38072
38073
38074
38075
38076
38077
38078
38079
38080
38081
38082
38083
38084
38085
38086
38087
38088
38089
38090
38091
38092
38093
38094
38095
38096
38097
38098
38099
38100
38101
38102
38103
38104
38105
38106
38107
38108
38109
38110
38111
38112
38113
38114
38115
38116
38117
38118
38119
38120
38121
38122
38123
38124
38125
38126
38127
38128
38129
38130
38131
38132
38133
38134
38135
38136
38137
38138
38139
38140
38141
38142
38143
38144
38145
38146
38147
38148
38149
38150
38151
38152
38153
38154
38155
38156
38157
38158
38159
38160
38161
38162
38163
38164
38165
38166
38167
38168
38169
38170
38171
38172
38173
38174
38175
38176
38177
38178
38179
38180
38181
38182
38183
38184
38185
38186
38187
38188
38189
38190
38191
38192
38193
38194
38195
38196
38197
38198
38199
38200
38201
38202
38203
38204
38205
38206
38207
38208
38209
38210
38211
38212
38213
38214
38215
38216
38217
38218
38219
38220
38221
38222
38223
38224
38225
38226
38227
38228
38229
38230
38231
38232
38233
38234
38235
38236
38237
38238
38239
38240
38241
38242
38243
38244
38245
38246
38247
38248
38249
38250
38251
38252
38253
38254
38255
38256
38257
38258
38259
38260
38261
38262
38263
38264
38265
38266
38267
38268
38269
38270
38271
38272
38273
38274
38275
38276
38277
38278
38279
38280
38281
38282
38283
38284
38285
38286
38287
38288
38289
38290
38291
38292
38293
38294
38295
38296
38297
38298
38299
38300
38301
38302
38303
38304
38305
38306
38307
38308
38309
38310
38311
38312
38313
38314
38315
38316
38317
38318
38319
38320
38321
38322
38323
38324
38325
38326
38327
38328
38329
38330
38331
38332
38333
38334
38335
38336
38337
38338
38339
38340
38341
38342
38343
38344
38345
38346
38347
38348
38349
38350
38351
38352
38353
38354
38355
38356
38357
38358
38359
38360
38361
38362
38363
38364
38365
38366
38367
38368
38369
38370
38371
38372
38373
38374
38375
38376
38377
38378
38379
38380
38381
38382
38383
38384
38385
38386
38387
38388
38389
38390
38391
38392
38393
38394
38395
38396
38397
38398
38399
38400
38401
38402
38403
38404
38405
38406
38407
38408
38409
38410
38411
38412
38413
38414
38415
38416
38417
38418
38419
38420
38421
38422
38423
38424
38425
38426
38427
38428
38429
38430
38431
38432
38433
38434
38435
38436
38437
38438
38439
38440
38441
38442
38443
38444
38445
38446
38447
38448
38449
38450
38451
38452
38453
38454
38455
38456
38457
38458
38459
38460
38461
38462
38463
38464
38465
38466
38467
38468
38469
38470
38471
38472
38473
38474
38475
38476
38477
38478
38479
38480
38481
38482
38483
38484
38485
38486
38487
38488
38489
38490
38491
38492
38493
38494
38495
38496
38497
38498
38499
38500
38501
38502
38503
38504
38505
38506
38507
38508
38509
38510
38511
38512
38513
38514
38515
38516
38517
38518
38519
38520
38521
38522
38523
38524
38525
38526
38527
38528
38529
38530
38531
38532
38533
38534
38535
38536
38537
38538
38539
38540
38541
38542
38543
38544
38545
38546
38547
38548
38549
38550
38551
38552
38553
38554
38555
38556
38557
38558
38559
38560
38561
38562
38563
38564
38565
38566
38567
38568
38569
38570
38571
38572
38573
38574
38575
38576
38577
38578
38579
38580
38581
38582
38583
38584
38585
38586
38587
38588
38589
38590
38591
38592
38593
38594
38595
38596
38597
38598
38599
38600
38601
38602
38603
38604
38605
38606
38607
38608
38609
38610
38611
38612
38613
38614
38615
38616
38617
38618
38619
38620
38621
38622
38623
38624
38625
38626
38627
38628
38629
38630
38631
38632
38633
38634
38635
38636
38637
38638
38639
38640
38641
38642
38643
38644
38645
38646
38647
38648
38649
38650
38651
38652
38653
38654
38655
38656
38657
38658
38659
38660
38661
38662
38663
38664
38665
38666
38667
38668
38669
38670
38671
38672
38673
38674
38675
38676
38677
38678
38679
38680
38681
38682
38683
38684
38685
38686
38687
38688
38689
38690
38691
38692
38693
38694
38695
38696
38697
38698
38699
38700
38701
38702
38703
38704
38705
38706
38707
38708
38709
38710
38711
38712
38713
38714
38715
38716
38717
38718
38719
38720
38721
38722
38723
38724
38725
38726
38727
38728
38729
38730
38731
38732
38733
38734
38735
38736
38737
38738
38739
38740
38741
38742
38743
38744
38745
38746
38747
38748
38749
38750
38751
38752
38753
38754
38755
38756
38757
38758
38759
38760
38761
38762
38763
38764
38765
38766
38767
38768
38769
38770
38771
38772
38773
38774
38775
38776
38777
38778
38779
38780
38781
38782
38783
38784
38785
38786
38787
38788
38789
38790
38791
38792
38793
38794
38795
38796
38797
38798
38799
38800
38801
38802
38803
38804
38805
38806
38807
38808
38809
38810
38811
38812
38813
38814
38815
38816
38817
38818
38819
38820
38821
38822
38823
38824
38825
38826
38827
38828
38829
38830
38831
38832
38833
38834
38835
38836
38837
38838
38839
38840
38841
38842
38843
38844
38845
38846
38847
38848
38849
38850
38851
38852
38853
38854
38855
38856
38857
38858
38859
38860
38861
38862
38863
38864
38865
38866
38867
38868
38869
38870
38871
38872
38873
38874
38875
38876
38877
38878
38879
38880
38881
38882
38883
38884
38885
38886
38887
38888
38889
38890
38891
38892
38893
38894
38895
38896
38897
38898
38899
38900
38901
38902
38903
38904
38905
38906
38907
38908
38909
38910
38911
38912
38913
38914
38915
38916
38917
38918
38919
38920
38921
38922
38923
38924
38925
38926
38927
38928
38929
38930
38931
38932
38933
38934
38935
38936
38937
38938
38939
38940
38941
38942
38943
38944
38945
38946
38947
38948
38949
38950
38951
38952
38953
38954
38955
38956
38957
38958
38959
38960
38961
38962
38963
38964
38965
38966
38967
38968
38969
38970
38971
38972
38973
38974
38975
38976
38977
38978
38979
38980
38981
38982
38983
38984
38985
38986
38987
38988
38989
38990
38991
38992
38993
38994
38995
38996
38997
38998
38999
39000
39001
39002
39003
39004
39005
39006
39007
39008
39009
39010
39011
39012
39013
39014
39015
39016
39017
39018
39019
39020
39021
39022
39023
39024
39025
39026
39027
39028
39029
39030
39031
39032
39033
39034
39035
39036
39037
39038
39039
39040
39041
39042
39043
39044
39045
39046
39047
39048
39049
39050
39051
39052
39053
39054
39055
39056
39057
39058
39059
39060
39061
39062
39063
39064
39065
39066
39067
39068
39069
39070
39071
39072
39073
39074
39075
39076
39077
39078
39079
39080
39081
39082
39083
39084
39085
39086
39087
39088
39089
39090
39091
39092
39093
39094
39095
39096
39097
39098
39099
39100
39101
39102
39103
39104
39105
39106
39107
39108
39109
39110
39111
39112
39113
39114
39115
39116
39117
39118
39119
39120
39121
39122
39123
39124
39125
39126
39127
39128
39129
39130
39131
39132
39133
39134
39135
39136
39137
39138
39139
39140
39141
39142
39143
39144
39145
39146
39147
39148
39149
39150
39151
39152
39153
39154
39155
39156
39157
39158
39159
39160
39161
39162
39163
39164
39165
39166
39167
39168
39169
39170
39171
39172
39173
39174
39175
39176
39177
39178
39179
39180
39181
39182
39183
39184
39185
39186
39187
39188
39189
39190
39191
39192
39193
39194
39195
39196
39197
39198
39199
39200
39201
39202
39203
39204
39205
39206
39207
39208
39209
39210
39211
39212
39213
39214
39215
39216
39217
39218
39219
39220
39221
39222
39223
39224
39225
39226
39227
39228
39229
39230
39231
39232
39233
39234
39235
39236
39237
39238
39239
39240
39241
39242
39243
39244
39245
39246
39247
39248
39249
39250
39251
39252
39253
39254
39255
39256
39257
39258
39259
39260
39261
39262
39263
39264
39265
39266
39267
39268
39269
39270
39271
39272
39273
39274
39275
39276
39277
39278
39279
39280
39281
39282
39283
39284
39285
39286
39287
39288
39289
39290
39291
39292
39293
39294
39295
39296
39297
39298
39299
39300
39301
39302
39303
39304
39305
39306
39307
39308
39309
39310
39311
39312
39313
39314
39315
39316
39317
39318
39319
39320
39321
39322
39323
39324
39325
39326
39327
39328
39329
39330
39331
39332
39333
39334
39335
39336
39337
39338
39339
39340
39341
39342
39343
39344
39345
39346
39347
39348
39349
39350
39351
39352
39353
39354
39355
39356
39357
39358
39359
39360
39361
39362
39363
39364
39365
39366
39367
39368
39369
39370
39371
39372
39373
39374
39375
39376
39377
39378
39379
39380
39381
39382
39383
39384
39385
39386
39387
39388
39389
39390
39391
39392
39393
39394
39395
39396
39397
39398
39399
39400
39401
39402
39403
39404
39405
39406
39407
39408
39409
39410
39411
39412
39413
39414
39415
39416
39417
39418
39419
39420
39421
39422
39423
39424
39425
39426
39427
39428
39429
39430
39431
39432
39433
39434
39435
39436
39437
39438
39439
39440
39441
39442
39443
39444
39445
39446
39447
39448
39449
39450
39451
39452
39453
39454
39455
39456
39457
39458
39459
39460
39461
39462
39463
39464
39465
39466
39467
39468
39469
39470
39471
39472
39473
39474
39475
39476
39477
39478
39479
39480
39481
39482
39483
39484
39485
39486
39487
39488
39489
39490
39491
39492
39493
39494
39495
39496
39497
39498
39499
39500
39501
39502
39503
39504
39505
39506
39507
39508
39509
39510
39511
39512
39513
39514
39515
39516
39517
39518
39519
39520
39521
39522
39523
39524
39525
39526
39527
39528
39529
39530
39531
39532
39533
39534
39535
39536
39537
39538
39539
39540
39541
39542
39543
39544
39545
39546
39547
39548
39549
39550
39551
39552
39553
39554
39555
39556
39557
39558
39559
39560
39561
39562
39563
39564
39565
39566
39567
39568
39569
39570
39571
39572
39573
39574
39575
39576
39577
39578
39579
39580
39581
39582
39583
39584
39585
39586
39587
39588
39589
39590
39591
39592
39593
39594
39595
39596
39597
39598
39599
39600
39601
39602
39603
39604
39605
39606
39607
39608
39609
39610
39611
39612
39613
39614
39615
39616
39617
39618
39619
39620
39621
39622
39623
39624
39625
39626
39627
39628
39629
39630
39631
39632
39633
39634
39635
39636
39637
39638
39639
39640
39641
39642
39643
39644
39645
39646
39647
39648
39649
39650
39651
39652
39653
39654
39655
39656
39657
39658
39659
39660
39661
39662
39663
39664
39665
39666
39667
39668
39669
39670
39671
39672
39673
39674
39675
39676
39677
39678
39679
39680
39681
39682
39683
39684
39685
39686
39687
39688
39689
39690
39691
39692
39693
39694
39695
39696
39697
39698
39699
39700
39701
39702
39703
39704
39705
39706
39707
39708
39709
39710
39711
39712
39713
39714
39715
39716
39717
39718
39719
39720
39721
39722
39723
39724
39725
39726
39727
39728
39729
39730
39731
39732
39733
39734
39735
39736
39737
39738
39739
39740
39741
39742
39743
39744
39745
39746
39747
39748
39749
39750
39751
39752
39753
39754
39755
39756
39757
39758
39759
39760
39761
39762
39763
39764
39765
39766
39767
39768
39769
39770
39771
39772
39773
39774
39775
39776
39777
39778
39779
39780
39781
39782
39783
39784
39785
39786
39787
39788
39789
39790
39791
39792
39793
39794
39795
39796
39797
39798
39799
39800
39801
39802
39803
39804
39805
39806
39807
39808
39809
39810
39811
39812
39813
39814
39815
39816
39817
39818
39819
39820
39821
39822
39823
39824
39825
39826
39827
39828
39829
39830
39831
39832
39833
39834
39835
39836
39837
39838
39839
39840
39841
39842
39843
39844
39845
39846
39847
39848
39849
39850
39851
39852
39853
39854
39855
39856
39857
39858
39859
39860
39861
39862
39863
39864
39865
39866
39867
39868
39869
39870
39871
39872
39873
39874
39875
39876
39877
39878
39879
39880
39881
39882
39883
39884
39885
39886
39887
39888
39889
39890
39891
39892
39893
39894
39895
39896
39897
39898
39899
39900
39901
39902
39903
39904
39905
39906
39907
39908
39909
39910
39911
39912
39913
39914
39915
39916
39917
39918
39919
39920
39921
39922
39923
39924
39925
39926
39927
39928
39929
39930
39931
39932
39933
39934
39935
39936
39937
39938
39939
39940
39941
39942
39943
39944
39945
39946
39947
39948
39949
39950
39951
39952
39953
39954
39955
39956
39957
39958
39959
39960
39961
39962
39963
39964
39965
39966
39967
39968
39969
39970
39971
39972
39973
39974
39975
39976
39977
39978
39979
39980
39981
39982
39983
39984
39985
39986
39987
39988
39989
39990
39991
39992
39993
39994
39995
39996
39997
39998
39999
40000
40001
40002
40003
40004
40005
40006
40007
40008
40009
40010
40011
40012
40013
40014
40015
40016
40017
40018
40019
40020
40021
40022
40023
40024
40025
40026
40027
40028
40029
40030
40031
40032
40033
40034
40035
40036
40037
40038
40039
40040
40041
40042
40043
40044
40045
40046
40047
40048
40049
40050
40051
40052
40053
40054
40055
40056
40057
40058
40059
40060
40061
40062
40063
40064
40065
40066
40067
40068
40069
40070
40071
40072
40073
40074
40075
40076
40077
40078
40079
40080
40081
40082
40083
40084
40085
40086
40087
40088
40089
40090
40091
40092
40093
40094
40095
40096
40097
40098
40099
40100
40101
40102
40103
40104
40105
40106
40107
40108
40109
40110
40111
40112
40113
40114
40115
40116
40117
40118
40119
40120
40121
40122
40123
40124
40125
40126
40127
40128
40129
40130
40131
40132
40133
40134
40135
40136
40137
40138
40139
40140
40141
40142
40143
40144
40145
40146
40147
40148
40149
40150
40151
40152
40153
40154
40155
40156
40157
40158
40159
40160
40161
40162
40163
40164
40165
40166
40167
40168
40169
40170
40171
40172
40173
40174
40175
40176
40177
40178
40179
40180
40181
40182
40183
40184
40185
40186
40187
40188
40189
40190
40191
40192
40193
40194
40195
40196
40197
40198
40199
40200
40201
40202
40203
40204
40205
40206
40207
40208
40209
40210
40211
40212
40213
40214
40215
40216
40217
40218
40219
40220
40221
40222
40223
40224
40225
40226
40227
40228
40229
40230
40231
40232
40233
40234
40235
40236
40237
40238
40239
40240
40241
40242
40243
40244
40245
40246
40247
40248
40249
40250
40251
40252
40253
40254
40255
40256
40257
40258
40259
40260
40261
40262
40263
40264
40265
40266
40267
40268
40269
40270
40271
40272
40273
40274
40275
40276
40277
40278
40279
40280
40281
40282
40283
40284
40285
40286
40287
40288
40289
40290
40291
40292
40293
40294
40295
40296
40297
40298
40299
40300
40301
40302
40303
40304
40305
40306
40307
40308
40309
40310
40311
40312
40313
40314
40315
40316
40317
40318
40319
40320
40321
40322
40323
40324
40325
40326
40327
40328
40329
40330
40331
40332
40333
40334
40335
40336
40337
40338
40339
40340
40341
40342
40343
40344
40345
40346
40347
40348
40349
40350
40351
40352
40353
40354
40355
40356
40357
40358
40359
40360
40361
40362
40363
40364
40365
40366
40367
40368
40369
40370
40371
40372
40373
40374
40375
40376
40377
40378
40379
40380
40381
40382
40383
40384
40385
40386
40387
40388
40389
40390
40391
40392
40393
40394
40395
40396
40397
40398
40399
40400
40401
40402
40403
40404
40405
40406
40407
40408
40409
40410
40411
40412
40413
40414
40415
40416
40417
40418
40419
40420
40421
40422
40423
40424
40425
40426
40427
40428
40429
40430
40431
40432
40433
40434
40435
40436
40437
40438
40439
40440
40441
40442
40443
40444
40445
40446
40447
40448
40449
40450
40451
40452
40453
40454
40455
40456
40457
40458
40459
40460
40461
40462
40463
40464
40465
40466
40467
40468
40469
40470
40471
40472
40473
40474
40475
40476
40477
40478
40479
40480
40481
40482
40483
40484
40485
40486
40487
40488
40489
40490
40491
40492
40493
40494
40495
40496
40497
40498
40499
40500
40501
40502
40503
40504
40505
40506
40507
40508
40509
40510
40511
40512
40513
40514
40515
40516
40517
40518
40519
40520
40521
40522
40523
40524
40525
40526
40527
40528
40529
40530
40531
40532
40533
40534
40535
40536
40537
40538
40539
40540
40541
40542
40543
40544
40545
40546
40547
40548
40549
40550
40551
40552
40553
40554
40555
40556
40557
40558
40559
40560
40561
40562
40563
40564
40565
40566
40567
40568
40569
40570
40571
40572
40573
40574
40575
40576
40577
40578
40579
40580
40581
40582
40583
40584
40585
40586
40587
40588
40589
40590
40591
40592
40593
40594
40595
40596
40597
40598
40599
40600
40601
40602
40603
40604
40605
40606
40607
40608
40609
40610
40611
40612
40613
40614
40615
40616
40617
40618
40619
40620
40621
40622
40623
40624
40625
40626
40627
40628
40629
40630
40631
40632
40633
40634
40635
40636
40637
40638
40639
40640
40641
40642
40643
40644
40645
40646
40647
40648
40649
40650
40651
40652
40653
40654
40655
40656
40657
40658
40659
40660
40661
40662
40663
40664
40665
40666
40667
40668
40669
40670
40671
40672
40673
40674
40675
40676
40677
40678
40679
40680
40681
40682
40683
40684
40685
40686
40687
40688
40689
40690
40691
40692
40693
40694
40695
40696
40697
40698
40699
40700
40701
40702
40703
40704
40705
40706
40707
40708
40709
40710
40711
40712
40713
40714
40715
40716
40717
40718
40719
40720
40721
40722
40723
40724
40725
40726
40727
40728
40729
40730
40731
40732
40733
40734
40735
40736
40737
40738
40739
40740
40741
40742
40743
40744
40745
40746
40747
40748
40749
40750
40751
40752
40753
40754
40755
40756
40757
40758
40759
40760
40761
40762
40763
40764
40765
40766
40767
40768
40769
40770
40771
40772
40773
40774
40775
40776
40777
40778
40779
40780
40781
40782
40783
40784
40785
40786
40787
40788
40789
40790
40791
40792
40793
40794
40795
40796
40797
40798
40799
40800
40801
40802
40803
40804
40805
40806
40807
40808
40809
40810
40811
40812
40813
40814
40815
40816
40817
40818
40819
40820
40821
40822
40823
40824
40825
40826
40827
40828
40829
40830
40831
40832
40833
40834
40835
40836
40837
40838
40839
40840
40841
40842
40843
40844
40845
40846
40847
40848
40849
40850
40851
40852
40853
40854
40855
40856
40857
40858
40859
40860
40861
40862
40863
40864
40865
40866
40867
40868
40869
40870
40871
40872
40873
40874
40875
40876
40877
40878
40879
40880
40881
40882
40883
40884
40885
40886
40887
40888
40889
40890
40891
40892
40893
40894
40895
40896
40897
40898
40899
40900
40901
40902
40903
40904
40905
40906
40907
40908
40909
40910
40911
40912
40913
40914
40915
40916
40917
40918
40919
40920
40921
40922
40923
40924
40925
40926
40927
40928
40929
40930
40931
40932
40933
40934
40935
40936
40937
40938
40939
40940
40941
40942
40943
40944
40945
40946
40947
40948
40949
40950
40951
40952
40953
40954
40955
40956
40957
40958
40959
40960
40961
40962
40963
40964
40965
40966
40967
40968
40969
40970
40971
40972
40973
40974
40975
40976
40977
40978
40979
40980
40981
40982
40983
40984
40985
40986
40987
40988
40989
40990
40991
40992
40993
40994
40995
40996
40997
40998
40999
41000
41001
41002
41003
41004
41005
41006
41007
41008
41009
41010
41011
41012
41013
41014
41015
41016
41017
41018
41019
41020
41021
41022
41023
41024
41025
41026
41027
41028
41029
41030
41031
41032
41033
41034
41035
41036
41037
41038
41039
41040
41041
41042
41043
41044
41045
41046
41047
41048
41049
41050
41051
41052
41053
41054
41055
41056
41057
41058
41059
41060
41061
41062
41063
41064
41065
41066
41067
41068
41069
41070
41071
41072
41073
41074
41075
41076
41077
41078
41079
41080
41081
41082
41083
41084
41085
41086
41087
41088
41089
41090
41091
41092
41093
41094
41095
41096
41097
41098
41099
41100
41101
41102
41103
41104
41105
41106
41107
41108
41109
41110
41111
41112
41113
41114
41115
41116
41117
41118
41119
41120
41121
41122
41123
41124
41125
41126
41127
41128
41129
41130
41131
41132
41133
41134
41135
41136
41137
41138
41139
41140
41141
41142
41143
41144
41145
41146
41147
41148
41149
41150
41151
41152
41153
41154
41155
41156
41157
41158
41159
41160
41161
41162
41163
41164
41165
41166
41167
41168
41169
41170
41171
41172
41173
41174
41175
41176
41177
41178
41179
41180
41181
41182
41183
41184
41185
41186
41187
41188
41189
41190
41191
41192
41193
41194
41195
41196
41197
41198
41199
41200
41201
41202
41203
41204
41205
41206
41207
41208
41209
41210
41211
41212
41213
41214
41215
41216
41217
41218
41219
41220
41221
41222
41223
41224
41225
41226
41227
41228
41229
41230
41231
41232
41233
41234
41235
41236
41237
41238
41239
41240
41241
41242
41243
41244
41245
41246
41247
41248
41249
41250
41251
41252
41253
41254
41255
41256
41257
41258
41259
41260
41261
41262
41263
41264
41265
41266
41267
41268
41269
41270
41271
41272
41273
41274
41275
41276
41277
41278
41279
41280
41281
41282
41283
41284
41285
41286
41287
41288
41289
41290
41291
41292
41293
41294
41295
41296
41297
41298
41299
41300
41301
41302
41303
41304
41305
41306
41307
41308
41309
41310
41311
41312
41313
41314
41315
41316
41317
41318
41319
41320
41321
41322
41323
41324
41325
41326
41327
41328
41329
41330
41331
41332
41333
41334
41335
41336
41337
41338
41339
41340
41341
41342
41343
41344
41345
41346
41347
41348
41349
41350
41351
41352
41353
41354
41355
41356
41357
41358
41359
41360
41361
41362
41363
41364
41365
41366
41367
41368
41369
41370
41371
41372
41373
41374
41375
41376
41377
41378
41379
41380
41381
41382
41383
41384
41385
41386
41387
41388
41389
41390
41391
41392
41393
41394
41395
41396
41397
41398
41399
41400
41401
41402
41403
41404
41405
41406
41407
41408
41409
41410
41411
41412
41413
41414
41415
41416
41417
41418
41419
41420
41421
41422
41423
41424
41425
41426
41427
41428
41429
41430
41431
41432
41433
41434
41435
41436
41437
41438
41439
41440
41441
41442
41443
41444
41445
41446
41447
41448
41449
41450
41451
41452
41453
41454
41455
41456
41457
41458
41459
41460
41461
41462
41463
41464
41465
41466
41467
41468
41469
41470
41471
41472
41473
41474
41475
41476
41477
41478
41479
41480
41481
41482
41483
41484
41485
41486
41487
41488
41489
41490
41491
41492
41493
41494
41495
41496
41497
41498
41499
41500
41501
41502
41503
41504
41505
41506
41507
41508
41509
41510
41511
41512
41513
41514
41515
41516
41517
41518
41519
41520
41521
41522
41523
41524
41525
41526
41527
41528
41529
41530
41531
41532
41533
41534
41535
41536
41537
41538
41539
41540
41541
41542
41543
41544
41545
41546
41547
41548
41549
41550
41551
41552
41553
41554
41555
41556
41557
41558
41559
41560
41561
41562
41563
41564
41565
41566
41567
41568
41569
41570
41571
41572
41573
41574
41575
41576
41577
41578
41579
41580
41581
41582
41583
41584
41585
41586
41587
41588
41589
41590
41591
41592
41593
41594
41595
41596
41597
41598
41599
41600
41601
41602
41603
41604
41605
41606
41607
41608
41609
41610
41611
41612
41613
41614
41615
41616
41617
41618
41619
41620
41621
41622
41623
41624
41625
41626
41627
41628
41629
41630
41631
41632
41633
41634
41635
41636
41637
41638
41639
41640
41641
41642
41643
41644
41645
41646
41647
41648
41649
41650
41651
41652
41653
41654
41655
41656
41657
41658
41659
41660
41661
41662
41663
41664
41665
41666
41667
41668
41669
41670
41671
41672
41673
41674
41675
41676
41677
41678
41679
41680
41681
41682
41683
41684
41685
41686
41687
41688
41689
41690
41691
41692
41693
41694
41695
41696
41697
41698
41699
41700
41701
41702
41703
41704
41705
41706
41707
41708
41709
41710
41711
41712
41713
41714
41715
41716
41717
41718
41719
41720
41721
41722
41723
41724
41725
41726
41727
41728
41729
41730
41731
41732
41733
41734
41735
41736
41737
41738
41739
41740
41741
41742
41743
41744
41745
41746
41747
41748
41749
41750
41751
41752
41753
41754
41755
41756
41757
41758
41759
41760
41761
41762
41763
41764
41765
41766
41767
41768
41769
41770
41771
41772
41773
41774
41775
41776
41777
41778
41779
41780
41781
41782
41783
41784
41785
41786
41787
41788
41789
41790
41791
41792
41793
41794
41795
41796
41797
41798
41799
41800
41801
41802
41803
41804
41805
41806
41807
41808
41809
41810
41811
41812
41813
41814
41815
41816
41817
41818
41819
41820
41821
41822
41823
41824
41825
41826
41827
41828
41829
41830
41831
41832
41833
41834
41835
41836
41837
41838
41839
41840
41841
41842
41843
41844
41845
41846
41847
41848
41849
41850
41851
41852
41853
41854
41855
41856
41857
41858
41859
41860
41861
41862
41863
41864
41865
41866
41867
41868
41869
41870
41871
41872
41873
41874
41875
41876
41877
41878
41879
41880
41881
41882
41883
41884
41885
41886
41887
41888
41889
41890
41891
41892
41893
41894
41895
41896
41897
41898
41899
41900
41901
41902
41903
41904
41905
41906
41907
41908
41909
41910
41911
41912
41913
41914
41915
41916
41917
41918
41919
41920
41921
41922
41923
41924
41925
41926
41927
41928
41929
41930
41931
41932
41933
41934
41935
41936
41937
41938
41939
41940
41941
41942
41943
41944
41945
41946
41947
41948
41949
41950
41951
41952
41953
41954
41955
41956
41957
41958
41959
41960
41961
41962
41963
41964
41965
41966
41967
41968
41969
41970
41971
41972
41973
41974
41975
41976
41977
41978
41979
41980
41981
41982
41983
41984
41985
41986
41987
41988
41989
41990
41991
41992
41993
41994
41995
41996
41997
41998
41999
42000
42001
42002
42003
42004
42005
42006
42007
42008
42009
42010
42011
42012
42013
42014
42015
42016
42017
42018
42019
42020
42021
42022
42023
42024
42025
42026
42027
42028
42029
42030
42031
42032
42033
42034
42035
42036
42037
42038
42039
42040
42041
42042
42043
42044
42045
42046
42047
42048
42049
42050
42051
42052
42053
42054
42055
42056
42057
42058
42059
42060
42061
42062
42063
42064
42065
42066
42067
42068
42069
42070
42071
42072
42073
42074
42075
42076
42077
42078
42079
42080
42081
42082
42083
42084
42085
42086
42087
42088
42089
42090
42091
42092
42093
42094
42095
42096
42097
42098
42099
42100
42101
42102
42103
42104
42105
42106
42107
42108
42109
42110
42111
42112
42113
42114
42115
42116
42117
42118
42119
42120
42121
42122
42123
42124
42125
42126
42127
42128
42129
42130
42131
42132
42133
42134
42135
42136
42137
42138
42139
42140
42141
42142
42143
42144
42145
42146
42147
42148
42149
42150
42151
42152
42153
42154
42155
42156
42157
42158
42159
42160
42161
42162
42163
42164
42165
42166
42167
42168
42169
42170
42171
42172
42173
42174
42175
42176
42177
42178
42179
42180
42181
42182
42183
42184
42185
42186
42187
42188
42189
42190
42191
42192
42193
42194
42195
42196
42197
42198
42199
42200
42201
42202
42203
42204
42205
42206
42207
42208
42209
42210
42211
42212
42213
42214
42215
42216
42217
42218
42219
42220
42221
42222
42223
42224
42225
42226
42227
42228
42229
42230
42231
42232
42233
42234
42235
42236
42237
42238
42239
42240
42241
42242
42243
42244
42245
42246
42247
42248
42249
42250
42251
42252
42253
42254
42255
42256
42257
42258
42259
42260
42261
42262
42263
42264
42265
42266
42267
42268
42269
42270
42271
42272
42273
42274
42275
42276
42277
42278
42279
42280
42281
42282
42283
42284
42285
42286
42287
42288
42289
42290
42291
42292
42293
42294
42295
42296
42297
42298
42299
42300
42301
42302
42303
42304
42305
42306
42307
42308
42309
42310
42311
42312
42313
42314
42315
42316
42317
42318
42319
42320
42321
42322
42323
42324
42325
42326
42327
42328
42329
42330
42331
42332
42333
42334
42335
42336
42337
42338
42339
42340
42341
42342
42343
42344
42345
42346
42347
42348
42349
42350
42351
42352
42353
42354
42355
42356
42357
42358
42359
42360
42361
42362
42363
42364
42365
42366
42367
42368
42369
42370
42371
42372
42373
42374
42375
42376
42377
42378
42379
42380
42381
42382
42383
42384
42385
42386
42387
42388
42389
42390
42391
42392
42393
42394
42395
42396
42397
42398
42399
42400
42401
42402
42403
42404
42405
42406
42407
42408
42409
42410
42411
42412
42413
42414
42415
42416
42417
42418
42419
42420
42421
42422
42423
42424
42425
42426
42427
42428
42429
42430
42431
42432
42433
42434
42435
42436
42437
42438
42439
42440
42441
42442
42443
42444
42445
42446
42447
42448
42449
42450
42451
42452
42453
42454
42455
42456
42457
42458
42459
42460
42461
42462
42463
42464
42465
42466
42467
42468
42469
42470
42471
42472
42473
42474
42475
42476
42477
42478
42479
42480
42481
42482
42483
42484
42485
42486
42487
42488
42489
42490
42491
42492
42493
42494
42495
42496
42497
42498
42499
42500
42501
42502
42503
42504
42505
42506
42507
42508
42509
42510
42511
42512
42513
42514
42515
42516
42517
42518
42519
42520
42521
42522
42523
42524
42525
42526
42527
42528
42529
42530
42531
42532
42533
42534
42535
42536
42537
42538
42539
42540
42541
42542
42543
42544
42545
42546
42547
42548
42549
42550
42551
42552
42553
42554
42555
42556
42557
42558
42559
42560
42561
42562
42563
42564
42565
42566
42567
42568
42569
42570
42571
42572
42573
42574
42575
42576
42577
42578
42579
42580
42581
42582
42583
42584
42585
42586
42587
42588
42589
42590
42591
42592
42593
42594
42595
42596
42597
42598
42599
42600
42601
42602
42603
42604
42605
42606
42607
42608
42609
42610
42611
42612
42613
42614
42615
42616
42617
42618
42619
42620
42621
42622
42623
42624
42625
42626
42627
42628
42629
42630
42631
42632
42633
42634
42635
42636
42637
42638
42639
42640
42641
42642
42643
42644
42645
42646
42647
42648
42649
42650
42651
42652
42653
42654
42655
42656
42657
42658
42659
42660
42661
42662
42663
42664
42665
42666
42667
42668
42669
42670
42671
42672
42673
42674
42675
42676
42677
42678
42679
42680
42681
42682
42683
42684
42685
42686
42687
42688
42689
42690
42691
42692
42693
42694
42695
42696
42697
42698
42699
42700
42701
42702
42703
42704
42705
42706
42707
42708
42709
42710
42711
42712
42713
42714
42715
42716
42717
42718
42719
42720
42721
42722
42723
42724
42725
42726
42727
42728
42729
42730
42731
42732
42733
42734
42735
42736
42737
42738
42739
42740
42741
42742
42743
42744
42745
42746
42747
42748
42749
42750
42751
42752
42753
42754
42755
42756
42757
42758
42759
42760
42761
42762
42763
42764
42765
42766
42767
42768
42769
42770
42771
42772
42773
42774
42775
42776
42777
42778
42779
42780
42781
42782
42783
42784
42785
42786
42787
42788
42789
42790
42791
42792
42793
42794
42795
42796
42797
42798
42799
42800
42801
42802
42803
42804
42805
42806
42807
42808
42809
42810
42811
42812
42813
42814
42815
42816
42817
42818
42819
42820
42821
42822
42823
42824
42825
42826
42827
42828
42829
42830
42831
42832
42833
42834
42835
42836
42837
42838
42839
42840
42841
42842
42843
42844
42845
42846
42847
42848
42849
42850
42851
42852
42853
42854
42855
42856
42857
42858
42859
42860
42861
42862
42863
42864
42865
42866
42867
42868
42869
42870
42871
42872
42873
42874
42875
42876
42877
42878
42879
42880
42881
42882
42883
42884
42885
42886
42887
42888
42889
42890
42891
42892
42893
42894
42895
42896
42897
42898
42899
42900
42901
42902
42903
42904
42905
42906
42907
42908
42909
42910
42911
42912
42913
42914
42915
42916
42917
42918
42919
42920
42921
42922
42923
42924
42925
42926
42927
42928
42929
42930
42931
42932
42933
42934
42935
42936
42937
42938
42939
42940
42941
42942
42943
42944
42945
42946
42947
42948
42949
42950
42951
42952
42953
42954
42955
42956
42957
42958
42959
42960
42961
42962
42963
42964
42965
42966
42967
42968
42969
42970
42971
42972
42973
42974
42975
42976
42977
42978
42979
42980
42981
42982
42983
42984
42985
42986
42987
42988
42989
42990
42991
42992
42993
42994
42995
42996
42997
42998
42999
43000
43001
43002
43003
43004
43005
43006
43007
43008
43009
43010
43011
43012
43013
43014
43015
43016
43017
43018
43019
43020
43021
43022
43023
43024
43025
43026
43027
43028
43029
43030
43031
43032
43033
43034
43035
43036
43037
43038
43039
43040
43041
43042
43043
43044
43045
43046
43047
43048
43049
43050
43051
43052
43053
43054
43055
43056
43057
43058
43059
43060
43061
43062
43063
43064
43065
43066
43067
43068
43069
43070
43071
43072
43073
43074
43075
43076
43077
43078
43079
43080
43081
43082
43083
43084
43085
43086
43087
43088
43089
43090
43091
43092
43093
43094
43095
43096
43097
43098
43099
43100
43101
43102
43103
43104
43105
43106
43107
43108
43109
43110
43111
43112
43113
43114
43115
43116
43117
43118
43119
43120
43121
43122
43123
43124
43125
43126
43127
43128
43129
43130
43131
43132
43133
43134
43135
43136
43137
43138
43139
43140
43141
43142
43143
43144
43145
43146
43147
43148
43149
43150
43151
43152
43153
43154
43155
43156
43157
43158
43159
43160
43161
43162
43163
43164
43165
43166
43167
43168
43169
43170
43171
43172
43173
43174
43175
43176
43177
43178
43179
43180
43181
43182
43183
43184
43185
43186
43187
43188
43189
43190
43191
43192
43193
43194
43195
43196
43197
43198
43199
43200
43201
43202
43203
43204
43205
43206
43207
43208
43209
43210
43211
43212
43213
43214
43215
43216
43217
43218
43219
43220
43221
43222
43223
43224
43225
43226
43227
43228
43229
43230
43231
43232
43233
43234
43235
43236
43237
43238
43239
43240
43241
43242
43243
43244
43245
43246
43247
43248
43249
43250
43251
43252
43253
43254
43255
43256
43257
43258
43259
43260
43261
43262
43263
43264
43265
43266
43267
43268
43269
43270
43271
43272
43273
43274
43275
43276
43277
43278
43279
43280
43281
43282
43283
43284
43285
43286
43287
43288
43289
43290
43291
43292
43293
43294
43295
43296
43297
43298
43299
43300
43301
43302
43303
43304
43305
43306
43307
43308
43309
43310
43311
43312
43313
43314
43315
43316
43317
43318
43319
43320

<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1"?>

<!DOCTYPE html
   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >

<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
  <head>
    <title>
      Real Life in London, Complete by An Amateur [Pierce Egan]
    </title>
    <style type="text/css">
    <!--
    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
    .indent5   { margin-left: 5%;}
    .indent10  { margin-left: 10%;}
    .indent15  { margin-left: 15%;}
    .indent20  { margin-left: 20%;}
    .indent30  { margin-left: 30%;}
    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal;
               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
               text-align: right;}
    .side      { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em;
               border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left;
               text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;
               font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;}
    p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0}
    span.dropcap         { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 }
    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
    -->
</style>
  </head>
  <body>
    <h1>
      REAL LIFE IN LONDON
    </h1>
<pre xml:space="preserve">

Project Gutenberg's Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II., by Pierce Egan

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org


Title: Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
       Or, The Rambles And Adventures Of Bob Tallyho, Esq., And
              His Cousin, The Hon. Tom Dashall, Through The Metropolis;
              Exhibiting A Living Picture Of Fashionable Characters,
              Manners, And Amusements In High And Low Life (1821)

Author: Pierce Egan

Illustrator: Heath, Aiken, Dighton, and Rowlandson

Release Date: January 30, 2007 [EBook #20484]
Last Updated: October 19, 2012

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK REAL LIFE IN LONDON ***




Produced by David Widger





</pre>
    <div class="mynote">
      <i><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/20484/old/orig20484-h/main.htm">
      LINK TO THE ORIGINAL HTML FILE: This Ebook Has Been Reformatted For Better
      Appearance In Mobile Viewers Such As Kindles And Others. The Original
      Format, Which The Editor Believes Has A More Attractive Appearance For
      Laptops And Other Computers, May Be Viewed By Clicking On This Box.</a></i>
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="London_spines (64K)" src="images/London_spines.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <h1>
      REAL LIFE IN LONDON
    </h1>
    <div class="middle">
      <p>
        <big>OR, THE RAMBLES AND ADVENTURES OF BOB TALLYHO, ESQ., <br /> AND HIS
        COUSIN, THE HON. TOM DASHALL, <br /> THROUGH THE METROPOLIS; <br />
        EXHIBITING A LIVING PICTURE OF FASHIONABLE CHARACTERS, <br /> MANNERS,
        AND AMUSEMENTS IN HIGH AND LOW LIFE</big> <b> By an AMATEUR &nbsp;[Pierce
        Egan]</b> "'Tis pleasant through the loop-holes of retreat <br /> To peep
        at such a world; to see the stir <br /> Of the great Babel, and not feel
        the crowd."<br /> &mdash;Cowper <a name="linkimage-0001"
        id="linkimage-0001">
         <!--  IMG --> </a>
      </p>
    </div>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/titlepage1.jpg" alt="Titlepage1" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <div class="middle">
      <p>
        EMBELLISHED AND ILLUSTRATED WITH A SERIES OF COLOURED PRINTS, DESIGNED
        AND ENGRAVED BY MESSRS. HEATH, AIKEN, DIGHTON, ROWLANDSON, ETC. <b>VOLUME
        I. <br /> Part 1</b> A NEW EDITION METHUEN &amp; CO. LONDON NOTE This
        Issue, first published in 1905, is founded on the Edition<br /> printed
        for Jones &amp; Co. in the year 1821 <a name="linkimage-0002"
        id="linkimage-0002">
         <!--  IMG --> </a>
      </p>
    </div>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="Frontispiece" src="images/frontispiece1.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="titlepage1a (92K)" src="images/titlepage1a.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <h1>
      COLOR PLATES
    </h1>
    <h4>
      [Click on any image to enlarge it to full size.]
    </h4>
    <div class="fig">
      <p>
        <br /><a href="images/page010.jpg"><img alt="page010th (9K)"
        src="images/page010th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page016.jpg"><img
        alt="page016th (10K)" src="images/page016th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page044.jpg"><img alt="page044th (10K)"
        src="images/page044th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page046.jpg"><img
        alt="page046th (10K)" src="images/page046th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page062.jpg"><img alt="page062th (10K)"
        src="images/page062th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page071.jpg"><img
        alt="page071th (9K)" src="images/page071th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page079.jpg"><img alt="page079th (11K)"
        src="images/page079th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page092.jpg"><img
        alt="page092th (7K)" src="images/page092th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page130.jpg"><img alt="page130th (11K)"
        src="images/page130th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page138.jpg"><img
        alt="page138th (12K)" src="images/page138th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page148.jpg"><img alt="page148th (9K)"
        src="images/page148th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page160.jpg"><img
        alt="page160th (11K)" src="images/page160th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page196.jpg"><img alt="page196th (7K)"
        src="images/page196th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page200.jpg"><img
        alt="page200th (8K)" src="images/page200th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page240.jpg"><img alt="page240th (12K)"
        src="images/page240th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page250.jpg"><img
        alt="page250th (11K)" src="images/page250th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page263.jpg"><img alt="page263th (10K)"
        src="images/page263th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page286.jpg"><img
        alt="page286th (12K)" src="images/page286th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page298.jpg"><img alt="page298th (10K)"
        src="images/page298th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page349.jpg"><img
        alt="page349th (9K)" src="images/page349th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page385.jpg"><img alt="page385th (12K)"
        src="images/page385th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page386.jpg"><img
        alt="page386th (9K)" src="images/page386th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page387.jpg"><img alt="page387th (11K)"
        src="images/page387th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page398.jpg"><img
        alt="page398th (11K)" src="images/page398th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page402.jpg"><img alt="page402th (10K)"
        src="images/page402th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page410.jpg"><img
        alt="page410th (11K)" src="images/page410th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a
        href="images/page434.jpg"><img alt="page434th (11K)"
        src="images/page434th.jpg" /></a> <br /><a href="images/page390.jpg"><img
        alt="page390th (10K)" src="images/page390th.jpg" /></a> <br /> <br />
      </p>
    </div>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      Contents
    </h2>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_LIST"> LIST OF THE PLATES </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>REAL LIFE IN LONDON</b></big> </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0001"> CHAPTER XVII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0002"> CHAPTER XVIII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0003"> CHAPTER XIX </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0004"> CHAPTER XX </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0005"> CHAPTER XXI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0006"> CHAPTER XXII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0007"> CHAPTER XXIII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0008"> CHAPTER XXIV </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0009"> CHAPTER XXV </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0010"> CHAPTER XXVI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link22HCH0011"> CHAPTER XXVII </a>
    </p>
    <h3>
      VOLUME II.
    </h3>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link32HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0001"> CHAPTER XV </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0002"> CHAPTER XVI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0003"> CHAPTER XVII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0004"> CHAPTER XVIII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0005"> CHAPTER XIX </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0006"> CHAPTER XX </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0007"> CHAPTER XXI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0008"> CHAPTER XXII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0009"> CHAPTER XXIII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0010"> CHAPTER XXIV </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0011"> CHAPTER XXV </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0012"> CHAPTER XXVI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0013"> CHAPTER XXVII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0014"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0015"> CHAPTER XXIX </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0016"> CHAPTER XXX </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0017"> CHAPTER XXXI </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0018"> CHAPTER XXXII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0019"> CHAPTER XXXIII </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link42HCH0020"> CHAPTER XXXIV </a>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_LIST" id="link2H_LIST">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      List of Illustrations
    </h2>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0001"> Titlepage1 </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0002"> Frontispiece </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0003"> Titlepage </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0004"> Page16 Hyde-park </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0005"> Page44 Epson Racers </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0006"> Page71 Fives Court </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0007"> Page79 The Kings Levee </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0008"> Page92 Catching a Charley Napping </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0009"> Page130 Drury Lane Theatre </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0010"> Page138 Tom and Bob at Drury Lane </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0011"> Page160 Tattersall's </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0012"> Page196 A Modern Hell </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#linkimage-0013"> Page240 Somerset House </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2image-0001"> Page286 Road to a Fight </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2image-0002"> Page298 Real Life at Billingsgate </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2image-0003"> Page385 Political Dinner </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2image-0004"> Page387 The Country Squire </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2image-0005"> Page390 Grand Coronation Dinner </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2image-0006"> Page398 Road to a Fight </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2image-0007"> Page402 A Private Turn-up </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2image-0008"> Page410 Masquerade </a>
    </p>
    <h3>
      VOLUME II.
    </h3>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link3image-0001"> Page10 British Museum </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link3image-0002"> Page46 King's Bench </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link3image-0003"> Page62 Public House </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link3image-0004"> Page130 Blue Ruin Shop </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link3image-0005"> Page148 Almacks </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link3image-0006"> Page196 Easter Hunt </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link3image-0007"> Page200 Donkey Cart Race </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link4image-0001"> Page250.jpg Drury Lane </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link4image-0002"> Page233.jpg St. George's Day </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link4image-0003"> Page349 Ascot Races </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link4image-0004"> Page386 at a Party </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link4image-0005"> Page434.jpg Bull and Mouth Inn </a>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     CONTENTS:

     Chapter I.

     Seduction from rural simplicity, page 2. Pleasures of the
     table, 3. Overpowering oratory, 4. A warm dispute, 5.
     Amicable arrangement, 6.

     Chapter II.

     Philosophical reflections, 7. A great master, 8. Modern
     jehuism, 9. A coach race, 10. A wood-nymph, 11. Improvements
     of the age, 12. An amateur of fashion, 13. Theatrical
     criticism, 14. Reflections, 15.

     Chapter III.

     Hyde Park, and its various characters, 16. Sir F&mdash;&mdash;s B&mdash;&mdash;
     tt, 22, Delightful reverie, 23.

     Chapter IV.

     Fresh game sprung, 24. Lord C&mdash;&mdash;e, alias Coal-hole George,
     25. Rot at Carlton Palace, 28. Once-a-week man, 29. Sunday
     promenader, 30. How to raise the wind, 31. Lord Cripplegate
     and his Cupid, 32. Live fish, 33. Delicacy, 34. A breathless
     visitor, 35.

     Chapter V.

     A fashionable introduction, 36. A sparkling subject, 37. The
     true spur to genius, 38. An agreeable surprise, 39. A
     serious subject, 40. A pleasant fellow, 41. Lively gossip,
     42. Living in style, 43. Modern good breeding, 45. Going to
     see "you know who," 46.

     Chapter VI.

     Early morning amusements, 47. Frightening to death, 48.
     Improvements of the age, 49. Preparing for a swell, 50. The
     acmé of barberism, 51. A fine specimen of the art, 52. Duels
     by Cupid and Apollo, 53. Fashionable news continued, 54. Low
     niggardly notions, 55. Scenes from Barber-Ross-a, 56. A snip
     of the superfine, 59. The enraged Managers, 60. Cutting out,
     and cutting up, 61. The whipstitch mercury, 62. All in the
     wrong again, 63. A Venus de Medicis, 64. Delicacy alarmed,
     65.

     Chapter VII.

     Preparing for a ramble, 66. A man of the town, 67. Bond
     Street, 68. A hanger on, 70. A man of science, 71. Dandyism,
     72. Dandy heroism, 74. Inebriety reproved, 75. My uncle's
     card, 76. St. James's Palace, 77. Pall Mall-Waterloo Place,
     etc., 79. An Irish Paddy, 80. Incorrigible prigs, 81. A hue
     and cry, 82. A capture, 83. A wake, with an Irish howl, 84.
     Vocabulary of the new school, 85. Additional company, 87.

     Chapter VIII.

     Public Office, Bow Street, 88. Irish generosity, 89. A bit
     of gig, 90. "I loves fun," 91. A row with the Charleys, 92.
     Judicial sagacity, 93. Watch-house scenes, 94. A rummish
     piece of business, 95. The Brown Bear well baited, 96.
     Somerset House, 97. An importunate customer, 99.
     Peregrinations proposed, 100.

     Chapter IX.

     The Bonassus, 101. A Knight of the New Order, 102. Medical
     quacks, 103. Medical (not Tailors') Boards, 105. Superlative
     modesty, 106. Hard pulling and blowing, 107. Knightly
     medicals, 108. Buffers and Duffers, 109. Extremes of
     fortune, 110. Signs of the Times, 111. Expensive spree, 112.
     The young Cit, 113. All in confusion, 115. Losses and
     crosses, 116. Rum customers, 117. A genteel hop, 118. Max
     and music, 119. Amateurs and actors, 120. A well-known
     character, 121. Championship, 122. A grand spectacle, 123.
     Adulterations, 124. More important discoveries, 125. Wonders
     of cast-iron and steam, 126. Shops of the new school, 127.
     Irish paper-hanging, 128.

     Chapter X.

     Heterogeneous mass, 129. Attractions of the theatre, 130.
     Tragedy talk, 131. Authors and actors, 132. Chancery
     injunctions, 133. Olympic music, 134. Dandy larks and
     sprees, 135. The Theatre, 136. Its splendid establishment,
     137. Nymphs of the saloon, 138. Torments of love and gout,
     139. Prostitution, 140. A shameful business, 141. Be gone,
     dull care, 142. Convenient refreshment, 143. A lushy cove,
     144. The sleeper awake, 145. All on lire, 146. A short
     parley, 147.

     Chapter XI.

     Fire, confusion and alarm, 148. Snuffy tabbies and boosy
     kids, 149. A cooler for hot disputes, 150. An overturned
     Charley, 151. Resurrection rigs, 152. Studies from life,
     154. An agreeable situation, 155. A nocturnal visit to a
     lady, 156. Sharp's the word, 157. Frolicsome fellows, 158.
     Retirement, 159.

     Chapter XII.

     Tattersall's, 160. Friendly dealings, 161. Laudable company,
     162. The Sportsman's exchange, 163. An unlimited order, 164.
     How to ease heavy pockets, 165. Body-snatchers and Bum-
     traps, 166. The Sharps and the Flats, 167. A secret
     expedition, 168. A pleasant rencontre, 169. Accommodating
     friends, 170. The female banker, 171. A buck of the first
     cut, 172. A highly finished youth, 173. An addition to the
     party, 174.

     Chapter XIII.

     A promenade, 175. Something the matter, 176. Quizzical hits,
     177. London friendship, 178. Fashion versus Reason, 179.
     Dinners of the Ton, 180. Brilliant mob of a ball-room, 181.
     What can the matter be? 182. Something-A-Miss, 183.

     Chapter XIV.

     The centre of attraction, 185. The circulating library, 186.
     Library wit, 187. Fitting on the cap, 188. Breaking up, 189.
     Gaming, 190. Hells-Greeks-Black-legs, 191. How to become a
     Greek, 192. Valuable instructions, 193. Gambling-house à la
     Française, 194. Visitors' cards, 195. Opening scene, 196.
     List of Nocturnal Hells, 197. Rouge et Noir Tables, 198.
     Noon-day Hells, 199. Hell broke up, and the devil to pay,
     200. A story, 202. Swindling Jews, 205. Ups and downs, 206.
     High fellows, 207. Mingled company, 208. Severe studies,
     209.

     Chapter XV.

     Newspaper recreations, 210. Value of Newspapers, 211. Power
     of imagination, 212. Rich bill of fare, 213. Proposed Review
     of the Arts, 214. Demireps and Cyprians, 215. Dashing
     characters, 216. Female accommodations, 217. Rump and dozen,
     218. Maggot race for a hundred, 219. Prime gig, larks and
     sprees, 220. Female jockeyship, 221. Delicate amusements for
     the fair sex, 222. Female life in London, 224. Ciphers in
     society, 225. Ciphers of all sorts, 226. Hydraulics, 227.
     Watery humours, 228. General street engagement, 229. Harmony
     restored, 230.

     Chapter XVI.

     The double disappointment, 231. Heading made easy, 232.
     Exhibition of Engravings, 233. How to cut a dash, 235.
     Dashing attitude, costume, etc., 236. A Dasher-Street-
     walking, etc., 237. Dancing&mdash;"all the go," 238. Exhibition,
     Somerset House, 239. Royal Academy, Somerset House, 240. The
     Sister Arts, 241. Character-Caricature, etc., 242. Moral
     tendency of the Arts, 243. Fresh game sprung, 244. Law and
     Lawyers, 245. Law qualifications, 247. Benchers, 248. Temple
     Libraries-Church, 249. St. Dunstan's Bell-thumpers, 250.
     Political Cobbler, 251. Coffee-houses, 252. Metropolitan
     accommodations, 253. Chop-house delights and recreations,
     254. Daffy's Elixir, Blue Ruin, etc., 256. The Queen's gin-
     shop, 257.

     Chapter XVII.

     Globe Coffee-house, 258. A humorous sort of fellow, 259. A
     Punster, 260. Signals and Signs, 261. Disconcerted
     Professors, 262. A learned Butcher, 263. A successful
     stratagem, 264. A misconception, 265. A picture of London,
     266. All in high glee, 268.

     Chapter XVIII.

     A Slap at Slop, 269. A Nondescript, 270. Romanis, 271. Bow
     steeple-Sir Chris. Wren, 272. The Temple of Apollo, 273.
     Caricatures, 274. Rich stores of literature, 275. Pulpit
     oratory, 276. Seven reasons, 277. Street impostors and
     impositions, 278. Impudent beggars, 280. Wise men of the
     East, 281. A Royal Visitor and Courtier reproved, 282.
     Confusion of tongues, 284. Smoking and drinking, 285.
     Knights of the Round Table, 286. The joys of milling, 287.
     Noses and nosegays, 288. A Bumpkin in town, 289. Piggish
     propensities, 2907 Joys of the bowl, 291.

     Chapter XIX.

     Jolly boys, 292. Dark-house Lane, 293. A breeze sprung up,
     294. Business done in a crack, 295. Billingsgate, 296.
     Refinements in language, 297. Real Life at Billingsgate,
     298. The Female Fancy, 299. The Custom House, Long Room,
     etc., 300. Greeting mine host, 302. A valuable customer,
     303. A public character, 304.

     Chapter xx.

     The Tower of London, 305. Confusion of titles, 306. Interior
     of the Trinity House, 307. Rag Fair commerce, 308. Itinerant
     Jews and Depredators, 309. Lamentable state of the Jews,
     310. Duke's Place and Synagogue, 311. Portuguese Jews, 312.
     Bank of England, 313. An eccentric character, 314.
     Lamentable effects of forgery, 315. Singular alteration of
     mind, 316. Imaginary wealth, 317. Joint Stock Companies,
     318. Auction Mart-Courtois, 319. Irresistible arguments,
     320. Wealth without pride, 321. Royal Exchange, 322. A
     prophecy fulfilled, 323. Lloyd's-Gresham Lecture, etc., 324.
     The essential requisite, 325. Egress by storm, 326.

     Chapter XXI.

     Incident "ad infinitum," 327. A distressed Poet, 328.
     Interesting calculations, 329. Ingenuity in puffing, 330.
     Blacking maker's Lauréat, 331. Miseries of literary
     pursuits, 332. Suttling house, Horse Guards, 333. Merits of
     two heroes, 334. Hibernian eloquence, 335. A pertinacious
     Disputant, 336. Peace restored-Horse Guards, 337. Old
     habits-The Miller's horse, 338. Covent Garden-Modern Drury,
     339 A more than Herculean labour, 340. Police Office scene,
     341. Bartholomew Fair, 342. A Knight of the Needle, 343.
     Variance of opinion, 344. A visit to the Poet, 345. Produce
     of literary pursuits, 346. Quantum versus Quality, 347.
     Publishing by subscription, 348. Wealth and ignorance, 349.
     Mutual gratification, 350.

     Chapter XXII.

     Symptoms of alarm, 351. Parties missing, 352. A strange
     world, 353. Wanted, and must come, 354. Expectation alive,
     355. A cure for melancholy, 356. Real Life a game, 357. The
     game over, 358. Money-dropping arts, 359. Dividing a prize,
     360. The Holy Alliance broke up, 361. New method of Hat
     catching, 362. Dispatching a customer, 363. Laconic
     colloquy, 364. Barkers, 365. A mistake corrected, 366.
     Pawnbrokers, 367. The biter bit, 368. Miseries of
     prostitution, 369. Wardrobe accommodations, 370. New species
     of depredation, 371.

     Chapter XXIII.

     The Lock-up House, 372. Real Life with John Doe, etc., 373.
     Every thing done by proxy, 374. Lottery of marriage, 375.
     Sharp-shooting and skirmishing, 376. A fancy sketch, 377.
     The universal talisman, 378. Living within bounds, 379. How
     to live for ten years, 380. An accommodating host, 381. Life
     in a lock-up house, 382.

     Chapter XXIV.

     A successful election, 383. Patriotic intentions, 384.
     Political dinner, 385. Another bear-garden, 386. Charley's
     theatre, 387. Bear-baiting sports, 388. The coronation, 389.
     Coronation splendour, 390.

     Chapter XXV.

     Fancy sports, 392. Road to a fight, 393. New sentimental
     journey, 394. Travelling chaff, 395. Humours of the road,
     396. Lads of the fancy, 397. Centre of attraction, 398. A
     force march, 399. Getting to work, 400. True game, 401. The
     sublime and beautiful, 402. All's well-good night, 403.

     Chapter XXVI.

     Promenading reflections, 404. Anticipation, 405. Preliminary
     observations, 406. Characters in masquerade, 407. Irish
     sympathy, 408. Whimsicalities of character, 409. Masquerade
     characters, 410. The watchman, 411. New characters, 412. The
     sport alive, 413. Multifarious amusements, 414. Doctors
     disagree, 415. Israelitish honesty, 416.

     Chapter XXVII.

     Ideal enjoyments, 417. A glance at new objects, 418. Street-
     walking nuisances, 419. Cries of London-Mud-larks, etc.,
     420. The Monument, 421. London Stone, 422. General Post-
     Office, 423. Preparations for returning, 424. So endeth the
     volume, 425.
</pre>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      REAL LIFE IN LONDON
    </h2>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER I
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Triumphant returning at night with the spoil,
          Like Bachanals, shouting and gay:
          How sweet with a bottle and song to refresh,
          And lose the fatigues of the day.
          With sport, wit, and wine, fickle fortune defy,
          Dull 'wisdom all happiness sours;
          Since Life is no more than a passage at best,
          Let's strew the way over with flowers.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[1]</span>"THEY order these things better in
      London," replied the Hon. Tom Dashall, to an old weather-beaten sportsman,
      who would fain have made a convert of our London <i>Sprig of Fashion</i>
      to the sports and delights of rural life. The party were regaling
      themselves after the dangers and fatigues of a very hard day's fox-chace;
      and, while the sparkling glass circulated, each, anxious to impress on the
      minds of the company the value of the exploits and amusements in which he
      felt most delight, became more animated and boisterous in his oratory&mdash;forgetting
      that excellent regulation which forms an article in some of the rules and
      orders of our "<i>Free and Easies</i>" in London, "that no more than three
      gentlemen shall be allowed to speak at the same time." The whole party,
      consisting of fourteen, like a pack in full cry, had, with the kind
      assistance of the "rosy god," become at the same moment most animated, not
      to say vociferous, orators. The young squire, Bob Tally ho, (as he was
      called) of Belville Hall, who had recently come into possession of this
      fine and extensive domain, was far from feeling indifferent to the
      pleasures of a sporting life, and, in the chace, had even acquired the
      reputation of being a "keen sportsman:" but the regular intercourse which
      took place between him and his cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall, of Bond
      Street notoriety, had in <span class="pagenum">[2]</span>some measure led
      to an indecision of character, and often when perusing the lively and
      fascinating descriptions which the latter drew of the passing scenes in
      the gay metropolis, Bob would break out into an involuntary exclamation of&mdash;"Curse
      me, but after all, this only is Real Life; "&mdash;while, for the moment,
      horses, dogs, and gun, with the whole paraphernalia of sporting, were
      annihilated. Indeed, to do justice to his elegant and highly-finished
      friend, these pictures were the production of a master-hand, and might
      have made a dangerous impression on minds more stoical and determined than
      that of Bob's. The opera, theatres, fashionable pursuits, characters,
      objects, &amp;c. all became in succession the subjects of his pen; and if
      lively description, blended with irresistible humour and sarcastic wit,
      possessed any power of seduction, these certainly belonged to Bob's
      honourable friend and relative, as an epistolary correspondent. The
      following Stanzas were often recited by him with great feeling and
      animation:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     Parent of Pleasure and of many a groan,
     I should be loath to part with thee, I own,
     Dear Life!
     To tell the truth, I'd rather lose a <i>wife</i>,
     Should Heav'n e'er deem me worthy of possessing
     That best, that most invaluable blessing.
     I thank thee, that thou brought'st me into being;
     The things of this our world are well worth seeing;
     And let me add, moreover, well worth feeling;
     Then what the Devil would people have?
     These gloomy hunters of the grave,
     For ever sighing, groaning, canting, kneeling.
     Some wish they never had been born, how odd!
     To see the handy works of God,
     In sun and moon, and starry sky;
     Though last, not least, to see sweet Woman's charms,&mdash;
     Nay, more, to clasp them in our arms,
     And pour the soul in love's delicious sigh,
     Is well worth coming for, I'm sure,
     Supposing that thou gav'st us nothing more.
     Yet, thus surrounded, Life, dear Life, I'm thine,
     And, could I always call thee mine,
     I would not quickly bid this world farewell;
     But whether here, or long or short my stay,
     I'll keep in mind for ev'ry day
     An old French motto, "<i>Vive la bagatelle!</i>"
     Misfortunes are this lottery-world's sad blanks;
     Presents, in my opinion, not worth thanks.
     The pleasures are the twenty thousand prizes,
     Which nothing but a <i>downright ass</i> despises.
</pre>
    <p>
      It was not, however, the mere representations of Bob's friend, with which,
      (in consequence of the important result,) we commenced our chapter, that
      produced the powerful effect of fixing the wavering mind of Bob&mdash;No,
      it was the air&mdash;the manner&mdash;the <i>je ne sais quoi</i>, by which
      these representations were accompanied: the curled lip of contempt, and
      the eye, measuring as he spoke, from top to toe, his companions, with the
      cool elegant sang froid and self-possession displayed in his own person
      and manner, which became a <i>fiat</i> with Bob, and which effected the
      object so long courted by his cousin.
    </p>
    <p>
      After the manner of Yorick (though, by the bye, no sentimentalist) Bob
      thus reasoned with himself:&mdash;"If an acquaintance with London is to
      give a man these airs of superiority&mdash;this ascendancy&mdash;elegance
      of manners, and command of enjoyments&mdash;why, London for me; and if
      pleasure is the game in view, there will I instantly pursue the sport."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[3]</span>The song and toast, in unison with the
      sparkling glass, followed each other in rapid succession. During which,
      our elegant London visitor favoured the company with the following
      effusion, sung in a style equal to (though unaccompanied with the affected
      airs and self-importance of) a first-rate professor:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     SONG.

     If to form and distinction, in town you would bow,
     Let appearance of wealth be your care:
     If your friends see you live, not a creature cares how,
     The question will only be, Where?
     A circus, a polygon, crescent, or place,
     With ideas of magnificence tally;
     Squares are common, streets queer, but a lane's a disgrace;
     And we've no such thing as an alley.
     A first floor's pretty well, and a parlour so so;
     But, pray, who can give themselves airs,
     Or mix with high folks, if so vulgarly low
     To live up in a two pair of stairs?
     The garret, excuse me, I mean attic floor,
     (That's the name, and it's right you should know it,)
     Would he tenantless often; but genius will soar,
     And it does very well for a poet.
</pre>
    <p>
      These amusements of the table were succeeded by a most stormy and
      lengthened debate, (to use a parliamentary phrase) during which, Bob's
      London friend had with daring heroism opposed the whole of the party, in
      supporting the superiority of Life in London over every pleasure the
      country could afford. After copious libations to Bacchus, whose influence
      at length effected what oratory had in vain essayed, and silenced these
      contending and jarring elements, "grey-eyed Morn" peeped intrusively amid
      the jovial crew, and Somnus, (with the cart before the horse) stepping
      softly on tip-toe after his companion, led, if not by, at least
      accompanied with, the music of the nose, each to his snoring pillow.<span
      class="pagenum">[4]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      &mdash;&mdash;"Glorious resolve!" exclaimed Tom, as soon as his friend had
      next morning intimated his intention,&mdash;"nobly resolved indeed!&mdash;"What!
      shall he whom Nature has formed to shine in the dance and sparkle in the
      ring&mdash;to fascinate the fair&mdash;lead and control the fashions&mdash;attract
      the gaze and admiration of the surrounding crowd!&mdash;shall he pass a
      life, or rather a torpid existence, amid country bumpkins and Johnny-raws?
      Forbid it all ye powers that rule with despotic sway where Life alone is
      to be found,&mdash;forbid it cards&mdash;dice&mdash;balls&mdash;fashion,
      and ye gay et coteras,&mdash;forbid"&mdash;&mdash;"Pon my soul,"
      interrupted Bob, "you have frightened me to death! I thought you were
      beginning an Epic,&mdash;a thing I abominate of all others. I had rather
      at any time follow the pack on a foundered horse than read ten lines of
      Homer; so, my dear fellow, descend for God's sake from the Heroics."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Calmly let me, at least, begin Life's chapter,
          Not panting for a hurricane of rapture;
          Calm let me step&mdash;not riotous and jumping:
          With due decorum, let my heart
          Try to perform a sober part,
          Not at the ribs be ever bumping&mdash;bumping.
          Rapture's a charger&mdash;often breaks his girt,
          Runs oft", and flings his rider in the dirt.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[5]</span>"However, it shall be so: adieu, my dear
      little roan filly,&mdash;Snow-ball, good by,&mdash;my new patent
      double-barrelled percussion&mdash;ah, I give you all up!&mdash;Order the
      tandem, my dear Tom, whenever you please; whisk me up to the fairy scenes
      you have so often and admirably described; and, above all things, take me
      as an humble and docile pupil under your august auspices and tuition."
      Says Tom, "thou reasonest well."
    </p>
    <p>
      The rapidity with which great characters execute their determinations has
      been often remarked by authors. The dashing tandem, with its beautiful
      high-bred bits of blood, accompanied by two grooms on horsebaek in
      splendid liveries, stood at the lodge-gate, and our heroes had only to bid
      adieu to relatives and friends, and commence their rapid career.
    </p>
    <p>
      Before we start on this long journey of one hundred and eighty miles, with
      the celerity which is unavoidable in modern travelling, it may be prudent
      to ascertain that our readers are still in company, and that we all start
      fairly together; otherwise, there is but little probability of our ever
      meeting again on the journey;&mdash;so now to satisfy queries, remarks,
      and animadversions.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, Sir, I must say it is a new way of introducing a story, and appears
      to me very irregular.&mdash;What! tumble your hero neck and heels into the
      midst of a drunken fox-hunting party, and then carry him off from his
      paternal estate, without even noticing his ancestors, relatives, friends,
      connexions, or prospects&mdash;without any description of romantic scenery
      on the estate&mdash;without so much as an allusion to the female who first
      kindled in his breast the tender passion, or a detail of those incidents
      with which it is usually connected!&mdash;a strange, very strange way
      indeed this of commencing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "My dear Sir, I agree with you as to the deviation from customary rules:
      but allow me to ask,&mdash;is not one common object&mdash;amusement, all
      we have in view? Suppose then, by way of illustration, you were desirous
      of arriving at a given place or object, to which there were several roads,
      and having traversed one of these till the monotony of the scene had
      rendered every object upon it dull and wearisome, would you quarrel with
      the traveller who pointed out another road, merely because it was a new
      one? Considering the impatience of our young friends, the one to return to
      scenes in which alone he can <span class="pagenum">[6]</span>live, and the
      other to realize ideal dreams of happiness, painted in all the glowing
      tints that a warm imagination and youthful fancy can pourtray, it will be
      impossible longer to continue the argument. Let me, therefore, entreat you
      to cut it short&mdash;accompany us in our rapid pursuit after Life in
      London; nor risk for the sake of a little peevish criticism, the cruel
      reflection, that by a refusal, you would, probably, be in <i>at the death</i>
      of the Author&mdash;by Starvation."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER II
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "The panting steed the hero's empire feel,
     Who sits triumphant o'er the flying wheel,
     And as he guides it through th' admiring throng,
     With what an air he holds the reins, and smacks the silken thong!"
</pre>
    <p>
      ORDINARY minds, in viewing distant objects, first see the obstacles that
      intervene, magnify the difficulty of surmounting them, and sit down in
      despair. The man of genius with his mind's-eye pointed steadfastly, like
      the needle towards the pole, on the object of his ambition, meets and
      conquers every difficulty in detail, and the mass dissolves before him as
      the mountain snow yields, drop by drop, to the progressive but invincible
      operation of the solar beam. Our honourable friend was well aware that a
      perfect knowledge of the art of driving, and the character of a "<i>first-rate
      whip</i>," were objects worthy his ambition; and that, to hold
      four-in-hand&mdash;turn a corner in style&mdash;handle the reins in form&mdash;take
      a fly off the tip of his leader's ear&mdash;square the elbows, and keep
      the wrists pliant, were matters as essential to the formation of a man of
      fashion as <i>dice or milling</i>: it was a principle he had long laid
      down and strictly adhered to, that whatever tended to the completion of
      that character, should be acquired to the very acmé of perfection, without
      regard to ulterior consequences, or minor pursuits.
    </p>
    <p>
      In an early stage, therefore, of his fashionable course of studies, the
      whip became an object of careful solicitude; and after some private
      tuition, he first exhibited his prowess about twice a week, on the box of
      a Windsor stage, tipping coachy a crown for the indulgence and improvement
      it afforded. Few could boast of being more fortunate during a noviciate:
      two overturns only occurred in the whole course of practice, and except
      the trifling accident of an old lady being killed, a shoulder or two
      dislocated, and about half a dozen legs and arms <span class="pagenum">[8]</span>broken,
      belonging to people who were not at all known in high life, nothing worthy
      of notice may be said to have happened on these occasions. 'Tis true, some
      ill-natured remarks appeared in one of the public papers, on the "conduct
      of coachmen entrusting the reins to young practitioners, and thus
      endangering the lives of his majesty's subjects;" but these passed off
      like other philanthropic suggestions of the day, unheeded and forgotten.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next advance of our hero was an important step. The mail-coach is
      considered the school; its driver, the great master of the art&mdash;the
      <i>Phidias</i> of the statuary&mdash;the <i>Claude</i> of the
      landscape-painter. To approach him without preparatory instruction and
      study, would be like an attempt to copy the former without a knowledge of
      anatomy, or the latter, while ignorant of perspective. The standard of
      excellence&mdash;the model of perfection, all that the highest ambition
      can attain, is to approach as near as possible the original; to attempt a
      deviation, would be to <i>bolt out of the course, snap the curb, and run
      riot</i>. Sensible of the importance of his character, accustomed to hold
      the reins of arbitrary power; and seated where will is law, the mail-whip
      carries in his appearance all that may be expected from his elevated
      situation. Stern and sedate in his manner, and given to taciturnity, he
      speaks sententiously, or in monosyllables. If he passes on the road even
      an humble follower of the profession, with four tidy ones in hand, he
      views him with ineffable contempt, and would consider it an irreparable
      disgrace to appear conscious of the proximity. Should it be a country
      gentleman of large property and influence, and he held the reins, and
      handled the whip with a knowledge of the art, so to "get over the ground,"
      coachy might, perhaps, notice him "<i>en passant</i>," by a slight and
      familiar nod; but it is only the peer, or man of first-rate sporting
      celebrity, that is honoured with any thing like a familiar mark of
      approbation and acquaintance; and these, justly appreciating the proud
      distinction, feel higher gratification by it than any thing the monarch
      could bestow: it is an inclination of the head, not forward, in the manner
      of a nod, but towards the off shoulder, accompanied with a certain jerk
      and elevation from the opposite side. But here neither pen nor pencil can
      depict; it belongs to him alone whose individual powers can nightly keep
      the house <span class="pagenum">[9]</span>in a roar, to catch the living
      manner and present it to the eye.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;A merrier man

          Within the limit of becoming mirth,
          I never spent an hour's talk withall:
          His eye begets occasion for his wit;
          For every object that the one doth catch
          The other turns to a mirth-moving jest."
</pre>
    <p>
      And now, gentle reader, if the epithet means any thing, you cannot but
      feel disposed to good humour and indulgence: Instead of rattling you off,
      as was proposed at our last interview, and whirling you at the rate of
      twelve miles an hour, exhausted with fatigue, and half <i>dead</i> in
      pursuit of <i>Life</i>, we have proceeded gently along the road, amusing
      ourselves by the way, rather with drawing than driving. 'Tis high time,
      however, we made some little progress in our journey: "Come Bob, take the
      reins&mdash;push on&mdash;keep moving&mdash;touch up the leader into a
      hand-gallop&mdash;give Snarler his head&mdash;that's it my tight one, keep
      out of the ruts&mdash;mind your quartering&mdash;not a gig, buggy, tandem,
      or tilbury, have we yet seen on the road&mdash;what an infernal place for
      a human being to inhabit!&mdash;curse me if I had not as lief emigrate to
      the back settlements of America: one might find some novelty and amusement
      there&mdash;I'd have the woods cleared&mdash;cut out some turnpike-roads,
      and, like Palmer, start the first mail"&mdash;&mdash;"Stop, Tom, don't set
      off yet to the Illinois&mdash;here's something ahead, but what the devil
      it is I cant guess&mdash;why it's a barge on wheels, and drove
      four-in-hand."&mdash;"Ha, ha&mdash;barge indeed, Bob, you seem to know as
      much about coaches as Snarler does of Back-gammon: I suppose you never see
      any thing in this quarter but the old heavy Bridgewater&mdash;why we have
      half a dozen new launches every week, and as great a variety of names,
      shape, size, and colour, as there are ships in the navy&mdash;we have the
      heavy coach, light coach, Caterpillar, and Mail&mdash;the Balloon, Comet,
      Fly, Dart, Regulator, Telegraph, Courier, Times, High-flyer, Hope, with as
      many others as would fill a list as long as my tandem-whip. What you now
      see is one of the <i>new patent safety-coaches</i>&mdash;you can't have an
      overturn if you're ever so disposed for a spree. The old city cormorants,
      after a gorge of mock-turtle, turn into them for a journey, and drop off
      in a <span class="pagenum">[10]</span>nap, with as much confidence of
      security to their neck and limbs as if they had mounted a rocking-horse,
      or drop't into an arm-chair."&mdash;"Ah! come, the scene improves, and
      becomes a little like Life&mdash;here's a dasher making up to the Safety&mdash;why
      its&mdash;no, impossible&mdash;can't be&mdash;gad it is tho'&mdash;the
      Dart, by all that's good! and drove by Hell-fire Dick!&mdash;there's a
      fellow would do honour to any box&mdash;drove the Cambridge Fly three
      months&mdash;pass'd every thing on the road, and because he overturned in
      three or four hard matches, the stupid rascals of proprietors moved him
      off the ground. Joe Spinum, who's at Corpus Christi, matched Dick once for
      50, when he carried five inside and thirteen at top, besides heavy
      luggage, against the other Cambridge&mdash;never was a prettier race seen
      at Newmarket&mdash;Dick must have beat hollow, but a d&mdash;&mdash;d fat
      alderman who was inside, and felt alarmed at the velocity of the vehicle,
      moved to the other end of the seat: this destroyed the equilibrium&mdash;over
      they went, into a four-feet ditch, and Joe lost his match. However, he had
      the satisfaction of hearing afterwards, that the old cormorant who
      occasioned his loss, had nearly burst himself by the concussion."
    </p>
    <p>
      "See, see!&mdash;Dick's got up to, and wants to give the Safety the go by&mdash;gad,
      its a race&mdash;go it Dick&mdash;now Safety&mdash;d&mdash;&mdash;d good
      cattle both&mdash;lay it in to 'em Dick&mdash;leaders neck and neck&mdash;pretty
      race by G&mdash;&mdash;! Ah, its of no use Safety&mdash;Dick wont stand it&mdash;a
      dead beat&mdash;there she goes&mdash;all up&mdash;over by Jove "&mdash;&mdash;"I
      can't see for that tree&mdash;what do you say Tom, is the race over?"&mdash;"Race,
      ah! and the coach too&mdash;knew Dick would beat him&mdash;would have
      betted the long odds the moment I saw it was him."
    </p>
    <p>
      The tandem had by this time reached the race-course, and the disaster
      which Tom had hardly thought worth noticing in his lively description of
      the sport, sure enough had befallen the <i>new 'patent Safety</i>, which
      was about mid way between an upright and a side position, supported by the
      high and very strong quicksett-hedge against which it hath fallen. Our
      heroes dismounted, left Flip at the leader's head, and with Ned, the other
      groom, proceeded to offer their services. Whilst engaged in extricating
      the horses, which had become entangled in their harness, and were kicking
      and plunging, their attention was arrested by the screams and outrageous
      vociferations of a very fat, middle-aged woman, who had <span
      class="pagenum">[11]</span>been jerked from her seat on the box to one not
      quite so smooth&mdash;the top of the hedge, which, with the assistance of
      an old alder tree, supported the coach. Tom found it impossible to resist
      the violent impulse to risibility which the ludicrous appearance of the
      old lady excited, and as no serious injury was sustained, determined to
      enjoy the fun.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "If e'er a pleasant mischief sprang to view,
          At once o'er hedge and ditch away he flew,
          Nor left the game till he had run it down."
</pre>
    <p>
      Approaching her with all the gravity of countenance he was master of&mdash;"Madam,"
      says he, "are we to consider you as one of the Sylvan Deities who preside
      over these scenes, or connected in any way with the vehicle?"&mdash;"Wehicle,
      indeed, you <i>hunhuman-brutes</i>, instead of assisting a poor distressed
      female who has been chuck'd from top of that there <i>safety-thing</i>, as
      they calls it, into such a dangerous <i>pisition</i>, you must be
      chuckling and grinning, must you? I only wish my husband, Mr. Giblet, was
      here, he should soon wring your necks, and pluck some of your fine
      feathers for you, and make you look as foolish as a peacock without his
      tail." Mrs. Giblet's ire at length having subsided, she was handed down in
      safety on <i>terra firma</i>, and our heroes transferred their assistance
      to the other passengers. The violence of the concussion had burst open the
      coach-door on one side, and a London <i>Dandy</i>, of the exquisite genus,
      lay in danger of being pressed to a jelly beneath the weight of an infirm
      and very stout old farmer, whom they had pick'd up on the road; and it was
      impossible to get at, so as to afford relief to the sufferers, till the
      coach was raised in a perpendicular position. The farmer was no sooner on
      his legs, than clapping his hand with anxious concern into an immense
      large pocket, he discovered that a bottle of brandy it contained was
      crack'd, and the contents beginning to escape: "I ax pardon, young
      gentleman," says he, seizing a hat that the latter held with great care in
      his hand, and applying it to catch the liquor&mdash;"I ax pardon for
      making so free, but I see the hat is a little out of order, and can't be
      much hurt; and its a pity to waste the liquor, such a price as it is
      now-a-days."&mdash;"Sir, what do you mean, shouldn't have thought of your
      taking such liberties indeed, but makes good the old saying&mdash;impudence
      and <span class="pagenum">[12]</span>ignorance go together: my hat out of
      order, hey! I'd have you to know, Sir, that <i>that there</i> hat was
      bought of Lloyd, in Newgate-street,{1} only last Thursday,-and cost
      eighteen shillings; and if you look at the book in his <i>vindow</i> on
      hats, dedicated to the head, you'll find that this here hat is a real
      exquisite; so much for what you know about hats, my old fellow&mdash;I
      burst my stays all to pieces in saving it from being squeezed out of
      shape, and now this old brute has made a brandy-bottle of it."&mdash;"Oh!
      oh! my young Miss in disguise," replied the farmer, "I thought I smelt a
      rat when the Captain left the coach, under pretence of walking up the hill&mdash;what,
      I suppose vou are bound for Gretna, both of vou, hev young Lady?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Every thing appertaining to the coach being now righted, our young friends
      left the company to adjust their quarrels and pursue their journey at
      discretion, anxious to reach the next town as expeditiously as possible,
      where they purposed sleeping for the night. They mounted the tandem, smack
      went the whip, and in a few minutes the stage-coach and its motley group
      had disappeared.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having reached their destination, and passed the night comfortably, they
      next morning determined to kill an hour or two in the town; and were
      taking a stroll arm in arm, when perceiving by a playbill, that an amateur
      of fashion from the theatres royal, Drury Lane and Haymarket, was just <i>come
      in</i>, and would shortly <i>come out</i>,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 It would be injustice to great talents, not to notice,
     among other important discoveries and improvements of the
     age, the labours of Lloyd, who has classified and arranged
     whatever relates to that necessary article of personal
     elegance, the Hat. He has given the world a volume on the
     subject of Hats, dedicated to their great patron, the Head,
     in which all the endless varieties of shape, dependent
     before on mere whim and caprice, are reduced to fixed
     principles, and designated after the great characters by
     which each particular fashion was first introduced. The
     advantages to gentlemen residing in the country must be
     incalculable: they have only to refer to the engravings in
     Mr. Lloyd's work, where every possible variety is clearly
     defined, and to order such as may suit the rank or character
     in life they either possess, or wish to assume. The
     following enumeration comprises a few of the latest fashions:
     &mdash;The Wellington&mdash;The Regent&mdash;The Caroline&mdash;The
     Bashful&mdash;The Dandy&mdash;The Shallow&mdash;The Exquisite&mdash;The Marquis
     &mdash;The New Dash&mdash;The Clerieus&mdash;The Tally-ho&mdash;The Noble Lord&mdash;
     The Taedum&mdash;The Bang-up&mdash;The Irresistible&mdash;The Bon Ton&mdash;The
     Paris Beau&mdash;The Baronet&mdash;The Eccentric&mdash;The Bit of Blood,
     &amp;c.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[13]</span>in a favourite character, they
      immediately directed their steps towards a barn, with the hope of
      witnessing a rehearsal. Chance introduced them to the country manager, and
      Tom having asked several questions about this candidate, was assured by
      Mr. Mist:
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh! he is a gentleman-performer, and very useful to us managers, for he
      not only finds his own dresses and properties, but 'struts and frets his
      hour on the stage without any emoluments. His aversion to salary
      recommended him to the lessee of Drury-lane theatre, though his services
      had been previously rejected by the sub-committee."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Can it be that game-cock, the gay Lothario," said Tom, "who sports an
      immensity of diamonds?"&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Of Coates's frolics he of course well knew, Rare pastime for the
      ragamuffin crew! Who welcome with the crowing of a cock, This hero of the
      buskin and sock.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh! no," rejoined Mr. Mist, "that cock don't crow now: this gentleman, I
      assure you, has been at a theatrical school; he was instructed by the
      person who made Master Bettv a young Roscius."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom shook his head, as if he doubted the abilities of this instructed
      actor. To be a performer, he thought as arduous as to be a poet; and if <i>poeta
      nascitur, non fit</i>&mdash;consequently an actor must have natural
      abilities.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And pray what character did this gentleman enact at Drury-lane Theatre?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hamlet, Prince of Denmark," answered Mr. Mist&mdash;"Shakespeare is his
      favourite author."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And what said the critics&mdash;'to be, or not to be'&mdash;I suppose he
      repeated the character?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh! Sir, it was stated in the play-bill, that he met with great applause,
      and he was announced for the character again; but, as the Free List was
      not suspended, and our amateur dreaded some hostility from that quarter,
      he performed the character by proxy, and repeated it at the Little Theatre
      in the Haymarket."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then the gentlemen of the Free List," remarked Bob, "are free and easy?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;they laugh and cough whenever they please: indeed,
      they are generally excluded whenever a <span class="pagenum">[14]</span>full
      house is expected, as <i>ready money</i> is an object to the poor manager
      of Drury-lane Theatre. The British Press, however, is always excepted."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The British press!&mdash;Oh! you mean the newspapers," exclaimed Tom&mdash;"then
      I dare say they were very favourable to this Amateur of Fashion?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No&mdash;not very&mdash;indeed; they don't join the manager in his puffs,
      notwithstanding his marked civility to them: one said he was a methodist
      preacher, and sermonized the character&mdash;another assimilated him to a
      school-boy saying his lesson&mdash;in short, they were very ill-natured&mdash;but
      hush&mdash;here he is&mdash;walk in, gentlemen, and you shall hear him
      rehearse some of King Richard"&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "King Richard!" What ambition! thought Bob to himself&mdash;"late a
      Prince, and now&mdash;a king!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I assure you," continued Mr. Mist, "that all his readings are new; but
      according to my humble observation, his action does not always suit the
      word&mdash;for when he exclaims&mdash;' may Hell make crook'd my mind,' he
      looks up to Heaven"&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Looks up to Heaven!" exclaimed Tom; "then this London star makes a
      solecism with his eyes."
    </p>
    <p>
      Our heroes now went into the barn, and took a private corner, when they
      remained invisible. Their patience was soon exhausted, and Bob and his
      honourable cousin were both on the fidgits, when the representative of
      King Richard exclaimed&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Give me a horse&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "&mdash;Whip!" added Tom with stunning vociferation, before King Richard
      could bind up his wounds. The amateur started, and betrayed consummate
      embarrassment, as if the horsewhip had actually made its entrance. Tom and
      his companion stole away, and left the astounded monarch with the words&mdash;"twas
      all a dream."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
While returning to the inn, our heroes mutually commented on the
ambition and folly of those amateurs of fashion, who not only sacrifice
time and property, but absolutely take abundant pains to render
themselves ridiculous. "Certainly," says Tom, "this <i>cacoethes ludendi</i>
has made fools of several: this infatuated youth though not possessed
of a single requisite for the stage, no doubt flatters himself he is
a second Kean; and, regardless <span class="pagenum">[15]</span>of his birth and family, he will
continue his strolling life

     Till the broad shame comes staring in his face,
     And critics hoot the blockhead as he struts."
</pre>
    <p>
      Having now reached the inn, and finding every thing adjusted for their
      procedure, our heroes mounted their vehicle, and went in full gallop for
      Real Life in London.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER III
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Round, round, and round-about, they whiz, they fly,
          With eager worrying, whirling here and there,
          They know, nor whence, nor whither, where, nor why.
          In utter hurry-scurry, going, coming,
          Maddening the summer air with ceaseless humming."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[16]</span>OUR travellers now approached at a rapid
      rate, the desideratim of their eager hopes and wishes: to one all was
      novel, wonderful, and fascinating; to the other, it was the welcome return
      to an old and beloved friend, the separation from whom had but increased
      the ardour of attachment.&mdash;"We, now," says Dashall, "are approaching
      Hyde-Park, and being Sunday, a scene will at once burst upon you, far
      surpassing in reality any thing I have been able to pourtray,
      notwithstanding the flattering compliments you have so often paid to my
      talents for description."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="Page16 Hyde-park" src="images/page016.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      They had scarcely entered the Park-gate, when Lady Jane Townley's carriage
      crossed them, and Tom immediately approached it, to pay his respects to an
      old acquaintance. Her lady-ship congratulated him on his return to town,
      lamented the serious loss the <i>beau-monde</i> had sustained by his
      absence, and smiling archly at his young friend, was happy to find he had
      not returned empty-handed, but with a recruit, whose appearance promised a
      valuable accession to their select circle. "You would not have seen me
      here," continued her ladyship, "but I vow and protest it is utterly
      impossible to make a prisoner of one's self, such a day as this, merely
      because it is Sunday&mdash;for my own part, I wish there was no such thing
      as a Sunday in the whole year&mdash;there's no knowing what to do with
      one's self. When fine, it draws out as many insects as a hot sun and a
      shower of rain can produce in the middle of June. The vulgar plebeians
      flock so, that you can scarcely get into your barouche without being
      hustled by the men-milliners, linen-drapers, and shop-boys, who <span
      class="pagenum">[17]</span>have been serving you all the previous part of
      the week; and wet, or dry, there's no bearing it. For my part, I am <i>ennuyée</i>,
      beyond measure, on that day, and find no little difficulty in getting
      through it without a fit of the horrors.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What a legion of counter-coxcombs!" exclaimed she, as we passed
      Grosvenor-gate. "Upon the plunder of the till, or by overcharging some
      particular article sold on the previous day, it is easy for these <i>once-a-week</i>
      beaux to hire a tilbury, and an awkward groom in a pepper and salt, or
      drab coat, like the <i>incog.</i> of the royal family, to mix with their
      betters and sport their persons in the drive of fashion: some of the
      monsters, too, have the impudence of bowing to ladies whom they do not
      know, merely to give them an air, or pass off their customers for their
      acquaintance: its very distressing. There!" continued she, "there goes my
      plumassier, with gilt spurs like a field-officer, and riding as
      importantly as if he were one of the Lords of the Treasury; or&mdash;ah!
      there, again, is my banker's clerk, so stiff and so laced up, that he
      might pass for an Egyptian mummy&mdash;the self-importance of these
      puppies is insufferable! What impudence! he has picked up some groom out
      of place, with a cockade in his hat, by way of imposing on the world for a
      <i>beau militaire</i>. What will the world come to! I really have not
      common patience with these creatures. I have long since left off going to
      the play on a Saturday night, because, independently of my preference for
      the Opera, these insects from Cornhill or Whitechapel, shut up their
      shops, cheat their masters, and commence their airs of importance about
      nine o'clock. Then again you have the same party crowding the Park on a
      Sunday; but on the following day, return, like school boys, to their work,
      and you see them with their pen behind their ear, calculating how to make
      up for their late extravagances, pestering you with lies, and urging you
      to buy twice as much as you want, then officiously offering their arm at
      your carriage-door."
    </p>
    <p>
      Capt. Bergamotte at this moment came up to the carriage, perfumed like a
      milliner, his colour much heightened by some vegetable dye, and resolved
      neither to "blush unseen," nor "waste his sweetness on the desert air."
      Two false teeth in front, shamed the others a little in their ivory
      polish, and his breath savoured of myrrh like a heathen sacrifice, or the
      incense burned in <span class="pagenum">[18]</span>one of their temples.
      He thrust his horse's head into the carriage, rather abruptly and
      indecorously, (as one not accustomed to the haut-ton might suppose) but it
      gave no offence. He smiled affectedly, adjusted his hat, pulled a lock of
      hair across his forehead, with a view of shewing the whiteness of the
      latter, and next, that the glossiness of the former must have owed its
      lustre to at least two hours brushing, arranging, and perfuming; used his
      quizzing-glass, and took snuff with a flourish. Lady Townley condescended
      to caress the horse, and to display her lovely white arm ungloved, with
      which she patted the horse's neck, and drew a hundred admiring eyes.
    </p>
    <p>
      The exquisite all this time brushed the animal gently with a
      highly-scented silk handkerchief, after which he displayed a cambric one,
      and went through a thousand little playful airs and affectations, which
      Bob thought would have suited a fine lady better than a lieutenant in his
      Majesty's brigade of guards. Applying the lines of an inimitable satire,
      (The Age of Frivolity) to the figure before him, he concluded:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "That gaudy dress and decorations gay,
          The tinsel-trappings of a vain array.
          The spruce trimm'd jacket, and the waving plume,
          The powder'd head emitting soft perfume;
          These may make fops, but never can impart
          The soldier's hardy frame, or daring heart;
          May in Hyde-Park present a splendid train,
          But are not weapons for a dread campaign;
          May please the fair, who like a tawdry beau,
          But are not fit to check an active foe;
          Such heroes may acquire sufficient skill
          To march erect, and labour through a drill;
          In some sham-fight may manfully hold out,
          But must not hope an enemy to rout."
</pre>
    <p>
      Although he talked a great deal, the whole amount of his discourse was to
      inform her Ladyship that (<i>Stilletto</i>) meaning his horse, (who in
      truth appeared to possess more fire and spirit than his rider could either
      boast of or command,) had cost him only 700 guineas, and was <i>prime
      blood</i>; that the horse his groom rode, was <i>nothing but a </i>good
      one<i>, and had run at the </i>Craven&mdash;that he had been prodigiously
      fortunate that season on the turf&mdash;that he was a bold rider, and
      could not bear himself without a fine high spirited animal&mdash;and, that
      being engaged to dine at <span class="pagenum">[19]</span>three places
      that day, he was desperately at a loss to know how he should act; but that
      if her Ladyship dined at any one of the three, he would certainly join
      that party, and <i>cut</i> the other two.
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment, a mad-brained ruffian of quality, with a splendid
      equipage, came driving by with four in hand, and exclaimed as he flew
      past, in an affected tone,&mdash;"All! Tom, my dear fellow,&mdash;why
      where the devil have you hid yourself of late?" The speed of his cattle
      prevented the possibility of reply. "Although you see him in such
      excellent trim," observed Tom to Lady Jane, "though his cattle and
      equipage are so well appointed, would you suppose, it, he has but just
      made his appearance from the Bench after <i>white-washing?</i> But he is a
      noble spirited fellow," remarked the exquisite, "drives the best horses,
      and is one of the first whips in town; always gallant and gay, full of
      life and good humour; and, I am happy to say, he has now a dozen of as
      fine horses as any in Christendom, <i>bien entendu</i>, kept in my name."
      After this explanation of the characters of his friend and his horses, he
      kissed his hand to her Ladyship, and was out of sight in an instant,
      "Adieu, adieu, thou dear, delightful sprig of fashion!" said Lady Jane, as
      he left the side of the carriage.&mdash;"Fashion and folly," said Tom,
      half whispering, and recalling to his mind the following lines:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Oh! Fashion, to thy wiles, thy votaries owe
          Unnumber'd pangs of sharp domestic woe.
          What broken tradesmen and abandon'd wives
          Curse thy delusion through their wretched lives;
          What pale-faced spinsters vent on thee their rage,
          And youths decrepid e're they come of age."
</pre>
    <p>
      His moralizing reverie was however interrupted by her Ladyship, who
      perceiving a group of females decked in the extreme of Parisian fashions,
      "there," said she, "there is all that taffeta, feathers, flowers, and lace
      can do; and yet you see by their loud talking, their being unattended by a
      servant, and by the bit of straw adhering to the pettycoat of one of them,
      that they come all the way from Fish Street Hill, or the Borough, in a
      hackney-coach, and are now trying to play off the airs of women of
      fashion."
    </p>
    <p>
      Mrs. Marvellous now drew up close to the party. "My dear Lady Jane," said
      she, "1 am positively suffocated with dust, and sickened with vulgarity;
      but to be sure we <span class="pagenum">[20]</span>have every thing in
      London here, from the House of Peers to Waterloo House. I must tell you
      about the trial, and Lady Barbara's mortification, and about poor Mr. R.'s
      being arrested, and the midnight flight to the Continent of our poor
      friend W&mdash;&mdash;."
    </p>
    <p>
      With this brief, but at the same time comprehensive introduction, she
      lacerated the reputation of almost all her acquaintance, and excited great
      attention from the party, which had been joined by several during her
      truly interesting intelligence. Every other topic in a moment gave way to
      this delightful amusement, and each with volubility contributed his or her
      share to the general stock of slander.
    </p>
    <p>
      Scandal is at all times the <i>sauce piquante</i> that <i>currys</i>
      incident in every situation; and where is the fashionable circle that can
      sit down to table without made dishes?&mdash;Character is the good
      old-fashioned roast beef of the table, which no one touches but to mangle
      and destroy.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Lord! who'd have thought our cousin D
          Could think of marrying Mrs. E.
          True I don't like such things to tell;
          But, faith, I pity Mrs. L,
          And was I her, the bride to vex,
          I would engage with Mrs. X.
          But they do say that Charlotte U,
          With Fanny M, and we know who,
          Occasioned all, for you must know
          They set their caps at Mr. O.
          And as he courted Mrs. E,
          They thought, if she'd have cousin D,
          That things might be by Colonel A
          Just brought about in their own way."
</pre>
    <p>
      Our heroes now took leave, and proceeded through the Park. "Who is that
      fat, fair, and forty-looking dame, in the landau?" says Bob.&mdash;"Your
      description shews," rejoined his friend, "you are but a novice in the
      world of fashion&mdash;you are deceived, that lady is as much made up as a
      wax-doll. She has been such as she now appears to be for these last five
      and twenty years; her figure as you see, rather en-bon point, is friendly
      to the ravages of time, and every lineament of age is artfully filled up
      by an expert fille de chambre, whose time has been employed at the
      toilette of a celebrated devotee in Paris. She drives through the Park as
      a matter of course, merely to furnish an opportunity for saying that she
      has been there: but the more important business of the morning will be
      transacted <span class="pagenum">[21]</span>at her boudoir, in the King's
      Road, where every luxury is provided to influence the senses; and where,
      by daily appointment, she is expected to meet a sturdy gallant. She is a
      perfect Messalina in her enjoyments; but her rank in society protects her
      from sustaining any injury by her sentimental wanderings.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you see that tall handsome man on horseback, who has just taken off
      his hat to her, he is a knight of the ... ribbon; and a well-known
      flutterer among the ladies, as well as a vast composer of pretty little
      nothings."&mdash;"Indeed! and pray, cousin, do you see that lady of
      quality, just driving in at the gate in a superb yellow vis-à-vis,&mdash;as
      you seem to know every body, who is she?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha! ha! ha!" replied Tom, almost bursting with laughter, yet endeavouring
      to conceal it, "that Lady of Quality, as you are inclined to think her, a
      very few years since, was nothing more than a pot-girl to a publican in
      Marj'-le-bone; but an old debauchee (upon the look out for defenceless
      beauty) admiring the fineness of her form, the brilliancy of her eye, and
      the symmetry of her features, became the possessor of her person, and took
      her into keeping, as one of the indispensable appendages of fashionable
      life, after a month's ablution at Margate, where he gave her masters of
      every description. Her understanding was ready, and at his death, which
      happened, luckily for her, before satiety had extinguished appetite, she
      was left with an annuity of twelve hundred pounds&mdash;improved beauty&mdash;superficial
      accomplishments&mdash;and an immoderate share of caprice, insolence, and
      vanity. As a proof of this, I must tell you that at an elegant
      entertainment lately given by this dashing cyprian, she demolished a
      desert service of glass and china that cost five hundred guineas, in a fit
      of passionate ill-humour; and when her paramour intreated her to be more
      composed, she became indignant&mdash;called for her writing-desk in a rage&mdash;committed
      a settlement of four hundred a year, which he had made but a short time
      previously, to the flames, and asked him, with, a self-important air,
      whether he dared to suppose that <i>paltry</i> parchment gave him an
      authority to direct her actions?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "And what said the lover to this severe remonstrance?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Say,&mdash;why he very sensibly made her a low bow, thanked her for her
      kindness, in releasing him from his bond, and took his leave of her,
      determined to return no more."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[22]</span>"Turn to the right," says Tom, "and
      yonder you will see on horseback, that staunch patriot, and friend of the
      people, Sir&mdash;&mdash;, of whom you must have heard so much."
    </p>
    <p>
      "He has just come out of the K&mdash;&mdash;B&mdash;&mdash;, having
      completed last week the term of imprisonment, to which he was sentenced
      for a libel on Government, contained in his address to his constituents on
      the subject of the memorable Manchester Meeting."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ah! indeed, and is that the red-hot patriot?&mdash;well, I must say I
      have often regretted he should have gone to such extremes in one or two
      instances, although I ever admired his general character for firmness,
      manly intrepidity, and disinterested conduct."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are right, Bob, perfectly right; but you know, 'to err is human, to
      forgive divine,' and however he may err, he does so from principle. In his
      private character, as father, husband, friend, and polished gentleman, he
      has very few equals&mdash;no superior.
    </p>
    <p>
      "He is a branch of one of the most ancient families in the kingdom, and
      can trace his ancestors without interruption, from the days of William the
      Conqueror. His political career has been eventful, and perhaps has cost
      him more, both in pocket and person, than any Member of Parliament now
      existing. He took his seat in the House of Commons at an early age, and
      first rendered himself popular by his strenuous opposition to a bill
      purporting to regulate the publication of newspapers.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The next object of his determined reprehension, was the Cold-Bath-Fields
      Prison, and the treatment of the unfortunates therein confined. The
      uniformly bold and energetic language made use of by the honourable
      Baronet upon that occasion, breathed the true spirit of British liberty.
      He reprobated the unconstitutional measure of erecting what he termed a <i>Bastile</i>
      in the very heart of a free country, as one that could neither have its
      foundation in national policy, nor eventually be productive of private
      good. He remarked that prisons, at which private punishments, cruel as
      they were illegal, were exercised, at the mercy of an unprincipled gaoler&mdash;cells
      in which human beings were exposed to the horrors of heart-sickening
      solitude, and depressed in spirit by their restriction to a scanty and
      exclusive allowance of bread and water, were not only incompatible with
      the spirit of the constitution, but were likely to prove injurious to the
      spirit of the <span class="pagenum">[23]</span>people of this happy
      country; for as Goldsmith admirably remarks,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Princes and Lords may nourish or may fade,
          A breath can make them as a breath hath made,
          But a bold peasantry their country's pride,
          When once destroyed can never be supplied."
</pre>
    <p>
      "<i>And if this be not tyranny</i>" continued the philanthropic orator, "<i>it
      is impossible to define the term. I promise you here</i> that I will
      persevere to the last in unmasking this wanton abuse of justice and
      humanity." His invincible fortitude in favour of the people, has rendered
      him a distinguished favourite among them: and though by some he is termed
      a visionary, an enthusiast, and a tool of party, his adherence to the
      rights of the subject, and his perseverance to uphold the principles of
      the constitution, are deserving the admiration of every Englishman; and
      although his fortune is princely, and has been at his command ever since
      an early age, he has never had his name registered among the fashionable
      gamesters at the clubs in St. James's-street, Newmarket, or elsewhere. He
      labours in the vineyard of utility rather than in the more luxuriant
      garden of folly; and, according to general conception, may emphatically be
      called an honest man. "But come," said Tom, "it is time for us to move
      homeward&mdash;the company are drawing off I see, we must shape our course
      towards Piccadilly."
    </p>
    <p>
      They dashed through the Park, not however without being saluted by many of
      his fashionable friends, who rejoiced to see that the Honourable Tom
      Dashall was again to be numbered among the votaries of Real Life in
      London; while the young squire, whose visionary orbs appeared to be in
      perpetual motion, dazzled with the splendid equipages of the moving
      panorama, was absorbed in reflections somewhat similar to the following:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "No spot on earth to me is half so fair
          As Hyde-Park Corner, or St. James's Square;
          And Happiness has surely fix'd her seat
          In Palace Yard, Pall Mall, or Downing Street:
          Are hills, and dales, and valleys half so gay
          As bright St. James's on a levee day?
          What fierce ecstatic transports fire my soul,
          To hear the drivers swear, the coaches roll;
          The Courtier's compliment, the Ladies' clack,
          The satins rustle, and the whalebone crack!"
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER IV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Together let us beat this ample field
          Try what the open, what the covert yield:
          The latent tracts, the giddy heights explore
          Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar;
          Eye nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies,
          And catch the manners living as they rise."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[24]</span>IT was half past five when the Hon. Tom
      Dashall, and his enraptured cousin, reached the habitation of the former,
      who had taken care to dispatch a groom, apprizing Mrs. Watson, the
      house-keeper, of his intention to be at home by half past six to dinner;
      consequently all was prepared for their reception. The style of elegance
      in which Tom appeared to move, struck Tallyho at once with delight and
      astonishment, as they entered the drawing-room; which was superbly and
      tastefully fitted up, and commanded a cheerful view of Piccadilly.
      "Welcome, my dear Bob!" said Tom to his cousin, "to all the delights of
      Town&mdash;come, tell me what you think of its first appearance, only
      remember you commence your studies of Life in London on a dull day;
      to-morrow you will have more enlivening prospects before you." "'Why in
      truth," replied Bob, "the rapidity of attraction is such, as at present to
      leave no distinct impressions on my mind; all appears like enchantment,
      and I am completely bewildered in a labyrinth of wonders, to which there
      appears to be no end; but under your kind guidance and tuition I may prove
      myself an apt scholar, in unravelling its intricacies." By this time they
      had approached the window.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye, aye," says Dashall, "we shall not be long, I see, without some
      object to exercise your mind upon, and dispel the horrors.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Oh for that Muse of fire, whose burning pen
          Records the God-like deeds of valiant men!
          Then might our humble, yet aspiring verse,
          Our matchless hero's matchless deeds rehearse."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[25]</span>Bob was surprised at this sudden
      exclamation of his cousin, and from the introduction naturally expected
      something extraordinary, though he looked around him without discovering
      his object.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
"That," continued Tom, "is a Peer"&mdash;pointing to a gig just turning the
corner, "of whom it may be said:

          To many a jovial club that <i>Peer</i> was known,
          With whom his active wit unrivall'd shone,
          Choice spirit, grave freemason, buck and blood,
          Would crowd his stories and <i>bon mots</i> to hear,
          And none a disappointment e'er need fear
          His humour flow'd in such a copious flood."
</pre>
    <p>
      "It is Lord C&mdash;&mdash;, who was formerly well known as the celebrated
      Major H&mdash;&mdash;, the companion of the now most distinguished
      personage in the British dominions! and who not long since became
      possessed of his lordly honours. Some particulars of him are worth
      knowing. He was early introduced into life, and often kept both good and
      bad company, associating with men and women of every description and of
      every rank, from the highest to the lowest&mdash;from St. James's to St.
      Giles's, in palaces and night-cellars&mdash;from the drawing-room to the
      dust-cart. He can drink, swear, tell stories, cudgel, box, and smoke with
      any one; having by his intercourse with society fitted himself for all
      companies. His education has been more practical than theoretical, though
      he was brought up at Eton, where, notwithstanding he made considerable
      progress in his studies, he took such an aversion to Greek that he never
      would learn it. Previous to his arrival at his present title, he used to
      be called Honest George, and so unalterable is his nature, that to this
      hour he likes it, and it fits him better than his title. But he has often
      been sadly put to his shifts under various circumstances: he was a
      courtier, but was too honest for that; he tried gaming, but he was too
      honest for that; he got into prison, and might have wiped off, but he was
      too honest for that; he got into the coal trade, but he found it a black
      business, and he was too honest for that. At drawing the long bow, so much
      perhaps cannot be said&mdash;but that you know is habit, not principle;
      his courage is undoubted, having fought three duels before he was twenty
      years of age.
    </p>
    <p>
      Being disappointed in his hope of promotion in the army, he resolved, in
      spite of the remonstrances of his <span class="pagenum">[26]</span>friends,
      to quit the guards, and solicited an appointment in one of the Hessian
      corps, at that time raising for the British service in America, where the
      war of the revolution was then commencing, and obtained from the Landgrave
      of Hesse a captain's commission in his corps of Jagers.
    </p>
    <p>
      Previous to his departure for America, finding he had involved himself in
      difficulties by a profuse expenditure, too extensive for his income, and
      an indulgence in the pleasures of the turf to a very great extent, he felt
      himself under the necessity of mortgaging an estate of about 11,000L. per
      annum, left him by his aunt, and which proved unequal to the liquidation
      of his debts. He remained in America till the end of the war, where he
      distinguished himself for bravery, and suffered much with the yellow
      fever. On his return, he obtained an introduction to the Prince of Wales,
      who by that time had lanched into public life, and became one of the
      jovial characters whom he selected for his associates; and many are the
      amusing anecdotes related of him. The Prince conferred on him the
      appointment of equerry, with a salary of 300L. a year; this, however, he
      lost on the retrenchments that were afterwards made in the household of
      His Royal Highness. He continued, however, to be one of his constant
      companions, and while in his favour they were accustomed to practice
      strange vagaries. The Major was always a wag, ripe and ready for a <i>spree
      or a lark</i>.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "To him a frolic was a high delight,
          A frolic he would hunt for, day and night,
          Careless how prudence on the sport might frown."
</pre>
    <p>
      At one time, when the favourite's finances were rather low, and the <i>mopusses
      ran taper</i>, it was remarked among the 60 vivants of the party, that the
      Major had not for some time given them an invitation. This, however, he
      promised to do, and fixed the day&mdash;the Prince having engaged to make
      one. Upon this occasion he took lodgings in Tottenham-court Road&mdash;went
      to a wine-merchant&mdash;promised to introduce him to the royal presence,
      upon his engaging to find wine for the party, which was readily acceded
      to; and a dinner of three courses was served up. Three such courses,
      perhaps, were never before seen; when the company were seated, two large
      dishes appeared; one was placed at the top of the table, and one at the
      bottom; all was anxious expectation: <span class="pagenum">[27]</span>the
      covers being removed, exhibited to view, a baked shoulder of mutton at
      top, and baked potatoes at the bottom. They all looked around with
      astonishment, but, knowing the general eccentricity of their host, they
      readily fell into his humour, and partook of his fare; not doubting but
      the second course would make ample amends for the first. The wine was
      good, and the Major apologized for his accommodations, being, as he said,
      a family sort of man, and the dinner, though somewhat uncommon, was not
      such an one as is described by Goldsmith:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "At the top, a fried liver and bacon were seen;
          At the bottom was tripe, in a swinging tureen;
          At the sides there were spinach and pudding made hot;
          In the middle a place where the pasty&mdash;was not."
</pre>
    <p>
      At length the second course appeared; when lo and behold, another baked
      shoulder of mutton and baked potatoes! Surprise followed surprise&mdash;but
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Another and another still succeeds."
</pre>
    <p>
      The third course consisted of the same fare, clearly proving that he had
      in his catering studied quantity more than variety; however, they enjoyed
      the joke, eat as much as they pleased, laughed heartily at the dinner, and
      after bumpering till a late hour, took their departure: it is said,
      however, that he introduced the wine-merchant to his Highness, who
      afterwards profited by his orders.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This remarkable dinner reminds us of a laughable
     caricature which made its appearance some time ago upon the
     marriage of a Jew attorney, in Jewry-street, Aldgate, to the
     daughter of a well-known fishmonger, of St. Peter's-alley,
     Cornhill, when a certain Baronet, Alderman, Colonel, and
     then Lord Mayor, opened the ball at the London Tavern, as
     the partner of the bride; a circum-stance which excited
     considerable curiosity and surprise at the time. We know the
     worthy Baronet had been a hunter for a seat in Parliament,
     but what he could be hunting among the children of Israel
     is, perhaps, not so easily ascertained. We, however, are not
     speaking of the character, but the caricature, which
     represented the bride, not resting on Abraham's bosom, but
     seated on his knee, surrounded by their guests at the
     marriage-feast; while to a panel just behind them, appears
     to be affixed a bill of fare, which runs thus:

     First course, Fish!

     Second course, Fish!!

     Third course, Fish!!!

     Perhaps the idea of the artist originated in  the anecdote
     above recorded.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[28]</span>It is reported that the Prince gave him a
      commission, under an express promise that when he could not shew it, he
      was no longer to enjoy his royal favour. This commission was afterwards
      lost by the improvident possessor, and going to call on the donor one
      morning, who espying him on his way, he threw up the sash and called out,
      "Well, George, commission or no commission?" "No commission, by G&mdash;&mdash;,
      your Highness?" was the reply.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then you cannot enter here," rejoined the prince, closing the window and
      the connection at the same time.
    </p>
    <p>
      "His Lordship now resides in the Regent's Park, and may almost nightly be
      seen at a public-house in the neighbourhood, where he takes his grog and
      smokes his pipe, amusing the company around him with anecdotes of his
      former days; we may, perhaps, fall in with him some night in our travels,
      and you will find him a very amusing and sometimes very sensible sort of
      fellow, till he gets his grog on board, when he can be as boisterous and
      blustering as a coal-heaver or a bully. His present fortune is impaired by
      his former imprudence, but he still mingles with the sporting world, and a
      short time back had his pocket picked, at a <i>milling</i> match, of a
      valuable gold repeater. He has favoured the world with several literary
      productions, among which are Memoirs of his own Life, embellished with a
      view of the author, suspended from (to use the phrase of a late celebrated
      auctioneer) a <i>hanging wood</i>; and a very elaborate treatise on the
      Art of Rat-catching. In the advertisement of the latter work, the author
      engages it will enable the reader to "clear any house of these noxious
      vermin, however much infested, excepting only a certain great House in the
      neighbourhood of St. Stephen's, Westminster."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 It appears by the newspapers, that the foundation of a
     certain great house in Pall Mall is rotten, and giving-way.
     The cause is not stated; but as it cannot arise from being
     top-heavy, we may presume that the rats have been at work
     there. Query, would not an early application of the Major's
     recipe have remedied the evil, and prevented the necessity
     of a removal of a very heavy body, which of course, must be
     attended with a very heavy expense? 'Tis a pity an old
     friend should have been overlooked on such an occasion.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[29]</span>"Do you," said Tom, pointing to a person
      on the other side of the way, "see that young man, walking with a
      half-smothered air of indifference, affecting to whistle as he walks, and
      twirling his stick? He is a <i>once-a-week man</i>, or, in other words, a
      <i>Sunday promenader</i>&mdash;Harry Hairbrain was born of a good family,
      and, at the decease of his father, became possessed of ten thousand
      pounds, which he sported with more zeal than discretion, so much so, that
      having been introduced to the gaming table by a pretended friend, and
      fluctuated between poverty and affluence for four years, he found himself
      considerably in debt, and was compelled to seek refuge in an obscure
      lodging, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Kilburn, in order to avoid the
      <i>traps</i>; for, as he observes, he has been among the <i>Greeks and
      pigeons</i>, who have completely <i>rook'd</i> him, and now want to crow
      over him: he has been at hide and seek for the last two months, and,
      depending on the death of a rich old maiden aunt who has no other heir, he
      eventually hopes to '<i>diddle 'em</i>.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      This narrative of Hairbrain was like Hebrew ta Tallyho, who requested his
      interesting cousin, as he found himself at <i>falt, to try back</i>, and
      put him on the <i>right scent</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha! ha! ha!" said Tom, "we must find a new London vocabulary, I see,
      before we shall be able to converse intelligibly; but as you are now
      solely under my tuition, I will endeavour to throw a little light upon the
      subject.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your <i>once-a-week man, or Sunday promenader</i>, is one who confines
      himself, to avoid confinement, lodging in remote quarters in the vicinity
      of the Metropolis, within a mile or two of the Bridges, Oxford Street, or
      Hyde-Park Corner, and is constrained to waste six uncomfortable and
      useless days in the week, in order to secure the enjoyment of the seventh,
      when he fearlessly ventures forth, to recruit his ideas&mdash;to give a
      little variety to the sombre picture of life, unmolested, to transact his
      business, or to call on some old friend, and keep up those relations with
      the world which would otherwise be completely neglected or broken.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Among characters of this description, may frequently be recognised the
      remnant of fashion, and, perhaps, the impression of nobility not wholly
      destroyed by adversity and seclusion&mdash;the air and manners of a man
      who has <span class="pagenum">[30]</span>outlived his century, with an
      assumption of <i>sans souci</i> pourtrayed in his agreeable smile,
      murmur'd through a low whistle of 'Begone dull care,' or 'No more by
      sorrow chased, my heart,' or played off by the flourishing of a whip, or
      the rapping of a boot that has a spur attached to it, which perhaps has
      not crossed a horse for many months; and occasionally by a judicious
      glance at another man's carriage, horses, or appointments, which indicates
      taste, and the former possession of such valuable things. These form a
      part of the votaries of Real Life in London. This however," said he
      (observing his cousin in mute attention) "is but a gloomy part of the
      scene; vet, perhaps, not altogether uninteresting or unprofitable."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I can assure you," replied Tallyho, "I am delighted with the accurate
      knowledge you appear to have of society in general, while I regret the
      situation of the actors in scenes so glowingly described, and am only
      astonished at the appearance of such persons."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You must not be astonished at appearances," rejoined Dashall, "for
      appearance is every thing in London; and I must particularly warn you not
      to found your judgment upon it. There is an old adage, which says 'To <i>be</i>
      poor, and <i>seem</i> poor, is the Devil all over.' Why, if you meet one
      of these <i>Sunday-men</i>, he will accost you with urbanity and affected
      cheerfulness, endeavouring to inspire you with an idea that he is one of
      the happiest of mortals; while, perhaps, the worm of sorrow is secretly
      gnawing his heart, and preying upon his constitution. Honourable
      sentiment, struggling with untoward circumstances, is destroying his
      vitals; not having the courage to pollute his character by a
      jail-delivery, or to condescend to <i>white-washing</i>, or some low
      bankrupt trick, to extricate himself from difficulty, in order to stand
      upright again.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A <i>once-a-week man, or Sunday promenader</i>, frequently takes his way
      through bye streets and short cuts, through courts and alleys, as it were
      between retirement and a desire to see what is going on in the scenes of
      his former splendour, to take a sly peep at that world from which he seems
      to be excluded."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And for all such men," replied Bob, "expelled from high and from good
      society, (even though I were compelled to allow by their own imprudence
      and folly) I <span class="pagenum">[31]</span>should always like to have a
      spare hundred, to send them in an anonymous cover."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are right," rejoined Tom, catching him ardently by the hand, "the
      sentiment does honour to your head and heart; for to such men, in general,
      is attached a heart-broken wife, withering by their side in the shade, as
      the leaves and the blossom cling together at all seasons, in sickness or
      in health, in affluence or in poverty, until the storm beats too roughly
      on them, and prematurely destroys the weakest. But I must warn you not to
      let your liberality get the better of your discretion, for there are
      active and artful spirits abroad, and even these necessities and miseries
      are made a handle for deception, to entrap the unwary; and you yet have
      much to learn&mdash;Puff lived two years on sickness and misfortune, by
      advertisements in the newspapers."
    </p>
    <p>
      "How?" enquired Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You shall have it in his own words," said Dashall.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "I suppose never man went through such a series of
     "calamities in the same space of time! Sir, I was five
     "times made a bankrupt and reduced from a state of
     "affluence, by a train of unavoidable misfortunes! then
     "Sir, though a very industrious tradesman, I was twice
     "burnt out, and lost my little all both times! I lived
     "upon those fires a month. I soon after was confined by a
     "most excruciating disorder, and lost the use of my limbs!
     "That told very well; for I had the case strongly attested,
     "and went about col&mdash;called on you, a close prisoner
     "in the Marshalsea, for a debt benevolently contracted
     "to serve a friend. I was afterwards twice tapped
     "for a dropsy, which declined into a very profitable
     "consumption! I was then reduced to&mdash;0&mdash;no&mdash;then,
     "I became a widow with six helpless children&mdash;after
     "having had eleven husbands pressed, and being left
     "every time eight months gone with child, and without
     "money to get me into an hospital!"
</pre>
    <p>
      "Astonishing!" cried Bob, "and are such things possible?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "A month's residence in the metropolis," said Dashall, "will satisfy your
      enquiries. One ingenious villain, a short time back, had artifice enough
      to defraud the public, at different periods of his life, of upwards of one
      hundred thousand pounds, and actually carried on his fraudulent schemes to
      the last moment of his existence, for he <span class="pagenum">[32]</span>defrauded
      Jack Ketch of his fee by hanging himself in his cell after
      condemnation."{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      Just as a tilbury was passing, "Observe," said Tom, "the driver of that
      tilbury is the celebrated Lord Cripplegate with his usual equipage&mdash;his
      blue cloak with a scarlet lining, hanging loosely over the vehicle, gives
      an air of importance to his appearance, and he is always attended by that
      boy, who has been denominated his cupid; he is a nobleman by birth, a
      gentleman by courtesy, and a gamester by profession. He exhausted a large
      estate upon <i>odd and even, sevens the main</i>, &amp;c. till having lost
      sight of the <i>main chance</i>, he found it necessary to curtail his
      establishment and enliven his prospects, by exchanging a first floor for a
      second, without an opportunity of ascertaining whether or not these
      alterations were best suited to his high notions or exalted taste; from
      which in a short time he was induced, either by inclination or necessity,
      to take a small lodging in an obscure street, and to sport a gig and one
      horse, instead of a curricle and pair; though in former times he used to
      drive four in hand, and was acknowledged to be an excellent whip. He
      still, however, possessed money enough to collect together a large
      quantity of halfpence, which in his hours of relaxation he managed to turn
      to good account, by the following stratagem:&mdash;He distributed his
      halfpence on the floor of his little parlour in straight lines, and
      ascertained how many it would require to cover it; having thus prepared
      himself, he invited some wealthy spendthrifts (with whom he still had the
      power of associating) to sup with him, and he welcomed them to his
      habitation with much cordiality. The glass circulated freely, and each
      recounted his gaming or amorous adventures till a late hour, when the
      effects of the bottle becoming visible, he proposed, as a momentary
      suggestion, to name how many halfpence laid side by side would carpet the
      floor; and offered to lay a large
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Charles Price, the well-known impostor, whose extensive
     forgeries on the Bank of England rendered him notorious, may
     serve as a practical illustration of Puff, for he, at
     several periods of his life, carried on his system of fraud
     by advertisements, and by personating the character of a
     clergyman collecting subscriptions under various pretences.
     His whole life is marked with determined and systematic
     depravity. He hanged himself in Tothil-fields Bridewell,
     where he was confined, at the age of fifty-five.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[33]</span>wager, that he would guess the nearest.
      Done! done! was echoed round the room. Every one made a deposit of 100L.
      and every one made a guess equally certain of success; and his lordship
      declaring he had a large lot of halfpence by him, though, perhaps, not
      enough, the experiment was to be tried immediately&mdash;'twas an
      excellent hit! The room was cleared, to it they went, the halfpence were
      arranged rank and file in military order, when it appeared that his
      lordship had certainly guessed (as well he might) nearest to the number:
      the consequence was, an immediate alteration of his lordship's residence
      and appearance: he got one step in the world by it, he gave up his
      second-hand gig for one warranted new; and a change in his vehicle may
      pretty generally be considered as the barometer of his pocket.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you mark, he is learing at that pretty girl on the other side of the
      way? he is fond of the wenches, and has been a true votary of fashion.
      Perhaps there is not a more perfect model of Real Life in London than
      might be furnished from the memoirs of his lordship! He is rather a good
      looking man, as he sits, and prides himself on being a striking likeness
      of his present majesty; but, unfortunately, has a lameness which impedes
      him in the ardour of his pursuit of game, although it must be acknowledged
      he has been a game one in his time. The boy you see with him is reported
      to be his own son, who is now employed by him as an assistant in all his
      amorous adventures."
    </p>
    <p>
      "His own son!" exclaimed Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye, and (if so) a merrily begotten one, I'll be bound for it," continued
      Tom; "such things will happen, and his lordship has kept a very pretty
      assortment of servant girls. But the introduction of this youth to public
      notice was somewhat curious. It is said, that having a large party of <i>bon
      vivants</i> to dine with him, on sitting down to table, and taking the
      cover off one of the dishes, a plump and smiling infant appeared. A sweet
      little <i>Cupid</i> by
    </p>
    <p>
      &mdash;&mdash;! (exclaimed his lordship) I'll be his father!&mdash;I'll
    </p>
    <p>
      take care of him!&mdash;call Rose, and tell her to look out for a nurse
      for him. Thus taking upon himself the character of parent and protector as
      well as parson. Young <i>Cupid</i> was christened in libations of claret,
      and furnished a fund of amusement for the evening. How young Cupid <span
      class="pagenum">[34]</span>came there, I believe has not yet been
      satisfactorily ascertained:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Who seeks a friend, should come disposed
          T' exhibit, in full bloom disclosed,
          The graces and the beauties
          That form the character he seeks;
          For 'tis an union that bespeaks
          Reciprocated duties.
</pre>
    <p>
      And thus it has proved with <i>Cupid</i>, himself the offspring of an
      illicit amour, is now constantly engaged in promoting others.
    </p>
    <p>
      "His lordship had three brothers, <i>Billingsgate! Hellgate!</i> and <i>Newgate!</i>
      whose names are adorned with a similarity of perfections in the Temple of
      Fame; but they are consigned to the tomb of the Capulets, and we will not
      rake up the ashes of the dead."{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment a loud knocking was heard at the door, and Mr. Sparkle was
      ushered into the drawing-room, which he entered, as it were, with a hop,
      step, and jump, and had Tom Dashall by the hand almost before they could
      turn round to see who it was.
    </p>
    <p>
      "My dear fellow!" exclaimed Sparkle, almost out of breath, "where have you
      been to? Time has been standing still since your departure!&mdash;there
      has been a complete void in nature&mdash;how do you do?&mdash;I beg
      pardon, (turning to Bob) you will excuse my rapture at meeting my old
      friend, whom I have lost so long, that I have almost lost myself&mdash;egad,
      I have run myself out of breath&mdash;cursed unlucky I was not in the Park
      this morning to see you first, but I have just heard all about you from
      Lady Jane, and lost no time in paying my respects&mdash;what are you going
      to do with yourself?"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 There was a delicate propriety in this conduct of the Hon.
     Tom Dashall which cannot but be admired; for although they
     were alone, and speaking to each other in perfect
     confidence, it was always his desire to avoid as much as
     possible making bad worse; he had a heart to feel, as well
     as a head to think; and would rather lend a hand to raise a
     fellow-creature from the mud than walk deliberately over
     him; besides, he foresaw other opportunities would arise in
     which, from circumstances, he would almost be compelled to
     draw his Cousin's attention again to the persons in
     question, and he was always unwilling to ex-haust a subject
     of an interesting nature without sonic leading occurrence to
     warrant it.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[35]</span>At this moment dinner was announced.
      "Come," said Tom, "let us refresh a bit, and after dinner I will tell you
      all about it. We are travellers, you know, and feel a little fatigued. <i>Allons,
      allons</i>." And so saying, he led the way to the dinner-room.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nothing could be more <i>apropos</i>," said Sparkle, "for although I have
      two engagements beforehand, and have promised a visit to you know who in
      the evening, they appear like icicles that must melt before the sun of
      your re-appearance: so I am your's." And to it they went. Tom always kept
      a liberal table, and gave his friends a hearty welcome. But here it will
      be necessary, while they are regaling themselves, to make our readers a
      little acquainted with Charles Sparkle, Esq.; for which purpose we must
      request his patience till the next chapter.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER V
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Place me, thou great Supreme, in that blest state,
          Unknown to those the silly world call Great,
          Where all my wants may be with ease supply'd,
          Yet nought superfluous to pamper pride."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[36]</span>IT will be seen in the previous chapter,
      that the formal ceremony of a fashionable introduction, such as&mdash;"Mr.
      Sparkle, my friend Mr. Robert Tallyho, of Belville Hall; Mr. Tallyho, Mr.
      Charles Sparkle," was altogether omitted; indeed, the abrupt entrance of
      the latter rendered it utterly impossible, for although Sparkle was really
      a well-bred man, he had heard from Lady Jane of Tom's arrival with his
      young friend from the country. <i>Etiquette</i> between themselves, was at
      all times completely unnecessary, an air of gaiety and freedom, as the
      friend of Dashall, was introduction enough to Bob, and consequently this
      point of good breeding was wholly unnoticed by all the party; but we are
      not yet sufficiently acquainted with our readers to expect a similar mode
      of proceeding will be overlooked; we shall therefore lose no time in
      giving our promised account of Mr. Sparkle, and beg to introduce him
      accordingly.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mr. Reader, Mr. Sparkle; Mr. Sparkle, Mr. Reader.
    </p>
    <p>
      Hold, Sir, what are you about? You have bewildered yourself with
      etiquette, and seem to know as little about <i>Life in London</i> as the
      novice you have already introduced&mdash;By the way, that introduction was
      one of the most extraordinary I ever met with; this may be equally so for
      ought I know; and I really begin to suspect you are an extraordinary
      fellow yourself. How can you introduce me, of whom you know nothing?
    </p>
    <p>
      Egad, I believe you have me there&mdash;"a palpable hit, my Lord," (or my
      Lady, for I certainly cannot say which;) I was getting myself into an
      awkward dilemma, but I hate suspicion&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Suspicion ever haunts the guilty mind."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[37]</span>Methinks I see a frown, but I meant no
      offence, and if you throw down my book in a rage, you will perhaps not
      only remain ignorant of Mr. Sparkle, but, what is more important, of those
      other numerous fashionable characters in high and low life&mdash;of those
      manners&mdash;incidents&mdash;amusements&mdash;follies&mdash;vices, &amp;c.
      which, combined together, form the true picture of Real Life in the
      Metropolis.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "He who hath trod th' intricate maze,
          Exploring every devious way,
          Can best direct th' enquiring gaze,
          And all the varied scenes display."
</pre>
    <p>
      Mr. Author, you are a strange rambler.
    </p>
    <p>
      Admitted, Sir, or Ma'am, I am a rambler, who, with your permission, would
      willingly not be impeded in my progress, and under such expectations I
      shall proceed.
    </p>
    <p>
      Charles Sparkle was the son and only child of a Right Hon. Member of
      Parliament, now no more, whose mother dying soon after his birth, was left
      destitute of that maternal kindness and solicitude which frequently has so
      much influence in forming the character of the future man.
    </p>
    <p>
      His father, a man of eccentric turn of mind, being appointed soon
      afterwards to a diplomatic situation abroad, left the care of his son's
      education to an elderly friend of his, who held a situation of some
      importance under the then existing government, with an injunction to
      conceal from the boy the knowledge of his real parent, and to bring him up
      as his own child.
    </p>
    <p>
      This important trust was executed with tenderness and fidelity; the boy
      grew in strength, and ripened in intelligence, and being accustomed to
      consider his protector as his parent, the father, upon returning to
      England, determined not to undeceive him, until he should arrive at years
      of discretion; and with this view Mr. Orford was instructed at a proper
      age to send him to Oxford.
    </p>
    <p>
      Charles, however had contracted before this period, habits and
      acquaintances in London, that were completely in opposition to the
      dictates and inclinations of his supposed father. He became passionately
      fond of literary amusements, music, and drawing, which served to occupy
      his morning hours: but his evenings were devoted to the company of
      vitiated associates, who did <span class="pagenum">[38]</span>not fail to
      exercise their influence over his youthful passions, and he frequently
      engaged himself in unlucky and improvident adventures, which involved him
      in pecuniary difficulties far beyond his stipulated income. These
      circumstances were no sooner made known to the supposed parent, than they
      excited his displeasure, and being carried to an unpardonable extent, he
      was, at the age of eighteen, literally banished the house of his
      protector, and compelled to take an obscure lodging in the vicinity of
      London; the rent of which was paid for him, and a scanty allowance of one
      guinea sent to him regularly every Saturday night. Thus secluded from his
      old associates, it will not be wondered at that he contrived to form new
      ones, and having purchased an old harpsicord, turned the musical
      instruction he had received to occasional account; he also wrote some
      political pamphlets which were well received. But this solitary and
      dependent life was wholly unsuited to the gaiety in which he had hitherto
      moved. It had, however, the effect of drawing forth talent, which perhaps
      would never, but for this circumstance, have been discovered; for
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Many a gem, of purest ray serene,
          The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear;
          Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
          And waste its sweetness on the desert air."
</pre>
    <p>
      His writings, &amp;c. under the name of Oribrd, were recognised by the
      real father, as the productions of a promising son: at his instigation,
      and upon a promise of reform, he was again restored to his former home,
      and shortly after entered as a gentleman commoner of St. Mary's, Oxford;
      but not till he had, by some means or other, made the discovery that
      Orford was not his real name. Congenial spirits are naturally fond of
      associating, and it was here that he first became acquainted with the Hon.
      Tom Dashall: they were constant companions and mutual assistants to each
      other, in all their exercises as well as all their vagaries; so as to
      cement a friendship and interest in each other's fate, up to the moment of
      which we are now speaking.
    </p>
    <p>
      Orford, however, was at that time more impetuous and less discreet in the
      pursuit of his pleasures than his honourable friend, and after obtaining
      the distinction of Bachelor of Arts, was in consequence of his imprudence
      and <span class="pagenum">[39]</span>irregularities, after frequently
      hair-breadth escapes, expelled the college. This circumstance, however,
      appeared of little consequence to him. He hired a gig at Oxford, promising
      to return in a few days, and came up to London, but had not effrontery
      enough to venture into the presence of his reputed father. On arrival in
      town, he put up at an inn in the Borough, where he resided till all the
      money he had was exhausted, and till, as he emphatically observes, he had
      actually eaten his horse and chaise.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the mean time, the people at Oxford found he was expelled; and as he
      had not returned according to appointment, he was pursued, and eventually
      found: they had no doubt of obtaining their demand from his friends, and
      he was arrested at the suit of the lender; which was immediately followed
      by a retainer from the inn-keeper where he had resided in town.
      Application was made to Mr. Orford for his liberation, without effect; in
      consequence of which he became a resident in the rules of the King's
      Bench, as his friends conceived by this means his habits would be
      corrected and his future conduct be amended, his real father still keeping
      in the back ground.
    </p>
    <p>
      While in this confinement, he again resorted to the produce of his pen and
      his talent for musical composition, and his friend Tom, at the first
      vacation, did not fail to visit him. During this time, in the shape of
      donation, from Mr. Orford he received occasional supplies more than equal
      to his necessities, though not to his wishes. While here, he fished out
      some further clue to the real parent, who visited him in disguise during
      his confinement as a friend of Mr. Orford: still, however, he had no
      chance of liberation, till, being one day called on by Mr. Orford, he was
      informed he was at perfect liberty to leave his present abode, and was
      directed to go with him immediately; a coach was called, and he heard the
      direction given to drive to Bedford Square, where they arrived just time
      enough to learn that the Right Hon. S. S. had breathed his last, after a
      lingering illness.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon alighting from the coach, and receiving this information, they were
      ushered into the drawing-room, and presently joined by a clergyman who had
      been the chaplain of the deceased, who acquainted our adventurer of the
      death of his parent&mdash;that by will he was entitled <span
      class="pagenum">[40]</span>to 10,000L. per annum, and a handsome estate in
      Wiltshire. This sudden reverse of fortune to Sparkle&mdash;the change from
      confinement to liberty, from indigence to affluence&mdash;awakened
      sensations more easily to be conceived than described. He wept, (perhaps
      the first tears of sincerity in his life; ) his heart was subdued by an
      overwhelming flood of affection for that unknown being, whom he now found
      had been his constant guardian angel, alternately taking Orford and the
      reverend Divine by the hand, and hiding his head in the bosom of his
      reputed father. At length they led him to the room in which were the
      remains of his lamented parent.
    </p>
    <p>
      There are perhaps few circumstances better calculated to impress awe on
      the youthful mind than the contemplation of those features in death which
      have been respected and revered while living. Such respect had ever been
      entertained by Charles Sparkle for the supposed friend of Mr. Orford, from
      whom he had several times received the most kind and affectionate advice;
      and his sensations upon discovering that friend to be no other than his
      own father, may be more easily conceived than described&mdash;he was at
      once exalted and humbled, delighted and afflicted. He threw himself in an
      agony of feeling by the bed-side, fell on his knees, in which he was
      joined by the clergyman and Orford, where he remained some time.
    </p>
    <p>
      After the first paroxysms of grief had subsided, young Sparkle, who had
      already felt the strongest impression that could possibly be made on a
      naturally good heart, gave orders for the funeral of his deceased father,
      and then proceeded to make other arrangements suitable to the character he
      was hereafter to sustain through life, went down to Wiltshire, and took
      possession of his estate, where for a time he secluded himself, and
      devoted his attention to the perusal of the best authors in the English,
      French, and Italian language, under the superintendence of the reverend
      Divine, who had been a resident for many years with his father.
    </p>
    <p>
      But a life in the country could not long have superior charms for a young
      man who had already seen much to admire, as well as much to avoid, in the
      metropolis. The combination however of theoretical information he had
      derived from books, as well as the practical observations he had made
      during his residence in London, fitted him at once for the gayest and most
      distinguished circles of <span class="pagenum">[41]</span>metropolitan
      society. He therefore arranged with Mr. Orford, who had formerly acted as
      his parent, to continue with him in the capacity of steward, and for the
      last two years of his life had been almost a constant resident at "Long's
      Hotel", in Bond Street, not choosing to have the charge of an
      establishment in town; and the early friendship and attachment which had
      been cultivated at Oxford being again renewed, appeared to grow with their
      growth, and strengthen with their strength.
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle had still a large portion of that vivacity for which he was so
      remarkable in his younger days. His motives and intentions were at all
      times good, and if he indulged himself in the pursuits of frolic and fun,
      it was never at the expence of creating an unpleasant feeling to an honest
      or honourable mind. His fortune was ample. He had a hand to give, and a
      heart to forgive; no "malice or hatred were there to be found:" but of
      these qualifications, and the exercise of them, sufficient traits will be
      given in the ensuing pages. No man was better <i>up</i> to the rigs of the
      town; no one better <i>down</i> to the manoeuvres of the <i>flats</i>, and
      <i>sharps</i>. He had mingled with life in all companies; he was at once
      an elegant and interesting companion; his views were extensive upon all
      subjects; his conversation lively, and his manners polished.
    </p>
    <p>
      Such, gentle reader, is the brief sketch of Charles Sparkle, the esteemed
      friend of the Hon. Tom Dashall, and with such recommendations it will not
      be wondered at if he should become also the friend of Tally-ho; for,
      although living in the height of fashionable splendour, his mind was at
      all times in consonance with the lines which precede this chapter; yet
      none could be more ready to lend a hand in any pleasant party in pursuit
      of a bit of <i>gig. A mill at Moulsey Hurst&mdash;a badger-bait, or
      bear-bait&mdash;a main at the Cock-pit&mdash;a smock-race</i>&mdash;or a
      scamper to the Tipping hunt, ultimately claimed his attention; while upon
      all occasions he was an acute observer of life and character.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "His years but young, but his experience old,
          His heart unmellow'd, though his judgment ripe,
          And in a word, (for far behind his worth
          Come all the praises that we now bestow)
          He is complete in conduct and in mind,
          With all good grace, to grace a gentleman."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[42]</span>But dinner is over, and we must now
      accompany our triumvirate to the drawing-room, where we find them seated
      with bottles, glasses, &amp;c. determined to make a quiet evening after
      the fatigues of the journey, and with a view to prepare themselves for the
      more arduous, and to Tally-ho more interesting, pursuits in the new world,
      for such he almost considered London.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," said Sparkle, addressing himself to Bob, with whom a little
      previous conversation had almost rendered him familiar, "London is a world
      within itself; it is, indeed, the only place to see life&mdash;it is the "<i>multum
      in parvo</i>," as the old song says,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Would you see the world in little,
          Ye curious here repair;"
</pre>
    <p>
      it is the acmé of perfection, the "<i>summum bonum</i>" of style&mdash;-indeed,
      there is a certain affectation of style from the highest to the lowest
      individual."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are a merry and stylish fellow," said Tom; we should have been hipp'd
      without you, there is a fund of amusement in you at all times."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are a bit of a wag," replied Sparkle, "but I am up to your gossip,
      and can serve you out in your own style."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Every body," says Tallyho, "appears to live in style."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," continued Sparkle, "<i>living in style</i> is one of the most
      essential requisites for a residence in London; but I'll give you my idea
      of living in style, which, by many, is literally nothing more than keeping
      up appearances at other people's expence: for instance, a Duchess
      conceives it to consist in taking her breakfast at three o'clock in the
      afternoon&mdash;dining at eight&mdash;playing at Faro till four the next
      morning&mdash;supping at five, and going to bed at six&mdash;and to eat
      green peas and peaches in January&mdash;in making a half-curtsey at the
      creed, and a whole one to a scoundrel&mdash;in giving fifty guineas to an
      exotic capon for a pit-ticket&mdash;and treating the deserved claims of a
      parental actor with contempt&mdash;to lisp for the mere purpose of
      appearing singular, and to seem completely ignorant of the Mosaic law&mdash;to
      be in the reverse of extremes&mdash;to laugh when she could weep, and weep
      when she could .dance and be merry&mdash;to leave her compliment cards
      with her acquaintance, whom at the same moment she wishes she may never
      see again&mdash;to speak of the community <span class="pagenum">[43]</span>with
      marked disrespect, and to consider the sacrament a bore!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Admirable!" said Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Wonderful, indeed!" exclaimed Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye, aye, London is full of wonders&mdash;there is a general and
      insatiate appetite for the marvellous; but let us proceed: Now we'll take
      the reverse of the picture. The Duke thinks he does things in style, by
      paying his debts of honour contracted at the gaming-table, and but very
      few honourable debts&mdash;by being harsh and severe to a private
      supplicant, while he is publicly a liberal subscriber to a person he never
      saw&mdash;by leaving his vis-a-vis at the door of a well-known courtesan,
      in order to have the credit of an intrigue&mdash;in making use of an
      optical glass for personal inspection, though he can ascertain the horizon
      without any&mdash;by being or seeming to be, every thing that is in
      opposition to nature and virtue&mdash;in counting the lines in the Red
      Book, and carefully watching the importation of <i>figurantes</i> from the
      Continent&mdash;in roundly declaring that a man of fashion is a being of a
      superior order, and ought to be amenable only to himself&mdash;in jumbling
      ethics and physics together, so as to make them destroy each other&mdash;in
      walking arm in arm with a sneering jockey&mdash;talking loudly any thing
      but sense&mdash;and in burning long letters without once looking at their
      contents;... and so much for my Lord Duke."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Go along Bob!" exclaimed Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho conceiving himself addressed by this, looked up with an air of
      surprise and enquiry, which excited the risibility of Dashall and Sparkle,
      till it was explained to him as a common phrase in London, with which he
      would soon become more familiar. Sparkle continued.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The gay young Peerling, who is scarcely entitled to the honours and
      immunities of manhood, is satisfied he is <i>doing things in style</i>, by
      raising large sums of money on <i>post-obit</i> bonds, at the very
      moderate premium of 40 per cent.&mdash;in <i>queering</i> the clergyman at
      his father's table, and leaving the marks of his finger and thumb on the
      article of matrimony in his aunt's prayer-book&mdash;in kicking up a row
      at the theatre, when he knows he has some roaring bullies at his elbow,
      though humble and dastardly when alone&mdash;in keeping a dashing <i>impure</i>,
      who publicly squanders away his money, and privately laughs at his follies&mdash;in
      buying a phaeton as high as a two pair of stairs <span class="pagenum">[44]</span>window,
      and a dozen of spanking bays at Tattersall's, and in dashing through St.
      James's Street, Pall Mall, Piccadilly, and Hyde Park, thus accompanied and
      accoutred, amidst the contumelies of the coxcombs and the sighs of the
      worthy. And these are pictures of high life, of which the originals are to
      be seen daily.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The haberdasher of Cheapside, whose father, by adherence to the most
      rigid economy, had amassed a competence, and who transmitted his property,
      without his prudence, to his darling son, is determined to shew his
      spirit, by buying a <i>bit of blood</i>, keeping his gig, his girl, and a
      thatched cottage on the skirts of Epping Forest, or Sydenham Common; but
      as keeping a girl and a gig would be a nothing unless all the world were
      <i>up to it</i>, he regularly drives her to all the boxing-matches, the
      Epping hunt, and all the races at Barnet, Epsom, Egham, and Ascot Heath,
      where he places himself in one of the most conspicuous situations; and as
      he knows his racing, &amp;c. must eventually distinguish his name in the
      Gazette with a whereas! he rejoices in the progress and acceleration of
      his own ruin, and, placing his arms akimbo, he laughs, sings, swears,
      swaggers, and vociferates&mdash;'What d'ye think o' that now,&mdash;is'nt
      this doing it in stile, eh?'
    </p>
    <p>
      "Prime of life to go it, where's a place like London? Four in hand to-day,
      the next you may be undone."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page044.jpg" alt="Page44 Epson Racers " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      "Well, Sir, the mercer's wife, from Watling Street, thinks living in style
      is evinced by going once a year to a masquerade at the new Museodeum, or
      Argyle Rooms; having her daughters taught French, dancing, and music&mdash;dancing
      a minuet at Prewterers' Hall, or Mr. Wilson's{1} annual benefit&mdash;in
      getting a good situation in the green boxes&mdash;going to Hampstead or
      Copenhagen House in a glass coach on a Sunday&mdash;having card-parties at
      home
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Mr. Wilson's flaming bills of "Dancing at the Old Bailey,"
     which are so profusely stuck up about the city, are said to
     have occasioned several awkward jokes and blunders; among
     others related, is that of a great unintellectual Yorkshire
     booby, who, after staring at the bills with his mouth open,
     and his saucer eyes nearly starting out of his head with
     astonishment, exclaimed, "Dang the buttons on't, I zee'd urn
     dangling all of a row last Wednesday at t' Ould Bailey, but
     didn't know as how they call'd that danzing,&mdash;by gum there
     be no understanding these here Lunnun folk!"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[45]</span>during Lent, declaring she never drinks
      any thing else but the <i>most bestest</i> gunpowder tea, that she has a
      most <i>screwciating</i> cold, and that the country air is always <i>salubrus</i>,
      and sure to do her good.
    </p>
    <p>
      "So much for living in style, and good breeding."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "That's your true breeding&mdash;that's your sort my boys&mdash;
          Fun, fire, and pathos&mdash;metre, mirth, and noise;
          To make you die with laughter, or the hiccups,
          Tickle your favourites, or smash your tea-cups."
</pre>
    <p>
      "By the way, in former times the term <i>good-breeding</i> meant a
      combination of all that was amiable and excellent; and a well-bred person
      would shrink from an action or expression that could possibly wound the
      feelings of another; its foundation was laid in truth, and its supporting
      pillars were justice and integrity, sensibility and philanthropy; but
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "In this gay age&mdash;in Taste's enlighten'd times,
          When Fashion sanctifies the basest crimes;
          E'en not to swear and game were impolite,
          Since he who sins in <i>style</i> must sure be right."
</pre>
    <p>
      A well-bred person must learn to smile when he is angry, and to laugh even
      when he is vexed to the very soul.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It would be the height of <i>mauvaise honte</i> for a wellbred person to
      blush upon any occasions whatever; no young lady blushes after eleven
      years of age; to study the expression of the countenance of others, in
      order to govern your own, is indispensably necessary.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In former times, no well-bred person would have uttered a falsehood; but
      now such ideas are completely exploded, and such conduct would now be
      termed a <i>bore</i>. My Lord Portly remarks, 'It is a cold day.' 'Yes, my
      Lord, it is a very cold day,' replies Major Punt. In two minutes after,
      meeting Lord Lounge, who observes he thinks the weather very warm&mdash;'Yes,
      very warm, my Lord,' is the reply&mdash;thus contradicting himself almost
      in the same breath. It would be perfectly inconsistent in a well-bred man
      to think, for fear of being absent. When he enters or leaves a
      drawing-room, he should round his shoulders, drop his head, and imitate a
      clown or a coachman. This has the effect of the best <i>ruse de guerre</i>&mdash;for
      it serves to astonish the ladies, when they afterwards <span
      class="pagenum">[46]</span>discover, by the familiarity of his address,
      and his unrestrained manners, what a well-bred man he is; for he will
      address every fair one in the room in the most enchanting terms, except
      her to whom in the same party he had previously paid the most particular
      attention; and on her he will contrive to turn his back for the whole
      evening, and if he is a man of fashion, he will thus cause triumph to the
      other ladies, and save the neglected fair one from envious and slanderous
      whisperings."
    </p>
    <p>
      "An admirable picture of living in style, and good breeding, indeed!"
      cried Tom. "The game is in view and well worth pursuit; so hark forward!
      hark forward! my boys."
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle, now recollecting his engagement&mdash;with "you know who" as he
      significantly observed in the last Chapter, withdrew, after promising to
      take a stroll by way of killing an hour or two with them in the morning;
      and Tom and his Cousin soon after retired to rest&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Perchance to sleep, perchance to dream."
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The alarm was so strong.
          So loud and so long,
          'Twas surely some robber, or sprite,
          Who without any doubt
          Was prowling about
          To fill ev'ry heart with affright."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[47]</span>THE smiles of a May morning, bedecked
      with the splendid rays of a rising sun, awakened Tallyho about five
      o'clock, and being accustomed to rise early in the country, he left the
      downy couch of soft repose, and sought his way down stairs. Not a sound of
      any kind was to be heard in the house, but the rattling of the carts and
      the coaches in the streets, with the deep-toned accompaniment of a
      dustman's bell, and an occasional <i>ab libitum</i> of "Clothes&mdash;clothes
      sale," gave Bob an idea that all the world was moving. However he could
      find nobody up; he walked into the drawing-room, amused himself for some
      time by looking out of the window, indulging his observations and remarks,
      without knowing what to make of the moving mass of incongruities which met
      his eye, and wondering what time the servants of the house would wake: he
      tried the street-door, but found it locked, bolted, and chained; and if he
      had known where to have found his friend Tom, he would have aroused him
      with <i>the View halloo</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is strange," thought he to himself, "all the world seems abroad, and
      yet not a soul stirring here!" Then checking the current of his
      reflections, "But this," said he, "is Life in London. Egad! I must not
      make a noise, because it will not be <i>good breeding</i>." In this wray
      he sauntered about the house for near two hours, till at last espying his
      portmanteau, which had been left in the passage by the servants the
      previous evening&mdash;"I'll carry this up stairs," said he, "by way of
      amusement;" and carelessly shouldering the portmanteau, he was walking
      <span class="pagenum">[48]</span>deliberately up stairs, when his ears
      were suddenly attracted by a loud cry of "Murder, murder, thieves,
      murder!" and the violent ringing of a bell. Alarmed at these extraordinary
      sounds, which appeared to be near him at a moment when he conceived no
      soul was stirring, he dropped his portmanteau over the banisters, which
      fell, (demolishing in its way an elegant Grecian patent lamp with glass
      shades, drops, &amp;c.) into the passage below with a hideous crash, while
      the cry of Murder, thieves, murder, was repeated by many voices, and
      rendered him almost immoveable. In the next moment, the butler, the cook,
      the groom, and indeed every person in the house, appeared on the
      stair-case, some almost in a state of nudity, and shrinking from each
      other's gaze, and all armed with such weapons as chance had thrown in
      their way, to attack the supposed depredator.
    </p>
    <p>
      Among the rest, fortunately for Tallyho, (who stood balancing himself
      against the banisters in a state of indecision whether he should ascend or
      descend) Tom Dashall in his night-gown burst out of his room in alarm at
      the noise, with a brace of pistols, one in his hand in the very act of
      cocking it, and the other placed in convenient readiness under his left
      arm. "Why, what the devil is the matter?" vociferated he, and at that
      moment his eye caught the agitated figure of his Cousin Bob, on the
      half-landing place below him. At the sound of his well-known voice, the
      innocent and unsuspecting cause of this confusion and alarm looked up at
      his friend, as if half afraid and half ashamed of the occurrence, and
      stammered out, "Where is the thief?&mdash;Who is murdered?&mdash;I'll
      swear there is something broke somewhere&mdash;tell me which way to go!"
      Tom looked around him at the group of half-clad nymphs and swains, (who
      were now huddling together, conceiving their security lay in combination,
      and finding all eyes were placed with astonishment and wonder on Bob)
      began to see through what had happened, and burst into an immoderate fit
      of laughter; which relieved the frightened damsels, but so confounded poor
      Tallyho, that he scarcely knew whether he was standing on his head or his
      heels. "Why," said Tom, addressing himself to his Cousin, "you will get
      yourself murdered if you go wandering about people's houses at the dead of
      the night in this manner&mdash;are you asleep or awake?&mdash;who have you
      made an assignation with&mdash;or <span class="pagenum">[49]</span>where
      are you going to&mdash;what are you up to, Master Bobby, eh?&mdash;These
      tricks won't do here!"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Is't Love's unhallow'd flame invites to roam,
          And bids you from your pillow creep?
          Or say, why thus disturb my peaceful home,
          Like Macbeth, who doth murder sleep."
</pre>
    <p>
      Tallyho was unable to reply: he looked down over the banister&mdash;he
      looked up at the risible features of Tom Dashall, who was almost bursting
      at the ludicrous situation in which he found his friend and his servants.
      "Come," said Tom, "there are no thieves&mdash;all's right"&mdash;to the
      servants, "you may quiet your minds and go to business. Bob, I'll be down
      with you presently." Upon this, the stair-case was cleared in an instant
      of all but the unfortunate Tallyho; and peace appeared to be restored in
      the family, but not to Bob's mind, conceiving he had committed a gross
      violation of good breeding, and shewn but a bad specimen of his aptitude
      to become a learner of London manners. It must be confessed, it was rather
      an awkward commencement; however, in a few minutes, recovering himself
      from the fright, he crawled gently down the stairs, and took a survey of
      the devastation he had made&mdash;cursed the lamp, d&mdash;&mdash;d the
      portmanteau&mdash;then snatching it from the ruin before him, and again
      placing his luggage on his shoulder, he quietly walked up stairs to his
      bed-room.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is much to be lamented in this wonderful age of discovery and continual
      improvement, that our philosophers have not yet found out a mode of
      supplying the place of glass (as almost every thing else) with cast-iron.
      The substitution of gas for oil has long been talked of, as one of
      national importance, even so much so, that one man, whose ideas were as
      brilliant as his own experiments, has endeavoured to shew that its produce
      would in a short time pay off the national debt!{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      "A consummation devoutly to be wished;" and experience has taught the
      world at large there is nothing impossible, nor is there any one in
      existence more credulous than honest John Bull. But we are
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Mr. Winsor, the original lecturer on the powers of gas, in
     Pall Mall.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[50]</span>digressing from the adventure of the
      lamp, however it was occasioned, by clearly proving it was not a <i>patent
      safety-lamp</i>: and that among the luxuries of the Hon. Tom Dashall's
      habitation, gas had not yet been introduced, will speedily be discovered.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon arriving in his bed-room, wondering within himself how he should
      repair the blundering mistake, of which he had so unluckily been the
      unwilling and unconscious author, he found himself in a new dilemma, as
      the receptacle of the oil had fallen with the lamp, and plentifully
      bedewed the portmanteau with its contents, so that he had now transferred
      the savoury fluid to his coat, waistcoat, cravat, and shirt. What was to
      be done in such a case? He could not make his appearance in that state;
      but his mortifications were not yet at an end&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Hills over hills, and Alps on Alps arise."
</pre>
    <p>
      The key of his portmanteau was missing; he rummaged all his pockets in
      vain&mdash;he turned them inside out&mdash;it was not here&mdash;it was
      not there; enraged at the multiplicity of disappointments to which he was
      subjected, he cut open the leathern carriage of his wardrobe with a
      penknife; undressed, and re-dressed himself; by which time it was
      half-past eight o'clock. His Cousin Tom, who had hurried down according to
      promise, had in the mean time been making enquiry after him, and now
      entered the room, singing,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "And all with attention would eagerly mark:
          When he cheer'd up the pack&mdash;Hark! to Rockwood hark! hark!"
</pre>
    <p>
      At the sight of Dashall, he recovered himself from his embarrassment, and
      descended with him to the breakfast-parlour.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Did you send to Robinson's?" enquired Tom of one of the servants, as they
      entered the room. "Yes, Sir," was the reply; "and Weston's too?" continued
      he; being answered in the affirmative, "then let us have breakfast
      directly." Then turning to Bob, "Sparkle," said he, "promised to be with
      us about eleven, for the purpose of taking a stroll; in the mean time we
      must dress and make ready."&mdash;"Dress," said Bob, "Egad! I have dressed
      and made ready twice already this morning." He then <span class="pagenum">[51]</span>recounted
      the adventures above recorded; at which Dashall repeatedly burst into fits
      of immoderate laughter. Breakfast being over, a person from Mr. Robinson's
      was announced, and ushered into the room.
    </p>
    <p>
      A more prepossessing appearance had scarcely met Bob's eye&mdash;a tall,
      elegant young man, dressed in black, cut in the extreme of fashion, whose
      features bespoke intelligence, and whose air and manner were indicative of
      a something which to him was quite new. He arose upon his entrance, and
      made a formal bow; which was returned by the youth. "Good morning,
      gentlemen."&mdash;"Good morning, Mr. R&mdash;&mdash;," said Tom,
      mentioning a name celebrated by
    </p>
    <p>
      Pope in the following lines:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "But all my praises, why should lords engross?
          Bise, honest Muse, and sing the man of Boss."
</pre>
    <p>
      "I am happy to have the honour of seeing you in town again, Sir! The
      fashionables are mustering very strong, and the prospect of the
      approaching coronation appears to be very attractive." During this time he
      was occupied in opening a leathern case, which contained combs, brushes,
      &amp;c.; then taking off his coat, he appeared in a jacket with an apron,
      which, like a fashionable <i>pinafore</i> of the present day, nearly
      concealed his person, from his chin to his toes. "Yes," replied Dashall,
      "the coronation is a subject of deep importance just now in the circles of
      fashion," seating himself in his chair, in readiness for the operator,{1}
      who, Bob now discovered, was no other than the <i>Peruquier</i>.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The progress of taste and refinement is visible in all
     situations, and the language of putting has become so well
     understood by all ranks of society, that it is made use of
     by the most humble and obscure tradesmen of the metropolis.
     One remarkable instance ought not to be omitted here. In a
     narrow dirty street, leading from the Temple towards
     Blackfriars, over a small triangular-fronted shop, scarcely
     big enough to hold three persons at a time, the eye of the
     passing traveller is greeted with the following welcome
     information, painted in large and legible characters, the
     letters being each nearly a foot in size:&mdash;

                   HAIR CUT AND MODERNIZED!!!

     This is the true "<i>Multum in parvo</i> "&mdash;a combination of
     the "<i>Utile et dulce</i>," the very acme of perfection.
     Surely, after this, to Robinson, Vickery, Boss, and Cryer, we
     may say&mdash;"Ye lesser stars, hide your diminished heads."

     The art of puffing may be further illustrated by the
     following specimen of the Sublime, which is inserted here
     for the information of such persons as, residing in the
     country, have had no opportunity of seeing the original.
     "R&mdash;&mdash; makes gentlemen's and ladies' perukes on an entire
     new system; which for lightness, taste, and ease, are
     superior to any other in Europe. He has exerted the genius
     and abilities of the first artists to complete his
     exhibition of ornamental hair, in all its luxuriant
     varieties, where the elegance of nature and convenience of
     art are so blended, as at once to rival and ameliorate each
     other. Here his fair patrons may uninterruptedly examine the
     effects of artificial tresses, or toupees of all
     complexions, and, in a trial on themselves, blend the
     different tints with their own!"

     The strife for pre-eminence in this art is not however
     confined to this country; for we find an instance recorded
     in an American newspaper, which may perhaps be equally
     amusing and acceptable:&mdash;

     "A. C. D. La vigne, having heard of the envious expressions
     uttered by certain common barbers, miserable chin-scrapers,
     and frizulary quacks, tending to depreciate that superiority
     which genius is entitled to, and talents will invariably
     command, hereby puts them and their vulgar arts at defiance;
     and, scorning to hold parley with such sneaking imps,
     proposes to any gentleman to defend and maintain, at his
     shop, the head quarters of fashion, No. 6, South Gay Street,
     against all persons whomsoever, his title to supremacy in
     curlery, wiggery, and razory, to the amount of one hundred
     dollars and upwards. As hostile as he is to that low style
     of puffery adopted by a certain adventurer, 'yclept Higgins,
     Lavigne cannot avoid declaring, in the face of the world,
     that his education has been scientifical; that after having
     finished his studies at Paris, he took the tour of the
     universe, having had the rare fortune of regulating the
     heads of Catherine the Second, and the Grand Turk; the King
     of Prussia, and the Emperor of China; the Mamelukes of
     Egypt, and the Dey of Algiers; together with all the ladies
     of their respective Courts. He has visited the Cape of Good
     Hope, India, Java, Madagascar, Tartary, and Kamschatka,
     whence he reached the United States by the way of Cape Horn.
     In England he had previously tarried, where he delivered
     Lectures on Heads in great style. He has at last settled in
     Baltimore, determined to devote the remainder of his days to
     the high profession to which his des-tiny has called him;
     inviting all the literati, the lovers of the arts and
     sciences, to visit him at his laboratory of beauty, where he
     has separate rooms for accommodating ladies and gentlemen,
     who desire to adorn their heads with <i>hair</i>udition. "Can
     France, England&mdash;nay, the world itself, produce such
     another specimen of puffing and barberism?
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[53]</span>"And pray," continued Tom, "what is there
      new in the haut ton? Has there been any thing of importance to attract
      attention since my absence? "Nothing very particular," was the reply&mdash;"all
      very dull and flat. Rumour however, as usual, has not been inactive; two
      or three trifling faux pas, and&mdash;oh!&mdash;yes&mdash;two duels&mdash;one
      in the literary world: two authors, who, after attacking each other with
      the quill, chose to decide their quarrel with the pistol, and poor Scot
      lost his life! But how should authors understand such things? The other
      has made a great noise in the world&mdash;You like the Corinthian cut, I
      believe, Sir?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I believe so too," said Tom&mdash;"but don't you cut the duel so short&mdash;who
      were the parties?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh! aye, why one, Sir, was a celebrated leader of ton, no other than Lord
      Shampêtre, and the other Mr. Webb, a gentleman well known: it was a sort
      of family affair. His lordship's gallantry and courage, however, were put
      to the test, and the result bids fair to increase his popularity. The
      cause was nothing very extraordinary, but the effect had nearly proved
      fatal to his Lordship."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What, was he wounded?" enquired Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It was thought so at first," replied the <i>Peruquier</i>, "but it was
      afterwards discovered that his Lordship had only fainted at the report of
      his opponent's pistol."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha! ha! ha!" said Tom, "then it was a bloodless battle&mdash;but I should
      like to know more of the particulars."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hold your head a little more this way, Sir, if you please&mdash;that will
      do, I thank you, Sir;&mdash;why, it appears, that in attempting to fulfil
      an assignation with Mr. Webb's wife, the husband, who had got scent of the
      appointment, as to place and time, lustily cudgelled the dandy Lord
      Whiskerphiz, and rescued his own brows from certain other fashionable
      appendages, for which he had no relish. His Lordship's whiskers were
      injured, by which circumstance some people might conceive his features and
      appearance must have been improved, however that was not his opinion; his
      bones were sore, and his mind (that is to say, as the public supposed)
      hurt. The subject became a general theme of conversation, a Commoner had
      thrashed a Lord!&mdash;flesh and blood could not bear it&mdash;but then
      such flesh and blood could as little bear the thought of a duel&mdash;Lord
      Polly was made the bearer of a challenge&mdash;a meeting took place, and
      at the first fire his Lordship fell. A fine subject for the caricaturists,
      and they have not failed to make a good use of it. The fire of his
      Lordship's features <span class="pagenum">[54]</span>was so completely
      obscured by his whiskers and mustachios, that it was immediately concluded
      the shot had proved mortal, till Lord Polly (who had taken refuge for
      safety behind a neighbouring tree) advancing, drew a bottle from his
      pocket, which, upon application to his nose, had the desired effect of
      restoring the half-dead duellist to life and light. The Seconds
      interfered, and succeeded in bringing the matter to a conclusion, and
      preventing the expected dissolution of Shampetre, who, report says, has
      determined not to place himself in such a perilous situation again. The
      fright caused him a severe illness, from which he has scarcely yet
      recovered sufficiently to appear in public&mdash;I believe that will do,
      Sir; will you look in the glass&mdash;can I make any alteration?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Perhaps not in your story," replied Tom; "and as to my head, so as you do
      not make it like the one you have been speaking of, I rely solely on your
      taste and judgment."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Peruquier made his bow&mdash;"Sir, your politeness is well known!"
      then turning to Tallyho, "Will you allow me the honour of officiating for
      you, Sir?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly," replied Bob, who by this time had seen the alteration made in
      his Cousin's appearance, as well as been delighted with the account of the
      duel, at which they all laughed during the narration&mdash;and immediately
      prepared for action, while Dashall continued his enquiries as to the
      fashionable occurrences during his absence.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There have been some other circumstances, of minor importance," continued
      the Peruquier&mdash;"it is said that a certain Lord, of high military
      character, has lost considerable sums of money, and seriously impaired his
      fortune&mdash;Lord &mdash;&mdash; and a friend are completely ruined at
      hazard&mdash;there was a most excellent mill at Moulsey Hurst on Thursday
      last, between the Gas-light man, who appears to be a game chicken, and a
      prime hammerer&mdash;he can give and take with any man&mdash;and Oliver&mdash;Gas
      beat him hollow, it was all Lombard-street to a china orange. The Masked
      Festival on the 18th is a subject of considerable attraction, and wigs of
      every nature, style, and fashion, are in high request for the occasion&mdash;The
      Bob, the Tye, the Natural Scratch, the Full Bottom, the Queue, the Curl,
      the Clerical, the Narcissus, the Auricula, the Capital, the Corinthian,
      the Roman, the Spanish, the French, the Dutch&mdash;oh! we are full of
      business just now. Speaking of the art, by the by, reminds me of a
      circumstance which occurred a very <span class="pagenum">[55]</span>short
      time back, and which shows such a striking contrast between the low-bred
      citizens, and the True Blues of the West!&mdash;have the kindness to hold
      your head a little on one side, Sir, if you please&mdash;a little more
      towards the light, if you please&mdash;that will do excellently&mdash;why
      you'll look quite another thing!&mdash;From the country, I presume?" "You
      are right," said Bob, "but I don't want a wig just yet."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Shall be happy to fit you upon all occasions&mdash;masquerade, ball, or
      supper, Sir: you may perhaps wish to go out, as we say in the West, in
      coy.&mdash;happy to receive your commands at any time, prompt attention
      and dispatch."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds! you are clipping the wig too close," said Tom, impatient to hear
      the story, "and if you go on at this rate, you won't leave us even the <i>tail</i>
      (tale)."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Right, Sir, I take&mdash;'and thereby hangs a tale.' The observation is
      in point, <i>verbum sat</i>, as the latinist would say. Well, Sir, as I
      was saying, a citizen, with a design to outdo his neighbours, called at
      one of the first shops in London a very short time since, and gave
      particular orders to have his <i>pericranium</i> fitted with a wig of the
      true royal cut. The dimensions of his upper story were taken&mdash;the
      order executed to the very letter of the instructions&mdash;it fitted like
      wax&mdash;it was nature&mdash;nay it soared beyond nature&mdash;it was the
      perfection of art&mdash;the very acmé of science! Conception was outdone,
      and there is no power in language to describe it. He was delighted; his
      wife was charmed with the idea of a new husband, and he with his new wig;
      but
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "Now comes the pleasant joke of all,
     'Tis when too close attack'd we fall."
</pre>
    <p>
      The account was produced&mdash;-would you believe it, he refused to have
      it&mdash;he objected to the price."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The devil take it!" said Tom, "object to pay for the acme of perfection;
      this unnaturally natural wig would have fetched any money among the
      collectors of curiosities."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What was the price?" enquired Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Trifling, Sir, very trifling, to an artist 'of the first water,' as a
      jeweller would say by his diamonds&mdash;only thirty guineas!!!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Thirty guineas!" exclaimed Bob, starting from his seat, and almost
      overturning the <i>modernizer</i> of his head.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[56]</span>Then, recollecting Sparkle's account of
      Living in Style, and Good Breeding, falling gently into his seat again.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Did I hurt you, Sir?" exclaimed the Peruquier.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall bit his lip, and smiled at the surprise of his Cousin, which was
      now so visibly depicted in his countenance.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not at all," replied Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In two minutes more, Sir, your head will be a grace to; Bond Street or
      St. James's; it cuts well, and looks well; and if you will allow me to
      attend you once a month, it will continue so."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom hummed a tune, and looked out of the window; the other two were silent
      till Bob was released. Tom <i>tip'd the blunt</i>, and the interesting
      young man made his congé, and departed.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A very interesting and amusing sort of person," said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," replied Tom, "he is a walking volume of information: he knows
      something of every thing, and almost of every body. He has been in better
      circumstances, and seen a great deal of life; his history is somewhat
      remarkable, and some particulars, not generally known, have excited a
      considerable portion of interest in his fate among those who are
      acquainted with them. He is the son, before marriage, of a respectable and
      worthy tradesman, a celebrated vender of bear's grease,{1} lately
      deceased, who
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The infallibility of this specimen cannot possibly be
     doubted, after reading the following

          Advertisement:
          "Bear's grease has virtues, many, great and rare;
          To hair decay'd, life, health, and vigour giving;

          'Tis sold by&mdash;&mdash;, fam'd for cutting hair,

          At &mdash;&mdash;-.&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;- living.

          Who then would lose a head of hair for trying?
          A thousand tongues are heard 'I won't,' replying;

          T&mdash;&mdash;r no doubt with bear's grease can supply
          A thousand more, when they're dispos'd to buy.

     No deception!&mdash;Seven Bears publicly exhibited in seven
     months, and not an agent on the globe's surface.&mdash;Sold upon
     oath, from 1L. to 10s. 6d.   The smallest child will direct
     to &mdash;&mdash;, near the church&mdash;a real Bear over the door,
     where a good peruke is charged 1L.. 10s. equal to those
     produced by Mr. T., at B&mdash;&mdash;ss's, for 2L. 12s. 6d.&mdash;Scalp
     10s. 6d. and 6d. only for hair-cutting&mdash;never refusing one
     shilling.

     N. B. Bear's-grease effects wonders for the knees &amp;c. of
     horses."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[57]</span>resided in the vicinity of Cornhill, and
      was for many years brought up under his roof as his nephew; in which
      situation, the elegance of his person, the vivacity of his disposition,
      and the general information he acquired, became subjects of attraction.
      His education was respectable for his situation, and his allowance
      liberal. His father however marrying a young lady of some property, and
      he, 'gay, light, and airy,' falling into bad hands, found his finances not
      sufficient to support the company he kept, and by these means involved
      himself in pecuniary difficulties, which, however, (if report say true)
      were more than once or twice averted by the indulgent parent. In the
      course of time, the family was increased by two sons, but he continued the
      flower of the flock. At length it was intended by his father to retire, in
      part, from business, and leave its management to this young man, and
      another who had been many years in his service, and whose successful
      endeavours in promoting his interest were well deserving his
      consideration; and the writings for this purpose were actually drawn up.
      Previous however to their execution, he was dispatched to Edinburgh, to
      superintend an extensive concern of his father's in that city, where,
      meeting with an amiable young lady with some expectations, he married
      without the consent of his parent, a circumstance which drew down upon him
      the good man's displeasure.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not at all dismayed at this, he almost immediately left his father's
      shop, and set up business for himself in the same neighbourhood, where he
      continued for two or three years, living, as it was supposed, upon the
      produce of his matrimonial connexion. At length, however, it was
      discovered that he was insolvent, and bankruptcy became the consequence.
      Here he remained till affairs were arranged, and then returned to London
      with his wife and two children.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the mean time, the legitimate family of his father had become useful
      in the business, and acquainted with his former indiscretions, which,
      consequently, were not likely to be obliterated from the old gentleman's
      recollection. Without money and without prospect, he arrived in London,
      where, for some unliquidated debt, he was arrested and became a resident
      in the King's Bench, from which he was liberated by the Insolvent Debtor's
      Act. Emancipated from this, he took small shops, or rather rooms, in
      various parts of the city, vainly endeavouring to <span class="pagenum">[58]</span>support
      the character he had formerly maintained. These however proved abortive.
      Appeals to his father were found fruitless, and he has consequently, after
      a series of vicissitudes, been compelled to act as a journeyman.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the career of his youth, he distinguished himself as a dashing,
      high-spirited fellow. He was selected as fuegel man to a regiment of
      Volunteers, and made himself conspicuous at the celebrated O. P. row, at
      the opening of Covent Garden Theatre, on which occasion he attracted the
      notice of the Caricaturists,{1} and was generally known in the circles of
      High Life, by his attendance on the first families on behalf of his
      father.
    </p>
    <p>
      But perhaps the most remarkable circumstance took place at his deceased
      parent's funeral. Being so reduced at that time as to have no power even
      of providing the necessary apparel to manifest the respect, gratitude, and
      affection, he had ever entertained for the author of his being; and as a
      natural son has no legal claims upon his father, so naturally nothing was
      left for him; he applied by letter to the legitimates for a suit of
      mourning, and permission to attend the remains of their common father to
      the last receptacle of mortality, which being peremptorily refused, he
      raised a subscription, obtained clothing, with a gown and hatband, and, as
      the melancholy procession was moving to the parish church, which was but a
      few yards distance, he rushed from his hiding-place, stationed himself
      immediately in the front of the other attendants upon the occasion, and
      actually accompanied the corpse as chief mourner, having previously
      concerted with his own mother to be upon the spot. When the body was
      deposited in the vault, he took her by the hand, led her down the steps,
      and gave some directions to the bearers as to the situation of the coffin,
      while the other mourners, panic-struck at the extraordinary circumstances
      in which they found themselves, turned about and walked in mournful
      silence back, ruminating on the past with amazement, and full of
      conjecture for the future.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 A caricature of a similar nature to the one alluded to by
     Dashall in this description, was certainly exhibited at the
     time of the memorable 0. P. row, which exhibited a young man
     of genteel appearance in the pit of Covent Garden Theatre,
     addressing the audience.    It had inscribed at the bottom
     of it,

          Is this Barber-Ross-a?

     in allusion (no doubt) to the tragedy of Barbarossa.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[59]</span>"It was an extraordinary situation for
      all parties," said Bob; "but hold, who have we here?&mdash;Egad! there is
      an elegant carriage drawn up to the door; some Lord, or Nobleman, I'll be
      bound for it&mdash;We can't be seen in this deshabille, I shall make my
      escape." And saying this, he was hastening out of the room.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha! ha! ha!" exclaimed Tom, "you need not be so speedy in your flight.
      This is one of the fashionable requisites of London, with whom you must
      also become acquainted; there is no such thing as doing without them&mdash;dress
      and address are indispensables. This is no other than one of the
      decorators."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Decorators!" continued Bob, not exactly comprehending him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Monsieur le Tailleur&mdash;'Tin Mr. W&mdash;&mdash;, from Cork Street,
      come to exhibit his Spring patterns, and turn us out with the new cut&mdash;so
      pray remain where you are."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Tailor&mdash;decorator," said Bob&mdash;"Egad! the idea is almost as
      ridiculous as the representation of the taylor riding to Brentford."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time the door was opened, and Mr. W. entered, making his bow with
      the precision of a dancing-master, and was followed by a servant with
      pattern-books, the other apparatus of his trade. The first salutations
      over, large pattern-books were displayed upon the table, exhibiting to
      view a variety of fancy-coloured cloths, and measures taken accordingly.
      During which time, Tom, as on the former occasion, continued his enquiries
      relative to the occurrences in the fashionable world.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Rather tame, Sir, at present: the Queen's unexpected visit to the two
      theatres was for a time a matter of surprise&mdash;the backwardness of
      Drury Lane managers to produce 'God Save the King,' has been construed
      into disloyalty to the Sovereign&mdash;and a laughable circumstance took
      place on his going to the same house a few nights back, which has already
      been made the subject of much merriment, both in conversation and
      caricature. It appears that Mr. Gloss'em, who is a <i>shining character</i>
      in the theatrical world, at least among the minors of the metropolis; and
      whose father was for many years a wax-chandler in the neighbourhood of
      Soho, holds a situation as clerk of the cheque to the Gentlemen Pensioners
      of his Majesty's household, as well as that of Major Domo, manager and
      proprietor of a certain theatre, not half a mile from Waterloo Bridge.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[60]</span>A part of his duty in the former capacity
      is to attend occasionally upon the person of the King, as one of the
      appendages of Royalty; in which <i>character</i> he appeared on the night
      in question. The servants of the attendants who were in waiting for their
      masters, had a room appropriated to their use. One of these latter gentry,
      no other than Gloss'em's servant, being anxious to have as near a view of
      the sacred person of his Majesty as his employer, had placed himself in a
      good situation at the door, in order to witness his departure, when a Mr.
      Winpebble, of mismanaging notoriety, and also a ponderous puff, assuming
      managerial authority, espying him, desired the police-officers and guards
      in attendance to turn out the lamp-lighter's boy, pointing to Gloss'em's
      servant. This, it seems, was no sooner said than done, at the point of the
      bayonet. Some little scuffle ensued&mdash;His Majesty and suite departed&mdash;Hold
      up your arm, Sir."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But did the matter end there?" enquired Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      "O dear, no&mdash;not exactly."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Because if it did," continued Tom, "in my opinion, it began with a wax
      taper, and ended in the smoke of a farthing rushlight. You have made it
      appear to be a gas-receiver without supplies."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I beg pardon," said Mr. W.; "the pipes are full, but the gas is not yet
      turned on."
    </p>
    <p>
      This created a laugh, and Mr. W. proceeded:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "The next day, the servant having informed his Master of the treatment he
      had received, a gentleman was dispatched from Gloss'em to Winpebble, to
      demand an apology: which being refused, the former, with a large horsewhip
      under his arm, accosted the latter, and handsomely belaboured his
      shoulders with lusty stripes. That, you see, Sir, sets the gas all in a
      blaze.&mdash;That will do, Sir.&mdash;Now, Sir, at your service,"
      addressing himself to Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," said Tom, "the taper's alight again now; and pray what was the
      consequence?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Winpebble called for assistance, which was soon obtained, and away they
      went to Bow-street. Manager Taper, and Manager Vapour&mdash;the one
      blazing with fire, and the other exhausted with thrashing;&mdash;'twas a
      laughing scene. Manager Strutt, and Manager Butt, were strutting and
      butting each other. The magistrate heard the case, and recommended peace
      and quietness between <span class="pagenum">[61]</span>them, by an
      amicable adjustment. The irritated minds of the now two enraged managers
      could not be brought to consent to this. Gloss'em declared the piece
      should be repeated, having been received with the most rapturous applause.
      Winpebble roundly swore that the piece was ill got up, badly represented,
      and damn'd to all intents and purposes&mdash;that the author had more
      strength than wit&mdash;and though not a friend to injunctions himself, he
      moved for an injunction against Gloss'em; who was at length something like
      the renowned John Astley with his imitator Rees:
    </p>
    <p>
      "This great John Astley, and this little Tommy Rees, Were both bound over
      to keep the King's Peas."
    </p>
    <p>
      Gloss'em was bound to keep the peace, and compelled to find security in
      the sum of twenty pounds. Thus ended the farce of <i>The Enraged Managers&mdash;Drury
      Lane in a Blaze, or Bow Street bewildered.</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha! ha! ha! an animated sort of vehicle for public amusement truly," said
      Tom, "and of course produced with new scenery, music, dresses, and
      decorations; forming a combination of attractions superior to any ever
      exhibited at any theatre&mdash;egad! it would make a most excellent scene
      in a new pantomime."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha! ha! ha!" said Mr. W. "true, Sir, true; and the duel of Lord Shampetre
      would have also its due portion of effect; but as his Lordship is a good
      customer of mine, you must excuse any remarks on that circumstance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "We have already heard of his Lordship's undaunted courage and firmness,
      as well as the correctness of his aim."
    </p>
    <p>
      "He! he! he!" chuckled W.; "then I fancy your information is not very
      correct, for it appears his lordship displayed a want of every one of
      those qualities that you impute to him; however, I venture to hope no
      unpleasant measures will result from the occurrence, as I made the very
      pantaloons he wore upon the occasion. It seems he is considerably <i>cut
      up</i>; but you must know that, previous to the duel, I was consulted upon
      the best mode of securing his sacred person from the effects of a bullet:
      I recommended a very high waistband lined with whale-bone, and well padded
      with horse-hair, to serve as a breast-plate, and calculated at once to
      produce warmth, and resist <span class="pagenum">[62]</span>penetration.
      The pantaloons were accordingly made, thickly overlaid with extremely rich
      and expensive gold lace, and considered to be stiff enough for any thing&mdash;aye,
      even to keep his Lordship erect. But what do you suppose was the effect of
      all my care? I should not like to make a common talk of it, but so it
      certainly was: his Lordship had no objection to the whalebone, buckram,
      &amp;c. outside of him, but was fearful that if his antagonist's fire
      should be well-directed, his tender body might be additionally hurt by the
      splinters of the whalebone being carried along with it, and actually
      proposed to take them off before the dreadful hour of appointment came on.
      In this however he was fortunately overruled by his Second, who, by the
      by, was but a goose in the affair, and managed it altogether very badly,
      except in the instance of being prompt with the smelling-bottle, which
      certainly was well-timed; and it would have been a hissing hot business,
      but for the judicious interference of the other Second."
    </p>
    <p>
      A loud laugh succeeded this additional piece of information relative to
      the <i>affair of honour</i>; and Snip having finished his measurement,
      colours were fixed upon, and he departed, promising to be punctual in the
      delivery of the new habiliments on the next day.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am now convinced," said Bob, "of the great importance and utility of a
      London tradesman, and the speed of their execution is wonderful!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," replied Tom, "it is only to be equalled by the avidity with which
      they obtain information, and the rapidity with which they circulate it&mdash;why,
      in another half hour your personal appearance, the cut of your country
      coat, your complexion and character, as far as so short an interview would
      allow for obtaining it, will be known to all his customers&mdash;they are
      generally quick and acute discerners. But come, we must be making ready
      for our walk, it is now half-past ten o'clock&mdash;Sparkle will be here
      presently. It is time to be dressing, as I mean to have a complete ramble
      during the day, take a chop somewhere on the road, and in the evening, my
      boy, we'll take a peep into the theatre. Lord Byron's tragedy of Marino
      Faliero is to be performed to-night, and I can, I think, promise you a
      treat of the highest kind."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho, who had no idea of dressing again, having already been obliged to
      dress twice, seemed a little surprised at the proposition, but supposing
      it to be the <span class="pagenum">[63]</span>custom of London, nodded
      assent, and proceeded to the dressing-room. As he walked up stairs he
      could not help casting his visual orbs over the banisters, just to take a
      bird's eye view of the scene of his morning disasters, of which, to his
      great astonishment and surprise, not a vestige remained&mdash;a new lamp
      had been procured, which seemed to have arisen like a phoenix from its
      ashes, and the stone passage and stairs appeared as he termed it, "as
      white as a cauliflower." At the sight of all this, he was gratified and
      delighted, for he expected to find a heap of ruins to reproach him. He
      skipped, or rather vaulted up the stairs, three or four at a stride, with
      all the gaiety of a race-horse when first brought to the starting-post.
      The rapid movements of a Life in London at once astonished and enraptured
      him; nor did he delay his steps, or his delight, until he had reached the
      topmost story, when bursting open the door, lie marched boldly into the
      room. Here again he was at fault; a female shriek assailed his ear, which
      stopped his course, and looking around him, he could not find from whence
      the voice proceeded. "Good God!" continued the same voice, "what can be
      the meaning of this intrusion?&mdash;Begone, rash man." In the mean time,
      Tom, who was in a room just under the one into which he had unfortunately
      made so sudden an entrance, appeared at the door.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What the devil is the matter now?" said Tom; when spying his cousin in
      the centre of the room, without seeming to know whether to return or
      remain, he could not restrain his laughter. Tallyho looked up, like one in
      a dream&mdash;then down&mdash;then casting his eyes around him, he
      perceived in the corner, peeping out from the bed-curtains in which she
      had endeavoured to hide her almost naked person, the head of the old
      Housekeeper. The picture was moving, and at the same time laughable. The
      confusion of Bob&mdash;the fright of the Housekeeper, and the laughter of
      Tom, were subjects for the pencil of a Hogarth!
    </p>
    <p>
      "So," said Tom, "you are for springing game in all parts of the house, and
      at all times too. How came you here?"&mdash;"Not by my appointment, Sir,"
      replied the old lady, who still remained rolled up in the curtain. "I
      never did such a thing in all my born days: I'm an honest woman, and mean
      to remain so. I never was so ashamed in all my life."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[64]</span>"I believe the house is enchanted," cried
      Bob; "d&mdash;&mdash; me, I never seem to step without being on a barrel
      of gunpowder, ready to ignite with the touch of my foot. I have made some
      cursed blunder again, and don't seem to know where I am."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come, come," said Dashall, "that won't do&mdash;I'm sure you had some
      design upon my Housekeeper, who you hear by her own account is a good
      woman, and won't listen to your advances."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time the servants had arrived at the door, and were alternately
      peeping in, wondering to see the two gentlemen in such a situation, and
      secretly giggling and enjoying the embarrassment of the old woman, whose
      wig lay on the table, and who was displaying her bald pate and shrivelled
      features from the bed-curtains, enveloped in fringe and tassels, which
      only served to render them still more ludicrous.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob affected to laugh; said it was very odd&mdash;he could not account for
      it at all&mdash;stammered out something like an apology&mdash;begg'd
      pardon&mdash;it was&mdash;a mistake&mdash;he really took it for his own
      room&mdash;he never was so bewildered in his life&mdash;was very sorry he
      should cause so much alarm&mdash;but really had no sort of intention
      whatever.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," said Dashall, "the best reparation you can now make for your
      intrusion is a speedy retreat. Time is escaping, so come along;" and
      taking him by the arm, they walked down the stairs together, and then
      proceeded to re-fit without further obstruction, in order to be ready for
      Sparkle, who was expected every minute.
    </p>
    <p>
      The first day of Bob's residence in London had already been productive of
      some curious adventures, in which he, unfortunately as he considered, had
      sustained the principal character&mdash;a character not altogether
      suitable to is inclinations or wishes, though productive of much merriment
      to his ever gay and sprightly Cousin, who had witnessed the embarrassment
      of his pupil upon his first entrance into Life with ungovernable laughter.
      It was to him excellent sport, while it furnished a good subject of
      speculation and conversation among the servants below, but was not so well
      relished by the affrighted old house-keeper. Indeed, the abrupt entrance
      of a man into her bed-chamber had so deranged her ideas, that she was
      longer than usual in decking her person previous to her <span
      class="pagenum">[65]</span>re-appearance. The tender frame of the old lady
      had been subjected to serious agitations at the bare idea of such a visit,
      and the probable imputations that might in consequence be thrown upon her
      sacred and unspotted character; nor could she for some time recover her
      usual serenity.
    </p>
    <p>
      Such was the situation of the parties at the moment we are now describing;
      but as our Heroes are preparing for an extensive, actual survey of men,
      manners, and tilings, we shall for the present leave them in peace and
      quietness, while we proceed to the next chapter.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          What shows! and what sights! what a round of delights
          You'll meet in the gay scene of London;
          How charming to view" amusements still new,
          Twenty others you'll find soon as one's done.
          At the gay scene at Court&mdash;Peers and gentry resort,
          In pleasure you'll never miss one day:
          There's the Opera treat, the parade in Bond Street,
          And the crowd in Hyde Park on a Sunday.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[66]</span>TOM, whose wardrobe was extensive, found
      no difficulty, and lost no time in preparing for the promenade; while, on
      the other hand, Tallyho was perplexed to know how to tog himself out in a
      way suitable to make his appearance in the gay world of fashion. Dashall
      had therefore rapidly equipped himself, when, perceiving it was half-past
      eleven, he was the more perplexed to account for the absence of Sparkle;
      for although it was an early hour, yet, upon such an occasion as that of
      initiating a new recruit, it was very extraordinary that he should not
      have been prompt. However, he entered Tallyho's room, and found him
      looking out of the window in a posture of rumination, probably revolving
      in his mind the events of the morning.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Tom, as he entered, "'tis time to be on the move, and if
      Sparkle don't show in a few minutes, we'll set sail and call in upon him
      at Long's, in Bond Street. Perhaps he is not well, or something prevents
      his appearance&mdash;we'll make it in our way, and we have a fine day
      before us."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am at your service," replied Bob, who could not help viewing the
      elegance of his Cousin's appearance: the style of his dress, and the
      neatness with which his garments fitted him, were all subjects of
      admiration, and formed so strong a contrast with his own as almost to
      excite envy. He had however attired himself in a way that befits a
      fashionable country gentleman: a green coat, white waistcoat, buckskin
      breeches, and boots, over <span class="pagenum">[67]</span>which a pair of
      leggings appeared, which extended below the calf of the leg and half up
      the thigh, surmounted with a <i>Lily Shallow</i>. Such was the costume in
      which he was destined to show off; and thus equipped, after a few minutes
      they emerged from the house in Piccadilly on the proposed ramble, and
      proceeded towards Bond Street.
    </p>
    <p>
      The first object that took their particular attention was the Burlington
      Arcade. "Come," said Tom, "we may as well go this way," and immediately
      they passed the man in the gold-laced hat, who guards the entrance to
      prevent the admission of boys and improper persons. The display of the
      shops, with the sun shining through the windows above, afforded much for
      observation, and attracted Bob from side to side&mdash;to look, to wonder
      and admire. But Tom, who was intent upon finding his friend Sparkle, urged
      the necessity of moving onward with more celerity, lest he should be gone
      out, and consequently kept drawing his Cousin forward. "Another and a
      better opportunity will be afforded for explanation than the present, and
      as speed is the order of the day, I hope you will not prove disorderly; we
      shall soon reach Long's, and when we have Sparkle with us, we have one of
      the most intelligent and entertaining fellows in the world. He is a sort
      of index to every thing, and every body; his knowledge of life and
      character, together with a facetiousness of whim and manner, which he has
      in delineating them, are what we call in London&mdash;<i>Prime and bang up
      to the mark</i>. There is scarcely a Lane, Court, Alley, or Street, in the
      Metropolis, but what he knows, from the remotest corners of Rag-Fair, to
      the open and elegant Squares of the West, even to Hyde Park Corner.
      Memory, mirth, and magic, seem at all times to animate his tongue, and, as
      the Song says,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "He is the hoy for bewitching 'em,
          Whether good-humour'd or coy."
</pre>
    <p>
      Indeed, he is the admiration of all who know him; wit, whim, frolic, and
      fun, are constant companions with him, and I really believe, in a dungeon
      or a palace, he would always appear the same."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had reached Bond Street, in their way to which, each
      step they had taken, the streets and avenues of every description appeared
      to Bob to be crowded to an excess; the mingling cries which were <span
      class="pagenum">[68]</span>vociferated around them produced in his mind
      uncommon sensations. The rattling of the carriages, the brilliance of the
      shops, and the continual hum of the passengers, contributed to heighten
      the scene.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Bond Street," said Dashall, "is not one of the most elegant streets in
      the vicinity of London, but is the resort of the most fashionable people,
      and from about two o'clock till five, it is all bustle&mdash;all life&mdash;every
      species of fashionable vehicle is to be seen dashing along in gay and
      gallant pride. From two to five are the fashionable shopping-hours, for
      which purpose the first families resort to this well-known street&mdash;others,
      to shew their equipage, make an assignation, or kill a little time; which
      is as much a business with some, as is the more careful endeavours of
      others to seize him in his flight, and make the most of his presence. The
      throng is already increasing; the variety, richness, and gaiety of the
      shops in this street, will always be attractive, and make it a popular
      rendezvous of both sexes. It will shortly be as crowded as Rag Fair, or
      the Royal Exchange; and the magic splendour has very peculiar properties.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It makes the tradesman forget&mdash;while he is cheating a lovely and
      smiling Duchess&mdash;that in all probability her ladyship is endeavouring
      to cheat him. It makes the gay and airy, the furbelowed and painted lady
      of the town, forget that she must pay a visit to her uncle,{1} in order to
      raise the wind before she can make her appearance at the theatre at
      half-price. It makes the dashing prisoner forget, that while "he is
      sporting his figure in the bang-up style of appearance, he is only taking
      his ride on a day-rule from the King's Bench. It makes the Lord who drives
      four-in-hand forget his losses of the night before at some of the
      fashionable gaming-houses. It makes one adventurer forget that the clothes
      in which he expects to obtain respect and attention, are more than likely
      to be paid for in Newgate; another for a time forgets that <i>John Doe</i>
      and <i>Richard Roe</i> have expelled him from his
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 My Uncle is a very convenient and accommodating sort of
     friend, who lives at the sign of the Three Balls, indicative
     of his willingness to lend money upon good security, for the
     payment of enormous interest. The original meaning of the
     sign has puzzled the curious and antiquarians, and the only
     probable meaning they can discover is, that it implies the
     chances are two to one against any property being redeemed
     after being once committed to the keeping of this tender
     hearted and affectionate relative.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[69]</span>lodgings; and a third that all his
      worldly possessions are not equal to the purchase of a dinner. It is an <i>ignis
      fatuus</i>&mdash;a sort of magic lantern replete with delusive appearances&mdash;of
      momentary duration&mdash;an escape to the regions of noise, tumult,
      vanity, and frivolity, where the realities of Life, the circumstances and
      the situation of the observer, are not suffered to intrude.
    </p>
    <p>
      "But to be seen in this street at a certain hour, is one of the essentials
      to the existence of <i>haut-ton</i>&mdash;it is the point of attraction
      for greetings in splendid equipages, from the haughty bend or familiar nod
      of arrogance, to the humble bow of servility. Here mimicry without money
      assumes the consequential air of independence: while modest merit creeps
      along unheeded through the glittering crowd. Here all the senses are
      tantalized with profusion, and the eye is dazzled with temptation, for no
      other reason than because it is the constant business of a fashionable
      life&mdash;not to live in, but out of self, to imitate the luxuries of the
      affluent without a tithe of their income, and to sacrifice morality at the
      altar of notoriety."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your description of this celebrated street, of which I have heard so
      much," said Tallyho, "is truly lively."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But it is strictly true," continued Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      They had now arrived at Long's, and found a barouche and four waiting at
      the door. Upon entering, the first person they met was Lord Cripplegate,
      whom they passed, and proceeded to the coffee-room; in one of the boxes of
      which Tom immediately directed his Cousin's attention to a well-dressed
      young man, who was reading the newspaper, and sipping his coffee&mdash;"Take
      notice of him," said Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob looked at him for a moment, marked his features, and his dress, which
      was in the extreme of fashion; while Tom, turning to one of the Waiters,
      enquired for his friend Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "He has not been here since yesterday morning!" said the Waiter.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have been waiting for him these two hours!" exclaimed the young Sprig
      of Fashion, laying down the newspaper almost at the same moment, "and must
      wait till he comes&mdash;Ah! Mr. Dashall, how d'ye do?&mdash;-very glad to
      see you&mdash;left all well in the country, I hope!&mdash;Mr. Sparkle was
      to have met me this morning at eleven precisely, I should judge he is gone
      into the country."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It must have been late last night, then," said Dashall, <span
      class="pagenum">[70]</span>"for he left us about half-past ten, and
      promised also to meet us again this morning at eleven; I can't think what
      can have become of him&mdash;but come," said he, taking Bob by the arm,
      "we must keep moving&mdash;Good morning&mdash;good morning." And thus
      saying, walked directly out of the house, turning to the right again
      towards Piccadilly.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is a remark made, I think by Goldsmith," said Tom, "that one half
      of the world don't know how the other half lives; and the man I spoke to
      in the coffee-room, whose name I am unacquainted with, though his person
      is recognized by almost every body, while his true character, residence,
      and means of subsistence, remain completely in obscurity, from what I have
      seen of him, I judge is what may be termed a <i>hanger on</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A hanger on," said Bob&mdash;"what can that mean? I took him for a man of
      property and high birth&mdash;but I saw you take so little notice of him."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ah! my good fellow, I have already cautioned you not to be duped by
      appearances. A <i>hanger on</i> is a sort of sycophant, or toad-eater,
      and, in the coffee-houses and hotels of London, many such are to be found&mdash;men
      who can <i>spin out a long yarn</i>, tell a tough story, and tip you <i>a
      rum chant</i>&mdash;who invite themselves by a freedom of address
      bordering on impudence to the tables and the parties of persons they know,
      by pretending to call in by mere accident, just at the appointed time: by
      assuming great confidence, great haste, little appetite, and much
      business; but, at the same time, requiring but little pressure to forego
      them all for the pleasure of the company present. What he can have to do
      with Sparkle I am at a loss to conceive; but he is an insinuating and an
      intriguing sort of fellow, whom I by no means like, so I cut him."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob did not exactly understand the meaning of the word cut, and therefore
      begged his Cousin to explain.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The cut," said Tom, "is a fashionable word for getting rid, by rude or
      any means, of any person whose company is not agreeable. The art of <i>cutting</i>
      is reduced to a system in London; and an explanatory treatise has been
      written on the subject for the edification of the natives.{1} But I am so
      bewildered to think what can have detained Sparkle, and deprived us of his
      company, that I scarcely know how to think for a moment on any other
      subject at present."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Vide a small volume entitled "The Cutter."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[71]</span>"It is somewhat strange!" cried Bob,
      "that he was not with you this morning."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is some mystery in it," said Tom, "which time alone can unravel;
      but however, we will not be deprived of our intended ramble." At this
      moment they entered Piccadilly, and were crossing the road in their way to
      St. James's Street, when Dashall nodded to a gentleman passing by on the
      opposite side, and received a sort of half bow in return. "That," said
      Tom, "is a curious fellow, and a devilish clever fellow too&mdash;for
      although he has but one arm, he is a man of science."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In what way?" enquired Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "He is a pugilist," said Tom&mdash;"one of those courageous gentlemen who
      can queer the daylights, tap the claret, prevent telling fibs, and pop the
      noddle into chancery; and a devilish good hand he is, I can assure you,
      among those who
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     &mdash;&mdash;"can combat with ferocious strife,
     And beat an eye out, or thump out a life;
     Can bang the ribs in, or bruise out the brains,
     And die, like noble blockheads, for their pains."
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page071.jpg" alt="Page71 Fives Court " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      "Having but one arm, of course he is unable to figure in the ring&mdash;though
      he attends the mills, and is a constant visitor at the Fives Court
      exhibitions, and generally appears <i>a la Belcher</i>. He prides himself
      upon flooring a novice, and hits devilish hard with the glove. I have had
      some lessons from this amateur of the old English science, and felt the
      force of his fist; but it is a very customary thing to commence in a
      friendly way, till the knowing one finds an opportunity which he cannot
      resist, of shewing the superiority he possesses. So it was with Harry and
      me, when he put on his glove. I use the singular number, because he has
      but one hand whereon to place a glove withal. Come, said he, it shall only
      be a little innocent spar. I also put on a glove, for it would not be fair
      to attack a one-armed man with two, and no one ought to take the odds in
      combat. To it we went, and I shewed <i>first blood</i>, for he tapped <i>the
      claret</i> in no time.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Neat <i>milling we had</i>, what with <i>clouts on the nob</i>, Home hits
      in the <i>bread-basket</i>, clicks in the gob, And plumps in the
      daylights, a prettier treat Between two <i>Johnny Raws</i> 'tis not easy
      to meet."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[72]</span>"I profited however by Harry's lessons,
      and after a short time was enabled to return the compliment with interest,
      by sewing up one of his <i>glimmers</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This is St. James's Street," continued he, as they turned the corner
      rather short; in doing which, somewhat animated by the description he had
      just been giving, Tom's foot caught the toe of a gentleman, who was
      mincing along the pathway with all the care and precision of a
      dancing-master, which had the effect of bringing him to the ground in an
      instant as effectually as a blow from one of the fancy. Tom, who had no
      intention of giving offence wantonly, apologized for the misfortune, by&mdash;"I
      beg pardon, Sir," while Bob, who perceived the poor creature was unable to
      rise again, and apprehending some broken bones, assisted him to regain his
      erect position. The poor animal, or nondescript, yclept Dandy, however had
      only been prevented the exercise of its limbs by the stiffness of certain
      appendages, without which its person could not be complete&mdash;the <i>stays</i>,
      lined with whalebone, were the obstacles to its rising. Being however
      placed in its natural position, he began in an affected blustering tone of
      voice to complain that it was d&mdash;&mdash;d odd a gentleman could not
      walk along the streets without being incommoded by puppies&mdash;pulled
      out his quizzing glass, and surveyed our heroes from head to foot&mdash;then
      taking from his pocket a smelling bottle, which, by application to the
      nose, appeared to revive him, Tom declared he was sorry for the accident,
      had no intention, and hoped he was not hurt. This, however, did not appear
      to satisfy the offended Dandy, who turned upon his heel muttering to
      himself the necessity there was of preventing drunken fellows from
      rambling the streets to the annoyance of sober and genteel people in the
      day-time.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall, who overheard the substance of his ejaculation, broke from the
      arm of Bob, and stepping after him without ceremony, by a sudden wheel
      placed himself in the front of him, so as to impede his progress a second
      time; a circumstance which filled Mr. Fribble with additional alarm, and
      his agitation became visibly' depicted on his countenance.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What do you mean?" cried Dashall, with indignation, taking the imputation
      of drunkenness at that early hour in dudgeon. "Who, and what are you,
      <span class="pagenum">[73]</span>Sir?{1} Explain instantly, or by the
      honour of a gentleman, I'll chastise this insolence."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 "What are you?" is a formidable question to a dandy of the
     present day, for

          "Dandy's a gender of the doubtful kind;
          A something, nothing, not to be defined;
          'Twould puzzle worlds its sex to ascertain,
          So very empty, and so very vain."

     It is a fact that the following examination of three of
     these non-descripts took place at Bow Street a very short
     time back, in consequence of a nocturnal fracas. The report
     was thus given:

     "Three young sprigs of fashion, in full dress, somewhat
     damaged and discoloured by a night's lodging in the cell of
     a watch-house, were yesterday brought before Mr. Birnie,
     charged with disorderly conduct in the streets, and with
     beating a watchman named Lloyd.

     "Lloyd stated that his beat was near the Piazza, and at a
     very late hour on Thursday night, the three defendants came
     through Covent Garden, singing, and conducting themselves in
     the most riotous manner possible. They were running, and
     were followed by three others, all in a most uproarious
     state of intoxication, and he thought proper to stop them;
     upon which he was <i>floored san-ceremonie</i>, and when he
     recovered his legs, he was again struck, and called '<i>a b&mdash;&mdash;y
     Charley</i>,' and other ungenteel names.    He called for
     the assistance of some of his brethren, and the defendants
     were with some trouble taken to the watch-house. They were
     very jolly on the way, and when lodged in durance, amused
     themselves with abusing the Constable of the night, and took
     especial care that no one within hearing of the watch-house
     should get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night.

     Mr. Birnie.&mdash;"Well young gentleman, what have you to say to
     this?" The one who undertook to be spokesman, threw himself
     in the most familiar manner possible across the table, and
     having fixed himself perfectly at his ease, he said, "The
     fact was, they had been dining at a tavern, and were rather
     drunk, and on their way through the Piazza, they endeavoured
     by running away to give the slip to their three companions,
     who were still worse than themselves. The others, however
     called out Stop thief! and the watchman stopped them;
     whereat they naturally felt irritated, and certainly gave
     the watchman a bit of a thrashing."

     Mr. Birnie.&mdash;"How was he to know you were not the thieves?
     He did quite right to stop you, and I am very glad he has
     brought you here&mdash;Pray, Sir, what are you?" Defendant.&mdash;"I
     am nothing, Sir." Mr. Birnie (to another).&mdash;"And what are
     you?" Defendant.&mdash;"Why, Sir, I am&mdash;I am, Sir, nothing." Mr.
     Birnie.&mdash;"Well, this is very fine.   Pray, Sir, (turning to
     the third, who stood twirling his hat) will you do me the
     favour to tell what you are?"

     This gentleman answered in the same way. "I am, as my
     friends observed, nothing."

     Mr. Birnie.&mdash;"Well, gentlemen, I must endeavour to make
     something of you. Here, gaoler, let them he locked up, and I
     shall not part with them until I have some better account of
     their occupations."

     We have heard it asserted, that Nine tailors make a man. How
     many Dandies, professing to be Nothing, may be required to
     accomplish the proposed intention of making Something, may
     (perhaps by this time) be discovered by the worthy
     Magistrate. We however suspect he has had severe work of it.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[74]</span>"Leave me alone," exclaimed the almost
      petrified Dandy.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not till you have given me the satisfaction I have a right to demand,"
      cried Tom. "I insist upon an explanation and apology&mdash;or demand your
      card&mdash;who are you, Sir? That's my address," instantly handing him a
      card. "I am not to be played with, nor will I suffer your escape, after
      the insulting manner in which you have spoken, with impunity."
    </p>
    <p>
      Though not prepared for such a rencontre, the Dandy, who now perceived the
      inflexible temper of Tom's mind&mdash;and a crowd of people gathering
      round him&mdash;determined at least to put on as much of the character of
      a man as possible, and fumbled in his pocket for a card; at length finding
      one, he slipped it into Tom's hand. "Oh, Sir," said he, "if that's the
      case, I'm your man, <i>demmee</i>,&mdash;how, when, or where you please,
      'pon honor." Then beckoning to a hackney coach, he hobbled to the door,
      and was pushed in by coachee, who, immediately mounted the box and
      flourishing his whip, soon rescued him from his perilous situation, and
      the jeers of the surrounding multitude.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom, who in the bustle of the crowd had slipped the card of his antagonist
      into his pocket, now took Bob's arm, and they pursued their way down St.
      James's Street, and could not help laughing at the affair: but Tallyho,
      who had a great aversion to duelling, and was thinking of the
      consequences, bit his lips, and expressed his sorrow at what had occurred;
      he ascribed the hasty imputation of drunkenness to the irritating effects
      of the poor creature's accident, and expressed his hope that his cousin
      would take no further notice of it. Tom, however, on the other <span
      class="pagenum">[75]</span>hand, ridiculed Bob's fears&mdash;told him it
      was a point of honour not to suffer an insult in the street from any man&mdash;nor
      would he&mdash;besides, the charge of drunkenness from such a thing as
      that, is not to be borne. "D&mdash;&mdash;n it, man, drunkenness in the
      early part of the day is a thing I abhor, it is at all times what I would
      avoid if possible, but at night there may be many apologies for it; nay in
      some cases even to avoid it is impossible. The pleasures of society are
      enhanced by it&mdash;the joys of love are increased by the circulation of
      the glass&mdash;harmony, conviviality and friendship are produced by it&mdash;though
      I am no advocate for inebriety, and detest the idea of the beast&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Who clouds his reason by the light of day,
          And falls to drink, an early and an easy prey."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Well," said Bob, "I cannot help thinking this poor fellow, who has
      already betrayed his fears, will be inclined to make any apology for his
      rudeness to-morrow."
    </p>
    <p>
      "If he does not," said Tom, "I'll wing him, to a certainty&mdash;a
      jackanapes&mdash;a puppy&mdash;a man-milliner; perhaps a thing of shreds
      and patches&mdash;he shall not go unpunished, I promise you; so come
      along, we will just step in here, and I'll dispatch this business at once:
      I'll write a challenge, and then it will be off my hands." And so saying,
      they entered a Coffee-house, where, calling for pen, ink and paper, Tom
      immediately began his epistle, shrewdly hinting to his Cousin, that he
      expected he would act as his Second. "It will be a fine opportunity for
      introducing your name to the gay world&mdash;the newspapers will record
      your name as a man of ton. Let us see now how it will appear:&mdash;On
      &mdash;&mdash; last, the Honourable Tom Dashall, attended by his Cousin,
      Robert Tallyho, Esq. of Belleville Hall, met&mdash;ah, by the bye, let us
      see who he is," here he felt in his pocket for the card.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob, however, declared his wish to decline obtaining popularity by being
      present upon such an occasion, and suggested the idea of his calling upon
      the offender, and endeavouring to effect an amicable arrangement between
      them.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hallo!" exclaimed Tom with surprise, as he drew the card from his pocket,
      and threw it on the table&mdash;"Ha, ha, ha,&mdash;look at that."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho looked at the card without understanding it. "What does it mean?"
      said he.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[76]</span>"Mean," replied Tom, "why it is a
      Pawnbroker's duplicate for a Hunting Watch, deposited with his uncle this
      morning in St. Martin's Lane, for two pounds&mdash;laughable enough&mdash;well,
      you may dismiss your fears for the present; but I'll try if I can't find
      my man by this means&mdash;if he is worth finding&mdash;at all events we
      have found a watch."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob now joined in the laugh, and, having satisfied the Waiter, they
      sallied forth again.
    </p>
    <p>
      Just as they left the Coffee-house, "Do you see that Gentleman in the blue
      great coat, arm in arm with another? that is no other than the &mdash;&mdash;.
      You would scarcely conceive, by his present appearance, that he has
      commanded armies, and led them on to victory; and that having retired
      under the shade of his laurels, he is withering them away, leaf by leaf,
      by attendance at the <i>hells</i>{1} of the metropolis; his unconquerable
      spirit still actuating him in his hours of relaxation. It is said that the
      immense sum awarded to him for his prowess in war, has been so materially
      reduced by his inordinate passion for play, that although he appears at
      Court, and is a favourite, the demon Poverty stares him in the face. But
      this is a vile world, and half one hears is not to be believed. He is
      certainly extravagant, fond of women, and fond of wine; but all these
      foibles are overshadowed with so much glory as scarcely to remain
      perceptible. Here is the Palace," said Tom, directing his Cousin's
      attention to the bottom of the street.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob was evidently struck at this piece of information, as he could
      discover no mark of grandeur in its appearance to entitle it to the
      dignity of a royal residence.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is true," said Tom, "the outside appearance is not much in its favour;
      but it is venerable for its antiquity, and for its being till lately the
      place at which the Kings of this happy Island have held their Courts. On
      the site of that palace originally stood an hospital, founded before the
      conquest, for fourteen leprous females, to whom eight brethren were
      afterwards added, to assist in the performance of divine service."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very necessary," said Bob, "and yet scarcely sufficient."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Hells&mdash;The abode or resort of black-legs or gamblers,
     where they assemble to commit their depredations on the
     unwary. But of these we shall have occasion to enlarge
     elsewhere.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[77]</span>"You seem to quiz this Palace, and are
      inclined to indulge your wit upon old age. In 1532, it was surrendered to
      Henry viii. and he erected the present Palace, and enclosed St. James's
      Park, to serve as a place of amusement and exercise, both to this Palace
      and Whitehall. But it does not appear to have been the Court of the
      English Sovereigns, during their residence in town, till the reign of
      Queen Ann, from which time it has been uniformly used as such.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is built of brick; and that part which contains the state apartments,
      being only one story high, gives it a regular appearance outside. The
      State-rooms are commodious and handsome, although there is nothing very
      superb or grand in the decorations or furniture.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The entrance to these rooms is by a stair-case which opens into the
      principal court, which you now see. At the top of the stair-case are two
      rooms; one on the left, called the Queen's, and the other the King's
      Guard-room, leading to the State-apartments. Immediately beyond the King's
      Guard-room is the Presence-chamber, which contains a canopy, and is hung
      with tapestry; and which is now used as a passage to the principal rooms.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is a suite of five rooms opening into each other successively,
      fronting the Park. The Presence-chamber opens into the centre room, which
      is denominated the Privy-chamber, in which is a canopy of flowered-crimson
      velvet, generally made use of for the King to receive the Quakers.
    </p>
    <p>
      "On the right are two drawing-rooms, one within the other. At the upper
      end of the further one, is a throne with a splendid canopy, on which the
      Kings have been accustomed to receive certain addresses. This is called
      the Grand Drawing-room, and is used by the King and Queen on certain state
      occasions, the nearer room being appropriated as a kind of ante-chamber,
      in which the nobility, &amp;c. are permitted to remain while their
      Majesties are present in the further room, and is furnished with stools,
      sofas, &amp;c. for the purpose. There are two levee-rooms on the left of
      the privy-chamber, on entering from the King's guard-room and
      presence-chamber, the nearer one serving as an ante-chamber to the other.
      They were all of them, formerly, meanly furnished, but at the time of the
      marriage of our present King, they were elegantly fitted up. The walls are
      now covered with tapestry, very beautiful, and of rich colours&mdash;tapestry
      which, although it <span class="pagenum">[73]</span>was made for Charles
      II. had never been used, having by some accident lain unnoticed in a
      chest, till it was discovered a short time before the marriage of the
      Prince.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The canopy of the throne was made for the late-Queen's birth-day, the
      first which happened after the union of Great Britain and Ireland. It is
      made of crimson velvet, with very broad gold lace, embroidered with crowns
      set with fine and rich pearls. The shamrock, emblematical of the Irish
      nation, forms a part of the decorations of the British crown, and is
      executed with great taste and accuracy.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The grand drawing-room contains a large, magnificent chandelier of
      silver, gilt, but I believe it has not been lighted for some years; and in
      the grand levee-room is a very noble bed, the furniture of which is of
      Spitalfields manufacture, in crimson velvet. It was first put up with the
      tapestry, on the marriage of the present King, then Prince of Wales.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is upon the whole an irregular building, chiefly consisting of several
      courts and alleys, which lead into the Park. This, however, is the age of
      improvement, and it is said that the Palace will shortly be pulled down,
      and in the front of St. James's Street a magnificent triumphal arch is to
      be erected, to commemorate the glorious victories of the late war, and to
      form a grand entrance to the Park.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Duke of York, the Duke of Clarence, the King's servants, and many
      other dignified persons, live in the Stable-yard."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the Stable-yard!" said Bob, "dignified persons reside in a
      Stable-yard, you astonish me!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is quite true," said Tom, "and remember it is the Stable-yard of a
      King."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I forgot that circumstance," said Bob, "and that circumstances alter
      cases. But whose carriage is this driving with so much rapidity?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "That is His Highness the Duke of York, most likely going to pay a visit
      to his royal brother, the King, who resides in a Palace a little further
      on: which will be in our way, for it is yet too early to see much in the
      Park: so let us proceed, I am anxious to make some inquiry about my
      antagonist, and therefore mean to take St. Martin's Lane as we go along."
    </p>
    <p>
      With this they pursued their way along Pall Mall. The rapidity of Tom's
      movements however afforded little opportunity for observation or remark,
      till they <span class="pagenum">[79]</span>arrived opposite Carlton House,
      when he called his Cousin's attention to the elegance of the new streets
      opposite to it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," said he, "is Waterloo Place, which, as well as the memorable
      battle after which it is named, has already cost the nation an immense sum
      of money, and must cost much more before the proposed improvements are
      completed: it is however, the most elegant street in London. The want of
      uniformity of the buildings has a striking effect, and gives it the
      appearance of a number of palaces. In the time of Queen Elizabeth there
      were no such places as Pall Mall, St. James's-street, Piccadilly, nor any
      of the streets or fine squares in this part of the town. That building at
      the farther end is now the British Fire-office, and has a pleasing effect
      at this distance. The cupola on the left belongs to a chapel, the interior
      of which for elegant simplicity is unrivalled. To the left of the centre
      building is a Circus, and a serpentine street, not yet finished, which
      runs to Swallow Street, and thence directly to Oxford Road, where another
      circus is forming, and is intended to communicate with Portland Place; by
      which means a line of street, composed of all new buildings, will be
      completed. Of this dull looking place (turning to Carlton House) although
      it is the town-residence of our King, I shall say nothing at present, as I
      intend devoting a morning, along with you, to its inspection. The exterior
      has not the most lively appearance, but the interior is magnificent."&mdash;During
      this conversation they had kept moving gently on.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page079.jpg" alt="Page79 the Kings Levee " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      Bob was charmed with the view down Waterloo Place.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," said his Cousin, pointing to the Arcade at the opposite corner of
      Pall Mall, "is the Italian Opera-house, which has recently assumed its
      present superb appearance, and may be ranked among the finest buildings in
      London. It is devoted to the performance of Italian operas and French
      ballets, is generally open from December to July, and is attended by the
      most distinguished and fashionable persons. The improvements in this part
      are great. That church, which you see in the distance over the tops of the
      houses, is St. Martin's in the fields."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the fields," inquired Bob; "what then, are we come to the end of the
      town?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[80]</span>"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Tom&mdash;"the end&mdash;no,
      no,&mdash;I was going to say there is no end to it&mdash;no, we have not
      reached any thing like the centre."
    </p>
    <p>
      "<i>Blood an owns, boderation and blarney</i>," (said an Irishman, at that
      moment passing them with a hod of mortar on his shoulder, towards the new
      buildings, and leaving an ornamental patch as he went along on Bob's
      shoulder) "but I'll be a'ter <i>tipping turnups</i>{l} to any b&mdash;&mdash;dy
      rogue that's tip to saying&mdash;<i>Black's the white of the blue part of
      Pat Murphy's eye</i>; and for that there matter," dropping the hod of
      mortar almost on their toes at the same time, and turning round to Bob&mdash;"By
      the powers! I ax the Jontleman's pardon&mdash;tho' he's not the first
      Jontleman that has carried mortar&mdash;where is that <i>big, bully-faced
      blackguard</i> that I'm looking after?" During this he brushed the mortar
      off Tallyho's coat with a snap of his fingers, regardless of where or on
      whom he distributed it.
    </p>
    <p>
      The offender, it seemed, had taken flight while Pat was apologizing, and
      was no where to be found.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why what's the matter?" inquired Tom; "you seem in a passion."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Och! not in the least bit, your honour! I'm only in a d&mdash;&mdash;d
      rage. By the mug of my mother&mdash;arn't it a great shame that a
      Jontleman of Ireland can't walk the streets of London without having <i>poratees
      and butter-milk</i> throw'd in his gums?"&mdash;Hitching up the waistband
      of his breeches&mdash;"It won't do at all at all for Pat: its a reflection
      on my own native land, where&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Is hospitality,
          All reality,
          No formality
          There you ever see;
          The free and easy
          Would so amaze ye,
          You'd think us all crazy,
          For dull we never be."
</pre>
    <p>
      These lines sung with an Irish accent, to the tune of "Morgan Rattler,"
      accompanied with a snapping of his fingers, and concluded with a something
      in imitation of
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 <i>Tipping Turnups</i>&mdash;This is a phrase made use of among the
     <i>prigging</i> fraternity, to signify a turn-up&mdash;which is to
     knock down.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[81]</span>an Irish jilt, were altogether so truly
      characteristic of the nation to which he belonged, as to afford our Heroes
      considerable amusement. Tom threw him a half-crown, which he picked up
      with more haste than he had thrown down the mortar in his rage.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Long life and good luck to the Jontleman!" said Pat. "Sure enough, I
      won't be after drinking health and success to your Honour's pretty
      picture, and the devil pitch into his own cabin the fellow that would be
      after picking a hole or clapping a dirty patch on the coat of St. Patrick&mdash;whiskey
      for ever, your Honour, huzza&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "A drop of good whiskey
          Would make a man frisky."
</pre>
    <p>
      By this time a crowd was gathering round them, and Tom cautioned Bob in a
      whisper to beware of his pockets. This piece of advice however came too
      late, for his <i>blue bird's eye wipe</i>{l} had taken flight.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What," said Bob, "is this done in open day?" "Are you all right and tight
      elsewhere?" said Tom&mdash;"if you are, toddle on and say nothing about
      it.&mdash;Open day!" continued he, "aye, the system of <i>frigging</i>{2}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1  <i>Blue bird's eye wipe</i>&mdash;A blue pocket handkerchief with
     white spots.

     2 A cant term for all sorts of thieving. The Life of the
     celebrated George Barrington, of Old Bailey notoriety, is
     admirably illustrative of this art; which by a more recent
     development of Hardy Vaux, appears to be almost reduced to
     a system, notwithstanding the wholesomeness of our laws and
     the vigilance of our police in their administration. However
     incredible it may appear, such is the force of habit and
     association, the latter, notwithstanding he was detected and
     transported, contrived to continue his depredations during
     his captivity, returned, at the expiration of his term, to
     his native land and his old pursuits, was transported a
     second time, suffered floggings and imprison-ments, without
     correcting what cannot but be termed the vicious
     propensities of his nature. He generally spent his mornings
     in visiting the shops of jewellers, watch-makers,
     pawnbrokers, &amp;c. depending upon his address and appearance,
     and determining to make the whole circuit of the metropolis
     and not to omit a single shop in either of those branches.
     This scheme he actually executed so fully, that he believes
     he did not leave ten untried in London; for he made a point
     of commencing early every day, and went regularly through
     it, taking both sides of the way. His practice on entering a
     shop was to request to look at gold seals,   chains,
     brooches,  rings,  or   any other   small articles of value,
     and while examining them, and looking the shopkeeper in the
     face, he contrived by sleight of hand to conceal two or
     three, sometimes more, as opportunities offered, in the
     sleeve of his coat, which was purposely made wide. In this
     practice he succeeded to a very great extent, and in the
     course of his career was never once detected in the fact,
     though on two or three occa-sions so much suspicion arose
     that he was obliged to exert all his effrontery, and to use
     very high language, in order, as the cant phrase is, to
     bounce the tradesman out of it; his fashionable appearance,
     and affected anger at his insinuations, always had the
     effect of inducing an apology; and in many such cases he has
     actually carried away the spoil, notwithstanding what passed
     between them, and even gone so far as to visit the same shop
     again a second and a third time with as good success as at
     first. This, with his nightly attendance at the Theatres and
     places of public resort, where he picked pockets of watches,
     snuff-boxes, &amp;c. was for a length of time the sole business
     of his life. He was however secured, after secreting himself
     for a time, convicted, and is now transported for life&mdash;as
     he conceives, sold by another cele-brated Prig, whose real
     name was Bill White, but better known by the title of Conky
     Beau.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[82]</span>will be acted on sometimes by the very
      party you are speaking to&mdash;the expertness with which it is done is
      almost beyond belief."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob having ascertained that his handkerchief was the extent of his loss,
      they pursued their way towards Charing Cross.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A line of street is intended," continued Tom, "to be made from the Opera
      House to terminate with that church; and here is the King's Mews, which is
      now turned into barracks."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Stop thief! Stop thief!" was at this moment vociferated in their ears by
      a variety of voices, and turning round, they perceived a well-dressed man
      at full speed, followed pretty closely by a concourse of people. In a
      moment the whole neighbourhood appeared to be in alarm. The up-stairs
      windows were crowded with females&mdash;the tradesmen were at their
      shop-doors&mdash;the passengers were huddled together in groups, inquiring
      of each other&mdash;"What is the matter?&mdash;who is it?&mdash;which is
      him?&mdash;what has he done?" while the pursuers were increasing in
      numbers as they went. The bustle of the scene was new to Bob&mdash;Charing
      Cross and its vicinity was all in motion.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Tom, "let us see the end of this&mdash;they are sure to <i>nab</i>{l}
      my gentleman before he gets much
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 <i>Nabbed or nibbled</i>&mdash;Secured or taken.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[83]</span>farther, so let us <i>brush</i>{1} on."
      Then pulling his Cousin by the arm, they moved forward to the scene of
      action.
    </p>
    <p>
      As they approached St. Martin's Lane, the gathering of the crowd, which
      was now immense, indicated to Tom a capture.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Button up," said he, "and let us see what's the matter."
    </p>
    <p>
      "<i>Arrah be easy</i>" cried a voice which they instantly recognized to be
      no other than Pat Murphy's. "I'll hold you, my dear, till the night after
      Doomsday, though I can't tell what day of the year that is. Where's the
      man wid the <i>gould-laced skull-cap</i>? Sure enough I tought I'd be up
      wi' you, and so now you see I'm down upon you."
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment a Street-keeper made way through the crowd, and Tom and Bob
      keeping close in his rear, came directly up to the principal performers in
      this interesting scene, and found honest Pat Murphy holding the man by his
      collar, while he was twisting and writhing to get released from the strong
      and determined grasp of the athletic Hibernian.
    </p>
    <p>
      Pat no sooner saw our Heroes, than he burst out with a lusty "Arroo!
      arroo! there's the sweet-looking jontleman that's been robbed by a dirty
      <i>spalpeen</i> that's not worth the tail of a rotten red-herring. I'll
      give charge of dis here pick'd bladebone of a dead donkey that walks about
      in God's own daylight, dirting his fingers wid what don't belong to him at
      all at all. So sure as the devil's in his own house, and that's London,
      you've had your pocket pick'd, my darling, and that's news well worth
      hearing"&mdash;addressing himself to Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      By this harangue it was pretty clearly understood that Murphy had been in
      pursuit of the pickpocket, and Tom immediately gave charge.
    </p>
    <p>
      The man, however, continued to declare he was not the right person&mdash;"That,
      so help him G&mdash;&mdash;d, the Irishman had got the wrong bull by the
      tail&mdash;that he was a b&mdash;&mdash;dy <i>snitch</i>{2} and that he
      would <i>sarve him out</i>{3}&mdash;that he wished
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 <i>Brush</i>&mdash;Be off.

     2 <i>Snitch</i>&mdash;A term made use of by the light-fingered tribe,
     to signify an informer, by whom they have been impeached or
     betrayed&mdash;So a person who turns king's evidence against his
     accomplices is called a Snitch.

     3 <i>Serve him out</i>&mdash;To punish, or be revenged upon any person
     for any real or supposed injury.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[84]</span>he might meet him out of St. Giles's, and
      he would <i>wake</i>{ 1} him with an <i>Irish howl</i>."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Wake with an Irish howl&mdash;An Irish Wake, which is no
     unfrequent occurrence in the neighbourhood of St. Giles's
     and Saffron Hill, is one of the most comically serious
     ceremonies which can well be conceived, and certainly
     baffles all powers of description. It is, however,
     considered indispensable to wake the body of a de-ceased
     native of the sister kingdom, which is, by a sort of mock
     lying in state, to which all the friends, relatives, and
     fellow countrymen and women, of the dead person, are
     indiscriminately admitted; and among the low Irish this duty
     is frequently performed in a cellar, upon which occasions
     the motley group of assembled Hibernians would form a
     subject for the pencil of the most able satirist.

     Upon one of these occasions, when Murtoch Mulrooney, who had
     suffered the sentence of the law by the common hangman, for
     a footpad robbery, an Englishman was induced by a friend of
     the deceased to accompany him, and has left on record the
     following account of his entertainment:&mdash;

     "When we had descended (says he) about a dozen steps, we
     found ourselves in a subterraneous region, but fortunately
     not uninhabited. On the right sat three old bawds, drinking
     whiskey and smoking tobacco out of pipes about two inches
     long, (by which means, I conceive, their noses had become
     red,) and swearing and blasting between each puff. I was
     immediately saluted by one of the most sober of the ladies,
     and invited to take a glass of the enlivening nectar, and
     led to the bed exactly opposite the door, where Murtoch was
     laid out, and begged to pray for the repose of his precious
     shoul. This, however, I declined, alleging that as the
     parsons were paid for praying, it was their proper business.
     At this moment a coarse female voice exclaimed, in a sort of
     yell or Irish howl, 'Arrah! by Jasus, and why did you die,
     honey?&mdash;Sure enough it was not for the want of milk, meal,
     or tatoes.'

     "In a remote corner of the room, or rather cellar, sat three
     draymen, five of his majesty's body guards, four sailors,
     six haymakers, eight chairmen, and six evidence makers,
     together with three bailiffs' followers, who came by turns
     to view the body, and take a drop of the <i>cratur</i> to drink
     repose to the shoul of their countryman; and to complete the
     group, they were at-tended by the journeyman Jack Ketch. The
     noise and confusion were almost stupefying&mdash;there were
     praying&mdash;swearing&mdash;crying-howling&mdash;smoking&mdash;and drinking.

     "At the head of the bed where the remains of Murtoch were
     laid, was the picture of the Virgin Mary on one side, and
     that of St. Patrick on the other; and at the feet was
     depicted the devil and some of his angels, with the blood
     running down their backs, from the flagellations which they
     had received from the disciples of Ketigern. Whether the
     blue devils were flying around or not, I could not exactly
     discover, but the whiskey and <i>blue ruin</i> were evidently
     powerful in their effects.

     "One was swearing&mdash;a second   counting  his   beads&mdash;a
     third descanting on the good qualities of his departed
     friend, and about to try those of the whiskey&mdash;a fourth
     evacuating that load with which he had already overloaded
     himself&mdash;a fifth, declaring he could carry a fare, hear
     mass, knock down a member of parliament, murder a peace
     officer, and after all receive a pension: and while the
     priest was making an assignation with a sprightly female
     sprig of Shelalah, another was jonteelly picking his pocket.
     I had seen enough, and having no desire to continue in such
     company, made my escape with as much speed as I could from
     this animated group of persons, assembled as they were upon
     so solemn an occasion."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[85]</span>With conversation of this kind, the party
      were amused up St. Martin's lane, and on the remainder of the road to
      Bow-street, followed by many persons, some of whom pretended to have seen
      a part of the proceedings, and promised to give their evidence before the
      magistrate, who was then sitting.
    </p>
    <p>
      On arriving in Bow Street, they entered the Brown Bear,{1} a public-house,
      much frequented by the officers, and in which is a strong-room for the
      safe custody of prisoners, where they were shewn into a dark back-parlour,
      as they termed it, and the officer proceeded to search the man in custody,
      when lo and behold! the handkerchief was not to be found about him.
    </p>
    <p>
      Pat d&mdash;&mdash;d the devil and all his works&mdash;swore "by the fiery
      furnace of Beelzebub, and that's the devil's own bed-chamber, that was the
      man that nibbled the Jontleman's <i>dive</i>,{2} and must have <i>ding'd
      away the wipe</i>,{3} or else what should he <i>bolt</i>{4} for?&mdash;that
      he was up to the <i>rum slum</i>,{5}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 A former landlord of the house facetiously christened it
     the Russian Hotel, and had the words painted under the sign
     of Bruin.

     2 <i>Nibbled the Jontleman's dive</i>&mdash;Picked the gentleman's
     pocket.

     3 <i>Ding'd away the wipe</i>&mdash;Passed away the handkerchief to
     another, to escape detection. This is a very common practice
     in London: two or three in a party will be near, without
     appearing to have the least knowledge of, or connexion with
     each other, and the moment a depredation is committed by
     one, he transfers the property to one of his pals, by whom
     it is conveyed perhaps to the third, who decamps with it to
     some receiver, who will immediately advance money upon it;
     while, if any suspicion should fall upon the first, the
     second will perhaps busy himself in his endeavours to secure
     the offender, well knowing no proof of possession can be
     brought against him.

     4 <i>Bolt</i>&mdash;Run away; try to make an escape.

     5 <i>Rum slum</i>&mdash;Gammon&mdash;queer talk or action, in which some
     fraudulent intentions are discoverable or suspected.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[86]</span>and down upon the <i>kiddies</i>{1}&mdash;and
      sure enough you're <i>boned,</i>{2} my dear boy."
    </p>
    <p>
      Some of the officers came in, and appeared to know the prisoner well, as
      if they had been acquainted with each other upon former official business;
      but as the lost property was not found upon him, it was the general
      opinion that nothing could be done, and the accused began to exercise his
      wit upon Murphy, which roused Pat's blood:
    </p>
    <p>
      "For the least thing, you know, makes an Irishman roar."
    </p>
    <p>
      At length, upon charging him with having been caught <i>blue-pigeon
      flying,</i>{3} Pat gave him the lie in his teeth&mdash;swore he'd fight
      him for all the <i>blunt</i>{4} he had about him, "which to be sure," said
      he, "is but a sweet pretty half-a-crown, and be d&mdash;&mdash;d to you&mdash;good
      luck to it! Here goes," throwing the half-crown upon the floor, which the
      prisoner attempted to pick up, but was prevented by Pat's stamping his
      foot upon it, while he was <i>doffing his jacket</i>,{5} exclaiming&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Arrah, be after putting your dirty fingers in your pocket, and don't
      spoil the King's picture by touching it&mdash;devil burn me, but I'll <i>mill
      your mug to muffin dust</i>{6} before I'll give up that beautiful looking
      bit; so tip us your mauley,{7} and no more blarney."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Down upon the Kiddies&mdash;To understand the arts and
     manouvres of thieves and sharpers.

     2 Boned&mdash;Taken or secured.

     s Blue pigeon flying&mdash;The practice of stealing lead from
     houses, churches, or other buildings. A species of
     depredation very prevalent in London and its vicinity, and
     which is but too much encouraged by the readiness with which
     it can be disposed of to the plumbers in general.

     4 Blunt&mdash;A flash term for money.

     5 Doffing his Jacket&mdash;Taking off his jacket.

     6 Mill your mug to muffin dust&mdash;The peculiarity of the Irish
     character for overstrained metaphor, may perhaps, in some
     degree, account for the Hibernian's idea of beating his head
     to flour, though he was afterwards inclined to commence his
     operations in the true style and character of the prize
     ring, where

     "Men shake hands before they box, Then give each other
     plaguy knocks, With all the love and kindness of a brother."

     7 Tip us your mauley&mdash;Give me your hand. Honour is so sacred
     a thing with the Irish, that the rapid transition from a
     violent expression to the point of honour, is no uncommon
     thing amongst them; and in this instance it is quite clear
     that although he meant to mill the mug of his opponent to
     muffin dust, he had a notion of the thing, and intended to
     do it in an honourable way.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[87]</span>During this conversation, the spectators,
      who were numerous, were employed in endeavouring to pacify the indignant
      Hibernian, who by this time had buffid it, or, in other words, <i>peeled
      in prime twig</i>,{1} for a regular <i>turn to.</i>{2} All was noise and
      confusion, when a new group of persons entered the room&mdash;another
      capture had been made, and another charge given. It was however with some
      difficulty that honest Pat Murphy was prevailed upon to remain a little
      quiet, while one of the officers beckoned Dashall out of the room, and
      gave him to understand that the man in custody, just brought in, was a
      well-known <i>pal</i>{3} of the one first suspected, though they took not
      the least notice of each other upon meeting. In the mean time, another
      officer in the room had been searching the person of the last captured,
      from whose bosom he drew the identical handkerchief of Bob; and the
      Irishman recollected seeing him in the crowd opposite the Opera House.
    </p>
    <p>
      This cleared up the mystery in some degree, though the two culprits
      affected a total ignorance of each other. The property of the person who
      had given the last charge was also discovered, and it was deemed
      absolutely necessary to take them before the Magistrate. But as some new
      incidents will arise on their introduction to the office, we shall reserve
      them for the next Chapter.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Buff'd it, or peeled in prime twig&mdash;Stripped to the skin
     in good order. The expressions are well known, and
     frequently in use, among the sporting characters and lovers
     of the fancy.

     2 Turn to, or set to&mdash;The commencement of a battle.

     3 Pal&mdash;A partner or confederate.
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VIII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Houses, churches, mixt together,
          Streets unpleasant in all weather;
          Prisons, palaces contiguous,
          Gates, a bridge&mdash;the Thames irriguous;
          Gaudy things, enough to tempt ye,
          Showy outsides, insides empty;
          Bubbles, trades, mechanic arts,
          Coaches, wheelbarrows, and carts;
          Warrants, bailiffs, bills unpaid,
          Lords of laundresses afraid;
          Rogues, that nightly rob and shoot men,
          Hangmen, aldermen, and footmen;
          Lawyers, poets, priests, physicians,
          Noble, simple, all conditions;
          Worth beneath a thread-bare cover,
          Villainy bedaubed all over;
          Women, black, red, fair, and grey,
          Prudes, and such as never pray;
          Handsome, ugly, noisy still,
          Some that will not, some that will;
          Many a beau without a shilling,
          Many a widow not unwilling;
          Many a bargain, if you strike it:&mdash;
          This is London&mdash;How d'ye like it?
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[88]</span>ON entering the Public Office,
      Bow-street, we must leave our readers to guess at the surprise and
      astonishment with which the Hon. Tom Dashall and his Cousin beheld their
      lost friend, Charles Sparkle, who it appeared had been kindly accommodated
      with a lodging gratis in a neighbouring watch-house, not, as it may
      readily be supposed, exactly suitable to his taste or inclination. Nor was
      wonder less excited in the mind of Sparkle at this unexpected meeting, as
      unlooked for as it was fortunate to all parties. There was however no
      opportunity at the present moment for an explanation, as the worthy
      Magistrate immediately proceeded to an investigation of the case just
      brought before him, upon which there was no difficulty in deciding. The
      charge was made, the handkerchief sworn to, and the men, who <span
      class="pagenum">[89]</span>were well known as old hands upon the town,
      committed for trial. The most remarkable feature in the examination being
      the evidence of Pat Murphy, who by this time had recollected that the man
      who was taken with the property about his person, was the very identical
      aggressor who had offended him while the hod of mortar was on his
      shoulder, before the conversation commenced between himself and Tom
      opposite the Opera-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Sure enough, your Honour," said he, "its a true bill. I'm an Irishman,
      and I don't care who knows it&mdash;I don't fight under false colours, but
      love the land of potatoes, and honour St. Patrick. That there man with the
      <i>blue toggery</i>{1} tipp'd me a bit of blarney, what did not suit my
      stomach. I dropp'd my load, which he took for an order to quit, and so <i>mizzled</i>{2}
      out of my way, or by the big bull of Ballynafad, I'd have powdered his wig
      with brick-dust, and bothered his bread-basket with a little human
      kindness in the shape of an Irishman's fist; and then that there other
      dirty end of a shelalah, while the Jontleman&mdash;long life to your
      Honour, (bowing to Tom Dashall)&mdash;was houlding a bit of conversation
      with Pat Murphy, <i>grabb'd</i>{3} his pocket-handkerchief, and was after
      shewing a leg,{4} when a little boy that kept his oglers upon 'em, let me
      into the secret, and let the cat out of the bag by bawling&mdash;Stop
      thief! He darted off like a cow at the sound of the bagpipes, and I
      boulted a'ter him like a good'un; so when I came up to him, Down you go,
      says I, and down he was; and that's all I know about the matter."
    </p>
    <p>
      As the prisoners were being taken out of court, the Hibernian followed
      them. "Arrah," said he, "my lads, as I have procured you a lodging for
      nothing, here's the half-a-crown, what the good-looking Jontleman gave me;
      it may sarve you in time of need, so take it along with you, perhaps you
      may want it more than I do; and if you know the pleasure of spending money
      that is honestly come by, it may teach you a lesson that may keep you out
      of the clutches of Jock Ketch, and save
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Blue toggery&mdash;Toggery is a flash term for clothing in
     general, but is made use of to describe a blue coat.

     2 Mizzled&mdash;Ran away.

     3 Grabb'd&mdash;Took, or stole.

     4 Shewing a leg&mdash;or, as it is sometimes called, giving leg-
     bail&mdash;making the best use of legs to escape detection.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[90]</span>you from dying in a horse's night-cap{1}&mdash;there,
      be off wid you."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Hon. Tom Dashall, who had carefully watched the proceedings of Pat,
      could not help moralizing upon this last act of the Irishman, and the
      advice which accompanied it. "Here," said he to himself, "is a genuine
      display of national character. Here is the heat, the fire, the
      effervescence, blended with the generosity and open-heartedness, so much
      boasted of by the sons of Erin, and so much eulogized by travellers who
      have visited the Emerald Isle." And slipping a sovereign into his hand,
      after the execution of a bond to prosecute the offenders, each of them
      taking an arm of Sparkle, they passed down Bow-street, conversing on the
      occurrences in which they had been engaged, of which the extraordinary
      appearance of Sparkle was the most prominent and interesting.
    </p>
    <p>
      "How in the name of wonder came you in such a scrape?" said Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Innocently enough, I can assure you," replied Sparkle&mdash;"with my
      usual luck&mdash;a bit of gig, a lark, and a turn up.{2}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "... 'Twas waxing rather late,
          And reeling bucks the street began to scour,
          While guardian watchmen, with a tottering gait,
          Cried every thing quite clear, except the hour."

     1  Horse's night-cap&mdash;A halter.

     2 A bit of gig&mdash;a lark&mdash;a turn up&mdash;are terms made use of to
     signify a bit of fun of any kind, though the latter more
     generally means a fight. Among the bucks and bloods of the
     Metropolis, a bit of fun or a lark, as they term it, ending
     in a milling match, a night's lodging in the watch-house,
     and a composition with the Charleys in the morning, to avoid
     exposure before the Magistrate, is a proof of high spirit&mdash;a
     prime delight, and serves in many cases to stamp a man's
     character. Some, however, who have not courage enough to
     brave a street-row and its consequences, are fond of fun of
     other kinds, heedless of the consequences to others. "Go it,
     my boys," says one of the latter description, "keep it up,
     huzza! I loves fun&mdash;for I made such a fool of my father last
     April day:&mdash;but what do you think I did now, eh?&mdash;Ha! ha!
     ha!&mdash;I will tell you what makes me laugh so: we were
     keeping it up in prime twig, faith, so about four o'clock in
     the morning 1 went down into the kitchen, and there was Dick
     the waiter snoring like a pig before a blazing fire&mdash;done
     up, for the fellow can't keep it up as we jolly boys do: So
     thinks 1, I'll have you, my boy&mdash;and what does I do, but I
     goes softly and takes the tongs, and gets a red hot coal as
     big as my head, and plumpt it upon the fellow's foot and run
     away, because I loves fun, you know: So it has lamed him,
     and that makes me laugh so&mdash;Ha! ha! ha!&mdash;it was what I call
     better than your <i>rappartees</i> and your <i>bobinâtes</i>. I'll
     tell you more too: you must know I was in high tip-top
     spirits, faith, so I stole a dog from a blind man&mdash;for I do
     loves fun: so then the blind man cried for his dog, and that
     made me laugh heartily: So says I to the blind man&mdash;Hallo,
     Master, what a you a'ter, what is you up to? does you want
     your dog?&mdash;Yes, Sir, says he. Now only you mark what I said
     to the blind man&mdash;Then go and look for him, old chap, says
     I&mdash;Ha! ha! ha!&mdash;that's your sort, my boy, keep it up, keep
     it up, d&mdash;&mdash; me.    That's the worst of it, I always turn
     sick when I think of a Parson&mdash;I always do; and my brother
     he is a parson too, and he hates to hear any body swear: so
     you know I always swear like a trooper when I am near him,
     on purpose to roast him. I went to dine with him one day
     last week, and there was my sisters, and two or three more
     of what you call your modest women; but I sent 'em all from
     the table, and then laugh'd at 'em, for I loves fun, and
     that was fun alive 0. And so there was nobody in the room
     but my brother and me, and I begun to swear most sweetly: I
     never swore so well in all my life&mdash;I swore all my new
     oaths; it would have done you good to have heard me swear;
     till at last my brother looked frightened, and d&mdash;&mdash; me that
     was good fun.    At last, he lifted up his hands and eyes to
     Heaven, and calls out <i>O tempora, O mores!</i> But I was not to
     be done so. Oh! oh! Brother, says I, what you think to
     frighten me by calling all your family about you; but I
     don't care for you, nor your family neither&mdash;so stow it&mdash;
     I'll mill the whole troop&mdash;Only bring your Tempora and Mores
     here, that's all&mdash;let us have fair play, I'll tip 'em the
     Gas in a flash of lightning&mdash;I'll box 'em for five pounds,
     d&mdash;&mdash; me:  here, where's Tempora and Mores, where are they?
     My eyes, how he did stare when he see me ready for a set to&mdash;
     I never laugh'd so in my life&mdash;he made but two steps out of
     the room, and left me master of the field.    What d'ye
     think of that for a lark, eh?&mdash;Keep it up&mdash;keep it up, d&mdash;&mdash;
     me, says I&mdash;so I sets down to the table, drank as much as I
     could&mdash;then I mix'd the heel-taps all in one bottle, and
     broke all the empty ones&mdash;then bid adieu to Tempora and
     Mores, and rolled home in a hackney-coach in prime and
     plummy order, d&mdash;&mdash; me."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Coming along Piccadilly last night after leaving you, I was overtaken at
      the corner of Rupert-street by our old college-companion Harry Hartwell,
      pursuing his way to the Hummums, where it seems he has taken up his abode.
      Harry, you remember, never was exactly one of us; he studies too much, and
      pores everlastingly over musty old volumes of Law Cases, Blackstone's
      Commentaries, and other black books, to qualify himself for the black art,
      and as fit and proper person to appear at the Bar. The length of time that
      had elapsed since our last meeting was sufficient inducement for us to
      crack a bottle together; <span class="pagenum">[92]</span>so taking his
      arm, we proceeded to the place of destination, where we sat talking over
      past times, and indulging our humour till half-past one o'clock, when I
      sallied forth on my return to Long's, having altogether abandoned my
      original intention of calling in Golden-square. At the corner of
      Leicester-square, my ears were assailed with a little of the night music&mdash;the
      rattles were in full chorus, and the Charleys, in prime twig,{1} were
      mustering from all quarters.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page092.jpg"
      alt="Page92 Tom and Bob Catching a Charley Napping " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      "The street was all alive, and I made my way through the crowd to the
      immediate scene of action, which was rendered peculiarly interesting by
      the discovery of a dainty bit of female beauty shewing fight with half a
      dozen watchmen, in order to extricate herself from the grasp of these
      guardians of our peace. She was evidently under the influence of the
      Bacchanalian god, which invigorated her arm, without imparting discretion
      to her head, and she laid about her with such dexterity, that the old
      files{2} were fearful of losing their prey; but the odds were fearfully
      against her, and never did I feel my indignation more aroused, than when I
      beheld a sturdy ruffian aim a desperate blow at her head with his rattle,
      which in all probability, had it taken the intended effect, would have
      sent her in search of that peace in the other world, of which she was
      experiencing so little in this. It was not possible for me to stand by, an
      idle spectator of the destruction of a female who appeared to have no
      defender, whatever might be the nature of the offence alleged or
      committed. I therefore warded off the blow with my left arm, and with my
      right gave him a well-planted blow on the conk,{3} which sent him piping
      into the kennel. In a moment I was surrounded and charged with a violent
      assault upon the charley,{4} and interfering with the guardians of the
      night in the execution of their duty. A complete diversion took place from
      the original object of their fury, and in the bustle to secure me, the
      unfortunate girl made her escape, where to, or how, heaven
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Prime twig&mdash;Any thing accomplished in good order, or with
     dexterity: a person well dressed, or in high spirits, is
     considered to be in prime twig.

     2 Old Jiles&mdash;A person who has had a long course of
     experience in the arts of fraud, so as to become an adept in
     the manouvres of the town, is termed a deep file&mdash;a rum
     file, or an old file.

     3 Conk&mdash;The nose.

     4 Charley&mdash;A watchman.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[93]</span>only knows. Upon finding this, I made no
      resistance, but marched boldly along with the scouts{1} to St. Martin's
      watch-house, where we arrived just as a hackney coach drew up to the door.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Take her in, d&mdash;&mdash;n her eyes, she shall <i>stump up the rubbish</i>{2}
      before I leave her, or give me the address of her <i>flash covey</i>,{3}
      and so here goes." By this time we had entered the watch-house, where I
      perceived the awful representative of justice seated in an arm chair, with
      a good blazing fire, smoking his pipe in consequential ease. A crowd of
      Charleys, with broken lanterns, broken heads, and other symptoms of a row,
      together with several casual spectators, had gained admittance, when
      Jarvis entered, declaring&mdash;By G&mdash;&mdash;he wouldn't be choused
      by any wh&mdash;&mdash;re or cull in Christendom, and he would make 'em
      come down pretty handsomely, or he'd know the reason why: "And so please
      your Worship, Sir"&mdash;then turning round, "hallo," said he, "Sam,
      what's becom'd of that there voman&mdash;eh&mdash;vhat, you've been
      playing booty eh, and let her escape." The man to whom this was intended
      to be addressed did not appear to be present, as no reply was made.
      However, the case was briefly explained.
    </p>
    <p>
      "But, by G&mdash;&mdash;, I von't put any thing in Sam's vay again," cried
      Jarvey.{4} For my own part, as I knew nothing of the occurrences adverted
      to, I was as much in the dark as if I had gone home without interruption.
      The representations of the Charleys proved decisive against me&mdash;in
      vain I urged the cause of humanity, and the necessity I felt of protecting
      a defenceless female from the violence of accumulating numbers, and that I
      had done no more than every man ought to have done upon such an occasion.
      <i>Old puff and swill</i>, the lord of the night, declared that I must
      have acted with malice afore-thought&mdash;that I was a pal in the
      concern, and that I had been instrumental in the design of effecting a
      rescue; and, after a very short deliberation, he concluded that I must be
      a notorious rascal, and desired me to make up my mind to remain with him
      for the remainder of the night. Not relishing this, I proposed to send for
      bail, assuring him of my
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Scouts&mdash;Watchmen.

     3 Stump up the rubbish&mdash;Meaning she (or he) shall pay, or
     find money.

     3 Flash covey&mdash;A fancy man, partner or protector

     4 Jarvey&mdash;A coachman.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[94]</span>attendance in the morning; but was
      informed it could not be accepted of, as it was clearly made out against
      me that I had committed a violent breach of the peace, and nothing at that
      time could be produced that would prove satisfactory. Under these
      circumstances, and partly induced by a desire to avoid being troublesome
      in other quarters, I submitted to a restraint which it appeared I could
      not very well avoid, and, taking my seat in an arm-chair by the fire-side,
      I soon fell fast asleep, from which I was only aroused by the occasional
      entrances and exits of the guardians, until between four and five o'clock,
      when a sort of general muster of the Charleys took place, and each one
      depositing his nightly paraphernalia, proceeded to his own habitation.
      Finding the liberation of others from their duties would not have the
      effect of emancipating me from my confinement, which was likely to be
      prolonged to eleven, or perhaps twelve o'clock, I began to feel my
      situation as a truly uncomfortable one, when I was informed by the
      watch-house keeper, who resides upon the spot, that he was going to <i>turn
      in</i>,{1} that there was fire enough to last till his wife turn'd out,
      which would be about six o'clock, and, as I had the appearance of a
      gentleman, if there was any thing I wanted, she would endeavour to make
      herself useful in obtaining it. "But Lord," said he, "there is no such
      thing as believing any body now-a-days&mdash;there was such sets out, and
      such manouvering, that nobody knew nothing of nobody."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am obliged to you, my friend," said I, "for this piece of information,
      and in order that you may understand something of the person you are
      speaking to beyond the mere exterior view, here is half-a-crown for your
      communication."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, Sir," said he, laying on at the same moment a shovel of coals, "this
      here makes out what I said&mdash;Don't you see, said I, that 'are
      Gentleman is a gentleman every inch of him, says I&mdash;as don't want
      nothing at all no more nor what is right, and if so be as how he's got
      himself in a bit of a hobble, I knows very well as how he's got the tip{2}
      in his pocket, and does'nt want for spirit to pull it out&mdash;Perhaps
      you might like some breakfast, sir?"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1  Turn in&mdash;Going to bed. This is a term most in use among
     seafaring men.

     2 Tip is synonymous with blunt, and means money.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[95]</span>"Why yes," said I&mdash;for I began to
      feel a little inclined that way.
    </p>
    <p>
      "O my wife, Sir," said he, "will do all you want, when she rouses
      herself."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I suppose," continued I, "you frequently have occasion to accommodate
      persons in similar situations?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Lord bless you! yes, sir, and a strange set of rum customers we have too
      sometimes&mdash;why it was but a few nights ago we had 'em stowed here as
      thick as three in a bed. We had 'em all upon the <i>hop</i>{1}&mdash;you
      never see'd such fun in all your life, and this here place was as full of
      curiosities as Pidcock's at Exeter Change, or Bartlemy-fair&mdash;Show 'em
      up here, all alive alive O!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Indeed!" said I, feeling a little inquisitive on the subject; "and how
      did this happen?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why it was a <i>rummish</i> piece of business altogether. There was a
      large party of dancing fashionables all met together for a little jig in
      St. Martin's lane, and a very pretty medley there was of them. The
      fiddlers wagg'd their elbows, and the lads and lasses their trotters, till
      about one o'clock, when, just as they were in the midst of a quadrille, in
      burst the officers, and quickly changed the tune. The appearance of these
      gentlemen had an instantaneous effect upon all parties present: the cause
      of their visit was explained, and the whole squad taken into custody, to
      give an account of themselves, and was brought here in hackney-coaches.
      The delicate Miss and her assiduous partner, who, a short time before had
      been all spirits and animation, were now sunk in gloomy reflections upon
      the awkwardness of their situation; and many of our inhabitants would have
      fainted when they were informed they would have to appear before the
      Magistrate in the morning, but for the well-timed introduction of a little
      drap of the <i>cratur</i>, which an Irish lady ax'd me to fetch for her.
      But the best of the fun was, that in the group we had a Lord and a Parson!
      For the dignity of the one, and the honour of the other, they were
      admitted to bail&mdash;Lord have mercy upon us! said the Parson&mdash;Amen,
      said the Lord; and this had the desired effect upon the Constable of the
      night, for he let them off on the sly, you understand: But my eyes what
      work there was in the morning! sixteen Jarveys, full of live lumber,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Hop&mdash;A dance.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[96]</span>were taken to Bow-street, in a nice
      pickle you may be sure, dancing-pumps and silk-stockings, after setting in
      the watch-house all night, and surrounded by lots of people that hooted
      and howled, as the procession passed along, in good style. They were
      safely landed at the Brown Bear, from which they were handed over in
      groups to be examined by the Magistrate, when the men were discharged upon
      giving satisfactory accounts, and the women after some questions being put
      to them. You see all this took place because they were dancing in an
      unlicensed room. It was altogether a laughable set-out as ever you see'd&mdash;the
      Dandys and the Dandyzettes&mdash;the Exquisites&mdash;the Shopmen&mdash;the
      Ladies' maid and the Prentice Boys&mdash;my Lord and his Reverence&mdash;mingled
      up higgledy-piggledy, pigs in the straw, with Bow-street Officers, Runners
      and Watchmen&mdash;Ladies squalling and fainting, Men swearing and almost
      fighting. It would have been a pleasure to have kick'd up a row that
      night, a purpose to get admission&mdash;you would have been highly amused,
      I'll assure you&mdash;good morning, Sir." And thus saying, he turned the
      lock upon me, and left me to my meditations. In about a couple of hours
      the old woman made her appearance, and prepared me some coffee; and at
      eleven o'clock came the Constable of the night, to accompany me before the
      Magistrate.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aware that the circumstances were rather against me, and that I had no
      right to interfere in other persons' business or quarrels, I consulted him
      upon the best mode of making up the matter; for although I had really done
      no more than becomes a man in protecting a female, I had certainly
      infringed upon the law, in effecting the escape of a person in custody,
      and consequently was liable to the penalty or penalties in such cases made
      and provided. On our arrival at the Brown Bear, I was met by a
      genteel-looking man, who delivered me a letter, and immediately
      disappeared. Upon breaking the seal, I found its contents as follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      Dear Sir, Although unknown to me, I have learned enough of your character
      to pronounce you a trump, a prime cock, and nothing but a good one. I am
      detained by John Doe and Richard Roe with their d&mdash;&mdash;d <i>fieri
      facias</i>, or I should be with you. However, I trust you will excuse the
      liberty I take in requesting you will make use of the enclosed for the
      purpose of shaking yourself out of the <span class="pagenum">[97]</span>hands
      of the scouts and their pals. We shall have some opportunities of meeting,
      when I will explain: in the mean time, believe me I am
    </p>
    <p>
      Your's truly,
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "With this advice, so consonant with my own opinion, I immediately
      complied; and having satisfied the broken-headed Charley, and paid all
      expences incurred, I was induced to walk into the office merely to give a
      look around me, when by a lucky chance I saw you enter. And thus you have
      a full, true, and particular account of the peregrinations of your humble
      servant."
    </p>
    <p>
      Listening with close attention to this narrative of Sparkle's, all other
      subjects had escaped observation, till they found themselves in the
      Strand.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Whither are we bound?" inquired Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "On a voyage of discoveries," replied Dashall, "and we just wanted you to
      act as pilot."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What place is this?" inquired Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," continued Sparkle, "is Somerset-house. It is a fine old building;
      it stands on the banks of the Thames, raised on piers and arches, and is
      now appropriated to various public offices, and houses belonging to the
      various offices of the Government."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The terrace, which lies on the river, is very fine, and may be well
      viewed from Waterloo Bridge. The front in the Strand, you perceive, has a
      noble aspect, being composed of a rustic basement, supporting a Corinthian
      order of columns crowned with an attic in the centre, and at the
      extremities with a balustrade. The south front, which looks into the
      court, is very elegant in its composition.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The basement consists of nine large arches; and three in the centre open,
      forming the principal entrance; and three at each end, filled with windows
      of the Doric order, are adorned with pilasters, entablatures, and
      pediments. On the key-stones of the nine arches are carved, in alto
      relievo, nine colossal masks, representing the Ocean, and the eight main
      Rivers of England, viz. <i>Thames, Humber, Mersey, Dee, Medway, Tweed,
      Tyne, and Severn</i>, with appropriate emblems to denote their various
      characters.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Over the basement the Corinthian order consists of ten columns upon
      pedestals, having their regular entablature. It comprehends two floors,
      and the attic in the centre of the front extends over three
      intercolomniations, and is divided into three parts by four colossal
      statues placed on <span class="pagenum">[98]</span>the columns of the
      order. It terminates with a group consisting of the arms of the British
      empire, supported on one side by the Genius of England, and by Fame,
      sounding the trumpet, on the other. These three open arches in the front
      form the principal entrance to the whole of the structure, and lead to an
      elegant vestibule decorated with Doric columns.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The terrace, which fronts the Thames, is spacious, and commands a
      beautiful view of part of the river, including Blackfriars, Waterloo, and
      Westminster Bridges. It is reared on a grand rustic basement, having
      thirty-two spacious arches. The arcade thus formed is judiciously relieved
      by projections ornamented with rusticated columns, and the effect of the
      whole of the terrace from the water is truly grand and noble. There is
      however, at present, no admission for the public to it; but, in all
      probability, it will be open to all when the edifice is completed, which
      would form one of the finest promenades in the world, and prove to be one
      of the first luxuries of the metropolis.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That statue in the centre is a representation of our late King, George
      the Third, with the Thames at his feet, pouring wealth and plenty from a
      large Cornucopia. It is executed by Bacon, and has his characteristic cast
      of expression. It is in a most ludicrous situation, being placed behind,
      and on the brink of a deep area.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the vestibule are the rooms of the Royal Society, the Society of
      Antiquarians, and the Royal Academy of Arts, all in a very grand and
      beautiful style. Over the door of the Royal Academy is a bust of Michael
      Angelo; and over the door leading to the Royal Society and Society of
      Antiquarians, you will find the bust of Sir Isaac Newton.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Government-offices, to which this building is devoted, are objects of
      great astonishment to strangers, being at once commodious and elegant, and
      worthy the wealth of the nation to which they belong. The hall of the Navy
      office is a fine room with two fronts, one facing the terrace and river,
      and the other facing the court. On the right is the Stamp-office: it
      consists of a multitude of apartments: the room in which the stamping is
      executed is very interesting to the curious. On the left you see the
      Pay-office of the Navy.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The principal thing to attract notice in this edifice is <span
      class="pagenum">[99]</span>the solidity and completeness of the
      workmanship in the masonry, and indeed in every other part."
    </p>
    <p>
      After taking a rather prolonged view of this elegant edifice, they again
      sallied forth into the Strand, mingling with all the noise and bustle of a
      crowded street, where by turns were to be discovered, justling each other,
      parsons, lawyers, apothecaries, projectors, excisemen, organists,
      picture-sellers, bear and monkey-leaders, fiddlers and bailiffs. The
      barber and the chimney-sweeper were however always observed to be careful
      in avoiding the touch of each other, as if contamination must be the
      inevitable consequence.
    </p>
    <p>
      "My dear fellow!" exclaimed a tall and well-dressed person, who dragged
      the Honourable Tom Dashall on one side&mdash;"you are the very person I
      wanted&mdash;I'm very glad to see you in town again&mdash;but I have not a
      moment to spare&mdash;the blood-hounds are in pursuit&mdash;this term will
      be ended in two days, then comes the long vacation&mdash;liberty without
      hiring a horse&mdash;you understand&mdash;was devilishly afraid of being
      nabb'd just now&mdash;should have been dished if I had&mdash;lend me five
      shillings&mdash;come, make haste."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Five shillings, Diddler, when am I to be paid? you remember&mdash;' When
      I grow rich' was the reply."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Know&mdash;yes, I know all about it&mdash;but no matter, I'm not going to
      settle accounts just now, so don't detain me, I hate Debtor and Creditor.
      Fine sport to-morrow, eh&mdash;shall be at the Ring&mdash;in cog.&mdash;take
      no notice&mdash;disguised as a Quaker&mdash;Obadiah Lankloaks&mdash;d&mdash;&mdash;d
      large beaver hat, and hide my physog.&mdash;Lend me what silver you have,
      and be quick about it, for I can't stay&mdash;thank you, you're a d&mdash;&mdash;a
      good fellow, Tom, a trump&mdash;shall now pop into a hack, and drive into
      another county&mdash;thank ye&mdash;good day&mdash;by by."
    </p>
    <p>
      During this harangue, while Tost was counting his silver, the ingenious
      Mr. Diddler seized all he had, and whipping it speedily into his pocket,
      in a few minutes was out of his sight.
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle observing Dashall looking earnestly after Diddler, approached, and
      giving him a lusty slap on the shoulder&mdash;"Ha! ha! ha!" exclaimed he,
      "what are you done again?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I suppose so," said Dashall; "confound the fellow, he is always
      borrowing: I never met him in my life but <span class="pagenum">[100]</span>he
      had some immediate necessity or other to require a loan of a little
      temporary supply, as he calls it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I wonder," said Sparkle, "that you are so ready to lend, after such
      frequent experience&mdash;how much does he owe you?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Heaven only knows," continued Tom, "for I do not keep account against
      him, I must even trust to his honour&mdash;so it is useless to stand here
      losing our time&mdash;Come, let us forward."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart,", said Sparkle, "and with permission I propose a visit
      to the Bonassus, a peep at St. Paul's, and a chop at Dolly's."
    </p>
    <p>
      This proposition being highly approved of, they continued their walk along
      the Strand, towards Temple Bar, and in a few minutes were attracted by the
      appearance of men dressed in the garb of the Yeomen of the Guards, who
      appeared active in the distribution of hand-bills, and surrounded a house
      on the front of which appeared a long string of high and distinguished
      names, as patrons and patronesses of the celebrated animal called the
      Bonassus. Crossing the road in their approach to the door, Tallyho could
      not help admiring the simple elegance of a shop-front belonging to a
      grocer, whose name is Peck.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very handsome and tasty, indeed," replied Sparkle; "that combination of
      marble and brass has a light and elegant effect: it has no appearance of
      being laboured at. The inhabitant of the house I believe is a foreigner, I
      think an Italian; but London boasts of some of the most elegant shops in
      the world." And by this time they entered the opposite house.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER IX
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "In London my life is a ring of delight,
          In frolics I keep up the day and the night;
          I snooze at the Hummums till twelve, perhaps later,
          I rattle the bell, and I roar up the Waiter;
          'Your Honour,' says he, and he makes me a leg;
          He brings me my tea, but I swallow an egg;
          For tea in a morning's a slop I renounce,
          So I down with a glass of good right cherry-bounce.
          With&mdash;swearing, tearing&mdash;ranting, jaunting&mdash;slashing,
          smashing&mdash;smacking, cracking&mdash;rumbling, tumbling
          &mdash;laughing, quaffing&mdash;smoking, joking&mdash;swaggering,
          Staggering:
          So thoughtless, so knowing, so green and so mellow,
          This, this is the life of a frolicsome fellow."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[101]</span>UPON entering the house, and depositing
      their shilling each to view this newly discovered animal from the
      Apalachian mountains of America, and being supplied with immense long
      bills descriptive of his form and powers&mdash;"Come along (said Sparkle,)
      let us have a look at the most wonderful production of nature&mdash;only
      seventeen months old, five feet ten inches high, and one of the most
      fashionable fellows in the metropolis."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It should seem so," said Tallyho, "by the long list of friends and
      visitors that are detailed in the commencement of the bill of fare."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Perhaps," said Tom, "there are more Bon asses than one."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very likely (continued Sparkle;) but let me tell you the allusion in this
      case does not apply, for this animal has nothing of the donkey about him,
      and makes no noise, as you will infer from the following lines in the
      Bill:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "As the Bonassus does not roar,
          His fame is widely known,
          For no dumb animal before
          Has made such noise in town."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[102]</span>At this moment the barking of a dog
      assailed their ears, and suspended the conversation. Passing onward to the
      den of the Bonassus, they found a dark-featured gentleman of middling
      stature, with his hair, whiskers, and ears, so bewhitened with powder as
      to form a complete contrast with his complexion and a black silk
      handkerchief which he wore round his neck, holding a large brown-coloured
      dog by the collar, in order to prevent annoyance to the visitors.
    </p>
    <p>
      "D&mdash;&mdash;n the dog, (exclaimed he) although he is the best tempered
      creature in the world, he don't seem to like the appearance of the
      Bonassus "&mdash;and espying Sparkle, "Ha, my dear fellow! how are you?&mdash;I
      have not seen you for a long while."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, Sir D&mdash;n&mdash;ll, I am happy to say I never was better in my
      life&mdash;allow me to introduce you to my two friends, the Hon. Mr.
      Dashall, and Robert Tallyho&mdash;Sir D&mdash;n&mdash;ll Harlequin."
    </p>
    <p>
      The mutual accompaniments of such an introduction having passed among
      them, the Knight, who was upon the moment of departure as they entered,
      expressed his approbation of the animal he had been viewing, and, lugging
      his puppy by one hand, and his cudgel in the other, wished them a good
      morning.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is an eccentric man of Title," continued Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I should judge," said Bob, "there was a considerable portion of
      eccentricity about him, by his appearance. Is he a Baronet?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "A Baronet," (replied Sparkle) "no, no, he is no other than a <i>Quack
      Doctor</i>."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Of all the subjects that afford opportunities for the
     satiric pen in the Metropolis, perhaps there is none more
     abundant or prolific than that of Quackery. Dr. Johnson
     observes, that "<i>cheats can seldom stand long against
     laughter</i>." But if a judgment is really to be formed from
     existing facts, it may be supposed that times are so
     materially changed since the residence of that able writer
     in this sublunary sphere, that the reverse of the position
     may with greater propriety be asserted. For such is the
     prevailing practice of the present day, that, according to
     the opinion of thousands, there is nothing to be done
     without a vast deal more of profession and pretence than
     actual power, and he who is the best able to bear laughing
     at, is the most likely to realize the hopes he entertains of
     obtaining celebrity, and of having his labours crowned with
     success. Nothing can be more evident than this in the
     Medical profession, though there are successful Quacks of
     all kinds, and in all situations, to be found in London.
     This may truly be called the age of Quackery, from the
     abundance of impostors of every kind that prey upon society;
     and such as cannot or will not think for themselves, ought
     to be guarded in a publication of this nature, against the
     fraudulent acts of those persons who make it their business
     and profit to deteriorate the health, morals, and amusements
     of the public. But, in the present instance, we are speaking
     of the Medical Quack only, than which perhaps there is none
     more remarkable.

     The race of Bossys, Brodrums, Solomons, Perkins, Chamants,
     &amp;c. is filled by others of equal notoriety, and no doubt of
     equal utility. The Cerfs, the Curries, the Lamerts, the
     Ruspinis, the Coopers, and Munroes, are all equally entitled
     to public approbation, particularly if we may credit the
     letters from the various persons who authenticate the
     miraculous cures they have performed in the most inveterate,
     we hail almost said, the most impossible, cases. If those
     persons are really in existence (and who can doubt it?) they
     certainly have occasion to be thankful for their escapes,
     and we congratulate them; for in our estimation Quack
     Doctors seem to consider the human frame merely as a subject
     for experiments, which if successful will secure the
     reputation of the practitioner. The acquisition of fame and
     fortune is, in the estimation of these philosophers, cheaply
     purchased by sacrificing the lives of a few of the vulgar,
     to whom they prescribe gratis; and the slavish obedience of
     some patients to the Doctor, is really astonishing. It is
     said that a convalescent at Bath wrote to his Physician in
     London, to know whether he might eat sauce with his pork;
     but we have not been able to discover whether he expected an
     answer gratis; that would perhaps have been an experiment
     not altogether grateful to the Doctor's feelings.

     The practice of advertising and billing the town has become
     so common, that a man scarcely opens a coal-shed, or a
     potatoe-stall, without giving due notice of it in the
     newspapers, and distributing hand-bills: and frequently with
     great success. But our Doctors, who make no show of their
     commodities, have no mode of making themselves known without
     it. Hence the quantity of bills thrust into the hand of the
     passenger through the streets of London, which divulge the
     almost incredible performances of their publishers. A high-
     sounding name, such as The Chevalier de diamant, the
     Chevalier de Ruspini, or The Medical Board, well bored behind
     and before, are perhaps more necessary, with a few paper
     puffs&mdash;as "palpable hits, my Lord," than either skill or
     practice, to obtain notice and secure fame.

     The Chevalier de Chamant, who was originally a box-maker,
     and a man of genius, considering box-making a plebeian
     occupation, was for deducing a logical position, not exactly
     perhaps by fair argument, but at all events through the
     teeth, and was determined, although he could not, like Dr.
     Pangloss, mend the cacology of his friends, at least to give
     them an opportunity for plenty of jaw-work. With this
     laudable object in view, he obtained a patent for making
     artificial teeth of mineral paste; and in his advertisements
     condescended not to prove their utility as substitutes for
     the real teeth, when decayed or wanting, (this was beneath
     his notice, and would have been a piece of mere plebeian
     Quackery unworthy of his great genius,) but absolutely
     assured the world that his mineral teeth were infinitely
     superior to any production of nature, both for mastication
     and beauty! How this was relished we know not; but he
     declared (and he certainly ought to know) that none but
     silly and timid persons would hesitate for one moment to
     have their teeth drawn, and substitute his minerals: and it
     is wonderful to relate, that although his charges were
     enormous, and the operation (as may be supposed) not the
     most pleasant, yet people could not resist the ingenious
     Chevalier's fascinating and drawing puffs; in consequence of
     which he soon became possessed of a large surplus of
     capital, with which he determined to speculate in the Funds.

     For this purpose he employed old Tom Bish, the Stockbroker,
     to purchase stock for the amount; but owing to a sudden
     fluctuation in the market, a considerable depreciation took
     place between the time of purchase and that of payment; a
     circumstance which made the Chevalier grin and show his
     teeth: Determining however, not to become a victim to the
     fangs of Bulls and Bears, but rather to dive like a duck, he
     declared the bargain was not legal, and that he would not be
     bound by it. Bish upon this occasion proved a hard-mouthed
     customer to the man of teeth, and was not a quiet subject to
     be drawn, but brought an action against the mineral monger,
     and recovered the debt. Tom's counsel, in stating the case,
     observed, that the Defendant would find the law could bite
     sharper aud hold tighter than any teeth he could make; and
     so it turned out.

     The Chevalier de R&mdash;sp&mdash;ni is another character who has cut
     no small figure in this line, but has recently made his
     appearance in the Gazette, not exactly on so happy an
     occasion as such a circumstance would be to his brother
     chip, Dr. D&mdash;n&mdash;ll, now (we suppose) Sir Francis&mdash;though
     perhaps equally entitled to the honour of knighthood. The
     Chevalier has for some years looked Royalty in the face by
     residing opposite Carlton House, and taken every precaution
     to let the public know that such an important public
     character was there to be found, by displaying his name as
     conspicuously as possible on brass plates, &amp;c. so that the
     visitors to Carlton House could hardly fail to notice him as
     the second greatest Character of that great neighbourhood.
     But what could induce so great a man to sport his figure in
     the Gazette, is as unaccountable as the means by which he
     obtained such happy celebrity. Had it occurred immediately
     after the war, it might have been concluded without much
     stretch of imagination, that the Chevalier, who prides
     himself on his intimacy with all the great men of the day,
     had, through the friendship of the Duke of Wellington, made
     a contract for the teeth and jaw-bones of all who fell at
     the battle of Waterloo, and that by bringing to market so
     great a stock at one time, the article had fallen in value,
     and left the speculating Chevalier so great a loser as to
     cause his bankruptcy. Whether such is the real cause or not,
     it is difficult to ascertain what could induce the Chevalier
     to descend from his dealings with the head to dabble with
     lower commodities.

     Among other modes of obtaining notoriety, usually resorted
     to by Empirics, the Chevalier used to job a very genteel
     carriage and pair, but his management was so excellent, that
     the expenses of his equipage were very trifling; for as it
     was not intended to run, but merely to stand at the door
     like a barker at a broker's shop, or a direction-post, he
     had the loan on very moderate terms, the job-master taking
     into account that the wind of the cattle was not likely to
     be injured, or the wheels rattled to pieces by velocity, or
     smashed by any violent concussion.

     The Chevalier had a Son, who unfortunately was not endowed
     by nature with so much ambition or information as his
     father; for, frequently when the carriage has been standing
     at the door, he has been seen drinking gin most cordially
     with Coachee, without once thinking of the evils of example,
     or recollecting that he was one of the family. Papa used to
     be very angry on these occasions, because, as he said, it
     was letting people know that Coachee was only hired as &amp;job,
     and not as a family domestic.

     For the great benefit and advantage of the community,
     Medical Boards have recently been announced in various parts
     of the Metropolis, where, according to the assertions of the
     Principals, in their advertisements, every disease incident
     to human nature is treated by men of skilful practice; and
     among these truly useful establishments, those of Drs.
     Cooper, Munro, and Co. of Charlotte house, Blackfriars, and
     Woodstock-house, Oxford-road, are not the least conspicuous.
     Who these worthies are, it   is   perhaps  difficult  to
     ascertain.      One   thing  however  is certain, that Sir
     F&mdash;&mdash;s C&mdash;&mdash;e D&mdash;n&mdash;ll, M.D. is announced as Treasurer,
     therefore there can be no doubt but that all is fair above
     board, for

          "Brutus is an honourable man,
          So are they all&mdash;all honourable men."

     And where so much skill derived from experience is
     exercised, it cannot be doubted but great and important
     benefits may result to a liberal and enlightened people. Of
     the establishment itself we are informed by a friend, that
     having occasion to call on the Treasurer, upon some
     business, the door was opened by a copper-coloured servant,
     a good-looking young Indian&mdash;not a fuscus Hydaspes, but a
     serving man of good appearance, who ushered him up stairs,
     and introduced him to the front room on the first floor,
     where all was quackery, bronze and brass, an electrical
     machine, images, pictures and diplomas framed and glazed,
     and a table covered with books and papers. In a short time,
     a person of very imposing appearance entered the room, with
     his hair profusely powdered, and his person, from his chin
     to his toes, enveloped in a sort of plaid roquelaure, who,
     apologizing for the absence of the Doctor, began to assure
     him of his being in the entire confidence of the Board, and
     in all probability would have proceeded to the operation of
     feeling the pulse in a very short time, had not the visitor
     discovered in the features of this disciple of Esculapius a
     person he had known in former times. 'Why, good God!'
     cried he, 'is that you?&mdash;What have you done with the Magic-
     lantern, and the Lecture on Heads?&mdash;am I right, or am I in
     fairy-land?' calling him by his name.    It was in vain to
     hesitate, it was impossible to escape, the discovery was
     complete. It was plain however that the dealer in magical
     delusions had not altogether given up the art of
     legerdemain, which, perhaps, he finds the most profitable of
     the two.

     Of the worthy Knight himself, (and perhaps the Coopers and
     Munros have been consumed by the electrical fluid of their
     own Board) much might be said. He is the inventor of a life-
     preserver, with which it may be fairly presumed he has
     effected valuable services to his country by the
     preservation of Royalty, as a proof of deserving the honour
     he has obtained. He is patriotic and independent, masonic
     and benevolent, a great admirer of fancy horses and fancy
     ladies, a curer of incurables, and has recently published
     one of the most extraordinary Memoirs that has ever been
     laid before the public, embellished with two portraits:
     which of the two is most interesting must be left to the
     discrimination of those who view them. It must however be
     acknowledged, that after reading the following extract,
     ingratitude is not yet eradicated from our nature, since,
     notwithstanding he has obtained the dignified appellation of
     Sir Francis, the Gazette says, that "in future no improper
     person shall be admitted to the honour of knighthood, in
     consequence of two surreptitious presentations lately"&mdash;the
     one an M.D. the other F.R.C. Surgeons, particularly if it
     were possible that this Gentleman may be one of the persons
     alluded to.    For, what says the Memoir?

     "The utility of Sir Francis's invention being thus fully
     established, and its ingenuity universally admired, it
     excited the interest of the first characters among the
     nobility, and an introduction to Court was repeatedly
     offered to Sir Francis on this account. After a previous
     communication with one of the Royal Family, and also with
     the Secretary of State, on the 14th June last, he had the
     honour of being presented to His Majesty, who, justly
     appreciating the merit of the discovery, was pleased to
     confer upon him the honour of knighthood.

     "Thus it is pleasing, in the distribution of honours by the
     hand of the Sovereign, to mark where they are conferred on
     real merit. This is the true intention of their origin; but
     it has been too often departed from, and they have been
     given where no other title existed than being the friend of
     those who had influence to gain the Royal ear.    From the
     above statement, it will be seen this honour was conferred
     on Sir Francis by his Majesty for an invention, which has
     saved since its discovery the lives of many hundreds, and
     which may be considered as having given the original idea to
     the similar inventions that have been attempted since that
     time. Its utility and importance we have also seen
     acknowledged and rewarded by the two leading Societies in
     this country, and perhaps in Europe, viz. the Royal Humane,
     and the Society of Arts. The Sovereign therefore was only
     recognizing merit which had been previously established; and
     the honour of knighthood, to the credit of the individual,
     was conferred by his Majesty in the most liberal and
     handsome manner, without any other influence being used by
     Sir Francis than simply preferring the claim."

     Thus the subject of Knighthood is to be nursed; and as the
     Doctor and the Nurse are generally to be recognized
     together, no one can read this part of the Memoir without
     exclaiming&mdash;Well done, Nussey. But why not Gazetted, after
     this liberal and hand-some manner of being rewarded? or why
     an allusion to two surreptitious presentations, the names of
     which two persons, so pointedly omitted, cannot well be
     misunderstood? This is but doing things by halves, though no
     such an observation can be applied to the proceedings of
     Charlotte-house, where Cooper, Munro, and Co. (being well
     explained) means two or three persons, viz. a black, a white
     man, and a mahogany-coloured Knight&mdash;a barber by trade, and
     a skinner by company&mdash;a dealer in mercurials&mdash;a puff by
     practice and an advertiser well versed in all the arts of
     his prototype&mdash;a practitioner in panygyric&mdash;the puff direct&mdash;
     the puff preliminary&mdash;the puff collateral&mdash;the puff
     collusive&mdash;and the puff oblique, or puff by implication.
     Whether this will apply to Sir Charles Althis or not, is
     perhaps not so easy to ascertain; but as birds of a feather
     like to flock together, so these medical Knights in
     misfortune deserve to be noticed in the same column,
     although the one is said to be a Shaver, and the other a
     Quaker. It seems they have both been moved by the same
     spirit, and both follow (a good way off) the profession of
     medicine.

     Among the various improvements of these improving times, for
     we are still improving, notwithstanding complaint, a learned
     little Devil, inflated with gas, has suggested a plan for
     the establishment of a Medical Assurance-office, where
     person and property might be insured at so much per annum,
     and the advantages to be derived from such an Institution
     would be, that instead of the insurance increasing with
     years, it would grow less and less. How many thousand
     grateful patients would it relieve annually! but we fear it
     would be a daily source of sorrow to these knightly
     medicals, and would by them be considered a devilish hard
     case.
</pre>
    <p>
      But hush, here is other company, and I will give you an account of him as
      we go along."
    </p>
    <p>
      They now attended the Keeper, who explained the age, height, weight,
      species, size, power, and propensities of the animal, and then departed on
      their road towards Temple Bar,&mdash;on passing through which, they were
      overtaken again by Sir Francis, in a gig drawn by a dun-coloured horse,
      with his puppy between his legs, and a servant by his side, and
      immediately renewed the previous conversation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There he goes again," said Sparkle, "and a rare fellow he is too."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I should think so," said Bob; "he must have quacked to some good purpose,
      to obtain the honour of knighthood."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[108]</span>"Not positively that," continued
      Sparkle; "for to obtain and to deserve are not synonymous, and, if report
      say true, there is not much honour attached to his obtaining it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "&mdash;&mdash;In the modesty of fearful duty,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          I read as much as from the rattling tongue
          Of saucy and audacious eloquence:
          Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity,
          At least speak most to my capacity."
</pre>
    <p>
      And, according to my humble conception, he who talks much about himself,
      or pays others to talk or write about him, is generally most likely to be
      least deserving of public patronage; for if a man possesses real and
      evident abilities in any line of profession, the public will not be long
      in making a discovery of its existence, and the bounty, as is most usually
      the case, would quickly follow upon the heels of approbation. But many a
      meritorious man in the Metropolis is pining away his miserable existence,
      too proud to beg, and too honest to steal, while others, with scarcely
      more brains than a sparrow, by persevering in a determination to leave no
      stone unturned to make themselves appear ridiculous, as a first step to
      popularity; and having once excited attention, even though it is merely to
      be laughed at by the thinking part of mankind, he finds it no great
      difficulty to draw the money out of their pockets while their eyes are
      riveted on a contemplation of his person or conduct. And there are not
      wanting instances of effrontery that have elevated men of little or no
      capacity to dignified situations. If report say true, the present
      Secretary of the Admiralty, who is admirable for his poetry also, was
      originally a hair-dresser, residing somewhere in Blackfriar's or
      Westminster-road; but then you must recollect he was a man who knew it was
      useless to lose a single opportunity; and probably such has been the case
      with Sir Daniel Harlequin, who, from keeping a small shop in Wapping,
      making a blaze upon the water about his Life-preserver, marrying a wife
      with a red face and a full pocket, retired to a small cottage at Mile End,
      and afterwards establishing a Medical Board, has got himself dubbed a
      Knight. To be sure he has had a deal of puffing and blowing work to get
      through in his progress, which probably accounts for his black looks, not
      a little increased by the quantity of powder he wears. But what have we
      here?" finding the bustle of the streets considerably increased after
      passing Temple Bar.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Some political Bookseller or other, in all probability," said Tom&mdash;"I'll
      step forward and see." And in passing through the numerous body of persons
      that crowded on every side, the whole party was separated. Bob, who had
      hung a little back while his two friends rushed forward, was lingering
      near the corner of the Temple: he was beckoned by a man across the way, to
      whom he immediately went.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you happen to want a piece of fine India silk handkerchiefs, Sir? I
      have some in my pocket that I can recommend and sell cheap&mdash;for money
      must be had; but only keep it to yourself, because they are smuggled
      goods, of the best quality and richest pattern." During this opening
      speech, he was endeavouring to draw Tallyho under the archway of
      Bell-yard, when Sparkle espying him, ran across to him, and taking him by
      the arm&mdash;"Come along (said he;) and if you don't take yourself off
      instantly, I'll put you in custody," shaking his stick at the other.
    </p>
    <p>
      All this was like Hebrew to Bob, who, for his part, really conceived the
      poor fellow, as he termed him, might be in want of money, and compelled to
      dispose of his article for subsistence.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha, ha, ha," cried Sparkle, "I see you know nothing about them: these are
      the locusts of the town." At this moment they were joined by the Hon. Tom
      Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad!" continued Sparkle, "I just saved your Cousin from being trepanned,
      and sent for a soldier."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho appeared all amazement.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What," cried Tom, "in the wars of Venus then, I suppose I know he has a
      fancy for astronomy, and probably he was desirous of taking a peep into
      Shire-lane, where he might easily find the Sun, Moon, and Seven Stars."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha! ha! ha!" replied Sparkle, "not exactly so; but I rescued him from the
      hands of a Buffer,{1} who would
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Buffers miscalled Duffers&mdash;Persons who adopt a species of
     swindling which is rather difficult of detection, though it
     is daily practised in London. The term Buffer takes its
     derivation from a custom which at one time prevailed of
     carrying Bandanas, sarsnets, French stockings, and silk of
     various kinds, next the shirts of the sellers; so that upon
     making a sale, they were obliged to undress in order to come
     at the goods, or in other words, to strip to the skin, or
     buff it; by which means they obtained the title of Buffers.
     This trade (if it may be so termed) is carried on in a
     genteel manner. The parties go about from house to house,
     and attend public-houses, inns, and fairs, pretending to
     sell smuggled goods, such as those already mentioned; and by
     offering their goods for sale, they are enabled by practice
     to discover the proper objects for their arts.

     Buffers, or Duffers, who are not rogues in the strict sense
     of the word, only offer to sell their goods to the best
     advantage, and by this means evade the detection of the
     police, but are equally subversive or destructive of common
     honesty under a cloak or disguise; for if they can persuade
     any person that the article offered is actually better or
     cheaper than any other person's, they are doing no more than
     every tradesman does; but then as they pay no rent or taxes
     to the State, the principal objection to them lies in the
     mode of operation, and an overstrained recommendation of
     their goods, which are always, according to their account,
     of the most superior quality; and they have a peculiar
     facility of discovering the novice or the silly, to whom
     walking up with a serious countenance and interesting air,
     they broach the pleasing intelligence, that they have on
     sale an excellent article well worth their attention, giving
     a caution at the same time, that honour and secrecy must be
     implicitly observed, or it may lead to unpleasantness to
     both parties. By these means persons from the country are
     frequently enticed into public-houses to look at their
     goods; and if they do not succeed in one way, they are
     almost sure in another, by having an accomplice, who will
     not fail to praise the articles for sale, and propose some
     gambling scheme, by which the party is plundered of his
     money by passing forged Bank-notes, base silver or copper,
     in the course of their dealings.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[110]</span>doubtless have fleeced him in good
      style, if he could only have induced him to attend to his story."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The mob you see collected there," said the Hon. Tom Dashalll, "is
      attracted by two circumstances&mdash;Money's new Coronation Crop, just
      lanched&mdash;and a broken image of a Highlander, at the door of a
      snuff-shop; each of them truly important and interesting of course, the
      elevation of one man, and the destruction of another. The poor Scotchman
      seems dreadfully bruised, and I suppose is now under the Doctor's hands,
      for he has two or three plasters on his face."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," continued Sparkle, "he has been out on a spree,{1} had a bit of a
      turn-up, and been knock'd down."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon hearing this conversation, Tallyho could not help inquiring into the
      particulars.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why the facts are simply as follows," continued
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Spree&mdash;A bit of fun, or a frolicsome lark.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[111]</span>Sparkle&mdash;"in London, as you
      perceive, tradesmen are in the habit of exhibiting signs of the business
      or profession in which they are engaged. The Pawnbroker decorates his door
      with three gold balls&mdash;the Barber, in some places, (though it is a
      practice almost out of date) hangs out a long pole&mdash;the Gold-beater,
      an arm with a hammer in the act of striking&mdash;the Chemist, a head of
      Glauber, or Esculapius&mdash;the Tobacconist, a roll of tobacco, and of
      late it has become customary for these venders of pulverised atoms called
      snuff, to station a wooden figure of a Highlander, in the act of taking a
      pinch of Hardham's, or High-dried, as a sort of inviting introduction to
      their counters; and a few nights back, a Scotchman, returning from his
      enjoyments at a neighbouring tavern, stopped to have a little friendly
      chat with this gentleman's Highlander, and by some means or other, I
      suppose, a quarrel ensued, upon which the animated young Scotchman took
      advantage of his countryman&mdash;floored him, broke both his arms, and
      otherwise did him considerable bodily injury, the effects of which are
      still visible; and Johnny Bull, who is fond of a little gape-seed, is
      endeavouring to console him under his sufferings."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very kind of him, indeed," replied Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "At any rate," said Tom, "the Tobacconist will have occasion to be
      grateful to the Highlander{1} for some portion of his popularity."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 It is matter of astonishment to some, but not less true,
     that many tradesmen in the Metropolis have to ascribe both
     fame and fortune to adventitious circumstances. It is said
     that Hardham, of Fleet Street, had to thank the celebrated
     Comedian, Foote, who, in one of his popular characters,
     introducing his snuffbox, offered a pinch to the person he
     was in conversation with on the stage, who spoke well of it,
     and inquired where he obtained it?&mdash;"Why, at Hardham's, to
     be sure." And to this apparently trifling circumstance,
     Hardham was indebted for his fortune.

     The importance of a Highlander to a snuff-shop will appear
     by a perusal of the following fact:&mdash;

     A very respectable young man, a Clerk in the office of an
     eminent Solicitor, was recently brought before Mr. Alderman
     Atkins, upon the charge of being disorderly. The prisoner,
     it seemed, on his return home from a social party, where he
     had been sacrificing rather too freely to the jolly god, was
     struck with the appearance of a showy wooden figure of a
     Highlander, at the door of Mr. Micklan's snuff-shop, No. 12,
     Fleet Street. The young Attorney, who is himself a
     Scotchman, must needs claim acquaintance with his
     countryman. He chucked him familiarly under the chin, called
     him a very pretty fellow, and,  in the vehemence of his
     affection, embraced him with so much violence, as to force
     him from his station. Mr. Micklan ran to the assistance of
     his servant, and in the scuffle the unfortunate Highlander
     had both his arms dislocated, the frill that adorned his
     neck damaged, besides other personal injuries, which his
     living countryman not being in the humour to atone for, Mr.
     Micklau gave him in charge to the watchman. Before the
     Magistrate in the morning, the young man appeared heartily
     sick of his folly, and perfectly willing to make every
     reparation, but complained of the excessive demand, which he
     stated to be no less than thirteen guineas. Mr. Micklan
     produced the remains of the unfortunate Highlander, who
     excited a compound fracture of both arms, with a mutilation
     of three or four fingers, and such other bodily wounds, as
     to render his perfect recovery, so as to resume his
     functions at Mr. Micklan's door, altogether hopeless. The
     Highlander, the complainant stated, cost him thirteen
     guineas, and was entirely new. The sum might seem large for
     the young gentleman to pay for such a frolic, but it would
     not compensate him for the injury he should sustain by the
     absence of the figure; for, however strange it might appear,
     he did not hesitate to say, that without it he should not
     have more than half his business. Since he had stationed it
     at his door, he had taken on an average thirty shillings a
     day more than he had done previous to exhibiting his
     attractions.

     There being no proof of a breach of the peace, Mr. Alderman
     Atkins advised the gentleman to settle the matter upon the
     best terms he could. They withdrew together, and on their
     return the complainant reported that the gentleman had
     agreed to take the figure, and furnish him with a new one.

     Mr. Alderman Atkins, in discharging the prisoner,
     recommended to him to get the figure repaired, and make a
     niche for him in his office, where, by using it as a proper
     memorial, it would probably save him more than it cost him.

     The broken figure has since been exhibited in his old
     station, and excited considerable notice; but we apprehend
     he is not yet able to afford all the attractions of his
     occupation, for he has formerly been seen inviting his
     friends to a pinch of snuff gratis, by holding a box
     actually containing that recreating powder in his hand, in
     the most obliging and condescending manner&mdash;a mark of
     politeness and good breeding well worthy of respectful
     attention.
</pre>
    <p>
      "Come," said Sparkle, "we are now in one of the principal thoroughfares of
      the Metropolis, Fleet Street, of which you have already heard much, and is
      at all times thronged with multitudes of active and industrious persons,
      in pursuit of their various avocations, like a hive of bees, and keeping
      up, like them, a ceaseless hum. Nor is it less a scene of Real Life worth
      viewing, than the more refined haunts of the noble, the rich, and the
      great, many of whom leave their splendid habitations in the West in the
      morning, to attend the money-getting, <span class="pagenum">[113]</span>commercial
      men of the City, and transact their business.&mdash;The dashing young
      spendthrift, to borrow at any interest; and the more prudent, to buy or to
      sell. The plodding tradesman, the ingenious mechanic, are exhausting their
      time in endeavours to realize property, perhaps to be left for the benefit
      of a Son, who as ardently sets about, after his Father's decease, to get
      rid of it&mdash;nay, perhaps, pants for an opportunity of doing this
      before he can take possession; for the young Citizen, having lived just
      long enough to conceive himself superior to his father, in violation of
      filial duty and natural authority, affects an aversion to every thing that
      is not novel, expensive, and singular. He is a lad of high spirit; he
      calls the city a poor dull prison, in which he cannot bear to be confined;
      and though he may not intend to mount his nag, stiffens his cravat,
      whistles a sonata, to which his whip applied to the boot forms an
      accompaniment; while his spurs wage war with the flounces of a
      fashionably-dressed belle, or come occasionally in painful contact with
      the full-stretched stockings of a gouty old gentleman; by all which he
      fancies he is keeping" up the dignity and importance of his character. He
      does not slip the white kid glove from his hand without convincing the
      spectator that; his hand is the whiter skin; nor twist his fingers for the
      introduction of a pinch of Maccaba, without displaying to the best
      advantage his beautifully chased ring and elegantly painted snuff-box lid;
      nor can the hour of the day be ascertained without discovering his
      engine-turned repeater, and hearing its fascinating music: then the
      fanciful chain, the precious stones in golden robes, and last of all, the
      family pride described in true heraldic taste and naïveté. Of Peter
      Pindar's opinion, that
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Care to our coffin adds a nail,
          But every grin so merry draws one out,"
</pre>
    <p>
      he thinks it an admirable piece of politeness and true breeding to give
      correct specimens of the turkey or the goose in the serious scenes of a
      dramatic representation, or while witnessing her Ladyship's confusion in a
      crowd of carriages combating for precedence in order to obtain an early
      appearance at Court. Reading he considers quite a bore, but attends the
      reading-room, which he enters, not to know what is worth reading and add a
      little knowledge to his slender stock from the labours and experience of
      <span class="pagenum">[114]</span>men of letters&mdash;no, but to quiz the
      cognoscenti, and throw the incense over its learned atmosphere from his
      strongly perfumed cambric handkerchief, which also implies what is most in
      use for the indulgence of one of the five senses. When he enters a
      coffee-room, it is not for the purpose of meeting an old friend, and to
      enjoy with him a little rational conversation over his viands, but to ask
      for every newspaper, and throw them aside without looking at them&mdash;to
      call the Waiter loudly by his name, and shew his authority&mdash;to
      contradict an unknown speaker who is in debate with others, and declare,
      upon the honour of a gentleman and the veracity of a scholar, that Pope
      never understood Greek, nor translated Homer with tolerable justice. He
      considers it a high privilege to meet a celebrated pugilist at an
      appointed place, to floor him for a quid,{1} a fall, and a high delight to
      talk of it afterwards for the edification of his friends&mdash;to pick up
      a Cyprian at mid-day&mdash;to stare modest women out of countenance&mdash;to
      bluster at a hackney-coachman&mdash;or to upset a waterman in the river,
      in order to gain the fame of a Leander, and prove himself a Hero.
    </p>
    <p>
      "He rejects all his father's proposed arrangements for his domestic
      comforts and matrimonial alliance. He wanders in his own capricious fancy,
      like a fly in summer, over the fields of feminine beauty and loveliness;
      yet he declares there is so much versatility and instability about the
      fair sex, that they are unworthy his professions of regard; and, perhaps,
      in his whole composition, there is nothing deserving of serious notice but
      his good-nature. Thus you have a short sketch of a young Citizen."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Upon my word, friend Sparkle, you are an admirable delineator of
      Society," said Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      "My drawings are made from nature," continued Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye, and very naturally executed too," replied Tom. Having kept walking
      on towards St. Paul's, they were by this time near the end of Shoe Lane,
      at the corner of which sat an elderly woman with a basket of mackerel for
      sale; and as they approached they saw several persons rush from thence
      into the main street in evident alarm.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come up, d&mdash;&mdash;n your eyes," said an ill-favoured fellow with an
      immense cudgel in his fist, driving an ass laden
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Quid&mdash;A. Guinea.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[115]</span>with brick-dust, with which he was
      belabouring him most unmercifully. The poor beast, with an endeavour to
      escape if possible the cudgelling which awaited him, made a sudden turn
      round the post, rubbing his side against it as he went along, and thereby
      relieving himself of his load, which he safely deposited, with a cloud of
      brick-dust that almost blinded the old woman and those who were near her,
      in the basket of fish. Neddy then made the best of his way towards
      Fleet-market, and an over-drove bullock, which had terrified many persons,
      issued almost at the same moment from Shoe Lane, and took the direction
      for Temple-bar. The whistling, the hooting, the hallooing, and the running
      of the drovers in pursuit&mdash;men, women, and children, scampering to
      get out of the way of the infuriated beast&mdash;the noise and rattling of
      carriages, the lamentations of the poor fish-fag, and the vociferations of
      the donkey-driver to recover his neddy&mdash;together with a combination
      of undistinguishable sounds from a variety of voices, crying their
      articles for sale, or announcing their several occupations&mdash;formed a
      contrast of characters, situations, and circumstances, not easily to be
      described. Here, a poor half-starved and almost frightened-to-death brat
      of a Chimney-sweeper, in haste to escape, had run against a lady whose
      garments were as white as snow&mdash;there, a Barber had run against a
      Parson, and falling along with him, had dropped a pot of pomatum from his
      apron-pocket on the reverend gentleman's eye, and left a mark in perfect
      unison with the colour of his garments before the disaster, but which were
      now of a piebald nature, neither black nor white. A barrow of nuts,
      overturned in one place, afforded fine amusement for the scrambling boys
      and girls&mdash;a Jew old clothes-man swore upon his conscience he had
      losht the pest pargain vhat he ever had offered to him in all his
      lifetime, by dem tam'd bears of bull-drivers&mdash;a Sailor called him a
      gallows <i>half-hung ould crimp</i>,{1} d&mdash;&mdash;d his
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Crimp&mdash;Kidnappers, Trappers, or Procurers of men for the
     Merchant Service; and the East-India company contract with
     them for a supply of sailors to navigate their ships out and
     home. These are for the most part Jews, who have made
     advances to the sailors of money, clothes, victuals, and
     lodgings, generally to a very small amount, taking care to
     charge an enormous price for every article. The poor
     fellows, by these means, are placed under a sort of
     espionage, if not close confinement, till the ship is ready
     to receive them; and then they are conducted on board at
     Gravesend by the Crimp and his assistants, and  a receipt
     taken  for them.

     In this process there is nothing very reprehensible&mdash;the men
     want births, and have no money&mdash;the Crimp keeps a lodging-
     house, and wishes to be certain of his man: he therefore
     takes him into the house, and after a very small supply of
     cash, the grand do, is to persuade him to buy watches,
     buckles, hats, and jackets, to be paid for on his receiving
     his advance previous to sailing. By this means and the
     introduction of grog, the most barefaced and unblushing
     robberies have been committed.

     With the same view of fleecing the unwary poor fellows, who

          "... at sea earn their money like horses,
          To squander it idly like asses on shore,"

     they watch their arrival after the voyage, and advance small
     sums of money upon their tickets, or perhaps buy them out
     and out, getting rid at the same time of watches, jewellery,
     and such stuff, at more than treble their real value. Not
     only is this the case in London, but at all the out-ports it
     is practised to a very great extent, particularly in war
     time.

     Happy would it be for poor Jack were this all; he is some-
     times brought in indebted to the Crimp to a large nominal
     amount, by what is called a long-shore attorney, or more
     appropriately, a black shark, and thrown into jail!!! There
     he lies until his body is wanted, and then the incarcerator
     négociâtes with him for his liberty, to be permitted to
     enter on board again.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[116]</span>eyes if he was not glad of it, and, with
      a sling of his arm, deposited an enormous quid he had in his mouth
      directly in the chaps of the Israelite, then joined the throng in pursuit;
      while the Jew, endeavouring to call Stop thief, took more of the
      second-hand quid than agreed with the delicacy of his stomach, and
      commenced a vomit, ejaculating with woful lamentations, that he had lost
      his bag mit all his propertish.
    </p>
    <p>
      The old mackarel-woman, seeing her fish covered with brick-dust, set off
      in pursuit of the limping donkey-driver, and catching him by the neck,
      swore he should pay her for the fish, and brought him back to the scene of
      action; but, in the mean time, the Street-keeper had seized and carried
      off the basket with all its contents&mdash;misfortune upon misfortune!
    </p>
    <p>
      "D&mdash;&mdash;n your ass, and you too," said the Fish-woman, "if you
      doesn't pay me for my fish, I'll <i>quod</i>{1} you&mdash;that there's all
      vat I ar got to say."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here's a bit of b&mdash;&mdash;dy gammon&mdash;don't you see as how I am
      lost both my ass and his cargo, and if you von't leave
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Quod&mdash;A Jail&mdash;to quod a person is to send him to jail.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[117]</span>me alone, and give me my bags again,
      I'll sarve you out&mdash;there now, that's all&mdash;bl&mdash;&mdash;st
      me! fair play's a jewel&mdash;let go my hair, and don't kick up no rows
      about it&mdash;see vhat a mob you're a making here&mdash;can't you sell
      your mackarel ready sauced, and let me go ater Neddy?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Vhat, you thinks you are a <i>flat-catching</i>,{1} do you, Limping Billy&mdash;but
      eh, who has run away with my basket offish?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha, ha, ha," cried Limping Billy, bursting into a horse-laugh at the
      additional distress of the old woman, in which he was joined by many of
      the surrounding spectators; and which so enraged her, that she let go her
      hold, and bursting through the crowd with an irresistible strength,
      increased almost to the fury of madness by her additional loss, she ran
      some paces distance in search of, not only her stock in trade, but her
      shop, shop-board, and working-tools; while the donkey-driver boisterously
      vociferated after her&mdash;"Here they are six a shilling, live mackarel
      O."
    </p>
    <p>
      This taunt of the brick-dust merchant was too much to be borne, and
      brought her back again with a determination to chastise him, which she did
      in a summary way, by knocking him backwards into the kennel. Billy was not
      pleased at this unexpected salute, called her a drunken &mdash;&mdash;,
      and endeavoured to get out of her way&mdash;"for," said he, "I know she is
      a b&mdash;&mdash;dy rum customer when she gets lushy."{2} At this moment,
      a sturdy youth, about sixteen or seventeen years of age, was seen at a
      short distance riding the runaway-ass back again. Billy perceiving this,
      became a little more reconciled to his rough usage&mdash;swore he never
      would strike a voman, so help him G&mdash;&mdash;d, for that he was a man
      every inch of him; and as for Mother Mapps, he'd be d&mdash;&mdash;nd-if
      he vouldn't treat her with all the pleasure of life; and now he had got
      his own ass, he vould go along with her for to find her mackarel. Then
      shaking a cloud of brick-dust from the dry parts of his apparel, with
      sundry portions of mud from those parts which had most easily reached the
      kennel, he took the bridle of his donkey, and bidding her come along, they
      toddled{3} together to a gin-shop in Shoe Lane.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Flat-catching&mdash;Is an expression of very common use, and
     seems almost to explain itself, being the act of taking
     advantage of any person who appears ignorant and
     unsuspicious.

     2 Lushy&mdash;Drunk.

     3  Toddle&mdash;To toddle is to walk slowly, either from
     infirmity or choice&mdash;"Come, let us toddle," is a very
     familiar phrase, signifying let us be going.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[118]</span>Desirous of seeing an end to this bit of
      gig&mdash;"Come along," said Sparkle, "they'll all be in prime twig
      presently, and we shall have some fun.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "I'm the boy for a bit of a bobbery,
          Nabbing a lantern, or milling a pane;
          A jolly good lark is not murder or robbery,
          Let us be ready and nimble."
</pre>
    <p>
      Hark, (said he) there's a fiddle-scraper in the house&mdash;here goes;"
      and immediately they entered.
    </p>
    <p>
      They had no occasion to repent of their movements; for in one corner of
      the tap-room sat Billy Waters, a well-known character about town, a Black
      Man with a wooden leg was fiddling to a Slaughterman from Fleet-market, in
      wooden shoes, who, deck'd with all the paraphernalia of his occupation, a
      greasy jacket and night-cap, an apron besmeared with mud, blood, and
      grease, nearly an inch thick, and a leathern girdle, from which was
      suspended a case to hold his knives, and his sleeves tuck'd up as if he
      had but just left the slaughter-house, was dancing in the centre to the
      infinite amusement of the company, which consisted of an old woman with
      periwinkles and crabs for sale in a basket&mdash;a porter with his knot
      upon the table&mdash;a dustman with his broad-flapped hat, and his bell by
      his side&mdash;an Irish hodman&mdash;and two poor girls, who appeared to
      be greatly taken with the black fiddler, whose head was decorated with an
      oil-skinned cock'd hat, and a profusion of many coloured feathers: on the
      other side of the room sat a young man of shabby-genteel appearance,
      reading the newspaper with close attention, and purring forth volumes of
      smoke. Limping Billy and Mother Mapps were immediately known, and room was
      made for their accommodation, while the fiddler's elbow and the
      slaughterman's wooden shoes were kept in motion.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>Max</i>{l} was the order of the day, and the <i>sluicery</i>{2} in good
      request. Mother Mapps was made easy by being informed the Street-keeper
      had her valuables in charge, which Limping Billy promised he would redeem.
      "Bring us a
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Max&mdash;A very common term for gin.

     2 Sluicery&mdash;A gin-shop or public-house: so denominated from
     the lower orders of society sluicing their throats as it
     were with gin, and probably derived from the old song
     entitled "The Christening of Little Joey,"   formerly sung
     by Jemmy Dodd, of facetious memory.

          "And when they had sluiced their gobs
          With striving to excel wit,
          The lads began to hang their nobs,*
</pre>
    <hr />
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          * Nobs&mdash;Heads.

          ** Frows&mdash;Originally a Dutch word, meaning wives, or girls.

          *** Velvet&mdash;The tongue.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[119]</span>noggin of <i>white tape</i>,{1} and fill
      me a pipe," said he&mdash;"d&mdash;&mdash;n my eyes, I knowed as how it
      vou'd be all right enough, I never gets in no rows whatever without
      getting myself out again&mdash;come, <i>ould chap,{2} vet your vistle, and
      tip it us rum&mdash;go it my kiddy, that are's just vat I likes</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Vat's the reason I an't to have a pipe?" said Mother Mapps.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Lord bless your heart," said the Donkey-driver, "if I did'nt forget you,
      never trust me&mdash;here, Landlord, a pipe for this here Lady."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Which way did the bull run?" said the Irishman.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Bl&mdash;&mdash;st me if I know," replied Limping Billy, "for I was a
      looking out for my own ass&mdash;let's have the Sprig of Shelalah, <i>ould
      Blackymoor</i>&mdash;come, tune up."
    </p>
    <p>
      The old woman being supplied with a pipe, and the fiddler having rosined
      his nerves with a glass of <i>blue ruin</i>{3} to it they went, some
      singing, some whistling, and others drumming with their hands upon the
      table; while Tom, Bob, and Sparkle, taking a seat at the other side of the
      room, ordered a glass of brandy and water each, and enjoyed the merriment
      of the scene before them, perhaps more than those actually engaged in it.
      Bob was alive to every movement and every character, for it was new, and
      truly interesting: and kept growing more so, for in a few minutes Limping
      Billy and Mother Mapps joined the Slaughterman in the dance, when nothing
      could be more grotesque and amusing. Their pipes in their mouths&mdash;clapping
      of hands and snapping of fingers, formed a curious accompaniment to the
      squeaking of the fiddle&mdash;the broad grin of the Dustman, and the
      preposterous laugh of the
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 White Tape&mdash;Also a common term for gin, particularly among
     the Ladies.

     2 Ould Chap, or Ould Boy&mdash;Familiar terms of address among
     flash lads, being a sort of contraction of old acquaintance,
     or old friend.

     3 Blue Ruin&mdash;Gin.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[120]</span>Irishman at the reelers in the centre,
      heightened the picture&mdash;more gin&mdash;more music, and more tobacco,
      soon ad a visible effect upon the party, and reeling became unavoidable.
      The young man reading the paper, found it impossible to understand what he
      was perusing, and having finished his pipe and his pint, made his exit,
      appearing to have no relish for the entertainment, and perhaps heartily
      cursing both the cause and the effect. Still, however, the party was not
      reduced in number, for as one went out another came in.
    </p>
    <p>
      This new customer was a young-looking man, bearing a large board on a high
      pole, announcing the residence of a Bug-destroyer in the Strand. His
      appearance was grotesque in the extreme, and could only be equalled by the
      eccentricities of his manners and conversation. He was dressed in a brown
      coat, close buttoned, over which he had a red camlet or stuff surtout,
      apparently the off-cast of some theatrical performer, but with a
      determination to appear fashionable; for
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Folks might as well be dead&mdash;nay buried too,
          As not to dress and act as others do."
</pre>
    <p>
      He wore mustachios, a pair of green spectacles, and his whole figure was
      surmounted with a fur-cap. Taking a seat directly opposite our party at
      the same table&mdash;"Bring me a pint," said he; and then deliberately
      searching his pockets, he produced a short pipe and some tobacco, with
      which he filled it&mdash;"You see," said he, "I am obliged to smoke
      according to the Doctor's orders, for an asthma&mdash;so I always smokes
      three pipes a day, that's my allowance; but I can eat more than any man in
      the room, and can dance, sing, and act&mdash;nothing conies amiss to me,
      all the players takes their characters from me."
    </p>
    <p>
      After this introduction&mdash;"You are a clever fellow, I'll be bound for
      it," said Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      "O yes, I acts Richard the Third sometimes&mdash;sometimes Macbeth and Tom
      Thumb. I have played before Mr. Kean: then I acted Richard the Third&mdash;'Give
      me a horse! '&mdash;(starting into the middle of the room)&mdash;'no,
      stop, not so&mdash;let me see, let me see, how is it?&mdash;ah, this is
      the way&mdash;Give me a horse&mdash;Oh! Oh! Oh!&mdash;then you know I
      dies."&mdash;And down he fell on the floor, which created a general roar
      of laughter; while Billy Waters <span class="pagenum">[121]</span>struck
      up, "See the conquering Hero conies!" to the inexpressible delight of all
      around him&mdash;their feet and hands all going at the same time.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mother Mapps dropp'd her pipe, and d&mdash;&mdash;d the weed, it made her
      sick, she said.
    </p>
    <p>
      Limping Billy was also evidently in <i>queer-street</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Sparkle, "won't you have a drop more?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Thank ye, Sir," was the reply; and Sparkle, intent upon having his gig
      out, ordered a fresh supply, which soon revived the fallen hero of
      Bosworth-field, and Richard was himself again.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said he, "I'll sing you a song," and immediately commenced as
      follows:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
         "My name's Hookey Walker, I'm known very well,
         In acting and eating I others excel;
         The player-folks all take their patterns from me,
         And a nice pattern too!&mdash;Don't you see? don't you see?
         Oh! [<i>glancing at his fingers</i>] It will do&mdash;it will do.

         At Chippenham born, I was left quite forlorn,
         When my father was dead and my mother was gone;
         So I came up to London, a nice little he,
         And a nice pattern too!&mdash;Don't you see? don't you see?
         Oh! it will do&mdash;it will do.

         A courting I went to a girl in our court,
         She laugh'd at my figure, and made me her sport;
         I was cut to the soul,&mdash;so said I on my knee,
         I'm a victim of love!&mdash;Don't you see? don't you see?
         Oh! it won't do&mdash;it won't do.

         Now all day I march to and fro in the street,
         And a candle sometimes on my journey I eat;
         So I'll set you a pattern, if you'll but agree,
         And a nice pattern too! you shall see&mdash;you shall see.
         Oh! it will do&mdash;it will do."
</pre>
    <p>
      This Song, which he declared was all <i>made out of his own head</i>, was
      sung with grotesque action and ridiculous grimace, intended no doubt in
      imitation of Mr. Wilkinson in his inimitable performance of this strange
      piece of whimsicality. The dancing party was knock'd up and were lobbing
      their <i>lollys</i>,{1} half asleep and half awake, on the table, bowing
      as it were to the magnanimous influence
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Lobbing their lollys&mdash;Laying their heads.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[122]</span>of <i>Old Tom</i>.{1} The Dustman and
      the Irishman laugh'd heartily; and Das hall, Tallyho, and Sparkle, could
      not resist the impulse to risibility when they contemplated the group
      before them. The Bug-destroyer <i>munched</i>{2} a candle and <i>sluiced</i>{3}
      his greasy <i>chops</i>{4} with <i>Jacky</i>{5} almost as fast as they
      could supply him with it, when Sparkle perceiving the boy was still at the
      door with the runaway ass,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said he, "we'll start 'em off home in high style&mdash;here, you
      Mr. Bugman, can you ride?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ride, aye to be sure I can, any of Mr. Astley's horses as well as the
      Champion of England,"{6} was the reply.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1  Old Tom&mdash;It is customary in public-houses and gin-shops
     in London and its vicinity to exhibit a cask inscribed with
     large letters&mdash;OLD TOM, intended to indicate the best gin in
     the house.

     2 Munched&mdash;Eat.

     3 Sluiced&mdash;Washed.    See Sluicery.

     4  Chops&mdash;The mouth.

     5 Jacky&mdash;A vulgar term for gin.

     6 Any person would almost suspect that Hookey had been
     reading the newspapers by this allusion; but that certainly
     could not be the case, for, spurning all education in early
     life, this representative of the immortal bard&mdash;this
     character of characters from Shakespeare, could neither read
     nor write, but made all he acted, as he said, from his own
     head: however, it may fairly be presumed, that in the course
     of his travels during the day he had heard something of the
     Champion intended to appear at the approaching Coronation,
     of whom the following account has recently been circulated
     through the daily press, and, with his usual consistency,
     conceived his own innate abilities equal to those which
     might be acquired by Mr. Dymocke, though his claims were not
     equally honourable or advantageous.

     Mr. Dymocke, the nephew of the gentleman (who is a
     Clergyman) entitled by hereditary right to do the service of
     the Champion to his Majesty, is still in hopes he may be
     permitted to act under his Uncle's nomination, although he
     wants a few months of being of age. A petition is before the
     King on the subject; and Mr. Dymocke, by constant practice
     at Astley's Hiding-school, is endeavouring to qualify
     himself for the due fulfilment of the office. On Thursday
     lie went through his exercise in a heavy suit of armour with
     great celerity. The horse which will be rode by the Champion
     has been selected from Mr. Astley's troop. It is a fine
     animal, pieballed black and white, and is regularly
     exercised in the part he will have to perform.
</pre>
    <p>
      "Walk in&mdash;walk in, Ladies and Gentlemen, just going to begin&mdash;come,
      Mr. Merryman, all ready&mdash;Ladies and Gentlemen, please to observe,
      this here horse is not that there horse."
    </p>
    <p>
      "So we laugh at John Bull a little."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[123]</span>"Come, then," continued Sparkle,
      "another glass&mdash;half-a-crown to ride to the bottom of the lane and up
      Holboru-hill on that donkey at the door, and you shall be our Champion."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A bargain&mdash;a bargain," said the assumed Hookey Walker, rubbing the
      tallow from his <i>gills</i>.{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here goes then," said Sparkle; then slipping half-a-crown into the boy's
      hand, desiring him to run as far as the Traveller-office, in Fleet-street,
      and get him a newspaper, promising to take care of his ass till his
      return. The lad nibbled the bait, and was off in a <i>pig's whisper</i>{2}
      Sparkle called to Tom and Bob, and putting them up to his scheme, Hookey
      was quickly mounted, while Dashall and his Cousin, assisted by the
      Hibernian and Dust-ho, succeeded in getting Mother Mapps out, who was
      placed in the front of the Champion, astride, with her face towards him
      and Limping Billy, who though <i>beat to a stand still</i>,{3} was after
      some difficulty lifted up behind. Hookey was then supplied with his board,
      the pole of which he placed on his foot, in the manner of a spear or
      lance. Then giving the Irishman and the Dustman some silver, to act as
      Supporters or Esquires, one on each side, they proceeded along Shoe-lane,
      preceded by Billy Waters flourishing his wooden-leg and feathers, and
      fiddling as he went&mdash;the Irishman roaring out with Stentorian lungs,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Sure won't you hear
          What roaring cheer
          Was spread at Paddy's wedding O,
          And how so gay
          They spent the day,
          From the churching to the bedding O.
          First book in hand came Father Quipes,
          With the Bride's dadda, the Bailey O,
          While all the way to church the pipes
          Struck up a jilt so gaily O.
</pre>
    <p>
      "<i>Kim ap</i>&mdash;be after sitting fast in the front there, old Mapps,
      or you'll make a mud-lark of yourself." The Dustman rang his bell; and
      thus accompanied with an immense assemblage of boys, girls, men, women,
      and
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Gills&mdash;The mouth.

     2 Pig's Whisper&mdash;A very common term for speed.

     3 Beat to a dead stand still&mdash;Means completely unable to
     assist himself.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[124]</span>children, collected from all the courts
      and alleys in the neighbourhood, joining in a chorus of shouts that rent
      the air, poor Balaam continued to bear his load; while our party, after
      watching them till nearly out of sight, passed down Harp-alley into
      Fleet-market," and turning to the right, very soon regained Fleet-Street,
      laughing heartily at the bull's cookery of mackarel buttered with
      brick-dust, and very well satisfied with their spree.
    </p>
    <p>
      Engaged in conversation upon this adventure, they found nothing of
      interest' or amusement to attract their notice till they arrived at the
      warehouse of the London Genuine Tea Company, except merely remarking the
      grand appearance of St. Paul's, from that situation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Genuine tea" said Bob; "what can that mean&mdash;Is tea any thing but
      tea?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "To be sure it is," said Sparkle, "or has been&mdash;<i>any</i>thing but
      tea,"{l} strongly marking the latter part of the
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Tea and Coffee&mdash;The adulteration of articles of human food
     is a practice of the most nefarious description, and cannot
     be too strongly deprecated, although it has been carried to
     an alarming extent. There is scarcely an article of ordinary
     consumption but has been unlawfully adulterated, and in many
     cases rendered injurious by the infamous and fraudulent
     practice of interested persons. Bread, which is considered
     to be the staff of life, and beer and ale the universal
     beverage of the people of this country, are known to be
     frequently mixed with drugs of the most pernicious quality.
     Gin, that favourite and heart-inspiring cordial of the lower
     orders of society, that it may have the grip, or the
     appearance of being particularly strong, is frequently
     adulterated with the decoction of long pepper, or a small
     quantity of aqua-fortis, a deadly poison. Sugar has been
     known to be mixed with sand; and tobacco, for the public-
     houses, undergoes a process for making it strong and
     intoxicating; but the recent discovery of the nefarious
     practice of adulterating tea and coffee, articles of the
     most universal and extensive consumption, deserves
     particular reprehension.

     Tea has been adulterated by the introduction of dried sloe
     leaves; the practice is not very new, but its extensive
     adoption, and the deleterious properties ascribed to them by
     physicians, have been, at length, successfully exposed by
     the conviction of many of the venders, so, it is hoped, as
     to prevent a repetition of the crime. The sloe leaf, though
     a spurious commodity when sold as tea, might afford a
     harmless vegetable infusion, and be recommended to the poor
     and frugal as a cheap succedaneum for the Chinese vegetable.
     The establishment of the Genuine Tea Company on Ludgate-hill
     originated in the recent discoveries, promising to sell
     nothing but the Unadulterated Tea, and it is sincerely to be
     hoped has done some good.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[125]</span>sentence as he spoke it: "horse-beans
      have been converted to coffee, and sloe-leaves have been transformed into
      tea; hog's lard has been manufactured for butter; an ingenious gentleman
      wishes to persuade us <i>Periwinkles</i>{1} are young Lobsters; and
      another has proposed to extract sugar, and some say brandy, out of
      pea-shells! London is the mart for inventions and discoveries of all
      kinds, and every one of its inhabitants appears to have studied something
      of the art of Legerdemain, to catch the eye and deceive the senses."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Wonderful!" exclaimed Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not more wonderful than true," continued Sparkle; "invention is always on
      the stretch in London. Here we have cast-iron Bridges{2}&mdash;a cast-iron
      Sugar-house&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Sparkle appears to have been rather sceptical on the
     subject of Periwinkles being young Lobsters, though the
     opinion is not very new. A gentleman, whose indefatigable
     research appears to be deserving of encouragement and
     support, has recently issued the following advertisement,
     inviting the curious and the learned to inspect the result
     of his discoveries, which seems, at least, to warrant
     something more than conjecture.

     "J. Cleghorne having in his possession some specimens which
     prove, in his opinion, a circumstance before suggested, but
     treated by the scientific as a vulgar error, any known
     naturalist willing to view them, by noticing by letter,
     within a week, may have J. C. attend with his specimens. The
     subject is a curious change in the formation of Lobsters
     from various species of the Winkle, the Winkle being
     considered the larva;.

     The only advantage J. C. desires from the communication is,
     the credit of advancing his proofs, and the stimulating
     further enquiry.&mdash;A line addressed to J. Cleghorne,
     Architectural Engraver, No. 19, Chapman-street, Black-road,
     Islington, will have immediate attention."

     It is sincerely to be hoped that proper notice will be taken
     of this advertisement, for in times of general scarcity like
     the present, such a discovery might be turned to great
     national advantage, by the establishment of proper depots
     for the cultivation of lobsters, as we have preserves for
     game, &amp;c.

     2 Cast-iron has become an object of general utility. The
     Southwark or New London Bridge consists of three arches, the
     centre of which is a span of 240 feet, and the other two 210
     feet each; the Vauxhall Bridge consists of nine arches, over
     a width of 809 feet; and it is a fact, that a Sugar-house is
     building with cast-iron floors, window-frames, and rafters,
     to prevent fire. Cast-iron holds fire and resists fire; but
     it is probable that all its properties and powers are not
     yet discovered, and that we may some day or other witness
     the ascension of a cast-iron balloon inflated with steam!
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[126]</span>coaches running, and barges, packets,
      and sailing-boats navigated, by Steam{1}&mdash;St. Paul's, as you
      perceive, without its ball&mdash;smoke burning itself, and money burning
      men's consciences."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well done, Sparkle!" cried Tom; "your ideas seem to flow like gas, touch
      but the valve and off you go; and you are equally diffusive, for you throw
      a light upon all subjects."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob was now suddenly attracted by a full view of himself and his friends
      at the further end of Everington's{2}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Steam&mdash;Here is a subject that evaporates as we approach;
     it soars beyond finite comprehension, and appears to be
     inexhaustible&mdash;every thing is done by it&mdash;machinery of every
     kind is set in motion by it&mdash;a newspaper of the most
     extensive circulation in the kingdom is printed by it, and
     the paper supplied sheet by sheet to receive the impression.
     Tobacco is manufactured, and sausage-meat cut, by steam&mdash;
     nay, a celebrated Vender of the latter article had asserted,
     that his machinery was in such a state of progressive
     improvement, that he had little doubt before long of making
     it supply the demands of his customers, and thereby save the
     expense of a Shopman; but, it is much to be regretted, his
     apparatus made sausage-meat of him before the accomplishment
     of his project.

     Considering the increasing, and by some Philosophers almost
     overwhelming population of the country at the present
     moment, it is certainly an alarming circumstance, that when
     employment is so much required, mechanical science should so
     completely supersede it to the injury of thousands,
     independent of the many who have lost their lives by the
     blowing up of steam-engines. It is a malady however which
     must be left to our political economists, who will
     doubtless at the same time determine which would prove the
     most effectual remedy&mdash;the recommendation of Mr. Malthus to
     condemn the lower orders to celibacy&mdash;the Jack Tars to a
     good war&mdash;or the Ministers to emigration.

     2  If an estimate of the wealth or poverty of the nation
     were to lie formed from the appearance of the houses in the
     Metropolis, no one could be induced to believe that the
     latter had any existence among us. The splendour and taste
     of our streets is indescribable, and the vast improvements
     in the West are equally indicative of the former.

     The enormous increase of rents for Shops, particularly in
     the leading thoroughfares of London, may in a great measure
     be attributed to the Linen-drapers. The usual method
     practised by some of these gentry, is to take a shop in the
     first-rate situation, pull down the old front, and erect a
     new one, regardless of expense, a good outside being
     considered the first and indispensable requisite. This is
     often effected, either upon credit with a builder, or, if
     they have a capital of a few hundreds, it is all exhausted
     in external decorations. Goods are obtained upon credit, and
     customers procured by puffing advertisements, and exciting
     astonishment at the splendid appearance of the front. Thus
     the concern is generally carried on till the credit obtained
     has expired, and the wonder and novelty of the concern has
     evaporated; when the stock is <i>sold off at 30 per cent,
     under prime cost for the benefit of the creditors</i>! This is
     so common an occurrence, that it is scarcely possible to
     walk through London any day in the year, without being
     attracted by numerous Linen-drapers' shops, whose windows
     are decorated with bills, indicating that they are actually
     selling off under prime cost, as the premises must be
     cleared in a few days.

     The most elegant Shop of this description in the Metropolis
     is supposed to be one not a hundred miles from Ludgate-hill,
     the front and fitting up of which alone is said to have cost
     several thousand pounds. The interior is nearly all of
     looking-glass, with gilt mouldings; even the ceiling is
     looking-glass, from which is appended splendid cut-glass
     chandeliers, which when lighted give to the whole the
     brilliance of enchantment; however it is not very easy to
     form an idea of what is sold, for, with the exception of a
     shawl or two carelessly thrown into the window, there is
     nothing to be seen, (the stock being all concealed in
     drawers, cupboards, &amp;c. ) except the decorations and the
     Dandy Shopmen, who parade up and down in a state of ecstasy
     at the reflection of their own pretty persons from every
     part of the premises!

     This concealment of the stock has occasioned some laughable
     occurrences. It is said that a gentleman from the country
     accidentally passing, took it for a looking-glass
     manufactory, and went in to inquire the price of a glass.
     The Shopmen gathered round him with evident surprise,
     assured him of his mistake, and directed him to go to
     Blades,{1} lower down the Hill. The Countryman was not
     disconcerted, but, after surveying them somewhat minutely,
     informed them it was glass he wanted, not cutlery; but as
     for blades, he thought there were enow there for one street,
     at least.

     Another is said to have been so pleased with a row of
     grotesque Indian-China jars, which embellish one side of the
     entrance, and which he mistook for <i>pots de chambre</i>, that
     after returning home and consulting his rib, he sent an
     order per post for one of the most elegant pattern to be
     forwarded to him!

     There is a similar Shop to this, though on a smaller scale,
     to be seen in a great leading thoroughfare at the West end
     of the Town; the owner of which, from his swarthy complexion
     and extravagant mode of dress, has been denominated The
     Black Prince, a name by which he is well known in his own
     neighbourhood, and among the gentlemen of the cloth. This
     dandy gentleman, who affects the dress and air of a military
     officer, has the egregious vanity to boast that the numerous
     families of rank and fashion who frequent his shop, are
     principally attracted to view his elegant person, and seems
     to consider that upon this principally depends the success
     of his trade.

          1 A large Glass-manufacturer.
</pre>
    <p>
      128&mdash;shop, and without observing the other persons about him, saw
      himself surrounded with spectators, unconscious of being in their company.
      He look'd up&mdash;he look'd down&mdash;he gazed around him, and all was
      inconceivable light. Tom's allusion to the gas flashed upon him in a
      moment&mdash;"What&mdash;what is this?" said he&mdash;"where, in the name
      of wonder, am I?" A flash of lightning could not have operated more
      suddenly upon him. "Why," said Sparkle, "don't you see?
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are not here, for you are there,"
    </p>
    <p>
      pointing to his reflection, in the looking-glass.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad," said Bob, under evident surprise, and perhaps not without some
      apprehension they were playing tricks with him&mdash;"I wish you would
      explain&mdash;is this a Drawing-room, or is it the <i>Phantasmagoria</i>
      we have heard so much of in the country?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No, no, it is not the Phantasmagoria, but it forms a part of metropolitan
      magic, which you shall be better acquainted with before we part. That is
      no other than a Linen-draper's shop, '<i>papered</i>,' as an Irishman one
      day remarked, 'vvid nothing at all at all but looking-glass, my dear '&mdash;one
      of the most superb things of the kind that perhaps ever was seen&mdash;But
      come, I perceive it is getting late, let us proceed directly to Dolly's,
      take our chop, then a <i>rattler</i>,{1} and hey for the Spell."{2}
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob appeared almost to be spell-bound at the moment, and, as they moved
      onward, could not help casting
    </p>
    <p>
      "One longing, lingering look behind."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Rattler&mdash;A coach.

     2 Spell&mdash;The Play-house; so denominated from its variety of
     attractions, both before and behind the curtain.
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER X
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "What various swains our motley walls contain!
          Fashion from Moorfields, honour from Chick-lane;
          Bankers from Paper-buildings here resort,
          Bankrupts from Golden-square and Riches-court;
          From the Haymarket canting rogues in grain,
          Gulls from the Poultry, sots from Water-lane;
          The lottery cormorant, the auction shark,
          The full-price master, and the half-price clerk;
          Boys, who long linger at the gallery-door,
          With pence twice live, they want but twopence more,
          Till some Samaritan the twopence spares,
          And sends them jumping up the gallery-stairs.
          Critics we boast, who ne'er their malice baulk,
          But talk their minds&mdash;we wish they'd mind their talk;
          Big-worded bullies, who by quarrels live,
          Who give the lie, and tell the lie they give;
          Jews from St. Mary-Axe, for jobs so wary,
          That for old clothes they'd even axe St. Mary;
          And Bucks with pockets empty as their pate,
          Lax in their gaiters, laxer in their gait.
          Say, why these Babel strains from Babel tongues?
          Who's that calls "Silence" with such leathern lungs?
          He, who, in quest of quiet, "Silence" hoots,
          Is apt to make the hubbub he imputes."
</pre>
    <p>
      IN a few minutes they entered Dolly's, from whence, after partaking of a
      cheerful repast and an exhilarating glass of wine, a coach conveyed them
      to Drury-lane. ',
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "I shall introduce you to a new scene in
      Real Life, well worth your close observation. We have already taken a
      promiscuous ramble from the West towards the East, and it has afforded
      some amusement; but our stock is abundant, and many objects of curiosity
      are still in view."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, yes," continued Sparkle, "every day produces novelty; for although
      London itself is always the same, the inhabitants assume various forms, as
      inclination or necessity may induce or compel. The Charioteer of <span
      class="pagenum">[130]</span>to-day, dashing along with four in hand, may
      be an inhabitant of the King's-bench to-morrow, and&mdash;but here we are,
      and Marino Faliero is the order of the night. The character of its author
      is so well known, as to require no observation; but you will be introduced
      to a great variety of other characters, both in High and Low Life, of an
      interesting nature."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had alighted, and were entering the House. The rapid
      succession of carriages arriving with the company, the splendour of the
      equipages, the general elegance of the dresses, and the blazing of the
      lamps, alternately became objects of attraction to Bob, whose eyes were
      kept in constant motion&mdash;while "A Bill of the Play for Covent Garden
      or Drury Lane," still resounded in their ears.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page130.jpg" alt="Page130 Drury Lane Theatre "
      width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      On arriving at the Box-lobby, Tom, who was well known, was immediately
      shewn into the centre box with great politeness by the Box-keeper,{1} the
      second scene of the Tragedy being just over. The appearance of the House
      was a delicious treat to Bob, whose visual orbs wandered more among the
      delighted and delightful faces which surrounded him, than to the plot or
      the progress of the performances before him. It was a scene of splendour
      of which lie had not the least conception; and Sparkle perceiving the
      principal objects of attraction, could not resist the impulse to deliver,
      in a sort of half-whisper, the following lines:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "When Woman's soft smile all our senses bewilders,
          And gilds while it carves her dear form on the heart,
          What need has new Drury of carvers and gilders?
          With nature so bounteous, why call upon art?

     1 The Box-keeper to a public Theatre has many duties to
     perform to the public, his employer, and himself; but,
     perhaps, in order to be strictly correct, we ought to have
     reversed the order in which we have noticed them, since of
     the three, the latter appears to be the most important, (at
     least) in his consideration; for he takes care before the
     commencement of the performance to place one of his
     automaton figures on the second row of every box, which
     commands a good view of the House, who are merely intended
     to sit with their hats off, and to signify that the two
     first seats are taken, till the conclusion of the second
     act; and so in point of fact they are taken by himself, for
     the accommodation of such friends as he is quite aware are
     willing to accommodate him with <i>a quid pro quo</i>.

          How well would our Actors attend to their duties,
          Our House save in oil, and our Authors in wit,

          In lieu of yon lamps, if a row of young Beauties
          Glanc'd light from their eyes between us and the Pit.

          The apples that grew on the fruit-tree of knowledge
          By Woman were pluck'd, and she still wears the prize,

          To tempt us in Theatre, Senate, or College&mdash;
          I mean the Love-apples that bloom in the eyes.

          There too is the lash which, all statutes controlling,
          Still governs the slaves that are made by the Fair,

          For Man is the pupil who, while her eye's rolling,
          Is lifted to rapture, or sunk in despair."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[131]</span>Tallyho eagerly listened to his friend's
      recitation of lines so consonant with his own enraptured feelings; while
      his Cousin Dashall was holding a conversation in dumb-show with some
      person at a distance, who was presently recognized by Sparkle to be Mrs. G&mdash;&mdash;den,{1}
      a well-known frequenter of the House.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said he, "I see how it is with Tom&mdash;you may rely upon it he
      will not stop long where he is, there is other game in view&mdash;he has
      but little taste for Tragedy fiction, the Realities of Life are the
      objects of his regard.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Tis a fine Tragedy," continued he, addressing himself to Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes&mdash;yes," replied the other, "I dare say it is, but, upon my soul,
      I know nothing about it&mdash;that is&mdash;I have seen it before, and I
      mean to read it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Bless my heart!" said a fat lady in a back seat, "what a noise them 'are
      gentlemen does make&mdash;they talk so loud there 'ant no such thing as
      seeing what is said&mdash;I wonder they don't make these here boxes more
      bigger, for I declare I'm so scrouged I'm all in a&mdash;Fanny, did you
      bring the rumperella for fear it should rain as we goes home?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hush, Mother," said a plump-faced little girl, who sat along side of her&mdash;"don't
      talk so loud, or otherwise every body will hear you instead of the
      Performers, and that would be quite preposterous."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Don't call me <i>posterous</i> Miss; because you have been to school, and
      learnt some <i>edification</i>, you thinks you are to do as you please
      with me."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Mrs. G&mdash;&mdash;den, a dashing Cyprian of the first order, well
     known in the House, a fine, well-made woman, always ready
     for a lark, and generally well togged.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[132]</span>This interesting conversation was
      interrupted by loud vociferations of Bravo, Bravo, from all parts of the
      House, as the drop-scene fell upon the conclusion of the second act. The
      clapping of hands, the whistling and noise that ensued for a few minutes,
      appeared to astonish Tallyho. "I don't much like my seat," said Dashall.
      "No," said Sparkle, "I did not much expect you would remain long&mdash;you
      are a mighty ambitious sort of fellow, and I perceive you have a desire to
      be exalted."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess the situation, is too confined," replied Tom&mdash;"come, it is
      excessively warm here, let us take a turn and catch a little air."
    </p>
    <p>
      The House was crowded in every part; for the announcement of a new Tragedy
      from the pen of Lord Byron, particularly under the circumstances of its
      introduction to the Stage, against the expressed inclination of its
      Author, the
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 At an early hour on the evening this Tragedy was first
     pro-duced at Drury Lane, Hand-bills were plentifully
     distributed through the Theatre, of which the following is a
     copy:

     "The public are respectfully informed, that the
     representation of Lord Byron's Tragedy, The Doge of Venice,
     this evening, takes place in defiance of the injunction from
     the Lord Chancellor, which was not applied for until the
     remonstrance of the Publisher, at the earnest desire of the
     noble Author, had failed in protecting that Drama from its
     intrusion on the Stage, for which it was never intended."

     This announcement had the effect of exciting public
     expectation beyond its usual pitch upon such occasions. The
     circumstances were somewhat new in the history of the Drama:
     the question being, whether a published Flay could be
     legally brought on the Stage without the consent, or rather
     we should say, in defiance of the Author. "We are not aware
     whether this question has been absolutely decided, but this
     we do know, that the Piece was performed several nights, and
     underwent all the puffing of the adventurous Manager, as
     well as all the severity of the Critics. The newspapers of
     the day were filled with histories and observations upon it.
     No subject engrossed the conversation of the polite and
     play-going part of the community but Lord Byron, The Doge of
     Venice, and Mr. Elliston. They were all bepraised and
     beplastered&mdash;exalted and debased&mdash;acquitted and condemned;
     but it was generally allowed on all hands, that the printed
     Tragedy contained many striking beauties, notwithstanding
     its alleged resemblance to Venice Preserved. We are,
     however, speaking of the acted Tragedy, and the magnanimous
     Manager, who with such promptitude produced it in an altered
     shape; and having already alluded to the theatrical puffing
     so constantly resorted to upon all occasions, we shall drop
     the curtain upon the subject, after merely remarking, that
     the Times of the same day has been known to contain the
     Manager's puff, declaring the piece to have been
     received with  rapturous applause,   in  direct  opposition
     to the  Editor's critique, which as unequivocally pronounced
     its complete failure!
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[133]</span>will of its publisher, and the
      injunction{1} of the Lord Chancellor, were attractions of no ordinary
      nature; and
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Injunction&mdash;The word injunction implies a great deal, and
     has in its sound so much of the terrific, as in many
     instances to paralyze exertion on the part of the supposed
     offending person or persons. It has been made the instrument
     of artful, designing, and malicious persons, aided by
     pettifogging or pretended attorneys, to obtain money for
     themselves and clients by way of compromise; and in numerous
     instances it is well known that fear has been construed into
     actual guilt. Injunctions are become so common, that even
     penny printsellers have lately issued threats, and promised
     actual proceedings, against the venders of articles said to
     be copies from their original drawings, and even carried it
     so far as to withhold (kind souls!) the execution of their
     promises, upon the payment of a 5L. from those who were
     easily to be duped, having no inclination to encounter the
     glorious uncertainty of the law, or no time to spare for
     litigation. We have recently been furnished with a curious
     case which occurred in Utopia, where it appears by our
     informant, that the laws hold great similarity with our own.
     A certain house of considerable respectability had imported
     a large quantity of Welsh cheese, which were packed in
     wooden boxes, and offered them for sale (a great rarity in
     Eutopia) as double Gloucester.

     It is said that two of a trade seldom agree; how far the
     adage may apply to Eutopia, will be seen in the sequel. A
     tradesman, residing in the next street, a short time after,
     received an importation from Gloucester, of the favourite
     double production of that place, packed in a similar way,
     and (as was very natural for a tradesman to do, at least we
     know it is so here,) the latter immediately began to vend
     his cheese as the real Double Gloucester. This was an
     offence beyond bearing. The High Court of Equity was moved,
     similar we suppose to our High Court of Chancery, to
     suppress the sale of the latter; but as no proof of
     deception could be produced, it was not granted. This only
     increased the flame already excited in the breasts of the
     first importers; every effort was made use of to find a good
     and sufficient excuse to petition the Court again, and at
     length they found out one of the craft to swear, that as the
     real Gloucester had been imported in boxes of a similar
     shape, make, and wood, it was quite evident that the
     possessor must have bought similar cheeses, and was imposing
     on the public to their great disadvantage, notwithstanding
     they could not find a similarity either of taste, smell, or
     appearance. In the mean time the real Gloucester cheese
     became a general favourite with the inhabit-ants of Utopia,
     and upon this, though slender ground, the innocent tradesman
     was served with a process, enjoining him not to do that,
     which, poor man, he never intended to do; and besides if he
     had, the people of that country were not such ignoramuses as
     to be so deceived; it was merely to restrain him from
     selling his own real double Gloucester as their Welsh
     cheeses, purporting, as they did, to be double Gloucester,
     or of mixing them together (than which nothing could be
     further from his thoughts,) and charging him at the same
     time with having sold his cheeses under their name. But the
     most curious part of the business was, the real cheeseman
     brought the investigation before the Court, cheeses in boxes
     were produced, and evidence was brought forward, when, as
     the charges alleged could not be substantiated, the
     restraint was removed, and the three importers of Welsh
     cheese hung their heads, and retired in dudgeon.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[134]</span>the Hon. Tom availed himself of the
      circumstance to leave the Box, though the truth was, there were other
      attractions of a more enlivening cast in his view.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said he, "we shall have a better opportunity of seeing the House,
      and its decorations, by getting nearer to the curtain; besides, Ave shall
      have a bird's-eye view of the company in all quarters, from the seat of
      the Gods to the Pit."
    </p>
    <p>
      The influx of company, (it being the time of half-price), and the rush and
      confusion which took place in all parts at this moment, were
      indescribable. Jumping over boxes and obtaining seats by any means,
      regardless of politeness or even of decorum&mdash;Bucks and Bloods warm
      from the pleasures of the bottle&mdash;dashing Belles and flaming Beaux,
      squabbling and almost fighting&mdash;rendered the amusements before the
      curtain of a momentary interest, which appeared to obliterate the
      recollection of what they had previously witnessed. In the mean time, the
      Gods in the Gallery issued forth an abundant variety of discordant sounds,
      from their elevated situation. Growling of bears, grunting of hogs,
      braying of donkeys, gobbling of turkeys, hissing of geese, the catcall,
      and the loud shrill whistle, were heard in one mingling concatenation of
      excellent imitation and undistinguished variety: During which, Tom led the
      way to the upper Boxes, where upon arriving, he was evidently disappointed
      at not meeting the party who had been seen occupying a seat on the left
      side of the House, besides having sacrificed a front seat, to be now
      compelled to take one at the very back part of a side Box, an exchange by
      no means advantageous for a view of the performance. However, this was
      compensated in some degree by a more extensive prospect round the House;
      and his eyes were seen moving in all directions, without seeming to know
      where to fix, while Sparkle and Bob were attracted by a fight in the
      Gallery, between a Soldier and a Gentleman's Servant in livery, for some
      supposed <span class="pagenum">[135]</span>insult offered to the companion
      of the latter, and which promised serious results from the repeated
      vociferations of those around them, of "Throw 'em over&mdash;throw 'em
      over;" while the gifts of the Gods were plentifully showered down upon the
      inhabitants of the lower regions in the shape of orange-peelings, apples,
      &amp;c. The drawing up of the curtain however seemed to have some little
      effect upon the audience, and in a moment the Babel of tongues was changed
      into a pretty general cry of "Down&mdash;down in the front&mdash;hats off&mdash;silence,
      &amp;c. which at length subsided in every quarter but the Gallery, where
      still some mutterings and murmurings were at intervals to be heard.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;one fiddle will
          Produce a tiny flourish still."
</pre>
    <p>
      Sparkle could neither see nor hear the performance&mdash;Tom was wholly
      engaged in observing the company, and Bob alternately straining his neck
      to get a view of the Stage, and then towards the noisy inhabitants of the
      upper regions. "We dined at the Hummums," said a finicking little
      Gentleman just below him&mdash;"Bill, and I, and Harry&mdash;drank claret
      like fishes&mdash;Harry was half-sprung&mdash;fell out with a Parson about
      chopping logic; you know Harry's father was a butcher, and used to
      chopping, so it was all prime&mdash;the Parson would'n't be convinced,
      though Harry knock'd down his argument with his knuckles on the table,
      almost hard enough to split it&mdash;it was a bang-up lark&mdash;Harry got
      in a passion, doff'd his toggery, and was going to show fight&mdash;so
      then the Parson sneak'd off&mdash;Such a bit of gig.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Silence there, behind."
    </p>
    <p>
      "So then," continued the Dandy, "we went to the Billiard-rooms, in Fleet
      Street, played three games, diddled the Flats, bilk'd the Marker, and
      bolted&mdash;I say, when did you see Dolly?"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 To the frequenters of Drury-lane Theatre, who occasionally
     lounge away a little of their time between the acts in
     sipping soda-water, negus, &amp;c. the party here alluded to
     cannot but be well known&mdash;we mean particularly the laffing-
     boys and the lads of the village. We are aware that
     fictitious names are assumed or given to the Ladies of
     Saloon notoriety, originating in particular circum-stances,
     and we have reason to believe that Dolly K&mdash;&mdash;lly has been
     so denominated from the propensity she almost invariably
     manifests of painting, as remarked particularly by one of
     the parties in conversation.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[136]</span>"Last night," replied the other&mdash;"she'll
      be here presently&mdash;d&mdash;&mdash;nd fine girl, arn't she?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very well," said the first; "a nice plump face, but then she paints so d&mdash;n&mdash;bly,
      I hate your painted Dollys, give me natural flesh and blood&mdash;Polly H&mdash;ward
      for me."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Gallows Tom{1} will speak to you in plain terms if you trespass there, my
      boy; you know he has out-general'd the Captain in that quarter, and came
      off victorious, so&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Sparkle, "let us adjourn into the Saloon, for, Heaven knows,
      it is useless staying here." And taking their arms, they immediately left
      the Box.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The theatre," continued he, "is a sort of enchanted island, where nothing
      appears as it really is, nor what it should be. In London, it is a sort of
      time-killer, or exchange of looks and smiles. It is frequented by persons
      of all degrees and qualities whatsoever. Here Lords come to laugh and be
      laughed at&mdash;Knights to learn the amorous smirk and a-la-mode grin,
      the newest fashion in the cut of his garments, the twist of his body, and
      the adjustment of his phiz.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This House{2} was built upon a grand and extensive scale, designed and
      executed under the inspection of Mr. Benj. Wyatt, the architect, whose
      skill was powerfully and liberally aided by an intelligent and public
      spirited Committee, of which the late Mr. Whitbread was the Chairman. It
      is altogether a master-piece of art, and an ornament to the Metropolis.
      You perceive the interior is truly delightful, and the exterior presents
      the idea of solidity and security: it affords sitting room for 2810
      persons, that is, 1200 in the Boxes, 850 in the Pit, 480
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 It appears that the adoption of fictitious names is not
     wholly confined to the female visitors of these regions of
     fashion and folly. Gallows Tom is a character well known,
     and is a sort of general friend, at all times full of fun,
     fire, and spirit. We have not been able to discover whether
     he holds any official situation under government, though it
     is generally believed he is safely anchored under the croum,
     a stanch friend to the British constitution&mdash;probably more
     so than to his own. And we should judge from what is to be
     inferred from the conversation overheard, that he is the
     acknowledged friend of Miss H&mdash;&mdash;d.   Capt. T&mdash;&mdash;pe is
     supposed to hold a Commission in the Navy, a gay and gallant
     frequenter of the Saloon, and, till a short time back, the
     chere ami of Miss H&mdash;&mdash;d.

     2 The building of this Theatre was completed for 112,000L.
     Including lamps, furniture, &amp;c. 125,000L.; and including
     scent ry, wardrobe, properties, &amp;c. 150,000L.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[137]</span>in the Lower Gallery, and 280 in the
      Upper Gallery. The talents of the celebrated Mr. Kean (who has recently
      left us for the shores of the Atlantic) first blazed forth to astonish the
      world beneath this roof. Old Drury immortalized the name of Garrick, and
      has also established the fame of Mr. Kean; and the House at the present
      moment has to boast of a combination of histrionic{1} talent, rich and
      excellent."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come along, come along," said Tom, interrupting him, "leave these
      explanations for another opportunity&mdash;here is the Saloon. Now for a
      peep at old particulars. There is no seeing nor hearing the Play&mdash;I
      have no inclination for histories, I am just alive for a bit of gig."
    </p>
    <p>
      On entering the Saloon, Bob was additionally gratified at viewing the
      splendour of its decorations. The arched ceiling, the two massy Corinthian
      columns of <i>vera antique</i>, and the ten corresponding pilasters on
      each side, struck him as particularly beautiful, and he was for some
      moments lost in contemplation, while his friends Sparkle and Tom were in
      immediate request to receive the congratulations of their acquaintance.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Where the d&mdash;&mdash;l have you been to?" was the first question
      addressed to Dashall&mdash;"rusticating, I suppose, to the serious loss of
      all polished society."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are right in the first part of your reply," said Tom; "but, as I
      conceive, not exactly so in the inference you draw from it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Modesty, by Jove! well done Dashall, this travelling appears to improve
      your manners wonderfully; and I dare say if you had staid away another
      month, your old friends would not have known you."
    </p>
    <p>
      This created a laugh among the party, which roused Bob from his reverie,
      who, turning round rather hastily, trod with considerable force upon the
      gouty toe of an old debauchee in spectacles, who, in the height of
      ecstasy, was at that moment entering into a treaty of amity with a pretty
      rosy-faced little girl, and chucking her under the
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The names of Elliston, Pope, Johnston, Powell, Dowton,
     Munden, Holland, Wallack, Knight, T. Cooke, Oxberry, Smith,
     Bromley, &amp;c. are to be found on the male list of Performers,
     and it is sincerely to be hoped that of Mr. Kean will not
     long be absent. The females are, Mrs. Davison, Mrs. Glover,
     Miss Kelly, Mrs. Bland, Mrs. Orger, Mrs. Sparks, Miss
     Wilson, Miss Byrne, Miss Cubitt, &amp;c.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[138]</span>chin, as a sort of preliminary, to be
      succeeded by a ratification; for in all probability gratification was out
      of the question. However this might be, the pain occasioned by the sudden
      movement of Tallyho, who had not yet learned to trip it lightly along the
      <i>mutton walk</i>,{1} induced the sufferer to roar out most lustily, a
      circumstance which immediately attracted the attention of every one in the
      room, and in a moment they were surrounded by a group of lads and lasses.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page138.jpg" alt="Page138 Tom and Bob at Drury Lane "
      width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      "Upon my soul, Sir," stammer'd out Bob, "I beg your pardon, I&mdash;I&mdash;did
      not mean&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh! oh! oh!" continued the gouty Amoroso. Mother K&mdash;&mdash;p{2} came
      running like lightning with a glass of water; the frail sisterhood were
      laughing, nodding, whispering, and winking at each other; while St&mdash;&mdash;ns,{3}
      who pick'd up the spectacles the unfortunate victim of the gout had
      dropp'd, swore that fellow in the green coat and white hat ought to be
      sent to some dancing-school, to learn to step without kicking people's
      shins.
    </p>
    <p>
      Another declared he was a Johnny-raw,{4} just catched, and what could be
      expected.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom, who, however, kept himself alive to the passing occurrences, stepping
      up to Bob, was immediately recognized by all around him, and passing a
      significant wink, declared it was an accident, and begged to assist the
      Old Buck to a seat, which being accomplished, he declared he had not had
      his shoe on for a week, but as he found himself able to walk, he could not
      resist the temptation of taking a look around him.
    </p>
    <p>
      Over a bottle of wine the unpleasant impressions made by this unfortunate
      occurrence appeared to be removed. In the mean time, Tom received a
      hundred congratulations and salutations; while Sparkle, after a glass or
      two, was missing.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall informed the friends around him, that his Cousin was a pupil of
      his, and begged to introduce him
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Mutton Walk&mdash;A flash term recently adopted to denominate
     the Saloon.

     2 A well known fruit-woman, who is in constant attendance,
     well acquainted with the girls and their protectors, and
     ready upon all occasions to give or convey information for
     the benefit of both parties.

     3 St&mdash;&mdash;ns&mdash;A very pretty round-faced young lady-bird, of
     rather small figure, inclining to be lusty.

     4 Johnny Raw&mdash;A country bumpkin.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[139]</span>as a future visitor to this gay scene.
      This had an instantaneous effect upon the trading fair ones, who began
      immediately to throw out their lures. One declared he had a sweet pretty
      brooch; another, that she knew he was a trump by the cut of his jib; a
      third, that he look'd like a gentleman, for she liked the make of his mug;
      a fourth, that his hat was a very pretty shaped one, although it was of a
      radical colour; and while Tom and the ladybird{l} were soothing the pains
      of the grey-headed wanton, Bob was as busily employed in handing about the
      contents of the bottle. A second and a third succeeded, and it was not a
      little astonishing to him that every bottle improved his appearance; for,
      though not one of his admirers remained long with him, yet the absence of
      one only brought another, equally attracted by his look and manner: every
      one declared he was really a gentleman in every respect, and in the course
      of their short parley, did not fail to slip a card into his hand. By this
      time he began to grow chatty, and was enabled to rally in turn the
      observations they made. He swore he lov'd them all round, and once or
      twice hummed over,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Dear creatures, we can't do without them,
          They're all that is sweet and seducing to man,
          Looking, sighing about, and about them,
          We doat on them&mdash;do for them, all that we can."
</pre>
    <p>
      The play being over, brought a considerable influx of company into the
      Saloon. The regular covies paired off with their covesses, and the moving
      panorama of elegance and fashion presented a scene that was truly
      delightful to Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Ladybird, who had been so attentive to the gouty customer, now wished
      him a good night, for, said she, "There is my friend,{2} and so I am off."
      This seemed only to increase the agony of his already agonized toe,
      notwithstanding which he presently toddled off, and was seen no more for
      the evening.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What's become of Sparkle," enquired Tom. "Stole away," was the reply.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Tipp'd us the double, has he," said Dashall. "Well, what think you of
      Drury-lane?"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Lady-bird&mdash;A dashing Cyprian.

     2 The term friend is in constant use among accessible
     ladies, and signifies their protector or keeper.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[140]</span>"'Tis a very delightful tragedy indeed,
      but performed in the most comical manner I ever witnessed in my life."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pshaw!" said Bob, "very few indeed, except the critics and the plebs,
      come here to look at the play; they come to see and be seen."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad then," said Bob, "a great many have been gratified to-night, and
      perhaps I have been highly honoured, for every person that has passed me
      has complimented me with a stare."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Which of course you did not fail to return?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly not; and upon my soul you have a choice show of fruit here."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," continued Tom, "London is a sort of hot-house, where fruit is
      forced into ripeness by the fostering and liberal sun of Folly, sooner
      than it would be, if left to its natural growth. Here however, you observe
      nothing but joyful and animated features, while perhaps the vulture of
      misery is gnawing at the heart. I could give you histories of several of
      these unfortunates,{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 A life of prostitution is a life fraught with too many
     miseries to be collected in any moderate compass. The mode
     in which they are treated, by parties who live upon the
     produce of their infamy, the rude and boisterous, nay, often
     brutal manner in which they are used by those with whom they
     occasionally associate, and the horrible reflections of
     their own minds, are too frequently and too fatally
     attempted to be obliterated by recourse to the Bacchanalian
     fount. Reason becomes obscured, and all decency and
     propriety abandoned. Passion rules predominantly until it
     extinguishes itself, and leaves the wretched victim of early
     delusion, vitiated both in body and mind, to drag on a
     miserable existence, without character, without friends, and
     almost without hope. There is unfortunately, however, no
     occasion for the exercise of imagination on this subject.
     The annals of our police occurrences, furnish too many
     examples of actual circumstances, deeply to be deplored; and
     we have selected one of a most atrocious kind which recently
     took place, and is recorded as follows:&mdash;

                    <i>Prostitution</i>.

     "An unfortunate girl, apparently about eighteen years of
     age, and of the most interesting and handsome person, but
     whose attire indicated extreme poverty and distress, applied
     to the sitting magistrate, Richard Bimie, Esq. under the
     following circum-stances:&mdash;It appeared from the statement,
     that she had for the last three weeks been living at a house
     of ill fame in Exeter-street, Strand, kept by a man named
     James Locke: this wretch had exacted the enormous sum of
     three guineas per week for her board and lodging, and in
     consequence of her not being able to pay the sum due for the
     last week, he threatened to strip her of her cloaths, and
     turn her naked into the street. This threat he deferred
     executing until yesterday morning (having in the mean time
     kept her locked up in a dark room, without any covering
     whatever,) when in lieu of her cloaths, he gave her the
     tattered and loathsome garments she then appeared in, which
     were barely sufficient to preserve common decency, and then
     brutally turned her into the street. Being thus plunged into
     the most abject wretchedness, without money or friends, to
     whom she could apply in her present situation, her bodily
     strength exhausted by the dissipated life she had led, and
     rendered more so by a long abstinence from food; her spirits
     broken and overcome by the bitter and humiliating
     reflection, that her own guilty conduct debarred her from
     flying to the fostering arms of affectionate parents, whom
     she had loaded with disgrace and misery; and the now
     inevitable exposure of her infamy, it was some time ere her
     wandering senses were sufficiently composed to determine
     what course she should pursue in the present emergency, when
     she thought she could not do better than have recourse to
     the justice of her country against the villain Lock, who had
     so basely treated her; and after extreme pain and
     difficulty, she succeeded in dragging her enfeebled limbs to
     the Office. During the detail of the foregoing particulars,
     she seemed overwhelmed with shame and remorse, and at times
     sobbed so violently as to render her voice inarticulate. Her
     piteous case excited the attention and sympathy of all
     present; and it was much to the general satisfaction that
     Mr. Bimie ordered Humphries, one of the conductors of the
     Patrol, to fetch Lock to the Office. On being brought there,
     the necessary proceedings were gone into for the purpose of
     indicting the house as a common brothel.

     "It was afterwards discovered that this unhappy girl was of
     the most respectable parents, and for the last six years had
     been residing with her Aunt. About three months ago, some
     difference having arisen between them, she absconded, taking
     with her only a few shillings, and the clothes she then
     wore. The first night of her remaining from home she went to
     Drury-lane Theatre, and was there pick'd up by a genteel
     woman dressed in black, who having learned her situation,
     enticed her to a house in Hart-street, Covent-garden, where
     the ruin of the poor girl was finally effected. It was not
     until she had immersed herself in vice and folly that she
     reflected on her situation, and it was then too late to
     retract; and after suffering unheard of miseries, was, in
     the short space of three months, reduced to her present
     state of wretchedness.

     "The worthy Magistrate ordered that proper care should be
     taken of the girl, which was readily undertaken on the part
     of the parish.

     "The Prisoner set up a defence, in which he said, a friend
     of the girl's owed him 14L. and that he detained her clothes
     for it&mdash;but was stopped by Mr. Bimie.

     "He at first treated the matter very lightly; but on
     perceiving the determination on the part of the parish to
     proceed, he offered to give up the things. This however he
     was not allowed to do."
</pre>
    <p>
      (who are exercising all their arts to entrap customers) apparently full of
      life and vivacity, who perhaps dare not approach <span class="pagenum">[142]</span>their
      homes without the produce of their successful blandishments. But this is
      not a place for moralizing&mdash;a truce to Old Care and the Blue Devils&mdash;Come
      on, my boy, let us take a turn in the Lobby&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Banish sorrow, griefs a folly;
          Saturn, bend thy wrinkled brow;
          Get thee hence, dull Melancholy,
          Mirth and wine invite us now.

          Love displays his mine of treasure,
          Comus brings us mirth and song!;
          Follow, follow, follow pleasure,
          Let us join the jovial throng."
</pre>
    <p>
      Upon this they adjourned to the Lobby, where a repetition of similar
      circumstances took place, with only this difference, that Tally ho having
      already been seen in the Saloon, and now introduced, leaning upon the arm
      of his Cousin, the enticing goddesses of pleasure hung around them at
      every step, every one anxious to be foremost in their assiduities to catch
      the new-comer's smile; and the odds were almost a cornucopia to a
      cabbage-net that Bob would be hook'd.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom was still evidently disappointed, and after pacing the Lobby once or
      twice, and whispering Bob to make his observations the subject of future
      inquiry, they returned to the Saloon, where Sparkle met them almost out of
      breath, declaring he had been hunting them in all parts of the House for
      the last half hour.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom laugh'd heartily at this, and complimented Sparkle on the ingenuity
      with which he managed his affairs. "But I see how it is," said he, "and I
      naturally suppose you are engaged."
    </p>
    <p>
      "'Suspicion ever haunts the guilty mind,' and I perceive clearly that you
      are only disappointed that you are not engaged&mdash;where are all your <i>golden</i>{1}
      dreams now?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pshaw! there is no such thing as speaking to you," said Tom, rather
      peevishly, "without feeling a lash like a cart-whip."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This was a touch of the satirical which it appears did not
     exactly suit the taste of Dashall, as it applied to the
     Ladybird who had attracted his attention on entering the
     house.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[143]</span>"Merely in return," continued Sparkle,
      "for the genteel, not to say gentle manner, in which you handle the
      horse-whip."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is something very mulish in all this," said Bob, interrupting the
      conversation, "I don't understand it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nor I neither," said Tom, leaving the arm of his Cousin, and stepping
      forward.
    </p>
    <p>
      This hasty dismissal of the subject under debate had been occasioned by
      the appearance of a Lady, whose arm Tom immediately took upon leaving that
      of his cousin, a circumstance which seemed to restore harmony to all
      parties. Tallyho and Sparkle soon joined them, and after a few turns for
      the purpose of seeing, and being seen, it was proposed to adjourn to the
      Oyster-shop directly opposite the front of the Theatre; and with that view
      they in a short time departed, but not without an addition of two other
      ladies, selected from the numerous frequenters of the Saloon, most of whom
      appeared to be well known both to Tom and Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      The appearance of the outside was very pleasing&mdash;the brilliance of
      the lights&mdash;the neat and cleanly style in which its contents were
      displayed seemed inviting to appetite, and in a very short time a cheerful
      repast was served up; while the room was progressively filling with
      company, and Mother P&mdash;&mdash;was kept in constant activity.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob was highly gratified with the company, and the manner in which they
      were entertained.
    </p>
    <p>
      A vast crowd of dashing young Beaux and elegantly dressed Belles, calling
      about them for oysters, lobsters, salmon, shrimps, bread and butter,
      soda-water, ginger-beer, &amp;c. kept up a sort of running accompaniment
      to the general conversation in which they were engaged; when the mirth and
      hilarity of the room was for a moment delayed upon the appearance of a
      dashing Blade, who seemed as he entered to say to himself,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Plebeians, avaunt! I have altered my plan, Metamorphosed completely,
      behold a Fine Man! That is, throughout town I am grown quite the rage, The
      meteor of fashion, the Buck of the age."
    </p>
    <p>
      He was dressed in the extreme of fashion, and seemed desirous of imparting
      the idea of his great importance to all around him: he had a
      light-coloured great-coat with immense mother o' pearl buttons and double
      <span class="pagenum">[144]</span>capes, Buff or Petersham breeches, and
      coat of <i>sky-blue</i>,{1} his hat cocked on one side, and stout
      ground-ashen stick in his hand. It was plain to be seen that the juice of
      the grape had been operative upon the upper story, as he reeled to the
      further end of the room, and, calling the attendant, desired her to bring
      him a bottle of soda-water, for he was <i>lushy</i>,{2} by G&mdash;&mdash;d;
      then throwing himself into a box, which he alone occupied, he stretched
      himself at length on the seat, and seemed as if he would go to sleep.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That (said Sparkle) is a distinguished Member of the Tilbury Club, and is
      denominated a Ruffian, a kind of character that gains ground, as to
      numbers, over the Exquisite, but he is very different in polish.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1  A partiality to these coloured habits is undoubtedly
     intended to impress upon the minds of plebeian beholders an
     exalted idea of their own consequence, or to prove, perhaps,
     that their conceptions are as superior to common ones as the
     sky is to the earth.

     2  The variety of denominations that have at different times
     been given to drunkenness forms an admirable specimen of
     ingenuity well worthy of remark. The derivation of Lushy, we
     believe, is from a very common expression, that a drunken
     man votes for Lushington; but perhaps it would be rather
     difficult to discover the origin of many terms made use of
     to express a jolly good fellow, and no flincher under the
     effects of good fellowship. It is said&mdash;that he is drunk,
     intoxicated, fuddled, muddled, flustered, rocky, reely,
     tipsy, merry, half-boosy, top-heavy, chuck-full, cup-sprung,
     pot-valiant, maudlin, a little how came you so, groggy,
     jolly, rather mightitity, in drink, in his cups, high, in
     uubibus, under the table, slew'd, cut, merry, queer, quisby,
     sew'd up, over-taken, elevated, cast away, concerned, half-
     coek'd, exhilarated, on a merry pin, a little in the suds,
     in a quandary, wing'd as wise as Solomon.
</pre>
    <p>
      It is also said, that he has business on both sides of the way, got his
      little hat on, bung'd his eye, been in the sun, got a spur in his head,
      (this is frequently used by brother Jockeys to each other) got a crumb in
      his beard, had a little, had enough, got more than he can carry, been
      among the Philistines, lost his legs, been in a storm, got his night-cap
      on, got his skin full, had a cup too much, had his cold tea, a red eye,
      got his dose, a pinch of snuff in his wig, overdone it, taken draps,
      taking a lunar, sugar in his eye, had his wig oil'd, that he is diddled,
      dish'd and done up.
    </p>
    <p>
      He clips the King's English, sees double, reels, heels a little, heels and
      sets, shews his hob-nails, looks as if he couldn't help it, takes an
      observation, chases geese, loves a drap, and cannot sport a right line,
      can't walk a chalk.
    </p>
    <p>
      He is as drunk as a piper, drunk as an owl, drunk as David's sow, drunk as
      a lord, fuddled as an ape, merry as a grig, happy as a king.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[145]</span>"In the higher circles, a Ruffian is one
      of the many mushroom-productions which the sun of prosperity brings to
      life. Stout in general is his appearance, but Dame Nature has done little
      for him, and Fortune has spoilt even that little. To resemble his groom
      and his coachman is his highest ambition. He is a perfect horseman, a
      perfect whip, but takes care never to be a perfect gentleman. His
      principal accomplishments are sporting, swaggering, milling, drawing, and
      greeking.{1} He takes the ribands in his hands, mounts his box, with
      Missus by his side&mdash;"All right, ya hip, my hearties"&mdash;drives his
      empty mail with four prime tits&mdash;cuts out a Johnny-raw&mdash;shakes
      his head, and lolls out his tongue at him; and if he don't break his own
      neck, gets safe home after his morning's drive.
    </p>
    <p>
      "He is always accompanied by a brace at least of dogs in his morning
      visits; and it is not easy to determine on these occasions which is the
      most troublesome animal of the two, the biped or the quadruped."
    </p>
    <p>
      This description caused a laugh among the Ladybirds, who thought it vastly
      amusing, while it was also listened to with great attention by Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Hon. Tom Dashall in the mean time was in close conversation with his
      mott{2} in the corner of the Box, and was getting, as Sparkle observed,
      "rather nutty{3} in that quarter of the globe."
    </p>
    <p>
      The laugh which concluded Sparkle's account of the Tilbury-club man roused
      him from his sleep, and also attracted the attention of Tom and his
      inamorata.
    </p>
    <p>
      "D&mdash;&mdash;n my eyes," said the fancy cove, as he rubbed open his
      peepers,{4}" am I awake or asleep?&mdash;what a h&mdash;&mdash;ll of a
      light there is!"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Greeking&mdash;An epithet generally applied to gambling and
     gamblers, among the polished hells of society, principally
     to be found in and near St. James's: but of this more
     hereafter.

     2 Mott&mdash;A blowen, or woman of the town. We know not from
     whom or whence the word originated, but we recollect some
     lines of an old song in which the term is made use of, viz.

          "When first I saw this flaming Mutt,
          'Twas at the sign of the Pewter Pot;
          We call'd for some Purl, and we had it hot,
          With Gin and Bitters too."

     3 Nutty&mdash;Amorous.

     4 An elegant and expressive term for the eyes.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[146]</span>This was followed immediately by the
      rattling of an engine with two torches, accompanied by an immense
      concourse of people following it at full speed past the window.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is well lit, by Jove," said the sleeper awake, "where ever it is;" and
      with that he tipp'd the <i>slavey</i>{1}1 a tanner,{2} and mizzled.
    </p>
    <p>
      The noise and confusion outside of the House completely put a stop to all
      harmony and comfort within.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It must be near us," said Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is Covent Garden Theatre, in my opinion," said Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob said nothing, but kept looking about him in a sort
    </p>
    <p>
      of wild surprise.
    </p>
    <p>
      "However," said Tom, "wherever it is, we must go and have a peep."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are a very gallant fellow, truly," said one of the bewitchers&mdash;"I
      thought&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "And so did I," said Tom&mdash;"but 'rest the babe&mdash;the time it shall
      come'&mdash;never mind, we won't be disappointed; but here, (said he) as I
      belong to the Tip and Toddle Club, I don't mean to disgrace my calling, by
      forgetting my duty." And slipping a something into her hand, her note was
      immediately changed into,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, I always thought you was a trump, and I likes a man that behaves
      like a gentleman."
    </p>
    <p>
      Something of the same kind was going on between the other two, which
      proved completely satisfactory.
    </p>
    <p>
      "So then, Mr. Author, it seems you have raised a fire to stew the oysters,
      and leave your Readers to feast upon the blaze."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hold for a moment, and be not so testy, and for your satisfaction I can
      solemnly promise, that if the oysters are stewed, you shall have good and
      sufficient notice of the moment they are to be on table&mdash;But, bless
      my heart, how the fire rages!&mdash;I can neither spare time nor wind to
      parley a moment longer&mdash;Tom and Bob have already started off with the
      velocity of a race-horse, and if I lose them, I should cut but a poor
      figure with my Readers afterward.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pray, Sir, can you tell me where the fire is?" 'Really, Sir, I don't
      know, but I am told it is somewhere by Whitechapel.'
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Slaveys&mdash;Servants of either sex.

     2 Tanner&mdash;A flash term for a sixpence.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[147]</span>"Could you inform me Madam, whereabouts
      the fire is?"
    </p>
    <p>
      'Westminster Road, Sir, as I am informed.' "Westminster, and Whitechapel&mdash;some
      little difference of opinion I find as usual&mdash;however, I have just
      caught sight of Tom, and he's sure to be on the right scent; so adieu, Mr.
      Reader, for the present, and have no doubt but I shall soon be able to
      throw further light on the subject."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Some folks in the streets, by the Lord, made me stare,
          So comical, droll, is the dress that they wear,
          For the Gentlemen's waists are atop of their backs,
          And their large cassock trowsers they tit just like sacks.
          Then the Ladies&mdash;their dresses are equally queer,
          They wear such large bonnets, no face can appear:
          It puts me in mind, now don't think I'm a joker,
          Of a coal-scuttle stuck on the head of a poker.
          In their bonnets they wear of green leaves such a power,
          It puts me in mind of a great cauliflower;
          And their legs, 1 am sure, must be ready to freeze,
          For they wear all their petticoats up to their knees.
          They carry large bags full of trinkets and lockets,
          'Cause the fashion is now not to wear any pockets;
          "While to keep off the flies, and to hide from beholders,
          A large cabbage-net is thrown over their shoulders."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[148]</span>IN a moment all was consternation,
      confusion, and alarm. The brilliant light that illuminated the surrounding
      buildings presented a scene of dazzling splendour, mingled with sensations
      of horror not easily to be described. The rattling of engines, the
      flashing of torches, and the shouting of thousands, by whom they were
      followed and surrounded, all combined to give lively interest to the
      circumstance.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was quickly ascertained that the dreadful conflagration had taken place
      at an extensive Timber-yard, within a very short distance of the Theatres,
      situated as it were nearly in the centre, between Covent Garden and Drury
      Lane. Men, women, and children, were seen running in all directions; and
      report, with his ten thousand tongues, here found an opportunity for the
      exercise of them all; assertion and denial followed each other in rapid
      succession, while the flames continued to increase. Our party being thus
      abruptly disturbed in their anticipated enjoyments, bade adieu to their
      Doxies,{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Doxies&mdash;A flash term frequently made use of to denominate
     ladies of easy virtue.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[149]</span>and rushed forward to the spot, where
      they witnessed the devouring ravages of the yet unquenched element,
      consuming with resistless force all that came in its way.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Button up," said Tom, "and let us keep together, for upon these
      occasions,
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Scamps,{1} the Pads,{2} the Divers,{3} are all upon the lay."{4}
    </p>
    <p>
      The Flash Molishers,{5} in the vicinity of Drury Lane, were out in
      parties, and it was reasonable to suppose, that where there was so much
      heat, considerable thirst must also prevail; consequently the Sluiceries
      were all in high request, every one of those in the neighbourhood being
      able to boast of overflowing Houses, without any imputation upon their
      veracity. We say nothing of elegant genteel, or enlightened audiences, so
      frequently introduced in the Bills from other houses in the neighbourhood;
      even the door-ways were block'd up with the collectors and imparters of
      information. Prognostications as to how and where it began, how it would
      end, and the property that would be consumed, were to be met at every
      corner&mdash;Snuffy Tabbies, and Boosy Kids, some giving way to
      jocularity, and others indulging in lamentations.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hot, hot, hot, all hot," said a Black man, as he pushed in and out among
      the crowd; with "Hoot awa', the de'il tak your soul, mon, don't you think
      we are all hot eneugh?&mdash;gin ye bring more hot here I'll crack your
      croon&mdash;I've been roasting alive for the last half hoor, an' want to
      be ganging, but I can't get out."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hot, hot, hot, all hot, Ladies and Gentlemen," said the dingy dealer in
      delicacies, and almost as soon disappeared among the crowd, where he found
      better opportunities for vending his rarities.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Lumps of pudding," said Tom, jerking Tallyho by the arm, "what do you
      think of a slice? here's accommodation for you&mdash;all hot, ready
      dress'd, and well done."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad!" said Bob, "I think we shall be well done ourselves presently."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Keep your hands out of my pockets, you lousy beggar,"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Scamps&mdash;Highwaymen.

     2 Pads&mdash;Foot-pads.

     3 Divers&mdash;Pickpockets.

     4  The Lay&mdash;Upon the look-out for opportunities for the
     exercise of their profession.

     5 Flash Molishers&mdash;a term given to low Prostitutes.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[150]</span>said a tall man standing near them, "or
      b&mdash;&mdash; me if I don't mill you."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You mill me, vhy you don't know how to go about it, Mr. Bully Brag, and I
      doesn't care half a farden for you&mdash;you go for to say as how I&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Take that, then," said the other, and gave him a floorer; but he was
      prevented from falling by those around him.
    </p>
    <p>
      The salute was returned in good earnest, and a random sort of fight
      ensued. The accompaniments of this exhibition were the shrieks of the
      women, and the shouts of the partisans of each of the Bruisers&mdash;the
      cries of "Go it, little one&mdash;stick to it&mdash;tip it him&mdash;sarve
      him out&mdash;ring, ring&mdash;give 'em room&mdash;foul, foul&mdash;fair,
      fair," &amp;c." At this moment the Firemen, who had been actively engaged
      in endeavours to subdue the devouring flames, obtained a supply of water:
      the engines were set to work, and the Foreman directed the pipe so as to
      throw the water completely into the mob which had collected round them.
      This had the desired effect of putting an end to the squabble, and
      dispersing a large portion of the multitude, at least to some distance, so
      as to leave good and sufficient room for their operations.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Devil take it," cried Sparkle, "I am drench'd."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ditto repeated," said Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Curse the fellow," cried Bob, "I am sopp'd."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind," continued Tom,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          .  .  .  "By fellowship in woe,
          Scarce half our pain we know."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Since we are all in it, there is no laughing allowed."
    </p>
    <p>
      In a short time, the water flowed through the street in torrents; the
      pumping of the engines, and the calls of the Firemen, were all the noises
      that could be heard, except now and then the arrival of additional
      assistance.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob watched minutely the skill and activity of those robust and hardy men,
      who were seen in all directions upon the tops of houses, &amp;c. near the
      calamitous scene, giving information to those below; and he was astonished
      to see the rapidity with which they effected their object.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having ascertained as far as they could the extent of the damage, and that
      no lives were lost, Tom proposed a move, and Sparkle gladly seconded the
      motion&mdash;"for," said he, "I am so wet, though I cannot complain of
      being <span class="pagenum">[151]</span>cold, that I think I resemble the
      fat man who seemed something like two single gentlemen roll'd into one,'
      and 'who after half a year's baking declared he had been so cursed hot, he
      was sure he'd caught cold;' so come along."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Past twelve o'clock," said a Charley, about three parts sprung, and who
      appeared to have more light in his head than he could shew from his
      lantern.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Stop thief, stop thief," was vociferated behind them; and the night
      music, the rattles, were in immediate use in several quarters&mdash;a rush
      of the crowd almost knock'd Bob off his pins, and he would certainly have
      fell to the ground, but his nob{l} came with so much force against the
      bread-basket{2} of the groggy guardian of the night, that he was turn'd
      keel upwards,{3} and rolled with his lantern, staff, and rattle, into the
      overflowing kennel; a circumstance which perhaps had really no bad effect,
      for in all probability it brought the sober senses of the Charley a little
      more into action than the juice of the juniper had previously allowed. He
      was dragged from his birth, and his coat, which was of the blanket kind,
      brought with it a plentiful supply of the moistening fluid, being
      literally sous'd from head to foot.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob fished for the <i>darkey</i>{4}&mdash;the <i>musical instrument</i>{5}&mdash;and
      the post of honour, alias the <i>supporter of peace</i>;{6} but he was not
      yet complete, for he had dropped his <i>canister-cap</i>,{7} which was at
      length found by a flash molisher, and drawn from the pool, full of water,
      who appeared to know him, and swore he was one of the best fellows on any
      of the beats round about; and that they had got hold of a Fire-prigger,{8}
      and bundled{9} him off to St. Giles's watch-house, because he was bolting
      with a <i>bag of togs</i>.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Nob&mdash;The head.

     2 Bread-basket&mdash;The stomach.

     3 Keel upwards&mdash;Originally a sea phrase, and most in use
     among sailors, &amp;c.

     4 Darkey&mdash;Generally made use of to signify a dark lantern.

     5 Musical instrument&mdash;a rattle.

     6 Post of honour, or supporter of his peace&mdash;Stick, or
     cudgel.

     7 "Canister-cap&mdash;&amp; hat.

     8 Fire-prigger&mdash;No beast of prey can be more noxious to
     society or destitute of feeling than those who plunder the
     unfortunate sufferers under that dreadful and destructive
     calamity, fire. The tiger who leaps on the unguarded
     passenger will fly from the fire, and the traveller shall be
     protected by it; while these wretches, who attend on  fires,
     and rob the unfortunate  sufferers   under pretence of
     coming to give assistance, and assuming the style and manner
     of neighbours, take advantage of distress and confusion.
     Such wretches have a more eminent claim to the detestation
     of society, than almost any other of those who prey upon it.

     9 Bundled&mdash;Took, or conveyed.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[152]</span>The feeble old scout shook his dripping
      wardrobe, d&mdash;&mdash;d the water and the boosy kid that wallof'd him
      into it, but without appearing to know which was him; till Bob stepped up,
      and passing some silver into his mawley, told him he hoped he was not
      hurt. And our party then, moved on in the direction for Russel-street,
      Covent-garden, when Sparkle again mentioned his wet condition, and
      particularly recommended a glass of Cogniac by way of preventive from
      taking cold. "A good motion well made (said Tom;) and here we are just by
      the Harp, where we can be fitted to a shaving; so come along."
    </p>
    <p>
      Having taken this, as Sparkle observed, very necessary precaution, they
      pursued their way towards Piccadilly, taking their route under the Piazzas
      of Covent-garden, and thence up James-street into Long-acre, where they
      were amused by a circumstance of no very uncommon kind in London, but
      perfectly new to Tallyho. Two Charleys had in close custody a sturdy young
      man (who was surrounded by several others,) and was taking him to the
      neighbouring watch-house "What is the matter?" said Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, 'tis only a little bit of a dead body-snatcher," said one of the
      guardians. "He has been up to the resurrection rig.{1} Here," continued
      he, "I've got the bone-basket,"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Resurrection rig&mdash;This subject, though a grave one, has
     been treated by many with a degree of comicality calculated
     to excite considerable risibility. A late well known
     humorist has related the following anecdote:

     Some young men, who had been out upon the spree, returning
     home pretty well primed after drinking plentifully, found
     themselves so dry as they passed a public house where they
     were well known, they could not resist the desire they had
     of calling on their old friend, and taking a glass of brandy
     with him by way of finish, as they termed it; and finding
     the door open, though it was late, were tempted to walk in.
     But their old friend was out of temper. "What is the
     matter?"&mdash;"Matter enough," replied Boniface; "here have I
     got an old fool of a fellow occupying my parlour dead drunk,
     and what the devil to do with him I don't know. He can
     neither walk nor speak."

     "Oh," said one of the party, who knew that a resurrection
     Doctor resided in the next street, "I'll remove that
     nuisance, if that's all you have to complain of; only lend
     me a sack, and I'll sell him."

     A sack  was   produced,  and   the   Bacchanalian,  who
     almost appeared void of animation, was without much
     difficulty thrust into it. "Give me a lift," said the
     frolicsome blade, and away he went with the load. On
     arriving at the doctor's door, he pulled the night bell,
     when the Assistant made his appearance, not un-accustomed to
     this sort of nocturnal visitant.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[153]</span>holding up a bag, "and it was taken off
      his shoulder as he went along Mercer-street, so he can't say nothing at
      all.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have brought you a subject&mdash;all right."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come in. What is it, a man or a woman?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "A man."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Down with him&mdash;that corner. D&mdash;&mdash;n it, I was fast asleep.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Call for the sack in the morning, will you, for I want to get to bed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart."
    </p>
    <p>
      Then going to a drawer, and bringing the customary fee, "Here, (said he)
      be quick and be off." This was exactly what the other wanted; and having
      secured the rubbish,{1} the door was shut upon him. This, however, was no
      sooner done, than the Boosy Kid in the sack, feeling a sudden internal
      turn of the contents of his stomach, which brought with it a heaving,
      fell, from the upright situation in which he had been placed, on the
      floor. This so alarmed the young Doctor, that he ran with all speed after
      the vender, and just coming up to him at the corner of the street.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, (said he) you have left me a living man!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind, (replied the other;) kill him when you want him." And making
      good use of his heels he quickly disappeared.
    </p>
    <p>
      A Comedian of some celebrity, but who is now too old for theatrical
      service, relates a circumstance which occurred to him upon his first
      arrival in town:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Having entered into an engagement to appear upon the boards of one of the
      London Theatres, he sought the metropolis some short time before the
      opening of the House; and conceiving it necessary to his profession to
      study life&mdash;real life as it is,&mdash;he was accustomed to mingle
      promiscuously in almost all society. With this view he frequently entered
      the tap rooms of the lowest public houses, to enjoy his pipe and his pint,
      keeping the main object always in view&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "To catch the manners living as they rise."
    </p>
    <p>
      Calling one evening at one of these houses, not far from Drury Lane, he
      found some strapping fellows engaged in conversation, interlarded with
      much flash and low slang; but decently dressed, he mingled in a sort of
      general dialogue with them on the state of the weather, politics, &amp;c.
      After sitting some time in their company, and particularly noticing their
      persons and apparent character&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "Come, Bill, it is time to be off, it is getting rather
     darkish." "Ah, very well (replied the other,) let us have
     another quart, and then I am your man for a bit of a lark."
     By this time they had learned that the Comedian was but
     newly arrived in town; and he on the other hand was desirous
     of seeing what they meant to be up to. After another quart
     they were about to move, when, said one to the other, "As we
     are only going to have a stroll and a bit of fun, perhaps
     that there young man would like to join us."

     "Ah, what say you, Sir? have you any objection? but perhaps
     you have business on hand and are engaged&mdash;"

     "No, I have nothing particular to do," was the reply. "Very
     well, then if you like to go with us, we shall be glad of
     your company."

     "Well (said he,) I don't care if I do spend an hour with
     you." And with that they sallied forth.

     After rambling about for some time in the vicinity of
     Tottenham Court Road, shewing him some of the Squares, &amp;c.
     describing the names of streets, squares, and buildings,
     they approached St. Giles's, and leading him under a
     gateway, "Stop, (said one) we must call upon Jack, you know,
     for old acquaintance sake," and gave a loud knock at the
     door; which being opened without a word, they all walked in,
     and the door was instantly lock'd. He was now introduced to
     a man of squalid appearance, with whom they all shook hands:
     the mode of introduction was not however of so satis-factory
     a description as had been expected, being very laconic, and
     conveyed in the following language:&mdash;"We have got him."

     "Yes, yes, it is all right&mdash;come, Jack, serve us out some
     grog, and then to business."

     The poor Comedian in the mean time was left in the utmost
     anxiety and surprise to form an opinion of his situation;
     for as he had heard something about trepanning, pressing,
     &amp;c. he could not help entertaining serious suspicion that he
     should either be com-pelled to serve as a soldier or a
     sailor; and as he had no intention "to gain a name in arms,"
     they were neither of them suitable to his inclinations.

     "Come," (said one) walk up stairs and sit down&mdash;Jack, bring
     the lush "&mdash;and up stairs they went.

     Upon entering a gloomy room, somewhat large, with only a
     small candle, he had not much opportunity of discovering
     what sort of a place it was, though it looked wretched
     enough. The grog was brought&mdash;"Here's all round the grave-
     stone, (said one)&mdash;come, drink away, my hearty&mdash;don't be
     alarm'd, we are rum fellows, and we'll put you up to a rig
     or two&mdash;we are got a rum covey in the corner there, and you
     must lend us a hand to get rid of him:" then, holding up the
     light, what was the surprise of the poor Comedian to espy a
     dead body of a man&mdash;"You can help us to get him away, and
     by G&mdash;&mdash;you shall, too, it's of no use to flinch now."

     A circumstance of this kind was new to him, so that his
     perplexity was only increased by the discovery; but he
     plainly perceived by the last declaration, that having
     engaged in the business, it would be of no use to leave it
     half done: he therefore remained silent upon the subject,
     drank his grog, when Jack came up stairs to say the cart was
     ready.

     "Lend a hand, (said one of them) let us get our load down
     stairs&mdash;come, my Master, turn to with a good heart, all's
     right."

     With this the body was conveyed down stairs.

     At the back of the house was a small yard separated from a
     neighbouring street by a wall&mdash;a signal was given by some
     one on the other side which was understood by those within&mdash;
     it was approaching nine o'clock, and a dark night&mdash;"Come,
     (said one of them,) mount you to the top of the wall, and
     ding the covey over to the carcass-carter." This being
     complied with, the dead body was handed up to him, which was
     no sooner done than the Carman outside, perceiving the
     Watchman approach&mdash;"It von't do," said he, and giving a
     whistle, drove his cart with an assumed air of carelessness
     away; while the poor Comedian, who had a new character to
     support, in which he did not conceive himself well up,{1}
     was holding the dead man on his lap with the legs projecting
     over the wall; it was a situation of the utmost delicacy and
     there was no time to recast the part, he was therefore,
     obliged to blunder through it as well as he could; the
     perspiration of the living man fell plentifully on the
     features of the dead as the Charley approached in a position
     to pass directly under him. Those inside had sought the
     shelter of the house, telling him to remain quiet till the
     old Scout was gone by. Now although he was not fully
     acquainted with the consequences of discovery, he was
     willing and anxious to avoid them: he therefore took the
     advice, and scarcely moved or breathed&mdash;"Past nine o'clock,"
     said the Watchman, as he passed under the legs of the dead
     body without looking up, though he was within an inch of
     having his castor brushed off by them. Being thus relieved,
     he was happy to see the cart return; he handed over the
     unpleasant burthen, and as quick as possible afterwards
     descended from his elevated situation into the street,
     determining at all hazards to see the result of this to him
     extraordinary adventure; with this view he followed the cart
     at a short distance, keeping his eye upon it as he went
     along; and in one of the streets leading to Long Acre, he
     perceived a man endeavouring to look into the back part of
     the cart, but was diverted from his object by one of the men
     who had introduced him to the house, while another of the
     confederates snatched the body from the cart, and ran with
     all speed down another street in an opposite direction. This
     movement had attracted the notice of the Watchman, who,
     being prompt in his movements, had sprung his rattle. Upon
     this, and feeling himself too heavily laden to secure his
     retreat, the fellow with the dead man perceiving the gate of
     an area open, dropped his burden down the steps, slam'd the
     gate after him, and continued to fly, but was stopped at the
     end of the street; in the mean time the Charley in pursuit
     had knock'd at the door of the house where the stolen goods
     (as he supposed) were deposited.

          1 A cant phrase for money.

     It was kept by an old maiden lady, who, upon discovering the
     dead body of a man upon her premises, had fainted in the
     Watchman's arms. The detection of the running
     Resurrectionist was followed by a walk to the watch-house,
     where his companions endeavoured to make it appear that they
     had all been dining at Wandsworth together, that he was not
     the person against whom the hue and cry had been raised. But
     <i>old Snoosey</i>{l} said it wouldn't do, and he was therefore
     detained to appear before the Magistrate in the morning. The
     Comedian, who had minutely watched their proceedings, took
     care to be at Bow-street in good time; where he found upon
     the affidavits of two of his comrades, who swore they had
     dined together at Wandsworth, their pal was liberated.

          1 The Constable of the night.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[156]</span>Bob could not very well understand what
      was the meaning of this lingo; he was perfectly at a loss to comprehend
      the terms of deadbody snatching and the resurrection rig. The crowd
      increased as they went along; and as they did not exactly relish their
      company, Sparkle led. them across the way, and then proceeded to explain.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why," said Sparkle, "the custom of dead-body snatching has become very
      common in London, and in many cases appears to be winked at by the
      Magistrates; for although it is considered a felony in law, it is also
      acknowledged in some degree to be necessary for the Surgeons, in order to
      have an opportunity of obtaining practical information. It is however, at
      the same time, a source of no slight distress to the parents and friends
      of the parties who are dragg'd from the peaceful security of the tomb. The
      <i>Resurrection-men</i> are generally well rewarded for their labours by
      the Surgeons who employ them to procure subjects; they are for the most
      part fellows who never stick at trifles, but make a decent livelihood by
      moving off, if they can, not only the bodies, but coffins, shrouds, &amp;c.
      and are always upon the look-out wherever there is a funeral&mdash;nay,
      there have been instances in which the bodies have been dug from their
      graves within a few hours after being deposited there."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is a shameful practice," said Bob, "and ought not to be tolerated,
      however; nor can I conceive how, with the apparent vigilance of the
      Police, it can be carried on."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nothing more easy," said Sparkle, "where the plan is well laid. These
      fellows, when they hear a passing-bell toll, skulk about the parish from
      ale-house to ale-house, till <span class="pagenum">[157]</span>they can
      learn a proper account of what the deceased died of, what condition the
      body is in, &amp;c. with which account they go to a <i>Resurrection Doctor</i>,
      who agrees for a price, which is mostly five guineas, for the body of a
      man, and then bargain with an Undertaker for the shroud, coffin, &amp;c.
      which, perhaps with a little alteration, may serve to run through the
      whole family."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And is it possible," said Bob, "that there are persons who will enter
      into such bargains?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No doubt of it; nay, there was an instance of a man really selling his
      own body to a Surgeon, to be appropriated to his own purposes when dead,
      for a certain weekly sum secured to him while living; but in robbing the
      church-yards there are always many engaged in the rig&mdash;for notice is
      generally given that the body will be removed in the night, to which the
      Sexton is made privy, and receives the information with as much ease as he
      did to have it brought&mdash;his price being a guinea for the use of the
      <i>grubbing irons</i>, adjusting the grave, &amp;c. This system is
      generally carried on in little country church-yards within a few miles of
      London. A hackney-coach or a cart is ready to receive the stolen property,
      and there cannot be a doubt but many of these depredations are attended
      with success, the parties escaping with their prey undetected&mdash;nay, I
      know of an instance that occurred a short time back, of a young man who
      was buried at Wesley's Chapel, on which occasion one of the mourners, a
      little more wary than the rest, could not help observing two or three
      rough fellows in the ground during the ceremony, which aroused his
      suspicion that they intended after interment to have the body of his
      departed friend; this idea became so strongly rooted in his mind, that he
      imparted his suspicions to the remainder of those who had followed him:
      himself and another therefore determined if possible to satisfy themselves
      upon the point, by returning in the dusk of the evening to reconnoitre.
      They accordingly proceeded to the spot, but the gates being shut, one of
      them climbed to the top of the wall, where he discovered the very parties,
      he had before noticed, in the act of wrenching open the coffin. Here they
      are, said he, hard at it, as I expected. But before he and his friend
      could get over the wall, the villains effected their escape, leaving
      behind them a capacious sack and all the implements of their infernal
      trade. They secured the body, had <span class="pagenum">[158]</span>it
      conveyed home again, and in a few days re-buried it in a place of greater
      security.{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob was surprised at this description of the <i>Resurrection-rig</i>, but
      was quickly drawn from his contemplation of the depravity of human nature,
      and what he could not help thinking the dirty employments of life, by a
      shouting apparently from several voices as they passed the end of St.
      Martin's Lane: it came from about eight persons, who appeared to be
      journeymen mechanics, with pipes in their mouths, some of them rather <i>rorytorious</i>,{2}
      who, as they approached, broke altogether into the following
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          SONG.{3}

          "I'm a frolicsome young fellow, I live at my ease,
          I work when I like, and I play when I please;
          I'm frolicsome, good-natured&mdash;I'm happy and free,
          And I care not a jot what the world thinks of me.

          With my bottle and glass some hours I pass,
          Sometimes with my friend, and sometimes with my lass:
          I'm frolicsome, good-natur'd&mdash;I'm happy and free,
          And I don't care one jot what the world thinks of me.

          By the cares of the nation I'll ne'er be perplex'd,
          I'm always good-natur'd, e'en though I am vex'd;
          I'm frolicsome, good-humour'd&mdash;I'm happy and free,
          And I don't care one d&mdash;&mdash;n what the world thinks of me.

     1 A circumstance very similar to the one here narrated by
     Sparkle actually occurred, and can be well authenticated.

     2 Rorytorious&mdash;Noisy.

     3 This song is not introduced for the elegance of its
     composition, but as the Author has actually heard it in the
     streets at the flight of night or the peep of day, sung in
     full chorus, as plain as the fumes of the pipes and the
     hiccups would allow the choristers at those hours to
     articulate; and as it is probably the effusion of some
     Shopmate in unison with the sentiments of many, it forms
     part of Real Life deserving of being recorded in this Work.

     Particular trades have particular songs suitable to the
     employment in which they are engaged, which while at work
     the whole of the parties will join in. In Spitalfields,
     Bethnal-green, &amp;c. principally inhabited by weavers, it is
     no uncommon thing to hear twenty or thirty girls singing,
     with their shuttles going&mdash;The Death of Barbary Allen&mdash;There
     was an old Astrologer&mdash;Mary's Dream, or Death and the Lady;
     and we remember a Watch-maker who never objected to hear his
     boys sing; but although he was himself a loyal subject, he
     declared he could not bear God Save the King; and upon being
     ask'd his reason&mdash;Why, said he, it is too slow&mdash;for as the
     time goes, so the fingers move&mdash;Give us <i>Drops of Brandy</i>,
     or <i>Go to the Devil and Shake Yourself</i>&mdash;then I shall have
     some work done.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[159]</span>This Song, which was repeated three or
      four times, was continued till their arrival at Newport-market, where the
      Songsters divided: our party pursued their way through Coventry-street,
      and arrived without further adventure or interruption safely at home.
      Sparkle bade them adieu, and proceeded to Bond-street; and Tom and Bob
      sought the repose of the pillow.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is said that "Music hath charms to sooth the savage breast," and it
      cannot but be allowed that the <i>Yo heave ho</i>, of our Sailors, or the
      sound of a fiddle, contribute much to the speed of weighing anchor.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is an indisputable fact that there are few causes which more decidedly
      form, or at least there are few evidences which more clearly indicate, the
      true character of a nation, than its Songs and Ballads. It has been
      observed by the learned Selden, that you may see which way the wind sets
      by throwing a straw up into the air, when you cannot make the same
      discovery by tossing up a stone or other weighty substance. Thus it is
      with Songs and Ballads, respecting the state of public feeling, when
      productions of a more elaborate nature fail in their elucidations: so much
      so that it is related of a great Statesman, who was fully convinced of the
      truth of the observation, that he said, "Give me the making of the
      national Ballads, and I care not who frames your Laws." Every day's
      experience tends to prove the power which the <i>sphere-born</i> Sisters
      of harmony, voice, and verse, have over the human mind. "I would rather,"
      says Mr. Sheridan, "have written Glover's song of 'Hosier's Ghost' than
      the Annals of Tacitus."<span class="pagenum">[160]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     O what a town, what a wonderful Metropolis!
     Sure such a town as this was never seen;
     Mayor, common councilmen, citizens and populace,
     Wand'ring from Poplar to Turnham Green.

     Chapels, churches, synagogues, distilleries and county banks&mdash;
     Poets, Jews and gentlemen, apothecaries, mountebanks&mdash;
     There's Bethlem Hospital, and there the Picture Gallery;
     And there's Sadler's Wells, and there the Court of Chancery.

     O such a town, such a wonderful Metropolis,
     Sure such a town as this was never seen!
     O such a town, and such a heap of carriages,
     Sure such a motley group was never seen;
     Such a swarm of young and old, of buryings and marriages,
     All the world seems occupied in ceaseless din.

     There's the Bench, and there's the Bank&mdash;now only take a peep at her&mdash;
     And there's Rag Fair, and there the East-London Theatre&mdash;
     There's St. James's all so fine, St. Giles's all in tattery,
     Where fun and frolic dance the rig from Saturday to Saturday.
     O what a town, what a wonderful Metropolis,
     Sure such a town as this was never seen!
</pre>
    <p>
      A SHORT time after this day's ramble, the Hon. Tom Dash all and his friend
      Tallyho paid a visit to the celebrated Tattersall's.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page160.jpg" alt="Page160 Tattersall's " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      "This," said Tom, "is a great scene of action at times, and you will upon
      some occasions find as much business done here as there is on 'Change; the
      dealings however are not so fair, though the profits are larger; and if
      you observe the characters and the visages of the visitants, it will be
      found it is most frequently attended by Turf-Jews and Greeks.{1} Any man
      indeed who dabbles in horse-dealing, must, like a gamester, be either a
      rook or a pigeon; {2} for horse-dealing is a species of gambling, in which
      as many
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1  Turf-Jews and Greeks&mdash;Gamblers at races, trotting-
     matches, &amp;c.

     2 Rooks and Pigeons are frequenters of gaming-houses: the
     former signifying the successful adventurer, and the latter
     the unfortunate dupe.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[161]</span>depredations are committed upon the
      property of the unwary as in any other, and every one engaged in it thinks
      it a meritorious act to dupe his chapman. Even noblemen and gentlemen, who
      in other transactions of life are honest, will make no scruple of cheating
      you in horse-dealing: nor is this to be wondered at when we consider that
      the Lord and the Baronet take lessons from their grooms, jockeys, or
      coachmen, and the nearer approach they can make to the appearance and
      manners of their tutors, the fitter the pupils for turf-men, or gentlemen
      dealers; for the school in which they learn is of such a description that
      dereliction of principle is by no means surprising&mdash;fleecing each
      other is an every-day practice&mdash;every one looks upon his fellow as a
      bite, and young men of fashion learn how to buy and sell, from old whips,
      jockeys, or rum ostlers, whose practices have put them up to every thing,
      and by such ruffian preceptors are frequently taught to make three
      quarters or seventy-five per cent, profit, which is called turning an
      honest penny. This, though frequently practised at country fairs, &amp;c.
      by horse-jobbers, &amp;c. is here executed with all the dexterity and art
      imaginable: for instance, you have a distressed friend whom you know must
      sell; you commiserate his situation, and very kindly find all manner of
      faults with his horse, and buy it for half its value&mdash;you also know a
      Green-horn and an extravagant fellow, to whom you sell it for twice its
      value, and that is the neat thing. Again, if you have a horse you wish to
      dispose of, the same school will afford you instruction how to make the
      most of him, that is to say, to conceal his vices and defects, and by
      proper attention to put him into condition, to alter his whole appearance
      by hogging, cropping, and docking&mdash;by patching up his broken knees&mdash;blowing
      gun-powder in his dim eyes&mdash;bishoping, blistering, &amp;c. so as to
      turn him out in good twig, scarcely to be known by those who have
      frequently seen and noticed him: besides which, at the time of sale one of
      these gentry will aid and assist your views by pointing out his
      recommendations in some such observations as the following:
    </p>
    <p>
      'There's a horse truly good and well made.
    </p>
    <p>
      'There's the appearance of a fine woman! broad breast, round hips, and
      long neck.
    </p>
    <p>
      'There's the countenance, intrepidity, and fire of a lion.
    </p>
    <p>
      'There's the eye, joint, and nostril of an ox.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[162]</span>'There's the nose, gentleness, and
      patience of a lamb.
    </p>
    <p>
      'There's the strength, constancy, and foot of a mule.
    </p>
    <p>
      'There's the hair, head, and leg of a deer.
    </p>
    <p>
      'There's the throat, neck, and hearing of a wolf.
    </p>
    <p>
      'There's the ear, brush, and trot of a fox.
    </p>
    <p>
      'There's the memory, sight, and turning of a serpent.
    </p>
    <p>
      'There's the running, suppleness, and innocence of the hare.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And if a horse sold for sound wind, limb, and eyesight, with all the
      gentleness of a lamb, that a child might ride him with safety, should
      afterwards break the purchaser's neck, the seller has nothing to do with
      it, provided he has received the <i>bit</i>,{1} but laughs at the <i>do</i>.{2}
      Nay, they will sometimes sell a horse, warranted to go as steady as ever a
      horse went in harness, to a friend, assuring him at the same time that he
      has not a fault of any kind&mdash;that he is good as ever shoved a head
      through a horse-collar; and if he should afterwards rear up in the gig,
      and overturn the driver into a ditch, shatter the concern to pieces, spill
      Ma'am, and kill both her and the child of promise, the conscientious
      Horse-dealer has nothing to do with all this: How could he help it? he
      sold the horse for a good horse, and a good horse he was. This is all in
      the way of fair dealing. Again, if a horse is sold as sound, and he prove
      broken-winded, lame, or otherwise, not worth one fortieth part of the
      purchase-money, still it is only a piece of jockeyship&mdash;a fair
      manouvre, affording opportunities of merriment."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A very laudable sort of company," said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is rather a mixed one," replied Tom&mdash;"it is indeed a complete
      mixture of all conditions, ranks, and orders of society. But let us take a
      peep at some of them. Do you observe that stout fellow yonder, with a
      stick in his hand? he has been a <i>Daisy-kicker</i>, and, by his arts and
      contrivances having saved a little money, is now a regular dealer, and may
      generally be seen here on selling days."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Daisy-kicker," said Bob, "I don't comprehend the term."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then I will explain," was the reply. "Daisy-kickers are Ostlers belonging
      to large inns, who are known to each other by that title, and you may
      frequently hear them
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Bit&mdash;A cant term for money.

     2 Do&mdash;Any successful endeavour to over-reach another is by
     these gentlemen call'd a do, meaning&mdash;so and so has been
     done.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[163]</span>ask&mdash;When did you sell your
      Daisy-kicker or Grogham?&mdash;for these terms are made use of among
      themselves as cant for a horse. Do you also observe, he is now in close
      conversation with a person who he expects will become a purchaser."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And who is he?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "He is no other than a common informer, though in high life; keeps his
      carriage, horses, and servants&mdash;lives in the first style&mdash;he is
      shortly to be made a Consul of, and perhaps an Ambassador afterwards. The
      first is to all intents and purposes a Lord of Trade, and his Excellency
      nothing more than a titled spy, in the same way as a Bailiff is a follower
      of the law, and a man out of livery a Knight's companion or a Nobleman's
      gentleman."
    </p>
    <p>
      Their attention was at this moment attracted by the appearance of two
      persons dressed in the extreme of fashion, who, upon meeting just by them,
      caught eagerly hold of each other's hand, and they overheard the following&mdash;'Why,
      Bill, how am you, my hearty?&mdash;where have you been <i>trotting your
      galloper</i>?&mdash;what is you arter?&mdash;how's Harry and Ben?&mdash;haven't
      seen you this blue moon.'{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      'All tidy,' was the reply; 'Ben is getting better, and is going to sport a
      new curricle, which is now building for him in Long Acre, as soon as he is
      recovered.'
    </p>
    <p>
      'Why what the devil's the matter with him, eh?'
    </p>
    <p>
      'Nothing of any consequence, only he got mill'd a night or two ago about
      his blowen&mdash;he had one of his ribs broke, sprained his right wrist,
      and sports a <i>painted peeper</i>{2} upon the occasion, that's all.'
    </p>
    <p>
      'Why you know he's no <i>bad cock</i> at the Fancy, and won't put up with
      any gammon.'
    </p>
    <p>
      'No, but he was lushy, and so he got queer'd&mdash;But I say, have you
      sold your bay?'
    </p>
    <p>
      'No, d&mdash;&mdash;n me, I can't get my price.'
    </p>
    <p>
      'Why, what is it you axes?'{3}
    </p>
    <p>
      'Only a hundred and thirty&mdash;got by Agamemnon. Lord, it's no price at
      all&mdash;cheap as dirt&mdash;But I say, Bill,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Blue moon&mdash;This is usually intended to imply a long time.

     2 Painted peeper&mdash;A black eye.

     3 Axes&mdash;Among the swell lads, and those who affect the
     characters of knowing coveys, there is a common practice of
     endeavouring to coin new words and new modes of expression,
     evidently intended to be thought wit; and this affectation
     frequently has the effect of creating a laugh.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[164]</span>how do you come on with your grey, and
      the pie-bald poney?'
    </p>
    <p>
      'All right and regular, my boy; matched the poney for a light curricle,
      and I swapped{1} the grey for an entire horse&mdash;such a rum one&mdash;when
      will you come and take a peep at him?&mdash;all bone, fine shape and
      action, figure beyond compare&mdash;I made a rare good chop of it.'
    </p>
    <p>
      'I'm glad to hear it; I'll make a survey, and take a ride with you the
      first leisure day; but I'm full of business, no time to spare&mdash;I say,
      are, you a dealer?'
    </p>
    <p>
      'No, no, it won't do, I lost too much at the Derby&mdash;besides, I must
      go and drive my Girl out&mdash;<i>Avait, that's the time of day</i>,{2} my
      boys&mdash;so good by&mdash;But if you should be able to pick up a brace
      of clever pointers, a prime spaniel, or a greyhound to match Smut, I'm
      your man&mdash;buy for me, and all's right&mdash;price, you know, is out
      of the question, I must have them if they are to be got, so look out&mdash;bid
      and buy; but mind, nothing but prime will do for me&mdash;that's the time
      of day, you know, d&mdash;&mdash;n me&mdash;so good by&mdash;I'm off.' And
      away he went.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Some great sporting character, I suppose," said Bob&mdash;"plenty of
      money."
    </p>
    <p>
      "No such thing," said Tom, drawing him on one side&mdash;"you will hardly
      believe that Bill is nothing more than a Shopman to a Linen-draper,
      recently discharged for malpractices; and the other has been a Waiter at a
      Tavern, but is now out of place; and they are both upon the sharp look-out
      to <i>gammon the flats</i>. The former obtains his present livelihood by
      gambling&mdash;spends the most of his time in playing cards with <i>greenhorns</i>,
      always to be picked up at low flash houses, at fairs, races,
      milling-matches, &amp;c. and is also in the holy keeping of the cast-off
      mistress of a nobleman whose family he was formerly in as a <i>valet-de-chambre</i>.
      The other pretends to teach sparring in the City, and occasionally has a
      benefit in the Minories, Duke's Place, and the Fives Court."
    </p>
    <p>
      "They talk it well, however," said Bob.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Swapp'd&mdash;Exchanged.

     2  That's the time of day&mdash;That's your sort&mdash;that's the
     barber&mdash;keep moving&mdash;what am you arter&mdash;what am you up to&mdash;
     there never was such times&mdash;that's the Dandy&mdash;Go along Bob,
     &amp;c. are ex-pressions that are frequently made use of by the
     people of the Metropolis; and indeed fashion seems almost to
     have as much to do with our language as with our dress or
     manners.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[165]</span>"Words are but wind, many a proud word
      comes off a weak stomach," was the reply; "and you may almost expect not
      to hear a word of truth in this place, which may be termed The Sporting
      Repository&mdash;it is the grand mart for horses and for other fashionable
      animals&mdash;for expensive asses, and all sorts of sporting-dogs,
      town-puppies, and second-hand vehicles. Here bets are made for races and
      fights&mdash;matches are made up here&mdash;bargains are struck, and
      engagements entered into, with as much form, regularity, and importance,
      as the progress of parliamentary proceedings&mdash;points of doubt upon
      all occasions of jockeyship are decided here; and no man of fashion can be
      received into what is termed polished society, without a knowledge of this
      place and some of the visitors. The proceedings however are generally so
      managed, that the ostlers, the jockeys, the grooms, and the dealers, come
      best off, from a superiority of knowledge and presumed judgment&mdash;they
      have a method of patching up deep matches to <i>diddle the dupes</i>, and
      to introduce <i>throws over, doubles, double doubles</i>, to ease the
      heavy pockets of their burdens. The system of puffing is also as much in
      use here as among the Lottery-office Keepers, the Quack Doctors, or the
      Auctioneers; and the __Knowing ones, by an understanding amongst each
      other, sell their cattle almost for what they please, if it so happens
      they are not immediately in want of the <i>ready</i>,{1} which, by the
      way, is an article too frequently in request&mdash;and here honest poverty
      is often obliged to sell at any rate, while the rich black-leg takes care
      only to sell to a good advantage, making a point at the same time not only
      to make the most of his cattle, but also of his friend or acquaintance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Liberal and patriotic-minded men!" said Bob; "it is a noble Society, and
      well worthy of cultivation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is fashionable Society, at least," continued Tom, "and deserving of
      observation, for it is fraught with instruction."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I think so, indeed," was the reply; "but I really begin to suspect that I
      shall scarcely have confidence to venture out alone, for there does not
      appear to be any part of your wonderful Metropolis but what is infested
      with some kind of shark or other."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is but too true, and it is therefore the more necessary to make
      yourself acquainted with them; it is rather a long lesson, but really
      deserving of being learnt. You
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The ready&mdash;Money.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[166]</span>perceive what sort of company you are
      now in, as far as may be judged from their appearances; but they are not
      to be trusted, for I doubt not but you would form erroneous conclusions
      from such premises. The company that assembles here is generally composed
      of a great variety of characters&mdash;the Idler, the Swindler, the Dandy,
      the Exquisite, the full-pursed young Peer, the needy Sharper, the gaudy
      Pauper, and the aspiring School-boy, anxious to be thought a dealer and a
      judge of the article before him&mdash;looking at a horse with an air of
      importance and assumed intelligence, bidding with a trembling voice and
      palpitating heart, lest it should be knock'd down to him. Do you see that
      dashing fellow nearly opposite to us, in the green frock-coat, top-boots,
      and spurs?&mdash;do you mark how he nourishes his whip, and how familiar
      he seems to be with the knowing old covey in brown?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes; I suppose he is a dealer."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are right, he is a dealer, but it is in man's flesh, not horse flesh:
      he is a <i>Bum trap</i>{1} in search of some friend
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Bum trap&mdash;A term pretty generally in use to denominate a
     Bailiff or his follower&mdash;they are also called Body-
     snatchers. The ways and means made use of by these gentry to
     make their captions are innumerable: they visit all places,
     assume all characters, and try all stratagems, to secure
     their friends, in order that they may have an opportunity of
     obliging them, which they have a happy facility in doing,
     provided the party can <i>bleed free</i>.* Among others, the
     following are curious facts:

     A Gentleman, who laboured under some peculiar difficulties,
     found it desirable for the sake of his health to retire into
     the country, where he secluded himself pretty closely from
     the vigilant anxieties of his friends, who were in search of
     him and had made several fruitless attempts to obtain an
     interview. The Traps having ascertained the place of his
     retreat, from which it appeared that nothing but stratagem
     could draw him, a knowing old snatch determined to effect
     his purpose, and succeeded in the following manner:

     One day as the Gentleman came to his window, he discovered a
     man, seemingly in great agitation, passing and re-passing;
     at length, however, he stopped suddenly, and with a great
     deal of attention fixed his eyes upon a tree which stood
     nearly opposite to the window. In a few minutes he returned
     to it, pulled out a book, in which he read for a few
     minutes, and then drew forth a rope from his pocket, with
     which he suspended himself from the tree. The Gentleman,
     eager to save the life of a fellow-creature, ran out and cut
     him down. This was scarcely accomplished, before he found
     the man whom he had rescued (as he thought) from death,
     slapp'd him on the shoulder, informed him that he was his
     prisoner, and in return robbed him of his liberty!

     Another of these gentry assumed the character of a poor
     cripple, and stationed himself as a beggar, sweeping the
     crossing near the habitation of his shy cock, who,
     conceiving himself safe after three days voluntary
     imprisonment, was seized by the supposed Beggar, who threw
     away his broom to secure his man.

     Yet, notwithstanding the many artifices to which this
     profession is obliged to conform itself, it must be
     acknowledged there are many of them who have hearts that
     would do honour to more exalted situations; especially when
     we reflect, that in general, whatever illiberality or
     invective may be cast upon them, they rarely if at all
     oppress those who are in their custody, and that they
     frequently endeavour to compromise for the Debtor, or at
     least recommend the Creditor to accept of those terms which
     can be complied with.

          * Bleed free&mdash;
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[167]</span>or other, with a writ in his pocket.
      These fellows have some protean qualities about them, and, as occasion
      requires, assume all shapes for the purpose of taking care of their
      customers; they are however a sort of necessary evil. The old one in brown
      is a well-known dealer, a deep old file, and knows every one around him&mdash;he
      is up to the sharps, down upon the flats, and not to be done. But in
      looking round you may perceive men booted and spurred, who perhaps never
      crossed a horse, and some with whips in their hands who deserve it on
      their backs&mdash;they hum lively airs, whistle and strut about with their
      quizzing-glasses in their hands, playing a tattoo upon their boots, and
      shewing themselves off with as many airs as if they were real actors
      engaged in the farce, that is to say, the buyers and sellers; when in
      truth they are nothing but loungers in search of employment, who may
      perhaps have to count the trees in the Park for a dinner without
      satisfying the cravings of nature, dining as it is termed with Duke
      Humphrey&mdash;others, perhaps, who have arrived in safety, are almost
      afraid to venture into the streets again, lest they should encounter those
      foes to liberty, John Doe and Richard Roe."
    </p>
    <p>
      'If I do, may I be&mdash;&mdash;' The remainder of the sentence was lost,
      by the speaker removing in conversation with another, when Tom turn'd
      round.
    </p>
    <p>
      "O," said Tom, "I thought I knew who it was&mdash;that is one of the
      greatest reprobates in conversation that I ever met with."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And who is he?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, I'll give you a brief sketch of him," continued Dashall: "It is
      said, and I fancy pretty well known, <span class="pagenum">[168]</span>that
      he has retired upon a small property, how acquired or accumulated I cannot
      say; but he has married a Bar-maid of very beautiful features and elegant
      form: having been brought up to the bar, she is not unaccustomed to
      confinement; but he has made her an absolute prisoner, for he shuts her up
      as closely as if she were in a monastery&mdash;he never dines at home, and
      she is left in complete solitude. He thinks his game all safe, but she has
      sometimes escaped the vigilance of her gaoler, and has been seen at places
      distant from home.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 It is related of this gentleman, whose severity and
     vigilance were so harshly spoken of, that one day at table,
     a dashing young Military Officer, who, while he was
     circulating the bottle, was boasting among his dissipated
     friends of his dexterity in conducting the wars of Venus,
     that he had a short time back met one of the most lovely
     creatures he ever saw, in the King's Road; but he had
     learned that her husband so strictly confined and watched
     her, that there was no possibility of his being admitted to
     her at any hour.

     "Behave handsome, and I'll put you in possession of a gun
     that shall bring the game down in spite of locks, bolts and
     bars, or even the vigilance of the eyes of Argus himself."

     "How? d&mdash;&mdash;me if I don't stand a ten pound note."

     "How! why easy enough; I've a plan that cannot but succeed&mdash;
     down with the cash, and I'll put you up to the scheme."

     No sooner said than done, and he pocketed the ten pound
     note.

     "Now," said the hoary old sinner, little suspecting that he
     was to be the dupe of his own artifice: "You get the husband
     invited out to dinner, have him well ply'd with wine by your
     friends: You assume the dress of a Postman&mdash;give a
     thundering rap at her door, which always denotes either the
     arrival of some important visitor or official communication;
     and when you can see her, flatter, lie, and swear that her
     company is necessary to your existence&mdash;that life is a
     burden without her&mdash;tell her, you know her husband is
     engaged, and can't come&mdash;that he is dining out with some
     jolly lads, and can't possibly be home for some hours&mdash;fall
     at her feet, and say that, having obtained the interview,
     you will not leave her. Your friends in the mean time must
     be engaged in making him as drunk as a piper. That's the way
     to do it, and if you execute it as well as it is plann'd,
     the day's your own."

     "Bravo, bravo!" echoed from every one present.

     It was a high thing&mdash;the breach thus made, the horn-work was
     soon to be carried, and there could be no doubt of a safe
     lodgement in the covert-way.

     The gay Militaire met his inamorata shortly afterwards in
     Chelsea-fields, and after obtaining from her sundry
     particulars of inquiry, as to the name of her husband, &amp;c.
     he acquainted her with his plan. The preliminaries were
     agreed upon, and it was deter-mined that the maid-servant,
     who was stationed as a spy upon her at all times, should be
     dispatched to some house in the neighbour-hood to procure
     change, while the man of letters was to be let in and
     concealed; and upon her return it was to be stated that the
     Postman was in a hurry, could not wait, and was to call
     again. This done, he was to make his escape by a rope-ladder
     from the window as soon as the old one should be heard upon
     the stairs, which it of course was presumed would be at a
     late hour, when he was drunk.

     The train having been thus laid, Old Vigilance dined out,
     and expected to meet the Colonel; but being disappointed,
     and suspicious at all times, for

          "Suspicion ever haunts the guilty mind,"

     The utmost endeavours of the party to make him drunk proved
     ineffectual; he was restless and uncomfortable, and he could
     not help fancying by the visible efforts to do him up, that
     some mischief was brewing, or some hoax was about to be
     played off. He had his master-key in his pocket, and retired
     early.

     His Lady, whose plan had succeeded admirably at home, was
     fearful of having the door bolted till after twelve, lest
     the servant's suspicions should be aroused. In the mean
     time, the son of Mars considered all safe, and entertained
     no expectation of the old Gentleman's return till a very
     late hour. When lo and behold, to the great surprise and
     annoyance of the lovers, he gently opened the street door,
     and fearful of awaking his faithful charmer out of her first
     slumber, he ascended the stairs unshod. His phosphoric
     matches shortly threw a light upon the subject, and he
     entered the apartment; when, what was the surprise and
     astonishment of the whole party at the discovery of their
     situation!

     The old Gentleman swore, stormed, and bullied, declaring he
     would have satisfaction! that he would commence a civil
     suit! The Military Hero told him it would be too civil by
     half, and was in fact more than he expected;&mdash;reminded him
     of the ten pounds he had received as agency for promoting
     his amours;&mdash;informed him he had performed the character
     recommended by him most admirably. The old man was almost
     choked with rage; but perceiving he had spread a snare for
     himself, was compelled to hear and forbear, while the lover
     bolted, wishing him a good night, and singing, "Locks,
     bolts, and bars, I defy you," as an admirable lesson in
     return for the blustering manner in which he had received
     information of the success of his own scheme.
</pre>
    <p>
      "Mr. C&mdash;&mdash; on the opposite side is a Money-procurer or lender, a
      very accommodating sort of person, who négociâtes meetings and engagements
      between young borrowers, who care not what they pay for money, and old
      lenders, who care not who suffers, so they can obtain enormous interest
      for their loans. He is a venerable looking man, and is known to most of
      the young Bloods who visit here. His father was a German Cook in a certain
      kitchen. He set up for a Gentleman at his father's death, and was taken
      particular notice of by Lord G&mdash;&mdash;, <span class="pagenum">[170]</span>and
      indeed by all the turf. He lived a gay and fashionable life, soon run out
      his fortune, and is now pensioned by a female whom he formerly supported.
      He is an excellent judge of a horse and horse-racing, upon which subjects
      his advice is frequently given. He is a very useful person among the
      generality of gentry who frequent this place of public resort. At the same
      time it ought to be observed, that among the various characters which
      infest and injure society, perhaps there are few more practised in guilt,
      fraud, and deceit, than the Money-lenders.
    </p>
    <p>
      "They advertise to procure large sums of money to assist those under
      pecuniary embarrassment. They generally reside in obscure situations, and
      are to be found by anonymous signatures, such as A. B. I. R. D. V. &amp;c.
      They chiefly prey upon young men of property, who have lost their money at
      play, horse-racing, betting, &amp;c. or other expensive amusements, and
      are obliged to raise more upon any terms until their rents or incomes
      become payable: or such as have fortunes in prospect, as being heirs
      apparent to estates, but who require assistance in the mean time.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These men avail themselves of the credit, or the ultimate responsibility
      of the giddy and thoughtless young spendthrift in his eager pursuit of
      criminal pleasures, and under the influence of those allurements, which
      the various places of fashionable resort hold out; and seldom fail to
      obtain from them securities and obligations for large sums; upon the
      credit of which they are enabled, perhaps at usurious interest, to borrow
      money or discount bills, and thus supply their unfortunate customers upon
      the most extravagant terms.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There are others, who having some capital, advance money upon bonds,
      title-deeds, and other specialties, or tipon the bond of the parties
      having property in reversion. By these and other devices, large sums of
      money are most unwarrantably and illegally wrested from the dissipated and
      the thoughtless; and misery and distress are perhaps entailed upon them as
      long as they live, or they are driven by the prospect of utter ruin to
      acts of desperation or the commission of crimes.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It generally happens upon application to the advertising party, that he,
      like Moses in <i>The School for Scandal</i>, is not really in possession
      of any money himself, but then he knows where and how to procure it from a
      very <span class="pagenum">[171]</span>unconscionable dog, who may,
      perhaps, not be satisfied with the security ottered; yet, if you have
      Bills at any reasonable date, he could get them discounted. If you should
      suffer yourself to be trick'd out of any Bills, he will contrive, in some
      way or other, to negotiate them&mdash;not, as he professes, for you, but
      for himself and his colleagues; and, very likely, after you have been at
      the additional expense of commencing a suit at law against them, they have
      disappeared, and are in the King's Bench or the Fleet, waiting there to
      defraud you of every hope and expectation, by obtaining their liberty
      through the White-washing Act.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These gentry are for the most part Attorneys or Pettifoggers, or closely
      connected with such; and notwithstanding all legal provisions to preclude
      them from exacting large sums, either for their agency and introduction,
      or for the bonds which they draw, yet they contrive to bring themselves
      home, and escape detection, by some such means as the following:
    </p>
    <p>
      "They pretend that it is necessary to have a deed drawn up to explain the
      uses of the Annuity-bond, which the grantor of the money, who is some
      usurious villain, immediately acknowledges and accedes to; for
    </p>
    <p>
      "The bond that signs the mortgage pays the shot; so that an Act which is
      fraught with the best purposes for the protection of the honest, but
      unfortunate, is in this manner subjected to the grossest chicanery of
      pettifoggers and pretenders, and the vilest evasions of quirking low
      villains of the law.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is also another species of money-lender, not inaptly termed the
      Female Banker. These accommodate Barrow-women and others, who sell fruit,
      vegetables, &amp;c. in the public streets, with five shillings a day (the
      usual diurnal stock in such cases;) for the use of which for twelve hours
      they obtain the moderate premium of sixpence when the money is returned in
      the evening, receiving at this rate about seven pounds ten shillings per
      year for every five pounds they can so employ. It is however very
      difficult to convince the borrowers of the correctness of this
      calculation, and of the serious loss to which they subject themselves by a
      continuation of the system, since it is evident that this improvident and
      dissolute class of people have no other idea than that of making the day
      and the way alike long. Their profits <span class="pagenum">[172]</span>(often
      considerably augmented by dealing in base money as well as the articles
      which they sell) seldom last over the day; for they never fail to have a
      luxurious dinner and a hot supper, with a plentiful supply of gin and
      porter: looking in general no farther than to keep the whole original
      stock with the sixpence interest, which is paid over to the female Banker
      in the evening, and a new loan obtained on the following morning to go to
      market, and to be disposed of in the same way.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In contemplating this curious system of banking, or money lending
      (trifling as it may appear,) it is almost impossible not to be forcibly
      struck with the immense profits that are derived from it. It is only
      necessary for one of these sharpers to possess a capital of seventy
      shillings, or three pounds ten shillings, with fourteen steady and regular
      customers, in order to realize an income of one hundred guineas per year!
      So true it is, that one half of the world do not know how the other half
      live; for there are thousands who cannot have the least conception of the
      existence of such facts.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here comes a <i>Buck of the first cut</i>, one who pretends to know every
      thing and every body, but thinks of nobody but himself, and of that self
      in reality knows nothing.
    </p>
    <p>
      Captain P&mdash;&mdash;is acknowledged by all his acquaintance to be one
      of the best fellows in the world, and to beat every one at slang, but U&mdash;&mdash;y
      and A&mdash;&mdash;se. He is the terror of the Charleys, and of the poor
      unfortunate roofless nightly wanderers in the streets. You perceive his
      long white hair, and by no means engaging features. Yet he has vanity
      enough to think himself handsome, and that he is taken notice of on that
      account; when the attractions he presents are really such as excite wonder
      and surprise, mingled with disgust; yet he contemplates his figure in the
      looking-glass with self satisfaction, and asks the frail ones, with a
      tremulous voice, if, so help them&mdash;&mdash;he is not a good-looking
      fellow 1 and they, knowing their customer, of course do not fail to reply
      in the affirmative.
    </p>
    <p>
      "He is a well known leg, and is no doubt present on this occasion to bet
      upon the ensuing Epsom races; by the bye his losses have been very
      considerable in that way. He has also at all times been a dupe to the sex.
      It is said that Susan B&mdash;&mdash;, a dashing Cyprian, eased his purse
      of a £500 bill, and whilst he was dancing in pursuit of her, she was
      dancing to the tune of a Fife; a clear proof she <span class="pagenum">[173]</span>had
      an ear for music as well as an eye to business. But I believe it was
      played in a different Key to what he expected; whether it was a minor Key
      or not I cannot exactly say.
    </p>
    <p>
      "At a ball or assembly he conceives himself quite at home, satisfied that
      he is the admiration of the whole of the company present; and were he to
      give an account of himself, it would most likely be in substance nearly as
      follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      "When I enter the room, what a whisp'ring is heard; My rivals, astonish'd,
      scarce utter a word; "How charming! (cry all; ) how enchanting a fellow!
      How neat are those small-clothes, how killingly yellow. Not for worlds
      would I honour these plebs with a smile, Tho' bursting with pride and
      delight all the while; So I turn to my cronies (a much honour'd few,);
      Crying, "S&mdash;z&mdash;m, how goes it?&mdash;Ah, Duchess, how do? Ton my
      life, yonder's B&mdash;uf, and Br&mdash;ke, and A&mdash;g&mdash;le, S-ff&mdash;d,
      W&mdash;tm&mdash;1&mdash;d, L&mdash;n, and old codger C&mdash;ri&mdash;le."
      Now tho', from this style of address, it appears That these folks I have
      known for at least fifty years, The fact is, my friends, that I scarcely
      know one, A mere "façon de parler," the way of the ton. What tho' they
      dislike it, I answer my ends, Country gentlemen stare, and suppose them my
      friends.
    </p>
    <p>
      But my beautiful taste (as indeed you will guess) Is manifest most in my
      toilet and dress; My neckcloth of course forms my principal care, For by
      that we criterions of elegance swear, And costs me each morning some hours
      of flurry, To make it appear to be tied in a hurry. My boot-tops, those
      unerring marks of a blade, With Champagne are polish'd, and peach
      marmalade; And a violet coat, closely copied from B&mdash;ng, With a
      cluster of seals, and a large diamond ring; And troisièmes of buckskin,
      bewitchingly large, Give the finishing stroke to the "<i>parfait ouvrage</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      During this animated description of the gay personage alluded to, Bob had
      listened with the most undeviating attention, keeping his eye all the time
      on this extravagant piece of elegance and fashion, but could not help
      bursting into an immoderate fit of laughter at its conclusion. In the mean
      time the crowd of visitors had continued to increase; all appeared to be
      bustle and confusion; small parties were seen in groups communicating
      together in different places, and every face appeared to be animated by
      hopes or fears. Dashall was exchanging familiar <span class="pagenum">[174]</span>nods
      and winks with those whom lie knew; but as their object was not to buy,
      they paid but little attention to the sales of the day, rather contenting
      themselves with a view of the human cattle by which they were surrounded,
      when they were pleasingly surprised to observe their friend Sparkle enter,
      booted and spurred.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Just the thing! (said Sparkle,) I had some suspicion of finding you here.
      Are you buyers? Does your Cousin want a horse, an ass, or a filly?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom smiled; "Always upon the ramble, eh, Sparkle. Why ask such questions?
      You know we are well horsed; but I suppose if the truth was known, you are
      <i>prad</i> sellers; if so, shew your article, and name your price."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Apropos," said Sparkle; "Here is a friend of mine, to whom I must
      introduce you, so say no more about articles and prices&mdash;I have an
      article in view above all price&mdash;excuse me." And with this he made
      his way among the tribe of Jockeys, Sharpers, and Blacklegs, and in a
      minute returned, bringing with him a well-dressed young man, whose manners
      and appearance indicated the Gentleman, and whose company was considered
      by Tom and his Cousin as a valuable acquisition.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mr. Richard Mortimer," said Sparkle, as he introduced his friend&mdash;"the
      Hon. Mr. Dashall, and Mr. Robert Tallyho."
    </p>
    <p>
      After the mutual interchanges of politeness which naturally succeeded this
      introduction&mdash;"Come," said Sparkle, "we are horsed, and our nags
      waiting&mdash;we are for a ride, which way do you bend your course?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "A lucky meeting," replied Tom; "for we are upon the same scent; I expect
      my curricle at Hyde-Park Corner in ten minutes, and have no particular
      line of destination."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Good," said Sparkle; "then we may hope to have your company; and how
      disposed for the evening?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Even as chance may direct."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Good, again&mdash;all right&mdash;then as you are neither buyers nor
      sellers, let us employ the remaining ten minutes in looking around us&mdash;there
      is nothing to attract here&mdash;Epsom Races are all the talk, and all of
      business that is doing&mdash;come along, let us walk through the Park&mdash;let
      the horses meet us at Kensington Gate, and then for a twist among the
      briers and brambles."
    </p>
    <p>
      This was readily agreed to: orders were given to the servants, and the
      party proceeded towards the Park.<span class="pagenum">[175]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     What is Bon Ton?   Oh d&mdash;&mdash; me (cries a Buck,
     Half drunk, ) ask me, my dear, and you're in luck:
     Bon Ton's to swear, break windows, beat the Watch,
     Pick up a wench, drink healths, and roar a catch.
     Keep it up, keep it up!   d&mdash;&mdash; me, take your swing&mdash;
     Bon Ton is Life, my boy! Bon Ton's the thing!
     "Ah, I loves Life and all the joys it yields&mdash;
     (Says Madam Fussock. warm from Spitalfields; )
     Bon Ton's the space 'twixt Saturday and Monday,
     And riding out in one-horse shay o' Sunday;
     'Tis drinking tea on summer afternoons
     At Bagnigge Wells, with china and gilt spoons;
     'Tis laying by our stuffs, red cloaks and pattens,
     To dance cowtillions all in silks and satins."
     "Vulgar! (cries Miss) observe in higher Life
     The feather'd spinster and three feather'd wife;
     The Club's Bon Ton&mdash;Bon Ton's a constant trade
     Of rout, festino, ball and masquerade;
     'Tis plays and puppet shows&mdash;'tis something new&mdash;
     'Tis losing thousands every night at loo;
     Nature it thwarts, and contradicts all reason;
     'Tis stiff French stays, and fruit when out of season,
     A rose, when half a guinea is the price;
     A set of bays scarce bigger than six mice;
     To visit friends you never wish to see&mdash;
     Marriage 'twixt those who never can agree;
     Old dowagers, dress'd, painted, patch'd and curl'd&mdash;
     This is Bon Ton, and this we call the World!
</pre>
    <p>
      AS they passed through the gate, Tom observed it was rather too early to
      expect much company. "Never mind," said Sparkle, "we are company enough
      among ourselves; the morning is fine, the curricle not arrived, and we
      shall find plenty of conversation, if we do not discover interesting
      character, to diversify our promenade. Travelling spoils conversation,
      unless you are squeezed like an Egyptian mummy into a stage or a
      mail-coach; and perhaps in that case you may meet with animals who have
      voices, without possessing the power of intellect to direct them to any
      useful or agreeable purpose."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[176]</span>Tallyho, who was at all times delighted
      with Sparkle's descriptions of society and manners, appeared pleased with
      the proposition.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your absence from town," continued Sparkle, addressing himself to
      Dashall, "has prevented my introduction of Mr. Mortimer before, though you
      have heard me mention his Sister. They are now inhabitants of our own
      sphere of action, and I trust we shall all become better known to each
      other."
    </p>
    <p>
      This piece of information appeared to be truly acceptable to all parties.
      Young Mortimer was a good-looking and well made young man; his features
      were animated and intelligent; his manners polished, though not quite so
      unrestrained as those which are to be acquired by an acquaintance with
      metropolitan associations.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am happy," said he, "to be introduced to any friends of your's, and
      shall be proud to number them among mine."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You may," replied Sparkle, "with great safety place them on your list;
      though you know I have already made it appear to you that friendship is a
      term more generally made use of than understood in London&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "For what is Friendship but a name,
          A charm which lulls to sleep,
          A shade that follows wealth and fame,
          And leaves the wretch to weep?

          And Love is still an emptier sound,
          The modern fair one's jest;
          On earth unseen, or only found
          To warm the turtle's nest."
</pre>
    <p>
      "These sentiments are excellently expressed," said Tom, pinching him by
      the arm&mdash;"and I suppose in perfect consonance with your own?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle felt 'the rebuke, look'd down, and seem'd confused; but in a
      moment recovering himself,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not exactly so," replied he; "but then you know, and I don't mind
      confessing it among friends, though you are aware it is very unfashionable
      to acknowledge the existence of any thing of the kind, I am a pupil of
      nature."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You seem to be in a serious humour all at once," said young Mortimer.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[177]</span>"Can't help it," continued Sparkle&mdash;"for,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Let them all say what they will,
          Nature will be nature still."
</pre>
    <p>
      "And that usurper, or I should rather say, would be usurper, Fashion, is
      in no way in alliance with our natures. I remember the old Duchess of
      Marlborough used to say 'That to love some persons very much, and to see
      often those we love, is the greatest happiness I can enjoy;' but it
      appears almost impossible for any person in London to secure such an
      enjoyment, and I can't help feeling it."
    </p>
    <p>
      By the look and manner with which this last sentiment was uttered, Tom
      plainly discovered there was a something labouring at his heart which
      prompted it. "Moralizing!" said he. "Ah, Charley, you are a happy fellow.
      I never yet knew one who could so rapidly change '<i>from grave to gay,
      from lively to severe</i>; and for the benefit of our friends, I can't
      help thinking you could further elucidate the very subject you have so
      feelingly introduced."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are a quiz" said Sparkle; "but there is one thing to be said, I know
      you, and have no great objection to your hits now and then, provided they
      are not knock down blows."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But," said Mortimer, "what has this to do with friendship and love? I
      thought you were going to give something like a London definition of the
      terms."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why," said Sparkle, "in London it is equally difficult to get to love any
      body very much, or often to meet those that we love. There are such
      numbers of acquaintances, such a constant succession of engagements of one
      sort or other, such a round of delights, that the town resembles Vauxhall,
      where the nearest and dearest friends may walk round and round all night
      without once meeting: for instance, at dinner you should see a person
      whose manners and conversation are agreeable and pleasing to you; you may
      wish in vain to become more intimate, for the chance is, that you will not
      meet so as to converse a second time for many months; for no one can tell
      when the dice-box of society may turn up the same numbers again. I do not
      mean to infer that you may not barely see the same features again; it is
      possible that you may catch a glimpse of them on the opposite side of Pall
      <span class="pagenum">[178]</span>Mall or Bond-street, or see them near to
      you at a crowded rout, without a possibility of approaching.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is from this cause, that those who live in London are so totally
      indifferent to each other; the waves follow so quick, that every vacancy
      is immediately filled up, and the want is not perceived. The well-bred
      civility of modern times, and the example of some 'very popular people,'
      it is true, have introduced a shaking of hands, a pretended warmth, a
      dissembled cordiality, into the manners of the cold and warm, alike the
      dear friend and the acquaintance of yesterday. Consequently we continually
      hear such conversation as the following:&mdash;' Ah, how d'ye do? I'm
      delighted to see you! How is Mrs. M&mdash;&mdash;?'
    </p>
    <p>
      'She's very well, thank you.' 'Has she any increase in family?' 'Any
      increase! why I've only been married three months. I see you are talking
      of my former wife: bless you, she has been dead these three years.'&mdash;Or,
      'Ah, my dear friend, how d'ye do? You have been out of town some time;
      where have you been? In Norfolk?' 'No, I have been two years in India.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      This description of a friendly salutation appeared to interest and amuse
      both Talltho and Mortimer. Tom laughed, shrugg'd up his shoulders,
      acknowledged the picture was too true, and Sparkle continued.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And thus it is, that, ignorant of one another's interests and
      occupations, the generality of friendships of London contain nothing more
      tender than a visiting card: nor are they much better, indeed they are
      much worse, if you renounce the world, and determine to live only with
      your relations and nearest connexions; for if you go to see them at one
      o'clock, they are not stirring; at two, the room is full of different
      acquaintances, who talk over the occurrences of the last night's ball,
      and, of course, are paid more attention to than yourself; at three, they
      are out shopping; at four, they are in this place dashing among the Pinks,
      from which they do not return till seven, then they are dressing; at
      eight, they are dining with two dozen friends; at nine and ten the same;
      at eleven, they are dressing for the ball; and at twelve, when you are
      retiring to rest, they are gone into society for the evening: so that you
      are left in solitude; you soon begin again to try the world&mdash;and we
      will endeavour to discover what it produces.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The first inconvenience of a London Life is the late <span class="pagenum">[179]</span>hour
      of a fashionable dinner. To pass the day in fasting, and then sit down to
      a great dinner at eight o'clock, is entirely against the first dictates of
      common sense and common stomachs. But what is to be done? he who rails
      against the fashion of the times will be considered a most unfashionable
      dog, and perhaps I have already said more than sufficient to entitle me to
      that appellation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Don't turn <i>King's Evidence</i> against yourself," said Tom; "for, if
      you plead guilty in this happy country, you must be tried by your Peers."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay," said Mortimer, "while fashion and reason appear to be in such
      direct opposition to each other, I must confess their merits deserve to be
      impartially tried; though I cannot, for one moment, doubt but the latter
      must ultimately prevail with the generality, however her dictates may be
      disregarded by the votaries of the former."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are a good one at a ramble" said Tom, "and not a bad one in a spree,
      but I cannot help thinking you are rambling out of your road; you seem to
      have lost the thread of your subject, and, having been disappointed with
      love and friendship, you are just going to sit down to dinner."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pardon me," replied Sparkle, "I was proceeding naturally, and not
      fashionably, to my subject; but I know you are so great an admirer of the
      latter, that you care but little about the former."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hit for hit," said Tom; "but go on&mdash;you are certainly growing old,
      Sparkle; at all events, you appear very grave this morning, and if you
      continue in this humour long, I shall expect you are about taking Orders."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is a time for all things, but the time for that has not yet
      arrived."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, then, proceed without sermonizing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I don't like to be interrupted," replied Sparkle; "and there is yet much
      to be said on the subject. I find there are many difficulties to encounter
      in contending with the fashionable customs. Some learned persons have
      endeavoured to support the practice of late dinners by precedent, and
      quoted the Roman supper; but it ought to be recollected that those suppers
      were at three o'clock in the afternoon, and should be a subject of
      contempt, instead of imitation, in Grosvenor Square. Women, <span
      class="pagenum">[180]</span>however, are not quite so irrational as men,
      in London, for they generally sit down to a substantial lunch about three
      or four; if men would do the same, the meal at eight might be relieved of
      many of its weighty dishes, and conversation would be a gainer by it; for
      it must be allowed on all hands, that conversation suffers great
      interruption from the manner in which fashionable dinners are managed.
      First, the host and hostess (or her unfortunate coadjutor) are employed
      during three parts of the dinner in doing the work of servants, helping
      fish, or carving venison to twenty hungry guests, to the total loss of the
      host's powers of amusement, and the entire disfigurement of the fair
      hostess's face. Again, much time is lost by the attention every one is
      obliged to pay, in order to find out (which, by the way, he cannot do if
      he is short-sighted) what dishes are at the extreme end of the table; and
      if a guest is desirous of a glass of wine, he must peep through the
      Apollos and Cupids of the plateau, in order to find some one to take it
      with; otherwise he is compelled to wait till some one asks him, which will
      probably happen in succession; so that after having had no wine for half
      an hour, he will have to swallow five glasses in five minutes. Convenience
      teaches, that the best manner of enjoying society at dinner, is to leave
      every thing to the servants that servants can do; so that no farther
      trouble may be experienced than to accept the dishes that are presented,
      and to drink at your own time the wines which are handed round. A
      fashionable dinner, on the contrary, seems to presume beforehand on the
      silence, dulness, and insipidity of the guests, and to have provided
      little interruptions, like the jerks which the Chaplain gives to the
      Archbishop to prevent his going to sleep during a sermon."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Accurate descriptions, as usual," said Tom, "and highly amusing."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho and Mortimer were intent upon hearing the remainder of Sparkle's
      account, though they occasionally joined in the laugh, and observed that
      Sparkle seemed to be in a very sentimental mood. As they continued to walk
      on, he resumed&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well then, some time after dinner comes the hour for the ball, or rout;
      but this is sooner said than done: it often requires as much time to go
      from St. James's Square to Cleveland Row, as to go from London to
      Hounslow.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[181]</span>It would require volumes to describe the
      disappointment which occurs on arriving in the brilliant mob of a
      ball-room. Sometimes, as it has been before said, a friend is seen
      squeezed like yourself, at the other end of the room, without a
      possibility of your communicating, except by signs; and as the whole
      arrangement of the society is regulated by mechanical pressure, you may
      happen to be pushed against those to whom you do not wish to speak,
      whether bores, slight acquaintances, or determined enemies. Confined by
      the crowd, stifled by the heat, dazzled by the light, all powers of
      intellect are obscured; wit loses its point, and sagacity its observation;
      indeed, the limbs are so crushed, and the tongue so parched, that, except
      particularly undressed ladies, all are in the case of the traveller, Mr.
      Clarke, when he says, that in the plains of Syria some might blame him for
      not making moral reflections on the state of the country; but that he must
      own that the heat quite deprived him of all power of thought. Hence it is,
      that the conversation you hear around you is generally nothing more than&mdash;"Have
      you been here long?&mdash;Have you been at Mrs. H&mdash;&mdash;'s?&mdash;Are
      you going to Lady D&mdash;&mdash;'s?"&mdash;Hence too,
    </p>
    <p>
      Madam de Staël said very justly to an Englishman, "Dans vos routes le
      corps fait plus de frai que l'esprit." But even if there are persons of a
      constitution robust enough to talk, they dare not do so, when twenty heads
      are forced into the compass of one square foot; nay, even if, to your
      great delight, you see a person to whom you have much to say, and by fair
      means or foul, elbows and toes, knees and shoulders, have got near him, he
      often dismisses you with shaking you by the hand, and saying&mdash;My dear
      Mr.&mdash;&mdash; how do you do? and then continues a conversation with a
      person whose ear is three inches nearer. At one o'clock, however, the
      crowd diminishes; and if you are not tired by the five or six hours of
      playing at company, which you have already had, you may be very
      comfortable for the rest of the evening. This however is the round of
      fashionable company. But I begin to be tired even of the description."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A very luminous and comprehensive view of fashionable society however,"
      said Tom, "sketched by a natural hand in glowing colours, though not
      exactly in the usual style. I shall not venture to assert whether the
      subjects are well chosen, but the figures are well grouped, and <span
      class="pagenum">[182]</span>display considerable ability and lively
      imagination in the painter, though a little confused."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It appears to be a study from nature," said Mortimer.
    </p>
    <p>
      "At least," continued Sparkle, "it is a study from Real Life, and
      delineates the London manners; for although I have been a mingler in the
      gaieties and varieties of a London Life, I have always held the same
      opinions with respect to the propriety of the manners and customs adopted,
      and have endeavoured to read as I ran; and it cannot be denied, that, in
      the eye of fashion, nothing can be more amiable than to deviate, or at
      least to affect a deviation, from nature, for to speak or act according to
      her dictates, would be considered vulgar and common-place in the last
      degree; to hear a story and not express an emotion you do not feel,
      perfectly rude and unmannerly, and among the ladies particularly. To move
      and think as the heart feels inclined, are offences against politeness
      that no person can ever in honour or delicacy forgive."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come, come," said Tom, "don't you be so hard on the blessings of Life&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "For who, that knows the thrilling touch
          Which Woman's love can give,
          Would wish to live for aught so much,
          As bid those beauties live?

          For what is life, which all so prize,
          And all who live approve,
          Without the fire of Woman's eyes,
          To bid man live and love?"
</pre>
    <p>
      Sparkle affected to laugh, appeared confused, and look'd down for a few
      moments, and they walk'd on in silence.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I perceive," said Tom, "how the matter stands&mdash;well, I shall not be
      a tormentor&mdash;but remember I expect an introduction to the fair
      enslaver. I thought you 'defy'd the mighty conqueror of hearts,' and
      resolved to be free."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Resolutions, as well as promises, are easily made," said Sparkle, "but
      not always so easily accomplished or performed&mdash;nor are you always
      accurate in your conceptions of circumstances; but no matter, your voyages
      are always made in search of discoveries, and, in spite of your
      resolutions, <span class="pagenum">[183]</span>you may perchance be
      entrapp'd. But no more of this; I perceive your raillery is directed to
      me, and I hope you enjoy it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Faith," replied Tom, "you know I always enjoy your company, but I don't
      recollect to have found you in so prosing a humour before&mdash;Pray,
      which way are you directing your coursel?"
    </p>
    <p>
      During the latter part of this conversation, Bob and young Mortimer were
      employed in admiring the fine piece of water which presented itself to
      their notice in the Serpentine River.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Merely for a ride," was the reply; "any way you please, to pass away the
      time."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mighty cavalier, truly," said Tom; "but come, here we are at Kensington,
      let us mount, and away."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Remember, I expect you and Mr. Tallyho to accompany me in the evening to
      a family-party. I have already stated my intention, and you are both
      expected."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Upon these terms then, I am your man, and I think I may answer for my
      Cousin."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they were at the gate, where, finding the curricle and the
      nags all in readiness, Sparkle and Mortimer were soon horsed, and Tom and
      Bob seated in the curricle. They proceeded to Richmond, taking surveys of
      the scenery on the road, and discoursing on the usual topics of such a
      journey, which being foreign to the professed intention of this work, are
      omitted. Suffice it to say they returned refreshed from the excursion, and
      parted with a promise to meet again at nine o'clock, in Grosvenor Square.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad!" said Dashall, as they entered the diningroom, "there is something
      very mysterious in all this. Sparkle has hitherto been the life and soul
      of society: he seems to be deeply smitten with this young Lady, Miss
      Mortimer, and promises fairly, by his manner, to prove a deserter from our
      standard, and to inlist under the banners of Hymen."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not unlikely," replied Tallyho, "if what we are told be true&mdash;that
      it is what we must all come to."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Be that as it may, it ought not to interfere with our pursuits, Real Life
      in London, though, to be sure, the Ladies, dear creatures, ought not to be
      forgotten: they are so nearly and dearly interwoven with our existence,
      that, without them, Life would be insupportable."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[184]</span>After dinner, they prepared for the
      evening party, and made their appearance in Grosvenor Squire at the
      appointed hour. But as this will introduce new characters to the Reader,
      we shall defer our account of them till the next Chapter.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Ye are stars of the night, ye are gems of the morn,
          Ye are dew-drops whose lustre illumines the thorn;
          And rayless that night is, that morning unblest,
          When no beam in your eye, lights up peace in the breast;
          And the sharp thorn of sorrow sinks deep in the heart,
          Till the sweet lip of Woman assuages the smart;
          'Tis her's o'er the couch of misfortune to bend,
          In fondness a lover, in firmness a friend;
          And prosperity's hour, be it ever confest,
          From Woman receives both refinement and zest;
          And adorn'd by the bays, or enwreath'd with the willow,
          Her smile is our meed, and her bosom our pillow.
</pre>
    <p>
      ARRIVED at Grosvenor Square, they found the party consisted of Colonel B&mdash;&mdash;,
      his son and daughter, Miss Mortimer, and her brother, Mr. Sparkle, Mr.
      Merrywell, and Lady Lovelace. The first salutations of introduction being
      over, there was time to observe the company, among whom, Miss Mortimer
      appeared to be the principal magnet of attraction. The old Colonel was
      proud to see the friends of Mr. Sparkle, and had previously given a hearty
      welcome to Mr. Merrywell, as the friend of his nephew, the young Mortimer.
      Sparkle now appeared the gayest of the gay, and had been amusing the
      company with some of his liveliest descriptions of character and manners,
      that are to be witnessed in the metropolis. While Merrywell, who did not
      seem to be pleased with the particular attentions he paid to Miss
      Mortimer, was in close conversation with her brother.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom could not but acknowledge that it was scarcely possible to see Miss
      Mortimer, without feelings of a nature which he had scarcely experienced
      before. The elegant neatness of her dress was calculated to display the
      beauty of her form, and the vivid flashes of a dark eye were so many
      irresistible attacks upon the heart; a sweet voice, and smiling
      countenance, appeared to throw a radiance around the room, and illuminate
      the visages of the whole <span class="pagenum">[186]</span>party, while
      Lady Lovelace and Maria B&mdash;&mdash; served as a contrast to heighten
      that effect which they envied and reproved. While tea was preparing, after
      which it was proposed to take a rubber at cards, a sort of general
      conversation took place: the preparations for the Coronation, the new
      novels of the day, and the amusements of the theatre, were canvassed in
      turn; and speaking of the writings of Sir Walter Scott, as the presumed
      author of the celebrated Scotch novels, Lady Lovelace declared she found
      it impossible to procure the last published from the library,
      notwithstanding her name has been long on the list, so much was it in
      request.
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle replied, "That he had purchased the Novel, and would willingly
      lend it to the Ladies. As for the Libraries," continued he, "they are good
      places of accommodation, but it is impossible to please every one, either
      there or any where else; they are however very amusing at times, and as a
      proof of it, I strolled the other morning to a Circulating Library, for
      the express purpose of lounging away an hour in digesting the politics and
      news of the day; but the curious scenes to which I was witness during this
      short period, so distracted my attention, that, despite of the grave
      subjects on which I was meditating, I could not resist lending an
      attentive ear to all that passed around me. There was something of
      originality in the countenance of the Master of the Library which struck
      me forcibly; and the whimsical answers which he made to his numerous
      subscribers, and the yet more whimsical tone in which they were
      pronounced, more than once provoked a smile. The first person who
      attracted my notice was a fine showy looking woman, dressed in the extreme
      of fashion, with a bloom upon her cheek, which might have emulated that of
      the rose, with this exception, that it wanted the charm of nature. Putting
      a list into the hands of the Bookseller, she inquired if he had any of the
      productions the names of which were there transcribed. Glancing his eye
      over the paper, he replied (with an archness which not a little
      disconcerted her, and which probably occasioned her abrupt disappearance,
      "<i>The Fine Lady</i>, Madam, is seldom or ever at home; but <i>Family
      Secrets</i> we are always ready to let out." '<i>Characters of Eminent Men</i>'
      growled out a little vulgar consequential Citizen, whose countenance bore
      the stamp of that insufferable dulness that might almost tempt <span
      class="pagenum">[187]</span>one to imagine him incapable of comprehending
      the meaning of the words which he pronounced with an air of so much
      self-importance; '<i>Characters of Eminent Men</i>, 195,' repeated the
      Snarler, in the same tone, 'I much fear if we can boast a quarter of that
      number, eh! Mr. Margin?' "I fear not, Sir," replied Margin; "but such as
      we have are very much at your service." 'Better be in the service of the
      nation than in mine, by far,' said the little purse-proud gentleman,
      shrugging his shoulders very significantly. "Shall I send it for you,
      Sir?" said Margin, without noticing the last remark. 'By no means, by no
      means; the volume is not so large, it won't encumber me much; I believe I
      shall find it small enough to put in my pocket,' pursued the little great
      man, grinning at the shrewdness of his own observations, and stalking out
      with as much self-complacency as he had stalked in. I knew the man well,
      and could not help laughing at the lofty airs he assumed, at the manner in
      which he affected to decry all his countrymen without mercy, at his
      unwillingness to acknowledge any talent amongst them, though he himself
      was a man of that plodding description who neither ever had done, nor ever
      could do any thing to entitle him to claim distinction of any sort. The
      young Coxcomb who next entered, was a direct contrast to the last
      applicant, both in person and manner. Approaching with a fashionable
      contortion, he stretched out his lady-like hand, and in the most languid
      and affected tone imaginable, inquired for The Idler. "That, Sir," said
      Margin, "is amongst the works we have unhappily lost, but you will be sure
      to meet with it at any of the fashionable libraries in the neighbourhood
      of Bond Street or St. James's." The young Fop had just sense enough to
      perceive that the shaft was aimed at him, but not enough to relish the
      joke, or correct the follies which provoked it, and turned abruptly on his
      heel. He was met at the door by a sentimental boarding-school Miss, who
      came flying into the shop in defiance of her governess, and inquired, in a
      very pathetic tone, for <i>The Constant Lover</i>. "That, I am afraid,"
      said Margin, "is not amongst our collection." 'Dear me,' lisped the young
      Lady, with an air of chagrin, 'that's very provoking, I thought that was
      what every one had.' "Give me leave to assure you, Ma'am, that you are
      quite mistaken. I fancy you will find that it is not to be met with all
      over London."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[188]</span>An old Gentleman of the old school,
      whose clothes were decidedly the cut of the last century, and whose stiff
      and formal manners were precisely of the same date with his habiliments,
      next came hobbling in. Poring through his spectacles over the catalogue
      which lay upon the counter, the first thing which caught his eye, was <i>An
      Essay upon Old Maids</i>. "Tom, Tom," said the complaisant Librarian,
      calling to a lad at the other end of the shop, "reach down the Old Maids
      for the gentleman. They won't appear to advantage, I'm afraid, a little
      dusty or damaged, with having laid so long upon the shelf," he added, with
      a simper, which was not lost upon any one present. A melancholy looking
      man, in whose countenance meekness and insipidity were alike plainly
      depicted, now came forward, inquiring, in an under, and what might almost
      be designated an alarmed tone of voice, for <i>The Impertinent Wife</i>; a
      female, who hung upon his arm, interrupted him by entreating, or rather
      insisting in no very gentle tone, 'that he would ask for something better
      worth having.' Margin, affecting only to hear the former speaker,
      immediately produced the book in question, and observed, with much
      naivete, "that the Impertinent Wife was sure to be in the way at all
      hours," at the same time not omitting to recommend Discipline as "a better
      work." A young man, whom I knew to be one of the greatest fortune hunters
      about town, with an air of consummate assurance, put out his hand for <i>Disinterested
      Marriage</i>. "That's a thing quite out of date&mdash;never thought of
      now, Sir," said Margin, who knew him as well as myself; "Allow me to
      recommend something of more recent date, something more sought after in
      the fashionable world, Splendid Misery, Sir, or&mdash;"The young man heard
      no more: spite of his impudence, he was so abashed by the reply, that he
      made a hasty retreat. The last person whom I thought it worth my while to
      notice, was a tall, meagre looking man, whom I recollected to have seen
      pointed out to me as a wit, and a genius of the first order. His wit was,
      however, of that dangerous sort which caused his company to be rather
      shunned than courted; and it was very evident, from his appearance, that
      he had not had the wit to work himself into the good graces of those who
      might have had it in their power to befriend him. Though he spoke in a
      very low tone, I soon found that he was inquiring for <i>Plain Sense</i>.
      On Margin's replying, <span class="pagenum">[189]</span>with much
      nonchalance, that <i>Plain Sense</i> had of late become very rare, finding
      himself disappointed in his first application, his next aim was <i>Patronage</i>.
      "That, Sir, (said the wary bookseller) is so much sought after, that I
      really cannot promise it to you at present; but if, as I conclude, you
      merely want something to beguile a leisure hour or two, probably <i>The
      Discontented Man</i> will answer the purpose very well."
    </p>
    <p>
      To this description of Sparkle, the whole company listened with attention
      and delight, frequently interrupting him with bursts of laughter. Tea was
      handed round, and then cards introduced. Young Mortimer and Merrywell
      seemed to take but little interest in the play, and evidently discovered
      their anxiety to be liberated, having some other object in view. Mortimer
      felt no great portion of pleasure in passing his time with his uncle, the
      Colonel, nor with his sister, Lady Lovelace, who was a perfect model of
      London affectation; besides, his friend Mr. Merrywell, who was to him what
      Tom Dashall and Sparkle had been to Tallyho, had made an engagement to
      introduce him to some of his dashing acquaintances in the West. Nods and
      winks were interchanged between them, and could not but be noticed by Tom
      and Bob, though Sparkle was so intent upon the amusements of the moment,
      and the company of the lovely Caroline, as to appear immoveable.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mr. Merrywell at length stated that he must be compelled to quit the
      party. Young Mortimer also apologized; for as he and his friend were
      engaged for an early excursion in the morning, he should take a bed at his
      habitation, in order to be fully prepared. This was the first step to
      breaking up the party.
    </p>
    <p>
      Merrywell called Sparkle on one side, saying he had something of
      importance to communicate. It was twelve o'clock, and the gentlemen, after
      taking a formal leave of the ladies and the Colonel, and a promise on the
      part of Sparkle to meet them again the next morning at twelve, to escort
      them to the Exhibition, left the house.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am really happy," said Merrywell to Sparkle as they passed the door,
      "to have had the honour of this introduction, and shall have much pleasure
      in becoming better acquainted with Mr. Sparkle, who, though personally
      unknown to me, his name and fame are familiar.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[190]</span>Mr. Mortimer and myself are going to
      take a review of the neighbourhood of St. James's, probably to shake an
      elbow."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Excellent," said Tom; "here is a fine opportunity for Mr. Tallyho to take
      a like survey, and, if agreeable, we will join the party. Though I am by
      no means a friend to gaming, I conceive it necessary that every person
      should see the haunts of its votaries, and the arts they make use of, in
      order to avoid them."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are right, and therefore let us have a peep at them." With this they
      'walk'd on, listening with attention to the following lines, which were
      recited by Sparkle:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Behold yon group, fast fix'd at break of day,
          Whose haggard looks a sleepless night betray,
          With stern attention, silent and profound,
          The mystic table closely they surround;
          Their eager eyes with eager motions join,
          As men who meditate some vast design:
          Sure, these are Statesmen, met for public good,
          For some among them boast of noble blood:
          Or are they traitors, holding close debate
          On desp'rate means to overthrow the State?
          For there are men among them whose domains
          And goods and chattels lie within their brains.
          No, these are students of the blackest art
          That can corrupt the morals or the heart;
          Yet are they oft in fashion's ranks preferred,
          And men of honour, if you take their word.
          But they can plunder, pillage, and devour,
          More than poor robbers, at the midnight hour;
          Lay deeper schemes to manage lucky hits,
          Than artful swindlers, living by their wits.
          Like cunning fowlers, spread th' alluring snare,
          And glory when they pluck a pigeon bare.
          These are our gamesters, who have basely made
          The cards and dice their study and their trade."{1}

     1 Gaming is generally understood to have been invented by
     the Lydians, when they were under the pressure of a great
     famine. To divert themselves from dwelling on their
     sufferings, they contrived the balls, tables, &amp;c. and, in
     order to bear their calamity the better, were accustomed to
     play for the whole day together, without interruption, that
     they might not be rack'd with the thought of food, which
     they could not obtain. It is not a little extraordinary that
     this invention, which was originally intended as a remedy
     for hunger, is now a very common cause of that very evil.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[191]</span>"True," said Merry well, as Sparkle
      concluded, though he did not like the satire upon his own favourite
      pursuit; "those delineations are correct, and the versification good, as
      far as it applies to the worst species of the gaminghouse."
    </p>
    <p>
      "O," said Tom, "then pray, Sir, which is the worst?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nonsense," said Sparkle, "there is neither worse nor best; these Hells
      are all alike. <i>Sharks, Greeks, Gamblers, Knowing Ones, Black-legs, and
      Levanters</i>, are to be met with at them all, and <i>they meet to bite
      one another's heads off</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      "An admirable description, truly, of the company you are about to
      introduce us to, Gentlemen," said Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I don't understand Greeks, Hells, and Black-legs," said Mortimer, "and
      should like an explanation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," replied Sparkle&mdash;"<i>Hell</i> is the general
      title now given to any well-known gaming-house, and really appears to be
      well chosen; for all the miseries that can fall to the lot of human
      nature, are to be found in those receptacles of idleness, duplicity, and
      villany. Gaming is an estate to which all the world has a pretence, though
      few espouse it who are willing to secure either their estates or
      reputations: and these Hells may fairly be considered as so many half-way
      houses to the Fleet or King's Bench Prisons, or some more desperate end.
      The love of play is the most incurable of insanities: robbery, suicide,
      and the extensive ruin of whole families, have been known to proceed from
      this unfortunate and fatal propensity.
    </p>
    <p>
      "<i>Greeks, Gamblers, Knowing Ones, and Black-legs</i>, are synonimous
      terms, applied to the frequenters of the modern Hells, or Gaming-houses,
      and may be distinguished from the rest of society by the following
      peculiarities in pursuits and manners.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The <i>Greeks</i> of the present day, though they may not lay claim to,
      or boast of all the attributes of the <i>Greeks</i> of antiquity, must
      certainly be allowed to possess that quality for which the latter were
      ever so celebrated, namely, <i>cunning and wariness</i>: for although no
      modern Greek can be said to have any resemblance to Achilles, Ajax,
      Patroclus, or Nestor, in point of courage, strength, fidelity, or wisdom,
      he may nevertheless boast of being a close copier of the equally renowned
      chief of Ithaca. You will find him in most societies, habited like a
      gentleman; <span class="pagenum">[192]</span>his clothes are of the newest
      fashion, and his manners of the highest polish, with every appearance of
      candour and honour; while he subsists by unfair play at dice, cards, and
      billiards, deceiving and defrauding all those with whom he may engage;
      disregarding the professions of friendship and intimacy, which are
      continually falling from his lips.
    </p>
    <p>
      "To become a good <i>Greek</i> (which, by the way, is a contradiction) it
      will be found necessary to follow these instructions:
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the first place, lie should be able to command his temper; he should
      speak but little, and when he does mingle in conversation, he should most
      decidedly deprecate play, as a source of the greatest evil that can prey
      upon society, and elucidate its tendencies by striking examples which are
      well known to himself, and which are so forcibly impressed upon his
      recollection, that he is determined never to play deep again, but has no
      objection to a sociable and friendly game now and then, just to pass the
      time away a little agreeably. By this means he may readily mark down his
      man, and the game once in view, he should not appear too eager in the
      pursuit of it, but take good care, as the proverb says, to give a sprat,
      in order to catch a herring. This should be done by allowing some
      temporary success, before he make a final hit.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is perhaps no art which requires so much of continual practice as
      that of <i>Greekery</i>. It is therefore necessary, that the professor
      should frequently exercise himself in private with cards and dice, in
      order that his digits may be trained to a proper degree of agility, upon
      which the success of his art principally depends. He should also be
      accustomed to work with some younger man than himself, who, having once
      been a pigeon, is become a naute, that is enlightened and will not peach&mdash;consequently,
      he serves as an excellent decoy to others.
    </p>
    <p>
      "To ascertain the property of the pigeon he intends to pluck, is another
      essential requisite; and when this important information is obtained,
      (which should be before he commences operations) he should affect the
      utmost liberality as to time, &amp;c. and make a show of extending every
      honourable facility to his opponent, even by offers of pecuniary
      assistance; by which means, (if he should be fortunate enough to have it
      accepted) he may probably, by good management, obtain a legal <span
      class="pagenum">[193]</span>security from him, and thus be enabled to
      fasten on his prey whenever he pleases.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The title of a military man, such as Captain, is very useful to the
      Greek, as it introduces him well to society, and if he has once held a
      commission in the army, so much the better. If not, it can be assumed, so
      that if any unpleasant regimental peculation should be introduced, he may
      place his hand on the left side of his breast, declare he is astonished
      and alarmed at the calumnious spirit of the times, shake his head, and
      interlard his conversation with common-place ejaculations; such as the
      following&mdash;Indeed&mdash;No&mdash;Why I know Harry very well&mdash;he's
      a bit of a blood&mdash;can it be possible&mdash;I should not have thought
      it&mdash;bless my heart&mdash;exactly so&mdash;good God&mdash;a devilish
      good joke tho'&mdash;that's very true, says I&mdash;so says he, &amp;c.
      &amp;c.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A Greek should be a man of some personal courage, never shrink from a
      row, nor be afraid to' fight a duel. He should be able to bully, bluster,
      swagger and swear, as occasion may require; nay, in desperate cases, such
      us peaching, &amp;c. he should not object even to assassination. He should
      invite large parties to dine with him frequently, and have a particular
      sort of wine for particular companies. He should likewise be able to
      swallow a tolerable quantity of the juice of the grape himself, as well as
      know how to appear as if he were drinking, when he is merely passing the
      bottle, and so manage it passing, as to seem drunk at proper times. When
      good opportunities present themselves for the exercise of his art, and
      when a hit is really to be made, he should positively refuse to suffer
      play of any kind in his house, alleging that he has seen enough of it, and
      cut the concern. This serves to increase the desire for it in others. On
      any decisive occasion, when a train is known to be well laid, he should
      appear to be drunk before any one of the party; in which case he should
      take care beforehand to instruct his decoy to pluck the pigeon, while he,
      as a supposed observer, is betting with some one in the company, (of
      course an accomplice) and is also a loser.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Greeks, who know each other, are enabled to convey information by means
      of private signals, without uttering a word, and consequently without
      detection. At whist, or other games on the cards, fingers are admirable
      conveyancers of intelligence, and by dexterous performers <span
      class="pagenum">[194]</span>are so managed, as to defy the closest
      scrutiny, so as to have the natural appearance of pliancy, while, among
      the <i>knowing ones</i>, their movements are actually deciding the fate of
      a rubber."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad!" said Mortimer, "you seem to understand the business so well, I
      wonder you don't open shop."
    </p>
    <p>
      "My knowledge," continued Sparkle, "is but theoretical. I cannot boast of
      much practical information, for it is long since I shook the lucky
      castor."
    </p>
    <p>
      "O, then, you are discontented because you have no luck."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not so," said Sparkle, "for I never play very deep, so that, win or lose,
      I can never suffer much; but I am willing to give information to others,
      and with that view I have detailed the nature of the houses and the
      general character of their frequenters, according to my own conception of
      them. The <i>Levanter</i> is a <i>Black-leg</i>, who lives by the <i>broads</i>{l}
      and the <i>turf</i>,{2} and is accustomed to work as it were by <i>telegraph</i>{3}
      with his pal; and if you take the broads in hand in their company, you are
      sure to be work'd, either by glazing, that is, putting you in the front of
      a looking-glass, by which means your hand is discovered by your
      antagonist, or by private signals from the pal. On the turf he will pick
      up some nobleman or gentleman, who he knows is not <i>up to the rig</i>&mdash;bet
      him fifty or a hundred on a horse&mdash;pull out his pocket-book&mdash;set
      down the name, and promise to be at the stand when the race is over; but
      takes care to be seen no more, unless he is the winner, which he easily
      ascertains by the direction his pal takes immediately on the arrival of
      the horses. But hold, we must dismiss the present subject of
      contemplation, for here we are at the very scene of action, and now for
      ocular demonstration."
    </p>
    <p>
      No. 40, now 32, Pall Mall, was the place of destination, a house well
      known, said, in Koubel's time, to be more <i>à la Française</i>, and of
      course more of a gambling-house, than any other of the same description in
      London. The former were good judges of their business, and did things in
      prime order; but, if report say true, the new Establishment
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Broads&mdash;A cant term for cards.

     2 Turf&mdash;A cant term for horse-racing.

     3 Telegraph&mdash;To work the telegraph, is to impart information
     by secret signs and motions, previously concerted between
     the parties.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[195]</span>has completely eclipsed their
      precursors: it is now conducted wholly by aliens&mdash;by Frenchmen!!! who
      are said to have realized 80,000L. within a very short space of time; and
      that a certain nobleman, whose name is not Dormouse, has serious reason to
      remember that he has been a visitor.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
These concerns are considered of so much importance, and are found to be
so very productive, that regular co-partnerships are entered into,
the business is conducted almost with the precision of a mercantile
establishment; all kinds of characters embark in these speculations, and
rapid fortunes are to be made by them; this alone ought to deter young
men from play, since it sufficiently indicates how much the chances are
in favour of the tables. But many high and noble names resort to them.

          "There's N&mdash;g&mdash;nts proud Lord, who, to angle for pelf,
          Will soon find the secret of diddling himself;
          There's Herbert, who lately, as knowing one's tell,
          Won a tight seven hundred at a House in Pall Mall.

          Captain D&mdash;v&mdash;s, who now is a chick of the game,
          For altho' in high feather, the odds will soon tame;
          And the Marquis of Bl&mdash;ndf&mdash;rd, who touch'd 'em up rare
          For a thousand in Bennet Street (all on the square);
          There's Li&mdash;d and C&mdash;m&mdash;ck, who'd a marine to be,
          For none drills a guinea more ably than he;
          There's a certain rum Baronet, every one knows,
          Who on Saturday nights to the Two Sevens{1} goes,

          With J&mdash;&mdash; and Cl&mdash;&mdash;, Billy W&mdash;&mdash; and two more,
          So drunk, that they keep merry hell in a roar.
          Long D&mdash;ll&mdash;n, their C&mdash;rt&mdash;r, a son of a gun;
          Bill B&mdash;&mdash;, the Doctor, that figure of fun;

          Bankers, Dealers and Demireps, Cuckolds in droves,
          A T&mdash;l&mdash;r, a T&mdash;nf&mdash;Id, a Cr&mdash;kf&mdash;Id, and CI&mdash;ves;
          A H&mdash;rtf&mdash;rd, a Y&mdash;rm&mdash;th, of frail ones ten score;
          X&mdash;ft&mdash;e, S&mdash;br&mdash;gt and E&mdash;ll&mdash;s, and still many more."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Come along," said Merrywell, "let us see what they are made of; are
      either of you known? for Cerberus, who keeps the door, is d&mdash;&mdash;d
      particular, in consequence of some rows they have recently had, and the
      devil is careful to pick his customers."
    </p>
    <p>
      "To pluck them, you mean," said Tom; "but perhaps you are in possession of
      the pass-word&mdash;if so, lead on."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The <i>Two Sevens</i>&mdash;A nick-name for the well-known house,
     No. 77, Jermyn Street.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[196]</span>Tallyho had already heard so much about
      Hells, Gambling-houses, and Subscription-houses, that he was all anxiety
      for an interior view, and the same feeling animated Mortimer. As they were
      about to enter, they were not a little surprised to find that houses which
      are spoken of so publicly, have in general the appearance of private
      dwellings, with the exception that the hall-door is left ajar during the
      hours usually devoted to play, like those of trap-cages, to catch the
      passing pigeons, and to obviate the delay which might be occasioned by the
      necessity of knocking&mdash;a delay which might expose the customers to
      the glances of an unsuspecting creditor&mdash;a confiding father, or a
      starving wife; and, as Merrywell observed, "It was to be understood that
      the entrance was well guarded, and that no gentleman could be permitted to
      risk or lose his money, without an introduction." A very necessary
      precaution to obviate the danger of being surprised by the officers of the
      law; but that rule is too easily to be broken, for any gentleman whom the
      door-keeper has sufficient reason to think is not an Officer of Justice,
      finds the avenues to these labyrinths too ready for his admission.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page196.jpg" alt="Page196 a Modern Hell " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      On passing the outer-door, they found themselves impeded by a second, and
      a third, and each door constructed with a small spy-hole, exhibiting the
      ball of a ruffian's eye, intently gazing on and examining their figures.
      It is necessary to observe, that if the visitor is known to be a fair
      pigeon, or an old crow, he is at once admitted by these gentlemen, and
      politely bowed up stairs; and as Merrywell appeared to be well known, no
      obstruction was offered, and they proceeded through the last, which was an
      iron door, and were shewn directly into the room, which presented a scene
      of dazzling astonishment.
    </p>
    <p>
      On entering, they discovered the votaries of gaming around an oblong
      table, covered with green cloth, and the priests of the ceremony in the
      centre, one to deal cards and decide events, and another to assist him in
      collecting the plunder which should follow such decisions. Being engaged
      in the play, but little notice was taken of the arrival of the party,
      except by two or three eagle-eyed gentlemen, who, perceiving there were
      some <i>New-comes</i>{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1. Newcomes&mdash;The name given to any new faces discovered among
     the usual visitants.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[197]</span>and always keeping business in view,
      made up to Merrywell, began to be very talkative&mdash;was happy to see
      him&mdash;hoped he had been well&mdash;and congratulated him on the
      introduction of his friends&mdash;took snuff, and handed the box round
      with all the appearance of unaffected friendship.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These," said Tom Dashall to his Cousin, drawing him on one side, "are the
      Proprietors{1} of this concern;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 In order that the class of men by whom houses of this
     description are generally kept, and to shew the certainty
     they have of accumulating riches, as well as to guard the
     young and inexperienced against being decoyed, it may not be
     amiss to animadvert upon a few of the most prominent and
     well known.

     No. 7, Pall Mall, is kept by B&mdash;&mdash;l, who has been a public
     and noted gambler for these forty years, and is generally
     termed the Father of the Houses. He was at one time a poor
     man, but now, by his honest earnings, is in possession of
     some tens of thousands. It is said that he was originally a
     stable-boy, and, in process of time, arose to be a jobber in
     horse-flesh, but has at length feathered his nest with
     <i>pigeons down</i>.

     No. 77, St. James's Street, nick-named the Two Sevens, kept
     by Messrs. T. C. C. T. is a well-known House, where things
     are conducted with great civility and attention, and the
     best possible treatment may generally be relied upon, though
     they are rather sparing of refreshments, and apt to grumble
     if a customer has a run of good luck. A Prussian Officer,
     however, not long ago, kick'd up a devil of a row about
     losing a very large sum of money; but it is scarcely
     necessary to add it was all in vain, for there was no
     redress.

     The produce of this Bank, (which Paddy B&mdash;&mdash; calls the
     Devil's Exchequer, whence you can draw neither principal nor
     interest,) furnishes elegant houses and equipages, both in
     town and country, and, it is possible, may one day or other
     send a Member to Parliament, or a General to the field.

     No. 10, King Street, St. James's, is conducted by old and
     young D&mdash;&mdash;s L&mdash;&mdash;r; the father is too old in iniquity
     to remember his progress from poverty to affluence.

     No. 5, King-street, is kept by Mr. A&mdash;&mdash;l; the former
     residing at No. 3, Leicester-place, the latter No. 3,&mdash;&mdash;
     Street; and both live in prime style. The former, in his
     youth, was an errand boy, and he became so willing in doing
     little jobs, that his employers have paid him most
     handsomely. The latter gentleman, who may be seen frequently
     driving a dennet, and looking both sides of the road at
     once, is a chip of the old block: but as it is not our
     intention to visit the sins of the sou upon the father, we
     shall not enter into a minute examination of him.

     No. 6, in Bury-street, is only about a year's standing.
     This table was set up by a broken adventurer, Capt. B&mdash;&mdash;,
     with Mr. &mdash;&mdash;, a jeweller, and a man whose agents keep a
     house of ill fame, no way inferior in attribute  to his
     house in Bury-street.    They commenced with narrow funds,
     and now, thank the gulls, are independent.

     The next door, No. 7, is held by M&mdash;&mdash;g, a map-seller,
     living at Charing Cross; Carl&mdash;s, formerly an under-
     strapper at Ben&mdash;t's, living at King's Road, Chelsea; H&mdash;&mdash;ll,
     a tallow-chandler, living at No. 8, Bury-street; and
     his brother, a brick-layer, residing somewhere off Grosvenor
     Place. These fellows have carried on their depredations for
     some time, but now have closed for awhile, being one of the
     houses against whom a Jew, named Portugal John, and another
     named the Young Black Diamond, have commenced proceedings,
     for sums had and received, and by indictment.

     No.  28, in the same street, is the property  of one O&mdash;&mdash;
     d, formerly a menial servant, and not long ago a porter to
     B&mdash;&mdash;l.

     These examples shew by incontestible inference, that the
     keepers of those tables have an advantage, which renders
     their success certain, while it fleeces the men who attend
     them. We always have seen these Proprietors in the same
     unchangeable affluence, driving their equipages, keeping
     their country houses, &amp;c. &amp;c. while those who play
     invariably sink into poverty. It has been often&mdash;very often
     remarked, that young men who commence this career of folly
     and vice, by degrees lose that freshness and fashionable
     appearance which they at first possessed, and at last are
     seen wandering about St. James's Park <i>counting the trees</i>,
     and dining on a <i>gravel hash</i>, for want of more genial fare,
     in a threadbare coat, half-polished boots, a greasy hat, and
     a dirty cravat; while the plunderers of their happiness and
     property are driving by them in luxury, enjoying their
     pleasure by contrast with their victim, and sneering at his
     miseries.

     Of all the vices which deform this Metropolis (and there are
     not a few) the most ruinous is that of Rouge et Noir
     gambling, for that is practised in the day time, and it is a
     matter of astonishment to think that it has remained
     undisturbed by the law, and hitherto unnoticed by the Press.
     At this moment no less than twelve of these Hells are open
     to the public in the noon-day; and no less than five or six
     profane the Sabbath by their sinful practices. Although
     London has been, time out of mind, infested with the imps of
     play, yet it was not until within these last ten or fifteen
     years that they dared open their dens to the honest light of
     day. About that period, or a very short time before, Rouge
     et Noir was imported, amongst other fashionable things, from
     France; and to this game we are indebted for the practice of
     gambling in the day-light.

     It is impossible to put down the vice of Gaming wholly, and
     not all the various enactments of the legislature against it
     have succeeded; but that the ruinous and infamous practice
     of indulging that vice in the midst of crowded day should be
     suffered, for upwards of sixteen years, in the centre of
     British society, when it can easily be suppressed, calls
     forth our wonder, and gives a stronger proof to us that our
     Societies for the Suppression of Vice, &amp;c. &amp;c. are shadows
     with a name. When the Hazard tables open, it is at an hour
     when the respectable and controlled youths of London are
     within the walls of their homes; few are abroad except the
     modern man of <i>ton</i>, the rake, the sot, the robber, and the
     vagabond; and the dangers of gaming on these orders of
     society is little indeed, when compared with the baneful
     effects of that vice upon the mercantile youth of London. It
     is to this class, and to the youth of the middling orders of
     society, that gaming is destructive, and it is upon these
     that the Rouge et Noir tables cast the most fatal influence.
     Young men of this order cannot in general be absent from
     their families after midnight, the hour when the nocturnal
     Hells formerly yawned upon their victims; but now the
     introduction of Rouge et Noir has rendered the abominable
     track of play a morning and evening's lounge, set forth in
     all the false glare which the artful proprietors can invent
     to deceive the thoughtless; and thus it affords
     opportunities and temptations to such youth almost
     irresistible.

     When the glittering of London pleasures first meets the eye
     of a young man placed upon the road of a mercantile life, or
     when he enters any of the multifarious departments in the
     machine of society which always lead the industrious and
     prudent to honourable emolument, he too frequently
     misconceives the fashionable gamester's character, and
     confounds his crimes with elegant accomplishments. The road
     to pleasure is broad, and the gates of these Hells are open
     to him at hours when he can be absent, and can indulge his
     whim without suspicion&mdash;for at first he looks upon his new
     enjoyment but a mere whim, which he can abandon at any
     moment. But how different is the proof! He goes on&mdash;his new
     made wings carry him through a region of delight, and he
     believes himself to possess the powers of the eagle&mdash;still
     lighter he ascends, and the solid earth on which he formerly
     trod in safety, recedes immeasurably from his giddy eye&mdash;at
     length his wings prove wax, they melt before the sun, and
     the victim of his own folly tumbles into the abyss of
     destruction.

     It is no uncommon thing, nay, we will positively declare it
     to be a very frequent practice of these misled young men,
     when they have been initiated, and have the temporary
     command of money belonging to their employers, to go to the
     Rouge et Noir tables, armed (as they think) with
     impenetrable armour&mdash;a large sum; and, in the hope of
     profiting to a certain amount, risk that property, the loss
     of which would be the loss of every thing dear to them in
     society. They believe, from the greatness of the amount they
     possess, that they can command a small gain, and not for a
     moment doubt they will be able to replace or return the
     money entrusted to their care; but little do they know the
     fickleness of luck, and less do they suspect the odds and
     imposing roguery arrayed against them. Their first loss is
     trifling, but they have to win that back iu addition to
     their expected profits; for this purpose they stake a larger
     sum, which, if they lose, increases their task, and so on,
     until the half-frantic victims see no hope but desperation,
     and their remaining stock is placed upon the chance of a
     single card. The event closes, and the man who yesterday
     enjoyed the good opinion of the world, and the esteem and
     confidence of his friends, to-day becomes the veriest
     outcast of society! These are common cases, one of which,
     for example, we will describe as the facts occurred:&mdash;In the
     year 1816, a Clerk, possessing the highest reputation,
     became a frequenter of a Rouge et Noir table. From the
     nature of his employment, he had daily the command of large
     sums, which, for a short time, he risked at play
     successfully. One day, however, he brought with him his
     employer's money, to the amount of 1700L. the whole of
     which, in two days, he lost. We may judge of the unhappy
     young man's feelings by his subsequent conduct. He wrote a
     confession of the affair to the man he wronged, retired to a
     tavern, and blew his brains out!

     These gaming-tables open at half-past twelve o'clock,
     continue their orgies until five, and recommence at seven in
     the evening. How many young men are passing their doors at
     these hours with the property of others in their pockets!&mdash;
     and what a temptation to risk it! It would seem as if these
     places were set up as shops designed chiefly for the
     accommodation of mid-day dealers in ill-fortune, as if
     levelled directly at those men who cannot or will not spend
     their nights in gambling; and how the proprietors contrive
     to escape detection and punishment is surprising,
     considering that the law affords ample means to put them
     down.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[200]</span>they know their customers, and place
      themselves here to watch the progress of their gains. Their attentions are
      always directed to the new-comers. Remorseless, avaricious, and happy&mdash;unmarked
      with the lines of care, which contract and deform the faces of their
      victims, "They smile and smile, and murder while they smile." They will
      explain the fairness of the game, and tell you of the great losses they
      have sustained; but as this is no place for explanation, we must look on
      and say nothing."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time, Merrywell and Mortimer were mingled in the throng at the
      table. Sparkle was engaged in conversation with an old acquaintance, a
      profusion of money was flying about, and a large heap or bank was placed
      in the centre. All was anxiety, and, for a few moments, no sound was
      heard, but the awful numbers of the eventful dealer; every countenance was
      hushed in expectation, and every eye was fixed upon the coming card, which
      should decide the fate of hundreds. It was an awful moment to every one
      engaged in the play; but the pause was succeeded with a sort of
      harlequinade movement, to a scene of confusion and uproar scarcely to be
      conceived.
    </p>
    <p>
      The appearance at the door of half a dozen persons armed with pistols,
      rushing past the guardians, and bearing <span class="pagenum">[201]</span>away
      all before them, had such an instantaneous effect upon the company, that
      they all arose, as it were, to receive them, and the leader of the party
      threw himself suddenly upon the pile of Bank-notes in the centre of the
      table, with intent to seize the whole bank.
    </p>
    <p>
      Confusion and dismay were now visibly depicted on every countenance, for
      some, actuated by desperation at the prospect of ruin, and others by the
      urgings of avarice, determined to have a scramble for the notes, which
      they commenced most furiously, each one securing as much as he could to
      himself. There was tumbling and tossing, and pulling and shoving, mouths
      stuffed with hundreds, hundreds of mouths that were supperless, and likely
      to continue so, unless they could now make sure of something. Bank paper
      was literally going for nothing. However, the pistols being the most
      powerful, the armed forces succeeded in seizing the greatest share of the
      stock, and a negative sort of silence was at length restored. The party
      was materially decreased; for, seeing they were betrayed, every one, after
      an endeavour to secure a share of the spoil, deemed it necessary to make
      good his retreat; and among the rest, our party, who had not interfered
      with the play, or assisted in the entertainment, soon found themselves in
      the street.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad," said Sparkle, "I think we are in luck to escape so easily; we
      might have been compelled to make our appearance at Bow Street to-morrow,
      an occurrence I would studiously avoid."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well done, old steady," said Tom; "it is not long, you know, since you
      was there, after a night's lodging in the neighbourhood."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That was under very different circumstances," continued Sparkle; "in
      defence of a woman I would risk my life at any time, but I would by no
      means incur the imputation of being a gambler&mdash;it is a character I
      abhor. I have before said I would never venture into those dens again, to
      herd with swindlers of all descriptions."
    </p>
    <p>
      "They all seem gay fellows, too," said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," replied Sparkle; "but the character and conduct of a young man has
      ere now been altered in one night: the evil effects produced by initiation
      to those Hells are incalculable."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Moralizing at midnight," said Tom; "an excellent title for a volume <i>sparkling</i>
      contemplations."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[202]</span>"To be written by the Hon. Tom Dashall,
      or the Merry Devil of Piccadilly," was the reply.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Huzza!" said Merrywell, "if this is the case, our time will not be lost
      in this excursion. Did you hear that Lord &mdash;&mdash; has been
      compelled to put down his establishment in consequence of his losses at
      play? pray don't forget to mention that in the work."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Tis no new thing," continued Sparkle, "for Lords of the present day,
      since I believe there are few of the nobility who are not either Greeks or
      Pigeons; indeed, the list of visitors to these places contains names of
      many persons who should set better examples to the humbler classes of the
      community; for the unfortunate results of this too fatal propensity to
      parents and society have been severely felt. Among many instances on
      record, a very interesting one is related of a young Subaltern in a
      regiment of cavalry, who, by successive losses, was reduced to such a
      state of distress, as to form the desperate resolution of trying the road.
      In a moment of agony, he accidentally met with an opportunity which seemed
      to favour his design, having learned that a certain Baronet, recently
      returned from India with abundance of wealth, had laid it out on landed
      estates in England, and that he would on a certain day cross the country
      with a large sum of money, after collecting his rents.
    </p>
    <p>
      "He laid his plan for a meeting on a retired spot, and succeeded in
      stopping the carriage&mdash;' Your money or your life,' said he,
      presenting his pistol with a trembling hand. The Baronet, perceiving there
      was a sort of gentlemanly air about him which indicated something more
      than might be calculated on in the character of a highwayman, presented
      him with his purse, a watch, and a valuable diamond ring, remarking, he
      could not help conceiving that he was unaccustomed to the trade, and that
      it was most desirable he should abandon it for ever. The young Officer,
      though considerably confused and embarrassed by this observation, was not
      to be disappointed of his booty, returned this property, and demanded the
      larger sum, which for safety had been concealed in the bottom of the
      carriage. The manner however in which this was done, only served to
      confirm the suspicions of the Baronet, which he could not help expressing,
      as he acknowledged the accuracy of the Highwayman's information, and
      produced the property, observing, he was sure that <span class="pagenum">[203]</span>circumstances
      of no common kind could have impelled him to this flagrant breach of the
      laws. He asked as a favour, that he would grant him an interview at some
      future period, pledging his honour that he should have no occasion to
      repent such a singular mark of confidence.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Officer replied that he had, and he felt he could with safety trust
      both his life and his honour in the veracity of Sir &mdash;&mdash;, and
      appointed a meeting at the London Coffee House, Ludgate Hill, only
      stipulating, that at such meeting both parties were to be unattended. As
      the day of meeting approached, the Baronet thought seriously of the
      solicited rencontre, and after enjoining perfect secresy on the part of
      his friend, Col. &mdash;&mdash;, entreated him to be his companion. The
      Colonel laughed at the idea, that any man who had robbed another should so
      indiscreetly place his life in his hands, had no conception of his keeping
      his appointment, and solemnly assured the Baronet that he would in no case
      divulge who or what he was, that he might become acquainted with.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Colonel ridiculed his friend's credulity as they entered the house,
      and were shewn to a private room. The appointed hour was eight in the
      evening, and, as the clock of St. Paul's struck, a Gentleman inquiring for
      Sir &mdash;&mdash; was shewn into the room&mdash;wine was ordered, and for
      an hour a general conversation on the popular topics of the day ensued,
      when the Gentleman, evidently under deeply impressed feelings of
      embarrassment and disappointment, in which the Colonel seemed to partake,
      arose, and politely took his leave.
    </p>
    <p>
      "' Well,' said the Baronet, 'what think you of my Highwayman now 1&mdash;am
      I not right?&mdash;is he not a gentleman?'
    </p>
    <p>
      "' And this is the robber, is it, Sir?' said the Colonel&mdash;'Be assured
      he shall swing for it&mdash;why, Sir, I know him well, he is a &mdash;&mdash;
      in my own regiment.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "'Hold,' said the Baronet, 'don't be rash, remember the solemn promise you
      have given, and do not deceive me&mdash;I hold you bound to me, and will
      not permit you to break your engagement&mdash;I have better objects in
      view than the death of a fellow-creature.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "He then requested to be informed of the general tenor of the young man's
      conduct, which he found to be excellent, and that he was an indefatigable
      officer&mdash;'Indeed,' said the Colonel, 'it would give me the greatest
      <span class="pagenum">[204]</span>pain to lose him&mdash;an incomparably
      affectionate husband and father. He has but one vice, to which may be
      attributed his destruction, viz. his inordinate passion for gaming; but I
      cannot feel justified in screening so flagrant an offender&mdash;the law
      must take its course.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "'Moderate your indignation,' said the worthy Baronet, assuming a more
      serious tone, 'and remember you must be personalty answerable to me for
      any disclosure you may think proper to make; and that inasmuch as you
      injure him, you must injure me. You have already given him so high a
      character in every respect but one, that I must interest you further in
      his behalf, and beg you to assist me in my endeavours to reclaim, instead
      of punishing him.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Colonel was surprised; but the Baronet was inflexible. In vain he
      urged that the magnitude of the crime utterly precluded such a proceeding.
    </p>
    <p>
      "' It must be done,' said the Baronet, 'it shall be done. Leave all the
      consequences to me; he has now left us in extreme, though suppressed
      agitation&mdash;There is no time to lose&mdash;fly to save him.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Colonel expressed his readiness to try the experiment.
    </p>
    <p>
      "' Then,' said the Baronet, 'follow him immediately, assure him of my
      forgiveness, and that if he will pledge his word to forsake this dangerous
      vice, what he has already obtained he may hold as a gift, and I will add
      whatever may be necessary to extricate him from any temporary
      embarrassment.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "It was an important embassy&mdash;life or death was to be decided by it.
      The Colonel took his departure, certain of finding him at home taking
      leave of his family, and, reaching his habitation a short time after his
      arrival, witnessed a scene of misery which, although he had partly
      anticipated, he could not have conceived. He found him, surrounded by his
      wife and children, in an agony of desperation and despair.
    </p>
    <p>
      "When he entered the apartment, the poor culprit, convinced by the
      presence of his Colonel that all was lost, fell on his knees, and
      supplicated if possible that his fame, not his life, might be spared for
      the sake of his afflicted but innocent and injured family. Language has no
      power to describe the surprise and consternation with which, after a
      severe lecture, he received the joyful intelligence of <span
      class="pagenum">[205]</span>which his Colonel was the bearer. He returned
      with his Commanding Officer to &mdash;&mdash; Square, where he was
      received by the Baronet as a repentant friend; and has lived to repair his
      error, and become deservedly distinguished as an ornament to society,
      civil and religious as well as military."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That must be truly gratifying to the worthy Baronet,{1}' said Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "No doubt of it," continued Sparkle, "it must be a source of continued
      pleasure to find his labours have had so beneficial a result, having in
      all probability saved a whole family from destruction. Surely it may be
      said, that
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Among the idiot pranks of Wealth's abuse,
          None seem so monstrous, none have less excuse,
          Than those which throw an heritage away
          Upon the lawless chance of desperate play;
          Nor is there among knaves a wretch more base
          Than he who steals it with a smiling face,
          Who makes diversion to destruction tend,
          And thrives upon the ruin of a friend."
</pre>
    <p>
      &mdash;"Yet the Greek, like the swindler{l} and the horse jockey,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Swindler&mdash;Is a term originally derived from the German,
     Schwindel, which signifies merely to cheat. It was first
     introduced as a cant term, and used to signify obtaining of
     goods, credit, or money, under false pretences. It has since
     had a legislative adoption, being parliamentary recognised
     by an Act for the prevention of it. The artifices, schemes,
     and crimes, resorted to by these gentry, are so numerous,
     that it would be impossible to describe them all. One mode
     of practice, however, is not uncommon in London.

     Three or four swell Jews contrive to hire a large house with
     some spare rooms, in the City, that are turned into
     warehouses, in which are a number of casks, boxes, &amp;e.
     filled with sand; and also a quantity of large sugar-loaves
     in appearance, which are only clay done up in blue paper,
     but corded and made up with great nicety.

     An elegant Counting-house is likewise furnished with books
     and other apparatus, to deceive the eye and give the
     appearance of extensive business, great regularity, and
     large property. The Clerks in attendance are a set of Jews,
     who are privy to the scheme, and equally ready at fraud as
     those who profess to be the Principals.

     A Dining-room elegantly furnished upon the <i>mace</i>,* receives
     you

          * The Mace&mdash;Is a person who carries all the appearance of a
          great and rich man, with servants, carriages, &amp;c. for the
          purpose of defrauding tradesmen and others, by all manner of
          plans most calculated to entrap the parties they intend to
          dupe.

     whenever it is necessary to admit of your visits; a Black
     Servant opens the street-door, and the foot of the stair-
     case presents surtouts, boots, livery-cloths, a large blue
     coat with a yellow cape, and habiliments in which the
     opulent! array their servants. With these and similar
     merchant-like appearances Trade is commenced, and persons
     dispatched to provincial manufacturing towns, to buy various
     articles; for the amount of the first purchases, bills are
     drawn upon the Firm, and even before the goods are pack'd
     up, and sent according to order, the acceptances are paid,
     and, by this means, credit is partly established, which,
     once accomplished, they are in want of large assortments for
     exportation upon credit, at one, two, and three months. The
     goods are accordingly chosen and forwarded to their
     associates in London, where they are immediately disposed
     of at 20 or 30 per cent, cheaper than the prime cost, and
     the money realised. The first bills become due, are noted,
     and protested. The second are presented, but the House has
     stopped payment, and the Owners are bankrupts. By the time
     the third month's bills become due, the docket is struck,
     the Assignees chosen, and there is not sixpence in the pound
     left for the Creditors. Petitions are ineffectually
     presented to the Chancellor, for a number of fictitious
     Creditors, of the same profession and persuasion, over-swear
     the just ones, and by exceeding them in number and value,
     the House obtains its certificate, and has again the power
     of committing similar depredations.

     Perhaps the most daring and systematic proceeding of this
     kind was that lately detected in the conspiracy of Mosely
     Wolfe and his confederates, for which he is now suffering
     the sentence of the law.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[206]</span>prides himself on his success, boasts of
      his being <i>down as a nail</i>, and&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "<i>Down as a nail!</i>" said Bob, "I don't remember hearing that
      expression before."
    </p>
    <p>
      "<i>Down as a hammer, or Down as a nail</i>" continued Sparkle, "are cant
      or slang terms made use of among gamblers, and are synonimous with being
      up; and it must be confessed that there are many ups and downs amongst
      them. These flash words are well understood by many a young Greek, who
      perhaps knows nothing of the Greek Testament, although the use of them has
      proved in some cases beyond the comprehension of a Judge. Hence the
      necessity of knowing Life; for if a man gets familiarized with low life,
      he will necessarily be up, and consequently stand a great chance of being
      a rising genius. How proper it must be to know how to get a rise upon a
      fellow, or, in other words, to get him in a line!
    </p>
    <p>
      "A learned Judge once, examining a queer covy, a flash customer, or a rum
      fellow, asked him his reason for suspecting the prisoner at the bar of
      stealing a watch, (which among the lads is scientifically termed nimming a
      toiler, or <span class="pagenum">[207]</span>nabbing a clicker,) replied
      as follows:&mdash;'Why, your honour, only because you see as how I was up
      to him.'&mdash;'How do you mean, what is being up to him? '&mdash;' Why,
      bless your heart, I was down upon him, and had him bang.' But still
      perceiving the learned Gentleman's want of nous, he endeavoured to explain
      by saying, That he was <i>up to his gossip</i>,&mdash;that he stagged him,
      for he was not to be done&mdash;that he knew the trick, and was up the
      moment the chap came into the Cock and Hen Club, where he was tucking in
      his grub and bub.&mdash;Had the learned Judge been up himself, much time
      and trouble might have been saved; and indeed the importance of being down
      as a nail, to a man of fashion, is almost incalculable; for this reason it
      is, that men of high spirit think it no derogation from their dignity or
      rank, to be well acquainted with all the slang of the coachman and
      stable-boy, all the glossary of the Fancy, and all the mysterious language
      of the scamps, the pads, the divers, and all upon the lay, which, by an
      attentive and apt scholar, may easily be procured at a Gaming-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Of Hells in general, it may fairly be asserted, that they are infernally
      productive; no other line of business can be compared to these money
      mills, since they are all thriving concerns, the proprietors of which keep
      their country houses, extensive establishments, dashing equipages; and
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "While they have money they ride it in chaises.
          And look very big upon those that have none."
</pre>
    <p>
      "It certainly is a pity that men do not keep constantly in their
      recollection, that no calculation of chances can avail them, and that
      between the après, the limitation of stakes, and other manouvres, the
      table must eventually be an immense winner.
    </p>
    <p>
      "For Greeks stick at nothing to gain their own ends, And they sacrifice
      all their acquaintance and friends;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          And thus luckless P'&mdash;&mdash;n, to gain what he'd lost,
</pre>
    <p>
      Put his faith in a Greek, which he knows to his cost; Join'd a bank, as he
      thought, when the sly Greeking elf Of a friend soon contriv'd for to break
      it himself. You credulous pigeons! I would have you beware, Of falling
      yourselves in a similar snare."
    </p>
    <p>
      "We ought to consider ourselves greatly obliged," said Merry well, "for
      the accurate description of characters <span class="pagenum">[208]</span>you
      have given. But have you heard the report that is now in circulation, that
      a certain Marquis of high military celebrity, and whose property is, or
      was, very considerable, has lost almost his last shilling?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I," said Sparkle, "am seldom surprised at such rumours, particularly of
      persons who are known to be players, for they are rich and poor in rapid
      succession; but if there be any truth in the report, there is a fine
      example of perseverance before him&mdash;for Lord &mdash;&mdash;, after a
      long run of ill-luck, being refused the loan of an additional rouleau,{1}
      on account of his score being rather long, left the company in dudgeon,
      and determining on revenge, actually opened another Hell in opposition to
      the one he had left, and by that means recovered all his money."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That was well done," rejoined Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It was rather too much of a trading concern for a Lord," said Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not for a gambling Lord," replied Merry well; "for there is in fact
      nothing beneath a Greek, in the way of play: besides, it was a trying
      situation, and required some desperate attempt&mdash;they care not who
      they associate with, so they do but bring grist to the mill."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The confusion of persons and characters at a Gaming-house," said Sparkle,
      "are almost incredible, all ranks and descriptions are mingled together.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What confusion of titles and persons we see Amongst Gamesters, who spring
      out of every degree, From the prince to the pauper; all panting for play,
      Their fortune, their time, and their life pass away; Just as mingled are
      Pigeons, for 'tis no rebuke For a Greek to pluck all, from a Groom to a
      Duke."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is too true," said Dashall, "and equally as certain, that there are
      continually new comers ready and willing to be duped, or at least ready to
      risk their property, notwithstanding the warnings they have from their
      more experienced friends."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And is there no possibility of obtaining fair play?" inquired Bob, "or
      redress for being pigeon'd, as you term it?"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 A Rouleau&mdash;Is a packet containing one hundred guineas; but
     as guineas are not quite so fashionable in the present day
     as they formerly were, some of these Houses, for the
     accommodation of their customers, circulate guinea-notes
     upon their bankers.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[209]</span>"None," said Sparkle; "for if men will
      play at bowls, they must expect rubbers; and the system of confederacy is
      carried on every where, though perhaps with most success in those
      professed Gambling-houses, which young men of property ought carefully to
      avoid."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had reached the end of St. James's Street; it was
      therefore proposed by Sparkle that they should separate, particularly as
      it was growing late, or rather early in the morning; and, as they had been
      in some degree baffled in their attempt to take a minute survey of the
      proceedings in Pall Mall, they had no decided object in view. Accordingly
      they parted, Tom and Bob pursuing their way along Piccadilly, while
      Sparkle, Merrywell, and Mortimer, proceeded down Bond Street.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am by no means satisfied," said Tom, "with this evening's ramble, nor
      exactly pleased to find our friend Sparkle is getting so sentimental."
    </p>
    <p>
      "He is, at least," said Tallyho, "very communicative and instructive&mdash;I
      should feel less embarrassment at a future visit to one of those places,
      though, I can assure you, I should carefully avoid the chance of becoming
      a pigeon; but to know these things is certainly useful."
    </p>
    <p>
      "We must lay our plans better for the future," said Tom&mdash;"example is
      better than precept; and, as for Sparkle, I strongly suspect he is
      studying a part in All for Love, or the World well lost. That kind of
      study is too laborious for me, I can't bear to be fettered; or if it be
      true that it is what we must all come to, my time is not yet arrived.
      Though I confess Miss Mortimer has many attractions not to be overlooked
      by an attentive observer; at the same time I perceive this Mr. Merrywell
      is equally assiduous to obtain the young lady's favours."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had arrived at home, where, after partaking of
      refreshment, they retired to rest.<span class="pagenum">[210]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Cataracts of declamation thunder here,
          There, forests of no meaning spread the page,
          In which all comprehension wanders, lost,
          While fields of pleasantry amuse us there
          With many descants on a nation's woes.
          The rest appears a wilderness of strange,
          But gay confusion&mdash;roses for the cheeks,
          And lilies for the brows of faded age;
          Teeth for the toothless, ringlets for the bald,
          Heav'n, earth, and ocean, plunder'd of their sweets;
          Nectareous essences, Olympian dews,
          Sermons and City feasts, and fav'rite airs,
          Ethereal journeys, submarine exploits,
          And Katerfelto with his hair on end,
          At his own wonders wond'ring for his bread."
</pre>
    <p>
      "WELL," said Tom, "it must be confessed that a Newspaper is a most
      convenient and agreeable companion to the breakfast-table," laying down
      the <i>Times</i> as he spoke: "it is a sort of literary hotch-potch,
      calculated to afford amusement suited to all tastes, rank-, and degrees;
      it contains
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Tales of love and maids mistaken,
          Of battles fought, and captives taken."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Then, I presume," said Bob, "you have been gratified and interested in
      the perusal?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is impossible to look down the columns of a newspaper," replied Tom,
      "without finding subjects to impart light; and of all the journals of the
      present day, the <i>Times</i> appears to me the best in point of
      information and conduct; but I spoke of newspapers generally, there is
      such a mixture of the <i>utile et dulce</i>, that the Merchant and the
      Mechanic, the Peer, the Poet, the Prelate, and the Peasant, are all deeply
      concerned in its contents. In truth, a newspaper is so true a mark of the
      caprice of Englishmen, that it may justly be styled their coat of <span
      class="pagenum">[211]</span>arms. The Turkish Koran is not near so sacred
      to a rigid Mahometan&mdash;a parish-dinner to an Overseer&mdash;a
      turtle-feast to an Alderman, or an election to a Freeholder, as a Gazette
      or Newspaper to an Englishman: by it the motions of the world are watched,
      and in some degree governed&mdash;the arts and sciences protected and
      promoted&mdash;the virtuous supported and stimulated&mdash;the vicious
      reproved and corrected&mdash;and all informed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Consequently," said Bob, "a good Newspaper is really a valuable article."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Doubtless," continued Tom; "and John Bull&mdash;mistake me not, I don't
      mean the paper which bears that title&mdash;I mean the population of
      England, enjoy a Newspaper, and there are some who could not relish their
      breakfasts without one; it is a sort of general sauce to every thing, and
      to the <i>quid nunc</i> is indispensable&mdash;for if one informs him of a
      naval armament, he will not fail to toast the Admirals all round in pint
      bumpers to each, wishes them success, gets drunk with excessive loyalty,
      and goes with his head full of seventy-fours, sixty-fours, frigates,
      transports, fire-ships, &amp;c. In its diversified pages, persons of every
      rank, denomination, and pursuit, may be informed&mdash;the Philosopher,
      the Politician, the Citizen, the Handicraftsman, and the Gossip, are
      regaled by the novelty of its contents, the minuteness of its details, and
      the refreshing arrivals of transactions which occupy the attention of
      human beings at the greatest or nearest distances from us&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;a messenger of grief
          Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some:
          What is it but a map of life,
          Its fluctuations and its vast concerns?"
</pre>
    <p>
      It may with propriety be compared to the planetary system: the light which
      it diffuses round the mental hemisphere, operates according as it is seen,
      felt, understood, or enjoyed: for instance, the Miser is gladdened by an
      account of the rise of the stocks&mdash;the Mariner is rejoiced, at the
      safety of his vessel after a thunder-storm&mdash;the Manufacturer, to hear
      of the revival of foreign markets&mdash;the Merchant, that his cargo is
      safely arrived&mdash;the Member, that his election is secured&mdash;the
      Father, that his son is walling to return home&mdash;the Poet, that <span
      class="pagenum">[212]</span>his production has been favourably received by
      the public&mdash;the Physician, that a difficult cure is transmitting his
      fame to posterity&mdash;the Actor, that his talents are duly appreciated&mdash;the
      Agriculturist, that grain fetches a good price&mdash;the upright man, that
      his character is defended&mdash;the poor man, that beer, meat, bread, and
      vegetables, are so within his reach that he can assure himself of being
      able to obtain a good Sunday's dinner.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Tho' they differ in narrie, all alike, just the same, Morning Chronicle,
      Times, Advertiser, British Press, Morning Post, of News&mdash;what a host
      We read every day, and grow wiser; The Examiner, Whig&mdash;all alive to
      the gig, While each one his favourite chooses; Star, Traveller, and Sun,
      to keep up the fun, And tell all the world what the news is."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well done," said Bob, "you seem to have them all at your tongue's end,
      and their general contents in your head; but, for my part, I am struck
      with surprise to know how it is they find interesting matter enough at all
      times to fill their columns."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nothing more easy," continued Dashall, "especially for a newspaper whose
      contents are not sanctioned by authority; in which case they are so much
      the more the receptacle of invention&mdash;thence&mdash;We hear&mdash;it
      is said&mdash;a correspondent remarks&mdash;whereas, &amp;c&mdash;all
      which serve to please, surprise, and inform. We hear, can alter a man's
      face as the weather would a barometer&mdash;It is said, can distort
      another like a fit of the spasm&mdash;If, can make some cry&mdash;while
      Suppose, can make others laugh&mdash;but a Whereas operates like an
      electric shock; and though it often runs the extremity of the kingdom in
      unison with the rest, they altogether form a very agreeable mixture,
      occasionally interspersed, as opportunity offers, with long extracts from
      the last published novel, and an account of the prevailing fashions. But
      domestic occurrences form a very essential part of this folio: thus, a
      marriage hurts an old maid and mortifies a young one, while it consoles
      many a poor dejected husband, who is secretly pleased to find another
      fallen into his case&mdash;a death, if of a wife, makes husbands envy the
      widower, while, perhaps, some one of the women who censure his alleged
      want of <span class="pagenum">[213]</span>decent sorrow, marry him within
      a month after&mdash;in fact, every person is put in motion by a Newspaper.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Here various news is found, of love and strife;
          Of peace and war, health, sickness, death, and life;
          Of loss and gain, of famine and of store;
          Of storms at sea, and travels on the shore;
          Of prodigies and portents seen in air;
          Of fires and plagues, and stars with blazing hair;
          Of turns of fortune, changes in the state,
          The falls of favourites, projects of the great."
</pre>
    <p>
      "It is a bill of fare, containing all the luxuries as well as necessaries,
      of life. Politics, for instance, are the roast beef of the times; essays,
      the plum pudding; and poetry the fritters, confections, custards, and all
      the <i>et cotera</i> of the table, usually denominated trifles. Yet the
      four winds are not liable to more mutability than the vehicles of these
      entertainments; for instance, on Monday, it is whispered&mdash;on Tuesday,
      it is rumoured&mdash;on Wednesday, it is conjectured&mdash;on Thursday, it
      is probable&mdash;on Friday, it is positively asserted&mdash;and, on
      Saturday, it is premature. But notwithstanding this, some how or other,
      all are eventually pleased; for, as the affections of all are divided
      among wit, anecdote, poetry, prices of stocks, the arrival of ships, &amp;c.
      a Newspaper is a repository where every one has his hobby-horse; without
      it, coffee-houses, &amp;c. would be depopulated, and the country squire,
      the curate, the exciseman, and the barber, and many others, would lose
      those golden opportunities of appearing so very wise as they do.
    </p>
    <p>
      A Newspaper may also be compared to the Seasons. Its information varies on
      the roll of Time, and much of it passes away as a Winter, giving many a
      bitter pang of the death of a relative or hopeful lover; it is as a
      Spring, for, in the time of war and civil commotion, its luminary, the
      editor, like the morning sun, leads Hope forward to milder days and
      happier prospects&mdash;the smiles of peace; it is the heart's Summer
      calendar, giving news of marriages and births for heirs and patrons; it is
      the Autumn of joy, giving accounts of plenty, and guarding the avaricious
      against the snares of self-love, and offering arguments in favour of
      humanity. It is more; a Newspaper is one of the most faithful lessons that
      can be represented to our reflections, for, while it is the interpreter
      <span class="pagenum">[214]</span>of the general economy of nature, it is
      a most kind and able instructress to improve ourselves.
    </p>
    <p>
      What are our lives but as the ephemeral appearance of an advertisement?
      Our actions but as the actions of a popular contest? Our hopes, fears,
      exultations, but as the cross readings of diurnal events? And although
      grief is felt at the perusal of accidents, offences, and crimes, which are
      necessarily and judiciously given, there is in every good Newspaper an
      impartial record, an abstract of the times, a vast fund of useful
      knowledge; and, finally, no person has reason, after perusing it, to rise
      without being thankful that so useful a medium is offered to his
      understanding; at least, this is my opinion."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And now you have favoured me with this opinion," rejoined Tallyho, "will
      you be kind enough to inform me to what fortunate circumstance I am
      indebted for it?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "The question comes very apropos," continued Tom&mdash;"for I had nearly
      forgotten that circumstance, so that you may perhaps be inclined to
      compare my head to a newspaper, constantly varying from subject to
      subject; but no matter, a novelty has just struck my eye, which I think
      will afford us much gratification: it is the announcement of an exhibition
      of engravings by living artists, under the immediate patronage of his
      Majesty, recently opened in Soho Square, through the public spirited
      exertions of Mr. Cooke, a celebrated engraver&mdash;And now I think of it,
      Mortimer and his Sister intend visiting Somerset House&mdash;egad! we will
      make a morning of it in reviewing the Arts&mdash;what say you?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," returned Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Be it so, then," said Tom&mdash;"So-ho, my boy&mdash;perhaps we may meet
      the love-sick youth, poor Sparkle; he has certainly received the wound of
      the blind urchin&mdash;I believe we must pity him&mdash;but come, let us
      prepare, we will lounge away an hour in walking down Bond Street&mdash;peep
      at the wags and the wag-tails, and take Soho Square in our way to Somerset
      House. I feel myself just in the humour for a bit of gig, and 1 promise
      you we will make a night of it."
    </p>
    <p>
      The preliminaries of their route being thus arranged, in half an hour they
      were on their road down Bond Street, marking and remarking upon
      circumstances and subjects as they arose.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Who is that Lady?" said Bob, seeing Tom bow as a dashing carriage passed
      them.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That is a Lady Townley, according to the generally
    </p>
    <p>
      received term."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A lady of title, as I suspected," said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, yes," replied Tom Dashall, "a distinguished personage, I can assure
      you&mdash;one of the most dashing demireps of the present day, basking at
      this moment in the plenitude of her good fortune. She is however deserving
      of a better fate: well educated and brought up, she was early initiated
      into the mysteries and miseries of high life. You seem to wonder at the
      title I have given her."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am astonished again, I confess," replied Bob; "but it appears there is
      no end to wonders in London&mdash;nor can I guess how you so accurately
      know them."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Along residence in London affords opportunities for
    </p>
    <p>
      discovery.
    </p>
    <p>
      "As the French very justly say, that <i>Il n'y a que le premier pas qui
      coûte</i>, and just as, with all the sapience of medicine, there is but a
      degree betwixt the Doctor and the Student, so, after the first step, there
      is but a degree betwixt the Demirep and the gazetted Cyprian, who is known
      by head-mark to every insipid Amateur and Fancier in the town.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The number of these frail ones is so great, that, if I were to attempt to
      go through the shades and gradations, the distinctions and titles, from
      the promiscuous Duchess to the interested Marchande de mode, and from her
      down to the Wood Nymphs of the English Opera, there would be such a longo
      ordine génies, that although it is a very interesting subject, well worthy
      of investigation, it would occupy a considerable portion of time; however,
      I will give you a slight sketch of some well known and very topping
      articles. Mrs. B&mdash;&mdash;m, commonly called B&mdash;&mdash;g, Mrs. P&mdash;&mdash;n,
      and Mrs. H&mdash;&mdash;d, of various life. "The modern Pyrrha, B&mdash;&mdash;g,
      has a train as long as an eastern monarch, but it is a train of lovers.
      The Honourable B&mdash;&mdash; C&mdash;&mdash;n, that famous gentleman
      miller, had the honour at one time (like Cromwell,) of being the Protector
      of the Republic. The infamous Greek, bully, informer and reprobate W&mdash;&mdash;ce,
      was her accomplice and paramour at another. Lord V&mdash;&mdash;l boasted
      her favours at a third period; and she wished to look upon him in a
      fatherly <span class="pagenum">[216]</span>light; but it would not do. Mr.
      C. T. S. the nephew of a great naval character, is supposed to have a
      greater or prior claim there; but the piebald harlequin is owned not by
      "Light horse, but by heavy."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mr. P&mdash;&mdash;y, however, was so struck with the increased
    </p>
    <p>
      attractions of this Cyprian, that he offered to be her protector during a
      confinement which may be alarming to many, but interesting to a few. This
      was being doubly diligent, and accordingly as it was two to one in his
      favour, no wonder he succeeded in his suit. The difficulties which Madame
      laboured under were sufficient to decide her in this youth's favour; and
      the preference, upon such an occasion, must have been highly flattering to
      him. On the score of difficulties, Cyprians are quite in fashion; for
      executions and arrests are very usual in their mansions, and the last
      comer has the exquisite felicity of relieving them.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Although this dashing Lady was the daughter of a bathing woman at
      Brighton, she was not enabled to keep her head above water.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I must not forget Poll P&mdash;&mdash;n, whose select friends have such
      cause to be proud of lier election. This Diana is not descended from a
      member of the Rump Parliament, nor from a bum bailiff; but was the
      daughter of a bumboat woman at Plymouth. She has, however, since that
      period, commenced business for herself; and that in such a respectable and
      extensive line, that she counts exactly seven thousand customers! all
      regularly booked. What a delectable amusement to keep such a register! <i>Neanmoins</i>,
      or <i>nean plus</i>, if you like. It is reported that the noble Y&mdash;&mdash;
      was so delighted with her at the Venetian fête given by Messrs. W&mdash;ll&mdash;ms
      and D&mdash;h&mdash;r&mdash;ty, that he gave the Virgin Unmasked several
      very valuable presents, item, a shawl value one hundred guineas, &amp;c.
      and was honoured by being put on this Prime Minister of the Court of
      Love's list&mdash;number Seven thousand and one! What a fortunate man!
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mrs. H&mdash;&mdash;d is lineally descended, not from William the
      Conqueror, but from W&mdash;&mdash;s the coachman. She lived, for a
      considerable time, in a mews, and it was thought that it was his love for
      the <i>Muses</i> which attached C&mdash;&mdash; L&mdash;&mdash; so closely
      to her. She was seduced at a most indelicately juvenile age by a Major M&mdash;&mdash;l,
      who protected her but a short time, and then deserted her. Then <span
      class="pagenum">[217]</span>she became what the Cyprians term Lady Townly,
      till Mr. H&mdash;&mdash;d, a youth with considerable West India property
      in expectation, married her.
    </p>
    <p>
      "On this happy occasion, her hymeneal flame burned with so much warmth and
      purity, that she shared it with a linen-draper, and the circumstance
      became almost immediately known to the husband! This was a happy presage
      of future connubial felicity! The very day before this domestic exposure,
      and the happy vigil of Mr. H&mdash;&mdash;d's happier "<i>jour des noces</i>,"
      the darling of the Muses or Mewses, Mr. L&mdash;&mdash; procured Lady H&mdash;&mdash;d's
      private box for her at one of the theatres, whither she and Mrs. CI&mdash;&mdash;y,
      the mistress of an officer of that name, repaired in the carriage of the
      Mews lover, which has become completely "the Demirep or Cyprian's
      Diligence," and these patterns for the fair sex had poured out such
      plentiful libations to Bacchus, that her ladyship's box exhibited the
      effects of their devotions! What a regale for the Princess of Madagascar!
    </p>
    <p>
      "The guardians, or trustees, of Mr. H&mdash;&mdash;d now withheld his
      property, and Madame assisted him into the King's Bench, during which time
      she kept terms with Mr. L&mdash;&mdash; at Oxford. On her return, she got
      acquainted with a Capt. Cr&mdash;&mdash;ks, whom she contrived soon
      afterwards to lodge, in the next room to her husband, in the Bench; but to
      whom she kindly gave the preference in her visits.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Whether C&mdash;&mdash; L&mdash;&mdash;, W&mdash;lk&mdash;s the
      linen-draper, or Capt. C&mdash;&mdash;k, be the most favoured swain, or
      swine, I venture not to say; but the former has devoted his time, his
      chariot, and his female acquaintances' boxes in public to her. As a pledge
      of his love, she helped herself to a loose picture of great value
      belonging to him, which very nearly fell into the hands of John Doe or
      Richard Roe, on her husband's account, afterwards. The palm should,
      however, certainly be given to Mr. L&mdash;&mdash;, as he courted her
      classically, moralized to her sentimentally, sung psalms and prayed with
      her fervently, and, on all occasions, treated her like a lady."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha," said a fashionably dressed young man, who approached towards
      Dashall, "Ha, my dear fellow, how goes it with you? Haven't seen you this
      month; d&mdash;&mdash;d unlucky circumstance&mdash;wanted you very much
      indeed&mdash;glorious sport&mdash;<i>all jolly and bang up</i>." <span
      class="pagenum">[218]</span>"Glad to hear it," said Tom,&mdash;"sorry you
      should have experienced any wants on my account."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Which way are you going? Come along, I'll tell you of such a spree&mdash;regular,
      and nothing but&mdash;You must know, a few days ago, sauntering down
      Bond-street, I overtook Sir G. W. 'Ha! my gay fellow,' said he, 'I thought
      you were at Bibury; you're the very man I want. My brother Jack has lost a
      rump and dozen to a young one, and we want to make up a select party, a
      set of real hardheaded fellows, to share the feast. I have already
      recruited Sir M. M., the buck Parson, Lord Lavender, and Tom Shuffleton.
      Then there's yourself, I hope, my brother and I, the young one, and A&mdash;&mdash;'s
      deputy, the reprobate Curate, whom we will have to make fun of. We dine at
      half-past seven, at Long's, and there will be some sport, I assure you.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "I accepted the invitation, and met the company before mentioned. A rump
      and dozen is always a nominal thing. There was no rump, except Lavender's,
      which projects like a female's from the bottom of a tight-laced pair of
      stays; and as for the dozen, I believe we drank nearer three dozen of
      different expensive wines, which were tasted one after the other with a
      quickness of succession, which at last left no taste, but a taste for more
      drink, and for all sorts of wickedness.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This tasting plan is a very successful trick of tavern keepers, which
      enables them to carry off half bottles of wine, to swell the reckoning
      most amazingly, and so to bewilder people as to the qualities of the wine,
      that any thing, provided it be strong and not acid, will go down at the
      heel of the evening. It is also a grand manouvre; to intoxicate a Johnny
      Raw, and to astonish his weak mind with admiration for the founder of the
      feast. Therefore, the old trick of 'I have got some particularly
      high-flavoured Burgundy, which Lord Lavender very much approved t'other
      day;' and, 'Might I, Sir, ask your opinion of a new importation of
      Sillery?' or, 'My Lord, 1 have bought all the Nabob's East India Madeira,'
      &amp;c. was successfully practised.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Through the first course we were stag-hunting, to a man, and killed the
      stag just as the second course came on the table. This course was occupied
      by a great number of long shots of Sir M. M., and by Lavender offering to
      back himself and the buck Parson against any other two <span
      class="pagenum">[219]</span>men in England, as to the number of head of
      game which they would bag from sun-rise to sun-set upon the moors. A foot
      race, and a dispute as to the odds betted on the second October Meeting,
      occupied the third course. The desert was enlivened by a list of ladies of
      all descriptions, whose characters were cut up full as ably as the haunch
      of venison was carved; and here boasting of success in love was as general
      as the custom is base. One man of fashion goes by the name of Kiss and
      tell.
    </p>
    <p>
      "After an hour of hard drinking, as though it had been for a wager, a
      number of very manly, nice little innocent and instructive amusements were
      resorted to. We had a most excellent maggot race for a hundred; and then a
      handycap for a future poney race. We had pitching a guinea into a
      decanter, at which the young one lost considerably. We had a raffle for a
      gold snuff box, a challenge of fifty against Lord Lavender's Dusseldorf
      Pipe, and five hundred betted upon the number of shot to be put into a Joe
      Manton Rifle. We played at <i>te-to-tum</i>; and the young one leaped over
      a handkerchief six feet high for a wager: he performed extremely well at
      first, but at last Lavender, who betted against him, kept plying him so
      with wine, and daring him to an inch higher and higher, until at last the
      young one broke his nose, and lost five hundred guineas by his boyish
      diversion.
    </p>
    <p>
      Now we had a fulminating letter introduced as a hoax upon Shuffleton;
      next, devils and broiled bones; then some blasphemous songs from the
      Curate, who afterwards fell asleep, and thus furnished an opportunity for
      having his face blacked. We then got in a band of itinerant musicians; put
      crackers in their pockets; cut off one fellow's tail; and had a milling
      match betwixt the baronet in the chair and the stoutest of them, who,
      having had spirits of wine poured over his head, refused to let the candle
      be put to it!
    </p>
    <p>
      Peace being restored, a regular supper appeared; and then a regular set-to
      at play, where I perceived divers signals thrown out, such as rubbing of
      foreheads and chins, taking two pinches of snuff and other private
      telegraphic communications, the result of which was, the young one, just
      of age, being greeked to a very great amount.
    </p>
    <p>
      We now sallied forth, like a pack in full cry, with all the loud
      expression of mirth and riot, and proceeded to <span class="pagenum">[220]</span>old
      77, which, being shut up, we swore like troopers, and broke the parlour
      windows in a rage. We next cut the traces of a hackney coach, and led the
      horses into a mews, ?where we tied them up; coachee being asleep inside
      the whole time. We then proceeded to old <i>Ham-a-dry-ed</i>, the bacon
      man's, called out Fire, and got the old man down to the door in his shirt,
      when Lavender ran away with his night-cap, and threw it into the water in
      St. James's Square, whilst the Baronet put it in right and left at his
      sconce, and told him to hide his d&mdash;&mdash;d ugly masard. This
      induced him to come out and call the Watch, during which time the buck
      Parson got into his house, and was very snug with the cook wench until the
      next evening, when <i>old fusty mug</i> went out upon business.
    </p>
    <p>
      After giving a view holloa! we ran off, with the Charleys in full cry
      after us, when Sir G. W., who had purposely provided himself with a long
      cord, gave me one end, and ran to the opposite side of Jermyn Street with
      the other in his hand, holding it about two feet from the pavement. The
      old Scouts came up in droves, and we had 'em down in a moment, for every
      mother's son of the guardians were caught in the trap, and rolled over
      each other slap into the kennel. Never was such a prime bit of gig! They
      lay stunn'd with the fall&mdash;broken lanterns, staves, rattles, Welsh
      wigs, night-caps and old hats, were scattered about in abundance, while
      grunting, growling, and swearing was heard in all directions. One old buck
      got his jaw-bone broken; another staved in two of his crazy timbers, that
      is to say, broke a couple of ribs; a third bled from the nose like a pig;
      a fourth squinted admirably from a pair of painted peepers; their numbers
      however increasing, we divided our forces and marched in opposite
      directions; one party sallied along Bond Street, nailed up a snoosy
      Charley in his box, and bolted with his lantern: the others were not so
      fortunate, for A&mdash;&mdash;'s deputy cushion thumper, the young one,
      and the Baronet's brother, got safely lodged in St. James's Watch-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Broad daylight now glar'd upon us&mdash;Lavender retired comfortably upon
      Madame la Comtesse in the Bench; Sir M. M. was found chanting Cannons with
      some Wood nymphs not an hundred and fifty miles off from Leicester Square;
      I had the President to carry home on my shoulders, bundled to bed, and
      there I lay sick for four and twenty hours, when a little inspiring Coniac
      brought <span class="pagenum">[221]</span>me to my senses again, and now I
      am ready and ripe for another spree. Stap my vitals if there isn't
      Lavender&mdash;my dear fellow, adieu&mdash;remember me to Charley Sparkle
      when you see him&mdash;by, by." And with this he sprung across the road,
      leaving Bob and his Cousin to comment at leisure upon his folly.
    </p>
    <p>
      They were however soon aroused from their reflections by perceiving a
      Groom in livery advancing rapidly towards them, followed by a curricle,
      moving at the rate of full nine miles per hour.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Who have we here?" said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A character well known," said Tom; "that is Lady L&mdash;&mdash;, a
      dashing female whip of the first order&mdash;mark how she manages her tits&mdash;take
      a peep at her costume and learn while you look."
    </p>
    <p>
      "More than one steed must Delia's empire feel Who sits triumphant o'er the
      flying wheel; And as she guides it through th' admiring throng, With what
      an air she smacks the silken thong!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The Lady had a small round riding-hat, of black beaver, and sat in the
      true attitude of a coachman&mdash;wrists pliant, elbows square, she
      handled her whip in a scientific manner; and had not Tom declared her sex,
      Bob would hardly have discovered it from her outward appearance. She was
      approaching them at a brisk trot, greeting her numerous acquaintance as
      she passed with familiar nods, at each giving her horses an additional
      touch, and pursing up her lips to accelerate their speed; indeed, she was
      so intent upon the management of her reins, and her eyes so fixed upon her
      cattle, that there was no time for more than a sort of sidelong glance of
      recognition; and every additional smack of the whip seem'd to say, "<i>Here
      I come&mdash;that's your sort</i>." Her whole manner indeed was very
      similar to what may be witnessed in Stage-coachmen, Hackneymen, and
      fashionable Ruffians, who appear to think that all merit consists in
      copying them when they tip a brother whip the go-by, or almost graze the
      wheel of a Johnny-raw, and turn round with a grin of self-approbation, as
      much as to say&mdash;"<i>What d'ye think of that now, eh f&mdash;there's a
      touch for you&mdash;lord, what a flat you must be!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob gazed with wonder and astonishment as she passed.
    </p>
    <p>
      "How?" said he, "do the ladies of London frequently take the whip?&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[222]</span>"&mdash;Hand of their husbands as well
      as their horses," replied Tom&mdash;"often enough, be assured."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But how, in the name of wonder, do they learn to drive in this style?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Easily enough; inclination and determination will accomplish their
      objects. Why, among the softer sex, we have female Anatomists&mdash;female
      Students in Natural History&mdash;Sculptors, and Mechanics of all
      descriptions&mdash;Shoe-makers and Match-makers&mdash;and why not
      Charioteers?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay, I am not asking why; but as it appears rather out of the common way,
      I confess my ignorance has excited my curiosity on a subject which seems
      somewhat out of nature."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have before told you, Nature has nothing to do with Real Life in
      London."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And yet," continued Bob, "we are told, and I cannot help confessing the
      truth of the assertion, with respect to the ladies, that
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;Loveliness
          Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
          But is, when unadorned, adorn'd the most,"
          This certainly implies a natural or native grace."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Pshaw," said Dashall, "that was according to the Old school; such
      doctrines are completely exploded now-a-days, for Fashion is at variance
      with Nature in all her walks; hence, driving is considered one of the
      accomplishments necessary to be acquired by the female sex in high life,
      by which an estimate of character may be formed: for instance&mdash;if a
      lady take the reins of her husband, her brother, or a lover, it is
      strongly indicative of assuming the mastery; but should she have no
      courage or muscular strength, and pays no attention to the art of
      governing and guiding her cattle, it is plain that she will become no
      driver, no whip, and may daily run the risk of breaking the necks of
      herself and friends. If however she should excel in this study, she
      immediately becomes masculine and severe, and she punishes, when occasion
      requires, every animal within the reach of her lash&mdash;acquires an
      ungraceful attitude and manner&mdash;heats her complexion by over exertion&mdash;sacrifices
      her softness to accomplish her intentions&mdash;runs a risk of having hard
      hands, and perhaps a hard heart: at all events she gains unfeminine
      habits, and <span class="pagenum">[223]</span>such as are found very
      difficult to get rid of, and prides herself on being the go, the gaze, the
      gape, the stare of all who see her."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A very admirable, and no doubt equally happy state," quoth Bob, half
      interrupting him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "If she learn the art of driving from the family coachman, it cannot be
      doubted but such tuition is more than likely to give her additional grace,
      and to teach her all that is polite; and then the pleasure of such company
      whilst superintending her studies, must tend to improve her mind; the
      freedom of these teachers of coachmanship, and the language peculiar to
      themselves, at first perhaps not altogether agreeable, is gradually worn
      away by the pride of becoming an accomplished whip&mdash;to know how to <i>turn
      a corner in style&mdash;tickle Snarler in the ear&mdash;cut up the yelper&mdash;take
      out a fly's eye in bang-up twig</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Excellent! indeed," cried Bob, charmed with Dashall's irony, and willing
      to provoke it farther; "and pray, when this art of driving is thoroughly
      learned, what does it tend to but a waste of time, a masculine enjoyment,
      and a loss of feminine character&mdash;of that sweet, soft and
      overpowering submission to and reliance on the other sex, which, whilst it
      demands our protection and assistance, arouses our dearest sympathies&mdash;our
      best interests&mdash;attaches, enraptures, and subdues us?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nonsense," continued Tom, "you might ask such questions for a month&mdash;who
      cares about these submissions and reliances&mdash;protections and
      sympathies&mdash;they are not known, at least it is very unfashionable to
      acknowledge their existence. Why I have known ladies so infatuated and
      affected by an inordinate love of charioteering, that it has completely
      altered them, not only as to dress, but manners and feeling, till at
      length they have become more at home in the stable than the drawing-room;
      and some, that are so different when dressed for dinner, that the driving
      habiliments appear like complete masquerade disguises. Indeed, any thing
      that is natural is considered quite out of nature; and this affectation is
      not wholly confined to the higher circles, for in the City even the men
      and the women seem to have changed places.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Man-milliners and mantua-makers swarm
          With clumsy hands to deck the female form&mdash;
          With brawny limbs to fit fine ladies' shapes,
          Or measure out their ribbons, lace and tapes;
          Or their rude eye the bosom's swell surveys,
          To cut out corsets or to stitch their stays;
          Or making essences and soft perfume,
          Or paint, to give the pallid cheek fresh bloom;
          Or with hot irons, combs, and frizzling skill,
          On ladies' heads their daily task fulfil;
          Or, deeply versed in culinary arts,
          Are kneading pasty, making pies and tarts;
          Or, clad in motley coat, the footman neat
          Is dangling after Miss with shuffling feet,
          Bearing in state to church her book of pray'r,
          Or the light pocket she disdains to wear;{1}
          Or in a parlour snug, 'the powdered lout
          The tea and bread and butter hands about.
          Where are the women, whose less nervous hands
          Might fit these lighter tasks, which pride demands?
          Some feel the scorn that poverty attends,
          Or pine in meek dépendance on their friends;
          Some patient ply the needle day by day,
          Poor half-paid seamsters, wasting life away;
          Some drudge in menial, dirty, ceaseless toil,
          Bear market loads, or grovelling weed the soil;
          Some walk abroad, a nuisance where they go,
          And snatch from infamy the bread of woe."
</pre>
    <p>
      "It is a strange sort of infatuation, this fashion," said Bob, "and it is
      much to be regretted it should operate so much to the injury of the fair&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you see that young man on the opposite side of the way,"inquired
      Dashall,(stopping him short) "in nankin breeches and jockey-boots?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I do," replied Tallyho; "and pray who is he?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "The son of a wealthy Baronet who, with an eye to the main chance in early
      life, engaged in some mercantile speculations, which proving productive
      concerns, have elevated him to his present dignity, beyond which it is
      said he cannot go on account of his having once kept a shop. This son is
      one of what may be termed the <i>Ciphers of society</i>, a sort of useful
      article, like an 0 in arithmetic, to denominate numbers; one of those
      characters, if character it may be termed, of which this Metropolis and
      its vicinity would furnish us with regiments. Indeed, the
    </p>
    <p>
      1 It is related that a young lady of <i>haut ton</i> in Paris was observed
      to have a tall fellow always following her wherever she went. Her
      grandmother one day asked her what occasion there was for that man to be
      always following her; to which she replied&mdash;"I must blow my nose,
      must not I, when I want?" This great genius was actually employed to carry
      her pocket-handkerchief. <span class="pagenum">[225]</span>general run of
      Fashionables are little better than Ciphers,&mdash;very necessary at times
      in the House of Commons, to suit the purposes and forward the intentions
      of the Ministers, by which they obtain <i>titles</i> to which they are not
      <i>entitled,</i> and transmit to posterity a race of ennobled boobies.
      What company, what society does not abound with Ciphers, and oftentimes in
      such plenty that they are even serviceable to make the society
      considerable? What could we do to express on paper five hundred without
      the two ciphers, or being compelled to write eleven letters to explain
      what is equally well done in three figures? These Ciphers are useful at
      general meetings upon public questions, though, if they were all collected
      together in point of intellectual value, they would amount to nought. They
      are equally important as counters at a card-table, they tell for more than
      they are worth. Among the City Companies there are many of them to be
      found: and the Army is not deficient, though great care is generally taken
      to send the most conspicuous Ciphers on foreign service. Public offices
      under Government swarm with them; and how many round O's or ciphers may be
      found among the gentlemen of the long robe, who, as Hudibras observes,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;never ope
          Their mouths, but out there flies a trope."
</pre>
    <p>
      In the twelve Judges it must be allowed there is no cipher, because they
      have two figures to support them; but take these two figures away, and the
      whole wit of mankind may be defied to patch up or recruit the number
      without having recourse to the race of Ciphers.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have known a Cipher make a profound Statesman and a Secretary&mdash;nay,
      an Ambassador; but then it must be confess'd it has been by the timely and
      prudent application of proper supporters; and it is certain, that Ciphers
      have more than once shewn themselves significant in high posts and
      stations, and in more reigns than one. Bounteous nature indulges mankind
      in a boundless variety of characters as well as features, and has given
      Ciphers to make up numbers, and very often by such additions renders the
      few much more significant and conspicuous. The Church has its Ciphers&mdash;for
      a mitre looks as well on a round 0 as on any letter in the alphabet, <span
      class="pagenum">[226]</span>and the expense to the nation is equally the
      same; consequently, John Bull has no right to complain.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "See in Pomposo a polite divine,
          More gay than grave, not half so sound as fine;
          The ladies' parson, proudly skill'd is he,
          To 'tend their toilet and pour out their tea;
          Foremost to lead the dance, or patient sit
          To deal the cards out, or deal out small wit;
          Then oh! in public, what a perfect beau,
          So powder'd and so trimm'd for pulpit show;
          So well equipp'd to tickle ears polite
          With pretty little subjects, short and trite.
          Well cull'd and garbled from the good old store
          Of polish'd sermons often preached before;
          With precious scraps from moral Shakespeare brought.
          To fill up awkward vacancies of thought,
          Or shew how he the orator can play
          Whene'er he meets with some good thing to say,
          Or prove his taste correct, his memory strong,
          Nor let his fifteen minutes seem too long:
          His slumbering mind no knotty point pursues,
          Save when contending for his tithes or dues."
</pre>
    <p>
      Thus far, although it must be allowed that ciphers are of use, it is not
      every cipher that is truly useful. There are Ciphers of indolence, to
      which some mistaken men give the title of men of fine parts&mdash;there
      are Ciphers of Self-interest, to which others more wrongfully give the
      name of Patriots&mdash;there are Bacchanalian Ciphers, who will not leave
      the bottle to save the nation, but will continue to guzzle till no one
      figure in Arithmetic is sufficient to support them&mdash;then there are
      Ciphers of Venus, who will abandon all state affairs to follow a Cyprian,
      even at the risk of injuring a deserving wife&mdash;Military Ciphers, who
      forsake the pursuit of glory, and distrustful of their own merit or
      courage, affirm their distrust by a sedulous attendance at the levees of
      men of power. In short, every man, in my humble opinion, is no other than
      a Cipher who does not apply his talents to the care of his morals and the
      benefit of his country."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You have been ciphering for some time," said Boh, "and I suppose you have
      now finished your sum."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess," continued Tom, "it has been a puzzling one&mdash;for, to make
      something out of nothing is impossible."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not in all cases," said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "How so?&mdash;why you have proved it by your own shewing, that these
      nothings are to be made something of."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[227]</span>"I perceive," replied Tom, "that your
      acquaintance with Sparkle is not thrown away upon you; and it argues well,
      for if you are so ready a pupil at imbibing his lessons, you will soon
      become a proficient in London manners and conversation; but a Cipher is
      like a <i>round robin</i>,{1} it has neither beginning nor end: its centre
      is vacancy, its circle ambiguity, and it stands for nothing, unless in
      certain connections."
    </p>
    <p>
      They were now proceeding gently along Oxford Street, in pursuit of their
      way to Soho Square, and met with little worthy of note or remark until
      they arrived near the end of Newman Street, where a number of workmen were
      digging up the earth for the purpose of making new-drains. The pathway was
      railed from the road by scaffolding poles strongly driven into the ground,
      and securely tied together to prevent interruption from the passengers.&mdash;Tom
      was remarking upon the hardihood and utility of the labourers at the
      moment when a fountain of water was issuing from a broken pipe, which
      arose as high as a two pair of stairs window, a circumstance which quickly
      drew a number of spectators around, and, among the rest, Tom and his
      Cousin could not resist an inclination to spend a few minutes in viewing
      the proceedings.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Irish <i>jontlemen</i>, who made two or three ineffectual attempts to
      stop the breach, alternately got soused by the increased violence of the
      water, and at every attempt were saluted by the loud laughter of the
      surrounding multitude.
    </p>
    <p>
      To feelings naturally warm and irritable, these vociferations of amusement
      and delight at their defeat, served but to exasperate and enrage; and the
      Irishmen in strong terms expressed their indignation at the merriment
      which their abortive attempts appeared to excite: at length, one of the <i>Paddies</i>
      having cut a piece of wood, as he conceived, sufficient to stop the
      effusion of water, with some degree of adroitness thrust his arm into the
      foaming fluid, and for a moment appeared to have arrested its progress.
    </p>
    <p>
      "<i>Blood-an-owns!</i> Murphy," cried he, "scoop away the water, and be
      after handing over the mallet this way." In a moment the spades of his
      comrades were seen in
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Round Rubin&mdash;A Letter or Billet, so composed as to have
     the signatures of many persons in a circle, in order that
     the reader may not be able to discover which of the party
     signed first or last.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[228]</span>action to accomplish his instructions,
      while one, who was not in a humour to hear the taunts of the crowd, very
      politely scoop'd the water with his hands among the spectators, which
      created a general desire to avoid his liberal and plentiful besprinklings,
      and at the same time considerable confusion among men, women, and
      children, who, in effecting their escape, were seen tumbling and rolling
      over each other in all directions.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Be off wid you all, and be d&mdash;&mdash;d to you," said the Hibernian;
      while those who were fortunate enough to escape the cooling fluid he was
      so indifferently dispensing, laughed heartily at their less favoured
      companions.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob was for moving onward.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hold," said Dash all, "it is two to one but you will see some fun here."
    </p>
    <p>
      He had scarcely said the word, when a brawny Porter in a fustian jacket,
      with his knot slung across his shoulder, manifested dislike to the manner
      in which the Irish <i>jontleman</i> was pursuing his amusement.
    </p>
    <p>
      "D&mdash;&mdash;n your Irish eyes," said he, "don't throw your water here,
      or I'll lend you my <i>bunch of fives</i>." {l}
    </p>
    <p>
      "Be after being off, there," replied Pat; and, without hesitation,
      continued his employment.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Porter was resolute, and upon receiving an additional salute, jumped
      over the railings, and re-saluted poor Pat with a <i>muzzier</i>,{2} which
      drew his claret in a moment. The Irishman endeavoured to rally, while the
      crowd cheered the Porter and hooted the Labourer. This was the signal for
      hostilities. The man who had plugg'd up the broken pipe let go his hold,
      and the fountain was playing away as briskly as ever&mdash;all was
      confusion, and the neighbourhood in alarm. The workmen, with spades and
      pick-axes, gathered round their comrade, and there was reason to apprehend
      serious mischief would occur; one of them hit the Porter with his spade,
      and several others were prepared to follow his example; while a second,
      who seem'd a little more blood-thirsty than the rest, raised his pickaxe
      in a menacing attitude; upon perceiving which, Dashall jump'd over the
      rail and
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Bunch of fives&mdash;A flash term for the fist, frequently made
     use of among the lads of the Fancy, who address each other
     some-times in a friendly way, with&mdash;Ha, Bill, how goes it?&mdash;
     tip us your bunch of fives, my boy.

     2 Muzzier&mdash;A blow on the mouth.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[229]</span>arrested his arm, or, if the blow had
      been struck, murder must have ensued. In the mean time, several other
      persons, following Tom's example, had disarmed the remainder. A
      fellow-labourer, who had been engaged at a short distance, from the
      immediate scene of action, attacked the man who had raised the pickaxe,
      between whom a pugilistic encounter took place, the former swearing, 'By
      Jasus, they were a set of cowardly rascals, and deserved <i>quilting</i>.'{1}
      The water was flowing copiously&mdash;shovels, pickaxes, barrows, lanterns
      and other implements were strewed around them&mdash;the crowd increased&mdash;Tom
      left the combatants (when he conceived no real danger of unfair advantage
      being taken was to be apprehended) to enjoy their rolling in the mud;
      while the Porter, who had escaped the vengeance of his opponents, was
      explaining to those around him, and expostulating with the first
      aggressor, upon the impropriety of his conduct. The shouts of the
      multitude at the courageous proceedings of the Porter, and the hootings at
      the shameful and cowardly manner of defence pursued by the Labourers,
      roused the blood of the Irishmen, and one again seized a spade to attack a
      Coal-heaver who espoused the cause of the Porter&mdash;a disposition was
      again manifested to cut down any one who dared to entertain opinions
      opposite to their own&mdash;immediately a shower of mud and stones was
      directed towards him&mdash;the spade was taken away, and the Irishmen
      armed themselves in a similar way with the largest stones they could find
      suitable for throwing. In this state of things, the houses and the windows
      in the neighbourhood were threatened with serious damage. The crowd
      retreated hallooing, shouting, hissing, and groaning; and in this part of
      the affray Bob got himself well bespattered with mud. Tom again
      interfered, and after a few minutes, persuaded the multitude to desist,
      and the Irishmen to drop their weapons. The Porter made his escape, and
      the men resumed their work; but, upon Dashall's return to the
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Quilting&mdash;To quilt a person among the knowing Covies, is
     to give another a good thrashing; probably, this originated
     in the idea of warming&mdash;as a quilt is a warm companion, so a
     set-to is equally productive of heat; whether the allusion
     holds good with respect to comfort, must be left to the
     decision of those who try it on, (which is to make any
     attempt or essay where success is doubtful.)
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[230]</span>spot where he had left Tallyho, the
      latter was not to be found; he was however quickly relieved from suspense.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Sir," said a stout man, "the neighbourhood is greatly indebted to your
      exertions in suppressing a riot from which much mischief was to be
      apprehended&mdash;your friend is close at hand, if you will step this way,
      you will find him&mdash;he is getting his coat brushed at my house, and
      has sustained no injury."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is a lucky circumstance for him," said Tom: "and I think myself
      fortunate upon the same account, for I assure you I was very apprehensive
      of some serious mischief resulting from the disturbance."<span
      class="pagenum">[231]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Blest be the pencil which from death can save
          The semblance of the virtuous, wise and brave,
          That youth and emulation still may gaze
          On those inspiring forms of ancient days,
          And, from the force of bright example bold,
          Rival their worth, and be what they behold."

          ".....I admire,
          None more admires the painter's magic skill,
          Who shews me that which I shall never see,
          Conveys a distant country into mine,
          And throws Italian light on British walls."
</pre>
    <p>
      AS they entered the house, a few doors up Newman Street, Tallyho met them,
      having divested himself of the mud which had been thrown upon his garments
      by the indiscriminating hand of an enraged multitude; and after politely
      thanking the gentleman for his friendly accommodation, they were about to
      proceed to the place of their original destination; when Dashall,
      perceiving an elegantly dressed lady on the opposite side of the way,
      felt, instinctively as it were, for the usual appendage of a modern
      fashionable, the quizzing-glass; in the performance of this he was
      subjected to a double disappointment, for his rencontre with the
      Hibernians had shivered the fragile ornament to atoms in his pocket, and
      before he could draw forth the useless fragments, the more important
      object of his attention was beyond the power of his visual orbs.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It might have been worse," said he, as he survey'd the broken bauble: "it
      is a loss which can easily be repaired, and if in losing that, I have
      prevented more serious mischief, there is at least some consolation.
      Apropos, here is the very place for supplying the defect without loss of
      time. Dixon," {1} continued he, looking at
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This gentleman, whose persevering endeavours in his
     profession entitle him to the patronage of the public,
     without pretending to second sight, or the powers that are
     so frequently attributed to the seventh son of a seventh
     son, has thrown some new lights upon the world. Although he
     does not pretend to make "Helps to Read," his establishment
     at No. 93, Newman Street, Oxford Road, of upwards of thirty
     years' standing, is deservedly celebrated for glasses suited
     to all sights, manufactured upon principles derived from
     long study and practical experience. Indeed, if we are to-
     place any reliance on his Advertisements, he has brought
     them to a state of perfection never before attained, and not
     to be surpassed.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[232]</span>the name over the door&mdash;"aye, I
      remember to have seen his advertisements in the papers, and have no doubt
      I may be suited here to a <i>shaving</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon saying this, they entered the house, and found the improver of
      spectacles and eye-glasses surrounded with the articles of his trade, who,
      in a moment, recognized Tom as the chief instrument in quelling the
      tumult, and added his acknowledgments to what had already been offered for
      his successful exertions, assuring him at the same time, that as he
      considered sight to be one of the most invaluable blessings "bestowed on
      mankind, he had for many years devoted the whole of his time and attention
      to the improvement of glasses&mdash;put into his hand a short treatise on
      the subject, and on the important assistance which may be afforded by a
      judicious selection of spectacles to naturally imperfect or overstrained
      eyes. Bob, in the mean time, was amusing himself with reading bills,
      pamphlets, and newspapers, which lay upon the counter.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall listened with attention to his dissertation on sight, spectacles,
      focusses, lens, reflection, refraction, &amp;c.; but, as he was not
      defective in the particular organs alluded to, felt but little interested
      on the subject; selected what he really wanted, or rather what etiquette
      required, when, to their great gratification, in came Sparkle. After the
      first salutations were over, the latter purchased an opera-glass; then, in
      company with Tom and Bob, proceeded to Oxford Street, and upon learning
      their destination, determined also to take a peep at the Exhibition.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come along," said Tom, catching hold of his arm, and directing him
      towards Soho Square. But Sparkle recollecting that he had appointed to
      meet Miss Mortimer, her Brother, and Merry well, to accompany them to
      Somerset House, and finding time had escaped with more <span
      class="pagenum">[233]</span>rapidity than he expected, wished them a good
      morning, hoped they should meet again in the course of the day, and
      departed.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You see," said Tom, "Sparkle is fully engaged in the business of love;
      Miss Mortimer claims all his attention for the present."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You appear to be very envious of his enjoyments," replied Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not so, indeed," continued Tom; "I am only regretting that other pursuits
      have estranged him from our company."
    </p>
    <p>
      On entering the Exhibition at Soho, Tom, whose well-known taste for
      science and art, and particularly for the productions of the pencil and
      graver, had already rendered him conspicuous among those who knew him,
      made the following remarks: "I am really glad," said he, "to find that the
      eminent engravers of our country have at length adopted a method of
      bringing at one view before the public, a delineation of the progress made
      by our artists in a branch so essentially connected with the performance
      and durability of the Fine Arts. An Exhibition of this kind is well
      calculated to dispel the vulgar error, that engraving is a servile art in
      the scale of works of the mind, and mostly consigned to the copyist. An
      Establishment of this kind has long been wanted, and is deserving of
      extensive patronage."
    </p>
    <p>
      Having secured Catalogues, they proceeded immediately to the gratifying
      scene.{1} The disposition and arrangement
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The major part of the 405 subjects and sets of subjects,
     consisting of about 800 prints, are of moderate size, or
     small engravings for descriptive or literary publications,
     &amp;e. They are the lesser diamonds in a valuable collection of
     jewellery, where there are but few that are not of lucid
     excellence, and worthy of glistening in the diadem of
     Apollo, or the cestus of Venus. So indeed they have, for
     here are many subjects from ancient and modern poetry, and
     other literature, and from portraits of beautiful women.
     Among the first class, the exquisitely finishing graver of
     Mr. Warren gives us many after the designs of Messrs.
     Westall, Wilkie, Smirke, Cooke, Uwins, and Corbould; as do
     the lucid gravers of Messrs. Englehart and Rhodes, the
     nicely executing hands of Messrs. Mitan, Romney, Finden,
     Robinson, &amp;c. Among the latter class, are <i>Anna Boleyn</i>, &amp;c.
     by Mr. Scriven, who marks so accurately the character of the
     objects, and of the Painter he works from, in his well
     blended dot and stroke; Mrs. Hope, by Dawe; many lovely
     women, by Mr. Reynolds; a Courtship, by Mr. Warren, from
     Terburg, in the Marquis of Stafford's Collection; two Mary
     Queen of Scots, by Messrs. Warren and Cooper.&mdash;&mdash;From
     pictures of the old and modern Masters, are capital
     Portraits of celebrated characters of former and present
     times; of Mrs. Siddons, of Cicero, M. Angelo, Parmigiano,
     Fenelon, Raleigh, A. Durer, Erasmus, Cromwell, Ben Jonson,
     Selden, Swift, Gay, Sterne, Garrick, &amp;c. of Byron,
     Bonaparte, West, Kenible, young Napoleon, of nearly all the
     English Royal Family, and many of the Nobility.

     &mdash;&mdash;Of all the charmingly engraved Landscapes of foreign
     and home Views, and of the Animal pieces, are many from
     Messrs. W. B. and G. Cooke's recent publications of The
     Coast of England, &amp;c. of Mr. Hakewell's Italy, Mr. Nash's
     Paris, Captain Batty's France, &amp;c. Mr. Neale's Vieios, many
     of Mr. Scott's and Mr. Milton's fine Animal Prints;
     exquisitely engraved Architecture by Mr. Le Keaux, Mr.
     Lowry, Mr. G. Cooke, &amp;c. Among the large Prints are the two
     last of Mr. Holloway's noble set from Raffaelle's Cartoons;
     the Battle of Leipzig, finely executed by Mr. Scott, and
     containing Portraits of those monstrous assailers of Italy
     and of the common rights of mankind, the Emperors of Austria
     and Russia; Jaques from Shakspeare, by Mr. Middiman,
     Reynolds' Infant Hercules by Mr. Ward, The Bard, by J.
     Bromley, jun. possessing the energy of the original by the
     late President Mr. West, and The Poacher detected, by Mr.
     Lupton, from Mr. Kidd's beautiful picture.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[234]</span>of the plates, and the company dispersed
      in various parts of the rooms, were the first objects of attention, and
      the whole appearance was truly pleasing. At one end was to be seen an old
      Connoisseur examining a most beautiful engraving from an excellent drawing
      by Clennell{1}&mdash;-another contemplating the brilliance of Goodall in
      his beautiful print of the Fountains of Neptune in the Gardens of
      Versailles. Dash all, who generally took care to see all before him,
      animate and inanimate, was occasionally
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Luke Clennell&mdash;This unfortunate artist, a native of
     Morpeth, in Northumberland, and known to the world as an
     eminent engraver on wood, as well as a painter of no
     ordinary talent, has furnished one of those cases of human
     distress and misery which calls for the sympathy and aid of
     every friend to forlorn genius. In the midst of a
     prosperous career, with fortune "both hands full," smiling
     on every side, munificently treated by the British
     Institution, employed on an important work by the Earl of
     Bridgewater (a picture of the Fête given by the City of
     London to the Allied Sovereigns,) and with no prospect but
     that delightful one of fame and independence, earned by his
     own exertions, the most dreadful affliction of life befel
     him, and insanity rooted where taste and judgment so
     conspicuously shone. The wretched artist was of necessity
     separated from his family; his young wife, the mother of his
     three infants, descended to the grave a broken-hearted
     victim, leaving the poor orphans destitute. The Print
     alluded to in this case, representing the Charge of the Life
     Guards at Waterloo in 1816, was published by subscription
     for their benefit.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[235]</span>casting glimpses at the pictures and the
      sprightly females by which they were surrounded, and drawing his Cousin to
      such subjects as appeared to be most deserving of attention; among which,
      the fine effect produced by Mr. W. B. Cooke stood high in his estimation,
      particularly in his View of Edinburgh from Calton Hill, and Brightling
      Observatory in Rose Hill&mdash;Le Keux, in his Monument, also partook of
      his encomiums&mdash;T. Woolroth's Portraits, particularly that of the
      Duchess of Kent, claimed attention, and was deservedly admired, as well as
      a smaller one of Mr. Shalis by the same artist; indeed, the whole appeared
      to be selected, combined and arranged under the direction of a master, and
      calculated at once to surprise and delight. After enjoying an hour's
      lounge in this agreeable company,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Dashall, "we will repair to Somerset House, and amuse
      ourselves with colours.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Halloo!" said a smart looking young man behind them&mdash;"<i>what am you
      arter?&mdash;where is you going to?</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon turning round, Dashall discovered it to be the exquisite Mr.
      Mincingait, who, having just caught a glimpse of him, and not knowing what
      to do with himself, hung as it were upon the company of Tom and his
      friend, by way of killing a little time; and was displaying his person and
      apparel to the greatest advantage as he pick'd his way along the pavement,
      alternately picking his teeth and twirling his watch-chain. Passing the
      end of Greek Street, some conversation having taken place upon the dashing
      Society in which he had spent the previous evening, Tom indulged himself
      in the following description of <i>How to Cut a Dash.</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dashing society," said he, "is almost every where to be found in London:
      it is indeed of so much importance among the generality of town residents,
      that a sacrifice of every thing that is dear and valuable is frequently
      made to appearance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are a quiz," said Mincingait; "but I don't mind you, so go your
      length."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very well," continued Tom; "then by way of instruction to my friend, I
      will give my ideas upon the subject, and if perchance you should find any
      resemblance to yourself in the picture I am about to draw, don't let all
      the world know it. If you have an inclination to cut a dash, situation and
      circumstances in life have nothing to <span class="pagenum">[236]</span>do
      with it; a good bold face and a stock of assurance, are the most essential
      requisites. With these, you must in the first place fall upon some method
      to trick a tailor (provided you have not certain qualms that will prevent
      you) by getting into his debt, for much depends upon exteriors. There is
      no crime in this, for you pay him if you are able&mdash;and good clothes
      are very necessary for a dash; having them cut after the newest fashion,
      is also very essential. Sally forth, if on a sunday morning in quest of a
      companion with whom you have the night previous (at a tavern or
      confectioner's) engaged to meet at the corner. After having passed the
      usual compliments of the morning with him, place yourself in a fashionable
      attitude, your thumbs thrust in your pantaloon's pockets&mdash;the right
      foot thrown carelessly across the left, resting on the toe, exhibits your
      line turned ancle, or new boot, and is certainly a very modest attitude&mdash;your
      cravat finically adjusted, and tied sufficiently tight to produce a fine
      full-blooming countenance: corsets and bag pantaloons are indispensably
      necessary to accoutre you for the stand. When in this trim, dilate upon
      the events of the times&mdash;know but very little of domestic affairs&mdash;expatiate
      and criticise upon the imperfections or charms of the passing multitude&mdash;tell
      a fine story to some acquaintance who knows but little about you, and, by
      this means, borrow as much money as will furnish you with a very small
      bamboo, or very large cudgel; extremes are very indispensable for a good
      dash.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is extremely unbecoming for a gentleman of fashion to pay any regard
      to that old superstitious ceremony of what is commonly called '<i>going to
      church'</i>&mdash;or, at most, of attending more than half a day in the
      week. To attend public worship more than one hour in seven days must be
      very fatiguing to a person of genteel habits&mdash;besides it would be
      countenancing an old established custom. In former times, a serious and
      devout attention to divine service was not thought improper; but should a
      gentleman of modern manners attend public worship, to discover, according
      to the law of the polite, what new face of fashion appears, I need not
      mention the absurdity of decent behaviour.
    </p>
    <p>
      'What go to meeting, say?&mdash;why this the vulgar do, Yes, and it is a
      custom old as Homer too! Sure, then, we folks of fashion must with this
      dispense, Or differ in some way from folks of common sense.'
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[237]</span>"Melodious, indeed, are the voices of
      ladies and gentlemen whispering across the pews, politely inquiring after
      each other's health&mdash;the hour at which they got home from their
      Saturday evening's party&mdash;what gallants attended them; and what
      lasses they saw safe home. How engaging the polite posture of looking on
      the person next you, or in sound sleep, instead of sacred music, playing
      loud bass through the nose! But to have proceeded methodically in
      enumerating the improvements in manners, I ought, first, to have mentioned
      some of the important advantages of staying from church until the service
      is half finished. Should you attend at the usual hour of commencing
      service, you might be supposed guilty of rising in the morning as early as
      nine or ten o'clock, and by that means be thought shockingly ungenteel&mdash;and
      if seated quietly in the pew, you might possibly remain unnoticed; but, by
      thundering along the aisle in the midst of prayer or sermon, you are
      pretty sure to command the attention of the audience, and obtain the
      honour of being thought by some, to have been engaged in some genteel
      affair the night before! Besides, it is well known that it is only the
      vulgar that attend church in proper time.
    </p>
    <p>
      "When you parade the streets, take off your hat to every gentleman's
      carriage that passes; you may do the same to any pretty woman&mdash;for if
      she is well bred, (you being smartly dressed) she will return the
      compliment before she be able to recollect whether your's be a face she
      has seen somewhere or not; those who see it, will call you a dashing
      fellow. When a beggar stops you, put your hand in your pocket, and tell
      him you are very sorry you have no change; this, you know, will be
      strictly true, and speaking truth is always a commendable quality;&mdash;or,
      if it suits you better, bid him go to the churchwarden&mdash;this you may
      easily do in a dashing way. Never think of following any business or
      profession,&mdash;such conduct is unworthy of a dasher. In the evening,
      never walk straight along the foot-way, but go in a zigzag direction&mdash;this
      will make some people believe you have been dashing down your bottle of
      wine after dinner. No dasher goes home sober.
    </p>
    <p>
      "On making your appearance in the ball-room, put your hat under your arm:
      you will find an advantage in this, as it will make a stir in the room to
      make way for you and your hat, and apprize them of your entrance.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[238]</span>After one or two turns around the room,
      if the sets are all made up, make a stand before one of the mirrors, to
      adjust your cravat, hair, &amp;c. Be sure to have your hair brushed all
      over the forehead, which will give you a very ferocious appearance. If you
      catch a strange damsel's eyes fixed upon you, take it for granted that you
      are a fascinating fellow, and cut a prodigious dash. As soon as the first
      set have finished.dancing, fix your thumbs as before-mentioned, and make a
      dash through the gaping crowd in pursuit of a partner; if you are likely
      to be disappointed in obtaining one with whom you are acquainted, select
      the smallest child in the room; by that means, you will attract the
      attention of the ladies, and secure to you the hand of a charming Miss for
      the next dance. When on the floor with one of those dashing belles,
      commence a <i>tête-a-tête</i> with her, and pay no attention whatever to
      the figure or steps, but walk as deliberately as the music will admit (not
      dropping your little chit chat) through the dance, which is considered,
      undoubtedly, very graceful, and less like a mechanic or dancing-master.
      The dance finished, march into the bar, and call for a glass of blue-ruin,
      white-tape, or stark-naked, which is a very fashionable liquor among the
      'ton,' and if called on to pay for it, tell the landlord you have left
      your purse in one of your blues at home; and that you will recollect it at
      the next ball&mdash;this, you know, can be done in a genteel way, and you
      will be 'all the go.' Return into the room, and either tread upon some
      gentleman's toes, or give him a slight touch with your elbow: which, if he
      be inclined to resent, tell him, 'pon lionour,' you did not observe him,
      or, if inclined to suffer it with impunity&mdash;' Get out of the way,
      fellow, d&mdash;&mdash;n you.'
    </p>
    <p>
      On your way home, after escorting your fair inamorata to her peaceful
      abode, make a few calls for the purpose of taking a little more stimulus
      with some particular friends, and then return home for the night to 'steep
      your senses in forgetfulness.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "A very amusing and useful account, truly," said Bob, as his Cousin closed
      his chapter of instructions How to Cut a Dash.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is, at least, a just and true delineation of living character."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not without a good portion of caricature," said Mincingait. "You are
      downright scurrilous, and ought not to be tolerated in civilized society.
      Sink me, if you <span class="pagenum">[239]</span>are not quite a bore,
      and not fit company for a Gentleman. so I shall wish you a good morning."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom and Bob laughed heartily at this declaration of the Dashing Blade,
      and, wishing him a pleasant walk and a safe return, they separated.
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had arrived at Somerset House: it was near three
      o'clock, and the Rooms exhibited a brilliant crowd of rank and fashion,
      which considerably enhanced the value of its other decorations.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have already," said Dashall, "given you a general description of this
      building, and shall therefore confine my present observations wholly to
      the establishment of the Royal Academy for the encouragement of the Fine
      Arts, for the cultivation of which London is now much and deservedly
      distinguished; and to the progressive improvement in which we are indebted
      to that Exhibition we have already witnessed. This Academy was opened by
      Royal Charter in 1768; and it consists of forty members, called Royal
      Academicians, twenty Associates, and six Associate Engravers. The first
      President was the justly celebrated Sir Joshua Reynolds; the second, the
      highly respected Benjamin West; and the present, is Sir Thomas Lawrence.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Academy possesses a fine collection of casts and models, from antique
      statues, &amp;c. a School of colouring, from pictures of the best masters.
      Lectures are delivered by the stated Professors in their various branches,
      to the Students during the winter season; prize medals are given annually
      for the best academy figures and drawings of buildings; and gold medals
      for historical composition in painting, sculpture, and designs in
      Architecture, once in two years; which latter are presented to the
      successful Artists in full assembly, accompanied with a discourse from the
      President, calculated to stimulate perseverance and exertion. Students
      have at all times, (except during the regular vacations,) an opportunity
      of studying nature from well chosen models, and of drawing from the
      antique casts.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This Exhibition is generally opened on the first of May. The number of
      works of art, consisting of paintings, sculptures, models, proof
      engravings and drawings, generally exhibited, are upwards of one thousand;
      and are usually visited by all the gaiety and fashion of the Metropolis,
      between the hours of two and five o'clock in <span class="pagenum">[240]</span>the
      day. The rooms are elegant and spacious; and I consider it at all times a
      place where a shilling may be well spent, and an hour or two well enjoyed.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Some spend a life in classing grubs, and try,
          New methods to impale a butterfly;
          Or, bottled up in spirits, keep with care
          A crowd of reptiles&mdash;hideously rare;
          While others search the mouldering wrecks of time,
          And drag their stores from dust and rust and slime;
          Coins eat with canker, medals half defac'd,
          And broken tablets, never to be trac'd;
          Worm-eaten trinkets worn away of old,
          And broken pipkins form'd in antique mould;
          Huge limbless statues, busts of heads forgot,
          And paintings representing none knows what;
          Strange legends that to monstrous fables lead,
          And manuscripts that nobody can read;
          The shapeless forms from savage hands that sprung,
          And fragments of rude art, when Art was young.
          This precious lumber, labell'd, shelv'd, and cas'd,
          And with a title of Museum grac'd,
          Shews how a man may time and fortune waste,
          And die a mummy'd connoisseur of taste."
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page240.jpg" alt="Page240 Somerset House " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      On entering the rooms, Bob was bewildered with delight; the elegance of
      the company, the number and excellence of the paintings, were attractions
      so numerous and splendid, as to leave him no opportunity of decidedly
      fixing his attention. He was surrounded by all that could enchant the eye
      and enrapture the imagination. Moving groups of interesting females were
      parading the rooms with dashing partners at their elbows, pointing out the
      most beautiful paintings from the catalogues, giving the names of the
      artists, or describing the subjects. Seated on one of the benches was to
      be seen the tired Dandy, whose principal inducement to be present at this
      display of the Arts, was to exhibit his own pretty person, and attract a
      little of the public gaze by his preposterous habiliments and unmeaning
      countenance; to fasten upon the first person who came within the sound of
      his scarcely articulate voice with observing, "It is d&mdash;&mdash;d hot,
      'pon honour&mdash;can't stand it&mdash;very fatiguing&mdash;I wonder so
      many persons are let in at once&mdash;there's no such thing as seeing, I
      declare, where there is such a crowd: I must come again, that's the end of
      it." On another, was the full-dressed Elegante, with her bonnet in one
      hand, and her catalogue in the other, apparently intent upon examining the
      pictures before <span class="pagenum">[241]</span>her, while, in fact, her
      grand aim was to discover whether she herself was observed. The lounging
      Blood, who had left his horses at the door, was bustling among the company
      with his quizzing-glass in his hand, determined, if possible, to have a
      peep at every female he met, caring as much for the Exhibition itself, as
      the generality of the visitors cared for him. The Connoisseur was placing
      his eye occasionally close to the paintings, or removing to short
      distances, right and left, to catch them in the most judicious lights, and
      making remarks on his catalogue with a pencil; and Mrs. Roundabout, from
      Leadenhall, who had brought her son Dicky to see the show, as she called
      it, declared it was the '<i>most finest</i> sight she ever seed, lifting
      up her hand and eyes at the same time as Dicky read over the list, and
      charmed her by reciting the various scraps of poetry inserted in the
      catalogue to elucidate the subjects. It was altogether a source of
      inexpressible delight and amusement. Tom, whose taste for the arts
      qualified him well for the office of guide upon such an occasion, directed
      the eye of his Cousin to the best and most masterly productions in the
      collection, and whose attention was more particularly drawn to the
      pictures (though occasionally devoted to the inspection of a set of
      well-formed features, or a delicately turned ancle,) was much pleased to
      find Bob so busy in enquiry and observation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We have here," said Tom, "a combination of the finest specimens in the
      art of painting laid open annually for public inspection. Music, Poetry,
      and Painting, have always been held in high estimation by those who make
      any pretensions to an improved mind and a refined taste. In this
      Exhibition the talents of the Artists in their various lines may be fairly
      estimated, and the two former may almost be said to give life to the
      latter, in which the three are combined. The Historian, the Poet, and the
      Philosopher, have their thoughts embodied by the Painter; and the tale so
      glowingly described in language by the one, is brought full before the eye
      by the other; while the Portrait-painter hands down, by the vivid touches
      of his pencil, the features and character of those who by their talents
      have deservedly signalized themselves in society. The face of nature is
      displayed in the landscape, and the force of imagination by the judicious
      selector of scenes from actual life. Hence painting is the fascinating
      region of enchantment. The pencil is a magic wand; it calls up <span
      class="pagenum">[242]</span>to view the most extensive and variegated
      scenery calculated to wake the slumbering mind to thought.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;To mark the mighty hand
          That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres,
          Works in the secret deep; shoots steaming thence
          The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring;
          Flings from the sun direct the naming day;
          Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth;
          And as on earth this grateful change revolves.
          With transport touches all the springs of life."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Upon my life!" cried Bob, "we seem to have no need of Sparkle now, for
      you are endeavouring to imitate him."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your observations maybe just, in part," replied Tom; "but I can assure
      you I have no inclination to continue in the same strain. At the same
      time, grave subjects, or subjects of the pencil and graver, are deserving
      of serious consideration, except where the latter are engaged in
      caricature."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And that has its utility," said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "To be sure it has," continued Tom&mdash;"over the human mind, wit, humour
      and ridicule maintain authoritative influence. The ludicrous images which
      flit before the fancy, aided by eccentric combinations, awaken the risible
      powers, and throw the soul into irresistible tumults of laughter. Who can
      refrain from experiencing risible emotions when he beholds a lively
      representation of Don Quixote and Sancho Pança&mdash;Hudibras and his
      Ralpho&mdash;merry old Falstaff shaking his fat sides, gabbling with Mrs.
      Quickly, and other grotesque figures to be found in the vast variety of
      human character? To lash the vices and expose the follies of mankind, is
      the professed end of this species of painting.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Satire has always shone among the rest;
          And is the boldest way, if not the best,
          To tell men freely of their foulest faults."
</pre>
    <p>
      Objects well worthy of attention&mdash;like comedy&mdash;may degenerate,
      and become subservient to licentiousness and profligacy; yet the shafts of
      ridicule judiciously aimed, like a well-directed artillery, do much
      execution. With what becoming severity does the bold Caricature lay open
      to public censure the intrigues of subtle Politicians, the <span
      class="pagenum">[243]</span>chicanery of corrupted Courts, and the
      flattery of cringing Parasites! Hence satirical books and prints, under
      temperate regulations, check the dissoluteness of the great. Hogarth's
      Harlot's and Rake's Progress have contributed to reform the different
      classes of society&mdash;nay, it has even been doubted by some, whether
      the Sermons of a Tillotson ever dissuaded so efficaciously from lust,
      cruelty, and intemperance, as the Prints of an Hogarth. Indeed it may with
      truth be observed, that the art of Painting is one of those innocent and
      delightful means of pleasure which Providence has kindly offered to
      brighten the prospects of life: under due restriction, and with proper
      direction, it may be rendered something more than an elegant mode of
      pleasing the eye and the imagination; it may become a very powerful
      auxiliary to virtue."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I like your remarks very well," said Bob; "but there is no such thing as
      paying proper attention to them at present; besides, you are moralizing
      again."
    </p>
    <p>
      "True," said Tom, "the subjects involuntarily lead me to moral conclusions&mdash;there
      is a fine picture&mdash;Nature blowing Bubbles for her Children, from the
      pencil of Hilton; in which is united the simplicity of art with allegory,
      the seriousness of moral instruction and satire with the charms of female
      and infantine beauty; the graces of form, action, colour and beauty of
      parts, with those of collective groups; and the propriety and beauty of&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      He was proceeding in this strain, when, turning suddenly as he supposed to
      Tallyho, he was not a little surprised and confused to find, instead of
      his Cousin, the beautiful and interesting Miss Mortimer, at his elbow,
      listening with close attention to his description.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Miss Mortimer," continued he&mdash;which following immediately in
      connection with his last sentence, created a buz of laughter from Sparkle,
      Merrywell, and Mortimer, who were in conversation at a short distance, and
      considerably increased his confusion.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very gallant, indeed," said Miss Mortimer, "and truly edifying. These
      studies from nature appear to have peculiar charms for you, but I
      apprehend your observations were not meant for my ear."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I was certainly not aware," continued he, "how much I was honoured; but
      perceiving the company you are in, I am not much astonished at the trick,
      and undoubtedly <span class="pagenum">[244]</span>have a right to feel
      proud of the attentions that have been paid to my observations."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time the party was increased by the arrival of Col. B&mdash;&mdash;,
      his daughter Maria, and Lady Lovelace, who, with Sparkle's opera glass in
      her hand, was alternately looking at the paintings, and gazing at the
      company. Sparkle, in the mean time, was assiduous in his attentions to
      Miss Mortimer, whose lively remarks and elegant person excited general
      admiration.
    </p>
    <p>
      The first greetings of such an unexpected meeting were followed by an
      invitation on the part of the Colonel to Tom and Bob to dine with them at
      half past six.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho excused himself upon the score of a previous engagement; and a
      wink conveyed to Tom was instantly understood; he politely declined the
      honour upon the same ground, evidently perceiving there was more meant
      than said; and after a few more turns among the company, and a survey of
      the Pictures, during which they lost the company of young Mortimer and his
      friend Merry well, (at which the Ladies expressed themselves disappointed)
      they, with Sparkle, assisted the females into the Colonel's carriage,
      wished them a good morning, and took their way towards Temple Bar.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am at a loss," said Dashall, "to guess what you meant by a prior
      engagement; for my part, I confess I had engaged myself with you, and
      never felt a greater inclination for a ramble in my life."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," said Bob, "I'll tell you&mdash;Merry well and Mortimer had
      determined to give the old Colonel and his company the slip; and I have
      engaged, provided you have no objection, to dine with them at the Globe in
      Fleet Street, at half past four. They are in high glee, ready and ripe for
      fun, determined to beat up the eastern quarters of the town."
    </p>
    <p>
      "An excellent intention," continued Tom, "and exactly agreeable to my own
      inclinations&mdash;we'll meet them, and my life on't we shall have a merry
      evening. It is now four&mdash;we will take a walk through the temple, and
      then to dinner with what appetite we may&mdash;so come along. You have
      heard of the Temple, situated close to the Bar, which takes its name. It
      is principally occupied by Lawyers, and Law-officers, a useful and
      important body of men, whose lives are devoted to the study and practice
      of the law of the land, to keep peace and harmony among the <span
      class="pagenum">[245]</span>individuals of society, though there are,
      unfortunately, too many pretenders to legal knowledge, who prey upon the
      ignorant and live by litigation{1}&mdash;such as persons who have
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 In a recent meeting at the Egyptian Hall, a celebrated
     Irish Barrister is reported to have said, that 'blasphemy
     was the only trade that prospered.' The assertion, like many
     others in the same speech, was certainly a bold one, and one
     which the gentleman would have found some difficulty in
     establishing. If, however, the learned gentleman had
     substituted the word law for blasphemy, he would have been
     much nearer the truth.

     Of all the evils with which this country is afflicted, that
     of an excessive passion for law is the greatest. The sum
     paid annually in taxes is nothing to that which is spent in
     litigation. Go into our courts of justice, and you will
     often see sixty or seventy lawyers at a time; follow them
     home, and you will find that they are residing in the
     fashionable parts of the town, and living in the most
     expensive manner. Look at the lists of the two houses of
     parliament, and you will find lawyers predominate in the
     House of Commons; and, in the upper house, more peers who
     owe their origin to the law, than have sprung from the army
     and navy united. There is scarcely a street of any
     respectability without an attorney, not to mention the
     numbers that are congregated in the inns of court. In London
     alone, we are told, there are nearly three thousand
     certificated attornies, and in the country they are numerous
     in proportion.

     While on the subject of lawyers, we shall add a few
     unconnected anecdotes, which will exhibit the difference
     between times past and present.

     In the Rolls of Parliament for the year 1445, there is a
     petition from two counties in England, stating that the
     number of attornies had lately increased from sixteen to
     twenty-four, whereby the peace of those counties had been
     greatly interrupted by suits. And it was prayed that it
     might be ordained, that there should only be six attornies
     for the county of Norfolk, the same number for Suffolk, and
     two for the city of Norwich.

     The profits of the law have also increased in proportion. We
     now frequently hear of gentlemen at the bar making ten or
     fifteen thousand pounds a year by their practice; and a
     solicitor in one single suit, (the trial of Warren Hastings)
     is said to have gained no less than thirty-five thousand
     pounds! How different three centuries ago, when Roper, in
     his life of Sir Thomas More, informs us, that though he was
     an advocate of the greatest eminence, and in full business,
     yet he did not by his profession make above four hundred
     pounds per annum. There is, however, a common tradition on
     the other hand, that Sir Edward Coke's gains, at the latter
     end of this century, equalled those of a modern attorney
     general; and, by Lord Bacon's works, it appears that he made
     6000L. per annum whilst in this office. Brownlow's profits,
     likewise, one of the prothonotaries during the reign of
     Queen Elizabeth, were 6000L. per annum; and he used to close
     the profits of the year with a <i>laus deo</i>; and when they
     happened to be extraordinary,&mdash;<i>maxima laus deo</i>.

     There is no person, we believe, who is acquainted with the
     important duties of the Judges, or the laborious nature of
     their office, will think that they are too amply
     remunerated; and it is not a little remarkable, that when
     law and lawyers have increased so prodigiously, the number
     of the Judges is still the same. Fortescue, in the
     dedication of his work, De Laudibus Legum Anglise, to Prince
     Edward, says that the Judges were not accustomed to sit more
     than three hours in a day; that is, from eight o'clock in
     the morning until eleven; they passed the remainder of the
     day in studying the laws, and reading the Holy Scriptures.

     Carte supposes, that the great reason for the lawyers
     pushing in shoals to become members of Parliament, arose
     from their desire to receive the wages then paid them by
     their constituents. By an act of the 5th of Henry IV.
     lawyers were excluded from Parliament, not from a contempt
     of the common law itself, but the professors of it, who, at
     this time, being auditors to men of property, received an
     annual stipend, <i>pro connlio impenso et impendendo</i>, and
     were treated as retainers. In Madox's Form. Anglican, there
     is a form of a retainer during his life, of John de Thorp,
     as counsel to the Earl of Westmoreland; and it appears by
     the Household Book of Algernon, fifth Earl of
     Northumberland, that, in the beginning of the reign of Henry
     the Eighth, there was, in that family, a regular
     establishment for two counsellors and their servants.

     A proclamation was issued on the 6th of November, in the
     twentieth year of the reign of James I. in which the voters
     for members of Parliament are directed, "not to choose
     curious and wrangling lawyers, who may seek reputation by
     stirring needless questions."

     A strong prejudice was at this time excited against lawyers.
     In Aleyn's Henry VIII. (London, 1638,) we have the following
     philippic against them:&mdash;

          "A prating lawyer, (one of those which cloud
          That honour'd science,) did their conduct take;
          He talk'd all law, and the tumultuous crowd
          Thought it had been all gospel that he spake.
          At length, these fools their common error saw,
          A lawyer on their side, but not the law."

     Pride the drayman used to say, that it would never be well
     till the lawyers' gowns, like the Scottish colours, were
     hung up in Westminster Hall.

     From Chaucer's character of the Temple Manciple, it would
     appear that the great preferment which advocates in this
     time chiefly aspired to, was to become steward to some great
     man: he says,&mdash;"

          "Of masters he had mo than thryis ten,
          That were of law expert and curious,
          Of which there were a dozen in that house,
          Worthy to ben stuards of house and londe,
          Of any lord that is in Englonde."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[246]</span>been employed as clerks to Pettifoggers,
      who obtain permission to sue in their names; and persons who know no more
      of law than what they have learned in Abbot's Park,{1} or on board the
      Fleet,{2} who assume the title of Law Agents or Accountants, and are
      admirably fitted for Agents in the Insolvent Debtor's Court under the
      Insolvent Act, to make out Schedules, &amp;c. Being up to all the arts and
      manouvres practised with success for the liberation of themselves, they
      are well calculated to become tutors of others, though they generally take
      care to be well paid for it."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they were entering the Temple. "This," continued Tom, "is an
      immense range of buildings, stretching from Fleet-street to the river,
      north and south; and from Lombard-street, Whitefriars, to Essex-street in
      the Strand, east and west.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It takes its name from its being founded by the Knights Templars in
      England. The Templars were crusaders, who, about the year 1118, formed
      themselves into a military body at Jerusalem, and guarded the roads for
      the safety of pilgrims. In time the order became very powerful. The
      Templars in Fleet-street, in the thirteenth century, frequently
      entertained the King, the Pope's nuncio, foreign ambassadors, and other
      great personages.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is now divided into two societies of students, called the Inner and
      Middle Temple, and having the name of Inns of Court.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These societies consist of Benchers, Barristers, Students, and Members.
      The government is vested in the Benchers. In term time they dine in the
      hall of the society, which is called keeping commons. To dine a fortnight
      in each term, is deemed keeping the term; and twelve of these terms
      qualify a student to be called to year of Henry the Sixth, when Sir Walter
      Beauchamp, as counsel, supported the claim of precedence of the Earl of
      Warwick, against the then Earl Marshal, at the bar of the House of Lords.
      Mr. Roger Hunt appeared in the same capacity for the Earl Marshal, and
      both advocates, in their exordium, made most humble protestations,
      entreating the lord against whom they were retained, not to take amiss
      what they should advance on the part of their own client.
    </p>
    <p>
      Another point on which the lawyers of the present age differ from their
      ancestors, is in their prolixity. It was reserved for modern invention to
      make a trial for high treason last eight days, or to extend a speech to
      nine hours duration.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          1 Abbot's Park&mdash;The King's Bench.

          2 On board the Fleet&mdash;The Fleet Prison.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[248]</span>"These societies have the following
      officers and servants: a treasurer, sub-treasurer, steward, chief butler,
      three under-butlers, upper and under cook, a pannierman, a gardener, two
      porters, two wash-pots, and watchmen.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Benchers assume and exercise a power that can scarcely be reconciled
      to the reason of the thing. They examine students as to their proficiency
      in the knowledge of the law, and call candidates to the bar, or reject
      them at pleasure, and without appeal. It is pretty well known that
      students in some cases eat their way to the bar; in which there can be no
      great harm, because their clients will take the liberty afterwards of
      judging how far they have otherwise qualified themselves. But every man
      that eats in those societies should be called, or the rejection should be
      founded solely on his ignorance of the law, and should be subject to an
      appeal to a higher jurisdiction; otherwise the power of the Benchers may
      be exercised on private or party motives.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The expence of going through the course of these Societies is not great.
      In the Inner Temple, a student pays on admission, for the fees of the
      society, 3L. 6s. 8d. which, with other customary charges, amounts to 4L
      2s. A duty is also paid to the King, which is high. Terms may be kept for
      about 10s. per week, and, in fact, students may dine at a cheaper rate
      here than any where beside. The expences in the principal societies of
      like nature are something more.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Their kitchens, and dinner-rooms, merit the inspection of strangers, and
      may be seen on applying to the porter, or cooks, without fee or
      introduction. Our time is short now, or we would take a peep; you must
      therefore content yourself with my description.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Temple is an irregular building. In Fleet-street are two entrances,
      one to the Inner, and the other to the Middle Temple. The latter has a
      front in the manner of Inigo Jones, of brick, ornamented with four large
      stone pilastres, of the Ionic order, with a pediment. It is too narrow,
      and being lofty, wants proportion. The passage to which it leads, although
      designed for carriages, is narrow, inconvenient, and mean.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The garden of the Inner Temple is not only a most happy situation, but is
      laid out with great taste, and kept <span class="pagenum">[249]</span>in
      perfect order. It is chiefly covered with green sward,, which is pleasing
      to the eye, especially in a city, and is most agreeable to walk on. It
      lies, as you perceive, along the river, is of great extent, and has a
      spacious gravel walk, or terrace, on the bank of the Thames. It forms a
      crowded promenade in summer, and at such times is an interesting spot.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Middle Temple has a garden, but much smaller,, and not so
      advantageously situated.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The hall of the Middle Temple is a spacious and elegant room in its
      style. Many great feasts have been given in it in old times. It is well
      worth a visit.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Inner Temple hall is comparatively small, but is a fine room. It is
      ornamented with the portraits of several of the Judges. Before this hall
      is a broad paved terrace, forming an excellent promenade, when the gardens
      are not sufficiently dry.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There are two good libraries belonging to these societies, open to
      students, and to others on application to the librarian, from ten in the
      morning till one, and in the afternoon from two till six.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Temple church belongs in common to the two societies. The Knights
      Templars built their church on this site, which was destroyed, and the
      present edifice was erected by the Knights Hospitallers. It is in the
      Norman style of architecture, and has three aisles, running east and west,
      and two cross aisles. At the western end is a spacious round tower, the
      inside of which forms an elegant and singular entrance into the church,
      from which it is not separated by close walls, but merely by arches. The
      whole edifice within has an uncommon and noble aspect. The roof of the
      church is supported by slight pillars of Sussex marble, and there are
      three windows at each side, adorned with small pillars of the same marble.
      The entire floor is of flags of black and white marble; the roof of the
      tower is supported with six pillars, having an upper and lower range of
      small arches, except on the eastern side, opening into the church: The
      length of the church is eighty-three feet; the breadth sixty; and the
      height thirty-four; the height of the inside of the tower is forty-eight
      feet, and its diameter on the floor fifty-one.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the porch or tower are the tombs of eleven Knights Templars; eight of
      them have the figures of <span class="pagenum">[250]</span>armed knights
      on them, three of them being the tombs of so many Earls of Pembroke. The
      organ of this church is one of the finest in the world.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Temple church is open for divine service every day, at eleven o'clock
      in the morning, and at four in the afternoon. There are four entrances
      into the Temple, besides those in Fleet-street; and it is a thoroughfare
      during the day, but the gates are shut at night. The gardens are open to
      the public in summer. It is a place of much business and constant traffic,
      I assure you."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I perceive it," said Bob, "by the number of persons passing and
      repassing, every one apparently animated and impelled by some business of
      importance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, it is something like a steam-boiler, by which a considerable portion
      of the engines of the Law are kept in motion. They can alarm and allay
      according to the pockets of their customers, or the sagacity which they
      are able to discover in their heads. There are perhaps as many Quacks in
      this profession as in any other," continued Tom, as they regained
      Fleet-street; when, perceiving it was half past four o'clock by St.
      Dunstan's&mdash;"But we must now make the best of our way, or we may be
      cut out of the good things of this <i>Globe</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What are so many persons collected together here for?" enquired Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Merely to witness a little of ingenious machinery. Keep your eye on the
      two figures in the front of the church with clubs in their hands."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I do," said Bob; "but there does not appear to me to be any thing very
      remarkable about them."
    </p>
    <p>
      He scarcely uttered the words, when he observed that these figures struck
      their clubs upon the bells which hung between them to denote the time of
      day.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These figures," said Tom, "and the circumstance of giving them motion
      every fifteen minutes by the movements of the clock, have attracted a
      great deal of notice, particularly among persons from the country, and at
      almost every quarter of an hour throughout the day they are honoured with
      spectators. The church itself is very ancient, and has been recently
      beautified. The <i>Bell thumpers</i>, whose abilities you have just had a
      specimen of, have been standing there ever since the year 1671."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is hard service," said Bob, "and they must certainly deserve a pension
      from Government more than many of <span class="pagenum">[251]</span>the
      automatons who are now in the enjoyment of the national bounties."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are right enough," said a Translator of Soles,{1} who had overheard
      Bob's last remark, with a pair of old shoes under his arm; "and d&mdash;&mdash;n
      me if I would give a pair of <i>crazy crabshells</i>{2} without <i>vamp or
      whelt for the whole boiling of 'em</i>{3}-there is not one on 'em worth a
      bloody jemmy."{4}
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon hearing this from the political Cobbler, a disturbed sort of shout
      was uttered by the surrounding spectators, who had rather increased than
      diminished in number, to hear the observations of the leathern-lung'd
      Orator; when Tom, giving his Cousin a significant pinch of the arm,
      impelled him forward, and left them to the enjoyment of their humour.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Political observations are always bad in the street," said Tom; "it is a
      subject upon which scarcely any two persons agree distinctly-<i>Old Wax
      and Bristles</i> is about <i>three sheets in the wind</i>,{5} and no doubt
      there are enough to take advantage of any persons stopping at this time of
      the day."{6}
    </p>
    <p>
      "What have we here?" said Bob, who observed a concourse of people
      surrounding the end of Fetter Lane.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Only a couple more of striking figures," replied Tom, "almost as
      intelligent as those we have just seen."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1  Translator of Soles&mdash;A disciple of St. Crispin, alias a
     cobbler, who can botch up old shoes, so as to have the
     appearance of being almost new, and who is principally
     engaged in his laudable occupation by the second-hand shoe-
     sellers of Field Lane, Turn Stile, &amp;c. for the purpose of
     turning an honest penny, i.e. to deceive poor purchasers.

     2 Crab-shells&mdash;A cant term for shoes.

     3  Whole boding of 'em&mdash;The whole kit of 'em, &amp;c. means the
     whole party.

     4 Bloody Jemmy&mdash;A cant term for a sheep's head.

     5  Three sheets in the wind&mdash;A cant phrase intending to
     explain that a person is more than half drunk.

     6 This was a hint well given by Dashall; for, in the present
     times, it is scarcely possible to be aware of the numerous
     depredations that are committed in the streets of the
     Metropolis in open day-light; and it is a well-known fact,
     that Fleet Street, being one of the leading thoroughfares,
     is at almost all times infested with loose characters of
     every description, from the well-dressed Sharpers, who hover
     round the entrances to billiard-tables to mark new comers,
     and give information to the pals in waiting, somewhere
     within call, and who are called Macers-to the wily Duffers
     or Buffers, willing to sell extraordinary bargains, and the
     <i>Cly-faker</i>, or Pickpocket.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[252]</span>Bob bustled forward, and looking down
      the lane, perceived two Watchmen, one on each side the street, bearing
      poles with black boards inscribed in white letters, "Beware of bad
      houses," and a lantern hanging to each.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These," said Tom, "are not decoy ducks, but scare crows, at least they
      are intended for such; whether their appearance does not operate as much
      one way as it does the other, is, I believe, a matter of doubt."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Beware of bad houses," said Bob&mdash;"I don't exactlY see the object."
    </p>
    <p>
      "No, perhaps not," continued his Cousin; "but I will tell you: this is a
      method which the Churchwardens of parishes sometimes take of shaming the
      <i>pa-pa</i> or <i>fie fie</i> ladies from their residences, or at least
      of discovering their visitors; but I am half inclined to think, that nine
      times out of ten the contrary effect is produced; for these men who are
      stationed as warnings to avoid, are easily to be blinded by the gay and
      gallant youths, who have" an inclination to obtain an admission to the
      fair cyprians; besides which, if the first inhabitants are really induced
      to quit, the house is quickly occupied by similar game, and the
      circumstance of the burning out, as it is termed, serves as a
      direction-post to new visitors; so that no real good is eventually
      effected-Come, we had better move on&mdash;there is nothing more
      extraordinary here."
    </p>
    <p>
      "This is Peele's Coffee House," continued he&mdash;"a house celebrated for
      its general good accommodations. Here, as well as at the Chapter Coffee
      House, in Paternoster Row, all the newspapers are kept filed annually, and
      may be referred to by application to the Waiters, at the very trifling
      expense of a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. The Monthly and Quarterly
      Reviews, and the provincial papers, are also kept for the accommodation of
      the customers, and constitute an extensive and valuable library; it is the
      frequent resort of Authors and Critics, who meet to pore over the news of
      the day, or search the records of past times."
    </p>
    <p>
      "An excellent way of passing an hour," said Bob, "and a proof of the
      studied attention which is paid not only to the comforts and convenience
      of their customers, but also to their instruction."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are right," replied Tom; "in London every man has an opportunity of
      living according to his wishes and <span class="pagenum">[253]</span>the
      powers of his pocket; he may dive, like Roderick Random, into a cellar,
      and fill his belly for four pence, or regale himself with the more
      exquisite delicacies of the London Tavern at a guinea; while the moderate
      tradesman can be supplied at a chop-house for a couple of shillings; and
      the mechanic by a call at the shop over the way at the corner of Water
      Lane,{1} may purchase his half pound of ham or beef, and retire to a
      public-house to eat it; where he obtains his pint of porter, and in turn
      has an opportunity of reading the <i>Morning Advertiser</i>, the <i>Times</i>,
      or the <i>Chronicle</i>. Up this court is a well-known house, the sign of
      the Old Cheshire Cheese; it has long been established as a chop-house, and
      provides daily for a considerable number of persons; but similar
      accommodations are to be found in almost every street in London. Then
      again, there are cook-shops of a still humbler description where a dinner
      may be procured at a still more moderate price; so that in this great
      Metropolis there is accommodation for all ranks and descriptions of
      persons, who may be served according to the delicacy of their appetites
      and the state of their finances.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A Chop-house is productive of all the pleasures in life; it is a
      combination of the most agreeable and satisfactory amusements: indeed,
      those who have never had an opportunity of experiencing the true happiness
      therein to be found, have a large portion of delight and gratification to
      discover: the heart, the mind and the constitution are to be mended upon
      crossing its threshold; and description must fall short in its efforts to
      pourtray its enlivening and invigorating influence; it is, in a word, a
      little world within itself, absolutely a universe in miniature, possessing
      a system peculiar to itself, of planets and satellites,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This allusion was made by the Hon. Tom Dashall to the Shop
     of Mr. Cantis, who was formerly in the employ of Mr. Epps,
     and whose appearance in opposition to him at Temple Bar a
     few years back excited a great deal of public attention, and
     had the effect of reducing the prices of their ham and beef.
     Mr. Epps generally has from fourteen to twenty Shops, and
     sometimes more, situated in different parts of the
     Metropolis, and there is scarcely a street in London where
     there is not some similar place of accommodation; but Mr.
     Epps is the most extensive purveyor for the public appetite.
     At these shops, families may be supplied with any quantity,
     from an ounce to a pound, of hot boiled beef and ham at
     moderate prices; while the poor are regaled with a plate of
     cuttings at a penny or twopence each.
</pre>
    <p>
      and fixed stars and revolutions, and its motions are annual, rotatory and
      diurnal, in all its extensive diversity of waiters, cooks, saucepans,
      fryingpans, gridirons, salamanders, stoves and smoke-jacks; so that if you
      wish to know true and uncloying delight, you are now acquainted with where
      it is to be found. Not all the sages of the ancient or the modern world
      ever dreamed of a theory half so exquisite, or calculated to afford man a
      treat so truly delicious.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Within the doors of a Chop-house are to be found food for both body and
      soul-mortal and mental appetites-feasting for corporeal cravings and
      cravings intellectual-nourishment at once for the faculties both of mind
      and body: there, in fact, the brain may be invigorated, and the mind fed
      with good things; while the palate is satisfied by devouring a mutton
      chop, a veal cutlet, or a beef steak; and huge draughts of wisdom may be
      imbibed while drinking a bottle of soda or a pint of humble porter.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In this delightful place of amusement and convenience, there is provender
      for philosophers or fools, stoics or epicureans; contemplation for genius
      of all denominations; and it embraces every species of science and of art,
      (having an especial eye to the important art of Cookery;) it encompasses
      all that is worthy of the sublimest faculties and capacities of the soul;
      it is the resort of all that is truly good and glorious on earth, the
      needy and the noble, the wealthy and the wise. Its high estimation is
      universally acknowledged; it has the suffrage of the whole world, so much
      so, that at all times and in all seasons its supremacy is admitted and its
      influence recognized. The name, the very name alone, is sufficient to
      excite all that is pleasant to our senses (five or seven, how many soever
      there may be.) A Chop-house! at that word what delightful prospects are
      presented to the mind's eye-what a clashing of knives and forks and plates
      and pewter pots, and rushing of footsteps and murmurings of expectant
      hosts enter into our delighted ears&mdash;what gay scenes of varied
      beauty, and many natured viands and viscous soups, tarts, puddings and
      pies, rise before our visual nerves-what fragrant perfumes, sweet scented
      odours, and grateful gales of delicate dainties stream into our olfactory
      perceptions,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          ".   .  .    Like the sweet south
          Upon a bank-a hank of violets, giving
          And taking odour."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[255]</span>Its powers are as vast as wonderful and
      goodly, and extend over all animal and animated nature, biped and
      quadruped, the earth, the air, and all that therein is. By its high
      decree, the beast may no longer bask in the noon tide of its nature, the
      birds must forsake their pure ether, and the piscatory dwellers in the
      vasty deep may spread no more their finny sails towards their caves of
      coral. The fruits, the herbs, and the other upgrowings of the habitable
      world, and all created things, by one wave of the mighty wand are brought
      together into this their common tomb. It is creative also of the lordliest
      independence of spirit. It excites the best passions of the heart&mdash;it
      calls into action every kind and generous feeling of our nature&mdash;it
      begets fraternal affection and unanimity and cordiality of soul, and
      excellent neighbourhood among men-it will correct antipodes, for its
      ministerial effects will produce a Radical advantage-its component parts
      go down with the world, and are well digested."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your description," said Bob, "has already had the effect of awakening
      appetite, and I feel almost as hungry as if I were just returning from a
      fox-chace."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," continued the Hon. Tom Dashall, "it is not only admirable as a
      whole, its constituent and individual beauties are as provocative of
      respect as the mass is of our veneration. From among its innumerable
      excellencies&mdash;I will mention one which deserves to be held in
      recollection and kept in our contemplation-what is more delightful than a
      fine beef-steak?-spite of Lexicographers, there is something of harmony
      even in its name, it seems to be the key-note of our best constructed
      organs, (organs differing from all others, only because they have no
      stops,) it circles all that is full, rich and sonorous&mdash;I do not mean
      in its articulated enunciation, but in its internal acceptation&mdash;there&mdash;there
      we feel all its strength and diapas, or force and quantity."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Admirable arrangements, indeed," said Bob. "True," continued Tom; "and
      all of them comparatively comfortable, according to their gradations ana
      the rank or circumstances of their customers. The Tavern furnishes wines,
      &amp;c.; the Pot-house, porter, ale, and liquors suitable to the high or
      low. The sturdy Porter, sweating beneath his load, may here refresh
      himself with heavy wet;{l} the Dustman, or the Chimney-sweep, may sluice
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Heavy wet-A well-known appellation for beer, porter, or
     ale.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[256]</span>Am ivory{1} with the Elixir of Life, now
      fashionably termed Daffy's."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Daffy's," said Tallyho-"that is somewhat new to me, I don't recollect
      hearing it before?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Daffy's Elixir," replied Dashall, "was a celebrated quack medicine,
      formerly sold by a celebrated Doctor of that name, and recommended by him
      as a cure for all diseases incident to the human frame. This Gin, Old Tom,
      and Blue Ruin, are equally recommended in the present day; in consequence
      of which, some of the learned gentlemen of the sporting' world have given
      it the title of Daffy's, though this excellent beverage is known by many
      other names.
    </p>
    <p>
      "For instance, the Lady of refined sentiments and delicate nerves, feels
      the necessity of a little cordial refreshment, to brighten the one and
      enliven the other, and therefore takes it on the sly, under the polite
      appellation of white wine. The knowing Kids and dashing Swells are for a
      drap of blue ruin, to keep all things in good twig. The Laundress, who
      disdains to be termed a dry washer,&mdash;dearly loves a dollop {2} of Old
      Tom, because, while she is up to her elbows in suds, and surrounded with
      steam, she thinks a drap of the old gemman (having no pretensions to a
      young one) would comfort and strengthen her inside, and consequently
      swallows the inspiring dram. The travelling Gat-gut Scraper, and the
      Hurdy-Grinder, think there is music in the sound of max, and can toss off
      their kevartern to any tune in good time. The Painter considers it
      desirable to produce effect by mingling his dead white with a little sky
      blue. The Donkey driver and the Fish-fag are bang-up for a flash of
      lightning, to illumine their ideas. The Cyprian, whose marchings and
      counter marchings in search of custom are productive of extreme fatigue,
      may, in some degree, be said to owe her existence to Jockey; at least she
      considers him a dear boy, and deserving her best attentions, so long as
      she has any power. The Link-boys, the Mud-larks, and the Watermen, who
      hang round public-house doors to feed horses, &amp;c. club up their brads
      for a kevartern of Stark-naked in three outs. The Sempstress and Straw
      Bonnet-maker are for a yard of White Tape; and
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Sluice the ivory&mdash;Is originally derived from sluicery, and
     means washing, or passing over the teeth.

     2 Dollop&mdash;Is a large or good quantity of any thing: the whole
     dollop means the whole quantity.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[256]</span>the Swell Covies and Out and Outers,
      find nothing so refreshing after a night's spree, when the
      victualling-office is out of order, as a little Fuller's-earth, or a dose
      of Daffy's; so that it may fairly be presumed it is a universal beverage&mdash;nay,
      so much so, that a certain gentleman of City notoriety, though he has not
      yet obtained a seat in St. Stephen's Chapel, with an ingenuity equal to
      that of the <i>Bug-destroyer to the King</i>,{1} has latterly decorated
      his house, not a hundred miles from Cripplegate, with the words Wine and
      Brandy Merchant to her Majesty, in large letters, from which circumstance
      his depository of the refreshing and invigorating articles of life has
      obtained the appellation of the Queen's Gin Shop."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob laughed heartily at his Cousin's interpretation of Daffy's.
    </p>
    <p>
      While Tom humm'd, in an under tone, the fag end of a song, by way of
      conclusion&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Why, there's old Mother Jones, of St. Thomas's Street,
          If a jovial companion she chances to meet,
          Away to the gin-shop they fly for some max,
          And for it they'd pawn the last smock from their backs;

               For the juniper berry,
               It makes their hearts merry,
               With a hey down, down deny,
               Geneva's the liquor of life."
</pre>
    <p>
      By this time they were at the Globe; upon entering which, they were
      greeted by Mortimer and Merry well, who had arrived before them; and
      dinner being served almost immediately, they were as quickly seated at the
      table, to partake of an excellent repast.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 It is a well-known fact, that a person of the name of
     Tiffin announced himself to the world under this very
     seductive title, which, doubtless, had the effect of
     bringing him considerable custom from the loyal subjects of
     his great patron.
</pre>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br /> <a name="link22HCH0001" id="link22HCH0001">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Here fashion and folly still go hand in hand,
          With the Blades of the East, and the Bucks of the Strand;
          The Bloods of the Park, and paraders so gay,
          Who are lounging in Bond Street the most of the day&mdash;
          Who are foremost in all that is formed for delight,
          At greeking, or wenching, or drinking all night;
          For London is circled with unceasing joys:
          Then, East, West, North and South, let us hunt them, my boys."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[258]</span> THE entrance to the house had attracted
      Tallyho's admiration as they proceeded; but the taste and elegance of the
      Coffee-room, fitted up with brilliant chandeliers, and presenting amidst a
      blaze of splendour every comfort and accommodation for its visitors,
      struck him with surprise; in which however he was not suffered to remain
      long, for Merrywell and Mortimer had laid their plans with some degree of
      depth and determination to carry into execution the proposed ramble of the
      evening, and had ordered a private room for the party; besides which, they
      had invited a friend to join them, who was introduced to Tom and Bob,
      under the title of Frank Harry. Frank Harry was a humorous sort of fellow,
      who could tell a tough story, sing a merry song, and was up to snuff,
      though he frequently got snuffy, singing,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The bottle's the Sun of our table,

          His beams are rosy wine:
          We, planets never are able

          Without his beams to shine.
          Let mirth and glee abound,

          You'll soon grow bright

          With borrow'd light,
          And shine as he goes round."
</pre>
    <p>
      He was also a bit of a dabbler at Poetry, a writer of Songs, Epigrams,
      Epitaphs, &amp;c.; and having been a long resident in the East, was
      thought to be a very useful guide on such an excursion, and proved himself
      a very <span class="pagenum">[259]</span> pleasant sort of companion: he
      had a dawning pleasantry in his countenance, eradiated by an eye of
      vivacity, which seemed to indicate there was nothing which gave him so
      much gratification as a mirth-moving jest.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What spirits were his, what wit and what whim, Now cracking a joke, and
      now breaking a limb."
    </p>
    <p>
      Give him but food for laughter, and he would almost consider himself
      furnished with food and raiment. There was however a pedantic manner with
      him at times; an affectation of the clerical in his dress, which, upon the
      whole, did not appear to be of the newest fashion, or improved by wearing;
      yet he would not barter one wakeful jest for a hundred sleepy sermons, or
      one laugh for a thousand sighs. If he ever sigh'd at all, it was because
      he had been serious where he might have laugh'd; if he had ever wept, it
      was because mankind had not laugh'd more and mourn'd less. He appeared
      almost to be made up of contrarieties, turning at times the most serious
      subjects into ridicule, and moralizing upon the most ludicrous occurrences
      of life, never failing to conclude his observations with some quaint or
      witty sentiment to excite risibility; seeming at the same time to say,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "How I love to laugh;
          Never was a weeper;
          Care's a silly calf,
          Joy's my casket keeper."
</pre>
    <p>
      During dinner time he kept the table in a roar of laughter, by declaring
      it was his opinion there was a kind of puppyism in pigs that they should
      wear tails&mdash;calling a great coat, a spencer folio edition with
      tail-pieces&mdash;Hercules, a man-midwife in a small way of business,
      because he had but twelve labours&mdash;assured them he had seen a woman
      that morning who had swallowed an almanac, which he explained by adding,
      that her features were so carbuncled, that the red lettered days were
      visible on her face&mdash;that Horace ran away from the battle of
      Philippi, merely to prove that he was no lame poet&mdash;he described
      Critics as the door-porters to the Temple of Fame, whose business was to
      see that no persons slipped in with holes in their stockings, or paste
      buckles for diamond ones, but was much in doubt whether they always
      performed their duty honestly&mdash;he called the Sun the <i>Yellow-hair'd
      Laddie</i> <span class="pagenum">[260]</span> &mdash;and the Prince of
      Darkness, the <i>Black Prince</i>&mdash;ask'd what was the difference
      between a sigh-heaver and a coal-heaver; but obtaining no answer, I will
      tell you, said he&mdash;The coal-heaver has a load at his back, which he
      can carry&mdash;but a sigh-heaver has one at his heart, which he can not
      carry. He had a whimsical knack of quoting old proverbs, and instead of
      saying, the Cobbler should stick to his last, he conceived it ought to be,
      the Cobbler should stick to his wax, because he thought that the more
      practicable&mdash;What is bred in the bone, said he, will not come out
      with the skewer; and justified his alteration by asserting it must be
      plain enough to the fat-headed comprehensions of those epicurean persons
      who have the magpie-propensity of prying into marrow-bones.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall having remarked, in the course of conversation, that <i>necessity
      has no law</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      He declared he was sorry for it&mdash;it was surely a pity, considering
      the number of learned Clerks she might give employ to if she had&mdash;her
      Chancellor (continued he) would have no sinecure of it, I judge: hearing
      the petitions of her poor, broken-fortuned and bankrupt, subjects would
      take up all his terms, though every term were a year, and every year a
      term. Thus he united humour with seriousness, and seriousness with humour,
      to the infinite amusement of those around him.
    </p>
    <p>
      Merrywell, who was well acquainted with, and knew his humour, took every
      opportunity of what is called drawing him out, and encouraging his
      propensity to punning, a species of wit at which he was particularly
      happy, for puns fell as thick from him as leaves from autumn bowers; and
      he further entertained them with an account of the intention he had some
      short time back of petitioning for the office of pun-purveyor to his late
      Majesty; but that before he could write the last line&mdash;"And your
      petitioner will ever pun" it was bestowed upon a Yeoman of the Guard.
      Still, however, said he, I have an idea of opening business as a
      pun-wright in general to his Majesty's subjects, for the sale and
      diffusion of all that is valuable in that small ware of wit, and intend to
      advertise&mdash;Puns upon all subjects, wholesale, retail, and for
      exportation. N B. 1. An allowance will be made to Captains and Gentlemen
      going to the East and West Indies&mdash;Hooks, Peakes, Pococks,{1}
      supplied on
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Well-known dramatic authors.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[261]</span> moderate terms&mdash;worn out
      sentiments and <i>clap-traps</i> will be taken in exchange. N B. 2. May be
      had in a large quantity, in a great deal box, price five acts of sterling
      comedy per packet, or in small quantities, in court-plaster sized boxes,
      price one melodrama and an interlude per box. N B. 3. The genuine puns are
      sealed with a true Munden grin&mdash;all others are counterfeits&mdash;Long
      live Apollo, &amp;c. &amp;c.
    </p>
    <p>
      The cloth being removed, the wine was introduced, and
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "As wine whets the wit, improves its native force,
          And gives a pleasant flavour to discourse,"
</pre>
    <p>
      Frank Harry became more lively at each glass&mdash;"Egad!" said he, "my
      intention of petitioning to be the king's punster, puts me in mind of a
      story."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Can't you sing it?" enquired Merrywell.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The pipes want clearing out first," was the reply, "and that is a sign I
      can't sing at present; but signal as it may appear, and I see some
      telegraphic motions are exchanging, my intention is to shew to you all the
      doubtful interpretation of signs in general."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Let's have it then," said Tom; "but, Mr. Chairman, I remember an old Song
      which concludes with this sentiment&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Tis hell upon earth to be wanting of wine."
</pre>
    <p>
      "The bottle is out, we must replenish."
    </p>
    <p>
      The hint was no sooner given, than the defect was remedied; and after
      another glass,
    </p>
    <p>
      "King James VI. on his arrival in London, (said he) was waited on by a
      Spanish Ambassador, a man of some erudition, but who had strangely
      incorporated with his learning, a whimsical notion, that every country
      ought to have a school, in which a certain order of men should be taught
      to interpret signs; and that the most expert in this department ought to
      be dignified with the title of Professor of Signs. If this plan were
      adopted, he contended, that most of the difficulties arising from the
      ambiguity of language, and the imperfect acquaintance which people of one
      nation had with the tongue of another, would be done away. Signs, he
      argued, arose from the dictates of nature; and, as they were the same in
      every country, there could be no danger of their being misunderstood. Full
      of this project, the Ambassador was <span class="pagenum">[262]</span>
      lamenting one day before the King, that the nations of Europe were wholly
      destitute of this grand desideratum; and he strongly recommended the
      establishment of a college founded upon the simple principles he had
      suggested. The king, either to humour this Quixotic foible, or to gratify
      his own ambition at the expense of truth, observed, in reply, 'Why, Sir, I
      have a Professor of Signs in one of the northernmost colleges in my
      dominions; but the distance is, perhaps, six hundred miles, so that it
      will be impracticable for you to have an interview with him.' Pleased with
      this unexpected information, the Ambassador exclaimed&mdash;'If it had
      been six hundred leagues, I would go to see him; and I am determined to
      set out in the course of three or four days.' The King, who now perceived
      that he had committed himself, endeavoured to divert him from his purpose;
      but, finding this impossible, he immediately caused letters to be written
      to the college, stating the case as it really stood, and desired the
      Professors to get rid of the Ambassador in the best manner they were able,
      without exposing their Sovereign. Disconcerted at this strange and
      unexpected message, the Professors scarcely knew how to proceed. They,
      however, at length, thought to put off their august visitant, by saying,
      that the Professor of Signs was not at home, and that his return would be
      very uncertain. Having thus fabricated the story, they made preparations
      to receive the illustrious stranger, who, keeping his word, in due time
      reached their abode. On his arrival, being introduced with becoming
      solemnity, he began to enquire, who among them had the honour of being
      Professor of Signs? He was told in reply, that neither of them had that
      exalted honour; but the learned gentleman, after whom he enquired, was
      gone into the Highlands, that they conceived his stay would be
      considerable; but that no one among them could even conjecture the period
      of his return. 'I will wait his coming,' replied the Ambassador, 'if it be
      twelve months.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "Finding him thus determined, and fearing, from the journey he had already
      undertaken that he might be as good as his word, the learned Professors
      had recourse to another stratagem. To this they found themselves driven,
      by the apprehension that they must entertain him as long as he chose to
      tarry; and in case he should unfortunately weary out their patience, the
      whole affair must terminate <span class="pagenum">[263]</span> in a
      discovery of the fraud. They knew a Butcher, who had been in the habit of
      serving the colleges occasionally with meat. This man, they thought, with
      a little instruction might serve their purpose; he was, however, blind
      with one eye, but he had much drollery and impudence about him, and very
      well knew how to conduct any farce to which his abilities were competent.
    </p>
    <p>
      "On sending for Geordy, (for that was the butcher's name) they
      communicated to him the tale, and instructing him in the part he was to
      act, he readily undertook to become Professor of Signs, especially as he
      was not to speak one word in the Ambassador's presence, on any pretence
      whatever. Having made these arrangements, it was formally announced to the
      Ambassador, that the Professor would be in town in the course of a few
      days, when he might expect a silent interview. Pleased with this
      information, the learned foreigner thought that he would put his abilities
      at once to the test, by introducing into his dumb language some subject
      that should be at once difficult, interesting, and important. When the day
      of interview arrived, Geordy was cleaned up, decorated with a large bushy
      wig, and covered over with a singular gown, in every respect becoming his
      station. He was then seated in a chair of state, in one of their large
      rooms, while the Ambassador and the trembling Professors waited in an
      adjoining apartment.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It was at length announced, that the learned Professor of Signs was ready
      to receive his Excellency, who, on entering the room, was struck with
      astonishment at his venerable and dignified appearance. As none of the
      Professors would presume to enter, to witness the interview, under a
      pretence of delicacy, (but, in reality, for fear that their presence might
      have some effect upon the risible muscles of Geordy's countenance) they
      waited with inconceivable anxiety, the result of this strange adventure,
      upon which depended their own credit, that of the King, and, in some
      degree, the honour of the nation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "As this was an interview of signs, the Ambassador began with Geordy, by
      holding up one of his fingers; Geordy replied, by holding up two. The
      Ambassador then held up three; Geordy answered, by clenching his fist, and
      looking sternly. The Ambassador then took an orange from his pocket, and
      held it up; Geordy returned the compliment, by taking from his pocket a
      <span class="pagenum">[264]</span> piece of a barley cake, which he
      exhibited in a similar manner. The ambassador, satisfied with the vast
      attainments of the learned Professor, then bowed before him with profound
      reverence, and retired. On rejoining the agitated Professors, they
      fearfully began to enquire what his Excellency thought of their learned
      brother? 'He is a perfect miracle,' replied the Ambassador, 'his worth is
      not to be purchased by the wealth of half the Indies.' 'May we presume to
      descend to particulars?' returned the Professors, who now began to think
      themselves somewhat out of danger. 'Gentlemen,' said the Ambassador, 'when
      I first entered into his presence, I held up one finger, to denote that
      there is one God. He then held up two, signifying that the Father should
      not be divided from the Son. I then held up three, intimating, that I
      believed in Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. He then clenched his fist, and,
      looking sternly at me, signified, that these three are one; and that he
      would defy me, either to separate them, or to make additions. I then took
      out an orange from my pocket, and held it up, to show the goodness of God,
      and to signify that he gives to his creatures not only the necessaries,
      but even the luxuries of life. Then, to my utter astonishment, this
      wonderful man took from his pocket a piece of bread, thus assuring me,
      that this was the staff of life, and was to be preferred to all the
      luxuries in the world. Being thus satisfied with his proficiency and great
      attainments in this science, I silently withdrew, to reflect upon what I
      had witnessed.' "Diverted with the success of their stratagem, the
      Professors continued to entertain their visitor, until he thought prudent
      to withdraw. No sooner had he retired, than the opportunity was seized to
      learn from Geordy, in what manner he had proceeded to give the Ambassador
      such wonderful satisfaction; they being at a loss to conceive how he could
      have caught his ideas with so much promptitude, and have replied to them
      with proportionable readiness. But, that one story might not borrow any
      features from the other, they concealed from Geordy all they had learned
      from the Ambassador; and desiring him to begin with his relation, he
      proceeded in the following manner:&mdash;'When the rascal came into the
      room, after gazing at me a little, what do you think, gentlemen, that he
      did? He held up one finger, as much as to say, you have only one eye. I
      then held up two, to <span class="pagenum">[265]</span> let him know that
      my one eye was as good as both of his. He then held up three, as much as
      to say, we have only three eyes between us. This was so provoking, that I
      bent my fist at the scoundrel, and had it not been for your sakes, I
      should certainly have risen from the chair, pulled off my wig and gown,
      and taught him how to insult a man, because he had the misfortune to lose
      one eye. The impudence of the fellow, however, did not stop here; for he
      then pulled out an orange from his pocket, and held it up, as much as to
      say, Your poor beggarly country cannot produce this. I then pulled out a
      piece of good cake, and held it up, giving him to understand, that I did
      not care a farthing for his trash. Neither do I; and I only regret, that I
      did not thrash the scoundrel's hide, that he might remember how he
      insulted me, and abused my country.' We may learn from hence, that if
      there are not two ways of telling a story, there are at least two ways of
      understanding Signs, and also of interpreting them."
    </p>
    <p>
      This story, which was told with considerable effect by their merry
      companion, alternately called forth loud bursts of laughter, induced
      profound silence, and particularly interested and delighted young Mortimer
      and Tallyho; while Merrywell kept the glass in circulation, insisting on
      <i>no day-light</i>{1} nor <i>heel-taps</i>,{2} and the lads began to feel
      themselves all in high feather. Time was passing in fearless enjoyment,
      and Frank Harry being called on by Merrywell for a song, declared he had
      no objection to tip 'em a rum chant, provided it was agreed that it should
      go round.
    </p>
    <p>
      This proposal was instantly acceded to, a promise made that he should not
      be at a loss for a good <i>coal-box</i>;{3} and after a little more rosin,
      without which, he said, he could not pitch the key-note, he sung the
      following<span class="pagenum">[266]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                         SONG.

          Oh, London! dear London! magnanimous City,
          Say where is thy likeness again to be found?

          Here pleasures abundant, delightful and pretty,
          All whisk us and frisk us in magical round;

     1 No day-light&mdash;That is to leave no space in the glass; or,
     in other words, to take a bumper.

     2  Heel-taps&mdash;To leave no wine at the bottom.

     3 Coal-box&mdash;A very common corruption of chorus.

          Here we have all that in life can merry be,
          Looking and laughing with friends Hob and Nob,

          More frolic and fun than there's bloom on the cherry-tree,
          While we can muster a <i>Sovereign Bob</i>.
</pre>
    <p>
      (Spoken)&mdash;Yes, yes, London is the large world in a small compass: it
      contains all the comforts and pleasures of human life&mdash;"Aye aye,
      (says a Bumpkin to his more accomplished Kinsman) Ye mun brag o' yer
      Lunnun fare; if smoak, smother, mud, and makeshift be the comforts and
      pleasures, gie me free air, health and a cottage."&mdash;Ha, ha, ha, Hark
      at the just-catch'd Johnny Rata, (says a bang-up Lad in a lily-shallow and
      upper toggery) where the devil did you come from? who let you loose upon
      society? d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;e, you ought to be coop'd up at Exeter
      'Change among the wild beasts, the Kangaroos and Catabaws, and shewn as
      the eighth wonder of the world! Shew 'em in! Shew 'em in! stir him up with
      a long pole; the like never seen before; here's the head of an owl with
      the tail of an ass&mdash;all alive, alive O! D&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;me how
      the fellow stares; what a marvellous piece of a mop-stick without thrums.&mdash;"By
      gum (says the Bumpkin) you looks more like an ape, and Ise a great mind to
      gie thee a douse o' the chops."&mdash;You'd soon find yourself chop-fallen
      there, my nabs, (replies his antagonist)&mdash;you are not up to the
      gammon&mdash;you must go to College and learn to sing
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Oh, London! dear London!  &amp;c.

          Here the streets are so gay, and the features so smiling,

          With uproar and noise, bustle, bother, and gig;
          The lasses (dear creatures! ) each sorrow beguiling,

          The Duke and the Dustman, the Peer and the Prig;
          Here is his Lordship from gay Piccadilly,

          There an ould Clothesman from Rosemary Lane;
          Here is a Dandy in search of a filly,

          And there is a Blood, ripe for milling a pane.
</pre>
    <p>
      (Spoken)&mdash;All higgledy-piggledy, pigs in the straw&mdash;Lawyers,
      Lapidaries, Lamplighters, and Lap-dogs&mdash;Men-milliners, Money-lenders,
      and Fancy Millers, Mouse-trap Mongers, and Matchmen, in one eternal round
      of variety! Paradise is a pail of cold water in comparison with its
      unparalleled pleasures&mdash;and the wishing cap of Fortunatus could not
      produce a greater abundance of delight&mdash;Cat's Meat&mdash;Dog's Meat&mdash;Here
      they are all four a penny, hot hot hot, smoking hot, piping hot hot
      Chelsea Buns&mdash;Clothes sale, clothes&mdash;Sweep, sweep&mdash;while a
      poor bare-footed Ballad Singer with a hoarse discordant voice at intervals
      chimes in with
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "They led me like a pilgrim thro' the labyrinth of care,
          You may know me by my sign and the robe that I wear;"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[267]</span> so that the concatenation of sounds
      mingling all at once into one undistinguished concert of harmony, induces
      me to add mine to the number, by singing&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Oh, London! dear London! &amp;c.

          The Butcher, whose tray meets the dough of the Baker,

          And bundles his bread-basket out of his hand;
          The Exquisite Lad, and the dingy Flue Faker,{1}

          And coaches to go that are all on the stand:
          Here you may see the lean sons of Parnassus,

          The puffing Perfumer, so spruce and so neat;
          While Ladies, who flock to the fam'd Bonassus,

          Are boning our hearts as we walk thro' the street.
</pre>
    <p>
      (Spoken)&mdash;"In gude truth," says a brawney Scotchman, "I'se ne'er
      see'd sic bonny work in a' my liefe&mdash;there's nae walking up the
      streets without being knock'd doon, and nae walking doon the streets
      without being tripp'd up."&mdash;"Blood-an-oons, (says an Irishman) don't
      be after blowing away your breath in blarney, my dear, when you'll want it
      presently to cool your barley broth."&mdash;"By a leaf," cries a Porter
      with a chest of drawers on his knot, and, passing between them, capsizes
      both at once, then makes the best of his way on a jog-trot, humming to
      himself, Ally Croaker, or Hey diddle Ho diddle de; and leaving the fallen
      heroes to console themselves with broken heads, while some officious
      friends are carefully placing them on their legs, and genteelly easing
      their pockets of the possibles; after which they toddle off at leisure, to
      sing
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Oh, London! dear London! &amp;c.

          Then for buildings so various, ah, who would conceive it,

          Unless up to London they'd certainly been?
          'Tis a truth, I aver, tho' you'd scarcely believe it,

          That at the Court end not a Court's to be seen;
          Then for grandeur or style, pray where is the nation

          For fashion or folly can equal our own?
          Or fit out a fête like the grand Coronation?

          I defy the whole world, there is certainly none.
</pre>
    <p>
      (Spoken)&mdash;Talk of sights and sounds&mdash;is not there the Parliament
      House, the King's Palace, and the Regent's Bomb&mdash;The Horse-guards,
      the Body-guards, and the Black-guards&mdash;The Black-legs, and the
      Bluestockings&mdash;The Horn-blower, and the Flying Pie-man&mdash;The
      Indian Juggler&mdash;Punch and Judy&mdash;(imitating the well-known
      Show-man)&mdash;The young and the old, the grave and the gay&mdash;The
      modest Maid and the willing Cyprian&mdash;The Theatres&mdash;The Fives
      Court and the Court of Chancery&mdash;<span class="pagenum">[268]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Flue Faker&mdash;A cant term for Chimney-sweep.

          The Giants in Guildhall, to be seen by great and small, and,
          what's more than all, the Coronation Ball&mdash;

          Mirth, fun, frolic, and frivolity,
          To please the folks of quality:

          For all that can please the eye, the ear, the taste, the touch,
          the smell,

          Whether bang-up in life, unfriended or undone,

          No place has such charms as the gay town of London.

          Oh, Loudon! dear London! &amp;c.
</pre>
    <p>
      The quaint peculiarities of the Singer gave indescribable interest to this
      song, as he altered his voice to give effect to the various cries of the
      inhabitants, and it was knock'd down with three times three rounds of
      applause; when Merrywell, being named for the next, sung, accompanied with
      Dashall and Frank Harry, the following
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                        GLEE.

          "Wine, bring me wine&mdash;come fill the sparkling glass,
          Brisk let the bottle circulate;
          Name, quickly name each one his fav'rite lass,
          Drive from your brows the clouds of fate:
          Fill the sparkling bumper high,
          Let us drain the bottom dry.

          Come, thou grape-encircled Boy!
          From thy blissful seats above,
          Crown the present hours with joy,
          Bring me wine and bring me love:
          Fill the sparkling bumper high,
          Let us drain the bottom dry.

          Bacchus, o'er my yielding lip
          Spread the produce of thy vine;
          Love, thy arrows gently dip,
          Temp'ring them with generous wine:
          Fill the sparkling bumper high,
          Let us drain the bottom dry."
</pre>
    <p>
      In the mean time, the enemy of life was making rapid strides upon them
      unheeded, till Dashall reminded Merrywell of their intended visit to the
      East; and that as he expected a large portion of amusement in that
      quarter, he proposed a move.
    </p>
    <p>
      They were by this time all well primed&mdash;ripe for a rumpus&mdash;bang-up
      for a lark or spree, any where, any how, or with any body; they therefore
      took leave of their present scene of gaiety.<span class="pagenum">[269]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link22HCH0002" id="link22HCH0002">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVIII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Wand'ring with listless gait and spirits gay,
          They Eastward next pursued their jocund way;
          With story, joke, smart repartee and pun,
          Their business pleasure, and their object fun."
</pre>
    <p>
      IT was a fine moonlight evening, and upon leaving the Globe, they again
      found themselves in the hurry, bustle, and noise of the world. The glare
      of the gas-lights, and the rattling of coaches, carts and vehicles of
      various-descriptions, mingled with
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The busy hum of men,"
</pre>
    <p>
      attracted the attention of their eyes and ears, while the exhilarating
      juice of the bottle had given a circulation to the blood which enlivened
      imagination and invigorated fancy. Bob conceived himself in Elysium, and
      Frank Harry was as frisky as a kitten. The first object that arrested
      their progress was the house of Mr. Hone, whose political Parodies, and
      whose trials on their account, have given him so much celebrity. His
      window at the moment exhibited his recent satirical publication entitled a
      Slap at Slop and the Bridge Street Gang.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The great wit and humour displayed in this publication
     have deservedly entitled it to rank high among the jeu
     desprit productions of this lively age&mdash;to describe it were
     impossible&mdash;to enjoy it must be to possess it; but for the
     information of such of our readers as are remote from the
     Metropolis, it may perhaps be necessary to give something
     like a key of explanation to its title. A certain learned
     Gentleman, formerly the Editor of the Times, said now to be
     the Conductor of the New Times, who has by his writings
     rendered himself obnoxious to a numerous class of readers,
     has been long known by the title of Dr. Slop; in his
     publication, denominated the mock Times, and the Slop Pail,
     he has been strenuous in his endeavours to support and
     uphold a Society said to mis-call themselves The
     Constitutional Society, but now denominated The Bridge
     Street Gang; and the publication alluded to, contains
     humorous and satirical parodies, and sketches of the usual
     contents of his Slop Pail; with a Life of the learned
     Doctor, and an account of the origin of the Gang.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[270]</span> "Here," said Tom, "we are introduced at
      once into a fine field of observation. The inhabitant of this house
      defended himself in three different trials for the publication of alleged
      impious, profane, and scandalous libels on the Catechism, the Litany, and
      the Creed of St. Athanasius, with a boldness, intrepidity, and
      perseverance, almost unparalleled, as they followed in immediate
      succession, without even an allowance of time for bodily rest or mental
      refreshment."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," continued Frank Harry, "and gained a verdict on each occasion,
      notwithstanding the combined efforts of men in power, and those whose
      constant practice in our Courts of Law, with learning and information at
      their fingers ends, rendered his enemies fearful antagonists."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It was a noble struggle," said Tallyho; "I remember we had accounts of it
      in the country, and we did not fail to express our opinions by
      subscriptions to remunerate the dauntless defender of the rights and
      privileges of the British subject."
    </p>
    <p>
      "<i>Tip us your flipper</i>"{1} said Harry&mdash;-"then I see you are a
      true bit of the bull breed&mdash;one of us, as I may say. Well, now you
      see the spot of earth he inhabits&mdash;zounds, man, in his shop you will
      find amusement for a month&mdash;see here is The House that Jack Built&mdash;there
      is the Queen's Matrimonial Ladder, do you mark?&mdash;What think you of
      these qualifications for a Gentleman?
    </p>
    <p>
      "In love, and in liquor, and o'ertoppled with debt, With women, with wine,
      and with duns on the fret."
    </p>
    <p>
      There you have the Nondescript&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "A something, a nothing&mdash;what none understand,
          Be-mitred, be-crowned, but without heart or hand;
          There's Jack in the Green too, and Noodles, alas!
          "Who doodle John Bull of gold, silver, and brass.
</pre>
    <p>
      "Come," said Dashall, "you must cut your story short; I know if you begin
      to preach, we shall have a sermon as long as from here to South America,
      so allons;" and with this impelling his Cousin forward, they
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Tip us your Flipper&mdash;your mawley&mdash;your daddle, or your
     thieving hook; are terms made use of as occasions may suit
     the company in which they are introduced, to signify a desire
     to shake hands.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[271]</span> approached towards Saint Paul's,
      chiefly occupied in conversation on the great merit displayed in the
      excellent designs of Mr. Cruikshank, which embellish the work they had
      just been viewing; nor did they discover any thing further worthy of
      notice, till Bob's ears were suddenly attracted by a noise somewhat like
      that of a rattle, and turning sharply round to discover from whence it
      came, was amused with the sight of several small busts of great men,
      apparently dancing to the music of a weaver's shuttle.{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      "What the devil do you call this?" said he&mdash;"is it an exhibition of
      wax-work, or a model academy?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Neither," replied Dashall; "this is no other than the shop of a
      well-known dealer in stockings and nightcaps, who takes this ingenious
      mode of making himself popular, and informing the passengers that
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Here you may be served with all patterns and sizes,
          From the foot to the head, at moderate prices;"
</pre>
    <p>
      with woolens for winter, and cottons for summer&mdash;Let us move on, for
      there generally is a crowd at the door, and there is little doubt but he
      profits by those who are induced to gaze, as most people do in London, if
      they can but entrap attention. Romanis is one of those gentlemen who has
      contrived to make some noise in the world by puffing advertisements, and
      the circulation of poetical handbills. He formerly kept a very small shop
      for the sale of hosiery nearly opposite the East-India House, where he
      supplied the Sailors after receiving their pay for a long voyage, as well
      as their Doxies, with the articles in which he deals, by obtaining
      permission to style himself "Hosier to the Rt. Hon. East India Company."
      Since which, finding his trade increase and his purse extended, he has
      extended his patriotic views of clothing the whole population of London by
      opening shops in various parts, and has at almost all times two or three
      depositories for
    </p>
    <p>
      1 Romanis, the eccentric Hosier, generally places a loom near the door of
      his shops decorated with small busts; some of which being attached to the
      upper movements of the machinery, and grotesquely attired in patchwork and
      feathers, bend backwards and forwards with the motion of the works,
      apparently to salute the spectators, and present to the idea persons
      dancing; while every passing of the shuttle produces a noise which may be
      assimilated to that of the Rattlesnake, accompanied with sounds something
      like those of a dancing-master beating time to his scholars. <span
      class="pagenum">[272]</span> his stock. At this moment, besides what we
      have just seen, there is one in Gracechurch Street, and another in
      Shoreditch, where the passengers are constantly assailed by a little boy,
      who stands at the door with some bills in his hand, vociferating&mdash;Cheap,
      cheap."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," said Bob, "wherever he resides I suppose may really be called
      Cheapside?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "With quite as much propriety," continued Ton, "as the place we are now
      in; for, as the Irishman says in his song,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "At a place called Cheapside they sell every thing dear."
</pre>
    <p>
      During this conversation, Mortimer, Merrywell, and Harry were amusing
      themselves by occasionally addressing the numerous Ladies who were
      passing, and taking a peep at the shops&mdash;giggling with girls, or
      admiring the taste and elegance displayed in the sale of fashionable and
      useful articles&mdash;justled and impeded every now and then by the
      throng. Approaching Bow Church, they made a dead stop for a moment.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What a beautiful steeple!" exclaimed Bob; "I should, though no architect,
      prefer this to any I have yet seen in London."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your remark," replied Dashall, "does credit to your taste; it is
      considered the finest in the Metropolis. St. Paul's displays the grand
      effort of Sir Christopher Wren; but there are many other fine specimens of
      his genius to be seen in the City. His Latin Epitaph in St. Paul's may be
      translated thus: 'If you seek his monument, look around you;' and we may
      say of this steeple, 'If you wish a pillar to his fame, look up.' The
      interior of the little church, Walbrook,{1} (St. Stephen's) is likewise
      considered a
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This church is perhaps unrivalled, for the beauty of the
     architecture of its interior. For harmony of proportion,
     grace, airiness, variety, and elegance, it is not to be
     surpassed. It is a small church, built in the form of a
     cross. The roof is supported by Corinthian columns, so
     disposed as to raise an idea of grandeur, which the
     dimensions of the structure do not seem to promise. Over the
     centre, at which the principal aisles cross, is a dome
     divided into compartments, the roof being partitioned in a
     similar manner, and the whole finely decorated. The effect
     of this build-ing is inexpressibly delightful; the eye at
     one glance embracing a plan full and distinct, and
     afterwards are seen a greater number of parts than the
     spectator was prepared to expect. It is known and admired on
     the Continent, as a master-piece of art. Over the altar is a
     fine painting of the martyrdom of St. Stephen, by West.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[273]</span> <i>chef d'ouvre</i> of the same artist,
      and serves to display the versatility of his genius."
    </p>
    <p>
      Instead however of looking up, Bob was looking over the way, where a
      number of people, collected round a bookseller's window, had attracted his
      attention.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Apropos," cried Dashall,&mdash;"The Temple of Apollo&mdash;we should have
      overlook'd a fine subject, but for your remark&mdash;yonder is Tegg's
      Evening Book Auction, let us cross and see what's going on. He is a fellow
      of 'infinite mirth and good humour,' and many an evening have I passed at
      his Auction, better amused than by a farce at the Theatre."
    </p>
    <p>
      They now attempted to cross, but the intervening crowd of carriages, three
      or four deep, and in a line as far as the eye could reach, for the present
      opposed an obstacle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "If I could think of it," said Sparkle, "I'd give you the Ode on his
      Birth-day, which I once saw in MS.&mdash;it is the <i>jeu d'esprit</i> of
      a very clever young Poet, and who perhaps one of these days may be better
      known; but poets, like anatomical subjects, are worth but little till
      dead."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And for this reason, I suppose," says Tom, "their friends and patrons are
      anxious they should rather be starved than die a natural death."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh! now I have it&mdash;let us remain in the Church-yard a few minutes,
      while the carriages pass, and you shall hear it."<span class="pagenum">[274]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Ye hackney-coaches, and ye carts,
          That oft so well perform your parts
          For those who choose to ride,
          Now louder let your music grow&mdash;
          Your heated axles fiery glow&mdash;
          Whether you travel quick or slow-
          In Cheapside.

          For know, "ye ragged rascals all,"
          (As H&mdash;&mdash;- would in his pulpit bawl
          With cheeks extended wide)
          Know, as you pass the crowded way,
          This is the happy natal day
          Of Him whose books demand your stay
          In Cheapside.

          'Twas on the bright propitious morn
          When the facetious Tegcy was born,
          Of mirth and fun the pride,
          That Nature said "good Fortune follow,
          Bear him thro' life o'er hill and hollow,
          Give him the Temple of Apollo
          In Cheapside."

          Then, O ye sons of Literature!
          Shew your regard for Mother Nature,
          Nor let her be denied:
          Hail! hail the man whose happy birth
          May tell the world of mental worth;
          They'll find the best books on the earth
          In Cheapside.
</pre>
    <p>
      "Good!" exclaimed Bob; "but we will now endeavour to make our way across,
      and take a peep at the subject of the Ode."
    </p>
    <p>
      Finding the auction had not yet commenced, Sparkle proposed adjourning to
      the Burton Coffee House in the adjacent passage, taking a nip of ale by
      way of refreshment and exhilaration, and returning in half an hour. This
      proposition was cordially agreed to by all, except Tallyho, whose
      attention was engrossed by a large collection of Caricatures which lay
      exposed in a portfolio on the table beneath the rostrum. The irresistible
      broad humour of the subjects had taken fast hold of his risible muscles,
      and in turning them over one after the other, he found it difficult to
      part with such a rich fund of humour, and still more so to stifle the
      violent emotion it excited. At length, clapping his hands to his sides, he
      gave full vent to the impulse in a horse-laugh from a pair of truly
      Stentorian lungs, and was by main force dragged out by his companions.
    </p>
    <p>
      While seated in the comfortable enjoyment of their nips of ale, Sparkle,
      with his usual vivacity, began an elucidation of the subjects they had
      just left. "The collection of Caricatures," said he, "which is considered
      the largest in London, are mostly from the pencil of that self-taught
      artist, the late George Woodward, and display not only a genuine and
      original style of humour in the design, but a corresponding and
      appropriate character in the dialogue, or speeches connected with the
      figures. Like his contemporary in another branch of the art, George
      Morland, he possessed all the eccentricity and thoughtless improvidence so
      common and frequently so fatal to genius; and had not his good fortune led
      him towards Bow Church, he must have suffered severe privations, and
      perhaps eventually have perished of want. Here, he always found a ready
      market, and a liberal price for his productions, however rude or hasty the
      sketch, or whatever might be the subject of them."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[275]</span> "As to books," continued he, "all ages,
      classes, and appetites, may be here suited. The superficial dabbler in,
      and pretender to every thing, will find collections, selections, beauties,
      flowers, gems, &amp;c. The man of real knowledge may here purchase the
      elements, theory, and practice of every art and science, in all the
      various forms and dimensions, from a single volume, to the Encyclopedia at
      large. The dandy may meet with plenty of pretty little foolscap volumes,
      delightfully hot-pressed, and exquisitely embellished; the contents of
      which will neither fatigue by the quantity, nor require the laborious
      effort of thought to comprehend. The jolly <i>bon-vivant</i> and Bacchanal
      will find abundance of the latest songs, toasts, and sentiments; and the
      Would-be-Wit will meet with Joe Miller in such an endless variety of new
      dresses, shapes, and sizes, that he may fancy he possesses all the
      collected wit of ages brought down to the present moment. The young
      Clerical will find sermons adapted to every local circumstance, every rank
      and situation in society, and may furnish himself with a complete stock in
      trade of sound orthodox divinity; while the City Epicure may store himself
      with a complete library on the arts of confectionary, cookery, &amp;c,
      from Apicius, to the "Glutton's Almanack." The Demagogue may furnish
      himself with flaming patriotic speeches, ready cut and dried, which he has
      only to learn by heart against the next Political Dinner, and if he should
      not 'let the cat out,' by omitting to substitute the name of Londonderry
      for Cæsar, he may pass off for a second Brutus, and establish an equal
      claim to oratory with Burke, Pitt, and Fox. The&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Auction will be over," interrupted Bob, "before you get half through your
      descriptive Catalogue of the Books, so finish your nip, and let us be
      off."
    </p>
    <p>
      They entered, and found the Orator hard at it, knocking down with all the
      energy of a Crib, and the sprightly wit of a Sheridan. Puns, bon mots, and
      repartees, flew about like crackers.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The next lot, Gentlemen, is the Picture of London,&mdash;impossible to
      possess a more useful book&mdash;impossible to say what trouble and
      expence may be avoided by the possession of this little volume. When your
      Country Cousins pay you a visit, what a bore, what an expence, to be day
      after day leading them about&mdash;taking them up the Monument&mdash;down
      the Adelphi&mdash;round St. Paul's&mdash;across the <span class="pagenum">[276]</span>
      Parks, through the new Streets&mdash;along the Strand, or over the Docks,
      the whole of which may be avoided at the expence of a few shillings. You
      have only to clap into their pocket in the morning this invaluable little
      article, turn them out for the day, and, if by good luck they should not
      fall into the hands of sharpers and swindlers, your dear Coz will return
      safe home at night, with his head full of wonders, and his pockets empty
      of cash!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "The d&mdash;&mdash;l," whispered Bob, "he seems to know me, and what
      scent we are upon."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye," replied his Cousin, "he not only knows you, but he knows that some
      of your cash will soon be in his pockets, and has therefore made a dead
      set at you."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Next lot, Gentlemen, is a work to which my last observation bore some
      allusion; should your friends, as I then observed, fortunately escape the
      snares and dangers laid by sharpers and swindlers to entrap the unwary,
      you may, perchance, see them safe after their day's ramble; but should&mdash;aye,
      Gentlemen, there's the rub&mdash;should they be caught by the numerous
      traps and snares laid for the Johnny Raw and Greenhorn in this great and
      wicked metropolis, God knows what may become of them. Now, Gentlemen, we
      have a remedy for every disease&mdash;here is the London Spy or Stranger's
      Guide through the Metropolis; here all the arts, frauds, delusions, &amp;c.
      are exposed, and&mdash;Tom, give that Gentleman change for his half crown,
      and deliver Lot 3.&mdash;As I was before observing, Gentlemen&mdash;Turn
      out that young rascal who is making such a noise, cracking nuts, that I
      can't hear the bidding.&mdash;Gentlemen, as I before observed, if you will
      do me the favour of bidding me&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Good night, Sir," cried a younker, who had just exploded a detonating
      cracker, and was making his escape through the crowd.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The next lot, gentlemen, is the Young Man's best Companion, and as your
      humble Servant is the author, he begs to decline any panegyric&mdash;modesty
      forbids it&mdash;but leaves it entirely with you to appreciate its merits&mdash;two
      shillings&mdash;two and six&mdash;three shillings&mdash;three and six&mdash;four,
      going for four&mdash;for you, Sir, at four."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Me, Sir! Lord bless you, I never opened my mouth!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Perfectly aware of that, Sir, it was quite unnecessary&mdash;I could read
      your intention in your eye&mdash;and observed the muscle of the mouth,
      call'd by anatomists the
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[277]</span> <i>zygomaticus major</i>, in the act of
      moving. I should have been dull not to have noticed it&mdash;and rude not
      to have saved you the trouble of speaking: Tom, deliver the Gentleman the
      lot, and take four shillings."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, Sir, I certainly feel flattered with your acute and polite
      attention, and can do no less than profit by it&mdash;so hand up the lot&mdash;cheap
      enough, God knows."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And pray," said Dashall to his Cousin as they quitted, "what do you
      intend doing with all your purchases? why it will require a waggon to
      remove them."
    </p>
    <p>
      "O, I shall send the whole down to Belville Hall: our friends there will
      be furnished with a rare stock of entertainment during the long winter
      evenings, and no present I could offer would be half so acceptable."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," remarked Mortimer, "you bid away bravely, and frequently in your
      eagerness advanced on yourself: at some sales you would have paid dearly
      for this; but here no advantage was taken, the mistake was explained, and
      the bidding declined in the most fair and honourable manner. I have often
      made considerable purchases, and never yet had reason to repent, which is
      saying much; for if I inadvertently bid for, and had a lot knocked down to
      me, which I afterwards disliked, I always found an acquaintance glad to
      take it off my hands at the cost, and in several instances have sold or
      exchanged to considerable advantage. One thing I am sorry we overlooked: a
      paper entitled, "Seven Reasons," is generally distributed during the Sale,
      and more cogent reasons I assure you could not be assigned, both for
      purchasing and reading in general, had the seven wise men of Greece drawn
      them up. You may at any time procure a copy, and it will furnish you with
      an apology for the manner in which you have spent your time and money, for
      at least one hour, during your abode in London."
    </p>
    <p>
      Please, Sir, to buy a ha'porth of matches, said a poor, squalid little
      child without a shoe to her foot, who was running by the side of Bob&mdash;it's
      the last ha'porth, Sir, and I must sell them before I go home.
    </p>
    <p>
      This address was uttered in so piteous a tone, that it could not well be
      passed unheeded.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why," said Tallyho, "as well as Bibles and Schools for all, London seems
      to have a match for every body."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Forty a penny, Spring-radishes," said a lusty bawling <span
      class="pagenum">[278]</span> fellow as he passed, in a voice so loud and
      strong, as to form a complete contrast to the little ragged Petitioner,
      'who held out her handful of matches continuing her solicitations. Bob put
      his hand in his pocket, and gave her sixpence.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We shall never get on at this rate," said Tom; "and I find I must again
      advise you not to believe all you hear and see. These little ragged
      run-abouts are taught by their Parents a species of imposition or
      deception of which you are not aware, and while perhaps you congratulate
      yourself with 'the thought of having done a good act, you are only
      contributing to the idleness and dissipation of a set of hardened beings,
      who are laughing at your credulity; and I suspect this is a case in point&mdash;do
      you see that woman on the opposite side of the way, and the child giving
      her the money?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I do," said Tallyho; "that, I suppose, is her mother?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Probably," continued Dashall&mdash;"now mark what will follow."
    </p>
    <p>
      They stopped a short time, and observed that the Child very soon disposed
      of her last bunch of matches, as she had termed them, gave the money to
      the woman, who supplied her in return with another last bunch, to be
      disposed of in a similar way.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Is it possible?" said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not only possible, but you see it is actual; it is not however the only
      species of deceit practised with success in London in a similar way;
      indeed the trade of match-making has latterly been a good one among those
      who have been willing to engage in it. Many persons of decent appearance,
      representing themselves to be tradesmen and mechanics out of employ, have
      placed themselves at the corners of our streets, and canvassed the
      outskirts of the town, with green bags, carrying matches, which, by
      telling a pityful tale, they induce housekeepers and others, who
      commiserate their situation, to purchase; and, in the evening, are able to
      figure away in silk stockings with the produce of their labours. There is
      one man, well known in town, who makes a very good livelihood by bawling
      in a stentorian voice,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Whow whow, will you buy my good matches,
          Whow whow, will you buy my good matches,
          Buy my good matches, come buy'em of me."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[279]</span> He is usually dressed in something like
      an old military great coat, wears spectacles, and walks with a stick."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And is a match for any body, match him who can,", cried Frank Harry;
      "But, bless your heart, that's nothing to another set of gentry, who have
      infested our streets in clean apparel, with a broom in their hands,
      holding at the same time a hat to receive the contributions of the
      passengers, whose benevolent donations are drawn forth without inquiry by
      the appearance of the applicant."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It must," said Tallyho, "arise from the distresses of the times."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There may be something in that," said Tom; "but in many instances it has
      arisen from the depravity of the times&mdash;to work upon the well-known
      benevolent feelings of John Bull; for those who ambulate the public
      streets of this overgrown and still increasing Metropolis and its
      principal avenues, are continually pestered with impudent impostors, of
      both sexes, soliciting charity&mdash;men and women, young and old, who get
      more by their pretended distresses in one day than many industrious and
      painstaking tradesmen or mechanics do in a week. All the miseries, all the
      pains of life, with tears that ought to be their honest and invariable
      signals, can be and are counterfeited&mdash;limbs, which enjoy the fair
      proportion of nature, are distorted, to work upon humanity&mdash;fits are
      feigned and wounds manufactured&mdash;rags, and other appearances of the
      most squalid and abject poverty, are assumed, as the best engines of
      deceit, to procure riches to the idle and debaucheries to the infamous.
      Ideal objects of commiseration are undoubtedly to be met with, though
      rarely to be found. It requires a being hackneyed in the ways of men, or
      having at least some knowledge of the town, to be able to discriminate the
      party deserving of benevolence; but
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "A begging they will go will go,
          And a begging they will go."
</pre>
    <p>
      The chief cause assigned by some for the innumerable classes of mendicants
      that infest our streets, is a sort of innate principle of independence and
      love of liberty. However, it must be apparent that they do not like to
      work, and to beg they are not ashamed; they are, with very few exceptions,
      lazy and impudent. And then what <span class="pagenum">[280]</span> is
      collected from the humane but deluded passengers is of course expended at
      their festivals in Broad Street, St. Giles's, or some other equally
      elegant and appropriate part of the town, to which we shall at an early
      period pay a visit. Their impudence is intolerable; for, if refused a
      contribution, they frequently follow up the denial with the vilest
      execrations.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "To make the wretched blest,
          Private charity is best."
</pre>
    <p>
      "The common beggar spurns at your laws; indeed many of their arts are so
      difficult of detection, that they are enabled to escape the vigilance of
      the police, and with impunity insult those who do not comply with their
      wishes, seeming almost to say,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "While I am a beggar I will rail,
          And say there is no sin but to be rich;
          And being rich, my virtue then shall be,
          To say there is no vice but beggary."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Begging has become so much a sort of trade, that parents have been known
      to give their daughters or sons the begging of certain streets in the
      metropolis as marriage portions; and some years ago some scoundrels were
      in the practice of visiting the outskirts of the town in sailors' dresses,
      pretending to be dumb, and producing written papers stating that their
      tongues had been cut out by the Algerines, by which means they excited
      compassion, and were enabled to live well."
    </p>
    <p>
      "No doubt it is a good trade," said Merry well, "and I expected we should
      have been made better acquainted with its real advantages by Capt.
      Barclay, of walking and sporting celebrity, who, it was said, had laid a
      wager of 1000L. that he would walk from London to Edinburgh in the assumed
      character of a beggar, pay all his expences of living well on the road,
      and save out of his gains fifty pounds."
    </p>
    <p>
      "True," said Tom, "but according to the best account that can be obtained,
      that report is without foundation. The establishment, however, of the
      Mendicity Society{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The frauds and impositions practised upon the public are
     so numerous, that volumes might be filled by detailing the
     arts that have been and are resorted to by mendicants; and
     the records of the Society alluded to would furnish
     instances that might almost stagger the belief of the most
     credulous. The life of the infamous Vaux exhibits numerous
     instances in which he obtained money under genteel
     professions, by going about with a petition soliciting the
     aid and assistance of the charitable and humane; and
     therefore are continually cheats who go from door to door
     collecting money for distressed families, or for charitable
     purposes. It is, however, a subject so abundant, and
     increasing by every day's observation, that we shall for the
     present dismiss it, as there will be other opportunities in
     the course of the work for going more copiously into it.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[281]</span> is calculated to discover much on this
      subject, and has already brought to light many instances of depravity and
      deception, well deserving the serious consideration of the public."
    </p>
    <p>
      As they approached the end of the Poultry,&mdash;"This," said Dashall, "is
      the heart of the first commercial city in the known world. On the right is
      the Mansion House, the residence of the Lord Mayor for the time being."
    </p>
    <p>
      The moon had by this time almost withdrawn her cheering beams, and there
      was every appearance, from the gathering clouds, of a shower of rain.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is rather a heavy looking building, from what I can see at present,"
      replied Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad!" said Tom, "the appearance of every thing at this moment is gloomy,
      let us cross."
    </p>
    <p>
      With this, they crossed the road to Debatt's the Pastry Cook's Shop.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds!" said Tom, casting his eye upon the clock, "it is after ten; I
      begin to suspect we must alter our course, and defer a view of the east to
      a more favourable opportunity, and particularly as we are likely to have
      an accompaniment of water."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind," said Merrywell, "we can very soon be in very comfortable
      quarters; besides, a rattler is always to be had or a comfortable lodging
      to be procured with an obliging bed-fellow&mdash;don't you begin to croak
      before there is any occasion for it&mdash;what has time to do with us?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye aye," said Frank Harry, "don't be after damping us before we get wet;
      this is the land of plenty, and there is no fear of being lost&mdash;come
      along."
    </p>
    <p>
      "On the opposite side," said Tom, addressing his Cousin, "is the Bank of
      England; it is a building of large extent and immense business; you can
      now only discern its exterior by the light of the lamps; it is however a
      place <span class="pagenum">[282]</span> to which we must pay a visit, and
      take a complete survey upon some future occasion. In the front is the
      Royal Exchange, the daily resort of the Merchants and Traders of the
      Metropolis, to transact their various business."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Merry well, "I find we are all upon the right scent&mdash;Frank
      Harry has promised to introduce us to a house of well known resort in this
      neighbourhood&mdash;we will shelter ourselves under the staple commodity
      of the country&mdash;for the Woolsack and the Woolpack, I apprehend, are
      synonimous."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well thought of, indeed," said Dashall; "it is a house where you may at
      all times be certain of good accommodation and respectable society&mdash;besides,
      I have some acquaintance there of long standing, and may probably meet
      with them; so have with you, my boys. The Woolpack in Cornhill," continued
      he, addressing himself more particularly to Tallyho, "is a house that has
      been long established, and deservedly celebrated for its general
      accommodations, partaking as it does of the triple qualifications of
      tavern, chop-house, and public-house. Below stairs is a commodious room
      for smoking parties, and is the constant resort of foreigners,{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 There is an anecdote related, which strongly induces a
     belief that Christian VII. while in London, visited this
     house in company with his dissipated companion, Count
     Holcke, which, as it led to the dismissal of Holcke, and the
     promotion of the afterwards unfortunate Struensée, and is
     perhaps not very generally known, we shall give here.

     One day while in London, Count Holcke and Christian vir.
     went to a well-known public-house not far from the Bank,
     which was much frequented by Dutch and Swedish Captains:
     Here they listened to the conversation of the company,
     which, as might be expected, was full of expressions of
     admiration and astonishment at the splendid festivities
     daily given in honour of Christian VII. Count Holcke, who
     spoke German in its purity, asked an old Captain what he
     thought of his King, and if he were not proud of the honours
     paid to him by the English?&mdash;"I think (said the old man
     dryly) that with such counsellors as Count Holcke, if he
     escapes destruction it will be a miracle."&mdash;' Do you know
     Count Holcke, my friend, (said the disguised courtier) as
     you speak of him thus familiarly?'&mdash;"Only by report (replied
     the Dane); but every person in Copenhagen pities the young
     Queen, attributing the coolness which the King shewed
     towards her, ere he set out on his voyage, to the malicious
     advice of Holcke." The confusion of this minion may be
     easier conceived than described; whilst the King, giving the
     Skipper a handful of ducats, bade him <i>speak the truth and
     shame the devil</i>.  As soon, however, as the King spoke in
     Danish, the Skipper knew him, and looking at him with love
     and reverence, said in a low, subdued tone of voice&mdash;"
     Forgive me, Sire, but I cannot forbear my tears to see you
     exposed to the temptations of this extensive and wicked
     Metropolis, under the pilotage of the most dissolute
     nobleman of Denmark." Upon which he retired, bowing
     profoundly to his Sovereign, and casting at Count Holcke a
     look full of defiance and reproach. Holcke's embarrassment
     was considerably increased by this, and he was visibly hurt,
     seeing the King in a manner countenanced the rudeness of the
     Skipper.

     This King, who it should seem determined to see <i>Real Life
     in London</i>, mingled in all societies, participating in their
     gaieties and follies, and by practices alike injurious to
     body and soul, abandoned himself to destructive habits,
     whose rapid progress within a couple of years left nothing
     but a shattered and debilitated hulk afflicted in the
     morning of life with all the imbecility of body and mind
     incidental to extreme old age.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[283]</span> who are particularly partial to the
      brown stout, which they can obtain there in higher perfection than in any
      other house in London. Brokers and others, whose business calls them to
      the Royal Exchange, are also pretty constant visitors, to meet captains
      and traders&mdash;dispose of different articles of merchandise&mdash;engage
      shipping and bind bargains&mdash;it is a sort of under Exchange, where
      business and refreshment go hand in hand with the news of the day, and the
      clamour of the moment; beside which, the respectable tradesmen of the
      neighbourhood meet in an evening to drive dull care away, and converse on
      promiscuous subjects; it is generally a mixed company, but, being
      intimately connected with our object of seeing <i>Real Life in London</i>,
      deserves a visit. On the first floor is a good room for dining, where
      sometimes eighty persons in a day are provided with that necessary meal in
      a genteel style, and at a moderate price&mdash;besides other rooms for
      private parties. Above these is perhaps one of the handsomest rooms in
      London, of its size, capable of dining from eighty to a hundred persons.
      But you will now partake of its accommodations, and mingle with some of
      its company."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had passed the Royal Exchange, and Tom was enlarging
      upon the new erections lately completed; when all at once,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hallo," said Bob, "what is become of our party?" "All right," replied his
      Cousin; "they have given us the slip without slipping from us&mdash;I know
      their movements to a moment, we shall very soon be with them&mdash;this
      way&mdash;this way," said he, drawing Bob into the narrow passage which
      leads to the back of St. Peter's Church, Cornhill&mdash;"this is the track
      we must follow."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho followed in silence till they entered the house, and were greeted
      by the Landlord at the bar with a bow of welcome; passing quickly to the
      right, they were saluted with immoderate volumes of smoke, conveying to
      their olfactory nerves the refreshing fumes of tobacco, and almost taking
      from them the power of sight, except to observe a bright flame burning in
      the middle of the room. Tom darted forward, and knowing his way well, was
      quickly seated by the side of Merrywell, Mortimer, and Harry; while
      Tallyho was seen by those who were invisible to him', groping his way in
      the same direction, amidst the laughter of the company, occasionally
      interlarded with scraps which caught his ear from a gentleman who was at
      the moment reading some of the comments from the columns of the Courier,
      in which he made frequent pauses and observations.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[284]</span> "Why, you can't see yourself for
      smoke," said one; "D&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;n it how hard you tread," said
      another. And then a line from the Reader came as follows&mdash;"The worthy
      Alderman fought his battles o'er again&mdash;Ha, ha, ha&mdash;Who comes
      here 1 upon my word, Sir, I thought you had lost your way, and tumbled
      into the Woolpack instead of the Skin-market.&mdash;' It is a friend of
      mine, Sir.'&mdash;That's a good joke, upon my soul; not arrived yet, why
      St. Martin's bells have been ringing all day; perhaps he is only half-seas
      over&mdash;Don't tell me, I know better than that&mdash;D&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;n
      that paper, it ought to be burnt by&mdash;The fish are all poison'd by the
      Gas-light Company&mdash;Six weeks imprisonment for stealing two dogs!&mdash;Hides
      and bark&mdash;How's sugars to-day?&mdash;Stocks down indeed&mdash;Yes,
      Sir, and bread up&mdash;Presto, be gone&mdash;What d'ye think of that now,
      eh?&mdash;Gammon, nothing but gammon&mdash;On table at four o'clock ready
      dressed and&mdash;Well done, my boy, that's prime."
    </p>
    <p>
      These sentences were uttered from different parts of the room in almost as
      great a variety of voices as there must have been subjects of
      conversation; but as they fell upon the ear of Tallyho without connection,
      he almost fancied himself transported to the tower of Babel amidst the
      confusion of tongues.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Beg pardon," said Tallyho, who by this time had gained a seat by his
      Cousin, and was gasping like a turtle for air&mdash;"I am not used to this
      travelling in the dark; but I shall be able to see presently."
    </p>
    <p>
      "See," said Frank Harry, "who the devil wants to see more than their
      friends around them? and here we are <i>at home to a peg</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[285]</span> "I shall have finished in two minutes,
      Gentlemen," said the Reader,{1} cocking up a red nose, that shone with
      resplendent lustre between his spectacles, and then continuing to read on,
      only listened to by a few of those around him, while a sort of general buz
      of conversation was indistinctly heard from all quarters.
    </p>
    <p>
      They were quickly supplied with grog and segars, and Bob, finding himself
      a little better able to make use of his eyes, was throwing his glances to
      every part of the room, in order to take a view of the company: and while
      Tom was congratulated by those who knew him at the <i>Round Table</i>&mdash;Merrywell
      and Harry were in close conversation with Mortimer.
    </p>
    <p>
      At a distant part of the room, one could perceive boxes containing small
      parties of convivials, smoking and drinking, every one seeming to have
      some business of importance to claim occasional attention, or engaged in,
    </p>
    <p>
      "The loud laugh that speaks the vacant mind." In one corner was a stout
      swarthy-looking man, with large whiskers and of ferocious appearance,
      amusing those around him with conjuring tricks, to their great
      satisfaction and delight; nearly opposite the Reader of the Courier, sat
      an elderly Gentleman{2} with grey hair, who heard
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 To those who are in the habit of visiting this room in an
     evening, the character alluded to here will immediately be
     familiar. He is a gentleman well known in the neighbourhood
     as an Auctioneer, and he has a peculiar manner of reading
     with strong emphasis certain passages, at the end of which
     he makes long pauses, laughs with inward satisfaction, and
     not infrequently infuses a degree of pleasantry in others.
     The Courier is his favourite paper, and if drawn into an
     argument, he is not to be easily subdued.

          "At arguing too each person own'd his skill,
           For e'en tho' vanquish'd, he can argue still."

     2 This gentleman, who is also well known in the room, where
     he generally smokes his pipe of an evening, is plain and
     blunt, but affable and communicative in his manners&mdash;bold in
     his assertions, and has proved himself courageous in
     defending them&mdash;asthmatic, and by some termed phlegmatic;
     but an intelligent and agreeable companion, unless thwarted
     in his argument&mdash;a stanch friend to the late Queen and the
     constitution of his country, with a desire to have the
     <i>Constitution, the whole Constitution, and nothing but the
     Constitution</i>.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[286]</span> what was passing, but said nothing; he
      however puffed away large quantities of smoke at every pause of the
      Reader, and occasionally grinn'd at the contents of the paper, from which.
      Tallyho readily concluded that he was in direct political opposition to
      its sentiments.
    </p>
    <p>
      The acquisition of new company was not lost upon to those who were seated
      at the round table, and it was not long before the Hon. Tom Dashall was
      informed that they hoped to have the honour of his Cousin's name as a
      member; nor were they backward in conveying a similar hint to Frank Harry,
      who immediately proposed his two friends, Mortimer and Merry well; an
      example which was followed by Tom's proposing his Cousin.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2image-0001" id="link2image-0001">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page286.jpg" alt="Page286 Road to a Fight " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      Such respectable introductions could not fail to meet the approbation of
      the Gentlemen present,&mdash;consequently they were unanimously elected
      Knights of the Round Table, which was almost as quickly supplied by the
      Waiter with a capacious bowl of punch, and the healths of the newmade
      Members drank with three times three; when their attention was suddenly
      drawn to a distant part of the room, where a sprightly Stripling, who was
      seated by the swarthy Conjuror before mentioned, was singing the following
      Song:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                    THE JOYS OF A MILL,
                           OR
                    A TODDLE TO A FIGHT.
</pre>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "Now's the time for milling, boys, since all the world's agog
     for it,
     Away to Copthorne, Moulsey Hurst, or Slipperton they go;
     Or grave or gay, they post away, nay pawn their very togs
     for it,
     And determined to be up to all, go down to see the show:
     Giddy pated, hearts elated, cash and courage all to view it,
     Ev'ry one to learn a bit, and tell his neighbours how to do it;
     E'en little Sprites in lily whites, are fibbing it and rushing it,
     Your dashing Swells from Bagnigge Wells, are flooring it and
     flushing it:

     Oh! 'tis a sight so gay and so uproarious,
     That all the world is up in arms, and ready for a fight.
     The roads are so clogg'd, that they beggar all description now,
     With lads and lasses, prim'd and grogg'd for bang-up fun and
     glee;
     Here's carts and gigs, and knowing prigs all ready to kick up a row,
     And ev'ry one is anxious to obtain a place to see;
     Here's a noted sprig of life, who sports his tits and clumner too,
     And there is Cribb and Gully, Belcher, Oliver, and H armer too,
     With Shelton, Bitton, Turner, Hales, and all the lads to go it well,
     Who now and then, to please the Fancy, make opponents know it
     well:

     Oh! 'tis a sight, &amp;c.
     But now the fight's begun, and the Combatants are setting to,
     Silence is aloud proclaim'd by voices base and shrill;
     Facing, stopping&mdash;-fibbing, dropping&mdash;claret tapping&mdash;betting too&mdash;
     Reeling, rapping&mdash;physic napping, all to grace the mill;
     Losing, winning&mdash;horse-laugh, grinning&mdash;mind you do not glance
     away,
     Or somebody may mill your mug, and of your nob in Chancery;
     For nobs and bobs, and empty fobs, the like no tongue could ever
     tell&mdash;
     See, here's the heavy-handed Gas, and there's the mighty Non-
     pareil:

     Oh! 'tis a sight, &amp;c.
     Thus milling is the fashion grown, and ev'ry one a closer is;
     With lessons from the lads of fist to turn out quite the thing;
     True science may be learn'd where'er the fam'd Mendoza is,
     And gallantry and bottom too from Scroggins, Martin, Spring;
     For sparring now is all the rage in town, and country places
     too,
     And collar-bones and claret-mugs are often seen at races too;
     While counter-hits, and give and take, as long as strength can
     hold her seat,
     Afford the best amusement in a bit of pugilistic treat:

     Oh! 'tis a sight, &amp;c.
</pre>
    <p>
      While this song was singing, universal silence prevailed, but an uproar of
      approbation followed, which lasted for some minutes, with a general call
      of encore, which however soon subsided, and the company was again restored
      to their former state of conversation; each party appearing distinct,
      indulged in such observations and remarks as were most suitable or
      agreeable to themselves.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob was highly pleased with this description of a milling match; and as
      the Singer was sitting near the person who had excited a considerable
      portion of his attention at intervals in watching his tricks, in some of
      which great ingenuity was displayed, he asked his Cousin if he knew him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Know him," replied Tom, "to be sure I do; that is no other than Bitton, a
      well-known pugilist, who frequently exhibits at the Fives-Court; he is a
      Jew, and employs his time in giving lessons."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds!" said Mortimer, "he seems to have studied the art of Legerdemain
      as well as the science of Milling."
    </p>
    <p>
      "He is an old customer here," said a little Gentleman at the opposite side
      of the table, drawing from his pocket a box of segars{1}&mdash;"Now, Sir,"
      continued he, "if you wish for a treat," addressing himself to Tallyho,
      "allow me to select you one&mdash;there, Sir, is asgar like a nosegay&mdash;I
      had it from a friend of mine who only arrived yesterday&mdash;you don't
      often meet with such, I assure you."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob accepted the offer, and was in the act of lighting it, when Bitton
      approached toward their end of the room with some cards in his hand, from
      which Bob began to anticipate he would shew some tricks upon them.
    </p>
    <p>
      As soon as he came near the table, he had his eye upon the Hon. Tom
      Dashall, to whom he introduced 'himself by the presentation of a card,
      which announced his benefit for the next week at the Fives-Court, when all
      the prime lads of the ring had promised to exhibit.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad!" said Dashall, "it will be an excellent opportunity&mdash;what,
      will you take a trip that way and see the mighty men of fist?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," said Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And mine too," exclaimed Mortimer.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was therefore quickly determined, and each of the party being supplied
      with a ticket, Bitton canvassed the room for other customers, after which
      he again retired to his seat.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said a smartly dressed Gentleman in a white hat, "we have heard a
      song from the other end of the room, I hope we shall be able to muster one
      here."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This gentleman, whose dress and appearance indicate
     something of the Dandy, is a resident in Mark Lane, and
     usually spends his evening at the Round Table, where he
     appears to pride himself upon producing the finest segars
     that can be procured, and generally affords some of his
     friends an opportunity of proving them deserving the
     recommendations with which he never fails to present them.
</pre>
    <p>
      This proposition was received with applause, and, upon Tom's giving a
      hint, Frank Harry was called upon&mdash;the glasses were filled, a toast
      was given, and the bowl was dispatched for a replenish; he then sung the
      following Song, accompanied with voice, manner, and action, well
      calculated to rivet attention and obtain applause:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          PIGGISH PROPENSITIES,

          THE BUMPKIN IN TOWN.

          "A Bumpkin to London one morning in Spring,
          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la,
          Took a fat pig to market, his leg in a string,
          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;
          The clown drove him forward, while piggy, good lack!
          Lik'd his old home so well, he still tried to run back&mdash;
</pre>
    <p>
      (Spoken)&mdash;Coome, coome (said the Bumpkin to himself,) Lunnun is the
      grand mart for every thing; there they have their Auction Marts, their
      Coffee Marts, and their Linen Marts: and as they are fond of a tid-bit of
      country pork, I see no reason why they should not have" a Pork and Bacon
      Mart&mdash;so get on (pig grunts,) I am glad to hear you have a voice on
      the subject, though it seems not quite in tune with my
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de ral la.

          It chanc'd on the road they'd a dreadful disaster,
          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;
          The grunter ran back 'twixt the legs of his master,
          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;
          The Bumpkin he came to the ground in a crack,
          And the pig, getting loose, he ran all the way back!
</pre>
    <p>
      (Spoken)&mdash;Hallo, (said the clown, scrambling up again, and scratching
      his broken head,) to be sure I have heard of sleight-of-hand, hocus-pocus
      and sich like; but by gum this here be a new manouvre called sleight of
      legs; however as no boanes be broken between us, I'll endeavour to make
      use on 'em once more in following the game in view: so here goes, with a
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Hey derry, ho derry, &amp;c.

          He set off again with his pig in a rope,

          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la,
          Reach'd London, and now for good sale 'gan to hope
          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;
          But the pig, being beat 'till his bones were quite sore.
          Turning restive, rush'd in at a brandy-shop door.
</pre>
    <p>
      (Spoken)&mdash;The genteeler and politer part of the world might feel a
      little inclined to call this piggish behaviour; but certainly after a long
      and fatiguing journey, nothing can be more refreshing than a <i>drap of
      the cratur</i>; and deeming this the regular mart for the good stuff, in
      he bolts, leaving his master to sing as long as he pleased&mdash;Hey
      derry, he deny, &amp;c.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Here three snuffy Tabbies he put to the rout,

          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai lft,
          With three drams to the quartern, that moment serv'd
          out,
          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;
          The pig gave a grunt, and the clown gave a roar,
          When the whole of the party lay flat on the floor!
</pre>
    <p>
      (Spoken)&mdash;Yes, there they lay all of a lump; and a precious group
      there was of them: The old women, well prun'd with snuff and twopenny, and
      bang-up with gin and bitters&mdash;the fair ones squalled; the clown
      growled like a bear with a broken head; the landlord, seeing all that
      could be seen as they roll'd over each other, stared, like a stuck pig!
      while this grand chorus of soft and sweet voices from the swinish
      multitude was accompanied by the pig with his usual grunt, and a
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Hey derry, ho derry, &amp;o.

          The pig soon arose, and the door open flew,

          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de ral la,
          When this scrambling group was expos'd to my view,
          Hey deny, ho derry, fal de ral la;
          He set off again, without waiting for Jack,
          And not liking London, ran all the way back!
</pre>
    <p>
      (Spoken)&mdash;The devil take the pig! (said the Bumpkin) he is more
      trouble than enough. "The devil take you (said Miss Sukey Snuffle) for you
      are the greatest hog of the two; I dare say, if the truth was known, you
      are brothers."&mdash;"I declare I never was so exposed in all my life
      (said Miss Delia Doldrum.) There's my beautiful bloom petticoat, that
      never was rumpled before in all my life&mdash;I'm quite shock'd!"&mdash;"Never
      mind, (said the landlord) nobody cares about it; tho' I confess it was a
      shocking affair."&mdash;'I wish he and his pigs were in the horse-pond
      (continued she, endeavouring to hide her blushes with her hand)&mdash;Oh
      my&mdash;oh my!'&mdash;"What?" (said Boniface)&mdash;'Oh, my elbow!
      (squall'd out Miss Emilia Mumble) I am sure I shall never get over it.'&mdash;"Oh
      yes you will (continued he) rise again, cheer your spirits with another
      drop of old Tom, and you'll soon be able to sing
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Hey derry, ho derry, &amp;c.

          By mutual consent the old women all swore,

          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la,
          That the clown was a brute, and his pig was a boar,
          Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;
          He paid for their liquor, but grumbled, good lack,
          Without money or pig to gang all the way back.
</pre>
    <p>
      (Spoken)&mdash;By gum (said he to himself, as he turn'd from the door) if
      the Lunneners likes country pork, country pork doant seem to like they;
      and if this be the success I'm to expect in this mighty great town in
      search of the Grand Mart, I'll come no more, for I thinks as how its all a
      flax; therefore I'll make myself contented to set at home in my own
      chimney corner in the country, and sing
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Hey derry, ho derry, &amp;c.
</pre>
    <p>
      This song had attracted the attention of almost every one in the room;
      there was a spirit and vivacity in the singer, combined with a power of
      abruptly changing his voice, to give effect to the different passages, and
      a knowledge of music as well as of character, which gave it an
      irresistible charm; and the company, who had assembled round him, at the
      close signified their approbation by a universal shout of applause.
    </p>
    <p>
      All went on well&mdash;songs, toasts and sentiments&mdash;punch, puns and
      witticisms, were handed about in abundance; in the mean time, the room
      began to wear an appearance of thinness, many of the boxes were completely
      deserted, and the Knights of the Bound Table were no longer surrounded by
      their Esquires&mdash;still the joys of the bowl were exhilarating, and the
      conversation agreeable, though at times a little more in a strain of
      vociferation than had been manifested at the entrance of our party. It was
      no time to ask questions as to the names and occupations of the persons by
      whom he was surrounded; and Bob, plainly perceiving Frank Harry was
      getting into Queer Street, very prudently declined all interrogatories for
      the present, making, however, a determination within himself to know more
      of the house and the company.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mortimer also discovered symptoms of lush-logic, for though he had an
      inclination to keep up the chaff, his dictionary appeared to be new
      modelled, and his lingo abridged by repeated clips at his mother tongue,
      by which he afforded considerable food for laughter.
    </p>
    <p>
      Perceiving this, Tallyho thought it prudent to give his Cousin a hint,
      which was immediately taken, and the party broke up.<span class="pagenum">[292]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link22HCH0003" id="link22HCH0003">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIX
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "O there are swilling wights in London town
          Term'd jolly dogs&mdash;choice spirits&mdash;alias swine,
          Who pour, in midnight revel, bumpers down,
          Making their throats a thoroughfare for wine.

          These spendthrifts, who life's pleasures thus outrun,
          Dosing with head-aches till the afternoon,
          Lose half men's regular estate of Sun,
          By borrowing too largely of the Moon:

          And being Bacchi plenus&mdash;full of wine&mdash;
          Although they have a tolerable notion
          Of aiming at progressive motion,
          Tis not direct, 'tis rather serpentine."
</pre>
    <p>
      UPON leaving the house, it was quickly discovered that Mortimer was at sea
      without a rudder or compass, but was still enabled to preserve the true
      line of beauty, which is said to be in a flowing curve; Merry well was
      magnanimous, Frank Harry moppy, and all of them rather muggy. Harry was
      going Eastward, and the remainder of the party Westward; it was half-past
      one in the morning&mdash;the weather had cleared up as their brains had
      been getting foggy.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom proposed a rattler.
    </p>
    <p>
      Frank Harry swore by the Bacchanalian divinity they might ride in the
      rumble-tumble if they liked, but none of it for him, and began to stammer
      out
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          How sweet in&mdash;the&mdash;wood-lands
          Wi&mdash;ith ii&mdash;eet hound&mdash;and horn&mdash;
          To awaken&mdash;shrill&mdash;[hiccup)&mdash;echo,
          And taste the&mdash;(hiccup)&mdash;fresh morn.
</pre>
    <p>
      During this time, having turned to the right on leaving the Woolpack,
      instead of the left, they were pursuing their way down Gracechurch Street,
      in a line with London Bridge, without discovering their mistake; nor were
      <span class="pagenum">[293]</span> they aware of the situation they were
      in till they reached the Monument.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds!" said Tom, "we are all wrong here."
    </p>
    <p>
      "All right," said Merrywell&mdash;"all right, my boys&mdash;go it, my
      kidwhys."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob hearing his Cousin's exclamation, began to make enquiries.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind," said Tom, "we shall get housed presently&mdash;I have it&mdash;I
      know the shop&mdash;it is but seldom I get out of the way, so come along&mdash;I
      dare say we shall see some more fun yet."
    </p>
    <p>
      Saying this, he led the way down Thames street and in a short time
      introduced them to the celebrated house in Dark-House Lane, kept open at
      all hours of the night for the accommodation of persons coming to market,
      and going off by the Gravesend boats and packets early in the morning.
    </p>
    <p>
      On entering this house of nocturnal convenience, a wide field for
      observation was immediately opened to the mind of Dashall: he was no
      novice to the varieties of character generally to be found within its
      walls; and he anticipated an opportunity of imparting considerable
      information to his Cousin, though somewhat clogg'd by his companions;
      being known however at the bar, he found no difficulty in providing them
      with beds: which being accomplished,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said Tom, "for a new scene in Real Life. Here we are situated at
      Billingsgate, on the banks of the Thames; in another hour it will be all
      alive&mdash;we will refresh ourselves with coffee, and then look around
      us; but while it is preparing, we will take a survey of the interior&mdash;button
      up&mdash;tie a silk handkerchief round your neck, and we may perhaps
      escape suspicion of being mere lookers on; by which means we shall be
      enabled to mingle with the customers in the tap-room, and no doubt you
      will see some rum ones."
    </p>
    <p>
      They now entered the tap or general room, which exhibited an appearance
      beyond the powers of description.
    </p>
    <p>
      In one corner lay a Sailor fast asleep, having taken so much ballast on
      board as to prevent the possibility of any longer attending to the log,
      but with due precaution resting his head on a bundle which he intended to
      take on board his ship with him in the morning, and apparently well
      guarded by a female on each side; in another was a weather-beaten
      Fisherman in a Guernsey frock and a thick <span class="pagenum">[294]</span>
      woollen night-cap, who, having just arrived with a cargo of fish, was
      toiling away time till the commencement of the market with a pipe and a
      pint, by whose side was seated a large Newfoundland dog, whose gravity of
      countenance formed an excellent contrast with that of a man who was
      entertaining the Fisherman with a history of his adventures through the
      day, and who in return was allowed to participate in the repeatedly filled
      pint&mdash;a Waterman in his coat and badge ready for a customer&mdash;and
      two women, each having a shallow basket for the purpose of supplying
      themselves with fish at the first market for the next day's sale.
    </p>
    <p>
      'Going to Gravesend, Gentlemen?' enquired the Waterman, as Tom and Bob
      took their seats near him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "No," was the reply.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Beg pardon, Sir; thought as how you was going down, and mought want a
      boat, that's all; hope no offence."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I vas down at the Frying Pan in Brick Lane yesterday, (said the
      communicative adventurer;) Snivelling Bill and Carrotty Poll was there in
      rum order&mdash;you know Carrotty? Poll? so Poll, (Good health to you) you
      knows how gallows lushy she gets&mdash;veil, as I vas saying, she had had
      a good day vith her fish, and bang she comes back to Bill&mdash;you knows
      she's rather nutty upon Bill, and according to my thinking they manages
      things pretty veil together, only you see as how she is too many for him:
      so, vhen she comes back, b&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;tme if Bill vasn't a
      playing at skittles, and hadn't sold a dab all day; howsomdever he was a
      vinning the lush, so you know Bill didn't care&mdash;but, my eyes! how she
      did blow him up vhen she com'd in and see'd him just a going to bowl and
      tip, she tipp'd him a vollopper right across the snout vhat made the
      skittles dance again, and bang goes the bowl at her sconce instead of the
      skittles: it vas lucky for her it did not hit her, for if it had, I'll be
      d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d if ever she'd a cried Buy my live flounders any
      more&mdash;he vas at play vith Sam Stripe the tailor; so the flea-catcher
      he jumps in between 'em, and being a piece-botcher, he thought he could be
      peace-maker, but it voudn't do, tho' he jump'd about like a parch'd pea in
      a frying-pan&mdash;Poll called him Stitch louse, bid him pick up his
      needles and be off&mdash;Bill vanted to get at Poll, Poll vanted to get at
      Bill&mdash;and between them the poor Tailor got more stripes upon his
      jacket than there is colours in a harlequin's breeches at Bartlemy Fair&mdash;Here's
      good health to you&mdash;it was a <span class="pagenum">[295]</span>
      bodkin to a but of brandy poor Snip didn't skip out of this here vorld
      into that 'are?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "And how did they settle it?" enquired the Fisherman.
    </p>
    <p>
      'I'll tell you all about it: I never see'd such a b&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;dy
      lark in all my life; poor Sam is at all times as thin as a thread-paper,
      and being but the ninth part of a man, he stood no chance between a man
      and a voman&mdash;Bill vas bleeding at the konk like a half-killed hog,
      and Carrotty Moll, full of fire and fury, vas defending herself vith her
      fish-basket&mdash;Billy vas a snivelling, Poll a stoearing, and the poor
      Tailor in a funk&mdash;thinks I to myself, this here vont never do&mdash;so
      up I goes to Poll&mdash;Poll, says I&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;' To the devil I
      pitch you,' says she&mdash;only you know I knows Poll veil enough&mdash;she
      tried to sneak it over me, but she found as how I know'd better&mdash;Poll,
      says I, hold your luff&mdash;give us no more patter about this here rum
      rig&mdash;I'll give cost price for the fish, and you shall have the money;
      and while I was bargaining with her, d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;n me if Bill
      and the Tailor vasn't a milling avay in good style, till Stripe's wife
      comes in, gives Snivelling Billy a cross-buttock and bolted off vith her
      fancy, like as the song says, The devil took the tailor
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Vith the broad cloth under his arm."
</pre>
    <p>
      I never laugh'd so in all my life; I thought I should&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;'
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment a nod from the Landlord informed Tom his coffee was ready,
      when they were ushered into the parlour.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob, who had during the conversation in the other room, (which had
      occasionally been interrupted by the snores of the sleepy Sailor, the
      giggling of the Girls who appeared to have him in charge, and a growl from
      the dog,) been particularly attentive to the narration of this adventure,
      remarked that there was a peculiarity of dialect introduced, which, to a
      person coming out of the country, would have been wholly unintelligible.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," replied Tom, "almost every trade and every calling of which the
      numerous inhabitants of this overgrown town is composed, has a language of
      its own, differing as widely from each other as those of provincials. Nor
      is this less observable in high life, where every one seems at times to
      aim at rendering himself conspicuous for some extraordinary mode of
      expression. But come, I <span class="pagenum">[296]</span> perceive the
      morning is shedding its rays upon us, and we shall be able to take a
      survey of the more general visitors to this place of extensive utility and
      resort&mdash;already you may hear the rumbling of carts in Thames Street,
      and the shrill voice of the Fishwives, who are preparing for a day's work,
      which they will nearly finish before two-thirds of the population leave
      their pillows. This market, which is principally supplied by fishing
      smacks and boats coming from the sea up the river Thames, and partly by
      land carriage from every distance within the limits of England, and part
      of Wales, is open every morning at day-light, and supplies the retailers
      for some miles round the Metropolis. The regular shop-keepers come here in
      carts, to purchase of what is called the Fish Salesman, who stands as it
      were between the Fisherman who brings his cargo to market and the
      Retailer; but there are innumerable hawkers of fish through the streets,
      who come and purchase for themselves at first hand, particularly of
      mackarel, herrings, sprats, lobsters, shrimps, flounders, soles, &amp;c.
      and also of cod and salmon when in season, and at a moderate rate,
      composing an heterogeneous group of persons and characters, not easily to
      be met with elsewhere." "Then," said Bob, "there is a certainty of high
      and exalted entertainment;&mdash;I should suppose the supply of fish is
      very considerable."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The quantity of fish consumed," replied Tom, "in London is comparatively
      small, fish being excessively dear in general: and this is perhaps the
      most culpable defect in the supply of the capital, considering that the
      rivers of Great Britain and the seas round her coast teem with that food.&mdash;There
      are on an average about 2500 cargoes of fish, of 40 tons each, brought to
      Billingsgate, and about 20,000 tons by land carriage, making a total of
      about 120,000 tons; and the street venders form a sample of low life in
      all its situations.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;In such indexes, although small
          To their subsequent volumes, there is seen
          The baby figure of the giant mass
          Of things to come at large."
</pre>
    <p>
      And the language you have already heard forms a part of what may be termed
      Cockneyism."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Cockneyism," said Bob, with an inquisitiveness in his countenance.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[297]</span> "Yes," continued Tom, "Cockney is
      universally known to be the contemptuous appellation given to an
      uneducated native of London, brought into life within the sound of Bow
      bell&mdash;pert and conceited, yet truly ignorant, they generally discover
      themselves by their mode of speech, notwithstanding they have frequent
      opportunities of hearing the best language; the cause, I apprehend, is a
      carelessness of every thing but the accumulation of money, which is
      considered so important with them&mdash;that they seem at all times to be
      in eager pursuit of it.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "O Plutus, god of gold!   thine aid impart,
          Teach me to catch the money-catching art;
          Or, sly Mercurius!  pilfering god of old,
          Thy lesser mysteries at least unfold."
</pre>
    <p>
      You will hear these gentry frequently deliver themselves in something like
      the following manner:
    </p>
    <p>
      "My eyes, Jim, vat slippy valking 'tis this here morning&mdash;I should
      ave fell'd right down if so be as how I adn't cotch'd ould of a postis&mdash;vere
      does you thinks I ave been? vy all the vay to Vapping Vail, an a top o
      Tower Hill&mdash;I seed a voman pillar'd&mdash;such scrouging and
      squeeging, and peltin vith heggs&mdash;ow funny!
    </p>
    <p>
      "A female Fruit-seller will say to a Lady Oyster-dealer&mdash;Law, my dear
      Mrs. Melton, how ar you this cowld morning, Mem.?&mdash;the streets vil be
      nice and dirty&mdash;vel, for my part, I always likes dry vether&mdash;do
      your usband vork at Foxall still?&mdash;I likes to warm my cowld nose vith
      a pinch of your snuff&mdash;ow wery obliging&mdash;But come, I hear the
      bustle of Billingsgate, and you shall have a peep at the people. By this
      time they are all alive."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob laughed at his Cousin's specimens of cockney language, and they
      sallied forth, to make further observations.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was now a fine morning, the Sun shone with resplendent lustre upon all
      around them, and danced in playful dimples on the sportive Thames; there
      was however but little opportunity at the moment for them to contemplate
      subjects of this sort, their eyes and ears being wholly attracted by the
      passing and repassing of the persons desirous to sell or supply themselves
      with fish; Thames Street was almost blocked up with carts, and the
      hallooing and bawling of the different drivers, loading or unloading,
      formed an occasional symphony to the <span class="pagenum">[298]</span>
      continual hum of those who were moving in all directions to and from the
      market.
    </p>
    <p>
      "By yer leaf" said a sturdy built fellow, sweating under a load of fish
      which appeared to press him almost down&mdash;"what the devil do you stand
      in the way for?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob, in stepping on one side to make room for this man to pass,
      unfortunately trod upon the toe of an Hibernian lady, who was bearing away
      a large basket of shrimps alive, and at the same time gave her arm so
      forcible a jerk with his elbow, as disengaged her hand from the load; by
      which means the whole cargo was overturned smack into the bosom of a
      smartly dressed youth in white ducks, who was conducting some Ladies on
      board one of the Gravesend boats. The confusion that followed is scarcely
      to be conceived&mdash;the agitation of Talt who at hearing the vociferated
      lamentations of the Irish woman&mdash;the spluttering of the disconcerted
      Dandy&mdash;the declaration of the owner of the shrimps, "that so help her
      God he should pay for her property"&mdash;the loud laughter of those
      around them, who appeared to enjoy the embarrassment of the whole party&mdash;and
      the shrimps hopping and jumping about amid the dirt and slush of the
      pavement, while the Ladies were hunting those which had fallen into the
      bosom of their conductor&mdash;formed a scene altogether, which, in spite
      of the confusion of his Cousin, almost convulsed the Hon. Tom Dashall with
      laughter, and which served but to increase the rancour of the owner of the
      shrimps, and the poor toe-suffering Irishwoman, the execrations of the
      Dandy Gentleman and his Ladies, and the miseries of poor Bob; to escape
      from which, he gave the Hibernian and her employer enough to purchase
      plaster for the one, and a fresh cargo for the other, and seizing Tom by
      the arm, dragged him away from the scene of his misfortunes in fishery.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2image-0002" id="link2image-0002">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page298.jpg" alt="Page298 Real Life at Billingsgate "
      width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      Their progress however was presently impeded by a sudden scream, which
      appeared to come from a female, and .drew together almost all the people
      on the spot, it seemed as if it had been a preconcerted signal for a
      general muster, and it was quickly ascertained that fisty-cuffs were the
      order of the day, by the vociferations of the spectators, and the loud
      acclamations of "Go it, Poll&mdash;pitch it into her&mdash;mill her
      snitcher&mdash;veil done, Sail&mdash;all pluck&mdash;game to the back-bone&mdash;peppermint
      her upper-story, and grapple her knowledge-box&mdash;D&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;n
      my eyes, but that vas a good one, it <span class="pagenum">[299]</span>
      has altered her weather-cock and shifted her wind&mdash;There's your
      dairies&mdash;stand out of the way&mdash;Upon my sole you have overturned
      all my flounders&mdash;D&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;n you and your dabbs too."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom and Bob took up a favourable position for observation at the corner of
      a fish-stall, where they could quietly witness the combatants, and take a
      general survey of the proceedings.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said Tom, "here is a lark for you, a female fight."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Fine salmon, or cod, Gentlemen," said an elderly woman&mdash;"I wish I
      could tempt you to be customers."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," said Bob, "they are at it in good earnest."
    </p>
    <p>
      "O yes," said the woman, "we always have it in real earnest, no sham&mdash;I
      wish Poll may sarve her out, for Sall is a d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d saucy b&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;h
      at all times."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And what have they quarrelled about?" inquired Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Jealousy, Sir, nothing else; that there man in the night-cap, with the
      red ruff round his neck, is Sail's fancy man, and he sometimes lets her
      have a cargo of fish for services done and performed, you understand&mdash;and
      so Sail she comes down this morning, and she finds Poll having a phililoo
      with him, that's all; but I wish they would go and have it out somewhere
      else, for it spoils all business&mdash;Nance, go and get us a quartern of
      Jacky, that I may ax these Gentlemen to drink, for its a cold morning, and
      perhaps they are not used to be up so early."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom saw the drift of this in a moment, and taking the hint, supplied the
      needful to Nance, who was dispatched for the heart-cheering beverage,
      which they could perceive was in high reputation by those around them. The
      effluvia of the fish, the fumes of tobacco, and the reviving scent of the
      gin-bottle, rendered their olfactory salutations truly delightful. Nor
      could they escape the Fish-wife without becoming participators in the half
      pint of blue ruin.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Tom, "we will now stroll a little further, and take a survey
      of the street; but first we will give a look here.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This," said he, "is the Custom House, a splendid building recently
      erected, in consequence of the old one being demolished by fire in 1814."
      <span class="pagenum">[300]</span> "It is, indeed," replied Bob, admiring
      the south front, which is executed in Portland stone.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you observe," continued Tom, "the central compartment, which comprises
      what is called the Long Room, and which we will visit presently, is quite
      plain, except the attic, which is elegantly ornamented?&mdash;that
      alto-relievo contains allegorical representations of the arts and
      sciences, as connected with and promoting the commerce and industry of the
      nation&mdash;that to the west, a representation of the costume and
      character of the various nations with whom we hold intercourse in our
      commercial relations&mdash;in the centre, under the large massive
      dial-plate, are inscribed in large bronze letters the names of the
      founders and the date of its erection&mdash;the figures which support the
      dial in a recumbent position are emblematical of industry and plenty&mdash;that
      bold projection in the centre, gives a suitable character to the King's
      warehouse, and forms an appropriate support to the imperial arms upheld by
      the attributes of Ocean and Commerce."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob gazed with admiration and delight on this truly admirable and
      extensive pile of national architecture; the gentle breeze from the river,
      the occasional dash of the oar, and the activity which appeared on board
      the different vessels; together with the view of London Bridge on one
      side, over which he could perceive pedestrians and vehicles of various
      kinds passing and repassing, and the Tower on the other, conspired to
      heighten and give a most imposing effect to the scene.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The designs," said Tallyho, "are truly creditable to the taste and
      science of the architect."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And this Quay in front, is intended to be enlarged by filling up a part
      of the river; besides which, a new wall and quay are to be formed from the
      Tower to Billingsgate, and numerous other improvements are projected in
      the contiguous streets and lanes." "Not before it is necessary," was the
      reply. "It would be impossible," continued Dashall, "to visit all the
      apartments this building contains; we will however have a look at the Long
      Room, and as we proceed I will endeavour to give you some further
      information. We are now entering the East wing, which is a counterpart of
      that on the West, having like this a grand stair-case with a double flight
      of steps, which conduct to a lobby at each end of the long room, lighted
      by <span class="pagenum">[301]</span> these vertical lantern-lights, the
      ceilings being perforated in square compartments, and glazed. These
      lobbies serve to check the great draughts of air which would otherwise
      flow through the room if it opened directly from the stair-case."
    </p>
    <p>
      They now entered the Long Room, the imposing appearance of which had its
      due effect upon Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Bless me!" cried he in a state of ecstasy, "this is a room to boast of
      indeed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," replied his Cousin, "there is not such another room in Europe; it
      is 190 feet long by 66 wide, and proportionably high, divided into three
      compartments by these eight massive pillars, from which, as you perceive,
      spring the three domes, which are so richly ornamented, and ventilated
      through the centre of each."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And all of stone?" inquired Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not exactly so," was the reply; "the floor (excepting the situation of
      the officers and clerks) is of stone, but the walls and ceilings are drawn
      out and tinted in imitation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And what are these antique pedestals for, merely ornaments?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom was pleased at this inquiry, and with a smile of satisfaction replied&mdash;"No,
      these pedestals do double duty, and are something like what the rural
      poet, Goldsmith, describes in his <i>Deserted Village</i>&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The chest contriv'd a double debt to pay,
          A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day."
</pre>
    <p>
      These are ornamental during the summer, but useful in the winter; they
      contain fire-places completely hid from view."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Fire-places," re-echoed Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," continued his Cousin; "the smoke, descending, passes through the
      piers on each side, and by their means a sufficient warmth is at all times
      kept up in the room."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That is a capital contrivance," said Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then, to prevent the possibility of sustaining any serious injury from
      fire, on the ground, one and two pair stories, the communication is cut
      off by means of iron doors, which run on wheels in chase in the centre of
      the walls, and are moved backward and forward by a windlass; which doors
      are closed every evening, and would effectually prevent a communication
      beyond their boundaries. Fire-proof rooms also, as repositories for
      valuable books <span class="pagenum">[302]</span> and papers, are provided
      on each floor, where the important documents of the establishment are
      deposited every evening, and removed in trunks to the respective offices.
      There are in all 121 rooms devoted to various offices. This however is the
      principal: here the general business is transacted, particularly for all
      foreign concerns, both inwards and outwards. The Ship Master first makes
      the report of the cargo here; the entries of which, either for payment of
      duties, warehousing, or subsequent exportation, are all passed with the
      respective officers in this room. The business of the customs is managed
      by nine Commissioners, whose jurisdiction extends over all parts of
      England. We will now pass out at the west wing, adjourn to yon Tavern,
      refresh and refit, and after which a further walk."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," said Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What ho, Master B&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;," said Dashall, saluting the
      Landlord as he entered the Tavern&mdash;"How does the world wag with you?&mdash;send
      us some soda water&mdash;the newspaper&mdash;let somebody clean our boots&mdash;give
      us pen, ink and paper, and prepare us some breakfast with all speed, but
      no fish, mind that."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Landlord bowed assent to his honourable customer; and by the time they
      were ready, their orders were complied with.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pray," inquired Dashall of the obliging Landlord, who came in to ask if
      they were supplied with all they wished for, "did you ever recover any
      thing from that dashing Blade that so obligingly ordered his dinner here?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never got a halfpenny&mdash;no no, he was not one of those sort of gentry&mdash;nor
      do I ever wish to see such again in my house."
    </p>
    <p>
      This was uttered in a tone of discontent, which evidently shewed he had no
      relish for the conversation.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall could not refrain from laughter; upon perceiving which, the
      Landlord withdrew with a loud slam of the door, and left his customers to
      enjoy their mirth.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What are you laughing at?" cried Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why," continued his Cousin,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "There was, as fame reports, in days of yore,
          At least some fifty years ago, or more,
          A pleasant wight on town&mdash;&mdash;"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[303]</span> And there are many pleasant fellows now
      to be met with; but you shall have the tale as I had it: This house has
      been celebrated for furnishing excellent dinners, and the cookery of fish
      in particular; consequently it has been the resort of the Bucks, the
      Bloods, and the dashing Swells of the town, and I myself have been well
      entertained here. It will therefore not be wondered at that its
      accommodations should attract the notice of a Sharper whose name and
      character were well known, but who was in person a total stranger to the
      unsuspecting Landlord, whom however he did not fail to visit.
    </p>
    <p>
      Calling one afternoon for the purpose of seeing how the land lay, in high
      twig, and fashionably dressed, he was supplied with a bottle of sherry,
      and requested the landlord to take a part with him&mdash;praised the wine,
      talked of the celebrity of his house for fish, and gave an order for a
      dinner for sixteen friends during the following week. The bait was
      swallowed,
    </p>
    <p>
      "For a little flattery is sometimes well."
    </p>
    <p>
      'But are your wines of the first quality? (inquired the visitor;) for good
      eating, you know, deserves good drinking, and without that we shall be
      like fishes out of water.'&mdash;' Oh, Sir, no man in London can supply
      you better than myself (was the reply;) but, if you please, you shall
      select which you may like best, my stock is extensive and good.' He was
      consequently invited into the cellar, and tasted from several binns,
      particularly marking what he chose to conceive the best. Upon returning to
      the parlour again&mdash;' Bless me, (cried he) I have had my pocket pick'd
      this morning, and lost my handkerchief&mdash;can you oblige me with the
      loan of one for present use? and I will send it back by one of my
      servants.'
    </p>
    <p>
      'Certainly, Sir,' was the reply; and the best pocket-handkerchief was
      quickly produced, with another bottle of wine, the flavour of which he had
      approved while below. He then wrote a letter, which he said must be
      dispatched immediately by a Ticket-porter to Albemarle Street, where he
      must wait for an answer. This being done, lie desired a coach to be called&mdash;asked
      the Landlord if he had any silver he could accommodate him with, as he had
      occasion to go a little further, but would soon return. This being
      complied with, by the Landlord giving him twenty shillings with the
      expectation of receiving a <span class="pagenum">[304]</span> pound note
      in return, he threw himself into the coach, wished his accommodating Host
      good afternoon, promised to return in less than an hour, but has never
      shewn his face here since. Poor B&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;don't like to hear
      the circumstance mentioned."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds!" said Tallyho, "somebody was green upon the occasion; I thought
      people in London were more guarded, and not so easily to be done. And who
      did he prove to be after all?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No other than the well-known Major Semple, whose depredations of this
      sort upon the public rendered him so notorious."
    </p>
    <p>
      Having finished their repast, Tom was for a move; and they took their way
      along Thames Street in the direction for Tower Hill.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link22HCH0004" id="link22HCH0004">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XX
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "This life is all chequer'd with pleasures and woes
          That chase one another like waves of the deep,
          Each billow, as brightly or darkly it flows,
          Reflecting our eyes as they sparkle or weep;
          So closely our whims on our miseries tread,
          That the laugh is awak'd ere the tear can be dried;
          And as fast as the rain-drop of pity is shed,
          The goose-plumage of folly can turn it aside;
          But, pledge me the cup!  if existence can cloy
          With hearts ever light and heads ever wise,
          Be ours the light grief that is sister to joy,
          And the short brilliant folly that flashes and dies."
</pre>
    <p>
      "THE building before us," said Tom, "is the Tower of London, which was
      formerly a palace inhabited by the various Sovereigns of this country till
      the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Fitzstephens says, it was originally built
      by Julius Cæsar; but I believe there is no proof of the truth of this
      assertion, except that one of the towers is to this day called Cæsar's
      Tower."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It seems a place of great security," said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes&mdash;William the Conqueror erected a fortress on part of its present
      site, to overawe the inhabitants of London on his gaining possession of
      the City, and about twelve years afterwards, in 1078, he erected a larger
      building than the first, either on the site of the former or near it. This
      building, repaired or rebuilt by succeeding Princes, is that which is now
      called the White Tower."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It appears altogether to be a very extensive building," said Tallyho;
      "and what have we here? (turning his eyes to the left)&mdash;the modern
      style of those form a curious contrast to that we are now viewing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That is called Trinity Square, and the beautiful edifice in the centre is
      the Trinity House; it is a new building, of stone, having the advantage of
      rising ground for its site, and of a fine area in the front." <span
      class="pagenum">[306]</span> "The Trinity House," reiterated Bob, "some
      ecclesiastical establishment, I presume, from its title?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "There you are wrong," continued Dashall; "it is a Corporation, which was
      founded in the year 1515 by Henry VIII. and consists of a Master, four
      Wardens, eighteen Elder Brothers, in whom is vested the direction of the
      Company, and an indefinite number of younger Brothers; for any sea-faring
      man may be admitted into the Society by that name, but without any part of
      the controul of its concerns. The elder Brethren are usually selected from
      the most experienced commanders in the navy and the merchants' service,
      with a few principal persons of his Majesty's Government."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But what, in the name of wonder," inquired Bob, "have Sailors to do with
      the Trinity?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "As much as other persons," was the reply; "if it is the anchor of hope,
      as we are taught, they have as great a right to rely upon it as any body
      else&mdash;besides, the names given to houses and places in London have
      nothing to do with their occupations or situations, any more than the
      common language of life has to do with nature; else why have we a Waterloo
      House in the vicinity of St. Giles's for the sale of threads, laces, and
      tapes&mdash;a Fleet for the confinement of prisoners, or the King's Bench
      devoted to the same purposes, unless it is,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "That when we have no chairs at home,
          The King (God bless him) grants us then a bench."
</pre>
    <p>
      Though London contains a round of delights and conveniences scarcely to be
      equalled, it is at the same time a combination of incongruities as
      difficult to be conceived. The denomination of this House has therefore
      nothing to do with the business to which it is devoted. The body which
      transacts its concerns is called The Master, Wardens and Assistants, of
      the Guild, or Fraternity of the most glorious and undivided Trinity, and
      of St. Clement, in the parish of Deptford, Stroud, in the county of Kent."
    </p>
    <p>
      "An admirable illustration of your assertion," replied Bob; "and pray may
      I be allowed, without appearing romantic or unnecessarily inquisitive, to
      ask what are the objects of the Institution?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly. The use of this Corporation is to superintend the general
      interests of the British shipping, military and commercial. To this end,
      the powers of the <span class="pagenum">[307]</span> Corporation are very
      extensive; the principal of which are, to examine the children educated in
      mathematics in Christ's Hospital&mdash;examine the masters of the King's
      ships&mdash;appoint pilots for the Thames&mdash;erect light-houses and
      sea-marks&mdash;grant licenses to poor seamen, not free of the City, to
      row on the Thames&mdash;and superintend the deepening and cleansing of the
      river; they have power to receive donations for charitable purposes, and
      annually relieve great numbers of poor seamen and seamen's widows and
      orphans; and as they alone supply outward-bound ships with ballast, on
      notice of any shoal or obstruction arising in the river Thames, they
      immediately direct their men and lighters to work on it till it is
      removed. The profits arising to the Corporation by this useful regulation
      is very considerable."
    </p>
    <p>
      During this conversation they had continued to walk towards the Trinity
      House, and were now close to it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," continued Dashall, "the interior is worth seeing: there are some
      fine paintings in it, and the fitting up is altogether of an elegant
      description."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon making application at the door, and the customary payment of a
      shilling each, they were admitted. The appearance of the Hall, which is
      grand, though light and elegant, particularly attracted the attention of
      Tallyho. The double stair-case, which leads to the court-room, was an
      object of peculiar delight. The beautiful model of the Royal William in
      the Secretary's Office was much admired; but the Court-room was abundant
      in gratification. Here they were ushered into a spacious
      apartment,*particularly elegant, being unincumbered; the ceiling finished
      in a superior style, and decorated with paintings of the late King and
      Queen&mdash;James the Second&mdash;Lord Sandwich&mdash;Lord Howe, and Mr.
      Pitt. Here Bob wandered from portrait to portrait, examining the features
      and character of each, and admiring the skill and ability of the artists.
      At the upper end of the room he was additionally pleased to find a large
      painting containing a group of about twenty-four of the elder Brethren,
      representing them at full length, attended by their Secretary, the late
      Mr. Court. Many of the persons being well remembered by Dashall, were
      pointed out by him to his Cousin, and brought to his recollection names
      deservedly celebrated, though now no more. This picture was the gift of
      the Merchant Brethren in 1794.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho was much delighted with his survey of this truly elegant building,
      and the luminous account given by <span class="pagenum">[308]</span> his
      Cousin of the various persons whose portraits met his eye, or whose names
      and characters, connected with the establishment, had become celebrated
      for scientific research or indefatigable industry.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It will occupy too much time this morning," said Dashall, "to visit the
      interior of the Tower, as I have dispatched a Ticket-porter to Piccadilly,
      ordering my curricle to be at Tom's Coffee-house at one; we will therefore
      defer that pleasure to the next opportunity of being this way. We will
      however take a look at the Bank and the Exchange, then a trundle into the
      fresh air for an hour, and return home to dinner; so come along, but we
      will vary our walk by taking another road back."
    </p>
    <p>
      With this intention, they now crossed Tower Hill, and turned to the left,
      along the Minories.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here is a place," said Dashall, "well known, and no doubt you have often
      heard of&mdash;Sparrow Corner and Rosemary Lane are better known by the
      appellation of Rag Fair. It is a general mart for the sale of second-hand
      clothes, and many a well-looking man in London is indebted to his
      occasional rambles in this quarter for his appearance. The business of
      this place is conducted with great regularity, and the dealers and
      collectors of old clothes meet at a certain hour of the afternoon to make
      sales and exchanges, so that it is managed almost upon the same plan as
      the Royal Exchange, only that the dealers here come loaded with their
      goods, which must undergo inspection before sales can be effected: while
      the Merchant carries with him merely a sample, or directs his Purchaser to
      the warehouse where his cargo is deposited. The principal inhabitants of
      this place are Jews, and they obtain supplies from the numerous itinerant
      collectors from all quarters of London and its suburbs, whom you must have
      observed parading the streets from the earliest hour of the morning,
      crying <i>Ould clothes&mdash;Clothes sale</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It surely can hardly be a trade worth following," said Talltho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There are many hundreds daily wandering the streets, however," replied
      Tom, "in pursuit of cast-off apparel, rags, and metals of different sorts,
      or at least pretend so. The Jews are altogether a set of traders. I do not
      mean to confine my observations to them only, because there are persons of
      other sects employed in the same kind of business; and perhaps a more
      dangerous set of cheats could <span class="pagenum">[309]</span> scarcely
      be pointed at, as their chief business really is to prowl about the houses
      and stables of people of rank and fortune, in order to hold out
      temptations to their servants, to pilfer and steal small articles not
      likely to be missed, which these fellows are willing to purchase at about
      one-third of their real value. It is supposed that upwards of 15,000 of
      these depraved itinerants among the Jews are daily employed in journeys of
      this kind; by which means, through the medium of base money and other
      fraudulent dealings, many of them acquire property with which they open
      shops, and then become receivers of stolen property; the losses thus
      sustained by the public being almost incalculable&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "For wid coot gould rings of copper gilt&mdash;'tis so he gets his
     bread,
     Wit his sealing-vax of brick-dust, and his pencils without lead."
</pre>
    <p>
      It is estimated that there are from fifteen to twenty thousand Jews in the
      Metropolis, and about five or six thousand more stationed in the great
      provincial and seaport towns. In London they have six Synagogues, and in
      the country places there are at least twenty more. Most of the lower
      classes of those distinguished by name of German or Dutch Jews, live
      principally by their wits, and establish a system of mischievous
      intercourse all over the country, the better to enable them to carry on
      then-fraudulent designs in every way. The pliability of their consciences
      is truly wonderful&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "For they never stick at trifles, if there's monies in the way."
</pre>
    <p>
      Nay, I remember the time when they used to perambulate our streets openly,
      professing to purchase base coin, by bawling&mdash;"Any bad shilling, any
      bad shilling." The interference of the Police however has prevented the
      calling, though perhaps it is impossible to prevent a continuance of the
      practice any more than they can that of utterance. These men hesitate not
      to purchase stolen property, or metals of various kinds, as well as other
      articles pilfered from the Dock-yards, and stolen in the provincial towns,
      which are brought to the Metropolis to elude detection, and vice versa; in
      some cases there are contrivances that the buyer and seller shall not even
      see each other, in order that no advantage may be taken by giving
      information as to the parties." <span class="pagenum">[310]</span> "Upon
      my life, the contrivances of London are almost incomprehensible," said
      Bob, "and might deter many from venturing into it; but this surprises me
      beyond any thing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is however too lamentably true," continued Tom; "for these people,
      educated in idleness from the earliest infancy, acquire every debauched
      and vicious principle which can fit them for the most complicated arts of
      fraud and deception, to which they seldom fail to add the crime of
      perjury, whenever it can be useful to shield themselves or their friends
      from the punishment of the law. Totally without moral education, and very
      seldom trained to any trade or occupation by which they can earn an honest
      livelihood by manual labour&mdash;their youths excluded from becoming
      apprentices, and their females from engaging themselves generally as
      servants, on account of the superstitious adherence to the mere ceremonial
      of their persuasion, as it respects meat not killed by Jews&mdash;nothing
      can exceed their melancholy condition, both as it regards themselves and
      society. Thus excluded from the resources which other classes of the
      community possess, they seem to have no alternative but to resort to those
      tricks and devices which ingenuity suggests, to enable persons without an
      honest means of subsistence to live in idleness.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The richer Jews are in the practice of lending small sums to the poorer
      classes of their community, in order that they may support themselves by a
      species of petty traffic; but even this system contributes in no small
      degree to the commission of crimes, since, in order to render it
      productive to an extent equal to the wants of families who do not acquire
      any material aid by manual labour, they are induced to resort to unlawful
      means of increasing it, by which they become public nuisances. From the
      orange-boy and the retailer of seals, razors, glass and other wares, in
      the public streets, or the collector of
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Old rags, old jags, old bonnets, old bags,"
</pre>
    <p>
      to the shop-keeper, dealer in wearing apparel, or in silver and gold, the
      same principles of conduct too generally prevail.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The itinerants utter base money, to enable them by selling cheap, to
      dispose of their goods; while those who are stationary, with very few
      exceptions, receive and purchase at an under price whatever is brought
      them, <span class="pagenum">[311]</span> without asking questions; and yet
      most of their concerns are managed with so much art, that we seldom hear
      of a Jew being hanged; and it is also a fact, that during the holidays (of
      which they have many in the course of a year,) or at one of their
      weddings, you may see the barrow-woman of yesterday decked out in gay and
      gaudy attire of an expensive nature."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had reached the top of the minories, and were turning
      down Houndsditch. "We are now," said Dashall, "close to another place
      chiefly inhabited by Jews, called Duke's Place, where they have a very
      elegant Synagogue, which has been visited by Royalty, the present King
      having, during his Regency, honoured them with a visit, through the
      introduction of the late Mr. Goldsmid. If it should be a holiday, we will
      be present at the religious ceremonies of the morning." With this they
      entered Duke's Place, and were soon within the walls of this Temple of
      Judaism. In taking a view of it, Bob was much gratified with its splendid
      decorations, and without being acquainted with their forms, had <i>doffd
      his castor</i>,{1} but was presently informed by his Cousin that he must
      keep his hat on. The readers appeared to him to be singers; but the whole
      of the service being Hebrew, it was of little consequence to him, whether
      read or sung. He perceived, during the performances of these prayers,
      which were every now and then joined in by almost every one present, that
      many of the congregation appeared to be in close conversation, which,
      however, was taken no notice of by the persons officiating. He was well
      pleased with the singing of a youth and the accompaniment of a gentleman
      in a cock'd hat; for although he could not discover that he actually
      produced words, he produced sounds in many instances bearing a strong
      similarity to those of a bassoon. The venerable appearance and devotion of
      the High Priest, who was habited in a robe of white, also attracted his
      attention; while the frequent bursts of the congregation, joining in the
      exercises of the morning, in some instances almost provoked his
      risibility.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The religious ceremonies of these people," said Tom, as they left the
      synagogue, "though somewhat imposing as to form and appearance, do not
      seem to be strongly interesting, for many of them are engaged during the
      whole of the service in some species of traffic; buying and
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Doff'd his castor&mdash;Taken off his hat.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[312]</span> selling, or estimating the value of
      goods for sale. They are such determined merchants and dealers, that they
      cannot forget business even in the house of prayer. We have two sets of
      them. This is the Dutch Synagogue; but the most ancient is that of the
      Portuguese, having been established in England ever since the Usurpation.
      The members of it being mostly wealthy, are extremely attentive to their
      poor, among whom there is said not to be a single beggar or itinerant;
      while the Dutch or German. Jews get no education at all: even the most
      affluent of them are said to be generally unable either to read or write
      the language of the country that gave them birth. They confine themselves
      to a bastard or vulgar Hebrew, which has little analogy to the original.
      They observe the particular ritual of the German Synagogue, and also
      include the Polish, Russian, and Turkish Jews established in London. With
      the exception of a few wealthy individuals, and as many families who are
      in trade on the Royal Exchange, they are in general a very indigent class
      of people. Their community being too poor to afford them adequate relief,
      they have resorted to the expedient of lending them small sums of money at
      interest, to trade upon, which is required to be repaid monthly or weekly,
      as the case may be, otherwise they forfeit all claim to this aid.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Portuguese Jews are generally opulent and respectable, and hold no
      community with the others. They use a different liturgy, and their
      language is even different. They never intermarry with the Jews of the
      Dutch Synagogue. They pride themselves on their ancestry, and give their
      children the best education which can be obtained where they reside. The
      Brokers upon the Exchange, of the Jewish persuasion, are all or chiefly of
      the Portuguese Synagogue. Their number is limited to twelve by Act of
      Parliament, and they pay 1000 guineas each for this privilege."
    </p>
    <p>
      They had now reached the end of Houndsditch, when, passing through
      Bishopsgate Church Yard and Broad Street, they were soon at the Bank.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This building," said Dashall, "covers an extent of several acres of
      ground, and is completely isolated."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Its exterior," replied Bob, "is not unsuited to the nature of the
      establishment, as it certainly conveys an idea of strength and security."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[315]</span> "That's true," continued Tom; "but you
      may observe a want of uniformity of design and proportion, arising from
      its having been erected piece-meal, at different periods, and according to
      different plans, by several architects. This is the principal entrance;
      and opposite to it is the shortest street in the Metropolis, called Bank
      Street; it contains but one house. Now we will take a survey of the
      interior."
    </p>
    <p>
      They entered the Hall, where Tallyho was much pleased to be instructed as
      to the methodical way they have of examining notes for a re-issuing or
      exchanging into coin.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here," said Dashall, "are the Drawing-offices for public and private
      accounts. This room is seventy-nine feet long by forty; and, at the
      further end, you observe a very fine piece of sculpture: that is a marble
      Statue of King William III. the founder of the Bank. Thi national
      establishment was first incorporated by act of Parliament in 1694. The
      projector of the scheme was a Mr. James Paterson, a native of Scotland;
      and the direction of its concerns is vested in a Governor,
      Deputy-Governor, and twenty-four Directors, elected annually at a general
      Court of the Proprietors. Thirteen of the Directors, with the Governor,
      form a Court for the transaction of business. The Bank is open every day
      from nine in the morning till five in the afternoon, holidays excepted. It
      is like a little town. The Clerks at present are about 1000 in number, but
      a reduction is intended. The Rotunda is the most interesting apartment&mdash;we
      will go and have a look at the Money-dealers.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here," continued he, as they entered the Rotunda, and mingled among the
      various persons and sounds that are so well known in that seat of traffic,
      "from the hours of eleven to three a crowd of eager Money-dealers
      assemble, and avidity of gain displays itself in ever-varying shapes, at
      times truly ludicrous to the disinterested observer. You will presently
      perceive that the justling and crowding of the Jobbers to catch a bargain,
      frequently exceed in disorder the scrambling at the doors of our theatres
      for an early admission: and sa loud and clamorous at times are the mingled
      noises of the buyers and sellers, that all distinction of sound is lost in
      a general uproar."
    </p>
    <p>
      Of this description, Tallyho had an absolute proof in <span class="pagenum">[314]</span>
      a few minutes, for the mingling variety of voices appeared to leave no
      space in time for distinguishing either the sense or the sound of the
      individual speakers; though it was evident that, notwithstanding the
      continual hubbub, there was a perfect understanding effected between
      parties for the sale and transfer of Stock, according to the stipulations
      bargained for.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha, Mr. M&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "how do you
      do?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Happy to say well, Sir, thank you," was the reply. "Any commands?&mdash;markets
      are pretty brisk this morning, and we are all alive."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pray," said Tallyho, "who is that extraordinary looking Lady with such
      red lips and cheeks, beneath the garb of sadness?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "A constant visitor here," replied Mr. M. "I may say a day scarcely passes
      without her being present."
    </p>
    <p>
      "She has a curious appearance," said Bob; "her dress is all black from
      head to foot, and yet her cheeks disclose the ruddy glow of uninterrupted
      health. Is it that her looks belie her garb, or that her garb belies her
      looks?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hush," said Mr. M. "let her pass, and I will give you some information
      relative to her, which, if it does not gratify you, will at least satisfy
      some of your inquiries. I am half inclined to believe that all is not
      right in the seat of government with her, (pointing his finger to his
      head;) and she is therefore rather deserving of pity than an object of
      censure or ridicule; though I have reason to believe she frequently meets
      with attacks of the latter, when in search of the sympathy and benefit to
      be derived from a proper exercise of the former. Her name is Miss W&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;.
      Her father was formerly a two-penny postman, who resided at Rockingham
      Row, Walworth, and was himself somewhat eccentric in his dress and
      manners, and it was not at all unusual to meet him in the morning in the
      garb of his office, though decidedly against his inclination, and to see
      him on 'Change during 'Change hours, in silk stockings, and in every other
      way dressed as a Merchant, attending there according to custom and
      practice; and he managed, by some means or other, to keep up a character
      of respectability, and to give an accomplished education to the younger
      branches of this family; so that this lady, though unfortunate in her
      present circumstances, has been well brought up, and <span class="pagenum">[315]</span>
      mingled in polished society; and, if you were to enter into conversation
      with her now, you would find her intelligent in the selection of her words
      and the combination of sentences, to explain to you the most improbable
      events, and the most unheard of claims that she has upon all the
      Governments in the known world. This, however, would be done with good
      temper, unless any thing like an insulting observation should be
      conceived, or intended to be conveyed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And, pray, what is supposed to be the cause of her present manners and
      appearance?" inquired Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is principally attributed," replied Mr M. "to the circumstance of
      losing a beloved brother, who she now continually declares is only kept
      from her by the persons who daily visit the Rotunda, with a view to
      prevent the recovery of the property she lays claim to, and the
      particulars of which she generally carries in her pocket. That brother
      however suffered the penalty of the law for a forgery;{1} but this she
      cannot be induced to believe.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The lamentable effusion of blood which has taken place
     within the last twenty years, in consequence of forgeries on
     the Bank of England, has already excited a very considerable
     portion of public interest and indignation; and it is much
     to be feared that notwithstanding the very serious expence
     the Corporation have incurred, with a view to remedy the
     evil, by rendering the imitation more difficult, the
     anticipated result is not likely to be obtained. It will
     hardly be conceived that the Governors have expended as much
     as one hundred thousand pounds in this laudable undertaking,
     and, upon producing an impression, we are told it can be
     imitated by one, who, within three weeks produced a fac-
     simile, and puzzled the makers of the original note to
     discover which was the work-manship of their own hands. Nay,
     even an engraver on wood is said to have produced an
     excellent imitation in a few hours. It is however sincerely
     to be hoped that an effectual stop will be eventually put to
     the possibility of committing this crime, which, we
     apprehend, nine times out of ten brings the poor, needy,
     half-starved retailer of paper to the gallows, while the
     more un-principled wholesale dealer escapes detection.

     While on the subject of forged notes, we cannot help
     deprecating the circulation of what are termed <i>flash
     notes</i>, which, if not originally intended to deceive and
     defraud, are calculated to accomplish these objects, when in
     the hands of the artful and designing. We think there is a
     tradesman in the vicinity of the Bank who presents such of
     his customers as visits his repository to have their hair
     cut, &amp;c. with a Hash note, purporting to be for 501.; and we
     have also reason to believe that more than one attempt has
     been detected, where the parties have really endeavoured to
     pass them as valid Bank of England paper.    The danger
     therefore must be evident.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[316]</span> We have reason to think she is
      frequently much straitened for want of the necessary supplies for
      sustenance, and she has temporary relief occasionally from those who knew
      her family and her former circumstances in life, while she boldly
      perseveres in the pursuit of fancied property, and the restoration of her
      brother.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have heard her make heavy complaints of the difficulties she has had to
      encounter, and the privations she has been subjected to; but her own
      language will best speak the impressions on her mind. Here is a printed
      letter which was circulated by her some time ago:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      To the worthy Inhabitants of the Parish of St. Mary, Newington, Surrey.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is with feelings of deep regret I have to deplore the necessity that
      compels me to adopt a public measure, for the purpose of obtaining my
      property from those gentlemen that hold it in trust. For a period of ten
      years I have endured the most cruel and unjustifiable persecution, which
      has occasioned the premature death of my mother; a considerable loss of
      property; all my personal effects of apparel and valuables; has exposed me
      to the most wanton and barbarous attacks, the greatest insults, and the
      severe and continual deprivation of every common necessary. Having made
      every appeal for my right, or even a maintenance, without effect, I now
      take the liberty of adopting the advice of some opulent friends in the
      parish, and solicit general favour in a loan by subscription for a given
      time, not doubting the liberal commiseration of many ladies and gentlemen,
      towards so great a sufferer. As it is not possible to describe the wrongs
      I have endured, the misery that has been heaped upon me, in so limited a
      space, I shall be happy to give every explanation upon calling for the
      result of this entreaty and to those ladies and gentlemen that condescend
      to favour
    </p>
    <p>
      S. WHITEHEAD
    </p>
    <p>
      With their presence, at
    </p>
    <p>
      The White Hart Inn, Borough.
    </p>
    <p>
      Besides Bills to an immense amount, accepted by the Dey of Algiers, and
      payable by his Grand Plenipotentiary.
    </p>
    <p>
      Various sums in the English and Irish Funds, in the names of various
      Trustees: in the 3 per cent. Consols&mdash;3 per cent. 1726&mdash;3 per
      cent. South Sea Annuities&mdash;3 per cent. Old South Sea Annuities&mdash;4
      per cent. 3 per cent. 5 per cent. Long Annuities.
    </p>
    <p>
      Besides various Freehold, Copyhold, and Leasehold Estates, Reversions and
      Annuities, of incalculable value.
    </p>
    <p>
      One of the Freehold Estates is that known by the name of Ireland's Row,
      and the Brewhouse adjacent, Mile End; the Muswell Hill Estate; a large
      House in Russell Square, tenanted at present by Mr. B&mdash;&mdash;-dd!!!
    </p>
    <p>
      "For the truth of this statement, or the real existence of any property
      belonging to her, I am not able to vouch. She is well known in all the
      offices of this great Establishment, is generally peaceable in her
      conduct, and communicative in her conversation, which at times
      distinguishes her as a person of good education."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hard is the fortune which your Sex attends, Women, like princes, find few
      real friends; All who approach them their own ends pursue, Lovers and
      ministers are seldom true. Hence oft from reason heedless beauty strays,
      And the most trusted guide the most betrays."
    </p>
    <p>
      The conversation was here interrupted by the arrival of a Gentleman, who,
      taking Mr. M. on one side, Tom and Bob wished him a good morning. They
      proceeded to <span class="pagenum">[318]</span> view the various offices
      which branch out from the Rotunda, and which are appropriated to the
      management of each particular stock, in each of which Bob could not help
      admiring the happy disposition of every department to facilitate business.
      The arrangement of the books, and the clerks, under the several letters of
      the alphabet, he conceived was truly excellent.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Corporation of the Bank," said Dashall, "are prohibited from trading
      in any sort of goods or merchandize whatsoever; but are to confine the use
      of their capital to discounting Bills of Exchange, and to the buying and
      selling of gold and silver bullion; with a permission however to sell such
      goods as are mortgaged or pawned to them and not redeemed within three
      months after the expiration of the time for their redemption. Their
      profits arise from their traffic in bullion; the discounting of Bills of
      Exchange for Bankers, Merchants, Factors, and Speculators; and the
      remuneration they receive from Government, for managing the public funds,
      and for receiving the subscriptions on loans and lotteries. But we may
      ramble about in these places for a month, and still have novelty in store;
      and there is a little world underneath the greater part of this extensive
      building devoted to printing-offices, ware-rooms, &amp;c."
    </p>
    <p>
      They had now reached the door which leads into Bartholomew Lane, and, upon
      descending the steps, and turning to the left, Bob's eyes soon discovered
      the Auction Mart, "What have we here?" inquired he.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," replied his Cousin, "is a building which may deservedly be rank'd
      as one of the ornaments of the City; and its arrangements and economy, as
      well as the beauty of its interior, are well deserving the notice of every
      stranger. This fine establishment, which serves as a focus for the sale of
      estates and other property by public auction, is both useful and
      ornamental; it was built about the time when the spirit of combination was
      so strong in London. You must know, some years back, every kind of
      business and trade appeared likely to be carried on by Joint Stock
      Companies, and the profits divided upon small shares. Many Fire-offices
      have to date their origin from this source&mdash;the Hope, the Eagle, the
      Atlas, and others. The Golden Lane Brewery was opened upon this principle;
      some Water Companies were established; till neighbourhood <span
      class="pagenum">[319]</span> and partnership almost became synonimous;
      and, I believe, among many other institutions of that kind, the Building
      before us is one. It contains many handsome rooms and commodious offices;
      but, as for offices, every street and every alley abounds with them, and,
      now-a-days, if you want to hire a Cook or a Scullion, you have nothing to
      do but to send a letter to a Register-office, and you are suited in a
      twinkling. It was an excellent idea, and I remember the old Buck who used
      to call himself the founder of establishments of that nature, or rather
      the first introducer of them to the notice of Englishmen, poor old
      Courtois."
    </p>
    <p>
      John Courtois is said to have been a native of Picardy, where he was born
      about the year 1737 or 1738. He repaired to this country while yet young,
      in the character of <i>valet de chambre</i> to a gentleman who had picked
      him up in his travels; and, as he came from one of the poorest of the
      French provinces, he "took root," and throve wonderfully on his
      transplantation to a richer soil.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the death of his master, he removed to the neighbourhood of the Strand;
      and St. Martin's Street,. Leicester Square, became the scene of his
      industry and success. At a time when wigs were worn by boys, and a
      Frenchman was supposed the only person capable of making one fit "for the
      grande monarque," he commenced business as a perruquier, and soon acquired
      both wealth and celebrity. To this he joined another employment, which
      proved equally lucrative and appropriate, as it subjected both masters and
      servants to his influence. This was the keeping of a register-office, one
      of the first known in the Metropolis, whence he drew incalculable
      advantages. He is also said to have been a dealer in hair, which he
      imported largely from the continent. And yet,, after all, it is difficult
      to conceive how he could have realized a fortune exceeding 200,000L.! But
      what may not be achieved by a man who despised no gains, however small,
      and in his own expressive language, considered farthings as "the seeds of
      guineas!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The following appears to be a true description of this very extraordinary
      man, whom we ourselves have seen more than once:&mdash;"Old Courtois was
      well known for more than half a century in the purlieus of St. Martin's
      and the Haymarket. His appearance was meagre and squalid, and his clothes,
      such as they were, were <span class="pagenum">[320]</span> pertinaciously
      got up in exactly the same cut and fashion, and the colour always either
      fawn or marone. For the last thirty years, the venerable chapeau was
      uniformly of the same cock. The principal feat, however, in which this
      fervent votary of Plutus appeared before the public, was his nearly fatal
      affair with Mary Benson, otherwise Mrs. Maria Theresa Phepoe. In April
      1795, this ill-fated-woman projected a rather bungling scheme, in order to
      frighten her old acquaintance and visitor, Courtois, out of a considerable
      sum of money. One evening, when she was certain of his calling, she had
      her apartment prepared for his reception in a species of funereal style&mdash;a
      bier, a black velvet pall, black wax candles lighted, &amp;c. No sooner
      had the friend entered the room, than the lady, assisted by her maid,
      pounced on him, forced him into an arm chair, in which he was forcibly
      held down by the woman, while the hostess, brandishing a case-knife or
      razor, swore with some violent imprecations, that instant should be his
      last, if he did not give her an order on his "banker for a large sum of
      money. The venerable visitor, alarmed at the gloomy preparations and dire
      threats of the desperate female, asked for pen, ink, and paper; which
      being immediately produced, he wrote a check on his banker for two
      thousand pounds. He immediately retired with precipitation, happy to
      escape without personal injury. The next morning, before its opening, he
      attended at the Banker's, with some Police-officers; and on Mrs. Phepoe's
      making her appearance with the check, she was arrested, and subsequently
      tried at the Old Bailey, on a capital charge, grounded on the above
      proceedings. However, through the able defence made by her counsel (the
      late Mr. Fielding) who took a legal objection to the case as proved, and
      contended that she never had or obtained any property of Mr. Courtois, on
      the principle that possession constituted the first badge of ownership,
      she was only sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Some years since, the late Lord Gage met Courtois, at the court-room of
      the East India House, on an election business. "Ah, Courtois!" said his
      Lordship, "what brings you here?"&mdash;'To give my votes, my Lord,' was
      the answer.&mdash;"What! are you a proprietor?&mdash;'Most certainly.'&mdash;"And
      of more votes than one?"&mdash;'Yes, my <span class="pagenum">[321]</span>
      Lord, I have four!'&mdash;"Aye, indeed! why then, before you take the
      book, pray be kind enough to pin up my curls!" With which modest request
      the proprietor of four votes, equal to ten thousand pounds, immediately
      complied!
    </p>
    <p>
      "M. Courtois married a few years since, and has left several children. On
      reflecting that his widow's thirds would amount to an immense sum, with
      his usual prudence he made a handsome settlement on her during his
      lifetime. As his sons were not of very economical habits, he has
      bequeathed them small annuities only; and vested the bulk of his fortune
      in trustees on behalf of his daughters, who are infants.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Until his death, he invariably adhered to the costume of the age in which
      he was born. A three-cocked hat, and a plum-coloured coat, both rather the
      worse for wear, in which we have seen him frequently, invariably
      designated his person and habits; while a penurious economy, that bid
      defiance to all vulgar imitation, accompanied him to his grave. His death
      occurred in 1819, in the 80th or 81st year of his age."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Such characters," observed Tallyho, "notwithstanding their eccentricity,
      afford useful lessons to those who, in this giddy and dissipated age,
      devote a part of their time to thinking."
    </p>
    <p>
      "No doubt of it," replied Dashall; "they furnish examples of what may be
      done by perseverance and determination, and almost seem to verify the
      assertion, that every one may become rich if he pleases. But come, we must
      move towards Tom's Coffee House, in our way to which we will pass through
      the Royal Exchange, which lies directly before us. It was originally a
      brick building, erected by Sir Thomas Gresham in the year 1567, but being
      destroyed by the fire of London in 1666, the present building of Portland
      stone was raised in its place, the first stone of which was laid by
      Charles II. in 1667; in consequence of which his statue has been placed in
      the centre of its quadrangle, around which the Merchants assemble daily to
      transact their commercial business.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The merry Monarch was fond of the Citizens, and frequently
     honoured the Lord Mayor's table with his presence. It is
     said of him, that, on retiring to his carriage one day after
     dining with the civic Sovereign, he was followed by the
     latter, who, with a freedom inspired by the roseate Deity,
     laid hold of His Majesty by the arm, and insisted that he
     should not go until he had drunk t'other bottle. The Monarch
     turned round, and good-humouredly repeating a line from an
     old song&mdash;"The man that is drunk is as great as a king,"
     went back to the company, and doubtless complied with the
     Lord Mayor's request.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[322]</span> "It has two principal fronts, one in
      Cornhill, and the other, which you now see, is at the end of Threadneedle
      Street; each of which has a piazza, affording a convenient shelter from
      the sun and rain. It is open as a thoroughfare from eight in the morning
      till six in the evening; but the hours in which business is chiefly
      transacted, are from two to five. Its extent is 203 feet by 171."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had passed the gate, and Bob found himself in a handsome
      area with a fine piazza carried entirely round, and furnished with seats
      along the four walks, for Merchants of different nations, who meet, each
      at their different stations, and was immediately attracted by the
      appearance of the numerous specimens of art with which it was adorned.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you observe," said his Cousin, "within these piazzas are twenty-eight
      niches; all vacant but that in which is placed a statue of Sir Thomas
      Gresham, in the north-west angle; and that in the south-west, which
      presents a statue of Sir John Barnard, Magistrate of the City, and one of
      its Representatives in Parliament. Those smaller statues in the niches of
      the wall of the Quadrangle, in the upper story, are the Kings and Queens
      of England, beginning with Edward I. on the North side, and ending with
      his late Majesty on the East. As far as Charles I. they were executed by
      Gabriel Cibber. The various frames which are placed around under the
      piazza, contain the names, residences and occupations of Tradesmen,
      Mechanics and others. The grand front in Cornhill has been under repair
      lately, and in its appearance, no doubt, is greatly improved. The steeple
      which is just raised, is a handsome dome, surmounted by the original
      grasshopper, rendered somewhat celebrated by a prophecy, that certain
      alterations would take place in men, manners, and times, when the
      grasshopper on the top of the Exchange should meet the dragon at the top
      of Bow Church; and strange and extraordinary as it may appear, this very
      circumstance is said to have taken place, as they have both been seen in
      the warehouse of some manufacturer, to whom <span class="pagenum">[323]</span>
      they were consigned for repair; in addition to which, if Crockery's{1}
      relation of the transmogrifications of England is to be believed, the
      prophecy is in a considerable degree a whimsical and laughable Burletta,
      in one act, has recently been produced at the Royal Coburg Theatre, in
      which Mr. Sloman sings, with admirable comicality, the following Song,
      alluded to by the Hon. Tom Dashall, to the tune of O, The Roast Beef of
      Old England.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "From Hingy I came with my Master, O dear,
          But Lunnun is not like the same place, that's clear;
          It has nigh broke my heart since I have been here!
          O, the old times of Old England,
          O dear, the good English old times.

          The town is so changed, that I don't know a spot;
          The times are so hard, there's no vork to be got;
          And for porter they charges you tip-pence a pot!
          O, the old times, &amp;c.

          Then the sides of the houses are stuck full of bills
          About Blacking, Mock-Auctions, and vonderful Fills;
          But for von vot they cures, a hundred they kills!
          O, the old times, &amp;c.

          There's the names are all halter'd verewer I goes,
          And the people all laughs at the cut of my close;
          The men are turn'd vomen, the belles are turn'd beaux!
          O, the old times, &amp;c.

          Ven I vent out to Hingy, if any von died,
          A good vooden coffin they used to prowide,
          But hiron vons now keeps the poor vorms houtside!
          O, the old times, &amp;c.

          There's the Lancaster schools now all over the land,
          Vot teaches the children to scribble on sand&mdash;
          And a hugly Bonassus vot lives in the Strand!
          O, the new times, &amp;c.

          There's a new Life-preserver, vith vich you cant drown;
          And a new kind of Sov'reigns just com'd into town,
          Von is vorth a pound note, and the other a crown!
          O, the new times, &amp;c.

          The Play-bills have hard vords, vot I cannot speak;
          And the horgans plays nothing but Latin and Greek;
          And it's rain'd every day now for more than a veek!
          O, the new times, &amp;c.

          There's a man valks on vater and don't vet his feet;
          And a patent steam-kitchen, vot cooks all your meat;
          And Epp's ham and beef shop in every street!
          O, the new times, &amp;c.

          I valks up and down vith the tears in my hye;
          Vot they vonce call'd a vaggon is now call'd a fly;
          And the boys points their fingers, and calls I&mdash;a"Guy!
          O, the old times of Old England,
          O dear, the good English old times."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[324]</span>There is a stair-case in each front, and
      one on each side, which lead to a gallery above, running round the whole
      building, containing the offices of various establishments; but I believe,
      in the original plan, shops were intended to fill the building to the top.
      At present, the upper rooms are occupied by Lloyd's celebrated
      Subscription Coffee-house, for the use of Under-writers and Merchants&mdash;by
      the Royal Exchange Insurance Company, and various offices of individuals.
      There are also the Gresham Lecture&mdash;Rooms, where lectures are read
      pursuant to the will of the late Sir Thomas Gresham, who bequeathed to the
      City of London and the Mercers' Company, all the profits arising from
      these and other premises in Cornhill, in trust to pay salaries to four
      lecturers in divinity, astronomy, music, and geometry; and three readers
      in civil law, physic, and rhetoric, who read lectures daily in term time.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This we may consider the grand mart of the universe! where congregate
      those sons of Commerce the British Merchants, who, in dauntless extent of
      enterprise, hold such distinguished pre-eminence!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho viewed the scene before him with an inquisitive eye, and was
      evidently wrapped in surprise at the "busy hum of men," all actuated by
      one universal object, the acquisition of wealth. The spacious area
      exhibited a mass of mercantile speculators, numerously grouped, in
      conversation; under the piazzas appeared a moving multitude in like manner
      engaged, while the surrounding seats were in similar occupation; Dashall
      and Bob, of the many hundreds of individuals present, were perhaps the
      only two led to the place by curiosity alone.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho, who, on every occasion of "doubtful dilemma," looked to his
      cousin Dashall for extrication, expressed his surprise at the appearance
      of a squalid figure, whose lank form, patched habiliments, and unshorn
      beard, indicated <span class="pagenum">[325]</span>extreme penury; in
      familiar converse with a gentleman fashionably attired, and of demeanour
      to infer unquestionable respectability.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Interest," said Tallyho, "supersedes every other consideration, else
      these two opposites would not meet."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your observation is just," replied his cousin; "the tatterdemallion to
      whom you allude, is probably less impoverished than penurious; perhaps of
      miserly habits, and in other respects disqualified for polite society.
      What then, he is doubtless in ample possession of the essential requisite;
      and here a monied man only is a good man, and without money no man can be
      respectable."{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      Here the continued and deafening noise of a hand-bell, rung by one of the
      Exchange-keepers underlings, perched on the balcony over the southern
      gate, interrupted Mr. Dashall's remarks; it was the signal for locking up
      the gates, and inferring at the same time obedience to the summons with
      due promptitude and submission, on pain of being detained two hours "in
      duresse vile."
    </p>
    <p>
      Sufficient alacrity of egression not having been shown, the Keepers closed
      the two gates, and at the same time locked the east and western avenues;
      thus interdicting from egress above three hundred contumacious
      individuals, including the Hon. Tom Dashall and his Cousin.
    </p>
    <p>
      A considerable time having now elapsed without any prospect of
      enlargement, dissatisfaction gained ground apace, and shortly ripened into
      actual mutiny. The disaffected now proceeded to hold a council of war, and
      after a few moments deliberation, it was resolved unanimously to storm the
      avenues! Dashall and
    </p>
    <p>
      1 Some years ago, a gentleman of extensive property, residing in the
      country, was desirous of raising, by way of loan on the security of landed
      estates, the sum of 30,000L. His Solicitor in London, with whom he had
      corresponded on the subject, summoned him at last to town; a lender was
      found, who was to meet the Solicitor at a certain time and place
      appointed, in the neighbourhood of the Exchange. The borrower, on the day
      and near the hour fixed upon, was in the area of the Royal Exchange, when
      there crossed over a wretched looking being, the very personification of
      misery. The gentleman, unsolicited, gave the poor object a shilling. On
      going to the appointed rendezvous, how great was his astonishment to find
      in the person of the wealthy monied man the identical receiver of his
      bounty!&mdash;"Ha, ha," cried he, "you shall not fare the worse for your
      generosity!" and actually advanced the money on terms much easier than
      expected. This personage was the celebrated Daniel Dancer.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[326]</span> Tallyho declined taking any part in the
      enterprise; they took a right view of the affair; they were mere casual
      visitants, not likely ever again to suffer a similar restraint, while the
      others were in the daily practice of transacting business on the spot: to
      them therefore the frequent recurrence of the present disaster might
      happen&mdash;theirs then was the cause, as being most particularly
      interested.
    </p>
    <p>
      An attack was made by the prisoners upon the portals opening into Bank
      Buildings and Sweeting's Kents; but the former having been shattered
      sometime since on a similar occasion, and subsequently very strongly
      repaired, it was found impregnable, at least to any immediate exertion of
      force, and being neither furnished with a park of artillery, nor with the
      battering ram of the ancients, the little army faced to the right about,
      enfiladed the area, and took up a new position, in due order of assault,
      against the door of the avenue leading into Sweeting's Rents. The affair
      was decided, and without bloodshed; the bars soon bent before the vigour
      of the assailants; one of these was taken into custody by a Beadle, but
      rescued, and the attack recommenced with success; when the opposite door
      was also opened by the Shop-keeper living in that avenue, and the Exchange
      was finally cleared at four minutes past five o'clock, after above an
      hour's detention, including the time occupied in storming the avenues.
    </p>
    <p>
      The triumph of liberty was now complete; the intrepid phalanx disbanded
      itself; and our Heroes having made the farewell conge to their victorious
      compeers, proceeded into Cornhill, where, Dashall espying his curricle at
      the door of Tom's Coffee House, they, after refreshing themselves, took a
      cheerful country drive over London Bridge, Clapham Common, Wandsworth,
      &amp;c. from which they returned at six o'clock to dinner, determined to
      have a night's rest before they proceeded in search of further adventures.<span
      class="pagenum">[327]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link22HCH0005" id="link22HCH0005">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Happy the man, who void of cares and strife,
          In silken or in leathern purse retains
          A SPLENDID shilling! he nor hears with pain
          New oysters cried, nor sighs for cheerful ale;

          But I, whom griping penury surrounds,
          And hunger, sure attendant upon want,
          With scanty offal and small acid tiff,
          Wretched repast, my meagre corse sustain!
          Or solitary walk, or dose at home
          In garret vile!"
</pre>
    <p>
      TALKING over, at the breakfast-table, the occurrences of the preceding day&mdash;"On
      my conscience!" exclaimed Tallyho, "were the antediluvian age restored,
      and we daily perambulated the streets of this immense Metropolis during a
      hundred years to come, I firmly believe that every hour would bring a
      fresh accession of incident."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ad infinitum," answered Dashall; "where happiness is the goal in view,
      and fifteen hundred thousand competitors start for the prize, the
      manouvres of all in pursuit of the grand ultimatum must ever exhibit an
      interesting and boundless variety. London,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          ".   .   .   the needy villain's general home,
          The common sewer of Paris and of Rome!"
</pre>
    <p>
      where ingenious vice too frequently triumphs over talented worth&mdash;where
      folly riots in the glare of luxury, and merit pines in indigent obscurity.&mdash;Allons
      donc!&mdash;another ramble, and chance may probably illustrate my
      observation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Take notice," said the discriminating Dashall to his friend, as they
      reached the Mall in St. James's Park, "of that solitary knight of the
      woeful countenance; his thread-bare raiment and dejected aspect, denote
      disappointment and privation;&mdash;ten imperial sovereigns to a plebeian
      <span class="pagenum">[328]</span> shilling, he is either a retired
      veteran or a distressed poet."
    </p>
    <p>
      The object of curiosity, who had now seated himself, appeared to have
      attained the age of fifty, or more&mdash;a bat that had once been black&mdash;a
      scant-skirted blue coat, much the worse for wear&mdash;a striped waistcoat&mdash;his
      lank legs and thighs wrapt in a pair of something resembling trowsers, but
      "a world too wide for his shrunk shanks"&mdash;short gaiters&mdash;shoes
      in the last stage of consumption&mdash;whiskers of full dimensions&mdash;his
      head encumbered with an unadjusted redundancy-of grey hair: such were the
      habiliments and figure of this son of adversity!
    </p>
    <p>
      The two friends now seated themselves on the same bench with the stranger,
      who, absorbed in reflection, observed not their approach.
    </p>
    <p>
      The silence of the triumvirate was broken in upon by Tom, who, with his
      usual suavity of manners, politely addressed himself to the unknown, on
      the common topic of weather, <i>et cetera</i>, without eliciting in reply
      more than an assenting or dissenting monosyllable, "You have seen some
      service, Sir?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the army, I presume?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Under Government?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the navy, probably?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I beg your pardon," continued Dashall&mdash;"my motives originate not in
      idle inquisitiveness; if I can be of any service&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      The stranger turned towards him an eye of inquiry. "I ask not from
      impertinent curiosity," resumed Dashall, "neither would I wish
      indelicately to obtrude an offer of assistance, perhaps equally
      unnecessary as unacceptable; yet there are certain mutabilities of life
      wherein sympathy may be allowed to participate."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Sir," said the other, with an immediate grateful expansion of mind, and
      freedom of communication&mdash;"I am inexpressibly indebted for the honour
      of your solicitude, and feel no hesitation in acknowledging that I am a
      literary writer; but so seldom employed, and, when employed, so
      inadequately requited, that to me the necessaries of life are frequently
      inaccessible."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[329]</span> Here Tallyho interrupted the narrator
      by asking&mdash;whence it was that he had adopted a profession so irksome,
      precarious, and unproductive?
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
"Necessity," was the reply. "During a period of eight years, I performed
the duties as senior Clerk of an office under Government; four years
ago the establishment was broken up, without any provision made for its
subordinate dependents; and thus I became one of the twenty thousand
distressed beings in London, who rise from bed in the morning, unknowing
where to repose at night, and are indebted to chance for a lodging or a
dinner!"{1}     1 The following calculation, which is curious in all its
     parts, cannot fail to interest the reader:&mdash;

     The aggregate Population on the surface of the known
     habitable Globe is estimated at 1000,000,000 souls. If
     therefore we reckon with the Ancients, that a generation
     lasts 30 years, then in that space 1000,000,000 human beings
     will be born and die; consequently, 91,314 must be dropping
     into eternity every day, 3800 every hour, or about 63 every
     minute, and more than one every second. Of these
     1000,000,000 souls, 656,000,000 are supposed to be Pagans,
     160,000,000 Mahomedans, 9,000,000 Jews, only 175,000,000 are
     called Christians, and of these only 50,000,000 are
     Protestants.

     There are in London 502 places of Worship&mdash;one Cathedral,
     one Abbey, 114 Churches, 132 Chapels and Chapels of Ease,
     220 Meet-ings and Chapels for Dissenters, 43 Chapels for
     Foreigners, and 6 Synagogues for Jews. About 4050 public and
     private Schools, including Inns of Courts, Colleges, &amp;c.
     About 8 Societies for Morals; 10 Societies for Learning and
     Arts; 112 Asylums for Sick and Lame; 13 Dispensaries, and
     704 Friendly Societies. Charity distributed £800,000 per
     annum.

     There are about 2500 persons committed for trial in one
     year: The annual depredations amount to about £2,100,000.
     There are 19 Prisons, and 5204 Alehouses within the bills of
     Mortality. The amount of Coin counterfeited is £200,000 per
     annum. Forgeries on the Bank of England in the year
     £150,000. About 3000 Receivers of Stolen Goods. About 10,000
     Servants at all times out of place. Above 20,000 miserable
     individuals rise every morning without knowing how or by
     what means they are to be supported during the passing day,
     or where, in many instances, they are to lodge on the
     succeeding night.

     London consumes annually 112,000 bullocks; 800,000 sheep and
     lambs; 212,000 calves; 210,000 hogs; 60,000 sucking pigs;
     7,000,000 gallons of milk, the produce of 9000 cows; 10,000
     acres of ground cultivated for vegetables; 4000 acres for
     fruit; 75,000 quarters of wheat; 700,000 chaldrons of coals;
     1,200,500 barrels of ale and porter; 12,146,782 gallons of
     spirituous liquors and compounds; 35,500 tons of wine;
     17,000,000 pounds of butter, 22,100,000 pounds of cheese;
     14,500 boat loads of cod.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[330]</span> "May I ask," said Mr. Dashall, "from
      what species of literary composition you chiefly derive your subsistence?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "From puffing&mdash;writing rhyming advertisements for certain speculative
      and successful candidates for public favour, in various avocations; for
      instance, eulogizing the resplendent brilliancy of Jet or Japan Blacking&mdash;the
      wonderful effects of Tyrian-Dye and Macassar Oil in producing a luxuriant
      growth and changing the colour of the hair, transforming the thinly
      scattered and hoary fragments of age to the redundant and auburn tresses
      of youth&mdash;shewing forth that the "Riding Master to his late Majesty
      upwards of thirty years, and Professor of the Royal Menage of Hanover,
      sets competition at defiance, and that all who dare presume to rival the
      late Professor of the Royal Menage of Hanover, are vile unskilful
      pretenders, ci-devant stable-boys, and totally undeserving the notice of
      an enlightened and discerning public! In fact, Sir, I am reduced to this
      occasional humiliating employment, derogatory certainly to the dignity of
      literature, as averting the approach of famine. I write, for various
      adventurers, poetical panegyric, and illustrate each subject by
      incontrovertible facts, with appropriate incident and interesting
      anecdote."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And these facts," observed Bob Tallyho, "respectably authenticated?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "By no means," answered the Poet; "nor is it necessary, nobody takes the
      trouble of inquiry, and all is left to the discretion of the writer and
      the fertility of his invention."
    </p>
    <p>
      "On the same theme, does not there exist," asked Dashall, "a difficulty in
      giving it the appearance of variety?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly; and that difficulty would seem quite insurmountable when I
      assure you, that I have written for a certain Blacking Manufacturer above
      two hundred different productions on the subject of his unparalleled Jet,
      each containing fresh incident, and very probably fresh incident must yet
      be found for two hundred productions more! But the misfortune is, that
      every thing is left to my invention, and the remuneration is of a very
      trifling nature for such mental labour: besides, it has frequently
      happened that the toil has proved unavailing&mdash;the production is
      rejected&mdash;the anticipated half-crown remains in the accumulating
      coffers of the Blacking-manufacturer, and the Author returns, pennyless
      and despondingly, to his attic, where, if fortune at last befriends him,
      he probably may breakfast dine and sup, tria juncta in uno, at a late hour
      in the evening!" <span class="pagenum">[331]</span> "And," exclaimed the
      feeling Dashall, "this is real Life in London!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "With me actually so," answered the Poet.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Blacking-maker's Laureat now offered to the perusal of his
      sympathising friends the following specimen of his ability in this mode of
      composition:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          PUG IN ARMOUR;
          OR,
          THE GARRISON ALARMED.

          "Whoe'er on the rock of Gibraltar has been,
          A frequent assemblage of monkeys has seen
          Assailing each stranger with volleys of stones,
          As if pre-determin'd to fracture his bones!

          A Monkey one day took his turn as a scout,
          And gazing his secret position about,
          A boot caught his eye, near the spot that was plac'd,
          By w * * * *n's jet; Blacking transcendently grac'd;
          And, viewing his shade in its brilliant reflection,
          He cautiously ventured on closer inspection.

          The gloss on its surface return'd grin for grin,
          Thence seeking his new-found acquaintance within,
          He pok'd in the boot his inquisitive snout,
          Head and shoulders so far, that he could not get out;
          And thus he seem'd cas'd&mdash;from his head to his tail,
          In suit of high-burnish'd impregnable mail!

          Erect on two legs then, with retrograde motion,
          It stalk'd; on the Sentry impressing a notion
          That this hostile figure, of non-descript form,
          The fortress might take by manoeuvre or storm!

          Now fixing his piece, in wild terror he bawls&mdash;
          "A legion of devils are scaling the walls!"
          The guards sallied forth 'mid portentous alarms,
          Signal-guns were discharged, and the drums beat to arms;
          And Governor then, and whole garrison, ran
          To meet the dread foe in this minikin man!

          "A man&mdash;'tis a monkey!" Mirth loudly exclaim'd,
          And peace o'er the garrison then was proclaim'd;
          And Pug was released, the strange incident backing
          The merits, so various, of W* * * *n's Jet Blacking."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[332]</span> This trifle, well enough for the
      purpose, was honoured with approbation.
    </p>
    <p>
      The two friends, unwilling to offend the delicacy of the Poet by a
      premature pecuniary compliment at this early stage of acquaintance, took
      his address and departed, professing an intention of calling upon him at
      his lodgings in the evening.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I would not, were I a bricklayer's labourer," exclaimed Bob, "exchange
      situations with this unfortunate literary hack&mdash;this poor devil of
      mental toil and precarious result, who depends for scanty subsistence on
      the caprice of his more fortunate inferiors, whose minds, unexpanded by
      liberal feeling, and absorbed in the love of self, and the sordid
      consideration of interest, are callous to the impression of benevolence!&mdash;But
      let us hope that few such cases of genius in adversity occur, even in this
      widely extended and varied scene of human vicissitude."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That hope," replied his Cousin, "is founded on
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The baseless fabric of a vision!"
</pre>
    <p>
      There are, at this moment, thousands in London of literary merit, of whom
      we may truly say,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Chill penury repress their noble rage,
          And freeze the genial current of the soul!"
</pre>
    <p>
      Men unsustained by the hand of friendship, who pine in unheeded obscurity,
      suffering the daily privations of life's indispensable requisites, or
      obtaining a scanty pittance at the will of opulent ignorance, and under
      the humiliating contumely, as we have just been informed, even of Blacking
      Manufacturers!
    </p>
    <p>
      "But here is a man, who, during a period of eight years, held a public
      situation, the duties of which he performed satisfactorily to the last;
      and yet, on the abolition of the establishment, while the Principal
      retires in the full enjoyment of his ample salary, this senior Clerk and
      his fellows in calamity are cast adrift upon the world, to live or starve,
      and in the dearth of employment suitable to their habits and education,
      the unfortunate outcasts are left to perish, perhaps by the hand of famine
      in the streets, or that of despondency in a garret; or, what is worse than
      either, consigned to linger out their remaining wretched <span
      class="pagenum">[333]</span> days under the "cold reluctant charity" of a
      parish workhouse.{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      "When the principal of a Public-office has battened for many years on his
      liberal salary, and the sole duties required of him have been those of
      occasionally signing a few official papers, why not discontinue his salary
      on the abolition of the establishment, and partition it out in pensions to
      those disbanded Clerks by whose indefatigable exertions the business of
      the public has been satisfactorily conducted? These allowances, however
      inadequate to the purpose of substantiating all the comforts, might yet
      realise the necessaries of life, and, at least, would avert the dread of
      absolute destitution."
    </p>
    <p>
      A pause ensued&mdash;Dashall continued in silent rumination&mdash;a few
      moments brought our Heroes to the Horse Guards; and as the acquirement
      "devoutly to be wished" was a general knowledge of metropolitan manners,
      they proceeded to the observance of Real Life in a Suttling House.
    </p>
    <p>
      Child's Suttling House at the Horse Guards is the almost exclusive resort
      of military men, who, availing themselves of the intervals between duty,
      drop in to enjoy a pipe and pint.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "To fight their battles o'er again,
          Thrice to conquer all their foes,
          And thrice to slay the slain."
</pre>
    <p>
      In the entrance on the left is a small apartment, bearing the dignified
      inscription, in legible characters on the door, of "The Non-Commissioned
      Officers' Room." In front of the bar is a larger space, boxed off, and
      appropriated to the use of the more humble heroical aspirants, the private
      men; and passing through the bar, looking into Whitehall, is the <i>Sanctum
      Sanctorum</i>, for the reception of the more exalted rank, the
      golden-laced, three-striped, subordinate commandants, Serjeant-Majors and
      Serjeants, with the colour-clothed regimental appendants of Paymasters and
      Adjutants' Clerks, <i>et cetera</i>. Into this latter apartment our
      accomplished friends were ushered with becoming
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 "Swells then thy feeling heart, and streams thine eye
        O'er the deserted being, poor and old,

       Whom cold reluctant parish-charity
       Consigns to mingle with his kindred mold."
       &mdash;Charlotte Smith.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[334]</span> respect to their superior appearance,
      at the moment when a warm debate was carrying on as to the respective
      merits of the deceased Napoleon and the hero of Waterloo.
    </p>
    <p>
      The advocate of the former seemed unconnected with the army: the adherent
      to the latter appeared in the gaudy array of a Colour-Serjeant of the Foot
      Guards, and was decorated with a Waterloo medal, conspicuously suspended
      by a blue ribbon to the upper button of his jacket; and of this honourable
      badge the possessor seemed not less vain than if he had been adorned with
      the insignia of the most noble order of the Garter.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I contend, and I defy the universe to prove the contrary," exclaimed the
      pertinacious Serjeant in a tone of authoritative assertion, "that the Duke
      of Wellington is a greater man than ever did, does, or hereafter may
      exist!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "By no means," answered the Civilian. "I admit, so far as a thorough
      knowledge of military tactics, and a brilliant career of victory
      constitutes greatness, his grace of Wellington to be a great hero, but
      certainly not the greatest 'inan that ever did, does, or hereafter may
      exist!" "Is there a greater man? Did there ever exist a greater?&mdash;when
      and where?" the Serjeant impatiently demanded.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Buonaparte was a greater," answered the opposing disputant; "because to
      military renown unparalleled in the annals of ancient or modern history,
      he added the most consummate knowledge of government; and although his
      actions might frequently partake of arbitrary sway, (and who is the human
      being exempted from human frailty) yet he certainly created and sustained,
      in her most elevated zenith, the splendour of France, till crushed by the
      union of nations in arms; and if power is the criterion of greatness, who
      was, is, or ever can be greater than the man, who, emerging from
      obscurity, raised himself solely by his mental energies to the highest
      elevation of human glory; and who, this Island excepted, commanded the
      destinies of all Europe! The most determined of his enemies will not deny,
      calmly and duly appreciating his merits, that he possessed unrivalled
      talent; and this fact the hero, whose cause you so vehemently espouse,
      would, I have no doubt, be the foremost in acknowledging."
    </p>
    <p>
      In deficiency of argument, the Serjeant resorted to invective; the
      vociferous disputation reached the next <span class="pagenum">[335]</span>
      room, and was taken up by the rank and file in a manner not less
      tumultuous; when an honest native of the "Emerald Isle" good-humouredly
      terminated the war of words, calling for half a quartern of gin, with
      which to qualify a pint of Whitbread's entire.
    </p>
    <p>
      "To the immortal memory of St. Patrick, and long life to him!" exclaimed
      Patrick O'Shaughnessy. "If there did not exist but them two selves, bad
      luck to the spalpeen who will say that the Duke and my Lord Londondery
      would not be the greatest men in the universe!"
    </p>
    <p>
      This sally led to a cessation of hostilities, which might have been
      followed by a definitive treaty of peace, but the dæmon of discord again
      made its appearance in the tangible shape of a diminutive personage, who,
      hitherto silently occupying a snug out-of-the-way corner by the fireplace,
      had escaped observation.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall and his Cousin emerging from the Sanctum Sanctorum, where their
      presence seemed to have operated as a check on the freedom of discussion,
      had just seated themselves in the room allotted to the private soldiers,
      when, in a broad northern accent, the aforesaid taciturn gentleman,
      selecting the two strangers, who, of all the company, seemed alone worthy
      the honour of his notice, thus addressed them:
    </p>
    <p>
      "I crave your pardon, Sirs&mdash;but I guess frae your manner that ye are
      no unacquainted wi' the movements o' high life&mdash;do you ken how lang
      the King means to prolong his abode amang our neebors owre the water, his
      hair-brain'd Irish subjects, whase notions o' loyalty hae excited sae mony
      preposterously antic exhibitions by that volatile race O' people?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am not in possession," answered Dashall, "of any information on the
      subject."
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the manes of the Priest," exclaimed Mr. O'Shaughnessy, "but the King
      (God bless him) has visited the land of green Erin, accompanied by the
      spirit of harmony, and praties without the sauce of butter-milk be his
      portion, who does not give them both a hearty welcome!&mdash;Arrah, what
      mane you by a preposterous exhibition? By hecky, the warm hearts of the
      sons and daughters of St. Patrick have exhibited an unsophisticated
      feeling of loyalty, very opposite indeed to the chilling indifference, not
      to say worse of it, of those his subjects at home; and as Sir William, the
      big Baronet of the City, said in the House <span class="pagenum">[336]</span>
      that gives laws to the land, Why should not his Majesty be cheered up a
      little?"
    </p>
    <p>
      This effusion of loyalty was well received, and Dashall and his Cousin
      cordially united in the general expression of approbation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This is a' vera weel," said the Northern; "but an overstrained civility
      wears ay the semblance o' suspicion, and fulsome adulation canna be vera
      acceptable to the mind o' delicate feeling: for instance, there is my ain
      country, and a mair ancient or a mair loyal to its legitimate Sovereign
      there disna exist on the face o' the whole earth; wad the King condescend
      to honor wi' his presence the palace o' Holyrod House, he wad experience
      as ardent a manifestation o' fidelity to his person and government in Auld
      Reekie as that shown him in Dublin, though aiblins no quite sae
      tumultuous; forbye, it wadna hae been amiss to hae gaen the preference to
      a nation whare his ancestors held sway during sae mony centuries, and
      whare, in the castle of Edinburgh, is still preserved the sacred regalia,
      with which it migh no hae been unapropos to hae graced his royal head and
      hand amidst the gratifying pageantry o' a Scotch coronation. Sure I am
      that North Britain has never been honored publicly wi' a royal visit.&mdash;Whether
      ony branch o' the present reigning family hae been there incognita they
      best ken themselves."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You seem to have forgot," observed Tallyho, "the visit of the Duke of
      Cumberland to Scotland in the year 1745."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Begging your pardon for setting you right in that particular," answered
      the cynic, with a most significant expression of countenance, "that, Sir,
      was not a visit, but a visitation!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Appropriate enough," whispered Dashall to Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Augh, boderation to nice distinctions!" exclaimed O'Shaughnessy; "here,
      Mister Suttler be after tipping over anoder half quartern of the cratur,
      wid which to drink success to the royal visitant."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And that the company may participate in the gratifying expression of
      attachment to their Sovereign, Landlord," said Dashall, "let the glass go
      round."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Testifying our regard for the Sovereign," resumed the Northern, "it canna
      be understood that we include a' the underlings o' Government. We ought,
      as in duty bound, to venerate and obey the maister o' the house; bat it is
      <span class="pagenum">[337]</span> by no means necessary that we should
      pay a similar respect to his ox and his ass, his man-servant and his
      maid-servant. May be, had he been at hame on a late occasion o' melancholy
      solemnity, blood wadna hae been spilt, and mickle dool and sorrow wad hae
      been avoided."
    </p>
    <p>
      "We perfectly understand your allusion," said one from the group of
      Life-guardsmen: "Of us now present there were none implicated in the
      unfortunate occurrences either of that day or a subsequent one: yet we
      must not silently hear our comrades traduced&mdash;perhaps then it may be
      as well to drop the subject."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I canna think o' relinquishing a topic 0' discourse," answered the
      Northern, "replete wi' mickle interest, merely at your suggestion; it may
      be ye did your duty in obeying the commands, on that lamentable occasion,
      O' your superior officers, and it is to be hoped that the duty O' the
      country, towards those with whom originated the mischief, will not be
      forgotten; there is already on record against the honour 0' your corps a
      vera serious verdick."
    </p>
    <p>
      Here the Life-guardsmen spontaneously started up; but the immediate
      interposition of Dashall averted me impending storm; while Tallyho,
      imitating the generosity of his Cousin, ordered the circulation once more
      of the bottle, to Unanimity betwixt the military and the people. Harmony
      thus restored, the two friends took their leave, amidst the grateful
      acknowledgments of the company, O'Shaughnessy swearing on their departure,
      that doubtless the two strangers were begot in Ireland, although they
      might have come over to England to be born! While the pertinacious
      Northern observed, that appearances were aften deceitful, although, to be
      sure, the twa friends had vera mickle the manners 0' perfectly well-bred
      gentlemen, and seem'd, forbye, to hae a proper sense o' national honor.
    </p>
    <p>
      Proceeding into Whitehall, Tallyho much admired the statue-like figures of
      the mounted sentries in the recesses by the gate of the Horse-guards; the
      relief had just approached; the precision of retirement of the one party,
      and advance to its post of the other: the interesting appearance of the
      appropriately caparisoned and steady demeanour of the horses, and their
      instinctive knowledge of military duty, excited deservedly prolonged
      attention,
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[338]</span> "One would think," said Tallyho, "that
      these noble animals are really actuated by reasoning faculties."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hereafter," replied Dashall, "you will still more incline to this
      opinion, when we have an opportunity of being present on a cavalry
      field-day in Hyde Park, where manoeuvre will appear to have attained its
      acme of perfection, as much from the wonderful docility of the horse as
      the discipline of the rider."{l}
    </p>
    <p>
      "But hold, who have we here?&mdash;Our friend Sparkle, gazing about him
      with an eye of inquisitive incertitude, as if in search of lost property."
    </p>
    <p>
      As his two friends approached, he seemed bewildered in the labyrinth of
      conjecture.&mdash;"I have lost my horse!" he exclaimed, in answer to the
      inquiry of Dashall. "Having occasion to stop half an hour at Drummond's, I
      gave the animal in charge of an Israelite urchin, and now neither are to
      be seen."
    </p>
    <p>
      Casting a look down the street, they at last discerned the Jew lad,
      quickly, yet carefully leading the horse along, with two boys mounted on
      its back. Thoroughly instructed in the maxim&mdash;Get money, honestly if
      you can, but get it by any means! young Moses had made the most of the
      present opportunity, by letting out the horse, at a penny a ride, from
      Charing Cross to the Horse Guards; this, by his own confession, was the
      fifteenth trip! Sparkle, highly exasperated, was about to apply the
      discipline of the whip to the shoulders of the thrifty speculator, when
      Tallyho, interceding in his behalf, he was released, with a suitable
      admonition.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Not long since some cavalry horses, deemed "unfit for
     further service," were sold at Tattersal's. Of one of these
     a Miller happened to be the purchaser. Subservient now to
     the ignoble purposes of burthen, the horse one day was
     led,'with a sack of flour on his back, to the next market-
     town; there while the Miller entered a house for a few
     moments, and the animal quietly waited at the door, a
     squadron of dragoons drew up in an adjacent street, forming
     by sound of trumpet; the instant that the Miller's horse
     heard the well-known signal, it started off with as much
     celerity as its burthen admitted, and, to the great
     amusement of the troop, and astonishment of the spectators,
     took its station in the ranks, dressing in line, with the
     accustomed precision of an experienced veteran in the
     service; and it was with considerable difficulty that the
     Miller, who had now hastened to the spot, could induce the
     animal to relinquish its military ardour, to which it still
     appeared to cling with renewed and fond pertinacity!
</pre>
    <p>
      Sparkle, mounting his recovered charger, left his <span class="pagenum">[339]</span>
      pedestrian friends for the present, to continue their excursion; who,
      proceeding up St. Martin's Lane, and admiring that noble edifice, the
      Church, reached, without other remarkable occurrence, the quietude of
      Leicester Square.
    </p>
    <p>
      Close by is Barker's Panorama, an object of attraction too prominent to be
      passed without inspection. They now entered, and Tallyho stood mute with
      delight at the astonishing effect of the perspective; while, as if by the
      powers of enchantment, he seemed to have been transported into other
      regions. Amidst scenes of rich sublimity, in the centre of a vast
      amphitheatre, bounded only by the distant horizon, far remote from the
      noisy bustle of the Metropolis, he gave full scope to his imagination; and
      after an hour of pleasing reverie, left the fascinating delusion with
      evident reluctance.
    </p>
    <p>
      Emerging once more into the gay world, the two associates, in search of
      Real Life in London, proceeded through Covent Garden Market, where fruit,
      flowers, and exotics in profusion, invite alike the eye and the appetite.
    </p>
    <p>
      Onwards they reached the classic ground of Drury, "Where Catherine Street
      descends into the Strand."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I never," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "pass this spot without a feeling of
      veneration&mdash;the scenes of "olden times" rise on my view, and the
      shades of Garrick, and our late loss, and not less illustrious Sheridan,
      flit before me! This was then, as now, the seat of Cyprian indulgence&mdash;the
      magnet of sensual attraction, where feminine youth and beauty in their
      most fascinating and voluptuous forms were let out by the unprincipled
      procuress, and the shrines of Venus and Apollo invited the votaries of
      each to nocturnal sacrifice.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The avenue to the boxes of Drury Lane Theatre was, in the
     time of Garrick, through Vinegar Yard. In this passage an
     old spider, better known, perhaps, by the name of a
     Procuress, had spread her web, alias, opened a Bagnio, and
     obtained a plentiful living by preying on those who
     unfortunately or imprudently fell into her clutches. Those
     who are not unacquainted with haddocks, will understand the
     loose fish alluded to, who beset her doors, and accosted
     with smiles or insults every one that passed. It happened
     that a noble Lord, in his way to the theatre, with his two
     daughters under his arm, was most grossly attacked by this
     band of "flaming ministers." He immediately went behind the
     scenes, and insisted on seeing Mr. Garrick, to whom he
     represented his case, and so roused the vengeance of the
     little Manager, that he instantly, full of wrath, betook
     himself to this unholy Sybil:&mdash;

     "Twin-child of Cacus; Vulcan was their sire, Full offspring
     both of healthless fume and fire!"
</pre>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     Finding her at the mouth of her cavern, he quickly gave veut
     to his rage in the most buskin'd strain, and concluded by
     swearing that he would have her ousted. To this assault she
     was not backward in reply, but soon convinced him that she
     was much more powerful in abusive language than our Roscius,
     though he had recourse in his speech to Milton's "hell-born
     bitch," and other phrases of similar celebrity, whilst she
     entirely depended on her own natural resources. Those to
     whom this oratory is not new, have no need of our reporting
     any of it; and those to whom it is a perfect mystery, boast
     a "state the more gracious," and are the more happy in their
     ignorance. None of this rhapsody, however, although teeming
     with blasphemy and abuse, had any effect on Garrick, and he
     would have remained unmoved had she not terminated in the
     following manner, which so excited the laughter of the
     collected mob, and disconcerted "the soul of Richard,"
     that, without another word to say, he hastily took shelter
     in the theatre. Putting her arms akimbo, and letting down
     each side of her mouth with wonderful expression of
     contempt, she exclaimed&mdash;"You whipper snapper! you oust me!
     You be d&mdash;&mdash;-d!    My house is as good as your's&mdash;aye, and
     better too.    I can come into your's whenever I like, and
     see the best that you can do for a shilling; but d&mdash;&mdash;-me if
     you, or any body else, shall come into mine for less than a
     fifteen-penny negus."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[340]</span> "This street and neighbourhood was wont
      to exhibit, nightly, a melancholy proof of early infamy. Here might be
      seen a prolonged succession of juvenile voluptuaries, females, many of
      them under fourteen years of age, offering themselves to indiscriminate
      prostitution, in a state verging on absolute nudity, alluring the
      passengers, by every seductive wile, to the haunts of depravity, from
      which retreat was seldom effected without pecuniary exaction, and
      frequently accompanied by personal violence. The nuisance has been partly
      abated, but entirely to remove it would be a task of more difficult
      accomplishment than that of cleansing the Augean stable, and would baffle
      all the labours of Hercules!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "This fact," observed Tallyho, "throws an indelible stain on metropolitan
      police."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not so," answered his companion, "scarce a day passes without groups of
      these unfortunates being held before a magistrate, and humanely disposed
      of in various ways, with the view of preventing a recurrence to vicious
      habits,&mdash;but in vain;&mdash;the stain is more attributed to the
      depraved nature of man, who first seduces, and then casts off <span
      class="pagenum">[341]</span> to infamy and indigence the unhappy victim of
      credulity. Many of these wretched girls would, in all probability, gladly
      have abstained from the career of vice, if, on their first fall, they had
      experienced the consoling protection of parents or friends;&mdash;but,
      shut out from home,&mdash;exiled from humanity,&mdash;divested of
      character, and without resources,&mdash;no choice is left, other than
      mendicity or prostitution!"{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      The sombre reflections occasioned by these remarks gradually gave way to
      those of a more enlivening hue, as the two friends proceeded along the
      Strand. The various display, at the tradesmen's shop windows, of useful
      and ornamental articles,&mdash;the continued bustle of the street,&mdash;the
      throng of passengers of every description, hurrying on in the activity of
      business, or more leisurely lounging their way under the impulse of
      curiosity,&mdash;the endless succession of new faces, and frequent
      occurrence of interesting incident;&mdash;these united in forming an
      inexhaustible fund of amusement and admiration.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 "Hatton Garden.&mdash;On Saturday, no less than fifteen
     unfortunate girls, all elegantly attired, were placed at the
     bar, charged by Cadby, the street-keeper on the Foundling
     Estate, with loitering about the neighbourhood for their
     nocturnal purposes. The constable stated, that repeated
     complaints had been made to him by many of the inhabitants,
     of the disgraceful practice of vast numbers of frail ones,
     who resort every night to Brunswick Square. He had been
     therefore instructed to endeavour to suppress the nuisance.
     About twelve o'clock on Friday night, while perambulating
     the district, he found the fifteen prisoners at the bar in
     Brunswick Square, at their usual pursuits, and all of them
     were in the act of picking up gentlemen. He procured
     assistance, and they were taken into custody, and conveyed
     to the watch-house.

     None of the prisoners could deny the charge, but expressed
     great contrition at being under the painful necessity of
     procuring their subsistence in so disgraceful a manner. They
     were examined individually, by the magistrates, as to the
     origin that brought them to disgrace. Some, from their
     admission, were farmers' daughters, and had been decoyed
     from their relatives, and brought to London, and
     subsequently deserted by their seducers. Some were nursery-
     maids&mdash;others, girls seduced from boarding schools. Their
     tales were truly distressing&mdash;some had only been six months
     in such infamy, others twelve months, and some two years and
     upwards.

     The worthy magistrate, with much feeling, admonished them on
     the evil course they were following, and pointed out the
     means still left for them to return to the paths of virtue;
     and on their severally promising never to appear again in
     that quarter, they were discharged."
</pre>
    <p>
      Passing through Temple Bar, "Once more," said <span class="pagenum">[342]</span>
      Dashall, "we enter the dominions of another Sovereign,&mdash;the Monarch
      of the City,&mdash;than whom there is none more tenacious of the rights
      and immunities of his subjects. Professing a strictly civil government,
      and consequent hostility to military interference, it does not always
      happen that the regal sway of the East harmonizes with that of the West,
      and the limited reign of the former is generally most popular when most in
      opposition to that of the latter. Several important events have occurred
      wherein a late patriotic Right Honourable Chief Magistrate has had the
      opportunity of manifesting a zealous, firm, and determined attachment to
      the privileges of the community: the good wishes of his fellow-citizens
      have accompanied his retirement, and his private and public worth will be
      long held in deserved estimation."
    </p>
    <p>
      Turning up the Old Bailey, and passing, with no pleasing sensations, that
      structure in front of which so many human beings expiate their offences
      with their lives, without, in any degree, the frequency of the dreadful
      example lessening the perpetration of crime,&mdash;"The crowd thickens,"
      exclaimed the 'Squire; and advancing into Smithfield, a new scene opened
      on the view of the astonished Tallyho. An immense and motley crowd was
      wedged together in the open space of the market, which was surrounded by
      booths and shows of every description, while the pavement was rendered
      nearly impassable by a congregated multitude, attracted by the long line
      of stalls, exhibiting, in ample redundancy, the gorgeously gilt array of
      ginger-bread monarchs, savory spice-nuts, toys for children and those of
      elder growth, and the numerous other <i>et cetera</i> of Bartholomew Fair,
      which at that moment the Lord Mayor of London, with accustomed state and
      formality, was in the act of proclaiming.
    </p>
    <p>
      A more dissonant uproar now astounded the ears of Bob than ever issued
      from the hounds at falt in the field or at variance in the kennel! The
      prolonged stunning and vociferous acclamation of the mob, accompanied by
      the deeply sonorous clangor of the gong&mdash;the shrill blast of the
      trumpet&mdash;the hoarse-resounding voices of the mountebanks, straining
      their lungs to the pitch of extremity, through speaking tubes&mdash;the
      screams of women and children, and the universal combination of discord,
      announced the termination of the Civic Sovereign's performance in the
      drama; "the revelry now had began," <span class="pagenum">[343]</span> and
      all was obstreperous uproar, and "confusion worse confounded."
    </p>
    <p>
      In the vortex of the vast assemblage, the Hon. Tom Dashall and his Cousin
      were more closely hemmed in than they probably would have been at the rout
      of female distinction, where inconvenience is the order of the night, and
      pressure, to the dread of suffocation, the criterion of rank and fashion.
      Borne on the confluent tide, retreat was impracticable; alternately then,
      stationary and advancing with the multitude, as it urged its slow and
      undulating progress; or paused at the attractions of Wombwell and
      Gillman's rival menageries&mdash;the equestrian shows of Clark and Astley&mdash;the
      theatres of Richardson and Gyngell, graced by the promenade of the <i>dramatis
      personæ</i> and lure of female nudity&mdash;the young giantess&mdash;the
      dwarfs&mdash;and the accomplished lady, who, born without arms, cuts out
      watch-papers with her toes, and takes your likeness with her teeth!&mdash;Amidst
      these and numerous other seductive impediments to their progress, our
      pedestrians, resisting alike temptation and invitation, penetrated the
      mass of spectators, and gained an egress at Long Lane, uninjured in
      person, and undamaged in property, "save and except" the loss, by Bob, of
      a shoe, and the rent frock of his honourable Cousin. To repair the one and
      replace the other was now the predominant consideration. By fortunate
      proximity to a descendant of St. Crispin, the latter object was speedily
      effected; but the difficulty of finding, in that neighbourhood, a knight
      of the thimble, appearing insurmountable, the two friends pursued their
      course, Dashall drawing under his arm the shattered skirts of his garment,
      until they reached Playhouse Yard, in Upper Whitecross Street, St. Luke's,
      to which they had been previously directed, the epitome of Monmouth
      Street, chiefly inhabited by tailors and old clothes retailers, where
      purchase and repair are equally available.
    </p>
    <p>
      Entering a shop occupied by an intelligent Scotch tailor, who, with his
      son, was busily employed in making up black cloth and kerseymere
      waistcoats, his spouse, a native of Edinburgh, with a smile of complacency
      and avidity of utterance that strongly indicated a view to the main
      chance, put her usual inquiry:
    </p>
    <p>
      "What is your wull, Gentlemen&mdash;what wad you please to want?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "My good lady," answered Dashall, "we would be <span class="pagenum">[344]</span>
      glad to accept the services of your husband," exhibiting at same time the
      rent skirts of his frock. "This accident was sustained in passing, or
      rather in being squeezed through the Fair; my friend too, experienced a
      trifling loss; but, as it has been replaced, I believe that he does not
      require present amendment."
    </p>
    <p>
      The materials destined to form the black waistcoats were then put aside,
      while the northern adept in the exercise of the needle proceeded to
      operate on the fractured garment; and a coat being supplied, <i>ad interim</i>,
      Tom and his friend accepted the "hospitable invitation of the guid wife,
      and seated themselves with unhesitating sociability.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And sae ye hae been to the Fair, gentlemen?" "We have, madam," said
      Dashall, "and unintentionally so; we were not, until on the spot, aware of
      any such exhibition, and got within its vortex just as the Lord Mayor had
      licensed, by proclamation, the commencement of this annual scene of
      idleness, riot and dissipation!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hoot awa, Sir, ye wadna wish to deprive us o' our amusements; poor folks
      dinna often enjoy pleasure, and why should na they hae a wee bit o' it now
      and then, as weel as the rich?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I know not, my good lady," exclaimed Bon, "that I can altogether
      assimilate with your's my ideas of pleasure; if it consists in being
      pressed nearly to death by a promiscuous rabble, in attempts on your
      pocket, shoes trod off your feet by the formidable iron-cased soles of a
      drayman's ponderous sandals, to say nothing of the pleasing effect thus
      produced upon your toes, and in having the coat torn off from your back, I
      would freely resign to the admirers of such pleasure the full benefit of
      its enjoyment."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Accidents wull happen ony where and in ony situation," replied the
      garrulous wife; "ye may be thankfu', gentlemen, that its nae waur,&mdash;and,
      for the matter o' the rent frock, my guid man wull repair it in sic a way
      that the disaster wull no be seen, and the coat wull look as weel as
      ever."
    </p>
    <p>
      The promise was verified; the reparation was made with equal neatness and
      celerity; something beyond the required remuneration was given; and
      Dashall inquiring if the worthy dame of <i>Auld Reekie</i> would take a
      drop of cordial, the friendly offer was accepted, and the glass of <span
      class="pagenum">[345]</span> good fellowship having been drank, and
      civilities interchanged, the strangers departed.
    </p>
    <p>
      They were now in Whitecross Street, where sojourned their acquaintance of
      the morning, the distressed Poet; and, from the accuracy of description,
      had no difficulty in ascertaining his place of residence.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was in a public-house; a convenient lodging for the forlorn being, who,
      exiled from friendship, and unconnected by any ties of consanguinity, can
      dress his scanty meal by a gratuitous fire, and where casual generosity
      may sometimes supply him with a draught of Hanbury's exhilarating
      beverage.
    </p>
    <p>
      At the bar, directly facing the street door, the strangers, on inquiring
      for the Poet by name, were directed by the landlord, with a sarcastical
      expression of countenance, to "the first floor <i>down the chimney</i>!"
      while the Hostess, whose demeanour perfectly accorded with that of the
      well-manner'd gentlewoman, politely interfered, and, shewing the parlour,
      sent a domestic to acquaint her lodger that he was wanted below stairs.
    </p>
    <p>
      The summons was instantaneously obeyed; but as the parlour precluded the
      opportunity of private conversation, being partly occupied by clamorous
      butchers, with whom this street abounds to redundancy, the Poet had no
      other alternative than that of inviting the respectable visitants to his
      attic, or, as the Landlord facetiously named the lofty domicile, his first
      floor down the chimney!
    </p>
    <p>
      Real Life in London must be seen, to be believed. The Hon. Tom Dashall and
      his friend Tallyho were reared in the lap of luxury, and never until now
      formed an adequate conception of the distressing privations attendant on
      suffering humanity.
    </p>
    <p>
      With a dejection of spirits evidently occasioned by the humiliating
      necessity of ushering his polished friends into the wretched asylum of
      penury, the Poet led the way with tardy reluctancy, while his visitors
      regretted every step of ascent, under the appalling circumstance of giving
      pain to adversity; yet they felt that to recede would be more indelicate
      than to advance.
    </p>
    <p>
      The apartment which they now entered seemed a lumber room, for the
      reception of superfluous or unserviceable furniture, containing not fewer
      than eleven decayed and mutilated chairs of varied description; and the
      limited space, to make the most of it in a pecuniary point of view, <span
      class="pagenum">[346]</span> was encroached upon by three uncurtained
      beds, of most impoverished appearance,&mdash;while, exhibiting the ravages
      of time in divers fractures, the dingy walls and ceiling, retouched by the
      trowel in many places with a lighter shade of repairing material, bore no
      unapt resemblance to the Pye-bald Horse in Chiswell-street! Calculating on
      its utility and probable future use, the builder of the mansion had given
      to this room the appendage of a chimney, but evidently it had for many
      years been unconscious of its usual accompaniment, fire. Two windows had
      originally admitted the light of heaven, but to reduce the duty, one was
      internally blocked up, while externally uniformity was preserved. A
      demolished pane of glass in the remaining window, close to which stood a
      small dilapidated table, gave ingress to a current of air; the convenient
      household article denominated a clothes-horse, stood against the wall; and
      several parallel lines of cord were stretched across the room, on which to
      hang wet linen, a garret being considered of free access to all the house,
      and the comfort or health of its occupant held in utter derision and
      contempt!
    </p>
    <p>
      Here then,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "In the worst Inn's worst room, with cobwebs hung,
          The walls of plaster and the floors of dung,"
</pre>
    <p>
      entered Dashall and his Cousin Tallyho. The latter familiarly seating
      himself on the ricketty remains of what had once been an arm-chair, but
      now a cripple, having lost one of its legs, the precarious equilibrium
      gave way under the unaccustomed shock of the contact, and the 'Squire came
      to the ground, to his no small surprise, the confusion of the poet, and
      amusement of Dashall!
    </p>
    <p>
      With many apologies for the awkwardness of their very humble
      accommodation, and grateful expression of thanks for the honour conferred
      upon him, the Poet replaced Tallyho in a firmer seat, and a silence of
      some few moments ensued, the two friends being at a loss in what manner to
      explain, and the Poet unwilling to inquire the object of their visit.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall began at last, by observing that in pursuit of the knowledge of
      Real Life in London, he and his accompanying friend had met with many
      incidents both ludicrous and interesting; but that in the present instance
      their visit was rather influenced by sympathy than <span class="pagenum">[347]</span>
      curiosity, and that where they could be serviceable to the interest of
      merit in obscurity, they always should be happy in the exercise of a duty
      so perfectly congenial with their feelings.
    </p>
    <p>
      Many years had elapsed since the person, to whom these remarks were
      addressed, had heard the voice of consolation, and its effect was
      instantaneous; his usual sombre cast of countenance became brightened by
      the glow of cheerful animation, and he even dwelt on the subject of his
      unfortunate circumstances with jocularity:
    </p>
    <p>
      "The elevated proximity of a garret," he observed, "to the sublimer
      regions, has often been resorted to as the <i>roost of genius</i>; and why
      should I, of the most slender, if any, literary pretensions, complain? And
      yet my writings, scattered amongst the various fugitive periodical
      publications of this and our sister island, if collected together, would
      form a very voluminous compilation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have always understood," said Bob, "that the quality, not the quantum,
      constituted the fame of an author's productions."
    </p>
    <p>
      "True, Sir," answered the Poet; "and I meant not the vanity of arrogating
      to myself any merit from my writings, with reference either to quantum or
      quality. I alluded to the former, as merely proving the inefficacy of
      mental labour in realizing the necessaries of life to an author whom
      celebrity declines acknowledging. Similarly situated, it would appear was
      the Dutchman mentioned by the late Doctor Walcot,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "My Broder is te poet, look,
          As all te world must please,
          For he heb wrote, py Got, a book
          So big as all this cheese!"
</pre>
    <p>
      "On the other hand, Collins, Hammond, and Gray, wrote each of them but
      little, yet their names will descend to posterity!&mdash;And had Gray, of
      his poems the <i>Bard</i>, and the <i>Elegy in a Country Church Yard</i>,
      written only one, and written nothing else, he had required no other or
      better passport to immortality!"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Of that great and multitudinous writer, Doctor Samuel
     Johnson, the following anecdote is told: "Being one morning
     in the library at Buckingham House honoured with the
     presence of Royalty, the King, his late Majesty, inquired
     why he, (Mr. Johnson) did not continue to write.    "May it
     please your Majesty," answered the Doctor, "I think I have
     written enough."&mdash;"I should have thought so too," his
     Majesty replied, "if, Doctor Johnson, you had not written so
     well."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[348]</span> In this opinion the visitants, who were
      both well conversant with our native literature, readily acquiesced.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Have you never," asked Dashall, "thought of publishing a volume by
      subscription?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I meditated such intention," answered the Poet, "not long ago; drew up
      the necessary Prospectus, with a specimen of the Poetry, and perambulated
      the Metropolis in search of patronage. In some few instances I was
      successful, and, though limited the number, yet the high respectability of
      my few Subscribers gave me inexpressible satisfaction; several of our
      nobility honoured me with their names, and others, my patrons, were of the
      very first class of literature. Nevertheless, I encountered much
      contumelious reception; and after an irksome and unavailing perseverance
      of a month's continuance, I was at last compelled to relinquish all hope
      of success.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Having then on my list the name of a very worthy Alderman who lately
      filled the Civic Chair with honour to himself and advantage to his
      fellow-citizens, I submitted my prospectus in an evil hour to another
      Alderman, a baronet, of this here and that there notoriety!
    </p>
    <p>
      "Waiting in his Banking-house the result of my application, he
      condescended to stalk forth from the holy of holies, his inner room, with
      the lofty demeanour of conscious importance, when, in the presence of his
      Clerks and others, doubtless to their great edification and amusement, the
      following colloquy ensued, bearing in his hand my unlucky Prospectus, with
      a respectful epistle which had accompanied it:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Are you the writer," he asked in a majesterial tone, "of this here
      letter?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am, Sir W*****m, unfortunately!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," he continued, "you may take them there papers back again, I have
      no time to read Prospectuses, and so Mister Poet my compliments, and good
      morning to you!!!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "These literally were his words; and such was the astounding effect they
      produced on my mind, that, although I had meant to have passed through the
      Royal Exchange, I yet, in the depth of my reverie, wandered I knew not
      where, and, before recovering my recollection, found myself in the centre
      of London Bridge!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[349]</span> The detail of this fact, so
      characteristic of rude, ungentlemanly manners, and the barbarian ignorance
      of this great man of little soul, excited against him, with Dashall and
      his friend, a mingled feeling of ridicule, contempt and reprobation!
    </p>
    <p>
      "Real Life in London still!" exclaimed Talltho; "intellect and indigence
      in a garret, and wealth and ignorance in a banking-house!&mdash;I would at
      least have given him, in deficiency of other means, the wholesome
      castigation of reproof."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I did," said the Poet, "stung to the quick by such unmerited contumely, I
      retired to my attic, and produced a philippic named the Recantation: I
      cannot accommodate you at present with a copy of the Poem, but the
      concluding stanzas I can repeat from memory:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "C****s, thy house in Lombard Street
          Affords thee still employment meet,
          Thy consequence retaining;
          For there thy Partners and thy Clerks
          Must listen to thy sage remarks,
          Subservient, uncomplaining.

          And rob'd in Aldermanic gown,
          With look and language all thy own,
          Thou mak'st thy hearers stare,
          When this here cause, so wisely tried,
          Thou put'st with self-applause aside,
          To wisely try that there.

          Nor can thy brother Cits forget
          When thou at civic banquet sate,
          And ask'd of Heaven a boon,
          A toast is call'd, on thee all eyes
          Intent, when peals of laughter rise&mdash;
          A speedy peace and soon!

          Nor yet orthography nor grammar,
          Vain effort on thy pate to hammer,
          Impregnable that fort is!
          Witness thy toast again,&mdash;Three Cs;
          For who would think that thou by these
          Meant Cox, and King, and Curtis
          C****s, though scant thy sense, yet Heaven
          To thee the better boon hast given
          Or wealth&mdash;then sense despise,
          And deem not Fate's decrees amiss,
          For still "where ignorance is bliss
          'Tis folly to be wise!"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[350]</span> "Bravo!" exclaimed Dashall; "re-issue
      your Prospectus, my friend, and we will accelerate, with our best interest
      and influence, the publication of your volume. Let it be dedicated to the
      Hon. Tom Dashall and his Cousin Bob Tallyho. In the meanwhile, accept this
      trifle, as a complimentary <i>douceur</i> uniformly given on such
      occasions; and, amidst the varied scenes of Real Life in London, I shall
      frequently recur to the present as the most gratifying to my feelings."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "By this the sun was out of sight,
          And darker gloamin brought the night."
</pre>
    <p>
      The benevolent associates now departed, pleased with the occurrences of
      the day, and, more than all, with the last, wherein the opportunity was
      afforded them of extending consolation and relief to genius in adversity!<span
      class="pagenum">[351]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link22HCH0006" id="link22HCH0006">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          ........"Mark!
          He who would cut the knot that does entwine
          And link two loving hearts in unison,
          May have man's form; but at his birth, be sure on't,
          Some devil thrust sweet nature's hand aside
          Ere she had pour'd her balm within his breast,
          To warm his gross and earthly mould with pity.

          .......I know what 'tis
          When worldly knaves step in with silver beards,
          To poison bliss, and pluck young souls asunder."
</pre>
    <p>
      TOM and his Cousin were surprised the next morning by a visit from Mr.
      Mortimer and his friend Merrywell, whose dismal features and long visages
      plainly indicated some unpleasant disaster, and Tom began to fear blame
      would be attached to them for leaving his party at Darkhouse Lane.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pray," said Merrywell, "can you tell me where to find your friend
      Sparkle?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Indeed," replied Dashall, a little relieved by this question, "I am not
      Sparkle's keeper; but pray be seated&mdash;what is the matter, is it a
      duel, do you want a second?&mdash;I know he is a good shot."
    </p>
    <p>
      "This levity, Sir," said Mortimer, "is not to be borne. The honour of a
      respectable family is at stake, and must be satisfied. No doubt you, as
      his very oldest friend, know where he is; and I desire you will
      immediately inform me, or&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Sir," said Dashall, who was as averse as unused to be desired by any
      person&mdash;"do you know whom you address, and that I am in my own house?
      if you do, you have certainly discarded all propriety of conduct and
      language before you cross'd the threshold."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Gentlemen," said Merrywell, "perhaps some explanation is really necessary
      here. My friend Mortimer speaks under agonized feelings, for which, I am
      sure, your good sense will make every allowance. Miss Mortimer&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Miss Mortimer," exclaimed Dashall, rising from his <span class="pagenum">[352]</span>
      seat, "you interest me strongly, say, what of Miss Mortimer?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Alas," said Mortimer, evidently endeavouring to suppress emotions which
      appeared to agitate his whole frame, and absorb every mental faculty, "we
      are unable to account for her absence, and strongly suspect she is in
      company with your friend Sparkle&mdash;can you give us any information
      relative to either of them?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall assured them he knew nothing of the fugitives, but that he would
      certainly make every inquiry in his power, if possible to find out
      Sparkle. Upon which they departed, though not without hinting they
      expected Tom had the power of making a search more effectually than either
      Mortimer or Merrywell.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad!" said Tom to Tallyho, "this absence of Sparkle means something more
      than I can at present conceive; and it appears that we must now venture
      forth in search of our guide. I hope he has taken a good direction
      himself."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mortimer appears hurt," continued Bob, "and I can scarcely wonder at it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is a trifle in high life now-a-days," replied Dashall, "and my life
      for it we shall obtain some clue to his mode of operation before the day
      is out. Love is a species of madness, and oftentimes induces extraordinary
      movements. I have discovered its existence in his breast for some time
      past, and if he is really with the lady, I wonder myself that he has not
      given some sort of intimation; though I know he is very cautious in laying
      his plans, and very tenacious of admitting too many persons to know his
      intentions, for fear of some indiscreet friend unintentionally frustrating
      his designs."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I apprehend we shall have a wild-goose chase of it," rejoined Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It serves however," continued Tom, "to diversify our peregrinations; and
      if it is his pleasure to be in love, we will endeavour to chase pleasure
      in pursuit of the Lover, and if guided by honourable motives, which I
      cannot doubt, we will wish him all the success he can wish himself, only
      regretting that we are deprived of his agreeable company.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Still free as air the active mind will rove,
          And search out proper objects for its love;
          But that once fix'd, 'tis past the pow'r of art
          To chase the dear idea from the heart.
          'Tis liberty of choice that sweetens life,
          Makes the glad husband and the happy wife."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[353]</span> "But come, let us forth and see how the
      land lies; many persons obtain all their notoriety from an elopement; it
      makes a noise in the world, and even though frequently announced in our
      newspapers under fictitious titles, the parties soon become known and are
      recollected ever after; and some even acquire fame by the insertion of a
      paragraph announcing an elopement, in which they insinuate that themselves
      are parties; so that an elopement in high life may be considered as one of
      the sure roads to popularity."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But not always a safe one," replied Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Life is full of casualties," rejoined Dashall, "and you are by this time
      fully aware that it requires something almost beyond human foresight to
      continue in the line of safety, while you are in pursuit of Real Life in
      London. Though it may fairly be said, 'That all the world's a stage, and
      all the men and women merely passengers,' still they have their inside and
      their outside places, and each man in his time meets with strange
      adventures. It may also very properly be termed a Camera Obscura,
      reflecting not merely trees, sign-posts, houses, &amp;c. but the human
      heart in all its folds, its feelings, its passions, and its motives. In it
      you may perceive conceit flirting its fan&mdash;arrogance adjusting its
      cravat&mdash;pedantry perverting its dictionary&mdash;vacuity humming a
      tune&mdash;vanity humming his neighbour&mdash;cunning shutting his eyes
      while listening to a pedagogue&mdash;and credulity opening his eyes and
      ears, willing and anxious to be deceived and duped."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is a strange world, indeed," said Tallyho; "and of all that I have
      ever heard or seen, this London of your's is the most extraordinary part."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "This world is a well-cover'd table,
          Where guests are promiscuously set;
          We all eat as long as we're able,
          And scramble for what we can get&mdash;"
</pre>
    <p>
      answered his Cousin; "in fact, it is like every thing, and at the same
      time like nothing&mdash;<span class="pagenum">[354]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The world is all nonsense and noise,
          Fantoccini, or Ombres Chinoises,
          Mere pantomime mummery
          Puppet-show flummery;
          A magical lantern, confounding the sight;

          Like players or puppets, we move
          On the wires of ambition and love;
          Poets write wittily,
          Maidens look prettily,
          'Till death drops the curtain
                &mdash;all's over&mdash;good night!"
</pre>
    <p>
      By this time they were at Long's, where, upon inquiry, all trace of
      Sparkle had been lost for two days. All was mystery and surprise, not so
      much that he should be absent, as that his servant could give no account
      of him, which was rather extraordinary. Tom ascertained, however, that no
      suspicion appeared to have been excited as to Miss Mortimer, and, with
      commendable discretion, avoided expressing a word which could create such
      an idea, merely observing, that most likely he had taken an unexpected
      trip into the country, and would be heard of before the day was out.
    </p>
    <p>
      On leaving Long's however they were met again by Mortimer in breathless
      anxiety, evidently labouring under some new calamity.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am glad I have found you," said he, addressing himself to Dashall; "for
      I am left in this d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d wilderness of a place without a
      friend to speak to."
    </p>
    <p>
      "How," inquired Ton, "what the d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;l is the matter with
      you?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, you must know that Merry well is gone&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Gone&mdash;where to?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "To&mdash;to&mdash;zounds, I've forgot the name of the people; but two
      genteel looking fellows just now very genteely told him he was wanted, and
      must come."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Indeed!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, and he told me to find you out, and let you know that he must become
      a bencher; and, without more todo, walked away with his new friends,
      leaving me forlorn enough. My Sister run away, my Uncle run after her&mdash;Sparkle
      absent, and Merrywell&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the hands of the Nab-men&mdash;I see it all clear enough; and you have
      given a very concise, but comprehensive picture of your own situation; but
      don't despair, man, you will yet find all right, be assured; put yourself
      under my guidance, let the world wag as it will; it is useless to torment
      yourself with things you cannot prevent or cure.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The right end of life is to live and be jolly."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[355]</span> Mortimer scarcely knew how to relish
      this advice, and seemed to doubt within himself whether it was meant
      satirically or feelingly, till Dashall whispered in his ear a caution not
      to betray the circumstances that had transpired, for his Sister's sake.
      "But," continued he, "I never suffer these things, which are by no means
      uncommon in London, to interfere with my pursuits, though we are all
      somewhat at a loss. However, as the post is in by this time, some news may
      be expected, and we will call at home before we proceed any further.&mdash;Where
      do you think the Colonel is gone to?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Heaven only knows," replied Mortimer; "the whole family is in an uproar
      of surmise and alarm,&mdash;what may be the end of it I know not."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A pretty breeze Master Sparkle has kick'd up, indeed," continued Tom;
      "but I have for some time noticed an alteration in him. He always was a
      gay trump, and whenever I find him seriously inclined, I suspect some
      mischief brewing; for rapid transitions always wear portentous
      appearances, and your serious files are generally sly dogs. My life for it
      they have stolen a march upon your Uncle, queered some country Parson, and
      are by this time snugly stowed away in the harbour of matrimony. As for
      Merrywell, I dare be sworn his friends will take care of him."
    </p>
    <p>
      Expectation was on tiptoe as Dashall broke the seal of a letter that was
      handed to him on arrival at home. Mortimer was on the fidget, and Tallyho
      straining his neck upon the full stretch of anxiety to hear the news, when
      Dashall burst into a laugh, but in which neither of the others could join
      in consequence of not knowing the cause of it. In a few minutes however
      the mystery was in some degree explained.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here," said Tom, "is news&mdash;extraordinary news&mdash;an official
      dispatch from head-quarters, but without any information as to where the
      tents are pitched. It is but a short epistle." He then read aloud,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dear Dashall,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Please inform the Mortimer family and friends that all's well.
    </p>
    <p>
      Your's truly,
    </p>
    <p>
      C. Sparkle."
    </p>
    <p>
      Then handing the laconic epistle to Mortimer&mdash;"I trust," said he,
      "you will now be a little more at ease."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[356]</span> Mortimer eagerly examined the letter
      for the postmark, but was not able to make out from whence it came.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess," said he, "I am better satisfied than I was, but am yet at a
      loss to judge of the motives which have induced them to pursue so strange
      a course."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The motive," cried Tom, "that may be easily explained; and I doubt not
      but you will find, although it may at present appear a little mysterious,
      Sparkle will be fully able to shew cause and produce effect. He is however
      a man of honour and of property, and most likely we may by this time
      congratulate you upon the change of your Sister's name. What a blaze it
      will make, and she will now most certainly become a sparkling subject.
      Hang it, man, don't look so dull upon a bright occasion.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "To prove pleasure but pain, some have hit on a project,
          We're duller the merrier we grow,
          Exactly the same unaccountable logic
          That talks of cold fire and warm snow.

          For me, born by nature
          For humour and satire,
          I sing and I roar and I quaff;
          Each muscle I twist it,
          I cannot resist it,
          A finger held up makes me laugh.

          For since pleasure's joy's parent, and joy begets mirth,
          Should the subtlest casuist or sophist on earth
          Contradict me, I'd call him an ass and a calf,
          And boldly insist once for all,
          That the only criterion of pleasure's to laugh,
          And sing tol de rol, loi de rol lol."
</pre>
    <p>
      This mirth of Dash all's did not seem to be in consonance with the
      feelings of Mortimer, who hastily took his departure.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Tom to his Cousin, "having gained some information respecting
      one friend, we will now take a stroll through Temple Bar, and have a peep
      at Merrywell; he may perhaps want assistance in his present situation,
      though I will answer for it he is in a place of perfect security."
    </p>
    <p>
      "How," said Bob&mdash;"what do you mean?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mean, why the traps have nibbled him. He is arrested, and gone to a
      lock-up shop, a place of mere accommodation for gentlemen to take up their
      abode, for the purpose of <span class="pagenum">[357]</span> arranging
      their affairs, and where they can uninterruptedly make up their minds
      whether to give bail, put in appearance and defend the suit, or take a
      trip to Abbott's Priory; become a three months' student in the college of
      art, and undergo the fashionable ceremony of white-washing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I begin to understand you now," said Bob, "and the only difference
      between our two friends is, that one has willingly put on a chain for life&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "And the other may in all probability (continued Tom,) have to chaff his
      time away with a chum&mdash;perhaps not quite so agreeable, though it
      really is possible to be very comfortable, if a man can reconcile himself
      to the loss of liberty, even in "durance vile."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they were walking leisurely along Piccadilly,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "And marching without any cumbersome load,
          They mark'd every singular sight on the road."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Who is that meagre looking man and waddling woman, who just passed us?"
      inquired Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "An old Bencher," was the reply; "there you see all that is left of a man
      of <i>haut ton</i>, one who has moved in the highest circles; but alas!
      bad company and bad play have reduced him to what he now is. He has cut up
      and turn'd down very well among the usurers and attornies; but it is
      impossible to say of him, as of his sirloin of a wife (for she cannot be
      called a rib, or at all events a spare rib) that there is any thing like
      cut and come again. The poor worn-out Exquisite tack'd himself to his
      Lady, to enable him to wipe out a long score, and she determined on taking
      him for better for worse, after a little rural felicity in a walk to have
      her fortune told by a gipsy at Norwood. He is now crippled in pocket and
      person, and wholly dependent upon bounty for the chance of prolonging a
      miserable existence. His game is up. But what is life but a game, at which
      every one is willing to play? one wins and another loses: why there have
      been as many moves among titled persons, Kings, Queens, Bishops, Lords and
      Knights, within the last century, as there are in a game at chess. Pawns
      have been taken and restored in all classes, from the Sovereign, who pawns
      or loses his crown, to the Lady whose reputation is in pawn, and becomes
      at last not worth half a crown. Shuffling, cutting, dealing out and <span
      class="pagenum">[358]</span> dealing in, double dealing and double faces,
      have long been the order of the day. Some men's cards are all trumps,
      whilst others have <i>carte blanche</i>; some honours count, whilst others
      stand for nothing. For instance, did not the little man who cast up his
      final accounts a short time back at St. Helena, like a Corsican conjurer,
      shuffle and cut about among kings and queens, knaves and asses, (aces I
      mean) dealing out honours when he liked, and taking trumps as he thought
      fit?&mdash;did he not deal and take up again almost as he pleased, having
      generally an honour in his sleeve to be played at command, or <i>un roi
      dans le marche</i>; by which cheating, it was scarcely possible for any
      one to get fair play with him, till, flushed by success, and not knowing
      how to bear his prosperity, he played too desperately and too long? The
      tables were turned upon him, and his enemies cheated him, first of his
      liberty, and ultimately of his life."
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment Tallyho, who was listening in close attention to his
      Cousin, struck his foot against a brown paper parcel which rolled before
      him.&mdash;"Hallo!" exclaimed he, "what have we here?&mdash;somebody has
      dropped a prize."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is mine, Sir," said an old woman, dropping them a curtsey with a smile
      which shone through her features, though thickly begrimed with snuff.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A bite," said Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I dropp'd it from my pocket, Sir, just now."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And pray," inquired Tom, "what does it contain?" picking it up.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Snuff, Sir," was the reply; "a kind, good-hearted Gentleman gave it to me&mdash;God
      bless him, and bless your Honour too!" with an additional smile, and a
      still lower curtsey.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon examining the paper, which had been broken by the kick, Tom
      perceived, that by some magic or other, the old woman's snuff had become
      sugar.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds!" said he, "they have played some trick upon you, and given you
      brimstone instead of snuff, or else you are throwing dust in our eyes."
    </p>
    <p>
      The parcel, which contained a sample of sugar, was carefully rolled up
      again and tied, then dropped to be found by any body else who chose to
      stoop for it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This," said Dashall, "does not turn out to be what I first expected; for
      the practices of ring and money <span class="pagenum">[359]</span>
      dropping{1} have, at various times, been carried on with great success,
      and to the serious injury of the unsuspecting. The persons who generally
      apply themselves to this species of cheating are no other than gamblers
      who ingeniously contrive, by dropping a purse or a ring, to draw in some
      customer with a view to induce him to play; and notwithstanding their arts
      have frequently been exposed, we every now and then hear of some flat
      being done by these sharps, and indeed there are constantly customers in
      London to be had one way or another."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then you had an idea that that parcel was a bait of this kind," rejoined
      Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I did," replied his Cousin; "but it appears to be a legitimate letter
      from some industrious mechanic to his friend, and is a curious specimen of
      epistolary correspondence; and you perceive there was a person ready to
      claim it, which conspired rather to confirm my suspicions, being a little
      in the style of the gentry I have alluded to. They vary their mode of
      proceeding according to situation and circumstance. Your money-dropper
      contrives to find his own property, as if by chance. He picks up the purse
      with an exclamation of 'Hallo! what have we here?&mdash;Zounds! if here is
      not a prize&mdash;I'm in rare luck to-day&mdash;Ha, ha, ha, let's have a
      peep at it&mdash;it feels heavy, and no doubt is worth having.' While he
      is examining its contents, up comes his confederate, who claims a share on
      account of having been present at the finding. 'Nay, nay,' replies the
      finder, 'you are not in it. This Gentleman is the only person that was
      near me&mdash;was not you, Sir? 'By this means the novice is induced to
      assent, or perhaps assert his prior claim. The finder declares,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The practice of ring-dropping is not wholly confined to
     London, as the following paragraph from the Glasgow Courier,
     a very short time ago, will sufficiently prove:&mdash;'On Monday
     afternoon, when three Highland women, who had been employed
     at a distance from home in the harvest, were returning to
     their habitations, they were accosted by a fellow who had
     walked out a short way with them, 'till he picked up a pair
     of ear-rings and a key for a watch. The fellow politely
     informed the females that they should have half the value of
     the articles, as they were in his company when they were
     found. While they were examining them, another fellow came
     up, who declared at once they were gold, and worth at least
     thirty shillings. After some conversation, the women were
     induced to give fifteen shillings for the articles, and came
     and offered them to a watch-maker for sale, when they
     learned to their mortification that they were not worth
     eighteen pence!'
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[360]</span> that sooner than have any dispute about
      it, he will divide the contents in three parts; recommends an adjournment
      to a public-house in the neighbourhood, to wet the business and drink over
      their good luck. This being consented to, the leading points are
      accomplished. The purse of course is found to contain counterfeit money&mdash;Flash-screens
      or Fleet-notes,{1} and the division cannot well be made without change can
      be procured. Now comes the touch-stone. The Countryman, for such they
      generally contrive to inveigle, is perhaps in cash, having sold his hay,
      or his cattle, tells them he can give change; which being understood, the
      draught-board, cards, or la bagatelle, are introduced, and as the job is a
      good one, they can afford to sport some of their newly-acquired wealth in
      this way. They drink and play, and fill their grog again. The Countryman
      bets; if he loses, he is called upon to pay; if he wins, 'tis added to
      what is coming to him out of the purse.
    </p>
    <p>
      "If, after an experiment or two, they find he has but little money, or
      fight shy, they bolt, that is, brush off in quick time, leaving him to
      answer for the reckoning. But if he is what they term well-breeched, and
      full of cash, they stick to him until he is cleaned out,{2} make him
      drunk, and, if he turns restive, they mill him. If he should be an easy
      cove,{3} he perhaps give them change for their flash notes, or counterfeit
      coin, and they leave him as soon as possible, highly pleased with his
      fancied success, while they laugh in their sleeves at the dupe of their
      artifice."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And is it possible?" inquired Tallyho&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Can such things be,  and overcome us
          Like a summer's cloud?"
</pre>
    <p>
      "Not without our special wonder," continued Dashall; "but such things have
      been practised. Then again, your ring-droppers, or practisers of the
      fawney rig, are more cunning in their manoeuvres to turn their wares into
      the ready blunt.{4} The pretending to find a ring being one of the meanest
      and least profitable exercises of their ingenuity, it forms a part of
      their art to find articles of much more
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Flash-screens or Fleet-notes&mdash;Forged notes.

     2 Cleaned out&mdash;Having lost all your money.

     3 Easy cove&mdash;One whom there is no difficulty in gulling.

     4 Ready blunt&mdash;Cash in hand.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[361]</span> value, such as rich jewelry, broaches,
      ear-rings, necklaces set with diamonds, pearls, &amp;c. sometimes made
      into a paper parcel, at others in a small neat red morocco case, in which
      is stuck a bill of parcels, giving a high-flown description of the
      articles, and with an extravagant price. Proceeding nearly in the same way
      as the money-droppers with the dupe, the finder proposes, as he is rather
      short of <i>steeven</i>,{1} to <i>swap</i>{2}his share for a comparatively
      small part of the value stated in the bill of parcels: and if he succeeds
      in obtaining one-tenth of that amount in hard cash, his triumph is
      complete; for, upon examination, the diamonds turn out to be nothing but
      paste&mdash;the pearls, fishes' eyes&mdash;and the gold is merely polished
      brass gilt, and altogether of no value. But this cannot be discovered
      beforehand, because the <i>bilk</i>{3} is in a hurry, can't spare time to
      go to a shop to have the articles valued, but assures his intended victim,
      that, as they found together, he should like to <i>smack the bit</i>,{4
      }without <i>blowing the gap</i>,{5} and so help him G&mdash;d, the thing
      wants no <i>buttering up</i>,{6} because he is willing to give his share
      for such a trifle."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Steeven&mdash;A flash term for money.

     2 Swap&mdash;To make an exchange, to barter one article for
     another.

     3 A swindler or cheat.

     4 Smack the bit&mdash;To share the booty.

     5 Blowing the gap&mdash;Making any thing known.

     6 Buttering up&mdash;Praising or flattering.
</pre>
    <p>
      This conversation was suddenly interrupted by a violent crash just behind
      them, as they passed Drury Lane Theatre in their way through Bussel Court;
      and Bob, upon turning to ascertain from whence such portentous sounds
      proceeded, discovered that he had brought all the Potentates of the Holy
      Alliance to his feet. The Alexanders, the Caesars, the Buonapartes,
      Shakespeares, Addisons and Popes, lay strewed upon the pavement, in one
      undistinguished heap, while a poor Italian lad with tears in his eyes
      gazed with indescribable anxiety on the shapeless ruin&mdash;' Vat shall
      me do?&mdash;dat man knock him down&mdash;all brokt&mdash;you pay&mdash;Oh!
      mine Godt, vat shall do! ' This appeal was made to Dashall and Tallyho,
      the latter of whom the poor Italian seemed to fix upon as the author of
      his misfortune in upsetting his board of plaster images; and although he
      was perfectly unconscious of the accident, the appeal of the vender of
      great personages had its desired effect upon them both; and <span
      class="pagenum">[362]</span> finding themselves quickly surrounded by
      spectators, they gave him some silver, and then pursued their way.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These men," said Dashall, "are generally an industrious and hard-living
      people; they walk many miles in the course of a day to find sale for their
      images, which they will rather sell at any price than carry back with them
      at night; and it is really wonderful how they can make a living by their
      traffic."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha, ha, ha," said a coarse spoken fellow following&mdash;"how the Jarman
      Duck diddled the Dandies just now&mdash;did you twig how he queered the
      coves out of seven bob for what was not worth <i>thrums.</i>{1} The <i>Yelper</i>{2}
      did his duty well, and finger'd the <i>white wool</i>{3} in good style.
      I'm d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d if he was not up to slum, and he whiddied
      their wattles with the velvet, and floored the town toddlers easy enough."
    </p>
    <p>
      "How do you mean?" said his companion.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why you know that foreign blade is an ould tyke about this quarter, and
      makes a good deal of money&mdash;many a <i>twelver</i>{4} does he get by
      buying up broken images of persons who sell them by wholesale, and he of
      course gets them for little or nothing: then what does he do but dresses
      out his board, to give them the best appearance he can, and toddles into
      the streets, <i>touting</i>{5} for a good customer. The first genteel bit
      of flash he meets that he thinks will dub up the possibles,{6} he dashes
      down the board, breaks all the broken heads, and appeals in a pitiful way
      for remuneration for his loss; so that nine times out of ten he gets some
      Johnny-raw or other to stump up the rubbish."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds!" said Dashall, "these fellows are smoking us; and, in the midst
      of my instructions to guard you against the abuses of the Metropolis, we
      have ourselves become the dupes of an impostor."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Thrums&mdash;A flash term for threepence.

     2 The Yelper&mdash;A common term given to a poor fellow subject,
     who makes very pitiful lamentations on the most trifling
     accidents.

     3 White wool&mdash;Silver.

     4 Twelver&mdash;A shilling.

     5 Touting&mdash;Is to be upon the sharp look out.

     6 To dub up the possibles&mdash;To stand the nonsense&mdash;are nearly
     synonimous, and mean&mdash;will pay up any demand rather than be
     detained.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[363]</span> "Well," said Tallyho, "it is no more
      than a practical illustration of your own observation, that it is scarcely
      possible for any person to be at all times secure from the arts and
      contrivances of your ingenious friends the Londoners; though I confess I
      was little in expectation of finding you, as an old practitioner, so
      easily let in."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is not much to be wondered at," continued Tom, "for here we are in the
      midst of the very persons whose occupations, if such they may be termed,
      ought most to be avoided; for Covent Garden, and Drury Lane, with their
      neighbourhoods, are at all times infested with swindlers, sharpers,
      whores, thieves, and depredators of all descriptions, for ever on the look
      out. It is not long since a man was thrown from a two-pair of stairs
      window in Charles Street,{1} which is just by, having been decoyed into a
      house of ill fame by a Cyprian, and this in a situation within sight of
      the very Police Office itself in Bow Street!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Huzza! ha, ha, ha, there he goes," vociferated by a variety of voices,
      now called their attention, and put an end to their conversation; and the
      appearance of a large concourse of people running up Drury Lane, engrossed
      their notice as they approached the other end of Russel Court.
    </p>
    <p>
      On coming up with the crowd, they found the cause of the vast assemblage
      of persons to be no other than a Quaker{2} decorated with a tri-coloured
      cockade, who was
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 A circumstance of a truly alarming and distressing nature,
     to which Dashall alluded in this place, was recently made
     known to the public in the daily journals, and which should
     serve as a lesson to similar adventurers.

     It appeared that a young man had been induced to enter a
     house of ill fame in Charles Street, Covent Garden, by one
     of its cyprian inmates, to whom he gave some money in order
     for her to provide them with supper; that, upon her return,
     he desired to have the difference between what he had given
     and what she had expended returned to him, which being
     peremptorily refused, he determined to leave the house. On
     descending the stair-case for which purpose, he was met by
     some men, with whom he had a violent struggle to escape;
     they beat and bruised him most unmercifully, and afterwards
     threw him from a two-pair of stairs window into the street,
     where he was found by the Watchman with his skull fractured,
     and in a state of insensibility. We believe all attempts
     have hitherto proved fruitless to bring the actual
     perpetrator or perpetrators of this diabolical deed to
     punishment.

     2 Bow-street.&mdash;Thursday morning an eccentric personage, who
     has for some time been seen about the streets of the
     Metropolis in the habit of a Quaker, and wearing the tri-
     coloured cockade in his broad white hat, made his appearance
     at the door of this office, and presenting a large packet to
     one of the officers, desired him, in a tone of authority, to
     lay it instantly before the Magistrate. The Magistrate (G.
     R. Minshull, Esq.) having perused this singular paper,
     inquired for the person who brought it; and in the next
     moment a young man, in the garb of a Quaker, with a broad-
     brimmed, peaceful-looking, drab-coloured beaver on his
     head, surmounted by a furious tri-coloured cockade, was
     brought before him. This strange anomalous ' personage
     having placed himself very carefully directly in front of
     the bench, smiled complacently upon his Worship, and the
     following laconic colloquy ensued forthwith:&mdash;

     Magistrate&mdash;Did you bring this letter?

     Quaker&mdash;Thou hast said it.

     Magistrate&mdash;-What is your object in bringing it?

     Quaker&mdash;Merely to let thee know what is going on in the
     world&mdash;and, moreover, being informed that if I came to thy
     office, I should be taken into custody, I was desiroiis to
     ascertain whether that information was true.

     Magistrate&mdash;Then I certainly shall not gratify you by
     ordering you into custody.

     Quaker&mdash;Thou wilt do as seemeth right in thy eyes. I assure
     thee I have no inclination to occupy thy time longer than is
     profitable to us, and therefore I will retire whenever thou
     shalt signify that my stay is unpleasant to thee.

     Magistrate&mdash;Why do you wear your hat?&mdash;are you a Quaker?

     Quaker&mdash;Thou sayest it&mdash;but that is not my sole motive for
     wearing it. To be plain with thee, I wear it because I chose
     to do so.    Canst thee tell me of any law which compels me
     to take it off?

     Magistrate&mdash;I'll tell you what, friend, I would seriously
     recommend you to retire from this place as speedily as
     possible.

     Quaker&mdash;I take thy advice&mdash;farewell.

     Thus ended this comical conversation, and the eccentric
     friend immediately departed in peace.

     The brother of the above person attended at the office on
     Saturday, and stated that the Quaker is insane, that he was
     proprietor of an extensive farm near Ryegate, in Surrey, for
     some years; but that in May last his bodily health being
     impaired, he was confined for some time, and on his recovery
     it was found that his intellects were affected, and he was
     put under restraint, but recovered. Some time since he
     absconded from Ryegate, and his friends were unable to
     discover him, until they saw the account of his eccen-
     tricities in the newspapers. Mr. Squire was desirous, if he
     made his appearance again at the office, he should be
     detained. The Magistrate, as a cause for the detention of
     the Quaker, swore the brother to these facts. About three
     o'clock the Quaker walked up Bow-street, when an officer
     conducted him to the presence of the Magistrate, who
     detained him, and at seven o'clock delivered him into the
     care of his brother.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[365]</span> very quietly walking with a Police
      Officer, and exhibiting a caricature of himself mounted on a velocipede,
      and riding over corruption, &amp;c. It was soon ascertained that he had
      accepted an invitation from one of the Magistrates of Bow Street to pay
      him a visit, as he had done the day before, and was at that moment going
      before him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I apprehend he is a little cracked," said Tom; "but however that may be,
      he is a very harmless sort of person. But come, we have other game in
      view, and our way lies in a different direction to his."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Clothes, Sir, any clothes to-day?" said an importunate young fellow at
      the corner of one of the courts, who at the same time almost obstructed
      their passage.
    </p>
    <p>
      Making their way as quickly as they could from this very pressing
      personage, who invited them to walk in.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This," said Tom, "is what we generally call a <i>Barker</i>. I believe
      the title originated with the Brokers in Moor-fields, where men of this
      description parade in the fronts of their employers' houses, incessantly
      pressing the passengers to walk in and buy household furniture, as they do
      clothes in Rosemary Lane, Seven Dials, Field Lane, Houndsditch, and
      several other parts of the town. Ladies' dresses also used to be barked in
      Cranbourn Alley and the neighbourhood of Leicester Fields; however, the
      nuisance has latterly in some measure abated. The Shop-women in that part
      content themselves now-a-days by merely inviting strangers to look at
      their goods; but Barkers are still to be found, stationed at the doors of
      Mock Auctions, who induce company to assemble, by bawling "Walk in, the
      auction is now on," or "Just going to begin." Of these mock auctions,
      there have been many opened of an evening, under the imposing glare of
      brilliant gas lights, which throws an unusual degree of lustre upon the
      articles put up for sale. It is not however very difficult to distinguish
      them from the real ones, notwithstanding they assume all the exterior
      appearances of genuineness, even up to advertisements in the newspapers,
      purporting to be held in the house of a person lately gone away under
      embarrassed circumstances, or deceased. They are denominated Mock
      Auctions, because no real intention exists on the part of the sellers to
      dispose of their articles under a certain price previously fixed upon,
      which, although it may not be high, is invariably more than they are
      actually worth: besides which, they may be easily discovered by the
      anxiety they evince to show the goods to strangers at
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[366]</span>the moment they enter, never failing to
      bestow over-strained panegyrics upon every lot they put up, and asking
      repeatedly&mdash;"What shall we say for this article? a better cannot be
      produced;" and promising, if not approved of when purchased, to change it.
      The Auctioneer has a language suited to all companies, and, according to
      his view of a customer, can occasionally jest, bully, or perplex him into
      a purchase.&mdash;"The goods must be sold at what they will fetch;" and he
      declares (notwithstanding among his confederates, who stand by as bidders,
      they are run up beyond the real value, in order to catch a flat,) that
      "the present bidding can never have paid the manufacturer for his labour."
    </p>
    <p>
      In such places, various articles of silver, plate, glass and household
      furniture are exposed to sale, but generally made up of damaged materials,
      and slight workmanship of little intrinsic value, for the self-same
      purpose as the Razor-seller states&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Friend, (cried the Razor-man) I'm no knave;
          As for the razors you have bought,
          Upon my soul!  I never thought
          That they would shave."

          "Not shave!" quoth Hodge, with wond'ring eyes,
          And voice not much unlike an Indian yell;
          "What were they made for then, you dog?"  he cries.
          "Made!  (quoth the fellow with a smile) to sell."
</pre>
    <p>
      Passing the end of White Horse Yard&mdash;"Here," continued Tom, "in this
      yard and the various courts and alleys which lead into it, reside numerous
      Girls in the very lowest state of prostitution; and it is dangerous even
      in the day time to pass their habitations, at all events very dangerous to
      enter any one of them. Do you see the crowd of squalid, half-clad and
      half-starved creatures that surround the old woman at the corner?&mdash;Observe,
      that young thing without a stocking is stealing along with a bottle in one
      hand and a gown in the other; she is going to put the latter <i>up the
      spout</i>{1} with her
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Up the spout, or up the five&mdash;Are synonimous in their
     import, and mean the act of pledging property with a
     Pawnbroker for the loan of money&mdash;most probably derived from
     the practice of having a long spout, which reaches from the
     top of the house of the Pawn-broker (where the goods are
     deposited for safety till redeemed or sold) to the shop,
     where they are first received; through which a small bag is
     dropped upon the ringing of a bell, which conveys the
     tickets or duplicates to a person above stairs, who, upon
     finding them, (unless too bulky) saves himself the trouble
     and loss of time of coming down stairs, by more readily
     conveying them down the spout.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[367]</span> accommodating <i>Uncle,</i>{1} in order
      to obtain a little of the enlivening juice of the juniper to fill the
      former."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Uncle, sometimes called the Ferrit, or the Flint&mdash;Cant
     terms for Pawnbroker, though many of these gentlemen now
     assume the more reputable appellation of Silversmiths. They
     are willing to lend money upon all sorts of articles of
     household furniture, linen, plate, wearing apparel,
     jewellery, &amp;c. with a certainty of making a very handsome
     profit upon the money so circulated.

     There are in this Metropolis upwards of two hundred and
     thirty Pawnbrokers, and in some cases they are a useful and
     serviceable class of people; and although doubtless many of
     them are honest and reputable persons, there are still among
     them a class of sharpers and swindlers, who obtain licences
     to carry on the business, and bring disgrace upon the
     respectable part of the profession. Every species of fraud
     which can add to the distresses of those who are compelled
     to raise temporary supplies of money is resorted to, and for
     which purpose there are abundance of opportunities. In many
     instances however the utility of these persons, in
     preventing a serious sacrifice of property, cannot be
     denied; for, by advancing to tradesmen and mechanics
     temporary loans upon articles of value at a period of
     necessity, an opportunity of redeeming them is afforded,
     when by their industrious exertions their circumstances are
     improved. Many of them however are receivers of stolen
     good.s, and, under cover of their licence, do much harm to
     the public. Indeed, the very easy mode of raising money by
     means of the Pawnbrokers, operates as an inducement, or at
     least an encouragement, to every species of vice. The
     fraudulent tradesman by their means is enabled to raise
     money on the goods of his creditors, the servant to pledge
     the property of his employer, and the idle or profligate
     mechanic to deposit his working tools, or his work in an
     unfinished state. Many persons in London are in the habit of
     pawning their apparel from Monday morning till Saturday
     night, when they are redeemed, in order to make a decent
     appearance on the next day. In low neighbourhoods, and among
     loose girls, much business is done by Pawnbrokers to good
     advantage; and considerable emolument is derived from women
     of the town. The articles they offer to pledge are generally
     of the most costly nature, and the pilferings of the night
     are usually placed in the hands of an Uncle the next
     morning; and the wary money-lenders, fully acquainted with
     their necessities, just lend what they please; by which
     means they derive a wonderful profit, from the almost
     certainty of these articles never being redeemed.

     The secresy with which a Pawnbroker's business is conducted,
     though very proper for the protection of the honest and
     well-meaning part of the population, to shield them from an
     exposure which might perhaps prove fatal to their business or
     credit, admits of great room for fraud on the part of the
     Money-lender; more particularly as it respects the interest
     allowed upon the pawns. Many persons are willing to pay any
     charge made, rather than expose their necessities by
     appearing before a Magistrate, and acknowledging they have
     been concerned in such transactions.

     Persons who are in the constant habit of pawning are
     generally known by the Pawnbrokers, in most instances
     governed by their will, and compelled to take and pay just
     what they please. Again, much injury arises from the want of
     care in the Pawnbroker to require a proper account, from the
     Pledgers, of the manner in which the goods offered have been
     obtained, as duplicates are commonly given upon fictitious
     names and residences.

     Notwithstanding the care and attention usually paid to the
     examination of the articles received as pledges, these
     gentlemen are sometimes to be duped by their customers. We
     remember an instance of an elderly man, who was in the habit
     of bringing a Dutch clock frequently to a Pawnbroker to
     raise the wind, and for safety, generally left it in a large
     canvass bag, till he became so regular a customer, that his
     clock and bag were often left without inspection; and as it
     was seldom deposited for long together, it was placed in
     some handy nook of the shop in order to lie ready for
     redemption. This system having been carried on for some
     time, no suspicion was entertained of the old man. Upon one
     occasion however the Pawnbroker's olfactory nerves were
     saluted with a smell of a most unsavoury nature, for which
     he could by no means account&mdash;day after day passed, and no
     discovery was made, till at length he determined to overhaul
     every article in his shop, and if possible discover the
     source of a nuisance which appeared rather to increase than
     abate: in doing which, to his utter astonishment, he found
     the old man's Dutch clock trans-formed into a sheep's head,
     enclosed in a small box similar in shape and size to that of
     the clock. It will scarcely be necessary to add, that, being
     in the heat of summer, the sheep's head when turned out was
     in a putrid state, and as green as grass. The Pawn-broker
     declared the old gentleman's works were out of repair, that
     he himself was out of tune, and eventually pledged himself
     never to be so taken in again. After all, however, it must
     be acknowledged that my Uncle is a very accommodating man.

          "My Uncle's the man, I've oft said it before,
          Who is ready and willing to open his door;
          Tho' some on the question may harbour a doubt,
          He's a mill to grind money, which I call a spout.
          Derry down.

          He has three golden balls which hang over his door,
          Which clearly denote that my Uncle's not poor;
          He has money to lend, and he's always so kind,
          He will lend it to such as leave something behind.
          Derry down.

          If to music inclin'd, there's no man can so soon
          Set the hooks of your gamut to excellent tune;
          All his tickets are prizes most carefully book'd,
          And your notes must be good, or you're presently hook'd.
          Derry down.

          Shirts, shoes, and flat-irons, hats, towels, and ruffs,
          To him are the same as rich satins or stuffs;
          From the pillows you lay on, chairs, tables, or sacks,
          He'll take all you have, to the togs on your backs.
          Derry down.

          Then ye who are needy, repair to your friend,
          Who is ready and willing your fortunes to mend;
          He's a purse full of rhino, and that's quite enough,
          Tho' short in his speech, he can shell out short stuff.
          Derry down.

          What a blessing it is, in this place of renown
          To know that we have such an Uncle in town;
          In all cases, degrees, in all places and stations,
          'Tis a good thing to know we've such friendly relations.
          Derry down.
</pre>
    <p>
      "Surely," said Tallyho, "no person could possibly be inveigled by her
      charms?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[369]</span> "They are not very blooming just now,"
      answered his Cousin&mdash;"you do not see her in a right light. It is
      impossible to contemplate the cases of these poor creatures without
      dropping a tear of pity. Originally seduced from a state of innocence, and
      eventually abandoned by their seducers, as well as their well-disposed
      parents or friends, they are left at an early age at large upon the world;
      loathed and avoided by those who formerly held them in estimation, what
      are they to do?&mdash;It is said by Shakespeare, that
    </p>
    <p>
      "Sin will pluck on sin."
    </p>
    <p>
      They seem to have no alternative, but that of continuing in the practice
      which they once too fatally begun, in which the major part of them end a
      short life of debauchery and wretchedness.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Exposed to the rude insults of the inebriated and the vulgar&mdash;the
      impositions of brutal officers and watchmen&mdash;to the chilling blasts
      of the night during the most inclement weather, in thin apparel, partly in
      compliance with the fashion of the day, but more frequently from the
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[370]</span> Pawnbroker's shop rendering their
      necessary garments inaccessible, diseases (where their unhappy vocation
      does not produce them) are thus generated.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Many are the gradations from the highest degree of prostitution down to
      the trulls that parade the streets by day, and one or two more steps still
      include those who keep out all night. Some of the miserable inhabitants of
      this quarter are night-birds, who seldom leave their beds during the day,
      except to refresh themselves with a drop of Old Tom; but as the evening
      approaches, their business commences, when you will see them decked out
      like fine ladies, for there are <i>coves of cases</i>,{1} and others in
      the vicinity of the Theatres, who live by letting out dresses for the
      evening, where they may be accommodated from a camesa{2} to a richly
      embroidered full-dress court suit, under the care of spies, who are upon
      the look-out that they don't brush off with the stock. Others, again, are
      boarded and lodged by the owners of houses of ill-fame, kept as dirty and
      as ragged as beggars all day, but who,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dress'd out at night, cut a figure."
    </p>
    <p>
      It however not unfrequently happens to those unhappy Girls who have not
      been successful in their pursuits, and do not bring home with them the
      wages of their prostitution, that they are sent to bed without supper, and
      sometimes get a good beating into the bargain; besides which, the Mistress
      of the house takes care to search them immediately after they are left by
      their gallants, by which means they are deprived of every shilling."
    </p>
    <p>
      Approaching the City, they espied a crowd of persons assembled together
      round the door of Money the perfumer. Upon inquiring, a species of
      depreciation was exposed, which had not yet come under their view.
    </p>
    <p>
      It appeared that a note, purporting to come from a gentleman at the
      Tavistock Hotel, desiring Mr. Money to wait on him to take measure of his
      cranium for a fashionable peruke, had drawn him from home, and that during
      his absence, a lad, in breathless haste, as if dispatched by the
      principal, entered the shop, stating that Sir. Money wanted a wig which
      was in the window, with some combs and hair-brushes, for the Gentleman's
      inspection, and also a pot of his Circassian cream. The bait took, the
      articles
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Coves of cases&mdash;Keepers of houses of ill fame.

     2 Camesa&mdash;A shirt or shift.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[371]</span> were packed up, and the wily cheat had
      made good his retreat before the return of the coiffeur, who was not
      pleased with being seduced from his home by a hoaxing letter, and less
      satisfied to find that his property was diminished in his absence by the
      successful artifices of a designing villain. This tale having got wind in
      the neighbourhood, persons were flocking round him to advise as to the
      mode of pursuit, and many were entertaining each other by relations of a
      similar nature; but our heroes having their friend Merrywell in view (or
      rather his interest) made the best of their way to the Lock-up-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link22HCH0007" id="link22HCH0007">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXIII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The world its trite opinion holds of those
          That in a world apart these bars enclose;
          And thus methinks some sage, whose wisdom frames
          Old saws anew, complacently exclaims,
          Debt is like death&mdash;it levels all degrees;
          Their prey with death's fell grasp the bailiffs seize."
</pre>
    <p>
      ON entering the Lock-up House, Bob felt a few uneasy sensations at hearing
      the key turned. The leary Bum-trap ushered the Gemmen up stairs, while
      Tallyho was endeavouring to compose his agitated spirits, and reconcile
      himself to the prospect before him, which, at the moment, was not of the
      most cheering nature.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What, my gay fellow," said Merry well, "glad to see you&mdash;was just
      going to scribble a line to inform you of my disaster. Zounds! you look as
      melancholy as the first line of an humble petition, or the author of a new
      piece the day after its damnation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In truth," replied Bob, "this is no place to inspire a man with high
      spirits."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That's as it may be," rejoined Merry well; "a man with money in his
      pocket may see as much Real Life in London within these walls as those who
      ramble at large through the mazes of what is termed liberty."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But," continued Tom, "it must be admitted that the views are more
      limited."
    </p>
    <p>
      "By no means," was the reply. "Here a man is at perfect liberty to
      contemplate and cogitate without fear of being agitated. Here he may trace
      over past recollections, and enjoy future anticipations free from the
      noise and bustle of crowded streets, or the fatigue of attending
      fashionable routs, balls, and assemblies. Besides which, it forms so
      important a part of Life in London, that few without a residence in a
      place of this kind can imagine its utility. It invigorates genius,
      concentrates ingenuity, and stimulates invention."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[373]</span> "Hey dey!" said Tallyho, looking out of
      the window, and perceiving a dashing tandem draw up to the door&mdash;"who
      have we here? some high company, no doubt."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, you are right; that man in the great coat, who manages his cattle
      with such dexterity, is no other than the king of the castle. He is the
      major domo, or, in other words, the Bailiff himself. That short,
      stout-looking man in boots and buckskins, is his assistant, vulgarly
      called his Bum.{1} The other is a Gentleman desirous of lodging in a
      genteel neighbourhood, and is recommended by them to take up his residence
      here."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What," inquired Bob, "do Bailiffs drive gigs and tandems?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "To be sure they do," was the reply; "formerly they were low-bred fellows,
      who would undertake any dirty business for a maintenance, as you will see
      them represented in the old prints and caricatures, muffled up in Îreat
      coats, and carrying bludgeons; but, in present Real life, you will find
      them quite the reverse, unless they find it necessary to assume a disguise
      in order to nibble a queer cove who proves shy of their company'; but
      among Gentlemen, none are so stylish, and at the same time so
      accommodating&mdash;you are served with the process in a private and
      elegant way, and if not convenient to come to an immediate arrangement, a
      gig is ready in the highest taste, to convey you from your habitation to
      your place of retirement, and you may pass through the most crowded
      streets of the city, and recognise your friends, without fear of
      suspicion. Upon some occasions, they will also carry their politeness so
      far as to inform an individual he will be wanted on such a day, and must
      come&mdash;a circumstance which has the effect of preventing any person
      from knowing the period of departure, or the place of destination;
      consequently, the arrested party is gone out of town for a few days, and
      the matter all blows over without any injury sustained. This is the third
      time since I have been in the house that the tandem has started from the
      door, and returned with a new importation."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time, the gig having been discharged of its cargo, was reascended
      by the Master and his man, and bowl'd off again in gay style for the
      further accommodation of fashionable friends, whose society was in such
      high
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 See Bum-trap), page 166.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[374]</span> estimation, that no excuse or denial
      could avail, and who being so urgently wanted, must come.
    </p>
    <p>
      "'Tis a happy age we live in," said Merry well; "the improvements are
      evident enough; every thing is done with so much facility and gentility,
      that even the race of bailiffs are transformed from frightful and
      ferocious-looking persons to the most dashing, polite and accommodating
      characters in the world. He however, like others, must have his assistant,
      and occasional substitute.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A man in this happy era is really of no use whatever to himself. It is a
      principle on which every body, that is any body, acts, that no one should
      do any thing for himself, if he can procure another to do it for him.
      Accordingly, there is hardly the most simple performance in nature for the
      more easy execution of which an operator or machine of some kind' or other
      is not employed or invented; and a man who has had the misfortune to lose,
      or chuses not to use any of his limbs or senses, may meet with people
      ready to perform all their functions for him, from paring his nails and
      cutting his corns, to forming an opinion. No man cleans his own teeth who
      can afford to pay a dentist; and hundreds get their livelihood by shaving
      the chins and combing the hair of their neighbours, though many, it must
      be admitted, comb their neighbour's locks for nothing. The powers of man
      and the elements of nature even are set aside, the use of limbs and air
      being both superseded by steam; in short, every thing is done by proxy&mdash;death
      not excepted, for we are told that our soldiers and sailors die for us.
      Marriage in certain ranks is on this footing. A prince marries by proxy,
      and sometimes lives for ever after as if he thought all the obligations of
      wedlock were to be performed in a similar manner. A nobleman, it is true,
      will here take the trouble to officiate in the first instance in person;
      but there are plenty of cases to shew that nothing is further from his
      noble mind than the idea of continuing his slavery, while others can be
      found to take the labour off his hands. So numerous are the royal roads to
      every desideratum, and so averse is every true gentleman from doing any
      thing for himself, that it is to be dreaded lest it should grow impolite
      to chew one's own victuals; and we are aware that there are great numbers
      who, not getting their share of Heaven's provision, may be said to submit
      to have their food eat for them."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[375]</span> Tallyho laugh'd, and Dashall signified
      his assent to the whimsical observations of Merrywell, by a shrug of the
      shoulders and an approving smile.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Apropos," said Merrywell&mdash;"what is the news of our friend Sparkle?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "O, (replied Tom) he is for trying a chance in the Lottery of Life, and
      has perhaps by this time gained the prize of Matrimony:{1} but what part
      of the globe he inhabits it is impossible for me to say&mdash;however, he
      is with Miss Mortimer probably on the road to Gretna."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Success to his enterprise," continued Merrywell; "and if they are
      destined to travel through life together, may they have thumping luck and
      pretty children. Marriage to some is a bitter cup of continued misery&mdash;may
      the reverse be his lot."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Amen," responded Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the way," said Merrywell, "I hope you will favour me with your company
      for the afternoon, and I doubt not we shall start some game within these
      walls well worthy of pursuit; and as I intend to remove to more commodious
      apartments within a day or two, I shall certainly expect to have a visit
      from you during my abode in the county of Surrey."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Going to College?" inquired Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes; I am off upon a sporting excursion for a month or two, and I have an
      idea of making it yield both pleasure and profit. An occasional residence
      in Abbot's Park is one of the necessary measures for the completion of a
      Real Life in London education. It is a fashionable retreat absolutely
      necessary, and therefore I have voluntarily determined upon it. What rare
      advice a young man may pick up in the precincts of the Fleet and
    </p>
    <p>
      1 It has often been said figuratively, that marriage is a lottery; but we
      do not recollect to have met with a practical illustration of the truth of
      the simile before the following, which is a free translation of an
      Advertisement in the Louisiana Gazette:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "A young man of good figure and disposition, unable though
     "desirous to procure a Wife without the preliminary trouble of
     "amassing a fortune, proposes the following expedient to obtain the
     "object of his wishes:&mdash;He offers himself as the prize of a Lottery
     "to all Widows and Virgins under 32: the number of tickets to be
     "600 at 50 dollars each; but one number to be drawn from the
     "wheel, the fortunate proprietor of which is to be entitled to
     "himself and the 30,000 dollars."&mdash;New York, America.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[376]</span> the King's Bench! He may soon learn the
      art of sharp-shooting and skirmishing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And pray," says Tallyho, "what do you term skirmishing?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I will tell you," was the reply. "When you have got as deeply in debt
      every where as you can, you may still remain on the town as a Sunday-man
      for a brace of years, and with good management perhaps longer. Next you
      may toddle off to Scotland for another twelvemonth, and live in the
      sanctuary of Holyrood House, after seeing the North, where writs will not
      arrive in time to touch you. When tired of this, and in debt even in the
      sanctuary, and when you have worn out all your friends by borrowing of
      them to support you in style there, you can brush off on a Sunday to the
      Isle of Man, where you are sure to meet a parcel of blades who will be
      glad of your company if you are but a pleasant fellow. Here you may live
      awhile upon them, and get in debt (if you can, for the Manx-men have very
      little faith,) in the Island. From this, you must lastly effect your
      escape in an open boat, and make your appearance in London as a new face.
      Here you will find some flats of your acquaintance very glad to see you,
      even if you are indebted to them, from the pleasures of recollection
      accruing from past scenes of jollity and merriment. You must be sure to
      amuse them with a good tale of a law-suit, or the declining health of a
      rich old Uncle, from either of which you are certain of deriving a second
      fortune. Now manage to get arrested, and you will find some, who believe
      your story, ready to bail you. You can then put off these actions for two
      years more, and afterwards make a virtue of surrendering yourself in order
      to relieve your friends, who of course will begin to be alarmed, and feel
      so grateful for this supposed mark of propriety, that they will support
      you for a while in prison, until you get white-washed. In all this
      experience, and with such a long list of acquaintances, it will be hard if
      some will not give you a lift at getting over your difficulties. Then you
      start again as a nominal Land-surveyor, Money-scrivener, Horse-dealer, or
      as a Sleeping-partner in some mercantile concern&mdash;such, for instance,
      as coals, wine, &amp;c. Your popularity and extensive acquaintance will
      get your Partner a number of customers, and then if you don't succeed, you
      have only to become a Bankrupt, secure your certificate, and start free
      again in some other line. Then <span class="pagenum">[377]</span> there
      are other good chances, for a man may marry once or twice. Old or sickly
      women are best suited for the purpose, and their fortunes will help you
      for a year or two at least, if only a thousand or two pounds. Lastly, make
      up a purse» laugh at the flats, and finish on the Continent."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very animated description indeed," cried Dashall, "and salutary advice,
      truly."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Too good to be lost," continued Merrywell.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And yet rather too frequently acted on, it is to be feared."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Probably so&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "But mark me, this is fancy's sketch," and may perhaps appear a little too
      highly coloured; but if you remain with me, we will clip deeper into the
      reality of the subject by a little information from the official personage
      himself, who holds dominion over these premises; and we may perhaps also
      find some agreeable and intelligent company in his house."
    </p>
    <p>
      This proposition being agreed to, and directions given accordingly by
      Merrywell to prepare dinner, our party gave loose to opinions of life,
      observations on men and mariners, exactly as they presented themselves to
      the imagination of each speaker, and Merrywell evidently proved himself a
      close observer of character.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Places like this," said he, "are generally inhabited by the profligate of
      fashion, the ingenious artist, or the plodding mechanic. The first is one
      who cares not who suffers, so he obtains a discharge from his
      incumberances: having figured away for some time in the labyrinths of
      folly and extravagance, till finding the needful run taper, he yields to
      John Doe and Richard Roe as a matter of course, passes through his degrees
      in the study of the laws by retiring to the Fleet or King's Bench, and
      returns to the world with a clean face, and an increased stock of
      information to continue his career. The second are men who have heads to
      contrive and hands to execute improvements in scientific pursuits,
      probably exhausting their time, their health, and their property, in the
      completion of their projects, but who are impeded in their progress, and
      compelled to finish their intentions in durance vile, by the rapacity of
      their creditors. And the last are persons subjected to all the casualties
      of trade and the arts of the former, and unable to meet the peremptory
      demands of <span class="pagenum">[378]</span> those they are indebted to;
      but they seldom inhabit these places long, unless they can pay well for
      their accommodations. Money is therefore as useful in a lock-up-house or a
      prison as in any other situation of life.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Money, with the generality of people, is every thing; it is the universal
      Talisman; there is magic in its very name. It ameliorates all the
      miserable circumstances of life, and the sound of it may almost be termed
      life itself. It is the balm, the comfort, and the restorative. It must
      indeed be truly mortifying to the opulent, to observe that the attachment
      of their dependents, and even the apparent esteem of their friends, arises
      from the respect paid to riches. The vulgar herd bow with reverence and
      respect before the wealthy; but it is in fact the money, and not the
      individual, which they worship. Doubtless, a philosophic Tallow-chandler
      would hasten from the contemplation of the starry heavens to vend a
      farthing rushlight; and it therefore cannot be wondered at that the
      Sheriffs-officer, who serves you with a writ because you have not money
      enough to discharge the just demands against you, should determine at
      least to get as much as he can out of you, and, when he finds your
      resources exhausted, that he should remove you to the common receptacle of
      debtors; which however cannot be done to your own satisfaction without
      some money; for if you wish a particular place of residence, or the most
      trifling accommodation, there are fees to pay, even on entering a prison."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In that case then," said Tallyho, "a man is actually obliged to pay for
      going to a prison."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Precisely so, unless he is willing to mingle with the very lowest order
      of society. But come, we will walk into the Coffee-room, and take a view
      of the inmates."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon entering this, which was a small dark room, they heard a great number
      of voices, and in one corner found several of the prisoners surrounding a
      Bagatelle-board, and playing for porter, ale, &amp;c; in another corner
      was a young man in close conversation with an Attorney; and a little
      further distant, was a hard-featured man taking instructions from the
      Turnkey how to act. Here was a poor Player, who declared he would take the
      benefit of the Act, and afterwards take a benefit at the Theatre to
      reestablish himself. There a Poet racking his imagination, and roving
      amidst the flowers of fancy, giving a few touches by way of finish to an
      Ode to Liberty, with the <span class="pagenum">[379]</span> produce of
      which he indulged himself in a hope of obtaining the subject of his Muse.
      The conversation was of a mingled nature. The vociferations of the
      Bagatelle-players&mdash;the whispers of the Attorney and his Client&mdash;and
      the declarations of the prisoner to the Turnkey, "That he would be d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d
      if he did not sarve 'em out, and floor the whole boiling of them," were
      now and then interrupted by the notes of a violin playing the most lively
      airs in an animated and tasteful style. The Performer however was not
      visible, but appeared to be so near, that Merrywell, who was a great lover
      of music, beckoned his friends to follow him. They now entered a small
      yard at the back of the house, the usual promenade of those who resided in
      it, and found the Musician seated on one of the benches, which were
      continued nearly round the yard, and which of itself formed a panorama of
      rural scenery. Here was the bubbling cascade and the lofty fountain&mdash;there
      the shady grove of majestic poplars, and the meandering stream glittering
      in the resplendent lustre of a rising sun. The waving foliage however and
      the bubbling fountain were not to be seen or heard, (as these beauties
      were only to be contemplated in the labours of the painter;) but to make
      up for the absence of these with the harmony of the birds and the
      ripplings of the stream, the Musician was endeavouring, like an Arcadian
      shepherd with his pipe, to make the woods resound with the notes of his
      fiddle, surrounded by some of his fellow-prisoners, who did not fail to
      applaud his skill and reward his kindness, by supplying him with rosin, as
      they termed it, which was by handing him the heavy-wet as often as they
      found his elbow at rest. In one place was to be seen a Butcher, who upon
      his capture was visited by his wife with a child in her arms, upon whom
      the melody seemed to have no effect. She was an interesting and
      delicate-looking woman, whose agitation of spirits upon so melancholy an
      occasion were evidenced by streaming tears from a pair of lovely dark
      eyes; and the Butcher, as evidently forgetful of his usual calling, was
      sympathising with, and endeavouring to soothe her into composure, and
      fondling the child. In another, a person who had the appearance of an
      Half-pay Officer, with Hessian boots, blue pantaloons, and a black silk
      handkerchief, sat with his arms folded almost without taking notice of
      what was passing around him, though a rough Sailor with a pipe in his
      mouth occasionally <span class="pagenum">[380]</span> enlivened the scene
      by accompanying the notes of the Musician with a characteristic dance,
      which he termed a Horn-spike.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was a fine scene of Real Life, and after taking a few turns in the
      gardens of the Lock-up or Sponging-house, they returned to Merrywell's
      apartments, which they had scarcely entered, when the tandem drew up to
      the door.
    </p>
    <p>
      "More company," said Merry well.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And perhaps the more the merrier," replied Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That is as it may prove," was the reply; "for the company of this house
      ace as various at times as can be met with in any other situation.
      However, this appears to wear the form of one of our fashionable,
      high-life Gentlemen; but appearances are often deceitful, we shall perhaps
      hear more of him presently&mdash;he may turn out to be one of the
      prodigals who calculate the duration of life at about ten years, that is,
      to have a short life and a merry one."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That seems to me to be rather a short career, too," exclaimed Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay, nay, that is a long calculation, for it frequently cannot be made to
      last half the number. In the first place, the Pupil learns every kind of
      extravagance, which he practises en maitre the two next years. These make
      an end of his fortune. He lives two more on credit, established while his
      property lasted. The next two years he has a letter of licence, and
      contrives to live by ways and means (for he has grown comparatively
      knowing.) Then he marries, and the wife has the honour of discharging his
      debts, her fortune proving just sufficient for the purpose. Then he
      manages to live a couple of years more on credit, and retires to one of
      his Majesty's prisons."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time Mr. Safebind made his appearance, and with great politeness
      inquired if the Gentlemen were accommodated in the way they wished? Upon
      being assured of this, and requested to take a seat, after some
      introductory conversation, he gave them the following account of himself
      and his business:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "We have brought nine Gemmen into the house this morning; and, though I
      say it, no Gemman goes out that would have any objection to come into it
      again."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho shrugg'd up his shoulders in a way that seemed to imply a doubt.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[381]</span> "For," continued he, "a Gemman that is
      a Gemman shall always find genteel treatment here. I always acts upon
      honour and secrecy; and if as how a Gemman can't bring his affairs into a
      comfortable shape here, why then he is convey'd away without exposure,
      that is, if he understands things."
    </p>
    <p>
      With assurances of this kind, the veracity of which no one present could
      doubt, they were entertained for some time by their loquacious Host, who,
      having the gift of the gab,{1} would probably have continued long in the
      same strain of important information; when dinner was placed on the table,
      and they fell to with good appetites, seeming almost to have made use of
      the customary grace among theatricals.{2}
    </p>
    <p>
      "The table cleared, the frequent glass goes round, And joke and song and
      merriment abound."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your house," said Dashall, "might well be termed the Temple of the Arts,
      since their real votaries are so frequently its inhabitants."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very true, Sir," said Safebind, "and as the Poet observes, it is as often
      graced by the presence of the devotees to the Sciences: in point of
      company he says we may almost call it multum in parvo, or the Camera
      Obscura of Life. There are at this time within these walls, a learned
      Alchymist, two Students in Anatomy, and a Physician&mdash;a Poet, a
      Player, and a Musician. The Player is an adept at mimicry, the Musician a
      good player, and the Poet no bad stick at a rhyme; all anxious to turn
      their talents to good account, and, when mingled together, productive of
      harmony, though the situation they are in at present is rather discordant
      to their feelings; but then you know 'tis said, that discord is the soul
      of harmony, and they knocked up a duet among themselves yesterday, which I
      thought highly amusing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am fond of music," said Merry well&mdash;"do you think they would take
      a glass of wine with us?"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Gift of the gab&mdash;Fluency of speech.

     2 It is a very common thing among the minor theatricals,
     when detained at rehearsals, &amp;c. to adjourn to some
     convenient room in the neighbourhood for refreshment, and
     equally common for them to commence operations in a truly
     dramatic way, by ex-claiming to each other in the language
     of Shakespeare,

          "Come on, Macbeth&mdash;come on, Macduff,
          And d&mdash;&mdash;-d be he who first cries&mdash;hold, enough."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[382]</span> "Most readily, no doubt," was the
      reply. "I will introduce them in a minute." Thus saying, he left the room,
      and in a very few minutes returned with the three votaries of Apollo, who
      soon joined in the conversation upon general subjects. The Player now
      discovered his loquacity; the Poet his sagacity; and the Musician his
      pertinacity, for he thought no tones so good as those produced by himself,
      nor no notes&mdash;we beg pardon, none but bank notes&mdash;equal to his
      own.
    </p>
    <p>
      It will be sufficient for our present purpose to add, that the bottle
      circulated 'quickly, and what with the songs of the Poet, the recitations
      of the Player, and the notes of the Fiddler, time, which perfects all
      intellectual ability, and also destroys the most stupendous monuments of
      art, brought the sons of Apollo under the table, and admonished Dashall
      and his Cousin to depart; which they accordingly did, after a promise to
      see their friend Merry well in his intended new quarters.<span
      class="pagenum">[383]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link22HCH0008" id="link22HCH0008">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXIV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "All nations boast some men of nobler mind,
          Their scholars, heroes, benefactors kind:
          And Britain has her share among the rest,
          Of men the wisest, boldest and the best:
          Yet we of knaves and fools have ample share,
          And eccentricities beyond compare.
          Full many a life is spent, and many a purse,
          In mighty nothings, or in something worse."
</pre>
    <p>
      THE next scene which Tom was anxious to introduce to his Cousin's notice
      was that of a Political Dinner; but while they were preparing for
      departure, a letter arrived which completely satisfied the mind of the
      Hon. Tom Dashall as to the motives and views of their friend Sparkle, and
      ran as follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dear Dashall,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Having rivetted the chains of matrimony on the religious anvil of Gretna
      Green, I am now one of the happiest fellows in existence. My election is
      crowned with success, and I venture to presume all after-petitions will be
      rejected as frivolous and vexatious. The once lovely Miss Mortimer is now
      the ever to be loved Mrs. Sparkle. I shall not now detain your attention
      by an account of our proceedings or adventures on the road: we shall have
      many more convenient opportunities of indulging in such details when we
      meet, replete as I can assure you they are with interest.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have written instructions to my agent in town for the immediate
      disposal of my paternal estate in Wiltshire, and mean hereafter to take up
      my abode on one I have recently purchased in the neighbourhood of Belville
      Hall, where I anticipate many pleasurable opportunities of seeing you and
      our friend Tallyho surrounding my hospitable and (hereafter) family board.
      We shall be there within a month, as we mean to reach our place of
      destination by easy stages, and look about us.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Please remember me to all old friends in Town, and believe as ever,
    </p>
    <p>
      Your's truly,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Charles Sparkle."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Carlisle."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[384 ]</span> The receipt of this letter and its
      contents were immediately communicated to young Mortimer, who had already
      received some intelligence of a similar nature, which had the effect of
      allaying apprehension and dismissing fear for his Sister's safety. The
      mysterious circumstances were at once explained, and harmony was restored
      to the previously agitated family.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am truly glad of this information," said Tom, "and as we are at present
      likely to be politically engaged, we cannot do less than take a bumper or
      two after dinner, to the health and happiness of the Candidate who so
      emphatically observes, he has gained his election, and, in the true
      language of every Patriot, declares he is the happiest man alive,
      notwithstanding the rivets by which he is bound."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are inclined to be severe," said Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "By no means," replied Dashall; "the language of the letter certainly
      seems a little in consonance with my observation, but I am sincere in my
      good wishes towards the writer and his amiable wife. Come, we must now
      take a view of other scenes, hear long speeches, drink repeated bumpers,
      and shout with lungs of leather till the air resounds with peals of
      approbation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We shall there see and hear the great men of the nation, Or at least who
      are such in their own estimation."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Great in the name a patriot father bore,
          Behold a youth of promise boldly soar,
          Outstrip his fellows, clamb'ring height extreme,
          And reach to eminence almost supreme.
          With well-worn mask, and virtue's fair pretence,
          And all the art of smooth-tongued eloquence,
          He talks of wise reform, of rights most dear,
          Till half the nation thinks the man sincere."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Hey day," said Tallyho, "who do you apply this to?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Those who find the cap fit may wear it," was the reply&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      I leave it wholly to the discriminating few who can discover what belongs
      to themselves, without further comment."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[385]</span> By this time they had arrived at the
      Crown and Anchor Tavern, in the Strand, where they found a great number of
      persons assembled, Sir F. B&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; having been announced as
      President. In a few minutes he was ushered into the room with all due pomp
      and ceremony, preceded by the Stewards for the occasion, and accompanied
      by a numerous body of friends, consisting of Mr. H&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;,
      Major C&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;, and others, though not equally prominent,
      equally zealous. During dinner time all went on smoothly, except in some
      instances, where the voracity of some of the visitors almost occasioned a
      chopping off the fingers of their neighbours; but the cloth once removed,
      and 'Non nobis Domine' sung by professional Gentlemen, had the effect of
      calling the attention of the company to harmony. The Band in the orchestra
      played, 'O give me Death or Liberty'&mdash;'Erin go brach'&mdash;'Britons
      strike home'&mdash;and 'Whilst happy in my native Land.' The Singers
      introduced 'Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled'&mdash;'Peruvians wake to
      Glory'&mdash;and the 'Tyrolese Hymn.' But the spirit of oratory, enlivened
      by the fire of the bottle, exhibited its illuminating sparks in a blaze of
      lustre which eclipsed even the gas lights by which they were surrounded;
      so much so, that the Waiters themselves became confused, and remained
      stationary, or, when they moved, were so dazzled by the patriotic
      effusions of the various Speakers, that they fell over each other, spilt
      the wine in the pockets of the company, and, by making afterwards a hasty
      retreat, left them to fight or argue between each other for supposed
      liberties taken even by their immediate friends.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2image-0003" id="link2image-0003">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page385.jpg" alt="Page385 Political Dinner " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      Unbridled feelings of patriotic ardour appeared to pervade every one
      present; and what with the splendid oratory of the speakers, and the
      deafening vociferations of the hearers, at the conclusion of what was
      generally considered a good point, a sufficient indication of the feelings
      by which they were all animated was evinced.
    </p>
    <p>
      At the lower end of the table sat a facetious clerical Gentleman, who,
      unmindful of his ministerial duties, was loud in his condemnation of
      ministers, and as loud in his approbation of those who gave them what he
      repeatedly called a good hit. But here a subject of great laughter
      occurred; for Mr. Marrowfat, the Pea-merchant of Covent-Garden, and Mr.
      Barrowbed, the Feathermonger of Drury Lane, in their zeal for the good
      cause, arising at the same moment, big with ardour and sentiment, to
      address the <span class="pagenum">[386]</span> Chair on a subject of the
      most momentous importance in their consideration, and desirous to
      signalize themselves individually, so completely defeated their objects by
      over anxiety to gain precedence, that they rolled over each other on the
      floor, to the inexpressible amusement of the company, and the total
      obliteration of their intended observations; so much so, that the harangue
      meant to enlighten their friends, ended in a fine colloquy of abuse upon
      each other.
    </p>
    <p>
      The bottles, the glasses, and the other paraphernalia of the table
      suffered considerable diminution in the descent of these modern Ciceros,
      and a variety of speakers arising upon their downfall, created so much
      confusion, that our Heroes, fearing it would be some time before harmony
      could be restored, took up their hats and walked.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said Dashall, as they left the house, "you have had a full view of
      the pleasantries of a Political Dinner; and having seen the characters by
      which such an entertainment is generally attended, any further account of
      them is almost rendered useless."
    </p>
    <p>
      "At least," replied Tallyho, "I have been gratified by the view of some of
      the leading men who contribute to fill up the columns of your London
      Newspapers."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad!" said his Cousin, "now I think of it, there is a tine opportunity
      of amusing ourselves for the remainder of the evening by a peep at another
      certain house in Westminster: whether it may be assimilated, in point of
      character or contents, to what we have just witnessed, I shall leave you,
      after taking a review, to determine."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What do you mean?" inquired Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Charley's, my boy, that's the place for sport, something in the old
      style. The Professors there are all of the ancient school, and we shall
      just be in time for the first Lecture. It is a school of science, and
      though established upon the ancient construction, is highly suitable to
      the taste of the moderns."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds!" replied Bob, "our heads are hardly in cue for philosophy after
      so much wine and noise; we had better defer it to another opportunity."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay, nay, now's the very time for it&mdash;it will revive the
      recollection of some of your former sports;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          For, midst our luxuries be it understood,
          Some traits remain of rugged hardihood."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[387]</span> Charley is a good caterer for the
      public appetite, and, to diversify the amusements of a Life in London, we
      will have a little chaff among the Bear-baiters."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tally-ho stared for a moment; then burst into laughter at the curious
      introduction his Cousin had given to this subject. "I have long perceived
      your talent for embellishment, but certainly was not prepared for the
      conclusion; but you ought rather to have denominated them Students in
      Natural History."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And what is that but a branch of Philosophy?" inquired Dashall. "However,
      we are discussing points of opinion rather than hastening to the scene of
      action to become judges of facts&mdash;Allons."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon saying this, they moved forward with increased celerity towards
      Tothill-fields, and soon reached their proposed place of destination.
    </p>
    <p>
      On entering, Tallyho was reminded by his Cousin to button up his toggery,
      keep his ogles in action, and be awake. "For," said he, "you will here
      have to mingle with some of the queer Gills and rum Covies of all ranks."
    </p>
    <p>
      This advice being taken, they soon found themselves in this temple of
      torment, where Bob surveyed a motly group assembled, and at that moment
      engaged in the sports of the evening. The generality of the company bore
      the appearance of Butchers, Dog-fanciers and Ruffians, intermingled here
      and there with a few Sprigs of Fashion, a few Corinthian Sicells,
      Coster-mongers, Coal-heavers, Watermen, Soldiers, and Livery-servants.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2image-0004" id="link2image-0004">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page387.jpg" alt="Page387 the Country Squire "
      width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      The bear was just then pinn'd by a dog belonging to a real lover of the
      game, who, with his shirt-sleeves tuck'd up, declared he was a d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d
      good one, and nothing but a good one, so help him G&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d.
      This dog, at the hazard of his life, had seized poor Bruin by the under
      lip, who sent forth a tremendous howl indicative of his sufferings, and
      was endeavouring to give him a fraternal hug; many other dogs were barking
      aloud with anxiety to take an active share in the amusement, while the
      bear, who was chained by the neck to a staple in the wall, and compelled
      to keep an almost erect posture, shook his antagonist with all the fury of
      madness produced by excessive torture. In the mean time bets were made and
      watches pull'd forth, to decide how long the bow-wow would bother the
      ragged Russian. The Dog-breeders were chaffing each other upon the value
      of their canine property, each holding his <span class="pagenum">[388]</span>
      brother-puppy between his legs, till a fair opportunity for a let-loose
      offered, and many wagers were won and lost in a short space of time. Bob
      remained a silent spectator; while his Cousin, who was better up to the
      gossip, mixt with the hard-featured sportsmen, inquired the names of their
      dogs, what prices were fix'd upon, when they had fought last, and other
      questions equally important to amateurs.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bruin got rid of his customers in succession as they came up to him, and
      when they had once made a seizure, it was generally by a hug which almost
      deprived them of life, at least it took from them the power of continuing
      their hold; but his release from one was only the signal for attack from
      another.
    </p>
    <p>
      While this exhibition continued, Tom could not help calling his Cousin's
      attention to an almost bald-headed man, who occupied a front seat, and sat
      with his dog, which was something of the bull breed, between his legs,
      while the paws of the animal rested on the top rail, and which forcibly
      brought to his recollection the well-known anecdote of Garrick and the
      Butcher's dog with his master's wig on, while the greasy carcass-dealer
      was wiping the perspiration from his uncovered pericranium.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob, who had seen a badger-bait, and occasionally at fairs in the country
      a dancing bear, had never before seen a bear-bait, stood up most of the
      time, observing those around him, and paying attention to their
      proceedings while entertaining sentiments somewhat similar to the
      following lines:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "What boisterous shouts, what blasphemies obscene,
          What eager movements urge each threatening mien!
          Present the spectacle of human kind,
          Devoid of feeling&mdash;destitute of mind;
          With ev'ry dreadful passion rous'd to flame,
          All sense of justice lost and sense of shame."
</pre>
    <p>
      When Charley the proprietor thought his bear was sufficiently exercised
      for the night, he was led to his den, lacerated and almost lamed, to
      recover of his wounds, with an intention that he should "fight his battles
      o'er again." Meanwhile Tom and Bob walk'd homeward.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next day having been appointed for the coronation of our most gracious
      Sovereign, our friends were off at an early hour in the morning, to secure
      their seats in <span class="pagenum">[389]</span> Westminster Hall; and on
      their way they met the carriage of our disappointed and now much lamented
      Queen, her endeavours to obtain admission to the Abbey having proved
      fruitless.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Oh that the Monarch had as firmly stood
          In all his acts to serve the public good,
          As in that moment of heartfelt joy
          That firmness acted only to destroy
          A nation's hope&mdash;to every heart allied,
          Who lived in sorrow, and lamented died!"
</pre>
    <p>
      It was a painful circumstance to Dashall, who was seldom severe in his
      judgments, or harsh in his censures. He regretted its occurrence, and it
      operated in some degree to rob a splendid ceremony of its magnificence,
      and to sever from royalty half its dignity.
    </p>
    <p>
      The preparations however were arranged upon a scale of grandeur suited to
      the occasion. The exterior of Westminster Hall and Abbey presented a most
      interesting appearance. Commodious seats were erected for the
      accommodation of spectators to view the procession in its moving order,
      and were thronged with thousands of anxious subjects to greet their
      Sovereign with demonstrations of loyalty and love.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was certainly a proud day of national festivity. The firing of guns and
      the ringing of bells announced the progress of the Coronation in its
      various stages to completion; and in the evening Hyde Park was brilliantly
      and tastefully illuminated, and an extensive range of excellent fireworks
      were discharged under the direction of Sir William Congreve. We must
      however confine ourselves to that which came under the view of the Hon.
      Tom Dashall and his Cousin, who, being seated in the Hall, had a fine
      opportunity of witnessing the banquet, and the challenge of the Champion.
    </p>
    <p>
      A flooring of wood had been laid down in the Hall at an elevation of
      fourteen inches above the flags. Three tiers of galleries were erected on
      each side, covered with a rich and profuse scarlet drapery falling from a
      cornice formed of a double row of gold-twisted rope, and ornamented with a
      succession of magnificent gold pelmets and rosettes. The front of the door
      which entered from the passage without, was covered with a curtain of
      scarlet, trimmed with deep gold fringe, and looped up on each side with
      <span class="pagenum">[390]</span> silken ropes. The floor, and to the
      extremity of the first three steps of the Throne, was covered with a
      splendid Persian-pattern Wilton carpet, and the remainder of the steps
      with scarlet baize.
    </p>
    <p>
      The canopy of the throne, which was square, was surrounded by a beautiful
      carved and gilt cornice, prepared by Mr. Evans. Beneath the cornice hung a
      succession of crimson-velvet pelmet drapery, each pelmet having
      embroidered upon it a rose, a thistle, a crown, or a harp. Surmounting the
      cornice in front was a gilt crown upon a velvet cushion, over the letters
      "Geo. IV." supported on each side by an antique gilt ornament. The entire
      back of the throne, as well as the interior of the canopy, were covered
      with crimson Genoa velvet, which was relieved by a treble row of broad and
      narrow gold lace which surrounded the whole. In the centre of the back
      were the royal arms, the lion and the unicorn rampant, embroidered in the
      most costly style. Under this stood the chair of state, and near the
      throne were six splendid chairs placed for the other members of the royal
      family. These decorations, and the Hall being splendidly illuminated,
      presented to the eye a spectacle of the most imposing nature, heightened
      by the brilliant assemblage of elegantly dressed personages. The Ladies
      universally wore ostrich feathers, and the Gentlemen were attired in the
      most sumptuous dresses.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2image-0005" id="link2image-0005">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page390.jpg" alt="Page390 Grand Coronation Dinner "
      width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      About four o'clock, his Majesty having gone through the other fatiguing
      ceremonies of the day, entered the Hall with the crown upon his head, and
      was greeted with shouts of "Long live the King!" from all quarters;
      shortly after which, the banquet was served by the necessary officers. But
      that part of the ceremony which most attracted the attention of Tallyho,
      was the challenge of the Champion, whose entrance was announced by the
      sound of the trumpets thrice; and who having proceeded on a beautiful
      horse in a full suit of armour, under the porch of a triumphal arch,
      attended by the Duke of Wellington on his right, and the Deputy Earl
      Marshal on his left, to the place assigned him, the challenge was read
      aloud by the Herald: he then threw down his gauntlet, which having lain a
      short time, was returned to him. This ceremony was repeated three times;
      when he drank to his Majesty, and received the gold cup and cover as his
      fee.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[391]</span> The whole of this magnificent national
      pageant was conducted throughout with the most scrupulous attention to the
      customary etiquette of such occasions; and Tallyho, who had never
      witnessed any thing of the kind before, and consequently could have no
      conception of its splendour, was at various parts of the ceremony
      enraptured; he fancied himself in Fairy-land, and that every thing he saw
      and heard was the effect of enchantment. Our friends returned home highly
      gratified with their day's amusement.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link22HCH0009" id="link22HCH0009">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Behold the Ring! how strange the group appears
          Of dirty blackguards, commoners and peers;
          Jews, who regard not Moses nor his laws,
          All ranks of Christians eager in the cause.
          What eager bets&mdash;what oaths at every breath,
          Who first shall shrink, or first be beat to death.
          Thick fall the blows, and oft the boxers fall,
          While deaf'ning shouts for fresh exertions call;
          Till, bruised and blinded, batter'd sore and maim'd,
          One gives up vanquish'd, and the other lam'd.
          Say, men of wealth! say what applause is due
          For scenes like these, when patronised by you?
          These are your scholars, who in humbler way,
          But with less malice, at destruction play.
          You, like game cocks, strike death with polish'd steel;
          They, dung-hill-bred, use only nature's heel;
          They fight for something&mdash;you for nothing fight;
          They box for love, but you destroy in spite."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[392 ]</span> THE following Tuesday having been
      appointed by the knowing ones for a pugilistic encounter between Jack
      Randall, commonly called the Nonpareil, and Martin, as well known by the
      appellation of The Master of the Rolls, from his profession being that of
      a baker; an excellent day's sport was anticipated, and the lads of the
      fancy were all upon the "<i>qui vive</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      Our friends had consequently arranged, on the previous night, to breakfast
      at an early hour, and take a gentle ride along the road, with a
      determination to see as much as possible of the attractive amusements of a
      milling-match, and to take a view as they went along of the company they
      were afterwards to mingle with.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We shall now," said Dashall (as they sat down to breakfast) "have a peep
      at the lads of the ring, and see a little of the real science of Boxing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "We have been boxing the compass through the difficult straits of a London
      life for some time," replied Bob, "and I begin to think that, with all its
      variety, its gaiety, and
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[393]</span> its pride, the most legitimate joys of
      life may fairly be said to exist in the country."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess," said Dashall, "that most of the pleasures of life are
      comparative, and arise from contrast. Thus the bustle of London heightens
      the serenity of the country, while again the monotony of the country gives
      additional zest to the ever-varying scenes of London. But why this
      observation at a moment when we are in pursuit of fresh game?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay," said Tallyho, "I know not why; but I spoke as I thought, feeling as
      I do a desire to have a pop at the partridges as the season is now fast
      approaching, and having serious thoughts of shifting my quarters."
    </p>
    <p>
      "We will talk of that hereafter," was the reply. "You have an excellent
      day's sport in view, let us not throw a cloud upon the prospect before us&mdash;you
      seem rather in the doldrums. The amusements of this day will perhaps
      inspire more lively ideas; and then we shall be present at the masquerade,
      which will doubtless be well attended; all the fashion of the Metropolis
      will be present, and there you will find a new world, such as surpasses
      the powers of imagination&mdash;a sort of Elysium unexplored before, full
      of mirth, frolic, whim, wit and variety, to charm every sense in nature.
      But come, we must not delay participating in immediate gratifications by
      the anticipations of those intended for the future. Besides, I have
      engaged to give the Champion a cast to the scene of action in my
      barouche."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time Piccadilly was all in motion&mdash;coaches, carts, gigs,
      tilburies, whiskies, buggies, dog-carts, sociables, dennets, curricles,
      and sulkies, were passing in rapid succession, intermingled with tax-carts
      and waggons decorated with laurel, conveying company of the most varied
      description. In a few minutes, the barouche being at the door, crack went
      the whip, and off they bowled. Bob's eyes were attracted on all sides.
      Here, was to be seen the dashing Corinthian tickling up his tits, and his
      bang-up set-out of blood and bone, giving the go-by to a heavy drag laden
      with eight brawney bull-faced blades, smoking their way down behind a
      skeleton of a horse, to whom in all probability a good feed of corn would
      have been a luxury; pattering among themselves, occasionally chaffing the
      more elevated drivers by whom they were surrounded, and pushing forward
      their nags with all the ardour of a British <span class="pagenum">[394]</span>
      merchant intent upon disposing of a valuable cargo of foreign goods on
      'Change. There, was a waggon, full of all sorts upon the lark, succeeded
      by a donkey-cart with four insides; but Neddy, not liking his burthen,
      stopt short on the way of a Dandy, whose horse's head coming plump up to
      the back of the crazy vehicle at the moment of its stoppage, threw the
      rider into the arms of a Dustman, who, hugging his customer with the
      determined grasp of a bear, swore d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;n his eyes he had
      saved his life, and he expected he would stand something handsome for the
      Gemmen all round, for if he had not pitched into their cart, he would
      certainly have broke his neck; which being complied with, though
      reluctantly, he regained his saddle, and proceeded a little more
      cautiously along the remainder of the road, while groups of pedestrians of
      all ranks and appearances lined each side.
    </p>
    <p>
      At Hyde-Park Corner, Tom having appointed to take up the prime hammer-man,
      drew up, and was instantly greeted by a welcome from the expected party,
      who being as quickly seated, they proceeded on their journey.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This match appears to occupy general attention," said Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I should think so," was the reply&mdash;"why it will be a prime thing as
      ever was seen. Betting is all alive&mdash;the Daffy Club in tip-top
      spirits&mdash;lots of money sported on both sides&mdash;somebody must make
      a mull{1}&mdash;but Randall's the man&mdash;he is the favourite of the
      day, all the world to a penny-roll."
    </p>
    <p>
      The simile of the penny roll being quite in point with the known title of
      one of the combatants, caused a smile on Dashall's countenance, which was
      caught by the eye of Tallyho, and created some mirth, as it was a proof of
      what has frequently been witnessed, that the lovers of the fancy are as
      apt in their imaginations at times, as they are ready for the
      accommodating one, two, or the friendly flush hit which floors their
      opponents.
    </p>
    <p>
      The morning was fine, and the numerous persons who appeared travelling on
      the road called forth many inquiries from Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said he, "I think I recollect that the admirable author of the <i>Sentimental
      Journey</i> used to read as he went along&mdash;is it possible to read as
      we journey forward?" "Doubtless," replied Tom, "it is, and will produce
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Mull&mdash;Defeat, loss, or disappointment.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[395]</span> a fund of amusing speculation as we jog
      on. Lavater founded his judgment of men upon the formation of their
      features; Gall and Spurzheim by the lumps, bumps and cavities of their
      pericraniums; but I doubt not we shall be right in our views of the
      society we are likely to meet, without the help of either&mdash;do you see
      that group?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob nodded assent.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These," continued Tom, "are profitable characters, or rather men of
      profit, who, kindly considering the constitution of their friends, provide
      themselves with refreshments of various kinds, to supply the hungry
      visitors round the ring&mdash;oranges, nuts, apples, gingerbread, biscuits
      and peppermint drops."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not forgetting <i>blue ruin and French lace</i>,"{1} said the man of
      fist; "but you have only half done it&mdash;don't you see the <i>Cash-cove</i>{2}
      behind, with his stick across his shoulder, <i>padding the hoof</i>{3} in
      breathless speed? he has <i>shell'd out the lour</i>{4} for the occasion,
      and is travelling down to keep a <i>wakeful winker</i>{5} on his
      retailers, and to take care that however they may chuse to lush away the
      profit, they shall at least take care of the principal. The little Dandy
      just before him also acts as Whipper-in; between them they mark out the
      ground,{6} watch the progress, and pocket the proceeds. They lend the
      money for the others to traffic."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess," said Tom, "I was not exactly up to this."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye, aye, but I know the <i>Blunt-monger</i>,{7} and am up to his ways
      and means," was the reply.&mdash;"Hallo, my eyes, here he comes!"
      continued he, rising from his seat, and bowing obsequiously to a Gentleman
      who passed them in a tandem&mdash;"all right, I am glad of it&mdash;always
      good sport when he is present&mdash;no want of sauce or seasoning&mdash;he
      always <i>comes it strong</i>."{8}
    </p>
    <p>
      "I perceive," replied Tom, "you allude to the noble Marquis of W&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 French lace&mdash;A flash or cant term for brandy.

     2 Cash-cove&mdash;A monied man.

     3 Padding the hoof&mdash;Travelling on Shanks's mare, or taking
     a turn by the marrow-bone stage, i.e. walking.

     4 Shell'd out the lour&mdash;Supplied the cash.

     5  Wakeful winker&mdash;A sharp eye.

     6 Mark out the ground&mdash;Is to place his retailers in various
     parts of the Ring for the accommodation of the company, any
     where he may expect to find them himself.

     7 Blunt-monger&mdash;Money-dealer, or money-lender.

     8 Comes it strong&mdash;No flincher, a real good one.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[396]</span> Travelling gently along the road, they
      were presently impeded by a crowd of persons who surrounded a long cart or
      waggon, which had just been overturned, and had shot out a motley group of
      personages, who were being lifted on their legs, growling and howling at
      this unforeseen disaster. A hard-featured sailor, whose leg had been
      broken by the fall, brandished a splinter of the fractured limb, and swore&mdash;"That
      although his timbers were shivered, and he had lost a leg in the service,
      he would not be the last in the Ring, but he'd be d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d
      if he mount the rubbish-cart any more." It is needless to observe his leg
      was a wooden one.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon examining the inscription on the cart, it was found to contain the
      following words:&mdash;"Household Furniture, Building Materials, and
      Lumber carefully removed." As it was ascertained that no real injury had
      been sustained, our party speedily passed the overturned vehicle and
      proceeded.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next object of attraction was a small cart drawn by one poor animal,
      sweating and snorting under the weight of six Swells, led by an old man,
      who seemed almost as incapable as his horse seemed unwilling to perform
      the journey. A label on the outside of the cart intimated that its
      contents was soap, which created some laughter between Tom and Bob. The
      man in the front, whose Jew-looking appearance attracted attention, was
      endeavouring to increase the speed of the conveyance by belabouring the
      boney rump of the <i>prad</i>{1} with his hat, while some of their
      pedestrian <i>palls</i>{2} were following close in the rear, and taking
      occasionally a <i>drap of the cratur</i>, which was handed out behind and
      returned after refreshment.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These," said Tom to his Cousin, "are also men of profit, but not exactly
      in the way of those we passed&mdash;second-rate Swells and broken-down
      Gamesters, determined, as the saying is, to have a shy, even if they lose
      their sticks, and more properly may be termed men of plunder; desperate in
      their pursuits, they turn out with intent to make the best of the day, and
      will not fail to nibble all they can come easily at."
    </p>
    <p>
      "They are not worth the blood from a broken nose," said the Pugilist, with
      a feeling for the honour of his profession which did him credit.&mdash;"They
      are all prigs, their company
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Prad&mdash;A cant term for a horse.

     2 Palls&mdash;Partners, accomplices, colleagues.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[397]</span> spoils all genteel society, and
      frequently brings disgrace upon others with whom they are unworthy to
      associate, or even to be seen&mdash;there's no getting rid of such gentry.
      Is it not d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d hard a man can't have a pleasant bit of
      a turn-up, without having his friends filched?&mdash;But here comes the
      gay fellows, here they come upon the trot, all eager and anxious to mark
      the first blow, start the odds, and curry the coal.{1} These are the lads
      of life&mdash;true lovers of the sport&mdash;up to the manouvre&mdash;clear
      and quick-sighted, nothing but good ones&mdash;aye aye, and here comes
      Bill Gibbons, furnished with the fashionables."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What do you call the fashionables?" inquired Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, the Binders."
    </p>
    <p>
      Here he was as much at a loss as ever, which the other perceiving, he
      continued&mdash;"The Binders are the stakes and ropes, to fence in the
      Ring."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bill Gibbons, who was well known on the road, and was speeding down pretty
      sharp, was followed by crowds of vehicles of all descriptions; as many to
      whom the place of meeting was but conjectured, upon seeing him felt
      assured of being in the right track. Here were to be seen the Swells in
      their tandems&mdash;the Nib Sprigs in their gigs, buggies, and dog-carts&mdash;and
      the Tidy Ones on their trotters, all alive and leaping. Mirth and
      merriment appeared spread over every countenance, though expectation and
      anxiety were intermingled here and there in the features of the real lads
      of the fancy; many of whom, upon this very interesting occasion, had bets
      to a considerable amount depending upon the result of the day. The bang-up
      blades were pushing their prads along in gay style, accompanied by two
      friends, that is to say, a biped and a quadruped. The queer fancy lads,
      who had hired hacks from the livery-stable keepers, were kicking up a
      dust, and here and there rolling from their prancers in their native soil;
      while the neck or nothing boys, with no prospect but a whereas before
      their eyes, were as heedless of their personal safety as they were of
      their Creditor's property. Jaded hacks and crazy vehicles were to be seen
      on all sides&mdash;here lay a bankrupt-cart with the panels knock'din, and
      its driver with an eye knock'd out, the horse lamed, and the concern
      completely knock'd up, just before the period when the hammer of the
      Auctioneer was to be called in, and his effects knock'd down. There was
      another
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Curry the coal&mdash;Make sure of the money.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[398]</span> of the same description, with a
      harum-scarum devil of a half-bred, making his way at all risks, at a full
      gallop, as unmanageable in his career as his driver had been in his
      speculations; dust flying, women sprawling, men bawling, dogs barking, and
      the multitude continually increasing. Scouts, Scamps, Lords, Loungers and
      Lacqueys&mdash;Coster-mongers from&mdash;To the Hill Fields&mdash;and The
      Bloods from Bermondsey, completely lined the road as far as the eye could
      reach, both before and behind; it was a day of the utmost importance to
      the pugilistic school, as the contest had excited a most unparalleled
      degree of interest!
    </p>
    <p>
      It would be scarcely possible to give a full and accurate description of
      the appearances as they went along; imagination would labour in vain, and
      words are altogether incapable of conveying a picture of the road to this
      memorable fight; the various instances in which they could discover that
      things were not all right were admirably contrasted by others, where care
      and good coachmanship, with a perfect management of the bloods, proved the
      reverse&mdash;while the single horsemen, whose hearts were really engaged
      in the sport, were picking their way with celerity, and posting to the
      point of attraction.&mdash;The public-houses were thronged to excess, and
      the Turnpike-keepers made a market of the mirth-moving throng.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2image-0006" id="link2image-0006">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page398.jpg" alt="Page398 Road to a Fight " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      Our party arrived in the neighbourhood of Copthorne about half-past
      twelve, where all was bustle and confusion. The commissary in chief, Mr.
      Jackson, being out of town, some of the subalterns, who had taken the
      command <i>pro tempore</i>, had, for divers weighty reasons,principally
      founded on a view to the profits of certain of the Surrey Trusts, and to
      accommodate the sporting circles at Brighton, fixed the combat to take
      place in a meadow belonging to a farmer named Jarvis, near this place.
    </p>
    <p>
      On this spot accordingly the ring was formed, and an immense mass of all
      descriptions of vehicles was admitted, not much, it may naturally be
      supposed, to the prejudice of the owner of the premises, whose agents were
      praise-worthily active in levying proper contributions. Some Gentlemen
      however in the neighbourhood, observing that the strictest delicacy was
      not maintained towards the sacredness of their fences, insisted that the
      place was too confined, and intimated that a move must be made, or they
      should make application to the Magistrates; and at the same time suggested
      Crawley Downs, the site of so <span class="pagenum">[399]</span> many
      former skirmishes, as the most convenient spot for their accommodation.
    </p>
    <p>
      In this state of things, a move immediately took place, and a fresh ring
      was established on the spot alluded to; but, in effecting this new
      lodgment, much mortification was experienced, not alone by those, who,
      after a dreadful drag up one of the worst by-roads in England, had
      obtained a comfortable situation, but by those, who, speculating on the
      formation of the ring, had expended considerable sums in the hire of
      waggons for their purpose from the surrounding farmers. The waggons it was
      found impossible to move in due time, and thus the new area was composed
      of such vehicles as were first to reach the appointed ground.
    </p>
    <p>
      The general confusion now was inconceivable, for, notwithstanding the
      departure of connoisseurs from Jarvis's Farm, Martin still maintained his
      post, alleging, that he was on the ground originally fixed, and that he
      should expect Randall to meet him there; in which demand he was supported
      by his backers. This tended to increase the embarrassment of the amateurs;
      however, about one, Randall arrived at Crawley Downs, in a post-chaise,
      and took up his quarters at a cottage near the ground, waiting for his
      man; and at two, General Barton, who had just mounted his charger,
      intending to consult the head-quarters of the Magistrates, to ascertain
      their intention in case of proceeding to action at Jarvis's Farm, was
      suddenly arrested in his progress by an express from the Martinites,
      announcing that their champion had yielded his claim to the choice of
      ground, and was so anxious for the mill, that he would meet Randall even
      in a saw-pit. Bill Gibbons arriving soon after, the Ring, with the
      assistance of many hands, was quickly formed; by which time, Tom and Bob
      had secured themselves excellent situations to view the combat.
    </p>
    <p>
      About twenty minutes before three, Randall entered the outer Ring,
      attended by General Barton and Mr. Griffiths. He was attired in a
      Whitehall upper Benjamin, and <i>threw his hat into the Ring</i> amidst
      loud applause. In a few minutes after, Martin approached from an opposite
      direction, accompanied by Mr. Sant and Mr. Elliott; he was also warmly
      greeted.
    </p>
    <p>
      The men now passed the ropes, and were assisted by their immediate friends
      in peeling for action. Martin was <span class="pagenum">[400]</span>
      attended by Spring and Thurton; Randall, by Harry Holt and Paddington
      Jones.
    </p>
    <p>
      The men stript well, and both appeared to be in excellent health, good
      spirits, and high condition; but the symmetry of Randall's bust excited
      general admiration; and the muscular strength of his arms, neck, and
      shoulders, bore testimony to his Herculean qualities; the whole force of
      his body, in fact, seem'd to be concentrated above his waistband. Martin
      stood considerably above him, his arms were much longer, but they wanted
      that bold and imposing weight which characterized those of Randall. They
      walked up to the <i>scratch</i>, and shook hands in perfect good
      fellowship. Every man now took his station, and the heroes threw
      themselves into their guard.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was rumoured that Martin intended to lose no time in manoeuvring, but
      to go to work instanter. This however he found was not so easily to be
      effected as suggested, for Randall had no favour to grant, and was
      therefore perfectly on his guard. He was all wary caution, and had clearly
      no intention of throwing away a chance, but was evidently waiting for
      Martin to commence. Martin once or twice made play, but Randall was not
      skittishly inclined, all was "war hawk." Randall made a left-handed hit to
      draw his adversary, but found it would not do. Martin then hit right and
      left, but was stopped. Randall was feeling for Martin's wind, but hit
      above his mark, though not without leaving one of a red colour, which told
      "a flattering tale." Randall returned with his left, and the men got to a
      smart rally, when Randall got a konker, which tapped the claret. An almost
      instantaneous close followed, in which Randall, grasping Martin round the
      neck with his right arm, and bringing his head to a convenient posture,
      sarved out punishment with his left. This was indeed a terrific position.
      Randall was always famous for the dreadful force of his short left-handed
      hits, and on this occasion they lost none of their former character.
      Martin's nob was completely in a vice; and while in that hopeless
      condition, Randall fibbed away with the solid weight of the hammer of a
      tuck-mill. His aim was principally at the neck, where every blow told with
      horrible violence. Eight or ten times did he repeat the dose, and then,
      with a violent swing, threw Martin to the ground, falling on him as he;
      went with all his weight. The Ring resounded with applause, and Jack
      coolly took <span class="pagenum">[401]</span> his seat on the knee of his
      Second. Martin's friends began to look blue, but still expected, the fight
      being young, there was yet much to be done.
    </p>
    <p>
      All eyes were now turned to Martin, who being lifted on Spring's knee, in
      a second discovered that he was done. His head fell back lifeless, and all
      the efforts of Spring to keep it straight were in vain. Water was thrown
      on him in abundance, but without effect: he was, in fact, completely
      senseless; and the half-minute having transpired, the Nonpareil was hailed
      the victor.
    </p>
    <p>
      Randall appeared almost without a scratch, while poor Martin lay like a
      lump of unleavened dough; he was removed and bled, but it was some time
      before he was conscious of his defeat.
    </p>
    <p>
      Nothing could exceed the astonishment which so sudden and complete a
      finish to the business produced. The round lasted but seven minutes and a
      half, of which four minutes and a half had elapsed before a blow was
      attempted. Thus ended one of the most extraordinary battles between two
      known game men on the pugilistic records. Very heavy bets had been made
      upon it in all parts of the kingdom. One gentleman is said to have had
      five thousand pounds, and another one thousand eight hundred guineas. The
      gains of the conqueror were supposed to be about a thousand pounds.
    </p>
    <p>
      The amusements of the day were concluded by a second fight between Parish
      and Lashbroke, which proved a manly and determined contest for upwards of
      an hour, and in which the combatants evinced considerable skill and
      bravery, and was finally decided in favour of Parish. All amusement which
      might have been derived from this spectacle, however, was completely
      destroyed by the daring outrages of an immense gang of pickpockets, who
      broke in the Ring, and closed completely up to the ropes, carrying with
      them every person, of decent appearance, and openly robbing them of their
      watches, pocket-books and purses. And the lateness of the hour, it being
      five o'clock, and almost dark, favoured the depredators.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the midst of this struggle, Tom Dashall had nearly lost his fancy
      topper,{1} and Tallyho was secretly eased of his clicker.{2} From the
      scene of tumult and confusion they were glad to escape; and being again
      safely seated in the
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Topper&mdash;A flash term given to a hat.

     2 Clicker&mdash;A flash term given to a watch,
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[402]</span> barouche, they made the best of their
      way home; in doing which, they found the roads almost as much clogg'd as
      they were in the morning. The Randallites were meritorious, and, flushed
      with good fortune, lined the public-houses on the road to <i>wet their
      whistles</i>, singing and shouting his name in strains to them equally
      inspiring as
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "See the conquering hero comes!
          Sound your trumpets, beat your drums;"
</pre>
    <p>
      while the Martinites rolled along the road in sullen silence; and, by the
      time they reached town, an account of the Battle was hawking about the
      streets, and songs singing to the praise of the successful combatant in
      all the melodious cadences of a last dying speech and confession: such is
      the promptitude of London Printers, Poets, and News-venders.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," said Dashall, as they re-entered the house, "the events of this
      day have completely disappointed some of the knowing ones."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That may be," replied Bob, "but they have been too knowing for me,
      notwithstanding your previous instructions. However, I don't regret seeing
      the humours of a Prize Ring; and the next time you catch me there, I must
      take a lesson from the man of profit, and keep a wakeful winker on the
      possibles. Really, I could not help feeling astonished at the immense
      number of persons assembled on such an occasion."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2image-0007" id="link2image-0007">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page402.jpg" alt="Page402 a Private Turn-up " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      "Zounds!" said Tom, "'tis the real centre of attraction, the thing, the
      tippy, and the twig, among the Lads of the Fancy. Why, it is pretty
      generally known, through the medium of the newspapers, that a certain
      Nobleman paid the debts of one of these Pugilists, amounting to 300L. that
      he might be released from Newgate in order to fight a prize battle; and it
      is not long since that the Marquis of T&mdash;ed&mdash;e, whilst
      entertaining a large party, after dinner introduced the subject with so
      much effect, that a purse of 100 guineas was subscribed among them for a
      turn up between two of the <i>prime hammermen</i>; who, being introduced,
      actually set-to in his drawing-room for the amusement of his friends. Nor
      is it less true, that this sporting Nobleman gloriously took up the
      conqueror, (as the saying is) and evinced his patronage and his power at
      once, by actually subduing his antagonist, proving to certitude, that if
      his Lordship would but practise this sublime art, he <span class="pagenum">[403]</span>
      could hardly fail of adding to his present title that of the Champion of
      England! It is the theme of constant conversation, and in many cases there
      is more anxiety about contests of this sort than there is about the
      arrival of a Monarch on the Irish coast among the lads of <i>praties</i>,
      whiskey, and buttermilk&mdash;thoughts are busy, energies are active&mdash;and
      money in galore is circulated upon it."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob laughed heartily at these observations of his Cousin upon what he
      termed the sublime art.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You don't appear to enter into the spirit of it," continued Tom; "but I
      can assure you, it is a very animating subject, and has occupied the
      attention of all classes, from the peer to the prelate, the peasant and
      the pot-boy; it is said that one of the lower order of ranting Preachers,
      not many miles from Bolton-on-the-Moors, lately addressed his auditory in
      the following metaphorical language, accompanied with striking and
      appropriate attitudes:&mdash;'I dare say, now, you'd pay to see a
      boxing-match between Randall and Turner, or Martin&mdash;yet you don't
      like to pay for seeing a pitched-battle between me and the Black Champion
      Beelzebub. Oh! my friends, many a hard knock, and many a cross-buttock
      have I given the arch bruiser of mankind&mdash;aye, and all for your dear
      sakes&mdash;pull&mdash;do pull off those gay garments of Mammon, strike
      the devil a straight-forward blow in the mouth, darken his spiritual
      daylights. At him manfully, give it him right and left, and I'll be your
      bottle-holder&mdash;I ask nothing but the money, which you'll not forget
      before you go.' "
    </p>
    <p>
      "The true spirit moved him," said Bob, "and a very laudable one too; but
      he very emphatically deprecated the votaries of Mammon."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly, he being called, would have been unworthy of his calling if he
      had not."
    </p>
    <p>
      This conversation was carried on over a glass of generous wine, and,
      dwindling into indifferent subjects, is not necessary to be detailed;
      suffice it to say, that, fatigued with the day's exertions, they sought
      repose in the arms of Morpheus at an early hour, determined on the pursuit
      of fresh game with the dawn of the morning.<span class="pagenum">[404]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link22HCH0010" id="link22HCH0010">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXVI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "See yonder beaux, so delicately gay;
          And yonder belles, so'deck'd in thin array&mdash;
          Ah! rather see not what a decent pride
          Would teach a maiden modestly to hide;
          The dress so flimsy, the exposure such,
          "twould almost make a very wanton blush.
          E'en married dames, forgetting what is due
          To sacred ties, give half clad charms to view.
          What calls them forth to brave the daring glance,
          The public ball, the midnight wanton dance?
          There many a blooming nymph, by fashion led,
          Has felt her health, her peace, her honour fled;
          Truss'd her fine form to strange fantastic shapes,
          To be admir'd, and twirl'd about by apes;
          Or, mingling in the motley masquerade,
          Found innocence by visor'd vice betrayed."
</pre>
    <p>
      AN agreeable lounge through the Parks in the morning afforded them an
      opportunity of recalling in idea the pleasures of the past Real Life in
      London, of which Tallyho had been enabled to partake, and during which he
      again signified a desire to change the scene, by a departure at an early
      period for his native vales, to breathe, as he observed, the
      uncontaminated air of the country&mdash;to watch the wary pointer, and
      mark the rising covey&mdash;to pursue the timid hare, or chase the cunning
      fox; and Dashall finding him inflexible, notwithstanding his glowing
      descriptions of scenes yet unexplored, at length consented to accompany
      him to Belville Hall, upon condition that they should return again in a
      month. This mode of arrangement seemed perfectly satisfactory to Bob; and
      a view of the Panorama and a peep at the Tennis Court would have finished
      their rambles for the day, but at the latter place of amusement and
      healthful exercise, meeting with young Mortimer, a further developement of
      facts relative to Sparkle and his Bride transpired; in which it appeared
      that they had arrived at their place of destination, and had forwarded an
      invitation to his brother-in-law to <span class="pagenum">[405]</span> pay
      them an early visit, and who proposed starting in a few days.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," said Dashall, "we will all go together, and no doubt with our old
      friend Sparkle we shall be able to endure the unchanging prospects of a
      country life."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "In the Country how blest, when it rains in the fields,
          To feast upon transports that shuttle-cock yields;
          Or go crawling from window to window, to see
          An ass on a common, a crow on a tree.

          In the Country you're nail'd, like some pale in your park,
          To some stick of a neighbour, crammed into the ark;
          And if you are sick, or in fits tumble down,
          You reach death ere the Doctor can reach you from town."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Never mind," cried Tallyho, "a change of scene will no doubt be useful,
      and, at all events, by enduring the one, we may learn more judiciously to
      appreciate the other."
    </p>
    <p>
      "True," said Tom, "and I shall like myself all the better for being in
      good company. But pray, Mr. Mortimer, what do you mean to do at the
      approaching masquerade?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not quite decided yet," was the reply.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You go, of course?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly&mdash;as Orpheus, or Apollo. But pray what character do you
      intend to sustain?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "That's a secret&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Worth knowing, I suppose&mdash;well, well, I shall find you out, never
      fear."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Time's a tell-tale," said Dashall, "and will most likely unfold all
      mysteries; but I always think the life and spirit of a masquerade is much
      injured by a knowledge of the characters assumed by friends, unless it be
      where two or more have an intention of playing, as it were, to, and with
      each other; for where there is mystery, there is always interest. I shall
      therefore propose that we keep to ourselves the characters in which we
      mean to appear; for I am determined, if possible, to have a merry night of
      it."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "On the lightly sportive wing,
          At pleasure's call we fly;
          Hark! they dance, they play, they sing,
          In merry merry revelry;
          Hark! the tabors lively beat,
          And the flute in numbers sweet,
          Fill the night with delight
          At the Masquerade.
          Let the grave ones warn us as they may,
          Of every harmless joy afraid;
          Whilst we're young and gay,
          We'll frolic and play
          At the Masquerade."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[406]</span> Tom's observations upon this subject
      were in perfect accordance with those of. Mortimer and Tallyho; though he
      had intended to consult his Cousin as to the character he should appear
      in, he now determined to take his own direction, or to have advice from
      Fentum in the Strand, whose advertisements to supply dresses, &amp;c. he
      had observed in the newspapers.
    </p>
    <p>
      These preliminaries being decided upon, as far as appeared needful at the
      moment, Mortimer departed towards home, where he expected to meet his
      Uncle upon his return from the chase after the fugitives, Sparkle and Miss
      Mortimer, now Mrs. Sparkle; and Tom and Bob to Piccadilly, where a select
      party of Dashall's friends were invited to dinner, and where they enjoyed
      a pleasant evening, drank rather freely, and had but little to regret
      after it, except certain qualmish feelings of the head and stomach the
      next morning.
    </p>
    <p>
      The anticipated Masquerade had been the principal subject of conversation,
      so long as reason held her sway; but the hard exercise of the arm, and the
      generosity of the wine, had an early and visible effect upon some of the
      party, who did not separate till a late hour, leaving Bob just strength
      and intelligence enough to find the way to his dormitory.
    </p>
    <p>
      By the arrival of the appointed evening for the grand Masquerade at
      Vauxhall Gardens, Tom Dashall, who had a particular view in keeping his
      intended proceedings a secret, had arranged all to his wishes, and
      anticipated considerable amusement from the interest he should take in the
      safety of his Cousin, whom he entertained no doubt of quickly discovering,
      and with whom he determined to promote as much mirth as possible.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho, in the mean time, had also made occasional calls upon Merrywell
      in his confinement, and, under his direction, been preparing for the
      occasion, equally determined, if possible, to turn the laugh on his
      Cousin; <span class="pagenum">[407]</span> and it must be acknowledged, he
      could scarcely have found a more able tutor, though he was doomed rather
      to suffer by his confidence in his instructor, as will hereafter be seen;
      for, in escaping the intended torment of one, he was unexpectedly
      subjected to the continual harassing of another.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was about half after eleven o'clock, when Tallyho, duly equipped in his
      country costume, as a Huntsman, entered this splendid and spacious scene
      of brilliancy. The blaze of light which burst upon him, and the variety of
      characters in constant motion, appeared almost to render him motionless;
      and several of the would-be characters passed him with a vacant stare,
      declaring he was no character at all! nor was he roused from his lethargic
      position till he heard a view halloo, which seemed to come from a distant
      part of the Garden, and was so delivered, as actually to give him an idea
      of the party being in pursuit of game, by growing fainter towards the
      close, as if receding from him. The sound immediately animated him, and
      answering it in a truly sportsman-like style, he burst from his situation,
      and cracking his whip, at full speed followed in the direction from which
      it came, under the impression that he knew the voice of Dashall, and
      should discover him. In his speed, however, he was rather rudely attacked
      by a small dandy personage, whose outward appearance indicated some
      pretensions to manhood, with a "Demmee, Sir, how dare you be rude to my
      voman! for egad I shall have you clapped in the Round-house&mdash;here,
      Vatchman, take this here man in charge&mdash;Vatch! Vatch!" The voice
      however soon told him he had a lady to deal with, and he entered into a
      long harangue by way of apology. This not being acceptable to the offended
      party, he was surrounded by a host of Charleys springing their rattles all
      at once, and, notwithstanding the dexterous use of his whip, he was
      obliged to yield. At this moment, Tallyho was again sounded in his ears,
      issuing from another quarter; but his struggles to pursue the party from
      whom it came were ineffectual. A rough-hewn Sailor with a pipe in his
      mouth, and an immense cudgel in his hand, however, arrived to his
      assistance, accompanied by an Irish Chairman in a large blue coat, and a
      cock'd hat bound with gold lace, armed with a chair-pole, who effected his
      liberty; and he again scoured off in pursuit <span class="pagenum">[408]</span>
      of his friend, but without success. He now began to think his situation
      not altogether so pleasant as he could wish. He listened to every voice,
      examined every form that passed him in rapid succession; yet he felt
      himself alone, and determined not to be led away by sounds such as had
      already occupied his attention, but rather to look about him, and notice
      the eccentricities with which he was surrounded. Sauntering along in this
      mood, he was presently assailed by a voice behind him, exclaiming, "Bob&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Bob, if you wish to go safely on,
          Tarn round about, and look out for the Don."
</pre>
    <p>
      Upon hearing this, he turned hastily around, and encountered a group of
      Chimney-sweepers, who immediately set up such a clatter with their brushes
      and shovels, dancing at the same time in the true May-day style round him
      and a strapping Irish fish-woman, that he was completely prevented from
      pursuit, and almost from observation, while a universal laugh from those
      near him bespoke the mirth his situation excited; and the Hibernian
      damsel, with true Irish sympathy, attempted to allay his chagrin by
      clasping him in her brawny arms, and imprinting on his ruddy cheek a kiss.
      This only served to heighten their merriment and increase his
      embarrassment, particularly as his <i>Cher ami</i> swore she had not had a
      buss like it since the death of her own dear dead and departed Phelim, the
      last of her four husbands, who died of a whiskey fever, bawling for
      pratees and buttermilk, and was waked in a coal-shed.
    </p>
    <p>
      This mark of the Lady's favour was not so favourably received by Tallyho,
      and, determined to make his escape, he gave Moll a violent fling from him,
      overturned her and her basket, knock'd down two of the Chimney-sweepers,
      and then with a leap as if he had been springing at a five-barred gate,
      jumped over his late companion, who lay sprawling among the flue-fakers,
      and effected his purpose, to the inexpressible amusement of those, who,
      after enjoying a hearty laugh at him, now transferred their risibility to
      those he left behind. Finding himself once more unshackled, he smack'd his
      whip with enthusiasm, and repeated his Tallyho with increased effect; for
      it was immediately answered, and, without waiting for its final close, he
      found the person from whom it was <span class="pagenum">[409]</span>
      proceeding to be no other than a Turk, who was precipitately entering one
      of the rooms, and was as quickly recognized by him to be the Hon. Tom
      Dashall. The alteration which a Turkish turban and pelisse had effected in
      his person, would however have operated as an effectual bar to this
      discovery, had he not seized him in the very moment of vociferation; and
      although his Cousin had been the chief cause of the adventures he had
      already met with, he had at the same time kept an eye upon Bob, and been
      equally instrumental in effecting his release from embarrassment.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Tom, "I am for a little gig in the Room&mdash;how long have
      you been here?&mdash;I thought I should find you out, very few can
      disguise themselves from me; we will now be spectators for half an hour,
      and enjoy the mirth excited by others."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," rejoined Bob, "for I am almost as tired already as if
      I had spent a whole day in a fox-chase, and have run as many risks of my
      neck; so that a cool half hour's observation will be very acceptable."
    </p>
    <p>
      They had scarcely entered the Room, as a Priscilla Tomboy passed them at
      full speed with a skipping-rope, for whose accommodation every one made
      way; and who, having skipped round the room to shew her fine formed ancle
      and flexibility of limbs, left it for a moment, and returned with a large
      doll, which she appeared as pleased with as a child of eight or ten years
      of age. A Jemmy Jumps assured Tom, that his garments were altogether
      unsuitable to the nation in which he was residing, and recommended that he
      should not exist another day without that now very fashionable appendage
      of a Gentleman's dress called stays&mdash;An excellent Caleb Quotem, by
      his smartness of repartee and unceasing volubility of speech in recounting
      his labours of a day&mdash;"a summer's day," as the poet says, afforded
      much amusement by his powers of out-talking the fribble of a Staymaker,
      who, finding himself confused by his eternal clack, fled in search of
      another customer. A Don Quixote was conferring the honour of knighthood on
      a clumsy representative of the God of Love, and invoking his aid in
      return, to accomplish the object of finding his lost Dulcinea. An
      outlandish fancy-dressed character was making an assignation with a Lady,
      who, having taken the veil and renounced the sex, kindly consented to
      forego <span class="pagenum">[410]</span> her vows and meet him again;
      while a Devil behind her was hooking the cock'd-hat of the gay deceiver to
      the veil of the Nun, which created considerable laughter, for as they
      attempted to separate, they were both completely unmasked, and discovered,
      to the amazement of Tallyho, two well-known faces, little expected there
      by him&mdash;no other than Merrywell as the Dandy Officer, and his friend
      Mr. Safebind as the Nun. The exposure rather confused them, while Tom and
      Bob joined the merry Devil in a loud burst of laughter&mdash;they however
      bustled through the room and were quickly lost.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2image-0008" id="link2image-0008">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page410.jpg" alt="Page410 Masquerade " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      A French <i>Frisseur</i>, without any knowledge of the language of the
      nation from which he appeared to come, could only answer a question <i>a
      la Françoise</i> from the accomplished Tom Dashall, by a volume of scented
      powder from his puff, which being observed by a Chimney-sweeper, was
      returned by dust of another colour from his soot-bag, till the
      intermixture of white and black left it difficult to decide which was the
      Barber and which the Sweep. They were now suddenly attracted by a
      grotesque dance between a Clown of the Grimaldi school and a fancy Old
      Woman in a garment of patch-work made in an ancient fashion. A red nose,
      long rows of beads for ear-rings, and a pair of spectacles surmounted by a
      high cauled-cap, decorated with ribbons of various hues, rendered her the
      most conspicuous character in the room: and notwithstanding her
      high-heeled shoes, she proved herself an excellent partner for the Clown.
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time, Bob, who was anxious to carry his plan into execution, began
      to be fidgetty, and proposed a walk into the open air again. As they left
      the room, his ears were attracted by the following song by a Watchman,
      which he could not help stopping to catch, and which afforded his Cousin
      an excellent opportunity of giving him the slip:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Fly, ye prigs,{1} for now's the hour,
          (Tho' boosey kids{2} have lost their power,)
          When watchful Charleys,{3} like the Sun,
          Their nightly course of duty run
          Beneath the pale-faced moon;

     1 Prigs&mdash;Pickpockets.

     2 Boosey kids&mdash;Drunken men.

     3 Charleys&mdash;A cant term for watchmen.

          But take this warning while ye fly,
          That if you nibble, click,{1} or clye,{2}
          My sight's so dim, I cannot see,
          Unless while you the blunt{3} tip me:
          Then stay, then stay;
          For I shall make this music speak,{4}
          And bring you up before the Beak,{5}
          Unless the chink's in tune.

          Now, ye rambling sons of night,
          Or peep-o'-day boys{6} on your flight,
          Well prim'd with Jack or Child Tom's juice,
          While you the silver key{7} produce,
          Your safety then is clear.
          But snuffy,{8} and not up to snuff,{9}
          You'll And your case is queer enough;
          Shell out the nonsense;{10} half a quid{11}
          Will speak more truth than all your whid:{12}

          Then go, then go;
          For, if you linger on your way,
          You'll for my music dearly pay,
          I'll quod you, never fear."
</pre>
    <p>
      Turning round with laughter from this character, who had attracted many
      hearers, he look'd in vain for Dashall, and was not displeased to find he
      had fled. He therefore hastily withdrew from the scene of merriment, and
      according to the instructions previously received, and for which he had
      prepared, quickly changed his dress, and appeared again in the character
      of a Judge, under the impression hinted by his counsellor, that the
      gravity of his wig and gown, with a steady countenance,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1  Click&mdash;A contraction of the word clicker, for a watch.

     2 Clye&mdash;A pocket-handkerchief.

     3 Blunt&mdash;Money.

     4 Music&mdash;Alluding to the rattle.

     5 Beak&mdash;A magistrate.

     6 Peep-o'-day boys&mdash;Staunch good ones&mdash;reeling home after
     the frolics of the night.

     7 Silver key&mdash;Money which is thus termed, as it is supposed
     to open all places, and all hearts.

          "If you are sick and like to die,
          And for the Doctor send,
          Or have the cholic in your eye,
          Still money is your friend&mdash;is it not?"

     8 Snuffy&mdash;Drunk.

     9  Up to Snuff&mdash;-Elevation of ideas.

     10 Shell out the nonsense&mdash;To pay money.

     11 Half a quid&mdash;Half a guinea.

     12  Whid&mdash;Words or talk.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[412]</span> would be a quiet and peaceable part to
      get through, and shield him from the torment of those whom Bob suspected
      willing to play tricks with him should he be discovered. Here however he
      again found himself at fait, for he had scarcely entered the Gardens,
      before a host of depredators were brought before him for trial. The
      Charleys brought in succession, drunken Fiddlers, Tinkers and Barbers; and
      appeals were made to his patience in so many voices, and under so many
      varying circumstances, that Justice was nearly running mad, and poor
      Tallyho could find no chance of making a reply. An uproar from the
      approaching crowd, announced some more than ordinary culprit; and, in a
      moment, who should appear before him but a Don Giovanni, and the hooking
      Devil, Here was a fine case for decision; the Devil claimed the Don as his
      property, and addressed the Representative of Justice as follows:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Most learned and puissant Judge!
    </p>
    <p>
      "Protect my rights as you would the rights of man; I claim my property,
      and will have my claim allowed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hold," replied Bob, "if that is the case, you have no occasion to appeal
      to me&mdash;begone, black wretch, and in thy native shades yell forth thy
      discordant screams."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Most righteous Judge!&mdash;a second Daniel!" cried a bearded Shylock,
      with his knife and scales, "he shan't escape me&mdash;I'll have my bond&mdash;so
      bare his bosom 'next the heart'&mdash;let me come near him."
    </p>
    <p>
      "This is playing the Devil, indeed," said the Don.
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the Powers!" cried a 'Looney Mackwolteb,' "he's jump'd out of the fire
      into the frying-pan; and, when the Smouchee has done wid him, he may be
      grill'd in his own fat."
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment, a Leporello, who caught the last words of the Irishman,
      burst into the presence of the Judge, singing&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds, Sir, they'll grill you now, lean or fat, I know what games you
      were always at, And told you before what harm you would hatch: Now the old
      Gentleman's found you out, He'll clap us all in the round-about; Let us be
      off, ere they call for the Watch."
    </p>
    <p>
      The word Watch was re-echoed in a thousand voices; the vociferations of
      the callers, the noise of the rattles, <span class="pagenum">[413]</span>
      and the laughter of those immediately surrounding the judgment-seat,
      offered so good an opportunity for escape, that Giovanni, determining to
      have another chance, burst from the grasp of the arch enemy of mankind, to
      pursue his wonted vagaries, to the no small gratification of Bob, who,
      without actually acquitting the prisoner, rejoiced at his own escape.
    </p>
    <p>
      He had however scarcely time to congratulate himself, before he was
      annoyed by a Postman, in the usual costume, whom he had already seen
      delivering letters to the company; the contents of which appeared to
      afford considerable amusement; and who, presenting a letter addressed to
      The Lord Chief Justice Bunglecause, in a moment disappeared. Breaking open
      the envelope, he read with astonishment the following lines:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Tho' justice prevails
          Under big wigs and tails,
          You've not much of law in your nob;
          So this warning pray take,
          Your big wig forsake,
          And try a more modern scratch, Bob."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Go along Bob&mdash;Lord Chief Justice Bob in a scratch," cried a Waterman
      at his elbow, (who had heard him reading) in a voice loud enough to be
      heard at some distance.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There he'll be at home to a hair," squeaked a little finicking
      personification of a modern Peruquier, sidling up to him, picking his
      teeth with a tortoise-shell comb.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob, in bursting hastily away, under the reiterated cries of "Go along Bob&mdash;Lord
      Chief Justice Bob," with the idea of overtaking the Postman, found himself
      in a moment lock'd in the close embraces of a Meg Merrilies; while a
      little bandy-legg'd representative of the late Sir Jeffery Dunstan,
      bawling out, Ould wigs, Ould wigs, made a snatch at the grave appendage of
      Justice, and completely dismantled the head of its august representative.
      This delayed him in his progress, but it was merely to witness the wig
      flying in the air, with as much mirth to the surrounding company as when
      the greasy night-cap of the Rev. George Harvest was toss'd about the pit
      at the theatre, each one giving it a swing who could get within reach of
      it. Thus mutilated in his <span class="pagenum">[414]</span> apparel, and
      probably conceiving, according to the song,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The wig's the thing, the wig, the wig,
          The wisdom's in the wig,"
</pre>
    <p>
      Bob Tallyho took flight into a dressing-room, declaring justice was abroad
      and propriety not at home. He was however rather at a loss, as in his last
      character he had not been able to meet with the Turk, but determined to
      resume the search in a 'Domino. Having therefore equipped himself as a
      spectator, he again sallied forth with intention to explore the room, and
      for a time remained comparatively unmolested; but as he could no where
      find his Cousin, he strolled indiscriminately among the characters,
      viewing whatever appeared amusing or interesting in his way. The fineness
      of the weather greatly animated the scene, and gave increased brilliancy
      and effect to the illuminations, which were disposed in a numerous variety
      of splendid devices, representing national trophies, stars, wreaths, and
      crowns of laurel. It was the first moment he had found an opportunity of
      viewing the place in which he had been acting.
    </p>
    <p>
      The amusements of the evening were judiciously varied, and protracted by a
      constant succession of entertainments of various descriptions. Mr. Chalons
      exhibited many of his most surprising deceptions in the rotunda; where
      also young Gyngell displayed some capital performances on the slack-wire.
      In the long room the celebrated fantoccini exhibition, with groupes of
      quadrille dancers, enlivened the scene. In one walk of the garden, Mr.
      Gyngell's theatre of arts was erected, where were exhibited balancing, the
      <i>Ombres Chinoises</i>, gymnastic exercises, and other feats, and Mr.
      Gyngell performed several airs on the musical glasses; in another,
      Punchinello delighted the beholders with his antics; in a third a very
      expert Juggler played a variety of clever tricks and sleight-of-hand
      deceptions, and a couple of itinerant Italians exhibited their musical and
      mechanical show-boxes; in another part of the gardens the celebrated
      Diavolo Antonio went through his truly astonishing evolutions on the <i>corde
      volante</i>. The Duke of Gloucester's fine military band occupied the
      grand orchestra; an excellent quadrille band played throughout the night
      in the long room, while a Scottish reel band in the rotunda, and <span
      class="pagenum">[415]</span> a Pandean band in the gardens, played
      alternately reels, waltzes, and country dances.
    </p>
    <p>
      This interval of peace was truly acceptable to Bob, and he did not fail to
      make the most of it, roving like the bee from one delight to another,
      sipping pleasure as he went, almost regretting he had not taken the last
      dress first, though he was every now and then importuned by Mendicants and
      Servant girls, very desirous to obtain places of all work. The
      introduction of a Dancing Bear, who appeared to possess more Christian
      qualities than his Leader, attracted his attention; but, in pressing to
      the scene of action, he received a floorer from a Bruiser in gloves, who
      mill'd indiscriminately all who came in his way, till the Bear took the
      shine out of him by a fraternal embrace; and his Leader very politely
      asked those around which they thought the greater bear of the two. Upon
      rising, Bob found himself in the hands of two itinerant Quack Doctors,
      each holding an arm, and each feeling for his pulse. One declared the case
      was mortal, a dislocation of the neck had taken place, and there was no
      chance of preserving life except by amputation of the head. The other
      shook his head, look'd grave, pull'd out his lancet, and prescribed
      phlebotomy and warm water.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob, who had received no injury, except a little contusion occasioned by
      the blow, seized the ignorant practitioners by the throat, and knocking
      their heads together, exclaimed with a stentorian voice,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Throw physic to the clogs, I'll none on't." "Go along Bob," was repeated
      again, as loud and as long as before; he however burst from those around
      him in pursuit of fresh game; nor was he disappointed, for he presently
      found a dapper young Clergyman in gown and surplice, and who, with book in
      hand, was fervently engaged in exhortations and endeavours to turn from
      the evil of their ways a drunken Sailor and a hardened thief, (the Orson
      of the Iron Chest,) when the group were surrounded by a detachment of the
      Imps and Devils of Giovanni in London, a truly horrid and diabolical crew,
      who, by their hideous yells, frantic capers, violent gestures, and the
      flaring of their torches, scared the affrighted Parson from his task, made
      his intended penitents their own, and became an almost intolerable <span
      class="pagenum">[416]</span> nuisance to the rest of the company for the
      remainder of the evening.
    </p>
    <p>
      While he was thus engaged, the supper-boxes were thrown open, and the
      company appeared to be all on the move towards the more substantial
      entertainments of the evening. He was next suddenly detained by a Jew
      Pedlar, who was anxious to shew him his wares.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Get out, Smouchee," said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ant is dat all vat you can say to a poor honesht Jew, what vants to live
      by his 'trade, for vye you trow my religionsh in my teeth? I'm so honesht
      vat I never cheats nobody&mdash;vill you puy a gould&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;l
      Vat you take for your gown? I shall puy or sell, it's all the same to me.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now whatsoever country by chance I travel through, 'Tis all the same to
      I, so the monies but comes in; Some people call me tief, just because I am
      a Jew; So to make them tell the truth, vy I tinks there is no sin. So I
      shows them all mine coots vid a sober, winning grace, And I sometimes
      picks dere pockets whilst they're smiling in my face."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob laugh'd, but declared he'd have nothing to do with him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "you may go along Bob."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What! is it possible? I have been looking for you these two hours."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I can't eat pork," said Dashall, resuming his character.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come along," said Bob, happy to find his relation; and catching him by
      the arm, they proceeded to refreshment, and partook of an excellent supper
      of cold viands plentifully supplied, and accompanied with a profusion of
      ices and jellies, served up in a style highly creditable to the managers.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here they were joined by Mortimer, who had been as frolicsome as any imp
      in the Gardens, in the character of the Devil, but who had lost sight of
      the Dandy Officer and the Nun, whom he had so ingeniously hooked together.
      The wine was good, and after enjoying their repast, Tom and Mortimer
      enshrined themselves in dominos for the remainder of the evening. The
      usual masquerade frolics and dancing were afterwards continued, and about
      five in the morning they left this region of fun, mirth and good humour.<span
      class="pagenum">[417]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link22HCH0011" id="link22HCH0011">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXVII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          That Life is a picture of strange things and ways,
          A grand exhibition, each hour displays;
          And for London there's no place can with it compare,
          'Tis a jumble of every thing curious and rare.
          Cheap-side Bustlers&mdash;Fleet Street Hustlers,
          Jockeys, Doctors&mdash;Agents, Proctors,
          Bow Street Slangups&mdash;Bond Street Bangups,
          Hide and Seekers&mdash;Opera Squeakers,
          Lawyers, Tailors&mdash;Bailiffs, Jailors,
          Shopmen, Butlers&mdash;Alderman Gutters,
          Patriot Talkers&mdash;Sunday Walkers,
          Dancers, Actors&mdash;Jews, Contractors,
          Placemen, Croakers&mdash;Boxers, Brokers,
          Swindlers, Coroners&mdash;Spies, and Foreigners,
          And all, all to keep up the bubble of strife,
          And prove ways and means&mdash;is the picture of Life.
</pre>
    <p>
      THE bustle and merriment of the Masquerade were long remembered in the
      mind of Bob Tallyho, and furnished frequent conversations between him and
      his Cousin; and the laughable occurrences of the evening, in which they
      had been engaged, were re-enjoyed in recollection, notwithstanding the
      preparations they were making for an excursion of another kind in the
      country, which though not exactly to the taste of Dashall, was inflexibly
      persevered in by Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom tried every effort in his power to prolong the appointed period of
      departure in A'ain. The heart and mind of his Cousin appeared to be
      occupied with anticipated delights, which he described in the most glowing
      colours of imagination. The healthful fields, the enlivening fox chase,
      and the sportive exercises of a country life, were detailed with ecstacy;
      and though last, not least, the additional zest for the more attractive
      scenes (in Tom's idea) that would present themselves for inspection upon a
      return to the Metropolis. At length it was finally arranged that their
      country excursion should not exceed <span class="pagenum">[418]</span> one
      month in duration, and that they would leave London time enough to reach
      Belville Hall on or before the first day of September.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall, after consenting to this arrangement, finding there was not much
      time to spare, was anxious to improve it in the pursuit of such lively and
      interesting amusements as chance and accident might throw in their way.
      "Come," said he, a few mornings after the masquerade, "it must not be said
      that you have been so long in London without viewing as many of its
      important curiosities as the time would admit; though I am sure we shall
      not have an opportunity of glancing at all those I could point out, and I
      am pretty sure that persons from the country frequently see more in a few
      days residence in the Metropolis, than those who have inhabited it for
      their whole lives. We will therefore take a stroll out, without any
      determined line of pursuit, and survey what chance may bring in our way;
      for the places deserving of particular inspection are so numerous, and lay
      in so many directions, that it is scarcely possible for us to turn round
      without finding some objects and subjects yet in store.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus saying, and taking the arm of his Cousin, they walked along
      Piccadilly in a direction for the City; for as it was a clear morning,
      Tom, although he had not mentioned the road he meant to take, still had an
      object in view.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is certainly much to be deplored," said he, as they were just entering
      Leicester Square by Sydney's Alley, "that the abominable nuisance of
      barrows being driven on the pavement cannot be removed; it is a great
      shame that lusty and able fellows should be wheeling foul linen, hogwash,
      and other filthy articles along the street, to the annoyance and
      inconvenience of pedestrians."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am of your opinion," replied his Cousin; "but during the short time I
      have been here, I have discovered many other equally objectionable
      annoyances. There is, for instance, the carrying of milk pails, which,
      unless great care is taken, are so likely to break people's shins; and in
      dirty weather the trundling of boys' hoops, to the discomfiture of many a
      well-dressed Lady."
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment a butcher was passing with a tray heavily loaded, and Bob
      narrowly escaped a blow from the projecting corner, which immediately
      induced him to add that to the number of what he termed street <span
      class="pagenum">[419]</span> grievances, and almost to overturn both the
      carrier and his load.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A lucky escape," said Dashall, "for you might have lost an eye by coming
      in contact with that tray, and I wonder a stop is not put to the
      probability of such fatal accidents. It is related that a certain City
      Alderman, whose constitution, it may be presumed, is rather of a
      combustible nature, by the alarms he spread during his mayoralty, of the
      intention to burn the City of London, and destroy all its peaceable
      inhabitants, thrashed a butcher who ran against him in the public street.
      This it must be admitted was a summary mode of punishment, although it was
      not likely to remove the nuisance; but there are still many that are not
      enumerated in your list. Both by day and night in the most frequented
      streets of the Metropolis and its environs, the unoffending passengers of
      either sex are frequently obstructed on, or absolutely pushed off the
      pavement by a trio of arm-in-arm puppies; nay they will sometimes sweep
      the whole of the space from the wall to the curb stone, by walking four
      abreast, a practice brutally infringing the laws of civil society in
      pedestrian excursions through a crowded Metropolis.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have however with pleasure, upon some occasions, seen these vile
      trespassers meet with a just resentment in the unexpected pugilistic
      exertions of the insulted party; and have almost rejoiced to see them
      packed into a coach and sent home with bruises, black eyes, and bloody
      noses, serving, it is to be hoped, as wholesome lessons for their future
      conduct. In some cases duels have arisen from this violation of decorum in
      the King's highway, and by this means, scoundrels have been admitted to
      the undeserved honour of being met on a level by gentlemen.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These," continued he, "are the polite encroachers on the pavé.. There
      are, however, many others, but of a less censurable, though certainly of a
      finable description; such as journeymen bakers wheeling barrows conveying
      the staff of life&mdash;publicans' boys collecting pewter pots&mdash;lady
      drivers of similar vehicles, containing oysters, inferior or damaged
      fruit, delicate prog for pug dogs, cats, &amp;c.
    </p>
    <p>
      "After all, the most prominent offenders, or at least obstructors of the
      public way, in my opinion, are those sturdy John Bulls, brewers' servants,
      by means of ropes <span class="pagenum">[420]</span> and pulleys affixed
      to their drays, lowering down beer into, or drawing up empty casks from
      the cellars of public-houses. Now although this may be unavoidable, ask
      one of these bluff bipeds to let you pass, the consequence frequently will
      be, instead of rough civility, an insolent reply accompanied with vulgar
      oaths; in short, a torrent of abuse, if not a shove into the kennel;
      perhaps a grimy rope thrown against your white stockings. Private,
      emolument and convenience certainly ought to give way to public
      accommodation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Confound that dustman's bell," said Bob, as they passed down Wych-street;
      "it is as bad as any thing we nave mentioned yet; it absolutely deafens
      one."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, if you call noises nuisances, we may go on with a list from this time
      to this day month, and scarcely comprehend them. The cries of London are
      many of them very laughable, and many very lamentable, and by way of
      contrast to the deafening dustman, take care of the bespatterings from the
      mud cart. The garlick-eating rogues, the drivers of these inconvenient
      conveniences, grinning horribly their ghastly smiles, enjoy a most
      malicious pleasure in the opportunities which chance affords them, of
      lending a little additional decoration from the contents of their carts,
      by way of embellishment to a cleanly dressed passenger. Therefore keep, if
      possible, at such a respectful distance as to avoid the effects of this
      low envy, and steer clear of the mudlarks."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had passed through the line of leading thoroughfares,
      and had St. Paul's in their view, when Tom took occasion to remark, "He
      was sorry the scaffolding was not removed, or," continued he, "we would
      soon have mounted above these petty considerations, and looked down upon
      the world. However, we can take a tolerable survey of the metropolis from
      the Monument, and as it is not much farther, we may as well extend our
      walk to that celebrated pillar, said to be one of the finest in the world,
      and erected by Sir Christopher Wren in memory of the great fire which in
      1666 broke out at a house on the spot, and destroyed the metropolis from
      Tower Hill to Temple Bar. From this pillar you will have a fine panoramic
      view of London, Westminster, and Southwark; and as we are about to leave
      its noise, its bustle, and its inconveniences in a day or two, we may as
      well take a general survey."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[421]</span> Bob having signified his consent to
      this proposal, they made the best of their way to the Monument, where
      having deposited the customary entrance money with the door-keeper, they
      were allowed to ascend by the winding staircase to the top, when a
      prospect was presented to the eye of Tallyho, of which he could not have
      formed any previous conception. The view of the river as far as the eye
      could reach, each way, the moving of the boats, the bustle and activity of
      the streets, and the continued hum which arose to their ears, formed
      altogether a subject of delightful contemplation; while the appearance of
      being as it were suspended in the air, rendered it awful and terrific. Bob
      had almost grown giddy in his ascension, and for some time took care to
      keep a fast hold of the iron railings at top, in order to secure himself
      from falling; till Dashall drew from his pocket a telescope, and directed
      his attention to Greenwich Hospital, Shooter's Hill, and the public
      buildings at a distance, where they were scarcely discernible by the naked
      eye. Bob was delighted with the view of Greenwich Hospital, and the
      account which his Cousin gave him of the establishment; and upon
      descending they took a complete walk round this celebrated pillar, marking
      its decorations and reading the inscription.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is," said Tom, "a fluted column of the Doric order; the total height
      is 202 feet, the diameter at the base 15 feet, and the height of the
      column 120 feet; the cone at the top, with its urn, are 42 feet; the
      height of the massy pedestal is 40 feet; there are 345 steps inside; but,"
      continued he, ''it is really a great pity that this beautiful Monument
      should be in such a confined situation, for in a proper place it would
      form one of the most striking objects of the kind that architecture is
      capable of producing.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The inscription, it is true," continued Dashall, "had better be erased,
      it contains a libel, or more properly a lie, which almost contradicts
      itself, for no rational being can entertain the notion that the Catholics,
      or indeed any religious sect, could wilfully have perpetrated so horrible
      a deed as this pillar was intended to impute to them; nor can so much
      credit be given to human foresight as for it to be concluded that a fire,
      which broke out in a single house, could upon this, rather than upon other
      occasions, have extended its ravages in so extraordinary a manner.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[422]</span> While we arc on the spot we will take a
      peep at a curious piece of antiquity; not that I am so great a lover of
      such curiosities, but it would appear almost unpardonable for you to have
      been in London without seeing London Stone."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have heard of it," said Tallyho, "and if we are near, let us have a
      view."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come on then," said Dashall; "This same London Stone is at present fixed
      close under the south wall of St. Swithin's Church, Cannon Street. It has
      by some been supposed of British origin, a kind of solemn boundary, or
      some other object probably of a religious nature, which through every
      change and convulsion of the State has been preserved with reverential
      care. But this is the very place," said he.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob stared about him with surprise, to discover this curious and
      apparently valuable relic, without finding it, till at length his Cousin
      directed his attention to the spot, which at present is under a
      pitching-block, or resting-place for persons carrying heavy loads, and
      almost burst into laughter, for he had raised his Cousin's expectation by
      the previous description.
    </p>
    <p>
      "How!" said Tallyho, "and is this your curiosity?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Even so," replied Tom, "that is the celebrated London Stone; it formerly
      stood nearer the middle of the street, was placed deep in the ground, and
      strongly fixed with iron bars. According to account, the first mention of
      it was in the reign of Ethelstan, king of the West Saxons, and it has been
      usually viewed by our antiquaries as a military stone, from which the
      Romans began the computation of their miles, a conjecture which certainly
      appears very reasonable, not only from the discovery of the Roman road
      after the year 1666, running directly to this stone from Watling Street,
      but from the exact coincidence which its distance bears with the
      neighbouring station, mentioned in Antonine's Itinerary, the principal of
      whose Journeys either begin or end with London."
    </p>
    <p>
      The sound of a horn interrupted this conversation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Apropos," said Tom, "we can take the Post Office in our way, a place of
      considerable importance; so allons."
    </p>
    <p>
      They now pursued their way to Lombard Street.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This collection of buildings," said Dashall, as they entered, "important
      as its concerns are to the nation, claims no praise as a building. It
      stands behind Lombard <span class="pagenum">[423]</span> Street, from
      which, on the south side of the street, there is a passage leading to it,
      under an arched gateway.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A plan has, however, been adopted for erecting a building worthy of this
      great establishment, on the site now called St. Martin's-le-grand, and to
      improve the access to it by pulling down the east ends of Newgate Street
      and Paternoster-Row. It is now proceeding rapidly.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Post-office system is, however, one of the most perfect regulations
      of finance and convenience existing under any government. It has gradually
      been brought to its present perfection, being at first in the hands of
      individuals, and replete with abuses. In its present form it not only
      supplies the government with a great revenue, but accomplishes that by
      means highly beneficial to the persons contributing.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Post-office is the most important spot on the surface of the globe.
      It receives information from all countries; it distributes instructions to
      the antipodes; it connects together more numerous and distant interests of
      men than any similar establishment. It is in the highest degree hitherto
      realized, the seat of terrestrial perception and volition&mdash;the brain
      of the whole earth; and hitherto it has been in a narrow valley, misshapen
      even to deformity, and scarcely accessible to the few mail coaches which
      collect there for their nightly freights.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The present Post-office was erected in 1660; but great additions have
      been made to it from time to time, though the whole is disjointed and
      inconvenient.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The mode of carrying letters by the General Post was greatly improved a
      few years since, by a most admirable plan, invented by Mr. Palmer.
      Previously to its adoption, letters were conveyed by carts, without
      protection from robbery, and subject to delays. At present they are
      carried, according to Mr. Palmer's plan, by coaches, distinguished by the
      name of mail-coaches, provided with a well-armed guard, and forwarded at
      the rate of eight miles an hour, including stoppages. Government contracts
      with coach-keepers merely for carrying the mail, the coach-owner making a
      profitable business besides, of carrying passengers and parcels. It is not
      easy to imagine a combination of different interests to one purpose, more
      complete than this. The wretched situation, however, of the horses, on
      account of the length of the stages which they are frequently driven, is a
      disgrace to the character <span class="pagenum">[424]</span> of the
      British nation, and requires the interference of the legislature. No stage
      should exceed twelve miles in length.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The rapidity of this mode of conveyance is unequalled in any country, and
      the present rate of charge for each passenger is little more than sixpence
      per mile.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Houses having boxes, for receiving letters before five o'clock, are open
      in every part of the Metropolis; and after that hour bell-men collect the,
      letters during another hour, receiving a fee of one 'penny for each
      letter. But, at the General Post-office, in Lombard Street, letters are
      received till seven o'clock: after which time, till half an hour after
      seven, a fee of sixpence must be paid; and from half after seven till a
      quarter before eight, the postage must also be paid, as well as the fee of
      sixpence."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," said Tallyho, "for a place of such public utility and constant
      resort, I must confess I expected to see a building of the most
      magnificent kind; but I am also puzzled to conceive how such extensive
      business can be carried on with so much regularity as it is."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your observation," replied his Cousin, "exactly coincides with that of
      many others; but you will some day or other be as much surprised on other
      subjects, for there are places in London where mercantile and legal
      business is conducted in situations of obscurity, of which you can have no
      conception; but as a national establishment, though its internal
      regulations are good, its external appearance is no recommendation to it.
      But come, let us proceed towards home, I have a call or two to make on the
      road, for as we depart quickly for the open fields, and are to bid adieu
      to London smoke as well as London Stone, we have but little time to spare,
      so let us post away."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob, alive to this subject, did not require a second hint, but taking the
      arm of Dashall, they proceeded along Cheapside, made a call at Mortimer's,
      the Gun-smith's on Ludgate hill, provided themselves with all necessary
      shooting apparatus; and Tom, ever mindful of the variety which he
      conceived would be needful to render rusticity agreeable on their way,
      purchased a pair of boxing gloves, a backgammon board, and other amusing
      articles, to provide, as he said, against a rainy day.
    </p>
    <p>
      On arrival at home, they were presented with a letter from Sparkle,
      announcing his arrival at his new mansion, and expressing a hope that he
      should have the pleasure of <span class="pagenum">[425]</span> meeting his
      friends within a day or two; expatiating with great apparent delight upon
      the happiness of his own situation, and promising lots of amusement, in
      detailing to them the events of his peregrinations. This operated as an
      additional spur to the speed of their departure, and it was agreed that
      they should start the next morning.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I don't know," said Bob, "whether I should really like a continued Life
      in London; I have seen many of its comforts and many of its
      inconveniences." "Then," replied Tom, "you may certainly, by the exercise
      of your reason, and the decision of your judgment, upon mature reflection,
      strike the balance; and if you do not give it in favour of the former, I
      shall entertain doubts upon your sagacity."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," continued Bob, "I shall now have a fine opportunity for drawing
      out a distinct account, and when done, I will submit the result to your
      inspection."
    </p>
    <p>
      Every thing being prepared, they were on the road to Belville Hall at an
      early hour the next morning.
    </p>
    <p>
      As the occurrences of a Country excursion, or the delineation of a Country
      Life, form no part of the intended plan of this Work, we shall not enter
      into any detailed account; but leaving our Heroes in the pursuit of fresh
      game, under new circumstances, and in somewhat new situations, bear in our
      minds their intended return, to engage, contemplate, and enjoy a future
      review of the complicated, yet ever new and ever varying scenes of a Real
      Life in London, with a determination to meet them on arrival, and not lose
      sight of them in their future rambles.
    </p>
    <p>
      END OF VOL. I. <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="London_spines (64K)" src="images/London_spines.jpg" /> <br />
      <br />
    </div>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="titlpage_vol2 (87K)" src="images/titlpage_vol2.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h1>
      REAL LIFE IN LONDON, VOLUME II.
    </h1>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      Detailed Contents
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     Chapter I.

     A return to the metropolis, 2. Instance of exorbitant
     charges, 3. Field-marshal Count Bertrand, 4. Lines on the
     late Napoleon, 5. A mysterious vehicle, 6. The devil in Long
     Acre, 7. The child in the hay, 8. A family triumvirate, 9.
     Egyptian monuments, 10. Relations of Gog and Magog
     discovered, 11. The Theban ram, 12. Egyptian antiquities,
     13. Egyptian mummies, &amp;c. 14. Curiosities of the museum, 15.
     Statues of Bedford and Fox, 16. The knowing one deceived,
     17. Covent Garden Market, 18. Miss Linwood's exhibition, 19.

     Chapter II.

     Tothill-fields Bridewell, 20. Perversion of justice, 21. A
     laudable resolution, 22. Success and disappointment, 23. A
     story out of the face, 24. A critical situation, 25. A hair-
     breadth escape, 26. Kidnappers, or crimps, 27. Summary
     justice averted, 28. Swindling manoeuvres, 29. Estates, &amp;c.
     in nubibus, 30. Fetters and apathy, 31. Urchin thief
     picking-pockets, 32. Juvenile depravity, 33.

     Chapter III.

     Life in St. George's Fields, 34. Chums&mdash;Day rules, &amp;c. 35.
     Hiring a horse&mdash;A bolter, 36. Characters of Abbot's priory,
     37. Introductory sketch, 38. The flying pieman, 39.
     Commercial activity, 40. A cutting joke, 41. Magdalen
     Hospital, 42. Curious anecdote, 43. Surrey Theatre, &amp;c, 44.
     Admixture of characters, &amp;c. 45.

     Chapter IV.

     Entry to Abbott's park, 46. A world within walls, 47.
     Finding a friend at home, 48. Exterior of the chapel, 49. A
     finish to education, 50. The walking automaton, 51. The
     parliamentary don, 52. The tape merchant, &amp;c. 53. A morning
     in the Bench, 54. Prison metamorphoses, 55. Friendly
     congratulations, 56. Preparations for a turn to, 57. The
     college cries, 58. Another real character, 59. A mutual
     take-in, 60. A college dinner, 61. Free from college rules,
     62. A heavy-wet party, 63. Keeping the game alive, 64. An
     agreeable surprise, 65. Harmony disturbed, 66.

     Chapter V.

     London munificence, 67. Vauxhall Bridge, 68. Millbank
     Penitentiary, 69. Metamorphoses of time, 70. Cobourg
     Theatre, 71. Retrospection, 72. Intellectual progress, 73.
     Wonders of the moderns, 74. Bridge-Street association, 75.
     Infidel pertinacity, 76. City coffee house, 77. St. Paul's
     Cathedral, 78. Clockwork and great bell, 79. Serious
     cogitations disturbed, 80. A return homeward, 81.

     Chapter VI.

     Westminster Abbey, 82. Monuments&mdash;Poets' corner, 83. Henry
     Seventh's chapel, 84. Interesting prospect, 85. Fees exacted
     for admission, 86. Westminster Hall&mdash;Whitehall, 87. Sir
     Robert Wilson, 88. Temptations to depredation, 89. Sympathy
     excited, 90. A sad story strangely told, 91. Fleet Street&mdash;
     Doctor Johnson, 92. Fleet Market, 93. The market in an
     uproar, 94. The rabbit pole-girl, 95. Princess of
     Cumberland, 96. Doubts of royal legitimacy, 97. Mud-larks,
     picking up a living, 98. The boil'd beef house, 99. A
     spunger, 100. Gaol of Newgate, 101. Jonathan Wild's
     residence, 102. Entering the Holy Land, 103. The Holy Land,
     104. Salt herrings and dumplings, 105. Deluge of beer, 106.
     Mrs. C*r*y, 107. Andrew Whiston, 108.

     Chapter VII.

     A dinner party, 109. Complimentary song, 110. Irish posting,
     111. Extraordinary robbery, 112. Follies of fashion&mdash;ennui,
     113. A set-to in a gambling house, 114. A nunnery&mdash;the Lady
     abbess, 115. Life in a cellar, 116. Advantageous offer
     rejected, 117. "Bilge water not whiskey," 118. Aqua fortis
     and aqua fifties, 119. A quarrel&mdash;appeal to justice, 120.
     Finale of a long story, 121.

     Chapter VIII.

     An unexpected visitor, 122. Private accommodations, 123. The
     hero of Waterloo, 124. "The lungs of the metropolis," 125.
     How to cut up a human carcass. 126. Resurrectionists, 127. A
     perambulation of discovery, 128. Irish recognition, 129. A
     discovery&mdash;Mother Cummings, 130. Wife hunting, 131.
     Elopement, 132. Female instability, 133. Manouvres Return to
     town, 134. Making the most of a good thing, 135. Ingenious
     female shop-lifter, 136.

     Chapter IX.

     Thieves of habit and necessity, 137. A felicitous meeting,
     138. Shopping&mdash;Ludicrous anecdote, 139. A tribute of
     respect, 140. Royal waxworks, Fleet Street, 141. Sir Felix
     as Macbeth, 142. Irish love, 143. Apathy in the midst of
     danger, 144. "No wassel in the lob," 145. The bear at
     Kensington Palace, 146.

     Chapter X.

     A change of pursuits, 147. Almack's Rooms, 148. A fancy-
     dress ball, 149. Selection of partners, 150. Family
     portraits, 151. A rout and routed, 152. Pleasures of
     matrimony, 153. The discomfited Virtuoso, 154.

     Chapter XI.

     Frolics of Greenwich fair, 155. Dr. Eady&mdash;Wall chalking,
     156. Packwood and puffing, 157. Greenwich Hospital, 158.
     Greenwich pensioners, 159. Veterans at ease, 160. The old
     commodore, 161. "Fought his battles o'er again," 162. The
     Chapel&mdash;Hall, &amp;e. 163.

     Chapter XII.

     An early hour in Piccadilly, 164. Cleopatra's needle, 165. A
     modest waterman, 166. Interesting scenery, 167. Philosophy
     in humble life, 168. Southwark Bridge, 169. London Bridge-
     The Shades, 170. Itinerant musicians, 171. "Do not leave
     your goods," 172. Riches of Lombard Street, 173. Mansion
     House, 174. Curious case in justice room, 175. A reasonable
     proposition, 176.

     Chapter XIII.

     An hour in the Sessions House, 177. A piteous tale of
     distress, 178. Low life, 179. Serious business, 180. A
     capture, 181. Johnny-raws and green-horns, 182. Decker the
     prophet, 183. A devotee in danger, 184.

     Chapter XIV.

     A morning at home, 185. High life, 186. Converting felony
     into debt, 187. Scene in a madhouse, 188. Apathy of
     undertakers, 189. A provident undertaker, 190. A bribe
     rejected, 191. Antiquated virginity, 192. Arrangements for
     Easter, 193. A Sunday morning lounge, 194. Setting out for
     Epping hunt, 195. Involuntary flight, 196. Motley groups on
     the road, 197. Disasters of cockney sportsmen, 198. A
     beautiful crature of sixty, 199. Tothill-fields fair, 200.
     Whimsical introduction, 201. Ball at the Mansion-House, 202.

     Chapter XV.

     Guildhall, 203. Palace Yard&mdash;Relieving Guard, 204. The
     regions below, 205. An old friend in the dark, 206. Seeing
     clear again, 207. A rattler, 208.

     Chapter XVI.

     Civic festivity, 209. Guildhall, 210. Council chamber&mdash;
     Paintings, 211. City public characters, 212. A modern
     Polyphemus, 213. A classic poet, 214. Rhyming contagious,
     215. Smithfield prad-sellers, 216. Jockeyship in the east,
     217. A peep at the Theatre, 218. The Finish, Covent Garden,
     219. Wags of the Finish, 220. Smoking and joking, 222.

     Chapter XVII.

     A morning visit, 223. The fine arts, 224. Public
     exhibitions, 225. Living artists, 226. Horse Guards&mdash;
     Admiralty, 227. Westminster Bridge, 228. Promenade Rooms,
     229. Improvements in the Park, 230. Ludicrous anecdote, 231.
     A crazy fabric, 232. Regal splendour, 233. Marlborough
     House, 234. Limmer's Hotel, 235. Laconic prescription, 236.
     How to take it all, 237. How to get a suit of clothes, 238.
     Ingenious swindling, 239. Talent perverted, 240.

     Chapter XVIII.

     The Harp, Drury Lane, 241. Wards of city of Lushington, 242.
     The social compact, 243. A popular election, 244. Close of
     the poll, 245. Oratorical effusions, 246. Harmony and
     conviviality, 247. Sprees of the Market, 248. A lecture on
     heads, 249. A stroll down Drury Lane, 250. A picture of real
     characters, 251. "The burning shame," 253. Ludicrous
     procession, 254.

     Chapter XIX.

     An old friend returned, 255. A good object in view, 256. An
     alarming situation, 257. Choice of professions, 258. Pursuit
     of fortune, 259. Advantages of law, 260. A curious law case,
     261. Further arrangements, 262.

     Chapter XX.

     St. George's day, 263. Royalty on the wing, 264. Progress to
     the levee, 265. An unfortunate apothegm, 266. How to adjust
     a quarrel, 267. Wisdom in wigs, 268. A classical
     acquaintance, 269. Royal modesty, 270. Ludicrous anecdote,
     271. A squeeze in the drawing-room, 272. Pollution of the
     sanctorum, 273. Procession of mail coaches, &amp;c. 274. A
     parody, 275. Two negatives make a positive, 276. Remarkable
     anecdote, 277. Marrow-bones and cleavers, 278. The king and
     the laureat, 279. A remonstrance, 280. Hint at retrenchment,
     281.

     Chapter XXI.

     Diversity of opinions, 282. A fresh start, 283. A critique
     on names, 284. The Cafe Royale, Regent Street, 285. A
     singular character, 286. Quite inexplicable, 287.
     Development, 288. Aquatic excursion, 289. A narrow escape,
     290. Tower of London, 291. The lost pilot found, 295. River
     gaiety, 296. Rowing match, 297.

     Chapter XXII.

     The tame hare, 298. Ingenuity of man, 299. London sights and
     shows, 300. Automaton chess player, 301. South sea bubble,
     302. New City of London tavern, 303. Moorfields, 304.
     Epitaph collector, 305. Monumental gleanings, 307.
     Voluminous collectors, 309. A horned cock, 310.
     Extraordinary performance, 311. Female salamander, 312.
     Regent's Canal, 313. Anecdote of a gormandizer, 314. Eating
     a general officer alive, 315. A field orator, 316.

     Chapter XXIII.

     Munster simplicity, 317. A visit to an astrologer, 318. A
     peep into futurity, 319. Treading-mill, 320. An unexpected
     occurrence, 321. The sage taken in, 322. Statue of ill luck,
     323. A concatenation of exquisites, 324. How to walk the
     streets, 325. How to make a thoroughfare, 326. Dog stealers,
     327. Canine knavery, 328. A vexatious affair, 329. How to
     recruit your finances, 330. A domestic civic dinner, 331.
     The very respectable man, 332.

     Chapter XXIV.

     Vauxhall Gardens, 334, Various amusements, 335. Sober
     advice, 336. Fashionable education, 337. University
     education, 338. Useful law proceedings, 339. How to punish a
     creditor, 340. Exalted characters, 341. Profligacy of a
     peer, 342. Mr. Spankalong, 343. Other characters of ton,
     344. Sprig of fashion, 345. An everlasting prater, 346. And
     incorrigible fribble, 347. Kensington Gardens and Park, 348.
     Statue of Achilles, 349.

     Chapter XXV.

     A medley of characters, 353. Fashionables, 354. More
     fashionables, 355. More life in St. Giles's, 356.
     Reconnoitring&mdash;a discovery, 357. Tragedy prevented, 358.
     Fat, fair, and forty, 359. Philosophic coxcombs, 360 Blanks
     in society, 361.

     Chapter XXVI.

     A ride, 362. Exceptions to trade rivalship, 363. Effects of
     superior education, 364. Affectation in names, 365.
     Portraits of governesses, 366. Road to matrimony, 367.
     Villainy of private madhouses, 369. Appearances may deceive,
     370.

     Chapter XXVII.

     Pleasing intelligence, 371. Moralizing a little, 373. Cries
     of London, 374. The Blacking Poet, 375. Literary squabble
     376. Curious Merchandise, 377.

     Chapter XXVIII.

     A new object of pursuit, 378. Royal visit to Scotland, 379.
     Embarkation, 381. Royal recollections, 38'2.

     Chapter XXIX.

     Port of London, 383. Descriptive entertainment, 384. A rea
     swell party, 385. An Irish dancing master, 386. Female
     disaster, 387. Blackwall&mdash;East India Docks, 388. Sir Robert
     Wigram, 389. Domestic happiness, 390. West India Docks, 391.
     Loudon Docks, 393. News from home, 394.

     Chapter XXX.

     Travelling preparations, 395. Whimsical associations, 396.
     Antiquity and origin of signs, 397. Signs of altered times,
     398. Ludicrous corruptions, 399. A curious metamorphosis,
     400. A sudden breeze, 401. A smell of powder, 402.

     Chapter XXXI.

     An unexpected visitor, 403. Sketches of fashionable life,
     404. A Corinthian rout, 405. A Corinthian dinner party, 406.
     A new picture of real life, 409. More wise men of the East,
     411.

     Chapter XXXII.

     Anticipation of danger, 415. Smoke without fire, 416.
     Fonthill Abbey, 417. Instability of fortune, 419. Wealth
     without ostentation, 420. Eccentricity of character, 421.
     Extremes meeting, 422.

     Chapter XXXIII.

     Sketches of new scenes, 423. A critical essay on taste, 424.
     The pleasures of the table, 425. A whimsical exhibition,
     426. Canine sobriety, 427.

     Chapter XXXIV.

     Anticipation, 428. Obligation, 429. Change of subjects, 430
     Magasin de Mode, 431. Bell, Warwick Lane, 432. Bull and
     Mouth Street, 433. Bull and Mouth Inn, 434. Jehu chaff, 435.
     Adieu to London, 436.
</pre>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      REAL LIFE IN LONDON
    </h2>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0001" id="link32HCH0001">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER I
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          With what unequal tempers are we form'd!
          One day the soul, elate and satisfied,
          Revels secure, and fondly tells herself
          The hour of evil can return no more:
          The next, the spirit, pall'd and sick of riot,
          Turns all to discord, and we hate our being,
          Curse our past joys, and think them folly all.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[1]</span>MATTER and motion, say Philosophers, are
      inseparable, and the doctrine appears equally applicable to the human
      mind. Our country Squire, anxious to testify a grateful sense of the
      attentions paid him during his London visit, had assiduously exerted
      himself since his return, in contributing to the pleasures and amusements
      of his visitors; and Belville Hall presented a scene of festive
      hospitality, at once creditable to its liberal owner, and gratifying to
      the numerous gentry of the surrounding neighbourhood.
    </p>
    <p>
      But however varied and numerous the sports and recreations of rural life,
      however refined and select the circle of its society, they possessed not
      the endless round of metropolitan amusement, nor those ever-varying
      delights produced amid "the busy hum of men," where every street is
      replete with incident and character, and every hour fraught with
      adventure.
    </p>
    <p>
      Satiety had now evidently obtruded itself amid the party, and its
      attendants, lassitude and restlessness, were not long in bringing up the
      rear. The impression already made upon the mind of Bob by the cursory view
      he had taken of Life in London was indelible, and it required little
      persuasion on the part of his cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall, to induce him
      again to return to scenes of so much delight, and which afforded such
      inexhaustible stores of amusement to an ardent and youthful curiosity.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[2]</span>A return to the Metropolis having
      therefore been mutually agreed upon, and every previous arrangement being
      completed, the Squire once more abdicated for a season his paternal
      domains, and accompanied by his cousin Dashall, and the whole <i>ci-devant</i>
      party of Belville Hall, arrived safe at the elegant mansion of the latter,
      where they planned a new system of perambulation, having for its object a
      further investigation of manners, characters, objects, and incidents,
      connected with <i>Real Life in London</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," cried Dashall, one fine morning, starting up immediately after
      breakfast&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;rouse for fresh game, and away let us haste,
          The regions to roam of wit, fashion, and taste;
          Like Quixote in quest of adventures set out,
          And learn what the crowds in the streets are about;
          And laugh when we must, and approve when we can,
          Where London displays ev'ry feature of man."
</pre>
    <p>
      "The numerous hotels, bagnios, taverns, inns, coffee-houses,
      eating-houses, lodging-houses, &amp;c. in endless variety, which meet the
      eye in all parts of the metropolis, afford an immediate choice of
      accommodation, as well to the temporary sojourner as the permanent
      resident; where may be obtained the necessaries and luxuries of life,
      commensurate with your means of payment, from one shilling to a guinea for
      a dinner, and from sixpence to thirty shillings a night for a lodging!
    </p>
    <p>
      "The stranger recommended to one of these hotels, who regales himself
      after the fatigues of a journey with moderate refreshment, and retires to
      rest, and preparing to depart in the morning, is frequently surprised at
      the longitudinal appearance and sum total of his bill, wherein every item
      is individually stated, and at a rate enormously extravagant. Remonstrance
      is unavailable; the charges are those common to the house, and in failure
      of payment your luggage is under detention, without the means of redress;
      ultimately the bill must be paid, and the only consolation left is, that
      you have acquired a useful, though expensive lesson, how to guard in
      future against similar exaction and inconvenience."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Marlborough Street.&mdash;Yesterday, Mrs. Hickinbottom, the
     wife of Mr. Hickinbottom, the keeper of the St. Petersburgh
     Hotel in Dover Street, Piccadilly, appeared to a summons to
     answer the complaint of a gentleman for unlawfully detaining
     his luggage under the following circumstances: The
     complainant stated, that on Thursday evening last, on his
     arrival in town from Aberdeen, he went to the White Horse
     Cellar, Piccadilly; but the house being full, he was
     recommended to the St. Petersburgh Hotel in Dover Street;
     where, having taken some refreshment and wrote a letter, he
     went to bed, and on the following morning after break-fast,
     he desired the waiter to bring him his bill, which he did,
     and the first item that presented itself was the moderate
     charge of one pound ten shillings for his bed; and then
     followed, amongst many others, sixpence for a pen, a
     shilling for wax, a shilling for the light, and two and
     sixpence for other lights; so that the bill amounted in the
     whole to the sum of two pounds one shilling for his night's
     lodging! To this very exorbitant charge he had refused to
     submit; in consequence of which he had been put to great
     inconvenience by the detention of his luggage. The
     magistrate animadverted with much severity on such
     extravagant charges on the part of the tavern-keeper, and
     advised that upon the gentleman paying fifteen shillings,
     the things might be immediately delivered up. To these
     terms, however, Mrs. Hickinbottom refused to accede, adding
     at the same time, that the gentleman had only been charged
     the regular prices of the house, and that she should insist
     upon the whole amount of the bill being paid, for that the
     persons who were in the habit of coming to their house never
     objected to such, the regular price of their lodgings being
     ten guineas per week! The magistrate lamented that he had
     no power to enforce the things being given up, but he
     recommended the complainant to bring an action against the
     tavern-keeper for the detention.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[3]</span> These were the observations directed by
      Dashall to his friend, as they passed, one morning, the <i>Hotel de la
      Sabloniere</i> in Leicester Square.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Doubtless," he continued, "in those places of affluent resort, the
      accommodations are in the first style of excellence; yet with reference to
      comfort and sociability, were I a country gentleman in the habit of
      occasionally visiting London, my temporary domicile should be the snug
      domesticated Coffee-house, economical in its charges and pleasurable in
      the variety of its visitors, where I might, at will, extend or abridge my
      evening intercourse, and in the retirement of my own apartment feel myself
      more at home than in the vacuum of an hotel."
    </p>
    <p>
      The attention of our perambulators, in passing through the Square, was
      attracted by a fine boy, apparently about eight years of age, dressed in
      mourning, who, at the door of Brunet's Hotel, was endeavouring with all
      his little strength and influence to oppose the egress of a large
      Newfoundland dog, that, indignant of restraint, seemed desirous in a
      strange land of introducing himself to <span class="pagenum">[4]</span>
      canine good fellowship. The boy, whose large dark eyes were full of
      animation, and his countenance, though bronzed, interestingly expressive,
      remonstrated with the dog in the French language. "The animal does not
      understand you," exclaimed Tallyho, in the vernacular idiom of the youth,
      "Speak to him in English." "He must be a clever dog," answered the boy,
      "to know English so soon, for neither him nor I have been in England above
      a week, and for the first time in our lives."&mdash;"And how is it," asked
      Tallyho, "that you speak the English language so fluently?" "O," said the
      little fellow, "my mother taught it me; she is an English woman, and for
      that reason I love the English, and am much fonder of talking their
      language than my own." There was something extremely captivating in the
      boy. The dog now struggling for freedom was nearly effecting his release,
      when the two friends interposed their assistance, and secured the
      pre-meditating fugitive at the moment when, to inquire the cause of the
      bustle, the father of the child made his appearance in the person of Field
      Marshal Count Bertrand. The Count, possessing all the characteristics of a
      gentleman, acknowledged politely the kind attention of the strangers to
      his son, while, on the other hand, they returned his obeisance with the
      due respect excited by his uniform friendship and undeviating attachment
      to greatness in adversity. The discerning eye of Field Marshal Bertrand
      justly appreciated the superior rank of the strangers, to whom he
      observed, that during the short period he had then been in England, he had
      experienced much courtesy, of which he should always retain a grateful
      recollection. This accidental interview was creative of reciprocal
      satisfaction, and the parties separated, not without an invitation on the
      part of the boy, that his newly found acquaintances would again visit the
      "friends of the Emperor."{1}<span class="pagenum">[5]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          1 LINES SUPPOSED TO  HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY
          THE  EX-EMPEROR NAPOLEON  IN  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.

          Too slowly the tide of existence recedes
          For him in captivity destined to languish,
          The Exile, abandon'd of fortune, who needs
          The friendship of Death to obliviate his anguish.
          Yet, even his last moments unmet by a sigh,
          Napoleon the Great uncomplaining shall die!

          Though doom'd on thy rock, St. Helena, to close
          My life, that once presag'd ineffable glory,
          Unvisited here though my ashes repose,
          No tablet to tell the lone Exile's sad story,&mdash;
          Napoleon Buonaparte&mdash;still shall the name
          Exist on the records immortal of Fame!

          Posterity, tracing the annals of France,
          The merits will own of her potent defender;
          Her greatness pre-eminent skill'd to advance,
          Creating, sustaining, her zenith of splendour;
          Who patroniz'd arts, and averted alarms,
          Till crush'd by the union of nations in arms!

          I yield to my fate! nor should memory bring
          One moment of fruitless and painful reflection
          Of what I was lately&mdash;an Emperor and King,
          Unless for the bitter, yet fond recollection
          Of those, who my heart's best endearments have won,
          Remote from my death-bed&mdash;my Consort and SON!

          Denied in their arms even to breathe my last sigh,
          No relatives' solace my exit attending;
          With strangers sojourning, 'midst strangers I die,
          No tear of regret with the last duties blending.
          To him, the lorn Exile, no obsequies paid,
          Whose fiat a Universe lately obey'd!

          Make there then my tomb, where the willow trees wave,
          And, far in the Island, the streamlet meanders;
          If ever, by stealth, to my green grassy grave
          Some kind musing spirit of sympathy wanders&mdash;
          "Here rests," he will say, "from Adversity's pains,
          Napoleon Buonaparte's mortal remains!"

     We have no disposition to enter into the character of the
     deceased Ex-Emperor; history will not fail to do justice
     alike to the merits and the crimes of one, who is inevitably
     destined to fill so portentous a page on its records. At the
     present time, to speak of the good of which he may have been
     either the intentional or the involuntary instrument,
     without some bias of party feeling would be impossible.

          "Hard is his fate, on whom the public gaze
          Is fix'd for ever, to condemn or praise;
          Repose denies her requiem to his name,
          And folly loves the martyrdom of fame."

     At all events, he is now no more; and "An English spirit
     wars not with the dead."
</pre>
    <p>
      "The Count," said Dashall to his Cousin, as they pursued their walk,
      "remains in England until he obtain <span class="pagenum">[6]</span>
      permission from the King of France to return to his native country: that
      such leave will be given, there is little doubt; the meritorious fidelity
      which the Count has uniformly exemplified to his late unfortunate and
      exiled Master, has obtained for him universal esteem, and the King of
      France is too generous to withhold, amidst the general feeling, his
      approbation."
    </p>
    <p>
      Passing through Long Acre in their progress towards the British Museum, to
      which national establishment they had cards of admission, the two friends
      were intercepted in their way by a concourse at a coach-maker's shop,
      fronting which stood a chariot carefully matted round the body, firmly
      sewed together, and the wheels enveloped in hay-bands, preparatory to its
      being sent into the country. Scarcely had these precautionary measures of
      safety been completed, when a shrill cry, as if by a child inside the
      vehicle, was heard, loud and continuative, which, after the lapse of some
      minutes, broke out into the urgent and reiterated exclamation of&mdash;"Let
      me out!&mdash;I shall be suffocated!&mdash;pray let me out!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The workmen, who had packed up the carriage, stared at each other in mute
      and appalling astonishment; they felt conscious that no child was within
      the vehicle; and when at last they recovered from the stupor of amazement,
      they resisted the importunity of the multitude to strip the chariot, and
      manfully swore, that if any one was inside, it must be the Devil himself,
      or one of his imps, and no human or visible being whatsoever.
    </p>
    <p>
      Some, of the multitude were inclined to a similar opinion. The crowd
      increased, and the most intense interest was depicted in every
      countenance, when the cry of "Let me out!&mdash;I shall die!&mdash;For
      heaven's sake let me out!" was audibly and vehemently again and again
      repeated.
    </p>
    <p>
      The impatient multitude now began to cut away the matting; when the
      workmen, apprehensive that the carriage might sustain some damage from the
      impetuosity of their proceedings, took upon themselves the act of
      dismantling the mysterious machine; during which operation, the cry of
      "Let me out!" became more and more clamorously importunate. At last the
      vehicle was laid bare, and its door thrown open; when, to the utter
      amazement of the crowd, no child was there&mdash;no trace was to be seen
      of aught, human or super-human! The <span class="pagenum">[7]</span>
      assemblage gazed on the vacant space from whence the sounds had emanated,
      in confusion and dismay. During this momentary suspense, in which the
      country 'Squire participated, a voice from some invisible agent, as if
      descending the steps of the carriage, exclaimed&mdash;"Thank you, my good
      friends, I am very much obliged to you&mdash;I shall now go home, and
      where my home is you will all know by-and-by!"
    </p>
    <p>
      With the exception of Dashall and Tallyho, the minds of the spectators,
      previously impressed with the legends of superstition and diablerie, gave
      way under the dread of the actual presence of his satanic majesty; and the
      congregated auditors of his ominous denunciation instantaneously dispersed
      themselves from the scene of witchery, and, re-assembling in groupes on
      distant parts of the street, cogitated and surmised <i>on the Devil's
      visit to the Coachmakers of Long Acre!</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho now turned an inquisitive eye on his Cousin, who answered the
      silent and anxious enquiry with an immoderate fit of laughter, declaring
      that this was the best and most ingenious hoax of any he had ever
      witnessed, and that he would not have missed, on any consideration
      whatsoever, the pleasure of enjoying it. "The Devil in Long Acre!&mdash;I
      shall never forget it," exclaimed the animated Cousin of the staring and
      discomfited 'Squire.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Explain, explain," reiterated the 'Squire, impatiently.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You shall have it in one word,"answered Dashall&mdash;"Ventriloquism!"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This hoax was actually practised by a Ventriloquist in the
     manner described. It certainly is of a less offensive nature
     than that of many others which have been successfully
     brought for-ward in the Metropolis, the offspring of folly
     and idleness.&mdash;"A fellow," some years ago, certainly not "of
     infinite humour," considering an elderly maiden lady of
     Berner Street a "fit and proper subject" on whom to
     exercise his wit, was at the trouble of writing a vast
     number of letters to tradesmen and others, magistrates and
     professional men, ordering from the former various goods,
     and requiring the advice, in a case of emergency, of the
     latter, appointing the same hour, to all, of attendance; so
     that, in fact, at the time mentioned, the street, to the
     annoy-ance and astonishment of its inhabitants, was crowded
     with a motley group of visitants, equestrian and pedestrian,
     all eagerly pressing forward to their destination, the old
     lady's place of residence. In the heterogeneous assemblage
     there were seen Tradesmen of all denominations, accompanied
     by their Porters, bearing various articles of household
     furniture; Counsellors anticipating fees; Lawyers engaged
     to execute the last will and testament of the heroine of the
     drama, and, not the least conspicuous, an Undertaker
     preceded by his man with a coffin; and to crown the whole,
     "though last not least in our esteem," the then Lord Mayor of
     London, who, at the eager desire of the old Lady, had, with
     a commendable feeling of humanity, left his civic dominions,
     in order to administer, in a case of danger and difficulty,
     his consolation and assistance. When, behold! the clue was
     unravelled, the whole turn'd out an hoax, and the Author
     still remains in nubibus!!!
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[8]</span> "And who could have been the artist?"
      enquired Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay," answered his friend, "that is impossible to say; some one in the
      crowd, but the secret must remain with himself; neither do I think it
      would have been altogether prudent his revealing it to his alarmed and
      credulous auditory."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A Ventriloquist," observed the 'Squire, "is so little known in the
      country, that I had lost all reminiscence of his surprising powers;
      however, I shall in future, from the occurrence of to-day, resist the
      obtrusion of superstition, and in all cases of 'doubtful dilemma' remember
      the Devil in Long Acre!"{l}
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well resolved," answered Dashall; and in a few minutes they gained Great
      Russel Street, Bloomsbury, without further incident or interruption.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The child in the hat.&mdash;Not long since, a Waggoner coming
     to town with a load of hay, was overtaken by a stranger, who
     entered into familiar conversation with him. They had not
     pro-ceeded far, when, to the great terror of Giles Jolt, a
     plaintive cry, apparently that of a child, issued from the
     waggon. "Didst hear that, mon?" exclaimed Giles. The cry was
     renewed&mdash;"Luord! Luord! an there be na a babe aneath the
     hay, I'se be hanged; lend us a hand, mon, to get un out, for
     God's sake!" The stranger very promptly assisted in
     unloading the waggon, but no child was found. The hay now
     lay in a heap on the road, from whence the cry was once more
     long and loudly reiterated! In eager research, Giles next
     proceeded to scatter the hay over the road, the cry still
     continuing; but when, at last, he ascertained that the
     assumed infantine plaint was all a delusion, his hair stood
     erect with horror, and, running rapidly from his companion,
     announced that he had been associated on the road by the
     Devil, for that none else could play him such a trick! It
     was not without great difficulty that the people to whom he
     told this strange story prevailed on him to return, at last,
     to his waggon and horses; he did so with manifest
     reluctance. To his indescribable relief, his infernal
     companion hail vanished in the person of the Ventriloquist,
     and Jolt still believes in the supernatural visitation!
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[9]</span> Amongst the literary and scientific
      institutions of the Metropolis, the British Museum, situated in Great
      Russel Street, Bloomsbury, stands pre-eminent.
    </p>
    <p>
      Entering the spacious court, our two friends found a party in waiting for
      the Conductor. Of the individuals composing this party, the reconnoitering
      eye of Dashall observed a trio, from whence he anticipated considerable
      amusement. It was a family triumvirate, formed of an old Bachelor, whose
      cent per cent ideas predominated over every other, wheresoever situated or
      howsoever employed; his maiden Sister, prim, starch and antiquated; and
      their hopeful Nephew, a complete coxcomb, that is, in full possession of
      the requisite concomitants&mdash;ignorance and impudence, and arrayed in
      the first style of the most exquisite dandyism. This delectable triumviri
      had emerged from their chaotic recess in Bearbinder-lane; the Exquisite,
      to exhibit his sweet person along with the other curiosities of the
      Museum; his maiden Aunt, to see, as she expressed it, the "<i>He-gipsyian
      munhuments, kivered with kerry-glee-fix</i>;" and her Brother, to
      ascertain whether, independent of outlandish baubles, gimcracks and
      gewgaws, there was any thing of substantiality with which to enhance the
      per contra side in the Account Current between the British Museum and the
      Public!
    </p>
    <p>
      Attaching themselves to this respectable trio, Dashall and Tallyho
      followed, with the other visitants, the Guide, whose duty it that day was
      to point out the various curiosities of this great national institution.
    </p>
    <p>
      The British Museum was established by act of parliament, in 1753, in
      pursuance of the will of Sir Hans Sloane, who left his museum to the
      nation, on condition that Parliament should pay 20,000L. to his Executors,
      and purchase a house sufficiently commodious for it. The parliament acted
      with great liberality on the occasion; several other valuable collections
      were united to that of Sir Hans Sloane, and the whole establishment was
      completed for the sum of 85,000L. raised by lottery. At the institution of
      this grand treasury of learning, it was proposed that a competent part of
      1800L. the annual sum granted by parliament for the support of the house,
      should be appropriated for the purchase of new books; but the salaries
      necessary for the officers, together with the contingent expenses, have
      always exceeded the allowance; so that the Trustees have been repeatedly
      <span class="pagenum">[10]</span> obliged to make application to defray
      the necessary charges.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mr. Timothy Surety, the before mentioned Bearbinder-lane resident, of cent
      per cent rumination; his accomplished sister, Tabitha; his exquisite
      nephew, Jasper; and the redoubtable heroes of our eventful history, were
      now associated in one party, and the remaining visitants were sociably
      amalgamated in another; and each having its separate Conductor, both
      proceeded to the inspection of the first and most valuable collection in
      the universe.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link3image-0001" id="link3image-0001">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page010.jpg" alt="Page10 British Museum " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      On entering the gate, the first objects which attracted attention were two
      large sheds, defending from the inclemency of the seasons a collection of
      Egyptian monuments, the whole of which were taken from the French at
      Alexandria, in the last war. The most curious of these, perhaps, is the
      large Sarcophagus beneath the shed to the left, which has been considered
      as the exterior coffin of Alexander the Great, used at his final
      interment. It is formed of variegated marble, and, as Mrs. Tabitha Surety
      observed, was "<i>kivered with Kerry-glee-fix</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nephew Jasper," said his Uncle, "you are better acquainted with the
      nomenclature, I think you call it, of them there <i>thing-um-bobs</i> than
      I am&mdash;what is the name of this here?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "My dear Sir," rejoined the Exquisite, "this here is called a <i>Sark o'
      Fegus</i>, implying the domicile, or rather, the winding-sheet of the
      dead, as the sark or chemise wound itself round the fair forms of the
      daughters of O'Fegus, a highland Chieftain, from whom descended Philip of
      Macedon, father of Alexander the Great; and thence originated the name
      subsequently given by the highland laird's successors, to the dormitory of
      the dead, the Sark o' Fegus, or in the corruption of modern orthography,
      Sarcophagus."
    </p>
    <p>
      Timothy Surety cast an approving glance towards his Nephew, and whispering
      Dashall, "My Nephew, Sir, apparently a puppy, Sir, but well informed,
      nevertheless&mdash;what think you of his definition of that hard word? Is
      he not, I mean my Nephew Jaz, a most extraordinary young man?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Superlatively so," answered Dashall, "and I think you are happy in
      bearing affinity to a young man of such transcendent acquirements."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[11]</span>"D&mdash;n his acquirements!" exclaimed
      Timothy; "would you think it, they are of no use in the way of trade, and
      though I have given him many an opportunity of doing well, he knows no
      more of keeping a set of books by double-entry, than Timothy Surety does
      of keeping a pack of hounds, who was never twenty miles beyond the hearing
      of Bow bells in all his lifetime!"
    </p>
    <p>
      This important communication, having been made apart from the recognition
      of the Aunt and Nephew, passed on their approach, unanswered; and Dashall
      and his friend remained in doubt whether or not the Nephew, in his late
      definition of the word Sarcophagus, was in jest or earnest: Tallyho
      inclined to think that he was hoaxing the old gentleman; on the other
      hand, his Cousin bethought himself, that the apparent ingenuity of Jaz's
      definition was attributable entirely to his ignorance.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here also were two statues of Roman workmanship, supposed to be those of
      Marcus Aurelius and Severus, ancient, but evidently of provincial
      sculpture.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mrs. Tabitha, shading her eyes with her fan, and casting a glance askew at
      the two naked figures, which exhibited the perfection of symmetry,
      enquired of her Nephew who they were meant to represent.
    </p>
    <p>
      His answer was equally eccentric with that accorded to his Uncle on the
      subject of the Sarcophagus.
    </p>
    <p>
      "My dear Madam!" said Jaz, "these two figures are consanguineous to those
      of Gog and Magog in Guildhall, being the lineal descendants of these
      mighty associates of the Livery of London!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "But, Jaz" rejoined the antique dame, "I always understood that Messieurs
      Gog and Magog derived their origin from quite a different family."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aunt of mine," responded Jaz, "the lofty rubicunded Civic Baronet shall
      not be 'shorn of his beams;' he claims the same honour with his brainless
      brothers before us-he is a scion of the same tree; Sir W*ll**m, the twin
      brothers of Guildhall, and these two sedate Gentlemen of stone, all boast
      the honour of the same extraction!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Behind them, on the right, was a ram's head of very curious workmanship,
      from Thebes.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Perhaps, Sir," said Mrs. Tabitha, graciously addressing herself to
      'Squire Tallyho, "you can inform us what may be the import of this
      singular exhibition?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "On my honour, Madam," answered the 'Squire, "I cannot satisfactorily
      resolve the enquiry; I am a country <span class="pagenum">[12]</span>
      gentleman, and though conversant with rains and rams' horns in my own
      neighbourhood, have no knowledge of them with reference to the connexion
      of the latter with the Citizens of London or Westminster!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Jaz again assumed the office of expositor.&mdash;"My very reverend Aunt,"
      said Jaz, "I must prolegomenize the required explanation with a simple
      anecdote:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "When Charles the Second returned from one of his northern tours,
      accompanied by the Earl of Rochester, he passed through Shoreditch. On
      each side the road was a huge pile of rams' horns, for what purpose
      tradition saith not. 'What is the meaning of all this?' asked the King,
      pointing towards the symbolics. 'I know not,' rejoined Rochester, 'unless
      it implies that the Citizens of London have laid their heads together, to
      welcome your Majesty's return!' In commemoration of this witticism, the
      ram's head is to the Citizens of London a prominent feature of exhibition
      in the British Museum."
    </p>
    <p>
      This interpretation raised a laugh at the expense of Timothy Surety, who,
      nevertheless, bore it with great good humour, being a bachelor, and
      consequently not within the scope of that ridicule on the basis of which
      was founded the present sarcastic fabric.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was now obvious to Dash all and his friend, that this young man, Jasper
      Surety, was not altogether the ignoramus at first presumed. They had
      already been entertained by his remarks, and his annotations were of a
      description to warrant the expectancy of further amusement in the progress
      of their inspection.
    </p>
    <p>
      From the hall the visitors were led through an iron gateway to the great
      staircase, opposite the bottom of which is preserved a model in mahogany,
      exhibiting the method used by Mr. Milne in constructing the works of
      Blackfriars' Bridge; and beneath it are some curious fragments from the
      Giant's Causeway in Ireland.
    </p>
    <p>
      These fragments, however highly estimated by the naturalist and the
      antiquary, were held in derision by the worldly-minded Tim. Surety, who
      exclaimed against the folly of expending money in the purchase of articles
      of no intrinsic value, calculated only to gratify the curiosity of those
      inquisitive idlers who affect their admiration of every uninteresting
      production of Nature, and neglect the pursuit of the main chance, so
      necessary in realizing the comforts of life.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[13]</span> These sordid ideas were opposed by
      Dashall and the 'Squire, to whom they seemed particularly directed. Mrs.
      Tabitha smiled a gracious acquiescence in the sentiments of the two
      strangers, and Jasper expressed his regret that Nuncle was not gifted and
      fated as Midas of ancient times, who transformed every thing that he
      touched into gold!
    </p>
    <p>
      The Egyptian and Etruscan antiquities next attracted the attention of the
      visitors. Over a doorway in this room is a fine portrait of Sir William
      Hamilton, painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds. Dashall and Tallyho remarked
      with enthusiasm on these beautiful relics of the sculpture of former ages,
      several of which were mutilated and disfigured by the dilapidations of
      time and accident. Of the company present, there stood on the left a
      diminutive elderly gentleman in the act of contemplating the fragment of a
      statue in a posterior position, and which certainly exhibited somewhat of
      a ludicrous appearance; on the right, the exquisite Jasper pointed out,
      with the self-sufficiency of an amateur, the masculine symmetry of a
      Colossian statue to his Aunt of antiquated virginity, whose maiden purity
      recoiling from the view of nudation, seemed to say, "Jaz, wrap an apron
      round him!" while in the foreground stood the rotunditive form of Timothy
      Surety, who declared, after a cursory and contemptuous glance at the
      venerable representatives of mythology, "That with the exception of the
      portrait of Sir William Hamilton, there was not in the room an object
      worth looking at; and as for them there ancient statutes," (such was his
      vernacular idiom and Bearbinder barbarism) "I would not give twopence for
      the whole of this here collection, if it was never for nothing else than
      to set them up as scare-crows in the garden of my country house at
      Edmonton!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Jasper whispered his aunt, that nuncks was a vile bore; and the
      sacrilegious declaration gave great offence to the diminutive gentleman
      aforesaid, who hesitated not in pronouncing Timothy Surety destitute of
      taste and vertu; to which accusation Timothy, rearing his squat form to
      its utmost altitude, indignantly replied, "that there was not an alderman
      in the City of London of better taste than himself in the qualities of
      callipash and callipee, and that if the little gemmen presumed again to
      asperse his vartue, he would bring an action against him tor slander and
      defamation of character." The minikin man gave Timothy a glance of
      ineffable disdain, and left the room. Mrs. <span class="pagenum">[14]</span>
      Tabitha, in the full consciousness of her superior acquirements, now
      directed a lecture of edification to her brother, who, however, manfully
      resisted her interference, and swore, that "where his taste and <i>vartue</i>
      were called in question he would not submit to any <i>she</i> in the
      universe."
    </p>
    <p>
      Mrs. Tabitha, finding that on the present occasion her usual success would
      not predominate, suspended, like a skilful manoeuvreist, unavailable
      attack, and, turning to her nephew, required to know what personage the
      tall figure before them was meant to represent. Jasper felt not qualified
      correctly to answer this enquiry, yet unwilling to acknowledge his
      ignorance, unhesitatingly replied, "One of the ancient race of architects
      who built the Giant's Causeway in the north of Ireland." This sapient
      remark excited a smile from the two friends, who shortly afterwards took
      an opportunity of withdrawing from further intercourse with the Bearbinder
      triumviri, and enjoyed with a more congenial party the remaining
      gratification which this splendid national institution is so well
      calculated to inspire.
    </p>
    <p>
      Extending their observations to the various interesting objects of this
      magnificent establishment, the two prominent heroes of our eventful
      history derived a pleasure only known to minds of superior intelligence,
      to whom the wonders of art and nature impart the acmé of intellectual
      enjoyment.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having been conducted through all the different apartments, the two
      friends, preparing to depart, the 'Squire tendered a pecuniary compliment
      to the Guide, in return for his politeness, but which, to the surprise of
      the donor, was refused; the regulations of the institution strictly
      prohibiting the acceptance by any of its servants of fee or reward from a
      visitor, under the penalty of dismissal.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Although the limits of this work admit not a minute detail
     of the rarities of the British Museum, yet a succinct
     enumeration of a few particulars may not prove unacceptable
     to our Readers.

     In the first room, which we have already noticed, besides
     the Egyptian and Etruscan antiquities, is a stand filled
     with reliques of ancient Egypt, amongst which are numerous
     small representatives of mummies that were used as patterns
     for those who chose and could afford to be embalmed at their
     decease.

     The second apartment is principally devoted to works of art,
     be-ginning with Mexican curiosities. The corners opposite
     the light are occupied by two Egyptian mummies, richly
     painted, which were both brought from the catacombs of
     Sakkara, near Grand Cairo.

     The third room exhibits a rich collection of curiosities
     from the South Pacific Ocean, brought by Capt. Cook. In the
     left corner is the mourning dress of an Otaheitean lady, in
     which taste and barbarity are curiously blended. Opposite
     are the rich cloaks and helmets of feathers from the
     Sandwich Islands.

     The visitor next enters the manuscript department, the first
     room of which is small, and appropriated chiefly to the
     collections of Sir Hans Sloane. The next room is completely
     filled with Sir Robert Harley's manuscripts, afterwards Earl
     of Oxford, one of the most curious of which is a volume of
     royal letters, from 1437 to the time of Charles I.. The next
     and last room of the manuscript department is appropriated
     to the ancient royal library of manuscripts, and Sir Robert
     Cotton's, with a few-later donations. On the table, in the
     middle of the room, is the famous Magna Charta of King John;
     it is written on a large roll of parchment, and was much
     damaged in the year 1738, when the Cotton library took fire
     at Westminster, but a part of the broad seal is yet annexed.

     We next reach the great saloon, which is finely ornamented
     with fresco paintings by Baptiste. Here are a variety of
     Roman remains, such as dice, tickets for the Roman theatres,
     mirrors, seals for the wine casks, lamps, &amp;c. and a
     beautiful bronze head of Homer, which was found near
     Constantinople.

     The mineral room is the next object of attention. Here are
     fossils of a thousand kinds, and precious stones, of various
     colours and splendours, composing a collection of
     astonishing beauty and magnificence.

     Next follows the bird room; and the last apartment contains
     animals in spirits, in endless variety. And here the usual
     exhibition of the house closes.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[15]</span> Issuing from the portals of the Museum,
      "Apropos," said Dashall, "we are in the vicinity of Russell-square, the
      residence of my stock-broker; I have business of a few moments continuance
      to transact with him&mdash;let us proceed to his residence."
    </p>
    <p>
      A lackey, whose habiliment, neat but not gaudy, indicated the
      unostentatious disposition of his master,, answered the summons of the
      knocker: "Mr. C. was gone to his office at the Royal Exchange."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The gentleman who occupies this mansion," observed Dashall to his friend,
      as they retired from the door, "illustrates by his success in life, the
      truth of the maxim so frequently impressed on the mind of the school-boy,
      that perseverance conquers all difficulties. Mr. C, unaided by any other
      recommendation than that of his own unassuming modest merit, entered the
      very <span class="pagenum">[16]</span> respectable office of which he is
      now the distinguished principal, in the situation of a young man who has
      no other prospect of advancement than such as may accrue from rectitude of
      conduct, and the consequent approbation and patronage of his employer. By
      a long exemplary series of diligence and fidelity, he acquired the
      confidence of, and ultimately became a partner in the firm. His strictly
      conscientious integrity and uniform gentlemanly urbanity have thus gained
      him a preference in his profession, and an ample competency is now the
      well-merited meed of his industry."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Combining with its enjoyment," responded the 'Squire, "the exercise of
      benevolent propensities."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Exactly so much so, that his name appears as an annual subscriber to
      nearly all the philanthropic institutions of the metropolis, and his
      private charities besides are numerous and reiterated."
    </p>
    <p>
      "This, then, is one of the few instances (said the 'Squire) of Real Life
      in London, where private fortune is so liberally applied in relief of
      suffering humanity&mdash;it is worthy of indelible record."
    </p>
    <p>
      Circumambulating the square, the two observers paused opposite the fine
      statue of the late Francis Duke of Bedford.
    </p>
    <p>
      The graceful proportion, imposing elevation, and commanding attitude of
      the figure, together with the happy combination of skill and judgment by
      the artist, in the display on the pedestal of various agricultural
      implements, indicating the favourite and useful pursuits of this estimable
      nobleman, give to the whole an interesting appearance, and strongly excite
      those feelings of regret which attend the recollection of departed worth
      and genius. Proceeding down the spacious new street directly facing the
      statue, our perambulators were presently in Bedford-square, in which is
      the effigy of the late eminent statesman Charles James Fox: the figure is
      in à sitting posture, unfavourable to our reminiscences of the first
      orator of any age or country, and is arrayed in the Roman toga: the face
      is a striking likeness, but the effect on the whole is not remarkable. The
      two statues face each other, as if still in friendly recognition; but the
      sombre reflections of Dashall and his friend were broke in upon by a
      countryman with, "Beant that Measter Fox, zur?" "His effigy, my <span
      class="pagenum">[17]</span>friend." "Aye, aye, but what the dickens ha've
      they wrapt a blanket round un vor?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Proceeding along Charlotte Street, Bloomsbury, the associates in search of
      Real Life were accosted by a decent looking countryman in a smock-frock,
      who, approaching them in true clod-hopping style, with a strong provincial
      accent, detailed an unaffectedly simple, yet deep tale of distress:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;Oppression fore'd from his cot,
          His cattle died, and blighted was his corn!"
</pre>
    <p>
      The story which he told was most pathetic, the tears the while coursing
      each other down his cheeks; and Dashall and his friend were about to
      administer liberally to his relief, the former observing, "There can be no
      deception here," when the applicant was suddenly pounced upon by an
      officer, as one of the greatest impostors in the Metropolis, who, with the
      eyes of Argus, could transform themselves into a greater variety of shapes
      than Proteus, and that he had been only fifty times, if not more, confined
      in different houses of correction as an incorrigible rogue and vagabond,
      from one of which he had recently contrived to effect his escape. The
      officer now bore off his prize in triumph, while Dashall, hitherto "the
      most observant of all observers," sustained the laugh of his Cousin at the
      knowing one deceived, with great good humour, and Dashall, adverting to
      his opinion so confidently expressed, "There can be no deception here,"
      declared that in London it was impossible to guard in every instance
      against fraud, where it is frequently practised with so little appearance
      of imposition.
    </p>
    <p>
      The two friends now bent their course towards Covent Garden, which,
      reaching without additional incident, they wiled away an hour at Robins's
      much to their satisfaction. That gentleman, in his professional capacity,
      generally attracts in an eminent degree the attention of his visitors by
      his professional politeness, so that he seldom fails to put off an article
      to advantage; and yet he rarely resorts to the puff direct, and never
      indulges in the puff figurative, so much practised by his renowned
      predecessor, the late knight of the hammer, Christie, the elder, who by
      the superabundancy of his rhetorical <span class="pagenum">[18]</span>flurishes,
      was accustomed from his elevated rostrum to edify and amuse his admiring
      auditory.{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      Of the immense revenues accruing to his Grace the Duke of Bedford, not the
      least important is that derived from Covent Garden market. As proprietor
      of the ground, from every possessor of a shed or stall, and from all who
      take their station as venders in the market, a rent is payable to his
      Grace, and collected weekly; considering, therefore, the vast number of
      occupants, the aggregate rental must be of the first magnitude. His Grace
      is a humane landlord, and his numerous tenantry of Covent Garden are
      always ready to join in general eulogium on his private worth, as is the
      nation at large on the patriotism of his public character.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall conducted his friend through every part of the Market, amidst a
      redundancy of fruit, flowers, roots and vegetables, native and exotic, in
      variety and profusion, exciting the merited admiration of the Squire, who
      observed, and perhaps justly, that this celebrated emporium unquestionably
      is not excelled by any other of a similar description in the universe.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The late Mr. Christie having at one time a small tract of
     land under the hammer, expatiated at great length on its
     highly improved state, the exuberant beauties with which
     Nature had adorned this terrestrial Paradise, and more
     particularly specified a delightful hanging wood.

     A gentleman, unacquainted with Mr. Christie's happy talent
     at exaggerated description, became the highest bidder, paid
     his deposit, and posted down into Essex to examine his new
     purchase, when, to his great surprise and disappointment, he
     found no part of the description realized, the promised
     Paradise having faded into an airy vision, "and left not a
     wreck behind!" The irritated purchaser immediately returned
     to town, and warmly expostulated with the auctioneer on the
     injury he had sustained by unfounded representation; "and as
     to a hanging wood, Sir, there is not the shadow of a tree on
     the spot!" "I beg your pardon, Sir," said the pertinacious
     eulogist, "you must certainly have overlooked the gibbet on
     the common, and if that is not a hanging wood, I know not
     what it is!"

     Another of Mr. Christie's flights of fancy may not unaptly
     be termed the puff poetical. At an auction of pictures,
     dwelling in his usual strain of eulogium on the unparalleled
     excellence of a full-length portrait, without his producing
     the desired effect, "Gentlemen," said he, "1 cannot, in
     justice to this sublime art, permit this most invaluable
     painting to pass from under the hammer, without again
     soliciting the honour of your attention to its manifold
     beauties. Gentlemen, it only wants the touch of Prometheus
     to start from the canvass and fall abidding!"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[19]</span> Proceeding into Leicester Square, the
      very extraordinary production of female genius, Miss Linwood's Gallery of
      Needlework promised a gratification to the Squire exceeding in novelty any
      thing which he had hitherto witnessed in the Metropolis. The two friends
      accordingly entered, and the anticipations of Tallyho were superabundantly
      realized.
    </p>
    <p>
      This exhibition consists of seventy-five exquisite copies in needlework,
      of the finest pictures of the English and foreign schools, possessing all
      the correct drawing, just colouring, light and shade of the original
      pictures from whence they are taken, and to which in point of effect they
      are in no degree inferior.
    </p>
    <p>
      From the door in Leicester Square the visitants entered the principal
      room, a fine gallery of excellent proportions, hung with scarlet
      broad-cloth, gold bullion tassels, and Greek borders. The appearance thus
      given to the room is pleasing, and indicated to the Squire a still more
      superior attraction. His Cousin Dashall had frequently inspected this
      celebrated exhibition, but' to Tallyho it was entirely new.
    </p>
    <p>
      On one side of this room the pictures are hung, and have a guard in front
      to keep the company at the requisite distance, and for preserving them.
    </p>
    <p>
      Turning to the left, a long and obscure passage prepares the mind, and
      leads to the cell of a prison, on looking into which is seen the beautiful
      Lady Jane Gray, visited by the Abbot and keeper of the Tower the night
      before her execution.
    </p>
    <p>
      This scene particularly elicited the Squire's admiration; the deception of
      the whole, he observed, was most beautiful, and not exceeded by any work
      from the pencil of the painter, that he had ever witnessed. A little
      farther on is a cottage, the casement of which opens, and the hatch at the
      door is closed; and, on looking in at either, our visitants perceived a
      fine and exquisitely finished copy of Gainsborough's Cottage Children
      standing by the fire, with chimney-piece and cottage furniture compleat.
      Near to this is Gainsborough's Woodman, exhibited in the same scenic
      manner.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having enjoyed an intellectual treat, which perhaps in originality as an
      exhibition of needlework is no where else to be met with, our
      perambulators retired, and reached home without the occurrence of any
      other remarkable incident.<span class="pagenum">[20]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0002" id="link32HCH0002">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER II
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Look round thee, young Astolpho; here's the place
          Which men (for being poor) are sent to starve in;&mdash;
          Rude remedy, I trow, for sore disease.
          Within these walls, stifled by damp and stench,
          Doth Hope's fair torch expire, and at the snuff,
          Ere yet 'tis quite extinct, rude, wild, and wayward,
          The desperate revelries of fell Despair,
          Kindling their hell-born cressets, light to deeds
          That the poor Captive would have died ere practised,
          Till bondage sunk his soul to his condition."

          The Prison.&mdash;Act I. Scene III.
</pre>
    <p>
      TRAVERSING the streets, without having in view any particular object,
      other than the observance of Real Life in London, such as might occur from
      fortuitous incident; our two perambulators skirted the Metropolis one fine
      morning, till finding themselves in the vicinity of Tothill-fields
      Bridewell, a place of confinement to which the Magistrates of Westminster
      provisionally commit those who are supposed to be guilty of crimes.
      Ingress was without much difficulty obtained, and the two friends
      proceeded to a survey of human nature in its most degraded state, where,
      amidst the consciousness of infamy and the miseries of privation, apathy
      seemed the predominant feeling with these outcasts of society, and
      reflection on the past, or anticipation of the future, was absorbed in the
      vacuum of insensibility. Reckless of his destiny, here the manacled felon
      wore, with his gyves, the semblance of the most perfect indifference; and
      the seriousness of useful retrospection was lost in the levity of
      frivolous amusement. Apart from the other prisoners was seated a recluse,
      whose appearance excited the attention of the two visitants; a deep cloud
      of dejection overshadowed his features, and he seemed studiously to keep
      aloof from the obstreperous revelry of his fellow-captives. There was in
      his manner a something inducing a feeling of commiseration which could not
      be extended to his callous <span class="pagenum">[21]</span> companions in
      adversity. His decayed habiliment indicated, from its formation and
      texture, that he had seen better days, and his voluntary seclusion
      confirmed the idea that he had not been accustomed to his present
      humiliating intercourse. His intenseness of thought precluded the
      knowledge of approximation on his privacy, until our two friends stood
      before him; he immediately rose, made his obeisance, and was about to
      retire, when Mr. Dashall, with his characteristic benevolence, begged the
      favour of a few moments conversation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am gratified," he observed, "in perceiving one exception to the general
      torpitude of feeling which seems to pervade this place; and I trust that
      your case of distress is not of a nature to preclude the influence of hope
      in sustaining your mind against the pressure of despondency."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The cause of my confinement," answered the prisoner, "is originally that
      of debt, although perverted into crime by an unprincipled, relentless
      creditor. Destined to the misery of losing a beloved wife and child, and
      subsequently assailed by the minor calamity of pecuniary embarrassment, I
      inevitably contracted a few weeks arrears of rent to the rigid occupant of
      the house wherein I held my humble apartment, when, returned one night to
      my cheerless domicil, my irascible landlord, in the plenitude of ignorance
      and malevolence, gave me in charge of a sapient guardian of the night,
      who, without any enquiry into the nature of my offence, conducted me to
      the watch-house, where I was presently confronted with my creditor, who
      accused me of the heinous crime of getting into his debt. The constable
      very properly refused to take cognizance of a charge so ridiculous; but
      unluckily observing, that had I been brought there on complaint of an
      assault, he would in that case have felt warranted in my detention, my
      persecutor seized on the idea with avidity, and made a declaration to that
      effect, although evidently no such thought had in the first instance
      occurred to him, well knowing the accusation to be grossly unfounded. This
      happened on a Saturday night, and I remained in duresse and without
      sustenance until the following Monday, when I was held before a
      Magistrate; the alleged assault was positively sworn to, and, maugre my
      statement of the suspicious, inconsistent conduct of my prosecutor, I was
      immured in the lock-up house for the remainder of the day, on the
      affidavit of <span class="pagenum">[22]</span> perjury, and in the evening
      placed under the friendly care of the Governor of Tothill-fields
      Bridewell, to abide the issue at the next Westminster sessions."
    </p>
    <p>
      "This is a most extraordinary affair," said the Squire; "and what do you
      conjecture may be the result?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "The pertinacity of my respectable prosecutor," said the Captive, "might
      probably induce him to procure the aid of some of his conscientious
      Israelitish brethren, whom 1 never saw, towards substantiating the
      aforesaid assault, by manfully swearing to the fact; but as I have no
      desire of exhibiting myself through the streets, linked to a chain of
      felons on our way to the Sessions House, I believe I shall contrive to pay
      the debt due to the perjured scoundrel, which will ensure my enlargement,
      and let the devil in due season take his own!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "May we enquire," said Dashall, "without the imputation of impertinent
      inquisitiveness, what has been the nature of your pursuits in life?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Multitudinous," replied the other; "my life has been so replete with
      adventure and adversity in all its varieties, and in its future prospects
      so unpropitious of happiness, that existence has long ceased to be
      desirable; and had I not possessed a more than common portion of
      philosophic resignation, I must have yielded to despair; but,
    </p>
    <p>
      "When all the blandishments of life are gone, The coward sneaks to death,&mdash;the
      brave live on!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Thirty years ago I came to London, buoyant of youth and hope, to realize
      a competency, although I knew not by what means the grand object was to be
      attained; yet it occurred to me that I might be equally successful with
      others of my country, who, unaided by recommendation and ungifted with the
      means of speculation, had accumulated fortunes in this fruitful
      Metropolis, and of whom, fifteen years ago, one eminently fortunate
      adventurer from the north filled the civic chair with commensurate
      political zeal and ability.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Some are born great; others achieve greatness, And some have greatness
      thrust upon them!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, Sir, what can be said of it? I was without the pale of fortune,
      although several of my school-mates, who had established themselves in
      London, acquired, by dint of perseverance, parsimony and servility,
      affluent <span class="pagenum">[23]</span>circumstances; convinced,
      however, that I was not destined to acquire wealth and honour, and being
      unsolaced even with the necessaries of life, I abandoned in London all
      hope of success, and emigrated to Ireland, where I held for several years
      the situation of clerk to a respectable Justice of the Quorum. In this
      situation I lived well, and the perquisites of office, which were
      regularly productive on the return of every fair and market day, for
      taking examinations of the peace, and filling up warrants of apprehension
      against the perpetrators of broken heads and bloody noses, consoled me in
      my voluntary exile from Real Life in London. I was in all respects
      regarded as one of the family; had a horse at my command, visited in
      friendly intimacy the neighbouring gentry; and, above all, enjoyed the
      eccentricities of the lower Irish; most particularly so when before his
      honour, detailing, to his great annoyance, a story of an hour long about a
      tester (sixpence), and if he grew impatient, attributing it to some secret
      prejudice which he entertained against them.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Their method is to get a story completely by heart, and to
     tell it, as they call it, out of the face, that is, from the
     beginning to the end without interruption.

     "Well, my good friend, I have seen you lounging about these
     three hours in the yard, what is your business?"

     "Plase your honour, it is what I want to speak one word to
     your honour."

     "Speak then, but be quick.    What is the matter?"

     "The matter, plase your honour, is nothing at all at all,
     only just about the grazing of a horse, plase your honour,
     that this man here sold me at the fair of Gurtishannon last
     Shrove fair, which lay down three times with myself, plase
     your honour, and kilt me; not to be telling your honour of
     how, no later back than yesterday night, he lay down in the
     house there within, and all the children standing round, and
     it was God's mercy he did not fall a-top of them, or into
     the fire to burn himself. So, plase your honour, to-day I
     took him back to this man, which owned him, and after a
     great deal to do I got the mare again I swopped (exchanged)
     him for; but he won't pay the grazing of the horse for the
     time I had him, though he promised to pay the grazing in
     case the horse didn't answer; and he never did a day's work,
     good or bad, plase your honour, all the time he was with me,
     and I had the doctor to him five times, any how. And so,
     plase your honour, it is what I expect your honour will
     stand my friend, for I'd sooner come to your honour for
     justice than to any other in all Ireland. And so I brought
     him here before your honour, and expect your honour will
     make him pay me the grazing, or tell me, can I process him
     for it at the next assizes, plase your honour?"

     The  defendant  now, turning a quid of tobacco with   his
     tongue into some secret cavern in his mouth, begins his
     defence with

     "Plase your honour, under favour, and saving your honour's
     presence, there's not a word of truth in all this man has
     been saying from beginning to end, upon my conscience, and I
     would not for the value of the horse itself, grazing and
     all, be after telling your honour a lie. For, plase your
     honour, I have a dependance upon your honour that you'll do
     me justice, and not be listening to him or the like of him.
     Plase your honour, it is what he has brought me before your
     honour, because he had a spite against me about some oats I
     sold your honour, which he was jealous of, and a shawl his
     wife got at my shister's shop there without, and never paid
     for, so I offered to set the shawl against the grazing, and
     give him a receipt in full of all demands, but he wouldn't,
     out of spite, plase your honour; so he brought me before
     your honour, expecting your honour was mad with me for
     cutting down the tree in the horse park, which was none of
     my doing, plase your honour;&mdash;ill luck to them that went
     and belied me to your honour behind my back. So if your
     honour is plasing, I'll tell you the whole truth about the
     horse that he swopped against my mare, out of the face:&mdash;
     Last Shrove fair I met this man, Jemmy Duffy, plase your
     honour, just at the corner of the road where the bridge is
     broke down, that your honour is to have the present for this
     year&mdash;long life to you for it! And he was at that time
     coming from the fair of Gurtishannon, and 1 the same way:
     'How are you, Jemmy?' says I. 'Very well, I thank you,
     Bryan,' says he: 'shall we turn back to Paddy Salmon's, and
     take a naggin of whiskey to our better acquaintance?' 'I
     don't care if I did, Jemmy,' says I, 'only it is what I
     can't take the whiskey, because I'm under an oath against it
     for a month.' Ever since, plase your honour, the day your
     honour met me on the road, and observed to me I could hardly
     stand, I had taken so much&mdash;though upon my conscience your
     honour wronged me greatly that same time&mdash;ill luck to them
     that belied me behind my back to your honour! Well, plase
     your honour, as I was telling you, as he was taking the
     whiskey, and we talking of one thing or t'other, he makes me
     an offer to swop his mare that he couldn't sell at the fair
     of Gurtishannou, because nobody would be troubled with the
     beast, plase your honour, against my horse; and to oblige
     him I took the mare&mdash;sorrow take her, and him along with
     her! She kicked me a new car, that was worth three pounds
     ten, to tatters, the first time I ever put her into it, and
     I expect your honour will make him pay me the price of the
     car, any how, before I pay the grazing, which I have no
     right to pay at all at all, only to oblige him. But I leave
     it all to your honour; and the whole grazing he ought to be
     charging for the beast is but two and eight pence halfpenny,
     any how, plase your honour. So I'll abide by what your
     honour says, good or bad; I'll leave it all to your honour."

     I'll leave it all to your honour, literally means, I'll
     leave all the trouble to your honour.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[25]</span>But this pleasant life was not decreed
      much longer to endure, the insurrection broke out, during which an
      incident occurred that had nearly terminated all my then cares in this
      life, past, present, and to come.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In my capacity as clerk or secretary, I had written one morning for the
      worthy magistrate, two letters, both containing remittances, the one 150L.
      and the other 100L. in bank of Ireland bills. We were situated at the
      distance of fifteen miles from the nearest market town, and as the times
      were perilous and my employer unwilling to entrust property to the
      precarious conveyance of subordinate agency, he requested that I would
      take a morning ride, and with my own hands deliver these letters at the
      post-office. Accordingly I set out, and had arrived to within three miles
      of my destination, when my further progress was opposed by two men in
      green uniform, who, with supported arms and fixed bayonets, were pacing
      the road to and fro as sentinels, in a very steady and soldier-like
      manner. On the challenge of one of these fellows, with arms at port
      demanding the countersign, I answered that I had none to give, that I was
      travelling on lawful business to the next town, and required to know by
      what authority he stopt me on the King's highway, "By the powers," he
      exclaimed, "this is my authority then," and immediately brought his musket
      to the charge against the chest of my horse. I now learnt that the town
      had been taken possession of that morning by a division of the army of the
      people, for so the insurgents had styled themselves. "You may turn your
      nag homewards if you choose," said the sentry; "but if you persist in
      going into the town, I must pass you, by the different out-posts, to the
      officer on duty." The business in which I was engaged not admitting of
      delay, I preferred advancing, and was ushered, ultimately, to the notice
      of the captain of the guard, who very kindly informed me, that his general
      would certainly order me to be hanged as a spy, unless I could exhibit
      good proof of the contrary. With this comfortable assurance, I was
      forthwith introduced into the presence of the rebel general. He was a
      portly good-looking man, apparently about the age of forty, not more; wore
      a green uniform, with gold embroidery, and was engaged in signing
      dispatches, which his secretary successively sealed and superscribed; his
      staff were in attendance, and a provost-marshal in waiting to perform the
      office of summary execution on those to whom the general might attach
      suspicion. The insurgent leader <span class="pagenum">[26]</span>now
      enquiring, with much austerity, my name, profession, from whence I came,
      the object of my coming, and lastly, whether or not I was previously aware
      of the town being in possession of the army of the people, I answered
      these interrogatories by propounding the question, who the gentleman was
      to whom I had the honour of addressing myself, and under what authority I
      was considered amenable to his inquisition. "Answer my enquiries, Sir," he
      replied, "without the impertinency of idle circumlocution, otherwise I
      shall consider you as a spy, and my provost-marshal shall instantly
      perform on your person the duties of his office!" I now resorted to my
      letters; I had no other alternative between existence and annihilation.
      Explaining, therefore, who I was, and by whom employed, "These letters," I
      added, "are each in my hand-writing, and both contain remittances; I came
      to this town for the sole purpose of putting them into the post-office,
      and I was not aware, until informed by your scouts, that the place was in
      the occupation of an enemy." He deigned not a reply farther than pointing
      to one of the letters, and demanding to know the amount of the bill which
      it enveloped; I answered, "One hundred and fifty pounds." He immediately
      broke the seal, examined the bill, and found that it was correct. "Now,
      Sir," he continued, "sit down, and write from my dictation." He dictated
      from the letter which he had opened, and when I had finished the copy,
      compared it next with the original characters, expressed his satisfaction
      at their identity, and returning the letters, licensed my departure, when
      and to where I list, observing, that I was fortunate in having had with me
      those testimonials of business, "Otherwise," said he, "your appearance,
      under circumstances of suspicion, might have led to a fatal result."&mdash;"You
      may be assured, gentlemen," continued the narrator, "that I did not
      prolong my stay in the town beyond the shortest requisite period; two
      mounted dragoons, by order of their general, escorted me past the
      outposts, and I reached home in safety. These occurrences took place on a
      Saturday. The triumph of the insurgent troops was of short duration; they
      were attacked that same night by the King's forces, discomfited, and their
      daring chieftain taken prisoner. On the Monday following his head, stuck
      upon a pike, surmounted the market-house of Belfast. The scenes of anarchy
      and desperation in which that <span class="pagenum">[27]</span>
      unfortunate country became now involved, rendered it no very desirable
      residence. I therefore procured a passport, bid adieu to the Emerald Isle,
      Erin ma vorneen slan leet go bragh! and once more returned to London, to
      experience a renewal of that misfortune by which I have, with little
      interval, been hitherto accompanied, during the whole period of my
      eventful life."
    </p>
    <p>
      The two strangers had listened to the narrative with mingled sensations of
      compassion and surprise, the one feeling excited by the peculiarity, the
      other by the pertinacity of his misfortunes, when their cogitations were
      interrupted by a dissonant clamour amongst the prisoners, who, it
      appeared, had united in enmity against an unlucky individual, whom they
      were dragging towards the discipline of the pump with all the eagerness of
      inflexible vengeance.
    </p>
    <p>
      On enquiry into the origin of this uproar, it was ascertained that one of
      the prisoners under a charge of slight assault, had been visited by this
      fellow, who, affecting to commiserate his situation, proposed to arrange
      matters with his prosecutor for his immediate release, with other offers
      of gratuitous assistance. This pretended friend was recognised by one of
      the prisoners as a kidnapper.
    </p>
    <p>
      A kidnapper, or crimp, is one of those fellows of abandoned principles,
      who enter into the pay of the East India Company in order to recruit their
      army, and when a guinea or two is advertised to be given to any person
      that brings a proper man of five feet eight or nine inches high, lie in
      wait to entrap men for the money. Some of these gentry assume the
      character of officers, others of Serjeants, drummers, and recruits,
      without the least shadow of commission among them. They have many ways of
      inveigling the artless and unthinking. One or two of these kidnappers,
      dressed as countrymen, go five or six miles out of town to meet the
      waggons and stages, and enquire if John Such-a-one is come up, which is
      answered in the negative, no such person being known; they then enter into
      discourse with the countrymen, and being perfectly complaisant, engage
      attention, and by the time they get to London, learn their occupations and
      business to town; whether they are in search of places, trades, or intend
      to return home again, which intelligence they in general profit by. Coming
      to the place of rendezvous, the <span class="pagenum">[28]</span>
      kidnappers propose a pint of porter, which being agreed on, they enter the
      house where their companions are in waiting, enjoy themselves over flowing
      bowls, and exhilirating their spirits with loyal toasts and songs, begin
      their business by enquiring who is willing to serve His Majesty. The
      countryman, if inclined thereto, is generally deceived; if his desire is
      for the guards, or any other particular regiment, there are at hand mock
      Serjeants and privates, who will swear they belong to the corps, and the
      dupe is trepanned for the East Indies, hurried on board a ship, or kept in
      some dismal place of security till a sufficient number is collected, and
      an opportunity serves to send them away.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the other hand, should the countryman be averse to enlisting, and talk
      of going away, these crimps will swear that he has received a shilling or
      more of the bounty-money, insisting that they saw him put the money into
      such and such a pocket; it is in vain that the countryman denies having
      received it, search is made, money found, and he is compelled to submit or
      pay the smart.
    </p>
    <p>
      Others again, of these prowlers, frequent the places of confinement, and
      learning the particular case of some prisoner for small debt or slight
      assault, kindly otter to mediate with the prosecutor or creditor in
      effecting liberation. The pretended friend assumes the most disinterested
      feeling of sympathy, ingratiates himself into confidence, and generally
      terminates his machinations with success; accomplishes the prisoner's
      release, and sends him ultimately from temporary duresse to perpetual
      exile.
    </p>
    <p>
      Such was the character of the fellow now placed in the ominous guidance of
      an exasperated multitude; they urged him forward to the place of
      punishment; but the tumultuary assemblage were disappointed in their
      anticipated vengeance, by the interposition of the turnkeys, and the
      pretended friend escaped the meditated castigation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Observe, again," said the narrator, "that dashing young fellow, arrayed
      in the first style of dandyism."
    </p>
    <p>
      "My good fellow," interrupted Bob, "he is not, I should think, one of the
      community; he has, apparently, the manners of the well bred and
      accomplished gentleman." "And for that very reason, Sir, is the better
      qualified to <span class="pagenum">[29]</span> carry on his profession
      with impunity; he whom you dignify with the appellation of a well bred and
      accomplished gentleman, is all that you have expressed of him, with the
      exception of one word, that is, substitute for gentleman, swindler, and
      the character is justly delineated. This fellow, of desperate enterprize,
      is one of the numerous practitioners of knavery, who set themselves up for
      men of property and integrity, the more easily to defraud the unwary and
      ignorant out of their substance and effects. This Spark, connecting
      himself with several others of similar pursuit, they took a genteel house
      in a respectable part of the town, and dividing themselves into classes of
      masters, clerks, out-riders, shopmen, porters, and servants, and thus
      making a show of opulence, they easily obtained credit, and laid in goods
      of every kind, which they sent into the country and sold, or bartered for
      other commodities; these commodities they brought up to London, and sold
      for ready money, generally taking in exchange double the quantity, and
      paying for the same with notes of their own drawing, indorsing, and
      fabricating, for the purpose of cheating the poor deluded farmer,
      shopkeeper, and tradesman in the interior of the country. With respect to
      tradesmen in town, the goods they took of them on trust they disposed of
      to Jews, and other receivers of stolen goods, at about thirty per cent
      under value, for ready money, nay, forty per cent rather than not have the
      cash; and as their stay in one place could not safely exceed five months,
      on account of their creditors calling in their debts, and their country
      notes becoming due, they used to make all possible dispatch to dispose of
      the various articles, and evacuate the premises before detection. This
      done, they played the same game elsewhere, when, <i>Proteus</i> like, they
      changed shapes, and disguised themselves so as not to be known, and
      carried on business in another house, but in a different name; the master
      became the rider, the rider the master, the clerks descended to footmen
      and porters, the footmen to porters and clerks, and so on throughout,
      until they had drained many parts of the town and country, to the ruin of
      several worthy and honest families. However, the co-partnership is now
      dissolved, the establishment is broke up, and the different individuals of
      this nefarious gang of depredators, of whom the well bred and accomplished
      gentleman, the subject of our remarks, is one of the principals, are
      consigned to <span class="pagenum">[30]</span> different gaols for further
      examination and final commitment."
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall expressed thanks for the interesting communication, and the Squire
      his astonishment that the credulity of man could warrant the hope of
      success to such a combination, however systematically arranged; and where
      so many were concerned (and the distribution of plunder perhaps by no
      means equalized,) that some dissatisfied individual did not renounce the
      dangerous connection in the hope of impunity and reward.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We know not that there is any subordinate division of spoil," said the
      other; "but if such there be, it may in this union of interests be the
      maxim as with other co-partnership concerns, that he, by whatsoever means,
      who contributes the most to the general stock, shall participate the most
      in the general benefit.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Swindlers have other means of cheating and tricking the public, such as
      answering the advertisements of tradesmen who are in want of a sum to make
      good a payment, and offering, in consideration of a small premium, to get
      them the money required, on their note of hand, which they premise must be
      first given, and the money will be immediately advanced; the necessitated
      person agrees to the terms, and unthinkingly gives his note, which one of
      the Swindlers carries away, with a promise of a speedy return with the
      money wanted, but neither Swindler nor note is forthcoming until it
      becomes due, after having passed through many different hands, some of
      whom can ascertain giving a valuable consideration for the same, and fix
      the drawer to the payment, whose consolation for his credulity is, paying
      the money or going to prison.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In case of a stagnation of trade, the Swindlers advertise themselves to
      borrow or lend upon good security. If they borrow, they have sham deeds,
      and make false conveyance of estates in <i>nubibus</i>, nobody knows
      where; if they lend, they artfully inveigle the borrower out of his
      security, which they take up money upon and convert to their own use,
      without the deluded person's knowledge; and by absconding, leave him to
      the mortification of descanting on their roguery, and his own want of
      foresight."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[31]</span> The triumvirate were once more
      interrupted; a newcomer had arrived, and the prisoners hailed his
      initiation with the first stanza of an old song:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Welcome, welcome, brother debtor,
          To this poor, but merry place,
          Where no Bailiff, Dun, nor Setter,{1}
          Dares to shew his frightful face:
          But, kind Sir, as you're a stranger,
          Down your garnish you must lay,
          Else your coat will be in danger,&mdash;
          You must either strip or pay!"

     1 Setters&mdash;This appellation is applicable to others than
     those-alluded to in the above stanza, as connected with Duns
     and Bailiffs. They are a dangerous set of wretches, who are
     capable of committing any villany, as well by trepanning a
     rich heir into matrimony with a cast-off mistress or common
     prostitute, as by coupling a young heiress with a notorious
     sharper, down to the lowest scene of setting debtors for the
     bailiff and his followers. Smitten with the first glance of
     the lady, you resign your heart, the conjugal knot is tied,
     and, like the Copper Captain, you find the promised land,
     houses, and furniture, the property of another, and not of
     yourself.
</pre>
    <p>
      The novitiate, neither surprised at his reception, nor adverse to the
      custom of the place, seemed quite at home, paid his garnish without
      hesitation, and entered at once into the vacuum of indifference with his
      new associates.
    </p>
    <p>
      The attention of Dashall and Tallyho was attracted by the clank of
      fetters, as one of the prisoners squatted himself on the pavement of the
      yard. Leaning his back against the wall, he commenced darning an old
      stocking, chanting at same time an old song from the Beggar's Opera, as if
      predicting his own fate, yet with a manner indicating the most callous
      indifference&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Since laws were made for every degree,
          To curb vice in others as well as in me,
          I wonder we ha'n't better company
          Upon Tyburn tree.&mdash;&mdash;

          But gold from law can take out the sting,
          And if rich men like us were to swing,
          'Twould thin the land, such numbers would string
          Upon Tyburn tree.&mdash;&mdash;
</pre>
    <p>
      The irreclaimable depravity of this man could not excite any urgent
      feeling of sympathy in his behalf, and our two friends took no further
      notice of him.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[32]</span> Their Intelligencer, who in the
      meanwhile had gone forth for information, now advancing,&mdash;"I
      thought," said he, "that I had seen elsewhere this Johnny Newcome; he is a
      sharper, another precious addition to our respectable community."{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      "Respectable, indeed," exclaimed Tallyho, as he detected an urchin thief
      in the act of picking his pocket of his handkerchief. This hopeful imp,
      though young in years, was experienced in iniquity, had served an active
      apprenticeship to the art of picking pockets with impunity,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The Sharper, who has generally had a genteel education, is
     a person of good address and conversation, has more the
     power of delusion at will than the unlettered cheat, devoid
     of address and other requisites to complete the pretended
     gentleman, and therefore should be more carefully avoided.
     These villains, having run through their fortunes at an
     early period of life by associating with professed gamblers
     and sharpers, (who having eased them of their money, in
     return complete them for the profession by which they have
     been ruined) set up for themselves, throw aside honour and
     conscience, and quote the lex talionis for deceiving others,
     as they themselves have been deceived. These gentry are to
     be met with at horse-races, cock-fights, the billiard and
     hazard tables, and at all public places of diversion. On
     your entering the coffee-house, tavern, or gaming-house, the
     Sharper views you with attention, and is not long before he
     becomes acquainted and very intimate with you; if you agree
     to his proposal to play, if he cannot beat you by fair, he
     will by foul means. Rather than lose, he will elude your
     attention, and raise your passion sufficiently to put you
     off your guard, while he plays his underhand game, and
     cheats you before your face; and though you are sensible of
     being cheated, yet you shall not be able to discover by what
     means it is effected. The various methods sharpers have to
     cheat and deceive are so many and unaccountable, that it
     would exceed the limits of our publication to detail even
     the tenth-part of them; their study is to supply their
     exigencies by means within their power, however wicked or
     villanous. If you associate with sharpers, you must not only
     expect, but deserve to be cheated by them for your
     credulity; for who would go with his eyes open into a den of
     thieves, but in expectation of being robbed? Or, who would
     herd with sharpers, and not expect to be cheated? We would
     therefore advise the stranger in London to shun these
     reptiles of the creation, fraught with guile, and artful as
     the serpent to delude. Beware of their conversation, avoid
     their company, take no notice of their tricks, nor be caught
     by their wheedling professions of friendship; listen not to
     any of their enticements, if you would preserve your peace
     and property; be not fond of making new acquaintance with
     persons you do not know, however genteel in appearance and
     behaviour, for many a villain lurks under the disguise of a
     modern fine gentle-man; and if any stranger asks you to play
     with him for money, set him down in your mind as a Sharper,"
     and leave the room immediately.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[33]</span>and at last became so great an adept in
      the profession, that at the early age of thirteen years he was unanimously
      elected captain of an organized band of juvenile depredators, some much
      younger, none older than himself, who for a considerable length of time
      set at defiance the vigilance of the police. These young fry carried on a
      long protracted successful war of extermination against ladies' reticules.
      One urchin, watching her approach, would lay himself across the path she
      must pass, and it frequently happened that she tumbled over him; a grab
      was then made at the reticule, the watch, and the shawl, with which the
      young villains generally got clear off. Others, in detachments of two or
      three, would hover about the door or window of a tradesman's shop, cut out
      a pane of glass, and abstract some valuable trinket; or watch the
      retirement of the shopkeeper into his back-room, when one of the most
      enterprizing would enter on hands and knees, crawl round the counter with
      the stillness of death, draw out the till with its contents, and bear off
      the spoil with impunity. One night, however, luckily for the public, the
      whole gang was made prisoners of, and dispersed to various gaols, each
      delinquent being ordered a severe flogging and solitary confinement.
      Availing himself of this indulgence, the Captain had watched the
      opportunity of approximating towards Tallyho, and was detected, as we said
      before, in the exercise of his former propensities; so difficult it is to
      eradicate vice from the human mind, even though in this instance so early
      implanted. Lenity in this case would have been equally misplaced as
      unjust, although the Squire humanely pressed his intercession; the
      incorrigible pilferer was therefore handed over to the custody of one of
      the turnkeys, until the Governor might award a punishment suitable to the
      heinousness of the offence.
    </p>
    <p>
      The two friends had been here above an hour&mdash;it was an hour they
      thought not idly spent. And now leaving a small donation for distribution
      amongst such as appeared deserving objects, they returned home gratified
      by the additional knowledge acquired of <i>Real Life in London</i>.<span
      class="pagenum">[34]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0003" id="link32HCH0003">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER III
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "......Would you see
          The Debtors' world, confide yourself to me.
          Come; safely shall you pass the fatal door,
          Nor fear it shuts you in, to ope no more.
          See, frowning grimly o'er the Borough Road,
          The crossing spikes that crown the dark abode!
          O! how that iron seems to pierce the soul
          Of him, whom hurrying wheels to prison roll,
          What time from Serjeants' Inn some Debtor pale
          The Tipstaff renders in default of bail.
          Black shows that grisly ridge against the sky,
          As near he draws and lifts an anxious eye:
          Then on his bosom each peculiar spike,
          Arm'd with its proper ill, appears to strike."
</pre>
    <p>
      THE recollection of past enjoyments in the vivacious company of Merry
      well, could not fail to be revived in the minds of Dashall and his Cousin;
      and as some persons, with due attention to his safety, had manifested
      their interest and regard for him by obtaining his admission to the
      Priory, where he was at this moment pursuing his studies, and could not
      quite so conveniently call on them, an early visit was determined on.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We shall," said Tom, "by a call on Merrywell after six weeks residence
      among the gay blades that inhabit the walls of the King's Bench, have all
      the benefit of his previous observation. He will be able to delineate the
      characters, consciences, and conduct of his neighbours. He will describe
      all the comforts and advantages of a college life, introduce us to the
      Bloods and the Blacks, and, in short, there are few persons I know, except
      Sparkle himself, more able to conduct us through the intricacies of the
      Building, to point out the beauty and excellence of the establishment, its
      uses and abuses, than Merrywell."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do they charge any thing on admittance?"enquired Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "O yes," was the reply, "they charge you, by a public <span class="pagenum">[35]</span>
      notice in the lobby, not to convey into the interior any spirituous
      liquors, on pain of being yourself discharged from thence, and confined
      elsewhere. Bless your soul, why the King's Bench is a little world within
      itself, a sort of epitome of London; it is in a healthy situation, and the
      space which it occupies is extensive. There are in all 224 rooms, and they
      measure each about 14 or 16 feet by 12 or 13; of these, eight are called
      State-rooms, are much larger than the rest, and more commodious; and a
      well-breech'd customer may have almost any accommodation. It is the prison
      most immediately belonging to the Court of King's Bench, and, exclusive of
      debtors there sued, all persons standing in contempt of that Court, and
      most of those committed under its sentence, are confined."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And pretty generally all inhabited?" interrogated Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, and frequently it is difficult to obtain a place to sleep in even as
      a chum."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob found himself at fault, and required an explanation of the word chum.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The chum," replied Dashall, "is a partner or bed-fellow, a person who has
      an equal right to all the comforts and conveniences of a room, previously
      wholly in the possession of one."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I understand," said Bob; "then when every room has already one occupant,
      they accommodate him with a companion."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Exactly so, and he may prove friend or foe. This, however, may be
      avoided, if the student is in possession of the rubbish, by an escape into
      the Rules, which extend for three miles round the priory. These Rules are
      purchaseable after the following rate, viz. Ten guineas for the first
      hundred pounds, and about half that sum for every hundred pounds
      afterwards; day-rules, of which three may be obtained in every term, may
      be purchased for 4s. 2d. for the first day, and 3s. 10d. for the rest.
      Each also must give good security to the Marshal.<span class="pagenum">[36]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;The fiction of the law supposes,
          That every prisoner, with means to pay,
          (For he that has not this advantage loses,)
          Either has business in the courts, or may;
          Bond, fee, and sureties fresh prepare the way
          And Mister Broothoft's manual sign declares
          'That Mister such-a-one, on such a day,
          'Hath got a rule of Court, and so repairs
          'To town, or elsewhere, call'd by his affairs.'

          This little Talisman of strange effect,
          (Four shillings just and sixpence is the price)
          From Bailiff's power the wearer will protect,
          And nullify a Capias in a trice:
          It bears a royal head in quaint device,
          At least as true as that which Wellesley Pole,
          With taste for English artists much too nice,
          Stamp'd by Pistrucci's aid (Heaven rest his soul!
          And shield henceforth the Mint from his controul.)

          In various ways the various purchasers
          That sally forth with this protecting spell,
          Employ the privilege this grant confers:
          Some, like myself, their lawyer's citadel
          Besiege, his speed long striving to impel;
          To take a dinner with a friend some go;
          In fashion's haunts some for an hour to swell;
          Some strive, what creditors intend, to know;
          And some the moments on their love bestow."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Thus you have a full, true, and particular, as well as amusing account,
      of a Day Rule, or what in the cant language of the day is termed hiring a
      horse, which sometimes proves a bolter."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And what is meant by a bolter?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "He is one," replied Dashall, "who, having obtained the privilege of a Day
      Rule, brushes off, and leaves his bondsmen, or the Marshal, to pay his
      debt; or one who transgresses the bounds; but such a one when retaken,
      usually undergoes some discipline from the inhabitants of the College, who
      being all honourable men, set their faces against such ungentleman-like
      proceedings."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then they do sometimes make an escape?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, notwithstanding their restrictive arrangements, such things have
      occurred, and you must recollect that of Lord Cochrane, confined for the
      memorable Stock Exchange hoax. The means by which it was effected, I
      believe, have never been discovered; but certain it is, that he was in the
      House of Commons, while a prisoner in the King's Bench, and on the first
      night of his subsequent liberation, gave the casting vote against a
      proposed grant to a certain Duke."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I remember it very well, and also remember that the generality of
      thinking persons considered his Lordship harshly treated."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[37]</span> "However, he is now bravely fighting the
      battles of independence, increasing both his fame and fortune, while some
      of the Ministerial hirelings are subjected to a similar privation. We
      shall have a view of some of the residents in this renowned place of
      fashionable resort; the interior of which perhaps exhibits a spectacle far
      more diversified, and if possible more immoral and vicious, than the
      exterior. There are quondam gentlemen of fortune, reduced either so low as
      not to be able to pay for the Rules, or so unprincipled and degraded as to
      have no friend at command who could with safety become their surety.
      Shop-keepers, whose knavery having distanced even their extravagance,
      dread the appearance of ease exhibited in the Rules and the detection of
      fraud, by producing the reverse of their independence, and who even grudge
      the expenditure of money, to obtain limited liberty. Uncertificated
      bankrupts, and unconvicted felons; Jews&mdash;gamblers by trade&mdash;horse-dealers&mdash;money
      scriveners&mdash;bill discounters&mdash;annuity procurers&mdash;disinterested
      profligates&mdash;unemployed and branded attorneys&mdash;scandal mongers
      and libel writers&mdash;Gazetted publicans, and the perhaps less culpable
      sinners of broken officers&mdash;reduced mechanics&mdash;starving authors,
      and cast-off Cyprians."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A very comprehensive and animated account truly," said Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And you will find it accurate," continued Dashall, "for the turn-out of
      this dwelling of crime and misery, resembles the Piazza de Sant Marco at
      Venice, in the Carnival time. There are all descriptions and classes in
      society, all casts and sects, all tribes and associations, all colours,
      complexions and appearances, not only of human and inhuman beings, but
      also all shades, features, and conformations of vice. The Spendthrift, or
      degraded man of fortune, lives by shifts, by schemes, by loans, by
      sponging on the novice, by subscription, or on commiseration's uncertain
      aid. He has however in perspective some visionary scheme of emolument and
      dishonour blended, to put into execution as soon as he obtains his
      discharge. The uncertificated Bankrupt has many opportunities left yet; he
      has other dupes, other tricks of trade, other resources in reserve. The
      Swindler mellows, refines, and sublimates his plan of future operations,
      and associates in it, perchance, a fallen fair one, or an incipient Greek,
      <span class="pagenum">[38]</span> put up in the Bench. Horse-dealers,
      money scriveners, bill doers, attorneys, &amp;c. have either the means of
      setting up again, or some new system of roguery to be put in practice, in
      fresh time and place, which may conduct them to the harbour of Fortune, or
      waft them over the herring pond at the expence of the public purse. The
      disinterested Profligate here either consumes, corrupts, and festers,
      under the brandy fever and despair, or is put up by a gambler, who sells
      his art to his brother debtors, and thus lives in hope of yet turning the
      honest penny in imitation of those who have gone before him. The Cyprian,
      still exercising her allurements, lingers and decays until persecution
      loses the point of its arrow, and drops from the persecutor's hand,
      grasping more hardly after money, and opening from the clenched attitude
      of revenge. Then, to conclude the picture, there are youths living upon
      the open infamy of easy-hearted women, who disgrace and ruin themselves
      without the walls, in order to pamper the appetite and humour the whims of
      a favourite within, thus sacrificing one victim to another. Partners
      carrying on trade in the world, communing with their incarcerated partners
      in durance vile. Misery and extravagance, rude joy and frantic fear, with
      more passions than the celebrated Collins ever drew, and with more scenes,
      adventures, and vicissitudes, than ever Jonathan Wild or any other
      Jonathan exhibited."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Excellent description," exclaimed Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And you shall have ocular demonstration of its absolute existence; nay,
      this sketch might serve for many other places of confinement, the Fleet,
      &amp;c. They are like the streets of the Metropolis, constantly varying in
      their company, according to entrances and exits of their visitors."
    </p>
    <p>
      "This, however," continued the Hon. Tom Dashall, "is rather a mental
      picture of what we shall presently witness in reality, a sort of
      introductory sketch by way of passport through the doors of this Panorama
      of Beal Life, to which you will shortly be introduced; a sort of ideal, or
      dramatic sketch of its inhabitants <i>en masse</i>, before the drawing up
      of the curtain."
    </p>
    <p>
      The eagerness of Bob to listen to his Cousin's sketches of London society,
      on the one hand, and the earnestness with which Dashall had been
      exercising his imaginary powers, on the other, had led our perambulators
      to the <span class="pagenum">[39]</span> foot of Blackfriar's Bridge, on
      their road to the King's Bench, without any particular circumstance
      exciting their attention; when Bob, suddenly twitching his Cousin by the
      arm, and directing his eye at the same time to a thin spare figure of a
      man, without hat or coat, who was rapidly passing towards Fleet market,
      enquired who it was, and what was his occupation or calling.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Don't you hear his calling?" was the reply.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hot, hot, hot, pudding hot!" was in a moment vociferated in his ears,
      while the active and industrious mercantile pedestrian, with a swing of
      his head, which was in continual motion from right to left, gave Bob a
      wipe in the eye with his tail, which by the velocity of the wearer was
      kept in full play like the pendulum of a clock, or the tail of Matthews in
      his admirable delineation of Sir Fretful Plagiary.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds," cries Bob, "it is true I may hear, but I can't pretend to say I
      can see; who the devil is he? there is no looking at him, he seems to
      leave time and space behind him; where is he?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom laughed heartily, while Bob rubbed his eyes in vain to obtain another
      view.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," said Dashall, "is a sort of Commissary, a dealer in stores for the
      stomach&mdash;red hot pudding, all hot, and commonly called the Flying
      Pieman."{1}<span class="pagenum">[40]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 James Sharpe Eglaud, more commonly known in the streets of
     the Metropolis by the appellation of the Flying Pieman, may
     fairly be held forth as an example of what may be effected
     by persevering industry and activity, especially in a large
     and populous city. Those qualities, joined with a moderate
     share of prudence, cannot fail to ensure to every man at
     least comfort and respectability, it" not competence and
     wealth, however humble his sphere, and however unpromising
     his beginnings. He was bred to the sedentary trade of a
     tailor, and worked for some years with his relation, Mr.
     Austerbury, of Friday Street, Cheapside; but love, which
     works so many changes, and which has ere now transformed
     blacksmiths into painters, and which induced Hercules to
     exchange his club for the distaff, caused this Knight of the
     Steel Bar to relinquish the shop-board and patch up his
     fortune by the patty-pan. He married his landlady, a widow,
     who resided in Turnmill Street, Clerkenwell. He had a soul
     above buttons, and abandoned the making of garments to cover
     the outside, in order to mould cakes, pies, and other small
     pastry, to comfort the internals. His active genius,
     however, could not brook the tedious task of serving his
     customers behind the counter; he therefore took up his
     eatables and went abroad in quest of them, and we doubt not
     he has found this practice, which he has continued ever
     since, very profitable. The neatness and cleanliness of his
     appearance at all times are truly pleasing. Hail, rain, or
     shine, he may be seen abroad without coat or hat; his hair
     powdered, his shirt sleeves turned up to his elbows, and a
     steel hanging on his apron-string. Originally he carried a
     tin case, something like a Dutch oven, in which he
     constantly kept a lire, but is now generally seen with a
     small tray. In serving a customer, he never touches his
     pudding with his hands, but has a knife for the purpose of
     presenting it to the purchasers, and his sale is so
     extensive, that he is obliged to replenish several times in
     a day; and in order to secure a regular and ready supply,
     his female partner and himself convey a quantity of pudding
     to a certain distance, and deposit their load at some
     public-house, where she takes care to keep it "all hot,"
     while Egland scours the neighbourhood in search of
     customers. The first cargo being disposed of he returns for
     more, and by this method he has it always fresh, and is
     never in want of goods.

     Many laughable anecdotes are told of this flying pieman, and
     perhaps a day's excursion in following him during his
     peregrinations would furnish much of curious and interesting
     amusement. We shall however select one, authenticated by his
     appearance at Marlborough Street Police Office on Monday,
     July 8, 1821, as most intimately connected with Real Life in
     London; when he preferred a serious charge against a Beggar,
     no other than the president of a smoking club in the Holy
     Land, and others, for stealing his mutton pies, cutting off
     his tail, and otherwise disfiguring his person. By the
     evidence of Egland, it appeared that he was introduced, with
     his goods for sale, to a company chiefly consisting of
     street beggars in St. Giles's, the chair at that moment
     being filled by a beggar without hands, well known in the
     vicinity of the Admiralty as a chalker of the pavement. The
     dignity of the chair was well sustained by this ingenious
     colourer, who was smoking a pipe as great as an alderman
     over a bason of turtle soup; but no sooner did Egland make
     his appearance, than the company seized upon his goods and
     crammed them down their throats, in spite of the repeated
     vociferations of "honour, honour, Gentlemen," from the
     assailed. Resistance was vain, and Egland in this dilemma
     began to consider that his only safety lay in flight. This,
     however, he found equally impracticable; he was detained,
     and by way of consolation for his loss, was called upon for
     a song. His lungs were good, and although his spirits were
     not much exhilarated by the introductory part of the
     entertainment, he began to "tip 'em a stave;" but whilst he
     was chanting "The stormy winds do blow," a fellow cut off
     his tail. This was worse than all the rest; it was, as it
     were, a part of his working tools, and the loss of it was
     likely to injure his business by an alteration of his
     appearance, and could not be tacitly submitted to.

     The magistrates gravely considering this a most serious
     charge of unprovoked attack upon an industrious individual,
     ordered the parties to find bail, in default of fully
     satisfying the inoffensive dealer in pastry, which was
     accordingly done.

     In the year 1804, scorning to be behindhand in loyalty as
     well as activity, he became a member of the Clerkenwell
     Volunteers, and was placed in the light company, in which
     capacity he obtained the character not only of being the
     cleanest man, but the best soldier in the regiment.

     It is said, that for amusement, or the gratification of a
     whim, he will sometimes walk a distance of fifty or a
     hundred miles from the Metropolis, and return the same way.
     On such occasions he always manages to take some companion
     or friend out with him, but was never known to come back in
     the same company; for so irresistibly are they allured
     forward by his inexhaustible fund of humour and
     sprightliness of conversation, that they seldom think of the
     distance till they find themselves too far from home to
     return on foot.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[41]</span>"Then," said Bob, "he is not like some of
      the London dealers, who invite their customers to taste and try before
      they buy, for he scarcely seems to afford a chance of seeing what he
      sells."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You did not try him," replied Tom, "nor would he have expected you to be
      a customer. He is a remarkable character, well known all over the
      Metropolis. Particularly noted for his activity in disposing of his goods;
      never standing still for a moment, but accosting with extraordinary ease
      and fluency every person who appears likely to be a purchaser; always
      ready with an answer to any question, but delivering it with so much
      volubility, that it is impossible to propose a second enquiry, suiting at
      the same time his answer to the apparent quality of the querist, though
      frequently leaving it unfinished in search of a customer, and moving on
      with so much rapidity, that you may almost find him at the same moment at
      Tower Hill, Billingsgate, and Spa Fields; at Smithfield, Temple Bar, and
      Piccadilly; indeed he may be said to be in all quarters of the town in a
      space of time incredibly short for a man who obtains a livelihood by
      seeking customers as he moves along."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds," cried Bob, "this walking genius, this credible incredible, and
      visible invisible pedestrian dealer in portable eatables, has almost
      blinded me.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "For, by this flying pieman,
          I've nearly lost an eye, man."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Come," said Tom, "I've no fear of your eye while you can muster a
      couplet; so let us proceed."
    </p>
    <p>
      Crossing Black friars Bridge, and approaching the road, Bob, who had
      assuaged the pain of which he had previously <span class="pagenum">[42]</span>
      been complaining, could not help admiring the extensive range of nouses on
      each side of the way, terminated by a handsome building in the distance.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That Building," said Dashall, "will be the extent of our journey, for
      very near to it is the habitation of Merrywell, where I entertain no doubt
      you will find enough for observation of a useful as well as a humorous
      nature: for an epitome of men and manners is there to be obtained."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here are abundance of subjects worthy of inspection in this quarter,"
      replied Tom, "and we therefore ought not to exhaust too much time on one,
      so let us proceed: do you see that high wall to the right? That is the
      Magdalen Hospital,{1} established for the relief and
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The Magdalen Hospital in Blackfriars Road, enclosed from
     public view, occupies an extensive space of ground, and is
     from the nature of its inhabitants very properly so
     enclosed. It was opened in the year 1758, and it must be a
     delightful reflection to its governors, that during the
     period it has subsisted, more than two-thirds of the women
     who have been admitted have been reconciled to their
     friends, or placed in honest employments or reputable
     services: besides which, a very considerable portion have
     since been married, and are at this moment respectable
     members of society: circumstances which prove the great and
     important utility of this admirable institution.

     There is no prescribed time for the objects of this charity
     to remain in the house, it being varied according to
     circumstances. Every effort is made use of to find out their
     relations and friends, if possible, to bring about a
     reconciliation with them, and if they prove to be persons of
     character, to put them under their protection. If, however,
     the young women are destitute of such friends, they are kept
     in the house till an opportunity offers of placing them in
     reputable services, or otherwise procuring them the means of
     obtaining an honest livelihood, and they never discharge any
     one without providing for her. There have been but few
     discharged beyond the age of twenty years.

     The general business of the establishment is conducted by a
     Committee consisting of 32 Governors, who meet at the
     Hospital every Thursday at twelve o'clock precisely, except
     on the first Thursday of every mouth, when they meet at
     eleven. Two of them attend at the Chapel in rotation every
     Sunday at morning and evening service, when a collection is
     made at the door on entrance. The hours of divine service
     are a quarter after eleven in the forenoon, and a quarter
     after six in the evening; and on account of the fascination
     of the singing, no place of worship in the Metropolis is
     more worthy of the notice of strangers.

     An opportunity is afforded to companies who wish to visit
     this charity, by addressing a request by letter to the
     Committee any Thursday, or to A. Bonnet, Esq. the Treasurer,
     any day in the week, and no fees are allowed to be taken.
</pre>
    <p>
      reformation of wretched outcasts from society. The principle on which it
      is founded, entitles it to the countenance and support of the public, and
      particularly of the female sex, the object being to reclaim and restore to
      virtue such wanderers in the labyrinths of vice as are not totally
      depraved."<span class="pagenum">[43]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      "Admirable intentions indeed," cried Tallyho, "if they are but as well
      carried into effect."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The records of the establishment have proved its advantages to society,
      or rather, I should say, to its conductors, for they are of a nature which
      cannot be publicly exposed, without much private injury to the individuals
      who partake of them. It is, however, not a little remarkable, that till
      lately, on the very opposite side of the road, the neighbourhood has
      exhibited scenes of vice, immorality, and indecency, which it is the great
      object of this Charity if possible to prevent, by an endeavour to reclaim
      the miserable and deluded wretches from their evil ways. I remember the
      late John Home Tooke related in the House of Commons a curious anecdote,
      in allusion to himself and his situation at the time, in which this
      institution was mentioned, and which excited considerable interest.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is well known that the late John Home Tooke, of political memory as
      the reputed tutor of a certain patriotic Baronet of the present day, as
      well as the author of the Diversions of Purley, and a correspondent of the
      yet undiscovered Junius, was a reverend divine of the Church of England;
      and when he became a Member of Parliament, it was objected against him
      that no person in Holy Orders could hold a seat in the honourable House of
      Commons. In his reply, he very ingeniously observed, that this objection
      reminded him of an applicant for admission to the Magdalen, who, upon
      being exhorted by the Chaplain to forsake her evil ways, replied that she
      was not aware of his meaning, and upon explanation she was excluded from
      the Charity, because she was not bad enough to require reforming. 'This,'
      said Mr. Home Tooke, 'is exactly my case; because I am in Holy Orders I
      must leave the House, and after committing some act of impropriety to lose
      my gown, I may yet be eligible for a Member of this Assembly.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pointed enough," said Bob Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," replied Tom; "and having mentioned the name of the man, you may
      perhaps recollect the order of the day, <span class="pagenum">[44]</span>
      as well as the curious definition (before the Commissioners of the Income
      Tax) as to how a man lives who has no income at all. Being interrogated by
      the Commissioners, as to how he obtained his living, Mr. Home Tooke
      replied as follows:&mdash;'Why, it appears to me, Gentlemen, that there
      are three modes by which a person may obtain a living; the first is by
      begging&mdash;now this I am too proud to submit to;&mdash;the second, by
      stealing&mdash;this I don't choose to resort to;&mdash;and the third is by
      the exercise of the wits&mdash;and this, Gentlemen, I presume, you know
      nothing about.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here," said Dashall, "is the Surrey Theatre, formerly denominated the
      Royal Circus. I shall, however, dispatch my description of it in a very
      few words, as we will ere long pay a visit to its interior. It is a neat
      building, and shews a good front to the road; is fitted up with a
      considerable degree of elegance, and is a very convenient theatre. It was
      originally conducted by Hughes and Jones, and its exhibitions were both
      scenic and equestrian, something in the style of what Astley's
      Amphitheatre is now; but you must see the one in order to form an idea of
      the other. Horses are now banished at this place, where, under an annual
      license from the magistrates of the county, burlettas, melodramas,
      dancing, and pantomimes are got up, and performed in a style which would
      not disgrace even the patent theatres. It is at present under the
      management of Mr. Dibdin, a son of the celebrated writer of so many of our
      national, patriotic, and characteristic ballads.&mdash;Just through the
      turnpike, the building which gives a sort of finish to the road, is the
      School for the Indigent Blind; at the back of which is the Philanthropic
      Institution, calculated to unite the purposes of charity with those of
      industry and police, to rescue from destruction the offspring of the
      vicious and criminal; and Bethlem Hospital, for the care and cure of
      insane persons, well deserving of minute inspection; and to the right, at
      the corner of a road which leads from Westminster Bridge towards Vauxhall,
      is an Asylum for Female Orphans, which, as the Magdalen was intended to
      reclaim prostitutes, was originally intended to prevent prostitution. To
      the left again is the King's Bench; and as that is our present place of
      destination, we will forego any further description, till another
      opportunity.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I cannot, however, refrain a few remarks on the <span class="pagenum">[45]</span>situation
      we are now in, for from this place may be seen the children of penance
      (the Magdalen); the children of darkness (the School for the Indigent
      Blind); the insane (New Bethlem); the infatuated and fanatic (the
      congregations of the Zoar Chapel, and the faithful of mewses, garrets, and
      wooden tabernacles); the children of Thespis and Terpsichore (the Surrey
      Theatre), mingled together as it were with the debtor and the captive (the
      King's Bench): at least, placing ourselves at this obelisk in the centre
      of the road, the mind's eye can comprehend them within a short distance of
      each other."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And a curious admixture of the useful and the sweet it certainly is,"
      exclaimed Tallyho, anxious to give his Cousin a little respite, while they
      turned to the left on their way to the Bench.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You will find," continued Tom, "all the before-mentioned infirmities,
      blindness, infatuation, madness, and profligacy, within the walls that we
      shall shortly enter, without the repentant spirit of the Sisters within
      the walls we have just passed. You will also find there is a plenty of
      self-interest and hypocrisy combined with them; nay, an hospital of
      incurables is only wanting to complete the scene. It is not till lately
      that a little reform has been effected in this quarter, for Dover Street
      and its vicinity, as I before observed, so near to these benevolent
      charities and to the walls of a prison, have been the sink of female
      profligacy, of the lowest, most dangerous, and most disgusting kind; and
      suffered too long to pollute the streams of charity and impede the road to
      reform. However, at length the nuisance is removed, at least the public
      appearance of it, though the neighbourhood is not altogether bereft of its
      private negociations and stolen accommodations. But come, now for an
      interior view of the. Abbott's Park, its interesting scenery, and its
      multi-farious characters. There you shall see what you shall see, and
      Merrywell will tell you more in ten minutes than you might wish to know in
      your whole life, I mean practically, though it is well to know in theory
      what ought never to be reduced to experiment."<span class="pagenum">[46]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0004" id="link32HCH0004">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER IV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;Give me leave to ask a question;
          Pray, in the King's Bench have you ever been?
          The Bench! Good Heaven! how shocking a suggestion!
          Was e'er so saucy a companion seen?

          Well, you ne'er saw the place; or if you did,
          'Twere better not too closely to surmise;
          Enough, enough, those frowns the thought forbid,
          Who sees too much is rarely counted wise;
          I rather boast that mine are prudent eyes;
          Persons and things so quietly they read,
          Nor by a glance confess they scrutinize,
          That thoughtless lookers think me blind indeed,
          When of themselves I take the strictest heed.
          But since you wish me to believe that College
          Ne'er gave its finish to your education,
          I, of its laws and customs having knowledge,
          Ere I take up the thread of my narration,
          Must say a little for your information."
</pre>
    <p>
      THEY had now passed the outer gates of the prison, and entered a court
      yard surrounded by a wall, which enclosed some good looking houses.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These houses," said Dashall, "are occupied by the principal officers of
      the place, and devoted to purposes of business, or let out by them for the
      accommodation of those who' have purchased the privilege of the Rules.
      This door directly opposite the gate, is the only entrance to the Park."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link3image-0002" id="link3image-0002">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page046.jpg" alt="Page46 King's Bench " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      They next passed up the steps, and entered a gloomy apartment, where after
      a few minutes a Turnkey, surveying their persons rather minutely, opened
      the ponderous door, which admitted them to an inner court of confined
      dimensions. Bob looked around him with surprise after the description of
      his Cousin, and began to think he had been vamping up imaginary pictures
      of what was not to be realized; however, hearing a variety of voices, and
      perceiving another gate, he quelled his conjectures and <span
      class="pagenum">[47]</span> followed Dashall, who, upon knocking at the
      door, was surveyed from a sort of loop-hole by the keeper within, who
      quickly gave them entrance; and the spacious appearance of the parade,
      racquet ground, and habitations, and a moving panorama of personages of
      both sexes, attracted his immediate attention.
    </p>
    <p>
      Gazing with enquiring eyes upon this world-within-walls,{1} they scarcely
      heeded the variety of salutations with which they were greeted on
      entering, such as nods, winks, and touches on the shoulder from one who
      appeared as unconscious of such familiarity as if he had for some time
      been wholly absorbed in the solution of a mathematical problem, or the
      horse-laugh of the ignorant and vulgar, by whom they found themselves
      surrounded. Struggling through the throng, Dashall impelled his Cousin
      forward, repeating as he proceeded,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "How many o'er this threshold pass that mouru,
          Wanting our power at pleasure to return;
          A moment let us pause ere we ascend
          The gallery that leads us to our friend;
          Survey the place, where all that meets your view,
          Is full of interest, and strangely new.
          Could we but hide those grinning spikes awhile,
          Borne spacious barrack we might think the pile."
</pre>
    <p>
      "However," continued he, "I perceive we are quizzed, we will just take a
      turn round, and probably we may meet Merrywell, if not, we will soon find
      him out by enquiry. You perceive, they have the accommodation of a
      butcher's shop, and a baker's, besides green stalls, fish stalls, and
      chandlers' shops, which give the place the appearance of a public market,
      while the racquet players and others amusing themselves in various ways,
      resemble that of a fair."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Indeed," said Tallyho, "your description is just, for I have as yet seen
      but few sorrowful faces, every one seems to have some object in view,
      either of business or pleasure, almost as attractive as those without the
      walls."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[48]</span> "And in many instances," continued
      Dashall, "of as much, nay, more interest. However, you perceive the
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The walls of the King's Bench are about thirty feet high,
     sur-mounted by a <i>chevaux de frieze</i>, and as a place of
     confinement, it is of great though uncertain antiquity.
</pre>
    <p>
      accommodation of the inmates has been studied by the founders of the
      College. Water is well supplied from four pumps, and were it not that the
      walls intercept the views, a man here might almost consider himself in his
      own habitation, with only one drawback."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And what is that?" enquired Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Merely, that like the starling, he can't get out."
    </p>
    <p>
      "How now," said Merry well, who had espied the entrance of his friends
      from the window of his apartment, and immediately descended to greet them&mdash;touching
      the Honourable Tom Dashall on the shoulder, while he seized Bob by the
      opposite arm.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What are you a'ter, exploring the secrets of the prison-house?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Mutual congratulations having passed, Merrywell welcomed them to his
      habitation, significantly informing them at the same time, that
      notwithstanding his powers of entertainment were just then not what he
      could wish, all was right, the trick was done, that he was arranging for a
      house in the Rules, <i>pro tempore</i>, and that it would not be long
      before he should have the honour of meeting them in a way that would be
      more agreeable to all parties. "However," continued he, "if you can bear a
      confined apartment, I promise you shall have nothing else to complain of.
      Can you put up with pot-luck in a prison?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly," was the reply, "our object was to spend a convivial hour with
      you, to wile away a little of the time, to see and learn, to take a peep
      at things as they are, and to form our judgments upon their existence."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," replied Merrywell, "you have arrived <i>en bon heure</i>, for in
      this place a volume of information may be obtained, which, if judiciously
      applied, must prove beneficial; and while dinner is preparing, I can
      afford you abundance of amusement; so come along, we must move round this
      way to the gate again, in order to take any thing like an accurate survey,
      and I can furnish some anecdotes of the paraders, the players, the
      officers of the Court, and the visitors, which cannot fail to prove
      interesting. This, however, must be done with caution, for suspicion is
      ever active, and jealousy constantly awake within these walls; and as I
      mean to give you sketches of individual characters, rather than a general
      view of <span class="pagenum">[49]</span> the society with which I am now
      in association, a little discretion may be well made use of."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Now let us analyse, but not too loud,
          If wise, the composition of this crowd;
          Made up from native soil and foreign clime,
          Of waste and folly, accident and crime.
          Here join the Speculator and the Fool,
          Greybeards, and youngsters rather tit for school,
          (At least for any school but this alone,
          Where College vices in the shade are thrown.)
          Of pugilists, of haberdashers, jugglers,
          Horse jockeys, swindlers, Bond Street beaux, and smugglers,
          By hollow friendship some in prison thrown,
          By others' follies some&mdash;more by their own."
</pre>
    <p>
      By this time they had traversed round the open walk of the prison, and on
      arriving at the place of entrance&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you observe that small building on the right? it is called the State
      House, and contains the largest and most convenient rooms; it is usually
      devoted to the accommodation of such as are best enabled to pay; and there
      are persons residing here, who live as well, and in as dashing a style as
      those without the walls, or at least pay as much for their living. On the
      left hand you may also perceive the chapel, for the spiritual wants of
      those confined are not to be forgotten."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "There, in the centre, is the chapel door,
          With ever changing notices spread o'er:
          Whatever doctrines may within be taught,
          With words of peace that door is rarely fraught:
          For there, mid notices of beds for hire,
          Of concerts in the state-house by desire,
          Some ill-spelt scrawl demands the mighty debt
          Of half a crown, with a ferocious threat;
          Some traitorous agent is denounced; some spy,
          That blabb'd of gin, is hung in effigy;
          Here angry fools proclaim the petty jar,
          And clumsy pasquinades provoke to war."
</pre>
    <p>
      By this time they had reached the door of the Chapel, which, by the
      various placards pasted against it, fully confirmed the description of
      Merrywell.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob, casting his eyes around him, discovered much for enquiry. "Who are
      those in the corner in close conversation together?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "The farthest from us," replied Merrywell, "is a Jew attorney, well
      acquainted with all the shuffling arts of the <span class="pagenum">[50]</span>
      place; one who can explain the whole game, from raising the wind, down to
      the White-washing Act, for the knowledge and experience of gentlemen in
      these days are astonishing. You would scarcely believe it, but such is the
      fact, there are rakes of quality and of fashion, who are their own
      farriers, horse dealers, who know every trick upon the cards and dice&mdash;cutting,
      shuffling, slipping, cogging, securing; who have cards and dice always at
      hand, and ready made to their hand; who, although they are awake to a good
      thing, know the odds to a nicety, and can give or take according as it may
      best suit their purpose, yet are not properly initiated in all requisite
      mysteries, till a sort of finish is given to their education, by a
      temporary retirement here; where they learn a sufficiency of the law to
      give information on all the quirks and quibbles of the arrest laws, of
      bailing, demurring, justifying bail, putting in bail above, of writs of
      error, county and Marshalsea writs, of letters of licence, the laws
      against usury, the bankrupt laws, and finally of acts of grace; perhaps
      the last and only one in their lives bearing that name: but we must walk
      on, or we may be overheard."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," said Dashall, "you are by this time pretty well acquainted with
      the characters of your companions, and expect to leave the College with
      more information than you previously possessed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "No doubt of it," was the reply; "but as my case was not desperate, I have
      not sought desperate remedies. I am at this moment supposed by certain
      friends of mine to be in the gay city of Paris, enjoying all the luxuries
      of the Thuilleries, the Louvre, the Palais Royal, and the Elysian Fields;
      and I doubt not I shall be able to convince an old rich uncle of mine of
      the fact. And as my expectations chiefly rest on him, and he cannot last
      long, I shall upon liberation make my approaches to him with a little of
      the French polish I am preparing while here. This, however, is selfish
      conversation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yet perfectly in point," continued Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And equally interesting too," said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you see," said Merrywell, "that young man buttoned up to the chin, in
      what has been a blue great coat? He is one of the lecturers."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Lecturers?" enquired Tallyho; "what, have you lectures in the College?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[51]</span> "Undoubtedly we have, on subjects of the
      utmost importance too. That young man, who began the world with slender
      property, but who contrived by a strict adherence to ways and means to cut
      a dashing figure, and live as if he had a large fortune, is in possession
      of volumes of information, which he is willing to retail to such as
      require it. What are termed lecturers here, are needy debtors, who put up
      young men less knowing than themselves, for money or for a dinner; and his
      experience is great, for when he had worn out all quarters of the town in
      the way of trick, when the fashionable watering places were teeming with
      clamorous creditors, when he was expelled from all the clubs in
      consequence of not paying his subscriptions, nay, when he owed almost all
      the waiters money, he came to this place nearly pennyless, and now, by
      singing a good song, telling a tough story, and occasionally giving
      lectures to his brothers in confinement, he manages to get a good dinner
      daily, and seldom goes to bed sober."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then his ways and means are not yet exhausted; he must be a good
      financier, and might be made very useful to the Minister," replied Tom;
      "and it is really a pity such talents are not duly appreciated."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Who is that little stout man who passed you just now with a nod of the
      head?" enquired Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," answered Merrywell, "is Capt. W&mdash;&mdash;, a sort of walking
      automaton, a kind of medley of incomprehensibles, something like pedants'
      periods, very inanimate, and as you perceive, very round. He was formerly
      a button maker, but having a desire to sink the shank, he enlisted under
      the banners of Cupid, paid his addresses to one of the Queen's maids,
      carried the fortress by a <i>coup de main</i>, and gained a safe lodgement
      in the covert way, by taking the oath of allegiance at the altar of Hymen.
      Spurning buttons, he aspired to the epaulette, and was appointed paymaster
      to the 7th Hussars. Then he set up a coach to run to and from Maidenhead.
      This being one iron too many in the fire, soon became too hot for him. He
      defaulted for a considerable sum, and has been in quod for four years.
      Here comes a beau of the first order, a Colonel, and a most determined
      Dandy, even in confinement. Colonel R&mdash;&mdash; adheres as much to the
      nicety of dress in this place, as he would for a military appearance on
      parade. He <span class="pagenum">[52]</span> is Colonel of the New Grenada
      Horse. I have not yet learned much of his former pursuits or his origin.
      There is, however, an anecdote of him circulated, which prove the
      admirable fitness of such a person for such a command. It is said that
      when he obtained his appointment, he very significantly asked the General,
      what stocks he should have for his guns, meaning the gun carriages."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That's a little too severe," cried Dashall, laughing at the same time,
      "it was but a <i>lapsus linguæ</i>, such as might happen to any man."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I claim no merit in the relation," was the reply; "however, it has raised
      many a laugh at his expence, and as I had it so you now have it. But we
      have other game in view, and must not be exhausting our time in
      criticising immaterial points of propriety.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Here ruin'd Lawyers, ruin'd Clients meet;
          Here Doctors their consumptive Patients greet,
          Sick of one malady that mocks all skill,
          Without the true specific golden pill
          Here finished Tailors, never to be paid,
          Turn eyes on many a coat themselves have made;
          And Bailiffs, caught by their own arts at last,
          Meet those their capias yesterday made fast.
          There stalks a youth whose father, for reform,
          Has shut him up where countless vices swarm.
          But little is that parent skill'd to trace
          The springs of action,&mdash;little knows the place,
          Who sends an ailing mind to where disease
          Its inmost citadel of health may seize."
</pre>
    <p>
      "You entertain us with a diversity of mental dishes," said Tom; "Manacles,
      Mammon, and Morality, dance through the mazes of your imagination in rapid
      and admirable succession&mdash;I wonder you don't commence Lecturer."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I do not conceive myself qualified, and as I have no real occasion to be
      a pretender, I leave it to those who have.&mdash;O! there goes a curiosity&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "If you look sharp you'll see the short knee'd breeches, Brown hat and
      powdered head of stalking P&mdash;tch&mdash;s."
    </p>
    <p>
      "He is known here by the title of Don; he has been a long resident within
      these walls, has seen much of Life, and is still a gay fellow. He was
      formerly a Member of Parliament, but not being able to overrule the
      Speaker, he out-run the Constable, and was seized by <span class="pagenum">[53]</span>
      the Bailiffs. He is, however, a jolly companion, and lives well; but to
      show his contempt for riches, he has actually seated his inexpressibles
      with the parchment title deeds of his own estate, with impressions similar
      to the old song&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Why should we quarrel for riches,
          Or any such glittering toys?
          A tight heart and a thin pair of breeches
          Will go through the world, my brave boye."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Who is that with the rackets under his arm?" enquired Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That is Baker, a sort of privileged man, who is allowed the advantages of
      supplying the inmates with rackets, balls, &amp;c. He lends rackets, sells
      balls, keeps scores, and occasionally carries on the haberdashery trade."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then he is a shop-keeper, I suppose."
    </p>
    <p>
      "He is a measurer of tape" replied Merry well, "by way of refreshment, or
      in other words, under safe circumstances, can spin out Old Tom or
      Blue-ruin."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I understand," said Bob, "a little of the Cratur."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here," continued Merry well, "is the coach-maker to the late Christophe,
      King of Hayti, Mr. H&mdash;&mdash; of Long Acre notoriety. This gentleman
      bought a considerable estate, which, with true parental regard, he settled
      on his daughter, and paying for his purchase by his residence here,
      whether his intentions will be fulfilled or not, so as to obtain
      liberation by the Whitewashing Act, no one at present can tell&mdash;and
      Colville is taking his walks&mdash;he is one of the Janitors, and Crier of
      the place. He has a Stentorian voice, which is a part of his business to
      exercise in calling the prisoners. I know but little of him, and even that
      is not worth knowing. He, however, has the character of being an informer,
      and I am not aware that he is in possession of any good qualities. I
      shall, therefore, rather give a slight sketch of the office he holds, than
      of the person.<span class="pagenum">[54]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Whoe'er one night has slept within these walls,
          Has heard the din that each new comer calls,
          To where the keen-eyed Turnkeys wait to trace
          The lineaments of every novel face.
          Each morning thro' the Bench goes forth a cry,
          By Colville sent thro' every gallery high.
          To number "One," peals round the shout from "Ten,"
          Far rolling heard, "Pull up! now Gentlemen!"
</pre>
    <p>
      "This is the custom with every new comer, and is productive sometimes of
      much mirth to some, but of infinite mortification to others, according to
      the circumstances of the case. As it would occupy some time to describe
      them, I shall give you a poetical sketch of a morning in the Bench; and by
      the introduction of a fictitious name, make you acquainted with a general
      practice. Imagine for a moment,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Rous'd by the force of that Stentorian sound,
          Rose Belcour, dressed, and soon the lobby found.
          About the door a throng of varlets stood,
          A grinning and ill-favoured brotherhood,
          That scoff and gibe at every wight that wears
          Linen less black, or better coat than theirs.
          For these, young Belcour was too fair a mark;
          'Make way,' cries one, 'he's going to the Park:
          His horses wait; he's going for a ride.'
          'Fool, 'tis his tilbury,' another cried;
          'D'ye think his lordship rides without his spurs?'
          'A curse upon such base unmanner'd curs,'
          Between his teeth impatient Belcour mutter'd,
          As each his wit so truly attic utter'd;
          Then, 'mid the laughter of the brutal throng,
          Dark frowning through the door he moved along.
          Within the upper lobby Morris sate,
          And touch'd with easy complaisance his hat;
          And cried, not deigning from his seat to stir,
          'We hope you're pretty comfortable, Sir.
          'These chaps about the door are rather rum;
          'But, love you!   So they do to all that come.'
          Short was the conference; the Turnkey's look
          Quick cognizance of Belcour's features took;
          And never, from that hour might he pass by
          Unnoted by that well-observing eye."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Well," said Tallyho, "I must confess such scrutiny on the one part, and
      such observations on the other, would be more than likely to ruffle my
      temper, and I should be apt to signify my disapprobation, at least of all
      that was unnecessary."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In that case," replied Merry well, "you would only subject yourself to
      additional torment: you would have songs, epigrams, lampoons, and epitaphs
      in abundance, which would prove still more irritating; for this is the
      seat of learning and of wit, of poets, painters, and musicians, who, being
      enraptured with their own arts, neglect that of book-keeping, till a
      residence here gives them a leisure opportunity to close their ledgers.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[55]</span> Speaking on that subject, by the by, we
      have among us, at this moment, the publishers of the John Bull, whose
      combined efforts in the way of scurrility have rendered them notorious
      among the periodicals of present times. There is, however, little of
      public attraction about them; and although they profess to have a
      subscription opened, to enable them to pay the fine imposed upon them, it
      is doubted whether any such is really in existence. Here, however, is a
      character of another description:
    </p>
    <p>
      Captain K&mdash;&mdash; is still a gay fellow, though I apprehend rather
      what we call hard up just now. He has had the opportunity of expending a
      very considerable property in seeing Life, but if report say true, it has
      been chiefly exhausted among the fair sex, and coffee-house keepers.
      Seldom much depressed in spirits, let the world wag as it will, he
      sometimes gives good dinners and enjoys himself with a friend, though I
      suspect that can, under present circumstances, only be done when he can
      pitch the gammon to the wine merchant, and induce him to stand the
      nonsense."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And do wine merchants give credit to persons in confinement?" enquired
      Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly," was the reply, "for services done or promised to be done, or
      upon the security of some friend, who perhaps intends soon after to pay
      his engagements by a similar mode to that of the person whose debt he
      pretends to secure. No place can be found where the study of ways and
      means is more closely attended to than this. Of our prisons in general,
      much the same may be said as of our gaming houses; very few get out of
      them as they went in. A dupe is the general character of those who first
      enter; but they seldom fail to acquire that of knave before their
      departure. The air is infectious, the society fatal to morality and to
      honesty; few pass through the ordeal with purity, and return
      uncontaminated to the world; and yet, after all the frauds, tricks, and
      speculations practised, it is well to be acquainted with them, in order to
      guard against the recurrence, if a man can but have fortitude enough to
      avoid practising them himself.<span class="pagenum">[56]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Think not that the action of the place
          Is all revealed upon this open space;
          The darkest portion of the picture lies
          Obscur'd and cover'd up from public eyes;
          Here much you see, that bids you all mistrust,
          Much that provokes aversion and disgust;
          New friends, who coolly ask a one pound note,
          Or borrow for an hour, then pawn, your coat.
          Such stuff as this upon the surface swims;
          He little sees who but the surface skims.
          How much of fraud and finished wickedness,
          How much of deep despair and keen distress,
          Thought of by few, and seen by none, the while,
          Is chamber'd in the niches of this pile!"
</pre>
    <p>
      "Zounds," cried Dashall, "your pictures have so much light and shade, so
      much to admire, and so much to condemn, that there is scarcely any
      possibility of arriving at any conclusion.&mdash;Bless me, there is Dick
      Rakewell!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you know him?" said Merry well.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What the devil are you doing here?" cried a young man advancing, and at
      the same time catching the Honourable Tom Dashall by the hand; "Are you
      initiated, or merely come to take a peep at the curiosities of this
      menagerie? Have you tipp'd and shewn yourself in due form; or do you still
      sport a game leg among the gallants of Bond Street?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Fortunately," said Dashall, "I can still boast of the latter, and have no
      very strong inclination to aspire to all the honour and happiness of the
      former."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Grown serious and sedate; I suppose married, and ca'nt come&mdash;pretty
      wife&mdash;lots of children&mdash;love and fireside comfort at home&mdash;pleasure
      abroad&mdash;cash in hand, and care for nobody. That's the sort&mdash;give
      you joy with all my heart&mdash;never were such times."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am glad you find them so," continued Tom; "but your anticipations are a
      little too rapid, and your imagination rather too vivid for my proceeding;
      however, there is no knowing what we may come to; life is a labyrinth full
      of turnings and windings. But what brought you here?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Driven in by the Philistines," was the reply; "caught like a harmless
      dove by the Greeks&mdash;clean'd out.&mdash;By the cog, I was obliged to
      fly to this pigeon house, in order to avoid being cut up by my creditors;
      and, up to a little of the Newmarket logic, I am now crossing and justling
      though it is doubtful at present who will win the race."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You have not far to run, however," replied Dashall, "and it is therefore
      fair to presume the heat will soon be over."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[57]</span> "As usual," cried Rakewell, "always
      something short, but pungent, like a pinch of merry-go-up{1}&mdash;satire
      and sentiment&mdash;mirth, morality, and good humour&mdash;unmarried and
      still the same man. These are better subjects of congratulation than the
      former."
    </p>
    <p>
      "We shall dine at half past three," said Merry well, "and if you are
      inclined to make one along with us, you will find me at home."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I should have no objection to meet you abroad," exclaimed Rakewell; "but,
      however, I'm your man. Half past three, d&mdash;&mdash;nd unfashionable;
      but never mind,
    </p>
    <p>
      I'll pick a bone with you; and spite of dull care and high walls, 'locks,
      bolts, and bars, we'll defy you;' and my life for it we have a jolly
      afternoon. Is the cellar well stored, and the kitchen in good repair?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "All right, my boy!" exclaimed Merrywell, "bring your bellows{2} in good
      order, and don't be afraid of your bread basket.{3} The dibs are in
      tune.{4} A ball of fire,{s} a dose of daffy, or a blow out of black strap,
      will set the blue devils at defiance, give a spur to harmony, and set the
      spirits a jogging."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then at half past three I'll have a turn to with you," continued
      Rakewell; "so no more at present from your loving Cousin. I am going now
      to call on Fred. Fearnought; that fellow has deceived me; I thought him a
      trump, but he's eaten up with hopes and fears, tormented in mind, body,
      and estate, no more pluck than a dunghill chick. I must stir him up with a
      long pole, give him a lesson or two, touch him to the quick, and then
      quickly adjourn to you; so adieu for the present."
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus saying, he made his escape from his friends, and, passing through one
      of the entrances to the interior, was quickly out of sight.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," said Dashall, addressing his Cousin, "was one of the gayest of the
      gay in all the leading circles of <i>haut ton</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And I assure you," said Merrywell, "he has not lost one atom of his
      vivacity, notwithstanding the alteration in his circumstances; he is
      always full of humour, ready for a bit of fun even in confinement; he
      plays, laughs, sings, drinks, and is about one of the most cheerful
      companions I know."<span class="pagenum">[58]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Merry-go-up&mdash;Snuff.

     2 Bellows&mdash;A cant term for the lungs.

     3 Bread-basket&mdash;The stomach.

     4 The dibs are in tune&mdash;There is plenty of money.

     5 A ball of fire&mdash;A glass of brandy.
</pre>
    <p>
      "Then," rejoined Bob, "he is a philosopher, for he has learned to bear."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," continued Dashall, "but the other, and by far the most important,
      part of philosophy is to forbear."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," said Merry well, "he yet has to learn, and I have my doubts
      whether he will accomplish that desirable object while here. He has, with
      a moderate allowance from his father, contrived to drive his four-in-hand
      at times, to keep seven or more horses on his hunting and Town
      establishments; has kept some of the most dashing and expensive ladies,
      expensive male company; indulged in extravagant habits of all sorts, and
      has twinkled for a while in the highest gambling circles. A run of ill
      luck has at last sent him here, but not before he had honoured almost all
      the horse-dealers, coach-makers, and saddlers, gunsmiths and
      tavern-keepers in Town, with his custom, or rather with his name on their
      books. His father is a man of considerable property, which must eventually
      come to him, and he may yet form a conspicuous figure in High Life."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What have we here?" said Tallyho, stopping to read a paper displayed in
      the window of a barber's shop.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "The old and only established shop at the prison
     "price: shave well for one penny, hair fashionably cut
     "for twopence, at 17 in 16, first staircase round the corner."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Seventeen in sixteen&mdash;I don't understand this."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Each of the doors," said Merry well, "which lead to the apartments is
      numbered, as is likewise every room in each passage, by which means much
      facility is afforded to visitors who come to make a call upon their
      friends. The operator himself is a prisoner, and so are most of those who
      carry on trades; but opportunities are afforded for any person to come in
      and supply articles to the inhabitants; and at an early hour in the
      morning you may hear almost all the cries of London."<span class="pagenum">[59]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Milk, matches, eggs, and Epping sausages,
          Greens, water-cresses, chips, geranium trees;
          A brush or broom, deal wood, cow-heel, and tripe,
          Fresh butter, oranges all round and ripe;
          Rabbits, a kettle, jug, or coffee pot,
          Eels, poultry, home-bak'd bread, and rolls all hot;
          Shirt buttons, nosegays, coals, and God knows what
          Such are the goods that pass the lobby door,
          Cried in all tones that vary, squeak, and roar."
</pre>
    <p>
      "A little further on," said Merry well, "is the public kitchen, where, for
      a trifling fee, cooking is performed for the prisoners, and hot water
      supplied at a penny per kettle. Then there is a coffee-room and a tap-room
      for general accommodation, according to the circumstances of the inmates;
      so that in point of fact there is little to be regretted here, but the
      loss of liberty, and the want of money."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds," said Bob, "those two articles constitute all that is valuable in
      life, and in their absence it dwindles into mere existence.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "And bare existence man to live ordained,
          "Wrings and oppresses with enormous weight."
</pre>
    <p>
      "I admit the justice of the remark, for to become an article of
      vegetation, were it sure of continuance, would be one of the most irksome,
      as well as degrading situations to which a man could be reduced. But you
      should recollect, that the generality of persons who study in this College
      expect an early termination of their privations, by which hope is kept
      alive; and when the cherished hope is realized, of escaping from these
      walls, all recollection of the past is banished; and it is doubtful
      whether the temporary absence from the possibility of indulging in folly
      does not increase the possibility as well as the power, when at liberty."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Who do you call that man with his hands in his pockets?" pointing to a
      person at a short distance from them at the moment, in slovenly attire,
      and with a vacant countenance.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hush," replied Merry well, "for we have modest men here as well as
      elsewhere; men who, though they have rendered themselves famous (a more
      delicate term than notorious) are not emulous of having their deeds
      recorded in history, and are indeed very tenacious of satisfying
      enquiries: his name is F&mdash;rr&mdash;ter, not quite so vacant as he
      looks; for it is, generally speaking, not your empty-headed fellows who
      can arrive at the honour of a residence here, it is rather those of
      brilliant imagination, of aspiring talent, who have been determined to
      have money for a time, without heeding the source from which it was
      derived&mdash;who have been up to snuff, till they have reduced themselves
      to the necessity of resting contented with the marrow-bone stage instead
      of a phaeton or a <span class="pagenum">[60]</span> curricle, and twopenny
      in lieu of claret The person you allude to, however, is brother to Cecil F&mdash;rr&mdash;ter
      of Court notoriety, and has really been in possession of considerable
      property. It is said that his principal failing has been too strong an
      inclination to resort to the law, and that upon the law and lawyers he has
      expended the bulk of his fortune."
    </p>
    <p>
      "He cuts a curious figure now, however," said Tallyho, "and every view at
      first sight would take him for a. fortunate youth."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you observe that man in mustachios, now talking with P&mdash;&mdash;s?
      That is Captain R&mdash;&mdash;n, who bears a more striking resemblance in
      character to the celebrated youth you mention; he had at one time inspired
      a belief among those who knew him, that he was a man of property&mdash;married
      with a view to realize it; and upon comparing notes after the nuptial knot
      was tied, both parties discovered they were taken in; but it is not
      ascertained whether this mutual disappointment ended with smiles."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, it was no laughing matter," said Tom; "the lucky hit was all a
      miss."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, there was a Miss taken, and a Biter bit. Love is a lottery as well
      as life, and the chances two to one against the adventurer," replied
      Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It may be so," said Merrywell; "I am not fly{1} to the subject at
      present; perhaps Sparkle could by this time unravel some of its mysteries,
      and give beneficial lessons to us all: however, time is flying, we will
      just make one more turn, and then to dinner with what appetite we may. Do
      you observe the pericranium topp'd with a Prussian cap, and the wearer
      with a pipe in his mouth?"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Fit&mdash;To be up to any thing, to understand, to know, or be
     awake.
</pre>
    <p>
      "I was on the point of enquiry," said Bob; "Pray who is he?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "That is another Captain."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Who! One would almost think you have the whole army of Martyrs confined
      here," said Tallyho; "at all events, your ranks are not deficient of
      officers."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But then," said Dashall, "they are out of commission and out of
      practice."
    </p>
    <p>
      "For want of command," continued Merrywell; "though Capt. S&mdash;&mdash;,
      although never made a Commander in Chief, has been an exalted character,
      having once been made <span class="pagenum">[61]</span>inspector of the
      pavement,{1} or in other words knapp'd the stoop; and, if report says
      true, he has also figured away in other situations equally honourable&mdash;a
      flash turf man&mdash;a naval character, and a smuggler. But come, I have
      given you a sort of index by which you may read, mark, and learn more,
      when we are more at leisure. It is now half past three o'clock, and
      punctuality is always my motto."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Inspector of the pavement, or knapp'd the stoop&mdash;Cant term
     for the pillory.
</pre>
    <p>
      "Humph," ejaculated Tom; "Cash down, and no grumbling."
    </p>
    <p>
      "D&mdash;&mdash;n severity," was the reply; "no more of that, or we cut:
      touch my honour, and you touch my life."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dot and go one," cried Dashall. "Come along, Bob!" and catching his
      Cousin by the arm, they followed Merrywell in silence to his apartment in
      the State House.
    </p>
    <p>
      On arrival, they found the dinner on table; and Hakewell, true to his
      appointment, arrived before them. The keen air of Surrey, though rather
      confined, had furnished them with good appetites. Apologies were banished,
      and to it they went without "let, hinderance, or molestation"&mdash;the
      viands were good, the wines exquisite and plentiful. The cloth being
      removed, mirth and conviviality were the order of the day.
    </p>
    <p>
      Confusion to soft heads and hard hearts!&mdash;Parks and pleasure ground s
      without priories! were drank in bumpers with enthusiastic applause. The
      merriment and hilarity of Merrywell and his fellow student crowned the
      afternoon with as much pleasure and delight, as Bob conceived he could
      have found under unlimited circumstances. The good humour and hospitality
      of the host was manifested in the perfect satisfaction of those he
      entertained; and about eight o'clock, when Rakewell began to mangle his
      mother tongue, our friends, after dropping their mites into the canisters
      held out for their bounty, repassed the gates, well pleased and highly
      diverted with the information they had obtained, and the occurrences of
      the day; and not a little exhilarated by the Bacchanalian juice.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," said Tallyho, "this is a scene of <i>Real Life</i>, which I should
      judge could scarcely be equalled, and would almost induce one to wish for
      an opportunity of a residence along with the Collegians."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[62]</span> "Provided always nevertheless with an
      equal opportunity of leaving it when we please," said Dashall; "and
      probably we have only seen one of the best pictures it contains, for
      although we have been as jolly as Sandboys, there is a large store of
      misery unseen. But let us proceed. We shall soon be free from College
      Rules, and a thought strikes me, that we can make a call on our road that
      will afford another view of society equally amusing and refreshing. I have
      often observed to you, that in order to see Life, there is no necessity to
      buz about with court flies, to waste time and money in getting introduced
      to the tip tops of the West, to join what are termed the fashionable
      circles, and to end a fashionable career by a whereas or a whitewashing.
      The true student of Real Life should occasionally mingle with all
      descriptions of persons, mark the characters and their conduct; and,
      believe me, there are those in the humblest situations, who enjoy
      themselves in their own way with as much of heartfelt satisfaction as
      those in the highest, of which, I think, I shall be able to give you a
      decided proof before we reach home."
    </p>
    <p>
      They now pursued their way along the London Road and over Westminster
      Bridge, till Tom called a halt at the door of a friend.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come, Bob," said he, "here we must uncase&mdash;doff the present toggery,
      and turn out in new trim for the evening."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What!" enquired Bob, "another masquerade?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No, no," was the reply, "a temporary suspension of the dress and
      character of a gentleman, in order to avoid being tormented and suspected
      by the company to which I intend to introduce you."
    </p>
    <p>
      Finding his friend at home, they were quickly supplied with tatter'd
      garments and slouch'd hats, in which they again sallied forth, and about
      nine o'clock they entered a low public-house in Scotland-yard.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link3image-0003" id="link3image-0003">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page062.jpg" alt="Page62 Public House " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      "Fear nothing," said Tom, as they passed the threshold; "don't be flurried
      by any thing said to you, 'tis only a heavy-wet party among the
      coal-heaving coves."
    </p>
    <p>
      As Bob entered the room, his very first action betrayed him, for, being
      accustomed to genteel behaviour, he took off his hat, which was in a
      moment knocked out of his hand by a hard featured fellow near him, whose
      face indicated the want of water, although so near the river.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[63]</span> "Order, order," was vociferated in an
      instant by a jolly good-natured looking man exalted above the rest, who,
      at the same moment, rapped the table with his knuckles&mdash;"This here
      vay, gentlemen&mdash;Bill Muggins, mind you I arn't had your penny in the
      plate for Backy."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Vy, that's a lie!" roar'd out a Stentorian voice, "I never takes my seat
      before I sees my vay clear upon the board. I put a crooked ha' penny."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, and two bad fardens vhat an't vorth nothing,'' said another. "Make
      him tip" cried a third, "or else stick him in the nitch."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Stick him in the nitch&mdash;Send him to Coventry.
</pre>
    <p>
      Bob having regained his castor, followed his Cousin to the other end of
      the room, and after each depositing a penny in the plate, they took their
      seats at the table, where, being supplied with a flowing quart, they began
      to look around them.
    </p>
    <p>
      The first thing which struck Tallyho's eye, was "No trust," printed in
      large letters at one end of the room; a sort of indication, that a man
      without money would not be likely to meet with agreeable entertainment:
      then turning his head the other way, he discovered they were in a house of
      call for Coal Porters. Before the president (who, by way of distinction,
      had turned the broad flap of his coal-heaving hat forward in the fashion
      of a huntsman's cap) was placed a small round table, on which stood a
      gallon measure of heavy wet. On his right sat a worn-out workman fast
      asleep, and occasionally affording his friends around him a snoring
      accompaniment to a roar of laughter.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Silence, silence! vy don't you all be more quieter when I am going to
      begin?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Order, order, chair, chair!" now resounded from every one.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Vell, you know its no use at all for to make me take this here chair,
      because vy&mdash;I an't got no woice."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I knows better nor that," said Bill Muggins, "for, by &mdash;&mdash;ven
      you fell overboard the other day you roared like a rum un, and ven I
      pulled you out you squeaked like a pig, so that are proves vhat you have
      got two woices, and that's one more than you ought to have. Lord, Lord, if
      you had but seen him and I get drunk a'ter it, you would ha' laughed&mdash;Dick
      bolted blue ruin till his eyes sparkled just for all the vorld like a
      vooden spoon against a soot bag."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[64]</span> A general laugh succeeded this sally,
      which was accompanied by the speaker with a violent blow upon the table,
      which threatened confusion to the candles, glasses, and porter-pots, with
      which it was loaded.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Veil," continued the chairman, "you know its all my eye, I an't got no
      sing in me, so if you're a mind to be friendly, vill you heave out."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Vy, you know Dick, for the matter o' that are, I never refuses you
      nothing; nor, vhat's more, I never vont, so here goes.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Vhat a hearty blade am I,
          Care ca'nt never touch my heart,
          Every trouble I defy,
          Vhile I views the foaming quawt.
          A very good song, and very well sung;
          Jolly kimpanions, every one,
          Clap your hats on, keep your heads vann,
          A little more liquor will do us no harm.
          Blankets and pins, blankets and pins,
          When a man's married his sorrow begins."
</pre>
    <p>
      The six last lines were repeated as a chorus, till every one appeared to
      be exhausted, and was succeeded by thunders of approbation, and reiterated
      cries of "Well done, Bill&mdash;go it, Bill&mdash;Bill Muggins for ever!"
      and the still unabated snoring of their companion in the corner.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Bill Muggins a'nt nothing but a good'un, Gemmen,"said the President;
      "here's his health. Landlord, bring him a bolus of blue ruin. I say, Bill,
      vhat shall ve say a'ter that are good song?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here's bad luck and no blue ruin to bad masters, and leg o' mutton and
      turnups for trumps&mdash;that's all I got to say, so here goes."
    </p>
    <p>
      The toast being drank,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Who is ve to call on now, Bill?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Vy, Bob Martlet's the boy to come it strong."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob Martlet was accordingly called upon, but requested a few minutes to
      prepare himself, as he was rather hoarse.
    </p>
    <p>
      During this interregnum, Dashall slipped out of the room, and gave the
      landlord an order to place two bowls of punch on the tables, cautioning
      him at the same time to say nothing of the party who paid for it, but to
      say that a Gentleman, passing by the door and hearing them all merry, had
      given an order for it at the bar.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[65]</span> Upon re-entering the room, Bob Martlet,
      with one eye bound up and his hat in his hand, was bawling with lungs of
      leather,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Lovely nymph!  assuage my anguish,
          At thy feet a tender swain,
          Prays you will not let him languish,
          One kind look would ease his pain.
          Did you know the lad who courts you,
          He not long need sue in vain&mdash;
          Prince of song and dance&mdash;you
          Scarce will meet his like again!
</pre>
    <p>
      As this was a song to be sung in character, Bob Martlet determined to
      profit by the instructions of Shakspeare, "to suit the action to the word,
      and the word to the action," and consequently at the word "dance," he
      introduced some steps to the great entertainment of the company; but
      unfortunately jigging to another tune, in which all the broad brims
      joined, he forgot the connexion of the words, and was compelled to sing it
      over again, and to give his hornpipe by way of conclusion, which was
      accompanied by the barking of a dog.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho laughed heartily at this; the grotesque appearance of the "tender
      swain," and the dance in wooden shoes, were admirable, and highly relished
      by his companions. The room resounded with applauses, and it was some
      moments before silence could be obtained, when, lo and behold, the
      landlord entered the room as a peace-breaker with two bowls of punch.
    </p>
    <p>
      Consternation and surprise were visible in every countenance. The
      confusion of tongues could scarcely equal the enquiries made in a moment;
      but the landlord, having his cue, made no reply. But there it is, will you
      drink it? It is all your own&mdash;and, to set you a good example, here
      goes&mdash;Success to trade!&mdash;and took a hearty swig from the bowl he
      placed before the President; then, taking the other bowl to the lower end
      of the room, he evaporated, but soon returned with glasses. Where he came
      from or how it was obtained, was banished from consideration, and to make
      more, the remnant of a pot of heavy wet was thrown into the bowl to mellow
      it, as the President observed, because vy he liked things mellow. The
      punch was handed about, the song and the toast passed merrily in
      succession till near twelve, when an unlucky disturber of harmony, with a
      candle set fire to the whisker of Phill the flue faker so called from his
      <span class="pagenum">[66]</span>having in his younger days been a
      chimney-sweeper. Phill, who had slept during the noise of the evening,
      was, notwithstanding his former trade, not fire-proof, awoke in a flame,
      and not knowing the real depredator, upset the President, and nearly
      knock'd him through a window just behind him&mdash;mill'd away in all
      directions, growling with as much melody as he had before snored. During
      the confusion of this affray, Tom and Bob took their departure from
      Charley's Crib, which they understood was a nickname given to the place,
      and, throwing themselves into a rattler, soon arrived in Piccadilly, where
      we shall for the present leave them to their repose.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0005" id="link32HCH0005">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER V
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Since Life's but a jest, let us follow the rule,
          There's nothing so pleasant as playing the fool,
          In town we may practise, as well as at school.

          The world turns about the same things o'er and o'er;
          We fool it&mdash;our forefathers fool'd it before;
          They did what we do, which our sons will encore.

          Life's but a half holiday, lent us to stare;
          We wander and wonder in vanity's fair,
          All, baby-like, bawling for each bawble there:

          We, children like, covet the glitter of gay things,
          Make racket for ribbands, and such sort of play-things,
          Which we cannot have tho'&mdash;without we can say things.

          We take, or are in all our turns, taken in;
          The world to be sure&mdash;'tis a shame and a sin,&mdash;
          Might soon be much better&mdash;but who will begin?"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[67]</span> "LONDON," said the Hon. Tom Dashall to
      his Cousin, "abounds with so much of munificence, that notwithstanding all
      its intricacies and inconveniences, he who travels through life without
      visiting it, may justly be said to know nothing; for it is all Life, its
      remotest corners are full of animation, and although it is difficult to
      fancy how all live, there are few but could give some satisfactory
      information if they chose, though I am willing to believe many would
      rather wish to avoid interrogation. We have already explored some parts of
      it, but be assured there is still much to admire, much to applaud, and
      much to deprecate. Our researches, after all, have been rather confined
      than extensive. It is such an ever varying and never ceasing mine of
      observation, that it is almost like the wishing cap of Fortunatus, with
      this exception, that although every wish may be supplied, it requires
      something more than putting on the cap to obtain the object desired."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[68]</span> "From what I have already seen," replied
      Tallyho, "I perfectly coincide with you in the latter part of your
      observation, for I have no doubt but perseverance and integrity, with some
      portion of ability, is sure to meet reward."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are right," continued Tom; "many instances could be pointed out in
      proof of the justice of that remark: some of the greatest men of the
      present day have rose from the lowest origin. Shop-boys and porters have
      become tradesmen and merchants; shoe-blacks have become statesmen, and
      servants councillors. But on the other hand, many who have been born, as
      the old saying is, 'with a silver spoon in their mouths,' have 'fallen
      from their high estates,' and lingered out the latter parts of their lives
      in prisons or work-houses, laying the blame on fate, rather than
      attributing failure to their own want of ability, prudence, or active
      exertion. But come, I perceive the curricle is ready; let us take a spank
      through the City, and look a little more minutely at the mercantile
      world."
    </p>
    <p>
      This call was instantly obeyed by Tallyho, who never doubted but his
      Cousin had some object in view, though he frequently started from
      Piccadilly without being previously acquainted with it.
    </p>
    <p>
      Passing out at Hyde Park Corner, Bon remarked that he thought the City lay
      the other way.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind," replied Dashall, "we shall come to the point without doubt.
      Why, man, there are more ways than one, and I am not particularly partial
      to being blocked up in the public streets, amidst <i>knowing jarveys and
      cramp carmen</i>, sugar hogsheads, molasses, and slush carts, which is so
      frequently the case, when by a slight deviation from the direct way, we
      can give the tits a rattler on a good road without obstruction, and pocket
      a handful of time into the bargain."
    </p>
    <p>
      He now turned into the road which leads directly to Vauxhall Bridge; on
      arriving at which, Tallyho was much delighted with an extensive view of
      the Thames.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This," said Dashall, "will bring us to a favourite place of amusement,
      where you have already cut a conspicuous figure."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What do you mean?" enquired his Cousin.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A masquerade," replied he significantly. "Go along Bob."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[69]</span> Passing gently over the Bridge, "Do you
      observe," continued he, "that extensive building? That is called the
      Penitentiary. It is a building designed for the punishment, employment,
      and reformation of offenders of secondary turpitude, usually punished by
      transportation for a term of years. It has been conceived since the
      commencement of the disputes which terminated in the separation of the
      American States. The plan of it is known to be partly that of Mr. Jeremy
      Bentham. The culprits are confined in circular buildings, the windows of
      which are so constructed, that the overseer from his room in the centre
      may be able to view every one of their rooms. The external wall encloses
      no less than eighteen acres of ground, within which are six of these
      circular buildings, each capable of lodging and employing from 150 to 200
      prisoners, with a chapel, infirmary, and other conveniences. Its situation
      is called Millbank."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It looks," said Bob, "like a castle, or tower, of impregnable strength."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is, however," continued Tom, "a useful institution, since it
      supersedes that indiscriminate transportation so long practised, and
      which, as applied to definite periods, was cruel and unjust, since the
      wretched objects were precluded from the power of ever returning to their
      native land, however short the intended period of their banishment. This
      part of the world is much improved of late years. The Bridge we are now
      passing, is an admirable light and elegant structure, but recently
      erected, according to the plan of Mr. J. Walker, and connects, as you
      perceive, by a straight line of road with Hyde Park Corner. The road
      before us leads to Newington Cross, and thence by various ways to the
      City. The Bridge consists of nine arches, of equal span, in squares of
      cast iron, on piers of rusticated stone formed of fragments, united by
      means of Parker's cement. Its width is 809 feet, the span of the arches 78
      feet, the height 29 feet, and the clear breadth of the road way is 36
      feet. It cost above 300,000L. But we shall shortly cross another bridge,
      far surpassing it in point of magnificence."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is wonderful indeed," said Bob, "that in a country complaining of a
      starving population, such serious sums of money should be expended in the
      erection of splendid mansions and magnificent bridges."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[70]</span> "Not at all," was the reply, "for
      perhaps it is one of the best ways of expending, as it gives employment to
      thousands who would otherwise have become beggars on private charity, or
      paupers on public bounty, either of which is revolting to the mind of an
      Englishman: besides, if your observation applied at all, it would cut at
      every improvement of the day; and you should recollect, that, whether upon
      true foundations or not, every generation think the age they live in is
      the most enlightened: so it may be with respect to the preceding, and
      indeed, so much so, that the succeeding will rather decline than improve
      upon it, but it would be difficult to convince them of the fact. It is
      certain, however, that scarcely a day passes but some new invention or
      improvement is offered to public notice. The perusal of the newspapers is
      an evidence of my assertion; and as London is the centre of attraction, so
      it is the seat of knowledge, of science and information."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I should judge, that if a person who had lived some two hundred years
      ago, even in this wild place, were to rise up amongst us, his surprise and
      astonishment would be strongly excited," said Bob, endeavouring to draw
      forth more of his observations as they bowled along the road.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There can be no question on that subject," said Tom, "for how would the
      high ideas he entertained of the ingenuity of the age in which he had
      lived, dwindle into nothing! Nay, should he appear in the country first,
      what would he think of the various implements of husbandry, for ploughing,
      and preparing the land; the different machines for sowing the corn, for
      threshing, grinding, and dressing it; and in numerous instances (though
      perhaps not quite so much now as it has been, on account of the present
      agricultural distresses) he would find something else too which he might
      not consider an improvement: instead of meeting the honest homely farmer,
      assisting personally in the gathering in his crops, and his daughter
      following the cart with a rake, he would find the former mounted on his
      Prad following the hounds, and the latter at boarding school. Instead of
      the farmer's son bringing home his cows of an evening, and his sister
      going out to meet him at the sound of his well known voice, with her
      milk-white pail, he would find the one poring over Latin and Greek, and
      the other running her fingers over the chords of a harp or piano-forte."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[71]</span> "These," said Bob, "are refinements in
      manners at least."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then, should he take a peep at London, as we are now doing, he would be
      struck dumb with admiration. But here we are on the Waterloo Road. That
      building on the right is the Coburg Theatre, so named in compliment to the
      Prince of Saxe Coburg, who married the unfortunate Princess Charlotte of
      Wales, the much regretted daughter of our present King. Before us is
      Waterloo Bridge, which leads to the Strand, and was originally denominated
      the Strand Bridge; it is acknowledged to be one of the most majestic
      structures of the kind, perhaps, in the known world, and was built under
      the direction of the late Mr. Rennie, to whose memory it is said a
      monument is intended to be erected. The Bridge consists of nine equal
      arches, and like the bridges of the ancients, is perfectly flat, which you
      perceive the road we are now travelling is not, for in some instances you
      may look over the wall upon another world below, as we are above the tops
      of the houses. Its being level is a circumstance highly favourable to the
      draught of carriages across it, and without any apparent subtraction from
      its beauty. We will alight here and walk leisurely across, taking time for
      remark."
    </p>
    <p>
      The servants now took charge of the curricle, with orders to wait at the
      corner of the Strand, while our heroes, having each deposited his penny at
      the toll-house, strolled forward.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho appeared delighted with the views around him: In the front, a fine
      prospect of one of the finest cities in the world, and behind an equally
      pleasing sight over the Surrey Hills. The day being fine, and the sun
      darting his refulgent beams on the bosom of the Thames, contributed to
      form, altogether, one of the most enraptured sights he had ever beheld.
      The passing and repassing of boats and barges below; and carriages,
      horsemen, and pedestrians, crossing the bridge, alternately attracted his
      attention.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Each arch of this bridge," said Dashall, "is 120 feet span; the piers 20
      feet thick, with Tuscan columns; the width between the parapets 42 feet;
      these footpaths are seven feet each, and the road-way is 28 feet. The cost
      has been immense, and it is not likely that the original subscribers will
      ever realize the capital expended."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[72]</span> At this moment the sound of music
      attracted the ears of Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What have we here?" said he, thrusting his head through the balustrades,
      by which he found himself almost suffocated with smoke, which stopped
      further enquiry.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Behold," said Tom, "another improvement of the age; that is the Richmond
      Steam Boat, proceeding with a cargo of live stock to that celebrated place
      of public resort, and, in spite of wind and weather, will return in the
      evening. They always have a band of music on board, for the amusement of
      their passengers."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds," said Bob, "they ought to have a smoke-consumer."
    </p>
    <p>
      "They had one just now," replied Tom; "for I apprehend you assisted them
      in some degree, though not voluntarily."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are smoking me," said Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind, you have only been puffing a cloud."
    </p>
    <p>
      "However, as the mist is dispelled," said Tallyho, "and we have, a clear
      sky before us again, let us make use of our senses."
    </p>
    <p>
      "To the right you perceive Blackfriars' Bridge, and beyond that the
      Southwark Bridge. By the way, we were speaking of the alterations to be
      witnessed in a country life. We will now pursue the subject, and suppose
      for a moment our two-thousand-years-ago friend, after his visit among the
      Swains, inclined to transfer his observations to the Great Town. The first
      question would be, How shall I get there? Oh, there are plenty of night
      coaches, and day coaches too, Sir. Well, then "fancy him seated in a night
      coach, and having supped on the road, on resuming his corner of the
      vehicle, he falls into a sound sleep. Guess what must be his surprise on
      waking in the morning, to find himself in the bustle and apparent
      confusion of the streets of the Metropolis. But how altered! Wide streets
      and upright houses, instead of narrow lanes with houses meeting each other
      at the tops. Then what elegant shops!&mdash;He would exclaim, rubbing his
      eyes, 'Why, this is all a dream
    </p>
    <p>
      "Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[73]</span> 'It cannot be reality!'&mdash;However,
      he swallows a hasty breakfast, and sallies out again to look about him.
      From London Bridge he espies the one I have just mentioned, the Southwark
      Bridge.&mdash;'What have we here?'&mdash;'Oh, Sir, that is the cast-iron
      bridge, with three arches, over the Thames.' He hastens to it, and when
      upon it, what must be his astonishment, at the power of the human mind to
      form, and of the human body to bring together, such immense pieces of
      iron? To connect Queen Street, Cheapside, with the Kent and Surrey Roads
      by three arches, the centre of which is 240 feet span, and the side ones
      210 feet each, the arches all composed of cast iron, the piers and
      abutments of stone. 'Zounds,' he would exclaim, 'if the race of man
      dwindle in stature, they grow daily more stupendous in intellect! 'But we
      will suppose, like you, with an anxiety to see all that can be seen, he
      perceives a machine sailing down the river with astonishing velocity;
      'Why, formerly,' said he, 'wind and tide against a vessel were
      insurmountable obstacles in its passage, but now they seem to add to its
      swiftness; how is this to be accounted for? '&mdash;'Easily enough,'
      replies a bye-stander; 'Lord bless you, it's all done by steam. Hot water
      and smoke do every thing now-a-days! Why there are a great number of
      machines, which formerly required from two to forty or more horses each to
      put and keep in motion, entirely worked by the steam arising from boiling
      water.'&mdash;' Prodigious! Steam do all that! Astonishing!'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "And truly," replied Bob, "notwithstanding I have witnessed many
      improvements, I confess I am astonished at the various uses to which this
      discovery has already been devoted, and the extraordinary powers it
      possesses.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, we will pursue the train of thought a little further: Suppose,
      perambulating the streets till he is quite tired, and seeing alterations
      and changes out of number, he enters a Coffee House, eats a hearty meal,
      and taking a glass or two of wine, he falls into a musing train of ideas
      of the wonders he has been witnessing, from which he is not disturbed,
      till the hoarse voice of a Charley sounds in his ear, 'Past ten o'clock,
      and a cloudy night,' at which he hastily starts up, discharges his bill,
      and prepares, by buttoning up close and securing his trusty stick, for (as
      he would naturally expect) a dull dreary walk. He sallies out thus
      equipped, and, to his utter astonishment, finds the streets as busy as in
      the middle of the day, and almost as light. He steps up to one of the
      lights to <span class="pagenum">[74]</span> examine it&mdash;'What can
      this be? It is not oil, there is no vessel to contain it; surely this
      can't be steam also! But what can it be?'&mdash;'Gas, Sir,' says a
      passenger, who overhears the question, 'Gas; it is produced from coals set
      on fire and confined in a furnace, the subtle vapour from which is
      conveyed by means of pipes, and, light applied to it, immediately bursts
      into a flame.' His astonishment would now be complete, and if he did sleep
      after, it would be difficult to persuade him it was not all a dream."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Our wise forefathers knew the worth of land,
          And bank'd the Thames out with laborious hand;
          From fresh encroachments bound it's restless tide
          Within a spacious channel deep and wide.
          With equal pains, revers'd, their grandsons make
          On the same spot a little inland lake;
          Where browsing sheep or grazing cattle fed,
          The wondrous waters new dominion spread;
          Where rows of houses stood through many a street
          Now rows of ships present a little fleet.
          Nay, we had made, had Nature not refus'd,
          Had Father Thames not begg'd to be excus'd,
          A pretty tunnel underneath his bed,
          And left him running, grumbling, over head;
          Had scratch'd a track out, like a grubbing mole,
          Through a long, dark, and damp and dirty hole&mdash;
          Like rats in sewers, had flounder'd through the mud,
          Instead of sailing, duck-like, o'er the flood;
          But bubbling springs chok'd up the project deep,
          And trickling waters on our folly weep."
</pre>
    <p>
      By this time they had crossed the Bridge, and having regained the
      curricle, the Hon. Tom Dashall tickled the <i>tits</i> in prime style
      along the Strand, in the road to the City. Soon after passing Temple Bar,
      they were attracted by a vast concourse of persons surrounding the shop of
      Mr. Carlile,{1} from whence upon enquiry they learnt the
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Perhaps some of the most remarkable occurrences in the
     City of London have taken place at the house of Carlile. The
     whole family have been tried and convicted of selling
     treasonable or seditious works, and are now suffering the
     sentence of the law. But, notwithstanding the combined
     efforts of a powerful body, the shop is kept open, and it is
     more than likely that a greater business is carried on now
     than ever. In a recent Number of the Re-publican, published
     by him, he makes the following observations:&mdash;

     "Since my last went to press, we have thought it prudent to
     resort to stratagem to defeat the schemes of the Gang, in
     taking out every new hand from the shop by a warrant.    We
     now sell all publications, to suspicious and unsuspicious
     customers, through a hole in a part of the shop, where it is
     impossible for the purchaser to identify the seller, as
     there are always two or three serving in the back ground,
     none of whom can be seen or heard, to be identified
     individually. These persons are frequently changed, so that
     even if the enemy resorted to burglary and house-breaking,
     upon the strength of any warrant, the seller of any pamphlet
     or pamphlets could not be identified. Where the statue of
     Paine stood, we are about to caricature the defeat of Murray
     and Sharpe, and make them watch the hole through which the
     money and pamphlets pass, without being able to prevent it.
     There are fifty stratagems by which I could give full effect
     to the sale of my publications, as well as if they were
     sold openly, and which would defy prosecution, as the vender
     could not be identified. I dislike this mode of doing
     business; I like open, fair play; and I now make a
     proposition to Stoddart, Clarke, Murray, and Sharp, that I
     will do every thing openly, and give them the name of every
     individual in my employ from time to time, if they will
     confine themselves to the professions they have made through
     "Cato," their scribe, and not arrest until a Grand Jury have
     pronounced a true Bill against the individual. If they will
     not accept this proposition, they shall arrest no more, and
     my business shall go on just the same. I tell them, for
     their comfort, that the pamphlets sold daily through the
     hole, have doubled the number of those sold openly
     heretofore. Public curiosity they have excited, and am
     reaping the benefit. They cannot put-me down. I will put
     them down. Let the result bear witness. My friend in the
     enemy's camp and councils, has my thanks for his valuable
     information. He will perceive that all his information and
     instructions have been acted upon."

     The previous observations of Mr. Carlile are admirably
     elucidated by the following Police Report of one of the
     Newspapers:

     The Bridge-street Association.&mdash;After a cessation of
     hostilities for two or three days, Mr. Secretary Murray, and
     the forces of the Bridge Street Association under his
     command, re-assembled at this Justice-room [Guildhall] on
     Saturday.

     Mr. Honorary Secretary Sharp was also in attendance, and
     remained in the public room with the Yeomen, while the Co-
     Secretary was indulged with a private interview with the
     Magistrate, Mr. Alderman Birch, in the parlour. Mr. Newman,
     the City Solicitor, was also called into council, and
     remained iu consultation with Secretary Murray some time;
     there was much marching and countermarching in and out of
     the office on the part of the Secretary and the Yeomen, but
     no public application on the part of the Association was
     made to the Alderman, and it was understood that there was
     much difficulty in determining the manner of renewing, with
     any prospect of success, the attacks upon the inmates of
     "The Temple of Reason."

     The difficulty, it seems, arose from the new mode of defence
     adopted  by the besieged.    The little parlour which
     adjoins the shop has been converted into a citadel, the
     glass partition which separates them is closely blinded, and
     the operations carried on in ambush behind it; two of the
     squares of glass have been taken out, and in the place of
     one of them is erected a box with an aperture for the
     receipt of money, over which is an inscription, "Put your
     money in here;" and in the other, a contrivance by which the
     pamphlet wanted is slid down to the purchaser from the
     inside of the citadel. This machinery, however, is used only
     for the sale of such works as have already been made the
     object of prosecution. The seller is invisible, and the
     identification of his person rendered impracticable, unless
     the citadel be taken by storm. Little Waddington, heretofore
     the Radical standard-bearer, whose own experience has
     procured for him an extensive acquaintance with the persons
     of officers and informers, has assumed the command, and
     conducts the operations in the front shop, where the sale of
     such of Carlile's publications as have not as yet come under
     the censure of the law, is carried on as usual.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[76]</span> officers of the Police had just taken
      one of the shopmen in custody, for vending an alleged seditious or
      treasonable publication, upon the information of a Yeoman in the pay of
      the Bridge Street Gang. The crowd of persons induced our friends to make a
      little further enquiry into the cause, who were soon informed, that in
      consequence of the repeated attempts to stop the issue of books and
      pamphlets sold, at what is denominated the Temple of Reason, a part of the
      shop had been boarded off, so as completely to screen the venders of any
      publication from the eye of the purchaser, and by this means to render
      abortive all future attempts to identify any supposed offender.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why," said Dashall, "it is an old saying, and I believe a very true one,
      If you tread upon a worm it will turn. Such appears to be exemplified in
      the case of this man. You have also heard me remark, that in London it
      signifies little by what means a man obtains popularity, and here is a
      case exactly in point. An extensive body of rich men have combined their
      efforts to crush an individual of little importance in the world, and who
      perhaps would before this have been forgotten, but for their indiscreet
      interference with his pursuits. They are now not only foiled in their
      endeavours to obtain fresh exercise for their Yeomen, and more work for
      their Lawyers, but, in consequence of their determined opposition, the
      world is likely to be deluged with every obnoxious publication, without
      any chance of detecting the sellers."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is a curious manouvre," said Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, and it appears to have the desired effect with the Carliles and
      their adherents. They carry on the war in ambuscade, and are selling,
      without fear, books and <span class="pagenum">[77]</span> pamphlets, of
      which but for the <i>Constitutional Committee</i>, as they call
      themselves, perhaps half the world would have known nothing. Such,
      however, is frequently the effect of intemperate zeal, and these Gentlemen
      have blown into notoriety that which they intended to suppress, whether
      upon the substantial grounds of reason or propriety, I leave others to
      decide."
    </p>
    <p>
      Becoming now entangled in a double row of carriages, with little prospect
      of making further progress for some time, our friends resigned the
      curricle to the care of the servant, and proceeded on foot to the City
      Coffee House, Ludgate Hill, for refreshment.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 When the City Coffee House was first opened, Dr. Johnson
     frequently called there, and one morning observing a large
     book upon the table, took it up, and after inspecting the
     outside with great attention, he found it to be Minshew's
     Dictionary of Twelve Languages; upon which he turned round
     to the master of the house and asked him, "What use he could
     have for such a book?" "To amuse literary Gentlemen," was
     the reply. "Do you under-stand any of these languages?" "I
     find it a very difficult task, Sir, to understand my own,
     and I am not possessed of the erudition of a Johnson." The
     Doctor looked at him stedfastly and replied, "Sir, you are a
     very impudent fellow." "Sir, I am sorry you think so,"
     replied the proprietor, "and I hope we shall both of us mend
     our manners." On this the Doctor drank his chocolate, and
     marched out of the house.
</pre>
    <p>
      This Coffee House is much resorted to, and, in point of comfortable
      accommodation, is perhaps not surpassed by any in London.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having regaled themselves, and looked over the leading papers of the day,
      they proceeded to inspect the interior of that noble edifice, the pride of
      the British empire, St. Paul's Cathedral.
    </p>
    <p>
      "According to vulgar tradition," said Dashall, "this church occupies the
      site of a Roman temple, which was consecrated to Diana; but the son of Sir
      Christopher Wren, in his Parentalia, controverts this opinion, and
      contends, that the first cathedral of the Episcopal see of London was
      built in the area, the seat of the Roman Prætorian camp, the precise spot
      on which the present church stands. It is supposed to have been destroyed
      in the general persecution under the emperor Dioclesian, to have been
      re-edified under Constantine, to have been demolished by the Pagan Saxons,
      and to have been restored in the seventh century, when the Saxons embraced
      <span class="pagenum">[78]</span> Christianity. From this period it has
      been four times rebuilt, and at the great fire of London was totally
      destroyed."
    </p>
    <p>
      These remarks premised by Dashall for the information of his friend, they
      proceeded to view the several statues and funeral monuments, displayed
      with uniformity and executed with considerable taste, by which the
      interior of the church has been much improved in appearance.{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      After having examined these stately and expressive mementos of mortality,
      the two visitors were asked by their attendant, whether they would pass to
      the stone and iron galleries outside of the church; but this, having so
      lately enjoyed the extensive prospect from the Monument, they declined,
      and proceeded at once to the Library, the first object to be seen in the
      ascent.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our two visitors were very much pleased with this handsome room, which in
      its dimensions is about fifty feet by forty, having shelves of books to
      the top, with a gallery
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The statues of Dr. Johnson, and Howard the philanthropist,
     both executed by the late Mr. Bacon, were opened for public
     inspection in 1796. That of Dr. Johnson represents a moral
     philosopher, with the attitude and expression of intense
     thought, leaning against a column, indicative of the
     firmness of mind and stability of principles of the man whom
     it is intended to commemorate.

     The statue of Howard, in which the character of active
     benevolence is well expressed, stands upon a pedestal of
     white marble, on which is a group of bas-relief,
     representing a scene in a prison, where the philanthropist,
     having broken the chains of the prisoners, is bringing
     provision and clothing for their relief.

     The statue of Sir William Jones, a man well known for his
     extensive and multifarious erudition, whose study it was to
     make the British name honoured and revered amongst the
     nations of the East, is also the work of Bacon, and was
     erected by the East India Company.

     Amongst the monuments lately raised in commemoration of de-
     parted worth, is that of Nelson, and in design and execution
     it is not exceeded by any in the Cathedral.

     In the open part of the Cathedral, the stranger will be
     struck with the appearance of numerous tattered flags, the
     trophies of British valour. Those over the aisle leading
     from the western door, were taken in part during the
     American War, and the rest by the Duke of York at
     Valenciennes. Those on both sides near the north door, were
     reprisals made from the French by Lord Howe, on the 1st of
     June, 1794; opposite to which, on the right hand, are the
     flags taken from the Spaniards by Lord Nelson, in 1797; and
     on the left are those taken from the Dutch by Lord Duncan,
     at Camperdown, and by Lord Keith at the Cape of Good Hope.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[79]</span>running along the sides. The floor is of
      oak, consisting of 2376 small square pieces, and is not only curious for
      its being inlaid, without a nail or a peg to fasten the parts, but is very
      neat in the workmanship, and beautiful in its appearance. The principal
      things pointed out to a stranger, are several carved stone pillars, some
      Latin manuscripts, written by Monks 800 years ago, and an English
      manuscript illuminated, containing rules for the government of a convent,
      written in old English, about 500 years since, all in fine preservation.
    </p>
    <p>
      The clock-work and the great bell were the next curiosities that attracted
      the attention of our visitants. On the latter, weighing 11,470lbs. the
      hammer of the clock strikes the hours. It was now noon, and the ponderous
      hammer put itself into motion, and slowly, yet with astounding impetus,
      struck the bell, and the reverberation tingled on the auricular organs of
      the two strangers with painful and stunning effect throughout the long
      protracted intimation of the hour; nor was it until a considerable time
      had elapsed, that their hearing recovered from the clanging agitation.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This bell is never tolled but upon the death of some of
     the Royal Family, of the Bishop of London, or of the Dean of
     St. Paul's, and then the clapper is moved and not the bell.
     In the stillness of night, the indication of the hour by the
     deeply sonorous tone of this bell may be heard, not merely
     over the immense Metropolis, but in distant parts of the
     country. The fact is well known of the sentry at Windsor,
     who, when accused of having been asleep one night on his
     post, denied the charge, saying, "That he had been listening
     to St. Paul's in London, which had just struck thirteen!"
     And this assertion was, upon enquiry, satisfactorily
     corroborated.
</pre>
    <p>
      They were now ushered into the <i>Whispering Gallery</i>, which is
      constructed on the very simple principle of an unbroken communication. It
      is 140 yards in circumference, and a stone seat runs round the gallery
      along the foot of the wall. On the side directly opposite to the entrance
      door, Dashall and his friend seated themselves, when the person who shewed
      the gallery whispered close to the door, at the distance of 140 feet, and
      yet they heard his voice seemingly at their ear. The shutting of the door
      resembled a clap of thunder. From this gallery, round the inner circle of
      which is an iron balustrade, the marble pavement of the church exhibits a
      beautiful appearance, and the paintings of the dome, which have <span
      class="pagenum">[80]</span> greatly suffered by time, are thence seen to
      the greatest advantage.
    </p>
    <p>
      The ascent to the ball is attended by some difficulty, and is not
      encountered by many. Our two visitants therefore declined its inspection.
      The interior diameter of the ball is six feet two inches, and will contain
      twelve persons.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 A new ball and cross have lately replaced the former, of
     similar dimensions. The erection of the scaffolding, and
     subsequent proceedings of the workmen, at so fearful a
     height from the "haunts of men," excited a very general
     interest, more particularly so on the recent happy
     accomplishment of the undertaking, when the in-trepid
     aeronauts cheered the admiring multitude far beneath, and,
     seated in the clouds like the deities of Mount Olympus,
     drank to the prosperity of their friends in the nether
     regions.
</pre>
    <p>
      The best view of the metropolis is obtained, in a clear day, from the
      gallery at the foot of the lantern. The diminutive appearance of the
      passengers and other objects beneath is extremely amusing, and resembles
      the Elfin Panorama of the capital of Lilliput.
    </p>
    <p>
      The calm serenity of the interior, the awful grandeur of the structure
      itself, and the reflections arising from the contemplation of monuments
      erected to the memory of departed worth, with the splendid achievements of
      heroic minds, formed a strange contrast to the scene which presented
      itself to their view on leaving this magnificent pile. The hurry, bustle,
      and confusion of the street, the noisy vociferations of coachmen, carmen,
      &amp;c. burst upon their senses at a moment when the mind had been soothed
      by reflection, and the eye gratified with a sight which led imagination
      into futurity, before which the past and the present had appeared to
      evaporate. The Hon. Tom Dashall, however, was quickly recalled by
      observing his curricle so completely hemmed in between contending parties
      to obtain liberation at the corner of Paul's chain, as to afford but
      little chance of escape from its intricate situation for some time.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds," said Tom, "we had better return and take a seat among the
      worthies within, for I have no idea of mounting the curricle, to sit and
      be quizzed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Any chance," said Bob, "is better than that; but at all events your man
      is able to take care of the carriage and cattle, and we are competent to
      the care of ourselves."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well hinted," replied Tom, "and it shall be acted upon."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[81]</span> Thus saying, he made his way through the
      throng, and gave orders for the curricle to proceed home as soon as it
      could be extricated from its present confinement. Then returning to his
      Cousin,
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is not the first time I have been disappointed; I had made up my mind
      to proceed much farther; but the very scenes we have been inspecting are
      proofs of the inability of man to perform all his wishes, although
      equally' a proof of the splendid talents and determined valour of our
      renowned and deservedly remembered countrymen, and are well calculated to
      inspire us with patience, fortitude, and forbearance. At the other door we
      can escape from the bustle of this side; and perhaps the best thing we can
      do under existing circumstances, will be to speed homewards, and after
      dinner relax a little from our toils, in order to recruit for further
      activity."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Have with you," said Bob; "we have enjoyed the first part of the day on a
      variety of interesting subjects, and after a cheerful and refreshing ride,
      have at last arrived at the threshold of eternity. We may as well escape
      for this time if we can, and cheat the grim tyrant of mankind. Although
      our ride has been a long one, our walk back is but short, so let us lose
      no time."
    </p>
    <p>
      In accordance with this recommendation, he caught hold of Dashall's arm,
      proceeded through the Cathedral, and arrived at Piccadilly without any
      thing remarkable or particular to record, where we shall for the present
      leave them to their enjoyments among the able writers with which Tom's
      bookcase was well stored.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0006" id="link32HCH0006">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Hail! venerable pile! with awe I tread
          The sacred mansion of th' illustrious dead!
          Where rise, o'er forms now mould'ring into dust,
          The "storied urn" and "animated West."&mdash;
          Beneath the fretted dome, aspiring high,
          Here monarchs, heroes, poets, sages, lie!
          "Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue,"
          Here sleeps the bard with those whom erst he sung;
          And all consigned to one impartial doom,
          Lo! kings and subjects levelled in the tomb!
</pre>
    <p>
      IN a perambulation westward, our friends shortly reached the precinct of
      Westminster Abbey, or the collegiate Church of Saint Peter; the most
      ancient religious structure in the metropolis.
    </p>
    <p>
      Divested of fabulous narration, its history is briefly as follows. Its
      name is obviously derived from its situation, in the west, and from its
      original destination as the church of a monastery. It was founded by
      Sebert, king of the East Saxons; was destroyed afterwards by the Danes;
      was subsequently re-built by king Edgar in 958; the church was again
      re-built by Edward the Confessor in 1065; and by Pope Nicholas II. it was
      constituted a place of inauguration of the English Monarchs. Henry III.
      re-built it from the ground, and Henry VII. added a magnificent chapel at
      the east end of it. The monastery was surrendered by the abbot and monks
      to Henry VIII. who first converted it into a college of secular canons,
      and afterwards into a cathedral, of which the county of Middlesex was the
      see. His successor, Edward VI. dissolved the see, and restored the
      college, which was again converted by Mary into an abbey. That institution
      was dissolved by Elizabeth in 1560; she founded the present establishment,
      which is a college consisting of a dean, 12 secular canons, and 30 petty
      canons; to which is attached a school of 40 boys, denominated the Queen's
      or King's scholars, with a master and usher; and also twelve alms-men, an
      organist, and choristers.
    </p>
    <p>
      Its greatest length is 489 feet; the breadth of the west front 66 feet;
      the length of the cross aisle 189 feet; and the height of the roof 92
      feet; the west end is adorned with two towers, which were built by Sir
      Christopher Wren. The nave and cross aisles are supported by two rows of
      arches, of Sussex marble, one above the other, each of the pillars of
      which is a union of one massy round pillar, and tour others of a similar
      form, but slender. These aisles are lofty, and each of the small pillars
      being extended from the base to the roof, they produce an idea at once
      sublime and awful. Besides the cross aisle there are two side aisles,
      which are lower than the nave; and, being in a just proportion, they unite
      with the other parts of the edifice to produce a harmonious effect. The
      choir, from which there is an ascent by several steps to a magnificent
      altar-piece of white marble, is divided from the western part of the great
      aisle by two iron gates, and is perhaps the most beautiful choir in
      Europe: its roof was materially injured by fire, occasioned by the
      carelessness of the plumbers who were repairing it in 1803, but it has
      since been completely restored, at an expence of upwards of £4000. In this
      choir is performed the coronation of the Kings and Queens of England.
    </p>
    <p>
      This succinct account will not prove unacceptable, we hope, to our
      readers.
    </p>
    <p>
      The attractive spot at the southern extremity of the cross aisle was now
      entered by the two friends. "This," said Dashall, "is called Poet's
      Corner, and never could a place be named with more propriety."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho cast an eye of intense observation on these sacred records of
      departed excellence. Here he found the names of Chaucer, Spenser,
      Shakespeare, Johnson, Milton, Dryden, Butler, Thomson, Gay, Goldsmith,
      &amp;c. There also, as though the spot were dedicated to genius of the
      highest rank, are the tombs of Handel and Garrick. The Squire in his
      admiration of the British Poets, now gave full scope to the ardency of his
      feelings, and surrounded by the sculptured images of the bards of former
      days, he seemed as if environed by a re-animated constellation of genius,
      and wrapt in the delirium of its inspiritive influence.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[84]</span> Westminster Abbey contains a great
      number of monuments of kings, statesmen, heroes, poets, and persons
      distinguished by genius, learning, and science; but many of these
      monuments can be regarded as little better than so many disfigurements of
      the buildings. Some however are to be spoken of with praise, and the best
      are the productions of Reubilliac and Bacon.
    </p>
    <p>
      The curiosities of Westminster Abbey consist chiefly of twelve chapels,
      the principal of which were visited by Dashall and his cousin; but to the
      chapel of Henry VII. their chief attention was directed. This chapel is
      contiguous to the eastern extremity of the church, and opens into it: it
      is dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and is one of the finest specimens of
      Gothic antiquity in the world. On its site formerly stood a chapel
      dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and also a tavern, distinguished by the sign
      of the White Rose: Henry resolving to erect a superb mausoleum for himself
      and his family, pulled down the old chapel and tavern, and on the 11th of
      February in the year 1503, the first stone of the new structure was laid
      by Abbot Islip, at the King's command. It cost £14,000, an immense sum for
      that period, particularly considering the rapacious temper of the king.
      The exterior of the chapel is distinguished by the richness and variety of
      its form, occasioned chiefly by 14 towers, elegantly proportioned to the
      body of the edifice, and projecting in different angles from the
      outer-most wall: the inside is approached by the area at the back of the
      chapels of Edward the Confessor and Henry v. The floor of this chapel is
      elevated above that of the area, and the ascent is by a flight of marble
      steps: the entrance is ornamented with a handsome gothic portico of stone,
      within which are three large gates of gilt brass, of curious open
      workmanship, every pannel being enriched with a rose and a portcullis
      alternately. The chapel consists of the nave and two small aisles: the
      centre is 99 feet in length, 66 in breadth, and 54 in height, terminating
      at the east in a curve, and having five deep recesses of a similar form:
      the entrance to these recesses is by open arches, and they add greatly to
      the relief and beauty of the building: it is not improbable that they were
      originally so many smaller chapels, destined to various uses. The side
      aisles are in a just proportion to the centre, with which they communicate
      by four arches, turned on gothic pillars; each of them is relieved by four
      recesses, a window, with minute and curious <span class="pagenum">[85]</span>divisions,
      running the whole height of each recess. The upper part of the nave has
      four windows on each side, and ten in the eastern extremity, five above
      and five below. The whole of the roof of the chapel, including the side
      aisles and the curve at the end, is of wrought stone, in the gothic style,
      and of exquisite beauty. An altar-tomb erected by Henry, at the cost of
      £1000, to receive his last remains, stands in the centre of the chapel. It
      is of basaltic stone, ornamented and surrounded with a magnificent railing
      of gilt brass. This monument was constructed by Peter Torregiano, a
      Florentine artist, and possesses extraordinary merit. Six devices in
      bas-relief, and four statues, all of gilt brass, adorn the tomb.
    </p>
    <p>
      In addition to these venerable antiquities, which all deserve to be seen,
      a variety of figures in wax, and in cases with glazed doors, are shewn as
      curiosities to the stranger; but they ought to be removed, as disgraceful
      to the grandeur and solemnity of the other parts of the scene, and as a
      satire on the national taste, which can scarcely be excused, when such
      things are exhibited in a room for children's amusement.
    </p>
    <p>
      Every lover of the arts must lament that this beautiful relic of gothic
      taste is falling rapidly to decay; notwithstanding, within the last
      twenty-four years, the Dean and Chapter of Westminster have expended the
      sum of £28,749 in general repairs of the abbey. Parliament, however, has
      at last granted the requisite aid, and the sum of £20,000 has been voted
      to commence the repairs, which are now going on. It has been estimated
      that the necessary repairs of Henry the VIIth's chapel will cost about
      £14,800 and the ornamental repairs about £10,400.
    </p>
    <p>
      The prospect from the western tower of the abbey is more beautiful and
      picturesque, though less extensive, than that from St. Paul's. The west
      end of the town and its environs, the Banquetting-house at Whitehall, St.
      James's park, the gardens of the Queen's palace, the extremity of
      Piccadilly and Hyde-park, with the Serpentine River, and the distant
      groves of Kensington Gardens, present a varied and magnificent view
      towards the west. On the other hand, the bridges of Westminster, Waterloo,
      and Blackfriars, with the broad expanse of the Thames, and Somerset-house
      on its banks, and St. Paul's towering pile, together with the light Gothic
      steeple of St. Dunstan's in the East, present a most noble and <span
      class="pagenum">[86]</span> interesting prospect. From this tower the
      exterior form of St. Paul's, when the sun falls upon it, is distinctly
      seen, and here its exquisite beauty will be more fully comprehended than
      in any part of the city, for a sufficient area to take in the entire
      outline is not to be found there.
    </p>
    <p>
      This prolixity of description will not, we presume, be considered by our
      readers, as a tedious digression from the main subject.&mdash;<i>Real Life
      in London</i> cannot be better elucidated, than by uniting incident with
      appropriate anecdote, and amidst the perambulations of our respectable
      associates, which led them to the ancient and interesting edifice of
      Westminster Abbey, it necessarily followed that we should illustrate the
      subject, by a brief, yet accurate and interesting account of the
      antiquity, et cetera, of the object under consideration.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having gratified their wishes by a cursory inspection of what their guides
      were pleased to denominate "Curiosities," our two heroes were on the eve
      of departure from the Abbey, when Bob begged that the guide would repeat
      the terms of admission to view these repositories of mortality.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The tombs," said the conductor, "at the east end of the church, with the
      chapel of Henry VIIth, the price of admission to view these, sir, is
      six-pence; the models three-pence; the tombs at the northern part of the
      cross aisle three-pence; and the west end and tower of the abbey
      six-pence."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho expressed his surprise that the house of God and the depository of
      the dead, should be so shamefully assigned over to the influence of
      Mammon, and a price of admission as into a place of public amusement,
      exacted by those to whose mercenary government the ancient structure of
      Westminster Abbey had devolved. "Was it thus, always," asked he, "from the
      time of Henry IIId?" To this enquiry, the guide replied merely by a shrug
      of his shoulders, rather indicative of contempt than otherways, and to a
      further question of "Who is the receiver general of these exactions, and
      to what purpose are they applied?" he preserved a sullen taciturnity.
    </p>
    <p>
      From the south aisle of the abbey there are two entrances into the
      cloisters, which are entire, and consist of four arched walks on the sides
      of an open quadrangle. There are many monuments in these walks, but four
      of them, beneath which are the remains of four of the abbots <span
      class="pagenum">[87]</span>of Westminster, at the east end of the south
      walk, are all which merit particular attention.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Amongst the ancient records deposited here, the two friends were gratified
      with a sight of those of the Court of Star-chamber, and of the original
      Domesday-book, which is still as legible as the first hour it was written.
    </p>
    <p>
      Against the south-west part of the west front of the abbey, is the north
      front of the Jerusalem chamber, remarkable for being the place where king
      Henry IV. breathed his last.{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      North from the abbey stood the Sanctuary, the place of refuge allowed in
      old times, to criminals of a certain description; and, on the south side,
      was the eleemosynary or almonry, where the alms of the abbot were
      distributed.&mdash;This place is remarkable for being the spot in which
      the first printing-press ever used in England was set up; and here, in
      1474, Caxton printed the Game and Play of Chesse, the first book ever
      printed in England.&mdash;A new Court House is now built on the site of
      the sanctuary.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having seen in the Abbey every curiosity of note, its two visitants
      directed their course into Westminster Hall, the great national seat of
      justice.&mdash;This together with the House of Lords, and the House of
      Commons, are the remains of the palace of Westminster, built by Edward the
      Confessor, the situation of which was close to the river Thames, and the
      stairs leading from it still retain the name of palace stairs. The hall
      itself is the largest room in Europe, except the theatre at Oxford,
      unsupported by columns. It is 275 feet in length, 74 in breadth, and 90 in
      height, the roof being of oak, of curious gothic architecture. It was
      originally used as a place of festivity, and Richard IId entertained
      10,000 guests within its walls. In this hall Charles I.. was tried and
      condemned; and at present it is occasionally fitted up for the trial of
      peers or of any person impeached by the Commons.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our heroes now relinquishing the contemplation of the olden times for the
      enjoyment of the passing scenes of the modern, turned their steps in the
      direction of Whitehall; passing through which, and facing the
      Banquetting-House,{2} their observation was attracted to a gentleman on
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 See Shakespeare's Play of Henry IV. Part II.

     2 In front of the Banquetting House, on a scaffold, Charles
     I. was beheaded on the 30th of January, 1648;&mdash;His Majesty
     passed from the Banquetting House to the scaffold through
     one of the windows.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[88]</span>horseback, followed by a number of
      people, by whom he was frequently and warmly cheered; and <i>en passant</i>
      was recognized with other popular feeling of regard and respect. Dashall
      stept forward to reconnoitre, and ascertained that the favourite was no
      other than the worthy representative of the borough of Southwark, Sir
      Robert Wilson, Knt. lately deprived of his rank as a General, "for,"
      continued Dashall, "nobody knows what, unless the enormous crime of paying
      his last tribute of respect to the memory of an "injured Queen;" and
      endeavouring, in the temperate language of remonstrance, to prevent the
      effusion of human blood! His character however, is too firmly rooted to
      sustain injury from the breath of slander; and the malignity of his
      enemies has recoiled on themselves: thanks to a brave, just, and generous
      people, who are ever prone to save whom persecution aims to destroy."
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall seemed warm in defending the cause of this gallant officer, and
      the Squire listened with correspondent satisfaction.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The allied Sovereigns," observed Dashall, "in General Sir Robert Wilson,
      found all the essential requisites of a good soldier: of skill to plan,
      and of valour to execute. They were chiefly indebted to his judgment and
      intrepidity for the victory of Leipsic; to which ample testimony was given
      by the Emperors of Russia and Austria; the latter of whom, during the
      intensity and perils of the engagement, he extricated from the imminent
      hazard of captivity. His services have not been of less importance in the
      armies of his own country, as acknowledged by the Commander in Chief, who
      has now rewarded him by recommending his dismissal, at the instance, no
      doubt, of Ministers; anxious by this procedure to annihilate his
      independent feelings, and render them more subservient to the doctrine of
      non-resistance and of passive obedience to the existing authorities!"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This object is already defeated.&mdash;Amongst all classes Sir
     Robert Wilson's dismissal has excited strong feelings of
     reprobation. Certainly, whatsoever other name may be given
     to the act, it cannot be called a just one, to degrade an
     honourable man from his rank, and deprive him of the half
     pay (which in a great measure accrued to him from purchase,)
     without accusation, arbitrarily,  and on secret and suborned
     information of having; merited the inflicted contumely. But
     futile has been the effort of malevolence; Sir Robert
     Wilson's half pay was £460 per annum, and the subscriptions
     in indemnification of his loss already exceed £10,000.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[89]</span>Pursuing their course along the Strand,
      and ruminating on the alarming increase of juvenile depravity, Tallyho
      could not avoid remarking on the numerous temptations held out to the
      vicious and necessitous in this wide-spreading and wealthy metropolis&mdash;"For
      instance," making a full halt, with his friend, against the spacious and
      unlatticed window of a jeweller's shop, Dashall admitted the truth of his
      companion's observation. Here on promiscuous display were seen most
      valuable articles of jewelry, stretching multitudinously from one
      extremity to the other of the window, consisting of gold and silver
      watches, elegant and richly wrought seals, musical snuff-boxes, diamond
      rings, diamond pins, &amp;c. embracing, in vast variety, a property of
      immense value, divided from the street by "thin and undefended squares of
      glass only; and that the lure might prove still more attractive, each
      article marked at its price, some 25, some 50, 75, 100, and 200 guineas
      each! A dash and a grab might secure to the depredator possession of
      wealth; and while such temptations are held out, the surprise is, not that
      so many street robberies are, but that a great many more are not
      committed. The many thousands in London out of employment, and of these
      perhaps the greatest number unhoused and famishing, would it be much to be
      wondered at if some of these sons of misery, goaded onwards to crime by
      the extremity of human suffering, were to attempt the possession of spoil,
      so carelessly exposed, and apparently so easily obtainable?{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Lord Mansfield once presided as Judge, when an unfortunate
     man was tried for stealing an article of jewellery from a
     shop-window, exposed by its unguarded state to depredation,
     and more encouraging than otherwise, the hope of success.&mdash;
     It proved differently, and the prosecutor seeming determined
     to proceed against the wretched man, even to capital
     punishment, Lord Mansfield, indignant at the severity of the
     owner of the trinket, and compassionating the state of
     misery and destitution, under the influence of which the
     poor prisoner at the bar, stimulated too by its careless
     exposure, had committed the felony, desired the Jury to
     value the trinket in question at ten pence.&mdash;The prosecutor
     started up in surprise, and exclaimed, "Tenpence, my Lord!
     why the very fashion of it cost me ten times the sum!" "That
     may be," returned his Lordship, "but we must not hang a man
     for fashion's sake!"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[90]</span>"Here conies silly Tom and staggering
      Bob," exclaimed a fellow, as he approached towards our pedestrians.
      Tallyho had grasped more firmly his oaken sprig, with the intention of
      trying the crankness of the observer's pericranium, when Dashall perceived
      that the obnoxious remark was directed to a simple looking old man,
      dejectedly leading a horse "done up," and apparently destined for the
      slaughter-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Where now, Tommy," continued the querist, "with thy decayed bit of
      blood?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye, aye," answered Tommy, despondingly, "even to the naggers,{1}&mdash;'tis
      what we must all come to."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 A Naggerman is a wholesale horse-butcher! his business is
     frequently so extensive as to enable him to employ a vast
     many hands, and so lucrative as to ensure him a fortune in a
     very few years; the carcases are sold to the dealers by whom
     they are cut up, and sold in quarters to the retailers, and
     purchased by the street venders; these latter form one of
     the prominent itinerant avocations, and supply with food all
     the dogs and cats of the metropolis!
</pre>
    <p>
      "And so thy master has passed the doom of death against his old servant
      Bob, on whose back he has been safely borne, in the chase, "many a time
      and oft," as the song says, "o'er hedges, gaps, ditches and gates; and
      fleet of foot as thou wert," patting the animal with feelings of
      commiseration," and often as thou hast replenished thy master's purse,
      thou art now going to the slaughter-house!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Even so&mdash;the faithful servant, now no longer useful, is discarded."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And put to death!&mdash;Why man, thy master is a d&mdash;&mdash;d
      unfeeling, ungrateful scoundrel, else he would have turned this poor nag
      at large on the green sward, to roam as he list in summer, with a warm
      stable in winter, and have left him to die the death of nature."
    </p>
    <p>
      An assemblage of passengers had now collected round the doom'd horse and
      his sympathizing friend, whose vehemence of expression had attracted much
      attention. The feelings of his auditory were in full unison with his own,
      and as the throng increased, with inquisitive curiosity, the advocate in
      the cause of humanity repeated the following lines:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "And hast thou doom'd my death, sweet master, say,
          And wilt thou kill thy servant, old and poor?
          A little longer let me live, I pray;
          A little longer hobble round thy door!"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[91]</span>The spectators were evidently affected.
      He next sung the stanza of an old song, extemporaneously produced (with
      the exception of the first two lines)
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          At last having labored, drudg'd early and late,
          Bow'd down by degrees he draws on to his fate:
          His blood must the Naggerman's sluicing knife spill;
          His carcase the Naggerman's slaughter-house fill!
          Now led to his doom, while with pity we view
          Poor Bob, may mishap still his master pursue;
          Who callously spurning humanity's bounds,
          Now sells his old servant as food for the hounds.
</pre>
    <p>
      The Squire having occasion to call at a banker's in Fleet Street, the two
      friends entered at the moment when a countryman with a most rueful
      expression of countenance, stood transfixed to the floor, like the statue
      of Despair, incapable either of speech or motion. After an absorption of
      mental faculty of several minutes duration, he burst out into the
      incoherent exclamations of
    </p>
    <p>
      "Murrian take un, zay I!&mdash;Icod, I'ze in a voine pickle! I ha brought
      my pigs to market wi a vengeance! O luord! O luord! whoa would ha thought
      en't?"
    </p>
    <p>
      He then began exercising his feet by stamping each alternately on the
      floor, with a violence that shook the room to its foundation; and this
      vehement thunder he accompanied by correspondent energy of gesticulation;
      distorting his visage, and casting about his arms with the action of an
      infuriated maniac. The place was thrown into alarm, and business was
      suspended. Dashall now addressing himself to the presumed lunatic, begged
      him to compose himself, and endeavour briefly to state what had happened,
      that if he had sustained an injury, redress might be obtained.
    </p>
    <p>
      After several fruitless attempts at narration, he at length told his
      story; and that it may lose nothing of its originality, we shall give it
      in the first person.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I'ze cuom zur, frae Zumersetzshire to Lunnon, first time o' my loife, by
      coach, where it putt en at a pleace called the two Gooses necks, and zo
      having a cheque on this house for Fifty Pounds, and not knowing the way, I
      axed a vera civil gentleman whom I met wi' hovering about Inn-yard; and
      telling him my business, Pze go with you, zaid he, vera kindly, and help
      thee to take care o! thy money, vor there be a desperate set o' sharp
      fellows in Lunnon ready to take every advantage of a stranger; <span
      class="pagenum">[92]</span> and zoa we came along, and just avore we
      gotten into house here, he said to I, zays he, I'ze take thy money and zee
      that all's right, vor there be a vast many bad sovereigns about.&mdash;Well,
      zur, zoa he did; and just as I wur looking about, it seems he had taen
      himself off wi'the money, vor when I looked round he wur no where to be
      zeen; and zoa zur, I have lost Fifty good Pounds to my sorrow. Who would
      ha thought it!&mdash;I wish the murrian had ha hold on me avore I had come
      to this wicked world o' Lunnon!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Here the countryman concluded his narrative, exciting the amusement of
      some and the sympathy of others of his auditory.&mdash;The banker
      dispatched one of his clerks with the unlucky wight to one of the Public
      Offices, for the purpose of describing the depredator, altho' with very
      small chance of recovering the property.{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      Eliminating on the folly of this credulous countryman, our perambulators
      now proceeded down Fleet Street, where casting a look into Bolt Court&mdash;"Here,"
      said Dashall, "lived and died the colossus of English literature, Doctor
      Samuel Johnson,{2} a man whose like the world may
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1  In all the Coach and Waggon yards in London there are
     fellows loitering about with the view of plunder; they
     frequently are taken by the unwary countryman, for domestics
     of the Inn, and as such are entrusted with property with
     which they immediately decamp, and by many other artful
     manouvres secure their spoil.

     2 The most trivial circumstance in the life of a great man,
     carries with it a certain somewhat of importance, infinitely
     more agreeable to the generality of readers than the long
     details which history usually presents. Amongst the numerous
     anecdotes of Doctor Johnson, perhaps the following is not
     the least amusing.&mdash;When the Doctor first became acquainted
     with David Mallet, they once went, with some other
     gentlemen, to laugh away an hour at South-wark-fair. At one
     of the booths where wild beasts were exhibited to the
     wondering crowd, was a very large bear, which the showman
     assured them was "cotched" in the undiscovered deserts of
     the remotest Russia. The bear was muzzled, and might
     therefore be approached with safety; but to all the company,
     except Johnson, was very surly and ill tempered. Of the
     philosopher he appeared extremely fond, rubbed against him,
     and displayed every mark of awkward partiality, and ursine
     kindness. "How is it, (said one of the company,) that; this
     savage animal is so attached to Mr. Johnson?" From a very
     natural cause, replied Mallet: "the bear is a Russian
     philosopher, and he knows that Linnæus would have placed him
     in the same class with the English moralist. They are two
     barbarous animals of one species."&mdash;Johnson disliked Mallet
     for his tendency to infidelity, and this sarcasm turned his
     dislike into downright hatred. He never spoke to him
     afterwards, but has gibbeted him in his octavo dictionary,
     under the article "Alias."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[93]</span>perhaps never see again; yet with all his
      vast erudition he had his prejudices and superstitions; he believed in
      apparitions, and he despised all countries save his own.&mdash;The Scotch
      and Irish he affected particularly to dislike.&mdash;In his poem of
      "London," in imitation of Juvenal, he says,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          For who unbrib'd would leave Hibernia's land,
          Or change the rocks of Scotland for the Strand?&mdash;
          There none are swept by sudden death away,
          But all whom Hunger spares, with age decay!
</pre>
    <p>
      But, with all his foibles, (and who is there without human infirmity?)
      Doctor Samuel Johnson was the most highly talented writer of any age or
      nation."
    </p>
    <p>
      Facing the Obelisk, "let us stroll down the market," said Dashall,
      "considered the cheapest in London.&mdash;Flesh, fish and fowl, fruits,
      roots and vegetables, are here abundantly attainable, and at moderate
      prices."
    </p>
    <p>
      Amongst the various venders, our two observers passed on, unmolestedly,
      excepting the annoyance and importunity of "What d'ye buy? what d'ye buy,
      buy, buy?" from" barking butchers, who instinctively reiterated the phrase
      as the casual passenger approached, like so many parrots, unconscious of
      its import being unproductive in effect; for who would be induced to
      purchase by the clamorous invitation universally in use by these
      vociferous butchers of the metropolis?&mdash;"My fine fellow," observed
      Tallyho to one who annoyed him, "good wine, they say, needs no bush,
      neither does good meat require a barker."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Bad luck to my mother's own daughter, and that is myself, sure,"
      exclaimed a retail venderess of vegetables, to her opponent in trade, "if
      I wouldn't for the value of a tester, or for the value of nothing at all
      at all, give you freely just what you ask for my jewel.&mdash;Arrah now,
      is it law that you want of me! Faith and troth then you shall have it, <i>club-law</i>,
      when and where you plase, my darling!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dirty end," rejoined the other lady, "to the girl who fear* you!&mdash;Here
      am I, Kate, of the Maclusky's of Ballymena, in the county of Antrim, long
      life to it! and it would be a hard case, and a shameful one to boot, if a
      well educated northern lass should suffer her own self to be disgraced by
      a Munster-woman."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[94]</span> "The devil fly away with Ballymena, and
      the Macluskys along with it!" retorted the other; "and is it Munster and
      heddication that you are bothering about? Whillaloe graraachree! my sweet
      one! and did you begin your larning in Ballymena, and come to finish it in
      Fleet-market? By my conscience, Kate Maclusky, if you are not very much
      belied, you know more than you ought to do."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And what would you 'sinuate by that?" demanded Kate;&mdash;"What do you
      'sinuate by that, Ma'am?&mdash;I acknowledge that I'm both a whore and a
      thief&mdash;what then? Bating that I defy you to say, black is the white
      of my eye!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Here Mrs. Maclusky with arms a-kimbo, and a visage strongly expressing
      exasperation and defiance, advanced towards the Munster-woman.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Let us step aside," said Dashall, "hostilities are about to commence."
    </p>
    <p>
      He was right; a few more irritable preliminaries, and the heroines came in
      contact, in due order of battle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Two to one on the Munster-woman." "Done! Ulster for ever! go it Kate!&mdash;handle
      your dawdles, my girl;&mdash;shiver her ivory;&mdash;darken her skylights;&mdash;flatten
      her sneizer;&mdash;foul, foul,&mdash;ah you Munster b&mdash;&mdash;ch!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Fair, fair;&mdash;arrah, now for the honor of Munster;&mdash;dig away;&mdash;mind
      your hits;&mdash;rattle her bread basket;&mdash;set her claret-spout
      a-going;&mdash;stand firm on your pegs;&mdash;what, down!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus ended round the first; the amazons had, in the fray, reduced each
      other from the waist upwards to nearly a state of nudity. On either side
      the partisans were numerous, the combatants eager to renew the fight, and
      the spectators, the majority of whom were of Irish distraction, anxious
      for the result, when the officious interposition of official authority,
      terminated the "tug of war," and the honor of the two provinces remained
      undecided.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Success to the land that gave Patrick his birth." Tranquillity thus
      restored, a new scene in the drama of Fleet-market attracted the attention
      of the two visitants.
    </p>
    <p>
      A rabbit pole-woman passing through the market, was accosted by a lady,
      who enquiring the price of the Rabbits, purchased a couple, in front of
      the shop of a similar exhibitant.&mdash;This was considered by the
      rabbit-dealers of the market, a gross breach of privilege, more
      particularly as the obnoxious female had presumed to undersell them, even
      with a superior article. Not willing, however, from <span class="pagenum">[95]</span>prudential
      reasons, to appear in avowed personal hostility against the object of
      their vengeance, and that, too, a woman, who had inadvertently incurred
      the displeasure of their high mightinesses, the subordinate agency of boys
      was deputed for the purpose of wrecking summary retribution; and the
      juvenile deputation quickly overthrew in the apparent wantonness of
      mischief, the whole of the poor girl's day-property, and scrambling for
      the spoil, disseminated themselves in different directions, leaving not
      the vestige of a rabbit behind!
    </p>
    <p>
      A torrent of tears, feelingly shewed the anguish of her mind. She was
      ruined beyond hope of redemption; the rabbits she had every morning on
      credit, she plied the streets in selling them, through many a wearisome
      hour in the day, happy if next morning, having realized a very moderate
      profit by her laborious vocation, she could settle accounts with the
      wholesale dealer, and take a fresh cargo with which to commence another
      day's adventure.&mdash;But now, wringing her hands in an agony of grief,
      "It is all over with me!" she exclaimed,&mdash;" my means of subsistence
      is gone,&mdash;my credit is lost,&mdash;and God's will be done,&mdash;I
      must go home and starve!"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 It is scarcely credible that one salesman in Leadenhall
     market, at the present time, sells on an average 14,000
     rabbits weekly. He contracts with the coach masters for the
     carriage, and pays them eleven pounds per thousand,
     amounting, weekly, to £154. The way he disposes of them, is
     by employing 150 travelling pole-men and women; in the
     morning they are started upon credit, and the next day they
     return, bringing back the skins, settle the accounts, and
     then take a fresh cargo.
</pre>
    <p>
      Ever prone to relieve distress, Dashall and Tallyho sympathized most
      sincerely with this unfortunate girl; there was an indescribable something
      of extreme interest about her, which was well calculated to excite a
      feeling of generous commiseration.
    </p>
    <p>
      Shall we now say the two philanthropists? for such they proved themselves.
      Each then, in the same moment, expanded his purse, and together more than
      compensated the delighted and astonished girl for her loss, who, blessing
      her benefactors, went home rejoicing.
    </p>
    <p>
      Gaining the extremity of the market, at the bottom of Skinner-street, the
      two friends rounded the corner, and verged towards Ludgate-hill by the
      Fleet Prison. Here a fresh claim, though of lesser magnitude, obtruded
      itself on their benevolence. "Pity the poor debtors, having no <span
      class="pagenum">[96]</span> allowance!" exclaimed an emaciated being,
      gazing with an eye of wistful expectancy, through the thrice-grated window
      of a small apartment on a level nearly with the street; "Pity the poor
      debtors;" The supplicating tone of deep distress in which these words were
      uttered spoke irresistibly to the heart, and the blessing of Heaven was
      once more invoked on the donors.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And this is the prison," observed the Squire, "where a presumed scion of
      the Royal branch, a few days ago surrendered to her bail, as a prisoner
      for debt."&mdash;"The same," rejoined his Cousin, "and the Princess is now
      most unroyally domiciled at a private-house within the rules of the Fleet,
      on Ludgate-hill.&mdash;<i>Sic transit gloria mundi!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly," said the Squire, "this London produces extraordinary sights,
      and not less extraordinary occurrences;&mdash;but of all the scenes of
      Real Life which has hitherto come within the scope of our observation, the
      most singular is that of the presumed legitimate cousin of the King of
      England, recently in a Spunging-house, and now confined for a debt of a
      few hundred pounds to the rules of the Fleet."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Ci-divant Princess of Cumberland

     To the Right Hon. Lord Sidmouth.

     My Lord,'&mdash;When I reflect on the injuries I have received by
     the refusal of your Lordship to forward my claims in a
     proper way to his Majesty, I consider it as a duty that I
     owe to my high descent, to enquire of your Lordship, why I
     have been suffered to remain so long neglected and deprived
     of the rights, which in common with other younger branches
     of the Royal Family, I am entitled to? As soon as the demise
     of my late Royal Uncle, his late Majesty, occurred, I
     addressed your Lordship, for his present Majesty's gracious
     knowledge. In my letters, repeatedly sent to your Lord-ship,
     I assured you for the King's knowledge, that I had but one
     anxious desire, which was to act in conformity to his
     Majesty's Royal will and pleasure, after an audience had
     been allowed to shew my papers. If, my Lord, I had been an
     impostor, it was the duty of Ministers to have enquired into
     my claims, and to have exposed them if unjust or illegal.
     But, no! my Lord; every application was treated with cold
     and apathetic contempt; and although all the writings of my
     parent's marriage and my birth have been verified according
     to law, at Judge Abbott's chambers, Sergeants' Inn,&mdash;at
     Master Simeon's Office, Court of Chancery,&mdash;before Sir
     Robert Baker and Barber Beaumont Esq.&mdash;and twelve affidavits
     sworn and sent in to your Lordship, yet at this late moment
     I find myself neglected and oppressed, and without one
     guinea of support from the Government or Royal Family! My
     dear late cousin, Prince Edward, Duke of Kent, supported and
     protected me several years before his lamented death. His
     Royal Highness saw the papers delivered to me by the Earl of
     Warwick of my legitimacy, and there are at least a hundred
     papers connected with my parent's affairs and my own; and
     General Wetherall, Comptroller to his late Royal Highness,
     looked over many such papers, at my residence in his Royal
     Master's life-time. The excellent heart of the late Duke of
     Kent was of a nature to decide, in all events of life
     meeting his eye, with religion and moral justice. Thus has
     he loved and cherished me, his cousin, and solemnly bound
     himself to see me righted the moment that the death of his
     late Majesty authorised my papers meeting the eye of the
     nation.

     My Lord,&mdash;You well know why my claims are neglected&mdash;a
     mighty cause exists! But it is a duty that I owe to myself
     and the English nation to give a narrative of facts as they
     are, unless immediate justice is done me. I am Olive, the
     only child of the late Duke of Cumberland, by Olivia, his
     virtuous, injured wife; and very shortly the public shall
     know the great and forbearing conduct of Dr. Wilmot. To him
     at one period, the English were indebted for tranquillity;
     it can be proved, my Lord. And although my health is similar
     to the late injured Queen's (my first cousin,) from having
     experienced every deprivation and persecution from
     interested enemies, yet I religiously trust the time is not
     remote, when truth will triumph over calumny and
     oppression.&mdash;I have the honor to be, my Lord,

     Your obedient servant,

     Olive.

     Ludgate-hill, Nov. 6th. 1821.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[97]</span>"Some Kings are not partial to female
      cousins; and the legitimacy (said Dashall,) of this pretended Princess of
      Cumberland does not appear sufficiently tangible to admit of recognition,
      otherwise, without doubt, she would have been provided for!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Her case, however, wears not much the semblance of imposition," said the
      Squire. "The circumstances which she so minutely states, with reference to
      living characters, strongly imply that her pretensions are not
      ill-founded."
    </p>
    <p>
      They had now reached Ludgate-hill; a crowd was collected opposite the
      residence of the Princess of Cumberland, when the captive heroine
      condescended to shew herself at the window.&mdash;She is of matronly
      appearance, and was well dressed.&mdash;The mobility received her with due
      respect; the lady made her obeisance, and the assemblage retired, on terms
      apparently of reciprocal satisfaction.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Strolling onwards until they gained the centre of Blackfriars Bridge, the
      two friends paused in admiration of the interesting scene before them.
    </p>
    <p>
      Amidst the spires and turrets of the metropolis, Saint Paul's, close at
      hand, rose in the proud pre-eminence of stupendous grandeur, like a mighty
      monarch surrounded <span class="pagenum">[98]</span> by tributary kings,
      rendering him the homage of vassalage.
    </p>
    <p>
      &mdash;Emerging from the dense mass of buildings on the line from the
      Tower to Westminster Abbey, appeared a continued succession of prominent
      public edifices; on the river Thames the scene was diversified by numerous
      wherries, gliding pleasurably on the rippling wave; some shooting under
      the arches of the elegant Waterloo, and others under the spacious span of
      the lofty iron bridge of Southwark,&mdash;while on either side the river,
      Labour was on the alert, and the busy and ceaseless hum of Industry
      resounded far and near.
    </p>
    <p>
      'Twas low water, and the <i>mud-larks</i> now intent on their several
      vocations, engaged the eye of the Squire.&mdash;"What are those people
      about?" he asked, "What are they in search of?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "These are <i>mud-larks</i>," answered his friend, "in search of what
      chance may throw in their way; all's fish that comes to net! You have much
      to learn yet of Real Life in London, and must prolong your stay
      accordingly.&mdash;Willing to eat the bread of honesty, these poor people
      are in the daily practice of frequenting the shores of the Thames, to
      literally pick up a living. Nothing comes amiss; all that is portable,
      however insignificant in value, goes into the general repository. The
      mud-lark returns home, when his labours are ended, sorts the
      indiscriminate heterogeneous "mass of matter," and disposes of it as well
      as he can."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 How many hundreds and thousands, in a metropolis like that
     of the British empire, obtain a subsistence, in a way of
     which those of its inhabitants who are not compelled to such
     an exercise of their ingenuity can have no idea! In the
     midst of a crowded city, man is much more closely cut off
     from all assistance on the part of his fellows, and is
     obliged to trust entirely for the support of life to the
     individual exertions of his strength, his talents, or his
     ingenuity. Various and singular are the expedients practised
     by numbers in the British capital. Among these the class of
     Mud-larks is not the least extraordinary, that is people,
     who, on the ebb of the tide re-pair to the river-side, in
     quest of any article that the water may have left behind in
     the mud. To this description of people belonged Peggy Jones,
     the well known Mud-lark at Black Friars. She was a woman,
     apparently about forty years of age, with red hair; the
     particular object of whose researches was the coals which
     accidentally fell from the sides of the lighters. Her
     constant resort was the neighbourhood of Blackfriars, where
     she was always to be seen, even before the tide was down,
     wading into the water, nearly up to the middle, and scraping
     together from the bottom, the coals which she felt with her
     feet. Numbers of passengers who have passed by that quarter,
     particularly over Blackfriars Bridge, have often stopped to
     contemplate with astonishment, a female engaged in an
     occupation apparently so painful and disagreeable. She
     appeared dressed in very short ragged petticoats, without
     shoes or stockings, and with a kind of apron made of some
     strong substance, that folded like a bag all round her, in
     which she collected whatever she was so fortunate as to
     find. In these strange habiliments, and her legs encrusted
     with mud, she traversed the streets of this metropolis.
     Sometimes she was industrious enough to pick up three, and
     at others even four loads a day; and as they consisted
     entirely of what are termed round coals, she was never at a
     loss for customers, whom she charged at the rate of eight-
     pence a load. In the collection of her sable treasure, she
     was frequently assisted by the coal-heavers, who, when she
     happened to approach the lighters, would, as if
     undesignedly, kick overboard a large coal, at the same time
     bidding her, with apparent surliness, go about her business.
     Peggy Jones was not exempt from a failing to which most
     individuals of the lower orders are subject, namely,
     inebriety. Her propensity to liquor was sometimes indulged
     to such a degree, that she would tumble about the streets
     with her load, to the no small amusement of mischievous
     boys, and others, who, on such occasions, never failed to
     collect around her. After concluding the labors of the day,
     she retired to a wretched lodging in Chick Lane. This woman
     carried on her extraordinary calling for many years, but
     about the month of February, 1805, she suddenly disappeared
     from her usual places of resort, and nobody can tell what is
     become of her. A man who has the appearance of a coal-
     heaver, has since stepped into her place, and adopted the
     profession which she so long followed.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[99]</span> "Thus it is that the Mud-lark earns a
      precarious and scanty subsistence, and in many other instances in this
      metropolis, Ingenuity and Perseverance overcome difficulties that in the
      country would prove insurmountable."
    </p>
    <p>
      Retracing their steps to Ludgate-hill, the associates passed into the Old
      Bailey, where the Squire seemed struck with surprise at the simple bill of
      fare of an eating-house, not inscribed on paper and exhibited against the
      window, but deeply engraven on brass, and conspicuously fixed by the side
      of the door, expressed in four syllables only, "The boil'd-beef house."&mdash;"Compendious
      enough," exclaimed his Cousin. "Multum in parvo," rejoined the Squire; and
      immediately walking in, they were ushered into a snug room partly occupied
      by guests of apparent respectability, each actively employed in the
      demolition of buttock or flank with great seeming satisfaction. The two
      strangers intimating a desire to follow so laudable an example, the waiter
      submissively put the question, "Which would you please to have, gentlemen,
      buttock or flank, or a plate of both?" That the quality of each might be
      ascertained, plates of both were ordered, and presently brought in, piping
      hot, and in the first style of culinary perfection.{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[100]</span> It was amusing to observe the
      characteristic features of the different guests.
    </p>
    <p>
      The young man hurrying over his meal, and frequently casting a look on the
      dial, indicated a tradesman's book-keeper, desirous of enjoying his pipe
      and pint ere the allotted dinner hour expired, when he must return to his
      desk.
    </p>
    <p>
      Another, of meagre and cadaverous appearance, had his plate replenished,
      thrice repeated, and each time dispatched the contents with astonishing
      celerity. This man without doubt, was either a poet or a bookseller's
      hack, who, probably had not for sometime enjoyed the novelty of a dinner,
      and was thus making atonement to appetite accordingly.
    </p>
    <p>
      One gentleman fashionably attired kept mincing his meat, and at long
      intervals supplying masticates that seemed not at all alert in the
      performance of their office.&mdash;His attention was given rather to the
      company than to his plate, and was particularly directed to Dashall and
      Tallyho, on whom it alternately settled with fixed and favourite regard.&mdash;This
      very polite personage was assiduously eager by every possible courtesy to
      ingratiate himself into the notice of our two friends; but Dashall was a
      knowing fish, so the bait wouldn't take; and the Squire happening to
      ejaculate the word Spunger, the stranger prudently took the hint, and
      withdrew.{2}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Thirty years ago this house was noted for the excellent
     quality of its boiled beef;&mdash;no other meat is ever drest
     here,&mdash;Hobson's choice, or none! During that period it has
     had several occupants, and each has retired with a very
     considerable fortune. In the decided superiority of its
     buttock and flank, the house still sustains its pristine
     reputation.

     2 These gentry are hardly to be distinguished from the
     Hanger-on, except by being, if possible, more impudent; they
     frequent all places of public resort, in order to pick up a
     dinner or a bottle, and otherwise prey upon the credulity of
     the unwary. Whenever they meet with a countryman, they
     salute him with enquiring the time of day, or describing the
     weather, and entertaining him with a story of little
     consequence, till they have artfully wheedled you into an
     invitation to dine or sup with you. They can tell you where
     the best entertainment is to be met with; which is the best
     comedian; can get you introduced to see such an actress; to
     hear this sing or that spout; will provide you with the best
     seat at the play-house, or keep a place for you in the front
     row of the first gallery, should you prefer it to the pit;
     can procure a ticket for the exhibition rooms for half
     price, and explain every thing in the museum as well as the
     librarians themselves.&mdash;If your inclination is for mischief,
     he is the only man in the world to assist you; would you
     break the lamps, or Mill the Charleys, he will stand by and
     cry Bravo! till you are carried to the Watch-house, but will
     not engage in the quarrel himself, acting only as a <i>corps
     de reserve</i>. When you are taken, he will negotiate with the
     constable of the night about your ransom, for which you must
     pay smartly, other-wise be detained till Justice opens her
     doors to descry and punish your enormities, according to the
     nature of the crime committed; upon which the Spunger says,
     that he foresaw and told you the consequences that would
     happen if you persevered, but that you would not listen to
     his advice.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[101]</span> Having done satisfactory justice to the
      buttock and flank, and further refreshed themselves with a draught of
      Whitbread's Entire; our pedestrians, leaving the "Boil'd Beef House,"
      recommenced their excursion by proceeding up the Old Bailey, when Dashall
      remarking on the number of Eating Houses with which that street abounds,
      observed, that it seemed a favorite seat of consolidation for the
      professors of the culinary art, like Cloth-fair for Woollen-drapers,
      Paternoster-Row for Booksellers, and Clerkenwell for Watch-makers, &amp;c.
      "This," said Dashall, "is His Majesty's Gaol of Newgate, and from this
      door ascend the numerous victims to the fatal scaffold, in immolation to
      the offended laws of their country. Let us enter this temporary abode of
      crime and wretchedness. It has been much meliorated by the humane and
      indefatigable attentions of an excellent lady, Mrs. Elizabeth Fry, and I
      am desirous of seeing the result of her philanthropic exertions." The
      gentlemanly appearance and demeanour of the two strangers facilitated
      their admission, and they entered the prison preceded by one of the
      turnkeys, who courteously had proffered his services in shewing the place,
      and giving every required information.
    </p>
    <p>
      Newgate, on the eastern side of the Old Bailey, has been rebuilt, its
      walls or shell excepted, since it was destroyed by the rioters, in the
      year 1780. A broad yard divides Newgate from the Sessions House, a very
      handsome stone and brick building. Another edifice, where that lately
      stood, commonly called Surgeon's Hall, has been erected; it is arched
      underneath, and supported upon pillars, and is used as a place of
      accommodation for witnesses and other persons, while waiting for the
      trials during session time.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[102]</span> This prison, until within these few
      years back, was a place of confinement as well for debtors as felons, but
      by late arrangements, and the erection of the new gaol in
      Whitecross-street, Newgate has now become the receptacle of felons
      only.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Newgate has been the scene of two remarkable events, which
     frequently serve as eras of reckoning to some of the
     inhabitants of Loudon; the first is, that of the memorable
     riots in 1780, when this imposing edifice was attacked by a
     furious mob in the evening of Monday the 5th of June, who by
     breaking the windows, batter-ing the entrances of the cells
     with sledge hammers and pickaxes, and climbing the walls
     with ladders, found means to enter Mr. Akerman's house,
     communicating with the prison, and eventually liberated
     three hundred prisoners. The next of these events oc-curred
     on the 23rd of February, 1807. This was when Haggarty and
     Holloway were to suffer for the murder of Mr. Steele on
     Houns-low Heath. The populace began to assemble so early as
     five o'clock, and to accumulate until eight. (It is supposed
     that the concourse of people was greater than at the
     execution of Governor Wall.) At eight o'clock the prisoners
     ascended the scaffold. Im-mediately after they were launched
     off, a most dreadful scene took place. The approaches to the
     place were completely blocked up with carts, filled with
     spectators, and when some of the crowd began to move away,
     the pressure became dreadful. Some fell, and others falling
     over them they were trampled to death. Terror took
     possession of the crowd, they became desperate, and their
     efforts only contributed to increase their danger. As soon
     as this frightful confusion ceased, forty-two sufferers in
     the scene were carried to St. Bartholomew's Hospital. Of
     these, twenty-seven were dead; and though every effort was
     made for their resuscitation, in not one instance was it
     crowned with success. Of forty-two, the whole number, five
     were women, and three of them were among the dead. Of the
     remaining twenty-four bodies, five were men, and the rest
     lads, from twelve to seventeen years of age. Among the dead
     men was a pye-man, who was said to have fallen first, and
     caused the dreadful catastrophe. A great number of the
     pupils in attendance happened to be collected in St.
     Bartholomew's Hospital at the time, and afforded prompt
     assistance; and Dr. Powell, and a Surgeon, who were both
     upon the spot, directed their humane exertions.
</pre>
    <p>
      In the Old Bailey stood Sydney-house, known by the white front, and the
      recess in which it is concealed; and here Jonathan Wild is said to have
      lived the greatest part of his time. The north side of Newgate consists of
      two court-yards, which are far too circumscribed for the numerous
      inhabitants, this prison always exhibiting a multitudinous calendar of
      human depravity. The men's court is only 49 feet 6 inches, by 31 feet 6,
      and the women's of the same length, and about half the width. The whole
      square is entirely surrounded by the wards, <span class="pagenum">[103]</span>
      which rise three stories above the pavement. The women's yard is separated
      from the men's by a wall. In the south and south-east yards, felons for
      trial are confined, and four other yards are similarly occupied. The yard
      assigned to female felons is a wretched place, containing three wards, in
      which are sometimes kept upwards of one hundred women. In the north-east
      corner, next Newgate-street, is the condemned yard, in which are kept
      persons under sentence of death. The yards and all the wards are
      repeatedly lime-washed, and by these and other excellent regulations of
      the Sheriffs of London, Newgate is changed from a loathsome prison,
      dangerous to the health of the metropolis, to a state which may be quoted
      as a model for all similar places. Water is plentiful, ventilators are
      introduced into every window, and a general system of cleanliness prevails
      throughout the whole prison. The morals of its inmates have been improved,
      and their condition greatly meliorated by Mrs. Elizabeth Fry, who like her
      predecessor in the exercise of philanthropy, the celebrated Howard,
      delights in reducing the sum of human misery. The feelings of the two
      visitors having been amply gratified by demonstration of the happy result,
      from superior management, accruing to the prisoners, they departed, not
      forgetting the poor box, put up for general benefit, inviting the
      contributions of charitable strangers.
    </p>
    <p>
      Continuing their route, our perambulators proceeded down Skinner street
      into Holborn, and traversed its extended line without any remarkable
      occurrence, until they reached Broad Street, St. Giles's. "We are now,"
      said Dashall, "in the Holy Land."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Long life to your honors," exclaimed a ragged professor of mendicity:
      "give a poor fellow the price of a <i>shake down</i>, and may you never be
      without the comforts of an <i>upright</i>!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "What mean you," asked the Squire, "by a shake down and an upright?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not the worse luck that you don't know that self same thing now; but sure
      enough a shake-down is a two-penny layer of straw, and saving the tatters
      on my back, not a covering at all at all; may the son of my father never
      have a worse birth any how."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And an upright?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[104]</span> "Is it an upright your honor's spaking
      about?&mdash;fait and troth, as to that same, may the devil fly away with
      Thady O'Flannagan, and that is myself sure, if he knows much about it at
      all at all, seeing as how he has not rested his old bones on such a thing,
      arrah, these many long years; but sure enough it is four stumps, with
      boards across, a good flock-bed, a blanket below and a sheet above, with a
      decent coverlet pieced and patched in a hundred places to boot;&mdash;may
      you never want the like of it, any how!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Thanks for your good wishes, my friend," said Dashall; "and this for the
      information which you have given us."
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the powers of good luck!" exclaimed the itinerant philosopher, "a
      tirteener!&mdash;Now an Irishman's blessing upon you for two good-hearted
      gentlemen; may you live all the days of your lives in peace and prosperity
      both here and hereafter!"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The many impoverished and deserted beings who daily wander
     the streets, trusting for the vegetative existence of the
     moment to eleemosynary occurrences, are incalculable.
     Amongst these sons and daughters of misery, happy is the one
     who, after partially satisfying the cravings of hunger,
     possesses two-pence, the price of a shake down for the
     night, in Rainbridge or Buckeridge-street, St. Giles's!&mdash;The
     upright is a wretched semblance of a bed, at the rate of
     three-pence or four-pence; but the lofty aspirant to genteel
     accommodation, must put down a tester. In this way there are
     frequently beds to the number of seventy in one house, made
     up for nocturnal visitants!
</pre>
    <p>
      Palestine in London, or the Holy Land, includes that portion of the parish
      of St. Giles, Bloomsbury, inhabited by the lower Irish, with whom it seems
      a favorite place of residence. The Squire having expressed to his friend a
      desire of perambulating these boundaries, they proceeded, by the way of
      George street, to explore the sanctified labyrinths, the scenes of diurnal
      clamour, and hebdomadary conflict.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Arrah now," exclaimed a voice of maternity, in the person of a legitimate
      daughter of Erin,&mdash;"Arrah now, you brat of the devil's own begetting,
      be after bowling along to your fader: bad luck to him, and be sure that
      you bring him home wid you, by the token that the murphies are cracking,
      the salt-herrings scalding, and the apple-dumplings tumbling about the
      pot,&mdash;d'ye mind me, you tief of the world, tell him that his dinner
      waits upon him."&mdash;"I'll be after doing that same, moder;" and forth
      from the ground floor of a mean looking house in Buckeridge-street, sprang
      an urchin without hat, shoe or stocking, and the scanty tattered
      habiliment he wore, fluttering in <span class="pagenum">[105]</span>various
      hues, like pennants in the wind, with such heedless velocity, urged no
      doubt by the anticipated delicacies of the dinner-pot, that he came in
      furious, unexpected, and irresistible contact with Squire Tallyho, who
      borne forward by the shock, was precipitated into a stagnant collection of
      mud and water, to the total disfigurement of his Boots, which had that
      morning received the "matchlessly brilliant polish of Warren's inestimable
      Jet blacking." Not like many others in London, who will run you down and
      leave you to your fate, the heir of his fader's whimsicalities stopped
      short in the inauspicious set-out of his rapid career; and "dirty end," he
      exclaimed, "to the scavenger that didn't think of the gentleman's boots!"
      And at the same time the mother of this hopeful representative of the Mac
      Dermott family, made her appearance with the genuine warmth of Irish
      hospitality; and inviting the two strangers to walk in, consoled the
      bespattered Squire with the prospect of speedy and effectual reparation,
      for "fait and troth, (said she) his dinner is all of a heap in the pot
      there, praaties, salt-herrings, and apple-dumplings,{1} and that is my
      husband Thady Mac Dermott, who is neither more nor less than a
      bricklayer's laborer, is after amusing himself and obliging his
      neighbours, at a small outlay, of a Sunday morning, by claning their boots
      and shoes; so it is an ill wind that blows nobody good, they say." The
      accommodating hostess then producing a bottle of blacking, with the
      requisite brushing implements, applied herself assiduously to the
      operation of claning the Squire's boots, and restored them, in a few
      minutes, to the splendour of their pristine brilliancy.
    </p>
    <p>
      Scarcely had this important operation been performed, when entered Thady
      Mac Dermott and his son, the origin of the accident. "The devil burn your
      trampers, you imp of the Mac Dermotts," cried the father: "couldn't you
      run against the gentleman without dirtying his boots? Never mind it at all
      at all; I'll be after giving you a walloping for it, any how."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The fastidious delicacy of English cookery, when
     contrasted with that of Irish culinary preparation in the
     Holy-land, is surprising. The wife of an Irish laborer who
     is desirous of giving her husband a delectable meal, and of
     various description, bodders not her brain with a diversity
     of utensils; but from the same pot or pan will produce, as
     if by enchantment, potatoes, (without which an Irishman
     cannot possibly make a dinner,) salt-herrings, and apple-
     dumplings; nor, does this extraordinary union of opposites
     affect the appetite of those partaking the oglio.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[106]</span> The first instrument of attack that
      comes to hand is an Irishman's weapon.&mdash;Thady brandished in <i>terrorem</i>
      a red hot poker, and his son with the agility of a cat took sanctuary
      under the bed, but at the intercession of the Squire was allowed to emerge
      with impunity, and admitted to a participation of the salt-herrings and
      apple-dumplings. The two friends declining an invitation to taste of these
      dainties, now departed, Tallyho not forgetting the "outlay, and the
      ill-wind that blows nobody good."
    </p>
    <p>
      Winding the mazes of the holy land, which may not unaptly be considered a
      colony of Irish emigrants, our perambulators without further occurrence
      worthy of notice, threaded their way through streets, lanes, and alleys,
      until they emerged at the bottom of Tottenham-court Road, close by the
      extensive brewery of Read and Co. Entering the premises, they were
      gratified with a view of every thing interesting in the establishment; and
      the Squire, to whom the spectacle was entirely new, stood wrapt in wonder
      at the vast magnitude of its immense vats and boilers, containing, as he
      observed, of the fluid of Sir John Barleycorn, a sufficiency to inundate
      the whole neighbourhood! "Such a circumstance," said the attendant,
      "actually occurred a few years ago, when the vat burst, and an ocean of
      beer rushed forth, with such impetuous force as to bear down, in its
      resistless progress, the side of a house, and fill, to the imminent hazard
      of drowning the astonished and alarmed occupants, all the cellars in the
      vicinity."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Scarcely any thing contributes so much to characterize the
     enterprising spirit of the present age, as the vast scale on
     which many branches of manufacture are carried on in this
     country. Every one has heard of the celebrated tun of
     Heidelberg, but that monument of idle vanity is rivalled by
     the vessels now employed in the breweries of this
     metropolis.
</pre>
    <p>
      Having seen all that is remarkable in this spacious concern, the two
      associates turned into Oxford Street, where their attention was directed
      to a gay female in an elegant equipage, pair in hand, dashing along, in
      the manner of royal celerity.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Observe that lady," said Dashall, "She is the celebrated Mrs. C*r*y, the
      favourite sultana of a certain Commander in Chief, and I shall give you
      her history in a few words."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[107]</span> "Sutherland, a bombadier at Woolwich,
      obtained a commission, but was less successful in securing the fidelity of
      his wife, who eloped with an officer to Gibraltar; the produce of this
      intercourse was the amoroso whom we observed <i>en passant</i>; in process
      of time she married C*r*y, an officer in a veteran battalion, but shortly
      afterwards getting tired of the connection, she adopted the laudable
      example set by her respectable mamma, deserted her husband and came to
      England, under the protection of a surgeon in the army, whose embraces she
      relinquished for those of her present illustrious possessor. How long she
      may keep him in captivation, is a surmise of rather equivocal import;
      however ardent at present, his attachment, Mrs. C*r*y must be aware of the
      versatile propensities of his R*y*l H*ghn*ss of Y**k, and sans doubt like
      her predecessor, Mary Ann C***ke, will make the most of a favourable
      opportunity."
    </p>
    <p>
      "London exhibits Real Life in all its forms and gradations, from the
      hireling of royalty in a curricle, to the passive spouse of all the town,
      on the pavement; from the splendour of affluence to the miseries of
      penury; even Mendicity itself has its shades of variety, its success being
      less frequently derived from the acuteness of distress than the caprice of
      Nature, in having gifted the mendicant with some peculiar eccentricity of
      person or character, to attract attention and sympathy. He who is without
      these endowments passes unnoticed; but the diminutive and deformed
      creature, seated on a child's cart, who with the help of crutches shoves
      himself along the street, and whose whole height, including his machine,
      does not exceed two feet; this minikin, <i>ecce homo</i>, is gazed at by
      the casual passenger as a prodigy, and seldom fails to benefit by the
      excitation of curiosity."&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Approaching the tiny personage alluded to,&mdash;"Well, Mr. Andrew
      Whiston," said Dashall, "what important business brings you so far
      westward? I thought that your migrations from Bankside had never extended
      beyond the precincts of Temple-bar."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I wot weel, your honor, that I have strayed far frae hame, and to little
      purpose,&mdash;better fortune has not lit on me this wearisome day, than
      meeting wi' your honor, for God bless you many a time has the poor
      dwarfish body tasted your bounty."
    </p>
    <p>
      During this colloquy, Tallyho gazed on the poor dwarfish body with
      commiseration, intermixed with no small portion of surprise, at this fresh
      display of general knowledge by his intelligent and amusing coz, to whom
      all of interest and curiosity in the metropolis, animate and inanimate,
      seemed perfectly familiar.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[108]</span> "And whither away now, Master Whiston;
      do you mean to look in at the rendezvous to night?"{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      "Faith no, sir,&mdash;I got a fright there some few years since, and I
      shall be very cautious of getting into the like disaster a second time."
    </p>
    <p>
      The conversation had so far proceeded, to the entertainment of congregated
      passengers, when the auditory getting rather inconveniently numerous, the
      two friends left each his mite of benevolence with Maister Andrew Whiston,
      gaining home without further incident or interruption.{2}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Recurring to the holy land, the rendezvous is a noted
     house in St. Giles's, where, after the labors of the day,
     the mendicant fraternity assemble, enjoy the comfort of a
     good supper; amongst other items, not unfrequently an
     alderman in chains, alias a roast turkey, garnished with
     pork-sausages; elect their chairman, and spend the night as
     jolly beggars ought to do, in mirth and revelry.

     2 Andrew Whiston was born at Dundee in Scotland, February
     10th, 1770, and has, during the last twenty-eight years,
     resided in London. The person of this man is well known to
     the perambulators of the metropolis. He forms altogether a
     disgusting little figure, pushing himself about on a small
     cart, which moves upon wheels, and wearing an apron to
     conceal the deformity of his legs. His whole height,
     including his vehicle, does not exceed two feet. To avoid
     the penalties attached to begging and vagrancy, he carries a
     few pens stuck between his coat and waistcoat, and declares
     that the dealing in those articles is the only trade to
     which he has been brought up. It is not improbable, that by
     means of this, and other arts and mysteries which he
     exercises, Andrew has been enabled to procure something more
     than salt to his porridge. It cannot be supposed that his
     person is calculated to excite the tender passion; it must
     therefore be to the idea of his having accumulated wealth,
     that we are to attribute the following circumstance. A short
     time since, Andrew began to think seriously of taking unto
     himself a wife, and having looked round among his female
     acquaint-ance for a desirable partner, he fixed his choice
     on a Mrs. Marshall, the widow of a waterman, who follows the
     trade of a retail dealer in fish, at the corner of Spiller's
     public-house, on that side of the Surrey Road which he
     usually frequents. This fair lady, who might perhaps have
     been dead as a roach to his addresses, if he had possessed
     nothing but his deformed person to offer, proved leaping
     alive, ho! at the thought of Andrew's little hoard, of which
     she hoped to become mistress. Several presents attested the
     seriousness of the lover's proposals, and his charmer was
     all compliance to his wishes, till he had actually sent the
     money to pay for publishing the banns at Christ Church, when
     the ridicule of all her acquaintance urged her to abandon
     the design of so preposterous a match.
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0007" id="link32HCH0007">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Gae him strong drink until he wink,
          That's sinking in despair;
          And liquor gúid to fire his blúid,
          That's prest wi' grief and care;&mdash;
          Then let him boose and deep carouse,
          Wi' bumpers flowing o'er;
          'Till he forgets his fears and debts,
          And minds his ills no more.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[109]</span> DASHALL, during a stroll with his
      relation round the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, learning that several
      of his friends had formed a select party to dine at the Shakespear that
      day, sent in the names of himself and Coz, and they were received by the
      social and convivial assemblage with acclamation.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Dinner-party comprised Sir Felix O'Grady, an Irish baronet just
      imported from the province of Munster; the honorable Frederick Fitzroy, a
      luminary in the constellation of Fashion; Colonel Mc. Can, a distinguished
      Scotch Officer; an amateur Poet; a member of the Corps Dramatique; and our
      old friends Sparkle and Mortimer, with the augmentation of Dashall and
      Tallyho, as already mentioned.
    </p>
    <p>
      The viands were excellent, and the wines of the first quality.
      Conviviality was the order of the evening, and its whimsicalities were
      commenced during the repast, by the player, who, taking up a goblet of
      wine, and assuming the attitude of Macbeth in the banquet scene, exclaimed&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "I drink
          To the general joy of the whole table;&mdash;
          May good digestion wait on appetite,
          And health on both."&mdash;&mdash;
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[110]</span>The bottle was now put into quick
      circulation; harmony and hilarity prevailed; and the poet, availing
      himself of the moments of inspiration, gave the following chant, <i>extempore</i>.&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                            Song.

          Air.    Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen.

          Here's to the land where fair Freedom is seen,

          Old England,&mdash;her glory and trade, aye;&mdash;
          Here's to the island of Erin so green,
          And here's to Sir Felix O'Grady;
          Let the toast pass,
          Flinch not the glass
          That warms like the kiss of your favorite lass.

          Here's to the beaus and the belles of the day,

          The pleasures of life who enjoy, sir;&mdash;
          Here's to the leaders of fashion, so gay,
          And here's to the dashing Fitzroy, sir.
          Let the toast pass,
          Flinch not the glass
          That warms like the kiss of your favorite lass.

          Here's to our sailors who plough the salt wave,

          And never from battle have ran, sir;&mdash;
          Here's to our soldiers who nobly behave,
          And here's to brave Colonel Mc. Can, sir.
          Let the toast pass,
          Flinch not the glass
          That warms like the kiss of your favorite lass.

          Here's to the joys that our reason engage,

          Where Truth shines our best benefactress;
          Here's to the triumph of Learning,&mdash;the Stage,-
          And here's to each actor and actress.
          Let the toast pass,
          Flinch not the glass
          That warms like the kiss of your favorite lass.

          Here's to the man with a head to discern,

          And eke with a heart to bestow, sir,
          Tom Dashall, well skill'd Life in London to learn;
          And here's to the Squire Tallyho, sir.
          Let the toast pass,
          Flinch not the glass
          That warms like the kiss of your favorite lass.

          Here's to the friendship united and true,

          That paces variety's round, sir;
          To Sparkle and Mortimer fill then, anew,
          And let us with pleasure abound, sir.
          Let the toast pass,
          Flinch not the glass
          That warms like the kiss of your favorite lass.
</pre>
    <p>
      This complimentary bag-a-telle was well received, and Sir Felix, shaking
      the amateur cordially by the hand, observed, that amongst other
      attainments before he left London, he meant to acquire the art of making
      verses, when he should give the poet a Rowland for his Oliver!
    </p>
    <p>
      The player having but recently returned to Town, after completing his
      engagements with some of the Irish provincial theatres, proceeded to amuse
      his auditory, the baronet excepted, with accounts of the manner of posting
      in the sister kingdom.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Travelling," said he, "in the province of Munster, having got into a
      chaise, I was surprised to hear the driver knocking at each side of the
      carriage.&mdash;"What are you doing?"&mdash;"A'n't I nailing your honor?"&mdash;"Why
      do you nail me up? I don't wish to be nailed up."&mdash;"Augh! would your
      honor have the doors fly off the hinges?" When we came to the end of the
      stage, I begged the man to unfasten the doors.&mdash;"Ogh! what would I be
      taking out the nails for, to be racking the doors?"&mdash;"How shall I get
      out then?"&mdash;"Can't your honor get out of the window like any other
      jontleman?" I then began the operation; but having forced my head and
      shoulders out, could get no farther, and called again to the postillion.&mdash;"Augh!
      did any one ever see any one get out of a chay head foremost? Can't your
      honor put out your feet first, like a Christian?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Here the baronet manifested considerable impatience, and was about to
      interrupt the narrator, when the latter requesting permission, continued:
    </p>
    <p>
      "Next day four horses were attached to the crazy vehicle;&mdash;one,
      unfortunately, lost a shoe; and as I refused to go on until the poor
      animal was shod, my two postillions commenced, in my hearing, a colloquy.&mdash;"Paddy,
      where will I get a shoe, and no smith nigh hand?"&mdash;"Why don't you see
      yon jontleman's horse in the field; can't you go and unshoe him?"&mdash;"True
      for ye," said Jem, "but that horse's shoe will never fit him." "Augh! you
      can but try it," said Paddy. So the gentleman's horse was actually unshod,
      and his shoe put upon the posting hack; and fit or not fit, Paddy went off
      with it.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[112]</span> "Same day, during a violent storm of
      wind and rain, 1 found that two of the windows were broken, and two could
      not, by force or art of man, be pulled up. I ventured to complain to Paddy
      of the inconvenience I suffered from the storm pelting in my face. His
      consolation was, "Augh! God bless your honour, and can't you get out and
      set behind the carriage, and you'll not get a drop at all, I'll engage!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The player having thus closed his narrative, and the laughter of the
      company having subsided, the baronet very candidly admitted, that the
      sister kingdom in many parts, was miserably deficient in the requisites of
      travelling, and other conveniences to which the English were accustomed.
      But in process of time (he continued) we shall get more civilized.
      Nevertheless, we have still an advantage over you; we have more
      hospitality, and more honesty. Nay, by the powers! but it is so, my good
      friends. However much we unhappily may quarrel with each other, we respect
      the stranger who comes to sojourn amongst us; and long would he reside,
      even in the province of Munster, before a dirty spalpeen would rob him of
      his great coat and umbrella, and be after doing that same thing when he
      was at a friend's house too, from which they were taken, along with nearly
      all the great coats, cloaks, shawls, pelisses, hats and umbrellas,
      belonging to the company."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 We are inclined to believe that Sir Felix alludes to the
     fol-lowing instance of daring depredation.
</pre>
    <p>
      Extraordinary Robbery. On Thursday night, whilst a large party of young
      folks were assembled at the house of Mr. Gregory, in Hertford Street,
      Fitzroy Square, to supper, a young man was let in by a servant, who said
      he had brought a cloak for his young mistress, as the night was cold. The
      servant left him in the hall, and went up stairs; when shortly after, a
      second arrived with a hackney coach, and on his being questioned by the
      servant, he said he brought the coach to take his master and mistress
      home. The servant was not acquainted with the names of half the company,
      and therefore credited what was told her. The two strangers were suffered
      to stand at the stairs head, to listen to the music and singing, with
      which they appeared highly delighted, and also had their supper and plenty
      to drink. But while festive hilarity prevailed above, the villains began
      to exercise their calling below, and the supper table in a trice they
      unloaded of four silver table spoons, a silver sauce-boat, knives and
      forks, &amp;c. and from off the pegs and banisters they stole eight
      top-coats, several cloaks, shawls, pelisses and hats, besides a number of
      umbrellas, muffs, tippets, and other articles, all of which they carried
      off in the coach which was in waiting. To complete the farce, the watchman
      shut the coach door, and wished "their honours" good night. The robbery
      was not discovered until the company was breaking up. No trace of the
      thieves can be found.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[113]</span> There was certainly somewhat of an <i>Irishism</i>
      in the baronet's remark.&mdash;Of eight great coats stolen, the thieves
      could not discriminate who were the respective owners, and if it had been
      possible that they could have discriminated, it is not likely that any
      regard for the laws of hospitality would have induced them to make an
      exception of Sir Felix O'Grady's property amidst the general depredation.
    </p>
    <p>
      The company, although secretly amused by the baronet's remarks, condoled
      with him on the loss he had sustained; and the player protesting that in
      stating the facts of Irish posting, he had no intention of giving the
      baronet the least offence, unanimity was restored, and the conviviality of
      the evening proceeded without further interruption.
    </p>
    <p>
      Sir Felix made Irish bulls, and gave Irish anecdotes; the amateur
      occasionally gave a song or a stanza impromptu; the player spouted,
      recited, and took off several of his brother performers, by exhibiting
      their defects in close imitations,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Till tired at last wi' mony a farce,"
          They sat them down&mdash;
</pre>
    <p>
      and united with the remaining company in an attentive hearing to a
      conversation which the honorable Frederick Fitzroy had just commenced with
      his friend Dashall.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "You have now," said the honourable Frederick Fitzroy, addressing himself
      to Dashall, "You have now become a retired, steady, contemplative young
      man; a peripatetic philosopher; tired with the scenes of ton, and deriving
      pleasure only from the investigation of Real Life in London, accompanied
      in your wanderings, by your respectable relative of Belville-Hall; and yet
      while you were one of us, you shone like a star of the first magnitude,
      and participated in all the follies of fashion with a zest of enjoyment
      that forbid the presage of satiety or decline."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Neither," answered Dashall, "have I now altogether relinquished those
      pleasures, but by frequent repetition they become irksome; the mind is
      thus relieved by opposite pursuits, and the line of observation which I
      have latterly chosen has certainly afforded me much substantial
      information and rational amusement."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[114]</span> "Some such pursuit I too must think of
      adopting," replied Fitzroy, "else I shall sink into the gulph of ennuit to
      the verge of which I am fast approaching. Independent of the frequent
      ruinous consequences of the gaming-table, I have taken a dislike to its
      associates, and therefore abandoned their society; nor will you be
      surprised at my having adopted this resolution, when I inform you, that at
      my last sitting in one of these nefarious haunts of dissipation, I was
      minus to the extent, in a few hours, of several thousand pounds, the prize
      of unprincipled adventurers, of swindlers, black-legs, and
      pigeon-fanciers!"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 A pigeon-fancier is one of those speculators at the
     Gambling Houses, whose object it is to lie in wait for
     inexperienced noviciates, and under the pretext of fair and
     honorable dealing pluck their feathers; that is to say,
     strip them bare of their property. Days and nights are
     passed at the gaming-table.    "I remember," said the Earl
     of G&mdash;&mdash;, "spending three days and three nights in the
     hazard room of a well-known house in St James's Street; the
     shutters were closed, the curtains down, and we had candles
     the whole time; even in the adjoining rooms we had candles,
     that when our doors were opened to bring in refreshments, no
     obtrusive gleam of day-light might remind us how the hours
     had passed. How human nature supported the fatigue, I know
     not. We scarcely allowed ourselves a moment's pause to take
     the sustenance our bodies required. At last one of the
     waiters, who had been in the room with us the whole time,
     declared that he could hold out no longer, and that sleep he
     must. With difficulty he obtained an hour's truce; the
     moment he got out of the room he fell asleep, absolutely at
     the very threshold of our door. By the rules of the house he
     was entitled to a bonus on every transfer of property at the
     hazard-table; and he made in the course of three days, up-
     wards of Three hundred pounds! Sleep and avarice had
     struggled to the utmost, but, with his vulgar habit, sleep
     prevailed. We were wide awake. I never shall forget the
     figure of one of my noble associates, who sat holding his
     watch, his eager eyes fixed upon the minute-hand, whilst he
     exclaimed continually, "This hour will never be over!" Then
     he listened to discover whether his watch had stopped, then
     cursed the lazy fellow for falling asleep, protesting, that
     for his part, he never would again consent to such a waste
     of time. The very instant the hour was ended, he ordered
     "that dog" to be awakened, and to work we went. At this
     sitting Thirty-five Thousand Pounds were lost and won. I was
     very fortunate, for I lost a mere trifle&mdash;Ten Thousand
     Pounds only!"
</pre>
    <p>
      Dashall congratulated Fitzroy on his resolution, in having cut the
      dangerous connexion, and expressed a hope that in due process of time he
      would emancipate himself from the trammels of dissipation generally.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[115]</span> "That," rejoined Fitzroy, "is already
      in a considerable degree effected."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the higher and middle classes of society," says a celebrated writer,
      "it is a melancholy and distressing sight to observe, not unfrequently, a
      man of a noble and ingenuous disposition, once feelingly alive to a sense
      of honor and integrity, gradually sinking under the pressure of his
      circumstances, making his excuses at first with a blush of conscious
      shame, afraid to see the faces of his friends from whom he may have
      borrowed money, reduced to the meanest tricks and subterfuges to delay or
      avoid the payment of his just debts, till ultimately grown familiar with
      falsehood, and at enmity with the world, he loses all the grace and
      dignity of man."&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Such," continued Fitzroy, "was the acmé of degradation to which I was
      rapidly advancing, when an incident occurred to arrest the progress of
      dissipation, and give a stimulus to more worthy pursuits.
    </p>
    <p>
      "One morning having visited a certain nunnery in the precincts of
      Pall-Mail, the Lady Abbess introduced me to a young noviciate, a beautiful
      girl of sixteen.
    </p>
    <p>
      "When we were left alone, she dropped on her knees, and in attitude and
      voice of the most urgent supplication, implored me to save her from
      infamy!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am in your power," she exclaimed, "but I feel confident that you will
      not use it to my dishonor.&mdash;I am yet innocent;&mdash;restore me to my
      parents,&mdash;pure and unsullied,&mdash;and the benediction of Heaven
      will reward you!"&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      She then told me a most lamentable tale of distress;&mdash;that her father
      was in prison for a small debt; and that her mother, her brothers and
      sisters, were starving at home.&mdash;Under these disastrous circumstances
      she had sought service, and was inveighd into that of mother W. from
      whence she had no hope of extrication, unless through my generous
      assistance! She concluded her pathetic appeal, by observing, that if the
      honorable Frederick Fitzroy had listened to the call of humanity, and paid
      a debt of long standing, her father would not now be breaking his heart in
      prison, her family famishing, nor herself subject to destruction.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And I am the Author of all!" I exclaimed, "I am the dis-honorable
      Frederick Fitzroy, who in the vortex of dissipation, forgot the exercise
      of common justice, and involved a worthy man and his suffering family in
      misery! But I thank heaven, the injury is not irreparable!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[116]</span> "I immediately explained to Mother W.
      the peculiarly distressing situation of this poor girl, rescued her from
      meditated perdition,&mdash;restored the husband to his family, with
      improved circumstances,&mdash;and by a continuance of my support, I trust,
      in some degree to atone for past transgression."
    </p>
    <p>
      This narrative excited much interest, and the approval, by the company, of
      Fitzroy's munificence was expressive and unanimous.
    </p>
    <p>
      The conviviality of the evening was renewed, and sustained until an early
      hour, when the party broke up; having enjoyed "the feast of reason, and
      the flow of soul," with temperate hilarity.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall, his Cousin, and Fitzroy, proceeding under the piazzas of Covent
      Garden, the latter suggested an hour's amusement in the Cellars underneath
      the Hotel, a proposition which was immediately acceded to by his
      companions, and the trio descended into the lower regions.
    </p>
    <p>
      The descent however bore not any resemblance to that of Telemachus into
      Hell. A brilliant light irradiated their passage, and the grim shadows of
      the infernal abode were, if present, without the ken of ocular
      observation. In place of the palace of Pandemonium, our triumvirate beheld
      the temple of Bacchus, where were assembled a number of Votaries,
      sacrificing to the jolly Deity of the Ancients, in frequent and powerful
      libations.
    </p>
    <p>
      By some unaccountable means the daemon of discord, however, gained
      admission and ascendancy.
    </p>
    <p>
      A scene now took place which baffles every attempt at description.&mdash;The
      row became general; decanters, glasses, and other fragile missiles, were
      resorted to,&mdash;their fragments strewed the floor,&mdash;and the
      terrified attendants hastened to require the interposition of the
      guardians of the night, in restoring order and tranquillity.
    </p>
    <p>
      Amidst the ravage and dissonance of war, our trio preserved a strict
      neutrality, and before the arrival of the mediating powers, had regained
      their position in the piazzas, where they waited the result of the
      conflict.
    </p>
    <p>
      Negotiations of peace having been unavailingly attempted, the refractory
      combatants were taken into custody, after an obstinate resistance, and
      conducted to "duress vile," in the Watch-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[117]</span> The tragi-comedy was dacently wound up
      by one of the performers, a native of the Emerald Isle, who thinking it
      necessary that the neighbourhood should have an intimation of the
      proceedings, announced the hour of "past three," with the accompaniment of
      "a bloody MORNING!"{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      The neutrals now proceeded to their respective homes, and our two
      associates reached their domicile, without the occurrence of further
      incident.
    </p>
    <p>
      Next morning the indicative double rit-tat of the postman induced the
      Squire from the breakfast-parlor to the hall. The servant had opened the
      door, and received the letters; when an itinerant dealer in genuine
      articles obtruded himself on the threshold, and doffing his castor after
      the manner of a knowing one, enquired whether his honor was pleased to be
      spoke with. Tallyho desired him to step in, and required to know his
      business. The fellow with a significant wink, and many prelusive apologies
      for the liberty he was about to take, stated that he had accidentally come
      into possession of some contraband goods, chiefly Hollands, Geneva, and
      India silk handkerchiefs, of prime and indisputable excellence; which he
      could part with at unparalleled low prices;&mdash;that he had already, in
      this private way, disposed of the greatest portion, and that if his honor
      was inclined to become a purchaser, he now had the opportunity of blending
      economy with superlative excellence, in an almost incredible degree, and
      unequalled in any part of the three kingdoms.
    </p>
    <p>
      This flourish the Squire answered with becoming indignity; expressed his
      surprise at the consummate assurance of any trickster who would dare to
      offer him a contraband article, to the prejudice of His Majesty's revenue;
      and ordered the servant to turn the "scoundrel" out of doors.{2}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The above mentioned fracas took place a few weeks ago.&mdash;
     The offenders "against the peace of our Sovereign Lord the
     King," were next day held before one of the Police
     Magistrates, when it appearing that the row occurred under
     the influence of ebriety, and that the landlord and the
     watchmen were the only sufferers, a com-promise was
     permitted, and the parties were discharged with a suitable
     admonition.

     2 "Contraband articles." The Squire apparently was not
     aware that the superlatively excellent Hollands, Geneva, and
     India-hand-kerchiefs were, the one the manufacture of
     Spital-fields, and the other the sophisticated balderdash
     known by the name of Maidstone gin. It is a fact, altho' not
     generally known, that at the different watering places every
     season, the venders of silk handkerchiefs manufactured in
     Spital-flelds, carry on a lucrative trade, by disposing of
     them under the affectation of secrecy, as the genuine
     produce of the Indian loom; and thus accommodating
     themselves to the prejudice of their customers against our
     native productions; get off in threefold proportion, the
     number sold in London, and at a cent per cent greater
     advantage!

     With respect to alleged contraband SPIRITS, the deceit is
     more successfully manoeuvred in Town than in the country.&mdash;
     The facility of smuggling on the coast frequently supplies
     the maritime visitant with a cheap and genuine beverage. In
     Town the same opportunity does not occur, and on the
     uninitiated in the cheats of London, the system of this
     species of imposition is more frequently practised.
     Professing to exhibit Real Life in London, we shall not
     trouble our readers with an apology for the introduction of
     the following appropriate incident&mdash;

     Court ok Requests.&mdash;Holborn.&mdash;A case of rather a curious
     nature, and which was characterised rather by the absurd
     credulity of the parties than by its novelty, came before
     the Commissioners on Thursday last. A man of the name of
     O'Regan attended the Court, to show cause against a summons
     which had been issued, calling upon him to pay a debt of
     eighteen shillings, which was alleged to be due by him to a
     person who stated his name to be Higgins. The parties were
     both Irishmen, and exhibited a good deal of irritation as
     well as confusion, in their stories. With some difficulty
     the following facts were collected from their respective
     statements;&mdash;On Tuesday week, about nine o'clock in the
     evening, a man dressed in the costume of a sailor, and
     wearing a large rough coat, similar to that commonly worn by
     sea-faring men, in bad weather, entered the shop of O'Regan,
     who is a dealer in salt fish, and other haberdashery," as he
     called it, in St. Giles's; and beckoning to the back part of
     the room, and at the same time looking very significantly,
     said, "May be you would not like a drop of the "real thing,"
     to keep a merry Christmas with?" "What do you mane?" says
     O'Regan. "Whiskey, to be sure," says the man. "Faith, and
     it's I that would, "replied O'Regan, "provided it was good
     and chape." "Och, by the piper of Kilrush," says the man,
     "there has not been a noter, claner, more completer drop of
     <i>Putshean</i> (whiskey illicitly distilled,) smuggled across
     the <i>Herring-brook</i> (the Irish Channel,) for many a long
     day, and as for chapeness, you shall have it for an ould
     song." "You don't mane to say it's after being smuggled!"
     says O'Regan. "Be my soul, but I do," rejoined the man,
     "it's I and Jack Corcoran, a friend of mine, brought it safe
     and sound into the Thames last Sunday, in the shape of a
     cargo of butter-firkins, from Cork." "Could a body taste
     it?"pursued O'Regan. With a couple of "why nots," says the
     man, "I've a blather full of it under my oxther (his arm-
     pit,) if you'll lind us hould of a glass." O'Regan said he
     hadn't a glass handy, but he brought a cup, and the bladder
     being produced, a fair taste was poured forth, which
     O'Regan, having tippled it off, after collecting his breath,
     swore was "the darling of a drop, it was the next kin to
     aquafortis."&mdash;"Aqua fifties you mane" says the man,
     "aquafortis is a fool to it." The next question was, as to
     the price?"Och, by the powers," says the honest smuggler,
     "as you're a countryman and friend, you shall have it for
     ten shillings a gallon, and less than that I would'nt give
     it to my mother." O'Regan thought this too much, and
     proposed eight shillings a gallon; but, after much
     chartering, he agreed to give nine shillings. The quantity
     was next discussed. The man could not sell less than an
     anker, four gallons. This was too much for O'Regan; but he
     finally determined to get a friend to go partners, and
     Higgins, who lodged in his house, was called down and also
     indulged with a taste, which he likewise pronounced
     "beautiful." It was then arranged, with strong injunctions
     of secrecy, that the tub should be brought the next night,
     in a half-bushel sack, as if it were coals, and the hour of
     nine was appointed. The smuggler then departed, but was true
     to his appointment. He came at the hour fixed on the
     Wednesday night, and in the disguise proposed. The commodity
     was then carried into a little back parlor, with great
     mystery, and deposited in a cupboard, and the doors being
     all shut, he demanded his cash. "To be sure," says Higgins;
     "but, first and foremost (for he was more cautious than his
     friend,) let us see if it is as good as the sample was?"
     "Och, the devil burn me," says the smuggler, "if I'd desave
     you." "Sure I know you would'nt," replied Higgins, "only
     just I'd like to wet my whistle with another drop, as you
     may say." "Touch my honor, touch my life," says the
     smuggler; and seizing the tub with some indignation, he
     called for the poker, and then striking the barrel on each
     side the bung-hole, out started the bung. He next called for
     a table-spoon, and a cup, and ladling out about a noggin,
     alias a quartern, handed it to O'Regan, who, having taken a
     suck, by the twist of his eye and the smack of his lips,
     evinced his satisfaction. Higgins finished it; and
     exclaiming, "it's the dandy," passed his hand in his
     pocket, without further hesitation, and produced his
     eighteen shillings. O'Regan did the same, and the cask being
     safely locked in the cupboard, the smuggler was let out with
     as much caution as he had been admitted. O'Regan and Higgins
     then held a council upon the division of the spoil; and the
     latter went up stairs to fetch down a two gallon jar, while
     the former ran to the public-house to borrow a measure. They
     soon met again in the parlor, and the tub was brought out.
     They endeavoured at first to get the bung out in the same
     manner which they had observed the smuggler pursue, but not
     being equally acquainted with the subject, they could not
     succeed. This difficulty, however, was soon obviated.
     O'Regan obtained a large gimblet from a next door neighbour,
     and a hole being bored in one of the ends, the liquor began
     to flow very freely into the measure which was held to
     receive it. Higgins remarked that it looked very muddy, and
     on the pint being full, lifted it up to have another sup;
     but he had no sooner taken a gulp, than, to the dismay of
     O'Regan, he exclaimed, "Oh, Holy Paul, it's bilge!"
     mentioning a very unsavoury liquid. "Brother," says O'Regan,
     and snatching the measure from his partner, took a mouthful
     himself, which he as quickly spirted about the floor; and
     then, in an agitated tone, cried out, "Sure enough Higgins,
     it is bilge, and precious bail it is, as ever I drank." They
     now eyed each other for some time with mutual surprise, and
     then sympathetically agreed that they must have been "done."
     It was still, however, a matter of surprise to them, how
     their friend, the smuggler, could have taken good whiskey
     (which that they had tasted from the bung-hole certainly
     was,) from such nastiness. In order to solve their doubts,
     they procured a pail; and, having emptied the cask, they
     proceeded to break it to pieces, when, to their
     astonishment, the mystery was unravelled, and their folly,
     in being made the dupes of a pretended smuggler, made fully
     manifest; for immediately under the bung-hole they found a
     small tin box, capable of containing about half a pint,
     which, being tightly tacked to one of the staves, kept the
     pure liquor, a small quantity of which still remained, from
     that which was of a very opposite character. It was no
     laughing matter, and they were not, therefore, very merry on
     the occasion; and still less so, when Higgins demanded of
     O'Regan the repayment of his eighteen shillings; this
     O'Regan refused, and a quarrel ensued, which after having
     terminated in a regular "set to," attended with painful
     consequences to both; was followed by Higgins applying to
     this Court for the summons which led to their appearance
     before the Commissioners. The whole of the circum-stances,
     with infinite trouble, having been thus unravelled; the
     Commissioner declared his inability to afford Mr. Higgins
     any re-dress. There was clearly no debt incurred; there was
     a mutual compact, entered into for an illegal purpose, for
     had the liquid which they had purchased been smuggled
     spirits, they were liable to pay a large penalty for having
     bought it. But putting aside all these considerations, it
     was clear that Higgins had, with a proper degree of caution,
     endeavoured to satisfy himself of the quality of the article
     before he paid his money; and thereby showed that he was not
     acting under a confidence in any guarantee on the part of
     O'Regan; and consequently could have no claim on him. In
     this view of the case, he should dismiss the summons without
     costs. The parties then retired, amidst the laughter of the
     by-standers; and Higgins, who was evidently much mortified,
     swore he would take the worth of his eighteen shillings
     "out of O'Regan's bones!"
</pre>
    <p>
      This command was obeyed with alacrity, and as promptly acceded to by the
      discomfited intruder, who, however, retrieved, without doubt, in the
      credulity of others, the disappointment he had sustained by the
      pertinacity of the Squire.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[120]</span> The morning was unfavourable to
      pedestrian excursion. The library was well stored with literature in
      choice variety. To this antidote of ennui the Squire resorted, while
      Dashall wrote cards of invitation to a few select friends, whom he knew
      would, <i>sans cerémonie</i> honor his table to take bachelor's fare with
      him in the evening.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I pity the man in a rainy day," says a writer, "who cannot find amusement
      in reading." This was not the case with the two associates;&mdash;the
      intellectual treat afforded by the library was fully enjoyed; and the
      moments glided on, imperceptibly, until verging on the hour of dinner.
    </p>
    <p>
      The friends to whom Dashall had sent round, one and all accepted his
      invitation, and the remainder of the day was devoted to that refined
      hilarity, of which his hospitable board was always the chief
      characteristic.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0008" id="link32HCH0008">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VIII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          London, thy streets abound with incident.&mdash;
          Dashing along, here roll the vehicles,
          Splendid, and drawn by highly pamper'd steeds,
          Of rank and wealth; and intermix'd with these,
          The hackney chariot, urg'd to sober pace
          Its jaded horses; while the long-drawn train
          Of waggons, carts, and drays, pond'rous and slow,
          Complete the dissonance, stunning the ear
          Like pealing thunder, harsh and continuous,
          While on either side the busy multitude
          Pass on, various and infinite.&mdash;
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[122]</span> THE following morning presented the
      exhilarating aspect of an unclouded sky, and the two friends were
      anticipating, at the breakfast-table, the enjoyment of a fine day,&mdash;when
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          A double rat-tat, quickly doubled again,            »
          Announced an intruder of Consequence vain,
          Decorum inclin'd to defy all;&mdash;
          Again went the knocker, yet louder and faster,
          John ran to the door,  and one ask'd for his master,
          Resolv'd against taking denial.&mdash;
</pre>
    <p>
      "My good fellow," said the stranger, "will you be after representing my
      obeisance and all that, to the Honorable Mr. Dashall, and I beg to know
      whether he is at home?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your name, sir?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Augh, what does it signify?&mdash;Tell him an old friend with a new face,&mdash;arrah,
      not so,&mdash;tell him, that a new friend with no face at all at all,
      would be glad to wait upon him.&mdash;Sir Felix O'Grady, the Munster
      baronet, d'ye mind me?"
    </p>
    <p>
      This was an unexpected visit, and the more kindly received by Dashall and
      Tallyho, who promised themselves considerable amusement in the acquisition
      of the baronet's society, which was readily conceded for the day, to their
      request.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[123]</span> "Have you breakfasted?" asked Dashall.
      "Whether or not," answered Sir Felix, "I'll take a cup of taa with you,
      any how."
    </p>
    <p>
      When the repast was finished, the triumvirate set out on their pedestrian
      excursion; interrupted however, in their progress, by a temporary shower,
      they took refuge in a Coffee-house, where Sir Felix taking up a Newspaper,
      read from amongst the numerous advertisements, the following selected
      article of information,&mdash;"Convenient accommodations for ladies who
      are desirous of privately lying in, and their infants carefully put out to
      nurse." "Well now, after all," observed the baronet, "this same London is
      a very convanient place, where a lady may gratify her pleasurable
      propensities, and at same time preserve an unblemished reputation. It is
      only going into the country, sure, for the benefit of her health; that is
      to say, she retires to one of the villages in the neighbourhood of London,
      pays her way without name given or questions asked, and in a few months,
      returns to Town improved in health, but more slender in person, all her
      acquaintance exclaiming, "La! my dear, how vastly thin you have grown!"&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "There are in London and its neighbourhood," said Dashall, "numerous such
      convenient asylums; but I cannot acquiesce in their utility.&mdash;I am
      rather of opinion that they have a demoralizing tendency, as accelerating
      by concealment, the progress of licentiousness.&mdash;Human failings will
      still predominate, and the indulgence of illicit intercourse is less
      frequently prevented by an innate principle of virtue than the dread of
      shame. When facility of concealment is therefore given to the result,
      these connexions will still become more prevalent."
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the Powers," exclaimed Sir Felix, "but I think Morality ought to feel
      particularly benefited by these convanient asylums; they preserve
      reputation, and in some instances have prevented suicide and murder. I
      know of two cases wherein both crimes were perpetrated through a sense of
      shame and dread of discovery, which probably would not have happened could
      the unfortunates have resorted to "convanient accommodations."&mdash;Well,
      here's good luck to the fair sex, the dear cratures! and may they, every
      one of them, die on a Christmas day, any how!"{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[124]</span> This eccentric wish elicited a look of
      surprise from the Squire, which Sir Felix observing,&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "My rason is," said he, "that the gates of heaven being open all that day
      long, a body may slip in unknownst, as it is to be hoped that you, Mr.
      Dashall, and I may do, some day shortly without any interruption at all,
      at all."
    </p>
    <p>
      This ludicrous finis excited the laughter of the company&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "But lo! the clouds break off, and sideways run,
          Out from his shelter lively looks the sun:"
</pre>
    <p>
      and the united observers of Real Life hailing the favorable presage,
      resumed their perambulation.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Advancing along Piccadilly towards Hyde Park, they reached the splendid
      mansion of the hero of Waterloo; the gates were open, and a travelling
      carriage with four horses was in waiting for his Grace, who was then about
      setting off to inspect the fortifications of the Netherlands.{2} Neither
      Sir Felix nor Tallyho having ever seen the Duke, the triumvirate paused at
      the entrance of the Court-yard, until the carriage came forth, when they
      saluted the gallant warrior with the tribute of respect due to
      distinguished services and exalted genius, which his Grace very
      courteously returned.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1  On the subject of "convenient accommodation for ladies
     who wish privately to ly in," if we might hazard an opinion,
     it would be in coincidence with that of our friend Dashall.
     These establishments' are certainly an encouragement to
     licentiousness, and it is well known, that in many of these
     receptacles, "where the strictest honor and secrecy may be
     relied on," the allurement of <i>abortion</i> is held out to the
     unhappy female, if she declines the anticipation of maternal
     solicitude.

     2 Thirty-Two Great Personages! Anecdote of the Duke of
     Wellington,&mdash;His Grace, the Duke of Wellington, when last in
     the Netherlands, and travelling without attendants, in a
     part of the country where his multitudinous titles were not
     well understood, was overtaken on the road by a veteran
     officer, whose route lay in the same direction with that of
     his Grace. The Duke having occasion to stop; and as the
     officer would reach a certain town several hours before him,
     he requested that the veteran would take the trouble of
     ordering dinner for him, at the principal Inn. The old
     officer made his congee, and pro-ceeded on his mission. "I
     am desired to order dinner here," said he, to the landlord;
     "but stay, I had better state who for."   Then calling for
     pen and ink, he presented the astonished and delighted host
     with the following list of his forthcoming illustrious
     guests.

     The Prince of Waterloo!
     The Duke of Wellington.&mdash;The Duke of Ciudad Rodrigo,
     and The Duke of Vittoria.
     The Marquis of Douro, and a Marshal General of France.
     Master General of the Ordnance.

     Colonel of the Royal Regt. of Horse Guards, Blue.
     Colonel of the Rifle Brigade.

     The Lord Lieutenant of Hampshire.&mdash;And

     The Governor of Plymouth.

     Field Marshal of Austria,
     &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Russia,
     &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Prussia,
     &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;France,
     &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;England, and
     &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;The Netherlands.

     A Grandee of the Highest Class.
     A Captain General of Spain.

     Knights of the Orders of
     The Garter, in England.&mdash;St. Andrew, in Russia.&mdash;The Black
     Eagle, in Russia.&mdash;Charles III. in Spain.&mdash;St. Ferdinand and
     Merit, in Spain.&mdash;The Golden Fleece, in Spain.&mdash;Maximilian
     Joseph, in Bavaria.&mdash;St.   Maria Theresa, in Austria.&mdash;The
     Sword,  in Spain.&mdash;St.  Esprit, in France.&mdash;St.  George,  in
     Russia.&mdash;The Tower and Sword, in Portugal.
     And, (to bring up the rear,)
     A Doctor of Civil Laws!

     "Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the host, in extacy, "what a noble
     company!"   He then began to tell them over;&mdash;"One Prince,"
     he continued,&mdash;"Three Dukes&mdash;One Marquis&mdash;A Marshal General
     of France&mdash;An English Governor&mdash;An English Lord Lieutenant&mdash;
     The Master General of the Ordnance, and Two English
     Colonels&mdash;Six Field Marshals&mdash;One Grandee of the Highest
     Class&mdash;A Captain General of Spain&mdash;Twelve Knights, and a
     Doctor of Civil Laws!.'&mdash;<i>Mon Dieu!</i>   Thirty-two Great
     Personages!!"

     All the provisions of the town, all the delicacies of the
     season and all the celebrated wines, were immediately put in
     requisition for the illustrious company in expectancy.

     At last the Duke of Wellington arrived, and was ushered into
     a spacious dining-room, where a cloth was laid with thirty-
     two covers. The person of the Duke was unknown to the
     Innkeeper, who, full of important preparations for the
     Thirty-two Great Personages, thought not of any thing
     else.&mdash;"I ordered dinner here," said his Grace.&mdash;"Mon
     Dieu!" responded the Innkeeper, "are you one of the Thirty-
     two Great Personages?" presenting the list at same time. His
     Grace glanced his eye over it,&mdash;"they are all here!" said
     he, "so send up the dinner immediately." The Inn-keeper
     stood aghast with amazement; at last finding utterance, he
     ventured to express a hope that his Grace would be pleased
     to take into consideration, that he (the Innkeeper,) had, at
     great trouble and expence, provided a most sumptuous
     entertainment for Thirty-two Great Personages.   "D&mdash;&mdash;n
     the Thirty-two Great Personages," exclaimed the Duke, "Send
     up the dinner, and your bill.&mdash;Thus I must pay the penalty,"
     said he, "for not having invited the old veteran to be of
     the party!!"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[125]</span> The Squire observed, that the brilliant
      victories of his Grace, although acknowledged and rewarded by all the
      Potentates of Europe, had not procured him much popularity at home. The
      remark was confessed by Dashall to be correct, but whence the public
      indifference originated, he could not presume to explain.
    </p>
    <p>
      Crossing Hyde Park, which a celebrated physician denominated <i>the lungs
      of the Metropolis</i>, our pedestrians made their egress into Oxford-road.
      This fine street, with longitudinal reference the first in London, excited
      the admiration of the baronet; the long line of perspective indeterminable
      to the view, stretching from Hyde Park corner to St. Giles's, the general
      uniformity of the buildings, the neatness, and in many instances the
      splendor of the tradesmen's shops, together with the comfortable manner of
      their perambulation, unjostled and unimpeded by the hurry, throng and
      bustle of passengers, with which <span class="pagenum">[126]</span> many
      other parts of the Town are annoyed, gave an additional zest of enjoyment
      to the trio in their excursion, while the Squire observed, that he felt in
      this part of the Town, always as if he had been suddenly removed to some
      other region of the world, far remote from the city of London, its
      dissonant uproar, and crowded inconveniences.
    </p>
    <p>
      Turning into Blenheim street, Dashall apprized his companions, that if
      they felt inclined to take a peep into the Theatre of Anatomy, he could
      procure their admission.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Squire seemed to recoil from so disgusting an exhibition; while on the
      other hand the baronet expressed a great desire to enter the theatre. "I
      have been used to murder and mutilation!" said he.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The devil you have!" ejaculated the Squire, "where, how?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Where else should it be but in Ireland?" replied the baronet:&mdash;"and
      as to the how, was it not, sure, after the manner of my profession, while
      I was a member of a Corps of Yeoman Cavalry, during the rebellion, when we
      whipped, hanged, beheaded, and mutilated men, every day, by dozens! So you
      may guess, my good <span class="pagenum">[127]</span>friend, that cutting
      up a human carcase is nothing new to me. Only now, I should like to see if
      there is any difference in the mangling of human bodies by the anatomical
      artists of London from the ci-devant military professors, "The Loyal Troop
      of Doneraile."
    </p>
    <p>
      The hesitation manifested by the Squire yielded, ultimately, to the
      importunity of the baronet, and they entered the human shambles, where the
      cutters up were at work upon a subject, securing to themselves the
      advantage of personal experience, in the process of dissection; the
      abdomen had been already cleared out, and the corpse was portioned out to
      the different students of anatomy for the purpose of illustration; the
      arms to one class, the legs to another, the head to a third, &amp;c. so
      that in less than a quarter of an hour, decapitation and dismemberment
      were completely effected; and the trunk was deserted, as an uninteresting
      object, from which there could not be derived any information of
      importance, further than that which the students had already obtained!!!
    </p>
    <p>
      Sir Felix whispered his friends, that these adepts in human mutilation far
      exceeded in apathy of feeling and adroitness of execution, even the
      ci-devant Loyal Troop of Doneraile!&mdash;But when one of the young
      artists brought forward in his hands smeared with gore, a human heart for
      the operation of the dissecting knife, Tallyho declaring that he could
      bear it no longer, rushed out of the theatre, and was followed by his two
      companions, all disgusted with this spoliation of the dead, however
      conducive it might prove to the interests of the living.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The human subjects for these Theatres of Anatomy and
     private dissection, are chiefly supplied by
     "Resurrectionists;" a class of depraved wretches whose only
     employment is that of body-snatching, or robbing the graves
     of their dead; from which they derive a ready and lucrative
     emolument. The anatomists are ready at all hours to receive,
     without questions asked, and with prompt remuneration, the
     produce of these unsanctified depredations.&mdash;Dreadful must
     be the feelings of the fond relatives of a departed friend,
     to learn that the sanctuary of the grave has been violated,
     and the body of perhaps a beloved wife, sister, or other
     revered female, exposed to the gaze, and subjected to the
     scalping-knife, of these butchers.

     Iron Coffins have been resorted to as a safe-guard, which
     once closed cannot be opened. For this improvement the
     artist obtained a patent; but he is not likely to derive
     much advantage from his invention, as the parish officers
     within the bills of mortality have generally refused the
     rites of sepulture to bodies cased in iron; alleging, that
     the almost imperishable material would shortly compel an
     enlargement of burying ground, at a vast expence, which it
     is the duty of the parish officers to prevent, by resisting
     the interment of bodies in iron coffins; and this resolution
     has lately had the sanction of legal authority.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[128]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      Proceeding along Oxford Street, Sir Felix enquired for the <i>Holy Land</i>,
      informing his friends, at same time, that his servant, whom he had
      entrusted the preceding day with a cheque on his banker, had not been at
      home all night, and the probability was, that he had got amongst his
      Munster friends in Palestine. Sir Felix was therefore desirous of
      ascertaining, if possible, the sanctuary of the fugitive; and with that
      view requested his friends to accompany him in a perambulation of
      discovery, through (to him) these hitherto unexplored regions.&mdash;This
      application was readily assented to, and the triumvirate passed onwards to
      the place of destination.
    </p>
    <p>
      They had now reached the Church of St. Giles in the Fields, situated in
      Broad Street, St. Giles's; and their attention was immediately directed to
      that fine piece of sculpture over the iron gateway, leading into the
      Church-yard, representing the Resurrection and Last Judgment. The figures
      are in <i>basso relievo</i>, and although diminutive, are admirably
      grouped, and the expression of each gives to the whole a finished and
      impressive effect.
    </p>
    <p>
      Two minutes more, and the three friends were on the boundaries of the Holy
      Land, namely, George Street, or, as formerly cognomened, Dyott Street,
      Bloomsbury.
    </p>
    <p>
      At the end of this street, next to St. Giles's, were several of the Lower
      Irish, of both gender, who, clustering together, seemed to hold a close
      confabulation, casting occasionally, an inquisitive eye on Sir Felix
      O'Grady.
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the soul of the priest!" at last exclaimed one of the Munster
      emigrees, "but it is him, and I would take my davy on it;&mdash;but sure
      enough, I will ax the jontleman himself now, whether he knows who he is,
      or if he is any body at all, at all!"
    </p>
    <p>
      This real representative of the tag-rag and bob-tail of the Emerald Isle,
      was arrayed in the appropriate costume of his class and country. A
      nameless something that had once been a hat, covered a shock head of hair;
      the redundancy of which protuberated sideways and perpendicularly, <span
      class="pagenum">[129]</span>from the ci-devant castor, in many a knotty
      combination, impervious to wind and weather. The fragments of a loose
      great coat decorated his tall athletic form, which scarcely reaching his
      knees, exposed fully to observation his nether habiliment,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "His galligaskins, that had long withstood
          The winter's fury and encroaching frost
          By Time subdued,&mdash;what will not Time subdue,
          Now horrid rents disclosed, portending agues."
</pre>
    <p>
      His brawny legs were partially cased in worsted hose, the dilapidations of
      wear and tear ingeniously repaired with cloth, pieced and patched, and
      comprising all the prismatic colours of the rainbow; his toes, disdaining
      the trammels of duress, peeped through his brogues, as if anxious for
      freedom; and to complete the singularity of this strange figure, his
      vacant face was incrusted with filth, his bristly beard unshorn,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
         And stuck in his mouth of capacious dimensions,
         That never to similar shape had pretensions,
         A pipe he sustain'd, short and jetty of hue,
         Thro' which the dense clouds of tobacco he drew.
</pre>
    <p>
      This apparition stalking onwards to our admiring triumvirate,&mdash;"May
      be," said he, "your honor can be after telling me,&mdash;will your honor
      be Sir Felix O'Grady of Munster, that is, long life to it?"&mdash;"The
      same, by the powers of my father who begot me!" exclaimed the baronet:
      "sure enough I am Sir Felix O'Grady that is, not that will be!" "Erin ma
      vorneen!" rejoined the enquirer,&mdash;"the pot of Saint Patrick be upon
      you, and may your honor live all the days of your life, and many years
      longer, if that's all!&mdash;Arrah, but I'm plased to my heart's content
      to meet wid your honor in a strange land!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The congregated expectants now approached, and respectfully united their
      congratulations with those of their respectable deputy.&mdash;"The pot of
      Saint Patrick be upon you, and may your reverence live for ever and a day
      afterwards!" It was in vain that Sir Felix offered them money. "No, the
      devil a drap would they taste, unless it was wid his honor's own self, by
      the holy poker!"
    </p>
    <p>
      There was no remedy; so Sir Felix, with his friends Dash all and Tallyho,
      who were much amused by this <span class="pagenum">[130]</span>unsophisticated
      manifestation of Irish recognition, accompanied the motley groupe to the
      blue-ruin shop.{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link3image-0004" id="link3image-0004">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page130.jpg" alt="Page130 Blue Ruin Shop " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      Entering then, the neighbouring den, of a licensed retailer of
      destruction, the first object on whom the scrutinizing eye of the baronet
      cast a glance, was his servant, regaling himself and his blowen with a
      glass of the "right sort." The indignant Sir Felix raised his cane, and
      was about to inflict a well-merited chastisement, when the transgressor,
      deprecating the wrath of his master, produced the full amount of the
      cheque in mitigation of punishment, expressing his obligations to mother
      Cummings for the preservation of the property.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And who, in the devil's name," asked the baronet, "is mother
      Cummings?"{2}
    </p>
    <p>
      "Och! a good sowl," said the valet, "for all that, she keeps convanient
      lodgings. And so your honor, just having got a drap too much of the cratur
      last night, this girl and I took up our lodgings at mother Cummings's:
      good luck to her any how! And if your honor will but forgive me this once,
      I will, as in duty bound, serve you faithfully by night and by day, in any
      or in no way at all at all, and never will be guilty of the like again as
      long as I live, gra."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Blue-ruin, alias English Gin.&mdash;Not unaptly is this
     pernicious beverage so denominated. It is lamentable to
     observe the avidity with which the lower orders of society
     in London resort to this fiery liquid, destructive alike of
     health and morals. The consumption of gin in the metropolis
     is three-fold in proportion to what it was a few years ago.
     Every public-house is now converted into "Wine Vaults," as
     they are termed, which the venders of poison and their
     account in; it is true, that the occupants are compelled to
     sell beer also, but in many of these receptacles, there is
     not even sitting room, and "something short," is thus the
     resource of men, women, and even children!

     2 This discreet matron has realized a very daccnt
     competency, by keeping, in the Holy Land, a house of
     accommodation for <i>single, men and their wives</i>.&mdash;When a
     couple of this description require the asylum of her
     hospitable roof, she demands possession of all the money
     which the male visitor may have about him. This conceded, it
     is told over, and carefully sealed up in the presence of its
     owner, and left for the night in charge of the prudent
     landlady. The party is then shewn into a room, and in the
     morning the money is forth-coming to its utmost farthing.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[131]</span> Circumstances considered, and as this
      had been his first offence, the servant, at the intercession of Dashall,
      was let off with a reprimand only, and ordered home, a mandate which he
      instantly and with many expressions of gratitude obeyed.
    </p>
    <p>
      The baronet having adjusted this business to his satisfaction, directed
      his attention to his newly acquired Munster friends, whom he not only
      treated with a liberal potation of aqua vitæ, but in the warmth of his
      kindly feelings, actually drank with them, a condescension infinitely more
      acceptable to the generous nature of these poor-people, than was the more
      solid proof which he left them of his munificence; and of which, until
      absolutely forced upon them, they long and pertinaciously resisted the
      acceptance.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our party pursuing their route, entered Holborn, and ordered refreshment
      at the George and Blue Boar Coffee-House; a place of excellent
      accommodation, and convenient for persons coming from the West of England.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here, while our perambulators amused themselves in conversation on the
      occurrences of the morning, a chaise and four drove rapidly into the yard,
      the postillions decorated with white ribbons, "denoting," said Dashall,
      "the successful denouement, perhaps, of a trip to Gretna Green." His
      conjecture was correct; the happy pair just arrived, had been rivetted in
      the ties of matrimony by the far-famed blacksmith of Gretna.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 In tracing the pursuits of needy and profligate
     adventurers, with whom this vast metropolis abounds beyond
     that of any other capital in the world, wife-hunting is not
     the least predominant. This remark we cannot better
     illustrate than by introducing to the notice of our readers,
     the following extraordinary detail, exhibiting in High Life,
     atrocious premeditated villainy, and in the mediocrity of
     female rank extreme and fatal cupidity.

     An anecdote has come to our knowledge within the last few
     days which we think calls for publicity, as it may tend to
     place on their guard those tender-hearted spinsters whose
     sensibility of feeling may induce them for a moment to
     forget that prudence which is at all times the best
     safeguard of their sex. The circumstances which we shall
     describe are considered quite unique among certain orders of
     the sporting world; and the Hero of the Tale, from the
     dashing completion of his plan, has obtained no small
     importance in the eyes of his associates.

     To our purpose;&mdash;About a fortnight back, a person, we will
     not call him a gentleman, the first letter of whose name is
     not far re-moved from the last letter of the alphabet, and
     who has been particularly distinguished for the dashing,
     although not very meritorious affairs in which he has been
     engaged, both on the turf and the road, as well as in the
     stable, found himself (to use one of his own fashionable
     phrases,) "hard up." In plain terms, his Exchequer was
     completely exhausted, and what was worse, his credit was
     altogether "out at the elbows." All ordinary, and, indeed,
     almost all extraordinary modes of "raising the wind," had
     long since been worn threadbare. Something, however, must be
     done; and to be "well done," it must be "done quickly." A
     happy thought struck him. He had heard of a lady, some few
     years beyond her "teens," who was possessed of a pretty
     round sum; he could not ascertain exactly how much, in her
     own right. This was a prize which he thought it would be
     most desirable to obtain. It was true, the lady was past
     that age when passion is not at all times to be con-trolled;
     but then certainly not so far advanced as to have abandoned
     all hope of obtaining an agreeable husband, or not to be
     perfectly convinced that her attractions entitled her to
     entertain such an expectation. The only difficulty which
     suggested itself, was the mode of introduction. Two heads
     are better than one, and our hero called in a friend, to
     whom he unfolded his scheme, and whose advice and assistance
     he immediately bespoke. The friend had no scruples on the
     subject, and at once became a partner in the plot. Means
     were found to overcome the first impediment, and behold our
     two gentlemen in the presence of the fair object of their
     attack.   The principal was immediately introduced as the
     son of Sir George &mdash;&mdash;, a highly respectable Baronet of the
     same name, but of a very different character. His manners
     were chastened for the occasion, his appearance fashionable,
     and his address distinguished by a warmth which the
     acknowledged purpose of his visit, that of soliciting the
     honor of being permitted to pay his addresses, in some
     measure justified. The lady was not displeased: to all
     appearance the connexion, which was thus offered to her was
     most nattering; the son of a baronet, and one especially who
     had expressed himself in a most disinterested manner, was
     not to be dismissed without due deliberation; she,
     therefore, with becoming frankness, consented to grant
     another interview on the ensuing day. The friends were
     punctual to the time appointed, and came in the carriage
     (<i>pro tempore</i>) of the suitor. They were shown into the
     drawing-room, and the conversation was mutually pleasing. At
     length our hero proposed to the lady to take a short airing
     in his carriage. At first she exhibited the usual coyness at
     such an invitation from one, to whom she was almost a
     stranger; but was ultimately bantered into a consent, and
     accordingly dressed for a ride. Having taken her seat
     between the two gentlemen, they engaged her on such topics
     as they thought most amusing, and the time passed so
     agreeably that she scarce knew where she was going, till she
     had arrived at Barnet, on the north road. They stopped at
     one of the principal inns, and alighting, a slight cold
     repast was ordered. The convenient friend shortly after
     quitted the apartment to look to the horses, and the <i>soi-
     disant</i> son of the Baronet instantly commenced an
     assault upon the lady's heart, which it would seem, was but
     too well received. He protested that he had long sighed at a
     distance, without having the courage to confess his flame;
     and, in short, that he could not exist unless she became
     his. The lady, whatever might be the feelings of her heart,
     laughed at the warmth of his declarations. This only induced
     him to become more impetuous; and at last, as a proof of his
     sincerity, he proposed, as they were so far on the north
     road, that they should order four horses, and set off at
     once to Gretna Green. This produced additional merri-ment on
     the part of the lady, which, as there was no specific
     refusal, was taken for consent; and on the return of the
     friend, he received a wink, which instructed him in the
     course he was to pursue, and in a moment, four horses were
     clapped to the travelling chariot in which they had arrived.
     The lady was shortly afterwards handed to her seat, and,
     accompanied as before, was whirled off with the utmost
     velocity. She had gone thirty miles of the road, however,
     before she believed that her lover was really serious. On
     alighting at the end of the third stage, reflection came to
     her aid, and she began to repent of having suffered herself
     to be prevailed on to consent so far to what she still
     pretended to believe was but a joke. On our hero quitting
     the coom, she represented to his friend the utter
     impossibility of proceeding further, and entreated that he
     would take means to have her re-conducted to town. The
     friend, however, who was too much interested in the success
     of a plot so well commenced, endeavoured to dissuade her, by
     every argument of which he was master, to go on; but she
     positively refused; when, as the last resource, he
     determined to work on her fears, and accordingly told her,
     that Mr.&mdash;&mdash; had long spoken of her, in terms of impatient
     rapture; that he was a man, unhappily, of a most passionate
     temper, and that he had vowed, sooner than he would go back
     to London without making her his wife, he would blow out his
     brains, for which purpose he was provided with a brace of
     pistols, then in his pocket, and double loaded. To this was
     added the still more persuasive observation, that he was a
     gentleman of family and fortune and figure, to whom no
     rational objection could be taken by any woman whose heart
     had not been previously engaged. The result was, that the
     unfortunate woman, half consenting, half relenting, agreed
     to go forward, and on they drove till they arrived full
     speed at Gretna Bridge, in Yorkshire. Here a new difficulty
     arose; our hero had exhausted his purse, and had not a
     shilling left to enable him to complete his journey; his
     good genius, however, had not deserted him, and, with that
     effrontery for which he is distinguished, he called the
     landlord into a private room, told him he was on his way to
     Gretna Green with an heiress, again described himself to be
     the son of a baronet, and finally requested him to give cash
     for a cheque which he proposed drawing on a respectable
     banking-house in town, (where, by the bye, he happened to
     have no account.) The cause he assigned for his distress was
     the suddenness of his flight from town.    His appeal
     proved successful, and he was furnished with the means of
     completing his journey. Again the trio resumed their course,
     and in the end reached the quarters of the celebrated
     Blacksmith, who was immediately summoned to their presence.
     Here another impediment threw them into fresh alarm; the
     Blacksmith seeing the style in which they had arrived, and
     judging from that circumstance that they were persons of no
     mean consequence, refused to rivet their chains under a
     douceur of One hundred pounds. This sum it was impossible,
     at so short a notice, they could raise; and their hopes
     would have been altogether frustrated, had not the eloquence
     of our hero once more proved successful. He explained to the
     venerable priest that their finances were but slender; and
     having assured him of that fact, he induced him to accept of
     Five pounds down, and a note of hand for Fifty pounds more.
     The  Gordian knot was  then tied, and Mr. and Mrs.&mdash;&mdash;
     having received the congratulations of their friend, who
     witnessed the ceremony, returned to Gretna Bridge; where
     they agreed to wait a few days, until a remittance for which
     the lady, under some plausible excuse, was induced to draw,
     had arrived. The necessary sum at length reached their
     hands; the bill was dis-charged; the cheque upon which the
     cash had been previously advanced, redeemed; and the party
     pursued their journey back to the metropolis.

     On reaching London, the marriage ceremony was repeated in a
     more formal manner, and thus all question of the validity of
     the union was set at rest. Our hero had now to render
     available the funds of his Lady; and in a morning <i>tete-a-
     tete</i> requested some information as to the state of her
     fortune? It was a subject, he said, of no great importance
     in his estimation, but still he wished to know what she had?
     The Lady candidly told him that all she had under her own
     control, was £1,100 in the 5 per Cents, and a bond of her
     brother's for £2,500 payable on demand. On the very same
     day, the disinterested husband was found soliciting several
     brokers in the city, to sell out the stock which his wife
     had described, but they all declined, unless the lady were
     present. This was an objection easily got over; he returned
     to his wife, and having assigned some feasible reason for an
     immediate want of ready cash, induced her to accompany him
     to the market, where the value of the stock was soon
     transferred into his pocket.

     The friends of the lady had by this time been apprised of
     her marriage, and naturally felt anxious to ascertain the
     character of the connexion which she had formed. She, of
     course, repeated the story told her by her "Lord and
     Master;" but inquiry having been made as to its truth, it
     was found to be fictitious in all its main features. Her
     husband, although of the same name, was not the son of Sir
     George, nor was he at all connected with that family; and in
     addition to this, it was ascertained that he was, as we have
     already described him to be, a gentleman "much better known
     than trusted." It is needless to say that the feelings of
     the lady were greatly agitated at these discoveries, and she
     did not hesitate to upbraid her husband with his deceitful
     conduct.    His sensibility, however, was not to be excited
     on such an occasion; he coolly told her he knew all she
     could say on that subject without putting her to any further
     trouble; and, in  fine, confirmed all that she had heard to
     his prejudice.    She had taken him "for better for worse,"
     and she must make the best of a bad bargain.   The brother
     of the lady now interfered; he had an interview with her
     husband, and could not suppress the indignation which he
     felt in his presence. Our hero had too long been accustomed
     to the reverses of the sporting world to be easily ruffled;
     he preserved his temper with admirable presence of mind, and
     having heard the enraged brother to a conclusion, at last
     very coolly replied, that "all he had said might be very
     true, but that did not alter the fact that his sister was
     his lawful wife; and further, that, as her husband, he held
     a bond of his (the brother's) for £'2,500, payable on
     demand, and of which he requested immediate payment as he
     was short of "the ready."    The  cold-blooded gravity with
     which this  demand was made, incensed the brother still
     more, and he gave vent to the feelings which were excited in
     his breast.    Our hero was  in no respect thrown off his
     guard, and at last, after having heard that the brother, as
     well as the lady, whose eyes were now open to his real
     character,  would be glad to get rid of him on any terms; he
     proposed to "do the thing," what he called "handsomely," and
     with very little qualification suggested, that in order to
     settle the business "amicably," he had no objection to give
     up his wife and her brother's bond for £1,000 in addition to
     the £1,000 he had already received.    Unprincipled as this
     offer was, the brother, upon reflection, felt that he was
     "in the jaws of the lion," and therefore, after consultation
     with his sister, who was but too happy in escaping from such
     a companion, he agreed to the terms proposed.    The £1,000
     was paid, the bond returned, and a separation mutually
     agreed upon without further delay, to the infinite
     satisfaction of our hero, who tells the adventure among his
     friends with extra-ordinary glee, taking no small credit to
     himself for its happy issue. We have suppressed the names of
     the parties, for obvious reasons; there are those by whom
     they will be immediately recognised.    We wish, however,
     not to give unnecessary pain to the individuals really
     injured; and have only to hope the facts we have detailed
     may operate as a sufficient caution to others who may be
     placed in similar situations in future.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[135]</span> Sir Felix O'Grady was all a-gog to
      learn from the postillions the names of the party, but nothing
      satisfactory could be elicited.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our trio now directed their progress along Holborn, in which route they
      had advanced but a few minutes when their attention was arrested by a
      concourse of people assembled at the door of a Linen-draper, who it seems
      had detected a thief in the person of a pregnant woman. This information
      excited the sympathy of our three friends, and they accordingly entered
      the Shop. Tallyho entreated of the Linen-draper, that he would be merciful
      to the unfortunate woman, in consideration of her being so far in a family
      way.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And yet, sir," answered the Shopkeeper, "I fancy we shall be able to
      relieve the lady without the assistance of a midwife." The woman was then
      taken into a back room and searched by two of her own sex. The result
      <span class="pagenum">[136]</span>of this investigation was soon made
      known.&mdash;The pregnancy was assumed, the better to evade suspicion; her
      under garments were completely lined with hooks, to which were suspended,
      in vast variety, articles of stolen property, including not only those of
      light weight, viz. handkerchiefs, shawls, stockings, &amp;c. but several
      of less portable description, amongst which were two pieces of Irish
      linen. These articles she had conveyed through an aperture in her upper
      habiliment of sufficient dimensions to admit an easy access to the general
      repository. The ingenuity of this invention created much surprise, and as
      it greatly facilitated concealment and evaded detection, there is no doubt
      of its having frequently produced a rich harvest. This female adept was
      now committed to the charge of an officer, the Shopkeeper having
      identified upon her person several articles of stolen property.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0009" id="link32HCH0009">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER IX
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Ladies,&mdash;the chariot waits;&mdash;the toilet now
          Where erst so many hours were idly spent,
          Asks of its wonted due the tythe alone;&mdash;
          Braid then your tresses of luxuriant now,
          And wrap your forms angelic in the dress
          Simple, yet rich and elegant, that gives
          Your matchless beauties half revealed to view;
          The broad capacious bosom's luscious swell,
          Still heaving strong, and suing to be prest;&mdash;
          Grace then the vehicle.&mdash;We, observers
          Of Real Life, the while, in London go
          To "catch the living manners as they rise,
          "And give the age its very form and pressure."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[137]</span> CONTINUING their route down Holborn,
      the adventure in the Linen-draper's shop became the theme of conversation.&mdash;"It
      is not alone," said Dashall, "to the lower orders and necessitous that
      this system of Shop-lifting is confined; many recent instances have
      occurred of similar depredation, by women above the mediocrity of rank,
      who, however, frequently contrive to compromise prosecution, while the
      delinquent of poverty is visited by the utmost rigor of the law!&mdash;Of
      the two, certainly the thief from habit is more culpable than the thief
      from necessity."
    </p>
    <p>
      Sir Felix and the Squire entirely agreed with their friend in opinion.&mdash;"Shop-lifters,"
      continued Dashall, "are as pernicious to the trading part of the community
      as any of the cheats of London; there is not, on a moderate calculation,
      less than 5000 of these artful thieves in the metropolis, and the
      prejudice they do to the industrious tradesman is incalculable."
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the powers of safety, then," exclaimed the baronet "the honest dealer
      should consider every stranger a thief until further acquaintance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not exactly so; however, it is necessary that the London tradesman should
      be upon his guard, and keep <span class="pagenum">[138]</span> a sharp
      look out upon his customers, not knowing, by their appearance, whether
      they are honest or otherwise."{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      Turning from Holborn into Chancery Lane, our pedestrians were encountered
      by a very handsome chariot, in which were two elegantly dressed and
      beautiful women, who, ordering the carriage to stop, saluted Dashall and
      the Squire in the most fascinating terms of friendly recognition.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your Ladyships render me," said Dashall, "infinite happiness; this is a
      most unexpected pleasure!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are a gallant cavalier," observed one of the lovely inmates, "another
      gentleman would probably have used the word honor instead of happiness,
      but you are fertile in felicitous expression."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not more felicitous than appropriate; but whither away, my fair
      captivators?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "We are on a shopping expedition," replied one of the ladies, "you and
      your friend of Belville-hall, are observers of Life in London generally;&mdash;ours
      is a mere circumscribed sphere of action; we go to view Life in a Mercer's
      shop.&mdash;When the Squire and you are not more pleasantly engaged, give
      us a call, and perhaps we may grant you the honor of an interview.&mdash;We
      would ask the Unknown," said she, in a whisper, "who is he?"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 A thief from habit.&mdash;Not long since, there existed in
     the fashionable world, a female of rank and property, who
     was an habitual, expert, and incorrigible thief.&mdash;She would
     frequently sally forth in her carriage, and alighting at the
     doors of perhaps, half a dozen different tradesmen, rummage
     over their goods, without mak-ing a purchase, and embrace
     the opportunity of purloining any portable article that lay
     in her way. Those tradesmen to whom her thieving
     propensities were known, used to watch, carefully, her
     manoeuvres, let her walk off with the spoil, and then send a
     bill of depredation, which she uniformly, and without
     hesitation, dis-charged. This unfortunate woman was one
     morning detected in the shop of a Mercer to whom she was a
     stranger, in the act of pilfering some article of value. He
     was about to detain her, when she burst into an agony of
     tears, acknowledged, and lamented deeply, the irresistible
     infatuation under which she acted, disclosed her rank and
     family, and the compassionate mercer suffered her to depart.

     At another time, being one of a card-party, a gold snuff-box
     vanished from the table. Every person present denied any
     knowledge of it;&mdash;"Madam, you are mistaken," said one of the
     company, "you have got the snuff-box in your pocket."&mdash;"How
     very <i>absent</i> I am!"exclaimed our heroine, producing the
     box.&mdash;"And I beg that you will continue absent!" said the
     lady of the mansion.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[139]</span> "Sir Felix O'Grady, Madam," answered
      Dashall, "an Irish baronet, of recent acquaintance; like every other
      gentleman of the Emerald Isle, combining, with characteristic
      eccentricity, a sound head and a warm heart."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then, of all things, bring him with you." "So," waving gracefully her
      hand, "adieu!" the trio responded, by respectfully raising their hats, "<i>Allons
      donc</i>," she exclaimed, and the carriage drove off.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There go," exclaimed Dashall, "two of the most lovely and accomplished
      women in London, and perhaps the least tinctured with fashionable folly."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With the exception," observed the Squire, "of shopping, that is, I
      presume, making the morning tour of tradesmen's shops, tumbling over their
      goods, giving them every possible trouble, and ultimately making no
      purchase."{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall admitted the correctness of the Squire's observation, as generally
      applicable, but claimed an exemption for the ladies in question.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the left, proceeding down Chancery Lane, Dashall pointed to a
      respectable house as the occasional residence of a lady in the first class
      of literature, whose writings have given universal satisfaction, and will
      continue to be read with increased avidity, as conveying the most
      admirable lessons of morality, told in a manner alike impressive and
      pathetic;&mdash;Mrs. Op*e; the widow of the late celebrated artist. This
      excellent woman is endeared to the circle of her numerous acquaintance by
      a pre-eminent
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Tallyho had improved in his knowledge of Real Life in
     London.&mdash;His definition of Shopping was perfectly correct.

     One of those fashionable female idlers, who delight in
     occupying the time, and exercising the patience of the
     industrious, alighted, a short time since, at the shop of a
     tradesman in Ludgate-street, and after a couple of hours
     spent in examining and re-examining a variety of rich silks,
     made her election at last, and desired the mercer to cut her
     off a shilling's worth, throwing, at the same time, the
     money on the counter. The tradesman, with perfect coolness,
     took up the piece of coin, laid it on a corner of the silk,
     circum-scribed it with his scissors, and presented the part
     so cut out to the lady, as the shilling's worth required. We
     feel pleasure in recording the result. The lady admired the
     mercer's equanimity of temper, laughed heartily at his
     manner of illustrating it, and in atonement for trouble
     given and patience exemplified, became, and still continues,
     one of his most valued customers.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[140]</span> suavity of disposition, blended with
      superior mental endowments; to the unfortunate by her benevolent heart, to
      which the appeal of distress is never made in vain; and to the public
      generally, by her invaluable works, the uniform tendency of which is the
      advancement of virtue and the inculcation of the benign feelings of
      humanity.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 To the admirers of Mrs. Op*e, the following lines, never
     before published, will not prove unacceptable.

          TRIBUTE OF RESPECT.
          O Thou of matchless power to raise
          And bend the Passions to thy sway I&mdash;
          Whose pen with magic force portrays,
          Whose spell the shadowy forms obey.
          Of Joy and Grief, of Hope and Fear,
          And wiles from Apathy a tear,&mdash;
          Enchantress! take the duteous lays
          To Worth that Admiration pays.

          To thee, as to thy Op*e, given
          On Immortality a claim;
          His virtues pass'd from Earth to Heaven,
          Yet still exist in deathless fame;&mdash;
          His pencil to thy pen assign'd
          To charm, instruct, and grace mankind!&mdash;
          And Oh! could but my humble strains
          To thy impressive skill aspire,
          The Muse that faintly now sustains
          Thy worth, would make poetic fire,
          And glowing high, with fervid name,
          Would graft her honors on thy name.&mdash;

          But ah!  bereft of every stay,
          From Hope exil'd, with Woe I keep
          My vigils, each sad sorrowing day,
          And wake, each dreary night, to weep!&mdash;
          By Penury chill'd poetic powers,
          No voice to soothe, no hand to save,
          And snatch a victim from the grave,&mdash;
          Around me Desolation lours,
          And glaring, midst the deep'ning gloom,
          Despair and Famine urge me to the tomb!

          If, all unmeet, my humble strain
          Is destin'd still to flow in vain;&mdash;
          Shouldst thou the tribute now refuse
          Essayed by Misery and the Muse;
          Reject not yet the lay with scorn,
          To thee by kindred feelings borne;&mdash;
          For still thy tales of plaintive tone
          Breathe pain and sufferings, like mine own.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[141]</span> Facing the entrance to the Royal Wax
      Works, Sir Felix made a full stop;&mdash;"That fellow," said he, alluding
      to the whole length figure of the Centinel, "stands as motionless as a
      statue; by the powers, but half-a-dozen peep-o-day boys in his rear would
      be after putting life and mettle in his heels!&mdash;Shoulder and carry
      your arms, you spalpeen; and is this the way that you show the position of
      a soldier?" at same time enforcing his admonition with a smart stroke of
      his cane over the arm of the inanimated military representative. The
      attendant, a young man in the costume of the Yeomen of the Guards,
      remonstrated; Dashall and Tallyho laughed most immoderately; and the
      baronet, equally enjoying the joke, persisted in affecting to believe,
      that he was addressing himself to a living object, greatly to the
      amusement of the now congregating street passengers.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Begging your pardon, ray jewel," continued Sir Felix, "long life and good
      luck to you, in your stationary quarters, and may His Majesty never find a
      more active enemy than yourself!&mdash;By the soul of my grandmother, it
      would be well for poor Ireland, who has taken leave of her senses, if her
      bog-trotting marauders were as peaceably inclined as you are.&mdash;Fait
      and troth, but you're a fine looking lad after all, and with the
      assistance of your master, and a touch of Prometheus, we might raise a
      regiment of braver fellows than the King's Guards, without bounty or beat
      of drum, in the twinkling of an eye, honey; but with your leave, and
      saving yourself unnecessary trouble, we'll be after paying a visit to the
      company above stairs; "and the party proceeded to the exhibition room.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Here were representatives of the living and mementos of the dead! Kings
      and Queens, Princes and Princesses,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Ah! cease the sad resemblance here!&mdash;
          Thee, then, to every feeling dear
          Of tender sympathy,&mdash;thy way
          Illumin'd to life's remotest day.
          In bliss, in worth, in talent shine,
          Though pain, and want unsuccour'd, mine!
          Adorning this terrestrial sphere,
          Be long an Op*e's talents given;
          And Virtue consecrate the tear
          When call'd to join her native Heaven!

          A. K.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[142]</span> warriors, statesmen, poets, and
      philosophers, in social communion: not forgetting the lady who had three
      hundred and sixty-five children at a birth!!{1}
    </p>
    <p>
      The baronet made many congees to the great and inferior personages by whom
      he was surrounded, admired the heterogeneity of the group, and regretted
      that their imperfect creation precluded the possibility of converse.
    </p>
    <p>
      One of the figures, by an unobserved excitement of the attendant, now
      inclined its head to Sir Felix, who, nothing daunted, immediately assumed
      the attitude of Macbeth in the banquet scene, and exclaimed,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay, if thou canst nod, speak too! if our graves And charnel houses give
      those we bury back, Our monuments shall be the maws of kites."
    </p>
    <p>
      The company present pronounced the baronet a player, and a lady, to whom
      the manly and athletic form of the supposed tragedian had given apparent
      pleasure, assured him she had never heard the passage more impressively
      delivered, and that certainly, in the character of the Scottish Usurper,
      there was no doubt of his becoming to Mr. Kran a very formidable rival!
    </p>
    <p>
      Sir Felix sustained his part admirably, expressing his high acknowledgment
      of the lady's favorable opinion; but the enquiry when and in which
      theatre, he meant to make his first appearance, had so nearly deranged his
      gravity and that of his two friends, as to induce them to hasten their
      retreat.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall and Tallyho congratulated the baronet on his promising dramatic
      talent, and advised him still further to court the favors of the tragic
      Muse.
    </p>
    <p>
      "May the devil burn the tragic Muse!" he exclaimed;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Thus runs the legend.&mdash;

     A lady in former times, who, it seems, like some of our
     modern visionaries, was an enemy to superabundant
     population, and would have restricted the procreation of
     children to those only who could maintain them; was applied
     to for alms by a poor woman, with no less than five little
     famishing urchins in her train. The haughty dame not only
     refused to relieve the unfortunate mendicant, but poured
     upon her a torrent of abuse, adding that she had no right to
     put herself in the way of having children whom she could not
     support.&mdash;The woman dropped on her knees, and prayed "that
     the lady might have as many children at one birth as there
     were days in the year!" and so, (as the legend runs,) it
     actually happened!
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[143]</span> "Arrah, give me the favors of that
      sweet pretty crature, the comical Muse at the Wax-works, who took me for a
      player,&mdash;Och! the fascination of her smile and the witchery of her
      eye before all the Muses that ever fuddled the brain of a garreteer!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why baronet," said the Squire, "you are love-struck,&mdash;deeply
      lurched,&mdash;taken in by the knowing one!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Taken in, that is as it may hereafter happen, but an Irishman, my jewel,
      is never so desperately in love with one girl but he can spare a bit of
      affection for another.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Sure love is the soul of a nate Irishman,
          He loves all that's lovely, loves all that he can
          With his sprig of shilleleagh and shamrock so green."&mdash;
</pre>
    <p>
      The three friends had now rounded the corner at the bottom of
      Fleet-street, in the direction of Blackfriars, when Dashall claimed the
      attention of his associates.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "This is the domicil," said he, "of the patriotic Alderman, who, during so
      many years has uniformly and ably opposed the civic hirelings of
      Corruption, advocated the cause of Freedom, and acquired the well-earned
      meed of high estimation by all the respectable and independent portion of
      his fellow-citizens.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Firm in principle, and resolute in difficulty, the conscientious
      discharge of his duty has ever been his prominent object. But perhaps in
      no instance has he so greatly endeared himself to humanity, than in that
      of the long protracted inquest on the bodies of the two unfortunate men,
      Honey and Francis, the victims of military outrage; his constant
      attendance and indefatigable exertions on that occasion, were the means of
      eliciting many particulars which otherways might not have been known, and
      which ultimately led the Jury to record the atrociousness of the crime by
      the several verdicts of murder and manslaughter.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Again, on the memorable day of the funeral of these two immolated men,
      Mr. W. in his capacity of Sheriff, supported with becoming dignity, his
      high station, and undaunted amidst imminent danger, enforced obedience
      even from the military, and saved the effusion of human blood."
    </p>
    <p>
      London exhibits, daily, a series of depravity perhaps unparalleled in any
      other part of the British Empire.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[144]</span> Dashall had just finished his eulogium
      on the worthy Alderman, in which his friends heartily coincided, when the
      attention of the triumvirate was attracted by the appalling appearance of
      five men rivetted together, and conducted along the street by officers of
      justice. Tallyho enquired into the nature of their crimes, and was
      informed that they were in custody under suspicion of house-breaking in
      the night-time, and that two of them, particularly, had been taken in the
      house which they had plundered, regaling themselves, in perfect ease, with
      cold meat, wine, and liquors, and the stolen property tied up in a bag,
      with which, on the moment of alarm, they attempted an escape, but were
      intercepted in their retreat, and taken in charge by the officers after a
      desperate resistance, in which shots and hurts were received both by the
      victors and the vanquished. It is almost beyond belief, that men engaged
      in an enterprise wherein ignominious death awaits discovery, would sit
      down to regale themselves after having secured their booty, with as much
      composure, as if in their own homes; yet so it is; such is the daring
      callousness of mind attached to long confirmed and successful habits of
      guilt.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Police. Mansion House.&mdash;William Johnson was charged by Mr.
     Miller of Lower Thames Street, on suspicion of having com-
     mitted a robbery on Thursday night, under circumstances of
     rather an extraordinary kind.. Mr. Miller's evidence was to
     the following effect. He has a cut glass and earthenware
     warehouse in Thames Street, but does not reside there. Upon
     visiting his warehouse yesterday morning, he found that
     thieves had been very busy upon the concern the night
     before. They did not get much, but while they were in the
     house they enjoyed themselves. They lighted a fire, and paid
     a visit to the wine-cellar, from which they took two bottles
     of wine and three bottles of perry, which it seemed they
     drank warm with sugar, and Mr. Miller received a very polite
     letter from one of them, acknowledging the obligations they
     were under to him for the excellent beverage his cellar
     afforded. Upon examining other parts of the premises. Mr.
     Miller found that his iron chest had been forced open. The
     instrument (a large chissel) with which this feat was
     performed was lying on the premises, and a dark lanthorn,
     which the thieves had forgotten, was also picked up in the
     course of the search. The petty cash drawers of the iron
     chest lay open empty, but Mr. Miller believed there had been
     in them when he left the Warehouse, a sum perhaps not
     exceeding a couple of pounds. The bills and papers were not
     taken away, neither had any thing been removed that was
     likely to be recovered. Some silver cruet-tops were taken,
     but the cruets were left behind.   The chissel, which,
     though very strong, had been broken in the effort to open
     the chest, was of the largest size. All the rooms of the
     building, except those in front, had been visited by the
     depredators, and there were various circumstances concurring
     to fix a very strong suspicion on the prisoner, besides the
     probability that he was the writer of the letter "of thanks"
     to Mr. Miller for the entertainment afforded. The letter,
     which was written in a good hand, began with the word
     "Gemmen," and stated that they (the writer and his friends)
     had called, regretted that there was no "<i>wassel in the
     lob</i>," (money in the chest) but expressed the highest
     opinion of the wine, begged pardon for disturbing the
     papers, and expressed how happy those who drank the wine
     would be to visit the premises upon a future occasion!   The
     prisoner was remanded.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[145]</span> It sometimes happens that even juvenile
      depredators who have imbibed a propensity for liquor, have been caught in
      the snare thus laid by themselves. Of this fact Dashall gave the following
      very curious illustration.&mdash;"A few evenings ago," said he, "the
      family of my next door neighbour retired to rest, leaving every thing, as
      they imagined, in a state of perfect security. On the servant however,
      coming down stairs in the morning, he was surprised to find a new and
      unexpected inmate, fast asleep in the kitchen, a quantity of plate packed
      up lay by his side, and before him were a bottle of brandy and another of
      wine. He was a lad not more than sixteen years of age, who had ingeniously
      contrived, in the nighttime, to get access to the house, and having
      secured his spoil, had resorted to the pantry and wine-cellar for
      refreshment. Of the stores from the latter receptacle, he had partaken so
      liberally that he was thrown into a deep slumber, from which he was roused
      by the unwelcome voice of the Officer who had been sent for to take him
      into custody."
    </p>
    <p>
      Our perambulators had now passed along the bridge, and advanced a short
      distance on Blackfriar's road, when they observed a spacious travelling
      caravan, stationary by the side of the high way, intimating that there was
      to be seen within, the great northern bear, known by the name of "Autocrat
      of All the Russias," while a fellow with a speaking tube invited in the
      most alluring terms of itinerant oratory, the gaping multitude to walk in,&mdash;"Walk
      in, ladies and gentlemen, and behold this most wonderous of all wonders
      that ever was wondered at in this wonderful world,&mdash;the <i>Ursa major</i>,&mdash;that
      gives its name to one of the constellations, and was taken by a <i>ruse de
      guerre</i> in one of the hitherto undiscovered deserts of the remotest
      Siberia! This stupendous animal was sent from these unknown regions as a
      present to a certain great personage in this country, who having a
      superabundancy of native bears already prowling about him, was pleased to
      order the dismission of this northern stranger, without a pension; and
      thus it came into the possession of its present exhibiter!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[146]</span> This irresistible invitation was
      accepted by several of the auditory, including the baronet, Dashall, and
      the Squire, who were gratified beyond their anticipations, with a sight of
      the great polar bear, the desolate inhabitant of a frigid and dismal
      clime, where Nature has forbid the vegetative, and stinted the growth of
      the animal creation, with the exception of the shaggy wanderer of the
      desert and the floundering leviathan of the ocean. The animal was
      perfectly tractable; and its exhibition well compensated both for time and
      gratuity.
    </p>
    <p>
      The proprietor, however, in answer to an enquiry apart by Dashall,
      acknowledged that his Ursine companion had never been attached to the
      household of any great personage; although a northern quadruped of lesser
      interest was under the protection of one of the Royal Dukes and frequently
      played its mischievous gambols in the environs of Kensington Palace.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The Bear at Kensington Palace. Early on Sunday morn-ing it
     was discovered, that a large black bear, sent as a present
     to His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex, had contrived to
     break out of his cage, which was placed in a coach-house,
     and Bruin, having an inclination to explore these premises,
     containing a hand-some new chariot, mounted the foot-board,
     and began to play with the tassels; he next ascended the
     roof and the box, the covering of which became a prey to his
     claws; after enjoying himself as an outside passenger, as
     long as he thought proper, he proceeded to examine the
     interior of the vehicle, and turning from the box, made his
     entre through the front windows into the carriage, which
     bore serious marks of his savage curiosity. No one dared to
     approach this northern visitor, and in order to prevent
     further depredations in his probable rambles, guards were
     placed, with fixed bayonets, until some keepers arrived from
     a Menagerie, who secured him, after great difficulty, in one
     of their strong cages.
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0010" id="link32HCH0010">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER X
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Oh the dear pleasures of the velvet plain,
          The painted Tablets, deal't and deal't again
          Cards, with what rapture, and the polish'd die
          The yawning chasm of indolence supply.
          Then to the Dance and make the sober moon
          Witness of joys that shun the sight of noon.
          Blame cynic if you can, quadrille or ball,
          The snug close party, or the splendid hall,
          "Where night down stooping from her ebon throne
          Views constellations brighter than her own.
          'Tis innocent and harmless, and refined,
          The balm of care, elysium of the mind."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[147]</span> THE rapid succession of novelty in a
      Life in London where the scenes like those of a Pantomime are constantly
      changing
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     "From grave to gay, from lively to severe,"
</pre>
    <p>
      scarcely required those attentions which the Hon. Tom Dashall continued to
      enjoy on the score of arrangements for the gratification and information
      of his cousin. He was ever watchful of opportunities to furnish new views
      of Real Life and character to Tallyho, and who never failed to profit by
      his observations upon Men and manners: for Tom, notwithstanding the gaiety
      of his disposition, was an acute and discerning companion, who having
      mingled in all ranks and degrees of Society, was able to associate himself
      with the high or the low, as circumstances might require, and to form
      tolerably accurate estimates of those by whom he was surrounded.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was, therefore, with his usual view to the accomplishment of his cousin
      as a votary of Real Life in London, that he had proposed a visit to a
      fancy dress Ball at Almack's, and preparations had accordingly been made
      between them.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A Fancy dress Ball," said Tom, in order to give his cousin an idea of the
      entertainment he was to partake, "bears some similitude to a Masquerade,
      with two important exceptions: first, Masks are not general; and second,
      <span class="pagenum">[148]</span> No practical Jokes are expected or
      admitted. Dress however, is left wholly to the taste or inclination of the
      visitors, and the amusements consist principally of dancing and cards. The
      Rooms are of the most splendid description, and the company generally of
      the first order; combining all that is elegant and fashionable in what is
      termed the higher ranks of society,&mdash;'Tis said
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link3image-0005" id="link3image-0005">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page148.jpg" alt="Page148 Almacks " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "If once to Almacks you belong,
          Like monarchs you can do no wrong.
          But banish'd thence on Wednesday night,
          By Jove you can do nothing right.
          I hear (perhaps the story false is,)
          From Almacks, that he never waltzes
          With Lady Anne or Lady Biddy,
          Twirling till he's in Love, or giddy.
          The girl a pigmy, he a giant,
          His cravat stiff, her corset pliant.
          There, while some jaded couple stops,
          The rest go round like humming tops.
          Each in the circle with its neighbour
          Sharing alternate rest and labour;
          While many a gentle chaperon
          As the fair Dervises spin on,
          Sighs with regret that she was courted,
          Ere this new fashion was imported.
          Ere the dull minuet step had vanished,           .
          With jigs and country scrapers banished.

          But &mdash;&mdash; whose energy relaxes
          No more revolves upon his axis,
          As sounds of cymbal and of drum
          Deep clanging from the orch'tra come,
          And round him moves in radiance bright
          Some beauteous beaming sattelite.
          Nor ventures as the night advances,
          On a new partner in French dances,
          Nor his high destiny fulfilling
          Through all the mazes of quadrilling,
          Holds, lest the figure should be hard
          Close to his nose a printed card,
          Which for their special use invented,
          To beaus on entrance is presented.
          A strange device one must allow,
          But useful as it tells them how
          To foot it in their proper places,
          Much better than their partners faces.

          Mark how the married and the single,
          In yon gay groupes delighted mingle:
          Midst diamonds blazing, tapers beaming,
          Midst Georges, Stars, and Crosses gleaming.
          We gaze on beauty, catch the sound
          Of music, and of mirth around.
          And discord feels her empire ended
          At Almacks&mdash;or at least suspended."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Zounds," said Dashall, "I am happy to see the Rooms so well attended this
      evening, and particularly to find Mr. Maitland and his two lovely sisters.
      Do you observe," continued he, "that Gentleman in Regimentals on the
      opposite side?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I do, and is he in the Army?" enquired Bob "No," replied Tom, "that is
      only an assumed character for the Evening, but I must introduce you to
      them, though the Ladies are considered to be sharp shooters with their
      eyes, therefore it will be necessary for you to be on your guard."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "I've heard that by a single glance
          Strange witchery is sometimes done,
          And only by a look askance,
          Ladies have many a lover won."
</pre>
    <p>
      The elegant and tasteful illuminations of the Room, the sprightly sound of
      the music by a well selected band, and the gay movements of the well
      dressed circles, were attractive in the mind of Tallyho, and alternately
      rivetted his attention, while his cousin was as frequently addressed and
      congratulated by his friends.
    </p>
    <p>
      "My Dear Tom," said Maitland, who was lounging round the Room with his two
      sisters, and who seemed to consider himself the rose of the party by the
      affected levity of a military character, "I am glad to see you&mdash;'pon
      Honor&mdash;just going to make up a quadrille&mdash;know you are a good
      dancer&mdash;list you in my Corps with Misa Maitland's permission&mdash;but
      can't be denied 'pon Honor."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That is very gallant, truly," replied a lovely and interesting girl, his
      eldest sister. "With my permission, and yet he won't be denied."
    </p>
    <p>
      "If Miss Maitland were to command," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "denial
      were impossible, disobedience were disgrace and dishonor."&mdash;bowing
      politely to the Ladies.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Vastly pretty indeed Mr. Dashall, and to speak the truth I am very glad
      to find you here; for you know my brother is but a nobody, except when he
      shews himself off in Regimentals:" replied Miss Maitland.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[150]</span> "Aye, and we want somebody to talk to,"
      continued her sister.
    </p>
    <p>
      "'Pon my word, this is strange ill usage," said Maitland.-"I shall
      desert."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay," said Tom, "there is no need of that: but if you do, the ladies
      shall not be deserted while I have a hand at their service, and I believe
      I may venture to offer additional protection on the part of my Cousin."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob nodded assent, and assured the party he was proud of the honor of the
      introduction; while Maitland eyed him from top to toe, and was heartily
      laughed at by his sisters, which not a little mortified him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "If that's the case," said he, taking out his quizzing-glass, and staring
      each of them in the face in succession, "why I've nothing more to say upon
      it, so come along, I am anxious for a dance." The music just at the moment
      striking off, a Quadrille was formed, but the younger sister having
      declined dancing, Bob, who had no great inclination to "trip it on the
      light fantastic toe," had a good opportunity of following her example, and
      during the dance they amused themselves with observations on the dresses
      and manners of the company before them, in the course of which he
      discovered that Maitland was something of the fashionable insipid, and not
      very high in the general estimation of the Ladies, and the contrast
      between the easy and graceful movements of the Hon. Tom Dashall, with
      those of Maitland braced up in military uniform, and dancing with the
      stiffness of a Halbert, afforded them high amusement, it brought to
      Tallyho's recollection a French Dancing Master in the country, who, upon
      the occasion of his annual Ball, perceiving a gentleman and lady in person
      and figure perfectly contrasted, the latter being short and stout, and the
      former tall and thin, addressed the Gentleman in the following
      complimentary stile, as well as his broken English would admit, "Ma dear
      sare&mdash;bien obligé&mdash;ah! ma goot sare&mdash;you vill do me the
      honneur to lead off de next dance&mdash;you do dance as de <i>Poker</i>,
      and your Lady she do dance as de <i>Butter fierke</i>"&mdash;(meaning a
      butter firkin.) The allusions were exactly in point, and the company
      within hearing, did not suffer the sarcasm to escape unnoticed. How far
      the observations were well timed by the dancing master, or well received
      by the loving couple, is not our business here to enquire.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[151]</span> Miss Caroline Maitland was about 20
      years of age, of a most prepossessing and engaging form, fond of dress and
      full of vivacity with no mean conception of her own wit or captivating
      powers, her attire was elegant and shewy, almost approaching to the gaudy,
      rather than the selection of refined Taste and Judgment.
    </p>
    <p>
      Miss Amelia was about 19 with features calculated to make conquest certain
      where the attack was not made on hearts of stone, the simple modesty of
      her wardrobe seemed rather to indicate the thoughtful and contemplative
      mind, rich in its own resources, and requiring no foil to render
      conspicuous its real value, her auburn locks parted in the front,
      discovered a fine well arched forehead, from under which darted glances
      from her beautiful dark eyes, that when purposely directed for
      observation, spoke volumes to the heart. Unadorned by the feathers which
      waved in majestic splendor over the temples of her sister as she threaded
      through the mazy windings of the dance, she attracted the attention of the
      company in a much greater degree than the dress-delighted Caroline. Her
      figure was neither well nor ill formed, but the open and animated
      expression of her countenance, together with the graces of her mind, would
      in the opinion of all judicious thinkers, have been considered as a
      compensation for the absence of beautiful form. Her whole appearance
      however, was not only pleasing, it was prepossessing, while her manners
      and conversation were captivating. Bob gazed and admired, listened and was
      charmed.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Hon. Tom Dashall was at the same time fully occupied in his attentions
      to the other sister, but could not occasionally help a sly glance at Bob,
      indicative of the pleasure he derived from seeing his cousin thus engaged.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Quadrille being over, "Come," said Col. Maitland, "we must go and have
      a peep at the Card Tables, and enquire how the cash moves, for you know if
      your aunt is losing her money, she will be as cross as the&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Silence Charles," said his sister, "remember you have no occasion to make
      such observations here, why you might almost as well entertain us with a
      pedigree of the family, as expose the tempers and dispositions of your
      relations; besides I am sure the party alluded to would feel herself very
      much offended to hear such conversation in a Ball room. It is neither a
      fit time or place;"&mdash;and with <span class="pagenum">[152]</span>
      this, each of his sisters seizing an arm, led him towards the Card Room,
      alternately schooling him as they passed along, and leaving our Heroes to
      draw their own conclusions from what had occurred.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Thus it is," said Tom, "that a Commander in the field is obliged to be an
      obedient in the Ball Room, he is however a very poor creature at the best
      of times, and depends more upon the abilities of others than his own for
      the appearance he makes in the world, and is rather to be looked at than
      admired and esteemed. Here," continued he, "I shall have an opportunity of
      introducing you to a character of another kind, here is my friend Dick
      Distich, a logger of Rhyme, a poet and a contemplative philosopher, he is
      recently married, but appears to be without his rib."
    </p>
    <p>
      "My dear friend Dashall," exclaimed a tall thin man advancing and catching
      him by the hand, "I am glad to see you, for I am bewildered and lost."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Good," replied Tom, "then I am very glad to have found you, what is the
      Reward&mdash;are you advertised&mdash;are your manuscripts stolen, or is
      your Library on Fire? Has the good woman brought forth twins or
      disappointed your hopes?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Walk this way," replied the other, "you are a happy fellow, always
      gamesome and gay, but I know you have a fellow feeling for all mankind,
      and will pour the balm of pity into a wounded heart."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds," said Tom, "you attack a body with a mouthful of pity, and a
      heart full of wounds at a strange time, for the introduction of such
      subjects. What can you mean, probably you appear here as the knight of
      'the woeful countenance, with a determination to support the character to
      the end of the chapter. Why you look as melancholy as a mute, and one
      would almost fancy you were making a funeral visit, instead of attending a
      Mask'd
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have enough to make me so," was the reply, "I shall be brief in my
      narrative, in order that I may not interfere with your enjoyments, and you
      know that mine are of another kind. I am routed from home."&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "How do you mean?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Thus it is then, you know I am a plain man, a quiet man, a civil and
      humble man. I hate Balls and Routs, but my wife and I differ in taste. She
      has determined <span class="pagenum">[153]</span> on having a Rout at
      home, and it proves no misnomer with me, for Heaven knows they rout me
      from Study to Drawing Room, from Drawing Room to Chamber, and all because
      truly my little woman must have her party."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And why not?" enquired Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why man for this reason, you must know I had myself the sweetest little
      sanctuary in the world. I had gothicised my Study, its walls were painted
      in imitation of oak, my books were arranged with the most unauthor-like
      neatness, my prints hung, my casts and models all bracketed, and all have
      vanished like the
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     &mdash;baseless fabric of a vision."
</pre>
    <p>
      "And is this your misery," said Tom, "upon my soul I began to think you
      had lost your wife; but it seems you have only lost your wits. What the
      devil did you expect when you joined issue&mdash;to live as you have done
      like a hermit in a cell? Well if this is all I do pity you indeed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But you have not heard half yet. The whole house is transformed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And I think you ought to be reformed," continued Tom.
    </p>
    <p>
      Notwithstanding the lightness and satire with which our Hero appeared to
      treat the subject, poor Distich was not to be stayed in his course.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ah!" said he, with a sigh, "In vain did Cicero strain his neck to peep
      over Burke on the Sublime and Beautiful&mdash;Shakespeare beard Blair's
      Sermons and Humphrey Glinkert or Milton's sightless balls gleam over Sir
      Walter Scott's Epics&mdash;all, all, is chaos and misrule. Even my
      greenhouse over my head which held three ci-devant pots of mignonette, one
      decayed mirtle, a soi-disant geranium and other exotics, which are to
      spring out afresh in the summer&mdash;my shrubs are clapped under my
      couch, and my evergreens stuck over the kitchen fire place, are doomed to
      this unpropitious hot-bed, in order to make room for pattens, clogs,
      cloaks, and shawls, for all the old maids in Town."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom bit his lip to stifle a laugh, and treading lightly on the toe of his
      cousin, had so strongly excited Tallyho's risibility, that it was with
      difficulty he resisted the momentary impulse.
    </p>
    <p>
      The routed Benedict continued&mdash;"Our Drawing Room, <span
      class="pagenum">[154]</span>which conveniently holds ten persons, is to be
      the black hole for thirty&mdash;My study, dear beloved retreat, where
      sonnets have been composed and novels written&mdash;this spot which just
      holds me and my cat, is to be the scene of bagatelle, commerce, or any
      thing else that a parcel of giggling girls may chuse to act in it,&mdash;my
      statues are converted&mdash;Diabolus is made to hold a spermaceti candle,
      while the Medicean nymph, my Apollo Belvidere, and my dancing fawn, being
      too bulky to move, are adorned with aprons of green silk, because forsooth
      Betty says they are vastly undecent with nothing on them, and my wife is
      quite certain "that no one will visit us, unless we do as other people
      do." Alas! until the success of my last poem, we never cared about other
      people, and I am now absolutely turned out, to make room for them, and
      advised to come here to-night in order to prepare myself for the
      approaching festivity."
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall was unable to contain himself longer, and Bob, who had been for
      some time stuffing his white cambric handkerchief into his mouth, could no
      longer resist the laugh he had been trying to avoid. They look'd
      alternately at each other, and then at the doleful complainant, who with
      unaltered features sat for a moment between his laughing companions, till
      perceiving the ridiculous situation he was in, he rose from his seat and
      hastily left the room.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our friends then took a further survey of the company without making any
      additional remark except upon the view of the various elegant and tasteful
      dresses exhibited, the grace and agility of the dancers, and the
      brilliance of the decorations, when supper was announced.
    </p>
    <p>
      Moving onward to the Supper Room, they again encountered poor Distich, who
      although he had no relish for the generality of the amusements, declared
      he would not quit till he had supped: after which, Tom determined if
      possible to drive away the blue devils, who seemed to have occupied his
      brain. For this purpose he listened to his additional complaints, and
      filling his glass at every pause, became lively and agreeable, as the
      toast was circulated, till the invigorating effects of the bottle sunk him
      again, and at length putting him into a hackney coach, they dispatched him
      in good order to his Rib; after which they took their departure towards
      Piccadilly.<span class="pagenum">[155]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0011" id="link32HCH0011">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "I be one of they sailors who think 'tis no lie
          That for every wherefore there should be a why,
          That by fortune's strange weather a calm or a squall,
          Our births, good or bad are chalk'd out for us all:
          That the stays and the braces of Life will be found
          To be some of 'em rotten, and some of 'em sound.
          Thus the good we should cherish, the bad never seek,
          For death will too soon bring each anchor apeak."
</pre>
    <p>
      IT was half past eleven o'clock before our friends approaching the
      breakfast parlour, had an opportunity of congratulating each other on the
      amusements of the previous evening, when the Hon. Tom Dashall ever upon
      the active look-out for the most pleasureable amusements to occupy the
      mind and attention of his cousin, observing it was a very tine morning,
      proposed a ride to Greenwich, and with this object in view all being
      prepared, it was not long before they were seated in the curricle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Greenwich," said Tom, "is not a very long journey, nor do I know,
      speaking of the town itself, independent of its surrounding attractions,
      particularly to be admired, though it is a neat town, about five miles
      from London Bridge, in the county of Kent, with a market on Wednesdays and
      Saturdays. It is however, famous for an hospital for decayed Seamen, the
      brave defenders of their native soil, who have fought and bled for their
      king and country; thought to be the finest structure of the kind in the
      world, and for an observatory built by Charles II. on the summit of a
      hill, called Flamstead Hill, from the great astronomer of that name, who
      was here the first astronomer Royal: and we compute the longitude from the
      meridian of this place. It is also a place of great resort at holiday
      time, for being so near London. The Lads and Lasses move off in groups to
      Greenwich fair, and the amusements at those times are of so varying a kind
      as almost to defy description.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The hills and dales are lined
          With pretty girls all round."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[156]</span>And there are but few who have had an
      opportunity, but have occasionally enjoyed a roll down this hill. The
      roads leading to the sporting spot are to be seen clogged with coaches,
      carts, and waggons, decorated with laurel, and filled with company,
      singing their way down or up to participate in the frolics of Greenwich
      fair. It is however, much more celebrated for its once having been a Royal
      Palace, in which Edward VI. died, and Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth were
      born. On a part of the site of it, now stands the house belonging to the
      Ranger of the Park at Greenwich, also a College called the Duke of
      Norfolk's College, for the maintenance of 20 decayed Housekeepers, and
      another called Queen Elizabeth's, as well as a Royal Naval asylum for the
      orphans of Sailors and Marines; and although we are going down when there
      is no fair to attract multitudes to the spot, I can still promise you more
      solid entertainment in a review of these truly splendid and useful
      national establishments, besides which, the town affords plenty of good
      accommodation for refreshment and comfort."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had passed Westminster Bridge on their road. Bob thanked
      his cousin for the information he had imparted, but as the objects and
      subjects directly under his eye generally engrossed his immediate
      attention, he could not resist the impulse of the moment, as they turned
      the corner of the asylum wall, to remark that he had witnessed in many
      instances before, a practice which appeared in and about London, of
      chalking the walls, and perceiving in large letters "Dr. Eady 32 Dean
      Street Soho," enquired what was meant by it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," replied his cousin, "is one of the most ingenious modes of
      advertising, hit upon in the Metropolis, and the Doctor at all events
      deserves credit for the industry and perseverance he has manifested in
      making his name known. It is not altogether new, for it has been
      successfully practiced in popular elections. Men are sent out at night to
      chalk the names of Candidates on walls and other places, to keep their
      interest alive; but in all probability no one has ever before carried the
      system to so great a length as this Doctor Eady, for it is scarcely
      possible to travel ten miles round the metropolis without meeting with his
      name, which naturally excites enquiry into the object and pretensions of
      the chalked up Hero. You will also find in many cases that the proprietor
      of the Bonassus has <span class="pagenum">[157]</span>lately adopted the
      same system. It is a species of puffing which can hardly fail of producing
      notoriety, and I have before observed, it matters but little to the
      parties themselves by what means this is produced save and except the
      avoidance of expence."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is a curious scheme however," replied Bob, "and I have two or three
      times before intended to enquire its meaning."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There are numerous instances," returned Tom, "in which the eccentricities
      of an individual have blown him into notice, and puff'd fortune into his
      pocket. Packwood of Gracechurch street, had many whims and fancies, and
      acted upon the idea, that when a man's name is once up, he may go to bed,
      or take a nod elsewhere. By making razor strops and a certain paste for
      sharpening razors, he pasted his name on public credulity, and pocketed
      the proceeds. His advertisements were frequently laughable, and he caught
      his customers in their risible moments, wisely taking care never to laugh
      himself, 'till he had realized the possibles. I remember in the year 1807,
      he published a book, price "Two good Tower shillings," containing his
      advertisements, entitled "Packwood's whim, Packwoodiana, or the
      Goldfinches nest, or the way to get money and be happy." And to make the
      publication worth the money, and that there might be no grumbling, An half
      crown was according to the title-page, placed between the leaves."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That was no laughing matter, however," said Bob, "he could not have got
      rich by such means."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You must not trust the title-pages of books," replied Tom, "no more than
      the advertisements of Quacks, or the looks of persons. The half crown was
      not visible, or at least not tangible. It proved to be an anecdote related
      in the work. He however managed to circulate many copies, and it is
      generally understood, gained considerable money by his pursuits. He has
      left the benefit of his invention to his daughter, who now lives in Bride
      Lane, Fleet Street. But a more prominent character of recent times was the
      late celebrated Martin Van Butchell, whose name and fame are well known to
      Newspaper readers, and whose personal appearance at all times, excited in
      London the attention of the spectators. He was rather a tall man with a
      very long beard, and used to ride a short pony sometimes, spotted all over
      with a variety of colours."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[158]</span> "He must have cut a curious figure,"
      said Bob, "certainly, but what building have we here?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," replied his communicative cousin, "is The New Bethlem for the care
      and cure of lunatics. Bethlem was formerly situated on the South side of
      Moorfields, but as that building was hastening to decay, this elegant
      receptacle for its inmates has been prepared. It is not a little curious
      to remark, that it now occupies a part of that ground which was formerly
      devoted to mirth and revelry, The Dog and Duck Tea Gardens, the scene of
      many a frolic. The structure was designed by Mr. Lewis, and executed at an
      expence of £95,000. It is 580 feet in length, and capable of receiving in
      this front 200 patients. Another line of building extending to the South,
      is designed to admit an equal number, as well as 60 lunatics, the charge
      of which latter department, exclusively belongs to Government. The ground
      around it, occupying twelve acres, is devoted to the exercise of the
      patients."
    </p>
    <p>
      They were now dashing along the road towards the Elephant and Castle, when
      Bob was attracted by the appearance of the Philanthropic Chapel and
      School, which his cousin dismissed in a few words, by observing it was the
      school of reform, which he had alluded to, when last in the vicinity of
      Blackfriars, and which deserved more attention than he could just then
      give it. So touching up the tits in prime twig, they pushed on to the
      originally proposed place of destination.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having arrived at Greenwich, and partaken of some refreshment, our heroes
      proceeded immediately to the Hospital; the magnificent appearance of which
      had an evident effect upon Tallyho, as he gazed upon its exterior, and
      some of its venerable inhabitants taking their peaceable walks before it,
      while others were seated on accommodating benches, viewing the vessels
      passing up and down the river.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why," said Bob, "this Hospital is more like a Palace."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is," replied Tom, "a noble monument of National gratitude to its
      defenders, who deserve to be protected and assisted when disabled for
      service. Here the lame, the wounded, and the aged, are enabled to spin out
      the thread of a useful existence, in comfortable retirement. It was
      founded by William and Mary for invalid seamen, and many an old Commodore
      and gallant hardy Tar is <span class="pagenum">[159]</span> preserved in
      this establishment, after being doused from his pins, to puff old sorrow
      away and sing,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Yet still I am enabled
          To bring up in life's rear,
          Although I'm quite disabled
          And lie in Greenwich tier.
          The King, God bless his Majesty,
          Who sav'd me from the main,
          I'll praise with Love and Loyalty,
          But ne'er to sea again."
</pre>
    <p>
      "You perceive," continued he, "that the costume of the place is a suit of
      blue, with proper distinctions of rank and station allotted to each."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But," inquired Bob, "some of them appear to have their coats turned
      inside out; is that according to choice?"&mdash;"Not so," replied Tosi,
      "that is a mark of disgrace, by way of punishment, for some errors or
      improprieties of which they have been guilty; and there are some, in spite
      of misfortune, who cannot forget former times, and occasionally verify the
      words of the song&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "So in misfortune's school grown tough,
          In this same sort of knowledge,
          Thinking mayhap I'd had enough,
          They sent me here to College.

          And here we tell old tales and smoke,
          And laugh while we are drinking;
          Sailors, you know, will have their joke,
          E'en though the ship were sinking.

          For I while I get grog to drink
          My wife, or friend, or King in,
          'Twill be no easy thing, I think,
          D&mdash;&mdash; me to spoil my singing."
</pre>
    <p>
      And although used to severe discipline on board a ship, they do sometimes
      forget what they are subject to here, and "slip the cable upon an ocean of
      grog," grow dizzy over the binnacle, unship the rudder, lose their
      calculations, and stand too far out to sea to reach the intended Port; but
      more of this presently. You perceive this magnificent structure consists
      of four grand buildings, completely separated from each other; yet forming
      a very entire and most beautiful plan&mdash;especially viewed from the
      river, which runs in the front of it. Here the comforts and <span
      class="pagenum">[160]</span> conveniences of the hardy veterans, who have
      faced the enemies of their country in many fearful encounters, are
      studied, when they can no longer give the word of command, or answer it in
      such active services. The four different buildings you now see, contain
      accommodations for bed and board for about 2600 persons of different ranks
      and stations; and you may perceive by those you have before you, that the
      ranks they have formerly held in his Majesty's employ are still visible in
      their outward habiliments."
    </p>
    <p>
      They were now in the centre of the building, approaching the edge of the
      Thames, on whose bosom were seen sundry small vessels, gliding in majestic
      pride; and perceiving a seat capable of holding four or five persons, in
      the corner of which sat an old weather-beaten tar, in a gold-laced hat and
      coat, with a wooden leg, who was watching with apparent delight one of the
      larger vessels, with all her sails set to catch the breeze; they took a
      seat alongside of him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "we may here at «ase survey the
      exertions of such as still retain the power, and contemplate the comforts
      of those who no longer have powers to exert." The Pensioner remained in
      mute attention to the moving scene on the river, occasionally smiling and
      squirting from his jaws the accumulating essence of his quid, seeming at
      the same time to enjoy in retrospection scenes similar to what he had
      formerly been engaged in, but without bestowing one look on our Heroes.
      "There is a fine fresh breeze down the river," continued Tom, addressing
      the wooden legged warrior; and then a pause ensued&mdash;but no reply.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is a beautiful situation for retirement in old age," said Bob. "I
      should think, Sir," said he, "that you must be very comfortable under this
      protecting roof," determined, if possible, to elicit something from the
      hardy old Pensioner, approaching a little closer to him, and at the same
      time to take his attention, respectfully moving his hat.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tins address, however, was received with nearly the same effect as the
      previous observations, except that the veteran moved his hat in return.
      "He is a churlish old blade," said Tom; thinking by this remark to rouse
      and animate the blood of their taciturn companion.&mdash;"There seems to
      be no intelligence in him. Pray, Sir," continued he, "may I be so bold as
      to inquire, laying his hand upon <span class="pagenum">[161]</span> his
      knee, what is the name of that vessel on which you appear to bestow so
      many anxious looks?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Roused by the touch, he darted a hasty look at Tom, and then at Bob,
      started hastily from his seat, held up his stick, as they supposed, in a
      menacing attitude, then shouldering it, he marched, or rather hobbled, on
      his wooden pin some paces from them, and, with an air of commanding
      authority, returned in front of them, took off his hat, and began to
      describe two lines on the gravel, but which was to them perfectly
      unintelligible.
    </p>
    <p>
      However, in a few minutes, the arrival of a younger Pensioner, with one
      arm and a wooden stump, in breathless haste, informed them that the old
      gentleman was deaf and dumb.
    </p>
    <p>
      "God bless you, my worthy masters," said the interpreter, who first paid
      his respects to the old Commodore, "you have started my revered commander
      on his high ropes; he is as deaf as the top-lights, and as dumb as a
      stantion: two and twenty years ago, your Honors, he and I were both
      capsized together on board; the shot that took off his leg splintered my
      arm, and the doctor kindly took it off for me afterwards."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That was a lamentable day for you," said Tom. "Why aye, for the matter of
      that there, d'ye see, it disabled us from sarvice, but then we both of us
      had some consolation, for we have never been separated since: besides, we
      were better off than poor Wattie the cook, who had his head taken off by a
      chain-shot, and was made food for sharks, while we are enabled to stump
      about the world with the use of our remaining limbs, and that there's a
      comfort, you know."
    </p>
    <p>
      During this introductory conversation, the old Commodore was intent upon
      the work he had began, which, upon inquiry, was a sort of practical
      description of the situation in which the ships were placed at the period
      when he lost his limb. "He is now pouring in a broadside, and in
      imagination enjoying a part of his life over again. It is a sorry sight,
      my worthy Sirs, and yet upon the whole it is a cheerful one, to see an old
      man live his time over again; now he is physicing them with
    </p>
    <p>
      grape-shot&mdash;Bang&mdash;Bang&mdash;like hail&mdash;my eyes how she
      took it&mdash;Go it again, my boys, said the old Commodore&mdash;Ditto
      repeated, as the Doctor used to say. D&mdash;&mdash;m the Doctor; the
      words were scarcely out of his mouth, when down he <span class="pagenum">[162]</span>
      went; and as I stood alongside him, ready to attend to his orders, I was
      very near being sent down the hatchway stairs without assistance; for the
      same shot that doused my old master, carried away my arm just here.&mdash;"
      D&mdash;&mdash;me," said the old man, to his brave crew, as they carried
      us down to the cockpit&mdash;"I shall never forget it as long as I live&mdash;That
      was a pepperer&mdash;Once more, my boys, and the day's your own.&mdash;My
      eyes, he had hardly said the words, before&mdash;Bang, bang, went our bull
      dogs&mdash;and sure enough it was all over. They cried Piccavi, and went
      to the Doctor; but after that I know no more about the matter&mdash;we
      were a long while before we got the better of our wounds; and as for him,
      he has never spoken since&mdash;and as to hearing, I believe he never
      wished to hear any more, than that the enemies of his country had got a
      good drubbing."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time the old gentleman having gone through his manouvres, with
      perhaps as much accuracy as my Uncle Toby did the siege of Dendermond&mdash;having
      blown up the enemy with a flourish of his stick, made a profound bow, and
      hobbled away.&mdash;"Thank you, my friend," said the Hon. Tom Dashall,
      "for your information; we should never have understood him without your
      assistance, for which accept of this, and our best wishes&mdash;giving him
      a couple of half-crowns, with which, after thanking the donors, he made
      the best of his way in search of the old Commodore, who put our heroes
      forcibly in mind of the following lines:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "What a d&mdash;&mdash;d bad time for a seaman to sculk,
          Under gingerbread hatches on shore;
          What a d&mdash;&mdash;d hard job that this battered old hulk,
          Can't be rigg'd out for sea once more."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Thus you see," said Dashall, "how our habits become rooted in us: the old
      Commodore, though unable to give the word of command, or to hear the
      thunder of the cannon, still lives in the midst of the battle, becomes
      warmed and animated by the imaginary heat of the engagement, and
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Thrice he routed all his foes,
          And thrice he slew the slain."
</pre>
    <p>
      "But come, we will now proceed to a view of the Chapel, the Painted Hall,
      and the other curiosities of the <span class="pagenum">[163]</span>
      interior; which done, we will take our refreshment at the Crown, and
      pursue our way home."
    </p>
    <p>
      They now took another cursory survey of this magnificent pile of
      buildings, the grandeur and effect of which is scarcely to be imagined;
      the beauty and variety being heightened by the grand square, and the area
      beyond terminating with a view of the Observatory, which stands on a hill
      in Greenwich Park.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho was next delighted with a view of the Chapel, which is 111 feet
      long, and 52 broad, and capable of conveniently accommodating 1000
      Pensioners, nurses, and boys, exclusive of pews for the Directors, the
      several officers of the establishment, &amp;c&mdash;The altar-piece,
      painted by West, representing The escape of St. Paul from Shipwreck on the
      Island of Malta, and the paintings between the cornice and the ceiling of
      the Ascension, by the same artist, claimed particular attention. The
      splendid decorations of the Great Hall, with its variety of paintings and
      statues, were also objects of peculiar admiration, the effect of which
      must be seen to be duly appreciated. After these gratifications, according
      to the proposal of Dashall, they retired, to the Crown, where having
      partaken of à good dinner, and a glass of wine, they returned to town,
      fully satisfied with their excursion, and arrived in Piccadilly without
      any occurrence worthy of further remark.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0012" id="link32HCH0012">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          And have you not heard of a jolly young Waterman,
          At Blackfriar's Bridge who is used still to ply!
          Who feathers his oars with such skill and dexterity.

          Winning each heart, and delighting each eye:
          He looks So neat, and he rows so steadily,
          The maidens all flock to his boat so readily,
          And he eyes the young rogues with so charming an air
          That this Waterman ne'er is in want of a fare.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[164]</span> IT was in one of those inviting
      mornings, mild and temperate, that Dashall and Tallyho, lounged along
      Piccadilly, observant of passing events, and anticipating those of more
      interest which might occur in the course of another day devoted to the
      investigation of Real Life in London.
    </p>
    <p>
      The street already exhibited its usual bustle. The early coaches were
      rattling along on their way to their respective inns, loaded with
      passengers, inside and out, from the western parts of the country; the
      ponderous waggon, the brewer's dray, and not less stunning din of the
      lighter and more rapid vehicles, from the splendid chariot to the humble
      tax-cart, combined to annoy the auricular organs of the contemplative
      perambulator, and together with the incessant discord of the dust-bell,
      accompanied by the hoarse stentorian voice of its athletic artist, induced
      Squire Tallyho to accelerate his pace, in order to escape, as he said,
      "this conspiration of villainous sounds," more dissonant than that of his
      hounds at fault, and followed by his friend Dashall, slackened not his
      speed, until he reached the quietude of the new street leading to the
      King's Palace, in Pall Mall.
    </p>
    <p>
      In Regent Place (at the extremity of this fine street) the two friends
      paused in admiration of the noble pile of buildings, which had on this new
      interesting spot so rapidly risen, as if by the direction of that
      necromantic and nocturnal architect, the Genius of the Wonderful Lamp.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[165]</span> "Until lately, Carlton House, or more
      properly, now the King's Palace, was hid from observation, and the Royal
      view, in front of his princely mansion, was bounded to the opposite side
      of the way, the distance of a few yards only; now the eye enjoys a
      perspective glance of a spacious and magnificent street, terminating in a
      handsome public edifice, and yet terminating in appearance only, for here
      the new improvements sweep shortly to the left, and our attention is
      attracted to a superb circus, or quadrant, from whence without further
      deviation, Regent Street continues in lengthened magnificence, until it
      unites itself in affinity of grandeur with Great Portland Place."
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus far had Dashall proceeded, when the Squire expressed his surprise
      that the new street had not been so planned as to lead, in one direct and
      uninterrupted line, from Pall Mall to its ultimate termination.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then indeed," answered his friend, "it would have been one of the finest
      streets in the world." "Here too," continued the Squire, "is a manifest
      deficiency in Regent Place, there is a vacuum, it ought to be supplied
      with something, be it what it may, for the eye to rest on."
    </p>
    <p>
      "True, and your idea has been anticipated. One of the most interesting
      amongst the antiquities of Egypt, the column known as Cleopatra's
      Needle{1} is destined to raise
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 CLEOPATRA'S NEEDLE.

     The Court of Common Council +
     Fogrum, Botlieram, Gotham, &amp;c. a full meeting.

     Fog. (Laying down a newspaper.)
     The City should be told of it.&mdash;They say
     That Cleopatra's Needle's to be stuck
     In front of Carlton House!

     Got. They'll make the square
     A pin-cushion.

     Bot. No! worse&mdash;a needle-case.
     Has my Lord Sidmouth sent no letter yet
     To my Lord Mayor!&mdash;It should be pasted up.

     Fog. 'Tis said the Deptford Sheer-hulk has been cleared
     Of all its vagabonds, to bring it here.

     Hot. This beats Whitechapel hollow.    What's its weight?

     Fog. About three hundred tons.

     Bot. All solid steel?
     A pond'rous weapon for a lady's handling!

     Fog. No, stone with scratches on't; and here they say
     They're making five-mile telescopes to read them!

     But.  Zounds! what a strapping hand she must have had!
     Who was the sempstress?

     Fog.                                  Sir, a giantess,

     About ten thousand yards&mdash;without her shoes,
     Her thimble has been guessed, tho' rotten now,
     To fill the place they call the Lake of Maris,
     By Alexandria!&mdash;Nay, the noseless tilings
     That sit upon their tails in Russell Street,
     Were Cleopatra's pebbles, taws and dolls!

     Bot. Why, what a monstrous thread she must have used!

     Fog. The Chronicle here says&mdash;a patent twist
     Of elephants' legs, and dromedaries' spines,
     And buffaloes' horns!

     Got.                             What was her favourite work?

     Fog. (Rising majestically) Sir, she sewed pyramids!

     All lift their hands and eyes in silence.&mdash;The Council adjourns.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[166]</span> its lofty summit in Regent Place, and
      the western will shortly outrival the eastern wonder of the metropolis.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The Monument.

          "Where London's column pointing to the skies,
          Like a tall bull! lifts its head and lies."
</pre>
    <p>
      "By the bye, let us once more extend our excursion to the Monument, the
      day is delightful, and the atmosphere unclouded. We will approximate the
      skies, and take a bird's-eye view of the metropolis." In conformity with
      this suggestion the Squire submitted himself to the guidance of his
      friend, and an aquatic trip being agreed on, they directed their progress
      to Spring Garden Gate, and thence across the Park, towards Westminster
      Bridge.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A boat, a boat, your honour," vociferated several clamorous watermen, all
      in a breath; of whose invitation Dashall took not any notice; "I hate
      importunity," he observed to his friend. Passing towards the stairs he was
      silently but respectfully saluted by a modest looking young man, without
      the obtrusive offer of service.&mdash;"Trim your boat, my lad," this was
      the business of a moment; "now pull away and land us at the Shades&mdash;'of
      Elysium,'" said the Squire, terminating the instructions rather abruptly,
      of the amphibious conveyancer. "I am rather at a loss to know," said the
      waterman, "where that place is, but if your honors incline to the Shades
      at London Bridge, I'll row you there in the twirling of a mop-stick." "The
      very spot," said Dashall, and the waterman doffing his jacket, and
      encouraged to freedom by the familiar manner of the two strangers, <span
      class="pagenum">[167]</span> plied his oars lustily, humming, in cadence,
      the old song:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "I was, d'ye see a waterman,
          As tight and blythe as any,
          'Twixt Chelsea town and Horsley-down,
          I gain'd an honest penny."
</pre>
    <p>
      They now glided pleasantly on the serene bosom of the Thames, and enjoyed,
      in mute admiration, the beauties of a variegated prospect, which, if
      equalled, is at least not excelled by any other in the universe. On either
      side of this noble river, a dense mass of buildings presented itself to
      the eye, and as the buoyant vehicle proceeded, the interest of the varying
      scene increased in progressive proportion. Thousands of barges skirted the
      margin of the lordly stream, and seemed like dependant vassals, whose
      creation and existence were derived from and sustained by the fiat of old
      father Thames; and imagination might well pourtray the figure of the
      venerable parent of this magnificent stream regulating its rippling wave,
      and riding, in the triumph of regal sway, over his spacious domains. The
      grandeur of the public edifices on the left, the numerous indications of
      art on the right, the active industry on both sides, and the fairy-like
      boats of pleasurable conveyance gliding to and fro', and shooting, in the
      distance, through one or other of the lofty arches of Waterloo Bridge,
      produced an effect imposingly grand, and was dwelt upon by our hero of
      Belville Hall, particularly with mingled sensations of surprise,
      admiration, and delight.
    </p>
    <p>
      Silence had prevailed for some time, with the exception of the waterman,
      who now and then carroll'd a stanza responsive to the stroke of the oar,
      when the attention of his fare was drawn towards him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You seem to enjoy a merry life, my good friend," said the Squire.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ay, ay, your honour, God bless you, why should not I? At my poor home,
      and your honour knows that the cottage of the peasant is equally dear to
      him as is the Palace to the Prince, there is my old woman, with her five
      little ones, all looking forward to the happiness of seeing me in the
      evening, after the labours of the day; and to feel that one is cared for
      by somebody, is a sweet consolation, amidst all our toils,&mdash;besides,
      your honour, the old times are partly come round again; half-a-crown will
      go farther, aye, thrice-told, now, than it did a few <span class="pagenum">[168]</span>years
      ago;&mdash;then hang sorrow, I am a contented waterman, your honour; so d&mdash;&mdash;n
      the Pope, long life to King George the Fourth, and success to the land
      that we live in!" "Here," said Dashall, "is an heterogeneous mixture of
      prejudice, simplicity and good nature."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are but a young man, and cannot long have followed your present
      profession.&mdash;Is it from choice that you continue it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, your honour, I served an apprenticeship to it, am not long out of my
      time, and continue it as well from choice as necessity; the first because
      I like it, and lastly, as our parson says, because in any other situation
      I could serve neither my neighbour nor myself."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time the tiny bark had shot the centre arch of Waterloo; and new
      scenes of interest presented themselves, in ever-varying succession, as
      they proceeded towards Blackfriars. Somerset House wore, particularly, an
      aspect of great and imposing effect, and not less, as they ploughed the
      liquid element, was the interest excited, and the reminiscence of the
      Squire brought into action by the appearance of the Temple Gardens.&mdash;The
      simple, yet neatly laid out green-sward, reminded him of the verdant slope
      on part of his domains at Belville Hall, but here the resemblance
      finished; a diminutive, although pure and limpid rivulet only, passed the
      slope alluded to, and here was a world of waters, into which the influx of
      ten thousand such rivulets would produce no apparent increase. Amidst
      these cogitations by the Squire, and others of an unknown description by
      Dashall, the boat passed underneath Blackfriars' Bridge, and the lofty
      doom of St. Paul burst upon the view of the two associates, with gigantic
      majesty, and withdrew from their minds every impression save that of the
      towering object in view, superseding the consideration of all else, either
      present or retrospective.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Rest on your oars," was the order now given by the two friends, and while
      the waterman implicitly obeyed the mandate, they gazed with enthusiasm, on
      the stupendous edifice, seen perhaps, to better advantage from the river
      than from any other station, and felt proud in their affinity to a country
      and countryman, capable, the former of instituting, and the latter of
      carrying into effect so august an undertaking.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 During the building of St. Paul's Church, a country
     carpenter applied to the Overseer of the workmen  for
     employment as a carver. The Overseer smiling at the man's
     temerity, hearing he had never worked in London, it was
     observed by Sir Christopher Wren, who was present, who
     calling the man to him, asked him what he had chiefly worked
     at in the country?"Pig-troughs, &amp;c." was his answer. "Well
     then," says Sir Christopher, "let us see a specimen of your
     workmanship in a sow and pigs." The man returned in a few
     days, having performed his part with such exquisite skill,
     that he was immediately employed; and in tine, executed some
     of the most difficult parts of the Cathedral, to the great
     astonishment of all that knew the circumstance. So true it
     is that genius is often lost in obscurity.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[169]</span> Again proceeding on their way, they
      arrived in a few minutes, at another amongst the many in the metropolis,
      of those surprising works of public utility which reflect the highest
      honor on the laudable enterprize of the present times,&mdash;the Iron
      Bridge, known as Southwark Bridge, leading from the bottom of Queen
      Street, Cheapside to the Borough. It is constructed of cast-iron, and,
      from the river particularly, presents an appearance of elegance and
      magnificence; consisting of three arches only, the spacious span of each,
      stretching across the Thames in towering majesty, affords an aquatic vista
      equally novel and interesting.
    </p>
    <p>
      Gliding on the pacific wave, the "trim-built wherry" now passed under the
      lofty elevation of the centre arch; and our observers were struck with the
      contrast between the object of their admiration and its ancient neighbour,
      London Bridge, that "nameless, shapeless bulk of stone and lime," with its
      irregular narrow arches, through which the pent-up stream rushes with such
      dangerous velocity.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This gothic hulk," said the Squire, "is a deformity in the aspect of the
      river." "And ought at least to be pulled down, if not rebuilt," added his
      Cousin. "Even on the principle of economy, the large and incessant
      expenditure in support of this decayed structure, would be much more
      profitably applied in the erection of a new bridge of correspondent
      grandeur with the first metropolis in the universe; but the citizens seem
      inclined to protract the existence of this heavy fabric, as a memento of
      the bad taste of their progenitors."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
          The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear;
          Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
          And waste its sweetness in the desert air.'
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[170]</span> The indefatigable waterman continued to
      ply his oars, sans intermission, and in a few minutes our two associates
      in adventure were safely landed a short distance westward of the bridge.
      After remunerating the waterman, they ascended the stairs with an appetite
      quickened by the water breeze, and retired into the Shades, close at hand,
      for refreshment, previous to a renewal of their excursion.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Shades, near London Bridge, is a house, or rather cellar, much
      resorted to by respectable citizens of "sober fame," induced chiefly by
      the powerful attraction of genuine wines, which may here be had either
      drawn immediately from the wood, and served in regular standard pewter
      measures, or in bottles, also of full measure, containing the pure
      beverage, of various age and vintages. To these cellars numbers of the
      most respectable mercantile characters adjourn daily; enjoying the
      exhilarating juice of the grape, and further attracted by the pleasantness
      of situation, as commanding a full view of the river, whence the
      refreshing breeze is inhaled and enjoyed.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here then, our heroes recruited; and while taking their wine, Bob was much
      gratified by the performance of an itinerant band of musicians, playing
      outside, some of the latest and most popular airs, in a masterly style of
      execution. "Among other numerous refinements and improvements of the age,"
      observed Dashall, "may be considered that of our itinerant metropolitan
      musicians, for instead of the vile, discordant and grating hurdy-gurdy;
      the mechanical organ grinder, and the cat-gut scraper, "sawing a tune," we
      have now parties who form themselves into small bands of really scientific
      and able performers, who from instruments well selected produce a
      combination of delightful melody; and this progress of harmony is equally
      evident with respect to vocalists, who frequently posting themselves
      opposite some well frequented tavern or coffee-house, amuse the inmates
      with catches, glees, duets, &amp;c. and trust to the liberal feelings
      which the "concord of sweet sounds may have inspired, for remuneration and
      encouragement."
    </p>
    <p>
      Scarcely had Dashall concluded his remarks, when the musical party ceased
      their instrumental exertions, and, diversifying the entertainment, one of
      the performers struck up a song, which we here present to the reader as a
      subject not inapplicable to our work.<span class="pagenum">[171]</span>
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          In London where comical jokes go free,
          There are comical modes of cheating,
          Birch-brooms are cut up for Souchong and Bohea,
          And plaster for bread you are eating!
          And plaster for bread you are eating!

     (Spoken) "How do you do, Mrs. Caphusalent I hope you
     approved of the genuine tea." "O yes, new brooms sweep
     clean, and I have no occasion to buy birch ones, while I
     deal at your shop for tea." "There's nothing like my cheap
     bread," says Doughy the baker. "O yes," says Neddy, "you
     forget plaster of Paris is very like it."

          What are you at? each knave may cry,
          Who feels my honest rhymes;
          What are you after's? my reply,&mdash;
          There never were such times!
          There never were such times!

          In Accum's test you'll find it clear,
          For spirits of wine read Royal gin!
          Quashee and drugs they call strong beer,
          And Turtle soup is Ox's shin!
          And Turtle soup is Ox's shin!

     (Spoken) "By the powers of Moll Kelly, Mr. Max, but you've
     murdered my dear friend Patrick O'Shaughnessy, for after
     taking a noggin of your blue ruin, he went to blow out the
     candle on stepping into bed, when the poor dear creature
     went off in a blaze, and set fire to the house. Its all
     nothing at all but spirits of wine, you bog-trotting
     swindler!"

          Moist sugar is made from the best red sand,
          New milk from whiting and water!
          Sloe juice poisons half the land,
          And the weights get shorter and shorter!
          And the weights get shorter and shorter!

     (Spoken) "I hope," says Mr. Deputy Doublethroat, "you found
     the port I sent you last of the right sort: six years in
     bottle, Sir, I warrant it made your heart glad." "You mean
     my bowels sad, Mr. Deputy. Out of six friends whom I invited
     to partake of it four have already been booked inside
     passengers for the other world, and my dear Mrs. Fribble and
     me have been confined with inflammation ever since. Instead
     of importer of foreign wines, Mr. Deputy, I'd have you write
     up retailer of English poisons." {1}

     1 The following receipt is copied from a book, which is
     there said to be worth the price of the volume. "What is
     drank as port wine, is very often only a mixture of malt
     liquors, red wine, and turnip juice.    For the benefit of
     economical readers, the following are the proportions: forty-
     eight gallons of liquor pressed from turnips, eight gallons
     of malt spirits, and eight gallons of good port wine,
     coloured with cochineal, and roughened with elder tops. It
     should stand two years in casks, and one in bottles. If
     rough cider is substituted for turnip juice, and Coniac
     brandy for malt spirits, the wine will be the better."

          Turkey-coffee is Horse-beans ground,
          Irish eggs are boil'd in lime:
          In every trade deception's found,
          Except it be in yours or mine!
          Except it be in yours or mine!

     (Spoken) "There's more milk drank in London in a week than
     all the Cows in England could give in a fortnight;" says
     Blunderskull. "How can that be?" "Why to be sure, because
     two-thirds of it is white-wash!"

          What are you at? each knave may cry,
          Who feels my honest rhymes:
          What are you after's? my reply,&mdash;
          There never were such times!
          There never were such times!
</pre>
    <p>
      It was but a few steps from the Shades to the Monument, to which our
      adventurers were now pursuing their way, when they met with an incident
      not unworthy of observation. Do not leave your goods, is the friendly
      admonition generally inscribed, in large characters, over the resting
      place for porters, throughout the metropolis. Opposite the church of Saint
      Magnus, close by London Bridge, a porter having pitched his load, turned
      his back upon it, and reclined himself against the post in careless ease,
      and security. It was just as our heroes approached, that the porter had
      turned himself round to resume his burden, when lo! it had vanished; in
      what manner no one can tell! without doubt, one of those numerous
      street-prowlers who are continually on the look out for prey, observing
      the remissness of the porter, had availed himself of the favourable
      opportunity, and quietly walked off with his booty. A crowd collected
      round the sufferer, but it afforded him neither sympathy nor relief. Our
      associates, however, contributed in mitigation of his loss, and proceeding
      up Fish-street Hill, were, in a few moments, shrouded under the towering
      column of the Monument.
    </p>
    <p>
      Ascending the spiral stair-case of black marble, consisting of three
      hundred and forty-five steps, winding like a cork-screw, to the summit,
      our aspirants reached their aerial station in the gallery of this lofty
      edifice, and enjoyed one of the most variegated and extensively <span
      class="pagenum">[173]</span> interesting prospects of any in the
      metropolis. Far as the eye could reach, skirting itself down the river, a
      forest of tall masts appeared, and the colours of all nations, waving
      gaily in the breeze, gave a splendid idea of the opulence and industry of
      the first commercial city in the universe. The moving panorama, far
      beneath the giddy height, resembled the flitting figures of a <i>camera
      obscura</i>; the spacious Thames was reduced to a brook; the stately
      vessels riding on its undulating wave seemed the dwarfish boats of the
      school-boy navigator; and glancing on the streets and along London Bridge,
      horses dwindled in appearance to mice, and carriages to children's toys!
      after having enjoyed, during several minutes, the prospects afforded by
      their elevated position, the two friends descended, and with a feeling of
      relief again trod the safer and less difficult path of <i>terra firma</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our observers now turned their direction westward, and passed into Lombard
      Street, chiefly formed of banking-houses and other public edifices. "This
      street," said Dashall, "is noted as the focus of wealth, the point of
      convergence of civic riches, and its respectable bankers are not more
      dignified by the possession of superabundant property than enhanced in the
      estimation of their fellow-citizens by strictly conscientious honour and
      integrity.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And of these not the least important in self-consequence is the jolly
      civic Baronet," continued Dashall, "who has already come more than once
      within the scope of our observation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ecce homo! behold the man!" responded the Squire, and the Baronet was
      descried rolling his ponderous form from the opposite alley to his
      banking-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is rather unfortunate," observed Dashall, "that nature has not kept
      pace with fortune, in liberality to the Baronet. Profuse in giving him a
      colossal magnitude of person, he exhibits a most disproportionable
      endowment of intellect. Unlike his great prototype Sir John, in one sense,
      but yet resembling him in another, 'He is not witty himself, but he
      occasions wit in others.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are very fond of making a butt of me," observed the Baronet to a
      brother Alderman.&mdash;"By no means," rejoined the latter, "I never was
      fond of an empty butt in my life." "Is the worthy Baronet inclined at
      times, (asked the Squire) in his capacity of M.P. to irradiate the gloom
      of St. Stephens?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[174]</span> "O yes, frequently, particularly so
      when in the plenitude of his wisdom he conceives that he can enlighten the
      house with a modicum of information. The last time I heard him hold forth
      was as an apologist for the tumultuary loyalists at the Mansion House
      Meeting, when he delivered himself in a manner so heterogeneal of
      commonsense, and so completely in a style of egotism, as to excite the
      ridicule and risibility of the whole house, and discompose the gravity of
      even the speaker himself."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The following is a strictly literal versification of the Speech
     alluded to:

     THE MANSION-HOUSE ROW, AND APOLOGY FOR
     THE LOYALISTS.

     Being a literal versification of the eloquent Speech of Sir
     W&mdash;ll&mdash;m C&mdash;RT&mdash;s, Baronet, in the House of Commons, Friday,
     February 2, on the presentation, by Mr. John Smith, of the
     Petition of the Merchants of London.

     I rise, Mr. Speaker, indulgence entreating
     A Speech while I make on the Mansion-house Meeting.
     The prior Requisition was certainly signed
     By men of good substance, with pockets well lin'd!
     With such I am ever good humour'd and civil,
     But worth, without wealth, I would pitch to the devil'.
     The Lord Mayor, I think, then, assum'd a position
     Of duty, in yielding to said Requisition;
     For may my oration be given to scorn,
     If ever I saw, from the day I was born,
     A list of more honoured, more propertied men,
     And probably never may see such again.

     Now high as I prize both the merits and station,
     Of loyalists signing the first declaration;
     Permit me to say, it was too mild by half,
     Too much milk and water&mdash;Some Members may laugh&mdash;
     I care not;&mdash;I say that it did not inherit
     The tythe of a loyal and time serving spirit.
     I'm charged too with signing it, nevertheless,
     I DID,&mdash;for I knew not how else to express
     My zeal, in supporting, with firm resolution,
     The Crown,&mdash;and Old England's decay'd Constitution!
     Who they are, Constitution and Crown that sustain,
     The people should now,&mdash;else we labour in vain!
     And, therefore, I sign'd the fore-named declaration.
     Altho' such a weak milk and water potation!
     For why should the loyalists smother their cause,
     And lose the high gain,&mdash;ministerial applause.
     'Pon honour,&mdash;aye, even in detractions despite&mdash;
     In corners and holes, Sir, I take no delight;
     And, never on any pursuit do I go,
     Of which 1 don't want the Almighty to know!
     I signed, Sir, the loyal, luke-warm declaration,
     To bring to its senses a turbulent nation!
     To cheer up His Majesty,&mdash;win his good graces,
     And keep his lov'd Ministers still in their places!
     The hon'rable member, my friend, who spoke last,
     Is not quite correct in detailing what pass'd
     At the Mansion-house Meeting; for patiently heard
     He was, until symptoms of riot appear'd.
     At last it broke out, with a vengeance 'tis true,
     And dire was the fracas! but what could we do,
     Where adverse opinion so warmly prevail'd,
     And each with revilings his neighbour assail'd?
     Why, Sir, to this house, I could prove in a minute,
     That greater majorities out than now in it,
     Of sound thinking persons, in these fair dominions,
     Are scouting the hon'rable member's opinions.

     Well-bred, Sir, believe me, and good-looking people,
     Were wedg'd in the Mansion-house quite of a heap all;
     Whilst I, most politely, besought their attention,
     But no,&mdash;not a word was I suffer'd to mention!
     A party oppos'd me, altho' no long speeches
     I make,&mdash;(a kind lesson that prudence still teaches;)
     And waiting a hearing an hour, perhaps longer,
     The dissonant clamour grew fiercer and stronger!
     In fact, when I open'd my mouth, the commotion
     Exceeded in fury the storms of the ocean!
     Some hale stout young men, who had mix'd with the throng,
     And press'd, the conflicting addressers among,
     Escap'd from the Meeting in tumult and smother,
     And swore that they never would visit another!

     I well recollect, in the year ninety-three,
     A similar fracas I happen'd to see;
     The place, Grocers' Hall, where contention was wrought,
     So high, that a stout battle-royal was fought!
     Indeed, save one Meeting, I ne'er knew a case,
     Where wrangling and fighting had not taken place!
     In that one, so happen'd, good luck to betide,
     Its fortunate members&mdash;were all on one side!
     Reverting again to the Mansion-house Row,
     When next our staunch loyalists mean to avow
     Their zeal,&mdash;&mdash;may they issue a strong declaration,
     Then mix'd with a water and milk preparation!
     The gout in my toe, for I wore a great shoe,
     At last sent me home, without bidding adieu.

     And now having said, Mr. Speaker, thus much
     I hope on this house the impression is such,
     The loyalists fully to clear, and their leader
     From charge, at that Meeting, of boisterous proceedure.

     The Honourable Baronet now sat down, amid the ironical cheers,
     of the Treasury, and the tumultuous laughter of the whole house.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[175]</span> The two partners in adventure had now
      reached the Mansion House. The Justice Room was open, and the friends
      ascended the stairs in order to witness the equitable dispensation of
      right by the Civic Sovereign.
    </p>
    <p>
      The case now under investigation was a curious one, and excited the
      interest and amusement of a numerous auditory.
    </p>
    <p>
      The itinerant exhibitor of a dancing bear, complained that the person
      (proprietor of a small menage) now summoned into the presence of his
      lordship, illegally withheld from him a monkey, his property, and the
      ci-devant associate of the ursine dancer aforesaid.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the other hand, the master of the menage roundly asserted that he was
      the rightful proprietor of the monkey, and had been in possession of the
      animal for several years.
    </p>
    <p>
      "My lord," said the master of the bear, "let the monkey be produced, and I
      will abide by his choice between this man and me as his master." This
      proposition appearing reasonable, and pug having been brought forward as
      evidence, before giving his testimony made a respectful obeisance to the
      Chief Magistrate, and so far as chattering and grinning were indicative of
      his good intentions, seemed desirous of expressing his courtesy to the
      auditory in general. After having stared about him for some time, with an
      inquisitive eye, and corresponding gesticulation, he discerned the
      bear-master, and springing into his arms with all the eagerness of
      affectionate recognition, expressed the utmost joy at the unexpected
      meeting, and when the other claimant attempted to approach, he repulsed
      him in the most furious manner, and clung to the friend of his election
      with renewed pertinacity.
    </p>
    <p>
      Under these circumstances, the monkey was adjudged to the bear-master as
      his proper owner, and pug and his friend left the Justice Room, with
      mutual exchange of endearments.
    </p>
    <p>
      Nothing else meriting notice, occurred to the two strangers in this their
      new scene of observation. The Civic Sovereign having resigned the chair to
      one of the Aldermen, in order that he might attend the Sessions at the Old
      Bailey, Dashall and the Squire, at the same time, retired with the
      intention (the day now waning apace) of making the best of their way home,
      which they reached without further adventure.<span class="pagenum">[177]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0013" id="link32HCH0013">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          The charge is prepar'd, the lawyers are met,
          The judges all rang'd, a terrible show!
          I go undismay'd, for death is a debt,
          A debt on demand,&mdash;so take what I owe.

          Since laws were made for every degree,
          To curb vice in others as well as in me;
          I wonder we ha'n't better company
          Upon Tyburn tree!

          But gold from law can take out the sting,
          And if rich men like us were to swing
          'Twould thin the land such numbers would string
          Upon Tyburn tree!
</pre>
    <p>
      PURPOSING to spend an hour in the Sessions House at the Old Bailey, our
      adventurers started next morning betimes, and reaching their destination,
      took their seats in the gallery, for which accommodation they were charged
      one shilling each, which the Squire denominated an imposition, inquiring
      of his friend by what authority it was exacted, and to whose benefit
      applied, as from the frequent sittings of the Court, and general crouded
      state of the gallery, the perquisites must be considerable.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Custom in every thing bears sovereign sway," answered Dashall. "I know
      not whence this is derived, nor whose pockets are lined by the produce;
      but you will probably be surprised to learn, that a shilling admission is
      only demanded on common occasions, and that on trials of great public
      interest, from one to two guineas has been paid by every individual
      obtaining admission."
    </p>
    <p>
      The arrival of the Judges now terminated this colloquy. The Lord Mayor and
      several Aldermen were in waiting to receive them, and these sage
      expounders of the law were conducted to the Bench by the Sheriffs of
      London and Middlesex. The Chief Magistrate of the City uniformly and of
      right presiding at this Court, his Lordship <span class="pagenum">[178]</span>
      took his seat on the same Bench with the Judges, and the usual forms
      having been gone through, the dispensation of justice commenced.
    </p>
    <p>
      Several prisoners were tried and convicted of capital felony, during the
      short space of time that our associated observers remained in Court; but
      the cases of these wretched men, and the consciousness of their impending
      fate, seemed in no respect to operate upon their minds, as they left the
      bar apparently with perfect indifference.
    </p>
    <p>
      An unfortunate man was next brought forward, and accused of having stolen
      from an auction room a couple of wine glasses. He was of respectable
      demeanor, and evidently had seen better days. When asked what he had to
      allege in his defence, the victim of misery preluding his story with a
      torrent of tears, told the following piteous tale of distress:
    </p>
    <p>
      He had been in business, and sustained an unimpeachable integrity of
      character for many years. Independence seemed within his reach, when
      misfortune, equally unforeseen as inevitable, at all points assailed him!
      In the course of one disastrous year, death deprived him of his family,
      and adversity of his property. He had unsuccessfully speculated, and the
      insolvency of several who were considerably indebted to him, had completed
      his ruin! At the time he committed the act for which he stood convicted at
      that bar, he had not tasted food for three days, neither had he in the
      world a friend or relative to whom he could apply for relief. The Jury
      found him Guilty, but strongly recommended him to mercy. The Judge
      humanely observed, that the least possible punishment should be inflicted
      on the prisoner. He was then sentenced to a fine of one shilling, and to
      be discharged. A sum of money, the spontaneous bounty of the spectators,
      was immediately collected for him, while one of the Jury promised him
      employment, on his calling at his house on the following day. The
      gratitude of the poor man was inexpressible: the sudden transition from
      the abyss of despair to the zenith of hope, seemed to overwhelm his
      faculties. He ejaculated a blessing on his benefactors, and departed.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[179]</span> Dashall and his friend were much
      affected by this incident. Another, however, presently occurred, of a more
      lively description. In the course of the next trial, the counsellor, on
      cross-examining a witness, found occasion to address him with, "Well, my
      old buck, I suppose you are one of those people who do not often go to
      church?"&mdash;"Perhaps," said the other, "if the truth were known, I am
      as often there as you are." The promptness of the reply produced a laugh,
      in which the witness very cordially joined. "What makes you laugh?" said
      the lawyer. "Is not every body laughing?" replied the other. "True," said
      the man of law; "but do you know what they are laughing at?"&mdash;"Why, I
      think in my heart," rejoined the fellow, "that they take either me or you
      to be a fool, but I do not know which!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The Judge at this repartee could not retain his gravity; a tumult of mirth
      pervaded the whole Court, and the discomfited counsellor adjusted his wig
      and sat down.
    </p>
    <p>
      During the few minutes longer that our heroes remained, nothing of
      interest occurring, they withdrew; and passing down the Old Bailey to
      Ludgate Street, and from thence towards the Temple, they crossed Fleet
      Street, and taking the direction of Shire Lane, were induced, by way of
      investigating Real Life in its lowest classification, to enter one of
      those too frequent receptacles of vice denominated Coffee Shops.
    </p>
    <p>
      This was a house of notorious irregularity, the occupant of which had more
      than once experienced the visitation of the law for his utter contempt of
      social order&mdash;and from the present appearance of his guests, it did
      not seem that legal interference had effected moral amendment.
    </p>
    <p>
      As our two friends entered this Augean Stable, a whisper of surprise,
      mingled with dismay, went round the motley assemblage of female
      street-drabs, cracksmen,{1} and fogle-hunters; and a wary glance of
      suspicion darted from the group "many a time and oft" on the new-comers,
      who notwithstanding kept possession of their seats, and ordering without
      apparent notice of the party a cup of coffee, apprehension subsided into
      security, the re-assured inmates resumed their interrupted hilarity, and
      our adventurers were thus afforded the means of leisurable observation.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Cracksmen (Burglars), Fogle-hunters (Pickpockets).
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[180]</span> The Squire, who had not perused the
      annals of blackguardism, and consequently was not an adept in the
      knowledge of the slang or vulgar tongue, was under the frequent necessity
      of applying to his friend for explanation of the obscure phraseology of
      those ladies and gentlemen of the pad, which Dashall contrived to
      occasionally interpret without the assistance or notice of its
      multitudinous learned professors.
    </p>
    <p>
      The desire of witnessing the exhibition of Real Life in its lowest state
      of human degradation, induced a prolongation of stay by our two
      associates. In the meanwhile, "the mirth and fun grew fast and furious,"
      exemplified by dance, song, and revelry, interspersed with practical
      jokes, recriminative abuse, and consequent pugilistic exercise, where
      science and strength alternately prevailed; and in deficiency of other
      missiles, poker, tongs, coffee-cups, saucers, and plates, were brought
      into active requisition.&mdash;The scene was a striking illustration of
      "Confusion worse confounded." Luckily our two observers were in a
      situation without the reach of injury; they therefore "smiled at the
      tumult and enjoyed the storm."
    </p>
    <p>
      The landlord now interfered in defence of his fragile property.
      Preliminaries of peace were agreed on, through his high mediation, and
      finally ratified betwixt the contending parties, ending as they began,
      like many other conflicting powers, <i>statu quo ante bellum</i>!
    </p>
    <p>
      "And now to serious business we'll advance, says one of the King's of
      Brentford.
    </p>
    <p>
      "But first let's have a dance."
    </p>
    <p>
      The present party followed exactly Mr. Baye's proposition; the dance and
      the row over, they now proceeded to serious business.
    </p>
    <p>
      Seated in various groups, each engaged itself in conversation, which, from
      its almost inaudible expression, was singularly contrasted with the recent
      tumultuous uproar.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next box where sat our two friends, was occupied by cracksmen and
      fogle-hunters, one of whom, whose superior skill gave him an ascendancy
      over his associates, had delineated on the table the plan of certain
      premises, and having given in a very low tone of voice, a verbal
      illustration to his fellow-labourers, with what intention it is not
      difficult to conjecture, observed, "We may as well <i>pad</i> (walk) it,
      as <i>Sir Oliver</i> (the moon) is not out to night."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[181]</span> The party to whom this remark was
      addressed, prepared to pad it accordingly,&mdash;when the desired egress
      was opposed by the entrance of three men, who unbuttoning their great
      coats, exhibited, each a hanger and brace of pistols, and took the whole
      community, male and female, into safe custody
    </p>
    <p>
      This was a <i>coup-de-main</i> on the part of the captors, and sustained
      with the most perfect <i>sang froid</i> by the captured.
    </p>
    <p>
      The officers next turned their attention to Dashall and Tallyho, who
      giving their cards, and candidly explaining the motives which led them
      into the temporary society of the prisoners, they were treated with
      becoming respect, the officers with their captives proceeding on their
      route to Bow Street, and our heros to the occurrence of future adventure.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho congratulated himself on his escape from expected mortification
      and inconvenience, but Dashall, whose more active and enterprizing mind
      was not to be checked by trifles, enjoyed the vague apprehensions of his
      friend, and by way of making amends for the penance they had inflicted on
      themselves in Shire Lane, agreed to dine and finish the evening at a
      Tavern in Covent Garden.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thither, then, as they pursued their course, the Squire expressed his
      surprise that a final stop was not put to scenes such as they had just
      witnessed, and all such places of nefarious rendezvous, abolished by the
      vigilance of the police.
    </p>
    <p>
      "On the contrary," observed Dashall, "it is the interest of the police,
      not utterly to destroy these receptacles of vice. They are the toleration
      haunts of profligacy, where the officers of justice are generally assured
      of meeting the objects of their inquiry, and therefore, under proper
      restrictions, and an occasional clearance, the continuance of a minor evil
      is productive of public benefit, by arresting the progress of infamy, and
      preventing the extension of crime."
    </p>
    <p>
      Passing along the Strand, the humane feelings of the Squire were excited
      by apparently a mutilated veteran seaman, who in a piteous tone of voice,
      supplicated his charitable consideration. The applicant stated, that he
      had lost an arm and an eye, and was deprived the use of a leg, in the
      service of his country, without friend or home, and entirely destitute of
      the means of subsistence, that he had no other resource than that of a
      humble reliance on public benevolence. The Squire with his usual
      philanthropic promptitude drew out his purse, but his <span class="pagenum">[182]</span>
      friend intercepted the boon, and inquired of the seaman under whom, in
      what ship, and in what action he had sustained his misfortunes. To these
      questions a satisfactory answer was given, and the claim of the man to
      compassion and relief was about to be admitted, when another inquiry
      occurred, "are you a pensioner?"
    </p>
    <p>
      A pause ensued: in the interim the mendicant seeing a person approach, of
      whose recognition he was not at all ambitious, dropped in a moment his
      timber toe, unslung his arm, dashed a patch from his eye, and set off with
      the speed of a race-horse.
    </p>
    <p>
      During the amazement of our two observers of Real Life, excited by this
      sudden and unexpected transformation, the officer, for such was the
      quondam acquaintance of the imposter, introduced himself to their notice.
      "Gentlemen," said he, "you are not up to the tricks of London, that fellow
      on whom you were about to bestow your charity, and who has just now
      exhibited his agility, is one of the greatest imposters in London;&mdash;however,
      I shall not run him down at present.&mdash;I know his haunts, and reckon
      sure of my game in the evening."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess," replied Dashall, "that in the present instance I have been
      egregiously deceived;&mdash;I certainly am not up to all the tricks of
      London, although neither a Johnny Raw nor a green-horn; and yet I would
      not wish to prove callous to the claim of distress, even if sometimes
      unguardedly bestowing the mite of benevolence on an undeserving object."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Society for the Suppression of Mendicity in the Metropolis," said the
      Officer, "think differently, they recommend that no relief should be given
      to street-beggars."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," said Dashall, offended by the officer's interference,&mdash;"I
      envy them not the possession of their feelings," and the two friends
      renewed their walk.
    </p>
    <p>
      Proceeding, without further interruption, our pedestrians, were induced to
      intermingle with a crowd which had collected round a man who wore a most
      patriarchal redundancy of beard, and had been recognized by an
      acquaintance as a shoe-maker of the name of Cooke, a disciple of the
      American Prophet, John Decker.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[183]</span> Their high mightinesses the mobility
      were mischievously inclined, and would certainly have grossly insulted, if
      not injured the poor devotee, had not Dashall and his friend taken him
      under their protection.{1} He had been quietly making his way through
      Covent Garden Market, when the greetings and surprise of his friend at his
      strange transformation, attracted the curiosity of the multitude, and his
      unhesitating declaration, that he meant to accompany the great Prophet to
      Jerusalem, excited derision and indignation against the unfortunate
      enthusiast, when luckily our two heros interposed their good offices and
      conducted the proselyte in safety to the Shakespeare Tavern.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 On Monday, in consequence of a very great uproar on Sunday
     night, in Worcester Street, Southwark, about the house of
     the American Prophet, John Decker, that singular person was
     brought before the Magistrates of this office, the
     inhabitants of the neighbourhood having attributed the
     disturbance to the unfortunate fanaticism of the prophet and
     his followers.

     The constables stated, that on Sunday night, at half-past
     eight o'clock, they saw a mob, consisting of about three
     hundred people, collected at the door of the house, and
     heard the cries of "murder" issue from within. The officers
     on going up stairs, found the Prophet lying on his back.
     Some persons who had been abusing him escaped, and the
     Prophet said the cause of their violence was, that he had
     refused to get out of his bed to preach. He was conveyed to
     the watch-house. The witnesses informed the Magistrate, that
     the Prophet had made some proselytes, who were actually
     about to leave the country with him, and accompany him upon
     an expedition to the Holy Land. The parish officers were
     naturally alarmed at the inconveniences to which such an
     emigration would expose them, and hoped that every thing the
     arm of the law could do would be done to prevent it. The
     fanatic spirit of some of the followers of the Prophet may
     be guessed at from the following facts:&mdash;

     The officers who apprehended him, had, two or three times,
     in the course of Sunday evening, gone to the house in
     Worcester Street, and dispersed a large congregation that
     had assembled in the room appropriated to preaching. The
     Prophet preached first, and was succeeded by one of his most
     zealous followers, who was followed by another. This was
     constantly the practice, and during the service, which was
     being listened to with rapture, upwards of a dozen of the
     congregation seemed to be as violently engaged as the
     Prophet himself, whose sincerity is well known. One man, a
     shoe-maker, named Cooke, has actually sold off his stock and
     furniture, which were worth £300.; and if he were not known
     to be the greatest admirer of the Prophet might be called
     his rival, for he has allowed his beard to grow to an
     immense length, and goes about preaching and making
     converts. He has a little son, who looks half-starved, and
     is denied all animal food by the Prophet and his father,
     upon the principle of Pythagoras&mdash;that he might not be
     guilty of eating a piece of his own grand-mother. Another
     trades-man, who was most industrious, and attached to his
     wife and seven children, proposes to leave them all, and go
     to Jerusalem. His beard is also becoming indicative of his
     intention, and he sleeps, as the others who are struck by
     the Prophet do&mdash;with his clothes on. None of the sixteen
     families who reside in the house in which the Prophet lives,
     have, however, caught the infection, and the land-lady
     complained most severely of the annoyance to which she was
     subject.

     Mr. Chambers said he expected to have heard that the Prophet
     was on his way to Jerusalem.

     The Prophet said he only waited for a Tunisian vessel to set
     sail with his brother Cooke, and nine other of his brethren.
     Upon being questioned as to his inducing those men to leave
     their families, he said he did not take them, a higher power
     took them. After having stated the manner in which he had
     been pulled out of the bed, and declared that he forgave his
     enemies, he said, in answer to a question whether he was at
     Brixton, and worked there, "Yea," and to the question
     whether he liked it, "Nay."

     Cooke, the shoe-maker, then stepped forward, and told the
     Magistrate that he was determined to follow his brother
     Decker to Jerusalem, but that the parish should suffer no
     inconvenience, for he should take his son with him on his
     pilgrimage. He said that they should not preach again where
     they had been so abused, but should remove to a house near
     the National School, in St. George's Fields, where they
     would preach till the day of their departure.

     The Magistrate assured the Prophet that he should be
     committed if he preached again without a license, which he
     might have next Sessions for four-pence.    The Prophet was
     then discharged.

     Decker, it appeared, had baptized seventeen persons, since
     he commenced his labours in St. George's Fields.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[184]</span> No remonstrances of Dashall were of any
      avail in inducing the pertinacious fanatic to forego his resolution of a
      pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and when the inquisitive numbers who still
      lingered in front of the tavern had dispersed, Cooke, with appropriate
      acknowledgment of the protection which had been afforded him, took his
      leave, after having unsuccessfully endeavoured to make converts of Dashall
      and the Squire to the tenets of Prophet Decker, or to prevail on them to
      accompany the sacred band in the projected expedition to Jerusalem.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link32HCH0014" id="link32HCH0014">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          My son, time was when by necessity,
          (Nought else could move me to the enterprize,)
          My steps were urg'd to London's wide domains,
          I made my will, as prudent friends advis'd;&mdash;
          For little wot they, that beset with peril,
          I ever should return.&mdash;Safe though thou speed'st
          To London's wond'rous mart, thy pleasaut way,
          Think not that dangers cease, they but begin,
          When ent'ring the metrop'lis; slowly then
          Receive even Friendship's overtures, and shun
          The softer sex their wiles and blandishments;
          Walk cautiously the streets, of crowds beware,
          And wisely learn to fly each latent snare.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[185]</span> AMONGST other occurrences of the
      preceding day, Cousin Bob adverted, at the breakfast table, to the
      confused intermixture of carriages, dissonant din of attendant lacqueys
      clamouring for vehicles, and the dangers occasioned by quarrelsome
      coachmen, precipitately, and at all hazards, rushing forwards to the doors
      of a mansion, on the breaking-up of a route, each claiming, and none
      willing to concede precedency in taking up their masters and mistresses,&mdash;"
      I am surprised," said the Squire, "that any rational being would sacrifice
      his time and comfort in making one of an assemblage where within doors you
      are pressed to the dread of suffocation, and in making your exit, are
      environed by peril and difficulty."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Such," rejoined Dashall, "are the follies of fashion. Its influence
      predominates universally; and the votarists of <i>bon ton</i>, are equally
      assiduous in the pursuit of their object, whether with the satellites in
      the gay and volatile regions of the court, or amongst those of 'sober
      fame' in the mercantile bustle of the city. In the purlieus of the great,
      <i>bon ton</i> is characterized by inconvenience; four or Ave hundred
      people, for example, invited to crowd a suite of rooms not calculated to
      accommodate half the number, the squeeze must be delightful! But
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     'Custom in every thing liears sovereign sway!'
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[186]</span> thence yield the followers of High Life
      in the West to the follies of fashion, where the enjoyment of ease is a
      subordinate, if not altogether exploded consideration.&mdash;Eastward on
      the other hand:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          'I loves High Life, and all the joys it yields,'
          Says Madam Fussick, warm from Spitalfields.
          'High Life's the day, 'twixt Saturday and Monday,
          'And riding in a one-horse chay on Sunday,
          ''Tis drinking tea on summer afternoons,
          'At Bagnigge Wells, in china and gilt spoons.'"
</pre>
    <p>
      "Again," added the Squire, "what a vast expence is incurred by these idle
      and ostentatious displays of luxury, without one object of advantage
      gained!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Unproductive result," rejoined Tom, "is not always the case; it not
      unfrequently happens that a route and card-party are united; when the lady
      of the mansion generally contrives, by skill and finesse, to transfer a
      portion of the spoil into her own private treasury; and notwithstanding
      expense, there are those who have given splendid routes and
      entertainments, and at the same time, recruited their exhausted finances,
      at the sole charges of incautious tradesmen, who notwithstanding repeated
      losses, yet absorbed in the love of gain, become the dupes of avarice and
      credulity.&mdash;In the elucidation of my remark,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          'If old assertions can't prevail,
          Be pleased to hear a modern tale.'
</pre>
    <p>
      "Not long since," continued Dashall, "an aspiring young limb of the law,
      of property, in expectancy (but that is neither here nor there) and
      fertile in expedient, contrived to insinuate himself into the good
      fellowship of a few bon vivants; and resolving to irradiate with
      'surprising glory' the galaxy of fashion, he furnished a house, by
      permission of an accommodating upholsterer, in a style of magnificence,
      and decorated a side-board with a splendid service of plate, borrowed
      auspiciously for the occasion from a respectable silversmith, on a promise
      of liberal remuneration and safe return; after effecting the object of its
      migration, in dazzling the eyes of his honourable friends at his projected
      entertainment.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[187]</span> "Amidst the busy 'note of preparation,'
      the important day at last arrived; the suite of apartments became thronged
      with company, and every one admired the elegance of the furniture; the
      tasteful ornaments of the rooms; the brilliancy of the lights and massive
      construction of the valuable family plate! In fact every thing conspired
      to give <i>eclat</i> to the scene, and confirm the friends of the founder
      of the feast in their belief alike of his exquisite judgment and high
      respectability.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The silversmith, that he might not appear indelicately obtrusive, let a
      few days elapse after this grand gala had taken place, before he applied
      for restoration of his property, the borrower congratulated him on his
      good fortune, told him, that several friends had very much admired the
      plate, and even expressed an intention of ordering similar services; and
      that with regard to the borrowed plate, he had taken so strong a fancy to
      it, as to feel disposed to become a purchaser, if the price was
      reasonable, and an adequate consideration was made for prompt payment.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The silversmith, who chuckled inwardly at the prospect of extending his
      business, and connecting himself with so many 'honourable men,' gratefully
      expressed his acknowledgments, and assuring him of liberal dealing, the
      several items of the borrowed plate were examined and dilated upon, the
      price of each article, after much higgling, was ultimately fixed, the sum
      total ascertained, and an early clay appointed for a final settlement of
      the accompt. It never was the intention of the borrower to return the
      plate, but he now had achieved a great object, by entirely changing the
      whole complexion of the business; he had now converted fraud into debt,
      and happen what might, the silversmith could only sue him on a civil
      process, which against a limb of the law, and as such, privileged from
      arrest, must be tedious and uncertain, whereas, had he made away with the
      plate, without accomplishing the object of this last manouvre, (such is
      the indiscriminating severity of English law,) that he might have been
      amenable to the punishment of felony!
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now comes the reckoning when the banquet's o'er! the parties met for
      final settlement, when behold! the accepted purchaser offers the
      silversmith a bill at a month; he refuses it indignantly, and consults his
      solicitor as to the possibility of compelling the restoration of the
      plate; but the lawyer told him, that on his own shewing this could not be
      done. The silversmith had now no other resource than that of taking the
      <span class="pagenum">[188]</span> proposed bill, and waiting the
      expiration of the month, for payment. In the meanwhile, the debtor
      exhibiting the talent of an able conveyancer, transmuted the silver into
      gold, and now laughs at the credulity of London tradesmen, and sets the
      silversmith at defiance!"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This incident, as related by Dash all, actually and very
     recently occurred.

     An interesting and useful volume might be compiled on the
     subject of frauds practised on London tradesmen. Many of
     these tricks have been highly characteristic of ingenuity.
     The following is a ludicrous instance of female stratagem.
     We give the article literally, as it occurred.

     A few days ago, a female, apparently a person of rank,
     visited in her carriage, towards the evening, a Silk
     Mercer's Shop, westward of Temple Bar, where she made
     choice, for purchase, of silks and other rich articles of
     feminine dress and decoration, to the value of above fifty
     pounds.    Her manner was that of a perfectly well-bred
     gentlewoman, and her person displayed no small portion of
     attractive and elegant accomplishment.    Having completed
     her selection, she expressed much regret that she could not
     pay the amount of the bill on the instant: "But,"she
     continued, "it is a delightful evening; my house is in the
     suburbs of town; a short and easy ride will prove a pleasant
     recreation, and if you will accompany me home in  my
     carriage, you shall, on our arrival, be immediately paid."
     The mercer was  more gallant of spirit than to reject the
     courtesy of a lady so fair and fascinating, and accepting
     with pleasure the proferred  honour, the vehicle soon
     reached its destination.    The lady first alighted, taking
     with her, into an  elegant mansion, the articles of
     purchase;  the mercer presently followed, was shewn into a
     handsome drawing-room, and received with much politeness, by
     apparently by a gentleman of the faculty.&mdash;A silence of a
     few minutes  ensued, when  the mercer inquired for the lady,
     observing, at the same time, that it was necessary he should
     return to town immediately.    The courteous physician
     recommended silence, and the mercer became irritated and
     clamorous for his money and freedom of exit.   Two
     attendants making their appearance, they were directed to
     conduct the patient to his apartment.    The mercer
     suspecting that he was the dupe of artifice, grasped a
     poker, with the intention of effect-ing, at all  hazard, his
     liberation from "durance vile," but his efforts had no other
     result than that of confirming his trammels, and he was
     presently bound over to keep the peace, under the guarantee
     of a straight-waistcoat!   The unfortunate mercer now told a
     "plain unvarnished tale," which gained  the attention of the
     humane physician, who was no other than the proprietor of
     the mansion, in which he managed its concerns as an Asylum
     for Lunatics.    The lady who accompanied the mercer to the
     house, had been with the physician the preceding day, and
     made arrangements with him for the reception  of an insane
     patient.&mdash;It was now discovered that she had come under a
     fictitious name; had retreated in the hired vehicle with the
     mercer's property; and had adopted this curious stratagem,
     the more effectually to silence suspicion and prevent
     detection.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[189]</span> This detail threw the Squire into a
      train of rumination, on the tricks and chicanery of metropolitan
      adventurers; while Dashall amused himself with the breakfast-table
      concomitant, the newspaper. A few minutes only elapsed, when he laid it
      aside, approached the window, and seeing a funeral pass, in procession,
      along the street, he turned towards his Cousin, and interrupted his
      reverie with the following extemporaneous address:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Dost thou observe," he said, "yon sable tribe
          Of death anticipates?&mdash;These are they
          Who, when men die, rejoice!   all others else
          Of human kind, shed o'er departed friends
          The tear of reminiscence; these prowlers
          Hunt after Death, and fatten on his prey!
          Mark now their measur'd steps, solemn and slow,
          And visage of each doleful form, that wears
          The semblance of distress; they mourn for hire,
          And tend the funeral rites with hearts of stone!
          Their souls of apathy would never feel
          A moment's pang were Death at one fell sweep,
          Even all their relatives to hurl from earth!&mdash;
          Knaves there exist among them who defraud
          The grave for sordid lucre; who will take
          The contract price for hurrying to the tomb
          The culprit corse the victim of the law,
          But lay it where?   Think'st thou in sacred ground!
          No!  in the human butcher's charnel-house!
          Who pleas'd, reserves the felon for the knife,
          And bribes the greater villain with a fee!"
</pre>
    <p>
      Cousin Bob was very much surprised by this sudden effusion, and inquiring
      the source of inspiration, Dashall put into his hands the newspaper,
      pointing to the following extraordinary communication, extracted
      verbatim.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The King v. Cundick.&mdash;This was an indictment against the
     defendant, undertaker to the Horsemonger-lane gaol, for a
     mis-demeanour, in corruptly selling for dissection the body
     of a capital convict, after he had been executed, contrary
     to his duty, in viola-tion of public decency, and the
     scandal of religion. There were various counts in the
     indictment, charging the offence in different ways.    The
     defendant pleaded Not Guilty.

     The case excited considerable interest, as well for its
     unprecedented novelty as the singularity of its
     circumstances. It was a public prosecution at the instance
     of the Magistracy of the County.

     Mr. Nolan and Mr. Bolland conducted the case for the Crown;
     and Mr. Adolphus, Mr.  Turton, and  Mr.  Ryland, were for
     the defence.

     It appeared in evidence that a capital convict, named Edward
     Lee, who had  been tried  and found guilty at the last
     Croydon Assizes, of a highway robbery, was publicly executed
     at Horse-monger-lane gaol, on Monday, the 10th of September.
     After he was cut down he was delivered over to the
     defendant, the appointed carpenter and undertaker of the
     gaol, for interment at the County's expense, for which he
     was allowed  three guineas.    He received particular
     directions that the afflicted mother and other friends of
     the deceased were to be permitted to see the body before
     inter-ment, and follow it to the grave, if they thought
     proper.    The friends of the deceased called on the
     defendant, who lives in Redcross-street, to know when the
     funeral would take place.    He appointed the following day,
     Tuesday, the 11th  of September. The unhappy mother of the
     deceased, being confined to her bed, was unable to attend
     the funeral, but sent a friend to the house of the defendant
     to see the body, and cut a lock of its hair.    Application
     being made to the defendant for this purpose, he said he had
     already buried the body, because he could not keep such
     people any longer in his house.    The friend demanded a
     certificate of the funeral, which he promised to procure on
     a subsequent day, upon paying a fee.    On the Thursday
     following the uncle of the deceased called for a certificate
     of the burial, but could not get it, the de-fendant then
     saying that the body had been buried the day before. The
     friends then became clamorous, and complaint being made to
     Mr. Walter, the gaoler, he sent repeatedly for the defendant
     to come to the gaol and explain his conduct, which he
     declined.    At length one of the turnkeys was sent after
     him on the Friday, with positive directions to bring him
     forthwith.    As soon as the de-fendant found that he was
     compelled to go to Mr. Walter, he made an excuse, that he
     had some immediate business to attend to, but would meet the
     messenger in an hour at a neighbouring public-house.    To
     this the turnkey consented, but watched the defendant to his
     house, where he saw two or three suspicious looking men
     lurking about.    After waiting for some time, the defendant
     came to him, and expressed his surprise that he was not gone
     to the public-house.    The defendant appeared agitated, and
     went off as hard as he could towards the Southwark Iron
     Bridge.    A person named Crisp, who was with the turnkey,
     went one way after the defendant, and the turnkey another.
     The latter went to Crawford's burial ground, where he saw
     the same suspicious looking man whom he had observed about
     the defendant's house, in the act of interring a coffin.
     He immediately interposed, and said the coffin should not be
     buried until he examined its contents.    At this moment
     the   defendant   came  into   the   burying-ground,   and
     seemed  angry at   the   interruption,  and   begged   he
     might  be allowed to inter the body, which he acknowledged
     was Edward Lee; and excused himself for not burying it
     before, by saying, that the pressure of other business
     prevented him. The turnkey remonstrated with him for
     disobedience of the orders he had received to permit the
     friends of the deceased to see the body and attend the
     funeral. The defendant seemed greatly perplexed: at length
     he took hold of Crisp and the turnkey by the sleeve, and,
     with considerable agitation, offered them 10L. each to
     permit him to bury the coffin, and say no more about the
     matter. This was peremptorily refused. The turnkey insisted
     upon opening the coffin, and whilst the defendant went to
     explain his conduct to Mr. Walter, he did open it, and found
     that it contained nothing but earth. It appeared that the
     defendant had been applying to the sexton in the course of
     the week for a certificate of the burial, but was unable to
     succeed, the body not having been buried. Search was then
     made for the body, and at length it was traced to Mr.
     Brooks's dissecting rooms in Blenheim-street, Marlborough-
     street, where it had undergone a partial dissection. The
     upper part of the scull had been removed, but replaced.
     Several persons identified the body as that of Edward Lee.
     It was proved that about ten o'clock in the evening of
     Tuesday, the 11th September, a hackney-coach had stopped at
     the defendant's house, and the defendant was seen assisting
     two men in lifting a large hamper into the carriage, which
     then drove off. This was the substance of the case for the
     prosecution.

     Mr. Adolphus, in an able and ingenious address to the Jury,
     contended that the indictment must fail, inasmuch as the
     evidence did not satisfy the allegation in the indictment,
     that the defendant had sold the body for lucre and gain. Now
     there was no proof whatever that it had been sold, which
     might have easily been made out, if the fact was so, by
     summoning Mr. Brooks, the anatomist. The real fact was, that
     the body had been stolen by other persons from the
     defendant's house, and the defendant had been driven to the
     miserable shifts proved in evidence, in order to conceal the
     misfortune, and prevent the loss of his lucrative situation
     in the gaol.

     No witnesses to facts were called for the defendant; but
     several persons gave him a good character for honesty and
     industry.

     The Jury, under the learned Judge's directions, found the
     defendant Guilty.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[192]</span> The Squire having perused this
      appalling account of human depravity, expressed himself in energetic terms
      of indignation against the miscreant, who to the acute miseries of
      maternal affliction at the premature loss of a son, and by such a death!
      could add the bitter anguish of consigning his cold remains, unseen by any
      earthly spirit of sympathy, to the knife of the dissector, in breach of
      every law moral and divine! In the warmth of his kindly feelings, the
      Squire would have uttered a curse, had he not been prevented by the
      entrance of his old friend, Sir Felix O'Grady. The two friends received
      their quondam acquaintance with much cordiality. "Cuish la mevchree!
      exclaimed the Baronet, shaking heartily the hands of Tom and Bob; "and how
      have you done these many long days past?"&mdash;This inquiry having been
      satisfactorily answered, Sir Felix explained the object of his visit:&mdash;"Aunts
      of all sorts, or any sort, or no sort at all at all," said he, "are cursed
      bad things, sure enough; as somebody in the play says."
    </p>
    <p>
      This abrupt commencement excited the risible feelings of Dashall and his
      Cousin, which were further stimulated by Sir Felix seriously appealing to
      their commiseration, under the pressure of misfortune,&mdash;"for this
      same respectable maiden lady, Mrs. Judith Macgilligan, my venerable aunt
      as aforesaid, has recently imported her antiquated piece of virginity from
      her native mountains near Belfast, and having had my address pat enough,
      the worse luck, the sowl, with an affected anxiety for my welfare, must
      take up her residence, while in town, in the same house with her dutiful
      nephew, that she may have the opportunity of watching over him in his
      erratic pursuits, as she says, with maternal solicitude; that is, in other
      words, to spy into all my actions, and bore me everlastingly with her
      intolerable company. It was but the blessed morning of yesterday that she
      took a fancy to exhibit her beautiful person at the lounge in Bond-street;&mdash;by-the-bye,
      this same paragon of perfection has passed her grand climacteric, being on
      the wrong side of sixty;&mdash;is as thin as a lath and as tall as a
      May-pole;&mdash;speaks an indescribable language of the mongrel kind,
      between Irish and Scotch, of which she is profuse to admiration; and
      forgetting the antiquity of her person, prides herself on the antiquity of
      her ancestry so much, that she is said to bear a strong resemblance to her
      grandmother, judging from the full-length portrait (painted seventy years
      ago,) of that worthy progenitor of our family, who was a descendent,
      lineally, from O'Brien king of Ulster, that she copies her dress on all
      public occasions, to the great amusement and edification of the
      spectators; and in these venerable habiliments she promenaded Bond-street,
      hanging on my arm;&mdash;by the Powers, till I felt ashamed of my precious
      charge, for all the world was abroad, and my reverend aunt was the
      universal magnet of attraction."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, and you find yourself comfortable," said Dashall,&mdash;"we have
      all of us foibles, and why expect your aunt to be exempted from them?&mdash;Have
      you any thing in expectance,&mdash;is she rich?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[193]</span> "Twenty thousand pounds, twice told,"
      replied Sir Felix, "sterling money of Great Britain, in which I have a
      reversionary interest."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why then," said Tallyho, "you cannot do better than contribute all in
      your power to her ease and pleasure; and in exercising this commendable
      duty, you will gain present satisfaction, and may justly anticipate future
      benefit."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And," added Dashall, "if my Cousin or myself can by any means further
      your object, in contributing towards the full attainment of your aunt's
      amusement while she remains in town, you may command our services."
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the powers of fortune," exclaimed the Baronet, "you have just given me
      the opportunity I was wishing for; that is, I had a favour to ask, but
      which I could not find courage enough to do, notwithstanding my native
      assurance, until now. You must know, then, that on Easter Monday, the
      illustrious Judith Macgilligan, descendant lineally from O'Brien king of
      Ulster, means to honour the Civic entertainment with her sublime presence,
      and grace the Ball at the Mansion-house in a dress resembling that of her
      grandmother the princess, worn seventy years ago. Now, my dear friends,
      having pledged yourselves to contribute all in your power towards the
      pleasure of my venerable aunt, which of you will be her partner for the
      evening?"
    </p>
    <p>
      The pause of a moment was succeeded by a hearty laugh; Tallyho had no
      objections to the hand, as a partner at the ball, of Miss Judith
      Macgilligan, even should she choose to array herself after the manner of
      the princess her grandmother. But Dashall observing that as no masque
      balls were given at the Mansion-house, it would be necessary that Miss
      Macgilligan should forego her intention of appearing otherwise than in
      modern costume. Sir Felix undertook to arrange this point with his
      relative, and in the name and on behalf of Squire Tallyho, of
      Belville-hall, to engage the distinguished honour of her hand at the
      ensuing Mansion-house Ball. This important affair having been
      satisfactorily adjusted, it was proposed by Dashall that, as his Cousin
      and the Baronet had neither of them ever been present at the Epping Hunt
      on Easter Monday, they should form themselves into a triumvirate for the
      purpose of enjoying that pleasure on the morrow. The Squire having in town
      <span class="pagenum">[194]</span> two hunters from his own stud, embraced
      the proposition with the avidity of a true sportsman, and Sir Felix
      declining the offer of one of these fleet-footed coursers, it was agreed
      they should be under the guidance of Tom and Bob, and that Sir Felix
      should accompany them, mounted on his own sober gelding, early in the
      morning, to the field of Nimrod, from which they purposed to return to
      town in sufficient time to witness other holiday sports, before dressing
      for the entertainment at the Mansion-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      These preliminaries settled, and Sir Felix agreeing to take a pot-luck
      dinner with his two friends, the trio resolved on a morning lounge of
      observation, and sallying forth, took their way along Piccadilly
      accordingly.
    </p>
    <p>
      Although it was Sunday morning, this street presented, with the exception
      of the shops being closed, nearly the same appearance of bustle as on any
      other day; the number of pedestrians was not apparently less, and of
      equestrians and carriage-occupants, an increase; the two latter
      description of the ton, actually or would-be, passing onwards to the
      general Sunday rendezvous, Hyde-Park, where Real Life in London is
      amusingly diversified; and where may be seen frequently, amongst the
      promiscuous promenaders of the Mall, a prince of the blood-royal
      undistinguishable by external ornament from any of the most humble in the
      moving panorama; while an endless succession of carriages, in which are
      seated, what England beyond any other country may proudly boast of, some
      of the most beautiful women in the world, present the observer with an
      enlivening theme of admiration; and, together with the mounted exhibiters,
      from the man of fashion on the "pampered, prancing steed," to the youth of
      hebdomadary emancipation on "the hacked Bucephalus of Rotten Row," form an
      assemblage at once ludicrous and interesting.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having circumambulated the "Ring," our triumvirate returned by the gate in
      Piccadilly, and crossing from thence to Constitution-hill, Dashall pointed
      out to his companions the seat, as now fixed upon (on the summit of the
      Green Park) of a Military Pillar, intended to be raised in commemoration
      of the many victories achieved by British valour in the last war. "This
      plan, if properly carried into effect by the erection (said Dashall) of a
      column equal in splendor of execution <span class="pagenum">[195]</span>
      with the glory it is meant to record, will be the greatest ornament of the
      metropolis."
    </p>
    <p>
      "If again," added the Squire, "it does not prove like some other recent
      projections, a Castle in the air!"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Tallyho probably alludes to the long meditated Monument in
     memory of the late Princess Charlotte, towards the memory of
     which a very large sum of money was raised by public
     subscription.
</pre>
    <p>
      Without any other occurrence worthy of remark, the perambulators reached
      home, and enjoyed the comfortable quietude of an excellent domestic
      dinner, without interruption. Every arrangement having been made for the
      amusements of next day, the party broke up, Sir Felix returning to his
      lodgings, to gladden the heart of Miss Judith Macgilligan with the
      anticipation of conquest; and Dashall and Tallyho retiring to early
      repose, that they might encounter the business of the morning with
      recruited renovation.&mdash;Next day
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          The feathered songster chanticleer
          Had wound his bugle horn,
          And told the early villager
          The coming of the morn;&mdash;
</pre>
    <p>
      When the Baronet made his appearance "on a milk-white steed," before the
      mansion of Dashall. In a few moments the friendly trio were assembled in
      the breakfast-parlour, and partook of a hasty repast while the coursers
      from the Belville-stud, destined to perform a prominent part in the
      forthcoming adventures of the day, were getting in readiness. The
      preparations were soon completed,&mdash;the hunters, two noble animals,
      were brought to the door,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     Each "with neck like a rainbow, erecting his crest,
     Paniper'd, prancing and pleas'd, his head touching his breast."
     "Saddle White Surrey for the field to-morrow,"
</pre>
    <p>
      was the order of Richard," said the Baronet; "but had he been in
      possession of such a horse as either of these, 'White Surrey' might have
      gone to the devil."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I'll warrant them both, sound, wind and limb, and gentle to boot," said
      the Squire,&mdash;"Come then, if you wish to be well-mounted, and would
      really look like a "baron bold," seat yourself fearlessly on either, and
      bear yourself through the streets of London with the dignity <span
      class="pagenum">[196]</span> befitting a true, magnanimous and puissant
      knight of Munster!"&mdash;This address had the desired effect,&mdash;it
      implied a doubt of the Baronet's courage, and he seated himself on the
      "gallant steed" immediately.&mdash;Tom and Bob at same time betook
      themselves, the former to the other "high mettled racer," and the latter
      to the unassuming rejected Rosinante of Sir Felix. A trifling delay,
      however, occurred; the stirrups of the Baronet's charger were too short,
      and he alighted while the groom repaired the defect.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Now see him mounted once again
          Upon his nimble steed;
          Full slowly pacing o'er the stones,
          With caution and good heed.
</pre>
    <p>
      Whether, like the Calenderer's horse under the its guidance of the
      celebrated John Gilpin, the disdainful steed now in the management of Sir
      Felix, "wondered what thing he'd got upon his back," we are not competent
      to decide; but he certainly in his progress "o'er the stones" manifested
      frequent impatience of restraint. These symptoms of contumaciousness were
      nevertheless borne by the Baronet without complaint,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Till finding soon a smoother road
          Beneath its well-shod feet,
          The snorting beast began to trot,
          Which galled him in his seat.
</pre>
    <p>
      And, as if intuitively knowing the incapacity of his rider to restrain
      him, and despising curb and rein, the indignant animal set off at full
      speed, to the great dismay of Dashall and the Squire, who putting their
      horses to the pith of their mettle, hurried after their friend with the
      utmost solicitude. Luckily, however, the career of the spirited animal was
      impeded, and finally stopped, by the frequent interposition of the
      passengers on the road, and the Baronet was safely set down, ready to
      exclaim with Hawser Trunnion, "If ever I get astride the back of such
      another harum scarum son of a bitch again, my name is not Felix O'Grady."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link3image-0006" id="link3image-0006">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page196.jpg" alt="Page196 Easter Hunt " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      The pursuers speedily rejoined the pursued, and felt happy in the
      knowledge of his welfare. The abashment of the baronet, occasioned by this
      untoward adventure, soon gave way to his characteristic good-humour; and
      <span class="pagenum">[197]</span> having resigned all further government
      of the Squire's unruly quadruped, and resumed possession of his own, the
      triumvirate proceeded towards the place of destination.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the meanwhile, the city horsemen arose with Phoebus, to mount their
      rosinantes, to be present at the enlargement of the stag, and were roused
      from their slumbers according to order by the watchmen. The motley group,
      that was early in the field, furnished a capital subject for the
      caricaturist. Carts, horses, lame mares, and refractory donkies, with
      their grotesque riders, covered the field, together with dandies in
      chaises, and the lassies from St. Giles's, Chick-lane, Wapping, and St.
      Catherine's, in market carts, with their sweet-hearts, considerably
      swelled the number of the hunters. The stag was decorated with bunches of
      ribbons, and seemed when enlarged much more frightened at the appearance
      of the Londoners, than at the hounds, his natural enemies. When the chase
      commenced, never was witnessed such a scene of confusion and disorder.
      Upset carts, and unhorsed huntsmen, were seen in all directions. The stag
      went off in good style, and out of hundreds of horsemen, not above a dozen
      were able to keep their seats, but a number of fellows were on the lurk to
      take care of the stray horses.
    </p>
    <p>
      After a cursory glance at the variegated and boisterous assemblage, the
      stag bounded forward with the velocity of lightning, amidst the astounding
      shouts of the multitude, and was instantly followed by his biped and
      quadruped foes of indescribable diversity, from the amateur of the turf on
      his spirited and well caparisoned steed, to the spavined gelding, bearing
      its cockney rider, and numerous other <i>annual</i> equestrians, preceded
      by every description of the canine race, from the high bred beagle to the
      "cur of low degree." All was tumultuous dissonance, and confusion worse
      confounded. Tallyho enjoyed the scene to the very acme of delight, and
      giving the reins to his experienced courser, high in blood, and eager for
      accustomed exercise, the noble animal accompanied by its companion under
      the guidance of Dashall, started off with unrivalled celerity, and in a
      few moments set all competition at defiance. Sir Felix, in an attempt to
      follow his friends, leaped a fence, but gaining the opposite side, horse
      and rider came to the ground: fortunately neither of them sustained any
      injury.&mdash;Sir Felix, <span class="pagenum">[198]</span> however, on
      regaining his footing, found that his horse, which had gone forward, was
      in possession of a stranger, who losing his own, had availed himself of
      this opportunity of remounting, and now pursued his way bare-headed; for
      the wind had uncourteously uncovered his pericranium, and he abandoned his
      castor to its fate rather than by stopping to pick it up, risque the
      restitution of his prize, and the wrath of the baronet, who stood
      spell-bound against the fence, vociferously demanding his gelding, and
      extending his arm in reiterated denunciation of vengeance. The
      unceremonious intruder turning round on the saddle, without slackening his
      career.&mdash;" Bide you where you are, my fine fellow," he provokingly
      exclaimed, "until the chase is over, and your gelding shall then be
      forthcoming." If the sense of misfortune is alleviated by seeing it
      participated by others, the baronet had ample fund of consolation, for
      numbers around him were involved in similar calamity. He profited too, by
      an admirable lesson of patience under disaster. On the right of his
      runaway gelding, and its rider, he perceived a dismounted horseman,
      quietly submitting to adversity, by seating himself on a bank, while his
      unburthened steed pursued the chase with unabating celerity, leaving its
      owner to wait, at leisure, its return. Two cockney equestrians now
      approached, at full speed, the fence where Sir Felix still stood, in the
      attitude of remonstrance and irritation; and attempting the leap, one,
      like the baronet, gained the opposite side, but with a less successful
      result; for the rider was pitched over with some violence, with his heels
      aloft in the air, as if about to perambulate the field on his hands, while
      his horse came to the ground on its face and knees, suspended by its hind
      legs from the upper bar of the fence, and vainly essaying at extrication.
      The other cockney sportsman was similarly situated: his horse had not
      cleared the fence, neither had the rider, although he had reached the neck
      of his rosinante in his progress to the opposite side; in this position he
      assumed a permanent aspect, for his horse rested with his fore-legs over
      the fence, and seemed incapable of either retrograding or proceeding.
      These lessons taught the baronet resignation in mishap; the result of
      which was the return, in about an hour, of his friends Tom and Bob, to his
      great comfort, which was further increased by their bringing with them his
      gelding, having recognized the animal <span class="pagenum">[199]</span>
      in the possession of a stranger, who, on their claiming it as belonging to
      Sir Felix O'Grady, very readily gave it up, saying, that the baronet had
      not forgot in the midst of his threats, frequently to announce his name,
      and hoping that he would excuse him for having resorted to the privilege
      which every person claims on this day, of taking care of the stray horses.
      The party now fully satisfied with the humours and disasters of the Easter
      Hunt, turned their steeds homewards, and journeying unimpeded,
      notwithstanding the throng of the road, they quickly gained town, without
      the occurrence of any other memorable incident.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having reached the mansion of Dashall, Sir Felix acquainted Tallyho with
      the success of his mission respecting the hand, as a partner, at the
      Mansion-house Ball, of the august descendant of the Kings of Ulster, the
      sage and venerable Miss Judith Macgilligan. "O, the beautiful <i>illustrissimo</i>!
      the sweet crature" exclaimed the baronet, "with commendable care of her
      virgin purity, and fair unsullied fame, is tenacious of etiquette, and
      insists that she shall be asked with all due form and respect, (after I
      have introduced your Squireship to the honour of her notice) at the
      Mansion-house. By my conscience, I believe she is in love with your
      character, and no doubt will prove desperately so with your person. Faith
      and troth now, she is both too young and too old for matrimony; too young,
      because she may live to torment you these twenty years to come, which is a
      penance no sprightly lad should voluntarily undergo for all her fortune;
      and too old, being in all respects disqualified by age, for the important
      object of marriage, which was instituted for the procreation of children."
    </p>
    <p>
      "My dear sir," rejoined the Squire, "immaculate may the lady remain in her
      person and property, I have no views on either."
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the powers of charity retract that 'stern decree,'" exclaimed the
      baronet, "would you break the heart of the love-sick nymph, by chilling
      indifference to the potency of her charms and the magnitude of her
      fortune? However, all joking apart, my good friends, will you do my aunt
      and your humble servant the honour of calling at our lodgings; we shall
      wait your coming and proceed together to the civic entertainment?" This
      was agreed to;&mdash;the baronet retired, and the two cousins having the
      best part of the day still before them, set out on a stroll to
      Tothill-fields Fair, with the view of ascertaining Real Life in
      Westminster, amongst the middle and lower orders of its extensive
      population.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[200]</span> Crossing St. James's Park, our two
      observers soon reached the scene of jollity. Here, as in all the fairs
      held in London, and its vicinity, was a vast assemblage of idlers,
      including both sexes and all ages. "They talk of the severity of the
      times," said Dashall, "and the distress of the lower orders of society; I
      cannot say, however, that I have witnessed any semblance of distress or
      privation amongst such in this metropolis to the extent represented,1 in
      the whole course of my observation. These fairs, for instance, more
      properly marts of iniquity, are crammed to excess; and in pursuit of low
      enjoyment there appears no deficiency of pecuniary means. In all these
      resorts of dissipation, not only the shows are filled with spectators, but
      the booths and neighbouring public-houses are crowded with male and female
      revellers."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Squire acquiesced in the correctness of his friend's remark, and both
      coincided in opinion that the regular daily public places of amusement in
      the metropolis afford ample opportunity for rational recreation,
      independent of the continuance of fairs, which have no other tendency than
      facilitating the progress of licentiousness.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall observed, that on the present occasion, in the midst of so much
      alleged distress,-the booths and shows of Tothill-fields Fair were much
      more extensive than in former years. "We must, however," said he,
      "although the evil continues, do the Magistrates the justice to say that
      they have acted meritoriously in preventing the erection of those
      dangerous machines named round-abouts, by which, at former fairs, many
      serious accidents were occasioned."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link3image-0007" id="link3image-0007">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page200.jpg" alt="Page200 Donkey Cart Race " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      While Ton and Bob were quizzing the costermongers and the Venuses, they in
      their turn were queered out of their wipes; thus another cogent argument
      was afforded as to the necessity of suppressing these nuisances, as being
      the rendezvous of infamy, and the harvest of depredation. The visitors
      appeared in all their glory, as elegant and boisterous as usual; the
      consumption of gin and gingerbread was apparently prodigious, and the
      great luxury amongst the fashionables was fried sausages and the bolting
      of oysters with sugar for wagers. Having lost their wipes, the two friends
      resolved at least to save <span class="pagenum">[201]</span> their
      tattlers; and having seen a sufficiency of Westminster jollification, they
      left the fair to those visitors who might better appreciate its enjoyment.
    </p>
    <p>
      Returning home, they were not encountered by farther mischance, and having
      shortly reached their destination, and dressed for the evening gala, a
      chariot was ordered, and they were set down at the lodgings of Sir Felix
      O'Grady.
    </p>
    <p>
      The baronet introduced his two friends to his aunt, with much affected
      form, and with an arch leer of expression, which, on an occasion of minor
      import, would have excited the risibility of Bob, but this was no laughing
      affair; the presentation therefore was conducted with all due solemnity,
      and Miss Judith Macgilligan received him with a maidenish diffidence and
      complacency, yet with the dignity becoming a descendant of O'Brien, King
      of Ulster.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having partaken of a slight repast, the party drove off, in the lady's
      temporary vehicle, and rattling rapidly along the streets, were in a very
      short time arrived at the Mansion-house. The company was select and
      elegant; the ladies particularly, might vie in splendour of ornament and
      fascination of personal charms, with first rate beauties of the west; and
      what gave the entertainment a superior zest above every other
      consideration, was the condescending affability of the Civic Queen, who
      received her numerous and delighted guests with a truly hospitable, yet
      dignified politeness; nor was there any deficiency on the part of her
      lord; all that the most excellent arrangements and the most minute
      attention could accomplish was done, to the entire gratification and
      comfort of the company.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Easter Amusements.&mdash;Mansion-house. The customary Easter
     Civic Dinner and Ball were given at the Mansion-house. A
     material alteration was effected in the entertainment upon
     this occasion, by considerably abridging the number of
     cards, which it was the practice hitherto to issue. The Lady
     Mayoress received the company before dinner in the ball
     room; in dis-charging which office her ladyship displayed
     much ease and elegance of manner. The company adjourned to
     the Egyptian Hall to dinner, at about half-past six o'clock.
     They consisted of Lord Viscount Sidmouth, the Earl of
     Shaftesbury, Mr. Peel, and some other members of the
     Ministry, the Lords Bishop of London and Landaff, and other
     church dignitaries; the Lords Chief Justices of England, and
     the Court of Common Pleas; the Vice Chancellor, several of
     the diplomatic corps, as well as the leading Members of the
     Senate and the Army, and other gentlemen of distinction, her
     Grace the Duchess of Rutland, and several ladies of rank, in
     all about three hundred and fifty individuals of both sexes.
     There were five tables laid out in the hall, which from
     being prettily ornamented with festoons of flowers attached
     to pillars along the centre of each, had an extremely
     picturesque appearance upon entering the room. After dinner
     the usual toasts were drank, and the respective parties
     present returned thanks. Messrs. Pyne, Broadhurst, and other
     professional gentle-men, sung several songs and glees in
     their happiest style. At a little after nine o'clock the
     Lady Mayoress and the ladies with-drew, and the gentlemen
     shortly afterwards rejoined them in the ball-room.

     At a little before ten o'clock, the ball-room was prepared,
     and in a short time the most distinguished of the guests
     repaired thither. The dresses of the ladies were in general
     particularly elegant. The ball was opened by two of the
     younger daughters of the Lord Mayor, Misses Ann and Harriett
     Magnay, who danced the minuet de la cour in so elegant and
     finished a manner, as elicited general approbation. The
     quadrilles were led off by the Duke de Cazes and Baron
     Langsdorff, and were continued with the greatest spirit
     throughout the night. The centre tables in the Egyptian Hall
     were removed for the accommodation of the company, but the
     side tables were retained, and refreshments served out from
     them in abundance.

     We believe that in the general participation of pleasure
     there existed one solitary exception only, in the person of
     Miss Judith Macgilligan. It unfortunately happened that an
     opportunity offered not for the display of her graces in the
     dance. She then became peevishly taciturn, complained of
     indisposition, and expressing a desire of returning home,
     the gentlemen consequently assented, and the party left the
     Mansion-house at an earlier hour than they had either
     anticipated or desired.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[203]</span> <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br /> <a name="link42HCH0001" id="link42HCH0001">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "All London is full of vagaries,
          Of bustle of splendour and show,
          At every turn the scene varies,
          Whether near, or still further we go.
          Each lane has a character in it,
          Each street has its pauper and beau:
          And such changes are making each minute,
          Scarce one from the other we know.
          The in and out turnings of life,
          Few persons can well understand;
          But in London the grand source of strife,
          Is of fortune to bear the command.
          Yet some who are high up to day,
          Acknowledged good sober and witty,
          May to-morrow be down in decay,
          In this great and magnanimous city."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[203]</span> "Apropos," said the Hon. Tom Dashall,
      laying down the Times newspaper after breakfast, "a fine opportunity is
      offered to us to day, for a peep at the Citizens of London in their
      Legislative Assembly, a Court of Common Council is announced for twelve
      o'clock, and I think I can promise you much of entertaining information,
      by paying a visit at Guildhall and its vicinity. We have several times
      passed it with merely taking a view of its exterior, but the interior is
      equally deserving of attention, particularly at a period when it is graced
      by the personages and appendages which constitute its state and dignity.
      London is generally spoken of as the first commercial city in the known
      world, and its legislators, as a corporate body, becomes a sort of
      rallying post for all others in the kingdom. We have plenty of time before
      us, and may lounge a little as we march along to amuse or refresh
      ourselves at leisure." "With all my heart," said Tallyho, "for I have
      heard much about the Lord Mayor, the Sword Bearer, and the Common Hunt,
      all in a bustle,&mdash;though I have never yet had an opportunity of
      seeing any of them."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[204]</span>"They are interesting subjects, I can
      assure you, so come along, we will take a view of these <i>Gogs</i> and <i>Magogs</i>
      of civic notoriety," and thus saying, they were quickly on the road for
      the city. The morning being fine, they took their way down St. James's
      Street, at the bottom of which their ears were attracted by the sounds of
      martial music approaching.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We have nicked the time nicely indeed," said Dashall, "and may now enjoy
      a musical treat, before we proceed to the oratorical one. The Guards in
      and about the Palace, are relieved every morning about this time, for
      which purpose they are usually mustered at the Horse-Guards, in the Park,
      where they are paraded in regular order, and then marched here. It forms a
      very pleasing sight for the cockney loungers, for those out of employ, and
      those who have little inclination to be employed; and you see the crowds
      that are hastening before them, in order to obtain admission to Palace
      Yard, before their arrival&mdash;let us join the throng; there is another
      detachment stationed there ready to receive them, and while they are
      relieving the men actually on duty, the two bands alternately amuse the
      officers and the bye-standers with some of the most admired Overtures and
      Military Airs."
    </p>
    <p>
      They now passed the gate, and quickly found themselves in a motley group
      of all descriptions, crowding to the seat of action, and pouring in from
      various avenues. Men, women, and children, half-drill'd drummers,
      bandy-legged fifers, and suckling triangle beaters, with bags of books and
      instruments in their hands to assist the band. The colours were mounted as
      usual on a post in the centre, the men drawn up in ranks, and standing at
      ease, while the officers were pacing backwards and forwards in the front,
      arm-in-arm with each other, relating the rencontres of the preceding day,
      or those in anticipation of the ensuing. This order of things was however
      quickly altered, as the relieving party entered, and at the word
      "attention," every officer was at his post, and the men under arms. Our
      friends now moved under the piazzas so as to be in the rear of the party
      who had the first possession, and after hearing with great admiration the
      delightful airs played by the two bands, which had been the principal
      object of attraction with them&mdash;they proceeded through the Park and
      reached Charing Cross, by the way of Spring Gardens.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[205]</span> "Zounds," said Tallyho, "this is a very
      unworthy entrance to a Royal Park."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Admitted, it is so," was the reply, "and a degradation to the splendid
      palace, I mean internally, which is so close to it, and which is the
      present residence of Majesty." They now proceeded without any thing
      further of consequence worthy of remark, till they reached
      Villiers-street.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Tom, "I perceive we shall have time to take a look at the
      world below as well as the world above; "when crossing into the Adelphi,
      and suddenly giving another turn, he entered what to Bob appeared a
      cavern, and in one moment was obscured from his sight.&mdash;"Hallo," said
      Tallyho, "where the devil are you leading me to?"&mdash;"Never mind," was
      the reply; "keep on the right side, and you are safe enough; but if you
      get into the centre, beware of the Slough of Despond&mdash;don't be
      afraid."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this assurance Bob groped his way along for a few paces, and at a
      distance could discover the glimmering of a lamp, which seemed but to make
      darkness more visible. Keeping his eye upon the light, and more engrossed
      with the idea of his own safety in such a place than any thing else, for
      he could neither conjecture where he was nor whence he was going, he
      presently came in violent contact with a person whom he could not see, and
      in a moment found himself prostrate on the ground.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hallo," cried a gruff voice, which sounded through the hollow arches of
      the place with sepulchral tone&mdash;"who the devil are you&mdash;why
      don't you mind where you go&mdash;you must not come here with your eyes in
      your pocket;" and at the same time he heard a spade dug into the earth,
      which almost inspired him with the idea that he should be buried alive.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Good God protect," (exclaimed Bob,) "where is Dashall&mdash;where am I?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Where are you&mdash;why you're in the mud to be sure&mdash;and for aught
      I know, Dashall and all the rest may be in the clouds; what business have
      you dashing here&mdash;we have enough of the Dandies above, without having
      them below&mdash;what have you lost your way, or have you been <i>nibbling</i>
      in the light, and want to hide yourself&mdash;eh?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[206]</span> "Neither, neither, I can assure you;
      but I have been led here, and my friend is on before."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, well, if that's the case, get up, and I'll hail him, &mdash;ey-ya-ap"&mdash;cried
      he, in a voice, which seemed like thunder to our fallen hero, and which
      was as quickly answered by the well known voice of his Cousin, who in a
      few minutes was at his elbow.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What now," vociferated Tom, "I thought I gave you instructions how to
      follow, and expected you was just behind me."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why for the matter of that," cried the unknown, "he was not before you,
      that's sartin; and he knocked himself down in the mud before ever I spoke
      to him, that's all I know about it&mdash;but he don't seem to understand
      the navigation of our parts."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I don't wonder at that," replied Tom; "for he was never here before in
      his life&mdash;but there is no harm done, is there?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "None," replied Bob; "all's right again now&mdash;so proceed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay," replied the unknown, "all's not right yet; for if as how this is
      your first appearance in the shades below, it is but fair you should come
      down."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Down," said Bob, "why I have been down&mdash;you knock'd me down."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, never mind, my master, I have set you on your pins again; and
      besides that, I likes you very well, for you're down as a hammer, and up
      again like a watch-box&mdash;but to my thinking a drap o'somut good would
      revive you a little bit; and I should like to drink with you&mdash;for you
      ought to pay your footing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And so he shall," continued Tom&mdash;"So come along, my lad."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time Bob had an opportunity of discovering that the person he had
      thus unfortunately encountered, was no other than a stout raw-boned
      coalheaver, and that the noise he had heard was occasioned by his sticking
      his pointed coal-shovel in the earth, with intention to help him up after
      his fall. Pursuing their way, and presently turning to the right, Bob was
      suddenly delighted by being brought from utter darkness into marvellous
      light, presenting a view of the river, with boats and barges passing and
      repassing with their usual activity.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What place is this?" inquired Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[207]</span> "Before you," replied his Cousin, "is
      the River Thames; and in the front you will find wharfs and warehouses for
      the landing and housing of various merchandize, such as coals, fruit,
      timber, &amp;c.: we are now under the Adelphi Terrace, where many elegant
      and fashionable houses are occupied by persons of some rank in society;
      these streets, lanes, and subterraneous passages, have been constructed
      for the convenience of conveying the various articles landed here into the
      main streets of the metropolis, and form as it were a little world under
      ground."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And no bad world neither," replied the coalheaver, who upon inspection
      proved to be no other than Bob Martlet, whom they had met with as one of
      the <i>heavy wet</i> party at Charley's Crib&mdash;"For there is many a
      family lives down here, and gets a good bit of bread too; what does it
      signify where a man gets his bread, if he has but an honest appetite to
      eat it with: aye, and though I say it, that house in the corner there,
      just down by the water's edge, can supply good stuff at all times to wash
      it down with, and that you know's the time of day, my master: this warm
      weather makes one <i>dryish</i> like, don't it?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom thought the hint dry enough, though Bob was declaring he was almost
      wet through; however, they took their road to the Fox under the Hill, as
      it is termed. On entering which a good fire presented itself, and Tallyho
      placed himself in front of it, in order to dry his clothes, while Bob
      Martlet was busy in inquiring of the landlord for a brush to give the
      gemman a wipe down, as, he observed, he had a sort of a trip up in these
      wild parts&mdash;though to be sure that there was no great wonder, for a
      gentleman who was near sighted, and didn't wear spectacles; "however,"
      continued he, "there an't no harm done; and so the gemman and I are going
      to drink together&mdash;arn't we, Sir?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho, who by this time had got well roasted by the fire-side, nodded
      his assent, and Dashall inquired what he would like.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[208]</span> "Why, my master, as for that, it's not
      much matter to me; a drap of sky blue in a boulter of barley,{1} with a
      dollop of sweet,{2} and a little saw dust,{3} is no bad thing according to
      my thinking; but Lord bless you! if so be as how a gemman like you offers
      to treat Bill Martlet,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 A boulter of barley&mdash;a drink&mdash;or a pot of porter.

     2 A dollop of sweet&mdash;sugar.

     3 Saw-dust&mdash;a cant term for ginger or nutmeg grated.
</pre>
    <p>
      why Bill Martlet never looks a gift horse in the mouth, you know, as the
      old saying is; but our landlord knows how to make such rum stuff, as I
      should like you to taste it&mdash;we call it hot, don't us, landlord?&mdash;Come,
      lend us hold of the brush?" "Ave, and brush up, Mr. Landlord," said the
      Hon. Tom Dashall; "let us have a taste of this nectar he's talking of, for
      we have not much time to stop."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Lord bless your eye sight," replied Martlet, "there an't no occasion
      whatsomdever for your honours to stay&mdash;if you'll only give the order,
      and push about the possibles, the business is all done. Come, shovel up
      the sensible," continued he to the landlord, "mind you give us the real
      double XX. I don't think your coat is any the worse, it would sarve me for
      a Sunday swell toggery for a twelve-month to come yet; for our dirt down
      here is as I may say clean dirt, and d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;me if I don't
      think it looks all the better for it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Thank you, my friend," said Bob; "that will do very well," and the
      landlord having by this time completed his cookery, produced the good
      stuff, as Martlet termed it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come, gentlemen, this is the real right sort, nothing but the bang-up
      article, arn't it, my master? But as I always likes the landlord to taste
      it first, by way of setting a good example, just be after telling us what
      you think of it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," said the landlord; who declared it was as prime a pot
      of hot as he had made for the last fortnight. .
    </p>
    <p>
      With this recommendation our friends tried it; and after tipping, took
      their departure, under the positive assurance of Martlet, that he should
      be very glad to see them again at any time.
    </p>
    <p>
      They now pursued their way through other subterraneous passages, where
      they met waggons, carts, and horses, apparently as actively and usefully
      employed as those above ground.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Tom, "we have suffered time to steal a inarch upon us," as
      they reached the Strand; "we will therefore take the first" <i>rattler</i>
      we can meet with, and make the best of our way for the City."&mdash;This
      was soon accomplished, and jumping into the coach, the old <i>Jarvey</i>
      was desired to drive them as expeditiously as possible to the corner of
      King-street, Cheapside.<span class="pagenum">[209]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0002" id="link42HCH0002">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "How wretched those who tasteless live,
          And say this world no joys can give:
          Why tempts yon turtle sprawling,
          Why smoaks the glorious haunch,
          Are these not joys still calling
          To bless our mortal paunch?
          O 'tis merry in the Hall
          When beards wag all,
          What a noise and what a din;
          How they glitter round the chin;
          Give me fowl and give me fish,
          Now for some of that nice dish;
          Cut me this, Sir, cut me that,
          Send me crust, and send me fat.
          Some for tit bits pulling hauling,

     Legs, wings, breast, head,&mdash;some for liquor, scolding, bawling,
     Hock, port, white, red, here 'tis cramming, cutting, slashing,
     There the grease and gravy splashing,
     Look, Sir, look, Sir, what you've done,
     Zounds, you've cut off the Alderman's thumb."
</pre>
    <p>
      The Hon. Tom Dashall, who was fully aware that City appointments for
      twelve o'clock mean one, was nevertheless anxious to arrive at their place
      of destination some time before the commencement of the business of the
      day; and fortunately meeting with no obstruction on the road, they were
      set down at the corner of King-street, about half-past twelve.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said he, "we shall now have time to look about us at leisure, and
      observe the beauties of this place of civic festivity. The Hall you see in
      front of you, is the place devoted to the entertainment usually given by
      the Lord Mayor on his entrance upon the duties and dignities of his
      office. It is a fine gothic building, in which the various courts of the
      city are held. The citizens also meet there for the purpose of choosing
      their representatives in Parliament, the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, &amp;c. It
      was originally built in the year 1411, previous to which period the
      public, or as they term it the Common Hall, was held at a small room in
      Aldermanbury.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[210]</span> The expense Of the building was
      defrayed by voluntary subscription, and its erection occupied twenty
      years. It was seriously damaged by the fire of 1666, since which the
      present edifice, with the exception of the new gothic front, has been
      erected. That, however, was not finished till the year 1789, and many
      internal improvements and decorations have been introduced since. There is
      not much of attraction in its outward appearance. That new building on the
      right has recently been erected for the accommodation of Meetings of
      Bankrupts; and on the left is the Justice-Room, where the Aldermen attend
      daily in rotation as magistrates to decide petty causes; but we must not
      exhaust our time now upon them."
    </p>
    <p>
      On entering the Hall, Tallyho appeared to be highly pleased with its
      extent, and was presently attracted by the monuments which it contains.
      "It is a noble room," said he.&mdash;"Yes," replied Tom, "this Hall is 153
      feet in length, 48 in breadth, and the height to the roof is 55." Tallyho
      was, however, more engaged in examining the monument erected to the memory
      of Lord Nelson, and an occasional glance at the two enormous figures who
      stand at opposites, on the left of the entrance.&mdash;Having read the
      tablet, and admired the workmanship of the former, he hastily turned to
      the latter. "And who in the name of wonder are these?" he inquired.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These," replied his communicative Cousin, "are called <i>Gog</i> and <i>Magog</i>.
      They are two ancient giants carved in wood, one holding a long staff
      suspending a ball stuck with pikes, and the other a halbert, supposed to
      be of great antiquity, and to represent an ancient Briton and a Saxon.
      They formerly used to stand on each side of that staircase which leads to
      the Chamberlain's Office, the Courts of King's Bench and Common Pleas, the
      Court of Aldermen, and the Common Council Chamber. At the other end are
      two fine monuments, to the memory of Lord Chatham, the father of Mr. Pitt,
      and his Son. The windows are fine specimens of the revived art of painting
      on glass. There is also a monument of Mr. Beckford."
    </p>
    <p>
      While they were taking a view of these several objects of curiosity, their
      attention was suddenly attracted by a confused noise and bustle at the
      door, which announced the arrival of the Lord Mayor and his attendants,
      who passed them in state, and were followed by our friends to the Council
      Chamber; on entering which, they were <span class="pagenum">[211]</span>
      directed by the City Marshall, who guarded the door, to keep below the
      bar. Tallyho gazed with admiration and delight on the numerous pictures
      with which the Chamber is decorated, as well as the ceiling, which forms,
      a dome, with a skylight in the centre. The Lord Mayor having first entered
      the Court of Aldermen, the business of the day had not yet commenced. Tom
      directed his Cousin's eye in the first instance to the very large and
      celebrated painting by Copley, which fronts the Lord Mayor's chair, and
      represents the destruction of the floating batteries before Gibraltar, to
      commemorate the gallant defence of that place by General Elliott,
      afterwards Lord Heath field, in 1782. The statue of the late King George
      the Third; the death of David Rizzio, by Opie; the miseries of Civil War,
      from Shakespeare; Domestic Happiness, exemplified in portraits of an
      Alderman and his family; the death of Wat Tyler; the representation of the
      Procession of the Lord Mayor to Westminster Hall, by water; and the
      ceremony of swearing in the Lord Mayor at Guildhall, in 1781; containing
      portraits of all the principal members of the Corporation of London at
      that time. Meanwhile the benches were filling with the Deputies and Common
      Councilmen from their several wards. At one o'clock, the Lord Mayor
      entered the Court, attended by several Aldermen, who took their seats
      around him, and the business of the day commenced. Among those on the
      upper seats, Tom gave his Cousin to understand which were the most popular
      of the Aldermen, and named in succession Messrs. Waithman, Wood, Sir
      Claudius Stephen Hunter, Birch, Flower, and Curtis; and as their object
      was not so much to hear the debates as to see the form and know the
      characters, he proposed an adjournment from their present rather
      uncomfortable situation, where they were obliged to stand wedged in, by
      the crowd continually increasing, during which they could take a few more
      observations, and he could give some little clue to the origin and present
      situations of the persons to whom he had directed his Cousin's attention.
      Making the best of their way out of the Court, they found themselves in an
      anti-room, surrounded by marshalmen, beadles of Wards waiting for their
      Aldermen, and the Lord Mayor's and Sheriffs' footmen, finding almost as
      much difficulty to proceed, as they had before encountered.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[212]</span> Having struggled through this
      formidable phalanx of judicial and state appendages,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said Dashall, "we shall be enabled to breathe again at liberty, and
      make our observations without fear; for where we have just quitted, there
      is scarcely any possibility of making a remark without having it snapped
      up by newspaper reporters, and retailers of anecdotes; here, however, we
      can indulge <i>ad libitum</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," replied Tallyho, "and having seen thus far, I am a little
      inquisitive to know more. I have, it is true, at times seen the names of
      the parties you pointed out to me in the daily prints, but a sight of
      their persons in their official stations excites stronger curiosity."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," said Tom, "according to promise I will give you a sort of brief
      sketch of some of them. The present Lord Mayor is a very eminent wholesale
      stationer, carrying on an extensive trade in Queen-street; he ought to
      have filled the chair before this, but some temporary circumstances
      relative to his mercantile concerns induced him to give up his rotation.
      He has since removed the obstacle, and has been elected by his
      fellow-citizens to the high and important office of Chief Magistrate. I
      believe he has not signalized himself by any remarkable circumstance, but
      he has the character of being a worthy man. Perhaps there are few in the
      Court of Aldermen who have obtained more deservedly the esteem of the
      Livery of London, than Alderman Waithman, whose exertions have long been
      directed to the correction of abuses, and who represented them as one of
      their members during the last Parliament, when he displaced the mighty
      Alderman Curtis. Waithman is of humble origin, and has, like many others
      of Civic notoriety, worked his way by perseverance and integrity as a
      linen-draper, to respectable independence, and the hearts of his
      fellow-citizens: he has served the office of Sheriff, and during that time
      acted with a becoming spirit at the death of the late Queen, by risking
      his own life to save others. His political sentiments are on the
      opposition side, consequently he is no favorite with ministers."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And if he were," replied Tallyho, "that would scarcely be considered an
      honour."
    </p>
    <p>
      "True," continued Tom, "but then it might lead to profit, as it has done
      with many others, though he appears to hold such very light.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[213]</span> "Alderman Wood has not yet been so
      fortunate as the celebrated Whittington, whom you may recollect was thrice
      Lord Mayor of London; but he has had the honour to serve that office
      during two succeeding years: he is a member of Parliament, and his
      exertions in behalf of the late Queen, if they have done him no great deal
      of good among the higher powers, are at least honourable to his heart.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Of Sir Claudius Stephen Hunter there is but little to be said, except
      that he has served the office, and been a Colonel of the City Militia&mdash;led
      off the ball at a Jew's wedding&mdash;used to ride a white charger&mdash;and
      is so passionately fond of military parade, that had he continued another
      year in the office, the age of chivalry would certainly have been revived
      in the East, and knights-errant and esquires have completely superseded
      merchants, traders, and shopkeepers.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Alderman Birch is an excellent pastry-cook, and that perhaps is the best
      thing that can be said of him: he has written some dramatic pieces; but
      the pastry is beyond all comparison best of the two, and he needs no other
      passport to fame, at least with his fellow-citizens.
    </p>
    <p>
      "But last, though not least, under our present consideration, comes the
      renowned Sir William, a plain bluff John Bull; he is said to be the son of
      a presbyterian citizen, and was rigidly educated in his father's religion.
      He obtained the alderman's gown, and represented the City in the year
      1790: he is a good natured, and, I believe, a good hearted man enough,
      though he has long been a subject for satirical wit. He was Lord Mayor in
      1796: you may recollect what was related of him by the literary labourer
      we met with in the Park&mdash;anecdotes and caricatures have been
      published in abundance upon him: he may, however, be considered in various
      points of view&mdash;as an alderman and a biscuit baker&mdash;as a
      fisherman "&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "How!" cried Tallyho!
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, as a fisherman, he is the Polyphemus of his time.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "His rod was made out of the strongest oak,
          His line a cable which no storm e'er broke,
          His hook was baited with a dragon's tail,
          He sat upon a rock and bobb'd for a whale."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Besides which," continued Dashall, "he is a great sailor; has a yacht of
      his own, and generally accompanies
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[214]</span> Royalty on aquatic excursions. I
      remember a laughable caricature, exhibiting the alderman in his own
      vessel, with a turtle suspended on a pole, with the following lines, in
      imitation of Black-eyed Susan, said to be written by Mr. Jekyll:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "All in the Downs the fleet lay moor'd,
          The streamers waving in the wind,
          When Castlereagh appeared on board,
          'Ah where shall I my Curtis find.
          Tell me ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
          Does my fat William sail among your crew.'"
</pre>
    <p>
      He is a banker, a loan-monger, and a contractor, a member of Parliament,
      and an orator; added to which, he may be said to be a man of wit and
      humour&mdash;at all events he is the cause of it in others. His first
      occupations have procured him great wealth, and his wit and humour great
      fame.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The worthy Alderman's hospitality to the late good humoured and gossiping
      James Boswell, the humble follower and biographer of Dr. Johnson, is well
      known; and it is probable that the pleasures of the table, in which no man
      more joyously engaged, shortened his life. To write the life of a great
      man is no easy task, and to write that of a big one may be no less
      arduous. Whether the Alderman really expected to be held up to future fame
      by the Biographer of Johnson, cannot be very easily ascertained; however
      that wish and expectation, if it ever existed, was completely frustrated
      by the death of poor Boswell.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I recollect to have seen some lines of the worthy Alderman, on the
      glorious victory of the Nile, which shew at once his patriotism, his wit,
      and his resolution, in that he is not to be laughed out of the memorable
      toast he once gave&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Great Nelson, in the grandest stile,
          Bore down upon the shores of Nile,
          And there obtained a famous victory,
          Which puzzled much the French Directory.
          The impudence of them there fellows,
          As all the newspapers do tell us,
          Had put the grand Turk in a pet,
          Which caus'd him send to Nelson an aigrette;
          Likewise a grand pelisse, a noble boon&mdash;
          Then let us hope&mdash;a speedy peace and soon."{1}

     1 Whether the following lines are from the same hand or not,
     we are unable to ascertain; at least they wear a great
     similarity of character:

          I give you the three glorious C's.

          Our Church, Constitution, and King;
          Then fill up three bumpers to three noble Vs.
          Wine,  Women, and  Whale fish-ing.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[215]</span> "Egad," said Bob, "if this be true, he
      appears to knock up rhymes almost as well as he could bake biscuits"
      (smothering a laugh.)
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why," replied Dashall, "I believe that it has not been positively
      ascertained that these lines, which unlike other poetry, contain no
      fiction, but plain and undeniable matter of fact, were wholly indicated by
      the worthy Alderman; indeed it is not impossible but that his worship's
      barber might have had a hand in their composition. It would be hard
      indeed, if in his operations upon the Alderman's pericranium, he should
      not have absorbed some of the effluvia of the wit and genius contained
      therein; and in justice to this operator on his chin and caput, I ought to
      give you a specimen which was produced by him upon the election of his
      Lordship to the Mayoralty&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Our present Mayor is William Curtis,
          A man of weight and that your sort is."
</pre>
    <p>
      "This epigrammatic distich, which cannot be said to be destitute of point,
      upon being read at table, received, as it deserved, a large share of
      commendation; and his Lordship declared to the company present, that it
      had not taken his barber above three hours to produce it extempore."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho laughed heartily at these satirical touches upon the poor
      Alderman.
    </p>
    <p>
      "However," continued Tom, "a man with plenty of money can bear laughing
      at, and sometimes laughs at himself, though I suspect he will hardly laugh
      or produce a laugh in others, by what he stated in his seat in the House
      of Commons, on the subject of the riots{1} at Knightsbridge. I suspect his
      wit and good humour will hardly protect him in that instance."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 On a motion made by Mr. Favell in the Court of Common
     Council, on the 21st of March, the following resolution was
     passed, indicative of the opinion that Court entertained of
     the conduct of Alderman Curtis on the occasion here alluded
     to:

     "That Sir William Curtis, Bart, having acknowledged in his
     place in this Court, that a certain speech now read was
     delivered by him in the House of Commons, in which, among
     other matters which he stated respecting the late riot at
     Knightsbridge, he said, 'That he had been anxious that a
     Committee should investigate this question, because he
     wished to let the world know the real character of this
     Great Common Council, who were always meddling with matters
     which they had nothing to do with, and which were far above
     their wisdom and energy. It was from such principles they
     had engaged in the recent inquiry, which he would contend
     they had no right to enter upon. Not only was evidence
     selected, but questions were put to draw such answers as the
     party putting them desired.'

     "That the conduct of Sir William Curtis, one of the repre-
     sentatives of this City in Parliament, lias justly merited
     the censure and indignation of this Court and of his fellow
     Citizens."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[216]</span> After taking a cursory look into the
      Chamberlain's Office, the Court of King's Bench and Common Pleas, they
      took their departure from Guildhall, very well satisfied with their
      morning's excursion.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was between three and four o'clock when our friends left the Hall. Tom
      Dashalt, being upon the qui vive, determined to give his Cousin a chevy
      for the remainder of the day; and for this purpose, it being on a Friday,
      he proposed a stroll among the Prad-sellers in Smithfield, where, after
      partaking of a steak and a bottle at Dolly's, they accordingly repaired.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You will recollect," said Tom, "that you passed through Smithfield (which
      is our principal cattle market) during the time of Bartholomew Fair; but
      you will now find it in a situation so different, that you would scarcely
      know it for the same place: you will now see it full of horse-jockeys,
      publicans, pugilists, and lads upon the lark like ourselves, who having no
      real business either in the purchase or sale of the commodities of the
      market, are watching the manners and manouvres of those who have."
    </p>
    <p>
      As Tom was imparting this piece of information to his attentive Cousin,
      they were entering Smithfield by the way of Giltspur-street, and were met
      by a man having much the appearance of a drover, who by the dodging
      movements of his stick directly before their eyes, inspired our friends so
      strongly with the idea of some animal being behind them which they could
      not see, and from which danger was to be apprehended, that they suddenly
      broke from each other, and fled forward for safety, at which a roar of
      laughter ensued from the byestanders, who <span class="pagenum">[217]</span>
      perceiving the hoax, recommended the dandies to take care they did not
      dirty their boots, or get near the hoofs of the <i>prancing prads</i>, Tom
      was not much disconcerted at this effort of practical jocularity, though
      his Cousin seemed to have but little relish for it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come along," said Tom, catching him by the arm, and impelling him
      forward, "although this is not Bartholomew Fair time, you must consider
      all fair at the horse-fair, unless you are willing to put up with a
      horse-laugh."
    </p>
    <p>
      Struggling through crowds who appeared to be buying, selling, or
      bargaining for the lame, the broken winded, and spavined prads of various
      sizes, prices, and pretensions,
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is little difference," said Tom, "between this place as a market
      for horses, and any similar mart in the kingdom,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Here the friend and the brother
          Meet to humbug each other,
</pre>
    <p>
      except that perhaps a little more refinement on the arts of gulling may be
      found; and it is no very uncommon thing for a stolen nag to be offered for
      sale in this market almost before the knowledge of his absence is
      ascertained by the legal owner.&mdash;I have already given you some
      information on the general character of horse-dealers during our visit to
      Tattersal's; but every species of trick and low chicanery is practised, of
      which numerous instances might be produced; and though I admit good horses
      are sometimes to be purchased here, it requires a man to be perfectly upon
      his guard as to who he deals with, and how he deals, although the
      regulations of the market are, generally speaking, good."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I wouldn't have him at no price," said a costermonger, who it appeared
      was bargaining for a donkey; "the h&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;y sulkey b&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;
      von't budge, he's not vorth a fig out of a horses&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I knows better as that 'are," cried a chimney-sweeper; "for no better
      an't no vare to be had; he's long backed and strong legged. Here, Bill,
      you get upon him, and give him rump steaks, and he'll run like the devil
      a'ter a parson."
    </p>
    <p>
      Here Bill, a little blear-eyed chimney-sweeper, mounted the poor animal,
      and belaboured him most unmercifully, without producing any other effect
      than kicking up behind, and most effectually placing poor Bill in the
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[218]</span> mud, to the great discomfiture of the
      donkey seller, and the mirth of the spectators. The animal brayed, the
      byestanders laughed, and the bargain, like poor Bill, was off.
    </p>
    <p>
      After a complete turn round Smithfield, hearing occasionally the chaffing
      of its visitants, and once or twice being nearly run over, they took their
      departure from this scene of bustle, bargaining, and confusion, taking
      their way down King-street, up Holborn Hill, and along Great Queen-street.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said Tom, "we will have a look in at Covent Garden Theatre; the
      Exile is produced there with great splendour. The piece is certainly got
      up in a style of the utmost magnificence, and maintains its ground in the
      theatre rather upon that score than its really interesting dialogue,
      though some of the scenes are well worked up, and have powerful claims
      upon approbation. The original has been altered, abridged, and (by some
      termed) amended, in order to introduce a gorgeous coronation, a popular
      species of entertainment lately."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon entering the theatre, Tallyho was almost riveted in attention to the
      performance, and the latter scene closed upon him with all its splendid
      pageantry before he discovered that his Cousin had given him the slip, and
      a dashing cyprian of the first order was seated at his elbow, with whom
      entering into a conversation, the minutes were not measured till Dashall's
      return, who perceiving he was engaged, appeared inclined to retire, and
      leave the cooing couple to their apparently agreeable tete-a-tete. Bob,
      however, observing him, immediately wished his fair incognita good night,
      and joined his Cousin.
    </p>
    <p>
      "D&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d dull," said Tom,&mdash;"all weary, stale, flat,
      and unprofitable."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But very grand," rejoined Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have found nothing to look at," replied Tom; "I have hunted every part
      of the House, and only seen two persons I know."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And I," said Tallyho, "have been all the while looking at the piece."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Which piece do you mean, the one beside you, or the one before you?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "The performance&mdash;The Coronation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have had so much of that," said Tom, "that finding you so close in
      attention to the stage, that I could get no <span class="pagenum">[219]</span>
      opportunity of speaking to you, I have been hunting for other game, and
      have almost wearied myself in the pursuit without success; so that I am
      for quitting the premises, and making a call at a once celebrated place
      near at hand, which used to be called the Finish. Come along, therefore,
      unless you have 'mettle more attractive;' perhaps you have some
      engagements?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "None upon earth to supersede the one I have with you," was the reply.
      Upon which they left the House, and soon found themselves in Covent Garden
      Market. "This," said Tom, "has been the spot of many larks and sprees of
      almost all descriptions, ana election wit has been as cheap in the market
      as any of the vegetables of the venders; but I am going to take you to a
      small house that has in former times been the resort of the greatest wits
      of the age. Sheridan, Fox, and others of their time, have not disdained to
      be its inmates, nor is it now deserted by the votaries of genius, though
      considerably altered, and conducted in a different manner: it still,
      however, affords much amusement and accommodation. It was formerly well
      known by the appellation of the <i>Finish</i>, and was not opened till a
      late hour in the night, and, as at the present moment, is generally shut
      up between 11 and 12 o'clock, and re-opened for the accommodation of the
      market people at 4 in the morning. The most respectable persons resident
      in the neighbourhood assemble to refresh themselves after the labours of
      the day with a glass of ale, spirits, or wine, as they draw no porter. The
      landlord is a pleasant fellow enough, and there is a pretty neat dressing
      young lass in the bar, whom I believe to be his sister&mdash;this is the
      house."
    </p>
    <p>
      "House," said Bob, "why this is a deviation from the customary buildings
      of London; it appears to have no up stairs rooms."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind that," continued Dashall, "there is room enough for us, I dare
      say; and after your visit to the Woolpack, I suppose you can stand smoke,
      if you can't stand fire."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had entered the Carpenter's Arms, when turning short
      round the bar, they found themselves in a small room, pretty well filled
      with company, enjoying their glasses, and puffing their pipes: in the
      right hand corner sat an undertaker, who having just obtained a victory
      over his opposite neighbour, was humming a stave <span class="pagenum">[220]</span>
      to himself indicative of his satisfaction at the result of the contest,
      which it afterwards appeared was for two mighty's;{1} while his opponent
      was shrugging up his shoulders with a feeling of a very different kind.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It's of no use," said Jemmy,{2} as they called him, "for you to enter the
      lists along with me, for you know very well I must have you at last."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And no doubt it will prove a good fit," said an elderly shoemaker of
      respectable appearance, who seemed to command the reverence of the
      company, "for all of us are subject to the <i>pinch</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There's no certainty of his assertion, however," replied the unsuccessful
      opponent of Jemmy.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Surely not,"{3} said another most emphatically, taking a pinch of snuff,
      and offering it to the shoemaker; "for you know Jemmy may come to the
      finch before John."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 "Mighty."&mdash;This high sounding title has recently been
     given to a full glass of ale,&mdash;the usual quantity of what is
     termed a glass being half a pint, generally supplied in a
     large glass which would hold more&mdash;and which when filled is
     consequently subjected to an additional charge.

     2 To those who are in the habit of frequenting the house,
     this gentleman will immediately be known, as he usually
     smokes his pipe there of an afternoon and evening.

     "With his friend and his pipe puffing sorrow away, And with
     honest old stingo still soaking his clay."

     With a certain demonstration before him of the mortality of
     human life, he deposits the bodies of his friends and
     neighbours in the earth, and buries the recollection of them
     in a cloud, determined, it should seem, to verify the words
     of the song, that

     "The right end of life is to live and be jolly."

     His countenance and manners seldom fail to excite
     risibility, not-withstanding the solemnity of his calling,
     and there can be little doubt but he is the finisher of
     many, after the Finish; he is, however, generally good
     humoured, communicative, and facetious, and seldom refuses
     to see any person in company for a mighty, usually
     concluding the result with a mirthful ditty, or a doleful
     countenance, according to the situation in which he is left
     as a winner or a loser; and in either case accompanied with
     a brightness of visage, or a dull dismal countenance,
     indicative of the event, which sets description at defiance,
     and can only be judged of by being seen.

     3 "Surely not," are words in such constant use by one
     gentleman who is frequently to be met in this room, that the
     character alluded to can scarcely be mistaken: he is partial
     to a pinch of snuff, but seldom carries a box of his own. He
     is a resident in the neighbour-hood, up to snuff, and
     probably, like other men, sometimes snuffy; this, however,
     without disparagement to his general character, which is
     that of a respectable tradesman.    He is fond of a lark, a
     bit of gig, and an argument; has a partiality for good
     living, a man of feeling, and a dealer in felt, who wishes
     every one to wear the cap that fits him.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[221]</span> "Never mind," continued Jemmy, "I take
      my chance in this life, and sing <i>toll de roll loll</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time our friends, being supplied with mighties, joined in the
      laugh which was going round at the witty sallies of the speakers.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is possible I may go first," said the undertaker, resuming his pipe;
      "and if I should, I can't help it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Surely not,&mdash;but I tell you what, Jemmy, if you are not afraid, I'll
      see you for two more mighties before I go, and I summons you to shew
      cause."
    </p>
    <p>
      "D&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;n your summons,"{1} cried the former unsuccessful
      opponent of the risible undertaker, who at the word summons burst into a
      hearty laugh, in which he was immediately joined by all but the last
      speaker.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The summons is a sore place," said Jemmy.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Surely not. I did not speak to him, I spoke to you, Sir; and I have a
      right to express myself as I please: if that gentleman has an antipathy to
      a summons, am I to be tongue-tied? Although he may sport with sovereigns,
      he must be accountable to plebeians; and if I summons you to shew cause, I
      see no reason why he should interrupt our conversation."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 "D&mdash;&mdash;-n your summons." This, as one of the company
     afterwards remarked, was a sore place, and uttered at a
     moment when the irritation was strong on the affected part.
     The speaker is a well known extensive dealer in the pottery,
     Staffordshire, and glass line, who a short time since in a
     playful humour caught a sovereign, tossed up by another
     frequenter of the room, and passed it to a third. The
     original possessor sought restitution from the person who
     took the sovereign from his hand, but was referred to the
     actual possessor, but refused to make the application. The
     return of the money was formally demanded of the man of
     porcelain, pitchers, and pipkins, without avail. In this
     state of things the loser obtained a summons against the
     taker, and the result, as might be expected, was compulsion
     to restore the lost sovereign to the loving subject,
     together with the payment of the customary expenses, a
     circumstance which had the effect of causing great anger in
     the mind of the dealer in brittle wares. Whether he broke
     any of the valuable articles in his warehouse in consequence
     has not been ascertained, but it appears for a time to have
     broken a friendship between the parties concerned: such
     breaches, however, are perhaps easier healed than broken or
     cracked crockery.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[222]</span> "Surely not," was reverberated round
      the room, accompanied with a general laugh against the interrupter, who
      seizing the paper, appeared to read without noticing what was passing.
    </p>
    <p>
      The company was now interrupted by the entrance of several strangers, and
      our two friends departed on their return homeward for the evening.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0003" id="link42HCH0003">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Roam where you will, o'er London's wide domains,
          The mind new source of various feeling gains;
          Explore the giddy town, its squares, its streets,
          The 'wildered eye still fresh attraction greets;
          Here spires and towers in countless numbers rise,
          And lift their lofty summits to the skies;
          Wilt thou ascend? then cast thine eyes below,
          And view the motley groupes of joy and woe:
          Lo! they whom Heaven with affluence hath blest,
          Scowl with cold contumely on those distrest;
          And Pleasure's maze the wealthy caitiffs thread,
          While care-worn Merit asks in vain for bread;
          Yet short their weal or woe, a general doom
          On all awaits,&mdash;oblivion in the tomb!"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[223]</span> Our heros next morning determined on a
      visit to their Hibernian friend and his aunt, whom they found had not yet
      forgot the entertainment at the Mansion-house, and which still continued
      to be the favorite topic of conversation. Sir Felix expressed his
      satisfaction that the worthy Citizens of London retained with increasing
      splendor their long established renown of pre-eminent distinction in the
      art of good living.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And let us hope," said Dashall, "that they will not at any future period
      be reduced to the lamentable necessity of restraining the progress of
      epicurism, as in the year 1543, when the Lord Mayor and Common Council
      enacted a sumptuary law to prevent luxurious eating; by which it was
      ordered, that the Mayor should confine himself to seven, Aldermen and
      Sheriffs to six, and the Sword-bearer to four dishes at dinner or supper,
      under the penalty of forty shillings for each supernumerary dish!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "A law," rejoined the Baronet, "which voluptuaries of the present times
      would find more difficult of observance than any enjoined by the
      decalogue."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Squire suggested the expediency of a similar enactment, with a view to
      productive results; for were the <span class="pagenum">[224]</span>
      wealthy citizens (he observed) prohibited the indulgence of luxurious
      eating, under certain penalties, the produce would be highly beneficial to
      the civic treasury.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Fine Arts claiming a priority of notice, the party determined on
      visiting a few of the private and public Exhibitions.
    </p>
    <p>
      London is now much and deservedly distinguished for the cultivation of the
      fine arts. The commotions on the continent operated as a hurricane on the
      productions of
    </p>
    <p>
      genius, and the finest works of ancient and modern times ave been removed
      from their old situations to the asylum afforded by the wooden walls of
      Britain. Many of them have, therefore, been consigned to this country, and
      are now in the collections of our nobility and gentry, chiefly in and
      about the metropolis.
    </p>
    <p>
      Although France may possess the greatest number of the larger works of the
      old masters, yet England undoubtedly possesses the greatest portion of
      their first-rate productions, which is accounted for by the great painters
      exerting all their talents on such pictures as were not too large to be
      actually painted by their own hands, while in their larger works they
      resorted to inferior assistance. Pictures, therefore, of this kind, being
      extremely valuable, and at the same time portable, England, during the
      convulsions on the Continent, was the only place where such paintings
      could obtain a commensurate price. Such is the wealth of individuals in
      this country, that some of these pictures now described, belonging to
      private collections, were purchased at the great prices of ten and twelve
      thousand guineas each.
    </p>
    <p>
      Amongst the many private collections of pictures, statues, &amp;c. in the
      metropolis, that of the Marquis of Stafford, called the Cleveland Gallery,
      is the most prominent, being the finest collection of the old masters in
      England, and was principally selected from the works that formerly
      composed the celebrated Orleans Gallery, and others, which at the
      commencement of the French revolution were brought to this country.
      Thither, then, our tourists directed their progress, and through the
      mediation of Dashall access was obtained without difficulty.
    </p>
    <p>
      The party derived much pleasure in the inspection of this collection,
      which contains two or three fine pictures of Raphael, several by Titian
      and the Caracas, some <span class="pagenum">[225]</span> capital
      productions of the Dutch and Flemish schools, and some admirable
      productions of the English school, particularly two by Wilson, one by
      Turner, and one by Vobson, amounting, in the whole, to 300 first-rate
      pictures by the first masters, admirably distributed in the new gallery,
      the drawing-room, the Poussin room (containing eight chef d'oeuvres of
      that painter), the passage-room, dining-room, old anti-room, old gallery,
      and small room. The noble proprietor has liberally appropriated one day in
      the week for the public to view these pictures. The curiosity of.the
      visitors being now amply gratified, they retired, Sir Felix much pleased
      with the polite attention of the domestic who conducted them through the
      different apartments, to whom Miss Macgilligan offered a gratuity, but the
      acceptance of which was, with courteous acknowledgments, declined.
    </p>
    <p>
      Proceeding to the house of Mr. Angerstein, Pall Mall, our party obtained
      leave to inspect a collection, not numerous, but perhaps the most select
      of any in London, and which has certainly been formed at the greatest
      expense in proportion to its numbers. Among its principal ornaments are
      four of the finest landscapes by Claude; the Venus and Adonis, and the
      Ganymede, by Titian, from the Colonna palace at Rome; a very fine
      landscape by Poussin, and other works by Velasquez, Rubens, Murillo, and
      Vandyck: to all which is added the invaluable series of Hogarth's
      Marriage-a-la-mode.
    </p>
    <p>
      Returning along Pall-Mall, our perambulators now reached the Gallery of
      the British Institution; a Public Exhibition, established in the year
      1805, under the patronage of his late Majesty, for the encouragement and
      reward of the talents of British artists, exhibiting during half of the
      year a collection of the works of living artists for sale; and during the
      other half year, it is furnished with pictures painted by the most
      celebrated masters, for the study of the academic and other pupils in
      painting. The Institution, now patronised by his present Majesty, is
      supported by the subscriptions of the principal nobility and gentry, and
      the number of pictures sold under their influence is very considerable.
      The gallery was first opened on April 17, 1806.
    </p>
    <p>
      In 1813, the public were gratified by a display of the best works of Sir
      Joshua Reynolds, collected by the industry and influence of the committee,
      from the private <span class="pagenum">[226]</span> collections of the
      royal family, nobility, and gentry; and in 1814, by a collection of 221
      pictures of those inimitable painters, Hogarth, Gainsborough, and
      Wilson.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 That the Fine Arts engaged not a little of the attention
     of the British Public during the late reign, is a fact too
     notorious to require proof. The establishment of the Royal
     Academy, in 1768, and its consequent yearly Exhibitions,
     awakened the observation or stimulated the vanity of the
     easy and the affluent, of the few who had taste, and of the
     many who were eager to be thought the possessors of it, to a
     subject already honoured by the solicitude of the sovereign.
     A considerable proportion of the public was thus induced to
     talk of painting and painters, and to sit for a portrait
     soon became the fashion; a fashion, strange to say, which
     has lasted ever since. Whether the talents of Sir Joshua
     Reynolds as a painter, were alone the cause of his high
     reputation, may, however, admit of a doubt. From an early
     period of life, he had the good fortune to be associated in
     friendship with several of the most eminent literary
     characters of the age; amongst whom there were some whose
     high rank and personal consequence in the country greatly
     assisted him to realize one leading object which he had in
     view, that of uniting in himself (perhaps for the first time
     in the person of an English painter) the artist and the man
     of fashion. From his acknowledged success in the attainment
     of this object, tending as it did to the subversion of
     ancient prejudices degrading to art, what beneficial effects
     might not have resulted, had the President exerted his
     influence to sustain the dignity of the artist in others!
     But satisfied with the place in society which he himself had
     gained, he left the rest of the Academy to follow his
     example, if they could, seldom or never mixing with them in
     company, and contenting himself with the delivery of an
     annual lecture to the students. Genius is of spontaneous
     growth, but education, independence, and never-ceasing
     opportunity, are necessary to its full developement.
</pre>
    <p>
      Since then they have regularly two annual exhibitions; one, of the best
      works of the old masters, for the improvement of the public taste, and
      knowledge of the artists, varied by some of the deceased British artists,
      alternately with that on their old plan of the exhibition and sale of the
      works of living artists.
    </p>
    <p>
      The directors of this laudable Institution have also exhibited and
      procured the loan for study, of one or two of the inimitable cartoons of
      Raphael for their students. An annual private exhibition of their studies
      also takes place yearly; the last of which displayed such a degree of
      merit as no society or academy in Europe could equal.
    </p>
    <p>
      Sir Felix, who on a former occasion had expressed a wish to acquire the
      art of verse-writing, was so much satisfied with his inspection of this
      exhibition, that he <span class="pagenum">[227]</span>became equally
      emulous of attaining the sister-art of painting; but Dashall requested him
      to suspend at present his choice, as perhaps he might alternately prefer
      the acquisition of music.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In that case," rejoined the Baronet, "I must endeavour to acquire the
      knack of rhyming extempore, that I may accompany the discordant music with
      correspondent doggerels to the immortal memory of the heroic achievements
      of my revered Aunt's mighty progenitor&mdash;O'Brien king of Ulster."
    </p>
    <p>
      This expression of contempt cast by the Baronet on the splendor of the
      ancient provincial sovereign of the north, had nearly created an open
      rupture between his aunt and him. Tallyho, however, happily succeeded in
      effecting an amnesty for the past, on promise under his guarantee of
      amendment for the future.
    </p>
    <p>
      The party now migrated by Spring Garden Gate into the salubrious regions
      of St. James's Park, and crossing its eastern extremity, took post of
      observation opposite the Horse Guards, an elegant building of stone, that
      divides Parliament-street from St. James's Park, to which it is the
      principal entrance. The architect was Ware, and the building cost upwards
      of £30,000. It derives its name from the two regiments of Life Guards
      (usually called the Horse Guards) mounting guard there.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here is transacted," said Dashall, "all the business of the British army
      in a great variety of departments, consisting of the Commander-in-Chief's
      Office,&mdash;the Offices of the Secretary-at-War,&mdash;the
      Adjutant-General's Office,&mdash;the Quarter-Master-General's Office,&mdash;besides
      the Orderly Rooms for the three regiments of Foot Guards, whose arms are
      kept here. These three regiments, containing about 7000 men, including
      officers, and two regiments of Horse Guards, consisting together of 1200
      men, at once serve as appendages to the King's royal state, and form a
      general military establishment for the metropolis. A body called the
      Yeomen of the Guard, consisting of 100 men, remains a curious relic of the
      dress of the King's guards in the fifteenth century. Some Light Horse are
      stationed at the Barracks in Hyde Park, to attend his Majesty, or other
      members of the Royal Family, chiefly in travelling; and to do duty on
      occasions immediately connected with the King's administration.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[228]</span> "On the left is the Admiralty
      (anciently Wallingford House), containing the offices and apartments of
      the Lords Commissioners who superintend the marine department of this
      mighty empire.
    </p>
    <p>
      "On the right is the Treasury and Secretary of State's Offices. Here, in
      fact, is performed the whole State business of the British Empire. In one
      building is directed the movements of those fleets, whose thunders rule
      every sea, and strike terror into every nation. In the centre is directed
      the energies of an army, hitherto invincible in the field, and which,
      number for number, would beat any other army in the world. Adjoining are
      the executive departments with relation to civil and domestic concerns, to
      foreign nations, and to our exterior colonies. And to finish the groupe,
      here is that wonderful Treasury, which receives and pays above a hundred
      millions per annum."
    </p>
    <p>
      Entering Parliament-street from the Horse-Guards, our perambulators now
      proceeded to Westminster-bridge,{1} which passing, they paid a visit to
      Coade and Sealy's Gallery of Artificial Stone, Westminster-bridge-road.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Westminster Bridge. This bridge was built between the
     years 1730 and 1750, and cost £389,000. It is 1223 feet
     long, and 44 feet wide; containing 14 piers, and 13 large
     and two small semicircular arches; and has on its top 28
     semi-octangular towers, twelve of which are covered with
     half domes. The two middle piers contain each 3000 solid
     feet, or 200 tons of Portland stone. The middle arch is 76
     feet wide, the two next 72 feet, and the last 25 feet. The
     free-water way between the piers is 870 feet. This bridge is
     esteemed one of the most beautiful in the world. Every part
     is fully and properly supported, and there is no false
     bearing or false joint throughout the whole structure; as a
     remarkable proof of which, we may quote the extraordinary
     echo of its corresponding towers, a person in one being able
     to hear the whispers of a person opposite, though at the
     distance of nearly 50 feet.
</pre>
    <p>
      This place contains a great variety of elegant models from the antique and
      modern masters, of statues, busts, vases, pedestals, monuments,
      architectural and sculptural decorations, modelled and baked on a
      composition harder and more durable than any stone.
    </p>
    <p>
      Animadverting on the utility of this work combining the taste of elegance
      with the advantage of permanent wear, the two friends, Tom and Bob,
      recollected having seen, in their rambles through the metropolis, many
      specimens of the perfection of this ingenious art, particularly at
      Carlton-House, the Pelican Office, Lombard-street, and almost all the
      public halls. The statues of the four <span class="pagenum">[229]</span>quarters
      of the world, and others at the Bank, at the Admiralty, Trinity House,
      Tower-hill, Somerset-place, the Theatres; and almost every street presents
      objects, (some of 20 years standing,) as perfect as when put up.
    </p>
    <p>
      Retracing their steps homewards, our pedestrians again crossed the Park,
      and finding themselves once more in Spring Gardens, entered the Exhibition
      Rooms of the Society of Painters in Water Colours.
    </p>
    <p>
      This, beyond any other gratification of the morning, pleased the party the
      most. The vivid tints of the various well-executed landscapes had a
      pleasing effect, and wore more the appearance of nature than any similar
      display of the fascinating art which they had hitherto witnessed.
    </p>
    <p>
      This Society, which was formed in 1804, for the purpose of giving due
      emphasis to an interesting branch of art that was lost in the blaze of
      Somerset-House, where water-colours, however beautiful, harmonized so
      badly with paintings in oil, has, in its late exhibitions, deviated from
      its original and legitimate object, and has mixed with its own exquisite
      productions various pictures in oil.
    </p>
    <p>
      The last annual exhibition of painting in oil and water colours, was as
      brilliant and interesting as any former one, and afforded unmixed pleasure
      to every visitor.
    </p>
    <p>
      One more attraction remained in Spring Gardens, which Tom, who had all the
      morning very ably performed the double duty of conductor and explainer,
      proposed the company's visiting;&mdash;"That is," said he, "Wigley's
      Promenade Rooms, where are constantly on exhibition various objects of
      curiosity."
    </p>
    <p>
      Thither then they repaired, and were much pleased with two very
      extraordinary productions of ingenuity, the first Mr. Theodon's grand
      Mechanical and Picturesque Theatre, illustrative of the effect of art in
      imitation of nature, in views of the Island of St. Helena, the City of
      Paris, the passage of Mount St. Barnard, Chinese artificial fireworks, and
      a storm at sea. The whole was conducted on the principle of perspective
      animation, in a manner highly picturesque, natural, and interesting.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here also our party examined the original model of a newly invented
      travelling automaton, a machine which can, with ease and accuracy, travel
      at the rate of six miles an hour, ascend acclivities, and turn the
      narrowest corners, by machinery only, conducted by one of the persons
      seated within, without the assistance of either horse or steam.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[230]</span> This extraordinary piece of mechanism
      attracted the particular attention of the Baronet, who minutely explored
      its principles, with the view, as he said, of its introduction to general
      use, in the province of Munster, in substitution of ricketty jaunting-cars
      and stumbling geldings. Miss Judith Macgilligan likewise condescended to
      honour this novel carriage with her approbation, as an economical
      improvement, embracing, with its obvious utility, a vast saving in the
      keep of horses, and superseding the use of jaunting-cars, the universal
      succedaneum, in Ireland, for more respectable vehicles; but which, she
      added, no lady of illustrious ancestry should resort to.
    </p>
    <p>
      This endless recurrence to noble descent elicited from Sir Felix another
      "palpable hit;" who observed, that those fastidious dames of antiquity, to
      whatever country belonging, of apparent asperity to the present times,
      would do well in laying aside unfounded prejudices; that the age to which
      Miss Macgilligan so frequently alluded, was one of the most ignorant
      barbarism; and the unpolished females of that day unequal to a comparison
      with those of the present, as much so, as the savage squaws of America
      with the finished beauties of an Irish Vicegerent's drawing-room.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The pride of ancestry, although prevalent in Ireland, is
     not carried to the preposterous excess exemplified by
     Cambrian vanity and egotism. A gentleman lately visited a
     friend in Wales, who, among other objects of curiosity,
     gratified his guest with the inspection of his family
     genealogical tree, which, setting at naught the minor
     consideration of antediluvian research, bore in its centre
     this notable inscription,&mdash;About this time the world was
     created!!!
</pre>
    <p>
      Re-entering St. James's Park, our party directed their course towards the
      Mall, eastward of which they were agreeably amused by the appearance of
      groupes of children, who, under the care of attendant nursery maids, were
      regaling themselves with milk from the cow, thus presenting to these
      delighted juveniles a rural feast in the heart of the metropolis.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[231]</span> Here Dashall drew the attention of his
      friends to a very important improvement. "Until within these few months,"
      said he, "the Park at night-fall presented a very sombre aspect; being so
      imperfectly lighted as to encourage the resort of the most depraved
      characters of both sexes; and although, in several instances, a general
      caption, by direction of the police, was made of these nocturnal
      visitants, yet the evil still remained; when a brilliant remedy at last
      was found, by entirely irradiating the darkness hitherto so favourable to
      the career of licentiousness: these lamps, each at a short distance from
      the other, have been lately introduced; stretching along the Mall, and
      circumscribing the Park, they shed a noon-tide splendor on the solitude of
      midnight. They are lighted with gas, and continue burning from sunset to
      day-break, combining ornament with utility. Thus vice has been banished
      from her wonted haunts, and the Park has become a respectable evening
      promenade.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This Park," continued the communicative Dashall, "which is nearly two
      miles in circuit, was enclosed by King Charles II., who planted the
      avenues, made the Canal and the Aviary adjacent to the Bird-cage Walk,
      which took its name from the cages hung in the trees; but the present fine
      effect of the piece of ground within the railing, is the fruit of the
      genius of the celebrated Mr. Brown."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 St. James's Park was the frequent promenade of King
     Charles II. Here he was to be seen almost daily; unattended,
     except by one or two of his courtiers, and his favorite
     grey-hounds; inter-mixing with his subjects, in perfect
     confidence of their loyalty and attachment. His brother
     James one day remonstrating with him on the impolicy of thus
     exposing his person,&mdash;"James," rejoined his majesty, "take
     care of yourself, and be under no apprehension for me: my
     people will never kill me, to make you king!"

     In more recent times, Mr. Charles Townsend used every
     morning, as he came to the Treasury, to pass by the Canal in
     the Park, and feed the ducks with bread or corn, which he
     brought in his pocket for that purpose. One morning having
     called his affectionate friends, the duckey, duckey,
     duckies, he found unfortunately that he had forgotten them;&mdash;
     "Poor duckies!" he cried, "I am sorry I am in a hurry and
     cannot get you some bread, but here is sixpence for you to
     buy some," and threw the ducks a sixpence, which one of them
     gobbled up. At the office he very wisely told the story to
     some gentlemen with whom he was to dine. There being ducks
     for dinner, one of the gentlemen ordered a sixpence to be
     put into the body of a duck, which he gave Charles to cut
     up. Our hero, sur-prised at finding a sixpence among the
     seasoning, bade the waiter send up his master, whom he
     loaded with epithets of rascal and scoundrel, and swore
     bitterly that he would have him prosecuted for robbing the
     king of his ducks; "for," said he, "gentlemen, this very
     morning did I give this sixpence to one of the ducks in the
     Canal in St. James's Park."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[232]</span> The party now seated themselves on one
      of the benches in the Mall, opposite the spot where lately stood the
      Chinese or Pagoda bridge. Tallyho had often animadverted on the absurdity
      of the late inconvenient and heterogeneous wooden structure, which had
      been erected at a considerable public expense; its dangling non-descript
      ornaments, and tiresome acclivity and descent of forty steps each. "What,"
      said he, "notwithstanding the protection by centinels of this precious
      memento of vitiated taste, has it become the prey of dilapidation?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Rather," answered Dashall, "of premature decay. Its crazy condition
      induced the sage authors of its origin to hasten its destruction; like the
      Cherokee chief, who, when the object of his regard becomes no longer
      useful, buries him alive!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Contrasting the magnificent appearance of the adjacent edifices, as seen
      from the Park, with one of apparently very humble pretensions, Miss
      Macgilligan inquired to what purpose the "shabby fabric" was applied, and
      by whom occupied.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That 'shabby fabric,' Madam," responded Dashall, "is St. James's Palace,
      erected by Henry VIII., in which our sovereigns of England have held their
      Courts from the reign of Queen Anne to that of his late Majesty George
      III." {1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The state apartments, now renovated, comprehend six
     chambers. The first is the guard chamber, at the top of the
     stairs: this has been entirely repaired, and on the right
     hand there is a characteristic chimney-piece, instead of the
     ill-shaped clumsy fire-place which previously disgraced this
     approach to the grand rooms. The next room, continuing to
     advance, is the presence chamber. This chamber has been
     remodelled, and a large handsome octagonal window
     introduced. This produces the best effect, and has rendered
     a gloomy room very light and cheerful. The privy chamber,
     which forms the eastern end of the great suite that runs
     from east to west, parallel to the Mall in the Park, and is,
     strictly speaking, the immediate scene of the Court; this is
     entirely new from the foundation, and is a continuation of
     the old suite of state apartments. The chamber is of noble
     dimensions, being nearly 70 feet in length, and having four
     windows towards the garden and Park beyond. A magnificent
     marble chimney-piece occupies the centre, on the east end.
     The anti-drawing-room and the drawing-room, in which little
     alteration appears, except in the introduction of splendid
     chimney-pieces of statuary marble, taken from the library of
     Queen Caroline in the Stable Yard, built by Kent. The
     workmanship of these is amazingly fine, and the designs very
     rich. The throne is at the upper end of the drawing room No.
     5, and from the chimney of the room No. 3, the vista through
     the middle doors of the anti-drawing-rooms is about 200
     feet!!   The<i>coup d'oeil</i> must be indescribably grand, when
     all the three apartments are filled with rank and beauty.
     The ceilings of the principal rooms, 3, 4, and 5, are coved
     upon handsome cornices, carved and gilt. This gives the
     apartments a spacious and lofty appearance; and there being
     four large windows in each, the whole suite is very
     imposing. The rooms are to be fitted with mirrors, and a
     noble collection of the royal pictures. Over the chimney in
     the drawing-room, Lawrence's splendid portrait of George
     IV., surrounded by the fine old carvings of Grinling
     Gibbons, of which many are preserved in the Palace, will be
     the principal object. In the anti-drawing-room a portrait of
     the venerable George III. will occupy a similar station; and
     on each side will appear the victories which reflected the
     highest lustre on his reign,&mdash;Trafalgar and Waterloo. In the
     privy chamber, a portrait of Queen Anne will be attended by
     the great Marlborough triumphs of Lisle and Tournay,
     Blenheim, and other historical pieces. Other spaces will
     exhibit a series of royal portraits, from the period of the
     founder of the Palace, Henry VIII. to the present era;
     including, of course, some of the most celebrated works of
     Holbein and Vandyke. The unrivalled "Charles on
     horseback," by the latter, is among the number, and the
     gallery, altogether, must be inestimable, even as a panorama
     of the arts in England for three centuries. On the whole,
     these state apartments, when completed, will not be
     excelled, if equalled, by any others in Europe. Holbein,
     whom we have just mentioned, was a favourite of Henry VIII.
     One day, when the painter was privately drawing a lady's
     picture for the king, a nobleman forced himself into the
     chamber. Holbein threw him down stairs; the peer cried out;
     Holbein bolted himself in, escaped over the roof of the
     house, and running directly to the king, fell on his knees,
     and besought his majesty to pardon him, without declaring
     the offence. The king promised to forgive him, if he would
     tell the truth. Immediately arrives the lord with his
     complaint. After hearing the whole, his majesty said to the
     nobleman,&mdash;" You have behaved in a manner unworthy of your
     rank. I tell you, of seven peasants I can make so many
     lords, but not one Holbein. Be gone, and remember this, if
     you ever presume to avenge yourself, I shall look on an
     injury you do to the painter as done to me."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[233]</span> The descendant of O'Brien was
      astonished, and connecting her ideas of the internal show of this Palace
      with its outward appearance, doubted not, secretly, that it was far
      inferior to the residence, in former times, of her royal progenitor.
    </p>
    <p>
      Probably guessing her thoughts, Dashall proceeded to observe, that the
      Palace was venerable from age, and in its interior decoration that it
      fully corresponded in splendor with the regal purposes to which it had
      been so long applied; "It is now, however," he added, "about to assume a
      still more imposing aspect, being under alterations and adornments, for
      the reception of the Court of his present Majesty, which, when completed,
      will render it worthy the presence of the Sovereign of this great Empire."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[234]</span> The sole use made lately of St. James's
      Palace, is for purposes of state. In 1808, the south-eastern wing of the
      building was destroyed by fire; the state apartments were, however,
      uninjured, and the Court of George the Third and his Queen was held here.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the right of the Palace, the attention of the party was next attracted
      by Marlborough House. It was built in the reign of Queen Anne, by the
      public, at the expense of 40,000L. on part of the royal gardens, and given
      by the Queen and Parliament, on a long lease, to the great Duke of
      Marlborough. It is a handsome building, much improved of late years, and
      has a garden extending to the Park, and forms a striking contrast to the
      adjoining Palace of St. James's. It is now the town residence of his Royal
      Highness, Prince Leopold of Saxe Cobourg.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our party now passed into St. James's-street, where Miss Macgilligan,
      whose acerbitude of temper had been much softened by the politeness of her
      friends during the morning's ramble, mentioned, that she had a visit to
      make on an occasion of etiquette, and requesting the honour of the
      gentlemen's company to dinner, she was handed by the Squire of
      Belville-hall, with all due gallantry and obeisance, into a
      hackney-chariot; Tom in the meanwhile noting its number, in the
      anticipation of its ultimately proving a requisite precaution.
    </p>
    <p>
      The trio, now left to their own pursuits, lounged leisurely up St.
      James's-street, and pausing at the caricature shop, an incident occurred
      which placed in a very favorable point of view the Baronet's promptitude
      of reply and equanimity of temper. Having had recourse to his glasses, lie
      stood on the pavement, examining the prints, unobservant of any other
      object; when a porter with a load brushed hastily forward, and coming in
      contact with the Baronet, put him, involuntarily, by the violence of the
      shock, to the left about face, without the word either of caution or
      command. "Damn your spectacles!" at same time, exclaimed the fellow;
      "Thank you, my good friend," rejoined Sir Felix,&mdash;"it is not the
      first time that my spectacles have saved my eyes!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[235]</span> Remarking on this rencounter, Dashall
      observed, that the insolence of these fellows was become really a public
      nuisance. Armed in the panoply of arrogance, they assume the right of the
      footway, to the ejection, danger, and frequent injury of other passengers;
      moving in a direct line with loads that sometimes stretch on either side
      the width of the pavement, they dash onward, careless whom they may run
      against, or what mischief may ensue. "I would not," continued Dashall,
      "class them with beasts of burthen, and confine them to the carriage-way
      of the street, like other brutes of that description; but I would have
      them placed under the control of some salutary regulations, and humanized
      under the dread of punishment."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Squire coincided with his friend in opinion, and added, by way of
      illustration, that it was only a few days since he witnessed a serious
      accident occasioned by the scandalous conduct of a porter: the fellow bore
      on his shoulders a chest of drawers, a corner of which, while he forced
      his way along the pavement, struck a young lady a stunning blow on the
      head, bringing her violently to the ground, and falling against a shop
      window, one of her hands went through a pane of glass, by which she was
      severely cut; thus sustaining a double injury, either of which might have
      been attended with fatal consequences.
    </p>
    <p>
      The three friends had now gained the fashionable lounge of Bond-street,
      whence turning into Conduit-street, they entered Limmer's Coffee-house,
      for the purpose of closing, by refreshment, the morning's excursion.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here Dashall recognized an old acquaintance in the person of an eminent
      physician, who, after an interchange of civilities, resumed his attention
      to the daily journals.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the same box with this gentleman, and directly opposite, sat another,
      whose health was apparently on the decline, who finding that the ingenious
      physician had occasionally dropped into this coffee-house, had placed
      himself <i>vis-a-vis</i> the doctor, and made many indirect efforts to
      withdraw his attention from the newspaper to examine the index of his (the
      invalid's) constitution. He at last ventured a bold push at once, in the
      following terms: "Doctor," said he, "I have for a long time been very far
      from being well, and as I belong to an office, where I am obliged to
      attend everyday, the complaints I have prove very troublesome to me, <span
      class="pagenum">[236]</span> and I would be glad to remove them."&mdash;The
      doctor laid down his paper, and regarded his patient with a steady eye,
      while he proceeded. "I have but little appetite, and digest what I eat
      very poorly; I have a strange swimming in my head," &amp;c. In short,
      after giving the doctor a full quarter of an hour's detail of all his
      symptoms, he concluded the state of his case with a direct question:&mdash;"Pray,
      doctor, what shall I take?" The doctor, in the act of resuming the
      newspaper, gave him the following laconic prescription:&mdash;"Take, why,
      take advice!"
    </p>
    <p>
      This colloquy, and its ludicrous result, having been perfectly audible to
      the company present, afforded considerable entertainment, of which the
      manoeuvring invalid seemed in no degree willing to partake, for he
      presently made his exit, without even thanking the doctor for his
      gratuitous advice.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Limmeb's Hotel.&mdash;This justly esteemed Hotel was much
     frequented by the late unfortunate Lord Camelford. Entering
     the coffee-room one evening, meanly attired, as he often
     was, he sat down to peruse the papers of the day. Soon after
     came in a "dashing fellow," a "first-rate blood," who threw
     himself into the opposite seat of the same box with Lord C,
     and in a most consequential tone hallowed out, "Waiter!
     bring in a pint of Madeira, and a couple of wax candles, and
     put them in the next box." He then drew to him Lord C.'s
     candle, and set himself to read. His Lordship glanced at him
     a look of indignation, but exerting his optics a little
     more, continued to decypher his paper. The waiter soon re-
     appeared, and with a multitude of obsequious bows, announced
     his having completed the commands of the gentleman, who
     immediately lounged round into his box. Lord Camelford
     having finished his paragraph, called out in a mimic tone to
     that of Mr.&mdash;&mdash;-, "Waiter!  bring me a pair of snuffers."
     These were quickly brought, when  his Lordship laid down his
     paper, walked round to the box in which Mr.&mdash;&mdash;-was, snuffed
     out both the candles, and leisurely returned to his seat.
     Boiling with rage and fury, the indignant beau roared out,
     "Waiter! waiter! waiter! who the devil is this fellow, that
     dares thus to insult a gentleman? Who is he? What is he?
     What do they call him?"&mdash;"Lord Camelford, Sir," said the
     waiter.&mdash;"Who? Lord Camelford!" returned the former, in a
     tone of voice scarcely audible; horror-struck at the
     recollection of his own impertinence, and almost doubting
     whether he was still in existence&mdash;"Lord Camelford!!! What
     have I to pay?" On being told, he laid down his score, and
     actually stole away, without daring to taste his Madeira.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[237]</span> The repast ended, the friends
      separated; Sir Felix to rejoin his august relative at their lodgings, and
      arrange with her preparations for the entertainment of Tom and Bob, and
      these two gentlemen also returning homewards to dress for the important
      occasion.
    </p>
    <p>
      Passing the house of his tailor, the Baronet stept in, and desired Mr.
      Snip to send to his lodgings, any time in the course of the evening, for
      the last new suit, for the purpose of alteration, as had been already
      pointed out.
    </p>
    <p>
      Miss Macgilligan had preceded her nephew in reaching home, and gave him,
      on his arrival, an appropriate and edifying lecture on a three-fold
      subject, embracing&mdash;petulancy,&mdash;respect to superiors,&mdash;and
      veneration for the memory of our ancestors.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Baronet, who never designed seriously to insult his aunt, but merely
      to have a bye-blow at her prominent foible,&mdash;pride of descent,&mdash;listened
      with becoming deference to her dissertation, which was interrupted by the
      entrance of his servant, (the same who on a certain occasion confided to
      Mother Cummings the safety of his master's property,{1})&mdash;"The
      tailor's boy, Sir Felix, for the new suit your Honor ordered to be
      altered."&mdash;"Very well," rejoined Sir Felix, "sure enough Mr. Snip is
      prompt in observance of instructions,&mdash;let the lad have the suit
      immediately."&mdash;This business having been despatched, Miss Macgilligan
      was about to resume her admonitory discourse; when, luckily, the arrival
      of the expected guests prevented its continuance, and it was consequently
      postponed until a more favourable opportunity.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Vide page 130.
</pre>
    <p>
      Dinner was shortly announced, during which nothing occurred of particular
      import. When the exhilirating "Tuscan grape" had superseded the discarded
      viands, Miss Macgilligan mentioned, that she had been grossly imposed upon
      by the driver of the hackney-chariot. It seems, that conceiving Jehu was
      exacting more than his fare, the lady, presenting a handful of silver,
      told him to take it all, if he thought proper, and the conscientious
      knight of the whip had actually embraced the offer in its literal
      acceptation, and pocketing the money, made the best of his way, before she
      recovered from the surprise occasioned by this "iniquitous" transaction.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[238]</span> "Iniquitous!" repeated the Baronet;&mdash;"by
      the powers of folly but there was no advantage taken at all, at all; and
      the man must have been worse than an idiot had he rejected so liberal an
      offer! Gra-machree, he might cry, and thanks to the donor, such
      opportunities don't occur every day."
    </p>
    <p>
      Appealing to her guests, she had the mortification of finding the opinion
      of her nephew supported.&mdash;"Certainly, madam," said Dashall, "the
      conduct of the man in putting a construction not meant upon your word, was
      highly reprehensible; yet I am afraid that redress is unavailable. A gift
      was implied, though obviously not intended, but impartially speaking, you
      tendered a donation, and the man, if not morally right, was legally
      justifiable in accepting it."
    </p>
    <p>
      While this case was under discussion, the baronet chuckled at the
      mischance of his aunt, and in defiance of the admonition given him a few
      hours before, seemed more petulant, less respectful, and totally
      irreverent of his ancestors.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the enjoyment of this triumph, and asserting that he could not be
      taken-in, even by the most artfully conducted manouvre, he was struck dumb
      by the information that Mr. Snip the tailor had called for the new suit.
      "The devil fly over the hill of Howth with him!" exclaimed the astounded
      Sir Felix, with a secret foreboding of evil, "has he not had the new suit,
      hours ago?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "He says not, sir," answered the servant.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Where then, in the name of mystery," rejoined the baronet, "are the
      clothes gone to? They were sent by his boy, were they not?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "He denies, sir," responded the servant, "that he sent for the clothes at
      all at all."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Sowl of my grandmother! send in this snip of a tailor instantaneously."
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall immediately surmised a fraud, and the statement of Snip converted
      suspicion into fact.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mr. Snip repeated, that he had not sent for the clothes; and neither did
      he keep a boy; but he recollected that there was a lad in his shop
      purchasing some trifling article at the time Sir Felix gave his address,
      and ordered the new suit to be sent for; and there is no doubt, added
      Snip, that this young adept, being thus put in the way of successfully
      practising a fraud, gladly availed himself of the opportunity, and
      obtained possession of the clothes in my name. But, Sir Felix (continued
      Mr. Snip) it must have escaped your recollection when <span class="pagenum">[239]</span>
      you sanctioned the delivery of the clothes, that I had particularly
      cautioned you, when you first honoured me with your custom, against your
      sending to my house any articles of apparel by pretended messengers from
      me, unless on the authority of my own hand writing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I exonerate you," said the baronet, "from censure, and exempt you from
      loss. I have been swindled. There is now no remedy. So make me another
      suit, and by stricter vigilance, we shall endeavour to avoid future
      depredation."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This is amongst the inferior classes of fraud daily
     practised in the metropolis.    The following is one of a
     fust rate description.

     Swindling.&mdash;A case most ingeniously contrived and
     successfully carried into execution on Saturday last, is
     scarcely to be equalled on the records of fraud. It was
     equal to that practised on Rundle and Bridge, the jewellers,
     some time ago, but the present case is only at the expense
     of four costly gold watches. The swindler, who called
     himself Mr. Winter, is rather above the middle size, was
     dressed in a brown frock coat, wears long whiskers, and is
     well calculated for imposition in address and manner. A
     house in Southampton-street, Strand, occupied by Mr. Holt,
     the barrister, having been advertised to be let, Mr. Winter
     called about it several times last week, and he appointed
     Saturday last to call with some ladies, when he could give a
     final answer; and the servants were desired, if the
     occupants were from home, to shew the gentleman and his
     party into the dining-room. Having secured this point, Mr.
     Winter called upon Mr. Ely, a jeweller, at the latter end of
     the week, and after looking over some trifles, in the shop,
     he desired that some ladies' watches might be brought to his
     residence, No. 5, Southampton-street, at a certain hour on
     Saturday, for inspection. The swindler called some time
     before the jeweller was expected, and inquired if the ladies
     who were to meet him there had called, and being informed in
     the negative, he affected surprise, and desired them to be
     informed of his arrival when they came. He was shewn into
     the front drawing-room, but he preferred the adjoining room,
     and desired the servant to shew a gentleman, who would call,
     into the front room, and let him know when he arrived. The
     jeweller was to his time with the goods, and Mr. Winter paid
     him a visit, and after looking over the goods, he selected
     four watches, worth 100L. to shew the ladies in the next
     room, instead of which he took his hat, and walked off with
     the watches. After waiting till out of patience, the
     jeweller rang the bell, and the servant missed Mr. Winter,
     who had promised her servitude, the landlord his new tenant,
     and the jeweller his watches!
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[240]</span> It was now Miss Macgilligan's turn to
      triumph, but, to the surprise and relief of her nephew, she did not avail
      herself of the privilege; sensible, perhaps, that the loss which site
      sustained, was occasioned by her own imprudence, and that his misfortune
      might have happened to those even the most guarded against deception, she
      consoled instead of recriminating. The most perfect unanimity now
      prevailed between the two relatives; and the evening passed on with
      increased pleasure. The unexpected migration of the new suit led to
      conversation on the frauds of London, when Dashall justly observed, that
      if the ingenuity exemplified in depredation was exercised in honest
      industry, in place of being now the pest, many of those men might have
      been the ornaments of Society.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0004" id="link42HCH0004">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVIII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Tho' village delights may charm for a time,
          With hunting, with cricket, with trap-ball and such,
          The rambles in London are bang-up and prime,
          And never can tire or trouble us much;
          Tis a life of variety, frolic, and fun:
          Rove which way you will, right or left, up or down.
          All night by the gas, and all day by the sun,
          Sure no joys can compare with the joys of the town."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[241]</span> Our two friends, in consequence of some
      allusions made by the company at the Finish, on a preceding day, to a
      house of great theatrical celebrity in Drury-lane, resolved on a visit the
      following evening; and it may here be necessary to introduce such of our
      readers as are not in the secret, to the same.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Harp, opposite Drury-lane Theatre, is well known as the resort of
      theatrical amateurs and professors; but those who have not had an
      opportunity of visiting its interior, can scarcely form an idea of the
      mirth, wit, and humour constantly displayed within its walls. The
      circumstance here alluded to, though not exactly introduced in point of
      time, is one which generally takes place once in three years; viz. the
      election of a Mayor to represent the now City of Lushington, an event
      which is attended with as much of bustle, interest, and whimsicality, as a
      popular election for a member of Parliament. The generality of the persons
      who are frequent visitors to the house are termed <i>Harponians</i>, and
      by due qualification become citizens of Lushington. Although we cannot
      give a true and circumstantial history of this ancient city, we doubt not
      our numerous readers will discover that its title is derived from an
      important article in life, commonly called Lush. The four wards are also
      appropriately titled, as symbolical of the effects which are usually
      produced by its improper application. On entering the room, the first
      corner on the right hand is <i>Suicide Ward</i>, and derives its
      appellation from a society so named, in which each member is bound by an
      oath, that however he might feel inclined to lay violent hands upon his
      glass, he would not lay violent hands upon his own existence.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[242]</span> The left hand corner has also a name as
      appropriate as its neighbour, being called <i>Poverty Ward</i>; so termed
      from its vicinity to the door, and the ease with which a citizen, whose
      tanner case{1} and toggery{2} are out of repair, may make his entree and
      exit, without subjecting himself to the embarrassing gaze and scrutiny of
      his more fortunate fellow-citizens. Juniper Ward, which is directly
      opposite to Poverty Ward, may in a moral point of view be said to mark the
      natural gradation rom the one to the other. Whether these wards are so
      placed by the moral considerations of the ingenious citizens or not, we
      are at present unable to learn; but we have discovered that <i>Juniper
      Ward</i> is so called in consequence of a club, consisting of seven
      citizens, who bound themselves to meet every evening exactly on the spot,
      taking each upon himself to defray the expense of <i>blue ruin</i> for the
      whole party on each evening alternately. In the corner directly opposite
      to Suicide Ward is <i>Lunatic Ward</i>, indicative no doubt of the few
      steps there are between the one and the other: hence the four corner
      pillars of this ancient and honourable city are replete with moral
      instruction to the wise and discriminating part of society.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Tanner case&mdash;a pocket.

     2 Toggery&mdash;cloathing.
</pre>
    <p>
      Each of these wards, like the wards of the City of London, has its
      alderman, and no doubt can be entertained of their being ably represented,
      as well as their rights and privileges being well secured and sustained. A
      gentleman who is well known and highly respected for his abilities and
      attentions as theatrical agent, which character he has sustained for many
      years, is high bailiff, and at proper periods issues his writ in the
      following form:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "City of Lushington, (to wit.)
    </p>
    <p>
      "The high bailiff having received a requisition to convene a meeting for
      the purpose of nominating aldermen to represent the different wards, and
      from them to elect a mayor for the above city for the year ensuing;
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[243]</span> "The high bailiff, in pursuance
      thereof, fixes Saturday the 22d December inst. to nominate for the purpose
      aforesaid, and from thence proceed to the election, which election is to
      continue till the following Monday, being the 24th, when the poll is to be
      closed.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Given under my hand, this 18th day of December, 1821. (Signed) "F. SIMS,
      high bailiff."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Lushington Hall."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The election to commence at 7 o'clock; the poll to be closed at half-past
      10."
    </p>
    <p>
      After this official notice, preparations are made in due form for the
      election, and in the fitting up of the hustings the most skilful and
      ingenious artists are selected from the several wards, while the
      candidates are employed in forming their committees, and canvassing their
      friends and fellow-citizens, each of them professing an intention to
      intersect the city with canals of sky blue, to reduce the price of heavy
      wet, and to cultivate plantations of the weed, to be given away for the
      benefit and advantage of the community, thereby to render taxation
      useless, and the comforts of life comeatable by all ranks and degrees of
      society. To take the burthensome load of civic state upon themselves, in
      order that their friends and neighbours may be free; that independence may
      become universal, and that the suffrages of the people may be beyond
      controul nor can it be doubted but these professions are made with as much
      sincerity in many of a similar nature in larger cities, and in situations
      of much greater importance.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "For quacks profess the nation's ills to cure,
          To mend small fortunes, and set up the poor;
          And oft times neatly make their projects known,
          By mending not the public's, but their own.
          The poor indeed may prove their watchful cares,
          That nicely sift and weigh their mean affairs,
          From scanty earnings nibbling portions small,
          As mice, by bits, steal cheese with rind and all;
          But why should statesmen for mechanics carve,
          What are they fit for but to work and starve."
</pre>
    <p>
      It is, however, proper to observe, that in the City of Lushington there
      are no sinecures, no placemen and pensioners, to exhaust the treasury;
      honour is the grand inducement for the acceptance of office, and highly
      honour'd are those who are fortunate enough to obtain the mark s of
      distinction to which they aspire.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[244]</span> The oath administered upon such
      occasions is of a most serious and solemn nature; which, however,
      notwithstanding the conscientious scruples of the voters, must be taken
      with suitable gravity before they can be, permitted to poll; being in
      substance nearly as follows:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "I (A. B.) do swear that I have been an inhabitant of the City of
      Lushington for the space of &mdash; years; and that I have taken within
      its walls &mdash; pots of porter, &mdash; glasses of jackey, and smoked
      &mdash;pipes; (the blanks are filled in according to circumstances); that
      is to say, one pot of heavy wet, one glass of juniper, and one loading of
      weed at least annually; have been the cause of such acts in others, or
      have been present when such acts have been performed; and that I have not
      polled at this election."
    </p>
    <p>
      This oath is sworn with all due solemnity, by kissing the foot of a broken
      glass, and the vote is then recorded.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom and Bob, who had so little previous intimation of this important
      event, were informed as they proceeded to the scene of action, by a friend
      of one of the candidates, that the election was strongly contested between
      Sir William Sims, the son of the worthy high bailiff, Sir Benjamin
      Rosebud, Jessamine Sweetbriar, Sir Peter Paid, and Peregrine Foxall, the
      silver-toned orator, strongly supported by the Tag Rag and Bobtail Club.
      Sir Frederick Atkinson introduced and proposed by the Marquis of Huntley,
      a well known sporting character from the county of Surrey, and Mr.
      Alderman Whetman, of Lushington notoriety. The door of the house was well
      guarded by the <i>posse comitatis</i>, armed with staves, emblematical of
      the renowned city to which they belonged, and decorated with the favors of
      the different candidates by whom they were employed, or whose interest
      they espoused. The staves, instead of the crown, were surmounted by
      quartern measures, and produced a most striking and novel effect, as they
      appeared to be more reverenced and respected than that gaudy bauble which
      is a representative of Royalty.
    </p>
    <p>
      At the moment of our friends entrance, large bodies of voters were brought
      up by canvassing parties from the surrounding habitations, with colours
      flying, and were introduced in succession to poll; and as time was fast
      escaping, every one was active in support of his favourite candidate. All
      was bustle and anxiety, and Tom and Bob approached the hustings with two
      chimney-sweepers, a hackney-coachman, and three light bearers, alias
      link-carriers, from Covent Garden Theatre. Having polled for Sir William
      Sims, who very politely returned thanks for <span class="pagenum">[245]</span>
      the honour conferred on him, standing room was provided for them by the
      inhabitants of Lunatic Ward, who it should seem, like others under the
      influence of the moon, have their lucid intervals, and who upon this
      occasion displayed a more than usual portion of sanity, mingled with good
      humour and humanity.
    </p>
    <p>
      In this quarter of the city, where our friends expected to find
      distracted, or at least abstracted intellect, they were very pleasingly
      disappointed at discovering they were associated with reasonable and
      intelligent beings; although some of them, fatigued by their exertions
      during the election, were so strongly attacked by Somnus, that
      notwithstanding the bustle with which they were surrounded, they
      occasionally dropped into the arms of the drowsy god, and accompanied the
      proceedings with a snore, till again roused to light and life by some more
      wakeful inhabitant.
    </p>
    <p>
      At the appointed time, the high bailiff announced the election closed, and
      after an examination of the votes, declared the choice to have fallen on
      Sir William, a circumstance which drew forth a unanimous burst of
      approbation, long, loud, and deep, which in a few moments being
      communicated to those without. This was as cordially and as vociferously
      answered by anxious and admiring crowds.
    </p>
    <p>
      The influx of citizens, upon the event being known, to hear the speeches
      of the different candidates, choaked up every avenue to the hustings, and
      beggars all description; the inimitable pencil of a Hogarth could hardly
      have done justice to the scene, and a Common Hall of the City of London
      might be considered a common fool to it; every voter had a right,
      established that right, and enjoyed it. Here stood the well-dressed
      Corinthian in his bang-up toggery, alongside of a man in armour, one of
      the Braziers Company, armed with a pot-lid and a spit, and decorated with
      a jack-chain round his neck. There stood a controller of the prads, a
      Jarvey, in close conversation with one of the lighters of the world, with
      his torch in hand. A flue faker in one corner, was endeavouring to explain
      a distinction between smoke and gas to a lamplighter, who declared it as
      his opinion, "that the City of Lushington,&mdash;at all times a luminous
      and deservedly revered City,&mdash;had had more light thrown upon it that
      election, by the introduction of the link carriers, than it ever had
      before; and likewise that his dissertation on smoke and gas was not worth
      one puff from his pipe."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[246]</span> In the midst of this bustle, noise and
      confusion, it was some time before the high bailiff could obtain silence;
      when Sir William made his appearance on the hustings, and in language well
      suited for the occasion, declared the heartfelt gratitude he entertained
      for the high and distinguished honour so handsomely conferred upon him,
      with his determination never to lose sight of the invaluable rights and
      privileges of his constituents, assuring them they were welcome to indulge
      themselves with any thing the house afforded. He next complimented his
      opponents on the very gentlemanlike way in which the election had been
      conducted, and alluded most emphatically to the introduction of those
      voters who endeavour to lighten the darkness of the world, the
      link-carriers, who by their manners and conduct had become on that
      occasion as it were links of a chain, which in point of friendship, good
      humour and independence, he sincerely hoped would never be broken.
      Rapturous applause followed this speech, which notwithstanding the almost
      overpowering load of gratitude with which the speaker was burthened, was
      given with good emphasis and corresponding effect.
    </p>
    <p>
      The other candidates returned thanks to those of their fellow-citizens who
      had supported their interest; and no one seeming inclined to call for a
      scrutiny, Sir William took the official oath, and was invested with the
      cloathing of magistracy, which being done, Mr. Alderman Whetman arose to
      address the mayor.
    </p>
    <p>
      The well known ability usually displayed by this gentleman, his patriotic
      zeal, and undeviating integrity, commanded immediate silence, while he
      informed the chief magistrate of a circumstance which had recently
      occurred, and which left one of the wards unrepresented, by a worthy
      alderman who in consequence of accepting an office in the board of
      controul, had by the laws of Lushington vacated his seat. An explanation
      being demanded, it appeared that the worthy alderman had become a deputy
      manager of a country theatre, and consequently must be considered under
      the board of controul; it was therefore necessary he should at least be
      re-elected before he could be allowed to continue in the distinguished
      station of alderman: this point being agreed to, the situation was
      declared vacant, and a time appointed for the election.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[247]</span> The official business of the election
      being over, harmony and conviviality became the order of the night;
      foaming bowls and flowing glasses decorated the tables; many of the
      citizens withdrawing to rest after their labours, made room for those who
      remained, and every one seemed desirous to
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Wreath the bowl
          With flowers of soul,
          The brightest wit can find us;
          We'll take a flight
          Towards heav'n to-night,
          And leave dull earth behind us."
</pre>
    <p>
      The song, the toast, the sentiment, followed each other in rapid
      succession; mirth and good humour prevailed, and time, while he exhausted
      himself, appeared to be inexhaustible. The beams of wit, the lively
      sallies of humour, and the interchange of good fellowship, eradiated the
      glass in its circulation, and doubly enhanced its contents; and in
      amusements so truly congenial with the disposition of the Hon. Tom Dashall
      and his Cousin, they joined till after four o'clock in the morning, thus
      rendering themselves true and devoted citizens of Lushington, when they
      sallied forth, tolerably well primed for any lark or spree which chance
      might throw in their way. It was a fine morning, and while the shopkeepers
      and trades-men were taking their rest, the market gardeners and others
      were directing their waggons and carts to Covent Garden.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "we will just take a turn round the
      Garden, and a stroll down Drury-lane, for a walk will do us no harm after
      our night's amusement, and we can hardly fail to find subjects worthy of
      observation, though; in all probability we are too early to realize all
      the poet's description of a market:"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "A market's the circle for frolic and glee,
          Where tastes of all kinds may be suited;
          The dasher, the quiz, and the "up to all"&mdash;he,
          Pluck sprees from the plants in it rooted.
          If the joker, or queer one, would fain learn a place,
          Where they'd wish for a morning to "lark it,"
          They need go no further than just shew their face,
          In that region of mirth, a large market."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[248]</span> The streets that surround the theatres,
      and which of an evening are thronged with the elegant equipage of the
      visitors, were now filled with carts, waggons, and other vehicles of
      various denominations, for conveyance of the marketable commodities to and
      from the place of sale: here and there were groupes of Irishmen and
      basket-women, endeavouring to obtain a load, and squabbling with assiduous
      vociferations for the first call.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This," said Tom, "is the largest market for vegetables we have in the
      metropolis, and supplies numerous retail dealers with their stock in
      trade; who assemble here early in the morning to make their bargains, and
      get them home before the more important business of the day, that of
      selling, commences." While Tom was explaining thus briefly to his Cousin,
      aloud laugh attracted their attention, and drew them to a part of the
      market where a crowd was collected, to witness a squabble between a Jew
      orange merchant and a pork butcher.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Although the Hon. Tom Dashall hurried his Cousin from the
     scene of altercation, at the time of its occurrence, they
     enjoyed a hearty laugh at the following report of the facts
     which appeared in one of the morning papers shortly
     afterwards:&mdash;

     EFHRAIM   versus   STEWART.

     "This was a proceeding in limine, by which the plain till'
     sought reparation for violence done to his religious
     scruples and bodily health by the defendant, inasmuch as he,
     the plaintiff being a Jew, on Wednesday, the 12th day of
     this month, in the forenoon, in the parish of St. Paul
     Covent Garden, did, with malice aforethought, knock him down
     with a pig's head, contrary to the statute, and against the
     peace of our Sovereign Lord the King," &amp;c.

     Both plaintiff and defendant pleaded each for himself, no
     counsel being employed on either side.

     Ephraim Ephraim deposed, that he is by profession an orange-
     merchant, carrying on his business in Covent Garden market.
     That the defendant, Richard Stewart, is a dealer in pork and
     poultry in the said market; and that he the said Richard
     Stewart, on the day and time then stated, did thrust a pig's
     face against his cheek with such violence, as to throw him
     backwards into a chest of oranges, whereby he sustained
     great damage both in body, mind, and merchandize. Plaintiff
     stated moreover, that he had previously and on sundry
     occasions forewarned the said Richard Stewart, it was
     contrary to the tenets of his religion to come in contact
     with pork, and yet nevertheless he the said Richard did
     frequently, and from time to time, intrude pork upon his
     attention, by holding it up aloft in the market, and
     exclaiming aloud, "Ephraim, will you have a mouthful?" All
     this, he humbly submitted, betokened great malice and
     wickedness in the said Richard, and he therefore besought
     the magistrate to interpose the protection of the law in bis
     behalf.

     The magistrate observed, that he was astonished a person of
     Mr. Stewart's appearance and respectability should be guilty
     of such conduct, and having explained to him that the law
     afforded equal protection to the professors of every
     religion, called upon him for his defence.

     "May it please your Worship," said Mr. Richard Stewart, who
     is a well fed man, of a jolly and pleasing countenance,
     "May it please your Worship, I keeps a shop in Covent Garden
     Market, and have done so any time these ten years, and Mr.
     Ephraim's stand is next to mine. Now, your Worship, on
     Wednesday morning I'd a hamper o'pork sent up out
     o'Hertfordshire, and so I opened the hamper, and at the top
     of it lay a nice head, and I takes it and holds it up and
     says I, Heres a bootiful head, says I, did ever any body see
     such a handsome un, and sure enough your Worship it was the
     most bootiftd as ever was, and would a done any body's heart
     good to see it. It was cut so clean of the quarter (drawing
     his finger closely across his own neck), and was so short
     i'the snout, and as white as a sheet,&mdash;it was, your Worship,
     remarkably handsome. And so, I said, says I, look here, did
     ever tiny body see such a picture, holding it up just in
     this manner. With that, 'Ah, says Mr. Ephraim, says he, now
     my dream's out; I dream't last night that I saw two pig's
     heads together, and there they are;' meaning my head, and
     the pig's head, your Worship. Well, I took no notice o'that,
     but I goes me gently behind him, and slides the pig's head
     by the side of his head, claps my own o' the other side all
     on a row, with the pig's in the middle, your Worship; and
     says I to the folks, says I, now who'll say which is the
     honestest face of the three. With that, your Worship, all
     the folks fell a laughing, and I goes myself quietly back
     again to a stall. But poor Ephraim, he fell in such a
     passion! Lord, Lord, to see what a pucker he were in, he
     danced, and he capered, and he rubbed his whiskers, though I
     verily believe the pig's head never touched him; and he
     jumped and he fidgeted about, all as one as if he was mad,
     till at last he tumbled into the orange chest, your Worship,
     of his own accord, as it were, and that's the long and the
     short of it, your Worship, as my neighbours here can
     specify."

     His Worship, having listened attentively to those
     conflicting statements, decided that the defendant had acted
     indecently in insulting the religious feelings of the
     plaintiff, though at the same time the affair was hardly
     worth carrying to the Sessions, and therefore he would
     recommend the plaintiff to be satisfied with an apology.

     The defendant expressed the greatest willingness to
     apologize. "For," says he, "I have ax'd another Jew what
     could make Mr. Ephraim in such a passion; and he told me,
     your Worship, that if you get a rale Jew, and rub him with a
     bit o'pork, it's the greatest crime as ever was."

     Plaintiff  and   defendant   then   retired,  and   the
     matter   was compromised.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[250]</span> The Israelite appeared to be in a great
      rage, swore he would have revenge of his insulting neighbour, and pull him
      up. The exasperation of the Jew afforded much merriment to the spectators,
      who seemed to enjoy his aggravation: our friends, however, had arrived too
      late to discover the cause, and although not very particular about
      discovering themselves amid the mob, conceived it most prudent to move
      onward without inquiry; "for," as Tom observed, "if we ask any questions
      we are sure to be told lies: "they then passed through the Market, made
      their way up James-street to Long Acre, and thence to Drury-lane.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link4image-0001" id="link4image-0001">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page250.jpg" alt="Page250.jpg Drury Lane " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      The watchmen were just leaving their stations, with an intention to
      partake of what they had all night been endeavouring to deprive others,
      and the humbler ranks of society were preparing for the business of the
      day; while the batter'd beau, the clean'd out buck, and the dissipated
      voluptuary, were occasionally to be seen gliding from holes and corners,
      and scampering home with less wisdom in their heads, and less money in
      their purses, than when they left. Here was to be seen the City shopman,
      hastening away from his dulcenea, to get down his master's shutters before
      the gouty old gentleman should be able to crawl down stairs; there, the
      dandy, half dressed, and more than half seas over, buttoning his toggery
      close round him to keep out the damp air of the morning, affecting to sing
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Be gone dull care;"
</pre>
    <p>
      slipped along, as he supposed, unobserved, between dustmen, scavengers,
      flue-fakers, gardeners, fish-fags, and brick-layer's labourers&mdash;to
      refit and put himself in a situation to recount the adventures of the
      night. At one door, stood a shivering group of half-starved
      chimney-sweepers, rending the air with their piercing cries of "sweep,"
      occasionally relieved by a few hearty d&mdash;-ns bestowed upon the
      servant, that she did not come down, in order to let a diminutive urchin
      yet up the flue; leaning against a post at the corner of the street was an
      overdone Irishman, making a bargain with pug-nosed Peg, a sort of
      half-bred pinafore cyprian, whose disappointments during the night induced
      her to try at obtaining a morning customer. The Hibernian was relating the
      ill usage he had been subjected to, and the necessity he had of making a
      hasty retreat from the quarters he had taken up; while Bet Brill, on her
      road to Billingsgate, was blowing him up for wearing odd boots, and being
      a hod man&mdash;blowing a cloud sufficient to enliven and revive the whole
      party.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[251]</span> "Poor fellow," said Tom, "it would be a
      charity to pop him into a rattler, and drive him home; and do you see, he
      is standing close to a mud cart, the delicate drippings of which are
      gently replenishing his otherwise empty pockets."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Be aisy," said Pat Murphy the hodman, "arn't he an Irish jontleman, arn't
      I a jontleman from Ireland; and arn't it lit and proper, and right and
      just, as well as jontlemanly, that two jontlemen should go together, so
      come along Peg, we'll just take a taste of the cratur, drink success to
      the lads of Shellaly, and put the matter in its right shape." With this
      pug-nosed Peg seized him by one arm, and the last orator by the other, and
      in a short time they entered a sluicery in the neighbourhood, which
      enclosed the party from view.
    </p>
    <p>
      Turning from the group which they had been paying attention to, they were
      suddenly attracted by a female purveyor for the stomach, who was serving
      out her tea, coffee, and saloop, from a boiling cauldron, and handing with
      due complaisance to her customers bread and butter, which was as eagerly
      swallowed and devoured by two dustmen, who appeared to relish their
      delicate meal with as much of appetite and gout, as the pampered palate of
      a City alderman would a plate of turtle. The figure of the lady, whose
      commodities were thus desirable and refreshing to the hungry
      dust-collectors, struck Bob at the first view as having something matronly
      and kind about it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These persons," said Tom, "are really useful in their vocation; and while
      they provide a wholesome beverage for the industrious, are rather
      deserving of approbation than censure or molestation: the latter, however,
      they are frequently subjected to; for the kids of lark, in their moments
      of revelry, think lightly of such poor people's stock in trade, and
      consider it a prime spree to upset the whole concern, without caring who
      may be scalded by the downfall, or how many of their fellow-creatures may
      go without a breakfast and dinner in consequence; but do you mark the
      other woman behind her?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I do," said Bob, "and it is impossible to view them both without noticing
      the striking contrast they form to each other."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[252]</span> "Your observations are just," continued
      Tom; "that is an old beldame of the neighbourhood, in search of the poor
      unhappy girl who has just taken the Irishman in tow, an encourager of all
      that is vicious and baneful in society."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I could almost judge that from her features," replied Bob, "though I do
      not pretend to much skill in physiognomy."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A debauched body and a vitiated mind are perceptible in her face, and
      having remained on the town till these were too visible for her to hope
      for a continuance, she is now a tutoress of others, to make the most of
      those with whom they promiscuously associate. She furnishes the finery,
      and shares the plunder. It is, however, a melancholy and disgusting
      picture of Real Life in London, and merely deserves to be known in order
      to be avoided, for there is no species of villainy to which persons of her
      stamp"&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Of whom it is to be hoped there are but few," cried Tallyho, interrupting
      him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "For the sake of human nature," replied Dashalt., "it is to be hoped so;
      but there is no species of villainy to which they will not stoop." {1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The Hon. Tom Dashall's observations on this subject are
     but too strikingly exemplified by a case heard at Worship-
     street Police Office a short time back, in which Jemima
     Matthews was charged with conduct which excited astonishment
     at the depravity of human nature.&mdash;One of the parish
     constables of Spitalfields stated, he proceeded to the
     residence of the prisoner in Upper Cato-street, and found
     the wretch at the bar surrounded by eight children, while a
     supper, consisting of a variety of meats and vegetables, was
     making ready on the fire. Three children, Frederick Clark,
     John Clark, and John Bailey, were owned by their parents.
     The children seemed so much under the controul of this
     infamous woman, that they were afraid to tell the truth
     until she was removed from the bar. Little Bailey then said,
     they were daily sent out to steal what they could, and bring
     it home in the evening. When they could get nothing else,
     they stole meat from the butchers, and vegetables from the
     green-grocers. The woman kept a pack of cards, by which she
     told their fortunes, whether they would succeed, or be
     caught by the officers. Mr. Swaby observed, that since he
     had attended the Office, he never witnessed a case of so
     much iniquity. The prisoner was remanded for further
     examination, and the magistrate intimated he should desire
     the parish to prosecute her for the misdemeanor, in exciting
     these children to commit felonies.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[253]</span> At this moment their attention was
      suddenly called to another subject, by a loud huzza from a combination of
      voices at no great distance from where they then were, and in a few
      minutes a considerable concourse of dustmen and others appeared in view.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is something in the wind," said Dashall, "we must have a look at
      these gentry, for there is frequently some humour among them.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I hope," replied Bob, "they have not overturned the dustcart in the wind,
      for I am apprehensive in such a case we should scarcely have eyes to view
      their frolics."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom laughed at the ready turn of his Cousin, and remarking that all flesh
      was dust, proceeded towards the increasing party: here they soon found
      out; that, as a venerable son of the fan-tailed-hat fraternity described
      it, "a screw was loose."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Perhaps," inquired Bob, "it is the linch-pin." "Why aye, mayhap as how
      that there may be the case for aught I knows about it. Howsomdever, I'll
      tell you all about it:&mdash;first and foremost you must know that Dick
      Nobbs lives down here in Charles-street, and Dick Nobbs has got a wife.
      Now she is the devil's own darling, and Dick is a match for her or the
      devil himself, come from wherever he may, but as good a fellow as ever
      lapp'd up a pail full of water-gruel; and so you must know as how Dick has
      this here very morning been found out, in bed with another man's wife. The
      other man is a nightman, and rubbish-carter, vhat lives in the same house
      with Dick; so this here man being out all night at a job, Dick gets lushy,
      and so help me&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;, he finds his way steady enough into
      that there man's bed, and vhen that there man comes home, my eyes vhat a
      blow up! There lays Dick Nobbs fast asleep in the man's wife's arms, so he
      kicks up a row&mdash;Dick shews fight&mdash;and the man comes and tells us
      all about it; so we are going to try him for a misdemeanor, and he can't
      help himself no how whatsomedever."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom was alive to the story, and in a few minutes the culprit was conducted
      to a neighbouring public-house, tried before a whole bench of the society,
      cast, and condemned to undergo the usual sentence in such cases made and
      provided, entitled, "Burning Shame," and active preparations were making
      by those of the fraternity without, to carry into immediate execution the
      sentence pronounced by those within.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[254]</span> The offender was decorated with a bunch
      of Christmas in his hat, and two large carrots in the front, to represent
      horns. In this manner he was mounted on the brawny shoulders of four of
      his companions, preceded by the crier of the court, another dustman, with
      a bell, which he rung lustily, and at intervals proclaimed the crime of
      which the culprit had been found guilty. After the crier, followed eight
      more of the brotherhood, two and two, their hats ornamented with bunches
      of holly, and a burning candle in the front of each hat. Then came the
      culprit, carried as already described, with a pot of heavy wet in one
      hand, and a pipe of tobacco in the other, which he occasionally smoaked,
      stooping forward to light it at one of the candles in the fantail hats of
      his two front supporters. The rear of this ludicrous procession was
      brought up by several other dustmen and coalheavers, and their ladies. The
      procession set out from Charles-street, down Drury-lane, Great
      Queen-street, Wild-street, and round Clare Market, followed by an immense
      crowd, which kept increasing as they went, and nearly rendered the streets
      impassable. Two collectors were appointed, one on each side of the street,
      and were very active in levying contributions among the spectators to
      defray the expenses. They stopped at several public-houses, where they
      quaffed off oceans of heavy wet, and numerous streamlets of old Jamaica,
      and then returned to headquarters in Charles-street, where the offence was
      drowned in drink, and they and their ladies passed the remainder of the
      evening, as happy as beer and gin, rum and tobacco, could make them.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having witnessed a considerable part of this ceremonious proceeding, and
      been informed of the intended finale, our friends, who began to feel
      somewhat uncomfortable for want of refreshment and rest, proposed
      returning home; and having thrown themselves into a hack, they in a short
      time arrived at Piccadilly.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0005" id="link42HCH0005">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIX
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "'If in Real Life's chapter you e'er tind a blank,
          'Tis yourself and you only you justly can thank;
          For to him who is willing&mdash;there's no need to stand,
          Since enough may be found 'twixt Mile End and the Strand
          To instruct, to inform, to disgust or invite,
          To deplore, to respect, to regret or delight."

          "'Tis in London where unceasing novelty grows,
          Always fresh&mdash;and in bloom like the opening rose;
          But if to the rose we its sweetness compare,
          "fis as freely confess'd many thorus gather there;
          And if to avoid the latter you're prone,
          'Tis at least quite as well, where they are, should be known."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[255]</span> The arrival at Piccadilly turned out to
      be truly agreeable to our friends, who were scarcely dressed and seated at
      the breakfast-table, before they were surprised by the unexpected
      appearance of an old friend, whose company and conversation had upon many
      occasions afforded them so much pleasure and information. This was no
      other than Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "My dear boy," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "you are welcome to the scene of
      former gratifications. How is your better half, and all friends in the
      country&mdash;any increase in the family? Why you look as healthy as
      Hygeia, and as steady as old time."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess," replied Sparkle, "you ask so many questions upon important
      subjects in one breath, that I am quite deficient of wind to answer them
      seriatim. You must therefore take an answer in two words&mdash;all's
      right."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Enough," replied Tom, "then I am content; but how, what,&mdash;are you in
      town alone?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "You shall know all in time, but don't drive on too hard. I am glad to
      meet you again in the regions of fun, frolic, and humour, of which I doubt
      not there is, as there always was, a plentiful stock. Glad to see you both
      in good health and tip-top spirits. I have only come to pass a fortnight
      with you; and as I intend to make the utmost use of every minute of the
      time, don't let us waste in empty words what would be better employed in
      useful deeds."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[256]</span> "Useful deeds," re-echoed Tom, "useful
      deeds&mdash;that savours of reflection. I thought you were fully aware it
      is an article considered of little value in the labyrinths of London; but
      since you are become, as I may venture to presume, a useful man, what may
      be the objects upon which you propose to practise your utility?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Still the same I find, Tom; all life, spirit, and gaiety, nothing like a
      hit, and I suppose you now think you have a palpable one. Never mind, I am
      not easily disconcerted, therefore you may play off the artillery of your
      wit without much chance of obtaining a triumph; but however, in plain
      words, I expect to be a happy father in about another month."
    </p>
    <p>
      "O ho!" said Tom, "then you are really a useful member of society, and I
      suppose are merely come up to town for the purpose of picking up a little
      more useful information and instruction how to perform the part of Papa."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay," replied Sparkle, "I could hardly expect to obtain such from you. I
      must therefore be excused and acquitted of all such intentions&mdash;but
      joking apart, how are you devoted?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "To you," replied Tallyho, who was much pleased by this accession to their
      society.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," continued Sparkle, "lend me all the assistance in your power. When
      did you see our old friend Merrywell!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "The last time I saw him was in a place of safety, studying the law, and
      taking lessons from its professors in the Priory."
    </p>
    <p>
      "We must find him," replied Sparkle; "so if you are not engaged, come
      along, and I will relate the circumstances which induce this search as we
      proceed."
    </p>
    <p>
      To this proposal Tom and Bob readily acceding, the party were quickly on
      their way towards Abbot's Park.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[257]</span> "You must know," said Sparkle, "that
      Merry well's uncle in the country having received some information upon
      the subject of his confinement, probably very highly coloured, has since
      his release withdrawn his patronage and support, so that the poor fellow
      has been without supplies for some time past, and I am at a loss to
      conjecture by what means he is now working the oracle for a subsistence.
      His uncle, however, is in the last stage of a severe illness, with little
      chance of recovery; and as I apprehend there is but little time to spare,
      I intend, if possible, to find our old acquaintance, start him for his
      relative's residence, in hope that he may arrive in time to be in at the
      death, and become inheritor of his estate, which is considerable, and may
      otherwise be apportioned among persons for whom he has had but little or
      no regard while living."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The object in view is a good one," said Dashall, "and I sincerely hope we
      shall succeed in our endeavours."
    </p>
    <p>
      Passing down St. James's-street, Sparkle was quickly recognized by many of
      his old acquaintances and friends, and congratulated upon his return to
      the scenes where they had, in company with him, enjoyed many a lark; and
      invitations came in as fast upon nim as the moments of life were fleeting
      away: for the present, however, all engagements were declined, till the
      principal object of his journey to London should be accomplished; and
      after inquiries about old friends, and observations upon the passing
      occurrences of the moment were over, they proceeded on their way.
      Westminster Bridge was the precise line of direction for them to pursue,
      and as fortune would have it, they had scarcely arrived at the foot of it,
      before they discovered Merrywell bustling along in an opposite direction:
      he, however, appeared rather inclined to pass without recognition or
      acknowledgment, when Sparkle turning close upon him, gave him a hearty tap
      on the shoulder, which made him as it were involuntarily turn his head.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well met," said Sparkle, "I want you."
    </p>
    <p>
      "At whose suit. Sir?" was the immediate inquiry.
    </p>
    <p>
      "To suit yourself," was a reply as quickly given.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds!" said Merrywell, "I had little idea of being tapped on the
      shoulder by an old friend&mdash;but are you indeed in earnest?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly I am, and can't be refused; but if you should be pinched for
      bail, I think I have two friends with me who will do the needful;"
      introducing Tom and Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I see how it is," continued Merrywell, "and have no objection to a joke;
      but I can't bear to have it carried too far.&mdash;How d'ye do, how d'ye
      do&mdash;can't stop&mdash;in a devil of a hurry&mdash;full of business."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[258]</span> "Zounds!" said Tom, "you are almost as
      bad as the man who having married a wife could not come; but if I may be
      so bold, whither away so fast?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "To Westminster Hall&mdash;the sessions is on&mdash;must go&mdash;law is
      like the tide, it stays for none&mdash;adieu."
    </p>
    <p>
      "We cannot part thus," said Sparkle, "I have come some miles in search of
      you, and cannot afford to be played with now."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then accompany me to Westminster Hall, and I will be at your service."
    </p>
    <p>
      "If not," replied Sparkle, "I shall enter a special detainer against you&mdash;so
      come along."
    </p>
    <p>
      They now entered Westminster Hall, where Merry well having disposed of
      some briefs and other papers into the hands of a counsellor preparatory to
      a cause coming on;
    </p>
    <p>
      "There," continued he, unow I am at your service."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then tell me," said Sparkle, "what you are at."
    </p>
    <p>
      "First," inquired Merry well, "let me know what is your object in asking
      such a question."
    </p>
    <p>
      This being briefly explained, together with the absolute necessity there
      was for his leaving town without delay&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said he, "I am at liberty to give you a sketch of circumstances
      which have befallen me since I saw you last."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come then," said Dashall, "we will proceed to Piccadilly, spend a
      comfortable afternoon, and ship you off by the mail from the White Horse
      Cellar at eight o'clock."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," was the reply. "Well, now you must understand, I am a
      sort of dabbler in professions. I was liberated from the high wall of the
      Priory by the Insolvent Debtor's Act; and since the unfortunate
      representation to the Old Boy, which deprived me of the needful supplies,
      I have tried my hand in three different ways."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And which are they?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Love, law, and literature," continued Merry well.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A very pretty combination," said Dashall, "and are you able to make them
      blend comfortably together?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[259]</span> "Nothing more easy in the world. In the
      first place, a lady has taken a fancy to me, which fancy I am willing to
      indulge; in return for which she provides me with every indulgence.&mdash;I
      profess to be principal in the office of a" lawyer of established
      practice, who suffers me to share in the profits of such business as I can
      obtain. In the way of literature I have as yet done but little, though I
      am encouraged to hope much, from the success of others. Indeed I am told,
      if I can but write libels for John Bull, I may make a rapid fortune."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And when so made," said Sparkle, "I shall wish you well with it; but I
      think the speculation I have already named much more likely to turn out
      equal to your wishes, and more consonant with your feelings, than the
      pursuit of either of those you have mentioned."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There I agree perfectly with you; and if I can make all right with the
      old gentleman, a fig for all the rest of my occupations: but you know I
      always liked independence, and if I could not get a fortune ready made, I
      had a desire to be the architect of one I should raise for myself."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why I know you have generally borne the character of a man of genius."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, and a deal my character did for me after quitting the walls. Why
      man, I happened to hear of a vacancy in a city parish school, for which I
      ventured to conceive myself duly qualified, and therefore determined to
      make application to the churchwardens, one of whom had the character of
      being a man of great power, and was said to be the first in his line in
      the three kingdoms. Away I posted, full of hope and expectation of
      becoming a second Caleb Quotem, not doubting but salary and circumstances
      would turn out exactly to my wish."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But I thought you liked independence," said Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Rather too much to engage in that concern," was the reply, "as you will
      hear presently. Upon tracing out this gentleman who bore so strong a
      recommendation to particular notice, you may guess my surprise upon
      finding 'Purveyor of sausages' in gold letters over his door."
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall burst into an irresistible laugh, and was most cordially joined by
      Sparkle and Tallyho, who were now strongly interested in the result of
      Merrywell's account.
    </p>
    <p>
      "When I arrived," continued Merry well, "this patron was reading the
      newspaper, which he threw down immediately upon my entrance, having
      mistaken me for a customer."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[260]</span> "Survaut, Sir," said he, pulling down
      his greasy waist-coat.&mdash;"I am come, Sir," said I, "to make some
      inquiry concerning a vacant school-master-ship."&mdash;"Oh there again,"
      resumed the sausage-making churchwarden,&mdash;"Vy you are the seventeenth
      fellow that has been here to-day a bothering me about this plaguy vacasey.
      How do you read? you'll have a trial before me and my brother
      representative of this parish, and my spouse will also attend the reading
      bouts. Now if so be as you minds your hits, why then may be you'll be the
      dominy. But, mind you, I don't like your sonorous voices, and my spouse&mdash;she
      knows things quite as well as I do,&mdash;she vants a great deal of
      action, so only you mind, loud and sonorous, and plenty of muscular motion
      for my spouse, that's the vay to win; but I haven't any time to talk to
      you now, you must call of an evening, when I am more at leisure, and then
      I'll explain; so move off now, Sir, move off, for I sees a customer coming&mdash;survant
      maum."&mdash;"Flesh and blood could bear no more, and so"&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;"So
      what," said Sparkle; "did you knock him down in the midst of his own
      sausages?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No, no, I knew too much of the law for that; but I cut the churchwarden,
      and bolted from the sausage-shop, determined to embrace law, physic, or
      divinity, in preference to cutting
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; The rumps
          Of little school-boy Jackies."
</pre>
    <p>
      "The study of the law was rather compulsory than voluntary, for during my
      residence in the College I was under the necessity of devoting some part
      of my time to, though I felt no great partiality for it; and you know law
      is law; and as in such, and so forth, and hereby and aforesaid, provided
      always nevertheless notwithstanding, law is like a country dance, people
      are led up and down in it till they are tired: law is like a book of
      surgery, there are a great many terrible cases in it. It is also like
      physic, they that take least of it are best off: law is like a homely
      gentlewoman, very well to follow: law is like a scolding wife, very bad
      when it follows us: law is like a new fashion, people are bewitched to get
      into it; it is also like bad weather, most people are glad when they get
      out of it."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[261]</span> "I believe that sincerely," cried the
      Hon. Tom Dashall; "for I think there are instances enough in which law has
      nothing at all to do with justice."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This remark of the Hon.  Tom  Dashall is admirably
     illustrated by the following statement:&mdash;

     Twelve People  in  one  Bail Bond fob  Ten   Pounds.&mdash;There
     are very few instances   of delinquency which  we have
     stated, that will stagger the belief of the fair
     practitioner, because they know such transactions are
     possible; their only surprise is the impunity with which
     they are committed, mixed with some regret that the
     profession is so contaminated.    The species of peculation
     we have now to submit to our readers is of singular nature;
     for we know not whether folly, impudence, or infamy, has the
     greater share in the transaction; we will therefore leave
     our readers to judge:&mdash;as to the statement of the fact, it
     is impossible we can err, as we were concerned for the
     defendants, and the case, singular as it is, was literally
     and accurately thus:&mdash;One of those unfortunate females who
     contribute to the existence of a miscreant crew of bawds,
     milliners, hair-dressers, tally-women, and many other
     reptiles of the same class, was arrested for ten pounds, at
     the house of the celebrated, or, more properly speaking,
     the notorious,  Mrs.  Johnson,  of Jermyn-street:&mdash;the
     attorney accompanied the officer; and it happened that a
     young gentleman connected with a banking-house of great
     respectability was present, whom the attorney directed to
     take in a bail bond, with the lady-abbess herself;  but as
     they were not sufficiently responsible, ten more of the
     cyprian tribe, all nuns of the same convent, were likewise
     required to execute this bond; of course they   complied.
     The  attorney, after having made  the parties acquainted
     with  the great favour he had shewn them, and the vast
     responsibility he had taken upon himself, required no more
     than two guineas for the officer and himself;   telling them
     he would give them information when any thing further was to
     be done; instead of which he took an assignment, sued out
     process, prepared declarations, and served the parties.

     The gentleman, rather alarmed at the idea of the
     circumstance being known, desired us to pay the debt and
     costs: for that purpose we applied to the attorney, and to
     our astonishment we were informed that the costs amounted to
     Thirty Pounds! for that there were twelve defendants. The
     reader cannot suppose that any thing further could pass upon
     such a preposterous subject, than giving notice of an
     application to the court, to set aside the proceedings. On
     our return home we found eleven of the defendants,
     consisting of the old brood hen and her chickens, each with
     a copy of the process in her hand. The business now most
     certainly put on the appearance of some costs. We again
     applied to the attorney, and, by way of cutting it short,
     offered him five pounds; but he, like many others who rely
     on the integrity and propriety of their practice, disdained
     a compromise, or abridgement of his lawful fees, and he was
     hardy enough to suffer the application. It is almost
     needless to say, the proceedings were set aside.    We have
     forebome to mention the name of the attorney, on account of
     the misery in which this dreadful transaction has involved
     him, a misery which amply atones for his offences, and
     deprives him of the power of ever offending again as an
     attorney. Far be it from us then to sink him deeper in the
     gulph of wretchedness: we kick not the dead lion; it is
     athletic triumphant villany against which we wage war.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[202]</span> By this time they were arrived in
      Piccadilly, where they sat down to a cheerful refreshment, and proceeded
      to make arrangements for Merry well's departure: previous to this,
      however, Dashall and his Cousin had an engagement to keep with their
      Hibernian friends, of which particulars will appear in the next Chapter.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0006" id="link42HCH0006">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XX
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          All hail to the day of the tutelar Saint,
          Old George, not the King, but the Prince of brave fellows,
          And Champion of England, by Providence sent
          To slay a fierce Dragon as histories tell us!

          And hail to the King of the first Isle on Earth,
          His fame with St. George and the Dragon who blending,
          Has chosen to celebrate this as his birth,
          The day of all others, good fortune portending.

          Away then with Care, let us haste to the Park,
          Where Buckingham-house will exhibit a levy
          Resplendent in rank, youth and beauty;&mdash;and hark!
          Hoarse cannon announce both the birth-day and Levee.

          Reverberate then, in each sea-port the roar!
          And wave England's Standard on high, from each steeple,
          And skip from the oiling, each ship, to the shore,
          And joyfully dance on dry land with the people!{1}

     1 That we may not be accused of plagiarism, we acknowledge
     ourselves indebted for the hyperbole contained in the last
     two lines of these introductory stanzas, to an original
     recommendation for a proper display of rapture, as
     contained in the following couplet by one Peter Ker, wherein
     he very humanely invites all the vessels belonging to Great
     Britain to strand themselves out of joy for the accession of
     James I.

          "Let subjects sing, bells ring, and cannons roar,
          And every ship come dancing to the shore."

     The morning of St. George's Day was ushered in, as the
     appointed anniversary of his Majesty's birth, by all the
     church-bells of the metropolis, the waving of the royal
     standard from the steeples, the display of the colours of
     all nations by the vessels in the Thames, and Cumberland
     mentions in his Memoirs, that when his father the Bishop
     revisited his estate in Ireland, an affectionate rustic hit
     upon an ingenious mode of shewing his happiness, by leaping
     from a tree, and breaking his leg! We do not find that any
     of his Majesty's loving subjects in the Park on St. George's
     Day followed the example of the Irish rustic!
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link4image-0002" id="link4image-0002">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page263.jpg" alt="Page263.jpg St. George's Day "
      width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      Other manifestations of affection by a grateful people to the best of
      Sovereigns!&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The sky was overcast, the morning lower'd,
          And heavily in clouds brought on the day."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[264]</span> But despite of wind or wet, female
      curiosity must be gratified. Miss Judith Macgilligan had some time
      previous to this auspicious day, expressed a desire to witness the gay and
      brilliant assemblage of company in progress to the Levee, and Tom and Bob
      having gallantly volunteered their services on this important occasion,
      they now sallied forth, just as the Park and Tower guns were thundering
      the announcement of festivity, and joining Sir Felix O'Grady and his aunt
      at their lodgings, the party immediately moved onward to the scene of
      action.
    </p>
    <p>
      Already had Royalty taken wing, and dignified with his presence the late
      maternal Palace, before our pedestrians reached the Park, to the great
      disappointment of Miss Macgilligan, who however consoled herself with the
      hope of being able to obtain a glimpse of monarchy as his Majesty passed
      on his return to Carlton-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Baronet in the meanwhile was in a reverie, which at last broke out in
      the following rhapsody:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Oh!  blest occasion of dispensing good,
          How seldom used, how little understood!&mdash;
          To nurse with tender care the thriving arts,
          Watch every beam philosophy imparts:
          To give religion her unbridled scope,
          Nor judge by statute a believer's hope;
          With close fidelity and love unfeign'd,
          To keep the matrimonial bond unstain'd;
          Covetous only of a virtuous praise,
          His life a lesson to the land he sways.
          Blest country where these kingly glories shine!
          Blest England, if this happiness be thine!

          But,&mdash;

          If smiling peeresses, and simp'ring peers,
          Encompassing his throne a few short years;
          If the gilt carriage and the pamper'd steed,
          That wants no driving and disdains the lead;
          If guards, mechanically form'd in ranks,
          Playing at beat of drum their martial pranks,
          Should'ring, and standing as if stuck to stone,
          While condescending majesty looks on;&mdash;
          If monarchy consists in such base things,
          Sighing, I say again, I pity Kings.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[265]</span> An immense number of splendid carriages
      now presented themselves to view, in continued and uninterrupted
      succession, stretching from the Horse Guards the whole length of the Mall,
      to Buckingham-house, where each setting down, and thence taking up a
      position in the Bird-cage Walk, they formed a circle of nearly two miles,
      and exhibited, in the magnificence of the vehicles, the admirable symmetry
      of the horses, and rich liveries of the attendants, a scene of interest,
      matchless perhaps by any other metropolis in the universe.
    </p>
    <p>
      Skirting the indeterminable line of carriages, that slowly and under
      frequent stoppages proceeded to the goal of attraction, our party
      penetrated at last the dense mass of spectators, and gaining a favourable
      post of observation, took a position adjacent to Buckingham-house, where
      the band of music of the Foot Guards within, and that of the Horse Guards
      without the iron-railing circumscribing the palace, alternately enlivened
      the scene with "concord of sweet sounds."
    </p>
    <p>
      But the great and general object of attention, was that of female
      loveliness, occupying almost every passing vehicle. Dashall remarked, that
      he had never before been gratified with such an extensive and captivating
      display. Sir Felix and the Squire were in raptures, and even the primitive
      austerity of Miss Macgilligan yielded to the influence of beauty, and
      acknowledging its predominancy, she at same time observed, that its
      fascination was enhanced by the dress of the ladies, which, though
      splendid, exhibited genuine taste, and was more remarkable for its uniform
      adherence to modesty than she had hitherto seen it on any similar
      occasion.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 We are not fastidious, neither would we wish the charms of
     youth and beauty inaccessible to admiration; but certainly
     the dress, or rather undress of our fair countrywomen, has
     of late years bordered closely on nudity.&mdash;Female delicacy
     is powerfully attractive; we were glad to observe its
     predominancy at the last Levee, and we trust that it will
     gain universal prevalence.&mdash;Edit.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[266]</span> Dashall, whose place would more
      properly have been in the circle within the palace than amongst the
      spectators without, was frequently saluted by the passing company; and
      when the fair hand of beauty waved gracefully towards him, Sir Felix felt
      happy in the friendship and society of a gentleman thus honoured with such
      distinguished recognition, and in the warmth of his feelings exclaimed
      aloud, that, "by the immortal powers, were he King of England, he would be
      more proud of the irradiating charms of these celestial visiters, than in
      the diadem of royalty and extension of empire!" This remark was
      universally acquiesced in, and most cordially so by a group of lively
      girls, to whom it had apparently given much pleasure; one of whom thanked
      the Baronet in the name of the sex, and complimented him on his gallantry,
      which she said was truly characteristic of his country.
    </p>
    <p>
      To Sir Felix an encomium from a fair lady was ever irresistible.
    </p>
    <p>
      He bowed, expressed a commensurate feeling of gratitude for the honour
      conferred upon him, and professed himself an ardent admirer of the whole
      of women kind; concluding by humming a stanza from Burns,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Auld Nature swears the lovely dears
          Her noblest work she classes, O;
          Her 'prentice han' she tried on man,
          And then she made the lasses, O."
</pre>
    <p>
      Unluckily for the apophthegm of the Baronet, it so happened, that a
      quarrel took place in the immediate vicinity and hearing of the party,
      between two rival female fruiterers of the Emerald Isle; during which
      incivilities were exchanged in language not altogether acceptable to the
      auricular organs of delicacy. The brogue was that of Munster,&mdash;the
      war of words waged quicker and faster; and from invective the heroines
      seemed rapidly approximating to actual battle. Neither park-keeper nor
      constable were at hand; and although the surrounding mobility "laughed at
      the tumult and enjoyed the storm," Sir Felix, much distressed at so
      untoward an incident, and deeply interested in the honour of his country,
      so lately the theme of elegant panegyric, dashed through the crowd, the
      component parts of which he scattered aside like chaff, and arrested the
      further progress of the wranglers.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Arrah, now, for the honour of Munster, be any, ye brats of the devil's
      own begetting!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hear him! hear him! hear the umpire!" resounded from all quarters.
    </p>
    <p>
      "May the devil make hell-broth of ye both, in his own caldron!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[267]</span> The mirth of the multitude became now
      still more obstreperous, and Tom and Bob pushed forward to the assistance
      of their friend, who was in the act of keeping the two viragos apart from
      each other, having a hand on each, and holding them at arms length,
      alternately threatening and remonstrating, while the two nymphs, with
      frightful grimaces, struggled to elude his grasp, and abide the chance of
      war;&mdash;the scene altogether would have afforded ample scope for the
      pencil of an artist; and if not edifying, was at least to a numerous and
      motley assemblage of spectators, highly entertaining. Sir Felix declined
      the assistance of his friends,&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind it," said he, "I'll settle the affair myself, my honies:" and
      slipping a half-crown piece into the hand of each of the amazons&mdash;"Now
      be off wid you," he whispered,&mdash;"lave the Park immediately;&mdash;away
      to the gin-shop;&mdash;shake hands wid each other in friendship; and drink
      good-luck to Sir Felix O'Grady."
    </p>
    <p>
      With many expressions of gratitude, the contending parties obeyed the
      mandate, and walked off lovingly together, cheek-by-jowl, as if no
      irruption of harmony had happened!
    </p>
    <p>
      "Long life to him!" exclaimed a son of green Erin; "wid a word in the ear
      he has settled the business at once."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And I pray," said a reverend looking gentleman in black, "that all
      conflicting powers may meet with like able mediation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Amen!" responded a fellow in the drawling nasil tone of a parish-clerk;
      and the congregation dispersed.
    </p>
    <p>
      The tumult thus happily subdued, Sir Felix, with Tom and Bob, rejoined
      Miss Macgilligan and the group with whom she had been left in charge when
      the two latter gentlemen came to the Baronet's relief.
    </p>
    <p>
      The "ardent admirer of the whole of women kind" sustained the jokes of the
      company with admirable equanimity of temper; and the same young lady who
      had eulogized his gallantry, now said that it was unfair, and what the
      Baronet could not possibly mean, to take his words in their literal
      acceptation; at the same time she highly commended his benevolent
      interference in the quarrel between the two women, and congratulated him
      on his address in bringing it to an amicable termination.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[268]</span> Resuming their attention to the still
      continued line of company, Dashall and his friends remarked that pearls
      were a prominent part of female ornament at the present levee;
      particularly, he said, with the galaxy of Civic beauty from the East; for
      he had recognized so decorated, several elegantes, the wives and daughters
      of aldermen, bankers, merchants and others, of his City acquaintances.{1}
      A ponderous state carriage, carved and gilt in all directions, and the
      pannels richly emblazoned with heraldry, now came slowly up the Mall, and
      Sir Felix immediately announced the approach of the Lord Mayor of the City
      of London; but as the vehicle approximated nearer towards him, he became
      lost in a labyrinth of conjecture, on perceiving, that the pericranium of
      its principal inmate was enveloped in a wig of appalling dimensions; he
      now inquired whether the profundity of wisdom was denoted by the magnitude
      of a wig; and if so, why it was not worn by the Civic Sovereign rather on
      the seat of justice, where it might operate <i>in terrorem</i> on
      delinquency, than on the happy occasion of his Majesty's anniversary; when
      Dashall unravelled the mystery, by acquainting the Baronet, that the
      personage whom he supposed to be the Lord Mayor of London, was the Lord
      High Chancellor of England.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 By what curious links and fantastical relations are
     mankind connected together. At the distance of half the
     globe, a Hindoo gains his support by groping at the bottom
     of the sea for the morbid concretion of  a  shell-fish, to
     decorate the throat of a London alerman's wife! It is said
     that the great Linnæus had discovered the secret of
     infecting oysters with  this perligenous disease; what is
     become of the secret we know not, as the only interest tee
     take in oysters, is of a much more vulgar, though perhaps a
     more humane nature.  Mr. Percival, in his Account of the
     Island of Ceylon, gives a very interesting account of the
     fishery, and of the Sea-dogs. "This animal is as fond of
     the legs of Hindoos, as Hindoos are of the pearls of
     oysters;  and as one appetite appears to him much more
     natural and less capricious' than the other, he never fails
     to indulge it."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[269]</span> The company still poured along,
      numerous and diversified, beyond all former precedent; including all the
      nobility in town, their ladies, daughters, et cetera; officers of the army
      and navy, grand crosses and knights companions of the most honourable
      order of the Bath; dignified sages and learned brethren of the law; and,
      "though last, not least in our esteem," the very right reverend Fathers in
      God, the Lords Bishops, in the costume of sacerdotal panoply; and amidst
      the fascination of female beauty, setting their affections on things
      above!{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Latimer, bishop of Worcester, speaking of the gentlemen of
     the black cloth, says,&mdash;"Well, I would all men would look to
     their dutie, as God hath called them, and then we should
     have a flourish-ing Christian common weale. And now I would
     ask a strange question. Who is the most diligentest bishop
     and prelate in all Englande, that passeth all the rest in
     doing his office? 1 can tell, for I know him who it is; I
     know him well. But now I think I see you listening and
     hearkening that I should name him. There is one that passeth
     all the other, and is the most diligent prelate and preacher
     in all Englande. And will you know who it is? I will tell
     you. It is the Devil! He is the most diligent preacher of
     all other; he is never out of his diocese; he is never from
     his cure; ye shall never fynde him unoccupyed; he is ever in
     his parish; he keepeth residence at all times; ye shall
     never fynde him out of the way; call for him when you will
     he is ever at home; the diligentest preacher in all the
     realme; no lording or loyteriug can hynder him; he is ever
     applying his busyness; ye shall never f'ynde him idle I
     warrant you."
</pre>
    <p>
      From noon until past four, visiters continued to arrive; when the
      carriages again circumscribed the Park, each taking up at the gate of
      Buckingham-house, and thence passing home by the Bird-cage Walk, and
      through the Horse Guards. The arrangements were excellent; no accident
      occurred. The Life Guards lined the Mall, and a numerous detachment of
      police-officers were on the alert throughout the day. Their indefatigable
      exertions however were not entirely available in counteracting the
      industry of the light-fingered gentry, of whom there were many on the
      look-out; and doubtless on this, as on every other occasion of public
      resort in the metropolis, they reaped the fruits of a plentiful harvest.
    </p>
    <p>
      The party sauntering along the Mall, Sir Felix observed one of the group
      with whom he was associated when viewing the company proceeding to the
      Palace, and would have entered into familiar chit-chat with him, but for
      the interposition of Dashall, who taking the Baronet aside, cautioned him
      against having intercourse with a stranger, of whom he knew nothing, but
      who had all the appearance of a black-leg.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall was an accurate observer of men and manners; and in the present
      instance his conjecture was well founded; for, in a few subsequent
      moments,
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[270]</span> What was the devil's gratitude to
      Latimer for this eulogy According to his biography, "for his zeal in the
      Protestant faith, he was, with Ridley, bishop of London, burnt at Oxford
      in 1554." this assumed gentleman was met by a reconnoitering party of the
      police, who claiming the privilege of old acquaintance, took him into
      custody as a reputed thief, to the manifest surprise and dismay of Miss
      Judith Macgilligan, who instinctively putting her hand into her pocket,
      found that her purse had vanished through the medium of some invisible
      agency. It contained, fortunately, silver only. She now mentioned her
      loss, and expressed her suspicion of the gentleman in duresse; he having
      stood close by her, for a considerable length of time, while she and her
      friends were stationary in the Mall. The officers accordingly searched
      him; but the wily adept, anticipating consequences, had disencumbered
      himself of the purse; part of the silver, however, found in his
      possession, tallied in description with that which had been lost, although
      the lady could not identify it as her property. He was conducted from the
      Park, with the view of being introduced to the recollection of the
      magistrates of the Public-office in Bow-street.
    </p>
    <p>
      During this transaction, a carriage bearing the royal arms, and attended
      by two footmen only, drove rapidly along the Mall, without attracting
      particular notice, and entering the garden-gate of Carlton-house, was
      immediately lost to public view; nor did the numerous groups who were in
      waiting to catch a transient glance of royalty, recognise in the
      unassuming inmate of this vehicle, the sacred person of his most gracious
      Majesty King George the Fourth, who was thus pleased modestly to decline
      the congratulations of his loving subjects, by eluding, incognita, their
      observation.
    </p>
    <p>
      This was a second grievous disappointment to our venerable aunt, and might
      have operated as a spell against the further enjoyment of the day; but the
      gloom of vexation was dispersed by the Esquire of Belville-hall, who
      observed, that the royal lineage of the lady might aspire to a more
      intimate knowledge of majesty than a view <i>en passant</i>, and that at
      any future levee there could not exist a doubt of the facility of Miss
      Macgilligan's introduction.
    </p>
    <p>
      A convenient and vacant bench presenting itself, the associates now seated
      themselves.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Apropos," exclaimed Sir Felix, "talking of the King, does his Majesty
      mean to honour with another visit his Hanoverian dominions this ensuing
      summer?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[271]</span> The inquiry was directed to Dashall,
      whom the Baronet was accustomed to look upon as an universal
      intelligencer.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom declared his incompetency to answer the question.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," continued Sir Felix, "were I the monarch of this empire, J would
      make myself acquainted with every part of it. A tour through England,
      Scotland, and Ireland, should be my primary object, and a visit to my
      foreign territories a subordinate consideration, I would travel from town
      to town in the land that gave me birth; like the Tudors and the Stuarts;
      with confidence in the loyalty of my people, my person should be familiar
      to them, and 1 should at all times be accessible to their complaints.
      Elizabeth and the Second James made frequent excursions into distant parts
      of the country, and every where were received with addresses of fidelity.
      Were his present Majesty to follow, in this respect, the example of his
      royal predecessors, who can doubt his experiencing the most ample and
      unequivocal demonstrations of attachment to his person and government?"
    </p>
    <p>
      The friendly associates indulged a hearty laugh at the expense of the
      visionary, although they did him the justice to believe that his
      theoretical improvements on the policy of majesty were the ebullition of a
      generous heart, warm in fraternal regard for the whole of human kind.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom, however, reminded him that the pusillanimous James II. acquired no
      popularity by his royal tours; and that the affections of the people were
      not to be gained by the merely personal condescension of the monarch.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 During the reign of King James II., and when, not unlike
     the present day, the people were much oppressed and
     burthened with taxes, that monarch having, in the course of
     a tour through England, stopt at Winchelsea, the Corporation
     resolved to address his Majesty; but as the Mayor could
     neither read nor write, it was agreed that the Recorder
     should prompt him on the occasion. Being introduced, the
     Recorder whispered the trembling Mayor, "Hold up your head,
     and look like a man." The Mayor mis-taking this for the
     beginning of the speech, addressed the King, and repeated
     aloud, "Hold up your head, and look like a man." The
     Recorder, in amaze, whispered the Mayor, "What the devil do
     you mean?" The Mayor in the same manner instantly repeated,
     "What the devil do you mean?"  The Recorder, alarmed,
     whispered more earnestly, "By G&mdash;&mdash;-d, Sir, you'll ruin us
     all."

     The Mayor, still imagining this to be a part of his speech,
     said, with all "his might, "By G&mdash;&mdash;-d, Sir, you'll ruin us
     all."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[272]</span>So slow was the progress of the vehicles
      towards the palace for the purpose of taking up their respective owners,
      that many gentlemen, whose residences were in the vicinity, rather than
      wait, preferred walking across the Park; while the unusual exhibition of a
      pedestrian in full court-dress excited no little attention from the
      multitude. Our party proceeding in their lounge, was presently met by one
      of these gentlemen, who recognizing Dashall and Tallyho, shook them
      cordially by the hand, and was introduced to Sir Felix and his Aunt, as
      Captain of the Royal Navy.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Captain, to adopt a Court phrase, was most graciously received by the
      lady; who observing he had been present at the Levee, begged that he would
      favour her with an account of what had passed.
    </p>
    <p>
      The gallant Captain, retracing his steps with his friends along the Mall,
      said, that little or nothing had occurred worthy of remark.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The drawing-room," he continued, "was crowded to such excess, that I
      should have felt myself more at ease in the bilboes; however, amidst the
      awkwardness of the squeeze, I frequently came into unavoidable contact
      with some very fine girls, and that pleasure certainly more than
      compensated all inconveniences. The King (God bless him)! perspired most
      prodigiously; for the heat was intolerable; he appeared very much
      fatigued; and 1 hope has retired with a superior relish to enjoy the
      quietude and luxury of the royal table at Carlton Palace. The
      presentations of the female sprigs of nobility were numerous, to all of
      whom he paid particular attention, in duty bound, as a gallant Cavalier
      and the best bred gentleman in Europe. Indeed, he seemed to gloat on the
      charms of those terrestrial deities with ecstacy! The introductions were
      endless, and the etiquette tiresome and monotonous. In fact, after making
      my humble congée, extrication became my only object, and I effected a
      retreat with difficulty. My stay was short, and as I had neither
      inclination nor opportunity for minute remark, I hope, Madam, that you
      will pardon my incapability of answering your inquiry in a more particular
      manner."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[273]</span> Nothing farther could be elicited. In
      truth, the Captain had left nothing untold; for his description of the
      Levee, although succinct, was correct, laying aside the enumeration of the
      <i>dramatis personæ</i>, too numerous, and in many instances perhaps too
      insignificant, for recollection.
    </p>
    <p>
      The gallant son of Neptune now took his leave, and the party continued to
      enjoy the pleasure of the promenade.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Park was still thronged with spectators, attracted by the retiring
      visitors, of whom some it seems were no welcome guests.
    </p>
    <p>
      Whether vice had contaminated the hallowed presence of Royalty, we cannot
      take upon us to say; but it appears that the sanctum sanctorum had been
      polluted by intrusion; for a notification was issued next day by the Lord
      Chamberlain, prefaced with the usual Whereas, "that certain improper
      persons had gained access to his Majesty's Levee, and stating, that in
      future no one would be admitted unless in full Court dress, including
      bag-wig, sword," &amp;c.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 As if these appendages were only within the reach of the
     higher classes of the community, and uncomeatable by
     purchase! The most depraved character may obtain the
     plausible appearance of gentility, and obtrude himself into
     the first circle of fashion. These opportunities abound in
     the metropolis; and such is the apathy of the present age,
     that the accomplished swindler, of exterior allurement,
     intermixes, <i>sans</i> inquiry, with honourable rank; and even
     where inquiry is deemed necessary, all minor considerations
     vanish before the talismanic influence of Wealth! "Is he
     rich? Incalculably so! Then, let's have him, by all means."
     Thus the initiated of Chesterfield obtain admission into
     polished society, although the Principles of Politeness
     inculcated by that nobleman, contain, as a celebrated
     lexicographer said of them, "the morals of a wh**e, and the
     manners of a dancing-master!"
</pre>
    <p>
      The party having lounged away another pleasant hour, made ultimately their
      exit from the Park by the Stable-yard, and entering Pall Mall, were
      agreeably surprised with a very interesting exhibition.
    </p>
    <p>
      During many years of the late King's reign, it was usual on the birth-day
      anniversary for the different mail coaches to pass in review before his
      Majesty in front of St. James's Palace. The custom still prevails.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the present occasion numerous spectators had assembled opposite Carl
      ton-house; and it is presumed that the Sovereign thence witnessed the
      procession, although he was not within the view of public observation.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[274]</span> Above thirty mail coaches, fresh gilt
      and painted, or in the language of churchwardens, beautified, and each
      drawn by four noble-spirited, yet perfectly tractable horses, elegantly
      caparisoned, now made their appearance. The cavalcade moved slowly onward,
      the prancing steeds impatient of restraint, and conscious of superiority.
      On the box of each vehicle was seated a portly good looking man, the
      knowing Jehu of the road, and behind was the guard, occasionally "winding
      his bugle-horn" with melodious and scientific ability. The reins and
      harness were new, so also were the royal liveries of the coachmen and
      guards. Mounted conductors led the van of the procession, while others
      accompanied it on either side; and the interest of the scene was
      considerably heightened by each coach being occupied inside by handsome
      well-dressed women and children. The rear of this imposing spectacle was
      brought up by a long train of the twopenny post-boys, all newly clothed in
      the royal uniform, and mounted on hardy ponies, chiefly of the Highland
      and Shetland breed. The cavalcade halted in front of the royal residence,
      and gave three cheers in honour of the day, which were heartily returned
      by the populace. The procession then resumed its progress by
      Charing-cross, the Strand, Fleet-street, Ludgate-hill, round St. Paul's,
      and by Cheapside into Lombard-street,
    </p>
    <p>
      Passing up the new street, the associates reached the mansion of Dashall,
      who had previously engaged his friends to dinner.
    </p>
    <p>
      An elegant repast was immediately served up, and highly enjoyed by the
      party, after such prolonged exercise and abstinence.
    </p>
    <p>
      The conversation turning on the recent interesting exhibition, it was
      universally acknowledged, that the introduction of the mail coach into the
      establishment of the General Post-office, might be classed among the
      highest improvements of the age, as amazingly accelerating the celerity of
      intercourse with all parts of the empire. Neither was the well-merited
      meed of encomium withheld from the Twopenny-post Institution, by which, so
      frequently in the course of the day, the facility of communication is kept
      up within the metropolis and suburbs, extending to all adjacencies, and
      bounded only by the limits of the bills of mortality. Dashall, who seldom
      let slip an opportunity of appropriate remark <span class="pagenum">[275]</span>
      digressed from the procession to the important national utility of the
      Post-office, and thence, by easy transition, to the sublime powers of the
      human mind, as emphatically exemplified in the invention of writing and
      printing; while Sir Felix, who was well experienced in the British poets,
      favoured his aunt with a quotation from Pope's Epistle of Heloisa to
      Abelard, subject, however, to such whimsical interpolation as he deemed
      suitable to the occasion:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid, Some antique, lovesick,
      North of Ireland maid! They live, they speak, they breathe what age
      inspires, Preposterous fondness and impure desires! The latent wish
      without a blush impart, Reveal the frailties of a morbid heart; Speed the
      neglected sigh from soul to soul, And waft a groan from Indus to the Pole!
    </p>
    <p>
      The reading of Miss Macgilligan, like her ideas, was rather on a
      contracted scale. She suspected, however, that her nephew had aimed
      against her the shafts of ridicule, and was preparing her resentment
      accordingly; when the Baronet deprecating her wrath, assured her, that he
      had recited the lines exactly as originally written, and that in the
      present clay they had no personal application, having been composed by a
      little cynical fellow many years before Miss Macgilligan came into
      existence.&mdash;The lady gave credence to the assertion, and the
      impending storm was happily averted.
    </p>
    <p>
      The residence of royalty being within the precinct of St. James's, the
      bells of the neighbouring church sounded a merry peal in the ears of the
      party; and were responded to by those of St, Martin-in-the-Fields, a
      parish of which it is remarkable that his Majesty George II. was once
      church-warden, serving the office, of course, by deputy. The steeple of
      this church, as well as those of many others in the metropolis, displayed,
      throughout the day, the royal standard, a manifestation of loyalty which
      likewise extended itself to the liquid element of old father Thames, where
      many of the vessels commemorated the anniversary by frequent salutes of
      artillery, under the decorative and splendid canopy formed by the colours
      of all nations.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[276]</span> The carriages of the foreign
      ambassadors, and those of the friends of government, were again in
      requisition, and rattled along the streets towards the several mansions of
      the members of administration, who each, in conformity with ancient usage,
      gave a grand dinner on the birth-day, at least on that appointed for its
      celebration.
    </p>
    <p>
      "At these dinners," said Dashall, "politics and etiquette are both laid
      aside; conviviality is the order of the day; the glass, the joke, the
      repartee and the 'retort courteous,' circulate freely, and all is harmony
      and good humour."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With sometimes a sprinkling of alloy," said the Squire, "I have heard
      that during the administration of Mr. Pitt, he and the Lord Chancellor
      Thurlow were frequently at variance on subjects having no reference to
      politics, and even under the exhilirating influence of the grape."
    </p>
    <p>
      The party were all attention, and the Squire proceeded&mdash;"At a cabinet
      dinner a discussion took place between the Premier and Lord Chancellor, as
      to the comparative merits of the Latin and English languages. Mr. Pitt
      gave the preference to the former, the Chancellor! to the latter; and the
      arguments on both sides were carried on with equal pertinacity.&mdash;The
      Premier would not yield a jot in opinion. Becoming at last impatient of
      opposition,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why," said he, "the English language is an ambiguity&mdash;two negatives
      make an affirmative; but in the Latin, two negatives make a positive."&mdash;"Then,"
      said the Chancellor, "your father and mother must have been two negatives,
      to make such a positive fellow as you are!"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Lord Chancellor Thurlow, although a very eccentric
     character, was yet a man of uncommon benevolence. A vacancy
     having occurred in a valuable living of which he had the
     presentation, numerous were the candidates for the benefice;
     and amongst others, one, recommended by several of the
     nobility, friends of the ministry, who made himself sure of
     the appointment, although, directly or indirectly, the
     Chancellor had not given any promise. In the meanwhile, it
     was one morning announced to his Lordship, that a gentleman,
     apparently a clergyman, waited the honour of an interview.
     The servant was ordered to shew the stranger into the
     library, whither the Chancellor shortly repaired, and
     inquired the object of the visit. "My Lord," said the
     other, "I served the office of Curate under the deceased
     Rector, and understanding that the presentation is in your
     Lordship's gift"&mdash;"You want the living," exclaimed the
     Chancellor, gruffly. "No, my Lord; my humble pretensions
     soar not so high; but I presume, most respectfully, to
     entreat your Lordship's influence with the new Incumbent,
     that I may be continued in the Curacy." Surprised and
     pleased by the singular modesty of the applicant, who had
     served the same parish as Curate above twenty years, and now
     produced the most ample testimonials of character, his
     Lordship entered into conversation with him, and found him
     of extensive erudition, and orthodox principles. He
     ascertained, besides, that this poor Curate had a wife with
     six children entirely dependent on his exertions for
     support; and that the remuneration allowed for the faithful
     discharge of arduous duties, had been only thirty pounds per
     annum. The Chancellor now promised his influence in behalf
     of the Curate, with the person who probably might succeed to
     the living. "I shall see him," added his Lordship, "this
     very day; attend me to-morrow, and you shall know the
     result." The Curate took bis leave, and in the course of the
     morning the would-be Rector made his appearance. "O!"
     exclaimed his Lordship, entering directly into the business,
     "I have had a humble suitor with me to-day,&mdash;the Curate of
     the late incumbent whom you are desirous of succeeding; he
     wishes to continue in the Curacy; the poor man is burthened
     with a large family, and hitherto has been very inadequately
     rewarded for his labour in the productive vineyard of which
     you anticipate the possession and emolument. Suppose that
     you constitute the happiness of this worthy man, by giving
     him a salary of one hundred pounds per annum; he will have
     all the duties to perform, and you will pocket a surplus,
     even then, of seven hundred a year, for in fact doing
     nothing!" This would-be was astonished; he had never before
     heard of a Curate in the receipt of one hundred pounds per
     annum; besides, he had already engaged a person to do the
     duty for twenty-five pounds. Fired with indignation at the
     inhumanity and arrogant presumption of this callous-hearted
     Clergyman,&mdash;"What!" exclaimed his Lordship, "and so you
     would turn the poor Curate out of doors, and abridge the
     miserable pittance of his successor, and all this before
     you've got the living! John, shew this fellmo down stairs!"
     Gladly would this Incumbent, by anticipation, have conceded
     every point required; but it was too late; the die was cast,
     and he found himself in the street, unknowing how he got
     there, whether on his hands or his lucls! Next day the
     Curate was announced. "I have not been able to succeed,"
     said his Lordship,&mdash;"the new Incumbent has engaged a person
     who will do the duty for twenty-five pounds per annum." His
     Lordship paused, and the unfortunate Curate looked the
     personification of Despondency. "Cheer up, man!" exclaimed
     his Lordship, "If I have not influence sufficient to
     continue you in possession of the Curacy, I can, at least,
     give you the Living!" putting into the hands, at the same
     time, of the amazed Curate, the presentation to a Rectory
     worth eight hundred pounds per annum!! Here we must draw the
     Grecian painter's veil,&mdash;the gratification on either side
     may be conceived, but cannot be expressed.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[278]</span> Sir Felix laughed heartily at this
      anecdote, and inquired of his aunt whether she knew any of the Positive
      family in the North of Ireland.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Perfectly well," retorted the lady, "they are allied to the <i>Wrongheads</i>
      of the province of Munster!"
    </p>
    <p>
      This reproof, which was hailed with applause by Tom and Bob,
      dumb-foundered the Baronet, who became suddenly taciturn; but his habitual
      good humour predominated, and conscious that he had brought on himself the
      inflicted castigation, he resolved on a cessation of hostilities for the
      remainder of the evening.
    </p>
    <p>
      The invitation by Dashall having been without formal ceremony, and
      unhesitatingly accepted by Miss Macgilligan and her nephew, they now, in
      turn, claimed the like privilege of freedom, by soliciting the company of
      the two Cousins to supper; a request which Tom and Bob cheerfully
      acquiesced in; and the party immediately set out for the Baronet's
      lodgings, preferring to walk the short distance, that they might view,
      more leisurely, the accustomed illuminations on the anniversary of his
      Majesty's birth-day.
    </p>
    <p>
      The variegated lamps were tastefully arranged; but this effusion of
      loyalty was rather of an interested than interesting description, being
      confined wholly to the public-offices, the theatres, and the different
      houses of his Majesty's tradesmen; no other habitation in this immense
      metropolis bearing any external indication of attachment, on the part of
      its occupant, to the Sovereign of the British Empire!
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here comes a set of jolly fellows," exclaimed the Baronet, as the party
      of friends turned into Bow-street from Covent-Garden, "who are at least
      determined to honour the anniversary of St. George and their Sovereign,"
      the clang of marrow bones and cleavers resounding with harsh and stunning
      dissonance.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Rather," said Dashall, "fellows determined to levy contributions on the
      public, caring as little for the actual George the King, as they do for
      the fabulous George the Champion."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Now loud and yet louder the grating din grew,
          And near and more near still the butcher-gang drew;
          Rapacious, obstrep'rous, a turbulent set,
          And bent on annoyance of all whom they met.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[279]</span> It was in vain that our party attempted
      to avoid them by crossing the street. The intention was quickly thwarted
      by these self-licensed prowlers, who intercepting our associates in the
      carriage-way, encircled them in such a manner, as to preclude the
      possibility of extrication; and raised, at the same time, a discoid of
      sounds, compared with which the vocal minstrelsy of the long-eared braying
      fraternity would have been the music of the spheres!
    </p>
    <p>
      Sir Felix, in chastisement of their arrogance, would singly have
      encountered the whole group, had he not been restrained by Tom and Bob,
      who rather than engage in a street brawl with a host of pertinacious
      adversaries, chose to yield to circumstances, and purchase freedom at the
      expense of a trifling pecuniary consideration, with which the collectors
      departed well satisfied.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our observers having thus obtained their liberty, renewed their walk, and
      reached the lodgings of the Baronet without farther interruption.
    </p>
    <p>
      During their perambulation, the following article was put into the hands
      of the Squire, with which we shall conclude our Chapter of Incidents;&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          THE KING AND THE LAUREAT.

          A  LOYAL  BIRTH-DAY  EFFUSION.

          Hail! mighty Monarch of a mighty People!&mdash;
          While tuneful peals resound from tower and steeple,
          And thundering cannons gratulations roar,
          Fright'ning old Father Thames from shore to shore;&mdash;
          For King or etiquette while nobles caring,
          To Buckingham-house by hundreds are repairing,
          With gorgeous Dames, to whom this day a bliss is;
          Accompanied by smiling lovely misses
          Of eager appetite, who long to gorge
          And batten on the favours of King George;
          While London's Mayor and Aldermen set out
          In Civic state, to grace the royal rout;
          While strut the Guards in black straps and white gaiters
          In honour of their Patron and Creators;{1}&mdash;
          While General Birnie musters all his forces
          Of foot Police, and spavin'd Police horses,
          To guard St. James's Park from innovation,
          And cheque the daringness of depredation;&mdash;
          While for those partizans who mind their manners
          The cabinet ministers prepare grand dinners,
          And I, and others of my kindred trumpery,
          Dine with the vision'ry 'yclept Duke Humphrey:{2}
          I whom the Muses sometimes deign to greet,
          Though perch'd in "garret vile" in  White-cross street,

     1 In honour of their Patron and Creators.&mdash;The poet, we
     presume, means to draw a line of distinction between the
     Military and Civic community; the one being the work of God,
     the other the creation of man.

     2 Duke Humphrey.&mdash;An ideal personage,  with whom the un-
     fortunate wight is said to dine who has not got a dinner to
     eat.

          <i>Sans</i> viands, drink, or necessary clothing,
          Reckless of fate, and even existence loathing;
          Great King amidst each various passing matter
          On this auspicious day, I will not flatter;
          Not that I cannot; aye, as well as any
          Of heretofore or present lauréat Zany!&mdash;
          But lack of payment, Sir, and lack of zeal;
          Could I your gracious bounty hope to feel,
          Invention then, on eagles wings should rise,
          And laud your nameless virtues to the skies!&mdash;

          But as it is,&mdash;all hail the King!&mdash;
          With shouts let now the welkin ring,
          And hence all doubts and fears;
          May ages yet to come obey
          The Fourth King George's lenient sway,
          Even for a thousand years!{1}

          Methinks his portly form I see,
          Encircled at this grand Levee
          By courtly lords and ladies;
          Returning every bow with smiles,
          Where selfish adulation's wiles
          A profitable trade is.

          But where, amid this grand display,
          Is Soutkey, on each natal day
          Who charm'd with Ode delicious?
          Why absent now the tuneful lore,
          Why sing not, as in days of yore,&mdash;

          Has Roy'lty grown capricious?
          Or barren is the courtly verse
          Of genuine subject, to rehearse
          The mighty monarch's fame;
          His public virtues, private worth,
          To chant in grateful measure forth,
          And o'er the world proclaim?

          Tush, man! a driveller then, thou art,
          Unequal to the merry part
          Thou undertook'st to play;&mdash;
          The Birth-day comes but once a year,
          Then tune thy dulcet notes and clear,
          Again in annual lay.

     1 When the combined fleets of England and Spain blockaded
     the port of Toulon, the Spanish Admiral terminated a
     dispatch to Lord Hood with the following notable wish,&mdash;May
     your Excellency live a THOUSAND YEARS!

          Thou, who wilt still persist to write
          In public apathy's despite,
          Can claim no just pretension
          On which to found a vague excuse;&mdash;
          Then trust, in dearth of truth, the Muse
          Prolific in invention.

          Hast thou no conscience left? alack!
          Hast thou forgot thy Pipe of Sack!
          And annual pounds two hundred?{1}
          That Hume hath not attack'd thy post,
          And caused it to give up the ghost,
          Is greatly to be wonder'd!

          But if the place must still be kept,
          Though long the princely themes have slept
          That erst the Muses lauded;&mdash;
          Give it to me, ye gods! and then
          Shall Kings, above all other men,
          Be rapturously applauded!

          Content with half that Southey shares,
          I then would drown all worldly cares,
          Yet Sack I'd not require;&mdash;
          Give me, in place of Falstaff's wine,
          A butt,&mdash;to wake the song divine,

          Of Hanbury's Entire!
          Now God preserve the comely face
          Of George the Fourth, and grant him grace
          For kindred soids to brag on!&mdash;
          May future times his deeds proclaim,
          And may he even eclipse the fame
          Of&mdash;Saint George and the Dragon.'

     1 Formerly the allowance was a pipe of sack and one hundred
     pounds; but his present Majesty, taking into his gracious
     consideration the very difficult task which the Lauréat had
     to perform, increased his salary to 200L. per annum!!
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0007" id="link42HCH0007">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Of ups and downs we daily see
          Examples most surprising,
          The high and low of each degree,
          Now falling are, now rising.

          Some up, some down, some in, some out,
          Home neither one nor t'other;
          Knaves&mdash;fools&mdash;Jews&mdash;Gentiles&mdash;join the rout,
          And jostle one another.

          By ups and downs some folks they say
          Among grandees have got, Sir,
          Who were themselves but yesterday
          The Lord knows who, or what, Sir.

          <i>Sans</i> sense or pence, in merits chair,
          They dose and dream supine 0;
          But how the devil they came there,
          That neither you nor I know."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[282]</span> The departure of Merrywell left our
      three friends at perfect liberty, and they were determined to enjoy it as
      much as possible during Sparkle's visit. The remainder of the evening was
      therefore devoted to the retracing of past events, in which they had
      formerly been engaged together, in drinking success to Merrywell's
      journey, and in laying down some plans for the proceedings of the next
      day. On the latter subject, however, there were as many opinions as there
      were persons. The Hon. Tom Dash all proposed going to the Review&mdash;Sparkle
      was for a journey to Gravesend in the steam-boat, with the religious
      friends who were to accompany Lord Gambier&mdash;and Tallyho proposed a
      visit to the Tower of London, in order to inspect its interior. It was
      therefore left undecided till the morning, which proving extremely
      inviting, they determined to sally forth, and leave the direction of their
      course wholly to chance, as they had many times done before.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[283]</span> Sparkle's relish for the sprees and
      sports of a London life, was evidently injured by his residence in the
      country; though at the same time former scenes and former circumstances
      rushing occasionally upon his sight and his recollection, appeared to
      afford him gratification and delight.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And how," said Sparkle, addressing himself to Tallyho, "do you like the
      scene of ever varying novelty&mdash;has it lost any of its charms since I
      saw you last?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "By no means," replied Tallyho; "for although many of them are grown
      familiar to me, and many are also calculated to excite painful feelings, I
      am not yet tired of the inquiry. I set out with the intention to
      contemplate men and manners as they actually are, and I conceive a useful
      lesson for instruction and improvement may be afforded by it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Right," continued Sparkle, "real life is a most excellent school; and if
      in imbibing the instruction with which it is fraught, the judgment is not
      misled, or the mind vitiated none can be more important to mankind."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come," said Tom, "I see you are getting into one of your moralizing
      strains, such as you left us with. Now I am well aware that you have an
      excellent acquaintance with the pursuits you are speaking of, and have
      enjoyed them as much as myself; nor can I conceive that your temporary
      absence has wrought such a change in your opinion, as to make you wholly
      disregard the amusements they afford. So come along, no more preaching;
      "and thus saying, he seized him by one arm, while Tallyho closed upon the
      other; and they proceeded on their way along Piccadilly towards the
      Haymarket.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Besides," continued Dashall, "every day makes a difference in this
      metropolis; so that even you who have proved yourself so able a delineator
      of men and things as they were, may still find many things deserving of
      your observation as they are."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I do not doubt it," was the reply; "and consequently expect, that having
      just arrived from rural felicity, you will direct my footsteps to the most
      novel scene of metropolitan splendour or extraordinary character."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[284]</span> "Character is an abundant and
      everlasting supply of humour and eccentricity for an observant quiz like
      yourself, and being fly to most occurrences either in town or country, I
      shall rather confine myself to the most remarkable circumstances that
      happen to strike my recollection us we proceed. The first that occurs at
      this moment, is the opening of a new establishment in Regent-street, under
      the title of the Cafe Royale, to which, as we have not yet paid a visit, I
      propose now to direct your steps."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Cafe Royale" repeated Sparkle, "there is something Frenchified in the
      sound. I suppose it is quite in the tip top stile of elegance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "So says report."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then <i>allons</i>,&mdash;but as we proceed, I beg to ask one question.
      If it be considered important in a national point of view, that the
      superior elegancies of our Parisian neighbours should be engrafted on our
      own habits, and that an establishment of this nature should be formed,
      with a view of its becoming the resort of rank and fashion, whether any
      good reason can be given why such an establishment, in an English city for
      Englishmen, should not have an English title?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "A most extraordinary question for a fashionable man."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It may be so," continued Sparkle; "but you must attribute it to my
      country habits of thinking: however, as I like argument better than
      assertion, I see no reason to abandon my question. The adoption of any
      thing foreign, is only rational in proportion as it is useful or
      agreeable; for foreign wines, foreign fruits, foreign made coffee, &amp;c.
      no one can be a greater advocate than myself; but I apprehend that these
      good things may taste as well, whether the room in which they are taken be
      called by a French or an English name."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That is a truth so self evident as to require no reply; and really I can
      give no sort of reason for the adoption of a French title, unless it be
      with a view to give it that air of novelty which invariably proves
      attractive to Johnny Bull; and I think I need not attempt to explain to
      you the importance of a title."
    </p>
    <p>
      "However," said Sparkle, "I cannot help thinking, that if the place
      alluded to is to become a permanent establishment, it would become an
      Englishman to have an English name for it. We need not be ashamed of our
      language, although some folks disdain to use it, if they can find any
      substitute, however inapt. Why should it not be called the Royal
      Coffee-house, the King's Coffee-house, the Patrician, the Universal, or in
      fact any thing, so that it be English?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[285]</span> "Because," said Tallyho, "those titles
      are already engrossed by newspaper editors, coffee-shops of a lower order,
      magazines, &amp;c.: for instance, we have the Royal Magazine, the
      Universal Magazine; and consequently these are all grown common, and any
      thing common is extremely vulgar."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Besides," continued Dashall, "<i>Cafe Royale</i> is a mouthful, without
      attacking its contents; and the very sound of it seems to impart a taste,
      before you approach it, of what may be obtained in the interior. Zounds!
      this country life of your's seems to have altered your opinions, and
      almost obliterated your former education: I never had any relish for it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In town let me live, and in town let me die, For in truth 1 can't relish
      the country, not I: If one must have a villa in summer to dwell, Oh give
      me the sweet shady side of Pall Mall."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time they had reached the Cafe Royale, and upon entrance were
      ushered by a man in blue livery, with gold laced trimmings, into an
      apartment far exceeding in splendour any thing that their previous
      conversation had led them to expect. The walls, formed of looking glass
      and rich tapestry, and ornamented in a fanciful manner, reflected their
      persons as they passed along at every point; while the choicest flowers
      and shrubs, with which they were surrounded, sent forth a delightful
      fragrance, and gave some distant idea of Eastern luxuries.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "is elegance at least; and if the
      accommodations are found to be equally good, it can be of little
      consequence to us whether the place itself have an English or a foreign
      name."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess," replied Sparkle, "that I still conceive, that as a place of
      resort appropriated to the upper ranks of natives and foreigners,
      magnificent in its decorations, superior in its accommodations, and
      conducted with skill and liberality, to become truly national and
      deserving of support, it should be honoured with an English title."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And that it certainly is," continued Dashall, "not only one but many, for
      nobility is frequently to be found within its walls; nay, a proof of it
      appears at this moment, for there is Lord P&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; and Lord
      C&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; now entering; but come, let us try the coffee,
      catch a view of the papers, and proceed."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[286]</span> They had now seated themselves near an
      elderly gentleman, who seemed to be in deep contemplation, occasionally
      rubbing his hands with apparent gratification, and shaking his head with
      importance, while he glanced over a newspaper which lay before him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I should judge," said Tallyho, "he is a member of parliament, probably
      conning over the report of his last night's speech in the House."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Or probably," said Dashall, "an author in search of ideas for his next
      publication, wherein he intends to cut up the ministers and their
      measures."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," continued Sparkle, "or a quack doctor, examining if the editor has
      given insertion to his new flaming advertisement, wherein he promises to
      perform what is utterly impossible to be accomplished."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I wonder if he can speak," said Tom, laying clown the paper; "I'll try
      him.&mdash;A fine morning, Sir."
    </p>
    <p>
      As this was directed immediately to meet the old gentleman's ear, he
      looked up for the first time since they had entered.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Beautiful, Sir," was the reply&mdash;and here the conversation ceased
      again.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Excellent coffee," said Sparkle,&mdash;"is there any news to-day, Sir?"
      endeavouring to rouse him again.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is always news, Sir," was the reply, taking a plentiful supply of
      snuff.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Of one sort or other," continued Bon.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why yes, have we not every day a quantity of newspapers that make their
      appearance with the sun?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Truly," replied Sparkle; "but you could hardly misunderstand me&mdash;I
      alluded to something out of the common run of events; such, for instance,
      as relates to the interests of the nation, the agricultural distress, the
      distress of the Irish, the state of the American independents, the
      proceedings of the Spanish cortes, and the French chamber; the movements
      of the Greeks, the operations of Turkey and Russia, or the&mdash;or&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, Sir, your inquiries are very rational; and as I perceive you have a
      desire for intelligence, and I have at all times a desire to impart such
      as I am in possession of for the benefit of others, the newspapers have
      abundance of information; but I must say the editors, though men of
      education and intelligence, are not always well informed: besides, Sir,
      there is no reliance on their assertions; many valuable and important
      secrets are in the hands of individuals, which never find their way into
      the public journals."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[288]</span> Having proceeded thus far, our three
      friends were all anxiety to continue what now assumed the appearance of an
      interesting conversation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The nation is gull'd by misrepresentation, from the high to the low one
      system is acted upon; but I have a document in my pocket which came into
      my possession in rather an extraordinary manner, and is as extraordinary
      in its contents; it was thrust into my hand on my way here by a stranger,
      who instantly disappeared."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A curious salute," observed Tom; "probably some state paper, some
      information on foreign affairs, or a petition to be presented to the
      House."
    </p>
    <p>
      "The fact is, Sir, as I had no conversation with the stranger, I was
      ignorant of the importance of the document; but upon opening it, judge of
      my astonishment, when I found it concerned a Prince well known to the
      British nation, whose interests depend on its support."
    </p>
    <p>
      "O ho," said Sparkle, "then perhaps it is of a delicate nature, and more
      attaching to private circumstances than public affairs."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You shall hear, Sir.&mdash;It was an appeal to myself, amongst others, in
      which Russia was stated to be in such connection with Greece, that the
      heads of this kingdom could not but be conscious of the important results;
      results, Sir, that were enough to make one's hair stand on end; indeed, I
      have never been able to dismiss the subject from my mind since I first
      cast my eye over the information."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds, then," cried Dashall, "there is much to be apprehended."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is impossible for me," continued the old gentleman, "to say how far
      the distinguished person to whom I have alluded has already, or may
      hereafter succeed in the objects he has in view; but this I think certain,
      that if he can but interest the Poles on his side, his affairs must
      thrive."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Hon. Tom Dashall by this time was puzzled with the lengthened
      introduction this gentleman was giving; he sipped his coffee&mdash;looked
      grave&mdash;smiled, took up the paper&mdash;pretended to read&mdash;then
      laid it down again.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[288]</span> Sparkle looked wise, and betrayed his
      anxiety by moving closer to the communicant. Tallyho fixed his eyes on the
      old gentleman, with an apparent desire to count the words he uttered.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the meantime," continued the interesting stranger, "he is so
      indefatigable in diffusing through all ranks of society, by means of the
      press and private agents, a knowledge of the power he has of smoothing the
      way to success, that the crown ought to receive his proffered aid for its
      own benefit."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," said Sparkle, "it really is a document of public importance: if
      not too great a favour, might we be allowed a sight of the&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "The document,&mdash;Oh certainly, Sir," said he, hastily rising and
      drawing a printed paper from his pocket; "I will leave it with you:" then
      throwing it on the table, he made a precipitate retreat.
    </p>
    <p>
      The little care which the old gentleman seemed to take of this scrap of
      importance, struck them all with wonder.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A rum old codger," said Tom; "and I recommend his observations, as well
      as the produce of his pocket, to the serious consideration of our friend
      Sparkle, who will perhaps read this paper for the benefit of us all."
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle, who by this time had unfolded this mysterious paper, burst into a
      hearty laugh; and as soon as he could command his risibility, he read as
      follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      "PRINCE'S RUSSIA OIL, For promoting the growth of Hair."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And Sparkle introduced to Greece," said Tom.&mdash;"Well, the old buck
      has paid you off for your interruption: however, he has certainly proved
      his own assertion, that there is no reliance on any body."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A mountain in labour," continued Tom,&mdash;"I think he had you in a
      line, however."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I cannot help thinking," replied Sparkle, "that there is a great
      similarity between him and some of our most popular parliamentary orators,
      for he has said a great deal to little purpose; but come, let us move on,
      and lose no more time in the French coffee house, discussing the merits or
      virtues of Russia oil."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[289]</span> This proposition being acceded to, our
      friends now took their way along Pall Mall, where the improvements
      recently made struck Sparkle with pleasure and delight; the appearance of
      new and elegant houses occupying the situation of buildings of a shabby
      and mean exterior, and the introduction of new streets, were subjects of
      considerable admiration.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The rapidity of alterations in London," said Sparkle, "are almost
      inconceivable."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That remark," replied Tom, "only arises from your late absence from the
      scene of action; for to us who frequently see their progress, there is but
      little to excite wonder. Now for my part I am more astonished in present
      times, when so many complaints are made of distress, that occupiers can be
      found for them, and also seeing the increase of buildings at every part of
      the environs of London, where tenants can be found to occupy them."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess," said Tallyho, "that is a subject which I have often thought
      upon without being able to come to any reasonable conclusion; it appears
      to me to prove a great increase of population, for although I am aware of
      the continued influx of new comers from the country, the towns and
      villages appear as full as ever."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am not able to solve the mystery to my own satisfaction," replied
      Sparkle, "in either case, though I cannot help acknowledging the facts
      alluded to. It however seems in this place to prove the correctness of the
      Poet's lines, who says,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Wherever round this restless world we range,
          Nothing seems constant saving constant change.
          Like some magician waving mystic wand,
          Improvement metamorphoses the land,
          Grubs up, pulls down, then plants and builds anew,
          Till scenes once loved are banished from our view.
          The draughtsman with officious eye surveys
          What capabilities a site displays:
          How things may be made better for the worse,
          And much improve&mdash;at least the schemer's purse."
</pre>
    <p>
      Continuing their course along Parliament-street, they soon arrived at
      Westminster-bridge, when the day proving extremely fine, it was proposed
      to embrace the opportunity of making an excursion by water. The tide
      served for London Bridge, and without further ceremony, Tom, Bob, and
      Sparkle jumped into a wherry, and were quickly gliding along upon the
      bosom of Old Father Thames. The smiling appearance of the day, and the
      smooth unruffled surface of the water, excited the most cheerful and
      enlivening feelings of the mind.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[290]</span> "Nice weather for the rowing match,"
      said a bluff looking sturdy built waterman, who had doffed his coat,
      waistcoat, and cravat, in order to facilitate him in performing his duty.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Rowing match," inquired Tom. "When does it take place?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why this afternoon at four o'clock, your Honour. Vauxhall will be very
      full to-night,&mdash;Them ere people what's got it now are a getting
      plenty of company, and they will have a bumper to-night, for the gentlemen
      what belongs to the funny club gives a funny to be rowed for."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That's funny enough," exclaimed Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And convenient too," said Tom; "for as we have no engagement for the
      evening, we can mingle with the lads on their water frolic."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," said Bob; "and as I am given to understand Vauxhall
      is greatly improved, it will make an admirable wind up of the day."
    </p>
    <p>
      Approaching Waterloo Bridge&mdash;"What have we here," exclaimed Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," said Tom, "is a floating fire engine, for the protection of
      shipping, and sometimes very useful in cases of fire on the banks of the
      river."
    </p>
    <p>
      "An excellent idea," continued Bob, "because they can never be in want of
      water."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Will you sit a little more this way, Sir, if you please? we shall trim
      better."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob rose hastily upon this intimation; and had not his Cousin caught him
      by the coat, would have trimmed himself into the watery element.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds, man, you had nearly upset us all. You must trim the boat, and sit
      steady, or we shall all go to Davey's locker. You must not attempt to
      dance in such a vehicle as this."
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob's confusion at this circumstance created laughter to his two friends,
      which however he could not exactly enjoy with the same relish; nor did he
      perfectly recover himself till they were safely landed at Tower Stairs.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said Tom, "I propose a peep at the interior of this place, a row
      down to Greenwich to dinner, and then a touch at the rowing match; what
      say you&mdash;agreed on all hands."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[291]</span> "Then," said the Hon. Tom Dashall,
      "wait for us here old boy, and you shall be our conveyancer."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I don't know nothing of you, gentlemen; and you understand me, I'm not a
      going to be done&mdash;I'm too old a hand to be catch'd in that there
      fashion; but if so be you engages me for the day, you can take the number
      of my boat&mdash;but then you must tip."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Right," said Sparkle, "who knows whether we shall escape the Lions, and
      then how is old rough and tough to get paid."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You'll excuse me, gentlemen, I don't mean no affront upon my soul; but I
      have stood the nonsense before now, and been flung&mdash;but I von't be
      sarved out in that there way any more. I am up to the gossip, and expects
      you'll come down with the rag."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly," said Tom Dashall with a smile; "I am aware of the hint, which
      by the way is pretty broadly conveyed, therefore be satisfied; "and giving
      him a sovereign, they proceeded into the Tower.
    </p>
    <p>
      The entrance to the Tower from the wharf is by a drawbridge, near to which
      is a cut connecting the river with the ditch, having a water gate, called
      Traitor's Gate; state prisoners having been formerly conveyed by this
      passage from the Tower to Westminster for trial; and over this gate is the
      water-works which supply the fortress.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having passed the drawbridge, Bob looked around him, almost conceiving
      himself in a new world; he saw houses and streets, of which he had formed
      no conception.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds," said he, "this Tower seems almost to contain a City."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," replied Dashall, "it occupies some ground. Its extent within the
      walls is twelve acres and five roods. The exterior circuit of the ditch,
      which entirely surrounds it, is 3156 feet. The principal buildings are the
      Church, the White Tower, the Ordnance Office, the Record Office, the Jewel
      Office, the Horse Armoury, the Grand Store House, the small Armoury, the
      houses belonging to the Officers, barracks for the Garrison, and two
      Suttling Houses for the accommodation of the military and the
      inhabitants."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[292]</span> The White Tower, as it is called, is a
      large square building in the centre of the fortress; on the top of which
      are four watch towers, one being at present used as an observatory.
      Neither the sides of this building, nor the small towers, are uniform. The
      walls are whitewashed: near to it is the grand storehouse, a plain
      building of brick and stone, 345 feet long, and 60 feet broad.
    </p>
    <p>
      Being conducted to the Spanish{1} armory, Tallyho was much gratified with
      a view of its contents&mdash;trophies of the famous victory of Queen
      Elizabeth over the Spanish armada, among which the most remarkable were
      the thumb screws, intended to be used in order to extort confession from
      the English, where their money was hidden. The axe with which the
      unfortunate Anne Bullen was beheaded by order of Henry VIII.; a
      representation of Queen Elizabeth in armour, standing by a cream-coloured
      horse, attended by a page, also attracted his attention; her majesty being
      dressed in the armour she wore at the time she addressed her brave army at
      Tilbury, in 1588, with a white silk petticoat, richly ornamented with
      pearls and spangles. In the Small Armory, which is one of the finest rooms
      in Europe, containing complete stands of arms for 100,000 men, they could
      not but admire the beautiful and elegant manner in which the arms were
      disposed, forming tasteful devices in a variety of figures: a piece of
      ordnance from Egypt, and the Highland broadsword, also claimed particular
      notice.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The Spanish Armory, Small Armory, Train of Artillery, and
     Horse Armory, may be seen at the price of 2s. each person,
     with a compliment per company to the Warder.
</pre>
    <p>
      The Volunteer Armory, containing arms piled in beautiful order for 30,000
      men, with pikes, swords, &amp;c. in immense numbers, presented to them a
      fine figure of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, in bright armour, bearing
      the very lance he actually used in his lifetime, which is no less than 18
      feet long. The Sea Armory, containing arms for nearly 50,000 seamen and
      marines, and the Royal Artillery, which is partly kept on the ground floor
      under the Small Armory, next underwent inspection. Here they could not
      help admiring the room, which is 380 feet long, 50 feet wide, and 24 feet
      high, and the many peculiarly fine pieces of cannon which it contained.
      The artillery is ranged on each side, leaving a passage in the centre of
      ten feet in breadth. Twenty pillars in this room support the Small Armory
      above, which are hung round with implements of war, and trophies taken
      from the enemy, producing altogether a grand and imposing effect.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[293]</span> The Horse Armory&mdash;a noble room,
      crowded with curiosities&mdash;proved a source of high gratification. Here
      they found themselves in company with all the kings of England, from
      William the Conqueror to George III.; the whole on horseback, and in
      armour. The armour of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, seven feet high,
      and the sword and lance of proportionable size, were viewed as objects of
      wonder.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the Jewel Office,{1} containing the regalia of state, was the next
      object to which they directed their attention. Here they were shewn the
      Imperial Crown, with which the Kings of England are crowned: it is made of
      gold, enriched with diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and pearls. The
      cap is of purple velvet, lined with white taffety, and turned up with
      three rows of ermine. This crown is never used but at coronations; the
      golden globe, which is placed in the King's right hand before he is
      crowned; the golden sceptre and its cross, upon a large amethyst,
      decorated with table diamonds; the sceptre, which is considered to be far
      the most ancient in the collection, and probably a part of the original
      regalia, is covered with jewels and gothic enamel work, surmounted with an
      onyx dove, was found by the present keeper in the year 1814, and is
      estimated at a very high value. St. Edward's staff, made of beaten gold,
      and which is borne before the King in the coronation procession, is 4 feet
      7 inches and a half in length, and 3 inches and 3 quarters round. The
      golden saltseller, the sword of mercy without a point, the grand silver
      font, used for christenings of the royal family, and the crown of state
      worn by the King at his meeting of the Parliament, and other state
      occasions, were viewed in succession with admiration and delight. The
      latter is of great splendour and value; it is covered with precious stones
      of a large size, and on the top of its cross is a pearl, which Charles I.
      pledged for eighteen thousand pounds to the Dutch Republic: under the
      cross is an emerald diamond, of a palish green colour, valued at one
      hundred thousand pounds, being seven inches and
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The Jewel Office is shewn for 1s. each person in company;
     a single person pays 1s. 6d.: it may be seen separately, but
     not without a Warder.
</pre>
    <p>
      a half in circumference; in the front is a rock ruby in its purely natural
      state, unpolished, three inches in length, the value of which cannot be
      estimated. Several other curiosities of state regalia&mdash;such as the
      golden eagle, the golden spur, the crown of Queen Mary, the cross of King
      William, and the diadem worn by the Queens Anne and Mary, were numbered
      among the valuable jewels contained in this office, together with
      abundance of curious old plate, the value of which, independent of several
      of the jewels, which are inestimable, is not less than two millions
      sterling.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[294]</span> "Now," said Dashall, as they left the
      Jewel Office, "we have taken a view of the inanimates, we must not leave
      the spot without a peep at the lions;{l} for though I believe there is
      nothing very extraordinary in the collection, more than may be seen at the
      menagerie at Exeter Change, it would be an unpardonable omission not to
      see the lions in the Tower."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The wild beasts, &amp;c. are shewn at 1s. each.
</pre>
    <p>
      For this purpose they proceeded to the western entrance, where they were
      quickly introduced by the keeper to the various animals under his care,
      and who, in going round with them, explained, as usual, their several
      histories.
    </p>
    <p>
      In examining these various curiosities, time had imperceptibly stolen a
      march upon them, and their original plan of proceeding to Greenwich was
      found to be impracticable; besides which, upon reaching the stairs where
      they had landed, the bluff old waterman was not to be found.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds," said Dashall, "this looks like a do. I wonder what's become of
      the old blade."
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle began to laugh, and Bob bit his lip. Tom made inquiry of a boy at
      the stairs, who informed him that Barney was gone to the suttling house to
      smoak a pipe.
    </p>
    <p>
      "All right," said Tom, "then we will soon rouse him, and start."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this they moved back again into the Tower, and according to the
      directions they had received, they found Barney in the tap-room, puffing
      away care, and singing with Stentorian voice to the surrounding company&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "From Irongate to Limehouse Hole,
          You will not meet a kinder soul,
          While the Thames is flowing,
          Pull away ho&mdash;Pull away ho."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[295]</span> In search of real life and character,
      and at all times rather inclined to promote mirth than spoil sport, our
      friends immediately entered unperceived by Barney, and taking an opposite
      corner of the room, were quickly attended by the landlord, who received
      orders, and produced them supplies.
    </p>
    <p>
      The song being over, and Barney rewarded for his exertions by the most
      enthusiastic applause of the room, he renewed his pipe, at the same time
      declaring to a soldier who sat near him, he thought "he had miss'd fire,
      for he was d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d if he didn't think he'd lost his
      company, or his company had lost him&mdash;but that he had taken care to
      nibble the blunt, and upon that there score all was right&mdash;so
      landlord tip us another quart, and if they don't make their appearance by
      the time I've got through that, I'll tip them the toddle, shove off my
      boat, and disappear.&mdash;That's the time of day, an't it, boy."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why aye, to be sure," replied the soldier, "you watermen leads a happy
      life; you are your own masters, you does just as you pleases, while a
      soldier dare as well be d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d as desert his post. But I
      say, Barney, mind what
    </p>
    <p>
      you says,&mdash;nose&mdash;nose;" accompanying the last two words with a
      significant action of placing his finger on his nose, and winking his eye.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this intimation, which appeared to be well understood by Barney, he
      puffed off an immoderate cloud of smoke, and looking round the room,
      perceived his customers in the corner.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Be quiet," said he, "that's my fare&mdash;so it's all right again,&mdash;Do
      you want me, gentlemen; I am always ready, so that whenever you says the
      word, Barney's your boy."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Presently," said Dashall, "for it would be hard to make you start upon a
      full jorum."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why I must say," continued Barney, "I never likes to leave a foaming
      quart behind me;" and catching hold of the pot of <i>heavy wet</i>, he
      roared out,&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "What a hearty blade am I,
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Care can never touch my heart;
          Every trouble I defy,
          While I view the foaming quart."
</pre>
    <p>
      and taking a hearty drink, he handed it to his companion, filled his pipe
      afresh, lighted, and informed the gentlemen he was at their service; when
      in a few minutes all being ready, they were quickly on board.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[296]</span> "I don't like the looks of the weather,
      my masters, why we shall have a shower presently, where will you go to?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "To Vauxhall," was the reply.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very well, your Honour, then here goes; but if you don't get a sousing,
      my name an't Barney."
    </p>
    <p>
      This prognostication proved true, for before they reached Blackfriars
      Bridge, a smart shower came on, which nearly wetted them through before
      they could reach land. When this was accomplished, they proceeded to the
      Horn Tavern, Doctors Commons, where they partook of an excellent repast,
      and the weather clearing up, they again joined Barney.
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time the promising fineness of the evening had induced many to
      venture forth to the rowing match, and the river was all gaiety and
      delight. Boats of every description were seen filled with well dressed
      persons, both male and female: the smiling countenances of the lads and
      lasses were in unison with the laughing sun, that darted his brilliant
      beams upon the dimpled wave, which seemed to leap in return with grateful
      animation. The shores were lined with spectators, anxiously waiting the
      moment for the commencement of this trial of skill. Our friends were
      highly delighted with the prospect before them, and at the appointed time,
      having rested on their oars near the place of starting, they saw with
      pleasure the active preparations on the part of the competitors, and upon
      the signal being given for the start, the river appeared to consist of
      nothing but moving conveyances of happy faces, all guided in one
      direction. The 'shouts of the various friends of the occasionally
      successful candidates for the honour of victory, and the skill and
      dexterity with which they manoeuvred against each other, were subjects of
      continued admiration; while bands of music were heard from boats that
      intermingled with the throng. The lads of the Funny Club were in high glee&mdash;numerous
      cutters and sailing boats, with their owners and visiting friends, were
      also in the throng. Barney pulled away like a good one, and for a
      considerable distance kept nearly up with the principal actors in this gay
      and animated scene of aquatic diversion, and arrived off Cumberland
      gardens just in time to have an excellent view of the winner coming in at
      the appointed spot, in prime style, amidst the loud and reiterated
      plaudits of his friends.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[297]</span> The intention of visiting Vauxhall
      Gardens was, however, for the present evening relinquished; and our party,
      feeling fatigued by their excursion, repaired homeward, where for the
      present we shall leave them to their quiet and repose.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0008" id="link42HCH0008">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "I hate that drum's discordant sound,
          Still rolling round and round and round,"
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[298]</span> Exclaimed Dashall, as he advanced from
      the breakfast table towards the window, when a pleasing and singular
      street-exhibition presented itself, which had attracted around a numerous
      audience, of all ages and conditions.
    </p>
    <p>
      An itinerant purveyor of novelties was in the act of showing forth to an
      admiring crowd, the docility of a tame hare. On a table in the street, on
      which was placed a drum, the little animal stood, in an erect posture, and
      with surprising tractableness obeyed the commands of its exhibiter,
      delivered in very broken English, with which, nevertheless, it seemed
      perfectly conversant.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Vat mattiere now, dat you be so solky, and no take notice of your goot
      friends?&mdash;Come, Sare, shew your politesse, and salute de genteelmens
      at de window, who so kind as come to look at you.&mdash;Make way dere,
      goot peoples and leetel childer, dat de genteelmens sail see,&mdash;dat
      vill do. Now, sare, begin;&mdash;do your beisance all round."
    </p>
    <p>
      The animal, without any apparent instruction to whom to give the
      precedency of obeisance, immediately faced "de genteelmens at de window,"
      and saluted them with a conge of particular respect; which being
      acknowledged with a motion of the hand by Dashall, the intelligent animal
      expressed its sense of his complacency, by a second obeisance, more
      profound than the first.
    </p>
    <p>
      The spectators applauded, and the performer testified its gratitude by a
      bow, all round.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dat all goot. Now, sare, tree role on de drom for <i>le Roi
      d'Angletterre:&mdash;Vive le Roi d'Anglettere!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      This command the animal very promptly obeyed, by substituting its fore
      feet for sticks, and giving three prolonged rolls of the drum, each in
      distinct succession.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now den for Messieurs."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[299]</span> With equal alacrity this hint was
      attended to, and as <i>le Roi d'Angletterre</i> had three, so de
      genteelmens at de window were honoured with two rolls of the drum.
    </p>
    <p>
      The like compliment was paid to all de Englise peoples; and the minor
      salute of one roll was given to the surrounding spectators.
    </p>
    <p>
      The indefatigable drummer was next required to give a token of regard for
      the Cook; but this he declined to do, and the order, though frequently
      given, was as frequently uncomplied with.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Vill you take notice of me, den?"
    </p>
    <p>
      This question was instantly answered by the accustomed mark of respect.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Genteelmans at de window, and peoples on de street, my leetel drommer no
      love de cook,&mdash;no show her de respect dat he show you&mdash;he know
      dat de cook be no friend of de pauvre hare; "&mdash;then turning towards
      the animal, &mdash;"Vat," said he, "must I speak all de tanks mineself?"
    </p>
    <p>
      In deficiency of speech, the animal reiterated its obeisances&mdash;
      "Diable!" exclaimed the exhibiter&mdash;"here comes de cook, to kill and
      spit you!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The hare instantly hastened to its hiding place, and thus terminated the
      exhibition.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This epitome of the world," observed Tallyho, "lacks nothing to gratify
      every sense of man! Here industry is on the alert to accumulate wealth,
      and dissipation in haste to spend it. Here riot and licentiousness roll
      triumphantly in gilded state, while merit pines in penury and obscurity;&mdash;and
      here ingenuity roams the streets for a scanty and precarious subsistence,
      exhibiting learned pigs, dogs, and so forth, that will cast accounts with
      the precision of an experienced arithmetician; and a tame hare that will
      beat a drum, and make a bow more gracefully than a dancing-master. This
      last instance of human ingeniousness, by which the poor Frenchman picks up
      a living, would almost induce a belief that the power of art is
      unlimitable, and that apparently insurmountable difficulties may be
      overcome by diligent perseverance!&mdash;Who, besides this foreigner,
      would have thought of divesting a hare of its natural timidity, and
      rendering it subservient, by a display of intelligence, to the acquirement
      of his subsistence?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[300]</span> "And who," said Dashall, "would have
      thought, but a German, of training canary-birds to imitate military
      evolution,&mdash;make a prisoner of one of their fellows as a deserter,&mdash;try
      and condemn him to death,&mdash;apparently execute the sentence, by
      shooting him with a small gun,&mdash;and finally, bear away the motionless
      and seemingly lifeless body on a wheel-barrow, for interment!&mdash;Nay,
      who would think of inverting the order of nature, by creating and
      cementing a union of friendship between cats and birds and mice,
      associating them together, within the confines of a cage, in the utmost
      harmony of social intercourse?&mdash;And who shall presume to set bounds
      to the human art, that from a deal board has constructed the figure of a
      man that will beat at the difficult game of chess, the first players in
      Europe;{1} and created a wooden musician, that in a solo from the trumpet,
      will excel the best living performers on that instrument!"
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 It appears by the following letter from Presburg, in
     Hungary, that this wonderful automaton was originally
     invented and exhibited there:&mdash;

     "During my stay in this city, I have been so happy as to
     form an acquaintance with M. de Kempett, an Aulic Counsellor
     and Director General of the salt mines in Hungary. It seems
     impossible to attain to a more perfect knowledge of
     Mechanics, than this gentleman hath done. At least no artist
     has yet been able to produce a machine, so wonderful in its
     kind, as what he constructed about a year ago. M. de
     Kempett, excited by the accounts he received of the
     extraordinary performances of the celebrated M. de
     Vaucanson, and of some other men of genius in Prance and
     England, at first aimed at nothing more, than to imitate
     those artists. But he has done more, he has excelled them.
     He has constructed an Automaton, which can play at chess
     with the most skilful players. This machine represents a man
     of the natural size, dressed like a Turk, sitting before the
     table which holds the chess-board. This table (which is
     about three feet and a half long, and about two feet and a
     half broad) is supported by four feet that roll on castors,
     in order the more easily to change its situation; which the
     inventor fails not to do from time to time, in order to take
     away all suspicion of any communication. Both the table and
     the figure are full of wheels, springs, and levers. M. de
     Kempett makes no difficulty of shewing the inside of the
     machine, especially when he finds any one suspects a boy to
     be in it. I have examined with attention all the parts both
     of the table and figure, and I am well assured there is not
     the least ground for such an imputation. I have played a
     game at chess with the Automaton myself. I have particularly
     remarked, with great astonishment, the precision with which
     it made the various and complicated movements of the arm,
     with which it plays. It raises the arm, it advances it
     towards that part of the chess-board, on which the piece
     stands, which ought to be moved; and then by a movement of
     the wrist, it brings the hand down upon the piece, opens the
     hand, closes it upon the piece in order to grasp it, lifts
     it up, and places it upon the square it is to be removed to;
     this done, it lays its arm down upon   a   cushion   which
     is   placed   on   the   chess-board.    If  it ought to
     take one of its adversary's pieces, then by one entire
     movement, it removes that piece quite off the chess-board,
     and by a series of such movements as 1 have been describing,
     it returns to take up its own piece, and place it in the
     square, which the other had left vacant. I attempted to
     practise a small deception, by giving the Queen the move of
     a Knight; but my mechanic opponent was not to be so imposed
     on; he took up my Queen and replaced her in the square she
     had been removed from. All this is done with the same
     readiness that a common player shews at this game, and I
     have often engaged with persons, who played neither so
     expeditiously, nor so skilfully as this Automaton, who yet
     would have been extremely affronted, if one had compared
     them to him. You will perhaps expect me to propose some
     conjectures, as to the means employed to direct this machine
     in its movements. I wish I could form any that were
     reasonable and well-founded; but notwithstanding the minute
     attention with which I have repeatedly observed it, I have
     not been able in the least degree to form any hypothesis
     which could satisfy myself. The English ambassador, Prince
     Guistiniani, and several English Lords, for whom the
     inventor had the complaisance to make the figure play, stood
     round the table while I played the game. They all had their
     eyes on M. de Kempett, who stood by the table, or sometimes
     removed five or six feet from it, yet not one of them could
     discover the least motion in him, that could influence the
     Automaton. They who had seen the effects produced by the
     loadstone in the curious exhibitions on the Boulevards at
     Paris, cried out, that the loadstone must have been the
     means here employed to direct the arm. But, besides that
     there are many objections to this supposition, M. de
     Kempett, with whom I have had long conversations since on
     this subject, offers to let any one bring as close as he
     pleases to the table the strongest and best-armed magnet
     that can be found, or any weight of iron whatever, without
     the least fear that the movements of his machine will be
     affected or disturbed by it. He also withdraws to any
     distance you please, and lets the figure play four or five
     moves successively without approaching it. It is unnecessary
     to remark, that the marvellous in this Automaton consists
     chiefly in this, that it has not (as in others, the most
     celebrated machines of this sort) one determined series of
     movements, but that it always moves in consequence of the
     manner in which its opponent moves; which produces an
     amazing multitude of different combinations in its
     movements. M. de Kempett winds up from time to time the
     springs of the arm of this Automaton, in order to renew its
     MOVING FORCE, but this, you will observe, has no relation to
     its guiding FORCE or power of direction, which makes the
     great merit of this machine. In general I am of opinion,
     that the contriver influences the direction of almost every
     stroke played by the Automaton, although, as I have said, I
     have sometimes seen him leave it to itself for many moves
     together; which, in my opinion, is the most-difficult
     circumstance of all to comprehend in what regards this
     machine. M. de Kempett has the more merit in this invention,
     as he complains that his designs have not always been
     seconded by workmen so skilful as was requisite to the exact
     precision of a work of this nature; and he hopes he shall,
     ere long, produce to the world performances still more
     surprising than this. Indeed one may expect every thing from
     his knowledge and skill, which are exceedingly enhanced by
     his uncommon modesty. Never did genius triumph with less
     ostentation."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[302]</span> "London is a rare place for sights,&mdash;always
      something new;&mdash;where the spirits need never flag through want of
      amusement. Let me recapitulate,&mdash;there is the automaton chess-player
      and the automaton trumpeter,&mdash;the family compact, alias amicable
      society of cat, birds, and mice,&mdash;the military canaries, and an
      hundred phenomena besides, of which we shall make the round in due time.
      In the meanwhile, let us set out, like the knight of La Mancha, in search
      of adventures, without running the risk of mistaking windmills for giants:
      one of the former would, indeed, be a high treat to the insatiable
      curiosity of the inhabitants of this metropolis; and as to giants, there
      are none on shew since Bartholomew-fair, excepting those stationary
      gentlemen, the twin-brothers, Gog and Magog, in Guildhall."
    </p>
    <p>
      Passing through the town without meeting with any new object worthy of
      particular notice, they found themselves at the extremity of
      Threadneedle-street, when Dashall, pointing to a neat plain building,
      "this," said he, "is the South Sea House. The South Sea Company was
      established for the purpose of an exclusive trade to the South Seas, and
      many thousands were ruined by the speculation: the iniquity and deception
      were at last discovered, and those who were at the head were punished. The
      eager hope of wealth frequently engenders disappointment,&mdash;but here
      credulity attained her zenith;&mdash;amongst other schemes, equally
      practicable, the projectors of this notorious bubble set up a method of
      making butter from beech-trees; a plan to learn people to cast their
      nativity; an insurance against divorces; and a way of making deal boards
      out of saw-dust!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "And is it possible," inquired Tallyho, "that such most preposterous
      theories obtained belief?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Even so," answered Dashall,&mdash;"What is there in which human folly
      will not believe?&mdash;We have all read of the bottle-conjurer.{1}&mdash;The
      prevalence of curiosity is universal. I could safely stake any money, that
      if public notice was given of a person who would leap down his own throat,
      he would gain belief, and a full audience would favour him with their
      company to witness his marvellous performance."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 This speculator by wholesale in English credulity,
     advertised, "that he would, in the Haymarket theatre,
     literally and <i>bona fide</i> creep into a quart bottle; and
     further, would, when inside such quart bottle, entertain the
     audience with a solo on the violin!"

     Long before the appointed hour of performance, the house was
     crammed at all points, and thousands were sent from the
     doors for want of room. The most eager curiosity prevailed
     as the time drew near for the commencement of these
     extraordinary feats, and the clamour for the appearance of
     the performer was incessant and vociferous. At last he came
     forward upon the stage, and all was breathless attention.
     "Ladies and gentlemen, I am sorry to say that I cannot, to-
     night, find a bottle large enough for the purpose intended;
     but to-morrow I faithfully engage to go into a pint bottle,
     in atonement of the present disappointment!" He then
     retired. The shock was electrical,&mdash;a dead silence prevailed
     for a moment;&mdash;the delusion vanished, and "confusion worse
     confounded" ensued; the interior of the house was nearly
     demolished. His It. H. the D. of C. was present, and lost a
     gold-hilted sword. During "the wreck of matter and the crush
     of worlds," the speculator made off with his booty.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[303]</span> Proceeding into Bishopsgate-street, the
      new City of London Tavern caught the attention of Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This," observed his friend, "is probably the first tavern in London, with
      reference to superior accommodation. Here congregate the most eminent
      corporate bodies, directors of public institutions and others, on
      occasions of business or enjoyment; here the admirable arrangement of
      every thing conducive to comfort is minutely attended to; here the
      plenitude of abundance, and the delicacies of luxury, distinguish the
      festive board, and the culinary art is shown forth to the very acme of
      perfection; which, together with the varied, unsophisticated excellence of
      the richest wines, secure to this celebrated tavern the continuance of a
      well-merited public approbation. But one of these days we shall avail
      ourselves of practical experience, by forming part of the company at
      dinner."
    </p>
    <p>
      Proposing in their way home to take the skirts of the metropolis, they
      directed their course through Moorfield, where Tallyho remarked on the
      unseemly desolate waste there presenting itself, and expressed surprise
      that it was not appropriated to some purposes of utility or ornament.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[304]</span> "It appears," answered Dashall, "as if
      some such improvement was in projection; probably a new square, if we may
      so opine from present indications; however, be the intention what it may,
      the execution is uncommonly tardy; with the exception of the central
      iron-railing, the handsome structure on the opposite side, the solitary
      building on the right, and range of new houses on the left, the tout
      ensemble was the same twenty years ago. It is a scene of dilapidation
      which might perhaps have been
    </p>
    <p>
      "More honoured in the breach than in th' observance."
    </p>
    <p>
      I recollect, that when a boy, I frequently extended my rambles into the
      quarters of Moorfields, for so was this place then named, from its
      compartments, exhibiting rural appearance even in the centre of London.
      Here were four enclosed fields, displaying in the season the beautiful
      verdure of nature; and numerous trees branching, in ample shade, over two
      great walks, that intersected each other at right angles, and formed the
      afternoon promenade of the citizens' wives and daughters. In former times,
      the quarters of Moorfields were resorted to by holiday visitants, as the
      favourite place of rendezvous, where predominated the recreation of manly
      exercises, and shows, gambols, and merriment were the orders of the day.
      The present is an age of improvement,&mdash;and yet I cannot think, in an
      already monstrously overgrown metropolis, the substitution of bricks and
      mortar an equivalent for green fields and rural simplicity."
    </p>
    <p>
      Leaving Moorfields, they passed, in a few minutes, into Finsbury-square.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho appeared surprised by its uniformly handsome edifices, its
      spacious extent, and beautiful circular area, in which the ground is laid
      out and the shrubberies disposed to the very best advantage. "Here, at
      least," he observed, "is a proof that Taste and Elegance are not
      altogether excluded a civic residence."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In this square, taking its name from the division of Finsbury," said
      Dashall, "reside many of the merchants and other eminent citizens of
      London; and here, in the decorations, internally, of their respective
      mansions, they vie with the more courtly residents westward, and exceed
      them generally in the quietude of domestic enjoyment."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[305]</span> Renewing their walk along the City
      Road, the gate of Bunhill Fields burying-ground standing conveniently
      open, "Let us step in," said Dashall,&mdash;"this is the most extensive
      depository of the dead in London, and as every grave almost is surmounted
      by a tombstone, we cannot fail in acquiring an impressive <i>memento mori</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      While examining a monumental record, of which there appeared a countless
      number, their attention was withdrawn from the dead, and attracted by the
      living. An elderly personage, arrayed in a rusty suit of sables, with an
      ink bottle dangling from one of the buttons of his coat, was intently
      employed in copying a long, yet well written inscription, to the memory of
      Patrick Colquhon, L.L.D., author of a Treatise on the Police of the
      Metropolis, and several other works of great public utility. Having
      accomplished his object, the stranger saluted Dashall and Tallyho in a
      manner so courteous as seemingly to invite conversation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You have chosen, Sir," observed Mr. Dashall, "rather a sombre cast of
      amusement."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Otherwise occupation," said the stranger, "from which I derive
      subsistence. Amidst the endless varieties of Real Life in London, I am an
      <i>Epitaph-Collector</i>, favoured by my friends with the appellation of
      <i>Old Mortality</i>, furnished them by the voluminous writer and meteor
      of the north, Sir Walter Scott."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Do you collect," asked Tallyho, "with the view of publishing on your own
      account?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No, Sir,&mdash;I really am not in possession of the means wherewith to
      embark on so hazardous a speculation. I am thus employed by an eccentric,
      yet very worthy gentleman, of large property, who ambitious of
      transmitting his name to posterity, means to favour the world with a more
      multitudinous collection of epitaphs than has hitherto appeared in any age
      or nation;&mdash;his prospectus states "Monumental Gleanings, in
      twenty-five quarto volumes!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Astonishing!" exclaimed Dashall,&mdash;"Can it be possible that he ever
      will be able to accomplish so vast an undertaking?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "And if he does," said Tallyho, "can it be possible that any person will
      be found to read a production of such magnitude, and on such a subject?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[306]</span> "That to him is a matter of
      indifference," said Old Mortality,&mdash;"he means to defray the entire
      charges, and the object of publication effected, will rest satisfied with
      the approbation of the discerning few, leaving encomium from the multitude
      to authors or compilers more susceptible of flattery,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Born with a stomach to digest a ton!"
</pre>
    <p>
      As to the quantum of materiel, he is indefatigable in personal research,
      employing besides numerous collectors even in the sister island, and in
      this, from the Land's-end to Johnny Grot's house."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And when," asked Dashall, "is it probable that this gigantic work may be
      completed?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Can't say," answered Old Mortality,&mdash;"I should think at no very
      remote period: the collection is in daily accumulation, and we are already
      in possession of above ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Prodigious!" exclaimed Dashall, "as Dominic Sampson says. And pray, Sir,
      what number may your assiduities have contributed towards the aggregate?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," answered Old Mortality, "I cannot exactly ascertain; to those,
      however, already supplied, this ground will yield a considerable
      increase."
    </p>
    <p>
      "May we solicit," said Tallyho, "without the imputation of intrusion, the
      favour of your reading to us from your table-book, a few of the most
      remarkable epitaphs?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Old Mortality readily promised gratification as far as possible, but he
      had not his table-book with him; "I have been employed to day," said he,
      "in making extracts from one of our manuscript folio volumes, for the
      purpose of insertion in the different metropolitan daily papers;&mdash;here
      they are"&mdash;taking a small bundle from his pocket, tied round with red
      tape,&mdash;"one for each paper: permit me, gentlemen, for a moment just
      to look over the endorsations."
    </p>
    <p>
      The triumvirate now seated themselves on a tombstone, and Old Mortality
      untying the bundle of extracts, laid them down in loose compact; then
      taking up the first, and reading the superscription, shewing for what
      newspaper it was intended, he reversed it on the tombstone.&mdash;"This,"
      said he, "is for "<i>The Times, British Press, Morning Post, Morning
      Chronicle, Morning Advertiser, Morning Herald, Public Ledger</i>,&mdash;all
      right,&mdash;and sorted, as the postman sorts his letters: I shall take,
      first of all, Printing-house Square, the others are in a direct line of
      delivery." This important arrangement made, he took up one paper from the
      bundle, and read the contents with an audible voice:&mdash;<span
      class="pagenum">[307]</span>
    </p>
    <p>
      SPECIMEN OF MONUMENTAL GLEANINGS,
    </p>
    <p>
      Extracted from the manuscript folio of a new compilation of Epitaphs,
      serious and eccentric, now in collection, from numerous Dormitories in
      Great Britain and Ireland; To be completed with all possible expedition,
      And will be ushered to the patronage of a discerning Public, in
      Twenty-five quarto volumes.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
           In the Church-yard of Winchester, Hants.

           Here lies interred a Hampshire Grenadier,
           Who got his death by drinking cold small beer.
           Soldiers, take heed from his untimely fall,
           And if you drink, drink strong, or none at all.

           In Stepney Church-yard.

           Here lies the body of Daniel Saut,
           Spitalfields weaver,&mdash;and that's all.

           In Chigwem Church-yard.

           This disease you ne'er heard tell on,
           I died of eating too much melon;
           Be careful then all you that feed&mdash;I
           Suffer'd, because I was too greedy.

           In St. John's, Leeds.

           <i>Hic jacet</i>, sure the fattest man
           That Yorkshire stingo made;
           He was a lover,&mdash;of his can,
           A clothier by his trade.
           His waist did measure three yards round,
           He weighed almost three hundred pound;
           His flesh did weigh full twenty stone,&mdash;
           His flesh, I say&mdash;he had no bone,&mdash;
           At least 'tis said that he had none.

           Eltham.

           My wife lies here beneath,
           Alas from me she's flown!
           She was so good, that Death
           Would have her for his own.

           At Maidstone.

           My life was short, as you may see,
           I died at only twenty-three.
           Now free from pain and grief I rest
           I had a cancer in my breast;
           The Doctors all their physic tried,
           And thus by slow degrees I died!

           Northampton.

           Here lies the corpse of Susan Lee,
           Who died of heartfelt pain,
           Because she lov'd a faithless he,
           Who lov'd not her again!
           Pray for me, old Thomas Dunn,&mdash;
           But if you don't,&mdash;'tis all one!

           In Aberdeen, Scotland.

           Here lies auld William Alderbroad.
           Have mercy on his soul, Lord God,
           As he would have were he Lord God,
           And thou auld William Alderbroad!

           Sir William Walworth, Lord Mayor of London
           St. Michael's, Crooked Lane.
           Hereunder lyth a man of fame,
           William Walworth callyd by name;
           Fishmonger he was in life time here,
           And twice Lord Maior as in bookes appere,
           Who with courage stout and manly might
           Slew Wat Tyler, in King Richard's sight.
           For which act done and trew intent,
           The King made him a Knight incontinent,
           And gave him armes, as heere you see,
           To declare his fait and chivalrie.
           He left this life the yere of our God,
           Thirteene hundryd fourscore and three, odd.

           William Wray.
           In the same Church-yard.

           Here lyeth, wrapt in clay,
           The body of William Wray;&mdash;
           I have no more to say.
</pre>
    <p>
      Interchanging civilities, the party now separated, the collector to resume
      his occupation, and the two friends their walk.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Twenty-five quarto volumes," exclaimed the Squire, "and exclusively
      filled with epitaphs; this fellow has set himself a task with a
      vengeance!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "And which," answered his friend, "he will never be able to accomplish;
      however, the ambition of renown as a voluminous collector is the less
      censurable, as being unattended by any of its too frequently pernicious
      concomitants, and giving to others an acceptable and not irrational
      employment; he is only blameable in the projected extent, not the nature
      of his pursuit; and happy would it be for mankind did the love of fame
      engender no greater evil than that, if any, which may accrue from the
      Herculean labours of this epitaph collector."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yet to us, the uninitiated of the country, it would never occur that
      there existed even in London a man who disseminated his fortune, and
      applied his mental and corporeal energies in gleaning epitaphs."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Neither perhaps would it occur that there existed even in London a
      virtuoso who discovered that fleas were a species of lobster, and who
      proceeded to proof by the ordeal of boiling water, on the supposition that
      the process would change their hue from black to red, and thus
      satisfactorily establish the correctness of his judgment; unfortunately,
      however, the boiled fleas still retained their original colour, and the
      ingenious hypothesis was reluctantly relinquished."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 It is told of another virtuoso, that he was waited upon
     one morning by a stranger, who announced that he had the
     opportunity of procuring an inestimable curiosity&mdash;a horned
     cock; but that its owner, an avaricious old woman, had her
     domicile in the highlands of Scotland, to which remote
     region it would be necessary to travel, amply provided with
     the pecuniary means of securing this wonderful bird; and
     that it would be expedient to set out immediately, lest the
     matchless phenomenon should become the prize of a more
     fortunate competitor.

     "A horned cock! the very acme of frolicsome nature,&mdash;a
     desideratum in the class of <i>lusus naturae</i>, which I would
     rather possess than the mines of Peru!&mdash;Away, my dear
     fellow; speed like lightning to the north,&mdash;purchase this
     precious bird at any price; and should the old woman
     hesitate at separation from her cornuted companion, why then
     purchase both, and bring them to town with all possible
     celerity!"

     In the interval between this important mission and the
     achievement of its object, the anxiety of the virtuoso was
     inexpressible;&mdash;a horned cock! it was the incessant subject
     of his cogitations by day, and of his dreams by night. At
     last the auspicious moment arrived; in the still noontide of
     night the preconcerted rap at the street door announced the
     happy result of the momentous expedition. The virtuoso
     sprang from his couch with extasy to admit the illustrious
     prodigy of nature. His astonishment, delight, and triumph
     were unspeakable:&mdash;two horns of the most beautiful curva-
     ture adorned the crested head of this noble northern.
     Anticipation thus blessed by the fulness of fruition, the
     bringer was super-abundantly rewarded. Next morning the
     virtuoso sent a message to each of his most highly favoured
     friends, desiring attendance at his house instantaneously,
     on an occasion of vast importance. "Gentlemen," said he to
     his assembled visitants, "I may now boast possession of that
     whicli will astonish the universe&mdash;a horned cock! behold the
     rara avis, and envy my felicity!" So saying, he uncovered a
     wicker basket, when lo! the bird, shorn of its honours!
     indignant at confinement, and struggling for freedom, had
     dropped its waxen antlers! The unfortunate virtuoso stood
     aghast and speechless, and only at last found utterance to
     curse his own credulity!
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[310]</span> Pursuing their course along the City
      Road, the two friends were attracted by the appearance of a caravan,
      stationary on the road side, whereon was inscribed, in large characters,
      The Female Salamander.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here is another instance," observed Dashall, "of the varieties of Real
      Life in London."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Walk in, gentlemen," exclaimed the proprietor, "and see the surprising
      young woman over whom the element of fire has no control!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom and Bob accepted the invitation. Entering the caravan, they were
      received by an interesting young female, apparently not more than eighteen
      years of age, with a courteousness of manner far beyond what could have
      been expected from an itinerant exhibitor.
    </p>
    <p>
      So soon as a sufficient number of spectators had congregated within the
      vehicle, the female Salamander commenced her exhibition.
    </p>
    <p>
      Taking a red-hot poker from the fire, she grasped it firmly, and drew it
      from head to point through her hand, without sustaining the smallest
      injury!
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[311]</span> "Will you permit me to look at your
      hand?" asked Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      The girl extended her hand,&mdash;the palm was moist, and seemed to have
      been previously fortified against danger by some secret liquid or other
      application, now reeking from its recent contact with the flaming weapon.
    </p>
    <p>
      An uncivilized bumpkin accused her of deception, asserting that the poker
      was not heated to the extent represented.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Touch and try," answered the girl. He did so, and the cauterizing
      instrument gave a feeling (although not very satisfactory) negative to his
      assertion.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The mystery," continued Dashall, "of resisting the impression of tire,
      certainly originates in the liquid by which your hand has been protected."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I shall answer your observation," said the Salamander, "by another
      performance."
    </p>
    <p>
      She then dipped her fingers into a pot of molten lead, and let fall upon
      her tongue several drops of the metallic fluid, to the no small amazement
      and terror of the company; and as if to remove the idea of precautionary
      application, she after a lapse of five minutes, repeated the same
      extraordinary exhibition, and finally immerged her naked feet in the
      boiling material.
    </p>
    <p>
      The inscrutable means by which the Salamander executed these feats with
      the most complete success and safety, were not to be divulged; and as
      neither of our respectable friends felt desirous of emulating the fair
      exhibitant, they declined the importunity of further inquiry.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This is, indeed," said Dashall, as they resumed their walk, "the age of
      wonders:&mdash;here is a girl who can bear to gargle her mouth with melted
      lead, put her delicate feet into the same scalding material, and pass
      through her hands a flaming red-hot poker! I am inclined to believe, that
      were the present an age of superstition, she might be burnt for a witch,
      were she not happily incombustible. For my own part, I sincerely hope that
      this pyrophorous prodigy will never think of quitting her own country; and
      as I am a bachelor, I verily believe I should be tempted to make her an
      offer of my hand, could I flatter myself with any chance of raising
      aflame, or making a match with such uninflammable commodity. Only conceive
      the luxury, when a man comes home fatigued, and in a hurry for his tea, of
      having a wife who can instantly take out the heater for <span
      class="pagenum">[312]</span> the urn with her fingers,&mdash;stir the fire
      with ditto&mdash;snuff candles with ditto&mdash;make a spit of her arm, or
      a toasting fork of her thumb! What a saving, too, at the washing season,
      since she need only hold her hand between the bars till it is red-hot,
      thrust it into a box iron, and iron you off a dozen children's frocks,
      while an ordinary laundress would be coddling the irons over the fire,
      spitting upon them, and holding them to her cheek to ascertain the heat
      before she began to work."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And," observed the Squire, taking up his friend's vein of humour, "if the
      young lady be as insensible to the flames of Cupid as she is to those of
      Vulcan, she might still be highly useful in a national point of view, and
      well worthy the attention of the various fire-offices."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Exactly so," replied his Cousin,&mdash;"how desirable for instance would
      it have been at the late alarming fire in Gracechurch-street, to have had
      a trustworthy person like her, who could very coolly perambulate the
      blazing warehouses, to rescue from the flames the most valuable
      commodities, or lolling astraddle upon a burning beam, hold the red-hot
      engine pipe in her hand, and calmly direct the hissing water to those
      points where it may be most effectually applied. In our various
      manufactories, what essential services she might perform. In glass-houses,
      for instance, it is notorious that great mischief sometimes arises from
      inability to ascertain when the sand and flint have arrived at the proper
      degree of fusion. How completely might this be remedied, by merely
      shutting up the female Salamander in the furnace; and I can really imagine
      nothing more interesting, than to contemplate her in that situation,
      dressed in an asbestos pelisse, watching the reproduction of a phoenix
      hung up in an iron cage by her side, fondling a spritely little
      Salamander, and bathing her naked feet in the vitreous lava, to report
      upon the intensity of heat. Much more might be urged to draw the attention
      of government to the propriety of retaining this anti-ignitible young
      lady, not only for the benefits she may confer upon the public, but for
      the example she may afford to others of her own sex; that by a proper
      exertion of courage, the most ardent sparks may be sometimes encountered
      without the smallest inconvenience or injury."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[313]</span> Indulging in this playful vein of
      raillery, they now reached that part of the City Road intersected by the
      Regent's Canal, where its spacious basin, circumjacent wharfs and
      warehouses, and winding line of water, with barges gliding majestically on
      its placid wave, where lately appeared open fields arrayed in the verdure
      of nature, afforded full scope for remark by Mr. Dashall, on the gigantic
      design and rapid accomplishment, by commercial enterprize, of the most
      stupendous undertakings.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This work of incalculable public utility," said Mr. Dashall, "sprang into
      being with the alacrity of enchantment;&mdash;the same remark may apply to
      every other improvement of this vast metropolis, so rapid in execution,
      that one thinks of the wonderful lamp, and the magnificent palace of
      Aladdin, erected in one night by the attendant genii."
    </p>
    <p>
      Onwards towards "merry Islington;"{1}&mdash;"here," said Dashall, "is the
      New River: this fine artificial stream is brought from two springs at Chad
      well and Am well, in Hertfordshire, for the supply of London with water.
      It was finished in 1613, by Sir Hugh Middleton, a citizen of London, who
      expended his whole fortune in this public undertaking. The river, with all
      its windings, is nearly 39 miles in length; it has 43 sluices, and 215
      bridges; over and under it a great number of brooks and water-courses have
      their passage. In some places this canal is carried through vales, and in
      others through subterraneous passages. It terminates in a basin called the
      New River Head, close by. From the reservoir at Islington the water is
      conveyed by 58 main pipes under ground along the middle of the principal
      streets; and thence by leaden pipes to the different houses. Thus, by
      means of the New River, and of the London Bridge water-works, every house
      in the metropolis is abundantly supplied with water, at the expense each
      of a few shillings only per annum.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Thus all through merry Islington
       These gambols he did play.

     John Gilpin.
</pre>
    <p>
      This village of Islington is a large and populous place, superior both in
      size and appearance to many considerable towns in the country. Observe the
      Angel Inn, celebrated for its ordinary, where you may enjoy, after a
      country ramble, an excellent dinner on very moderate terms.&mdash;Apropos,
      of the Angel Inn ordinary: some years ago it was regularly every Sunday
      attended by a thin meagre <span class="pagenum">[314]</span> gaunt and
      bony figure, of cadaverous aspect, who excited amongst the other guests no
      small degree of dismay, and not without cause. Cognominated the Wolf, he
      justified his pretensions to the appellation, by his almost incredible
      powers of gormandizing; for a quantum of viands sufficient for six men of
      moderate appetite, would vanish on the magic contact of his knife and
      fork, in the twinkling of an eye; in fact, his voracity was considered of
      boundless extent, for he invariably and without cessation consumed by
      wholesale, so long as eatables remained on the table. One day, after
      having essentially contributed to the demolition of a baron of beef, and
      devoured an entire shoulder of lamb, with a commensurate proportion of
      bread, roots, vegetables, &amp;c, he pounced, with the celerity of a hawk,
      on a fine roast goose, which unfortunately happened to have been just then
      placed within the reach of his annihilating fangs, and in a very short
      space of time it was reduced to a skeleton; having occasion for a few
      minutes to leave the room, the company in the meanwhile secreted the bones
      of the goose. The waiter now entered for the purpose of removing the
      cloth: casting his eyes round the room, he seemed absorbed in perplexity&mdash;"What
      is the matter?" asked one of the company; "do you miss arty thing?"&mdash;"Yes,
      Sir, the bones of a goose!"&mdash;"Why then you may save yourself the
      trouble of further search; the gentleman just gone out, of modest manners
      and puny appetite, has devoured the goose, bones and all!"&mdash;The
      waiter lost no time in reporting the appalling fact to his master, who now
      more than ever was desirous of getting rid of the glutton&mdash;but how?
      it was impossible to exclude him the ordinary, or set bounds to his
      appetite; the only resource left was that of buying him off, which was
      done at the rate of one shilling per diem, and the wolf took his
      hebdomadary repast at a different ordinary: from this also his absence was
      purchased at the same rate as by the first. Speculating on his gluttony,
      he levied similar contributions on the proprietors of the principal
      ordinaries in the metropolis and environs; and if the fellow is still
      living, I have no doubt of his continuing to derive his subsistence from
      the sources already described!&mdash;Now what think you of Real Life in
      London?"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The wolf, so cognominated, was less censurable for his
     gluttony than the infamous purpose to which he applied it&mdash;
     otherwise he had a parallel in a man of sublime genius.
     Handel one day entered a tavern in the city and ordered six
     mackarel, a fowl, and a veal cutlet, to be ready at a
     certain hour. True to his appointment, he re-appeared at the
     time stipulated, and was shown into an apartment where
     covers were laid for four. Handel desired to have another
     room, and ordered his repast to be served up immediately.&mdash;
     "Then you don't wait for the rest of the company, sir?"
     said the waiter.&mdash;"Companee! vat you tell me of companee?"
     exclaimed Handel. "I vant no companee. I order dem two tree
     ting for my lonch!" The repast was served up, and honoured
     by Handel to the bones. He then drank a bottle of wine, and
     afterwards went home to dinner!

     During one of the campaigns of Frederick of Prussia, a boor
     was brought before him of an appetite so incredibly
     ravenous, that he offered to devour a hog barbacued. A
     general officer present ob-served, that the fellow ought to
     be burnt as a wizard.&mdash;"May it please your Majesty," said
     the gormand, "to order that old gentleman to take off his
     spurs, and I will eat him before I begin the hog!" Panic
     struck, although a brave soldier, at the idea of being
     devoured alive, the general shut himself up in his tent
     until the man-eater departed the encampment.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[315]</span> The Squire knew not what to think&mdash;the
      circumstance was so extraordinary, that the story would have been rejected
      by him as unworthy of notice, had it been told by any other person; and
      coming even from his respectable friend, he remained, until reassured of
      the fact, rather incredulous of belief.
    </p>
    <p>
      Descending the declivity leading from Pentonville to Battle Bridge,
      Dashall, pointing to an extensive pile of buildings at some little
      distance on the left,&mdash;"That," said he, "is Cold Bath Fields
      Penitentiary House, constructed on the plan of the late Mr. Howard, and
      may be considered in all respects as an experiment of his principles. It
      cost the county of Middlesex between £70 and £80,000, and its yearly
      expenditure is about £7,000. It was opened in 1794, and was originally
      designed only as a kind of Bridewell; but having suitable accommodations
      for several descriptions of prisoners, it was applied to their different
      circumstances. The prison you may observe is surrounded by a wall of
      moderate height. Here are workshops for the prisoners; an office in which
      the business of the prison is transacted; a committee-room, and the best
      chapel of any prison in London. The cells are 218 in number, about eight
      feet long each. In these, penitentiary prisoners are confined till they
      have completed their tasks, when they are let into the courts at the back.
      Owing to the exertions of Sir Francis <span class="pagenum">[316]</span>
      Burdett, and his partizans, this house, about the year 1799 and 1800,
      attracted much popular odium. Many abuses, now rectified, were then found
      to exist in the management, though not to the full extent described."
    </p>
    <p>
      A new scene now rose on the view of our two pedestrians. A little further
      on, in a field by the roadside, a motley assemblage of auditors environed
      an orator mounted on a chair, who with frequent contortion of feature, and
      appropriate accompaniment of gesticulation, was holding forth in the
      spirit, as Pashalt, surmised, either of radicalism or fanaticism. This
      elevated personage, on closer approximation, proved to be a
      field-preacher, and judging from exterior appearance, no stranger to the
      good things of this life, although his present admonitory harangue
      strongly reprobated indulgence in the vanities of this wicked world;&mdash;he
      was well clad, and in portly condition, and certainly his rubicundity of
      visage by no means indicated on his part the union of practice with
      precept.
    </p>
    <p>
      Nothing of further interest occurred, and they reached home, pleased with
      their day's ramble, that had been productive of so much amusement;&mdash;"thus
      verifying," said Dashall to the Squire, "the observation which you lately
      made&mdash;that every hour brings to a metropolitan perambulator a fresh
      accession of incident."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0009" id="link42HCH0009">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXIII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Observe that lean wretch, how dejected he looks,
          The while these fat Justices pore o'er their books.&mdash;
          "Hem, hem,&mdash;this here fellow our fortunes would tell,&mdash;
          He thence at the treading-mill must have a spell:
          He lives by credulity!"&mdash;Most people do,&mdash;
          Even you on the bench there,&mdash;ay, you Sir, and you!
          Release then the Confrer at Equity's call,
          Or otherwise build treading-mills for us all!
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[317]</span> Adverting to the trick recently and
      successfully practised on Sir Felix O'Grady, by a juvenile adept in fraud,
      obtaining from the Baronet a new suit of clothes; his servant, indignant
      at his master having been thus plundered with impunity, had, for several
      days, been meditating in what manner most effectually to manouvre, so as
      to recover the lost property, and retrieve the honor of Munster, which he
      considered tarnished by his master having been duped by a stripling; when
      one morning a hand-bill was found in the area, intimating the residence in
      Town, pro bono publico, of a celebrated professor of the Occult Sciences;
      to whom was given the sublime art of divination, and who, by astrological
      and intuitive knowledge, would discover lost or stolen property, with
      infallible precision. Thady, whose credulity was of no inferior order,
      elate with the idea of consummating his wishes, communicated to his master
      the happy opportunity, and was permitted to seek the counsel of the
      celestial augurer. Not that the Baronet entertained any belief of its
      proving available of discovery, but rather with the view of introducing to
      his friends, Dashall and Tallyho, a fresh source of amusement, as
      connected with their diurnal investigation of Real Life in London.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thither then, Thady repaired, and consulting the Seer, was astonished by
      responses which implied the most profound knowledge of times past,
      present, and to come! The simplicity of Thady had not escaped the
      Astrologer's <span class="pagenum">[318]</span> notice, who, by dint of
      manouvre having contrived to draw from the Munster man, unwittingly, the
      requisite intelligence, merely echoed back the information thus received,
      to the utter amazement of Thady, who concluded that the Doctor must have
      intercourse with the Devil, and thence that he merited implicit veneration
      and belief. The sage predictor having received the customary douceur, now
      dismissed his credulous visitant, saying that the planets must be
      propitiated, and desiring him to come again at the expiration of
      twenty-four hours, when he would receive further intelligence.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom and his Cousin having called at the lodging of Sir Felix during the
      time that Thady was out on his expedition of discovery, the Baronet
      apprized his friends of the amusement in reserve; and they agreed to visit
      this expounder of destinies on the servant's return.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thady at last arrived, and having reiterated his belief that this
      marvellous conjurer was the devil's own relative, the party set out to
      ascertain by what means they could prove the truth of the affinity between
      his infernal majesty and the sage descendant of the Magi.
    </p>
    <p>
      Gaining the sublunary domicile of this mystical unraveller, which for the
      greater facility of communication with the stars he had fixed in the
      loftiest apartment of the house, our trio knocked at the door, which,
      after some hesitation, was opened by an ancient Sybil, who was presently
      joined by her counterpart, both "so withered and so wild in their attire,"
      that "they looked not like inhabitants o' th' earth, and yet were on it."
      On the party requiring to see the Doctor, the two hags explained in a
      breath that the Doctor received only one visitor at a time; and while one
      gentleman went up stairs, the other two must remain below; and this
      arrangement being acquiesced in, Tom and Bob were shewn into a mean
      looking room on the ground floor, and Sir Felix followed the ascent of his
      conductor to the attic.
    </p>
    <p>
      Entering the presence chamber,&mdash;"Welcome, sphinx," exclaimed the
      Doctor.
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the powers," said the Baronet, "but you are right to a letter; the
      Sphinx is a monster-man, and I, sure enough, am a Munster-man."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I know it.&mdash;What would'st thou, Sir Felix O'Grady?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[319]</span> The Baronet felt surprised by this
      familiar recognition of his person, and replied by observing, that as the
      inquirer so well knew his name, he might also be acquainted with the
      nature of his business.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I partly guess it," rejoined the Seer, "and although I cannot absolutely
      predict restitution of thy lost property, yet I foresee that accident will
      throw the depredator in thy way, when the suit may perhaps find its way
      back to thy wardrobe. Now, hence to thy business, and I to mine."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Baronet having nothing further to ask, withdrew accordingly; and our
      Squire of Belville-hall was next ushered into the <i>sanctum sanctorum</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob was at a loss what to say, not having prepared himself with any
      reasonable pretext of inquiry. A silence of a few moments was the
      consequence, and the Squire having first reconnoitred the person of the
      conjurer, who was arrayed in the appropriate costume of his profession,
      scrutinized the apartment, when the attention of the visitor and visited
      being again drawn to each other, the Soothsayer addressed himself to
      Tallyho in the following words:
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          The shadows of joy shall the mind appal,
          And the death-light dimly flit round the hall
          Of him, by base lucre who led astray,
          Shall age into fruitless minion betray!

          The death-light shall glimmer in Belville-hall,
          And childless the lord of the mansion fall;
          A wife when he weds, vain, ugly, and old,
          Though charms she brings forty thousand in gold!
</pre>
    <p>
      The Squire was not prone to anger; but that this fellow should interfere
      with his private concerns, and impute to him the intention of forming a
      most preposterous connexion, under the influence of avarice, roused him
      into a whirlwind of passion.&mdash;"Rascal!" he exclaimed, "who take upon
      you to predict the fate of others, are you aware of your own! Vagabond!
      imposter! here I grasp you, nor will I quit my hold until I surrender you
      into the hands of justice!" And "suiting the action to the word," he
      seized and shook the unfortunate Seer, to the manifest discomposure of his
      bones, who loudly and lamentably cried out for assistance. Alarmed by the
      clamour, Dashall and the Baronet rushed up stairs, to whom the Squire
      stated the aggravation <span class="pagenum">[320]</span> received, and at
      the same time his determination to bring the cheat to punishment. The
      trembling culprit sued for mercy, conscious that he was amenable to
      correction as a rogue and vagabond, and if convicted as such, would
      probably be sent to expiate his offence in the Treading-Mill at Brixton, a
      place of atonement for transgression, which of all others he dreaded the
      most.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Union-Hall.&mdash;Hannah Totnkins, a miserable woman of the
     town, was brought before R. G. Chambers, Esq. charged with
     having robbed another of the unfortunate class of her
     clothes. It appeared, that the prisoner had been liberated
     from Brixton prison on Friday-last, after a confinement of
     three weeks; and that on coming out she was met by the
     complainant, Catherine Flynn, by whom she was taken to a
     comfortable lodging, supplied with necessaries, and treated
     with great kindness. The prisoner acted with propriety until
     Monday night, during which she remained out in the streets.
     On Tuesday morning, at four o'clock, she came home drenched
     with rain. The complainant desired her either to go to bed,
     or to light a fire and dry her clothes. The prisoner did
     neither, and the complainant went to sleep. At about seven
     the latter awoke, and missed her gown, petticoat, and
     bonnet. The prisoner was also missing. The complainant
     learned that her clothes were at a pawnbroker's shop, where
     they had been left a short time before by the prisoner.
     Hall, the officer, having heard of the robbery, went in
     quest of the prisoner, and found her in a gin-shop in
     Blackman-street, in a state of intoxication. He brought her
     before the magistrates in this condition. Her hair was
     hanging about her face, which was swelled and discoloured by
     the hardship of the preceding night. She did not deny that
     she had stolen the clothes of her poor benefactress, but she
     pleaded in her excuse, that the condition of her body, from
     the rain of Monday night, was such, that nothing but gin
     could have saved her life, and the only way she had of
     getting that medicine, was by pledging Katty Flynn's
     clothes. The magistrates asked the prisoner whether she had
     not got enough of the treading-mill at Brixton. The prisoner
     begged for mercy's sake not to be sent to the treading-mill.
     She would prefer transportation; for it was much more
     honourable to go over the water, than to be sent as a rogue
     and vagabond to Brixton. She was sent back to prison. It is
     a remarkable fact, that since the famous Treading-Mill has
     been erected at Brixton, the business of this office has
     greatly declined. The mill is so constructed, that when a
     man ventures to be idle in it, he receives a knock on the
     head from a piece OF WOOD, which is put there to give them
     notice of what they ere to do!!!
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[321]</span> The two ancient Sybils from the lower
      regions having now ascended the scene of confusion, united their voices
      with that of the astrologer, and Dashall and Sir Felix also interceding in
      his behalf, the Squire yielded to the general entreaty, and promised the
      soothsayer forgiveness, on condition that he disclosed the source whence
      he derived information as to the Baronet's family concerns. The soothsayer
      confessed, that he had elicited intelligence from the servant, who in his
      simplicity had revealed so much of his master's affairs, as to enable him
      (the conjurer) to sustain his reputation even with Sir Felix himself, whom
      from description he recognized on his first entrance, and by the same
      means, and with equal ease, identified the person of the Squire of
      Belville-hall. He added besides, that he had frequently, by similar
      stratagem, acquired intelligence; that chance had more than once favoured
      him, by verifying his predictions, and thus both his fame and finances had
      obtained aggrandisement. He now promised to relinquish celestial for
      sublunary pursuits, and depend for subsistence rather on the exercise of
      honest industry than on public credulity.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus far had matters proceeded, when the Baronet's servant Thady was
      announced. The triumvirate anticipating some extraordinary occurrence,
      desired the soothsayer to resume his functions, and give the valet
      immediate audience, while they retired into another apartment to wait the
      result. In a few minutes the servant was dismissed, and the party
      readmitted.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Chance," said the augurer, "has again befriended me. I told you, Sir
      Felix, that the depredator would be thrown in your way: my prediction is
      realized; he has been accidentally encountered by your servant, and is now
      in safe custody."
    </p>
    <p>
      On this information our party turned homewards, first leaving the
      astrologer a pecuniary stimulation to projected amendment of life.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There seems nothing of inherent vileness," said the Squire, as they
      walked onwards, "in this man's principles; he may have been driven by
      distress to his present pursuits; and I feel happy that I did not consign
      the poor devil to the merciless fangs of the law, as, in the moment of
      irritation, I had intended."
    </p>
    <p>
      "By my conscience," exclaimed Sir Felix, "I cannot discover that he ought
      to be punished at all. He has been picking up a scanty living by preying
      on public credulity; and from the same source thousands in this metropolis
      derive affluent incomes, and with patronage and impunity."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[322]</span> "And," added Dashall, "in cases of
      minor offence a well-timed clemency is frequently, both in policy and
      humanity, preferable to relentless severity."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 As a contrast to these exemplary feelings, and in
     illustration of Real Life in London, as it regards a total
     absence of sympathy and gentlemanly conduct, in one of a
     respectable class in society, we present our readers with
     the following detail:&mdash;

     Hatton Garden. On Saturday sennight, Robert Powell was
     brought before the magistrates, charged with being a rogue,
     vagabond, and imposter, and obtaining money under
     fraudulent pretences, from one Thomas Barnes, a footman in
     the service of Surgeon Blair, of Great Russell-street,
     Bloomsbury, and taking from him 2s. 6d. under pretence of
     telling him the destinies of a female fellow-servant, by
     means of his skill in astrological divina-tion. The nature
     of the offence, and the pious frond by which the disciple of
     Zoroaster was caught in the midst of his sorceries, were
     briefly as follow:&mdash;This descendant of the Magi, born to
     illumine the world by promulgating the will of the stars,
     had of course no wish to conceal his residence; on the
     contrary, he resolved to announce his qualification in the
     form of a printed handbill, and to distribute the manifesto
     for the information of the world. One of these bills was
     dropped down the area of Mr. Blair's house; it was found by
     his footman, and laid on the breakfast-table, with the
     newspaper of the morning, as a morceau of novelty, for his
     amusement. Mr. Blair concerted with some of the agents of
     the Society for the Suppression of Vice, a stratagem to
     entrap the Sidéral Professor; in the furtherance of which he
     dictated to his footman a letter to the Seer, expressive of
     a wish to know the future destinies of his fellow-servant,
     the cook-maid, and what sort of a husband the constellations
     had, in their benign influence, assigned her. With this
     letter the footman set out for No. 5, Sutton-street, Soho,
     where he found the Seer had, for the convenience of prompt
     intercourse, chosen his habitation as near the stars as the
     roof of the mansion would admit. Here the footman announced
     the object of his embassy, delivered his credentials, and
     was told by the Seer, that "lie could certainly give him an
     answer now, 'by word of mouth,' but if he would call next
     day, he should be better prepared, as, in the meantime, he
     could consult the stars, and have for him a written answer."
     The footman retired, and returned next morning, received the
     written response, gave to the Seer the usual donation of 2s.
     6d. previously marked, which sum he figured upon the answer,
     and the receipt of which the unsuspecting Sage acknowledged
     by his signature. With this proof of his diligence, he
     returned to his master, and was further to state the matter
     to the magistrates. A vigilant officer was therefore sent
     after the prophet, whom he found absorbed in profound
     cogitation, casting the nativities of two plump damsels,
     and consulting the dispositions of the stars as to the
     disposition of the lasses; but the unrelenting officer
     entered, and proceeded to fulfil his mission. On searching
     the unfortunate Sage, the identical half-crown paid him by
     Barnes was found, with two others in his pocket, where such
     coins had long been strangers; and the cabalistical chattels
     of his profession accompanied him as the lawful spoil of the
     captor. The magistrate, before whom he had been convicted on
     a former occasion of a similar offence, observed that it was
     highly reprehensible for a man who possessed abilities,
     which by honest exertion might procure him a creditable
     livelihood, thus to degrade himself by a life of imposture
     and fraud upon the ignorant and unwary. The wretched
     prisoner, who stood motionless and self-convicted, exhibited
     a picture of wretchedness from whicli the genius of
     Praxiteles would not have disdained to sketch the statue of
     Ill Luck. Never did soothsayer seem less a favourite of the
     Fates! Aged, tall, meagre, ragged, filthy and care-worn, his
     squalid looks depicted want and sorrow. Every line of his
     countenance seemed a furrow of grief; and his eyes gushing
     with tears, in faint and trembling accents he addressed the
     Court. He acknowledged the truth of the charge, but said,
     that nothing but the miseries of a wretched family could
     have driven him to such a line of life. If he had been able,
     he would gladly have swept the streets; but he was too
     feeble so to do; he had tried every thing in his power, but
     in vain,&mdash;

     "He could not dig, to beg he was ashamed;"

     and even if begging, either by private solicitation or
     openly in the streets, could promise him a casual resource
     in the charity of the passing crowd, he was afraid he should
     thereby incur prosecution as a rogue and vagabond, and be
     imprisoned in Bridewell. Parish settlement he has none; and
     what was to be done for a wretched wife and three famishing
     children? He had no choice between famine, theft, or
     imposture. His miserable wife, he feared, was even now
     roaming and raving through the streets, her disorder
     aggravated by his misfortunes; and his wretched children
     without raiment or food. To him death would be a welcome
     relief from a life of misery, tolerable only in the hope of
     being able to afford, by some means, a wretched subsistence
     to his family.

     The magistrates, obviously affected by this scene, said that
     they felt themselves obliged to commit the prisoner, as he
     had not only been repeatedly warned of the consequences of
     his way of life, but was once before convicted of a similar
     offence. He was therefore committed for trial.

     Does Surgeon Blair, who obtains his twenty guineas a day,
     and lives in affluence, think by such conduct as the present
     to merit the esteem of the world, by thus hunting into the
     toils of justice such miserable objects? If he does, though
     we cannot respect him or his associates for their humanity,
     we may undoubtedly pity them for their ignorance and
     superstition.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[324]</span> On the arrival of the party at the
      lodgings of Sir Felix, they learned from the servant, that the latter
      having met the young swindler in the streets, Thady recognized and secured
      him; and he was now at the disposal of the Baronet, if he chose to proceed
      against him.
    </p>
    <p>
      The sprig of iniquity, when made forthcoming, did not deny the accuracy of
      the charge, neither did he offer any thing in exculpation. It was with
      much difficulty, however, and under the threat of his being immediately
      surrendered to justice, that he would disclose the name of his father, who
      proved to be a respectable tradesman residing in the neighbourhood. The
      unfortunate parent was sent for, and his son's situation made known to
      him. The afflicted man earnestly beseeched, that his son might not be
      prosecuted; he was not aware, he said, that the lad was habitually
      vicious; this probably was his only deviation from honesty; he, the
      father, would make every reparation required; but exposure would entail
      upon his family irretrievable ruin. It was elicited from the boy, amid
      tears and sobs of apparent contrition, that the articles of apparel were
      in pledge for a small sum; redemption, and every other possible atonement,
      was instantly proposed by the father: Sir Felix hesitated, was he
      justifiable, he asked, in yielding to his own wishes, by foregoing
      prosecution?&mdash;"The attribute of mercy," said Dashall, "is still in
      your power."&mdash;"Then," responded the Baronet, "I shall avail myself of
      the privilege. Sir, (to the father), your boy is at liberty!" The now
      relieved parent expressed, in the most energetic manner, his gratitude,
      and retired. The prediction of the Seer was fully verified, for in the
      course of the evening the stray suit found its way back to the wardrobe of
      its rightful owner.
    </p>
    <p>
      This business happily concluded, and the day not much beyond its meridian,
      the three friends again sallied forth in the direction of Bond-street,
      towards Piccadilly. As usual, the loungers were superabundant, and
      ridiculous. Paired together, and swerving continually from the direct
      line, it required some skilful manouvring to pass them. Our friends had
      surmounted several such impediments, when a new obstruction to their
      progress presented itself. A party of Exquisites had linked themselves
      together, and occupied the entire pavement, so that it was impossible to
      precede them without getting into the carriage-way, thus greatly
      obstructing and inconveniencing all other passengers. Lounging at a
      funeral pace, and leaving not the smallest opening, it was evident that
      <span class="pagenum">[325]</span> these effeminate animals had purposely
      united themselves for public annoyance. Sir Felix, irritated by this
      palpable outrage on decorum, stepped forward, with hasty determined
      stride, and coming unexpectedly and irresistibly in contact, broke at once
      the concatenated barrier, to the great amusement as well as accommodation
      of the lookers-on, and total discomfiture of the Exquisites, who observing
      the resolute mien and robust form of their assailant, not forgetting a
      formidable piece of timber, alias "sprig of shillaleagh," which he bore in
      his hand, prudently consulted their safety, and forebore resentment of the
      interruption.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 If in walking the streets of London, the passenger kept
     the right hand side, it would prevent the frequent
     recurrence of much jostling and confusion. The laws of the
     road are observed on the carriage-way in the metropolis most
     minutely, else the street would be in a continual blockade.
     But

          The laws of the road are a paradox quite,
          That puzzles the marvelling throng;
          For if on the left, you are yet on the right,
          And if you are right, you are wrong!
</pre>
    <p>
      The Baronet's two associates very much approved of his spirited
      interference, and Dashall observed, that these insignificant beings, whom
      Sir Felix had so properly reproved, were to be seen, thus incommoding the
      public, in all parts of the metropolis; but more particularly westward;
      that in crowded streets, however, for instance, in the direct line from
      Charing Cross to the Royal Exchange, the apparent Exquisites are generally
      thieves and pickpockets, who find a harvest in this extensive scene of
      business, by artful depredation, either upon the unwary tradesman, or
      equally unsuspecting passenger, whose wiper or tattler, and sometimes
      both, becomes the frequent produce of their active ingenuity.
    </p>
    <p>
      The morning had been wet, and although the flag-way was dry, yet the
      carriage-road was dirty. There are, in all parts of the metropolis,
      indigent objects of both sexes, who by sweeping the cross-way, pick up an
      eleemosynary livelihood. It not unfrequently happens, however, that a
      chariot, or other vehicle, is drawn up at one end of the cross-way
      directly athwart it, so as completely to intercept your way to the
      pavement. Exactly so situated were our pedestrians. They had availed
      themselves of a newly swept path, and were advancing towards the opposite
      side, <span class="pagenum">[326]</span>in Piccadilly, when, before they
      could effect their purpose, a carriage drew up, and effectually impeded
      further progress by the cross-way, so that there seemed no alternative
      between standing fast and gaining the pavement by walking through the mud.
      The coachman retained his position despite of remonstrance, and in this
      laudable stubbornness he was encouraged by a well-attired female inside
      the vehicle, for the carriage was a private one, and its ill-mannered
      inmate probably a lady of rank and fashion. Sir Felix, justly indignant at
      this treatment, set danger and inconvenience at defiance, and deliberately
      walking to the horses' heads, led the animals forward until the carriage
      had cleared the cross-way, maugre the threats of the lady, and the whip of
      the coachman, who had the audacity to attempt exercising it on the person
      of the Baronet, when Tallyho, dreading the consequences to the rash
      assailant, sprang upon the box, and arresting his hand, saved the honour
      of Munster! The transaction did not occupy above two minutes, yet a number
      of people had collected, and vehemently applauded Sir Felix; and the
      lady's companion now hastily re-entering the chariot from an adjacent
      shop, Mr. Jehu drove off rapidly, amidst the hoots and hisses of the
      multitude.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Sir Felix had not heard of the following incident, else he
     certainly would have followed its example:&mdash;

     Two ladies of distinction stopped in a carriage at a
     jeweller's near Charing-cross; one of them only got out, and
     the coach stood across the path-way which some gentlemen
     wanted to cross to the other side, and desired the coachman
     to move on a little; the fellow was surly, and refused; the
     gentlemen remonstrated, but in vain. During the altercation,
     the lady came to the shop door, and foolishly ordered the
     coachman not to stir from his place. On this, one of the
     gentlemen opened the coach-door, and with boots and spurs
     stepped through the carriage. He was followed by his
     companions, to the extreme discomposure of the lady within,
     as well as the lady without. To complete the jest, a party
     of sailors coming up, observed, that, "If this was a
     thoroughfare, they had as much right to it as the gemmen;"
     and accordingly scrambled through the carriage.
</pre>
    <p>
      The poor street-sweeper having applied to Sir Felix for a mite of
      benevolence,&mdash;"And is it for letting the carriage block up the
      cross-way, and forcing me through the mud," asked the Baronet;&mdash;" but
      whether or not, I have not got any halfpence about me, so that I must pay
      you when I come again."&mdash;"Ah! your honour," exclaimed the man, "it is
      unknown the credit I give in this way." Sir Felix thrust his hand into his
      pocket, and rewarded the applicant with a tester.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[327]</span> Proceeding along Piccadilly, our party
      were followed by a Newfoundland dog, which circumstance attracted the
      notice of the Baronet, to whom more than to either of his associates the
      animal seemed to attach itself. Pleased with its attention, Sir Felix
      caressed it, and when the triumvirate entered a neighbouring coffee-house,
      the dog was permitted to accompany them. Scarcely had the three friends
      seated themselves, when a man of decent appearance came into the room,
      and, without ceremony, accused the Baronet of having, by surreptitious
      means, obtained possession of his property; in other words, of having
      inveigled away his dog; and demanding instant restitution.
    </p>
    <p>
      Sir Felix fired at the accusation, divested as it was of the shadow of
      truth, yet unsuspicious of design, would have instantly relinquished his
      canine acquaintance, but for the interposition of Dashall, who suspected
      this intrusive personage to be neither more nor less than a dog-stealer,
      of whom there are many in London continually on the alert for booty. These
      fellows pick up all stray dogs, carry them home, and detain them until
      such time as they are advertised, and a commensurate reward is offered by
      the respective owners. If, then, the dog is intrinsically of no value, and
      consequently unsaleable, the adept in this species of depredation, finding
      he can do no better, takes the dog home, receives the promised reward, and
      generally an additional gratuity in compensation of keep and trouble; but,
      should it so happen, that the proffered remuneration is not equivalent to
      the worth of the animal, the conscientious professor of knavery carries
      his goods to a more lucrative market. At the instance of Dashall,
      therefore, Sir Felix was determined to retain the animal until the
      claimant brought irrefragable proof of ownership. The fellow blustered,&mdash;the
      Baronet was immovable in his resolution;&mdash;when the other threw off
      all disguise, and exhibiting himself in pristine blackguardism, inundated
      Sir Felix with a torrent of abuse; who disdaining any minor notice of his
      scurrility, seized the fellow, with one hand by the cape of his coat, with
      the other by the waistband of his breeches, and bearing him to the door,
      as he would any other noxious animal, fairly pitched him head foremost
      into the street, to the manifest surprise and dismay of the passengers, to
      whom he told a "pitiable tale," when one of the crowd pronounced him to be
      a notorious dog-stealer, and the fellow, immediately on this recognition,
      made a precipitate retreat. <span class="pagenum">[328]</span> "I am
      glad," said Dashall to his friends, who had witnessed the result of this
      affair from one of the windows of the coffee-room, "that our canine
      acquaintance (patting the animal at the same time) is now clearly
      exonerated from any participation of knavery. I had my suspicions that he
      was a well-disciplined associate in iniquity, taught to follow any person
      whom his pretended owner might point at, as a fit object of prey."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Baronet and the Squire, particularly the latter, had heard much of the
      "Frauds of London," but neither of them was aware that metropolitan
      roguery was carried on and accelerated through the medium of canine
      agency.
    </p>
    <p>
      In confirmation of this fact, however, Dashall mentioned two
      circumstances, both of which had occurred within these few years back, the
      one of a man who, in different parts of the suburbs, used to secrete
      himself behind a hedge, and when a lady came in view, his dog would go
      forth to rob her; the reticule was the object of plunder, which the dog
      seldom failed to get possession of, when he would instantly carry the
      spoil to his master. The other case was that of a person who had trained
      his dog to depredations in Whitechapel-market. This sly thief would
      reconnoitre the butcher's stalls, particularly on a Saturday night amidst
      the hurry of business, and carry off whatever piece of meat was most
      conveniently tangible, and take it home with all possible caution and
      celerity. We have heard of their answering questions, playing cards, and
      casting accompts,&mdash;in fact, their instinctive sagacity has frequently
      the appearance of reasoning faculties; they even now are competent to
      extraordinary performances, and what further wonders the ingenuity of man
      may teach them to accomplish, remains hereafter to be ascertained.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The following anecdote is particularly illustrative of
     canine sagacity. It shews that the dog is sensible of
     unmerited injury, and will revenge it accordingly; it
     exhibits the dog also, as a reflective animal, and proves
     that, though he has not the gift of speech, he is yet
     endowed with the power of making himself understood by his
     own species. Some years ago, the traveller of a mercantile
     house in London, journeying into Cornwall, was followed by
     his favourite dog, to Exeter; where the traveller left him,
     in charge of the landlord of the Inn, until his return. The
     animal was placed in an inner yard, which, for sometime
     back, had been in the sole occupation of the house-dog; and
     the latter, considering the new comer an intruder, did not
     fail to give the poor stranger many biting taunts
     accordingly. Deserted, scorned, insulted and ill-treated,
     the poor animal availed himself of the first opportunity,
     and escaped. The landlord scoured the country in quest of
     the fugitive, without effect. After the lapse of a few days,
     the traveller's dog returned to the Inn, accompanied by two
     others, and the triumvirate entering the yard, proceeded to
     execute summary vengeance on the house-dog, and drove him
     howling from his territories.    The two dogs were from
     London,&mdash;

          "Their locket letter'd braw-brass collars,
           Shew'd they were gentlemen and scholars."

     Hence it appears, that the traveller's dog went to London,
     told his grievance to his two friends, and brought them to
     Exeter to avenge his cause!
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[329]</span> Emerging from the coffee-house,
      companied by their newly acquired canine friend, our observers proceeded
      along Piccadilly, when reaching its extremity, and turning into the Park
      by Constitution-hill, they were met by the servant, Thady.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your honour," said the valet, "haven't I been after soaking you, here and
      there, and every where, and no where at all, at all, vrid this letter, bad
      luck to it, becays of the trouble it may give you; and indeed I was sent
      after your honour by Miss Macgilligan;&mdash;there's ill luck at home,
      your honour."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then I shall not make any haste," said Sir Felix, "to meet such a guest."
    </p>
    <p>
      He then read aloud the ominous epistle:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "My dear Nephew.&mdash;A vexatious affair has occurred.&mdash;I shall be
      glad to see you, as soon as possible.&mdash;J. M."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Perhaps you can oblige us with the history," said the Baronet, "of this
      same 'vexatious affair;' but observe me, let it be an abridgement,&mdash;Miss
      Macgilligan will favour us with it in detail."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why then, your honour," said the valet, "you had not gone out many
      minutes, when there came a <i>rit-tat</i> to the door, and a gintail
      good-looking gentleman inquired for Mr. A&mdash;&mdash;a. Begging your
      pardon, says I, if it is my master vou mane, he does not belong to the
      family of the Misters at all; his name is Sir Felix O'Grady, of the
      province of Munster, Baronet, and I am his valet; long life and good luck
      to both of us!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[330]</span> "This is rather a tedious
      commencement," observed Sir Felix to his marvelling associates,&mdash;"but
      I believe we must let the fellow tell the story in his own way.&mdash;Well,
      Tliady, what next?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "So, your Honour, he inquired whether he could spaak wid you, and I told
      him that it was rather doubtful, becays you were not at home; but, says I,
      Miss Judy Macgilligan, his Honour's reverend aunt, is now in her
      dressing-room, and no doubt will be proud in the honour of your
      acquaintance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "My 'reverend aunt' certainly ought to feel herself very much obliged to
      you.&mdash;Well, Sir!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "And so, your Honour, the maid went for instructions, and Miss Macgilligan
      desired that the gentleman should be shewn into the drawing-room, until
      she could make her appearance. Well, then, after waiting some little time,
      he rings the bell, with the assurance of a man of quality, just as if he
      had been at home. So up stairs I goes, and meets him in the hall. 'Pray,'
      says he, 'have the goodness to present my best respects to the lady; I
      will not obtrude upon her at present, but shall call again tomorrow,' and
      away he walked; and that's all, your Honour." "That's all! What am I to
      understand then by the 'vexatious affair' my aunt speaks of?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "O," exclaimed Thady, recollecting himself,&mdash;"may be she manes her
      gold watch, which the gentleman discovered in the drawing-room, and
      carried away in his pocket, by mistake!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very well, Sir," said the Baronet; "now that we have «orne to the finis,
      you may go home."
    </p>
    <p>
      It is evident the gentleman had availed himself of the Baronet's absence
      from home, and that the information derived from the communicative valet
      encouraged the hope of success which he so adroitly realized.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dashall and his Cousin were about sympathizing with the Baronet on this
      new misfortune, when he gave vent to bis feelings by an immoderate fit of
      laughter!&mdash;"Miss Macgilligan has had the benefit of a practical
      lesson," he exclaimed, "which she cannot fail to remember;&mdash;her
      vanity would not permit her seeing the stranger until the frivolities of
      the toilet were adjusted, and thus he made the most of a golden
      opportunity."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[331]</span> The three friends now retraced their
      steps along Piccadilly, until they arrived at the residence of Dashall,
      when they separated; the Baronet to condole with Miss Macgilligan, and the
      two Cousins to dress, preparatory to their dining with an eminent merchant
      in the city.
    </p>
    <p>
      Leaving then, for the present, Sir Felix and his aunt to their own family
      cogitations, we shall accompany the Hon. Tom Dashall and the Squire of
      Belville-hall on their civic expedition.
    </p>
    <p>
      The wealthy citizen at whose table they were now entertained, rose, like
      many others, the children of industry, from comparative indigence to
      affluence, and from obscurity to eminence.
    </p>
    <p>
      The party was select; the dinner was sumptuous, yet unostentatious; and
      the conversation, if not exactly in the first class of refinement, was to
      the two strangers interestingly instructive, as embracing topics of
      mercantile pursuit with which they had hitherto been unacquainted. It was
      also highly enlivened by the sprightly sallies of three beautiful and
      elegantly accomplished young ladies, the daughters of the amiable host and
      hostess; and to these fair magnets of attraction, whom Dashall happily
      denominated the Graces, our gallant cavaliers were particularly assiduous
      in their attentions. The party broke up, after an evening of reciprocal
      enjoyment; and Dashall on the way home expressed his belief that, with the
      solitary exception of one colossal instance of ignorance and brutality,
      "the very respectable man" in society is most generally to be found among
      the merchants of London.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 "The very respectable. Man" is the true representative of
     the commercial character of Great Britain. He possesses more
     information than the Dutch trader, and more refinement than
     the Scotch manufacturer, with all the business
     qualifications of either. He is shrewd, industrious, manly,
     and independent; and as he is too much in earnest for the
     slightest affectation, he shews his character in his dress,
     his carriage, and his general appearance. His dress is at
     once plain and neat; and if his coat should accidentally
     exhibit the cut of a more genteel manufacturer, the
     interstice between his boot (he wears top boots) and small
     clothes, the fashion of his cravat, which is rolled round a
     stiffner two inches in diameter, and tied in a bow, besides
     a variety of other more minute characteristics, decidedly
     refute all suspicion of an attempt at attaining the
     appearance of a man of fashion. The end of a Spitalfields
     silk-handkerchief just appearing from the pocket hole at the
     top of his skirt, shews at once his regard for good things
     and native manufactures; while the dignity of his tread
     declares his consciousness of his own importance, the
     importance of "a very respectable man," and to attribute it
     to any other than such an "honest pride," would be
     derogatory to his reputation and feelings. If he meets a
     business acquaintance of an higher rank than his own, his
     respectful yet unembarrassed salutation at once sufficiently
     expresses the disparity of their two conditions, and his
     consciousness of the respectability of his own, while the
     respectfully condescending notice of the Peer exhibits the
     reversed flow of the same feelings. The very respect-able
     man is always accurately acquainted with the hackney coach
     fares to the different parts of London, and any attempt at
     imposition on the part of the coachman is sure to be
     detected and punished. He is never to be caught walking to
     the Bank on a public holiday; and the wind must have shifted
     very fast indeed, if it should happen to be in the north,
     when he believes it to be in the south. The state of the
     stocks is familiar to him; and as he watches their
     fluctuations with an attentive eye, their history, for weeks
     or even for months, is often in his memory. The very
     respectable man is always employed, but never in a hurry;
     and he perhaps is never better pleased than when he meets a
     congenial friend, who interrupts the current of business by
     the introduction of a mutual discussion of some important
     failure: Mr. Such-a-one's rapid acquirement of fortune,&mdash;the
     rise or fall of the funds, &amp;c,&mdash;of all which the causes or
     consequences are importantly whispered or significantly
     prophesied. At home the government of the very respectable
     man's family is arbitrary, but the governor is not a tyrant;
     his wife has not, like the woman of fashion, any distinct
     rights, but she enjoys extensive indulgencies; she has
     power, but it flows from him, and though she is a
     responsible, she is not a discretional, agent. The table is
     to correspond with the moderation of the master, and the
     matron will be scolded or reproved as it varies from the
     proper medium between meanness and profusion.

     The very respectable man is never less in his element than
     when he is in the centre of his wife's parties, for here he
     must resign the reins into her hands, and, alas! there is no
     such character as the very respectable woman. All our women
     would be women of fashion; and in dress and expense, in the
     numbers of their card tables, and the splendour of their
     parties, in every thing but manners, they are. Here, at his
     own fireside, the very respectable man may be considered as
     not at home till a rubber, a genial rubber, which is
     provided him as soon as possible, renders him blind to the
     folly and deaf to the clamour of the scene. The very
     respect-able man shews to least advantage as a politician;
     as his opinions are derived less from reading than
     experience, they are apt to be dogmatical and contracted. In
     political philosophy he is too frequently half a century
     behind his age; is still in the habit of considering specie
     as wealth, and talks loudly of the commercial benefits of
     the late war. Such is the "very respectable man," a
     character decidedly inferior to that of many individuals in
     the class of society immediately above him; but which,
     considered as the character of a class, appears to be
     superior at once to that above and that below it&mdash;on a
     comparison with that above too, it more than makes up in the
     mass of its virtues for the deficiency in their quality, and
     appears to be like Solon's laws, if not the very best that
     might be, at least the best of which the state of society
     admits. In the lower orders, the social character is in its
     mineral state; in the higher, the fineness of the gold is
     prejudicial to its durability. In the "very respectable man
     "it is found mixed with some portion of alloy, but in
     greater quantity, and adapted to all the uses and purposes
     for which it is designed. As a civil member of society, if
     his theoretical politics are defective, the advantages
     derived to society from his industry and integrity, more
     than counterbalance those defects in his theory. As a
     religious member of society, if his religion might be more
     refined, if his attendance at church is considered rather as
     a parochial than a spiritual duty, and his appearance in his
     own pew is at least as much regarded as his devotions there;
     the regularity of his attendance, the harmony of his
     principles and practice, his exemplary manner of filling his
     different relations, more than make up for the inferiority
     in the tone of his religion. The commercial and religious
     capital of society are, in short, continually advancing by
     his exertions, though they don't advance so fast as they
     otherwise would if those exertions were directed by more
     intellect.
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0010" id="link42HCH0010">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXIV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Vainly bountiful nature shall fill up Life's measure,
          If we're not to enjoyment awake;
          Churls that cautiously filtrate and analyze pleasure,
          Deserve not the little they take.

          I hate all those pleasures where angling and squaring.
          And fitting and cutting by rules,
          And &mdash;&mdash;- me&mdash;dear me, I beg pardon for swearing,
          All that follow such fashions are fools.

          For let who may be undone,
          I say Life in London,
          Of pleasure's the prop and the staff,
          That sets ev'ry muscle
          In a comical bustle
          And tickles one into a laugh."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[334]</span> The long protracted visit to Vauxhall
      being at length finally arranged, our party soon found themselves in the
      midst of this gay and fascinating scene of amusement.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These charming gardens," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "which you may
      perhaps have some recollection of upon a masquerade occasion, having
      lately fallen into new hands, have assumed, under their direction and
      management, a new appearance of additional splendour and magnificence
      perhaps scarcely ever surpassed, and the present proprietors appear to
      have studied the comfort and gratification of their visitors as well as
      their own advantage; but of this we shall be better judges before the
      night is spent."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Right," replied Sparkle, "I am not fond of far fetched descriptions,
      which may upon investigation prove to have originated more in the
      imagination of the author than in reality to exist."
    </p>
    <p>
      "At all events," continued Tom, "the Gardens themselves are beautiful and
      extensive, and contain a variety of walks, which, if but tastefully
      illuminated, and attended by rank, fashion, and beauty, can never fail to
      be attractive."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[335]</span> Our heroes rushed forward to the
      splendid scene of enchantment, which had drawn forth the previous
      observations, mingling with the crowds of well dressed persons, who like
      themselves were upon the alert to witness this delightful place of summer
      amusement in the new form which it has recently assumed: the virandas
      tastefully festooned with painted canvass&mdash;the brilliantly
      illuminated orchestra, and the animated countenances of the company,
      conspired to produce an effect almost inconceivable, while new objects of
      delight were continually bursting upon their view. The illuminated
      colonade newly decorated with carved and painted flowers, fruit, and
      foliage, and Mr. Singleton's original whole length transparent portrait of
      his Majesty in his coronation robes, alternately attracted attention, as
      well as the four cosmoramas constructed in various parts of the gardens,
      consisting of some very pretty views of the New Exchange at Paris, scenes
      in Switzerland, &amp;c. In the musical department, Sparkle was much
      pleased to find some of the old favourites, particularly Mr. Charles
      Taylor and Mrs. Bland, as well as with the performance of a Miss Graddon,
      who possesses a rich voice, with considerable power and flexibility, and
      of Madame Georgina, an East Indian Lady, who afterwards sung very
      charmingly in the Rotunda, accompanying herself on the piano forte, in a
      style which proved her to be a most skilful performer.
    </p>
    <p>
      But the grand subject of their admiration was what is rather affectedly
      called "The Heptaplasiesoptron," or fancy reflective proscenium, which is
      placed in the long room fronting the orchestra of the Rotunda. It is
      entirely lined with looking glass, and has in all probability originated
      in the curious effect produced by the kaleidoscope, and the looking glass
      curtains lately exhibited at our theatres. This splendid exhibition is
      fitted up with ornamented draperies, and presents a fountain of real water
      illuminated, revolving pillars, palm trees, serpents, foliage, and
      variegated lamps; and the mirrors are so placed as to reflect each object
      seven times. This novelty appeared to excite universal admiration,
      inspiring the company with ideas of refreshing coolness. The bubbling of
      water, the waving of the foliage, and the seven times reflected effulgence
      of the lamps, gave the whole an appearance of enchantment, which sets all
      description at defiance.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[336]</span> Having taken a complete circle through
      this round of delights, interrupted only by the congratulations and
      inquiries of friends, the appointed hour for exhibiting the fire-works
      arrived, when they were additionally gratified by a display of the most
      splendid description, and the famous ascent <i>a la Saqui</i> was
      admirably executed by Longuemarc; after witnessing which, they quickly
      retired to a box, where they gave directions for supper. It is but justice
      to say, that upon this being furnished, they found the refreshments to be
      of the best quality, and supplied upon moderate terms; the wines by the
      London Wine Company, and the viands by Mr. Wayte.
    </p>
    <p>
      About two o'clock in the morning, our friends took their departure from
      this romantic spot, after an excursion fraught with pleasure and delight.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the following morning, Sparkle received a letter from Merrywell, with
      information of the death of his uncle, and of his succession to the
      estate, having arrived just in time to prevent his decease without a will.
      This was a subject of exultation to all the party, though to none more so
      than Sparkle, particularly as the estate alluded to was situated in the
      neighbourhood of his own residence.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Merrywell," said Dashall, "will become a gay fellow now, as he will have
      ample means, as well as inclination (which I know he has never been
      wanting of) to sport his figure in good style, without resorting to any
      scheme to keep the game alive."
    </p>
    <p>
      "True," said Sparkle, "without crossing and jostling, and if he has his
      own good in view, he will reside chiefly in the country, choose an amiable
      partner for life, and only pay a visit to the metropolis occasionally; for
      to live in this land of temptations, where you can hardly step across the
      way without getting into error, must be baneful in effect to a young man
      like him, of an ardent mind. What say you, friend Tallyho?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess," replied Bob, "that I entertain thoughts very similar to
      yours; besides, I apprehend that our old friend Merrywell has had
      sufficient experience himself to admit the justice of your observation."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[337]</span> "Pshaw," rejoined Dashall, "you are
      getting completely unfashionable. What can be more bang up than a Life in
      London&mdash;high life and low life&mdash;shake the castor, tip the flash,
      and nibble the blunt. Look for instance at young Lord Lappit&mdash;cares
      for nothing&mdash;all blood and spirit&mdash;fire and tow&mdash;up to
      every thing, and down as a hammer."
    </p>
    <p>
      "His is a general case," replied Sparkle, "and is only one among numerous
      others, to prove that many of the disorders which are daily visible in
      high life, may be traced to the education, or rather the want of education
      of the youthful nobility and gentry. It would be a shocking and
      insupportable degradation to send a sprig of fashion to school among
      common boys, where probably he might learn something really useful. No,
      no,&mdash;he must have a private tutor, who is previously instructed to
      teach him nothing more than what will enable him to pass muster, as not
      quite a fool. Under this guidance, he skims over a few authors almost
      without reading, and at all events without knowing what they have written,
      merely with a view to acquaint him that there were once such persons in
      existence; after which, this tutor accompanies him to one of the public
      schools, Westminster, Harrow, or Eton, where the tutor writes his thesis,
      translates the classics, and makes verses for him, as well as he is able.
      In the new situation, the scholar picks up more of the frailties of the
      living, than he does of the instructions of departed characters. The
      family connections and the power of purse, with which the students are
      aided, embolden them to assume an unbounded license, and to set at
      complete defiance all sober rules and regulations; and it may be justly
      remarked that our public seminaries are admirably situated for the
      indulgence of their propensities: for instance, Westminster School is
      fortunately situated in the immediate neighbourhood of a famous place of
      instruction called Tothill (vulgarly Tuttle) Fields, where every species
      of refined lewdness and debauchery, and manners the most depraved, are
      constantly exhibited; consequently they enjoy the great advantages of
      learning the slang language, and of hearing prime chaunts, rum glees, and
      kiddy catches, in the purest and most bang up style. He has likewise a
      fine opportunity of contracting an unalterable penchant for the frail
      sisterhood, blue ruin, milling, cock fighting, bull and badger baiting,
      donkey racing, drinking, swearing, swaggering, and other refined
      amusements, so necessary to form the character of an accomplished
      gentleman."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[338]</span> "Again, Harrow School is happily so
      near to the metropolis, as to afford frequent opportunities for occasional
      visits to similar scenes of contagion and fashionable dissipation, that
      the scholars do not fail to seek advantages of taking lessons in all those
      delectable sciences.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Eton, it is true, is somewhat farther removed from the nursery of
      improvement, but it is near enough to Windsor, of which place it is not
      necessary to say much, for their Bacchanalian and Cyprian orgies, and
      other fashionable festivities, are well known. So that notwithstanding
      they are not in the immediate vicinity of the metropolis, there can
      scarcely be a doubt of their being able to sport their figures to
      advantage, whenever they are let loose upon society.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Cambridge is but a short distance from that place of sporting notoriety,
      Newmarket, consequently it is next to impossible but that a youth of an
      aspiring mind should be up to all the manouvres of a race course&mdash;understanding
      betting, hedging off, crossing and jostling, sweating and training&mdash;know
      all the jockeys&mdash;how to give or take the odds&mdash;lay it on thick,
      and come it strong. Some have an unconquerable ambition to distinguish
      themselves as a whip, sport their tits in tip top style, and become
      proficients in buckish and sporting slang&mdash;to pitch it rum, and
      astonish the natives&mdash;up to the gab of the cad. They take upon
      themselves the dress and manners of the Varment Club, yet noted for the
      appearance of their prads, and the dexterity with which they can manage
      the ribbons, and, like Goldfinch, pride themselves on driving the long
      coaches&mdash;'mount the box, tip coachee a crown, dash along at full
      speed, rattle down the gateway, take care of your heads&mdash;never kill'd
      but one woman and a child in all my life&mdash;that's your sort.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Fine pictures of a University Education," said Tom, "but Sparkle always
      was a good delineator of real character; and there is one thing to be
      said, he has been an eye witness of the facts, nay a partaker of the
      sports."
    </p>
    <p>
      "True," continued Sparkle, "and, like many others, have had something like
      enjoyment in them too."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye, aye, no doubt of that," said Bob, dryly,&mdash;"but how does it
      happen that you have omitted Oxford altogether?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[339]</span> "Nay," said Sparkle, "there is not much
      difference in any of them. The students hate all learning but that which
      they acquire in the brothel, the ring, or the stable.
    </p>
    <p>
      They spend their terms somehow or other in or near the University, and
      their vacations at Jackson's Rooms in London; so that they know nothing
      more of mathematics than sufficient to calculate odds and chances. This,
      however, depends upon the wealth of the parties; for notwithstanding there
      are some excellent statutes by which they ought to be guided, a nobleman
      or wealthy commoner is indulged according to his titles or riches, without
      any regard to the rules and regulations in such cases made and provided.
    </p>
    <p>
      "From this situation they are at length let loose, thoroughly accomplished
      in every thing but what they ought to know. Some make their appearance as
      exquisites or dandies&mdash;a sort of indescribable being, if being such
      things may be called. Others take the example of the bang ups&mdash;make
      themselves perfect in milling, swearing, greeking, talking flash, and mail
      coach driving, until John Doe and Richard Roe drive them into Abbot's
      preserve, a circumstance which puts a temporary check upon the sports&mdash;though
      if the Collegian is but up to the logic, he is very soon down upon the
      coves his creditors,{1} bowls them out by harassing expenses, and walks
      out himself, up to snuff, and fly."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Bowls them out by harassing expenses.&mdash;A proof of the
     power which has been exercised under the existing Insolvent
     Debtor's Act, will be found in the following extract from a
     daily paper:&mdash;

     An unfortunate debtor was opposed in the Insolvent Debtors'
     Court, for having resisted particular creditors with
     vexatious law proceedings, sham pleas, &amp;c. The public is not
     generally aware of the extent to which such vexatious
     resistance can be carried. In the investigations that have
     taken place before a Committee of the House of Commons, on
     the subject of insolvent debtors, Mr. Thomas Clarke, (at the
     time clerk of the Court,) stated, that in a debtor's book he
     found a paper, 'wherein it was pointed out to debtors how to
     harass creditors.' He had heard, he said, that it was sold
     from one prisoner to another, in a printed form, for 6d.
     each. That witness then delivered to the committee a book,
     from which the following extract was read,&mdash;it is extracted
     from the Parliamentary Report:&mdash;

     'Law proceedings.&mdash;When arrested and held to bail, and after
     being served with a declaration, you may plead a general
     issue, which brings you to trial the sooner of any plea that
     you can put in; but if you want to vex your plaintiff, put
     in a special plea; and, if in custody, get your attorney to
     plead in your name, which will cost you 1L. 1s., your
     plaintiff, 31L. as expenses. If you do not mean to try the
     cause, you have no occasion to do so until your plaintiff
     gets judgment against you; he must, in the term after you
     put in a special plea, send what is termed the paper book,
     which you must return with 7s. 6d. otherwise you will not
     put him to half the expenses. When he proceeds, and has
     received a final judgment against you, get your attorney to
     search the office appointed for that purpose in the Temple,
     and when he finds that judgment is actually signed, he must
     give notice to the plaintiff's attorney to attend the master
     to tax his costs, at which time your attorney must have a
     writ of error ready, and give it to the plaintiffs attorney
     before the master, which puts him to a very great expense,
     as he will have the same charges to go over again. The writ
     of error will cost you 4L. 4s. If you want to be further
     troublesome to your plaintiffs, make your writ of error
     returnable in Parliament, which costs you 8L. 8s. and your
     plaintiff 100/. Should he have the courage to follow you
     through all your proceedings, then file a bill in the
     Exchequer, which will cost about 5L. or 6L.; and if he
     answers it, it will cost him 80L. more. After this you may
     file a bill in Chancery, which will cost about 10L.; and if
     he does not answer this bill, you will get an injunction,
     and at the same time an attachment from the court against
     him, and may take his body for contempt of court, in not
     answering your last bill. You may file your bill in the
     Court of Chancery, instead of the Exchequer, only the latter
     costs you the least. If you are at any time served with a
     copy of a writ, take no further notice of it than by keeping
     it; when you are declared against, do not fail to put in a
     special plea immediately, and most likely you will hear no
     more of the business, as your plaintiff will probably not
     like to incur any further expense, after having been at so
     much.'

     Thus a creditor may be put to an expense of three hundred
     and fourteen pounds, by a debtor, for the small cost of 30L.
     10s. and all because the laws allowed him to sue for his
     own; and if he and his attorney do not keep a sharp look
     out, the creditor may get committed for 'contempt of court.'
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[341]</span> "I perceive," said Tom, "that your
      imagination is flying away from your subject; though I admit the justice
      of your remarks, as generally applicable to what is termed the higher
      ranks of society, and that they are imitated or aped in succession to
      those of the lower orders; but we appear to have imperceptibly got into a
      long descriptive conversation, instead of pursuing our usual plan of
      drawing inferences from actual observation. Let us forth and walk awhile."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," said Sparkle, "I see you wish to change the subject:
      however, I doubt not there will be a time when you will think more
      seriously, and act more usefully."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Upon my life you are growing sentimental."
          "Never mind," said Bob, "keep your spirits up."

          "The world's a good thing, oh how sweet and delicious
          The bliss and delight it contains;
          Devil a pleasure but fortune crams into our dishes,
          Except a few torments and pains.

          Then wine's a good thing, the dear drink's so inviting,
          Where each toper each care sweetly drowns;
          Where our friends we so cherish, so love and delight in,
          Except when we're cracking their crowns."
</pre>
    <p>
      By the time Bob had concluded his verse, they were on the move, and taking
      their direction through St. James's-street, turning the corner of which,&mdash;"there,"
      said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "that is the celebrated Lord Shampetre, of
      whose name and character you have before heard."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Indeed," said Bob. "Well, I must say, that if I met him in the street, I
      should have supposed him to be an old clothesman."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hush," said Sparkle, "don't be too severe in your observations, for I
      have been given to understand his Lordship has expressed his indignation
      upon a former occasion at such a comparison; though I must acknowledge it
      is not altogether an unjust one; and if exalted, I beg pardon, I mean
      popular characters, will force themselves into public notice by their
      follies, their vices or their eccentricities, they can have no right to
      complain."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[342]</span> "And pray," said the Hon. Tom Dashall,
      "where is one to be found who has made himself more conspicuous than the
      one in question, and especially by a very recent occurrence. The
      fashionable world is full of the subject of his amatory epistles to the
      sister of a celebrated actress,{1} and her very 'commodious mother;' but I
      dare say
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 To elucidate the subject here alluded to, we cannot do
     better than give insertion to the following police report:&mdash;

     PERFIDY   AND  PROFLIGACY  OF  A PEER!

     Bow Street.&mdash;An application was lately made for a warrant to
     apprehend Miss B., the sister of a celebrated actress, for
     stealing some chimney ornaments and China cups and saucers.
     The application was made by the mother of the accused, in
     consequence of her having eloped, and with a view to reclaim
     her before her ruin should be consummated. The warrant was
     granted, and in a short time the fair delinquent was led in,
     resting on the arm of a Mr. B., well known in the
     fashionable circles. Mr. C. a solicitor, appeared with the
     mother, and the property found by the officer; the mother
     identified it, and stated, that she should be happy to
     forego the charge, on her daughter consenting to return to
     her home. The magistrate then called on the accused for her
     defence, when she asserted that the articles were her own,
     purchased with money given to her by her friends. In
     corroboration, she called the servant, who spoke to a
     conversation, in which Mrs. B. blamed her daughter for
     spending her money so foolishly; and declared that the
     things were always considered to belong to the daughter, and
     were given up without the slightest objection when she
     applied for them in the name of Miss B. This statement
     produced a desultory conversation, which was terminated by
     the solicitor remarking, that the principal object, the
     return of Miss B., had been lost sight of. Mr. B. then said,
     he had paid for the education and every charge of Miss B.
     for the last two years. He challenged inquiry into his
     conduct, which would be found to have arisen from the most
     honourable feelings, when he should prove that Miss B. had
     sought his protection from the persecution of Lord P., who
     had been sanctioned in his dishonourable overtures by her
     mother. When personal insult had been used, she fled to him;
     he hired lodgings and a trusty servant for her. A number of
     Lord P.'s letters were then read, which abounded in vicious
     ideas, obscenities, and gross figures sketched with the pen.
     Miss B., then in tears, stated, that she had been shut up
     with Lord P. with her mother's knowledge, when indecent
     attacks were made by him upon her on a sofa; and that her
     mother urged her to become his mistress, saying she should
     have an allowance of 500L. a-year. The mother strongly
     denied these assertions, and, after the magistrate had
     animadverted on the alleged disgraceful conduct of the
     mother, if true, the affair was settled by Miss B. (only
     16,) being put under the care of a female friend, agreeable
     to both parties, Mr. B. to pay all the expenses.

     Having thus given an account of the affair, as related in
     most of the daily papers, we think it right to add the
     following by way of elucidation.

     The young lady is Miss B&mdash;rt&mdash;l&mdash;zzi, daughter of a late
     cele-brated engraver of that name, and younger sister of an
     actress on the boards of Old Drury, who has obtained great
     notoriety for a pretty face, a roving eye, a fine set of
     teeth, a mellow voice, and an excessive penchant for
     appearing before the public in breeches&mdash;Macheath and Don
     Giovanni to wit. 'Mr. B.,' the gentleman under whose
     protection she is living, or rather was living, is a
     gentleman of large West India possessions, who some time ago
     immortalized himself in a duel about a worthless woman, with
     Lord C&mdash;If&mdash;d, in which duel he had the honour of sending
     his lordship to his account with all his 'imperfections on
     his head.' The third party, 'Lord P.,' is a nobleman, whose
     chief points are a queer-shaped hat, long shirt sleeves,
     exquisitely starched, very white gloves, a very low
     cabriolet, and a Lord George Gordon-ish affectation of
     beard. We do not know that he is distinguished for any thing
     else. For the fourth party&mdash;the young lady's mamma, she is,&mdash;
     what she is; a rather elderly personage, remarkably
     commodious, very discreet, 'and all that sort of thing.'
     We could not help admiring her commodiousness when she
     accompanied Lord P. and her daughter to Drury-lane Theatre,
     the last time the King was there. It was almost equal to his
     Lordship's assiduity, and the young lady's <i>ennui</i>.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[343]</span> his Lordship is displeased with no part
      of the eclat, except the quiz that his liberal offer of £500. would be
      about £25. per annum, or 9s. 7d. a week&mdash;a cheap purchase of a young
      lady's honour, and therefore a good bargain."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I believe," continued Sparkle, "there is little about him, either as to
      person or to character, which entitles him to occupy more of our time,
      which may be better devoted to more agreeable and deserving subjects."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Apropos," said Dashall, taking Sparkle at his word, "do you observe a
      person on the other side of the way with a blue nose and a green coat, cut
      in the true jockey style, so as to render it difficult to ascertain
      whether he is a gentleman or a gentleman's groom? That is Mr. Spankalong,
      who has a most unconquerable attachment to grooms, coachmen, and stable
      assistants; whose language and manners it is one of the principal studies
      of his life to imitate. He prides himself on being a good driver of four
      in hand, and tickling the tits along the road in a mail carriage, is the
      <i>ne plus ultra</i> of his ambition. He will take a journey of an hundred
      miles out of town, merely to meet and drive up a mail coach, paying for
      his own passage, and feeing the coachmen for their permission. Disguised
      in a huge white coat, with innumerable capes and mother o'pearl buttons,
      he seats himself on the box&mdash;Elbows square, wrists pliant&mdash;all
      right&mdash;Hayait&mdash;away they go. He takes his glass of gin and
      bitters on the <span class="pagenum">[344]</span> road&mdash;opens the
      door for the passengers to get in&mdash;with 'now my masters&mdash;you
      please;' and seems quite as much at home as Mr. Matthews at the Lyceum,
      with 'all that sort of thing, and every thing in the world.' He is,
      however, not singular in his taste, for many of our hereditary statesmen
      are to be found among this class, save and except that he carries his
      imitations to a farther extent than any person I ever knew; and it is a
      fact, that he had one of his fore teeth punched out, in order to enable
      the noble aspirant to give the true coachman's whistle, and to spit in a
      Jehu-like manner, so as to project the saliva from his lips, clear of the
      cattle and traces, into the hedge on the near side of the road."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Accomplishments that are truly deserving the best considerations of a
      noble mind," rejoined Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And absolutely necessary to the finished gentleman of the present day, of
      course," continued Sparkle; "and as I have not had a lounge in these
      Corinthian regions for some little time, I am glad to be thus furnished
      with a key to characters that may be new to me."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is one on the opposite side of the way not altogether new, as he
      has made some noise in the world during his time&mdash;I mean the
      gentleman whose features exhibit so much of the rouge&mdash;it is the
      celebrated Sir George Skippington, formerly well known in Fop's Alley, and
      at the Opera; not so much on account of his elegant person, lively wit, or
      polished address, as for his gallantries, and an extraordinary affectation
      of dress, approaching very nearly to the ridiculous, the chief part of his
      reputation being derived from wearing a pea-green coat, and pink silk
      stockings: he has, however, since that time become a dramatic writer, or
      at least a manufacturer of pantomime and shew; and&mdash;ah, but see&mdash;speaking
      of writers&mdash;here we have a Hook, from which is suspended a certain
      scandalous Journal, well known for its dastardly attacks upon private
      character, and whose nominal conductors are at this moment in durance
      vile; but a certain affair in the fashionable way of defaulting, has
      brought him down a peg or two. His ingenuity has been displayed on a
      variety of occasions, and under varying circumstances. His theatrical
      attempts have been successful, and at Harrow he was called the Green Man,
      in consequence of his affected singularity of wearing a complete suit of
      clothes of that colour. He appears to act at all times upon the favourite
      recommendation of Young Rapid, 'keep moving;' for he is always in motion,
      in consequence of which it is said, that Lord Byron wittily remarked, 'he
      certainly was not the Green Man and Still.'"{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The Green Man and Still in the well known sign of a
     pubic-house in Oxford Road.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[345]</span> "Why," cried Bob, "there seems to be as
      little of still life about him just now, as there is about Hookey Walker.
      But pray who is that dingy gentleman who passed us within the last minute,
      and who appeared to be an object of attraction to some persons on the
      opposite side&mdash;he appears to have been cut out for a tailor."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," replied Tom, "is a Baronet and cornuto, who married the handsome
      daughter of a great Marquis. She, however, turned out a complete
      termagant, who one day, in the heat of her rage, d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d
      her rib for a sneaking puppy, dashed a cup of coffee in his face, and
      immediately after flew for protection to a Noble Lord, who entertained a
      penchant for her. This, however, proved to be a bad speculation on her
      part; and having seriously reflected on the consequences of such conduct,
      she made her appearance again at her husband's door a few nights
      afterwards, and in the spirit of contrition sought forgiveness, under a
      promise of never transgressing any more, little doubting but her claim to
      admission would be allowed. Here, however, it seems she had reckoned
      without her host,&mdash;for the Baronet differing in opinion, would not
      listen to her proposition: her entreaties and promises were urged in vain,
      and the deserted though still <i>cara sposa</i>, has kept the portals of
      his door, as well as the avenues to his heart, completely closed to her
      since."
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment they were interrupted by the approach of a gaily dressed
      young man, who seizing Dashall by the hand, and giving him a hearty shake,
      exclaimed,&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha, my dear fellow, what Dashall, and as I live, Mr. Sparkle, you are
      there too, are you: d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;me, what's the scent&mdash;up to
      any thing&mdash;going any where&mdash;or any thing to do&mdash;eh&mdash;d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;me."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Quite <i>ad libitum</i>," replied Dashall, "happy to see Gayfield well
      and in prime twig,&mdash;allow me to introduce my Cousin, Robert Tallyho,
      Esq."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You do me proud, my dear fellow. Any thing new&mdash;can't live without
      novelty&mdash;who's up, who's down&mdash;what's the wonder of the day&mdash;how
      does the world wag&mdash;where is the haven of destination, and how do you
      weather the point."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[346]</span> "Zounds," replied Tom, "you ask more
      questions in a breath than we three can answer in an hour."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind&mdash;don't want you to answer; but at all events must have
      something to say&mdash;hate idleness either in speech or action&mdash;hate
      talking in the streets, can't bear staring at like a new monument or a
      statue. Talking of statues&mdash;I have it&mdash;good thought, go see
      Achilles, the ladies man&mdash;eh! what say you. D&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;me,
      made of cannons and other combustibles&mdash;Waterloo to wit&mdash;Come
      along, quite a bore to stand still&mdash;yea or nay, can't wait."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," said Sparkle, twitching Dashall by the arm, "it is
      quite new since my departure from town; "and joining arms, they proceeded
      towards the Park.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Been out of town," continued Gayfield,&mdash;"thought so&mdash;lost you
      all at once&mdash;glad you have not lost yourself. Any thing new in the
      country&mdash;always inquire&mdash;can't live without novelty&mdash;go to
      see every thing and every body, every where. Nothing new in the papers&mdash;Irish
      distresses old, but very distressing for a time: how the devil can you
      live in the country&mdash;can't imagine."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And I apprehend," replied Sparkle, "it will be of little use to explain;
      for a gentleman of so much information as yourself must know every thing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Good, but severe&mdash;never mind, I never trouble my head with other
      people's thoughts&mdash;always think for myself, let others do as they
      like. Hate inquisitive people, don't choose to satisfy all inquirers.
      Never ask questions of any one, don't expect answers. Have you seen the
      celebrated ventriloquist, Alexandre,&mdash;the Egyptian Tomb,&mdash;the&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle could hold no longer: the vanity and egotism of this everlasting
      prater, this rambler from subject to subject, without manner, method, or
      even thought, was too much; and he could not resist the temptation to
      laugh, in which he was joined by Tom and Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[347]</span> "What is the matter," inquired
      Gayfield, unconscious of being the cause of their risibility. "I see
      nothing to laugh at, d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;me, but I do love laughing, so
      I'll enjoy a little with you at all events; "and immediately he became a
      participator in their mirth, to the inexpressible delight of his
      companions; "but," continued he, "I see nothing to laugh at, and it is
      beneath the character of a philosopher to laugh at any thing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind," said Dashall, "we are not of that description&mdash;and we
      sometimes laugh at nothing, which I apprehend is the case in the present
      instance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I perfectly agree with the observation," rejoined Sparkle; "it is a case
      in point, and very well pointed too."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nothing could be better timed," said Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What than a horse laugh in the public streets! D&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d
      vulgar really&mdash;-quite <i>outre</i>, as we say. No, no, you ought to
      consider where you are, what company you are in, and never laugh without a
      good motive&mdash;what is the use of laughing."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A philosopher," said Tom Dashall, "need scarcely ask such a question. The
      superiority of his mind ought to furnish a sufficient answer."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then I perceive you are not communicative, and I always like to be
      informed; but never mind, here we shall have something to entertain us."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And at least," said Sparkle, "that is better than nothing."
    </p>
    <p>
      The observation, however, was lost upon the incorrigible fribble, who
      produced his snuff-box, and took a pinch, with an air that discovered the
      diamond ring upon his finger&mdash;pulled up his shirt collar&mdash;and at
      the same time forced down his waistcoat; conceiving no doubt that by such
      means he increased his consequence, which however was wholly lost upon his
      companions.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And this," said Sparkle, "is the so much talked of statue of Achilles&mdash;The
      Wellington Trophy&mdash;it is placed in a very conspicuous situation,
      however&mdash;and what says the pedestal&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          TO ARTHUR DUKE OF WELLINGTON,
          AND HIS BRAVE COMPANIONS IN ARMS,
          THIS STATUE OF ACHILLES,
          CAST FROM CANNON
          TAKEN IN THE VICTORIES OF
          SALAMANCA, VITTORIA, TOULOUSE, AND WATERLOO
          IS INSCRIBED
          BY THEIR COUNTRYWOMEN.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[348]</span> "Beautiful," said Gayfield&mdash;"Elegant&mdash;superb."
      "Bold," said Dashall, "but not very delicate." "A naked figure, truly,"
      continued Bob, "in a situation visited by the first circles of rank and
      fashion, is not to be considered as one of the greatest proofs either of
      modesty or propriety; but perhaps these ideas, as in many other instances,
      are exploded, or they are differently understood to what they were
      originally. A mantle might have been thought of by the ladies, if not the
      artist."
    </p>
    <p>
      "For my part," said Sparkle, "I see but little in it to admire."
    </p>
    <p>
      During this conversation, Gayfield was dancing round the figure with his
      quizzing glass in his hand, examining it at all points, and appearing to
      be highly amused and delighted.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It affords opportunities for a variety of observations," said Dashall,
      "and, like many other things, may perhaps be a nine days wonder. The
      public prints have been occupied upon the subject for a few days, and I
      know of but one but what condemns it upon some ground or other."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 In all probability the following remarks will be
     sufficient to make our readers acquainted with this so much
     talked of statue:&mdash;

     Kensington Gardens and the Park.&mdash;From three to seven
     o'clock on Sunday, the gardens were literally crowded to an
     over-How with the <i>élite</i> of the fashionable world. The
     infinite variety of shape and colour displayed in the female
     costume, the loveliness and dignity of multitudes of the
     fair wearers, and the serene brilliancy of the day,
     altogether surpassed any thing we have hitherto witnessed
     there.

     There was nothing on the drive in the Park except carriages
     and horsemen, dashing along to the gardens; and as to the
     'Wellington promenade,' it was altogether neglected. Whether
     it was that the 'naked majesty' of Achilles frightened the
     people away, or whether the place and its accompaniments
     were too garish for such weather, we know not, but certainly
     it seemed to be avoided most cautiously; with the exception
     of some two or three dozen Sunday-strollers, yawning upon
     the Anglo-Greco-Pimlico-hightopoltical statue above
     mentioned. It was curious enough to hear the remarks made by
     some of these good folks upon this giant exotic&mdash;this Greek
     prototype of British prowess. 'Well, I declare!' said a
     blooming young Miss, as she endeavoured to scan its brawny
     proportions, 'Well, I declare! did ever any body see the
     like!'&mdash;'Come along, Martha, love,' rejoined her scarlet-
     faced mamma; 'Come along, I say!&mdash;I wonder they pulled the
     tarpoling off before the trowsers were ready.'    'What a
     great green monster of a man it is,' exclaimed a meagre
     elderly lady, with a strong northern accent, to a tall bony
     red-whiskered man, who seemed to be her husband&mdash;'Do na ye
     think 'twad a looked mair dedicate in a kilt?' 'Whist!'
     replied the man; and, without uttering another syllable, he
     turned upon his heel and dragged the wonder-ing matron away.
     'La, ma, is that the Dook O' Vellunton vat stand up there
     in the sunshine?' 'Hold your tongue, Miss&mdash;little girls must
     not ask questions about them sort of things.' 'Be th'
     powers!' said one of three sturdy young fellows, as they
     walked round till they got to sunward of it.' Be th' powers,
     but he's a jewel of a fellow; ounly its not quite dacent to
     be straddling up there without a shirt&mdash;is it Dennis?'
     'Gad's blood man!' replied Dennis, rather angrily, 'Gad's
     blood man! dacency's quite out of the question in matters o'
     this kind, ye see.' ''Faith, and what do they call it?'
     asked the other. 'Is it&mdash;what do they call it?' re-joined
     Dennis, who seemed to consider himself a bit of a wag&mdash;'Why
     they mane to call it the Ladies' Fancy, to be sure!' and
     away they all went, 'laughing like so many horses,' as the
     German said, who had heard talk of a horse-laugh. Some of
     the spectators compared the shield to a parasol without a
     handle; others to a pot-lid; and one a sedate-looking old
     woman, observing the tarpawling still covering the legs and
     lower part of the thighs, remarked to her companion, that
     she supposed they had been uncovering it by degrees, in
     order to use the people to the sight gradually.    In short,
     poor Achilles evidently caused more surprise than
     admiration, and no small portion of ridicule. But then this
     was among the vulgar. No doubt the fashionable patronesses
     of the thing may view it with other eyes.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[349]</span> On their return from the Park, our
      party looked in at Tattersal's, where it proved to be settling day.
      Dashall and his Cousin had previously made a trip to Ascot Races, to enjoy
      a day's sport, and were so fortunate as to let in a knowing one for a
      considerable sum, by taking the long odds against a favourite horse. They
      therefore expected now to toutch the blunt, and thus realize the maxim of
      the poet, by "uniting profit and delight in one."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link4image-0003" id="link4image-0003">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page349.jpg" alt="Page349 Ascot Races " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      "Yonder," says Dashall, pointing out to his Cousin a very stout man, "is
      H. R. H.; he is said to have been a considerable winner, both at the late,
      as well as Epsom races; but the whole has since vanished at play, with
      heavy additions, and the black legs are now enjoying a rich harvest. The
      consequences have been, not only the sale of the fine estate of O&mdash;t&mdash;ds
      by the hammer, but even the family plate and personal property have been
      knocked down to the highest bidders, at Robbins's Rooms."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I should have expected," replied Bob, "that so much fatal experience,
      which is said to make even fools wise, would have taught a useful lesson,
      and restrained this gambling propensity, however violent."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[350]</span> "Psha, man," continued his Cousin, "you
      are a novice indeed to suppose any thing of the kind. No one uninitiated
      in these mysteries, can form an idea of the inextricable labyrinth, or the
      powerful spell which binds the votaries of play; and unfortunately this
      fatal passion seems to pervade in an unusual degree our present nobility:
      indeed it may be said there are comparatively but few of the great
      families who are not either reduced to actual poverty, or approximating
      towards it, in consequence of the inordinate indulgence of this vice."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          THE WELLINGTON TROPHY; or, LADIES' MAN{1}

          Air&mdash;'Oh, the Sight entrancing.'
          Oh, the sight entrancing,
          To see Achilles dancing,{2}
          Without a shirt
          Or Highland skirt,{3}
          "Where ladies' eyes are glancing:

     1 We are told that this gigantic statue is a most
     astonishing work of art, cast from the celebrated statue of
     Achilles, on the Quirinal Hill; and the inscription on it
     informs us, that the erection of it was paid for by the
     ladies of England, to commemorate the manly energy of the
     Duke of Wellington and his brave companions in arms. To
     call it, therefore, the 'Ladies' Man,' is merely out of
     compliment to such as patronised the undertaking; and here
     we wish it to be particularly understood that we do not
     sanction the word naked as a correct term (although that
     term is universally applied to it), inasmuch as this statue
     is not naked, the modest artist having, at the suggestion of
     these modest ladies, taken the precaution of giving Achilles
     a covering, similar to that which Adam and Eve wore on their
     expulsion from Eden.

     2 The attitude of the statue is so questionable as to have
     already raised many opposite hypotheses as to what it is
     really intended to represent. Mr. Ex-Sheriff Parkins has,
     with very laudable ingenuity and classical taste,
     discovered that the figure is nothing more nor less than a
     syce, or running groom; just such a one, the worthy ex-
     sheriff adds, as used to accompany him in India, when
     engaged in a hunting party, and who, when he grew tired,
     used to lay hold of the ex-sheriff's horse's tail, in order
     to keep up with his master. The author of the Travestie,
     however, has hit upon another solution of the attitude,
     still more novel, and equally probable, namely, that of
     dancing, for which he expects to gain no inconsiderable
     share of popularity.

     3 Without a shirt or Highland skirt!&mdash;It is really
     entertaining to see what a refinement of criticism has been
     displayed upon the defects of this incomparable statue. Some
     have abused the hero for being shirtless, and said it was an
     abomination to think that a statue in a state of nudity
     (much larger than life, too!) should be stuck up in Hyde
     Park, where every lady's eye must glance, however repugnant
     it might be to their ideas of modesty. But did not the
     ladies themselves order and pay for the said statue? Is it
     not an emblem of their own pure taste?   Then, as for
     putting on Achilles a kelt or short petticoat (called by the
     poet a Highland skirt), oh, shocking I it is not only
     unclassical, but it would have destroyed the effect of the
     thing altogether. To be sure, it would not be the first time
     that Achilles wore a petticoat, for, if we are rightly
     informed, his mother, Thetis, disguised him in female
     apparel, and hid him among the maidens at the court of
     Lycomedes, iu order to prevent his going to the siege of
     Troy; but that wicked wag, Ulysses, calling on the said
     maidens to pay his respects, discovered Mister Achilles
     among them, and made him join his regiment.

          Each widow's heart is throbbing,
          Each married lady sobbing,
          While little miss
          Would fain a kiss
          Be from Achilles robbing!'
          Then, oh, the sight entrancing,
          To see Achilles dancing,
          Without a shirt
          Or Highland skirt,
          Where ladies' eyes are glancing.

          Oh, 'tis not helm or feather,
          Or breeches made of leather,
          That gave delight,
          By day or night,
          Or draw fair crowds together.{2}
          Let those wear clothes who need e'm;
          Adorn but max with freedom,{3}
          Then, light or dark,
          They'll range the Park,
          And follow where you lead 'em.
          For, oh, the sight's entrancing,
          To see Achilles dancing,
          Without a shirt
          Or Highland skirt,
          Where ladies' eyes are glancing.
</pre>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 If we could only insert one hundredth part of what has
     been said by widows, wives, and maids on this interesting
     subject during the present week, we are quite sure our
     readers would acquit us of having overcharged the picture,
     or even faintly delineated it.

     2 We certainly must differ with the author here: in our
     humble opinion, helmets, feathers, leather breeches, &amp;c.
     have a wonderful effect in drawing crowds of the fair sex
     together&mdash;at a grand review, for instance.

     3 This line, it is hoped, will be understood literally. The
     words are T. Moore's, and breathe the spirit of liberty&mdash;not
     licentiousness.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[352]</span> Having succeeded in their object,
      Dashall and his Cousin pursued their course homeward; and thus terminated
      another day spent in the developement of Real Life in the British
      Metropolis.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          But still the muse beseeches
          If this epistle reaches
          Achilles bold,
          In winter cold,
          That he would wear his breeches:{1}
          For though in sultry weather,
          He needs not cloth nor leather,
          Yet frosts may mar
          What's safe in war,{2]
          And ruin all together.

          But still the sight's entrancing,
          To see Achilles dancing
          Without a shirt
          Or Highland skirt,
          Where ladies' eyes are glancing.

     1 The last verse must be allowed to be truly considerate,
     nay, kind&mdash;that the ladies will be equally kind and
     considerate to poor Achilles as the poet is, must be the
     wish of every one who has witnessed the perilous situation
     in which he is placed.

     2 Achilles was a great favourite with the ladies from his
     very birth. He was a fine strapping boy; and his mother was
     so proud of him, that she readily encountered the danger of
     being drowned in the river Styx herself, that she might dip
     her darling in it, and thereby render him invulnerable.
     Accordingly, every part of the hero was safe, except his
     heel by which his mother held him amidst the heat of
     battle; and, like his renowned antitype, the immortal Duke
     of Wellington, he was never wounded. But, at length, when
     Achilles was in the Temple, treating about his marriage with
     Philoxena, daughter of Priam, the brother of Hector let fly
     an arrow at his vulnerable heel, and did his business in a
     twinkling.
</pre>
    <p>
      We cannot quit this subject without paying a compliment to the virtues of
      the Court. We understand there has not been one royal carriage seen in the
      Park since the erection of the statue; and if report speaks true, the
      Marchioness of C&mdash;&mdash;-m's delicacy is so shocked, that she
      intends to quit Hamilton Place, which is close by, as early as a more
      modest site can be chosen!
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0011" id="link42HCH0011">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Lack a day! what a gay
          What a wonderful great town!
          In each street, thousands meet,
          All parading up and down.
          Crossing&mdash;jostling&mdash;strutting&mdash;running,
          Hither&mdash;thither&mdash;going&mdash;coming;
          Hurry&mdash;scurry&mdash;pushing&mdash;driving,
          Ever something new contriving.
          Oh! what a place, what a strange London Town,
          On every side, both far and wide, we hear of its renown.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[353]</span> Escorting to the ever-varying promenade
      of fashion, the Hon. Tom Dashall and his Cousin Bob, whose long protracted
      investigation of Life in London was now drawing to a close, proceeded this
      morning to amuse themselves with another lounge in Bond-street: this
      arcadia of dignified equality was thronged, the carriage-way with dashing
      equipages, and the pave with exquisite pedestrians. Here was one rouged
      and whiskered; there another in petticoats and stays, while his sister,
      like an Amazon, shewed her nether garments half way to the knee. Then
      "passed smiling by" a Corinthian bear, in an upper benjamin and a Jolliffe
      shallow. A noted milliner shone in a richer pelisse than the Countess,
      whom the day before she had cheated out of the lace which adorned it. The
      gentleman with the day-rule, in new buckskins and boots, and mounted on a
      thorough-bred horse, quizzed his retaining creditor, as he trotted along
      with dusty shoes and coat; the "lady of easy virtue" stared her keeper's
      wife and daughter out of countenance. The man milliner's shop-boy, <i>en
      passant</i>, jogged the duke's elbow; and the dandy pickpocket lisped and
      minced his words quite as well as my lord.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom pointed out some of the more dashing exhibitants; and Bob inquiring
      the name of a fine woman, rather <i>en bon point</i>, with a French face,
      who was mounted on a chesnut hunter, and whom he had never before seen in
      the haunts <span class="pagenum">[354]</span> of fashion&mdash;"That
      lady," said he, "goes by the name of <i>Speculator</i>; her real name is
      Mademoiselle Leverd, of the Theatre Français at Paris: she arrived in this
      country a month since, to "have an opportunity of displaying her superior
      talents; though it is whispered that the object of her journey was not
      altogether in the pursuit of her profession, but for the purpose of making
      an important conquest."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And who is that charming woman," continued Bob, "in the curricle next to
      L&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d F&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," returned Tom, "is Mrs. Orbery Hunter. The beautiful man next you,
      is the "commercial dandy," or as Lord G&mdash;&mdash;l styles him, Apollo;
      and his Lordship is a veracious man, on which account R&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;
      calls G&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; his lyre."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ah, do you see that dashing fellow in the Scotch cloak, attended by a lad
      with his arm in a sling? That is the famous Sir W. M&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;,who
      doubles his income by gambling speculations; and that's one of his decoys,
      to entrap young country squires of fortune to dine with him, and be
      fleeced. In return, he is to marry him (on condition of receiving £100.
      for every thousand) to an heiress, the daughter of his country banker."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, all the first whips in the female world are abroad to-day. There is
      the flower of green Erin, Lady Foley. See with what style she fingers the
      ribbans. Equally dexterous at the use of whip and tongue; woe to the wight
      who incurs the lash of either.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That reverend divine in the span new dennet and the Jolliffe shallow, who
      squares his elbows so knowingly, as he rubs on his bit of blood, is Parson
      A&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;. He is the proprietor of the temple of gaming
      iniquity, at No. 6, Pall Mall. He is a natural son of Lord B&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;re,
      by whom he was brought up, liberally educated, and presented with church
      preferments of considerable value. He married, in early life, the
      celebrated singer, Miss M&mdash;h&mdash;n, whom he abandoned, with his
      infant family. This lady found a protector for herself and children in the
      person of the Rev. Mr. P&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;s, and having since obtained
      a divorce from her former husband, has been married to him. The parson
      boasts of his numerous amours, and, a few years since, took the benefit of
      the act. Before he ventured upon the splendid speculations at the Gothic
      Hall, with F&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;r T&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;n, Mr. Charles S&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;,
      and Lord D&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;, he used to frequent the most notorious g&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;g
      houses, <span class="pagenum">[355]</span> occasionally picking up a half
      crown as the pigeons were knocked down by the more wealthy players. But,
      chousing his colleagues out of their shares, and getting the Gothic Hall
      into his own hands, he has become the great man you see, and may truly be
      called by the title of autocrat of all the Greeks.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And who," inquired Bob, "is that gay careless young fellow in the
      Stanhope, who sits so easy while his horse plunges?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," replied Tom, "is the Hon. and Rev. Fitz S&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;,
      with the best heart, best hand, and the best leg in Bond-street. He is
      really one of the most fascinating men in polished society, and withal,
      the best judge of a horse at Tattersalls, of a dennet at Long Acre, or a
      segar in Maiden Lane."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You need not tell me who that is on the roan horse, with red whiskers and
      florid complexion. (The Earl of Y&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;, of course). Madame
      B. tells a curious story of him and a filly belonging to Prince Paul. His
      Lordship had a great desire to ride the said filly, and sent Madam B. to
      know the terms. 'Well!' said his Lordship, when she returned&mdash;'Fifty
      pounds,' she replied.&mdash;'Hem!' said his lordship, 'I will wait till
      next year, and can have her for five-and-twenty.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "By this hand, another female equestrian <i>de figure</i>.' That tall
      young woman on the chesnut, is Lady Jane P&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;, sister of
      Lord U&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;. They say, that she has manifested certain
      pawnbroking inclinations, and has shewn a partiality in partnership at
      Almack's, to the golden balls. "That fine young woman, leaning out of the
      carriage window, whose glossy ringlets are of the true golden colour, so
      much admired by the dandies of old Rome, is his Lordship's wife. He's not
      with her. But you know he shot Honey at Cumberland Gate, when he was two
      hundred miles off, and therefore he may be in the carriage, though he's
      away.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The person in the shabby brown coat is the Duke of Argyle. The pair of
      horses that draw his carriage is the only job that Argyle ever
      condescended to engage in."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And who is that fat ruddy gentleman, in the plain green coat, and the
      groom in grey?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[356]</span> "What, you're not up to the change of
      colour? That's our old friend the Duke again, and the grey livery augurs,
      (if I mistake not), a visit to Berkeley square. His R&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;
      H&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; must take good care, or that bit of blood will be
      seized while standing at the door of the Circe, as his carriage was the
      other day, by the unceremonious nabman. But that's nothing to what used to
      occur to the Marquis of W&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;. They say, that if he
      deposited a broach, a ring, or a watch upon his table, a hand and arm,
      like that of a genius in a fairy tale, was seen to introduce itself <i>bon-gre,
      mal-gre</i>, through the casement, and instantly they became 'scarce.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "But I have heard," said Bob, "of a fashionable nabman asking the Duke the
      time, and politely claiming the watch as soon as it was visible."
    </p>
    <p>
      The most prominent characters of the lounge had now disappeared, and Tom
      and Bob pursuing their course, found themselves in a few minutes in Covent
      Garden, from whence, nothing occurring of notice, they directed their
      steps towards Bow-street, with the view of deriving amusement from the
      proceedings of justice in the principal office on the establishment of the
      metropolitan police, and in this anticipation they were not
      disappointed.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 More Life in St. Giles's.&mdash;Mr. Daniel Sullivan, of
     Tottenham Court Road, green-grocer, fruiterer, coal and
     potatoe merchant, salt lish and Irish pork-monger, was
     brought before the magistrate on a peace-warrant, issued at
     the suit of his wife, Mrs. Mary Sullivan. Mrs. Sullivan is
     an Englishwoman, who married Mr. Sullivan for love, and has
     been "blessed with many children by him." But
     notwithstanding she appeared before the magistrate with her
     face all scratched and bruised, from the eyes downward to
     the tip of her chin; all which scratches and bruises, she
     said, were the handy-work of her husband.

     The unfortunate Mary, it appeared, married Mr. Sullivau
     about seven years ago; at which time he was as polite a
     young Irishman as ever handled a potatoe on this side the
     Channel; he had every thing snug and comfortable about him,
     and his purse and his person, taken together, were
     "ondeniable." She herself was a young woman genteely brought
     up&mdash;abounding in friends and acquaintance, and silk gowns,
     with three good bonnets always in use, and black velvet
     shoes to correspond. Welcome wherever she went, whether to
     dinner, tea, or supper, and made much of by every body. St.
     Giles' bells rang merrily at their wedding&mdash;a fine fat leg
     of mutton and capers, plenty of pickled salmon, three ample
     dishes of salt fish and potatoes, with pies, pudding and
     porter of the best, were set forth for the bridal supper;
     all the most "considerablest" families in Dyott Street and
     Church Lane, were invited, and every thing promised a world
     of happiness&mdash;and for five long years they were happy. She
     loved, as Lord Byron would say, "she loved and was beloved;
     she adored and she was worshipped;" but Mr. Sullivau was too
     much like the hero of the Lordship's tale&mdash;his affections
     could not "hold the bent," and the sixth year had scarcely
     commenced, when poor Mary discovered that she had "outlived
     his liking." From that time to the present he had treated
     her continually with the greatest cruelty; and, at last,
     when by this means he had reduced her from a comely young
     person to a mere handful of a poor creature, he beat her,
     and turned her out of doors.

     This was Mrs. Sullivan's story; and she told it with such
     pathos, that all who heard it pitied her, except her
     husband.

     It was now Mr. Sullivan's turn to speak. Whilst his wife was
     speaking, he had stood with his back towards her, his arms
     folded across his breast to keep down his choler; biting his
     lips and staring at the blank wall; but the moment she had
     ceased, he abruptly turned round, and, curiously enough,
     asked the magistrate whether Mistress Sullivau had done
     spaking.

     "She has," replied his worship; "but suppose you ask her
     whether she has any thing more to say."

     "I shall, Sir!" exclaimed the angry Mr. Sullivan. "Mistress
     Sullivan, had you any more of it to say '!"

     Mrs. Sullivan raised her eyes to the ceiling, clasped her
     hands together, and was silent.

     "Very well, then," he continued, "will I get lave to spake,
     your Honour?"

     His Honour nodded permission, and Mr. Sullivan immediately
     began a defence, to which it is impossible to do justice; so
     exuberantly did he suit the action to the word, and the
     word to the action. "Och! your Honour, there is something
     the matter with me!" he began; at the same time putting two
     of his fingers perpendicularly over his forehead, to
     intimate that Mrs. Sullivan played him false. He then went
     into a long story about a "Misther Burke," who lodged in his
     house, and had taken the liberty of assisting him in his
     conjugal duties, "without any lave from him at all at all."
     It was one night in partickler, he said, that he went to bed
     betimes in the little back parlour, quite entirely sick with
     the head-ache. Misther Burke was out from home, and when the
     shop was shut up, Mrs. Sullivan went out too; but he didn't
     much care for that, ounly he thought she might as well have
     staid at home, and so he couldn't go to sleep for thinking
     of it. "Well, at one o'clock in the morning," he continued,
     lower-ing his voice into a sort of loud whisper; "at one
     o'clock in the morn-ing Misther Burke lets himself in with
     the key that he had, and goes up to bed&mdash;and I thought
     nothing at all; but presently I hears something come tap,
     tap, tap, at the street door. The minute after comes down
     Misther Burke, and opens the door, and sure it was Mary&mdash;
     Mistress Sullivan that is, more's the pity&mdash;and devil a bit
     she came to see after me at all in the little back parlour,
     but up stairs she goes after Misther Burke. Och! says 1, but
     there's some-thing the matter with me this night! and I got
     up with the night-cap o' th' head of me, and went into the
     shop to see for a knife, but I couldn't get one by no manes.
     So I creeps up stairs, step by step, step by step," (here
     Mr. Sullivan walked on tiptoe all across the office, to show
     the magistrate how quietly he went up the stairs), "and when
     I gets to the top I sees 'em, by the gash (gas) coming
     through the chink in the window curtains; I sees 'em, and
     'Och, Mistress Sullivan!' says he: and 'Och, Misther Burke,'
     says she:&mdash;and och! botheration, says I to myself, and what
     shall I do now?" We cannot follow Mr. Sullivan any farther
     in the detail of his melancholy affair; it is sufficient
     that he saw enough to convince him that he was dishonoured:
     that, by some accident or other, he disturbed the guilty
     pair, whereupon Mrs. Sullivan crept under Mr. Burke's bed,
     to hide herself; that Mr. Sullivan rushed into the room, and
     dragged her from under the bed, by her "wicked leg;" and
     that he felt about the round table in the corner, where Mr.
     Burke kept his bread and cheese, in the hope of finding a
     knife.

     "And what would you have done with it, if you had found it?"
     asked his worship.

     "Is it what I would have done with it, your honour asks?"
     exclaimed Mr. Sullivan, almost choked with rage&mdash;"Is it what
     I would have done with it?&mdash;ounly that I'd have digged it
     into the heart of 'em at the same time!" As he said this, he
     threw himself into an attitude of wild desperation, and made
     a tremendous lunge, as if in the very act of slaughter.

     To make short of a long story, he did not find the knife;
     Mr. Burke barricadoed himself in his room, and Mr. Sullivan
     turned his wife out of doors.

     The magistrate ordered him to find bail to keep the peace
     towards his wife and all the King's subjects, and told him,
     that if his wife was indeed what he had represented her to
     be, he must seek some less violent mode of separation than
     the knife.

     There not being any other case of interest, Tom and Bob left
     the office, not, however, without a feeling of commiseration
     for Mr. Sullivan, whose frail rib and her companion in
     iniquity, now that the tables were turned against them by
     the injured husband's "plain unvarnished tale," experienced
     a due share of reprobation from the auditory.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[558]</span> Pursuing their course homeward through
      St. James'-square: "Who have we here?" exclaimed Tom; "as I live, no other
      than the lofty Honoria, an authoress, a wit and an eccentric; a
      combination of qualities which frequently contribute to convey the
      possessor to a garret, and thence to an hospital or poor house. It is not
      uncommon to find attic salt in the first floor from heaven, but rather
      difficult to find the occupier enabled to procure salt whereby to render
      porridge palateable. The lady Honoria, who has just passed, resides in a
      lodging in Mary-le-bone. She having mistaken stature for beauty, and
      attitude for greatness, a tune on her lute for fascination, a few strange
      opinions and out of the way sayings for genius, a masculine appearance for
      attraction, and bulk for irresistibility, came on a cruise to London with
      a view to call at C&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;House, where she conceived she
      might be treated like a Princess.
    </p>
    <p>
      "She fondly fancied that a certain dignified personage who relieved her
      distress, could not but be captivated with the very description of her; in
      consequence of which, she launched into expenses which she was but ill
      able to bear, and now complains of designs formed against her and of all
      sorts of fabulous nonsense. It must, however, be acknowledged, that an
      extraordinary taste for fat, has been a great som-ce of inconvenience to
      the illustrious character alluded to, for corpulent women have been in the
      habit of daily throwing themselves in his way under some pretence or
      other; and if he but looked at them, they have considered themselves as
      favourites, and in the high road to riches and fame.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is well known that a certain French woman, with long flowing black
      hair, who lived not an hundred miles from Pimlico, was one who fell into
      this error. Her weight is about sixteen stone&mdash;and on that account
      she sets herself down as this illustrious person's mistress; nay, because
      he saw her once, she took expensive lodgings, ran deeply in debt, and now
      abuses the great man because he has not provided for her in a princely
      style, "<i>pour se beaux yeux</i>;" for it must be admitted, that she can
      boast as fine a pair of black eyes as ever were seen. The circumstance of
      this taste for materialism, is as unfortunate to the possessor, as a
      convulsive nod of the head once was to a rich gentleman, who was never
      without being engaged in some law suit or other, for lots knocked down to
      him at auctions, owing to his incessant and involuntary noddings at these
      places. The fat ladies wish the illustrious amateur to pay for peeping,
      just as the crafty knights of the hammer endeavoured to make the rich
      gentleman pay for his nodding at them."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Fat, fair, and forty, then," said Sparkle, "does not appear to be
      forgotten."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[360]</span> "No," was the reply, "nor is it likely:
      the wits of London are seldom idle upon subjects of importance: take for
      instance the following lines:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "When first I met thee, FAT and fair,
          With forty charms about thee,
          A widow brisk and <i>debonair</i>,
          How could I live without thee.

          Thy rogueish eye I quickly spied,
          It made me still the fonder,
          I swore though false to all beside,
          From thee I'd never wander.

          But old Fitzy now,
          Thou'rt only fit to tease me,
          And C&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;M I vow,
          Has learn't the art to please me."
</pre>
    <p>
      By this time they were passing Grosvenor gate, when the Hon. Tom Dashall
      directed the attention of his Cousin to a person on the opposite side of
      the street, pacing along with a stiff and formal air.
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," said he, "is a new species of character, if it may properly be so
      termed, of which I have never yet given you any account. Sir Edward
      Knowell stands, however, at the head of a numerous and respectable class
      of persons, who may be entitled Philosophic Coxcombs. He proceeds with
      geometrical exactness in all his transactions. You can perceive finery of
      dress is no mark of his character; on the contrary, he at all times wears
      a plain coat; and as if in ridicule of the common fop, takes care to
      decorate his menials in the most gorgeous liveries.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The stiffness and formality of his appearance is partly occasioned by the
      braces which he very judiciously purchased of Martin Van Butchell, and
      partly by the pride of wealth and rank.
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is a pensiveness in his aspect, which would induce any one to
      imagine Sir Edward to be a man of feeling; but those who have depended
      upon outward appearances alone, have found themselves miserably deceived;
      for as hypocrisy assumes a look of sanctity, so your philosophic coxcomb's
      apparent melancholy serves only as a mask to cover his stupidity.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Sir Edward is amorously inclined; but he consults his reason, or pretends
      to do so, and by that means renders his pleasures subservient to his
      health. It cannot be denied he sometimes manifests contortions of aspect
      not exactly in unison with happiness; but his feelings are ever selfish,
      and his apparent pain is occasioned by the nausea of a debauch, or perhaps
      by the pressure of a new pair of boots. If you are in distress, Sir Edward
      hears your tale with the most stoical indifference, and he contemplates
      your happiness with an equal degree of apathy&mdash;a sort of Epictetus,
      who can witness the miseries of a brother without agony or sympathy, and
      mark the elevation of a friend without one sentiment of congratulation:
      wrapt up in self, he banishes all feeling for others.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[361]</span> "This philosopher has a great number of
      imitators&mdash;perhaps not less than one thousand philosophic coxcombs
      visit London annually; and if Sir Edward were to die, they might all with
      great propriety lay claim to a participation in the property he might
      leave behind him, as near relations to the family of the Knowells. These
      gentlemen violate all the moral duties of life with impunity: they are
      shameless, irreligious, and so insignificant, that they seem to consider
      themselves born for no useful purpose whatever. Indeed they are such
      perfect blanks in the creation, that were they transported to some other
      place, the community would never miss them, except by the diminution of
      follies and vices. Like poisonous plants, they merely vegetate, diffuse
      their contagious effluvia around, then sink into corruption, and are
      forgotten for ever."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Whip me such fellows through the world," exclaimed Sparkle, "I have no
      relish for them."
    </p>
    <p>
      On calling in at Long's Hotel, they were informed that Sparkle's servant
      had been in pursuit of his master, in consequence of letters having
      arrived from the country; and as Dashall knew that he had two excellent
      reasons why he should immediately acquaint himself with their contents,
      the party immediately returned to Piccadilly.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0012" id="link42HCH0012">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXVI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "&mdash;&mdash;-Mark the change at very first vacation,
          She's scarcely known to father or relation.
          No longer now in vesture neat and tight,
          Because forsooth she's learn'd to be polite.
          But crop't&mdash;a bosom bare, her charms explode,
          Her shape, the <i>tout ensemble a-la-mode</i>.
          Why Bet, cries Pa, what's come to thee of late?
          This school has turn'd thy brain as sure as fate.
          What means these vulgar ways?   I hate 'em wench,
          You shan't, I tell thee, imitate the French;
          Because great vokes adopt a foreign taste,
          And wear their bosoms naked to the waist,
          D'ye think you shall&mdash;No, no, I loathe such ways,
          Mercy! great nokes shew all for nothing now adays."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[362]</span> The morning arose with smiles and
      sunshine, which appeared almost to invite our party earlier than they
      intended to the enjoyments of a plan which had occupied their attention on
      the previous evening, when Sparkle proposed a ride, which being consented
      to, the horses were prepared, and they were quickly on the road.
    </p>
    <p>
      Passing through Somers Town, Sparkle remarked to his friend Dashall, that
      he could not help thinking that the manners and information of the rising
      generation ought to be greatly improved.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And have you not had sufficient evidence of the fact?" was the reply.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why certainly," continued Sparkle, "if the increase of public schools
      round the metropolis is in proportion to what has already met my eye
      during our present short ride, there is sufficient evidence that education
      is considered as it ought to be, of the first importance. Yet I question
      whether we are so much more learned than our ancestors, as to require such
      a vast increase of teachers. Nay, is not the market overstocked with these
      heads of seminaries, similar to the republic of letters, which is
      overwhelmed with authors, and clogged with bookmakers and books."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[363]</span> "This remark," replied Tom, "might
      almost as well be made upon every trade and profession which is followed;
      in the present day there are so many in each, that a livelihood can
      scarcely be obtained, and a universal grumbling is the consequence."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," said Bob, "I can with safety say there are but two trades or
      callings that I have met with since my arrival in London, to which I have
      discovered no rivalship."
    </p>
    <p>
      This remark from Tallyho excited some surprise in the mind of his two
      friends, who were anxious to know to what he alluded.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I mean," continued he, "the doll's bedstead seller, who is frequently to
      be heard in the street of London, bawling with a peculiarity of voice as
      singular as the article he has for sale,&mdash;'Buy my doll's bedsteads;'&mdash;and
      the other, a well known whistler, whom you must both have heard."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Egad you are right," replied Sparkle; "and although I recollect them
      both, I must confess the observation now made has never so forcibly struck
      me before: it, however, proves you have not exhausted your time in town
      without paying attention to the characters it contains, nor the
      circumstances by which they obtain their livelihood; and although the
      introduction is not exactly in point with the subject of previous remarks,
      and ought not to cut the thread of our discourse, it has some reference,
      and conveys to my mind a novel piece of information. But I was about to
      consider what can be the causes for this extraordinary host of ladies of
      all ages, classes and colours, from the Honourable Mistress&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;to
      the Misses Stubbs, who have their establishment for the education of young
      ladies in a superior style; and whether in consequence of this legion of
      fair labourers in learning and science, our countrywomen (for I am
      adverting particularly to the softer sex) are chaster, wiser, and better,
      than their mammas and grand-mammas."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A most interesting subject, truly," replied Tom, "and well worthy of
      close investigation. Now for my part I apprehend that the increase of
      tutors arises from many other causes than the more general diffusion of
      knowledge."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[364]</span> "There can be no doubt of it,"
      continued Sparkle, "and some of those causes are odd enough&mdash;very
      opposite to wisdom, and not more conducive to improvement; for amongst
      them you will find pride, poverty, and idleness.
    </p>
    <p>
      "For instance, you may discover that the proud partner of a shopkeeper in
      the general line, or more plainly speaking, the proprietor of a chandler's
      shop, is ambitious of having her daughter accomplished.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
         "E'en good Geoffrey Forge, a blacksmith by descent,
         Who has his life 'midst bars and hammers spent,
         Resolves his Bet shall learn to read and write,
         And grace his table with a wit polite.
         To make for father's sense a reparation&mdash;
         The day arrives for fatal separation;
         When Betsey quits her dad with tears of woe,
         And goes to boarding-school&mdash;at Pimlico."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Well, the accomplishments sought are music, dancing, French, and
      ornamental work; instead of learning the Bible, being brought up to
      domestic utility, cooking, washing, plain work, and the arithmetic
      necessary for keeping the accounts of her father's shop. What is the
      consequence?&mdash;the change in her education quite unfits Miss for her
      station in life; makes her look down on her unlettered Pa&mdash;and Ma&mdash;as
      persons too ignorant for her to associate with; while she is looking up
      with anxious expectation to marry a man of fortune (probably an officer);
      and is not unfrequently taken unceremoniously without the consent of her
      parents on a visit to the church.''
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are pushing the matter as close as you can, Charles," said Dashall;
      "though I confess I think, nay I may say indeed I know some instances in
      which such fatal consequences have been the result of the conduct to which
      you allude."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, then, suppose even that this superior style of education should not
      have the effect of turning the poor girl's head, and that she really has
      prudence and discretion enough to avoid the perils and snares of ambition;
      Miss Celestina is at least unfitted for a tradesman's wife, and she must
      either become a companion, or a governess, or a teacher at a school, or be
      set up as the Minerva of an evening school&mdash;half educated herself,
      and exposed in every situation for which she is conceived to be fitted, to
      numerous temptations, betwixt the teachers of waltzes and quadrilles&mdash;the
      one horse chaise dancing-masters&mdash;the lax-moraled foreign
      music-master&mdash;or the dashing Pa&mdash;of her young pupils (perhaps a
      Peer). Celibacy is not always so much an affair of choice as of
      circumstances, and sad difficulties are consequently thrown in the way of
      poor Miss So and So's path through life&mdash;all originating from pride."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[365]</span> "Well," said Bob, "since you have been
      amusing us with this description, I have counted not less than eight
      seminaries, establishments, and preparatory schools."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I do not doubt it," continued Sparkle; "and some of them on the meanest
      scale, notwithstanding the high sounding titles under which they are
      introduced to public notice: others presided over by sister spinsters, not
      unfrequently with Frenchified names; such, for instance, as 'Mesdames
      Puerdon's Seminary,' the lady's real name being Martha (or, if you please,
      Patty) Purton, and a deformed relative completing the Mesdames: the
      'Misses de la Porte,' (whom nature had made simple Porter), and no great
      catch to obtain either: the 'Misses Cox's preparatory school for young
      gentlemen of an early age,' all seem to bespeak the poverty, false pride,
      and affectation of the owners. Notwithstanding the fine denominations
      given to some of these learned institutions, such as 'Bellevue Seminary'&mdash;'Montpeliere
      House'&mdash;'Bel Retiro Boarding School,' &amp;c. &amp;c.
    </p>
    <p>
      "To such artifices as these are two classes of females compelled to
      resort, namely, reduced gentlewomen and exalted tradesmen's daughters, who
      disdain commerce, and hate the homely station which dame nature had
      originally intended them to move in. Such ladies (either by birth or
      adoption) prefer the twig to the distaff, the study to the shop, and
      experience more pleasure in walking out airing with their pupils, taking
      their station in the front, frequently gaudily and indiscreetly dressed,
      than to be confined to the counter, or the domestic occupations of the
      good old English housewife of former times.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Such ladies are frequently to be met with on all the Greens and Commons,
      from dirty Stepney or Bethnal, to the more sumptuous Clapham or Willisdon.
      Some of them are so occupied with self, that the random-shot glances of
      their pupils at the exquisites and the dandy militaires about town, do not
      come within the range of their notice, while others are more vigilant, but
      often heave a sigh at the thought that the gay and gallant Captain should
      prefer the ruddy daughter of a cheese-monger, to the reduced sprigs of
      gentility which they consider themselves.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[366]</span> "At all events, many of these
      ladies,and worthy ones too, are placed, <i>par force</i> of poverty, in
      this avocation, unsuited to their abilities, their hearts, their habits,
      or their former expectations. The government of their young flock is
      odious to them, and although they may go through the duties of their
      situation with apparent patience, it is in fact a drudgery almost
      insupportable; and the objects nearest the governess's heart&mdash;are the
      arrival of the vacation, the entrance-money, the quarter's schooling, and
      a lengthy list of items: the arrival of Black Monday, or a cessation of
      holidays, brings depressed spirits, and she returns to her occupation,
      deploring her unlucky stars which placed her in so laborious a situation&mdash;envies
      her cousin Sarah, who has caught a minor in her net; nay even perhaps
      would be happy to exchange circumstances with the thoughtless Miss
      Skipwell, who has run away with her dancing-master, or ruined a young
      clergyman, of a serious turn, by addressing love-letters to him, copied
      from the most romantic novels, which have softened his heart into
      matrimony, and made genteel beggars of the reverend mistress, himself, and
      a numerous offspring."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Very agreeable, indeed," cried Dashall.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Perhaps not," said Tallyho, interrupting him, "to the parties described."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You mistake me," was the reply; "I meant the combination of air and
      exercise with the excellent descriptions of our friend Sparkle, who by the
      way has not yet done with the subject."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am aware of it," continued Sparkle, "for there is one part which I
      mentioned at the outset, which may with great propriety be added in the
      way of elucidation&mdash;I mean Idleness: it is the third, and shall for
      the present be the last subject of our consideration, and even this has
      contributed its fair proportion of teachers to the world. Miss Mel ta way,
      the daughter of a tallow-chandler, who ruined himself by dressing
      extravagantly his wife, and over educating his dear Caroline Matilda, in
      consequence of which he failed, and shortly afterwards left the world
      altogether,&mdash;was brought up in the straw line; but this was no solid
      trade, and could not be relied upon: however, she plays upon the harp and
      the guitar. What advantages! yet she also failed in the straw-hat line,
      and therefore Idleness prefers becoming an assistant teacher and music
      mistress, to taking to any more laborious, even though more productive
      mode of obtaining a livelihood.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[367]</span> "Then Miss Nugent has a few hundred
      pounds, the remnant of Pa's gleanings (Pa having been the retired butler
      of a Pigeoned Peer.) A retail bookseller sought her hand in marriage, but
      she thought him quite a vulgar fellow. He had no taste for waltzing, at
      which she was considered to excel&mdash;he blamed her indulgence in such
      pleasures, and ventured to hint something about a pudding. Then again, he
      can't speak French, and dresses in dittoes. Now all this is really
      barbarous, and consequently Miss Nugent spurns the idea of such a
      connection.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Let us trace her still further. In a short time she is addressed by a
      Captain Kirkpatrick Tyrconnel, who makes his approaches with a splendid
      equipage. The romantic sound of the former, and the glare of the latter,
      attract her attention. The title of Captain, however, is merely a <i>nom
      de guerre</i>, for he is only an ensign on half-pay. Miss is delighted
      with his attentions: he is a charming fellow, highly accomplished, for he
      sings duets, waltzes admirably, plays the German flute, and interlards his
      conversation with scraps of French and Spanish. Altogether he is truly
      irresistible, and she is willing to lay her person and her few hundreds at
      the feet of the conquerer. The day is appointed, and every preparation
      made for the nuptial ceremony; when ah! who can foresee,
    </p>
    <p>
      "The various turns of fate below."
    </p>
    <p>
      An athletic Hibernian wife, formerly the widow of Dennis O'Drumball, steps
      in between the young lady and the hymeneal altar, and claims the Captain
      as her husband&mdash;she being the landlady of a country ale-house where
      he had been quartered, whom he had married by way of discharging his bill.
      The interposition is fortunate, because it saves the Captain from an
      involuntary trip to Botany Bay, and Miss from an alliance of a bigamical
      kind; though it has at the same time proved a severe disappointment to the
      young lady.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Crossed in love&mdash;wounded in the most tender part&mdash;she forswears
      the hymeneal tie; and under such unfortunate circumstances she opens a
      Seminary, to which she devotes the remainder of her life."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[368]</span> "Pray," said Bob, whose eyes were as
      open as his ears, "did you notice that shining black board, with
      preposterous large gold letters, announcing 'Miss Smallgood's
      establishment for Young Ladies,' and close alongside of it another,
      informing the passenger,&mdash;' That man-traps were placed in the
      premises.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I did," said Sparkle&mdash;"but I do not think that, though somewhat
      curious, the most remarkable or strange association. Young ladies educated
      on an improved plan, and man-traps advertised in order to create terror
      and dismay! For connected with this method of announcing places of
      education, is a recollection of receptacles of another nature."
    </p>
    <p>
      "To what do you allude?" inquired Tallyho. "Why, in many instances,
      private mad-houses are disguised as boarding schools, under the
      designation of 'Establishment.' Many of these receptacles in the vicinity
      of the metropolis, are rendered subservient to the very worst of purposes,
      though originally intended for the safety of the individual, as well as
      the security of the public against the commission of acts, which are too
      frequently to be deplored as the effect of insanity. Of all the houses of
      mourning, that to which poor unhappy mortals are sent under mental
      derangement is decidedly the most gloomy. The idea strikes the imagination
      with horror, which is considerably increased by a reflection on the
      numerous human victims that are incarcerated within their walls, the
      discipline they are subjected to, and the usual pecuniary success which
      attends the keepers of such establishments,&mdash;where the continuance of
      the patient is the chief source of interest, rather than the recovery.
      That they are useful in some cases cannot be denied, but there are many
      instances too well authenticated to be doubted, where persons desirous of
      getting rid of aged and infirm relatives, particularly if they manifested
      any little aberration of mind (as is common in advanced age), have
      consigned them to these receptacles, from which, through the supposed
      kindness of their friends, and the management of the proprietors, they
      have never returned. If the parties ail nothing, they are soon driven to
      insanity by ill usage, association with unfortunates confined like
      themselves, vexation at the treatment, and absolute despair of escape; or
      if partially or slightly afflicted, the lucid intervals are prevented, and
      the disorder by these means is increased and confirmed by coercion,
      irritation of mind, and despair."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[369]</span> "This is a deplorable picture of the
      state of things, indeed," said Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "But it is unvarnished," was the reply; "the picture requires no imaginary
      embellishment, since it has its foundation in truth. Then again, contrast
      the situation of the confined with the confinera. The relatives have an
      interest in the care of the person, and a control over the property, which
      in cases of death frequently becomes their own. The keepers of these
      receptacles have also an interest in keeping the relatives in a
      disposition to forward all their views of retaining the patient, who,
      under the representation of being seriously deranged, is not believed;
      consequently all is delusion, but the advantages which ultimately fall to
      the tender-hearted relative, or the more artful proprietor of the
      mad-house; and it is wonderful what immense fortunes are made by the
      latter; nay not only by the proprietors, but even the menials in their
      employ, many of whom have been known to retire independent, a circumstance
      which clearly proves, that by some means or other they must have possessed
      themselves of the care of the property, as well as that of the persons of
      their unfortunate victims."
    </p>
    <p>
      "This is a dull subject," said Dashall, "though I confess that some
      exposures which have been made fully justify your observations; but I am
      not fond of looking at such gloomy pictures of Real Life."
    </p>
    <p>
      "True," replied Sparkle; "but it connects itself with the object you have
      had in view; and though I know there are many who possess souls of
      sensibility, and who would shrink from the contemplation of so much
      suffering humanity, it is still desirable they should know the effects
      produced almost by inconceivable causes. I know people in general avoid
      the contemplation, as well as fly from the abodes of misery, contenting
      themselves by sending pecuniary assistance. But unfortunately there are a
      number of things that wear a similarity of appearance, yet are so unlike
      in essence and reality, that they are frequently mistaken by the credulous
      and unwary, who become dupes, merely because they are not eye witnesses of
      the facts. But if the subject is dull, let us push forward, take a gallop
      over Hampstead Heath, and return."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[370]</span> "With all my heart," cried Dashall,
      giving a spur to his horse, and away they went.
    </p>
    <p>
      The day was delightfully fine; the appearance of the country banished all
      gloomy thoughts from their minds; and after a most agreeable ride, they
      returned to Piccadilly, where finding dinner ready, they spent the
      remainder of the evening in the utmost hilarity, and the mutual
      interchange of amusing and interesting conversation, principally relative
      to Sparkle's friends in the country, and their arrangements for the
      remainder of their time during their stay in the metropolis.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0013" id="link42HCH0013">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXVII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "E'en mighty monarchs may at times unbend,
          And sink the dull superior in the friend.
          The jaded scholar his lov'd closet quits,
          To chat with folks below, and save his wits:
          Peeps at the world awhile, with curious look.
          Then flies again with pleasure to his book.
          The tradesman hastes away from Care's rude gripe,
          To meet the neighbouring club and smoke his pipe.
          All this is well, in decent bounds restrained,
          No health is injured, and no mind is pain'd.
          But constant travels in the paths of joy,
          Yield no delights but what in time must cloy;
          Though novelty spread all its charms to view,
          And men with eagerness those charms pursue;
          One truth is clear, that by too frequent use,
          They early death or mis'ry may produce."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[371]</span> THE post of the following morning
      brought information for Dashall and his friends, and no time was lost in
      breaking open the seals of letters which excited the most pleasing
      anticipations. A dead silence prevailed for a few minutes, when, rising
      almost simultaneously, expressions of satisfaction and delight were
      interchanged at the intelligence received.
    </p>
    <p>
      Merry well's success had proved more than commensurate with his most
      sanguine expectations. He had arrived at the residence of his dying
      relative, just time enough to witness his departure from this sublunary
      sphere, and hear him with his expiring breath say,&mdash;"All is thine;"
      and a letter to each of his former friends announced the pleasure and the
      happiness he should experience by an early visit to his estate, declaring
      his determination to settle in the country, and no more become a rambler
      in the labyrinths of London.
    </p>
    <p>
      This was a moment of unexpected, though hoped for gratification. Sparkle
      applauded the plan he intended to pursue.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho confessed himself tired of this world of wonders, and appeared to
      be actuated by a similar feeling: he conceived he had seen enough of the
      Life of a Rover, and seemed to sigh for his native plains again.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[372]</span> Dashall's relish for novelty in London
      was almost subdued; and after comparing notes together for a short time,
      it was mutually agreed that they would dine quietly at home, and digest a
      plan for future proceedings.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never," said Tom, "did I feel so strong an inclination to forego the
      fascinating charms of a London Life as at the present moment; and whether
      I renounce it altogether or not, we will certainly pay a congratulatory
      visit to Merry well."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Example," said Sparkle, endeavouring to encourage the feeling with which
      his friend's last sentiment was expressed, "is at all times better than
      precept; and retirement to domestic felicity is preferable to revelry in
      splendid scenes of dissipation, which generally leads to premature
      dissolution."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Agreed," said Tom; "and happy is the man who, like yourself, has more
      than self to think for.&mdash;Blest with a lovely and amiable wife, and an
      ample fortune, no man upon earth can have a better chance of gliding down
      the stream of life, surrounded by all the enjoyments it can afford&mdash;while
      I&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, what a lost mutton am I!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle could scarcely forbear laughing at his friend, though he was
      unable to discover whether he was speaking seriously or ironically; he
      therefore determined to rally him a little.
    </p>
    <p>
      "How," said he, "why you are growing serious and sentimental all at once:
      what can be the cause of this change of opinion so suddenly?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "My views of life," replied Dashall, "have been sufficient to convince me
      that a Like in London is the high road to Death. I have, however, tried
      its vagaries in all companies, in all quarters; and, as the Song says,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Having sown my wild oats in my youthful days, I wish to live happily now
      they are done."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time Sparkle was convinced that Dashall was speaking the real
      sentiments of his mind, and congratulated him upon them.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[373]</span> Tallyho expressed himself highly
      delighted with the information he had acquired during his stay in London,
      but could not help at the same time acknowledging, that he had no wish to
      continue in the same course much longer: it was therefore agreed, that on
      that day fortnight they would leave the metropolis for the residence of
      Merrywell, and trust the future guidance of their pursuits to chance.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It would argue a want of loyalty," said Tom, "if we did not witness the
      royal departure for Scotland before we quit town; and as that is to take
      place on Saturday next, we will attend the embarkation of his Majesty at
      Greenwich, and then turn our thoughts towards a country life."
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle was evidently gratified by this determination, though he could
      hardly persuade himself it was likely to be of long duration; and Bob
      inwardly rejoiced at the expression of sentiments in exact accordance with
      his own. At a moment when they were all absorbed in thoughts of the
      future, they were suddenly drawn to the present by a man passing the
      window, bawling aloud&mdash;"Buy a Prap&mdash;Buy a Prap."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What does the fellow mean?" interrupted Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mean," said Dashall, "nothing more than to sell his clothes props."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Props," replied Bob, "but he cries praps; I suppose that is a new style
      adopted in London."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not at all," continued Sparkle; "the alteration of sound only arises from
      an habitual carelessness, with which many of what are termed the London
      Cries are given; a sort of tone or jargon which is acquired by continually
      calling the same thing&mdash;and in which you will find he is not
      singular. The venders of milk, for instance, seldom call the article they
      carry for sale, as it is generally sounded <i>mieu</i>, or <i>mieu below</i>,
      though some have recently adopted the practice of crying <i>mieu above</i>.
      The sort of sing-song style which the wandering vendera of different goods
      get into as it were by nature, is frequently so unintelligible, that even
      an old inhabitant of the town and its environs can scarcely ascertain by
      the ear what is meant; and which I apprehend arises more from the sameness
      of subject than from any premeditated intention of the parties so calling.
      Other instances may be given:&mdash;the chimney-sweeper, you will find,
      instead of <span class="pagenum">[374]</span> bawling sweep, frequently
      contracts it to we-ep or e-ep; the former not altogether incompatible with
      the situation of the shivering little being who crawls along the streets
      under a load of soot, to the great annoyance of the well dressed
      passengers; however, it has the effect of warning them of his approach.
      The dustman, above curtailment, as if he felt his superiority over the
      flue-faker, lengthens his sound to dust-ho, or dust-wo; besides, he is
      dignified by carrying a bell in one hand, by which he almost stuns those
      around him, and appears determined to kick up a dust, if he can do nothing
      else. The cries of muffins in the streets it is difficult to understand,
      as they are in the habit of ringing a tinkling bell, the sound of which
      can scarcely be heard, and calling mapping ho; and I remember one man whom
      I have frequently followed, from whom I could never make out more than
      happy happy happy now. There is a man who frequently passes through the
      Strand, wheeling a barrow before him, bawling as he moves along, in a deep
      and sonorous voice, smoaking hot, piping hot, hot Chelsea Buns; and
      another, in the vicinity of Covent Garden, who attracts considerable
      notice by the cry of&mdash;Come buy my live shrimps and pierriwinkles&mdash;buy
      my wink, wink, wink; these, however, are exceptions to those previously
      mentioned, as they have good voices, and deliver themselves to some tune;
      but to the former may be added the itinerant collector of old clothes, who
      continually annoys you with&mdash;Clow; clow sale. The ingenious Ned
      Shuter, the most luxuriant comedian of his time, frequently entertained
      his audience on his benefit nights with admirable imitations of the Cries
      of London, in which he introduced a remarkable little man who sold puffs,
      and who, from the peculiar manner of his calling them, acquired the name
      of Golly Molly Puff; by this singularity he became a noted character, and
      at almost every period some such peculiar itinerant has become remarkable
      in the streets of London. Some years back, a poor wretched being who dealt
      in shreds and patches, used to walk about, inviting people by the
      following lines&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Linen, woollen, and leather,
          Bring 'em out altogether."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[375]</span> Another, a sleek-headed whimsical old
      man, appeared, who was commonly called the Wooden Poet, from his carrying
      wooden ware, which was slung in a basket round his neck, and who chaunted
      a kind of song in doggerel rhyme, somewhat similar to the following&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "Come, come, my worthy soul,
          Will you buy a wooden bowl?
          I am just come from the Borough,
          Will you buy a pudding stirrer.
          I hope I am not too soon,
          For you to buy a wooden spoon.
          I've come quick as I was able,
          Thinking you might want a ladle,
          And if I'm not too late,
          Buy a trencher or wood plate.
          Or if not it's no great matter,
          So you take a wooden platter.
          It may help us both to dinner,
          If you'll buy a wooden skimmer.
          Come, neighbours, don't be shy, for I deal just and fair,
          Come, quickly come and buy, all sorts of wooden ware."
</pre>
    <p>
      "Very well, indeed, for a wooden poet," exclaimed Bois; "he certainly
      deserved custom at all events: his rivals, Walter Scott or Lord Byron,
      would have turned such a poetical effusion to some account&mdash;it would
      have been dramatized&mdash;Murray, Longman, &amp;c. would have been all in
      a bustle, puffing, blowing, and advertising. We should have had piracies,
      Chancery injunctions, and the d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;1 to pay; but alas! it
      makes all the difference whether a poet is fashionable and popular or
      not."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 Lord Byron, in his preface to a recent publication,
     complains that among other black arts resorted to, for the
     purpose of injuring his fair fame, he has been accused of
     receiving considerable sums for writing poetical puffs for
     Warren's blacking. We can safely acquit his Lordship of this
     charge, as well as of plagiarism from the poems he alludes
     to; but it has led to a curious rencontre between the
     blacking-laureat, and his patron the vender of the shin-ing
     jet; and after considerable black-guardism between the
     parties, the matter is likely to become the subject of legal
     discussion among the gentlemen of the black robe.

     The poet, it appears, received half a crown for each
     production, from the man of blacking, which the latter
     considered not only a fair, but even liberal remuneration
     for poetic talent; not overlook-ing, that while the
     pecuniary reward would produce comfort, and add a polish to
     personal appearance, the brilliance of the composition,
     (both of poetry and blacking), would be fairly divided
     between he authors of each; and that the fame of both would
     be conjointly

     handed down to posterity, and shine for ever in the temple
     of fame.

     Now it requires no uncommon sagacity to perceive, that but
     for this unfortunate mistake of the public, the poet would
     have remained satisfied, as far as pecuniary recompence
     went, with the half-crown,&mdash;looking to futurity for that
     more complete recompence, which poets ever consider far
     beyond pudding or sensual gratification,&mdash;fame and
     immortality; but, alas!

     "From causes quite obscure and unforeseen, What great events
     to man may sometimes spring."

     Finding from Lord B.'s own statement, that the public had
     duly appreciated the merit of these compositions, and had
     attached so high a value, as even to mistake them for his
     Lordship's productions, our bard was naturally led into a
     train of reasoning, and logical deductions, as to what
     advantage had, and what ought to have resulted to himself,
     according to this estimate, by public opinion.&mdash;Lord B. and
     his great northern contemporary, it appeared, received
     thousands from the public for their poems, while half-crowns
     (not to be despised, during certain cravings, but soon
     dissipated by that insatiable and unceasing tormentor, the
     stomach,) was all the benefit likely to accrue in this world
     to the original proprietor: in a happy moment, a happy
     thought flitted athwart the poet's mind; and like the china
     seller in the Arabian Nights, he found himself rolling in
     ideal wealth; and spurning with disdain the blacking
     merchant, the blacking, and the half-crowns, he resolved on
     a project by which to realize his fondest wishes of wealth,
     happiness, and independence.

     The project was this: to collect together the fugitive
     blacking sonnets, so as to form a volume, under the title of
     Poems supposed to be written by Lord Byron, and offer the
     copyright to Mr. Murray; and in case of his refusing a
     liberal sum, (that is, some-thing approaching to what he
     pays the Noble Bard per Vol.) to publish them on his (the
     author's) own account, and depend on the public for that
     support and encouragement which their favourable decision
     had already rendered pretty certain.

     Now then comes 'the rub;' the blacking vender, hearing of
     our poet's intention, files a bill in Chancery, praying for
     an injunction to restrain the publication, and claiming an
     exclusive right in the literary property: the poet, in
     replication, denies having assigned or transferred the
     copyright, and thus issue is joined. His Lord-ship, with his
     usual extreme caution, where important rights are involved,
     wished to give the matter mature consideration, and said,
     "he would take the papers home, to peruse more attentively."
     It will be recollected, that in the cause, respecting Lord
     Byron's poem of Cain, his Lordship stated, that during the
     vacation he had, by way of relaxation from business, perused
     that work and Paradise Lost, in order to form a just
     estimate of their comparative merits; and who knows but
     during the present vacation, his Lordship may compare the
     blacking sonnets with "Childe Harold," "Fare Thee Well,"
     &amp;c.; and that on next seal day, the public may be benefited
     by his opinion as to which is entitled to the claim of
     superior excellence; and how far the public are justified in
     attributing the former to the noble author of the latter.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[377]</span> "Then," continued Sparkle, "there was a
      rustic usually mounted on a white hobby, with a basket on one arm, who
      used to invade the northern purlieus of London, mumbling Holloway
      Cheesecakes, which from his mode of utterance, sounded like 'Ho all my
      teeth ake.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha! ha! ha!" vociferated Tallyho, unable to restrain his risibility.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Numerous other instances might be adduced," continued Sparkle: "among
      many there was a noted Pigman, whose pigs were made of what is called
      standing crust, three or four inches long, baked with currant sauce in the
      belly, who used to cry, or rather sing,&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          'A long tail'd pig, or a short tail'd pig,' &amp;c.
</pre>
    <p>
      There was another singular character, who used to be called Tiddy-doll, a
      noted vender of gingerbread at Bartholomew, Southwark, and other fairs;
      who to collect customers round his basket used to chaunt a song, in which
      scarcely any thing was distinctly articulated but the cant expression
      Tiddy-doll: he used to wear a high cocked hat and feather, with broad
      scolloped gold lace on it; and last, though not least, was Sir Jeffery
      Vunstan, of Garrat fame, who used to walk about the streets in a blue coat
      with gold lace, his shirt bosom open, and without a hat, accompanied by
      his daughter, Miss Nancy, crying ould wigs."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Old wigs," reverberated Bob, "an extraordinary article of merchandize!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not more extraordinary than true," replied Dashall; "but come, I suppose
      we shall all feel inclined to write a few lines to the country, so let us
      make the best of our time."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this signal, each flew to the exercise of the quill, and indulged his
      own vein of thought in writing to his friend; and the day closed upon them
      without any further occurrence deserving of particular remark.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0014" id="link42HCH0014">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXVIII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          Haste away to Scotland dear,
          And leave your native home;
          The Land of Cakes affords good cheer
          And you've a mind to roam.&mdash;
          Here splendid sights, and gala nights
          Are all prepar'd for Thee;
          While Lords and Knights,&mdash;('mid gay delights!)

          And Ladies bend the knee.
          Haste away to Scotia's Land,
          With kilt and Highland plaid;
          And join the sportive, reeling band,
          With ilka bonny lad.&mdash;
          For night and day,&mdash;we'll trip away,
          With cheerful dance, and glee;
          Come o'er the spray,&mdash;without delay,
          Each joy's prepared for Thee.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[378]</span> The morning arose with a smiling and
      inviting aspect; and as it had been previously rumoured that his Majesty
      would embark from Greenwich Hospital at half-past eight o'clock, on his
      intended voyage to Scotland, our party had arranged every thing for their
      departure at an early hour, and before seven o'clock had seated themselves
      in a commodious and elegant barge moored off Westminster Bridge,
      intending, if possible, to see the City Companies, headed by the Lord
      Mayor and Court of Aldermen, start, as had been proposed, from the Tower.
      They were shortly afterwards gliding on the surface of the watery element
      towards the scene of action: by this time the numerous parties in pursuit
      of the same object were on the alert; and from almost every part of the
      shore as they passed along, gaily dressed company was embarking, while
      merry peals of bells seemed to announce approaching delight. The steeples
      on shore, and the vessels in the river, exhibited flags and streamers,
      which gave an additional splendour to the scene. All was anxiety and
      expectation; numerous barges and pleasure-boats, laden with elegant
      company, were speeding the same way, and every moment increasing, so that
      the whole view displayed a combination of beauty, fashion, and loyalty not
      often surpassed.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[379]</span> On arriving off the Tower, it was soon
      ascertained that the Lord Mayor and City Companies had got the start of
      them, and consequently they proceeded on their journey, not doubting but
      they should overtake them before reaching Greenwich; and in this
      expectation they were not disappointed; for soon after passing Rotherhithe
      Church, they came up with the City State Barge, which was towed by a steam
      boat, accompanied by several other state barges, the whole filled with
      company. The brightness of the morning, and the superb appearance of these
      gaily manned, and it might be added gaily womaned gallies, (for a numerous
      party of fashionably attired ladies added their embellishing presence to
      the spectacle) formed altogether a picture of more than ordinary interest
      and magnificence.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This Royal Visit to Scotland," said Sparkle, "has for some time past been
      a prevailing topic of discussion from one end of the Land of Cakes to the
      other, and the preparations for his Majesty's reception are of the most
      splendid description&mdash;triumphal arches are to be erected, new roads
      to be made, banquets to be given, general illuminations to take place,
      body guards of royal archers to be appointed, and the dull light of oil
      lamps to be totally obscured by the full blaze of Royal Gas. Then there
      are to be meetings of the civil and municipal authorities from every town
      and county, presenting loyal and dutiful addresses; and it is expected
      that there will be so much booing among the "Carle's when the King's
      come," that the oilmen are said to be not a whit disconcerted at the
      introduction of gas lights, the unctuous article being at present in great
      demand, for the purpose of suppling the stiff joints of the would-be
      courtiers, who have resolved to give a characteristic specimen of their
      humble loyalty, and to oulboo all the hooings of the famed Sir Pertinax."
    </p>
    <p>
      "However," observed Dashall, "it is not very likely they will be able to
      equal the grace with which it is acknowledged the King can bow; and he is
      to be accompanied by the accomplished Sir Billy, of City notoriety; so
      that admirable examples are certain of being presented to the Scottish
      gentry: reports state <span class="pagenum">[380]</span> that the worthy
      Baronet, who is considered to be of great weight wherever he goes, is
      determined to afford his Majesty, in this visit to Edinburgh, the benefit
      of that preponderating loyalty which he last year threw into the scale of
      the Dublin Corporation; and that he has recently purchased from a Highland
      tailor in the Hay market, a complete suit of tartan, philebeg, &amp;c.
      with which he means to invest himself, as the appropriate costume, to meet
      his royal master on his arrival at Edinburgh."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In that case," said Sparkle, "there is one circumstance greatly to be
      regretted, considering the gratification which our northern neighbours
      might have derived, from ascertaining the precise number of cwts. of the
      most weighty of London citizens. I remember reading a day or two back that
      the weigh-house of the City of Edinburgh was disposed of by public roup,
      and that a number of workmen were immediately employed to take it down, as
      the whole must be cleared away by the 6th of August, under a penalty of
      50L.: what a pity, that in the annals of the weigh-house, the Scotch could
      not have registered the actual weight of the greatest of London Aldermen."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom and Bob laughed heartily at their friend Sparkle's anticipations
      respecting the worthy Baronet; while Bob dryly remarked, "he should think
      Sir Willie would prove himself a honnie lad among the lasses O; and nae
      doubt he would cut a braw figure in his Highland suit."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But," continued Dashall, "we are indulging in visions of fancy, without
      paying that attention to the scene around us which it deserves, and I
      perceive we are approaching Greenwich Hospital. There is the royal yacht
      ready prepared for the occasion; the shores are already crowded with
      company, and the boats and barges are contending for eligible situations
      to view the embarkation. There is the floating chapel; and a little
      further on to the right is the Marine Society's School-ship, for the
      education of young lads for his Majesty's service. The Hospital now
      presents a grand and interesting appearance. What say you, suppose we land
      at the Three Crowns, and make inquiry as to the likely time of his
      Majesty's departure."
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart," replied Sparkle, "and we can then refresh, for I am
      not exactly used to water excursions, and particularly so early in the
      morning, consequently it has a good effect on the appetite."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[381]</span> By this time the City Barges had taken
      positions in the front of the Hospital, and our party passed them to gain
      the proposed place of inquiry: here, however, all was conjecture; the
      people of Greenwich Hospital appeared to know as little of the time
      appointed as those of the metropolis; and finding they had little chance
      of accommodation in consequence of the great influx of company, they again
      embarked, and shortly after attacked the produce of their locker, and with
      an excellent tongue and a glass of Madeira, regaled themselves
      sufficiently to wait the arrival. Time, however, hung heavily on their
      hands, though they had a view of thousands much worse situated than
      themselves, and could only contemplate the scene with astonishment, that
      serious mischiefs did not accrue, from the immense congregated multitude
      by which they were surrounded.
    </p>
    <p>
      Anxiety and anticipation were almost exhausted, and had nearly given place
      to despondency, when about three o'clock the extraordinary bustle on shore
      announced the certainty of the expected event being about to take place;
      and in about half an hour after, they were gratified by seeing his Majesty
      descend the steps of the Hospital, attended by the noblemen, &amp;c. under
      a royal salute, and rowed to the vessel prepared to receive him. The royal
      standard was immediately hoisted, and away sailed the King, amidst the
      heartfelt congratulations and good wishes of his affectionate and loyal
      people, the firing of cannon, the ringing of bells, and every other
      demonstration of a lively interest in his safety and welfare: leaving many
      to conjecture the feelings with which the heart must be impressed of a
      person so honoured and attended, we shall select a few descriptive lines
      from the pen of a literary gentleman, in his opinion the most likely to be
      expressive of the sentiments entertained on the occasion.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          ROYAL RECOLLECTIONS.

          As slow the yacht her northern track
          Against the wind was cleaving;
          Her noble Master oft look'd back,
          To that dear spot 'twas leaving:
          So loth to part from her he loves,
          From those fair charms that bind him;
          He turns his eye where'er he roves,
          To her he's left behind him.
          When, round the bowl, of other dears
          He talks, with joyous seeming,
          His smiles resemble vapourish tears,
          So faint, so sad their beaming;
          While memory brings him back again,
          Each early tie that twin'd him,
          How sweet's the cup that circles then,
          To her he's left behind him.

          Ah!   should our noble master meet
          Some Highland lass enchanting,
          With looks all buxom, wild, and sweet,
          Yet love would still be wanting;
          He'd think how great had been his bliss
          If heav'n had but assign'd him,
          To live and die so pure as this,
          With her he's left behind him.
          As travelers oft look back at eve,
          When eastward darkly going,
          To gaze upon that light they leave,
          Still faint behind them glowing.

          So, ere he's been a month away,
          At home we sure shall find him,
          For he can never longer stay,
          From her he's left behind him.
</pre>
    <p>
      The gay assemblage before them, and the ceremony of the embarkation, the
      sound of music, and the shouts of the populace, and animated appearance of
      the river, which by this time seemed all in motion, amply repaid our
      friends for the time they had waited; and after watching the departure of
      the Royal Squadron, they returned to town; and as they passed the London
      Docks, it occurred to the mind of the Hon. Tom Dashall, that his Cousin
      had not yet paid a visit to these highly interesting productions of human
      genius; and it was agreed that a day should be devoted to their inspection
      before his departure from the Metropolis.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0015" id="link42HCH0015">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXIX
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          &mdash;&mdash;Where has Commerce such a mart,
          So rich, so throng'd, so drained, and so supplied,
          As London; opulent, enlarged, and still
          Increasing London?   Babylon of old
          Not more the glory of the earth, than she;
          A more accomplish'd world's chief glory now.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[383]</span> According to arrangements previously
      made, our friends met in the morning with a determination to shape their
      course eastward, in order to take a survey of the Commercial Docks for the
      accommodation of shipping, and the furtherance of trade; and the carriage
      being ordered, they were quickly on their way towards Blackwall.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Docks of the Port of London," said the Hon. Tom Dashall, "are of the
      highest importance in a commercial point of view, and are among the
      prominent curiosities of British Commerce, as they greatly facilitate
      trade, and afford additional security to the merchants."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," said Sparkle, "and it is to be presumed, no small profit to the
      share-holders of the Companies by which they were established; but I
      expect your Cousin will derive more gratification from a sight of the
      places themselves, than from any description we can give, and the time to
      explain will be when we arrive on the spot; for it is scarcely possible
      for any one to conceive the immensity of buildings they contain, or the
      regularity with which the business is carried on.&mdash;" How do ye do?"
      (thrusting his head out of the window, and moving his hand with graceful
      familiarity,)&mdash;"I have not seen Sir Frederick since my matrimonial
      trip, and now he has passed by on horseback I really believe without
      seeing me; Dashall, you remember Sir Frederick Forcewit?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Perfectly well," replied Tom; "but I was paying so much attention to you,
      that I did not notice him. The liveliest fellow, except yourself, in the
      whole round of my acquaintance."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[384]</span> "And you are one of the best I ever met
      with to gain a point by a good turn; but take it, and make the most you
      can of it&mdash;I may have an opportunity of paying you off in your own
      coin."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho laughed heartily at the manner in which Sparkle had altogether
      changed the conversation, but could not help remarking that Sir Frederick
      had not given a specimen of his politeness, by avoiding a return of
      Sparkle's salutation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "And yet," continued Sparkle, "he is one of the most polished men I know,
      notwithstanding I think his upper story is not a bit too well furnished:
      he has a handsome fortune, and a pretty wife, who would indeed be a lovely
      woman, but for an affectation of manners which she assumed upon coming to
      the title of Lady Forcewit: their parties are of the most dashing order,
      and all the rank and fashion of the metropolis visit their mansion."
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle, who was in his usual humour for conversation and description, now
      entertained his friends with the following account of a party with whom he
      had spent an evening just previous to his departure from town.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mrs. Stepswift is the widow lady of a dancing-master, who having acquired
      some little property previous to his decease, left his partner in
      possession of his wealth and two daughters, though the provision for their
      education and support was but scanty. The mother had the good luck a few
      years after to add to her stock ten thousand pounds by a prize in the
      lottery, a circumstance which afforded her additional opportunities of
      indulging her passion for dress, which she did not fail to inculcate in
      her daughters, who, though not handsome, were rather pleasing and
      agreeable girls; and since the good fortune to which I have alluded, she
      has usually given a ball by way of introduction to company, and with the
      probable view, (as they are now marriageable), to secure them husbands. It
      was on one of these occasions that I was invited, and as I knew but one of
      the party, I had an excellent opportunity of making my uninterrupted
      remarks."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," said Dashall, "I'll wager my life you acted the part of an
      observant quiz."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And I should think you would be likely to win," observed Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[385]</span> "I am bound to consider myself
      obliged," continued Sparkle, "for the bold construction you are kind
      enough to put upon my character and conduct by your observations; but
      never mind, I am not to be intimidated by the firing of a pop-gun, or a
      flash in the pan, therefore I shall proceed. Upon my introduction I found
      the widow playing a rubber with a punchy parson, a lean doctor, and a
      half-pay officer in the Guards; and consequently taking a friend I knew by
      the arm, I strolled through the rooms, which were spacious and well
      furnished. In the ball-room I found numerous couples 'tripping it on the
      light fantastic toe,' to the tune of 'I'll gang no more to yon town,' and
      displaying a very considerable portion of grace and agility. In the other
      room devoted to refreshments and cards, I met with several strollers like
      myself, who being without partners, or not choosing to dance with such as
      they could obtain, were lounging away their time near the centre of the
      room. I was introduced to the two young ladies, who behaved with the
      utmost politeness and attention, though I could easily perceive there was
      a considerable portion of affectation mingled with their manners; and I
      soon discovered that they operated as the load-stone of attraction to
      several dandy-like beaux who were continually flocking around them.
    </p>
    <p>
      '"My dear Miss Eliza,' said a pug-nosed dandy, whom I afterwards
      understood to be a jeweller's shopman, 'may I be allowed the superlative
      honor and happiness of attending you down the next dance?' The manner in
      which this was spoken, with a drawling lisp, and the unmeaning attitude of
      the speaker, which was any thing but natural, provoked my risibility
      almost beyond forbearance; his bushy head, the fall of his cape, and the
      awkward stick-out of his coat, which was buttoned tight round his waist;
      the drop of his quizzing glass from his bosom, and the opera hat in his
      hand, formed altogether as curious a figure as I ever recollect to have
      seen; though my eyes were immediately directed to another almost as
      grotesque, by the young lady herself, who informed the applicant that she
      had engaged herself with Captain Scrambleton, and could not avail herself
      of his intended honor; while the captain himself, with a mincing gait,
      little compatible with the line of life to which it was to be presumed he
      was attached, was advancing and eyeing the would-be rival with all the
      apparent accuracy of a military scrutiny. The contrast of the two figures
      is <span class="pagenum">[386]</span> inconceivable&mdash;the supplicating
      beau on the one hand, half double, in the attitude of solicitation, and
      the upright position of the exquisite militaire, casting a suspicious look
      of self-importance on the other, were irresistible. I was obliged to turn
      on one side to prevent discovering my impulse to laughter. The captain, I
      have since learned, turned out to be a broken-down blackleg, seeking to
      patch up a diminished fortune by a matrimonial alliance, in which he was
      only foiled by a discovery just time enough to prevent his design upon
      Miss Eliza."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mere butterflies," exclaimed Dashall, "that nutter for a time in sunshine
      with golden wings, to entrap attention, while the rays fall upon them, and
      then are seen no more! but I always like your descriptions, although you
      are usually severe."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link4image-0004" id="link4image-0004">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page386.jpg" alt="Page386 at a Party " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      "As soon as I could recover my solemnity, I found a little gentleman, who
      reminded me strongly of cunning little Isaac in the Duenna, advancing
      towards Miss Amelia with true dancing-master-like precision. I soon
      discovered, by her holding up her fan at his approach, that she held him
      in utter aversion, and found he received a reply very derogatory to his
      wishes; when stepping up to her by the introduction of my friend, I
      succeeded m obtaining her hand for the dance, to the great mortification
      and discomfiture of Mr. O'Liltwell, who was no other than an Irish
      dancing-master in miniature. There is always room enough for observation
      and conjecture upon such occasions. There were, however, other characters
      in the rooms more particularly deserving of notice. In one corner I found
      Lord Anundrum, the ex-amateur director, m close conversation with Mr.
      Splitlungs, a great tragedian, and Tom Little, the great poet, on the
      subject of a new piece written by the latter, and presented for acceptance
      to the former by. Mr. Splitlungs, the intermediate friend of both. I
      discovered the title of this master-piece of dramatic literature to be no
      other than 'The Methodical Madman, or Bedlam besieged.' A little further
      on sat Dr. Staggerwit, who passes for a universal genius: he is a great
      chemist, and a still greater gourmand, moreover a musician, has a hand in
      the leading Reviews, a share m the most prominent of the daily papers; is
      president of several learned institutions, over the threshold of which he
      has never passed, and an honorary member of others which have long been
      defunct: he appeared to be absorbed in contemplation, and taking but
      little notice of the gaieties by which he was surrounded. My friend
      informed me he was just then endeavouring to bring before Parliament his
      <i>coup de maître</i>, which was a process for extracting a nourishing
      diet for the poor from oyster shells."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[387]</span> "What the devil is the matter?"
      exclaimed Dashall, thrusting his head out of the carriage window upon
      hearing a sudden crash.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Matter enough, your honour," bawled an athletic Irishman in the habit of
      a sailor; "by the powers, here's Peg Pimpleface, the costermonger's great
      grand-daughter, at sea without a rudder or compass, upset in a squall, and
      run bump ashore; and may I be chained to the toplights if I think either
      crew or cargo can be saved."
    </p>
    <p>
      It appeared that Peg Pimpleface had been round Poplar, Limehouse, and
      their vicinities, to sell her cargo of greens, potatoes, and other
      vegetables; and having met with tolerable success, she had refreshed
      herself a little too freely with the juniper, and driving her donkey-cart
      towards Whitechapel, with a short pipe in her mouth, had dropped from her
      seat among the remains of her herbage, leaving her donkey to the
      uncontrolled selection of his way home. A Blackwall stage, on the way to
      its place of destination, had, by a sudden jerk against one of the wheels
      of Peg's crazy vehicle, separated the shafts from the body of the cart,
      and the donkey being thus unexpectedly disengaged from his load, made the
      best of his bargain, by starting at full speed with the shafts at his
      heels, while the cart, by the violence of the concussion, lay in the road
      completely topsy turvey; consequently Tom looked in vain for the fair
      sufferer who lay under it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Poor Peg," continued the Irishman, "by the powers, if her nose comes too
      near the powder magazine, the whole concarn will blow up; and as I don't
      think she is insured, I'll be after lending her a helping hand; "and with
      this, setting his shoulders to the shattered machine, at one effort he
      restored it to its proper position, and made a discovery of Peg
      Pimpleface, with her ruby features close to a bunch of turnips, the
      whiteness of which served to heighten in no small degree their effect: the
      fall, however, had not left her in the most delicate situation for public
      inspection; the latter part of her person presenting itself bare, save and
      except that a bunch of carrots appeared to have sympathized in her
      misfortune, and <span class="pagenum">[388]</span> kindly overshadowed her
      brawny posteriors. As she lay perfectly motionless, it was at first
      conjectured that poor Peg was no longer a living inhabitant of this world:
      it was, however, soon ascertained that this was not the fact, for the
      Hibernian, after removing the vegetables, and adjusting her clothes, took
      her up in his arms, and carried her with true Irish hospitality to a
      neighbouring public-house, where seating her, she opened her eyes, which
      being black, shone like two stars over the red protuberance of her face.
    </p>
    <p>
      "By J&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;s," says Pat, "Peg's a brilliant of the first
      water; give her a glass of max, and she'll be herself in two minutes:" at
      the sound of this, animation was almost instantaneously restored, and Tom
      and his friends having ascertained that she had sustained no bodily harm,
      gave the generous Irishman a reward for his attentions, jumped into the
      carriage, and proceeded on their journey.
    </p>
    <p>
      They were not long on their journey to Black wall; where having arrived,
      the first object of attention was the East India Docks, to which they were
      introduced by Mr. M. an acquaintance of Dashall's.
    </p>
    <p>
      "These Docks," said Tom to his Cousin, "are a noble series of works, well
      worthy of the Company which produced them, though they generally excite
      less interest than the West India Docks, which are not far distant, and of
      which we shall also have a sight."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It should be remembered," observed Mr. M. "that these docks are solely
      appropriated to the safe riding of East Indiamen. The import dock is 1410
      feet long, 560 wide, and 30 feet deep, covering an area of 18 acres and a
      half. The export dock is 780 feet long, 520 feet wide, and 30 feet deep,
      covering nine acres and a half, with good wharf, and warehouse room for
      loading and unloading."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pray," said Bob, "what are those immense caravans, do they belong to the
      shew-folk, the collectors of wild beasts and curiosities for exhibition at
      the fair? or&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      "They are vehicles of considerable utility, Sir," replied Mr. M.; "for by
      means of those covered waggons, all the goods and merchandize of the East
      India Company are conveyed to and from their warehouses in town, under
      lock and key, so as to prevent fraud and smuggling. They are very
      capacious, and although they have a heavy and cumbrous appearance, they
      move along the road <span class="pagenum">[389]</span> with more celerity
      than may be imagined; and the high wall with which the docks are
      surrounded, prevents the possibility of any serious peculation being
      carried on within them. The Company are paid by a tonnage duty, which they
      charge to the owners. Coopers, carpenters, and blacksmiths, are
      continually employed in repairing the packages of goods, landing, and
      snipping; and a numerous party of labourers are at all times engaged in
      conveying the merchandize to and from the shipping, by which means
      hundreds of families are provided for. The Company is established by Act
      of Parliament, and for the convenience of the merchants they have an
      office for the transaction of business in town."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is a very extensive concern," said Tallyho, "and is doubtless of very
      great utility."
    </p>
    <p>
      Having satisfied themselves by looking over these extensive works, Mr. M.
      informed them, that adjoining the Docks was a ship-building yard, formerly
      well known as Perry's Yard, but now the property of Sir Robert Wigram.
      "Probably you would like to take a view round it."
    </p>
    <p>
      To this having replied in the affirmative, they were quickly introduced.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Sir Robert," said Mr. M. "has been, and I believe still is, a
      considerable managing owner of East India Shipping, whose fortune appears
      to have advanced as his family increased, and perhaps few men have
      deserved better success; he was born at Wexford, in Ireland, in the year
      1744, and was brought up under his father to the profession of a surgeon:
      he left Ireland early in life, to pursue his studies in England, and
      afterwards obtained an appointment as surgeon of an East Indiaman, and
      remained some years in the service: he married Miss Broadhurst, the
      youngest daughter of Francis Broadhurst, of Mansfield, in Nottinghamshire,
      an eminent tanner and maltster; soon after which he commenced his career
      as owner of East India Shipping. The General Goddard, commanded by William
      Taylor Money, Esq. sailed under his management, and was fortunate enough
      during the voyage to capture eight Dutch East Indiamen, of considerable
      value, off St. Helena; since which he has been one of the most eminent
      ship-owners in the City of London."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[390]</span> "A proof," said Sparkle, "of the
      advantages to be derived from perseverance, and the active exercise of an
      intelligent mind."
    </p>
    <p>
      "His first wife," continued the informant, "died in the year 1786, leaving
      him five children; and in the following year he married Miss Eleanor
      Watts, daughter of John Watts, Esq. of Southampton, many years Secretary
      to the Victualling Office, who is the present Lady Wigram, the benevolence
      of whose heart, and gentleness of manners, have not only endeared her to
      her husband, but gained her the esteem and regard of all who know her, and
      by this lady he has had seventeen children."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds!" said Bob, "a man ought to have a mine of wealth to support such
      a numerous progeny."
    </p>
    <p>
      "They are, however, all of them well provided for; and Sir Robert has the
      happiness, at an advanced age, to find himself the father of a happy
      family; he rejoices once a year to have them all seated at his own table;
      and has in many instances surprised his friends by an introduction. It is
      related, that a gentleman from the Isle of Wight met him near the
      Exchange, and after mutual salutations were passed, he invited the
      gentleman to dine with him, by whom an excuse was offered, as he was not
      equipped for appearing at his table. 'Nonsense,' said Sir Robert, 'you
      must dine with me; and I can assure you there will be only my own family
      present, so come along.' Guess the surprise of his visitor, on being
      introduced to a large party of ladies and gentlemen. He was confused and
      embarrassed. He begged pardon, and would have retired, declaring that Sir
      Robert had informed him that none but his own family were to be present.
      This Sir R. affirmed he had strictly adhered to, and introduced his friend
      to his sons and daughters by name, which it may fairly be presumed, though
      it explained, did not exactly tend to decrease his visitor's
      embarrassment."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And these premises," inquired Bob, "belong to the man you have
      described?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "The same," said Mr. M.; "they are managed and conducted under the
      superintendence of two of his sons. Here, East India ships are built,
      launched, and repaired: there are two on the stocks now of considerable
      magnitude; the premises are extensive and commodious, and that high
      building which you see is a mast-house, and the other buildings about the
      yard are devoted to sail lofts, and shops for the various artizans,
      requisite to complete the <span class="pagenum">[391]</span> grand design
      of building and fitting out a ship for sea. From this yard you have a fine
      view over the marshes towards Woolwich, and also a commanding prospect of
      Greenwich Hospital. The various vessels and boats passing and repassing at
      all times, give variety to the scene before you; and when a launch takes
      place, the whole neighbourhood represents something of the nature of a
      carnival; the river is covered with boats filled with company, and every
      part of the shore near the spot from which the magnificent piece of
      mechanism is to burst upon its native element, is equally occupied;
      temporary booths are erected upon each side of what is termed the cradle,
      for the accommodation of invited visitors; bands play as she moves, and a
      bottle of wine is thrown at her head as she glides from the stocks, when
      her name is pronounced amidst the universal shouts of huzza."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It must be a most gratifying sight," observed Bob, "to see her cleave the
      watery world; indeed it is a very pleasing view we have already had of
      these floating castles, though I must also remark, that your descriptions
      have added greatly to the enjoyment, and I think we are much indebted for
      your kindness."
    </p>
    <p>
      They now parted with Mr. M.; and after refreshing with a glass of wine and
      a sandwich at the Plough, they proceeded to the West India Docks, the
      entrance to which required no introduction. "Here," said Dashall, "you
      will find a much longer space occupied than at the East India Docks. These
      were undertaken according to an Act of Parliament passed in 1799, and the
      place was formerly called the Isle of Dogs, though it might almost as
      appropriately have been called the Isle of Boys. Upon the wharfs and quays
      adjoining, all West India ships unload and load their cargoes."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And exclusively, I suppose," interrogated Tallyho, "for the accommodation
      of West India Shipping?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Exactly so," continued Tom; "the West India Trade generally arrives in
      fleets, and formerly used to create much crowding, confusion, and damage
      in the river; but these ships being now disposed of in the docks, the
      overgrown trade of the port is carried on with pleasure and convenience;
      for notwithstanding they have occasioned a very important trade to be
      removed to a considerable and even inconvenient distance from the
      metropolis, yet the advantages to the Port of London are upon the whole
      incalculable.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[392]</span> "The Northern Dock for unloading
      inwards is 2600 by 510 feet, and 29 feet deep, covering a space of 30
      acres, and capable of containing from two to three hundred sail of
      vessels, in greater security than the river could afford them; and the
      West India Dock Company are reimbursed for the accommodation by a tonnage
      of 6s. upon the burthen of every ship which enters the docks; besides
      which they are entitled to charge for wharfage, landing, housing,
      weighing, cooperage, and warehouse room; certain rates upon all goods that
      are discharged, such as 8d. per cwt. upon sugar; 1d. per gallon upon rum;
      Is. 6d. per cwt. upon coffee; 2s. 6d. per cwt. upon cotton, wool, &amp;c.:
      and all this immense business is conducted with a general order and
      regularity which greatly facilitates the business of the merchant."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But," said Sparkle, "I apprehend it subjects him to something more of
      expense than he incurred by the former mode of proceeding."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am not able decidedly to answer," continued Tom; "but in the main, I
      expect that if so, it is well worth what is paid to have the additional
      security. The forms of conducting the business may sometimes be attended
      with considerable trouble, but there are persons so well acquainted with
      them by habitual practice, that there cannot be much difficulty at this
      period. This is the Export Dock, which covers an area of 24 acres, and is
      2600 by 400 feet, and 29 deep. The immense buildings round the two docks,
      are warehouses for the reception of goods, and are of the most substantial
      description; and to enable shipping in their passage up and down the
      Thames to avoid the circuitous and inconvenient course round the Isle of
      Dogs, a canal has been cut across this peninsula, through which, upon
      paying certain moderate rates, all ships, vessels, and craft, are
      permitted to pass in their passage up and down the river. In seeing this,
      and the East India Docks, you have seen pretty well the nature of the
      whole, for they are all of a similar construction, for similar purposes,
      and under similar management: but we will now look in at the London Docks,
      which are situated between Ratcliffe Highway and the Thames, then home to
      dinner, and to dress for Lady M.'s party in the evening."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[393]</span> Thus saying, they took their way
      towards the place he had mentioned. It would, however, be extending
      description more than necessary, after the preceding observations of the
      Hon. Tom Dashall, except to state that the Dock covers 20 acres of ground,
      and is 1262 feet long, 699 feet wide, and 27 deep. The warehouses,
      situated at the eastern extremity, are two in number, appropriated for the
      reception of tobacco; the largest 762 feet long, and 160 feet wide,
      equally divided by a strong partition wall, with double iron doors; the
      smallest is 250 feet by 200. They consist of a ground floor and vaults,
      the latter of which are devoted to the care and housing of wines, in which
      are usually 5000 pipes. They are solely under the control of the Customs,
      and the proprietors of the Docks have nothing more to do with them than to
      receive the rent. Other warehouses are devoted to the reception of the
      various articles of commerce, and the small buildings situated near the
      edge are appropriated to counting-houses for clerks and officers, and for
      weighing and pileing the goods, workshops, &amp;c. as in the West India
      Docks. The capital of the Company is about £2,000,000, and the ultimate
      profits are limited to 10 per cent. The building was commenced in 1802,
      and the grand dock was opened in 1805. In the immense subterraneous
      caverns under the warehouses, all wines imported by the London merchant
      are deposited, without paying the import duty, until it is fully disposed
      of by the owner: a practice which is termed bonding, and saves the
      proprietor the advance of the duty to government out of his capital. When
      the merchant finds a person likely to become a purchaser, he directs a
      written order to the cellarman, to peg certain pipes which are a part of
      his stock, in order that the visitor may taste the various samples, and
      select from them such as he is most agreeable to purchase."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And no small convenience, of course," said Bon, "and of course the goods
      are not allowed to be removed till the duties and charges are paid by the
      purchaser."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly," was the reply; "they are held as a security for their
      ultimate payment; but come, as we have already seen enough of docks, let
      us make the best of our way home."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[394]</span> Upon arrival in Piccadilly, a letter
      from Merrywell reminded Tom of his proposed journey to the country, with
      the additional attraction of Merrywell's description of the parson's
      daughter, whom he suggested might in all probability become his wife.
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle likewise received a letter from home, reminding him of the
      expectations entertained of his early arrival. After dinner the evening
      was spent in the most agreeable and pleasant way, where our friends
      engaged themselves with tripping it on the light fantastic toe at Lady
      M.'s, till the beams of the morning darted upon them.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0016" id="link42HCH0016">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXX
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          I'm amaz'd at the signs
          As I pass through the town,
          To see the odd mixture,
          "A Magpie and Crown,"
          "The Whale and the Crow."
          "The Razor and Hen,"
          "The Leg and Seven Stars,"
          "The Bible and Swan,"
          "The Axe and the Bottle,"
          "The Tun and the Lute,"
          "The Eagle and Child,"
          "The Shovel and Boot."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[395]</span> The proposed time for departure having
      pressed hard upon our friends, (who though determined to quit the gaieties
      of London, still seemed to linger, like the moth about the candle,
      unwilling to separate themselves from its delights,) preparations were at
      length decided and acted upon; the Hon. Tom Dashall having ordered his
      servants to proceed on the road with the carriage, horses, and other
      appendages of his rank, giving time for arrival at the place of
      destination by easy stages, in order to avoid over fatiguing either his
      attendants or his horses, an example which was followed by Sparkle and
      Tallyho, who had mutually agreed to travel by the Mail; for which purpose
      places were accordingly taken at the Bull and Mouth, which being announced
      to Tallyho, he took occasion to ask his Cousin for an explanation of so
      singular a sign for an Inn.
    </p>
    <p>
      "As far as I am able to learn," replied Tom, "it was originally the Mouth
      of Boulogne Harbour, or Boulogne Mouth,&mdash;and from thence corrupted to
      the Bull and Mouth. There are, however, many curious signs, to trace the
      original derivation of which, has afforded me many amusing moments during
      my perambulation through the streets of the metropolis; indeed it has
      often struck me, that the signs in many instances are so opposite to the
      several professions they are intended to designate, that some remedy
      should certainly be applied."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[396]</span> "And how," said Sparkle, "would you
      propose to have the exhibition of signs regulated?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "That," said Dashall, "as a subject of deep importance, ought to be
      subjected to the legislative body for decision: it will be enough for me
      to point out a few instances which have come under my own immediate
      notice.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A short time back, as I was passing near Smithfield, I was surprised at
      observing the sign of 'The Cow and Snuffers;' and whilst I was
      endeavouring to throw some light upon this subject, and puzzling myself in
      endeavouring to discover how it was possible for a Cow to snuff a Candle,
      or even a farthing rushlight; nay, even how it could happen that so
      strange an association should take place, I was diverted from my study on
      turning round, to find that some artist had exercised his ingenuity in
      painting a Goat in Jack Boots. At first I conceived this must be intended
      as a satire on our old debauchees, many of whom hide their spindled shanks
      in the tasselled hessian. These proving inexplicable to my shallow
      understanding, I pursued my walk, and observed against a strong newbuilt
      house&mdash;'A Hole in the Wall;' and not far from the Fleet Prison, I
      perceived, with some surprise, 'A Friend at Hand.' Over a house kept by
      Nic. Coward, I saw 'The Fighting Cocks;' and at a crimping rendezvous,
      remarked, 'The Tree of Liberty.'&mdash;'The Jolly Gardeners' were stuck up
      at a purl house; and I can assure you, it was with much mortification I
      detected 'The Three Graces' at a gin shop."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha, ha, ha," said Tallyho, laughing, "very natural combinations of
      characters and subjects for a contemplative philosopher like yourself to
      exercise your ingenuity upon."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Passing by a public-house," continued Tom, "the landlady of which was
      exercising her tongue with the most clamorous volubility, I could scarcely
      credit my eyes to find the sign of 'The Good Woman,' or, in other words, a
      woman without a head. Entering a house for refreshment, I was told, after
      calling the waiter for near an hour, that I was at the sign of 'The Bell;'
      and upon desiring the master of 'The Hen and Chickens,' to send <span
      class="pagenum">[397]</span> me home a fine capon, he shewed me some
      cambric, and assured me it was under prime cost. The most ominous sign for
      a customer, I thought, was 'The Three Pigeons;' and I own it was with
      considerable astonishment when, after ordering a bed at 'The Feathers,' I
      was compelled to pass the night on a straw mattrass. I have breakfasted at
      'The Red Cow,' where there was no milk to be had; and at the sign of 'The
      Sow and Pigs,' have been unable to procure a single rasher of bacon. At
      'The Bell Savage,' (which by the way is said to be a corruption of La
      Belle Sauvage, or 'The Beautiful Savage,') I have found rational and
      attentive beings; and I have known those who have bolted through 'The Bolt
      in Tun,' in order to avoid being bolted in a prison."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Vastly well, indeed," exclaimed Sparkle; "and after all there is much to
      be done by a sign as well as by an advertisement in the newspapers,
      however inappropriate. The custom is of very ancient date, having been
      made use of even by the Romans; and not many years back a bush of ivy, or
      a bunch of grapes, was used for the purpose; nay, to the present day they
      may be met with in many places. The Bush is perhaps one of the most
      ancient of public-house signs, which gave rise to the well-known proverb,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Good wine needs no bush."
    </p>
    <p>
      That is to say, it requires nothing to point out where it is sold. At
      country fairs, you will frequently see the houses in its vicinity
      decorated with a Bush or a Bough, from which they are termed Bough Houses,
      where accommodation may be found. This practice, I know, is still in use
      at Boroughbridge, in Yorkshire, during their annual fair in June, which
      lasts a week or ten days. But putting up boughs as a sign of any thing to
      be sold, was not confined to alehouses; for in old times, such as sold
      horses were wont to put flowers or boughs upon their heads, to reveal that
      they were vendible.{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 In all probability from this practice originated the well
     known proverb,

     "As fine as a horse,"

     an illustration of which, from the "Life of Mrs.
     Pilkington," is here subjoined:&mdash;

     "They took places in the waggon for Chester, and quitted
     London early on May morning; and it being the custom on the
     first of this month to give the waggoner at every Inn a
     ribbon to adorn his team, she soon discovered the origin of
     the proverb 'as fine as a horse;' for before they got to
     the end of the journey, the poor beasts were almost blinded
     by the tawdry party-coloured flowing honours of their
     heads."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[398]</span> In Scotland, a wisp of straw upon a
      pole, is or was some years ago the indication of an alehouse; and to this
      day a ship or vessel for sale may be discovered by a birch broom at the
      mast head. I remember reading, that in Fleet Market, on the eastern side,
      there were some small houses, with a sign post, representing two hands
      conjoined, with words, "Marriages performed within" written beneath them,
      whilst a dirty fellow assailed the ears of the passengers with the
      reiterated and loud address of, "Sir, will you walk in and be married,"
      (as if the dread of any stoppage in the trade of conjugality was
      threatening mankind with premature extinction,) and the parson was seen
      walking before his shop, ready to couple you for a dram of gin or a roll
      of tobacco."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Those were the times for getting married," exclaimed Bob, "no affidavits,
      certificates, and exposures at church doors!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No," continued Sparkle, "those are signs of altered times. A witty
      wigmaker adopted the sign of Absolom hanging to a tree, with King David
      lamenting at a distance, who was represented with a label issuing from his
      mouth, containing these words&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "O Absolom! my Son! my Son!
          Had'st thou a peruke worn, thou had'st not been undone."
</pre>
    <p>
      This sign, if I remember right, was to be seen a few years since in
      Union-street, Borough, and is not uncommon even now in France, where you
      may also find the 'Cochon sans Tete,' (the pig without a head,) which is
      generally a restaurateur's sign, indicating that 'good pork is here&mdash;the
      useless animal's head is off,' illustrative of the Negro's opinion of a
      pig in England&mdash;"de pig," said Mungo, "is de only gentleman in
      England&mdash;man workee, woman workee, horse workee, ass workee, ox
      workee, and dog workee&mdash;pig do nothing but eat and sleep&mdash;pig
      derefore de only gentleman in England.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[399]</span> The conversation increased in interest
      as they proceeded, and Tallyho was all attention; for it must be observed,
      that as his inquiry had occasioned it, he was willing to listen to all
      that could be advanced on the subject; and the Hon. Tom Dashall determined
      to have his share in the explanation.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The 'Man in the Moon,'" said he, "is derived from the old observation,
      that a tipsy person is 'in the wind,' or 'in the moon,' (a lunatic.) The
      sign may therefore be thought to give this advice, 'Here is good drink,
      gentlemen, walk in and taste it; it will make you as happy as the man in
      the moon; that is to say, steep your senses in forgetfulness.'&mdash;'The
      Bag of Nails' was the sign of an Inn at Chelsea, which may perhaps be
      noticed as the <i>ne plus ultra</i> of ludicrous corruption, having
      originally been a group of <i>Bacchanals</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      Here risibility could no longer be restrained, and a general laugh ensued.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A group of Bacchanals, however," continued Tom, "is certainly not an out
      of the way sign for an Inn, nor do I conceive its corruption so very <i>outre'</i>,
      when we look at others that have suffered much stranger metamorphoses; for
      who would have thought that time could have performed such wonderful
      changes as to have transformed a view of Boulogne Harbour into a Black
      Bull, and a tremendous mouth sufficiently large to swallow its neighbours,
      horns and all; or the name La Belle Sauvage, or Beautiful Savage, into a
      bell, and a gigantic wild man of the woods."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then again," said Sparkle, "taking up the subject, "the pole and bason,
      though no longer the exhibited emblems of a barber's occupation in London,
      are still very often to be met with in its environs and in the country,
      where they are ostentatiously protruded from the front of the house, and
      denote that one of those facetious and intelligent individuals, who will
      crop your head or mow your beard, 'dwelleth here.' Like all other signs,
      that of the barber is of remote antiquity, and has been the subject of
      many learned conjectures: some have conceived it to originate from the
      word poll, or head; but the true intention of the party-coloured staff,
      was to indicate that the master of the shop practised surgery, and could
      breathe a vein, as well as shave a beard; such a staff being to this day
      used by practitioners, and put into the hand of the patient while
      undergoing the operation of phlebotomy: the white band, which no doubt you
      have observed encompassing the staff, was meant to represent the fillet,
      thus elegantly twined about it.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[400]</span> "And this," said Sparkle, "appears to
      be the most reasonable conjecture of any I ever heard, as it is well known
      the two businesses were in former times incorporated together, and the
      practiser was termed 'A Barber Surgeon.' Then as to their utility: the
      choice of a witty device, or splendid enluminure, was formerly thought of
      great consequence to a young beginner in the world; and I remember reading
      of an Innkeeper at Cassel, who having considerably profited by his
      numerous customers under the sign of 'The Grey Ass,' supposing himself
      well established in his trade and his house, began to be tired of the
      vulgar sign over his door, and availed himself of the arrival of the
      Landgrave of Hesse, to make (as he thought) a very advantageous change. In
      an evil hour, therefore, 'The Grey Ass' was taken down and thrown aside,
      in order to give place to a well painted and faithful likeness of the
      Prince, which was substituted for it as a most loyal sign.
    </p>
    <p>
      "A small and almost unfrequented house in the same town, immediately took
      up the discarded sign, and speculatively hoisted 'The Grey Ass.' What was
      the consequence? Old codgers, married men with scolding Avives at home,
      straggling young fellows, and all the 'fraternity of free topers,'
      resorted to the house, filled the tap-room, crammed the parlour, and
      assailed the bar: the Grey Ass had the run, and was all the vogue; whilst
      the venerable Prince of Hesse swung mournfully and deserted at the other
      place, and enticed no visitors, foreign or domestic; for it should be
      observed, that 'The Grey Ass' had such reputation all over Germany, that
      every foreign nobleman or gentleman who came to Cassel, was sure to order
      his coach or chaise to be driven to the inn of that name; and this order
      of course was still continued, for how was it to be known by travellers
      coming from Vienna, Hungary, or Bohemia, that a certain innkeeper at
      Cassel had altered his sign? To the inn, therefore, which was denominated
      'The Grey Ass,' they still went.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What could the poor deserted innkeeper do in such a case? To deface the
      fine portrait of his master, would have been high treason; yet losing his
      customers on the other hand was downright starvation. In this cruel
      dilemma he dreamt of a new scheme, and had it executed.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[401]</span> The portrait of the Prince was
      preserved, but he had written under it, in large characters,
    </p>
    <p>
      'This is the Original Grey Ass.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "Excellent!" exclaimed the Hon. Tom Dashall, "though I must confess you
      have travelled a long way for your illustration, which is quite sufficient
      to shew the utility of signs. But I would ask you if you can explain or
      point out the derivation of many we have in London&mdash;such for instance
      as 'The Pig and Tinder-Box'&mdash;'The Prad and Blower'&mdash;'The Bird
      and Baby'&mdash;'The Tyrant and Trembler'&mdash;'The Fist and Fragrance'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hold," cried Sparkle, "I confess I am not quite so learned."
    </p>
    <p>
      "They are novel at least," observed Tallyho, "for I do not recollect to
      have met with any of them."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha, ha, ha!" exclaimed Tom, "then you are not fly, and I must add
      something to your stock of knowledge after all. The Pig and Tinder-Box is
      no other than the Elephant and Castle&mdash;The Prad and Blower, the Horse
      and Trumpeter&mdash;The Bird and Baby, the Eagle and Child&mdash;The
      Tyrant and Trembler, the Lion and Lamb&mdash;The Fist and Fragrance, the
      Hand and Flowers. Then we have the Book, Bauble, and holler, which is
      intended to signify the Bible, Crown, and Cushion."
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment a thundering knock at the door announced a visitor, and put
      an end to their conversation.
    </p>
    <p>
      In a few minutes a letter was delivered to Dashall, which required an
      immediate answer: he broke the seal, and read as follows:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dear Tom, "Come to me immediately&mdash;no time to be lost&mdash;insulted
      and abused&mdash;determined to fight Bluster&mdash;You must be my second&mdash;I'll
      blow his blustering brains out at one pop, never fear. At home at 7, dine
      at half-past; don't fail to come: I will explain all over a cool bottle of
      claret&mdash;then I shall be calm, at present I am all fire and fury&mdash;don't
      fail to come&mdash;half-past seven to a moment on table. You and I alone&mdash;toe
      to toe, my boy&mdash;I'll finish him, and remain, as ever,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yours, sincerely,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Lionel Laconic."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[402]</span> "Here's a breeze," said Tom; "desire
      the messenger to say I shall attend at the appointed hour. Death and the
      devil, this defeats all previous arrangement; but Laconic is an old
      college friend, whom I dare not desert in a moment of emergency. I fear I
      shall not be able, under such circumstances, to leave town so early as was
      proposed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Sorry for it," replied Sparkle, "and more sorry to be deprived of your
      company now our time is so short; however, I depart according to the time
      appointed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And I," said Tallyho, "having no honorable business to detain me in town,
      intend to accompany you."
    </p>
    <p>
      "If that be the case," said Tom, "I may perhaps be almost obliged to delay
      a few days, in order to adjust this difference between Bluster and
      Laconic, and will follow at the earliest moment. It is, however, a duty we
      owe each other to render what assistance we can in such cases." "I
      thought," continued Tallyho, "you were no friend to duelling."
    </p>
    <p>
      "By no means," was the reply; "and that is the very reason why I think it
      necessary to delay my departure. I know them both, and may be able to
      bring matters to an amicable conclusion; for to tell you the truth, I
      don't think either of them particularly partial to the smell of powder;
      but of that I shall be able to inform you hereafter; for the present
      excuse me&mdash;I must prepare for the visit, while you prepare yourselves
      for your departure."
    </p>
    <p>
      Sparkle and Tallyho wished Tom a pleasant evening, took their dinner at
      the Bedford Coffee-house, and spent the evening at Covent-Garden Theatre,
      much to their satisfaction, though not without many anticipations as to
      the result of their friend's interference between the two hot-headed
      duellists.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0017" id="link42HCH0017">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXXI
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The music, and the wine,
          The garlands, the rose odours, and the flowers,
          The sparkling eyes, and flashing ornaments,
          The white arms, and the raven hair&mdash;the braids
          And bracelets&mdash;swan-like bosoms, and the necklace,
          An India in itself, yet dazzling not the eye
          Like what it circled.

          All the delusions of the gaudy scene,
          Its false and true enchantments&mdash;all which
          Swam before the giddy eyes."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[403]</span> Dashall being wholly occupied by the
      unexpected affair noticed in our last Chapter, had left his Cousin and
      friends to amuse themselves in the best way they could, prior to the
      completion of the necessary arrangements for quitting the metropolis. The
      party were undecided upon what object to fix their choice, or how to bend
      their course; and while warmly discussing the subject, were suddenly
      interrupted by the appearance of Gayfield, who learning that Dashall was
      from home, and upon what occasion, broke out with his usual volubility.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, these affairs of honor certainly are imperious, and no doubt ought
      to take precedence of every thing else. My object in calling was chiefly
      to give him a description of the Countess of &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;'s rout
      on Saturday last, in Berkeley-square, where I intimated I should be, when
      I last fell in with him. '<i>Oh Ciélo Empireo</i>.' I'm enchanted yet,
      positively enchanted! I ought to have Petrarch's pen to describe such a
      scene and such dresses. Then should a robe of Tulle vie with that of Laura
      at the church door&mdash;that dress of '<i>Vert parsemée de violets</i>.'
      But softly, let us begin with the beginning, <i>Bélier mon ami</i>. What a
      galaxy of all the stars of fashion! It was a paradise of loveliness, fit
      for Mahomet. All the beauties of the Georgian Æra were present. Those real
      graces, their Graces of A&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; and R&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;
      were among the number.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[404]</span> The Countess of L&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;
      and Lady F&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; O&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; would make one cry
      heresy when the poets limit us to a single Venus. And then the Lady P&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;'s.
      Heaven keep us heart-whole when such stars rain their soft influence upon
      us. As to the Countess of B&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;, with her diamond tiara,
      and eyes brighter than her diamonds, she looked so goddess-like, that I
      was tempted to turn heathenish and worship. Indeed, that bright eyes
      should exert their brilliancy amid the dazzling brightness of our fair and
      elegant hostess's rooms, is no trifle. Dancing commenced at eleven; and,
      although my vanity allured me to think that the favorable glances of more
      than one would-be partner were directed towards me, I felt no inclination
      to sport a toe in the absence of Lady L. M. By-the-by, Count C&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;
      told me, with a profusion of foreign compliment, that I and the 'observed
      of all observers,' Lord E&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;h, were the best drest male
      personages at the rout.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thanks to the magical operation of the Schneider, who makes or mars a man.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The <i>coup d'oil</i> of the scene was charming. <i>Cétoit un vrai délice</i>&mdash;that
      atmosphere of light, of fragrance, and of music&mdash;gratifying all the
      senses at once. Oh! what bosoms, arms, and necks were thronging round me!
      Phidias, had he attempted to copy them, would have forgotten his work to
      gaze and admire. Description fails in picturing the <i>tout ensemble</i>,&mdash;the
      dazzling chandeliers blazing like constellations&mdash;the richly
      draperied <i>meubles</i>&mdash;the magnificent dresses&mdash;and then so
      many eyes, like stars glittering round one; like 'Heaven,' as Ossian says,
      'beaming with all its fires.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the midst of my admiration, I was accosted by Caustic, and expressed
      my surprise at finding him in such a scene&mdash;'A rout,' he replied, 'is
      just one of those singular incoherences which supply me with laughter for
      a month. Was there ever such a tissue of inconsistencies assembled as in
      these pleasure hunts? On stepping from your carriage, you run the gauntlet
      through two lines of quizzing spectators, who make great eyes, as the
      French term it, at you, and some of whom look as if they took a fancy to
      your knee buckles. A double row of gaudy footmen receive you in the
      blazing hall, and make your name echo up the stairs, as you ascend, in a
      voice of thunder. Your <i>tête s'exalte</i>, and when you expect to be
      ushered into the Temple of Fame, you find yourself embedded (pardon the
      metaphor) in a <i>parterre</i> of female beauty.'
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[405]</span> "As for me," I replied, interrupting
      the satirist, "I delight in such things. I believe that fashion, like
      kings, can do no wrong."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And so you would rather have your ribs beat in, than your name left out.
      But look round you, in God's name! what is the whole scene but &amp;
      fashionable mob met together to tread on each other's heels and tear each
      other's dresses? Positively, you cannot approach the mistress of the
      mansion to pay those common courtesies which politeness in all other cases
      exacts. And how so many delicate young creatures can bear a heat, pressure
      and fatigue, which would try the constitution of a porter, is <i>incroyable</i>.
      Talk of levelling! This 'is the chosen seat of <i>égalité</i>.' All
      distinctions of age, grace, rank, accomplishment, and wit, are lost in the
      midst of a constantly accumulating crowd. What nerves but those of pride
      and vanity, can bear the heat, the blaze of light, the buzz of voices
      above, and the roar of announcements from below?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "While Caustic was speaking, his reasoning received a curious and apposite
      illustration. Three or four ladies near us began fainting, or affected to
      faint, and hartshorn and gentlemen's arms were in general requisition.
      Notwithstanding his acerbity, Caustic, like a preux chevalier, pressed
      forward to offer his aid where the pressure was most oppressive, and where
      the fainting ladies were dropping by dozens, like ripe fruit in autumn. As
      for myself, I was just in time to receive in my arms a beautiful girl who
      was on the point of sinking, and, being provided with hartshorn, my
      assistance was so effectual, with the aid of a neighbouring window, that I
      had the satisfaction of restoring her in a few minutes to her friends, who
      did all they could, by crowding round her with ill-timed condolements, to
      prevent her recovery. By this time the rest of the ladies took warning
      from these little misadventures to retire. Caustic, in his sardonic way,
      would insist upon it, that they retired to avoid that exposure of defects
      in beauty, which the first ray of morning produces. I took my <i>congé</i>
      among the rest, and found the hubbub which attended my entrance, increased
      to a tenfold degree of violence at my exit; for the uproar of calling 'My
      Lord This's carriage,' and 'My Lady That's chair,' was nothing in
      comparison to the noise produced <span class="pagenum">[406]</span> by
      servants quarrelling, police officers remonstrating, carriages cracking,
      and linkboys hallooing. Some of the mob had, it appeared, made an
      irruption into the hall, to steal what great-coats, cocked hats, or
      pelisses they could make free with. This was warmly protested against by
      the footmen and the police, and a regular set-to was the consequence.
      Through this 'confusion worse confounded' I with difficulty made my way to
      the carriage, and was not sorry, as the slang phrase is, to make myself
      scarce."
    </p>
    <p>
      The party could not feel otherwise than amused by Gayfield's description
      of the rout; and the conversation taking a turn on similar subjects,
      Sparkle, ever ambitious of displaying his talent for descriptive humour,
      gave the following sketch of a fashionable dinner party:&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "I went with Colonel A&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;, by invitation, to dine with
      Lord F., in Portman Square. Lord F. is a complete gentleman; and, though
      sadly inconvenienced by the gout, received me with that frank, cordial,
      and well-bred ease which always characterizes the better class of the
      English nobility. The company consisted of two or three men of political
      eminence; Lord Wetherwool, a great agriculturist; Viscount Flash, an
      amateur of the Fancy; Lord Skimcream, an ex-amateur director of a winter
      theatre; Lord Flute, an amateur director of the Opera, whose family motto,
      by a lucky coincidence, is '<i>Opera non Verba</i>.' There were, moreover,
      Mr. Highsole, a great tragedian, and my friend Tom Sapphic, the dandy
      poet; one of those bores, the 'Lions' of the season. He had just brought
      out a new tragedy, called the 'Bedlamite in Buff,' under the auspices of
      Lord Skimcream; and it had been received, as the play-bills announced,
      with 'unprecedented, overwhelming, and electrifying applause.' Of course I
      concluded that it would live two nights, and accounted for the dignified
      <i>hauteur</i> of my friend Tom's bow, as he caught my eye, by taking into
      consideration the above-named unprecedented success. There was also
      present the universal genius, Dr. Project, to whom I once introduced you.
      He is a great chymist, and a still greater <i>gourmand</i>; moreover, a
      musician; has a hand in the leading reviews; a share in the most prominent
      of the daily papers. "Little was said till the wine and desert were
      introduced; and then the conversation, as might naturally be expected from
      the elements of which the party was composed, split itself into several
      subdivisions. As I sat <span class="pagenum">[407]</span> next to Colonel
      A., I had the advantage of his greater familiarity with the personages at
      table. Lord Wetherwool was as absurd as he could possibly be on the
      subject of fattening oxen. Lord Flute and Viscount Flash laid bets on the
      celerity of two maggots, which they had set at liberty from their
      respective nut-shells. The noble ex-director, Highsole and Sapphic, were
      extremely warm in discussing the causes of the present degradation of the
      stage; each shuffling the responsibility from the members of their own
      profession and themselves. Dr. Project entertained his noble host with an
      interminable dissertation upon oxygen, hydrogen, and all the <i>gens</i>
      in the chemical vocabulary; for patience in enduring which his Lordship
      was greatly indebted to his preparatory fit of the gout. Meanwhile, the
      lordling exquisites only fired off a few 'lady terms,' like minute guns
      and 'angel visits,' with long intervals between, filling up the aforesaid
      intervals by sipping Champagne and eating <i>bonbons</i>. The essence of
      what they said, amounted to mutual wonder at the d&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;d
      run of luck last night, in King-street; or mutual felicitation on the new
      faces which had appeared that day, for the first time, among the old
      standing beauties who charm Bond-street, at lounge hours, either in
      curricle or on foot. For my part, I was attracted towards the discussion
      of the dramatic trio, not because I affect, as the cant of the day is, to
      have a particular attrait towards the <i>belles lettres</i>, but merely
      because the more plebeian disputants were vociferous, (a thing not often
      observed among fashionables) and <i>outré</i> in their gesticulations,
      even to caricature. 'What do you think of their arguments?' I inquired, <i>sotte
      voce</i>, of Colonel A. 'If we are to be decided by their conjoint
      statements, no one is to blame for the degradation of the stage.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "'They are all in the right,' returned he, '(excuse the paradox,) because
      they are all in the wrong. There is a rottenness in the whole theatrical
      system, which, unless it terminate, like manure thrown at the root of
      trees, in some new fructification of genius, will end by rendering the
      national theatres national nuisances. With reference to the interests of
      literature, they are a complete hoax. To please the manager, the object
      which the writer must have in view, he must not paint nature or portray
      character, but write up, as the cant phrase is, to the particular forte of
      Mr. So and So, or Miss Such-a-one. The consequence is, that the public get
      only one species of fare, and that is pork, varied indeed, as broiled,
      baked, roasted, and boiled; but still pork, nothing but pork.'
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[408]</span> "'But surely,' I rejoined, 'Mr. Sapphic
      and Mr. Highsole are gentlemen of high acquirements, independently of
      their several professions, or a nobleman of Lord F&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;'s
      taste and discrimination&mdash;'
    </p>
    <p>
      "'There you are falling into an error,' returned the colonel, interrupting
      me; 'it is the fashion to introduce actors at the tables of our great men;
      but, in my opinion, it is a 'custom more honored in the breach than the
      observance.' I have known several good actors on the stage, very
      indifferent actors in society, and large characters in the play-bills, as
      well as loud thunders from the gods, may be earned by very stupid, very
      vulgar, and very ill-bred companions. The same may be said of poets. We
      are poor creatures at best, and the giant of a reviewer very often cuts
      but a very sorry figure when left to the ricketty stilts of his own
      unsupported judgment in a drawing-room. You are tolerably familiar with
      our political parties; but you are yet to be acquainted with our literary
      squads, which are the most bigotted, selfish, exclusive, arrogant, little
      knots of little people it is possible to conceive.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "By the time that Colonel A&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;had ended his short
      initiation into these various arcana, the company broke up; the doctor to
      give a lecture on egg-shells at the Committee of Taste; Lord Flute to
      visit the Opera; Lord Skimcream to the Green Boom; Lord Flash to 'Fives
      Court,' to see a set-to by candle-light; the exquisites to Bouge et Noir
      or Almack's; and Lord Wetherwool to vote on an agricultural question,
      without understanding a syllable of its merits.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nevertheless," I soliloquized as I rode home, "his Lordship will be
      surprised and gratified, I dare say, to find himself a perfect Demosthenes
      in the newspaper reports of to-morrow morning. Hems, coughs, stammerings,
      blowing of the nose, and ten-minute lapses of memory, all vanish in
      passing through the sieves and bolters of a report. What magicians the
      reporters are! What talents, what powers of language they profusely and
      gratuitously bestow! Somnus protect me from hearing any but some half
      dozen orators in both houses! The reader, who peruses the report, has only
      the flour of the orator's efforts provided for him. But Lord help the
      unfortunate patient in the gallery, who, hopeless of getting through the
      dense mass which occupy the seats round him, is condemned to sit with an
      'aching head,' and be well nigh choaked with the husks and the bran."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[409]</span> Our party felt so much amused by these
      lively and characteristic pictures of real life among the Corinthians of
      the Metropolis, that all thoughts of seeking amusement out of doors
      appeared for the present relinquished; and Sparkle, to keep the subject
      alive, resumed as follows.
    </p>
    <p>
      "In order to give some shade and variety to this sketch of society in the
      west, we will now, if agreeable, travel eastward as far as the entrance to
      the City, where I will introduce you, in fancy, to what must (at least to
      our friend Tallyho) afford both novelty and surprise.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Some time ago, and before I was quite so well versed in the knowledge of
      Life in London as at present, through the medium of one of the 'young men
      of genius about town,' I became a member of a new philosophical society
      called the Socratics, held at a certain house near Temple Bar. Having been
      plucked by several kind friends, till I resembled the 'man of Diogenes,' I
      concluded that here, at least, my pockets might be tolerably safe from the
      diving of a friendly hand. Philosophers, I was told by my friend the
      introducer, had souls above money; their thoughts were too sublime and
      contemplative for such worldly-minded concerns. I should have a great deal
      of instruction for little or nothing; I had only to pay my two guineas per
      annum, and the business was done; the gate of science was open, and
      nothing farther was requisite than to push forward and imitate Socrates.
      But how strangely do our anticipations mislead our sober judgments!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          'Jove breaks the tallest stilts of human trust,
          And levels those who use them with the dust.'
</pre>
    <p>
      "The proprietor of the institution was rather courtier-like in making
      promises, which the managers of course considered as much too common-place
      and mechanical to be kept. It professed to exclude politics and religion
      from the touch of its scientific paws; in other words, from its
      discussions; but, alas!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          'It kept the word of promise to the ear
          And broke it to the hope.'
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[410]</span> "The only subjects which it did not
      exclude were politics and religion. Neither could it be said that either
      of these subjects received more benefit from the way in which they were
      handled, than a white dress would from the handling of a chimney-sweeper,
      the first being made as black as possible in the form of Tom-Payneism, and
      the latter served up in the improved shape of Hartleyism or Atheism. Under
      such instruction it was scarcely possible but that I should, in process of
      time, become qualified, not only for a philosopher, but a legislator of
      the first water; and I had serious thoughts of offering my services, for
      the purpose of drawing up a code of laws, to the Otaheitans or the
      Calmucks. If I had gone on improving as I did, I might, perhaps, have
      carried out to some Backwood settlement or Atlantic island, as pretty a
      Utopian prescription, under the designation of a constitution, as could
      well be desired in the most philosophical community. But one of those sad
      trifles which suffocate great ideas, and sometimes terminate in
      suffocating philosophers, put a stop to my further enlightenment for the
      present, by drying up the treasury of the Socratics. The philosophers were
      the most civil as well as the most unfortunate people in the world. One or
      other of them was always in want of money, either to perfect some great
      scheme, or to save him from the unscientific 'handling' of a bailiff. It
      was enough to move a mile-stone, to think how the progress of improvement,
      or 'march of mind,' as it is called, might be delayed by being too
      cold-hearted; and it did move my purse to such a degree, that at length I
      had the satisfaction of discerning truth, sitting sola, at the bottom of
      it. My pocket consumption, however, was not instant, but progressive; it
      might be called a slow fever. Some of the philosophers visited me for a
      loan, like a monthly epidemy; others drained me like a Tertian; and one or
      two came upon me like an intermittent ague, every other day. Among these
      was Mr. Hoaxwell, the editor, as he called himself, of a magazine. This
      fellow had tried a number of schemes in the literary line, though none had
      hitherto answered. But he had the advantage and credit of shewing in his
      own person, the high repute in which literature is held in London, for he
      could seldom walk the streets without having two followers at his heels,
      one of whom frequently tapped him on the shoulder, no doubt, to remind him
      of mortality, like the slave in the <span class="pagenum">[411]</span>
      Roman triumphs. The favourite thesis of this gentleman, was the 'march of
      mind;' and on this subject he would spout his half hour in so effectual a
      manner, as to produce two very opposite effects; viz. the closing of the
      eyes of the elder philosophers, and the opening of mine, which latter
      operation was usually rendered more effectual by his concluding inquiry of
      'have you such a thing as a pound note about you?'
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          To match this saint, there was another,
          As busy and perverse a brother.
</pre>
    <p>
      "This was the treasurer of the Socratics, Thomas Carney Littlego, Esq. and
      a treasure of a treasurer he was. This gentleman was a pupil of
      Esculapius, and united in his own person the various departments of
      dentist, apothecary, and surgeon. It is presumed that he found the
      employment of drawing the eye teeth of Philosophical Tyros more
      profitable, and bleeding the young Socratics more advantageous, than
      physicking his patients. In his lectures he advocated the system of
      research, and admired deduction; and this I, among many others, had
      reason, at last, to know. It was very odd, but so it was, that some two or
      three hundred per annum, subscribed by the members of the society,
      vanished into the worthy treasurer's pocket, as it were a Moskoestron, and
      then disappeared for ever.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Another of the Socratics was called Epictetus Moonshine, Esquire. This
      gentleman was a tall spider-like man, with lantern jaws, hatchet face, and
      a mouth&mdash;the chief characteristic of which was, that it made a
      diagonal line from the bottom of the face to the eyebrow. He was a great
      speculator, and had taken it into his head, that beyond the blue mountains
      in New South Wales, was the real El Dorado. But as he possessed, according
      to the usual phrase, more wit than money, and no one will discount a check
      from the aforesaid wit on change, the zeal of Epictetus Moonshine, some
      time after the breaking up of the Socratic institution for benefitting the
      human race, so much got the better of self-love, that he committed several
      petty larcenies in hopes of being transported thither; but whether his
      courage or his luck failed him, certain it is that he never reached the
      proper degree of criminality, and only succeeded in visiting by turns the
      various penitentiaries in London and its vicinity.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[412]</span> "'You mistake greatly, Sir,' said he,
      to one of the visiting governors of Bridewell, who condoled with a man of
      his talents in such a position, 'if you think a residence in this
      sequestered haunt a subject of regret. The mind, as Milton says, is its
      own seat, and able of itself to make&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          'A heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.'
</pre>
    <p>
      And now I am on the subject of stoicism, permit me to shew you a picture
      which I have just chalked out, wherein I prove that there is no such thing
      as pain in the world. That all which we now feel is imagination; that the
      idea of body is deception. I have had it printed, &mdash;written in
      fourteen languages, and presented to all the sovereigns of Europe, with a
      new code of laws annexed to it. I'll bring it in a minute, if you'll
      excuse me.' So saying, the pupil of Zeno disappeared, wrapping his blanket
      round him; but other speculations of 'matters high' no doubt attracted him
      from the remembrance of his promise, (just as he forgot to pay some score
      pounds he borrowed of me) for the visitor saw no more of him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The mention of El Dorado brings to my recollection another member, Mr.
      Goosequill, who came to town with half-a-crown in his pocket, and his
      tragedy called the 'Mines of Peru,' by which he of course expected to make
      his fortune. For five years he danced attendance on the manager, in order
      to hear tidings of its being 'cast,' and four more in trying to get it
      back again. During the process he was groaned, laughed, whistled, and
      nearly kicked out of the secretary's room, who swore (which he well might
      do, considering the exhausted treasury of the concern) that he knew
      nothing about nor ever heard of the 'Mines of Peru.' At last Mr.
      Goosequill, being shewn into the manager's kitchen, to wait till he was at
      leisure, had the singular pleasure of seeing two acts of the 'Mines of
      Peru,' daintily fastened round a savory capon on the spit, to preserve it
      from the scorching influence of the fire.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This was foul treatment, I observed, as he concluded his tale, and I
      ventured to ask how he had subsisted in the meanwhile? 'Why,' said he, 'I
      first made an agreement with a printer of ballads, in Seven Dials, who
      finding my inclinations led to poetry, expressed his satisfaction, telling
      me that one of his poets had lost his senses, and was confined in Bedlam;
      and another was become dozed with <span class="pagenum">[413]</span>
      drinking drams. An agreement was made,' continued he, 'and I think I
      earned five-pence halfpenny per week as my share of this speculation with
      the muses. But as my profits were not always certain, I had often the
      pleasure of supping with Duke Humphrey, and for this reason I turned my
      thoughts to prose; and in this walk I was eminently successful, for during
      a week of gloomy weather, I published an apparition, on the substance of
      which I subsisted very comfortably for a month. I have often made a good
      meal upon a monster. A rape has frequently afforded me great satisfaction,
      but a murder well-timed was a never-failing resource.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "But to return to the catastrophe of the Socratics: "By the time that the
      philosophical experiments in 'diving without hydraulics' had cleaned me
      entirely out, it was suggested that any thing in the shape of a loan would
      be desirable; they were not nice&mdash;not they; a pair of globes; a set
      of catoptric instruments; an electrical apparatus; a few antique busts; or
      a collection of books for the library;&mdash;any old rum, as Jack.'said,
      would do; and all and every of the before-mentioned loans would be most
      punctually taken care of. And truly enough they were, for the lender was
      never destined to cast an eye on any portion of the loan again. I was,
      indeed, so fortunate as to catch a glimpse of my globes and instruments at
      a pawnbroker's, and the fragments of my library at sundry book-stalls. It
      was now high time to cut the connection, for the Socratics were rapidly
      withdrawing. The association, for want of the true golden astringent, like
      a dumpling without its suet, or a cheap baker's quartern loaf without its
      'doctor,' (i.e. alum), was falling to pieces. The worthy treasurer had
      retired, seizing on such articles as were most within reach; and when I
      called upon him with my resignation, I had the pleasure of seeing my own
      busts handsomely lining the walls of the toothdrawer's passage. I waited
      on the Socratics for the Bums they had been so polite as to borrow.&mdash;One,
      to shew that he had profited by studying Socrates, threatened to accuse me
      and the society of a plot to overturn the government, if a syllable more
      on so low a subject as money was mentioned. Another told me that he was
      just going on a visit to Abbot's Park for three months, and should be glad
      to see me when he came back. A third, an unwashed artificer,' was so kind
      as to inform me that <span class="pagenum">[414]</span> he 'had just got
      white-washed, and he did not care one straw for my black looks.' And a
      fourth, an index-maker, when presented with his acceptance, kindly
      indicated that he had not the slightest recollection of the thing, and
      that, if I persisted in compelling payment, he would bring a philosophical
      gentleman from Cold Bath Fields, and two honest men from Newgate, to swear
      that it was not his hand-writing.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The drop-curtain being thus let down on the last act of the farce, there
      was no alternative between being queerly plundered, or instantly laying a
      horse-whip over the hungry philosophers. To sue them reminded me of the
      proverb&mdash;'Sue a beggar,' &amp;c. To crack a <i>baculine</i> joke over
      their sconces would involve an expense which the worthy philosophers were
      not worth. I had done an imprudent thing in joining the 'march of mind,'
      and all that I could do was to brush the dust from my coat and the mud
      from my shoes: 'he that touches pitch,' says Solomon, 'shall he not be
      denied thereby?' Mr. Treasurer, therefore, remained in quiet possession of
      the busts&mdash;the book-stall displayed the properly appreciated volumes&mdash;and
      the Socratic borrowers took all the care in the world of 'value
      received.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus the day, which it was intended to have been spent in amusements out
      of doors, was passed in animated and amusing conversation over the
      hospitable and convivial board, and a fresh zest was added to wit and
      humour by the exhilarating influence of the rosy god.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0018" id="link42HCH0018">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXXII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          In London, blest with competence.
          With temper, health, and common sense,
          None need repine or murmur&mdash;nay,
          All may be happy in their way.
          E'en the lone dwelling of the poor
          And suffering, are at least obscure;
          And in obscurity&mdash;exempt
          From poverty's worst scourge&mdash;contempt.
          Unmark'd the poor man seeks his den.
          Unheeded issues forth again;
          Wherefore appears he, none inquires,
          Nor why&mdash;nor whither he retires.
          All that his pride would fain conceal,
          All that shame blushes to reveal;
          The petty shifts, the grovelling cares,
          To which the sous of want are heirs;
          Those evils, grievous to be borne,
          Call forth&mdash;not sympathy, but scorn;
          Here hidden&mdash;elude the searching eye
          Of callous curiosity.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[415]</span> The following morning was one of
      unusual bustle, activity, and anxiety, the originally intended movements
      of the party being thus unexpectedly interrupted. Dashall had arisen
      before his usual hour, and departed from home before the appearance of
      Sparkle and Bob to breakfast: it was, of course, supposed that the
      promised duel would have decided the fate of one of the antagonists before
      they should see him again.
    </p>
    <p>
      In this conjecture, however, they were pleasingly disappointed by his
      arrival about half past eleven o'clock.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," said Sparkle, "it is all over&mdash;who has fallen&mdash;which is
      the man&mdash;how many shots&mdash;what distance&mdash;who was the other
      second&mdash;and where is the wounded hero?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay," said Tom, "you are before-hand with me; I have none of the
      intelligence you require.&mdash;I have been in search of Lord Bluster, who
      left town this very morning, three hours before my arrival, for Edinburgh;
      and consesequently, I suppose, either has no intimation of Laconic's
      intention to seek, or if he has&mdash;is determined to be out of the way
      of receiving a regular challenge; so that, in all probability, it will
      end, like many other duels, in smoke."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[416]</span> "Notwithstanding your friend's letter
      was so full of fire," observed Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "But perhaps he became more cool over a bottle of claret&mdash;toe to toe,
      my boy," continued Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      This conversation was interrupted by a letter, which being delivered to
      Tom, he read aloud, interrupted only by laughter, which he could not
      restrain.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dear Tom, "Don't like fighting in England&mdash;am off directly for Cork.&mdash;Tell
      Bluster I'll wait there till he comes&mdash;but if he values his life, not
      to come at all.&mdash;-Please do the needful in despatching my servants,
      &amp;c. within two days, for I am in such a passion I can't wait a moment.&mdash;So
      adieu.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yours, sincerely, Laconic."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Excellent, upon my word," said Sparkle; "here are two men of honour
      determined upon meeting, running away from each other even before the
      preliminaries are arranged."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is novelty in it at least," said Tom, "though I am by no means
      astonished at the end of it; for I before observed, I do not think either
      of them over fond of powder. Laconic pretended that nothing would satisfy
      him but fighting immediately, provided Bluster was to be found: any person
      to whom bis character was not known would have expected some spilling of
      blood before this time. But it is now plain that this blustering was the
      effect of the wine, and the man's cooler judgment has extinguished the
      flame of his irritability."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I think," said Tallyho, "it would be well to advise them to meet
      half-seas over, and draw a cork together by way of settling their
      differences."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Curse their differences," replied Dashall, "I'll have nothing more to do
      with them: upon the whole, I am glad now that I could not meet with
      Bluster, or I should have looked like a fool between the two; and as it
      is, I am not much pleased with the adventure, particularly as it must
      necessarily delay me, and I hate the idea of travelling alone. I should
      very much have liked to start with you; but as Laconic has made me fully
      acquainted with his affairs, in case he should fall in the intended duel,
      I must even comply with the contents of his note; though, if he had not
      actually departed, you may rest assured I would have nothing to do with
      him or his concerns."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[417]</span> "Come, come," cried Sparkle, "grumbling
      is of no use now; and as the circumstances are not made public, the
      duellists will escape being laughed at. There is no harm done&mdash;we
      must be upon the alert&mdash;we shortly bid adieu to London, and shall not
      be so well pleased to leave you behind; but remember you promise to follow
      as quickly as possible.&mdash;Now, how shall we dispose of the remainder
      of the time?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Zounds," replied Tom, "all my plans are deranged by this foolish affair
      of Laconic's, and I can hardly tell which way to move.&mdash;However, I
      shall not devote myself to his affairs to-day; therefore I am at your
      service; and as time is but short with us, let us make good use of it. The
      tragedy of the duel having ended most comically, I am prepared for any
      thing farcical; therefore say the word, and I am your man for a toddle,
      east, west, north, or south."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this intimation, our friends sallied forth upon a sort of Quixotic
      excursion in search of adventures, for neither could make up his mind as
      to the precise place of their destination, when the first object that
      attracted their particular notice was a large printed bill, announcing to
      the public, "That the sale at Fonthill Abbey, advertised for the 8th of
      October, would not take place, in consequence of the property being
      disposed of by private contract."{1}
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 The following appeared in  the daily prints relating   to
     this valuable property:&mdash;

     "FONTHILL ABBEY. "The sale at this splendid mansion is not
     to take place, the estate having been sold by private
     contract; the purchaser is said to be Mr. Farquhar, a rich
     East India merchant, who is reported to have given 330,000L.
     for the property. It is stated that every article in the
     Abbey goes with it, with the exception of the family plate
     and pictures, and a very few favourite rarities. Possession
     is to be taken immediately. The sale of the whole estate is
     an event for which the people of the place seem to have been
     totally unprepared. They were led to believe, from the
     beginning, that nothing was to be sold but the mere luxuries
     of the place; but as to the Abbey, they universally
     asserted, in the strongest manner, as if they had good
     reason to be convinced of the thing, that Mr. Beck-ford
     would as soon part with his life as with a residence which
     he prized so dearly. Now, however, that they have heard from
     the steward, that the estate has been sold, and that he has
     received notice to quit his office in a fortnight, they
     begin to feel that they have lost an excellent landlord. Mr.
     Beckford has taken a house in town, in the New Road, where
     he means chiefly to reside in future. Every body is aware
     that the chief part of that princely income, which enabled
     him to raise this expensive edifice from the foundation, was
     derived from his paternal estates in the West Indies. Such
     was the wealth which those estates at one time pro-duced,
     that it obtained for his grandfather the distinction of
     being considered the richest subject in Europe. For the last
     ten years they have declined very materially, and several of
     them have been entirely lost through a defect that has been
     discovered in the title. The original purchaser obtained
     these in the way of mort-gage, and having foreclosed them in
     an untechnical manner, advantage has been taken of the
     informality by the heirs of the mortgagors, and Mr. Beckford
     has been dispossessed. The defence of his title, and the
     other consequences, involved him in losses and vast
     expenses; besides which, the revenue from his unquestionable
     estates in those islands has declined to less than one-tenth
     of what it formerly was. Mr. Farquhar, the gentleman who is
     reported to have purchased Fouthill Abbey, is the principal
     partner and proprietor of Whitbread's brew-house, and is
     likewise at the head of the first mercantile house in the
     City, for the management of all agency concerns, connected
     with India."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[418]</span> "Thousands of people," says Dashall,
      "who had been flocking to that neighbourhood, intending to obtain a view
      of the premises, will, by this event, be disappointed. Several of my
      friends have paid a visit to it, and describe it as a most princely
      mansion."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And pray," inquired Sparkle, "what is the cause of its being sold at all
      1 It has always been reported that Mr. Beckford was a man of very
      extensive property."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That appears to be a little mysterious, and report, who is always a busy
      fellow on extraordinary occasions, has not been idle: by some it is
      stated, that Mr. Beckford suffered great and irreparable losses in his
      West India property, and that there are in the Abbey at this moment
      executions to the amount of eighty thousand pounds; that the view of the
      effects has taken place entirely under the control of the sheriffs: by
      others it is asserted that no such embarrassment exists. However, be that
      as it may, the public have been highly gratified for some time past in
      being permitted to view the estate and the valuable curiosities it
      contains; and the produce of the admission tickets, which has probably
      netted twenty thousand pounds, goes to the liquidation of the debts."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[419]</span> "And an excellent plan for raising the
      wind too," said Tallyho; "the example, I suppose, has been taken from
      Wanstead House."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Most likely," was the reply; "but if it is true that the disposal of the
      property is occasioned by the embarrassment of its owner, it cannot but
      excite painful and melancholy reflections on the tenure by which men hold
      the goods of this life. Those who were acquainted with Mr. Beckford's
      circumstances some years ago, thought him so secured in the enjoyment of a
      princely income, that he was absolutely out of the reach of ill fortune,
      being at one time in the actual receipt of one hundred thousand pounds a
      year. It cannot be said of him that he has wasted his inheritance at the
      gaming-table. The palace which he raised on a barren mountain, the greater
      part of those vast plantations which surround it, the collection of books,
      and of rare specimens of art, and the superb furniture, which gives such
      peculiar dignity and splendour to the interior of his residence, speak at
      once the immensity of his means, and attest the propriety and gracefulness
      of their application."
    </p>
    <p>
      "We ought to have taken a trip there to have seen this earthly paradise,"
      rejoined Tallyho; "but now I suppose it is all over."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly," was the reply; "and it is a circumstance for which the people
      in the neighbourhood appear to have been totally unprepared. They were led
      to believe, from the beginning, that the mere luxuries of the place were
      to be sold, and the public announcement of this had the effect of filling
      the county of Wilts with pleasure-hunters from all quarters. He was
      fortunate who, for some time past, could find a vacant chair within twenty
      miles of Fonthill: the solitude of a private apartment was a luxury which
      few could hope for; and an old friend of mine informs me, in one of his
      letters, that, coming from London, travellers first met their troubles
      about Salisbury, The languages of France, of Holland, and of Germany, the
      peculiarities (in tongue) of Scotland and Ireland, the broad dialect of
      Somersetshire, the tinckling accent of Wales, and the more polished tones
      of metropolitan residents, were all, at the same moment, to be heard
      clashing and contending. There were bells ringing, and chamber-maids
      screaming&mdash;horses prancing, and post-boys swearing&mdash;wheels
      clattering, and waiters jostling&mdash;guests threatening, and hubbub and
      confusion the orders of the day:&mdash;and all this to see something which
      half of them, when they got there, if they were so fortunate, could not
      obtain a sight of. So that, perhaps, we have been quite as well off in
      remaining at home."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[420]</span> "That was spoken like a philosopher,"
      said Sparkle, dryly.&mdash;"But pray, who is to be the future possessor of
      this fine estate?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "A Mr. Farquhar, who, according to the best information I have obtained,
      is a man of an extraordinary character, and has given 330,000L. for it as
      it stands, with every article in the Abbey except the family plate and
      pictures, and a few very favourite rarities. Some interesting particulars
      of the purchaser have recently been made known; from which it appears,
      that he is a native of Aberdeen, and went out early in life to India,
      where he was employed in the medical department. Chemical research was his
      favourite pursuit: there was some defect in the manner of manufacturing
      gunpowder, and Mr. Farquhar was selected to give his assistance. By
      degrees, he obtained the management of the concern, and finally he became
      the sole contractor to the government. In this way wealth and distinction
      rapidly poured in upon him. After some years of labour, he returned to
      England with half a million of money; and it is somewhat curious that a
      man possessed of so much money upon his arrival at Gravesend, should,
      merely to save the expense of coach-hire, walk up to London; which,
      however, it appears he did, when his first visit, very naturally, was to
      his banker. Without waiting for refreshment or alteration of attire, full
      of dust and dirt, with clothes not worth a guinea, he presented himself at
      the counter, and asked for Mr. Coutts. The clerks, not much prepossessed
      in his favour by his appearance, disregarded his application; and he was
      suffered to remain in the cash-office under the idea of his being some
      poor petitioner, until Mr. Coutts, passing through it, recognized his
      Indian customer, the man whom he expected to see with all the pomp of a
      nabob. Mr. Farquhar requested to have five pounds; which having received,
      he took his departure. This anecdote strongly marks the character and
      habits of the man. He soon afterwards settled in Upper Baker-street, where
      his house was to be distinguished by its dingy appearance, uncleaned
      windows, and general neglect. An old woman was his sole attendant; and his
      apartment, to which a brush or broom was never applied, was kept sacred
      from her care. His neighbours were not acquainted with his character; and
      there have been instances of some of them offering him money as an object
      of charity."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[421]</span> "An admirable tenant for such a place
      as Fonthill, truly," observed Sparkle.&mdash;"Why, what the devil will he
      do with it now he has got it?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Perhaps," said Dashall, "I ought to refer you to the man himself for an
      answer to such a question, for I am at a loss to guess; he is now
      sixty-five years of age, and still in single blessedness."
    </p>
    <p>
      "A very enviable situation," remarked Sparkle, "However," continued Tom,
      "he has done some good in the world, and may live to do more. He became a
      partner in the great agency house in the City, of Basset, Farquhar, and
      Co.; besides which, he purchased the late Mr. Whitbread's share in the
      brewery. Part of his great wealth was devoted to the purchase of estates;
      but the great bulk was invested in stock, and suffered to increase on
      compound interest. He is deeply read in ancient and modern literature, and
      has a mind of extraordinary vigour and originality; his conversation of a
      superior order, impressive and animated on every subject. His sentiments
      are liberal, and strangely contrasted with his habits. His religious
      opinions are peculiar, and seem to be influenced by an admiration of the
      purity of the lives and moral principles of the Brahmins. It is said that
      he offered 100,000L. to found a college in Aberdeen, with a reservation on
      points of religion; to which, however, the sanction of the legislature
      could not be procured, and the plan was dropped. He has been residing in
      Gloucester-place, where he has furnished a house in a style of modern
      elegance, and, so far as appearances are concerned, indulges in several
      luxuries; but his domestic habits are still the same, and his table seldom
      labours with the pressure of heavy dishes. He has one nephew, to whom he
      allows, or did allow, 300L. per year; has but few other claims of family;
      and it is probable that his immense wealth will be bequeathed to
      charitable purposes, as the great object of his ambition is to leave his
      name to posterity as the founder of some public institution. To that
      passion may, perhaps, be attributed the purchase of Fonthill Abbey; for
      his age and infirmities totally unfit him for the enjoyment of such <span
      class="pagenum">[422]</span> a place. He is diminutive in person, and by
      no means prepossessing in appearance; his dress has all the qualities of
      the antique to recommend it; and his domestic expenditure, until the last
      year, has not exceeded 200L. per annum, although his possessions, money in
      the funds, and capital in trade, are said to amount to a million and a
      half!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, he is an oddity indeed," exclaimed Tallyho, "and I think he ought to
      be exhibited as the eighth wonder of the world."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly we cannot look upon the like every day: there are instances, it
      is said, of his having returned letters merely because the postage was not
      paid, although he has, on more than one or two occasions, given away, at
      once, for praise-worthy purposes, ten and twenty thousand pounds."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Then," rejoined Sparkle, "he is a trump, and deserves to be respected:&mdash;but
      where are we bound to?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay," replied Tom, "I have no choice upon the subject."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nor I neither," said Gayfield, stepping smartly up to him, and catching
      him by the hand&mdash;"so come along&mdash;I'll guide you to good quarters
      and comfortable accommodation.&mdash;Dine with me, and we will have a cut
      in at whist.&mdash;What say you?"
    </p>
    <p>
      This proposition was acceded to, and away they went to Gayfield's
      apartments, where a very hospitable and friendly entertainment was
      presented to them with every mark of a hearty welcome. In the evening, the
      glass circulated freely, and cards being introduced, they enjoyed an
      agreeable and pleasant game, at which nothing particular occurred; after
      which they jumped into a rattler, and were conveyed home, very well
      satisfied with every attention they had received from Gayfield, except the
      eternal rattle of his tongue.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0019" id="link42HCH0019">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXXIII
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "The proper study of mankind in food."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[423]</span> Next morning, while our party were at
      breakfast, who should make his appearance but Gayfield, whose elasticity
      of spirits, and volubility of tongue, appeared, if possible, to have
      acquired an additional impulse of action.
    </p>
    <p>
      "My dear fellow," he commenced, addressing Bob, "as you are so soon about
      to leave us, I feel anxious you should carry with you all the information
      possible on that interesting subject, Life in London. Long as your stay in
      the Metropolis has been, still, where the subjects are so varying&mdash;so
      ever varying&mdash;so multifarious&mdash;and the field for observation so
      unlimited, it is impossible but that something must have escaped your
      notice.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have been scribbling to a friend in the country, whom I occasionally
      endeavour to amuse with "Sketches of Scenes in London;" and, as I flatter
      myself, it exhibits something of novelty both in character, situation, and
      incident, you shall hear it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dear Dick&mdash;I told you that I was about to have the honour of being
      introduced to tin; celebrated Dr. Kitchen. 'He was a man, take him for all
      in all, I ne'er shall look upon his like again.' It was evidently one of
      'Nature's worst journeymen' that made him; for he has not a limb which
      appears to appertain to his body; they look precisely as if they were
      purchased at an auction. This little man, who seems born to be 'girded at'
      by jokers of all classes, sharing the prevalent rage for notoriety, has
      written two works, one in the character of a <i>gourmand</i>, and the
      other of a musician. But not content with the fame he has thus acquired,
      he has persuaded himself that he is an excellent singer. Nay, it was given
      out lately, by his own concurrence, that he intended to sing at a concert
      at the Argyle Rooms; and although he has no more voice than a <span
      class="pagenum">[424]</span> cat, he was under the full impression that
      his Majesty, at the conclusion of the last court-day, intended to call
      upon him for a song. The Doctor asked me and Caustic to one of his
      literary dinners; and as T have supplied you with a sketch of a cook-shop
      <i>gourmand</i>, I make no apology for shewing up a more elevated class of
      <i>gastronomes</i>, by reporting the Doctor's speech on this occasion.&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "'On entering the world, the acuteness of my palate and vigour of
      digestion disposed me to conceive that I should excel in the fraternal
      sciences of eating and drinking; and I entertained no doubt but my vapid
      organs would be considerably improved by frequent exercise. Taste has
      various departments&mdash;painting, architecture, sculpture, &amp;c.; but
      impressed with the conviction that my only office in this world was to
      invent new dishes and devour them, I collected all the culinary writers
      from Caxton to Mons. Ude, of modern celebrity. As science proceeds by
      gradual advances, I frequented the better sort of coffee-houses, to
      initiate myself in the correct nomenclature of different dishes, and to
      judge of their skilful preparation. These, to be sure, are proper schools
      for a beginner; but I soon discovered that these victuallers, on account
      of their numerous visitants, who are disposed to eat much and pay little,
      could not afford to furnish the most costly and exquisite <i>entrees</i>.
      Sometimes I found that the same turkey had been twice subjected to the
      spit; a sole that had been broiled the day before, underwent the operation
      of frying on the following. Cold meat appeared as hot pie, with many other
      curious and ingenious devices. Then the wine was so adulterated,
      compelled, like a melancholic patient, to look old before its time, and
      fitted, like a pauper, with a ready-made coat perceptibly impregnated with
      bad brandy, and tasted of every thing but the grape, that, in about six
      months, I sickened, and no longer frequented these tasteless and
      inhospitable retreats for the hungry.
    </p>
    <p>
      "'To view the ordinary arrangements of a modern dinner is a "sorry sight:"&mdash;a
      dozen articles placed at once upon the table&mdash;then, on the removal of
      the covers, comes the ferocious onset; some tremulous paralytic serving
      the soup, and scattering it in all directions, excepting into the plate
      where it ought to be delivered; <span class="pagenum">[425]</span> then an
      unhandy dandy mutilates the fish by cutting it in a wrong direction; here,
      an officious ignoramus tears asunder the members of a fowl as coarsely as
      the four horses dragged Ravillac, limb from limb; there, another simpleton
      notching a tongue into dissimilar slices, while a purblind coxcomb
      confounds the different sauces, pouring anchovy on pigeon-pie, and parsley
      and butter on roast-beef. All these barbarisms are unknown at my table.
    </p>
    <p>
      "'Perhaps one of the most gratifying things in nature, far beyond any
      thing hitherto conveyed by landscape or historical painting, is to behold
      my guests in silence sip their wine. As the glass is held up, the eye and
      the orient liquor reciprocally sparkle; its bouquet expands the nostrils,
      elevates the eyebrow to admiration, and composes the lips to a smile. When
      its crystal receptacle, which is as thin as Indian paper, (for observe, to
      use a thick wine-glass is to drink with a gag in your mouth) touches the
      lips, they become comprest, to allow the thinnest possible stream to
      enter, that its flavour be thoroughly ascertained, and that successive
      perceptions of palateable flavour may terminate in the gulph of ecstacy.
    </p>
    <p>
      "'I am fully aware that the pleasures of the table cannot be indulged
      without some hazard to the constitution; it is therefore the business of
      my serious reflections to counteract the invasions of disease, and provide
      timely remedies for its attack. A gold box is always placed on the table
      with the desert, containing a store of pills, which are of a very moving
      quality and speedy operation, called "Peristaltic persuaders." In an
      adjoining room, there is a basin, as large as an ordinary washing-tub,
      with a copper of chamomile-tea; and a cupper is engaged to be in constant
      attendance till the guests depart.
    </p>
    <p>
      "'Gentlemen, I once became a member of a fashionable dinner-club, managed
      by a superintending committee, who purchased their own wine, and engaged a
      culinary artist of established reputation. This club was a diversified
      assemblage, consisting of some sprigs of the nobility and a few old
      standards; several members of Parliament, who became very troublesome by
      repeating the speeches that had been uttered in the house, and were,
      besides, always attempting to reform the club. But this was less offensive
      to me than others, as I make it a <span class="pagenum">[426]</span> rule
      never to attend to conversation unless it relates to improvements in
      cookery. The remainder of our club was composed of a few hungry querulous
      lawyers, two or three doctors, who had increased the means of gratifying
      their appetites by destroying the digestive faculties of their patients.
      There is nothing permanent in the world; therefore, in about two years,
      the club dwindled away; a set of rascally economists complained of
      expense; the cook, a very honest man and skilful professor, was accused of
      peculation by the reformers, and turned adrift for modestly demonstrating
      that he could not make turtle out of tripe, nor convert sprats into red
      mullet. Several members moved off without paying their arrears. The
      managing committee disposed of the premises, plate, furniture, and wines,
      and pocketed the money; and thus the club was dissolved.'
    </p>
    <p>
      "It was on this occasion that the Doctor proposed his celebrated
      'committee of taste,' with the proceedings of which I shall, perhaps, have
      occasion, at some future time, to make you acquainted."
    </p>
    <p>
      Gayfield's humorous epistle amused the party much, and Bob felt
      complimented by the attention paid to the finish of his studies of
      Metropolitan Life and Manners. The fine appearance of the morning
      determined them on a stroll through the leading thoroughfares, as it would
      afford Tallyho the opportunity of completing such purchases as were
      necessary prior to his departure for the country. In passing Covent
      Garden, their attention was attracted by a numerous and grotesque
      assemblage, in which they soon mixed, and were highly diverted by the
      following whimsical exhibition, displaying the astonishing sagacity and
      feelings of the monkey species. An itinerant showman, who for some time
      past exhibited two dancing monkeys about the town, had pitched his stage
      in a part of the Market. When his poles and cords were fixed, and the
      monkeys in their full dress were about to commence, the celebrated flying
      pieman came by with his basket, and, having furnished himself with a
      bottle of gin, he leaped upon the stage, and treated the showman and one
      of the monkeys with a glass each; the other monkey however declined taking
      any, and was leaping about to avoid it; but the pieman served out the
      second glass, and the former monkey took his with apparent gladness. The
      pieman again seized the monkey <span class="pagenum">[427]</span> who
      declined it before, but he still scorned to take any. The by-standers
      called out to the pieman to throw it at him, and the pieman flung it in
      his face. Instantly, the monkey who drank the gin, and who was half drunk
      by this time, to resent the injury, sprang upon the pieman, seized him by
      the arm, and would have torn that piece of the flesh entirely out, only
      for its master, who with much difficulty made him relinquish his hold. The
      pieman was dangerously wounded, and was carried to a doctor's shop to get
      his arm dressed.
    </p>
    <p>
      Passing on, the next object of attention was the Police office, Bow
      Street. Here the party determined to rest for a short time, and after
      listening to several uninteresting cases relating to hackney coach fares,
      they were at length rewarded for their lost time and patience, by a case,
      in which the tables were completely turned upon Mr. Jehu, and which we
      hope will act as a caution to others of the profession who have a taste
      for swearing and abuse.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link42HCH0020" id="link42HCH0020">
       <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXXIV
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          In cities, foul example on most minds
          Begets its likeness. Rank abundance breeds
          In gross and pamper'd cities sloth and lust,
          And wantonness and gluttonous excess.
          In cities, vice is hidden with more ease,
          Or seen with least reproach; and virtue, taught
          By frequent lapse, can hope no triumph there
          Beyond th' achievement of successful flight.
          I do confess them nurs'ries of the arts,
          In which they flourish most; where, in the beams
          Of warm encouragement, and in the eye
          Of public note, they reach their perfect size.
          Such London is, by taste and wealth proclaim'd
          The fairest capital of all the world;
          By riot and incontinence the worst.
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[428]</span> The arrival of the day for separation
      was anticipated, and the morning arose upon Dashall with a gloomy aspect,
      originating in the temper of his mind; for he was by no means pleased with
      the adventure of Laconic, which operated to prevent his departure with his
      friends. Sparkle and Tallyho were, however, upon the alert, and determined
      on pursuing their original intentions. Tom had none of his usual vivacity
      about him. In vain he tried to muster up his spirits, his attempts at wit
      were pointless and did not escape the notice of Sparkle, who secretly
      enjoyed his chagrin, feeling assured that as it was created by their
      departure, he would not delay joining them longer than necessity
      absolutely required. "Why how now, Tom," said Sparkle, "you are out, and
      seem to be in queer stirrups, as if you had an uneasy saddle. You seem to
      part with your cousin as a young man would with the beloved of his heart."
      "I confess I am disappointed," replied Tom.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          "But since grieving's a folly,
          Why let us be jolly."
</pre>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[429]</span> "I am determined to spend the last
      moments with you&mdash;so start off the rattle traps, the upper toggery's
      and travelling caps, we will take a last turn together, and a parting
      dinner and glass of wine at the Bull and Mouth, and I'll warrant you I
      won't be long behind. All I regret is, I can't accompany you at present."
      Upon this intimation, the remainder of their luggage and clothing were
      despatched by a servant, with an order to provide a good dinner for them
      at half past five.
    </p>
    <p>
      Things were now all m a fair train, and this business being despatched,
      all was anxiety for the arrival of the moment, though with different
      sensations; Sparkle to meet his wife, Bob to return to his native home,
      and Tom displeased and disappointed in every way, although he determined
      to be as agreeable as he could under existing circumstances. Time however
      being heavy on their hands, but as Bob was anxious to make a few more
      purchases for presents on his return home, they started early for the Bull
      and Mouth.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You have now," said Dashall to his cousin, "had some experience in REAL
      LIFE IN LONDON, and I have reason to think you will not return to the
      country a worse man than you left it. Variety is charming, and the change
      from one to the other will give additional zest and pleasure."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have reason," replied Bob, "to feel myself under a very particular
      obligation to you for the excellent care, kindness and attention, as well
      as information I have derived, and it cannot easily be obliterated from my
      recollection; but I at the same time must observe, that I have no very
      great relish for London as a continual residence. When you arrive in the
      country I will try if I cannot be as explanatory and amusing. At all
      events I expect you will give me the trial.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I'll give you a chevy over the hills, a pop at the pheasants, and a pick
      at them afterwards; besides which, you know, we have some very pretty
      lasses in our neighbourhood, to whom you have already been introduced, and
      to whom you shall be better known."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I know, I know," said Tom, in a hurried manner, which strongly indicated
      some other motive for regret than that which arose from mere
      disappointment at not being a partner in their journey, and from which
      Sparkle did not fail to draw an inference, that some roguish eyes had been
      darting their beams into the bosom of his friend.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[430]</span> "I see how it is now," cried Sparkle,
      "Tom is not cut but caught, and I'll sport a fifty, that the Evergreen Tom
      Dashall, of London, will be transplanted to entwine with some virgin
      blossom of the country, before another twelve months."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tom was silent.
    </p>
    <p>
      Tallyho smiled in accordance with the sentiment of Sparkle, and declared
      he would not take the bet.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It's of very little use," cried Dashall, recovering himself after a short
      pause, "I may as well make a merit of necessity. I confess I have a sort
      of a liking for the gay and sprightly Lydia Forcetext, the parson's
      daughter; and if&mdash;but curse if's&mdash;I hate if, I wish there was no
      such word in the English language."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha, ha, ha!" exclaimed Sparkle, "I thought we should find you out&mdash;but
      come, I think I may say there is not much for you to fear&mdash;if you are
      but serious."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is a serious subject, and if we continue, this conversation I shall
      grow downright sentimental&mdash;so no more at present&mdash;we have not
      much time to spare&mdash;and as I mean to make use of every minute, let us
      look around for any novelty that may occur before your departure."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well," said Sparkle, "I must say I do not know of any thing so new to me
      as the very subject we were upon&mdash;but as you wish it dropped&mdash;why
      e'en let it be so&mdash;I have no desire to be either particular or
      personal."
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          And as London's the object we've long had in view,
          As long as we can, we'll that object pursue.
          And as visions we know have been for an old grudge meant,
          We'll make ours a view&mdash;not a vision of&mdash;judgment.
</pre>
    <p>
      "Good," said Tom, "and as the lines are extemporaneous we will not be
      over-nice in the criticism."
    </p>
    <p>
      "At least," continued Sparkle, "you will admit it is better to be a bad
      poet&mdash;than a bad man."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Agreed&mdash;agreed," replied Tom.&mdash;"But who in the name of wonder
      have we here&mdash;the emperor of hair-dressers and head-cutters turned
      print-seller&mdash;Why, this was Money's, where I have, before now, had a
      clip."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[431]</span> "Nay, nay," said Sparkle, "don't be in
      a hurry to form your judgment&mdash;his ingenuity is at work, and really
      it will be worth while to have a cut all round; for I find he gives a
      portrait, displaying the most fashionable Parisian dresses to every
      customer. Some you know present bank, or, more properly speaking, flush
      notes upon these occasions; but certainly this is a less exceptionable
      plan.&mdash;What say you?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart:" and into the <i>Magazin de Mode</i> they marched; to
      which they were welcomed by the artist himself&mdash;ushered up stairs
      with all due politeness, and in two minutes Sparkle was under his
      incomparable hands, while Tom and Bob amused themselves with a peep at the
      newspapers and the Gazette of Fashion.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Fine morning, gentlemen," said the friseur.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Is there any news?" asked Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We have the Paris papers, Sir, regularly, and a constant supply of
      drawings of the newest fashion."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am more for domestic or home news," continued Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not aware, Sir, of any thing particular&mdash;oh, yes; I recollect I was
      told last night, over at the Haunch, that the mermaid is discovered."
    </p>
    <p>
      "What," said Tom, "discover a mermaid over a haunch!" laying down the
      paper.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Beg pardon, Sir, beg pardon, a trifling mistake, Sir&mdash;nothing more&mdash;I
      usually pass a recreative hour, after my daily studies, at the Haunch of
      Venison, over the way: the landlord is an intelligent, accommodating, and
      agreeable sort of man, and we have many gentlemen of considerable
      consequence, both literary and scientific, who meet there of an evening to
      pass a convivial hour&mdash;to hear and impart the news; and, Sir, as I
      was saying, the mermaid is stated to be a fine hoax upon the credulity of
      John Bull, being nothing more than the body or skin of a smoke-dried old
      woman, ingeniously connected with the tail of a fish. I don't vouch for
      the truth of the report, I only state what I hear, and can only assert
      with confidence what I am acquainted with in my own business."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I suspected the mermaid from the first," answered Tom, "I thought there
      was some deceit in it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is a great deal of deceit in the world, Sir," replied the active
      clipper.&mdash;"A little Circassian cream, Sir&mdash;acknowledged to be
      the best article ever produced for the preservation and restoration of
      hair."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Certainly," said Sparkle.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[432]</span> In this way our friends obtained a
      portion of amusement, and a Corinthian clip from the intelligent and
      communicative Mr. Money, of Fleet Street notoriety, in return for which he
      touched their coin.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now," said Dashall, "we will make the best of our way and just call, by
      way of taking a lunch, among the lads of Newgate Market. There is a house
      where I have been before, in which we can have some very fine home-brewed
      ale, &amp;c; and besides, according to the landlord's advertisements, he
      has opened an academy, and gives instruction in the art of brewing. The
      College of Physicians is just opposite, and I suppose this wag of a
      landlord has taken the hint, and opposed his beer to their physic&mdash;perhaps
      you may wish to carry his valuable receipt into the country with you?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have no inclination to turn brewer," replied Sparkle, "but I must
      confess I like the idea of a little genuine beer&mdash;free from the
      poisonous ingredients of the public brewer."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And so do I," continued Tallyho. "Come along, then," said Tom, "the Bell
      in Warwick Lane is the shop, where you may be served to a shaving." In
      passing along Warwick Lane, Bob observed he thought his friend was leading
      him through a not very agreeable neighbourhood.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This place is filled with slaughter-houses, and is to be sure a great
      nuisance to the City; yet such places are necessary, therefore bear up a
      few minutes, and you will have comfortable house-room and agreeable
      refreshment." Entering the Bell, they were met by the landlord of the
      house, a round-faced, good-natured, real John-Bull-looking man, who
      knowing his customer Dashall, immediately ushered them into the
      coffee-room, where being supplied with stout and mutton-chops in high
      perfection, they enjoyed themselves with their regale. This done, they had
      an opportunity of looking about them.
    </p>
    <p>
      In one corner sat two or three tip-top salesmen of the market, conversing
      on the price of meat, while they were devouring a succession of
      rump-steaks with most voracious and insatiable appetites. In another was a
      hungry author, bargaining with a bookseller of Paternoster Row, for the
      sale of a manuscript, by which he expected to realise a dinner. While near
      them was an undertaker and a master-builder, vociferating at each other
      for interference <span class="pagenum">[433]</span> with their respective
      trades, and so far attracting the attention of the bookseller from the
      work of the author, that he wished, from the bottom of his heart, "that
      one would build a coffin to bury the other:" while the salesmen laughed so
      loud at the observations of the controversialists, as almost to make them
      wish the subject dead without the hope of resurrection.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bob liked the stout&mdash;ordered a replenish, and asked the landlord to
      partake.
    </p>
    <p>
      "With all my heart&mdash;gentlemen&mdash;good health&mdash;real malt and
      hops, gentlemen&mdash;nothing else&mdash;all brewed under my own eye&mdash;good
      ordinary at two&mdash;excellent fare&mdash;good treatment&mdash;comfortable
      beds&mdash;happy to see you at all times at the Bell brewery."
    </p>
    <p>
      Having proceeded on their journey they shortly found themselves near Bull
      and Mouth Street.
    </p>
    <p>
      On their way to the Bull and Mouth, Sparkle made a proposal, which was
      cordially acquiesced in by Dashall and his cousin, and a mutual pledge was
      given to carry it into effect: this was no other than an agreement to take
      a trip over to Dublin in the course of the ensuing winter, in order to
      acquire some knowledge of LIFE IN IRELAND.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I have lately," said Sparkle, "been almost convulsed with laughter, even
      to the danger of a locked-jaw, by the perusal of a work under this title.
      The author, nephew to a late Irish chancellor, is an old acquaintance;
      added to which, and the genuine irresistible humour that runs throughout
      the work, I feel determined to visit, and have ocular demonstration of
      some of the places where these scenes of humour are so admirably
      described."
    </p>
    <p>
      On entering Bull and Mouth Street&mdash;"Bless me," cried Bob, "this is a
      very confined street for such an inn."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Hoy," cried a coachman, rattling along the street in double quick time.
    </p>
    <p>
      "By your leave," bawled a porter with a heavy chest on his back.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We shall certainly either be knocked down, or run over," exclaimed
      Tallyho.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never fear," said Tom, "do but keep your ogles in action, all's right
      enough, and we shall soon be safely housed out of the bustle; but before
      we enter the house we will just cast our eyes about us. On the right,
      after passing the gate, is the coach-offices for receiving, booking, <span
      class="pagenum">[434]</span> and delivering parcels, and taking places for
      passengers by the various vehicles which start from this place. On the
      left is the hotel and coffee-house, where every refreshment and
      accommodation may be obtained. The remaining part of the building,
      together with several others adjoining, which almost occupy the whole of
      this side of the street, are devoted to stables, waggon and coach-houses,
      and out-offices."
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link4image-0005" id="link4image-0005">
       <!--  IMG --> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img src="images/page434.jpg" alt="Page434.jpg Bull and Mouth Inn "
      width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      "It is an extensive concern then," said Tallyho, "though it stands in such
      an out of the way obscure situation."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why you are already aware that situation is not absolutely necessary to
      success in all cases in London," was the reply. "The extensive circulation
      of a name or a sign are sometimes sufficient to obtain business;&mdash;and
      who has not heard of the Bull and Mouth, or the name of Willan&mdash;from
      the former runs a considerable number of long stages and mail coaches,
      daily and nightly, the proprietor being a contractor with Government; and
      upon one occasion it is said, he was in treaty to supply an immense
      quantity of horses to convey troops to the coast, on the threatened
      invasion by Buonaparte, so that the epithet patriotic might properly be
      applied to him. He however is lately deceased, and supposed to have left a
      considerable fortune.&mdash;But come, dinner is ready&mdash;now for the
      parting meal, and then heaven speed ye to your destined homes."
    </p>
    <p>
      After partaking of a hearty dinner, and a bottle or two of generous wine&mdash;"Come,"
      said Dashall, "it is time we are alive and look out, for the yard is all
      in a bustle; here are lots of coaches preparing for a start, so let us get
      out, look around, and see what is going forward."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this intimation, they sallied forth to the yard, where the confusion
      created by the arrival of one coach heavily laden, and the preparation of
      two for departure, afforded a scene for a quiet contemplatist, which
      however it is not easy to describe.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Coachman," said an antiquated lady, just alighting, "I paid my fare."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes Ma'am, that's all fair," said coachy.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mind how you hand my dear little boy out of the coach, poor little fellow
      he is quite dizzy with riding."
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[435]</span> "I thinks as how you had better have
      brought a man with you, for you want taking care of yourself," grumbled
      coachy, as he handed the young one out.&mdash;"There he is Ma'am&mdash;stand
      upon your pins, my man."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come Charley&mdash;Oh coachy you have got my box in your boot."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye, aye, Ma'am, I know it, I wish my boot was in your box&mdash;here it
      is Ma'am."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Stand bye," said a Jack Tar, "let's have a little sea room, and no
      squalls."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Coachy, what a rude fellow that is, he says I squalls."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never mind him, Ma'am, he is as rough as the element he belongs to&mdash;thank
      ye Ma'am&mdash;that's the time o' day," pocketing a half-crown which she
      had just given him.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here Bill, take this lady's luggage out of the way."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Just going off, Sir&mdash;do you go by me?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," replied Sparkle, "how many have you inside?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Only four, Sir, and you two make up the number&mdash;all ready&mdash;Jem,
      bear up the leaders."
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment a hackney coach stopped at the gate, and out jumps a
      gentleman who immediately entered into conversation with the coachman.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Can't do it, Sir," said coachy,&mdash;"all full&mdash;I might manage to
      give you an outside passage to be sure."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, well, I will make that do, perhaps you can afford an inside birth
      part of the journey."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I'll see what I can do, but can't promise&mdash;now gentlemen."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here coachman," said the person desirous of obtaining a passage, tipping
      coachy some money.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Aye, aye, that's the way to look at the matter."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time Tom discovered it was no other than Van Butchell,{1} whom he
      observed to Bob, there was little doubt had been summoned on some
      desperate case, and must go at all events.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     1 It is fortunate for the rising generation, that the late
     Martin Van Butchell, not more celebrated for his
     eccentricities than bis utility, has not departed from the
     world without leaving an able successor to his practice.
     Edwin Martin Van Butchell is now almost as well known as his
     late father. Such indeed is the estimation of his abilities,
     that a large society of journeymen tailors have entered into
     a weekly subscription among themselves, in order that their
     afflicted brethren may have the benefit of his practical
     knowledge and abilities.
</pre>
    <p>
      "Now, gentlemen, you brush in and I will brush on. Shut the door Dick, all
      right&mdash;ya&mdash;hip."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Adieu, dear Tom," exclaimed Bob.
    </p>
    <p>
      <span class="pagenum">[436]</span> "Zounds," exclaimed Tom, "the coachman
      will hardly allow him to say good bye&mdash;well, the dearest friends must
      part, so good bye, heaven protect you both."
    </p>
    <p>
      By this time the vehicle was out of the yard.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I don't like it," continued Tom, soliloquizing with himself; "but,
      however, as I have bid them adieu for the present, the best thing I can do
      is to arrange Laconic's affairs, and then bid adieu to <i>Life in London</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      The End
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II., by
Pierce Egan

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK REAL LIFE IN LONDON ***

***** This file should be named 20484-h.htm or 20484-h.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/4/8/20484/

Produced by David Widger

Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.

Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.



*** START: FULL LICENSE ***

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
http://gutenberg.org/license).


Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works

1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.  See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.

1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.

1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.

1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.

1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that

- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."

- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
     License.  You must require such a user to return or
     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
     Project Gutenberg-tm works.

- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
     of receipt of the work.

- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.

1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.

1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.

1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.


Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm

Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.


Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.

The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
page at http://pglaf.org

For additional contact information:
     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
     Chief Executive and Director
     gbnewby@pglaf.org


Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit http://pglaf.org

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate


Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.

Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.


Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.


Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:

     http://www.gutenberg.org

This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.


</pre>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
  </body>
</html>
generated by cgit v1.2.3 (git 2.25.1) at 2026-03-20 21:34:05 +0000