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diff --git a/44578-8.txt b/44578-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c5eaf1a..0000000 --- a/44578-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,37678 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bentley's Miscellany, Volume I, by Various - -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: Bentley's Miscellany, Volume I - -Author: Various - -Contributor: Richard Bentley - -Editor: Charles Dickens - -Release Date: January 4, 2014 [EBook #44578] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY, VOLUME I *** - - - - -Produced by Paul Marshall, Jason Isbell and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - [** Transcriber's Note: - The [oe] ligature has been replaced with simply "oe". - The cross symbols have been replaced by [cross]. - Greek words have been transliterated, and enclosed in square - brackets, e.g. [Greek: kala reethra] - In the original, the Signs of the Zodiac song on page 397 contains - astrological symbols after each mention of the signs of the - zodiac. The symbols have been omitted in this text version. ] - - - - - [Illustration: GEORGE COLMAN, The Younger] - - - - BENTLEY'S - MISCELLANY - - - - VOL. I. - - - LONDON: - RICHARD BENTLEY, - NEW BURLINGTON STREET. - 1837. - - LONDON: - PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, - Dormet Street, Fleet Street. - - - - - EDITOR'S ADDRESS - ON THE COMPLETION OF THE - FIRST VOLUME. - -At the end of a theatrical season it is customary for the manager to -step forward, and, in as few words as may be, to say how very much -obliged he feels for all past favours, and how very ready he is to incur -fresh obligations. - -With a degree of candour which few managers would display, we cheerfully -confess that we have been fairly inundated with _orders_ during our six -months' campaign; but so liberal are we, notwithstanding, that we place -many of the very first authors of the day on our free list, and invite -them to write for our establishment just as much paper as they think -proper. - -We have produced a great variety of novelties, some of which we humbly -hope may become stock pieces, and all of which we may venture to say -have been must successful; and, although we are not subject to the -control of a licenser, we have eschewed everything political, personal, -or ill-natured, with perhaps as much care as we could possibly have -shown, even had we been under the watchful eye of the Lord Chamberlain -himself. - -We shall open our Second Volume, ladies and gentlemen, on the first -day of July, One thousand eight hundred and thirty-seven, when we -shall have the pleasure of submitting a great variety of entirely new -pieces for your judgment and approval. The company will be numerous, -first-rate, and complete. The scenery will continue to be supplied by -the creative pencil of Mr. George Cruikshank; the whole of the extensive -and beautiful machinery will be, as heretofore, under the immediate -superintendence of Mr. Samuel Bentley, of Dorset-street, Fleet-street; -and Mr. Richard Bentley, of New Burlington-street, has kindly consented -to preside over the Treasury department, where he has already conducted -himself with uncommon ability. - -The stage management will again be confided, ladies and gentlemen, to -the humble individual with the short name, who has now the honour to -address you, and who hopes, for very many years to come, to appear -before you in the same capacity. Permit him to add in sober seriousness, -that it has been the constant and unremitting endeavour of himself and -the proprietor to render this undertaking worthy of your patronage. That -they have not altogether failed in their attempt, its splendid success -sufficiently demonstrates; that they have no intention of relaxing in -their efforts, its future Volumes we trust will abundantly testify. - - "BOZ." - _London,_ - _June, 1837._ - - - - - CONTENTS - OF THE FIRST VOLUME. - Page - - Songs of the Month--January, by "Father Prout;" 1 - February, by Dr. Maginn; 105 - March, by Samuel Lover; 325 - April, by W. H. Ainsworth; 429 - May and June, by J. A. Wade 533 - - Prologue, by Dr. Maginn 2 - Opening Chaunt 6 - Recollections of the late George Colman, by Theodore Hook 7 - The "Monstre" Balloon 17 - Handy Andy, by Samuel Lover 20,169,373 - Legend of Manor Hall, by the Author of "Headlong Hall" 29 - Terence O'Shaughnessy, by the Author of "Stories of Waterloo" 33 - The Sabine Farmer's Serenade, by Father Prout 45 - Public Life of Mr. Tulrumble, by Boz 49 - The Hot Wells of Clifton, by Father Prout 63 - The Marine Ghost, by the Author of "Rattlin the Reefer" 65 - Old Age and Youth, by T. Haynes Bayly 79 - An Evening of Visits, by the Author of "The Pilot" 80 - Who are you?--Metastasio, Fontenelle, and Samuel Lover 88 - Metropolitan Men of Science 89 - Kyan's Patent--the Nine Muses and the Dry-rot 93 - The Original of "Not a Drum was heard," by Father Prout 96 - A Gossip with some old English Poets, by C. Ollier 98 - The Rising Periodical; Mr. Verdant's Account of the last - aërial ascent, by T. Haynes Bayly 101 - An Italian Anecdote, by the Author of "Hajji Baba" 103 - Oliver Twist, or the Parish Boy's Progress, by Boz 105,218,326,430 - Richie Barter 116 - Plunder Creek, by the Author of "Tales of an Antiquary" 121 - The Spectre 131 - Authors and Actors, a dramatic sketch 132 - A Gossip with Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, by Hamilton Reynolds 138 - A Lament over the Bannister 151 - Theatrical Advertisement Extraordinary 152 - The Abbess and Duchess, by T. Haynes Bayly 153 - Edward Saville, by C. Whitehead 155 - A Fragment of Romance 165 - Lines on John Bannister, by Sir George Rose 168 - Lines to a Lyric and Artist 177 - Biographical Sketch of Richardson, by W. Jerdan 178 - Paddy Blake's Echo, by J. A. Wade 186 - Recollections of Childhood, by the author of "Headlong Hall" 187 - Epigrams 190,409,493,508 - 540,564,583,590 - Family Stories, by Thomas Ingoldsby: - No. I. Spectre of Tappington 191 - II. Legend of Hamilton Tighe 266 - III. Grey Dolphin 341 - IV. The Squire's Story 529 - V. The Execution, a Sporting Anecdote 561 - The Wide-awake Club 208 - A Remnant of the Time of Izaak Walton 230 - The "Original" Dragon, by C. J. Davids 231 - A Passage in the Life of Beaumarchais, by George Hogarth 233 - Mars and Venus, by C. F. Le Gros 247 - An Evening Meditation 250 - The Devil and Johnny Dixon, - by the Author of "Stories of Waterloo" 251 - A Merry Christmas, by T. Haynes Bayly 260 - Nights at Sea, by the Old Sailor: - No. I. The Captain's Cabin 269 - II. The White Squall 474 - III. The Chase and the Forecastle Yarn 621 - Remains of Hajji Baba, by the Author of "Zohrab" 280,364,487 - The Portrait Gallery, by the Author of "The Bee Hive" 286,442 - The Sorrows of Life 290 - Stray Chapters, by Boz: - No. I. The Pantomime of Life 291 - II. Particulars concerning a Lion 515 - Memoirs of Samuel Foote 298 - The Two Butlers of Kilkenny 306 - The Little Bit of Tape, by Richard Johns 313 - Hippothanasia, or the last of Tails, - a lamentable Tale, by W. Jerdan 319 - The Grand Cham of Tartary, by C. J. Davids 339 - The Dumb Waiter 340 - Friar Laurence and Juliet, by T. Haynes Bayly 354 - Unpublished Letters of Addison 356 - Sonnet to a Fog, by Egerton Webbe 371 - Biography of Aunt Jemima, by F. H. Rankin 382 - Scenes in the Life of a Gambler, by Captain Medwin 387 - Les Poissons d'Avril; a Gastronomical Chaunt, by Father Prout 397 - The Anatomy of Courage, by Prince Puckler Muskau 398 - Song of the Cover 402 - The Cobbler of Dort 403 - Hero and Leander, by T. Chapman 410 - The Admirable Crichton 416 - Memoirs of Sheridan 419 - Summer Night's Reverie, by J. A. Wade 428 - Peter Plumbago's Correspondence 448 - The Blue Wonder 450 - The Youth's Vade Mecum, by C. Whitehead 461 - A Visit to the Madrigal Society 465 - Love and Poverty 469 - Reflections in a Horse-pond 470 - Inscription for a Cemetery 473 - The Useful Young Man, by W. Collier 485 - A London Fog 492 - Shakspeare Papers, by Dr. Maginn: - No. I. Sir John Falstaff 495 - II. Jaques 550 - Steam Trip to Hamburgh 509 - Legend of Bohis Head 519 - Bob Burns and Beranger; Sam Lover and Ovidius Naso; - by "Father Prout" 525 - Periodical Literature of the North American Indians 534 - An Epitaph 540 - Darby the Swift, by J. A. Wade 541 - The Romance of a Day, by "The Bashful Irishman" 565 - The Man with the Tuft, by T. Haynes Bayly 576 - The Minister's Fate; from "Recollections of H. T." 577 - Love in the City, by the Author of "Stories of Waterloo" 584 - Mrs. Jennings 591 - Hints for an Historical Play, by Thomas Ingoldsby 597 - John Pooledoune, the Victim of Improvements, by W. Jerdan 599 - The Legend of Mount Pilate, by G. Dance 608 - Glorvina, the Maid of Meath, by J. Sheridan Knowles 614 - Ode upon the Birth-day of the Princess Victoria, by J. A. Wade 620 - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS. - - Portrait of George Colman _Frontispiece_ - Handy Andy, No. I. by S. Lover Page 20 - Procession at the Inauguration of Mr. Tulrumble - as Mayor of Mudfog, by George Cruikshank 49 - Who are you? by S. Lover 88 - Oliver Twist, by George Cruikshank 105 - Handy Andy, No. II. by S. Lover 169 - Spectre of Tappington, by Buss 191 - Oliver Twist, No. II. by George Cruikshank 218 - Portrait of Samuel Foote, by Sir Joshua Reynolds 298 - The Little Bit of Tape, by Phiz 313 - Oliver Twist, No. III. by George Cruikshank 326 - Portrait of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, by Ozias Humphreys 419 - Oliver Twist, No. IV. by George Cruikshank 430 - Nights at Sea, by George Cruikshank 474 - The Romance of a Day, by George Cruikshank 565 - Nights at Sea, by George Cruikshank 621 - - - - - BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. - - - - - OUR SONG OF THE MONTH. - No. I. January, 1837. - - - THE BOTTLE OF ST. JANUARIUS. - - I. - In the land of the citron and myrtle, we're told - That the blood of a MARTYR is kept in a phial, - Which, though all the year round, it lie torpid and cold, - Yet grasp but the crystal, 'twill _warm_ the first trial ... - Be it fiction or truth, with your favourite FACT, - O, profound LAZZARONI! I seek not to quarrel; - But indulge an old priest who would simply extract - From your legend, a lay--from your martyr, a moral. - - II. - Lo! with icicled beard JANUARIUS comes! - And the blood in his veins is all frozen and gelid, - And he beareth a bottle; but TORPOR benumbs - Every limb of the saint:--Would ye wish to dispel it? - With the hand of good-fellowship grasp the hoar sage-- - Soon his joints will relax and his pulse will beat quicker; - Grasp the _bottle_ he brings--'twill grow warm. I'll engage, - Till the frost of each heart lies dissolved in the LIQUOR! - - _Probatum est._ P. PROUT. - - WATER-GRASS-HILL, _Kal. Januarii_. - - - - - PROLOGUE. - - For us, and our Miscellany, - Here stooping to your clemency, - We beg your hearing patiently. - SHAKSPEARE, _with a difference_. - -"Doctor," said a young gentleman to Dean Swift, "I intend to set up for -a wit." - -"Then," said the Doctor, "I advise you to sit down again." - -The anecdote is unratified by a name, for the young gentleman continues -to the present day to be anonymous, as he will, in all probability, -continue to future time; and as for Dean Swift, his name, being merely -that of a wit by profession, goes for nothing. We apprehend that the -tale is not much better than what is to be read in the pages of -Joe Miller. - -But, supposing it true,--and the joke is quite bad enough to be -authentic,--we must put in our plea that it is not to apply to us. The -fact is absolutely undeniable that we originally advertised ourselves or -rather our work as, the "Wits' Miscellany,"--thereby indicating, beyond -all doubt, that we of the Miscellany were WITS. It is our firm hope that -the public, which is in general a most tender-hearted individual, will -not give us a rebuff similar to that which the unnamed young gentleman -experienced at the hands, or the tongue, of the implacable -Dean of St. Patrick. - -It has been frequently remarked,--and indeed we have more than -fifty times experienced the fact ourselves,--that of all the stupid -dinner-parties, by far the stupidest is that at which the cleverest men -in all the world do congregate. A single lion is a pleasant show: he -wags his tail in proper order; his teeth are displayed in due course; -his hide is systematically admired, and his mane fitly appreciated. -If he roars, good!--if he aggravates his voice to the note of a -sucking-dove, better! All look on in the appropriate mood of delight, -as Theseus and Hippolita, enraptured at the dramatic performance of -Snug the Joiner. But when there comes a menagerie of lions, the case -is altered. Too much familiarity, as the lawyers say in their peculiar -jargon, begets contempt. We recollect, many years ago, when some -ingenious artist in Paris proposed to make Brussels lace or blonde by -machinery at the rate of a _sou_ per ell, to have congratulated a lady -of our acquaintance on this important saving in the main expenditure -of the fair sex. "You will have," said we, "a cap which now costs four -hundred francs for less than fifty. Think of that!" - -"Think of that!" said the countess, casting upon us the darkest -expression of indignation that her glowing eyes [and what eyes they -were!--but no matter] could let loose,--"think of that, indeed! Do you -think that I should ever wear such rags as are to be bought for fifty -francs?" - -There was no arguing the matter: it was useless to say that the -fifty-franc article, if the plan had succeeded, (which, however, it did -not,) would have been precisely and in every thread the same as that set -down at five hundred. The crowd of fine things generated by cheapness, -in general, was quite enough to dim the finery of any portion of them -in particular. - -We are much afraid that we run somewhat loose of our original design -in these rambling remarks. But it is always easy to come back to the -starting-post. Abandoning metaphor and figure of all kinds, we were -endeavouring to express our conviction, drawn from experience, that -a company of professed wits might be justly suspected to be a dull -concern. Every man is on the alert to guard against surprise. - - Through all the seven courses laid down, - Each jester looks sour on his brother; - The wit dreads the punster's renown, - The buffoon tries the mimic to smother: - He who shines in the sharp repartee - Envies him who can yarn a droll story; - And the jolly bass voice in a glee - Will think your adagio but snory. - -This is, we admit at once, and in anticipation of the reader's already -expressed opinion, a very poor imitation of the opening song of the -Beggar's Opera. - -If this melancholy fact of the stupidity of congregated wits be -admitted to be true, the question comes irresistibly, thrown in our -faces in the very language of the street, "Who are _you_? Have not you -advertised yourselves as wits, and can you escape from the soft-headed -impeachment?" We reply nothing; we stand mute. It will be our time -this day twelvemonths to offer to the pensive public a satisfactory -replication to that somewhat personal interrogatory. Yet-- - -Having in our minds, and the interior _sensoria_ of our consciences, -some portion of modesty yet lingering behind--how small that portion -may be is best known to those who have campaigned for a few years upon -the press, and thence learned the diffident mildness which naturally -adheres to the pursuit of enlightening the public mind, and advancing -the march of general intellect;--possessed, we say, of that quantity of -retiring bashfulness, it is undeniable that, like one of the Passions -in Collins's Ode,--we forget which, but we fear it is Fear,--we, after -showing forth in the best public instructors as the Wits' Miscellany, - - Back recoiled, - Scared at the sound ourselves had made. - -To this resolution we were also led by the fact, that such a title would -altogether exclude from our pages contributions of great merit--which, -although exhibiting comic faculty, would also deal with the shadows of -human life, and sound the deep wells of the heart. - -We agreed that the work should not be called "The Wits'" any longer. We -massacred the title as ruthlessly as ever were massacred its namesakes -in Holland: and, agreeing to an _emendatio_, we now sail under the title -of our worthy publisher, which happens to be the same as that of him who -is by all _viri clarissimi_ adopted as _criticorum longè doctissimus_, -RICARDUS BENTLEIUS; or, to drop Latin lore--Richard Bentley. - -Here then, ladies and gentlemen, we introduce to your special and -particular notice - - - BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. - -What may be in the Miscellany it is your business to find out. Here lie -the goods, warehoused, bonded, ticketed, and labelled, at your service. -You have only, with the Genius in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments, -to cry, "Fish, fish, do your duty;" and if they are under-cooked or -over-cooked, if the seasoning is too high or the fire too low, if they -be burnt on one side and raw on the other,--why, gentle readers, it is -your business to complain. All we have to say here, is, that we have -made our haul in the best fishing-grounds, and, if we were ambitious of -pun-making, we might add, that we had well baited our _hooks_--caught -some choice _souls_--flung our lines into right _places_--and so forth, -as might easily he expanded by the students of Mr. Commissioner Dubois's -art of punning made easy. - -What we propose is simply this:--We do not envy the fame or glory of -other monthly publications. Let them all have their room. We do not -desire to jostle them in their course to fame or profit, even if it -was in our power to do so. One may revel in the unmastered fun and -the soul-touching feeling of Wilson, the humour of Hamilton, the dry -jocularity and the ornamented poetry of Moir, the pathos of Warren, the -tender sentiment of Caroline Bowles, the eloquence of Croly, and the -Tory brilliancy of half a hundred contributors zealous in the cause of -Conservatism. Another may shake our sides with the drolleries of Gilbert -Gurney and his fellows, poured forth from the inexhaustible reservoir -of the wit of our contributor Theodore Hook,--captivate or agitate us by -the Hibernian Tales of Mrs. Hall,--or rouse the gentlest emotions by the -fascinating prose or delicious verse of our fairest of _collaborateuses_ -Miss Landon. In a third we must admire the polyglot facetiæ of our -own Father Prout, and the delicate appreciation of the classical and -elegant which pervades the writings of the Greek-thoughted Chapman; -while its rough drollery, its bold bearing, its mirth, its learning, its -courage, and its caricatures, (when, confined to the harmless and the -mirth-provoking, they abstain from invading the sanctuary of private -life,) are all deserving of the highest applause, though we should -be somewhat sorry to stand in the way of receiving the consequences -which they occasionally entail. Elsewhere, what can be better than -Marryat, Peter Simple, Jacob Faithful, Midshipman Easy, or whatever -other title pleases his ear; A Smollett of the sea revived, equal to -the Doctor in wit, and somewhat purged of his grossness. In short, to -all our periodical contemporaries we wish every happiness and success; -and for those among their contributors whose writings tend to amuse or -instruct,--and many among them there are to whom such praise may be -justly applied,--we feel the highest honour and respect. We wish that -we could catch them all, to illuminate our pages, without any desire -whatever that their rays should be withdrawn from those in which they -are at present shining. - -Our path is single and distinct. In the first place, we have nothing -to do with politics. We are so far Conservatives as to wish that all -things which are good and honourable for our native country should be -preserved with jealous hand. We are so far Reformers as to desire that -every weed which defaces our conservatory should be unsparingly plucked -up and cast away. But is it a matter of absolute necessity that people's -political opinions should be perpetually obtruded upon public notice? Is -there not something more in the world to be talked about than Whig and -Tory? We do not quarrel with those who find or make it their vocation to -show us annually, or quarterly, or hebdomadally, or diurnally, how we -are incontestably saved or ruined; they have chosen their line of walk, -and a pleasant one no doubt it is; but, for our softer feet may it not -be permitted to pick out a smoother and a greener promenade,--a path of -springy turf and odorous sward, in which no rough pebble will lacerate -the ancle, no briery thorn penetrate the wandering sole? - -Truce, however, to prefacing. We well know that speechmaking never yet -won an election, because something more tangible than speechifying -is requisite. So it is with books; and, indeed, so is it with every -thing else in the world. We must be judged by our works. We have only -one petition to make, which is put in with all due humility,--it is -this--that we are not to be pre-judged by this our first attempt. -Nothing is more probable than that many of our readers, and they -fair-going people too, will think this number a matter not at all to be -commended; and we, with perfect modesty, suggest, on the other side, the -propriety of their suspending their opinion as to our demerits until -they see the next. And then----And then! Well!--what then? Why, we do -not know: and, as it is generally ruled, that, when a man cannot speak, -he is bound to sing, we knock ourselves down for a song. - - - Our Opening Chaunt. - - I. - Come round and hear, my public dear, - Come hear, and judge it gently,-- - The prose so terse, and flowing verse, - Of us, the wits of Bentley. - - II. - We offer not intricate plot - To muse upon intently; - No tragic word, no bloody sword, - Shall stain the page of Bentley. - - III. - The tender song which all day long - Resounds so sentimént'ly, - Through wood and grove all full of love, - Will find no place in Bentley. - - IV. - Nor yet the speech which fain would teach - All nations eloquéntly;-- - 'Tis quite too grand for us the bland - And modest men of Bentley. - - V. - For science deep no line we keep, - We speak it reveréntly;-- - From sign to sign the sun may shine, - Untelescoped by Bentley. - - VI. - Tory and Whig, in accents big, - May wrangle violéntly: - Their party rage shan't stain the page-- - The neutral page of Bentley. - - VII. - The scribe whose pen is mangling men - And women pestiléntly, - May take elsewhere his wicked ware,-- - He finds no mart in Bentley. - - VIII. - It pains us not to mark the spot - Where Dan may find his rént lie; - The Glasgow chiel may shout for Peel, - We know them not in Bentley. - - IX. - Those who admire a merry lyre,-- - Those who would hear attent'ly - A tale of wit, or flashing hit,-- - Are ask'd to come to Bentley. - - X. - Our hunt will be for grace and glee, - Where thickest may the scent lie; - At slashing pace begins the chase-- - Now for the burst of Bentley. - - - - - GEORGE COLMAN. - -That a life of this eminent and much regretted man will be written -by some competent author, there can be little doubt. That he himself -extended his "_Random Records_" no further than two volumes, containing -the history and anecdotes of the early part of his career, is greatly -to be lamented. What is here collected is merely worthy of being called -"Recollections," and does not assume to itself the character of a piece -of biography. - -Mr. Colman was the grandson of Francis Colman, Esq. British Resident -at the Court of Tuscany at Pisa, who married a sister of the Countess -of Bath. George Colman the elder, father of him of whom we write, was -born about the year 1733, at Florence, and was placed at an early age -at Westminster School, where he very soon distinguished himself by the -rapidity of his attainments. In 1748 he went to Christchurch College, -Oxford, where he took his Master's degree; and shortly became the friend -and associate of Churchill, Bonnell Thornton, Lloyd, and the other -principal wits and writers of the day. - -Lord Bath was greatly struck by his merit and accomplishments, and -induced him to adopt the law as his profession. He accordingly entered -at Lincoln's Inn, and was eventually called to the bar. It appears--as -it happened afterwards to his son--that the drier pursuits of his -vocation were neglected or abandoned in favour of literature and the -drama. His first poetical performance was a copy of verses addressed to -his cousin, Lord Pulteney. But it was not till 1760 that he produced any -dramatic work: in that year he brought out "Polly Honeycombe," which met -with considerable success. - -It is remarkable that, previous to that season, no new comedy had been -produced at either theatre for nine years; and equally remarkable -that the year 1761 should have brought before the public "The Jealous -Wife," by Colman, "The way to Keep Him," by Murphy, and "The Married -Libertine," by Macklin. - -In the following year Lord Bath died, and left Mr. Colman a very -comfortable annuity, but less in value than he had anticipated. In -1767, General Pulteney, Lord Bath's successor, died, and left him a -second annuity, which secured him in independence for life. And here it -may be proper to notice a subject which George Colman the younger has -touched before in his "Random Records," in which he corrects a hasty and -incautious error of the late Margravine of Anspach, committed by her, in -her "Memoirs." Speaking of George Colman the elder, she says, - -"He was a natural son of Lord Bath, Sir James Pulteney; and his father, -perceiving in the son a passion for plays, asked him fairly if he never -intended to turn his thoughts to politics, as it was his desire to see -him a minister, which, with his natural endowments, and the expense and -pains he had bestowed on his education, he had reason to imagine, with -his interest, he might become. His _father_ desired to know if he would -give up the Muses for diplomacy, and plays for politics; as, in that -case, he meant to give him his whole fortune. Colman thanked Lord Bath -for his kind communication, but candidly said, that he preferred Thalia -and Melpomene to ambition of any kind, for the height of his wishes was -to become, at some future time, the manager of a theatre. Lord Bath left -him fifteen hundred pounds a-year, instead of all his immense wealth." - -Mr. Colman, after exposing the strange mistake of calling _the_ -Sir William Pulteney, James, goes on to state, that, being the son -of his wife's sister, Lord Bath, on the death of Francis Colman -(his brother-in-law), which occurred when the elder George was but -one year old, took him entirely under his protection, and placed -him progressively at Westminster, Oxford, and Lincoln's Inn. In -corroboration of the else unquestioned truth of this statement, he -refers to the posthumous pamphlets of his highly-gifted parent, and -justly takes credit for saving him from imputed illegitimacy, by -explaining that his grandmother was exempt from the conjugal frailty of -Venus, and his grandfather from the fate of Vulcan. - -George Colman the elder suffered severely from the effects of a -paralytic affection, which, in the year 1790, produced mental -derangement; and, after living in seclusion for four years, he died on -the 14th of April 1794, having been during his life a joint proprietor -of Covent Garden Theatre, and sole proprietor of the little theatre in -the Haymarket. - -George Colman the younger became, at Westminster, the schoolfellow and -associate of the present Archbishop of York, the Marquess of Anglesea, -the late Earl of Buckinghamshire, Doctor Robert Willis, Mr. Reynolds, -his brother dramatist, the present Earl Somers, and many other persons, -who have since, like himself, become distinguished members of society. - -The account which Mr. Colman gives of his introduction by his father to -Johnson, Goldsmith, and Foote, when a child, is so highly graphic, and -so strongly characteristic of the man, that we give an abridgement -of it here: - -"On the day of my introduction," says Colman, "Dr. Johnson was asked to -dinner at my father's house in Soho-square, and the erudite savage came -a full hour before his time. My father, having dressed himself hastily, -took me with him into the drawing-room. - -"On our entrance, we found Johnson sitting in a _fauteuil_ of -rose-coloured satin. He was dressed in a rusty suit of brown, cloth -_dittos_, with black worsted stockings; his old yellow wig was of -formidable dimensions; and the learned head which sustained it rolled -about in a seemingly paralytic motion; but, in the performance of its -orbit, it inclined chiefly to one shoulder. - -"He deigned not to rise on our entrance; and we stood before him while -he and my father talked. There was soon a pause in the colloquy; -and my father, making his advantage of it, took me by the hand, and -said,--'Dr. Johnson, this is a little Colman.' The doctor bestowed a -slight ungracious glance upon me, and, continuing the rotary motion -of his head, renewed the previous conversation. Again there was a -pause;--again the anxious father, who had failed in his first effort, -seized the opportunity for pushing his progeny, with--'This is my son, -Dr. Johnson.' The great man's contempt for me was now roused to wrath; -and, knitting his brows, he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, 'I _see_ -him, sir!' He then fell back in his rose-coloured satin _fauteuil_, -as if giving himself up to meditation; implying that he would not be -further plagued, either with an old fool or a young one. - -"After this rude rebuff from the doctor, I had the additional felicity -to be placed next to him at dinner: he was silent over his meal; but -I observed that he was, as Shylock says of Lancelot Gobbo, 'a huge -feeder;' and during the display of his voracity, (which was worthy of -_Bolt_ Court,) the perspiration fell in copious drops from his visage -upon the table-cloth." - -"Oliver Goldsmith, several years before my luckless presentation to -Johnson, proved how 'doctors differ.' I was only five years old when -Goldsmith took me on his knee, while he was drinking coffee, one -evening, with my father, and began to play with me; which amiable act I -returned with the ingratitude of a peevish brat, by giving him a very -smart slap in the face; it must have been a tingler, for it left the -marks of my little spiteful paw upon his cheek. This infantile outrage -was followed by summary justice; and I was locked up by my indignant -father in an adjoining room, to undergo solitary imprisonment in the -dark. Here I began to howl and scream most abominably; which was no bad -step towards liberation, since those who were not inclined to pity me -might be likely to set me free, for the purpose of abating a nuisance. - -"At length a generous friend appeared to extricate me from jeopardy, -and that generous friend was no other than the man I had so wantonly -molested by assault and battery; it was the tender-hearted doctor -himself, with a lighted candle in his hand, and a smile upon his -countenance, which was still partially red from the effects of my -petulance. I sulked and sobbed, and he fondled and soothed; till I began -to brighten. Goldsmith, who, in regard to children, was like the village -preacher he has so beautifully described,--for - - 'Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distressed,'-- - -seized the propitious moment of returning good-humour; so he put down -the candle, and began to conjure. He placed three hats, which happened -to be in the room, upon the carpet, and a shilling under each: the -shillings he told me, were England, France, and Spain. 'Hey, presto, -cockolorum!' cried the doctor,--and, lo! on uncovering the shillings -which had been dispersed, each beneath a separate hat, they were all -found congregated under one. I was no politician at five years old, -and, therefore, might not have wondered at the sudden revolution which -brought England, France, and Spain all under one crown; but, as I was -also no conjuror, it amazed me beyond measure. Astonishment might have -amounted to awe for one who appeared to me gifted with the power of -performing miracles, if the good-nature of the man had not obviated my -dread of the magician; but, from that time, whenever the doctor came to -visit my father, - - 'I pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile; - -a game at romps constantly ensued, and we were always cordial friends, -and merry play-fellows. - -"Foote's earliest notices of me were far from flattering; but, though -they had none of Goldsmith's tenderness, they had none of Johnson's -ferocity; and when he accosted me with his usual salutation of 'Blow -your nose, child!' there was a whimsical manner, and a broad grin upon -his features, which always made me laugh. - -"His own nose was generally begrimed with snuff; and, if he had never -been more facetious than upon the subject of my _emunctories_, which, -by the bye, did not went cleansing, I need not tell the reader, that he -would not have been distinguished as a wit;--he afterwards condescended -to pass better jokes upon me. - -"The paradoxical celebrity which he maintained upon the stage was very -singular; his satirical sketches were scarcely dramas, and he could not -be called a good legitimate performer. Yet there is no Shakspeare or -Roscius upon record who, like Foote, supported a theatre for a series of -years by his own acting, in his own writings, and, for ten years of the -time, upon a _wooden leg_!" - -The reader, if he have not seen these passages before, will, we are -sure, sympathise with us in our regrets that the work from which we -extract them, carries us only in its two volumes to the year 1785,--a -period at which Colman's fame and reputation had yet to be made. - -His first decidedly successful drama was "Inkle and Yarico:" this at -once established his character as an author. "Ways and Means," "The -Mountaineers," and "The Iron Chest" followed; and in 1798 he published -those admirable poems known as "My Night-gown and Slippers." His -greatest literary triumphs were, however, yet to come. "The Heir at Law" -was his first regular comedy; and we doubt very much whether he ever -excelled it, or, indeed, if it has been excelled by more than a very few -plays in the English language. We know that the theatrical world, and -we believe the author himself, gave a decided preference to "John Bull;" -but we admit that as we are unfashionable enough to prefer Sheridan's -"Rivals" to his "School for Scandal," so are we prepared unhesitatingly -to declare our opinion that "The Heir at Law" is Colman's -_chef d'oeuvre_. - -"The Poor Gentleman" is an excellent play; and "Who wants a Guinea?" -although not so decidedly successful as its predecessors, teems -with that rich humour and quaintness of thought which so strongly -characterise the writing of its author. His farces of "The Review," -"Love laughs at Locksmiths," "We fly by Night," and several others, -are all admirable in their way. These were given to the town as the -reductions of Arthur Griffinhoofe, a _nom de guerre_, however, which -proved quite inefficient in making the public mistake the source whence -their amusement was derived. - -In 1819, Mr. Colman finally retired from the proprietorship and -management of the Haymarket Theatre. Upon the escape and flight from -England of Captain Davis, the lieutenant of the Yeoman Guard, his -Majesty George the Fourth appointed Mr. Colman to succeed him; and on -the death of Mr. Larpent he also received the appointment of Examiner -of Plays. The former office he relinquished in favour of Sir John Gete, -some three or four years since; and in the latter he has, as our readers -know, been succeeded by Mr. Charles Kemble. - -It would be unjust and unfair to the memory of Mr. Colman were we to -let slip this opportunity of saying a few words upon the subject of his -conduct in the execution of the duties of this situation; because it -has been made the object of attack even by men of the highest talent -and reputation, as well as the low ribald abuse of their literary -inferiors,--which, however, considering the source whence it came, is -not worth noticing. - -It has been alleged that Mr. Colman was unnecessarily rigid in his -exclusion of oaths and profane sayings from the dramatic works submitted -to his inspection; and the gist of the arguments against him touching -this rigour went to show that he ought not to expunge such expressions -as examiner, because he had used such expressions himself as an author. -This reasoning is absurd, the conclusion inconsequential. When Mr. -Colman wrote plays, he was not bound by oath to regulate their language -by any fixed standard; and, as all other dramatists of the day had done, -in a dialogue or depicting a character he used in some--perhaps all -his dramas--occasional expletives. But Mr. Colman's plays then had to -be submitted to an examiner, who, conscientiously, did his duty; and, -from the high moral character of the late licenser, there can be little -lesson for doubting that _he_, like his successor, drew his pen across -any expression which he might have considered objectionable; but no one -ever complained of this, because Mr. Larpent had never written a play, -or used an oath in its dialogues. - -When Mr. Colman assumed the legal and necessary power of correction, -he had but one course to pursue: he was sworn to perform a certain -duty assigned to him to the best of his judgment, and to correct any -expressions which he might consider injurious to the state or to -morality. What had _he_ to do, as licenser, with what he had himself -done as author? The _tu quoque_ principle in this use is even more than -usually absurd; it is as if a schoolmaster were to be prevented from -flogging a boy for breaking windows, because, when he was a boy, he had -broken windows himself. - -As we have already stated that it is not our intention to make these -few pages a piece of biography, we shall leave to some better qualified -person to give the more minute details of Mr. Colman's life. The -following lines, written by himself, now many years since, and when -he himself was under fifty, give as good an epitome of his career up -to that period as fifty pages of matter-of-fact; and from that time -until the occurrence of the sad event to which the last stanza, so -pathetically--as it _now_ reads--refers, he lived on in happiness -and comfort. - - - A RECKONING WITH TIME. - - I. - Come on, old Time!--Nay, that is stuff; - Gaffer! thou comest fast enough; - Wing'd foe to feather'd Cupid!-- - But tell me, Sand-man, ere thy grains - Have multiplied upon my brains, - So thick to make me stupid;-- - - II. - Tell me, Death's journeyman!--But no! - Hear thou my speech: I will not grow - Irreverent while I try it; - For, though I mock thy flight, 'tis said - The forelock fills me with such dread, - I never take thee by it. - - III. - List, then, old Is, Was, and To-be; - I'll state accounts 'twixt thee and me. - Thou gav'st me, first, the measles; - With teething would'st have ta'en me off; - Then mad'st me, with the hooping-cough, - Thinner than fifty weasels; - - IV. - Thou gav'st small-pox, (the dragon now - That Jenner combats on a cow,) - And then some seeds of knowledge,-- - Grains of Grammar, which the flails - Of pedants thresh upon our tails, - To fit us for a college. - - V. - And, when at Christ-Church, 'twas thy sport - To rack my brains with sloe-juice port, - And lectures out of number! - There Freshman Folly quaffs and sings, - While Graduate Dullness clogs thy wings - With mathematic lumber. - - VI. - Thy pinions next,--which, while they wave, - Fan all our birth-days to the grave,-- - I think, ere it was prudent, - Balloon'd me from the schools to town, - Where I was parachuted down, - A dapper Temple student. - - VII. - Then, much in dramas did I look,-- - Much slighted thee and great Lord Coke: - Congreve beat Blackstone hollow; - Shakspeare made all the statues stale, - And in my crown no pleas had Hale - To supersede Apollo. - - VIII. - Ah! Time, those raging heats, I find, - Were the mere dog-star of my mind; - How cool is retrospection! - Youth's gaudy summer solstice o'er, - Experience yields a mellow store,-- - An autumn of reflection! - - IX. - Why did I let the God of song - Lure me from law to join his throng, - Gull'd by some slight applauses? - What's verse to A. when versus B.? - Or what John Bull, a comedy, - To pleading John Bull's causes! - - X. - Yet, though my childhood felt disease,-- - Though my lank purse, unswoll'n by fees, - Some ragged Muse has netted,-- - Still, honest Chronos! 'tis most true, - To thee (and, 'faith! to others too,) - I'm very much indebted. - - XI. - For thou hast made me gaily tough, - Inured me to each day that's rough, - In hopes of calm to-morrow. - And when, old mower of us all, - Beneath thy sweeping scythe I fall, - Some few dear friends will sorrow. - - XII. - Then, though my idle prose or rhyme - Should, half an hour, outlive me, Time, - Pray bid the stone-engravers, - Where'er my bones find church-yard room, - Simply to chisel on my tomb,-- - "Thank Time for all his favours!" - -It is a curious coincidence--although considering the proximity of -their ages there may be nothing really strange in it--that Mr. Colman -and his intimate friend Bannister should have quitted this mortal world -so nearly at the same time. The circumstance, however, gives us an -opportunity of bringing their names together in a manner honourable to -both. We derive the anecdote from the "Random Records;" and we think -it will be at this juncture favourably received by those who admire -dramatic authors and actors, and who rejoice to see traits of private -worth the concomitants of public excellence. - -After recounting the circumstances of his first acquaintance with -Bannister, Mr. Colman says, - -"In the year of my return from Aberdeen, 1784, unconscious of fear -through ignorance of danger, I rushed into early publicity as an avowed -dramatist. My father's illness in 1789 obliged me to undertake the -management of his theatre; which, having purchased at his demise, I -continued to manage as my own. During such progression, up to the year -1796 inclusive, I scribbled many dramas for the Haymarket, and one for -Drury-lane; in almost all of which the younger Bannister (being engaged -at both theatres) performed a prominent character; so that, for most of -the thirteen years I have enumerated, he was of the greatest importance -to my theatrical prosperity in my double capacity of author and manager; -while I was of some service to him by supplying him with new characters. -These reciprocal interests made us, of course, such close colleagues, -that our almost daily consultations promoted amity, while they forwarded -business. - -"From this last-mentioned period, (1796,) we were led by our -speculations, one after the other, into different tracks. He had -arrived at that height of London popularity when his visits to various -provincial theatres in the summer were productive of much more money -than my scale of expense in the Haymarket could afford to give him. As -he wintered it, however, in Drury-lane, I profited for two years more by -his acting in the pieces which I produced there. I then began to write -for the rival house in Covent Garden, and this parted us as author and -actor: but separating, as we did, through accident, and with the kindest -sentiments for each other, it was not likely that we should forget or -neglect further to cultivate our mutual regard: that regard is now so -mellowed by time that it will never cease till Time himself,--who, in -ripening our friendship, has been all the while whetting his scythe for -the friends,--shall have mowed down the men, and gathered in his harvest. - -"One trait of Bannister, in our worldly dealings with each other, will -nearly bring me to the close of this chapter. - -"In the year 1807, after having slaved at some dramatic composition,--I -forget what,--I had resolved to pass one entire week in luxurious sloth. - -"At this crisis,--just as I was beginning the first morning's sacrifice -upon the altar of my darling goddess, Indolence,--enter Jack Bannister, -with a huge manuscript under his left arm!--This, he told me, consisted -of loose materials for an entertainment, with which he meant to "skirr -the country," under the title of BANNISTER'S BUDGET; but, unless I -reduced the chaos into some order for him, and that _instantly_,--he -should lose his tide, and with it his emoluments for the season. In such -a case there was no balancing between two alternatives, so I deserted my -darling goddess to drudge through the week for my old companion. - -"To concoct the crudities he had brought me, by polishing, expunging, -adding,--in short, almost re-writing them,--was, it must be confessed, -labouring under the "horrors of digestion;" but the toil was completed -at the week's end, and away went Jack Bannister into the country with -his BUDGET. - -"Several months afterwards he returned to town; and I inquired, of -course, what success?--So great, he answered, that in consequence of the -gain which had accrued to him through my means, and which he was certain -would still accrue, (as he now considered the Budget to be an annual -income for some years to come,) he must insist upon cancelling a bond -which I had given him, for money he had lent to me. I was astounded; for -I had never dreamt of fee or reward. - -"To prove that he was in earnest, I extract a paragraph from a latter -which he wrote to me from Shrewsbury. - -"'For fear of accidents, I think it necessary to inform you that -Fladgate, your attorney, is in possession of your bond to me of £700; as -I consider it _fully discharged_, it is but proper you should have this -acknowledgment under my hand. J.B.' - -"Should my unostentatious friend think me indelicate in publishing this -anecdote, I can only say, that it naturally appertains to the sketch -I have given of our co-operations in life; and that the insertion of -it here seems almost indispensable, in order to elucidate my previous -statement of our having blended so much _sentiment_ with so much -_traffic_. I feel, too, that it would be downright injustice to him -if I suppressed it; and would betoken in myself the pride of those -narrow-minded persons who are ashamed of acknowledging how greatly they -have profited by the liberal spirit of others. - -"The bond above mentioned was given, be it observed, on a private -account; not for money due to an actor for his professional assistance. -Gilliland, in his 'Dramatic Mirror,' says that my admission of partners -'enabled the proprietors to completely liquidate all the demands which -had for some time past involved the house in temporary embarrassments.' -This is a gross mistake; the Haymarket Theatre was _never_ embarrassed -(on the contrary, it was a prosperous speculation) while under my -direction. My own difficulties during part of this time are another -matter: I may touch _slightly_ on this hereafter; but shall not bore my -readers by dwelling long on matters which (however they may have -annoyed _me_) cannot entertain or interest _them_. - -"I regret following up one instance of Mr. Gilliland's inaccuracy -immediately with another; but he asserts, in his 'Dramatic Mirror,' that -J. Bannister, 'in the season 1778, made his appearance for the benefit -of his father, _on the boards of Old Drury_.' In contradiction to the -foregoing statement a document now lies before me,--I transcribe it -verbatim: - -"'First appearance, _at the Haymarket_, for my father's benefit, -1778, in The Apprentice. First appearance at Drury-lane, 1779, in -Zaphna, in Mahomet. Took leave of the stage at Drury-lane, Thursday, -June 1st, 1815. Garrick instructed me in the four first parts I -played,--the Apprentice; Zaphna (Mahomet); Dorilas (Merope); and Achmet -(Barbarossa).--Jack Bannister, to his dear friend George Colman. June -30th, 1828.'" - -These memoranda, under the circumstances, are curious and -affecting.--Death _has_ gathered in his harvest, and both the -men _are_ gone. - -Of Mr. Colman's delightful manners and conversational powers no words -can give any adequate idea: with all the advantages of extensive -reading, a general knowledge of mankind, and an inexhaustible fund of -wit and humour, he blended a joyousness of expression, a kindness of -feeling, and a warmth of manner, which rendered him the much-sought -companion of every circle of society in which he chose to mix. Of his -literary talents all the world can judge; but it is only those who have -known him in private life who can appreciate the qualities which we -despair of being able justly to describe. - - - IMPROMPTU BY THE LATE GEORGE COLMAN. - -About a year since, a young lady begged this celebrated wit to write -some verses in her album: he shook his head; but, good-naturedly -promising to try, at once extemporised the following,--most probably his -last written and poetical jest. - - My muse and I, ere youth and spirits fled, - Sat up together many a night, no doubt; - But now, I've sent the poor old lass to bed, - Simply because _my fire is going out_. - - - - - THE "MONSTRE" BALLOON. - - Oh! the balloon, the great balloon! - It left Vauxhall one Monday at noon, - And every one said we should hear of it soon - With news from Aleppo or Scanderoon. - But very soon after, folks changed their tune: - "The netting had burst--the silk--the shalloon; - It had met with a trade-wind--a deuced monsoon-- - It was blown out to sea--it was blown to the moon-- - They ought to have put off their journey till June; - Sure none but a donkey, a goose, or baboon, - Would go up, in November, in any balloon!" - - Then they talk'd about Green--"Oh! where's Mister Green? - And where's Mister Hollond who hired the machine? - And where is Monk Mason, the man that has been - Up so often before--twelve times or thirteen-- - And who writes such nice letters describing the scene? - And where's the cold fowl, and the ham, and poteen? - The press'd beef with the fat cut off,--nothing but lean? - And the portable soup in the patent tureen? - Have they got to Grand Cairo? or reached Aberdeen? - Or Jerusalem--Hamburgh--or Ballyporeen?-- - No! they have not been seen! Oh! they haven't been seen!" - - Stay! here's Mister Gye--Mr. Frederick Gye. - "At Paris," says he, "I've been up very high, - A couple of hundred of toises, or nigh, - A cockstride the Tuilleries' pantiles, to spy, - With Dollond's best telescope stuck at my eye, - And my umbrella under my arm like Paul Pry, - But I could see nothing at all but the sky; - So I thought with myself 'twas of no use to try - Any longer; and feeling remarkably dry - From sitting all day stuck up there, like a Guy, - I came down again and--you see--here am I!" - - But here's Mister Hughes!--What says young Mr. Hughes? - "Why, I'm sorry to say, we've not got any news - Since the letter they threw down in one of their shoes, - Which gave the Mayor's nose such a deuce of a bruise, - As he popp'd up his eye-glass to look at their cruise - Over Dover; and which the folks flock'd to peruse - At Squier's bazaar, the same evening, in crews, - Politicians, newsmongers, town council, and blues, - Turks, heretics, infidels, jumpers, and Jews, - Scorning Bachelor's papers, and Warren's reviews; - But the wind was then blowing towards Helvoetsluys, - And my father and I are in terrible stews, - For so large a balloon is a sad thing to lose!" - - Here's news come at last! Here's news come at last! - A vessel's arrived, which has sail'd very fast; - And a gentleman serving before the mast, - Mister Nokes, has declared that "the party has past - Safe across to the Hague, where their grapnel they cast - As a fat burgomaster was staring aghast - To see such a monster come home on the blast, - And it caught in his breeches, and there it stuck fast!" - - Oh! fie! Mister Nokes,--for shame, Mister Nokes! - To be poking your fun at us plain-dealing folks-- - Sir, this isn't a time to be cracking your jokes, - And such jesting, your malice but scurvily cloaks; - Such a trumpery tale every one of us smokes, - And we know very well your whole story's a hoax! - - "Oh! what shall we do? oh! where will it end? - Can nobody go? Can nobody send - To Calais--or Bergen-op-zoom--or Ostend? - Can't you go there yourself? Can't you write to a friend, - For news upon which we may safely depend?" - - Huzzah! huzzah! one and eight-pence to pay - For a letter from Hamborough, just come to say - They descended at Weilburg about break of day; - And they've lent them the palace there, during their stay, - And the town is becoming uncommonly gay, - And they're feasting the party, and soaking their clay - With Johannisberg, Rudesheim, Moselle, and Tokay; - And the landgraves, and margraves, and counts beg and prey - That they won't think as yet, about going away; - Notwithstanding, they don't mean to make much delay, - But pack up the balloon in a waggon or dray, - And pop themselves into a German "_po-shay_," - And get on to Paris by Lisle and Tournay; - Where they boldly declare, any wager they'll lay, - If the gas people there do not ask them to pay - Such a sum as must force them at once to say "Nay," - They'll inflate the balloon in the Champs Elysées, - And be back again here, the beginning of May. - - Dear me! what a treat for a juvenile _féte_! - What thousands will flock their arrival to greet! - There'll be hardly a soul to be seen in the street, - For at Vauxhall the whole population will meet, - And you'll scarcely get standing-room, much less a seat, - For this all preceding attraction must beat:-- - - Since, there they'll unfold, what we want to be told, - How they cough'd, how they sneez'd, how they shiver'd with cold, - How they tippled the "cordial," as racy and old - As Hodges, or Deady, or Smith ever sold, - And how they all then felt remarkably bold; - How they thought the boil'd beef worth its own weight in gold; - And how Mister Green was beginning to scold - Because Mister Hollond would try to lay hold - Of the moon, and had very near overboard roll'd. - - And there they'll be seen--they'll be all to be seen! - The great-coats, the coffee-pot, mugs, and tureen! - With the tight-rope, and fire-works, and dancing between, - If the weather should only prove fair and serene. - And there, on a beautiful transparent screen, - In the middle you'll see a large picture of Green, - With Holland on one side, who hired the machine, - And Monk Mason on t'other, describing the scene; - And Fame on one leg in the air, like a queen, - With three wreaths and a trumpet, will over them lean; - While Envy, in serpents and black bombazine, - Looks on from below with an air of chagrin. - - Then they'll play up a tune in the Royal Saloon, - And the people will dance by the light of the moon, - And keep up the ball till the next day at noon; - And the peer and the peasant, the lord and the loon, - The haughty grandee, and the low picaroon, - The six-foot life-guardsman, and little gossoon, - Will all join in three cheers for the "monstre" balloon. - - - - - HANDY ANDY. - -Andy Rooney was a fellow who had the most singularly ingenious knack of -doing every thing the wrong way; disappointment awaited on all affairs -in which he bore a part, and destruction was at his fingers' ends: so -the nick-name the neighbours stuck upon him was Handy Andy, and the -jeering jingle pleased them. - -Andy's entrance into this world was quite in character with his after -achievements, for he was nearly the death of his mother. She survived, -however, to have herself clawed almost to death while her darling babby -was in arms, for he would not take his nourishment from the parent fount -unless he had one of his little red fists twisted into his mother's -hair, which he dragged till he made her roar; while he diverted the pain -by scratching her till the blood came, with the other. Nevertheless she -swore he was "the loveliest and sweetest craythur the sun ever shined -upon;" and when he was able to run about and wield a little stick, and -smash every thing breakable belonging to her, she only praised his -precocious powers, and used to ask, "Did ever any one see a darlin' of -his age handle a stick so bowld as he did?" - -Andy grew up in mischief and the admiration of his mammy; but, to do him -justice, he never meant harm in the course of his life, and was most -anxious to offer his services on all occasions to any one who would -accept them; but they were only those who had not already proved Andy's -peculiar powers. - -There was a farmer hard by in this happy state of ignorance, named Owen -Doyle, or, as he was familiarly called, _Owny na Coppal_, or, "Owen of -the Horses," because he bred many of these animals, and sold them at -the neighbouring fairs; and Andy one day offered his services to Owny -when he was in want of some one to drive up a horse to his house from a -distant "bottom," as low grounds by a river side are always called in -Ireland. - -"Oh, he's wild, Andy, and you'd never be able to ketch him," said -Owny.--"Throth, an' I'll engage I'll ketch him if you'll let me go. I -never seen the horse I couldn't ketch, sir," said Andy. - -"Why, you little spridhogue, if he took to runnin' over the long bottom, -it 'ud be more than a day's work for you to folly him."--"Oh, but he -won't run." - -"Why won't he run?"--"Bekase I won't make him run." - -"How can you help it?"--"I'll soother him." - -"Well, you're a willin' brat, any how; and so go, and God speed you!" -said Owny. - -"Just gi' me a wisp o' hay an' a han'ful iv oats," said Andy, "if I -should have to coax him."--"Sartinly," said Owny, who entered the stable -and came forth with the articles required by Andy, and a halter for the -horse also. - - [Illustration: Handy Andy] - -"Now, take care," said Owny, "that you're able to ride that horse if you -get on him."--"Oh, never fear, sir. I can ride owld Lanty Gubbin's mule -betther nor any o' the other boys on the common, and he couldn't throw -me th' other day, though he kicked the shoes av him." - -"After that you may ride any thing," said Owny: and indeed it was true; -for Lanty's mule, which fed on the common, being ridden slily by all the -young vagabonds in the neighbourhood, had become such an adept in the -art of getting rid of his troublesome customers, that it might be well -considered a feat to stick on him. - -"Now, take grate care of him, Andy, my boy," said the farmer.--"Don't be -afeard sir," said Andy, who started on his errand in that peculiar pace -which is elegantly called a "sweep's trot;" and as the river lay between -Owny Doyle's and the bottom, and was too deep for Andy to ford at that -season, he went round by Dinny Dowling's mill, where a small wooden -bridge crossed the stream. - -Here he thought he might as well secure the assistance of Paudeen, the -miller's son, to help him in catching the horse; an he looked about the -place until he found him, and, telling him the errand on which he was -going, said, "If you like to come wid me, we can both have a ride." This -was temptation sufficient for Paudeen, and the boys proceeded together -to the bottom, and they were not long in securing the horse. When they -had got the halter over his head, "Now," said Andy, "give me a lift on -him;" and accordingly by Paudeen's catching Andy's left foot in both -his hands clasped together in the fashion of a stirrup, he hoisted -his friend on the horse's back; and, as soon as he was secure there, -Master Paudeen, by the aid of Andy's hand contrived to scramble up after -him; upon which Andy applied his heels into the horse's side with many -vigorous kicks, and crying "Hurrup!" at the same time, endeavoured to -stimulate Owny's steed into something of a pace as he turned his head -towards the mill. - -"Sure aren't you going to crass the river?" said Paudeen.--"No, I'm -going to lave you at home." - -"Oh, I'd rather go up to Owny's, and it's the shortest way acrass the -river."--"Yes but I don't like--" - -"Is it afeard you are?" said Paudeen.--"Not I, indeed," said Andy; -though it was really the fact, for the width of the stream startled him; -"but Owny towld me to take grate care o' the baste and I'm loath to wet -his feet." - -"Go 'long wid you, you fool! what harm would it do him? Sure he's -neither sugar nor salt that he'd melt." - -"Well, I won't, any how," said Andy, who by this time had got the -horse into a good high trot, that shook every word of argument out of -Paudeen's body; besides, it was as much as the boys could do to keep -their seats on Owny's Bucephalus, who was not long in reaching the -miller's bridge. Here voice and rein were employed to pull him in, that -he might cross the narrow wooden structure at a quiet pace. But whether -his double load had given him the idea of double exertion, or that the -pair of legs on each side sticking into his flanks (and perhaps the -horse was ticklish) made him go the faster, we know not: but the horse -charged the bridge as if an Enniskilliner were on his back, and an enemy -before him; and in two minutes his hoofs cluttered like thunder on the -bridge, that did not bend beneath him. No, it did _not_ bend, but it -broke: proving the falsehood of the boast, "I may break, but I won't -bend:" for, after all, the really strong may bend, and be as strong as -ever: it is the unsound, that has only the seeming of strength, that -breaks at last when it resists too long. - -Surprising was the spin the young equestrians took over the ears of the -horse, enough to make all the artists of Astley's envious; and plump -they went into the river, where each formed his own ring, and executed -some comical "scenes in the circle," which were suddenly changed to -evolutions on the "flying cord" that Dinny Dowling threw the performers, -which became suddenly converted into a "tight rope" as he dragged -the _voltigeurs_ out of the water; and, for fear their blood might -be chilled by the accident, he gave them both an enormous thrashing -with the _dry_ end of the rope, just to restore circulation; and his -exertions, had they been witnessed, would have charmed the Humane -Society. - -As for the horse, his legs stuck through the bridge, as though he had -been put in a _chiroplast_, and he went playing away on the water with -considerable execution, as if he were accompanying himself in the song -which he was squealing at the top of his voice. Half the saws, hatchets, -ropes, and poles in the parish were put in requisition immediately; and -the horse's first lesson in _chiroplastic_ exercise was performed with -no other loss than some skin and a good deal of hair. Of course Andy did -not venture on taking Owny's horse home; so the miller sent him to his -owner with an account of the accident. Andy for years kept out of Owny -na Coppal's way; and at any time that his presence was troublesome, the -inconvenienced party had only to say, "Isn't that Owny na Coppal coming -this way?" and Andy fled for his life, - -When Andy grew up to what in country parlance is called "a brave lump -of a boy," his mother thought he was old enough to do something for -himself; so she took him one day along with her to the squire's, and -waited outside the door, loitering up and down the yard behind the -house, among a crowd of beggars and great lazy dogs that were thrusting -their herds into every iron pot that stood outside the kitchen door, -until chance might give her "a sight o' the squire afore he wint out -or afore he wint in;" and, after spending her entire day in this idle -way, at last the squire made his appearance, and Judy presented her son, -who kept scraping his foot, and pulling his forelock, that stuck out -like a piece of ragged thatch from his forehead, making his obeisance -to the squire, while his mother was sounding his praises for being the -"handiest craythur alive--and so willin'--nothing comes wrong to him." - -"I suppose the English of all this is, you want me to take him?" said -the squire.--"Throth, an' your honour, that's just it--if your honour -would be plazed." - -"What can he do?"--"Anything, your honour." - -"That means _nothing_, I suppose," said the squire.--"Oh, no, sir. -Everything, I mane, that you would desire him to do." - -To every one of these assurances on his mother's part Andy made a bow -and a scrape. - -"Can he take care of horses?"--"The best of care, sir," said the mother, -while the miller, who was standing behind the squire waiting for orders, -made a grimace at Andy, who was obliged to cram his face to his hat to -hide the laugh, which he could hardly smother from being heard, as well -as seen. - -"Let him come, then, and help in the stables, and we'll see what he can -do."--"May the Lord--" - -"That'll do--there, now go."--"Oh, sure, but I'll pray for you, and--" - -"Will you go?"--"And may angels make your honour's bed this blessed -night, I pray!" - -"If you don't go, your son shan't come." - -Judy and her hopeful boy turned to the right-about in double-quick time, -and hurried down the avenue. - -The next day Andy was duly installed into his office of stable-helper; -and, as he was a good rider, he was soon made whipper-in to the hounds, -as there was a want of such a functionary in the establishment; and -Andy's boldness in this capacity made him soon a favourite with the -squire, who was one of those rollicking boys on the pattern of the old -school, who scorned the attentions of a regular valet, and let any one -that chance threw in his way bring him his boots, or his hot water for -shaving, or his coat, whenever it _was_ brushed. One morning, Andy, who -was very often the attendant on such occasions, came to his room with -hot water. He tapped at the door. - -"Who's that?" said the squire, who was but just risen, and did not know -but it might be one of the women servants.--"It's me, sir." - -"Oh--Andy! Come in."--"Here's the hot wather, sir," said Andy, bearing -an enormous tin can. - -"Why, what the d--l brings that tin can here? You might as well bring -the stable-bucket."--"I beg your pardon, sir," said Andy retreating. In -two minutes more Andy came back, and, tapping at the door, put in his -head cautiously, and said, "The maids in the kitchen, your honour, says -there's not so much hot wather ready." - -"Did I not see it a moment since in your hands?"--"Yes, sir, but that's -not nigh the full o' the stable-bucket." - -"Go along, you stupid thief! and get me some hot water directly."--"Will -the can do, sir?" - -"Ay, anything, so you make haste." - -Off posted Andy, and back he came with the can. - -"Where'll I put it, sir?"--"Throw this out," said the squire, handing -Andy a jug containing some cold water, meaning the jug to be replenished -with the hot. - -Andy took the jug, and, the window of the room being open, he very -deliberately threw the jug out. The squire stared with wonder, and at -last said, - -"What did you do that for?"--"Sure you _towld_ me to throw it out, sir." - -"Go out of this, you thick-headed villain!" said the squire, throwing -his boots at Andy's head, along with some very neat curses. Andy -retreated, and thought himself a very ill-used person. - -Though Andy's regular business was "whipper-in," yet he was liable to -be called on for the performance of various other duties: he sometimes -attended at table when the number of guests required that all the subs -should be put in requisition, or rode on some distant errand for "the -mistress," or drove out the nurse and children on the jaunting-car; and -many were the mistakes, delays, or accidents arising from Handy Andy's -interference in such matters; but, as they were never serious, and -generally laughable, they never cost him the loss of his place or the -squire's favour, who rather enjoyed Andy's blunders. - -The first time Andy was admitted into the mysteries of the dining-room, -great was his wonder. The butler took him in to give him some previous -instructions, and Andy was so lost in admiration at the sight of the -assembled glass and plate, that he stood with his mouth and eyes wide -open, and scarcely heard a word that was said to him. After the head-man -had been dinning his instructions into him for some time, he said he -might go until his attendance was required. But Andy moved not; he stood -with his eyes fixed by a sort of fascination on some object that seemed -to rivet them with the same unaccountable influence that the snake -exercises over its victim. - -"What are you looking at?" said the butler.--"Them things, sir," said -Andy, pointing to some silver forks. - -"Is it the forks?" said the butler.--"Oh no, sir! I know what forks is -very well; but I never seen them things afore." - -"What things do you mean?"--"These things, sir," said Andy, taking up -one of the silver forks, and turning it round and round in his hand -in utter astonishment, while the butler grinned at his ignorance, and -enjoyed his own superior knowledge. - -"Well!" said Andy, after a long pause, "the divil be from me if ever I -seen a silver spoon split that way before." - -The butler laughed a horse-laugh, and made a standing joke of Andy's -split spoon; but time and experience made Andy less impressed with -wonder at the show of plate and glass, and the split spoons became -familiar as 'household words' to him; yet still there were things in -the duties of table attendance beyond Andy's comprehension,--he used to -hand cold plates for fish, and hot plates for jelly, &c. But 'one day,' -as Zanga says,--'one day' he was thrown off his centre in a remarkable -degree by a bottle of soda water. - -It was when that combustible was first introduced into Ireland as a -dinner beverage that the occurrence took place, and Andy had the luck to -be the person to whom a gentlemen applied for some soda-water. - -"Sir?" said Andy.--"Soda-water," said the guest, in that subdued tone in -which people are apt to name their wants at a dinner-table. - -Andy went to the butler. "Mr. Morgan, there's a gintleman----"--"Let me -alone, will you?" said Mr. Morgan. - -Andy manoeuvred round him a little longer, and again essayed to be -heard. - -"Mr. Morgan!"--"Don't you see I'm as busy as I can be! Can't you do it -yourself?" - -"I dunna what he wants."--"Well, go and ax him," said Mr. Morgan. - -Andy went off as he was bidden, and came behind the thirsty gentleman's -chair, with "I beg your pardon sir." - -"Well!" said the gentleman. - -"I beg your pardon, sir; but what's this you ax'd me for?"--"Soda-water." - -"What, sir?"--"Soda-water; but, perhaps, you have not any." - -"Oh, there's plenty in the house, sir! Would you like it hot, sir." - -The gentleman laughed, and, supposing the new fashion was not understood -in the present company, said "Never mind." - -But Andy was too anxious to please, to be so satisfied, and again -applied to Mr. Morgan. - -"Sir!" said he.--"Bad luck to you! can't you let me alone?" - -"There's a gintleman wants some soap and wather." - -"Some what?"--"Soap and wather, sir." - -"Divil sweep you!--Soda-wather you mane. You'll get it under the -sideboard." - -"Is it in the can, sir?"--"The curse o' Crum'll on you--in the bottles." - -"Is this it, sir?" said Andy, producing a bottle of ale.--"No, bad cess -to you!--the little bottles." - -"Is it the little bottles with no bottoms, sir?"--"I wish _you_ wor in -the bottom o' the say!" said Mr. Morgan, who was fuming and puffing, -and rubbing down his face with his napkin, as he was hurrying to all -quarters of the room, or, as Andy said, in praising his activity, that -he was "like bad luck,--everywhere." - -"There they are!" said Morgan, at last. - -"Oh! them bottles that won't stand," said Andy; "sure, them's what I -said, with no bottoms to them. How'll I open it--it's tied down?"--"Cut -the cord, you fool!" - -Andy did as he was desired; and he happened at the time to hold the -bottle of soda-water on a level with the candles that shed light over -the festive board from a large silver branch, and the moment he made the -incision, bang went the bottle of soda, knocking out two of the lights -with the projected cork, which, performing its parabola the length of -the room, struck the squire himself in the eye at the foot of the table, -while the hostess at the head had a cold-bath down her back. Andy, when -he saw the soda-water jumping out of the bottle, held it from him at -arm's length; every fizz it made, exclaiming, "Ow!--ow!--ow!" and, at -last, when the bottle was empty, he roared out, "Oh, Lord!--it's all -gone!" - -Great was the commotion;--few could resist laughter except the ladies, -who all looked at their gowns, not liking the mixture of satin and -soda-water. The extinguished candles were relighted,--the squire got his -eye open again,--and, the next time he perceived the butler sufficiently -near to speak to him, he said, in a low and hurried tone of deep anger, -while he knit his brow, "Send that fellow out of the room!" but, within -the same instant, resumed the former smile, that beamed on all around as -if nothing had happened. - -Andy was expelled the _salle à manger_ in disgrace, and for days kept -out of his master's and mistress's way: in the mean time the butler -made a good story of the thing in the servants' hall; and, when he held -up Andy's ignorance to ridicule, by telling how he asked for "soap and -water," Andy was given the name of "Suds," and was called by no other, -for months after. - -But, though Andy's function in the interior were suspended, his services -in out-of-door affairs were occasionally put in requisition. But here -his evil genius still haunted him, and he put his foot in a piece of -business his master sent him upon one day, which was so simple as to -defy almost the chance of Andy making any mistake about it; but Andy was -very ingenious in his own particular line. - -"Ride into the town, and see if there's a letter for me," said the -squire, one day, to our hero.--"Yis, sir." - -"You know where to go?"--"To the town, sir." - -"But do you know where to go in the town?"--"No, sir." - -"And why don't you ask, you stupid thief?"--"Sure, I'd find out, sir." - -"Didn't I often tell you to ask what you're to do, when you don't -know?"--"Yis, sir." - -"And why don't you?"--"I don't like to be throublesome, sir." - -"Confound you!" said the squire; though he could not help laughing at -Andy's excuse for remaining in ignorance. - -"Well," continued he, "go to the post-office. You know the post-office, -I suppose?"--"Yis, sir; where they sell gunpowdher." - -"You're right for once," said the squire; for his Majesty's postmaster -was the person who had the privilege of dealing in the aforesaid -combustible. "Go then to the post-office, and ask for a letter for me. -Remember,--not gunpowder, but a letter." - -"Yis, sir," said Andy, who got astride of his hack, and trotted away to -the post-office. On arriving at the shop of the postmaster, (for that -person carried on a brisk trade in groceries, gimlets, broad-cloth, and -linen-drapery,) Andy presented himself at the counter, and said, - -"I want a letther, sir, if you plase." - -"Who do you want it for?" said the postmaster, in a tone which Andy -considered an aggression upon the sacredness of private life: so Andy -thought the coolest contempt he could throw upon the prying impertinence -of the postmaster was to repeat his question. - -"I want a letther, sir, if you plase." - -"And who do you want it for?" repeated the postmaster. - -"What's that to you?" said Andy. - -The postmaster, laughing at his simplicity, told him he could not tell -what letter to give him unless he told him the direction. - -"The directions I got was to get a letther here,--that's the directions." - -"Who gave you those directions?"--"The masther." - -"And who's your master?"--"What consarn is that o' yours?" - -"Why, you stupid rascal! if you don't tell me his name, how can I give -you a letter?"--"You could give it if you liked; but you're fond of -axin' impidint questions, bekase you think I'm simple." - -"Go along out o' this. Your master must be as great a goose as yourself -to send such a messenger."--"Bad luck to your impidince!" said Andy; "is -it Squire Egan you dar to say goose to?" - -"Oh, Squire Egan's your master, then?"--"Yis; have you anything to say -agin it?" - -"Only that I never saw you before."--"Faith, then you'll never see me -agin if I have my own consint." - -"I won't give you any letter for the squire, unless I know you're his -servant. Is there any one in the town knows you?"--"Plenty," said Andy; -"it's not every one is as ignorant as you." - -Just at this moment a person entered the house to get a letter, to -whom Andy was known; and he vouched to the postmaster that the account -he gave of himself was true.--"You may give him the squire's letter. -Have you one for me?"--"Yes, sir," said the postmaster, producing one: -"fourpence." - -The new-comer paid the fourpence postage, and left the shop with his -letter. - -"Here's a letter for the squire," said the postmaster. "You've to pay me -elevenpence postage." - -"What 'ud I pay elevenpence for?"--"For postage." - -"To the divil wid you! Didn't I see you give Mr. Delany a letther for -fourpence this minit, and a bigger letther than this; and now you want -me to pay elevenpence for this scrap of a thing. Do you think I'm a -fool?" - -"No; but I'm sure of it," said the postmaster.--"Well, you're welkim to -think what you plase; but don't be delayin' me now; here's fourpence for -you, and gi' me the letther." - -"Go along, you stupid thief!" said the postmaster, taking up the letter, -and going to serve a customer with a mousetrap. - -While this person and many others were served, Andy lounged up and down -the shop, every now and then putting in his head in the middle of the -customers, and saying, "Will you gi' me the letther?" - -He waited for above half an hour, in defiance of the anathemas of the -postmaster, and at last left, when he found it impossible to get the -common justice for his master which he thought he deserved as well as -another man; for, under this impression, Andy determined to give no more -than the fourpence. - -The squire in the mean time was getting impatient for his return, -and, when Andy made his appearance, asked if there was a letter for -him.--"There is, sir," said Andy. - -"Then give it to me."--"I haven't it, sir." - -"What do you mean?"--"He wouldn't give it to me, sir." - -"Who wouldn't give it to you?"--"That owld chate beyant in the -town,--wanting to charge double for it." - -"Maybe it's a double letter. Why the devil didn't you pay what he asked, -sir?"--"Arrah, sir, why would I let you be chated. It's not a double -letther at all: not above half the size o' one Mr. Delany got before my -face for fourpence." - -"You'll provoke me to break your neck some day, you vagabond! Ride back -for your life, you omadhaun! and pay whatever he asks, and get me the -letter."--"Why, sir, I tell you he was sellin' them before my face for -fourpence a-piece." - -"Go back, you scoundrel! or I'll horsewhip you; and if you're longer -than an hour, I'll have you ducked in the horse-pond!" - -Andy vanished, and made a second visit to the post-office. When he -arrived, two other persons were getting letters, and the postmaster was -selecting the epistles for each, from a parcel of them that lay before -him on the counter; at the same time many shop customers were waiting to -be served. - -"I'm for that letther," said Andy.--"I'll attend to you by-and-by." - -"The masther's in a hurry."--"Let him wait till his hurry's over." - -"He'll murther me if I'm not back soon."--"I'm glad to hear it." - -While the postmaster went on with such provoking answers to these -appeals for despatch, Andy's eye caught the heap of letters that lay on -the counter; so, while certain weighing of soap and tobacco was going -forward, he contrived to become possessed of two letters from the heap; -and, having effected that, waited patiently enough until it was the -great man's pleasure to give him the missive directed to his master. - -Then did Andy bestride his hack, and, in triumph at his trick on the -postmaster, rattle along the road homeward as fast as his hack could -carry him. He came into the squire's presence, his face beaming with -delight, and an air of self-satisfied superiority in his manner, quite -unaccountable to his master, until he pulled forth his hand, which had -been grubbing up his prizes from the bottom of his pocket; and holding -three letters over his head, while he said "Look at that!" he next -slapped them down under his broad fist on the table before the squire, -saying, - -"Well! if he did make me pay elevenpence, by gor, I brought your honour -the worth o' your money, any how!" - - - - - THE LEGEND OF MANOR HALL - BY THE AUTHOR OF "HEADLONG HALL." - - Old Farmer Wall, of Manor Hall, - To market drove his wain: - Along the road it went well stowed - With sacks of golden grain. - - His station he took, but in vain did he look - For a customer all the morn; - Though the farmers all, save Farmer Wall, - They sold off all their corn. - - Then home he went sore discontent, - And many an oath he swore, - And he kicked up rows with his children and spouse, - When they met him at the door. - - Next market-day, he drove away - To the town his loaded wain: - The farmers all, save Farmer Wall, - They sold off all their grain. - - No bidder he found, and he stood astound - At the close of the market-day, - When the market was done, and the chapmen were gone - Each man his several way. - - He stalked by his load along the road; - His face with wrath was red: - His arms he tossed, like a goodman crossed - In seeking his daily bread. - - His face was red, and fierce was his tread, - And with lusty voice cried he: - "My corn I'll sell to the devil of hell, - If he'll my chapman be." - - These words he spoke just under an oak - Seven hundred winters old; - And he straight was aware of a man sitting there - On the roots and grassy mould. - - The roots rose high o'er the green-sward dry, - And the grass around was green, - Save just the space of the stranger's place, - Where it seemed as fire had been. - - All scorched was the spot, as gipsy-pot - Had swung and bubbled there: - The grass was marred, the roots were charred, - And the ivy stems were bare. - - The stranger up-sprung: to the farmer he flung - A loud and friendly hail, - And he said, "I see well, thou hast corn to sell, - And I'll buy it on the nail." - - The twain in a trice agreed on the price; - The stranger his earnest paid, - And with horses and wain to come for the grain - His own appointment made. - - The farmer cracked his whip, and tracked - His way right merrily on: - He struck up a song, as he trudged along, - For joy that his job was done. - - His children fair he danced in the air; - His heart with joy was big; - He kissed his wife; he seized a knife, - He slew a suckling pig. - - The faggots burned, the porkling turned - And crackled before the fire; - And an odour arose, that was sweet in the nose - Of a passing ghostly friar. - - He twirled at the pin, he entered in, - He sate down at the board; - The pig he blessed, when he saw it well dressed, - And the humming ale out-poured. - - The friar laughed, the friar quaffed, - He chirped like a bird in May; - The farmer told how his corn he had sold - As he journeyed home that day. - - The friar he quaffed, but no longer he laughed, - He changed from red to pale: - "Oh, helpless elf! 'tis the fiend himself - To whom thou hast made thy sale!" - - The friar he quaffed, he took a deep draught; - He crossed himself amain: - "Oh, slave of pelf! 'tis the devil himself - To whom thou hast sold thy grain!" - - "And sure as the day, he'll fetch thee away, - With the corn which thou hast sold, - If thou let him pay o'er one tester more - Than thy settled price in gold." - - The farmer gave vent to a loud lament, - The wife to a long outcry; - Their relish for pig and ale was flown; - The friar alone picked every bone, - And drained the flagon dry. - - The friar was gone: the morning dawn - Appeared, and the stranger's wain - Come to the hour, with six-horse power, - To fetch the purchased grain. - - The horses were black: on their dewy track - Light steam from the ground up-curled; - Long wreaths of smoke from their nostrils broke, - And their tails like torches whirled. - - More dark and grim, in face and limb, - Seemed the stranger than before, - As his empty wain, with steeds thrice twain, - Drew up to the farmer's door. - - On the stranger's face was a sly grimace, - As he seized the sacks of grain; - And, one by one, till left were none, - He tossed them on the wain. - - And slily he leered, as his hand up-reared - A purse of costly mould, - Where, bright and fresh, through a silver mesh, - Shone forth the glistering gold. - - The farmer held out his right hand stout, - And drew it back with dread; - For in fancy he heard each warning word - The supping friar had said. - - His eye was set on the silver net; - His thoughts were in fearful strife; - When, sudden as fate, the glittering bait - Was snatched by his loving wife. - - And, swift as thought, the stranger caught - The farmer his waist around, - And at once the twain and the loaded wain - Sank through the rifted ground. - - The gable-end wall of Manor Hall - Fell in ruins on the place: - That stone-heap old the tale has told - To each succeeding race. - - The wife gave a cry that rent the sky - At her goodman's downward flight; - But she held the purse fast, and a glance she cast - To see that all was right. - - 'Twas the fiend's full pay for her goodman grey, - And the gold was good and true; - Which made her declare, that "his dealings were fair, - To give the devil his due." - - She wore the black pall for Farmer Wall, - From her fond embraces riven: - But she won the vows of a younger spouse - With the gold which the fiend had given. - - Now, farmers, beware what oaths you swear - When you cannot sell your corn; - Lest, to bid and buy, a stranger be nigh, - With hidden tail and horn. - - And, with good heed, the moral a-read, - Which is of this tale the pith, - If your corn you sell to the fiend of hell, - You may sell yourself therewith. - - And if by mishap you fall in the trap,-- - Would you bring the fiend to shame, - Lest the tempting prize should dazzle her eyes, - Lock up your frugal dame. - - - - - TERENCE O'SHAUGHNESSY'S FIRST ATTEMPT TO GET MARRIED. - BY THE AUTHOR OF "STORIES OF WATERLOO." - -Yes--here I am, Terence O'Shaughnessy, an honest major of foot, five -feet eleven and a half, and forty-one, if I only live till Michaelmas. -Kicked upon the world before the down had blackened on my chin, Fortune -and I have been wrestling from the cradle;--and yet I had little -to tempt the jade's malevolence. The youngest son of an excellent -gentleman, who, with an ill-paid rental of twelve hundred pounds, kept -his wife in Bath, and his hounds in Tipperary, my patrimony would -have scarcely purchased tools for a highwayman, when in my tenth year -my father's sister sent for me to Roundwood; for, hearing that I was -regularly going to the devil, she had determined to redeem me, if she -could. - -My aunt Honor was the widow of a captain of dragoons, who got his -quietus in the Low Countries some years before I saw the light. His -relict had, in compliment to the memory of her departed lord, eschewed -matrimony, and, like a Christian woman, devoted her few and evil days -to cards and religion. She was a true specimen of an Irish dowager. Her -means were small, her temper short. She was stiff as a ramrod, and proud -as a field-marshal. To her, my education and future settlement in life -were entirely confided, as one brief month deprived me of both parents. -My mother died in a state of insolvency, greatly regretted by every body -in Bath to whom she was indebted; and before her disconsolate husband -had time to overlook a moiety of the card claims transmitted for his -liquidation, he broke his neck in attempting to leap the pound-wall of -Oranmore, for a bet of a rump and dozen. Of course he was waked, and -buried like a gentleman,--every thing sold off by the creditors--my -brothers sent to school--and I left to the tender mercy and sole -management of the widow of Captain O'Finn. - -My aunt's guardianship continued seven years, and at the expiration of -that time I was weary of her thrall, and she tired of my tutelage. I -was now at an age when some walk of life must be selected and pursued. -For any honest avocation I had, as it was universally admitted, neither -abilities nor inclination. What was to be done? and how was I to be -disposed of? A short deliberation showed that there was but one path -for me to follow, and I was handed over to that _refugium peccatorum_, -the army, and placed as a volunteer in a regiment just raised, with a -promise from the colonel that I should be promoted to the first ensigncy -that became vacant. - -Great was our mutual joy when Mrs. O'Finn and I were about to -part company. I took an affectionate leave of all my kindred and -acquaintances, and even, in the fulness of my heart, shook hands with -the schoolmaster, though in boyhood I had devoted him to the infernal -gods for his wanton barbarity. But my tenderest parting was reserved -for my next-door neighbour, the belle among the village beauties, and -presumptive heiress to the virtues and estates of Quartermaster MacGawly. - -Biddy MacGawly was a year younger than myself; and, to do her justice, -a picture of health and comeliness. Lord! what an eye she had!--and her -leg! nothing but the gout would prevent a man from following it, to the -very end of Oxford-street. Biddy and I were next neighbours--our houses -joined--the gardens were only separated by a low hedge, and by standing -on an inverted flower-pot one could accomplish a kiss across it easily. -There was no harm in the thing--it was merely for the fun of trying an -experiment--and when a geranium was damaged, we left the blame upon the -cats. - -Although there was a visiting acquaintance between the retired -quartermaster and the relict of the defunct dragoon, never had any -cordiality existed between the houses. My aunt O'Finn was so lofty in -all things appertaining to her consequence, as if she had been the widow -of a common-councilman; and Roger MacGawly, having scraped together a -good round sum, by the means quartermasters have made money since the -days of Julius Cæsar, was not inclined to admit any inferiority on his -part. Mrs. O'Finn could never imagine that any circumstances could -remove the barrier in dignity which stood between the non-commissioned -officer and the captain. While arguing on the saw, that "a living ass -is better than a dead lion," Roger contended that he was as good a -man as Captain O'Finn; he, Roger, being alive and merry in the town -of Ballinamore, while the departed commander had been laid under a -"counterpane of daisies" in some counterscarp in the Low Countries. -Biddy and I laughed at the feuds of our superiors; and on the evening -of a desperate blow-up, we met at sunset in the garden--agreed that the -old people were fools--and resolved that nothing should interrupt our -friendly relations. Of course the treaty was ratified with a kiss, for I -recollect that next morning the cats were heavily censured for capsizing -a box of mignonette. - -No wonder then, that I parted from Biddy with regret. I sat with her -till we heard the quartermaster scrape his feet at the hall-door on his -return from his club, and kissing poor Biddy tenderly, as Roger entered -by the front, I levanted by the back-door. I fancied myself desperately -in love, and was actually dreaming of my dulcinea when my aunt's maid -called me before day, to prepare for the stage-couch that was to convey -me to my regiment in Dublin. - -In a few weeks an ensigncy dropped in, and I got it. Time slipped -insensibly away--months became years--and three passed before I -revisited Ballinamore. I heard, at stated periods, from Mrs. O'Finn. -The letters were generally a detail of bad luck or bad health. For the -last quarter she had never marked honours--or for the last week closed -an eye with rheumatism and lumbago. Still, as these _jérémiades_ covered -my small allowance, they were welcome as a lover's billet. Of course, in -these despatches the neighbours were duly mentioned, and every calamity -occurring since her "last," was faithfully chronicled. The MacGawlys -held a conspicuous place in my aunt's quarterly notices. Biddy had got a -new gown--or Biddy had got a new piano--but since the dragoons had come -to town there was no bearing her. Young Hastings was never out of the -house--she hoped it would end well--but every body knew a light dragoon -could have little respect for the daughter of a quartermaster; and Mrs. -O'Finn ended her observations by hinting that if Roger went seldomer to -his club, and Biddy more frequently to mass, why probably in the end it -would be better for both of them. - -I re-entered the well-remembered street of Ballinamore late in the -evening, after an absence of three years. My aunt was on a visit, and -she had taken that as a convenient season for having her domicile newly -painted. I halted at the inn, and after dinner strolled over the any to -visit my quondam acquaintances, the MacGawlys. - -If I had intended a surprise, my design would have been a failure. -The quartermaster's establishment were on the _qui vive_. The fact -was, that since the removal of the dragoons, Ballinamore had been -dull as ditch-water; the arrival of a stranger in a post-chaise, of -course had created a sensation in the place, and, before the driver -had unharnessed, the return of Lieutenant O'Shaughnessy was regularly -gazetted, and the MacGawlys, in anticipation of a visit, were ready to -receive me. - -I knocked at the door, and a servant with a beefsteak collar opened it. -Had Roger mounted a livery? Ay--faith--there it was; and I began to -recollect that my aunt O'Finn had omened badly from the first moment a -squadron of the 18th lights had entered Ballinamore. - -I found Roger in the hall. He shook my hand, swore it was an agreeable -surprise, ushered me into the dining-room, and called for hot water and -tumblers. We sat down. Deeply did he interest himself in all that had -befallen me--deeply regret the absence of my honoured aunt--but I must -not stay at the inn, I should be his guest; and, to my astonishment, -it was announced that the gentleman in the red collar had been already -despatched to transport my luggage to the house. Excuses were idle. -Roger's domicile was to be head-quarters; and when I remembered my old -flame, Biddy, I concluded that I might for the short time I had to stay, -be in a less agreeable establishment than the honest quartermaster's. - -I was mortified to hear that Biddy had been indisposed. It was a bad -cold, she had not been out for a month; but she would muffle herself and -meet me in the drawing-room. This, too, was unluckily a night of great -importance in the club. The new curate was to be balloted for; Roger had -proposed him; and, _ergo_, Roger, as a true man, was bound to be present -at the ceremony. The thing was readily arranged. We finished a second -tumbler, the quartermaster betook himself to the King's Arms, and the -lieutenant, meaning myself; to the drawing-room of my old inamorata. - -There was a visible change in Roger's domicile. The house was newly -papered; and, leaving the livery aside, there was a greet increase of -gentility throughout the whole establishment. Instead of bounding to -the presence by three stairs at a time, as I used to do in lang syne, I -was ceremoniously paraded to the lady's chamber by him of the beefsteak -collar; and there, reclining languidly on a sofa, and wrapped in a -voluminous shawl, Biddy MacGawly held out her hand to welcome her old -confederate. - -"My darling Biddy!"--"My dear Terence!" and the usual preliminaries -were got over. I looked at my old flame--she was greatly changed, and -three years had wrought a marvellous alteration. I left her a sprightly -girl--she was now a woman--and decidedly a very pretty one; although the -rosiness of seventeen was gone, and a delicacy that almost indicated -bad health had succeeded; "but," thought I, "it's all owing to the cold." - -There was a guarded propriety in Biddy's bearing, that appeared almost -unnatural. The warm advances of old friendship were repressed; and -one who had mounted a flower-pot to kiss me across a hedge, recoiled -from any exhibition of our former tenderness. Well, it was all as it -should be. Then I was a boy, and now a man. Young women cannot be too -particular, and Biddy MacGawly rose higher in my estimation. - -Biddy was stouter than she promised to be, when we parted, but the -eye was as dark and lustrous, and the ankle as taper as when it last -had demolished a geranium. Gradually her reserve abated; old feelings -removed a constrained formality--we laughed and talked--ay--and kissed -as we had done formerly; and when the old quartermaster's latch-key was -heard unclosing the street-door, I found myself admitting in confidence -and a whisper, that "I would marry if I could." What reply Biddy would -have returned, I cannot tell, for Roger summoned me to the parlour; -and as her cold prevented her from venturing down, she bade me an -affectionate good-night. Of course she kissed me at parting--and it was -done as ardently and innocently as if the hawthorn hedge divided us. - -Roger had left his companions earlier than he usually did, in order -to honour me, his guest. The new butler paraded oysters, and down we -sat _tête-à-tête_. When supper was removed, and each had fabricated a -red-hot tumbler from the tea-kettle, the quartermaster stretched his -long legs across the hearth-rug, and with great apparent solicitude -inquired into all that had befallen me since I had assumed the -shoulder-knot and taken to the trade of war. - -"Humph!"--he observed--"two steps in three years; not bad considering -there was neither money nor interest. D--it! I often wish that Biddy -was a boy. Never was such a time to purchase on. More regiments to be -raised, and promotion will be at a discount. Sir Hugh Haughton married -a stockbroker's widow with half a plum, and paid in the two thousand I -had lent him. Zounds! if Biddy were a boy, and that money well applied, -I would have her a regiment in a twelvemonth." - -"Phew!" I thought to myself. "I see what the old fellow is driving at." - -"There never would be such another opportunity," Roger continued. "An -increased force will produce an increased difficulty in effecting it. -Men will be worth their own weight in money; and d--me, a fellow who -could raise a few, might have any thing he asked for." - -I remarked that, with some influence and a good round sum, recruits -might still be found. - -"Ay, easy enough, and not much money either, if one knew how to go -about the thing. Get two or three smart chaps; let them watch fairs and -patterns, mind their hits when the bumpkins got drunk, and find out when -fellows were hiding from a warrant. D--me, I would raise a hundred, -while you would say Jack Robinson. Pay a friendly magistrate; attest the -scoundrels before they were sober enough to cry off, bundle them to the -regiment next morning; and if a rascal ran away after the commanding -officer passed a receipt for him, why all the better, for you could -relist him when he came home again." - -I listened attentively, though in all this the cloven foot appeared. The -whole was the plan of a crimp; and, if Roger was not belied, trafficking -in "food for powder," had realized more of his wealth than slop-shoes -and short measure. - -During the developement of his project for promotion, the quartermaster -and I had found it necessary to replenish frequently, and with the third -tumbler Roger came nearer to business. - -"Often thought it a pity, and often said so in the club, that a fine -smashing fellow like you, Terence, had not the stuff to push you on. -What the devil signifies family, and blood, and all that balderdash. -There's your aunt, worthy woman; but sky-high about a dead captain. -D--me, all folly. Were I a young man, I'd get hold of some girl with -the wherewithal, and I would double-distance half the highfliers for a -colonelcy." - -This was pretty significant--Roger had come to the scratch, and there -was no mistaking him. We separated for the night. I dreamed, and in -fancy was blessed with a wife, and honoured with a command. Nothing -could be more entrancing than my visions; and when the quartermaster's -_maître d'hôtel_ roused me in the morning, I was engaged in a friendly -argument with my beloved Biddy, as to which of his grandfathers our heir -should be called after, and whether the lovely babe should be christened -Roderick or Roger. - -Biddy was not at breakfast; the confounded cold still confined her to -her apartment; but she hoped to meet me at dinner, and I must endure -her absence until then, as I best could. Having engaged to return at -five, I walked out to visit my former acquaintances. From all of them -I received a warm welcome, and all exhibited some surprise at hearing -that I was domesticated with the quartermaster. I comprehended the -cause immediately. My aunt and Roger had probably a fresh quarrel; but -his delicacy had prevented him from communicating it. This certainly -increased my respect for the worthy man, and made me estimate his -hospitality the more highly. Still there was an evident reserve touching -the MacGawlys; and once or twice, when dragoons were mentioned, I -fancied I could detect a significant look pass between the persons with -whom I was conversing. - -It was late when I had finished my calls; Roger had requested me to -be regular to time, and five was fast approaching. I turned my steps -towards his dwelling-place, when, at a corner of a street, I suddenly -encountered an old schoolfellow on horseback, and great was our mutual -delight at meeting so unexpectedly. We were both hurried, however, and -consequently our greeting was a short one. After a few general questions -and replies, we were on the point of separating, when my friend pulled -up. - -"But where are you hanging out?" said Frederick Maunsell. "I know your -aunt is absent."--"I am at old MacGawly's." - -"The devil you are! Of course you heard all about Biddy and young -Hastings!"--"Not a syllable. Tell it to me." - -"I have not time--it's a long story; but come to breakfast, and I'll -give you all the particulars in the morning. Adieu!" He struck the spurs -to his horse, and cantered off, singing-- - - "Oh! she loved a bold dragoon, - With his long sword, saddle, bridle." - -I was thunderstruck. "Confound the dragoon!" thought I, "and his long -sword, saddle, and bridle, into the bargain. Gad! I wish Maunsell had -told me what it was. Well--what, suppose I ask Biddy herself?" I had -half resolved that evening to have asked her a very different question; -but, 'faith! I determined now to make some inquiries touching Cornet -Hastings of the 13th, before Miss Biddy MacGawly should be invited to -become Mrs. O'Shaughnessy. - -My host announced that dinner was quite ready, and I found Biddy in -the eating-room. She was prettily dressed, as an invalid should be; -and, notwithstanding her cold, looked remarkably handsome. I should to -a certainty have been over head and ears in love, had not Maunsell's -innuendo respecting the young dragoon operated as a damper. - -Dinner proceeded as dinners always do, and Roger was bent on -hospitality. I fancied that Biddy regarded me with some interest, while -momentarily I felt an increasing tenderness that would have ended, I -suppose, in a direct declaration, but for the monitory hint which I had -received from my old schoolfellow. I was dying to know what Maunsell's -allusion pointed at, and I casually threw out a feeler. - -"And you are so dull, you say? Yes, Biddy, you must miss the dragoons -sadly. By the way, there was a friend of mine here. Did you know Tom -Hastings?" - -I never saw an elderly gentleman and his daughter more confused. Biddy -blushed like a peony, and Roger seemed desperately bothered. At last the -quartermaster responded, - -"Fact is--as a military man, showed the cavalry some -attention--constantly at the house--anxious to be civil--helped them -to make out forage--but d--d wild--obliged to cut, and keep them at a -distance." - -"Ay, Maunsell hinted something of that." - -I thought Biddy would have fainted, and Roger grew red as the footman's -collar. - -"Pshaw! d--d gossiping chap that Maunsell. Young Hastings--infernal -hemp--used to ride with Biddy. Persuaded her to get on a horse of -his--ran away--threw her--confined at this inn for a week--never -admitted him to my house afterwards." - -Oh! here was the whole mystery unravelled! No wonder Roger was -indignant, and that Biddy would redden at the recollection. It was -devilish unhandsome of Mr. Hastings; and I expressed my opinion in a way -that evidently pleased my host and his heiress, and showed how much I -disapproved of the conduct of that _roué_ the dragoon. - -My fair friend rose to leave us. Her shawl caught in the chair, and I -was struck with the striking change a few years had effected in my old -playfellow. She was grown absolutely stout. I involuntarily noticed it. - -"Lord! Biddy, how fat you are grown!" - -A deeper blush than even when I named that luckless dragoon, flushed -to her very brows at the observation, while the quartermaster rather -testily exclaimed, - -"Ay, she puts on her clothes as if they were tossed on with a pitchfork, -since she got this cold. D--it! Biddy. I say, tighten yourself, woman! -Tighten yourself, or I won't be plased!" - -Well, here was a load of anxiety removed, and Maunsell's mischievous -innuendo satisfactorily explained away. Biddy was right in resenting -the carelessness that exposed her to ridicule and danger; and it was a -proper feeling in the old quartermaster to cut the man who would mount -his heiress on a break-neck horse. Gradually we resumed the conversation -of last night--there was the regiment, if I chose to have it--and when -Roger departed for the club, I made up my mind, while ascending the -stairs, to make a splice with Biddy, and become Colonel O'Shaughnessy. - -Thus determined, I need not particularise what passed upon the sofa. -My wooing was short, sharp, and decisive; and no affected delicacy -restrained Biddy from confessing that the flame was mutual. My fears -had been moonshine; my suspicions groundless. Biddy had not valued -the dragoon a brass button; and--poor soul!--she hid her head upon my -shoulder, and, in a soft whisper, acknowledged that she never had cared -a _traneeine_[1] for any body in the wide world but myself! - -It was a moment of exquisite delight. I told her of my prospects, and -mentioned the quartermaster's conversation. Biddy listened with deep -attention. She blushed--strove to speak--stopped--was embarrassed. I -pressed her to be courageous: and at last she deposited her head upon my -breast, and bashfully hinted that Roger was old--avarice was the vice -of age--he was fond of money--he was hoarding it certainly for her; but -still, it would be better that my promotion should be secured. Roger had -now the cash in his own possession. If we were married without delay, -it would be transferred at once; whereas something that might appear -to him advantageous, might offer, and induce her father to invest it. -But she was really shocked at herself--such a proposition would appear -so indelicate; but still, a husband's interests were too dear to be -sacrificed to maiden timidity. - -I never estimated Biddy's worth till now. She united the foresight of a -sage with the devotion of a woman. I would have been insensible indeed, -had I not testified my regard and admiration; and Biddy was still -resting on my shoulder, when the quartermaster's latch-key announced his -return from the club. - -After supper I apprised Roger of my passion for his daughter, and -modestly admitted that I had found favour in her sight. He heard my -communication, and frankly confessed that I was a son-in-law he most -approved of. Emboldened by the favourable reception of my suit, I -ventured to hint at an early day, and pleaded "a short leave between -returns," for precipitancy. The quartermaster met me like a man. - -"When people wished to marry, why, delay was balderdash. Matters -could be quickly and quietly managed. His money was ready--no bonds -or post-obits--a clean thousand in hand, and another the moment an -opening to purchase a step should occur. No use in mincing matters among -friends. Mrs. O'Finn was an excellent woman: she was a true friend, -and a good Catholic; but, d---- it, she had old-world notions about -family, and in pride the devil was a fool to her. If she came home -before the ceremony, there would be an endless fuss; and Roger concluded -by suggesting that we should be married the next evening, and give my -honoured aunt an agreeable surprise." - -That was precisely what I wanted; and a happier man never pressed a -pillow than I, after my interesting colloquy with the quartermaster. - -The last morning of my celibacy dawned. I met Roger only at the -breakfast table; for my beloved Biddy, between cold and virgin -trepidation, was _hors de combat_, and signified in a tender billet her -intention to keep her chamber, until the happy hour arrived that should -unite us in the silken bonds of Hymen. The quartermaster undertook to -conduct the nuptial preparations; a friend of his would perform the -ceremony, and the quieter the thing was done the better. After breakfast -he set out to complete all matrimonial arrangements, and I strolled into -the garden to ruminate on my approaching happiness, and bless Heaven for -the treasure I was destined to possess in Biddy MacGawly. - -No place could have been more appropriately selected for tender -meditation. _There_ was the conscious hedge, that had witnessed the -first kiss of love; ay, and for naught I knew to the contrary, the -identical flower-pot on which her sylphic form had rested; sylphic it -was no longer, for the slender girl had ripened into a stout and comely -gentlewoman; and she would be mine--mine that very evening. - -"Ah! Terence," I said in an undertone, "few men at twenty-one have -drawn such a prize. A thousand pounds! ready cash--a regiment in -perspective--a wife in hand; and such a wife--young, artless, tender, -and attached. By everything matrimonial, you have the luck of thousands!" - -My soliloquy was interrupted by a noise on the other side of the -fence. I looked over. It was my aunt's maid; and great was our mutual -astonishment. Judy blessed herself; as she ejaculated--"Holy Virgin! -Master Terence, is that you?" - -I satisfied her of my identity, and learned to my unspeakable surprise -that my aunt had returned unexpectedly, and that she had not the -remotest suspicion that her affectionate nephew, myself, was cantoned -within pistol-shot. Without consideration I hopped over the hedge, and -next minute was in the presence of my honoured protectress, the relict -of the departed captain. - -"Blessed angels!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Finn, as she took me to her arms, -and favoured me with a kiss, in which there was more blackguard[2] than -ambrosia. "Arrah! Terence, jewel; what the devil drove ye here? Lord -pardon me for mentioning him!" - -"My duty, dear aunt. I am but a week landed from Jersey, and could not -rest till I got leave from the colonel to run down between returns, and -pay you a hurried visit. Lord! how well you look!" - -"Ah! then, Terence, jewel, it's hard for me to look well, considering -the way I have been fretted by the tenants, and afflicted with the -lumbago. Denis Clark--may the widow's curse follow him wherever he -goes!--bundled off to America with a neighbour's wife, and a year and a -half's rent along with her, the thief! And then, since Holland tide, I -have not had a day's health." - -"Well, from your looks I should never have supposed it. But you were -visiting at Meldrum Castle?" - -"Yes, faith, and a dear visit it was. Nothing but half-crown whist, -and unlimited brag. Lost seventeen points last Saturday night. It was -Sunday morning, Lord pardon us for playing! But what was that to my luck -yesterday evening! Bragged twice for large pools, with red nines and -black knaves; and Mrs. Cooney, both times, showed natural aces! If ever -woman sold herself, she has. The Lord stand between us and evil! Well, -Terence, you'll be expecting your quarter's allowance. We'll make it out -somehow--Heigh-ho! Between bad cards and runaway tenants, I can't attend -to my soul as I ought, and Holy Week coming!" - -I expressed due sympathy for her losses, and regretted that her health, -bodily and spiritual, was so indifferent. - -"I have no good news for you, Terence," continued Mrs. O'Finn. "Your -brother Arthur is following your poor father's example, and ruining -himself with hounds and horses. He's a weak and wilful man, and nothing -can save him, I fear. Though he never treated me with proper respect, I -strove to patch up match between him and Miss MacTeggart. Five thousand -down upon the nail, and three hundred a year, failing her mother. I -asked her here on a visit, and, though he had ridden past without -calling on me, wrote him my plan, and invited him to meet her. What do -you think, Terence, was his reply? Why, that Miss MacTeggart might go to -Bath, for he would have no call to my swivel-eyed customers. There was -a return for my kindness! as if a woman with five thousand _down_, and -three hundred a year in expectation, was required to look straight. Ah! -Terence, I wish you had been here. She went to Dublin, and was picked up -in a fortnight." - -Egad! here was an excellent opportunity to broach my own success. There -could be no harm in making the commander's widow a _confidante_; and, -after all, she had a claim upon me as my early protectress. - -"My dear aunt, I cannot be surprised at your indignation. Arthur was a -fool, and lost an opportunity that never may occur again. In fact, my -dear madam, I intended to have given you an agreeable surprise. I--I--I -am on--the very brink of matrimony!" - -"Holy Bridget!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Finn, as she crossed herself devoutly. - -"Yes, ma'am. I am engaged to a lady with two thousand pounds." - -"Is it _ready_, Terence?" said my aunt.--"Down on the table, before the -priest puts on his vestment." - -"Arrah--my blessing attend ye, Terence. I knew you would come to good. -Is she young?"--"Just twenty." - -"Is she good-looking?"--"More than that; extremely pretty, innocent, and -artless." - -"Arrah--give me another kiss, for I'm proud of ye;" and Captain O'Finn's -representative clasped me in her arms. - -"But the family, Terence; remember the old stock. Is she one of -us?"--"She is highly respectable. An only daughter, with excellent -expectations." - -"What is her father, Terence?"--"A soldier, ma'am." - -"Lord!--quite enough. He's by profession a gentleman; and we can't -expect to find every day, descendants from the kings of Connaught, -like the O'Shaughnessys and the O'Finns. But when is it to take place, -Terence?"--"Why, faith, ma'am, it was a bit of a secret; but I can keep -nothing from you." - -"And why should ye? Haven't I been to you more than a mother, Terence?" - -"I am to be married this evening." - -"This evening! Holy Saint Patrick! and you're sure of the money? It's -not a rent-charge--nothing of bills or bonds?" - -"Nothing but bank-notes; nothing but the _aragudh-sheese_."[3] - -"Ogh! my blessing be about ye night and day. Arrah, Terence, what's her -name?" - -"You'll not mention it. We want the thing done quietly." - -"Augh, Terence; and do you think I would let any thing ye told me slip? -By this cross,"--and Mrs. O'Finn bisected the forefinger of her left -hand with the corresponding digit of the right one; "the face of clay -shall never be the wiser of any thing ye mention!" - -After this desperate adjuration there was no refusing my aunt's request. - -"You know her well,"--and I looked extremely cunning. - -"Do I, Terence? Let me see--I have it. It's Ellen Robinson. No--though -her money's safe, there's but five hundred ready." - -"Guess again, aunt." - -"Is it Bessie Lloyd? No--though the old miller is rich as a Jew, he -would not part a guinea to save the whole human race, or make his -daughter a duchess."--"Far from the mark as ever, aunt." - -"Well," returned Mrs. O'Finn, with sigh, "I'm fairly puzzled." - -"Whisper!" and I playfully took her hand, and put my lips close to her -cheek. "It's--" - -"Who?--who, for the sake of Heaven?"--"Biddy MacGawly!" - -"Oh, Jasus!" ejaculated the captain's relict, as she sank upon a chair. -"I'm murdered! Give me my salts, there. Terence O'Shaughnessy, don't -touch me. I put the cross between us," and she made a crucial flourish -with her hand. "You have finished me, ye villain. Holy Virgin! what sins -have I committed, that I should be disgraced in my old age? Meat never -crossed my lips of a Friday; I was regular at mass, and never missed -confession; and, when the company were honest, played as fair as every -body else. I wish I was at peace with poor dear Pat O'Finn. Oh! murder! -murder!" - -I stared in amazement. If Roger MacGawly had been a highwayman, his -daughter could not have been an object of greater horror to Mrs O'Finn. -At last I mustered words to attempt to reason with her, but to my -desultory appeals she returned abuse fit only for a pickpocket to -receive. - -"Hear me, madam."--"Oh, you common _ommadawn_!"[4] - -"For Heaven's sake, listen!"--"Oh! that the O'Finns and the -O'Shaughnessys should be disgraced by a mean-spirited _gommouge_[5] of -your kind!" - -"You won't hear me."--"Biddy MacGawly!" she exclaimed. "Why, bad as -my poor brother, your father, was--and though he too married a devil -that has helped to ruin him, she was at all events a lady in her own -right, and cousin-german to Lord Lowestoffe. But--you--you unfortunate -disciple." - -I began to wax warm, for my aunt complimented me with all the abuse she -could muster, and there never was a cessation but when her breath failed. - -"Why, what have I done? What am I about doing?" I demanded.--"Just -going," returned Mrs. O'Finn, "to make a Judy Fitzsimmons mother of -yourself?" - -"And is it," said I, "because Miss MacGawly can't count her pedigree -from Fin Macoul that she should not discharge the duties of a wife?" - -My aunt broke in upon me. - -"There's one thing certain, that she'll discharge the duties of a -mother. Heavens! if you had married a girl with only a _blast_,[6] -your connexions might brazen it out. But a woman in such a barefaced -condition!--as if her staying in the house these three months could -blind the neighbours, and close their mouths." - -"Well, in the devil's name, will you say what objection exists to Biddy -MacGawly making me a husband to-night?"--"And a papa in three months -afterwards!" rejoined my loving aunt. - -If a shell had burst in the bivouac, I could not have been more -electrified. Dark suspicions flashed across my mind--a host of -circumstances confirmed my doubts; and I implored the widow of the -defunct dragoon to tell me all she knew. - -It was a simple, although, as far as I was concerned, not a flattering -narrative. Biddy had commenced an equestrian novitiate under the -tutelage of Lieutenant Hastings. Her progress in the art of horsemanship -was, no doubt, very satisfactory, and the pupil and the professor -frequently rode out _tête-à-tête_. Biddy, poor soul! was fearful of -exhibiting any _mal-addresse_, and of course, roads less frequented -than the king's highway were generally chosen for her riding lessons. -Gradually these excursions became more extensive; twilight, and in -summer too, often fell, before the quartermaster's heiress had returned; -and on one unfortunate occasion she was absent for a week. This caused -as desperate commotion in the town; the dowagers and old maids sat -in judgment on the case, and declared Biddy no longer visitable. In -vain her absence was ascribed to accident--a horse had run away--she -was thrown--her ankle sprained--and she was detained unavoidably at a -country inn until the injury was abated. - -In this state of things the dragoons were ordered off; and it was -whispered that there had been a desperate blow-up between the young -lady's preceptor the lieutenant, and her papa the quartermaster. Once -only had Biddy ventured out upon the mall; but she was cut dead by -her quondam acquaintances. From that day she seldom appeared abroad; -and when she did, it was always in the evening, and even then closely -muffled up. No wonder scandal was rife touching the causes of her -seclusion. A few charitably ascribed it to bad health--others to -disappointment--but the greater proportion of the fair sex attributed -her confinement to the true cause, and whispered that Miss MacGawly was -"as ladies wished to be who love their lords." - -Here was a solution to the mystery! It was now pretty easy to comprehend -why Biddy was swathed like a mummy, and Roger so ready with his cash. No -wonder the _demoiselle_ was anxious to abridge delay, and the old crimp -so obliging in procuring a priest and preparing all requisite matters or -immediate hymeneals. What was to be done? What, but denounce the frail -fair one, and annihilate that villain her father. Without a word or -explanation I caught up my hat, and left the house in a hurry, and Mrs. -O'Finn in a state of nervousness that threatened to become hysterical. - -When I reached the quartermaster's habitation, I hastened to my own -apartment, and got my traps together in double-quick. I intended to have -abdicated quietly, and favoured the intended Mrs. O'Shaughnessy with an -epistle communicating the reasons that induced me to decline the honour -of her hand; but on the landing my worthy father-in-law cut off my -retreat, and a parting _tête-a-tête_ became unavoidable. He appeared in -great spirits at the success of his interview with the parson. - -"Well, Terence, I have done the business. The old chap made a parcel of -objections; but he's poor as Lazarus--slily slipped him ten pounds, and -that quieted his scruples. He's ready at a moment's warning."--"He's a -useful person," I replied drily; "and all you want is a son-in-law." - -"A what?" exclaimed the father of Miss Biddy.--"A son-in-law!" - -"Why, what the devil do you mean?"--"Not a jot more or less than what I -say. You have procured the priest, but I suspect the bridegroom will not -be forthcoming." - -"Zounds, sir! do you mean to treat my daughter with disrespect?"--"Upon -consideration, it would be hardly fair to deprive my old friend Hastings -of his pupil. Why, with another week's private tuition Biddy might offer -her services to Astley." - -"Sir,--if you mean to be impertinent,--" and Roger began to bluster, -while the noise brought the footman to the hall, and Miss Biddy to the -banisters 'shawled to the nose.' I began to lose temper. - -"Why, you infernal old crimp!"--"You audacious young scoundrel!" - -"Oh, Jasus! gentlemen! Pace, for the sake of the blessed Mother!" cried -the butler from below. - -"Father, jewel! Terence, my only love!" screamed Miss Biddy, over the -staircase. "What is the matter?"--"He wants to be off!" roared the -quartermaster. - -"Stop, Terence, or you'll have my life to answer for."--"Lord, Biddy, -how fat you are grown!" - -"You shall fulfil your promise," cried Roger, "or I'll write to the -Horse Guards, and memorial the commander-in-chief."--"You may memorial -your best friend, the devil, you old crimp!" and I forced my way to the -hall. - -"Come back, you deceiver!" exclaimed Miss MacGawly.--"Arrah, Biddy, go -tighten yourself," said I. - -"Oh, I'm fainting!" screamed Roger's heiress. - -"Don't let him out!" roared her sire. - -The gentleman with the beefsteak collar made a demonstration to -interrupt my retreat, and in return received a box on the ear that sent -him halfway down the kitchen stairs. - -"There," I said, "give that to the old rogue, your master, with my best -compliments,"--and bounding from the hall-door, Biddy MacGawly, like -Lord Ullin's daughter, "was left lamenting!" - -Well, there is no describing the _rookawn_[7] a blow-up like this, -occasioned in a country town. I was unmercifully quizzed; but the -quartermaster and his heiress found it advisable to abdicate. Roger -removed his household goods to the metropolis--Miss Biddy favoured him -in due time with a grandson; and when I returned from South America, I -learned that "this lost love of mine" had accompanied a Welsh lieutenant -to the hymeneal altar, who, not being "over-particular" about trifles, -had obtained on the same morning a wife, an heir, and an estate--with -Roger's blessing into the bargain. - -[1] _Anglicè_, a jackstraw. - -[2] Coarse Irish snuff. - -[3] _Anglicè_, cash down. - -[4] _Anglicè_, a fool. - -[5] A simpleton. - -[6] _Anglicè_, a flaw of the reputation. - -[7] _Anglicè_, confusion - - - - - REDDY O'DRYSCULL, - SCHOOLMASTER AT WATER-GRASS-HILL, - - TO MR. BENTLEY, PUBLISHER. - -SIR,--I write to you concerning the late P.P. of this parish--his soul -to glory! for, as Virgil says,--and devil a doubt of it,-- - - _Candidus insuetum miratur limen Olympi, - Sub pedibusque videt nubes et sidera pastor._ - -His RELIQUES, sir, in two volumes, have been sent down here from Dublin, -for the use of my boys, by order of the National _Education_ Board, -with directions to cram the spalpeens all at once with such a power of -knowledge that they may forget the hunger: which plan, between you and -me, (though I say it that oughtn't) is all sheer _bladderum-skate_: -for, as Juvenal maintains, _jejunus stomachus_, &c. &c.--an empty bag -won't stand; you must first fill it with praties. Give us a poor-law, -sir, and, trust me, you will hear no more about Rock and repeal; no, nor -of the _rint_, against which latter humbug the man of God set his face -outright during his honest and honourable lifetime; for, sir, though -he differed with Mr. Moore about Irish round towers, and a few French -roundelays, in _this_ they fully agreed. - -As I understand, sir, that you are Publisher in ordinary to his Majesty, -I intend from time to time conveying through you to the ear of royalty -some _desiderata curiosa Hyberniæ_ from the pen of the deceased; matters -which remain _penès me, in scriniis_, to use the style of your great -namesake. For the present, I merely send you a few classic scraps -collected by Dr. Prout in some convent abroad; and, wishing every -success to your Miscellany, am your humble servant, - R. O'D. - - - - - SCRAP, No. 1. _Water-grass-hill._ - -There flourishes, I hear, in London, a Mr. HUDSON, whose reputation -as a comic lyrist, it would seem, has firmly taken root in the great -metropolis. Many are the laughter-compelling productions of his merry -genius; but "_Barney Brallaghan's Courtship_" may be termed his -_opus magnum_. It has been my lot to pick a few dry leaves from the -laurel-wreath of Mr. Moore, who could well afford the loss: I know not -whether I can meddle rightly after a similar fashion with _Hudson's_ -bay. Yet is there a strange coincidence of thought and expression, -and even metre, between the following remnant of antiquity, and his -never-sufficiently-to-be-encored song. - -The original may be seen at Bobbio in the Apennines,--a Benedictine -settlement, well known as the earliest asylum opened to learning after -the fall of the Roman Empire. The Irish monk Colombanus had the merit -of founding it, and it long remained tenanted by natives of Ireland. -Among them it has been ascertained that DANTE lived for some time, and -composed Latin verses; but I cannot recognise any trace of _his_ stern -phraseology in the ballad. It appears rather the production of some -rustic of the Augustan age; perhaps one of Horace's ploughmen. It is -addressed to a certain Julia Callapygé, ([Greek: Kallipygê],) a name -which (for shortness I suppose) the rural poet contracts into Julia -"CALLAGÉ." I have diligently compared it with the vulgate version, as -sung by Fitzwilliam at the Freemasons' Tavern; and little doubt can -remain of its identity and authenticity. - P. P. - - - - - THE SABINE FARMER'S SERENADE; - BEING A NEWLY RECOVERED FRAGMENT OF A LATIN OPERA. - - I. 1. - Erat turbida nox 'Twas on a windy night, - Horâ secundâ mané At two o'clock in the morning, - Quando proruit vox An Irish lad so tight, - Carmen in hoc inané; All wind and weather scorning, - Viri misera mens At Judy Callaghan's door, - Meditabatur hymen, Sitting upon the palings, - Hinc puellæ flens His love-tale he did pour, - Stabat obsidens limen; And this was part of his wailings:-- - - _Semel tantum dic_ _Only say_ - _Eris nostra_ LALAGÉ; _You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan;_ - _Ne recuses sic,_ _Don't say nay,_ - _Dulcis Julia_ CALLAGÉ. _Charming Judy Callaghan._ - - II. 2. - Planctibus aurem fer, Oh! list to what I say, - Venere tu formosior; Charms you've got like Venus; - Dic, hos muros per, Own your love you may, - Tuo favore potior! There's but the wall between us. - Voce beatum fac; You lie fast asleep, - En, dum dormis, vigilo, Snug in bed and snoring; - Nocte obambulans hâc Round the house I creep, - Domum planctu stridulo. Your hard heart imploring. - - _Semel tantum dic_ _Only say_ - _Eris nostra_ LALAGÉ; _You'll have Mr. Brallaghan;_ - _Ne recuses sic,_ _Don't say nay,_ - _Dulcis Julia_ CALLAGÉ. _Charming Judy Callaghan._ - - III. 3. - Est mihi prægnans sus, I've got a pig and a sow, - Et porcellis stabulum; I've got a sty to sleep 'em; - Villula, grex, et rus[8] A calf and a brindled cow, - Ad vaccarum pabulum; And a cabin too, to keep 'em; - Feriis cerneres me Sunday hat and coat, - Splendido vestimento, An old grey mare to ride on; - Tunc, heus! quàm benè te Saddle and bridle to boot, - Veherem in jumento![9] Which you may ride astride on. - - _Semel tantum dic_ _Only say_ - _Eris nostra_ LALAGÉ; _You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan;_ - _Ne recuses sic,_ _Don't say nay,_ - _Dulcis Julia_ CALLAGÉ. _Charming Judy Callaghan._ - - IV. 4. - Vis poma terræ? sum I've got an acre of ground, - Uno dives jugere; I've got it set with praties; - Vis lac et mella,[10] cùm I've got of 'baccy a pound, - Bacchi succo,[11] sugere? I've got some tea for the ladies; - Vis aquæ-vitæ vim?[12] I've got the ring to wed, - Plumoso somnum sacculo?[13] Some whisky to make us gaily; - Vis ut paratus sim I've got a feather-bed - Vel annulo vel baculo?[14] And a handsome new shilelagh. - - _Semel tantum dic_ _Only say_ - _Eris nostra_ LALAGÉ; _You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan;_ - _Ne recuses sic,_ _Don't say nay,_ - _Dulcis Julia_ CALLAGÉ. _Charming Judy Callaghan._ - - V. 5. - Litteris operam das; You've got a charming eye, - Lucido fulges oculo; You've got some spelling and reading; - Dotes insuper quas You've got, and so have I, - Nummi sunt in loculo. A taste for genteel breeding; - Novi quad apta sis[15] You're rich, and fair, and young, - Ad procreandam sobolem! As everybody's knowing; - Possides (nesciat quis?) You've got a decent tongue - Linguam satis mobilem.[16] Whene'er 'tis set a-going. - - _Semel tantum dic_ _Only say_ - _Eris nostra_ LALAGÉ; _You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan;_ - _Ne recuses sic,_ _Don't say nay,_ - _Dulcis Julia_ CALLAGÉ. _Charming Judy Callaghan._ - - VI. 6. - Conjux utinam tu For a wife till death - Fieres, lepidum cor, mî! I am willing to take ye; - Halitum perdimus, heu, But, och! I waste my breath, - Te sopor urget. Dormi! The devil himself can't wake ye. - Ingruit imber trux-- 'Tis just beginning to rain, - Jam sub tecto pellitur So I'll get under cover; - Is quem crastina lux[17] Tomorrow I'll come again, - Referet hùc fidelitèr. And be your constant lover. - - _Semel tantum dic_ _Only say_ - _Eris nostra_ LALAGÉ; _You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan;_ - _Ne recuses sic,_ _Don't say nay,_ - _Dulcis Julia_ CALLAGÉ. _Charming Judy Callaghan._ - - - NOTULÆ. - -[8] NOTUL. 1. - -1º in _voce rus_. Nonne potiùs legendum _jus_, scilicet, _ad vaccarum -pabulum_? De hoc _jure_ apud Nabinos agricolas consule _Scriptores de re -rustied_ passim. Ita _Beatleius_. - -Jus imo antiquissimum, at displicet vox æquivoca; jus etenim a _mess of -pottage_ aliquande audit, ex. gr. - -Omne suum fratri Jacob _jus_ vendidit Esau, - -Et Jacob fratri jus dedit omne suum. Itaque, pace Bentleii, stet lectio -prior.--_Prout._ - -[9] NOTUL. 2. - -_Veherem in jumento._ Curriculo-ne? an ponè sedentem in equi dorso? -dorsaliter planè. Quid enim dicit Horatius de uxore sic vectà? Nonne -"_Post equitem sedet atra cura_"?--_Parson._ - -[10] NOTUL. 3. - -_Lac et mella._ Metaphoricè pro _tea_: muliebris est compotatio Græcis -non ignota, teste Anacreonte,-- - -[Greek: ThEÊN, thian thiainên,] [Greek: Thilô ligein etairai, k. t. l.] -_Brougham._ - -[11] NOTUL. 4. - -_Bacchi succo._ Duplex apud poetas antiquiores habebatur hujusce nominis -numen. Vineam regebat prius: posterius cuidam herbæ exoticæ pracerat quæ -_tobacco_ audit. Succus utrique optimus.--_Coleridge._ - -[12] NOTUL. 5. - -_Aquæ-vitæ vim_, Anglo-Hybernicè, "_a power of whisky_," [Greek: -ischys], scilicet, vox pergracca. _Parr._ - -[13] NOTUL. 6. - -_Plumoso sacco._ Plumarum congeriea certè ad somnos invitandos satis -apta; at mihi per multos annos laneus iste saccus, Ang. _woolsack_, -fuit apprimè ad dormiendum idoneus. Lites etlam _de iand ut aiunt -caprind_, soporiferas per annos xxx, exercui. Quot et quam præclara -somnia!--_Eldon._ - -[14] NOTUL. 7. - -Investitura "_per annulum et baculum_" satis nota. Vide P. Marca de -Concord. Sacerdotii et Imperii: et Hildebrandi Pont. Max. bullarium. -_Prout._ Baculo certè dignissim. pontif.--_Maginn._ - -[15] NOTUL. 8. - -_Apta sis._ Quemodo noverit? Vide Proverb. Solomonis cap. xxx. v. 19. -Nisi forsan tales fuerint puellæ Sabinorum quales impudens iste balatro -Connelius mentitur esse nostrates. _Blomfield._ - -[16] NOTUL. 9. - -_Linguam mobilem._ Prius enumerat futuræ conjugis bona _immobilis_, -postea transit ad _mobilia_, Anglicè, _chattel property_. Præclares -orde sententiarum!--_Car. Wetherell._ - -[17] NOTUL. 10. - -Allusio ad distichon Maronianum, "Nocte pluit totâ, _redeunt spectacula -manè_." _Prout._ [Greek: k. t. l.] - - * * * * * - - * * Our Water-grass-hill correspondent will find scattered throughout - * our pages the other fragments of the defunct _Padre_ which he has - placed at our disposal. Every chip from so brilliant an old block may - be said to possess a lustre peculiarly its own; hence we have not - feared to disperse them up and down our miscellany. They are - "gems of the purest whiskey."--_Edit._ - - [Illustration: Mr. Tulrumble as Mayor of Mudfog] - - - - - PUBLIC LIFE OF MR. TULRUMBLE, - ONCE MAYOR OF MUDFOG. - -Mudfog is a pleasant town--a remarkably pleasant town--situated in -a charming hollow by the side of a river, from which river, Mudfog -derives an agreeable scent of pitch, tar, coals, and rope-yarn, a -roving population in oil-skin hats, a pretty steady influx of drunken -bargemen, and a great many other maritime advantages. There is a good -deal of water about Mudfog, and yet it is not exactly the sort of town -for a watering-place, either. Water is a perverse sort of element at -the best of times, and in Mudfog it is particularly so. In winter, -it comes oozing down the streets and tumbling over the fields,--nay, -rushes into the very cellars and kitchens of the houses, with a lavish -prodigality that might well be dispensed with; but in the hot summer -weather it _will_ dry up, and turn green: and, although green is a very -good colour in its way, especially in grass, still it certainly is not -becoming to water; and it cannot be denied that the beauty of Mudfog is -rather impaired, even by this trifling circumstance. Mudfog is a healthy -place--very healthy;--damp, perhaps, but none the worse for that. It's -quite a mistake to suppose that damp is unwholesome: plants thrive best -in damp situations, and why shouldn't men? The inhabitants of Mudfog -are unanimous in asserting that there exists not a finer race of people -on the face of the earth; here we have an indisputable and veracious -contradiction of the vulgar error at once. So, admitting Mudfog to be -damp, we distinctly state that it is salubrious. - -The town of Mudfog is extremely picturesque. Limehouse and Ratcliffe -Highway are both something like it, but they give you a very faint idea -of Mudfog. There are a great many more public-houses in Mudfog,--more -than in Ratcliffe Highway and Limehouse put together. The public -buildings, too, are very imposing. We consider the Town-hall one of the -finest specimens of shed architecture, extant: it is a combination of -the pig-sty and tea-garden-box, orders; and the simplicity of its design -is of surpassing beauty. The idea of placing a large window on one side -of the door, and a small one on the other, is particularly happy. There -is a fine bold Doric beauty, too, about the padlock and scraper, which -is strictly in keeping with the general effect. - -In this room do the mayor and corporation of Mudfog assemble together -in solemn council for the public weal. Seated on the massive wooden -benches, which, with the table in the centre, form the only furniture of -the whitewashed apartment, the sage men of Mudfog spend hour after hour -in grave deliberation. Here they settle at what hour of the night the -public-houses shall be closed, at what hour of the morning they shall -be permitted to open, how soon it shall be lawful for people to eat -their dinner on church-days, and other great political questions; and -sometimes, long after silence has fallen on the town, and the distant -lights from the shops and houses have ceased to twinkle, like far-off -stars, to the sight of the boatmen on the river, the illumination in -the two unequal-sized windows of the town-hall, warns the inhabitants -of Mudfog that its little body of legislators, like a larger and -better-known body of the same genus, a great deal more noisy, and not a -whit more profound, are patriotically dozing away in company, far into -the night, for their country's good. - -Among this knot of sage and learned men, no one was so eminently -distinguished, during many years, for the quiet modesty of his -appearance and demeanour, as Nicholas Tulrumble, the well-known -coal-dealer. However exciting the subject of discussion, however -animated the tone of the debate, or however warm the personalities -exchanged, (and even in Mudfog we get personal sometimes,) Nicholas -Tulrumble was always the same. To say truth, Nicholas, being an -industrious man, and always up betimes, was apt to fall asleep when a -debate began, and to remain asleep till it was over, when he would wake -up very much refreshed, and give his vote with the greatest complacency. -The fact was, that Nicholas Tulrumble, knowing that everybody there, had -made up his mind beforehand, considered the talking as just a long hot -botheration about nothing at all; and to the present hour it remains a -question, whether, on this point at all events, Nicholas Tulrumble was -not pretty near right. - -Time, which strews a man's head with silver, sometimes fills his pockets -with gold. As he gradually performed one good office for Nicholas -Tulrumble, he was obliging enough, not to omit the other. Nicholas began -life in a wooden tenement of four feet square, with a capital of two and -ninepence, and a stock in trade of three bushels and a-half of coals, -exclusive of the large lump which hung, by way of sign-board, outside. -Then he enlarged the shed, and kept a truck; then he left the shed, and -the truck too, and started a donkey and a Mrs. Tulrumble; then he moved -again and set up a cart; the cart was soon afterwards exchanged for a -waggon; and so he went on, like his great predecessor Whittington--only -without a cat for a partner--increasing in wealth and fame, until at -last he gave up business altogether, and retired with Mrs. Tulrumble and -family to Mudfog Hall, which he had himself erected, on something which -he endeavoured to delude himself into the belief was a hill, about a -quarter of a mile distant from the town of Mudfog. - -About this time, it began to be murmured in Mudfog that Nicholas -Tulrumble was growing vain and haughty; that prosperity and success -had corrupted the simplicity of his manners, and tainted the natural -goodness of his heart; in short, that he was setting up for a public -character, and a great gentleman, and affected to look down upon his -old companions with compassion and contempt. Whether these reports were -at the time well-founded, or not, certain it is that Mrs. Tulrumble -very shortly afterwards started a four-wheel chaise, driven by a tall -postilion in a yellow cap,--that Mr. Tulrumble junior took to smoking -cigars, and calling the footman a "feller,"--and that Mr. Tulrumble from -that time forth, was no more seen in his old seat in the chimney-corner -of the Lighterman's Arms at night. This looked bad; but, more than -this, it began to be observed that Mr. Nicholas Tulrumble attended the -corporation meetings more frequently than heretofore; that he no longer -went to sleep as he had done for so many years, but propped his eyelids -open with his two fore-fingers; that he read the newspapers by himself -at home; and that he was in the habit of indulging abroad in distant -and mysterious allusions to "masses of people," and "the property of -the country," and "productive power," and "the monied interest:" all -of which denoted and proved that Nicholas Tulrumble was either mad, or -worse; and it puzzled the good people of Mudfog amazingly. - -At length, about the middle of the month of October, Mr. Tulrumble and -family went up to London; the middle of October being, as Mrs. Tulrumble -informed her acquaintance in Mudfog, the very height of the fashionable -season. - -Somehow or other, just about this time, despite the health-preserving -air of Mudfog, the Mayor died. It was a most extraordinary circumstance; -he had lived in Mudfog for eighty-five years. The corporation didn't -understand it at all; indeed it was with great difficulty that one -old gentleman, who was a great stickler for forms, was dissuaded from -proposing a vote of censure on such unaccountable conduct. Strange as -it was, however, die he did, without taking the slightest notice of -the corporation; and the corporation were imperatively called upon to -elect his successor. So, they met for the purpose; and being very full -of Nicholas Tulrumble just then, and Nicholas Tulrumble being a very -important man, they elected him, and wrote off to London by the very -next post to acquaint Nicholas Tulrumble with his new elevation. - -Now, it being November time, and Mr. Nicholas Tulrumble being in the -capital, it fell out that he was present at the Lord Mayor's show and -dinner, at sight of the glory and splendour whereof, he, Mr. Tulrumble, -was greatly mortified, inasmuch as the reflection would force itself -on his mind, that, had he been born in London instead of in Mudfog, he -might have been a Lord Mayor too, and have patronised the judges, and -been affable to the Lord Chancellor, and friendly with the Premier, -and coldly condescending to the Secretary to the Treasury, and have -dined with a flag behind his back, and done a great many other acts -and deeds which unto Lord Mayors of London peculiarly appertain. The -more he thought of the Lord Mayor, the more enviable a personage he -seemed. To be a King was all very well; but what was the King to the -Lord Mayor? When the King made a speech, everybody knew it was somebody -else's writing; whereas here was the Lord Mayor talking away for half -an hour--all out of his own head--amidst the enthusiastic applause of -the whole company, while it was notorious that the King might talk to -his parliament till he was black in the face without getting so much -as a single cheer. As all these reflections passed through the mind of -Mr. Nicholas Tulrumble, the Lord Mayor of London appeared to him the -greatest sovereign on the face of the earth, beating the Emperor of -Russia all to nothing, and leaving the Great Mogul immeasurably behind. - -Mr. Nicholas Tulrumble was pondering over these things, and inwardly -cursing the fate which had pitched his coal-shed in Mudfog, when the -letter of the corporation was put into his hand. A crimson flush mantled -over his face as he read it, for visions of brightness were already -dancing before his imagination. - -"My dear," said Mr. Tulrumble to his wife, "they have elected me, Mayor -of Mudfog." - -"Lor-a-mussy!" said Mrs. Tulrumble: "why, what's become of old Sniggs?" - -"The late Mr. Sniggs, Mrs. Tulrumble," said Mr. Tulrumble sharply, for -he by no means approved of the notion of unceremoniously designating a -gentleman who had filled the high office of Mayor as "old Sniggs,"--"The -late Mr. Sniggs, Mrs. Tulrumble, is dead." - -The communication was very unexpected; but Mrs. Tulrumble only -ejaculated "Lor-a-mussy!" once again, as if a Mayor were a mere ordinary -Christian, at which Mr. Tulrumble frowned gloomily. - -"What a pity 'tan't in London, ain't it?" said Mrs. Tulrumble, after a -short pause; "what a pity 'tan't in London, where you might have had a -show." - -"I _might_ have a show in Mudfog, if I thought proper, I apprehend," -said Mr. Tulrumble mysteriously. - -"Lor! so you might, I declare," replied Mrs. Tulrumble. - -"And a good one, too," said Mr. Tulrumble. - -"Delightful!" exclaimed Mrs. Tulrumble. - -"One which would rather astonish the ignorant people down there," said -Mr. Tulrumble. - -"It would kill them with envy," said Mrs. Tulrumble. - -So it was agreed that his Majesty's lieges in Mudfog should be -astonished with splendour, and slaughtered with envy, and that such a -show should take place as had never been seen in that town, or in any -other town before,--no, not even in London itself. - -On the very next day after the receipt of the letter, down came the -tall postilion in a post-chaise,--not upon one of the horses, but -inside--actually inside the chaise,--and, driving up to the very door -of the town-hall, where the corporation were assembled, delivered a -letter, written by the Lord knows who, and signed by Nicholas Tulrumble, -in which Nicholas said, all through four sides of closely-written, -gilt-edged, hot-pressed, Bath post letter-paper, that he responded to -the call of his fellow-townsmen with feelings of heartfelt delight; -that he accepted the arduous office which their confidence had imposed -upon him; that they would never find him shrinking from the discharge -of his duty; that he would endeavour to execute his functions with -all that dignity which their magnitude and importance demanded; and -a great deal more to the same effect. But even this was not all. The -tall postilion produced from his right-hand top-boot, a damp copy of -that afternoon's number of the county paper; and there, in large type, -running the whole length of the very first column, was a long address -from Nicholas Tulrumble to the inhabitants of Mudfog, in which he said -that he cheerfully complied with their requisition, and, in short, as -if to prevent any mistake about the matter, told them over again what -a grand fellow he meant to be, in very much the same terms as those in -which he had already told them all about the matter in his letter. - -The corporation stared at one another very hard at all this, and then -looked as if for explanation to the tall postilion, but as the tall -postilion was intently contemplating the gold tassel on the top of his -yellow cap, and could have afforded no explanation whatever, even if -his thoughts had been entirely disengaged, they contented themselves -with coughing very dubiously, and looking very grave. The tall postilion -then delivered another letter, in which Nicholas Tulrumble informed the -corporation, that he intended repairing to the town-hall, in grand state -and gorgeous procession, on the Monday afternoon then next ensuing. At -this, the corporation looked still more solemn; but, as the epistle -wound up with a formal invitation to the whole body to dine with the -Mayor on that day, at Mudfog Hall, Mudfog Hill, Mudfog, they began to -see the fun of the thing directly, and sent back their compliments, and -they'd be sure to come. - -Now there happened to be in Mudfog, as somehow or other there does -happen to be, in almost every town in the British dominions, and perhaps -in foreign dominions too--we think it very likely, but, being no great -traveller, cannot distinctly say--there happened to be, in Mudfog a -merry-tempered, pleasant-faced, good-for-nothing sort of vagabond, -with an invincible dislike to manual labour, and an unconquerable -attachment to strong beer and spirits whom everybody knew, and nobody, -except his wife, took the trouble to quarrel with, who inherited from -his ancestors the appellation of Edward Twigger, and rejoiced in the -_sobriquet_ of Bottle-nosed Ned. He was drunk upon the average once -a day, and penitent upon an equally fair calculation once a month; -and when he was penitent, he was invariably in the very last stage of -maudlin intoxication. He was a ragged, roving, roaring kind of fellow, -with a burly form, a sharp wit, and a ready head, and could turn his -hand to anything when he chose to do it. He was by no means opposed to -hard labour on principle, for he would work away at a cricket-match by -the day together,--running, and catching, and batting, and bowling, and -revelling in toil which would exhaust a galley-slave. He would have been -invaluable to a fire-office; never was a man with such a natural taste -for pumping engines, running up ladders, and throwing furniture out of -two-pair-of-stairs' windows: nor was this the only element in which he -was at home; he was a humane society in himself, a portable drag, an -animated life-preserver, and had saved more people, in his time, from -drowning, than the Plymouth life-boat, or Captain Manby's apparatus. -With all these qualifications, notwithstanding his dissipation, -Bottle-nosed Ned was a general favourite; and the authorities of Mudfog, -remembering his numerous services to the population, allowed him in -return to get drunk in his own way, without the fear of stocks, fine, or -imprisonment. He had a general licence, and he showed his sense of the -compliment by making the most of it. - -We have been thus particular in describing the character and avocations -of Bottle-nosed Ned, because it enables us to introduce a fact politely, -without hauling it into the reader's presence with indecent haste by the -head and shoulders, and brings us very naturally to relate, that on the -very same evening on which Mr. Nicholas Tulrumble and family returned to -Mudfog, Mr. Tulrumble's new secretary, just imported from London, with -a pale face and light whiskers, thrust his head down to the very bottom -of his neckcloth-tie, in at the tap-room door of the Lighterman's Arms, -and enquiring whether one Ned Twigger was luxuriating within, announced -himself as the bearer of a message from Nicholas Tulrumble, Esquire, -requiring Mr. Twigger's immediate attendance at the hall, on private -and particular business. It being by no means Mr. Twigger's interest -to affront the Mayor, he rose from the fire-place with a slight sigh, -and followed the light-whiskered secretary through the dirt and wet of -Mudfog streets, up to Mudfog Hall, without further ado. - -Mr. Nicholas Tulrumble was seated in a small cavern with a skylight, -which he called his library, sketching out a plan of the procession on -a large sheet of paper; and into the cavern the secretary ushered Ned -Twigger. - -"Well, Twigger!" said Nicholas Tulrumble, condescendingly. - -There was a time when Twigger would have replied, "Well, Nick!" but that -was in the days of the truck, and a couple of years before the donkey; -so, he only bowed. - -"I want you to go into training, Twigger," said Mr. Tulrumble. - -"What for, sir?" enquired Ned, with a stare. - -"Hush, hush, Twigger!" said the Mayor. "Shut the door, Mr. Jennings. -Look here, Twigger." - -As the Mayor said this, he unlocked a high closet, and disclosed a -complete suit of brass armour, of gigantic dimensions. - -"I want you to wear this, next Monday, Twigger," said the Mayor. - -"Bless your heart and soul, sir!" replied Ned, "you might as well ask me -to wear a seventy-four pounder, or a cast-iron boiler." - -"Nonsense, Twigger! nonsense!" said the Mayor. - -"I couldn't stand under it, sir," said Twigger; "it would make mashed -potatoes of me, if I attempted it." - -"Pooh, pooh, Twigger!" returned the Mayor. "I tell you I have seen it -done with my own eyes, in London, and the man wasn't half such a man as -you are, either." - -"I should as soon have thought of a man's wearing the case of an -eight-day clock to save his linen," said Twigger, casting a look of -apprehension at the brass suit. - -"It's the easiest thing in the world," rejoined the Mayor. - -"It's nothing," said Mr. Jennings. - -"When you're used to it," added Ned. - -"You do it by degrees," said the Mayor. "You would begin with one piece -to-morrow, and two the next day, and so on, till you had got it all on. -Mr. Jennings, give Twigger a glass of rum. Just try the breast-plate, -Twigger. Stay; take another glass of rum first. Help me to lift it, Mr. -Jennings. Stand firm, Twigger! There!--it isn't half as heavy as it -looks, is it?" - -Twigger was a good strong, stout fellow; so, after a great deal of -staggering he managed to keep himself up, under the breast-plate, and -even contrived, with the aid of another glass of rum, to walk about in -it, and the gauntlets into the bargain. He made a trial of the helmet, -but was not equally successful, inasmuch he tipped over instantly,--an -accident which Mr. Tulrumble clearly demonstrated to be occasioned by -his not having a counteracting weight of brass on his legs. - -"Now, wear that with grace and propriety on Monday next," said -Tulrumble, "and I'll make your fortune." - -"I'll try what I can do, sir," said Twigger. - -"It must be kept a profound secret," said Tulrumble. - -"Of course, sir," replied Twigger. - -"And you must be sober," said Tulrumble; "perfectly sober." - -Mr. Twigger at once solemnly pledged himself to be as sober as a judge, -and Nicholas Tulrumble was satisfied, although, had we been Nicholas, we -should certainly have exacted some promise of a more specific nature; -inasmuch as, having attended the Mudfog assizes in the evening more than -once, we can solemnly testify to having seen judges with very strong -symptoms of dinner under their wigs. However, that's neither here nor -there. - -The next day, and the day following, and the day after that, Ned Twigger -was securely locked up in the small cavern with the skylight, hard at -work at the armour. With every additional piece he could manage to -stand upright in, he had on additional glass of rum; and at last, after -many partial suffocations, he contrived to get on the whole suit, and -to stagger up and down the room in it, like an intoxicated effigy from -Westminster Abbey. - -Never was man so delighted as Nicholas Tulrumble; never was woman so -charmed as Nicholas Tulrumble's wife. Here was a sight for the common -people of Mudfog! A live man in brass armour! Why, they would go wild -with wonder! - -The day--_the_ Monday--arrived. - -If the morning had been made to order, it couldn't have been better -adapted to the purpose. They never showed a better fog in London on -Lord Mayor's day, than enwrapped the town of Mudfog on that eventful -occasion. It had risen slowly and surely from the green and stagnant -water with the first light of morning, until it reached a little -above the lamp-post tops; and there it had stopped, with a sleepy, -sluggish obstinacy, which bade defiance to the sun, who had got up very -blood-shot about the eyes, as if he had been at a drinking-party over -night, and was doing his day's work with the worst possible grace. The -thick damp mist hung over the town like a huge gauze curtain. All was -dim and dismal. The church-steeples had bidden a temporary adieu to -the world below; and every object of lesser importance--houses, barns, -hedges, trees, and barges--had all taken the veil. - -The church-clock struck one. A cracked trumpet from the front-garden -of Mudfog Hall produced a feeble flourish, as if some asthmatic person -had coughed into it accidentally; the gate flew open, and out came a -gentleman, on a moist-sugar coloured charger, intended to represent -a herald, but bearing a much stronger resemblance to a court-card on -horseback. This was one of the Circus people, who always came down to -Mudfog at that time of the year, and who had been engaged by Nicholas -Tulrumble expressly for the occasion. There was the horse, whisking his -tail about, balancing himself on his hind-legs, and flourishing away -with his fore-feet, in a manner which would have gone to the hearts and -souls of any reasonable crowd. But a Mudfog crowd never was a reasonable -one, and in all probability never will be. Instead of scattering the -very fog with their shouts, as they ought most indubitably to have -done, and were fully intended to do, by Nicholas Tulrumble, they no -sooner recognised the herald, than they began to growl forth the most -unqualified disapprobation at the bare notion of his riding like any -other man. If he had come out on his head indeed, or jumping through a -hoop, or flying through a red-hot drum, or even standing on one leg with -his other foot in his mouth, they might have had something to say to -him; but for a professional gentleman to sit astride in the saddle, with -his feet in the stirrups, was rather too good a joke. So, the herald was -a decided failure, and the crowd hooted with great energy, as he pranced -ingloriously away. - -On the procession came. We were afraid to say how many supernumeraries -there were, in striped shirts and black velvet caps, to imitate the -London watermen, or how many base imitations of running-footmen, or how -many banners, which, owing to the heaviness of the atmosphere, could by -no means be prevailed on to display their inscriptions: still less do -we feel disposed to relate how the men who played the wind instruments, -looking up into the sky (we mean the fog) with musical fervour, -walked through pools of water and hillocks of mud, till they covered -the powdered heads of the running-footmen aforesaid with splashes, -that looked curious, but not ornamental; or how the barrel-organ -performer put on the wrong stop, and played one tune while the band -played another; or how the horses, being used to the arena, and not -to the streets, would stand still and dance, instead of going on and -prancing;--all of which are matters which might be dilated upon to great -advantage, but which we have not the least intention of dilating upon, -notwithstanding. - -Oh! it was a grand and beautiful sight to behold the corporation -in glass coaches, provided at the sole cost and charge of Nicholas -Tulrumble, coming rolling along, like a funeral out of mourning, and -to watch the attempts the corporation made to look great and solemn, -when Nicholas Tulrumble himself, in the four-wheel chaise, with the -tall postilion, rolled out after them, with Mr. Jennings on one side -to look like the chaplain, and a supernumerary on the other, with an -old life-guardsman's sabre, to imitate the sword-bearer; and to see the -tears rolling down the faces of the mob as they screamed with merriment. -This was beautiful! and so was the appearance of Mrs. Tulrumble and son, -as they bowed with grave dignity out of their coach-window to all the -dirty faces that were laughing around them: but it is not even with this -that we have to do, but with the sudden stopping of the procession at -another blast of the trumpet, whereat, and whereupon, a profound silence -ensued, and all eyes were turned towards Mudfog Hull, in the confident -anticipation of some new wonder. - -"They won't laugh now, Mr. Jennings," said Nicholas Tulrumble. - -"I think not, sir," said Mr. Jennings. - -"See how eager they look," said Nicholas Tulrumble. "Aha! the laugh will -be on our side now; eh, Mr. Jennings?" - -"No doubt of that, sir," replied Mr. Jennings; and Nicholas Tulrumble, -in a state of pleasurable excitement, stood up in the four-wheel chaise, -and telegraphed gratification to the Mayoress behind. - -While all this was going forward, Ned Twigger had descended into the -kitchen of Mudfog Hall for the purpose of indulging the servants with -a private view of the curiosity that was to burst upon the town; and, -somehow or other, the footman was so companionable, and the housemaid -so kind, and the cook so friendly, that he could not resist the offer -of the first-mentioned to sit down and take something--just to drink -success to master in. - -So, down Ned Trigger sat himself in his brass livery on the top of -the kitchen-table; and in a mug of something strong, paid for by the -unconscious Nicholas Tulrumble, and provided by the companionable -footman, drank success to the Mayor and his procession; and, as Ned laid -by his helmet to imbibe the something strong, the companionable footman -put it on his own head, to the immeasurable and unrecordable delight of -the cook and housemaid. The companionable footman was very facetious -to Ned, and Ned was very gallant to the cook and housemaid by turns. -They were all very cosy and comfortable; and the something strong went -briskly round. - -At last Ned Twigger was loudly called for, by the procession people: -and, having had his helmet fixed on, in a very complicated manner, by -the companionable footman, and the kind housemaid, and the friendly -cook, he walked gravely forth, and appeared before the multitude. - -The crowd roared--it was not with wonder, it was not with surprise; it -was most decidedly and unquestionably with laughter. - -"What!" said Mr. Tulrumble, starting up in the four-wheel chaise. -"Laughing? If they laugh at a man in real brass armour, they'd laugh -when their own fathers were dying. Why doesn't he go into his place, Mr. -Jennings? What's he rolling down towards us for?--he has no business -here!" - -"I am afraid, sir----" faltered Mr. Jennings. - -"Afraid of what, sir?" said Nicholas Tulrumble, looking up into the -secretary's face. - -"I am afraid he's drunk, sir;" replied Mr. Jennings. - -Nicholas Tulrumble took one look at the extraordinary figure that was -bearing down upon them; and then, clasping his secretary by the arm, -uttered an audible groan in anguish of spirit. - -It is a melancholy fact that Mr. Twigger having full licence to demand -a single glass of rum on the putting on of every piece of the armour, -got, by some means or other, rather out in his calculation in the -hurry and confusion of preparation, and drank about four glasses to a -piece instead of one, not to mention the something strong which went -on the top of it. Whether the brass armour checked the natural flow -of perspiration, and thus prevented the spirit from evaporating, we -are not scientific enough to know; but, whatever the cause was, Mr. -Twigger no sooner found himself outside the gate of Mudfog Hall, than -he also found himself in a very considerable state of intoxication; -and hence his extraordinary style of progressing. This was bad enough, -but, as if fate and fortune had conspired against Nicholas Tulrumble, -Mr. Twigger, not having been penitent for a good calendar month, took -it into his head to be most especially and particularly sentimental, -just when his repentance could have been most conveniently dispensed -with. Immense tears were rolling down his cheeks, and he was vainly -endeavouring to conceal his grief by applying to his eyes a blue -cotton pocket-handkerchief with white spots,--an article not strictly -in keeping with a suit of armour some three hundred years old, or -thereabouts. - -"Twigger, you villain!" said Nicholas Tulrumble, quite forgetting his -dignity, "go back!" - -"Never," said Ned. "I'm a miserable wretch. I'll never leave you." - -The by-standers of course received this declaration with acclamations of -"That's right, Ned; don't!" - -"I don't intend it," said Ned, with all the obstinacy of a very tipsy -man. "I'm very unhappy. I'm the wretched father of an unfortunate -family; but I am very faithful, sir. I'll never leave you." Having -reiterated this obliging promise, Ned proceeded in broken words to -harangue the crowd upon the number of years he had lived in Mudfog, the -excessive respectability of his character, and other topics of the like -nature. - -"Here! will anybody lead him away?" said Nicholas: "if they'll call on -me afterwards, I'll reward them well." - -Two or three men stepped forward, with the view of bearing Ned off, when -the secretary interposed. - -"Take care! take care!" said Mr. Jennings. "I beg your pardon, sir; but -they'd better not go too near him, because, if he falls over, he'll -certainly crush somebody." - -At this hint the crowd retired on all sides to a very respectful -distance, and left Ned, like the Duke of Devonshire, in a little circle -of his own. - -"But, Mr. Jennings," said Nicholas Tulrumble, "he'll be suffocated." - -"I'm very sorry for it, sir," replied Mr. Jennings; "but nobody can get -that armour off, without his own assistance. I'm quite certain of it, -from the way he put it on." - -Here Ned wept dolefully, and shook his helmeted head, in a manner that -might have touched a heart of stone; but the crowd had not hearts of -stone, and they laughed heartily. - -"Dear me, Mr. Jennings," said Nicholas, turning pale at the possibility -of Ned's being smothered in his antique costume--"Dear me, Mr. Jennings, -can nothing be done with him?" - -"Nothing at all," replied Ned, "nothing at all. Gentlemen, I'm an -unhappy wretch. I'm a body, gentlemen, in a brass coffin." At this -poetical idea of his own conjuring up, Ned cried so much that the people -began to get sympathetic, and to ask what Nicholas Tulrumble meant by -putting a man into such a machine as that; and one individual in a hairy -waistcoat like the top of a trunk, who had previously expressed his -opinion that if Ned hadn't been a poor man, Nicholas wouldn't have dared -to do it, hinted at the propriety of breaking the four-wheel chaise, -or Nicholas's head, or both, which last compound proposition the crowd -seemed to consider a very good notion. - -It was not acted upon, however, for it had hardly been broached, when -Ned Twigger's wife made her appearance abruptly in the little circle -before noticed, and Ned no sooner caught a glimpse of her face and form, -than from the mere force of habit he set off towards his home just as -fast as his legs would carry him; and that was not very quick in the -present instance either, for, however ready they might have been to -carry _him_, they couldn't get on very well under the brass armour. -So, Mrs. Twigger had plenty of time to denounce Nicholas Tulrumble to -his face: to express her opinion that he was a decided monster; and to -intimate that, if her ill-used husband sustained any personal damage -from the brass armour, she would have the law of Nicholas Tulrumble -for manslaughter. When she had said all this with due vehemence, she -posted after Ned, who was dragging himself along as best he could, and -deploring his unhappiness in most dismal tones. - -What a wailing and screaming Ned's children raised when he got home at -last! Mrs. Twigger tried to undo the armour, first in one place, and -then in another, but she couldn't manage it; so she tumbled Ned into -bed, helmet, armour, gauntlets, and all. Such a creaking as the bedstead -made, under Ned's weight in his new suit! It didn't break down though; -and there Ned lay, like the anonymous vessel in the Bay of Biscay, till -next day, drinking barley-water, and looking miserable: and every time -he groaned, his good lady said it served him right, which was all the -consolation Ned Twigger got. - -Nicholas Tulrumble and the gorgeous procession went on together to -the town-hall, amid the hisses and groans of all the spectators, who -had suddenly taken it into their heads to consider poor Ned a martyr. -Nicholas was formally installed in his new office, in acknowledgment -of which ceremony he delivered himself of a speech, composed by the -secretary, which was very long and no doubt very good, only the noise -of the people outside prevented anybody from hearing it, but Nicholas -Tulrumble himself. After which, the procession got back to Mudfog Hall -any how it could; and Nicholas and the corporation sat down to dinner. - -But the dinner was flat, and Nicholas was disappointed. They were such -dull sleepy old fellows, that corporation. Nicholas made quite as long -speeches as the Lord Mayor of London had done, nay, he said the very -same things that the Lord Mayor of London had said, and the deuce a -cheer the corporation gave him. There was only one man in the party who -was thoroughly awake; and he was insolent, and called him Nick. Nick! -What would be the consequence, thought Nicholas, of anybody presuming to -call the Lord Mayor of London "Nick!" He should like to know what the -sword-bearer would say to that; or the recorder, or the toast-master, or -any other of the great officers of the city. They'd nick him. - -But these were not the worst of Nicholas Tulrumble's doings; If they -had been, he might have remained a Mayor to this day, and have talked -till he lost his voice. He contracted a relish for statistics, and got -philosophical; and the statistics and the philosophy together, led him -into an act which increased his unpopularity and hastened his downfall. - -At the very end of the Mudfog High-street, and abutting on the -river-side, stands the Jolly Boatmen, an old-fashioned, low-roofed, -bay-windowed house, with a bar, kitchen, and tap-room all in one, and a -large fire-place with a kettle to correspond, round which the working -men have congregated time out of mind on a winter's night, refreshed by -draughts of good strong beer, and cheered by the sounds of a fiddle and -tambourine: the Jolly Boatmen having been duly licensed by the Mayor -and corporation, to scrape the fiddle and thumb the tambourine from -time, whereof the memory of the oldest inhabitants goeth not to the -contrary. Now Nicholas Tulrumble had been reading pamphlets on crime, -and parliamentary reports,--or had made the secretary read them to him, -which is the same thing in effect,--and he at once perceived that this -fiddle and tambourine must have done more to demoralise Mudfog, than any -other operating causes that ingenuity could imagine. So he read up for -the subject, and determined to come out on the corporation with a burst, -the very next time the licence was applied for. - -The licensing day came, and the red-faced landlord of the Jolly Boatmen, -walked into the town-hall, looking as jolly as need be, having actually -put on an extra fiddle for that night, to commemorate the anniversary -of the Jolly Boatmen's music licence. It was applied for in due form, -and was just about to be granted as a matter of course, when up rose -Nicholas Tulrumble, and drowned the astonished corporation in a torrent -of eloquence. He descanted in glowing terms upon the increasing -depravity of his native town of Mudfog, and the excesses committed by -its population. Then, he related how shocked he had been, to see barrels -of beer sliding down into the cellar of the Jolly Boatmen week after -week; and how he had sat at a window opposite the Jolly Boatmen for two -days together, to count the people who went in for beer between the -hours of twelve and one o'clock alone--which, by-the-bye, was the time -at which the great majority of the Mudfog people dined. Then, he went on -to state, how the number of people who came out with beer-jugs, averaged -twenty-one in five minutes, which, being multiplied by twelve, gave two -hundred and fifty-two people with beer-jugs in an hour, and multiplied -again by fifteen (the number of hours during which the house was open -daily) yielded three thousand seven hundred and eighty people with -beer-jugs per day, or twenty-six thousand four hundred and sixty people -with beer-jugs, per week. Then he proceeded to show that a tambourine -and moral degradation were synonymous terms, and a fiddle and vicious -propensities wholly inseparable. All these arguments he strengthened -and demonstrated by frequent references to a large book with a blue -cover, and sundry quotations from the Middlesex magistrates; and in the -end, the corporation, who were posed with the figures, and sleepy with -the speech, and sadly in want of dinner into the bargain, yielded the -palm to Nicholas Tulrumble, and refused the music licence to the Jolly -Boatmen. - -But although Nicholas triumphed, his triumph was short. He carried on -the war against beer-jugs and fiddles, forgetting the time when he -was glad to drink out of the one, and to dance to the other, till the -people hated, and his old friends shunned him. He grew tired of the -lonely magnificence of Mudfog Hall, and his heart yearned towards the -Lighterman's Arms. He wished he had never set up as a public man, and -sighed for the good old times of the coal-shop, and the chimney-corner. - -At length old Nicholas, being thoroughly miserable, took heart of grace, -paid the secretary a quarter's wages in advance, and packed him off to -London by the next coach. Having taken this step, he put his hat on his -head, and his pride in his pocket, and walked down to the old room at -the Lighterman's Arms. There were only two of the old fellows there, and -they looked coldly on Nicholas as he proffered his hand. - -"Are you going to put down pipes, Mr. Tulrumble?" said one. - -"Or trace the progress of crime to 'baccer?" growled the other. - -"Neither," replied Nicholas Tulrumble, shaking hands with them both, -whether they would or not. "I've come down to say that I'm very sorry -for having made a fool of myself, and that I hope you'll give me up the -old chair, again." - -The old fellows opened their eyes, and three or four more old fellows -opened the door, to whom Nicholas, with tears in his eyes, thrust out -his hand too, and told the same story. They raised a shout of joy, that -made the bells in the ancient church-tower vibrate again, and wheeling -the old chair into the warm corner, thrust old Nicholas down into it, -and ordered in the very largest-sized bowl of hot punch, with an -unlimited number of pipes, directly. - -The next day, the Jolly Boatmen got the licence, and the next night, -old Nicholas and Ned Twigger's wife led off a dance to the music of -the fiddle and tambourine, the tone of which seemed mightily improved -by a little rest, for they never had played so merrily before. Ned -Twigger was in the very height of his glory, and he danced hornpipes, -and balanced chairs on his chin, and straws on his nose, till the whole -company, including the corporation, were in raptures of admiration at -the brilliancy of his acquirements. - -Mr. Tulrumble, junior, couldn't make up his mind to be anything but -magnificent, so he went up to London and drew bills on his father; and -when he had overdrawn, and got into debt, he grew penitent and came home -again. - -As to old Nicholas, he kept his word, and having had six weeks of public -life, never tried it any more. He went to sleep in the town-hall at the -very next meeting; and, in full proof of his sincerity, has requested us -to write this faithful narrative. We wish it could have the effect of -reminding the Tulrumbles of another sphere, that puffed-up conceit is -not dignity, and that snarling at the little pleasures they were once -glad to enjoy, because they would rather forget the times when they were -of lower station, renders them objects of contempt and ridicule. - -This is the first time we have published any of our gleanings from this -particular source. Perhaps, at some future period, we may venture to -open the chronicles of Mudfog. - BOZ. - - - - - THE HOT WELLS OF CLIFTON. - - SCRAP, No. II. _Water-grass-hill._ - -The "poems of Ossian," a celtic bard, and the "rhymes of Rowley," a -Bristol priest, burst on the public at one and the same period; when the -attention of literary men was for a time totally absorbed in discussing -the respective discoveries of Macpherson and of Chatterton. "The fashion -of this world passeth away;" and what once engaged so much notice is now -sadly neglected. Indeed, had not Bonaparte taken a fancy to the ravings -of the mad highlander, and had not Chatterton swallowed oxalic acid, -probably far more brief had been the space both would have occupied -in the memory of mankind. In the garret of Holborn, where the latter -expired, the following _morceau_ was picked up by an Irish housemaid -(a native of this parish), who, in writing home to a sweetheart, -converted it into an envelope for her letter. It thus came into -my possession. - P. PROUT. - - - - - TO THE HOT WELLS OF CLIFTON, - IN PRAISE OF RUM-PUNCH. - - A Triglot Ode, viz. - - 1º [Greek: Pindarou peri reumatos ôdê.] - 2º Horatii in fontem Bristolii carmen. - 3º A Relick (unpublished) of "the unfortunate Chatterton." - - PINDAR. HORACE. CHATTERTON. - [Greek: Pêgê Bristolias O fons Bristolii I ken your worth - Mallon en ualô Hoc magis in vitro "Hot wells" of Bristol, - Lampous' anthesi syn Dulci digne mero That bubble forth - Nektaros axiê Non sine floribus As clear as crystal;... - S' antlô Vas impleveris In parlour snug - Reumati pollô Undâ I'd wish no hotter - Misgôn Mel solvente To mix a jug - Kai melitos poly.] Caloribus. Of Rum and Water. - - - [Greek: b.] II. 2. - [Greek: Anêr kan tis eran Si quis vel venerem Doth Love, young chiel, - Bouletai ê machan Aut prælia cogitat, One's bosom ruffle? - Soi Bakchou patharon Is Bacchi calidos Would any feel - Soi diachrônnysei Inficiet tibi Ripe for a scuffle? - Phoinô Rubro sanguine The simplest plan - Th' aimati nama Rivos, Is just to take a - Prothymos te Fiet protinus Well stiffened can - Tach' essetai.] Impiger! Of old Jamaica. - - - [Greek: g.] III. 3. - [Greek: Se phlegm' aithaloen Te flagrante bibax Beneath the zone - Seiriou asteros Ore caniculâ Grog in a pail or - Armozei plôtori Sugit navita: tu Rum--best alone-- - Sy kryos êdyn en Frigus amabile Delights the sailor. - Nêsois Fessis vomere The can he swills - Antilesaisi Mauris Alone gives vigour - Poieis Præbes ac In the Antilles - K' aithiopôn phylô.] Homini nigro. To white or nigger. - - - [Greek: d.] IV. 4. - [Greek:Krênais en te kalais Fies nobilium Thy claims, O fount, - Esseai aglaê Tu quoque fontium Deserve attention: - S' en koilô kylaki Me dicente; cavum Henceforward count - Enthemenên eôs Dum calicem reples On classic mention. - Umnêsô, Urnamque Right pleasant stuff - Lalon ex ou Unde loquaces Thine to the lip is ... - Son de reuma kathalletai.] Lymphæ We've had enough - Desiliunt tuæ. Of Aganippe's. - - - - - "WHO MILKED MY COW?" OR, THE MARINE GHOST. - BY THE AUTHOR OF "RATTLIN THE REEFER." - -Captain the Honourable Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban, of that beautiful -ship his Majesty's frigate Nænia, loved many things. He loved his ship -truly, and with a perdurable affection; yet he loved something still -more, his very aristocratic self. He had also vowed to love and cherish -another person; but what gallant spirit would yield love, even if it -were as plenty as blackberries, upon compulsion? The less you give away, -the more must remain to be employed in the service of the possessor. -Captain Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban had a great deal of unoccupied love -at his disposal. Considering duly these premises, there can be nothing -surprising in the fact if he had a surplus affection or two to dispose -of, and that he most ardently loved new milk every morning for -breakfast. - -Now Captain the Honourable Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban--(how delightful -it is to give the whole title when it is either high-sounding or -euphonous!)--had large estates and wide pasture-lands populous with -lowing kine. But all these availed him not; for, though he was sovereign -lord and master _pro tempore_ over all as far as the eye could reach, -on the morning of the 6th of June 1826, he could not command so much of -the sky-blueish composition that is sold for milk in London, as could -be bought for one halfpenny in that sovereign city of many pumps. The -fields spread around the honourable captain were wide and green enough, -but, alas! they were not pastured with mammiferous animals. Neptune has -never been known to take cream to his chocolate and coffee. He would -scorn to be called a milk-and-water gentlemen. There is the sea-cow -certainly, but we never heard much respecting the quality of her butter. - -We are careful. We will not lay ourselves open to animadversion. We have -read books. We have seen things. Therefore we cannot suffer the little -triumph to the little critics who were just going to tell us that all -the cetaceous tribes suckle their young. We can tell these critics more -than they know themselves. Whale's milk _is_ good for the _genus homo_. -We know two brawny fellows, maintop-men, who, being cast overboard when -infants, were, like Romulus and Remus with their she-bear, suckled by -a sperm-whale; and, when their huge wet-nurse wished to wean them, she -cast them ashore on one of the Friendly Islands. We think that we hear -the incredulous exclaim, "Very like a whale!" Why, so it was. - -But to return to another matter of history. On the memorable morning -before indicated, the honourable captain, the first lieutenant, the -doctor, the marine officer, the officer and the midshipman of the -morning watch, had all assembled to breakfast in the cabin. They had -not forgotten their appetites, particularly the gentlemen of the -morning watch. They were barbarous and irate in their hunger, as their -eyes wandered over cold fowl and ham, hot rolls, grilled kidneys, and -devilled legs of turkey. - -"By all the stars in heaven," said the honourable commander, "no milk -again this morning! Give me, you rascally steward," continued the -captain, "a plain, straightforward, categorical answer. Why does this -infernal cow, for which I gave such a heap of dollars, give me no -milk?"--"Well, sir," said the trembling servitor; "if, sir, you must -have a plain answer, I really--believe--it is--because--I don't know." - -"A dry answer," said the doctor, who was in most senses a dry fellow. - -"You son of a shotten herring!" said the captain, "can you milk -her?"--"Yes, sir." - -"Then why, in the name of all that is good, don't you?"--"I do, sir, -but it won't come." - -"Then let us go," said the captain, quite resignedly, "let us go, -gentlemen, and see what ails this infernal cow; I can't eat my breakfast -without milk, and breakfast is the meal that I generally enjoy most." - -So he, leading the way, was followed by his company, who cast many a -longing, lingering look behind. - -Forward they went to where the cow was _stalled_ by capstan-bars, as -comfortably as a prebendary, between two of the guns on the main-deck. -She seemed in excellent condition; ate her nutritious food with much -appetite; and, from her appearance, the captain might have very -reasonably expected, not only an ample supply of milk and cream for -breakfast and tea, but also a sufficient quantity to afford him custards -for dinner. - -Well, there stood the seven officers of his Majesty's naval service -round the arid cow, looking very like seven wise men just put to sea in -a bowl. - -"Try again," said the captain to his servant. If the attempt had been -only fruitless, there had been no matter for wonder; it was milkless. - -"The fool can't milk," said the captain; then turning round to his -officers despondingly, he exclaimed, "gentlemen, can any of you?" - -Having all protested that they had left off, some thirty, some forty, -and some fifty years, according to their respective ages, and the marine -officer saying that he never had had any practice at all, having been -brought up by hand, the gallant and disappointed hero was obliged to -order the boatswain's mates to pass the word fore and aft, to send every -one to him who knew how to milk a cow. - -Seventeen Welshmen, sixty-five Irishmen, (all on board,) and four lads -from Somersetshire made their appearance, moistened their fingers, and -set to work, one after the other; yet there was no milk. - -"What do you think of this, doctor?" said the captain to him, taking him -aside.--"That the animal has been milked a few hours before." - -"Hah! If I was sure of that. And the cow could have been milked only by -some one who _could_ milk?"--"The inference seems indisputable." - -The captain turned upon the numerous aspirants for lacteal honours with -no friendly eye, exclaiming sorrowfully, "Too many to flog, too many to -flog. Let us return to our breakfast; though I shall not be able to eat -a morsel or drink a drop. Here, boatswain's-mate, pass the word round -the ship that I'll give five guineas reward to any one who will tell me -who milked the captain's cow." - -The gentleman then all retired to the cabin, and, with the exception -of the captain, incontinently fell upon the good things. Now, the -midshipman of that morning's watch was a certain Mr. Littlejohn, usually -abbreviated into Jack Small. When Jack Small had disposed of three hot -rolls, half a fowl, and a pound of ham, and was handing in his plate for -a well devilled turkey's thigh, his eye fell compassionately upon his -fasting captain, and his heart opening to the softer emotions as his -stomach filled with his host's delicacies, the latter's want of the milk -of the cow stirred up within him his own milk of human kindness. - -"I am very sorry that you have no appetite," said Jack Small, with his -mouth very full, and quite protectingly, to his skipper; "very sorry, -indeed, sir: and, as you cannot make your breakfast without any milk, -I think, sir, that the midshipmen's berth could lend you a bottle." - -"The devil they can, younker. Oh, oh! It's good and fresh, hey?" - -"Very good and fresh, sir," said the midshipman, ramming down the words -with a large wadding of hot roll. - -"We must borrow some of it, by all means," said the captain; "but let -the midshipmen's servant bring it here himself." - -The necessary orders having been issued, the bottle of milk and the boy -appeared. - -"Did you know," said Captain Fitzalban, turning to his first lieutenant, -"that the midshipmen's berth was provided with milk, and that too after -being at sea a month?"--"Indeed I did not; they are better provided than -we are, at least in this respect, in the ward-room." - -"Do you think,--do you think," said the captain, trembling with rage, -"that any of the young blackguards dare milk my cow?"--"It is not easy -to say what they dare not do." - -However, the cork was drawn, and the milk found not only to be very -fresh indeed, but most suspiciously new. In the latitude of the -Caribbean Islands liquids in general are sufficiently warm, so the -captain could not lay much stress upon that. - -"As fine milk as ever I tasted," said the captain. - -"Very good indeed, sir," said the midshipman, overflowing his cup and -saucer with the delicious liquid. - -"Where do the young gentlemen procure it?" resumed the captain, pouring -very carefully what remained after the exactions of John Small into the -cream-jug, and moving it close to his own plate.--"It stands us rather -dear, sir," said Mr. Littlejohn,--"a dollar a bottle. We buy it of Joe -Grummet, the captain of the waisters." - -The captain and first lieutenant looked at each other unutterable things. - -Joe Grummet was in the cabin in an instant, and the captain bending upon -him his sharp and angry glances. Joseph was a sly old file, a seaman to -the backbone; and let the breeze blow from what quarter of the compass -it would, he had always an eye to windward. Fifty years had a little -grizzled his strong black hair, and, though innovation had deprived -him of the massive tail that whilome hung behind, there were still -some fancy curls that corkscrewed themselves down his weather-stained -temples; and, when he stood before the captain, in one of these he -hitched the first bend of the immense fore-finger of his right hand. He -hobbled a little in his gait, owing to an unextracted musket-ball that -had lodged in his thigh; consequently he never went aloft; and had been, -for his merits and long services, appointed captain of the waist. - -The Honorable Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban said to the veteran mariner -quickly, and pointing at the same time to the empty bottle, "Grummet, -you have milked my cow."--"Unpossible, sir," said Grummet, bashing at a -bow; "downright unpossible, your honour." - -"Then, pray, whence comes the fresh milk you sell every morning to the -young gentlemen?"--"Please your honour, I took two or three dozen of -bottles to sea with me on a kind o' speculation." - -"Grummet, my man, I am afraid this will turn out a bad one for you. Go -and show your hands to the doctor, and he'll ask you a few questions." - -So Joseph Grummet went and expanded his flippers before the eyes of -the surgeon. They were nearly as large and as shapely as the fins of a -porpoise, and quite of the colour. They had been tanned and tarred till -their skin had become more durable than bootleather, and they were quite -rough enough to have rasped close-grained wood. - -"I don't think our friend could have milked your cow, Captain -Fitzalban," said the doctor; "at least, not with his hands: they are -rather calculated to draw blood than milk." - -Joseph rolled his eyes about and looked his innocence most pathetically. -He was not yet quite out of danger. - -Now there was every reason in the world why this cow should give the -captain at least a gallon of milk per diem--but one, and that he was -most anxious to discover. The cow was in the best condition; since she -had been embarked, the weather had been fine enough to have pleased -Europa herself; she had plenty of provender, both dry and fresh. There -were fragrant clover closely packed in bags, delicious oat-cakes--meal -and water, and fine junks of juicy plantain.--The cow throve, but gave -no milk! - -"So you brought a few dozen bottles of milk to sea with you as a -venture?" continued the man of medicine in his examination.--"I did, -sir." - -"And where did you procure them?"--"At English Harbour, sir." - -"May I ask of whom?"--"Madame Juliana, the fat free Negro woman." - -"Now, my man," said the doctor, looking a volume and a half of Galen, -and holding up a cautionary fore-finger--"now, my man, do not hope to -deceive _me_. How did you prevent the acetous fermentation from taking -place in these bottles of milk?" - -The question certainly was a puzzler. Joe routed with his fingers among -his hair for an answer. At length he fancied he perceived a glimmering -of the doctor's meaning; so he hummed and ha-ed, until, the doctor's -patience being exhausted, he repeated more peremptorily, "How did you -prevent acetous fermentation taking place in these bottles of milk?" - -"By paying ready money for them, sir," said the badgered seaman boldly. - -"An excellent preventative against fermentation certainly," said the -captain half smiling. "But you answer the doctor like a fool." - -"I was never accused of such a thing, please your honour, before, sir," -said tarrybrecks, with all his sheets and tacks abroad. - -"Very likely, my man, very likely," answered the captain, with a look -that would have been invaluable in a vinegar manufactory. "How did you -prevent this milk from turning sour?" - -"Ah, sir!" said Grummet, now wide awake to his danger: "if you please, -sir, I humbly axes your pardon, but that's my secret." - -"Then by all that's glorious I'll flog it out of you!" - -"I humbly hopes not, sir. I am sure your honour won't flog an old seaman -who has fought with Howe and Nelson, and who was wounded in the sarvice -before your honour was born; you won't flog him, sir, only because he -can't break his oath." - -"So you have sworn not to divulge it, hey?" - -"Ah, sir: if I might be so bold as to say so, your honour's a witch!" - -"Take care of yourself, Joseph Grummet; I do advise you to take care of -yourself. Folly is a great betrayer of secrets, Joseph. Cunning may milk -cows without discovery: however, I will never punish without proof. How -many bottles of this excellent milk have you yet left?"--"Eight or ten, -sir, more or less, according to sarcumstances." - -"Well! I will give you a dollar a-piece for all you have." - -At this proposition Joseph Grummet shuffled about, not at all at his -ease, now looking very sagacious, now very foolish, till, at last, he -brought down his features to express the most deprecating humility of -which their iron texture was capable, and he then whined forth, "I would -not insult you, sir, by treating you all as one as a midshipman. No, -your honour: I knows the respect that's due to you,--I couldn't think of -letting you, sir, have a bottle under three dollars--it wouldn't be at -all respectful like." - -"Grummet," said Captain Fitzalban, "you are not only a thorough seaman, -but a thorough knave. Now, have you the conscience to make me pay three -dollars a bottle for my own milk?"--"Ah, sir, you don't know how much -the secret has cost me." - -"Nor do you know how dearly it may cost you yet." - -Joseph Grommet then brought into the cabin his remaining stock in -trade, which, instead of eight or ten, was found to consist only of -two bottles. The captain, though with evident chagrin, paid for them -honourably; and whilst the milkman _pro temp._ was knotting up the six -dollars in the tie of the handkerchief about his neck, the skipper said -to him, "Now, my man, since we part such good friends, tell me your -candid opinion concerning this cow of mine?"--"Why, sir, I thinks as how -it's the good people as milks her." - -"The good people! who the devil are they?"--"The fairies, your honour." - -"And what do they do with it?"--"Very few can tell, your honour; but -those who gets it are always desarving folks." - -"Such as old wounded seamen, and captains of the waist especially. Well, -go along to your duty. Look out! _cats_ love milk." - -So Joseph Grummet went forth from the cabin shrugging up his shoulders, -with an ominous presentiment of scratches upon them. The captain, the -Honourable Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban, gave the marine officer orders -to place a sentry night and day over his cow, and then dismissed his -guests. - -The honourable commander was, for the rest of day, in a most -unconscionable ill humour. The ship's sails were beautifully trimmed, -the breeze was just what it ought to have been. The heavens above, and -the waters below, were striving to outsmile each other. What then made -the gallant captain so miserable? He was thinking only of the temerity -of the man who had dared to _milk his cow_. - -The first lieutenant touched his hat most respectfully to the Honourable -Captain Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban, and acquainted him that the sun -indicated it to be twelve o'clock. - -"Milk my cow!" said the captain abstractedly. - -"Had not that better be postponed till to-morrow morning, Captain -Fitzalban?" said the lieutenant, with a very little smile; "and in the -mean time may we strike the bell, and pipe to dinner?" - -The captain gazed upon the gallant officer sorrowfully, and, as he shook -his head, his looks said as plainly as looks could speak, and with the -deepest pathos, "They never milked _his_ cow." - -"Do what is necessary," at last he uttered; then, pulling his hat more -over his eyes, he continued to pace the quarter-deck. - -Now, though the Honourable Captain Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban was the -younger son of a nobleman, and enjoyed a very handsome patrimony, and -his temper had been thoroughly spoiled by that process that is too -often called education, yet his heart was sound, English, and noble. He -revolted from doing an unjust action; yet he smarted dreadfully under -the impression that he was cheated and laughed at to his very face. -He did not think that Joseph Grummet had milked his cow, but he felt -assured that the same milk-dealing Joseph knew who did; yet was he too -humane to introduce the Inquisition on board his ship by extracting the -truth by torture. - -The Honourable Captain Fitzroy Fitzalban slept late on the succeeding -morning. He had been called at daylight, _pro forma_, but had merely -turned from his left side to the right, muttering something about a cow. -It must be supposed that the slumbers of the morning indemnified him for -the horrors of the night, for breakfast was on the table, and the usual -guests assembled, when the captain emerged from the after-cabin. - -There was no occasion to ask the pale and trembling steward if the cow -had given any milk that morning. - -The breakfast remained untouched by the captain, and passed off in -active silence by his guests. Not wishing to excite more of the derision -of Jack than was absolutely necessary, the Honourable the Captain -Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban, when he found that the various officers whom -he had invited to breakfast had sufficiently "improved the occasion," -as the methodists say, turned to the first lieutenant, who was again -his guest, and asked him if nothing had transpired on the over-night to -warrant a suspicion as to the lacteal felony. - -The first luff looked very mysterious, and not wholly disposed to be -communicative upon the subject. He had been piously brought up, and was -not at all inclined to be sarcastic upon the score of visions or the -visited of ghosts; yet, at the same time, he did not wish to subject -himself to the ridicule of his captain, who had rationally enough -postponed his belief in apparitions until he had seen one. Under these -difficulties, he replied hesitatingly, that a ghost had been reported -as having "come on board before daylight in the morning, without leave." - -"A ghost, Mr. Mitchell, come on board, and I not called!" said the -indignant captain: "By G--, sir, I would have turned out a guard of -honour to have received him! I would have sooner had a visit from his -spirituality than from his Excellency the Spanish Ambassador.--The -service, sir, has come to a pretty pass, when a ghost can come on board, -and leave the ship too, I presume, without even so much as the boatswain -to pipe the side. So the ghost came, I suppose, and milked my cow?" - -The first lieutenant, in answer, spoke with all manner of humility. He -represented that he had been educated as a seaman and as an officer, and -not for a doctor of divinity; therefore he could not pretend to account -for these preternatural visitations. He could only state the fact, -and that not so well as the first lieutenant of marines. "He begged, -therefore, to refer to him." - -That officer was immediately sent for, and he made his appearance -accompanied by one of the serjeants, and then it was asserted that, -when the guard went round to relieve the sentries, they found the man -who had been stationed over the cow, lying on the deck senseless in a -fit, and his bayonet could nowhere be found. When by the means of one of -the assistant-surgeons, who had been immediately summoned, he had been -sufficiently recovered to articulate, all the explanation they could -get from him was, that he had seen a ghost; and the very mention of the -fact, so great was his terror, had almost caused a relapse. - -"Send the poltroon here immediately: I'll ghost him!" cried the enraged -captain. In answer to this he was informed, that the man lay seriously -ill in his hammock in the sick-bay, and that the doctor was at that very -moment with the patient. - -"I'll see him myself," said the captain. - -As the honourable captain, with his _cortège_ of officers, passed -along the decks on his way to the sick-bay, he thought--or his sense -of hearing most grievously deceived him--that more than once he heard -sneering and gibing voices exclaim, "Who milked my cow?" but the moment -he turned his head in the direction from whence the sounds proceeded, he -saw nothing but visages the most sanctimonious: indeed they, instead of -the unfortunate sentry, appeared to have seen the ghost. The captain's -amiability that morning might have been expressed by the algebraical -term--minus a cipher. - -When the skipper hauled alongside the sick man, he found that the -doctor, having bled him, was preparing to blister his head, the ship's -barber at the time being occupied in very sedulously shaving it. The -patient was fast putting himself upon an equality to contend with -his supernatural visitant, by making a ghost of himself. He was in a -high fever and delirious,--unpleasant things in the West Indies! All -the captain could get from him was, "The devil--flashes of fire--milk -cow--horrible teeth--devil's cow--ship haunted--nine yards of blue -flame--throw cow overboard--go to heaven--kicked the pail down--horns -tipped with red-hot iron," and other rhapsodies to the same effect. - -From the man the captain went to the cow; but she was looking -excessively sleek, and mild, and amiable, and eating her breakfast with -the relish of an outside mail-coach passenger. The captain shook his -head, and thought himself the most persecuted of beings. - -When this self-estimated injured character gained the quarter-deck, he -commenced ruminating on the propriety of flogging Joseph Grummet; for, -with the loss of his cow's milk, he had lost all due sense of human -kindness. But, as the Lords of the Admiralty had lately insisted upon -a report being forwarded to them of every punishment that took place, -the number of lashes, and the crime for which they were inflicted, -the Honourable the Captain Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban thought that a -report would look rather queer running thus: "Joseph Grummet, captain -of the waist, six dozen, because my cow gave no milk," or "because -private-marine Snickchops saw a ghost," or "for selling the midshipmen -sundry bottles of milk;" and this last imagination reminded him that -there was one of this highly-gifted class walking to leeward of him. -"Mr. Littlejohn!" said the captain with a voice that crawled over the -nerves like the screeching of an ill-filed saw. - -Small Jack touched his hat with more than usual respect to the -exasperated officer, and then, stepping to windward, humbly confronted -him. - -The captain was too angry for many words; so, looking fearfully into -the happy countenance of the reefer, and pointing his fore-finger down -perpendicularly, he laconically uttered, "Milk this morning?"--"Yes, -sir." - -"Good?" - -The well-breakfasted midshipman licked his lips, and smiled. - -"Grummet?"--"Yes, sir." - -"Tell the boatswain's mate to send him aft."--"Ay, ay, sir." - -And there stood the captain of the waist, with his hat in his hand, -opposite to the captain of the ship. There was some difference between -those two captains:--one verging upon old age, the other upon manhood. -The old man with but two articles of dress upon his person, a canvass -shirt and a canvass pair of trousers,--for in those latitudes shoes and -stockings are dispensed with by the foremast men, excepting on Sundays -and when mustering at divisions; the other gay, and almost gorgeous, -in white jeans, broad-cloth, and gold. There they stood, the one the -personification of meekness, the other of haughty anger. However firm -might have been the captain's intentions to convict the man before him -by an intricate cross-examination, his warmth of temper defeated them at -once, for the old seaman looked more than usually innocent and sheepish. -This almost stolid equanimity was sadly provoking. - -"You insolent scoundrel!--who milked my cow last night?"--"The Lord in -heaven knows, your honour. Who could it be, sir, without it was the -ghost who has laid that poor lad in his sick hammock?" - -"And I suppose that the ghost ordered you to hand the milk to the young -gentlemen when he had done?"--"Me, sir! Heaven save me! I never se'ed a -ghost in my life." - -"Hypocrite! the bottle you sold the midshipmen!"--"One, your honour, I -brought from Antigua, and which I overlooked yesterday." - -"I shall not overlook it when I get you to the gangway. Go, Mr. -Littlejohn, give orders to beat to quarters the moment the men have had -their time." - -All that forenoon the captain kept officers and men exercising -the great guns, running them in and out, pointing them here and -there;--sail-trimmers aloft--boarders on the starboard bow--firemen down -in the fore-hold: the men had not a moment's respite, nor the officers -either. How potently in their hearts they d--d the cow, even from the -tips of her horns unto the tuft at the end of her tail! Five secret -resolves were made to poison her that hard-worked morning. Mr. Small -Jack, who was stationed at the foremost main-deck guns near her, gave -her a kick every time the order came from the quarter-deck to ram home -wad and shot. - -Well, this sweltering work, under a tropical sun, proceeded till noon, -the captain alternately swearing at the officers for want of energy, -and exclaiming to himself indignantly, "D--them! how dare they milk my -cow! There must be several concerned. Send the carpenter aft. Mr. Wedge, -rig both the chain-pumps,--turn the water on in the well. Waisters! man -the pumps. Where's that Grummet? Boatswain's mates, out with your colts -and lay them over the shoulders of any man that shirks his duty; keep a -sharp eye on the captain of the waist." - -And thus the poor fellows had, for a finish to their morning's labour, -a half-hour of the most overpowering exertion to which you can set -mortal man,--that of working at the chain-pumps. When Mr. Littlejohn -saw elderly Joseph Grummet stripped to the waist, the perspiration -streaming down him in bucket-fulls, and panting as it were for his very -life, he, the said Small Jack, very rightly opined that no milk would be -forthcoming next morning. - -At noon the men were as usual piped to dinner, with an excellent -appetite for their pork and pease, and a thirsty relish for their grog; -for which blessings they had the cow alone to thank. They were very -ungrateful. - -No sooner was the hour of dinner over than the captain all of a sudden -discovered that his ship's company were not smart enough in reefing -topsails. So at it they went, racing up and down the rigging, tricing -up and laying out, lowering away and hoisting, until six bells, three -o'clock, when the angry and hungry captain went to his dinner. He had -made himself more unpopular in that day than any other commander in the -fleet. - -The dinner was unsocial enough. When a man is not satisfied with -himself, it is rarely that he is satisfied with any body else. Now -the whole ship's company, officers as well as men, were divided into -parties, and into only two, respecting this affair of the cow; one -believed in a supernatural, the other in a roguish agency; in numbers -they were about equal, so that the captain stood in the pleasant -predicament of being looked upon in a sinful light by one half of his -crew, and in a ludicrous one by the other. - -However, as the night advanced, and the marine who had seen the -cow-spirit grew worse, the believers in the supernatural increased -rapidly; and as one sentinel was found unwilling to go alone, the cow -had the distinguished compliment of a guard of honour of two all night. -The captain, with a scornful defiance of the spiritual, would allow of -no lights to be shown, or of no extraordinary precautions to be taken. -He only signified his intentions of having himself an interview with the -ghost, and for that purpose he walked the deck till midnight; but the -messenger from the land of spirits did not choose to show himself so -early. - -Let me hear no more any querulous talk of the labour of getting butter -to one's bread--no person could have toiled more than the Honourable -Captain Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban to get milk for his breakfast. - -The two sentries were relieved at twelve o'clock, and, for a quarter of -an hour after, everything remaining dark and quiet about the haunted -cow, the captain went below and turned in, joyfully anticipative of milk -and cream in the morning. He left, of course, the most positive orders -that the moment the ghost appeared he should be called. - -Mr. Mitchell, the pious first lieutenant, remained on deck, determined -to see the sequel; told the master he was much troubled in spirit, and -he thought, with all due deference to the articles of war, and respect -for the captain, that he was little better than an infidel, and an -overbold tempter of God's providence. The master remarked in reply that -it was an affair entirely out of soundings; but very sagely concluded -that they should see what they should see, even if they saw nothing. - -It was a beautiful night, darkly, yet, at the same time, brightly -beautiful. There was no moon. The pure fires above were like -scintillations from the crown of God's glory. Though the heavens were -thus starred with splendours, it was deeply, though clearly, dark on -the ocean. There was a gentle breeze that was only sufficient to make -the sails draw, and the noble frigate walked stately, yet majestically -onwards. - -Forward on the main-deck the darkness was Cimmerian. When lights had -been last there at the relieving of the sentinels, the cow had laid -herself quietly down upon her litter, and seemed to be in a profound -sleep; the first hour after midnight was passed, and all was hushed -as death, save those noises that indicate what else would be absolute -silence more strongly. There was the whispering ripple of the sea, -the dull creaking of the tiller-ropes, and the stealthy step of the -sentinels: these sounds, and these only, were painfully distinct. One -bell struck, and its solemn echoes seemed to creep through the decks as -if on some errand of death, and the monotonous cry of the look-outs fell -drearily on the ear. - -The first lieutenant and the officers of the watch had just begun to -shake off their dreamy and fearful impressions, to breathe more freely, -and to walk the deck with a firmer tread, when, from what was supposed -to be the haunted spot, a low shriek was heard, then a bustle, followed -by half-stifled cries of "The guard! the guard!" - -The officers of the watch jumped down on to the main-deck, the -midshipmen rushed into the cabin to call the captain, and men with and -without lights rushed forward to the rescue. - -Deep in the darkness of the manger there glared an apparition that might -more than justify the alarm. The spot where the phantom was seen, (we -pledge ourselves that we are relating facts,) was that part of a frigate -which seamen call "the eyes of her," directly under the foremost part -of the forecastle, where the cables run through the hawse-holes, and -through which the bowsprit trends upwards. The whole place is called the -manger. It is very often appropriated to the use of pigs until they take -their turn for the butcher's knife. This was the strange locality that -the ghost chose to honour with its dreadful presence. - -From the united evidences of the many who saw this ghastly avatar, -it appeared only to have thrust its huge head and a few feet of the -forepart of its body through the hawse-hole, the remainder of its vast -and voluminous tail hanging out of the ship over its bows. The frightful -head and the sockets of its eyes were distinctly marked in lineaments -of fire. Its jaws were stupendous, and its triple row of sharp and -long-fanged teeth seemed to be gnashing for something mortal to devour. -It cast a pale blue halo of light around it, just sufficient to show -the outlines of the den it had selected in which to make its unwelcome -appearance. Noise it made none, though several of the spectators fancied -that they heard a gibbering of unearthly sounds; and Mr. Littlejohn -swore the next day upon his John Hamilton Moore, that it mooed dolefully -like a young bullock crossed in love. - -To describe the confusion on the main-deck, whilst officers, seamen, and -marines were gazing on this spectre, so like the fiery spirit of the -Yankee sea-serpent, is a task from which I shrink, knowing that language -cannot do it adequately. The first lieutenant stood in the middle of the -group, not merely transfixed, but paralysed with fear; men were tumbling -over each other, shouting, praying, swearing. Up from the dark holds, -like shrouded ghosts, the watch below, in their shirts, sprang from -their hammocks; and for many, one look was enough, and the head would -vanish immediately in the dark profound. The shouting for lights, and -loaded muskets and pistols was terrible; and the orders to advance were -so eagerly reiterated, that none had leisure to obey them. - -But the cow herself did not present the least imposing feature in this -picture of horror. She formed, as it were, the barrier between mortality -and spirituality--all beyond her was horrible and spectral; by her -fright she seemed to acknowledge the presence of a preternatural being. -Her legs were stiff and extended, her tail standing out like that of an -angered lion, and she kept a continued strain upon the halter with which -she was tethered to a ring-bolt in the ship's side. - -By this time several of the ward-room officers, and most of the -midshipmen, had reached the scene of action. Pistols were no longer -wanting, and loaded ones too. Three shots were fired into the manger, -with what aim it is impossible to specify, at the spectre. They did not -seem to annoy his ghostship in the least; without an indication of his -beginning to grow hungry, might be deemed so. As the shot whistled past -him, he worked his huge and fiery jaws most ravenously. - -"Well," said the second lieutenant, "let us give the gentleman another -shot, and then come to close quarters. Mr. Mitchell, you have a pistol -in your hand: fire!" - -"In the name of the Holy Trinity!" said the superstitious first, -"there!" Bang! and the shot took effect deep in the loins of the -unfortunate cow. - -At this precise moment, Captain the Honourable Augustus Fitzroy -Fitzalban rushed from his cabin forward, attired in a rich flowered silk -morning-gown, in which scarlet predominated. He held a pistol cocked -in each hand; and, as he broke through the crowd, he bellowed forth -lustily, "Where's the ghost! let me see the ghost!" He was soon in the -van of the astonished gazers; but, disappointed Fitzalban! he saw no -ghost, because, as the man says in the Critic, "'twas not in sight." - -Immediately the honourable captain had gained his station, the much -wronged and persecuted cow, galled by her wound, with a mortal effort -snapped the rope with which she was fastened, and then lowering her -horned head nearly level with the deck, and flourishing her tail -after the manner that an Irishman flourishes his shillelagh before he -commences occipital operations, she rushed upon the crowded phalanx -before her. At this instant, as if its supernatural mission had been -completed, the spirit vanished. - -The ideal having decamped, those concerned had to save themselves from -the well followed up assaults of the real. The captain flew before the -pursuing horns, d--ning the cow in all the varieties of condemnation. -But she was generous, and she attached herself to him with an unwonted, -or rather an unwanted, fidelity. Lanterns were crushed and men -overthrown, and laughter now arose amidst the shouts of dismay. The -seamen tried to impede the progress of the furious animal by throwing -down before her lashed-up hammocks, and by seizing her behind by the -tail: but, woe is me! the Honourable the Captain Augustus Fitzroy -Fitzalban could not run so fast in his variegated and scarlet flowered -silk dressing-gown as a cow in the agonies of death; for he had just -reached that asylum of safety, his cabin-door, when the cow took him -up very carefully with her horns, and first giving him a monitory -shake, then with an inclination to port, she tossed him right over the -ward-room skylight, and deposited him very gingerly in the turtle-tub -that stood lashed on the larboard side of the half-deck. This exertion -was her last; for immediately alter falling upon her knees, and then -gently rolling over, to use an Homeric expression, her soul issued from -her wound, and sought the shades below appropriated to the souls of cows. - -In the mean time, the captain was sprawling about, and contending with -his turtle for room, and he stood a very good chance of being drowned -even in a tub; but assistance speedily arriving, he was drawn out, -and thus the world was spared a second tale of a tub. But there was -something in the spirit of the aristocratic Fitzalban that neither -cows, ghosts, nor turtle-haunted water could subdue. Wet as he was, and -suffering also from the contusions of the cow's horns, he immediately -ordered more light, and proceeded to search for the ghost,--prolific -parent of all his mishaps. - -Well escorted he visited the manager, but the most scrutinising search -could discover nothing extraordinary. The place seemed to have been -undisturbed, nor once to have departed from its usual solitariness -and dirt. There was not even so much as a smell of sulphur on the spot -where the spectre had appeared, nor were there any signs of wet, which, -supposing the thing seen had been a real animal, would have been the -case, had it come from the sea through one of the hawse-holes. The -whole affair was involved in the most profound mystery. The honourable -captain, therefore, came to the conclusion that nothing whatever had -appeared, and that the whole was the creation of cowardice. - -Hot with rage and agueish with cold, he retired to his cabin, vowing -all manner of impossible vengeance, muttering about courts-martial, and -solemnly protesting that Mr. Mitchell, the first lieutenant, should pay -him for the cow that he had so wantonly shot. - -Blank were the countenances of many the next morning. The first -lieutenant was not, as usual, asked to breakfast. There was distrust and -division in his Majesty's ship Nænia, and the Honourable the Captain -Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban had several severe contusions on his noble -person, a bad cold, and no milk for breakfast; an accumulation of evils -that one of the aristocracy ought not to be obliged to bear. Though Mr. -Mitchell did not breakfast with the captain, Jack Small, alias Small -Jack, alias Mr. Littlejohn, did. The only attempt of the captain that -morning at conversation was as follows. With a voice that croaked like -a raven's at the point of death, evidence _externe_ of an abominable -sore-throat, the captain merely said to the reefer, pointing his -fore-finger downwards as he did the day before, "_Milk?_" - -Mr. Littlejohn shook his head dolefully, and replied, "No, sir." - -"My cow died last night," said the afflicted commander with a pathos -that would have wrung the heart of a stone statue--if it could have -heard it. - -"If you please, sir," said the steward, "Mr. Mitchell sends his -compliments, and would be very glad to know what you would have done -with the dead cow."--"My compliments to Mr. Mitchell and _he_ may do -whatever he likes with it. He shot it, and must pay me for it: let him -eat it if he will." - -The first lieutenant and the captain were, after this, not on speaking -terms for three months. Several duels had very nearly been fought -about the ghost; those who had not seen it, branding those who had -with an imputation only a little short of cowardice; those who had -seen it, becoming for a few weeks very religious, and firmly resolving -henceforward to get drunk only in pious company. The carcase of the cow -was properly dressed and cut up, but few were found who would eat of it; -the majority of the seamen thinking that the animal had been bewitched: -the captain of course would take none of it unless Mr. Mitchell would -permit him to pay him for it at so much per pound, as he pertinaciously -pretended to consider it to be the property of the first lieutenant. -Consequently, the animal was neatly shared between the midshipmen's -berth and the mess of which Joseph Grummet, the captain of the waist, -was an unworthy member. - -The day following the death of the cow, Joseph Grummet was found -loitering about the door of the young gentlemen's berth. - -"Any milk to-morrow, Joseph?" said the caterer.--"No, sir," with a most -sensible shake of the head. - -"Oh!--the cow has given up the ghost!"--"_And somebody else too!_" This -simple expression seemed to have much relieved Joe's overcharged bosom: -he turned his quid in his month with evident satisfaction, grinned, and -was shortly after lost in the darkness forward. - - * * * * * - -There never yet was a ghost story that did not prove a very simple -affair when the key to it was found. The captain of the Nænia never -would believe that anything uncommon was ever seen at all. He was, -however, as much in the wrong as those who believed that they had seen -a ghost. The occurrence could not be forgotten, though it ceased to be -talked of. - -Two years after the ship came to England, and was paid off. Joseph -Grummet bagged his notes and his sovereigns with much satisfaction; -but he did not jump like a fool into the first boat, and rush ashore -to scatter his hard-earned wages among Jews, and people still worse: -he stayed till the last man, and anxiously watched for the moment when -the pennant should be hauled down. When he saw this fairly done, he -asked leave to speak to the captain. He was ushered into the cabin, and -he there saw many of the officers who were taking leave of their old -commander. - -"Well, Grummet," said the skipper, "what now?" - -"Please your honour, you offered five guineas to anybody who would tell -you who milked the cow." - -"And so I will gladly," said the captain, pleasantly, "if the same -person will unravel the mystery of the ghost." And he turned a -triumphant look upon the believers in spirits who stood around him. - -"I milked your cow, sir." - -"Ah! Joseph, Joseph! it was unkindly done. But with your hands?"--"We -widened a pair of Mr. Littlejohn's kid-gloves, sir." - -"I knew that little rascal was at the bottom of it! but there is honour -in the midshipmen's berth still. What is the reason that they thus -sought to deprive me of my property?"--"You wouldn't allow them to take -any live stock on board that cruise, sir." - -"So--so--wild justice, hey? But come to the ghost."--"Why, sir, I wanted -to have the cow unwatched for a quarter of an hour every middle watch; -so I took the shark's head we had caught a day or two before, scraped -off most of the flesh, and whipped it in a bread-bag,--it shone brighter -in the dark than stinking mackerel;--so I whips him out when I wants -him, and wabbles his jaws about. I was safely stowed under the bowsprit -from your shot; and when your honour walked in on one side of the -manger, I walked, with my head under my arm, out of the other." - -"Well, Joseph, there are your five guineas: and, gentlemen," said -the Honourable the Captain Augustus Fitzroy Fitzalban, bowing to his -officers, "I wish you joy of your ghost!" - - - - - OLD AGE AND YOUTH. - BY THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY. - - Old Age sits bent on his iron-grey steed; - Youth rides erect on his courser black; - And little he thinks in his reckless speed - Old Age comes on, in the _very same track_. - - And on Youth goes, with his cheek like the rose, - And his radiant eyes, and his raven hair; - And his laugh betrays how little he knows, - Of AGE, and his sure companion CARE. - - The courser black is put to his speed, - And Age plods on, in a quieter way, - And little Youth thinks that the iron-grey steed - Approaches him nearer, every day! - - Though one seems strong as the forest tree, - The other infirm, and wanting breath; - _If ever_ YOUTH baffles OLD AGE, 'twill be - By rushing into the arms of DEATH! - - On his courser black, away Youth goes, - The prosing sage may rest at home; - He'll laugh and quaff, for well he knows - That years must pass ere Age _can come_. - - And since too brief are the daylight hours - For those who would laugh their lives away; - With beaming lamps, and mimic flowers, - He'll teach the night to mock the day! - - Again he'll laugh, again he'll feast, - His lagging foe he'll still deride, - Until--when he expects him least-- - Old Age and he stand side by side! - - He then looks into his toilet-glass, - And sees Old Age reflected there! - He cries, "Alas! how quickly pass - Bright eyes, and bloom, and raven hair!" - - The lord of the courser black, must ride - On the iron-grey steed, sedate and slow! - And thus to him who his power defied, - Old Age must come like a conquering foe. - - Had the prosing sage not preach'd in vain, - Had Youth not written his words on sand, - Had he early paused, and given the rein - Of his courser black to a steadier hand: - - Oh! just as gay might his days have been, - Though mirth with graver thoughts might blend; - And when at his side Old Age was seen, - He had been hail'd as a timely friend. - - - - - AN EVENING OF VISITS. - BY J. FENIMORE COOPER, AUTHOR OF "THE PILOT." - -I have had an odd pleasure in driving from one house to another on -particular evenings, in order to produce as strong contrasts as my -limited visiting list will afford. Having a fair opportunity a few -nights since, in consequence of two or three invitations coming in for -the evening on which several houses where I occasionally called were -opened, I determined to make a night of it, in order to note the effect. -As A---- did not know several of the people, I went alone, and you may -possibly be amused with an account of my adventures: they shall be told. - -In the first place I had to dress, in order to go to dinner at a house -that I had never entered, and with a family of which I had never seen a -soul. These are incidents which frequently come over a stranger, and, -at first, were not a little awkward, but use hardens us to much greater -misfortunes. At six, then, I stepped punctually into my _coupé_, and -gave Charles the necessary number and street. I ought to tell you that -the invitation had come a few days before, and, in a fit of curiosity, -I had accepted it, and sent a card, without having the least idea who -my host and hostess were, beyond their names. There was something -piquant in this ignorance, and I had almost made up my mind to go in -the same mysterious manner, leaving all to events, when happening in -an idle moment to ask a lady of my acquaintance, and for whom I have a -great respect, if she knew a Madame de ----, to my surprise her answer -was, "Most certainly--she is my cousin, and you are to dine there -to-morrow." I said no more, though this satisfied me that my hosts were -people of some standing. While driving to their hotel, it struck me, -under all the circumstances, it might be well to know more of them; and -I stopped at the gate of a female friend who knows everybody, and who -I was certain would receive me even at that unseasonable hour. I was -admitted, explained my errand, and inquired if she knew a M. de ----. -"Quelle question!" she exclaimed; "M. de ---- est Chancelier de la -France!" Absurd, and even awkward, as it might have proved but for this -lucky thought, I should have dined with the French Lord High Chancellor -without having the smallest suspicion who he was! - -The hotel was a fine one, though the apartment was merely good; and -the reception, service, and general style of the house were so simple, -that neither would have awakened the least suspicion of the importance -of my hosts. The party was small, and the dinner modest. I found the -_Chancelier_ a grave dignified man, a little curious on the subject of -America; and his wife, apparently a woman of great good sense, and, I -should think, of a good deal of attainment. Every thing went off in the -quietest manner possible, and I was sorry when it was time to go. - -From this dinner I drove to the hotel of the Marquis de Marbois, to -pay a visit of digestion. M. de Marbois retires so early on account of -his great age, that one is obliged to be punctual, or he will find the -gate locked at nine. The company had got back into the drawing-room; -and as the last week's guests were mostly there, as well as those who -had just left the table, there might have been thirty people present, -all of whom were men, but two. One of the ladies was Madame de Souza, -known in French literature as the writer of several clever novels -of society. In the drawing-room were grouped in clusters the Grand -Referendary, M. Cuvier, M. Daru, M. Villemain, M. de Plaisance, Mr. -Brown, and many others of note. There seemed to be something in the -wind, as the conversation was in low confidential whispers, attended -by divers ominous shrugs. This could only be politics; and, watching -an opportunity, I questioned an acquaintance. The fact was really so. -The appointed hour had come, and the ministry of M. de Villèle was in -the agony. The elections had not been favourable, and it was expedient -to make an attempt to reach the _old_ end by what is called a _new_ -combination. It is necessary to understand the general influence of -political intrigues on certain _côteries_ of Paris, to appreciate the -effect of this intelligence on a drawing-room filled like this, with men -who had been actors in the principal events of France for forty years. -The name of M. Cuvier was even mentioned as one of the new ministers. -Comte Roy was also named as likely to be the new premier. I was told -that this gentleman was one of the greatest landed proprietors of -France, his estates being valued at four millions of dollars. The fact -is curious, as showing, not on vulgar rumour, but from a respectable -source, what is deemed a first-rate landed property in this country. It -is certainly no merit, nor do I believe it is any very great advantage; -but I think we might materially beat this, even in America. The company -soon separated, and retired. - -From the Place de la Madeleine I drove to a house near the Carrousel, -where I had been invited to step in, in the course of the evening. All -the buildings that remain within the intended parallelogram, which will -some day make this spot one of the finest squares in the world, have -been bought by the government, or nearly so, with the intent to have -them pulled down at a proper time; and the court bestows lodgings, -_ad interim_, among them, on its favourites. Madame de ---- was one of -these favoured persons, and she occupies a small apartment in the third -story of one of these houses. The rooms were neat and well arranged, -but small. Probably the largest does not exceed fifteen feet square. -The approach to a Paris lodging is usually either very good or very -bad. In the new buildings may be found some of the mediocrity of the -new order of things; but in all those which were erected previously to -the Revolution, there is nothing but extremes in this as in most other -things,--great luxury and elegance, or great meanness and discomfort. -The house of Madame de ---- happens to be of the latter class; and -although all the disagreeables have disappeared from her own rooms, one -is compelled to climb up to them through a dark well of a staircase, by -flights of steps not much better than those we use in our stables. You -have no notion of such staircases as those I had just descended in the -hotels of the Chancelier and the Premier President;[18] nor have we any -just idea, as connected with respectable dwellings of these I had now -to clamber up. M. de ---- is a man of talents and great respectability, -and his wife is exceedingly clever, but they are not rich. He is a -professor, and she is an artist. After having passed so much of my youth -on top-gallant-yards, and in becketting royals, you are not to suppose, -however, I had any great difficulty in getting up these stairs, narrow, -steep, and winding as they were. - -We are now at the door, and I have rung. On whom do you imagine the -curtain will rise? On a _réunion_ of philosophers some to discuss -questions in botany with M. de ----, or on artists assembled to talk over -the troubles of their profession with his wife? The door opens, and I -enter. - -The little drawing-room was crowded; chiefly with men. Two card-tables -were set, and at one I recognised a party, in which were three dukes -of the _vieille cour_, with M. de Duras at their head! The rest of the -company was a little more mixed; but, on the whole, it savoured strongly -of Coblentz and the _émigration_. This was more truly French than -anything I had yet stumbled on. One or two of the grandees looked at me -as if, better informed than Scott, they knew that General La Fayette -had not gone to America to live. Some of these gentlemen certainly do -not love us; but I had cut out too much work for the night to stay and -return the big looks of even dukes, and, watching an opportunity when -the eyes of Madame de ---- were another way, I stole out of the room. - -Charles now took his orders, and we drove down into the heart of the -town, somewhere near the general post-office, or into those mazes of -streets that near two years of practice have not yet taught me to -thread. We entered the court of a large hotel that was brilliantly -lighted; and I ascended, by a noble flight of steps, to the first floor. -Ante-chambers communicated with a magnificent saloon, which appeared to -be near forty feet square. The ceilings were lofty, and the walls were -ornamented with military trophies, beautifully designed, and which had -the air of being embossed and gilded. I had got into the hotel of one of -Napoleon's marshals, you will say, or at least into one of a marshal -of the old _régime_. The latter conjecture may be true, but the house -is now inhabited by a great woollen manufacturer, whom the events of -the day have thrown into the presence of all these military emblems. I -found the worthy _industriel_ surrounded by a group, composed of men of -his own stamp, eagerly discussing the recent changes in the government. -The women, of whom there might have been a dozen, were ranged, like -a neglected parterre, along the opposite side of the room. I paid my -compliments, stayed a few minutes, and stole away to the next engagement. - -We had now to go to a little retired house on the Champs Elysées. There -were only three or four carriages before the door, and on ascending to -a small, but very neat apartment, I found some twenty people collected. -The mistress of the house was an English lady, single, of a certain age, -and a daughter of the Earl of ----, who was once governor of New York. -Here was a very different set: one or two ladies of the old court, women -of elegant manners, and seemingly of good information; several English -women, pretty, quiet, and clever; besides a dozen men of different -nations. This was one of those little _réunions_ that are so common in -Paris among the foreigners, in which a small infusion of French serves -to leaven a considerable batch of human beings from other parts of the -world. As it is always a relief to me to speak my own language, after -being a good while among foreigners, I stayed an hour at this house. -In the course of the evening an Irishman of great wit and of exquisite -humour, one of the paragons of the age in his way, came in. In the -course of conversation, this gentleman, who is the proprietor of an -Irish estate, and a Catholic, told me of an atrocity in the laws of his -country of which until then I was ignorant. It seems that any younger -brother, or next heir, might claim the estate by turning Protestant, or -drive the incumbent to the same act. I was rejoiced to hear that there -was hardly an instance of such profligacy known.[19] To what baseness -will not the struggle for political ascendancy urge us! - -In the course of the evening, Mr. ----, the Irish gentleman, gravely -introduced me to a Sir James ----, adding, with perfect gravity, "a -gentleman whose father humbugged the Pope--humbugged infallibility." -One could not but be amused with such an introduction, urged in a way -so infinitely droll, and I ventured, at a proper moment, to ask an -explanation, which, unless I was also humbugged, was as follows. - -Among the _détenus_ in 1804 was Sir William ----, the father of Sir -James ----, the person in question. Taking advantage of the presence of -the Pope at Paris, he is said to have called on the good-hearted Pius, -with great concern of manner, to state his case. He had left his sons in -England, and through his absence they had fallen under the care of two -Presbyterian aunts; as a father he was naturally anxious to rescue them -from this perilous situation. "Now, Pius," continued my merry informant, -"quite naturally supposed that all this solicitude was in behalf of two -orthodox Catholic souls, and he got permission from Napoleon for the -return of so good a father to his own country,--never dreaming that the -conversion of the boys, if it ever took place, would only be from the -Protestant Episcopal Church of England to that of Calvin; or a rescue -from one of the devil's furnaces to pop them into another." I laughed -at this story, I suppose with a little incredulity; but my Irish friend -insisted on its truth, ending the conversation with a significant nod, -Catholic as he was, and saying--"humbugged infallibility!" - -By this time it was eleven o'clock; and as I am obliged to keep -reasonable hours, it was time to go to _the_ party of the evening. -Count ----, of the ---- Legation, gave a great ball. My carriage entered -the line at the distance of near a quarter of a mile from the hotel; -gensdarmes being actively employed in keeping us all in our places. It -was half an hour before I was set down, and the quadrilles were in full -motion when I entered. It was a brilliant affair,--much the most so, I -have ever yet witnessed in a private house. Some said there were fifteen -hundred people present. The number seems incredible; and yet, when one -comes to calculate, it may be so. As I got into my carriage to go away, -Charles informed me that the people at the gates affirm that more than -six hundred carriages had entered the court that evening. By allowing -an average of little more than two to each vehicle, we get the number -mentioned. - -I do not know exactly how many rooms were opened on this occasion, but -I should think there were fully a dozen. Two or three were very large -_salons_; and the one in the centre, which was almost at fever heat, -had crimson hangings, by way of cooling one. I have never witnessed -dancing at all comparable to that of the quadrilles of this evening. -Usually there is either too much or too little of the dancing-master, -but on this occasion every one seemed inspired with a love of the art. -It was a beautiful sight to see a hundred charming young women, of the -first families of Europe,--for they were there, of all nations, dressed -with the simple elegance that is so becoming to the young of the sex, -and which is never departed from here until after marriage,--moving in -perfect time to delightful music, as if animated by a common soul. The -men, too, did better than usual, being less lugubrious and mournful than -our sex is apt to be in dancing. I do not know how it is in private, but -in the world, at Paris, every young woman seems to have a good mother; -or, at least, one capable of giving her both a good tone and good taste. - -At this party I met the ----, an intimate friend of the ambassador, -and one who also honours me with a portion of her friendship. In -talking over the appearance of things, she told me that some hundreds -of _applications for invitations_ to this ball had been made. -"Applications! I cannot conceive of such meanness. In what manner?" -"Directly; by note, by personal intercession--almost by tears. Be -certain of it, many hundreds have been refused." In America we hear -of refusals to go to balls, but we have not yet reached the pass of -sending refusals to invite! "Do you see Mademoiselle ----, dancing in -the set before you?" She pointed to a beautiful French girl whom I had -often seen at her house, but whose family was in a much lower station in -society than herself. "Certainly; pray how came _she_ here?" "I brought -her. Her mother was dying to come, too, and she begged me to get an -invitation for her and her daughter; but it would not do to bring the -mother to such a place, and I was obliged to say no more tickets could -be issued. I wished, however, to bring the daughter, she is so pretty; -and we compromised the affair in that way." "And to this the mother -assented!" "Assented! How can you doubt it? What funny American notions -you have brought with you to France!" - -I got some droll anecdotes from my companion, concerning the ingredients -of the company on this occasion, for she could be as sarcastic as she -was elegant. A young woman near us, attracted attention by a loud -and vulgar manner of laughing. "Do you know that lady?" demanded my -neighbour. "I have seen her before, but scarcely know her name." "She -is the daughter of your acquaintance, the Marquise de ----." "Then she -is, or was, a Mademoiselle de ----." "She is not, nor properly ever was, -a Mademoiselle de ----. In the Revolution the Marquis was imprisoned by -you wicked republicans, and the Marquise fled to England, whence she -returned, after an absence of three years, bringing with her this young -lady, then an infant a few months old." "And Monsieur le Marquis?" "He -never saw his daughter, having been beheaded in Paris, about a year -before her birth." "_Quel contre-temps!_" "_N'est-ce pas?_" - -It is a melancholy admission, but it is no less true, that good breeding -is sometimes quite as active a virtue as good principles. How many more -of the company present were born about a year after their fathers were -beheaded, I have no means of knowing, but had it been the case with all -of them, the company would have been of as elegant demeanour, and of -much more _retenue_ of deportment, than we are accustomed to see, I will -not say in _good_, but certainly in _general_ society, at home. One of -the consequences of good breeding is also a disinclination, positively -a distaste, to pry into the private affairs of others. The little -specimen to the contrary, just named, was rather an exception, owing to -the character of the individual, and to the indiscretion of the young -lady in laughing too loud; and then the affair of a birth so _very_ -posthumous was rather too _patent_ to escape all criticism. - -My friend was in a gossiping mood this evening, and, as she was well -turned of fifty, I ventured to continue the conversation. As some of the -_liaisons_ which exist here must be novel to you, I shall mention one or -two more. - -A Madame de J---- passed us, leaning on the arm of M. de C----. I knew -the former, who was a widow; had frequently visited her, and had been -surprised at the intimacy which existed between her, and M. de C----, -who always appeared quite at home in her house. I ventured to ask my -neighbour if the gentleman were the brother of the lady. "Her brother! -It is to be hoped not, as he is her husband." "Why does she not bear -his name, if that be the case?" "Because her first husband is of a more -illustrious family than her second; and then there are some difficulties -on the score of fortune. No, no. These people are _bonâ fide_ married. -_Tenez_--do you see that gentleman who is standing so assiduously near -the chair of Madame de S----? He who is all attention and smiles to the -lady?" "Certainly: his politeness is even affectionate." "Well, it ought -to be, for it is M. de S----, her husband." "They are a happy couple, -then." "_Hors de doute_: he meets her at _soirées_ and balls; is the -pink of politeness; puts on her shawl; sees her safe into her carriage, -and----" "Then they drive home together, as loving as Darby and Joan." -"And then he jumps into his _cabriolet_, and drives to the lodgings -of ----. _Bon soir, monsieur_----; you are making me fall into the vulgar -crime of scandal." - -Now, much as all this may sound like invention, it is quite true that -I repeat no more to you than was said to me, and no more than what I -believe to be the fact. As respects the latter couple, I have been -elsewhere told that they literally never see each other except in -public, where they constantly meet as the best friends in the world. - -I was lately in some English society, when Lady G---- bet a pair of -gloves with Lord R---- that he had not seen Lady R---- for a fortnight. -The bet was won by the gentleman, who proved satisfactorily that he had -met his wife at a dinner party only ten days before. - -After all I have told you, and all that you may have heard from others, -I am nevertheless inclined to believe that the high society of Paris is -quite as exemplary as that of any other large European town. If we are -any better ourselves, is it not more owing to the absence of temptation, -than to any other cause? Put large garrisons into our towns, fill the -streets with idlers who have nothing to do but to render themselves -agreeable, and with women with whom dress and pleasure are the principal -occupations, and then let us see what Protestantism and liberty will -avail us in this particular. The intelligent French say that their -society is improving in morals. I can believe this assertion, of which I -think there is sufficient proof by comparing the present with the past, -as the latter has been described to us. By the past, I do not mean the -period of the Revolution, when vulgarity assisted to render vice still -more odious--a happy union, perhaps, for those who were to follow,--but -the days of the old _régime_. Chance has thrown me in the way of three -or four old dowagers of that period, women of high rank, and still in -the first circles, who, amid all their _finesse_ of breeding, and ease -of manner, have had a most desperate _rouée_ air about them. Their very -laugh, at times, has seemed replete with a bold levity that was as -disgusting as it was unfeminine. I have never, in any other part of the -world, seen loose sentiments _affichés_, with more effrontery. These -women are the complete antipodes of the quiet, elegant Princesse de ----, -who was at Lady ---- ----'s this evening; though some of them write -_Princesses_ on their cards, too. - -The influence of a court must be great on the morals of those who -live in its purlieus. Conversing with the Duc de ----, a man who has -had general currency in the best society of Europe, on this subject, -he said,--"England has long decried our manners. Previously to the -Revolution, I admit they were bad; perhaps worse than her own; but I -know nothing in our history so bad as what I have witnessed in England. -The King invited me to dine at Windsor. I found every one in the -drawing-room, but his Majesty and Lady ----. She entered but a minute -before him, like a queen. Her reception was that of a queen; young, -unmarried females kissed her hand. Now, all this might happen in France, -even now; but Louis XV, the most dissolute of our monarchs, went no -farther. At Windsor, I saw the husband, sons, and daughters of the -favourite, in the circle! _Le parc des Cerfs_ was not as bad as this." - -"And yet, M. de ----, since we are conversing frankly, listen to what -I witnessed, but the other day, in France. You know the situation of -things at St. Ouen, and the rumours that are so rife. We had the _fête -Dieu_ during my residence there. You, who are a Catholic, need not be -told that your sect believe in the doctrine of the 'real presence.' -There was a _reposoir_ erected in the garden of the _château_, and God, -in person, was carried, with religious pomp, to rest in the bowers of -the ex-favourite. It is true, the husband was not present: he was only -in the provinces!" - -"The influence of a throne makes sad parasites and hypocrites," -said M. de ----, shrugging his shoulders. - -"And the influence of the people, too, though in a different way. A -courtier is merely a well-dressed demagogue." - -"It follows, then, that man is just a poor devil." - -But I am gossiping away with you, when my Asmodean career is ended; -and it is time I went to bed. Good night! - -[18] M. de Marbois was the first president of the Court of Accounts. - -[19] I believe this infamous law, however, has been repealed. - - - - - METASTASIO. - - I. - _La Signora._ - Chi sei tu? Chi sei tu? - Dimmi piccolo fanciullo, - Sempr' andante sù et giù - Sospirando fra 'l trastullo. - - _Cupid._ - Son Cupidon' in verità - Rè de' burle leggiadre. - - _La Sig._ - Dunque dì per carità, - Come stia, tua madre? - Senz' arco così, perchè? - Dove sono le saiette? - La faretra poi dov' è? - Sembianze son sospette-- - Chi sei tu? - - II. - _La Sig._ - Chi sei tu? chi sei tu? - Arme c'eran altre volte. - - _Cupid._ - Giovan' ELLA non è più - Mi furon' allora tolte. - - _La Sig._ - E la torcia, perchè, dì, - Hai voluto tu lasciare? - - _Cupid._ - Cuori signor' oggidì - Più non vogliono bruciare. - - _La Sig._ - Tu rispondermi così - Fanciulletto! che vergogna! - O! sei cambiato, sì, - Ate dunque dir' bisogna - "CHI SEI TU?" - - - FONTENELLE. - - I. - _La Dame._ - Qui es tu? Qui es tu? - Bel enfant aux gais sourires, - Toi qui cours tout devtu, - Et ris parfois, parfois soupires? - - _Cupidon._ - Dame, je suis Cupidon - Dieu d'amour, fils à CITHERE. - - _La Dame._ - Bel enfant, eh, dis moi donc - Comment va, VENUS, ta mere? - Cette fois, sans carquois - Je te vois avec surprise, - Cupidon, est il donc - Etonnant que l'on te dise - Qui es tu? - - II. - _La Dame._ - Qui es tu? Qui es tu? - Qu'a tu donc fait de tes armes, - De tes traits de fer pointu ...? - - _Cupidon._ - De _vos_ traits ... où sont les charmes? - - Vous votre beau, moi mon flambeau - Ensemble nous lâchâmes: - - Or, plus d'espoir helas! de voir - Pour nous les coeurs en flammes! - - _La Dame._ - Petit enfant, c'est peu galant - D'user pareil langage; - Pas étonnant que maintenant - Chacun dise au village - "QUI EST TU?" - - - SAM. LOVER. - - * * This song has been set to music - * by Mr. Lover, and is published. - - "Who are you?--Who are you? - Little boy that's running after - Ev'ry one up and down, - Mingling sighing with your laughter?" - - "I am Cupid, lady belle, - I am Cupid, and no other." - - "Little boy, then pr'ythee tell - How is Venus? How's your mother? - Little boy, little boy, - I desire you tell me true: - Cupid, oh! you're alter'd so, - No wonder I cry _Who are you?_" - - II. - "Who are you?--Who are you? - Little boy, where is your bow? - You had a bow, my little boy." - - "So had you, ma'am, long ago." - - "Little boy, where is your torch?" - "Madam, I have given it up: - - Torches are no use at all; - Hearts will never now _flare up_." - - "Naughty boy, naughty boy, - Such words as these I never knew: - Cupid, oh! you're alter'd so, - No wonder I say - "WHO ARE YOU?" - - - _WHO ARE YOU?_ - -"There are very impudent people in London," Said young Ben. "As I passed -down Arlington-street a fellow stared at me and shouted 'Who are you?' -Five minutes after, another passing me cried 'Flare up!' but a civil -gentleman close to his heels kindly asked 'How is your mother?' -_Vivian Grey._ - - [Illustration] - -"Il y a certaines façons de parler dans toutes les langues de l'Europe, -que l'on retrouve partout dans la bouche du vulgaire. A cette classe -apparsions "_Qui es tu?_" "_Comment va ta mere?_" En Italie comme -en France on n'entend que ça."--L'Abbé Bossu _sur les idiotismes du -langage_. - - - - - METROPOLITAN MEN OF SCIENCE. - - No. I. - -The author of the exploits of _Brown Bess_ and of _The Admirable -Crichton_ has announced his intention of _editing_ "_The Lions of -London_," a task of no ordinary description; and _Boz_ has already -chronicled the slang, humour, peculiarities, and vices of the omnibus -cads and cab-drivers. Pierce Egan, after uttering a vulgar forgery -of _Life in London_, has in a repentant fit announced himself as -"_A Pilgrim of the Thames_;" and, in short, the wonders of this -wondrous metropolis are drawn, depicted, coloured, printed, narrated, -represented, in every possible shape and way to the town and country -public. All this we know: but we know more; we know that there are -_the_ places, _the_ scenes, and _the_ characters to be visited, and -contemplated, and admired in town, which will be omitted to be noticed -by any of our pleasant historians; but which are, of all others, worthy -of sincere regard and periodical immortality! In the East, according to -the letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, the corner of the Kiosk was -the distinguished place of honour; and may we not conduct our readers to -corners and by-places, and "show their eyes and grieve their hearts?" -We have for some time felt a great anxiety to exhibit to our readers -a few remarkable features of society, or rather to introduce them to -Those who are connected with those features. All know, and yet all do -not intimately and in particular know, many of our great scientific -humanists, as connected with particular departments of our precious -faces or heads; but we long, we thirst, to be the chroniclers of - - Mr. A. and the eye, - Mr, B. and the ear, - Mr. C. and the nose, - Mr. D. and the teeth, - &c. &c. &c. - -Some of our readers will think we are about to publish the works of -_Head_ in the usual popular monthly series; but we see no reason why old -Burton should have it all to himself, and why a pleasant anatomy (which -must be an anatomy of pleasure) should not compete with the Anatomy of -Melancholy! - -We shall at once begin our agreeable task, and as it is _biting_ -weather, we will immediately come to Mr. D. and the teeth, than whom -a more amiable, honourable, or generous man, or a more decisive and -perfect artist, does not exist. Persons may think that his abode is a -mere place where drops of laudanum are dropped into wretched receptacles -of pain; or where bits of yellow double ivory are lugged out, as though -the teeth were dancing the hays in Hayes Court. No such thing! The house -is a palace! The man is a magician over the unruly spirit of teeth! The -arrangements are pleasant, touching, and delightful; and the operations -are rare and fascinating surprises, which no person with a discoloured -concave, or suspicious fang, ought to neglect! What a mansion! What an -artist! What a deathless D.! - -I do not know when I have experienced more of ease and pleasure than I -did in the capacious and comfortable ante-room; for I had, to speak the -truth, accompanied a friend who had the tooth-ache, and I saw around -me, various respectable objects of pang and pity, who were about to -have that salutary relief given to them, which the new poor-law has -directed to other poor devils, and which is derived from their _being -taken into the house_! One by one was beckoned out by the porter to the -relieving officer, and nothing could be more interesting or effective -than the departure of patient after patient, "with a muffled drum" for a -head, and who, as soon as the door closed, was "heard no more of!" What -luxury marks this apartment! The handles of the doors are a complete -set of ivories; and, indeed, the whole interior is one scene of mingled -splendour and comfort. Let our readers, as Brutus says, "_chew_ upon -this!" A large table stands in the room, covered with every work that -the imagination can devise, for the amusement and satisfaction of the -attentive reader. The students, however, in this room, are not so steady -and intent over their books as are the visitors to the library of the -British Museum; but they snatch a little agreeable reading by fits and -starts, and take up a very tolerable number of volumes and pamphlets, -and put them down in a remarkably short compass of time. The person to -whom the selection of this entertaining library has been entrusted, -has executed his task with discretion, fidelity, and spirit; and we -were pleased to notice, as we jotted down in our memorandum-book the -names of the most attractive of the works, how much he had endeavoured -to collect together, pages that should tend to soothe, beguile, and -cheer the casual visitor of the place. First we had "_Paine's Age of -Reason_"--a book calculated for those in whom pain and reason are so -invariably connected. Then we had "Sass's Drawings of the Human Figure;" -"The Sufferings of the Early Martyrs;" "History of the Inquisition, -with Prints of the Screws and Instruments of Torture;" "Lardner on the -Lever;" "Coulson on Distortions, &c." "Tracts on Tumours;" "Montgomery's -Omnipresence;" "Five Minutes' Advice on the Care of the Teeth;" "The -Lancet;" and "_Elegant Extracts_." There is no refreshment ready in -_this_ room, except that which is derived by the person who comes to -have his or her teeth "looked at," contemplating a near chair-neighbour -who is about to part with one of those useful inmates, which, like -all other domestics, get troublesome as they get older, and finally -lose their places from becoming in themselves perfectly unbearable! -The passages and galleries are magnificent--rows of pillars of the -_Tuscan_ order are in even sets, and in perfect order and keeping! On -the staircase, which is of marble, stands a superb clock, which _throbs_ -the time very awfully; and the suite of rooms on the first floor is, as -the visitors cannot but admit, of the most costly order. Refreshments -are here constantly spread before the lingerer, tempting those (who -have not had a wink of sleep for weeks) to eat and enjoy themselves. -In this house one thing is remarkable, and I think it tends to confuse -the mind,--"the drawing-room" is on the ground-floor! Here the soothing -sorcerer over anguish and horror--receives his visitors; and here, -indeed, he sees company in due state. I merely took a glimpse at this -room, which was by no means so provocative of curiosity to me as was the -blue chamber to that of Fatima's. - -A few _mems_ must close this weak and impotent description:--a few -recollections snatched amidst the fascination of the whole place! We -observed that the mode in which our artist expelled a troublesome -_double enemy_ put an end to the usual interpretation of Zanga's famous -exclamation, - - "The flesh _will_ follow where the pincers tear!" - -The _pincers_ might be used, but the flesh did _not_ follow,--the -eye-tooth came out as clean as a smelt. Mr. D. had several pictures -in _enamel_, which were much to be valued; and he had in his hall -a portrait by the late Sir Thomas Lawrence of Mr. Cartwright--and -likenesses by _H. B._ in one of his closets, of Howard, Imrie, Sanford, -Clarke, Jones, Parkinson, Hayes, Biggs, Rogers, &c. &c. which are -allowed to be, by all observers, admirable works of art. There is a -slight attempt at _Mallan_ in _mineral succedaneum_, which appears to be -falling away--we will not say decaying. - -One nuisance there is, and we cannot as honest historians pass it -over; the street, in which our D. lives, is disturbed, distracted, by -an excess of music, amounting, arising indeed, into a decided case -of "_organic_ disease." The _grinders_ making a point--it would seem -a pointed point--of showing themselves in the very front of that -building,--which is opposed to anything defective in the front! - -As we were about to depart from this attractive spot--not -_spot_--place,--we saw Charles Taylor or Tom Cooke slipping away with -every tooth perfect, and yet not without a _falsetto_. Some musical wag -however still remained, and by permission of the butler (a _drawer_ of -corks in large practice) we were allowed to hear the following song; and -we shall print it at once without comment, explanation, or excuse, - - "For, oh! Sir Thomas's own sonnet - Beats all that we can say upon it." - - - - - SONG, - For the Private Theatre or the _Drawing_-room. - _Air--Not_ "Pull away, pull away, pull away, my hearties!"--DIBDIN. - - Oh! this is the house for effects and for scenes,-- - What is Drury, Ducrow's, Covent Garden, the Queen's? - Success at the one or the other will pause, - But in this house the manager constantly _draws_.-- - Then let the Muse _be_ at her - Home, in this theatre; - Gain here, and glory, go snacks in applause. - - The crowds that come here, made of Beauty and Ninny, - Take--each takes a seat in the stall for a guinea; - Our great managerial actor then bows, - And, oh! with what pleasure he views _the front rows_! - Then let, &c. - - At the Opera they boast of the band and the _chori_, - Of Lindley,--of Balfe,--Dragonetti, and Mori; - But here finished art, perfect touch, take their station, - For who beats our hero in _instrumentation_? - Then let, &c. - - There's _Richard the Third_ is a favourite part, - And he mouths it, like some of our players, by heart; - But remember that Gloster, when first he drew breath, - Was shaped like a _screw_--with a _full set of teeth_. - Then let, &c. - - Macbeth may effectively fall to his lot, - For where's such an artist for "_Out_, damned _spot_!" - And we see, where those old annotators were blind,-- - For the issue of Duncan, why he _filed_ his mind. - Then let, &c. - - He does not play Lear (Forrest does--so does Booth), - For he thinks the "How sharper!" is wrong on the _tooth_! - His company's good, else why full stall and bench? - But, though he likes _Power_, he won't hear of _Wrench_! - Then let, &c. - - Through pieces--light farce--Fame our favorite then next tracks,-- - Single acts, single scenes, pungent touches, smart extracts! - With Colman's Review, too, he's coupled by some, - For he, like John Lump, gets a "guinea _by Gum_!" - Then let, &c. - - Then, with riches at will, oh! how liberal the lord - Of this mansion is found at the banquet and board! - Still, though wealth comes from east and from west, north and south, - Yet some _will_ say he lives but from mere _hand to mouth_! - Then let, &c. - - But cautious he should be,--though bright be the day,-- - For he knows, best of any, the works of decay; - And he ne'er should forget, in this splendid--this top age, - That when he _won't_ draw, he inclines then to _stoppage_. - Then let, &c. - - But long may he flourish--long, long here preside, - To give "harmless pleasure" to thousands beside! - Age is baffled by him,--we're still rich,--let it fret! - Oh! if hundreds are lost, we can have a _new set_! - Then let, &c. R. - - - - - KYAN'S PATENT--THE NINE MUSES,--AND THE DRY-ROT. - - "That which is most elaborate in nature is that which soonest - runs to decay." FARADAY. - -The Muses, to their infinite disgrace as useful members of society, -have for centuries been devoting their time to the sun, the moon, the -stars, flowers, lips, hair, love, "kisses, tears, and smiles;" in short, -to objects of mere enjoyment and beauty; greatly to the delight, it -must be confessed, of the young and the romantic, but tending to no -wise and useful purpose, and contributing to no profitable end. The -long luxurious indolence of these nine inestimable young ladies for so -many, many years, does appear to us to cast no slight shade upon their -characters; and Parnassus itself does not "hold its own" as a place of -any considerable repute, when the habits of its female frequenters are -taken into account. It is, indeed, high time that the Muses should get -into places of all work,--that they should earn their bread through -habits of honest industry and integrity, and not be idling about the -rose-trees, and wasting their powers on a sigh, an eyebrow, or a -trumpery star. The time for useful exertion is come; and the days of -dalliance, dreaming, and ethereal delight are passing away. Flora gives -way to Cocker, and Apollo is whipped off the top of his own Grecian -mount by the schoolmaster _abroad_. If the Muses do not now patronise -statistical reports, poor-law estimates, and fat-cattle meetings, they -will as surely "sink in their repute," ay, as surely as the name of -their firm is "Clio, Tighe, Thalia, Hemans, Euterpe, Landon, Polyhymnia, -Jenkinson, and Co." Imagination is all very well in its way; but does it -know how "things are in the City?" Is it in the direction--it certainly -ought to be--of the Great Northern Railway, or the Public Safety British -Patent Axletree Conveyance Company? Can imagination "set a leg or an -arm?" if not, why imagination may imagine itself carrying out its own -shutters in these enlightened times, and shutting up its own shop at -mid-day. - -We are happy to see, and to be able to say, that the Muses, like the -ladies in "the Invincibles," are marching with the times. They are -setting imagination to work on various well-sounding schemes for public -companies and joint-stockeries. Apollo is preparing a prospectus for -a New British Co-operative Joint Stock Music Society, into which, of -course, nothing foreign will be allowed to creep, unless it is altered -and dressed anew, and "wears a livery like its fellows." Melpomene is -to take the Queen's Theatre for a serious bazaar, and Thalia is to turn -Astley's into an agreeable chapel for the Jumpers. Urania goes to the -Astronomical Society as housekeeper, and Terpsichore is to be the lessee -of the dancing-rooms in Brewer-street, Golden-square, for gymnastic -purposes. Indeed, there will not be an idle body in the lovely firm; -and, in future, it is more than probable that vessels will be propelled -by means of airy verse, and balloons inflated by fancy, or elevated and -guided by the application of high-flown figures. There is no knowing or -foretelling to _what_ extent of usefulness poetry may be carried! - -It has fallen to our lot to be able to record one of the scientific -turns which poetry has taken. The Muses having of late years observed -that the palm-tree, the laurel, and all their sacred trees, had, -like the trees in all gardens open to the public, suffered much -from ill-usage,--premature symptoms of dry-rot having presented -themselves,--the Nine were all at sixes and sevens about the matter, -until they were recommended by a humane neighbour (as one of Morrison's -pill victims says in a grateful advertisement) to "try Kyan." "Try -Kyan!" exclaimed Calliope. "What, in the name of music, can Kyan be?" -On turning to the columns of the Morning Chronicle, however, Erato -(who could read) discovered the advertisement explanatory of the great -patent antidote to dry-rot in timber; and a deputation of three of -the daughters of Mnemosyne waited on Messrs. Faraday, Pine, Kyan, -Memel, Mills, Oakley, Terry, and Woodison, gentlemen interested in the -progress of this invaluable discovery,--and finally at the office in -Lime-street-square the Muses bargained for a steeping of their undying, -dying, decaying timber in the wondrous tank at Red Lion wharf, Poplar. -The process, notwithstanding the mischief done to the wood by the -poets of this scratching age, was most triumphantly successful; all -symptoms of decay, except where certain initials were carved, at once -disappeared, and the immortal plants began to put on "all their original -brightness!" Apollo gave an awful shriek of delight as he saw the wanton -cuttings and witherings disappear, and the grand leaves of beauty -starting into life afresh, at the inspiring touch of the immortal Kyan. -The Muses, with a few select friends, dined together afterwards, at the -Macclesfield Arms in the New-road, and a song upon Kyan's patent was -_impromptued_ on the occasion, and was very favourably received, when -the mortal waiters were out of the room. We are enabled to lay a copy -of it before our readers; and we are sure they will, with us, receive -with pleasure this proof of the interest which the Muses are taking in -matters of science and useful art. It is reported that the Nine are -about to become members of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful -Knowledge. - - - THE ANTI-DRY-ROT COMPANY'S SONG. - - _Air_--"Well, well, now--no more;--sure you've told me before." - _Love in a Village._ - - 1. - Have you heard,--have you heard,-- - Anti-dry-rot's the word? - Wood will never wear out, thanks to Kyan, to Kyan! - He dips in a tank, - Any rafter or plank,-- - And makes it immortal as Dian, as Dian! - If you steep but a thread, - It will hang by the head, - For ever, the largest old lion, old lion; - Or will cord up the trunk - Of an elephant drunk;-- - If you doubt it,--yourself go and try 'un, and try 'un. - - 2. - In the days that are gone, - As to timber and stone, - Decay was by no means a shy 'un, a shy 'un. - He bolted our floors, - And our vessels by scores, - And the thirsty old rot was a dry 'un, a dry 'un! - Oak crumbled beneath - The dry blast of its breath, - As soon as it e'er came a-nigh 'un, a-nigh 'un; - But gone is the day - Of that glutton Decay, - Since he can't eat his timber with _Kyan_, with _Kyan_! - - 3. - Say--now--what shall we steep - In the tank? just to keep.-- - Shakespeare sniffed our great secret, the sly 'un, the sly 'un! - Hamlet, Macbeth, and Lear, - Have been _Kyan'd_, my dear, - By Nature's immortal Paul Pry 'un, Paul Pry 'un. - Shall the plays of the day - Take a plunge from decay? - (There is no need for Tell, or for Ion, for Ion;) - I fear he could not - Soak away the dry-rot - From _some_ things:--But _all_ rests on Kyan, on Kyan. - - 4. - Put the lid on the tank,-- - Not a crack for a plank,-- - While I point out one thing, as I fly on, I fly on, - Which really must not - Have a dip 'gainst dry-rot,-- - Stuff with cotton the ears of my Kyan, my Kyan. - In a whisper I speak, - (But 'twill rain for a week,-- - Or as long as St. Swithin will cry on, will cry on,--) - The moment I make - Your conviction awake - That _Vauxhall_ wants no plunge 'gainst the dry 'un, the dry 'un. - - 5. - Do not dip many books - In our anti-rot nooks; - Keep out novels, and all Sense cries Fie on! cries Fie on! - Though, since Wood turns sublime - In its strife against time, - Most heads that we know, will try Kyan, try Kyan. - Only think what great good - 'Twould do Alder_men_ Wood, - (Elected for life) if they'd try 'un, they'd try 'un;-- - Every word that I say - Is as true as the day, - And each hint you may safely rely on, rely on! - - 6. - Then, hurrah! come uncork! - This dry-rot is dry work; - Bring the bottle,--that one I've my eye on, my eye on; - My spirit I'd steep - In its rich _anti_-deep, - And linger for morn, like Orion, Orion! - 'Gad the secret is out, - We've talk'd so much about; - My dog's on the scent,--oh! then hie on, then hie on! - 'Tis the _bottle_, I feel, - Makes immortal mere deal, - And wine's the _solution of Kyan_, of Kyan! R. - - - - - THE ORIGINAL OF "NOT A DRUM WAS HEARD." - - SCRAP, No. III. _Water-grass-hill._ - -When _single-speech_ Hamilton made in the Irish Commons that _one_ -memorable hit, and persevered ever after in obdurate taciturnity, -folks began very justly to suspect that all was not right; in fact, -that the solitary egg on which he thus sat, plumed in all the glory of -incubation, had been laid by another. The Rev. Mr. Wolfe is _supposed_ -to be the author of a single poem, unparalleled in the English language -for all the qualities of a true lyric, breathing the purest spirit -of the antique, and setting criticism completely at defiance. I say -_supposed_, for the gentlemen himself never claimed its authorship -during his short and unobtrusive lifetime. He who could write the -"Funeral of Sir John Moore," must have eclipsed all the lyric poets of -this latter age by the fervour and brilliancy of his powers. Do the -other writings of Mr. Wolfe bear any trace of inspiration? None. - -I fear we must look elsewhere for the origin of those beautiful lines; -and I think I can put the public on the right scent. In 1749, Colonel de -Beaumanoir, a native of Britanny, having rained a regiment in his own -neighbourhood, went out with it to India, in that unfortunate expedition -commanded by Lally-Tolendal, the failure of which eventual lost to -the French their possessions in Hindostan. The colonel was killed in -defending, against the forces of Coote, PONDICHERRY, the last stronghold -of the French in that hemisphere. He was buried that night on the north -bastion of the fortress by a few faithful followers, and the next day -the fleet sailed with the remainder of the garrison for Europe. In the -appendix to the "Memoirs of LALLY-TOLENDAL," by his Son, the following -lines occur, which bear some resemblance to those attributed to Wolfe. -Perhaps Wolf Tone may have communicated them to his relative the -clergyman on his return from France. _Fides sit penès lectorem._ - - P. PROUT. - - - THE ORIGINAL OF "NOT A DRUM WAS HEARD." - - I. - Ni le son du tambour ... ni la marche funebre ... - Ni le feu des soldats ... ne marqua son depart.-- - Mais du BRAVE, à la hâte, à travers les tenebres, - Mornes ... nous portâmes le cadavre au rempart! - - II. - De Minuit c'était l'heure, et solitaire et sombre-- - La lune à peine offrait un debile rayon; - La lanterne luisait peniblement dans l'ombre, - Quand de la bayonette on creusa le gazon. - - III. - D'inutile cercueil ni de drap funeraire - Nous ne daignâmes point entourer le HEROS; - Il gisait dans les plis du manteau militaire - Comme un guerrier qui dort son heure de repos. - - IV. - La prière qu'on fit fut de courte durée: - Nul ne parla de deuil, bien que le coeur fut plein! - Mais on fixait du MORT la figure adorée ... - Mais avec amertume on songeait au demain. - - V. - Au demain! quand ici ou sa fosse s'apprête, - Ou son humide lit on dresse avec sanglots, - L'ennemi orgueilleux marchera sur sa tête, - Et nous, ses veterans, serons loin sur les flots! - - VI. - Ils terniront sa gloire ... un pourra le entendre - Nommer l'illustre MORT d'un ton amer ... ou fol;-- - Il les laissera dire.--Eh! qu'importe À SA CENDRE - Que la main d'un BRETON a confiée au sol? - - VII. - L'oeuvre durait encor, quand retentit la cloche - Au sommet du Befroi:--et le canon lointain - Tiré par intervalle, en annonçant l'approche, - Signalait la fierté de l'ennemi hautain. - - VIII. - Et dans sa fosse alors le mîmes lentement ... - Près du champ où sa gloire a été consommée: - Ne mimes à l'endroit pierre ni monument - Le laissant seul à seul avec sa Renommée! - - - - - A GOSSIP WITH SOME OLD ENGLISH POETS. - BY CHARLES OLLIER. - -All hail to the octo-syllabic measure! the most cheerful, buoyant, and -terse of all metres; at once familiar and refined, and fitted more than -any other to the narration of a gay and laughing tale. Lord Byron, who -indulged in it not a little, was pleased nevertheless to condemn it for -what he called its "fatal facility;" but we believe that is _facility_ -is more a matter for the enjoyment of the reader than for the execution -of the writer; since, in the latter respect, it seems to demand so much -of polish, point, and neatness, as to require, in its very absence of -all apparent effort, no little labour in him who would do its claims -full justice. Cowper, who was ambitious to excel in this pleasant -verse, declared that the "easy jingle" of Mat. Prior was inimitable; -but Prior, delightful as his octo-syllabic poetry undoubtedly is, has -many rivals,--not indeed among his contemporaries, but in poets who -preceded and followed him. Shakespeare, for example, in whose boundless -riches is found almost every variety of the Muse, has given us abundant -specimens of this verse in the prologues to each act of "Pericles, -Prince of Tyre," as spoken by the Ghost of old Gower, who, having, -in his _Confessio Amantis_, told the story afterwards dramatised by -Shakespeare, is evoked from his "ashes" to explain to the spectators the -progress of the incidents of the play. The following _notturno_ could -hardly have been as pleasantly conveyed in any other measure:-- - - "Now sleep yslaked hath the rout; - No din but snores, the house about, - Made louder by the o'er-fed breast - Of this most pompous marriage feast. - The cat, with eyne of burning coal, - Now couches 'fore the mouse's hole; - And crickets sing at th' oven's mouth, - As the blither for their drouth. - Hymen hath brought the bride to bed." - -Ben Johnson, too, has revelled in this metre: its sweet cheerfulness -appears, for the time, to have drawn from his mind its austere and -sarcastic qualities, and to have lulled the violence of his wit. Old -Ben is, in short, never seen in so happy and amiable a light as when he -writes in the octo-syllabic. Here in a specimen:-- - - "Some act of Love bound to rehearse, - I thought to bind him in my verse; - Which, when he felt, 'Away!' quoth he, - 'Can poets hope to fetter me? - It is enough they once did get - Mars and my mother in their net; - I wear not these my wings in vain. - With which he fled me; and again - Into my rhymes could ne'er be got - By any art. Then wonder not - That, since, my numbers are so cold, - When Love is fled, and I grow old." - -But what shall we say of Herrick, the English Anacreon, who fondled this -measure with such graceful dalliance? We cannot resist the temptation -of making an extract, and of _italicising_ a line or two, that we may -enjoy them with the reader:-- - - "A sweet disorder in the dresse - Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse; - A lawne about the shoulders thrown - _Into a fine distraction_; - An erring lace, which here and there - Enthralls the crimson stomacher; - A cuffe neglectfull, and thereby - Ribbands to flow confusedly; - _A winning wave, deserving note, - In the tempestuous petticote_; - A carelesse shooe-string, in whose tye - _I see a wild civility_; - Doe more bewitch me, than when art - Is too precise in every part." - -Mark the ease, the play, the _curiosa felicitas_, of this exquisite -little poem. Could it have been as happy in any other measure? - -The stern and unflinching patriot, Andrew Marvell, evidently takes -delight in the piquant grace of the octo-syllabic. Here is a passage -from his poem addressed to the Lord Fairfax, descriptive of the grounds -about that nobleman's house, in Yorkshire, called Nun-Appleton. Speaking -of the meadows, Marvell says:-- - - "No scene, that turns with engines strange, - Does oftener than these meadows change; - For when the sun the grass hath vex'd, - The tawny mowers enter next; - _Who seem like Israelites to be, - Walking on foot through a green sea_. - To them the grassy deeps divide, - And crowd a lane to either side. - With whistling scythe, and elbow strong, - _These massacre the grass along_. - - * * * * * - - The mower now commands the field; - In whose new traverse seemeth wrought - A camp of battle newly fought; - Where, as the meads with hay, the plain - Lies quilted o'er with bodies slain: - The women that with forks it fling, - Do represent the pillaging. - And now the careless victors play, - Dancing the triumphs of the hay. - When, after this, 'tis piled in cocks, - _Like a calm sea it shews the rocks_." - -The poems of Thomas Randolph, a writer of the seventeenth century, are -not so well known as they deserve to be. A specimen, therefore, of his -treatment of our favourite verse, will be some such a novelty as is -afforded by the revival of an obsolete fashion. He is addressing his -mistress while walking through a grove:-- - - "See Zephyrus through the leaves doth stray, - And has free liberty to play, - And braid thy locks. And shall I find - Less favour than a saucy wind? - Now let me sit and fix my eyes - On thee that art my paradise. - Thou art my all: the spring remains - In the fair violets of thy veins; - And that it is a summer's day, - Ripe cherries in thy lips display; - And when for autumn I would seek, - 'Tis in the apples of thy cheek; - But that which only moves my smart, - Is to see winter in thy heart." - -Of Butler it is needless to speak; everybody knows Hudibras. He is, -indeed, a glorious champion of the octo-syllabic verse. The glories, -too, of Prior,--the witty, the humorous, the _riant_ Prior,--are too -well known to require illustration. We say "too well known," for -Matthew, alas! had a sovereign contempt for _les bienséances_, and only, -now-a-days, finds his "way into families" because time and a classic -reputation have, in a manner, sanctified his extravagancies. But what -must have been the irresistible charm of his octo-syllabic measure, to -have seduced the morbid methodist, Cowper, into a warm eulogy of the -very metre in which his licentious freaks were perpetuated? - -As in Prior's case, Gay chose this particular verse to sin in. We do -not allude to his "Fables," but to his "Tales," which are dexterous and -pleasant enough, but wrong. The reader must not expect specimens. From -the next writer, however, to whom we shall allude, namely, Green, author -of "The Spleen," we shall be happy to transfer to our pages an extract. -Green was a member of the Society of Friends; but, whatever might have -been the formality of the outward man, never did a more genial heart -beat in the bosom of a human creature than in that of Quaker Green. -He was a philosopher, a humanist, a wit, a poet; and we do not like -him the less because he took especial delight in the sly humour of the -eight-syllable rhyme. He found in this measure a pleasant compromise -between a staid cheerfulness and a roystering joke, and he dandled it to -his heart's content in the true spirit of Quaker love-making; that is -to say, with a certain significance of purpose qualified by sobriety of -pretence. The friendly triumph of the flesh over the spirit was never -more cordially manifested; but all is done "with conscience and tender -heart." The poem called "The Spleen" would have been a luxury from any -writer. From Green, in his drab coat, it has a double relish. The fire -that burned under the broad-brimmed hat of this wise and gentle lover -of humanity, was too strong for the stuff of which his physical man was -composed; it - - "O'er informed his tenement of clay;" - -and our poetical Quaker died before he had reached his middle age. -His principal poem is distinguished by the elastic play of the -versification, by manly good sense, and flashing wit. Poor Green! it was -especially necessary for him, with his delicate organization, to study -how he might best exorcise the spleen, or, as we should now call it, -hypochondria,--a task which we, in our Miscellany, have taken under our -especial care. The following extract from the exordium to the Quaker's -poem will afford a good taste of his quality. We have italicised some -lines that appeared to be peculiarly felicitous:-- - - "Hunting I reckon very good - To brace the nerves, and stir the blood; - But after no field-honours itch, - Atchiev'd by leaping hedge and ditch. - _While Spleen lies soft relax'd in bed, - Or o'er coal-fires inclines the head_, - Hygeia's sons with hound and horn, - And jovial cry, awake the Morn: - These see her from her dusky plight, - Smear'd by th' embraces of the Night, - With roral wash redeem her face, - And prove herself of Titan's race, - _And, mounting in loose robes the skies, - Shed light and fragrance as she flies_. - Then horse and hound fierce joy display, - Exulting at the 'Hark-away!' - And in pursuit o'er tainted ground - From lungs robust field-notes resound. - Then, as St. George the dragon slew, - _Spleen pierc'd, trod down, and dying view_, - While all the spirits are on wing, - And woods, and hills, and valleys ring. - To cure the mind's wrong bias, Spleen, - Some recommend the bowling-green; - Some, hilly walks; all, exercise; - _Fling but a stone, the giant dies_; - Laugh, and be well. Monkeys have been - Extreme good doctors for the Spleen; - And kitten, if the humour hit, - Has harlequin'd away the fit." - -We may take an opportunity of resuming this subject. - - - - - THE RISING PERIODICAL; - BEING MR. VERDANT'S ACCOUNT OF HIS LAST AERIAL VOYAGE, - - _edited_ BY THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY. - - Without apology, I'll trace - Our airy flight across the sea, - Because at once we raised _ourselves_ - And public curiosity. - - And well might those who saw us off, - Our many perils long discuss, - Because, ere we were out of sight, - 'Twas certainly "all up with us!" - - There might be danger, sure enough, - On high, from thirst and hunger blending; - But men are told they should _bear up_ - Against the danger that's impending. - - So we bore up into the clouds, - Of creature comforts ample store; - And really coffee ne'er was known - To rise so speedily before. - - Our tongues, though salted, never halted; - Our game fresh-kill'd was very high; - And, though all nicely truss'd and roasted, - We saw our fowls and turkeys fly! - - Our solid food rose like a puff, - Hard biscuit seem'd a trifle, too; - And our champagne was so much up, - That e'en our empty bottles flew! - - Our spirits rose; in fact we were, - When not a dozen miles from Dover, - Quite in a _state of elevation_, - Indisputably "_half seas over_." - - How like conspirators were we, - So snug we kept our hour of rising; - And when our movement once was made, - All London cried, "Oh! how surprising!" - - If, when we soar'd above the great, - They trembled, 'twas without occasion: - Our thoughts were turned to France; in truth - We meditated an invasion! - - But over earth and over sea - We went without one hostile notion; - Our war on earth, a civil war; - The Channel,--our Pacific Ocean. - - When passing over Chatham town - We were just finishing a chicken; - A soldier and a maiden fair - I saw whilst I the bones was picking. - - I threw a drumstick at the youth, - Who all around the culprit sought; - And whilst the maiden laughed aloud, - I struck her with a merry thought. - - In darkness we the Channel cross'd, - And left our fragile car to chance; - And, scorning customary rules, - Without a passport enter'd France! - - But on we went, and our descent - Bewilder'd many a German gaper; - Until, to prove from whence we came, - We show'd the last day's London paper! - - We're told no good that is substantial - Results from all we nobly dare; - What then?--We took a clever MASON - To build us castles in the air. - - We're not like certain _rising men_, - Puff'd up with vain presumptuous thoughts; - We nothing boast of what we've done, - And deem ourselves mere airy-noughts! - T. H. B - - - - - AN ITALIAN ANECDOTE. - -_Naples, July 1._--This was one of the hottest days of the season. I -had long contemplated Fort St. Elmo, high on the crest of the mountain -which overhung Naples, as one of the objects which I was bound to visit. -I knew and felt that, like Vesuvius, it was one of those sights which -exercise a tyranny over every traveller, not to be evaded, and which -he must see, or hazard his peace of mind for ever; but never yet had I -been able to overcome my natural indolence, and to proceed to explore -it. On this morning I rose with an alacrity and love of enterprise quite -unusual to me, and I at once determined to ascend to St. Elmo to see the -magnificent Certosini Convent, with the Chiesa di S. Martino, to enjoy -the extensive view which this summit presents, and to hear the ascending -buzz of the city and its numerous inhabitants. I immediately sent to -T----, to accompany me; and, after eating a hearty breakfast, we took -our departure. - -Who that has ever mounted the steep, rugged, and never-ending ascent, -will not pity the middle-aged gentleman of indolent habits, seeing -sights for conscience sake, of no mean size, (for such I am,) as he -struggled with the difficulties before him, looking up in dismay at the -castle, inflating and distending his lungs with an action to which they -had long been unaccustomed, until his face rivalled the sun in glowing -crimson? - -At length we reached our object. We saw the sights,--admired the beauty -of the church, and its beautiful pictures by Spagnoletto,--exclaimed -with rapture at the view, and heard the buzz. With my conscience -satisfied, and with my critical observations on all we had seen, ready -to be made upon the first favourable opportunity, I lost no time in -descending to whence we came. By this time it was past meridian. The -descent was very trying upon legs of forty-five years' standing; and the -tremulous motion which it produced upon the muscles, only increased the -longing I felt, to find myself once more extended full length on my sofa -at the Vittoria. - -I had taken off my coat, and, lazzaroni-like, had thrown it over my -shoulder; my neckcloth was thrust into my waistcoat pocket, and my neck -was bare. I carried my hat on my stick, using it by way of parasol; -and, thus accoutred, I determined to make one desperate effort to brave -the heat of the sun, that was baking the pavement of Santa Lucia, and -emitting a glare that acted like a burning-glass upon my eyeballs. As -we walked through this ordeal, we passed close to an assembly of young -lazzaronis, basking in the sun, near to a stall; there they lay, in the -midst of fish-bones, orange-peels, and decayed melons. We evidently -excited their mirth; and I, in particular, felt myself privileged to be -laughed at,--for what could be more grotesque than my appearance? One of -the boys was standing. We had scarcely turned our backs upon them, when -I received a blow on the head from a melon-rind;--I turned about, and -immediately the whole gang ran off laughing. I would have followed; but, -in truth, was too tired. I could scarcely move but at a slow walk. The -boys stopped, and looked at us. At length, making a virtue of necessity, -I called out to the boy who had thrown the melon-rind, to come to me--he -hesitated; I called again--he was evidently puzzled, and suspicious of -my intention; I then showed him a carline. "Come here," said I, "take -this." "In the name of goodness!" exclaimed T----, "what are you about?" -"Never mind," said I; "stop and see." The boy at length took courage, -and came to me. "Here," said I, "_bravo! bravissimo! avete fatto bene!_ -take this." Upon which, in surprise, the boy, taking the piece of money -out of my hand, ran off in the greatest exultation, showing it to his -little friends as a prize fallen down from heaven. - -"Now do tell me," said T----, "what demon of madness can have possessed -you? You ought to have broken every bone in that young rascal's skin, -instead of feeing him for insulting us." "So I would," said I, "if I -could; but to catch him is impossible. By feeing him for his insolence, -he will probably throw another piece of melon at the first Englishman -he sees, who will, no doubt, give him the beating which I cannot." -T---- laughed heartily at the ingenious turn which my indolence had -taken--administering a beating _à ricochet_, as he called it; and, -having reached my room, we laughed over our adventure, and speculated -upon the beating the youngster would get. - -And, true enough, the next day, as we were seated on one of the benches -of the Villa Reale, we heard a sort of hue and cry on the Chiaja, and -shortly after, saw our carroty and irascible friend W---- appear, -foaming with rage, streaming from every pore, owing to some recent -exertion, and exploding with bursts of execration. He came straight to -us.--"Who ever knew such an infernal country as this?" said he, "D--them -all for a beggarly set of villains. Did you ever see the like? I gave -it him well, however,--that's some comfort. The young rascal won't -forget me, for some time, I'll warrant you!" T---- and I smiled at each -other in anticipation of the reason, which only made him more furious. -"Here," said he, "was I walking quietly along, when a young rascal of -a lazzaroni thought fit to shy half a water-melon at my head;--you may -laugh; but it was no laughing matter to me, nor to him either, for I -have half killed the young urchin; and then, forsooth, I must have half -the town of Naples upon me, backed by all their carrion of old women." -We allowed his rage to expend itself, and said nothing, for fear of -being implicated in his wrath, inasmuch as I was the origin of his -disaster; but, truly, indolence was never so completely justified, as on -this occasion. - J. M. - - [Illustration: Oliver asking for more.] - - - - - OUR SONG OF THE MONTH. - - No. II. February, 1837. - - OUR VALENTINE. - - With a frozen old saint, our Miscellany quaint - We headed last month in a jolly, gay song; - It was fit that a priest should say grace to the feast - Before any layman should stick in a prong. - But now we've no need for the dark-flowing weed - Of a padre to hallow our frolics so fine; - 'Tis a bishop, this moon, is to set us in tune-- - And his name you know, maidens, is Saint Valentine. - - So, love to our ladies from Lapland to Cadiz, - From the Tropics to Poles, (be the same more or less)-- - But we know that in print they will ne'er take the hint - Half as soft and as sweet as in perfumed _MS._ - And we wish that we knew any fair one as true - As to think all we're writing superb and divine, - At her feet should we lay--not a word about pay-- - Our work as her tribute on Saint Valentine. - - Yet why but to one should our homage be done? - We pay it to all whose smiles lighten out art: - To Edgeworth, to Morgan, to Baillie's deep organ, - To Hall's Irish pathos, to Norton's soft heart, - To the Countess so rare, to Costello the fair, - To Miss L. E. L., to high-born Emmeline; - But a truce to more names--Take this, darling dames, - Sweet friends of the pen, as our first Valentine. - W. M. - - - - - OLIVER TWIST, - OR, THE PARISH BOY'S PROGRESS. - - BY BOZ. - - ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. - - - CHAPTER THE FIRST - - TREATS OF THE PLACE WHERE OLIVER TWIST WAS BORN, AND OF THE - CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING HIS BIRTH. - -Among other public buildings in the town of Mudfog, it boasts of one -which is common to most towns great or small, to wit, a workhouse; -and in this workhouse there was born on a day and date which I need -not trouble myself to repeat, inasmuch as it can be of no possible -consequence to the reader, in this stage of the business at all events, -the item of mortality whose name is prefixed to the head of this -chapter. For a long time after he was ushered into this world of sorrow -and trouble, by the parish surgeon, it remained a matter of considerable -doubt whether the child would survive to bear any name at all; in which -case it is somewhat more than probable that these memoirs would never -have appeared, or, if they had, being comprised within a couple of -pages, they would have possessed the inestimable merit of being the -most concise and faithful specimen of biography extant in the literature -of any age or country. Although I am not disposed to maintain that the -being born in a workhouse is in itself the most fortunate and enviable -circumstance that can possibly befal a human being, I do mean to say -that in this particular instance it was the best thing for Oliver Twist -that could by possibility have occurred. The fact is, that there was -considerable difficulty in inducing Oliver to take upon himself the -office of respiration,--a troublesome practice, but one which custom -has rendered necessary to our easy existence,--and for some time he lay -gasping on a little flock mattress, rather unequally poised between -this world and the next, the balance being decidedly in favour of the -latter. Now, if during this brief period Oliver had been surrounded by -careful grandmothers, anxious aunts, experienced nurses, and doctors -of profound wisdom, he would most inevitably and indubitably have been -killed in no time. There being nobody by, however, but a pauper old -woman, who was rendered rather misty by an unwonted allowance of beer, -and a parish surgeon who did such matters by contract, Oliver and nature -fought out the point between them. The result was, that, after a few -struggles, Oliver breathed, sneezed, and proceeded to advertise to the -inmates of the workhouse the fact of a new burden having been imposed -upon the parish, by setting up as loud a cry as could reasonably have -been expected from a male infant who had not been possessed of that very -useful appendage, a voice, for a much longer space of time than three -minutes and a quarter. - -As Oliver gave this first testimony of the free and proper action of his -lungs, the patchwork coverlet, which was carelessly flung over the iron -bedstead, rustled; the pale face of a young female was raised feebly -from the pillow; and a faint voice imperfectly articulated the words -"Let me see the child, and die." - -The surgeon had been sitting with his face turned towards the fire, -giving the palms of his hands a warm, and a rub, alternately; but as the -young woman spoke, he rose, and, advancing to the bed's head, said with -more kindness than might have been expected of him-- - -"Oh, you must not talk about dying, yet." - -"Lor bless her dear heart, no!" interposed the nurse, hastily depositing -in her pocket a green glass bottle, the contents of which she had been -tasting in a corner with evident satisfaction. "Lor bless her dear -heart, when she has lived as long as I have, sir, and had thirteen -children of her own, and all on 'em dead except two, and them in the -wurkus with me, she'll know better than to take on in that way, bless -her dear heart! Think what it is to be a mother, there's a dear young -lamb, do." - -Apparently this consolatory perspective of a mother's prospects failed -in producing its due effect. The patient shook her head, and stretched -out her hand towards the child. - -The surgeon deposited it in her arms. She imprinted her cold white lips -passionately on its forehead, passed her hands over her face, gazed -wildly round, shuddered, fell back--and died. They chafed her breast, -hands, and temples; but the blood had frozen for ever. They talked of -hope and comfort. They had been strangers too long. - -"It's all over, Mrs. Thingummy," said the surgeon, at last. - -"Ah, poor dear; so it is!" said the nurse, picking up the cork of the -green bottle which had fallen out on the pillow as she stooped to take -up the child. "Poor dear!" - -"You needn't mind sending up to me, if the child cries, nurse," said -the surgeon, putting on his gloves with great deliberation. "It's very -likely it _will_ be troublesome. Give it a little gruel if it is." He -put on his hat, and, pausing by the bedside on his way to the door, -added, "She was a good-looking girl too; where did she come from?" - -"She was brought here last night," replied the old woman, "by the -overseer's order. She was found lying in the street;--she had walked -some distance, for her shoes were worn to pieces; but where she came -from, or where she was going to, nobody knows." - -The surgeon leant over the body, and raised the left hand. "The old -story," he said, shaking his head: "no wedding-ring, I see. Ah! good -night." - -The medical gentleman walked away to dinner; and the nurse, having once -more applied herself to the green bottle, sat down on a low chair before -the fire, and proceeded to dress the infant. - -And what an excellent example of the power of dress young Oliver Twist -was! Wrapped in the blanket which had hitherto formed his only covering, -he might have been the child of a nobleman or a beggar;--it would have -been hard for the haughtiest stranger to have fixed his station in -society. But now he was enveloped in the old calico robes, that had -grown yellow in the same service; he was badged and ticketed, and fell -into his place at once--a parish child--the orphan of a workhouse--the -humble, half-starved drudge--to be cuffed and buffeted through the -world, despised by all, and pitied by none. - -Oliver cried lustily. If he could have known that he was an orphan, left -to the tender mercies of churchwardens and overseers, perhaps he would -have cried the louder. - - -CHAPTER THE SECOND - -TREATS OF OLIVER TWIST'S GROWTH, EDUCATION, AND BOARD. - -For the next eight or ten months, Oliver was the victim of a systematic -course of treachery and deception--he was brought up by hand. The hungry -and destitute situation of the infant orphan was duly reported by the -workhouse authorities to the parish authorities. The parish authorities -inquired with dignity of the workhouse authorities, whether there -was no female then domiciled in "the house" who was in a situation to -impart to Oliver Twist the consolation and nourishment of which he stood -in need. The workhouse authorities replied with humility that there -was not. Upon this, the parish authorities magnanimously and humanely -resolved, that Oliver should be "farmed," or, in other words, that -he should be despatched to a branch-workhouse some three miles off, -where twenty or thirty other juvenile offenders against the poor-laws -rolled about the floor all day, without the inconvenience of too much -food, or too much clothing, under the parental superintendence of an -elderly female who received the culprits at and for the consideration -of sevenpence-halfpenny per small head per week. Sevenpence-halfpenny's -worth per week is a good round diet for a child; a great deal may be -got for sevenpence-halfpenny--quite enough to overload its stomach, and -make it uncomfortable. The elderly female was a woman of wisdom and -experience; she knew what was good for children, and she had a very -accurate perception of what was good for herself. So, she appropriated -the greater part of the weekly stipend to her own use, and consigned -the rising parochial generation to even a shorter allowance than was -originally provided for them; thereby finding in the lowest depth a -deeper still, and proving herself a very great experimental philosopher. - -Everybody knows the story of another experimental philosopher, who had -a great theory about a horse being able to live without eating, and who -demonstrated it so well, that he got his own horse down to a straw a -day, and would most unquestionably have rendered him a very spirited -and rampacious animal upon nothing at all, if he hadn't died, just -four-and-twenty hours before he was to have had his first comfortable -bait of air. Unfortunately for the experimental philosophy of the female -to whose protecting care Oliver Twist was delivered over, a similar -result usually attended the operation of _her_ system; for just at -the very moment when a child had contrived to exist upon the smallest -possible portion of the weakest possible food, it did perversely happen -in eight and a half cases out of ten, either that it sickened from -want and cold, or fell into the fire from neglect, or got smothered by -accident; in any one of which cases, the miserable little being was -usually summoned into another world, and there gathered to the fathers -which it had never known in this. - -Occasionally, when there was some more than usually interesting inquest -upon a parish child who had been overlooked in turning up a bedstead, -or inadvertently scalded to death when there happened to be a washing, -(though the latter accident was very scarce,--anything approaching to -a washing being of rare occurrence in the farm,) the jury would take -it into their heads to ask troublesome questions, or the parishioners -would rebelliously affix their signatures to a remonstrance: but these -impertinencies were speedily checked by the evidence of the surgeon, and -the testimony of the beadle; the former of whom had always opened the -body, and found nothing inside (which was very probable indeed), and the -latter of whom invariably swore whatever the parish wanted, which was -very self-devotional. Besides, the board made periodical pilgrimages to -the farm, and always sent the beadle the day before, to say they were -coming. The children were neat and clean to behold, when _they_ went; -and what more would the people have? - -It cannot be expected that this system of farming would produce any very -extraordinary or luxuriant crop. Oliver Twist's eighth birth-day found -him a pale, thin child, somewhat diminutive in stature, and decidedly -small in circumference. But nature or inheritance had implanted a good -sturdy spirit in Oliver's breast: it had had plenty of room to expand, -thanks to the spare diet of the establishment; and perhaps to this -circumstance may be attributed his having any eighth birth-day at all. -Be this as it may, however, it _was_ his eighth birth-day; and he was -keeping it in the coal-cellar with a select party of two other young -gentlemen, who, after participating with him in a sound threshing, had -been locked up therein, for atrociously presuming to be hungry, when -Mrs. Mann, the good lady of the house, was unexpectedly startled by the -apparition of Mr. Bumble the beadle, striving to undo the wicket of the -garden-gate. - -"Goodness gracious! is that you, Mr. Bumble, sir?" said Mrs. Mann, -thrusting her head out of the window in well-affected ecstasies of -joy. "(Susan, take Oliver and them two brats up stairs, and wash 'em -directly.)--My heart alive! Mr. Bumble, how glad I am to see you, -sure-ly!" - -Now Mr. Bumble was a fat man, and a choleric one; so, instead of -responding to this open-hearted salutation in a kindred spirit, he gave -the little wicket a tremendous shake, and then bestowed upon it a kick, -which could have emanated from no leg but a beadle's. - -"Lor, only think," said Mrs. Mann, running out,--for the three boys had -been removed by this time,--"only think of that! That I should have -forgotten that the gate was bolted on the inside, on account of them -dear children! Walk in, sir; walk in, pray, Mr. Bumble; do, sir." - -Although this invitation was accompanied with a curtsey that might have -softened the heart of a churchwarden, it by no means mollified the -beadle. - -"Do you think this respectful or proper conduct, Mrs. Mann," inquired -Mr. Bumble, grasping his cane,--"to keep the parish officers a-waiting -at your garden-gate, when they come here upon porochial business -connected with the porochial orphans? Are you aware, Mrs. Mann, that you -are, as I may say, a porochial delegate, and a stipendiary?" - -"I'm sure, Mr. Bumble, that I was only a-telling one or two of the dear -children as is so fond of you, that it was you a-coming," replied Mrs. -Mann with great humility. - -Mr. Bumble had a great idea of his oratorical powers and his importance. -He had displayed the one, and vindicated the other. He relaxed. - -"Well, well, Mrs. Mann," he replied in a calmer tone; "it may be as you -say; it may be. Lead the way in, Mrs. Mann; for I come on business, and -have got something to say." - -Mrs. Mann ushered the beadle into a small parlour with a brick floor, -placed a seat for him, and officiously deposited his cocked hat and -cane on the table before him. Mr. Bumble wiped from his forehead the -perspiration which his walk had engendered, glanced complacently at the -cocked hat, and smiled. Yes, he smiled: beadles are but men, and Mr. -Bumble smiled. - -"Now don't you be offended at what I'm a-going to say," observed Mrs. -Mann with captivating sweetness. "You've had a long walk, you know, or -I wouldn't mention it. Now will you take a little drop of something, -Mr. Bumble?" - -"Not a drop--not a drop," said Mr. Bumble, waving his right hand in a -dignified, but still placid manner. - -"I think you will," said Mrs. Mann, who had noticed the tone of the -refusal, and the gesture that had accompanied it. "Just a _leetle_ drop, -with a little cold water, and a lump of sugar." - -Mr. Bumble coughed. - -"Now, just a little drop," said Mrs. Mann persuasively. - -"What is it?" inquired the beadle. - -"Why it's what I'm obliged to keep a little of in the house, to put in -the blessed infants' Daffy when they ain't well, Mr. Bumble," replied -Mrs. Mann as she opened a corner cupboard, and took down a bottle and -glass. "It's gin." - -"Do you give the children Daffy, Mrs. Mann?" inquired Bumble, following -with his eyes the interesting process of mixing. - -"Ah, bless 'em, that I do, dear as it is," replied the nurse. "I -couldn't see 'em suffer before my very eyes, you know, sir." - -"No," said Mr. Bumble approvingly; "no, you could not. You are a humane -woman, Mrs. Mann."--(Here she set down the glass.)--"I shall take an -early opportunity of mentioning it to the board, Mrs. Mann."--(He drew -it towards him.)--"You feel as a mother, Mrs. Mann."--(He stirred -the gin and water.)--"I--I drink your health with cheerfulness, Mrs. -Mann;"--and he swallowed half of it. - -"And now about business," said the beadle, taking out a leathern -pocket-book. "The child that was half-baptised, Oliver Twist, is eight -years old to-day." - -"Bless him!" interposed Mrs. Mann, inflaming her left eye with the -corner of her apron. - -"And notwithstanding an offered reward of ten pound, which was -afterwards increased to twenty pound,--notwithstanding the most -superlative, and, I may say, supernat'ral exertions on the part of this -parish," said Bumble, "we have never been able to discover who is his -father, or what is his mother's settlement, name, or condition." - -Mrs. Mann raised her hands in astonishment; but added, after a moment's -reflection, "How comes he to have any name at all, then?" - -The beadle drew himself up with great pride, and said, "I inwented it." - -"You, Mr. Bumble!" - -"I, Mrs. Mann. We name our foundlin's in alphabetical order. The last -was a S,--Swubble: I named him. This was a T,--Twist: I named _him_. The -next one as comes will be Unwin, and the next Vilkins. I have got names -ready made to the end of the alphabet, and all the way through it again, -when we come to Z." - -"Why, you're quite a literary character, sir!" said Mrs. Mann. - -"Well, well," said the beadle, evidently gratified with the compliment; -"perhaps I may be; perhaps I may be, Mrs. Mann." He finished the gin and -water, and added, "Oliver being now too old to remain here, the Board -have determined to have him back into the house; and I have come out -myself to take him there,--so let me see him at once." - -"I'll fetch him directly," said Mrs. Mann, leaving the room for that -purpose. And Oliver having by this time had as much of the outer coat of -dirt which encrusted his face and hands removed as could be scrubbed off -in one washing, was led into the room by his benevolent protectress. - -"Make a bow to the gentleman, Oliver," said Mrs. Mann. - -Oliver made a bow, which was divided between the beadle on the chair and -the cocked hat on the table. - -"Will you go along with me, Oliver?" said Mr. Bumble in a majestic voice. - -Oliver was about to say that he would go along with anybody with great -readiness, when, glancing upwards, he caught sight of Mrs. Mann, who -had got behind the beadle's chair, and was shaking her fist at him with -a furious countenance. He took the hint at once, for the fist had been -too often impressed upon his body not to be deeply impressed upon his -recollection. - -"Will _she_ go with me?" inquired poor Oliver. - -"No, she can't," replied Mr. Bumble; "but she'll come and see you, -sometimes." - -This was no very great consolation to the child; but, young as he was, -he had sense enough to make a feint of feeling great regret at going -away. It was no very difficult matter for the boy to call the tears -into his eyes. Hunger and recent ill-usage are great assistants if you -want to cry; and Oliver cried very naturally indeed. Mrs. Mann gave -him a thousand embraces, and, what Oliver wanted a great deal more, a -piece of bread and butter, lest he should seem too hungry when he got -to the workhouse. With the slice of bread in his hand, and the little -brown-cloth parish cap upon his head, Oliver was then led away by Mr. -Bumble from the wretched home where one kind word or look had never -lighted the gloom of his infant years. And yet he burst into an agony of -childish grief as the cottage-gate closed after him. Wretched as were -the little companions in misery he was leaving behind, they were the -only friends he had ever known; and a sense of his loneliness in the -great wide world sank into the child's heart for the first time. - -Mr. Bumble walked on with long strides; and little Oliver, firmly -grasping his gold-laced cuff, trotted beside him, inquiring at the end -of every quarter of a mile whether they were "nearly there," to which -interrogations Mr. Bumble returned very brief and snappish replies; for -the temporary blandness which gin and water awakens in some bosoms had -by this time evaporated, and he was once again a beadle. - -Oliver had not been within the walls of the workhouse a quarter of an -hour, and had scarcely completed the demolition of a second slice of -bread, when Mr. Bumble, who had handed him over to the care of an old -woman, returned, and, telling him it was a board night, informed him -that the board had said he was to appear before it forthwith. - -Not having a very clearly defined notion of what a live board was, -Oliver was rather astounded by this intelligence, and was not quite -certain whether he ought to laugh or cry. He had no time to think about -the matter, however; for Mr. Bumble gave him a tap on the head with -his cane to wake him up, and another on the back to make him lively, -and, bidding him follow, conducted him into a large whitewashed room, -where eight or ten fat gentlemen were sitting round a table, at the top -of which, seated in an arm-chair rather higher than the rest, was a -particularly fat gentleman with a very round, red face. - -"Bow to the board," said Bumble. Oliver brushed away two or three tears -that were lingering in his eyes, and seeing no board but the table, -fortunately bowed to that. - -"What's your name, boy?" said the gentleman in the high chair. - -Oliver was frightened at the sight of so many gentlemen, which made him -tremble; and the beadle gave him another tap behind, which made him cry; -and these two causes made him answer in a very low and hesitating voice; -whereupon a gentleman in a white waistcoat said he was a fool, which was -a capital way of raising his spirits, and putting him quite at his ease. - -"Boy," said the gentleman in the high chair; "listen to me. You know -you're an orphan, I suppose?" - -"What's that, sir?" inquired poor Oliver. - -"The boy _is_ a fool--I thought he was," said the gentleman in the white -waistcoat, in a very decided tone. If one member of a class be blessed -with an intuitive perception of others of the same race, the gentleman -in the white waistcoat was unquestionably well qualified to pronounce an -opinion on the matter. - -"Hush!" said the gentleman who had spoken first. "You know you've got no -father or mother, and that you are brought up by the parish, don't you?" - -"Yes, sir," replied Oliver, weeping bitterly. - -"What are you crying for?" inquired the gentleman in the white -waistcoat; and to be sure it was very extraordinary. What _could_ he be -crying for? - -"I hope you say your prayers every night," said another gentleman in a -gruff voice, "and pray for the people who feed you, and take care of -you, like a Christian." - -"Yes, sir," stammered the boy. The gentleman who spoke last was -unconsciously right. It would have been _very_ like a Christian, and a -marvellously good Christian, too, if Oliver had prayed for the people -who fed and took care of _him_. But he hadn't, because nobody had taught -him. - -"Well, you have come here to be educated, and taught a useful trade," -said the red-faced gentleman in the high chair. - -"So you'll begin to pick oakum to-morrow morning at six o'clock," added -the surly one in the white waistcoat. - -For the combination of both these blessings in the one simple process of -picking oakum, Oliver bowed low by the direction of the beadle, and was -then hurried away to a large ward, where, on a rough hard bed, he sobbed -himself to sleep. What a noble illustration of the tender laws of this -favoured country! they let the paupers go to sleep! - -Poor Oliver! He little thought, as he lay sleeping in happy -unconsciousness of all around him, that the board had that very day -arrived at a decision which would exercise the most material influence -over all his future fortunes. But they had. And this was it:-- - -The members of this board were very sage, deep, philosophical men; and -when they came to turn their attention to the workhouse, they found out -at once, what ordinary folks would never have discovered;--the poor -people liked it! It was a regular place of public entertainment for the -poorer classes,--a tavern where there was nothing to pay,--a public -breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper, all the year round,--a brick and -mortar elysium where it was all play and no work. "Oho!" said the board, -looking very knowing; "we are the fellows to set this to rights; we'll -stop it all in no time." So they established the rule, that all poor -people should have the alternative (for they would compel nobody, not -they,) of being starved by a gradual process in the house, or by a quick -one out of it. With this view, they contracted with the water-works to -lay on an unlimited supply of water, and with a corn-factor to supply -periodically small quantities of oatmeal; and issued three meals -of thin gruel a-day, with an onion twice a week, and half a roll on -Sundays. They made a great many other wise and humane regulations having -reference to the ladies, which it is not necessary to repeat: kindly -undertook to divorce poor married people, in consequence of the great -expense of a suit in Doctors' Commons; and, instead of compelling a man -to support his family as they had theretofore done, took his family -away from him, and made him a bachelor! There is no telling how many -applicants for relief under these last two heads would not have started -up in all classes of society, if it had not been coupled with the -workhouse. But they were long-headed men, and they had provided for this -difficulty. The relief was inseparable from the workhouse and the gruel; -and that frightened people. - -For the first three months after Oliver Twist was removed, the system -was in full operation. It was rather expensive at first, in consequence -of the increase in the undertaker's bill, and the necessity of taking -in the clothes of all the paupers, which fluttered loosely on their -wasted, shrunken forms, after a week or two's gruel. But the number of -workhouse inmates got thin, as well as the paupers; and the board were -in ecstasies. - -The room in which the boys were fed, was a large, stone hall, with a -copper at one end, out of which the master, dressed in an apron for -the purpose, and assisted by one or two women, ladled the gruel at -meal-times; of which composition each boy had one porringer, and no -more,--except on festive occasions, and then he had two ounces and a -quarter of bread besides. The bowls never wanted washing--the boys -polished them with their spoons, till they shone again; and when they -had performed this operation (which never took very long, the spoons -being nearly as large as the bowls), they would sit staring at the -copper with such eager eyes as if they could devour the very bricks -of which it was composed; employing themselves meanwhile in sucking -their fingers most assiduously, with the view of catching up any -stray splashes of gruel that might have been cast thereon. Boys have -generally excellent appetites: Oliver Twist and his companions suffered -the tortures of slow starvation for three months; at last they got so -voracious and wild with hunger, that one boy, who was tall for his age, -and hadn't been used to that sort of thing, (for his father had kept a -small cook's shop,) hinted darkly to his companions, that unless he had -another basin of gruel _per diem_, he was afraid he should some night -eat the boy who slept next him, who happened to be a weakly youth of -tender age. He had a wild, hungry eye, and they implicitly believed him. -A council was held; lots were cast who should walk up to the master -after supper that evening, and ask for more; and it fell to Oliver Twist. - -The evening arrived: the boys took their places; the master in his -cook's uniform stationed himself at the copper; his pauper assistants -ranged themselves behind him; the gruel was served out, and a long grace -was said over the short commons. The gruel disappeared, and the boys -whispered each other and winked at Oliver, while his next neighbours -nudged him. Child as he was, he was desperate with hunger and reckless -with misery. He rose from the table, and advancing, basin and spoon in -hand, to the master, said, somewhat alarmed at his own temerity-- - -"Please, sir, I want some more." - -The master was a fat, healthy man, but he turned very pale. He gazed in -stupified astonishment on the small rebel for some seconds, and then -clung for support to the copper. The assistants were paralyzed with -wonder, and the boys with fear. - -"What!" said the master at length, in a faint voice. - -"Please, sir," replied Oliver, "I want some more." - -The master aimed a blow at Oliver's head with the ladle, pinioned him in -his arms, shrieked aloud for the beadle. - -The board were sitting in solemn conclave when Mr. Bumble rushed into -the room in great excitement, and addressing the gentleman in the high -chair, said,-- - -"Mr. Limbkins, I beg your pardon, sir;--Oliver Twist has asked for -more." There was a general start. Horror was depicted on every -countenance. - -"For _more_!" said Mr. Limbkins. "Compose yourself, Bumble, and answer -me distinctly. Do I understand that he asked for more, after he had -eaten the supper allotted by the dietary?" - -"He did, sir," replied Bumble. - -"That boy will be hung," said the gentleman in the white waistcoat; "I -know that boy will be hung." - -Nobody controverted the prophetic gentleman's opinion. An animated -discussion took place. Oliver was ordered into instant confinement; and -a bill was next morning pasted on the outside of the gate, offering a -reward of five pounds to anybody who would take Oliver Twist off the -hands of the perish: in other words, five pounds and Oliver Twist were -offered to any man or woman who wanted an apprentice to any trade, -business, or calling. - -"I never was more convinced of anything in my life," said the gentleman -in the white waistcoat, as he knocked at the gate and read the bill next -morning,--"I never was more convinced of anything in my life, than I am -that that boy will come to be hung." - -As I propose to show in the sequel whether the white-waistcoated -gentleman was right or not, I should perhaps mar the interest of this -narrative, (supposing it to possess any at all,) if I ventured to hint -just yet, whether the life of Oliver Twist will be a long or a short -piece of biography. - - - - - RICHIE BARTER; THE MAN WHO SHOULD, BUT DID NOT. - -Yes! the good Sir Toby Plum died; and the very statues in the Stock -Exchange were moved,--the very pillars of that sanctuary particularly -distinguished themselves by their violent agitation,--the old Lady in -Threadneedle Street refused to be comforted,--and the universal brow -of 'Change Alley was clouded with the profoundest grief. The dumb -animals of that region--the bears and bulls--prowled about in savage -woe, and "looked unutterable things," on the day that the remains of -Sir Toby Plum were gathered to his fathers. He had a running personal -account of seventy years and upwards with old Dame Nature, which is now -paid;--(the only one, it was maliciously said, he ever paid;)--and he -dies possessed--not he, but others--of ---- thousands, (we leave a blank -for the number, to be hereafter filled up,) or, what is quite as good, -the name of them. - -"What's in a name?" Ask that beautiful inconsolable creature, his -widow, who, at the age of twenty-three, finds she is once more mistress -of herself, and of her dear Sir Toby's worldly possessions besides. -As these were supposed to be infinite, can it be imagined that we -will attempt to set down in round numbers what is inconceivable, and, -consequently, without a name? But see:--there is a staid, solemn, -business-looking personage, just stept out of her boudoir,--Peter Smyrk, -the man of business, a kind of lurcher to the late Sir Toby. She is -at present too inconsolable to receive him. Perhaps he might inform -you--you perceive by his impatience and disappointment he is most -anxious to do so. She, poor creature! could not be supposed interested -in such details, who was only a few days ago on the very brink of the -grave--(for she accompanied the remains of the good Sir Toby to the -churchyard). - -It was about a fortnight after the death of good Sir Toby that his -disconsolate widow felt reconciled to her mourning and "the novelty of -her situation." Absorbed in thoughts about her own sweet person, and -busy with reflections--such as her mirror gave,--the important Peter -Smyrk was announced. The sweetest voice in the city welcomed Peter Smyrk. - -"Very happy to see you, madam; but still sincerely sorry----" - -"Pray, Mr. Smyrk, don't revive a subject so painful to me. Sir Toby -was a good man: I shall never--ne-ver forget----" And tears such us -angels--or widows--weep, coursed down her cheek. - -"I'm sure not, madam; and I must entreat you to believe how sincerely I -sympathise with you on your loss, and how very sorry I am to be----" - -"Ah! you are very--very good, Mr. Smyrk--very considerate; so was the -good Sir Toby. But these papers----" - -"--Will, I fear, madam, but create fresh sorrow. In fact----" - -"Very true, Mr. Smyrk; anything that reminds me of that good old man -causes my sorrows to flow afresh." - -"In truth, madam," said the sympathising man of business, "there _is_ -something in these papers to cause just and deserving regret,--but still -very little to remind you of him;--he has left you but 500_l._ All the -rest of his property goes to his nephew." - -"What! all?" exclaimed the relict of Sir Toby Plum. - -"All, madam;--everything." - -"Then I am the----" But the pillows of her ottoman only knew, as she -buried her face in them, the superlative degree of misery to which she -said she was consigned by the too prudent Sir Toby. - -It was a sweet, voluptuous moonlight night,--so fair, so sweet, so full -of that delicious languor that best accords with the human heart in its -softest hours, tinging the picturesque summits of chimney-tops as well -as towers, and bringing out into pleasing relief each particular brick -of the classic region of the Minories,--that Richie Barter, enveloped -in a double-milled dreadnought, stood before what _was_ the mansion of -the late Sir Toby Plum. Richie was the very personification of a man on -'Change,--busy, important, and imposing. He was head clerk in the house, -and having served the good Sir Toby till he could serve him no longer, -and having wound up the affairs of the firm, which seem disposed of, -in that neatly-tied parcel under his arm, he avoids the garish eye of -day, and calls by moonlight to transact a little business and condolence -together. Richie was a prudent man, frugal both of his purse and person, -and stood at the door of Sir Toby, elevated with the integrity of his -purpose, and the consciousness of four thousand good pounds his own -making. A few moments, and he was ushered into the prettiest of all -parlours, where, reposing on the most seductive of ottomans, reclined -the pale and disconsolate mistress of the mansion. By the softened -lustre of a solitary lamp, the prudent eye of Richie took a hasty glance -around him: everything bespoke comfort and elegance. He sat down, drew -his chair near the sofa, and laid the neatly-tied parcel at her feet. -Only one of these was visible, and was shrouded from the too curious -gaze of Richie in a little slipper; the other, with retiring delicacy, -was withdrawn within those precincts where the imagination of Richie -did not follow. The communings of Richie on the occasion were worthy of -him, and as he feasted his eyes on its fair and delicate proportions, he -calculated (for he was a man of calculation) by a rule of _proportions_, -that if one sweet foot gave such pleasure, what would two give? In -truth, Richie, after trying the question by every rule of proportion -that _Cocker_ or _Cupid_ could suggest, boldly asked himself what might -the lady give, who abounded in proportion; and, as a prudent man, he -thought at no remote period he might put that question. - -"Still inconsolable, madam?" said Richie Barter after a few prefatory -hems. "Surely you might yield to the soothing anxieties of your friends, -and be reconciled to the loss--good man that he was!" - -"Ah! Mr. Barter, such a loss!--so undeserved!--so unexpected!--and to be -left thus a prey to----" - -"We must all go in our turn, madam," interrupted the sententious Richie; -"and 'tis a consolation to his successors to know that his affairs -were in a most flourishing condition;--a net capital, madam, of forty -thousand pounds, after all demands. You will find the exact state of his -affairs in these papers." - -Lady Plum petulantly kicked the parcel off the sofa. - -"I hate business, Mr. Barter; and were forty times the sum" -(perceiving his ignorance of the testamentary disposition of -the property) "contained in them, I would trust to your skill -and integrity to wind up the matter." - -"These forty thousand at your command, madam," said Richie, "the bulk of -Sir Toby's property, if properly _husbanded_----" - -The mention of a sum which she knew she _had not_, coupled with the name -of husband, who she knew had not appreciated her merits, brought two -pearly drops into her eyes, which Richie would have given a quarter's -salary to be permitted to kiss off, and which vied in size and lustre -with those that trembled in her ears; but he did what was quite as -grateful to the widow,--he summoned a little moisture into his own. This -sympathetic display was not lost on the considerate lady. - -"'Forty times that sum'--were not these her words?" thought Richie -Barter, as, wending his way down Cheapside, he began to ponder on the -widow's words, "and would entrust it all to Richie Barter! Well! that -sum, and my own four thousand, would make a man of Richie Barter for -life." And, brimful of the gayest and happiest anticipations, he strode -on. - -"Please, sir, what o'clock is it?" asked a little boy of Richie, as he -stood staring at the clock of Bow Church; to which Richie, heedless of -time and space, answered, "Forty thousand;" and, equally regardless of -the shouts of laughter which the answer provoked, he walked on. - -Night after night the precise Richie stood before the mansion of the -late Sir Toby Plum, enwrapt in his dreadnought, and in thoughts equally -fearless. The same low, considerate, but somewhat confidential rap -admitted him; the same sweet little parlour and its fair occupant -received him; the same confidence was expressed in his integrity and -skill. Financial arrangements, discussed by _proportions_, he found -irresistibly conclusive; till, in the fulness of time,--according to -Richie's own account, three months _after sight_,--he became one of -the happiest of husbands, and forthwith began to make arrangements for -_husbanding_--now that he was qualified--their joint stock; and Richie -Barter was a happy man. Richie was also a cautious man; but how absurd -a thing is caution, particularly in affairs of the heart!--with which, -if they would prosper, the head must have nothing to do. In a short time -Richie began to discover that he might possibly have been a little too -precipitate in marriage; that pro_portions_, which gave forty thousand -pounds as a result of the most correct calculation, were not to be -relied upon; in short, that he might have looked before him;--and Richie -sighed profoundly as he exclaimed, "_I should--but did not!_" - -The moon that generally succeeds matrimony, and upon which all the -sweets of poetry, and prose, and the grocer's shop, have been expended -to give an adequate idea of its deliciousness,--thus "gilding refined -gold," and making a planet, supposed to be green cheese, the very -essence of honey,--that luminary had run its course, and found Richie -Barter one day in the dishabille becoming a Benedict, flung on a sofa, -with his dexter hand thrown across the back of it, lost in a reverie -as profound as his breeches-pocket, with something like a "pale cast -of thought" on a countenance once rubicund, and now rendered perfectly -cadaverous by a glance at a letter which he was crumpling in his fist. - -"How is this, Julia, dear? there must be some mistake," said the -agitated Richie to the most prudent of wives, as she entered the room. -"Only a paltry five hundred, when I thought forty thousand was in the -way!--Surely there must be a mistake in this!" - -"In matters of business, Mr. Barter,--you know I hate business,--there -_will_ be mistakes," quoth the lady; "business is my aversion;" and she -swept by the amazed Richie with all the dignity of a Siddons. "I married -you, Mr. Barter, to get rid of business and its degrading details;" and -she looked with no very equivocal air of contempt on the bulk of Richie -as he lay coiled on the sofa, crumpling the letter. - -"Mr. Smyrk," said a servant half opening the door. - -"Wish you ten thousand joys, Mrs. Barter," said Sir Toby's man of -business as he entered. "An excellent character,--a most prudent man, is -Mr. Barter." - -"Why not make it forty thousand joys, sir?" exclaimed Richie. - -"Very facetious, Mr. Barter; but this just reminds me of a little -business I came about,--a few debts of your good lady, which her -creditors are a little clamorous for, particularly since you've got the -reputation of having got forty thousand pounds with her." - -"Forty thousand devils!" roared the furious Richie. "Will the -_reputation_ of that sum pay one shilling of her debts?--tell me that." - -"Can't exactly say; but, as the friend of the late Sir Toby, I looked -in, in the family way. A little business of my own--a trifle over three -hundred pounds;--Mrs. Barter will tell you the value received." And the -prudent Mr. Smyrk presented his bill to that amount, and left Richie -glaring and grinning at this fresh demand. - -"This is beyond all endurance, Mrs. Barter," said Richie, as he flung -the bill on the ground. - -Mrs. B. deliberately took it up, and appeared for a moment absorbed -in thought. "I have it!--I have it!" at length she exclaimed, as the -bewildered Richie stood staring at her abstraction. - -"Well, Mrs. B.; and what have you--not forty thousand pounds?" - -"No--a thought," said she seriously. - -"A fiddle-stick!" cried Richie. - -"No such thing, love!" and the fascinating Mrs. B. slid her arm round -her helpmate's neck, and began to unfold her purpose. "You know," said -she, "how I was disappointed in my just expectations at the death of -Sir Toby. I had every reason to expect that the bulk of his property, -which goes to his nephew, would have been mine. That young man is as -yet unacquainted with the fact, and by the assistance of Smyrk, whom we -might get over, he might remain so, and for a period sufficiently long -for our purpose. Smyrk may manage that, and also to keep the world in -ignorance of the matter. At present we have the _reputation_ of being -the sole owners of forty thousand pounds." - -"Nonsense, Mrs. B.! What's in a name?" muttered Richie. - -"I'll tell you what's in it. There is, in the first place, the credit -derived from the reputation of that sum,--the splendour, the elegance, -the comfort, the world's good opinion, the world's----" - -"Laugh!" exclaimed Barter, with deriding bitterness, as he sneered at -the chimera of his helpmate. "I'm a ruined man! I'm a beggar!--a fool!" - -"You may be all three together, Mr. Barter, if you choose; but that -would be too extravagant. Let us first settle this trifle of Smyrk's, -whose bare whisper, you know, in the city, will settle the affair -for us; and with your present savings, love,--isn't it four thousand -pounds?--and the name of forty thousand pounds----" - -"What's in a name?" sighed the desponding Richie; but, brightening at -the prospect conjured up before him, he appeared to acquiesce, and the -bill of Peter Smyrk was instantly paid. Mrs. B's drafts on futurity, -and on Richie's four thousand pounds, began to be pretty considerable; -and all the _good debts_, which, as sleeping partner in the firm, she -brought with her, were paid. - -How often did he revert to his former unambitious and peaceful life when -freed from any attachments either of love or law,--when, with a clear -conscience, and a well-brushed coat, he sat perched on the high stool -at his desk in ---- Alley, where his horizon was bounded by cotton-bags -and wool-sacks, and through a vista of tea-chests, as they were piled -in pyramidal precision, before his considerate eyes! Thoughts of better -days and better things came over him as he flung his last sovereign in -payment for some pretty trumpery of his very dear Mrs. B. and cried, "I -might have prevented all this,--_I should_--_but did not_!" - -In this mood of mind it was, that Richie, as he was one day exercising -his ruminating faculties on the number and colour of the flags on London -Bridge, and profoundly intent on the diagrams formed by the mud thereon, -was roused from his reverie by a smart tap on the shoulder. Now this was -given with such precision, there was no mistaking it; and if he had any -doubts of the intent of the individual thus accosting him, they were at -once dispelled by his _captivating_ manner, which, though manly, was -somewhat _apprehensive_, and of such a nature as to be quite _taking_ at -first sight;--such is the overpowering, irresistible charm of manner! - -"'Tis rather sudden, sir," said Richie, "and the amount not very great; -it might have been settled without arrest." - -"You must admit, Mr. Barter," said the sheriff's officer, "that the -thing is done genteelly; no noise or exposure. Surely you won't go to -jail for this trifle;" and Richie groaned as the _Bench_ and its bars -stared him in the face. - -"No use in fretting, sir," said the chief performer in this civil -action. "There's nothing like bending to a storm. If a man reels and -staggers, the best thing he can do is to 'go to the wall' for support: -and let me tell you, sir, that many a man has made a right good stand -_there_ when driven to it. Lord bless you! the coats of half my -acquaintance are absolutely threadbare from standing too close to it. -You don't understand me, mayhap not; two or three good _compositions_, -and _then_ a good fat insolvency, friendly assignees, and a few other -friendly etceteras,--that's what I mean by 'going to the wall,' Mr. -Barter. You'll make a pretty _wall_flower yourself--an excellent -creeping plant. You may be bruised a little, and in that case the _wall_ -will be good for shelter and support, and in time you may creep against -it;" and the worthy official gentlemen chuckled, as he gave poor Barter -a nudge in the side, and conducted him through what he called the way of -all flesh,--a small wicket studded with spikes, on either side of which -stood fellows with looks as sharp and as full of iron. And as Richie -found himself in the midst of the prison, a sinking of the heart--a -feeling of loneliness and desolation came over him, and he exclaimed, - -"How easily I might have avoided this!--I could have done so--'tis clear -I SHOULD--BUT I DID NOT!" - L. - - - - - PLUNDER CREEK.--1783. - _A Legend of New York._ - - BY THE AUTHOR OF "TALES OF AN ANTIQUARY." - - I cannot tell how the truth may be, - I say the tale as 'twas said to me.--SCOTT. - -The reader perhaps scarcely requires to be reminded, that an -acknowledgment of the independence of America, and preliminaries of -peace between that country and Britain, were signed at Paris, November -30th, 1782; though it was not until the following February that a vessel -from the United States first arrived in the river Thames. Early in -that month the friend who communicated this narrative chanced to visit -an old London physician, who had long since retired from practice, -and who had, oddly enough, selected as the seat of his repose one of -those ancient houses, built half of brick and half of wood, which stood -within the last seven years, on the western side of the Southwark end -of old London Bridge, partly hanging over the roaring water, and partly -standing in the street called Bridge-Foot. Another visitor, who was then -present, was a zealous old Dissenting clergyman, probably originally -of the family of Dunwoodie, or Dinwithie, but who at this time was -called Doctor Downwithit; a name which he singularly well deserved, from -his practice of beating the cushion in his fervency, in the pulpit, -and of vehemently striking the table in conversation, to enforce his -arguments and observations. In supporting these, he was generally rather -loud and tenacious; and one of his most favourite notions was, that -almost all genuine religion had travelled westward to America, which -had thus become the ark wherein it was preserved, and the very Salem -of the modern world. He believed, however, on the authority of the -early historians of the country, and especially on that of the strange -narratives of the Mather family, that certain parts were grievously -vexed by witches and evil spirits; for, like many of his brethren, he -held that compacts with the infernal powers were still possible. But if -_New_ England were thus troubled, he also considered that _Old_ England -was in a still worse condition; for he maintained the well-known saying -to be no allegory, but a literal fact, that Satan was bodily resident in -London! - -The remainder of the party, to which the reader is now introduced, -consisted of the old physician himself, and his wife,--a little sharp -old dame, most terrifically stiff and ceremonious, and dressed in the -most solemn fashion of half-a-dozen years previous. Her hair, superbly -powdered, was most exactly combed straight upright over a cushion, -the sides being curiously frizzed, and the back turned up in a broad -loop; upon the top of which tower appeared a tremulous little gauze -cap, decorated with ribands, and fastened by long pins with heads of -diamond-paste. The rest of her dress consisted of a stiff rose-colour -silk gown, of great length in the waist, and bordered in every part with -rich full trimmings; whilst the front, and all around it, was open, and -drawn up in large festoons with knots of riband, discovering an under -garment of purple silk, and a round and full-flounced white muslin -apron. Black silk shoes, with high French heels and rich diamond-cut -steel buckles, completed her costume. Next to this stately dress, if -there were any thing in which Mistress Cleopatra Curetoun was most -particularly particular, it was in observing and exacting the most -punctilious manners, and in the exhibition and preservation of her -tea-equipage; a very rare, very small, and very fragile, set of Nan-kin -porcelain, which forty years back, was in the highest estimation and -value. - -The recent peace with America, and particularly the arrival of a ship -from the United States, had inspired Dr. Downwithit with even more -than his usual warmth and energy in discoursing of them, especially -when he spake of the unlooked-for happiness and glory of "the Thirteen -Stripes of America at that moment flying in the river!" He also farther -expressed his joyful zeal by frequent and vigorous blows upon Mrs. -Cleopatra's small round tea-table, of the carved Honduras mahogany then -so fashionable, which approached in colour to ebony itself. At every -stroke of his broad and heavy fist, all the china simultaneously leaped -and chattered, and the table declined and rose again with a creaking -jerk, which showed how much it was internally affected by the worthy -preacher's zealous orations; and it may be doubted if either spring -or hinge ever perfectly recovered them. At each of these convulsions, -Mrs. Cleopatra regarded her visitor with a withering frown, every -lineament of which was visible, from the extremely open character of her -head-dress; and she appeared to be earnestly wishing that the boisterous -admirer of America were safe in irons on board the vessel he declaimed -about, with thrice the thirteen stripes duly laid upon his back. - -"The Thirteen Stripes of America in the river, madam!" exclaimed the -doctor for the twentieth time; and for the twentieth time he drove his -fist upon the table with the aforesaid consequences; "the Thirteen -Stripes of America in the river!--it's a step towards the universal -peace of the world, and an event not to be paralleled in our times! -But what do we hereupon? Why, I'll tell you: instead of receiving our -American brethren with repentance, kindness, and honour, we let their -ship come up even to the very Custom-house with as little regard as a -herring-buss or the Gravesend tilt-boat! - -"Convince yourself of it by today's _London Chronicle_. Only listen. -'February 8th. Mr. Hammet begged to inform the House of a very recent -and extraordinary event; that, at the very time he was speaking, an -American ship was in the river Thames, with the Thirteen Stripes flying -on board!'--an interjectional bang upon the table.--'She offered to -enter at the Custom-house, but the officers were at a loss what to do.' -Now, Mr. Physician, what have you to say to this?" - -"Why, doctor," said Curetoun merrily, "that brother Jonathan was -in vastly great haste to get a week sooner where nobody wanted him -at all; and so we may conclude that he's very glad the war's over, -notwithstanding his swaggering." - -"But, sir, we _do_ want our Transatlantic brother," instantly rejoined -Downwithit, in a vehement and positive voice; "we want all those -blessings which America has in such abundance,--her liberty, her -patriotism, her pastoral simplicity, her temperance, her humanity, her -piety, her----" - -"Her witches, and her slaves!" added the physician quietly. - -"Sir," said the minister, innocently, "there has not been either witch -or conjuror in America for these last fifty years, and more. If I live -another day, I will go to the wharf and glad my eyes with the sight -of that most happy vessel wherein the Thirteen Stripes of America are -now floating in the river; nor will I refuse to give the right hand of -fellowship to the meanest mariner or servant on board, but think myself -honoured and happy in his grasp: for methinks there must be something -soul-refreshing in the very voice and touch of persons coming from so -pious a country. _Here_ we speak with the tongues of worldlings; but -_there_ the common converse is framed out of that used by our ancient -godly ancestors, who, for conscience sake, emigrated to the American -deserts and forests. It is 'holy oil from the lamps of the sanctuary,' -as the pious John Clarke calls it; a sort of blessed tongue, which----" - -"You're an awful smart chap, I calkilate," exclaimed a loud voice in the -passage, with a most remarkable kind of twang; "you _are_ mighty 'cute, -but I rather guess now the 'squire is _to_ home, and that I must see him -right slick away at once, and so here I sticks." - -"Yes, sure, he speak to massa," added another voice, evidently that of a -negro, with a thick gobbling sound; "he berry 'ticklar message for him -from berry ole friend." Then, in a lower tone, it continued, "He give -Ivory lilly drop o' rum, Mister Spanker Pokehorn see him." - -These speeches had followed a loud knocking at the door, and the -servant's vain attempt to explain that Dr. Curetoun was engaged with -visitors. The domestic, however, at length succeeded in tranquillising -the guests, and then entered with a letter for the physician, of which -he almost immediately announced the contents, by saying, "Well, Dr. -Downwithit, you will now have it in your power to shake hands with a -_real_ American from yonder ship, without waiting till to-morrow, or -even going down to the wharf; for I learn by this letter, that my old -acquaintance Backwoodsley, who went to settle in Kentucky twenty years -ago, has sent over his intended son-in-law, and one of his negroes, to -collect his outstanding debts, and dispose of his property." - -"By your favour, then, sir," said the clergyman, "I beg that we may -presently have them both in." - -The physician's orders to this effect being given, in a few seconds -appeared the American and his negro. The former was a very tall and -strong man, with a sallow and most audacious countenance, shaded by -hog-colour hair, which grew in stiff pendent flakes; he was dressed in -a large loose suit of coarse light-brown duffel, with a long and wide -frock-coat and trousers, and a broad white hat. He carried a five-feet -untrimmed bamboo in one hand, and in the other a Dutch pipe, which he -continued to smoke and swing about, to the great molestation of Mrs. -Cleopatra, who absolutely started with horror, at the sight of a human -being clad in a style so savage, and so entirely opposite to the fashion -of the time. Of the negro it is enough to say, that he was of the Dutch -race, broad and big in person, very greasy in the face, something like a -ship's cook; his mouth was of an enormous size, and evidently accustomed -to both good laughing and good living; and his dress consisted of -coarse dark-grey cloth, with a tow shirt and trousers, and a dirty -striped woollen cap. After a courteous welcome and introduction, the -physician inquired after the welfare of his acquaintance in Kentucky, to -which the American replied in the same loud nasal tone as before,-- - -"Why, the 'squire's pretty kedge for an ould un, and I guess that I'm -cleverly myself; though, as I've been progressing all day hither and -yon, I arn't in such good kilter as I was when I first got in the ould -country; for I reckon it rained some to-day, and was dreadful sloshy -going, enough to make mankind slump at every step. It was mighty near -four o'clock, too, afore I could see a plate-house to feed at; and when -I made an enquerry for one, folk laughed and said nout, as if I'd spoke -Greek, or was moosical, for you doosn't talk such dreadful coorious -elegant English here in your little place of an island as we do, I -reckon. So I began to rile, I did; and grow tarnation wolfy: but at last -I saw the New York Coffee-house, and in I turns, and spends the balance -of the day there. They charged me four dollars for feed and drinking, -they did; and yet couldn't give me a beaker of egging, or gin cock-tail, -or a grain of sangaree, or any other fogmatic, or a dish of homminy. And -now I should like to make an enquerry of you; what's your names? and how -have you got along?--I say, Ivory, you precious nigger!" he continued, -suddenly turning round and aiming a long stroke at him with his rattan, -"What do _you_ do, in the 'squire's keeping-room?" - -"Massa help tell he to come in," returned Ivory, most adroitly edging -and skipping out of the sweep of the bamboo. - -"Yes, sir," interposed the physician, coming between them, "it was -at my request he came, and so he is not at all to blame. My friend -here is extremely desirous of hearing from your own lips something -about a country which he esteems so _free_, so _pious_, and so _happy_ -as America." This he uttered with a peculiarly arch expression, and -a side-glance at Downwithit; and then continued, "But first what -refreshments shall we offer you, Mr. Pokehorn; I believe that's your -name?" - -"Oh, I arn't nice, by no manner of means," returned the American; "I can -take considerable of anything now, but the nigger will like a beaker of -rum best." - -"Pray, sir," said Mrs. Cleopatra in a very stately manner, though meant -to be very gracious, "what family has Mr. Backwoodsley? I was but a mere -girl when he left Europe, though I _can_ remember he was a fine tall -portly gentleman." - -"Possible! Well, now, ma'am, I should have guessed you'd been raised -a purty middling awful long time afore that, to look at you: but, as -you say, the 'squire's tall enough now, I calkilate, and so is all his -family, for that matter; for Longfellow Backwoodsley, of Kiwigittyquag, -measures six foot three in natur's stockings, and his sister Boadicea -is but an inch and a half shorter. What family has the 'squire, did -you say? Why, mighty near a dozen, I calkilate. Let's see: there's -Travelout Backwoodsley, the oldest, he was the squatter as went to -Tennessee; Longfellow, as I told you about, an awful smart gunner and -racoon-catcher he is; Gumbleton, that is considerable of a lawyer -in York State: Hoister, as went to sea; my ould woman as is to be, -Boadicea; Increase-and-Multiply, the schoolmaster in Connecticut; -Brandywine, what keeps the Rock of Columbia hotel at Boston, and a -mighty powerful log-tavern it is as you'll see in a year's march; -Leandish, that has the plate-house at Hoboken; Skinner, what set up the -leather and finding store in Kentucky: I some think that's the tote, -but four or five squeakers, squealers, younkers, whelps, and rubbish, -that keeps about the ould log-house at home as yet. Pray how ould's your -wife, 'squire? and where was she raised?" - -"I suppose," said the physician, taking no notice of this question, -"that Master Backwoodsley is growing rich, and likes his settlement, by -his not coming back to England." - -"Oh yaas! he conducts well, and likes his location," was the reply. "He -bought at a good lay first, and then filled it with betterments, and -farming trade, and creturs, and helps, and niggers, at an awful smart -outlay of the dollars, I calkilate; but he has got along considerable -well for all that. For sartain he is the yellow flower of the forest -for prosperity. As for coming back, he used to say, when the war had a -closure he would go to the ould country, and bring away the plunder he -left behind; but about last fall the ague give him a purty particular -smart awful shaking, and put him in an unhandsome fix, so the journey -wouldn't convene. So one day, as I was a-looking over my snake-fence -at Rams-Babylon, almost partly opposite to his clearing, what doos I -see, but the 'squire coming along the road at a jouncing pace on his -Narragansett mar, what is a real smasher at a trotting, and then he -pulled up close to the zig-zag, and I stuck myself atop of a stake, -and we held a talk. Says the 'squire, says he, 'Son-in-law Spanker P. -Pokehorn as is to be'--my name's Anthony Spanker Pendleton Pokehorn, -but he always shorts it,--'Son-in-law Spanker P. Pokehorn, I'll tell -you what it is,--I guess I'm getting ould now, and more than that, I've -a desp'ut ugly ague, what has made me quite froughy and brash to what -I was, so that I should take two good blows of my fist to bring down a -beef-cretur; which doosn't ought to be, when a man's only sixty. Now, -you see, as I can't go to get in my debits and plunder from the ould -country, I'll deed them all to you for thirty dollars cash, or lumber, -or breadstuffs, or farmers' pro_duce_, if you admire; and the tote -appreciates to mighty near two hundred, I guess.'" - -"Well, sir," said Curetoun, "and on this account you have come to -England?" - -"Oh yaas!" answered the Columbian; "but at first I declined off to buy -at a better lay; for arter higgling back and forth for a while, I give -the 'squire but twenty dollars in all, and he give me the nigger, Ivory -Whiteface there, besides. Sartain he was awful sharp to make an ugly -bargain; but if he _was_ the steel blade, I guess I was the unpierceable -di'mond; and, for fear he should squiggle, I got all set down in black -and white afore the authority, and a letter to Lawyer Sharples. Now I -calkilate to put up all at auction, and to sell some notions of my own, -what I've brought over in my plunder, to make more avails.--How do you -allot upon that?" - -"Why, sir," said Dr. Downwithit, "that sensible notions from America -are very much wanted at this time, to show us the excellence of her -equitable laws and liberties, and the purity of her religion. I say, -sir, publish them. There's no doubt of their selling well and quickly -for any bookseller----" - -"The Lord!" exclaimed Mr. Pokehorn, with a shrill whistle and a sidelong -glance at the minister, and then, turning to Curetoun, he said, "The -ould 'squire's awful wordy; he's a Congress-man or a slang-whanger, I -guess, or else he's mighty moosical, I reckon.--Bookseller!--Publish! ---What doos he mean?--You tarnation nigger! who told you to laugh? -You calkilate as I harn't got the cowskins here; but I'll whop you -cooriously all as one.--I'll tell you what it is, friend, I doosn't know -what you means, I doosn't." - -"Why, Mr. Pokehorn, that you should print your American notions." - -"Print!--Oh yaas! I guess now,--in the notice of vendue you mean. Why, -there's no merchants' trade, no awful package; only a few small little -notions, and such wares, though they arn't got genoowine into the ould -country, I reckon. It's some Indian plunder as I cleared out when I came -away." - -"Is it possible, then," exclaimed Downwithit, "that the highly-favoured -inhabitants of America deal in plunder! Restore that illgotten spoil of -the Indians young man, or----" - -"What _doos_ he mean?" interrupted Pokehorn, in a perplexed and angry -voice. "Why, doosn't he understand English? Arn't plunder travelling -stuff?--And what did you think notions was?" - -"Sir," said the minister, "in our language the term signifies thoughts; -and I supposed that you had meant intellectual, or moral, or religious -views of America; not the base wares of worldly traffic." - -"Perhaps, Mr. Pokehorn," said the physician, wishing to relieve both his -guests, "you interest yourself more in the politics of your country. Did -you witness any of the late actions? or was your residence near the seat -of war?" - -"Sartain!" returned the American. "I guess that we had purty -considerable tough skrimmageing about us. What with the Indians, and the -riglars, and the skinners, and the cow-boys, there warn't no keeping a -beef-cretur in the pen, nor sleeping ten winks at a time. You'd have -thought the devil was let loose." - -"And no doubt he was, as he always is in war," said Downwithit, "or -rather he sent forth his legions to vex your persecuted land; for his -only proper habitation on earth is this sin-devising city of London!" - -"That a berry true, massa," interposed the negro, "for Massa -Backwoodsley often say, 'Ivory, I whop you, sure as a devil in London;' -and he always do it. But folk say, another devil in Ameriky, for all -that. He know story of man what see um and talk to um. He not b'lieve it -at all, dough. Good parson sometime preach about he's tempatation." - -"That's a fact," added Mr. Pokehorn, "and an awful strange history it -is, if true. If you want to hear the story, the nigger can fix you; for -he's precious tonguey and wordy about them devildoms, and witches, and -wild Indians, when he sits in the mud in the sunshine, at Rams-Babylon -and High-Forks, keeping the helps from work, or at a maple-log fire in -the winter." - -"Then, my sable friend," said Downwithit, "with the good leave of all -present, we'll have it now." - -"Why, I'll tell you what it is," answered Pokehorn, "if it will happify -the ould 'squire, the nigger shall have his own head for once in a -while; so fire away, Ivory, and when you're not right I'll set you wrong -myself." - -"Iss, massa," began the negro; "ebbery body like a hear ole Ivory tell -he story about a PLUNDER CREEK: - -"In um ole ancient time of York, afore a great war, all a West Indy keys -and a Long Island Straits and Sound war' a berry full of a ugly cruel -pirates;--s'pose massa often heard of they;--and um ould folk, what sure -to know, say a devil fuss help 'em get plunder, and then larn 'em how to -hide it safe, in a middle of dark stormy nights, under bluffs, and up a -creeks, all along shore, nighum Bowery Lane.--S'pose massa know a Bowery -Lane, in um end of York?" - -"Sartain the 'squire does know that, you tarnation Guinea-crow, though -he doos keep in the ould country," interposed Mr. Pokehorn; "but I guess -it's enough to make mankind rile to hear a body doubt it, sin' the -Bowery Lane, in the free independent city of York, in York State, must -be knowed by all the tote of the univarsal arth, I reckon! Well, now -I calkilate it was a mighty coorious place for them ugly pirates, and -did convene well, being partly all nigh the straits, awful rocky, and -considerable full of trees hanging over, because there warn't then no -clearing them away; and the say was, that the devil and them tarnation -set of sarpents buried their plunder there, where mankind mought look -for it till the week arter doomsday, and never get it out again. They -say the devil's hands is cruel clitchy when he takes money to keep; and -though a purty considerable banditti of money-diggers has often been -arter it, they couldn't fix it, that's a fact, and I some think that -nobody never will now." - -"Him that try a last," resumed the negro,--"a half-starve crazy -schoolmaster and almanack-maker, name a Domine Crolius Arend -Keekenkettel, what some call he Peep-in-a-pot,--he travel about and live -by him wits, wherever him find good cupboard. He ask a ole governor of -York let him conjure away a devil, and get up money for a state; only he -want a pay first to help him dig. But golly! a governor he mighty smart -for white man, and no fool; he say, 'Dere a shovel and pickaxe, dem all -you want now, I guess. You go dig; you find considerable much treasure -of a ugly pirates, you hab a half then, but no tink a get anyting afore, -I calkilate.'" - -"Shut your ugly beak, you croaking blackbird!" interrupted the American, -incensed by Ivory's singular praise of the whites; "and doosn't be -moosical upon your betters; though he was an Englisher, I reckon that -he was a purty middling sight afore a small world of niggers. Well, the -schoolmaster he contrived to make friends with a fat little Dutcher, -which had to name Dyckman Deypester, and was located on a clearing in -the Bloomendael, up the Bowery Lane, on the road to Yonkers and Tarry -Town. The say was, that he had such an almighty quantity of dollars, -that he floored his keeping-room with them under the bricks; and I -rather guess that he did keep 'em awfully close out of the sight of -mankind. I doosn't tell you this for sartain: but, to be sure, he was -considerable of a farmer, he was; and made as many betterments, and -got as many humans and creturs about his clearing, as brought a whole -banditti of suitorers arter his daughter Dortje; and she was besides a -dreadful smart, clever, coorious lass as you shall see between Cow-neck -and Babylon. There was young Louis Hudson, a springy, ac_tive_ young -fellow. He was a settler; but nobody knowed where he was born, nor -himself neither, like a homeless and markless ram. I guess, though, he -was raised to York State, he was such a flower of mankind. Then there -was ould Morgan Hornigold, from Jamaica: belike he was a leetle of the -buccaneer, for he'd been to sea all his days, and looked some between a -Jarman and a Spaniard, with a cross of the sea bull-dog. He was purty -kedge still; but I some think he wanted to lay up for life where it -warn't knowed what he had been. Then there was the almanack-maker, and a -banditti of suitorers besides, as I said afore. I calkilate that dollars -warn't awful plenty with any of them: but what they wanted in cash, -they made up in fierce love to Doll Deypester; and stuff, and notions, -and palaver to the ould Dutcher. He was a coorious smart individual, -and considerably moosical, and so he let them think that they'd got -his good word by sarving as helps on his clearing, making his zig-zag -grand against breachy cattle, or the likes of that; but I reckon that -he warn't the fish to be caught without the golden hook: though, if the -devil had been the fisherman then, he would have fixed the Dutcher. I -some think that it was nigh spring that Doll Deypester's birth-day came -about, and all the suitorers were awful earnest with ould Dyckman to fix -for one of them; the woman being most for young Hudson, and the Dutcher -for him as had most plunder, and could best get well along in the world. -So says the mynheer, says he, 'I'll tell you what it is,' says he; -'you're all mighty smart fellows, you are; but afore I give my gal to -any of you, I must know if you can pay the charges; for I reckon for me -to give the dollars and the wife both is what I call a leetle too purty -middling particklar. I won't have no squatting on my clearing, and no -bundling with my darter, I won't; and so, to save squiggling, whoever of -you can bring me first five hundred hard dollars on her birth-day shall -have Dortje Deypester.'--That was what ould Dyckman said, only I rather -guess that he didn't talk such coorious elegant English as I doos, -because he was an awful smoker, and a Dutcher besides. Upon the hearing -of this, they mighty soon took themselves slick right away off, all but -young Hudson and the schoolmaster; for one knowed when he was in good -quarters, and t'other loved Dortje too well, I calkilate, to leave till -he couldn't stay no longer.--I say, Ivory, arn't you going to tell the -'squire the story, or do you calkilate as I should go the whole hog for -you, you 'tarnal lazy log of ebony?" - -"Him tinkee massa like to hear heself talk best," answered the negro. -"Golly! he tell it awful elegant, sure:--most as well as ole Ivory. A -day afore a Dortje's birth-day, come on mighty ugly storm, what a ole -folk say tear up ebberyting he meet on a ground, and rocks on a shore, -so that man see considerable much strange tings dere, what he never -know afore or again. A wind crack a biggest trees, and snap a strongest -zig-zags like a twigs, and a rain pour down like a water-spout. Toward -a night a storm he little clear up, and a wind he blow but in puff and -gusts, and a moon show heself, dough in mighty cloudy watery sky. -Then Louis he leave a house of ole Deypester, 'cause he not see Dortje -give away next morning to Jamaica-man, and bote of 'em sad enough, he -calkilate; but there no help, and away he go in despair. He not got -far from a clearing when he see a moon shine down mighty ugly narrow -gulf, where a road go to a Hudson River below, and he stop little and -look, 'cause he never remember he to see a place afore. While he stand, -he tink he hear man speak, and then he see him sitting on rock in a -moonlight, half way down a gulf, and another standing by. Hudson then go -down heself on a dark side, till he get opposite, and then he look over -and see a Domine Keekenkettel talking to a mighty 'tickler handsome, -grand, ole colour gentleum----" - -"Sartain it was the ould gentleman, sure_ly_," interrupted the American, -"in the shape of a nigger, which arn't considerably much of a hiding for -the devil, I calkilate." - -"I don't tink he look a bit of a devil," answered Ivory, somewhat -offended. "A tink a devil so handsome as a colour man? Be sure he no -devil, 'cause ebberybody know he all white!" - -"Quit, you lying jackdaw!" replied Pokehorn with great promptness, and -a long stroke at Ivory; "that's only in Guinea, I calkilate, that he -mayn't be mistaken for one of the family. Go on, and don't be moosical, -or I trounce you." - -"Well," resumed the negro, "Louis soon hear a domine say, 'This our -bargain, then,--I take your place to watch a pirates' treasure,--I -guess I soon fix him, and get him all slick away. But afore you and I -deal, p'raps you show where a money is buried.' A stranger then point -between a rocks beside him, and say in he's deep voice, 'Dere!' And then -down by a colour man, Louis he see into a ground, what seems all full -of treasure shining in a moonlight; here awful much gold and dollars, -and dere a gold and silver plate, and a t'other place full of di'monds -and jewels, bright as stars in a night sky. Grach! I tink he won'er, -and b'lieve he rile a little that a almanack-maker so easy get a five -hundred dollars for Dortje Deypester. A domine stare into a cave as if -he's eyes eat up all he look at; but at last he get up and say, 'I gree, -and dere my hand on a bargain; I take care all instead of you, and much -more as you can show me.' So he fill he's pouches, and then go away to -ole Deypester for a horses and bags to bring away a rest, dough he often -turn a head to look back at a treasure. He hardly gone when a strange -colour man call out to Louis in he's deep voice, 'This a dark night for -a sad heart to journey in.' Louis turn he round directly, and see him -close beside, berry tall and genteel, such a bootiful gentleum! dough -he no make out he's face for a clouds over a moon. He little feared -and won'ered at first, but soon he got up he's pluck and say, 'I guess -it dark enough, but how you know my heart sad?' T' other answer him -smart, 'That want no wizard, when he hear a sighs like yours. But he -know little more yet: he reckon you want a five hundred dollars afore -to-morrow, or lose your sweetheart, which a true shame for ac_tive_ -springy lad like you: a pirates' treasure dere, hab a ten thousand times -as much, as he know by a watching it these twenty years.'--'In a God's -name!' say Louis then, 'who are you,--and who set you there?'--'One -of a last of a Spanish buccaneers' say the other; 'that berry Captain -Hornigold, what make love to Dortje Deypester. He take a ship, and kill -all on board but me and young child, that I slave to; then he bring us -bote to a shore, where he hide all his plunder, and stab us, and tell a -ghosts to watch it. A young child he live, and found on a river bank, -and so called by it name--Louis Hudson, it yourself!--but I die, and -wan'er about a treasure-grave till a captain come back, or another take -my place, or a right owner come for his own. All that happen to-night, -and I soon at liberty for ever!--You hear a money-digger say he look -to a pirates' spoil hereafter, and be sure he never quit a creek -again, dough he never find a gold any more. This treasure here, belong -to a father, who killed in ship; it now all your own; take him, but -take a nothing more;--use him well, and you be fifty times so rich as -Deypester, and hab a blessing beside.--Hark! a bell strike twelve!--my -time most up now, and dere come a captain!" - -"Ivory, you 'tarnal tonguey imp!" again interrupted the American, "doos -you mean to keep on all night about that precious wordy black preaching -in the creek? Now I'll show you how to finish it all right slick away at -once, I will.--You see, then, the captain comes trampoosing up from the -river with a spade and a lanthorn, to dig for the treasure; and, as soon -as he gets in, he cries out, 'Plunder and prize-money! this is a desp'ut -ugly awful dark berth.--Is there anybody on watch, I wonder?' Upon which -that dreadful big black comes up and says, 'Yes, I calkilate I'm awake -here; and now, as I've kept the treasures of the bold buccaneers till -you've come back, if you admire we'll go off together.'--'Bear a smart -hand, then, with the plunder into the boat below, afore the tide falls,' -says Hornigold. 'Clouds and midnight! how dark it is, and the gale blows -stiffer than ever!--Seas and billows! why, the tide's coming up the -creek ten fathom strong!'--That's all as was ever heard of the captain -or the nigger, I guess; for what between the water as come roaring up, -and the rain as came pouring down, they were carried off to sea with all -their plunder, and nobody never saw or heard of them sarpents again!" - -"A most astonishing and mysterious providence, truly," said Downwithit, -"and worthy of being recorded with the narratives of Baxter, Reynolds, -Janeway, and Mather.--But what became of the others?" - -"Why," said Mr. Pokehorn, "as for Louis, he turned out to be some awful -great man or other, and considerable rich. He showed ould Deypester -a thousand dollars next morning, and married Dortje afore night. But -Keekenkettel went mad outright, because he couldn't never fix the -treasure again, and found that he'd filled his pouches with shells and -stones, as looked mighty like dollars and doubloons in the moonshine. -Folk say he was only dreaming, and that there never warn't no such -treasure for him to find; though they guessed that young Hudson got his -money by the storm having washed it up out of the ground. But it's a -true fact, it is, that the domine always arter, kept camfoozling about -the Pirates' Plunder Creek as long as he lived, as he bargained to do; -and whenever there's a mighty smart storm in the night, with a blink of -moonlight, the say is that he's to be seen there still." - - - - - THE SPECTRE. - - It was a wild and gloomy dream: to think upon it now, - My very blood is chill'd with fear; and o'er my aching brow - Cold clammy drops are stealing down, I tremble like a child - Who listens to a story of the wonderful and wild! - And well a stouter heart than mine might quake with dread, I ween;-- - But who hath ever gazed, like me, on such a fearful scene! - - * * * * * - - Sleep dropp'd upon my wearied eyes, and down I sank to rest; - But no refreshing slumbers upon my senses press'd; - Ten thousand lights before my eyes were dancing,--blue and red; - Ten thousand hollow voices cried--I knew not what they said. - My brain wheel'd round--faint grew my limbs--I cried and - scream'd in vain; - It seem'd as though some cursed imp had bound me with his chain! - My tongue clave to the parched roof,--a raging thirst was mine, - As I had drunk for months and months, nought else but saltest brine; - Thirst such as parched pilgrims feel who range the desert wide, - Or those who lie 'neath scorching skies upon a calmed tide. - My temples throbb'd as they would burst; and, raging through my brain, - The boiling blood rush'd furiously with sound like a hurricane! - I rav'd and foam'd; my eyeballs strain'd, as though the nerves - would burst, - As by my side appear'd a form--a demon form accurst! - And suddenly another came--another and yet more, - All clad in dark habiliments;--a dozen--ay, a score! - On me they leer'd with savage joy, and seized me, every one, - And round and round about me went.--Oh! how my senses spun! - I thought the leader of that band of sprites must surely be - The Evil One, and I his prey. I vainly strove to flee: - I tried to pray,--my tongue was dumb;--then down upon the ground - I sank, and felt my every limb with fiery fetters bound. - I know not now, how long I lay; my senses all were gone, - And I with those infernal ones was left alone, alone. - At length I started with affright, and felt, or seemed to feel, - The blasts of hot sulphureous air across my forehead steal. - A horrid thought, as on we mov'd, upon my senses burst, - That they were bearing me away unto the place accurst. - Oh! language vainly strives to paint the horrors of that ride! - Two demons at my head and feet, and two on either side. - The stars above were bloody red--each one seem'd doubly bright, - And spectral faces glar'd in mine, with looks of grim delight. - Still slowly, slowly on we mov'd, that ghastly troop and I: - I questioned, where?--a fiendish laugh was only their reply. - On, onward I was borne. At last they stay'd, and in my face - A hideous visage peer'd on me with horrible grimace: - Then down they threw me (still unbound) upon a bed of stone, - And one by one they vanished, and I was left alone! - - * * * * * - - How long I lay, I may not say. At length I saw a form - Beside me, and upon his brow there seem'd a gathering storm. - "Where am I?" loud I scream'd, and paus'd. Again I rav'd, and cried, - "And who art thou, thou evil one! who standest at my side? - What spectre art thou?" "Come," said he, - "young feller, hold your peace; - You're on the stretcher now, and I'm the _'spector_ of police!" - - - - - AUTHORS AND ACTORS; OR, ENGAGING A COMPANY. - _A Dramatic Sketch._ - -_Scene--The Manager's Room. The Manager discovered._ - -_Manager._--Well! my theatre is built at last, and I have now only to -think about opening it. My walls are so dry that they cannot throw a -damp upon my prospects. My stage is all ready for starting; and every -one, I am happy to say, seems inclined to take the box-seat. Everything -now must go as smooth as a railroad. I have always heard that a manager -must lead a devil of a life; but I am in hopes I shall be an exception -to the rule, and that management to me will be a delightful pastime. - -_Fitz-Growl_ (_without_).--But I must see him. - -_Manager._--Who the deuce can this be? - - (_Enter a Servant._) - -_Servant._--If you please, sir, here's a person wants to speak to you. - -_Manager._--I'm busy about the opening of the theatre; tell him you -can't get near me. - -_Servant._--But he says he's an author, sir, and has called about his -piece. - -_Manager._--His piece! why, these authors let me have no peace at all. - -_Servant._--He would come up, sir, though I told him you wouldn't suffer -any one behind the scenes. - -_Manager._--And particularly an author; for he makes people suffer -enough before them. - -_Servant._--Here he is, sir; he would force his way up. - - (_Exit Servant. Enter Fitz-Growl._) - -_Manager._--My servant says you would force your way up. - -_Fitz-Growl._--And isn't it natural an author should wish to do so? - -_Manager._--Well; but, sir, it is not usual in theatres for the manager -to see any one. - -_Fitz-Growl._--Not usual to see any one! It must be a very poor look-out. - -_Manager._--Well, sir, as you are here, may I ask your business? - -_Fitz-Growl._--Why, being anxious for the success of your theatre, I -sent you three of my pieces to begin with. Now, sir, I've had no answer. - -_Manager._--My dear sir, we cannot answer everybody. Theatres never -answer in these times. However, your pieces shall be looked out. You can -believe in my assurance. - -_Fitz-Growl._--Certainly; a manager ought to have assurance enough for -anything. But I tell you, sir, if you want to succeed, you must open -with my piece. - -_Manager._--What is the nature of it? - -_Fitz-Growl._--Nature! The beauty of my piece is, that there's no nature -at all in it; it's beautifully unnatural. - -_Manager._--Indeed! I hope there is some spirit in the dialogue? - -_Fitz-Growl._--Some spirit, sir! there is a ghost in it. - -_Manager._--A ghost, my dear sir! that won't do for my theatre; my -audience would have too much sense for a thing of that kind. - -_Fitz-Growl._--Then you'll never do any good, sir; but, may I ask what -sort of pieces you intend producing? - -_Manager._--Variety and novelty, sir, will be my aim. - -_Fitz-Growl._--Novelty! then my piece is the very thing. I sink the -whole stage. - -_Manager._--Thank you; but I'd rather leave the task of sinking the -stage to others; my aim shall be to raise it. - -_Fitz-Growl._--My dear sir, you know nothing of effect; if you could -only cover the stage with people, and then let them all down at once, it -would be terrific! - -_Manager._--My dear sir, I don't want to cover my stage with people, and -then let them down; I'd sooner hold my performers up than see them let -down. - -_Fitz-Growl._--That's very fine talking; but you must get the money, and -I can assure you mine are the only pieces to do it. - -_Manager._--Indeed, sir; then I'm too generous to my fellow-managers to -think of monopolising the only author whose pieces will draw. - - (_Enter Servant._) - -_Servant._--A gentleman named Scowl is below. - -_Manager._--Oh! the gentleman I was to see respecting an engagement. Beg -him to walk up. (_Exit Servant._) - -_Fitz-Growl._--Ah! he's an old friend of mine. He plays the devil in all -my pieces. - -_Manager._--Plays the devil, does he? - -_Fitz-Growl._--My best friend, sir; he has made the character I allude -to his own. - -_Manager._--It is to be hoped, for his sake, that the character you -allude to will not return the compliment. - - (_Enter Scowl._) - -_Fitz-Growl._--Ah! my dear Scowl, how are you? - -_Scowl._--So, so; I swallowed a quantity of the smoke last night in your -new piece. - -_Manager._--Did the audience swallow it too? - -_Scowl._--Sir? - -_Manager._--I beg your pardon, sir; I believe you wish to lead the -business at my theatre? - -_Fitz-Growl._--He's the very man for it. - -_Manager._--What is your line, sir? - -_Scowl._--Why, I don't mind the heavy business; but I prefer the demons, -or the singing scoundrels. - -_Manager._--But I don't think I shall do that sort of thing. - -_Scowl._--More fool you. If you want your theatre to pay, you must stick -to the melodrama: the people are sure to come if you can only frighten -them away. - -_Fitz-Growl._--Yes, I find it so with my pieces; they draw the same -people over and over again, because they are forced to come several -times before they can venture to sit them out. - -_Manager._--But I sha'n't aim at that. - -_Scowl._--More fool you. But if I can be of any service to you in the -combat way,--I can fight with a sword in each hand, a dagger in my -mouth, and a bayonet in my eye. What do you think of that? - -_Manager._--Astonishing! - -_Scowl._--My friend Mr. Fitz-Growl has written me an excellent new part. - -_Manager._--What's that about? - -_Fitz-Growl._--Oh! nothing particular. I write down a few horrors, make -a list of the murders, and my friend Scowl knows what to be up to. - -_Manager._--Really, gentlemen, I don't see that we can come to terms. - -_Fitz-Growl._--Don't see!--what! you don't want my pieces? - -_Scowl._--Nor my acting? - -_Manager._--Neither, gentlemen, I thank you. - -_Fitz-Growl._--Then I'll go home and write a melodrama, called the -"_Doomed Manager_," and you shall be the hero. - -_Manager._--Thank you. - -_Scowl._--And I'll play the part. - -_Manager._--What! you represent me? That's too cruel. But I must wish -you good morning. - -_Scowl._--Farewell! remember me! - -_Fitz-Growl._--And me too. I say, sir, remember me! - - (_Exeunt Scowl and Fitz-Growl with melodramatic eye-rollings._) - -_Manager._--Well, I hope all the applications won't be like this, or I -shall never get a company. - - (_Enter a Bill-sticker._) - -_Manager._--Well, my good fellow, who are you? - -_Bill-sticker._--Why, I'm one of your best friends; I'm the -bill-sticker. Nobody sticks up for you like I do. - -_Manager._--Well, but what do you want? - -_Bill-sticker._--Why, sir, I'm sorry to say that as fast as I put your -bills up, somebody else comes and pulls them down. - -_Manager._--How is that? - -_Bill-sticker._--I don't know, sir. It's werry ungentlemanly, whoever -does it. The fact is, sir, your bills meet with as much opposition as -bills in Parliament; and I'm sure I don't know why, unless it is that -they are what we call money-bills. - -_Manager._--Perhaps they are too large, and occupy too much space: you -know the printing is very large, the type is bold, and the capitals are -immense. - -_Bill-sticker._--That's it, sir. It's the immense capital; it's such a -novelty in theatres that they're all afraid of it. Shall I pull down -their bills, sir? - -_Manager._--Certainly not. I will never sanction those whom I employ in -unworthily attempting to hurt the interests of others. My theatre is for -the amusement of all, and the employment of many; but the injury of none. - -_Bill-sticker._--Oh! if that's your motto, everybody ought to stick up -for you; and I'm sure I will for one. - -_Manager._--Thank you, friend, for the promise of your influence. - -_Bill-sticker._--And it's no mean influence, either; for, though only -one poor fellow, I carry more bills in a day than the House of Commons -carries in a whole session. - - (_Exit Bill-sticker._) - -_Manager._--Well! management does not seem so smooth, after all: one -meets with vexations now and then, I fear. Oh! who comes now? - - (_Enter Queershanks._) - -_Manager._--Your pleasure, sir? - -_Queershanks._--My name is Queershanks. You have built a theatre, have -you not? - -_Manager._--I have, sir. - -_Queershanks._--Very good: then you will want a model. - -_Manager._--A model after it is built? - -_Queershanks._--Certainly: but not a model of a theatre; a model of a -man. - -_Manager._--What for, sir? - -_Queershanks._--Why, sir, you will want occasionally to give -representations of statues. I am an excellent hand at it. - -_Manager._--But, sir, my theatre is dedicated to Apollo. - -_Queershanks._--The very thing, sir: I have stood as the model of the -Apollo Belvedere to the cleverest artists. - -_Manager._--They must have been clever artists to make an Apollo -Belvedere with you for their model; but I cannot entertain your -engagement in that shape. - -_Queershanks._--Not engage me in that shape! My shape is -unexceptionable. Only look at this muscle. Here's muscle for Hercules, -sir! Feel it, sir; will you be so good? - -_Manager._--I see it. - -_Queershanks._--No,--but feel it. - -_Manager._--Quite unnecessary, sir. I don't think what you could do -would suit our audience. - -_Queershanks._--Do you mean to say, sir, I should do you no good? Look -at this muscle, sir. Would not muscle like that make a tremendous hit? -(_Striking him._) - -_Manager._--Sir, I'm quite satisfied. - -_Queershanks._--Satisfied, sir! so you ought to be: I've got the nose of -Mars, sir. - -_Manager._--My dear sir, what is it to the public if you've got Mars' -nose and Pa's chin. - -_Queershanks._--I mean the classical Mars,--not my mother, you silly -fellow. Then I've got the eye of a Cyclop, and the whiskers of -Virginius. As yours is to be a classical theatre, will you give me a -trial? - -_Manager._--What can you do? - -_Queershanks._--I'm very good in the ancient statues, only I've made -them modern to suit the time. You know the "_African alarmed -by thunder_?" - -_Manager._--Yes: a fine subject. - -_Queershanks._--I've modernised it into the "_Black footman frightened -by an omnibus_:" this is it. (_Music; he does it._) - -_Manager._--Very good! What else have you? Can you give me "_Ajax -defying the lightning_?" - -_Queershanks._--I have modernised it into the "_Little boy defying the -beadle_." (_Music; he does it._) - -_Manager._--Capital! Have you any more? - -_Queershanks._--One more. You've seen the "_Dying Gladiator_?" I think -my "_Prize-fighter unable to come up to time_" beats it all to nothing. - (_Music; he does it._) - -_Queershanks._--That's something like sculpture, isn't it? - -_Manager._--Yes; but it won't do in my theatre. - -_Queershanks._--Won't do, sir! what do you mean? - -_Manager._--Why, I think the audience I wish to attract will like -something better than dumb show. Good morning! - -_Queershanks._--I'm gone, sir; but remember you've lost me. I tell you, -sir, that my statues would have made your season; but I leave you, sir, -with contempt (_striking an attitude_). Do you know that, sir? It's the -celebrated statue of Napoleon turning with contempt from the shores of -Elba, which, as you know, he left because he wanted more _elbow_ room. -(_Exit Queershanks with an attitude._) - -_Manager._--Well; each person that applies for an engagement seems to -think he is the man to make my fortune for me, and gets quite angry that -I won't let him have an opportunity of doing so; but I begin to see I -must think for myself. - - (_Enter Servant._) - -_Servant._--A lady and two children wish to see you, sir. - -_Manager._--Show them in. (_Exit Servant._) Some new candidates, I -suppose: here they come. Ladies! they are the first that have done me -the honour to apply to me. - - (_Enter Mrs. Fiddler, Miss F. and Master F._) - -_Manager._--Your pleasure, madam? - -_Mrs. F._--My name is Fiddler, sir; did you ever hear of me? I've got -a friend, a supernumerary at Astley's who has great influence in the -theatrical world; he promised to speak to you; has he done so? - -_Manager._--Really, madam, I do not remember to have had an interview -with any such person. - -_Mrs. F._--Indeed! that's strange: but I suppose you've heard of the -clever Fiddlers? - -_Manager._--You mean Paganini, perhaps, and De Beriot? - -_Mrs. F._--No, indeed, I don't; I mean my clever children here, Master -and Miss Fiddler. - -_Manager._--Indeed, madam; I'm happy to make their acquaintance. - -_Mrs. F._--And so you ought to be, sir. Come here, Julietta: this young -lady, sir, has got _such_ a voice! It goes upon the high _C's_ as safe -as an East-Indiaman. I want you to engage her. - -_Manager._--I should like to hear her sing, before I thought of engaging -her; she might fail. - -_Mrs. F._--And if she did, sir,--if the public were so unjust,--how -great would be the consolation to you to know that you partially -repaired the injury by paying the dear child a salary! - -_Manager._--I am afraid, madam, I could not proceed on that plan. - -_Mrs. F._--You will excuse my saying, sir, that you have strange notions -of liberality; but you shall hear her sing. Come, my dear, let's have -the _Baccy-role_; it's beautiful in your mouth, my dear. - -_Manager._--(_Aside._) Baccy-role, indeed! (_Aloud._) Let's hear you, my -dear. (_Miss F. looks stupid and does not sing a note. Mrs. F. moving -her hands and arms, sing for her very badly, a bit of the Barcarole from -Musaniello._) - -_Mrs. F._--You see, sir, that's what the dear child means; though she -can't do it before you, she is so nervous. But all that will wear off -when she gets before the audience. - -_Manager._--It's to be hoped so, but what can the young gentleman do? - -_Mrs. F._--What can he do! anything--he's a dancer; his pirouettes are -tremendous: only look here! (_She turns him round and round till he -falls down giddy._) See! he spins like a top; in fact he'll soon be the -top of his profession. - -_Manager._--Why, bless the boy! you don't call that dancing, do you? - -_Mrs. F._--Of course: the dear boy has over-exerted himself, that's all; -but he'll soon come round. - -_Manager._--Why, he has come round too much; but I can't engage him. - -_Mrs. F._--Then, sir, let me tell you, you'll never do. (_Exeunt Mrs. F. -Master F. and Miss F._) - -_Manager._--Why, that's what everybody tells me. Here, Tom! don't let -me be annoyed by any one else. I find there's no small difficulty in -exercising one's own discretion in these matters. I may do much to -improve the race both of authors and actors, if I think and judge for -myself; but to render my efforts of any avail, the public must do so -too. And when will they begin to do it? - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - - A CRITICAL GOSSIP WITH LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU. - -The character of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu is about as little known to -the generality of readers as the source of the Nile, or the precise -position of the North Pole. She has taken her place in public estimation -as a forward, witty, voluptuous woman of fashion, who flirted, if she -did not intrigue, with Pope; who was initiated into all the mysteries -of a Turkish harem, and who chronicled those mysteries with no very -delicate hand:--who affected friendships, lampooned her associates, and -wrote verses of _single-entendre_; who married rashly, loved unwisely, -and led a life of ultra-friendship and long unexplained divorce. Such -is Lady Mary Wortley Montagu supposed to be! so prone is biography to -perpetuate the fleeting scandals of the day, to distort mystery or -obscurity into indecorum or baseness, and to darken and discolour the -stream of time with the filth that is vulgarly and maliciously thrown -into it at its source. The period appears to have arrived at which Lady -Mary's character has obtained the power of purifying itself. With many -faults, constitutional as well as acquired, there can be no doubt that -she was a lady of surpassing powers of mind, of extreme wit, an easy -command of her own as well as of the learned languages, a surprising -knowledge of the world even in her youth, a vivid poetical imagination, -a heart full of foibles, but fuller of love for her _own_ circle, and -that of her friends; and, above all, an abundance of common sense, which -regulated her affections, her actions, her reflections, and her style, -so as to render her the most accomplished lady of her own, or of the -subsequent age. We do not think we can do justice to this fascinating -creature in a better way than by lounging through the three volumes -which Lord Wharncliffe's ancestral love, literary ability, and elegant -taste, have given to the world. We may gossip with this work as we -might with her who originated it, stroll with her in her favourite -gardens, listen to her verses, catch her agreeable anecdotes, receive -her valuable observations on human nature, as though she were actually -before us in her splendid and _eternal_ nightgown, or in her Turkish -dress, (so sweet in Lord Harrington's charming miniature) or in her -domino at Venice, or in her lute-string, or in her English court-dress. -Our gossip, however,--save as to the remarks we may, to use the phrase -of the dramatist, utter aside to that vast pit, the public,--will very -much resemble that between Macbeth and the armed head, at which the -witches give their admonitory caution. That caution will not be lost -upon us--for it will nearly be,-- - - "Hear _her_ speak, and say thou nought." - -The introduction to this interesting work is from the editor, and it is -written with a Walpole felicity in its points, though we would rather -have had it more continuous than anecdotical. Our purpose we have -professed to be, to gossip with Lady Mary, and we therefore shall make -but two extracts from the introduction,--the one because it is _perhaps_ -leaning to the unfeeling; the other, because it is indisputably the -truth of feeling. Madame de Sevigné did not deserve the phrase which we -have marked in italics in the following passage, and indeed Lady Mary, -in one of her letters, announces herself as a successful rival of this -very agreeable French letter-writer,--an announcement which ought to -have cautioned an editor against depreciating the powers of one whom the -edited had chosen to select as a rival. - -"The modern world will smile, but should however beware of too hastily -despising works that charmed Lady Mary Wortley in her youth, and were -courageously defended by Madame de Sevigné even when hers was past, and -they began to be sliding out of fashion. She, it seems, thought with the -_old woman_ just now mentioned, that they had a tendency to elevate the -mind, and to instil honourable and generous sentiments. At any rate they -must have fostered application and perseverance, by accustoming their -readers to what the French term _des ouvrages de longue haleine_. After -resolutely mastering Clelia, nobody could pretend to quail at the aspect -of Mezeray, or even at that of Holinshed's Chronicle printed in black -letter. Clarendon, Burnet, and Rapin, had not yet issued into daylight." - -With the foregoing extract (and all critics should get rid of their bile -as quickly as they can) all that is unpleasant is at rest. Let us give -the following feeling, beautiful anecdote. - -"The name of another young friend will excite more attention--Mrs. Anne -Wortley. _Mrs._ Anne has a most mature sound to our modern ears; but, -in the phraseology of those days, _Miss_, which had hardly yet ceased -to be a term of reproach, still denoted childishness, flippancy, or -some other contemptible quality, and was rarely applied to young ladies -of a respectable class. In Steele's Guardian, the youngest of Nestor -Ironside's wards, aged fifteen, is Mrs. Mary Lizard. Nay, Lady Bute -herself could remember having been styled Mrs. Wortley, when a child, -by two or three elderly visitors, as tenacious of their ancient modes -of speech as of other old fashions. Mrs. Anne, then, was the second -daughter of Mr. Sidney[20] Wortley Montagu, and the favourite sister of -his son Edward. She died in the bloom of youth, unmarried. Lady Mary, -in common with others who had known her, represented her as eminently -pretty and agreeable; and her brother so cherished her memory, that, -in after times, his little girl knew it to be the highest mark of his -favour, when, pointing at herself, he said to her mother, "Don't you -think she grows like my poor sister Anne?" - -[20] Second son of Admiral Montagu, first Earl of Sandwich. Upon -marrying the daughter and heiress of Sir Francis Wortley, he was obliged -by the tenour of Sir Francis's will to assume his name. - -Lady Mary had Lord Byron's fate. She wrote a journal of her life; she -became the historian of her own genius, her youthful love, and her young -trials. It chanced to be her fate, that the one into whose hands her -manuscript fell, considered it her duty (wisely and affectionately, -or not, is immaterial for our purposes) to doom it to be a work of -destruction. It is hard for genius that it cannot find an executor who -regards the future in preference to the present; who cannot absolve -himself from immediate ties, living incumbrances, pressing prejudices, -conceived personalities,--to yield immortality its due!--who, in fact, -in the blindness of temporary fears and temporary associations, classes -that which he holds, erringly as that of the age,--which should be, and -in its spirit was destined to be, "for all time." We have mentioned two -immortal names; and before we pass into the three volumes, we cannot -help endeavouring to connect them in the minds of our readers, as they -are by their spirit connected in ours. Lord Byron was a moody, fiery, -brooding child,--full of passion, obstinacy, and irregularity, in his -teens;--Lady Mary was a single-thinking, classical, daring, inspired -girl long under one-and-twenty. Lord Byron at a plunge formed his own -spreading circles on the glittering still-life lake of fashionable -society: Lady Mary with her beauty and her genius effected the same -result by the same impetuosity. Lady Mary made, as it would appear, -a cold unsatisfactory marriage, but, it must be admitted, with one -possessed of a patience untainted by genius:--Lord Byron iced himself -into the connubial state, but shuddered at its coldness. The press, and -the poets, and the prosers united with serene ferocity against both. -Both, alas! were - - "Souls made of fire and children of the sun, - With whom revenge was virtue!" - -Their revenge was mutual-minded. Misunderstood, calumniated, they -quitted the land which was not worthy of them. Genius-borne, they both -passed to the east; and to them we owe the most sensible,--the most -passioned,--the most voluptuous,--and the most inspired pictures of -"the land of the citron and myrtle," that have ever waked the wish and -melted the heart of us southron readers. A mysterious divorcement from -the marital partner marked the absence--the long last absence--of each! -Mind-banished,--person-expatriated,--they vented upon their country -that revenge of which injured genius can alone be capable. And looking -at the calumnies upon the one, and the female animosities towards the -other,--regarding the banishment of mental beauty and magic power in -both,--we cannot better convey to our readers the revenge which genius -gave, and must ever give, than by making a common cause of the two, and -explaining it in the inimitable lines of the one. - - "And if my voice break forth, 'tis not that now - I shrink from what is suffered; let him speak - Who hath beheld decline upon my brow, - Or seen my mind's convulsion leave it weak - But in this page a record will I seek. - - Not in the air shall these my words disperse, - Tho' I be ashes; a far hour shall wreak - The deep prophetic fullness of this verse, - And pile on human heads the mountain of my curse. - That curse shall be _forgiveness_!"-- - -This is indeed the inspiration of forgiveness. We feel an awe after -reading this humane and lofty imprecation, which calls for a pause. -There is the same feeling upon us from which we cannot escape, as -that to which we are subject when we wander under the arched roof and -sculptured aisles,--in the breathing, breathless, cathedral silence,--in -the awful stone repose,--in the contemplation of - - "The uplifted palms, the silent marble lips!" - -The similarity between the genius of Byron and that of Lady Mary, and -their fates,--except as to the death and duration of life of the two, -(the one dying at the age of thirty-seven, and the other at the age of -seventy-three,--a sad and strange reverse figures!)--are singularly -interesting and affecting. The one,--sexually to distinguish them,--was -_Rousseau_ with a heart,--the other _De Staël_ with one.--But we grow -serious, critical, and minute. We are not certain that we are not -growing anatomical. We shall therefore enter upon our _conversazione_ -with our charming, high-born, easy caftan,--Minerva,--Lady Mary Wortley -Montagu! - -We pass silently over her biography, and at once commence with the -unmarried _Lady Mary Pierrepont_ and the married Montagu! What can be -livelier than the following York picture. It is _Hogarthian_!--and let -it not be forgotten that the lady was only twenty, and unwedded. - - - "TO MRS. WORTLEY. "1710. - "I RETURN you a thousand thanks, - my dear, for so agreeable an entertainment as your - letter in our cold climate, where the sun appears - unwillingly--Wit is as wonderfully pleasing as a - sun-shiny day; and, to speak poetically, Phoebus - is very sparing of all his favours. I fancied your - letter an emblem of yourself: in some parts I found the - softness of your voice, and in others the vivacity of - your eyes: you are to expect no return but humble and - hearty thanks, yet I can't forbear entertaining you - with our York lovers. (Strange monsters you'll think, - love being as much forced up here as melons.) In the - first form of these creatures, is even Mr. Vanbrug. - Heaven, no doubt, compassionating our dulness, has - inspired him with a passion that make us all ready to - die with laughing: 'tis credibly reported that he is - endeavouring at the honourable state of matrimony, - and vows to lead a sinful life no more. Whether pure - holiness inspires the mind, or dotage turns his - brain, is hard to find. 'Tis certain he keeps Monday - and Thursday market (_assembly_ day) constantly; and - for those that don't regard worldly muck, there's - extraordinary good choice indeed. I believe last Monday - there were two hundred pieces of woman's flesh (fat - and lean): but you know Van's taste was always odd: - his inclination to ruins has given him a fancy for - Mrs. Yarborough: he sighs and ogles so, that it would - do your heart good to see him; and she is not a little - pleased in so small a proportion of men amongst such a - number of women, that a whole man should fall to her - share. My dear, adieu, My service to Mr. Congreve. - "M. P." - -There is a charming poem by Lady Mary, which is singularly supported -by her letters. It certainly acknowledges a love of pleasure which -is not "quite correct;" but it is so unaffected,--so melodious,--so -heartfelt,--so confiding,--that we could read it, and read it, "for ever -and a day!" - - - - - "THE LOVER: A BALLAD. - "TO MR. CONGREVE. - - "At length, by so much importunity press'd, - Take, Congreve, at once the inside of my breast. - This stupid indiff'rence so often you blame, - Is not owing to nature, to fear, or to shame: - I am not as cold as a virgin in lead, - Nor are Sunday's sermons so strong in my head: - I know but too well how time flies along, - That we live but few years, and yet fewer are young. - - But I hate to be cheated, and never will buy - Long years of repentance for moments of joy. - Oh! was there a man (but where shall I find - Good sense and good nature so equally join'd?) - Would value his pleasure, contribute to mine; - Not meanly would boast, nor lewdly design; - Not over severe, yet not stupidly vain, - For I would have the power, though not give the pain. - - No pedant, yet learned; no rake-helly gay, - Or laughing, because he has nothing to say; - To all my whole sex obliging and free, - Yet never be fond of any but me; - In public preserve the decorum that's just, - And shew in his eyes he is true to his trust! - Then rarely approach, and respectfully bow, - But not fulsomely pert, nor yet foppishly low. - - But when the long hours of public are past, - And we meet with champaign and a chicken at last, - May every fond pleasure that moment endear; - Be banish'd afar both discretion and fear! - Forgetting or scorning the airs of the crowd, - He may cease to be formal, and I to be proud, - Till lost in the joy, we confess that we live, - And he may be rude, and yet I may forgive. - - And that my delight may be solidly fix'd, - Let the friend and the lover be handsomely mix'd; - In whose tender bosom my soul may confide, - Whose kindness can soothe me, whose counsel can guide. - From such a dear lover as hero I describe, - No danger should fright me, no millions should bribe; - But till this astonishing creature I know, - As I long have liv'd chaste, I will keep myself so. - - I never will share with the wanton coquette, - Or be caught by a vain affectation of wit. - The toasters and songsters may try all their art, - But never shall enter the pass of my heart. - I loathe the lewd rake, the dress'd fopling despise: - Before such pursuers the nice virgin flies; - And as Ovid has sweetly in parable told, - We harden like trees, and like rivers grow cold." - -This delightful epistle to Congreve appears to have been written -at the time she resided at Twickenham,--lured there by the quiet -and loveliness of that classic spot, and the fascination of Pope's -society. The following letter would seem to confirm the sincerity of -these racy verses;--and the presence of "Doctor Swift and Johnny Gay," ---ballad-writing too,--must have had some influence over the pen of the -poetess. - - - "TO THE COUNTESS OF MAR. - "Twickenham, 17--. - "DEAR SISTER,--I WAS very glad - to hear from you, though there was something in your - letters very monstrous and shocking. I wonder with - what conscience you can talk to me of your being an - old woman; I beg I may hear no more on't. For my part - I pretend to be as young as ever, and really am as - young as needs to be, to all intents and purposes. I - attribute all this to your living so long at Chatton, - and fancy a week at Paris will correct such wild - imaginations, and set things in a better light. My cure - for lowness of spirits is not drinking nasty water, but - galloping all day, _and a moderate glass of champaign - at night in good company_; and I believe this regimen, - closely followed, is one of the most wholesome that - can be prescribed, and may save one a world of filthy - doses, and more filthy doctor's fees at the year's - end. I rode to Twickenham last night, and, after so - long a stay in town, am not sorry to find myself in - my garden; our neighbourhood is something improved by - the removal of some old maids, and the arrival of some - fine gentlemen, amongst whom are Lord Middleton and - Sir J. Gifford, who are, perhaps, your acquaintances: - they live with their aunt, Lady Westmoreland, and we - endeavour to make the country agreeable to one another. - - "Doctor Swift and Johnny Gay are at Pope's, - and their conjunction has produced a ballad,[21] which, - if nobody else has sent you, I will, being never better - pleased than when I am endeavouring to amuse my dear - sister, and ever yours, - "M. W. M." - -[21] Published in Swift's Works. - -What a picture we have of Mrs. Lowther! How the _Mall_ is revived with -its strollers of fashion and beauty! - - "I am yet in this wicked town, - but purpose to leave it as soon as the parliament - rises. Mrs. Murray and all her satellites have so - seldom fallen in my way, I can say little about them. - Your old friend Mrs. Lowther is still fair and young, - _and in pale pink every night in the parks_." - -To the name of Mrs. Lowther is appended the following note,--and we do -not know that we ever remember an anecdote, _in years_, better set off. - - "Mrs. Lowther was a respectable - woman, single, and, as it appears by the text, not - willing to own herself middle-aged. Another lady - happened to be sitting at breakfast with her when an - awkward country lad, new in her service, brought word - that 'there was one as begged to speak to her.'--'What - is his name?'--'Don't know.'--'What sort of person? - a gentleman?'--'Can't say rightly.'--'Go and ask him - his business.'--The fellow returned grinning. 'Why, - madam, he says as how--he says he is--'--'Well, what - does he say, fool?'--'He says he is one as dies for - your ladyship.'--'Dies for me! exclaimed the lady, the - more incensed from seeing her friend inclined to laugh - as well as her footman,--'was there ever such a piece - of insolence! Turn him out of my house this minute. - And hark ye, shut the door in his face.' The clown - obeyed; but going to work more roughly than John Bull - will ever admit of, produced a scuffle that disturbed - the neighbours and called in the constable. At last - the audacious lover, driven to explain himself, proved - nothing worse than an honest tradesman, a dyer, whom - her ladyship often employed to refresh her old gowns." - -Can the following _trifle_ of whipt fashion and satire be surpassed even -by the pointed and light pleasantries of Walpole? - - "Cavendish-square, 1727. "My - Lady Stafford[22] set out towards France this morning, - and has carried half the pleasures of my life along - with her; I am more stupid than I can describe, and - am as full of moral reflections as either Cambray or - Pascal. I think of nothing but the nothingness of the - good things of this world, the transitoriness of its - joys, the pungency of its sorrows, and many discoveries - that have been made these three thousand years, and - committed to print ever since the first erecting of - presses. I advise you, as the best thing you can do - that day, let it happen as it will, to visit Lady - Stafford: she has the goodness to carry with her a - true-born Englishwoman, who is neither good nor bad, - nor capable of being either; Lady Phil Prat by name, - of the Hamilton family, and who will be glad of your - acquaintance, and you can never be sorry for hers.[23] - - "Peace or war, cross or pile, makes all - the conversation; this town never was fuller, and, God - be praised, some people _brille_ in it who _brilled_ - twenty years ago. My cousin Buller is of that number, - who is just what she was in all respects when she - inhabited Bond-street. The sprouts of this age are - such green withered things, 'tis a great comfort to - us grown up people: I except my own daughter, who is - to be the ornament of the ensuing court. I beg you - will exact from Lady Stafford a particular of her - perfections, which would sound suspected from my hand; - at the same time I must do justice to a little twig - belonging to my sister Gower. Miss Jenny is like the - Duchess of Queensberry both in face and spirit. _A - propos_ of family affairs: I had almost forgot our - dear and amiable cousin Lady Denbigh, who has blazed - out all this winter; she has brought with her from - Paris cart-loads of riband, surprising fashion, and - of a complexion of the last edition, which naturally - attracts all the she and he fools in London; and - accordingly she is surrounded with a little court of - both, and keeps a Sunday assembly to shew she has - learned to play at cards on that day. Lady Frances - Fielding[24] is really the prettiest woman in town, and - has sense enough to make one's heart ache to see her - surrounded with such fools as her relations are. The - man in England that gives the greatest pleasure, and - the greatest pain, is a youth of royal blood, with all - his grandmother's beauty, wit and good qualities. In - short, he is Nell Gwin in person, with the sex altered, - and occasions such fracas amongst the ladies of - gallantry that it passes description. You'll stare to - hear of her Grace of Cleveland at the head of them.[25] - If I was poetical I would tell you-- - -[22] Claude Charlotte, daughter of Philibert, Count of Grammont (author -of the celebrated Memoirs), and "La Belle Hamilton," eldest daughter of -Sir George Hamilton, Bart. was married to Henry Stafford Howard, Earl of -Stafford, at St. Germain's-en-laye, 1694. - -[23] Lady Philippa Hamilton, daughter of James Earl of Abercorn, and -wife of Dr. Pratt, Dean of Downe. - -[24] Youngest daughter of Basil, fourth Earl of Denbigh; married to -Daniel, seventh Earl of Winchelsea; died Sept, 17, 1734. - -[25] Anne, daughter of Sir W. Pulteney of Misterton, in the county of -Stafford; remarried to Philip Southcote, Esq. Died in 1746. - - "The god of love, enrag'd to see - The nymph despise his flame, - At dice and cards misspend her nights, - And slight a nobler game; - - "For the neglect of offers past - And pride in days of yore, - He kindles up a fire at last, - That burns her at threescore. - - "A polish'd wile is smoothly spread - Where whilome wrinkles lay; - And, glowing with an artful red, - She ogles at the play. - - "Along the Mall she softly sails, - In white and silver drest; - Her neck expos'd to Eastern gales, - And jewels on her breast. - - "Her children banish'd, age forgot, - Lord Sidney is her care; - And, what is a much happier lot, - Has hopes to be her _heir_. - - "This is all true history, though - it is doggerel rhyme: in good earnest she has - turned Lady D---- and family out of doors to make room - for him, and there he lies like leaf-gold upon a pill; - there never was so violent and so indiscreet a passion. - Lady Stafford says nothing was ever like it, since - Phædra and Hippolitus.--'Lord ha' mercy upon us! See - what we may all come to!' - "M. W. M." - -Again--the following words are as colours taken from the pallet of a Sir -Joshua: - - "Cavendish-square, 1727. - - "I cannot deny, but that I was very well diverted on - the Coronation day. I saw the procession much at my - ease, in a house which I filled with my own company, - and then got into Westminster-hall without trouble, - where it was very entertaining to observe the variety - of airs that all meant the same thing. The business - of every walker there was to conceal vanity and - gain admiration. For these purposes some languished - and others strutted; but a visible satisfaction was - diffused over every countenance, as soon as the - coronet was clapped on the head. But she that drew the - greatest number of eyes, was indisputably Lady Orkney. - She exposed behind a mixture of fat and wrinkles; - and before, a very considerable protuberance which - preceded her. Add to this, the inimitable roll of her - eyes, and her grey hairs, which by good fortune stood - directly upright, and 'tis impossible to imagine a - more delightful spectacle. She had embellished all this - with considerable magnificence, which made her look as - big again as usual; and I should have thought her one - of the largest things of God's making if my Lady St. - J**n had not displayed all her charms in honour of the - day. The poor Duchess of M***se _crept along with a - dozen of black snakes playing round her face_, and my - Lady P***nd (who is fallen away since her dismission - from court) represented very finely an Egyptian mummy - embroidered over with hieroglyphics." - -Lady Mary read, and of course loved, the writings of Fielding. He was -related to her. She had in her service a Fanny at the time she read -Joseph Andrews, and thus she writes of her: - - "TO THE COUNTESS OF BUTE. - - "Venice, Oct. 1, N. S. 1748. "MY DEAR CHILD,--I have - at length received the box, with the books enclosed, - for which I give you many thanks, as they amused me - very much. I gave a very ridiculous proof of it, fitter - indeed for my grand-daughter than myself. I returned - from a party on horseback: and after having rode twenty - miles, part of it by moonshine, it was ten at night - when I found the box arrived. I could not deny myself - the pleasure of opening it; and falling upon Fielding's - works, was fool enough to sit up all night reading. - I think Joseph Andrews better than his Foundling. - I believe I was the more struck with it, having at - present a Fanny in my own house, not only by the name, - which happens to be the same, but the extraordinary - beauty, joined with an understanding yet more - extraordinary at her age, which is but few months past - sixteen: she is in the post of my chambermaid. I fancy - you will tax my discretion for taking a servant thus - qualified; but my woman, who is also my housekeeper, - was always teizing me with her having too much work, - and complaining of ill health, which determined me to - take her a deputy; and when I was at Louvere, where - I drank the waters, one of the most considerable - merchants there pressed me to take this daughter of - his: her mother has an uncommon good character, and - the girl has had a better education than is usual for - those of her rank; she writes a good hand, and has - been brought up to keep accounts, which she does to - great perfection; and had herself such a violent desire - to serve me, that I was persuaded to take her: I do - not yet repent it from any part of her behaviour. But - there has been no peace in the family ever since she - came into it; I might say the parish, all the women - in it having declared open war with her, and the men - endeavouring all treaties of a different sort: my own - woman puts herself at the head of the first party, and - her spleen is increased by having no reason for it. The - young creature is never stirring from my apartment, - always at her needle, and never complaining of any - thing. You will laugh at this tedious account of my - domestics (if you have patience to read it over), but I - have few other subjects to talk of." - -Nothing can be livelier or happier than the following agreeable outbreak -at Lady J. Wharton lavishing herself away upon one unworthy her. - - "Lady J. Wharton is to be married - to Mr. Holt, which I am sorry for;--to see a - young woman that I really think one of the agreeablest - girls upon earth so vilely misplaced--but where are - people matched!--I suppose we shall all come right in - Heaven; as in a country dance, the hands are strangely - given and taken, while they are in motion, at last all - meet their partners when the jig is done." - -The observations on Richardson are a little too harsh,--but the sobbing -over his works is a compliment which no criticism could dry up. - - "This Richardson is a strange - fellow. I heartily despise him, and eagerly read him, - nay, sob over his works, in a most scandalous manner. - The two first tomes of Clarissa touched me, as being - very resembling to my maiden days; and I find in the - pictures of Sir Thomas Grandison and his lady, what I - have heard of my mother, and seen of my father." - -Time having made us wiser than _the Wortley_, it is amusing to see her -guessing at and confounding authors and their works. - - "TO THE COUNTESS OF BUTE. - "Louvere, June 23, 1754. "MY DEAR CHILD,--I have - promised you some remarks on all the books I have - received. I believe you would easily forgive my not - keeping my word; however, I shall go on. The Rambler - is certainly a strong misnomer; he always plods in - the beaten road of his predecessors, following the - Spectator (with the same pace a pack-horse would do - a hunter) in the style that is proper to lengthen a - paper. These writers may, perhaps, be of service to the - public, which is saying a great deal in their favour. - There are numbers of both sexes who never read anything - but such productions, and cannot spare time, from - doing nothing, to go through a sixpenny pamphlet. Such - gentle readers may be improved by a moral hint, which, - though repeated over and over, from generation to - generation, they never heard in their lives. I should - be glad to know the name of this laborious author. H. - Fielding has given a true picture of himself and his - first wife, in the characters of Mr. and Mrs. Booth, - some compliments to his own figure excepted; and, I am - persuaded, several of the incidents he mentions are - real matters of fact. I wonder he does not perceive - Tom Jones and Mr. Booth are sorry scoundrels. All this - sort of books have the same fault, which I cannot - easily pardon, being very mischievous. They place a - merit in extravagant passions, and encourage young - people to hope for impossible events, to draw them out - of the misery they choose to plunge themselves into, - expecting legacies from unknown relations, and generous - benefactors to distressed virtue, as much out of nature - as fairy treasures. Fielding has really a fund of true - humour, and was to be pitied at his first entrance into - the world, having no choice, as he said himself, but to - be a hackney writer, or a hackney coachman. His genius - deserved a better fate: but I cannot help blaming - that continued indiscretion, to give it the softest - name, that has run through his life, and I am afraid - still remains. I guessed R. Random to be his, though - without his name. I cannot think Ferdinand Fathom - wrote by the same hand, it is every way so much below - it. Sally Fielding has mended her style in her last - volume of David Simple, which conveys a useful moral, - though she does not seem to have intended it: I mean, - shews the ill consequences of not providing against - casual losses, which happen to almost everybody. Mrs. - Orgueil's character is well drawn, and is frequently to - be met with. The Art of Tormenting, the Female Quixote, - and Sir C. Goodville, are all sale work. I suppose - they proceed from her pen, and I heartily pity her, - constrained by her circumstances to seek her bread by - a method, I do not doubt, she despises. Tell me who is - that accomplished countess she celebrates. I left no - such person in London; nor can I imagine who is meant - by the English Sappho mentioned in Betsy Thoughtless, - whose adventures, and those of Jemmy Jessamy, gave me - some amusement. I was better entertained by the valet, - who very fairly represents how you are bought and sold - by your servants. I am now so accustomed to another - manner of treatment, it would be difficult to me to - suffer them: his adventures have the uncommon merit - of ending in a surprising manner. The general want of - invention which reigns among our writers inclines me - to think it is not the natural growth of our island, - which has not sun enough to warm the imagination. The - press is loaded by the servile flock of imitators. - Lord Bolingbroke would have quoted Horace in this - place. Since I was born, no original has appeared - excepting Congreve, and Fielding, who would, I believe, - have approached nearer to his excellencies, if not - forced, by necessity, to publish without correction, - and throw many productions into the world, he would - have thrown into the fire, if meat could have been - got without money, or money without scribbling. The - greatest virtue, justice, and the most distinguishing - prerogative of mankind, writing, when duly executed, - do honour to human nature; but, when degenerated into - trades, are the most contemptible ways of getting - bread. I am sorry not to see any more of Peregrine - Pickle's performances; I wish you would tell me his - name!" - -An ancestor of Lord Moira was capable of making a nice distinction: - - "I cannot believe Sir John's - advancement is owing to his merit, tho' he certainly - deserves such a distinction; but I am persuaded the - present disposers of such dignitys are neither more - clear-sighted, or more disinterested than their - predecessors. Even since I knew the world, Irish - patents have been hung out to sale, like the laced - and embroidered coats in Monmouth-street, and bought - up by the same sort of people; I mean those who had - rather wear shabby finery than no finery at all; though - I don't suppose this was Sir John's case. That _good - creature_, (as the country saying is,) has not a bit - of pride about him. I dare swear he purchased his - title for the same reason he used to purchase pictures - in Italy; not because he wanted to buy, but because - somebody or other wanted to sell. He hardly ever opened - his mouth but to say 'What you please, sir;'--'Your - humble servant;' or some gentle expression to the same - effect. It is scarce credible that with this unlimited - complaisance he should draw a blow upon himself; yet - it so happened that one of his own countrymen was - brute enough to strike him. As it was done before many - witnesses, Lord Mansel heard of it; and thinking that - if poor Sir John took no notice of it, he would suffer - daily insults of the same kind, out of pure good nature - resolved to spirit him up, at least to some shew of - resentment, intending to make up the matter afterwards - in as honourable a manner as he could for the poor - patient. He represented to him very warmly that no - gentleman could take a box on the ear. Sir John - answered with great calmness, 'I know that, but this - was not a box on the ear, it was only a slap o' the - face.'" - -The following is a smart sketch--perhaps a little too piquant: - - "Next to the great ball, what - makes the most noise is the marriage of an old maid, - who lives in this street, without a portion, to a man - of 7,000_l._ _per annum_, and they say 40,000_l._ in - ready money. Her equipage and liveries outshine any - body's in town. He has presented her with 3,000_l._ - in jewels; and never was man more smitten with these - charms that had lain invisible for these forty years; - but, with all his glory, never bride had fewer enviers, - the dear beast of a man is so filthy, frightful, - odious, and detestable. I would turn away such a - footman for fear of spoiling my dinner, while he waited - at table. They were married on Friday, and came to - church _en parade_ on Sunday. I happened to sit in - the pew with them, and had the honour of seeing Mrs. - Bride fall fast asleep in the middle of the sermon, and - snore very comfortably; which made several women in the - church think the bridegroom not quite so ugly as they - did before. Envious people say 'twas all counterfeited - to please him, but I believe that to be scandal; for I - dare swear, nothing but downright necessity could make - her miss one word of the sermon. He professes to have - married her for her devotion, patience, meekness, and - other Christian virtues he observed in her: his first - wife (who has left no children) being very handsome, - and so good-natured as to have ventured her own - salvation to secure his. He has married this lady to - have a companion in that paradise where his first has - given him a title. I believe I have given you too much - of this couple; but they are not to be comprehended in - few words. - - "My dear Mrs. Hewet, remember me and - believe that nothing can put you out of my head." - -The noble dukes of the present day, and the learned members of the -faculty, are by no means of so sportive a turn as they were in the -goodly times of Mrs. Hewet. We confess we should like to have to get up -some fine morning to be in St. James's Park in time to see some such -elegant struggle between the Duke of Devonshire and Sir Henry Halford as -the following: - - "There is another story that I - had from a hand I dare depend upon. The Duke of Grafton - and Dr. Garth ran a foot-match in the Mall of 200 - yards, and the latter, to his immortal glory, beat." - -With a strong turn for building herself, Lady Mary makes some sensible -remarks on its folly in others. - - "Building is the general - weakness of old people; I have had a twitch of it - myself, though certainly it is the highest absurdity, - and as sure a proof of dotage as pink-coloured ribands, - or even matrimony. Nay, perhaps, there is more to be - said in defence of the last; I mean in a childless - old man; he may prefer a boy born in his own house, - though he knows it is not his own, to disrespectful or - worthless nephews or nieces. But there is no excuse for - beginning an edifice he can never inhabit, or probably - see finished. The Duchess of Marlborough used to - ridicule the vanity of it, by saying one might always - live upon other people's follies: yet you see she built - the most ridiculous house I ever saw, since it really - is not habitable, from the excessive damps; so true it - is, the things that we would do, those do we not, and - the things we would not do, those do we daily. I feel - in myself a proof of this assertion, being much against - my will at Venice, though I own it is the only great - town where I can properly reside, yet here I find so - many vexations, that, in spite of all my philosophy, - and (what is more powerful,) my phlegm, I am oftner - out of humour than among my plants and poultry in the - country. I cannot help being concerned at the success - of iniquitous schemes, and grieve for oppressed merit. - You, who see these things every day, think me as - unreasonable, in making them matter of complaint, as - if I seriously lamented the change of seasons. You - should consider I have lived almost a hermit ten years, - and the world is as new to me as to a country girl - transported from Wales to Coventry. I know I ought to - think my lot very good, that can boast of some sincere - friends among strangers." - -But we must put an end to this agreeable conference,--though we think, -that if we could for ever listen to such vivid gossip, we should never -grow old. We had intended to have treated of the romantic intimacy, -and subsequent determined hatred, that existed between Lady Mary and -Pope; but our limits warn us that we must not indulge in a lengthy -discussion of the subject. She, it is clear, was flattered by his wit -and his mental beauty. In him real passion took root. His advances -she appears to have repulsed, and he was thus suddenly driven to the -galling contemplation of his own person, and he at once from the adoring -poet became the "Deformed Transformed" into hate itself. Byron never -forgave an allusion to his lameness. The separation of Mr. Wortley from -his accomplished wife still remains unexplained; but it is clear that -kindly and respectful feelings were preserved unblemished between them; -and there is a delicate tenderness in each towards the other in the -veriest trifles, which shows how feeble a thing is absence over sincere -affections. We are rather surprised that no letters from Lady Mary to -her grand-daughter Lady Jane, (one of the daughters of the Countess of -Bute,) have not straggled into print. How beautifully must she have -written to children, and particularly to such a child as Lady Jane -appears to have been! The letters, however, we fear are lost. - -If we might be permitted to adopt a new manner of life, and to pitch -our tent in whatever part of his Majesty's dominions we pleased,--we -have no hesitation in saying that we should lose no time in directing -_those people_, however respectable they may be, who inhabit Strawberry -Hill, to _get out_! We should then send down by the Twickenham carrier -complete sets of the works of Pope, Swift, Johnny Gay, and the dear -Arbuthnot,--of the Letters of Horace Walpole, of Lady Mary Wortley -Montagu, Pepys' Memoirs, Evelyn's Memoirs, Shakspeare, and some other -works of trifling interest,--begging they may be placed in _that_ little -library with the stained glass. We should then Ourselves go down!--have -a comfortable annuity from government, and a moderate handful of -servants from the neighbourhood; and there we would pass away our life, -"from morn to noon,--from noon to dewy eve,--a summer's day!" This -plan has something in it so modest and reasonable, that we cannot help -thinking it will attract the attention of the existing ministry, and in -the end be realized! - - - - - A LAMENT OVER THE BANNISTER. - - And have we lost thee!--has the monarch grim - To his dull court borne off the child of whim! - And art thou gone, _Oldboy_?[26] thou brave and good - _Protector_[27] of the _Children in the Wood_? - - Then has the _World's_ great _Echo_[28] died away; - Out of his time th' _Apprentice_[29] could not stay: - The _Squib_'s[30] gone off, extinguish'd ev'ry spark, - And Momus mourns his region left so dark. - - How oft, exulting, have we view'd the _Moor_[31] - For Christian captives open Freedom's door; - We've stared to hear the _Valet_'s[32] ready fib, - And shudder'd when the _Cobbler_[33] strapp'd his rib. - - How, when Barbadoes' merry bells did ring, - We've smiled to see thee _Trudge_[34] and hear thee sing; - Thy _Ben_[35] and _Dory_[36] were of right true blue, - Thy _Sheva_[37] warm'd us to respect a _Jew_. - - To _Feign well_[38] thou indeed couldst make pretence, - Thy brilliant eye was all intelligence; - In thee we lost the flow'r of _City youths_,[39] - And now no _Lenitive_[40] our sorrow soothes. - - We care not whether tithes be paid or left, - Since of our _Acres_[41] we have been bereft; - We dread Spring Rice's yearly fiscal bore, - But grieve _Thy Budget_[42] can be heard no more. - - Great Garrick's pet,--an ancient fav'rite's son,-- - Upon the stage thy public course was run, - Tho', in thy youth, a painter; and, as man, - Thou didst draw houses in a _Caravan_[43]. - - And well thou couldst support a _Storm_[44], but Gout - Life's _little farthing rushlight_[45] has blown out: - Thou'rt gone, and from all further ills art screen'd, - For thou didst follow _Conscience, not the Fiend_[46]. - - Mourn'd in public and private, thou wouldst not come back; - "_Be quiet! I know it_"[47]--thou 'rt happier, Jack! J.S. - -[26] Colonel Oldboy in Lionel and Clarissa. - -[27] Walter The Children in the Wood. - -[28] Echo The World. - -[29] Dick The Apprentice. - -[30] Sam Squib Past Ten o'Clock. - -[31] Sadi The Mountaineers. - -[32] Sharp The Lying Valet. - -[33] Jonson The Devil to Pay. - -[34] Trudge Inkle and Yarico. - -[35] Ben Love for Love. - -[36] John Dory Wild Oats. - -[37] Sheva The Jew. - -[38] Colonel Feignwell Bold Stroke for a Wife. - -[39] Young Philpot The Citizen. - -[40] Lenitive The Prize. - -[41] Acres The Rivals. - -[42] Bannister's Budget A Monodramatic Entertainment. - -[43] Blabbo The Caravan. - -[44] Storm Ella Rosenberg. - -[45] Little Farthing Rushlight A popular song sung by Bannister. - -[46] Lancelot Gobbo The Merchant of Venice. - -[47] Sir David Dunder Ways and Means. - - - - -THEATRICAL ADVERTISEMENT, EXTRAORDINARY. - - [ As we might reasonably be expected - to account for the possession of the following - document, we beg to state that it was put into our - hands by an unknown gentleman, who slipped unseen - into our _sanctum_, clothed in a whity-brown suit, - half-boots, and blue cotton stockings. The gentleman - apologized for the negligence of his attire, by stating - that he was in "reduced" circumstances. His employers, - he said, had hit upon an ingenious mode of reimbursing - themselves for the losses they sustained by trading - under the market price,--which was simply paying their - workmen one half of their wages, and owing them the - other. On our inquiring with great sympathy, whether he - was not desirous to get the last-mentioned moiety, he - replied with real feeling, that he wished he might. He - then begged the loan of a small pinch of snuff, sighed - deeply, and withdrew.--ED. B. M. ] - -Messrs. Four, Two, and One, many years resident on the Surrey side of -the river Thames, beg most respectfully to announce to the play-going -public, that in consequence of the increasing demand for all sorts -of low-priced theatrical articles, they have at length succeeded in -securing and entering upon those large, commodious, and formerly -well-known high-priced premises situate in Drury-lane and Covent-garden; -and having by this arrangement prevented the possibility of competition, -they are determined to do business in future upon the Surrey-side system -only. To prove the sincerity of their intentions, Four, Two, and One -take this opportunity of making known to the directors of theatrical -establishments, that they have a number of hints ready cut and dried, -upon the necessity of a general reduction of the salaries of the -principal ENGLISH _artistes_, which will be found singularly useful to -managers taking a Continental trip for the purpose of securing FOREIGN -talent for the London market. - -F. T. and O. also recommend their celebrated elastic, self-acting, -portable, Anglo-Parisian pen, skilfully contrived to fit all hands, -and which enables the writer, after six lessons upon the Hamiltonian -system, to translate any French piece into _Surrey-side English_; -thereby superseding the necessity of employing and paying any author -or adapter who thinks it worth his while to embarrass himself with the -study of reading, writing, or any other abstruse or outlandish knowledge -whatsoever. - -F. T. and O. cannot conclude without returning their most sincere and -heartfelt thanks to the nobility, gentry, and friends of the drama -generally, by whom their endeavours have been so eminently patronized. -In particular, they should consider themselves guilty of the grossest -ingratitude, did they omit this occasion of acknowledging their -infinite obligations to the proprietors of the Patent establishments, -who (by their active zeal, and indefatigable industry in the great -cause of general reduction,) have placed Four, Two, and One, in their -present premises, and have thereby enforced and illustrated this -incontrovertible fact,--that Sheridan, Harris, and Colman were mere -humbugs and imposters compared with F. T. and O.; and, that during their -long and high-priced professional career, they did nothing to obtain or -preserve the protection of a candid and enlightened public. - - - - - THE ABBESS AND THE DUCHESS. - BY THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY. - - _Abbess._ - Who is knocking for admission - At the convent's outer gate? - Is it possible a lady - Can be wandering so late? - Let me see her through the lattice, - And her _story_ let me hear; - --Oh! your most obedient, madam; - May I ask what brings you here? - - _Duchess._ - You will very much applaud me, - When you hear what I have done; - I've been naughty,--I'm a penitent, - and want to be a nun. - I've been treated most unfairly, - Though 'tis said I am most fair; - I am rich, ma'am, and a duchess, - And my name's La Vallière. - - _Abbess._ - Get along, you naughty woman, - You'll contaminate us all; - When you touch'd the gate, I wonder - That the convent did not fall! - Stop! I think you mention'd money,-- - That is--penitence, I mean: - Let her in,--I'm _too_ indulgent;-- - Pray how are the king and queen? - - _Duchess._ - Lady Abbess, you delight me,-- - Oh! had Louis been as kind! - But he used me ungenteely, - To my fondness deaf and blind. - Oh! methinks that now I view him, - With his feathers in his hat!-- - Hem!--beg pardon--I'm aware, ma'am, - That I mustn't speak of _that_. - - _Abbess._ - Not by no means, madam, never; - _No_--you mustn't even _think_; - (Put your feet upon the fender, - And here's something warm to drink: - Is it strong enough?--pray stir it:) - What on earth _could_ make you go - From a palace to a convent? - Come,--I'm curious to know? - - _Duchess._ - Can you wonder, Lady Abbess?-- - At the change I should rejoice,-- - I of vanities was weary, - And a convent was my choice. - I have had a troubled conscience, - And court manners did condemn, - Ever since I saw King Louis - Making eyes at Madam _M_. - - _Abbess._ - Oh! I think I comprehend you: - But take care what you're about; - Though 'tis easy to get _in_ here, - 'Tan't so easy to get _out_: - You'll for beads resign your jewels, - And your robes for garments plain; - Ere you cut the world, remember - 'Tis not cut and come again! - - _Duchess._ - I am willing in a cloister - That my days and nights should pass; - --(This is very nice indeed, ma'am; - If you please, another glass)-- - As for courtiers, I'll hereafter - Lay the odious topic by; - Oh! their crooked ways enough are - For to turn a nun awry! - - _Abbess._ - Very proper: to the sisters - 'Twould be wrong to chatter thus; - Now and then, when snug and cosey, - 'Twill do very well for _us_. - It is strange how tittle-tattle - All about the convent spreads, - When the barber from the village - Comes to shave the sisters' heads. - - _Duchess._ - Do you really mean to tell me - I must lose my raven locks? - Then I'll tie 'em up with ribbon, - And I'll keep 'em in my box: - Oh! how Louis used to praise 'em! - Hem!--I think I'll go to bed.-- - Not another drop, I thank you,-- - It would get into my head. - - _Abbess._ - Benedicite! my daughter, - You'll be soon used to the place; - Though at meals our only duchess, - _You_ will have to say your grace: - And when none can interrupt us, - You of courtly scenes shall tell, - When I bring a drop of comfort - From my cellar to my cell! - - - - - EDWARD SAVILLE. - A TRANSCRIPT. BY CHARLES WHITEHEAD. - -The doctor tells me I must take no wine. Pshaw! It is not that which -mounts into my brain; and sometimes--but I must not wander--wine is the -best corrector of these fancies. One bottle more of sober claret, and -I shall be able to finish before midnight the brief sketch of my life -which I promised Travers long ago. - -It were worse than useless to set down any particulars of my boyhood. -An only son is usually a spoiled one, and that which is so easy -and delightful a task to most parents was by no means difficult or -unpleasant to mine; and yet, to do myself justice, I believe I was not -more conceited, insolent, selfish, and rapacious than others are during -those days of innocence, as they are called,--those days of innocence -which form the germ of that noble and disinterested creature, man. - -At the age of three-and-twenty I succeeded to my father's estate. It was -to divert a sense of loneliness which beset me, that I plunged into--as -they term it, but the phrase is a wrong one--that I ventured upon the -course of folly and dissipation into which so many young men of fortune -like myself hurry themselves, or are led, or are driven. But why recount -these scenes of pleasure--so called, or miscalled--whose reaction is -utter weariness, satiety, and disgust? - -I was at the theatre one night, when the friend who accompanied me -directed my attention to a very lovely girl, who, with her mother and -a party of friends, occupied the next box. She was, certainly, the -loveliest creature my eyes had ever lighted upon; with a sylph-like -form, (that is the usual phrase, I believe,) wanting perhaps that -complete roundness of limb which is considered essential to perfect -beauty in a woman--but she was barely sixteen--and yet suggesting, too, -the idea of consummate symmetry. Her face--but who can describe beauty? -who even can paint it? Let any man look at the finest attempts to -achieve this impossibility by the old masters, and then let him compare -them with the faces he has seen, and may see every day. Heavens! what -inanities! Can a man paint a soul upon canvass? And yet the artist talks -of his "expression." - -I watched her closely during the performance,--indeed, I had no power -to withdraw my gaze from her; and once or twice her eyes met mine, and -I thought I could perceive she was not altogether displeased at my -attention. Her confusion betrayed that to me, and in one short hour I -was a lost man. - -When the play was over, I framed a miserable excuse, which I thought -at the time a most ingenious one, to my friend for not accompanying -him home to supper, as I had promised; and hastening after my unknown -and her mother, who had left the box, was just in time to see them -enter a coach. I contrived to keep pace with it, and saw it deposit its -beautiful freight at a house in a small private street near Portman -Square. - -I could laugh--unaccustomed as I am even to private laughing -now-a-days--when I think, as I do sometimes, on those days of sentiment. -It were as futile to attempt to renew that sentiment after thirty, as -to strive to recal those days, and to bid them stand in next year's -calendar. The green wood is out of the tree by that time; and the trunk -becomes hard, and gnarled, and stubborn. Now is the time to enjoy life. -At five-and-thirty the blood and the brain act in concert, and the heart -beats not one pulse the quicker, while they do their spiriting--not -gently always.--To return. - -I went home that night altogether an altered man, and rose next -morning from a sleepless bed, absorbed with the one idea which had -worked so miraculous a change within me. All that day, almost without -intermission, did I pace up and down the street in the hope of seeing -her; but in vain. Not once did she approach the window; and I did not -deem it prudent to question one of the servants who came out of the -house several times during the day. I betook myself, therefore, towards -evening to a green-grocer's shop in the neighbourhood; and the purchase -of some fruit gave me a privilege to indulge in a little chat with the -good old woman who conducted the business. I affected to be chiefly -solicitous respecting the elderly lady, whom I had seen by chance, and -believed to be a friend of my father, but whose name I could not, for -the life of me, remember. The old woman smiled at my shallow artifice, -but proceeded to inform me that the elderly lady was the widow of an -officer who had been killed in the Peninsular War, leaving an only -daughter, at that period an infant. I begged pardon--the name? did she -know the daughter's name? - -"Oh yes! it was Isabella Denham." - -It was an era in my life, the first sound of that name. I thanked my -kind informant, and withdrew. - -I need not tell how unremittingly, and for how many weeks, I paced up -and down that street, with various success; how regularly I attended the -church she frequented; and how at length I obtained an introduction to -the family. - -I found Isabella Denham more captivating than the accumulated fancies -and self-willed convictions of months had pictured her to me. It is -no unusual result in such cases; but whether it be that the object -transcends the imagination, or that the imagination subserves the -object, I know not. It was so, however; for feeling upon these occasions -takes the place of reason, which is an impertinence. - -Let me be just. I think, had I loved Isabella Denham less, I should -equally have admired her. She had a mind and a heart; she was -accomplished; she was beautiful, gentle, and good; and she loved me. -Yes, she loved me. I believed it then, and I am certain of it now. How I -loved her, she never knew: that was for Time to show, and he has shown -it. - -I offered her my hand in due time, and was accepted. How I despised the -sneers and banter of some of my friends who could not conceive the idea -of a marriage with fortune on one side, and none on the other, and yet -were endeavouring at the same time to effect an engagement of a similar -nature in their own favour! How I disregarded the gratuitous advice of -sundry of my officious relatives, who thought that all love had died -when their own gave up the ghost, and who sometimes prophesied truly -because they were always prognosticating evil! - -We were at length married; and the close of the fourth year saw no -diminution of our happiness. We were domestic enough without seclusion, -and went into as much company as sufficed to make us feel that home -was the happiest place after all. One circumstance had contributed to -augment my felicity,--the birth of a son, which took place about a year -after our marriage. - -I know not what some people mean, who tell you that when a man becomes -married, love subsides into affection, and friendship takes the place -of passion. It was not so with me. I loved the wife as much as I had -adored the mistress. To make her happy was myself to be so; and to have -made her so, I would have laid down my life. Some, indeed, hinted that -I indulged her too much--that I let her have her own way in everything. -And why not? Did I marry to make my wife the creature, or the slave, -of some system of management, rule of action, or principle of conduct? -phrases which I abhor. No--no; be they as wise as they will, I was -right. I am convinced of it. _That_ was not the cause. We were happy. - -It was by the merest chance that I one day encountered Hastings in the -street--my friend Hastings. We had been companions at Eton, and at -college our intimacy had grown into friendship. Were I now asked for -what particular quality of mind or heart I had chosen Hastings for a -friend, I should find some difficulty in answering the question. He -was what is termed "a good-natured fellow;" there was nothing gross or -offensive in his gaiety, and he was always the same. His feelings never -led him to make a fool of himself which is much to say of a young man. -They might be called good _plated_ feelings, which answered the purpose -well enough, and sometimes passed for more costly articles. It is much, -after all, to possess a friend between whom and yourself you can drew -comparisons favourable to the latter, and who is perfectly content that -you should do so. - -He dined with me on the next day. His powers of conversation were -certainly much improved since we had last talked together. He could turn -the most superficial reading to admirable account; and so minute was -his observation, and so faithfully and graphically could he describe -manners, and the surface motives of men, that it almost appeared like a -profound knowledge of mankind. Isabella was pleased with his society; -and after she had retired to the drawing-room, my friend expatiated -somewhat at large upon her beauty and elegance, and, above all, upon -the good sense which characterised her. I need hardly say that I also -was delighted with him, and when we shook hands for the night, I could -have hugged the man for his glowing eulogy. I almost loved every one who -admired her. I was too weak--too weak. - -He visited us often, for his time was altogether his own. He was living -upon expectancy, and accordingly had more leisure than money. At various -periods I pressed him to make my purse his own, and he did so. I had, -indeed, more money at my disposal than I cared for, or knew what to do -with; and at that time I thought, when I served a friend, that I had -found the best employment of it. It is strange,--and yet perhaps it is -not by any means strange,--how men alter in this particular as they grow -older. The heart-strings and the purse-strings are not so easily drawn -then. - -Well, I was his banker, and felt myself sufficiently repaid by his -society. About this time, also, I was greatly occupied in business of a -somewhat troublesome nature, to conclude which it was necessary that -I should visit my estate. My probable term of absence was to be about -six weeks. The fashionable season was in its meridian, and I could not -be cruel enough to ask Isabella to accompany me. She had latterly taken -more pleasure in parties, and balls, and concerts than heretofore. -Perhaps I had kept her too close; we were too domestic. After all, it -was not the way of the world. I thought so, and Hastings agreed with -me;--I would see it reformed altogether when I return. - -In the mean while I begged Hastings to look in now and then, and -see that she was not lonely and out of spirits. It was natural to -expect that my first absence from her would cause her to feel so. He -promised to do as I requested, and I set off into the country, where -I was detained more than two months; and at length, finding myself -released from an irksome attendance on very unpleasant business, I took -post-horses, and with all the ardour of a lover returned to London. - -I returned to London.-- - -I remember the minutest particulars of that scene so well! Not a tittle -of it has escaped my memory--not a word, not a syllable! It will never -depart from my mind--from my soul! - -When the porter opened the door, I hastened through the hall, and sprang -up stairs into the drawing-room. She was not there; but my little boy, -hearing my well-known footstep, came from the adjoining room and ran -towards me. I caught him in my arms, and gave him a thousand kisses. - -"Well, my dear little fellow, and where is mamma?" - -"Not here--not here," said the boy, looking around; "but I'm so glad -you've come back!" - -Isabella was gone out, doubtless. I rang the bell. I did not observe -Mrs. Martin, the housekeeper, enter the room,--I was still caressing the -child. - -"Ha! Mrs. Martin--But what's the matter? You look ill.--Where is Mrs. -Saville?" - -The woman spoke not, but trembled violently, and turned very pale. I -motioned her to take a seat. She did so. - -"My dear madam, you alarm me," said I. "Is anything wrong--your -mistress----" - -Tears were streaming down the woman's face, as she arose suddenly, and -with her hands clasped before her she came towards me. - -"Oh, sir! bear it like a man," she cried, weeping bitterly;--"do bear -it like a man, sir! That I should live to tell you this!--I, who have -carried you in these arms, and have prayed a thousand times for your -happiness when I should be dead and gone!" - -She paused. Perhaps my face revealed the sickness of heart which at that -moment overcame me. I could not rise from my seat; I could not lift -the child from my knee, as he lay upon my bosom with his head pressed -against my heart. - -"Merciful Heaven!--Isabella is ill--she is dying!--at once, at once tell -me----" - -"No, no," said the woman bitterly, "she is not ill or dying. Mr. -Saville, I durst not tell you my suspicions before you left town--I -durst not, sir. For mercy's sake compose yourself! My mistress left this -house last Tuesday night with Mr. Hastings." - -That horrible shriek still rings in my ears. I remember thrusting the -child from me, and clasping my head with my hands; and then I was -smitten down--struck to the earth--worse than dead--oh, how much worse -than dead! - -It was a long, long, hideous dream that succeeded, full of woe, and -lamentations, and weeping, and curses, and despair. But I awoke at last -from that dream. Where was I? It was a very narrow, but lofty room; the -walls were whitewashed, and there was one small window about twelve feet -from the door. I was seated on a low truckle-bed; and as I turned my -eyes from the light of the window, they fell upon my hands, which were -laid before me. Around my wrists there were deep marks, as though they -had been tied together with cords; and when I moved, a sharp pain went -round me, like a girdle. But the rope had been loosened, and was no -longer about me. A man entered the room. - -"How do you feel yourself now?" said he, laying his hand upon my -shoulder. - -I looked up. Methought I recognised the voice, and the face was almost -familiar to me, and repulsively so. - -"I am well--very well," I answered. "Where am I?" - -The man said nothing, but silently left the room, presently returning -with a gentleman, of whom, as of the man, I had an indistinct -remembrance. - -"You will be better soon, sir," said this person kindly, as he felt my -pulse; and he turned towards the man, and spoke to him in an undertone. -"Let him he kept very quiet," was all I heard, and he retired shortly -after. - -Yes:--I had been mad--raving mad--for two years, and was now slowly -struggling back into consciousness. Feeble glimmerings of the past came -upon me at first, and then farther half-revelations were extended to me; -until at length _the cause_, dimly and remotely, but gradually nearer -and more near, stood before me like a curse. It is well for me that I -did not then relapse into madness; but I wrestled with it, I overcame -it, and in a month was taken away in my own physician's carriage, and -brought back home. Home?--that had been destroyed. - -My friend, Dr. Herbert, was, and is, the best fellow breathing. -He devoted for some weeks nearly the whole of his time to me. He -endeavoured to draw my mind away from the one subject, which might, he -thought, if entertained, once more overthrow my reason. He was mistaken. -The very endeavour to discard that memory, as often as it recurred, -would soon have distracted me. I encouraged it, therefore, and was -strengthened by it;--my mind throve upon it,--it was a comfort to me. - -The many slight indications of an attachment--of a passion--between -_her_ and this man Hastings,--and they must have been but slight -indications,--were presented to me now grossly and palpably. I could see -them all,--they stung me;--and I would curse my fool's nature that was -blind, or would not see and provide against the consequence. And why did -I curse my easy nature? Could I have borne to live a wretched turnkey, -a miserable listener at key-holes, a dealer out of "punishment, the -drudgery of devils?" Did I marry to suspect virtue, or to control vice? -Neither; and I was glad that, when they did wrong me, they permitted me -to know it. These thoughts never affected my brain;--there was no fear -of that. I thought no longer from the brain;--these thoughts were in my -heart, and never moved thence. - -One evening, as I was ascending the stairs, I overheard the child -inquiring of one of the servants "who that white-haired gentleman was, -and why he lived in the house?" I had hitherto refused to see the child; -but I now rang the bell, and ordered the housekeeper, who constantly -waited upon me, to bring him to me. - -He was much grown since I had last seen him, and was a fine boy. He did -not know me, and was at first fearful of approaching me; but I induced -him to sit upon my knee, and, putting his hair from the forehead, asked -him if he would not give me a kiss. As he lifted his face, and looked -up at me--that look! his very mother was gazing through those eyes! A -sudden faintness possessed me. I lifted the child gently from my knee, -and motioned the housekeeper to take him from my sight. I did not see -him again. - -But there was comfort still:--Hastings was in London,--I was certain of -it. - -And so he was. One night, about a fortnight after my return to town from -Paris, where I was told he had been seen, and where I had sought him in -vain, I was proceeding home, baffled in my endeavours to discover him in -some of his old haunts, which I had ascertained after many and fruitless -inquiries. I was walking rapidly down a miserable street in the vicinity -of Clare Market, when a squalid wretch, issuing from a public-house, -came in contact with me. I think no human being in the world would have -recognised him but myself. Hideously changed as he was, I knew him -instantly. The half-shriek that burst from him as he recoiled from me -showed that he had recognised me also. The struggle was a short one,--I -had omitted to put my pistols in my pocket on that evening. With what a -savage triumph, when I had dashed him on the pavement, did I stamp upon -the prostrate carcass of the groaning wretch! But my joy was brief; for -I was suddenly seized by three or four men, who held me firmly by the -arms. I could not get at him. Heedless of my ravings, they assisted the -miscreant to rise, who, casting one glance of terror towards me, darted -down an alley, and was lost to me for ever. He had escaped me. - -How I reached home I know not. Herbert, who visited me next morning, -forbade me to rise from my bed. He said my brain was unsettled, and I -believe it was. But I was well again in a month. - -The one idea pervaded my whole being when I arose from my bed. My -rencontre with Hastings had whetted my appetite for revenge so -keenly, that no reason, no thought, no feeling could control me. He -was evidently in a state of the most abject beggary and want. That -conviction did not disarm me; it rendered me only the more determined -and inflexible. - -I went forth one evening, and with much difficulty discovered the -public-house from which I had seen him emerge on _that_ night. From the -landlord I obtained every particular I required to know. Hastings had, -it seemed, changed his name;--it was now Harris. He resided in one small -room on the first floor of a house in a filthy court hard by; that is, -if he had not left the neighbourhood, for the man had not seen him for a -month past. - -It was well. I drank two glasses of brandy, for it was a cold night, -and proceeded towards my destination. I found it easily. There was a -light in the window, and, from the reflection of a man's figure on the -wall, I judged he was at home. The house-door was open, and I entered -the narrow passage. At that moment I trembled, and for an instant could -not proceed. No: it was not that which made me tremble; I knew, and was -prepared for, what I had to do. It was the other,--it was that face -which I feared I could not bear to behold. - -This was, as I have said, the weakness of a moment. I mounted the -stairs, and burst into the room suddenly. A man and a woman were seated -at a small fire, who arose abruptly on my entrance. It was not Harris -and--his wife. - -"Where is the man--Hastings?" I exclaimed, addressing the old couple. - -As I uttered these words, a loud shriek proceeded from a bed behind -me, and a female dropt upon the floor. I knew that voice,--I knew it -well;--but it did not move me. - -"Mrs. Harris is ill," said the old woman; "permit us to pass you, -sir;--it is one of the fits to which she is subject." - -I allowed the woman to step by me, who, raising the lifeless form beside -her, drew it into an adjoining room. - -"What do you want, sir? what is your business here?" inquired the man. - -I placed one hand into my coat-pocket and grasped a pistol, and with the -other seized the man by the collar. - -"Where is Harris?" said I. "You had best tell me; you are a dead man -else. He is hid somewhere--he is below, in the house--where is he?" - -"He is there," gasped the man; and he pointed towards the bed, upon -which a body was lying, covered with a linen cloth. - -I sank upon a chair. Hastings had indeed escaped me, and for ever. I was -left alone, for the man had hurried from the room. I cannot describe the -agony of feeling which I underwent during the next half-hour. I took the -light, and, walking to the bed, drew the linen cloth from the face of -the corpse. - -How awful! how mysterious is the power of death! The man who had -insulted, who had wronged, who had betrayed me,--whose ingratitude--of -all crimes the vilest and the basest--had inverted my very soul,--this -man lay before me cold, serene, tranquil, miserable, callously -insensible,--and yet I had no power to curse him. There was no serenity, -no tranquillity upon the face, when I gazed upon it more closely. The -brow was corrugated, the cheeks collapsed, and the eyelids sunken; and -there was the soul's torture, as it left a tortured body impressed upon -the face. Enough to have mitigated a more implacable hatred than mine! - -I left the room, and walked down stairs. As I proceeded along the -passage, the man whom I had before seen came out of a lower room, and -opened the door for me. I was about to depart, when he caught me gently -but firmly by the arm. - -"Oh, sir!" said he earnestly, "do not leave the house without seeing -Mrs. Harris. She has relapsed into another fit; but when she comes to -herself, it will be a comfort to her to see a friend of her husband. You -knew him, sir, when living; and for his sake, perhaps--" the man paused -for a moment, and continued,--"you have a benevolent heart, sir,--I am -sure you have,--and if you knew all, even though he may have wronged -you----" - -It was an unseasonable time for an appeal of this nature. The passions -that had been forced back upon my heart had yet scarce begun to subside, -but I spoke calmly. - -"You will tell her Mr. Saville has been here;" and I was going. - -"Mr. Saville!" repeated the man. "Oh, sir, we have heard that -name mentioned frequently of late. You will come again, or send, -perhaps;--will you not, sir?" - -"She will know where to find me, should she wish to see me, which I -think is hardly probable;" and with a cold "good-night" I left him. - -I called upon Herbert on my way home, and told him all that had taken -place. He was surprised and shocked. - -"Saville," said he, after a long pause, during which he had been -absorbed in reflection, "this cursed affair is destroying you. I am a -plain man. You may shake your head, and tell me coolly and calmly that -you have ceased to feel the injury which all the while is preying upon -you. It is that calmness which I fear most; it will kill you, or worse -than that,--you understand me. You must pursue this matter no farther. -The man is dead, and your wife---- Well," he resumed, "I beg your -pardon; I was wrong to call her by that name. May I speak plainly?" - -"You may." - -"She is evidently in a state of want--of destitution. This must not be. -You must allow her--settle upon her--enough to rescue her from poverty -and its temptations. She must not starve;--I see you could not bear -that. And you must forget her. It will not do to see a young man like -yourself sacrificed, self-sacrificed, to the villany of a scoundrel. I -will say no more, Saville. Vice has too much homage paid to her when an -honourable man is made her victim." - -Herbert was right--he was always so. No, no;--she must not starve. That -were indeed a miserable triumph to me. I went to my solicitor on the -next morning, and a deed was made out, settling a competence upon her, -and I sent with it as much money as she could require for immediate -exigencies. And I was resolved that I would forget her. The worst was -past, and time and occupation would do much, and I would think this -misery down. But the worst was not yet past. - -I was informed, one morning, that a woman in the hall desired to -speak with me. Concluding that she was one of the many persons who -are accustomed to wait upon the wealthy with petitions, I ordered the -servant to admit her. A woman meanly dressed, and whose countenance was -concealed, moved towards me, and sinking upon her knees, with her palms -pressed together and raised towards me, looked up into my face. Madness -in me, and misery and famine in her, must have wrought more strongly, if -that were possible, than they had done, could I have failed to recognise -that face instantly. Her lips moved,--she would have spoken, but she had -no power to speak,--and with a deep and heavy groan she fell upon the -floor before me. I rang the bell violently. A servant entered the room. - -"Send Mrs. Martin to me instantly. Mrs. Martin," said I, as the woman -hastened into the room, "let Dr. Herbert be sent for immediately. You -must take care of her. See that she wants nothing." - -"Gracious God! it is my mistress!" said the woman, as she raised -her head upon her knee. "You will let her remain in the house, Mr. -Saville?--in one of the upper rooms?" - -"In her own room, Mrs. Martin.--I commit her to you. When she recovers, -we can make other arrangements." - -It is out of the power of fortune or of fate to excite such feelings -within me now as pressed upon my heart for some days after this scene. -I thank God for it. Human strength or weakness could not again endure -so dreadful a conflict of brute passion and of human feeling. That -piteous face raised to mine would not depart from me. That she should -kneel,--that she should have been degraded abjectly to crouch before me -for forgiveness, for pardon, for the vilest pity,--and that I should -know and feel that the base expiation was the poorest recompense--oh! I -cannot pursue this farther. - -Some days after this,--it was on a Sunday forenoon,--Mrs. Martin entered -the room. She took a seat opposite to me. - -"I am come to speak with you, Mr. Saville," she said. - -"Well, madam, proceed." - -"Mrs. Saville, my mistress, sir, is dying." - -I spoke not for some minutes, although I was not altogether unprepared -for a communication of this nature. - -"You will take the child to her, madam; she will wish to see him." - -"Oh, sir, she has seen him every day since she came here, and he is with -her now. You will not be offended, sir, if I tell you that she has seen -him many times within the last two years. Yes, sir, when you were----" - -"Mad, madam!--speak plainly!--I _was_ mad." - -"She came, sir, to me, and fell at my feet, imploring to see the child, -and I could not refuse her. I could not bear that my mistress should -kneel to me, and not be permitted to behold her own son;" and here the -woman wept bitterly. - -"It is very well," said I, after a pause; "I do not blame you. It is -better, perhaps, that it should have been so." - -"Could I prevail upon you, sir?" she continued, wiping her eyes; "might -I be so bold as to hope----" - -I anticipated the woman's thoughts. - -"She has expressed no wish that I should see her, Mrs. Martin." - -"She does not mention your name even to me," said she; "but she must not -die without seeing you;--she _must_ not, Mr. Saville." - -My nature at times was changed from what it had been since I was -released from the mad-house. I cast a glance at the woman, which she -understood and feared. - -"Mention not this subject again, madam, and leave me. I would be alone." - -I was disturbed by what the housekeeper had told me. She was dying. It -was well. I wished her to die. I felt that until she was dead, my heart -could not be brought to forgive her. - -I walked out, and bent my steps towards the lodging which Hastings had -formerly occupied. I found the woman of the house at home, and, with -a calmness which I have since marvelled at, I drew from her all the -particulars of their sojourn at her house. They had been living with -her about ten months before the death of Hastings, who, she understood, -had been entirely deserted by his relations, but why she knew not. About -a month previous to the decease of Hastings, he came home one night, -saying that he had been waylaid by a ruffian and much injured, and he -had never risen from his bed again. - -I ventured to ask "if Mr. Harris and his wife lived happily together?" - -The woman shook her head. "There was a strange mystery about them," said -she, "which I never could rightly make out. She was ever gentle and -obedient; but still there was something unlike a wife, I used to think, -whenever she addressed him. And he, sir,--poor man! we should not speak -ill of the dead,--but when he came home--from the gaming-house, we often -thought--how he used to strike and beat her, telling her to go to her -Mr. Saville! He was jealous of you, sir, I suppose, but I am certain -without cause; for she was an angel, sir, if ever angel was born upon -this earth.--But you are ill, sir. What is the matter?" - -"Nothing, nothing," said I, rising suddenly; "I am better now;" and -pressing my purse upon the woman, I rushed from the house. - -God of justice! how dreadful is thy vengeance, and how thou oft-times -makest the sinner work out his own punishment! I thought not of the wife -at first,--I thought of Isabella Denham. My heart dwelt upon her once -more as I had first beheld her at the theatre,--the young, the lovely, -the innocent being of former days. I remembered when but to see her -for a moment at the window was happiness unspeakable,--when even the -pressure of her hand in mine was a blessing and a delight to me. And to -think that this creature, who had lain in my bosom, who had been tended, -watched, almost served, with a degree of love akin to idolatry,--who had -never seen one glance of unkindness from me, who had heard no tone from -my lips save of affection--too often of foolish weakness;--to think that -this creature should have become the slave, the drudge,--the spurned and -beaten drudge of a brutal miscreant,--the thought was too horrible! - -I had scarcely entered my own house when Mrs. Martin sought me. - -"For mercy's sake, sir!" she said in agitation, "come and take your last -leave of my mistress. She is dying, and has prayed to see you once more." - -I followed her in silence. I met Herbert at the door of the room. "I am -glad you are come," said he. He was in tears. - -"I am too weak, Herbert; am I not?" - -He pressed my hand,--"No, no,"--and he left me. - -I entered the room, and sat down by her side. She spoke not for some -minutes. - -"I wished to see you once more, Mr. Saville," she said at length in a -low tone, and without raising her eyes to my face, "to implore, not -your pardon, for that I dare not expect; but that you will not curse -my memory when I am gone. You would not, Edward,"--and she tremblingly -touched my hand as it lay upon the bed,--"if you knew all, or if I could -tell you all." - -I answered something, but I know not what. - -"I have been guilty," she resumed, "but I did not meditate guilt. Heaven -is my witness that I speak the truth. I was betrayed;--and the rest was -fear, and frenzy, and despair!" - -I could conceive that now--I could believe it:--I did believe it,--and I -was human. I took both her hands in mine: "Look at me, Isabella! look in -my face!" - -She did so, but with hesitation, and as she did so she started.--"Nay, -we are both altered: but other miseries might have done this. I forgive -you from my heart and from my soul. As we first met, so shall we now -part. All shall be forgotten,--all is forgiven. God bless you!" - -Those words had killed her. Her eyes dwelt upon me for one moment with -their first sweetness in them;--a sigh,--and earth alone remained! - - - - - A FRAGMENT OF ROMANCE. - WARRANTED GENUINE. - - [ A young lady who rejoices in - the appellation of Czarina Amabelle St. Cloud has - addressed a lengthened epistle to us, in which she - feelingly deplores the gradual decline and downfall of - the Minerva Press. She has favoured us with a catalogue - of her unpublished works, and a spirit-stirring extract - from her last manuscript romance, which is indeed a - masterpiece in a department of literature now unhappily - but too much neglected. We willingly subjoin both. For - a young lady under twenty years of age, Miss St. Cloud - in the most voluminous writer we ever had the pleasure - of meeting with.--ED. ] - - CATALOGUE OF MISS ST. CLOUD'S UNPUBLISHED WORKS. - - A Nympholept Lover, or, the Whispering Fungus. - Lycanthropy, the Wolfish Exquisite. - The Vampyre's Elixir, or, the Undying Wanderer. - The Spectre Steam-boat's Monster Supercargo. - The Pawned Shadow; a Vision of Invisibility. - The Idiot Oracle and the Infant Wizard. - Ventriloquism; the Life of a Fratricidal Freemason. - Dyke-impia, the Watery Doublegoer. - Basiliska, the Snake-eyed Skeleton of Enniskillen. - The Last Woman; or, the Parentless Pigmies. - Amuletus's Enchanted Chessmen; from the German. - Second Sight; or, the Crimson Behemoth. - Frozen Echoes; or, Wraithology; a Shetland story. - The Evil Ear: a legend of love. - Venomgorgia, the Arsenic-eater; a pastoral romance. - The Politics of the Gnomes; a satiric allegory. - Pestilia, the Plague Perie; or, the Eternal Earthquake. - The Fog Fairy; or, a Fire in Fleet-ditch. - The Hydra of Hyde Park; or, High-life Eclogues. - Aristocratic Atrocities; or, the Banker's Widow. - The Fatal Furbelow; or, the Tempted Templar. - The Murderous Marchioness of Mesopotamia. With coloured plates. - Boadicea at Jaugarnaut; interspersed with Della Cruscan Poetry. - Romanzritter and Nomansreden; a tradition of ancient Norwegia. - - - _Extract._ - -"Let the tear of sensibility be wiped for the simple Clotilde, who, -fresh as an opening zoöphyte, awoke her aged nurse, Fidgita, to prepare -her for the evening masque; and still the unconscious being warbled, - - "While meekly blends the azure dew, - And starry dawn invests the grove, - When listening doves in fancy coo, - O'er faintest dreams by memory wove; - Then shall the blameless brigand bless - The suit of his Bohemian fair, - Or read in every golden tress - The token flowers of India's air! - Singing tink a tink, fal lira la, - Fal lira la, sing tink a tink!" - -"Gramercy!" quoth the garrulous crone, who had numbered ninety summers; -"will my foster babe mock with troubadour odes, and ballads, and the -like, one whose every artery hath hardened into a tendon? Hear me, -wench, and tremble!" In an unearthly and sepulchral tone, she gutturally -muttered the ancient Runic prophecy-- - - "Two children, each of spell-bound mother, - Shall meet, and one shall love the other; - But mother young, and mother old, - Each the blessing shall withhold. - When by parent's tooth is child's flesh riven, - When by child's hand, parent hurl'd from heaven, - Then shall the serfs with joy be tipsy, - For then shall the robber espouse the gipsy." - -The mysterious Fidgita disappeared. Clotilde pondered o'er the -prediction. She was, indeed, a natural daughter of a wealthy baron, by -some beauteous wanderer. The lawless but exemplary idol of her heart -had rescued herself and nurse from these Tartar hordes, and restored -her to her father, in whose halls she had been received by the Hebrew -Duchess Ketura Boaz, and wooed, somewhat against the will of that -mature enchantress, by the Danish Lord Wooden Murkenhole, whose cause -Fidgita had warmly espoused. Clotilde still stood, clammily clasping her -clay-cold hands, as her sportive Grace tripped into the corridor. - -"Is the Lady Gunterzwartz turned puritan?" she asked with her wonted wit. - -"Not at all," was the dignified reply; for the high patrician blood -which had descended from the old Romans to our fair papist ill brooked -the familiarity of the Israelitish dame. - -"Lady Clotilde," resumed the Duchess Ketura, playing with the handle of -the dagger which marked her caste, and which, like other creoles of that -region and period, she wore stuck in her plaid bonnet, "I must tell your -ladyship----" - -"Nothing about that Wooden Murkenhole!" interrupted Clotilde. "Were he -a sable pagan Esquimaux bowing to the abominations of Isis, I could not -regard him with more repugnance." - -"Ha!" laughed her Grace of Boaz, "'tis only when Guzman sails his -gondola beneath the spreading cocoa-trees, and strikes his ganjam to -the praise of thy charms, that thou art pleased, flirting Tory! Truly, -friend Clotilde, I little dreamed, an' please you, when, flying from -the invading Normans, I left the luxurious woods of Dover, and the -contingent mountains of Cheshire, that I should find thee, my own--no -matter! so unlike in taste to thy hapless--hush!" - -"Oh, Albion!" sighed Clotilde, "decidedly thou must be the queen of -cities. Thy gallant outlaws and highwaymen will with joy the bride -of Guzman greet; for, rather than wive the Rosicrucian Murkenhole, I -will throw myself off Mount Damthopovit, or into the monastery of St. -Kussanblastre." - -"My lovely pupil," said Ketura, "had far better accompany me to the -munchen-hall, where the kooken-vrow is already serving up the duntarags." - -Clotilde followed her friend. What, then, was her amaze at finding the -phorontrom filled with armed men, headed by the rejected and vindictive -Wooden! To seize his victim; to place her in the fatal trot-joggeur; -to drive across the extensive crags of Smashaltobitz; to consign her -to the dungeons of Glumanough,--was the work of a moment. It was not -long, however, ere Fidgita apprised the Chevalier Guzman of his lady's -peril: that nobleman, we may well imagine, lost no time in attempting to -succour. - -We must now return to the chateau. Between those fated women stood the -unforgiving one. - -"Mothers both!" he uttered, pointing jocosely. "Mother, traitress to -your son, we part no more. Mother, rival to your daughter, Jewess or -Gingaree, you have lost your Clotilde. Vainly, like your sires, may you -wander crying Chloe! Chloe! till she too is old Clo--till--" - -But we draw the curtain o'er his savage joy. Poison and poignard had -been pacific penances to those he dealt the Duchess, ere, with delirious -haste, he ascended with his wretched parent in the aërial car. The Lady -Ketura, meanwhile, fled to her skiff, which, but for the incantations -of the wizard Gorius, she could not have steered, her wrists being yet -stiff from the thumb-screws applied to extort her unutterable secret. -Thus for weeks did they buffet,--one with ether, the other with the -waves,--without touching even earth, much less any more palatable food. -Their squalid tatters spread pestilence around, and the rage of hunger -gnawed them both. - -It was now that the volcano began to spout in tragic lines of liquid -fire: a furious tempest added shipwreck to the scene. A flaming brand -from the irruption lighted on the sail,--the conflagration spread,--a -spiral blaze darted on high,--the roar of combustion announced that it -had ignited the infernal gas, and the accursed aëronaut was precipitated -on the shore. Ketura now remembered how she _had_ loved, and crawled to -kiss the dear perfidious Murkenhole. Bats, toads, lemurs, owls, snails, -spiders, and other reptilous vermin, slimily beset her loathsome way, -gibbering with too intelligible triumph; but, leaning her back against a -rock, and firmly placing her foot before, she shouted, "Come one, come -all! this rock shall fly from its firm base as soon as Ketura!" - -He of the charmed life had fallen unharmed, and, hearing this heroic -defiance, rushed to consummate his hellish vengeance. But the Duchess -of Boaz anticipated his asking eye. Madly she dashed her veined -temples against the jagged rock--all was black darkness. Wooden hurried -forward,--slipped,--fell. Was it the ocean foam which rendered his path -precarious? He scooped up some, in the hollow of his hand, to quench -his burning thirst, and lend him voice for one more vow of hate! Holy -nature! his slide was formed of Ketura's brain!--'twas that his lip had -touched. Still, as life ebbed from her gangrenous coagulated wounds, her -lacerated arms, like crushed vipers, wound their torn muscles round his -felon knee. With a glare of fury he beheld the demon laughing o'er his -prey, but, as the master of these forfeit souls, spurned the already -putrescent masses of still conscious mortality into the turgid sable of -that yawning gulf: their life-rending shriek awaked the distant bandits, -who had been deaf to the phenomena of nature. What sight awaits them? - -Now all the gods to speed! it is the Steam Beacon of the Railroad, which -begins to flare in token of their chieftain's victory: and lo! he comes, -bearing in one hand two papers;--the first, a free pardon for himself -and gallant band; the second, a restitution of his Italian estates, -as the rightful Count Cigaro. In his other hand he leads the rescued -Clotilde, followed by her venerable father Sir Gunterzwartz; and if a -momentary cloud o'ershadowed their spirits at the memory of the dead, it -was dissipated on the morrow at the altar of Hymen, where the Druidic -high-priest, assisted by his patriarchs, conferred the blushing hand of -Clotilde on the joy-o'erflowed eye of her devoted Guzman; announcing -to the assembled senate this moral lesson,--that necromancy dislocates -every vital tie; but that whene'er irregular valour substitutes, in -favour of injured beauty, the boudoir of bliss for the dungeon of -despair, there is in such exchange no robbery." - -To this we can only add, that Miss St. Cloud and a young gentleman we -know might write a delightful book between them; and that the sooner -they form a literary partnership, the better. - - - - - LINES - - _On seeing "The Young Veteran,"_ JOHN BANNISTER, _toddling up - Gower-street, after he had attained his seventieth birthday_. - - WRITTEN BY SIR GEORGE ROSE, AND COMMUNICATED BY J. P. HARLEY, ESQ. - - With seventy years upon his back, - Still is my honest friend "Young Jack," - Nor spirits check'd nor fancy slack, - But fresh as any daisy. - Though Time has knock'd his stumps about, - He cannot bowl his temper out; - And all the _Bannister_ is stout, - Although the STEPS be crazy. - - [Illustration: An Irish Patient] - - - - - HANDY ANDY.--No. II. - -Andy walked out of the room with an air of supreme triumph, having laid -the letters on the table, and left the squire staring after him in -perfect amazement. - -"Well, by the holy Paul! that's the most extraordinary genius I ever -came across," was the soliloquy the master uttered as the servant closed -the door after him; and the squire broke the seal of the letter that -Andy's blundering had so long delayed. It was from his law-agent, on the -subject of an expected election in the county which would occur in case -of the demise of the then-sitting member;--it ran thus: - - "Dublin, Thursday. MY DEAR - SQUIRE.--I am making all possible exertions to have - every and the earliest information on the subject of - the election. I say the election,--because, though the - seat for the county is not yet vacant, it is impossible - but that it must soon be so. Any other man than the - present member must have died long ago; but Sir Timothy - Trimmer has been so undecided all his life that he - cannot at present make up his mind to die; and it is - only by Death himself giving the casting vote that the - question can be decided. The writ for the vacant county - is expected to arrive by every mail, and in the mean - time I am on the alert for information. You know we - are sure of the barony of Ballysloughgutthery, and the - boys of Killanmaul will murder any one that dares to - give a vote against you. We are sure of Knockdoughty - also, and the very pigs in Glanamuck would return you; - but I must put you on your guard in one point where - you least expected to be betrayed. You told me you - were sure of Neck-or-nothing Hall; but I can tell you - you're out there; for the master of the aforesaid is - working heaven and earth to send us all to h--ll. He - backs the other interest; for he is so over head and - ears in debt, that he is looking out for a pension, - and hopes to get one by giving his interest to the - Honourable Sackville Scatterbrain, who sits for the - borough of Old Gooseberry at present, but whose friends - think his talents are worthy of a county. If Sack wins, - Neck-or-nothing gets a pension,--that's _poz_. I had - it from the best authority. I lodge at a milliner's - here:--no matter; more when I see you. But don't be - afraid; we'll bag Sack; and distance Neck-or-nothing. - But, seriously speaking, it's a d--d good joke that - O'Grady should use you in this manner, who have been - so kind to him in money matters; but, as the old song - says, 'Poverty parts good company;' and he is so cursed - poor that he can't afford to know you any longer, now - that you have lent him all the money you had, and the - pension _in prospectu_ is too much for his feelings. - I'll be down with you again as soon as I can, for I - hate the diabolical town as I do poison. They have - altered Stephen's Green--_ruined_ it, I should say. - They have taken away the big ditch that was round it, - where I used to hunt water-rats when a boy. They are - destroying the place with their d--d improvements. - All the dogs are well, I hope, and my favorite bitch. - Remember me to Mrs. Egan, Whom all admire. My dear - squire, Your's per quire, "_To Edward Egan, Esq. - Merryvale._" - MURTOUGH MURPHY. - -Murtough Murphy was a great character, as may be guessed from his -letter. He was a country attorney of good practice;--good, because -he could not help it,--for he was a clever, ready-witted fellow, up -to all sorts of trap, and one in whose hands a cause was very safe; -therefore he had plenty of clients without his seeking them. For, -if Murtough's practice had depended on his looking for it, he might -have made broth of his own parchment; for though, to all intents and -purposes, a good attorney, he was so full of fun and fond of amusement, -that it was only by dint of the business being thrust upon him he was -so extensive a practitioner. He loved a good bottle, a good hunt, a -good joke, and a good song, as well as any fellow in Ireland; and -even when he was obliged in the way of business to press a gentleman -hard,--to hunt his man to the death,--he did it so good-humouredly that -his very victim could not be angry with him. As for those he served, -he was their prime favourite; there was nothing they _could_ want to -be done in the parchment line that Murtough would not find out some -way of doing; and he was so pleasant a fellow, that he shared in the -hospitality of all the best tables in the county. He kept good horses, -was on every race-ground within twenty miles, and a steeple-chase was -no steeple-chase without him. Then he betted freely, and, what's more, -won his bets very generally; but no one found fault with him for that, -and he took your money with such a good grace, and mostly gave you -a _bon-mot_ in exchange for it,--so that, next to winning the money -yourself, you were glad it was won by Murtough Murphy. - -The squire read his letter two or three times, and made his comments as -he proceeded. "'Working heaven and earth to send us to--' So, that's the -work O'Grady's at--that's old friendship--d--d unfair: and after all the -money I lent him too;--he'd better take care--I'll be down on him if he -plays foul;--not that I'd like that much either;--but--Let's see who's -this is coming down to oppose me?--Sack Scatterbrain--the biggest fool -from this to himself;--the fellow can't ride a bit,--a pretty member -for a sporting county! 'I lodge at a milliner's'--divil doubt you, -Murtough; I'll engage you do.--Bad luck to him!--he'd rather be fooling -away his time in a back-parlour, behind a bonnet-shop, than minding the -interests of the county. 'Pension'--ha!--wants it sure enough,--take -care, O'Grady, or by the powers I'll be at you.--You may baulk all the -bailiffs, and defy any other man to serve you with a writ; but, by -jingo! if I take the matter in hand, I'll be bound I'll get it done. -'Stephen's Green--big ditch--where I used to hunt water-rats.'--Divil -sweep you, Murphy! you'd rather be hunting water-rats any day than -minding your business.--He's a clever fellow for all that. 'Favourite -bitch--Mrs. Egan.' Ay!--there's the end of it--with his bit o' po'thry -too! The divil! - -The squire threw down the letter, and then his eye caught the other two -that Andy had purloined. - -"More of that stupid blackguard's work!--robbing the mail--no -less!--that fellow will be hanged some time or other. 'Egad, maybe -they'll hang him for this! What's best to be done?--Maybe it will be the -safest way to see who they are for, and send them to the parties, and -request they will say nothing: that's it." - -The squire here took up the letters that lay before him, to read their -superscriptions; and the first he turned over was directed to Gustavus -Granby O'Grady, Esq. Neck-or-nothing Hall, Knockbotherum. This was -what is called a curious coincidence. Just as he had been reading all -about O'Grady's intended treachery to him, here was a letter to that -individual, and with the Dublin post-mark too, and a very grand seal. - -The squire examined the arms, and, though not versed in the mysteries -of heraldry, he thought he remembered enough of most of the arms he had -seen to say that this armorial bearing was a strange one to him. He -turned the letter over and over again, and looked at it back and front, -with an expression in his face that said, as plain as countenance could -speak, "I'd give a trifle to know what is inside of this." He looked at -the seal again: "Here's a--goose, I think it is, sitting in a bowl, with -cross-bars on it, and a spoon in its mouth: like the fellow that owns -it, maybe. A goose with a silver spoon in his mouth! Well, here's the -gable-end of a house, and a bird sitting on the top of it. Could it be -Sparrow? There's a fellow called Sparrow that's under-secretary at the -Castle. D--n it! I wish I knew what it's about." - -The squire threw down the letter as he said "d--n it," but took it -up again in a few seconds, and, catching it edgewise between his -fore-finger and thumb, gave a gentle pressure that made the letter gape -at its extremities; and the squire, exercising that sidelong glance -which is peculiar to postmasters, waiting-maids, and magpies who inspect -marrow-bones, peeped into the interior of the epistle, saying to himself -as he did so, "All's fair in war, and why not in electioneering?" -His face, which was screwed up to the scrutinizing pucker, gradually -lengthened as he caught some words that were on the last turn-over of -the sheet, and so could be read thoroughly, and his brow darkened into -the deepest frown as he scanned these lines: "As you very properly and -pungently remark, poor Egan is a _bladder_--a mere _bladder_." "I am a -_bladdher_? by Jasus!" said the squire, tearing the letter into pieces -and throwing it into the fire. "And so, _Misther_ O'Grady, you say -I'm a bladdher!" and the blood of the Egans rose as the head of that -pugnacious family strided up and down the room: "I'll bladdher you, my -buck,--I'll settle your hash!" - -Here he took up the poker, and made a very angry lunge at the fire, that -did not want stirring, and there he beheld the letter blazing merrily -away. He dropped the poker as if he had caught it by the hot end, as he -exclaimed, "What the d--l shall I do? I've burnt the letter!" This threw -the squire into a fit of what he was wont to call his "considering cap;" -and he sat with his feet on the fender for some minutes, occasionally -muttering to himself what he began with,--"What the d--l shall I do? -It's all owing to that infernal Andy--I'll murder that fellow some time -or other. If he hadn't brought it, I shouldn't have seen it--to be sure, -if I hadn't looked; but then the temptation--a saint couldn't have -withstood it. Confound it! what a stupid trick to burn it. Another here, -too--must burn that as well, and say nothing about either of them;" and -he took up the second letter, and, merely looking at the address, threw -it into the fire. He then rang the bell, and desired Andy to be sent -to him. As soon as that ingenious individual made his appearance, the -squire desired him with peculiar emphasis to shut the door, and then -opened upon him with, - -"You unfortunate rascal!" - -"Yis, your honour." - -"Do you know that you might be hanged for what you did to-day?" - -"What did I do, sir?" - -"You robbed the post-office." - -"How did I rob it, sir?" - -"You took two letters you had no right to." - -"It's no robbery for a man to get the worth of his money." - -"Will you hold your tongue, you stupid villain! I'm not joking: you -absolutely might be hanged for robbing the post-office." - -"Sure I didn't know there was any harm in what I done; and for that -matther, sure, if they're sitch wondherful value, can't I go back again -wid 'em?" - -"No, you thief! I hope you have not said a word to any one about it." - -"Not the sign of a word passed my lips about it." - -"You're sure?" - -"Sartin." - -"Take care, then, that you never open your mouth to mortal about it, or -you'll be hanged, as sure as your name is Andy Rooney." - -"Oh, at that rate I never will. But maybe your honour thinks I ought to -be hanged?" - -"No,--because you did not intend to do a wrong thing; but, only I have -pity on you, I could hang you to-morrow for what you've done." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"I've burnt the letters, so no one can know anything about the business -unless you tell on yourself: so remember,--not a word." - -"Faith. I'll be as dumb as the dumb baste." - -"Go, now; and, once for all, remember you'll be hanged so sure as you -ever mention one word about this affair." - -Andy made a bow and a scrape, and left the squire, who hoped the secret -was safe. He then took a ruminating walk round the pleasure-grounds, -revolving plans of retaliation upon his false friend O'Grady; and -having determined to put the most severe and sudden measure of the law -in force against him for the monies in which he was indebted to him, -he only awaited the arrival of Murtough Murphy from Dublin to execute -his vengeance. Having settled this in his own mind, he became more -contented, and said, with a self-satisfied nod of the head, "We'll see -who's the _bladdher_." - -In a few days Murtough Murphy returned from Dublin, and to Merryvale he -immediately proceeded. The squire opened to him directly his intention -of commencing hostile law proceedings against O'Grady, and asked what -most summary measures could be put in practice against him. - -"Oh! various, various, my dear squire," said Murphy; "but I don't see -any great use in doing so _yet_,--he has not openly avowed himself." - -"But does he not intend to coalesce with the other party?" - -"I believe so;--that is, if he's to get the pension." - -"Well, and that's as good as done, you know; for if they want him, the -pension is easily managed." - -"I'm not so sure of that." - -"Why, they're as plenty as blackberries." - -"Very true; but, you see, Lord Gobblestown swallows all the pensions -for his own family; and there are a great many complaints in the market -against him for plucking that blackberry-bush very bare indeed; and -unless Sack Scatterbrain has swingeing interest, the pension may not be -such an easy thing." - -"But still O'Grady has shown himself not my friend." - -"My dear squire, don't be so hot: he has not _shown_ himself yet----" - -"Well, but he means it." - -"My dear squire, you oughtn't to jump a conclusion like a twelve-foot -drain or a five-bar gate." - -"Well, he's a blackguard." - -"No denying it; and therefore keep him on your side, if you can, or -he'll be a troublesome customer on the other." - -"I'll keep no terms with him;--I'll slap at him directly. What can you -do that's wickedest?--latitat, capias--fee-faw-fum, or whatever you call -it?" - -"Hollo! squire, you're overrunning your game: maybe, after all, he -_won't_ join the Scatterbrains, and----" - -"I tell you it's no matter; he intended doing it, and that's all the -same. I'll slap at him,--I'll blister him!" - -Murtough Murphy wondered at this blind fury of the squire, who, being a -good-humoured and good-natured fellow in general, puzzled the attorney -the more by his present manifest malignity against O'Grady. But he had -not seen the turn-over of the letter: he had not seen "_bladdher_,"--the -real and secret cause of the "war to the knife" spirit which was kindled -in the squire's breast. - -"Of course you can do what you please; but, if you'd take a friend's -advice----" - -"I tell you I'll blister him." - -"He certainly _bled_ you very freely." - -"I'll blister him, I tell you, and that smart. Lose no time, Murphy, my -boy: let loose the dogs of law on him, and harass him till he'd wish the -d--l had him." - -"Just as you like; but----" - -"I'll have it my own way, I tell you; so say no more." - -"I'll commence against him at once then, as you wish it; but it's no -use, for you know very well that it will be impossible to serve him." - -"Let me alone for that: I'll be bound I'll find fellows to get the -inside of him." - -"Why, his house is barricaded like a jail, and he has dogs enough to -bait all the bulls in the country." - -"No matter; just send me the blister for him, and I'll engage I'll stick -it on him." - -"Very well, squire; you shall have the blister as soon as it can be got -ready. I'll tell you whenever you may send over to me for it, and your -messenger shall have it hot and warm for him. Good-b'ye, squire." - -"Good-b'ye, Murphy!--lose no time." - -"In the twinkling of a bed-post. Are you going to Tom Durfy's -steeple-chase?" - -"I'm not sure." - -"I've a bet on it. Did you see the Widow Flanagan lately? You didn'? -They say Tom's pushing it strong there. The widow has money, you know, -and Tom does it all for the love o' God; for you know, squire, there are -two things God hates,--a coward and a poor man. Now, Tom's no coward; -and, that he may be sure of the love o' God on the other score, he's -making up to the widow; and, as he's a slashing fellow, she's nothing -loth, and, for fear of any one cutting him out, Tom keeps as sharp a -look-out after her as she does after him. He's fierce on it, and looks -pistols at any one that attempts putting his _comether_ on the widow, -while she looks "as soon as you plaze," as plain as an optical lecture -can enlighten the heart of man: in short, Tom's all ram's horns, and the -widow all sheep's eyes. Good-b'ye, squire!" And Murtough put spurs to -his horse and cantered down the avenue, singing. - -Andy was sent over to Murtough Murphy's for the law process at the -appointed time; and, as he had to pass through the village, Mrs. Egan -desired him to call at the apothecary's for some medicine that was -prescribed for one of the children. - -"What'll I ax for, ma'am?" - -"I'd be sorry to trust to you, Andy, for remembering. Here's the -prescription; take great care of it, and Mr. M'Grane will give you -something to bring back; and mind, if it's a powder, don't let it get -wet as you did the sugar the other day." - -"No, ma'am." - -"And if it's a bottle, don't break it as you did the last." - -"No, ma'am." - -"And make haste." - -"Yis, ma'am:" and off went Andy. - -In going through the village he forgot to leave the prescription at the -apothecary's, and pushed on for the attorney's: there he saw Murtough -Murphy, who handed him the law process, enclosed in a cover, with a note -to the squire. - -"Have you been doing anything very clever lately, Andy?" said Murtough. - -"I don't know, sir," said Andy. - -"Did you shoot any one with soda-water since I saw you last?" - -Andy grinned. - -"Did you kill any more dogs lately, Andy?" - -"Faith, you're too hard on me, sir: sure I never killed but one dog, and -that was an accident----" - -"An accident!--D--n your impudence, you thief! Do you think, if you -killed one of the pack on purpose, we wouldn't cut the very heart out o' -you with our hunting-whips?" - -"Faith, I wouldn't doubt you, sir: but, sure, how could I help that -divil of a mare runnin' away wid me, and thramplin' the dogs?" - -"Why didn't you hold her, you thief?" - -"Hould her, indeed!--you just might as well expect to stop fire among -flax as that one." - -"Well, be off with you now, Andy, and take care of what I gave you for -the squire." - -"Oh, never fear, sir," said Andy, as he turned his horse's head -homeward. He stopped at the apothecary's in the village to execute his -commission for "misthis." On telling the son of Galen that he wanted -some physic "for one o' the childre up at the big house," the dispenser -of the healing art asked _what_ physic he wanted. - -"Faith, I dunna what physic." - -"What's the matter with the child?" - -"He's sick, sir." - -"I suppose so, indeed, or you wouldn't be sent for medicine.--You're -always making some blunder. You come here, and don't know what -description of medicine is wanted." - -"Don't I?" said Andy with a great air. - -"No you don't, you omadhaun!" said the apothecary. - -Andy fumbled in his pockets and could not lay hold of the paper his -mistress entrusted him with until he had emptied them thoroughly of -their contents upon the counter of the shop; and then taking the -prescription from the collection, he said, "So you tell me I don't know -the description of the physic I'm to get. Now, you see you're out; for -_that's_ the _description_." And he slapped the counter impressively -with his hand, as he threw down the recipe before the apothecary. - -While the medicine was in the course of preparation for Andy, he -commenced restoring to his pockets the various parcels he had taken -from them in hunting for the recipe, Now, it happened that he had laid -them down close beside some articles that were compounded, and sealed -up for going out, on the apothecary's counter; and as the law process -which Andy had received from Murtough Murphy chanced to resemble in form -another enclosure that lay beside it, containing a blister, Andy, under -the influence of his peculiar genius, popped the blister into his pocket -instead of the packet which had been confided to him by the attorney, -and having obtained the necessary medicine from M'Grane, rode home with -great self-complacency that he had not forgot to do a single thing that -had been entrusted to him: "I'm all right this time," said Andy to -himself. - -Scarcely had he left the apothecary's shop when another messenger -alighted at its door, and asked "If Squire O'Grady's things was ready?" - -"There they are," said the innocent M'Grane, pointing to the bottles, -boxes, and _blister_, he had made up and set aside, little dreaming that -the blister had been exchanged for a law process; and Squire O'Grady's -own messenger popped into his pocket the legal instrument, that it was -as much as any seven men's lives were worth to bring within gun-shot of -Neck-or-nothing Hall. - -Home he went, and the sound of the old gate creaking on its hinges -at the entrance to the avenue awoke the deep-mouthed dogs around the -house, who rushed infuriate to the spot to devour the unholy intruder -on the peace and privacy of the patrician O'Grady; but they recognised -the old grey hack and his rider, and quietly wagged their tails and -trotted back, and licked their lips at the thoughts of the bailiff -they had hoped to eat. The door of Neck-or-nothing Hall was carefully -unbarred and unchained, and the nurse-tender was handed the parcel from -the apothecary, and re-ascended to the sick-room with slippered foot as -quietly as she could; for the renowned O'Grady was, according to her -account, "as cross as two sticks;" and she protested, furthermore, "that -her heart was grey with him." - -Mrs. O'Grady was near the bed of the sick man as the nurse-tender -entered. - -"Here's the things for your honour now," said she in her most soothing -tone. - -"I wish the d--l had you and them!" said O'Grady. - -"Gusty, dear!" said his wife. She might have said stormy instead of -gusty. - -"Oh! they'll do you good, your honour," said the nurse-tender, -curtsying, and uncorking bottles, and opening a pill-box. - -"Curse them all!" said the squire. "A pretty thing to have a gentleman's -body made a perfect sink for these blackguard doctors and apothecaries -to pour their dirty stuff into--faugh!" - -"Now, sir, dear, there's a little blisther just to go on your chest--if -you plaze----" - -"A _what_!" - -"A warm plasther, dear." - -"A _blister_ you said, you old _divil_!" - -"Well, sure, it's something to relieve you." - -The squire gave a deep growl, and his wife put in the usual appeal of -"Gusty, dear!" - -"Hold your tongue, will you? how would _you_ like it? I wish you had it -on your----" - -"'Deed-an-deed, dear,--" said the nurse-tender. - -"By the 'ternal war! if you say another word, I'll throw the jug at you!" - -"And there's a nice dhrop o' gruel I have on the fire for you," said the -nurse, pretending not to mind the rising anger of the squire, as she -stirred the gruel with one hand, while with the other she marked herself -with the sign of the cross, and said in a mumbling manner, "God presarve -us! he's the most cantankerous Christian I ever kem across!" - -"Show me that infernal thing!" said the squire. - -"What thing, dear?" - -"You know well enough, you old hag!--that blackguard blister!" - -"Here it is, dear. Now, just open the brust o' your shirt, and let me -put it an you." - -"Give it into my hand here, and let me see it." - -"Sartinly, sir;--but I think, if you'd let me just----" - -"Give it to me, I tell you!" said the squire, in a tone so fierce -that the nurse paused in her unfolding of the packet, and handed it -with fear and trembling to the already indignant O'Grady. But it is -only imagination can figure the outrageous fury of the squire, when, -on opening the envelope with his own hand, he beheld the law process -before him. There, in the heart of his castle, with his bars, and bolts, -and bull-dogs, and blunderbusses round him, he was served--absolutely -served,--and he had no doubt the nurse-tender was bribed to betray him. - -A roar and a jump up in bed, first startled his wife into terror, and -put the nurse on the defensive. - -"You infernal old strap!" shouted he, as he clutched up a handful of -bottles on the table near him and flung them at the nurse, who was near -the fire at the time; and she whipped the pot of gruel from the grate, -and converted it into a means of defence against the phial-pelting storm. - -Mrs. O'Grady rolled herself up in the bed-curtains, while the nurse -screeched "murther!" and at last, when O'Grady saw that bottles were of -no avail, he scrambled out of bed, shouting, "Where's my blunderbuss?" -and the nurse-tender, while he endeavoured to get it down from the rack, -where it was suspended over the mantelpiece, bolted out of the door, -which she locked on the outside, and ran to the most remote corner of -the house for shelter. - -In the mean time, how fared it at Merryvale? Andy returned with his -parcel for the squire, and his note from Murtough Murphy, which ran thus: - - "MY DEAR SQUIRE.--I send you the - _blister_ for O'Grady, as you insist on it; but I think - you won't find it easy to serve him with it. "Your - obedient and obliged, "MURTOUGH MURPHY." "_To Edward - Egan, Esq. Merryvale._" - -The squire opened the cover, and when he saw a real instead of a -figurative blister, grew crimson with rage. He could not speak for some -minutes, his indignation was so excessive. "So!" said he, at last, "Mr. -Murtough Murphy--you think to cut your jokes with me, do you? By all -that's sacred! I'll cut such a joke on you with the biggest horsewhip -I can find, that you'll remember it. '_Dear squire, I send you the -blister._' Bad luck to your impidence! Wait till awhile ago--that's all. -By this and that, you'll get such a blistering from me that all the -spermaceti in M'Grane's shop won't cure you." - - - - - TO A LYRIC AND ARTIST. - - (_Which we received from a Correspondent, and could not - possibly insert in a more appropriate place than this._) - - No wonder that Painters are "drawing long faces," - And Poets write badly, the while they discover - How truly the Muses, how fondly the Graces, - Receive the addresses of one little LOVER. - - - - - BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF RICHARDSON, THE SHOWMAN. - _With a Peep at Bartholomew Fair._ - - BY THE AUTHOR OF FISHER'S NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY. - _Seventeenth Edition, 4to._ - -In a periodical like the present, a contributor, if he really have -anything in him, ought to set off at score. Such is my determination. - -Works of the sort can only be produced by the exhibition of three rare -qualities, namely, Wit, Humour, and entertaining Fiction. The first has -been compared to a razor, which "cuts the most when exquisitely keen;" -the second I will venture to liken to a table-knife, which slashes away -at all on the board, and the best when broadly shining and tolerably -sharp in the edge; and the last is familiar enough to everybody, under -the term of "throwing the hatchet." But whatever the instrument, be it -razor, or knife, or axe, it is quite essential that it should never lose -its temper. - - Mais l'audace est commune, et le bon sens est rare; - Au lieu d'être piquant, souvent on est bizarre: - -which, being freely translated, means, - - In life there's so much impudence, - And very little common sense, - That writers trying to be witty, - Are only foolish: more's the pity! - -"The Showman,"--for so was this eminent individual designated by the -world at large, and so upon memorable occasions he called himself;--was, -it will be felt, a title of high distinction. When we look around -us, and see how many men are playing showmen, and how miserably they -succeed, we shall at once be convinced that nothing but very superior -merit could have won for Richardson the glory of the definite "the." -_He_ was not showing off himself, but others: he was nor showing off -his own follies, but the follies of society. Thus, instead of being a -laughing-stock, he laughed in his own sleeve; and by keeping a fool, -instead of making a fool of himself, he eschewed poverty, and ultimately -died in the odour and sanctity of wealth. - -Richardson originated at _Great_ Marlow, in the county of Bucks; the -very name of the place seeming to intimate that he was born to achieve -greatness. Whether he was lineally descended from the author of Clarissa -Harlowe is, and will long continue to be, a disputed fact. There was a -family resemblance between them; both were country gentlemen, and both -wore top-boots. - -For breeding, Mr. Richardson was indebted to the parish workhouse,--fair -promise of his future industry. In those days the poor laws had not been -amended; and children, being victualled satisfactorily, generally throve -accordingly. Under correction be it spoken, workhouses in country towns -were then far from being houses of correction. So our hero grew up. - -When big enough, he acquitted himself with reputation in the employment -of out o' door activity; for he never resembled the lazy fellow reduced -by idleness to want, who said in excuse, "When they bid me go to the ant -to learn wisdom, I am almost always going to my uncle's." - -From Marlow, after due probation, young Richardson, it is stated, -sought his fortune in the metropolis, and entered into the service of -Mr. Rhodes, a huge cow-keeper--a colossus in the milky way. Here it -is probable he acquired a taste for pastorals, and that extraordinary -proficiency in the Welsh language which rendered his dialogue in -after-times so strikingly rich and Celto-Doric. Some etymologists thence -infer that it was _Pick't_; but we don't believe it. - -We never read the life of an actor or actress without being told, about -the period of Richardson's career at which we have now arrived, that the -"ruling passion" took such strong possession of them, that they must -break all bounds, run away, and join some strolling company, to "imp -their wings," or some flight of that sort. So it happened with our hero: -he cut the cows, and hastened to adhere to Mrs. Penley, then performing -with unprecedented success in a club-room at Shadwell, a small town in -the vicinity of Wapping. The houses were crowded; receipts to the full -amount of five shillings nightly crowned their efforts, and the corps, -consisting of two gentlemen and two ladies, divided the five among -four, playing as it were all fours in a fives court. Encouraged by this -success, Richardson resolved to extend his fame, and accordingly visited -many parts of the provinces, starring it from the Shadwell boards. -Mighty as must have been his deserts, he met with no Bath manager, no -Tate Wilkinson, no Macready or Kemble, to appreciate his histrionic -talents. One night, having accidentally witnessed a representation of -the School for Scandal, he fancied he could play the little broker; so -he returned to London, and took a small shop in that line of business. -About the year ninety-six, he was enabled to rent the Harlequin, a -public-house near the stage-door of old Drury, and much frequented by -dramatic wights. It was of one of these that Richardson used to tell his -most elaborate pun. Being asked if he did anything in the dramatic line, -he answered, "I do more or less in it in every way: I do what I can in -the first syllable, _dram_, and in the first two syllables, _drama_; in -the last two syllables, _attic_, I am to be seen every night; and in the -last, _tick_--m' eye! I wish you knew my exertions." - -It was not to be expected that the Harlequin could last long without a -change; for not only was the sign contrariwise thereto, but the place -itself was a change-house. Our landlord therefore let it; and crying -"Damned be he that lets me!" bought a caravan, engaged a company from -among his customers, and opened his first booth at Bartholomew Fair. -But the name of this famed annual assemblage--now, alas! in a deep -decline--is enough to tempt a scribbler for hire to branch off into an -episode. And here it is. - -Proclaimed on the 3rd of September, to last during three lawful days, -exclusive of the day of proclamation, "Bartholomew Faire," as appears -from a pamphlet under that title, printed for Richard Harper, at the -Bible and Harpe, in Smithfield, A. D. 1641, began on the 24th of August, -old style. About the year 1102, in the reign of Henry the First, Rahere, -a minstrel of the king, founded the priory, hospital, and church of -St. Bartholomew, in Smithfield, as requested by the saint himself in a -dream, and, it is presumed, upon a bed where the dreamer could guess -what it was to be flea'd alive. Rahere was the first prior, and in his -time there was a grand row with Boniface, Archbishop of Canterbury, -on a visitation, when sundry skulls of canons, monks, and friars were -cracked, which probably suggested that the site would be very eligible -for an annual fair. Henry the Second accordingly granted that privilege -to the clothiers of England and the drapers of _London_; and his charter -to the mayor and aldermen is extant to this day. Theretofore called -"The Elms," from the noble trees which adorned it, Smithfield became in -turn a place for splendid jousts, tournaments, pageants, and feats of -chivalry; a market for cattle and hay; a scene of cruel executions; and -one where, as old Stow acquaints us, loose serving-men and quarrelsome -persons resorted and made uproars, thus becoming the rendezvous of -bullies and bravoes, till it earned the appropriate name of "Ruffians' -Hall." King Solomon, _alias_ Jacobus Primus, caused it to be paved -two hundred and twenty years agone, which we have on the authority of -Master Arthur Strange-ways, whose statement leads us to infer that the -Lord Mayor of 1614 had never opened a railroad, like Lord Mayor Kelly -in 1886. Then and there our ancient civic magnates were wont to disport -themselves with witnessing "wrastlings," shooting the broad arrow and -flights for games, and hunting real wild rabbits by the city boys, with -great noise and laughter. - -Posterior to the priors, and superior to the sub-priors of St. -Bartholomew, the canons have been succeeded by common guns; and the -friars by fried pigs, the most renowned viand of the festival;[48] the -monks have given place to monkeys, and the recluses to showmen. Such -are the mute abilities of Father Time. "The severall enormityes and -misdemeanours, which are there seene and acted," are they not upon -record? "Hither resort (says Master Harper, 1641) people of all sorts, -high and low, rich and poore, from cities, townes, and countrys; of -all sects, Papists, Atheists, Anabaptists, and Brownists; and of all -conditions, knaves and fooles, cuckolds and cuckoldmakers, pimpes and -panders, rogues and rascalls, the little loud-one and the witty wanton. -The faire is full of gold and silver drawers: just as Lent is to the -fishmonger, so is Bartholomew Faire to the pick-pocket. It is his high -harvest, which is never bad but when his cart goes up Holborne. Some of -your cut-purses are in fee with cheating costermongers. They have many -dainty baits to draw a bit; fine fowlers they are, for every finger -of theirs is a lime-twigge with which they catch dotterels. They are -excellently well read in physiognomy, for they will know how strong you -are in the purse by looking in your face; and, for the more certainty -thereof, they will follow you close, and never leave you till you draw -your purse, or they for you, though they kisse Newgate for it." - -[48] Besides the fried pigs were other most famous delicacies, which to -this day are not quite obsolete. There were called _sasserges_.--ED. - -Hone, in his Every-day Book (Part X.), furnished an excellent view of -this fair, full of curious dramatic and other matter. He describes the -shows of 1825, among which, _àpropos_, Richardson's theatre figures -prominently. The outside, he tells us, was above thirty feet in height, -and occupied one platform one hundred feet in width. The platform was -very elevated, the back of it lined with green baize, and festooned -with deeply-fringed crimson curtains, except at two places where the -money-takers sat, in roomy projections fitted up like Gothic shrinework, -with columns and pinnacles. There were fifteen-hundred variegated -illumination-lamps, in chandeliers, lustres, wreaths, and festoons. -A band of ten musicians in scarlet dresses, similar to those worn by -his Majesty's Beefeaters, continually played on various instruments; -while the performers paraded in their gayest "properties" before the -gazing multitude. Audiences rapidly ascended on each performance -being over; and, paying their money to the receivers in their Gothic -seats, had tickets in return, which, being taken at the doors, -admitted them to descend into the "theatre." The performances were -the Wandering Outlaw, a melodrama, with the death of the villain and -appearance of the accusing spirit;--a comic harlequinade, Harlequin -Faustus;--and concluding with a splendid panorama, painted by the first -artists.--Boxes, two shillings; pit, one shilling; and gallery, sixpence. - -The theatre held nearly a thousand people, continually emptying and -filling, and the performances were got over in about a quarter of an -hour! And, though anticipating a little of our personal narrative, we -may as well mention here, that occasionally, when the outside platform -was crowded with impatient spectators waiting for their turn to be -admitted, though the performances had not lasted more than five minutes, -Mr. Richardson would send in to inquire if _John Over-y_ was there, -which was the well-known signal to finish off-hand, strike the gong, -turn out the one audience, and turn in their successors, to see as much -of the Outlaw, the Devil, or Dr. Faustus, as time permitted. - -Ben Johnson's play of Bartholomew Fair in 1614 explains many of its -ancient humours, and particularly the eating of Bartholomew pig, already -noticed, and not to be repeated, as we desire to pen something more to -the purpose in Smithfield than a dry antiquarian essay, though it relate -to hares playing on the tabor, or tigers taught to pluck chickens. In -the latter way a ballad of 1655 may suffice. - - In 55, may I never thrive - If I tell ye any more than is true,-- - To London she came, hearing of the fame - Of a fair they call Bartholomew. - - In houses of boards men walk upon cords, - As easy as squirrels crack filberds; - But the cut-purses they do bite, and rub away, - But those we suppose to be ill birds. - - For a penny you may see a fine puppet play, - And for twopence a rare piece of art; - And a penny a cann, I dare swear a man - May put zix of 'em into a quart. - - Their zights be so rich, is able to bewitch - The heart of a very fine man-a; - Here's Patient Grizel here, and Fair Rosamond there, - And the history of Susanna. - - At Pye-corner end, mark well, my good friend, - 'Tis a very fine dirty place; - Where there's more arrows and bows, the Lord above knows, - Than was handled at Chevy Chase. - - Then at Smithfield Bars, betwixt the ground and the stars, - There's a place they call Shoemaker's-Row, - Where that you may buy shoes every day, - Or go barefoot all the year, I tro. - -In 1715 the largest booth ever erected was in the centre of Smithfield, -"for the King's Players;" and, in later times, we read of Garrick going -to see the pieces at Yates' and Shuter's booth. Hogarth in his youth -painted scenes for a famous woman who kept a droll in the fair; and -the old lady refused to pay because Dutch metal was used instead of -real gilding with leaf-gold. Pidcock and Polito exhibited their finest -animals; Astley his troop of horse, succeeded by Saunders. Puppet-shows, -or motions, as they were called, were also always popular here; and -giants, dwarfs, and whatever was singular in nature, or could be made -to seem so by art, have from time immemorial been the wonders and -favourites of Bartholomew Fair. - -Having now brought "_the_ Showman" to the management of what he might -have designated the National Theatre, with the long-established Jonases, -Penleys, Jobsons, _et hoc genus omne_ as his rivals,--the commencement -of a career of half a century's duration,--may we not pause to point -towards him the finger of admiration? What are the lessees of Drury -Lane or Covent Garden when compared to him? What have they done, or -what are they likely to do, for the legitimate drama, when compared -to him? He was a manager who paid his performers weekly on the nail; -meaning by "the nail" the drum-head. On the Saturday evening, assembling -them all, willing and buoyant, around him, he spread the sum total of -their salaries upon the drum,--not double base, like the frauds of -modern managers,--and then there was a roll-call of the most agreeable -description. Sometimes the merry vagabonds would shove one another up -against their paymaster; but the worst of his resentment was to detect -the _larker_, if he could, and pay him last; or, if sorely annoyed, -forget to invite him to the following supper: punishments severe, -it must be acknowledged; but still the sufferers had their money to -comfort themselves withal, and were not obliged to wait, like the waits -in the streets at midnight, till after Christmas for the chance of -their hard-earned wages. And he was grateful, too. When marked success -attended any performer or performance, a marked requital was sure to -follow. The Spotted Boy was a fortune to him, though not all so black as -Jim Crow; and his affection grew with his growth. His portrait adorned -the Tusculum of the Showman; and, after his death, he could not withdraw -the green silk curtain from it without shedding tears. Had that boy -lived to be a man, there is no doubt but Richardson would have made him -independent of all the dark specks on life's horizon. As it was, he was -treated as by a father like a spotless boy, and buried in the catacombs -of the race of Richardson. - -Next to the Spotted Boy, the performer whom Richardson most boasted of -having belonged to his company was Edmund Kean. He, with Mrs. Carey, -_quasi_ mamma, and Henry, _quasi_ brother, were engaged by our spirited -manager; and Kean, over his cups, used to brag of having, by tumbling in -front of the booth, tumbled hundreds of bumpkins in to the spectacles -within. He did Tom Thumb as tiny Booth does now at the St. James's -Theatre; and at a later period, viz. 1806, is stated to have played -Norval, and Motley in the Castle Spectre, for him at Battersea fair. -Another story adds, that he was called on to recite his Tom-Thumbery -before George the Third at Windsor; but we will not vouch for the truth -of the newspaper anecdote. - -From the metropolitan glory of Bartholomew Fair, the transition to -the principal fairs of the kingdom was obvious. Mr. Richardson went -the whole hog, and, in so doing, had nearly gone to the dogs. At that -revolutionary period, neither the fairs nor the affairs of the country -were in a wholesome condition. Politics are ever adverse to amusements. -Vain was the attempt to beguile the snobbery of their pence; and our -poor caravan, like one in the deserts of the Stony Araby, toiled on -their weary march with full hearts and empty stomachs. At length it is -told, at Cambridge Fair,--well might it be called by its less euphonous -name of Stirbitch, so badly did the speculation pay,--that Richardson -and his clown, Tom Jefferies, of facetious memory, were compelled to -take a sort of French leave for London, leaving much of their _materiel_ -in pawn. Undamped by adversity, they took a fiddler with them; and the -merry trio so enamoured the dwellers and wayfarers upon the road, that -they not only extracted plentiful supplies for themselves, but were -enabled to provide sufficiently for the bodily wants of the main body of -the company, who followed at a judicious and respectable distance. - -The pressure from without was, however, luckily but of temporary -endurance; and Richardson was soon well to do again in the world. Fair -succeeded fair, and he succeeded with all. His enterprise was great, and -his gains commensurate. He rose by degrees, and at length became the -most renowned of dramatic caterers for those classes who are prone to -enjoy the unadulterated drama. Why, his mere outside by-play was worth -fifty times more than the inside of large houses, to witness such trash -as has lately usurped the stage, and pushed Tragedy from her throne, and -Comedy from her stool. Of these memorabilia we can call to mind only a -few instances; but they speak volumes for the powers of entertaining -possessed by our hero. - -It was at Peckham one day,--and a day of rain and mud,--when Richardson, -stepping from the steps of his booth, as Moncey, the king of the -beggars, was shovelling past on _his boards_, happened to slip and fall. -We shall not readily forget the good-humour with which he looked, not -up, but level, upon his companion, and sweetly said, "'Faith! friend, it -seems that neither you nor I can keep our feet." - -At Brook Green, as the fair and happy were crushing up to the pay-door, -a pretty servant-girl was among the number. "I should like to _hire_ -that girl," said a dandy to his comrade. "I rather guess you would like -to _lower_ her," whispered Mr. R. in his ear. But she was a good lass, -and not at all like the French gentleman's maid, to whom her master -uttered these humiliating words: "Bah! you arre a verry bad girl, and I -shall make you _no_ better." - -Mr. R. misliked drunkenness in his troop. "A fellow," he exclaimed to -one he was rating for this vice,--"a fellow who gets tipsy every night -will never be _a rising man_ in any profession." - -In a remote village some accident had destroyed a grotto necessary to -the representation of the piece entitled "The Nymphs of the Grotto." -What was to be done? There was no machinist within a hundred miles! "Is -there not an _undertaker_?" exclaimed Mr. R.: "he could surely execute a -little shell-work!" - -In an adjoining booth at Camberwell was exhibited a very old man, whom -the placards declared to have reached _a hundred and five years of age_. -"Here is a pretty thing to make a show of," observed R. "A wonder, -indeed! Why, if my grandfather had not died, he would have been _a -hundred and twenty_!" - -But why should we dwell on his facetiæ? Only to point the poignant grief -which tells us we shall never hear them more,--shall never look upon his -like again! Yes: let others mourn their Prichards, their Garricks, their -Kembles, and their Keans;--our _keen_ is for thee, John Richardson, the -undisputed head of thy profession, the master-spirit of them all, the -glory of the mighty multitude, - - "Where thou wert fairest of the _Fair_." - -And how liberal thou wert! Thou wert not a manager to debar from their -just privileges thy dramatic brethren, or insult the literary characters -who honourably patronised thy honourable endeavours. Thy "Walk up!" was -open and generous. When Jack Reeve and a party from the Adelphi visited -the splendid booth at Bartholomew Fair, the veteran recognised his -brethren of the buskin, and immediately returned to them the money they -had paid on entrance, disdaining to pocket the hard-earned fruits of the -stage. "You, or any other actor of talent," said the old man, "are quite -welcome to visit my theatre free of expense." "No, no," replied Reeve, -"keep it, or (noticing a dissenting shake of the head) give it to the -poor." "If I have made a mistake," retorted John, "and have not done so -_already_, give it to them yourself; I will have nothing to do with it, -and I am not going to turn parish overseer." - -At length, alas! his days--his fair days--were numbered, and, as the -song says, "the good old man must die." As his first, so was his last -exhibition at Smithfield; but Smithfield, like the other national -theatres, shorn of its splendour, degenerate, and degraded. It seemed -as if the last of the fairs: others had been abolished and put down; -and this, the topmost of them all, was sinking under the march of -intellect, the diffusion of knowledge, and the confusion of reform. -Fairs in Britain were ended, and it was not worth Richardson's while -to live any longer. He retired, tired and dejected, to his "Woodland -Cottage" in Horsemonger-lane; and on the morning of the 14th of November -was expected by the Angel of Death. His finale was serene: his life -had been strange and varied, but industrious and frugal. The last time -we saw him,--and it was to engage him on his last loyal and public -patriotic work, namely, to erect the scaffolding for the inauguration -of the statue of George III. in Cockspur-street,--he approached us with -a fine cabbage under his arm, which he had been purchasing for dinner. -His manners, too, were equally simple and unaffected;--he was the -Cincinnatus of his order. He told us of the satisfaction he had given -to George IV. by transporting the giraffe in a beautiful caravan to -Windsor Park. The caravan was Richardson's world; and he might well have -applied to that vehicle the eastern apologue, "the place which changes -its occupants so often is not a palace, but a 'caravan'-serai." But we -are giving way to sorrow, though "away with melancholy" is our motto. A -wide-mouthed musician--we forget whether clarionet or trombone--applied -to Richardson at Easter for an engagement at Greenwich fair: "You won't -do any thing till Christmas," said he: "you must wait, as you are only -fit for a Wait: you are one to play from ear to ear." - -It is said that Richardson died rich; and indeed the sale of his effects -by auction showed that if other persons were men of property, he was a -man of properties. Three hundred and thirty-four lots of multitudinous -composition were submitted to the hammer; and it was truly a jubilee to -see how the Jews did outbid each other. There were Nathan, and Hart, -and Clarke, and Levy, besides an inferior and dirtier lot, who got -velvets, and silks, and satins, for the old song, "Old Clo'!" Though -their late owner, in the heyday of his prime, observed, "I have to show -my dresses by daylight, and they must be first-rate; anything will do -for the large theatres in the night-time, either green-baize, or tin, or -dog-skins for ermine;" yet their prices were by no means considerable. -Two Lear's dresses, two Dutch and one Jew's ditto, sold for thirty-five -shillings; one spangled Harlequin's dress, one clown's, one magician's, -and pantaloon's, came to one pound eleven shillings and sixpence; five -priests' and a cardinal's dress, and the next lot, six robbers' dresses -and a cardinal's dress, went very low; and six satyrs' dresses were -absolutely given away. A large scene waggon brought fourteen pounds, and -a ditto scene carriage only eight pounds. Then there were sundries of -curious character in the catalogue: - -Ten common w_h_igs, trick-bottle, and trick-box (probably what Stanley -called the thimble-rig). - -A trick-sword, a coffin and pall: tomb of _Capulate_. - -_The_ old oak chest, with skeleton and two inscriptions (a very superior -property). - -A spangled woman's dress, white gown, &c. complete. - -Two handsome spangled women's dresses, with caps, complete. - -Five chintz women's dresses, two bow [qy. beau?] strings and scarf, -eight fans, four baskets, and fifteen tails. - -A man's ghost dress, complete. - -A handsome woman's velvet dress, and Roman father's ditto. - -Three magicians' dresses, and five musicians' ditto. - -Nine spangled flys. - -A handsome demon's dress, spangled and ornamented with gilt [guilt] -mask, and mace. - -Four demons' dresses, with _masks, complete_! - -_Executioner's_ dress and cap, complete; six black gowns, and _four -falls_. - -A superfine admiral's coat and hat, trimmed with gold lace, breeches, -and waistcoat. - -Ditto (no breeches). - -Lion, bear, monkey, and cat's dresses, with two masks. - -Two handsome _nondescript_ dresses. - -Such and so various were the articles in this unique three days' sale; -and in the last some pieces of good old china were knocked down. Three -weeks previously their owner was deposited in the cold church-yard of -Great Marlow, in the grave, we are assured, of the Spotted Boy. The -funeral was, at his request, conducted without _Show_; and his nephews -and nieces--for he left no family--inherit his worldly wealth, under -the executorship of Mr. Cross, the proprietor of the Surrey Zoological -Garden and its giraffery. - -Many actors who have risen to celebrity began their course with him: -Kean, first as outside and inside tumbling boy, and afterwards as a -lending tragedian, with a salary of five shillings a day; Oxberry, -Mitchell, Walbourn, and Sanders, A. Slader, Thwaites, Vaughan, S. -Faucett, &c. were introduced to the public under his auspices. Who now -shall open the gates of the temple to dramatic fame? The Janitor is gone -for ever. A hearse is the last omnibus, after all. A hearse is the end -of the showman's caravans, and the sexton is the last toll-collector he -encounters in this world. John Richardson, - - FAREWELL! - - - - - PADDY BLAKE'S ECHO. - A NEW VERSION FROM THE ORIGINAL IRISH. - - "_Ecco_ ridente," &c. - - I. - There's a spot by that lake, sirs, - Where echoes were born, - Where one Paddy Blake, sirs, - Was walking one morn - With a great curiosity big in his mind! - Says he, "Mrs. Blake - Doesn't _trate_ me of late - In the fashion she did - When I first call'd her Kate: - She's crusty and surly,-- - My cabin's the _dhiaoul_, - My pigs and my poultry - Are all cheek by jowl; - But what is the cause, from the _A_cho I'll find." - - (_Spoken._) - -So up he goes _bouldly_ to the _A_cho, and says, "The top o' the mornin' -t'ye, Misther or Missus _A_cho, for divil a know I know whether ye wear -petticoats or breeches." - -"Neither," says the _A_cho in Irish. - -"Now, that being the case," says Paddy, turnin' sharp 'pon the _A_cho, -d'ye see, "ye can tell me the stark-naked truth." - -"'Troth, an' ye may say that, with yir own purty mouth," says the _A_cho. - -"Well, thin," says Paddy agin, "what the divil's come over Mrs. Blake of -late?" - -"_Potcheen!_" says the _A_cho. - -"Oh! (_shouting_) by the pow'rs of Moll Kelly," says Paddy, "I thought -as mich:-- - - "It wasn't for nothin' the taypot was hid, - Though I guess'd what was in it, by smelling the lid!" - - II. - There's another suspicion - Comes over my mind, - That with all this _contrition_ - And pray'rs, and that kind, - Ould Father Mahony's a wag in his way. - When a _station_, he says, - Will be held at _my_ house, - _I_ must go my ways, - Or be mute as a mouse. - For _him_ turkey and bacon - Is pull'd from the shelf; - Not so much as a cake on - The coals for myself: - But what all this _manes_, why, the _A_cho will say. - - (_Spoken._) - -Up he goes agin to the _A_cho, and says, "Tell me, aff ye plase, what -is't brings ould Father Mahony so everlastingly to my country seat in -the bog of Bally Keeran?" - -"Mrs. Blake!" says the _A_cho. - -"Oh! hannimandhiaoul!" says Paddy, "I thought as mich--the thief o' the -world--I thought as mich. Oh! tundher-a-nouns! - - "I'll go home an' _bate_ her, until my heart's sore, - Then give her the key of the street evermore!" - W. - - - - - RECOLLECTIONS OF CHILDHOOD. - BY THE AUTHOR OF HEADLONG HALL. - - THE ABBEY HOUSE. - -I passed many of my earliest days in a country town, on whose immediate -outskirts stood an ancient mansion, bearing the name of the Abbey House. -This mansion has long since vanished from the face of the earth; but -many of my pleasantest youthful recollections are associated with it, -and in my mind's eye I still see it as it stood, with its amiable, -simple-mannered, old English inhabitants. - -The house derived its name from standing near, though not actually -on, the site of one of those rich old abbies, whose demesnes the pure -devotion of Henry the Eighth transferred from their former occupants -(who foolishly imagined they had a right to them, though they lacked -the might which is its essence,) to the members of his convenient -parliamentary chorus, who helped him to run down his Scotch octave of -wives. Of the abbey itself a very small portion remained: a gateway, -and a piece of a wall which formed part of the enclosure of an orchard, -wherein a curious series of fish-ponds, connected by sluices, was -fed from a contiguous stream with a perpetual circulation of fresh -water,--a sort of piscatorial panopticon, where all approved varieties -of fresh-water fish had been classified, each in its own pond, and kept -in good order, clean and fat, for the mortification of the flesh of the -monastic brotherhood on fast-days. - -The road which led to the Abbey House terminated as a carriage-road -with the house itself. Beyond it, a footpath over meadows conducted -across a ferry to a village about a mile distant. A large clump of old -walnut-trees stood on the opposite side of the road to a pair of massy -iron gates, which gave entrance to a circular gravel road, encompassing -a large smooth lawn, with a sun-dial in the centre, and bordered on both -sides with tall thick evergreens and flowering shrubs, interspersed in -the seasons with hollyhocks, sun-flowers, and other gigantic blossoms, -such as are splendid in distance. Within, immediately opposite the -gates, a broad flight of stone steps led to a ponderous portal, and -to a large antique hall, laid with a chequered pavement of black and -white marble. On the left side of the entrance was the porter's chair, -consisting of a cushioned seat, occupying the depth of a capacious -recess resembling a niche for a full-sized statue, a well-stuffed body -of black leather glittering with gold-headed nails. On the right of -this hall was the great staircase; on the left a passage to a wing -appropriated to the domestics. - -Facing the portal, a door opened into an inner hall, in the centre of -which was a billiard-table. On the right of this hall was a library; -on the left a parlour, which was the common sitting-room; and facing -the middle door was a glazed door, opening on the broad flight of stone -steps which led into the gardens. - -The gardens were in the old style: a large square lawn occupied an ample -space in the centre, separated by broad walks from belts of trees and -shrubs on each side; and in front were two advancing groves, with a long -wide vista between them, looking to the open country, from which the -grounds were separated by a terraced wall over a deep sunken dyke. One -of the groves we called the green grove, and the other the dark grove. -The first had a pleasant glade, with sloping banks covered with flowery -turf; the other was a mass of trees, too closely canopied with foliage -for grass to grow beneath them. - -The family consisted of a gentleman and his wife, with two daughters -and a son. The eldest daughter was on the confines of womanhood, the -youngest was little more than a child; the son was between them. I do -not know his exact age, but I was seven or eight, and he was two or -three years more. - -The family lived, from taste, in a very retired manner; but to the few -whom they received they were eminently hospitable. I was perhaps the -foremost among these few; for Charles, who was my schoolfellow, was -never happy in our holidays unless I was with him. A frequent guest -was an elderly male relation, much respected by the family,--but no -favourite of Charles, over whom he was disposed to assume greater -authority than Charles was willing to acknowledge. - -The mother and daughter had all the solid qualities which were -considered female virtues in the dark ages. Our enlightened age -has, wisely no doubt, discarded many of them, and substituted show -for solidity. The dark ages preferred the natural blossom, and the -fruit that follows it; the enlightened age prefers the artificial -double-blossom, which falls and leaves nothing. But the double blossom -is brilliant while it lasts; and when there is so much light, there -ought to be something to glitter in it. - -These ladies had the faculty of staying at home; and this was a -principal among the antique faculties that upheld the rural mansions of -the middling gentry. Ask Brighton, Cheltenham, _et id genus omne_, what -has become of that faculty. And ask the ploughshare what has become of -the rural mansions. - -They never, I think, went out of their own grounds but to church, or to -take their regular daily airing in the old family-carriage. The young -lady was an adept in preserving: she had one room, in a corner of the -hall, between the front and the great staircase, entirely surrounded -with shelves in compartments, stowed with classified sweetmeats, -jellies, and preserved fruits, the work of her own sweet hands. These -were distinguished ornaments of the supper-table; for the family dined -early, and maintained the old fashion of supper. A child would not -easily forget the bountiful and beautiful array of fruits, natural and -preserved, and the ample variety of preparations of milk, cream, and -custard, by which they were accompanied. The supper-table had matter for -all tastes. I remember what was most to mine. - -The young lady performed on the harpsichord. Over what a gulph of time -this name alone looks back! What a stride from that harpsichord to one -of Broadwood's last grand-pianos! And yet with what pleasure, as I -stood by the corner of the instrument, I listened to it, or rather to -her! I would give much to know that the worldly lot of this gentle and -amiable creature had been a happy one. She often gently remonstrated -with me for putting her harpsichord out of tune by playing the bells -upon it; but I was never in a serious scrape with her except once. I -had insisted on taking from the nursery-maid the handle of the little -girl's garden-carriage, with which I set off at full speed; and had not -run many yards before I overturned the carriage, and rolled out the -little girl. The child cried like Alice Fell, and would not be pacified. -Luckily she ran to her sister, who let me off with an admonition, -and the exaction of a promise never to meddle again with the child's -carriage. - -Charles was fond of romances. The "Mysteries of Udolpho," and all the -ghost and goblin stories of the day, were his familiar reading. I cared -little about them at that time; but he amused me by narrating their -grimmest passages. He was very anxious that the Abbey House should -be haunted; but it had no strange sights or sounds, and no plausible -tradition to hang a ghost on. I had very nearly accommodated him with -what he wanted. - -The garden-front of the house was covered with jasmine, and it was a -pure delight to stand in the summer twilight on the top of the stone -steps inhaling the fragrance of the multitudinous blossoms. One evening, -as I was standing on these steps alone, I saw something like the white -head-dress of a tall figure advance from the right-hand grove,--the dark -grove, as we called it,--and, after a brief interval, recede. This, at -any rate, looked awful. Presently it appeared again, and again vanished. -On which I jumped to my conclusion, and flew into the parlour with the -announcement that there was a ghost in the dark grove. The whole family -sallied forth to see the phenomenon. The appearances and disappearances -continued. All conjectured what it could be, but none could divine. In -a minute or two all the servants were in the hall. They all tried their -skill, and were all equally unable to solve the riddle. At last, the -master of the house leading the way, we marched in a body to the spot, -and unravelled the mystery. It was a large bunch of flowers on the -top of a tall lily, waving in the wind at the edge of the grove, and -disappearing at intervals behind the stem of a tree. My ghost, and the -compact phalanx in which we sallied against it, were long the subject of -merriment. It was a cruel disappointment to Charles, who was obliged to -abandon all hopes of having the house haunted. - -One day Charles was in disgrace with his elderly relation, who had -exerted sufficient authority to make him a captive in his chamber. -He was prohibited from seeing any one but me; and, of course, a most -urgent messenger was sent to me express. I found him in his chamber, -sitting by the fire, with a pile of ghostly tales, and an accumulation -of lead, which he was casting into dumps in a mould. Dumps, the -inexperienced reader must know, are flat circles of lead,--a sort of -petty quoits,--with which schoolboys amused themselves half a century -ago, and perhaps do so still, unless the march of mind has marched off -with such vanities. No doubt, in the "astounding progress of intellect," -the time will arrive when boys will play at philosophers instead of -playing at soldiers,--will fight with wooden arguments instead of wooden -swords,--and pitch leaden syllogisms instead of leaden dumps. Charles -was before the dawn of this new light. He had cast several hundred -dumps, and was still at work. The quibble did not occur to me at the -time; but, in after years, I never heard of a man in the dumps without -thinking of my schoolfellow. His position was sufficiently melancholy. -His chamber was at the end of a long corridor. He was determined not -to make any submission, and his captivity was likely to last till the -end of his holidays. Ghost-stories, and lead for dumps, were his stores -and provisions for standing the siege of _ennui_. I think, with the aid -of his sister, I had some share in making his peace; but, such is the -association of ideas, that, when I first read in Lord Byron's Don Juan, - - "I pass my evenings in long galleries solely, - And that's the reason I'm so melancholy," - -the lines immediately conjured up the image of poor Charles in the midst -of his dumps and spectres at the end of his own long gallery. - - - - - EPIGRAM. - BY JOYCE JOCUND. - - So well deserved is Roger's fame, - That friends who hear him most, advise - The EGOTIST to Change his name - To "Argus--with his hundred I's!" - - - [Illustration: The Spectre of Tappington] - - - - - FIRE-SIDE STORIES.--No. I. - THE SPECTRE OF TAPPINGTON. - -"It is very odd, though, what can have become of them?" said Charles -Seaforth, as he peeped under the valance of an old-fashioned bedstead, -in an old-fashioned apartment of a still more old-fashioned manor-house; -"'tis confounded odd, and I can't make it out at all. Why, Barney, where -are they? and where the d--l are you?" - -No answer was returned to this appeal; and the lieutenant, who was in -the main a reasonable person,--at least as reasonable a person as any -young gentleman of twenty-two in "the service" can fairly be expected -to be,--cooled when he reflected that his servant could scarcely reply -extempore to a summons which it was impossible he should hear. - -An application to the bell was the considerate result; and the footsteps -of as tight a lad as ever put pipe-clay to belt sounded along the -gallery. - -"Come in!" said his master. An ineffectual attempt upon the door -reminded Mr. Seaforth that he had locked himself in. "By Heaven! this is -the oddest thing of all," said he, as he turned the key and admitted Mr. -Maguire into his dormitory. - -"Barney, where are my pantaloons?" - -"Is it the breeches?" asked the valet, casting an inquiring eye round -the apartment; "is it the breeches, sir?" - -"Yes; what have you done with them?" - -"Sure then your honour had them on when you went to bed, and it's -hereabouts they'll be, I'll be bail;" and Barney lifted a fashionable -tunic from a cane-backed arm-chair, proceeding in his examination. -But the search was vain. There was the tunic aforesaid,--there was a -smart-looking kerseymere waistcoat; but the most important article in a -gentleman's wardrobe was still wanting. - -"Where _can_ they be?" asked the master with a strong accent on the -auxiliary verb. - -"Sorrow a know I knows," said the man. - -"It must have been the devil, then, after all, who has been here and -carried them off!" cried Seaforth, staring full into Barney's face. - -Mr. Maguire was not devoid of the superstition of his countrymen, but he -looked as if he did not subscribe to the _sequitur_. - -His master read incredulity in his countenance. "Why, I tell you, -Barney, I put them there, on that arm-chair, when I got into bed; and, -by Heaven! I distinctly saw the ghost of the old fellow they told me of, -come in at midnight, put on my pantaloons, and walk away with them." - -"Maybe so," was the cautious reply. - -"I thought, of course, it was a dream; but then,--where the d--l are the -breeches?" - -The question was more easily asked than answered. Barney renewed his -search, while the lieutenant folded his arms, and, leaning against the -toilet, sunk into a reverie. - -"After all, it must be some trick of my laughter-loving cousins," said -Seaforth. - -"Ah! then, the ladies!" chimed in Mr. Maguire, though the observation -was not addressed to him; "and will it be Miss Caroline, or Miss -Margaret, that's stole your honour's things?" - -"I hardly know what to think of it," pursued the bereaved lieutenant, -still speaking in soliloquy, with his eye resting dubiously on the -chamber door. "I locked myself in, that's certain; and--but there must -be some other entrance to the room--pooh! I remember--the private -staircase: how could I be such a fool?" and he crossed the chamber to -where a low oaken door-case was dimly visible in a distant corner. He -paused before it. Nothing now interfered to screen it from observation; -but it bore tokens of having been at some earlier period concealed by -tapestry, remains of which yet clothed the walls on either side the -portal. - -"This way they must have come," said Seaforth; "I wish with all my heart -I had caught them!" - -"Och! the kittens!" sighed Mr. Barney Maguire. - -But the mystery was yet as far from being solved as before. True, there -_was_ the "other door;" but then that, too, on examination, was even -more firmly secured than the one which opened on the gallery,--two heavy -bolts on the inside effectually prevented any _coup de main_ on the -lieutenant's _bivouac_ from that quarter. He was more puzzled than ever; -nor did the minutest inspection of the walls and floor throw any light -upon the subject: one thing only was clear,--the breeches were gone! "It -is _very_ singular," said the lieutenant. - - * * * * * - -Tappington (generally called Tapton) Everard, is an antiquated but -commodious manor-house in the eastern division of the county of Kent. A -former proprietor had been high sheriff in the days of Elizabeth, and -many a dark and dismal tradition was yet extant of the licentiousness of -his life, and the enormity of his offences. The Glen, which the keeper's -daughter was seen to enter, but never known to quit, still frowns darkly -as of yore; while an ineradicable bloodstain on the oaken stair yet bids -defiance to the united energies of soap and sand. But it is with one -particular apartment that a deed of more especial atrocity is said to be -connected. A stranger guest--so runs the legend--arrived unexpectedly at -the mansion of the "Bad Sir Giles." They met in apparent friendship; but -the ill-concealed scowl on their master's brow told the domestics that -the visit was not a welcome one. The banquet, however, was not spared; -the wine-cup circulated freely,--too freely, perhaps,--for sounds of -discord at length reached the ears of even the excluded serving-men as -they were doing their best to imitate their betters in the lower hall. -Alarmed, some of them ventured to approach the parlour; one, an old and -favoured retainer of the house, went so far as to break in upon his -master's privacy. Sir Giles, already high in oath, fiercely enjoined his -absence, and he retired; not, however, before he had distinctly heard -from the stranger's lips a menace that "There was that within his pocket -which could disprove the knight's right to issue that, or any other, -command within the walls of Tapton." - -The intrusion, though momentary, seemed to have produced a beneficial -effect; the voices of the disputants fell, and the conversation was -carried on thenceforth in a more subdued tone, till, as evening closed -in, the domestics, when summoned to attend with lights, found not only -cordiality restored, but that a still deeper carouse was meditated. -Fresh stoups, and from the choicest bins, were produced; nor was it -till at a late, or rather early, hour, that the revellers sought their -chambers. - -The one allotted to the stranger occupied the first floor of the -eastern angle of the building, and had once been the favourite apartment -of Sir Giles himself. Scandal ascribed this preference to the facility -which a private staircase, communicating with the grounds, had afforded -him, in the old knight's time, of following his wicked courses unchecked -by parental observation; a consideration which ceased to be of weight -when the death of his father left him uncontrolled master of his estate -and actions. From that period Sir Giles had established himself in what -were called the "state-apartments;" and the "oaken chamber" was rarely -tenanted, save on occasions of extraordinary festivity, or when the Yule -log drew an unusually large accession of guests around the Christmas -hearth. - -On this eventful night it was prepared for the unknown visitor, who -sought his couch heated and inflamed from his midnight orgies, and in -the morning was found in his bed a swollen and blackened corpse. No -marks of violence appeared upon the body; but the livid hue of the lips, -and certain dark-coloured spots visible on the skin, aroused suspicions -which those who entertained them were too timid to express. Apoplexy, -induced by the excesses of the preceding night, Sir Giles's confidential -leech pronounced to be the cause of his sudden dissolution: the body was -buried in peace; and, though some shook their heads as they witnessed -the haste with which the funeral rites were hurried on, none ventured to -murmur. Other events arose to distract the attention of the retainers; -men's minds became occupied by the stirring politics of the day, while -the near approach of that formidable armada, so vainly arrogating to -itself a title which the very elements joined with human valour to -disprove, soon interfered to weaken, if not obliterate, all remembrance -of the nameless stranger who had died within the walls of Tapton Everard. - -Years rolled on: the "Bad Sir Giles" had himself long since gone to his -account, the last, as it was believed, of his immediate line; though -a few of the older tenants were sometimes heard to speak of an elder -brother, who had disappeared in early life, and never inherited the -estate. Rumours, too, of his having left a son in foreign lands were at -one time rife; but they died away, nothing occurring to support them: -the property passed unchallenged to a collateral branch of the family, -and the secret, if secret there were, was buried in Denton churchyard, -in the lonely grave of the mysterious stranger. One circumstance alone -occurred, after a long intervening period, to revive the memory of these -transactions. Some workmen employed in grubbing an old plantation, for -the purpose of raising on its site a modern shrubbery, dug up, in the -execution of their task, the mildewed remnants of what seemed to have -been once a garment. On more minute inspection, enough remained of -silken slashes and a coarse embroidery to identify the relics as having -once formed part of a pair of trunk hose; while a few papers which fell -from them, altogether illegible from damp and age, were by the unlearned -rustics conveyed to the then owner of the estate. - -Whether the squire was more successful in deciphering them was never -known; he certainly never alluded to their contents; and little would -have been thought of the matter but for the inconvenient memory of one -old woman, who declared she had heard her grandfather say that when the -"stranger guest" was poisoned, though all the rest of his clothes were -there, his breeches, the supposed repository of the supposed documents, -could never be found. The master of Tapton Everard smiled when he heard -Dame Jones's hint of deeds which might impeach the validity of his own -title in favour of some unknown descendant of some unknown heir; and -the story was rarely alluded to, save by one or two miracle-mongers, -who had heard that others had seen the ghost of old Sir Giles, in his -night-cap, issue from the postern, enter the adjoining copse, and wring -his shadowy hands in agony as he seemed to search vainly for something -hidden among the evergreens. The stranger's death-room had, of course, -been occasionally haunted from the time of his decease; but the periods -of visitation had latterly become very rare,--even Mrs. Botherby, the -housekeeper, being forced to admit that, during her long sojourn at the -manor, she had never "met with anything worse than herself;" though, as -the old lady afterwards added upon more mature reflection, "I must say I -think I saw the devil once." - -Such was the legend attached to Tapton Everard, and such the story -which the lively Caroline Ingoldsby detailed to her equally mercurial -cousin Charles Seaforth, lieutenant in the Hon. East India Company's -second regiment of Bombay Fencibles, as arm-in-arm they promenaded a -gallery decked with some dozen grim-looking ancestral portraits, and, -among others, with that of the redoubted Sir Giles himself. The gallant -commander had that very morning paid his first visit to the house of -his maternal uncle, after an absence of several years passed with his -regiment on the arid plains of Hindostan, whence he was now returned -on a three years' furlough. He had gone out a boy,--he returned a man; -but the impression made upon his youthful fancy by his favourite cousin -remained unimpaired, and to Tapton he directed his steps, even before -he sought the home of his widowed mother,--comforting himself in this -breach of filial decorum by the reflection that, as the manor was so -little out of his way, it would be unkind to pass, as it were, the door -of his relatives without just looking in for a few hours. - -But he found his uncle as hospitable and his cousin more charming -than ever; and the looks of one, and the requests of the other, soon -precluded the possibility of refusing to lengthen the "few hours" into a -few days, though the house was at the moment full of visitors. - -The Peterses were there from Ramsgate; and Mr., Mrs., and the two Miss -Simpkinsons, from Bath, had come to pass a month with the family; -and Tom Ingoldsby had brought down his college friend the Honourable -Augustus Sucklethumbkin, with his groom and pointers, to take a -fortnight's shooting. And then there was Mrs. Ogleton, the rich young -widow, with her large black eyes, who, people did say, was setting her -cap at the young squire, though Mrs. Botherby did not believe it; and, -above all, there was Mademoiselle Pauline; her _femme de chambre_, who -"_Mon-Dieu_'d" everything and everybody, and cried "_Quel horreur!_" -at Mrs. Botherby's cap. In short, to use the last-named and much -respected lady's own expression, the house was "choke-full" to the -very attics,--all, save the "oaken chamber," which, as the lieutenant -expressed a most magnanimous disregard of ghosts, was forthwith -appropriated to his particular accommodation. Mr. Maguire meanwhile -was fain to share the apartment of Oliver Dobbs, the squire's own man; -a jocular proposal of joint occupancy having been first indignantly -rejected by "Mademoiselle," though preferred with the "laste taste in -life" of Mr. Barney's most insinuating brogue. - - * * * * * - -"Come, Charles, the urn is absolutely getting cold; your breakfast -will be quite spoiled: what can have made you so idle?" Such was the -morning salutation of Miss Ingoldsby to the _militaire_ as he entered -the breakfast-room half an hour after the latest of the party. - -"A pretty gentleman, truly, to make an appointment with," chimed in Miss -Margaret. "What is become of our ramble to the rocks before breakfast?" - -"Oh! the young men never think of keeping a promise now," said Mrs. -Peters, a little ferret-faced woman with underdone eyes. - -"When I was a young man," said Mr. Peters, "I remember I always made a -point of----" - -"Pray how long ago was that?" asked Mr. Simpkinson from Bath. - -"Why, sir, when I married Mrs. Peters, I was--let me see--I was----" - -"Do pray hold your tongue, P., and eat your breakfast!" interrupted his -better half, who had a mortal horror of chronological references; "it's -very rude to tease people with your family affairs." - -The lieutenant had by this time taken his seat in silence,--a -good-humoured nod, and a glance, half-smiling, half-inquisitive, being -the extent of his salutation. Smitten as he was, and in the immediate -presence of her who had made so large a hole in his heart, his manner -was evidently _distrait_, which the fair Caroline in her secret soul -attributed to his being solely occupied by her _agrémens_,--how would -she have bridled had she known that they only shared his meditations -with a pair of breeches! - -Charles drank his coffee and spiked some half-dozen eggs, darting -occasionally a penetrating glance at the ladies, in hope of detecting -the supposed waggery by the evidence of some furtive smile or conscious -look. But in vain! not a dimple moved indicative of roguery, nor did -the slightest elevation of eyebrow rise confirmative of his suspicions. -Hints and insinuations passed unheeded,--more particular inquiries were -out of the question:--the subject was unapproachable. - -In the mean time, "patent cords" were just the thing for a morning's -ride, and, breakfast ended, away cantered the party over the downs, -till, every faculty absorbed by the beauties, animate and inanimate, -which surrounded him, Lieutenant Seaforth of the Bombay Fencibles -bestowed no more thought upon his breeches than if he had been born on -the top of Ben Lomond. - - * * * * * - -Another night had passed away; the sun rose brilliantly, forming with -his level beams a splendid rainbow in the far-off west, whither the -heavy cloud, which for the last two hours had been pouring its waters on -the earth, was now flying before him. - -"Ah! then, and it's little good it'll be the claning of ye," -apostrophised Mr. Barney Maguire, as he deposited, in front of his -master's toilet, a pair of "bran-new" jockey boots, one of Hoby's -primest fits, which the lieutenant had purchased in his way through -town. On that very morning had they come for the first time under the -valet's depuriating hand, so little soiled, indeed, from the turfy ride -of the preceding day, that a less scrupulous domestic might, perhaps -have considered the application of "Warren's Matchless," or oxalic -acid, altogether superfluous. Not so Barney: with the nicest care had -he removed the slightest impurity from each polished surface, and there -they stood rejoicing in their sable radiance. No wonder a pang shot -across Mr. Maguire's breast as he thought on the work now cut out for -them, so different from the light labours of the day before; no wonder -he murmured with a sigh, as the scarce dried window-panes disclosed -a road now inch-deep in mud. "Ah! then, it's little good the claning -of ye!"--for well had he learned in the hell below that eight miles -of a stiff clay soil lay between the manor and Bolsover Abbey, whose -picturesque ruins, - - "Like ancient Rome, majestic in decay," - -the party had determined to explore. The master had already -commenced dressing, and the man was fitting straps upon a light -pair of crane-necked spurs, when his hand was arrested by the old -question,--"Barney, where are the breeches?" - - * * * * * - -Mr. Seaforth descended that morning, whip in hand, and equipped in -a handsome green riding-frock, but no "breeches and boots to match" -were there: loose jean trousers, surmounting a pair of diminutive -Wellingtons, embraced, somewhat incongruously, his nether man, _vice_ -the "patent cords," returned, like yesterday's pantaloons, absent -without leave. The "top-boots" had a holiday. - -"A fine morning after the rain," said Mr. Simpkinson from Bath. - -"Just the thing for the 'ops," said Mr. Peters. "I remember when -I was a boy----" - -"Do hold your tongue, P.," said Mrs. Peters,--advice which that -exemplary matron was in the constant habit of administering to "her -P.," as she called him, whenever he prepared to vent his reminiscences. -Her precise reason for this it would be difficult to determine, unless, -indeed, the story be true which a little bird had whispered into Mrs. -Botherby's ear,--Mr. Peters, though now a wealthy man, had received a -liberal education at a charity-school, and was apt to recur to the days -of his muffin-cap and leathers. As usual, he took his wife's hint in -good part, and "paused in his reply." - -"A glorious day for the Ruins!" said young Ingoldsby. "But, Charles, -what the deuce are you about?--you don't mean to ride through our lanes -in such toggery as that?" - -"Lassy me!" said Miss Julia Simpkinson, "won't you be very wet?" - -"You had better take Tom's cab," quoth the squire. - -But this proposition was at once overruled; Mrs. Ogleton had already -nailed the cab, a vehicle of all others the best adapted for a snug -flirtation. - -"Or drive Miss Julia in the phaeton?" No; that was the post of Mr. -Peters, who, indifferent as an equestrian, had acquired some fame as -a whip while travelling through the midland counties for the firm of -Bagshaw, Snivelby, and Ghrimes. - -"Thank you, I shall ride with my cousins," said Charles with as much -_nonchalance_ as he could assume,--and he did so; Mr. Ingoldsby, Mrs. -Peters, Mr. Simpkinson from Bath, and his eldest daughter with her -_album_, following in the family coach. The gentleman-commoner "voted -the affair d--d slow," and declined the party altogether in favour -of the gamekeeper and a cigar. "There was 'no fun' in looking at old -houses!" Mrs. Simpkinson preferred a short _séjour_ in the still-room -with Mrs. Botherby, who had promised to initiate her in that grand -_arcanum_, the transmutation of gooseberry jam into Guava jelly. - - * * * * * - -"Did you ever see an old abbey before, Mr. Peters?" - -"Yes, miss, a French one; we have got one at Ramsgate; he teaches the -Miss Joneses to parleyvoo, and is turned of sixty." - -Miss Simpkinson closed her album with an air of ineffable disdain. - -Mr. Simpkinson from Bath was a professed antiquary, and one of the first -water; he was master of Gwillim's Heraldry, and Milles's History of the -Crusades; knew every plate in the Monasticon, had written an essay on -the origin and dignity of the office of Overseer, and settled the date -of a Queen Anne's farthing. An influential member of the Antiquarian -Society, to whose "Beauties of Bagnigge Wells" he had been a liberal -subscriber, procured him a seat at the board of that learned body, -since which happy epoch Sylvanus Urban had not a more indefatigable -correspondent. His inaugural essay on the President's cocked hat was -considered a miracle of erudition; and his account of the earliest -application of gilding to gingerbread, a masterpiece of antiquarian -research. His eldest daughter was of a kindred spirit: if her father's -mantle had not fallen upon her, it was only because he had not thrown -it off himself; she had caught hold of its tail, however, while yet -upon his honoured shoulders. To souls so congenial what a sight was -the magnificent ruin of Bolsover! its broken arches, its mouldering -pinnacles, and the airy tracery of its half-demolished windows. The -party was in raptures; Mr. Simpkinson began to meditate an essay, and -his daughter an ode: even Seaforth, as he gazed on these lonely relics -of the olden time, was betrayed into a momentary forgetfulness of his -love and losses; the widow's eye-glass turned from her _cicisbeo_'s -whiskers to the mantling ivy; Mrs. Peters wiped her spectacles; and -"her P." pronounced the central tower to be "very like a mouldy Stilton -cheese,--only bigger." The squire was a philosopher, and had been there -often before; so he ordered out the cold tongue and chickens. - -"Bolsover Priory," said Mr. Simpkinson with the air of a -connoisseur,--"Bolsover Priory was founded in the reign of Henry the -Sixth, about the beginning of the eleventh century. Hugh de Bolsover had -accompanied that monarch to the Holy Land in the expedition undertaken -by way of penance for the murder of his young nephews in the Tower. -Upon the dissolution of the monasteries the veteran was enfeoffed in -the lands and manor, to which he gave his own name of Bowlsover, or -Bee-owls-over, (by corruption Bolsover,)--a Bee in chief, over three -Owls, all proper, being the armorial ensigns borne by this distinguished -crusader at the siege of Acre." - -"Ah! that was Sir Sidney Smith," said Mr. Peters; "I've heard of him, -and all about Mrs. Partington, and----" - -"P. be quiet, and don't expose yourself!" sharply interrupted his lady. -P. was silenced, and betook himself to the bottled stout. - -"These lands," continued the antiquary, "were held in grand serjeantry -by the presentation of three white owls and a pot of honey----" - -"Lassy me! how nice!" said Miss Julia. Mr. Peters licked his lips. - -"Pray give me leave, my dear----owls and honey, whenever the king -should come a rat-catching into this part of the country." - -"Rat-catching!" ejaculated the squire, pausing abruptly in the -mastication of a drumstick. - -"To be sure, my dear sir: don't you remember that rats once came under -the forest laws--a minor species of venison? 'Rats and mice, and such -small deer,' eh?--Shakspeare, you know. Our ancestors ate rats;" ("The -nasty fellows!" shuddered Miss Julia in a parenthesis) "and owls, you -know, are capital mousers----" - -"I've seen a howl," said Mr. Peters; "there's one in the Sohological -Gardens,--a little hook-nosed chap in a wig,--only it's feathers and----" - -Poor P. was destined never to finish a speech. - -"_Do_ be quiet!" cried the authoritative voice, and the would-be -naturalist shrank into his shell like a snail in the "Sohological -Gardens." - -"You should read Blount's 'Jocular Tenures,' Mr. Ingoldsby," pursued -Simpkinson. "A learned man was Blount! Why, sir, his Royal Highness the -Duke of York once paid a silver horse-shoe to Lord Ferrers----" - -"I've heard of him," broke in the incorrigible Peters; "he was hanged at -the Old Bailey in a silk rope for shooting Doctor Johnson." - -The antiquary vouchsafed no notice of the interruption; but, taking a -pinch of snuff, continued his harangue. - -"A silver horse-shoe, sir, which is due from every scion of royalty -who rides across one of his manors; and if you look into the penny -county histories, now publishing by an eminent friend of mine, you will -find that Langhale in Co. Norf. was held by one Baldwin _per saltum -sufflatum, et pettum_; that is, he was to come every Christmas into -Westminster Hall, there to take a leap, cry hem! and----" - -"Mr. Simpkinson, a glass of sherry?" cried Tom Ingoldsby hastily. - -"Not any, thank you, sir. This Baldwin, surnamed _Le ----_" - -"Mrs. Ogleton challenges you, sir; she insists upon it," said Tom still -more rapidly; at the same time filling a glass, and forcing it on -the sçavant, who, thus arrested in the very crisis of his narrative, -received and swallowed the potation as if it had been physic. - -"What on earth has Miss Simpkinson discovered there?" continued Tom; -"something of interest. See how fast she is writing." - -The diversion was effectual; every one looked towards Miss Simpkinson, -who, far too ethereal for "creature comforts," was seated apart on -the dilapidated remains of an altar-tomb, committing eagerly to paper -something that had strongly impressed her: the air,--the eye in a fine -frenzy rolling,--all betokened that the divine _afflatus_ was come. Her -father rose, and stole silently towards her. - -"What an old boar!" muttered young Ingoldsby; alluding, perhaps, to a -slice of brawn which he had just begun to operate upon, but which, from -the celerity with which it disappeared, did not seem so very difficult -of mastication. - -But what had become of Seaforth and his fair Caroline all this while? -Why, it so happened that they had been simultaneously stricken with the -picturesque appearance of one of those high and pointed arches, which -that eminent antiquary, Mr. Horseley Curties, describes as "a _Gothic_ -window of the _Saxon_ order;"--and then the ivy clustered so thickly -and so beautifully on the other side, that they went round to look at -that;--and then their proximity deprived it of half its effect, and -so they walked across to a little knoll, a hundred yards off, and, in -crossing a small ravine, they came to what in Ireland they call "a bad -step," and Charles had to carry his cousin over it;--and then, when -they had to come back, she would not give him the trouble again for the -world, so they followed a better but more circuitous route, and there -were hedges and ditches in the way, and stiles to get over, and gates to -get through; so that an hour or more had elapsed before they were able -to rejoin the party. - -"Lassy me!" said Miss Julia Simpkinson, "how long you have been gone!" - -And so they had. The remark was a very just as well as a very natural -one. They were gone a long while, and a nice cosey chat they had; and -what do you think it was all about, my dear miss? - -"Oh, lassy me! love, no doubt, and the moon, and eyes, and nightingales, -and----" - -Stay; stay, my sweet young lady; do not let the fervour of your feelings -run away with you! I do not pretend to say, indeed, that one or more -of these pretty subjects might not have been introduced; but the most -important and leading topic of the conference was--Lieutenant Seaforth's -breeches. - -"Caroline," said Charles, "I have had some very odd dreams since have -been at Tappington." - -"Dreams, have you?" smiled the young lady, arching her taper neck like a -swan in pluming. "Dreams, have you?" - -"Ay, dreams,--or dream, perhaps, I should say; for, though repeated, it -was still the same. And what do you imagine was its subject?" - -"It is impossible for me to divine," said the tongue; "I have not the -least difficulty in guessing," said the eye, as plainly as ever eye -spoke. - -"I dreamt of--your great grandfather!" - -There was a change in the glance--"My great grandfather?" - -"Yes, the old Sir Giles, or Sir John, you told me about the other day: -he walked into my bedroom in his short cloak of murrey-coloured velvet, -his long rapier, and his Ralegh-looking hat and feather, just as this -picture represents him; but with one exception." - -"And what was that?" - -"Why, his lower extremities, which were visible, were--those of a -skeleton." - -"Well!" - -"Well, after taking a turn or two about the room, and looking round him -with a wistful air, he came to the bed's foot, stared at me in a manner -impossible to describe,--and then he--he laid hold of my pantaloons, -whipped his long bony legs into them in a twinkling, and, strutting -up to the glass, seemed to view himself in it with great complacency. -I tried to speak, but in vain. The effort, however, seemed to excite -his attention; for, wheeling about, he showed me the grimmest-looking -death's head you can well imagine, and with an indescribable grin -strutted out of the room." - -"Absurd, Charles! How can you talk such nonsense?" - -"But, Caroline,--the breeches are really gone!" - - * * * * * - -On the following morning, contrary to his usual custom, Seaforth was -the first person in the breakfast-parlour. As no one else was present, -he did precisely what nine young men out of ten so situated would have -done; he walked up to the mantelpiece, established himself upon the -rug, and subducting his coat-tails one under each arm, turned towards -the fire that portion of the human frame which it is considered equally -indecorous to present to a friend or an enemy. A serious, not to say -anxious, expression was visible upon his good-humoured countenance, and -his mouth was fast buttoning itself up for an incipient whistle, when -little Flo, a tiny spaniel of the Blenheim breed,--the pet object of -Miss Julia Simpkinson's affections,--bounced out from beneath a sofa, -and began to bark at--his pantaloons. - -They were cleverly "built," of a light grey mixture, a broad stripe of -the most vivid scarlet traversing each seam in a perpendicular direction -from hip to ancle,--in short, the regimental costume of the Royal Bombay -Fencibles. The animal, educated in the country, had never seen such a -pair of breeches in her life--_Omne ignotum pro magnifico!_ The scarlet -streak, inflamed as it was by the reflection of the fire, seemed to -act on Flora's nerves as the same colour does on those of bulls and -turkeys, she advanced at the _pas de charge_; and her vociferation, like -her amazement, was unbounded. A sound kick from the disgusted officer -changed its character, and induced a retreat at the very moment when the -mistress of the pugnacious quadruped entered to the rescue. - -"Lassy me! Flo! what _is_ the matter?" cried the sympathising lady, with -a scrutinizing glance levelled at the gentleman. - -It might as well have lighted on a feather-bed.--His air of -imperturbable unconsciousness defied examination; and as he would not, -and Flora could not, expound, that injured individual was compelled -to pocket up her wrongs. Others of the household soon dropped in, and -clustered round the board dedicated to the most sociable of meals; -the urn was paraded "hissing hot," and the cups which "cheer, but not -inebriate," steamed redolent of hyson and pekoe; muffins and marmalade, -newspapers and Finnon haddies, left little room for observation on -the character of Charles's warlike "turn-out." At length a look from -Caroline, followed by a smile that nearly ripened to a titter, caused -him to turn abruptly and address his neighbour. It was Miss Simpkinson, -who, deeply engaged in sipping her tea and turning over her album, -seemed, like a female Chrononotonthologos, "immersed in congibundity -of cogitation." An interrogatory on the subject of her studies drew -from her the confession that she was at that moment employed in putting -the finishing touches to a poem inspired by the romantic shades of -Bolsover. The entreaties of the company were of course urgent. Mr. -Peters, who "liked verses," was especially persevering, and Sappho at -length compliant. After a preparatory hem! and a glance at the mirror -to ascertain that her look was sufficiently sentimental, the poetess -began:-- - - "There is a calm, a holy feeling, - Vulgar minds can never know, - O'er the bosom softly stealing,-- - Chasten'd grief, delicious woe! - Oh! how sweet at eve regaining - Yon lone tower's sequester'd shade-- - Sadly mute and uncomplaining----" - ---Yow!--yeough!--yeough!--yow!--yow! yelled a hapless sufferer from -beneath the table.--It was an unlucky hour for quadrupeds; and if "every -dog will have his day," he could not have selected a more unpropitious -one than this. Mrs. Ogleton, too, had a pet,--a favourite pug,--whose -squab figure, black muzzle, and tortuosity of tail, that curled like a -head of celery in a salad-bowl, bespoke his Dutch extraction. Yow! yow! -yow! continued the brute,--a chorus in which Flo instantly joined. -Sooth to say, pug had more reason to express his dissatisfaction than -was given him by the muse of Simpkinson; the other only barked for -company. Scarcely had the poetess got through her first stanza, when -Tom Ingoldsby, in the enthusiasm of the moment, became so lost to the -material world, that, in his abstraction, he unwarily laid his hand on -the cock of the urn. Quivering with emotion, he gave it such an unlucky -twist, that the full stream of its scalding contents descended on the -gingerbread hide of the unlucky Cupid. The confusion was complete; the -whole economy of the table disarranged; the company broke up in most -admired disorder; and "vulgar minds will never know" anything more of -Miss Simpkinson's ode till they peruse it in some forthcoming annual. - -Seaforth profited by the confusion to take the delinquent who had caused -this "stramash" by the arm, and to lead him to the lawn, where he had -a word or two for his private ear. The conference between the young -gentlemen was neither brief in its duration, nor unimportant in its -result. The subject was what the lawyers call tripartite, embracing the -information that Charles Seaforth was over head and ears in love with -Tom Ingoldsby's sister; secondly, that the lady had referred him to -"papa" for his sanction; thirdly and lastly, his nightly visitations and -consequent bereavement. At the two first items Tom smiled auspiciously; -at the last he burst out into an absolute "guffaw." - -"Steal your breeches? Miss Bailey over again, by Jove!" shouted -Ingoldsby. "But a gentleman, you say, and Sir Giles too--I am not sure, -Charles, whether I ought not to call you out for aspersing the honour of -the family!" - -"Laugh as you will, Tom,--be as incredulous as you please. One fact is -incontestible,--the breeches are gone! Look here--I am reduced to my -regimentals; and if these go, to-morrow I must borrow of you!" - -Rochefoucault says, there in something in the misfortunes of our very -best friends that does not displease us; certainly we can, most of us, -laugh at their petty inconveniences, till called upon to supply them. -Tom composed his features on the instant, and replied with more gravity, -as well as with an expression, which, if my Lord Mayor had been within -hearing, might have cost him five shillings. - -"There is something very queer in this, after all. The clothes, you say, -have positively disappeared. Somebody is playing you a trick, and, ten -to one, your servant has a hand in it. By the way, I heard something -yesterday of his kicking up a bobbery in the kitchen, and seeing a -ghost, or something of that kind, himself. Depend upon it, Barney is in -the plot!" - -It struck the lieutenant at once that the usually buoyant spirits of -his attendant had of late been materially sobered down, his loquacity -obviously circumscribed, and that he, the said lieutenant, had actually -rung his bell three several times that very morning before he could -procure his attendance. Mr. Maguire was forthwith summoned, and -underwent a close examination. The "bobbery" was easily explained. Mr. -Oliver Dobbs had hinted his disapprobation of a flirtation carrying -on between the gentleman from Munster and the lady from the Rue St. -Honoré. Mademoiselle boxed Mr. Maguire's ears, and Mr. Maguire pulled -Mademoiselle upon his knee, and the lady did _not_ cry _Mon Dieu!_ And -Mr. Oliver Dobbs said it was very wrong; and Mrs. Botherby said it was -scandalous, and what ought not to be done in any moral kitchen; and -Mr. Maguire had got hold of the Honourable Augustus Sucklethumbkin's -powder-flask, and had put large pinches of the best double Dartford into -Mr. Dobbs' tobacco-box; and Mr. Dobbs' pipe had exploded and set fire -to Mrs. Botherby's Sunday cap, and Mr. Maguire had put it out with the -slop-basin, "barring the wig;" and then they were all so "cantankerous," -that Barney had gone to take a walk in the garden; and then--then Mr. -Barney had seen a ghost! - -"A what? you blockhead!" asked Tom Ingoldsby. - -"Sure then, and it's meself will tell your honour the rights of it," -said the ghost-seer. "Meself and Miss Pauline, sir--or Miss Pauline -and meself, for the ladies comes first any how,--we got tired of the -hobstroppylous skrimmaging among the ould servants, that didn't know a -joke when they seen one; and we went out to look at the Comet,--that's -the Rory-Bory-alehouse, they calls him in this country,--and we walked -upon the lawn, and divel of any alehouse there was there at all; and -Miss Pauline said it was becase of the shrubbery maybe, and why wouldn't -we see it better beyonst the trees? and so we went to the trees, but -sorrow a Comet did meself see there, barring a big ghost instead of it." - -"A ghost? And what sort of a ghost, Barney?" - -"Och, then, divel a lie I'll tell your honour. A tall ould gentleman he -was, all in white, with a shovel on his shoulder, and a big torch in -his fist,--though what he wanted with that it's meself can't tell, for -his eyes were like gig-lamps, let alone the moon and the Comet, which -wasn't there at all; and 'Barney,' says he to me,--'cause why he knew -me,--'Barney,' says he, 'what is it you're doing with the colleen there, -Barney?' Divel a word did I say. Miss Pauline screeched, and cried -murther in French, and ran off with herself; and of coorse meself was in -a mighty hurry after the lady, and had no time to stop palavering with -him any way; so I dispersed at once, and the ghost vanished in a flame -of fire!" - -Mr. Maguire's account was received with avowed incredulity by both -gentlemen; but Barney stuck to his text with unflinching pertinacity. A -reference to Mademoiselle was suggested, but abandoned, as neither party -had a taste for delicate investigations. - -"I'll tell you what, Seaforth," said Ingoldsby, after Barney had -received his dismissal; "that there is a trick here, is evident; and -Barney's vision may possibly be a part of it. Whether he is most knave -or fool, you best know. At all events, I will sit up with you to-night, -and see if I can convert my ancestor into a visiting acquaintance. -Meanwhile your finger on your lip!" - - * * * * * - - "'Twas now the very witching time of night, - When churchyards yawn, and graves give up their dead." - -Gladly would I grace my tale with decent horror, and therefore I do -beseech the "gentle reader" to believe, that if all the _succedanea_ to -this mysterious narrative are not in strict keeping, he will ascribe -it only to the disgraceful innovations of modern degeneracy upon the -sober and dignified habits of our ancestors. I can introduce him, it is -true, into an old and high-roofed chamber, its walls covered on three -sides with black oak wainscoting, adorned with carvings of fruit and -flowers long anterior to those of Grinling Gibbons; the fourth side is -clothed with a curious remnant of dingy tapestry, once elucidatory of -some Scriptural history, but of _which_ not even Mrs. Botherby could -determine. Mr. Simpkinson, who had examined it carefully, inclined to -believe the principal figure to be either Bathsheba or Daniel in the -lions' den; while Tom Ingoldsby decided in favour of the King of Bashan. -All, however, was conjecture; tradition being silent on the subject. A -lofty arched portal led into, and a little arched portal led out of, -this apartment; they were opposite each other, and both possessed the -security of massy bolts on the interior. The bedstead, too, was not one -of yesterday; but manifestly coeval with days ere Seddons was, and when -a good four-post "article" was deemed worthy of being a royal bequest. -The bed itself, with all the appurtenances of paillasse, mattresses, &c. -was of far later date, and looked most incongruously comfortable; the -casements, too, with their little diamond-shaped panes and iron binding, -had given way to the modern heterodoxy of the sash-window. Nor was this -all that conspired to ruin the costume, and render the room a meet haunt -for such "mixed spirits" only as could condescend to don at the same -time an Elizabethan doublet and Bond-street inexpressibles. With their -green morocco slippers on a modern fender in front of a disgracefully -modern grate, sat two young gentlemen, clad in "shawl-pattern" -dressing-gowns and black silk stocks, much at variance with the high -cane-backed chairs which supported them. A bunch of abomination, called -a cigar, reeked in the left-hand corner of the mouth of one, and in the -right-hand corner of the mouth of the other;--an arrangement happily -adapted for the escape of the noxious fumes up the chimney, without that -unmerciful "funking" each other, which a less scientific disposition -would have induced. A small pembroke table filled up the intervening -space between them, sustaining, at each extremity, an elbow and glass of -toddy; and thus in "lonely pensive contemplation" were the two worthies -occupied, when the "iron tongue of midnight had tolled twelve." - -"Ghost-time's come!" said Ingoldsby, taking from his waistcoat pocket a -watch like a gold half-crown, and consulting it as though he suspected -the turret-clock over the stables of mendacity. - -"Hush!" said Charles; "did I not hear a footstep?" - -There was a pause: there _was_ a footstep--it sounded distinctly--it -reached the door--it hesitated, stopped, and--passed on. - -Tom darted across the room, threw open the door, and became aware of -Mrs. Botherby toddling to her chamber at the other end of the gallery, -after dosing one of the housemaids with an approved julep from the -Countess of Kent's "Choice Manual." - -"Good night, sir!" said Mrs. Botherby. - -"Go to the d--l!" said the disappointed ghost-hunter. - -A hour--two--rolled on, and still no spectral visitation, nor did aught -intervene to make night hideous; and when the turret-clock sounded at -length the hour of three, Ingoldsby, whose patience and grog were alike -exhausted, sprang from his chair, saying, - -"This is all infernal nonsense, my good fellow. Deuce of any ghost shall -we see to-night; it's long past the canonical hours. I'm off to bed; and -as to your breeches, I'll ensure them for twenty-four hours at least, at -the price of the buckram." - -"Certainly. Oh! thankye; to be sure!" stammered Charles, rousing himself -from a reverie, which had degenerated into an absolute snooze. - -"Good night, my boy. Bolt the door behind me; and defy the Pope, the -Devil, and the Pretender!" - -Seaforth followed his friend's advice, and the next morning came down to -breakfast dressed in the habiliments of the preceding day. The charm was -broken, the demon defeated; the light greys with the red stripe down the -seams were yet in _rerum naturâ_, and adorned the person of their lawful -proprietor. - -Tom felicitated himself and his partner of the watch on the result of -their vigilance; but there is a rustic adage, which warns us against -self-gratulation before we are quite "out of the wood."--Seaforth was -yet within its verge. - - * * * * * - -A rap at Tom Ingoldsby's door the next morning startled him as he was -shaving: he cut his chin. - -"Come in, and be d--d to you!" said the martyr, pressing his thumb on -the wounded epidermis. The door opened and exhibited Mr. Barney Maguire. -"Well, Barney, what is it?" quoth the sufferer, adopting the vernacular -of his visitant. - -"The Master, sir----" - -"Well, what does he want?" - -"The loanst of a breeches, plase your honour." - -"Why, you don't mean to tell me----By Heaven, this is too good!" -shouted Tom, bursting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. "Why, -Barney, you don't mean to say the ghost has got them again?" - -Mr. Maguire did not respond to the young squire's risibility; the cast -of his countenance was decidedly serious. - -"Faith, then, it's gone they are, sure enough. Hasn't meself been -looking over the bed, and under the bed, and in the bed, for the matter -of that, and divel a ha'p'orth of breeches is there to the fore at all: -I'm bothered entirely!" - -"Harkye! Mr. Barney," said Tom, incautiously removing his thumb, and -letting a crimson stream "incarnadine the multitudinous" lather that -plastered his throat,--"this may be all very well with your master, but -you don't humbug me, sir: tell me instantly what have you done with the -clothes?" - -This abrupt transition from "lively to severe" certainly took Maguire -by surprise, and he seemed for an instant as much disconcerted as it is -possible to disconcert an Irish gentleman's gentleman. - -"Me? is it meself, then, that's the ghost to your honour's thinking?" -said he, after a moment's pause, and with a slight shade of indignation -in his tones; "is it I would stale the master's things,--and what would -I do with them?" - -"That you best know: what your purpose is I can't guess, for I don't -think you mean to 'stale' them, as you call it; but that you are -concerned in their disappearance, I am satisfied. Confound this -blood!--give me a towel, Barney." - -Maguire acquitted himself of the commission. "As I've a sowl, your -honour," said he solemnly, "little it is meself knows of the matter; and -after what I seen----" - -"What you've seen? Why, what _have_ you seen? Barney, I don't want to -inquire into your flirtations; but don't suppose you can palm off your -saucer eyes and gig-lamps upon me!" - -"Then, as sure as your honour's standing there, I saw him; and why -wouldn't I, when Miss _Pauline_ was to the fore as well as meself, -and----" - -"Get along with your nonsense,--leave the room, sir!" - -"But the master?" said Barney imploringly; "and the breeches?--sure -he'll be catching cowld!" - -"Take that, rascal!" replied Ingoldsby, throwing a pair of pantaloons -at, rather than to, him; "but don't suppose, sir, you shall carry -on your tricks with impunity; recollect there is such a thing as a -tread-mill, and that my father is a county magistrate." - -Barney's eye flashed fire,--he stood erect and was about to speak; but, -mastering himself, not without an effort, he took up the garment, and -left the room as perpendicular as a Quaker. - - * * * * * - -"Ingoldsby," said Charles Seaforth, after breakfast, "this is now past -a joke; to-day is the last of my stay, for, notwithstanding the ties -which detain me, common decency obliges me to visit home after so long -an absence. I shall come to an immediate explanation with your father on -the subject nearest my heart, and depart while I have a change of dress -left. On his answer will my return depend; in the mean time tell me -candidly,--I ask it in all seriousness and as a friend,--am I not a dupe -to your well-known propensity to hoaxing? have you not a hand in----" - -"No, by Heaven! Seaforth; I see what you mean: on my honour, I am as -much mystified as yourself; and if your servant----" - -"Not he: if there be a trick, he at least is not privy to it." - -"If there _be_ a trick? why, Charles, do you think----" - -"I know not _what_ to think, Tom. As surely as you are a living man, so -surely did that spectral anatomy visit my room again last night, grin in -my face, and walk away with my trousers; nor was I able to spring from -my bed, or break the chain which seemed to bind me to my pillow." - -"Seaforth," said Ingoldsby, after a short pause, "I will--But hush! here -are the girls and my father. I will carry off the females, and leave you -clear field with the Governor: carry your point with him, and we will -talk about your breeches afterwards." - -Tom's diversion was successful: he carried off the ladies _en masse_ -to look at a remarkable specimen of the class _Dodecandria Monogynia_, -which they could not find; while Seaforth marched boldly up to the -encounter, and carried "the Governor's" outworks by a _coup de main_. I -shall not stop to describe the progress of the attack; suffice it that -it was as successful as could have been wished, and that Seaforth was -referred back again to the lady. The happy lover was off at a tangent; -the botanical party was soon overtaken; and the arm of Caroline, whom a -vain endeavour to spell out the Linnæan name of a daffy-down-dilly had -detained a little in the rear of the others, was soon firmly locked in -his own. - - "What was the world to them, - Its noise, its nonsense, and its 'breeches' all?" - -Seaforth was in the seventh heaven; he retired to his room that night -as happy as if no such thing as a goblin had ever been heard of, and -personal chattels were as well fenced in by law as real property. Not -so Tom Ingoldsby: the mystery--for mystery there evidently was,--had -not only piqued his curiosity, but ruffled his temper. The watch of -the previous night had been unsuccessful, probably because it was -undisguised. Tonight he would "ensconce himself,"--not indeed "behind -the arras,"--for the little that remained was, as we have seen, nailed -to the wall,--but in a small closet which opened from one corner of the -room, and, by leaving the door ajar, would give its occupant a view of -all that might pass in the apartment. Here did the young ghost-hunter -take up a position, with a good stout sapling under his arm, a full -half-hour before Seaforth retired for the night. Not even his friend did -he let into his confidence, fully determined that if his plan did not -succeed, the failure should be attributed to himself alone. - -At the usual hour of separation for the night, Tom saw, from his -concealment, the lieutenant enter his room; and, after taking a few -turns in it, with an expression so joyous as to betoken that his -thoughts were mainly occupied by his approaching happiness, proceed -slowly to disrobe himself. The coat, the waistcoat, the black silk -stock, were gradually discarded; the green morocco slippers were kicked -off, and then--ay, and then--his countenance grew grave; it seemed to -occur to him all at once that this was his last stake,--nay, that the -very breeches he had on were not his own,--that to-morrow morning was -his last, and that if he lost _them_----A glance showed that his mind -was made up; he replaced the single button he had just subducted, and -threw himself upon the bed in a state of transition, half chrysalis, -half grub. - -Wearily did Tom Ingoldsby watch the sleeper by the flickering light of -the night-lamp, till the clock, striking one, induced him to increase -the narrow opening which he had left for the purpose of observation. The -motion, slight as it was, seemed to attract Charles's attention; for he -raised himself suddenly to a sitting posture, listened for a moment, -and then stood upright upon the floor. Ingoldsby was on the point of -discovering himself, when, the light flashing full upon his friend's -countenance, he perceived that, though his eyes were open, "their sense -was shut,"--that he was yet under the influence of sleep. Seaforth -advanced slowly to the toilet, lit his candle at the lamp that stood on -it, then, going back to the bed's foot, appeared to search eagerly for -something which he could not find. For a few moments he seemed restless -and uneasy, walking round the apartment and examining the chairs, -till, coming fully in front of a large swing-glass that flanked the -dressing-table, he paused, as if contemplating his figure in it. He now -returned towards the bed, put on his slippers, and, with cautious and -stealthy steps, proceeded towards the little arched doorway that opened -on the private staircase. - -As he drew the bolt, Tom Ingoldsby emerged from his hiding-place; -but the sleep-walker heard him not: he proceeded softly down stairs, -followed at a due distance by his friend, opened the door which led out -upon the gardens, and stood at once among the thickest of the shrubs, -which there clustered round the base of a corner turret, and screened -the postern from common observation. At this moment Ingoldsby had nearly -spoiled all by making a false step: the sound attracted Seaforth's -attention, he paused and turned; and, as the full moon shed her light -direct upon his pale and troubled features, Tom marked, almost with -dismay, the fixed and rayless appearance of his eyes: - - "There was no speculation in those orbs - That he did glare withal," - -The perfect stillness preserved by his follower seemed to reassure -him; he turned aside, and, from the midst of a thickset laurustinus, -drew forth a gardener's spade, shouldering which he proceeded with -greater rapidity into the midst of the shrubbery. Arrived at a certain -point, where the earth seemed to have been recently disturbed, he -set himself heartily to the task of digging; till, having thrown up -several shovelfuls of mould, he stopped, flung down his tool, and very -composedly began to disencumber himself of his pantaloons. - -Up to this moment Tom had watched him with a wary eye; he now advanced -cautiously, and, as his friend was busily engaged in disentangling -himself from his garment, made himself master of the spade. Seaforth, -meanwhile, had accomplished his purpose; he stood for a moment with - - "His streamers waving in the wind," - -occupied in carefully rolling up the small-clothes into as compact a -form as possible, and all heedless of the breath of heaven, which might -certainly be supposed at such a moment, and in such a plight, to "visit -his frame too roughly." - -He was in the act of stooping low to deposit the pantaloons in the grave -which he had been digging for them, when Tom Ingoldsby came close behind -him, and with the flat of the spade---- - - * * * * * - -The shock was effectual; never again was Lieutenant Seaforth known to -act the part of a somnambulist. One by one, his breeches, his trousers, -his pantaloons, his silk-net tights, his patent cords, and his showy -greys with the broad red stripe of the Bombay Fencibles, were brought -to light, rescued from the grave in which they had been buried, like -the straw of a Christmas pie; and, after having been well aired by Mrs. -Botherby, became once again effective. - -The family, the ladies especially, laughed; Barney Maguire cried -"Botheration!" and _Ma'mselle Pauline_, "_Mon Dieu!_" - -Charles Seaforth, unable to face the quizzing which awaited him on all -sides, started off two hours earlier than he had proposed: he soon -returned, however; and having, at his father-in-law's request, given up -the occupation of Rajah hunting and shooting Nabobs, led his blushing -bride to the altar. - -Mr. Simpkinson from Bath did not attend the ceremony, being engaged -at the Grand Junction Meeting of _Sçavans_, then congregating from -all parts of the known world, in the city of Dublin. His essay, -demonstrating that the globe is a great custard, whipped into -coagulation by whirlwinds, and cooked by electricity,--a little too -much baked in the Isle of Portland, and a thought underdone about the -Bog of Allen,--is highly spoken of and, it is supposed, will obtain a -Bridgewater prize. - -Miss Simpkinson and her sister acted as bridesmaids on the occasion; -the former wrote an _epithalamium_, and the latter cried "Lassy me!" -at the clergyman's wig. But as of these young ladies, of the fair -widow, Mr. Sucklethumbkin, Mrs. Peters and her P. we may have more -to say hereafter, we take our leave for the present; assuring our -pensive public that Mr. and Mrs. Seaforth are living together quite as -happily as two good-hearted, good-tempered bodies, very fond of each -other, can possibly do; and that since the day of his marriage Charles -has shown no disposition to jump out of bed, or ramble out of doors -o' nights,--though, from his entire devotion to every wish and whim -of his young wife, Tom insinuates that the fair Caroline does still -occasionally take advantage of it so far as to "slip on the Breeches." - - - - - THE WIDE AWAKE CLUB. - BY RIGDUM O'FUNNIDOS. - -The clubs of London! I recollect once reading a book so called; but -as for any _bonâ fide_ information touching the _soi disant_ social -assemblies, I might as well have been perusing the Shaster, or reading -the Florentine copy of the Pandects! _The_ clubs of London afford, as I -have reason to know, ample material for the most abundant fun; but they -who expect to find it at Crockford's, the Athenæum, and other _maisons -de jeu_, where yawning dandies, expert _chevaliers_, old men of the -town, _roués_ of all sorts, - - Mingle, mingle, mingle, - As they mingle may, - -will be wofully disappointed. The clubs, _par excellence_, take them one -and all,--from the Oriental, stuck, with a due disposition and attention -to habits of Eastern indolence, in the dullest corner of the dullest -square in London, down to, or up to, I care not which, the staring -bow-windowed Omnibus Union in Cockspur-street,--are all alike destitute -of the requisite material. I perhaps may have a touch at them in the -middle of the session and season, when the _élite_ of the club-men -are in town, and when their sayings and doings may by possibility be -worth recording, even if it were only to have a laugh over them. But, -as Copp says, "let that pass for the present." The clubs that I intend -to introduce to the readers of the Miscellany are certain of those -convivial associations composed of the middlemen of society in the -metropolis, who assemble on certain stated nights in the week to sing -songs, smoke pipes, and imbibe moisture in the shape of divers goes of -spirit and pints of ale. My reminiscences of these assemblies, I think, -would fill a goodly tome. To begin with the last, Hebrew fashion. In was -my lot one evening, a short time since, to be introduced by Mr. Timmins, -my landlord, who, seeing I was rather low-spirited, volunteered the -invitation, on a social community called the "WIDE AWAKE CLUB." - -"Sir," said Mr. Timmins,--a very worthy knight of the needle, who called -me "the genelman wot lodges in my first floor," (whether up or down the -chimney, deponent sayeth not,)--"you looks werry oncomfutable this here -nasty evening. Prowisin it ain't takin' of too great a liberty, and you -feel noways disinclined, I think an hour or two at our club--(I have the -privilege of introducing a wisitor wot I can answer for in regard to -respectability)--might do you good." - -"And pray, Mr. Timmins, what is the character of your club?"--"Oh! -sir, the character of our club is _on_-doubted, sir; we are all men of -experence, sir: no one is admitted a member _on_less he shows he is a -_wide awake_ cove." - -"What do you mean by a wide awake cove," said I, "Mr. Timmins?"--"Vy," -said Timmins, "there's no von hellgibble to be a member on our society -but what gets a woucher from a member that he has a summut to say, and -prove wot has made him _wide awake_,--that is to say, more up and down -to the ways of the world than the generality of people, by experence." - -"You mean, if I understand you rightly, Mr. Timmins, that your club is -one where a certain number of persons meet to spend the social hours of -relaxation in giving each other the tale of some particular event or -occurrence that has taught them to know there is more roguery in the -world than certain philanthropists would lend us to believe."--"You've -hit it, sir," said Timmins; "down as a hammer." - -"Well, Timmins, I shall be happy to join you," I replied. - -During our walk, in answer to certain questions, Timmins informed me -that the president of the club was a Mr. Phiggins, a retired draper; -and that the leading members were Mr. Pounce, a lawyer's clerk, Mr. Bob -Jinks, a butcher, Mr. Shortcut, a tobacconist, Mr. Sprigs, a fruiterer. -"But," said Timmins, "you'll know them all in five minutes. I don't -think this wet evening, there will be a strong muster: howsomdever, we -can console ourselves that, if not numerous, we are select." - -"Very proper consolation, Timmins," said I. - -When we arrived at the _Three Pies_, the sign of the house where the -club was held, Timmins went up stairs to communicate the fact of my -being below, and to assure the company that all was regular and right, -as he said; and shortly afterwards I was ushered into the presence, -and introduced to the worthies previously named. The president, a -jolly-looking man about fifty, sat in an elevated chair at the top of -a long table, which gave a goodly display of pipes, glasses of grog, -&c. On each side, the members sat at their most perfect ease, smoking -and chatting. It would appear that they had been at business some time, -for it seemed ebb-tide with the contents of the glasses; and several -worthies were in the act of knocking the ashes out of their respective -pipes. After ordering a glass of punch and a segar, and another for -Timmins, a conversation which was going on before we came in was -resumed, of which the following is a faithful report. - -"That puts me in mind of M'Flummery," said Pounce, the lawyer's clerk, -putting his hand--accidentally, I suppose, of course,--into Shortcut's -open screw of tobacco, and filling his pipe therefrom; "I mean him as -was hung at the Old Bailey some ten years back." - -"And what was he hung for?" asked the president.--"Why, not exactly for -his good behaviour. He set out in life as heavy a swell as ever flowed -up in the regions of the West End--carried on the game for about a dozen -years in bang-up style.--My eye! how precious drunk he made Snatch'em, -the bum, and I, one night as we pinned him coming home in his cab from -the Opera to give a champaign supper at the Clarendon." - -"Champaign supper?" said the president. "Why, champaign is a wine; and -no man, I maintain, can make a supper off wine, 'coz wine is drink, and -supper, it stands to reason, is eating." - -"And no mistake," said Shortcut. - -"With submission, Mr. Chair," replied Pounce, "I'll explain. This -champaign supper meant a regular slap-up feed; but no one was allowed -any other drink with their grub, but champaign punch made with green tea -in a silver kettle." - -"I pity their stint," said Jinks. - -"Ay," said the president, "that stands to reason. But how did it happen -this gentleman came to be hanged?"--"Why," continued Pounce, "I was -a-coming to that point. As I said just now, there never was a greater -dasher at the West End than this M'Flummery; but, like many other -swells, he was very often lodging in Queer-street for the want of the -ready. One day he came to my old master Snaps, of the Temple, when I -was managing common-law clerk,--for, you see, he knew my governor well, -seeing that he had issued about fourteen writs against him. I never -shall forget the day he came: it was a precious wet 'un. He drove up to -the gate in a jarvey, and sent a porter down to our office to know if -Snaps was in, without sending his name. So Snaps sends me to see who it -was, and bring him down. When I got up to the coach, I spied M'Flummery. -'Ah! my man,' says he, quite familiar, 'how do you like champaign punch? -Here, just pay this fellow his fare,' says he, quite off-hand. 'I've no -change about me;' and off he bolts under the gateway, leaving me to fork -out an unknown man. Well! how was I to know what the Jarvey's fare was? -That was a pozer. I wasn't going to ask him, 'How much?' or where he -took up. No! I was too _wide awake_!" - -"WIDE AWAKE!" said the chairman, and down went a hammer of appropriate -brass upon the table three times. - -"Hear! hear! hear!" responded _omnes_. - -"So I tipped two shillings. 'Vot's this for?' said coachee, holding it -open in his hand, and looking at the money in a way money ought never by -no means to be looked at. 'Your fare from the Clarendon, Bond-street,' -said I, quite stiff and chuff. 'Fare be blowed!' said he; 'my fare's -eight bob.' 'Then you shall swear it and prove it,' said I, pulling out -a handful of silver, taking his number, and giving the wink to Hobbling -Bob, one of the porters, to be witness. 'Take your demand, and we'll -meet in Essex-street on Thursday.' 'Well,' says he, 'I ought to have -eight bob--what _will_ you give me?' 'Two,' said I. 'Well,' says he, 'I -ain't a going to stand chaffing in the wet with such a ----' and then -he abused me in a way I can't repeat. 'Overcharge and insolence!' said -I. 'We'll meet again at Philippi.' 'Fillip I,' said Jarvey, driving -off, 'I should like to fillip you!' In going back to the office, I -thought I ought to charge Mr. M'Flummery the eight shillings. Taking -into consideration that I had advanced money--that I had got wet--had -been abused, and last, though not least, that there was a strong risk -touching repayment. I entered the expenditure thus: 'Coachman's demand, -eight shillings. Paid _him_.' I said _him_, not _it_, you see, for I was -_wide awake_!" - -"WIDE AWAKE!" said the president, hitting the table three sonorous -clinks with the club-hummer of brass, again. - -"When I got back to the office, Snaps called for me through the pipe -to come up stairs:--he always had me as a witness when he was _doing -particular business_, such as discounting a bill, bargaining for a bond, -or arranging an annuity. - -"'Sort those papers,' said Snaps, scratching his left ear. - -"That means 'Cock your listeners,' thought I; and I proceeded to fumble -over a bundle of old abstracts as diligently as if I was hunting for a -hundred-pound note. - -"As I turned over the dusty papers, I overheard the following -conversation: - -"'So you can't manage it for me any way?' said M'Flummery to Snaps. - -"'I have not anything at my bankers',' answered Snaps,--(a lie, for his -was the best account of any professional man at Brookes and Dixon's, and -I had that morning paid in five hundred and eighty pounds eleven and -tenpence;)--'and, by the bye, Pounce, my confidential man, knows that. -Have I, Pounce?' - -"'Not anything,' said I; 'I'll be on my oath!' - -"With that M'Flummery said, 'It's cursed hard.--I must be at Newmarket -on Tuesday, and nothing less than two thousand will do for me.--So you -cannot get it on my bond or note?' - -"'Money is money, and holders are firm,' said Snaps. 'What do you think -of a mortgage? You gave, if I recollect right, six thousand for the -hunting-lodge and the acres in Leicestershire.' - -"'Yes!' replied M'Flummery, 'and lost it six months since in one -morning, at Graham's.' - -"'The house in Park Lane?' - -"'Belongs to Miss V. the rich old maid.' - -"'The furniture?' - -"'Is Gillow's.' - -"'Your stud?' - -"'I stalled at Tattersall's for six hundred advance.' - -"'Your commission?' - -"'Is pounded at Greenwood's for ditto.' - -"'Then, in point of fact,' said Snaps, 'Mister,'--(whenever Snaps -intended to say anything uncivil, he always addressed the favoured -individual as 'Mr.')--'in point of fact, Mr. M'Flummery, you are a -beggar, possessing neither house, land, goods, or chattels, or property -of any sort, kind, or description.' - -"M'Flummery bit his lips, and walked to the window, and Snaps continued, - -"'How, after making the avowals you have, Mr. M'Flummery, you could have -the impudence----' - -"'What do you say, wretch?' cried M'Flummery, rushing and collaring -Snaps, 'Impudence!' - -"'Pounce,' cried my master, 'an assault! Call the copying-clerks up.' -But while I was in the act of summoning the scribes down the pipe, -M'Flummery relaxed his hold, and said, - -"'I forgive you, Snaps! It certainly did warrant the term, after my -declarations of insolvency; but it just flashes across my mind,--how it -could have escaped me I know not,--that all is not so bad with me. I -have a chest of plate!' - -"'A chest of plate!' ejaculated Snaps. 'Why, my dear sir,----' - -"'A plate-chest!' said I. - -"'Yes,' continued M'Flummery, 'my splendid sporting service,--quite -new,--never used,--made not six months since by Rundell and Bridge. How -could I have forgotten this!' - -"'Sit down, my dear sir,' said Snaps. 'Your recollection of this -_com-plete-ly_ alters the case! Perhaps we _can_ manage the matter.' - -"'But money is money, I am afraid; and holders are firm, Mr. Snaps,' -said M'Flummery, with what I thought the most devilish and malicious -laugh that ever was uttered. - -"'True, true,' replied my master; 'but there is a mode of tempting even -a miser.' - -"'I think there is,' said M'Flummery, just as Old Nick might have spoken -the words, and looking Snaps full in the face. - -"'Where is the chest?" inquired Snaps. "There is no lien on it?' he -continued gravely. 'It is not at----" - -"'My uncle's? No, no!' - -"'Satisfactory so far. What might it have cost you?'--'Three thousand -pounds.' - -"'And you want _two_. It is possible, my dear sir, that the matter _can_ -be managed. I'll see about it directly. Call here to-morrow with the -chest, and we'll see what can be done. I'll go into the City directly.' - -"'Then I may as well go with you,' said M'Flummery; 'I will look in at -Rundell's on our way, where you can assure yourself of the fact and -value of the purchase.' So saying, my master and his client went out." - -"It does not yet seem clear to me," said the president, interrupting -Pounce at this period of his story, "how the gentleman came to be hung. -He seems to have been an honest man, who had more money than he thought -he had." - -"No, he had not," said Pounce; "for, before he went out of the office, -I asked him for the fare of the coach. 'Oh!' said he, quite cool, 'my -little quill-driver, I'll owe you that till to-morrow.'" - -"Well," resumed Pounce, after the waiter had been declared "in the -room," had "taken his orders," and gone "out of the room," and -re-entered the room with the said orders _executed_, preparatory -(paradoxical as it may read) to their being _despatched_,--"Well," -said Pounce, "when Mr. Snaps returned in the afternoon, he said to me, -rubbing his hands, 'Pounce, it's all right! I have seen the chest of -plate. I have handled and examined every article,--solid and beautiful! -as fine a service as ever was turned out of hand.' - -"'Glad to hear it, sir!' says I; 'I had my doubts;'--throwing as much -of knowingness into my look as befitted a confidential managing common -law-clerk when speaking to his governor. - -"'And so had I,' said Snaps seriously: 'but what do you think, Pounce?' -and my master beckoned me close to him. - -"'What _should_ I think, sir?' said I, deferentially,--'Why, he not only -bought this most splendid service of plate I ever saw--massive--solid; -but--but--' - -"'Yes, sir?'--'But he actually paid for it!' said Snaps; giving me a -playful dig in the ribs with one hand, while he took a huge pinch of -snuff in the other, snapping the dust off his fingers as though so many -crackers were exploding. - -"'I shouldn't have thought he was a good one for paying, Mr. Snaps,' I -replied, thinking of the fare. - -"'Nor I, Pounce,' said Snaps; 'but, hark-ye, be sure you are in the way -to-morrow at three;' and we parted,--Mr. Snaps being a religious man, -and deacon of Zion Tabernacle in Jehoshaphat Terrace, to attend lecture, -and I to finish a match at bumble-puppy at the Pig and Tweezers. - -"The very next day, at three, punctual came M'Flummery, and I'm blessed -if it didn't take four porters to carry the chest he brought with him. -(By the way, I may here promiscuously observe, that in the experience -of a long professional life I never knew but one case of unpunctuality -in the attendance of people who had _to receive_ money, and that was -explained by the fact of the party's dying of the cholera over night.) -The chest was duly brought up stairs, and deposited in a corner of Mr. -Snaps' private room." - -"'Now, Snaps,' said M'Flummery, 'I hope you are ready with the needful -two thousand upon the nail.'--'Why, my dear sir,' said my master, 'I -have with great difficulty been able to manage _one_ thousand.' - -"'Two thousand was the sum agreed for,' said M'Flummery.--'True, my dear -sir; but money is money.' - -"'Ay! and holders are firm, it appears, Snaps; but look at the security; -plate will always fetch a safe and certain sum.'--'Satisfactory; truly -so, my dear sir. Most unquestionable; but----' - -"'Come, we are losing time. In a word, put fifteen hundred down on -the desk, and we close; if not, I'm off to old Lombard.'--'Say twelve -hundred,' cried Snaps, 'and I'll see what I can do.' - -"'Fifteen,' said M'Flummery.--'It will not leave me a farthing,' said -Snaps; 'and if I do find the odd five hundred, it must be added to the -bond.' - -"'Well! add it, and be d--d to you, Shylock the second!' said -M'Flummery; 'you shall have your bond;' and he burst out into what I -considered an unnecessary loud laugh. - -"The money was counted, and the bond drawn out. - -"'But, now,' said my master, 'if you please, you'll pardon me, my -dear sir; but, in order that there may be no mistake, you will let my -confidential clerk, Pounce, take a view of the contents of the chest.' - -"'Most certainly,' said M'Flummery; and, unlocking it, he desired me to -see if the articles corresponded with the inventory. - -"I did so, and found that my master gave an approving look. After -lifting up the several trays, and handling and examining some four or -five articles, M'Flummery, turning to Snaps, said, - -"'Are you satisfied, Mr. Snaps?' - -"'Quite so,' said my master. - -"'Then there only remains one thing to satisfy me,' said M'Flummery, -locking the box and padlocks. 'This box will be in your possession for -eighteen months as security; but, as I do not wish to have _my plate -hired out_ or _used_, you will pardon me, Mr. Snaps,--I only say this in -order, as you observed, that there may be 'no mistake,'--I will put my -seal upon the chest, and keep the key!' - -"'The key!' said Snaps; 'my dear sir!' - -"'Why,' said M'Flummery, 'what do you want with the key? You have the -power at the end of eighteen months to break open the chest, and sell -the plate, in default of payment; but you have no power over the plate -till then. What, therefore, do _you_ want with the key?' - -"Snaps was beginning to say something; but M'Flummery stopped him short -by saying, 'It is a bargain, or it is not, Mr. Snaps. I seal the chest, -and keep the key.' - -"'Very well,' said Snaps, looking very much like a tiger that had -suddenly lost sight of his dinner. - -"This was accordingly done, the bond signed, and the money handed over; -and M'Flummery shook hands with my master, saying, - -"'Snaps, you are a cunning fellow!' - -"'Oh! my dear sir,' said my master, attempting to blush,--a feat, by the -way, he never accomplished during his life that I know of. - -"'But I recollect,' continued M'Flummery, 'an old fisherman telling me, -when I was a boy, that, deep as some fishes were in the sea, there were -always others that swam just as deep. Good-b'ye, old Shylock! you shall -have your bond.' So saying, he left. - -"I confess, this curious remark so astonished me that I quite forgot -at the moment to ask for the fare of the coach. My master also seemed -struck with the observation. - -"'What can he mean?' said Snaps; 'surely there is nothing wrong? Pooh! -pooh! impossible! There is the chest, and possession is nine points of -the law.' - -"'The first of the maxims, sir,' said I." - -Here Pounce paused, filled his pipe, and emptied his tumbler of grog -into that depository where grog had gone in _goes_ for years and years. - -"Well!" said the president, "may I be spiflicated,--ay, and -exspiflicated,--if you have not been humbugging us, Pounce, with a -pretty piece of bam! What the deuce has all that you have said to do -with the fact of the gentleman being hanged?" - -"Everything," cried Pounce. - -"I say _nothing_," said the president. - -"So do I," followed Shortcut. - -"Everything, I maintain," rejoined the lawyer's clerk; "_for_ six months -afterwards his words came true." - -"Whose?" shouted several of the company. - -"M'Flummery's," said Pounce; "he proved himself as deep and deeper than -Snaps. He was a _wide awake one_!" - -"WIDE AWAKE!" said the chairman; and down went the directing sceptre, -with the customary clink. - -"Hear! hear! hear!" resounded through the room. - -"Yes," continued Pounce; "about six months after, and about five in -the evening, a man came into the office, looking as like a turnkey or -Bow-street runner as any of you gentlemen might ever have known in your -life. He asked to see Mr. Snaps. - -"Just as I was preparing to give my master a hint by one of the -writing-clerks to be on his guard, who should walk into the office but -Snaps himself? - -"'I believe your name is Snaps?' said the hang-gallows-looking messenger. - -"Snaps was rather near-sighted, and it was getting dark, so that he did -not see the winks and nods of the head I was giving him. - -"'My name _is_ Snaps,' he answered. - -"'You're done,' thought I. - -"'Then you are the person I am to give this letter to,' says the man. - -"Snaps took the letter,--and, strange to say, it _was_ a letter,--coolly -read it, and, folding it up, said, to my great relief, 'Tell the -prisoner I shall attend;' and off went Grimgruffinhoff with his answer. - -"'M'Flummery is in Newgate for passing forged notes;' said my master, -taking a pinch of snuff. 'I thought he would be jugged some day,' he -said, with a half-laugh. 'He wants to see me to-morrow morning about -business of the greatest importance to _me_. What can he have to say to -_me_?' - -"'Ay, indeed!' said I, 'what sir?' - -"'It is as well that I should go,' said my master, 'for there may be -something----' - -"'True,' said I, 'there may be.' - -"The next morning we went to Newgate, which is not the most pleasant -lodging in that neighbourhood, although you have it in the biggest -house, and they charge you nothing for the apartments. When we entered -the prisoner's cell, he was busy writing. - -"'Snaps!' said he, 'I'm glad to see you here!' - -"'I am sorry I cannot return the compliment,' said my master. - -"'Never mind,' said M'Flummery; 'every dog has his day.' - -"'And then he is hanged,' said Snaps, drily, taking a pinch of snuff. - -"M'Flummery here gave a spasmodic groan, and exclaimed, 'As little -reference to my present condition as possible, Mr. Snaps. It was not -about myself that I requested your visit, but touching matters in which -you alone are interested.' - -"'Well, sir; and here I am," said Mr. Snaps. 'To tell you the truth, -I do not feel myself very comfortable in the place, so I shall feel -obliged by your stating the nature of your business with me as briefly -as possible.' - -"'I will,' said the prisoner, with a demonic look. 'You have, or _rather -think you have_, Mr. Snaps, a chest of plate.' - -"'What!' shrieked my master. 'Is it not silver? Have you cheated me?' - -"'You have often robbed me, Mr. Snaps,' was the reply; 'I but returned -the compliment. That which you believe is silver plate, manufactured -by Rundell and Bridge, was made at Sheffield, and cost me two hundred -pounds.' - -"Snaps groaned, and hid his face. - -"'It is true I did buy a service from those eminent goldsmiths; but, -after the Sheffield firm had copied the pattern, I pledged it with old -Lombard, the pawnbroker. It was redeemed for a day to satisfy you, Mr. -Snaps, and then repledged. The Earl of A. bought the duplicate, and now -has the real property, of which you have the counterfeit service.' - -"'You are a cursed villain,' said my master; 'and thank Heaven! you will -be hanged!' - -"'Only that a felon's cell in Newgate is not the most fit place to bandy -compliments in, I should willingly aspirate the same of you, Snaps!" - -"'And was it to tell me this, you atrocious scoundrel, that you sent for -me?' said my master. - -"'Not exactly,' answered M'Flummery; 'not exactly, Snaps; I want you to -do me a favour.' - -"'Was there ever such audacity?' said Snaps. 'Ask me to do you a favour! -You, who have told me to my face that you have swindled, cheated, -plundered, robbed me! A favour! Come Pounce,' he added, turning to me, -'let us be gone.' - -"'Stay!' said the prisoner; 'you have said I shall be hanged!' - -"'Ay, as sure as fate!' - -"'My fate is death, I know; but not perhaps by hanging. I have potent -interest at work for me at this moment; and, though sure of conviction, -I may yet get the sentence of death commuted to transportation for -life, and you would not like that would you, Snaps? You wish me -dead--dead--dead!' - -"After an inward struggle my master muttered out, 'I do.' - -"'Then, Mr. Clerk,' said M'Flummery, in a deep whisper, handing me -secretly a small sealed paper, 'be so good as to open this, when you -get outside these walls, and give it to your master.' Then, aloud to -Snaps, 'My business with you, _sir_, is finished.' So saying, he resumed -writing; and I led my master, who was trembling with agitation, revenge, -and passion, out of the cell and prison. - -"When we got into a coach, I produced the paper, and mentioned to my -master what M'Flummery had said. With trembling hand he opened it, and -read the following: - -"'Your soul burns with revenge. You wish me dead. It is my desire also -to die. There is a strong probability that I shall not undergo the last -punishment of the law. If you would render my death certain, and feed -your revenge, send me, in a small phial, an ounce of prussic acid: -and the bearer of your welcome gift shall carry back the fact that -M'Flummery the swindler, highwayman, and forger,--M'Flummery, who has -cheated all through life, has terminated his career by cheating the law!' - -"I shall never to my dying day forget the face of Snaps when he read -this. He did not say a word; and we sat silent till we got back to the -office. My master went up stairs, saying to me, 'Pounce, be silent as -the grave! and be ready when I call for you.' Shortly afterwards I heard -a loud hammering in his room. 'He's breaking open the chest,' said I; -and true enough he was. Curiosity led me up stairs; and, on entering the -room, there was Snaps, standing aghast over the open chest, with some -broken tea-spoons in his hand. - -"'The villain has told the truth,' said he. 'The contents of the chest -are not worth fifty pounds. I thought I had taken every precaution; but -I find I was not sufficiently _wide awake_.'" - -"WIDE AWAKE!" said the chairman, and down went the hammer. - -"Hear! hear! hear!" chorused the company. - -"And ever since then, gentlemen," said Pounce, "I have always had my -eyes open when doing a bill, when I had plate, the best of all possible -security." - -"But what became of M'Flummery?" asked Bob Jinks. - -"Ay!" said the president, "when was he hanged?" - -"He wasn't hanged at all," replied Pounce. - -"I'm blowed," said the chairman, "if I didn't think so, all along." - -"_How_ he got it I do not pretend to know," said Pounce, blowing his -nose, and looking aside, "but the very next day after we had paid him -a visit, he was found dead on his bed, with a small empty phial, that -smelt strongly of prussic acid, clenched in his fist." - -The clock here stuck twelve, the hour at which the club disperses -according to the rules; so Timmins and I toddled home. - - - - - OUR SONG OF THE MONTH. - No. III. March, 1837. - - I. - March, March! why the de'il don't you march - Faster than other months out of your order? - You're a horrible beast, with the wind from the East, - And high-hopping hail and slight sleet on your border: - Now, our umbrellas spread, flutter above our head, - And will not stand to our arms in good order; - While, flapping and tearing, they set a man swearing - Round the corner, where blasts blow away half the border! - - II. - March, March! I am ready to faint - That St. Patrick had not his nativity's casting; - I am sure, if he had, such a peaceable lad - Would have never been born amid blowing and blasting: - But as it was his fate, Irishmen emulate - Doing what Doom, or St. Paddy may order; - And if they're forced to fight through their wrongs for their right, - They'll stick to their flag while a thread's in its border. - - III. - March, March! have you no feeling, - E'en for the fair sex who make us knock under? - You cold-blooded divil, you're far more uncivil - Than Summer himself, with his terrible thunder! - Every day we meet ladies down Regent-street, - Holding their handkerchiefs up in good order; - But, do all that we can, the most merciful man - _Must_ see the blue noses peep over the border. - S. LOVER. - - - - - OLIVER TWIST; OR, THE PARISH BOY'S PROGRESS. - BY BOZ. - ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. - - - CHAPTER THE THIRD - - RELATES HOW OLIVER TWIST WAS VERY NEAR GETTING A PLACE, - WHICH WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN A SINECURE. - -For a week after the commission of the impious and profane offence -of asking for more, Oliver remained a close prisoner in the dark and -solitary room to which he had been consigned by the wisdom and mercy -of the board. It appears, at first sight, not unreasonable to suppose, -that, if he had entertained a becoming feeling of respect for the -prediction of the gentleman in the white waistcoat, he would have -established that sage individual's prophetic character, once and for -ever, by tying one end of his pocket handkerchief to a hook in the wall, -and attaching himself to the other. To the performance of this feat, -however, there was one obstacle, namely, that pocket handkerchiefs being -decided articles of luxury, had been, for all future times and ages, -removed from the noses of paupers by the express order of the board -in council assembled, solemnly given and pronounced under their hands -and seals. There was a still greater obstacle in Oliver's youth and -childishness. He only cried bitterly all day; and when the long, dismal -night came on, he spread his little hands before his eyes to shut out -the darkness, and crouching in the corner, tried to sleep, ever and anon -waking with a start and tremble, and drawing himself closer and closer -to the wall, as if to feel even its cold hard surface were a protection -in the gloom and loneliness which surrounded him. - -Let it not be supposed by the enemies of "the system," that, during the -period of his solitary incarceration, Oliver was denied the benefit -of exercise, the pleasure of society, or the advantages of religious -consolation. As for exercise, it was nice cold weather, and he was -allowed to perform his ablutions every morning under the pump, in a -stone yard, in the presence of Mr. Bumble, who prevented his catching -cold, and caused a tingling sensation to pervade his frame, by repeated -applications of the cane; as for society, he was carried every other -day into the hall where the boys dined, and there sociably flogged as a -public warning and example; and, so far from being denied the advantages -of religious consolation, he was kicked into the same apartment every -evening at prayer-time, and there permitted to listen to, and console -his mind with, a general supplication of the boys, containing a special -clause therein inserted by the authority of the board, in which they -entreated to be made good, virtuous, contented, and obedient, and to be -guarded - - [Illustration: Oliver escapes being bound apprentice to the Sweep] - -from the sins and vices of Oliver Twist, whom the supplication -distinctly set forth to be under the exclusive patronage and protection -of the powers of wickedness, and an article direct from the manufactory -of the devil himself. - -It chanced one morning, while Oliver's affairs were in this auspicious -and comfortable state, that Mr. Gamfield, chimney-sweeper, was wending -his way adown the High-street, deeply cogitating in his mind, his -ways and means of paying certain arrears of rent, for which his -landlord had become rather pressing. Mr. Gamfield's most sanguine -calculation of funds could not raise them within full five pounds of -the desired amount; and, in a species of arithmetical desperation, he -was alternately cudgelling his brains and his donkey, when, passing the -workhouse, his eyes encountered the bill on the gate. - -"Woo!" said Mr. Gamfield, to the donkey. - -The donkey was in a state of profound abstraction,--wondering, probably, -whether he was destined to be regaled with a cabbage-stalk or two, when -he had disposed of the two sacks of soot with which the little cart was -laden; so, without noticing the word of command, he jogged onwards. - -Mr. Gamfield growled a fierce imprecation on the donkey generally, -but more particularly on his eyes; and, running after him, bestowed a -blow on his head which would inevitably have beaten in any skull but a -donkey's; then, catching hold of the bridle, he gave his jaw a sharp -wrench, by way of gentle reminder that he was not his own master: and, -having by these means turned him round, he gave him another blow on the -head, just to stun him till he came back again; and, having done so, -walked up to the gate to read the bill. - -The gentleman with the white waistcoat was standing at the gate with -his hands behind him, after having delivered himself of some profound -sentiments in the board-room. Having witnessed the little dispute -between Mr. Gamfield and the donkey, he smiled joyously when that person -came up to read the bill, for he saw at once that Mr. Gamfield was just -exactly the sort of master Oliver Twist wanted. Mr. Gamfield smiled, -too, as he perused the document, for five pounds was just the sum he had -been wishing for; and, as to the boy with which it was encumbered, Mr. -Gamfield, knowing what the dietary of the workhouse was, well knew he -would be a nice small pattern, just the very thing for register stoves. -So he spelt the bill through again, from beginning to end; and then, -touching his fur cap in token of humility, accosted the gentleman in the -white waistcoat. - -"This here boy, sir, wot the parish wants to 'prentis," said Mr. -Gamfield. - -"Yes, my man," said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, with a -condescending smile, "what of him?" - -"If the parish vould like him to learn a light, pleasant trade, in a -good 'spectable chimbley-sweepin' bisness," said Mr. Gamfield, "I wants -a 'prentis, and I'm ready to take him." - -"Walk in," said the gentlemen with the white waistcoat. And Mr. Gamfield -having lingered behind, to give the donkey another blow on the head, and -another wrench of the jaw as a caution not to run away in his absence, -followed the gentleman with the white waistcoat, into the room where -Oliver had first seen him. - -"It's a nasty trade," said Mr. Limbkins, when Gamfield had again stated -his wish. - -"Young boys have been smothered in chimneys, before now," said another -gentleman. - -"That's acause they damped the straw afore they lit it in the chimbley -to make 'em come down again," said Gamfield; "that's all smoke, and no -blaze; vereas smoke ain't o' no use at all in makin' a boy come down; it -only sinds him to sleep, and that's wot he likes. Boys is wery obstinit, -and wery lazy, gen'lm'n, and there's nothink like a good hot blaze to -make 'em come down vith a run; it's humane too, gen'lm'n, acause, even -if they've stuck in the chimbley, roastin' their feet makes 'em struggle -to hextricate theirselves." - -The gentleman in the white waistcoat appeared very much amused with -this explanation; but his mirth was speedily checked by a look from -Mr. Limbkins. The board then proceeded to converse among themselves -for a few minutes; but in so low a tone that the words "saving of -expenditure," "look well in the accounts," "have a printed report -published," were alone audible: and they only chanced to be heard on -account of their being very frequently repeated with great emphasis. - -At length the whispering ceased, and the members of the board having -resumed their seats, and their solemnity, Mr. Limbkins said, - -"We have considered your proposition, and we don't approve of it." - -"Not at all," said the gentleman in the white waistcoat. - -"Decidedly not," added the other members. - -As Mr. Gamfield did happen to labour under the slight imputation of -having bruised three or four boys to death, already, it occurred to him -that the board had perhaps, in some unaccountable freak, taken it into -their heads that this extraneous circumstance ought to influence their -proceedings. It was very unlike their general mode of doing business, if -they had; but still, as he had no particular wish to revive the rumour, -he twisted his cap in his hands, and walked slowly from table. - -"So you won't let me have him, gen'lmen," said Mr. Gamfield, pausing -near the door. - -"No," replied Mr. Limbkins; "at least, as it's a nasty business, we -think you ought to take something less than the premium we offered." - -Mr. Gamfield's countenance brightened, as, with a quick step he returned -to the table, and said, - -"What'll you give, gen'lmen, however this page all spelt as shown? Come, -don't be too hard on a poor man. What'll you give?" - -"I should say three pound ten was plenty," said Mr. Limbkins. - -"Ten shillings too much," said the gentleman in the white waistcoat. - -"Come," said Gamfield; "say four pound, gen'lmen. Say four pound, and -you've got rid of him for good and all. There!" - -"Three pound ten," repeated Mr. Limbkins, firmly. - -"Come, I'll split the difference, gen'lmen," urged Gamfield. -"Three pound fifteen." - -"Not a farthing more," was the firm reply of Mr. Limbkins. - -"You're desp'rate hard upon me, gen'lmen," said Gamfield, wavering. - -"Pooh! pooh! nonsense!" said the gentlemen in the white waistcoat. "He'd -be cheap with nothing at all, as a premium. Take him, you silly fellow! -He's just the boy for you. He wants the stick now and then; it'll do -him good; and his board needn't come very expensive, for he hasn't been -overfed since he was born. Ha! ha! ha!" - -Mr. Gamfield gave an arch look at the faces round the table, and, -observing a smile on all of them, gradually broke into a smile himself. -The bargain was made, and Mr. Bumble was at once instructed that Oliver -Twist and his indentures were to be conveyed before the magistrate for -signature and approval, that very afternoon. - -In pursuance of this determination, little Oliver, to his excessive -astonishment, was released from bondage, and ordered to put himself -into a clean shirt. He had hardly achieved this very unusual gymnastic -performance, when Mr. Bumble brought him with his own hands, a basin of -gruel, and the holiday allowance of two ounces and a quarter of bread; -at sight of which Oliver began to cry very piteously, thinking, not -unnaturally, that the board must have determined to kill him for some -useful purpose, or they never would have begun to fatten him up in this -way. - -"Don't make your eyes red, Oliver, but eat your food, and be thankful," -said Mr. Bumble, in a tone of impressive pomposity. "You're a-going to -be made a 'prentice of, Oliver." - -"A 'prentice, sir!" said the child, trembling. - -"Yes, Oliver," said Mr. Bumble. "The kind and blessed gentlemen which -is so many parents to you, Oliver, when you have none of your own, are -a-going to 'prentice you, and to set you up in life, and make a man of -you, although the expence to the parish is three pound ten!--three pound -ten, Oliver!--seventy shillin's!--one hundred and forty sixpences!--and -all for a naughty orphan which nobody can love." - -As Mr. Bumble paused to take breath after delivering this address, in an -awful voice, the tears rolled down the poor child's face, and he sobbed -bitterly. - -"Come," said Mr. Bumble, somewhat less pompously; for it was gratifying -to his feelings to observe the effect his eloquence had produced. "Come, -Oliver, wipe your eyes with the cuffs of your jacket, and don't cry into -your gruel; that's a very foolish action, Oliver." It certainly was, for -there was quite enough water in it already. - -On their way to the magistrate's, Mr. Bumble instructed Oliver that -all he would have to do, would be to look very happy, and say, when -the gentleman asked him if he wanted to be apprenticed, that he should -like it very much indeed; both of which injunctions Oliver promised to -obey, the more readily as Mr. Bumble threw in a gentle hint, that if he -failed in either particular, there was no telling what would be done to -him. When they arrived at the office, he was shut up in a little room by -himself and admonished by Mr. Bumble to stay there, until he came back -to fetch him. - -There the boy remained with a palpitating heart for half an hour, at the -expiration of which time Mr. Bumble thrust in his head, unadorned with -the cocked-hat, and said aloud, - -"Now, Oliver, my dear, come to the gentleman." As Mr. Bumble said this, -he put on a grim and threatening look, and added in a low voice, "Mind -what I told you, you young rascal." - -Oliver stared innocently in Mr. Bumble's face at this somewhat -contradictory style of address; but that gentleman prevented his -offering any remark thereupon, by leading him at once into an adjoining -room, the door of which was open. It was a large room with a great -window; and behind a desk sat two old gentlemen with powdered heads, -one of whom was reading the newspaper, while the other was perusing, -with the aid of a pair of tortoise-shell spectacles, a small piece of -parchment which lay before him. Mr. Limbkins was standing in front of -the desk, on one side; and Mr. Gamfield, with a partially washed face, -on the other; while two or three bluff-looking men in top-boots were -lounging about. - -The old gentleman with the spectacles gradually dozed off, over the -little bit of parchment; and there was a short pause after Oliver had -been stationed by Mr. Bumble in front of the desk. - -"This is the boy, your worship," said Mr. Bumble. - -The old gentleman who was reading the newspaper raised his head for a -moment, and pulled the other old gentleman by the sleeve, whereupon the -last-mentioned old gentleman woke up. - -"Oh, is this the boy?" said the old gentleman. - -"This is him, sir," replied Mr. Bumble. "Bow to the magistrate, my dear." - -Oliver roused himself, and made his best obeisance. He had been -wondering, with his eyes fixed on the magistrates' powder, whether all -boards were born with that white stuff on their heads, and were boards -from thenceforth, on that account. - -"Well," said the old gentleman, "I suppose he's fond of -chimney-sweeping?" - -"He dotes on it, your worship," replied Bumble, giving Oliver a sly -pinch, to intimate that he had better not say he didn't. - -"And he _will_ be a sweep, will he?" inquired the old gentleman. - -"If we was to bind him to any other trade to-morrow, he'd run away -simultaneously, your worship," replied Bumble. - -"And this man that's to be his master,--you, sir,--you'll treat him -well, and feed him, and do all that sort of thing,--will you?" said the -old gentleman. - -"When I says I will, I means I will," replied Mr. Gamfield doggedly. - -"You're a rough speaker, my friend, but you look an honest, open-hearted -man," said the old gentleman, turning his spectacles in the direction of -the candidate for Oliver's premium, whose villanous countenance was a -regular stamped receipt for cruelty. But the magistrate was half blind, -and half childish, so he couldn't reasonably be expected to discern what -other people did. - -"I hope I am, sir," said Mr. Gamfield with an ugly leer. - -"I have no doubt you are, my friend," replied the old gentleman, fixing -his spectacles more firmly on his nose, and looking about him for the -inkstand. - -It was the critical moment of Oliver's fate. If the inkstand had been -where the old gentleman thought it was, he would have dipped his -pen into it and signed the indentures, and Oliver would have been -straightway hurried off. But, as it chanced to be immediately under his -nose, it followed as a matter of course that he looked all over his desk -for it, without finding it; and happening in the course of his search -to look straight before him, his encountered the pale and terrified -face of Oliver Twist, who, despite all the admonitory looks and pinches -of Bumble, was regarding the very repulsive countenance of his future -master with a mingled expression of horror and fear, too palpable to be -mistaken even by a half-blind magistrate. - -The old gentleman stopped, laid down his pen, and looked from Oliver -to Mr. Limbkins, who attempted to take snuff with a cheerful and -unconcerned aspect. - -"My boy," said the old gentleman, leaning over the desk. Oliver started -at the sound,--he might be excused for doing so, for the words were -kindly said, and strange sounds frighten one. He trembled violently, and -burst into tears. - -"My boy," said the old gentleman, "you look pale and alarmed. What is -the matter?" - -"Stand a little away from him, beadle," said the other magistrate, -laying aside the paper, and leaning forward with an expression of some -interest. "Now, boy, tell us what's the matter: don't be afraid." - -Oliver fell on his knees, and, clasping his hands together, prayed that -they would order him back to the dark room,--that they would starve -him--beat him--kill him if they pleased--rather than send him away, with -that dreadful man. - -"Well!" said Mr. Bumble, raising his hands and eyes with most impressive -solemnity,--"Well! of _all_ the artful and designing orphans that ever I -see, Oliver, you are one of the most bare-facedest." - -"Hold your tongue, beadle," said the second old gentleman, when Mr. -Bumble had given vent to this compound adjective. - -"I beg your worship's pardon," said Mr. Bumble, incredulous of his -having heard aright,--"did your worship speak to me?" - -"Yes--hold your tongue." - -Mr. Bumble was stupified with astonishment. A beadle ordered to hold his -tongue! A moral revolution. - -The old gentleman in the tortoise-shell spectacles looked at his -companion: he nodded significantly. - -"We refuse to sanction these indentures," said the old gentleman, -tossing aside the piece of parchment as he spoke. - -"I hope," stammered Mr. Limbkins,--"I hope the magistrates will not -form the opinion that the authorities have been guilty of any improper -conduct, on the unsupported testimony of a mere child." - -"The magistrates are not called upon to pronounce any opinion on the -matter," said the second old gentleman sharply. "Take the boy back to -the workhouse, and treat him kindly. He seems to want it." - -That same evening the gentleman in the white waistcoat most positively -and decidedly affirmed, not only that Oliver would be hung, but that -he would be drawn and quartered into the bargain. Mr. Bumble shook his -head with gloomy mystery, and said he wished he might come to good; to -which Mr. Gamfield replied, that he wished he might come to him, which, -although he agreed with the beadle in most matters, would seem to be a -wish of a totally opposite description. - -The next morning the public were once more informed that Oliver Twist -was again to let, and that five pounds would be paid to anybody who -would take possession of him. - - - CHAPTER THE FOURTH. - - OLIVER, BEING OFFERED ANOTHER PLACE, MAKES HIS - FIRST ENTRY INTO PUBLIC LIFE. - -In great families, when an advantageous place cannot be obtained, either -in possession, reversion, remainder, or expectancy, for the young man -who is growing up, it is a very general custom to send him to sea. The -board, in imitation of so wise and salutary an example, took counsel -together on the expediency of shipping off Oliver Twist in some small -trading vessel bound to a good unhealthy port, which suggested itself -as the very best thing that could possibly be done with him; the -probability being, that the skipper would either flog him to death, in -a playful mood, some day after dinner, or knock his brains out with -an iron bar,--both pastimes being, as is pretty generally known, very -favourite and common recreations among gentlemen of that class. The -more the case presented itself to the board, in this point of view, the -more manifold the advantages of the step appeared; so they came to the -conclusion that the only way of providing for Oliver effectually, was to -send him to sea without delay. - -Mr. Bumble had been despatched to make various preliminary inquiries, -with the view of finding out some captain or other who wanted a -cabin-boy without any friends; and was returning to the workhouse to -communicate the result of his mission, when he encountered just at the -gate no less a person than Mr. Sowerberry, the parochial undertaker. - -Mr. Sowerberry was a tall, gaunt, large-jointed man, attired in a suit -of threadbare black, with darned cotton stockings of the same colour, -and shoes to answer. His features were not naturally intended to wear -a smiling aspect, but he was in general rather given to professional -jocosity; his step was elastic, and his face betokened inward -pleasantry, as he advanced to Mr. Bumble and shook him cordially by the -hand. - -"I have taken the measure of the two women that died last night, Mr. -Bumble," said the undertaker. - -"You'll make your fortune, Mr. Sowerberry," said the beadle, as he -thrust his thumb and forefinger into the proffered snuff-box of the -undertaker, which was an ingenious little model of a patent coffin. "I -say you'll make your fortune, Mr. Sowerberry," repeated Mr. Bumble, -tapping the undertaker on the shoulder in a friendly manner, with his -cane. - -"Think so?" the undertaker in a tone which half admitted and half -disputed the probability of the event. "The prices allowed by the board -are very small, Mr. Bumble." - -"So are the coffins," replied the beadle, with precisely as near an -approach to a laugh as a great official ought to indulge in. - -Mr. Sowerberry was much tickled at this, as of course he ought to be, -and laughed a long time without cessation, "Well, well, Mr. Bumble," -he said at length, "there's no denying that, since the new system -of feeding has come in, the coffins are something narrower and more -shallow than they used to be; but we must have some profit, Mr. Bumble. -Well-seasoned timber is an expensive article, sir; and all the iron -bundles come by canal from Birmingham." - -"Well, well," said Mr. Bumble, "every trade has its drawbacks, and a -fair profit is of course allowable." - -"Of course, of course," replied the undertaker; "and if I don't get a -profit upon this or that particular article, why, I make it up in the -long run, you see--he! he! he!" - -"Just so," said Mr. Bumble. - -"Though I must say,"--continued the undertaker, resuming the current -of observations which the beadle had interrupted,--"though I must say, -Mr. Bumble, that I have to contend against one very great disadvantage, -which is, that all the stout people go off the quickest--I mean that the -people who have been better off; and have paid rates for many years, are -the first to sink when they come into the house; and let me tell you, -Mr. Bumble, that three or four inches over one's calculation makes a -great hole in one's profits, especially when one has a family to provide -for, sir." - -As Mr. Sowerberry said this, with the becoming indignation of an -ill-used man, and as Mr. Bumble felt that it rather tended to convey a -reflection on the honour of the parish, the latter gentleman thought it -advisable to change the subject; and Oliver Twist being uppermost in his -mind, he made him his theme. - -"By the bye," said Mr. Bumble, "you don't know anybody who wants a -boy, do you--a porochial 'prentis, who is at present a dead-weight,--a -millstone, as I may say--round the porochial throat? Liberal terms, Mr. -Sowerberry--liberal terms;"--and, as Mr. Bumble spoke, he raised his -cane to the bill above him, and gave three distinct raps upon the words -"five pounds," which were printed therein in Roman capitals of gigantic -size. - -"Gadso!" said the undertaker, taking Mr. Bumble by the gilt-edged lappel -of his official coat; "that's just the very thing I wanted to speak to -you about. You know--dear me, what a very elegant button this is, Mr. -Bumble; I never noticed it before." - -"Yes, I think it is rather pretty," said the beadle, glancing proudly -downwards at the large brass buttons which embellished his coat. "The -die is the same as the parochial seal,--the Good Samaritan healing -the sick and bruised man. The board presented it to me on New-year's -morning, Mr. Sowerberry. I put it on, I remember, for the first time, to -attend the inquest on that reduced tradesman who died in a doorway at -midnight." - -"I recollect," said the undertaker. "The jury brought in 'Died -from exposure to the cold, and want of the common necessaries of -life,'--didn't they?" - -Mr. Bumble nodded. - -"And they made it a special verdict, I think," said the undertaker, "by -adding some words to the effect, that if the relieving officer had----" - -"Tush--foolery!" interposed the beadle angrily. "If the board attended -to all the nonsense that ignorant jurymen talk, they'd have enough to -do." - -"Very true," said the undertaker; "they would indeed." - -"Juries," said Mr. Bumble, grasping his cane tightly, as was his wont -when working into a passion,--"juries is ineddicated, vulgar, grovelling -wretches." - -"So they are," said the undertaker. - -"They haven't no more philosophy or political economy about 'em than -that," said the beadle, snapping his fingers contemptuously. - -"No more they have," acquiesced the undertaker. - -"I despise 'em," said the beadle, growing very red in the face. - -"So do I," rejoined the undertaker. - -"And I only wish we'd a jury of the independent sort in the house for a -week or two," said the beadle; "the rules and regulations of the board -would soon bring their spirit down for them." - -"Let 'em alone for that," replied the undertaker. So saying, he smiled -approvingly to calm the rising wrath of the indignant parish officer. - -Mr. Bumble lifted off his cocked-hat, took a handkerchief from the -inside of the crown, wiped from his forehead the perspiration which his -rage had engendered, fixed the cocked-hat on again; and, turning to the -undertaker, said in a calmer voice, - -"Well, what about the boy?" - -"Oh!" replied the undertaker; "why, you know, Mr. Bumble, I pay a good -deal towards the poor's rates." - -"Hem!" said Mr. Bumble. "Well?" - -"Well," replied the undertaker, "I was thinking that if I pay so much -towards 'em, I've a right to get as much out of 'em as I can, Mr. -Bumble; and so--and so--I think I'll take the boy myself." - -Mr. Bumble grasped the undertaker by the arm, and led him into the -building. Mr. Sowerberry was closeted with the board for five minutes, -and then it was arranged that Oliver should go to him that evening "upon -liking,"--a phrase which means, in the case of a parish apprentice, that -if the master find, upon a short trial, that he can get enough work out -of a boy without putting too much food in him, he shall have him for a -term of years, to do what he likes with. - -When little Oliver was taken before "the gentlemen" that evening, -and informed that he was to go that night as general house-lad to a -coffin-maker's, and that if he complained of his situation, or ever came -back to the parish again, he would be sent to sea, there to be drowned, -or knocked on the head, as the case might be, he evinced so little -emotion, that they by common consent pronounced him a hardened young -rascal, and ordered Mr. Bumble to remove him forthwith. - -Now, although it was very natural that the board, of all people in the -world, should feel in a great state of virtuous astonishment and horror -at the smallest tokens of want of feeling on the part of anybody, they -were rather out, in this particular instance. The simple fact was, that -Oliver, instead of possessing too little feeling, possessed rather -too much, and was in a fair way of being reduced to a state of brutal -stupidity and sullenness for life, by the ill usage he had received. He -heard the news of his destination in perfect silence, and, having had -his luggage put into his hand,--which was not very difficult to carry, -inasmuch as it was all comprised within the limits of a brown paper -parcel, about half a foot square by three inches deep,--he pulled his -cap over his eyes, and once more attaching himself to Mr. Bumble's coat -cuff, was led away by that dignitary to a new scene of suffering. - -For some time Mr. Bumble drew Oliver along, without notice or remark, -for the beadle carried his head very erect, as a beadle always should; -and, it being a windy day, little Oliver was completely enshrouded by -the skirts of Mr. Bumble's coat as they blew open, and disclosed to -great advantage his flapped waistcoat and drab plush knee-breeches. -As they drew near to their destination, however, Mr. Bumble thought -it expedient to look down and see that the boy was in good order for -inspection by his new master, which he accordingly did, with a fit and -becoming air of gracious patronage. - -"Oliver!" said Mr. Bumble. - -"Yes, sir," replied Oliver, in a low, tremulous voice. - -"Pull that cap off of your eyes, and hold up your head, sir." - -Although Oliver did as he was desired at once, and passed the back of -his unoccupied hand briskly across his eyes, he left a tear in them -when he looked up at his conductor. As Mr. Bumble gazed sternly upon -him, it rolled down his cheek. It was followed by another, and another. -The child made a strong effort, but it was an unsuccessful one; and, -withdrawing his other hand from Mr. Bumble's, he covered his face with -both, and wept till the tears sprung out from between his thin and bony -fingers. - -"Well!" exclaimed Mr. Bumble, stopping short, and darting at his little -charge a look of intense malignity,--"well, of _all_ the ungratefullest, -and worst-disposed boys as ever I see, Oliver, you are the----" - -"No, no, sir," sobbed Oliver, clinging to the hand which held the -well-known cane; "no, no, sir; I will be good indeed; indeed, indeed, I -will, sir! I am a very little boy, sir; and it is so--so--" - -"So what?" inquired Mr. Bumble in amazement. - -"So lonely, sir--so very lonely," cried the child. "Everybody hates me. -Oh! sir, don't be cross to me. I feel as if I had been cut here, sir, -and it was all bleeding away;" and the child beat his hand upon his -heart, and looked into his companion's face with tears of real agony. - -Mr. Bumble regarded Oliver's piteous and helpless look with some -astonishment for a few seconds, hemmed three or four times in a husky -manner, and, after muttering something about "that troublesome cough," -bid Oliver dry his eyes and be a good boy; and, once more taking his -hand, walked on with him in silence. - -The undertaker had just put up the shutters of his shop, and was making -some entries in his day-book by the light of a most appropriately dismal -candle, when Mr. Bumble entered. - -"Aha!" said the undertaker, looking up from the book, and pausing in the -middle of a word; "is that you, Bumble?" - -"No one else, Mr. Sowerberry," replied the beadle. "Here, I've brought -the boy." Oliver made a bow. - -"Oh! that's the boy, is it?" said the undertaker, raising the candle -above his head to get a full glimpse of Oliver. "Mrs. Sowerberry! will -you come here a moment, my dear?" - -Mrs. Sowerberry emerged from a little room behind the shop, and -presented the form of a short, thin, squeezed-up woman, with a vixenish -countenance. - -"My dear," said Mr. Sowerberry, deferentially, "this is the boy from the -workhouse that I told you of." Oliver bowed again. - -"Dear me!" said the undertaker's wife, "he's very small." - -"Why, he _is_ rather small," replied Mr. Bumble, looking at Oliver as -if it were his fault that he wasn't bigger; "he is small,--there's no -denying it. But he'll grow, Mrs. Sowerberry,--he'll grow." - -"Ah! I dare say he will," replied the lady pettishly, "on our victuals, -and our drink. I see no saving in parish children, not I; for they -always cost more to keep, than they're worth: however, men always think -they know best. There, get down stairs, little bag o' bones." With -this, the undertaker's wife opened a side door, and pushed Oliver down -a steep flight of stairs into a stone cell, damp and dark, forming the -ante-room to the coal-cellar, and denominated "the kitchen," wherein sat -a slatternly girl in shoes down at heel, and blue worsted stockings very -much out of repair. - -"Here, Charlotte," said Mrs. Sowerberry, who had followed Oliver down, -"give this boy some of the cold bits that were put by for Trip: he -hasn't come home since the morning, so he may go without 'em. I dare say -he isn't too dainty to eat 'em,--are you, boy?" - -Oliver, whose eyes had glistened at the mention of meat, and who was -trembling with eagerness to devour it, replied in the negative; and a -plateful of coarse broken victuals was set before him. - -I wish some well-fed philosopher, whose meat and drink turn to gall -within him, whose blood is ice, and whose heart is iron, could have seen -Oliver Twist clutching at the dainty viands that the dog had neglected, -and witnessed the horrible avidity with which he tore the bits asunder -with all the ferocity of famine:--there is only one thing I should -like better; and that would be to see him making the same sort of meal -himself with the same relish. - -"Well," said the undertaker's wife, when Oliver had finished his supper, -which she had regarded in silent horror, and with fearful auguries of -his future appetite, "have you done?" - -There being nothing eatable within his reach, Oliver replied in the -affirmative. - -"Then come with me," said Mrs. Sowerberry, taking up a dim and dirty -lamp, and leading the way up stairs; "your bed's under the counter. You -won't mind sleeping among the coffins, I suppose?--but it doesn't much -matter whether you will or not, for you won't sleep any where else. -Come; don't keep me here, all night." - -Oliver lingered no longer, but meekly followed his new mistress. - - - - - A REMNANT OF THE TIME OF IZAAK WALTON. - VENATOR, AMATOR, EBRIOLUS. - - _Venator._ - Good morrow, good morrow! say whither ye go,-- - To the chase above, or the woods below? - Brake and hollow their quarry hold, - Streams are bright with backs of gold: - 'Twere shame to lose so fair a day,-- - So, whither ye wend, my masters, say. - - _Amator._ - The dappled herd in peace may graze, - The fish fling back the sun's bright rays; - I bend no bow, I cast no line, - The chase of Love alone is mine. - - _Ebriolus._ - Your venison and pike - Ye may get as ye like, - They grace a board right well; - But the sport for my share - Is the chase of old Care, - When the wine-cup tolls his knell. - - _Venator._ - Give ye good-den, my masters twain, - I'll flout ye, when we meet again: - Sad lover, lay thee down and pine; - Go thou, and blink o'er thy noon-day wine; - I'll to the woods. Well may ye fare - With two such deer, as Love and Care. - - - - - THE "ORIGINAL" DRAGON. - A LEGEND OF THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE. - - _Freely translated from an undeciphered MS. of Con-fuse-us,_[49] _and - dedicated to Colonel Bolsover, (of the Horse Marines,) - by C. J. Davids, Esq._ - - I. - A desperate dragon, of singular size,-- - (His name was _Wing-Fang-Scratch-Claw-Fum_,)-- - Flew up one day to the top of the skies, - While all the spectators with terror were dumb. - The vagabond vow'd, as he sported his tail, - He'd have a _sky lark_, and some glorious fun; - For he'd nonplus the natives that day without fail, - By causing a _total eclipse of the sun_![50] - He collected a crowd by his impudent boast, - (Some decently dress'd--some with hardly a rag on,) - Who said that the country was ruin'd and lost, - Unless they could compass the death of the _dragon_. - - II. - The emperor came with the whole of his court,-- - (His majesty's name was _Ding-Dong-Junk_)-- - And he said--to delight in such profligate sport, - The monster was mad, or disgracefully drunk. - He call'd on the army: the troops to a man - Declar'd--though they didn't feel frighten'd the least-- - They never could think it a sensible plan - To go within reach of so ugly a beast. - So he offer'd his daughter, the lovely _Nan-Keen_, - And a painted pavilion, with many a flag on, - To any brave knight who would step in between - The _solar eclipse_ and the dare-devil _dragon_. - - III. - Presently came a reverend bonze,-- - (His name, I'm told, was _Long-Chin-Joss_,)-- - With a phiz very like the complexion of bronze; - And for suitable words he was quite at a loss. - But, he humbly submitted, the orthodox way - To succour the _sun_, and to bother the foe, - Was to make a new church-rate without more delay, - As the clerical funds were deplorably low. - Though he coveted nothing at all for himself, - (A virtue he always delighted to brag on,) - He thought, if the priesthood could pocket some pelf, - It might hasten the doom of this impious _dragon_. - - IV. - The next that spoke was the court buffoon,-- - (The name of this buffer was _Whim-Wham-Fun_,)-- - Who carried a salt-box, and large wooden spoon, - With which, he suggested, the job might be done. - Said the jester, "I'll wager my rattle and bells, - Your pride, my fine fellow, shall soon have a fall: - If you make many more of your damnable yells, - I know a good method to make you sing small!" - And, when he had set all the place in a roar, - As his merry conceits led the whimsical wag on, - He hinted a plan to get rid of the bore, - By putting some _salt_ on the _tail_ of the _dragon_! - - V. - At length appear'd a brisk young knight,-- - (The far-fam'd warrior, _Bam-Boo-Gong_,)-- - Who threaten'd to burke the big blackguard outright, - And have the deed blazon'd in story and song. - With an excellent shot from a very _long bow_ - He damag'd the dragon by cracking his crown; - When he fell to the ground (as my documents show) - With a smash that was heard many miles out of town. - His death was the signal for frolic and spree-- - They carried the corpse in a common stage-waggon; - And the hero was crown'd with the leaves of green tea, - For saving the _sun_ from the jaws of the _dragon_. - - VI. - A poet, whose works were all the rage,-- - (This gentleman's name was _Sing-Song-Strum_,)-- - Told the terrible tale on his popular page: - (Compar'd with _his_ verses, _my_ rhymes are but rum!) - The Royal Society claim'd, as their right, - The spoils of the vanquish'd--his wings, tail, and claws; - And a brilliant bravura, describing the fight, - Was sung on the stage with unbounded applause. - "The valiant _Bam-Boo_" was a favourite toast, - And a topic for future historians to fag on, - Which, when it had reach'd to the Middlesex coast, - Gave rise to the legend of "_George and the Dragon_." - -[49] "Better know to illiterate people as _Confucius_." - --WASHINGTON IRVING. - -[50] In _China_ (whatever European astronomers may assert to the - contrary) an _eclipse_ is caused by a _great dragon - eating up the sun_. - -To avert so shocking an outrage, the natives frighten away the monster -from his intended _hot_ dinner, by giving a morning concert, _al -fresco_; consisting of drums, trumpets, cymbals, gongs, tin-kettles, &c. - - - - - A PASSAGE IN THE LIFE OF BEAUMARCHAIS. - BY GEORGE HOGARTH. - -M. de Beaumarchais, the celebrated French dramatist, was one of the -most remarkable men of his time, though his fame now rests in a great -measure on his two comedies, _Le Barbier de Seville_, and _Le Mariage -de Figaro_; and even these titles are now-a-days much more generally -associated with the names of Rossini and Mozart, than with that of -Beaumarchais. Few comedies, however, have been more popular on the -French stage than these delightful productions. The character of Susanna -was the _chef d'oeuvre_ of the fascinating Mademoiselle Contat; and -has preserved its attractions, almost down to the present time, in the -hands of her evergreen successor, the inimitable Mars. The Count and -Countess Almaviva, Susanna, Figaro, and Cherubino, have now become -the property of Italian singers; and, in this musical age, even the -French public have been content to give up the wit, satire, point, and -playfulness of the original comedies, for those meagre outlines which -have been made the vehicles for the most charming dramatic music in -the world. Not that _Il Barbiere di Siviglia_ and _Le Nozze di Figaro_ -are not lively and amusing, considered as operas; but the _vis comica_ -of Beaumarchais has almost entirely evaporated in the process of -transmutation. - -None of the other dramatic works of Beaumarchais are comparable to -these. Some of them bear marks of immature genius; and his last play, -_La Mère Coupable_, the conclusion of the history of the Almaviva -family, was written after a long interval, and when advanced age, and -a life of cares and troubles, appear to have extinguished the author's -gaiety, and changed the tone of his feelings. The play is written with -power, but it is gloomy, and even tragical; succeeding its lively and -brilliant precursors as a sunset of clouds and darkness closes a bright -and smiling day. It painfully disturbs the agreeable associations -produced by the names of its characters; and, for the sake of these -associations, every one who reads it must wish to forget it. - -But it is not so much to the writings of Beaumarchais, as to himself, -that we wish at present to direct the attention of our readers. His life -was anything but that of a man of letters. He possessed extraordinary -talents for affairs; and, during his whole life, was deeply engaged -in important pursuits both of a private and public nature. Extensive -commercial enterprises, lawsuits of singular complication, and missions -of great moment as a political agent, withdrew him from the walks of -literature, and probably prevented him (as one of his biographers -has remarked) from enriching the French stage with twenty dramatic -masterpieces, instead of two or three. In this respect he resembled our -Sheridan, as well as in the character of his genius; for we know of no -plays that are more akin to each other, in many remarkable features, -than _The School for Scandal_ and _Le Mariage de Figaro_. - -It is a remarkable circumstance in the history of Beaumarchais, that a -considerable portion of his literary fame was derived from a species -of composition from which anything of the kind could hardly have been -expected,--the pleadings, or law-papers, in the various causes in -which he was involved. The proceedings in the French parliaments, or -high courts of justice, were totally different from those with which -we are acquainted in England; though they were similar to those which -were practised in the Scottish court of session, (a tribunal formed -on the French model,) before that court came in for its share in the -general progress of reform. There were no juries; the proceedings were -conducted under the direction of a single judge, whose business it was -to prepare the cause for decision, and then to make a report upon it -to the whole court, by whom the judgment was given. A favourable view -of the case from the reporting judge was, of course, an object of much -importance; and the most urgent solicitations by the litigants and their -friends--nay, even bribes--were often employed to obtain it. A charge -against Beaumarchais,--a groundless one, however,--of having attempted -to bribe the wife of one of these judges, exposed him to a long and -violent persecution. Among his enemies were men of rank and power; the -grossest calumnies against him were circulated in the highest quarters, -and countenanced by the court in which he was a litigant; the bar became -afraid to support him, and he could no longer find an advocate. In these -forlorn circumstances the energy of his character did not abandon him, -and he resolved to become his own advocate. - -The pleadings in the French courts of those days were all written. The -cause was debated in _mémoires_, or memorials, in which the pleas of -the parties were stated without any of our technical formality. Law, -logic, eloquence, pathos, and sarcasm, were all employed, in whatever -way the pleader thought most advantageous. The paper was printed and -distributed, not only among the judges, but among the friends and -connexions of the parties; and when the case excited much interest, the -distribution was often so extensive as almost to amount to publication. -Beaumarchais, deserted by his former advocates, began to compose his own -memorials, to which he found means to obtain the mere signature of some -member of the bar. In this manner he fought a long and desperate battle, -in which, after some severe reverses, (one of which was the burning of -a series of his memorials by the common hangman, pursuant to a sentence -of the court,) he at length achieved a complete and signal victory over -all his enemies, whom he not only defeated on the immediate subjects of -dispute, but overwhelmed with universal ridicule and contempt. - -In the mean time these _mémoires_ produced an extraordinary sensation -throughout France. When a new one appeared, it flew from hand to hand -like lightning. The causes in which Beaumarchais was involved were so -interesting in themselves, and connected with such strange occurrences, -that, had they belonged to the period of the _Causes Célèbres_, they -would have made a remarkable figure in that famous collection. Their -interest was increased a thousand-fold by the memorials of Beaumarchais. -"The genius," says a French writer, "with which they are marked, the -originality of the style, the dramatic form of the narrative, mingled -with fine bursts of eloquence, keep the attention always awake; while -the logical clearness of the reasoning, and the art of accompanying -every statement of facts with striking and conclusive evidence, lay hold -of the mind, and interest and instruct, without fatiguing the reader. -But their most remarkable feature is the noble firmness of mind which -they display; the serenity of a lofty spirit which the most terrible -and unforeseen reverses were unable to subdue or intimidate; the stamp, -in short, of a great character which is impressed upon them." These -writings of Beaumarchais are spoken of in terms of admiration by the -most eminent literati of that day, especially by Voltaire, in many parts -of his correspondence; they attracted the notice of the government, and -procured for their author several political missions, the results of -which had no small influence on the public affairs of the time. - -We have given this sketch of the character of Beaumarchais by way of -introduction to an account of a remarkable incident of his life, taken -from one of those extraordinary productions. Among other calumnies, he -had been charged, at one time with a series of atrocities committed in -Spain ten years before; and, among other things, with having endeavoured -to bully a Spanish gentleman into a marriage with his sister, whom that -gentleman had kept as a mistress; and it was added that he had been -expelled from Spain in disgrace. In one of his _mémoires_ he answers -these accusations, by giving a narrative of his residence in Spain -during the period in question. It is a leaf of "the romance of real -life," and the interest of the story is heightened by the conviction -of its entire truth; for every fact is confirmed by evidence, and the -smallest incorrectness, as the writer knew, would be laid hold of by -his enemies. Goethe, it is not immaterial to add, has made it the -subject of his tragedy of _Clavijo_, the characters of which consist -of Beaumarchais himself, and the other persons introduced into his -narrative; though the great German dramatist has taken some poetical -liberties with the story, especially in its tragical catastrophe. - -The following narrative is a _condensation_ of the original, which -contains minute details and pieces of evidence, of great importance to -M. de Beaumarchais' object at the time,--a conclusive vindication of his -character, but not at all conducive to the interest of the story. - -"For some years I had enjoyed the happiness of living in the bosom -of my family; and our domestic union consoled me for all I suffered -through the malice of my enemies. I had five sisters. Two of them had -been committed by my father, at a very early age, to the care of one of -his correspondents in Spain, so that I had only that faint but pleasant -remembrance of them which is associated with our days of childhood. This -remembrance, however, was kept alive by frequent correspondence. - -"In February 1764, my father received from his eldest daughter a letter -of very painful import. 'My sister,' she wrote, 'has been grossly abused -by a powerful and dangerous man. Twice, when on the point of marrying -her, he has broken his word, and withdrawn without condescending to -assign any reason for his conduct; and my poor sister's wounded feelings -have thrown her into a state of depression from which we have faint -hopes of her recovery. For these six days she has not spoken a word. -Under this unmerited stigma, we are living in the deepest retirement. -I weep night and day, and endeavour to offer the unhappy girl comfort -which I cannot find myself.' - -"My father put his daughter's letter into my hands, 'Try, my son,' he -said, 'what you can do for these poor girls. They are your sisters as -well as the others.' - -"'Alas, my dear father,' I said, 'what can I do for them? What -assistance shall I ask? Who knows but they may have brought this -disgrace upon themselves by some fault of their own?' - -"My father showed me some letters from our ambassador to my elder -sister, in which he spoke of both of them in terms of the highest -esteem. I read these letters. They gave me courage; and my father's -phrase, 'They are your sisters as well as the others,' had sunk into my -heart. 'Console yourself,' I said to him, 'I am going to adopt a course -that may surprise you; but it appears to me the surest and the most -prudent. My eldest sister mentions several respectable persons in Paris -who can give testimony to the good conduct and virtue of her sister. I -will see them; and if their testimony is as honourable as that of our -ambassador, I shall instantly set out for Madrid, and either punish the -traitor who has outraged them, or bring them back with me to share my -humble fortune.' - -"My inquiries were completely satisfactory. I immediately returned to -Versailles, and informed my august patronesses,[51] that business, no -less painful than urgent, demanded my immediate presence at Madrid. -I showed them my sister's letter, and received their permission to -depart, in terms of the kindest encouragement. My preparations were -soon made, as I dreaded that I might not arrive in time to save my poor -sister's life. I obtained the strongest letters of recommendation to -our ambassador at Madrid; and my ancient friend, M. Duvernay, gave me -a credit on himself to the amount of two hundred thousand francs, to -enable me to transact a piece of commercial business, and at the same -time to increase my personal consideration. I was accompanied by one of -my friends, a merchant, who had some business in Spain; but who went -also partly on my account. - -"We travelled day and night, and arrived in Madrid on the 18th of May -1764. I had been expected for some days, and found my sisters in the -midst of their friends. As soon as the feelings, caused by a meeting -between a brother and his sisters, so long separated, and seeing each -other once more under such circumstances, had subsided, I earnestly -conjured them to give me an exact account of all that had happened, in -order that I might be able to serve them effectually. The story was long -and minute. When I had heard it to an end, I embraced my young sister: - -"'Now that know all, my dear girl,' I said, 'keep your mind at ease. I -am delighted to see that you no longer love this man, and my part is all -the easier on that account. All that I want now, is to know where I can -find him.' - -"Our friends began eagerly to advise me to go, first of all, to -Aranjuez, and wait upon the French ambassador, in order to obtain his -protection against a man whose official situation gave him so much -influence with people in power. But I had made up my mind to follow a -different course; and, without giving any intimation of my intention, I -merely begged that my arrival might be kept a secret till my return from -Aranjuez. - -"I immediately changed my travelling dress, and found my way to the -residence of Don Joseph Clavijo, keeper of the archives of the -crown. He was from home, but I went in search of him; and it was in -the drawing-room of a lady whom he had gone to visit that I told him, -that, having just arrived from France, and being intrusted with some -commissions for him, I was anxious to have an interview with him as -soon as possible. He asked me to breakfast the following morning; and I -accepted the invitation for myself and the French merchant who was along -with me. - -"Next morning, I was with him at half-past eight o'clock. I found him in -a splendid house, which, he said, belonged to Don Antonio Portugues, the -highly-respected head of one of the government offices, and so much his -friend, that in his absence he used the house as if it were his own. - -"'I am commissioned, sir,' I began, 'by a society of men of letters, -to establish, in the different towns which I visit, a literary -correspondence with the most distinguished men of the place; and I am -sure that I cannot serve my friends more effectually than by opening a -correspondence between them and the distinguished author of the papers -published under the title of the '_Pensador_'.[52] - -"He seemed delighted with the proposal. That I might the better know -my man, I allowed him to expatiate on the advantages which different -countries might derive from this kind of literary intercourse. His -manner became quite affectionate; he talked like on oracle; and was all -smiles and self-satisfaction. At last he bethought himself of asking -what business of my own had brought me to Spain, politely expressing his -wish to be of service to me. - -"'I accept,' I said, 'your kind offers with much gratitude, and assure -you, sir, that I shall explain my business very openly.' - -"With the view of throwing him into a state of perplexity in which I -intended him to remain till it should be cleared up by the conclusion -of what I had to say, I again introduced my friend to him, telling him -that the gentleman was not unacquainted with the matter, and that his -presence would do no harm. At this exordium, Clavijo turned his eyes on -my friend with an air of curiosity. I began: - -"'A French merchant, who had a numerous family and a narrow fortune, -had several correspondents in Spain. One of the richest of them, -happening to be at Paris nine or ten years ago, proposed to adopt two -of his daughters. He would take them, he said, to Madrid; he was an -old bachelor; they should be to him as children, and be the comfort of -his old age; and after his death they should succeed to his mercantile -establishment. The two eldest daughters were committed to his care. Two -years afterwards he died, leaving the Frenchwomen without any other -advantage than the burden of carrying on an embarrassed commercial -house. Their good conduct, however, and amiable qualities, gained them -many friends, who exerted themselves to increase their credit and -improve their circumstances.' - -"I observed Clavijo become very attentive. - -"'About this time, a young man, a native of the Canaries, got an -introduction to their house.' - -"Clavijo's gaiety of countenance vanished. - -"'Anxious to make himself known, this young gentleman conceived the -idea of giving Madrid a pleasure of a novel description in Spain, by -establishing a periodical paper in the style of the English _Spectator_. -He received encouragement and assistance, and nobody doubted that his -undertaking would be fully successful. It was then that, animated by the -hope of reputation and fortune, he made a proposal of marriage to the -younger of the French ladies. The elder told him, that he should first -endeavour to succeed in the world; and that as soon as some regular -employment, or other means of honourable subsistence, should give him -a right to think of her sister, her consent, if he gained her sister's -affections, should not be wanting.' - -"He became restless and agitated. Without seeming to notice his manner, -I went on. - -"'The younger sister, touched by her admirer's merit, refused several -advantageous proposals; and, preferring to wait till he who had loved -her, for four years, should realise the hopes which he and his friends -entertained, encouraged him to publish the first number of his journal -under the imposing title of the _Pensador_.' - -"Clavijo looked as if he were going to faint. - -"'The work,' I continued with the utmost coldness, 'had a prodigious -success. The king, delighted with so charming a production, gave -the author public marks of favour; and he was promised the first -honourable employment that should be vacant. He then removed, by an open -prosecution of his suit, every other person who had sought my sister's -hand. The marriage was delayed only till the promised post should be -obtained. At six months' end the post made its appearance, but the man -vanished.' - -"Here my listener heaved an involuntary sigh, and, perceiving what he -had done, reddened with confusion. I went on without interruption. - -"'The matter had gone too far to be allowed to drop in this manner. A -suitable house had been taken; the bans had been published. The common -friends of the parties were indignant at such an outrage; the ambassador -of France interfered; and when this man saw that the French ladies had -protectors whose influence might be greater than his own, and might even -destroy his opening prospects, he returned to throw himself at the feet -of his offended mistress. He got her friends to intercede for him; and -as the anger of a forsaken woman has generally love at the bottom, a -reconciliation soon took place. The marriage preparations were resumed; -the bans were re-published; the ceremony was to take place in three -days. The reconciliation had made as much noise as the rupture. The -lover set out for St. Ildefonso to ask the minister's consent to his -marriage; entreating his friends to preserve for him till his return the -now precarious affection of his mistress, and to arrange everything for -the immediate performance of the ceremony.' - -"In the horrible state into which he was thrown by this recital, but -yet uncertain whether I might not be telling a story in which I had -no personal interest, Clavijo from time to time fixed his eyes on my -friend, whose _sangfroid_ was no less puzzling than mine. I now looked -him steadily in the face, and went on in a sterner tone. - -"'Two days afterwards he returned indeed from court; but, instead of -leading his victim to the altar, he sent word to the poor girl that he -had once more changed his mind, and would not marry her. Her indignant -friends hastened to his house. The villain no longer kept any measures -with them, but defied them to hurt him, telling them that if the -Frenchwomen were disposed to give him any trouble, they had better take -care of themselves. On hearing this intelligence, the young woman fell -into convulsions so violent, that her life was long despaired of. In -the midst of their desolation, the elder wrote to France an account of -the public affront that they had received. They had a brother, who, -deeply moved by the story, flew to Madrid, determined to investigate -the affair to the bottom. _I_ am that brother. _It is I_ who have left -everything--my country, my family, my duties--to avenge in Spain the -cause of an innocent and unhappy sister. _It is I_ who come, armed with -justice and resolution, to unmask and punish a villain; and _it is you_ -who are that villain.' - -"It is easier to imagine than describe the appearance of this man by -the time I had concluded my speech. His mouth opened from time to time, -and inarticulate sounds died away on his tongue. His countenance, at -first so radiant with complacency and satisfaction, gradually darkened; -his eyes became dim, his features lengthened, his complexion pale and -haggard. - -"He tried to stammer out some phrases by way of justification. 'Do not -interrupt me, sir,' I said; 'you have nothing to say to me, and much to -hear from me. In the first place, have the goodness to declare before -this gentleman, who has accompanied me from France on account of this -very business, whether, owing to any want of faith, levity, weakness, -ill-temper, or any other fault, my sister has deserved the double -outrage she has received from you.' - -"'No, sir; I acknowledge Donna Maria, your sister, to be a young lady -full of charms, accomplishments, and virtues.' - -"'Has she ever, since you have known her, given you any ground of -complaint?' - -"'No, never.' - -"'Well, then, monster that you are! why have you had the barbarity to -bring a poor girl to death's door, merely because her heart gave you the -preference over half a dozen other persons more respectable and better -than you?' - -"'Ah, sir, I have been advised, instigated: if you knew----' - -"I interrupted him: 'That is quite sufficient,' I said. Then, turning -to my friend, 'You have heard my sister's justification; pray go, and -make it known. What I have further to say to this gentleman requires no -witness.' - -"My friend left the room. Clavijo rose, but I made him resume his seat. - -"'It does not suit my views, any more than yours, that you should marry -my sister; and you are probably aware that I am not come here to play -the brother's part in a comedy, who desires to bring about his sister's -happiness, as it is called. You have thought fit to insult a respectable -young woman, because you thought her friendless in a strange land; your -conduct has been base and dishonourable. You will please, therefore, -to begin by acknowledging, under your hand, at perfect freedom, with -all your doors open and all your domestics in the room, (who will not -understand us, as we shall speak French,) that you have causelessly -deceived, betrayed, insulted my sister. With this declaration in my hand -I shall hasten to Aranjuez, where our ambassador is; I shall show him -the paper, and then have it printed; to-morrow it shall be abundantly -circulated through the court and the city. I have some credit here--I -have time and money; all shall be employed to deprive you of your place, -and to pursue you without respite, and in every possible way, till my -sister herself shall entreat me to forbear.' - -"'I shall make no such declaration,' said Clavijo, almost inarticulate -from agitation. - -"'I dare say not, for I don't think, were I in your place, that I should -do so myself. But you must consider the other alternative. From this -moment I remain at your elbow. I will not leave you a moment. Wherever -you go, I will go, till you shall have no other way of getting rid of so -troublesome a neighbour but by going with me behind the Palace of Buen -Retiro. If I am the survivor, sir, without even seeing the ambassador, -or speaking to a single soul here, I shall take my dying sister in my -arms, put her in my carriage, and return with her to France. If the luck -is yours, all is ended with me. You will then be at liberty to enjoy -your triumph, and laugh at your dupes as much as you please. Will you -have the goodness to order breakfast.' - -"I rose, and rang the bell; a servant brought in breakfast. I took my -cup of chocolate, while Clavijo, in deep thought, walked about the room. -At length he seemed all at once to form a resolution. - -"'M. de Beaumarchais,' he said, 'hear me. Nothing on earth can justify -my conduct towards your sister; ambition has been my ruin; but if I -had imagined that Donna Maria had a brother like you, far from looking -upon her as a stranger without friends or connexions, I should have -anticipated the greatest advantages from our union. You have inspired -me with the greatest esteem; and I throw myself on your generosity, -beseeching you to assist me in redressing, as far as I am able, the -injuries I have done your sister. Restore her to me, sir; and I shall -esteem myself too happy in receiving, from your hands, my wife and -forgiveness of my offences.' - -"'It is too late,' I replied; 'my sister no longer loves you. Write a -declaration,--that is all I require of you; and be satisfied that, as an -open enemy, I will avenge my sister's wrongs till her own resentment is -appeased.' - -"He made many difficulties; objecting to the style in which I demanded -his declaration; to its being all in his hand-writing; and to my -insisting that the domestics should be in the room while he was writing -it. But the alternative was pressing, and he had probably some lurking -hope of regaining the affections of the woman who had loved him so -long. His pride, therefore, gave way; and he submitted to write the -declaration, which I dictated to him, walking about the room. It -contained an ample testimony to the blameless character of my sister, -and an acknowledgment of his causeless treachery towards her. - -"When he had written and signed the paper, I put it in my pocket, and -took my leave, repeating what I had said, as to the use I meant to make -of it. He besought me, at least, to tell my sister of the marks of -sincere repentance he had exhibited; and I promised to do so. - -"My friend's return before me, to my sister's, had produced great alarm -in the little circle that were waiting for us. I found the females -in tears, and the men very uneasy. But when they heard my account of -my interview, and saw the declaration, the general anxiety was turned -into joy and congratulation. Every one was of a different opinion: some -insisted on ruining Clavijo; others were inclined to forgive him; and -others, again, were for leaving everything to my prudence. My sister -entreated that she might never hear of him more. I resolved to go to -Aranjuez and lay the whole affair before the Marquis D'Ossun, our -ambassador. - -"Before setting out, I wrote to Clavijo, telling him that my sister -would not hear a word in his favour, and that I was therefore determined -to adhere to my intention of doing all I could to avenge her injuries. -He begged to see me; and I went without hesitation to his house. His -language was full of the most bitter self-reproach; and, after many -earnest entreaties, he obtained my permission to visit my elder sister, -accompanied by a mutual friend, and my promise, in case he should fail -in obtaining forgiveness, not to publish his dishonour till after my -return from Aranjuez. - -"The Marquis D'Ossun received me very kindly. I told him my story, -concluding with an account of my meeting with Clavijo, which he could -hardly credit, till I showed him the declaration. He asked me what -were my views--did I desire to make Clavijo marry my sister?--'No, my -lord, my object is to disgrace him publicly.' The Marquis dissuaded me -from proceeding to extremities. Clavijo, he said, was a rising man, -and evidently in the way of great advancement; ambition had alienated -him from my sister; but ambition, repentance, or affection, seemed -to be bringing him back; all things considered, Clavijo seemed an -advantageous match, and the wisest thing I could do was to get the -marriage celebrated immediately. He hinted further, that, by following -his advice, I should do him a pleasure, for reasons which he could not -explain. - -"I returned to Madrid, much troubled by the result of this conference. -On arriving at my sister's, I found that Clavijo had been there, -accompanied by some mutual friends, in order to beseech my sisters to -forgive him. Maria, on his appearance, had fled to her own room, and -would not appear; and I was told he had conceived hopes from this little -ebullition of resentment. I concluded, for my part, that he was well -acquainted with woman, whose soft and tender nature, however deeply she -may have been injured, is always prone to pardon the repentant lover -whom she sees kneeling at her feet. - -"After my return from Aranjuez, Clavijo found means to see me every -day. I was delighted with his talents and attainments, and, above all, -with the manly confidence he appeared to have in my mediation. I was -sincerely desirous to favour his suit; but the profound respect which my -poor sister had for my judgment rendered me very circumspect in regard -to her. It was her happiness, and not her fortune, that I wished to -secure; her heart, and not her hand, that I wished to dispose of. - -"On the 25th of May, Clavijo suddenly left the house of M. Portugues, -and retired to the house of an officer of his acquaintance, in the -quarters of the invalids. This hasty move appeared somewhat singular, -though it did not, at the moment, give me any uneasiness. I went to -see him: he explained his precipitate retreat by saying that, as M. -Portugues was very much opposed to his marriage, he thought he could -not give me a better proof of his sincerity than by leaving the house of -so powerful an enemy of my sister. This appeared probable, and I felt -obliged to him for so delicate a proceeding. - -"Next day I received a letter from him, breathing the utmost frankness, -honour, and good feeling. He renewed his offer of marriage, if my sister -would only forgive his past conduct. He protested the most devoted and -unalterable love for her; and called upon me to perform my promise of -interceding for him. If it were possible for him, he said, to leave -Madrid without an express order from the head of his department, he -would instantly set out for Aranjuez to obtain that minister's consent -to the marriage: he therefore begged that I would undertake that matter -for him; and said that my prompt compliance would be the most convincing -proof of my sincere good wishes. - -"I read this letter to my sisters; Maria burst into tears. I embraced -her tenderly. 'Well, poor child, you love him after all; and are -mightily ashamed of it, no doubt! I see it all; but never mind--you -are a good excellent girl, notwithstanding; and since your resentment -is dying away, let it be extinguished altogether in the tears of -forgiveness. They are sweet and soothing after tears of grief and anger. -He is a sad fellow, this Clavijo, to be sure, like most men; but, such -as he is, I join our worthy ambassador in advising you to forgive him. -For his own sake, perhaps,' I added, laughing, 'I might have been as -well pleased had he fought me; for yours, I am much better pleased that -he has not.' - -"I ran on in this way till my sister began to smile in the midst of her -tears. I took this as a silent consent, and hastened away in search of -her lover. I told him he was a hundred times happier than he deserved; -and he agreed that I was in the right. I brought him to my sister's. The -poor girl was overwhelmed, on all hands, by entreating friends, till -at last, with a blush and a sigh of mingled pleasure and shame, she -whispered a consent that we might dispose of her as we pleased. Clavijo -was in raptures. In his joy, he ran to my writing-desk, and wrote a -paper containing a brief but formal mutual engagement, which he signed, -and then kneeling, presented it to my sister for her signature. The -gentlemen present, joined their entreaties to his, and thus a written -consent was extorted from my poor sister, who, no longer knowing where -to hide her head, threw herself weeping into my arms, whispering in my -ear, that really I was a hard-hearted man, and had no pity for her. - -"We spent a very happy evening, as may well be imagined. At eleven -o'clock I set out for Aranjuez, for in that warm climate the night is -the pleasantest time for travelling. I communicated all that had passed -to the ambassador, who was much pleased, and praised my conduct more -than it deserved. I then waited on M. de Grimaldi, the minister at the -head of Clavijo's department. He received me kindly, gave his consent to -the marriage, and wished my sister every happiness; but observed that -Don Joseph Clavijo might have spared me the journey, because a letter to -the minister was the usual form, and would have been quite sufficient. - -"On my return to Madrid, I found a letter from Clavijo, written in great -apparent agitation, in which he told me, that copies of a pretended -declaration, said to be by him, had got into circulation, and that it -was in such terms that he could not show his face while impressions -subsisted so derogatory to his character and honour. He therefore begged -me to show the paper he had really signed, and give copies of it. -Subjoined to his letter was a copy of this pretended declaration, which -was conceived in the most false, exaggerated, and abominable language, -and was all in his own hand-writing. He further said, that, in the mean -time, and till the public should be disabused, _it would be better that -we should not see each other for a few days_; for, if we did, it might -be supposed that the pretended paper was the real one, and that the -other, now appearing for the first time, was concocted afterwards. - -"I was a little out of humour at the conclusion drawn by Clavijo from -this base fabrication. I reproached him gently for taking such an -unreasonable view of the matter; and, as I found him unwell, I promised -that as soon as he was able to go out, we should go everywhere together, -and that I should make it appear that I looked upon him as a brother and -an honourable man. - -"We made all the arrangements for the marriage. In case he might not be -fully supplied with money, I offered him my purse; and I presented him -with some jewels and French laces, to enable him to make my sister a -wedding gift. He accepted the jewels and laces, because, as he said, it -would be difficult to find anything so handsome at Madrid; but I could -not prevail on him to receive the money I offered him. - -"Next day, a Spanish valet robbed me of a large sum of money and a -number of valuable articles. I immediately waited on the governor of -Madrid to make my complaint, and was somewhat surprised at the very cold -reception I met with. I wrote to the French ambassador on the subject, -and thought no more of it. - -"I continued my attentions to my sick friend, which were received with -every appearance of affectionate gratitude; but, on the 5th of June, -when I came as usual to see him, I found, to my utter astonishment, that -he had, once more, suddenly decamped. - -"I got inquiries made after him at all the lodging-houses in Madrid, and -at last discovered his new abode. I expressed my surprise in stronger -language than on the previous occasion. He told me that he had learned -that his friend with whom he was staying, had been blamed for sharing -with another a lodging which was given by the king for his own use -only; and that he had been so much hurt at this, that he thought it -necessary to leave his friend's apartments instantly, without regarding -the embarrassment it might occasion, the state of his health, the -untimely hour, or any other consideration. I could not but approve of -his delicacy; but kindly scolded him for not having come to reside at -my sister's, whither I offered to take him at once. He thanked me most -affectionately, but found some reason for excusing himself. - -"Next day, under trifling pretexts, he refused my repeated offers of -an apartment at my sister's. My friends began to shake their heads, -and my sister looked anxious and unhappy. It was similar evasions -that had twice already preceded his total desertion. I felt angry at -these forebodings, which I insisted were groundless; but I found that -suspicion was creeping into my own mind. To get rid of it, on the day -fixed for signing the contract, (the seventh of June,) I sent for the -apostolic notary, whose function it is to superintend this ceremony. -But what was my surprise when this official told me that he was going -to make Señor Clavijo sign a declaration of a very different nature; as -he had, the day before, received a writ of opposition to my sister's -marriage, on the part of a young woman who affirmed that she had a -promise from Clavijo, given in 1755, nine years before! - -"I inquired who the woman was, and was told by the notary that she was a -waiting-woman. In a transport of rage, I ran to Clavijo, loaded him with -threats and reproaches. He besought me to moderate my anger and suspend -my opinion. He had long ago, he said, made some such promise to Madame -Portugues's waiting-woman, who was a pretty girl; but he had never since -heard of it, and believed that the girl was now set on by some enemy of -Donna Maria. The affair, he assured me, was a trifle, and could be got -rid of by the aid of a few pistoles. He repeated his vows of eternal -constancy to Maria, and begged me to return at eight o'clock in the -evening, when he would go with me to an eminent advocate, who would -easily put him on the way of getting rid of this trifling obstacle. - -"I left him, full of indecision and bitterness of heart. I could make -nothing of his conduct, or imagine any reasonable object he could have -in deceiving me. At eight o'clock I returned to his lodgings with two of -my friends; but we had hardly got out of the carriage, when the landlady -came to the door, and told me that Señor Clavijo had removed from her -house an hour before, and was gone she knew not whither. - -"Thunderstruck at this intelligence, and unable to believe it, I went -up to the room he had occupied. Every thing belonging to him had -been carried off. Perplexed and dismayed, I returned home, and had -no sooner arrived than a courier from Aranjuez brought me a letter, -which he had been ordered to deliver with the utmost speed. It was -from the French ambassador. He informed me that the governor of Madrid -had just been with him, to tell him that Señor Clavijo had retired to -a place of safety, in order to protect himself from the violence he -apprehended from me, as I had, a few days before, compelled him, in his -own house, and with a pistol at his breast, to sign an engagement to -marry my sister. The Marquis, at the same time, expressed his belief -of my innocence; but feared that the affair might be turned to my -disadvantage, and requested that I would do nothing whatever until I had -seen him. - -"I was utterly confounded. This man, who for weeks had been treating me -like a brother,--who had been writing me letter upon letter, full of -affection,--who had earnestly besought me to give him my sister, and had -visited her again and again as her betrothed husband,--this monster had -been all the while secretly plotting my destruction! - -"Suddenly an officer of the Walloon guards came into the room. 'M. de -Beaumarchais,' he said, 'you have not a moment to lose. Save yourself, -or to-morrow morning you will be arrested in your bed. The order is -given, and I am come to apprise you of it. Your adversary is a monster. -He has contrived to set almost everybody against you, and has led you -into snare after snare, till he has found means to make himself your -public accuser. Fly instantly, I beseech you. Once immured in a dungeon, -you will have neither protection nor defence.' - -"'I fly!--I make my escape!--I will die sooner. Say not a word more, my -friends. Let me have a travelling carriage to-morrow morning at four -o'clock, and meanwhile leave me to prepare for my journey to Aranjuez.' - -"I shut myself up in my room. My mind was utterly exhausted. I threw -myself into a chair, where I remained for two hours in a state of total -vacuity of thought. At length I roused myself. I reflected on all the -circumstances of the case, and on the abundant proofs of my integrity. I -sat down to my desk, and, with the rapidity of a man in a high fever, I -wrote an exact journal of my actions since my arrival at Madrid: names, -dates, conversations,--everything sprang, as it were, into my memory, -and fixed itself under my pen. I was still writing at five in the -morning, when I was told that my carriage was ready. Some friends wanted -to accompany me. 'I wish to be alone,' I said. 'Twelve hours of solitude -are not more than necessary to calm the agitation of my frame.' I set -out for Aranjuez. - -"When I arrived, the ambassador was at the palace, and I could not see -him till eleven o'clock at night. He was glad, he said, I was come; for -he had been very uneasy about me. During the last fortnight my adversary -had gained all the avenues of the palace; and, had it not been for him, -I should have been already arrested, and probably sent to a dungeon for -life, on the African coast. He had done what he could with M. Grimaldi, -the minister, to whom he had earnestly represented his conviction of my -probity and honour; but all was without effect. 'You must really go, M. -de Beaumarchais,' he continued. 'You have not a moment to lose. I can do -nothing in opposition to the general impression against you, or against -the positive order that has been issued for your imprisonment; and I -should be sincerely grieved should any calamity happen to you in this -country. You must leave Spain instantly.' - -"I did not shed tears while he was speaking, but large drops of water -fell at intervals from my eyes, gathered in them by the contraction -of my whole frame. I was stupified and speechless. The ambassador was -affected by my situation, and spoke to me in the kindest and most -soothing manner; but still persisted in saying that I must yield to -necessity, and escape from consequences which could not otherwise be -averted. I implored him to think of the ruin to my own character in -France if I fled from Spain under such circumstances;--to consider the -situation of my unhappy, innocent sister. He said he would write to -France, where his account of my conduct would he credited; and that, as -to my sister, he would not neglect her. I could bear this conversation -no longer; but, abruptly quitting his presence, I rushed out of the -house, and wandered all night in the dark alleys of the park of -Aranjuez, in a state of inexpressible anguish. - -"In the morning, my courage rose; and, determined to obtain justice or -perish, I repaired to the levee of M. Grimaldi, the minister. While I -waited in his ante-chamber, I heard several voices pronounce the name -of M. Whal. That distinguished and venerable statesman, who had retired -from the ministry that, in the close of life, he might have a brief -interval of repose, was then residing in M. Grimaldi's house. I heard -this, and was suddenly inspired with the idea of having recourse to him -for protection. I requested permission to see him, as a stranger who had -something of importance to communicate. I was admitted; and the sight -of his mild and noble countenance gave me courage. I told him that my -only claim to his favour was that I was a native of the country in which -he himself was born, persecuted almost to death by cruel and powerful -enemies; but this title, I trusted, was sufficient to obtain for me the -protection of a just and virtuous man. - -"'You are a Frenchman,' he said, 'and that is always a strong claim with -me. But you tremble--you are pale and breathless; sit down--compose -yourself, and tell me the cause of such violent agitation.' He ordered -that no one should be admitted; and I, in an unspeakable state of -hope and fear, requested permission to read my journal of occurrences -since my arrival in Madrid. He complied, and I began to read. As I -went on, he from time to time begged me to be calm, and to read more -slowly that he might follow me the better; assuring me that he took the -greatest interest in my narrative. As I proceeded, I laid before him -in succession the letters and other documents which were referred to. -But when I came to the criminal charge against me,--to the order for my -imprisonment, which had been only suspended for a little by M. Grimaldi -at the request of our ambassador,--to the urgent advices which I had -received to make my escape, but which I avowed my determination not to -follow,--he uttered an exclamation, rose, and took me kindly by the hand: - -"'Unquestionably the king will do you justice, M. de Beaumarchais. The -ambassador, in spite of his regard for you, is obliged to act with the -caution which befits his office; but I am under no such restraint. It -shall never be said that a respectable Frenchman, after leaving his -home, his friends, his business,--after having travelled a thousand -miles to succour an innocent and unfortunate sister, has been driven -from this country, carrying with him the impression that no redress or -justice is to be obtained in Spain. It was I who placed this Clavijo -in the king's service, and I feel myself responsible for his infamous -conduct. Good God! how unhappy it is for statesmen that they cannot -become sufficiently aware of the real character of the persons they -employ, and thus get themselves surrounded by specious knaves, of whose -shameful actions they often bear the blame. A minister may be forgiven -for being deceived in the choice of a worthless subordinate; but when -once he comes to a knowledge of his character, there is no excuse for -retaining him a moment. For my part, I shall immediately set a good -example to my successors.' - -"So saying, he rang, ordered his carriage, and took me with him to the -palace. He sent for M. Grimaldi; and, while waiting for the arrival -of that minister, went into the king's closet, and told his majesty -the story, accusing himself of indiscretion in recommending such a man -to his majesty's favour. M. Grimaldi came; and I was called into the -royal presence. 'Read your memorial,' said M. Whal,--'every feeling and -honourable heart must be as much moved by it as I was.' I obeyed. The -king listened with attention and interest; examined the proofs of my -statements; and the result was an order that Clavijo should be deprived -of his employment, and dismissed for ever from his majesty's service." - -From subsequent parts of the narrative, it appears that Clavijo -exerted all his powers of cunning and intrigue in order to get himself -re-instated in his situation; not omitting further attempts to impose -upon M. de Beaumarchais, accompanied with abject entreaties and -hypocritical professions. All, however, was in vain; and this man, who -seems to have been an extraordinary compound of intellectual ability and -moral depravity, seems to have sunk into contempt and insignificance. -The young lady recovered the shock she had received; and was afterwards -happily married, and settled at Madrid. - -[51] The Princesses of France, in whose household M. de Beaumarchais - held an office. - -[52] The Reflector. - - - - - MARS AND VENUS. - - One day, upon that Trojan plain, - Where men in hecatombs were slain, - Th' immortal gods (no common sight) - Thought fit to mingle in the fight, - And found convincing proof that those - Who will in quarrels interpose - Are often doom'd to suffer harm-- - Venus was wounded in the arm; - Whilst Mars himself, the god of war, - Receiv'd an ignominious scar, - And, fairly beat by Diomed, - Fled back to heav'n and kept his bed. - That bed (the proof may still be seen) - Had long been shared with beauty's queen; - For, with th' adventure of the cage, - Vulcan had vented all his rage, (a) - And, like Italian husbands, he - Now wore his horns resignedly. - Ye modest critics! spare my song: - If gods and goddesses did wrong, - And revell'd in illicit love, - As poets, sculptors, painters, prove, - Is mine the fault? and, if I tell - Some tales of scandal that befell - In heathen times, why need my lays - On ladies' cheeks more blushes raise, - When read (if such my envied lot) - In secret boudoir, bower, or grot, - Than scenes which, in the blaze of light, - They throng to witness ev'ry night? - Ere you condemn my humble page, - Glance for a moment at the stage, - Where twirling gods to view expose - Their pliant limbs, in tighten'd hose, - And goddesses of doubtful fame - Are by lord chamberlains allow'd, - With practis'd postures, to inflame - The passions of a gazing crowd: - And if great camels, such as these, - Are swallow'd with apparent ease, - Oh! strain not at a gnat like me, - Nor deem me lost to decency, - When I now venture to declare - That Mars and Venus--guilty pair-- - On the same couch extended lay, - And cursed the fortunes of the day. - The little Loves, who round them flew, - Could only sob to show their feeling, - Since they, of course, much better knew - The art of wounding than of healing, - And Cupid's self essay'd in vain - To ease his lovely mother's pain: - The chaplet that his locks confin'd - He tore indeed her wound to bind; - But from her sympathetic fever - He had no nostrum to relieve her, - And, thinking that she might assuage - That fever, as she did her rage, - By talking loud,--her usual fashion - Whenever she was in a passion,-- - He stood, with looks resign'd and grave, - Prepar'd to hear his mother rave. - Who thus began: "Ah! Cupid, why - Was I so silly as to try - My fortune in the battle-field, (b) - Or seek a pond'rous spear to wield, - Which only Pallas (hated name!) - Of all her sex can wield aright? - What need had I of martial fame, - Sought 'midst the dangers of the fight, - When beauty's prize, a trophy far - More precious than the spoils of war, - Was mine already, won from those - Whom rivalry has made my foes, - And who on Trojan plains would sate - E'en with my blood that ranc'rous hate - Which Ida's neighb'ring heights inflame, - And not this wound itself can tame? - Ah! why did I not bear in mind - That Beauty, like th' inconstant wind, - Is always privileg'd to raise - The rage of others to a blaze, - Then, lull'd to rest, look calmly on, - And see the work of havoc done? - 'Twas well to urge your father, Mars, - To mingle in those hated wars; - 'Twas well--" But piteous cries of pain, - From him she named, here broke the chain - Of her discourse, and seem'd to say, - "What want of feeling you display!" - So, turning to her wounded lover, - She kindly urged him to discover - By whom and where the wound was given, - That sent him writhing back to heaven. - The god, thus question'd, hung his head, - A burning blush of shame o'erspread - With sudden flush his pallid cheek, - As thus he answer'd: "Dost thou seek - To hear a tale of dire disgrace, - Which all those honours must efface, - That, hitherto, have made my name - Pre-eminent in warlike fame? - Yet--since 'twas thou who bad'st me go - To fight with mortals there below-- - 'Tis fitting, too, that thou shouldst learn - What laurels 'twas my fate to earn. - At first, in my resistless car, - I seem'd indeed the god of war; - The Trojans rallied at my side; - Changed in its hue, the Xanthus' tide - Its waters to the ocean bore, - Empurpled deep in Grecian gore; - And o'er the corpse-impeded field - The cry was still 'They yield!--they yield!' - But soon, the flying ranks to stay, - Thy hated rivals joined the fray; - They nerved, with some accursed charm, - Each Greek's, but most Tydides' arm, - And, Venus, thou first felt the smart - Of his Minerva-guided dart. - I saw thee wounded, saw thee fly,-- - I saw the chief triumphantly - Tow'rds me, his ardent coursers turn, - As though from gods alone to earn - The highest honours of the fight; - I know not why, but, at the sight-- - Eternal shame upon my head!-- - A panic seized me, and I fled-- - I fled, like chaff before the wind, - And, ah! my wounds are all--behind!" - When thus at length the truth was told, - (The shameful truth of his disgrace,) - Again, within his mantle's fold, - The wounded coward hid his face; (c) - Whilst Venus, springing from his side, - With looks of scornful anger, cried, - "And didst thou fly from mortal foe, - Nor stay to strike one vengeful blow - For her who fondly has believ'd, - By all thy val'rous boasts deceiv'd, - That in the god of war she press'd - The first of heroes to her breast? - Cupid, my swans and car prepare-- - To Cyprus we will hasten, where - Some youth, as yet unknown to fame, - May haply raise another flame; - For Mars may take his leave of Venus, - No coward shall enjoy my love; - And nothing more shall pass between us,-- - I swear it by my fav'rite dove." - She spake; and through the realms of air, - Before the humbled god could dare - Upraise his head to urge her stay, - Already she had ta'en her way; - And in her Cyprian bow'r that night, - (If ancient scandal tell aright,) - Forgetful of her recent wound, - In place of Mars another found, - And to a mortal's close embraces - Surrender'd her celestial graces. - 'Tis said that Venus, wont to range - Both heav'n and earth in search of change, - Was not unwilling to discover - Some pretext to desert her lover; - Nor do I combat the assertion, - But from the _cause_ of her desertion, - Whilst you, fair readers, justly rail - Against _her morals_, I will dare - To draw _this moral_ for my tale,-- - "None but the brave deserve the fair!" - - NOTES. - - (a) Ovid thus speaks of the result of Vulcan's - exposure of his wife's infidelity: - - "Hoc tibi profectum, Vulcane, quod ante tegebant, - Liberius faciunt ut pudor omnis abest; - Sæpe tamen demens stultè fecisse fateris, - Teque ferunt iræ poenituisse tuæ." - - (b) Leonidas, in his beautiful epigram to Venus armed, says, - - [Greek: Areos entea tauta tinos charin, ô Kythireia, - Endidysai, keneon touto pherousa baros, - Auton Arê' gymnê gar aphoplisas, ei de lileiptai - Kai theos, anthrôpois opla matên epageis.] - - (c) The ancients were seldom guilty of making the actions of their - gods inconsistent with their general character and attributes; - but there seems to have been much of the Captain Bobadil in - the mighty god of war, and the instance of cowardice here alluded - to is not the only one recorded of him by the pts. In the wars - with the Titans he showed a decided "white feather," and suffered - himself to be made prisoner. - - - - - AN EVENING MEDITATION. - - I love the sound of Nature's happy voice, - The music of a summer evening's sky, - When all things fair and beautiful rejoice, - As though their glory ne'er would fade and die. - Sweet is the breeze as 'mid the flowers it sings, - Sweet is the melody of falling streams, - Sweet is the sky-lark's song as borne on wings - Of waving light--a bird of heaven she seems. - Oh! for the hours, when wrapt in joy I've sat, - And felt that harmony--"_all round my hat!_" - SIGMA. - - - - - THE DEVIL AND JOHNNY DIXON. - BY THE AUTHOR OF "STORIES OF WATERLOO." - - _Arnold._ Your form is man's, - and yet you may be the devil. - - _Stranger._ Unless you keep company with - him (and you seem scarce used to such high company) - you can't tell how he approaches. _The Deformed - Transformed._ - -I remember having been exceedingly amused by a book of German -_diablerie_, in which the movements of his Satanic Majesty were -faithfully and fashionably chronicled. He had chosen, it would appear, -for good and cogent reasons, to revisit our earth _incognito_; and as -potentates steal occasionally a glance at the world to see how things -move in their ordinary courses, he too indulged his princely curiosity, -and, _selon la règle_, during his travels assumed a borrowed title. - -I had business to transact in a very remote district of the kingdom -of Connaught, and, as some delay was unavoidable, I threw a few books -carelessly into my portmanteau. Among them the wild conception of -Hoffmann, entitled "The Devil's Elixir," was included; and in the -perusal of that strange tale, I endeavoured to amuse the tedium of as -wet a day as often comes in Connemara. Bad as the morning had been, the -evening was infinitely worse: the wind roared through the mountains; the -rain came down in torrents; and every unhappy wayfarer pushed hastily -for the nearest inn. - -I had been an occupant of the best (and only) parlour of Tim Corrigan -during the preceding week; and so unfrequent were the calls at his -caravansera, that, like Robinson Crus, I could stroll out upon the -moor, and proclaim that I was absolute over heath and "hostelrie." But, -on this night, two travellers were driven to the "Cock and Punchbowl." -They were bound for a fair that was to be holden on the morrow some -twenty miles off; and, although anxious to lodge themselves in some -more contiguous hostel, the weather became so desperate, that by mutual -consent they abandoned their intention, and resolved to ensconce -themselves for the night in a double-bedded room, which, fortunately for -them, happened to be unoccupied in the "Cock and Punchbowl." - -Had their resolution to remain been doubtful, one glance at the kitchen -fire would have confirmed it. There, a well-conditioned goose was -twisting, on a string appended to the chimney-breast; while divers -culinary utensils simmered on the blazing turf, giving sure indications -that other adjuncts were to accompany the bird, and the dinner would be -a substantial one. I, while taking "mine ease in mine inn," had seen the -travellers arrive; and, the door being ajar, heard the "to ride or not -to ride" debated. That question settled, other cares arose. - -"Tim," said the younger guest to the landlord, as he nodded -significantly at the goose, "I'm hungry as a hawk." - -The host shrugged his shoulders, and, pointing to the "great chamber," -where I was seated, replied in an undertone, "There's a customer before -ye, Master Johnny." - -"A customer!--only one, Tim?" - -"Sorrow more," replied the host. - -"Why, the curse of Cromwell on ye for a cormorant!" said the traveller. -"Three priests, after confessing half a parish, would scarcely demolish -that wabbler. I'll invite myself to dinner; and if I be not in at the -dissection, it won't be Johnny Dixon's fault." - -"Arrah! the devil a fear of that," returned the landlord. "Your modesty -nivir stopped your promotion, _Shawn avourneen_![53]" and he of the Cock -and Punchbowl laughed heartily as the traveller entered the parlour. - -He was a stout, middle-sized, foxy-headed fellow of some six or -eight-and-twenty. His face was slightly marked with small-pox, and -plain, but not unpleasing. The expression was good-humoured and -intelligent; while, in the sparkle of his light blue eye, there was a -pretty equal proportion of mirth and mischief. He advanced to me with -perfect nonchalance; nodded as if he had known me for a twelvemonth; -and, as if conferring a compliment, notified with great brevity that it -was his intention to honour me with his company. No proposition could -have pleased me better, and it was fortunate that I had no wish to -remain alone; for, I verily believe, the traveller had already made up -his mind, _coute qui coute_, to aid and assist in demolishing the bird -that saved the Capitol. - -Presently the hostess announced that all preparations were complete. The -traveller, who had been talking of divers affairs, rural and political, -suddenly changed the conversation. "There was," he said, "an unlucky -sinner outside, who like himself had been storm-stayed that evening. He -was a priest's nephew, a harmless poor devil, whom the old fellow had -worked like a nigger, until one sweet evening he smothered himself in -poteen-punch, leaving Peter Feaghan a kettleful of gold. If he, Peter, -were only let in, he would pray for me during life; and, as to eating, -would be contented with the drumsticks." - -I laughed, and assented; and "Master Johnny" speedily produced a -soft-looking, bullet-headed farmer; who, after scraping his leg across -the floor, sate himself down at the corner of the table. - -Dinner came. I, since I breathed the keen air of Connemara, had felt a -quickened appetite; but "Master Johnny" double-distanced me easily as -a trencher-man, and he, in turn, could not hold a candle to the nephew -of the defunct priest. Peter Feaghan was a silent and a steady workman, -and I firmly believe the drumsticks were regularly skeletonized before -the priest's heir was disposed to cry "Hold, enough!" At last the cloth -was removed; and a quart-bottle, a basin of sugar, with a jug of boiling -water of enormous capacity, were set down. - -"What an infernal night it is!" ejaculated the younger traveller, as a -gust of wind drove the hail against the window. "Were you not in luck," -he continued, "that chance drove two Christian men, like Peter and me, -among the mountains? Honest Tim is speechless by this hour, or he has -shortened his allowance greatly since I was here last. No flirting in -the house, for Mrs. Corrigan is a Carmelite, and _Brideen dhu_[54] has -bundled off with a _peeler_.[55] In short, you must have got drunk in -self-defence, and, for lack of company, as I have often done, drank one -hand against the other." - -"Or," said I, "diluted the poteen with a draught of 'The Devil's -Elixir.'" - -"The Devil's Elixir!" repeated the foxy-headed traveller; "and pray what -may that be?" - -In reply, I handed him a volume of the Prussian Counsellor; he looked -at the title-page, and read the motto, "_In that yeare the Deville was -als seene walking publiclie on the streetes of Berline_." Laughing -loudly, he turned to the priest's heir. - -"Holy Mary! had your poor uncle Paul been in town, he would have had a -shy at ould Beelzebub, or made him quit the flagway." - -"And who was Uncle Paul?" I inquired of the stranger. - -"What!" he exclaimed, in manifest astonishment, "not know that excellent -and gifted churchman,--one before whom the devil shook like a whipped -schoolboy?" - -"And was Mr. Feaghan's influence over him, surnamed 'the Morning Star,' -so extraordinary?" - -"Extraordinary you may well call it," resumed Foxy-Head. "The very -mention of Paul's name would produce an ague-fit. Many a set-to they -had--a clear stage and no favour--and in all and every, the devil was -regularly floored. There is the old house of Knockbraddigan,--for -months, man, woman, or child could not close an eye. Priest, monk, -and friar, all tried their hands in vain. Holy-water was expended -by the gallon--masses said thrice a week--a saint's finger borrowed -for the occasion, and brought all the way from Cork,--and even the -stable-lantern had a candle in it, blessed by the bishop. For all these -'Clooty' did not care a button, when Father Paul toddled in, and saved -the house and owner." - -"Indeed?" - -"Ay! and I'll tell you the particulars. It was the year after the -banks broke--times were bad--tenants racked--and Tom Braddigan, like -many a better man, poor fellow! was cleaned out by the sheriff. Never -was a _shuck_[56] sinner harder up for a few hundreds; and, to make a -long story short, _Hoofey_ came in the way, and Tom 'sould himself' -regularly. I never heard the sum, but it is said that it was a large -figure; and that, to give the devil his due, he never cobbled for a -moment, but paid a sporting price, and came down like a man. Well, -the tenure-day came round; Clooty was true to time, and claimed his -customer: but Tom was awake; Paul Feaghan was at his elbow, and, as it -turned out, Paul proved himself nothing but a good one. - -"'Arrah! what do ye want here, honest man?' says the priest to the -devil, opening the conversation civilly. - -"'No offence, I suppose,' says the other, 'for a body to look after his -own.' - -"'None in the world,' replied Father Paul, answering him quite politely; -and all the while, poor Tom shaking like a Quaker. - -"'Mr. Braddigan,' says the devil, 'we have a long drive before us, and -the carriage is waiting. Don't mind your _Cotamore_,[57] Tom; and the -eternal ruffian put his tongue in his cheek. 'Though the day's cold, -'pon my conscience, you shall have presently an air of the fire.' - -"'Asy,' says the priest, 'what call have you to a Catholic?' - -"'A Catholic!' replied the devil, with a twist of his lip, mimicking -Father Paul; 'maybe your reverence would tell us when he was last at -confession?' - -"At this the priest lost temper. 'What the blazes,' says he, 'have you -to do with that? Was there any body present at the bargain _betune_[58] -ye?' - -"'Hell to the one,' replied the devil. - -"'Then,' says Father Paul, 'sorrow leg you would have to stand on if the -whole thing came before the barrister.' - -"The devil gave a knowing look, and, dipping his hand into the left -breeches-pocket, took out a piece of paper, and, as an attorney shows -the corner of a promissory-note to an unwilling witness, he held it out -to Tom, and asked him was it his hand-writing: 'Tummas a Brawdeen,'[59] -says he, in Irish, 'is that yer fist?' - -"'There's no denying it,' says Tom, with a shudder. - -"'Then draw on yer boots, and let us be jogging.' - -"'Asy,' says Father Feaghan. 'Did ye get the consideration, Tom?' - -"The devil seemed uncommonly affronted. 'Paul Feaghan,' says he, 'I -didn't think you would suppose that I would take his I.O.U. and not -post the coal! By my oath,' he continued, 'and let him contradict me if -he can, a Tuam note he would not touch with the tongs; and the devil -a flimsy would go down with him, good or bad, but a regular Bank of -Ireland!' - -"'Oh, be Jakers!' says the priest, 'you're done, Tom! Show me the note.' - -"'Bedershin!' says the devil, clapping his right fore-finger on his nose. - -"'Honour bright!' replied Father Paul. - -"'Will ye return it?' inquired Old Hoofey. - -"'Will a duck swim?' says the priest. 'Be this book,' says he, laying -his hand upon the tea-caddy, 'ye shall have it in two twos.' - -"'There it is, then,' replied the other, 'and make your best of it. -Come, Tom, there's no turnpikes to pay where you're going to; so on with -your wrap-rascal,' pointing to the cotamore. - -"But, sorrow wink was on Father Feaghan all the while. He examined the -note, and not a letter was wanting. It was regular, as if the devil had -been bound to an attorney--drawn on a three-shilling stamp,--and, as he -turned it round and round, it crumpled like singed parchment. - -"'You're dished,' ejaculated his reverence, looking over at Tom. - -"'Murder! murder!' says he, as Hoofey held out his hand for the I.O.U. - -"'Arrah!' says Father Paul, 'do ye keep your papers in a tinderbox?' - -"'They're over dry, I allow,' replied the devil; 'but in my place it's -hard to find a cool corner.' - -"'We'll damp this one a little,' says the priest, slipping his hand fair -and asy into a mug of holy-water, and splashing half a pint of it on -_Tummas a Brawdeen's_ note. 'Put that in yer pocket to balance yer pipe.' - -"In a moment the devil changed colour. 'Bad luck attend ye night and -day, for a circumventing villain!' says he. - -"'Off with ye, you convicted ruffin!' roared Father Paul, making a -flourishing [cross]; and before Tom Braddigan had time to bless himself, -Clooty went up the chimney in a flash of fire, leaving the room -untenantable for a fortnight, from the sulphur; and _Tummas a Brawdeen_ -sung, for the remainder of his life, 'Wasn't that elegantly done?'" - -"Nothing could be better," said I, as Red-head closed his story. "What -a sensation the affair must have occasioned. 'Like angels' visits,' I -presume, the old gentleman's are 'few and far between?'" - -"By no means," returned the stranger, "there are few families of any -fashion in this country, who have not, at some period or other, been -favoured with a call; and I myself was once honoured by his company at -supper." - -I stared at the man; but he bore my scrutiny without flinching. - -"Had you a party to meet his Satanic Majesty?" I inquired, with a smile. - -"Not a soul," replied he. "We supped _tête-à-tête_; and a pleasanter -fellow never stretched his legs beneath a man's mahogany." - -"You certainly have excited my curiosity not a little," said I. - -"If I have," returned the fox-headed stranger, "I shall most willingly -give you a full account of our interview. - -"It was the first Friday after the winter fair of Boyle. I was returning -home in bad spirits; for, though I sold my bullocks well, I had been -regularly cleaned out at loo, and hit uncommonly hard in a handicap. For -three nights I scarcely won a pool, and that was bad enough; but to lose -the best weight-carrier that was ever lapped in leather, for a paltry -ten-pound note, and a daisy-cutter with a fired leg and feathered eye, -would make a saint swear, and a Quaker kick his mother. - -"Night had closed in, as I passed the cross-roads of Kilmactigue, -about two miles from home; and I pulled up into a walk, to bring my -bad bargain cool to the stable. Just then I heard a horse behind me, -coming on in a slapping trot; and, before you could say Jack Robinson, a -strange horseman was beside me. - -"'Morra,[60] Mistre Dixon,' says he. - -"'Morra to ye, sir,' says I, turning sharp about to see if I could -know him. He looked in the dim light a 'top-sawyer,' and, as far as I -could judge, the best-mounted man I had met for a month of Sundays. He -appeared to be dressed in black; his horse was the same colour as his -coat, and I began to tax my memory, hard, to recollect the place where -he and I had met before. - -"'You have the advantage of me, sir,' says I. - -"'Faith, and that's odd enough,' says he, 'for you and I rode head and -girth together at the stag-hunt at Rathgranaher.' - -"'Death and nouns!' says I, 'is this Mr. Magan?' - -"'I believe so,' says he, 'for want of a better.' - -"'Ah! then,' said I, 'I'm glad I met you. Is that the black mare that -carried you so brilliantly?' - -"'The same,' he replied. - -"'No wonder I didn't know ye: you wore at Rathgranaher a light-green -coatee, and now you're black as a bishop.' - -"'I buried an aunt of mine lately,' says he. - -"'Maybe you could do as much for a friend,' replied I; 'I have a couple -at your service; and, as I pay them a hundred a year, I wish them often -at the devil.' - -"'I'll make no objection on my part,' replied Mr. Magan. 'But how far is -it to Templebeg? It will be late before I reach it, I fear.' - -"'It's the worst road in Connaught,' said I: 'my den is scarcely a mile -off; and, if you are not in a hurry, turn in for the night, and you -shall have a warm stall, a grilled bone, and a hearty welcome.' - -"'Never say it again,' says Mr. Magan; and on we rode, cheek by jowl, -talking of fairs, horses, and the coming election. Lord! nothing came -amiss to him: he was up to every thing, from _écarté_ to robbing the -mail-coach; and in politics so knowing, that one while I fancied him a -Whig, and at the next I would have given my book oath he was a black -Orangeman. - -"Before we reached the avenue, I tried if he would 'stand a knock.'[61] - -"'Would you part with the mare?' says I. - -"'If I was bid a sporting price, I would part with my grandmother, if I -had one,' was the reply. - -"'What boot will you take, and turn tails?' said I. - -"'Neighbour,' replied Mr. Magan, 'it must be a long figure that gets -Black Bess. What's that you're riding?' - -"'A thorough-bred four-year old, by Langar, out of a Tom Pipes mare.' - -"'Bedershin!' says Mr. Magan; 'Tom died before you were born.' - -"This was a hard hit. Devil a one of me knew how the horse was bred; -but, as he happened to be a chestnut, I thought I would give Langar for -a sire. Pretending not to hear the remark, I continued, - -"'He's uncommon fast up to twelve stone; will take five feet, 'coped and -dashed,' without a balk; and live the longest day with any fox-hounds on -the province. At three years old, Peter Brannick refused fifty for him.' - -"'And didn't ask a rap for a dark eye and a ring-bone,' observed Mr. -Magan. - -"'Oh!' says I, to myself, 'Magan, there's no coming over ye!' So I -thought that I had better leave horse-flesh alone, and try if I could -draw him at a setch of loo, or a hand of five and ten. - -"With that we had ridden into the yard, and given our prads to the men, -with a hundred charges from the stranger, that his mare should have a -bran-mash and warm clothing. Well, I ushered him into the parlour, and -there was a roaring fire, and the cloth laid for supper; for, luckily -enough, Judy Mac Keal had expected me home. Mr. Magan took off his -cotamore, laid his hat and whip aside, and then threw his eyes over the -apartment. - -"'_Mona mon diaoul!_'[62] says he, 'if there's a snugger hunting-box -between Birr and Bantry.' - -"'Oh!' said I, 'the cabin's well enough for a loose lad like me. -Everything here is rough and ready; and, as it's a bachelor's shop, you -must make allowances.' - -"'Arrah! nabocklish![63] I'm a single man myself, and it's wonderful how -well I get my health, and manage with a housekeeper. By-the-bye,' and he -looked knowing as a jailor, 'is Judy Mac Keal with you still?' - -"'And what do you know about Judy, neighbour?' says I. - -"'Don't be offended,' replied he. 'The boys were joking after supper -at Dinny Balfe's; and Maurice Ffrench named her for face and figure, -against any mentioned, for a pony.' - -"'Ffrench is a fool!' I replied. 'But as you know Judy already, we'll -ring, and see if there's any chance of supper.' - -"She answered the bell; told us the ducks were at the fire, and that in -half an hour all would be ready. When she went away, Magan swore she -was the best-looking trout he had laid eyes on for a twelvemonth; and, -spying out a pack of cards upon the chimney-piece, proposed that we -should kill time with a game of hookey or lansquenet. - -"It was the very thing I wanted; but I took the offer indifferently. - -"'Egad! I'm afraid of you,' says I, as I laid the pack upon the -table-cloth. He cut the cards. - -"'The deal is yours. What an infernal ass I am to touch paper,' says -he; and kissing the knave of clubs. 'By this book, I'm such an unlucky -devil, that I verily believe, had my father bound me to a hatter, men -would be born without heads. Come, down with the dust!' and he pulled -from his breast-pocket a parcel of notes as thick as an almanack. They -were chiefly fives and tens; and when I remarked them all the black -bank,[64] I set him down a Northman. - -"We played at first tolerably even; but, by the time supper was served, -I found myself a winner of twenty pounds. This was a good beginning; and -I determined to continue my good luck, and, if I could, do Mr. Magan -brown. - -"Down we sate; my friend had an excellent appetite, and finished a duck -to his own share. We drank a bottle of sherry in double-quick, got the -cards again, and called for tumblers and hot water. - -"Judy brought in the materials, and Mr. Magan began to quiz her. - -"'Arrah! Miss Mac Keal,' says he, 'will ye come and keep house for me, -and I'll double your wages?' - -"'And where do ye live?' replied she. - -"'Down in the North,' returned Magan; 'and I have as nate a place, ay, -and as warm a house, as ever you laid a foot in!' - -"'Have done with your joking,' says Judy, 'and go home to your own -dacent wife.' - -"'I have her yet to look for,' replied he. - -"'Devil have the liars,' says Judy. - -"'Ah then, amen!' said Magan. - -"'I wouldn't believe ye,' continued she, 'if you kissed the vestment on -it.' - -"'_Liggum lathé_,'[65] says he. - -"'Why, what good Irish you have for a Northman!' replied Judy. - -"'My mother was a Munster woman,' says Mr. Magan. - -"'Is she alive?' inquired she. - -"'Dead as Cleopatra,' he said, with a laugh; and Judy afterwards -remarked, 'she knew he was a rascal, or he would have added, 'God rest -her soul!' - -"When the housekeeper disappeared, the stranger filled a bumper. 'Egad!' -thought I, 'I'll try him now, whether he be radical or true-blue; and, -lifting up the tumbler, I proposed, 'The glorious, pious, and immortal -memory--' - -"'Of the great and good King William,' says he, taking the word out of -my mouth. - -"'Who freed us from Pope and popery, knavery, slavery--' - -"'Brass money, and wooden shs,' returned the Northman. - -"'May he who would not, on bare and bended knee, drink this toast, be -rammed, crammed--' - -"'And damned!' roared Magan, as if the sentiment came from his very -heart. 'Here's the Pope in the pillory, and the Devil pelting priests at -him!' cried the Northman; and, with a laugh, off went the bumpers, and -we commenced the cards anew. - -"Well, sir, that night I had the luck of thousands. The black bank-notes -came over the table-cloth by the dozen; and, as the Northman lost his -money, his temper went along with it. He cursed the cards, and their -maker; swore he would book himself[66] against bones and paper for a -twelvemonth; made tumbler after tumbler; and, as he drank them boiling -from the kettle, I wondered how he could swallow poteen-punch hot enough -to scald a pig. - -"'Come,' says he, in a rage, 'I see how the thing will end; and the -sooner I am cleaned out, the better. Instead of a beggarly flimsey, fork -out a five-pound note.' - -"'With all my heart,' replied I. - -"'Curse of Cromwell attend upon all shmakers!' ejaculated Mr. Magan, -with a grin. - -"'Arrah! what's vexing ye now?' says I, pulling the third five-pounder -across the cloth. - -"'Every thing!' returned he, 'I have the worst of luck, a tight boot, -and a bad corn.' - -"'I'll get ye slippers in a shake.' - -"'Mind your cards,' says he, rather cross; 'there's nobody here but -ourselves, and I'll pull off my boot quietly under the table!' - -"He did so: we continued play; and, though he lost ahead, he recovered -his temper, and seemed to bear it like a gentleman. It was quite clear -that the boot had made him cranky. No wonder: an angry corn and tight -shoe would try the patience of a bride. - -"Well, the last of his bundle of bank-notes was in due course -transferred to me, and I fancied I had him 'polished off;' but, dipping -his hand into his big-coat pocket, he produced a green silk purse, -half a yard long, and stuffed, apparently, with sovereigns. I lighted -a cigar, and offered him another, but he declined it; and, after -groping his _cotamore_ for half a minute, produced a _dudheen_,[67] -which he lighted at the candle. I have smoked tobacco here these ten -years,--Persian or pigstail were all the same to me;--but the first -whiff of Magan's pipe I thought would have smothered me on the spot. - -"'Holy Bridget!' says I, gasping for breath. 'Arrah! what stuff is that -you're blowing?' - -"'It's rather strong,' says he, 'but beautiful when you're used to it. -Cut the cards; and, as they say in Connaught, 'if money stands, luck may -turn.' - -"Just then Judy come in to ask Mr. Magan if he would have a second pair -of blankets on his bed. - -"'Will you come with me?' says he, putting his arm round her jokingly. - -"'God take ye, if possible!' cried Judy: 'pheaks! ye'r not over well -honest man, for your hand's in a fever!' - -"'It's the liker my heart, Judy,' and he gave her a coaxing smile. - -"'Sorrow one of me liked his making so free. 'Go on with your game,' -says I, 'and don't be putting your _comether_[68] over my housekeeper.' - -"At the moment a horse-tramp was heard in the yard, and Judy ran to the -window. - -"'Who's that?' says I. 'Devil welcome him, whver he is;' for I thought -he would interrupt us. - -"'It's a short man on a grey pony,' says Judy, 'with a big blue cloak -about him.' - -"'Phew!' and I whistled. 'It's Father Paul Feaghan.' - -"'Father Paul!' ejaculated Mr. Magan, turning pale as a shirt-frill, and -dropping the _dudheen_ on the floor. - -"'Oh, death and nouns! the carpet will be ruined!' roared Judy, plumping -down upon her knees, and snatching at the pipe; but, before she reached -it, she gave a wild scream, as if she saw a ghost, and began blessing -herself busily. But, scarcely had she made the sign of the [cross], when -a thunderclap shook the lodge; a blaze lightened through the -supper-room, and Mr. Magan, taking with him the black bank-notes, and -the hand of cards he was playing with, vanished up the chimney. No doubt -he would have taken the roof away into the bargain, had not Father Paul -been fortunately so near us." - -"And," said I, "did no other evil consequences attend this unhallowed -visit?" - -"Evil consequences!" returned Johnny Dixon, as he repeated my words: -"my stable-boy was frightened into fits; Judy Mac Keal kept her bed for -a fortnight,--and, _mona mon diaoul!_[69] thirty shillings did not pay -the glazier--for Magan,--the Lord's curse light upon him!--smashed the -windows into smithereens. But it grows late," he continued, addressing -his companion; "and you and I, Peter, must be up ere cockcrow. Good -night, sir!" and he turned to me. "Should you ever meet Mr. Magan--while -you remain in his society, never be persuaded, as they say in Mayo, to -'prove agreeable;' or, 'fight, flirt, play cards, or hold the candle.'" - -[NOTE.-The story was told me at a supper-table by a Connaught gentleman, -with the most profound gravity imaginable. He, the hero, believed -it religiously himself; and w be to the sceptic who gainsayed its -authenticity. - -Poor Johnny lies under a ton weight of Connemara marble. _Requiescat!_ -A better fellow never took six feet in a stroke, carried off a third -bottle, or gave a job to the coroner. _Requiescat! Amen!_] - -[53] _Anglicè_, John, my jewel. - -[54] _Anglicè_, Black Biddy. - -[55] A policeman. - -[56] An Irish phrase, synonymous with _distressed_. - -[57] Great-coat. - -[58] Between. - -[59] _Anglicè_, Tom Braddigan. - -[60] Good-morrow. - -[61] A handicap. - -[62] An Irish imprecation. - -[63] Be quiet. - -[64] One of the Belfast banks is thus named. - -[65] _Anglicè_, Have it your own way. - -[66] Take his oath. - -[67] _Anglicè_, A short pipe. - -[68] A phrase expressive of using the power of persuasion. - -[69] My soul to the devil. - - - - - A MERRY CHRISTMAS. - BY THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY. - - Dover, December 20th, 1836. - DEAR YOUR LORDSHIP,--I never writ to a lord before, - and don't do it now spontaneous; but Mrs. Miggins - desires me to ask you to join our Christmas party - next week. Now I think that will be what you call a - bore, because 'tisn't only us ourselves, but I can't - give up old friends and relations, and so there'll be - more Migginses than you ever saw before; and, always - excepting daughter Sophy, I suspect you've seen more - already than you ever wish to see again. However, - daughter Sophy did seem to attract your notice like, - last autumn here, when you was staying with the duke. - I saw clear enough you didn't want the duke nor the - duchess to know about it, and so I were glad when you - took yourself away; but Sophy hankers after you, and - my wife says,--and she's right enough there, though it - dsn't generally follow that a thing's right because - she says it,--that there's no reason why daughter - Sophy shouldn't be a lord's wife and a lady herself, - like other fine girls no ways her betters; and, though - I did make my money in the soap and candle line, the - money, now it's made, an't the worse; and so, if you - really wants to marry Sophy, say it out and out, and - I'll give my consent. It is but fair and right to tell - your Lordship that there's another young man desperate - about her,--not, when I say another young man, that - I mean to call your lordship a young man, for I know - that wouldn't be respectful. However, if I had my - own way in all things,--which I haven't, and few men - have,--Captain Mills of the artillery would be the man - for Sophy. He's a mighty proper man to look at, and - I've asked him down to spend Christmas here too; so, if - your lordship don't think it worth while to come, why - only say the word, and, to my thinking, Captain Mills - will have a good chance. - - People do report things that I don't want - to believe about your lordship's ways of going on; - but if you do marry Sophy, hang it! make her happy. - Don't take her away from them as loves her, and then - be neglectful and unkind; for she don't know yet what - unkindness is, and I know 'twould break her heart, - and then I should break mine, and my poor wife would - follow,--so that would break us all. But a lord must - be a gentlemen, and a gentleman can't behave like a - blackguard to a woman. So some down here on Saturday - the 24th, and we'll have a merry Christmas and a happy - New Year. In all which my wife and Sophy do join. So - no more at present From your dear lordship's humble - servant at command, PETER MIGGINS. - -Peter Miggins's letter to Lord John Lavender has probably sufficiently -introduced him to the reader. The right honourable personage to whom -that letter was addressed was the youngest son of a duke, and in all -respects as great a contrast to all the blood of the Migginses as can -possibly be imagined. - -Lord John had been, for many years, one of the best-looking men about -town; so many years, indeed, had he been a beauty, that it was quite -wonderful to detect no change in his figure, face, or manner. He still -looked as he always had looked, and probably always intended to look. -There is this one great advantage in beginning to _make up_ early -in life,--nobody detects any difference. The toilet requires a more -protracted attention, and a steadier hand; but, once completed, to the -eye of the observer the colours and the outline are the same. No woman -ever thought more about her appearance than did Lord John Lavender; yet -there was a manliness in his manner and conversation which rescued him -from the charge of effeminacy. - -He was devoted to the fair sex; so much so, that the world could -not help giving him credit for being so sedulously attentive to the -beautification of his person solely that he might render himself -agreeable in their eyes. - -He certainly succeeded most admirably; and, at the same time that he -was in all societies courted and caressed by the fairest and the most -distinguished, there was one little well-known theatrical connexion, -_of_ which we will say as little as possible, and _to_ which old Mr. -Miggins had alluded in his letter. - -Lord John Lavender's income was small, his expectations minute, his -expenses great, and his debts amounted to his overplus expenditure -for the number of years he had been about town. Of the sum total of -his incumbrances he was ignorant. Bills came in at stated periods, -and were carelessly thrown aside; for what was the use of looking at -their amount, knowing beforehand that he could not pay them? But he was -aware this could not go on for ever; he knew that, according to custom, -tradesmen would trust him, as they constantly trust others, almost to -any amount, for a certain period, without having from the first the -slightest reason to suppose that the individual so trusted would ever be -in a condition to pay them; and then all of a sudden they would pounce -upon him, demand payment of all arrears, and trust no more. - -Now, it was quite impossible for Lord John to think of retrenchment. -Among the absolute necessaries of life he reckoned at least two pair of -primrose kid gloves a-day, at three shillings a-pair. Two guineas a-week -for gloves,--the price of a moderate bachelor's lodging! Life would be -intolerable without such things; so, in order that he might continue in -the land of the living, his fastidious lordship had deigned to smile -upon Miss Sophy Miggins, and had permitted the idea of marriage with a -plebeian to enter his aristocratic mind. - -No wonder that Sophy should be dazzled by smiles from such a quarter. -She was pleased and flattered, and imagined that she liked his lordship -exceedingly, though she never felt at ease in his presence. He was -so unlike everybody with whom she had been accustomed to associate, -that she had sense enough to suppose she must be equally unlike his -former companions, and she was always afraid of exciting his wonder and -ridicule by some awkward breach of the usages of good society. But then -to walk about with a lord, was a thing not to be resisted; and though -she would have been much happier with the Captain Mills of whom her -father made honourable mention in his letter to Lord John, still she -never could bring herself to reject the proffered arm of his lordship. - -And had she made up her mind to accept the _hand_ of Lord John Lavender, -should that also in due course of time be proffered? Not exactly; but -Mrs. Miggins had decided for her. That his intentions were honourable, -she could not doubt. Honourable! nay, was he not a _right_ honourable -lover? So, in full expectation of an offer for her daughter, the -old lady bought a "Peerage," placed it in a conspicuous part of her -drawing-room, and looked very coldly on Captain Mills. - -The captain was ordered to Woolwich; and Lord John having left Dover, -Sophy could not, at parting, help evincing to poor Mills a little of -the partiality which she felt. Such was the position of affairs when -Mr. Miggins, who had no notion of men (nor lords neither) being shilly -shally, as he called it, was determined to bring matters to a crisis. -He therefore, after much serious cogitation, wrote the letter which has -been confidentially exhibited to the reader; and also another, requiring -infinitely less forethought, which he dispatched to Captain Mills. - -"What day of the month is it?" said Lord John to his valet, after -perusing the epistle of his Dover correspondent. - -"The twenty-first, my lord." - -"The twenty-first!" exclaimed his lordship finishing his -coffee.--"Wednesday, I declare!--and Sunday is Christmas-day! If I go at -all, I must go on Saturday at latest." - -"My lord?" - -"I must go to Dover, Friday or Saturday." - -"Oh! on your way to the Continent? I think it would be advisable, my -lord." - -"The Continent! no:--why advisable?" - -"Why, my lord; _may_ I speak?" inquired Faddle, as he removed breakfast. - -"Certainly: what have you to say?" - -"Why, the tradespeople, my lord:--just at Christmas-time the bills do -fall in like a shower of paper-snow in a stage-play." - -"Oh! and you think I must get out of the way, and let the storm blow -over, eh?" - -"I do, indeed, my lord; for I'm sorry to say it's very threatening." - -"Oh, well! we'll go as far as Dover; there's no occasion to cross that -odious channel." - -"If I may make bold to ask, why will your lordship be safer at Dover -than in London?" - -"Don't you remember that pretty girl, Faddle? the girl with the rich -father,--Miss Miggins?" - -"Oh! _marriage!_" said Faddle, with a very deep sigh. - -"Yes, Faddle, marriage." - -"And here's a billet from May-fair!" - -"Ah! let me see;" and Lord John opened an elegant little note, penned on -a rose-leaf,--at least, in colour and fragrance it resembled one. - -"She acts to-night, and desires me to dine with her on Christmas-day. -Leave me, Faddle. Give me pen, ink, and paper; send me the _coiffeur_ -directly. I must speak to Tightfit's man at one; appoint Heeltap at two, -and Gimcrack and Shine a quarter of an hour later." - -"To speak about their bills, my lord?" - -"Oh dear, no; to elongate their bills. But _they_ are too distinguished -in their respective lines to breathe a hint about the _trifles_. As to -the _canaille_ of tradesmen, mention my intended marriage." - -"Oh! it's settled?" - -"Why, to be sure; you don't suppose I've anything to do _but to go_!" - -The valet bowed, and left the noble lord to his meditations. At three he -was in his cab,--at five in May-fair,--at eight in the green-room. - -Rapidly passed Thursday and Friday; and, among his many preparations -for departure on Saturday, Lord John forgot to write to his future -father-in-law, to intimate that it was his intention to depart. No -matter; they would only be the more delighted at his unexpected arrival. -Faddle packed up all his things; and, as his cambric handkerchiefs and -kid gloves entirely filled one portmanteau, some notion may be formed -of the quantity of luggage which it was absolutely necessary for him to -take. - -All this, however, was despatched by the mail on Friday night, directed -to "Lord John Lavender, Worthington's Ship Hotel." On Saturday morning, -his lordship, accompanied by his faithful Faddle, was to follow in a -post-chariot and four. But Saturday morning came, and with it came -another rose-leaf, on which were lines so delicately penned, that---- - -Suffice it to say that Lord John Lavender postponed his departure, dined -in May-fair on Christmas-day, and, having resolved to travel all night, -ordered horses to be at the door at ten. He at length tore himself away, -wrapped himself up in several cloaks, threw himself into a corner of -the carriage, and fell fast asleep. Poor Faddle in the rumble was most -uncomfortably situated. It was no common snow-storm that commenced on -Christmas-night 1836, nor was it a commonly keen wind that blew upon -him. He shivered and shook, muttering foul curses on May-fair; and -very shortly became as white as a sugar ornament on the exterior of a -twelfth-cake, and very nearly as inanimate. With much ado they reached -Canterbury; their stopping suddenly, roused Lord John Lavender from his -repose. Somebody tapped at the window, and most reluctantly he opened it. - -"If you please, my lord, we can't go any further," stammered the -miserable and long-suffering Faddle. - -"If _I_ please! nonsense: horses out directly!" - -"They say it's not possible, my lord: we've come through terrible -dangers as it is." - -"Not possible! why not?" - -"The snow, my lord." - -"Snow! nonsense!--as if it never snowed before! Tell them who I am. I -say, you fellows, put horses to,--the distance is nothing;--go on;" and -Lord John pulled up the glass, threw himself again into his corner, and -the landlord, knowing that though they would inevitably be obliged to -return, the horses must be paid for, tipped the postilion the wink, and -on they went. - -_But not to Dover!_ Slowly they proceeded: now one wheel was up in the -air, and then the other. Lord John was himself startled when he saw the -deep drifts through which they waded; and when at last they stopped at a -low miserable hovel by the road-side, he no longer urged the possibility -of proceeding farther. - -"We must return to Canterbury." - -"Impossible, my lord: after we passed a part of the road which had been -cut between two hills, an immense mass of snow fell, and blocked it up. -It is a mercy it did not fall upon _us_;--we had a narrow escape." - -"We _can't_ stay here," said Lord John, looking at the wretched hut -before him. - -"We _must_ stay here," said one of the drivers. - -"Why, I haven't got my things!--what can I do, Faddle, without my -things? I haven't even a clean cambric handkerchief, nor a tooth-brush!" - -It was too true: it had appeared so easy to have his "_things_" unpacked -and placed on his dressing-table the moment he arrived at Dover, that -literally nothing had been provided. Intense cold soon drove Lord John -into the hut; from which, however, his first impulse was to emerge -again, so execrable were the fumes of bad tobacco, and so odious the -group which preoccupied the low chamber. - -"Walk in and welcome," cried a tipsy waggoner; "we be all friends." - -"Oh, faith!" said an Irish _lady_, whose husband, a "needy -knife-grinder," was asleep on the floor, "he's a rale gintleman, and -I'll give him a sate by myself, and p'raps he'll trate me to a drop of -comfort." - -Lord John felt exceedingly sick; and, choking with anger and -tobacco-smoke, he turned to the ragged lad of the house, and ordered a -private room. - -"There be no room, sir, but this here, besides that there up the ladder." - -"Up there, then," said his lordship, approaching it. - -"No, but ye can't though," said the lad interposing: "mother and -sister's asleep up there, and the waggoner's wife, and all the females -except she as sits there, by the fire." - -Lord John paused; he could not invade the territory of the fair sex: -what was to be done? - -"Can't I have a bed?" - -"There _be_ some dry straw left, I take it: I'll go and see, and give -you a shake down here, and welcome." - -"A shake down!" groaned his lordship, "Faddle!" - -"Yes, my lord." - -"Where are you?" - -"Here--dying, I believe; I never was so ill!" and there in truth lay -Faddle, rolling on the bare floor. - -"I say, Mother Murphy," said the tipsy Waggoner, "that ere chap's a -lord!" - -"They be going to do away wi' them, I hear," said the Radical -knife-grinder, waking up; "and a good job too;--werry useless fellors, I -take it." - -"Bless his pretty face!" said the Irish lady: "exchange is no robbery; -and I'd gi' him a kiss for a drop of the cratur." - -"You be hung!" cried her husband, throwing a stool at her head; "you've -had too much already." - -The fair representative of Hibernia was not to be put upon; up she -started, and there was a pitched battle between her and her husband, -which ended in the fall of both. - -Unused to fatigue, Lord John at last threw himself on his straw. But -what a night did he pass! the noise, the smell, the discomfort, the -fleas--oh! - -By many will the last week of 1836 be long remembered, but by none with -greater horror than by the Right Honourable Lord John Lavender. - -Without wholesome food,--without a change of linen,--exposed to cold, -privation, and every possible annoyance, he became seriously unwell; and -when, at the end of a week, the indefatigable Mr. Worthington opened a -communication between Dover and Canterbury by means of a sledge, the -poor prisoner was unable to avail himself of it. Some comforts and -necessary restoratives were, however, conveyed to him; and at the end -of another week, after the road had been traversed by many, four horses -were again put to his carriage, and, entering it like the shadow of his -former self, he once more started on his way to Dover. We have said that -there is a great advantage in having begun to "_make up_" early in life. -Not so, however, when the process has been suddenly and unavoidably -interrupted. But Lord John was sure to find all he wanted as soon as he -arrived at the Ship Hotel; a few hours' renovation would prepare him -for his interview with the fair Sophy. He threw himself back in the -carriage, and indulged in the most gratifying anticipations. - -He was roused from his reverie by the rapid approach of a chariot and -four greys; and, leaning forward, he caught a glimpse of Sophy,--the -lovely, amiable Sophy,--who, having heard of his dilemma, had, -doubtless, set out to seek him! - -"Stop! stop!" cried Lord John. "Here, Faddle, get down; call to those -drivers. Hollo there!--open the door--let down the step--give me your -arm--that will do: I'm delighted to see you, Sophy; I recognised you in -a minute: I was on my way to Dover to pay my respects." - -Sophy blushed, and smiled, and did not seem to know what to say: at last -she articulated, - -"Papa and mamma will be happy to see you, my lord: allow me to introduce -to your lordship my husband, Captain Mills;" and a gentleman leaned -forward and bowed, who had before been invisible. - -"Your lordship will be in time for the wedding-dinner; you will have the -kindness to say you have seen us." - -Saying thus, Captain Mills and _his lady_ again bowed and smiled; and, -leaving his lordship in amazement, the wedding equipage dashed on. - -Lord John Lavender proceeded to Dover, and, looking into some Sunday -chronicle of fashionable scandal, he saw that his friend of May-fair had -just entered into another _arrangement_. His case was desperate; and, -accompanied only by his valet, he proceeded on what lords and gentlemen -so circumstanced, call, a _Continental trip_. - -They who choose to read a document on a certain church-door, may -ascertain, that though no Robin Hood, the Right Honourable Lord John -Lavender is an outlaw. - - - - - FAMILY STORIES.--No. II. - LEGEND OF HAMILTON TIGHE. - - - Tapton Everard, Feb. 14, 1837. -FRIEND BENTLEY,--I see you have got hold of some of our family secrets; -but Seaforth was always a blab. No matter: as you _have_ found your way -into our circle, why, I suppose we must even make the best of it, and -let you go on. The revival of "Old Sir Giles's" story has set us all -rummaging among the family papers, of which there is a large chest full -"apud _castro_ de Tappington," as a literary friend of mine has it. In -the course of her researches, Caroline the other day popped upon the -history of a far-off cousin, some four or five generations back,--a -sad story,--a sort of Uriah business,--in which a principal part was -played by a great-great-aunt of ours. In order to secure her own child's -succession to a fair estate, she was always believed to have wantonly -exposed the life of her husband's only son by a former marriage; and -through the assistance of her brother, a sea-captain, to have at least -thrust him unnecessarily into danger, even if their machinations went -no farther. The lad was killed; and report said that an old boatswain -confessed on his death-bed--But Miss Simpkinson will tell you the -story better than I can. She has dished it up for you in her choicest -Pindarics; and though the maiden is meek, her muse is masculine. - - Yours, as it may be, - THOMAS INGOLDSBY. - - - THE LEGEND OF HAMILTON TIGHE. - - The captain is walking his quarter-deck, - With a troubled brow and a bended neck; - One eye is down through the hatchway cast, - The other turns up to the truck on the mast; - Yet none of the crew may venture to hint - "Our skipper hath gotten a sinister squint!" - - The captain again the letter hath read - Which the bum-boat woman brought out to Spithead-- - Still, since the good ship sailed away, - He reads that letter three times a-day; - Yet the writing is broad and fair to see - As a skipper may read in his degree, - And the seal is as black, and as broad, and as flat, - As his own cockade in his own cock'd hat: - He reads, and he says, as he walks to and fro, - "Curse the old woman--she bothers me so!" - - He pauses now, for the topmen hail-- - "On the larboard quarter a sail! a sail!" - That grim old captain he turns him quick, - And bawls through his trumpet for Hairy-faced Dick. - - "The breeze is blowing--huzza! huzza! - The breeze is blowing--away! away! - The breeze is blowing--a race! a race! - The breeze is blowing--we near the chase! - Blood will flow, and bullets will fly,-- - Oh where will be then young Hamilton Tighe?"-- - - --"On the fman's deck, where a man should be, - With his sword in his hand, and his f at his knee. - Cockswain, or boatswain, or reefer may try, - But the first man on board will be Hamilton Tighe!" - - * * * * * - - Hairy-faced Dick hath a swarthy hue, - Between a gingerbread nut and a Jew, - And his pigtail is long, and bushy, and thick, - Like a pump-handle stuck on the end of a stick. - Hairy-faced Dick understands his trade; - He stands by the breech of a long carronade, - The linstock glows in his bony hand, - Waiting that grim old skipper's command. - - "The bullets are flying--huzza! huzza! - The bullets are flying--away! away!" - The brawny boarders mount by the chains, - And are over their buckles in blood and brains: - On the fman's deck, where a man should be, - Young Hamilton Tighe - Waves his cutlass high, - And _Capitaine Crapaud_ bends low at his knee. - - Hairy-faced Dick, linstock in hand, - Is waiting that grim-looking skipper's command:-- - A wink comes sly - From that sinister eye-- - Hairy-faced Dick at once lets fly, - And knocks off the head of young Hamilton Tighe! - - * * * * * - - There's a lady sits lonely in bower and hall, - Her pages and handmaidens come at her call: - "Now haste ye, my handmaidens, haste and see - How he sits there and glow'rs with his head on his knee!" - The maidens smile, and, her thought to destroy, - They bring her a little pale mealy-faced boy; - And the mealy-faced boy says, "Mother dear, - Now Hamilton's dead, I've a thousand a-year!" - - The lady has donn'd her mantle and hood, - She is bound for shrift at St. Mary's Rood:-- - "Oh! the taper shall burn, and the bell shall toll, - And the mass shall be said for my step-son's soul, - And the tablet fair shall be hung up on high, - _Orate pro anima Hamilton Tighe!_" - - Her coach and four - Draws up to the door, - With her groom, and her footman, and half a score more; - The lady steps into her coach alone, - And they hear her sigh and they hear her groan; - They close the door, and they turn the pin, - _But there's one rides with her who never stept in_! - All the way there, and all the way back, - The harness strains, and the coach-springs crack, - The horses snort, and plunge, and kick, - Till the coachman thinks he is driving Old Nick: - And the grooms and the footmen wonder and say, - "What makes the old coach so heavy to-day?" - But the mealy-faced boy peeps in, and sees - A man sitting there with his head on his knees. - - 'Tis ever the same, in hall or in bower, - Wherever the place, whatever the hour, - That lady mutters and talks to the air, - And her eye is fixed on an empty chair; - But the mealy-faced boy still whispers with dread, - "She talks to a man with never a head!" - - * * * * * - - There's an old yellow admiral living at Bath, - As grey as a badger, as thin as a lath; - And his very queer eyes have such very queer leers, - They seem to be trying to peep at his ears. - That old yellow admiral gs to the Rooms, - And he plays long whist, but he frets and fumes, - For all his knaves stand upside down, - And the Jack of clubs ds nothing but frown; - And the kings, and the aces, and all the best trumps, - Get into the hands of the other old frumps; - While, close to his partner, a man he sees - Counting the tricks with his head on his knees. - - In Ratcliffe Highway there's an old marine store, - And a great black doll hangs out at the door; - There are rusty locks, and dusty bags, - And musty phials, and fusty rags, - And a lusty old woman, called Thirsty Nan, - And her crusty old husband's a hairy-faced man! - - That hairy-faced man is sallow and wan, - And his great thick pigtail is wither'd and gone; - And he cries, "Take away that lubberly chap - That sits there and grins with his head in his lap!" - And the neighbours say, as they see him look sick, - "What a rum old covey is Hairy-faced Dick!" - - That admiral, lady, and hairy-faced man - May say what they please, and may do what they can; - But one thing seems remarkably clear,-- - They may die to-morrow, or live till next year,-- - But wherever they live, or whenever they die, - They'll never get quit of young Hamilton Tighe. - - - - - NIGHTS AT SEA: - _Or, Sketches of Naval Life during the War_. - BY THE OLD SAILOR. - - THE CAPTAIN'S CABIN. - - For the purple Nautilus is my boat, - In which I over the waters float; - The moon is shining upon the sea. - Who is there will come and sail with me?--L.E.L. - -Of all the craft that ever swam upon salt-water give me the dashing -forty-four gun frigate, with a ship's company of dare-devils who would -board his Satanic Majesty's kitchen in the midst of cooking-time, if -they could only get a gallant spirit to lead them. And pray, what would -a ship's company be without leaders? for, after all, it is the officers -that make the men what they are; so that, when I see a well-rigged -man-o'-war, in which discipline is preserved without unnecessary -punishment or toil, that's the hooker for me; and such was his Britannic -Majesty's frigate, "the saucy, thrash-'em-all SPANKAWAY," for by that -title was she known from Yarmouth Roads to the Land's End. Oh, she was a -lovely creature! almost a thing of life! and it would be outraging the -principles of beauty to give her any other than a female designation. -Everybody has been in love some time or other in the course of his -existence, and the object of affection was no doubt an angel in the eyes -of the ardent lover:--just so was the frigate to me--an angel; for she -had wings, and her movements were regulated by the breath of heaven. -She was the very standard of loveliness, the most exquisite of graceful -forms. At anchor she sat upon the water with all the elegance and ease -of the cygnet, or like a queen reclining on her downy couch. Under weigh -she resembled the pretty pintado bird skimming the billow tops, or the -fleet dolphin darting from wave to wave. Then to see her climb the -rolling swell, or cleave the rising foam, baptising her children with -the spray, and naming them her seamen--Oh, it was a spectacle worth a -life to witness! - -And who was her captain? the intrepid Lord Eustace Dash; a man more -ennobled by his acts than by the courtesy which conferred his title; one -who loved the women, hated the French, and had a constitutional liking -for the rattling reports of a long-eighteen. His first lieutenant, Mr. -Seymour, knew his duty, and performed it. The second lieutenant, Mr. -Sinnitt, followed the example of his senior. The third lieutenant, Mr. -Nugent, obeyed orders, touched the guitar, and was extremely anxious -to become an author. Then there was Mr. Scalpel, the surgeon; Mr. -Squeez'em, the purser; and Mr. Parallel, the master; with the two marine -officers, Plumstone and Peabody. Such were the _élite_ of the frigate; -but it would be unpardonable--a sort of sea-sacrilege--not to notice Mr. -Savage, the boatswain; Mr. Blueblazes, the gunner; and Mr. Bracebit, the -carpenter, all good men and true, who had come in at the hawse-holes, -and served through the various gradations till they mounted the -anchor-button on their long-tailed coats. As for the mates, midshipmen, -and assistant-surgeons, there was a very fair sprinkling,--the demons of -the orlop, each with his nickname. Her crew--but we will speak of them -presently. - -Hark! it is four bells, in the first dog-watch; and there rolls the -summons by the drum, calling the brave to arms. See how the hatchways -pour forth the living mass! and in three minutes every soul fore and aft -is at his appointed post. The gallant ship lies almost slumbering on the -fair bosom of the waters, and the little progress she ds make is as -noiseless as a delightful dream; like the lone point in the centre of -a circle, she is surrounded by the blue waves, and nothing intervenes -to break the connected curve of the horizon. Upon the quarter-deck, his -right hand thrust into his waistcoat, and his feet firmly planted on the -white plank, as if desirous of making the bark feel his own peculiar -weight, stands her brave commander: near him Mr. Squeez'em and two -young imps of aides-de-camp take up their allotted stations; the former -to note and minute down the details of action, the latter to fly to -the infernal regions of the magazine,or anywhere else, at the bidding -of their chief. The lieutenants are mustering their divisions through -the agency of the young gentlemen; the surgeon and his assistants, -happily having nothing to do below, appear abaft the mizen-mast; -whilst Mr. Parallel holds brief consultation with the veteran Savage, -whose portrait is affixed to each cat-head. Mr. Bracebit is sounding -the well, and old Blueblazes is skimming about wherever circumstances -require his presence. The marines, stiffened with pipe-clay, and their -heads immoveable from what the negroes appropriately call "a top-boot -round de neck," are parading on the gangway--their thumbs as stark as -tobacco-stoppers, and their fingers as straight as a "hap'orth of pins." -What a compound of pomatum and heel-ball, pipe-clay and sand-paper! - -And now the officers give in their reports to the captain, who walks -round the quarters to make a personal inspection, and, as he looks along -the frowning battery, his lordship is proud of his bonny bark; whilst, -as he gazes on his gallant crew, his heart exults in beholding some of -the finest specimens of Britain's own that ever made their "home upon -the deep." - -"What think you of the weather, Mr. Parallel?" inquires his lordship, on -returning to the quarter-deck. "Will it be fine to-night?" - -The old man scans the horizon with an eye of professional scrutiny, -and then replies, "I have my doubts, my lord; but at this time o' year -the helements are beyond the ken of human understanding. I've been up -the Mediterranean, off and on, man and boy, some five-and-forty years; -it is to me like the face of a parent to a child, but I never could -discover from its features what was passing in its heart, or the fit it -would take next; one minute a calm, the next a squall; one hour a gentle -breeze that just keeps the sails asleep, the next a gale of wind enough -to blow the devil's horns off." - -Lord Eustace well knows the veteran's peculiarities; indeed he is the -only privileged talker in the ship, and so much esteemed by all, that no -one seeks to check his loquacity. - -"Beat the retreat, and reef the topsails, Mr. Seymour," cries the -captain to his first lieutenant, and the latter despatches one of the -young gentlemen to repeat the orders. - -Rub-a-dub gs the drum again; but before the sound of the last tap has -died away, the twhit-twhit of the boatswain's call summons his mates -to their duty; a loud piping succeeds, and "Reef topsails ahoy!" is -bellowed forth from lungs that might have been cased with sheet-iron, -so hoarse is the appeal. And see! before you can slue round to look, -from the tack of the flying-jib to the outer clue of the spanker, the -lower rattlins of the fore, main, and mizen shrouds are thronged with -stout active young men, who keep stealthily ascending, till the first -lieutenant's "Away aloft!" sends them up like sparks from a chimney-pot. -The topsails are lowered, the studding-sail booms are triced up, the -topmen mount the horses, the earings are hauled out, the reef-points -tied, the sails rehoisted, and the men down on deck again in one minute -and fifty-two seconds from the moment the halliards first rattled from -the rack. - -"Very well done, Mr. Seymour!" exclaims his lordship, as he stands near -the wheel, with his gold repeater in his hand; "and cleverly reefed too: -those after-points are well taut, and show as straight a line as if it -had been ruled by a schoolmaster." - -"Natur's their schoolmaster, my lord," says old Parallel, with a pleased -and business-like countenance; "and, consequently, they have everything -well taut." - -"Very good, master," exclaimed his lordship, laughing, "you get more -witty than ever." - -"It's strange," muttered the veteran, surlily, "that I can't speak a -simple truth, without their logging it down again' me for wit. For my -part I see no wit in it." - -"Pipe the hammocks down, Mr. Seymour; give them half an hour, and then -call the watch," orders his lordship. - -"Ay, ay, sir!" responds the first lieutenant. "Stand by the hammocks, -Mr. Savage." - -"Twhit-twhit!" gs the boatswain's call, followed by a voice like a -distant thunderclap, "Hammocks ahoy!" and away flies every man to the -nettings; but not a lashing is touched till the whole have found owners, -(the occupation of a minute,) when the first lieutenant's "Pipe down!" -draws forth a lark-like chirping of the calls, and in a few seconds the -whole have disappeared; even the hammock-men to the young gentlemen have -fetched their duplicate, and the cloths are rolled up for the night. The -gallant Nelson had his coffin publicly exhibited in his cabin; but what -of that? the seaman constantly sleeps in his coffin, for such is his -hammock should he die at sea. - -Lord Eustace has retired to his cabin, and the officers are pacing to -and fro the quarter-deck, conversing on - - "Promotion, mess-debts, absent friends, and love." - -The glory of the day is on the wane; the full round moon arises bright -and beautiful, like a gigantic pearl from the coral caverns of the -ocean; but there is a sort of sallow mistiness upon the verge of the -western horizon, tinged with vermeil streaks from the last rays of the -setting sun, that produce feelings of an undefined and undefinable -nature: yet there is nothing threatening, for all is delightfully -tranquil; no cloud appears to excite apprehensions, for there is a -smile upon the face of the heavens, and its dimples are reflected on -the surface of the clear waters as assurances of safety. Yet, why are -there many keen and experienced eyes glancing at that sickly aspect of -the west, as if it were something which tells them of sudden squalls, -of whirling hurricanes, like the unnatural flush that gives warning of -approaching fever. - -"The captain will be happy to have the company of the gun-room officers, -to wind up the day, sir," said his lordship's steward, addressing the -first lieutenant. - -"The gun-room officers, much obliged, will wait upon his lordship," -returned Mr. Seymour; then, turning to Mr. Parallel, "Come, master; what -attracts your attention there to windward? The captain has sent us an -invitation to take our grog with him. Are you ready?" - -"Ay, ay!" responded the old man, "with pleasure; his lordship means -to make Saturday night of it, I suppose; and I must own it has been a -precious long week, though, according to the log, it's ounly Thursday." - -The cabin of Lord Eustace had nothing splendid about it; the guns were -secured by the tackles, ready for instant use, and everything was plain -and simple; the deck was carpeted, and the furniture, handsome of its -kind, more suited for utility than show. The baize-covered table was -amply supplied with wines, spirits, and liquors, which his lordship -prided himself in never having but of the best quality; and a jovial -party sat around to enjoy the invigorating cheer. - -"Gentlemen," said his lordship, rising, "The King!" - -Heartily was that toast drunk, for never was monarch more affectionately -served by his royal navy than George the Third. Other toasts were -given, national and characteristic songs were sung; the relaxation of -discipline loosened the restraints on harmony, and that kindly feeling -prevailed which forms the best bond of union amongst the officers, and -commands respect and esteem from the men. - -"Come, Mr. Nugent, have you nothing new to give us? no fresh effusion of -the muse?" enquired his lordship. - -"As for any thing fresh," said old Parallel, "I know he puts us all into -a pretty pickle with his 'briny helement,' and in his 'salt-sea sprays,' -everlasting spouting like a fin-back at play; what with him and the -marines' flutes I suffer a sort of cable-laid torture." - -"You've no taste for ptry, master," returned the young officer: "but -come, I'll give you my last song; Plumstone has set it to music;" and -with a clear sonorous voice he sang the following: - - "Hail to the flag--the gallant flag! Britannia's proudest boast; - Her herald o'er the distant sea, the guardian of her coast; - Where'er 'tis spread, on field or flood, the blazonry of fame; - And Britons hail its mastery with shouts of loud acclaim. - - Hail to the flag--the gallant flag! in battle or in blast; - Whether 'tis hoisted at the peak, or nail'd to splinter'd mast; - Though rent by service or by shot, all tatter'd it may be, - Old England's tars shall still maintain its dread supremacy. - - Hail to the flag--the gallant flag, that Nelson proudly bore, - When hostile banners waved aloft, amid the cannon's roar! - When France and Spain in unison the deadly battle close, - And deeper than its own red hue the vital current flows. - - Hail to the flag--the gallant flag! for it is Victory's own, - Though Trafalgar re-echs still the hero's dying groan; - The Spaniards dows'd their jaundiced rag on that eventful day, - And Gallic eagles humbly crouch'd, acknowledging our sway. - - Hail to the flag--the gallant flag! come, hoist it once again; - And show the haughty nations round, our throne is on the main; - Our ships are crowns and sceptres, whose titles have no flaw, - And legislators are our guns dispensing cannon law. - - Once more then hail the gallant flag! the seaman's honest pride, - Who loves to see it flaunt the breeze, and o'er the ocean ride; - Like the genius of his country, 'tis ever bold and free; - And he will prove, where'er it flies, we're sovereigns of the sea." - -"Very fair, very fair, Mr. Nugent," said his lordship; "and not badly -sung, either." - -"Ay, ay, my lord, the youngster's well enough," chimed in old Parallel; -"but, what with his ptry and book-making, I'm half afraid he'll forget -the traverse-tables altogether." - -"And pray how ds the book-making, as the master calls it, get on, -Nugent?" inquired the captain: "have you made much progress?" - -"I have commenced, my lord," returned the junior lieutenant, pulling out -some papers from his pocket; "and, with your lordship's permission----" - -"You'll inflict it upon us," grumbled the old master, and shrugging up -his shoulders as he perceived his messmate was actually about to read, -whether the captain sanctioned it or not. - -"Now then, attention to my introduction!" said Nugent, holding up the -manuscript, heedless of the nods and winks of his companions; "I'm sure -you'll like it. 'The moon is high in the mid heavens, and not a single -envious cloud frowns darkly upon her fair loveliness; there is a flood -of silvery light; and fleecy vapours, with their hoary crests, like -snow-wreaths from the mountain top, float on its surface to do honour to -the queen of night. The winds are sporting with the waters; the amorous -waves are heaving up their swelling bosoms to be kissed by the warm -breeze that comes laden with perfumes from the sunny clime of Italy. -There is a glow of crimson lingering in the west, as if departing day -blushed for her wanton sister. Hail, thou inland sea, upon whose breast -the gallant hers of the British isles have fought and conquered! -Ancient history recounts thy days of old, and the bold shores that -bind thee in their arms stand as indubitable records of the truth of -Holy Writ. The tall ship, reflected on thy ocean mirror, seems to view -her symmetry in silent exultation, as if conscious of her grandeur and -her beauty, her majesty and her might. The giantess of the deep, her -lightnings sleeping and her thunders hushed, dances lightly o'er thy -mimic billows, and curtseys to the gentle gale.' There, my lord, that is -the way I begin: and I appeal to your well-known judgment whether it is -not a pretty picture, and highly ptical." - -"A pretty picture truly," grumbled old Parallel: "it ounly wants a -squadron of angels seated with their bare starns upon the wet clouds, -scudding away before it like colliers in the Sevin, and in one corner -the heads of a couple o' butcher's boys blowing wooden skewers, and -then it would be complete. Why, there's the marine a-laughing at you. -Talk about the winds kissing the waves, indeed. Ay, ay, young sir, when -you've worked as many reckonings as ould Will Parallel,--and that's -myself,--you'll find 'em kiss somat else, or you'll have better luck -than your neighbours. Why don't you stick to Natur, if you mean to -write a book? and how'll the log stand then?--Why, His Majesty's ship -Spankaway cruising in the Mediterranean: and if you've worked your day's -work, you ought to know the latitude and longitude. Well, there she is, -with light winds and fine weather, under double-reefed top-sels, jib, -and spanker, the courses snugly hauled up, the t'gant-sels furled in -a skin as smooth as an infant's, the staysels nicely stowed, and not -a yard of useless canvass abroad. There'd be some sense in that, and -everybody would understand it; but as for your kissing and blushing, and -such like stuff, why it's all nonsense." - -"That's always the way with you matter-o'-fact men," retorted -the lieutenant: "you make no allowance for the colourings of the -imagination; your ideas of the picturesque never go beyond the ship's -paint." - -"But they do, though, my young friend," asseverated the master, to the -great amusement of all present. "Show me the ship's paint that can -compare with the ruby lustre of this fine old port--here's a discharge -of grape." - -"That's a metaphor, master," said the purser; "and, moreover,"--and he -seemed to shudder at the abomination,--"it is a pun." - -"Ay, ay," answered the veteran, holding up his glass to the light, and -eyeing its contents with evident satisfaction, "we've often met afore; -and as for the pun, I'll e'en swallow it;" and he drank off his wine -amidst a general laugh. "But do you really mean to write a book, Nugent?" - -"I do, indeed, master," answered the lieutenant; "but whether it will be -read or not is an affair for others to determine. I've got as far as I -have repeated to you, and must now pick up incidents and characters." - -"A bundle of shakings and a head-rope of wet swabs!" uttered the old -master contemptuously. "Stick to your log-book, Mr. Nugent, if ever -you hopes to get command of such a sweet craft as this here, of which -I have the honour to be the master. Larn to keep the ship's reck'ning, -and leave authorship to the poor devils who starves by it. There's -ounly two books as ever I look at--Hamilton Moore and the Bible; and -though I never yet sailed in a craft that rated a parson in commission, -yet I make out the latter tolerably well, notwithstanding my edication -sometimes gets jamm'd in a clinch, and my knowledge thrown slap aback: -but that's all nat'ral; for how can a man work to wind'ard through a -narrow passage without knowing somut o' the soundings or the outline -o' the coast. Howsomever, there's one course as is plain enough, and I -trust it will carry me clear at last,--to do my duty by my king, God -bless him!--and whilst the yards of conscience are squared by the lifts -and braces of honesty, I have no fear but I shall cheat the devil of one -messmate, and that's ould Will--myself." - -"A toast, gentlemen--a toast!" exclaimed his lordship in high animation; -"'The master of the Spankaway and his lady-mate.'" - -"I beg pardon, my lord," interrupted the surgeon, "the master is not -married; he is yet a solitary bachelor." - -"True--most true," chimed in Nugent, laughing; "for, according to the -words of the pt, - - "None but himself can be his PARALLEL." - -"You are too fastidious, gentlemen," said his lordship: "remember, it -is 'Wives and sweethearts;' and, as it is a favourite toast of mine, -we will, if you please, drink it standing." The toast was drunk with -all due honours. "And now," continued his lordship, "without further -preface, I shall volunteer a song, which Nugent may hoist into his book, -if he pleases. - - "Drink, drink to dear woman, whose beautiful eye, - Like the diamond's rich lustre or gem in the sky, - Is beaming with rapture, full, sparkling, and bright-- - Here's woman, the soul of man's choicest delight. - - CHORUS. - Then fill up a bumper, dear woman's our toast, - Our comfort in sorrows--in pleasure our boast. - - Drink, drink to dear woman, and gaze on her smile; - Love hides in those dimples his innocent guile: - 'Tis a signal for joy--'tis a balm for all w;-- - Here's woman, dear woman, man's heaven below. - - CHORUS. - Then fill up a bumper, dear woman's our toast, - Our comfort in sorrow--in pleasure our boast. - - Drink, drink to dear woman, and look on her tear:-- - Is it pain?--is it grief?--is it hope?--is it fear? - Oh! kiss it away, and believe whilst you press, - Here's woman, dear woman, man's friend in distress. - - CHORUS. - Then fill up a bumper, dear woman's our toast, - Our comfort in sorrow--in pleasure our boast. - - Drink, drink to dear woman, whose exquisite form - Was never design'd to encounter the storm, - Yet should sickness assail us, or trouble o'ercast, - Here's woman, dear woman, man's friend to the last. - - CHORUS. - Then fill up a bumper, dear woman's our toast, - Our comfort in sorrow--in pleasure our boast." - -As in duty bound, this song elicited great applause, and Nugent declared -he should most certainly avail himself of his lordship's proposal for -inserting it in his book. "But you have done nothing, Mr. Nugent," said -the captain. "You say you want incident and character. You have already -taken the frigate for your text;--there's the master now, a perfect -character." - -"For the love of good old port," exclaimed Parallel, as if alarmed, "let -me beg of you not to gibbet me in your consarn. But I'm not afraid of -it; book-making requires some head-piece; there's nothing to be done -without a head, nor ever has been." - -"I must differ with you there, Mr. Parallel," said Seymour -unobtrusively; "for I myself saw a very difficult thing done literally -without a head. - -"Galvanised, I suppose," uttered the doctor in a tone of inquiry; "the -power of the battery is wonderful." - -"There assuredly was a battery, doctor," responded the lieutenant, -laughing; "and a very heavy one too. But the event I'm speaking of had -no connexion with galvanism: it was sheer muscular motion." - -"Out with it, Seymour!"--"Let's have it by all means!"--"It will be an -incident for Nugent!"--"Out with it!" burst forth simultaneously from -all. - -"It certainly is curious," said the first lieutenant, assuming much -gravity of countenance, "and happened when I was junior luff of the old -Sharksnose. We were running into Rio Janeiro man-o'-war fashion, with a -pennant as long as a purser's account at the masthead, and a spanking -ensign hoisted at the gaff-end, with a fly that would have swept all the -sheep off of the Isle of Wight. Away we gallop'd along, when a shot from -Santa Cruz, the three-deck'd battery at the entrance, came slap into our -bows. 'Tell him we're pretty well, thanky,' shouted the skipper; and -our jolly first, who took his meaning, literally pointed the fokstle -gun, clapp'd the match to the priming, and off went the messenger, which -struck the sentry, who was pacing his post, right between the shoulders, -and whipt off his head as clean as you would snap a carrot; he was a -stout-made powerful-looking man, and by sheer muscular motion, as I said -before, his head flew up from his body at least a fathom and a half, -and actually descended upon the point of his bayonet, where it stuck -fast, and the unfortunate fellow walked the whole length of the rampart -in that way; nor was it till he got to the turn, and was steering round -to come back again, that he discovered the loss of his head, when, -according to the most approved practice in similar surgical cases, he -fell to the ground. It was sheer muscular motion, gentlemen,--sheer -muscular motion." - -"He would, no doubt, have been a good mussulman, Seymour, if he had been -a Turk," said his lordship. - -"He couldn't come the right-about face," said Peabody, "having lost his -head. It would have been a comical sight to have seen him present arms; -pray did he come to the present?" - -"No, nor yet to the recover, I'll be sworn," observed Plumstone; "no -doubt he grounded his arms and his head too." - -"Them chance shots often do the most mischief," remarked Parallel. "Who -would have thought that it would have gone right through his chest, so -as to leave him a headless trunk. Pray may I ax you whether he was near -his box?" - -"Well hove and strong, master," exclaimed Sinnitt, joining in the -general laugh; "your wit equals your beauty." - -"What have I said that's witty now?" returned the veteran; "I can't open -my mouth to utter a word of truth, or to ax a question, but I'm called a -wit; for my part, I see no wit in it." - -"Your anecdote," said his lordship, "reminds me of something similar -that I witnessed, when a youngster, at one of the New Zealand Isles. Our -captain took a party of us to see his dun-coloured majesty at court. -The monarch was seated in a mud, or rather clay building, nearly in -a state of nudity, his only covering being an old uniform coat and a -huge cocked-hat: his queens--happy man! I think he had seventy--not -quite so decently dressed as himself, were squatting, or lying down, in -different directions; several of them with such ornaments through their -lips and noses, as would have answered the purpose of rings in the decks -to a stopper'd best bower cable. I heartily wish some of our court -ladies could have seen this royal spectacle. We were ushered in through -an entrance, on each side of which was a pile of heads without tails -to them, most probably dropped in their hurry to wait upon the king. -His majesty was a man of mild countenance, and of most imperturbable -gravity; behind him stood a gigantic-looking rascal, with an enormous -dragoon's sabre over his shoulder, by way of warning to his majesty's -wives not to disturb his majesty's repose, or it was amongst the chances -of royalty that he would shorten their bodies and their days at the -same moment,--a sort of summary process to make good women of them; and -I began to suspect that some of those which we saw at the entrance had -once touched noses with his most disgusting majesty,--for a filthier -fellow I never set eyes on. You've, no doubt, seen some of those -curiously figured heads which grow upon New Zealand shoulders, for many -have been brought to England: our skipper, who was a sort of collector -of curiosities, was extremely desirous of obtaining one, but he was -aware that it was only the head men who were thus marked or tattod, -and he had run his eye over the samples at the doorway, but could not -detect one chief who had been deprived of his caput. Nevertheless, -by signs and through means of a Scotch interpreter, (for the prime -minister to Longchewfishcow was a Scotchman,) his majesty was informed -of the captain's wish; and in a short time several natives handsomely -tattod were drawn up within the building: the skipper was requested -to select the figures which pleased him most; and he, imagining that -the chiefs had been exhibited merely by way of pattern, fixed upon one -whose features appeared to have had pricked off upon them every day's -run of the children of Israel when cruising in the wilderness. The chief -bowed in token of satisfaction at being thus highly honoured; but, -before he could raise his head, it sprang away from his shoulders into -the captain's arms, with thanks for the compliment yet passing from the -lips:--the life-guardsman of the king had obeyed his majesty's signal, -and the dragoon's sabre had made sharp work of it." - -"It was quick and dead," said the old master. "Now, Mr. Nugent, you may -begin your book as soon as you please. I'm sure you have plenty of heads -to work upon." - -"You talk as if I had no head of my own, master," retorted the -lieutenant, somewhat offended; "and with all your wit you shall find -that I have got a head." - -"So has a scupper-nail," returned the veteran, "but it requires a deal -of hammering before you can get it to the leather." - -"Good-humour, gentlemen! good-humour!" said the captain, laughing; "no -recriminations, if you please, or we shall bring some of your heads to -the block." - -"To make blockheads of 'em, I suppose," observed old Parallel; "by -every rope in the top, but that's done already! Howsomever, as you are -lecturing upon heads, why I'll just relate an anecdote of a circumstance -that I was eyewitness to upwards of thirty years ago. I was then just -appointed acting-master of the 'Never-so-quick,' one o' your ould ship -sloops; and we were cruising in among the West Ingee islands, but more -especially boxing about the island of Cuba, and that way, for pirates. -Well, one morning at daybreak the look-out had just got upon the -foretopsel-yard, when word was passed that there were two sail almost -alongside of each other, and dead down to looard of us. There was a -nice little breeze, and so we ups stick, squares the yards, and sets -the stud'nsels a both sides, to run down and overhaul the strangers, -though we made pretty certain it was a pirate plundering a capture; and -we was the more convinced of the fact when broad daylight came, and our -glasses showed that one of 'em was a long low schooner, just such a one -as the picarooning marauders risk'd their necks in, and certainly better -judges of a swift craft never dipp'd their hands in a tar-bucket. She -saw us a-coming, and away she pay'd off before the wind, and up went a -squaresel of light duck that dragg'd the creatur along beautifully. The -other craft, a large brig, lay quite still with her maintopsel to the -mast, except that she came up and fell off as if her helm was lash'd -a-lee, Now the best point of the ould Never-so-quick's sailing was right -afore it, and so we not only held our own, but draw'd upon the vagabond -thief that was doing his best to slip his head out of a hangman's -noose, when it fell stark calm, the brig lying about midway between his -Majesty's ship and the devil's own schooner. Out went her sweeps, and -out went our boats; but she altered her course to get in shore, and -without a breath of wind they swept her along at the rate of four knots -and a half, whilst our ould beauty would hardly move; so the captain -recalls the boats, and orders 'em to overhaul the brig. We got alongside -about noon, a regular wasting burning hot noon; and we found a hand cut -off at the wrist grasping one of the main-chain plates, so that it could -hardly be disengaged." - -"Muscular power!" said Seymour; "the death-grapple, no doubt! -astonishing tenacity notwithstanding." - -"Howsomever, we did open the fingers," continued the master, "and found -by its delicate whiteness, and a ring on the wedding-finger, that it -belonged to a woman. When we got on board, the blood in various parts -of the quarter-deck, and at the gangways, indicated the murderous -tragedy that had been acted; but no semblance of human being could we -find except a head,--a bloody head that seemed to have been purposely -placed upon a flour-cask that was upended near the windlass. 'Well, -I'm bless'd,' says one of our boasun's-mates, who had steered the -pinnace,--'I'm bless'd if they arn't shaved you clean enough at any -rate; but d--my tarry trousers, look at that!--why then I'm a Dutchman -if it arn't winking at me.'--'Bathershin!' says an Irish topman, 'it's -stretching his daylights he is, mightily plased to see such good -company;' and sure enough the eyes were rolling about in a strange -fashion for a head as had no movables to consort to it; and presently -the mouth opened wide, and then the teeth snap'd to again, just like -a cat-fish at St. Jago's. 'It's a horrible sight,' said one of the -cutters, 'and them fellows'll go to ---- for it, that's one consolation; -but ain't it mighty queer, sir, that a head without ever a body should -be arter making such wry faces, and opening and shutting his sallyport, -seeing as he's scratched out of his mess?' A hideous grin distorted -every feature,--so hideous that it made me shudder; and first one eye -and then the other opened in rapid succession. 'I say, Jem,' says one of -the pinnaces to the boasun's-mate,--'I say, Jem, mayhap the gentleman -wants a bit o' pig-tail, for most likely he arn't had a chaw since -he lost his 'bacca-box.' This sally, with the usual recklessness of -seamen, produced a general laugh, which emboldened Jem to take out his -quid, and, watching an opportunity, he claps it into between the jaws; -but before he could gather in the slack of his arm, the teeth were fast -hold of his fingers, and there he was, jamm'd like Jackson, and roaring -out ten thousand murders. He tried to snatch his hand away, but the head -held on to the cask like grim death against the doctor; at last away -it roll'd over and Jem got clear, but the head stuck fast, and then -we discovered that there was a body inside. The head of the cask had -been taken out, and a hole cut hardly large enough to admit of the poor -fellow's neck; but nevertheless it had been hoop'd up again, and when -we got on board he was in the last convulsive gasps of strangulation. -We released him immediately, but it was only to find him so shockingly -mutilated that he died in about ten minutes afterwards; and not a soul -was left to tell us the fatal tale, though from an ensign and some -shreds of papers we conjectured the brig was a Spaniard. The pirates had -scuttled her. She made water too fast to think of saving her, and in a -couple of hours she went down." - -"Thankye, master, thankye," exclaimed several; "why we shall have you -writing a book before long, and you'll beat Nugent out and out. See, -he's ready to yield the palm." - -"Him!" uttered the old man, with a look expressive of rather more -contempt than the young lieutenant merited. "Him!" - -"Come, master," said Nugent, "we _must_ have your song,--it is your turn -next." - -"So it appears," replied the old man, as the frigate suddenly heeled -over. "You have had so much singing that even the winds must have a -_squall_." They were rising hastily from their seats, when in an instant -the frigate was nearly thrown on her beam-ends. Away went Parallel -right over the table into the stomach of the marine Peabody, whom he -capsized; and before another moment elapsed the gallant captain and his -officers were scrambling between the guns to leeward, and half buried in -water, amidst broken decanters and glasses, sea-biscuit and bottles. Old -Parallel grasped a decanter of port that was clinking its sides against -a ring-bolt, and, unwilling that so much good stuff should be wasted, -clapped the mouth to his own; the purser was fishing for his wig, as he -was extremely tenacious on the score of his bald head; the captain and -Seymour were trying for the door; the doctor got astride one gun, and -the two marine officers struggled for the other, so that as fast as one -got hold his messmate unhorsed him again. Sinnitt had crawled up to the -table, and Nugent twisted his coat-laps round him to preserve his MS. -from becoming saturated. The frigate righted again. His lordship and his -lieutenants rushed on deck, to behold the three topmasts, with all their -lengths of upper spars, hanging over the side, having in a white squall -been snapped short off by the caps. We will leave them in the present to - - "Call all hands to clear the wreck." - - - - - REMAINS OF HAJJI BABA. - -It appears that Hajji Baba, the Persian adventurer, known in this -country as the author of certain memoirs, is no more. In what particular -manner he quitted this world, we have not been able to ascertain; but, -through the kindness of a friend recently returned from the East, we -have been put in possession of the fragment of a Journal written by him, -by which we learn that he once again visited England (although incog.) -some time after the passing of the Reform bill. The view which he, his -Shah, and his nation, took of that event, is so characteristic of the -ignorance in which Eastern people live in matters relative to Europe, -and to England in particular, that we deem ourselves fortunate in being -able to lay so curious a document before our readers, and shall take -the liberty, from time to time, to insert portions of it, until it be -entirely exhausted. - - - CHAPTER I. - -Since my return from Frangistan, the current of my existence flowed more -like the waters of a canal than those of a river. I have been allowed to -smoke the pipe of tranquillity, rested upon the carpet of content; and -as my duties, which principally consisted in standing before the king -at stated times, and saying "_Belli_--Yes," and "_Mashallah_--Praise -be to God!" at proper intervals, I could not complain of the weight of -responsibility imposed upon me. - -I lived in the smallest of houses, consisting of one room, a sh -closet, and a small court; also of a kitchen. My principal amusement -was to sit in my room and look into my court-yard, and, as one must -think, my thoughts frequently would run upon my travels, upon the -strange things which I had seen, and upon the individuals with whom I -had become acquainted. My heart would soften as it dwelt upon the charms -of the moon-faced Bessy, and would rouse into anger when I reflected -that she was possessed by the infidel Figsby, at a time that she might -have been the head of the harem of a true believer. I frequently -recalled to myself all the peculiarities of the strange nation with -which I had lived, and compared it with my own. I brought to mind all -its contrivances to be happy, its House of Commons and its House of -Lords, its eternal quarrels, its cryings after "justice and no justice," -and its dark climate. I read over my journals, and thus lived my life -over again; but in proportion as years passed away, so I thought it -right, in relating my adventures to my countrymen, to diminish the most -wonderful parts of my narrative, for I found that, had I not done so, I -should have been set down as the greatest liar in Persia. Truth cannot -be told at all times,--that is a common saying; but now I found, in -what regarded the Francs, that truth ought never to be told. When, -on my return to Persia, I informed my countrymen that their men and -women lived together promiscuously,--that everybody drank wine and ate -pork,--that they never prayed,--that their kings danced, and that they -had no harems, I was believed, because I had many to confirm what I -said; but now that I stood alone, I found it would not do to venture -such assertions, for whenever I did I was always told that such events -might have taken place when I was in Frangistan, but that now Allah was -great, and that the holy Prophet could not allow such abominations to -exist. - -The news of the death of the King of England, to whom I had been -presented, had reached the ears of our Shah; and we were informed that -he was succeeded by his brother, a lord of the sea. Years passed away, -with all their various events, without much intercourse taking place -between Persia and England. England required no longer the friendship of -the Shah, and she therefore turned us over to the Governor of India, for -which she duly received our maledictions; and every one who knew upon -what a footing of intimacy the two nations had stood, said, as he spat -upon the ground, "Pooh! may their house be ruined!" She left our country -to be conquered, our finest provinces to be taken from us, and never -once put her hand out to help us. - -However, _Allah buzurg est!_--God is great! we soon found that the good -fortune of the king of kings had not forsaken him. Rumours began to be -spread abroad that affairs in England were in a bad way. Many foreigners -had enlisted themselves in the Shah's troops, and from them we learned -that, no doubt, ere long that country must be entirely ruined, for great -dangers threatened their present king. He was said to have got into the -possession of a certain rebellious tribe, whose ultimate aim was to set -up a new sovereign, called 'People Shah,' and to depose him and his -dynasty. We heard that great poverty reigned in that land, which I had -known so rich and prosperous; and that every department in the state had -been so reduced, that the king had not a house to live in, but that the -nation was quarrelling about the expense of building him one. - -We still had an English _elchi_ at our court, but he enjoyed little -or no consideration; and the news of the poverty of his country was -confirmed to us by what we learnt from his secretaries. Orders, it -seems, had just arrived from his court that every economy should be -observed in his expenses; and one may suppose to what extent, when we -are assured that, by way of saving official ink, it had been strictly -prohibited to put dots to the _I_'s, or strokes to the _T_'s. Presents -of all sorts were done away with:--the ambassador would not even -receive the common present of a water-melon, lest he should be obliged -to send one in return; and his whole conduct seemed more directed -by the calculations of debtor and creditor, like a merchant, than by -the intercourse of courtesy which ought to take place between crowned -heads. Some wicked infidels of French would whisper abroad, that kings -in Europe, like Saadi at Tabriz, were now become less than dogs, and -that therefore their representatives had no dignities to represent; -the English _elchi_, however, would not allow this, but gave us other -reasons for the economy practised in his country, stating that, although -every one allowed that such policy was full of mischief, yet that it -was necessary to humour the whim of this People Shah, who aspired to -the crown, and whose despotism was greater than even that of our famous -Nadir Shah. - -When I appeared at the King's Gate, and took my seat among the minor -officers who awaited the presence of the vizier previously to his going -before the Shah, the enemies of England, of whom there were many, would -taunt me with the news spread to her disadvantage, for I was looked upon -as a Frangi myself. - -"After all," said one, "own, O Hajji! that these Ingliz are an unclean -generation; that it is quite time they should eat their handful of -abomination."--"We are tired of always hearing them lauded," said -another. "Praised be the Prophet! that little by little we may also -defile their fathers' graves, and point our fingers at their mothers." - -"Why address me, O little man?" said I. "Am I their father, mother, -brother, or uncle, that you address me?--It was my destiny to go -amongst them; it was my destiny to come back. A fox ds not become a -swine because he gs through the ordure of the sty in search of his -own affairs. Let their houses be bankrupt, let their fathers grill in -Jehanum--what is that to me?" - -"What words are these?" said a third. "Your beard has changed its -colour. What are become of your guns that would reach from Tehran to Kom -placed side by side, or to Ispahan placed lengthwise? Where now are your -ships that spout more fire than Demawand, and your women like houris -that can read and write like men of the law? Formerly there was nothing -in the world like Francs; now you look upon them as dirt." - -Had I persisted in upholding my Ingliz friends, now that the tide had -turned against them, I should have done them no good, and myself harm; -therefore I applied the cotton of deafness to the ear of unwillingness. -Most true, however, it was that they daily lost in public estimation; -and rumours of the approaching downfal of English power and prosperity -came to us from so many quarters, that we could not do otherwise than -believe them. Whenever an Englishman now appeared in the streets, he was -called pig with impunity; and, instead of the bastinado which the man -who so insulted him formerly was wont to get, he now was left to repeat -the insult at his leisure. - -The fact principally urged was, that a disorder had broken out amongst -them, which affected the brain more than any other organ; that it had -taken possession of high and low, rich and poor, master and servant; and -raged with such violence, that it was almost dangerous to go amongst -them, although strangers were said not to catch it. It was neither -cholera, plague, nor heart-ache, and could not be assimilated to any -known disorder in the East. We have no name for it in Persia; in England -it is called _Reform_: and, as it had suddenly attacked the country when -in a state of great health and prosperity, it was supposed that some one -great evil eye had struck it, and that therefore no one could foresee -what might be its mischievous results. - - - CHAPTER II. - -Whilst seated one morning in my room, inspecting my face in my -looking-glass and combing my beard, preparatory to going to the daily -selam before the king, and thanking Allah from the bottom of my heart -for being secure in my mediocrity from all the storms and dangers of -public life, a loud knocking at my gate announced a visiter of no small -importance. My servant, for I kept one, quickly opened it, and I soon -was greeted by the _selam al aikum_ of one of the royal ferashes, who -exclaimed "The Shah wants you." - -So unusual a summons first startled, then alarmed me. A thousand -apprehensions rushed through my mind as quick as lightning, for on such -occasions in Persia one always apprehends--one never hopes. However, -I immediately gave the usual "_Becheshm!_--Upon my eyes be it!" and -prepared to obey his command. "Can I have said '_Belli_' in the wrong -place," thought I, "at the last selam? or did I perchance exclaim -'_Inshallah_--Please God,' instead of saying '_Mashallah_--Praise be to -God'? Allah only knows," thought I, shrugging up my shoulders, "for I am -sure I do not. Whatever has happened, Khoda is merciful!" - -I followed the ferash, but could gain no intelligence from him which -could in the least clear up my doubts. One thing I discovered, which was -that no _felek_, or sticks, had been displayed in the Shah's presence as -preparatory to a bastinado; and so far I felt safe. - -The Shah was seated in the _gulistan_, or rose-garden; the grand vizier -stood before him, as well as Mirza Firooz, my old master. When I -appeared, all my apprehensions vanished, for with a goodnatured voice -the king ordered me to approach. I made my most profound bow, and stood -on the brink of the marble basin without my shs. - -The king said, "_Mashallah!_ the Hajji is still a _khoobjuan_--a fine -youth; he is a good servant." - -Upon hearing these ominous words, I immediately felt that some very -objectionable service was about to be required of me. I answered, - -"May the shadow of the centre of the universe never be less! Whatever -your slave can do, he will by his head and by his eyes." - -After consulting with the grand vizier, who was standing in the -apartment in which the king was seated, his majesty exclaimed, - -"Hajji, we require zeal, activity, and intelligence at your hands. -Matters of high import to the state of Persia demand that one, the -master of wit, the lord of experience, and the ready in eloquence, -should immediately depart from our presence, in order to seek that of -our brother the King of England. You are the man we have selected; you -must be on horseback as soon as a fortunate hour occurs, and make your -way _chappari_--as a courier, to the gate of power in London." - -With my thanks for so high an honour sticking in my throat, I knelt -down, and kissed the ground; but if any one present had been skilful in -detecting the manning of looks, surely he would have read dismay and -disappointment in mine. - -"It is plain," said the Shah, turning towards the vizier and Mirza -Firooz occasionally as he spoke, "from all that has been reported to us, -that England, as it is now, is not that England of whose riches, power, -and prosperity so much has been said. It has had its day. It is falling -fast into decay. Its men are rebellious. Its ancient dynasty ere this -may have been supplanted by another, and its king a houseless wanderer." - -"_Belli! belli!_" said the vizier and Mirza Firooz. - -"In the first place," continued the Shah, "you must acquaint the king, -my brother, if such he still be, that the gate of the palace of the king -of kings is open to all the world; it is an asylum to kings as well -as to beggars; the needy find a roof, and the hungry food. Should the -vicissitudes of life, as we hear they are likely to do, throw him on the -world, tell him he will find a corner to sit in near our threshold; no -one shall molest him. He shall enjoy his own customs, saving, always, -eating the unclean beast; wine shall he have, and he will be allowed -to import his own wives. He may sit on chairs, shave whatever parts -of his body he likes, wear a shawl coat, diamond-beaded daggers, and -gold-headed furniture to his horse. Upon all these different heads make -his mind perfectly easy." - -"Upon my eyes be it!" I exclaimed, with the profoundest respect. - -"In the next place," said the king, "we have long heard that England -possesses a famous general, a long-tried and faithful servant to his -king. If he be a good servant, he will stick by his master in his -distress. You must see him, Hajji, and tell him from the lips of the -king of kings that he will be welcome in Persia; that he will find -protection at our stirrup, and, _Inshallah!_ he will be able to make his -face white before us. Whatever else is necessary to our service will be -explained to you by our grand vizier," said the Shah; and then, after -making me a few more complimentary speeches, I was dismissed. - -When I left the presence, I could not help thinking that the Shah must -be mad to send me upon so long a journey upon so strange an expedition; -and I inferred that there must be something more in it than met the eye. -I was not mistaken. No sooner had the grand vizier been dismissed than -he called me into his _khelvet_, or secret chamber, and there unfolded -to me the true object of my mission. - -"It is plain," said he, with the most unmoved gravity, "that the graves -of these infidels have been defiled, and that ere long there will be -an end of them and their prosperity. We must take advantage of their -distress. Much may be done by wisdom. In the first place, Hajji, we -shall get penknives and broad-cloth for nothing, that is quite clear; -then, spying-glasses and chandeliers, for which they are also famous, -may be had for the asking; and--who knows?--we may obtain the workmen -who manufactured them, and thus rise on the ruins of the infidels. All -this will mainly depend upon your sagacity. Then the Shah, who has -long desired to possess some English slaves in his harem, has thought -that this will be an excellent moment to procure some, and you will be -commissioned to buy as many as you can procure at reasonable prices. -Upon the breaking up of communities at the death of kings and governors, -we have always found, both in Iran and Turkey, that slaves and virgins -were to be bought for almost nothing; and, no doubt, that must be the -case among Francs." - -I was bewildered at all I heard; and thus at once to be transformed from -a mere sitter in a corner to an active agent in a foreign country, made -my liver drop, and turned my face upside down. - -"But, in the name of Allah," said I, "is it quite certain that this ruin -is going on in England? I have not read that wise people rightly, if so -suddenly they can allow themselves to be involved in misery." - -"What words are these?" said the vizier. "Everybody speaks of it as the -only thing certain in the world. Their own _elchi_ here allows it, and -informs everybody that a great change is going to take place in his -government. And is it not plain, that, if under their last government -they have reached the height of prosperity, a change must lead them to -adversity?" - -"We shall see," said I; "at all events, I am the Shah's servant; -whatever he orders I am bound to obey." - -"It is evident the good fortune of that country," exclaimed Mirza -Firooz, who was present also, "has turned ever since it abandoned Persia -to follow its own selfish views. Did I not say so a thousand times to -the ministers of the king of England; but they would not heed me?" - -"Whatever has produced their misfortunes, Allah only knows," said the -grand vizier; "it is as much their duty to submit, as it is ours to take -advantage of them. We must do everything to secure ourselves against -the power of our enemies. You must say to the King of England that the -asylum of the universe is ready to do everything to assist him; and, -as he is a man of the sea, you will just throw out the possibility -of his obtaining a command of the Shah's _grab_ (ship of war) in the -Caspian Sea. As for the famous general of whom the Shah spoke, (may the -holy Prophet take him in his holy keeping!) when once we have obtained -possession of him, _Inshallah!_ not one Russian will we leave on this -side the Caucasus; and it will be well for them if we do not carry our -arms to the very walls of Petersburg." - -To all these instructions all I had to say was, "Yes, upon my eyes be -it!" and when I had fully understood the object of my mission, I took my -departure, in order to make preparations for my journey. - - - - - THE PORTRAIT GALLERY. - -Physiognomy is the most important of all studies. Well versed in this -science, no man will be cursed with a scolding wife, a pilfering -servant, or an imbecile teacher for the offspring of his connubial -felicity. It has ever been my favourite pursuit; and, when a child, I -would not have tossed up with a pieman if he had exhibited a crusty -countenance. Lavater's immortal works are my _vade mecum_, and I have -carefully collected engraved portraits to discover the character of -every individual the limner had painted ere I read their lives. I lately -found that the Marquis of ---- had pursued a similar plan. His splendid -gallery of pictures is well known in all Europe; but his collection -of portraits at his favourite seat in ---- has been seen but by a few -privileged persons, and I, fortunately, was one of the number, having -been taken to his delightful mansion by his librarian, an old college -_chum_. - -Over the entrance of this gallery is an allegorical painting by -Watteau, or Lancret, which my guide explained. On the summit of a rock, -apparently of granite, and older than the Deluge, rose the Temple of -Fame. The paths that led to it, were steep and intricate, difficulties -that were not foreseen by the travellers tempted to thread this -labyrinth by the roseate bowers that formed their entrance, inviting the -weary pilgrim to seek a soft repose in their refreshing shade. But when -he awoke from his peaceful slumber and delicious visions, renovated and -invigorated, to pursue his journey, the scene soon changed; brambles, -bushes, and tangling weeds impeded his path; and, despite the apparent -solidity of the ground he trod, quicksands and moving bogs would often -dishearten the most adventurous. Numerous were the travellers who -strove to ascend the height, but few attained its wished-for summit; -while many of them, overcome with fatigue, and despairing of success, -stopped at some of the houses of reception, bad, good, and indifferent, -that they found on the road-side. - -However, the back part of the acclivity presented a different prospect. -There, the rock formed a terrific precipice, that no one could ascend -by the ordinary means of locomotion. A balloon at that period had not -been invented; yet I beheld a good number of visitors merrily hopping -over the flowery mead that led to the temple, culling posies and running -after butterflies, and in hearty fits of laughter on beholding the poor -pilgarlicks who were puffing and blowing in vain to climb up the other -face of the hill. The success of these fortunate adventurers amazed me, -until my _cicerone_ pointed out to me, a personage fantastically dressed -in the height of fashion, bewhiskered and moustached, hoisting up his -favourite companions with a rope, securely fastened to the brink of the -cliff. This individual, I found, was a brother of the goddess, and his -name was _Effrontus_. His sister had long endeavoured to rid herself of -his importunities, and had frequently complained to Jupiter to send the -knave out of the country; but the fellow had so ingratiated himself at -court,--more especially with the ladies, one of whom, by name _Famosa_, -supported him in all his extravagancies,--that he snapped his fingers at -his sister, and, by means of a latch-key, (forged by Vulcan as a reward -to Mercury for his vigilance over his wife, when he was obliged to be -absent in his workshop,) he could admit his impertinent cronies into -the very _sanctum_ of her abode, where they not only revelled in every -luxury, but actually sent out their scouts and tigers to increase the -obstacles that rendered the roads up the hill more impracticable, and -terrify by alarming reports the timid voyagers who were struggling up -the rugged steep. The contrast between these adventurers was curious. -The creatures of _Effrontus_, whom he had hoisted up, were all clad in -cloth of gold, or in black suits of silk and broadcloth, and some of -them wore large wigs of various forms and dimensions; while the poor -pilgrims were all in tatters, and, to all appearance, not rich enough to -purchase wigs, although they most needed them, as they were nearly all -bald or greyheaded. Howbeit, these fortunate candidates for celebrity -were not always prosperous; for the height they had ascended, swinging -to and fro by the rope of _Effrontus_, like boys bird-nesting in the -Isle of Wight, suspended from the cliff, frequently made them giddy, -and occasioned vertigs and dimness of sight, in consequence of which -they would sometimes fall over the precipice when they fancied they were -roaming about in security, and were dashed to pieces in the very dirty -valley where not long before they had grovelled. - -This allegory appeared to me ingenious; but when my guide opened -the door, and I found myself in a room hung round with portraits of -celebrated physicians, I observed that the painting was most applicable -to the gallery. My companion smiled at my remark, and proceeded to -describe some of the doctors whose likenesses I beheld. He said "This -gentleman, so finically dressed, with powdered curls, Brussels lace -frills and ruffles, was the celebrated DR. DULCET. You may perceive that -a smile of self-complacency plays on his simpering countenance, yet his -brow portrays some anxious cares, arising from inordinate vanity; and -those furrows on the forehead show that, fortunate as he may have been, -ambition would sometimes ruffle his pillow. - -Dulcet was of a low origin, and his education had been much neglected; -however, he possessed a good figure, handsome features, and a tolerable -share of impudence. When an apothecary's apprentice, his advantageous -points had been perceived by a discriminating duchess, who sent him to -Aberdeen to graduate; and shortly after his return, he was introduced -to royalty and fashion. Aware of the fickleness of Fortune, and well -acquainted with the miseries that attend her frowns, he displayed a tact -in courting the beldame's favour that would have done honour to the most -experienced and _canny_ emigrant from the Land of _Cakes_ roving over -the world in search of _bread_. He commenced his career, by courting -the old and the ugly of the fair sex, and devoting his _petits soins_ -soon to all the little urchins whom he was called to attend. Handsome -women he well knew were satiated with adulation, whereas flattery was a -god-send to those ladies who were not so advantageously gifted: these -he complimented on their intellectual superiority, their enlightened -mind, "that in itself contains the living fountains of beauteous and -sublime." Though the object of his attentions never opened a book, -save and excepting the Lady's Magazine, or read any thing but accounts -of fashionable _fracas_, offences, and births, deaths, and marriages -in the newspapers, he would discourse upon literature and arts, bring -them publications as intelligible to them as a Hebrew Talmud, ask their -opinion of every new novel or celebrated painting,--any popular opera -or favourite performer. If the lady had children, the ugliest little -toad was called an angel; and such of the imps who had been favoured by -nature in cross-breeding, he would swear were the image of their mother. -To court the creatures, he constantly gave them sugar-plums (which -afforded the double advantage or ministering to their gluttony and to -his friend the apothecary); while he presented them with _pretty_ little -books of _pictures_, and _nice_ toys. He had, moreover, a happy knack -of squeezing out a sympathetic tear from the corner of his eye whenever -the brat roared from pain or perversity; and on those occasions he would -screw his eyes until the crystal drop was made to fall upon the mother's -alabaster hand. It is needless to add, that the whole _coterie_ rang -with the extreme sensibility, the excellent heart of the dear doctor, -who had saved the darling's life, although nothing had ailed the sweet -pet but an over-stuffing. - -Another quality recommended him to female protection. Husbands and -father she ever considered as intruders in a consultation: he merely -looked upon them as the bankers of the ladies. It is true that, after -a domestic breeze, his visits were sometimes dispensed with for a -short time; but dreadful hysterics, that kept the whole house in an -uproar both night and day, soon brought back the doctor, who was the -only person who knew _my lady's_ constitution, and on these occasions -the lady's lord was too happy to take his hat and seek a refuge at -Crockford's, or some other consolatory refuge from nerves. It was -certainly true that Dulcet had made many important discoveries in the -treatment of ladies' affections. For instance, he had ascertained that -a pair of bays were more effectual in curing spasms, than chestnuts -or greys, unless his patient preferred them. Then, again, he was -convinced that Rundell and Bridge kept better remedies than Savory -and Moore: a box at the Opera was an infallible cure for a headache; -and the air of Brighton was absolutely necessary when its salutary -effects were increased by the breath of Royalty. Cards he looked upon as -indispensable, to prevent ladies from taking laudanum; and a successful -game of _écarté_ was as effectual an opiate, as extract of lettuce,--one -of his most favourite drugs. - -In this career of prosperity, a circumstance arose that for a time -damped his ardour. Dulcet had attended an East-Indian widow, the wealthy -relict of a civil servant of the Company. Her hand and fortune would -have enabled the doctor to throw physic to the dogs, and all the nasty -little brats whom he idolised after it. He had succeeded in becoming a -great favourite. The disconsolate lady could not eat, drink, or sleep, -without giving him his guinea. She scarcely knew at what end she was to -break an egg, or how many grains of salt she could safely put in it, -without his opinion; but, unfortunately, there was a certain colonel, -an old friend of her former husband, who was a constant visitor, and -who seemed to share with her medical attendant the lady's confidence. -Though Dulcet ordered her not to receive visitors when in a nervous -state, somehow or other the colonel had been admitted. On such occasions -he would shake his head in the most sapient manner, and observe that -the pulse was much agitated; but he did not dare forbid these (to him) -dangerous visits, and therefore endeavoured to attain his ends by a -more circuitous route, and gain time until the colonel's departure for -Bengal afforded him the vantage-ground of absence. The widow would -sometimes complain of her moping and lonely life. On these occasions -Dulcet would delicately hint that at some _future period_ a change of -condition might be desirable, and the widow would then sigh deeply, -and perchance shed a few tears, (whether from the recollection -of her dear departed husband, or the idea of the '_future period_' of -this change of condition,--a _futurity_ which was _sine die_,--I cannot -pretend to say); but the doctor strove to impress upon her mind, that -in her _present_ delicate state, the cares of a family, the pangs of -absence, the turmoil of society, would shake her 'too tender frame' to -very atoms, while the slightest shadow of an unkind shade would break -her sensitive heart; whereas a _leetle_ tranquillity would soon restore -her to that society of which she was considered the brightest ornament! -And then the sigh would become still deeper, and the tears would trickle -down her pallid cheek with increased rapidity, until Dulcet actually -fancied that 'the Heaven-moving pearls' were not beaded in sorrow, -but were 'shed from Nature like a kindly shower.' Still he knew the -sex too well, to venture upon so delicate a subject as matrimonial -consolation; and he, with no little reluctance, parted with a few fees -to obtain some intelligence regarding the lady's toilet-thoughts and -conversation with her favourite woman, a certain cunning abigail named -Mercer. Mercer was of course subject to nervous affections, which she -caught from her mistress; and Dulcet was as kind to the maid as to -her lady, well knowing that as no hero is a great man in the eyes of -his valet, no widow was crystalised with her waiting-maid. The visits -of the colonel had not been as frequent as usual; nay, Dulcet fancied -that he was received with some coolness, and on this important matter -Mercer was prudently consulted. The result of the conference fully -confirmed the doctor's fondest hopes; for he learnt from Mercer that -'her missus liked him above all and was never by no means half as fond -of the colonel, as she knew for certain that those soldier-officers -were not better than they ought to be, and there were red-rags on every -bush.' This communication, although made with cockney vulgarity, had a -more powerful effect upon the doctor than had he heard Demosthenes or -Cicero; and he could have embraced the girl with delight and gratitude -had he dared it,--but she was handsomer than her mistress; he, moreover, -fancied that such a condescension might tempt the girl's vanity to -boast of the favour; but he gave her something more substantial than a -kiss,--a diamond ring that graced his little finger, and which he always -displayed to advantage when feeling a tender pulse. - -Dulcet now altered his plan of campaign, redoubled his assiduity, -assured the widow that she was fast recovering her pristine strength -and healthy glow, and recommended her to shorten the 'futurity of the -period' he had alluded to; assuring her that _now_ the cares of a -family would give her occupation, and society once more would hail her -presence with delight. In her sweet smiles of satisfaction he read his -future bliss and independence. The colonel never came to the house; and, -one day, our doctor was on the point of declaring the purity and the -warmth of his affection, when the widow rendered the avowal needless, -informing him that she had resolved to follow his _kind advice_, and -that the ensuing week she was to be married to THE COLONEL, who had -gone down into the country to regulate his affairs. The blow fell upon -Dulcet like an apoplexy. Prudence made him conceal the bitterness of -his disappointment, and even induced him to be present at the wedding -breakfast; though his appetite was doubly impaired when he found that -Miss Mercer had married the colonel's valet, and he beheld his diamond -guarding her wedding-ring, while an ironical smile showed him, what -little faith was to be reposed in ladies' women. - -The report of this adventure entertained the town for nine days; but -on the tenth, through the patronage of his protectresses, Dulcet was -dubbed a knight, and soon after married a cheesemonger's daughter, ugly -enough to have a hereditary claim to virtue; but who possessed an ample -fortune, and was most anxious to become a lady. - -The librarian was proceeding to give me an account of the next -personage, a Dr. Cleaver, when the bell rung for dinner, and we -adjourned our illustrations until the following morning. V. - - - - - THE SORROWS OF LIFE. - - Who would recal departed days and years - To tread again the dark and cheerless road, - Which, leading through this gloomy vale of tears, - His weary feet in pain and toil have trod! - I've felt the bitterness of grief--I've shed - Such tears as only wretched mortals pour, - And wish'd among the calm and quiet dead - To find my sorrows and my sufferings o'er; - Yet firm in heart and hope I still bear up, - And onward steer my course true--a true "Flare-up". - SIGMA. - - - - - STRAY CHAPTERS. - BY "BOZ." - - - CHAPTER I. - - THE PANTOMIME OF LIFE. - -Before we plunge headlong into this paper, let us at once confess -to a fondness for pantomimes--to a gentle sympathy with clowns -and pantaloons--to an unqualified admiration of harlequins and -columbines--to a chaste delight in every action of their brief -existence, varied and many-coloured as those actions are, and -inconsistent though they occasionally be with those rigid and formal -rules of propriety which regulate the proceedings of meaner and less -comprehensive minds. We revel in pantomimes--not because they dazzle -one's eyes with tinsel and gold leaf; not because they present to us, -once again, the well-beloved chalked faces, and goggle eyes of our -childhood; not even because, like Christmas-day, and Twelfth-night, -and Shrove Tuesday, and one's own birth-day, they come to us but once -a-year;--our attachment is founded on a graver and a very different -reason. A pantomime is to us, a mirror of life; nay more, we maintain -that it is so to audiences generally, although they are not aware of it; -and that this very circumstance is the secret cause of their amusement -and delight. - -Let us take a slight example. The scene is a street: an elderly -gentleman, with a large face, and strongly marked features, appears. -His countenance beams with a sunny smile, and a perpetual dimple is -on his broad red cheek. He is evidently an opulent elderly gentlemen, -comfortable in circumstances, and well to do in the world. He is not -unmindful of the adornment of his person, for he is richly, not to say -gaudily dressed; and that he indulges to a reasonable extent in the -pleasures of the table, may be inferred from the joyous and oily manner -in which he rubs his stomach, by way of informing the audience that he -is going home to dinner. In the fullness of his heart, in the fancied -security of wealth, in the possession and enjoyment of all the good -things of life, the elderly gentleman suddenly loses his footing, and -stumbles. How the audience roar! He is set upon by a noisy and officious -crowd, who buffet and cuff him unmercifully. They scream with delight! -Every time the elderly gentleman struggles to get up, his relentless -persecutors knock him down again. The spectators are convulsed with -merriment! And when at last the elderly gentleman ds get up, and -staggers away, despoiled of hat, wig, and clothing, battered to pieces, -and his watch and money gone, they are exhausted with laughter, and -express their merriment and admiration in rounds of applause. - -Is this like life? Change the scene to any real street;--to the Stock -Exchange, or the City banker's; the merchant's counting-house, or even -the tradesman's shop. See any one of these men fall,--the more suddenly, -and the nearer the zenith of his pride and riches, the better. What a -wild hallo is raised over his prostrate carcase by the shouting mob; how -they whoop and yell as he lies humbled beneath them! Mark how eagerly -they set upon him when he is down; and how they mock and deride him as -he slinks away. Why, it is the pantomime to the very letter. - -Of all the pantomimic _dramatis personæ_, we consider the pantaloon -the most worthless and debauched. Independent of the dislike, one -naturally feels at seeing a gentleman of his years engaged in pursuits -highly unbecoming his gravity and time of life, we cannot conceal from -ourselves the fact that he is a treacherous worldly-minded old villain, -constantly enticing his younger companion, the clown, into acts of fraud -or petty larceny, and generally standing aside to watch the result of -the enterprise: if it be successful, he never forgets to return for his -share of the spoil; but if it turn out a failure, he generally retires -with remarkable caution and expedition, and keeps carefully aloof until -the affair has blown over. His amorous propensities, too, are eminently -disagreeable; and his mode of addressing ladies in the open street at -noon-day is downright improper, being usually neither more nor less -than a perceptible tickling of the aforesaid ladies in the waist, after -committing which, he starts back, manifestly ashamed (as well he may be) -of his own indecorum and temerity; continuing, nevertheless, to ogle and -beckon to them from a distance in a very unpleasant and immoral manner. - -Is there any man who cannot count a dozen pantaloons in his own social -circle? Is there any man who has not seen them swarming at the west end -of the town on a sun-shiny day or a summer's evening, going through -the last-named pantomimic feats with as much liquorish energy, and as -total an absence of reserve, as if they were on the very stage itself? -We can tell upon our fingers a dozen pantaloons of our acquaintance -at this moment--capital pantaloons, who have been performing all -kinds of strange freaks, to the great amusement of their friends and -acquaintance, for years past; and who to this day are making such -comical and ineffectual attempts to be young and dissolute, that all -beholders are like to die with laughter. - -Take that old gentleman who has just emerged from the _Café de l'Europe_ -in the Haymarket, where he has been dining at the expense of the young -man upon town with whom he shakes hands as they part at the door of the -tavern. The affected warmth of that shake of the hand, the courteous -nod, the obvious recollection of the dinner, the savoury flavour of -which still hangs upon his lips, are all characteristics of his great -prototype. He hobbles away humming an opera tune, and twirling his -cane to and fro, with affected carelessness. Suddenly he stops--'tis -at the milliner's window. He peeps through one of the large panes of -glass; and, his view of the ladies within being obstructed by the India -shawls, directs his attentions to the young girl with the bandbox in her -hand, who is gazing in at the window also. See! he draws beside her. He -coughs; she turns away from him. He draws near her again; she disregards -him. He gleefully chucks her under the chin, and, retreating a few -steps, nods and beckons with fantastic grimaces, while the girl bestows -a contemptuous and supercilious look upon his wrinkled visage. She -turns away with a flounce, and the old gentleman trots after her with a -toothless chuckle. The pantaloon to the life! - -But the close resemblance which the clowns of the stage bear to those -of every-day life, is perfectly extraordinary. Some people talk with a -sigh of the decline of pantomime, and murmur in low and dismal tones the -name of Grimaldi. We mean no disparagement to the worthy and excellent -old man when we say, that this is downright nonsense. Clowns that -beat Grimaldi all to nothing turn up every day, and nobody patronises -them--more's the pity! - -"I know who you mean," says some dirty-faced patron of Mr. -Osbaldistone's, laying down the Miscellany when he has got thus far; -and bestowing upon vacancy a most knowing glance: "you mean C. J. Smith -as did Guy Fawkes, and George Barnwell, at the Garden." The dirty-faced -gentleman has hardly uttered the words when he is interrupted by a -young gentleman in no shirt-collar and a Petersham coat. "No, no," -says the young gentleman; "he means Brown, King, and Gibson, at the -'Delphi." Now, with great deference both to the first-named gentleman -with the dirty face, and the last-named gentleman in the non-existing -shirt-collar, we do not mean, either the performer who so grotesquely -burlesqued the Popish conspirator, or the three unchangeables who have -been dancing the same dance under different imposing titles, and doing -the same thing under various high-sounding names, for some five or six -years last past. We have no sooner made this avowal than the public, -who have hitherto been silent witnesses of the dispute, inquire what on -earth it is we _do_ mean; and, with becoming respect, we proceed to tell -them. - -It is very well known to all play-grs and pantomime-seers, that the -scenes in which a theatrical clown is at the very height of his glory -are those which are described in the play-bills as "Cheesemonger's -shop, and Crockery warehouse," or "Tailor's shop, and Mrs. Queertable's -boarding-house," or places bearing some such title, where the great -fun of the thing consists in the hero's taking lodgings which he has -not the slightest intention of paying for, or obtaining goods under -false pretences, or abstracting the stock-in-trade of the respectable -shopkeeper next door, or robbing warehouse-porters as they pass under -his window, or, to shorten the catalogue, in his swindling everybody he -possibly can; it only remaining to be observed, that the more extensive -the swindling is, and the more barefaced the impudence of the swindler, -the greater the rapture and ecstasy of the audience. Now it is a most -remarkable fact that precisely this sort of thing occurs in real life -day after day, and nobody sees the humour of it. Let us illustrate our -position by detailing the plot of this portion of the pantomime--not of -the theatre, but of life. - -The Honourable Captain Fitz-Whisker Fiercy, attended by his -livery-servant Do'em,--a most respectable servant to look at, who has -grown grey in the service of the captain's family,--views, treats for, -and ultimately obtains possession of, the unfurnished house, such a -number, such a street. All the tradesmen in the neighbourhood are in -agonies of competition for the captain's custom; the captain is a -good-natured, kind-hearted, easy man, and, to avoid being the cause of -disappointment to any, he most handsomely gives orders to all. Hampers -of wine, baskets of provisions, cart-loads of furniture, boxes of -jewellery, supplies of luxuries of the costliest description, flock -to the house of the Honourable Captain Fitz-Whisker Fiercy, where -they are received with the utmost readiness by the highly respectable -Do'em; while the captain himself struts and swaggers about with that -compound air of conscious superiority, and general blood-thirstiness, -which a military captain should always, and ds most times wear, to -the admiration and terror of plebeian men. But the tradesmen's backs -are no sooner turned, than the captain, with all the eccentricity of a -mighty mind, and assisted by the faithful Do'em, whose devoted fidelity -is not the least touching part of his character, disposes of everything -to great advantage; for, although the articles fetch small sums, still -they are sold considerably above cost price, the cost to the captain -having been nothing at all. After various manoeuvres, the imposture is -discovered, Fitz-Fiercy and Do'em are recognised as confederates, and -the police-office to which they are both taken is thronged with their -dupes. - -Who can fail to recognise in this, the exact counterpart of the best -portion of a theatrical pantomime--Fitz-Whisker Fiercy by the clown; -Do'em by the pantaloon; and supernumeraries by the tradesmen? The best -of the joke, too, is that the very coal-merchant who is loudest in his -complaints against the person who defrauded him, is the identical man -who sat in the centre of the very front row of the pit last night and -laughed the most boisterously at this very same thing,--and not so well -done either. Talk of Grimaldi, we say again! Did Grimaldi, in his best -days, ever do anything in this way equal to Da Costa? - -The mention of this latter justly-celebrated clown reminds us of his -last piece of humour, the fraudulently obtaining certain stamped -acceptances from a young gentleman in the army. We had scarcely laid -down our pen to contemplate for a few moments this admirable actor's -performance of that exquisite practical joke, than a new branch of our -subject flashed suddenly upon us. So we take it up again at once. - -All people who have been behind the scenes, and most people who have -been before them, know, that in the representation of a pantomime, a -good many men are sent upon the stage for the express purpose of being -cheated, or knocked down, or both. Now, down to a moment ago, we had -never been able to understand for what possible purpose a great number -of odd, lazy, large-headed men, whom one is in the habit of meeting -here, and there, and everywhere, could ever have been created. We see it -all, now. They are the supernumeraries in the pantomime of life; the men -who have been thrust into it, with no other view than to be constantly -tumbling over each other, and running their heads against all sorts of -strange things. We sat opposite to one of these men at a supper-table, -only last week. Now we think of it, he was exactly like the gentlemen -with the pasteboard heads and faces, who do the corresponding business -in the theatrical pantomimes; there was the same broad stolid -simper--the same dull leaden eye--the same unmeaning, vacant stare; and -whatever was said, or whatever was done, he always came in at precisely -the wrong place, or jostled against something that he had not the -slightest business with. We looked at the man across the table, again -and again; and could not satisfy ourselves what race of beings to class -him with. How very odd that this never occurred to us before! - -We will frankly own that we have been much troubled with the harlequin. -We see harlequins of so many kinds in the real living pantomime, that we -hardly know which to select as the proper fellow of him of the theatres. -At one time we were disposed to think that the harlequin was neither -more nor less than a young man of family and independent property, who -had run away with an opera-dancer, and was fooling his life and his -means away in light and trivial amusements. On reflection, however, -we remembered that harlequins are occasionally guilty of witty, and -even clever acts, and we are rather disposed to acquit our young men -of family and independent property, generally speaking, of any such -misdemeanours. On a more mature consideration of the subject, we have -arrived at the conclusion, that the harlequins of life are just ordinary -men, to be found in no particular walk or degree, on whom a certain -station, or particular conjunction of circumstances, confers the magic -wand; and this brings us to a few words on the pantomime of public and -political life, which we shall say at once, and then conclude; merely -premising in this place, that we decline any reference whatever to the -columbine: being in no wise satisfied of the nature of her connexion -with her parti-coloured lover, and not feeling by any means clear -that we should be justified in introducing her to the virtuous and -respectable ladies who peruse our lucubrations. - -We take it that the commencement of a session of parliament is neither -more nor less than the drawing up of the curtain for a grand comic -pantomime; and that his Majesty's most gracious speech, on the opening -thereof, may be not inaptly compared to the clown's opening speech of -"Here we are!" "My lords and gentlemen, here we are!" appears, to our -mind at least, to be a very good abstract of the point and meaning -of the propitiatory address of the ministry. When we remember how -frequently this speech is made, immediately after the _change_ too, the -parallel is quite perfect, and still more singular. - -Perhaps the cast of our political pantomime never was richer than at -this day. We are particularly strong in clowns. At no former time, we -should say, have we had such astonishing tumblers, or performers so -ready to go through the whole of their feats for the amusement of an -admiring throng. Their extreme readiness to exhibit, indeed, has given -rise to some ill-natured reflections; it having been objected that by -exhibiting gratuitously through the country when the theatre is closed, -they reduce themselves to the level of mountebanks, and thereby tend to -degrade the respectability of the profession. Certainly Grimaldi never -did this sort of thing; and though Brown, King, and Gibson have gone -to the Surrey in vacation time, and Mr. C. J. Smith has ruralised at -Sadler's Wells, we find no theatrical precedent for a general tumbling -through the country, except in the gentleman, name unknown, who threw -summersets on behalf of the late Mr. Richardson, and who is no authority -either, because he had never been on the regular boards. - -But, laying aside this question, which after all is a mere matter of -taste, we may reflect with pride and gratification of heart on the -proficiency of our clowns as exhibited in the season. Night after night -will they twist and tumble about, till two, three, and four o'clock -in the morning; playing the strangest antics, and giving each other -the funniest slaps on the face that can possibly be imagined, without -evincing the smallest tokens of fatigue. The strange noises, the -confusion, the shouting and roaring, amid which all this is done, too, -would put to shame the most turbulent sixpenny gallery that ever yelled -through a boxing-night. - -It is especially curious to behold one of these clowns compelled to go -through the most surprising contortions by the irresistible influence of -the wand of office, which his leader or harlequin holds above his head. -Acted upon by this wonderful charm he will become perfectly motionless, -moving neither hand, foot, nor finger, and will even lose the faculty -of speech at an instant's notice; or, on the other hand, he will become -all life and animation if required, pouring forth a torrent of words -without sense or meaning, throwing himself into the wildest and most -fantastic contortions, and even grovelling on the earth and licking up -the dust. These exhibitions are more curious than pleasing; indeed they -are rather disgusting than otherwise, except to the admirers of such -things, with whom we confess we have no fellow-feeling. - -Strange tricks--very strange tricks--are also performed by the harlequin -who holds for the time being, the magic wand which we have just -mentioned. The mere waving it before a man's eyes will dispossess his -brain of all the notions previously stored there, and fill it with an -entirely new set of ideas; one gentle tap on the back will alter the -colour of a man's coat completely; and there are some expert performers, -who, having this wand held first on one side, and then on the other, -will change from side to side, turning their coats at every evolution, -with so much rapidity and dexterity, that the quickest eye can scarcely -detect their motions. Occasionally, the genius who confers the wand, -wrests it from the hand of the temporary possessor, and consigns it to -some new performer; on which occasions all the characters change sides, -and then the race and the hard knocks begin anew. - -We might have extended this chapter to a much greater length--we might -have carried the comparison into the liberal professions--we might have -shown, as was in fact our original purpose, that each is in itself a -little pantomime with scenes and characters of its own, complete; but, -as we fear we have been quite lengthy enough already, we shall leave -this chapter just where it is. A gentleman, not altogether unknown as a -dramatic poet, wrote thus a year or two ago-- - - "All the World's a stage, - And all the men and women merely players;" - -and we, tracking out his footsteps at the scarcely-worth-mentioning -little distance of a few millions of leagues behind, venture to add, -by way of new reading, that he meant a Pantomime, and that we are all -actors in The Pantomime of Life. - - - - - IMPROMPTU. - - Who the _dickens_ "Boz" could be - Puzzled many a learned elf; - Till time unveil'd the mystery, - And _Boz_ appear'd as DICKENS' self! - C. J. DAVIDS. - - - - - MEMOIRS OF SAMUEL FOOTE. - -Few writers obtained a larger share of notoriety during their lifetime -than Samuel Foote. If the interest which he excited was not very -profound, it was at any rate very generally diffused throughout the -community. His witty sayings were in every one's mouth; his plays were -the rage of the day; he was the constant guest of royalty, the Dukes -of York and Cumberland being among his staunchest friends and patrons; -and the "Sir Oracle" of all the _bons vivants_ and would-be wits of -the metropolis. Take up any light memoir of those days, and you shall -scarcely find one that does not bear testimony to the powers of this -incomparable humourist. Yet, what is he now? A name,--perhaps a great -one,--but little more. His plays are seldom acted, though the best Major -Sturgeon and Jerry Sneak that the stage ever had are still among us; -and as seldom perused in the closet, or assuredly they would have been -republished oftener than has been the case of late years. - -We are induced, therefore, to give a brief memoir of our English -Aristophanes, accompanied by as brief a criticism on his genius, such a -task falling naturally, indeed almost necessarily, within the scope of -our Miscellany. But enough of preface: "now to business," as Foote's own -Vamp would say. - -Samuel Foote was born at Truro in the year 1720. His family was of -credible extraction, his father being a gentleman of some repute in -Cornwall as receiver of fines for the duchy; and his mother, the -daughter of Sir Edward Goodere, Bart. M.P. for Herefordshire. From -this lady, whom he closely resembled in appearance and manner, he is -supposed to have inherited that turn for "merry malice" for which he -was famous above all his contemporaries. Mr. Cooke, in his notices of -Foote, describes his mother as having been "the very model of her son -Samuel,--short, fat, and flabby," and nearly equally remarkable for the -broad humour of her conversation. - -At an early age, young Foote was despatched to a school at Worcester, -where he soon became notorious for his practical jokes and inveterate -propensity to caricature. He was the leader in all the rebellions of the -boys, and perpetrated much small mischief on his own private account. -Among other of his freaks, it is stated that he was in the habit of -anointing his master's lips with ink while he slept in the chair of -authority, and then bewildering and overwhelming the good man with a -host of grave apologies. Yet, with all this, he was attentive to his -studies, reading hard by fits and starts; and left Worcester with the -reputation of being that very ambiguous character--a "lad of parts." - - [Illustration: SAMUEL FOOTE] - -At the usual period of life, Foote was entered of Worcester College, -Oxford, where, as at school, his favourite amusement consisted in -quizzing the authorities,--more especially the provost, who was a grave, -pedantic scholar, of a vinegar turn of temperament. The following hoax -is recorded as having been played off by him in his Freshman's year. In -one of the villages near Oxford there was a church that stood close by -a shady lane, through which cattle were in the habit of being driven to -and fro from grass. From the steeple or belfry of this church dangled -a rope, probably for the convenience of the ringers, which overhung -the porch, and descended to within a few feet of the ground. Foote, -who chanced to see it in the course of one of his rambles, resolved to -make it the subject of a practical joke; and accordingly, one night, -just as the cattle were passing down the lane, tied a wisp of fresh -hay tightly about the rope by way of bait. The scheme succeeded to a -miracle. One of the cows, as she passed the church-porch, attracted by -the fragrant smell of the fodder, stopped to nibble at, and tear it -away from the rope; and by so doing set the bell tolling, infinitely -to the astonishment and perplexity of the village authorities, who -did not detect the hoax, which was repeated more than once, till the -circumstance had become the talk of the neighbourhood for miles round. -We do not vouch for the authenticity of this anecdote, though more than -one biographer has alluded to it; but, as it is highly characteristic of -Foote, we think it not unlikely to be true. - -On quitting the university, Foote returned for a few months to his -father's house at Truro, at which period it was that a frightful tragedy -occurred in his family, which he seldom spoke of afterwards, and never -without the deepest emotion. We allude to the murder of his uncle Sir -John Goodere, by the baronet's brother Captain Goodere, which took -place about the year 1740. The parties had been dining together at a -friend's house near Bristol; apparently a reconciliation--for they -had been for some time on bad terms with each other, owing to certain -money transactions--had been agreed to between them; but, on his return -home, Sir John was waylaid, by his brother's orders, by the crew of his -vessel, which lay at anchor in the roads; carried on board, and there -strangled; the assassin looking on the while, and actually furnishing -the rope by which the murder was perpetrated. For this atrocious deed, -the Captain and his confederates, who, it appears, made no attempt at -concealment, were tried at the Bristol assizes, found guilty, and hanged. - -But the strangest part of this strange story remains to be told. On the -night the murder was committed, Foote arrived at his father's house at -Truro, and describes himself as having been kept awake for some time by -the softest and sweetest strains of music he had ever heard. At first -he imagined that it was a serenade got up by some of the family, by way -of a welcome home; but, on looking out of his windows, could see no -trace of the musicians, so was compelled to come to the conclusion that -the sounds were the mere offspring of his imagination. When, however, -he learned shortly afterwards that the catastrophe to which we have -alluded, had occurred on the same night, and at the same hour when he -had been greeted by the mysterious melody, he became, says one of his -biographers, persuaded that it was a supernatural warning, and retained -this impression to the last moment of his existence. Yet the man who -was thus strongly susceptible of superstitious influences, and who -could mistake a singing in the head, occasioned possibly by convivial -indulgence, for a hint direct from heaven, was the same who overwhelmed -Johnson with ridicule for believing in the Cock-lane ghost! - -At the age of twenty-two, shortly after he had quitted Oxford, Foote -entered the Temple; rented an expensive set of chambers; sported a -dashing equipage; gave constant convivial parties; gambled--betted--aped -the man of fashion and of title--in a word, distinguished himself as -one of the most exquisite fops about town. In those days the fop was -quite a different sort of person from what he is now. He was a wit, -and very frequently a scholar; whereas he is now, in the majority of -instances,--to quote Swift's pungent sarcasm,--"a mere peg whereon -to hang a trim suit of clothes." The last legitimate fop, or dandy, -vanished from the scene of gay life with Brummell. He was the _Ultimus -Romanorum_. - -One of Foote's most frequent places of resort was the Bedford -Coffee-house, then the favourite lounge of all the aspiring wits of the -day. Here Fielding, Beauclerk, Bonnell Thornton, and a host of kindred -spirits, used to lay down the law to their consenting audience; and here -too many of those verdicts issued which stamped the character of the -"last new piece." Such desultory habits of life--to say nothing of his -inveterate propensity to gambling--soon dissipated the handsome fortune -which Foote had acquired by his father's death; and, at the end of three -years, he was compelled to quit the law, and resort to some other means -of gaining a livelihood. - -From a young and enthusiastic amateur of the stage to a performer on its -boards, is no unnatural transition; and we find Foote, somewhere about -the year 1743, associated with his friend Macklin in the management of -a wooden theatre in the Haymarket. Having a lofty notion of his tragic -capabilities, he made his _debut_ in the character of Othello; and, -like Mathews, Liston, and Keeley, who began their theatrical career in -the same mistaken spirit, convulsed the audience with the grotesque -extravagance of his passion, and the irresistible drollery of his -pathos. Finding therefore that his forte did not lie in tragedy, he -next had recourse to comedy, and made a tolerable hit at Drury-lane -in the parts of Sir Paul Pliant, Bayes, and Fondlewife. We have seen -a portrait of him in this last character,--one of Congreve's earliest -and raciest,--and, if it be at all like him, we do not wonder at his -success, for his countenance is replete with the true sly, oily, -hypocritical expression. - -In the ear 1747, Foote produced his first piece at the Haymarket, in -which he mimicked the peculiarities of several well-known actors, and, -among others, Macklin. The play was successful; but its performance -having been interdicted by the Westminster magistrates, Foote brought -it out in a new form, under the title of "Diversions of the Morning," -and issued cards of invitation to the public, requesting the honour of -their company to a tea-party (at playhouse prices) at the Haymarket. -The experiment was a decided hit, and was followed up next season by an -"Auction of Pictures," in which the author lashed with pitiless ridicule -the Virtuoso follies of the day. - -Foote was now once again in possession of a handsome competency, for, in -addition to the money made by his labours as an author and an actor, an -unexpected legacy was left him by some branch of his mother's family. -Intoxicated by his good fortune, and unwarned by experience, he resumed -his old habits of extravagance; but, finding that his funds did not -disappear fast enough, he accelerated their diminution by a trip to -Paris, where he remained two or three years, and did not return home -until he found himself, as before, reduced to his last shilling. - -Immediately on his arrival in London, Foote renewed his engagement at -Drury-lane, and performed the principal character in his own play of -"The Knights;" but this proving less attractive than the two former -ones, he abruptly quitted town, and crossed the channel to Dublin, -where, in the year 1760, he brought out at the Crowstreet theatre his -celebrated comedy, "The Minor." This, which was then a mere crude sketch -in two acts, was unequivocally damned; but the circumstance, so far from -depressing the author's spirits, only stimulated him to fresh exertions, -and after mercifully revising the play, and adding a third act, he -produced it at the Haymarket. His industry did not go unrewarded. The -success of the comedy equalled his most sanguine expectations, being -played without intermission throughout the season, to houses crammed to -the very ceiling. - -It is a singular fact connected with this piquant play, that its -author, doubtful of its reception, sent it in MS. to the Archbishop of -Canterbury, with a request that, if he found any objectionable passages, -he would do him the favour to expunge them. Of course, his Grace -declined all interference with such a heterodox production, observing to -a friend, that if he had made the slightest alteration, the wag might -possibly have published it, as "corrected and prepared for the press by -the Archbishop of Canterbury!" This is as good a story as that told of -Shelley, who is said to have sent a copy of his "Queen Mab" to each of -the twenty-four bishops. The part which Foote played in the "Minor" was -that of the notorious Mother Cole; and the Parson Squintem, to whom this -exemplary specimen of womankind--as Jonathan Oldbuck would say--makes -such repeated allusions, is supposed to have been the celebrated -Whitfield. - -"The Minor" was followed in 1762 by "The Liar," which was brought out -at Covent Garden. This drama, the idea of which is borrowed from the -"Menteur" of Corneille, brought full houses for the season; and was -succeeded in the same year by the "Orators,"--an amusing play, but by -no means one of its author's best,--in which he ridiculed Falkner, -the printer of the Dublin Journal, and for which he got entangled in -a tedious law-suit that was not compromised without difficulty. About -this time, too, Foote, according to Boswell, announced his intention -of bringing Dr. Johnson on the stage; but the threat of a public -chastisement, with which "Surly Sam" threatened him, induced him to -abandon his intention. "What is the price of a good thick stick?" -said the Doctor on this remarkable occasion. "A shilling," replied -the individual to whom he put the question. "Then go, and buy me a -half-crown one; for if that rascal, Foote, persists in his attempt to -mimic me, I will step from the boxes, thrash him publicly before the -audience, and then make them a speech in justification of my conduct." -It is almost to be regretted that the satirist gave up his design, for a -capital Philippic has been thereby lost to the world. - -From this period Foote chiefly confined himself to the Haymarket, -where appeared in succession his "Mayor of Garratt," "Patron," and -"Commissary." The first, which was founded on the whimsical custom, -now discontinued, of choosing a mock M.P. for the village of Garratt -in Surrey, is a laughable hit at the warlike propensities of cockney -volunteers. After some years' neglect, it was revived with success -during the height of the anti-Jacobin phrensy, when Major Sturgeons -again sprung up as plentiful as mushrooms,--when every tailor strutted a -hero, and every Alderman felt himself a William Tell. - -Foote was now afloat on the full tide of prosperity, drawing crowded -houses whenever he performed; patronised by the nobility, at whose -tables he was a sort of privileged guest; and everywhere acknowledged as -the great lion of the day. In the year 1766, when on a visit with the -Duke of York at Lord Mexborough's, he had the misfortune to break his -leg by a fall from his horse in hunting. A silly peer condoling with him -shortly afterwards on this accident, the wag replied, "Pray, my lord, do -not allude to my weak point, I have not alluded to yours," at the same -time pointing significantly to the nobleman's head. - -By this misfortune Foote was withdrawn some months from his profession, -but on his recovery he purchased the Haymarket, and opened it with an -extravaganza entitled "The Tailors, or a Tragedy for Warm Weather." The -next year appeared his "Devil on Two Sticks," the machinery of which -is derived from the "Diable Boiteux" of Le Sage. This play, which was -a severe satire on those medical quacks who then, as now, infested the -metropolis, was so popular, that its author cleared upwards of three -thousand pounds by it, but, a few weeks after, lost it all by gambling -at Bath. - -Foote's next production was the "Maid of Bath", which was performed -in the year 1771. The principal characters in this comedy--Flint, the -avaricious old bachelor, and Miss Linnet, the vocalist to whom he is -represented as paying his addresses,--were portraits from life; the -former having been intended for Walter Long, a rich Somersetshire -squire, who died in 1807 at the age of ninety-five, leaving property to -the amount of a quarter of a million sterling to Miss Tilney Long, who -married the present Mr. Wellesley; and the latter for the beautiful Miss -Linley, afterwards Mrs. Sheridan. The "Maid of Bath" is a lively play, -containing one or two terse, brilliant witticisms worthy of Congreve; -such, for instance as the definition of marriage,--that it is like -"bobbing for a single eel in a barrel of snakes." Its best-sustained -character is that of Flint; in sketching which, Foote had evidently in -view the Athenian miser alluded to by Horace, for he makes him say, "Ay, -you may rail, and the people may hiss; but what care I? I have that at -home which will keep up my spirits,"--which is a manifest paraphrase from - - ----"Populus me sibilat; at mihi plaudo - Ipse domi, simul ac nummos contemplor in arcâ." - -This comedy is further deserving of notice, as showing the exquisite -tact and readiness with which Foote availed himself of the floating -topics of the day. At the time it appeared, the town was greatly -diverted by a squabble between Wilkes and the notorious political parson -John Horne, afterwards Horne Tooke, the latter of whom accused the -former of having sold some rich court-dresses which he had entrusted -to his care at Paris. In allusion to this amusing quarrel, Flint says, -speaking of the clergyman whom he has engaged to marry him to Miss -Linnet, "You have seen friend Button, the Minister that has come down to -tack us together; he don't care much to meddle with the pulpit, but he -is a prodigious patriot, and a great politician to boot; and, moreover, -he has left behind him at Paris a choice collection of curious rich -clothes, which he has promised to sell me cheap." - -The "Maid of Bath" was followed by the "Nabob" and the "Bankrupt," the -first of which was an effective attack on the habits of many of those -old curmudgeons who, about the middle of the last century--the period -of Anglo-Indian prosperity--returned with dried livers from the East, -rich as Chartres, and equally profligate; and the last, on the crazy -commercial speculations of the day. The sketch of Sir Robert Riscounter -in the "Bankrupt" is supposed to have been meant for the well-known Sir -George Fordyce, who failed, in the year 1772, for an almost unparalleled -amount. Of these two plays, the "Nabob" is the most carefully finished; -but its breadth and grossness must ever prevent its revival. - -In 1774 came out the "Cozeners," a pungent satire on the venal -politicians of the day. The corruption which had been sanctioned and -made systematic by Walpole and the Pelhams, was then in the full vigour -of its rank luxuriance; every man had his price; never therefore was -satire better applied than this of Foote's. The "Mrs. Fleec'em" of the -"Cozeners," a lady of accommodating virtue, and somewhat relaxed in -her notions of _meum_ and _tuum_, was intended for the notorious Mrs. -Catherine Rudd, who, after inducing the two brothers (Perreau) to commit -forgery, gave evidence against them, on the strength of which they were -hanged. Yet this creature, tainted as she was with the foulest moral -leprosy, was admitted into the best society, and died at a good old age -with the character of a discreet, respectable matron! - -We come now to Foote's last production. In the year 1775, the famous -Duchess of Kingston was tried before the House of Lords for bigamy, and -found guilty. Her case excited extraordinary interest throughout the -country; availing himself of which, Foote introduced her in the "Trip to -Calais" under the character of Lady Kitty Crocodile, which coming to her -Grace's ears, she procured its prohibition by the Lord Chamberlain, and, -not content with this measure of retaliation, got up through her minions -of the press, of whom she had numbers in her pay, a charge against -Foote of a most odious complexion,--so odious, indeed, that he had no -alternative but to demand an instant public trial, which ended, as might -have been anticipated, in his triumphant acquittal. But this result, -satisfactory as it was, had no power to restore him to his wonted peace -of mind. The dagger had struck home to the heart. His friends, too, for -the first time, began to look coolly on him; the anonymous agents of the -Duchess still pursued him with unrelenting acrimony; many of those whose -follies and crimes he had lashed, but who had feared to retort in his -hour of pride, swelled the clamour against him; and he found himself, in -the decline of health and manhood, becoming just as unpopular as he once -was the reverse. In vain he endeavoured to rally and make head against -this combination; his moral fortitude wholly deserted him; and after -performing a few times, after his trial, at the Haymarket, but with none -of his former vivacity, he was seized with a sudden paralytic affection, -and bade adieu to the stage for ever. - -About six months subsequent to his retirement, he was attacked by a -complaint which ultimately terminated his life; and, by his physician's -order, quitted London for the Continent, with a view to pass the winter -at Paris. But his constitution was too much shattered to admit of the -fatigue of such a journey, and he was compelled to halt at Dover, where, -on the morning after his arrival, a violent shivering fit came over him -while seated at the breakfast table, which in a few hours put an end to -his existence. No sooner was his death known in the metropolis, than a -re-action commenced in his favour. It was then discovered that, with all -his errors, he had been "more sinned against than sinning;" and some of -his friends even went the length of proposing the erection of a monument -to his memory! Just in the same way, a few years later, was Burns -treated by the world. He, too, was alternately caressed and vilified; -and finally hurried to a premature grave, the victim of a broken heart. -But this is the penalty that superior genius must ever be prepared to -pay. It walks alone along a dizzy, dangerous height, the observed of all -eyes; while gregarious common-place treads, secure and unnoticed, along -the tame, flat "Bedford level" of ordinary life! - -Having closed our brief memoir of Foote, it remains to say a few words -of his literary peculiarities. His humour was decidedly Aristophanic; -that is to say, broad, easy, reckless, satirical, without the slightest -alloy of _bonhommie_, and full of the directest personalities. There is -no playfulness or good-nature in his comedies. You laugh, it is true, at -his portraits, but at the same time you hold them in contempt; for there -is nothing redeeming in their eccentricities; nothing for your esteem -and admiration to lay hold of. We cannot gather from his writings, -as we can from every page of Goldsmith, that Foote possessed the -slightest sympathies with humanity. He seems everywhere to hold it at -arm's length, as worthy of nought but the must supercilious treatment; -which accounts for, and to a certain extent justifies, the treatment -he received from the world in his latter days. Foote could never have -drawn a "Good-natured Man," or even a "Dennis Brulgruddery;" for, though -he may have possessed the head to do so, yet he lacked the requisite -sensibility. So greatly deficient is he in this respect, that, whenever -he attempts to put forth a refined or generous sentiment, he almost -always overdoes it, and degenerates into cant. Yet his characters--with -the exception of his virtuous and moral ones, which are the most insipid -in the world--are admirably drawn, are sustained with unflagging spirit, -and evince a wide range of observation which, however, rarely pierces -beyond the surface. - -As works of art, Foote's dramas are by no means of first-rate -excellence. They show no fancy, no invention, no ingenuity in -constructing, or tact in developing plot; but are merely a collection -of scenes and incidents huddled confusedly together for the purpose -of drawing out the peculiarities of some two or three pet characters. -The best thing we can say of them is, that they exhibit everywhere the -keenness, the readiness, the self-possession, of the disciplined man -of the world, combined with a pungent malicious humour that reminds -us of a Mephistopheles in his merriest mood. It must also be urged in -their favour, that they are, in every sense of the word, original. -Foote copied no model, but painted direct from the life. He took no -hints from others, but gave his own fresh impressions of character. He -did not draw on his fancy, like Congreve, or study to make points like -Sheridan, but availed himself hastily of such materials as came readiest -to hand. The very extravagances of his early life were in his favour, by -bringing him in contact with those marked, out-of-the-way characters, -who, like Arabs, hang loose on the skirts of society, and constitute the -quintessence of comedy. Thus his inveterate love of gambling furnished -him with his masterly sketch of Dick Loader; and his long-continued -residence at Paris--into whose various dissipations he entered with all -the zeal of a devotee--with his successful hits at the absurdities of -our travelled fops. - -Foote's three best plays are his "Minor," his "Liar," and his "Mayor -of Garratt." Perhaps the last is his masterpiece; for it is alive and -bustling throughout, is finished with more than the author's ordinary -care, and contains two characters penned in his truest _con amore_ -spirit. Jerry Sneak and Major Sturgeon are, in their line, the two most -perfect delineations of which the minor British drama can boast. There -is no mistaking their identity. They speak the genuine, unadulterated -vulgar tongue of the City. Their sentiments are cockney; their meanness -and their bluster, their pompous self-conceit and abject humility, -are cockney; they are cockney all over from the crown of the head -to the sole of the shoe. What a rich set-off to the "marchings and -counter-marchings" of the one, is the other's recital of his domestic -grievances! Jerry's complaint that his wife only allows him "two -shillings for pocket-money," and helps him to "all the cold vittles -at table," is absolutely pathetic, if--as Hazlitt observes--"the last -stage of human imbecility can be called so." While Bow bells ring, and -St. Paul's church overlooks Cheapside, Foote's cockneys shall endure. -Nevertheless, while we acknowledge their excellence, we entertain -the most intense contempt for them, and feel the strongest possible -inclination to fling the Major into a horse-pond, and smother Jerry -Sneak in a basin of water-gruel. - -Foote's conversational abilities were, if possible, superior to his -literary ones. For men of the world, in particular, they must have -had an inexpressible charm. There is no wit on record who has said so -many good things, or with such perfect ease and readiness. Foote never -laid a pun-trap to catch the unwary. He had humour at will, and had -no need to resort to artifice. His mind was well, but not abundantly -stored; and he had the tact to make his knowledge appear greater than -it really was. The most sterling testimony that has been borne to his -colloquial powers, is that furnished by Dr. Johnson, who says, "The -first time I was in company with Foote, was at Fitzherbert's. Having no -good opinion of the fellow, I was resolved not to be pleased; and it -is very difficult to please a man against his will. I went on eating -my dinner pretty sullenly, affecting not to mind him; but the dog was -so very comical, that I was obliged to lay down my knife and fork, -and fairly laugh it out. Sir, he was irresistible." Foote's favourite -butt was Garrick, whose thrifty habits he was constantly turning into -ridicule. Being one day in company with him, when after satirizing -some individual, David had wound up his attack by saying, "Well, well, -perhaps before I condemn another, I should pull the _beam_ out of my own -eye," Foote replied. "And so you would, if you could _sell the timber_." -On another occasion, when they were dining together, Garrick happened -to let a guinea drop on the floor. "Where has it gone to?" asked Foote, -looking about for it. "Oh, to the devil, I suppose," was the reply. -"Ah, David," rejoined his tormentor, "you can always contrive to make a -guinea go farther than any one else." - -Such was Samuel Foote,--the wit, the satirist, the humourist--whose life -inculcates this wholesome truth, that those who set themselves up, with -no superior moral qualifications to recommend them, to ridicule the -follies and lash the vices of the age, but "sow the wind, to reap the -whirlwind!" - - - - - THE TWO BUTLERS. - -In all countries and all languages we have the story of _Il Bondocani_. -May I tell one from Ireland? - -It is now almost a hundred years ago--certainly eighty--since Tom--I -declare to Mnemosyne I forget what his surname was, if I ever knew it, -which I doubt,--It is at least eighty years since Tom emerged from his -master's kitchen in Clonmell, to make his way on a visit to foreign -countries. - -If I can well recollect dates, this event must have occurred at the end -of the days of George the Second, or very close after the accession -of George the Third, because in the course of the narrative it will -be disclosed that the tale runs of a Jacobite lord living quietly in -Ireland, and that I think must have been some time between 1740 and -1760,--or say 65. Just before the year of the young Pretender's burst, -a sharp eye used to be kept upon the "honest men" in all the three -kingdoms; and in Ireland, from the peculiar power which the surveillance -attendant on the penal laws gave the government, this sharp eye could -not be surpassed in sharpness,--that is to say, if it did not choose to -wink. Truth, nevertheless, makes us acknowledge that the authorities of -Ireland were ever inclined at the bottom of their hearts to countenance -lawlessness, if at all recommended by anything like a noble or a -romantic name. And no name could be more renowned or more romantic than -that of Ormond. - -It is to be found in all our histories well recorded. What are the lines -of Dryden?--and Dryden was a man who knew how to make verses worth -reading. - -And the rebel rose stuck to the house of Ormond for many a day;--but it -is useless to say more. Even I who would sing "Lilla bullalero bullen a -la,"--if I could, only I can't sing,--and who give "The glorious, pious, -and immortal memory," because I can toast,--even I do not think wrong of -the house of Ormond for sticking as it did to the house of Stuart. Of -that too I have a long story to tell some time or another. - -Never mind. I was mentioning all this, because I have not a 'Peerage' by -me; and I really do not know who was the Lord Ormond of the day which I -take to be the epoch of my tale. If I had a 'Peerage,' I am sure I could -settle it in a minute; but I have none. Those, therefore, who are most -interested in the affair ought to examine a 'Peerage,' to find who was -the man of the time;--I can only help them by a hint. My own particular -and personal reason for recollecting the matter is this: I am forty, -or more--never mind the quantity more; and I was told the story by my -uncle at least five-and-twenty years ago. That brings us to the year -1812,--say 1811. My uncle--his name was Jack--told me that he had heard -the story from Tom himself fifty years before that. If my uncle Jack, -who was a very good fellow, considerably given to potation, was precise -in his computation of time, the date of his story must have fallen in -1762--or 1763--no matter which. This brings me near the date I have -already assigned; but the reader of my essay has before him the grounds -of my chronological conjectures, and he can form his opinions on _data_ -as sufficiently as myself. - -I recur fearlessly to the fact that Tom--whatever his surname may have -been--emerged from the kitchen of his master in Clonmell, to make his -way to foreign countries. - -His master was a very honest fellow--a schoolmaster of the name of -Chaytor, a Quaker, round of paunch and red of nose. I believe that some -of his progeny are now men of office in Tipperary--and why should they -not? Summer school-vacations in Ireland occur in July; and Chaytor--by -the bye, I think he was _Tom_ Chaytor, but if Quakers have Christian -names I am not sure,--gave leave to his man Tom to go wandering about -the country. He had four, or perhaps five, days to himself. - -Tom, as he was described to me by my uncle over a jug of punch about -a quarter of a century ago, was what in his memory must have been a -smart-built fellow. Clean of limb, active of hand, light of leg, clear -of eye, bright of hair, white of tooth, and two-and-twenty; in short, he -was as handsome a lad as you would wish to look upon in a summer's day. -I mention a summer's day merely for its length; for even on a winter's -day there were few girls that could cast an eye upon him without -forgetting the frost. - -So he started for the land of Kilkenny, which is what we used to call -in Ireland twenty-four miles from Clonmell. They have stretched it -now to thirty; but I do not find it the longer or shorter in walking -or chalking. However, why should we gamble at an act of "justice to -Ireland?" Tom at all events cared little for the distance; and, going it -at a slapping pace, he made Kilkenny in six hours. I pass the itinerary. -He started at six in the morning, and arrived somewhat foot-worn, but -full not only of bread, but of wine, (for wine was to be found on -country road-sides in Ireland in those days,) in the ancient city of -Saint Canice about noon. - -Tom refreshed himself at the Feathers, kept in those days by a man named -Jerry Mulvany, who was supposed to be more nearly connected with the -family of Ormond than the rites of the church could allow; and having -swallowed as much of the substantial food and the pestiferous fluid that -mine host of the Feathers tendered him, the spirit of inquisitiveness, -which, according to the phrenologists, is developed in all mankind, -seized paramount hold of Tom. Tom--? ay, Tom it must be, for I really -cannot recollect his other name. - -If there be a guide-book to the curiosities of Kilkenny, the work has -escaped my researches. Of the city it is recorded, however, that it can -boast of fire without smoke, air without fog, and streets paved with -marble. And there's the college, and the bridge, and the ruins of St. -John's abbey, and St. Canice, and the Nore itself, and last, not least, -the castle of the Ormonds, with its woods and its walks, and its stables -and its gallery, and all the rest of it, predominating over the river. -It is a very fine-looking thing indeed; and, if I mistake not, John -Wilson Croker, in his youth, wrote a poem to its honour, beginning with - - "High on the sounding banks of Nore," - -every verse of which ended with "The castle," in the manner of Cowper's -"My Mary," or Ben Jonson's "Tom Tosspot." If I had the poem, I should -publish it here with the greatest pleasure; but I have it not. I forget -where I saw it, but I think it was in a Dublin magazine of a good many -years ago, when I was a junior sophister of T. C. D. - -Let the reader, then, in the absence of this document, imagine that -the poem was infinitely fine, and that the subject was worthy of the -muse. As the castle is the most particular lion of the city, it of -course speedily attracted the attention of Tom, who, swaggering in all -the independence of an emancipated footman up the street, soon found -himself at the gate. "Rearing himself thereat," as the old ballad has -it, stood a man basking in the sun. He was somewhat declining towards -what they call the vale of years in the language of poetry; but by -the twinkle of his eye, and the purple rotundity of his cheek, it was -evident that the years of the valley, like the lads of the valley, had -gone cheerily-o! The sun shone brightly upon his silver locks, escaping -from under a somewhat tarnished cocked-hat guarded with gold lace, the -gilding of which had much deteriorated since it departed from the shop -of the artificer; and upon a scarlet waistcoat, velvet certainly, but -of reduced condition, and in the same situation as to gilding as the -hat. His plum-coloured breeches were unbuckled at the knee, and his -ungartered stockings were on a downward progress towards his unbuckled -shoes. He had his hands--their wrists were garnished with unwashed -ruffles--in his breeches pockets; and he diverted himself with whistling -"Charley over the water," in a state of _quasi_-ruminant quiescence. -Nothing could be plainer than that he was a hanger-on of the castle off -duty, waiting his time until called for, when of course he was to appear -before his master in a more carefully arranged costume. - -Ormond Castle was then, as I believe it is now, a show-house, and the -visitors of Kilkenny found little difficulty in the admission; but, as -in those days purposes of political intrusion might be suspected, some -shadow at least of introduction was considered necessary. Tom, reared -in the household of a schoolmaster, where the despotic authority of the -chief extends a flavour of its quality to all his ministers, exhilarated -by the walk, and cheered by the eatables and drinkables which he had -swallowed, felt that there was no necessity for consulting any of the -usual points of etiquette, if indeed he knew that any such things were -in existence. - -"I say," said he, "old chap! is this castle to be seen? I'm told it's a -show; and if it is, let's have a look at it." - -"It is to be seen," replied the person addressed, "if you are properly -introduced." - -"That's all hum!" said Tom. "I know enough of the world, though I've -lived all my life in Clonmell, to know that a proper introduction -signifies a tester. Come, my old snouty, I'll stand all that's right if -you show me over it. Can you do it?" - -"Why," said his new friend, "I think I can; because, in fact, I am----" - -"Something about the house, I suppose. Well, though you've on a laced -jacket, and I only a plain frieze coat, we are both brothers of the -shoulder-knot. I tell you who I am. Did you ever hear of Chaytor the -Quaker, the schoolmaster of Clonmell?" - -"Never." - -"Well, he's a decent sort of fellow in the _propria quæ maribus_ line, -and gives as good a buttock of beef to anybody that gets over the -threshold of his door as you'd wish to meet; and I am his man,--his -valley de sham, head gentleman----" - -"Gentleman usher?" - -"No, not usher," responded Tom indignantly: "I have nothing to do with -ushers; they are scabby dogs of poor scholards, sizards, half-pays, and -the like; and all the young gentlemen much prefer me:--but I am his -_fiddleus Achates_, as master Jack Toler calls me,--that's a purty pup -who will make some fun some of these days,--his whacktotum, head-cook, -and dairy-maid, slush, and butler. What are you here?" - -"Why," replied the man at the gate, "I am a butler as well as you." - -"Oh! then we're both butlers; and you could as well pass us in. By -coarse, the butler must be a great fellow here; and I see you are rigged -out in the cast clothes of my lord. Isn't that true?" - -"True enough: he never gets a suit of clothes that it does not fall to -my lot to wear it; but if you wish to see the castle, I think I can -venture to show you all that it contains, even for the sake of our being -two butlers." - -It was not much sooner said than done. Tom accompanied his companion -over the house and grounds, making sundry critical observations on all -he saw therein,--on painting, architecture, gardening, the sublime and -beautiful, the scientific and picturesque,--in a manner which I doubt -not much resembled the average style of reviewing those matters in what -we now call the best public instructors. - -"Rum-looking old ruffians!" observed Tom, on casting his eyes along -the gallery containing the portraitures of the Ormondes. "Look at that -fellow there all battered up in iron; I wish to God I had as good a -church as he would rob!" - -"He was one of the old earls," replied his guide, "in the days of Henry -the Eighth; and I believe he did help in robbing churches." - -"I knew it by his look," said Tom; "and there's a chap there in a -wilderness of a wig. Gad! he looks as if he was like to be hanged." - -"He was so," said the cicerone; "for a gentleman of the name of Blood -was about to pay him that compliment at Tyburn." - -"Serve him right," observed Tom; "and this fellow with the short -stick in his hand;--what the deuce is the meaning of that?--was he a -constable?" - -"No," said his friend, "he was a marshal; but he had much to do with -keeping out of the way of constables for some years. Did you ever hear -of Dean Swift?" - -"Did I ever hear of the Dane? Why, my master has twenty books of his -that he's always reading, and he calls him Old Copper-farthing; and the -young gentlemen are quite wild to read them. I read some of them wance -(once); but they were all lies, about fairies and giants. Howsoever, -they say the Dane was a larned man." - -"Well, he was a great friend of that man with the short stick in his -hand." - -"By dad!" said Tom, "few of the Dane's friends was friends to the -Hanover succession; and I'd bet anything that that flourishing-looking -lad there was a friend to the Pretender." - -"It is likely that if you laid such a bet you would win it. He was a -great friend also of Queen Anne. Have you ever heard of her?" - -"Heard of Brandy Nan! To be sure I did--merry be the first of August! -But what's the use of looking at those queer old fools?--I wonder who -bothered themselves painting them?" - -"I do not think you knew the people;--they were Vandyke, Lely, Kneller." - -"I never heard of them in Clonmell," remarked Tom. "Have you anything to -drink?" - -"Plenty." - -"But you won't get into a scrape? Honour above all; I'd not like to have -you do it unless you were sure, for the glory of the cloth." - -The pledge of security being solemnly offered, Tom followed his -companion through the intricate passages of the castle until he came -into a small apartment, where he found a most plentiful repast before -him. He had not failed to observe, that, as he was guided through -the house, their path had been wholly uncrossed, for, if anybody -accidentally appeared, he hastily withdrew. One person only was detained -for a moment, and to him the butler spoke a few words in some unknown -tongue, which Tom of course set down as part of the Jacobite treason -pervading every part of the castle. - -"Gad!" said he, while beginning to lay into the round of beef, "I am -half inclined to think that the jabber you talked just now to the -powder-monkey we met in that corridor was not treason, but beef and -mustard: an't I right?" - -"Quite so." - -"Fall to, then, yourself. By Gad! you appear to have those lads under -your thumb--for this is great eating. I suppose you often rob my -lord?--speak plain, for I myself rob ould Chaytor the schoolmaster; but -there's a long difference between robbing a schoolmaster and robbing a -lord. I venture to say many a pound of his you have made away with." - -"A great many indeed. I am ashamed to say it, that for one pound he has -lost by anybody else, he has lost a hundred by me." - -"Ashamed, indeed! This is beautiful beef. But let us wash it down. By -the powers! is it champagne you are giving me? Well, I never drank but -one glass of it in my life, and that was from a bottle that I stole out -of a dozen which the master had when he was giving a great dinner to the -fathers of the boys just before the Christmas holidays the year before -last. My service to you. By Gor! if you do not break the Ormonds, I -can't tell who should." - -"Nor I. Finish your champagne. What else will you have to drink?" - -"Have you the run of the cellar?" - -"Certainly." - -"Why, then, claret is genteel; but the little I drank of it was mortal -cold. Could you find us a glass of brandy?" - -"Of course:" and on the sounding of a bell there appeared the same valet -who had been addressed in the corridor; and in the same language some -intimation was communicated, which in a few moments produced a bottle of -Nantz, rare and particular, placed before Tom with all the emollient -appliances necessary for turning it into punch. - -"By all that's bad," said the Clonmellian butler, "but ye keep these -fellows to their knitting. This is indeed capital stuff. Make for -yourself. When you come to Clonmell, ask for me--Tom--at old Chaytor's, -the Quaker schoolmaster, a few doors from the Globe. This lord of yours, -I am told, is a bloody Jacobite: here's the Hanover succession! but we -must not drink that here, for perhaps the old fellow himself might hear -us." - -"Nothing is more probable." - -"Well, then, mum's the word. I'm told he puts white roses in his dog's -ears, and drinks a certain person over the water on the tenth of June; -but, no matter, this is his house, and you and I are drinking his -drink,--so, why should we wish him bad luck? If he was hanged, of course -I'd go to see him, to be sure; would not you?" - -"I should certainly be there." - -By this time Tom was subdued by the champagne and the brandy, to say -nothing of the hot weather; and the spirit of hospitality rose strong -upon the spirit of cognac. His new friend gently hinted that a retreat -to his _gîte_ at the Feathers would be prudent; but to such a step Tom -would by no means consent unless the butler of the castle accompanied -him to take a parting bowl. With some reluctance the wish was complied -with, and both the butlers sallied forth on their way through the -principal streets of Kilkenny, just as the evening was beginning to -assume somewhat of a dusky hue. Tom had, in the course of the three or -four hours passed with his new friend, informed him of all the private -history of the house of Ormond, with that same regard to veracity -which in general characterises the accounts of the births, lives, and -educations of persons of the higher classes, to be found in fashionable -novels and other works drawn from the communications of such authorities -as our friend Tom; and his companion offered as much commentary as is -usually done on similar occasions. Proceeding in a twirling motion -along, he could not but observe that the principal persons whom they -met bowed most respectfully to the gentleman from the castle; and, on -being assured that this token of deference was paid because they were -tradesmen of the castle, who were indebted to the butler for his good -word in their business, Tom's appreciation of his friend's abilities -in the art of "improving" his situation was considerably enhanced. He -calculated that if they made money by the butler, the butler made money -by them; and he determined that on his return to Clonmell he too would -find tradesfolks ready to take hats off to him in the ratio of pedagogue -to peer. - -The Kilkenny man steadied the Clonmell man to the Feathers, where the -latter most potentially ordered a bowl of the best punch. The slipshod -waiter stared; but a look from Tom's friend was enough. They were -ushered into the best apartment of the house,--Tom remarking that it -was a different room from that which he occupied on his arrival; and in -a few minutes the master of the house, Mr. Mulvany, in his best array, -made his appearance with a pair of wax candles in his hands. He bowed to -the earth as he said, - -"If I had expected you, my----" - -"Leave the room," was the answer. - -"Not before I order my bowl of punch," said Tom. - -"Shall I, my----" - -"Yes," said the person addressed; "whatever he likes." - -"Well," said Tom, as Mulvany left the room, "if I ever saw anything to -match that. Is he one of the tradespeople of the castle? This does bate -everything. And, by dad, he's not unlike you in the face, neither! Och! -then, what a story I'll have when I get back to Clonmell." - -"Well, Tom," said his friend, "I may perhaps see you there; but -good-b'ye for a moment. I assure you I have had much pleasure in your -company." - -"He's a queer fellow that," thought Tom, "and I hope he'll be soon back. -It's a pleasant acquaintance I've made the first day I was in Kilkenny. -Sit down, Mr. Mulvany," said he, as that functionary entered, bearing a -bowl of punch, "and taste your brewing." To which invitation Mr. Mulvany -acceded, nothing loth, but still casting an anxious eye towards the door. - -"That's a mighty honest man," said Tom. - -"I do not know what you mean," replied the cautious Mulvany; (for, -"honest man" was in those days another word for Jacobite.) - -"I mane what I say," said Tom; "he's just showed me over the castle, and -gave me full and plenty of the best of eating and drinking. He tells me -he's the butler." - -"And so he is, you idiot of a man!" cried Mulvany. "He's the chief -Butler of Ireland." - -"What?" said Tom. - -"Why, him that was with you just now is the Earl of Ormond." - -My story is over-- - - "And James Fitzjames was Scotland's king." - -All the potations pottle-deep, the road-side drinking, the champagne, the -cognac, the punch of the Feathers, vanished at once from Tom's brain, to -make room for the recollection of what he had been saying for the last -three hours. Waiting for no further explanation, he threw up the window, -(they were sitting on a ground-floor,) and, leaving Mr. Mulvany to -finish the bowl as he pleased, proceeded at a hand-canter to Clonmell, -not freed from the apparition of Lord Ormond before he had left Kilcash -to his north; and nothing could ever again induce him to wander in -the direction of Kilkenny, there to run the risk of meeting with his -fellow-butler, until his lordship was so safely bestowed in the family -vault as to render the chance of collision highly improbable. Such is my -_Il Bondocani_. - T. C. D. - - [Illustration: The Little Bit of Tape] - - - - - THE LITTLE BIT OF TAPE. - BY RICHARD JOHNS, ESQ. - -"Slow and sure" has been the motto of my family from generation to -generation, and wonderfully has it prospered by acting on this maxim; -the misfortunes of the house of Slowby having apparently been reserved -for the only active and enterprising individual ever born unto that -name. Reader, I am that unhappy man! Waiters upon Fortune, plentifully -have all my progenitors fared from the dainties of the good lady's -table; while I, in my anxiety to share in the feast, have generally -upset the board, and lost every thing in the scramble. - -Sir James Slowby, my worthy father, was a younger son, and his portion -had been little more than the blessing of a parent, conveyed in the form -of words always used in our family--"Bless thee, my son; be slow and -sure, and you will be sure to get on." He did get on; for, was he not -one of the feelers of that huge polypus in society, the Slowbys? Ways of -making money, which other men had diligently sought in vain, discovered -themselves to him; places were conferred on him, and legacies left -him, for no one reason that could be discovered, except that he seemed -indifferent to such matters, and latterly became so wealthy, that he did -not require them. He was slow in marrying; not entering the "holy state" -till he was forty. He did not wed a fortune: no! he rather preferred a -woman of good expectations; and these were, of course, realised,--the -money came "slow and sure." He lived to a good old age; but death, -though slow, was sure also; and he at length died, leaving two sons: on -one he bestowed all his wealth; the other, my luckless self, he left a -beggarly dependent on an elder brother's bounty. The fact of the matter -was, I had too much vivacity to please so true a Slowby as my father; -while James was a man after his own heart: and, perhaps I had circulated -a little too much of the old gentleman's money in what he strangely -called my "loose kind of life;" but which I only denominated "living -fast." He might have confessed that I was not altogether selfish in my -pleasures. I often made my father most magnificent presents; and though, -perhaps, he ultimately had to pay the bills, the generosity of the -intention was the same. - -The following letters were written just before our worthy parent's -death, by his two sons. James was at the paternal mansion in ---- Square, -I at a little road-side public-house about four and twenty miles from -Newmarket. I must premise that I was thus far on my way to London, in -answer to my brother's summons; but, at "Ugley" over the post-chaise -went--a wheel was broken, and so was my left arm. The post-boys swore -it was my fault, because I had not patience to have the wheels properly -greased; and I, because it was my misfortune to be obliged to delay my -journey till the mischief was repaired--I mean as regards the WEAL of my -arm, not the wheel of the chaise,--for, had I been able, I would rather -have ridden one of the post-horses to the next stage, than not have -pursued my route. - - "_---- Square._ - MY DEAR BROTHER,--Your - father requests that you will take an early opportunity - of coming to town, as he is supposed to be on his - death-bed. His will only awaits your arrival to receive - signature. Should you solemnly promise not to dissipate - money as you have heretofore done, he will leave you a - gentlemanly competence. Dr. Druget is of opinion that - our father may live till Sunday next; so, if you are - here at any period before that date, you will be in - sufficient time for the above-mentioned purpose. - "Your affectionate brother, JAMES SLOWBY." - - "DEAR JIM,--_You_ might think - it wise to delay my seeing our dear father, but _I_ - did not;--so started at once,--double-fee'd the - post-boys,--double feed for the horses,--away I bowled, - till off came the wheel at Ugley. Here I am, with - a broken arm. Tell my father I am cut to the quick - that we may never meet again. I'll promise any thing - he likes. I now really see the folly of being always - in such a devil of a hurry; particularly in spending - money, paying bills, and that kind of thing: say that I - will now for ever stick by the family motto, 'slow and - sure.' - "Yours in haste, RICHARD SLOWBY." - - "P.S. I send my own servant to ride whip - and spur till he puts this in your hands; he will - beat the post by an hour and a half, which is of - consequence." - -This latter epistle never reached its destination,--my poor fellow broke -his neck at Epping; and, as the letter was despatched in too great haste -to be fully directed, it was opened and returned to me by the coroner in -due course of post. - -I did not get to town till long after the death of my father. The will -signed at last, my absence being unaccounted for, gave my brother the -whole property; nor did he seem inclined to part with a shilling. A -place in the T----, which the head of our ancient house, Lord Snaile, -had bestowed on my father, and still promised to keep in the family, -might yet be mine,--I was his lordship's godson, and had a fair chance -for it; but the now Sir James Slowby, second of the title, and worthy of -the name, would not withdraw his claim as eldest born. - -"I won't move in the matter, Richard," said my slow and sure brother; -"but if my lord gives me the offer, I will accept it. I am not greedy -after riches, Heaven knows; but it would be tempting Providence not to -hold what is put into my possession, nor freely take what is freely -given. His lordship has requested, by letter, that we both wait upon him -in Curzon Street, no doubt about the appointment; he makes mention of -wishing to introduce us to the ladies, after 'the despatch of business.' -Our cousin Maria used to be lovely as a child, and, though not a -fortune, may come in for something considerable, ultimately." - -Such was my brother's harangue. Sick of his prosing I left his -house, comforting myself that I had, at least, as much chance of -the appointment as he had; nor was I altogether without my hopes of -supplanting him with Maria, though _he_ might be worthy of wedding her -at Marylebone; and I, even with her own special licence, would have to -journey on the same errand as far as Gretna. - -I dined that day at Norwood with an old schoolfellow. At his house I -was to pass the night, and on the morrow, at two o'clock, my fate was -to be decided. On this eventful morning I was set down in Camberwell by -my friend's phaeton. I had seen the Norwood four-horse coach start for -town long before we left home, and had given myself great credit for not -allowing it to convey me that I might have from thence been enabled to -intrude on Lord Snaile's privacy an hour or two before I was expected. -But I recollected I had annoyed his lordship on more than one occasion -in a similar manner, and I seriously resolved that I would no longer -mar my fortunes by my precipitation. It was now, however, within two -hours of the time of appointment; my friend's vehicle was not going any -farther, and I might, at least, indulge myself by reaching Oxford Street -by the quickest public conveyance. Omnibuses had just been introduced -on that road; and the Red Rover, looking like a huge trap for catching -passengers, was drawn up at the end of Camberwell Green. "Charing Cross, -sir!"--"Oxford Street, sir!"--"Going directly, sir!" was music to my -ears, even from the cracked voice of a cad, and in I unfortunately got; -and there did I sit for ten minutes, while coaches innumerable, passed -me for London. Still I preserved my patience, firm in my good resolves. -At length another Westminster omnibus drove up. - -"Are you going now; or are you not?" said I, very properly restraining -an oath just on the tip of my tongue. - -"Going directly, sir--be in town long before him, sir," said the cad, -pointing to the other 'bus, for he saw my eye was turned towards it. - -At that moment a simple-looking servant-girl with a bandbox came across -the Green, and a fight commenced between the _conducteurs_ of the rival -vehicles for the unfortunate woman, in which she got not a little pulled -about. The Red Rover, however, won the day; and glad enough was I when -we started, at a rattling pace. But my pleasure was of short duration. - -"Where are you going?" asked an old women opposite me, who knew the -road, which I did not. - -"Going to take up, ma'am," said the cad. "We shall be back to the Green -Man in ten minutes if you've left any thing behind." - -"Where is my bandbox?" said the girl. - -"I knows nothing about it, not I; I suppose it went by the other 'bus -if you arn't a got it. Why did you let it out of your own hands, young -'oman? That 'ere cad is the greatest thief on the road." - -The girl began to cry, and declared she should lose her place; and I to -swear, for I thought it very likely I should lose mine. But we at length -once more passed the Green, and tore along at the rate of ten miles an -hour, till we set down passengers at the Elephant and Castle. Reader, -do you happen to know a biscuit-shop occupying the corner of the road -to Westminster, opposite the aforesaid Elephant and Castle? There it -was, the Red Rover drew up, and the cad descended to run after a man and -woman, who seemed undetermined whether they would take six-pennyworth -or not. My patience was now quite exhausted. A four-horse Westminster -coach was just starting across the way, and, determined to get a place -in a more expeditious conveyance, I dashed open the door of the omnibus -just as the _conducteur's_ "all right" again set the carriage in motion; -he, having failed in his canvassing, at the same instant jumped on -the step behind the 'bus. The consequences were direful. The cad was -transferred to the pavement by a swingeing blow on the temple from the -opening panel, while I lost my equilibrium, and made a full-length -prostration into mud four inches thick, which formed the bed of the -road. I had fallen face downward, and the infuriated official of the -'bus quickly bestrode me, grasping me by the nape of the neck. I gasped -for breath. Never shall I forget what I then inhaled. To bite the -dust is always disagreeable; but, I can assure you, it is nothing to -a mouthful of mud. Rescued at last by the intervention of the police, -I was permitted to rise. I had no time to dispute the question of -right and wrong; glad enough was I to be allowed to medicate the cad's -promissory black eye with a sovereign; for which I was declared by all -present, and particularly by the man what rides behind the 'homnibus' -"to be a perfect gemman, only a little hasty." Never was a gentleman -in a worse pickle. The road had been creamed by the _reign_ of wet -weather that marks an English summer. Had I been diving in a mud-cart, -or "far into the bowels of the land," through the medium of a ditch in -the neighbouring St. George's Fields, I could not have presented a more -extraordinary appearance. I might have been rated as a forty-shilling -landholder, and rich soil into the bargain. As soon as I could clear my -eyes sufficiently to permit of the exercise of vision, I espied an old -clothes' shop in the distance; and in this welcome retreat I speedily -bestowed myself amid cries of "How are you off for soap?"--"There you -go, stick-in-the-mud!"--"Where did you lie last?" and other specimens -of suburban wit. Having left the admiring gaze of about two hundred -spectators, I obtained a washing-tub and a private room from my -newly-formed acquaintance, Isaacs; and, my ablutions being complete, I -equipped myself in a full suit of black, which, though the habiliments -were rather the worse for wear, fitted me pretty well, and had been, -withal, decently made. I was also supplied with shirt and drawers, -"goot ash new," and a hat which Isaacs swore was only made the week -before, and "cheap ash dirt." I appreciated the simile, but the hat I -could scarcely get on my head; time was however wearing away, and I was -obliged to have it, as well as a pair of Blucher boots, not a Wellington -fitting me in the Jew's whole stock of such articles. I again started. -There happened to be a hackney-coach passing just as I emerged from the -shop. This was fortunate; for, to hide my low boots, Isaacs had strapped -my trousers down so tightly, that, not trusting much to the material, I -thought it might be advisable to avoid walking. - -I had yet sufficient time before me to keep my appointment, and I -was now fairly on my way to Curzon Street; nothing interrupting my -meditation for the next half hour but the paying of a turnpike. I had -certainly met with many vexatious annoyances during the morning; but I -felt pleased with myself for so far conquering my impetuous spirit as to -have exhibited, on the whole, but little irritation under my suffering. -For this, I thought I deserved to succeed in my present visit to that -high-priest of Fortune, a patron. Then I bethought me of Maria, and took -a glance at my suit of black. I fancied that I must look very like an -undertaker,--I knew not why: I had imagined myself perfectly gentlemanly -in appearance when I left my toilet at Norwood, and I had only changed -one suit of black for another,--but then these were not made for me. -Perhaps some poor fellow had been hanged in them. I got nervous and -miserable. - -My hat galled my head; I removed it, and held it in my hand. It -certainly did not look like a new one. I was ingeniously tormenting -myself with calling to memory every disease of the scalp I had ever -heard of, when I reached the corner of Curzon Street; and, not wishing -to desecrate the portals of the fastidious peer by driving up in a -"Jarvey," I got out, and made my approach on foot. I had knocked--there -was a delay in opening the door. The porter is out of the way, thought -I; and I took an opportunity of looking at my heels, to see if I had -walked off with any straws from the coach. I heard the door opening;--I -say heard, for I did not look up, my eyes just then resting on a small -_piece of tape_ that I had been dragging in the dirt--Oh! luckless -appurtenance of the drawers of the Jew!--Yes! the door was opening to -admit me to the presence of my noble relation--my patron--who I trusted -was waiting with an appointment of 1500_l._ a-year, anxious to bestow it -on his godson--the morning that was to witness my introduction to her -whom I had already wedded in my imagination--I saw a little piece of -tape dangling at my heels! Before the portals of the mansion had quite -gaped to receive me, my finger was twisted round this cruel instrument -of destiny, in the hope of breaking it. I pulled. Acting like a knife on -the trousers, fast strapped to my boots, and too powerful a strain on -the drawers, though "goot ash new," both were rent to the waistband;--my -coat ripped at the shoulder by the action of my arm;--my hat fell off, -and was taken by the wind down the street;--and the servant, to whom, -having finished this ingenious operation, I stood fully disclosed, -unfortunately saw but the effects, without knowing the cause of my -disaster. - -The man was too well-bred to remark my appearance, but he had every -reason for thinking me either mad or drunk; as, to crown all, my face -must have been flushed and distorted from rage and mortification. - -"My lord expects you in the library, sir," said the astounded servant. - -An abrupt "Tell my lord I'll call again" was my only reply, delivered -over my shoulder as I dashed from the door, perfectly unconscious of -what I was about, till I found myself in a tavern, the first friendly -door that was open to receive me. I here composed my bewildered -senses, despatched a messenger for a tailor, and set myself down to -concoct a note to Lord Snaile. But how narrate to the most particular, -matter-of-fact, and yet fastidious, man in the world the events of -that morning? I threw the pen and paper from me in despair. Nothing -now remained but to wait patiently, if possible, till I could make my -excuses in person. - -The tailor came, and in about an hour and a half I was again on my way -to his lordship's residence; but alas! ere I reached it, I met my steady -young brother, who with much formality thus addressed me. - -"Richard Slowby, your conduct this morning is the climax of your -excesses. His lordship requests that he may not in future be favoured -with your visits in Curzon Street; and I consider it my duty to inform -you, that these will be equally disagreeable in ---- Square." - -I felt at that moment too proud to ask for, or offer, explanations. -I saw by the twinkle of his cold grey eye that _he_ had received the -appointment, and of course it would have been against his principles to -resign it in my favour; so I merely told him that I should have great -pleasure in attending to the wishes of two men I so _equally_ respected -as Lord Snaile and Sir James Slowby: and, bidding him a very good -morning, I left him to his self-gratulations. - -About a twelvemonth afterwards, I elicited from the servant who had -opened the door to me, and delivered my unfortunate message to his -lordly master, the following particulars. - -It appears that on the man entering the library he found the peer -and the baronet seated together, the eyes of the former fixed on a -time-piece, which told the startling fact that the hour of appointment -was past, by five minutes. "Is Mr. Slowby come?" said my lord, turning -suddenly towards the servant. - -"Yes, my lord; but----" - -"Show him in directly, sir. Did I not tell you I expected Mr. Slowby, -and ordered him to be admitted?" - -"I told the gentleman so, my lord, and that you were waiting for him, -and he said he would call again. I am afraid the gentleman is unwell, my -lord." - -"Unwell!" cried his lordship, "and you allowed him to quit the house?" - -"He ran away, my lord;" and here, not knowing how far it would be safe -to give the conclusion he had drawn from my extraordinary manner and -appearance, the man hesitated. - -"Tell me why, this instant, sir," exclaimed his master; "there is some -mystery, and I will know it." - -"I beg pardon, my lord, but Mr. Slowby seemed much excited--was -without his hat, had torn clothes--scarcely decent, my lord. I hope -your lordship will excuse me, but the gentleman seemed flushed with -after-dinner indulgence in the morning, my lord." - -On this well-bred announcement of my being drunk, the peer and his -companion exchanged significant looks. - -"You may go," said my lord, bowing his head to the servant: but ere -my informant got further than the neutral ground between the double -doors, he heard my kind brother say, "Just like him;--dined yesterday at -Norwood." - -"A disgrace to the family!" sorrowfully remarked his lordship. "I had -hoped to benefit him, but"--a pause--"the appointment is yours, Sir -John. I could not trust it with a man of his character." - -It is satisfactory to know the particulars of one's misfortunes, and -these were given me at the "Bear" in Piccadilly. After being cut by all, -as a graceless vagabond, when it was discovered that I had few meals -to say grace over, I am now considered dead to society; but I am, in -fact, "living for revenge." To spite the omnibuses, and abuse the cads -at my leisure, I drive a short stage out of town; and if any gentleman -knows one Dick Hastings, and will "please to remember the coachman," he -who will drink to his honour's good health will be the luckless Richard -Slowby. - - - - - HIPPOTHANASIA; OR, THE LAST OF TAILS. - A LAMENTABLE TALE; BY WILLIAM JERDAN. - - "London and Brighton _Railway_ (quatuor); - Brighton and London _Railway_, without a tunnel; - Gateshead, South-Shields, and Monk-Wearmouth - _Railway_; London Grand-junction _Railway_; Northern - and Eastern _Railway_; Southeastern _Railway_; Great - Northern _Railway_; Great Western _Railway_; London - and Birmingham _Railway_; London and Greenwich - _Railway_; Croydon _Railway_; North-Midland _Railway_; - London and Blackwall _Railway_; Commercial-road - _Railway_; Wolverhampton and Dudley _Railway_; - Liverpool and Manchester _Railway_; Hull and Selby - _Railway_; Newcastle-upon-Tyne and Carlisle _Railway_; - Kingston-upon-Hull _Railway_; Durham Junction - _Railway_; Edinburgh and Glasgow _Railway_; Dublin and - Kingstown _Railway_; Dublin and Bantry Bay _Railway_; - London and Gravesend _Railway_; Commercial _Railway_; - Eastern Counties _Railway_; Llanelly _Railway_; London, - Salisbury and Exeter _Railway_; Preston and Wye - _Railway_; Bristol and Exeter _Railway_; Gravesend and - Dover _Railway_; Gravesend, Rochester, Chatham, and - Stroud _Railway_; London and Southampton _Railway_; - Gateshead and South Shields _Railway_; Cheltenham - and Great Western _Railway_; Lincoln _Railway_; - Leicester and Swannington _Railway_; Newcastle and - York _Railway_; Birmingham and Derby _Railway_; - Bolton and Leigh _Railway_; Canterbury and Whitstable - _Railway_; Clarence _Railway_; Cromford and Peak - Forest _Railway_; Edinburgh and Dalkeith _Railway_; - Dean Forest _Railway_; Hartlepool _Railway_; St. - Helens and Runc. Gap _Railway_; Manchester and Oldham - _Railway_; Preston and Wigan _Railway_; Stanhope and - Tyne _Railway_; Stockton and Darlington _Railway_; - Warrington and Newton _Railway_; the Grand Incomparable - North-southern, East-western _Railway_, with parallel - and radiating Branches," &c. &c. &c. - -"It may be observed," (says a newspaper in our hand, quite as correctly -informed as newspapers usually are,) "that the railway companies now -forming, of which we have a list before us, require a capital of upwards -of thirty millions of pounds, divided into nearly five hundred thousand -shares." - -This was in the year 1836; and the horror it excited in the race of -horses, native and foreign, inhabitants of the British empire, is not -to be described. A knowledge of the habits and intelligence of this -species is only to be obtained from the writings of our matter-of-fact -and lamented predecessor, Captain Lemuel Gulliver, whose travels among -the Houyhnhnms, rather more than a century ago, may have been heard -of by a few of our antiquarian and classical readers. To that work we -would refer, to show that Houyhnhnm is "the perfection of nature;" which -truth will partly account for the following melancholy narrative. "I -admired" (the author writes) "the strength, comeliness, and speed of -the inhabitants; and such a constellation of virtues in such amiable -persons, produced in me the highest veneration." - -Having the view of horse-flesh which this preface opens, though we -have not had an opportunity of studying it so purely under our mixed -government, breeds, and circumstances, it is unnecessary to explain -the panic which arose on the announcement of so universal a system of -railways to supersede the noble animal in every beneficial and elegant -office, and reduce it to the condition of a useless sinecurist, even -if permitted to live on human bounty. The result was that, when the -severities of winter fell thick and fast, a convocation was held by -moonlight in Smithfield, and adjourned, owing to the multitude, to -Horselydown, (so called from King John being tumbled off his nag by that -process in that locality,) and, after a most interesting discussion, -it was unanimously resolved that every horse in Great Britain should -die. Wherefore should they live? Steam-boats had thrown the wayfaring -trackers out of hay; steam-ploughs, the agricultural labourers out of -oats; steam-carriages, the best of posters out of employment; steam -guns, the military out of service; steam-engines, the mechanics out of -mills and factories;--in short, their occupations were gone, and they -knew not where they could get a bit to their mouths. Wherefore should -they live! - -The resolution having been communicated throughout the country, and -an hour appointed for the catastrophe, though it had nigh broken the -hearts of some petted ponies and favourites, it was obeyed with all -the stubborn _sted_-fastness of this illustrious creature. Racers and -hunters, coach and cart, high-bred and low, drays and galloways, saddle -and side ditto, Suffolk punches and dogsmeat, cobs and cabs, hacks -and shelties, respectables and rips, old and young, stallions, mares, -geldings, colts, foals, and fillies,--all perished at the same time. -O'Connell's tail was the only one that remained extant in England, -Wales, Scotland, and Ireland; but this our tale hath no reference to -that. It may be inquired by the physiologist what were the means of -death to which the abhorrence of steam induced the horses to resort; and -it is gratifying to be able to satisfy their thirst for knowledge by -stating that they died of the _Vapours_. - -But we now come to the extraordinary results which must spring from -the fatal fact we have just recorded. "_What next?_" as the political -pamphleteer sayeth:--ay, _what next_? How will the country go on? _What -will the Lords do_--without horses? - -The revolution produced by the event was immediately felt in every part -of the empire, in every pursuit, in every trade, in every amusement. -Within four-and-twenty hours, the isle was frighted from her propriety, -and England could no longer be recognised for herself. It is true that -the crown remained; but how shorn of its beams! And then the whole -_Equestrian_ order had been destroyed at a blow. Talk of swamping the -Peers! it was done, and they could dragoon the representatives of the -people no more. And in proportion to their fall was the rise of the -_Commoners_. Not a donkey-man whose ass fed on these wastes, but found -himself in a higher and more powerful position. When horses are out of -the field, great is the increase of the value of asses. The brutes, it -is true, are still long-eared, obstinate, devoid of speed, rat-tailed, -and stupid; but, in the absence of nobler beasts, whatever is, must be -first. And so it now happened. The huckster, the gipsy, the higgler, the -donkey-driver of Margate, the costermonger, the sandman, every asinine -possessor mounted in the scale, as it fell out, with a one or more -ass power, and the scum became the top of the boiling-pot of society, -who all at once found themselves gentlemen of property and influence. -Little had the superior classes dreamed how entirely their dignity and -consequence depended on their "cattle;" but now, when a Wellington, -a Grey, a Melbourne, an Anglesey, a Jersey, a Cavendish, a Fane, a -Somerset, had to trudge on foot through the muddy streets, whilst the -Scrogginses, the Smiths, the Gileses, the Toms, Bills, and Charleys -honoured them with a nod and a splash as they scampered by, shouting "Go -it, Neddy!" it was sadly demonstrated to them, and to the world, that -their former personal vanity, pride, and presumption had been built on -a false foundation; for it was not themselves, but their fine and noble -horses, that had won the observance and submissiveness of their fellow -men unmounted. - -The instant effects of the hippo-hecatomb in every circle and business -of life were as remarkable as they were important. No previous -imagination could have suggested a homoeopathic part of the vast -change. His Majesty had decided to open parliament, not by proxy, but in -person,--that is to say, he was to proceed to the House in royal state, -and read his speech as if it were his own, instead of leaving it to five -gentlemen in large cloaks, as if it were theirs, and he ashamed to march -through Coventry with them; but, alas the day! the cream-coloured steeds -were all dead, and the blacks were as pale as the cream. Windsor awoke -in affright and dismay. There were the royal carriages, and there the -coachmen, and there the grooms, and there the hussars; but where were -the horses? Gone! It was a moment for an ebullition of loyalty, and we -record it as an everlasting honour to their young patriotic feelings, -that the boys at Eton, in this mighty emergency, respectfully offered -their services to drag the King to London, providing the head-master -sat upon the box as driver, and the ushers clustered behind, in the -character of the footmen. A council held on the proposition decided -that the task would be too much for the tender years of the Etonians, -and especially as drawing had hardly been taught in that classic -establishment; so that, instead of being competent to draw a monarch, -there was not a boy in the school who could draw anything. At Woolwich -it was quite the reverse. In the increasing dilemma,--for his Majesty -declined the walk, and the route by the river could not be performed in -time,--it was resolved to despatch one of the royal messengers on the -swiftest ass which the town could produce, and order a short prorogation -till measures could be adopted to meet the awful exigences of the crisis. - -In London, meanwhile, the consternation was equally overwhelming, if not -more so. Ministers met in cabinet, but, as usual, knew not what to do; -and so agreed to lie by, a bit, and see how matters might shape their -own course. The First Lord of the Treasury and three secretaries sat -down to a rubber of long whist, half-crown points; the Lord President -of the Council, First Lord of the Admiralty, President of the Board -of Control, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, and Lord Privy -Seal, preferred three-card loo; and the Chancellor of the Exchequer -and the President of the Board of Trade had a capital _tête-à-tête_ -bout at brag. The other officers of state employed themselves as -they could, from the Lord High Chancellor to the store-keepers and -under-secretaries. And meanwhile the public mind, that is to say, all -the mind inside the hats of the mob about Whitehall and Westminster, was -in a tumult of excitement. Two o'clock struck, and no guns were heard: -three, and the patereros were dumb. The clock of the Horse Guards--the -Horse Guards! a name of departed glory and present woe!--told the -hour in vain; till, just as it gave warning for four, a breathless -and panting ass was seen galloping into Downing street. It bore the -express from Windsor, who by prodigious exertions had accomplished the -journey in less than seven hours. The unfinished rubber was broken up, -to the heavy mortification of the First Lord, who scored eight, and was -looking forward to a call of the honours; the loo-scores were balanced -and settled, the First Lord of the Admiralty pocketing the profits, in -consequence of taking one for his heels as the donkey turned up; and -"I brag" fell no more from Exchequer or Trade. But it was already too -late to restore order; and confusion in the midst of deliberation only -became worse confounded. Extraneous calamities every instant interfered. -No mails had arrived, and very few peeresses. The letters containing -friendly assurances from foreign governments were in post-offices, -Heaven knew at what distances. Such of the ministers, bachelor as well -as married, as were directed by their grey mares, had no opportunity -for consulting and receiving their commands, though it must have been -in some degree a consolation to feel that they remained amid the wreck -of horse-flesh. In short, in politics, as at cards, the game was up. -The English constitution was not the constitution of a horse, and it -gave way before the frightful revolution; and, to add to the individual -horrors of the scene, the Master of the Buckhounds, the Master of the -Horse, the Postmaster-General, and the Master of the Rolls (why _he_, -could never be conjectured) committed suicide in the course of the -ensuing night; and the Lord Chancellor became a confirmed lunatic, under -his own care. - -It were tedious to trace all the varieties of aspects into which this -awful event plunged the nation: a few, briefly described, may suffice -to indicate its universal extent and terrible alterations. Routs, ball, -at homes, operas, and every fashionable amusement and resort were -abrogated. The ladies of the land were bowed to the ground. Visits -could not be paid: to dress was unnecessary. There was no crush-room; -and milliners, mantua-makers, perfumers, and jewellers were crushed. -Seventeen old sedan-chairs were the total that could be discovered -in London; and these, with the succedaneum suggested by the witty -Countess of ----, viz. mounting such of the porters' hall-chairs as -were susceptible of the improvement upon poles, in a similar manner, -constituted the whole migrations of the fashionable world. We will not -allude to the meetings baulked, and the assignations broken, through -this unfortunate state of things; and are only sorry to say it did not -add to the sum of domestic felicity. - -The Park--dismal was the Park! Exquisites, more helpless than ever, -tottered along its almost deserted walks. There was not one who, - - ----With left heel insidiously aside, - Provoked the caper he would seem to chide; - -nor was there a pretty woman to smile at him if he had. Could the race -have obtained asses, it would have been most unnatural to ride them; and -thus they vanished from the vision of society. - -Ascot was not particularly unhappy, though the King's cup was a cup of -dregs. But Bentinck and Crocky, Richmond and Gully, Exeter and Lamb, -Rutland and ----, Jersey and ----, Chesterfield and the rest of the legs, -got up an excellent two days' sport. Running in sacks afforded ample -opportunities for betting heavily; and wheelbarrow races, with the -barrow-drivers blindfolded or partially enlightened, were found quite as -good as anything which had been done before, and allowing quite as much -scope for the honourable strategies of the turf. An immense number of -useless horsecollars were brought to be grinned through; and the books -of literature and intelligence surpassed, if anything, those of other -times. - -At Epsom, the old and general patrons of that course having now the -ascendency, indulged in donkey races, at which the poor nobility gazed -with speechless regret. The last were truly the first, here. - -Among the instances of individual ruin, none was more unentertaining -than that of Mr. Ducrow. Reduced to a single zebra, he was obliged to -turn wanderer and mendicant; the stripes of Misfortune were vividly -impressed upon him. Circuses and amphitheatres ceased; and the dragon -was more than a match for the poor horseless St. George. What a symbol -of the decline of England, when even her patron saint must yield to a -Saurian reptile! - -Of all human beings affected by the calamity, deep as were the -afflictions of others, perhaps those who evinced the most sensitive and -overpowering feelings on the occasion, were the butchers' boys. As a -class, they evidently suffered beyond the rest. Betrayed, unsupported, -and wretched, they trudged under the heavy burthens of fate, as if -the world--as indeed in one sense it was--were out of joint for them. -The centaurs of antiquity were destroyed by a demigod; but the modern -centaurs had nothing to soothe their pride. They were hurled down, but -living and without a hope. Poor lads! every heart bled for them. - -There were another set of men, almost equally unfortunate, though they -endured it with greater equanimity,--the late royal horseguards, with -all their splendid caparisons, their tags and tassels, their sashes -and sabres, their spurs and epaulettes, their helms and feathers; the -officers, people of the first families in the country, the men, the -picked and chosen of the plebeian many. The high _élite_ and the low, -reduced alike by unsparing destiny to foot it with the humblest,--it -was a grievous blow; and, considering their Uniform conduct, most -undeserved. And it was accordingly felt that among the earliest evils -for which a remedy should be sought, was the remounting of those so -essential to the dignity of the throne and the safety of the realm. True -it was, that of the animals they once bestrode not a skin was left; but -donkeys were to be procured at excessive prices; and they were obtained -for this especial purpose. As yet, the manoeuvres of the Royal Ass -Guards are more amusing than seemly; but there is no doubt that with -time and discipline they will be, as before, the foremost corps in the -service. - -It were easy to enlarge upon similar topics to the end of this tome, -but they would only serve to illustrate that which, we trust, we have -illustrated enough. At Melton it was melancholy to see the gay hunter, -unable to risk his limbs and neck, reduced to stalking,--and stalking, -too, without a horse. Carts being _hors de combat_, the truck system -began to prevail in all quarters, and, bad as it was, what could not -be cured must be endured. Londonderry went into mourning on account of -having exported seventy asses to Canada by a vessel which sailed about a -month before, about the same period that the old bear at the Tower was -sent to America, together with the monkey which bit Ensign Seymour's -leg. Scotland suffered in the extreme, in spite of its excellent banking -business and assets, for there was scarcely an ass in the country, -except among some gipsies at Yetholm (vide Guy Mannering); and if, as -we are certain it is not, one in a thousand of our readers ever saw a -dead jackass anywhere, it will be agreed that not one in a million could -ever enjoy that spectacle on the north side of Tweed. But enough: the -kingdom was turned upside down,--old gentlemen without their hobbies, -young gentlemen without their exhibitions, sportsmen without their -sports, schoolboys in the holidays without their ponies, ladies without -their rides and knights,[70] coachmen without their hacks, waggoners -without their teams, barges without their draughts, the army without -cavalry, and a king and aristocracy without equipages,--the revolution -is complete. - -In picturing this appalling change, it is but proper to notice that -the agricultural interests have not been so severely dealt with. The -substitution of bullocks was effected without much difficulty in most -farms; and in others hand labour was happily introduced, which employed -the poor, and, upon the whole, rather ameliorated the condition of the -people. - -At first, and for a while, it appeared as if dogs, as well as asses, -would rise in value; but it was soon discovered that every dog would -have only a short day. Like honest creatures as they are, they pulled -and tugged at the cruel loads imposed upon them, till gradually their -strength departed from them, and they died away. Their supply of food -had failed, and the last of the knackers had followed the last of the -tails. Pigs were tried, but positively refused to train. They smelt -the wind, or what was in it; and, when out of breath, had no idea -of getting a new one. A few goats in babies' shays were honoured as -well-bearded and respectable-looking substitutes for the departed; and -the Principality published several triads on the auspicious circumstance. - -But there was a curious coincidence in London, which puzzled the British -Association, the Royal Society, and other learned bodies, and which -it is probable never can be satisfactorily accounted for. We refer to -the sudden and enormous rise in the price of German, Strasburg, and -Bologna sausages. Epping, like Epsom, might be involved in the national -difficulty; but how distant countries, Germany and Italy, could by -possibility be affected, was a mystery which the Geographical, and even -the Statistical Society, professed themselves incompetent to determine. - -From bad to worse has been the rapid declension of the empire since -the fatal day of the fatal catastrophe which is the subject of this -pitiable historical record. Competition, too faint for success, having -ceased, steam and smoke have everywhere usurped the once blooming -soil. From them, we are now a land of clouds,--murky clouds, to which -those of Aristophanes are but fanciful and brilliant exhalations. -Intersected by railroads, the iron age is restored, and the golden has -vanished for ever. The commonweal revolves on the axes of tramwheels and -trains; the reins of government are utterly relaxed; and the country, -saddled with taxes and burthens, can no longer afford its inhabitants -a single morsel. Engineers and speculators are bringing us to a dead -level everywhere; and a republic is the inevitable consequence. For -our parts, with the stomach of a horse, and loving beyond measure a -sound horse-laugh, emigration is our immediate purpose. By Strasburg -and Bologna will we wend our way, and endeavour to fathom the -sausage-wonder; and thence, if no better may be, we shall sail for the -Houyhnhnms' Land, (to the south of Lewin's and Nuyt's Land, and the west -of Maelsuyker's Isle), and, at all events, make our finale like Trojans, -by trusting to the horse! - -[70] _Quære_, rides and ties. - - - - - OUR SONG OF THE MONTH. - No. IV. April, 1837. - APRIL FOOLS. - - _Giojosamente! e con espressione burlesca._ - - [Music: April Fools] - - Now mer-ry Mo-mus rules - _A-pril fools! A-pril fools!_ - And with quirp and quil-let schools - _A-pril fools!_ - 'Tis the sea-son of the year, - When we hold it to be clear - That all, more or less, ap-pear - _A-pril fools! A-pril fools!_ - - Now, at every turn, we meet - _April fools! April fools!_ - In park, in square, and street, - _April fools!_ - Now "_pigeon's milk_" is sought, - "Useful knowledge" cheaply bought, - Pleasant lessons, too, are taught - _April fools! April fools!_ - - Now little boys are made - _April fools! April fools!_ - (By bigger boys betrayed,) - _April fools!_ - Now boys, the world calls "old," - Deceived by damsels bold, - Find out they are cajoled - _April fools! April fools!_ - - Now sportive nymphs beguile, - _April fools! April fools!_ - With gamesome trick and wile, - _April fools!_ - In vain the charming sex - Would their lovers' heart perplex, - They may cheat, but cannot vex - _April fools! April fools!_ - - Now Evans and his crew, - _April fools! April fools!_ - Find fighting will not do, - _April fools!_ - Now Sarsfield, Espartero, - And many a battered hero, - Place Spanish funds at zero, - _April fools! April fools!_ - - Now ministers are termed - _April fools! April fools!_ - And their titles are confirmed, - _April fools!_ - Now Whigs astute, kicked out, - Hear the deep derisive shout - Echo wide the land throughout, - _April fools! April fools!_ - - Now costermonger scribes-- - _April fools! April fools!_-- - Pen their dullest diatribes, - _April fools!_ - In Bentley's Magazine, - Alone, are to be seen - Wits, who scourge with satire keen - _April fools! April fools!_ - - Now readers, grave or gay, - _April fools! April fools!_ - We shall terminate our lay, - _April fools!_ - And we trust that you perceive, - We are laughing in our sleeve, - As these idle rhymes we weave, - _April fools! April fools!_ - - - - - OLIVER TWIST; - OR, THE PARISH BOY'S PROGRESS. - BY BOZ. - - ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. - - - CHAPTER THE FIFTH. - - OLIVER MINGLES WITH NEW ASSOCIATES, AND, GOING TO A FUNERAL FOR THE - FIRST TIME, FORMS AN UNFAVOURABLE NOTION OF HIS MASTER'S BUSINESS. - -Oliver, being left to himself in the undertaker's shop, set the lamp -down on a workman's bench, and gazed timidly about him with a feeling -of awe and dread, which many people a good deal older than Oliver will -be at no loss to understand. An unfinished coffin on black tressels, -which stood in the middle of the shop, looked so gloomy and death-like, -that a cold tremble came over him every time his eyes wandered in -the direction of the dismal object, from which he almost expected to -see some frightful form slowly rear its head to drive him mad with -terror. Against the wall were ranged in regular array a long row of -elm boards cut into the same shape, and looking in the dim light like -high-shouldered ghosts with their hands in their breeches pockets. -Coffin-plates, elm-chips, bright-headed nails, and shreds of black -cloth, lay scattered on the floor; and the wall above the counter was -ornamented with a lively representation of two mutes in very stiff -neckcloths, on duty at a large private door, with a hearse drawn by four -black steeds approaching in the distance. The shop was close and hot, -and the atmosphere seemed tainted with the smell of coffins. The recess -beneath the counter in which his flock-mattress was thrust, looked like -a grave. - -Nor were these the only dismal feelings which depressed Oliver. -He was alone in a strange place; and we all know how chilled and -desolate the best of us will sometimes feel in such a situation. The -boy had no friends to care for, or to care for him. The regret of no -recent separation was fresh in his mind; the absence of no loved and -well-remembered face sunk heavily into his heart. But his heart _was_ -heavy, notwithstanding; and he wished, as he crept into his narrow -bed, that that were his coffin, and that he could be laid in a calm -and lasting sleep in the churchyard ground, with the tall grass waving -gently above his head, and the sound of the old deep bell to soothe him -in his sleep. - -Oliver was awakened in the morning by a loud kicking at the outside -of the shop-door, which, before he could huddle on his clothes, was -repeated in an angry and impetuous manner about twenty-five times; and, -when he began to undo the chain, the legs left off their volleys, and a -voice began. - - [Illustration: Oliver plucks up a spirit.] - -"Open the door, will yer?" cried the voice which belonged to the legs -which had kicked at the door. - -"I will directly, sir," replied Oliver, undoing the chain, and turning -the key. - -"I suppose yer the new boy, a'nt yer?" said the voice, through the -key-hole. - -"Yes, sir," replied Oliver. - -"How old are yer?" inquired the voice. - -"Eleven, sir," replied Oliver. - -"Then I'll whop yer when I get in," said the voice; "you just see if -I don't, that's all, my work'us brat!" and, having made this obliging -promise, the voice began to whistle. - -Oliver had been too often subjected to the process to which the very -expressive monosyllable just recorded bears reference, to entertain -the smallest doubt that the owner of the voice, whoever he might be, -would redeem his pledge most honourably. He drew back the bolts with a -trembling hand, and opened the door. - -For a second or two, Oliver glanced up the street, and down the street, -and over the way, impressed with the belief that the unknown, who had -addressed him through the key-hole, had walked a few paces off to warm -himself, for nobody did Oliver see but a big charity-boy sitting on the -post in front of the house, eating a slice of bread and butter, which -he cut into wedges the size of his mouth with a clasp-knife, and then -consumed with great dexterity. - -"I beg your pardon, sir," said Oliver, at length, seeing that no other -visitor made his appearance; "did you knock?" - -"I kicked," replied the charity-boy. - -"Did you want a coffin, sir?" inquired Oliver, innocently. - -At this the charity-boy looked monstrous fierce, and said that Oliver -would stand in need of one before long, if he cut jokes with his -superiors in that way. - -"Yer don't know who I am, I suppose, work'us?" said the charity-boy, -in continuation; descending from the top of the post, meanwhile, with -edifying gravity. - -"No, sir," rejoined Oliver. - -"I'm Mister Noah Claypole," said the charity-boy, "and you're under me. -Take down the shutters, yer idle young ruffian!" With this Mr. Claypole -administered a kick to Oliver, and entered the shop with a dignified -air, which did him great credit: it is difficult for a large-headed, -small-eyed youth, of lumbering make and heavy countenance, to look -dignified under any circumstances; but it is more especially so, when, -superadded to these personal attractions, are a red nose and yellow -smalls. - -Oliver having taken down the shutters, and broken a pane of glass in -his efforts to stagger away beneath the weight of the first one to a -small court at the side of the house in which they were kept during the -day, was graciously assisted by Noah, who, having consoled him with the -assurance that "he'd catch it," condescended to help him. Mr. Sowerberry -came down soon after, and, shortly afterwards, Mrs. Sowerberry appeared; -and Oliver having "caught it," in fulfilment of Noah's prediction, -followed that young gentleman down stairs to breakfast. - -"Come near the fire, Noah," said Charlotte. "I saved a nice little piece -of bacon for you from master's breakfast. Oliver, shut that door at -Mister Noah's back, and take them bits that I've put out on the cover of -the bread-pan. There's your tea; take it away to that box, and drink it -there, and make haste, for they'll want you to mind the shop. D'ye hear?" - -"D'ye hear, work'us?" said Noah Claypole. - -"Lor, Noah!" said Charlotte, "what a rum creature you are! Why don't you -let the boy alone?" - -"Let him alone!" said Noah. "Why everybody lets him alone enough, for -the matter of that. Neither his father nor mother will ever interfere -with him: all his relations let him have his own way pretty well. Eh, -Charlotte? He! he! he!" - -"Oh, you queer soul!" said Charlotte, bursting into a hearty laugh, in -which she was joined by Noah; after which they both looked scornfully -at poor Oliver Twist, as he sat shivering upon the box in the coldest -corner of the room, and ate the stale pieces which had been specially -reserved for him. - -Noah was a charity-boy, but not a workhouse orphan. No chance-child was -he, for he could trace his genealogy back all the way to his parents, -who lived hard by; his mother being a washerwoman, and his father a -drunken soldier, discharged with a wooden leg and a diurnal pension of -twopence-halfpenny and an unstateable fraction. The shop-boys in the -neighbourhood had long been in the habit of branding Noah in the public -streets with ignominious epithets of "leathers," "charity," and the -like; and Noah had borne them without reply. But now that fortune had -cast in his way a nameless orphan, at whom even the meanest could point -the finger of scorn, he retorted on him with interest. This affords -charming food for contemplation. It shows us what a beautiful thing -human nature is, and how impartially the same amiable qualities are -developed in the finest lord and the dirtiest charity-boy. - -Oliver had been sojourning at the undertaker's some three weeks or a -month, and Mr. and Mrs. Sowerberry, the shop being shut up, were taking -their supper in the little back-parlour, when Mr. Sowerberry, after -several deferential glances at his wife, said, - -"My dear--" He was going to say more; but, Mrs. Sowerberry looking up -with a peculiarly unpropitious aspect, he stopped short. - -"Well!" said Mrs. Sowerberry, sharply. - -"Nothing, my dear, nothing," said Mr. Sowerberry. - -"Ugh, you brute!" said Mrs. Sowerberry. - -"Not at all, my dear," said Mr. Sowerberry, humbly. "I thought you -didn't want to hear, my dear. I was only going to say----" - -"Oh, don't tell me what you were going to say," interposed Mrs. -Sowerberry. "I am nobody; don't consult me, pray. _I_ don't want to -intrude upon your secrets." And, as Mrs. Sowerberry said this, she gave -an hysterical laugh, which threatened violent consequences. - -"But, my dear," said Sowerberry, "I want to ask your advice." - -"No, no, don't ask mine," replied Mrs. Sowerberry, in an affecting -manner; "ask somebody else's." Here there was another hysterical laugh, -which frightened Mr. Sowerberry very much. This is a very common and -much-approved matrimonial course of treatment, which is often very -effective. It at once reduced Mr. Sowerberry to begging as a special -favour to be allowed to say what Mrs. Sowerberry was most curious to -hear, and, after a short altercation of less than three quarters of an -hour's duration, the permission was most graciously conceded. - -"It's only about young Twist, my dear," said Mr. Sowerberry. "A very -good-looking boy that, my dear." - -"He need be, for he eats enough," observed the lady. - -"There's an expression of melancholy in his face, my dear," resumed Mr. -Sowerberry, "which is very interesting. He would make a delightful mute, -my dear." - -Mrs. Sowerberry looked up with an expression of considerable wonderment. -Mr. Sowerberry remarked it, and, without allowing time for any -observation on the good lady's part, proceeded, - -"I don't mean a regular mute to attend grown-up people, my dear, but -only for children's practice. It would be very new to have a mute in -proportion, my dear. You may depend upon it that it would have a superb -effect." - -Mrs. Sowerberry, who had a good deal of taste in the undertaking way, -was much struck by the novelty of the idea; but, as it would have been -compromising her dignity to have said so under existing circumstances, -she merely inquired with much sharpness why such an obvious suggestion -had not presented itself to her husband's mind before. Mr. Sowerberry -rightly construed this as an acquiescence in his proposition: it was -speedily determined that Oliver should be at once initiated into the -mysteries of the profession, and, with this view, that he should -accompany his master on the very next occasion of his services being -required. - -The occasion was not long in coming; for, half an hour after breakfast -next morning, Mr. Bumble entered the shop, and supporting his cane -against the counter, drew forth his large leathern pocket-book, from -which he selected a small scrap of paper which he handed over to -Sowerberry. - -"Aha!" said the undertaker, glancing over it with a lively countenance; -"an order for a coffin, eh?" - -"For a coffin first, and a porochial funeral afterwards," replied Mr. -Bumble, fastening the strap of the leathern pocket-book, which, like -himself, was very corpulent. - -"Bayton," said the undertaker, looking from the scrap of paper to Mr. -Bumble; "I never heard the name before." - -Bumble shook his head as he replied, "Obstinate people, Mr. Sowerberry, -very obstinate; proud, too, I'm afraid, sir." - -"Proud, eh?" exclaimed Mr. Sowerberry with a sneer.--"Come, that's too -much." - -"Oh, it's sickening," replied the beadle; "perfectly antimonial, Mr. -Sowerberry." - -"So it is," acquiesced the undertaker. - -"We only heard of them the night before last," said the beadle; "and we -shouldn't have known anything about them then, only a woman who lodges -in the same house made an application to the porochial committee for -them to send the porochial surgeon to see a woman as was very bad. He -had gone out to dinner; but his 'prentice, which is a very clever lad, -sent 'em some medicine in a blacking-bottle, off-hand." - -"Ah, there's promptness," said the undertaker. - -"Promptness, indeed!" replied the beadle. "But what's the consequence; -what's the ungrateful behaviour of these rebels, sir? Why, the husband -sends back word that the medicine won't suit his wife's complaint, and -so she shan't take it--says she shan't take it, sir. Good, strong, -wholesome medicine, as was given with great success to two Irish -labourers and a coalheaver only a week before--sent 'em for nothing, -with a blacking-bottle in,--and he sends back word that she shan't take -it, sir." - -As the flagrant atrocity presented itself to Mr. Bumble's mind in full -force, he struck the counter sharply with his cane, and became flushed -with indignation. - -"Well," said the undertaker, "I ne--ver--did----" - -"Never did, sir!" ejaculated the beadle,--"no, nor nobody never did; -but, now she's dead, we've got to bury her, and that's the direction, -and the sooner it's done, the better." - -Thus saying, Mr. Bumble put on his cocked-hat wrong side first, in a -fever of parochial excitement, and flounced out of the shop. - -"Why, he was so angry, Oliver, that he forgot even to ask after you," -said Mr. Sowerberry, looking after the beadle as he strode down the -street. - -"Yes, sir," replied Oliver, who had carefully kept himself out of -sight during the interview, and who was shaking from head to foot at -the mere recollection of the sound of Mr. Bumble's voice. He needn't -have taken the trouble to shrink from Mr. Bumble's glance, however; -for that functionary on whom the prediction of the gentleman in the -white waistcoat had made a very strong impression, thought that now the -undertaker had got Oliver upon trial, the subject was better avoided, -until such time as he should be firmly bound for seven years, and all -danger of his being returned upon the hands of the parish should be thus -effectually and legally overcome. - -"Well," said Mr. Sowerberry, taking up his hat, "the sooner this job -is done, the better. Noah, look after the shop. Oliver, put on your -cap, and come with me." Oliver obeyed; and followed his master on his -professional mission. - -They walked on for some time through the most crowded and densely -inhabited part of the town, and then striking down a narrow street more -dirty and miserable than any they had yet passed through, paused to look -for the house which was the object of their search. The houses on either -side were high and large, but very old; and tenanted by people of the -poorest class, as their neglected appearance would have sufficiently -denoted without the concurrent testimony afforded by the squalid looks -of the few men and women who, with folded arms and bodies half doubled, -occasionally skulked like shadows along. A great many of the tenements -had shop-fronts; but they were fast closed, and mouldering away: only -the upper rooms being inhabited. Others, which had become insecure -from age and decay, were prevented from falling into the street by -huge beams of wood which were reared against the tottering walls, and -firmly planted in the road; but even these crazy dens seemed to have -been selected as the nightly haunts of some houseless wretches, for many -of the rough boards which supplied the place of door and window, were -wrenched from their positions to afford an aperture wide enough for the -passage of a human body. The kennel was stagnant and filthy; the very -rats that here and there lay putrefying in its rottenness, were hideous -with famine. - -There was neither knocker nor bell-handle at the open door where Oliver -and his master stopped; so, groping his way cautiously through the -dark passage, and bidding Oliver keep close to him and not be afraid, -the undertaker mounted to the top of the first flight of stairs, and, -stumbling against a door on the landing, rapped at it with his knuckles. - -It was opened by a young girl of thirteen or fourteen. The undertaker at -once saw enough of what the room contained, to know it was the apartment -to which he had been directed. He stepped in, and Oliver followed him. - -There was no fire in the room; but a man was crouching mechanically over -the empty stove. An old woman, too, had drawn a low stool to the cold -hearth, and was sitting beside him. There were some ragged children in -another corner; and in a small recess opposite the door there lay upon -the ground something covered with an old blanket. Oliver shuddered as -he cast his eyes towards the place, and crept involuntarily closer to -his master; for, though it was covered up, the boy _felt_ that it was a -corpse. - -The man's face was thin and very pale; his hair and beard were grizzly, -and his eyes were blood-shot. The old woman's face was wrinkled, her two -remaining teeth protruded over her under lip, and her eyes were bright -and piercing. Oliver was afraid to look at either her or the man,--they -seemed so like the rats he had seen outside. - -"Nobody shall go near her," said the man, starting fiercely up, as the -undertaker approached the recess. "Keep back! d--n you, keep back, if -you've a life to lose." - -"Nonsense! my good man," said the undertaker, who was pretty well used -to misery in all its shapes,--"nonsense!" - -"I tell you," said the man, clenching his hands, and stamping furiously -on the floor,--"I tell you I won't have her put into the ground. She -couldn't rest there. The worms would worry--not eat her,--she is so worn -away." - -The undertaker offered no reply to this raving, but producing a tape -from his pocket, knelt down for a moment by the side of the body. - -"Ah!" said the man, bursting into tears, and sinking on his knees at the -feet of the dead woman; "kneel down, kneel down--kneel round her every -one of you, and mark my words. I say she starved to death. I never knew -how bad she was, till the fever came upon her, and then her bones were -starting through the skin. There was neither fire nor candle; she died -in the dark--in the dark. She couldn't even see her children's faces, -though we heard her gasping out their names. I begged for her in the -streets, and they sent me to prison. When I came back, she was dying; -and all the blood in my heart has dried up, for they starved her to -death. I swear it before the God that saw it,--they starved her!"--He -twined his hands in his hair, and with a loud scream rolled grovelling -upon the floor, his eyes fixed, and the foam gushing from his lips. - -The terrified children cried bitterly; but the old woman, who had -hitherto remained as quiet as if she had been wholly deaf to all that -passed, menaced them into silence; and having unloosened the man's -cravat, who still remained extended on the ground, tottered towards the -undertaker. - -"She was my daughter," said the old woman, nodding her head in the -direction of the corpse, and speaking with an idiotic leer, more ghastly -than even the presence of death itself.--"Lord, Lord!--well, it is -strange that I who gave birth to her, and was a woman then, should be -alive and merry now, and she lying there, so cold and stiff! Lord, -Lord!--to think of it;--it's as good as a play--as good as a play!" - -As the wretched creature mumbled and chuckled in her hideous merriment, -the undertaker turned to go away. - -"Stop, stop!" said the old woman in a loud whisper. "Will she be buried -to-morrow--or next day--or to-night? I laid her out, and I must walk, -you know. Send me a large cloak--a good warm one, for it is bitter -cold. We should have cake and wine, too, before we go! Never mind: send -some bread--only a loaf of bread and a cup of water. Shall we have some -bread, dear?" she said eagerly, catching at the undertaker's coat, as he -once more moved towards the door. - -"Yes, yes," said the undertaker, "of course; anything, everything." He -disengaged himself from the old woman's grasp, and, dragging Oliver -after him, hurried away. - -The next day, (the family having been meanwhile relieved with a -half-quartern loaf and a piece of cheese, left with them by Mr. Bumble -himself,) Oliver and his master returned to the miserable abode, where -Mr. Bumble had already arrived, accompanied by four men from the -workhouse, who were to act as bearers. An old black cloak had been -thrown over the rags of the old woman and the man; the bare coffin -having been screwed down, was then hoisted on the shoulders of the -bearers, and carried down stairs into the street. - -"Now, you must put your best leg foremost, old lady," whispered -Sowerberry in the old woman's ear; "we are rather late, and it won't do -to keep the clergyman waiting. Move on, my men,--as quick as you like." - -Thus directed, the bearers trotted on, under their light burden, and the -two mourners kept as near them as they could. Mr. Bumble and Sowerberry -walked at a good smart pace in front; and Oliver, whose legs were not as -long as his master's, ran by the side. - -There was not so great a necessity for hurrying as Mr. Sowerberry had -anticipated, however; for when they reached the obscure corner of the -churchyard in which the nettles grew, and the parish graves were made, -the clergyman had not arrived, and the clerk, who was sitting by the -vestry-room fire, seemed to think it by no means improbable that it -might be an hour or so before he came. So they set the bier down on the -brink of the grave; and the two mourners waited patiently in the damp -clay with a cold rain drizzling down, while the ragged boys, whom the -spectacle had attracted into the churchyard, played a noisy game at -hide-and-seek among the tombstones, or varied their amusements jumping -backwards and forwards over the coffin. Mr. Sowerberry and Bumble, being -personal friends of the clerk, sat by the fire with him, and read the -paper. - -At length, after the lapse of something more than an hour, Mr. Bumble, -and Sowerberry, and the clerk, were seen running towards the grave; -and immediately afterwards the clergyman appeared, putting on his -surplice as he came along. Mr Bumble then threshed a boy or two, to -keep up appearances; and the reverend gentleman, having read as much of -the burial service as could be compressed into four minutes, gave his -surplice to the clerk, and ran away again. - -"Now, Bill," said Sowerberry to the grave-digger, "fill up." - -It was no very difficult task, for the grave was so full that the -uppermost coffin was within a few feet of the surface. The grave-digger -shovelled in the earth, stamped it loosely down with his feet, -shouldered his spade, and walked off, followed by the boys, who murmured -very loud complaints at the fun being over so soon. - -"Come, my good fellow," said Bumble, tapping the man on the back, "they -want to shut up the yard." - -The man, who had never once moved since he had taken his station by -the grave side, started, raised his head, stared at the person who had -addressed him, walked forward for a few paces, and then fell down in a -fit. The crazy old woman was too much occupied in bewailing the loss of -her cloak (which the undertaker had taken off) to pay him any attention; -so they threw a can of cold water over him, and when he came to, saw him -safely out of the churchyard, locked the gate, and departed on their -different ways. - -"Well, Oliver," said Sowerberry, as they walked home, "how do you like -it?" - -"Pretty well, thank you, sir," replied Oliver, with considerable -hesitation. "Not very much, sir." - -"Ah, you'll get used to it in time, Oliver," said Sowerberry. "Nothing -when you _are_ used to it, my boy." - -Oliver wondered in his own mind whether it had taken a very long time to -get Mr. Sowerberry used to it; but he thought it better not to ask the -question, and walked back to the shop, thinking over all he had seen and -heard. - - - CHAPTER THE SIXTH. - - OLIVER, BEING GOADED BY THE TAUNTS OF NOAH, ROUSES INTO ACTION, - AND RATHER ASTONISHES HIM. - -It was a nice sickly season just at this time. In commercial phrase, -coffins were looking up; and, in the course of a few weeks, Oliver had -acquired a great deal of experience. The success of Mr. Sowerberry's -ingenious speculation exceeded even his most sanguine hopes. The -oldest inhabitants recollected no period at which measles had been so -prevalent, or so fatal to infant existence; and many were the mournful -processions which little Oliver headed in a hat-band reaching down -to his knees, to the indescribable admiration and emotion of all the -mothers in the town. As Oliver accompanied his master in most of his -adult expeditions too, in order that he might acquire that equanimity of -demeanour and full command of nerve which are so essential to a finished -undertaker, he had many opportunities of observing the beautiful -resignation and fortitude with which some strong-minded people bear -their trial and losses. - -For instance, when Sowerberry had an order for the burial of some -rich old lady or gentleman, who was surrounded by a great number of -nephews and nieces, who had been perfectly inconsolable during the -previous illness, and whose grief had been wholly irrepressible even -on the most public occasions, they would be as happy among themselves -as need be--quite cheerful and contented, conversing together with as -much freedom and gaiety as if nothing whatever had happened to disturb -them. Husbands, too, bore the loss of their wives with the most heroic -calmness; and wives, again, put on weeds for their husbands, as if, so -far from grieving in the garb of sorrow, they had made up their minds -to render it as becoming and attractive as possible. It was observable, -too, that ladies and gentlemen who were in passions of anguish during -the ceremony of interment, recovered almost as soon as they reached -home, and became quite composed before the tea-drinking was over. All -this was very pleasant and improving to see; and Oliver beheld it with -great admiration. - -That Oliver Twist was moved to resignation by the example of these good -people, I cannot, although I am his biographer, undertake to affirm -with any degree of confidence; but I can most distinctly say, that -for some weeks he continued meekly to submit to the domination and -ill-treatment of Noah Claypole, who used him far worse than ever, now -that his jealousy was roused by seeing the new boy promoted to the black -stick and hat-band, while he, the old one, remained stationary in the -muffin-cap and leathers. Charlotte treated him badly because Noah did; -and Mrs. Sowerberry was his decided enemy because Mr. Sowerberry was -disposed to be his friend: so, between these three on one side, and a -glut of funerals on the other, Oliver was not altogether as comfortable -as the hungry pig was, when he was shut up by mistake in the grain -department of a brewery. - -And now I come to a very important passage in Oliver's history, for I -have to record an act, slight and unimportant perhaps in appearance, -but which indirectly produced a most material change in all his future -prospects and proceedings. - -One day Oliver and Noah had descended into the kitchen, at the usual -dinner-hour, to banquet upon a small joint of mutton--a pound and a -half of the worst end of the neck; when, Charlotte being called out of -the way, there ensued a brief interval of time, which Noah Claypole, -being hungry and vicious, considered he could not possibly devote to a -worthier purpose than aggravating and tantalising young Oliver Twist. - -Intent upon this innocent amusement, Noah put his feet on the -table-cloth, and pulled Oliver's hair, and twitched his ears, and -expressed his opinion that he was a "sneak," and furthermore announced -his intention of coming to see him hung whenever that desirable event -should take place, and entered upon various other topics of petty -annoyance, like a malicious and ill-conditioned charity-boy as he was. -But, none of these taunts producing the desired effect of making Oliver -cry, Noah attempted to be more facetious still, and in this attempt -did what many small wits, with far greater reputations than Noah -notwithstanding, do to this day when they want to be funny;--he got -rather personal. - -"Work'us," said Noah, "how's your mother?" - -"She's dead," replied Oliver; "don't you say anything about her to me!" - -Oliver's colour rose as he said this; he breathed quickly, and there was -a curious working of the mouth and nostrils, which Mr. Claypole thought -must be the immediate precursor of a violent fit of crying. Under this -impression he returned to the charge. - -"What did she die of, work'us?" said Noah. - -"Of a broken heart, some of our old nurses told me," replied Oliver, -more as if he were talking to himself than answering Noah. "I think I -know what it must be to die of that!" - -"Tol de rol lol lol, right fol lairy, work'us," said Noah, as a tear -rolled down Oliver's cheek. "What's set you a snivelling now?" - -"Not _you_," replied Oliver, hastily brushing the tear away. "Don't -think it." - -"Oh, not me, eh?" sneered Noah. - -"No, not you," replied Oliver, sharply. "There; that's enough. Don't say -anything more to me about her; you'd better not!" - -"Better not!" exclaimed Noah. "Well! better not! work'us; don't be -impudent. _Your_ mother, too! She was a nice 'un, she was. Oh, Lor!" -And here Noah nodded his head expressively, and curled up as much of -his small red nose as muscular action could collect together for the -occasion. - -"Yer know, work'us," continued Noah, emboldened by Oliver's silence, -and speaking in a jeering tone of affected pity--of all tones the most -annoying--"Yer know, work'us, it carn't be helped now, and of course yer -couldn't help it then, and I'm very sorry for it, and I'm sure we all -are, and pity yer very much. But yer must know, work'us, your mother was -a regular right-down bad 'un." - -"What did you say?" inquired Oliver, looking up very quickly. - -"A regular right-down bad 'un, work'us," replied Noah, coolly; "and it's -a great deal better, work'us, that she died when she did, or else she'd -have been hard labouring in Bridewell, or transported, or hung, which is -more likely than either, isn't it?" - -Crimson with fury, Oliver started up, overthrew chair and table, seized -Noah by the throat, shook him in the violence of his rage till his teeth -chattered in his head, and, collecting his whole force into one heavy -blow, felled him to the ground. - -A minute ago the boy had looked the quiet, mild, dejected creature that -harsh treatment had made him. But his spirit was roused at last; the -cruel insult to his dead mother had set his blood on fire. His breast -heaved, his attitude was erect, his eye bright and vivid, and his whole -person changed, as he stood glaring over the cowardly tormentor that lay -crouching at his feet, and defied him with an energy he had never known -before. - -"He'll murder me!" blubbered Noah. "Charlotte! missis! here's the new -boy a-murdering me! Help! help! Oliver's gone mad! Char--lotte!" - -Noah's shouts were responded to, by a loud scream from Charlotte, and a -louder from Mrs. Sowerberry; the former of whom rushed into the kitchen -by a side-door, while the latter paused on the staircase till she was -quite certain that it was consistent with the preservation of human life -to come further down. - -"Oh, you little wretch!" screamed Charlotte, seizing Oliver with her -utmost force, which was about equal to that of a moderately strong -man in particularly good training,--"Oh, you little un-grate-ful, -mur-de-rous, hor-rid villain!" and between every syllable Charlotte gave -Oliver a blow with all her might, and accompanied it with a scream for -the benefit of society. - -Charlotte's fist was by no means a light one; but, lest it should not be -effectual in calming Oliver's wrath, Mrs. Sowerberry plunged into the -kitchen, and assisted to hold him with one hand, while she scratched his -face with the other; and in this favourable position of affairs Noah -rose from the ground, and pummeled him from behind. - -This was rather too violent exercise to last long; so, when they -were all three wearied out, and could tear and beat no longer, they -dragged Oliver, struggling and shouting, but nothing daunted, into -the dust-cellar, and there locked him up; and this being done, Mrs. -Sowerberry sunk into a chair, and burst into tears. - -"Bless her, she's going off!" said Charlotte. "A glass of water, Noah, -dear. Make haste." - -"Oh, Charlotte," said Mrs. Sowerberry, speaking as well as she could -through a deficiency of breath and a sufficiency of cold water, which -Noah had poured over her head and shoulders,--"Oh, Charlotte, what a -mercy we have not been all murdered in our beds!" - -"Ah, mercy, indeed, ma'am," was the reply. "I only hope this'll teach -master not to have any more of these dreadful creatures that are born to -be murderers and robbers from their very cradle. Poor Noah! he was all -but killed, ma'am, when I came in." - -"Ah, poor fellow!" said Mrs. Sowerberry, looking piteously on the -charity-boy. - -Noah, whose top waistcoat-button might have been somewhere on a level -with the crown of Oliver's head, rubbed his eyes with the inside of his -wrists while this commiseration was bestowed upon him, and performed -some very audible tears and sniffs. - -"What's to be done!" exclaimed Mrs. Sowerberry. "Your master's not at -home--there's not a man in the house,--and he'll kick that door down in -ten minutes." Oliver's vigorous plunges against the bit of timber in -question rendered this occurrence highly probable. - -"Dear, dear! I don't know, ma'am," said Charlotte, "unless we send for -the police-officers." - -"Or the millingtary," suggested Mr. Claypole. - -"No, no," said Mrs. Sowerberry, bethinking herself of Oliver's old -friend; "run to Mr. Bumble, Noah, and tell him to come here directly, -and not to lose a minute; never mind your cap,--make haste. You can hold -a knife to that black eye as you run along, and it'll keep the swelling -down." - -Noah stopped to make no reply, but started off at his fullest speed; -and very much it astonished the people who were out walking, to see a -charity-boy tearing through the streets pell-mell, with no cap on his -head, and a clasp-knife at his eye. - - - - - A CONTRADICTION. - - Bent upon extra thousands netting, - Graspall's the oddest mortal living! - His only object seems _for-getting_-- - How strange he should not be _for-giving_! - H. II. - - - - - THE GRAND CHAM OF TARTARY, AND THE HUMBLE-BEE. - - _Abridged from the voluminous - Epic Poem by Beg-beg (formerly a mendicant - ballad-singer, afterwards Principal Lord Rector - of the University of Samarcand, and subsequently - Historiographer and Poet Laureate to the Court of - Balk,) by C. J. Davids, Esq._ - - I. - The great Tartar chief, on a festival day, - Gave a spread to his court, and resolv'd to be gay; - But, just in the midst of their music and glee, - The mirth was upset by a humble-bee-- - A humble-bee-- - They were bored by a rascally _humble-bee_! - - II. - This riotous bee was so wanting in sense - As to fly at the Cham with malice prepense: - Said his highness, "My fate will be _felo-de-se_, - If I'm thus to be teas'd by a humble-bee-- - A humble-bee-- - How _shall_ I get rid of the humble-bee!" - - III. - The troops in attendance, with sabre and spear, - Were order'd to harass the enemy's rear: - But the brave body-guards were forced to flee-- - They were all so afraid of the humble-bee-- - The humble-bee-- - The soldiers were scar'd by the humble-bee. - - IV. - The solicitor-general thought there was reason - For indicting the scamp on a charge of high-treason; - While the chancellor _doubted_ if any decree - From the woolsack would frighten the humble-bee-- - The humble-bee-- - So the lawyers fought shy of the humble-bee. - - V. - The Cham from his throne in an agony rose, - While the insect was buzzing right under his nose:-- - "Was ever a potentate plagued like me, - Or worried to death by a humble-bee! - A humble-bee-- - Don't let me be stung by the humble-bee!" - - VI. - He said to a page, nearly choking with grief, - "Bring hither my valiant commander-in-chief; - And say that I'll give him a liberal fee, - To cut the throat of this humble-bee-- - This humble-bee-- - This turbulent, Jacobin, humble-bee!" - - VII. - His generalissimo came at the summons, - And, cursing the courtiers for cowardly _rum-uns_, - "My liege," said he, "it's all fiddle-de-dee - To make such a fuss for a humble-bee-- - A humble-bee-- - I don't care a d--n for the humble-bee!" - - VIII. - The veteran rush'd sword in hand on the foe, - And cut him in two with a desperate blow. - His master exclaim'd, "I'm delighted to see - How neatly you've settled the humble-bee!" - The humble-bee-- - So there was an end of the humble-bee. - - IX. - By the doctor's advice (which was prudent and right) - His highness retired very early that night: - For they got him to bed soon after his tea, - And he dream'd all night of the humble-bee-- - The humble-bee-- - He saw the grim ghost of the humble-bee. - - MORAL. - Seditious disturbers, mind well what you're _arter_-- - Lest, humming a prince, you by chance catch a _Tartar_. - Consider, when planning an impudent spree, - You may get the same luck as the humble-bee-- - The humble-bee-- - Remember the doom of the humble-bee! - - - - - THE DUMB WAITER. - - I can not really understand, - (Said Henry to his aunt,) - Why a dumb waiter this is called,-- - Upon my word, I can't; - For I have heard you often say - It _answers_ very well. - Why, then, the waiter is called _dumb_, - I cannot think, or tell. - - Between you, boy, this difference know,-- - For once attention lending,-- - While without _speaking_ this _attends_, - You _speak_ without _attending_. - - - - - FAMILY STORIES.--No. III. - - GREY DOLPHIN. - BY THOMAS INGOLDSBY, ESQ. - -"He won't--won't he? Then bring me my boots!" said the Baron. - -Consternation was at its height in the castle of Shurland--a caitiff had -dared to disobey the Baron! and--the Baron had called for his boots! - -A thunderbolt in the great hall had been a _bagatelle_ to it. - -A few days before, a notable miracle had been wrought in the -neighbourhood; and in those times miracles were not so common as -they are now:--no Royal Balloons, no steam, no railroads,--while the -few Saints who took the trouble to walk with their heads under their -arms, or pull the Devil by the nose, scarcely appeared above once in a -century:--so it made the greater sensation. - -The clock had done striking twelve, and the Clerk of Chatham was -untrussing his points preparatory to seeking his truckle-bed: a -half-emptied tankard of mild ale stood at his elbow, the roasted -crab yet floating on its surface. Midnight had surprised the worthy -functionary while occupied in discussing it, and with the task yet -unaccomplished. He meditated a mighty draught: one hand was fumbling -with his tags, while the other was extended in the act of grasping the -jorum, when a knock on the portal, solemn and sonorous, arrested his -fingers. It was repeated thrice ere Emanuel Saddleton had presence of -mind sufficient to inquire who sought admittance at that untimeous hour. - -"Open! open! good Clerk of St. Bridget's," said a female voice, small, -yet distinct and sweet,--"an excellent thing in woman." - -The clerk arose, crossed to the doorway, and undid the latchet. - -On the threshold stood a lady of surpassing beauty: her robes were -rich, and large, and full; and a diadem, sparkling with gems that shed -a halo around, crowned her brow: she beckoned the clerk as he stood in -astonishment before her. - -"Emanuel!" said the lady; and her tones sounded like those of a silver -flute. "Emanuel Saddleton, truss up your points, and follow me!" - -The worthy clerk stared aghast at the vision; the purple robe, the -cymar, the coronet,--above all, the smile;--no, there was no mistaking -her; it was the blessed St. Bridget herself! - -And what could have brought the sainted lady out of her warm shrine at -such a time of night? and on such a night? for it was as dark as pitch, -and, metaphorically speaking, "rained cats and dogs." - -Emanuel could not speak, so he looked the question. - -"No matter for that," said the Saint, answering to his thought. "No -matter for that, Emanuel Saddleton; only follow me, and you'll see." - -The clerk turned a wistful eye at the corner-cupboard. - -"Oh, never mind the lantern, Emanuel; you'll not want it: but you may -bring a mattock and shovel." As she spoke, the beautiful apparition held -up her delicate hand. From the tip of each of her long taper fingers -issued a lambent flame of such surpassing brilliancy as would have -plunged a whole gas company into despair--it was a "Hand of Glory," -such a one as tradition tells us yet burns in Rochester Castle every -St. Mark's Eve. Many are the daring individuals who have watched in -Gundulph's Tower, hoping to find it, and the treasure it guards;--but -none of them ever did. - -"This way, Emanuel!" and a flame of peculiar radiance streamed from her -little finger as it pointed to the pathway leading to the churchyard. - -Saddleton shouldered his tools, and followed in silence. - -The cemetery of St. Bridget's was some half-mile distant from the -clerk's domicile, and adjoined a chapel dedicated to that illustrious -lady, who, after leading but a so-so life, had died in the odour of -sanctity. Emanuel Saddleton was fat and scant of breath, the mattock was -heavy, and the saint walked too fast for him: he paused to take second -wind at the end of the first furlong. - -"Emanuel," said the holy lady good-humouredly, for she heard him -puffing; "rest a while, Emanuel, and I'll tell you what I want with you." - -Her auditor wiped his brow with the back of his hand, and looked all -attention and obedience. - -"Emanuel," continued she, "what did you and Father Fothergill, and the -rest of you, mean yesterday by burying that drowned man so close to me? -He died in mortal sin, Emanuel; no shrift, no unction, no absolution: -why, he might as well have been excommunicated. He plagues me with his -grinning, and I can't have any peace in my shrine. You must howk him up -again, Emanuel!" - -"To be sure, madam,--my lady,--that is, your holiness," stammered -Saddleton, trembling at the thought of the task assigned him. "To he -sure, your ladyship; only--that is--" - -"Emanuel," said the Saint, "you'll do my bidding; or it would be better -you had!" and her eye changed from a dove's eye to that of a hawk, and -a flash came from it as bright as the one from her little finger. The -Clerk shook in his shoes, and, again dashing the cold perspiration from -his brow, followed the footsteps of his mysterious guide. - - * * * * * - -The next morning all Chatham was in an uproar. The Clerk of St. -Bridget's had found himself at home at daybreak, seated in his own -arm-chair, the fire out, and--the tankard of ale quite exhausted. -Who had drunk it? Where had he been? How had he got home?--all was a -mystery: he remembered "a mass of things, but nothing distinctly;" all -was fog and fantasy. What he could clearly recollect was, that he had -dug up the grinning sailor, and that the Saint had helped to throw him -into the river again. All was thenceforth wonderment and devotion. -Masses were sung, tapers were kindled, bells were tolled; the monks -of St. Romuald had a solemn procession, the abbot at their head, the -sacristan at their tail, and the holy breeches of St. Thomas-à-Becket -in the centre; Father Fothergill brewed a XXX puncheon of holy-water. -The Rood of Gillingham was deserted; the chapel of Rainham forsaken; -every one who had a soul to be saved flocked with his offering to St. -Bridget's shrine, and Emanuel Saddleton gathered more fees from the -promiscuous piety of that one week than he had pocketed during the -twelve preceding months. - -Meanwhile the corpse of the ejected reprobate oscillated like a pendulum -between Sheerness and Gillingham Reach. Now borne by the Medway into the -Western Swale, now carried by the refluent tide back to the vicinity -of its old quarters, it seemed as though the River god and Neptune -were amusing themselves with a game of subaqueous battledore, and had -chosen this unfortunate carcass as a marine shuttlecock. For some time -the alternation was kept up with great spirit, till Boreas, interfering -in the shape of a stiffish "Nor'-wester," drifted the bone (and flesh) -of contention ashore on the Shurland domain, where it lay in all the -majesty of mud. It was soon discovered by the retainers, and dragged -from its oozy bed, grinning worse than ever. Tidings of the god-send -were of course carried instantly to the castle, for the Baron was a very -great man; and if a dun crow had flown across his property unannounced -by the warder, the Baron would have kicked him, the said warder, from -the topmost battlement into the bottommost ditch,--a descent of peril, -and one which "Ludwig the leaper," or the illustrious Trenk himself, -might well have shrunk from encountering. - -"An't please your lordship--" said Peter Periwinkle. - -"No, villain! it does not please me!" roared the Baron. - -His lordship was deeply engaged with a peck of Feversham oysters,--he -doted on shellfish, hated interruption at meals, and had not yet -despatched more than twenty dozen of the "natives." - -"There's a body, my lord, washed ashore in the lower creek," said the -seneschal. - -The Baron was going to throw the shells at his head; but paused in the -act, and said with much dignity, - -"Turn out the fellow's pockets!" - -But the defunct had before been subjected to the double scrutiny of -Father Fothergill and the Clerk of St. Bridget's. It was ill gleaning -after such hands; there was not a single marvedi. - -We have already said that Sir Ralph de Shurland, Lord of the Isle -of Sheppey, and of many a fair manor on the main-land, was a man of -worship. He had rights of freewarren, saccage and sockage, cuisage and -jambage, fosse and fork, infang theofe and outfang theofe; and all waifs -and strays belonged to him in fee simple. - -"Turn out his pockets!" said the Knight. - -"Please you, my lord, I must say as how they was turned out afore, and -the devil a rap's left." - -"Then bury the blackguard!" - -"Please your lordship, he has been buried once." - -"Then bury him again, and be----!" The Baron bestowed a benediction. - -The seneschal bowed low as he left the room, and the Baron went on with -his oysters. - -Scarce ten dozen more had vanished when Periwinkle reappeared. - -"An't please you, my lord, Father Fothergill says as how that it's the -Grinning Sailor, and he won't bury him anyhow." - -"Oh! he won't--won't he?" said the Baron. Can it be wondered at that he -called for his boots? - -Sir Ralph de Shurland, Lord of Shurland and Minster, Baron of Sheppey -_in comitatu_ Kent, was, as has been before hinted, a very great man. -He was also a very little man; that is, he was relatively great and -relatively little,--or physically little and metaphorically great,--like -Sir Sidney Smith and the late Mr. Bonaparte. To the frame of a dwarf he -united the soul of a giant and the valour of a gamecock. Then, for so -small a man, his strength was prodigious; his fist would fell an ox, and -his kick--oh! his kick was tremendous, and, when he had his boots on, -would,--to use an expression of his own, which he had picked up in the -holy wars,--would send a man from Jericho to June. He was bull-necked -and bandy-legged; his chest was broad and deep, his head large, and -uncommonly thick, his eyes a little blood-shot, and his nose _retrousé_ -with a remarkably red tip. Strictly speaking, the Baron could not be -called handsome; but his _tout ensemble_ was singularly impressive: and -when he called for his boots, everybody trembled, and dreaded the worst. - -"Periwinkle," said the Baron, as he encased his better leg, "let the -grave be twenty feet deep!" - -"Your lordship's command is law." - -"And, Periwinkle,"--Sir Ralph stamped his left heel into its -receptacle,--"and, Periwinkle, see that it be wide enough to hold not -exceeding two!" - -"Ye--ye--yes, my lord." - -"And, Periwinkle,--tell Father Fothergill I would fain speak with his -reverence." - -"Ye--ye--yes, my lord." - -The Baron's beard was picked, and his moustaches, stiff and stumpy, -projected horizontally like those of a Tom-cat; he twirled the one, -stroked the other, drew the buckle of his surcingle a thought tighter, -and strode down the great staircase three steps at a stride. - -The vassals were assembled in the great hall of Shurland Castle; every -cheek was pale, every tongue was mute, expectation and perplexity were -visible on every brow. What would his lordship do? Were the recusant -anybody else, gyves to the heels and hemp to the throat were but too -good for him: but it was Father Fothergill who had said "I won't;" and, -though the Baron was a very great man, the Pope was a greater, and the -Pope was Father Fothergill's great friend--some people said he was his -uncle. - -Father Fothergill was busy in the refectory trying conclusions with a -venison pasty, when he received the summons of his patron to attend him -in the chapel cemetery. Of course he lost no time in obeying it, for -obedience was the general rule in Shurland Castle. If anybody ever said -"I won't," it was the exception; and, like all other exceptions, only -proved the rule the stronger. The Father was a friar of the Augustine -persuasion; a brotherhood which, having been planted in Kent some few -centuries earlier, had taken very kindly to the soil, and overspread -the county much as hops did some few centuries later. He was plump and -portly, a little thick-winded, especially after dinner, stood five -feet four in his sandals, and weighed hard upon eighteen stone. He was -moreover a personage of singular piety; and the iron girdle, which, he -said, he wore under his cassock to mortify withal, might have been well -mistaken for the tire of a cart-wheel. When he arrived, Sir Ralph was -pacing up and down by the side of a newly-opened grave. - -"_Benedicite!_ fair son,"--(the Baron was as brown as a cigar,) ---"_Benedicite!_" said the chaplain. - -The Baron was too angry to stand upon compliment.--"Bury me that -grinning caitiff there!" quoth he, pointing to the defunct. - -"It may not be, fair son," said the Friar; "he hath perished without -absolution." - -"Bury the body!" roared Sir Ralph. - -"Water and earth alike reject him," returned the chaplain; "holy St. -Bridget herself----" - -"Bridget me no Bridgets! do me thine office quickly, Sir Shaveling; -or, by the piper that played before Moses!----" The oath was a fearful -one; and whenever the Baron swore to do mischief, he was never known -to perjure himself. He was playing with the hilt of his sword.--"Do me -thine office, I say. Give him his passport to heaven!" - -"He is already gone to hell!" stammered the friar. - -"Then do you go after him!" thundered the Lord of Shurland. - -His sword half leaped from its scabbard. No!--the trenchant blade that -had cut Suleiman Ben Malek Ben Buckskin from helmet to chine disdained -to daub itself with the cerebellum of a miserable monk: it leaped back -again; and as the chaplain, scared at its flash, turned him in terror, -the Baron gave him a kick!--one kick!--it was but one!--but such a one! -Despite its obesity, up flew his holy body in an angle of forty-five -degrees; then, having reached its highest point of elevation, sunk -headlong into the open grave that yawned to receive it. If the reverend -gentleman had possessed a neck, he had infallibly broken it; as he did -not, he only dislocated his vertebræ,--but that did quite as well. He -was as dead as ditch-water. - -"In with the other rascal!" said the Baron, and he was obeyed; for -there he stood in his boots. Mattock and shovel made short work of it; -twenty feet of superincumbent mould pressed down alike the saint and the -sinner. "Now sing a requiem who list!" said the Baron, and his lordship -went back to his oysters. - -The vassals at Castle Shurland were astounded, or, as the seneschal Hugh -better expressed it, "perfectly conglomerated," by this event. What! -murder a monk in the odour of sanctity,--and on consecrated ground too! -They trembled for the health of the Baron's soul. To the unsophisticated -many it seemed that matters could not have been much worse had he shot -a bishop's coach-horse;--all looked for some signal judgment. The -melancholy catastrophe of their neighbours at Canterbury was yet rife -in their memories: not two centuries had elapsed since those miserable -sinners had cut off the tail of St. Thomas's mule. The tail of the mule, -it was well known, had been forthwith affixed to that of the mayor; and -rumour said it had since been hereditary in the corporation. The least -that could be expected was, that Sir Ralph should have a friar tacked -on to his for the term of his natural life! Some bolder spirits there -were, 'tis true, who viewed the matter in various lights, according to -their different temperaments and dispositions; for perfect unanimity -existed not even in the good old times. The verderer, roistering Hob -Roebuck, swore roundly, "'Twere as good a deed as eat to kick down the -chapel as well as the monk."--Hob had stood there in a white sheet for -kissing Giles Miller's daughter.--On the other hand, Simpkin Agnew, -the bell-ringer, doubted if the devil's cellar, which runs under the -bottomless abyss, were quite deep enough for the delinquent, and -speculated on the probability of a hole being dug in it for his especial -accommodation. The philosophers and economists thought with Saunders -M'Bullock, the Baron's bagpiper, that "a feckless monk more or less -was nae great subject for a clamjamphry," especially as "the supply -considerably exceeded the demand;" while Malthouse, the tapster, was -arguing to Dame Martin that a murder now and then was a seasonable -check to population, without which the Isle of Sheppey would in time be -devoured, like a mouldy cheese, by inhabitants of its own producing. -Meanwhile, the Baron ate his oysters, and thought no more of the matter. - -But this tranquillity of his lordship was not to last. A couple of -Saints had been seriously offended; and we have all of us read at school -that celestial minds are by no means insensible to the provocations of -anger. There were those who expected that St. Bridget would come in -person, and have the friar up again as she did the sailor; but perhaps -her ladyship did not care to trust herself within the walls of Shurland -Castle. To say the truth, it was scarcely a decent house for a female -Saint to be seen in. The Baron's gallantries, since he became a widower, -had been but too notorious; and her own reputation was a little blown -upon in the earlier days of her earthly pilgrimage: then things were so -apt to be misrepresented: in short, she would leave the whole affair -to St. Austin, who, being a gentleman, could interfere with propriety, -avenge her affront as well as his own, and leave no loop-hole for -scandal. St. Austin himself seems to have had his scruples, though -of their precise nature it were difficult to determine, for it were -idle to suppose him at all afraid of the Baron's boots. Be this as it -may, the mode which he adopted was at once prudent and efficacious. As -an ecclesiastic, he could not well call the Baron out, had his boots -been out of the question; so he resolved to have recourse to the law. -Instead of Shurland Castle, therefore, he repaired forthwith to his own -magnificent monastery, situate just without the walls of Canterbury, -and presented himself in a vision to its abbot. No one who has ever -visited that ancient city can fail to recollect the splendid gateway -which terminates the vista of St. Paul's street, and stands there yet -in all its pristine beauty. The tiny train of miniature artillery which -now adorns its battlements is, it is true, an ornament of a later date; -and is said to have been added some centuries after by some learned -but jealous proprietor, for the purpose of shooting any wiser man than -himself who might chance to come that way. Tradition is silent as to any -discharge having taken place, nor can the oldest inhabitant of modern -days recollect any such occurrence. Here it was, in a handsome chamber, -immediately over the lofty archway, that the superior of the monastery -lay buried in a brief slumber snatched from his accustomed vigils. His -mitre--for he was a mitred abbot, and had a seat in parliament--rested -on a table beside him; near it stood a silver flagon of Gascony wine, -ready, no doubt, for the pious uses of the morrow. Fasting and watching -had made him more than usually somnolent, than which nothing could -have been better for the purpose of the Saint, who now appeared to him -radiant in all the colours of the rainbow. - -"Anselm!"--said the beatific vision,--"Anselm! are you not a pretty -fellow to lie snoring there, when your brethren are being knocked at -head, and Mother Church herself is menaced! It is a sin and a shame, -Anselm!" - -"What's the matter?--Who are you?" cried the Abbot, rubbing his eyes, -which the celestial splendour of his visiter had set a-winking. "Ave -Maria! St. Austin himself!--Speak, _Beatissime_! what would you with the -humblest of your votaries?" - -"Anselm!" said the Saint, "a brother of our order, whose soul Heaven -assoilzie! hath been foully murdered. He hath been ignominiously kicked -to the death, Anselm; and there he lieth cheek-by-jowl with a wretched -carcass, which our sister Bridget has turned out of her cemetery for -unseemly grinning. Arouse thee, Anselm!" - -"Ay, so please you, _Sanctissime_!" said the Abbot: "I will order -forthwith that thirty masses be said, thirty _Paters_, and thirty -_Aves_." - -"Thirty fools' heads!" interrupted his patron, who was a little peppery. - -"I will send for bell, book, and candle." - -"Send for an inkhorn, Anselm. Write me now a letter to his Holiness the -Pope in good round terms, and another to the coroner, and another to -the sheriff and seize me the never-enough-to-be-anathematised villain -who hath done this deed! Hang him as high as Haman, Anselm!--up with -him!--down with his dwelling-place, root and branch, hearth-stone and -roof-tree,--down with it all, and sow the site with salt and sawdust!" - -St. Austin, it will be perceived, was a radical reformer. - -"Marry will I," quoth the Abbot, warming with the Saint's eloquence; -"ay, marry will I, and that _instanter_. But there is one thing you have -forgotten, most Beatified--the name of the culprit." - -"Ralph de Shurland." - -"The Lord of Sheppey! Bless me!" said the Abbot, crossing himself, -"won't that be rather inconvenient? Sir Ralph is a bold baron and a -powerful; blows will come and go, and crowns will be cracked, and----" - -"What is that to you, since yours will not be of the number?" - -"Very true, _Beatissime_! I will don me with speed, and do your bidding." - -"Do so, Anselm!--fail not to hang the baron, burn his castle, confiscate -his estate, and buy me two large wax-candles for my own particular -shrine out of your share of the property." - -With this solemn injunction the vision began to fade. - -"One thing more!" cried the Abbot, grasping his rosary. - -"What is that?" asked the Saint. - -"_O Beate Augustine, ora pro nobis!_" - -"Of course I shall," said St. Austin. "_Pax vobiscum!_"--and Abbot -Anselm was left alone. - -Within an hour all Canterbury was in commotion. A friar had been -murdered,--two friars--ten--twenty; a whole convent had been -assaulted,--sacked,--burnt,--all the monks had been killed, and all -the nuns had been kissed! Murder!--fire!--sacrilege! Never was city in -such an uproar. From St. George's gate to St. Dunstan's suburb, from -the Donjon to the borough of Staplegate, all was noise and hubbub. -"Where was it?"--"When was it?"--"How was it?" The Mayor caught up his -chain, the Aldermen donned their furred gowns, the Town-clerk put on his -spectacles. "Who was he?"--"What was he?"--"Where was he?"--he should -be hanged,--he should be burned,--he should be broiled,--he should be -fried,--he should be scraped to death with red-hot oyster-shells! "Who -was he?"--"What was his name?" - -The abbot's Apparitor drew forth his roll and read aloud: "Sir Ralph de -Shurland, Knight banneret, Baron of Shurland and Minster, and Lord of -Sheppey." - -The Mayor put his chain in his pocket, the Aldermen took off their -gowns, the Town-clerk put his pen behind his ear,--It was a county -business altogether: the Sheriff had better call out the _posse -comitatus_. - -While saints and sinners were thus leaguing against him, the Baron de -Shurland was quietly eating his breakfast. He had passed a tranquil -night, undisturbed by dreams of cowl or capuchin; nor was his appetite -more affected than his conscience. On the contrary, he sat rather -longer over his meal than usual; luncheon-time came, and he was ready -as ever for his oysters; but scarcely had Dame Martin opened his first -half-dozen when the warder's horn was heard from the barbican. - -"Who the devil's that?" said Sir Ralph. "I'm not at home, Periwinkle. I -hate to be disturbed at meals, and I won't be at home to anybody." - -"An't please your lordship," answered the seneschal, "Paul Prior hath -given notice that there is a body----" - -"Another body!" roared the Baron. "Am I to be everlastingly plagued with -bodies? No time allowed me to swallow a morsel. Throw it into the moat!" - -"So please you, my lord, it is a body of horse,--and--and Paul says -there is a still larger body of foot behind it; and he thinks, my -lord,--that is, he does not know, but he thinks--and we all think, my -lord, that they are coming to--to besiege the castle!" - -"Besiege the castle! Who? What? What for?" - -"Paul says, my lord, that he can see the banner of St. Austin, and the -bleeding heart of Hamo de Crevecoeur, the abbot's chief vassal; and -there is John de Northwood, the sheriff, with his red-cross engrailed; -and Hever, and Leybourne, and Heaven knows how many more; and they are -all coming on as fast as ever they can." - -"Periwinkle," said the Baron, "up with the drawbridge; down with the -portcullis; bring me a cup of canary, and my night-cap. I won't be -bothered with them. I shall go to bed." - -"To bed, my lord!" cried Periwinkle, with a look that seemed to say, -"He's crazy." - -At this moment the shrill tones of a trumpet were heard to sound thrice -from the champaign. It was the signal for parley: the Baron changed his -mind; instead of going to bed, he went to the ramparts. - -"Well, rapscallions! and what now?" said the Baron. - -A herald, two pursuivants, and a trumpeter, occupied the foreground of -the scene; behind them, some three hundred paces off, upon a rising -ground, was drawn up in battle-array the main body of the ecclesiastical -forces. - -"Hear you, Ralph de Shurland, Knight, Baron of Shurland and Minster, and -Lord of Sheppey, and know all men, by these presents, that I do hereby -attach you, the said Ralph, of murder and sacrilege, now, or of late, -done and committed by you, the said Ralph, contrary to the peace of our -Sovereign Lord the King, his crown and dignity: and I do hereby require -and charge you, the said Ralph, to forthwith surrender and give up your -own proper person, together with the castle of Shurland aforesaid, in -order that the same may be duly dealt with according to law. And here -standeth John de Northwood, Esquire, good man and true, sheriff of this -his majesty's most loyal county of Kent, to enforce the same, if need -be, with his _posse comitatus_." - -"His what?" said the Baron. - -"His _posse comitatus_, and----" - -"Go to Bath!" said the Baron. - -A defiance so contemptuous roused the ire of the adverse commanders. -A volley of missiles rattled about the Baron's ears. Night-caps avail -little against contusions. He left the walls, and returned to the great -hall. - -"Let them pelt away," quoth the Baron; "there are no windows to break, -and they can't get in." So he took his afternoon nap, and the siege went -on. - -Towards evening his lordship awoke, and grew tired of the din. Guy -Pearson, too, had got a black eye from a brick-bat, and the assailants -were clambering over the outer wall. So the Baron called for his Sunday -hauberk of Milan steel, and his great two-handed sword with the terrible -name:--it was the fashion in feudal times to give names to swords; King -Arthur's was christened Excalibar; the Baron called his Tickletoby, and -whenever he took it in hand it was no joke. - -"Up with the portcullis! down with the bridge!" said Sir Ralph; and out -he sallied, followed by the _élite_ of his retainers. Then there was -a pretty to-do. Heads flew one way--arms and legs another; round went -Tickletoby, and, wherever it alighted, down came horse and man: the -Baron excelled himself that day. All that he had done in Palestine faded -in the comparison; he had fought for fun there, but now it was for life -and lands. Away went John de Northwood; away went William of Hever, and -Roger of Leybourne. Hamo de Crevecoeur, with the church vassals and -the banner of St. Austin, had been gone some time. The siege was raised, -and the Lord of Sheppey left alone in his glory. - -But, brave as the Baron undoubtedly was, and total as had been the -defeat of his enemies, it cannot be supposed that _La Stoccata_ would -be allowed to carry it away thus. It has before been hinted that Abbot -Anselm had written to the Pope, and Boniface the Eighth piqued himself -on his punctuality as a correspondent in all matters connected with -church discipline. He sent back an answer by return of post; and by it -all Christian people were strictly enjoined to aid in exterminating the -offender, on pain of the greater excommunication in this world, and a -million of years of purgatory in the next. But then, again, Boniface the -Eighth was rather at a discount in England just then. He had affronted -Longshanks, as the loyal lieges had nicknamed their monarch; and -Longshanks had been rather sharp upon the clergy in consequence. If the -Baron de Shurland could but get the King's pardon for what in his cooler -moments he admitted to be a peccadillo, he might sniff at the Pope, and -bid him "do his devilmost." - -Fortune, who, as the poet says, delights to favour the bold, stood his -friend on this occasion. Edward had been, for some time, collecting a -large force on the coast of Kent, to carry on his French wars for the -recovery of Guienne; he was expected shortly to review it in person; -but, then, the troops lay principally in cantonments about the mouth of -the Thames, and his majesty was to come down by water. What was to be -done?--the royal barge was in sight, and John de Northwood and Hamo de -Crevecoeur had broken up all the boats to boil their camp-kettles. A -truly great mind is never without resources. - -"Bring me my boots!" said the Baron. - -They brought him his boots, and his dapple-grey steed along with them. -Such a courser! all blood and bone, short-backed, broad-chested, and, -but that he was a little ewe-necked, faultless in form and figure. The -Baron sprang upon his back, and dashed at once into the river. - -The barge which carried Edward Longshanks and his fortunes had by this -time nearly reached the Nore; the stream was broad and the current -strong, but Sir Ralph and his steed were almost as broad, and stronger. -After breasting the tide gallantly for a couple of miles, the Knight was -near enough to hail the steersman. - -"What have we got here?" said the king. "It's a mermaid," said one. -"It's a grampus," said another. "It's the devil," said a third. But they -were all wrong; it was only Ralph de Shurland. "Grammercy," quoth the -king, "that fellow was never born to be drowned!" - -It has been said before that the Baron had fought in the holy wars; in -fact, he had accompanied Longshanks, when only heir-apparent, in his -expedition twenty-five years before, although his name is unaccountably -omitted by Sir Harris Nicolas in his list of crusaders. He had been -present at Acre when Amirand of Joppa stabbed the prince with a -poisoned dagger, and had lent Princess Eleanor his own toothbrush after -she had sucked out the venom from the wound. He had slain certain -Saracens, contented himself with his own plunder, and never dunned the -commissariat for arrears of pay. Of course he ranked high in Edward's -good graces, and had received the honour of knighthood at his hands on -the field of battle. - -In one so circumstanced it cannot be supposed that such a trifle as the -killing a frowzy friar would be much resented, even had he not taken -so bold a measure to obtain his pardon. His petition was granted, of -course, as soon as asked; and so it would have been had the indictment -drawn up by the Canterbury town-clerk, viz. "That he, the said Ralph de -Shurland, &c. had then and there, with several, to wit, one thousand, -pair of boots, given sundry, to wit, two thousand, kicks, and therewith -and thereby killed divers, to wit, ten thousand, Austin friars," been -true to the letter. - -Thrice did the gallant Grey circumnavigate the barge, while Robert -de Winchelsey, the chancellor, and archbishop to boot, was making -out, albeit with great reluctance, the royal pardon. The interval was -sufficiently long to enable his majesty, who, gracious as he was, had -always an eye to business, just to hint that the gratitude he felt -towards the Baron was not unmixed with a lively sense of services to -come; and that, if life was now spared him, common decency must oblige -him to make himself useful. Before the archbishop, who had scalded his -fingers with the wax in affixing the great seal, had time to take them -out of his mouth, all was settled, and the Baron de Shurland, _cum -suis_, had pledged himself to be forthwith in readiness to accompany his -liege lord to Guienne. - -With the royal pardon secured in his vest, boldly did his lordship turn -again to the shore; and as boldly did his courser oppose his breadth of -chest to the stream. It was a work of no common difficulty or danger; a -steed of less "mettle and bone" had long since sunk in the effort: as it -was, the Baron's boots were full of water, and Grey Dolphin's chamfrain -more than once dipped beneath the wave. The convulsive snorts of the -noble animal showed his distress; each instant they became more loud -and frequent; when his hoof touched the strand, and "the horse and his -rider" stood again in safety on the shore. - -Rapidly dismounting, the Baron was loosening the girths of his -demi-pique, to give the panting animal breath, when he was aware of as -ugly an old woman as he ever clapped eyes upon, peeping at him under the -horse's belly. - -"Make much of your steed, Ralph Shurland! Make much of your steed!" -cried the hag, shaking at him her long and bony finger. "Groom to the -hide, and corn to the manger. He has saved your life, Ralph Shurland, -for the nonce; but he shall yet be the means of your losing it, for all -that!" - -The Baron started: "What's that you say, you old faggot?" He ran round -by his horse's tail; the women was gone! - -The Baron paused; his great soul was not to be shaken by trifles; he -looked around him, and solemnly ejaculated the word "Humbug!" then, -slinging the bridle across his arm, walked slowly on in the direction of -the castle. - -The appearance, and still more, the disappearance of the crone, -had however made an impression; every step he took he became more -thoughtful. "'Twould be deuced provoking though, if he _should_ break my -neck after all!" He turned, and gazed at Dolphin with the scrutinizing -eye of a veterinary surgeon.--"I'll be shot if he is not groggy!" said -the Baron. - -With his lordship, like another great Commander, "Once to be in doubt, -was once to be resolved:" it would never do to go to the wars on a -rickety prad. He dropped the rein, drew forth Tickletoby, and, as the -enfranchised Dolphin, good easy horse, stretched out his ewe-neck to the -herbage, struck off his head at a single blow. "There, you lying old -beldame!" said the Baron; "now take him away to the knackers." - - * * * * * - -Three years were come and gone. King Edward's French wars were over; -both parties, having fought till they came to a stand-still, shook -hands; and the quarrel, as usual, was patched up by a royal marriage. -This happy event gave his majesty leisure to turn his attention to -Scotland, where things, through the intervention of William Wallace, -were looking rather queerish. As his reconciliation with Philip now -allowed of his fighting the Scotch in peace and quietness, the monarch -lost no time in marching his long legs across the border, and the short -ones of the Baron followed him of course. At Falkirk, Tickletoby was in -great request; and, in the year following, we find a contemporary poet -hinting at its master's prowess under the walls of Caerlaverock, - - Obec eus fu achiminez - Li beau Rafe de Shurlande - Ki kant seoit sur le cheval - Ne sembloit home le someille. - -A quatrain which Mr. Simpkinson translates, - - "With them was marching - The good Ralph de Shurland, - Who, when seated on horseback, - Does not resemble a man asleep!" - -So thoroughly awake, indeed, does he seem to have proved himself, that -the bard subsequently exclaims, in an ecstasy of admiration, - - Si ie estoie une pucellette - Je li donroie ceur et cors - Tant est de lu bons lí recors. - - "If I were a young maiden, - I would give him my heart and person, - So great is his fame!" - -Fortunately the poet was a tough old monk of Exeter; since such a -present to a nobleman, now in his grand climacteric, would hardly have -been worth the carriage. With the reduction of this stronghold of the -Maxwells seem to have concluded the Baron's military services; as on -the very first day of the fourteenth century we find him once more -landed on his native shore, and marching, with such of his retainers -as the wars had left him, towards the hospitable shelter of Shurland -Castle. It was then, upon that very beach, some hundred yards distant -from high-water mark, that his eye fell upon something like an ugly -old woman in a red cloak. She was seated on what seemed to be a large -stone, in an interesting attitude, with her elbows resting upon her -knees and her chin upon her thumbs. The Baron started: the remembrance -of his interview with a similar personage in the same place, some three -years since, flashed upon his recollection. He rushed towards the spot, -but the form was gone; nothing remained but the seat it had appeared -to occupy. This, on examination, turned out to be no stone, but the -whitened skull of a dead horse. A tender remembrance of the deceased -Grey Dolphin shot a momentary pang into the Baron's bosom; he drew the -back of his hand across his face; the thought of the hag's prediction -in an instant rose, and banished all softer emotions. In utter contempt -of his own weakness, yet with a tremor that deprived his redoubtable -kick of half its wonted force, he spurned the relic with his foot. One -word alone issued from his lips elucidatory of what was passing in -his mind,--it long remained imprinted on the memory of his faithful -followers,--that word was "Gammon!" The skull bounded across the beach -till it reached the very margin of the stream;--one instant more, and -it would be engulfed for ever. At that moment a loud "Ha! ha! ha!" was -distinctly heard by the whole train to issue from its bleached and -toothless jaws: it sank beneath the flood in a horse-laugh! - -Meanwhile Sir Ralph de Shurland felt an odd sort of sensation in his -right foot. His boots had suffered in the wars. Great pains had been -taken for their preservation. They had been "soled" and "heeled" more -than once;--had they been "galoshed," their owner might have defied -Fate! Well has it been said that "there is no such thing as a trifle." -A nobleman's life depended upon a question of ninepence. - -The Baron marched on; the uneasiness in his foot increased. He plucked -off his boot; a horse's tooth was sticking in his great toe! - -The result may be anticipated. Lame as he was, his lordship, with -characteristic decision would hobble on to Shurland; his walk increased -the inflammation; a flagon of _aqua vitæ_ did not mend matters. He was -in a high fever; he took to his bed. Next morning the toe presented the -appearance of a Bedfordshire carrot; by dinner-time it had deepened -to beetroot; and when Bargrave, the leech, at last sliced it off, the -gangrene was too confirmed to admit of remedy. Dame Martin thought it -high time to send for Miss Margaret, who, ever since her mother's death, -had been living with her maternal aunt, the abbess, in the Ursuline -convent of Greenwich. The young lady came, and with her came one Master -Ingoldsby, her cousin-german by the mother's side; but the Baron was -too far gone in the deadthraw to recognise either. He died as he lived, -unconquered and unconquerable. His last words were--"Tell the old hag -to go to ----." Whither remains a secret. He expired without fully -articulating the place of her destination. - -But who and what was the crone who prophesied the catastrophe? Ay, -"that is the mystery of this wonderful history."--Some said it was Dame -Fothergill, the late confessor's mamma; others, St. Bridget herself; -others thought it was nobody at all, but only a phantom conjured up by -Conscience. As we do not know, we decline giving an opinion. - -And what became of the Clerk of Chatham? Mr. Simpkinson avers than he -lived to a good old age, and was at last hanged by Jack Cade, with his -inkhorn about his neck, for "setting boys copies." In support of this -he adduces his name "Emanuel," and refers to the historian Shakspeare. -Mr. Peters, on the contrary, considers this to be what he calls one of -Mr. Simpkinson's "Anacreonisms," inasmuch as, at the introduction of Mr. -Cade's reform measure, the clerk would have been hard upon two hundred -years old. The probability is, that the unfortunate alluded to was his -great-grandson. - -Margaret Shurland in due course became Margaret Ingoldsby, her portrait -still hangs in the gallery at Tappington. The features are handsome, but -shrewish, betraying, as it were, a touch of the old Baron's temperament; -but we never could learn that she actually kicked her husband. She -brought him a very pretty fortune in chains, owches, and Saracen -ear-rings; the barony, being a male fief, reverted to the crown. - -In the abbey-church at Minster may yet be seen the tomb of a recumbent -warrior, clad in the chain-mail of the 13th century. His hands are -clasped in prayer; his legs, crossed in that position so prized by -Templars in ancient, and tailors in modern, days, bespeak him a soldier -of the Faith in Palestine. Close to his great-toe, lies sculptured in -bold relief a horse's head; and a respectable elderly lady, as she shows -the monument, fails not to read her auditors a fine moral lesson on the -sin of ingratitude, or to claim a sympathising tear to the memory of -poor "Grey Dolphin!" - - - - - FRIAR LAURENCE AND JULIET. - BY THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY. - - _Friar._ - Who is calling Friar Laurence? - --Madam Juliet! how d'ye do? - Dear me--talk of the--beg pardon-- - I've been talking about _you_. - Mistress Montagu, they tell me - You on Thursday mean to wed! - It is strange you never told me - That poor Mister M. was dead! - - _Juliet._ - M.'s alive! yet County Paris - I'm to marry, people say! - (I shall marry the whole county - If I go on in this way:) - Once you've wedded me already, - If I wed again, you see, - Though in _you_ a _little_ error, - 'Twill be very _big o' me_. - - _Friar._ - 'Pon my life, it's very awkward! - I'll on some expedient hit; - If you'll find me ready money, - I will find you ready wit: - I can't let you wed a second - Ere I know the first has died; - Think of faggots! for such deeds, ma'am, - Holy friars have been fried! - - _Juliet._ - 'Tan't my wish, sir, nor intention,-- - Any scheme of yours I'll hail; - To escape from County Paris, - Put me in the county jail: - Kill me dead! and make me food for - Earthworm, viper, toad, or rat; - Make a widower of Ro-me- - -O,--('twill _hurt_ me to do that!) - - _Friar._ - If you've really resolution - That your life-blood should be spilt, - I will save you, for I'll have you - Not quite killed, but merely _kilt_: - Could you in a vault be buried-- - Horizontal--in a niche? - And of death so good a copy, - None could find out which is which? - - _Juliet._ - I would vault into a vault, sir, - With a dead man in his shroud; - I'd do any dirty work, sir, - Though my family's so proud! - I'll do whatsoe'er you bid me, - 'Till you say I've done enough: - Nay, sir, much as I dislike it, - I'll take 'poticary's stuff! - - _Friar._ - Then go home, ma'am, and be merry; - Say that Paris you will wed; - Tell your nurse you've got a headache, - And go quietly to bed: - Ask for something warm,--some negus, - Grog, or gruel, or egg-flip, - Put in this, and then drink quickly,-- - 'Tis so nauseous if you sip. - - _Juliet._ - Give, oh! give me quick the phial, - From the trial I'll not shrink,-- - Is it shaken when it's taken? - Gracious me! it's black as ink! - There's no fear, I trust, of failure?-- - No--I doubt not its effect; - From your conversation's _tenor_ - No base phial I expect. - - _Friar._ - You will have the bridegroom _follow_, - Where he generally _leads_; - 'Stead of hymeneal flowers, - He will wear sepulchral weeds: - _I_ to Romeo will quickly - Write a letter by the post; - He will wake you, and should Paris - Meet you,--say you are your ghost! - - _Juliet._ - 'Tis an excellent arrangement, - As you bid me I will act; - But within the tomb, dear friar, - Place a basket nicely pack'd;-- - Just a loaf, a tongue, a chicken, - Port and sherry, and some plums; - It will _really_ be a comfort - Should I wake e'er Romeo comes! - - - - - CHAPTER IN THE LIFE OF A STATESMAN, - BEING INEDITED LETTERS OF ADDISON. - NOW FIRST PRINTED FROM THE AUTOGRAPH ORIGINALS. - -The following letters, which have never before been published, are -exceedingly curious, as exhibiting Addison in a new point of view, and -as displaying traits in that celebrated man's character, differing -very materially from those which his biographers have recorded. They -are addressed to Charles Montague, Earl of Halifax, and to Monsieur -Robethon, secretary to the Elector of Hanover, afterwards George -the First of England. They represent Addison as eager for place and -pension, yearning after pecuniary reward, dwelling upon services -unrequited, urging his utmost interest to procure some new emoluments, -and discontentedly comparing his own condition with that of other more -fortunate placemen. Leaving the letters to speak for themselves, it is -only necessary to add that they are accompanied by a few notes which -furnish some new data in the family history of the writer. - - - TO CHARLES MONTAGUE, EARL OF HALIFAX. - - Dublin Castle, May 7, 1709. - MY LORD,--I am glad of any occasion of paying my - duty to your lordship, and therefore cannot but lay - hold of this, in transmitting to your lordship our - Lord Lieutenant's[71] speech at the opening of the - parliament, with a couple of addresses from the House - of Commons upon that occasion. Your lordship will see - by them that all parties have set out in good-humour, - which is entirely owing to his excellency's conduct, - who has addressed himself so all sorts of men since - his arrival here, with unspeakable application. They - were under great apprehensions, at his first coming, - that he would drive directly at repealing the Test, - and had formed themselves into a very strong body for - its defence; but, as their minds are at present pretty - quiet upon that head, they appear willing to enter into - all other measures that he would have them. Had he - proceeded otherwise, it is easie to see that all things - would have been thrown into the utmost confusion, and - a stop put to all public business. His excellency, - however, gains ground daily; and I question not but in - a new parliament, where parties are not settled and - confirmed, he will be able to lead them into any thing - that will be for their real interests and advantage. - - I have the happiness every day to drink - your lordship's health in very good wine,[72] and with - very honest gentlemen; and am ever, with the greatest - respect, my lord, Your lordship's most obedient and - most humble servant, - J. ADDISON. - -[71] Thomas Wharton, Earl of Wharton, appointed Lord Lieutenant of -Ireland, April 21, 1709. How Addison became the secretary of this -Verres, as delineated by Swift,--or how Wharton, who professed to think -virtue to be only a name, and would not have given a guinea as the -purchase-price of the best reputation, obtained the appointment of the -Queen's vicegerent in Ireland,--would be matters of perfect astoundment, -were it not known that Wharton forced himself upon Lord Godolphin, by -showing him a treasonable letter of that lord's to the abdicated family, -of which he had contrived to become the possessor. Wharton's vice-regal -power was but of short duration; he was recalled: Lords Justices were -appointed in the September of the same year, and Wharton returned to -England to make a bad use of the letter. Godolphin had, however, been -too cunning for him, and procured an act of grace in his absence, which -enabled him to set the vengeance of the Lord Lieutenant at defiance. As -an apology for Addison's serving under such a man, it may be urged, that -the acceptance of the office so proffered implied no approbation of his -crimes; and that a subordinate officer is under no obligation to examine -the opinions or conduct of those under whom he acts, excepting that he -may not be made the actual tool of his atrocities or crimes. - -[72] Addison's habitual taciturnity and fondness for the bottle are well -known. There is a story, not yet forgotten, that the profligate Duke of -Wharton, who was, perhaps, only the reputed or imputed son of this earl, -afterwards Marquis of Wharton, once at table plied Addison so briskly -with wine, in order to make him talk, that he could not retain it in his -stomach. His grace is said to have observed, that "he could get wine, -but not wit out of him." - - - TO M. DE ROBETHON, SECRETARY TO THE ELECTOR OF HANOVER. - - St. James's, Sept. 4, 1714. - SIR,--I have been obliged to so close an attendance - on the Lords Justices, and have had so very little - time at my own disposal during my absence from their - excellencies, that I could not do myself the honour - before now, to assure you of my respects, and to - beg the continuance of that friendship which you - formerly honoured me with, at Hanover.[73] I cannot - but extremely rejoice at the occasion, which will give - me on opportunity of waiting on you in England, where - you will find a whole nation in the highest joy, and - thoroughly sensible of the great blessings which they - promise themselves from his Majesty's accession to the - throne. - - I take the liberty to send you, enclosed, - a poem written on this occasion by one of our most - eminent hands, which is indeed a masterpiece in its - kind; and, though very short, has touched upon all - the topics which are most popular among us. I have - likewise transmitted to you, a copy of the preamble to - the Prince of Wales's patent, which was a very grateful - task imposed upon me by the Lords Justices. Their - excellencies have ordered that the lords and others who - meet his Majesty, be out of mourning that day, as also - their coaches; but all servants, except those of the - City magistrates, to be in mourning. The shortness of - the time, which would not be sufficient for the making - of new liveries, occasioned this last order. - - The removal of the Lord Bolingbroke[74] has - put a seasonable check to an interest that was making - in many places for members in the next parliament; and - was very much relished by the people, who ascribed to - him, in a great measure, the decay of trade and public - credit. - - You will do me a very great honour if you - find means submissive enough to make the humble offers - of my duty acceptable to his Majesty. May God Almighty - preserve his person, and continue him for many years - the blessing of these kingdoms! I am, with great esteem - and respect, Sir, your most obedient and most humble - servant, - J. ADDISON. - -[73] Lord Godolphin conferred on Addison, as a reward for his poem -entitled _The Campaign_, commemorative of the battle of Blenheim, the -place of Commissioner of Appeals, in the room of the celebrated Locke, -who had been appointed a Lord of Trade. The year following, he attended -Lord Halifax to Hanover; and, in the next, was appointed secretary to -Sir Charles Hedges, and was continued in that office by his successor, -Charles Spencer, Earl of Sunderland. - -[74] Addison was a sound Whig. Bolingbroke records, that, after the -peace which followed the ever memorable battle of Blenheim, he engaged -with Addison in a two hours' conversation, and their politics differed -_toto cælo_ from each other. - - - - - TO THE SAME. - - St. James's, Sept 11. - SIR,--Though I am not without hopes of seeing you in - England before this letter comes to your hands, I - cannot defer returning you my thanks for the honour of - yours of the 17th N. S. which I received this morning. - I beg leave to send you the enclosed ceremonial for the - King's entry, published by the Earl of Suffolk, Deputy - Earl Marshal, as regulated by the Lords Justices and - privy council.[75] The Attorney-general is preparing a - proclamation, reciting the rewards set on the Pretender - by the late Queen and Parliament, with the security set - for the payment, as established by a clause in an act - passed since his Majesty's accession to the throne. As - such a proclamation is very requisite; so, perhaps, it - may come with a good grace from the Regents before his - Majesty's arrival. It will, I believe, be fixed up in - all the market-towns, especially among the highlands in - Scotland, where there has been some meetings, but, by - the care of the Regents, of no consequence. - - [Subscribed in the same words as the preceding.] - - - TO THE EARL OF HALIFAX. - - Oct. 17, 1714. - MY LORD,--I find by your lordship's - discourse that you have your reasons - for laying aside the thought of bringing me into a - part of Lowndes's place;[76] and, as I hope they do - not proceed from any change of goodwill towards me, - I do entirely acquiesce in them. I know that one in - your lordship's high station has several opportunities - of showing favour to your dependants, as one of your - generous temper does not want to be reminded of it when - any such offer. I must therefore beg your lordship to - believe that I think no more of what you were pleased - to mention in relation to the Treasury, though the - kind and condescending manner in which your lordship - was pleased to communicate yourself to me on that - subject, shall always raise in me the most constant and - unfeigned zeal for your honour and service. - - I fancy, if I had a friend to represent to - his Majesty that I was sent abroad by King William, - and taken off from all other pursuits in order to be - employed in his service[77]--that I had the honour to - wait on your lordship to Hanover,--that the post I am - now in, is the gift of a particular lord [Sunderland], - in whose service I have been employed formerly,--that - it is a great fall, in point of honour, from being - secretary to the Regents, and that their request - to his Majesty still subsists in my favour,--with - other intimations that might perhaps be made to my - advantage,--I fancy, I say, that his Majestie, upon - such a representation, would be inclined to bestow on - me some mark of his favour. I protest to your lordship - I never gained to the value of five thousand pounds[78] - by all the business I have yet been in; and, out of - that, very near a fourth part has been laid out in my - elections.[79] I should not insist on this subject - so long, were it not taken notice of by some of the - Lords Justices themselves, as well as many others, - that his Majestie has yet done nothing for me, though - it was once expected he would have done something more - considerable for me than I can at present have the - confidence to mention. As I have the honour to write - to your lordship, whose favour I have endeavoured to - cultivate, and should be very ambitious of deserving, - I will humbly propose it to your lordship's thoughts, - whether his Majestie might not be inclined, if I was - mentioned to him, to put me in the Commission of Trade, - or in some honorary post about the Prince, or by some - other method to let the world see that I am not wholly - disregarded by him. I am ashamed to talk so long of - myself; but, if your lordship will excuse me this time, - I will never more erre on this side. I shall only - beg leave to add, that I mentioned your lordship's - kind intentions towards me only to two persons. One - of them was Phillips,[80] whom I could not forbear - acquainting, in the fulness of my heart, with the - kindness you had designed both him and me, which I take - notice of because I hope your lordship will have him in - your thoughts. - - Though I put by several importunities which - are made me to recommend persons and pretensions to - your lordship, there are some which I cannot resist, - without declaring, what would go very much against - me, that I have no credit with your lordship. Of this - kind is a request made me yesterday by Lady Irby, - that I would mention her to your lordship as one who - might be made easy in her fortune if your lordship - would be pleased to procure for her the place of a - bedchamber-woman to the Princess. I told her that - places of that nature were out of your lordship's - province; but she tells me, as the proper persons are - not yet named to whom she should make her applications, - and as my Lord Townsend has gained the same favour for - Mrs. Selwyn, she hopes you will excuse her solicitation - upon this occasion. - - My Lord Dorchester, from whom I lately - conveyed a letter to your lordship, has likewise - obliged me to speak in favour of Mr. Young, who marryed - a sister of Mr. Chetwynd's, and formerly was a clerk - under me in Ireland. He is now a man of estate, of - honest principles, and has been very serviceable to - Lord Dorchester in the elections at Salisbury. - - I humbly beg leave to congratulate your - lordship upon the honours you have lately received; and - whenever your lordship will allow me to wait on you, - I shall always value the honour of being admitted to - your conversation more than any place that can be given - me. I am, with the greatest respect, my lord, - Your lordship's most devoted and most obedient servant, - J. ADDISON. - -[75] Budgell has recorded that he attended Lord Halifax and Addison in a -barge to Greenwich to meet George the First from Hanover. Halifax said -he expected to have the Treasurer's staff, and to have great influence; -that he would endeavour to avoid some of the errors of late reigns, -and make his master a great king, and would recommend Addison to be -a secretary of state. Addison, as Budgell says, blushed, and thanked -him for such honourable friendship, but declared that his merits and -ambition did not carry him to so high a place. Halifax was, however, -circumvented in all his speculations: Walpole acquired more influence, -or succeeded by intrigue; and the effects mortified Lord Halifax so -acutely, that a pulmonary fever was the consequence, and death soon put -a quietus upon his lordship's unsuccessful struggle for power. - -[76] Lowndes was secretary to the Lords of the Treasury. - -[77] Congreve first introduced Addison to the notice of lord Halifax -while being educated at Oxford for the church, when his lordship is said -to have dedicated Addison to the state, and avowed he would never do -the church any other harm than in keeping him out of it. The post which -Addison here alludes to, was that of secretary to Lord Sunderland, who -was then appointed to the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland, but never went -to Dublin to assume the vice-regal dignity. Addison evidently deemed -that appointment a degradation, and much inferior to that of being -secretary to the Lords Regent of the kingdom till the arrival of the -new King. As to his having been in Lord Sunderland's employ formerly, -it has reference to his being his lordship's secretary upon the earl's -succeeding Sir Charles Hedges, as Secretary of State, in 1706. - -[78] This assertion seems strange, when it is known that in 1711, long -prior to his marriage with the Countess of Warwick, Addison had expended -ten thousand pounds upon the purchase of the Bilton estate, near Rugby, -in Warwickshire: and Oldmixon, in his History, says, Addison left by his -will, in 1719, to his daughter and to Lady Warwick, his fortune, which -was about twelve thousand pounds. His daughter, who resided at Bilton -till her death, in 1797, enjoyed an income of more than twelve hundred -pounds per annum. - -[79] Addison sat in the two last parliaments of Queen Anne. The Commons' -Journals record that on a petition against his election for Lestwithiel, -in 1708, he was found not duly elected; but by Lord Wharton's interest -at the general election, he was chosen member for Malmesbury: indeed, as -Swift wrote to Stella, so popular had Addison then become, that "if he -had stood for the kingship, he would have been chosen." - -[80] Ambrose Phillips, "one of the wits at Button's," and Addison's -constant associate at that resort of the literati. In the latter part -of Queen Anne's reign, being a Whig, he was secretary to the Hanover -Club, and was, soon after the accession of George the First, put -into the commission of the peace; and, in 1717, appointed one of the -Commissioners of the Lottery. Paul Whitehead relates that when Addison -became Secretary of State, Phillips applied to him for some preferment, -but was coolly answered, that it was thought he was already provided -for, by being made a justice for Westminster. To this observation -Phillips with some indignation replied, "Though poetry was a trade he -could not live by, yet he scorned to owe subsistence to another which -he ought not to live by." Phillips will be long remembered by his -translation from Racine of the tragedy of the "Distressed Mother." He -died, struck with palsy, in Hanover-street, Hanover-square, June 18, -1749. - - Oct. 24, 1714. - MY LORD,--Upon my coming home - this evening, I found a letter left for - me from your lordship which has raised in me a greater - satisfaction and sense of gratitude than I am able to - express. Nothing can be more acceptable to me than the - place which I hope your lordship has procured for me, - and particularly because it may put me in a way of - improving myself under your lordship's directions. I - will not pretend to express my thanks to your lordship - upon this occasion, but should be glad to employ my - whole life in it. - [Subscribed as before.] - - Nov. 30, 1714. - MY LORD,--Finding that I have miscarried - in my pretensions to the Board - of Trade, I shall not trouble your lordship with the - resentments of the unhandsome treatment I have met with - from some of our new great men in every circumstance - of that affair; but must beg leave to express my - gratitude to your lordship for the great favour you - have shown me on this occasion, which I shall never - forget. Young Craggs[81] told me, about a week ago, - that his Majestie, though he did not think fit to - gratifie me in this particular, designed to give me a - recompense for my service under the Lords Justices, in - which case your lordship will probably be consulted. - Since I find I am never to rise above the station - in which I first entered upon public business, (for - I begin to look upon myself like an old serjeant or - corporal,) I would willingly turn my secretaryships, - in which I have served five different masters, to the - best advantage I can; and as your lordship is the - only patron I glory in, and have a dependence on, - I hope you will honour me with your countenance in - this particular. If I am offered less than a thousand - pounds, I shall beg leave not to accept it, since it - will look more like a clerk's wages than a mark of his - Majesty's favour. I verily believe that his Majesty - may think I had fees and perquisites belonging to me - under the Lords Justices; but, though I was offered a - present by the South Sea Company, I never took that, - nor anything else, for what I did, as knowing I had - no right to it. Were I of another temper, my present - place in Ireland[82] might be as profitable to me as - some have represented it. I humbly beg your lordship's - pardon for the trouble of such a letter, and do assure - your lordship that one of the greatest pleasures I - shall receive in whatever I get from the government - will be its enabling me to promote your honour and - interest more effectually. I am informed, Mr. Yard, - besides a place and an annual recompense for serving - the Lords Justices [of Ireland] under King William, - had considerable fees, and was never at the charge of - getting himself elected into the House of Commons. - - I beg your lordship will give me leave to - add, that I believe I am the first man that ever drew - up a Prince of Wales's preamble without so much as a - medal for my pains. - [Subscribed as before.] - -[81] Young Craggs was the son of a _barber_, who, by his merit, became -Postmaster-general, and home-agent to the Duke of Marlborough; he was -one of the first characters of the age, and had distinguished himself -in the House of Commons. The classical names of Damon and Pythias, -of Pylades and Orestes, of Nisus and Euryalus, are not oftener found -conjoined in ancient story than those of Addison and Craggs in the -real life of modern times. Addison, notwithstanding the discomfiture -evinced in these letters, succeeded in procuring the appointment of -a Lord Commissioner at the Board of Trade, which post he held till -he was made Secretary of State, April 16, 1717. But Addison was then -fast sinking into a bad habit of body: his great care was how to live, -and, as Tacitus Gordon, his great admirer, used to relate, was then -killing himself in drinking the widow Trueby's water, spoken of in the -"Spectator." Unfit for the drudgery of a political life,--the pack-horse -of the state,--he pleaded the being incapable of supporting the fatigues -of his office, and resigned the seals in March 1718, upon a pension from -the King of seventeen hundred pounds per annum. Craggs, who was his -successor, died prematurely and unmarried, in his twenty-eighth year, in -1721. - -[82] Queen Anne, to whom Addison had been recommended by the Duchess of -Marlborough, on his appointment to be Secretary for Ireland, augmented -the salary annexed to the place of Keeper of the Records in Birmingham -Tower, to three hundred pounds per annum, and bestowed it on him. - - MY LORD,--Your lordship having - given me leave to acquaint you with the names and - pretensions of persons who are importunate with me to - speak to your lordship in their behalf, I shall make - use of that liberty when I believe it may be of use to - your lordship, or when I cannot possibly resist the - solicitation. I presumed to write to your lordship in - favour of Mr. Hungerford, who purchased of me in the - commission of Appeals. All I aske is, that he may enjoy - the fruits of his purchase: as for his recommending - one to his place, I only hinted at it, if his coming - into the House might be of service to your lordship. I - would not have spoken of Mr. Wroth, had not he assured - me that he was first recommended to your lordship by my - Lord Cooper.[83] He tells me since, he had the honour - to be schoolfellow to your lordship, and I know has a - most entire respect for you, and I believe is able to - do his friends service. - - The enclosed petition is of one who is - brother to a particular friend of mine at Oxford, and - brought me a letter in his behalf from Mr. Boscawen. - If your lordship would be pleased to refer it to - the Commissioners of Customs, it would give me an - opportunity of obliging one who may be of service to - me, and perhaps be a piece of justice to one who seems - to be a man of merit. - - I must beg your lordship's patience for - one more, at the request of my Lord and Lady Warwick, - especially since I hear your lordship has formerly - promised to do something for him. His name is Edward - Rich: he is to succeed to the title of the Earl of - Warwick should the young lord have no heir of his - own.[84] He is in great want, writes an extraordinary - good hand, and would be glad of a small place. He - mentions in particular a King's tide-waiter. Capt. - Addison[85] tells me that he presumed to put your - lordship in mind of himself; but, as I hope to provide - for him in Ireland, I will not trouble you on his - account. I have another namesake, who is well turned - for greater business; but if he could have a stamper's - place, vacant by the death of one who was formerly my - servant, it would be a very great favour. I beg your - lordship to pardon this freedom, and I promise to use - it very sparingly hereafter. - - When your lordship is at leisure, I - should be glad of a moment's audience: in the mean - time, I cannot conclude my letter without returning - your lordship thanks for all your favours, which have - obliged me, as long as I live, to be, in the most - particular manner, and with the utmost gratitude and - respect, my lord, - Your lordship's most devoted and Most obedient servant, - J. ADDISON. - -[83] William, first Earl Cowper, Lord High Chancellor of England; he -died Oct. 10, 1723. - -[84] Addison, it is said, was first introduced into the Warwick family -as tutor of the young lord here mentioned. The earl died soon after -the date of this letter; and Addison, at forty-five, took great pains -to woo the countess, who is described as being personally fraught with -half the pride of the nation. They were married in August 1716, though -not happily; for tradition reports they were seldom in each other's -company. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, in a letter to Pope, written from -the East, after this period, says, "I received the news of Addison's -being declared Secretary of State with the less surprise, in that I knew -that post was almost offered to him before. At that time he declined it; -and I really believe he would have done well to have declined it now. -Such a post as that, and such a wife as the countess, do not seem to be -in prudence eligible for a man that is asthmatic; and we may see the day -when he will be heartily glad to resign them both." - -[85] Dean Addison, who died April 20, 1703, left four children: Joseph, -the writer of these letters; Gulston, here spoken of as Captain Addison, -who died governor of Fort St. George, in the West Indies; Dorothy, of -whom Swift, in a letter dated October 25, 1710, says, "I dined to-day -with Addison and Steele, and a sister of Addison's, who is married to -Mons. Sartre, a Frenchman, prebendary of Westminster. Addison's sister -is a sort of wit, very like him: I am not fond of her." She married, -secondly, Daniel Combes, Esq. Addison bequeathed her in his will five -hundred pounds, which she lived to enjoy till March 2, 1750. The "other -namesake" was possibly Addison's other brother, Lancelot, who, Chalmers -states, was fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford, and an able classical -scholar. - - April 28, 1715. - MY LORD,--I can only acknowledge - the receipt of your grace's[86] last - letters, without being able to return any satisfactory - answer to them, my Lord Lieutenant not being yet well - enough recovered to give any directions in publick - businesse. He has not found the desired effects from - the country air and remedies which he has taken; so - that he is at length prevailed upon to go to the Bath, - which we hope will set him right, if we may believe - the assurances given him by his physicians. Your grace - has, doubtlesse, heard many idle reports which have - been industriously spread abroad with relation to his - distemper, which is nothing else but the cholick, - occasioned by a too frequent use of vomits, to which - the physicians adde the drinking of small beer in too - great quantities when he has found himself a little - heated. I hope, before his excellency sets out for the - Bath, I shall receive his directions upon your grace's - letters, which I shall always execute with the greatest - pleasure and dispatch, being with all possible respect, - my lord, - Your grace's most obedient and Most humble servant, - J. ADDISON. - -[86] The original of this letter having been forwarded in an envelope, -and wanting the notation, at foot of the first page, of the name of -the person to whom addressed, leaves it a conjecture who his grace -was, whether Ormond or Grafton. Charles Spencer, Earl of Sunderland, -is the Lord Lieutenant whose illness Addison describes. The earl never -went to Ireland to assume the vice-regal dignity; and, though this has -never been satisfactorily accounted for, the real causes were, in all -probability, his lordship's continued indisposition, and the death -of Anne, Countess-dowager of Sunderland, his mother. Charles Duke of -Grafton, and Henry Earl of Galway, were appointed Lords Justices of -Ireland, Nov. 1, 1715. - - - - - REMAINS OF HAJJI BABA. - - CHAPTER III. - -I made my preparations with all haste. In addition to my own servant, -Sadek, who had been one of our suite in our former mission, I hired two -others; one to take care of my horses, and another to spread my carpet. -A mule for my baggage, a good horse for my own riding, and two yaboos -for my servants, were soon procured; and, straightway, whip in hand, and -with boots on my feet, I announced myself ready for departure. - -When I appeared before the grand vizier, he said, "_Mashallah!_ By the -beard of the king, thou art a good servant; the kingdom of the Francs, -however, is not falling quite so rapidly that we cannot wait for a -fortunate hour for your departure." - -I had entirely resigned myself to fate, and therefore said, "Whatever -the Shah commands, I am ready to obey." Taking advantage of the -presence of many persons who were come to attend the vizier's levee; -and perhaps as much to exhibit my own consequence as to ask a question -of importance, I stept forward, and, kneeling before him, applied my -mouth to his ear, and said, "Your slave was anxious to have one question -answered, before he went, which is this:--suppose, before he got to -England, its king were really deposed, and the new king, the People -Shah, had mounted on the throne, what is your slave to do?" - -At this the vizier paused, and, reflecting a while, said, "You will then -live in a corner, and write to us for instructions; but do not lose any -opportunity of making good hits in penknives, broad-cloth, and virgins." - -Having waited his pleasure for some time, he then announced that he -would take me before the Shah; and accordingly we proceeded thither, he -taking the lead, whilst I followed at a respectable distance. - -The king was in a good humour; in other words, his brain was sane, and -his spirits well wound up. "By the head of the Shah!" he exclaimed, as -soon as he saw me equipped for the journey, "the Hajji is a wonderful -man; he makes as little of going from here to Frangistan, as we do of -going from the imperial gate to the Takht Kajar." - -Upon this the grand vizier said, "As I am your sacrifice, we are all -your slaves, we are all your servants, we are all ready to go to -Frangistan." - -"That is well," said the Shah. "Is every thing prepared for the Hajji?" - -"As I am your sacrifice, yes;" answered the minister. Upon which he drew -from his girdle a roll of paper, which contained the instructions I was -to receive as the rule of my conduct, and the several official letters -which I was to deliver upon my arrival in England. - -They were exhibited; and, the proper seals having been placed in the -royal presence, they were sent to the head mastofi, or secretary, to be -directed, and inserted in their silken bags. - -When this was over, the king sent for a _calaat_, or dress of honour, -with which I was soon after invested; and then he announced to me with -his own sacred lips, (an event which in my younger days I had so much -desired,) that, if on my return I should have fulfilled my mission to -the Shah's satisfaction, the title of khan would be conferred upon me, -with an appropriate dress of honour. - -This piece of intelligence, some ten years ago, would have made my -head touch the skies, but now it fell upon the surface of my mind as -lead upon cotton; for it promised rather more of trouble than of that -questionable sensation called honour, which I had long learnt to despise. - -I went to the _Der a Khoneh_, or the King's Gate, to take leave of my -friends, and there I received the papers relating to my mission. I was -instructed to offer no presents, but to receive as many for the Shah -as might be given; although, in the destitute situation in which we -supposed England was, we agreed that we could not expect many. The chief -treasurer then gave me a bag of _tomans_, few in number, and which, I -was aware, were insufficient to defray my expenses there and back; yet, -rather than run the chance of having my ears clipped by asking for more, -I chose to trust to my own ingenuity, and to the knowledge of _chum wa -hum_, or palaver, which I possessed, to make up the deficiencies. In -short, I determined to travel at everybody's cost rather than my own. - -At night I went to kiss the hem of the grand vizier's garment, and to -receive his last orders before my departure. He said nothing besides -recommending me to the care of the Prophet, and requesting me to send -him some silk spangled stuffs for the trousers of his harem when I -reached Constantinople. I then received the embrace of my old master, -the Mirza Firooz, who furnished me with letters to his old friends in -England; and with these consolations I went home, rolled up my carpets, -ordered my mule to be loaded, and my horses to be saddled; and, when all -was ready, I locked the door of my house, and, putting the key in my -pocket, I set off for the country of the Francs. - -I reached Erzeroom without any difficulty, having become a gainer, -rather than a loser, by my journey, owing to the presents which -I extracted from the villages on the road, who made them out of -consideration to the character of _elchi_, or ambassador, which I did -not fail to assume. Having got to this city, I determined to repose for -a few days; and, in order to refresh my memory upon the object of my -mission, I passed my time in reading over the instructions with which I -had been furnished. - -Perhaps my readers may be glad to know their contents. - -They were as follows: - -"_Instructions to the high in station, the Mirza Hajji Baba._ - -"That since, by the blessing of Allah, it has come to the knowledge of -the asylum of the universe, the king of kings, that the good fortune -which accompanied the infidels of England has turned upon them, it has -appeared good to appoint some master of wit, some lord of understanding -and experience, to go, and see, and consider, and to endeavour to -extract advantage from misery, wealth from poverty, and instruction from -wickedness: to that effect, the high in station, Hajji Baba, famous for -his skill in Franc wisdom and language, the lord of accomplishment, the -skilled in cunning and intelligence, has been appointed to this service. - -"That as in every country good men are to be found among whole -communities of bad, even as roses are seen to grow among thorns and -thistles, the Hajji will, with that eye of discernment for which he is -famous, discover such men among the infidels, and learn from them the -why and the wherefore, the how and the when, and the truth, if such is -to be found, of all that has taken place; beginning with the beginning, -and going on to the present time; and marking the same in a book to be -placed before the all-refulgent presence of the shadow of God upon earth. - -"That, as it is strictly enjoined in our blessed Koran, written by -the inspired Prophet, upon whom be blessings and peace! that true -believers do inflict all the harm in their power upon infidels, even -unto death, the Hajji is enjoined to take every advantage in his power -of their distress; taking their goods at the smallest value; enticing -their choice workmen into the land of Iran; holding out premiums of -calaats, and the protection of the Shah to their wise men; and making it -clear to them that it is better to make the confession of faith in the -religion of Islam, than to persist in their own unclean belief; holding -out promises of protection and advancement to those who, of their own -free will, will shave their heads, let their beards grow, receive the -proper marks, and say, "_Laallah, illalah, Mohamed resoul Allah!_" and -assurances of toleration to those who through obstinacy and infatuation -still eat the unclean beast, drink wine, and call Isau the only true -prophet. - -"That, upon arriving at the gate of the palace in London, he will -proceed to the presence of the king, brother to the ancient friend -and ally of Persia, if king he still be; and, after having delivered -the all-auspicious letter with which he is charged, he will lift up -his voice and say, 'O king, the asylum of the universe, whose slave I -am, has sent me to thee in thy distress, to offer thee a seat at his -gate, bread to eat, and the free usages of thy own country.' The Hajji -will then use his own discretion, and his own tongue, according as -circumstances may direct his wisdom, to console the Franc king in his -distress, to point out to him the manner in which he will be received, -and to hold out the prospect of commanding the Shah's ship in the -Caspian Sea. - -"That, having seen the king, he will repair to the famous Franc general, -celebrated for having discomfited the great French conqueror, well -known in Iran, and point out to him the advantages of serving the Shah, -instead of sitting in a corner under a new king of his own people; -and further, that he will place before him the certainty of his being -appointed to command the Persian armies, who will not fail to take both -Moscow and Petersburg, to burn the fathers of the Russians, and thus -to entitle himself to such share of the pillage as the Shah in his -greatness will allow him. - -"Having secured these advantages, the Hajji will then cast his eyes -about the country, and do his best endeavours to procure for the harem -of the Shah three choice virgins, whose beauty must surpass everything -that has been seen in Iran, with figures like poplar-trees, waists a -span round, eyes like those of the antelope, faces round as the moon, -hair to the swell of the leg, throats so fine that the wine may be seen -in its passage through them, teeth like pearls, and breath like the -gales wafted from the caravans of musk from Khatai. They are required -to be mistresses of every accomplishment; to sing so loud and so long -that they may be heard from the Ark to the Negaristan; to dance every -dance, standing on their heads, and running on their hands. They must -embroider, sew, and spin; they must know how to make _halwa_, or -sweetmeats; how to light a _kalioon_, or pipe, and to play the _jerid -bazi_ on horseback. In short, they must unite all the accomplishments of -Fars to the sagacity of Francs; and should they please the Shah, only -for one hour, they will have the satisfaction of having made the Hajji's -face white for ever. - -"The Shah, in his wisdom, trusting to the misery which is now known to -assail the English nation, enjoins the Hajji, as he would gain the royal -favour, and gain a great name in Iran, ever to keep a watchful eye upon -penknives, broad-cloth, chandeliers, and looking-glasses. He will make -as large a collection as possible for the use of the Shah,--for nothing -if he can: for little if he cannot for nothing. He will also accumulate -every other desirable thing fitted for the use of the king, which may -come within his grasp. - -"In short, he will recollect that such another opportunity of acquiring -advantages to his king and country as the breaking up of a large nation -and government, will never perhaps again be afforded; and with this -truth in his mind, that with one grain of wisdom frequently more is to -be achieved than with the strength of armies, he will employ all his -best wit to turn that head to account which Allah in his mercy has given -to him, and which luck and the blessed Prophet has given to the asylum -of the universe to employ." - -When I had read over my instructions, I laid the head of confusion upon -the pillow of repose, and sought in vain to relieve myself from the -various strange images which they had brought into my brain. I feared -that it would be impossible to bring the arduous business with which I -was intrusted to a happy conclusion, and secure for myself a white face -at the end of it, so difficult did it appear. However, the certainty -that _Allah kerim est_, or God is merciful, came to my help: and with -this soothing feeling, I quieted my apprehensions, and continued my road -to Constantinople, fully persuaded that, be the true believer among -Jews, Francs, or Muscovites, his only true help is in _Allah_. - - - CHAPTER IV. - -I reached Constantinople, and immediately inquired for the house of -a Franc whom I had known in former days: an Englishman, who might -enlighten my understanding concerning the objects of my mission, and -might inform me what might be the state of his country. He was a -sensible man,--a man done to a turn, who knew the difference between -justice and injustice, and whose words were not thrown into the air -without use. He frankly confirmed to me the truth of everything we had -heard reported at the gate of the asylum of the universe. I found him -seated on bales of merchandise in his warehouse, looking as if the world -had placed his heels where his head ought to be, and desponding over -his future prospects. Whatever I said to him upon the unreasonableness -of attempting to strive against the decrees of Providence was of no -avail. Instead of sitting down satisfied with his _takdeer_, or fate, -as I should have done, I found him poring over a large sheet of Franc -paper, printed, and therefore true, which he had just received from his -own land, and cursing in his teeth one of his household demons, as I -thought, which he called "_Dowlet_." He said that he verily believed -the father of madness had taken possession of his once flourishing -country; for what was always looked upon as right, was now called -wrong, and what used to be execrated as wrong was now adopted as right. -And, moreover, he asserted that the infatuation had gone so far, that -nobody seemed inclined to eat his figs, no one would buy his cotton: -there was an universal cry upon the miseries entailed by silk, and -more gloves now existed in the world than there were hands to wear -them. If such were the miseries of silk, thought I,--a produce which -comes from abroad,--what must be those of penknives which grow in -the country? I kept my thoughts to myself, and determined to set off -without delay to put my orders into execution. There was one thing I -was glad to ascertain in the interview with my friend, which was, that -I had not so entirely forgotten his language as I had feared, and that -I understood much of what he said. When I saw that large printed sheet -of paper, numerous were the recollections it gave rise to, and I was -struck with apprehension lest my thoughts, words, actions, even to the -dye of my beard, would be carefully registered therein day by day, -the moment I set my foot on English ground, if I did not take great -precautions against such an evil. I therefore determined to keep myself -as much unknown as possible; and, to that effect, resolved to leave -Constantinople without seeing the ambassador of the King of England, who -was residing there; and to make my way to the foot of his king's throne -with all the best haste I could. - -In consequence of what I had heard from the Franc merchant, and from all -I had seen with my own eyes, I collected all my certainty into a heap, -and became quite satisfied that the madness for which all Francs are -celebrated, and particularly the English, was now beginning to be fully -developed, and, strange to say, that the Turks, a nation so unchanged -since the days of Seljuk, so fixed in _destour_, or custom, tied down -by ancient habit,--the Turks themselves were no longer the same; the -English disorder, Reform, had crept in amongst them, and had committed -woful ravages. The Sultan himself took the lead; and it was now a -question solemnly discussed among the elders and ulemah, whether heaven -had come down to earth amongst them, or whether earth had descended into -hell. Some asserted one thing, some another. Those who were for heaven -said, "Thank Allah, our souls are now becoming as free as our chins. -Where are now those odious beards that used to wave about the ends of -our faces like long grass on the mountain top; that took toll of every -mouthful of food that went into our mouths; that required more washing -and dyeing than a Franc's shirt; and that gave a handle to our enemies -without being of use to ourselves--where are they? Swept for ever from -the faces of the sons of Islam, and swimming through the currents of -the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles. And where are now those great, those -awful, those capacious breeches, that could include within their folds -as many legs as would serve a whole company of soldiers, instead of -one pair of legs, which were eternally playing at hide-and-seek among -their immense involutions? They are gone for ever. The saving to the -Bab Homaioon--the gate of splendour--and to the treasury of the great -blood-drinker, in broad-cloth alone, will be worth ten thousand fighting -men per annum, let alone the inconvenience to the individuals. And -because we change the fashion of our clothes, does it follow that we -change that of our faith, as our enemies would have us to do? No. We can -kneel down on our praying-carpets as often and as easily in our tights, -as we before did in our slacks. And although smooth chins may be common -to unbelievers, yet it is certain that the paradise of Mahomet is as -open to the shaved as it is to the hairy." - -On the other hand, those who were of the Jehanum faction insisted that -the whole dignity and consequence of the Turkish empire had been -sacrificed with the beards of its subjects; that, from looking a nation -of sages, they had been turned into a nation of monkeys; and that -although the rage of innovation had hitherto only seized the capital, -yet, so it was once argued, when once it was known in the provinces that -its emperor, the vicegerent of Allah upon earth, had cut off his beard, -it was likely that the whole of the population would do so likewise, and -thus universal degradation would ensue. - -Then, as for the tight trousers which had been introduced, what lover -of decency would now venture to show his person in the nakedness of -unprotected legs, like the unblushing Francs? People might revile the -janissaries; but, at all events, they were decently clad men, wearing as -much cloth and muslin about their dress as would clothe a whole orta of -the poor starving-looking individuals of the new nizam. It might be very -well to say, that the faith of the heart did not change with the cut -of one's clothes; but it was plain that when once reform began, it was -impossible to say where it might stop; and true Mussulmans might perhaps -soon have to deplore its terrible effects, by seeing their wives walk -about without veils, with their faces exposed to the gaze of man. The -unclean beast would ere long be eaten with impunity from one end of the -celestial empire to the other; whilst all the holy Prophet's injunctions -against wine would be entirely set at nought;--all to follow the example -of unclean, faithless, and corrupt Francs, upon whom be all curses -poured! - -Such were the subjects which I daily heard discussed among the Turks, -and every word which entered into my ears, only confirmed the reports -which had reached my own country. I therefore consulted with my friend -the Franc merchant upon the easiest mode of getting to England, quickest -in point of conveyance, and the most eligible in point of secrecy. He -recommended me to go by land, and first to proceed to the capital of the -Nemseh, or Germans, ascending the Balkan, descending into the plains -of Wallachia, by first crossing the Danube, and then making my way to -another chain of mountains culled Karpathos; which having crossed, I -should soon find myself among the Majar, and then all in good time, -meeting the Danube again, I should reach Vienna. This seemed mighty easy -to the Franc merchant, but to me it appeared very much like scaling -the six heavens to get at the seventh. However, I was on the Shah's -business; and therefore, putting my firm faith in Allah, I allied myself -with a party of Greek merchants, who were proceeding into Germany upon -matters of business. We resolved to set off as soon as we should hear -that no recent robberies had taken place on the road. - - - - - SONNET TO A FOG. - (WITH A CRITICAL NOTE.) - - BY EGERTON WEBBE. - - Hail to thee, Fog! most reverend, worthy Fog! - Come in thy full-wigg'd gravity; I much - Admire thee:--thy old dulness hath a touch - Of true respectability. The rogue - That calls thee names (a fellow I could flog) - Would beard his grandfather, and trip his crutch. - But I am dutiful, and hold with such - As deem thy solemn company no clog. - Not that I love to travel best incog.-- - To pounce on latent lamp-posts, or to clutch - The butcher in my arms or in a bog - Pass afternoons; but while through thee, I jog, - I feel I am true English, and no Dutch, - Nor French, nor any other foreign dog - That never mixed his grog - Over a sea-coal fire a day like this, - And bid thee scowl thy worst, and found it bliss, - And to himself said, "Yes, - Italia's skies are fair, her fields are sunny; - But, d--n their eyes! Old England for my money." - -"And do you call this a sonnet, sir?" I hear some reader say, with his -fingers resting on the twentieth line: "I hope I know what a sonnet is; -why, sir, sonnet is the Greek for _fourteen_, to be sure; and your lines -must always count just two over the dozen, or you make no sonnet of it; -everybody knows this same." - -Have patience, good reader, while I proceed to convict thee of -impertinence. No man is so happy of an occasion of correcting others -as he who has recently learnt something. Now, behold! I have recently -learnt this,--that the Italian poets, when they want to be funny, -and at the same time to sonnetteer, (new verb,) outrage the gentle -proportions of Poetry's fairest daughter--her whose delicate form took -captive the soul of Petrarch--by ignominiously affixing to her hinder -parts that always unseemly appendage--_a tail_, which is no less a -tail, and therefore no less disgraceful to her who wears it, for being -called, in the more courtly language of those original conspirators, -_coda_ (from Latin _cauda_, observe;--see your dictionary.) This have -I learnt, astonished reader, by poking into the _Parnasso Italiano_, -as you may do, and there, beholding these prodigious baboon sonnets -in full tail,--for verily they resemble not the true birth more than -monkeys resemble men, and that is as much as to say they do resemble -them--in such a manner as to make you laugh at the difference. But -herein those Italian conspirators, who hatched the infernal plot, gained -their end; they diverted their readers at the expense of poetical -decency. Now, however, seeing that this second ("_caudatus_") species -of the sonnet has a real and lively existence in the land that gave -it birth; and seeing that we have freely imported from that land the -other, the _non-caudatus_, species, (for I suppose all young ladies and -gentlemen know to what country they are indebted for the fourteen-lined -happiness,) it seems but fair that we should improve our national stock -by bringing over the later breed, and applying it to the same uses as -our neighbours. - -The above is the first avowed specimen of the _tailed sonnet_, I -believe, that has ever appeared in English; and I hope it may operate -as a useful example to better poets, and induce them to clap tails -continually to their sonnets, whenever they intend fun.[87] I say it -is the first _avowed_ specimen, because there exists one (unsuspected) -among the poems of no less a man than John Milton, who found nothing -admirable in any language but he quickly transplanted it. That most -accomplished of modern poetical critics, Leigh Hunt, was the first who -discovered the fact, and gave the alarm to Milton's editors; he showed -very clearly that that short poem, "On the New Forcers of conscience -under the Long Parliament," which is always published, ignorantly, -among the _miscellaneous_ pieces, is neither more nor less than a comic -_sonnet_ with the Italian tail to it. If the reader will take the -trouble to look into his Milton, he will find that this poem down to the -line, - - "Your plots and packing worse than those of Trent," - -forms a regular fourteen-liner; then comes the little adjunct,--"That -so the parliament,"--which, rhyming with the foregoing, gains the right -of introducing a new couplet; then another, rhyming with that, and -lending to a second supernumerary. In this manner the Italian poets link -on couplet after couplet without end, and you may see some of their -sonnets with tails stretching through several pages; nay, for aught I -know, you might have a sonnet in two volumes octavo, without exceeding -your licence. But it must always be constructed on the above plan, with -links of a like thickness. By the bye, it is surprising that the late -editors of Milton's poems--men professedly conversant with Italian -literature--should still persist in placing this comic sonnet among the -"miscellaneous pieces," after the error has been pointed out to them! - -As for the question--why a tail should be ridiculous?--it seems to me -one of considerable intricacy, and of the highest interest. Yes, Mr. -Editor, why _should_ tails be ridiculous? Coat-tails, pig-tails, all -tails whatsoever, are found to touch us with a sense of the jocose; nay, -your comet's tail itself is only a kind of _terrific absurdity_. I say, -therefore, without fear of contradiction, that there subsists in this -question a deep psychological truth, which demands the exploring hand of -philosophy; and if no better man will take the hint,--why, Mr. Editor, -I think I must myself present you, another time, with my ideas on this -subject, handling the matter in the Aristotelian mode, and dividing my -_tails_ into _heads_. - -With respect to the tail of a comic sonnet, it may be briefly remarked, -that its comicality (of course I speak with reference to the Italian -models) arises in a great measure from the stumbling of the little -line, which always comes limping after the long one, as if something -were forgotten to be said in it, which the little one thus breathlessly -comes to adjoin; and then a succession of these _quasi_ oversights -makes us laugh, alternately at the seeming blunder and at the funny -haste with which it is redressed. Or it is like an orator in his cups, -speaking fairly enough his _prepared_ speech; but then--encouraged by -applause--spoiling all with drunken additions _ex tempore_. - -[87] I understand that the distinguished writer mentioned below as -having first pointed attention to Milton's comic sonnet, had also in MS. -some specimen of his own composing. - - - - - HANDY ANDY.--No. III. - -Squire Egan was as good as his word. He picked out the most suitable -horsewhip for chastising the fancied impertinence of Murtough Murphy; -and as he switched it up and down with a powerful arm, to try its weight -and pliancy, the whistling of the instrument through the air was music -to his ears, and whispered of promised joy in the flagellation of the -jocular attorney. - -"We'll see who can make the sorest blister," said the squire. "I'll back -whalebone against Spanish flies any day. Will you bet, Dick?" said he to -his brother-in-law, who was a wild helter-skelter sort of fellow, better -known over the country as Dick the Devil than Dick Dawson. - -"I'll back your bet, Ned." - -"There's no fun in that, Dick, as there is nobody to take it up." - -"Maybe Murtough will. Ask him before you thrash him; you'd better." - -"As for _him_," said the squire, "I'll be bound he'll back my bet after -he gets a taste o' this;" and the horsewhip whistled as he spoke. - -"I think he had better take care of his back than his bet," said Dick, -as he followed the squire to the hall-door, where his horse was in -waiting for him, under the care of the renowned Andy, who little dreamed -the extensive harvest of mischief which was ripening in futurity, all -from his sowing. - -"Don't kill him quite, Ned," said Dick, as the squire mounted to his -saddle. - -"Why, if I went to horsewhip a gentleman, of course I should only shake -my whip at him; but an attorney is another affair. And, as I'm sure -he'll have an action against me for assault, I think I may as well get -the worth o' my money out of him, to say nothing of teaching him better -manners for the future than to play off his jokes on his employers." -With these words, off he rode in search of the devoted Murtough, who was -not at home when the squire reached his house; but, as he was returning -through the village, he espied him coming down the street in company -with Tom Durfy and the widow, who were laughing heartily at some joke -Murtough was telling them, which seemed to amuse him as much as his -hearers. - -"I'll make him laugh at the wrong side of his mouth," thought the -squire, alighting and giving his horse to the care of one of the little -ragged boys who were idling in the street. He approached Murphy with a -very threatening aspect, and, confronting him and his party so as to -produce a halt, he said, as distinctly as his rage would permit him to -speak, "You little insignificant blackguard, I'll teach you how you'll -cut your jokes on _me_ again; _I'll_ blister you, my buck!" and, laying -hands on the astonished Murtough with the last word, he began a very -smart horsewhipping of the attorney. The widow screamed, Tom Durfy -swore, and Murtough roared, with some interjectional curses. At last he -escaped from the squire's grip, leaving the lappel of his coat in his -possession; and Tom Durfy interposed his person between them when he -saw an intention on the part of the flagellator to repeat his dose of -horsewhip. - -"Let me at him, sir; or by----" - -"Fie, fie, squire--to horsewhip a gentleman like a cart-horse." - -"A gentleman!--an attorney you mean." - -"I say a gentleman, Squire Egan," cried Murtough fiercely, roused to -gallantry by the presence of a lady, and smarting under a sense of -injury and whalebone. "I'm a gentleman, sir, and demand the satisfaction -of a gentleman. I put my honour in your hands, Mr. Durfy." - -"Between his finger and thumb you mean, for there's not a handful of -it," said the squire. - -"Well, sir," replied Tom Durfy, "little or much, I'll take charge of -it.--That's right, my cock," said he to Murtough, who, notwithstanding -his desire to assume a warlike air, could not resist the natural impulse -of rubbing his back and shoulders, which tingled with pain, while he -exclaimed "Satisfaction! satisfaction!" - -"Very well," said the squire: "you name yourself as Mr. Murphy's -friend?" added he to Durfy. - -"The same, sir," said Tom. "Who do you name as yours?" - -"I suppose you know one Dick the Divil." - -"A very proper person, sir;--no better: I'll go to him directly." - -The widow clung to Tom's arm, and, looking tenderly at him, cried "Oh, -Tom, Tom, take care of your precious life!" - -"Bother!" said Tom. - -"Ah, Squire Egan, don't be so bloodthirsty!" - -"Fudge, woman!" said the squire. - -"Ah, Mr. Murphy, I'm sure the squire's very sorry for beating you." - -"Divil a bit," said the squire. - -"There, ma'am," said Murphy; "you see he'll make no apology." - -"Apology!" said Durfy;--"apology for a horsewhipping, indeed!--Nothing -but handing a horsewhip (which I wouldn't ask any gentleman to do), or a -shot can settle the matter." - -"Oh, Tom! Tom! Tom!" said the widow. - -"Ba! ba! ba!" shouted Tom, making a crying face at her. "Arrah, woman, -don't be makin' a fool o' yourself. Go in there to the 'pothecary's, and -get something under your nose to revive you; and let _us_ mind _our_ -business." - -The widow, with her eyes turned up, and an exclamation to Heaven, was -retiring to M'Garry's shop wringing her hands, when she was nearly -knocked down by M'Garry himself, who rushed from his own door, at the -same moment that an awful smash of his shop-window, and the demolition -of his blue and red bottles, alarmed the ears of the bystanders, while -their eyes were drawn from the late belligerent parties to a chase which -took place down the street, of the apothecary roaring "Murder!" followed -by Squire O'Grady with an enormous cudgel. - -O'Grady, believing that M'Garry and the nurse-tender had combined to -serve him with a writ, determined to wreak double vengeance on the -apothecary, as the nurse had escaped him; and, notwithstanding all -the appeals of his poor frightened wife, he left his bed, and rode to -the village to "break every bone in M'Garry's skin." When he entered -the shop, the pharmacopolist was much surprised, and said, with a -congratulatory grin at the great man, "Dear me, Squire O'Grady, I'm -delighted to see you." - -"Are you, you scoundrel!" said the squire, making a blow of his cudgel -at him, which was fended by an iron pestle the apothecary fortunately -had in his hand. The enraged O'Grady made a rush behind the counter, -which the apothecary nimbly jumped over, crying "Murder!" as he made for -the door, followed by his pursuer, who gave a back-handed slap at the -window-bottles _en passant_, and produced the crash which astonished the -widow, who now joined her screams to the general hue-and-cry; for an -indiscriminate chase of all the ragamuffins in the town, with barking -curs and screeching children, followed the flight of M'Garry and the -pursuing squire. - -"What the divil is all this about?" said Tom Durfy, laughing. "By the -powers! I suppose there's something in the weather to produce all this -fun,--though it's early in the year yet to begin thrashing, for the -harvest isn't in yet. But, however, let us manage our little affair, -now that we're left in peace and quietness, for the blackguards are all -over the bridge afther the hunt. I'll go to Dick the Divil immediately, -squire, and arrange time and place." - -"There's nothing like saving time and trouble on these occasions," said -the squire. "Dick is at my house, I can arrange time and place with you -this minute, and he will be on the ground with me." - -"Very well," said Tom; "where is it to be?" - -"Suppose we say the cross-roads halfway between this and Merryvale. -There's very pretty ground there, and we shall be able to get our -pistols, and all that, ready in the mean time between this and four -o'clock,--and it will be pleasanter to have it all over before dinner." - -"Certainly, squire," said Tom Durfy; "we'll be there at four.--Till -then, good morning, squire;" and he and his man walked off; Tom having -left the widow under the care of the apothecary's boy, who was applying -asafoetida and other sweet-smelling things to the alleviation of the -faintings which the widow thought it proper and delicate to enact on the -occasion. - -The squire rode immediately homewards, and told Dick Dawson the piece of -work that was before them. - -"And so he'll have a shot at you, instead of an action," said Dick. -"Well, there's pluck in that: I wish he was more of a gentleman for your -sake. It's dirty work shooting attorneys." - -"He's enough of a gentleman, Dick, to make it impossible for me to -refuse him." - -"Certainly, Ned," said Dick. - -"Do you know is he anything of a shot?" - -"Faith, he makes very pretty snipe-shooting; but I don't know if he has -experience of the grass before breakfast." - -"You must try and find out from any one on the ground; because, if the -poor divil isn't a good shot, I wouldn't like to kill him, and I'll let -him off easy--I'll give it to him in the pistol-arm, or so." - -"Very well, Ned. Where are the flutes? I must look over them." - -"Here," said the squire, producing a very handsome mahogany case of -Rigby's best. Dick opened the case with the utmost care, and took up -one of the pistols tenderly, handling it as delicately as if it were a -young child or a lady's hand. He clicked the lock back and forwards a -few times; and, his ear not being satisfied at the music it produced, he -said he should like to examine them: "At all events, they want a touch -of oil." - -"Well, keep them out of the misthriss's sight, Dick, for she might be -alarmed." - -"Divil a taste," says Dick; "she's a Dawson, and there never was a -Dawson yet that did not know men must be men." - -"That's true, Dick. I wouldn't mind so much if she wasn't in a delicate -situation just now, when it couldn't be expected of the woman to be so -stout: so go, like a good fellow, into your own room, and Andy will -bring you anything you want." - -Five minutes after, Dick was engaged in cleaning the duelling-pistols, -and Andy at his elbow, with his mouth wide open, wondering at the -interior of the locks which Dick had just taken off. - -"Oh, my heavens! but that's a quare thing, Misther Dick, sir," said -Andy, going to take it up. - -"Keep your fingers off it, you thief, do!" roared Dick, making a rap of -the turnscrew at Andy's knuckles. - -"Sure I'll save you the throuble o' rubbin' that, Misther Dick, if you -let me; here's the shabby leather." - -"I wouldn't let your clumsy fist near it, Andy, nor your _shabby_ -leather, you villain, for the world. Go get me some oil." - -Andy went on his errand, and returned with a can of lamp-oil to Dick, -who swore at him for his stupidity: "The divil fly away with you; you -never do anything right; you bring me lamp-oil for a pistol." - -"Well, sure I thought lamp-oil was the right thing for burnin'." - -"And who wants to burn it, you savage?" - -"Aren't you goin' to fire it, sir?" - -"Choke you, you vagabond!" said Dick, who could not resist laughing, -nevertheless; "be off, and get me some sweet oil, but don't tell any one -what it's for." - -Andy retired, and Dick pursued his polishing of the locks. Why he used -such a blundering fellow as Andy for a messenger might be wondered at, -only that Dick was fond of fun, and Andy's mistakes were a particular -source of amusement to him, and on all occasions when he could have -Andy in his company he made him his attendant. When the sweet oil was -produced, Dick looked about for a feather; but, not finding one, desired -Andy to fetch him a pen. Andy went on his errand, and returned, after -some delay, with an ink-bottle. - -"I brought you the ink, sir, but I can't find a pin." - -"Confound your numskull! I didn't say a word about ink; I asked for a -pen." - -"And what use would a pin be without ink, now I ax yourself, Misther -Dick?" - -"I'd knock your brains out if you had any, you _omadhaun_! Go along and -get me a feather, and make haste." - -Andy went off, and, having obtained a feather, returned to Dick, who -began to tip certain portions of the lock very delicately with oil. - -"What's that for, Misther Dick, sir, if you plaze?" - -"To make it work smooth." - -"And what's that thing you're grazin' now, sir?" - -"That's the tumbler." - -"O Lord! a tumbler--what a quare name for it. I thought there was no -tumbler but a tumbler for punch." - -"That's the tumbler you would like to be cleaning the inside of, Andy." - -"Thrue for you, sir.--And what's that little thing you have your hand on -now, sir?" - -"That's the cock." - -"Oh dear, a cock!--Is there e'er a hin in it, sir?" - -"No, nor a chicken either, though there _is_ a feather." - -"The one in your hand, sir, that you're grazin' it with." - -"No: but this little thing--this is called the feather-spring." - -"It's the feather, I suppose, makes it let fly." - -"No doubt of it, Andy." - -"Well, there's some sinse in that name, then; but who'd think of sitch -a thing as a tumbler and a cock in a pistle? And what's that place that -opens and shuts, sir?" - -"The pan." - -"Well, there's sinse in that name too, bekaze there's fire in the thing; -and it's as nath'ral to say pan to that as to a fryin'-pan--isn't it, -Misther Dick?" - -"Oh! there was a great gunmaker lost in you, Andy," said Dick, as he -screwed on the locks, which he had regulated to his mind, and began to -examine the various departments of the pistol-case, to see that it was -properly provided. He took the instrument to cut some circles of thin -leather, and Andy again asked him for the name "o' _that_ thing." - -"This is called the punch, Andy." - -"So, there _is_ the punch as well as the tumbler, sir?" - -"Ay, and very strong punch it is, you see, Andy;" and Dick struck it -with his little mahogany mallet, and cut his patches of leather. - -"And what's that for, sir?--the leather, I mane." - -"That's for putting round the ball." - -"Is it for fear 'twould hurt him too much when you hot him?" - -"You're a queer customer, Andy," said Dick, smiling. - -"And what weeshee little balls thim is, sir." - -"They are always small for duelling-pistols." - -"Oh, then _thim_ is jewellin' pistles. Why, musha, Misther Dick, is -it goin' to fight a jule you are?" said Andy, looking at him with -earnestness. - -"No, Andy,--but the master is; but don't say a word about it." - -"Not a word for the world. The masther goin' to fight!--God send him -safe out iv it!--Amin. And who is he going to fight, Misther Dick?" - -"Murphy the attorney, Andy." - -"Oh, won't the masther disgrace himself by fightin' the 'torney?" - -"How dare you say such a thing of your master?" - -"I ax your pard'n, Misther Dick; but sure you know what I mane.--I hope -he'll shoot him." - -"Why, Andy, Murtough was always very good to you, and now you wish him -to be shot." - -"Sure, why wouldn't I rather have him kilt more than the masther?" - -"But neither may be killed." - -"Misther Dick," said Andy, lowering his voice, "wouldn't it be an -iligant thing to put two balls into the pistle instid o' one, and give -the masther a chance over the 'torney?" - -"Oh, you murdherous villain!" - -"Arrah, why shouldn't the masther have a chance over him? sure he has -childre, and 'Torney Murphy has none." - -"At that rate, Andy, I suppose you'd give the master a ball additional -for every child he has, and that would make eight. So, you might as well -give him a blunderbuss and slugs at once." - -Dick locked the pistol-case, having made all right; and desired Andy to -mount a horse, carry it by a back road out of the domain, and wait at a -certain gate he named until he should be joined there by himself and the -squire, who proceeded at the appointed time to the ground. - -Andy was all ready, and followed his master and Dick with great pride, -bearing the pistol-case after them to the ground, where Murphy and Tom -Durfy were ready to receive them, and a great number of spectators were -assembled; for the noise of the business had gone abroad, and the ground -was in consequence crowded. - -Tom Durfy had warned Murtough Murphy, who had no experience as a -pistol-man, that the squire was a capital shot, and that his only chance -was to fire as quickly as he could.--"Slap at him, Morty, my boy, the -minute you get the word; and, if you don't hit him itself, it will -prevent his dwelling on his aim." - -Tom Durfy and Dick the Devil soon settled the preliminaries of the -ground and mode of firing; and twelve paces having been marked, both the -seconds opened their pistol-cases, and prepared to load. Andy was close -to Dick all the time, kneeling beside the pistol-case, which lay on the -sod; and, as Dick turned round to settle some other point on which Tom -Durfy questioned him, Andy thought he might snatch the opportunity of -giving his master "the chance" he suggested to his second.--"Sure, if -Misther Dick wouldn't like to do it, that's no raison I wouldn't," said -Andy to himself; "and, by the powers! I'll pop in a ball _onknownst_ to -him." And, sure enough, Andy contrived, while the seconds were engaged -with each other, to put a ball into each pistol before the barrel was -loaded with powder, so that, when Dick took up his pistols to load, -a bullet lay between the powder and the touch-hole. Now this must -have been discovered by Dick, had he been cool; but he and Tom Durfy -had wrangled very much about the point they had been discussing, and -Dick, at no time the quietest person in the world, was in such a rage, -that the pistols were loaded by him without noticing Andy's ingenious -interference, and he handed a harmless weapon to his brother-in-law when -he placed him on his ground. - -The word was given. Murtough, following his friend's advice, fired -instantly: bang he went, while the squire returned but a flash in -the pan. He turned a look of reproach upon Dick, who took the pistol -silently from him, and handed him the other, having carefully looked to -the priming, after the accident which happened to the first. - -Durfy handed his man another pistol also; and, before he left his side, -said in a whisper, "Don't forget; have the first fire." - -Again the word was given: Murphy blazed away a rapid and harmless shot; -for his hurry was the squire's safety, while Andy's murderous intentions -were his salvation. - -"D--n the pistol!" said the squire, throwing it down in a rage. Dick -took it up with manifest indignation, and d--d the powder. - -"Your powder's damp, Ned." - -"No, it's not," said the squire; "it's you who have bungled the loading." - -"Me!" said Dick, with a look of mingled rage and astonishment: "_I_ -bungle the loading of pistols!--_I_ that have stepped more ground and -arranged more affairs than any man in the county!--Arrah, be aisy, Ned!" - -Tom Durfy now interfered, and said, for the present it was no matter, -as, on the part of his friend, he begged to express himself satisfied. - -"But it's very hard we're not to have a shot," said Dick, poking the -touch-hole of the pistol with a pricker which he had just taken from the -case which Andy was holding before him. - -"Why, my dear Dick," said Durfy, "as Murphy has had two shots, and the -squire has not had the return of either, he declares he will not fire at -him again; and, under these circumstances, I must take my man off the -ground." - -"Very well," said Dick, still poking the touch-hole, and examining the -point of the pricker as he withdrew it. - -"And now Murphy wants to know, since the affair is all over and his -honour satisfied, what was your brother-in-law's motive in assaulting -him this morning, for he himself cannot conceive a cause for it." - -"Oh, be _aisy_, Tom." - -"'Pon my soul, it's true." - -"Why, he sent him a blister,--a regular apothecary's blister,--instead -of some law-process, by way of a joke, and Ned wouldn't stand it." - -Durfy held a moment's conversation with Murphy, who now advanced to -the squire, and begged to assure him there must be some mistake in the -business, for that he had never committed the impertinence of which he -was accused. - -"All I know is," said the squire, "that I got a blister, which my -messenger said you gave him." - -"By virtue of my oath, squire, I never did it! I gave Andy an enclosure -of the law-process." - -"Then it's some mistake that vagabond has made," said the squire. "Come -here, you sir!" he shouted to Andy, who was trembling under the angry -eye of Dick the Devil, who, having detected a bit of lead on the point -of the pricker, guessed in a moment Andy had been at work; and the -unfortunate rascal had a misgiving that he had made some blunder, from -the furious look of Dick. - -"Why don't you come here when I call you?" said the squire.--Andy laid -down the pistol-case, and sneaked up to the squire.--"What did you do -with the letter Mr. Murphy gave you for me yesterday?" - -"I brought it to your honour." - -"No, you didn't," said Murphy. "You've made some mistake." - -"Divil a mistake I made," answered Andy very stoutly; "I wint home the -minit you give it to me." - -"Did you go home direct from my house to the squire's?" - -"Yis, sir, I did: I wint direct home, and called at Mr. M'Garry's by the -way for some physic for the childre." - -"That's it!" said Murtough; "he changed my enclosure for a blister -there; and if M'Garry has only had the luck to send the bit o' parchment -to O'Grady, it will be the best joke I've heard this month of Sundays." - -"He did! he did!" shouted Tom Durfy; "for don't you remember how O'Grady -was after M'Garry this morning." - -"Sure enough," said Murtough, enjoying the double mistake. "By dad! -Andy, you've made a mistake this time that I'll forgive you." - -"By the powers o' war!" roared Dick the Devil, "I won't forgive him -what he did now, though! What do you think?" said he, holding out the -pistols, and growing crimson with rage: "may I never fire another shot -if he hasn't crammed a brace of bullets down the pistols before I loaded -them: so, no wonder you burned prime, Ned." - -There was a universal laugh at Dick's expense, whose pride in being -considered the most accomplished regulator of the duello was well known. - -"Oh, Dick, Dick! you're a pretty second!" was shouted by all. - -Dick, stung by the laughter, and feeling keenly the ridiculous position -in which he was placed, made a rush at Andy, who, seeing the storm -brewing, gradually sneaked away from the group, and, when he perceived -the sudden movement of Dick the Devil, took to his heels, with Dick -after him. - -"Hurra!" cried Murphy; "a race--a race! I'll bet on Andy--five pounds on -Andy." - -"Done!" said the squire; "I'll back Dick the Divil." - -"Tare an' ouns!" roared Murphy; "how Andy runs! Fear's a fine spur." - -"So is rage," said the squire. "Dick's hot-foot after him. Will you -double the bet?" - -"Done!" said Murphy. - -The infection of betting caught the bystanders, and various gages were -thrown down and taken up upon the speed of the runners, who were getting -rapidly into the distance, flying over hedge and ditch with surprising -velocity, and, from the level nature of the ground, an extensive view -could not be obtained; therefore Tom Durfy, the steeple-chaser, cried -"Mount, mount! or we'll lose the fun: into our saddles, and after them!" - -Those who had steeds took the hint, and a numerous field of horsemen -joined in the chase of Handy Andy and Dick the Devil, who still -maintained great speed. The horsemen made for a neighbouring hill, -whence they could command a wider view; and the betting went on briskly, -varying according to the vicissitudes of the race. - -"Two to one on Dick--he's closing." - -"Done!--Andy will wind him yet." - -"Well done!--there's a leap! Hurra!--Dick's down! Well done, Dick!--up -again, and going." - -"Mind the next quickset hedge--that's a rasper; it's a wide gripe, and -the hedge is as thick as a wall--Andy'll stick in it.--Mind him!--Well -leap'd, by the powers!--Ha! he's sticking in the hedge--Dick'll catch -him now.--No, by jingo! he has pushed his way through--there he's -going again at the other side.--Ha! ha! ha! ha! look at him--he's in -tatthers!--he has left half of his breeches in the hedge." - -"Dick is over now.--Hurra!--he has lost the skirt of his coat--Andy is -gaining on him.--Two to one on Andy!" - -"Down he goes!" was shouted, as Andy's foot slipped in making a dash at -another ditch, into which he went head over heels, and Dick followed -fast, and disappeared after him. - -"Ride! ride!" shouted Tom Durfy, and the horsemen put their spurs in -the flanks of their steeds, and were soon up to the scene of action. -There was Andy roaring murder, rolling over and over in the muddy -bottom of a deep ditch, with Dick fastened on him, pummelling away most -unmercifully, but not able to kill him altogether for want of breath. - -The horsemen, in a universal _screech_ of laughter, dismounted, and -disengaged the unfortunate Andy from the fangs of Dick the Devil, who -was dragged from out of the ditch much more like a scavenger than a -gentleman. - -The moment Andy got loose, away he ran again, and never cried stop till -he earthed himself under his mother's bed in the parent cabin. - -The squire and Murtough Murphy shook hands, and parted friends in -half an hour after they had met as foes; end even Dick contrived -to forget his annoyance in an extra stoup of claret that day after -dinner,--filling more than one bumper in drinking _confusion_ to Handy -Andy, which seemed a rather unnecessary malediction. - - - - - EPIGRAM. - - On Easter Sunday, Lucy spoke, - And said, "A saint you might provoke, - Dear Sam, each day, since Monday last; - But now I see your rage is past." - Said Sam, "What Christian could be meek! - You know, my love, 'twas _Passion Week_; - And so, you see, the rage I've spent - Was not my own--'twas only _Lent_." - S. LOVER. - - - - - INTRODUCTION TO THE BIOGRAPHY OF MY AUNT JEMIMA, - THE POLITICAL ECONOMIST. - - BY FRIDOLIN. - - PRELIMINARY DISQUISITION ON HUMAN GREATNESS, - TOUCHING UPON THE TRUE PHILOSOPHY OF THE MATTER. - - "Some men are born great, - some acquire greatness, - and some have greatness thrust upon them." - -Thus read my aunt Jemima, and thus subsequently read I, in the -days of our respective and respectable minorities; but with this -difference--uncertain whether GREATNESS had not already clandestinely -made its _avatar_ into me at my birth, or whether it was destined -hereafter to yield coyly to my wooing, or would force me in future years -to cry in vain humility, "_Nolo magnificari_." I always felt confident -of eminence; whereas my aunt Jemima often feelingly reverted to the -misery of her young maidenly thoughts, when brooding over the certainty -that she could never, under any circumstances, become a "great man." - -"Great women" were unknown in her early days. There were no such things; -save and except such as might be seen at St. Bartholomew's fair at -inexpensive cost,--giantesses, who lowered themselves to gain a living -by their height. But my aunt Jemima valued not such feminine _greatness_ -as theirs. Her aspiring spirit looked not "to _measures_, but to men." -Our notions change! - -It is very melancholy, and rather inconvenient, to drag through the last -and heaviest stage of life a martyr to a marvel. - -Horace, who forbids all wise men to wonder, himself exhibited a -thriftless want of economy in the expenditure of his own wonder when he -marvelled, in excellent metre, that any man should eat garlic who had -not murdered his father; and also, that any mortal should have dared to -venture on the sea before the discovery of Kyan's anti-dry-rot patent. - -Nor can I much sympathise in the great marvel of that renowned French -statesman, of esculent memory, who professed himself unable to discover -any principle in nature, or in philosophy, that could explain how a -certain Duke of Thuringia, passing through Strasburg on a diplomatic -mission, should not have stopped to dine, _en hâte, de foie gras_. -As for the "three, yea four," curious problems of olden time, which -consumed the wise king with their inexplicability, they are as clear -to modern apprehensions as plate-glass: nay, as my aunt Jemima used -to observe, in the days when glory and greatness had come upon -her,--"Thanks be praised!" (My aunt was a religious woman, and guarded -herself from profane expressions.)--"Thanks be praised! owing to the -enlightenment of the age in which we live, even in those seven wonders -of the world there is nothing so very wonderful now." There can be no -objection on my part to allow that eclipses were pretty marvellous -transactions as long as they occurred in consequence of a bilious dragon -needing a pill, and bolting the sun to correct digestion; but ever since -dragons have adopted a different treatment, and abandoned the solar -bolus, this phenomenon has subsided into one of common-place pretension. -The age of wonders, like the New Marriage-act, has passed. - -But one wonder--single, solitary, omnipotent--oppresses me. It is, that -mankind, from ignorance of the meaning of true greatness, lay themselves -open to perpetual insult,--nay, court it. Do we not lie down patiently -as lambs, and bear impertinent biographies to be thrust before our eyes -of persons who are facetiously termed _great_? Great! implying, in a -paltry and indifferently disguised innuendo, that you, the reader, are -of course small,--stunted, as it were, in intellectual growth,--an -under-shrub,--a dwarf specimen. Without being in any way consulted in a -matter, or examined, or probed, to see what stuff may be in you, it is -taken for granted that the world has already made its odious comparisons -between your unobtrusive self and its GREAT MAN; and that, with the -promptness of a police magistrate, it has summarily decided against -you; that you, without knowing it, have been weighed in the scales and -found wanting; have flown upwards as a feather, have kicked the beam, -have moved lighter than a balloon textured of gossamer and inflated with -rarefied essence of hydrogen: a very pretty and gratifying assumption! - -Our primitive lessons in emulation generally consist, in great part, in -a series of these insults. - -The chubby little fellow, bribed to undergo the advantages of -scholarship by tardy permission to harass his young nether limbs with -trousers, usually of nankeen, finds himself immediately exhorted to -strive, in order that in time he may become a GREAT man. He images the -vague outline of a human mammoth, and sits down with scanty hope of -modelling himself accordingly. In the pride and pomp of baby ambition he -yearns to rival in stature and girth the sons of Amalek. He is small, -and perfectly conscious that he is so; but frets to exchange his little -pulpy fingers for a sinewy fist that can shake a weaver's beam: he -meditates upon great men as pumpkins, compared with which he is but a -gooseberry. He is not taught, by way of softening the injury done him by -an unnecessary contrast, that the one may be full of sweetness as the -other of insipidity. - -He waxes in years and amplitude: still hears he of that obtrusive -department in natural history, the GREAT men. He thinks not of them -as before; he no longer deems their greatness to consist in the -mere admeasurement of their cubic contents, as in the days of his -young innocence, when an extensive pudding would, in his ceremonial, -have taken precedence of name and fame. He now understands, and, by -understanding, suffers the more acutely under the impertinence. If acts -of valour and command, or of senatorial display,--if a tyranny over -empires, or mighty influence over the minds and feelings of successive -generations,--if literary renown or public benefaction constitute -greatness, he is himself of most diminutive dimensions. He knows it. He -never for a moment dreamed of denying it. He has enjoyed no scope for -being otherwise. He is perfectly aware of the fact, and would at once -have admitted it. He needs not to have it perpetually pushed into his -face, and thrust before his eyes to glare at him. The pauper feels that -he is not one of the wealthy ones of the earth, without being reminded -at every instant of the incurious circumstance by some rich bullionist -shaking his pockets that the wretch may hear the voice of the gold -jingling. His memory requires not to be so jogged on the subject. He -recognises the truth of his meagre estate, and derives not a whit of -pleasure from such external corroboration. It is an insult; and any -raciness or merit of originality in it is altogether lost upon him. The -wit is purely thrown away. - -How fares the boy when, like his primal sire, "he stands erect a man?" -and in what spirit does he study the philosophy of "greatness?" He may -bethink him of the false fruiterer's melon, how it lay on the stall, its -sunny side laughing and coquetting with the eye of the wayfarer,--its -rottenness and unsavoury portion in retirement and unseen below. He -discovers that the "great" are gigantic in one line, but that "the line -upon line" is not their predicate; in some matters they may perchance -be far smaller than their neighbours. He is no longer the boy without -experience of others, or the child who interprets literally; he measures -not the monsters by his own standard; he endeavours not to poise them -by his own weight,--with his own girth to buckle their circumference: -his acquaintance serve his turn; society establishes and confirms his -experience, that an average sprinkling of inherent "greatness" may be -detected in all, though the world hath not cared to trumpet it. - -It becomes of difficult endurance to see our intimates thrust, as -it were, on one side,--morally cast into the mire,--their qualities -trampled as by heels. It mars our equability to find our friends in -intellectual, philosophical, or worldly utility insinuated as no -better than they should be,--to hear them classed as of the herd, -essentially and merely gregarious,--vague portions of an unmeritorious -whole,--negative existences, positive only in combination,--cyphers -without value, that multiply but by relative position. Whereas in our -young days we felt personally insulted by contrast with your "great -men," in maturity we resent the impertinence as offered to our friends; -for in our friends we can trace a "greatness," although the thing -may not have been blazoned. Even in a man's household shall he see -greatness, though it be obscure; and he shall discover that, whilst it -is true that no man is "great to his valet," the comfortable conundrum -is equally demonstrable, that ALL are GREAT. Your groom shall indite -you verses that shall stir the hearts and haunt the dreams of your -village maidens--will they compare Homer to him?--and your cook-maid -shall be no small domestic oracle on the unfathomable mysteries of -phrenology--what cares she for Combe and Spurzheim? Who lives, while yet -his father lives, that does not hear the old man "great" in prophecy on -the coming "crisis," and rich and ponderous upon the currency question? -Who, in the book of the generations of his family, might not inscribe -the name of some brother, a mighty man of valour, great amongst his -playmates; or a sister, whose attire has given tone for a season to -an emulous neighbourhood? And then, in the nineteenth century, who -possesses not "great" uncles, who during the war have swayed, although -unknown, victories by their strategy or disciplined obedience; or, -in more peaceful triumph, have mightily influenced the election of a -candidate by the despotism of their oratory? Of aunts--maiden ones--it -needs not to speak. They are of the fortunate who require not greatness -to be "thrust upon them." Of them it is safely assumed, that they are -"born great" prospectively. This privilege however, is guaranteed to -the "maiden" only; for marriage absorbs the bride into unity with her -combined-separate--and "the crown of a good wife is her husband." - -Your village oracle, seated on his throne--the old oaken bench under -the village elm-tree, after his weekly labours, on the Saturday night -embalming his tongue in the aroma of the fragrant weed, and bribing his -lips into complacent humour by sips from the chirping old October, is -truly _great_. He is surrounded by listeners who love to pay homage to -his power. Whilst he whiffs, they consult him on great interests,--it -may be respecting the destiny of nations, or the desolating march of -hostile armies,--it may be on the devastations of the turnip-fly. -He lays his pipe aside; his words issue, like the syllables of the -Pythoness, in the midst of fragrant fumes. They fix at once the -unsettled,--they establish the doubtful,--they convict the speculative. - -On points of international law, Puffendorf and Grotius would shrink into -nut-shells before him; they would discover their littleness: yet some -deem _them_ great! - -Bilious disputants may deny that any can be great whom the world has not -thought fit to canonise. "Indeed!" do I reply with the sarcastic smile -of superiority with which it is customary to spill the arguments of men -of straw whom controversialists set up for the sake of knocking down -again--"Indeed! Were the Andes a whit smaller before their exact height -was proclaimed to the same arrogant world? Was not the moon as great a -ball in the days when the world esteemed it a green cheese, as it is -now, when men are acquainted with its diameter?" - -"Ay," may reply my subtle disputant; "but these are physical facts, -independent of opinion: mental, moral, social greatness, are widely -different. They have no altitudes subject to trigonometrical survey by -an ordnance-board like the Andes; they admit not of parallax, like the -planets. Master Fridolin, your illustrations are no more worth than the -kernel of a vicious nut." - -"What!" I answer, "you want a metaphysical instance, do you? Physics -are too coarse. Well, sir, '_Magna est veritas_--Truth is great,'--that -is to say, your canoniser, the _world_ say so. Now, pray, what does the -world, much more a man of straw, know about truth? Confessedly less than -it knows about my groom, who is _great_ in poetry,--my cook-maid, who is -_great_ in phrenology,--my father, who is _great_ on those hobgoblins -the coming crises; and, let me say, amazingly less than it knows, or -will know, of my aunt Jemima, who was _great_ in political economy; let -alone our village oracle, who is regarded, pipe and all, as _great_ by -a larger portion of the inhabitants of the _world_ than can boast any -intimate acquaintance with abstract verity. - -"And now, man of straw! a word in your ear:--unless you are dull in -grain, methinks you will admit yourself answered." - -No fallacy is more palpable when examined, and, consequently, none is -more preposterous, than that of connecting GREATNESS with the _world's_ -applause; yet for this, men fume and fret, struggle and strive, elbow -their neighbours, and tread on their own bunnions, forgetting that they -might be quite as _great_ if they would only be quiet; nay, that their -chance of being so, without exertion, lies, according to Shakspeare's -nice and accurate calculation, in the very comfortable proportion of -two to one in their favour. Two GREAT men out of every three, find -themselves so, without the least trouble on their own parts. They are -born so, or their greatness "is thrust upon them." They have nothing -to do in life but to button in the morning, unbutton at night, sip, -masticate, and sleep, if their conscience and digestion will permit: -they find themselves not a whit less great. The third alone--the "odd -one"--acquires GREATNESS; and "odd" enough it is, to discover a sample -of this meagre class. - -But the case may be settled to mathematical certainty. Statistical -inquirers--men, the breath of whose nostrils are the bills of -mortality--have discovered that a tenth part of all men born into the -world die and are buried before one brief year has passed. It follows, -therefore, as a corollary, that of those "born great" a great proportion -die _great_ when extremely little. Their nurses see one tenth of all -"the great men" born, fade and expire, hydrocephalic or rickety, ere -their tendencies and tastes have toddled beyond the pap-boat. What -does the world know about this evanescent tenth? What does mankind -trouble about the grave offence of the sepulchre in seizing and gobbling -up annually these great and small tithes? What say they against its -appropriating clause? Why, the world is clearly ignorant of the departed -great ones,--the buried little ones; yet their greatness is indisputable. - -The true philosophy of the matter, is the philosophy of the matters -herein set forth; and, in her latter days, my aunt Jemima acknowledged -it, for she felt it. There were no great women when she was youthful; -but she lived to perceive greatness come upon her. It was not thrust--it -was inherent: but it took time and acted leisurely in developing -itself. It was not a creation or an acquisition, but a developement, an -exudation of that which would _out_,--_nolens volens_. - -The real truth is this,--_All_ under circumstances are great, although -few are aware that they are so. Celebrity has nothing to do with the -affair; it may proclaim the fact, but does not constitute it;--as will -hereafter be shown in the instance of my aunt Jemima. - F. HARRISON RANKIN. - - - - - SCENES IN THE LIFE OF A GAMBLER. - - "Lasciate ogni speranza voi che entrate." - -Paris!--there was once a magic in the name--a music in the sound. -"Paris!" how often said I to myself when in another quarter of the -globe, "Yes, I will one day visit thee--will revive the memory of -the great events of which thou hast been the arena--thy Fronde--the -League--the Revolution--the Cent Jours--the history of thy chivalrous -François--thy noble-minded Henri--the Grand Monarque--the witty and -profligate Regent--thy unfortunate Louis, and still more pitiable -Empereur;--and then, the Gallery of the Louvre--the Museum of the -Luxembourg--Versailles--St. Cloud--the Tuileries!" My dream was about to -be realised. - -I was then in my twenty-fifth year. I had health--a sufficiency of the -goods of fortune to purchase the enjoyment of the moderate pleasures -of life. My person and manners were agreeable; my acquirements greater -then those of most of my college contemporaries; and the fine arts were -"my passion and my enjoyment." All these advantages, with a pardonable -egotism, I had been canvassing during my solitary journey (solitary? -no, my mind was occupied with the most enchanting reveries--the most -intoxicating visions) from which I was only awakened at the barrier -of Montmartre. How my heart beat with delight as, from the eminence -that overlooks the city, I beheld its spires, and domes, and houses, -huddled in the vaporous gloom of an evening in May! The day had been -a glorious one; the air breathed balm. My caleche was open; and four -posters whirled me rapidly through the Boulevards, and entered the -gateway of the Hotel des Princes in the Rue Richelieu. This street was, -as all who are acquainted with it, know, the centre and focus of the -fashion,--the life and motion of Paris, and of the foreigners who then -flocked to it from all parts of Europe, (for it was the third year of -the Restoration,) and had caught some of the volatile spirit of its -mercurial people. - -Times and dynasties change. Politics, that many-headed monster, now -reigns supreme. Instead of the goddess Pleasure,--at whose shrine -all sacrificed,--they have set up the Gorgon of parties. The army is -no "état"--the church is no "état." It is become a city of national -guards--reviewed by a king, with his three sons,--a family marked for -assassination. There is no court--no _ancienne noblesse_. Everywhere -distress and misery, hate and calumny, persecution and imprisonment, -ruin, the grippe, and bankruptcy. Such is a picture of the Paris of 1837. - -But I was in the Rue Richelieu--the great artery of the life's blood -of Paris. From it, as from a floodgate, rushed along in conflicting -eddies, sweeping like a torrent, a crowd in quest of pleasure. Some -were hurrying to the gaming-houses; some _aux Italiens_, to the Ambigu, -of the Varietés, and the different theatres; others to the Palais -Royal, which in its magic circle comprehends all that vice or luxury -can invent to seduce the imagination or gratify the sense; then to -Tortoni's, or the innumerable cafés, there to enjoy the _al fresco_ of -the Boulevards Italiens seated under the trees, or to mingle with the -multitude, chatting, laughing, or whispering in delighted ears under the -well-lighted avenue of elms that had just put forth their young leaves. -I made one of the throng, and would that _Armida_ Paris had had no worse -enchantments--no more seductive pleasures. Alas! what have I now to do -with them?--they have lost their charm. My hair is grey,--my heart is -withered! - -But I anticipate. - -What do the phrenologists mean, by not having assigned to their chart -of the skull a place for play? Gall, during his long practice in Paris, -might surely have discovered it; for, of all people, the Parisians have -this passion the most strongly developed. It is common, indeed, to the -most savage, as well as the most civilised nations; for I have seen -the Hindu strip himself naked, and bet at chukra the last rag in his -possession; the African stakes his wife and children; but our neighbours -may plunge their families, to the third and fourth generation, in misery -and destitution. The pauper sells his only bed: the cradle of his child. -The manufacturer takes to the Mont de Pieté his tools; steals those of -his employers. The diplomatist and the figurante, the financier and the -mendicant, all fall down before one idol--a Moloch worse than that of -the Valley of Gehenna--a monster without pity or remorse, who delights -in the tears, and groans, and gnashings of teeth of his votaries, nor -quits his prey till he tracks them to the Morgue--name of horrid sound! -and yet, the last refuge and sole resting-place of his infatuated -victims. - -How easy it is to moralise! I should like to know if I always had this -infernal bias, or if it was engrafted in me, or whether I was seized -at that time with the general epidemy, taking the infection, like the -cholera, from those about me, or from the air which I was respiring. Oh, -worse than wind-walking pestilence is play! It has a subtle poison, and -more kinds of death; no, not death! for, _I_ live,--if dying from day to -day can be called life. - -The first weeks of my _séjour_ passed like days, nay hours; but I did -not confine myself to Paris itself. Few foreigners, or even natives, -know the beauty of the environs. These were the scenes of my rides by -day. In the evening I assisted at some French _réunion_, or mixed in -the _soirées_ of our own country; frequented the Opera Italienne, where -not a note is lost: and such notes!--for Pasta was the prima donna. -Being "_un peu friand_," I frequently dined at the Rocher de Concal. I -mention that restaurant because I have reason to remember it. The Rocher -de Concal boasts none of the magnificence of Very's, or Beauvilliers. -The entrance is encumbered with the shells of the _huitres d'Ostende_, -the most delicious of oysters. The rooms are not much larger than boxes -at the opera; but they enclose a world of fun. The rustling of silk is -often heard there, and one meets in the narrow passages veiled forms -hastening to some mysterious rendezvous. - -It was here that I became acquainted with the Prince M----. His was a -fatal initial; and might have reminded me of what he proved to be,--my -Mephistophiles! M---- was one of those princes that "_fourmillent_" in -all the capitals of Europe. He was about thirty years of age. His figure -was tall, slight, and emaciated, and corresponded with his countenance, -that was of a paleness approaching to marble, and might be said to have -no expression, so complete a mastery had he obtained over his feelings. -His equipage had nothing at first sight remarkable. The cabriolet was of -a sombre colour, and the harness without ornaments; but the horse was -not to be matched for beauty and power. His dress seemed equally plain; -but, on closer inspection, you discovered it was of a studied elegance, -the colours being so well matched that the eye had nothing particular -on which to rest. He never was known to laugh, and seldom smiled; he -was rather cold, though not forbidding in his manners, and perfectly -indifferent whether he amused or not. He never spoke of the politics of -the day, of his domains, of his stud or family,--much less of himself, -his exploits, or his adventures. He never made an observation that was -worthy of being repeated, yet never said a foolish thing. With the sex -he was a great favourite, for he perfectly understood the science of -flattery; but it was with the utmost tact that he put it in requisition. -His address was perfect: he spoke French, and indeed several languages, -with that admirable choice of phrase for which the Russians are -remarkable. The sole occupation of his life was play; and to win or lose -seemed a matter of perfect indifference to him, whatever the stake. - -There was also of the party that day another foreigner, Baron A----, who -had been a Jew. He was his _compagnon de voyage_. Castor and Pollux were -not more inseparable. This _alter ego_ was a little man, with a grey eye -of singular archness, and a light moustache, as most Germans have. His -whole fortune consisted of five hundred louis, which he carried about -with him;--an excellent nest-egg; for he contrived to double annually -this poor capital. One year he was at Rome, another at Florence, a -third at Vienna--no; there he was too well known. A gambler, like a -prophet, has no honour in his own country. The last spring he had passed -in London, where, of course, be had the _entrée_ at Almack's, and now -opened the campaign under the most promising auspices at Paris. The -baron was a sort of lion's-provider--the pilot-fish of the shark. - -We separated at an early hour, and I afterwards met my new _friends_ -at an hotel in the Fauxbourg St. Honoré, where there was, as usual, an -écarté-table. Ecarté was then all the rage; though, like our all-fours, -it had originally been the game of the _peuple_, or rather in Paris of -the _laquais_. It is a game uniting skill and chance; but it is a game -of countenance; a game, also, in which the cards played with, being -fewer in number than at whist, it is no difficult matter to scratch an -important one, so as to know in time of need where to find it, or to -_sauter le coup_. That evening, for the first time, I was induced to -take a hand, and, in my innocence of such manoeuvres, wondered that my -opponent turned up the king so much oftener than myself. In time my eyes -were opened, and I discovered that other _tricheries_ were practicable. -For instance, one morning, after a ball given by an English lady, there -were found rolled up in one corner of the room two queens and a knave; -and, on examining the écarté packs, these were missing,--had literally -been discarded,--a circumstance which rendered the success of two -officers of the _garde de corps_, who cleaned out the party, by no means -problematical. But I was now initiated; and a witty writer says, - - "That where that pestilence, play, once leaves a taint, - It saps the bone, and pierces to the marrow, - And then 'tis easier to extract an arrow." - -How willing we all are to put off the evil moment: to string anecdote -on anecdote, and weave parenthesis in parenthesis, rather than come to -the point! Does it not remind us of the tricks of the wrestler to avoid -the grasp of his more powerful antagonist? But it must come: so let me -proceed with my confession. - -As I was leaving the room, the prince came up to me and said, "Demain -voulez-vous, Monsieur, être des notres?--There is a dinner at the -_salon_, and I will take you with me as my 'umbra,' and present you to -the Marquis--." In an evil hour I consented. - -The _maisons de jeu_ at Paris are farmed by a society, who purchase of -the government the privilege of opening a certain limited number--if I -remember right, five. In order to prevent unfair play, a _commis_ of -the police is in daily attendance at the opening of the packs of cards, -and they are lodged in the office every night. So far so good. But the -advantages in favour of the bank are so great, that after the payment -of several hundred thousand pounds sterling to the revenue, after -defraying the expenses of hotels, cashiers, croupiers, lackeys, &c. &c. -the _associés_ divide twenty or thirty per cent. At the head of these -establishments is the _salon des étrangers_. The prime minister, or -master of the ceremonies, was then the Marquis de L----. He was the last -of the _aisles de pigeon_, which he wore _bien poudrées_. He had been -an _emigré_, and, like many of them, had passed twenty years in England -without knowing a word of the language. He was distinguished by an ease -of manner and a politeness, though rather exaggerated, of the _vieille -cour_. Soon after my introduction to him he lost his appointment, it -having been discovered that the cashier, _by some mistake_, nightly gave -him fifty napoleons in exchange for a billet of five hundred francs. -By-the-by, the office of president of the _salon_ was in considerable -request, and was afterwards filled by a general officer who had once -been in the English service. - -It was one of the dinners that were given three times a-week. We -passed through a range of servants in splendid liveries, to the _salon -à manger_, where I found sixty guests, consisting, not only of the -foreigners most distinguished for rank, fortune, and consideration, but -_pairs de France, deputés_ of all parties,--in fact, the _élite_ of -Paris. Before each, was placed a _carte_. It was not one of your English -bills of fare, with its _plats de resistance_; but earth, air, and ocean -had been ransacked, and all the skill of the most consummate _artistes_ -employed to furnish out the table. Every sort of wine circulated in -quick succession; but, when I looked around me, I saw no hilarity in -this assembly. The viands seemed to pall upon the taste, the goblet -passed unquaffed. Gambling is the most selfish of vices; it admits of no -society; every one seemed too much occupied with his own thoughts even -to address his neighbour. Was I happy myself? No. The soul instinctively -seems to foresee all the miseries that originate from a single false -step, inspiring us with certain vague apprehensions that with a vain -casuistry we endeavour to dissipate. In fact, I never enjoyed a dinner -less; and was as pleased at its termination as most of the party were -anxious for the real object of the meeting--_le commencement de la fin, -ou la fin du commencement--le jeu_. - -The hotel where we assembled was of the time of Louis the Fifteenth, -and had belonged to one of his numerous mistresses; the taste, however, -of his predecessor reigned there. In front was a _cour d'honneur_, -large enough to drawn the rattle of carriages and noise from without; -and behind, was a garden laid out in the English style, and full -of odoriferous shrubs, then in full bloom, particularly the lilac, -the laburnum, and the red-thorn, that wafted their perfume through -the unfolded doors, whilst at intervals was heard the plashing of -a fountain. The three principal rooms, two of which were dedicated -to _rouge et noir_ and French hazard, were in shape octagonal; the -compartments, which were fantastically chased, and rich in gilding, -served as a frame-work to pictures in the manner of Watteau, and -probably by the hand of one of his pupils. The ceilings were similar in -taste, and described some exploits of Jupiter, whose representative was -the monarch himself according to the fashion of the day. The only light -in each of these apartments, proceeded from a lamp shaded by green silk, -that diffused its mellow and softened rays around, and threw a brilliant -and dazzling effulgence on the table. Along the centre were ranged the -dealers and bankers; and before them heaps of gold and silver, and -_billets de banc_, and red and white counters, their representatives. -On both sides were the players; and the broad glare, shadowless and -impending, displayed their features. Many of them were known to me by -name. There was, with his noble and portly figure and countenance, much -resembling the busts of Charles Fox, the late Earl of T----, who with -perfect _sangfroid_ lost his twenty-five thousand pounds a-year, and -thought the only use of money was to buy pieces of ivory marked with -numbers on them, and that the next pleasure in life to winning, was to -lose. To his right was B---- H----, with his handsome profile, Hyperion -locks, and unmeaning red-and-white face, incapable of an expression -either of joy or chagrin: Lord M----, who went by the sobriquet of Père -la Chaise; S----, bent double with care, and wrinkled with premature old -age; the young and emaciated Lord Y----, the only one of his family who -resembles his father, and inheriting from him the same propensity: and -by his side Benjamin Constant, whose ardent spirit, like the volcano -under Vesuvius, was for ever breaking out in the excitement of love, or -politics, or play; his hair was grey, as if scorched by the working of -his brain; his frame consumed as by an inward fire; his cheek bloodless -as that of a corpse, for which, but for his eye, he might have been -taken;--there was a desolateness in every trait of his countenance, -and nervous sensibility accompanied every cast of the die that it was -painful to witness. These were some of the _crêpes_ party. The Prince -M---- was not among them: he had found more attractive metal--was -closeted in a cabinet at écarté. - -For some hours I looked on, as an indifferent spectator. I had come -fortified by a long colloquy held with myself, the result of which was -a determination not to be duped. I had had too much experience of the -world to fall into the snare--I had resisted many worse temptations--I -knew too well the chances to risk even the few napoleons cautiously put -into my purse. "Facilis descensus Averni," says the poet. Insensibly I -took an interest in the game. I flattered my self-vanity by thinking -that, when such a one threw in, I should not have been on the _contre_, -or should have withdrawn my money before he _sauted_,--that I should -have taken the odds, or betted them differently from Lord This or -Monsieur _Tel_. In short, for me the veil of Isis was lifted, the -mysteries of play revealed. I alone was inspired; and so for once it -was to prove. One of the circle left his seat, and I filled up the -vacancy. I sat writhing till my turn came. All had thrown out, and -all had backed the casters. I now took the box: by my clumsy way of -handling it, and shaking the dice, it was perceived that I was a tyro. -And now the _contre_ was covered with gold and notes: "Seven!" I cried; -"eleven's the nick!" I changed the main: still my luck continued. In -short, I threw in nine times, leaving all my winnings to accumulate, and -found myself in possession of twenty-four thousand francs. It was now -suggested to me that the bank was only responsible for twelve thousand. -Twice more did I tempt Fortune, and with equal success; and then handed -over the box, and gave up my place to a new comer; and, without any one -seeming to notice my departure, betook myself to my apartment--but not -to sleep. I was in a fever of delight; visions more enchanting than -those of Eldorado visited my couch. I had found the magic wand,--had -gained the golden branch in the Æneid,--opened to myself a mine of -wealth,--an inexhaustible treasure. At daybreak I raised myself in the -bed, and counted it,--arranged in heaps the glittering treasure. I -had all Paris in my hand! I would have an hotel, I would have horses, -carriages, all that wealth could purchase should be mine. That gold -which others sighed for, toiled for, sinned for, was mine, easily -obtained, and won expressly to be spent. Horace, when in his poetic -dream of immortality he cried "Album mutor in alitem," and soared above -the heads of the admiring world, felt no raptures compared with mine. - -My success was soon blazoned abroad, and my gains exaggerated. In the -course of the day I had a visit of congratulation from the prince. -"There is a fête and ball at Frascati," said he, on taking leave; "you -will be there?" There was a devilish smile on his face. It was the first -time I had ever seen him smile. - -It was ten o'clock, and that temple of Circe was flooded with light, and -filled with women and men of all ages;--no, not of all, for one of the -conditions of admission is, besides being well dressed, that a person -must be _of age_. _Le Jeu_ has no objection to the gold of a father, a -lover, or a husband; but he disdains the pocket-money of a minor. He has -great respect for all the decencies of life: he requires a well-filled -purse and an elegant toilette. Enter, ye rich and lively!--come, and -welcome! There is sure to be gold where there are women, and woman where -there is gold. - -At the entrance of this hell, the _laquais_, after a scrutiny of my -person, took my hat, and, by means of an iron instrument attached to -a long pole, with a practised dexterity lifted it to peg 200, where -it assumed its place in the well-marshalled ranks of its comrades. -I afterwards observed that it was the only thing most of the owners -carried away with them. - -The first room was occupied by a roulette table. The grand saloon,--of -which there is, or was, an admirable picture in the Oxford Street -Bazaar, containing the well-known portraits of very many who frequented -it,--is dedicated to _rouge et noir_, or _trente et quarante_, and was -encircled two or three deep by a crowd of both sexes, all preserving -a profound silence, only interrupted by the _Messieurs, faites votre -jeu!--Le jeu est fait!--Rien plus!_ of the dealer; for the noise of -the _ratliers_ that had shovelled the gold and five-franc pieces into -a heap had ceased, and all were breathlessly awaiting the _coup_. -The _coup_ was made: _quarante: Rouge gagne_. It was then a horrid -sight to mark the expression of the different feelings that agitated -this assembly--this Pandæmonium! Some tore their hair from their -heads in handsful,--some gnashed their teeth like the damned in the -Sistine chapel,--others, their eyes almost starting out of their -sockets, uttered horrid oaths, and blasphemous exclamations,--and one, -who had his hand in his breast, withdrew it, dyed in blood, without -being sensible of the wounds his nails had inflicted! But, as if this -spectacle of tortured and degraded humanity were not enough, it was -still more appalling to observe the countenances of the women, who had -staked their last louis on the turn of the card! Their splendid dresses, -their silks and gauze, their _cachemires de l'Inde_, that glitter of -gold and gems, their necklaces of pearl, and ear-rings of diamond,--all -that serves to heighten and embellish beauty, by a horrid contrast only -gave them a greater deformity, reminding us of Pauline Borghese on her -death-bed daubing her cadaverous cheeks with rouge, and tricking herself -out in the same magnificent costume she had worn in the Tuileries when -she shone the wonder and admiration of Paris; assuming in the last -agonies of dissolution the voluptuous attitude she had chosen for that -masterpiece of art, that wonderful creation of the greatest of modern -sculptors, Canova. - -Oh! that these Phrynes could at that moment have seen in the mirrors -that on all sides reflected them, their hollow eyes--their violet -lips--their livid cheeks! The snakes of Leonardo's Medusa would have -made them perfect. No; they had no eyes or ears but for that hideous old -Sultan whose seraglio they had formed,--_le Jeu_. - -The _rouge et noir_ table being thus _agreeably_ filled, I sat down to -roulette, and placed before me my packet of notes; being determined -this time to break the bank. I turned some of my _billets_ into gold, -and began, during the revolutions of the wheel of Fortune, to cover the -cyphers. Sixty-two times the original stake would be good interest for -less than as many seconds! Now for my inspiration--but this time my -spirit of prophecy had fled. There was no prize for me. The ball still -made its accustomed rounds, and lost itself in some number where I had -no stake: now it bounded along, and hung suspended like a bird hovering -over its nest; and then, just as it was about to crown my wishes, took -a new spring, and, with a provoking coquetry, lavished its favours on -one who had not courted them with half, perhaps only the twentieth -part, of the fervour I had done. Sometimes, as if to lead me on in the -pursuit, she tantalised me by hiding herself in the next number to that -I had chosen; and then, the succeeding minute crushed all my hopes, and -reduced them to nothing, with some zero rouge or zero blanc, or the -double misery of two zeros. - -I now gave up the lottery of numbers, and betook myself to that of -colours. Still I was no diviner. If I made black my favourite, there -was sure to be a run on red; and _vice versâ_. I lost my coolness--my -temper. I doubled my stakes,--trebled them. Still the _ratliers_ did -their merciless office; the _croupiers_ still with imperturbable -nonchalance swept into a gulph, from which was no return, my notes -and gold. In short, in a few hours, I was not only stript of all my -winnings, but had borrowed of one of the lackeys three thousand francs, -which I was to return the next morning, with a premium of two per cent. -He was one of the myrmidons of the _salon des étrangers_, and knew I had -the _entrée_, and that the loan was a safe one; nay, he pressed me to -borrow more: but--_ohe, jam satis!_--I hurried to my porter's lodge, and -thence to my apartment, but in a widely different mood to that in which -I had entered it the night before. All the scenes of wealth and riches -that my imagination had conjured up, had vanished. I had horrid dreams. -The curtain was withdrawn; it showed me the sad reality of all that had -happened, and all that was to happen. - -The next day I locked my room-door, and held a long dialogue with my -conscience. I felt two powers at work within me--two inclinations -striving for mastery--two persons, as it were, one acting against and -in spite of the other. I endeavoured to arm myself against myself. It -was a violent struggle between the principles of good and evil. Whether, -like Hercules, I should have made the same choice, I know not; but vice -never wants for arguments or supporters, and in the afternoon came an -invitation, by one of his emissaries, from the prince, to dine with him. -My foible--the rock on which I have made shipwreck--has been, that I -never could say, no. I accepted it. - -Besides the inseparables, were present, on this occasion, a Prussian -colonel and a Polish count. The dinner was _recherché_; the dishes -having been sent from different _restaurants_ famous for their -_cuisine_: the _ravioli_, for instance, from an Italian house, and the -_omelette Russe_ from the _café de Paris_. The mock and real champagne -were well iced, and the Chambertín a bouquet of violets. I endeavoured -to find a Lethe in the glass, which circulated freely, though it only -circulated; for the prince, on the plea of health, drank lemonade, and -his guests, as the Italians say, baptised their Lafitte with water. Two -nights such as I had passed did not diminish the effect of the wine; and -when it was proposed to play at faro, though I knew nothing of the game, -I made no objection. It was suggested that the baron should be banker. -He had come ready prepared; opened his strong box, and produced his five -hundred louis. The practised neatness with which he turned up the cards, -the accuracy of his calculations, and correctness of his accounts, might -have excited the admiration of any _croupier_ at the _salon_; certainly -none of them understood his _métier_ better. I began with very small -stakes, which were unlimited. I soon, however, followed the example of -the circle, and played higher. I lost. The two strangers appeared to -lose also, and retired at an early hour. - -I had added one hundred louis to the baron's capital. Whilst I was -in search of my hat to make my escape, A---- had been employed in -preparing an écarté pack, and offered to give me my _revanche_; our host -encouraging me to take it by saying he would back me. - -I sat down; and, as the prince was interested in the result, I asked -his advice, but he told me, he never gave or took it. My adversary had -an extraordinary run of luck,--almost always _voled_ me when I did not -propose, and scored the king so often that I could not help observing -it. The prince in the mean time walked about the room, occasionally -looking over my cards; at length he declined participating in my stakes, -and betted with me largely on his own account. Ill fortune continued -to pursue me; still I played higher and higher, till my score had -swelled to a frightful amount. My immense losses sobered me, and I -then had my suspicions that all was not right. Opposite to the table -was a mirror over the chimney, which extended from the marble-slab to -the ceiling. I was fronting it, when I perceived by the reflection, -the prince standing over my shoulder: he was taking snuff, and, in the -act of so doing, raised up his fingers in a manner that excited my -attention. I now determined to watch the pair more closely. I observed -that the German always awaited the sign before he decided on proposing -or refusing; and once inadvertently did so, without even looking at his -own hand. It is true, we were both at four, but I had not an _atout_ -or court-card: the consequence was, that I lost the game. It was now -clear that I had fallen into the hands of sharpers. I found myself -minus thirty thousand francs. Throwing down the pack, I got up, and -walked about the room for some time, in order to collect my thoughts and -consider how to act. Though confident of having been cheated; almost -unknown as I was in Paris, I was aware it would not be easy to convince -their numerous and powerful friends of the fact. I therefore determined -to pay the money, and insult one or the other so grossly that he must -give me my _revanche_ in a different way. Thinking that the scheme, -however concocted, had been put in execution at the prince's own house, -and that it was rendered still blacker by a breach of hospitality, I -made choice of him with perfect self-possession. I asked for pen, ink, -and paper; and having written cheques payable on demand at my bankers' -in London for the _par nobile fratrum_, I turned to the prince, and -said, presenting him with his share of the plunder, "Monsieur, voilà -votre argent: vous savez comment il étoit gagné." Running his eye over -the amount to ascertain if it were correct, he carefully folded up the -paper, and put it in his pocket; and then, with imperturbable coolness, -turned to me, and said, "Monsieur, vous m'avez insulté, et vous me -ferez l'honneur de m'en rendre raison." "Très, très volontiers," I -replied; "c'est ce que je cherchois." "The sooner the better," said the -prince; "I will leave my friend the baron to settle the preliminaries." -With these words he walked slowly to the door, and left me with his -associate. He had not been gone more than a few minutes, when the -Polish count, who was lodging in the same hotel, (it was in the Rue de -la Paix,) and had just returned from some orgies, made his appearance, -probably thinking to find us still engaged in play. The baron, without -entering into particulars, immediately explained to him that the prince -and myself had had a serious misunderstanding, and that it had ended -in his claiming satisfaction. I was not sufficiently intimate with any -one in Paris to disturb him at that hour in the morning; and, thinking -it a mere formality to have a second, readily asked the count to be -my friend. He consented with the best grace imaginable. It was now -explained to me, that it is the custom (though I believe such is not the -case) for the challenger to choose his own weapons. - -"The prince," observed the baron, "has two blades of the finest Spanish -steel; they are beautifully watered, and it is a pleasure to look at -them. They have never yet been used: Monsieur," added he, addressing -the count, "shall have his choice." All this was said with the utmost -nonchalance, as though he had been only treating of a trial of skill, -and not a duel _à l'outrance_. - -I had never taken a fencing-lesson since I was at school, and then -only for a few months of old Angelo. The prince I knew to be almost as -dexterous in the art as a _maître d'armes_. The first qualification for -an accomplished gambler is to be a duellist; foils were at that moment -lying in a corner of the room, and he had probably been practising the -very day before; indeed it was almost the only exercise he took at any -time. - -To have made, however, my want of skill a plea for the adoption of -pistols, might, I knew, be answered by the baron's professing the -prince to be the worst of shots; besides its being a deviation from the -established rule in such cases for me to have a voice. - -Strange to say, I felt little uneasiness on the subject: I had a quick -eye, great activity, and superior physical strength; and I had heard -that the most expert fencer is often at a loss to parry the determined -assault of an aggressor, even though he should hardly know the use of -his weapon. A sense, too, of my wrongs, and a desire of revenge, added -to that moral courage in which I was never deficient, rendered me bold -and confident. - -It was now broad daylight. The _fiacre_ rattled up to the door, and -the count and I, got into it; the prince following in his cabriolet, -accompanied by A----. We drove through the _Champs Elyseés_, passed the -_Port Maillot_, and, without meeting a single carriage, arrived at our -destination. If there were ever a spot where a lover of nature might die -almost without regret, it is this favourite resort of the _beau monde_ -of Paris. Avenues ankle-deep in sand, cut into straight lines; _allées_ -without verdure, that lead to nothing; a wood without trees. Such is the -_Bois de Boulogne_. - -The coachman, who had a perfect knowledge of the localities, and the -object of our morning ride, pulled up at a spot where four roads met; -and, having alighted, we followed an ill-defined path for a few hundred -yards, till we came to an opening in the brushwood that was scarcely -above our heads. It had served for a recent encounter, for I perceived -the prince step on one side to avoid a stain of blood on one of the -tufts of grass that here and there rose rankly among the sand. He -appeared not to notice it, and continued to talk on indifferent subjects -to his companion. - -Having received our swords, all new, and bright, and glittering, as the -baron promised they should be, and taken up our ground, without waiting -to cross blades, I precipitated myself on my adversary, and endeavoured -to beat down his guard: so impetuous was my onset, that he retreated, -or, rather, I drove him before me for several yards. Those who have -not experienced it, may conceive what a strange grating sensation the -meeting of two pieces of steel produces; but they cannot be aware how -it quickens the pulse, and that there is in every electric shock, such -fierce rage, and hatred, and revenge, as burnt within me then. Still, -however, the prince parried my thrusts, and kept me at arm's length. All -I now remember is, that I made a last desperate lunge--that I almost -lost my balance--that I felt the point of my adversary's sword enter my -side, and then a film came over my eyes. When I awoke from this trance, -I found myself in a crowded hospital, with a _Soeur de Charité_ -leaning over me. - - - - - LES POISSONS D'AVRIL. - REDDY O'DRYSCULL, SCHOOLMASTER, ETC., TO THE EDITOR. - - _Water-grass-hill, 20th March._ -SIR,--In answer to your application for further scraps of the late P. -P., and in reply to your just reproof of my remissness in forwarding, -as agreed upon, the monthly supplies to your Miscellany, I have only to -plead as my "apology" the "fast of Lent," which in these parts is kept -with such rigour as totally to dry up the genial moisture of the brain, -and desiccate the [Greek: kala reethra] of the fancy. In "justice to -Ireland" I must add, that, by the combined exertions of patriots and -landlords, we are kept at the proper starving-point all the year round; -a blissful state not likely to be disturbed by any provisions in the -new Irish "poor law." My correspondence must necessarily be _jejune_ -like the season. I send you, however, an appropriate song, which our -late pastor used to chaunt over his red-herring whenever a friend from -Cork would drop in to partake of such lenten entertainment as his frugal -kitchen could afford. - - - - - THE SIGNS OF THE ZODIAC. - A GASTRONOMICAL CHAUNT. - - Sunt Aries, Taurus, Cancer, Leo, Scorpio, Virgo, - Libraque et Arcitenens, Gemini, Caper, Amphora, Pisces. - - I. - Of a tavern the Sun every month takes "the run," - And a dozen each year wait his wishes; - One month with old Prout he takes share of a trout, - And puts up at the sign of THE FISHES. - 'Tis an old-fashioned inn, but more quiet within - Than THE BULL or THE LION--both boisterous; - And few would fain dwell at THE SCORPION-hôtel, - Or THE CRAB...But this last is an oyster-house. - - II. - At the sign of THE SCALES fuller measure prevails; - At THE RAM the repast may be richer: - Old Goëthe oft wrote at the sign of THE GOAT, - Tho' at times he'd drop in at THE PITCHER; - And those who have stay'd at the sign of THE MAID, - In desirable quarters have tarried; - While some for their sins must put up with THE TWINS, - Having had the mishap to get married. - - III. - But THE FISHES combine in one mystical sign - A moral right apt for the banquet; - And a practical hint, which I ne'er saw in print, - Yet a Rochefoucault maxim I rank it:-- - If a secret I'd hide, or a project confide, - To a comrade's good faith and devotion, - Oh! the friend whom I'd wish, though he _drank_ like a _fish_, - Should be _mute_ as the tribes of the ocean. - - - - - THE ANATOMY OF COURAGE. - BY PRINCE PUCKLER MUSKAU. - - IN A LETTER TO A FRIEND. - -As for the article of courage and its various manifestations, it is a -very peculiar thing: I have thought much about it, and observed a great -deal; and I am convinced that, except in romances, there are very few -men who at all times show distinguished, and _none at all_ who possess -_perfect_ courage. I should esteem any man who maintained the contrary -of himself, and who asserted that he did not know what fear was, a -mere braggart; but, nevertheless, I should not consider it my duty to -tell him so, to his face. There are endless _varieties_ of courage, -which may, however, be comprised under three general dispositions of -temperament, and six principal rubrics; within this arrangement a -thousand modifications still remain, but I cannot here pursue them. - -We come, first, to three sorts of that courage which alone can be called -natural, and which, like all that nature gives _directly_, is perfect; -that is, without any mixture of fear so long as _it lasts_, and which, -therefore, has only a temporary influence. These are, - -1. Courage from passion, such as love, anger, vengeance, and so forth. - -2. From hunger, or the want of any thing indispensable to existence. - -3. From habit, which, according to a law of nature, hardens completely -against particular kinds of permanent danger. - -All the others are artificial, but not, therefore, imperfect; that is, -they are not always without admixture of fear, the result either of -a dawning, or on already advanced state of civilization. They may be -divided into - -_a._ Courage out of vanity. - -_b._ Out of a feeling of honour. - -_c._ Out of duty; under which head may be reckoned the inspiration of -religion, and all kinds of enthusiasm; which is also closely allied -to _a_. At last we come to the physical conformation which supports -courage, or renders it difficult of exhibition, or puts it altogether -out of the question. - -(There is certainly a fourth kind of courage, in some measure the shady -side of the others,--courage from avarice. I omitted it, because it is -rather an enormity, and can only produce criminals; it is, therefore, -allied to madness, of which I do not speak here.) - -They are, firstly, a strong and healthy nervous system, and a sanguine -temperament. - -Secondly, a weak and excitable constitution, which is called _par -excellence_ a nervous constitution. - -Thirdly, that unfortunate defective formation, probably of the nerves -of the brain, which produces an unconquerable timidity, becomes real -suffering and a regular malady, rendering all manifestations of courage -next to impossible. - -That these divisions are subject to more or less modification, and -often branch off into each other through inward motives, or external -influences, follows of course. I will in few words touch upon these -powers in their general and universal operation, and examine how the -different value of the chief combinations are classified. - -One, two, and three, I give up; for every one knows that with both man -and beast, when a beloved object is in danger, or under the influence -of a natural impulse, or when animated by a blind rage, or pinched -by hunger, instinct alone acts, and timidity vanishes: but let the -excitement cease, and the courage disappears also. When full of food, -the lion flees before the feeblest man; and, when the hunger of the -terrible boa is quite appeased, it may be laid hold of, without danger. -It is equally well known that habit would make us forget the sword -suspended over our heads by a single hair. The soldier, continually in -battle, is as indifferent to bullets as the boy to the flying ball: and -yet the same soldier would shudder at a species of danger that the most -cowardly spy encounters in cold blood, and, in all probability, would -feel real terror if he were compelled to a conflict with a tiger, which -the timid Indian, armed with a short sword, and protected only by a -green shield, will go in search of and subdue. The boldest mariner is -often absurdly fearful in a carriage; and I have known a brave officer -who turned pale whenever he was obliged to leap his horse over a hedge -or a ditch. - -But the case is very different when the courage of civilisation makes -common cause with the physical disposition. If No. 1, in its highest -perfection, be conjoined with _a_, _b_, and _c_, it is easy to see that -the individual uniting the whole will be the bravest possible man; when, -however, No. 1 stands alone, precious as it is, in, and for itself, -there is but little dependence on it. The weaker No. 2, united to _a_, -_b_, or _c_, is a rock compared to it: for the last motives have this -great and invaluable quality--they are lasting, while No. 1 depends -upon time and circumstance; and then will produce only the _so-called_ -naturally brave, of whom the Spaniards say, _He was brave in his -day_; No. 1 reduced to his own resources would perhaps encounter with -vermilion cheeks and perfect cheerfulness, danger that would make No. 2 -+ _a_, _b_, or _c_, pale and serious. - -Notwithstanding this, it is by no means certain whether No. 1 would -not be seized with a panic in the fight, for all his red cheeks; but -No. 2, with his powerful auxiliary, certain that he must fight, is -quite secure, while the colour returns to his cheek even in the midst -of the danger. As soon as fear seizes No. 1, it must influence his -action; with No. 2 + _a_, _b_, or _c_, it is a matter of indifference -whether he feels fear or no, as it will be neutralized by the permanent -auxiliary qualifications, and its influence on his actions nullified. -And, although No. 1 + _a_, _b_, _c_, must always remain the _summum -perfectum_, yet No. 2 + _a_, _b_, _c_, will sometimes do bolder and more -surprising things, because the nervous excitement is more strongly acted -on; especially if enthusiasm be brought into play. - -The other sex, for instance, never possess any other than this species -of courage; and if our manners had not, as well out of vanity, as a -feeling of honour and duty, entirely dispensed with courage in them, and -directed their whole education on this principle, then a lady, No. 2 + -_a_ alone, even without _b_ and _c_, would certainly have surpassed the -bravest man in point of courage, and would probably have been victor in -every combat, where only this courage and its endurance, and not merely -physical strength or skill, should decide. - -No. 1 gifted also with _a_, _b_, _c_, would be brave sometimes, and -sometimes not; if No. 2, however, were equally _a_, _b_, _c_, then the -disadvantageous side of such a disposition would come into action, and -No. 2 would in this case be a regular portion, not so much _because_ he -_must_ be such, like No. 3, but because it would be far more convenient, -and more suitable to his nature: such would be many men in the lower, -and the whole dear sex in the highest, degree. The undeniably cowardly -disposition of the Jews has the same foundation. We have so long denied -them human and social rights, that the motives of vanity and the sense -of honour can operate but feebly on them, while that of duty in relation -to us can scarcely exist at all. Nothing but centuries of a more -reasonable and humane policy can render this otherwise. - -The unfortunate No. 3 would only be courageous in two predicaments; in -half-frantic religious ecstacy, or in despair, itself the very extremity -of fear, when he might reach a point beyond the limits of courage. We -have seen, for example, people destroy themselves out of dread of death! - -What I have here said, little as it is, appears to me sufficient -to point out a mode of drawing new deductions from every possible -combination; to determine their relative value; and, what is most -important of all, to excite further reflections, from which all may draw -practical benefit. - -You may think, my dear friend, that I could not occupy myself with -subjects, without endeavouring to analyse my own portion of courage; -for who can undertake to study mankind without beginning and ending -with himself? Are you curious to be informed on this point? It is a -ticklish thing; but you know that I have a pleasure in being candid, and -therefore willingly withdraw, at times, the curtains of my most secret -chamber, to afford my good friends a glimpse. Listen, then: the result -will be found in that admired _juste milieu_, which certain well-known -governments have discovered without knowing it, and find that it answers -admirably well, because it may be translated by the German word _mittel -mässigkeit_ (moderation, or mediocrity.) This is just the case with me -also: in the first place, I must own to the feminine temperament No. 2, -although I would rather have belonged to No. 1; however, laws are not to -be prescribed to the Creator; and to say of myself what I think, without -maintaining it as certainly demonstrated, would be too vain on my part: -fortunately, in addition to my mediocre No. 2, I possess _a_, _b_, _c_, -thoroughly, at least in a high, if not in the highest degree. - -I know the nervous agitation which in some is called bashfulness, -and in others fear, as do many who would not perhaps admit it so -candidly; but it does not conquer me, and acts merely as a shower of -rain does on a man wrapped in a waterproof cloak; the water remains -on the surface, and does not penetrate. I have before signified that -physical conditions, that is, stronger or weaker condition of the -nerves, produce great variations, particularly in the dispositions 1 -and 2. The advantageous effect of a good breakfast on the courage has -become proverbial among the French; and all those who are in the least -"nervous" must acknowledge that there is a good deal of truth in it. The -young libertine in Gil Blas was perfectly in the right to answer, when -he was called at five in the morning to fight a duel, "That he would -not rise at such an hour for a rendezvous with a lady, much less to have -his throat cut by a man;" at eleven o'clock, when he had breakfasted, -and was thoroughly awake--not before--he got up, went out, and was run -through the body: a strong illustration of the folly of getting up, too -soon. However, when it must be, the admirable _a_, _b_, _c_, can conquer -even distasteful fasting, as they can everything else, whether they act -together or singly: with the help of this _æs triplex_, my littleness -has fought its way very comfortably through the world, as I hope it will -continue to do, without any great injury accruing, or being likely to -accrue, to my vanity, my sense of honour, or my sense of duty. - -Being, in addition, half poet and half enthusiast, even the courage of -rashness was not unknown to me in my youthful days; notwithstanding -which, it is possible that, without my _a_, _b_, _c_, I might have run -away when it was dangerous to stay. - -Now that I have grown up a civilised man, I observe one peculiar shade. -In danger, I think far less, sometimes not at all, of the danger itself; -but I am _afraid of my fear_; that is, I am afraid that others should -observe I am not quite so much at my ease, as my vanity and my sense -of honour (duty has nothing to do with it) require I should be. At the -very moment of danger, this feeling, as well as every other that can be -called anxiety, ceases of itself; because action makes stronger claims -on the spirit's strength, and the weaker affections fall naturally into -the background. This weakness (for such it certainly is) of extreme -anxiety respecting the opinion of men, is so characteristic of me, that -I feel it continually whenever I am called upon to do anything that -brings me under observation,--for example, whether I make a speech, -act a part, or encounter mortal danger. Herewith must not, however, be -reckoned more or less physical excitement, or when natural impulses such -as I, II, III, come into play. I can, without boasting, affirm, with a -good conscience, that the mortal danger is, in relation to the others, -the lightest of the three; and you will laugh when I tell you, that the -strongest fit of timidity that ever seized upon me was, absurdly enough, -on one occasion when I was to _sing_ in public!--an unlucky passion -that possessed me at one time in my foolish life, and which I renounced -merely out of vexation at this ridiculous bashfulness. If I were writing -about another, I should, out of civility, call such a disposition, -only an exaggerated sense of honour,--at most vanity, well-founded -vanity. But I dare not flatter myself, and therefore I give it its true -name,--the fear of men; for bashfulness is a part of fear, as audacity -is of courage, but of courage, so to say, without soul, consequently -without dignity, as bashfulness is fear without shame. It must not be -overlooked that the greatest courage cannot, at the bottom, dispense -with audacity, and the greatest men in profane history possessed it. It -is, however, one of the greatest gifts for the world; and many deceive -through their whole lives, by the help of audacity alone. It is not -necessary to say that it must, however, be coupled with understanding, -and so applied as we must in public go decently clothed. I am sorry -that I have it not, and can only obtain it by artificial means; but -it appears to me of so much importance, that I am half inclined, dear -Schefer, to favour you with a second dissertation, if it were not a -principal maxim of my book and letter-writing trade not to give too -much of what is valuable. You are quit for the fear this time; and, as -you are but too well acquainted with me, I see you smile, and hear you -distinctly exclaim, "Another fancy-piece to look like truth." My dear -Schefer, a good conjurer shows all the cards, and yet you only see what -he pleases to let you. You and the Secret Society understand me. Like -Wallenstein, I keep my last word _in petto_. This is my last but one. - - - - - THE SONG OF THE COVER. - (NOT A SPORTING ONE.) - -My Dear Mr. Editor.--I have been for some time troubled by a slight -longing to illustrate the title-page (or rather the Cover and its pretty -_pages_) of the Miscellany. Today I was taken suddenly worse with this -desperate symptom of the _cacoethes scribendi_, but at length being -safely delivered of the following doggrel, you will be glad to hear that -I am now "as well as can be expected." - - Ever, my dear Mr. Editor, yours truly, - R. J. - - - THE SONG OF THE COVER. - - "SING a song of half-a-crown-- - Lay it out this minute: - Buy the book, for half the town - Want to know what's in it. - Had you all the cares of Job, - You'd then forget your troubles," - Cried Cupid, seated on the globe, - Busy blowing bubbles. - - Rosy Summer, pretty Spring, - See them scattering flowers-- - "Catch who can!" the song they sing: - Hearts-ease fall in showers. - Autumn, tipsy with the grape, - Plays a pipe and tabor; - Winter imitates the ape, - Mocking at his neighbour. - - Bentley, Boz, and Cruikshank, stand, - Like expectant reelers-- - "Music!"--"Play up!"--pipe in hand, - Beside the _fluted_ pillars! - Boz and Cruikshank want to dance, - None for frolic riper, - But Bentley makes the first advance, - Because he "pays the piper." - - "Then sing a song of half-a-crown, - And make a merry race on't - To buy the book, all London town; - There's wit upon the _face_ on't. - Had you all the cares of Job, - You'd then forget your troubles," - Cried Cupid, seated on the globe, - Busy blowing bubbles. - - - - - THE COBBLER OF DORT. - BY THE AUTHOR OF "MEPHISTOPHELES IN ENGLAND." - - "Oh! the world's nothing more than a cobbler's stall, - Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer! - And mankind are the boots and the shoes on the wall; - Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer! - The great and the rich - Never want a new stitch; - They fit like a glove before and behind, - Are polished and neat, and always well lined, - And thus wear till they come to life's ending: - But the poor and the mean - Are not fit to be seen,-- - They are things that none would borrow or steal, - Are out at the toes, and down at the heel, - And are always beyond any mending. - So the world's nothing more than a cobbler's stall, - Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer! - And mankind are the boots and the shoes on the wall; - Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer! - -"Jacob!--Jacob Kats, I say!" exclaimed a shrill female voice. - -"Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer!" continued the singer. - -"Are you deaf, mynheer?" - -"And mankind are the boots and the shoes on the wall." - -"Do leave off your singing, and open the door; the burgomaster will be -angry that I have stayed so long." - -"Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer!" - -"You are enough to provoke the most patient girl in Dort. Open the door, -Jacob Kats! Open the door this instant, or you shall never have any more -work from me!" - -"Ya?" drawled the cobbler interrogatively, as he slowly opened the door -of his stall. - -"Is this the way you behave to your customers, mynheer?" asked a -smartly-dressed, plump-faced, pretty little woman, in rather a sharp -tone;--"keeping them knocking at the door till you please to open it? -It's not respectful to the burgomaster, Jacob Kats!" - -"Ya!" replied the mender of leather. - -"Here, I want you to do this very neatly," said the girl, producing -a small light shoe, and pointing to a place that evidently wanted -repairing. - -"Ya!" said Jacob Kats, examining with professional curiosity the object -spoken of. - -"The stitches have broken away, you see; so you must fill up the place -they have left, with your best workmanship," she continued. - -"Ya!" he responded. - -"And mind you don't make a botch of it, mynheer!" - -"Ya!" - -"And let me have it in an hour, for the burgomaster has given me leave -to go to a dance." - -"Ya!" - -"And be sure you make a reasonable charge." - -"Ya." - -"I shall be back in an hour," said the little woman, as she opened the -door to let herself out of the stall; "and I shall expect that it will -be ready by that time:" and away she went. "Ya!" replied Jacob for the -last time, as he prepared to set briskly about the job, knowing that his -fair customer was too important a personage to be disappointed. "It is -not every cobbler that can boast of being employed by a burgomaster's -nursery-maid," thought Jacob; and Jacob was right. - -Now every one knows what sort of character a cobbler is; but a Dutch -cobbler is the _beau idéal_ of the tribe, and the cobbler of Dort -deserved to be king of all the cobblers in Holland. He was the finest -specimen of "the profession" it was possible to meet with; a profession, -by-the-by, which his forefathers from time immemorial had followed, for -none of them had ever been, or ever aspired to be, shoemakers. Jacob -could not be said to be tall, unless a height of five feet one is so -considered. His body was what is usually called "punchy;" his head round -like a ball, so that it appeared upon his shoulders like a Dutch cheese -on a firkin of butter; and his face, having been well seamed by the -ravages of the small-pox, closely resembled a battered nutmeg-grater, -with a tremendous gap at the bottom for a mouth, a fiery excrescence -just above it, for a nose, and two dents, higher still, in which were -placed a pair of twinkling eyes. It will easily be understood from this -description, that our hero was by no means handsome; but his father -and his grandfather before him, had been remarkable for the plainness -of their looks, and therefore Jacob had no earthly reason to desire to -put a better face on his business than his predecessors. Much cannot be -said of his dress, which had little in it differing from that of other -cobblers. A red woollen cap ornamented his head,--a part of his person -that certainly required some decoration; long sleeves, of a fabric which -could only be guessed at, in consequence of their colour, cased his -arms; half-a-dozen waistcoats of various materials covered the upper -part of his body; and his nether garments were hid under an immense -thick leather apron,--a sort of heir-loom of the family. - -But Jacob had other _habits_ beside these; he drank much--he smoked -more--and had an equal partiality for songs and pickled herrings. Alone, -which is something like a paradox, he was the most sociable fellow -in existence; he sang to himself, he talked to himself, he drank to -himself, and was evidently on the most friendly terms with himself: -but when any one made an addition to the society, he became the most -reserved of cobblers; monosyllables were all he attempted to utter; nor -had he any great variety of these, as may have been observed in the -preceding dialogue. His stall was his kingdom; he swayed his hammer, -and ruled his lapstone vigorously; and, as other absolute monarchs have -done,--in his subjects he found his _tools_. His place of empire was -worthy of its ruler. It had originally been an outhouse, belonging to -one of those low Gothic-looking dwellings with projecting eaves and -bow windows that may be seen in the unfashionable parts of most Dutch -towns; and its interior, besides a multitude of objects belonging to the -trade, contained a variety of other matters peculiar to himself. Such -spaces on the wells as were not hidden from view by superannuated boots -and shoes, were covered with coloured prints from designs by Ostade, -Teniers, and others, representing boors drinking, playing at cards or -at bowls, and similar subjects. On a heavy three-legged stool, the -throne of the dynasty of the Kats, sat the illustrious Jacob, facing the -window to receive all the advantages the light could give: before him -were the paraphernalia of his vocation: on one side was a curious old -flask, smelling strongly of genuine Schiedam, which invariably formed "a -running accompaniment" to his labours; and on the other was an antique -pipe, short in the stem, and having a bowl on which the head of a satyr -had been carved, but constant use for several generations had made the -material so black, that it might have been taken for the frontispiece of -a more objectionable personage. - -Jacob Kats had been diligently waxing some flax preparatory to -commencing the repairs of the burgomaster's nursery-maid's shoe, -occasionally stopping in his task to moisten his throat with the -contents of the flask, which, either from a prodigal meal of pickled -herrings having made him more thirsty than usual, or the Schiedam -appearing more excellent, had been raised to his mouth so often that -day, that it had tinged his nose to a more luminous crimson, and had -given to his eyes a more restless twinkling, than either had known -for some time; when, having prepared his thread, laid it carefully on -his knee ready for immediate use, and placed the object on which his -skill was to be exercised close at hand, he turned his attention to his -pipe,--it being an invariable rule of his progenitors never to attempt -anything of importance without first seeking the stimulating influence -of the Virginian weed. On examining his stock of tobacco, he discovered -that he had barely enough for one pipe. - -"Donner und blitzen! no more? Bah! I wish to the Teufel my pipe would -never want refilling," exclaimed the cobbler of Dort, filling the bowl -with the remains of the tobacco; and then, having ignited it with the -assistance of flint, steel, and German tinder, puffed away at the tube, -consoling himself with the reflection that, when his labour was done, -he should be able to procure a fresh supply. He smoked and stitched, -and stitched and smoked, and smoked and stitched again, and, while his -fumigations kept pace with his arms, his thoughts were by no means idle; -for, to tell the exact truth, he became conscious of a flow of ideas -more numerous and more ambitious than he had ever previously conceived. -Among other notions which hurried one another through his pericranium, -was one particularly interesting to himself. He thought it was high time -to attempt something to prevent the ancient family of the Kats becoming -extinct, as he was now on the shady side of forty, enjoying in single -blessedness the dignities of Cobbler of Dort, and, if such a state -continued, stood an excellent chance of being the last of his name who -had filled that honourable capacity. He could not help condemning the -taste of the girls of his native town, who had never looked favourably -upon his advantages: even Maria Van Bree, a fair widow who had signified -her affection every day for fifteen years by repeating a joke upon his -nose, only last week had blighted his dearest hopes by marrying an old -fellow with no nose at all. Jacob thought of his solitary condition, and -fancied himself miserable. He became sentimental. His stitches were made -with a melancholy precision, and in the intensity of his affliction he -puffed his miserable pipe; but, as song was the medium through which -he always expressed his emotions, his grief was not tuneless: in tones -that, without any exaggeration, were wretched to a degree, he sung the -following exquisite example of Dutch sentiment: - - "Ach! had ik tranen kon ik schreijen, - De smart knaagt mij het leven af; - Neen wanhoop spaargeen folte ringen, - Stort bij Maria mij in't graf." - -Which is most appropriately rendered thus: - - "Ah! had I tears, so fast they'd spring, - Nought from these eyes the flood could wipe out; - But had I songs, I could not sing,-- - The false Maria's put my pipe out." - -The conclusion of this pathetic verse brought to his mind the -extraordinary circumstance of his pipe (the one he had been smoking) -continuing to be vigorously puffed long after it had usually required -replenishing. He might have exhausted three in the same time. He -also became conscious of a curious burning sensation spreading from -immediately under his red cap to the very extremities of his ten -toes. The smoke he inhaled seemed very hot; and the alarm which his -observations on these matters created was considerably increased by -hearing a roar of small shrill laughter burst from under his very nose! - -"Donner und blitzen!" exclaimed the bewildered cobbler, as he took the -pipe out of his mouth and looked around him to discover from whence the -sounds proceeded. - -"Smoke away, old boy! Smoke away! You won't smoke me out in a hurry, I -can tell ye." - -Jacob directed his eyes to the place from whence came this strange -address, and his astonishment may be imagined at perceiving that _the -words were uttered by his pipe!_ The ill-looking, black satyr, carved on -the bowl, seemed to cock his eye at him in the most impertinent manner, -twisted his mouth into all sorts of diabolical grimaces, and laughed -till the tears ran down his sooty cheeks. Jacob was, as he himself -expressed it, "struck all of a heap." - -"You know you wished to the Teufel your pipe would never require -refilling," said the voice as plainly as it could, while laughing all -the time; "so your desire is now gratified. You may smoke me till the -day of judgement." - -Jacob, in fear and trembling, recalled to mind his impious wish; and -even his regret for having been jilted by the widow Van Bree was -forgotten in the intensity of his alarm. - -"Smoke away, Jacob Kats!--I'm full of capital tobacco," continued the -little wretch, with a chuckle. - -The terrified cobbler was thinking of refusing, yet too much afraid of -the consequences; while his tormentor, distorting his hideous features -into a more abominable grin, shrieked out in his shrill treble, - -"You _must_ smoke me--no use refusing _now_! Here I am, old boy, with a -full bowl that will never burn out--never, never, never! so you'd best -smoke." And then, as if noticing his indecision, he exclaimed, with a -fresh burst of horrid laughter, "Well, if you won't, I'll make you: so, -here goes!" and, before his wretched victim was aware of the -manoeuvre, he jumped stem foremost into his mouth. - -"Now, smoke away, old boy, or worse will follow!" said the little satyr -threateningly. - -Jacob was in such a state of fright that he did not dare to refuse; but -the first mouthful of smoke he inhaled seemed to choke him, as if it was -the burning flames of sulphur, and, gasping for breath, he brushed the -pipe from his mouth. - -"Smoke away, Jacob!--capital tobacco!" screamed the voice in a roar of -more fiendish mirth, as he immediately regained his position. In vain, -with one hand after the other, the miserable cobbler knocked the pipe -from between his teeth: as fast as he struck it away, it returned to -the same place. "Smoke away, old boy!" continued his unrelenting enemy, -as often as his fits of laughter would allow. "Smoke away!--capital -tobacco!" - -Jacob Kats seemed in despair, when, casting his eyes upon his lapstone, -a way of getting rid of the accursed pipe presented itself to his mind. -He threw down the grinning demon on the floor, and with his lapstone -raised above his head was about to crush it at a blow. "Smoke away, -old boy!" fixing itself again firmly between his teeth, before Jacob -had time to put his intention into execution, jeeringly continued the -detested voice; "smoke away!--capital tobacco!" - -With one great effort, such as great minds have recourse to on great -occasions. Jacob let fall the stone, with a vigorous grasp caught hold -of the grinning pipe, and, as he thought, before it could make a guess -as to what he was about to do, dashed it into a thousand pieces upon the -lapstone at his feet. - -"Donner und blitzen!" cried the delighted cobbler; "I have done for you -now!" - -Alas for all sublunary pleasures!--alas for all worldly -convictions!--instead of his enemy being broken into a thousand pieces, -it was multiplied into a thousand pipes,--every one a facsimile of the -original, each possessing the same impertinent cock of the eye, each -disclosing the same satirical twist of the mouth, and all laughing like -a troop of hyenas, and shouting in chorus, "Smoke away! smoke away, old -boy!--capital tobacco!" - -The patience of a Dutchman may be great, but the concentrated patience -of all Holland could not stand unmoved on so trying an occasion as that -which occurred to Jacob Kats. He saw his multitudinous tormentors form -into regular rank and file, and then, as if his mouth had been a breach -which he had "armed to the teeth," they presented their stems like so -many bayonets, and charged in military fashion, screaming, laughing, -and shouting, in a manner sufficiently terrible to scare the senses -out of all the cobblers in Christendom. Slowly the trembling wretch -retreated before the threatening phalanx; but he was surrounded--his -back was against the wall--there was no escape; and with one leap the -enemy were in the citadel. Extraordinary as it may appear, Jacob did -not lose his presence of mind. As they were all jostling, and giggling, -and crying out to be smoked, the unconquered cobbler firmly grasped the -whole mass of his foes in both his hands to make a last attempt at their -destruction, by throwing them into a tub of water, in which he soaked -his leather, that happened to be just within reach; but, in a manner -inexplicable to him, he felt that the more vigorously he grasped them -in a body, the more rapidly they seemed to shrink from his touch, till -nothing was left but the original pipe, which suddenly slipped out of -his hands. - -"Well then, you _won't_ smoke me," coolly remarked the sooty -demon;--"but," added he, in tones that made the marrow in Jacob's bones -turn cold as ice, "I'LL SMOKE YOU!" - -While the last of the family of the Kats was reflecting upon the meaning -of those mysterious words, to his increasing horror he observed the -well-smoked features of the satyr gradually swell into an enormous bulk -of countenance, as the same process of enlargement transformed the stem -into legs, arms, and body, proportionately huge and terrific; but the -monstrous face still wore its original expression, and seemed to the -unhappy Dutchman as if he was looking at the cock of his eye through -a microscope. Without saying a word, the monster, with the finger and -thumb of his right hand, caught up Jacob Kats by the middle, just as -an ordinary man would take up an ordinary pipe, and with his left hand -twisted one of his victim's legs over the other, as if they had been -made of wax, till they came to a tolerable point at the foot; then, -taking from a capacious pocket at his side a moderate-sized piece of -tobacco, with the utmost impudence imaginable, he rubbed it briskly upon -Jacob's unfortunate nose, which, as would any fiery nose under such -circumstances, was burning with indignation; and the weed immediately -igniting, as the poor cobbler lay with his head down gasping for breath, -he thrust the flaming mass into his mouth, extended a pair of jaws -that looked like the lock of the Grand Canal, quietly raised Jacob's -foot between them, and immediately began to smoke with the energy of a -steam-engine! Miserable Jacob Kats!--what agonies he endured! At every -whiff the inhuman smoker took, he could feel the narcotic vapour, hot as -a living coal, drawn rapidly down his throat, through his veins and out -at his toes, to be puffed in huge volumes out of the monster's mouth, -till the place was filled with the smoke. Jacob felt that his teeth were -red-hot,--that his tongue was a cinder,--and big drops of perspiration -coursed each other down his burning cheeks, like the waves of the Zuyder -Zee on the shore when the tide's running up. Jacob looked pitiably at -his tormentor, and thought he discerned a glimpse of relenting in the -atrocious ugliness of his physiognomy. He unclosed his enormous jaws, -and removed from them the foot of his victim. The cobbler of Dort -congratulated himself on the approach of his release. - -"Jacob Kats, my boy!" exclaimed the giant, in that quiet patronising -kind of voice all great men affect, carelessly balancing Jacob on his -finger and thumb at a little distance from his mouth, as he threw out -a long wreath of acrid smoke; "Jacob, you are a capital pipe,--there's -no denying _that_. You smoke admirably,--take my word for it;" and -then, without a word of pity or consolation, he resumed his unnatural -fumigations with more fierceness than ever. Jacob had behaved like a -martyr,--he had shown a spirit worthy of the Kats in their best days; -but the impertinence of such conduct was not to be endured. He would a -minute since have allowed himself to have been dried into a Westphalia -ham, to which state he had been rapidly progressing, but the insult -he had just received had roused the dormant spirit of resistance in -his nature; and, while every feature in his tyrant's smoky face seemed -illuminated with a thousand sardonic grins, having no better weapon -at hand, Jacob hastily snatched the red cap off his head, and, taking -deliberate aim at his persecutor, flung it bang into the very cock of -his eye. The monster opened his jaws to utter a yell of agony, and down -came the head of Jacob Kats upon the floor, that left him without sense -or motion. - -How long the cobbler of Dort remained in this unenviable situation it is -impossible to say, but he was first recalled to consciousness by a loud -knocking at the door of his stall. - -"Jacob! Jacob Kats!" exclaimed the well-known voice of his fair -customer, in a tone of considerable impatience; and Jacob, raising -himself on his elbows, discovered that he had fallen back off his -stool; and the empty flask at his side, and the unfinished work on his -lap, while they gave him a tolerably correct notion of his condition, -did not suggest any remedy for the fatal consequences of disappointing -the burgomaster's nursery-maid. It is only necessary to add, that, -with considerable difficulty, he managed to satisfy his important -patroness; but, to the very day of his death, Jacob, who proved to be -the last of the long dynasty of Kats who enjoyed the dignity inseparable -from the situation of Cobbler of Dort, could not, with any degree of -satisfaction, make up his mind as to whether the strange effects he -had that eventful day experienced had been caused by extraordinary -indulgence in the luxury of pickled herrings,--or too prodigal allowance -of Schiedam,--or intense disappointment for the loss of the widow Van -Bree. - - - - - AN EPIGRAM. - - On Sabbath morn two sisters rise, - And each to chapel goes; - Fair Caroline to close her eyes, - And Jane to eye her clothes (close). - - - ANOTHER. - - All Flora's friends have died, it seems, before her:-- - I wish my wife had been a friend of Flora! - - - - - HERO AND LEANDER. - FROM THE GREEK OF MUSÆUS. - - The lamp that saw the lovers side by side - In furtive clasp; the swimmer bold o' nights; - The close embrace Aurora never spied, - Sing Muse! and Sestos, nest of their delights, - Where Hero watched, and Eros had his rites - Duly performed. My song is of Leander, - And lovingly the beacon-lamp requites, - Which lured him o'er the ocean's back to wander, - Sweet Hero's message-light, love's harbinger and pandar. - - Zeus should have placed that signal-light above, - (Their love-race ended) 'mid the constellations, - And called its name the bridal star of love, - As minister of rapture's keen sensations, - The cresset, by whose aid they found occasions - Of sleepless nights--till blew the fatal blast. - Come, Muse! and join with me in lamentations - For that clear night, by which love's bidding past, - And for Leander's life, extinguished both at last. - - Sestos is opposite Abydos, near - And neighbour cities--parted by the sea: - Love with one arrow scorched a virgin there, - And here a youth; the fairest Hero she, - The handsome bachelor, Leander, he. - Stars of their cities, but resembling each - The other. Sestos keeps her memory - Where Hero's lamp was wont his way to teach, - And for Leander moans Abydos' sullen beach. - - Whence grew Leander's passion? Whence again - Did the same fire sweet Hero's heart devour? - Priestess of Cypris, and of noble strain, - Untaught in Hymen's rites, and of love's power - Unconscious, Hero in a sea-side tower, - An ancient and ancestral pile, was dwelling,-- - Another Cypris, but a virgin flower, - In sensitive white purity excelling, - The slander and the touch of license rude repelling. - - She went not where the light-foot choir assembled, - Shunned ribalds, and the breath that Envy blew, - (The fair hate those are fairer,) and she trembled - At thought of young Love's quiver,--for she knew - His mother favoured every shaft he drew; - Prayers to the mother, and with girlish art - Cates to the son she offered: nathless flew - From the sly urchin's bow the fire-plumed dart - Straight to its destined mark, the maiden's trembling heart. - - What time came round the Sestian festival, - Sacred to Cypris, and her Syrian fere, - All who inhabited the coronal - Of sparkling isles their way to Sestos steer; - Some from Emonia gather far and near; - Others from Cyprus; in Cythera now - No woman stays; in Sestos now appear - The Phrygian, and the dancer on the brow - Of spicy Lebanon, as thereto bound by vow. - - Thither the virgin-hunters thick repair, - As is their wont; a rash and reckless race, - Whose prayers are only offered to the fair. - There moved our Hero with majestic pace; - A star-like glory scattered from her face - Sparkles of light, as when the moon discloses - Among the stars her cheek's clear-shining grace; - Like a twin-rose, one white, one red, reposes - On either snow-white cheek the blushing bloom of roses. - - You'd say her limbs were rose-buds; for a light - Of rose-like hues fell from them; you might see - The rose-blush on her feet and ankles white; - And from her limbs with every movement free - Flowed many graces: they who feigned them three - Said falsely, for in Hero's laughing eyes - A thousand graces budded. Such was she-- - Fit priestess of the beauty of the skies, - For without question hers was mortal beauty's prize. - - Into the young men's minds her beauty entered: - Who wished not loveliest Hero for his wife? - Where'er she paced the temple, still she centred - All eyes, hearts, wishes. "I have seen the strife - For beauty's prize in Lacedemon, rife - With virgins radiant, with love's dazzling splendour; - But never there, nor elsewhere in my life, - Saw I a girl so dignified, yet tender; - She surely is a Grace: Oh, would Queen Cypris lend her-- - - "Or give her me! I've tired, not filled mine eye - With gazing. Let me press her dainty side, - And die! A god's life on Olympus high - Would I refuse, had I that girl for bride: - But, since to me thy priestess is denied, - Queen! let my home with such a one be gladdened." - Thus spake one bachelor; another tried - To smile and mock, as tho' he were not saddened, - Hiding the secret wound, which all the time him maddened. - - But thou, Leander, wouldst not hide the wound, - And vex thy secret soul; but when Desire - Surprised thee looking on the maid renowned, - Tamed by the sudden darts of arrowy fire, - Thou wouldst not live without her; fiercer, higher, - Flamed love's hot torch, and pierced into thy marrow, - Fed by her eye-beams. Loveliness, entire - And blameless, sharper is than any arrow, - Reaching the heart of man thro' channel sure tho' narrow. - - The liquid fire from hers to his eye glides, - Thence passing inward, dives into his breast: - A sudden whirl of thoughts his mind divides; - Amazement at her loveliness confest; - Shame at himself soon caught; fear, love's unrest, - And hope, impatient for love's recompense; - But love to this delirious whirl gave zest, - And furnished him with resolute impudence - To venture, and outface that glorious innocence. - - He turned on her askant his guileful eye, - With speechless nods the damsel's mind assailing: - She gladly saw his love, and silently - Her sweet face ever and anon was veiling, - And then with furtive nods her lover hailing, - Bowed to him in return. He with delight - Observed she saw, nor scorned his love. Then, trailing - His robe of beams, the Day departed quite, - (Leander watched the hour,) and rose the star of night. - - Nor, when he saw the dark-robed mist, he lingered, - But hastened boldly to the maid beloved, - And with a sigh her rosy palm he fingered. - But, drawing back her hand, the virgin moved - In silence from th' intruder; unreproved, - For he had seen her nods, and they were kind, - He pulled her broidered robe, and, as behoved, - He drew her gently to the gloom behind: - She slowly followed him, as if against her mind. - - And then with art and language feminine - She threatened him:--"Why pullest me, lewd ranger? - Pursue thy way, I beg, and leave me mine. - To touch a priestess is a deed of danger; - A virgin's bed is not for any stranger." - She spake as virgins should; and yet she missed - To frighten him, who reckoned soon to change her, - When he her chiding heard; for well he wist - That women chide the most when they would fain be kissed. - - Kissing her polished, fragrant neck, he cries: - "After the fairest Cytherea, fair! - And after the most wise Athena, wise! - For with Jove's daughters thee will I compare, - And not with any dames that mortal are; - Happy thy father! happy she who bore thee! - But hear, and pardon, and accept my prayer; - I come for love; for love I now implore thee; - Perform love's ministry with me, for I adore thee. - - "A virgin priestess to the Cyprian Queen! - No grace in virgins Cytherea trows; - To marriage only point her rites, I ween; - Then if to her thy heart true service vows, - Accept me for thy lover and thy spouse, - Whom Eros hunted as a spoil for thee. - As Hermes of the gold-wand (Fame allows) - Led Hercules to serve Queen Omphale, - So Cytherea now, not Hermes, leadeth me. - - "The tale of Atalantis too is known, - Who fled the couch of Prince Milanion, - To keep her virgin flower; but wrath was shewn - By Cypris, who, for scorn to marriage done, - Him once she loved not, made her dote upon: - Beware lest thou too anger her." Commenting - Thus cunningly, the maiden's ear he won, - And willing mind, to dulcet words consenting, - To love's soft eloquence, that genders love, relenting. - - In silence on the ground she fixed her eyes, - And gently turned aside her glowing cheek, - And shuffled her small feet, and modest-wise - Drew round her graceful neck, and bosom sleek, - Her robe yet closer. These are signs that speak; - A virgin's silence ever means consent; - The bitter-sweet of love was hers, and eke - The glow of heart, hopeful, but not content, - While yet the thoughts are lost in love's first wonderment. - - This for Leander gentle Hero felt; - But, while she downward looked, his greedy eyes - Fed on her neck. With words that dew-like melt, - While blossom on her cheek the moist red dies - Of modesty, she says: "Such power there lies - In thy sweet eloquence, that it might move - The flinty rock; who taught the harmonies - Of such enticing words? What impulse drove - Thee hither? Who thy guide? Oh was it, was it Love? - - "Perchance thou mockest me; but how canst thou, - A stranger and unknown, my love enjoy? - I never can be thine by open vow; - My parents shut me up. Can we employ - Art for our secret, love? Oh, men destroy - Who trust them! ever babbling in the street - Of what they do in secret. Wilt decoy - A trusting heart to ruin? yet, as meet, - Speak truth; thy fatherland and name to me repeat. - - "My name is Hero; my abode is lonely, - A tower that lifts its echoes to the sky, - For so my parents will; one handmaid only - Dwells with me there; no choirs e'er court mine eye, - Nor friends of equal years. The shores close by - Rebellow; night and day the roaring tide - Rings in mine ears, and eke the clanging cry - Of the sea-winds." She spake, and sought to hide, - Shamefaced, her rosy cheek, her words to chide. - - Leander then did with himself advise, - How in love's contest he might best contend; - For wily Love, though wont to tyrannise, - Heals whom he wounds, and ever loves to lend - His subjects wit, their counsellor and friend. - He helped Leander, then, who deeply sighed, - And said: "Dear virgin! for our wished-for end - I dauntless on the rugged surge will ride, - Tho' in it ships be whelmed, and o'er it lightnings glide. - - "Seeking thy bed, I tremble not, nor cower - At ocean's angry roar and frightful front: - A dripping bed-mate, nightly to thy tower - Will I swim o'er the rapid Hellespont; - Abydos is not far from Hero's haunt. - But promise me to shew a lamp, to be - My nightly star; and it shall be my wont, - E'en like a ship, to swim across the sea, - Thy lamp the blessed star that guides my course to thee. - - "And, watching it, I ne'er will turn mine eye on - Setting Boötes, nor th' unwetted Wain, - Nor on the sworded, storm-engirt Orion, - But, guided by the lamp, I soon shall gain - Safe anchorage and sweet. Strict guard maintain - Against the blasts, for fear my safety-light - They rudely quench, and in the howling main - I perish so. Leander am I hight, - And Hero's happy spouse." Thus they their love-vows plight. - - She from her tower to shew a lamp agrees, - And he from the swelling waves at night to cleave: - Then to her tower the anxious maiden flees, - While he must in a pinnace Sestos leave, - And in Abydos wait till he receive - The promised signal, his appointed guide, - When he must swim, not sail. Till they achieve - Love's celebration, rest is them denied. - Haste, Night! and canopy the bridegroom and the bride. - - In veil of darkness Night ran up the sky, - Bringing on sleep, but not for Hero's lover; - He, where the swelling waves roared mightily, - For by the shore, stood waiting to discover - The lamentable lamp that lured him over-- - To death at last. But Hero, seaward turning, - Perceived the gloom, and for her ocean-rover - Kindled the signal; but on his discerning - Its promised flame, he burned with love, as that was burning. - - At first he trembled at the ringing roar - Of the mad surge, but with the soothing spell - Of hopeful words took courage; "What is more - Cruel than love, or more implacable - Than ocean? in moist ruin this doth swell; - That in the heart, a burning furnace, raves. - Fear not, my soul! why shouldst thou fear the hell - Of waters? Aphrodite from the waves - Sprung, and rules over them, sways our love pains and saves." - - He then put off his vest with playful glee, - And twined it round his head; and from the shore - Plunged fearlessly into the surf o' the sea; - And where the signal shone, he hastened o'er, - Ship, sail, and oars himself. But yet before - He reached his port, how oft the Sestian flower - Kept off the breezes with the robe she wore - From the trimmed lamp! It is her nuptial hour-- - Leander comes at last, and now ascends her tower. - - With a mute clasp she welcomed to her home - The panting youth, and to her chamber led, - While from his hair fast dropt the salt sea-foam: - She rubbed his limbs with rose-oil, and then led - Her lover to her virgin couch, and said, - Embracing him the while, and softly willing - "Enough of brine and odours which bred: - No bridegroom but thyself was ever willing - To run such risk, such toil none else but thou fulfilling. - - "No longer lies our joy and us between - That envious sea--now lay thee down to rest." - Silence was there, and Night drew round her screen; - Their nuptial troth was by no minstrel blest; - The bridal pair were in no hymn addrest; - No choir danced round them; and no torches lightened - About the genial bed; no marriage guest - Led the gay dance; nor hymeneal heightened - The joy, approving it; no parent's smile there brightened. - - Silence arranged the couch, and Darkness drew - The curtains; paranymph and bridemaid none - Had they beside. Aurora ne'er did view - Leander lying, when the night was done, - In Hero's arms. He was already gone,-- - Already wishing for the night again. - The wife at night, by day a virgin shone. - As thought her parents wise; while she was fain, - Of night, to welcome him who made their wisdom vain. - - Thus they enjoyed awhile their furtive pleasure, - He to his bed-mate nightly swimming o'er; - But soon their life's bloom fell, and scant their measure - Of bridal hours. When came the winter frore, - And brought the cold blast and the whirlwind's roar, - Sharp gusts the bottom of the deep confounding, - And lashing up the main from shore to shore, - Whirling and rushing, roaring and rebounding, - The watery paths above and shaken depths astounding-- - - What time a desperate pilot, who no more - Amid the waters wild his course could hold, - Had run his ship upon a fork o' the shore; - Not then the tempest checked Leander bold, - For Hero's signal-light her summons told. - Oh! cruel, faithless light of love! to scout him - On such a night! to plunge him in the cold - And hissing waves, that rudely toss and flout him! - Why could not Hero sleep, while winter raged, without him? - - But love and fate compelled her; light of love, - Drawn by desire, she shewed not, but the black - Torch-gloom of fate. The winds collected drove - Volumes of gusty darts upon the track - Of the sea-broken shore; but on the back - Of raving ocean lost Leander went. - The water stood in heaps; with fearful crack - The winds ran counter, and were madly blent, - Rushing from every side, in wildest minglement. - - Wave upon wave! ocean with ether mixt! - Mighty the crash! How could Leander ride on - The monstrous whirl? Sore tost, he one while fixt - In prayer on Cypris, then on King Poseidon, - And e'en the fierce and frantic Boreas cried on, - Who then forgot his Atthis. Lover lorn! - None helped him, none! Love, whom he most relied on, - Averted not his fate; tost, tumbled, torn, - By every counter wave he was at random borne. - - He can no longer ply his hands or feet; - Drench'd with the brine, his strength is failing fast; - On him the cruel waves remorseless beat; - The lamp is now extinguished by the blast, - And with it his young life and love at last: - But while the waves his lifeless body drove, - How many a glance poor Hero seaward cast! - In vain into the gloom her glances rove; - Her anxious thoughts a pool of spectred troubles move. - - The morning came, nor yet Leander came! - Upon the sea's broad back her glance was thrown, - If haply, missing that unfaithful flame, - He wandered there; but soon she spied him strown - A mangled corse below. She tore her gown, - And shrieked, and for Leander madly cried, - And from the tower fell whizzing headlong down. - Thus, on her husband dead sweet Hero died, - And who were joined in life, then death did not divide. - - - - - THE ADMIRABLE CRICHTON. - -"Signor Giacomo caro, non vi accorgete che sete un giovane senza pare? -Nobile, bello, dotto, e robusto, ed alto quasi egualmente, or lingua or -mano ad oprando, a dire e fare ogni bene?" - - -So, in or about the year of Grace 1582, wrote Sperone Speroni the -Paduan, to James Crichton the Scotchman: - -"Dear James, do you not know that you have no equal? Noble, handsome, -learned, and robust,--equally apt to use the tongue or the hand,--to say -or to do what is excellent?" - -There cannot be the smallest doubt that James knew all this himself; -and now, since the appearance of Mr. Ainsworth's romance, all the world -knows it. Wherefore, as the Admirable has suddenly become an object of -admiration, we are moved to say a few words about him. - -A number of learned people, remarkable chiefly for the dullness of -their learning, have on various occasions undertaken to prove the -egregious quackery and pretension of the famous Scot. Such-like people -are, naturally enough, given to such researches; for they cannot endure -in any shape the rebuke of an obvious superiority. "How now, thou -particular fellow?" said Jack Cade to the man who sought to recommend -himself on the score of being able to write and read; and, "How now, -thou particular fellow?" is the exclamation of plodding pedants to -the illustrious Crichton, when, instead of approaching them covered -with the dust of folios, he bounds into their presence beaming with -grace and beauty, the idol of the gay and the young, the observed of -all observers, crowned with the favours of women, and followed by the -applauding shouts of men! - -We are not pedants, and therefore we have faith in Crichton. How -otherwise? In philosophy and learning was he not a Bayle's Dictionary? -In the universality of his literary accomplishments, a perfect Bentley's -Miscellany? Who shall impugn the opinions of the most classic time of -Scotland, or set up his dogmas against the generous acknowledgments of -Italy in her golden day? And was not Crichton so beautiful in body only -because he was in mind so beautiful;--for, where true beauty exists, who -would separate body from mind? Shade of the Admirable, forgive your poor -detractors, for the sake of the true worship your memory has inspired! -It was natural that to the sight of many men, before whom in life you -strode on so far, you should have dwindled in the distance; but now, -after many years, you reappear again, graceful as ever in form, and -wonderful in accomplishments. We hail you as we should some missing star -that once more "swims into our ken!" - -And what sort of fame is that, the reader possibly asks, which may seek -from the hands of some novelist or romancer its privilege of continuance -in the mouths of men? Let that reader first ask himself how many -brilliant actions there are which pass away and are forgotten--while -a thousandth part of the effort that produced them, embodied in a few -words, might have lived for ever. It was the remark of an old writer, -that words harden into substances, while bodies moulder away into air. -Even Cæsar and Alexander weigh little in comparison with Virgil and -Homer. Now Crichton might have been a Cæsar or an Alexander, if he had -had legions at his back; or, without the legions, if his youth had -been allowed to ripen into age. The great principle of his being was a -stirring and irrepressible activity. His learning was as prodigious as -his accomplishments; but how, in the short six or seven years of his -public life, could he have exhibited them to the admiration of Europe, -if he had set to work in the fashion of the schoolmen? With a probable -forecast of his early doom, he bethought himself of a different way. -He made up for the brevity of his life, by its brightness. He kindled -all its fires at once. Resolved to abate no single particle of his -brilliancy among the great men of his time, he rose at once to the -topmost height of his possible achievements, careless whether he should -fall among posterity, dark as a spent rocket, and recognizable by a few -fragments of faded paper only. But what of that? What he designed to -do, he did. He struck the blow he had desired to strike. And which of -the Great Men has done more? How many have done lamentably less! We see -the beauty and the learning of Crichton reflected back from the most -intellectual minds of the greatest day that ever shone upon Scotland or -Italy. What nobler mirror? - -Justly Mr. Ainsworth remarks--"It is from the effect produced upon his -contemporaries, and _such_ contemporaries, that we can form a just -estimate of the extent of Crichton's powers. By them he was esteemed a -miracle of learning--_divinum planè juvenem_: and we have an instance -in our own times of a great poet and philosopher, whose published -works scarcely bear out the high reputation he enjoyed for colloquial -ability. The idolized friend of Aldus Manutius, of Lorenzo Massa, -Giovanni Donati, and Sperone Speroni, amongst the must accomplished -scholars of their age,--the antagonist of the redoubted Arcangelus -Mercenarius and Giacomo Mazzoni, men who had sounded all the depths -of philosophy,--could not have been other than an extraordinary -person." The allusion to Coleridge here is not altogether out of place. -Coleridge, like Crichton, though in a humbler sphere, preferred prompt -payment to the tardy waiting for posterity. With both it was in some -sort necessary that the effort and the applause should go together. To -Coleridge, for instance, so strong had this habit of excessive talking -become, even the certainty of seeing what he wrote in print the next day -was too remote a stimulus for his imagination; and it was a constant -practice of his to lay aside his pen in the middle of an article, if -a friend happened to drop in upon him, and to finish the subject more -effectually aloud, so that the approbation of his hearer and the sound -of his own voice might be co-instantaneous. But what would Coleridge -have done, if, besides having to write an article for the Courier, -in which he was to unravel some transcendentalism about humanity and -universal brotherhood into a slavish support of the Allies--(a difficult -task we admit),--if, besides this, the ball-room, the ladies' chamber, -the hunting-fields, the riding-house, the lists at the Louvre, and some -profoundly learned controversies with the doctors of Navarre or Padua, -had all, nearly at the same instant, awaited him? Poor Coleridge would -have died at twenty, untouched by opium, and unknown, except by the -admiring testimonies of his less accomplished contemporaries. - -Mr. Ainsworth has omitted, by-the-by, a very characteristic, and, -we think, a very decisive opinion of Crichton, by the famous Joseph -Scaliger. "He was a man of very wonderful genius," observes that -laborious and self-satisfied person; "but he had something of the -coxcomb about him. He wanted a little common sense." Here is an -unbiassed opinion. What Joseph means by the coxcombry is obvious enough. -Why, thinks Joseph, should a scholar have cheerfulness of blood? All -the women ran after Crichton,--a most indecorous thing, and a certain -evidence of coxcombry to a person who cannot get a woman to run after -him,--"Nor were the young unmarried ladies," as Sir Thomas Urquhart -remarks in his jewel of a book, "of all the most eminent places of -Italy anything respected of one another, that had not either a lock of -Crichtown's haire, or a copy of verses of his composing." Who doubts his -coxcombry, or that it was other than a very delightful thing in him? - -A want of common sense, in Scaliger's notion, was probably an over -supply of modesty. Nothing is so remarkable in Crichton as the modesty -which in him united with the most perfect confidence. He proved that a -coxcomb and a confident man may possess the truest modesty. There is a -charming anecdote told of him at a great levee of learned men in Padua, -where, having exposed the errors of the school of Aristotle with equal -solidity, modesty, and acuteness, and perceiving that the enthusiasm -of his audience was carrying them too far in admiration of himself, he -suddenly changed his tone, assumed an extreme playfulness of manner, and -declaimed in exquisite phrase upon the _happiness of ignorance_. Nothing -could have been so perfectly devised to self-check any exuberance of -pride. But in all things his modesty was remarkable, when taken in -connexion with his extraordinary powers. Observe it in the circumstance -of his melancholy death, where a romantic sense of what was due to his -prince and master induced him to throw aside his unmatchable skill, and -present himself naked and defenceless to the dagger of an assassin. -This was not weakness in Crichton. Himself the descendant of rulers of -the earth, of princes and bishops,--(shall we ever forget that perfect -model of ecclesiastical fitness, Bishop George Crichton of Dunkeld, "a -man nobly disposed, very hospitable, and a magnificent housekeeper, but -in matters of religion not much skilled"?)--a weak and unmanly feeling -would have given him presumption, not deference,--would have thrown -insult in the face of Gonzaga, and not ill-required chivalry at his feet. - -But what more need we say of Crichton? Have not three volumes of -brilliant writing been just devoted to the delineation of two days of -his matchlessly brilliant life? We may refer the reader, whether he -is curious after the Admirable Crichton, or after his own amusement -solely, to William Harrison Ainsworth's last romance. An expression of -character equally poetic and dramatic, a rich glow of colouring which -diffuses itself through every part of the work, and a generally easy and -effective style, have secured for this book a high and permanent place -in the literature of fiction. - - [Illustration: R B Sheridan] - - - - - MEMOIRS OF SHERIDAN. - -Though it may appear paradoxical to say so, yet there is no more -melancholy reading than the biography of a celebrated wit. In nine -out of ten cases, what is such a memoir other than a record of acute -suffering, the almost inseparable attendant of that thoughtless and -mercurial temperament which cannot, or will not, conform to the staid -usages society; which makes ten enemies where it makes one friend; is -engaged in a constant warfare with common sense, and lives for the day, -letting the morrow shift for itself? Instances there are of prosperous -wits, such as Congreve, Pope, and some others that we could mention, -whose singular tact and provident habits have preserved them from the -usual fate of their fraternity; but these instances are rare: the -majority, though enjoying, it is true, their sunny hours, and realising -for a brief season their most brilliant hopes, have struggled through -life a prey to the bitterest disappointments. - -The life of Sheridan will go far to verify these cursory remarks. No wit -ever enjoyed more intoxicating successes, or suffered more humiliating -reverses. He had frequent opportunities of realising a handsome -independence; but, with that recklessness and inattention to the -business of life peculiar to such natures as his, he flung away all his -chances, and died a beggar, deserted by almost all his old associates, -his celebrity on the wane, and his character under a cloud. Never was -there a more impressive homily than his death-bed inculcates; it speaks -to the heart, like the closing scene of "great Villiers," and is worth -all the sermons that ever were preached from the pulpit. - -Many, however, of poor Sheridan's defects seem to have descended to -him as a sort of heir-loom from his ancestors. His grandfather, Dr. -Sheridan, the friend and butt of Swift, though an amiable, was a -singularly reckless and improvident man; and his father, the well-known -teacher of elocution, is mentioned more then once by Johnson as being -remarkable for nothing so much as his "wrong-headedness." It is but -justice, however, to this individual to state, that by fits and starts -he paid every attention to his son's education that his straitened means -and capricious temper would allow. In the year 1758, when young Sheridan -had just completed his seventh year, he sent him to a private school in -Dublin, whence, at the expiration of fourteen months, he brought him -over with him to England, and placed him at Harrow, under the care of -Dr. Sumner. From this period to the day of his death, the subject of our -memoir never again beheld his native city. - -Sheridan had not been long at Harrow when he attracted the favourable -notice of Dr. Parr, at that time one of the head-masters of the -establishment, who, perceiving in him unquestionable evidences of -superior capacity, did all he could to stimulate him to exertion. But -his endeavours were fruitless, for the boy was incorrigibly idle, though -a general favourite by reason of his good-humour and the social turn -of his mind,--and left Harrow at the age of eighteen, with a slender -amount of Latin and less Greek, but at the same time with a very fair -acquaintance with the lighter branches of English literature. - -In the year 1770, Sheridan accompanied his family to Bath, which was -then what Cheltenham and Brighton now are,--the head-quarters of gaiety -and dissipation. Here he promptly signalised himself, after the usual -Irish fashion, by an elopement and two duels; thus literally fighting -his way to celebrity! The young lady who was the cause of these -sprightly sallies was Miss Linley, daughter of the eminent musician of -that name, and one of the most beautiful women of her day. At the time -when Sheridan first became acquainted with her she was but sixteen, the -favourite vocalist at the Bath concerts, and the standing toast of all -the wits and gallants of the city. It is to the impassioned feelings -which the charms of this lovely girl called forth in his breast that we -owe our hero's first decided plunge into unequivocal poetry. Having on -one occasion--for the families of the young couple were in habits of -strict intimacy--presumed to offer her some sober counsel, she resented -his officiousness, and a quarrel took place between them, which was not -made up till Sheridan sent some stanzas of a most penitential character, -by way of a peace-offering. We subjoin a specimen or two of this poem, -which evinces unquestionable feeling, but is deformed, as was the -fashion of those days, by tawdry and puerile conceits: - - Oh, this is the grotto where Delia reclined, - As late I in secret her confidence sought; - And this is the tree kept her safe from the wind, - As blushing she heard the grave lesson I taught. - - Then tell me, thou grotto of moss-covered stone, - And tell me, thou willow, with leaves dripping dew, - Did Delia seem vexed when Horatio was gone, - And did she confide her resentment to you? - - Methinks now each bough, as you're waving it, tries - To whisper a cause for the sorrow I feel, - To hint how she frowned when I dared to advise, - And sighed when she saw that I did it with zeal. - - True, true, silly leaves, so she did, I allow; - She frowned, but no rage in her looks could I see; - She frowned, for reflection had clouded her brow; - She sighed, but perhaps 'twas in pity to me. - - Then wave thy leaves brisker, thou willow of woe, - I tell thee no rage in her looks I could see; - I cannot, I will not, believe it was so; - She was not, she could not, be angry with me. - - For well did she know that my heart meant no wrong; - It sank at the thought but of giving her pain; - But trusted its task to a faltering tongue, - Which erred from the feelings it could not explain. - -Sentimental poetry, it is well known, has a great effect in softening -the female heart; and Sheridan soon succeeded in sonnetteering Miss -Linley into sympathy. He had, however, a sturdy opponent to contend -against in the person of Captain Mathews, a married man, of specious -address and persevering gallantry. This _roué_ beset the fair vocalist -in every possible way, and, when mildly but firmly repulsed, threw out a -menace of attacking her good fame. Alarmed at this unmanly threat, and -at the consequences of her father's indignation should the captain's -dishonourable proposals become known to him, Miss Linley had recourse to -Sheridan, who instantly advised her to accept of his escort to France, -where he promised that he would place her under the secure protection of -a convent. With some hesitation she complied with his advice, assisted -not a little in her resolution by the repugnance which she had long -entertained to her profession; and the parties set out for Calais, -accompanied by a third person, a female, by way of chaperon. - -On reaching the place of their destination, Sheridan at once threw off -the mask of the friend, and, addressing Miss Linley as the lover, so -worked upon her feelings by artful hints about the injury her character -would sustain, if she did not give him a legal title to protect her, -that she consented to a private marriage, which accordingly took place -in 1772, at a little village near Calais. The parties then made the best -of their way back to England where they returned to their respective -families; old Linley, from whom the marriage was kept a profound secret, -being, of course, not less incensed than surprised by the, to him, -unaccountable conduct of his daughter. - -Meanwhile Captain Mathews, on learning Miss Linley's extraordinary -flight, instantly made good his threat of defaming her character in the -local journals, for which he was twice called out by Sheridan, who in -the second duel received a wound which long confined him to his bed. -His situation at this period must have been one of extreme uneasiness. -He was separated from his wife, and was on ill terms with his father, -who, on his return from London shortly after the catastrophe, refused -to see him, and even went the length of forbidding any of his family to -hold the slightest intercourse with the Linleys. A communication was -nevertheless kept up between the lovers through the agency of Sheridan's -sisters, who had not the heart to resist the imploring appeals of their -brother. - -In the autumn of 1772 the young Benedict was sent by his father--who was -anxious to detach him wholly from the Linleys--to the house of a friend -in Essex, where he remained for some months in strict retirement, and -spent much of his time in study. While here, he paid occasional flying -visits to London, for the purpose of seeing his wife, who was then -professionally engaged at the Covent Garden oratorios; but, finding no -means of procuring an interview with her, so closely was she watched -by her father, he more than once, it is said, disguised himself as a -hackney-coachman, for the sole pleasure of driving her home from the -theatre. - -The time, however, was at hand when his perseverance was to meet with -its reward. Old Linley, finding that neither threat, supplication, nor -remonstrance could change the current of his daughter's affections and -that, by some mysterious process, letters from her husband always found -their way into her hands, at length gave his reluctant consent to their -union, and they were re-married, by licence, in 1773. - -About this time Sheridan entered himself of the Middle Temple, and took -a small cottage at East Burnham, whither he retired immediately after -his marriage, with no other resources than his wife's slender jointure -and his own talents afforded him. Yet, though cramped in his finances, -he had the fortitude to resist all the golden temptations which Mrs. -Sheridan's musical abilities held out to him; and withdrew her for ever -from public life, resolving henceforth to be himself the artificer of -his own fortunes. - -After a short stay at East Burnham, to which in after-years he often -looked back with regret as being the happiest period of his life, -Sheridan took a house in the neighbourhood of Portman-square, which his -father-in-law kindly furnished for him. Here he laboured with great -assiduity; wrote several political tracts, among which was a reply to -"Junius;" and completed his comedy of the "Rivals," which was brought -out at Covent Garden in the year 1775, and proved a failure on its first -representation, though it subsequently won its way into public favour. -The "Rivals" is a lively play, whose interest seldom or never flags; is -easy and graceful in its dialogue; and contains one or two characters -drawn with consummate skill. That of Falkland, in particular,--the -sensitive, wayward lover, the idea of which was, no doubt, suggested -by Sheridan's own personal experience,--is a masterpiece; and not less -effective is the sketch of Sir Anthony Absolute. Mrs. Malaprop--an -evident imitation of Fielding's Mrs. Slip-slop--is a mere whimsical -caricature; while, as respects Lydia Languish, she is one of the insipid -common-places to be picked up at all watering-places, well delineated, -it is true, but scarcely worth the labour of delineation. - -Sheridan's next production was "St. Patrick's Day;" a clever, bustling -farce, but bearing marks of haste and negligence. It was followed, in -the winter of 1775, by the well-known opera of the "Duenna," which at -once obtained a popularity unexampled in the annals of the drama. The -plot of this delightful play is remarkable for the tact with which it -is conducted; the language is elegant, without being too ornate or -elaborate,--a very common defect in Sheridan's dramas;--and the songs -are prettily versified, which is the highest praise we can accord them. - -In the year 1776, on the retirement of Garrick from the stage, Sheridan -became one of the proprietors of Drury Lane Theatre. How, or by whose -assistance, he obtained the large sum--upwards of forty-five thousand -pounds--necessary to make this purchase, is a mystery which none of -his numerous biographers, with all their research and ingenuity, -have ever been able to fathom. We conclude it must have been by that -winning address, and the strenuous exercise of those unrivalled powers -of persuasion, which, at a later period, enabled Sheridan to work a -miracle,--that is, to soften the soul of an attorney! It was in allusion -to these fascinating powers that a rich City banker once observed, -"Whenever Sherry makes me a bow, it always costs me a good dinner; and -when he calls me 'Tom,' it is a full hundred pounds out of my pocket!" - -The year 1777 was rendered memorable by the production of the "School -for Scandal," which is incomparably the finest comedy of which modern -times can boast. Its success was proportionate to its deserts. It -completely took the town by storm. Nevertheless, transcendent as are the -excellencies of this brilliant play, it is not without many and serious -defects. Its dialogue is too studiously artificial; it has little or -no sustained interest of plot; and its characters--with the exception -of Charles Surface, whose airy, Mercutio-like vivacity conciliates us -in spite of ourselves--are such as them from first to last we regard -with indifference. The incessant dazzle of the language, however,--for -the "School for Scandal" is a perfect repertory of wit,--its consummate -polish, and the power of quick, apt repartee, that it exhibits in every -page, altogether blind us to its defects. The only play that can bear a -comparison with it is Congreve's "Love for Love," which shows an equal -opulence of wit, and an equal sacrifice to effect, of the free and easy -play of nature. - -Sheridan had now the ball at his feet. He was the lion of the day, -courted by all classes; the proprietor of the most thriving theatrical -establishment in London; and, could he but have been industrious, and -exercised ordinary forethought, he might have insured, not merely what -Thomson calls "an elegant sufficiency," but a splendid independence for -life. But indolence was his bane,--the fertile source of all his errors -and all his misfortunes,--the rock on which he split,--the quicksand in -which he was finally engulfed. - -In the year following the production of the "School for Scandal," -Sheridan brought out "The Critic,"--an admirable farce, the conception -of which is derived from the Duke of Buckingham's "Rehearsal." The best -character in this drama, and the most natural and spirited ever drawn by -its author, is that of Sir Fretful Plagiary, which is supposed to have -been meant for Cumberland, who witnessed the representation from one of -the side-boxes, and, being of an irritable, tetchy temperament, must of -course have been highly entertained. - -We are now to regard Sheridan in a new character. Hitherto we have -seen him as the triumphant dramatist,--we are now to see him as the -triumphant orator. He had always, from his first entrance into public -life, had a strong predilection for politics; and the acquaintance -with Burke, Fox, Wyndham, and other eminent statesmen, which he made -at Johnson's Literary Club, decided him on trying his chance in the -House of Commons. Accordingly, in 1780, he stood, and was returned, -for Stafford; and made his first speech, as an avowed partisan of -Fox, in the November of that year, on the presentation of a petition -complaining of his undue election. Though he was listened to with marked -attention, yet so general was the impression that he had failed, that -the well-known printer, Woodfall, who happened to be in the gallery at -the time, said to him, as they quitted the house together, "Oratory is -not your forte; you had much better have stuck to the drama;" on which -Sheridan impatiently interrupted him with, "It is in me, however, and, -by G--! it shall come out." - -But, despite this determined confidence in his own powers, he did not -for months afterwards take any active part in the debates; but, when he -did speak, spoke briefly and unassumingly, with a view, no doubt, to -feel his way. By this shrewd conduct he gained insensibly on the good -opinion of the house, and became at length so useful an auxiliary to -his party, that, on their accession to office in the year 1782, he was -appointed one of the Under Secretaries of State; a snug, easy post, but -which he was compelled shortly to resign by the sudden breaking up of -the ministry, occasioned by the death of the Marquis of Rockingham. - -In the following year he was reinstated in office as Secretary of the -Treasury, a coalition having been formed between Lord North and the -Whigs, much against Sheridan's wishes; for he had the sagacity to -foresee that a junction of such discordant interests could have but one -termination; and the result proved that he was right. The Coalition -Ministry was speedily defeated, chiefly by the King's own personal -exertions; and the Under Secretary of the Treasury found himself once -again transported to that Siberia,--the Opposition bench. - -Up to this period, Sheridan, though acknowledged to be a skilful, ready -debater, had not particularly distinguished himself in the House; but -the hour was approaching which was to draw forth all his powers, and -place him on the very highest pinnacle of oratorical fame. In the year -1787, on the question of Warren Hastings' conduct as Governor-general -of India, he was chosen by his party to bring forward in Parliament the -charge relative to the Begum princesses of Oude. His speech on this -occasion produced an effect on all who heard it, to which there is no -parallel in the records of the senate. It startled the House like a -thunderbolt. Men of all parties vied with each other in lavishing on -it the most enthusiastic praises. Burke declared it to be the "most -astonishing effort of eloquence, argument, and wit united, of which -there was any record or tradition." Fox said, "all that he had ever -heard, all that he had ever read, when compared with it, dwindled into -nothing;" and Pitt--even the cold, reserved Pitt--confessed that, in his -opinion, "it surpassed all the eloquence of ancient or modern times, and -possessed everything that genius or art could furnish, to agitate and -control the human mind." So intense, in short, was the sensation created -by this philippic, that the Minister actually moved an adjournment of -the debate, in order, as he observed, that honourable members might have -time to recover from the mental intoxication into which they had been -thrown by the spells of the enchanter! - -Sheridan was now considered of so much consequence by the Whig party, -that when the trial of Warren Hastings was finally determined on, he was -appointed one of the managers to make good the articles of impeachment; -and brought forward in Westminster Hall, before the most august assembly -in the world, the same charge which he had previously urged in the -House of Commons. On this occasion he spoke for four successive days, -exciting, as before, the astonishment and admiration of all his hearers. -Fortunately this celebrated oration, unlike the former one, has been -preserved, and we are therefore enabled to form a tolerable estimate -of it. It contains much brilliant wit, dexterous reasoning, and ready -sarcasm; but is at the same time defaced by the most tawdry, patchwork -imagery. Whenever Sheridan essays the poetic, he is invariably affected -and on stilts. He cannot soar, like Burke, into the empyreum; for he had -capacity, not imagination. His best passages are his most unlaboured -ones; but of these he seems to have thought least. He tricks out -superficial thoughts and obvious common-places in glittering trope and -metaphor; piles hyperbole on hyperbole, conceit on conceit; and mistakes -such showy, elaborate fustian for the true work of the fancy. There is -as much difference between the figurative composition of Sheridan and -that of Burke, as there is between specious tinsel and sterling gold; -yet, throughout the Westminster Hall proceedings, the former appears to -have thrown the latter completely into the shade,--so apt is the world -to be caught by the mere show and glare of oratory! - -The illness of his Majesty, George the Third, and the discussion on the -Regency question which took place in consequence, afforded Sheridan -numerous other opportunities of distinguishing himself in Parliament. He -espoused, of course, the side of the Prince of Wales, whose confidence -he soon gained, and at whose splendid entertainments he was ever the -favoured guest. He was, in fact, the chief adviser of the heir-apparent, -to whom was entrusted the delicate task of drawing up his state papers; -and he would, no doubt, in the event of a change of ministry, have been -raised to one of the most valuable posts that his party could offer, had -not the King's recovery put an end to his golden expectations. - -Shortly after, a dissolution took place, when he hurried off to -Stafford, with the intention of again trying his luck with that -borough. One of his fellow-passengers chanced to be an elector; on -discovering which, Sheridan took the opportunity of asking him for whom -he should vote. The other, ignorant who it was that put the question, -replied that neither of the candidates were much to be depended on, -but that he would vote for the devil sooner than that scamp Sheridan. -The conversation here dropped for a while; but, having in the interim -contrived to learn from the coachman the name of his opponent, Sheridan -resumed the discourse by observing, that he had heard say there were -many corrupt rogues among the Stafford electors, and that among them -was one Thompson, the biggest scoundrel in the borough. "I am Mr. -Thompson," exclaimed his fellow-traveller, crimson with rage. "And I am -Mr. Sheridan," rejoined the other. The joke was immediately seen, and -the parties became sworn friends ever after. Another anecdote, equally -characteristic of Sheridan, is told of him at this period. A few days -after his return to town, having hired a hackney-coach to take him from -Carlton Palace to his own house, he found himself, as usual, without the -means of paying for it. Luckily he espied his friend Richardson in the -street, and, calling to him to get in, he engaged him in a favourite -discussion, which he was well aware would draw forth all his energies; -and then, after adroitly contradicting him, and so rousing his utmost -indignation, he affected to grow angry himself; and, exclaiming that he -would not remain an instant longer in the same coach with a man capable -of holding such language, he insisted on Jehu setting him down, and -walked quietly to his own house, which was now but a few yards off, -leaving his angry friend to pay the fare! - -In the year 1792, Sheridan lost his beautiful and accomplished wife; -a loss which he took greatly to heart. It was indeed an irreparable -one; for she had long been his best "guide and friend;" and her benign -influence removed, he plunged headlong into that reckless extravagance -which ultimately sealed his ruin. Henceforth, for some time, he seldom -or never distinguished himself in Parliament, though the French -Revolution was then setting all England in a ferment; but was chiefly to -be heard of in the circles of fashion, and at the Carlton House revels. -On the occasion, however, of the Nore Mutiny, he took a decided part, -nobly sacrificing all party considerations in his zeal to maintain his -country's honour. - -About four years after the death of his first wife, Sheridan entered -into a second marriage with Miss Ogle, daughter of the Dean of -Winchester. His affairs were now in a sad state of embarrassment, for he -obtained but a slender jointure with his wife; and, to retrieve them, he -once again turned his attention to the stage. In 1799 he brought out the -play of "Pizarro," which had a prodigious run, and is still occasionally -performed. The style and sentiments of this drama are in the worst -possible taste, utterly at variance with nature, and outraging all the -legitimate rules of composition. Strange, however, to say its author was -as proud of it as even of his "School for Scandal." - -On the death of Mr. Pitt, and the accession of the Whigs to power, -Sheridan was appointed Treasurer of the Navy,--a situation which he -held but a short time, the ministry being unexpectedly broken up by -the demise of Mr. Fox. It was while holding this office that he gave -a splendid entertainment to the Prince of Wales, which swallowed up -his whole year's income. Nevertheless he turned even this absurd -extravagance to account; for, having occasion to allude to his -resignation in Parliament, he, with matchless effrontery, thanked God -that he quitted office as poor as when he entered upon it! - -Parliament being dissolved soon after Fox's death, Sheridan, after a -violent struggle, was returned for Westminster, but was unseated on the -next dissolution, which occurred in 1807. Somewhere about this time -his friend the Prince made him a privy-councillor, and appointed him -to the Receivership of the Duchy of Cornwall; but, whatever were the -pecuniary advantages he derived from this sinecure, they were more than -counterbalanced by the destruction of all his theatrical property by -fire. This calamity took place in 1809, when Sheridan was on his legs at -St. Stephen's. He instantly quitted the House, and, after coolly looking -on at the conflagration, retired to a neighbouring tavern, where he was -found by a friend, luxuriating over a bottle of wine. On being asked how -he could think of enjoying himself at such a time, he replied, "A man -may surely be allowed to take a glass by his own fireside!" - -We now approach the last and most melancholy period of poor Sheridan's -life. The sun that we have seen blazing so long and brilliantly, is -now about to set in storm and cloud. Having committed himself with his -party by some mysterious intrigues in which he had engaged, relative to -the formation of a new ministry, Sheridan lost almost all his political -influence; and, on the dissolution of Parliament in 1812, was defeated -in his attempts to be re-elected for Stafford. Ruin now begun to stare -him in the face. The management of the new theatre had been, some time -before, taken out of his hands; his debts were on the increase; his duns -grew daily more clamorous; and he had no longer the House of Commons -to fly to for shelter. To such a wretched state of destitution was he -now reduced, that he was absolutely compelled to pawn his books, his -pictures, and all his most valuable furniture. Nor was this the worst. -In the spring of 1814 he was arrested and carried to a spunging-house, -where he remained in "durance vile" upwards of three days! - -From this moment he never again held up his head, or ventured abroad -into the world. His heart was broken, and he would sit for hours -weeping in the solitude of his chamber. Yet, though hovering on the -very threshold of the grave, his duns allowed him not the slightest -respite; writs and executions were multiplied against him; and the -bailiffs at length forced their way into his house. He was then dying; -yet, even in that state, the agents of the law were about to carry -him out in blankets, when the interference of a friend saved him -from the humiliation of drawing his last breath in a spunging-house. -And where were all his fashionable and titled friends during this -season of distress? Where were the princes, and dukes, and lords, of -whom he had so long been the idol? All had flown; the sight of his -death-bed--and such a death-bed!--would, no doubt, have been too much -for their delicate sensibilities; and, with the exception of Messrs. -Moore, Rogers, and one or two other friends, who remained faithful to -the last, there was not one to close his dying eyes. But when all was -over, then came the pomp and the pageantry, the titled pall-bearers, the -long array of mourners, the public funeral, and the tomb in Westminster -Abbey! Poor Sheridan! He was thought of sufficient consequence to be -laid by the side of the departed worthies of England; yet the very men -who paid this homage to his ashes, scorned to come near him in his -poverty! - -At the period of his death, which took place in 1816, Sheridan had just -completed his sixty-fifth year. His constitution was robust and healthy; -and he might have lived full ten years longer, had not grief and his -own excesses cut short the span of his days. In youth he was considered -handsome; but long confirmed habits of conviviality had obliterated, ere -he had yet entered on the autumn of life, every trace of comeliness. -His manners were remarkably insinuating, especially to women; his wit -ever at command; and his flow of animal spirits unflagging. His worst -failing was his unconquerable indolence. To this may be attributed -all his misfortunes, and those humiliating expedients to which he was -compelled to have recourse in order in ward off the evil day. So deeply -was this vice implanted in his nature, that, even when he had to attend -the funeral of his old friend Richardson, he could not be prevailed on -to set out in time, but arrived after the service was concluded, which, -at his particular request, was performed a second time. - -Lord Byron, who saw much of him in his decline, has stated--as we see -by Moore's admirable life of that poet--that Sheridan's wit was bitter -and morose, rather than sparkling or conciliatory. It should be borne in -mind, however, that he was then worn down by sickness, disappointed in -all his hopes, and deserted by that Prince on whose favour he laid so -much stress, and to preserve which he had made so many sacrifices. The -concurrent testimony of those who knew him in his best days represents -him as having been, like a Wharton or a Villiers, the "life of pleasure -and the soul of whim." That in the course of his meteor-like career he -committed many indefensible acts, and carried the faculty of non-payment -to its highest point of perfection, is true; but, before we finally -condemn him, let us consider what was his education, what his original -position in society, and, above all, what were his temptations. He -was never taught in early life to set a right value on thrifty and -industrious habits. His father was an eccentric being from whose example -he could derive no benefit; and, at an age when the majority of men are -yet in the parental leading-strings, he was cast adrift upon the world, -to sink or swim as might happen. Thus situated, without any legitimate -profession or certain income, he made his own way to celebrity; and if, -while associating with people infinitely his superiors in rank, wealth, -and all worldly advantages, he imbibed their extravagances and aped -their follies, such weakness is surely a fitter subject for our regret -than indignation. At any rate, let us not forget that, if he erred, he -paid the penalty; and that many men a thousand times worse than ever he -was, but with more tact in concealing their faults, have gone down to -the grave honoured and lamented as good citizens and good Christians. - - - - - A SUMMER NIGHT'S REVERIE. - - 'Tis night--and, save the waterfall - That murmurs through the stony vale, - No sound is near the castle wall - On which the moonlight falls so pale! - - There is no wind, but up on high - The clouds are passing hurriedly; - And the bright tops of tree and tow'r - Look chilly cold, although the hour - Is midtime of a summer's night, - When moon is mixt with morning light. - - There is a terror o'er the scene, - As if but lately it had been - A battle-plain,--and dead and dying - Were silent in the shadows lying! - - Is it within the night's lone hour-- - The open vale, or closed bower-- - The murmur of the distant dells, - That such wild melancholy dwells? - Is it the silvery orbs that sleep - So tranquilly in heaven's deep, - That with their silence wake the mind - To such calm sorrow--such refin'd, - And mixture sweet of joy and grief, - That makes young hearts think tears relief? - - Why should the softest season bring - The mind such blissful suffering, - As oft we feel when Nature's rest - Seems most divinely--calmly blest? - - Who ever roam'd on moonlit night, - And thought its beam was gaily bright? - Who ever heard a serenade, - With ev'n a theme of lightest mirth, - But melancholy echoes play'd, - And sighs within the heart had birth? - Who ever trode, in glenwood way, - The trellised shadows of the trees, - But felt come o'er his spirit's play - A mournful cadence like a breeze?-- - A mingled thrill of pain and bliss-- - A dream of hopes and mem'ries lost? - Oh! even happiest lovers' kiss, - By moonlight is with sadness crost! - At such an hour the gayest thing - Is sicklied o'er with pleasing sorrow: - The nightingale would gladly sing, - Were we to list its song by morrow! - - Such is to-night--a soft, calm, summer night-- - Dim in its beauty,--gloomy in its light!-- - Breathing a peacefulness o'er vale and hill, - But in its quiet, something sadden'd still! W. - - - - - SONGS OF THE MONTH. No. V. - May, 1837. - - MAY MORNING. - - Welcome, sweet May! - There is not a day - On the wings of the whole year round, - That sheds in its flight - Such heart-felt delight - As thou dost, with even thy sound! - May! May! - There's music in May, - From the breath of the mead - To the song of the spray! - - Welcome, fair May! - The first dewy ray - That awaken'd the infant earth, - Descended when Thou - (With spring-summer brow) - And Beauty were twins of a birth! - May! May! - There's something in May - That even the lips - Of thy son[88] could not say! - W. - -[88] Mercury, god of eloquence, son of Jupiter and Maia. - - - - - LEARY THE PIPER'S LILT. - - This is the first o' the May, boys! - Listen to me, an' my planxty pipe - Will show ye the fun o' the day, boys! - I know for a spree that ye're always ripe, - And fond o' gingerbread while it is gilt. - "Hurroo! for Leary the Piper's Lilt!" - - First, on the _first_ o' the May, boys! - Do as the birds did Valentine morn; - Find out a lass for the day, boys! - And then together go _gether_ the thorn-- - I warrant she'll never be jade or jilt. - "Hurroo! for Leary the Piper's Lilt!" - - Go where ye _may_ for the May, boys! - Folla yir nose, an' ye'll find it soon: - On every hedge by the way, boys! - Ye'll hear it singin' its scented tune, - Unless by the breath o' your darlin' _kilt_! - "Hurroo! for Leary the Piper's Lilt!" - - But isn't it betther the _May_, boys! - All living to _lave_ on its flow'ry tree, - Than wound it by _braking_ away, boys! - A branch that in blossom not long will be - When the rosy dew that it drank is spilt? - "Hurroo! for Leary the Piper's Lilt!" - - An' when ye're all tir'd o' the May, boys! - Come to the sign o' the Muzzle an' Can: - An' there, at the close o' the day, boys! - Let ev'ry lass, by the side of her man, - Dance till the daisies are spreadin' their quilt. - "Hurroo! for Leary the Piper's Lilt!" - W. - - - - - OLIVER TWIST; - OR, THE PARISH BOY'S PROGRESS. - BY BOZ. - - ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. - - - CHAPTER THE SEVENTH. - - OLIVER CONTINUES THE REFRACTORY. - -Noah Claypole ran along the streets at his swiftest pace, and paused not -once for breath until he reached the workhouse-gate. Having rested here, -for a minute or so, to collect a good burst of sobs and an imposing show -of tears and terror, he knocked loudly at the wicket, and presented such -a rueful face to the aged pauper who opened it, that even he, who saw -nothing but rueful faces about him at the best of times, started back in -astonishment. - -"Why, what's the matter with the boy?" said the old pauper. - -"Mr. Bumble! Mr. Bumble!" cried Noah, with well-affected dismay, and -in tones so loud and agitated that they not only caught the ear of Mr. -Bumble himself who happened to be hard by, but alarmed him so much that -he rushed into the yard without his cocked hat,--which is a very curious -and remarkable circumstance, as showing that even a beadle, acted upon -by a sudden and powerful impulse, may be afflicted with a momentary -visitation of loss of self-possession, and forgetfulness of personal -dignity. - -"Oh, Mr. Bumble, sir!" said Noah; "Oliver, sir,--Oliver has----" - -"What? what?" interposed Mr. Bumble, with a gleam of pleasure in his -metallic eyes. "Not run away: he hasn't run away; has he, Noah?" - -"No, sir, no; not run away, sir, but he's turned wicious," replied Noah. -"He tried to murder me, sir; and then he tried to murder Charlotte, and -then missis. Oh, what dreadful pain it is! such agony, please sir!" -and here Noah writhed and twisted his body into an extensive variety -of eel-like positions; thereby giving Mr. Bumble to understand that, -from the violent and sanguinary onset of Oliver Twist, he had sustained -severe internal injury and damage, from which he was at that speaking -suffering the acutest torture. - -When Noah saw that the intelligence he communicated perfectly paralysed -Mr. Bumble, he imparted additional effect thereunto, by bewailing his -dreadful wounds ten times louder than before: and, when he observed a -gentleman in a white waistcoat crossing the yard, he was more tragic -in his lamentations than ever, rightly conceiving it highly expedient -to attract the notice, and rouse the indignation, of the gentleman -aforesaid. - -[Illustration: Oliver introduced to the respectable Old Gentleman] - -The gentleman's notice was very soon attracted; for he had not walked -three paces when he turned angrily round, and inquired what that -young cur was howling for, and why Mr. Bumble did not favour him with -something which would render the series of vocular exclamations so -designated, an involuntary process. - -"It's a poor boy from the free-school, sir," replied Mr. Bumble, "who -has been nearly murdered--all but murdered, sir--by young Twist." - -"By Jove!" exclaimed the gentleman in the white waistcoat, stopping -short. "I knew it! I felt a strange presentiment from the very first, -that that audacious young savage would come to be hung!" - -"He has likewise attempted, sir, to murder the female servant," said Mr. -Bumble, with a face of ashy paleness. - -"And his missis," interposed Mr. Claypole. - -"And his master, too, I think you said, Noah?" added Mr. Bumble. - -"No, he's out, or he would have murdered him," replied Noah. "He said he -wanted to--" - -"Ah! said he wanted to--did he, my boy?" inquired the gentleman in the -white waistcoat. - -"Yes, sir," replied Noah; "and, please sir, missis wants to know whether -Mr. Bumble can spare time to step up there directly, and flog him, -'cause master's out." - -"Certainly, my boy; certainly," said the gentleman in the white -waistcoat, smiling benignly, and patting Noah's head, which was about -three inches higher than his own. "You're a good boy--a very good boy. -Here's a penny for you. Bumble, just step up to Sowerberry's with your -cane, and see what's best to be done. Don't spare him, Bumble." - -"No, I will not, sir," replied the beadle, adjusting the wax-end which -was twisted round the bottom of his cane for purposes of parochial -flagellation. - -"Tell Sowerberry not to spare him, either. They'll never do anything -with him, without stripes and bruises," said the gentleman in the white -waistcoat. - -"I'll take care, sir," replied the beadle. And, the cocked hat and -cane having been by this time adjusted to their owner's satisfaction, -Mr. Bumble and Noah Claypole betook themselves with all speed to the -undertaker's shop. - -Here the position of affairs had not at all improved, for Sowerberry had -not yet returned, and Oliver continued to kick with undiminished vigour -at the cellar-door. The accounts of his ferocity, as related by Mrs. -Sowerberry and Charlotte, were of so startling a nature that Mr. Bumble -judged it prudent to parley before opening the door: with this view, he -gave a kick at the outside, by way of prelude, and then, applying his -mouth to the keyhole, said, in a deep and impressive tone, - -"Oliver!" - -"Come; you let me out!" replied Oliver, from the inside. - -"Do you know this here voice, Oliver?" said Mr. Bumble. - -"Yes," replied Oliver. - -"Ain't you afraid of it, sir? Ain't you a-trembling while I speak, sir?" -said Mr. Bumble. - -"No!" replied Oliver, boldly. - -An answer so different from the one he had expected to elicit, and was -in the habit of receiving, staggered Mr. Bumble not a little. He stepped -back from the keyhole, drew himself up to his full height, and looked -from one to another of the three bystanders in mute astonishment. - -"Oh, you know, Mr. Bumble, he must be mad," said Mrs. Sowerberry. "No -boy in half his senses could venture to speak so to you." - -"It's not madness, ma'am," replied Mr. Bumble, after a few moments of -deep meditation; "it's meat." - -"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Sowerberry. - -"Meat, ma'am, meat," replied Bumble, with stern emphasis. "You've -overfed him, ma'am. You've raised a artificial soul and spirit in -him, ma'am, unbecoming a person of his condition, as the board, Mrs. -Sowerberry, who are practical philosophers, will tell you. What have -paupers to do with soul or spirit either? It's quite enough that we let -'em have live bodies. If you had kept the boy on gruel, ma'am, this -would never have happened." - -"Dear, dear!" ejaculated Mrs. Sowerberry, piously raising her eyes to -the kitchen ceiling. "This comes of being liberal!" - -The liberality of Mrs. Sowerberry to Oliver had consisted in a profuse -bestowal upon him, of all the dirty odds and ends which nobody else -would eat; so that there was a great deal of meekness and self-devotion -in her voluntarily remaining under Mr. Bumble's heavy accusation, of -which, to do her justice, she was wholly innocent in thought, word, or -deed. - -"Ah!" said Mr. Bumble, when the lady brought her eyes down to earth -again. "The only thing that can be done now, that I know of, is to -leave him in the cellar for a day or so till he's a little starved -down, and then to take him out, and keep him on gruel all through his -apprenticeship. He comes of a bad family--excitable natures, Mrs. -Sowerberry. Both the nurse and doctor said that that mother of his made -her way here, against difficulties and pain that would have killed any -well-disposed woman weeks before." - -At this point of Mr. Bumble's discourse, Oliver just hearing enough -to know that some further allusion was being made to his mother, -recommenced kicking with a violence which rendered every other sound -inaudible. Sowerberry returned at this juncture, and Oliver's offence -having been explained to him, with such exaggerations as the ladies -thought best calculated to rouse his ire, he unlocked the cellar-door in -a twinkling, and dragged his rebellious apprentice out by the collar. - -Oliver's clothes had been torn in the beating he had received; his face -was bruised and scratched, and his hair scattered over his forehead. The -angry flush had not disappeared, however; and when he was pulled out of -his prison, he scowled boldly on Noah, and looked quite undismayed. - -"Now, you are a nice young fellow, ain't you?" said Sowerberry, giving -Oliver a shake, and a sound box on the ear. - -"He called my mother names," replied Oliver, sullenly. - -"Well, and what if he did, you little ungrateful wretch?" said Mrs. -Sowerberry. "She deserved what he said, and worse." - -"She didn't!" said Oliver. - -"She did!" said Mrs. Sowerberry. - -"It's a lie!" said Oliver. - -Mrs. Sowerberry burst into a flood of tears. - -This flood of tears left Sowerberry no alternative. If he had hesitated -for one instant to punish Oliver most severely, it must be quite clear -to every experienced reader that he would have been, according to all -precedents in disputes of matrimony established, a brute, an unnatural -husband, an insulting creature, a base imitation of a man, and various -other agreeable characters too numerous for recital within the limits of -this chapter. To do him justice, he was, as far as his power went,--it -was not very extensive,--kindly disposed towards the boy; perhaps -because it was his interest to be so, perhaps because his wife disliked -him. The flood of tears, however, left him no resource; so he at once -gave him a drubbing, which satisfied even Mrs. Sowerberry herself, and -rendered Mr. Bumble's subsequent application of the parochial cane -rather unnecessary. For the rest of the day he was shut up in the back -kitchen, in company with a pump and a slice of bread; and, at night, -Mrs. Sowerberry, after making various remarks outside the door, by no -means complimentary to the memory of his mother, looked into the room, -and, amidst the jeers and pointings of Noah and Charlotte, ordered him -up stairs to his dismal bed. - -It was not until he was left alone in the silence and stillness of the -gloomy workshop of the undertaker, that Oliver gave way to the feelings -which the day's treatment may be supposed likely to have awakened in -a mere child. He had listened to their taunts with a look of dogged -contempt; he had borne the lash without a cry, for he felt that pride -swelling in his heart which would have kept down a shriek to the last, -if they had roasted him alive. But, now that there were none to see or -hear him, he fell upon his knees on the floor, and, hiding his face in -his hands, wept such tears as God send for the credit of our nature, few -so young may ever have cause to pour out before him. - -For a long time Oliver remained motionless in this attitude. The candle -was burning low in the socket when he rose to his feet, and having gazed -cautiously round him, and listened intently, gently undid the fastenings -of the door and looked abroad. - -It was a cold dark night. The stars seemed to the boy's eyes further -from the earth than he had ever seen them before; there was no wind, and -the sombre shadows thrown by the trees on the earth looked sepulchral -and death-like, from being so still. He softly reclosed the door, and, -having availed himself of the expiring light of the candle to tie up in -a handkerchief the few articles of wearing apparel he had, sat himself -down upon a bench to wait for morning. - -With the first ray of light that struggled through the crevices in -the shutters Oliver rose, and again unbarred the door. One timid look -around,--one moment's pause of hesitation,--he had closed it behind him, -and was in the open street. - -He looked to the right and to the left, uncertain whither to fly. He -remembered to have seen the waggons as they went out, toiling up the -hill; he took the same route, and arriving at a footpath across the -fields, which he thought after some distance led out again into the -road, struck into it, and walked quickly on. - -Along this same footpath, Oliver well remembered he had trotted beside -Mr. Bumble, when he first carried him to the workhouse from the farm. -His way lay directly in front of the cottage. His heart beat quickly -when he bethought himself of this, and he half resolved to turn back. -He had come a long way though, and should lose a great deal of time by -doing so. Besides, it was so early that there was very little fear of -his being seen; so he walked on. - -He reached the house. There was no appearance of its inmates stirring at -that early hour. Oliver stopped, and peeped into the garden. A child was -weeding one of the little beds; and, as he stopped, he raised his pale -face, and disclosed the features of one of his former companions. Oliver -felt glad to see him before he went, for, though younger than himself, -he had been his little friend and playmate; they had been beaten, and -starved, and shut up together, many and many a time. - -"Hush, Dick!" said Oliver, as the boy ran to the gate, and thrust his -thin arm between the rails to greet him. "Is any one up?" - -"Nobody but me," replied the child. - -"You mustn't say you saw me, Dick," said Oliver; "I am running away. -They beat and ill-use me, Dick; and I am going to seek my fortune some -long way off, I don't know where. How pale you are!" - -"I heard the doctor tell them I was dying," replied the child with a -faint smile. "I am very glad to see you, dear; but don't stop, don't -stop." - -"Yes, yes, I will, to say good-b'ye to you," replied Oliver. "I shall -see you again, Dick; I know I shall. You will be well and happy." - -"I hope so," replied the child, "after I am dead, but not before. I know -the doctor must be right. Oliver; because I dream so much of heaven, and -angels, and kind faces that I never see when I am awake. Kiss me," said -the child, climbing up the low gate, and flinging his little arms round -Oliver's neck. "Good-b'ye dear! God bless you!" - -The blessing was from a young child's lips, but it was the first that -Oliver had ever heard invoked upon his head; and through all the -struggles and sufferings of his after life, through all the troubles and -changes of many weary years, he never once forgot it. - - - CHAPTER THE EIGHTH. - - OLIVER WALKS TO LONDON, AND ENCOUNTERS ON THE ROAD - A STRANGE SORT OF YOUNG GENTLEMAN. - -Oliver reached the stile at which the by-path terminated, and once more -gained the high-road. It was eight o'clock now; and, though he was -nearly five miles away from the town, he ran, and hid behind the hedges -by turns, till noon, fearing that he might be pursued and overtaken. -Then he sat down to rest at the side of a mile-stone, and began to think -for the first time where he had better go and try to live. - -The stone by which he was seated bore, in large characters, an -intimation that it was just seventy miles from that spot to London. The -name awakened a new train of ideas in the boy's mind. London!--that -great large place!--nobody--not even Mr. Bumble--could ever find him -there. He had often heard the old men in the workhouse, too, say that no -lad of spirit need want in London, and that there were ways of living in -that vast city which those who had been bred up in country parts had no -idea of. It was the very place for a homeless boy, who must die in the -streets unless some one helped him. As these things passed through his -thoughts, he jumped upon his feet, and again walked forward. - -He had diminished the distance between himself and London by full four -miles more, before he recollected how much he must undergo ere he -could hope to reach his place of destination. As this consideration -forced itself upon him, he slackened his pace a little, and meditated -upon his means of getting there. He had a crust of bread, a coarse -shirt, and two pairs of stockings in his bundle; and a penny--a gift of -Sowerberry's after some funeral in which he had acquitted himself more -than ordinarily well--in his pocket. "A clean shirt," thought Oliver, -"is a very comfortable thing,--very; and so are two pairs of darned -stockings, and so is a penny; but they are small helps to a sixty-five -miles' walk in winter time." But Oliver's thoughts, like those of most -other people, although they were extremely ready and active to point out -his difficulties, were wholly at a loss to suggest any feasible mode of -surmounting them; so, after a good deal of thinking to no particular -purpose, he changed his little bundle over to the other shoulder, and -trudged on. - -Oliver walked twenty miles that day; and all that time tasted nothing -but the crust of dry bread, and a few draughts of water which he begged -at the cottage-doors by the road-side. When the night came, he turned -into a meadow, and, creeping close under a hay-rick, determined to lie -there till morning. He felt frightened at first, for the wind moaned -dismally over the empty fields, and he was cold and hungry, and more -alone than he had ever felt before. Being very tired with his walk, -however, he soon fell asleep and forgot his troubles. - -He felt cold and stiff when he got up next morning, and so hungry that -he was obliged to exchange the penny for a small loaf in the very first -village through which he passed. He had walked no more than twelve -miles, when night closed in again; for his feet were sore, and his legs -so weak that they trembled beneath him. Another night passed in the -bleak damp air only made him worse; and, when he set forward on his -journey next morning, he could hardly crawl along. - -He waited at the bottom of a steep hill till a stage-coach came up, -and then begged of the outside passengers; but there were very few who -took any notice of him, and even those, told him to wait till they got -to the top of the hill, and then let them see how far he could run for -a halfpenny. Poor Oliver tried to keep up with the coach a little way, -but was unable to do it, by reason of his fatigue and sore feet. When -the outsides saw this, they put their halfpence back into their pockets -again, declaring that he was an idle young dog, and didn't deserve -anything; and the coach rattled away, and left only a cloud of dust -behind. - -In some villages, large painted boards were fixed up, warning all -persons who begged within the district that they would be sent to jail, -which frightened Oliver very much, and made him very glad to get out of -them with all possible expedition. In others he would stand about the -inn-yards, and look mournfully at every one who passed; a proceeding -which generally terminated in the landlady's ordering one of the -post-boys who were lounging about, to drive that strange boy out of the -place, for she was sure he had come to steal something. If he begged at -a farmer's house, ten to one but they threatened to set the dog on him; -and when he showed his nose in a shop, they talked about the beadle, -which brought Oliver's heart up into his mouth,--very often the only -thing he had there, for many hours together. - -In fact, if it had not been for a good-hearted turnpike-man, and a -benevolent old lady, Oliver's troubles would have been shortened by the -very same process which put an end to his mother's; in other words, he -would most assuredly have fallen dead upon the king's highway. But the -turnpike-man gave him a meal of bread and cheese; and the old lady, who -had a shipwrecked grandson wandering barefooted in some distant part of -the earth, took pity upon the poor orphan, and gave him what little she -could afford--and more--with such kind and gentle words, and such tears -of sympathy and compassion, that they sank deeper into Oliver's soul -than all the sufferings he had ever undergone. - -Early on the seventh morning after he had left his native place, Oliver -limped slowly into the little town of Barnet. The window-shutters were -closed, the street was empty, not a soul had awakened to the business of -the day. The sun was rising in all his splendid beauty, but the light -only seemed to show the boy his own lonesomeness and desolation as he -sat with bleeding feet and covered with dust upon a cold door-step. - -By degrees the shutters were opened, the window-blinds were drawn up, -and people began passing to and fro. Some few stopped to gaze at Oliver -for a moment or two, or turned round to stare at him as they hurried by; -but none relieved him, or troubled themselves to inquire how he came -there. He had no heart to beg, and there he sat. - -He had been crouching on the step for some time, gazing listlessly at -the coaches as they passed through, and thinking how strange it seemed -that they could do with ease in a few hours what it had taken him a -whole week of courage and determination beyond his years to accomplish, -when he was roused by observing that a boy who had passed him carelessly -some minutes before, had returned, and was now surveying him most -earnestly from the opposite side of the way. He took little heed of this -at first; but the boy remained in the same attitude of close observation -so long, that Oliver raised his head, and returned his steady look. Upon -this, the boy crossed over, and, walking close up to Oliver, said, - -"Hullo! my covey, what's the row?" - -The boy who addressed this inquiry to the young wayfarer was about his -own age, but one of the queerest-looking boys that Oliver had ever -seen. He was a snub-nosed, flat-browed, common-faced boy enough, and -as dirty a juvenile as one would wish to see; but he had got about him -all the airs and manners of a man. He was short of his age, with rather -bow-legs, and little sharp ugly eyes. His hat was stuck on the top of -his head so slightly that it threatened to fall off every moment, and -would have done so very often if the wearer had not had a knack of every -now and then giving his head a sudden twitch, which brought it back to -its old place again. He wore a man's coat, which reached nearly to his -heels. He had turned the cuffs back halfway up his arm to get his hands -out of the sleeves, apparently with the ultimate view of thrusting them -into the pockets of his corduroy trousers, for there he kept them. He -was altogether as roystering and swaggering a young gentleman as ever -stood three feet six, or something less, in his bluchers. - -"Hullo, my covey, what's the row?" said this strange young gentleman to -Oliver. - -"I am very hungry and tired," replied Oliver, the tears standing in his -eyes as he spoke. "I have walked a long way,--I have been walking these -seven days." - -"Walking for sivin days!" said the young gentleman. "Oh, I see. Beak's -order, eh? But," he added, noticing Oliver's look of surprise, "I -suppose you don't know wot a beak is, my flash com-pan-i-on." - -Oliver mildly replied, that he had always heard a bird's mouth described -by the term in question. - -"My eyes, how green!" exclaimed the young gentleman. "Why, a beak's a -madg'st'rate; and when you walk by a beak's order, it's not straight -forerd, but always going up, and nivir coming down agen. Was you never -on the mill?" - -"What mill?" inquired Oliver. - -"What mill!--why, _the_ mill,--the mill as takes up so little room that -it'll work inside a stone jug, and always goes better when the wind's -low with people than when it's high, acos then they can't get workmen. -But come," said the young gentleman; "you want grub, and you shall have -it. I'm at low-water-mark,--only one bob and a magpie; but, _as_ far -_as_ it goes, I'll fork out and stump. Up with you on your pins. There: -now then, morrice." - -Assisting Oliver to rise, the young gentleman took him to an adjacent -chandler's shop, where he purchased a sufficiency of ready-dressed ham -and a half-quartern loaf, or, as he himself expressed it, "a fourpenny -bran;" the ham being kept clean and preserved from dust by the ingenious -expedient of making a hole in the loaf by pulling out a portion of the -crumb, and stuffing it therein. Taking the bread under his arm, the -young gentleman turned into a small public-house, and led the way to a -tap-room in the rear of the premises. Here, a pot of beer was brought in -by the direction of the mysterious youth; and Oliver, falling to, at his -new friend's bidding, made a long and hearty meal, during the progress -of which the strange boy eyed him from time to time with great attention. - -"Going to London?" said the strange boy, when Oliver had at length -concluded. - -"Yes." - -"Got any lodgings?" - -"No." - -"Money?" - -"No." - -The strange boy whistled, and put his arms into his pockets as far as -the big-coat sleeves would let them go. - -"Do you live in London?" inquired Oliver. - -"Yes, I do, when I'm at home," replied the boy. "I suppose you want some -place to sleep in to-night, don't you?" - -"I do indeed," answered Oliver. "I have not slept under a roof since I -left the country." - -"Don't fret your eyelids on that score," said the young gentleman. "I've -got to be in London to-night, and I know a 'spectable old genelman as -lives there, wot'll give you lodgings for nothink, and never ask for the -change; that is, if any genelman he knows interduces you. And don't he -know me?--Oh, no,--not in the least,--by no means,--certainly not." - -The young gentleman smiled, as if to intimate that the latter fragments -of discourse were playfully ironical, and finished the beer as he did so. - -This unexpected offer of shelter was too tempting to be resisted, -especially as it was immediately followed up, by the assurance that the -old gentleman already referred to, would doubtless provide Oliver with a -comfortable place without loss of time. This led to a more friendly and -confidential dialogue, from which Oliver discovered that his friend's -name was Jack Dawkins, and that he was a peculiar pet and _protegé_ of -the elderly gentleman before mentioned. - -Mr. Dawkins's appearance did not say a vast deal in favour of the -comforts which his patron's interest obtained for those whom he took -under his protection; but as he had a somewhat flighty and dissolute -mode of conversing, and furthermore avowed that among his intimate -friends he was better known by the _sobriquet_ of "The artful Dodger," -Oliver concluded that, being of a dissipated and careless turn, the -moral precepts of his benefactor had hitherto been thrown away upon -him. Under this impression, he secretly resolved to cultivate the good -opinion of the old gentleman as quickly as possible; and, if he found -the Dodger incorrigible, as he more than half suspected he should, to -decline the honour of his farther acquaintance. - -As John Dawkins objected to their entering London before nightfall, it -was nearly eleven o'clock when they reached the turnpike at Islington. -They crossed from the Angel into St. John's-road, struck down the -small street which terminates at Sadler's Wells theatre, through -Exmouth-street and Coppice-row, down the little court by the side of -the workhouse, across the classic ground which once bore the name of -Hockley-in-the-hole, thence into Little Saffron-hill, and so into -Saffron-hill the Great, along which the Dodger scudded at a rapid pace, -directing Oliver to follow close at his heels. - -Although Oliver had enough to occupy his attention in keeping sight of -his leader, he could not help bestowing a few hasty glances on either -side of the way as he passed along. A dirtier or more wretched place he -had never seen. The street was very narrow and muddy, and the air was -impregnated with filthy odours. There were a good many small shops; but -the only stock in trade appeared to be heaps of children, who, even at -that time of night, were crawling in and out at the doors, or screaming -from the inside. The sole places that seemed to prosper amid the general -blight of the place were the public-houses, and in them, the lowest -orders of Irish (who are generally the lowest orders of anything) were -wrangling with might and main. Covered ways and yards, which here and -there diverged from the main street, disclosed little knots of houses -where drunken men and women were positively wallowing in the filth; and -from several of the doorways, great ill-looking fellows were cautiously -emerging, bound, to all appearance, upon no very well-disposed or -harmless errands. - -Oliver was just considering whether he hadn't better run away, when they -reached the bottom of the hill: his conductor, catching him by the arm, -pushed open the door of a house near Field-lane, and, drawing him into -the passage, closed it behind them. - -"Now, then," cried a voice from below, in reply to a whistle from the -Dodger. - -"_Plummy and slam!_" was the reply. - -This seemed to be some watchword or signal that it was all right; for -the light of a feeble candle gleamed upon the wall at the farther end of -the passage, and a man's face peeped out from where a balustrade of the -old kitchen staircase had been broken away. - -"There's two on you," said the man, thrusting the candle farther out, -and shading his eyes with his hand. "Who's the t'other one?" - -"A new pal," replied Jack, pulling Oliver forward. - -"Where did he come from?" - -"Greenland. Is Fagin up stairs?" - -"Yes, he's a sortin' the wipes. Up with you!" The candle was drawn back, -and the face disappeared. - -Oliver, groping his way with one hand, and with the other firmly grasped -by his companion, ascended with much difficulty the dark and broken -stairs which his conductor mounted with an ease and expedition that -showed he was well acquainted with them. He threw open the door of a -back-room, and drew Oliver in after him. - -The walls and ceiling of the room were perfectly black with age and -dirt. There was a deal-table before the fire, upon which was a candle -stuck in a ginger-beer bottle; two or three pewter pots, a loaf and -butter, and a plate. In a frying-pan which was on the fire, and which -was secured to the mantelshelf by a string, some sausages were cooking; -and standing over them, with a toasting-fork in his hand, was a very old -shrivelled Jew, whose villanous-looking and repulsive face was obscured -by a quantity of matted red hair. He was dressed in a greasy flannel -gown, with his throat bare, and seemed to be dividing his attention -between the frying-pan and a clothes-horse, over which a great number of -silk handkerchiefs were hanging. Several rough beds made of old sacks -were huddled side by side on the floor; and seated round the table were -four or five boys, none older than the Dodger, smoking long clay pipes -and drinking spirits with all the air of middle-aged men. These all -crowded about their associate as he whispered a few words to the Jew, -and then turned round and grinned at Oliver, as did the Jew himself, -toasting-fork in hand. - -"This is him, Fagin," said Jack Dawkins; "my friend, Oliver Twist." - -The Jew grinned; and, making a low obeisance to Oliver, took him by the -hand, and hoped he should have the honour of his intimate acquaintance. -Upon this, the young gentlemen with the pipes came round him, and shook -both his hands very hard,--especially the one in which he held his -little bundle. One young gentleman was very anxious to hang up his cap -for him; and another was so obliging as to put his hands in his pockets, -in order that, as he was very tired, he might not have the trouble of -emptying them when he went to bed. These civilities would probably have -been extended much further, but for a liberal exercise of the Jew's -toasting-fork on the heads and shoulders of the affectionate youths who -offered them. - -"We are very glad to see you, Oliver,--very," said the Jew. "Dodger, -take off the sausages, and draw a tub near the fire for Oliver. Ah, -you're a-staring at the pocket-handkerchiefs! eh, my dear? There are a -good many of 'em, ain't there? We've just looked 'em out ready for the -wash; that's all, Oliver; that's all. Ha! ha! ha!" - -The latter part of this speech was hailed by a boisterous shout from all -the hopeful pupils of the merry old gentleman, in the midst of which -they went to supper. - -Oliver ate his share; and the Jew then mixed him a glass of hot gin -and water, telling him he must drink it off directly, because another -gentleman wanted the tumbler. Oliver did as he was desired. Almost -instantly afterwards, he felt himself gently lifted on to one of the -sacks, and then he sunk into a deep sleep. - - - - - THE PORTRAIT GALLERY.--No. II. - -Dr. Cleaver, whose portrait we next reviewed, displayed a physiognomy -widely different from that of DR. DULCET. It did not exhibit any of the -milk of human kindness; or, if ever such a benign fluid had circulated -in his veins, it had been curded by the rennet of early disappointment -in every young hope. The features were stern and inflexible,--cast-iron, -moulded by philosophy; a Cynic smile portrayed contempt of the world, or -rather of society, such as it then was, is, and most probably ever will -be. Yet his rubicond cheeks and vinous nose proclaimed that he was fond -of the good things of this perishable globe; and few men, when he had -acquired wealth, enjoyed life and its luxuries with greater zest than -he did. His maxim was founded on what he would call _the whole duty of -man_; which was, _to keep what we get, and to get all we can_. - -Edward Cleaver was born in that class of human beings denominated -_paupers_. He was ushered into life a burthen on the parish in which -he had been found, at the door of a butcher of the name of Cleaver, -(whose patronymic was generously bestowed on him,) in a condition as -natural as his birth. Cleaver was a man of a _serious_ way of thinking; -and, fearing that the adoption of an orphan infant might asperse his -sanctimonious character, and thereby injure his trade, very properly -sent the child to the parish officers. These worthies would willingly -have made him paternise the thing; but he had evidence of its having -been found abandoned in the street. - -Whether a burthen be carried by a body corporate or an individual, it is -nevertheless an obnoxious incumbrance, of which the bearer is anxious to -rid himself as soon as he possibly can; and therefore, maugre the puling -and mawkish cant of some would-be philanthropic scribblers, a parish has -just the same right to grumble at a burthen, and cast it off as feasibly -as may be, as a hod-bearer to relieve himself of his load, a donkey -of his panniers, or a nursery-maid of a squalling and ponderous brat. -Therefore, overseers are perfectly justifiable in having recourse to -all the industrious methods that sound political economy can suggest to -shake off the taxation imposed upon their parishioners by improvidence -and vice. However, all their ingenuity could not prevent the growth of -Ned Cleaver, who attained the age of seven, illustrating the fact, that -vital air can support the functions of life with the aid of but little -sustenance: and the imp was so hale and hearty, that they thought him -"ragged and tough" enough for anything, and sent him to sea. - -To relate his mishaps as a cabin-boy on board a collier would fill a -volume; suffice it to say, the lad was naturally stubborn, and would -not be persuaded that he was created to work without sufficient food, -and get thrashed in lieu of wages; and finding, to use the old joke, -that, although he was _bred_ to the sea, the sea was not _bread_ to him, -he decamped at Plymouth, and joined a company of strolling tumblers, -hurdy-gurdy players, and mountebanks, that were travelling about the -country. - -Ned had now attained is sixteenth year, and had perfected himself; in -forecastle and caboose, in various accomplishments; he could sing a -slang-song, chop his jaws in various modulations, was a very _Moscheles_ -on the salt-box, danced a hornpipe, mimicked all sorts of infirmities, -and could make the most horrible faces, that would so disfigure him -that no one could recognise his natural features, which were uncommonly -handsome; so much so indeed, that he became a great favourite of the -ladies of the company: but, although he _ruled the roost_ with the -fair sex, he was scurvily _basted_ upon every trivial occasion by the -gentlemen performers, and was therefore not much better off on land, -than when at sea he was flogged up aloft to reef, or flogged down to -the salutary exercise of the _holy stone_, which would teach the most -impious chap to pray. Cleaver, therefore, betook himself to his _lower -extremities_ in the neighbourhood of London; and, once more a _filius -populi_, threw himself in the tide of our population in search of work -and food. For several days he strayed about this wealthy metropolis, -and was well-nigh proving the veracity of those sapient legislators, -who maintain that such vagabonds have _no business to live_,--which is -indeed a truism. Happily for our young vagrant, he one night fell in -with a drunken old man who was endeavouring to chalk upon the walls, in -gigantic letters, the name of a celebrated physician. It immediately -occurred to Master Ned that, if he could afford assistance to the -staggering artist, he, in return, might afford him some relief. It was a -providential inspiration. Ned helped his new-made acquaintance to what -he politely termed his _boozing ken_,[89] where he was feasted with a -_blow-out_ of what his patron called _grub and bub_ (_Anglicè_, victuals -and drink); and, after enjoying a delicious night's rest in an Irish -_dry lodging_ upon wet straw, he was admitted as an assistant in the -chalking line, at sixpence per diem. His master, who when sober could -not read, would oftentimes make sad mistakes when he was, in every sense -of the denomination, a "_knight of the brush and moon_,"--which, in the -language of the holy land, meaneth "_in the wind_,"--and our apprentice -soon became an indispensable assistant, since his master could earn six -shillings a day, and get as drunk as a lord, by paying him sixpence out -of his salary. Now, although our youth was not ungrateful, yet he was -ambitious, and he could not see the reason why such a disproportion -in the wages of labour should exist; he one morning took it into his -head to work on his own bottom, and therefore presented himself to his -chief employer, a Dr. Doall, with the abominable intention of basely -undermining his benefactor at half-price. - -[89] A pot-house lodging. - -Doall was much pleased with his appearance and his candour, but still -more with his proposal; and Ned was forthwith taken into his service. -His occupation _merely_ consisted in cleaning the whole house, answering -the door, running errands, helping to cook the dinner, serving at -table, pounding medicines, washing dishes, scouring knives and forks, -and blacking shoes, _mooning_ about the streets at night chalking his -master's name, and during his leisure moments he was advised to study -physic, and wash out phials and gallipots; for which services he was put -upon board wages, at the rate of ninepence per diem. All these duties -he fulfilled most cheerfully, for he had an incentive to his labours. -Next to good living--when he could get it--Cleaver was a warm admirer -of the fair sex, even when hungry; and, when beauty drank to him with -her eyes, he would have pledged her in small-beer as rapturously as in -half-and-half. Doall had a daughter, an only child; she was remarkable -for her beauty, and no less recommendable by her accomplishments. -She was ever engaged in reading novels and plays, could strum upon -the guitar, and all day long, was either singing or spouting: our -apprentice looked upon her as the paragon all loveliness. If he admired -her, he soon perceived that his youth, his innocence, and perhaps his -good figure, had produced a favourable impression upon the maiden. A -conversation with her father confirmed the surmises of vanity, when -he overheard her sweet voice admitting that he was a _monstrous nice_ -young fellow, and impressing upon her father the propriety of giving him -decent clothes, and making him look like a gentleman. - -This conversation had the "desired effect." Ned was sent to suit -himself in Monmouth-street, cooky allowed him to dip his crust in the -dripping-pan on roasting-days; and, although on board wages, Emmelina, -the doctor's lovely daughter, permitted him a fair run of his teeth when -her father was out. As the cook was often junketing with her lover, the -sexton of the parish, she did not grudge him these little advantages. - -One morning, just as he had come home from chalking, the doctor called -him, and bidding him be seated, (a most unexpected honour, which nearly -drove the lad out of his senses,) he informed him that he was highly -satisfied with his conduct, would henceforth allow him four pounds a -year wages, and pay him by the job for other services, which were to -commence by his _doing fits_; so saying, he gave him a treatise on -epilepsy, and bidding him study the symptoms, he left him, slipping -half-a-crown into his hand. - -The enchanted Cleaver was not long in understanding the doctor's -intentions, and sedulously applied himself to acquire the means of -qualifying himself for his novel occupation; although he was rather -staggered when he read the following: "The patient falls down without -any previous notice, his eyes are so distorted that only the whites of -them are to be seen, his fists are clenched, he foams at the mouth, -thrusts out his tongue, and his body and limbs are agitated and -convulsed. After a continuance of this terrific state, the symptoms -gradually abate; but the patient continues looking wildly and vacantly -around him, perfectly unconscious of what has passed." Cleaver -immediately proceeded to make the most awful faces in his looking-glass, -till he actually frightened himself into the belief that a real fit was -coming on. Delighted with his attempt, no sooner had Doall returned, -than Cleaver fell down in the hall, in all the fearful distortions of an -epileptic. - -"Bravo!--bravo!" exclaimed the doctor;--"admirable!--excellent!" - -"Delicious!--wonderful!--he's a very artist. Oh, what a tragedian he -would make!" exclaimed the daughter; "how charmingly he would die! - - 'Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold,-- - Thou hast no speculation in those eyes!'" - -"I'll be d--d if he hasn't, though!" replied Doall; "and if this -chap does not make his way in the world, I'll swallow a peck of my -own _anti-omnibus pills_. Now mutter away, my boy--more foam--more -foam--that's it!--now for a kick--that's your sort!--clench your -fist--capital! capital! Now, my fine fellow, get up, and I'll renovate -you with some of my _cardiac anti-nervous balm_;" and, so saying, he -took out of his closet a small bottle which contained the aforesaid -liquor, which was neither more nor less than a dram for ladies, who -dared not indulge in more vulgar potations, and which I afterwards found -was composed of cherry-bounce, Curaçoa, Cayenne pepper, ginger, and -some other drug of a most stimulating nature, which once recommended a -certain holy man to a certain great personage;--a fact which may be now -noticed, since both parties are in the _Elysian_ Fields. - -It was now settled that the following day at four o'clock, Cleaver was -to fall down in a fit in Albemarle-street, at the door of a fashionable -family-hotel, the doctor driving past at the very time. In a moment -he had collected a crowd around him. One exclaimed, "The fellow's -drunk!"--another bystander maintained it was apoplexy; a second, -epilepsy; and an old woman assured the group that it was catalepsy. -The lad's face was sprinkled with kennel water, hartshorn charitably -applied to his nostrils, and a stick humanely crammed between his teeth -for fear he should bite his tongue. On a sudden, and to his infinite -satisfaction, Doall jumped out of his job-fly, and, after looking at -the patient for a moment, observed that it was an _attack of idiopathic -epilepsy, arising from a determination of the sanguineous system to the -encephalon_. This learned illustration proclaimed the man of science, -and every one made way for him with becoming respect. Our esculapius -then took out a small phial from his pocket, and, pouring two or three -drops into Ned's foaming mouth, he added, "These drops are infallible -in recovering people from all sorts of sympathetic, symptomatic, and -idiopathic attacks;" when Cleaver immediately opened his eyes, looked -around him with a vacant stare, to the great amazement of every one -present, and in a stuttering voice asked where he was. The doctor -generously told him where he lived in a loud and audible manner, gave -him half-a-crown, and was about ascending his pill-box, after bidding -him call upon him in a day or two, when a servant in a splendid livery -stepped forward from the hotel, and informed him that Lady Coverley -wished to see him. He was immediately ushered into the presence of a -superannuated countess, just arrived from the country. - -"My dear sir!" she exclaimed, "I am positively the most fortunate -woman in the world, to have thus accidentally met with such a prodigy. -I witnessed your wonderful cure upon that poor creature, and I must -absolutely get you to see my daughter Virgy. All the physicians in town -have attended her, and I do declare I think they have done her more harm -than good. When Lord Coverley arrives with Lady Virginia, Virgy shall -see you immediately; I declare she must." - -Doall bowed obsequiously, tendered his address, and, slipping -half-a-guinea into the footman's hand, drove off, not without having -heard the servant proclaim to all around, "that he was the cleverest -man in _Lunnun_, and beat out all other doctors by _chalks_;" the -fellow being little aware at the time that his vulgar expression was so -applicable. - -The doctor was fortunate. Lady Virginia, a nervous, romantic fidget, -had been reduced by bleeding, starving, and other expedients, to -_linger long_; and in a short time Doall, having discovered that she -was in love, recommended marriage, with repeated doses of his "_cardiac -anti-nervous balm_;" his prescription effected a perfect cure. - -Cleaver was now in great favour, and every day proved to him that -the doctor's daughter's partiality was assuming a more affectionate -character. One morning he was pounding some combustible drugs in a -mortar, when Emmelina familiarly entered into conversation with him. -After having asked him various questions about his parentage,--when she -heard that he was an orphan, she expressed great sympathy. She then -reverted to her favourite topic, the drama; and asked him if he often -went to the play. - -"Only once, miss," he replied. - -"And what was the performance?" - -"Romeo and Juliet." - -"Delightful piece! How did you like the garden scene, Edward? - - 'See how she leans her cheek upon that hand! - O that I were a glove upon that hand, - That I might touch that cheek!' - -And tell me, Edward," she continued with great emotion, "did you not -weep?" - -"Oh, bitterly!" he sighed; "bitterly!" - -"I'm sure you did. When he takes the deadly draught, and says, - - 'Here's to my love! Oh, true apothecary, - Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.'" - -Unfortunately the enraptured girl suited her action to the words, and -imitating Romeo casting from him the fatal phial, she seized a bottle of -some diabolical ingredient, and threw it into the mortar. A tremendous -detonation followed, blowing up the stuff Cleaver was pounding, singeing -all his hair and burning his face. - -Emmelina's terror at this accident was as great as the pain it had -inflicted; and Cleaver was bellowing, and stamping, and kicking, when -fortunately Doall came in. The poor sufferer expected some immediate -relief from his skill, but was amazed to see him draw back with looks of -admiration, and exclaim, "Beautiful, by Jupiter!--beautiful!--Oh, what a -thought!--what a grand idea!--beautiful!" - -Emmelina entreated him to dress Ned's scalds, which he set about -doing with hesitation, ever and anon stepping back to gaze upon him -with delight; and, having applied some ointment to his face, he thus -proceeded: - -"Edward, my boy, I love you, I admire you; your fits have worked -wonders, and I have now to put your skill to another trial. The accident -that has just blown you up, has admirably suited you for my purpose. I -shall--what do I say?--_we_ shall make a fortune. I must send you on -an important mission: you must know that the very ingredients you were -pulverising were for the preparation of a remedy of my invention, which -infallibly cures carbuncly noses; when I say cures, I mean white-washing -them, that they may break out again as extravagantly as they chuse in -other hands. Now, the eldest son of Lord Doodly has a nose--that I must -have hold of: oh, such a nose! like--like----" - -"A will-o'-the-wisp," exclaimed his daughter. - -"A most appropriate simile," rejoined the doctor. "Well, Edward, see -here; his conk is nothing to the one you shall wear:" and, so saying, he -drew forth from a drawer a most horrible snout of wax, ingeniously fixed -upon leather; and, applying it to the youth's face, he was actually -struck with horror when he beheld himself in the glass. Emmelina -shrieked, and her father roared out in raptures, "Admirable! the scalds -on your face will add to the beauty of your countenance." - -It was arranged that, on the following day Cleaver was to start by the -stage for Southampton, where Lord Doodly and his son resided. He was -there to sport his awful nose in churches, theatres, public walks, until -the whole town should call him "the wretch with the horrible nose!" -According to agreement, after a tender farewell scene with Emmelina, -he proceeded on his journey; but as he was stepping into the coach at -the Golden Cross, a lady with a child upon her lap shrieked out most -vehemently, exclaiming, "Coach! guard! coach! let me out--let me out! I -will not travel if that there gentleman comes in, with his nose." - -"What! ma'am," replied the coachman: "would you have the gemman travel -without his snorter to accommodate you?" - -"Oh! I shall faint; I will faint! Oh! sir, take that nose away!" - -Cleaver began to wink and blink most awfully. - -"Let me out! let me out! Oh Lord! where could a man get such a nose!" - -Cleaver pretended to suffer most cruelly, and clapped his handkerchief -to his face in apparent agony. - -"It's not a nose," exclaimed a gaunt East Indian in a corner, just -awaking from a doze: "it's more like the proboscis of a rhinoceros: -it is a disease which we call in Bengal an elephantiasis; and, egad! -I'll get out of the coach also, for it's the most d--nable infectious -disorder next to leprosy." - -"Oh, Gracious!" shrieked the lady, rushing out; "my darling infant has -caught it; my Tommy, my jewel, will have an elephant's nose!" - -"It's a shame," exclaimed the nabob. "I'll complain to the proprietors. -One might as well travel with the plague, and go to bed to the cholera -morbus. Let me out, coachy! let me out this instant!" - -Coachy now began to apprehend the consequences of a complaint from a -person of much weight in Southampton, and politely begged of Cleaver to -take an outside seat. The travellers on the top of the coach were as -much terrified as the inside ones; and Cleaver was forced to sit on the -box next to the driver, who sported an enormous mangel-wurzel smeller of -his own, and seemed much amused with the terrors of his passengers. - -Cleaver's expedition was most prosperous. He terrified gipsy parties at -Netly, shocked the members of the Yacht Club, interrupted the sketches -of tourists, and kept High-street, above and below bar, in a state of -constant consternation, after having been refused admittance into half -of the hotels. The very parish beadles seemed to have an eye to his -nose. In short, the Strasburg burghers had not been more terrified with -the sneezer of Han Kenbergins's traveller, than were the good people of -Southampton with that of their visitor. Having thus brought his snout -into notoriety, he returned to town on a day when he had discovered -that Lord Doodly's butler was going up. The conversation naturally fell -upon noses, as the butler declared that he never in all his born days -had seen such a pair of nozzles as Cleaver's and his young master's. -Our adventurer then informed him that there was only _one doctor upon -earth_ who could cure such terrific diseases, and him he was going up to -consult. His fellow traveller of course observed, that if he could cure -_his_ scent-box he could cure anything; and Cleaver promised him, over -a tankard of ale, to let him hear from him if he was so fortunate as to -get rid of his distressing disorder. - -Two months after, a loud ringing announced a stranger at the gate of -Doodly Hall. It was Cleaver, with his natural facial handle, asking -for the butler. Overjoyed at a discovery so acceptable to his master, -who, in return for his services, might be disposed to overlook his -spoliations with more indulgence, Cleaver was introduced by him to the -family, who all recollected his former frightful appearance. Lord Impy, -the heir of the title and estate, was forthwith sent to London to be -placed under Doall's care. Again he had the good fortune to relieve him, -and his fame had spread far and near, ere the nasal conflagration broke -out again with redoubled virulence. - -Cleaver's services were soon requited by the hand of Emmelina, and -a partnership in _the board_. He gradually acquired a smattering of -medical knowledge; and, being well aware that affable manners bring on -conversation, and conversation tends to draw out ignorance, he very -wisely assumed a haughty, and at times a brutal manner; making it a rule -never to answer a question, and requesting his patients to hold their -tongues when they presumed to trespass on their ailments. His unmannerly -behaviour was called _frankness_, his silence _erudition_, and his -insolence _independence_. He thus became one of the wealthiest quacks in -London. His romantic Emmelina for some time rendered him most miserable; -but, fortunately for him, she one night set fire to the house while -performing "_The Devil to pay_" in her private theatricals, and was duly -consumed with the premises. With his usual good luck, they had been -insured for three times their value; and the doctor was enabled to move -to a more fashionable part of the West End, with the additional _puff of -a fire, a burnt wife, and a disconsolate husband_! - -The librarian proceeded to relate the adventures of various other -medical men; and we then entered an adjoining room, hung round with -portraits of distinguished characters, amongst whom I was particularly -anxious to learn the history of the once popular patriot, -SIR RUBY RATBOROUGH. - - - - - PETER PLUMBAGO'S CORRESPONDENCE. - - Dear Tom,--I'm aware you will need no apology - For a nice short epistle concerning geology; - The subject perhaps has been worn to a thread,-- - But I can't drive _Philosophy_ out of my head! - Before the great meeting in Bristol, no doubt - It was harder to drive such a thing in than out; - But a one-pound subscription once placing it there, - It takes root in the brain, and sprouts faster than hair: - So that, though I get lectures at night from the wife of me, - I can't pluck Philosophy out for the life of me. - - Well, Tom,--a prime fellow, brimfull of divinity, - Told jokes about chaos and bones to infinity; - And proved that the world (this he firmly believes) - Long before Adam's day had seen thousands of EVES! - Now, Tom, do you know in this earth that so great a - Proportion of hard rocks inclining in strata - Is caked with dead lizards and crocodiles' bone, - That a singular fact's incontestably shown-- - Viz. ALL FLESH (WHICH IS GRASS) MUST IN TIME BECOME STONE! - Either limestone, or crystal, or mineral salt, - (Vide specim.) Lot's wife--crystallized "in a _fault_." - Fancy, Tom, that your skull may come under the chisel, - And turn out a filter for water to drizzle! - Or imagine the rubicund nose of our uncle, - In some fair lady's brooch, blazing forth a carbuncle! - Though learning is grand, and one labours to win it, - There perhaps lurks a something distressing, Tom, in it. - Thus, whate'er our good character while our life lasted, - When turned into rocks, may we not, Tom, be blasted? - However refined were our tastes and behaviour, - When slabs, to be thumped by the vulgarest pavior! - Who knows but that Newton's immortalised pate - May not some day become a dull schoolboy's old slate; - That head, which threw such astonishing light upon - The secrets of nature--a ninny to write upon! - Man's knowledge is ignorance, wisdom is folly; - The more philosophic, the more melancholy. - - But, Tom, I've a theory,--my own, Tom,--my pet, - Though not quite mature to be published as yet, - Next year I expect 'twill be brought to perfection, - And be read at the great Geological Section. - The subject of FROGS having pleased the community, - (A subject on which none may gibe with impunity,) - It struck me the cold-blooded matter they own - Must be midway 'twixt animal substance and stone. - They have heads, so have we!--and no tails, so have rocks!-- - They've no red blood, like pebbles! but two eyes, like cocks! - Then again,--unlike Christians, with warm, "vital spark,"-- - They are cold, so are flints! a strong circumstance--mark! - An argument _some_ use--there is not much in 't, - That stones have no skins--Hah! then what's a _skin flint_? - Every day, Tom, I feel more secure my position, - _Frogs_ are ANIMAL ROCKS _in a state of transition_! - If I prove this,--and savans but act with propriety,-- - I'm sure to preside at the Royal Society! - Then think, Tom, the glory of Bristol! a resident - Elected in London, to sit as the President! - Hark! I hear, Tom, my unphilosophic virago - Of a wife! I must finish-- - Yours, PETER PLUMBAGO. - October 14th, 1836. - - - - - THE BLUE WONDER.[90] - A MARRIAGE ON CREDIT. - -[90] This story has been adapted from the German of Zschokke. - -Doctor Falcon looked one way, and pretty Susan looked another, as it -has been customary for young people to do, from the remotest antiquity. -The doctor was a very pretty fellow, had been to two universities, had -walked the hospitals of Vienna, Milan, and Pavia, and had learned so -much that there was not one of his craft better able than himself to -post his patients to a better world according to the most legitimate -principles of the most modern systems of the medical art. But science -such as this, is not to be acquired for nothing; it had cost our worthy -doctor nearly every penny of his modest patrimony. "Never mind!" thought -he to himself; "when I get home, I'll marry some rich girl or other, who -may take a fancy to become the doctor's lady; and so both our turns will -be served." - -But what are the wisest resolutions against the eloquence of a pretty -face? Susan was as pretty as a lover could wish her; she felt the best -disposition in the world to become a doctor's lady, but then she had no -money. - -"Never mind, my dear Susan!" said the doctor, as he impressed a kiss on -the lips of the weeping maid; "you see, a doctor must marry, else people -have no confidence in him. You will bring me _credit_, credit will bring -me _patients_, the patients money, and, if they should fail, we have -good expectations. Your aunt, Miss Sarah Bugle, is forty odd, not far -from fifty, and rich enough for the seventh part of her fortune to help -us out of all our trouble. We may venture something upon that!" - -Heavens! what will a young girl not venture for her lover! Susan's -mother had nothing to object, nor her father either, for they were both -in heaven; and her guardian was well pleased to see his ward form a -respectable connexion. Her aunt, Sarah, was also well-pleased, though, -in general, she was little friendly to wedding of any kind: but, as long -as Susan remained unmarried, she saw very clearly that she would every -year be obliged to make some pecuniary advances to the worthy guardian; -and Miss Sarah Bugle was rather stingy, or, as she was herself wont to -say, "she had not a penny more than she wanted." - -Well: Susan became Mrs. Falcon, and the doctor looked most industriously -out of his windows to see the customers pour into his house, on the -strength of his increased claims to credit. They came very sparingly; -but in their stead there appeared every year, a little merry face that -had never been seen in the house before, to augment the parental joys -of Doctor Falcon and his lady. Sometimes the doctor would pass his -finger, cogitatingly, behind his left ear; but what could that avail -him? There was no driving the little Falcons out of the nest. They could -not cut their bread into thinner slices, for the children must live; -but the doctress made her soups thinner. However, they all seemed to -thrive,--father, mother, and the four little ones. They sat on wooden -benches and straw chairs as comfortably as they could have done on -quilted cushions; they slept soundly on hard mattresses, and wore no -costly garments, being well contented if they could keep themselves -neatly and respectably clad. And this was an art in which Susan was a -perfect adept; everything in her house looked so pretty and neat, that -you would have sworn the doctor must have been extremely well off. "How -they manage to do it, I can't think!" Aunt Sarah would often exclaim. -"It's a blue wonder to me!" - -Not that it was always sunshine: there were days when the exchequer was -quite exhausted; and sometimes whole weeks would elapse without a single -dollar finding its way into the house. But then it was always some -consolation to know that Aunt Sarah was rich, and sickly, and growing -old; and, the worse matters looked at home, the more hopeful they always -became at the maiden's mansion. - - - EXPECTING HEIRS. - -The doctor and Susan reckoned rather too confidently on the inheritance -of the aunt; for, even supposing that the dear old lady had been so -near to her beatification as her loving friends imagined, still it was -matter of speculation whether her dear niece would or would not be her -heir. The sighing pair of wedded lovers stood indeed most in need of the -inheritance: but it so happened that there was another niece, married to -one Lawyer Tweezer; not to speak of two nephews, the Reverend Primarius -Bugle, and a certain doctor of philosophy of the same name. Their claims -were all as strong as those of Susan and her husband, and all looked -forward with equal longing to the ascension of the blessed virgin. - -Bugle, the philosopher, had perhaps least cause of all. He was rich -enough; and, while enjoying the delicacies of his table, and smacking -his lips after his Burgundy, his philosophy was perfectly edifying to -his guests. We have a proof of his acuteness in a work of his, in five -volumes, now forgotten, but once immortal, entitled "_The Wise Man -surrounded by the Evils of Life_;" in which he proved that there was -no such thing as suffering in the world; that pain of every kind was -the mere creature of imagination; and that all a man had to do, was to -contemplate every object on the agreeable side. - -Accordingly, he always contemplated his aunt on the _agreeable_, namely, -on her _money_ side. He visited her assiduously, often invited her -to dinner, sent her all sorts of tit-bits from his kitchen, and was -accordingly honoured with the appellation of her "own darling nephew." - -He would have succeeded well enough with his philosophy, had not -his cousin, the Reverend Primarius Bugle, by means of his theology, -exercised great influence over the aunt. She was very pious and devout, -contemned the vanities of the world, visited the congregations of the -godly, in which the spiritual bugle at times was heard to utter a loud -strain, and was mightily comforted by the visits of her reverend nephew, -who joined her frequently in her devotions, and gave her pretty clearly -to understand, that, without his assistance, she would find it difficult -to prepare her soul for its future blissful abode. When, sighing and -with weeping eyes, she would come from the edifying discourses of her -godly nephew, she would call him the saviour of her soul, her greatest -of benefactors, and promise to think of him in her last hour. This was -music to the ears of the theologian. "I can scarcely fail to be the -sole legatee," he would think to himself; "or, as our pious aunt is wont -to say, it would be a blue wonder indeed." - -Nor would his calculation have been a bad one, but for his cousin Lawyer -Tweezer; whose legal ability made him a man of great importance to the -aunt. The chaste Sarah did indeed despise the Mammon of unrighteousness, -and sincerely pitied the grovelling children of the world; but on that -very account she did her best to detach them from their Mammon, or at -least their Mammon from them, which is all the same. She lent money -on high interest and good security, and worked so diligently for the -salvation of those who borrowed from her, that they were always sure to -became poorer and poorer under her ministration. "Blessed are the poor!" -she would exclaim when they were paying her interest on interest; "if I -could have my way, I would have the whole town poor, that they might all -inherit the kingdom of heaven. The less people have in this world, the -more they will long for the world to come." - -It would sometimes happen, however, that the pious maid was carried -too far by her virtuous zeal for the future welfare of her neighbours; -so that, what with her securities, and her compound interest, and the -wickedness of her debtors, she would occasionally find herself involved -in disputes and litigation. Without the aid of Lawyer Tweezer, who was -universally looked on as the most cunning pettifogger in the whole town, -she would frequently have seen interest and principal slipping through -her fingers. But, between her piety, and his cunning and obduracy, a -poor debtor was fain to bundle with bag and baggage out of his house, -rather than a single guilder she had lent out, should miss its way back -to her strong-box. - -"I should be a poor, forsaken, lost woman, my dearest nephew," she would -often say to Tweezer, "if you were not there, to take my part. I may -thank you for nearly all I have; but the time may come when I shall be -able to repay you." This was music to the ears of the jurist. He hoped -one day to find himself sole heir, and fancied he should he able to -touch the right note when it came to the drawing out of the will. - - - THE PICTURE OF THE VIRGIN. - -Miss Sarah Bugle, in her fits of devotion, talked much of death, and of -her longings after the heavenly Jerusalem and her spiritual bridegroom; -yet this did not prevent her from thinking, even more frequently still, -of an earthly bridegroom. Since her five-and-fortieth year she indeed -solemnly declared that she never would marry; nevertheless, she had -her fits of maiden weakness, particularly when some stately widower -would banter her, or some gay bachelor look up to her window as he went -by. "I dare say he has some designs," she would then say. "Well, time -will show; it's wrong to swear anything rashly! If it is to be,--well; -the Lord's will be done! I'm in my best years. My namesake in the Old -Testament was eighty when she christened her first child. It would be no -blue wonder if it did turn out so!" - -Thus she would soliloquize, particularly when some single man had been -looking kindly at her; and, as this seemed to her to be frequently the -case, she at last came to suspect every man in the place, of "evil -designs," as she called it, on her chaste person. At length,--for her -imagination had been wanton with her for more than twenty years,--she -came to look upon every single man as her silent adorer, and every -married man as her faithless one. - -It may easily be conceived with what inveteracy she declaimed against -weddings of every kind, and how bitterly she abused the whole godless, -light-minded male sex, (for her quarrel was with the whole sex,) and -with what transcendent venom she inveighed against the coquettish minxes -who had the impudence to think of a man before they were out of their -leading-strings; though these same minxes in leading-strings were all -the while walking about in shoes such as are generally manufactured for -damsels about to bid adieu to their teens. - -Some elderly maidens, pure and pious like herself, assisted her in the -laudable occupation of prying into the domestic occurrences of the town, -and moralising over them while sipping their coffee. In this conclave, -every new gown, every wedding, every christening, was conscientiously -discussed; and no time was lost in dispersing the result of their -amiable confabulations through every corner of the town. A saucy -sign-painter being once called on to paint a picture of the goddess -of Fame, armed her with a bugle instead of a trumpet; and, when some -pre-eminent piece of scandal became current, it was customary to say -"the bugle has been sounded,"--by which it was intended to indicate the -quarter where the report originated. - -If to these amiable qualities we add the extreme godliness of the chaste -Sarah, and her invincible partiality for compound interest, it is not -difficult to understand why, with the exception of the said ancient -maidens and the four expecting nephews, every creature was careful to -remain at a most respectful distance from her. - - - THE CARES OF LIFE. - -She had not the least inclination to die. She was, therefore, by no -means displeased with the competition of the four faculties, for her -inheritance. Nobody gained by it more than herself. It brought her the -dainties of philosophy, the consolations of religion, the protection -of the law, and moderate doctor's bills. Doctor Falcon was as dear to -her as the others, but not a bit more so: only when some transitory -indisposition seemed to hint at the instability of everything human, -the doctor never failed to become, for the time, the dearest of all her -nephews. - -"Quick doctor! Pray come immediately! Miss Sarah is dying!" exclaimed -one morning, the antiquated maid-servant of the aunt, as she popped her -head in at the door. "My lady has been looking most wretchedly for some -days." - -Falcon was sitting, when this news came, upon his unpretending sofa; -and, with his arm round her waist, was endeavouring to console his -weeping Susan. He knew that Miss Sarah was not likely to be very serious -in her intentions of dying: so he promised the maid he would come -immediately, but remained nevertheless with his wife, to console her. - -But he had little success this time in his attempts at consolation. Poor -Susan wept more bitterly than ever; and the poor doctor sat beside her, -unconscious of the cause of her tears. - -"Come, be open-hearted to your husband, my dearest love," he said; "you -torture me,--you kill me,--to see you thus, while you conceal from me -the cause." - -"Well, then listen to me. Oh!" - -"What further, my dear Susan? you said that before." - -"We have four children." - -"Ay, and the finest in the town, if I am not mistaken! They are all so -gentle, so amiable, so----" - -"Oh! they are little angels." - -"You are right; they _are_ angels, all of them. You do not, I hope, -grieve over the presence of the little angelic circle?" - -"No, my dear husband; but what is to become of the future?" - -"Oh, thou unbelieving Susan! Let us rely on Providence." - -"It is difficult for us to bring them up decently. The older they grow, -the more they want." - -"They have been growing older all this while, and they have wanted for -nothing as yet." - -"Ay; but, if----" - -"What then?" - -"Alas!" she sighed, and sobbed more bitterly than before. - -"What then?" exclaimed the doctor, with undissembled anxiety. - -She concealed her face in his bosom, clung to him with both her arms, -and, in a scarcely audible whisper, said: "I am to be a mother for the -fifth time." - -The papa was half inclined to cry himself at this unhoped-for -announcement; however, he concealed his consternation as well as he -could. "Nay, sweetheart, is that all?" he exclaimed. "Come, Susan, we -shall have five little angels instead of four. We cannot fail to be -happy!" - -"But, my dear husband, we are so very, very poor!" - -"The little angels will bring a blessing upon us. He who feeds the young -ravens will also show me where to find a crumb for my little ones. Come, -tranquillise yourself." - -Susan had had her cry out, and so became more tranquil, as a matter of -course; but the doctor had found no such vent for his uneasiness. He -walked up and down the room, looked out of the window; nothing could -divert his thoughts. - -"Every year more children and less bread! Every year bigger boarders and -thinner slices!" sighed he to himself. He would have forgotten the dying -Miss Bugle, had not Susan reminded him that it was time to hasten to her -death-bed. - - - THE BLUE WONDER. - -He took up his hat, but he did not run. The little domestic dialogue -still weighed on his spirits. He thought only of the small number of -his patients, and the exhausted state of his exchequer. He drew his -hat over his brow, and looked straight before him like a rhymester: on -his way he saluted neither right nor left, and had nearly run down the -superintendent-general,--a man looked upon by most people as one of the -brightest shining lights in the church. - -When he arrived at his dearly-beloved aunt's, he did not, indeed, find -her on her death-bed; but she had mounted her spectacles, and was seated -before a large book, from which she had opened at Reflections on Death, -and from which she was devoutly reading sundry Prayers for the Dying. -She looked wretchedly; but it would have been difficult to say when her -face looked anything else. Round her head she had tied one handkerchief; -and another, which passed over her head, was fastened under her chin. - -"What is the matter with you?" asked the learned Doctor Falcon, as he -laid his hat and stick aside. - -"The Lord knows," sighed Miss Bugle in a soft and plaintive tone; "I -have suffered much for several days. I feel as if my hour were come; and -that would be terrible." - -The doctor thoughtfully felt her pulse, and said unconsciously, half to -himself, "It fills, with a vengeance!" All the good man's thoughts were -at home with Susan. - -"I thought as much," sighed the terrified virgin. "Do you think there is -danger, my dear Falcon?" - -"Not at your years," replied the doctor, scarcely knowing what he said. - -"Well, that is some consolation," replied the lady in a more cheerful -tone; "in fact, I am in my best years; my strength unbroken. My -constitution must bring me through. Don't you think so, dear Falcon? -Only, no expensive medicines, if they can be done without. Since bark, -rhubarb, and mixtures have been turned into colonial produce, there's no -enduring them. The Lord be merciful to us! but really, my dear Falcon, I -am not at all well." - -Our worthy aunt now gave the reins to her tongue; spoke, as she was wont -to do, of a thousand different things, none of them in any way connected -with her indisposition. The doctor, meanwhile, hummed a tune, and beat -the devil's tattoo upon the table, without listening to a word of what -the good lady was saying. At length he was beginning to lose patience. - -"What then _is_ the matter with you?" he exclaimed. - -"Oh, my appetite! I have not relished a spoonful of soup these two days. -And then my head aches as if it would burst." - -"Something you have eaten has, perhaps, disagreed with you, aunt; some -philosophical _pâté de foie gras_ may be in fault." - -"Gracious Heaven! no, Falcon, the stomach cannot be in fault. I live -so simply, so frugally. Seriously, I don't think I have for several -weeks eaten anything likely to disagree with me. But sometimes I have a -tooth-ache, sometimes qualmishness, heartburn, vomitings--Good Heavens! -do look at me, Falcon, and don't keep drumming upon the table so; look -how pale I am,--how my eyes are sunk in my head: oh dear! I am certainly -very unwell." - -"Well, what do I care?" said the doctor in a peevish tone: his mind -entirely occupied by the condition of his Susan: "you're in the family -way, that's all." - -"Merciful Heaven!" screamed the chaste virgin, in a voice that might -have been heard three streets off. Merciful Heaven! that would be a blue -wonder indeed!" - -A cold sweat came over the doctor as he heard these animated tones -from the maiden lips of Miss Sarah Bugle. He immediately recollected -that, what with ill-humour, and what with absence of mind, he had -been betrayed into a superlatively foolish speech, and one that no -chaste virgin was ever likely to forgive; particularly a maid who had -triumphantly preserved her painful dignity unimpaired to her fiftieth -year; one who never pardoned in another damsel even a gentle pressure -of the hand; one who was neither more nor less than an immaculate -personification of purity and sanctity; one who was, in short, that -virgin of virgins, Miss Sarah Bugle! - -"I will let the storm vent itself, and seek safety in flight, before -the neighbours come pouring in, to see what's the matter," thought the -terrified doctor, as he opened the door and rushed into the street. - - - ANOTHER BLUE WONDER. - -The other three faculties had by this time, by their jealousy, rapacity, -and endless misrepresentations concerning each other, utterly ruined -themselves in the good opinion of the virgin. Doctor Falcon was the -only one who at all bore up against the sudden storm. He could not, -for the soul of him, help laughing at his own blunder. Susan, however, -on the following day began to reprove her husband's levity, though she -had at first joined in the laugh at his thoughtlessness. He caught her -in his arms, stopped her mouth with his kisses, and said, "You are -right: I ought not to have so rudely assaulted the maiden purity of the -heaven-devoted vestal. But, faith! when I left you yesterday, I scarcely -knew myself which way my head was turned." - -"I would not say another word, my dear, if I were not convinced that you -have offended my aunt for ever. Such affront can never be forgiven by -so pious a maiden lady. It is ill for us, and particularly now. We have -a long winter before us. I heat the stove so sparingly that the windows -scarcely thaw the whole day, and yet our stock of wood is going fast, -as you know yourself. And for our exchequer, look here!" So saying, she -jingled a few small pieces of silver in a large purse close to his ears. - -A slight tap at the door, and Sarah's aged attendant entered with a -sealed note, and an urgent request from his aunt that the doctor would -without fail, immediately after dinner, precisely at one o'clock, favour -her with a visit. - -"I shall be sure to come," said Falcon; he took the note, and dismissed -the maid. - -He weighed the note in his hand, and turned jestingly to his wife. -"Feel, Susan; it is as heavy as lead." He opened it, and, lo! in a Queen -of Hearts sundry delicate incisions had been made, into which had been -slipped ten new full-weighted Dutch ducats. He looked at the envelope; -it was addressed to Dr. Falcon: there could be no mistake. Such -unheard-of liberality on the part of the immaculate Sarah justly excited -the amazement of the wedded pair. - -"Well, this is the bluest of all my aunt's blue wonders!" exclaimed -Falcon. "Come, my pretty one; how long is it since we had such a -treasure as this, in our house? Look! Providence watches over us and our -children. The winter is provided for; so we'll have no more croaking. -What! are you crying still?" - -"Oh!" sobbed Susan, as she threw her arms round his neck; "it's for -joy I am crying now. But," added she in a lower tone, "I was praying -fervently, nearly the whole night, for it was little I could sleep." - -Falcon clasped his wife in his arms. He said not another word for -several minutes, but he wept inwardly; for he was unwilling that she -should see how deeply he was affected. - - - BLUER AND BLUER. - -As the clock struck one, he stood by the bedside of the aunt. With real -emotion, with sincere gratitude, he approached her; and--he had vowed to -Susan he would do it--impressed a fervent kiss on the benevolent hand -that had just diffused so much joy through his little family circle. - -"Best of aunts!" he said, "your present of to-day has made Susan and me -very happy." - -"Dear nephew," said the sick lady, in the gentlest tone of which her -voice was capable, for it was long since her hand had been kissed so -warmly, "I have long, very long, been your debtor." - -"And forgive me my rudeness of yesterday," continued the doctor. - -Aunt Sarah modestly covered her face with her handkerchief. After a -while she said, but without looking at him, "Nephew, I am about to -repose unlimited confidence in you:--my life depends on you. Can you be -secret? Will you?" - -Falcon was ready to promise everything. Still the lady was not -satisfied; she promised him her whole fortune if he would be faithful to -her. He made the most solemn oath. - -"I know," said she, "that you young people are often badly enough off. -Well, I will come and board with you; for my old maid, who has served -me so long and so faithfully,"--here she sobbed bitterly,--"I must turn -her away. But as long as you keep my secret, I will give you a thousand -guilders every year for my board; and, when I die, you shall have all I -leave behind me." - -The doctor fell on his knee by her bedside, and renewed his oath with -increased solemnity. - -"But you must live outside the town; for I will not remain here. I will -make you a free gift of my large house outside the gate, with the garden -and all the grounds belonging to it. You know my house close to the -large inn--the Battle of Aboukir; the house was left me six months ago, -by my mother's brother, the Director of Excise." - -The doctor vowed with extended hand he would move into it the very next -day, in spite of wind, frost, and snow. - -"As long as you keep my secret, nephew, I will pay you my board -half-yearly in advance; and for the little expenses you will be at, in -arranging your house for your own family and for me, you will find four -rouleaux of dollars in the little cupboard yonder behind the door." - -The doctor swore all his vows of secrecy over again. She must imagine -the day of judgment or the millennium at hand, he thought. Nothing less -can possibly account for so sudden and miraculous a conversion. - -But, with all this, Sarah came no nearer than before to the confession -of the great secret. As often as she attempted to begin, the words died -upon her lips, and she covered her face and sobbed. These beginnings, -and breakings off, and lamentations endured for a long time. The doctor -rose, seated himself by the side of the bed, wiped his knees with the -sleeve of his coat, took a pinch of snuff, and said to himself, "We may -pump a well dry in time!; it would be hard if the lachrymal glands of an -afflicted virgin could boast of an inexhaustible store of water." - - - THE BLUEST OF ALL. - -He was in the right: when she could cry no longer, she believed she was -recovering her Christian resolution, and said with a trembling voice, -"Nephew, when you left me yesterday after that dreadful expression----" - -The doctor was about to fall once more on his knees: "Pardon the -expression, my angelic aunt! It was----" - -"No, nephew; perhaps you were right." - -"It was an unpardonable stupidity on my part." - -"No, nephew; I believe you are not wrong." - -"Impossible, my angelic aunt!" - -"Alas! only too true, nephew." - -"Impossible, aunt! And even if--even supposing--no, aunt, you are -certainly----" - -"Nephew, you are right. I ought to have been wiser at my time of life, -you mean. You are right; but now you know all. The misfortune has -happened. I was married,--secretly, very secretly indeed,--but all in an -honourable way, all quite orderly. Now who'll believe me? There he lies -dead in the Tyrol, killed by a bullet;--here are letters and vouchers. -He is dead, and----" - -"Who, aunt?" exclaimed Falcon in utter amazement. - -"Alas! the trumpeter of the French regiment of hussars, that was -quartered here during the summer and autumn,--God be merciful to his -soul! He was no common trumpeter, but trumpeter to the regiment; his -father and grandfather beat the kettledrums for many years with great -applause. But, gracious Heaven! I could not bear to be called a hussar's -wife; and, before he could buy his discharge, the regiment was ordered -to march. Here I am now, a young widow, not a soul knows it, not a soul -would believe it. It will kill me if it become known: it would be a blue -wonder to the town. I care little for the trumpeter; but my good name is -all in all to me." - -The doctor shook his head; he could scarcely recover from his surprise. -The trumpeter had indeed been frequently seen in Miss Bugle's -apartments; but Falcon, who had always laughed at Goethe's idea of a -chemical elective affinity, had never dreamt of such a powerful elective -affinity between a trumpeter and a Bugle. As to the immediate uneasiness -of the disconsolate maid, for such the widow chose to be still called, -he considered it groundless; but she returned such strange replies to -his questions as to her sensations, that he began himself to have some -suspicions. He had no difficulty now in accounting for the munificence -of the anxious lady, who would rather have lost her life than that the -whole town should have known that the brightest mirror of all maiden -virtue had been dimmed and breathed upon. - -He now pledged his word of honour that he would keep her secret, and -conceal her from all the world till she was able to appear again with -safety. Till then it was to be reported that she was ill; and, under -the plea of receiving more careful attendance, she was to live at the -doctor's house, and break off every other intercourse. - -The gift of the country-house near the large hotel of the Battle of -Aboukir was duly and legally executed; the country-house was entered -upon in the middle of winter; the maiden matron became invisible there; -and no one was allowed to wait on her, but Susan, whom she had herself -initiated into her mystery. - - - GOOD RESULTS. - -"Well, to be sure," she would say to Susan in her cheerful hours,--for -it was impossible to be always in despair; and, as her niece anticipated -all her wishes, she had never felt herself half so comfortable as in the -bosom of this happy family,--"Well, to be sure, it is a blue wonder, -indeed, to think that I should come to this! Who would have thought it! -Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. I -believed myself too secure, and now I am chastened for my pride. Oh, -trumpeter! trumpeter!" - -The event, meanwhile, had exercised a very salutary influence on the -maiden lady. Through very fear of betraying herself to the curious -eyes of her former companions and gossips, she weaned herself from all -intercourse with them, and acquired a taste for more refined pleasures -in the circle of Dr. Falcon's family. She continued, indeed, rather too -fond of all the tittle-tattle of the town; but then she thought of her -own weakness, and judged more charitably that of others. She became -so indulgent, so modest, nay, so humble, that the doctor and his wife -were completely amazed. The change of circumstances and society,--the -heroic resolution by which she had divested herself of a part of her -property,--the assurance of the doctor that she was still rich enough -to live at her ease,--all this had effected so singular a change in -her character, that she seemed to live quite in a new world. She even -abandoned all her usurious dealings, which, to be sure, she would have -found it difficult to continue in her present seclusion. - -The three faculties, meanwhile, were vomiting fire and flame. The two -Bugles were apparently reconciled, but only that they might unite more -vigorously in their hostility against the pettifogger, who watched -their every step for a plausible ground of action against them. The -philosopher wrote an excellent book against the human passions; and the -worthy ecclesiastic delivered every Sunday most edifying discourses -on the abomination of ingratitude, calumny, envy, evil-speaking, and -malignity. Both did much good by their arguments, but their own gall -became more and more bitter, every day. - - - THE PIOUS FRAUD. - -The winter passed away, and was succeeded by spring. The warm days -of summer were approaching. Dr. Falcon had very soon obtained the -conviction that his aunt had little cause for her uneasiness. He -had told her so, and had explained to her the real nature of her -indisposition. In vain: the erring vestal would on no account be -undeceived. Susan and her husband were at length obliged to desist from -every attempt to dispel the ridiculous illusion of Aunt Sarah, who -threatened that she should begin to doubt the doctor's friendship. She -seldom left her bed. - -"She makes me uneasy," said Susan to her husband; "at times I almost -fancy her cracked." - -"And she is so, in every sense of the word," said the doctor. "It is -hypochondria,--a fixed idea. My physic is of no avail against the -extravagancies of her imagination. I know of nothing I can do, unless it -be to drive away one fancy by substituting another. Suppose we pass our -child off upon her for her own." - -"But will she believe it?" - -"If she does not, it is of little consequence." - -After a few weeks Susan appeared no longer in Sarah's room--it had been -so arranged by the doctor; and our aunt was informed that Susan had had -a misfortune. - -"Is the child dead?" inquired Sarah. - -"Alas!" replied the doctor. - -"Alas!" rejoined the aunt. - -One day before daybreak, Aunt Sarah was awakened in an unusual manner. -Her face was sprinkled with water, and strong scents were held to her -nose, till it seemed they were going to send her out of the world by the -very means apparently employed to bring her to life again. - -She opened her eyes, and saw the doctor busy with her nose. - -"Righteous Heaven! I am dying!--You are killing me! Nephew, nephew, what -are you doing to my nose?" - -"Hush, aunt!--don't speak a word!" said the doctor with a mysterious -look; "only tell me how you feel yourself." - -"Tolerably well, nephew." - -"You have been insensible for four hours, aunt. I was uneasy for your -life; but it's all right now,--you are saved. A lovely child--" - -"How!" exclaimed Sarah, almost rubbing her nose from her face. - -"A sweet little boy. Do you wish to see the pretty fellow? If you will -keep yourself tranquil, and not stir a limb, why----" - -"But nephew----" - -"I have passed it off upon every one in the house for my wife's child." - -"Oh, nephew! your prudence, your assistance, your counsel! Oh, you are -an angel!" - -Falcon went away. Aunt Sarah trembled all over with terror and joy. She -looked round her:--on the table were burning lights and countless phials -of medicine were strewn around. A woman brought in the baby: it was in -a gentle sleep. Sarah spoke not a word, but looked at it long, wept -bitterly, kissed the little creature again and again; and, when it had -been carried away, she said to the doctor, "It is the living picture of -the trumpeter to the French regiment--God be merciful to him! It is his -living picture--I say, his living picture!" - - - CONSEQUENCES. - -After the prescribed number of weeks had been punctually expended in the -consumption of gruels and broths, the chaste Sarah perfectly recovered -her spirits, and tripped about the house more cheerful and active than -she had been for many years before. She dandled the baby, would scarcely -allow it out of her sight, and evidently doted on it with unbounded -tenderness. She had been successfully cured of one ridiculous illusion, -by one yet more ridiculous. Overflowing with gratitude, her first visit -out of the house was to the church, and thence she proceeded to a -lawyer to execute a deed of gift of her whole fortune to Dr. Falcon; -renewing for herself only a large annuity by way of pocket-money. -Between herself and the doctor, to be sure, a secret article was drawn -up, by which he bound himself in due time to transfer half of her bounty -to the little living picture of the regimental trumpeter. - -In this way, the blue wonders of Miss Sarah Bugle suddenly converted -our Dr. Falcon into a rich man. The triumph of the medical faculty -was irrevocably confirmed; the more furiously did law, theology, and -philosophy rage against each other. They could not forgive one another -the loss of the expected legacy. Dr. Falcon was readily excused, for -he was innocent. With him, all parties were ready to renew a friendly -intercourse, for he was now one of the wealthiest men in the town; -and a wealthy man, or rather his money, may at times be useful to the -philosopher as well as to the jurist: and to the theologian as much as -to either. - - - - - THE YOUTH'S NEW VADE-MECUM. - - TO THE EDITOR OF BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. - -Sir,--In submitting for your inspection, the poem which I now do myself -the honour of forwarding to you, permit me to intimate to you the origin -of its composition, and to indulge in one or two remarks. - -The author is a particular friend of my own; a gentleman who, marrying -at a rather advanced stage in the journey of life, was unexpectedly -and agreeably presented with a small earnest of posterity in the -shape of a son. Parental feelings, like many other good things, are -better late than never; and it has often struck me that such feelings -are much stronger, considerably more fervent, and, indeed, a great -deal better when they do come late. Methinks the love of grandfather, -grandmother, uncle, great-aunt, and a whole _kit_ of cousins, is blended -in the sexagenarian sire. It will be perceived, from the affecting -apostrophe or invocation, that my friend commenced his poem with -praiseworthy promptitude; and I do hope that its success will be more -than commensurate with his expectations. The youth is now half-past six, -in the morning of existence. I have, once only, had the pleasure of -meeting him. He entered his father's study somewhat abruptly, mounted -on a timber steed, which, I am advised, he is already perfectly able -to manage; and, immediately he opened his mouth, with a raspberry-jam -border to it, I perceived that he would, at no distant day, become not -only a worthy member, but an undoubted ornament, of society. But this is -from my present purpose. - -Your Miscellany, sir, professes to furnish materials for the amusement -and delight of the community; and hitherto you have acted up to your -professions. But were it not as well, allow me to suggest, that you -should combine instruction with amusement,--that you should clear the -heart as well as purify the liver--that you should attend to the mind -at the same time that you tickle the midriff? You must confess, when -I remind you of it, that the rising generation has strong claims upon -you, which I am sure you will be anxious, and indeed most happy, to -allow. The Youth's New Vade-Mecum, then, is a compendious manual of -instruction, which cannot fail of becoming permanently serviceable and -efficient. Similar although I allow it to be, in many respects, to -certain "Guides to Youth" and "Young Man's Best Companions" which have -been published, yet I cannot but think that the precision with which the -precepts are laid down in it, and the judicious manner in which they are -conveyed, must cause it very shortly to supersede all other works of the -same nature. - -I enclose for your gratification the real name of the author, and I -grant you the discretionary power of whispering it to any grateful -parent (there may be many such) who would fain make the acquaintance and -cultivate the friendship of their benefactor: and I have the honour to -be, sir, Your obedient, humble servant, - CHARLES WHITEHEAD. - - - - - THE YOUTH'S NEW VADE-MECUM. - - My son, whose infant head I now survey, - Guiltless of hair, whilst mine, alas! is grey,-- - Whose feeble wailings through my bosom thrill, - And cause my heart to shake my very frill,-- - Incline thine ear, quick summon all thy thought, - And take this wisdom which my love has brought: - Perpend these precepts; sift, compare, combine; - And be my brain's results transferr'd to thine. - - Soon as thy judgment shall grow ripe and strong, - Learn to distinguish between right and wrong: - Yet ponder with deliberation slow, - Whether thy judgment be yet ripe or no; - For wrong, when look'd at in a different light, - Behold! is oft discovered to be right, - And _vice versâ_--(such the schoolmen's phrase)-- - Right becomes wrong, so devious Reason's maze! - - Take only the best authors' mental food, - For too much reading is by no means good; - And, since opinions are not all correct, - Thy books thyself must for thyself select. - - Accumulate ideas: yet despise - Reputed wisdom,--folly oft is wise; - And wisdom, if the mass be not kept cool, - Mothers, and is the father of, a fool. - - Be virtuous and be happy: good! but, stop,-- - They sow the seed who never reap the crop; - For virtue oft, which men so much exact, - Like ancient china, is more precious crack'd; - And happiness, forsooth, not over-nice, - Sometimes enjoys a pot and pipe with vice. - - Get rich; 'tis well for mind and body's health: - But never, never be the slave of wealth. - The gain of riches is the spirit's loss; - And, oh! my son, remember gold is dross. - - Be honest,--not as fools or bigots rave; - Your honest man is often half a knave. - Let Justice guide you; but still bear in mind - The goddess may mislead,--for she is blind. - - Hygeia's dictates let me now declare, - For health must be your most especial care. - Rise early, but beware the matin chill; - 'Tis fresh, but fatal,--healthy, but may kill: - Nor leave thy couch, nor break the bonds of sleep, - Till morning's beams from out the ocean leap; - Lest, crawling, groping, stumbling on the stair, - Your head descend, your heels aspire in air; - As down the flight your body swiftly steals, - Useless to know your head has sav'd your heels, - Prone on your face with dislocated neck, - You find that slumber which you sought to check. - - Early to bed, but not till nature call. - Be moderate at meals, nor drink at all, - Save when with friends you toast the faithful lass, - And raise the sparkling, oft-repeated glass; - Then, graver cares and worthless scruples sunk, - Drink with the best, my son,--but ne'er get drunk. - - Bathe in cold water: cautious, and yet bold, - Dive,--but the water must not be _too_ cold: - And still take care lest, as you gaily swim, - Cramp should distort and dislocate each limb. - When such the case, howe'er thy fancy urge, - Postpone the bracing pastime, and emerge. - Dangers on land as well as water teem, - But now the bank is safer than the stream. - - Say you should chance be ill (for, after all, - Men are but men on this terrestrial ball); - Should sickness with her frightful train invade, - Lose not a moment, but apply for aid.-- - Yet fancy oft, imagined symptoms sees, - And nervous megrim simulates disease.-- - Lo! at our call--the cry of coward fear-- - A chemist and a cane-sucker appear: - The one, tough roots from earth's intestines dug, - Pounds with strong arm, dissolves the nauseous drug; - The other, gazing with a portentous air, - Surveys the foolish tongue that call'd him there; - To dulcet tones that breath deceptive calm, - Your cash expires in his diurnal palm, - And, sick of physic you were forced to swill, - Long-labell'd phials indicate the bill. - - As learning's bridge progresses arch by arch, - So men, by gradual intellectual march, - From savages to citizens advance.-- - Then gentlemen are taught to fence and dance; - Whilst gay professors, with imposing show, - Present the violin, and hand the bow. - - Dance gracefully, and move with perfect ease, - Nor bend, nor keep inflexible, the knees; - Crawl not, nor with your head the ceiling touch-- - That were to move too little; this too much. - - When first to Music's study you would come, - In, and like charity, begin at home: - For links of harmony you weave in vain, - Whene'er you outrage ears you should enchain. - Some have I known, with their vile sharps and flats, - Whose fatal cat-gut wrought the death of cats; - Yea, a swift doom the very strings provide, - Their disembowell'd feline sires supplied! - - Fencing's a noble exercise; but thence - Flow dangers, may be told without offence. - Still scrutinize, at your gymnastic toil, - The button of your adversary's foil, - Lest you strike off, at active _carte_ and _tierce_, - That useful stay to tools which else will pierce; - And all too late you feel, consign'd to Styx, - Your life not worth the button you unfix. - - Swift let me call you to the sylvan grove, - Where nightingales and blackbirds sing of love. - Should love assail you, as it will, no doubt, - Nor rudely fan the flame, nor blow it out: - Sometimes, when smother'd, it the stronger grows; - And sometimes, when you stir it, out it goes. - Close in your breast a heart for beauty keep, - Yet ne'er imagine beauty but skin-deep: - Beauty is oft--a fact we must deplore-- - As deep as Garrick, and a great deal more. - - Let not your choice too short or tall appear, - No hole her mouth, or slit from ear to ear; - And, though 'tis well in daily life to greet - The man who struggles to make both ends meet, - Yet sure the task can no great triumph win, - Accomplish'd by a lady's nose and chin. - Yet I, perchance, my pen and paper waste; - These the exactions of an erring taste. - - But let your wife be modest, and yet free; - Coy, but not bashful; active as the bee; - And yet unlike that bee of busy wing, - That "proffers honey, and yet bears a sting;" - Not sad, but thoughtful; pensive, but not glum; - Grave without gloom; and silent, but not dumb; - Merry when mirth's in season, and yet sad - When nought akin to pleasure's to be had. - In all that you possess still let her share, - Yet wear no vestments you yourself should wear. - - And for yourself,--since now must I conclude,-- - Be courteous, yet close; and plain, not rude; - Open, but strict; and though reserv'd, yet frank; - Treat all alike, yet pay respect to rank; - Be dubious, e'en when reason would entice, - And ne'er take unsolicited advice. - So may my precepts sink into thy mind, - And make the wisdom which thou canst not find; - Until at length, so vast thy mental height, - The world, beholding thee, shall take a sight; - And men, in want of words to set thee higher, - Shall with one voice cry "Walker!" and retire. - - - - - A VISIT TO THE MADRIGAL SOCIETY. - -Everybody has heard of madrigals, and almost everybody has heard of the -Madrigal Society; but everybody does not know what madrigals are, and -almost everybody has _not_ dined with the Madrigal Society. Not that -that ancient and respectable body is an exclusive one,--keeping its -good dinners for its own private eating, and its good music for its own -private hearing: its freemasonry is extemporaneous, and a visitor is as -welcome to the whole fraternity as to the individual who may introduce -him. - -The Madrigal Society is the very Royal Exchange of musical enthusiasm -and good-fellowship, and certainly bears the palm away from its -"_fratelli rivali_." Its component parts are better amalgamated, and the -individuals composing them, appear to derive more thorough enjoyment -from their attendance, than in any other unions we have seen of the same -genus. - -For example, at one (which shall be nameless) there is a line of -demarcation between the professional and non-professional members; -another is so numerous, that it is broken into fifty coteries, as in the -boxes of a chop-house; and another enthusiastic little knot of vocal -harmonists is so strongly impressed with the sense of one another's -capabilities, that the speechifying, and toasting, and returning thanks -take up a vast deal more time then the music. - -Which of the thousand and one suggested _derivations_ of the _name_ -madrigal is the right one, is a question upon which we most humbly -beg to decline entering. Whether it owe its origin to some particular -feature in the words to which all secular _part music_ was set at an -early period; or whether, as some impertinent commentator has suggested, -it be a compound of two English words, "_mad_" and "wriggle,"--the one -having reference to the ecstatic state into which the listeners were -thrown by their first performance, the other to ----. But we dismiss -this as unworthy our consideration, and cut the question altogether. - -A madrigal may, we think, be best defined as a composition in general -set to a quaint little poem on some amatory or pastoral subject, with -parts for a number of voices; the majority being for four or five. -An unceasing flow of these parts, a kind of "push-on-keep-moving" -principle, appears one of its strongest characteristics; one voice -taking up the strain ere another lays it down,--seldom moving in -_masses_ or "_plain-song_" and with perhaps only one or two "_closes_" -(sometimes none) until the end. In the conduct of all this, a very -peculiar style of harmony is used. They are one and all imbued with -a quaintness, which all who have heard madrigals must have felt, and -could at once recognise; but which it is quite impossible to define in -anything less than a treatise, six volumes quarto at the least,--a task -upon which at present we have not the smallest intention of setting to -work. - -So much for a definition: now for a test. The best confirmation of the -genuineness of a madrigal is, the fact of its _bearing the weight of -a great body of voices_; that is to say, instead of its producing its -proper effect, each part being sung (as in a glee) by one voice, the -number of singers may be increased to any extent. And this, after all, -is the true touchstone of first-rate choral writing. The "Creation" of -Haydn, and "The Last Judgment" of Spohr, unquestionably produce their -best effect in an orchestra of moderate proportions; but to a chorus of -Handel, or a madrigal of Gibbons, perfect justice could only be done by -a body of singers that would fill St. Paul's, or cover Salisbury Plain. - -We have dined. The cloth vanishes,--there is a pause,--the party -simultaneously rise from their chairs,--the waiters at last (thanks -to a long course of training, mental and bodily,) show signs of -standing still for the next five minutes,--perfect silence pervades the -room,--when lo! a gentle murmur of high voices steals upon the ear,--the -strain is quickly imitated a few notes lower,--the basses massively -close up the harmonious phalanx, and we recognise the imperishable "Non -nobis, Domine." - -Sobered, not saddened, by the noblest of canons,--the most melodious -of those ingenious complexities,--a movement takes place among the -party. Do not suppose that the _singers_ are going to the bottom of the -table, for in that case _nobody_ would be left at the top; or, _vice -versâ_, to the top, for then the bottom would be deserted. You find your -neighbour to the right, has migrated to the other end of the room, and -your _vis-à-vis_ has established himself in his place. After being duly -puzzled by so unexpected a move, it appears that, unlike other convivial -assemblages, the order of precedency is observed here _after_, instead -of _before_ dinner; and that you must shift your position according to -your register, not of birth or baptism, but voice. "Order is Heaven's -first law," and the high and low characters around you, class themselves -accordingly, into altos, tenors, and basses. - -This little preparatory bustle over, and everybody again seated, there -is a brief pause, which we devote to speculations,--not on the character -of our new right-hand man (above mentioned),--not on the contents of -the minute-book which the president spreads open before him,--nor on -the pile of tomes which almost exclude the bodily presence of the -vice,--nor on the gentleman who is going to propose a new member,--but -on the "_dints_" in the table before us. The tops of all tables at -all taverns are, and have been from time immemorial, remarkable for -an infinite number of indentations varying in size and conformation. -This peculiarity is not indigenous to the aforesaid tables; they are -supposed, at some distant period of their existence, to have had faces -as unruffled as others of their kind; but the eternal succession of -thumps from glasses, plates, knives and forks, approbatory of speech, -sentiment, or song, furrows their physiognomy with deep, ineffaceable -lines,--albeit neither of study, thought, nor sorrow. - -The time has gone by for the autobiography of guineas, lap-dogs, sofas, -and sedan-chairs; birds and beasts no longer sport their apophthegms to -human ears; even the pot and kettle have done calling one another names; -"The Confessions of a Dinner-table, written by himself," would stand no -chance now; a second edition of the life of Mendoza would be as little -likely to take the town. Dinner-tables, like boxers, must count their -bruises in silence. Yon deeply-indented furrow, over which our wine is -absolutely tottering, is evidently a _memento_ of the days when the -feet were regularly knocked off the wine-glasses, and they, like their -holders later in the evening, lost their power of standing alone; when -_daylight_ unendurable and _heel-taps_ impossible. No hand lacking the -zeal of political excitement could have inflicted so uncompromising a -gash as the one near it. Bees'-wax and turpentine have somewhat softened -the sharpness of its outline; but its existence is identified with that -of the table itself. And that succession of little "_dibbs_," evidently -by the same hand,--what are they, but an unceasing monument to some -by-gone beau, who thus tattooed his approval of the best of all possible -toasts,--"The Ladies!" - -But our speculations are leading us astray; more especially as the -music-desks are before us, the books upon them, and "the boys" arrived. -And hark! the pitch-pipe--none of your whipper-snapper German Æolians or -waistcoat-pocket tuning-forks, but the veritable pitch-pipe which has -been in use since the year 1740--sounds the note of preparation, and the -order of the day begins in real earnest. - -The Madrigal Society does not, as its name would seem to imply, confine -itself exclusively to compositions which come under the designation of -madrigal. The motett and the ballet, which are variations of the some -genus, come in for a share of its notice. - -On referring to the book before us, for the number just given out by the -conductor, we find--a motett, Dr. Christopher Tye. The baton falls, and -we launch into the unexplored ocean of song before us. What breadth in -the harmonies! What stateliness in the progression of the parts!--and -what a depth of feeling under the incrustation of these crabbed old -modulations! - -And now for a madrigal. Will it be "Lady, thine eye," or "Cynthia, thy -song," or "Sweet honey-sucking bees?"--No: as we live, it is "Die not, -fond man!"--the noblest of them all. - -And now, another motett; and now--but stay! here is something unusual. -The vice looks to the chair--the chair looks to the vice. The vice, like -the sun over a mountain, shows his head above the wall of books before -him, and prepares to make a speech. "Gentlemen, I beg to call your -attention--" But we have forgotten the form, so we'll give the substance -of his observations, which go to prove that he has received a madrigal, -according to the rules of the society,--that is, anonymously,--which -he has looked over, and deems worthy of a trial. The parts, which are -of course not in the book, are distributed, and much good-natured -speculation is afloat; for the madrigalians, though conservatives, are -not exclusives. We begin:--there is a stoppage at the onset,--something -was wrong in the parts,--it is corrected, and we start once more;--the -precipice is passed in safety. Still it does not "go." There is no -good reason why it should not; and so it is tried again; is better -understood, and "goes" accordingly. A sealed paper is delivered to the -chairman, who opens it with much solemnity, and announces the name of -the composer, casting a most significant glance on an individual at one -corner of the table, who, for the last quarter of an hour, has been -engaged in the most unpleasing of all sedentary pursuits,--sitting upon -thorns. We drink his health; the individual rises, and for upwards of a -minute and some seconds, is supposed to occupy himself in making some -observations germane to the present subject, but which, from his state -of nervous trepidation, are quite inaudible. - -The books are again in requisition. We draw on firms of centuries' -standing, and our checks are duly honoured. The stately motett, -the graceful madrigal, and the sprightly ballet alternate in rapid -succession. What a contrast does this enthusiastic coterie present -to the listless audience of the concert-room or opera! No mob of -apathetical time-killers is here; but true and constant lovers of the -divine art, joining "with heart and voice" in strains to them as fresh -and beautiful as they were two hundred years ago! - -Oh! how we might gossip about and speculate upon the old fellows who -treasured up for us this legacy of fine things. Talk of love for their -art!----think of Luca Marenjio, who wrote a thousand madrigals; and Dr. -Tye, who set to music the whole of "The Acts of the Apostles!" - -The human voice is the noblest of all instruments. In the madrigal it -finds an exercise worthy of its powers. Music, as developed through -the medium of the voice, assumes a far more elevated and poetical -form than it ever presents through instrumental performance even of -the very highest character. Music is less essentially _music_, coming -through throats of flesh and blood than throats of wood or metal; but -it is something infinitely finer,--the unchecked emanation of the human -heart,--the current fresh from the well-springs of all that is good and -beautiful in man's nature. - -The changeableness of fashion, the perishability of all instrumental -music, is of itself sufficient evidence of this. Five-and-twenty years -ago, the works of Pleyel were the delight of every musical coterie -in Europe; now, there is not one amateur in fifty who ever heard -a bar of his music. And as for the cart-loads of sonatas, gigues, -pasacailles, serenatas, follias, fugues, concertantes, and "jewells" of -Dr. Bull, Paradies, Scarlatti, Geminiani,--yes, even Handel and Mozart -themselves!--they are regarded in about the same light as an Egyptian -papyrus, or a loaf of bread from Herculaneum. - -It is difficult indeed to conceive "The Jupiter Symphony," or the -"Sonate Pathétique," food for the virtuoso; but assuredly "Dove sono," -"The Hallelujah Chorus," and "St. Patrick's Day," are as imperishable as -expression, grandeur, and sunshine themselves. - -Sounds are the _body_ of music, to which the voice gives immortality and -a _soul_. To put the voice on the same level as an instrument, is to pit -matter against mind,--"man against cat-gut." - -There is a sense of personal enjoyment connected, too, with pure vocal -music performed in this manner, which it is quite impossible to find -in the theatre or concert-room. Our thoughts there, are perpetually -brought back to some technical matter, and our imagination curbed by the -audience, some individual association with the singers, or the "mise -de théâtre;" but here, sitting at our ease around the table, with our -"_part_" before us, joining in the harmony or not, as we please,--our -only care that the madrigal shall _go_ well, our only interruption a -glance now and then at the enthusiastic faces around us,--we feel truly -"the power of sound," and that our pleasure is without alloy. - -Hold! there is a slight drawback on our pleasure,--perfection is not -to be found even in the Madrigal Society. Where are the ladies? Oh, -Madrigalians! with what countenance can ye, month after month, and year -after year, continue singing Fair Oriana's praise, and bewailing the -cruelty of your Phillises, and Cynthias, and "Nymph of Diana," when you -thus close up the fountain of all your inspirations? Is your by-law, -forbidding all speechifying, a tacit confession of fear lest some -gallant visitor, fired with your own sweet songs, should spring on his -legs and propose "The Ladies"? Is this the reason why ye only drink "The -King," "The Queen," and--your noble selves? Shame on ye!--where are the -ladies? - -The truth must be spoken at all times. Old as the world is, it is -not yet quite steady enough to "chaperon" the fair sex to meetings -like those of the Madrigal Society. True; we have pretty well got rid -of the six-bottle men, and gentlemen have ceased to return home in -wheel-barrows: still something more must be done ere the most courteous -of chairmen can with propriety propose a new member with a soprano -voice, or the most zealous of secretaries second him. - -To do our friends justice, they have made a step in this matter. At the -annual festival, where the madrigals put on all their splendour, the -ladies _are_ admitted; but, alas! they are perched up in a gallery "all -by themselves." And even this bird's-eye view of gentlemen eating and -drinking, comes, like "the grotto," only once a-year. - -But these knotty points should be agitated before dinner. Let us turn to -our books once again,--sing "The Waits,"--"One fa la more,"--and then -"Good-night!" - - - - - LOVE AND POVERTY. - - Little Cupid, one day, being wearied with play, - Or weary of nothing to do, - Exclaimed with a sigh, "Now why should not I - Go shoot for a minute or two?" - Then snatching his bow, tho' Venus cried "No," - (Oh! Love is a mischievous boy!) - He set up a mark, in the midst of a park, - And began his nice sport to enjoy. - Each arrow he shot--I cannot tell what - Was the reason--fell short by a yard, - Save one with gold head, which far better sped, - And pierced thro' the heart of the card. - - MORAL. - My story discovers this lesson to lovers: - They will meet a reception but cold, - And endeavour in vain Beauty's smiles to obtain, - Unless Love tip his arrows with gold. - - - - - REFLECTIONS IN A HORSE-POND. - - TIME--NIGHT. - -Let me consider a little where I am! My senses are beginning to clear at -present, albeit my body is sticking in the mud, and seems to think of -nothing less. This plunge, disagreeable as it is, has been of service to -me: we should be thankful for everything, for they say "everything is -for the best;" and, upon this principle, a tumble into a horse-pond may -be a good. I shall, however, ascertain this better to-morrow (that is, if -I ever get out of the mud,--of which I am doubtful). In the mean time -I will, by way of passing the time, acknowledge my obligation. I am a -regenerated creature! Thanks be to Heaven! I can see: before my tumble -into these revivifying waters, my thoughts were wandering, and my sight -was dazzled; now they are fixed, immoveably fixed,--to this horse-pond; -and I only behold one moon instead of two. - -I do not exactly know how I came hither. I spent last evening with Tom -Rattlebrain, Ned Flighty, and Will Scamper; we had a famous supper, -and resolved to make a night of it. The weather was hot, stormy, and -goblinish; it led us to tell ghost-stories, which we did till our marrow -froze, and our parched throats cried out, like the horse-leech's two -daughters, "Give! give!" Purely to raise our courage and moisten our -palates, we had a couple of bottles additionally. I recollect that -after this we told some stories partaking more of the flesh than the -spirit, and that at two o'clock in the morning I agreed to ride home on -Daylight, hand in hand, like the fire-office insignia, with Scamper, -who was mounted on Wildfire. I remember something of trying to force -Daylight to cross that which I took to be a ferry. I recollect something -of our dispute upon this subject, but faintly; I can only guess how the -matter ended by the result,--for he is gone, and I am _here_! - -I suppose I must have struggled, flopped, and floundered about a good -deal before I could have been so firmly wedged in the mud as I am at -this moment. The water all around me is up to my chin, and the mud -beneath me is up to my knees; I have sunk considerably above my calves. -I really cut a very ridiculous figure! - -The first thing I remember distinctly was seeing my lighted cigar -floating, fizzing, and spitting peevishly upon the water. Poor thing! -it did not relish regeneration. I put out my hand to catch it; but it -fizzed angrily, and floated away from me. This "was the unkindest cut of -all;" and when I saw its light go out, I felt as if abandoned by all the -world. - -It just occurs to me that I have another cause of thanksgiving: since -one must sometimes fall into a horse-pond, I am grateful that it is an -English one. In some countries, now, those devils of the air--the birds -of prey--would keep wheeling, whirling, and shrieking above my head, -complimenting each other upon the good supper prepared for them, and -then coolly peck out my two eyes before my face! - -This idea is suggested by a somewhat uncomfortable circumstance, which, -notwithstanding my patience, I cannot but be sensible of. Something--I -conjecture either an eel or a rat--is gnawing at the boot on my right -leg; no other animals venture so deeply into the mud. I wish I could -raise my foot. - -If it be a rat, he will content himself with the leather, and gnaw away -till it be gone; but the eel prefers a bit of meat, and in that case he -is only busying himself to open his "pantry-door." Pray Heavens it be a -rat! - -I am a most enduring man. I remember suffering infinite misery a whole -season at the house of a particular friend; I was lodged in the best -bedroom, and a superb apartment it was. The bed was a magnificent one; -but, to my cost, there was a flea in it,--"the last flea of summer!" -Never shall I forget what I suffered from that single tormentor. I -should have known it was only one, from the peculiar pungency of his -bite, even if the invariable character of the mark had not also been -a witness. The room had been for a long period unoccupied, save by -this flea, the survivor of all his family and friends, who had died of -starvation in the course of the summer. I bore it patiently enough for -several nights, thinking that it was a tax to flea-manity which must be -paid; but when, night after night, week after week, the same torture -continued, I began to grow nervous and irritable. I sought after him -diligently in the morning, but never found anything save his trail. -Like Destiny, he was always to be felt, but never seen. In the night, -scarcely had I torn the skin off my shoulder, ere I was imperiously -called upon to apply the same remedy to my leg. I felt him hop across my -hand as I raised it up; and so rapid were his movements, that he seemed -to be jumping in every part of my body at once: like the Indian Apollo, -he appeared to have the power of multiplying his person, and of being -in fifty places at the same time. He was a single fiend "whose name was -Legion." I started in anguish; shook my sheets and my shirt; called -upon God, upon the devil; apostrophised the mistress of the house, and -mentally sent the housemaid to the hottest place I could think of. It -was all to no purpose; he seemed to have some extraordinary power of -disgorging his prey and clearing his stomach, which, like Time, was -always devouring,--never full. So rapidly did his constant consecutive -meals of breakfast, luncheon, dinner, tea, and supper tread upon each -other's heels, that I seemed to live twenty days in one tortured night. -I longed to complain to the master of the house; but how tell him there -was a flea in his best bed,--that bed in which he took such pride, and -beheld with so much admiration? At length I met the housemaid on the -stairs. She was as ugly as Repentance, crabbed as Chastity, and old as -Mother Shipton: nevertheless I addressed her as "My dear little girl!" -gave her a kiss and a piece of money, and entreated her to kill the -fleas in my bed. The next day I met her, and she said, "There bean't -no fleas in your bed as now, sir." Alas! I knew that,--there was but -one; and he was a flea of Fate, beyond her power to destroy. Still -the torture went on; still did I lie, night after night, miserable, -feverish, sleepless, pinched, torn, and tortured in every part of my -burning skin. At length, considering the enormous power possessed by -my tormentor, his divisibility, his invisibility, his infallibility, I -came at last to the conclusion, that it was no living flea that thus -distracted and disturbed me, but the ghost of some starved tenant of -former times, who was allowed this recreation to make amends for past -sufferings. This idea once established, I knew that I had no hope; I -had nothing for it but to fly: so I went to my friend, declared (to -his astonishment) my intention, and, when hard pressed for my reason, -painfully and reluctantly gave it. "A flea!" shouted he in a voice -between displeasure and mirth, "a flea--and in that bed!--_then you -must have brought it_!" Now was not this too much? I thought my heart -would have broken. I, who had endured so much--I, who had suffered -torture in silence for six long weeks, to be accused of having brought -that alderman of fleas with me! It was beyond human nature to bear. I -burst from his presence, packed up my clothes, and, though I am a very -good-tempered man, have not seen that friend since. I can never forgive -his accusation--I can never forget what I suffered! As I call to mind -that burning sorrow, I take comfort in the knowledge that I am standing -up to my neck in a horse-pond! - -Thank you, gentle lady moon! I am grateful for any kind of attention, -even though it should be of no use to me; but yours is. I wish I was -a poet now!--I could make something of this scenery. I have read a -good deal about "moonlight on the waters;" but I never was so near its -dancing beams before. The devil take this rat--how he nibbles! My boots -are new--a hole in them at least! There's a villanous odour that comes -over me from some part of the horse-pond, "at which my nose is in great -indignation." It strikes me also, from something uncomfortable in my -stomach, that in my plunge I must have swallowed a good allowance of -Mark Anthony's liquor. (_See_ SHAKSPEARE'S _Anthony and Cleopatra_, Act -1, scene 4.) The bare idea is enough to make me faint;--only who would -be fool enough to faint in a horse-pond? - -I have been in my life several times taken in, besides to-night, by -these waters. - -Thank you again, dear gracious moon! She's very bright just now. There -is a large tract of blue in the heavens over which, for at least the -next twenty minutes, she may travel without being "capped by a cloud;" -so I shall have time to look around me. I am nearly in the centre of -the pond; the water is perfectly tranquil, except when it bobs against -my chin, disturbed by the movement of my head. Lord help me! suppose I -should die here!--as, if nobody come to my assistance, I certainly shall. - -On my first ascertaining the character of my position, recollecting -that horse-ponds are generally in the neighbourhood of towns or farms, -I hallooed so lustily that I found my voice grow husky; so I determined -to reserve it for a better occasion--I mean in case any persons should -approach--Heaven send them! This would be a comfortless bed to die in! - -A huge frog has just discovered me; and he sits amongst the weeds below -the opposite bank, croaking out his speculations as to what I can be. -He stares earnestly; so do I. He takes my eye for a challenge--he is a -frog of courage, however, for he plunges into the water, swims towards -me, and plants himself directly opposite to my face. He croaks; I answer -very naturally, for the water has qualified my voice. The frog stares -again: "The voice is the voice of Esau, but the form is Jacob's." Now -he very gravely swims entirely round my head, and then again plants -himself in front. I laugh aloud; he backs a little. I open my eyes very -wide at him; he returns the compliment. My chin splashes the water about -him; he takes fright and disappears. - -Hark! there are certainly footsteps in the neighbourhood. -Halloo!--ough!--ah!--mercy upon me! my voice is quite gone, and I shall -be compelled to live in this horse-pond the remainder of my days. Who -will feed me, I wonder: the rat will not be so civil to me as the -ravens were to Elijah; and I have affronted the frog. Ha! the footsteps -come nearer--and nearer. 'Tis a man--I see him--a groom--I'll call. -Hallook!--ouk!--cro-ak! - -"D--n your croaking soul!" quoth the vagabond; and he flings a huge -stone at my head. - -Despair and distraction! what shall I do? Die! No, that's cowardly: -I'll live bravely; that is, if I can. The fellow is gone, and "I am -all alone!" Alone! What do I hear? Voices--yes; they come--most sweet -voices. A gentleman and the rascally groom aforesaid. - -"You have not dragged this pond to-night," says the master. - -"Indeed, sir, we did,--from one end of it to the other," replies the -fellow: "see how the weeds are disturbed." - -"You lie, you rascal! you did not, or you would have found me there," -said I. - -"Heighday!" cried the master; "what have we here?" - -"A gentleman in distress." - -"I should think so: but how came you in this pond?" - -"I'll tell you when I am out." - -"Help, all of you, fellows!" says the gentleman. "Now, sir, hold fast: I -was in search of a drunken uncle who has escaped from his servants. Pull -away, boys!--I expected to find him in this horse-pond, and I discover a -sober gentleman in his place." - -N.B. I did not think it necessary to rectify this latter mistake. - MAX. - - - - - INSCRIPTION FOR A CEMETERY. - - The grave must be the resting-place - Of all who come of Adam's race. - What matters it, if few or more - The years which our frail nature bore? - If we upon the roll of Fame - Left an imperishable name; - Or, safe within some calm retreat, - Escaped the turmoil and the heat, - The stir, the struggle, and the strife, - That make the sum of human life? - Of all the family of man, - Since first yon rolling spheres began - Amid the boundless realms of space - Their silent, dread, eternal race, - There's little to be said beside, - But that they lived, and that they died. - Sooner or later, 'tis the doom } - Of all, within the quiet tomb } - To find a refuge, and a home. } - - - - - NIGHTS AT SEA: - _Or, Sketches of Naval Life during the War._ - BY THE OLD SAILOR. - - No. II. - THE WHITE SQUALL. - - I was born in a cloud of sulphureous hue-- - Darkness my mother, and Flame my sire; - The earth shook in terror, as forth to its view - I sprang from my throne like a monarch of fire! - My brother, bold Thunder, hurraed as I sped! - My subjects laugh'd wild, till the rain from their eyes - Roll'd fast, as though torrents were dash'd overhead, - Or an ocean had burst through the bounds of the skies! - CHARLES SWAIN. - -My last, left the gallant Spankaway with her three topmasts over -the side; and a very natural question arises, "How did it happen?" -Her commander was as smart an officer as ever lived; an excellent -disciplinarian when on duty, a thoroughly brave man, but not much of a -seaman;--he was of a happy turn of mind himself, and nothing afforded -him greater pleasure than to see everybody else, happy around him. On -service no one could be more strict; but he loved to see his officers -surround his mahogany; and not one amongst them was more jovial than -Lord Eustace Dash. - -On the evening in question, Old Parallel had glanced at the glowing -clouds in the west; but the invitation to the captain's cabin had driven -the circumstances from his remembrance, and, whilst clinging to _port_, -he thought but little of a storm at sea. Mr. Sinnitt was the lieutenant -of the watch; but on such occasions, when there was no apprehension of -danger, the mate was allowed to assume the command of the deck, and his -superior joined his messmates over the flowing bowl. - -The evening was delightfully serene, and groups of seamen clustered -together; spinning yarns, conversing on things in general, or singing -songs in a low tone, so as not to disturb the sacred character of the -quarter-deck; where, however, the young gentleman left in charge was -drawing round him a little knot of favourite youngsters, eager to -take advantage of the relaxation of discipline. Some were attentively -listening to the hilarity going on in the captain's cabin,--for the heat -had rendered it necessary to open the skylights; others were paying -equal attention to the vocal talents of honest Jack, who, if he did -not possess quite so much grace or talent as his superiors, made ample -atonement for the deficiency by his peculiar and characteristic humour. -Here and there, the treasured grog was served out with scrupulous -exactness, exciting many a longing and envious eye. As in communities on -shore, every ship had its choice spirits,--its particular and especial -jokers, songsters, and tale-tellers--and, not unfrequently, that pest -to society, the plausible pettifogger, whose head, like that of a -Philadelphy lawyer, was constantly filled with proclamations. - - [Illustration: Jack detected sailing under false Colors] - -The moon shone with a crystalline clearness, and the gentle motion of -the frigate threw the shadows of the people in corresponding movements -on the deck, resembling the _ombres Chinois_ that delighted us so much -in boyhood. The look-outs were posted at their appointed stations; some -with a shipmate to bear them company--others alone, and thinking upon -merry England. - -"I say, Bill!" uttered the captain of the forecastle, addressing one of -the men, as he was looking to windward from the cat-head--or, as it was -more generally termed, 'Old Savage's picture-gallery,'--"I say, Bill! -somehow or another I don't much like the looks o' the sky thereaway; to -my thinking it's some'at fiery-eyed." - -"Gammon!" returned the man without moving from his position, "I'd ha' -thought you would have known better, Jem! Well, I'm blowed if we mayn't -live and larn as long as there's a flurry o' breath in the windsel! Why, -that's ounly the pride o' the sun, to show his glory to the last; would -you have him go out like a purser's dip,--a spark and away?" - -"No, Bill, I loves to see a good sunset," rejoined the other; "and I -never see'd finer then what I've see'd in these here seas. It's some'at -strange to my thinking, though, messmate, that God A'mighty should have -made this part o' the world so beautiful, and yet have put such d---- -lousy, beggarly rascals to live in it! Look at them there Italians, with -no more pluck about 'em than this here cat-head!" - -"Nay, shipmates," said the serjeant of marines, who had just joined -them, "you do yourselves injustice. I hope there is some pluck -_about_ the cat-head, though there may be none in it. But you say -right--perfectly right, as it regards those lazy-roany; they are a d---- -set, to be sure! But, their women, Jem--their women! Oh! they're dear, -delicious, lovely creaturs!" - -"Mayhap they may be to your thinking," responded the captain of -the forecastle rather contemptuously: "but give me a good, hearty, -right-arnest, full-plump, flesh-and-blood Englishwoman; and none o' your -skinny, half-starved, sliding-gunter-legged, spindle-shank sinoreas for -me!" - -"You manifest a shocking want of taste, shipmate," returned the -serjeant, proudly, and bringing himself to a perpendicular. "The Italian -women are considered the most lovely women in the world." - -"Tell that to the marines, ould chap!" chimed in a boatswain's mate, who -now made a fourth in the party. "The most lovely women in the world, eh? -Why, Lord love your foolish heart! I wouldn't give my Mrs. Sheavehole -for all that Italy could stow, take it from stem to starn." - -"She's your wife, Jack, and the mother of your children," argued the -serjeant; "but that cannot make her a bit the more of a beauty." - -"Can't it, though!" exclaimed the boatswain's mate, sharply, and at the -same time giving the mountain of tobacco in his cheek a thorough twist. -"If it don't, then I'm d----! and, setting a case, it's just this here: -when we first came within hail of each other, she was as handsome a -craft as ever had God A'mighty for a builder; every timber in her hull -was fashioned in Natur's own mould-loft, and she was so pinned and -bolted together that each plank did its own proper duty." - -"But she's declining in years, you know, Jack," urged the serjeant, -provokingly; "and though she might have been once handsome, yet age is a -sad defacer of beauty." - -"And suppose it is a _facer_ of beauty, it can't change the fashion of -the heart!" uttered the boatswain's mate. "But, that's just like you -jollies!--all for paint and pipe-clay. Now, Suke's as handsome to me as -ever she was; and when I sees her like an ould hen clucking over the -young uns, I'm blessed if I don't love her more than when she saved me -from having my back scratched by the tails o' the cat! I know, when -a craft is obliged to be unrigged and laid up in ordinary, she don't -look not by no manner o' means so well as when she was all a-taunto, -and painted as fine as a fiddle: but still, shipmates, she's the same -craft; and as for beauty, why, setting a case, it's just this here: -there's ould beauty, as well as young beauty; and it a'nt so much in -the figure-head, or the plank-shear, as having done your duty once, and -ready to do it again." - -"All that _may_ be very true, Jack," persevered the serjeant; "but then, -you must allow there is as great a difference in the appearance of some -women when compared to others, as there is in the build or rig of a -vessel." - -"Hearken to that, now!" responded the boatswain's mate. "Do you think -Jack Sheavehole wants to be told that a billy-boy arn't a ninety-eight, -or a Dutch schuyt a dashing frigate? But, look at this here craft that -now rolls us so sweetly over the ocean: arn't she as lovely now as when -she first buttered her bottom on the slips, and made a bed for herself -in the water? and won't she be the same beauty when she's put out of -commission, and mayhap be moored in Rotten-row? Well, she's stood -under us in many a heavy gale, and never yet showed her starn to an -enemy,--that's why I love her; not for what she may do, but for what she -has done." - -"But, I say, Jack! it's just the time for a yarn," said the captain of -the forecastle. "Tell us how Suke saved you from the gangway." - -"I wull, messmate--I wull," returned the other; "and then this lubberly -jolly shall see if I arn't got a good right to call her a beauty. I -belonged to the Tapsickoree, two-and-thirty; and, though I says it -myself, there warn't many more sich tight-looking, clean-going lads as -ould Jack Sheavehole--though I warn't _ould_ Jack then, but a reg'lar -smart, active, young blowhard of a maintopman. Well, we'd just come home -from foreign, and got three years' pay and a power o' prize-money; and -so most o' the boys goes ashore on liberty, and carries on till all's -blue. This was at Plymouth, shipmates; but, as we wur expecting to go -round to Spithead, I saves my cash--'cause why? I'd an ould father and -mother, from whom I'd parted company when a boy, and I thought, if I -could get long leave--thinks I, mayhap I can heave alongside of 'em, -with a cargo o' shiners, and it'll cheer the cockles o' their ould -hearts to see their son Jack togg'd off like a jolly tar, and captain -of a frigate's maintop; and, setting a case, why it's just this here: I -didn't want anything on 'em, but meant to give 'em better ground-tackle -to hould on to life by." - -"That was very kind of you, shipmate," said the serjeant. - -"Well," continued the boatswain's mate, without heeding the serjeant's -observation, "I has a bit of a spree ashore at Dock, in course; -but soon arter we goes round to Portsmouth. I axes for long leave; -and, as I'd al'ays done my duty to Muster Gilmour's--he was first -leeftenant--to Muster Gilmour's satisfaction, I gets my fortnight and my -liberty-ticket, and the large cutter lands me at Sallyport; so I hauls -my wind for the Blue Postes on the Pint, and enters myself on the books -of a snug-looking craft, as was bound through my native village.--Well, -shipmates, in regard o' my being on liberty, why, I was a gemman at -large; so I buys a few duds for ould dad, and a suit of new sails, and -some head-gear for the ould woman: for, thinks I to myself, mayhap we -shall cruise about a bit among the neighbours, and I'll let 'em see -we arn't been sarving the king or hammering the French for nothin'. -And, mayhap, thinks I, they arn't never got too much to grub; so I -gets a bag, and shoves in a couple of legs o' mutton and a whole shole -of turnips, a full bladder of rum, and, as I knew the old uns loved -cat-lap, there was a stowage of sugar and tea, with a bottle o' milk; -and, having plenty of the ready, I buys a little of everything useful in -the small way, that the ould chap at the shop showed me: and, my eyes! -but there was thousands of packages twisted and twined in true-blue -paper;--there was 'bacca, mustard, snuff, salt, soft tommy, pepper, -lickerice, matches, gingerbread, herrings, soap, pease, butter, candles, -cheese,--in short, something of everything, not forgetting a Welsh -wig and a mousetrap; and I'm blowed if I warn't regularly fitted out -for a three months' cruise! Well, by the time I'd got all my consarns -ship-shape, I twigs the signal for sailing, and so I gets aboard; and in -course, in regard o' my station in the maintop, I goes aloft, as high -as possible upon the upper-deck, and claps myself upon the luggage; but -when the governor as had charge comes to take the twiddling-lines, he -axes me to berth myself on the fokstle, and so, not to be outdone in -civility, or to make 'em think I'd let slip my edication, I comes down, -and goes forud, and stows myself away just abaft the pilot; when we made -sail, there was a party o' liberty boys from the ould Hibernia gives me -three cheers, and I waves my bit o' tarpaulin, sports a fresh morsel o' -'bacca, and wondered what made the houses and everything run past us so -quick; but I soon found out it was the craft--for I remembered the comb -of the sea did just the same when the frigate was walking along at a -spanking rate. So, for the first hour, I sits quiet and alone, keeping a -sharp look-out on the pilot, to see how he handled the braces, rounding -'em in to starboard, or to port--for, thinks I to myself, it's best to -larn everything--'cause why? who can tell but Jack Sheavehole mayn't -some day or another command just sich a consarn of his own! and how -foolish he'll look not to know which way to shape his course, or how -to steer his craft! But, I'm blowed! shipmates, if the horses didn't -seem to savvy the thing just as well as the man at the helm; for the -moment he tauten'd the gear, the hanemals slued round o' themselves all -ship-shape, and Bristor-fashion." - -"Why, it was the _reins_ that guided them," said the serjeant, laughing. - -"Then I'm blessed if it was!" returned old Jack; "for there warn't a -drop o' _rain_ fell that arternoon--it was a bright, sun-shiny day." - -"What you call twiddling-lines, they call reins," explained the -serjeant; "and the horses are steered by them." - -"Mayhap so, brother,--mayhap so," responded the boatswain's mate; "for I -arn't much skilled in them matters--'cause why? I never sail'd in one on -'em afore, and ounly once since;--the first was a happy trip, the last -was melancholy; and Jack sighed like an eddy wind in the galley funnel. -"But, to heave a-head--" - -"A good look-out before, there!" shouted the mate of the watch, from -the quarter-deck, where he was showing his authority by thrashing the -youngsters. - -"Ay, ay, sir!" responded the man at the cat-head; and then added, in a -lower tone, "They're having a jolly sheave-o in the cabin!" - -"It's a sad heart as never rejoices!" said the captain of the -forecastle. "But, I say, Jack! I don't like the look o' that sky to -windard." - -"It's one of two things--a parting blush o' the sun, or a gathering -squall o' the night," returned the boatswain's mate; "but we've no -reason to care about it--'cause, why? we're all as snug as possible. -Well, shipmates, to get on with my yarn:--when we'd run a league or -two, out of Portsmouth, we hove to at a victualling port, and I spied -a signal for good cheer hanging out aloft; and so, without any bother, -I boards 'em for a reg'lar stiff Nor'-wester, more nor half-and-half, -and says I to the pilot, 'Yo-hoy, shipmate!' says I, 'come, and set up -the standing backstays o' your heart a bit; and here, ould chap, is -someut to render the laneard;' and so I gives him a share out o' the -grog-tub, that set his eyes a-twinkling like the Lizard lights on a -frosty night. Well, just as we were going to trip the anchor again, a -pretty, smart-looking young woman rounds to under our starn and ranges -up alongside; and she says to the pilot, says she, 'Coachman, what'll -you charge to take me to ----?' and I'm blessed if she didn't name the -very port I was bound to!" - -"Why, 'tis quite romantic, Jack!" said the serjeant; "we shall, no -doubt, have a love-story presently: but, I'll wager you my grog -to-morrow, I can tell you who the female was." - -"Then, I'm blowed if you can!" retorted the boatswain's mate. "Now, who -was she, pray?" - -"Is it a fair bet?" inquired the serjeant with a look of conceited -knowledge. - -"No, she warn't a fair Bet, nor a fair Moll either," returned old Jack -surlily. "I thought you'd know nothing whatsomever about it! for that's -always the case when a jolly tries to shove his oar into a seaman's -rullock--'cause why? he don't savvy the loom from the blade." - -The serjeant laughed. "I meant a fair wager--that is, my allowance -against yours to-morrow that I name the female." - -"Done!" exclaimed the boatswain's mate; "and, shipmates, I call you all -to witness that everything's square and above-board." - -"Why, it was your Sukey, to be sure--Mrs. Sheavehole--anybody could tell -that," replied the serjeant. - -"There--you're out in your chrissening, ould chap, as you'll find -presently," asserted the veteran; "and so you've lost your grog. But, -d--it! I'd scorn to take a marine's allowance from him, though you -richly desarves it." - -"Come, heave ahead, Jack!" said the captain of the forecastle; "make a -clear run of it, and don't be backing and filling this fashion." - -"Ay, ay, Jem, I wull, I wull," answered old Jack. "But, I say, shipmate! -just clap a stopper on the marine's chattering-gear whilst I overhaul -my log.--Oh, now I have it! Up comes the young woman, and 'Coachman, -what'll you charge no take me to ----?'--'Seven shillings, ma'am,' says -he.--'Carn't you take me for less?' axes she; 'I've ounly got five, and -I am very tired with walking.'--'Not a ha'penny less, ma'am,' says he, -just as cool as an iceberg in Hudson's Bay; 'carn't do it, ma'am.'--'Oh, -do try!' says she, and I could see sorrow was pumping the tears into her -eyes; 'I would give you more if I had it,' says she.--'Carn't help it, -ma'am,' says ould surly-chops, 'carn't help it; grub for the hanemals -is very dear.'--'Oh, what shall I do!' says she so piteously; 'night is -coming on, and it's a long way to travel on foot; I shall sink under -it: do take the money!'--'Werry sorry, my dear,' says he, shaking his -blubber head like a booby, perched on a ratlin, 'werry sorry, but never -takes under price. You must use your trotters if you arn't never got -seven bob.'--'Then I'm d--if she does!' says I, 'for you shall carry -her.'--'Gammon!' says he, as spiteful as a pet monkey; 'who's to tip -the _fare_?'--So I ups and tells him a piece o' my mind, and axes -him if he ever know'd anything _unfair_ by Jack Sheavehole, or if he -thought I wanted to bilk him out o' the passage-money.--'Will you stand -the two odd bob?' axes he.--'And d' ye think I won't stand as much as -Bob or Dick, or any one else?' says I in a bit of a passion. 'Avast, -ould chap!' says I; 'humanity arn't cast off the mooring lashings from -my heart yet awhile, and I hopes never will;' and so I gives him a -seven-shilling bit without any more palaver, and 'Come, my precious,' -says I, houlding out my fin, 'mount areevo;' but I'm blessed if she -didn't hang back till the pilot rung out for us to come aboard! And -'Lord love you!' says I, 'you arn't afeard of a man-o'-war's-man, are -you?'--Oh no,' says she, brightening up for all the world like the -sun coming out of a fog-bank,--'Oh no; you have been my friend this -night, and God reward you for it!' So we soon clapped one another -alongside upon the break of the fokstle, and got to overhauling a little -smattering o' larning, by way of being civil, seeing as we'd ounly just -joined company. 'I'm thinking that's a pretty village you're bound to,' -says I in a dubersome way; 'I was there once,' says I, 'when I was -a boy about the height of a tin pannikin;' for, shipmates, I didn't -like to overhaul how I'd run away from home. 'Pray, is ould Martin -Joyce alive?' says I.--'He was when I left yesterday morning,' says -she; 'but he is confined to his bed through illness.'--'And the ould -woman.' says I, 'does she still hould on?'--'Yes,' says my companion; -'but she's lame, and almost blind! Well, I'm blow'd, shipmates, if I -didn't feel my daylights a-smarting with pain with the briny water that -overflowed the scuppers--'cause why? them there wur my own father and -mother, in the regard of my having been entered on the muster-books in -a purser's name, my reg'lar right-arnest one being Jack Joyce. 'And -what makes you cruising so far away from port?' says I, all kindly and -messmate-like.--'It's rather a long story,' says she; 'but as you have -been so good to me, why, I must tell you, that you mayn't think ill of -me. You shall have it as short as possible.'--'The shorter the sweeter, -my precious,' says I, seeing as I oughtn't to be silent. Well, she -begins--'Sister Susan and I are orphans; and when our parents died, ould -Martin and his dame, having no children, took us under their roof.'--'No -children!' says I. 'Why, I thought they had a young scamp of a son.' I -said this, shipmates, just to hear what she would log again me.--'Oh -yes,' says she; 'but he ran away to sea when a boy, and they never -heard from him for many years, till the other day they received a letter -from Plymouth to say he was in the Tapsickoree frigate, and expected to -be round at Spithead before long. So, the day before yesterday, a sailor -passing through the village told us she had arrived; and so his parents -getting poorer and poorer, with his father sick and his mother lame, I -thought it would be best to go to him and tell him of their situation, -that if he pleased he might come and see them once more before they -died.'--I was going to say, 'God A'mighty bless you for it!' but I -couldn't, shipmates; she spoke it so plaintively, that I felt sumeut -rise in my throat as if I was choking, and I gulped and gulped to keep -it down till I was almost strangled, and she went on:--'So yesterday I -walked all the way to Portsmouth, and went aboard the frigate; but the -officer tould me there was no man of the name of Joyce borne upon the -the books.'--'It was a d--lubberly thing!' says I, 'and now I remembers -it.'--'What,' says she, 'what do you mean?'--'Oh, nothing, my precious,' -says I, 'nothing in the world;' for I thought the time warn't come for -me to own who I was, and it fell slap across my mind that the doctor's -boy who writ the letter for me, had signalised my right-arnest name -at the bottom, without saying one word about the purser's consarn of -Sheavehole. 'And so you've had your voyage for nothing,' says I, 'and -now you're homeward-bound; and that's the long and the short on it. -Well, my precious, I'm on liberty; and as ould Martin did me a kindness -when I was a boy, why, I'll bring up for a few hours at his cottage, -and have a bit of a confab consarning ould times.' And the young woman -seemed mightily pleased about it; so that by the time we got to ----, -I'm blessed if, in all due civility, we warn't as thick as two Jews -on a payday. Well, we landed from the craft, and away we made sail in -consort for ould dad's cottage; and I'm blessed if everything didn't -look as familiar to me as when I was a young scamp of a boy! but I never -said not nothing; and so she knocks at the door, and my heart went -thump, thump,--by the hookey! shipmates, but it was just as I've seen a -bird try to burst out of its cage. Presently a voice sings out, 'Who's -there?'--and such a voice!--I never heard a fiddle more sweeterer in -the whole course of my life--'Who's there?' says the voice, in regard -of its being night, about four bells in the first watch.--'It's Maria,' -says my convoy,--'And Jack Sheavehole,' says I. 'Heave ahead, my cherub! -give us a clear gangway and no favour.'--'Oh, Maria, have you brought -him with you?' said a young woman, opening the door; and by the light -she carried in her hand, she showed a face as beautiful--I'm d--if -ever they carried such a figure-head as that, in any dock-yard in the -world!--'Have you brought him with you?' says she, looking at me, and -smiling so sweetly, that it took me all aback, with a bobble of a sea -running on my mind that made my ideas heave and set like Dutch fisherman -on the Dogger-bank.--'No,' says Maria, with a mournful sough, just as -the wind dies away arter a gale--'No; there was no such person on board -the frigate, and I have had my journey for nothing.'--'Nonsense!' says -the other; 'you want to play us some trick. I know this is he;' and she -pointed to me.--'Lord love your heart!' says I, plucking up courage, -for I'd flattened in forud, and fallen off so as to fill again,--'Lord -love your heart! I'd be anything or anybody to please you,' says I; -'but my name, d' ye mind, is Jack Sheavehole, at your sarvice in all due -civility. But let us come to an anchor, and then we can overhaul the -consarn according to Hamilton Moore.' So we goes in; and there sat my -poor ould mother by the remains of a fire, moored in the same arm-chair -I had seen her in ten years afore, and by her side was an ould wheezing -cat that I had left a kitten; and, though the cabin-gear warn't any -very great shakes, everything was as clean as if they'd just washed the -decks. 'Yo-hoy, dame!' says I, 'how do you weather the breeze?'--'Is -that my John?' says she, shipping her barnacles on her nose, like the -jaws of a spanker-boom on the saddle; and then Maria brings up alongside -of her, and spins the yarn about her passage to Portsmouth, boarding -the frigate, finding that she was out in her reckoning, and her return -with me; and ould dad, who was in his hammock in the next berth, would -have the door open to hear it all. And I felt so happy, and they looked -so downcast and sorrowful, that I'm blessed if I could stand it any -longer: so I seizes Susan round the neck, and I pays out a kiss as long -as the main-t'-bowline, till she hadn't breath to say 'Don't;' and then -I grapples 'em all round, sarving out hugs and kisses to all hands, -even to the ould cat; and I danced round the chairs and tables so, -that some o' the neighbours came running in; and 'Blow me tight!' says -I, 'side out for a bend; here I am again, all square by the lifts and -braces!'--and then I sings, - - 'Here I am, poor Jack, - Just come home from sea, - With shiners in my sack'-- - -and I whips out a handful of guineas from my jacket pocket, and shows -'em,-- - - 'Pray what do you think of me?' - -'What! mother,' says I, 'don't you know me? Why, I'm your true and -lawful son Jack Joyce; though, arter I run away, the purser made -twice-laid of it, and chrissened me Sheavehole, in regard of his -Majesty liking to name his own children. Never say die, ould woman! -there's plenty o' shot in the locker. And come, lasses,' says I to the -young uns, 'one on you stand cook o' the mess;' and I empties my bag -on the floor, and away rolled the combustibles, matches, and mutton, -and mousetraps, and all, scampering about like liberty boys arter a -six months' cruise; and I picks up the bladder o' rum, and squeezes -a good drain into a tea-cup, and hands it to the ould woman, topping -up her lame leg while she drinks. And, my eyes! there was a precious -shindy that night: the ould uns were almost dying with joy, and the -young uns had a fit o' the doldrums with pleasure. So I gets the big -pot under weigh, and shoves in both legs o' mutton and a full allowance -o' turnips, and I sarves out the grog between the squalls; and ould dad -blowed a whiff o' 'bacca, and mother payed away at the snuff; and nobody -warn't never happy if we warn't happy that night. Well, we'd a glorious -tuck-out o' mutton, wi' plenty o' capers; and arter that I stows the -ould woman in alongside o' dad, kisses the girls in course, and then -takes possession o' the arm-chair, where I slept as sound as a jolly on -sentry." - -"That's libellous!" exclaimed the serjeant somewhat roughly, as if -offended; "it is an unjust reflection, and is clearly libellous." - -"It's all the same to ould Jack whose _bellows_ it is," returned the -boatswain's mate carelessly; "it's no lie, howsomever, for none sleeps -so soundly as a marine on duty. But I arn't got time to overhaul that -consarn now; I know I laid in a stock of 'hard-and-fast' enough to -last for a three weeks' cruise. Well, shipmates, we keeps the game -alive all hot and warm, and we sported our best duds, and I makes -love to Susan, and we'd a regular new fit-out at the cottage, and I -leaves fifty pounds in the hands of the parson o' the parish for the -ould folks, and everything went on, in prime style, when one day the -landlord of the public comes in, and says he, 'Jack, the lobsters -are arter you.'--'Gammon!' says I; 'what can them fellows want with -me?'--'Arn't your liberty out?' says he.--'I never give it a thought,' -says I.--'Where's your ticket?' says he. So I showed him the chit; and -I'm blessed, shipmates, but it had been out two days! Well, there I was -in a pretty perdiklement; and the landlord, says he, 'Jack,' says he, -'I respect you for your goodness to the ould uns; though I suspects -they arn't altogether the cause of your losing your memory:' and he -looks and smiles at Suke. 'Howsomever, the lobsters are at my house -axing about you; and I thought I'd slip out and let you know, so that -you might have time to stow away.'--'Thanky, my hearty,' says I; 'but -I'm blessed, shipmates, if I warn't dead flabbergasted where to find a -stow-hole, till at last I hits upon a scheme to which Susan consented! -And what do you think it was, shipmates?--but you'd never guess! Why, -Suke slips on a pair o' my canvass trousers and comes to an anchor -in the arm-chair with a blanket round her, below, and I stows myself -under her duds, coiling away my lower stanchions tailor-fashion; and -the doctor coming in to see the ould folks, they puts him up to the -trick, and so he brings up alongside of her, and they whitens her face, -to make her look pale, as if she was nigh-hand kicking the bucket: and -there I lay, as snug as a cockroach in a chafing-mat, and in all due -decency, seeing as Suke had bent my lower casings hind part afore, -and there warn't a crack nor a brack in 'em. Presently in marches the -swaddies, and 'Pray whose cottage is this?' axed the serjeant as stiff -as a crutch.--'It is Martin Joyce's,' said Maria.--'Ay, I thought as -much,' says he: 'pray where is his son, Jack Joyce, or Jack Sheavehole?' -says he.--'He left us three days ago,' answered Maria, 'to join his -ship: I hope nothing has happened to him?'--'Indeed!' says the serjeant. -'Now, pretty as you are, I know that you are telling me what I should -call a very considerable ----' Suke shrieked out, and stopped what he -was going to say: for, shipmates, she sat so quiet, that, thinks I to -myself, they'll find out that she's shamming; so I gives her a smart -pinch in an inexpressible part, that made her sing out. Well, the long -and the short on it, is, that the party, who were looking out sharp for -'straggling money,' had a grand overhaul; but the doctor would not let -them interfere with Susan, who, he declared, was near her cushionmong; -and at last, being unable to find me, they hauls their wind for another -port.--Well, shipmates, as soon as possible arter they were gone, -why, Suke got rid of her trouble, and forth I came, as full-grown and -handsome a babby as ever cut a tooth. But I warnt safe yet; and so I -claps a suit of Suke's duds over my own gear, and, being but a little -chap, with some slutching, and letting out a reef or two here and there, -I got my sails all snugly bent, and clapped a cap with a thousand little -frills round my face, and a straw hurricane-house of a bonnet as big -as a Guineaman's caboose over all, with a black wail hanging in the -brails down afore, and my shoes scandaled up my legs, that I made a -good-looking wench. Well, I bid all hands good-bye. Suke piped her eye -a bit; but, Lord love you! we'd made our calculations o' matrimony, -and got the right bearings and distance, (else, mayhap, I should never -have got stowed away under her hatches,) and she was to join me at -Portsmouth, and we were to make a long splice of it off-hand; but then, -poor thing! she thought, mayhap, I might get grabbed and punished. -Up comes the coach; but the fellow wouldn't heave to directly, and -'Yo-hoy!' says I, giving him a hail.--'Going to Portsmouth, ma'am?' says -he, throwing all aback, and coming ashore from his craft.--'To be sure -I am,' says I. 'What made you carry on in that fashion, and be d--to -you!--is that all the regard you have for the sex?' says I.--'Would you -like to go inside, ma'am?' says he, opening the gangway port.--'Not -a bit of it,' says I: 'stow your damaged slops below, but give me a -berth 'pon deck.'--'Werry good, ma'am,' says he, shutting the gangway -port again; 'will you allow me to assist you up?'--'Not by no manner o' -means,' says I. 'Why, what the devil do you take me for! to think the -captain of a frigate's maintop can't find his way aloft!'--'You mean the -captain of the maintop's wife,' says Susan, paying me back the pinch -I gave her.--'Ay, ay, my precious,' says I; 'so I do, to be sure. God -bless you! good-b'ye! Here I go like seven bells half struck!--carry on, -my boy, and I'm blessed if it shan't be a shiner in your way!' And so -we takes our berths, and away we made sail, happy-go-lucky, heaving-to -now and then just to take in a sea-stock; and the governor had two eyes -in his head, and so he finds out the latitude of the thing, but he -says nothing; and we got safe through the barrier and into Portsmouth, -and I lands in the street afore they reached the inn,--for, thinks I -to myself, I'd better get berthed for the night and go aboard in the -morning. Well, shipmates, I parts company with the craft, and shapes my -course for Pint,--'cause I knew a snug corner in Capstan-square, and I -was determined to cut with all skylarks, in regard o' Suke. Well, just -as I was getting to steer with a small helm, up ranges a tall man who -had seen me come ashore from the coach, and 'My dear,' says he, 'what! -just fresh from the country?' But I houlds my tongue, shipmates, and he -pulls up alongside and grabs my arm. 'Come, don't be cross,' says he; -'let me take you in tow; I want to talk with you, my love.' I knew the -voice well; and though he had a pea jacket over his uniform-coat, and, -take him 'half way up a hatchway,' he was a d-- good-looking fellow, yet -nobody as ever had seen him could forget them 'trap-stick legs;' and -so, thinks I to myself, Jack, you'd better shove your boat off without -delay: for, d'ye see, shipmates, I'd sailed with him when I was a -mizen-top-mun in the ould Stag, and I well remembered Sir Joseph Y--ke. -But I'm blessed if he didn't stretch out arter me, and sailed two foot -to my one; and 'Come, come, my darling,' says he, 'take an honest tar -for your sweetheart. Let's look at that beautiful face;' and he catches -hould o' the wail and hauls it up chock ablock; but I pulls down my -bonnet so as he couldn't see my figure-head, and I carries on a taut -press to part company. But, Lord love yer hearts! it warn't no manner -o' use whatsomever--he more than held his own; and 'A pretty innocent -country wench indeed!' says he. 'What! have you lost your tongue?'--'No, -I'm d-- if I have!' says I: for I forgot myself, shipmates, through -vexation at not being able to get away. 'Hallo!' says he, gripping me -tight by the shoulder; 'who have we here?' I'm blessed, shipmates, if, -what with his pulling at my shawl, and my struggling to sheer off, -my spanker boom didn't at that very moment get adrift, and he caught -sight of it in a jiffy. 'Hallo!' says he, catching tight hold of the -pig-tail, and slueing me right round by it. 'Hallo!' says he, 'I never -see an innocent country wench dress her hair in this way afore;--rather -a masc'line sort o' female,' he says. 'Who the devil are you?' 'It's -Jack Sheavehole, your honour,' says I, bringing up all standing; and, -knowing his generous heart, thinks I, Now's your time, Jack; overhaul -the whole consarn to him, and ten to one but he pulls you through the -scrape somehow or other. So I ups and tells him the long and the short -on it, and he laughs one minute, and d--ns me for a desarting willun -the next; and 'Come along!' says he 'I must see what Captain B--n will -think of all this.' So he takes me in tow, and we went into one of the -grand houses in High-street; and 'Follow me,' says he, as he walked up -stairs into a large room all lighted up for a sheave-o; and there wur -ladies all togged out in white, and silver and gold, and feathers, and -navy officers and sodger officers,--a grand dinner-party. 'B--n,' hails -Sir Joseph, 'here's a lady wants you;' and he takes me by the hand, all -complimentary like, and the captain of the frigate comes towards us, -and I'm blessed if every soul fore and aft didn't fix their eyes on -me like a marine looking out for a squall. 'I've not the pleasure of -knowing the lady,' says the skipper; 'I fear, Sir Joseph, you're coming -York over me. Pray, ma'am, may I be allowed the happiness of seeing -your countenance and hearing your name?'--'I'm Jack Sheavehole, yer -honour,' says I, 'captain o' the Tapsickorees maintop, as yer honour -well knows.'--'I do, my man,' says he with a gravedigger's grin on his -countenance: 'and so you want to desert?'--'Never, yer honour,' says -I, 'in the regard o' my liking my ship and my captain too well.'--'No, -no, B--n,' says Sir Joseph, 'I must do him justice. It appears that -he had long leave, and onknowingly overstayed his time; so he rigged -himself out in angel's gear to cheat them devils of sodgers. I'll vouch -for the fact, B--n,' says he, 'for I saw him myself get down from the -coach--.'--'All fresh from the country, yer honour,' says I.--'Ay, all -fresh from the country,' chimes in Sir Joseph. 'He's an ould shipmate -o' mine, B--n, and I want you, as a personal favour to myself to back -his liberty-ticket for to-morrow. Such a lad as this, would never desart -the sarvice.'--'If I would, then I'm d--! saving yer honour's presence,' -says I. Well, shipmates, there I stood in the broad light, and all the -ladies and gemmen staring at me like fun; and 'Come, B--n,' says Sir -Joseph, 'extend his liberty till to-morrow'--'Where's your ticket?' axes -the skipper: and so, in regard of its being in my trousers pocket, I -hauls up my petticoats to get at it; and, my eyes! but the women set up -a screeching, and the officers burst out in a broadside o' laughing, and -you never heard such a bobbery as they kicked up,--it was a downright -reg'lar squall." - -"Ay, squall indeed," said the captain of the forecastle: "here it comes -with a vengeance!" he bellowed out with stentorian lungs. "Hard up -with the helm--hard a-weather." In an instant the sea was one sheet of -foam; the wind came whistling like the rustling of ten thousand arrows -in their swiftest flight; a report like the discharge of a heavy piece -of artillery was heard forward, and away flew the jib like a fleecy -cloud to leeward. The frigate heeled over, carrying everybody and -everything into the lee scuppers; the lightning hissed and cracked as -it exploded between the masts, making everything tremble from the keel -to the truck; broad sheets of water were lifted up and dashed over the -decks fore and aft: indeed, it seemed as if the gale were striving to -raise the ponderous vessel from the ocean for the purpose of plunging -it into the dark abyss; a thick mist-like shroud hung round her, alow -and aloft, as she struggled to lift herself against the tempest. The -topsail halliards were let go; but the nearly horizontal position of the -masts prevented the sails from running down. Inevitable destruction for -the moment threatened to engulph them all, when "crack, crack, crack!" -away went the topmasts over the side; the spanker sheet had been cut -away, and off bounced the spanker after the jib. The frigate partially -righted, and Lord Eustace and his officers rushed to the deck. But the -squall had passed: the moon again shone beautifully clear; the deceitful -sky and still more deceitful ocean were all smiles, as if nothing had -happened,--though the evidences of their wrath were but too apparent -in the dismantled state of his Majesty's ship. But we must again leave -them, as we did before, to - - "Call all hands to clear the wreck." - - - - - THE USEFUL YOUNG MAN. - A SECOND SERIES. BY WILLIAM COLLIER. - - "There's one of us in every family." - - To make ourselves useful's a duty we owe - To mankind and ourselves in our sojourn below; - To return good for evil, and always "to do - Unto others as you'd have them do unto you:" - So I bear all with patience, resolved, if I can, - To act well my part as a Useful Young Man! - - But, alas! _entre nous_, 'tis a difficult task, - As seldom I'm left in life's sunshine to bask; - For I'm hurried, and worried, imposed on by all, - Who think I should run at their beck or their call: - "So obliging," folks say, "is their favourite Sam, - That he well earns the name of the Useful Young Man!" - - Each morning at breakfast I'm doomed to peruse - "The Herald," and "Post," for "the family news," - While the toast, eggs, and coffee, which fall to my lot, - Get a pretty considerable distance from hot: - Yes, such are the COMFORTS--deny it who can?-- - That fall to the share of each Useful Young Man! - - If Jane, or Maria, for work should agree, - The dear creatures invariably send down for me - To make myself useful, and read while they knit, - Paint, draw, or do anything they may think fit. - Thus, Sam--poor pill-garlic!--they safely trepan: - Alack! what a life leads a Useful Young Man! - - If the day's rather wet, and they can't gad about, - They think nothing whatever, of sending me out:-- - "Now, Sam, my good fellow, just pop on your hat; - Run to _Howell's_ for this thing, and _Holmes's_ for that; - You'll make yourself pleasant we know, if you can,-- - What a comfort to have such a Useful Young Man!" - - When John, our fat butler, or Bridget, the cook, - Have leisure for reading "some novelty book," - They ne'er think of asking my leave to peruse, - But help themselves freely to just what they choose: - Making free with my novels is no novel plan, - For THEY own Master Sam's such a useful Young Man! - - Once Thomas, the footman, kissed Anne on the stairs, - Who loudly squalled out, just to give herself airs; - When my father ran down, in great anger, to see - What the cause of the squeaking and squalling could be. - Tom had bolted; but not till they'd settled a plan - To throw all the blame on _the Useful_ Young Man! - - When the Opera we visit, I'm kept in the rear - Of our box, and can scarce get a glimpse, I declare, - Of the stage, or the audience;--so only remain, - To trot up to _Dubourg_ for _punch à la Romaine_, - To run out for a book, or to pick up a fan:-- - Alas! what a drudge is a Useful Young Man! - - But sad is my fate when I go to a rout. - If a toothless old maid sits a partner without, - The beaux are looked o'er, but they always agree - To fix the _agreeable_ task upon me; - For to dance with all _bores_, 'tis the province of Sam, - 'Deed the file of each victimised Useful Young Man! - - If we're late at the dance, and no coach to be had, - There's Sam! the dear fellow! the exquisite lad! - He'll search all the stands in the town, but he'll gain - A coach for his friends--though it's pelting with rain - Oh! such are the _pleasures_--deny it who can-- - That fall to the lot of a Useful Young Man! - - To be nice about trifles is not over wise; - Where's the churl that finds favour in woman's bright eyes? - To be nice about trifles, is trifling with folly, - For the right end of life is but left to be jolly; - So I'll make up my mind just to stick to this plan, - And PAG _out_ my _terms_ as a Useful Young Man. - - - - - REMAINS OF HAJJI BABA. - - - CHAPTER V. - -Having bought some spangled stuffs for the trousers of the harem of -our exalted grand vizier, (upon whom be blessings!) and despatched -them, with letters, to the foot of the Shah's throne by an express -Tatar, I joined my Greek companions at the Adrianople Gate, and left -Constantinople for the country of the Francs. - -I found my new friends were raving with the new malady. It seems that -they now called themselves free,--a blessing which they endeavoured -to persuade me was beyond all price; for, as far as I could learn -from their definition of it, I found that now they could wear yellow -slippers, put on a green coat, and wrap white muslin round their heads, -without being called to account. However, in order to secure these -advantages, it appeared that they were making no small sacrifices, for -they were quarrelling amongst themselves to their hearts' content; -and that more fell by the knives and stabs of their neighbours and -countrymen than ever in former times fell even by the despotism of -their Turkish rulers. Although I frequently asserted that quiet, peace, -and security from danger were great objects in life; yet I found that -I had a great deal to undergo before I could make them agree to that -plain fact; and at length, seeing that they had made out a certain -scheme of happiness of their own, the principal ingredient of which, -was the endurance of every thing rather than to give power to the true -believers, I allowed them to enjoy it without further molestation. - -After many adventures,--such as robberies by Bulgars, an escape from -shipwreck on the Danube, dislocation of bones in little carts in -Wallachia, incarceration within four bare walls at the Austrian frontier -on pretence of our being unclean men, contamination from pork and wine -among the Majars, and disordered patience brought about by phlegmatic, -smoking, slow-driving, ya! ya! post-boys in Germany,--we reached Vienna. -It was a day upon which I frequently exclaimed "_Ilham dulillah!_" the -day when I first saw the lofty spire of the great infidel church of that -city; for I was tired of everything: tired of my companions, tired of my -eternal hot seat in the corner of a coach, and longed to have a place to -myself where I might bless and curse at my pleasure whomsoever I should -like so to do. - -My first care upon arriving here, was to inquire about the object of my -mission,--the state of England. Wherever I went, I heard with a chuckle -that she had had her day, that she was going down fast, that too much -prosperity was daily destroying her; and every one added, with a sneer, -"Ah, they thought themselves the wisest of the sons of the earth; but -see! they are its greatest fools, for they do not know how to keep -what they have got." One of the great proofs which I continually heard -brought forward of the decay of her power and wealth, was the failure of -an enterprise which to me was inexplicable, but which, every one said, -in her better days would never have been abandoned. What I could make -out of the story was this:--It seems the Ingliz, in their madness, were -tired of going over their river in the common way,--that is, by bridges; -and so they determined to try a new way,--that is, to go under it. -Madness seized them; money poured in; they dug into the bowels of the -earth like moles; the workmen heard the river flowing over them,--still -they feared not, but dug on; at length it broke in upon them,--still -they cared not; they were drowned,--still they dug. All the world was -alive about it; everybody thought of the pleasure of cheating the old -bridges, and the nation seemed charmed that they had found a totally -novel mode of getting from one side of a river to another, without going -over it, when, all at once, symptoms of decay broke out. They had got -halfway when the work stopped; and the whole population, putting the -finger of astonishment into the mouth of disappointment, went home, -and, stepping over their thresholds with their right legs instead of -their left, waited for a return of good-luck--but it came not; their -luck evidently has turned, and there is the half-finished hole to attest -it. "Poor Ingliz!" thought I, when I heard this; "where are now my old -friends the Hoggs, my moon-faced Bessy, and her infidel Figsby? Shall I -find them again? perhaps they may have been lost, with many others, in -the mad enterprise of digging this great hole under their river!" - -I left my Greeks at Vienna, and, taking a place in a moving caravan -on wheels, called a diligence, but which went slower than one of -our strings of camels, I travelled onwards through towns, cities, -hamlets,--through forests, over rivers, over mountains peopled by -various tribes of Francs, all indifferent about showing their women's -faces, eating the unclean beast, drinking wine, shaving and washing -just as they pleased: ignorant of the blessed Koran, and staring wide -when such a country as Iran was mentioned to them. They all agreed in -sneering at the Ingliz, and assuring me that I should find that nation -upon their last legs, and their king with scarcely any power left him. - -At length we reached the country of the French Francs. Here I heard -that they had got rid of two or three kings since those days when -I was last near them; and that, after having sworn to maintain new -governments as fast as they were made, were now tired of the last king -they had created, and were in the full enjoyment of all the wretchedness -naturally flowing from change. I was told that they had been increasing -in wealth and respectability, until they lost their last king, when -their prosperity fell, as if by magic. Now, no man was certain of the -possession of his property even for a day; and every one was obliged by -turns to arm himself cap-a-pie, to do his duty as a soldier, in order to -secure public happiness at the point of the bayonet. - -We entered the happy city of Paris just at the moment when a large band -of well-dressed soldiers were firing upon a mob, who were throwing -large stones at them, and crying out, as the words were interpreted to -us, "Liberty for ever!" "Down with the king!" This ceremony, we were -assured, was performed about once a month. I asked my companions in the -coach what they meant by liberty, but I found no one could give me any -intelligible explanation; for it seems the French had all that they -could possibly require, and that, if they wanted more, it must be to -live without laws, without a king, without religion, and with a right to -appropriate their neighbour's goods, or cut their neighbour's throat. - -I trembled from head to foot all the time that I lived in this happy -city, fearful of never being able to get out of it with a whole skin; -at length I made an effort, and, accompanied by Mahboob, I took places -in a travelling coach, and reached the sea-side opposite to the coast -of England. I was lucky to see with my own eyes that this country was -yet in existence after the many accounts I had heard of its total -destruction. - - - CHAPTER VI. - -I crossed over from France to England, mounted upon a species of -dragon spouting smoke and exhaling fire, to which the famous monster -of Mazanderan, slain by Rustam the Valiant, was a mere plaything. -But--shall I say it?--the awful sickness which seized me whilst -performing this feat, so overpowered me, that it was impossible for -me, the slave of the asylum of the universe, to put my instructions -into execution, and to write down in a book all the wonders which in -part came to my understanding on that auspicious day. I may confidently -assert that no follower of the blessed Ali ever suffered so much in so -short a time as I then did. I was first taken from my French bed before -the day began to dawn, and put upon this English monster. As soon as -its wings began to expand, and to move through the waters, an universal -tremor assailed it, which communicated itself to me and all with me; and -I continued to be well shaken until I reached the shores of England. -Then I felt so giddy that I thought my head had got into the infernal -regions, until I soon became certain that my stomach had followed it -there also. There I lay groaning, making noises,--oh, such noises!--that -if they could have been wafted to the ear of the king of kings, -his heart would have smote him for having placed his slave in this -predicament! When I was told that we were arrived, I soon was restored -to myself, and hastened from the bowels of the monster to the light -of heaven; and there, indeed, I saw a town, and a castle, and living -men and women, and, truly, nothing indicating a ruined country and a -desponding people. We landed at this place. It was called Dover; and -as I was told, is famous for a recent controversy whether it should be -spelt with an _o_ or an _e_ in the last syllable. From time immemorial -it had possessed the _e_; but such was the spirit of change that they -had now transformed it into the _o_, although the lovers of old customs -and good order kept to the old sacred _e_. "When that spirit seizes a -nation, who knows," thought I, "when changes begin, where they may end?" -If we were to hearken to all our enlightened sofis in Persia, they would -expunge many sayings in our blessed Koran; and, as we have not a second -prophet to direct us, one man's change would be as good as another's. -Bit by bit all would be upset; we should not have a law left for our -direction, and we should finish by cutting each other's throats in order -to settle which was the best way to live. - -I thought, however, that I could discover some symptoms of beggary in -the state of the country, by what happened when I was first setting foot -on the infidel shore. Two scrutinising-looking Francs stood on each side -of a board over which I was to walk on stepping from the boat to land; -and when I ventured to do so, they stopped me, passed their hands over -the protuberances of my person, and were about to seize a cashmere shawl -which I wore round my waist, when I exclaimed, "The dogs are eating -dirt!" which brought some of my friends on board the packet to my help. -Explanations were made, and I was let pass. These were officers of -customs. "But," thought I, "is it possible that this great nation can be -brought to such a state of want that it permits its officers to rob a -poor stranger!" I was told of odd things. It was hinted to me, that the -burnt father's whelps looked mightily hard at my beard, and that they -had hinted that, by rights, I ought to pay duty for it, as foreign hair. - -Having landed, with Mahboob close at my heels, we were almost crushed to -death by a mob of ruffians, who took violent possession of our persons, -one pulling us one way, the other the other, roaring the oddest words by -way of congratulations on first landing, which to this day I have not -made out. "The Ship!" bawled one; "York!" cried another; "Red Lion!" -said the next; "Blue Posts!" said the next. "_Be Jehanum!_" roared I; -and, at length, by dint of main force, I was rescued by my friend in the -packet, and taken safe into a caravanserai that stood by the sea-shore. -Here, indeed, the kindness shown me by many men and women,--the bows, -the dips, the smiles, the sugared words which were lavished upon me, -made up in part for the rude sort of reception which I had hitherto -experienced, and the sunshine of satisfaction dawned over my heart. -But still a doubt hung about my mind; and I asked myself how it was -possible that I should all at once have become such an object of tender -interest and affection to a set of infidels who had never seen me -before,--who probably did not know whether Iran was situated above the -surface of the heavens, or within the bowels of the earth,--who perhaps -had never heard of the name of our asylum of the universe, nor even of -our blessed prophet? I then reflected upon what had happened to us when -we had landed before, in England, and recollected that, at the end of -all things, there came a certain little odd-looking bit of paper which -the infidels called "bill," by virtue of which all their civilities, all -their kindness, all their apparent hospitality were condensed into two -or three crooked cyphers, and then converted into sums of gold, whether -the stranger was agreeable, or not agreeable, to the transformation. -I quite streamed from every pore as I thought upon that moment of my -retribution, for my wits were my principal stock in hand; money being -little, and, I feared, credit less. However, as long as the civility -lasted, I was delighted, and I made as free a use of the caravanserai as -if it had been the Shah's Gate. - -I never lost sight of the object of my mission. I was delighted to have -landed without having excited a suspicion of the nature of my character; -and, as England is the head-quarters for curious men,--for, owing to -her vast foreign possessions, she imports them from all parts,--no -one thought it strange that two men with beards, with sheep-skin caps -on, and mounted on high-heeled green slippers, should arrive amongst -them to take a walk through their country. I was charmed, too, to have -created an interest in the breast of an infidel Englishman who had been -my fellow-passenger on board the packet. He was a low, rotund man, of -evident discretion in speech, the master of moderation, and the lord of -few words. There was no display in his dress, for he buttoned himself -up tight in his broadcloth coat, exhibited no chains, and contented -himself with a rough stick with a hook to it. I found that he had -been in India,--where many English have been; and, when I could not -understand all he said to me in his own language, I was glad to find he -could explain himself fully by the help of some score of indifferent -Persian words. He had helped me out of the dilemma with the custom-house -officers, had rescued me out of the fangs of the complimentary harpies, -had installed me in the caravanserai; and had thus gained a claim upon -my gratitude. - -I had occasionally asked him about the state of his country, but I had -never been able to get more out of him than a shake of his head. From -what I could discover from the exterior of things, certainly there was -no indication of decay; and indeed, compared with what I had observed -in the other countries of Europe, there seemed here to be an increased -state of prosperity. It was evident that I had been everywhere hoaxed -upon the declining state of England, and that envy alone had excited -the report spread to her disadvantage. When we talk of ruin in Persia, -we see it at once: villages without inhabitants, dry water-courses, -abandoned caravanserais, ragged and wan-looking peasants, and tyrannical -governors. But here I saw a flourishing town, happy people, new -buildings, busy faces, and no appearance at all of governors. I remarked -this to my infidel friend: still he wagged his head, and talked of -things unknown to my understanding. The utmost I could draw from him -was, that he did not like _chopping and changing_. When I had discovered -the true meaning of these words I could not help saying to myself, "Our -Shah has long enough tried '_chopping_,' without gaining prosperity, I -wish he too would try _changing_; he might perhaps succeed better." I, -however, for the present determined to keep my own counsel, and apply -the opening draught of inquiry to the malady of ignorance as often as -such relief came within my power. - - - - - [Greek: Scholazontos ascholia.] - - A LONDON FOG. - - Who has not seen a London fog? I ween - All those who live there, often must have seen - This "darkness visible:" - For much I write not; but, for those who dwell - Where 'tis not known, an anecdote I'll tell - Both droll and risible. - - 'Twas on a day,--I'm not quite certain when, - For many such have been, and will again - Occur, I'll stake my life,-- - A heavy fog took daylight out of sight;[91] - So thick it was, that I am sure you might - Have cut it with a knife. - - You could not see your hand before your face. - E'en cabs and coaches knew not how to trace - Their way along the town; - But, on that day, through many a window flew, - To shopmen's horror! On the pavements, too, - Folks ran each other down. - - Imagine, now, a pork-shop--I don't know - Quite _where_; but _there_, in many a tempting row, - Most pleasing to the sight, - Hung pork and hams, inside, and at the door - Outside; "'twas _grease_, but living _grease_ no more." - (Byron is my delight.) - - Behind the counter, mute and anxious, sat - The owner of these goodly things; and at - Them first, and then the door, - He look'd alternate, for no one that day - Had call'd to buy; the fog kept folks away. - He thought the fog a bore! - - Long had he sat in expectation vain; - "He sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd and look'd again," - Yet no one came to buy! - The day was spent, he rose to shut his shop: - Just at that moment he was led to stop,-- - A person caught his eye. - - "A customer at last!" the porkman thought; - Fancied some pork or hams already bought, - And bow'd, "Your servant, ma'am! - "Bad walking out o' doors to-day," quoth he. - (This could not be gainsaid at all.) Said she, - "Do you see there here ham?" - - Now, though the fog as dark enough _without_, - _Inside_ 'twas clear: the porkman had no doubt, - His ham he saw and knew: - He could not make the question out; no more - Could fancy why she kept so near the door, - But said, "Of _course_ I do." - - She, with a grin facetious, said, "Well, then, - I'm blow'd if you will ever see't again;" - And ran away outright. - The porkman hurried quickly to the door, - Too late, alas! to see; for, long before, - His ham was out of sight! - T. G. G. - -[91] "Eripiunt subito nubes coelumque diemque."--Virg. Æn. i. v. 88. - - - - - EPIGRAM. - - You ask me, Roger, what I gain - By living on a barren plain:-- - This credit to the spot is due, - I live there without seeing you. - - - - - SHAKSPEARE PAPERS.--No. I. - - SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. - - "For those who read aright are well aware - That Jaques, sighing in the forest green, - Oft on his heart felt less the load of care - Than Falstaff, revelling his rough mates between." - _MS. penes me._ - - -"Jack Falstaff to my familiars!"--By that name, therefore, must he -be known by all persons, for all are now the familiars of Falstaff. -The title of "Sir John Falstaff to all Europe" is but secondary and -parochial. He has long since far exceeded the limit by which he bounded -the knowledge of his knighthood; and in wide-spreading territories, -which in the day of his creation were untrodden by human foot, and in -teeming realms where the very name of England was then unheard of, -Jack Falstaff is known as familiarly as he was to the wonderful court -of princes, beggars, judges, swindlers, heroes, bullies, gentlemen, -scoundrels, justices, thieves, knights, tapsters, and the rest whom he -drew about him. - -It is indeed _his_ court. He is lord paramount, the _suzerain_ to -whom all pay homage. Prince Hal may delude himself into the notion -that he, the heir of England, with all the swelling emotions of soul -that rendered him afterwards the conqueror of France, makes a butt of -the ton of man that is his companion. The parts are exactly reversed. -In the peculiar circle in which they live, the prince is the butt of -the knight. He knows it not,--he would repel it with scorn if it were -asserted; but it is nevertheless the fact that he is subdued. He calls -the course of life which he leads, the unyoked humour of his idleness; -but he mistakes. In all the paths where his journey lies with Falstaff, -it is the hard-yoked servitude of his obedience. In the soliloquies put -into his mouth he continually pleads that his present conduct is but -that of the moment, that he is ashamed of his daily career, and that -the time is ere long to come which will show him different from what he -seems. As the dramatic character of Henry V. was conceived and executed -by a man who knew how genius in any department of human intellect would -work,--to say nothing of the fact that Shakspeare wrote with the whole -of the prince's career before him,--we may consider this subjugation -to Falstaff as intended to represent the transition state from spoiled -youth to energetic manhood. It is useless to look for minute traces of -the historical Henry in these dramas. Tradition and the chronicles had -handed him down to Shakspeare's time as a prince dissipated in youth, -and freely sharing in the rough debaucheries of the metropolis. The same -vigour "that did affright the air at Agincourt" must have marked his -conduct and bearing in any tumult in which he happened to be engaged. -I do not know on what credible authority the story of his having given -Gascoigne a box on the ear for committing one of his friends to prison -may rest, and shall not at present take the trouble of inquiring. It -is highly probable that the chief justice amply deserved the cuffing, -and I shall always assume the liberty of doubting that he committed -the prince. That, like a "sensible lord," he should have hastened to -accept any apology which should have relieved him from a collision -with the ruling powers at court, I have no doubt at all, from a long -consideration of the conduct and history of chief justices in general. - -More diligent searchers into the facts of that obscure time have -seen reason to disbelieve the stories of any serious dissipations of -Henry. Engaged as he was from his earliest youth in affairs of great -importance, and with a mind trained to the prospect of powerfully -acting in the most serious questions that could agitate his time,--a -disputed succession, a rising hostility to the church, divided -nobility, turbulent commons, an internecine war with France impossible -of avoidance, a web of European diplomacy just then beginning to -develope itself, in consequence of the spreading use of the pen and -inkhorn so pathetically deplored by Jack Cade, and forerunning the -felonious invention, "contrary to the king's crown and dignity," of -the printing-press, denounced with no regard to chronology by that -illustrious agitator;--in these circumstances, the heir of the house of -Lancaster, the antagonist of the Lollards,--a matter of accident in his -case, though contrary to the general principles of his family,--and at -the same time suspected by the churchmen of dangerous designs against -their property,--the pretender on dubious title, but not at the period -appearing so decidedly defective as it seems in ours, to the throne of -France,--the aspirant to be arbiter or master of all that he knew of -Europe,--could not have wasted all his youth in riotous living. In fact, -his historical character is stern and severe; but with that we have -here nothing to do. It is not the Henry of battles, and treaties, and -charters, and commissions, and parliaments, we are now dealing with;--we -look to the Henry of Shakespeare. - -That Henry, I repeat, is subject and vassal of Falstaff. He is bound -by the necromancy of genius to the "white-bearded Satan," who he feels -is leading him to perdition. It is in vain that he thinks it utterly -unfitting that he should engage in such an enterprise as the robbery -at Gadshill; for, in spite of all protestations to the contrary, he -joins the expedition merely to see how his master will get through his -difficulty. He struggles hard, but to no purpose. Go he must, and he -goes accordingly. A sense of decorum keeps him from participating in the -actual robbery; but he stand close by, that his resistless sword may aid -the dubious valour of his master's associates. Joining with Poins in the -jest of scattering them and seizing their booty, not only is no harm -done to Falstaff, but a sense of remorse seizes on the prince for the -almost treasonable deed-- - - "Falstaff sweats to death, - And lards the lean earth as he walks along; - Wer't not for laughing, _I should pity him_." - -At their next meeting, after detecting and exposing the stories related -by the knight, how different is the result form what had been predicted -by Poins when laying the plot! "The virtue of this jest will be, the -incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell us when we meet -at supper: how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, -what extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this lies the jest." -Reproof indeed! All is detected and confessed. Does Poins _reprove_ -him, interpret the word as we will? Poins indeed! That were _lèze -majesté_. Does the prince? Why, he tries a jest, but it breaks down; -and Falstaff victoriously orders sack and merriment with an accent of -command not to be disputed. In a moment after he is selected to meet Sir -John Bracy, sent special with the villainous news of the insurrection of -the Percies; and in another moment he is seated on his joint-stool, the -mimic King of England, lecturing with a mixture of jest and earnest the -real Prince of Wales. - -Equally inevitable is the necessity of screening the master from -the consequence of his delinquencies, even at the expense of a very -close approximation to saying the thing that is not; and impossible -does Hal find it not to stand rebuked when the conclusion of his joke -of taking the tavern-bills from the sleeper behind the arras is the -enforced confession of being a pickpocket. Before the austere king his -father, John his sober-blooded brother, and other persons of gravity or -consideration, if Falstaff be in presence, the prince is constrained -by his star to act in defence and protection of the knight. Conscious -of the carelessness and corruption which mark all the acts of his -guide, philosopher, and friend, it is yet impossible that he should not -recommend him to a command in a civil war which jeopardied the very -existence of his dynasty. In the heat of the battle and the exultation -of victory he is obliged to yield to the fraud that represents Falstaff -as the actual slayer of Hotspur. Prince John quietly remarks, that the -tale of Falstaff is the strangest that he ever heard: his brother, who -has won the victory, is content with saying that he who has told it is -the strangest of fellows. Does he betray the cheat? Certainly not,--it -would have been an act of disobedience; but in privy council he suggests -to _his_ prince in a whisper, - - "Come, bring your luggage [the body of Hotspur] _nobly_--" - -nobly--as becomes your rank in _our_ court, so as to do the whole of -your followers, myself included, honour by the appearance of their -master-- - - "Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back: - For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, - I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have." - -Tribute, this, from the future Henry V.! Deeper tribute, however, is -paid in the scene in which state necessity induces the renunciation -of the fellow with the great belly who had misled him. Poins had -prepared us for the issue. The prince had been grossly abused in the -reputable hostelrie of the Boar's Head while he was thought to be out -of hearing. When he comes forward with the intention of rebuking the -impertinence, Poins, well knowing the command to which he was destined -to submit, exclaims, "My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge, -and turn all to merriment, if you take not the heat." Vain caution! The -scene, again, ends by the total forgetfulness of Falstaff's offence, -and his being sent for to court. When, therefore, the time had come -that considerations of the highest importance required that Henry -should assume a more dignified character, and shake off his dissolute -companions, his own experience and the caution of Poins instruct him -that if the thing be not done on the heat,--if the old master-spirit -be allowed one moment's ground of vantage,--the game is up, the good -resolutions dissipated into thin air, the grave rebuke turned all into -laughter, and thoughts of anger or prudence put to flight by the -restored supremacy of Falstaff. Unabashed and unterrified he has heard -the severe rebuke of the king--"I know thee not, old man," &c. until an -opportunity offers for a repartee: - - "Know, the grave doth gape - For thee thrice wider than for other men." - -Some joke on the oft-repeated theme of his unwieldy figure was twinkling -in Falstaff's eye, and ready to leap from his tongue. The king saw his -danger: had he allowed a word, he was undone. Hastily, therefore, does -he check that word; - - "Reply not to me with a fool-born jest;" - -forbidding, by an act of eager authority,--what he must also have felt -to be an act of self-control,--the outpouring of those magic sounds -which, if uttered, would, instead of a prison becoming the lot of -Falstaff, have conducted him to the coronation dinner, and established -him as chief depositary of what in after days was known by the name of -backstairs influence. - -In this we find the real justification of what has generally been -stigmatized as the harshness of Henry. Dr. Johnson, with some -indignation, asks why should Falstaff be sent to the Fleet?--he had -done nothing since the king's accession to deserve it. I answer, he -was sent to the Fleet for the same reason that he was banished ten -miles from court, on pain of death. Henry thought it necessary that -the walls of a prison should separate him from the seducing influence -of one than whom he knew many a better man, but none whom it was so -hard to miss. He felt that he could not, in his speech of predetermined -severity, pursue to the end the tone of harshness towards his old -companion. He had the nerve to begin by rebuking him in angry terms as -a surfeit-swelled, profane old man,--as one who, instead of employing -in prayer the time which his hoary head indicated was not to be of long -duration in this world, disgraced his declining years by assuming the -unseemly occupations of fool and jester,--as one whom he had known in -a dream, but had awakened to despise,--as one who, on the verge of the -gaping grave, occupied himself in the pursuits of such low debauchery as -excluded him from the society of those who had respect for themselves -or their character. But he cannot so continue; and the last words he -addresses to him whom he had intended to have cursed altogether, hold -forth a promise of advancement, with an affectionate assurance that -it will be such as is suitable to his "strength and qualities." If in -public he could scarce master his speech, how could he hope in private -to master his feelings? No. His only safety was in utter separation: it -should be done, and he did it. He was emancipated by violent effort; did -he never regret the ancient thraldom? Shakspeare is silent: but may we -not imagine that he who sate crowned with the golden rigol of England, -cast, amid all his splendours, many a sorrowful thought upon that old -familiar face which he had sent to gaze upon the iron bars of the Fleet? - -As for the chief justice, he never appears in Falstaff's presence, save -as a butt. His grave lordship has many solemn admonitions, nay, serious -threats to deliver; but he departs laughed at and baffled. Coming to -demand explanation of the affair at Gadshill, the conversation ends -with his being asked for the loan of a thousand pounds. Interposing -to procure payment of the debt to Dame Quickly, he is told that she -goes about the town saying that her eldest son resembles him. Fang and -Snare, his lordship's officers, are not treated with less respect, -or shaken off with less ceremony. As for the other followers of the -knight,--Pistol, Nym, Bardolph,--they are, by office, his obsequious -dependents. But it is impossible that they could long hang about him -without contracting, unknown even to themselves, other feelings than -those arising from the mere advantages they derived from his service. -Death is the test of all; and when that of Falstaff approaches, the -dogged Nym reproaches the king for having run bad humours on the knight; -and Pistol in swelling tone, breathing a sigh over his heart "fracted -and corroborate," hastens to condole with him. Bardolph wishes that he -was with him wheresoever he has gone, whether to heaven or hell: he has -followed him all his life,--why not follow him in death? The last jest -has been at his own expense; but what matters it now? In other times -Bardolph could resent the everlasting merriment at the expense of his -nose--he might wish it in the belly of the jester; but that's past. The -dying knight compares a flea upon his follower's nose to a black soul -burning in hell-fire; and no remonstrance is now made. "Let him joke -as he likes," says and thinks Bardolph with a sigh, "the fuel is gone -that maintained that fire. He never will supply it more; nor will it, -in return, supply fuel for his wit. I wish that it could." And Quickly, -whom he had for nine and twenty years robbed and cheated,--pardon -me, I must retract the words,--from whom he had, for the space of a -generation, levied tax and tribute as matter of right and due,--she -hovers anxiously over his dying bed, and, with a pathos and a piety well -befitting her calling, soothes his departing moments by the consolatory -assurance, when she hears him uttering the unaccustomed appeal to God, -that he had no necessity for yet troubling himself with thoughts to -which he had been unused during the whole length of their acquaintance. -Blame her not for leaving unperformed the duty of a chaplain: it was not -her vocation. She consoled him as she could,--and the kindest of us can -do no more. - -Of himself, the centre of the circle, I have, perhaps, delayed too long -to speak; but the effect which he impresses upon all the visionary -characters around, marks Shakspeare's idea that he was to make a -similar impression on the real men to whom he was transmitting him. -The temptation to represent the gross fat man upon the stage as a mere -buffoon, and to turn the attention of the spectators to the corporal -qualities and the practical jests of which he is the object, could -hardly be resisted by the players; and the popular notion of the -Falstaff of the stage is, that he is no better than an upper-class -Scapin. A proper consideration, not merely of the character of his mind -as displayed in the lavish abundance of ever ready wit, and the sound -good sense of his searching observation, but of the position which he -always held in society, should have freed the Falstaff of the cabinet -from such an imputation. It has not generally done so. Nothing can be -more false, nor, _pace tanti viri_, more unphilosophical, than Dr. -Johnson's critique upon his character. According to him, - -"Falstaff is a character loaded with faults, and with those faults -which naturally produce contempt. He is a thief and a glutton, a coward -and a boaster, always ready to cheat the weak, and prey upon the poor; -to terrify the timorous, and insult the defenceless. At once obsequious -and malignant, he satirizes in their absence those whom he lives by -flattering. He is familiar with the prince only as an agent of vice, -but of this familiarity he is so proud, as not only to be supercilious -and haughty with common men, but to think his interest of importance to -the Duke of Lancaster. Yet the man thus corrupt, thus despicable, makes -himself necessary to the prince that despises him, by the most pleasing -of all qualities, perpetual gaiety; by an unfailing power of exciting -laughter, which is the more freely indulged, as his wit is not of the -splendid or ambitious kind, but consists in easy scapes and sallies -of levity, which make sport, but raise no envy. It must be observed, -that he is stained with no enormous or sanguinary crimes, so that his -licentiousness is not so offensive but that it may be borne for his -mirth. - -"The moral to be drawn from this representation is, that no man is -more dangerous than he that, with a will to corrupt, hath the power to -please; and that neither wit nor honesty ought to think themselves safe -with such a companion, when they see Henry seduced by Falstaff." - -What can be cheaper than the venting of moral apophthegms such as that -which concludes the critique? Shakspeare, who had no notion of copybook -ethics, well knew that Falstaffs are not as plenty as blackberries, and -that the moral to be drawn from the representation is no more than that -great powers of wit will fascinate, whether they be joined or not to -qualities commanding grave esteem. In the commentary I have just quoted, -the Doctor was thinking of such companions as Savage; but the interval -is wide and deep. - -How idle is the question as to the cowardice of Falstaff. Maurice -Morgann wrote an essay to free his character from the allegation; and -it became the subject of keen controversy. Deeply would the knight -have derided the discussion. His retreat from before Prince Henry and -Poins, and his imitating death when attacked by Douglas, are the points -mainly dwelt upon by those who make him a coward. I shall not minutely -go over what I conceive to be a silly dispute on both sides: but in the -former case Shakspeare saves his honour by making him offer at least -some resistance to two bold and vigorous men when abandoned by his -companions; and, in the latter, what fitting antagonist was the fat and -blown soldier of three-score for - - "That furious Scot, - The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword - Had three times slain the appearance of the king?" - -He did no more than what Douglas himself did in the conclusion of the -fight: overmatched, the renowned warrior - - "'Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the shame - Of those that turned their backs; and, in his flight, - Stumbling in fear, was took." - -Why press cowardice on Falstaff more than upon Douglas? In an age when -men of all ranks engaged in personal conflict, we find him chosen to a -command in a slaughterous battle; he leads his men to posts of imminent -peril; it is his sword which Henry wishes to borrow when about to engage -Percy, and he refuses to lend it from its necessity to himself; he can -jest coolly in the midst of danger; he is deemed worthy of employing -the arm of Douglas at the time that Hotspur engages the prince; Sir -John Coleville yields himself his prisoner; and, except in the jocular -conversations among his own circle, no word is breathed that he has -not performed, and is not ready to perform, the duties of a soldier. -Even the attendant of the chief justice, with the assent of his hostile -lordship, admits that he has done good service at Shrewsbury. All this, -and much more, is urged in his behalf by Maurice Morgann; but it is far -indeed from the root of the matter. - -Of his being a thief and a glutton I shall say a few words anon; but -where does he cheat the weak or prey upon the poor,--where terrify the -timorous or insult the defenceless,--where is he obsequious; where -malignant,--where is he supercilious and haughty with common men,--where -does he think his interest of importance to the Duke of Lancaster? -Of this last charge I see nothing whatever in the play. The "Duke" -of Lancaster[92] is a slip of the Doctor's pen. But Falstaff nowhere -extends his patronage to Prince John; on the contrary, he asks from -the prince the favour of his good report to the king, adding, when he -is alone, that the sober-blooded boy did not love him. He is courteous -of manner; but, so far from being obsequious, he assumes the command -wherever he goes. He is jocularly satirical of speech; but he who has -attached to him so many jesting companions for such a series of years, -never could have been open to the reproach of malignity. If the sayings -of Johnson himself about Goldsmith and Garrick, for example, were -gathered, must he not have allowed them to be far more calculated to -hurt their feelings than anything Falstaff ever said of Poins or Hal? -and yet would he not recoil from the accusation of being actuated by -malignant feelings towards men whom, in spite of wayward conversations, -he honoured, admired, and loved? - -"Health and fair greeting from our general, The prince Lord John and -Duke of Lancaster;" - -but it occurs nowhere else, and we must not place much reliance on the -authenticity or the verbal accuracy of such verses. He was Prince John -of Lancaster, and afterwards Duke of Bedford. The king was then, as the -king is now, Duke of Lancaster. - -Let us consider for a moment who and what Falstaff was. If you put -him back to the actual era in which his date is fixed, and judge him -by the manners of that time; a knight of the days perhaps of Edward -III.--at all events of Henry IV.--was a man not to be confounded with -the knights spawned in our times. A knight then was not far from the -rank of peer; and with peers, merely by the virtue of his knighthood, -he habitually associated as their equal. Even if we judge of him by -the repute of knights in the days when his character was written,--and -in dealing with Shakspeare it is always safe to consider him as giving -himself small trouble to depart from the manners which he saw around -him,--the knights of Elizabeth were men of the highest class. The queen -conferred the honour with much difficulty, and insisted that it should -not be disgraced. Sir John Falstaff, if his mirth and wit inclined -him to lead a reckless life, held no less rank in the society of the -day than the Earl of Rochester in the time of Charles II. Henry IV. -disapproves of his son's mixing with the loose revellers of the town; -but admits Falstaff unreproved to his presence. When he is anxious to -break the acquaintance, he makes no objection to the station of Sir -John, but sends him with Prince John of Lancaster against the archbishop -and the Earl of Northumberland. His objection is not that the knight, -by his rank, is no fitting companion for a son of his own, but that he -can better trust him with the steadier than the more mercurial of the -brothers. - -We find by incidental notices that he was reared, when a boy, page to -Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, head of one of the greatest houses -that ever was in England, and the personal antagonist of him who was -afterwards Henry IV; that he was in his youth on familiar terms with -John of Gaunt, the first man of the land after the death of his father -and brother; and that, through all his life, he had been familiar with -the lofty and distinguished. We can, therefore, conjecture what had -been his youth and his manhood; we see what he actually is in declining -age. In this, if I mistake not, will be found the true solution of the -character; here is what the French call the _mot d'énigme_. Conscious -of powers and talents far surpassing those of the ordinary run of men, -he finds himself outstripped in the race. He must have seen many a man -whom he utterly despised rising over his head to honours and emoluments. -The very persons upon whom, it would appear to Doctor Johnson, he was -intruding, were many of them his early companions,--many more his -juniors at court. He might have attended his old patron, the duke, at -Coventry, upon St. Lambert's day, when Richard II. flung down the warder -amidst the greatest men of England. If he jested in the tilt-yard with -John of Gaunt, could he feel that any material obstacle prevented him -from mixing with those who composed the court of John of Gaunt's son? - -In fact, he is a dissipated man of rank, with a thousand times more wit -than ever fell to the lot of all the men of rank in the world. But he -has ill played his cards in life. He grumbles not at the advancement of -men of his own order; but the bitter drop of his soul overflows when -he remembers how he and that cheeseparing Shallow began the world, and -reflects that the starveling justice has land and beeves, while he, the -wit and the gentleman, is penniless, and living from hand to mouth by -the casual shifts of the day. He looks at the goodly dwelling and the -riches of him whom he had once so thoroughly contemned, with an inward -pang that he has scarcely a roof under which he can lay his head. The -tragic Macbeth, in the agony of his last struggle, acknowledges with -a deep despair that the things that should accompany old age,--as -honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,--he must not look to have. -The comic Falstaff says nothing on the subject; but, by the choice of -such associates as Bardolph, Pistol, and the rest of that following, -he tacitly declares that he too has lost the advantages which should -be attendant on years. No curses loud or deep have accompanied his -festive career,--its conclusion is not the less sad on that account: -neglect, forgotten friendships, services overlooked, shared pleasures -unremembered, and fair occasions gone for ever by, haunt him, no doubt, -as sharply as the consciousness of deserving universal hatred galls the -soul of Macbeth. - -And we may pursue the analogy farther without any undue straining. -All other hope lost, the confident tyrant shuts himself up in what he -deems an impregnable fortress, and relies for very safety upon his -interpretation of the dark sayings of riddling witches. Divested of the -picturesque and supernatural horror of the tragedy, Macbeth is here -represented as driven to his last resource, and dependent for life -only upon chances, the dubiousness of which he can hardly conceal from -himself. The Boar's Head in Eastcheap is not the castle of Dunsinane, -any more than the conversation of Dame Quickly and Doll Tearsheet is -that of the Weird Sisters; but in the comedy, too, we have the man, -powerful in his own way, driven to his last "frank," and looking to -the chance of the hour for the living of the hour. Hope after hope -has broken down, as prophecy after prophecy has been discovered to be -juggling and fallacious. He has trusted that _his_ Birnam Wood would not -come to Dunsinane, and yet it comes;--that no man not of woman born is -to cross his path, and lo! the man is here. What then remains for wit or -warrior when all is lost--when the last stake is gone--when no chance of -another can be dreamt of--when the gleaming visions that danced before -their eyes are found to be nothing but mist and mirage? What remains for -them but to die?--And so they do. - -With such feelings, what can Falstaff, after having gone through a life -of adventure, care about the repute of courage or cowardice? To divert -the prince, he engages in a wild enterprise,--nothing more than what -would be called a "lark" now. When deer-stealing ranked as no higher -offence than robbing orchards,--not indeed so high as the taking a slice -off a loaf by a wandering beggar, which some weeks ago has sent the -vagrant who committed the "crime" to seven years' transportation,--such -robberies as those at Gadshill, especially as all parties well knew that -the money taken there was surely to be repaid, as we find it is in the -end,[93] were of a comparatively venial nature. Old father antic, the -Law, had not yet established his undoubted supremacy; and taking purses, -even in the days of Queen Elizabeth, was not absolutely incompatible -with gentility. The breaking up of the great households and families -by the wars of the Roses, the suppression of the monasteries and the -confiscation of church property by Henry VIII, added to are adventurous -spirit generated throughout all Europe by the discovery of America, -had thrown upon the world "men of action," as they called themselves, -without any resources but what lay in their right hands. Younger members -of broken houses, or aspirants for the newly lost honours or the ease of -the cloister, did not well know what to do with themselves. They were -too idle to dig; they were ashamed to beg;--and why not apply at home -the admirable maxim, - - "That they should take who have the power, - And they should keep who can," - -which was acted upon with so much success beyond the sea. The same -causes which broke down the nobility, and crippled the resources of -the church, deprived the retainers of the great baron, and the sharers -of the dole of the monastery, of their accustomed mode of living; and -robbery in these classes was considered the most venial of offences. -To the system of poor laws,--a system worthy of being projected "in -great Eliza's golden time" by the greatest philosopher of that day, -or, with one exception, of any other day,--are we indebted for that -general respect for property which renders the profession of a thief -infamous, and consigns him to the hulks, or the tread-mill, without -compassion. But I must not wander into historical disquisitions; though -no subject would, in its proper place, be more interesting than a minute -speculation upon the gradual working of the poor-law system on English -society. It would form one of the most remarkable chapters in that great -work yet to be written, "The History of the _Lowest_ Order from the -earliest times,"--a work of far more importance, of deeper philosophy, -and more picturesque romance, than all the chronicles of what are called -the great events of the earth. Elsewhere let me talk of this. I must now -get back again to Falstaff. - -"_Fal._ Now Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad? How is that -answered? - -_P. Hen._ My sweet beef, I must Still be good angel to thee. The money -is paid back. - -_Fal._ I do not like That paying back; it is a double labour. - -_P. Hen._ I am good friends with my father, and may do anything. - -_Fal._ Rob me the exchequer, the first thing thou dost; And do't with -unwashed hands too. - -_Bard._ Do, my lord." - -The quiet and business-like manner in which Bardolph enforces on the -heir-apparent his master's reasonable proposition of robbing the -exchequer, is worthy of that plain and straightforward character. I -have always considered it a greater hardship that Bardolph should be -hanged "for pix of little price" by an old companion at Gadshill, than -that Falstaff should have been banished. But Shakspeare wanted to get -rid of the party; and as, in fact, a soldier was hanged in the army of -Henry V. for such a theft, the opportunity was afforded. The king is not -concerned in the order for his execution however, which is left with the -Duke of Exeter. - -I have omitted a word or two from the ordinary editions in the above -quotation, which are useless to the sense and spoil the metre. A careful -consideration of Falstaff's speeches will show that, though they are -sometimes printed as prose, they are in almost all cases metrical. -Indeed, I do not think that there is much prose in any of Shakspeare's -plays. - -His Gadshill adventure was a jest,--a jest, perhaps, repeated after too -many precedents; but still, according to the fashion and the humour of -the time, nothing more than a jest. His own view of such transactions is -recorded; he considers Shallow as a fund of jesting to amuse the prince, -remarking that it is easy to amuse "with a sad brow" (with a solemnity -of appearance) "a fellow that never had the ache in his shoulders." What -was to be accomplished by turning the foolish justice into ridicule, -was also to be done by inducing the true prince to become for a moment -a false thief. The serious face of robbery was assumed "to keep Prince -Harry in perpetual laughter." That, in Falstaff's circumstances, the -money obtained by the night's exploit would be highly acceptable, cannot -be doubted; but the real object was to amuse the prince. He had no idea -of making an exhibition of bravery on such an occasion; Poins well knew -his man when he said beforehand, "As for the third, if he fight longer -than he see reason, I'll forswear arms:" his end was as much obtained -by the prince's jokes upon his cowardice. It was no matter whether -he invented what tended to laughter, or whether it was invented upon -him. The object was won so the laughter was in any manner excited. The -exaggerated tale of the misbegotten knaves in Kendal-green, and his -other lies, gross and mountainous, are told with no other purpose; and -one is almost tempted to believe him when he says that he knew who were -his assailants, and ran for their greater amusement. At all events, it -is evident that he cares nothing on the subject. He offers a jocular -defence; but immediately passes to matter of more importance then the -question of his standing or running: - - But, lads, I'm glad you have the money. Hostess! - Clap to the doors; watch to-night, pray to-morrow. - Gallants, lads, boys, hearts-o'-gold! All the titles of - Good fellowship come to you!"[94] - -The money is had; the means of enjoying it are at hand. Why waste our -time in inquiring how it has been brought here, or permit nonsensical -discussions on my valour or cowardice to delay for a moment the jovial -appearance of the bottle? - -I see no traces of his being a glutton. His roundness of paunch is no -proof of gormandising propensities; in fact, the greatest eaters are -generally thin and spare. When Henry is running over the bead-roll of -his vices, we meet no charge of gluttony urged against him. - - "There is a devil - Haunts thee i' the likeness of a fat old man; - A ton of man is thy companion. - Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, - That bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swoln parcel of - Dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed - Cloakbag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox - With the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, - That grey iniquity, that father ruffian, - That vanity in years? Wherein is he good - But to taste sack, and drink it? Wherein neat - And cleanly, but to carve a capon, and eat it?"[95] - -The sack and sugar Falstaff admits readily; of addiction to the grosser -pleasures of the table neither he nor his accuser says a word. Capon -is light eating; and his neatness in carving gives an impression of -delicacy in the observances of the board. He appears to have been -fond of capon; for it figures in the tavern-bill found in his pockets -as the only eatable beside the stimulant anchovy for supper, and the -halfpenny-worth of bread. Nor does his conversation ever turn upon -gastronomical topics. The bottle supplies an endless succession of -jests; the dish scarcely contributes one. - -We must observe that Falstaff is never represented as drunk, or even -affected by wine. The copious potations of sack do not cloud his -intellect, or embarrass his tongue. He is always self-possessed, and -ready to pour forth his floods of acute wit. In this he forms a contrast -to Sir Toby Belch. The discrimination between these two characters is -very masterly. Both are knights, both convivial, both fond of loose or -jocular society, both somewhat in advance of their youth--there are -many outward points of similitude, and yet they are as distinct as -Prospero and Polonius. The Illyrian knight is of a lower class of mind. -His jests are mischievous; Falstaff never commits a practical joke. Sir -Toby delights in brawling and tumult; Sir John prefers the ease of his -own inn. Sir Toby sings songs, joins in catches, and rejoices in making -a noise; Sir John knows too well his powers of wit and conversation -to think it necessary to make any display, and he hates disturbance. -Sir Toby is easily affected by liquor and roystering; Sir John rises -from the board as cool as when he sate down. The knight of Illyria -had nothing to cloud his mind; he never aspired to higher things than -he has attained; he lives a jolly life in the household of his niece, -feasting, drinking, singing, rioting, playing tricks from one end of -the year to the other: his wishes are gratified, his hopes unblighted. -I have endeavoured to show that Falstaff was the contrary of all this. -And we must remark that the tumultuous Toby has some dash of romance -in him, of which no trace can be found in the English knight. The wit -and grace, the good-humour and good looks of Maria, conquer Toby's -heart, and he is in love with her--love expressed in rough fashion, but -love sincere. Could we see him some dozen years after his marriage, -we should find him sobered down into a respectable, hospitable, and -domestic country gentleman, surrounded by a happy family of curly-headed -Illyrians, and much fonder of his wife than of his bottle. We can never -so consider of Falstaff; he must always be a dweller in clubs and -taverns, a perpetual diner-out at gentlemen's parties, or a frequenter -of haunts where he will not be disturbed by the presence of ladies of -condition or character. In the "Merry Wives of Windsor,"--I may remark, -in passing, that the Falstaff of that play is a different conception -from the Falstaff of Henry IV, and an inferior one,--his love is of a -very practical and unromantic nature. The ladies whom he addresses are -beyond a certain age; and his passion is inspired by his hopes of making -them his East and West Indies,--by their tables and their purses. No; -Falstaff never could have married,--he was better "accommodated than -with a wife." He might have paid his court to old Mistress Ursula, and -sworn to marry her weekly from the time when he perceived the first -white hair on his chin; but the oath was never kept, and we see what was -the motive of his love, when we find him sending her a letter by his -page after he has been refused credit by Master Dombledon, unless he can -offer something better than the rather unmarketable security of himself -and Bardolph. - -We must also observe that he never laughs. Others laugh with him, or at -him; but no laughter from him who occasions or permits it. He jests with -a sad brow. The wit which he profusely scatters about is from the head, -not the heart. Its satire is slight, and never malignant or affronting; -but still it is satirical, and seldom joyous. It is anything but _fun_. -Original genius and long practice have rendered it easy and familiar to -him, and he uses it as a matter of business. He has too much philosophy -to show that he feels himself misplaced; we discover his feelings by -slight indications, which are, however, quite sufficient. I fear that -this conception of the character could never be rendered popular on -the stage; but I have heard in private the part of Falstaff read with -a perfectly grave, solemn, slow, deep, and sonorous voice, touched -occasionally somewhat with the broken tone of age, from beginning to -end, with admirable effect. But I can imagine him painted according to -my idea. He is always caricatured. Not to refer to ordinary drawings, -I remember one executed by the reverend and very clever author of the -"Miseries of Human Life," (an engraving of which, if I do not mistake, -used to hang in Ambrose's parlour in Edinburgh, in the actual room -which was the primary seat of the "Noctes Ambrosianæ,") and the painter -had exerted all his art in making the face seamed with the deep-drawn -wrinkles and lines of a hard drinker and a constant laugher. Now, had -jolly Bacchus - - "Set the trace in his face that a toper will tell," - -should we not have it carefully noted by those who everlastingly joked -upon his appearance? should we not have found his Malmsey nose, his -whelks and bubukles, his exhalations and meteors, as duly described as -those of Bardolph? A laughing countenance he certainly had not. Jests -such as his are not, like Ralph's, "lost, unless you print the face." -The leering wink in the eye introduced into this portraiture is also -wrong, if intended to represent the habitual look of the man. The chief -justice assures us that his eyes were moist like those of other men -of his time of life; and, without his lordship's assurance, we may be -certain that Falstaff seldom played tricks with them. He rises before me -as an elderly and very corpulent gentleman, dressed like other military -men of the time, [of Elizabeth, observe, not Henry,] yellow-cheeked, -white-bearded, double-chinned, with a good-humoured but grave expression -of countenance, sensuality in the lower features of his face, high -intellect in the upper. - -Such is the idea I have formed of Falstaff and perhaps some may think -I am right. It required no ordinary genius to carry such a character -through so great a variety of incidents with so perfect a consistency. -It is not a difficult thing to depict a man corroded by care within, -yet appearing gay and at ease without, if you every moment pull the -machinery to pieces, as children do their toys, to show what is inside. -But the true art is to let the attendant circumstances bespeak the -character, without being obliged to label him: "_Here you may see the -tyrant_;" or, "_Here is the man heavy of heart, light of manner_." Your -ever-melancholy and ostentatiously broken-hearted heroes are felt to be -bores, endurable only on account of the occasional beauty of the poetry -in which they figure. We grow tired of "the gloom the fabled Hebrew -wanderer wore," &c. and sympathise as little with perpetual lamentations -over mental sufferings endured, or said to be endured, by active youth -and manhood, as we should be with its ceaseless complaints of the -physical pain of corns or toothache. The death-bed of Falstaff, told in -the _patois_ of Dame Quickly to her debauched and profligate auditory, -is a thousand times more pathetic to those who have looked upon the -world with reflective eye, than all the morbid mournings of Childe -Harold and his poetical progeny. - -At the table of Shallow, laid in his arbour, Falstaff is compelled by -the eager hospitality of his host to sit, much against his will. The wit -of the court endures the tipsy garrulity of the prattling justice, the -drunken harmonies of Silence, whose tongue is loosed by the sack to -chaunt but-ends of old-fashioned ballads, the bustling awkwardness of -Davy, and the long-known ale-house style of conversation of Bardolph, -without uttering a word except some few phrases of common-place -courtesy. He feels that he is in mind and thought far above his company. -Was that the only company in which the same accident had befallen him? -Certainly not; it had befallen him in many a mansion more honoured -than that of Shallow, and amid society loftier in name and prouder -in place. His talent, and the use to which he had turned it, had as -completely disjoined him in heart from those among whom he mixed, or -might have mixed, as it did from the pippin-and-caraway-eating party -in Gloucestershire. The members of his court are about him, but not of -him; they are all intended for use. From Shallow he borrows a thousand -pounds; and, as the justice cannot appreciate his wit, he wastes it not -upon him, but uses other methods of ingratiating himself. Henry delights -in his conversation and manner, and therefore all his fascinations are -exerted to win the favour of one from whom so many advantages might -be expected. He lives in the world alone and apart, so far as true -community of thought with others is concerned; and his main business in -life is to get through the day. That--the day--is his real enemy; he -rises to fight it in the morning; he gets through its various dangers -as well as he can; some difficulties he meets, some he avoids; he shuns -those who ask him for money, seeks those from whom he may obtain it; -lounges here, bustles there; talks, drinks, jokes, schemes; and at -last his foe is slain, when light and its troubles depart. "The day is -gone--the night's our own." Courageously has he put an end to one of the -three hundred and sixty-five tormentors which he has yearly to endure; -and to-morrow--why--as was to-day, so to-morrow shall be. At all events -I shall not leave the sweet of the night unpicked, to think anything -more about it. Bring me a cup of sack! Let us be merry! Does he ever -think of what were his hopes and prospects at the time, when was - - "Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy, - And page to Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk?" - -Perhaps!----but he chases away the intrusive reflection by another cup -of sack and a fresh sally of humour. - -Dryden maintained that Shakspeare killed Mercutio, because, if he had -not, Mercutio would have killed him. In spite of the authority of - - "All those prefaces of Dryden, - For these our critics much confide in," - -Glorious John is here mistaken. Mercutio is killed precisely in the part -of the drama where his death is requisite. Not an incident, scarcely a -sentence, in this most skilfully managed play of Romeo and Juliet, can -be omitted or misplaced. But I do think that Shakspeare was unwilling to -hazard the reputation of Falstaff by producing him again in connexion -with his old companion, Hal, on the stage. The dancer in the epilogue -of the Second Part of Henry IV. promises the audience, that "if you be -not too much cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will continue the -story, with Sir John in it, and make you merry with fair Katharine of -France; where, for any thing I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, -unless already he be killed with your hard opinions."[96] The audience -was not cloyed with fat meat, Sir John was not killed with their hard -opinions; he was popular from the first hour of his appearance: but -Shakspeare never kept his word. It was the dramatist, not the public, -who killed his hero in the opening scenes of Henry V; for he knew not -how to interlace him with the story of Agincourt. There Henry was to be -lord of all; and it was matter of necessity that his old master should -disappear from the scene. He parted therefore even just between twelve -and one, e'en at turning of the tide, and we shall never see him again -until the waters of some Avon, here or elsewhere,--it is a good Celtic -name for rivers in general,--shall once more bathe the limbs of the -like of him who was laid for his last earthly sleep under a gravestone -bearing a disregarded inscription, on the north side of the chancel in -the great church at Stratford. - W. M. -[92] He is once called so by Westmoreland, - Second Part of Henry IV. Act iv. Sc. 1. - -[93] Henry IV. Part 1. Act iii. Sc. 3. - -[94] These passages also are printed as prose: I have not altered a - single letter, and the reader will see not only that they are - dramatical blank-verse, but dramatical blank-verse of a very - excellent kind. After all the editions of Shakspeare, another - is sadly wanted. The text throughout requires a searching - critical revision. - -[95] See Footnote 94 above. - -[96] I consider this epilogue to be in blank-verse,-- - - "First my fear, then my courtesy, then my speech," &c. - - but some slight alterations should be made: the transposition of a - couple of words will make the passage here quoted metrical. - - "One word more I beseech you. If you be not Too much cloyed with fat - meat, our humble author _The story will continue_ with Sir John in't, - And make you merry with fair _Kate_ of France. Where (For any thing I - know) Falstaff shall die of A sweat, unless already he be killed with - Your hard opinions; Oldcastle died a martyr, And this is not the man. - My tongue is weary, when my legs are too, I'll bid you good-night; and - kneel down before you, But indeed to pray for the queen." - - - - - EPIGRAM - - 'Twas thought that all who dined on hare, - For seven days after, grew most fair: - Fanny, it seems, this tale believed, - When I from her a hare received: - But if the tale be true, odsfish! - Fanny has never tried the dish. - - - - - A STEAM TRIP TO HAMBURG. - -The world is about equally divided into two parts; viz. the first and -most unfortunate part, who have made trips by steam; and the other, -whose ill-luck is to come, and who have not yet been subject to the -"vapours." Both of these divisions of society will be equally interested -in my narration; one will see a faithful delineation of what they have -already suffered, and the other will be enabled clearly to apprehend -what, when their time comes, they will have to undergo. Not that I wish -to deter anybody from such undertakings, inasmuch as there will be a -degree of naval heroism in anybody who ventures his person after he has -become fully aware of his necessary calamities. I need not say that this -will give him a high station in society, and that, if he announces in a -tolerably loud voice at a dinner-table that he has made a long trip by -steam, more than one eye-glass will be devoted to a survey of him. This -is no mean advantage, and not to be lightly lost. - -Before I state what happened to me in particular, I just wish to say -half-a-dozen words about the sea in general. The sea has been described -by a great natural historian as - - "The sea! the sea! - The bright and open sea!" - -Now, I differ from this description altogether. The sea is undoubtedly -"_the_ sea,"--there's no denying that; but that it at all comes up -to the jaunty _débonnaire_ character indicated by the rest of the -description, I absolutely traverse. In my mind it is a boisterous -"dissolute companion," whose bad example corrupts the most respectable -characters. Only see how our gentlemanlike, quiet old friend, Father -Thames, forgets himself when he falls into bad company. Gentlemen from -Shad Thames and the Barbican, who have been to Margate, know very well -what his conduct is. Instead of moving quietly along, as he has done all -the way from Lechlade in Gloucestershire, no sooner does he get within -hearing of the noise his bad acquaintance is making, than it seems as if -Old Nick possessed him. He begins splashing, and dashing, and foaming -about, just as if he had never seen a weeping willow or the Monument in -his life; and exchanges his white-bait for porpoises, and his stately -swans for cantankerous sea-gulls, whose pleasure seems to increase in -proportion to the tumult. And, not contented with his own misconduct, he -involves all the gentle company he has brought with him in the common -disorder: there is the Loddon tossing about as if it had been a cataract -all its life; the Mole seems to forget all about Mickleham Valley, and -how quietly it has been accustomed to behave there; and the Kennet -and Avon, which have come all the way from the Wiltshire Downs, where -they were born in stillness among the Druids, take just as much upon -them, and are as noisy, as if they had derived their parentage from a -well-frequented metropolitan pump. No more need be said to prove the -audacious character of this "agitator," whose inflammatory conduct makes -everybody that comes in contact with him, as bad as himself. I should -not have said so much about it, but I want to put down the sea, which, -owing to gross misstatements and vile flattery, has acquired a credit -and notoriety which it does not deserve; and this ought to be stopped, -as it misleads people. - -Having made up my mind to go to Hamburg, I bade adieu to my fond -friends; and, having settled my London affairs, I prepared to go, and -went. - -At twelve P.M. on the night of Tuesday, August 13, 1836, it was my -unhappy lot to emerge from hackney-coach No. 369, the number of which I -had taken, knowing the state of my mind, for the better preservation of -my valuables; fearing that, in my dread of approaching evils, I might -forget either my valued trunk or my respected hat-box. Having emerged, -my next act was, to ejaculate in as sonorous a voice as my flabby -energies permitted, "Boat a-hoy!" - -This cry brought to me a waterman of an "ancient and fish-like" -appearance, who, for the filthy lucre of gain, agreed to transport my -person and packages on board the Steam Navigation Company's steam ship, -Britannia, carrying his majesty's mails, "warranted to perform the -journey in fifty hours;" with a steward on board, and numerous other -enticing particulars duly set forth in the bill of her performances. For -all these advantages, the Steam Navigation Company expected no greater -return than five pounds lawful money of Great Britain,--an expectation -which I satisfied to the proper extent, and considered myself very -fortunate. - -Probably feeling much embarrassed by my gratitude on this occasion, -I must have betrayed some little passing emotion on ascending the -side of the vessel; as the naval person who offered me his hand as an -assistance, took occasion to observe, "Never mind, sir; you'll soon -be all right." Scarcely feeling entire confidence in this gentleman's -statement, I entered the "splendid saloon," on the tables of which -were the remains of certain spirituous liquors; faint and distant -traces of which, ascending from below, enabled me to attribute their -consumption to the various gentlemen there deposited, who were to be my -fellow-passengers. "Below" is a very nasty, unpleasant, underground word -of itself; but when it is coupled with the vile concomitants which a sea -"below" embraces, it is still more distasteful. - -Diving down the stairs with the sad impression that I had taken my -last farewell of the upper world, I found my way to No. 14, which was -the number of the "berth" in which I was to bestow, and did bestow -accordingly, myself and luggage. - -Before getting into bed, I thought I would see who and what the victims -were, who were to be offered up on a common altar with myself. - -I could, however, see nobody, as the curtains were all closed; and, -therefore, trusting to the chance of finding somebody awake, I hazarded -the general inquiry of "I beg your pardon, sir; did you speak?" There -was, however, no reply; but certain of them snored lustily, and one, -more portly than his fellows, puffed withal as though he were a grampus. -Feeling I had made a vain attempt at opening a communication with my -neighbours, I was obliged to undress myself, and get into bed with the -unsatisfactory feeling that I might be drowned in company with twelve or -fourteen individuals without even knowing their names. - -And here allow me to observe that different people appear to have taken -various views of the meaning of the term "bed," taken as a simple term. -One gentleman apprehends it to mean a four-posted, ample convenience, -provided with downy cushions and suitable appurtenances, wherein he may -roll himself about, at pleasure, and enjoy all recumbent attitudes with -freedom. Another, with less luxurious views, erects a dormitory with a -circular roof, of smaller size, and less accommodations and comforts; -and this, under the Christian name of "tent," is his "bed." There are -also other sorts of beds, each differing from the others in comfort and -appearance, in various degrees. - -Most of these are extremely consistent with the personal comfort of -the individual adopting them; but the "bed-maker" of the crib which -I now occupied, had departed widely from all these well-approved and -convenient plans, and conceived the comforts of a bed to consist in -the following items:--one narrow, short trough of deal or oak plank, -as may be; one mattress of half the same size, stuffed tightly with an -unelastic, unyielding substance called "flock;" one oblong pillow of -the same material and consistency; two blankets rather shorter than the -mattress; two sheets rather shorter than the blankets; one counterpane -rather shorter than the sheets; each declining in a sort of gradual -progression, so that, if there had been fifty of them the last would -have ended in a piece of tape, or a penny riband. - -Making myself into as small, and the clothes into as large a heap as I -could, just as one does with one's foot in a tight boot, I tranquilly -awaited our departure, which was announced as punctually at two A.M. - -I must do them the justice to say that there never was an execution -conducted more punctually to the moment for which it had been promised. -As the clock struck two, a clanking of chains, which sounded just as if -they were knocking off my fetters in another prison for the last time, -and a continued shouting and tramping overhead, announced that they -were weighing "the anchor." If it were half as heavy as my heart, how -it must have fatigued them! We could hear--or rather I could hear (for -it did not seem to wake the snorers or him who puffed)--all the din and -hallooing above, just as well as if we had been on deck. Somebody kept -swearing at somebody else, which somebody else seemed to take in very -bad part, as I heard him say, "I arn't a going to put up with no gammon -from a feller like you, as doesn't know an umbreller from a spring -ini'n." - -I didn't exactly believe that there could be anybody in these -march-of-intellect days, incapable of distinguishing an umbrella from a -spring onion, and therefore I felt this to be most unjustifiable abuse, -whomsoever it was addressed to; but it was no business of mine, and I -didn't care how much they abused each other, if they had only done it in -a lower tone of voice, so as not to disturb me. - -When the "tumult dwindled to a calm," a splash and a hiss, accompanied -by the moving of the vessel, gave me intelligence that we were "off." As -we dropped down the river, memory recalled the peaceful recreation of -dining at Blackwall on white-bait; while certain matters which occurred -at a Greenwich fair, stared me accusingly in the face. - -Amid these reflections I fell into an uneasy slumber, which lasted till -six, broken at intervals by various thumps on the deck, which seemed -directed immediately at my head below. In the morning "the pie was -opened, and the birds began to sing;" that is to say, my companions -began to draw their dingy little curtains back, and gradually to unfold -themselves. I found we consisted of fourteen souls and bodies,--ten -Germans, and four of the same free and enlightened nation of which I -have the honour to be a component part. - -We chatted till about seven; and then one got up, and another got up, -and, lastly, I myself got up and dressed; not, however, without a -feeling that I had better have left well alone. When I got up on deck, I -asked a sailor, "How's the wind?"--"Dead agin yer," was the satisfactory -reply. I wasn't surprised. - -While I dressed, I paid due attention to a request posted up over the -washing-stands, "That gentlemen should refrain from throwing their -shaving-paper into their basins, as it stopped up the pipes, and -_increased_ the smell of the cabins." This of itself seemed a tacit -acknowledgement of the existence of a very agreeable concomitant to our -comforts,--as you can hardly _increase_ a thing which did not previously -exist; indeed there was no doubt about that, without any notice. - -When we had all got up stairs by different instalments, after pacing -the decks a little, we received a summons to breakfast. I endeavoured -to sham an appetite, but it was no go; so I ate sparingly, being most -distrustful of the future. - -"Waiter!" cried one of the English,--a short, stout gentleman, in a -dressing-gown,--"bring up the parcel in front of my berth." - -"Sart'nly, sir!" replied the smart handman. - -Up came the parcel; and, as I had heard the demand, I had the curiosity -to see what came of it. The parcel turned out to be a nice brown-bread -loaf, off which the owner cut a small slice, and carefully put it on a -plate by his side. His neighbour on the other side then began talking to -him, which diverted his attention from the loaf. His other neighbour, -who had not seen where it came from, wanting some bread, and finding it -at his elbow, helped himself; and a man, a little lower down, said, - -"May I trouble you for the bread?" - -"With pleasure, sir;" and another slice went, and so on, till the last -remnant came round to the man who sat opposite the rightful owner, who -was talking away still, with his friend, as if they had been settling -the tithe question. He took the bit left, and began devouring it; and a -pause having taken place in the conversation opposite, he said to the -loaf-proprietor, - -"For myself, I like brown bread just as well as white; what do you say?" - -"Why, _I_ prefer it; and, not knowing that we should get it on board, I -took the precaution of bringing a loaf with me, big enough to last me -all the----" - -As he spoke, he turned to illustrate his remark by showing the size of -his loaf, when, to his dismay, he found nothing but the empty plate. -I never shall forget his face. He first of all turned to the man who -had addressed him, and into whose capacious mouth the last morsel was -vanishing: - -"Confound it, sir! that's my bread you're eating!" - -Then to his next neighbour on his right: - -"Was it you who took my loaf, sir?" - -"Your loaf, sir? Who are you?" - -"Yes, sir! I repeat, my loaf; my brown loaf." - -"I certainly took a loaf, sir, and a brown loaf, which stood next to me; -but whether it was yours or not I can't say; and I believe everybody -else took it too!" - -"Why, then it's gone!" It was. - -Breakfast being over, we had but little to do, and nothing to divert our -thoughts from our mournful position. I went fidgeting about, asking how -the weather was. The answers were delightful. The wind was so violent -and adverse that the captain thought it useless to go out to sea, and -therefore intended to "bring up"--ominous term!--in Owesly Bay, near -Harwich. The rain drove me into the "splendid saloon," which I would -have bartered for a cellar in Fetterlane; and, after half an hour's -doubt and wonder whether I was going round the world, or the world round -me, I felt it not only prudent, but necessary, to seek greater privacy; -and, after much sorrow and tempest of spirit, I got into my comfortable -bed. - -The captain was as good, or rather as bad, as his word. He "brought up" -in Owesly Bay, and I will say no more than that the force of example was -astonishing. How long we waited about in that sad bay, I cannot exactly -say, as I had become insensible to the nice distinction between tossing -up and down, and pitching and rolling at anchor, or going on. It was -enough, and too much for me, that we _did_ toss up and down, and pitch -and roll. - -So ended Wednesday the 14th. We were intended to arrive at Hamburg at -two o'clock on Friday morning; but the adverse wind, and bringing up, -seemed to throw a doubt over this. - -Still it was not impossible, if the wind abated. Thursday morning was -ushered in by numerous inquiries as to where we were. We were more than -gratified by being told "Much where we were last night." This was told -to me, who felt that I had signed a lease for my life, extending only to -Friday, at two A.M., as the longest possible time I could hold out; and -that after that time the lease would be up, and I should be ejected from -my mortal tenement. - -The Germans who were on board ate and drank heartily, and wanted me -to get up and shave. I thought that the chance of being drowned was -enough, without the certainty of cutting my throat from ear to ear, -which I should inevitably have done if I had attempted to use a razor in -the state of the vessel's movements. They endeavoured to get me up, by -touching my national pride. - -"What! an Englishman afraid?" said they. - -"No," answered I; "but very sick." - -Thursday heard many groans, and, if it had eyes, might have seen many -strange sights. - -Friday morning, two A.M.--the promised period of our arrival at the -haven of our hopes--found us still wide at sea; and it was not till -Friday evening that we heard the news that we were off the mouth of the -Texel, one hundred miles from the Elbe, which was our destination. We -were then in that sort of reckless state that we regarded distance as -nothing,--one hundred miles seemed to me, much the same as one thousand; -and I opened and shut my mouth in the agonies of despair, and something -worse. - -All this time I had continued in bed, eating what they brought me, not -from any relish or appetite, but on the principle that if you are in -a den with a roaring lion, and have a leg of mutton to give him, it is -prudent to do so; and there was in my den with me an intolerant and -savage spirit, which treated me exceedingly ill when I gave it nothing -to wreak its fury upon, and showed but little gratitude when I did, -either declining the proffered gifts, or only receiving them to render -me more dejected by a speedy and contemptuous return. - -Saturday morning early, we heard, with as much joy, and with as much -interest as we could feel in anything, that we should soon be in the -Elbe, and in tolerably smooth water. What ideas these sailors have of -smooth water! I wonder if they ever look in a washing-basin? - -As I lay waiting for the smooth water, I could not help anathematising -those deceitful vagabonds, the poets, who write very pretty and pleasing -lines about a tender affair they call a zephyr, and describe it as -"softly sighing on a summer's eve," "lightly dancing on the moonlit -lake," "mildly breaking over the bending corn," and a variety of -agreeable and amiable habits. But these worthy gentlemen, who write in -a comfortable arm-chair, little know the change which takes place in -their sighing friend when a dozen or two of them club together to make a -gale of wind for an afternoon's amusement. I wish I had had a score of -these same poets on board,--the world would never have heard anything -from them again about "bending corn!" A zephyr bears about the some -proportion to a gale of wind as a Vauxhall slice of ham does to the -"whole hog." However, all evils have an end, and ours began to conclude -a little; for certainly I seemed to get a little better, and was well -enough when we passed Heligoland--which is an island in the possession -of his most gracious majesty, whom Heaven long preserve!--to sing -lustily, and like a true Briton as I am, - - "Send him victorious, - Happy and glorious, - Long to reign over us, - God save the king!" - -I then dressed myself, the water being still too rough to allow me to -do anything but cut my throat with my razor; and went on deck, where I -soon afterwards enjoyed the sight of green fields, and the villas which -ornament the banks of the Elbe, with a most satisfactory view of Hamburg -at no great distance. - -And, now that I have brought myself to dry land, do I make a vow never -again to make a long sea-voyage,--always excepting "leaving my country -for my country's good," which may happen; but the Britannia, if she -chooses "to rule the waves," never shall have me as an accomplice again, -though - - "The bark be stoutly timber'd, and the pilot - Of very perfect and approv'd allowance." - - - - - STRAY CHAPTERS. - BY "BOZ." - - - CHAPTER II. - SOME PARTICULARS CONCERNING A LION. - -We have a great respect for lions in the abstract. In common with -most other people, we have heard and read of many instances of their -bravery and generosity. We have duly admired that heroic self-denial and -charming philanthropy, which prompts them never to eat people except -when they are hungry, and we have been deeply impressed with a becoming -sense of the politeness they are said to display towards unmarried -ladies of a certain state. All natural histories teem with anecdotes -illustrative of their excellent qualities; and one old spelling-book in -particular recounts a touching instance of an old lion of high moral -dignity and stern principle, who felt it his imperative duty to devour a -young man who had contracted a habit of swearing, as a striking example -to the rising generation. - -All this is extremely pleasant to reflect upon, and indeed says a very -great deal in favour of lions as a mass. We are bound to state, however, -that such individual lions as we have happened to fall in with, have not -put forth any very striking characteristics, and have not acted up to -the chivalrous character assigned them by their chroniclers. We never -saw a lion in what is called his natural state, certainly; that is to -say, we have never met a lion out walking in a forest, or crouching in -his lair under a tropical sun waiting till his dinner should happen to -come by, hot from the baker's. But we have seen some under the influence -of captivity and the pressure of misfortune; and we must say that they -appeared to us very apathetic, heavy-headed fellows. - -The lion at the Zoological Gardens, for instance. He is all very well; -he has an undeniable mane, and looks very fierce; but, Lord bless us! -what of that? The lions of the fashionable world look just as ferocious, -and are the most harmless creatures breathing. A box-lobby lion or -a Regent-street animal will put on a most terrible aspect, and roar -fearfully, if you affront him; but he will never bite, and, if you offer -to attack him manfully, will fairly turn tail and sneak off. Doubtless -these creatures roam about sometimes in herds, and, if they meet any -especially meek-looking and peaceably-disposed fellow, will endeavour -to frighten him; but the faintest show of a vigorous resistance is -sufficient to scare them even then. These are pleasant characteristics, -whereas we make it matter of distinct charge against the Zoological lion -and his brethren at the fairs, that they are sleepy, dreamy, sluggish -quadrupeds. - -We do not remember to have ever seen one of them perfectly awake, except -at feeding-time. In every respect we uphold the biped lions against -their four-footed namesakes, and we boldly challenge controversy upon -the subject. - -With these opinions it may be easily imagined that our curiosity and -interest were very much excited the other day, when a lady of our -acquaintance called on us and resolutely declined to accept our refusal -of her invitation to an evening party; "for," said she, "I have got a -lion coming." We at once retracted our plea of a prior engagement, and -became as anxious to go, as we had previously been to stay away. - -We went early and posted ourself in an eligible part of the -drawing-room, from whence we could hope to obtain a full view of the -interesting animal. Two or three hours passed, the quadrilles began, -the room filled; but no lion appeared. The lady of the house became -inconsolable,--for it is one of the peculiar privileges of these lions -to make solemn appointments and never keep them,--when all of a sudden -there came a tremendous double rap at the street-door, and the master -of the house, after gliding out (unobserved as he flattered himself) to -peep over the banisters, came into the room, rubbing his hands together -with great glee, and cried out in a very important voice, "My dear, -Mr. ---- (naming the lion) has this moment arrived." - -Upon this, all eyes were turned towards the door, and we observed -several young ladies, who had been laughing and conversing previously -with great gaiety and good-humour, grow extremely quiet and sentimental; -while some young gentlemen, who had been cutting great figures in -the facetious and smalltalk way, suddenly sank very obviously in the -estimation of the company, and were looked upon with great coldness -and indifference. Even the young man who had been ordered from the -music-shop to play the pianoforte, was visibly affected, and struck -several false notes in the excess of his excitement. - -All this time there was a great talking outside, more than once -accompanied by a loud laugh, and a cry of "Oh, capital! excellent!" -from which we inferred that the lion was jocose, and that these -exclamations were occasioned by the transports of his keeper and our -host. Nor were we deceived; for when the lion at last appeared, we -overheard his keeper, who was a little prim man, whisper to several -gentlemen of his acquaintance, with uplifted hands and every expression -of half-suppressed admiration, that ---- (naming the lion again) was in -_such_ cue to-night! - -The lion was a literary one: of course there were a vast number of -people present, who had admired his roarings, and were anxious to be -introduced to him; and very pleasant it was to see them brought up for -the purpose, and to observe the patient dignity with which he received -all their patting and caressing. This brought forcibly to our mind what -we had so often witnessed at country fairs, where the other lions are -compelled to go through as many forms of courtesy as they chance to be -acquainted with, just as often as admiring parties happen to drop in -upon them. - -While the lion was exhibiting in this way, his keeper was not idle, for -he mingled among the crowd, and spread his praises most industriously. -To one gentleman he whispered some very choice thing that the noble -animal had said in the very act of coming up stairs, which, of course, -rendered the mental effort still more astonishing; to another he -murmured a hasty account of a grand dinner that had taken place the -day before, where twenty-seven gentlemen had got up all at once to -demand an extra cheer for the lion; and to the ladies he made sundry -promises of interceding to procure the majestic brute's sign-manual -for their albums. Then, there were little private consultations in -different corners, relative to the personal appearance and stature of -the lion; whether he was shorter than they had expected to see him, or -taller, or thinner, or fatter, or younger, or older; whether he was -like his portrait or unlike it; and whether the particular shade of his -eyes was black, or blue, or hazel, or green, or yellow, or mixture. -At all these consultations the keeper assisted; and, in short, the -lion was the sole and single subject of discussion till they sat him -down to whist, and then the people relapsed into their old topics of -conversation--themselves and each other. - -We must confess that we looked forward with no slight impatience to -the announcement of supper; for if you wish to see a tame lion under -particularly favourable circumstances, feeding-time is the period of all -others to pitch upon. We were therefore very much delighted to observe -a sensation among the guests, which we well knew how to interpret, -and immediately afterwards to behold the lion escorting the lady of -the house down stairs. We offered our arm to an elderly female of our -acquaintance, who--dear old soul!--is the very best person that ever -lived, to lead down to any meal; for, be the room ever so small or the -party ever so large, she is sure, by some intuitive perception of the -eligible, to push and pull herself and conductor close to the best -dishes on the table;--we say we offered our arm to this elderly female, -and, descending the stairs shortly after the lion, were fortunate enough -to obtain a seat nearly opposite him. - -Of course the keeper was there already. He had planted himself at -precisely that distance from his charge which afforded him a decent -pretext for raising his voice, when he addressed him, to so loud a key -as could not fail to attract the attention of the whole company, and -immediately began to apply himself seriously to the task of bringing the -lion out, and putting him through the whole of his manoeuvres. Such -flashes of wit as he elicited from the lion! First of all they began -to make puns upon a salt-cellar, and then upon the breast of a fowl, -and then upon the trifle; but the best jokes of all were decidedly on -the lobster-salad, upon which latter subject the lion came out most -vigorously, and, in the opinion of the most competent authorities, -quite outshone himself. This is a very excellent mode of shining in -society, and is founded, we humbly conceive, upon the classic model of -the dialogues between Mr. Punch and his friend the proprietor, wherein -the latter takes all the up-hill work, and is content to pioneer to the -jokes and repartees of Mr. P. himself, who never fails to gain great -credit and excite much laughter thereby. Whatever it be founded on, -however, we recommend it to all lions, present and to come; for in this -instance it succeeded to admiration, and perfectly dazzled the whole -body of hearers. - -When the salt-cellar, and the fowl's breast, and the trifle, and the -lobster-salad were all exhausted, and could not afford standing-room for -another solitary witticism, the keeper performed that very dangerous -feat which is still done with some of the caravan lions, although in -one instance it terminated fatally, of putting his head in the animal's -mouth, and placing himself entirely at its mercy. Boswell frequently -presents a melancholy instance of the lamentable results of this -achievement, and other keepers and jackals have been terribly lacerated -for their daring. It is due to our lion to state, that he condescended -to be trifled with, in the most gentle manner, and finally went home -with the showman in a hack cab: perfectly peaceable, but slightly -fuddled. - -Being in a contemplative mood, we were led to make some reflections upon -the character and conduct of this genus of lions as we walked homewards, -and we were not long in arriving at the conclusion that our former -impression in their favour was very much strengthened and confirmed by -what we had recently seen. While the other lions receive company and -compliments in a sullen, moody, not to say snarling manner, these appear -flattered by the attentions that are paid them; while those conceal -themselves to the utmost of their power from the vulgar gaze, these -court the popular eye, and, unlike their brethren, whom nothing short -of compulsion will move to exertion, are ever ready to display their -acquirements to the wondering throng. We have known bears of undoubted -ability who, when the expectations of a large audience have been wound -up to the utmost pitch, have peremptorily refused to dance; well-taught -monkeys, who have unaccountably objected to exhibit on the slack-wire; -and elephants of unquestioned genius, who have suddenly declined to -turn the barrel-organ: but we never once knew or heard of a biped lion, -literary or otherwise,--and we state it as a fact which is highly -creditable to the whole species,--who, occasion offering, did not seize -with avidity on any opportunity which was afforded him, of performing to -his heart's content on the first violin. - - - - - THE LEGEND OF BOHIS HEAD. - -One of the most south-western points of Ireland is the promontory of -Bohis, which forms the northern shore of the bay of Balinskeligs. A -singular conformation of rock is observable upon the extremity of the -wild cape, it being worn by the incessant beating of the billows into a -grotesque resemblance of the human profile. The waves, however, are not -suffered to claim undisputed this rude sculpture as their own; a far -different origin being attributed to it by the legends of the country -around. The following is the legend, as told to us. - -In times long, very long ago,--prior even to that early age when -Milesius came over from Spain, to plant in Ireland the prolific tribes -of the _O_'s and the _Mac_'s,--Bohis Head, instead of the abrupt, broken -cliffs that now terminate it, presented a lofty and uniform wall of -rock to the assaults of the Atlantic. Upon the topmost summit (much -about where now stand the unfinished walls of one of those desirable -winter-residences, the coast watch-towers, built at _the end_ of the -last war,) there stood, at the period of our tale, the castle of a very -celebrated personage, generally known in those parts as the Baon Ri -Dhuv,--in plain English, "The Black Lady,"--a title partly bestowed on -her, on account of her dark hair and face, and partly on account of the -cruelty and tyranny which she exercised upon all those who were subject -to her dominion. She must have been redoubtable in no small degree, as, -besides the possession of a large army, which she could at any time -collect from her numerous array of vassals, she was a deep proficient -in the art of magic, and was even said to have once, by the potency of -her spells, prevented a drop of rain from falling upon her territories -(which included the whole of Munster) for a week together. But as the -south of Ireland at least has never since been known to be so long -without showers, this feat is not so implicitly believed as other of the -traditions about her. However that may be, this at least is certain, -that she wanted for nothing that force or fraud, fair means or means the -most unholy, could give her; and she was deemed the happiest as well as -the most powerful being in the world. - -Those who said this, did not judge truly. In the midst of all her -splendour and state, caressed, feared, flattered, obeyed as she was -by all, she was not happy; and it is strange that her tenants and -servants did not find this out, as her usual method of easing her -feelings was by ill-treating and abusing them. But they were, in all -probability, too much afraid of her to call even their thoughts their -own, for fear of being metamorphosed into goats, or cows, or some other -species of beasts; a change of life which, from the scanty grazing of -the neighbouring mountain pastures, they did not deem very inviting. -She was _not_ happy; and simply because, among her myriad of vassals, -flatterers, and slaves, she had not one _friend_. There was the whole -secret. In her inmost soul she--that proud, tyrannical, haughty, -hard-hearted woman--felt that, all feared and all potent as she was, she -still was no more than mortal; and that within her own breast there was -that which tyrannised over herself,--the innate longings of our nature -for sympathy, for companionship, for affection. The humblest hind that -served her, had a comrade,--a friend; while she, the queen and mistress -of all, was the object of detestation as universal as the slavish -obedience that met her at every step. At first she scoffed and spurned -at the dull internal aching; it was a weakness, she thought, that needed -but to be fought against, to be for ever quelled. She sought wars and -conflicts; she dived deeper than ever before into the unholy mysteries -of the "Black Art;" she revelled, she feasted, and she succeeded in -quelling the rebel feeling for a time,--but only for a time. There came -a reaction to her excitement; and, while her spirits and all else seemed -exhausted and worn out, this dull yearning was stronger and more aching -than ever. At length, one day, after a long and painful reverie, she -started up, striking her forehead violently, and vowed that she would -have a friend,--a companion,--nay, even (as her sentimentality increased -with indulgence) a _husband_,--or perish in the attempt! As the oath -passed her lips, a tremendous peal of thunder rolled over the castle -towers and passed off to seaward, dying away in the distance with a -sound not unlike a wild and prolonged shout of laughter. - -She had not much time to lose, if she intended to marry. The little -servant-boy, who had been allowed to get drunk on the night of -rejoicings for her birth, was now a grave and sedate major-domo of -most venerable age. She herself, but some fifteen or sixteen years his -junior, was long past the time when the grossest flattery could make -her believe that she was young; and her years had not passed over her -head without leaving their traces behind. She had been in her best days -what is called by friends "rather plain," which generally means "very -ugly." Her forehead bowed out and overhung her nose, which endeavoured -to stretch out to some decent length, but was unfortunately foiled by -the want of a bridge. The mouth, as if it perceived this failure on -the part of the feature immediately above it, modestly declined the -contest, and retreated far inward. The chin, however, amply made up for -all intermediate deficiencies, and even surpassed the forehead in the -hugeness of its proportions, or _dis_proportions. Her hair was black, -as has been said, and hung in long, lanky clusters about her face. Time -seldom improves the human countenance, and certainly made no exception -in favour of the Baon Ri Dhuv. At the time of her vow many wrinkles had -made their appearance, and unequivocal grey hairs chequered the once -uniform sable that covered her head. Magic had not then arrived at the -pitch of perfection to which it afterwards attained in the times of -Virgilius and Apollonius Rhodius; and, among the inventions yet in the -womb of time, were the charms for restoring youth and imparting beauty. - -The lady of the castle set off, one fine morning, on the back of a -cloud which she had hailed as it was drifting over her chimney-tops, -driven inland by the fresh breeze from the ocean. As she was borne -along, she looked anxiously right and left down upon the earth, to -spy out, if possible, the desired companion. But she found she had -grown very fastidious, now that the means of ridding herself of her -troublesome desires appeared open to her. She looked at no women; she -felt instinctively that none of her own sex could be the friend that -would satisfy her heart: but all the young men that she passed over, -she scrutinized, as if her life depended upon it. They in their turn -stared a good deal at her, as well they might; for it was no common -thing, even in those days, to see a woman perched up on a cloud, sailing -over your head before a rattling breeze of wind. Perhaps it was their -staring at her, so different from the downcast eyes and humble mien of -her slaves at home,--perhaps it was their rude remarks that displeased -her; whatever it was, on she went without making her choice, until -towards the close of the day she found she had nearly crossed Ireland -in a diagonal line from south-west to north-east, the wind blowing in -that direction. As it still blew merrily, and it was full-moon night, -she determined to go on to Scotland, and try whether Sawnie could -please her, better then Paddy. With this resolve she had not proceeded -more than half a league from the shore of Ireland, when she perceived -she was going over a mountain-islet some five or six miles in girth, -and apparently very fertile in its soil, for large herds of cattle -were grazing upon its sides. It is a trite and true saying, that those -who possess much, are often covetous of more; and in her case it was -especially true. With a word she stayed the cloud over the island; the -wind falling all at once, in obedience to her will. If there were any -of the old Vikingir, those daring privateersmen of ancient times, that -night upon the waters, how they and their fierce crews must have heaped -maledictions on the unseen power that quelled the merry breeze before -which they were late careering gaily with bended mast and bellying sail, -and summoned them to ply the labouring oar throughout the hours they had -vainly hoped to give to slumber! But the Black Lady was not a person to -care much for such trifles as curses. If she had been so, she would have -led an extremely uncomfortable life, for she had merited a good many of -them in her time. Over the island she hung, gazing down upon it, and -gloating on its richness and fertility, while she inwardly resolved to -strain her magical powers to the utmost, to transfer it from its present -position to the neighbourhood of her own coast. Her attention, however, -was soon withdrawn from all other objects, and concentrated on one that -had just caught her eye: it was a young man, the only one she had as yet -seen who did not stare up at her, rudely and impertinently. Indeed he -did not look up at all. He seemed to have no eyes, no soul, for any one -but a young girl who was by his side. The lady on the cloud could see by -the moonlight that the girl's face was exceedingly beautiful; that is -to say, as much as could be perceived of it when she occasionally, and -but for a moment, raised her eyes from the ground, on which they were -riveted. - -"Speak! will you not speak to me?" were the words of the young man: "but -one word, Eva,--dearest Eva,--to tell me have I offended by my boldness?" - -The girl blushed ten times deeper than before, and her lips quivered as -at length she slowly murmured out, "No, Conla!" - -"Thanks! thanks!" was his rapturous exclamation; "a thousand times -thanks, my own, my ... Hallo! what is this? Whence come you?" These -latter words were addressed to the Black Lady, as, to his utter -astonishment, she alighted from the cloud right in his path. Eva -shrieked, and hid her face in his bosom. - -"I am the Baon Ri Dhuv," said the enchantress, trying to look dignified, -and to smooth away the scowl that had darkened her visage since she -perceived his companion,--"the Queen of the South!" - -"And what can the Baon Ri Dhuv, the Queen of the South, want with Conla, -a shepherd of the north?" - -"Young man, mock me not," replied she, frowning most awfully: "you know -not, but you may be made to _feel_, my power. Listen to me," continued -she in a milder tone, and putting on what she intended to be a most -amiable and engaging look; but which gave her coarse lineaments a still -more grotesque hideousness, that almost made the young shepherd laugh in -her face, despite the secret dread he felt creeping on his heart. "I am -the ruler of a vast tract of country; I have a vast army to do my will; -nay, more, I have dominion over the elements in their fiercest rage, -and spirits obey my bidding. I am rich beyond counting. You smile, and -believe not. Look here!" - -As she spoke, she struck the ground three times with her foot, muttering -rapidly to herself, when up sprang close to her, a tall tree of the -purest gold, the glittering branches laden with jewels beyond all price. -Seizing one of these, a magnificent emerald, and pulling it off the -branch, again she stamped her foot, and the tree disappeared, leaving -the jewel in her hands. - -"Here," continued she, putting it into Conla's passive hand, "here is -earnest of my wealth; leave that weak girl, and come with me to wealth -and happiness!" - -Conla had hitherto been kept dumb by the strange scene before him; but -now, rousing himself, he looked at his Eva, and meeting her gaze of -deep, whole-hearted, confiding affection, he dashed the glittering jewel -on the ground, and cried, - -"Away, sorceress! I spurn your gifts, your accursed power, yourself! -With Eva will I live or die!" - -The face of the Black Lady showed horrible in the pale moonlight, as, -with a withering scowl of hatred and vengeance, she again spoke: - -"You shall not die, insolent wretch! You shall live in agonies to which -death were mercy; ay, and she, too,--that worthless thing you prefer to -me,--she, too, shall suffer!" - -As she spoke, she described a circle in the air with her hand round the -island. At once the moon became obscured, and a terrible darkness fell -upon all, while a sudden storm swept over the island. Conla and his Eva -tried to fly to some cave for refuge, but were arrested by the sight -that met their eyes when the transitory darkness cleared away. The moon -again shone out brilliantly, and by its light the lovers perceived, -to their great horror, that the island itself was in motion! A little -ahead of its southernmost point their persecutor was scudding over the -waters in a bark, the traditional accounts of which, represent it as a -good deal resembling the steam-boats of modern days, for there was smoke -issuing out of it; and two or three respectable individuals, with black -faces, fiery eyes, horns on their heads, and tails twirled in graceful -folds, might be seen through an open hatchway, employed in much the -same manner as the hard-working, hard-drinking steam-packet engineers -of our own times, while a clacking and clanging of iron was continually -heard, similar to the sounds that annoy sea-sick passengers at present. -From the taffrail of this inviting-looking vessel, three or four strong -cables stretched to the island, and were rove through an immense hole -in a huge projecting rock, that seemed as if it had been bored for this -especial purpose. The steamer tugged gallantly, and the island plashed -and splashed heavily along, at the rate of twenty or thirty knots an -hour: the cows and sheep upon the latter, not having their sea-legs -aboard, tumbled and rolled about in fine style. Eva got exceedingly -sea-sick, and Conla exceedingly indignant: but there was no use in his -anger. On the island went. - -On and on,--past Belfast, Drogheda, Dublin,--rattling and splashing -along, greatly to the astonishment of the fishes, who, besides being -then quite unaccustomed to public steaming, had never before seen an -island on the move. Between Dublin and Holyhead there was a little -difficulty; for the island, which was exceedingly unmanageable, fetched -away to starboard, and took the ground a little outside of Howth. This -was a cause of great delight to the lovers, who thought their voyage was -now at an end; but they were much mistaken; two of the amiable gentry -who manned the tug-boat jumped lightly on the island, and cut away with -a couple of strokes of an axe the part that was aground, it breaking -into two pieces, which remain to this day, proof of the truth of this -tale, under the names of Lambay and Ireland's Eye. On went the steamer -again, and on went the island merrily and clumsily as ever, and the -Black Lady looked back and laughed at the disappointed lovers. - -Wicklow went by,--Wexford,--and now the shores of the county Waterford -hove in sight; and the vessel and island, rounding Point Carnsore in -gallant style, issued out from the Irish Channel into the waters of the -Atlantic. - -Morning had broken by this time, and a bright and beautiful morning it -was. Eva, overpowered by fatigue, had sunk to sleep; Conla sate beside -her, deep anxiety lowering on his brow, and his soul rent with the most -agonizing emotions. Meantime his body was just as much disturbed, for -the island was now heaving and pitching worse than before, upon the -longer billows of the ocean; and he occasionally had to hold on with -both his hands to the stones and shrubs near him, to prevent himself -from being what sailors would call "hove overboard" by the violent -motion of the strange craft in, or rather _on_, which he was embarked. -Disliking his situation exceedingly, and greatly fearing that he would -have still more reason to do so, he saw that there was no chance of his -delivery from it, if he could not succeed in mollifying the enraged -enchantress. Espying her again seated upon the steamer's taffrail, he -therefore hailed her, and sought by humble prayers and entreaties to -induce her to release him and his Eva; or, if one should suffer, to set -her free, and vent the heaviest vengeance upon his head. But the Black -Lady let him talk on. He had a very sweet voice, and she liked to hear -that; and, when he had done, she contented herself with simply shaking -her head in token of refusal: then, as he again stooped his proud spirit -to still more vehement entreaties and supplications, and raved in the -intensity of his anguish, she mocked at him, and laughed loud and long -in scorn, till at length, wearied out and despairing, he sunk his head -upon his bosom, and was silent. Slowly the day wore on, but quickly the -headlands and bays of the southern shore of Ireland glided by; and great -was the wonder and amaze of those who looked to seaward from that shore. -Many were the noble fishes left that day in the depths of the ocean with -the barbed hook fast in their jaws, as the wild natives of the coast, in -terror at the sight of the demon vessel and her charge, hove overboard -their rude fishing-gear to lighten their frail coracles, and plied sail -and oar to seek refuge on the land. It has been even surmised that it -was some such sight as this, that scared that first great geographer, -Ptolemy, and made him fly the Irish coast ere he had completed his -survey. However, this is a point that has never been fully ascertained. - -The sun was sinking gloriously into the bosom of the slow-heaving main -as the steamer, with the island in tow, rounded Dursey Head, and hove -in sight of their destination, the promontory of Bohis. With exultation -in her eyes, the Baon Ri Dhuv pointed out her lofty castle, shining in -the distance with the last rays of the departing orb of day. Eva was now -awake, and her and Conla's supplications were poured out for mercy and -for pity; but they might as well have been uttered to Bohis Head itself. -The leagues between the latter place and Dursey Head were rapidly -traversed, and now the island had been towed within a mile of its final -destination, which was the promontory on which the castle stood. At -this moment another sudden storm, such as that of the preceding night, -passed athwart the scene; and, when it cleared away, the steamer had -disappeared, and the Black Lady was to be seen, upon the headland -tugging at the island to bring it closer. - -"Is there no help in Heaven!" cried Conla, as, after another appeal in -vain to their persecutor, he threw his eyes up with a reproachful glance. - -"Hush, Conla! reproach not the powers above; they are most merciful, and -will protect us. Hark! they answer!" - -At this moment a heavy peal of thunder crashed over head, and, rolling -towards the castle, seemed to expend itself over its summit. - -"Dread lady," cried Eva, animated to unusual courage by the omen, -"hearken to that, and yield to the powers of Heaven!--they declare -against thy tyranny!" - -"Never!" roared the tyrant, her eyes flashing baleful fire. "Sooner will -I become part of this mountain on which I stand mistress, than ye shall -escape me!" - -As she spoke, she gave a pull with her utmost strength to the chains. At -the moment a vivid flash of lightning darted from the clouds, and the -chains snapped right asunder. With the force of the shock the Black Lady -was precipitated into the sea, the island at the same time rebounding -back and becoming fixed for ever about halfway between Dursey and Bohis -Head. - -The Baon Ri Dhuv's tenants and servants spent the night in vainly -searching for her. The morning revealed to them a terrible sight. -Upon the extremity of the cape her well-known visage appeared, but -transformed to stone, and doomed for ages to remain there, lashed by the -raging billows of the ocean. Thus was her fatal wish accomplished! - -The island so strangely brought round, remains where it recoiled to, -and is now known by the name of Scariff. It is still rich land, and -feeds many herds; a strong proof of the authenticity of this tale, and -which is farther borne out by the fact, that the hole through which -the towing-chains were rove remains to this hour. Conla and Eva lived -happily for the rest of their days where they were, and left a numerous -progeny. It is said that the little old man who, with his strapping -offspring, fourteen in number, now tenants the island, is their lineal -descendant. The emerald that Conla threw away was afterwards found, -and preserved as a memorial of the events narrated until the times of -Cromwell; when some of his soldiers, having visited the island for -the laudable purpose of killing a friar who lived there as a hermit, -indulged another of their virtuous propensities by carrying the jewel -away with them. - - - - - BOB BURNS AND BERANGER. - SAM LOVER AND OVIDIUS NASO. - - BY FATHER PROUT. - - TO THE EDITOR OF BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. - - SIR,--Under the above title I forward you two more scraps from - _Water-grass-hill_. - -The first is a glee in praise of poverty, a subject on which poets of -every country have a common understanding. The Italian BERNI, indeed, -went a step farther when he sang the "comforts of being in debt,"--_La -laude del debito_; but your enthusiast never knows where to stop. This -MS. may suit in the present state of the money market,--a bill drawn -by Burns and endorsed by Beranger. You can rely on the Scotchman's -signature, _experto crede Roberto_; while there can be no doubt that -the French songster's financial condition fully entitles him to join -Burns in an attempt of this kind. Since, however, much spurious paper -appears to be afloat, you will use your own discretion as to the foreign -acceptance. - -Of Scrap No. VI. I say nothing, Doctor Prout having left a note on the -subject prefixed to the same. Yours, &c. - RORY O'DRYSCULL. - _Water-grass-hill, April 20._ - - SCRAP NO. V. - - I. 1. - Is there, Quoi! Pauvre honnête - For honest poverty, Baisser la tête? - That hangs his head Quoi! rougir de la sorte? - And a' that? Que l'âme basse - The coward slave S'éloigne et passe - We pass him by, Nous--soyons gueux! n'importe! - We dare be poor for a' that: Travail obscur-- - For a' that, and a' that, N'importe! - Our toils obscure, Quand l'or est pur - And a' that; N'importe! - The rank is but Qu'il ne soit point - The guinea's stamp, Marqué au coin - The MAN's the gowd for a' that. D'un noble rang--qu'importe! - - II. 2. - What! though Quoiqu'on dût faire - On homely fare we dine, Bien maigre chère - Wear hidden grey, Et vêtir pauvre vêtement; - And a' that; Aux sots leur soie, - Give fools their silks, Leur vin, leur joie; - And knaves their wine, Ça fait'il L'HOMME? eh, nullement! - A man's a MAN for a' that: 'Luxe et grandeur-- - For a' that, for a' that, Qu'importe! - Their tinsel show, Train et splendeur-- - And a' that; Qu'importe! - The honest man, Coeurs vils et creux! - Though e'er so poor, Un noble gueux - Is king o' men for a' that. Vaut toute la cohorte! - - III. 3. - Ye see Voyez ce fat-- - Yon birkie, ca'd a lord, Un vain éclat - Wha struts and stares, L'entoure, et on l'encense, - And a' that; Mais après tout - Though hundreds worship Ce n'est qu'un fou,-- - At his word, Un sot, quoiqu'il en pense; - He's but a coof for a' that: Terre et maison, - For a' that, for a' that, Qu'il pense-- - His riband, star, Titre et blazon, - And a' that; Qu'il pense-- - The man of Or et ducats, - Independent mind Non! ne font pas - Can look and laugh at a' that. La vraie indépendence! - - IV. 4. - A king Un roi peut faire - Can make a belted knight, Duc, dignitaire, - A marquis, duke, Comte et marquis, journellement; - And a' that; Mais ce qu'on nomme - But an HONEST MAN Un HONNÊTE HOMME, - 's aboon his might, Le peut-il faire? eh, nullement! - Guid faith he manna fa' that. Tristes faveurs! - For a' that, for a' that, Réellement; - Their dignities, Pauvres honneurs! - And a' that; Réellement; - The pith o' sense Le fier maintien - And pride o' warth Des gens de bien - Are higher ranks than a' that. Leur manque essentiellement. - - V. 5. - Then let us pray Or faisons voeu - That come it may-- Qu'à tous, sous peu, - As come it will Arrive un jour de jugement;-- - For a' that-- Amis, ce jour - That sense and warth, Aura son tour, - O'er all the earth, J'en prends, j'en prends, - l'engagement. - May bear the gree, and a' that! Espoir et encouragement, - For a' that, and a' that, - It's coming yet, Aux pauvres gens - For a' that, Soulagement; - That man to man, 'Lors sure la terre - The warld a' o'er, Vivrons en frères, - Shall brothers be, for a' that. Et librement, et sagement! - - - SCRAP NO. VI. - -Possevino, in his _History of the Gonzagas_, (fol. Mantua, 1620,) tells -us, at page 781, that a Polish army, having penetrated to the Euxine, -found the ashes, with many MSS. of Ovid under a marble monument, which -they transferred in pomp to Cracow, A.D. 1581. It is well known that the -exiled Roman had written sundry poems in barbaric metre to gratify the -Scythian and Getic literati with whom he was surrounded. We have his own -words for it: - - "_Cæpique poetæ - Inter inhumanos nomen habere Getas._" - -The following is a fair specimen, procured by the kindness of the late -erudite Quaff-y-punchovitz, Keeper of the Archives of the Cracovian -University. The rhythmic termination, called by the Greeks [Greek: -omoioteleuton] is here clearly traceable to a Northern origin. It would -appear that the Scandinavian poets took great pride in the nicety and -richness of these rhymes, by which they beguiled the tediousness of -their winter nights: - - "_Accipiunt inimicam hyemem_ RIMIS_que, fatiscunt._" - -Ovid first tried thus an experiment on his native tongue, which was duly -followed up by the CHURCH, not unwilling to indulge by any reasonable -concession her barbarous converts in the sixth century. Of Mr. Lover's -translation it were superfluous to point out the miraculous fidelity; -delicate gallantry and well-sustained humour distinguish every line of -his vernacular version, hardly to be surpassed by the _Ars amandi_ of -his Latin competitor. - - - TO THE HARD-HEARTED MOLLY AD MOLLISSIMAM PUELLAM, È GETICÂ - CAREW, THE LAMENT OF HER CARUARUM FAMILIÂ OVIDIUS - IRISH LOVER. NASO LAMENTATUR. - - 1. I. - Och hone! Heu! heu! - Oh! what will I do? Me tædet, me piget o! - Sure my love is all crost, Cor mihi riget o! - Like a bud in the frost ... Ut flos sub frigido ... - And there's no use at all Et nox ipsa mî, tum - In my going to bed; Cum vado dormitùm, - For 'tis dhrames, and not sleep, Infausta, insomnis, - That comes into my head ... Transcurritur omnis ... - And 'tis all about you, Hoc culpâ fit tuâ - My sweet Molly Carew, Mî, ollis Carùa, - And indeed 'tis a sin Sic mihi illudens, - And a shame.-- Nec pudens.-- - You're complater than nature Prodigum tu, re - In every feature; Es, verâ, naturæ, - The snow can't compare Candidor lacte;-- - To your forehead so fair: Plus fronte cum hâc te, - And I rather would spy Cum istis ocellis, - Just one blink of your eye Plus omnibus stellis - Than the purtiest star Mehercule vellem.-- - That shines out of the sky; Sed heu, me imbellem! - Tho'--by this and by that! A me, qui sum fidus, - For the matter o' that-- Vel ultimum sidus - You're more distant by far Non distat te magis ... - Than that same. Quid agis! - Och hone, wierasthrew! Heu! heu! nisi tu - I am alone Me ames, - In this world without you! Pero! pillauleu! - - 2. II. - Och hone! Heu! heu! - But why should I speak Sed cur sequar laude - Of your forehead and eyes, Ocellos aut frontem - When your nose it defies Si NASI, cum fraude, - Paddy Blake the schoolmaster Prætereo pontem?... - To put it in rhyme?-- Ast hic ego minùs - Though there's one BURKE, Quàm ipse LONGINUS - He says, In verbis exprimem - Who would call it _Snub_lime ... Hunc nasum sublimem ... - And then for your cheek, De floridâ genâ - Throth 'twould take him a week Vulgaris camoena - Its beauties to tell Cantaret in vanum - As he'd rather:-- Per annum.-- - Then your lips, O machree! Tum, tibi puella! - In their beautiful glow Sic tument labella - They a pattern might be Ut nil plus jucundum - For the cherries to grow.-- Sit, aut ribicundum; - 'Twas an apple that tempted Si primitùs homo - Our mother, we know; Collapsus est pomo, - For apples were scarce Si dolor et luctus - I suppose long ago: Venerunt per fructus, - But at this time o' day, Proh! ætas nunc serior - 'Pon my conscience I'll say, Ne cadat, vereor, - Such cherries might tempt Icta tam bello - A man's father! Labello: - Och hone, wierasthrew! Heu! heu! nisi tu - I'm alone Me ames, - In this world without you! Pereo! pillaleu! - - 3. III. - Och hone! Heu! heu! - By the man in the moon! Per cornua lunæ - You teaze me all ways Perpetuò tu ne - That a woman can plaze; Me vexes impunè?... - For you dance twice as high I nunc choro salta - With that thief Pat Macghee (Mac-ghìus nam tecùm) - As when you take share Plantâ magis altâ - Of a jig, dear, with me; Quàm sueveris mecùm!... - Though the piper I bate, Tibicinem quando - For fear the ould chate Cogo fustigando - Wouldn't play you your Ne falsum det melus, - Favourite tune. Anhelus.-- - And when you're at Mass A te in sacello - My devotion you crass, Vix mentem revello, - For 'tis thinking of you Heu! miserè scissam - I am, Molly Carew; Te inter et Missam; - While you wear on purpose Tu latitas vero - A bonnet so deep, Tam stricto galero - That I can't at your sweet Ut cernere vultum - Pretty face get a peep. Desiderem multùm. - Oh! lave off that bonnet, Et dubites jam, nùm - Or else I'll lave on it (Ob animæ damnum) - The loss of my wandering Sit fas hunc deberi - Sowl! Auferri! - Och hone! like an owl, Heu! heu! nisi tu - Day is night, Coràm sis, - Dear, to me without you! Cæcus sim: eleleu! - - 4. IV. - Och hone! Heu! heu! - Don't provoke me to do it; Non me provocato, - For there's girls by the score Nam virginum sat, o! - That loves me, and more. Stant mihi amato ... - And you'd look very queer, Et stuperes planè, - If some morning you'd meet Si aliquo manè - My wedding all marching Me sponsum videres; - In pride down the street. Hoc quomodo ferres? - Throth you'd open your eyes, Quid diceres, si cum - And you'd die of surprise Triumpho per vicum, - To think 'twasn't you Maritus it ibi, - Was come to it. Non tibi! - And 'faith! Katty Naile Et pol! Catherinæ - And her cow, I go bail, Cui vacca, (tu, sine) - Would jump if I'd say, Si proferem hymen - "Katty Naile, name the day." Grande esset discrimen; - And though you're fair and fresh Tu quamvis, hìc aio - As the blossoms in May, Sis blandior Maio, - And she's short and dark Et hæc calet rariùs - Like a cowld winter's day, Quàm Januarius; - Yet, if _you_ don't repent Si non mutas brevi, - Before Easter,--when Lent Hanc mihi decrevi - Is over--I'll marry (Ut sic ultus forem) - For spite. Uxorem; - Och hone! and when I Tum posthâc diù - Die for you, Me spectrum - 'Tis my ghost that you'll see Verebere tu ... eleleu! - every night! - - - - - FAMILY STORIES. No. IV.--THE SQUIRE'S STORY. - - THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS. - A GOLDEN LEGEND. - - "Tunc miser Corvus adeo conscientiæ - stimulis compunctus fuit, et execratio - eum tantopere excarneficavit, ut exinde tabescere - inciperet, maciem contraheret, omnem cibum aversaretur, - nec ampliùs crocitaret: pennæ præterea ei defluebant, - et alis pendulis omnes facetias intermisit, et tam - macer apparuit ut omnes ejus miserescerent." - - "Tunc abbas sacerdotibus mandavit ut - rursus furem absolverent; quo facto, Corvus, omnibus - mirantibus, propediem convaluit, et pristinam - santitatem recuperavit." _De Illust. Ord. Cisterc._ - - The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair! - Bishop, and abbot, and prior were there; - Many a monk, and many a friar, - Many a knight, and many a squire, - With a great many more of lesser degree,-- - In sooth, a goodly company; - And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee. - Never, I ween, - Was a prouder seen, - Read of in books, or dreamt of in dreams, - Than the Cardinal Lord Archbishop of Rheims! - - In and out, - Through the motley rout, - That little Jackdaw kept hopping about; - Here and there, - Like a dog in a fair, - Over comfits and cates, - And dishes and plates, - Cowl and cope, and rochet and pall, - Mitre and crosier, he hopped upon all! - With a saucy air, - He perch'd on the chair - Where in state the great Lord Cardinal sat - In the great Lord Cardinal's great red hat; - And he peer'd in the face - Of his Lordship's Grace - With a satisfied look, as if he would say, - "We two are the greatest folks here to-day!" - And the priests, with awe, - As such freaks they saw, - Said, "The devil must be in that little Jackdaw!" - - The feast was over, the board was clear'd, - The flawns and the custards had all disappear'd, - And six little singing-boys,--dear little souls - In nice clean faces and nice white stoles, - Came, in order due, - Two by two, - Marching that grand refectory through! - A nice little boy held a golden ewer, - Embossed, and filled with water as pure - As any that flows between Rheims and Namur, - Which a nice little boy stood ready to catch - In a fine golden hand-basin made to match. - Two nice little boys, rather more grown, - Carried lavender water and eau de Cologne; - And a nice little boy had a nice cake of soap, - Worthy of washing the hands of the Pope. - One little boy more - A napkin bore, - Of the best white diaper, fring'd with pink, - And a Cardinal's Hat mark'd in permanent ink. - - The great Lord Cardinal turns at the sight - Of these nice little boys dress'd all in white: - From his finger he draws - His costly turquoise; - And, not thinking at all about little Jackdaws, - Deposits it straight - By the side of his plate, - While the nice little boys on his Eminence wait; - Till, when nobody's dreaming of any such thing, - That little Jackdaw hops off with the ring. - - * * * * * - - There's a cry and a shout, - And a deuce of a rout, - And nobody seems to know what they're about, - But the monks have their pockets all turn'd inside out; - The friars are kneeling, - And hunting, and feeling - The carpet, the floor, and the walls, and the ceiling. - The Cardinal drew - Off each plum-coloured shoe, - And left his red stockings expos'd to the view; - He peeps, and he feels - In the toes and the heels. - They turn up the dishes, they turn up the plates, - They take up the poker and poke out the grates, - They turn up the rugs, - They examine the mugs:-- - But no! no such thing; - They can't find the ring; - And the abbot declared that, "when nobody twigg'd it, - Some rascal or other had popped in, and prigg'd it!" - - The Cardinal rose with a dignified look, - He call'd for his candle, his bell, and his book! - In holy anger, and pious grief, - He solemnly cursed that rascally thief! - He curs'd him at board, he curs'd him in bed; - From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head; - He curs'd him in sleeping, that every night - He should dream of the devil, and wake in a fright; - He curs'd him in eating, he curs'd him in drinking, - He curs'd him in coughing, in sneezing, in winking; - He curs'd him in sitting, in standing, in lying, - He curs'd him in walking, in riding, in flying, - He curs'd him living, he curs'd him dying! - Never was heard such a terrible curse; - But, what gave rise - To no little surprise, - Nobody seem'd one penny the worse! - - The day was gone, - The night came on, - The monks and the friars they search'd till dawn; - When the Sacristan saw, - On crumpled claw, - Come limping a poor little lame Jackdaw! - No longer gay, - As on yesterday; - His feathers all seem'd to be turn'd the wrong way; - His pinions droop'd, he could hardly stand, - His head was as bald as the palm of your hand; - His eye so dim, - So wasted each limb, - That heedless of grammar, they all cried, "That's him!-- - That's the scamp that has done this scandalous thing! - That's the thief that has got my Lord Cardinal's ring!" - - The poor little Jackdaw, - When the monks he saw, - Feebly gave vent to the ghost of a caw; - And turn'd his bald head, as much as to say, - "Pray, be so good as to walk this way!" - Slower and slower - He limp'd on before, - Till they came to the back of the belfry-door, - Where the first thing they saw, - 'Midst the sticks and the straw, - Was the ring, in the nest of that little Jackdaw! - - Then the great Lord Cardinal call'd for his book, - And off that terrible curse he took; - The mute expression - Serv'd in lieu of confession, - And, being thus coupled with full restitution, - The Jackdaw got plenary absolution. - When those words were heard, - That poor little bird - Was so changed in a moment, 'twas really absurd: - He grew sleek and fat; - In addition to that, - A fresh crop of feathers came thick as a mat! - His tail waggled more - Even than before; - But no longer it wagged with an impudent air, - No longer he perch'd on the Cardinal's chair. - He hopped now about - With a gait devout; - At Matins, at Vespers, he never was out; - And, so far from any more pilfering deeds, - He always seem'd telling the Confessor's beads. - If any one lied, or if any one swore, - Or slumber'd in pray'r time and happened to snore, - That good Jackdaw - Would give a great "caw," - As much as to say, "Don't do so any more!" - While many remarked, as his manner they saw, - That they never had known such a pious Jackdaw! - He long lived the pride - Of that country side, - And at last in the odour of sanctity died; - When, as words were too faint - His merits to paint, - The conclave determined to make him a Saint; - And on newly-made Saints and Popes, as you know, - It's the custom at Rome new names to bestow, - So they canoniz'd him by the name of Jem Crow! - - - - - OUR SONG OF THE MONTH. No. VI. - June, 1837. - - I. - Mother of summer roses! - Winter's ling'ring closes - Made us fear for thee:-- - Many a hope was wailing, - Thinking thou wert sailing, - With thy smile, - To some false isle, - Upon our tribute sea! - - II. - Mother of summer roses! - Nought on earth opposes - Our fond claim to thee! - Find'st thou welcome dearer? - Beauty or minstrels nearer? - In the arch - Of thy round march - Can gentler rest-place be? - - III. - Mother of summer roses, - June! thy month discloses - All that is sweet and fair: - Birds and flower wreathing - Minstrel garlands, breathing - Song and bloom - In one perfume, - Reviving the faint air! - - IV. - Mother of summer roses! - On thy breast reposes - The flush'd cheek of the year: - Break not his soft slumbers - With rude music-numbers: - Mingled gush - Of stream and thrush - Be all that may come near! - W. - - - - - PERIODICAL LITERATURE OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. - -It is an astounding but gratifying proof of the rapid march of -civilization, that periodical literature springs up and flourishes among -tribes and nations which, but twenty or thirty years ago, had hardly -advanced a few steps beyond barbarism. A Cherokee newspaper has for some -time been published, and in the Sandwich Islands a gazette has recently -been established; and a file of a paper called "the Indian Phoenix," -published in the United States, under the superintendence of an Indian -editor, and addressed exclusively to his countrymen, has just fallen -under our notice. These are pleasing facts for the consideration of -every true philanthropist, and stable data on which the philosopher may -argue that the day is not far distant when the rays of knowledge shall -illumine every nation of the earth. Wherever a newspaper is established, -ignorance must diminish; for the newspaper is not only the effect, but -the cause of civilization,--not only the work itself, but the means by -which the work is performed. The Indian Phoenix is published in the -English language at Washington, and is from thence distributed among -these roving aborigines, not only in every part of the United States, -but throughout the vast territories of Mexico and Texas. The paper is -not only edited, but printed by Indians; and, whatever may be said of -the intellectual portions of it, the mechanical parts will certainly -bear comparison with the provincial journals of England, and are much -before the newspapers of several of the nations of Europe, those of -Germany and Portugal for instance, which are as wretched specimens of -typography as it is now possible to meet with. - -For the amusement of our readers we shall proceed to make a few extracts -from these very curious journals. The principles which are advocated -therein will, no doubt, appear startling at first sight; but a little -reflection will show, that, although strange, they are not altogether -unfounded. These men have, by the strong arms of European civilization, -been driven from the wild forests inherited by their forefathers, -the woods they hunted in have been converted into corn-fields, and -the clear waters of the lonely rivers beside which they dwelt have -been contaminated by the refuse of smoky manufactories, and rendered -busy with the sails and paddle-wheels of enterprising commerce. The -civilization which thus came upon the land from afar has now reached -its original inhabitants; and the Indians, savages no more, have -begun to employ the arts of peace and the powerful weapons of opinion -to reconquer a portion of the broad lands of which they have been -despoiled. The struggles in Texas, and the unsettled state of Mexico, -have caused them to turn their eyes in that direction; and they have -been inspired by the hope that Mexico is to be the region in which -all the scattered tribes will be collected together to form one great -independent nation. It is not intended in this brief notice to speculate -upon the probability or improbability of such a scheme, or to say -whether or not these dispersed and dismembered clans, without leader or -bond of union, will ever be able to accomplish so gigantic a project. -It is sufficient to state that such is their object, in order that the -reader may understand the allusions in the extracts which we shall place -before him. The following will show the prose these Indians are capable -of writing (we shall come to their poetry by and by), and will also give -an idea of their political creed. In the leading article of the first -number, the editor says, - -"Our creed may be met with in these words. We render unto the -self-esteemed civilized world the things which are the self-esteemed -civilized world's, and unto the long-oppressed, yet noble, elevated, and -dignified Indian the things which once belonged and shall again belong -to him." - -These sentiments, and their open avowal, although they may not cause the -settler to tremble for the safety of his homestead, ought nevertheless -to make the statesman ponder well on the condition and aspirations of -this ill-used race. The editor continues: - -"In the deep gloom of the future position of these countries we see -no evidence of a single periodical grasping with energetic vision -the coming time. Alone, therefore, do we step on the arena of public -opinion. With nerved heart and nerved hand shall we advance: the -curiosity of the many, the surprise of others, the encouragement of the -few, the denunciations of the National Gazette, or New York American, -or all who may follow in their fetid and nauseous trail, shall not turn -wide one of the barbed arrows which shall now and henceforth be launched -unsparingly at all who cross our path."--"We are not mad, most noble -Festus, but speak the words of truth and soberness." - -The following little bit of Scriptural exposition will, no doubt, cause -a smile even on the grave faces of the learned doctors who are versed in -Biblical knowledge. The Indians, stigmatized by the civilized nations -of the earth for the cruel practice of scalping their fallen enemies, -bring forward the authority of our sacred book in their justification. -Even David, the man after God's own heart, and one of the finest poets -the world ever produced, went out on the war-path like a Mohican or a -Cherokee, and bore away the scalps of his enemies! The editor hints -that this alone would warrant the assertion which has been so often put -forth, that America was peopled by the lost ten tribes of Israel. He -says, - -"We invite the attention--we throw down the gauntlet of defiance to all -and every civilized Christian in Europe or America to gainsay or dispute -the correctness or validity of the inferences and facts stated below. -The Scriptures say, - -"'And Michal, Saul's daughter, loved David; and they told Saul, and the -thing pleased him. - -"'And Saul said, I will give him her that she may be a snare to him, and -that the hand of the Philistines may be against him. - -"'And Saul said, Thus shall ye say to David: the king desireth not any -dowry, but a hundred foreskins of the Philistines, to be avenged on the -king's enemies. But Saul thought to make David fall by the hand of the -Philistines. - -"'Wherefore David arose, he and his men, and slew of the Philistines two -hundred men, and David brought their foreskins, and they gave them in -full toll to the king, that he might be the king's son-in-law.' - -"We see from this," (continues the editor of the Phoenix,) "that -David, who was a great Jewish warrior, went out on the war-path not -from any motive of war, or to revenge the death of his fallen comrades; -but for what? Why, to get a marriage portion to lay before the king -of the Jewish nation. And what was this marriage portion? Lo! it was -one hundred _scalps_ of the Philistines. * * * * * At the conclusion -we are told that Michal, Saul's daughter, loved him. Why? _Because he -was a great warrior, who had taken many scalps, and, moreover, David -behaved himself wisely, that is, cunning, in taking of scalps from the -Philistines, so that his name was much set by._ As the Jews were in the -time of Saul and David, so are the Indian tribes of the West and of -North America. They go out on the war-path, they return with scalps; and -the daughters of the tribe sing, as in the days of David, 'The warrior -Dutch hath slain his tens, but the warrior Smith hath slain his fifties -in the villages of the Tarwargans.'" - -The following is a specimen of the poetry,--one of the war-songs of -these regenerated Indians. We cannot say it is quite equal to the prose, -but it is certainly more curious. - - "Indian chiefs, arise! - The glorious hour's gone forth, - And in the world's eyes - Display who gave you birth! - Indian chiefs, let us go - In arms to Mexico; - Till the Spanish blood shall flow - In a river at our feet. - - Then, manfully despising - The pale faces' yoke, - Let your tribes see you rising - Till your chains is broke!" - -Fastidious readers may object both to the vigour and the grammar of the -above; but we have still richer specimens in store for them. The song -continues: - - "As rose the tribes of _Judah_ - In days long past and gone, - I'll lead you to as _good a_ - Land to be your own. - - Cherokee! in slumbers - Why lethargic wilt thou lie? - Arise, and bring thy numbers - Us to ally. - - Arouse! Oh, then, awake thee! - And hasten to my standard; - For I will ne'er forsake thee, - But ever lead the vanguard! - - Come on, the brave Oneida, - Seneca, Delaware, - The promised land divide a- - -Mong you when you're there." - -The rhymes of "Judah" and "good a" and "standard" and "vanguard," are -tolerably original; but they are beaten hollow by that of the last -verse, "Oneida" and "divide a-"!--"-Mong you when you're there," is a -sequel which has much more truth than elegance in it. "-Mong you (_when -you're there_?)" we would suggest as a new and improved reading of the -passage. The following is in a much more elevated style; there is a -rough vigour about it which many of our own namby-pamby poetasters would -do well to imitate. The rhymes are also more felicitous, and the measure -and grammar less objectionable. - - "The mountain sheep are sweeter, - But the valley sheep are fatter; - We therefore deemed it meeter - To carry off the latter. - We planned an expedition: - We met a host, and quelled it; - We took a strong position, - And killed the men who held it!" - -The above stanza is unique. Every line tells; and there is a raciness, a -tartness about it, if we may so express it, which is quite delightful. - - "_The valley sheep are fatter;_ - _We therefore deemed it meeter_ - _To carry off the latter._" - -Many ballads have been written about Rob Roy, who also had a sneaking -inclination for the "fat sheep" of other people: but the daring -simplicity of these lines has never been surpassed. The song continues: - - "On Norte's richest valley, - There herds of kine were browsing; - We made a nightly sally - To furnish our carousing. - Fierce soldiers rushed to meet us, - We met them, and o'erthrew them; - They struggled hard to beat us, - But we conquered them, and slew them! - - As we drove our prize at leisure, - Santa Anna marched to catch us; - His rage surpassed all measure, - Because he could not match us. - He fled to his hall pillars; - But, ere our force we led off, - Some sacked his house and cellars, - While others cut his head off." - -Poetry has always been allowed some licence, and we suppose we must pass -over the assertion in the last line, by merely observing by the way that -Santa Anna is, in vulgar phrase, still "alive and kicking." The song -ends thus: - - "We then, in strife bewildering, - Spilt blood enough to swim in; - We orphaned many children, (_childering_) - And widowed many women. - - The eagles and the ravens - We glutted with the foemen; - Their heroes and their cravens, - Their lancers and their bowmen. - - As for Santa Anna, their blood-red chief, - His head was borne before us; - His wine and beasts supplied our feasts, - And his overthrow our chorus." - -The foregoing extracts are all in a warlike strain. We will now give a -few specimens of the softer lyrics in which these _scalpers_ indulge. -The Irish melodies of Moore are, it appears, not unknown even amongst -them; and that they are admired, the following imitation, or rather -parody, of one of the most beautiful of them will sufficiently show. - - "There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet - As that Mexican vale in whose bosom "lakes" meet. - Oh! the last ray of feeling and life must depart, - Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart! - - Yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene - Her purest of crystal, and brightest of green; - 'Twas not the soft magic of streamlet or hill: - Oh, no, it was something more heart-touching still! - - 'Twas remembrance of all,--Montezuma--his throne-- - The power and the glory of Aztek all gone! - Like the leaves of the forest in autumn are strewn, - Were the splendour and hope of that race overthrown. - - But the day-star is rising unclouded and bright, - That shall clear and illumine long ages of night, - And restore to that valley the Indian race, - And leave of their white lords no longer a trace. - - Sweet "Mexican valley," how calm shall we rest - In thy bosom of shade, when thy sons are all blest! - When 'neath the fig-tree and the vine of each man - They shall sing to the praise of the Almighty one! - When the storm of the war, and its bloodshed, shall cease, - And our hearts, like her lakes, be mingled in peace!" - -Interspersed through the papers are various imitations of our poets, -especially of Scott, Byron, and Mrs. Hemans. As an apology for the -plagiarisms, the editor places over the poet's corner the following -motto: - - "To the living poets we beg to say, - that it not being fair for them to monopolize - the best words in the language we write in, to say - nothing of the ideas, we take free liberty with them - when need is. We will make them amends two years hence - when they come to see us in the valleys of Mexico. - To the illustrious dead we shall fully explain our - reasons when we may chance to meet them in the 'great - elsewhere.'" - -The next specimen is an imitation of Ossian, a bard whose poetry must -necessarily possess many charms for them. - -"Come, all ye warriors! come with your chief--come! The song rises -like the sun in my soul! I feel the joys of other times. The Cherokee -was on the land of Arkansas. The strange warriors of the prairie were -rich in horses. We said in our souls, why not give the Tarwargans of -their abundance? Six of our warriors were found on the great prairie, -advancing like the moon among clouds, concealed from the view. Days -had passed when they approached the wigwams of the Tarwargans. A -narrow plain spreads beneath, covered with grass and aged trees. The -blue course of a stream is there. The horses were secured. Their feet -were slowly advancing towards the wigwams. Not without eyes were the -Tarwargans. The warriors had not been invisible. High hopes of prairie -horses and the scalps of the enemy fill their souls. A blast came upon -them. The sound of rifles was heard in the air. Three of the warriors -fell! The tomahawk descended, and they were left in their shame without -scalps. Two warriors fled together. SMOKE (a warrior) fled not: he -rushed for safety, and laid himself low with his rifle among the briers. -Shouts of triumph are heard. The Tarwargans return. The slain are -dragged to the dancing-ground--oh, grief! oh, revenge! Did you not know -the heart of _Smoke_? Placed in the ground are three stakes; tied are -the scalpless dead! Upright they sit. Oh, grief! the derision of the -Tarwargans! 'Cunning warriors are ye, oh, Cherokees! but your scalps are -at our feet.'" - -The following, which the editor assures us is a literal translation -from an old song highly popular among the aboriginal tribes of Mexico, -is interesting. The poetry of the original is so sublime that the -translator, in despair of equalling it in rhyme, has given it us in -plain prose. - -"Mexitli Tetzauhteotl (the Terrible God) o-ah! o-ah! o-ah! The son of -the woman of Tula. The green plume is on his head, the wing of the eagle -is on his leg; his forehead is blue, like the firmament. He carries a -spear and buckler, and with the fir-tree of Colhuacan he crushes the -mountains! O-ah! o-ah! o-ah! Mexitli Tetzauhteotl!" - - * * * * * - -"Mexitli Tetzauhteotl! o-ah! o-ah! o-ah! my father ate the heart of -Xochimilco! Where was Painalton, the god of the swift foot, when the -Miztecas ran to the mountains? 'Fast, warrior, fast!' said Painalton, -the brother of Mexitli. His foot-print is on the snows of Istaccihuatl, -and on the tops of the mountains of Orizaba. Toktepec, and Chinantla, -and Matlalzinco were strong warriors, but they shook under his feet -as the hills shake when the king of hell groans in the caverns. So my -father killed the men of the south, the men of the east, and the men of -the west, and Mexitli shook the fir-tree with joy, and Painalton danced -by night among the stars! O-ah! o-ah! Mexitli Tetzauhteotl!" - - * * * * * - -"Mexitli Tetzauhteotl! o-ah! o-ah! Where is the end of Mexico? It begins -in Huehuetapallan in the north, and who knows the end of Huehuetapallan? -In the south it sees the land of crocodiles and vultures,--the bog and -the rock where man cannot live. The sea washes it on the east, the -sea washes it on the west, and that is the end: who has looked to the -end of the waters? Mexico is the land of blossoms,--the land of the -tiger-flower, and the cactus-bud that opens at night like a star,--the -land of the dahlia, that ghosts come to snuff at. It is a land dear to -Mexitli! O-ah! o-ah! Mexitli Tetzauhteotl! - - * * * * * - -"Mexitli Tetzauhteotl! o-ah! o-ah! o-ah! Who were the enemies of Mexico? -Their heads are in the wall of the house of skulls, and the little child -strikes them as he goes by with a twig. Once Mexico was a bog of reeds, -and Mexitli slept on a couch of bulrushes. Our god now sits on a world -of gold, and the world is Mexico. Will any one fight me? I am a Mexican. -Mexitli is the god of the brave. Our city is fair on the island, and -Mexitli sleeps with us. When he calls me in the morning, I grasp the -quiver,--the quiver and the axe,--and I am not afraid. When he winds -his horn from the woods, I know that he is my father, and that he will -look at me while I fight. Sound the horn of battle; I see the spear of a -foe. Mexitli Tetzauhteotl, we are the men of Mexico! O-ah! o-ah! Mexitli -Tetzauhteotl! - -With this extract we shall conclude our notice of this very curious -subject, promising, however, to return to it at a future period. - - - - - EPITAPH. - - When London, of a rogue bereft, - Saw Tompkins, the _distiller_, die; - It seems some twenty pounds he left, - To pay a poet for a lie. - Thus wrote the bard, who, lacking gold, - Was yet to tell a fib unwilling: - "This stone need not _his_ worth disclose, - Who half his life was good _in-stilling_." - R. J. - - - - - A GEOGRAPHICAL EPIGRAM. - - "Oh, dear! such a climate 'tis death to be in-- - I surely shall die in the 'Bights of Benin'!" - - "All look for your death, and the more shall we rue it, - Since the _sups_, not the 'Bights,' will, alas! bring you to it." - R. J. - - - - - DARBY THE SWIFT; OR, - THE LONGEST WAY ROUND IS THE SHORTEST WAY HOME. - - "He who runs may read." - - - CHAPTER 1. - -"A century or two ago, there was a class of dependents or hangers-on -to the great families in Ireland, denominated 'running-footmen,' who -may truly be looked upon as originals in their singular, laborious, -and sometimes even dangerous calling. Though ostensibly mere -letter-carriers, or light-parcel bearers, across the difficult parts of -the country, as yet inaccessible to carriages, or even quadrupeds, (or -rendered passable by that style of road-making which the _Colossus of -Roads_, Macadam, pretended was _his_ discovery,) the running-footmen had -occasionally charges of more serious import. They were often suspected -of being the agents by whom political measures of local warfare were -transmitted from baronial sovereigns to their distant clanships or -allies,--of being walking, or rather running, telegraphs (for their -speed was prodigious) of some plot of treason against the rights of -the invader, and often cruelly and unjustly sacrificed to his fury, -when intercepted on their secret but seldom hostile missions. They -carried their notions of honour on the point of their trust, whatever -it might be, to a romantic scrupulosity. No matter whether it was a -love-letter or a challenge, a purse or a process, a curse or a blessing, -the faithful runner never revealed it to any one but the person for -whom it was intended. Though journeying by the most difficult passes, -and undergoing the most severe privations, those extraordinary fellows -seldom failed in their undertakings. This may be partially accounted for -by the reverence they were held in by their own people; for as the lower -Irish still continue to believe in the strange notion of their Oriental -ancestors, that the souls of 'innocents' (in plainer English, 'fools,') -are in heaven, and that their 'muddy vesture of decay' on earth is -entitled to superstitious respect, these motleys, in either their real -or assumed garb of folly, were treated with a kind of familiar or -affectionate reverence wherever they went amongst their own countrymen. -On the other hand, the paths of their treading, when they went out upon -distant journeys, were so little known to the hostile strangers, that -they ran but little chance of receiving injury at their hands, or even -meeting with them. Such were the running-footmen of other days; but -they are gone,--their _race_ is ended,--and those who pride themselves -upon their descent from the stock seem to have retained but few of the -qualifications of their ancestors. Everything romantic and happy in -Ireland seems to be dwindling away. No longer do we hear the pleasant -announcements of 'Blind Connal the harper, sir,' and 'Miss Biddy -Maquillian the fiddler, my lady,' and 'Dermot O'Dowd the piper, boys,' -and ----" - -I had just read so far in some work or other which I had carelessly -taken up for a peep after dinner one day, when a loud knock at the door -of my apartment made me close the book, and say "Come in!" The door -slowly opened; but, as nobody entered, I demanded "Who's there?" - -"It's me, masther; Darby, yir honor."--"What do you want?" inquired -I.--"Nothing, sir," said he, "but I've got a letther for ye, -sir."--"From whom?" said I.--"Faix, I don't know, sir," replied he -archly; "for I haven't read it yit; but here it is."--"Why don't you -come in and give it to me?" demanded I.--"I'm afraid, sir," said he, -"that my brogues would dirty the carpet, and set all the girls in the -kitchen a-laughing at me for comin' into the drawin'-room; and sure a -purtier room a man need never wish to come into."--"Oh! very well," -said I, rising; "you shall have your way, Darby."--"Am I to wait for an -answer, sir?" said he, giving me the letter.--"No," replied I; "I'll -ring if it be necessary."--"Thank yir honor," said Darby, and turned -to descend the stairs with the furtive caution of a cat when stealing -upon its prey, lest he should make his brogues audible. A loud crash, -succeeded by a louder laugh, through which I distinctly heard, "_Merry -bad look to yiz all!_" convinced me that Darby's coming up stairs with -the letter was a contrivance of the other servants to play some trick -upon him, which their merriment seemed to show had succeeded; but into -which as I did not care to inquire, I sate down, opened my letter, and -began to read. I had not proceeded far before I found it related to -business of the most serious consequence, and required that I should -write _instanter_ to a friend, who was on a visit at Bally----, (nearly -forty miles distant across the country,) and have an answer by immediate -return of post. There was no time to be lost; so I wrote my letter as -speedily as possible, folded, sealed, and directed it, then rang the -bell with unusual impatience. It was promptly answered; but this time -there was no knock at the door before it opened, for it was Eileen, -my usual attendant, that presented herself, with a face whose natural -health, cheerfulness, and rustic beauty were considerably heightened by -the flush of recent merriment. - -"What have you been doing with Darby, Eileen?" said I.--"_Oh, -widdy-eelish!_" (her constant ejaculation) said she laughing, "nothing -at all, sir; only he said he wanted to see the drawin'-room, so we sent -him up with the letter, and he slipped his foot as he came down, sir; -that's all."--"You know I don't like those tricks, Eileen," said I, with -all the severity I could muster against her smothered laughter.--"No, -sir; I know, sir; but when an _omadhaun_ like that--"--"Silence!" said -I. "I want to send a letter by the post: what o'clock is it?"--"Half an -hour too late, sir," said Eileen, resuming her gravity; "and there'll be -no post to-morrow."--"No post to-morrow!" echoed I.--"No sir; tomorrow's -Saturday, you know."--"Confusion!" said I, "it will be so indeed. -What's to be done?"--"I don't know, sir," replied Eileen despondingly; -"how far is it?"--"Oh! nearly forty miles across the country," cried -I; "and I want an answer immediately."--"Can't Darby _run_ across -with it?" said Eileen.--"_Run_ across with it!" cried I; "is the girl -out of her senses? Run across forty miles, as if it were nothing more -than a hop-step-and-jump!"--"He'll do it in that same, sir," said -Eileen seriously, "if ye'll only tell him what it is."--"_Who_'ll -do it?" cried I impatiently.--"Why, Darby, sir," said she; "Darby -in the kitchen, that's known all the country round for Darby the -Swift."--"What!" cried I, "that fellow that brought me the letter -just now? Impossible!"--"There's nothing impossible to God, sir, you -know,--glory be to his name!" said Eileen, "and so the _crathur_ has the -gift of it: he'll do it, I warrant ye." I looked up in Eileen's face, -and saw there was something beyond common opinion pleading for Darby; -so, waiving all farther parley, I desired her to go down stairs and send -him to me instantly. Eileen curtsied, and, retiring, shut the door; but -immediately opened it again, saying "You don't want him the night, sir, -do ye? for," added she with a loud laugh, "I think he has broken his -shin-bone."--"Send him to me immediately," said I peremptorily; upon -which Eileen, exclaiming "_Oh, widdy-eelish!_" made her exit. - -Now it was evident from her last words that Eileen, in conjunction -with others, had done some injury to poor Darby in their gambols; but -as he is just coming up stairs, and will make a long pause before he -presumes to knock at the door a second time, allow me, gentle reader, -_ad interim_, to present you with a portrait of my servant, or follower, -"DARBY RYAN," nick-named "_The Swift_." - -Darby Ryan was about thirty years of age, middle-sized, not over stout, -and tolerably well made. His hair, both in texture and tint, resembled -the _raddled_ back of a fawn-coloured goat, and waved in shaggy -luxuriance everywhere save on his forehead, in the middle of which -it timidly descended in a close-cropped peak, till it nearly united -itself with two enormous dark-coloured eyebrows. His eyes were small, -and the blackest I have ever seen; with a gleam of fire occasionally, -that lent them more archness than ferocity. Some thought he squinted, -and said that, though under _one_ master's direction, his _two pupils_ -went contrary ways; but I believe this was all slander, and only set -forth by jealous people, who themselves, it is said, are rather queer -in their optics. A _fracas_ in a hurling-match had left his nose little -more than a one-arched bridge, by which, if you please, we will pass -along to his mouth, where, if I had the time, I could find ample _room_ -for _rum_ination, &c. But Darby has knocked at my door, and I am forced -to say "Come in!"--"Did yir honor want me, sir? or is it only the -_caileen_'s fun, and the rest of them, in the kitchen?" said Darby, -opening the door, but remaining outside as before. "Come in," said I -encouragingly, "and take a seat for a moment; I'll tell you what I want -with you." The girl's fears for the carpet were quite right; for Darby, -making a bow to me on his entrance, scraped about a pound of mud off his -brogues, which would have discomfited him quite if I had not proceeded -with "Do you know the road to Bally----? Can you find your way to it -safely, Darby?" - -"Can a duck swim, yir honor?" said Darby, emboldened by degrees. - -"Oh! very well, I understand you," said I. "Now, mark me: I want you -to take this letter to a friend of mine, who is on a visit with the -clergyman there, and bring me an answer as speedily as possible. Are you -so quick-footed as they say?" - -"Quick-_futted_!" said Darby, seating himself on the very corner of the -nearest chair; "where there's a will there's a way, as the sayin' is: -but I was never counted slow anyhows but oncet, and that was when I made -the clock stop of its own accord on a Patrick's Day, and sure, when we -broke up our party, we found it was two days afterwards." - -"Well, take care and be more sparing of your time for the present," said -I, anxious to despatch him. - -"You may rely on it, sir," said he; "I'll spare _nather_ time nor -trouble in the doin' of it, although it is letter-carryin'." - -"Letter-carrying!" said I; "and pray what is there disgraceful in the -calling?" - -"Oh! nothing at all disgraceful in the _calling_, sir," said Darby, -"as yir honor says, but quite the reverse, if the letters are not paid -aforehand." - -"You would not surely appropriate the postage to yourself?" said I, -looking severely, though I did not exactly comprehend him. - -"Is it me, sir?--_Pop_eriate the king's pocket money in that way, poor -ould gentleman! I'm not in parliament yet, nor ever had a fine situation -under government, like yir honor." - -"Be not impertinent, sir," said I sharply; "I'd have you know and keep -your distance." Darby rose immediately from the chair, of which about -this time he had occupied nearly one half, saying, - -"Any distance you like for a short time, sir; for it's myself would -grieve to part you for ever. What's the word of command, sir, and I'm -off?--Right or left, north or south, Darby Ryan's yir man 'gainst wind -or tide, as was said of one of my posteriors----" - -"Your ancestors you mean," said I smiling. - -"My _aunt's sisters_, yir honor! Faith and he wasn't one of her -_sisters_, nor one of my _four_ fathers either,--for he was -neither my godfather, nor my own father, nor my grandfather, -nor my great-grandfather; but, as I said afore, one of my -pos--pos--pos--_terity_, (I have the word now, divil take it!) that was -christened RYAN THE RACER, for bein' runnin' futtman ages ago to the -first quality in the country." - -By this time I began to perceive that, however quick Darby's heels might -be, they had a formidable rival in his tongue; so I endeavoured to check -_it_ at once by saying, "I have no time now to attend to any stories -about your ancestry or relations; I merely wish to know can you take -this letter to its direction, and speedily bring me an answer to it: in -a word, can you set our immediately, and travel all night?"--"All night, -yir honor! is it all night that's in yir mind?" said Darby, evidently -hurt at my inquiry: "Gog's blud!" he continued half apart, "I was never -taken for a turkey afore."--"A turkey!" said I, quite at a loss to -understand him.--"Yes, yir honor," said Darby, "a turkey--the very worst -_baste_ on the road for a long stretch (barrin' his neck) that ever -was christened! Did yir honor ever hear of the wager 'tween the goose -and him?"--"Never," said I sullenly.--"Then I'm glad of it, masther," -said Darby rejoicingly, "for it gives me the pleasure of tellin' it -to yir honor. You see, sir, that oncet upon a time there was an ould -cock-turkey----"--"Cock and a bull!" said I, losing all patience; "go -down stairs! I don't want you at all."--"No sir; I know you don't, -sir," said Darby with most provoking perseverance; "but I thought ye'd -like to hear how an ould gander sarved the bull-turkey, big as he -was."--"Well, then," said I in despair, "go on."--"Thank ye, sir," said -Darby, and then continued, while I from time to time anxiously looked -at my watch, stirred the fire, or fidgeted myself in twenty different -ways, in the hope of interrupting him; but all to no purpose. "Then you -see, sir, oncet upon a time an ould cock-turkey lived in the barony of -Brawny, or, let me see, was it in Inchebofin, or Tubbercleer?--faix! -an' it's myself forgets that same at the present writin',--but Jim -Gurn--you know Jim Gurn, yir honor, Jim Gurn the nailor that lives hard -by,--him that fought his black and tan t'other day 'gainst Tim Fagan's -silver-hackle,--oh! Jim is the boy that'll tell ye the _ins_ and _outs_ -of it any day yir honor wud pay him a visit, 'caze Jim's in the way of -it. Well, as I was relatin', the turkey was a parson's bird, and as -proud as Lucifer, bein' used to the best of livin'; while the gander was -only a poor _commoner_, for he was a _Roman_, and _oblidged_ to live -upon what he could get by the road-side. These two fowls, yir honor, -never could agree any how,--never could put up their horses together on -any blessed pint,--till one day a big row happened betwune them, when -the gander challenged the turkey to a steeple-chase across the country, -day and dark, for twenty-four hours. Well, to my surprise,--tho' I -wasn't there at the time, but Jim Gurn was, who gave me the whole -history,--to my surprise, the turkey didn't say _no_ to it, but was -quite agreeable all of a suddent; so away they started from Jim Gurn's -dunghill one Sunday after mass, for the gander wouldn't stir a step -afore prayers. Well, to be sure, to give the divil his due, the turkey -took the lead in fine style, and was soon clane out of sight; but the -gander kept movin' on, no ways downhearted, after him. About night-fall -it was his business to pass through an ould archway acrass the road; -and as he was stoopin' his head to get under it,--for yir honor knows a -gander will stoop his head under a doorway if it was only as high as the -moon,--who should he see comfortably sated in an ivy bush but the turkey -himself, tucked in for the night. The gander, winkin' to himself, says, -'Is it there ye are, honey?'--but he kept never mindin' him for all -that, but only walked bouldly on to his journey's end, where he arrived -safe and sound next day, afore the turkey was out of his first sleep: -'caze why, ye see, sir, a goose or a gander will travel all night; but -in respect of a turkey, once the day falls in, divil another inch of -ground he'll put his futt to, barrin' it's to roost in a tree or the -rafters of a cow-house! Oh! maybe the parson's bird wasn't ashamed of -himself! Jim Gurn says he never held his head up afterward, tho' to be -sure he hadn't long to fret, for Christmas was nigh at hand, and he had -to stand sentry by the kitchen fire one day without his body-clothes -'till he could bear it no longer; so they _dished_ him _intirely_. -_Them_ that _ett_ him said he was as tough as leather, no doubt from the -grief: but, divil's cure to him! what bisness had he to be so proud of -himself, the spalpeen!" - -Darby _at length_ came to a pause. I paused also for a minute to -understand the application of his anecdote; but it was evident: he -wished to impress me by his parable that he was fitted for the task I -had allotted him; so I inquired what money he would want on the road. - -"Maybe yir honor wouldn't think half-a-crown too much? said he -diffidently. - -"Half-a-crown!" exclaimed I, amazed at the modesty of his demand: "here -are ten shillings; and, if you be quick in your errand, I will give you -something extra on your return." - -"Musha, an' long life to yir honor!" said Darby, scraping the carpet -again; "may the grass never grow on the pathway to yir dwellin', nor a -baste or Christian ever die belongin' t' ye, barrin' it's for the use of -the kitchen!" - -"Well, now prepare for the road," said I impatiently, "and be off at -once." - -"An' that I will, sir, in the twinklin' of a bedstead; only, you see, -I've just got to run up to Tim Fallon the barber's to take the stubble -off of my chin. Tim--(you know Tim Fallon, yir honor.)--Tim won't keep -me long, anyhow, for it's late in the day, and his tongue must be dry -by this; but if ye wud hear him of a mornin, oh! it's a _trate_, for -Tim was once a play-acthur afore he grew a barber, an' by that same a -good barber he is. Did he ever _lather_ yir honor?"--I made no reply. -"After that," continued Darby, "I'll just step home and put on my Sunday -clothes, and then won't I be as fresh as a two-year ould to do yir -honor's biddin'!" - -"Well, well, lose no time," said I impatiently. - -"Sorrow a minute," said Darby: "I'll be there and back agin in the shoot -of a wishin' star. Maybe yir honor knows what a wishin' star is?"--I -shook my head. "Well, then," continued Darby, "yir honor, no doubt, has -been out o'doors of a fine starlight night?"--I nodded assent. "Well -then, agin, I'll tell ye what a wishin' star is. Did ye ever sit yir -heart upon havin' of anything sir?" "Yes," said I morosely.--"Might I -be so bould as to ax in regard to what, sir?" inquired Darby.--"Why, -in regard, as you call it, to the letter I have given you just now," -replied I; "I wish to have it delivered as quickly as possible." - -"Oh! that bein' the case, sir," said Darby somewhat disconcerted, "I'm -off at once."--"At once be it, then," said I, opening the door for -him.--"I've only, then, to give the letther, sir," said he lingeringly, -"to the gentleman at the clargy's? But ye didn't tell me whether it -was the priest or the parson he's stoppin' with."--"The parson," said -I, with all the patience I could command.--"Oh, very well, sir. God -take care of ye till I come back!" So saying, he shut the door after -him; but, before I could seat myself in my chair, he opened it again, -inquiring "If he left his hat in the drawin'-room?" The only answer -I made was by taking up the _caubeen_, which lay on the carpet, and -flinging it in his face, out of all patience. "Thank yir honor," said -Darby, and retired again, as I hoped, to proceed on his journey, -But, alas! I was mistaken. Five minutes had scarcely elapsed when he -presented himself once more, with a request that I might allow him to -take _Squib_, my pointer dog, with him as a companion. "The road's so -drary," said he, "by one's self, you know, yir honour."--"Well, take -him, in God's name," said I, hastily shutting the door after him, and -glad to be rid of him at any concession. - -I again resumed my seat, and opened the volume I had been reading; but -I had not got through more than twenty or thirty pages of marvellous -matter, when I thought I heard Darby's voice in the yard. On going to -the window, I found that it was indeed _he_, and "_as spruce as a Scotch -fir_," to use one of his own expressions. - -"Not gone yet!" exclaimed I, furiously throwing up the sash. But it -was of no use, for he replied with the most perfect coolness, "Oh, -yes, sir, I _was_ gone half an hour ago; only, you see, I've come back -for the _clieve_ that's to carry _Squib_ to the place where he'll -find divarsion in runnin' about in the pleasure-grounds hard by Squire -Markhim's inclosure; 'twould kill the baste (God pard'n me for callin' -him so, for he's more like a Christian,) to walk him so far: and maybe -I'll not bring ye home a brace or two of birds that he'll point at -without seein', and a _blue peter_ or so, if yir honor wud only just -give me a charge or two of powder and shot." - -"Do you wish to get into the hands of the police?" said I. - -"Ah! then, is it the Peelers," said Darby contemptuously, "that yir -honor manes? Divil a one o' them will be out of his _flay_-park by -the time I'm crossing the _Callas_ with Squib and Pat Fagan's ould -carbine, that he'll lend me out o' the bog-hole, where he keeps it from -the rust and the guagers: and sure, while we're oilin' it with a bit -of goose-grace, that it mayn't burst intirely the first goin' off, I -can have a bit of gossip with the ould woman in the chimly corner over -the _greeshah_, and find out everything about the gintleman in the -neighb'rhood that I'm takin' the letther to; for poor Katty Fagan, ever -since she lost the brindled heifer, and young Jemmeen her grandson, that -they cut out for a priest, and another calf that she won at a weddin' -raffle, all in the typhus s_a_son,--you recollect the typhus, yir honor?" - -"Oh, curse you and the typhus together!" said I.--"Well, an' it's myself -that never could spake a good word for it either, masther, bad look to -'t!" said Darby: "but, be that as it may, ever since that time Katty -knows more of every other body's bisness nor her own; so I'll lose -nothin' by callin' to ax her how she is at laste, thov' it is a mile or -two out o' my way." - -By this time, reader, you may conclude my power of endurance was pretty -nigh exhausted; so, raking down a pair of pistols that hung over the -fire-place, I said, "The only powder and shot, my good fellow, that I -can spare you at present, are contained in these two barrels; you are -welcome to them, and shall have them on the spot, if you do not depart -immediately!"--"Ah! then it's myself that wud _depart_ imm_a_diately, -sure enough, sir," said Darby, "if yir honor wud only pull the trigger; -but keep yir hands off o' them, masther avick, for, charge or no charge, -they might go aff and spile my beauty for ever: the divil, they say, -can fire an empty charge as well as a full one!"--"Well, then," said I, -"take your choice: _go off_ this moment, or one of these shall!"--"Oh, -then, sure that's no choice at all, at all, sir," replied Darby; "so I -suppose I must go my ways. Well, then, wid ye be wid ye, for I can't -always be wid ye. Is there anything else I can do for ye, sir, on the -road?"--"Nothing," said I: "begone!"--"Thank ye, sir," said he, and -retired. - -"Thank Heaven!" said I, "the fellow has at last set out on his -journey." So I again turned to the marvellous volume, and was about -halfway through the pedestrian exploits of Collier and his sister, -who, to use the words of the writer, "thought nothing of putting a pot -of _pink-eyes_ down to boil, and _stepping_ to the next market-town -(about nine miles distant) for a halfpenny-worth of salt (returning, -too, again) before the white horses were on the praties," when -Eileen presented herself in such a convulsion of laughter that it -was some moments before she could reply to my question of "What's -the matter?" At length, terminating with a long-drawn sigh, and her -usual "_widdy-eelish_," she replied, "Nothing's the matter, sir; -only--only--" (laughing again) "only Darby, sir."--"Darby!" exclaimed -I, "what of _him_?"--"He wants to know, sir," said she, "if you will -allow him to take a _horse_ with him."--"A _horse_!" exclaimed I; "devil -take the fellow! what does he mean?"--"Why, I mane, to be sure," said -Darby from the bottom of the stairs, at the same time at the top of -his voice, "a _horse_ from the young ash-plants in the ould garden. -I'll cut the crookedest I can find, though a straight one would do me -betther."--"What is it he wants?" said I, turning to Eileen, who was -in a perfect _kink_ of laughter.--"Oh! widdy-eelish," replied she, "I -suppose the crather means a pole to help him over the bogs."--"Let me -talk to the rascal myself," said I, going to the door in a deuce of a -rage. - -"Yir sarvant, sir," said Darby, taking his hat off and making a scrape -that cost _him_ his equilibrium, and _me_ my gravity, for I could not -but sympathise with Eileen's outrageous laughter. "Is it possible that -you are here yet?" inquired I, endeavouring to be as severe as possible. - -"Oh, never fear, sir, but I'll be off presently," said he: "my walk's -waitin' for me on the road; I'll overtake it imm_a_diately." - -"I'm sorry that you have undertaken it at all," said I in a tone of -unusual displeasure. - -"Undertaken, sir! undertake--undertaker!" said Darby rather indignantly; -"I never was an undertaker but oncet, and that was at my ould father's -funeral, when I was one of the nine bearers. That was a beautiful sight, -to be sure," said he, kindling into rapture as he proceeded; "Ah! that -was the beautiful sight, agrah! I seen many a lord's berrin', but none -to come up to that. Oh! it would do any one's heart good to see us -walkin' in _possession_ to the Abbey,--it was so d_a_cent, and all of a -piece, like a magpie, white and black from beginnin' to end! Oh! it was -a beautiful sight, anyhow," added he with a deep sigh. - -"Did you, then, rejoice in your father's death?" said I harshly. - -"Why, not exactly rejoice in his death," replied Darby, wiping away a -tear from his already suffused eye, "for he was a kind ould body to them -he liked, though he didn't sp_a_ke to me good or bad for three years -afore he died: but never mind; maybe I wasn't hearty at his wake!" - -"At his wake!" said I, with a look of disgust. - -"Yes, yir honor!" replied he after a pause of surprise,--"at his wake, -to be sure; and where can a body be so alive to fun of all sorts as at -a well-conducted dead body's wake? Isn't there smokin', and drinkin', -and story-tellin', and now and then a bit of dancin' in the other room -with the young ones, to shake off the grief, eh? And didn't I get seven -goold guineas from 'Turney Gubbins, that was one of his exec_u_tors, and -the ould mare that used to take him from town to town when he took to -_fair_ bisness, and the bracket hen that lays yir honor's eggs now, that -was the mother of all the p_a_ceable fightin' cocks in the county; and, -moreover, his white waistcoat and breeches when he was in the Yeomen, -that Ned Fallon the tailor says he'll die any day for me into a second -mournin'?" - -"And what did you with the seven guineas?" said I: "did you turn them to -any account?" - -"Oh, the Lord bless yir honor!" said Darby sheepishly; "it's very hard -to know what to do with a large sum of money now-a-days: it's dangerous -keepin' by you, you know, sir; so _I put it out to interest_!" - -"And pray what security did you get?" said I, suspecting something, from -the fellow's roguish leer. - -"Security, sir?" said Darby; "they tould me it was _collatheral_, I -think, yir honor; _collatheral_ was the word." - -"_Collateral_!" said I, somewhat surprised at his knowledge of the term. - -"Yes, sir," replied he, scratching his head with one hand, and thrusting -the other into his breeches pocket, "_I laid it out in_ HOUSES. But, for -all that, half an hour afore I die I'll have as much money as'll do me -all the days o' my life!" - -I could not but smile at the fellow's satirical humour upon his own -folly; and, as it was the first time I had ever admitted him to such -familiar converse, I patiently listened while he continued to tell me -how he "ran through his fortune" in less than three weeks; hoping, -however, that he would soon make an end of his recital, and set out with -my letter, for the day now began to decline. - -"You see, yir honor, this was the way it happened," said Darby. -"_Nawthin'_ would save me but I should give a TAY-PARTY at the Three -Blacks one evenin' after a hurlin'-match--Did yir honor ever hurl a bit? -Oh! then sure it's the finest divarsion that any one cud sit his mind -upon, barrin' it doesn't ind in a row, as mostly for the best part it -does. But never mind that,--it's fine fun, anyhow; though by it I _did_ -get this _clink_ on the nose, that made me lave off snuff-takin' ever -since as a dirty habit! Oh! a hurlin'-match is a grate sight, and many a -good clergy I've seen strip to the work. There was Father M'Gauvran--yir -honor has heard of Father M'Gauvran, that got a son an' heir for Pat Mac -Gavany, by givin' his wife an ould _surplus_ that he had by him for some -time? Oh! it would raise the cockles of yir heart to see how he _wud_ -whip a ball along. He was a _grate_ hurler, anyhow; _he_ was the boy at -the _bawke_!" - -Conceiving that Darby would not terminate before midnight (if he ever -would at all), I interrupted him, saying, "When you return, I shall -be very happy to hear the particulars of your TAY-PARTY, but for the -present I must decline the narrative. Set out, if you mean to go: when -you come back, I will listen vary attentively to the whole recital." - -"Oh, then I suppose I'm tiring yir honor! But stop a bit,--I'll be here -in the turn of a snipe;" saying which, he disappeared. I had not been -long left to my own reflections before he came up stairs, and, without -any of his previous knocks and delays, he entered my room hurriedly, -and, throwing down a small book on the table before me, said, "There, -sir; I hope _that_ will amuse you while I am away: it's an account of my -_tay-party_, by _Lame_ Kelly the poet, that wudn't get drunk that night -_acause_ he sed he wud write it afore his next sleep. Read it, masther," -said Darby; "and never mind the jokes upon me."--"Go your ways," said -I.--"I've only _one_ way to go, sir," said Darby.--"Well, then," said -I, "in God's name take _that_."--"In God's name be it, then," replied -Darby, and ultimately left me. - - - - - SHAKSPEARE PAPERS.--No. II. - - JAQUES. - - "As he passed through the fields, - and saw the animals around him,--'Ye,' said he, - 'are happy, and need not envy me that walk thus among - you burthened with myself; nor do I, ye gentle beings, - envy your felicity, for it is not the felicity of man. - I have many distresses from which ye are free; I fear - pain when I do not feel it; I sometimes shrink at evils - recollected, and sometimes start at evils anticipated. - Surely the equity of Providence has balanced peculiar - sufferings with peculiar enjoyments.' - - "With observations like these the prince - amused himself as he returned, uttering them with a - plaintive voice, yet with a look that discovered him - to feel some complacence in his own perspicacity, and - to receive some solace of the miseries of life from - consciousness of the delicacy with which he felt, and - the eloquence with which he bewailed them."--RASSELAS, - chap. ii. - -This remark of Dr. Johnson on the consolation derived by his hero from -the eloquence with which he gave vent to his complaints is perfectly -just, but just only in such cases as those of Rasselas. The misery that -can be expressed in flowing periods cannot be of more importance than -that experienced by the Abyssinian prince enclosed in the Happy Valley. -His greatest calamity was no more than that he could not leave a place -in which all the luxuries of life were at his command. But, as old -Chremes says in the Heautontimorumenos, - - "Miserum? quem minus credere 'st? - Quid reliqui 'st, quin habeat, quæ quidem in homine dicuntur bona? - Parentes, patriam incolumem, amicos, genu', cognatos, divitias: - Atque hæc perinde sunt ut illius animus qui ea possidet; - Qui uti scit, ei bona; illi, qui non utitur rectè, mala."[97] - -On which, as - - "Plain truth, dear Bentley, needs no arts of speech," - -I cannot do better than transcribe the commentary of Hickie, or some -other grave expositor from whose pages he has transferred it to his own. -"'Tis certain that the real enjoyment arising from external advantages -depends wholly upon the situation of the mind of him who possesses them; -for if he chance to labour under any secret anguish, this destroys all -relish; or, if he know not how to use them for valuable purposes, they -are so far from being of any service to him, that they often turn to -real misfortunes." It is of no consequence that this profound reflection -is nothing to the purpose in the place where it appears, because Chremes -is not talking of any secret anguish, but of the use or abuse made of -advantages according to the disposition of the individual to whom they -have been accorded; and the anguish of Clinia was by no means secret. -He feared the perpetual displeasure of his father, and knew not whether -absence might not have diminished or alienated the affections of the -lady on whose account he had abandoned home and country; but the general -proposition of the sentence cannot be denied. A "fatal remembrance"--to -borrow a phrase from one of the most beautiful of Moore's melodies--may -render a life, apparently abounding in prosperity, wretched and unhappy, -as the vitiation of a single humour of the eye casts a sickly and -unnatural hue over the gladsome meadow, or turns to a lurid light the -brilliancy of the sunniest skies. - -Rasselas and Jaques have no secret anguish to torment them, no real -cares to disturb the even current of their tempers. To get rid of the -prince first:--His sorrow is no more than that of the starling in the -Sentimental Journey. He cannot get out. He is discontented, because he -has not the patience of Wordsworth's nuns, who fret not in their narrow -cells; or of Wordsworth's muse, which murmurs not at being cribbed and -confined to a sonnet. He wants the philosophy of that most admirable of -all jail-ditties,--and will not reflect that - - "Every island is a prison, - Close surrounded by the sea; - Kings and princes, for that reason, - Prisoners are as well as we." - -And as his calamity is, after all, very tolerable,--as many a sore heart -or a wearied mind, buffeting about amid the billows and breakers of the -external world, would feel but too happy to exchange conditions with him -in his safe haven of rest,--it is no wonder that the weaving of sonorous -sentences of easily soothed sorrow should be the extent of the mental -afflictions of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia. - -Who or what Jaques was before he makes his appearance in the forest, -Shakspeare does not inform us,--any farther than that he had been a -_roué_ of considerable note, as the Duke tells him, when he proposes to - - "Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, - If they will patiently receive my medicine. - _Duke._ Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. - _Jaques._ What, for a counter, would I do but good? - _Duke._ Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin; - For thou thyself hast been a libertine - As sensual as the brutish sting itself; - And all the embossed sores and headed evils - That thou with licence of free foot hast caught, - Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world." - -This, and that he was one of the three or four loving lords who put -themselves into voluntary exile with the old Duke, leaving their lands -and revenues to enrich the new one, who therefore gave them good leave -to wander, is all we know about him, until he is formally announced to -us as the melancholy Jaques. The very announcement is a tolerable proof -that he is not soul-stricken in any material degree. When Rosalind tells -him that he is considered to be a melancholy fellow, he is hard put to -it to describe in what his melancholy consists. "I have," he says, - - "Neither the scholar's melancholy, which - Is emulation; nor the musician's, which is - Fantastical; nor the courtier's which is proud; - Nor the soldier's, - Which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which - Is politic; nor the lady's, which is nice; - Nor the lover's, which is all these: but it is - A melancholy of mine own, compounded - Of many simples, extracted from many objects, - And indeed - The sundry contemplation of my travels, - In which my often rumination wraps me - In a most humorous sadness."[98] - -He is nothing more than an idle gentleman given to musing, and making -invectives against the affairs of the world, which are more remarkable -for the poetry of their style and expression than the pungency of their -satire. His famous description of the seven ages of man is that of a -man who has seen but little to complain of in his career through life. -The sorrows of his infant are of the slightest kind, and he notes that -it is taken care of in a nurse's lap. The griefs of his schoolboy are -confined to the necessity of going to school; and he, too, has had an -anxious hand to attend to him. His shining morning face reflects the -superintendence of one--probably a mother--interested in his welfare. -The lover is tortured by no piercing pangs of love, his woes evaporating -themselves musically in a ballad of his own composition, written not to -his mistress, but fantastically addressed to her eyebrow. The soldier -appears in all the pride and the swelling hopes of his spirit-stirring -trade, - - "Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, - Seeking the bubble reputation - Even in the cannon's mouth." - -The fair round belly of the justice lined with good capon lets us know -how he has passed his life. He is full of ease, magisterial authority, -and squirely dignity. The lean and slippered pantaloon, and the dotard -sunk into second childishness, have suffered only the common lot of -humanity, without any of the calamities that embitter the unavoidable -malady of old age.[99] All the characters in Jaques's sketch are well -taken care of. The infant is nursed; the boy educated; the youth -tormented with no greater cares than the necessity of hunting after -rhymes to please the ear of a lady, whose love sits so lightly upon him -as to set him upon nothing more serious than such a self-amusing task; -the man in prime of life is engaged in gallant deeds, brave in action, -anxious for character, and ambitious of fame; the man in declining years -has won the due honours of his rank, he enjoys the luxuries of the -table and dispenses the terrors of the bench; the man of age still more -advanced is well to do in the world. If his shank be shrunk, it is not -without hose and slipper,--if his eyes be dim, they are spectacled,--if -his years have made him lean, they have gathered for him wherewithal to -fatten the pouch by his side. And when this strange eventful history is -closed by the penalties paid by men who live too long, Jaques does not -tell us that the helpless being, - - "Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything," - -is left unprotected in his helplessness. - -Such pictures of life do not proceed from a man very heavy at heart. Nor -can it be without design that they are introduced into this especial -place. The moment before, the famished Orlando has burst in upon the -sylvan meal of the Duke, brandishing a naked sword, demanding with -furious threat food for himself and his helpless companion, - - "Oppressed with two weak evils, age and hunger." - -The Duke, struck with his earnest appeal, cannot refrain from comparing -the real suffering which he witnesses in Orlando with that which is -endured by himself and his "co-mates, and partners in exile." Addressing -Jaques, he says, - - "Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy. - This wide and universal theatre - Presents more woful pageants than the scene - Wherein we play in."[100] - -But the spectacle and the comment upon it lightly touch Jaques, and -he starts off at once into a witty and poetic comparison of the real -drama of the world with the mimic drama of the stage, in which, with -the sight of well-nurtured youth driven to the savage desperation of -periling his own life, and assailing that of others,--and of weakly -old age lying down in the feeble but equally resolved desperation of -dying by the wayside, driven to this extremity by sore fatigue and -hunger,--he diverts himself and his audience, whether in the forest or -theatre, on the stage or in the closet, with graphic descriptions of -human life; not one of them, proceeding as they do from the lips of the -_melancholy_ Jaques, presenting a single point on which true melancholy -can dwell. Mourning over what cannot be avoided must be in its essence -common-place: and nothing has been added to the lamentations over the -ills brought by the flight of years since Moses, the man of God,[101] -declared the concluding period of protracted life to be a period of -labour and sorrow;--since Solomon, or whoever else writes under the -name of the Preacher, in a passage which, whether it is inspired or -not, is a passage of exquisite beauty, warned us to provide in youth, -"while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh when thou shalt -say, I have no pleasure in them; while the sun, or the light, or the -moon, or the stars be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the -rain: in the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the -strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they -are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened, and the -doors shall be shut in the streets, when the sound of the grinding -is low, and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the -daughters of music shall be brought low; also when they shall be -afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and the -almond-tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burthen, -and desire shall fail: because man goeth to his long home, and the -mourners go about the streets: or ever the silver cord be loosed, or -the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, -or the wheel broken at the cistern;"--or, to make a shorter quotation, -since Homer summed up all these ills by applying to old age the epithet -of [Greek: lygros],--a word which cannot be translated, but the force -of which must be felt. Abate these unavoidable misfortunes, and the -catalogue of Jaques is that of happy conditions. In his visions there -is no trace of the child doomed to wretchedness before its very birth; -no hint that such a thing could occur as its being made an object of -calculation, one part medical, three parts financial, to the starveling -surgeon, whether by the floating of the lungs, or other test equally -fallacious and fee-producing, the miserable mother may be convicted of -doing that which, before she had attempted, all that is her soul of -woman must have been torn from its uttermost roots, when in an agony of -shame and dread the child that was to have made her forget her labour -was committed to the cesspool. No hint that the days of infancy should -be devoted to the damnation of a factory, or to the tender mercies of a -parish beadle. No hint that philosophy should come forward armed with -the panoply offensive and defensive of logic and eloquence, to prove -that the inversion of all natural relations was just and wise,--that the -toil of childhood was due to the support of manhood,--that those hours, -the very labours of which even the etymologists give to recreation, -should be devoted to those wretched drudgeries which seem to split -the heart of all but those who derive from them blood-stained money, -or blood-bedabbled applause. Jaques sees not Greensmith squeezing his -children by the throat until they die. He hears not the supplication of -the hapless boy begging his still more hapless father for a moment's -respite, ere the fatal handkerchief is twisted round his throat by the -hand of him to whom he owed his being. Jaques thinks not of the baby -deserted on the step of the inhospitable door, of the shame of the -mother, of the disgrace of the parents, of the misery of the forsaken -infant. His boy is at school, his soldier in the breach, his elder on -the justice-seat. Are these the woes of life? Is there no neglected -creature left to himself or to the worse nurture of others, whose trade -it is to corrupt,--who will teach him what was taught to swaggering Jack -Chance, found on Newgate steps, and educated at the venerable seminary -of St. Giles's Pound, where - - "They taught him to drink, and to thieve, and fight, - And everything else but to read and write." - -Is there no stripling short of commons, but abundant in the supply -of the strap or the cudgel?--no man fighting through the world in -fortuneless struggles, and occupied by cares or oppressed by wants more -stringent than those of love?--or in love itself does the current of -that bitter passion never run less smooth than when sonnets to a lady's -eyebrow are the prime objects of solicitude?--or may not even he who -began with such sonneteering have found something more serious and sad, -something more heart-throbbing and soul-rending, in the progress of his -passion? Is the soldier melancholy in the storm and whirlwind of war? -Is the gallant confronting of the cannon a matter to be complained of? -The dolorous flight, the trampled battalion, the broken squadron, the -lost battle, the lingering wound, the ill-furnished hospital, the unfed -blockade, hunger and thirst, and pain, and fatigue, and mutilation, and -cold, and rout, and scorn, and slight,--services neglected, unworthy -claims preferred, life wasted, or honour tarnished,--are all passed by! -In peaceful life we have no deeper misfortune placed before us than that -it is not unusual that a justice of peace may be prosy in remark and -trite in illustration. Are there no other evils to assail us through the -agony of life? And when the conclusion comes, how far less tragic is the -portraiture of mental imbecility, if considered as a state of misery -than as one of comparative happiness, as escaping a still worse lot! -Crabbe is sadder far than Jaques, when, after his appalling description -of the inmates of a workhouse,--(what would Crabbe have written -_now_?)--he winds up by showing to us amid its victims two persons as -being - - "_happier_ far than they, - The moping idiot, and the madman gay." - -If what he here sums up as the result of his life's observations on -mankind be all that calls forth the melancholy of the witty and eloquent -speaker, he had not much to complain of. Mr. Shandy lamenting in sweetly -modulated periods, because his son has been christened Tristram instead -of Trismegistus, is as much an object of condolence. Jaques has just -seen the aspect of famine, and heard the words of despair; the Duke -has pointed out to him the consideration that more woful and practical -calamities exist than even the exile of princes and the downfall of -lords; and he breaks off into a light strain of satire, fit only for -jesting comedy. Trim might have rebuked him as he rebuked the prostrate -Mr. Shandy, by reminding him that there are other things to make us -melancholy in the world: and nobody knew it better, or could say it -better, than he in whose brain was minted the hysteric passion of Lear -choked by his button,--the farewell of victorious Othello to all the -pomp, pride, and circumstance of glorious war,--the tears of Richard -over the submission of roan Barbary to Bolingbroke,--the demand of Romeo -that the Mantuan druggist should supply him with such soon-speeding gear -that will rid him of hated life - - "As violently as hasty powder fired - Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb,"-- - -the desolation of Antony,--the mourning of Henry over sire slain by -son, and son by sire,--or the despair of Macbeth. I say nothing of the -griefs of Constance, or Isabel, or Desdemona, or Juliet, or Ophelia, -because in the sketches of Jaques he passes by all allusion to women; a -fact which of itself is sufficient to prove that his melancholy was but -in play,--was nothing more than what Arthur remembered when he was in -France, where - - "Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, - Only for wantonness." - -Shakespeare well knew that there is no true pathetic, nothing that can -permanently lacerate the heart, and embitter the speech, unless a woman -be concerned. It is the legacy left us by Eve. The tenor of man's woe, -says Milton, with a most ungallant and grisly pun, is still from _wo_-man -to begin; and he who will give himself a few moments to reflect will -find that the stern trigamist is right. On this, however, I shall not -dilate. I may perhaps have something to say, as we go on, of the ladies -of Shakspeare. For the present purpose, it is enough to remark with -Trim, that there are many real griefs to make a man lie down and cry, -without troubling ourselves with those which are put forward by the -poetic mourner in the forest of Arden. - -Different indeed is the sight set before the eyes of Adam in the great -poem just referred to, when he is told to look upon the miseries -which the fall of man has entailed upon his descendants. Far other -than the scenes that flit across this melancholy man by profession -are those evoked by Michael in the visionary lazar-house. It would be -ill-befitting, indeed, that the merry note of the sweet bird warbling -freely in the glade should be marred by discordant sounds of woe, -cataloguing the dreary list of disease, - - "All maladies - Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms - Of heartsick agony, all feverous kinds, - Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, - Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs, - Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy, - Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, - Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums;" - -while, amid the dire tossing and deep groans of the sufferers, - - "----Despair - Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch; - And over them triumphant Death his dart - Shook, but delayed to strike." - -And equally ill-befitting would be any serious allusion to those -passions and feelings which in their violence or their anguish -render the human bosom a lazar-house filled with maladies of the -mind as racking and as wasting as those of the body, and call forth -a supplication for the releasing blow of Death as the final hope, -with an earnestness as desperate, and cry as loud as ever arose from -the tenement, sad, noisome, and dark, which holds the joint-racked -victims of physical disease. Such themes should not sadden the festive -banquet in the forest. The Duke and his co-mates and partners in exile, -reconciled to their present mode of life, ["I would not change it," says -Amiens, speaking, we may suppose, the sentiments of all,] and successful -in having plucked the precious jewel, content, from the head of ugly and -venomous Adversity, are ready to bestow their woodland fare upon real -suffering, but in no mood to listen to the heart-rending descriptions of -sorrows graver than those which form a theme for the discourses which -Jaques in mimic melancholy contributes to their amusement. - -Shakspeare designed him to be a maker of fine sentences,--a dresser -forth in sweet language of the ordinary common-places or the -common-place mishaps of mankind, and he takes care to show us that -he did not intend him for anything beside. With what admirable art -he is confronted with Touchstone. He enters merrily laughing at the -pointless philosophising of the fool in the forest. His lungs crow like -chanticleer when he hears him moralizing over his dial, and making the -deep discovery that ten o'clock has succeeded nine, and will be followed -by eleven. When Touchstone himself appears, we do not find in his own -discourse any touches of such deep contemplation. He is shrewd, sharp, -worldly, witty, keen, gibing, observant. It is plain that he has been -mocking Jaques; and, as is usual, the mocked thinks himself the mocker. -If one has moralized the spectacle of a wounded deer into a thousand -similes, comparing his weeping into the stream to the conduct of -worldlings in giving in their testaments the sum of more to that which -had too much,--his abandonment, to the parting of the flux of companions -from misery,--the sweeping by of the careless herd full of the pasture, -to the desertion of the poor and broken bankrupt by the fat and greasy -citizens,--and so forth; if such have been the common-places of Jaques, -are they not fitly matched by the common-places of Touchstone upon his -watch? It is as high a stretch of fancy that brings the reflection how - - "----from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, - And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, - And thereby hangs a tale," - -which is scoffed at by Jaques, as that which dictates his own -moralizings on the death of the deer. The motley fool is as wise as the -melancholy lord whom he is parodying. The shepherd Corin, who replies -to the courtly quizzing of Touchstone by such apophthegms as that "it -is the property of rain to wet, and of fire to burn," is unconsciously -performing the same part to the clown, as _he_ had been designedly -performing to Jaques. Witty nonsense is answered by dull nonsense, as -the emptiness of poetry had been answered by the emptiness of prose. -There was nothing sincere in the lamentation over the wounded stag. It -was only used as a peg on which to hang fine concepts. Had Falstaff -seen the deer, his imagination would have called up visions of haunches -and pasties, preluding an everlasting series of cups of sack among the -revel riot of boon companions, and he would have instantly ordered -its throat to be cut. If it had fallen in the way of Friar Lawrence, -the mild-hearted man of herbs would have endeavoured to extract the -arrow, heal the wound, and let the hart ungalled go free. Neither would -have thought the hairy fool a subject for reflections, which neither -relieved the wants of man nor the pains of beast. Jaques complains of -the injustice and cruelty of killing deer, but unscrupulously sits down -to dine upon venison, and sorrows over the sufferings of the native -burghers of the forest city, without doing anything further than amusing -himself with rhetorical flourishes drawn from the contemplation of the -pain which he witnesses with professional coolness and unconcern. - -It is evident, in short, that the happiest days of his life are those -which he is spending in the forest. His raking days are over, and he is -tired of city dissipation. He has shaken hands with the world, finding, -with Cowley, that "he and it would never agree." To use an expression -somewhat vulgar, he has had his fun for his money; and he thinks the -bargain so fair and conclusive on both sides, that he has no notion of -opening another. His mind is relieved of a thousand anxieties which -beset him in the court, and he breathes freely in the forest. The iron -has not entered into his soul; nothing has occurred to chase sleep from -his eyelids; and his fantastic reflections are, as he himself takes -care to tell us, but general observations on the ordinary and outward -manners and feelings of mankind,--a species of taxing which - - "----like a wild-goose flies, - Unclaim'd of any man." - -Above all, in having abandoned station, and wealth, and country, to join -the faithful few who have in evil report clung manfully to their prince, -he knows that he has played a noble and an honourable part; and they -to whose lot it may have fallen to experience the happiness of having -done a generous, disinterested, or self-denying action,--or sacrificed -temporary interests to undying principle,--or shown to the world -without, that what are thought to be its great advantages can be flung -aside, or laid aside, when they come in collision with the feelings and -passions of the world within,--will be perfectly sure that Jaques, reft -of land, and banished from court, felt himself exalted in his own eyes, -and therefore easy of mind, whether he was mourning in melodious blank -verse, or weaving jocular parodies on the canzonets of the good-humoured -Amiens. - -He was happy "under the greenwood tree." Addison I believe it is who -says, that all mankind have an instinctive love of country and woodland -scenery, and he traces it to a sort of dim recollection imprinted upon -us of our original haunt, the garden of Eden. It is at all events -certain, that, from the days when the cedars of Lebanon supplied images -to the great poets of Jerusalem, to that in which the tall tree haunted -Wordsworth "as a passion," the forest has caught a strong hold of the -poetic mind. It is with reluctance that I refrain from quoting; but the -passages of surpassing beauty which crowd upon me from all times and -languages are too numerous. I know not which to exclude, and I have -not room for all; let me then take a bit of prose from one who never -indulged in poetry, and I think I shall make it a case in point. In a -little book called "Statistical Sketches of Upper Canada, for the use of -Emigrants, by a Backwoodsman," now lying before me, the author, after -describing the field-sports in Canada with a precision and a _goût_ -to be derived only from practice and zeal, concludes a chapter, most -appropriately introduced by a motto from the Lady of the Lake, - - "'Tis merry, 'tis merry in good greenwood, - When the mavis and merle are singing, - When the deer sweep by, and the hounds are in cry, - And the hunter's horn is ringing," - -by saying, - -"It is only since writing the above that I fell in with the first volume -of Moore's Life of Lord Edward Fitzgerald; and I cannot describe the -pleasure I received from reading his vivid, spirited, and accurate -description of the feelings he experienced on first taking on him the -life of a hunter. At an earlier period of life than Lord Edward had -then attained, I made my debut in the forest, and first assumed the -blanket-cloak and the rifle, the moccasin and the snowshoe; and the -ecstatic feeling of Arab-like independence, and the utter contempt for -the advantage and restrictions of civilization, which he describes, I -then felt in its fullest power. And even now, when my way off life, -like Macbeth's, is falling 'into the sere, the yellow leaf,' and -when a tropical climate, privation, disease, and thankless toil are -combining with advancing years to unstring a frame the strength of -which once set hunger, cold, and fatigue at defiance, and to undermine a -constitution that once appeared iron-bound, still I cannot lie down by -a fire in the woods without the elevating feeling which I experienced -formerly returning, though in a diminished degree. This must be human -nature;--for it is an undoubted fact, that no man who associates with -and follows the pursuits of the Indian, for any length of time, ever -voluntarily returns to civilized society. - -"What a companion in the woods Lord Edward must have been! and how -shocking to think that, with talents which would have made him at once -the idol and the ornament of his profession, and affections which must -have rendered him an object of adoration in all the relations of private -life,--with honour, with courage, with generosity, with every unit -that can at once ennoble and endear,--he should never have been taught -that there is a higher principle of action than the mere impulse of -the passions,--that he should never have learned, before plunging his -country into blood and disorder, to have weighed the means he possessed -with the end he proposed, or the problematical good with the certain -evil!--that he should have had Tom Paine for a tutor in religion and -politics, and Tom Moore for a biographer, to hold up as a pattern, -instead of warning, the errors and misfortunes of a being so noble,--to -subserve the revolutionary purposes of a faction, who, like Samson, are -pulling down a fabric which will bury both them and their enemies under -it." - -Never mind the aberrations of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, the religion or -the politics of Tom Paine, or the biography of Tom Moore. On all these -matters I may hold my own opinions, but they are not wanted now; but -have we not here the feelings of Jaques? Here are the gloomy expressions -of general sorrow over climate, privation, disease, thankless toil, -advancing years, unstrung frame. But here also we have ecstatic -emotions of Arab-like independence, generous reflections upon political -adversaries, and high-minded adherence to the views and principles which -in his honour and conscience he believed to be in all circumstances -inflexibly right, coming from the heart of a forest. The Backwoodsman is -Dunlop; and is he, in spite of this sad-sounding passage, melancholy? -Not he, in good sooth. The very next page to that which I have quoted is -a description of the pleasant mode of travelling in Canada, before the -march of improvement had made it comfortable and convenient.[102] - -"But your march of improvement is a sore destroyer of the romantic -and picturesque. A gentleman about to take such a journey now-a-days, -orders his servant to pack his portmanteau, and put it on board the -John Molson, or any of his family; and at the stated hour he marches -on board, the bell rings, the engine is put in motion, and away you go -smoking, and splashing, and walloping along, at the rate of ten knots -an hour, in the ugliest species of craft that ever disfigured a marine -landscape." - -Jaques was just as woe-begone as the Tyger, and no more. I remember when -he--Dunlop I mean, not Jaques--used to laugh at the phrenologists of -Edinburgh for saying, after a careful admeasurement, that his skull in -all points was exactly that of Shakspeare,--I suppose he will be equally -inclined to laugh when he finds who is the double an old companion has -selected for him. But no matter. His melancholy passes away not more -rapidly than that of Jaques; and I venture to say that the latter, if he -were existing in flesh and blood, would have no scruple in joining the -doctor this moment over the bowl of punch which I am sure he is brewing, -has brewed, or is about to brew, on the banks of Huron or Ontario. - -Whether he would or not, he departs from the stage with the grace and -easy elegance of a gentleman in heart and manners. He joins his old -antagonist the usurping Duke in his fallen fortunes; he had spurned -him in his prosperity: his restored friend he bequeaths to his former -honour, deserved by his patience and his virtue,--he compliments Oliver -on his restoration to his land, and love, and great allies,--wishes -Silvius joy of his long-sought and well-earned marriage,--cracks -upon Touchstone one of those good-humoured jests to which men of the -world on the eve of marriage must laughingly submit,--and makes his -bow. Same sage critics have discovered as a great geographical fault -in Shakspeare, that he introduces the tropical lion and serpent into -Arden, which, it appears, they have ascertained to lie in some temperate -zone. I wish them joy of their sagacity. Monsters more wonderful are -to be found in that forest; for never yet, since water ran and tall -tree bloomed, were there gathered together such a company as those who -compose the _dramatis personæ_ of "As You Like It." All the prodigies -spawned by Africa, "_leonum arida nutrix_," might well have teemed in -a forest, wherever situate, that was inhabited by such creatures as -Rosalind, Touchstone, and Jaques. - - * * * * * - - * * As to the question which opened these Papers,--why, I must - * leave it to the jury. Is the jesting, revelling, rioting - Falstaff, broken of fortunes, luckless in life, sunk in habits, - buffeting with the discreditable part of the world, or the - melancholy, mourning, complaining Jaques, honourable of conduct, - high in moral position, fearless of the future, and lying in the - forest away from trouble,--which of them, I say, feels more the - load of care? I think Shakspeare well knew, and depicted them - accordingly. But I must leave it to my readers, _si qui sunt_. - W. M. - -[97] It may be thus attempted in something like the metre of the - original, which the learned know by the sounding name of - Tetrameter Iambic Acatalectic: - - "Does Clinia talk of misery? Believe his idle tale who can? - What hinders it that he should have whate'er is counted good for - man,-- - His father's home, his native land, with wealth, and friends, and - kith and kin? - But all these blessings will be prized according to the mind - within: - Well used, the owner finds them good; if badly used, he deems them - ill. - _Cl._ Nay, but his sire was always stern, and even now I fear him - still," &c. - -[98] This is printed as prose, but assuredly it is blank verse. - The alteration of a syllable or two, which in the corrupt state of - the text of these plays is the slightest of all possible critical - licenses, would make it run perfectly smooth. At all events, in the - second line, "emulation" should be "emulative," to make it agree - with the other clauses of the sentence. The courtier's melancholy is - not _pride_, nor the soldier's _ambition_, &c. The adjective is used - throughout,--_fantastical_, _proud_, _ambitious_, _politic_, _nice_. - -[99] "Senectus ipsa est morbus."--Ter. Phorm. iv. i. 9. - -[100] Query _on_? "Where_in_ we play _in_" is tautological. "Wherein we - play _on_," _i.e._ "continue to play." - -[101] Psalm xc. "A prayer of Moses, the man of God," v. 10. - -[102] Formerly, that is to say, previous to the peace of 1815, a journey -between Quebec and Sandwich was an undertaking considerably more tedious -and troublesome than the voyage from London to Quebec. In the first -place, the commissariat of the expedition had to be cared for; and to -that end every gentleman who was liable to travel had, as a part of his -appointments, a provision basket, which held generally a cold round of -beef, tin plates and drinking-cups, tea, sugar, biscuits, and about a -gallon of brandy. These, with your wardrobe and a camp-bed, were stowed -away in a batteau, or flat-bottomed boat; and off you set with a crew -of seven stout, light-hearted, jolly, lively Canadians, who sung their -boat-songs all the time they could spare from smoking their pipe. You -were accompanied by a fleet of similar boats, called a brigade, the -crews of which assisted each other up the rapids, and at night put into -some creek, bay, or uninhabited island, where fires were lighted, tents -made of the sails, and the song, the laugh, and the shout were heard, -with little intermission, all the night through; and if you had the -felicity to have among the party a fifer or a fiddler, the dance was -sometimes kept up all night,--for, if a Frenchman has a fiddle, sleep -ceases to be a necessary of life with him. This mode of travelling -was far from being unpleasant, for there was something of romance and -adventure in it; and the scenes you witnessed, both by night and day, -were picturesque in the highest degree. But it was tedious; for you -were in great luck if you arrived at your journey's end in a month; and -if the weather were boisterous, or the wind a-head, you might be an -indefinite time longer. - - - - - FAMILY STORIES.--No. V.-- - HON. MR. SUCKLE-THUMBKIN'S STORY. - - THE EXECUTION. - A SPORTING ANECDOTE. - - My Lord Tomnoddy got up one day; - It was half after two, - He had nothing to do, - So his lordship rang for his cabriolet. - - Tiger Tim - Was clean of limb, - His boots were polished, his jacket was trim; - With a very smart tie in his smart cravat, - And a smart cockade on the top of his hat; - Tallest of boys, or shortest of men, - He stood in his stockings just four foot ten; - And he ask'd, as he held the door on the swing, - "Pray, did your lordship please to ring?" - - My Lord Tomnoddy he raised his head, - And thus to Tiger Tim he said, - "Malibran's dead, - Duvernay's fled, - Taglioni has not yet arriv'd in her stead; - Tiger Tim, come tell me true, - What may a nobleman find to do?" - - Tim look'd up, and Tim look'd down, - He paus'd, and he put on a thoughtful frown, - And he held up his hat, and peep'd in the crown, - He bit his lip, and he scratch'd his head, - He let go the handle, and thus he said, - As the door, releas'd, behind him bang'd, - "An't please you, my lord, there's a man to be hang'd!" - - My Lord Tomnoddy jump'd up at the news, - "Run to M'Fuze, - And Lieutenant Tregooze, - And run to Sir Carnaby Jenks, of the Blues. - Rope-dancers a score - I've seen before-- - Madame Sacchi, Antonio, and Master Blackmore; - But to see a man swing - At the end of a string, - With his neck in a noose, will be quite a new thing!" - - My Lord Tomnoddy stept into his cab-- - Dark rifle green, with a lining of drab; - Through street, and through square, - His high-trotting mare, - Like one of Ducrow's, goes pawing the air. - Adown Piccadilly and Waterloo Place - Went the high-trotting mare at a deuce of a pace; - She produc'd some alarm, - But did no great harm, - Save fright'ning a nurse with a child on her arm, - Spattering with clay - Two urchins at play, - Knocking down--very much to the sweeper's dismay-- - An old woman who wouldn't get out of the way, - And upsetting a stall - Near Exeter Hall, - Which made all the pious Church-Mission folks squall. - But eastward afar, - Through Temple Bar, - My Lord Tomnoddy directs his car; - Never heeding their squalls, - Or their calls, or their bawls, - He passes by Waithman's Emporium for shawls, - And, merely just catching a glimpse of St. Paul's, - Turns down the Old Bailey, - Where, in front of the jail, he - Pulls up at the door of the gin-shop, and gaily - Cries, "What must I fork out to-night, my trump, - For the whole first floor of the Magpie and Stump?" - - * * * * * - - The clock strikes Twelve--it is dark midnight-- - Yet the Magpie and Stump is one blaze of light. - The parties are met; - The tables are set; - There is "punch," "cold _without_," "hot _with_," "heavy wet," - Ale-glasses and jugs, - And rummers and mugs, - And sand on the floor, without carpets or rugs, - Cold fowl and cigars, - Pickled onions in jars, - Welsh rabbits, and kidneys--rare work for the jaws!-- - And very large lobsters, with very large claws; - And there is M'Fuze, - And Lieutenant Tregooze, - And there is Sir Carnaby Jenks of the Blues, - All come to see a man "die in his shoes!" - - The clock strikes One! - Supper is done, - And Sir Carnaby Jenks is full of his fun, - Singing "Jolly companions every one!" - My Lord Tomnoddy - Is drinking gin-toddy, - And laughing at ev'ry thing, and ev'ry body. - The clock strikes Two!--and the clock strikes Three! - --"Who so merry, so merry as we?" - Save Captain M'Fuze, - Who is taking a snooze, - While Sir Carnaby Jenks is busy at work, - Blacking his nose with a piece of burnt cork. - - The clock strikes Four! - Round the debtors' door - Are gather'd a couple of thousand or more; - As many await - At the press-yard gate, - Till slowly its folding doors open, and straight - The mob divides, and between their ranks - A waggon comes loaded with posts and with planks. - - The clock strikes Five! - The sheriffs arrive, - And the crowd is so great that the street seems alive; - But Sir Carnaby Jenks - Blinks, and winks, - A candle burns down in the socket, and stinks. - Lieutenant Tregooze - Is dreaming of Jews, - And acceptances all the bill-brokers refuse; - My Lord Tomnoddy - Has drunk all his toddy, - And just as the dawn is beginning to peep, - The whole of the party are fast asleep. - - Sweetly, oh! sweetly, the morning breaks, - With roseate streaks, - Like the first faint blush on a maiden's cheeks; - Seem'd as that mild and clear blue sky - Smil'd upon all things far and nigh, - All--save the wretch condemn'd to die! - Alack! that ever so fair a Sun - As that which its course has now begun, - Should rise on such scene of misery! - Should gild with rays so light and free - That dismal, dark-frowning Gallows tree! - - And hark!--a sound comes big with fate, - The clock from St. Sepulchre's tower strikes--Eight!-- - List to that low funereal bell: - It is tolling, alas! a living man's knell! - And see!--from forth that opening door - They come--He steps that threshold o'er - Who never shall tread upon threshold more. - --God! 'tis a fearsome thing to see - That pale wan man's mute agony, - The glare of that wild despairing eye, - Now bent on the crowd, now turn'd to the sky, - As though 'twere scanning, in doubt and in fear, - The path of the Spirit's unknown career; - - Those pinion'd arms, those hands that ne'er - Shall be lifted again,--not ev'n in prayer; - That heaving chest!---- Enough--'tis done! - The bolt has fallen!--the Spirit is gone-- - For weal or for woe is known to but One! - Oh! 'twas a fearsome sight! Ah me! - A deed to shudder at,--not to see. - - Again that clock!--'tis time, 'tis time! - The hour is past:--with its earliest chime - The cord is sever'd, the lifeless clay - By "dungeon villains" is borne away: - Nine!--'twas the last concluding stroke! - And then--my Lord Tomnoddy awoke! - And Tregooze and Sir Carnaby Jenks arose, - And Captain M'Fuze, with the black on his nose; - And they stared at each other, as much as to say - "Hollo! Hollo! - Here's a Rum Go! - Why, Captain!--my Lord!--Here's the Devil to pay! - The fellow's been cut down and taken away! - What's to be done? - We've miss'd all the fun! - Why, they'll laugh at, and quiz us all over the town, - We are all of us done so uncommonly brown!" - - What _was_ to be done?--'twas perfectly plain - That they could not well hang the man over again:-- - What _was_ to be done?--The man was dead!-- - Nought _could_ be done--nought could be said; - So--my Lord Tomnoddy went home to bed! - - - - - EPIGRAM. - - 'Tis strange, amid the many trades - By which men gather riches, - That ridicule should most attach - To those who make our breeches! - But so it is; yet, as they sew, - Rich is the harvest made: - Then call not theirs, unseemly wags! - A _so-so_ sort of trade. - R. J. - - [Illustration: The Romance of a Day] - - - - - THE ROMANCE OF A DAY. - A PASSAGE IN THE LIFE OF AN ADVENTURER. - - WITH AN ILLUSTRATION BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. - - -When things are at the worst, they are sure to mend, says the old adage; -and the hero of the following narrative is a case in point. Dick Diddler -was a distant connexion, by the mother's side, of the famous Jeremy, -immortalized by Kenny. He was a shrewd, reckless adventurer, gifted -with an elastic conscience that would stretch like Indian-rubber, and a -genius for raising the wind unsurpassed by Æolus himself. At the period -to which this tale refers, he had dissipated at the minor West-end -hells, and elsewhere, the last farthing of a pittance which he inherited -from his father; and was considerably in arrears with his landlady, a -waspish gentlewoman who rented what she complacently termed "an airy -house" in the windiest quarter of Camden Town. This was embarrassing; -but Dick was not one to despair. He had high animal spirits, knowledge -of the world, imperturbable self-possession, good exterior, plausible -address, and a modesty which he felt persuaded would never stand in the -way of his advancement. - -Thousands of London adventurers, it has been observed, rise in the -morning without knowing how they shall provide a meal for the day. Our -hero was just now in this predicament, for he had not even the means -of procuring a breakfast. Something, however, must be done, and that -immediately, so he applied himself to a cracked bell which stood on -his ill-conditioned table; and, while waiting his landlady's answer to -the tintinnabulary summons, occupied himself by casting a scrutinizing -glance at his outer Adam. Alas! there was little here to gratify the eye -of taste and gentility! His coat was in that peculiar state denominated -"seedy," his linen was as yellow as a sea-sick cockney, and his trousers -evinced tokens of an antiquity better qualified to inspire reverence -than admiration. - -Just as he had completed his survey, his landlady entered the room, -accompanied by her first-born,--a hopeful youth, with a fine expanse of -mouth calculated seriously to perplex a quartern loaf. Dick perused her -features attentively, and thought he had never before seen her look so -ugly. But this of course: Venus herself would look a fright, if she came -to dun for money. - -"Ah, poppet, is that you?" exclaimed Dick, affectionately patting the -urchin's head, by way of an agreeable commencement to the conversation; -"Why, how the dear boy grows! Blessings on his pretty face: he's the -very image of his Ma!" - -"Come, come, Mr. Diddler," replied Mrs. Dibbs, "that language won't -do no longer. You've been blessing little Tom twice a day ever since -you got into my books, but I'm not going to take out my account in -blessings. Blessings won't pay my milk-score, so I must have my -money,--and this very day too, for I've got a bill to make up to-morrow." - -"Have patience, my good lady, and all will be right." - -"Ay, so you've said for the last month; but saying's one thing, and -doing's another." - -"Very good." - -"But it ain't very good; it's very bad." - -"Well, well, no matter, Mrs. D----" - -"No matter! But I say it is a great matter,--a matter of ten pounds -fifteen shillings, to say nothing of them oysters what you did me out on -last night." - -"Exactly so; and you shall have it all this very day, for it so happens -that I'm going into the City to receive payment of a debt that has been -owing me since November last. And this reminds me that I have not yet -breakfasted; so pray send up--now don't apologise, for you could not -possibly have known that I had an appointment in Fenchurch-street at ten -o'clock." - -"Breakfast!" exclaimed Mrs. Dibbs with a disdainful toss of her head; -"no, no; not a mouthful shall you have till I get my money: I'm quite -sick of your promises." - -"Nay, but my dear Mrs. D----" - -"It's no use argufying the pint; what I've said, I'll stand to. Come, -Tom--drat the boy! why don't you come?" and so saying, the choleric -dame, catching fast hold of her son by the pinafore, flounced out of the -room, banging the door after her with the emphasis of a hurricane. - -Dick remained a few minutes behind, in the hope that breakfast might yet -be forthcoming: but finding that there was not the slightest prospect of -his landlady's relenting, he, in the true spirit of an indignant Briton, -consigned her "eyes" to perdition; and, having thus expectorated his -wrath, began to furbish up his faded apparel. He tucked in his saffron -shirt-collar; buttoned up his coat to the chin, refreshing the white -seams with the "Patent Reviver;" smoothed round his silk hat, which -luckily was in good preservation; and then rushed out of the house with -the desperate determination of breakfasting at some one's expense. There -is nothing like the gastric juice to stimulate a man's ingenuity. It is -the secret of half the poetic inspiration in our literature. - -Chance--or perhaps that ruling destiny which, do what we will, still -sways all our actions--led Dick's steps in the direction of the -Hampstead Road. It was a bright, cool, summer morning; the housemaids -were at work with their brooms outside the cottages; the milkman was -going his rounds with his "sky-blue;" and the shiny porter-pots yet hung -upon the garden rails. As our hero moved onward, keeping his mouth close -shut, lest the lively wind might act too excitingly on his unfurnished -epigastrum, his attentive optics chanced to fall on a cottage, in the -front parlour of which, the window being open, he beheld a sight that -roused all the shark or alderman within him,--to wit, a breakfast set -forth in a style that might have created an appetite "under the ribs of -death." Dick stopped: the case was desperate; but his self-possession -was equal to the emergency. "A Mr. Smith lives here," said he, running -his eye hastily over the premises: "the bower, and the wooden god, those -trees so neatly clipped, and that commonplace-looking terrier sleeping -at the gate, with his nose poked through the rails, all betoken the -habits and fancies of a Smith. Good! I will favour the gentleman with a -call;" and with these words Dick gave a vehement pull at the garden-bell. - -"Is Mr. Smith at home?" he inquired with an air of easy assurance that -produced an instant effect on the girl who answered the bell. - -"No, sir." - -"Upon my life, that's very awkward; particularly so as he requested me -to be----" - -"Oh! I suppose, then, you're the gentleman that was expected here to -breakfast this morning?" - -"The very same, my dear." - -"Well," continued the girl, unlocking the gate, "master desired me to -say that you were to walk in, and not wait for him, for he had to go -into Tottenham-court Road on business, and should not be back for an -hour." - -Dick took the hint, walked in, and in an instant was hard at work. - -How he punished the invigorating coffee! What havoc he wrought among -the eggs and French rolls! Never was seen such voracity since the days -of the ventripotent Heliogabalus. His expedition was on a par with his -prowess, for Mr. Smith's guest being momentarily expected, he felt that -he had not a moment to lose. Accordingly, after doing prompt, impartial -justice to every article on table, he coolly rang the bell, and, without -noticing the muttered "My stars!" of the servant as she glanced at the -wreck before her, he desired her to tell Mr. Smith that, as he had a -visit to pay in the neighbourhood, he could not wait longer for him, -but would call again in the course of the day; and then, putting on -his hat with an air, he quitted the cottage on the best possible terms -with himself and all the world. There is nothing like good eating and -drinking to bring out the humanities. - -Having no professional duties to attend to, Dick strolled on to -Hampstead Heath, where he seated himself on a bench that commands an -extensive view towards the west and north. Here he continued musing -upwards of an hour, in that buoyant mood which a good breakfast never -fails to call forth. It was early yet to trouble himself about dinner or -his landlady's bill; and Dick was not the man to recognise a grievance -till it stared him in the face, when, if he could not give it the cut -direct, he would boldly confront and grapple with it: so he occupied -himself with whistling one of Macheath's songs in the Beggar's Opera. - -While thus idling away his time, and picturing in his mind's eye the -perplexed visages of Mr. Smith and his guest when they should become -acquainted with the extent of their calamity, Dick's attention was -suddenly directed to the sound of voices near him. He listened; and, -from the dulcet accents in which the conversation was carried on, felt -persuaded that the parties were making love. Curious to ascertain who -they were, he retreated behind one of the broadest elms on the terrace, -and there beheld a dry old maid, thin as a thread-paper, and straight -as a stick of sealing-wax, smirking and affecting to blush at something -that was whispered in her ear by a young man. Our adventurer fancied -that the latter's person was familiar to him; so, the instant the -enamoured turtles separated, he emerged from his hiding-place, and saw, -advancing towards the bench he had just quitted, an old com-rogue, to -whom in his better days he had lost many a sum at the gaming-table. - -The recognition was mutual. - -"What! Dick Diddler?" - -"What! Sam Spragge?" - -"Why, Sam, what has brought you here at this hour?" quoth our hero. - -Samuel smiled, and pointed significantly towards the ancient virgin, who -was just then crossing the Heath, near the donkey-stand. - -"Hem! I understand. Much property?" - -"Eight hundred a year at her own disposal, and two thousand _three per -cents_ at the death of a crusty, invalid brother-in-law, who lives with -her in that old-fashioned house she is now entering." - -"Eight hundred a year!" said Dick musing; "lucky dog! And how long have -you known her?" - -"Oh! an eternity. Three days." - -"And where did you pick her up?" - -"Under a gateway in Camden Town, where we were both standing up from the -rain." - -"You seem to have made excellent use of your time." - -"Nothing easier. I could see at a glance that she was quite as anxious -for a husband as I am for a rich wife; so, after some indifferent chat -about the weather, &c. I prevailed on her to accept of my escort home; -talked lots of sentiment as we jogged along under my umbrella; praised -her beauty to the skies,--for she is inordinately vain, though ugly -enough, as you must have seen, to scare a ghost--and, in short, did not -quit her till she had promised to meet me on the following day." - -"And she kept her word, no doubt?" - -"Yes, I have now seen her four times, and am sure that if I could but -muster up funds enough for a Gretna-green trip,--for she has all the -romance of a boarding-school girl,--I could carry her off this very -night. But I cannot, Dick, I cannot;" and Sam heaved a sigh that was -quite pathetic. - -"Can you not borrow of her?--'tis for her own good, you know." - -"Impossible! I have represented myself as a man of substance; and, -were she once to suppose me otherwise, so quick-witted is she on money -matters, that she would instantly give me my dismissal." - -"And what is your angel's name?" - -"Priscilla Spriggins." - -"My dear fellow," exclaimed Dick with a sudden burst of emotion, "from -my soul I pity you; but, alas! sympathy is all I have to offer:--look -here!" and, turning his empty pockets inside out, he displayed two holes -therein, about as big as the aperture of a mousetrap. - -An expressive pause followed this touching exhibition; shortly after -which the two adventurers parted,--Sam returning towards London, with a -view, no doubt, of seeking, like Apollyon, "whom he might devour;" and -Dick remaining where he was, casting ever and anon a glance towards the -house where the fair Priscilla vegetated, and meditating, the while, on -the revelation that had just been made to him. - -Tired at length of reverie, he rose from the bench, and made his way -back into Hampstead,--slowly, for every step was bringing him nearer the -residence of his unreasonable landlady. On passing down by Mount Vernon, -he beheld the walls on either side of him placarded with hand-bills -announcing that an auction was to take place that day at a large old -family mansion (the by-streets of Hampstead abound in such) close by: -and, on moving towards the spot, he saw, by the groups of people who -were lounging at the open door, that the sale had already begun. By way -of killing an idle half-hour or so, Dick entered; and, elbowing his way -up stairs, soon found himself in a spacious drawing-room, crowded with -pictures, vases, old porcelain, and other articles of _virtù_. - -Just at that moment the auctioneer put up a landscape painting by one of -the old masters, on which he expatiated with the customary professional -eloquence. "Going, ladies and gentlemen, going for two hundred -pounds--undoubted Paul Potter--highly admired by the late lamented -Lawrence--sheep so naturally coloured, you'd swear you could hear 'em -bleat--frame, too, in excellent condition--going--going----" - -"Two hundred and thirty!" said a small gentleman in spectacles, raising -himself on tip-toe to catch the auctioneer's eye. - -"Two hundred and fifty" shouted another. - -"Going for two hundred and fifty," said the man in the rostrum; after -a pause, "upon my word, ladies and gentlemen, this is giving away the -picture. Pray look at that fore-shortened old ram in the background; -why, his two horns alone are worth the money. Let me beg, for the honour -of art, that----" - -"Three hundred!" roared Dick, with an intrepid effrontery that extorted -universal respect,--for to his other amiable qualities he added that of -being a "brag" of the first water, and was proud, even though it were -but for a moment, of displaying his consequence among strangers. - -As this was the highest bidding, the picture was knocked down to our -hero, who, having cracked his joke, and gratified his swaggering -propensities, was about to beat a retreat, when he found his elbow -twitched by a nervous, eager little man,--a duodecimo edition of a -virtuoso,--who had only that moment entered the room. - -"So you have purchased that Paul Potter, sir, I understand," said the -stranger, wiping the perspiration from his bald head, and evidently -struggling with his vexation. - -Dick nodded an affirmative, not a little curious to know what would come -next. - -"Bless my soul, how unlucky! To think that I should have been only five -minutes too late, and such a run as I had for it! Excuse the liberty -I am taking, but have you any wish to be off your bargain, sir?--not -that I am particularly anxious about the picture--I merely ask for -information; that's all, sir, I assure you," added the virtuoso, aware -that he had committed himself, and endeavouring to retrieve his blunder. - -Dick cast one of his most searching glances at the stranger; and, -reading in his countenance the anxiety he would fain have concealed -under a show of indifference, said in his slyest and most composed -manner, "May I beg to be favoured with your name, sir?" - -"Smithson, sir,--Richard Smithson, agent to Lord Theodore Thickskull, -whose picture-gallery I have the honour of a commission to furnish; -and happening to read a day or two ago in the "Times" that a few old -paintings were to be disposed of by auction here on the premises, I -thought, perhaps----" - -"Indeed! That alters the case," replied our hero with an air of -dignified courtesy, "for I have some slight acquaintance with his -lordship myself." - -"Bless my soul, how odd!--how uncommon odd! Possibly, then, for my -lord's sake, you will not object to----" - -"No," replied Dick smiling, "I did not say that." - -"Rely on it, sir," continued the fidgety little virtuoso, "you are -mistaken in your estimate of that painting. They say it is a Paul -Potter; but it's no such thing--no such thing, sir." - -"Then why are you so anxious to get possession of it?" - -"Who? I, sir? Bless my soul, I'm not anxious. I merely thought that -as his lordship was particularly partial to landscapes, he might be -tempted, perhaps, to give more--" - -"Well," said Dick, eager to bring the matter to a conclusion, "as I have -no very pressing desire to retain the picture, though it is the very -thing for my library in Mount-street, you shall have it; but on certain -conditions." - -"Name them, my dear sir, name them," said the virtuoso, his eyes -sparkling with animation. - -"I have bought the painting," resumed Dick, "for three hundred guineas; -now, you shall have it for six hundred. You see I put the matter quite -on a footing of business, without the slightest reference to his -lordship." - -"Six hundred guineas! Bless my soul, impossible!" - -"As you please," replied our hero with exquisite nonchalance; "I am -indifferent about the matter." - -"Say four hundred, sir." - -"Not a farthing less. The pictures in this house, as the advertisement -which brought me up here at this unseasonable hour, before I had -even time to complete my toilette, justly observes, have been long -celebrated, and----" - -"I'll give you five hundred," replied Smithson, cutting short Dick's -remarks. - -"Well, well, for his lordship's sake----" - -"Good!" exclaimed the virtuoso; and hurrying Dick to a more quiet corner -of the room, he took out pen and inkhorn, wrote a check on a West-end -banker for the amount of the balance, thrust it into his hand, and then, -after assuring him that he would arrange everything with the auctioneer, -and would not trouble him to stay longer, hurried away towards the -rostrum, as though he feared our hero would repent the transfer of a -painting for which he himself imagined he should be able to screw about -eight hundred pounds out of his lordship, who was remarkable for the -readiness with which he paid through the nose. - -No sooner had Dick lost sight of Mr. Smithson, than away he flew from -the house, bounding and taking big leaps like a ram, till he reached -the main street, when, changing his exultant pace for a more sober -and gentlemanlike one, he hailed the Hampstead coach, which was about -leaving the office, snugly ensconced himself inside, and within the hour -was deposited at Charing-cross. - -"Coachman," quoth our hero, as the Jehu, having descended from his box, -held out his hand to receive the usual fare, "I am rather delicately -situated." - -"Humph!" replied the man, who seemed perfectly to comprehend, though not -to sympathise with, the delicacy of the case, "sorry for it; but master -always says, says he----" - -"The fact is," continued Dick, interrupting what bade fair to become a -prolix Philippic, "though I have not a farthing in my pocket, having -forgotten to take out my purse this morning, yet as I am just going -to receive cash for a two hundred pound cheque, and shall return with -you to Hampstead, I presume the delay of an hour will make no great -difference." - -The coachman, whose white round face usually beamed with all the bland -expression of a turnip, evinced symptoms of an uneasy distrust at this -speech; but when Dick exhibited the cheque--not relishing the idea of a -"bolt," long experience having no doubt taught him that coachmen running -after a fare are apt to run with most inconvenient velocity--when, -I say, Dick exhibited this convincing scrap of paper, all Jehu's -suspicions vanished, and, touching the shining edge of his hat, he -absolved our hero from extempore payment, with a bow that might have -done honour to a Margate dancing-master. - -This knotty point settled, the ingenious Richard next posted off in a -cab to the banker's,--for it was beneath his dignity to walk,--presented -his cheque, received the amount, placed it securely in his waistcoat -pocket, and then made all possible haste to a well-known shop in the -neighbourhood of Piccadilly, where every item necessary to perfect the -man of fashion may be procured at a minute's notice. - -Our hero entered the shop in a condition bordering upon the shabby -genteel, though his person and address were a handsome set-off against -the infirmities of his apparel: he came out dressed in the very height -of ton. The hue of his linen was unimpeachable; his pantaloons fitted -to a miracle; his coat was guiltless of a wrinkle. Then his gay, glossy -silk waistcoat, to say nothing of--but enough; the metamorphosis was -complete--the snake had cast its skin--the grub was transformed into the -butterfly. - -But, startling as was the change which his Hampstead speculation had -wrought in his person, still more so was its effect on his mind. Here -an entire revolution was already in full activity. Vast ideas fermented -in his brain. He no longer crept along with the downcast look of an -adventurer, but stared boldly about him, as one conscious that he was -somebody. And so he was. It is not every one who cuts a figure at the -West-end that can boast of the possession of two hundred pounds! - -On his road back to Charing-cross, the first object which caught our -hero's eye was the Hampstead coach preparing to set out on its return. -The sight brought to his recollection the fair Priscilla Spriggins; and -in an instant, with the decision of a Napoleon, he resolved to make a -"Bold Stroke for a Wife," and carry her of to Gretna that very night. -The scheme was hopeless, you will say: granted; but Dick was formed to -vanquish, not be vanquished by, circumstances. "Faint heart never won -fair lady," said he; "so here goes;" and in he popped. - -It was now about two o'clock, the hour when the fair inhabitants of -our cockney Arcadia are in the habit of taking the air on the Heath, -some with work-bags, some with the "last new novel," but the majority -with "Bentley's Miscellany" in their hands. Dick no sooner reached the -donkey-stand, than he seated himself on a bench close by,--where two -young ladies were standing, fondly imagining that they beheld Windsor -Castle through a spyglass,--and looked anxiously about him, to see if he -could detect Miss Spriggins among the peripatetics. But no Priscilla was -visible. How, therefore, should he act? "Wait," said common sense; so -Dick waited. - -Half an hour had elapsed, and he was beginning to get impatient, when -suddenly, on casting his eyes towards the lady's house, he saw the door -open, and Miss Spriggins herself stepped forth, with a novel in one -hand, and a pea-green parasol in the other. Dick watched her motions as -a cat watches a mouse: saw her steal away towards a retired quarter of -the Heath, and, having made up his mind as to the line of conduct he -should pursue, started from his seat and followed quickly in her wake. - -On reaching her side, "Miss Spriggins, I presume?" said he with a -profound obeisance. - -"The same, sir," replied the surprised Priscilla. - -"Ah! madam," resumed Dick, bursting at once into a sentimental vein, -for he felt that every minute was precious, "happy am I to see that -enchanting face once more." - -"Excuse me, sir," said Miss Spriggins, affecting to bridle up; "but -really I do not comprehend----" - -"Comprehend, madam!--and how should you? I scarcely comprehend myself. -But how should it be otherwise, when for weeks past I have daily -wandered over this romantic heath, hoping, but, alas! in vain, to -catch one stray gleam of that sunny beauty which last April--how well -I remember the date!--so riveted my fancy as it flashed on me from -the front drawing-room of yonder house;" and Dick pointed towards -Priscilla's dwelling. - -"Really, sir, this language----" - -"Is the language of frenzy, maybe; but it is the language also of -passion. Ah! madam, if you but knew the flame that that one casual -glimpse of your bewitching countenance lit up in my unhappy heart, -you would pity what I now feel. Would to God that you were as much a -stranger to me as I am to you, for then I should cease to be the wretch -I am;" and Dick, having no onion ready, turned away his head, and -covered his face with his handkerchief. - -"Sir," replied Miss Spriggins, startled, yet far from displeased, "I -really know not what answer to make to this most extraordinary----" - -"Extraordinary, madam? Is it extraordinary to admire beauty--to -reverence perfection--to live but in the hope of again seeing her who, -once seen, can never be forgotten--is this extraordinary? If so, then am -I the most extraordinary of men. Revered Priscilla,--Miss Spriggins, I -should say,--your beauty has undone me. I should have joined my regiment -at Carlisle ere now; but you, and you only, have kept me lingering in -this sylvan district. Ah, lady! Captain Felix O'Flam was happy till he -saw you,--happy, even though deceived by one whom he once thought his -friend." - -The fair Priscilla, whose predominant infirmity, as has been before -observed, was an indigestion of celibacy, could not witness the -affliction of the dashing young man before her, without sympathising -with him; perceiving which, Dick continued, "I see you pity me, lady, -and your pity would be still more profound did you know all. It is -no later than last week that I became acquainted with the arts of an -adventurer named Spragge, who, for months previously, having wormed -himself into my confidence, had led me to believe that----" - -"Spragge!" interrupted Miss Spriggins with a look of huge dismay; "and -pray what sort of a person may he have been?" - -In reply, Dick described Sam to the life; whereupon his companion, no -longer able to conceal her rage, exclaimed abruptly, "The wretch!--what -an escape have I had!" - -"Escape, madam! How so? Has the villain dared to deceive you, as he has -me? I know that he is one of those plausible, unprincipled adventurers -about town, who make a point of preying on the unwary--and such he must -have considered me, when he introduced himself one morning as a relation -of the commanding officer of my regiment;--but that he should have -presumed to----" - -"Oh no, captain," replied Miss Spriggins with evident embarrassment; "I -was never his dupe. He merely called,--if indeed it be the same person, -as I feel convinced it is,--one day last week at my brother's, on some -pretence or other, which--which--But I have done with him, the monster!" - -"Call on you, madam!" replied Dick, adroitly giving in to the lady's -little deviation from fact, "call on you, when _I_ dared not approach -your threshold! But enough--I'll cut his throat!" - -"No, no, captain; believe me, he is unworthy of your revenge." - -"You say right, madam; for, since I have found reason to suspect him, -I have instituted inquiries into his character, and am told that he is -beneath contempt. Why--would you believe it?--the fellow has been twice -ducked in a horse-pond, for thimble-rigging, at Epsom,--flogged at the -cart's tail for petty larceny, rubbed down with vinegar and set in the -black-hole to dry." - -"Mercy on us! you don't say so?" - -"Fact. But to quit this unworthy theme, and revert to a more pleasing -one:--May I, lady,"--and Dick here put on his most wheedling air,--"may, -I, having at length been honoured with one interview with you, presume -to hope for a second? Say only that we may again meet,--nay, that this -very evening we may take a stroll together through these sequestered -shades,--and make me the happiest of men. Alas! I once thought that -fortune alone was necessary to constitute felicity; but, now that I -have _that_, I feel 'tis as nothing; and that love,--disinterested, -impassioned love,--is the main ingredient in the cup of human bliss. -Give me but the woman I adore, and I ask--I expect nothing further; but -wealth without her is a mere mockery." - -This rhapsody had more effect on his companion than anything Dick had -yet said. It was a shot between wind and water. - -"Oh, captain!" replied Priscilla, "I appreciate your generous -sentiments; and, to convince you that I am not unworthy to share them, -will--however strange it may appear in a young and timid female--consent -to see you once more. But, remember, it must be our last interview;" and -she sighed,--and so did Dick. - -"Adieu, then, idol of my soul! if so I may presume to call you," -exclaimed this ingenuous young man; "adieu, till the shades of twilight -lengthen along the horse-pond hard by the donkey-stand, when we will -meet again, and the thrice-blessed Felix----" Dick stopped: seized the -lady's hand, which she faintly struggled to withdraw; imprinted on it -a kiss that "came twanging off," as Massinger would say; and then tore -himself away, as if fearful of trusting himself with farther speech. - -On quitting Priscilla's side, Dick rattled across the fields to -Highgate, wondering at the success that had thus far crowned his -efforts. "Will she keep her appointment?" said he. "Yes, yes; I see it -in her eye. The 'captain' has done the business; never was there so -conceited an old lass!" and, thus soliloquizing, he found himself at the -door of the best hotel in Highgate, strutted into the coffee-room, and -rang the bell for the waiter. - -The man answered his summons, cast a shrewd glance at his exterior, and, -satisfied with the scrutiny, made a low bow, prefaced by a semicircular -flourish of his napkin. - -"Waiter," said Dick, with the air of a prince, "show me into a private -room, and let it be your best." - -"Please to follow me, sir," replied the man; and, so saying, he ushered -our hero into a spacious apartment, which commanded a picturesque view -of a brick-field, with a pig-sty in the background. - -"Good!" said Dick, and throwing himself full-length on a sofa, he -ordered an early dinner, cold, but of the best quality, together with -one bottle of madeira, and another of port, by way of appendix. - -Well; the dinner came, wine ditto, and both were excellent. Glass -after glass was filled and emptied, and Dick felt his spirits mounting -into the seventh heaven of enjoyment. His thoughts were winged; his -prospects radiant with the sunny hues of hope. The fair Priscilla was -his own,--his grievances were at an end,--and he henceforth could snap -his fingers at fate. Happy man! - -Having despatched his madeira, and two or three supplementary glasses -of port, so that one bottle might not be jealous of the attentions paid -to the other, Dick summoned the waiter into his presence, paid his bill -like a lord, and concluded by ordering a post-chaise and four to be -ready for him within two hours in a certain lane which he specified, and -which led off the high-road a few yards beyond the turnpike. Of course -the man understood the drift of this order. Dick, however, took no -notice of his knowing simper; but, telling him that he should return in -a short time, stalked from the hotel as if the majesty of England were -centred in his person. - -On returning to the Heath, he found, as he had expected, the fair -Priscilla awaiting his advent by the horse-pond. She received him with -a blush, to which he replied by a squeeze; and then, emboldened by the -wine he had drunk, went on in a strain of high-flown panegyric which -rapidly thawed the heart of the too susceptible Miss Spriggins. Dick -was not the lad to do things by halves. Neck or nothing was his motto; -and accordingly, before he had been ten minutes in company with his -fair one, he had succeeded in drawing from her a confession that she -preferred him to all the suitors she had ever had. This point gained, -our hero adroitly changed the conversation; talked of his prospects when -his father's estates in the North should come into his possession; of -his friend Lord Theodore Thickskull, to whom he should be so proud to -introduce his Priscilla; and of his intention to sell out of the army -the instant she consented to be his. - -Thus chatting, Dick--accidentally, to all appearance--drew his companion -on towards Highgate, when, suddenly putting on a look of extreme wonder, -he exclaimed, "Who'd have thought it! We are close by the Tunnel. Ah! -dearest Priscilla, you see how time flies when we are with those we -love! And, now that you are here, my angel, you cannot surely refuse to -honour my hotel with your presence. Nay, not a word; it is hard by, and -I am sure you must be fatigued after your walk." - -The lady protested that she could not think of entering an hotel with a -single man. She did, however; and was so favourably impressed with the -respect shown to Dick by the waiter, who with his finger beside his nose -implied that all was ready, that had she ever harboured distrust, this -circumstance alone would have effectually banished it from her mind. - -No sooner had the parties entered Dick's private apartment, than, strange -to tell, they beheld a bottle of port wine standing on the table. -And, lo! there also were two glasses! Of course our hero could not -but present one to Priscilla, who received it, nothing loth, though -affecting extreme coyness. Its effects were soon visible. Her bleak -blue nose assumed a faint mulberry tinge, her eyes sparkled, and she -simpered, languished, and ogled Dick, sighing the while, with a sort -of die-away sensibility, intended to show the extreme tenderness of -her nature. These blandishments, which our hero returned with compound -interest, were, however, soon put an end to, by the lady's suddenly -rising, and requesting him to _chaperon_ her home, as it was getting -late, and her brother would be uneasy at her absence. Dick complied, -though with apparent reluctance, and, as he passed through the hall with -Priscilla hanging on his arm, he could see the landlady peeping at him -through the yellow gauze blinds of the tap-room window. - -It was now confirmed twilight; the dicky-birds were asleep in their -nests; the Highgate toll-bar looked vague and spectral in the gloom; -and nought disturbed the solemn silence of the hour, save the pot-boys -calling "Beer!" at the cottages by the road-side. As Dick rambled on, -under the pretence of leading Miss Spriggins by a short cut home, -his thoughts took the hue of the season, and he became pensive and -abstracted. He looked at Priscilla, and sighed; while she reciprocated -the respiration, heaving up from the depths of her oesophagus a sigh -that might have upset a schooner. And thus the enamoured pair pursued -their walk, Dick every now and then squeezing his companion's hand -with the gentle compression of a blacksmith's vice. 'Twas a spectacle -gratifying to a benevolent heart, the sight of those devoted lovers, -so wrapt up in each other as to be regardless of the extraordinary -beauties of the picturesque scenery about them. The dog-rose bloomed in -the hedge, but they inhaled not its fragrance. The ducks quacked in the -verdant ditch beside their path, but they heeded not their euphonious -ejaculations. Their own sweet thoughts were enough for them. Surrounding -nature was as nought,--they seemed alone in creation,--the sole denizens -of Middlesex! - -By this time the moon had climbed the azure vault of heaven; the last -Omnibus had set down the last man; when lo! before he was aware of -his contiguity, Dick found himself close by the turnpike. 'Twas a -critical moment; but the young man was desperate, and desperation -knows no impossibilities. Changing the sentimental tone he had hitherto -adopted, he burst into the most frenzied exclamations of grief; stated -the necessity he was under of immediately joining his regiment at -Carlisle, which he should have done long before had not his love for -Priscilla kept him lingering in the vicinity of Hampstead; that he had -not the heart to state this before; but, now that he had explained his -situation, he felt that he should not survive the shock of a separation. -"There," said he, pointing to the carriage, which was but a few yards -off, "there is the detested vehicle destined to bear me far from thee! -Why had I not the candour to explain my position till this moment? -Alas! who, situated as I am, could have acted otherwise? Lady, I -love--adore--doat--on you to distraction! Let us fly, then, and link our -fates together. You speak not, alas!" - -"Good Heavens!" replied the bewildered Miss Spriggins, "impossible! What -would the world say? Oh fie, Captain Felix!--to think that I should have -been exposed to----" - -"Come, Priscilla,--my Priscilla,--and let us hasten to be happy. The -respected clergyman at Gretna ----" - -"An elopement!--Monstrous!--Oh! that I should have lived to hear such a -proposition!" - -Need the sequel be insisted on? Dick wept, prayed, capered, tore his -hair, and acted a thousand shrewd extravagances; swore he would hang -himself to the toll-bar, or cut his throat with an oyster-knife, if his -own dear Priscilla did not consent to unite her destiny with his; and, -in fact, so worked upon the damsel's sensibilities, that she had no help -for it but to gasp forth a reluctant consent. An instant, and all was -ready for departure. Crack went the whip, round went the wheels, and -away went the fond couple to Gretna-green, rattling along the high north -road at the rate of fourteen miles an hour! - -Thus he who at nine o'clock in the morning was an adventurer without a -sixpence in his pocket, by the same hour in the evening was a gentleman -in possession of a woman worth eight hundred pounds _per annum_!--Gentle -reader, truth is strange,--stranger than fiction. - - - - - THE MAN WITH THE TUFT. - BY THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY. - - I. - I ever at college - From commoners shrank, - Still craving the knowledge - Of people of rank: - In my glass, my lord's ticket - I eagerly stuffed; - And all call'd me "Riquet," - The man with the Tuft. - - II. - My patron! most noble! - Of highest degree! - Thou never canst probe all - My homage for thee! - Thy hand--oh! I'd lick it, - Though often rebuff'd; - And still I am "Riquet," - The man with the Tuft! - - III. - Too oft the great, shutting - Their doors on the bold, - Do deeds that are cutting, - Say words that are cold! - Through flattery's wicket - _My_ body I've stuff'd, - And _so_ I am "Riquet," - The man with the Tuft! - - IV. - His lordship's a poet, - Enraptured I sit; - He's dull--(and I know it)-- - _I_ call him a wit! - His fancy, I nick it, - By me he is puff'd. - And still I am "Riquet," - The man with the Tuft! - - - - - THE MINISTER'S FATE. - A SKETCH OF THE PAST. - -Now that the session of parliament is fairly set in, and occupying -public attention, sketches and recollections of public orators, with -touches at the gallery M.P.'s, or "gentlemen of the fourth estate," as -the reporters have been termed, will of course become redundant; but for -scribblers who have known St. Stephen's only a session or two to attempt -a thing of this sort, so as to satisfy those who take a real interest -in the doings of the senate, is out of the question. To deal with such -matters properly, a man, as Pierce Egan says of the important mysteries -of boxing and slang, "must be brought up to the business from a _young -'un_." - -It is not my purpose to deal with matters of the day. My sketches might -go a quarter, or probably half a century back: Graham's celestial bed, -Mr. Dodd's execution, and Lord George Gordon's riots, will scarcely be -out of my reach. Though I set off with what relates to the House of -Commons, from having known many of the distinguished writers who have at -various periods laboured there, other scenes will occasionally recur to -me, which it may be worth while to bring, with the details none but an -eyewitness can give, before the reader. - -I did not, however, know, but from reading of them in the newspapers, -the parliamentary orators of my time, till after the opening of the -present century. The last stars of a galaxy admitted to be of more -than ordinary splendour, had not yet faded when I made my debut in the -gallery of St. Stephen's Chapel: Pitt and Fox, Lord North and Burke, -had "shuffled off this mortal coil;" but Wyndham, and Sheridan, and -Tierney remained. Of them and of their latter contemporaries I have many -recollections; some of which, as they are connected with matters of -historical interest, it may be entertaining at least, to recall. It will -not be important to observe strict chronological order, so each scene -is kept by itself, the colouring not exaggerated and every fact related -with a scrupulous regard to sacred truth. - -Shades of the departed, how ye rise to "my mind's eye" as I prepare to -enter on my task! On the right, as we looked from the gallery of the -old House, that is, to the left of the Speaker's chair, I see Ponsonby, -with his portly form, white hair, and red chubby countenance; Wyndham, -a tall, spare figure, and a head partially bald; Tierney, with his -lowering brow, apparently waiting to spring on his ministerial victim; -Sheridan, exhibiting an aspect but too indicative of the thoughtless -career he pursued; Romilly, maintaining an air of solemn dignity, with -an appearance of exhaustion from severe mental toil; Whitbread, robust, -shrewd, and never weary; his deportment might have passed for that -of a blunt, resolute farmer. Always at his post; during the session, -the House of Commons was his home. Opposed to these I see the keen, -sarcastic, and animated Perceval. He had a bright penetrating eye, and a -nose rather inclining upwards, which the H. B.'s of 1807 converted into -a most ludicrous pug nose; his figure was small, and he had little hair -on the crown of his head; but he wore a long thin queue behind, which -in debate, from the vivacity of his manner, was continually showing -itself over one or other shoulder. Near him sat Castlereagh. He boasted -an elegant figure and handsome countenance, and often carried the polish -of the drawing-room into the tumult of political warfare, but sometimes -abruptly dropped it, to strike the table or the box before him with -almost farcical violence. The capacious forehead and fine features of -Canning were generally by his side. The well-powdered head of Old George -Rose was seldom very distant, and the bald shining skull of "Brother -Bragge," as Mr. Bragge Bathurst had been facetiously called by Canning, -was one of the group. - -Memory now turns to the gentlemen up-stairs in the gallery; nor ought -these to be thought beneath some notice, remembering how many have -since descended into the House to furnish occupation to their reporting -posterity. Woodfall formerly sat at the right hand corner of the front -of the gallery, on the seat which was what a goose is for a meal, "too -much for one, but too little for two,"--I mean the continuation of the -member's bench. He commonly held a gold-headed cane in his hand, which -he continually turned round one way when listening to a speech, and then -caused it to revolve the other way attending to the reply. The smiling -suavity of Hogan, the dry good-humour of Donovan, (these gentlemen went -out chief justice and judge advocate to Sierra Leone, where they died,) -the severe glance of Keating, the gracious swagger and laugh of Edward -Quin, the "amiable obliquity of vision" of Peter Finnerty, the ardent -gaiety of Power, and the overflowing merriment of the senior Dowling, -all seem to return, with the peculiarities of many others, who, like -them, are no more, and those of a much greater number who fortunately -survive. - -The consequences of a war of unexampled length were severely felt in -1812, and much of the distress which then prevailed was affirmed to have -been produced by our own "orders in council," issued to meet the decrees -of Bonaparte. Earl Grey was their strenuous and persevering opponent. -A parliamentary inquiry into their operation was instituted. In the -Commons Mr. Whitbread greatly exerted himself in support of the views -of his noble friend Earl Grey, and the investigation was entered upon -by the whole House in committee. The interminable examinations which -followed, exhausted public curiosity to such a pitch, that the gentlemen -of the press had instructions not to report them. In consequence of -this, when the order of the day was moved for going into the committee, -they closed their books, entered into conversation, and sometimes even -left the House. - -The gallery was at that time on such occasions nearly deserted; two or -three reporters indolently reclining on their seats, and from twelve to -twenty visitors were all the audience the subject commanded. - -Of the last-mentioned individuals, some few, from their own interests -being affected by the matter under inquiry, went to the house frequently -enough to get in some degree acquainted with the writers; and among them -was one gentleman who usually took his place on the back seat, though -he was always ready to resign it to those who, as they went there for -business, and not for pleasure, considered that they had a right to -claim it as their own. There was something singular in this person's -manner; and the eagerness with which he surveyed the members, by means -of an opera-glass, often excited the mirth of his waggish neighbours. -He asked many questions, but timed them so well, and always deported -himself with so much respectful good-humour, that any information he -desired was readily given. - -One fine summer's afternoon I and some other tired visitors to the House -availed ourselves of the leisure which the sitting of the committee -afforded, to enjoy a walk on the banks of the river. On our return, -near Milbank, a person who had some knowledge of us inquired if we -had heard that a duel had taken place between the Earl of Liverpool -and Mr. Perceval, in which the latter had fallen. We laughed at the -improbability of the story, but were seriously assured that we should -find it true. Still incredulous, we said we would soon ascertain the -fact, and accordingly advanced to Palace Yard. There the closed gates, -the crowd assembled outside, and the information communicated by a -thousand tongues, soon placed it beyond all doubt that the minister -was no more, having within the last hour been shot, not by his noble -colleague, but by a stranger named Bellingham. - -Mr. Perceval was in the habit of coming down to the House about five -o'clock. On this day it was a quarter past that hour, when, as he -entered the lobby, he was shot through the heart. He staggered a few -paces, fell against one of the pillars, and almost immediately expired. -The assassin was instantly seized and taken to the bar of the House, -where a crowd of persons, members and strangers mixed in extreme -confusion, assembled round him; and as soon as an attempt at restoring -order could be made, the Speaker directed Mr. Whitbread and other -members to precede and follow the prisoner to a place of safe custody. -This was done, and these facts were generally known to the multitude, -which now beset all the avenue leading to the two Houses. - -From mouth to mouth the mournful tidings flew with unexampled rapidity. -The very prominent situation in which Mr. Perceval stood, the active -and important business he was daily seen engaged in, made men almost -seem to doubt if it were possible that such a career could so suddenly -be closed for ever. The rumours sent forth had the same effect on every -one they reached, I might almost say, that it has been shown they had on -me and my companions. All who heard that the right honourable gentleman -was dead, seemed to determine instantly to verify the fact by repairing -to Westminster. It was about a quarter past five in the afternoon of -the 11th of May that Mr. Perceval was shot in the lobby of the House, -and, by six, countless thousands poured down the Strand and all the -streets leading to Charing Cross. Second editions of the evening papers -were got out with astonishing expedition; and, by the time I have -mentioned, one had been carried so far towards Westminster as the end -of Parliament-street, opposite Downing-street. The extreme eagerness of -every one to know all that could be known, I remember, instantly got a -crowd round the bearer of it. Ownership and ceremony were not thought -of: every one who could get hold of the much-coveted broad sheet, -considered that he had a right to it. I, among a host of intruders, -saw there, in the manner described, the first connected detail of the -catastrophe. - -As the night closed in, the crowd became immense, and some discreditable -exultation was expressed by the lowest of the mob; but the general -feeling created was that of humane commiseration and unmitigated horror. - -Admiring the great talents of Mr. Perceval as I did, and impressed with -a conviction that he was most amiable in private life, my own sorrow -was great; and I rejoiced at the thought that the murderer was in safe -custody, and would possibly, (as the sessions were about to commence,) -before a single week should have elapsed, suffer the last penalty of the -law. - -Never shall I forget the spectacle which the House of Commons presented -on the following day. Those who have been in the habit of going there, -must have noticed with some annoyance the ceaseless murmur which -prevails for the first hour, or hour and a half, after the Speaker has -taken the chair, while private bills and petitions of little interest, -are being disposed of, and papers presented at the bar. The monotonous -repetition by the Speaker of the words, "So many as are of that opinion -say '_aye_,' those who are of a contrary opinion say '_no_;' the ayes -have it," on putting questions which are unopposed,--the ceaseless -slamming of doors,--the creaking of shoes of some of those members who -seem to delight in displaying their elegance by marching, or I might -almost say by skating, up and down the body of the House, as if to let -their friends, the strangers in and under the gallery, see how very -grand it is possible for them to look,--and the frequent cry of "Order! -order!" "Bar! bar!" from the Chair, given forth, as was then the case, -with full-toned dignity of Mr. Speaker Abbot (the late Lord Colchester), -altogether gave the idea of a careless, irregular assembly,--of anything -but a place where the most important business of a great nation was to -be transacted. Such was its usual aspect in those days; but on the 12th -of May 1812, most widely different I found the scene. The attendance was -unusually full, but solemn funereal stillness marked the approach of -each member to assist in the proceedings growing out of the recent and -melancholy fate of the minister. - - "How silent did his old companions tread" - -on that floor over which they had so long been accustomed to pass -with him whose fall they now lamented! Party feeling was annihilated; -all mourned, and many wept, for the deceased, as if he had been their -nearest, dearest friend or relative. A place on the ministerial bench -was pointed at from the gallery as that which Mr. Perceval had been -used to fill. I am not aware, though he generally sat nearly in the -same place, that any precise spot was particularly reserved for him; -and on the occasion which it is my object to recall, certainly no such -theatrical effort at effect was made. The vacant seat was soon occupied -by one of the late right honourable gentleman's colleagues. - -Not only was there the abstinence from conversation, which I have noted, -but action--the common ordinary motions of gentlemen meeting in assembly -were suspended. The benches were filled with unwonted regularity; and -their occupants, scarcely venturing on a whisper, and hardly changing -their position, seemed almost like breathing statues, while they awaited -with awful interest the announcement of what steps the government -proposed to take, and what information had been obtained by them -respecting the event which had deprived the administration of its chief. - -The silence which prevailed was at length broken by the Speaker, who, -with an effort at firmness, but in a tone somewhat subdued, pronounced -the name of Lord Castlereagh, (the Late Marquis of Londonderry,) who had -at that moment presented himself at the bar. - -His lordship, in a faltering voice, stated that he was the bearer of a -message from the Prince Regent. - -"Please to bring it up," was the matter-of-course reply, and his -lordship handed the paper to the Chair. It was forthwith read. The -Regent expressed his deep regret for the event, which he could never -cease to deplore, and recommended to the House to make a provision for -the family of Mr. Perceval. - -It was then moved that the House should resolve itself into a committee, -to take into consideration the message; and that being done, Lord -Castlereagh took upon himself the task of addressing the members on the -painful subject which they were then to entertain. His lordship spoke -with great feeling. A more than official attachment seemed to connect -his lordship with the late premier. On an occasion then recent, when -the conduct of his lordship had been the subject of grave accusation -respecting the disposal of certain seats in that House, Mr. Perceval -had defended him with great earnestness and success; and, doing so, his -declaration was, "I raise my voice for the man I esteem, and the friend -I love." - -In the course of his statement, the noble lord had, in connexion with -the awful event of the preceding day, to make known the conviction of -the ministry, from all the inquiries that had down to that hour been -instituted, that the act of Bellingham was perfectly unconnected with -any general scheme or conspiracy. Proceeding to speak of the domestic -distress it had caused, he said, the children left by Mr. Perceval were -twelve in number. "For the widow," he added, "her happiness in this -world is closed;" and the painful feelings by which he was oppressed so -overpowered him, that he was unable to proceed. He burst into tears, and -with strong emotions raised a handkerchief to his eyes, and concealed -his face for some moments. - -With a knowledge of subsequent events, I cannot but recall this passage -of Lord Castlereagh's address, though perfectly appropriate at the -time, with a cynical glance,--a something between mirth and sorrow. -Looking at the picture drawn of Mrs. Perceval, and remembering that -horror at learning the fate of her husband was said to have almost -petrified her; that, wild and unconscious, the most fatal effects were -anticipated from her excessive woe, till, by the advice of her medical -attendants, she was led into the room where the corpse of her lord was -lying, when that ghastly spectacle caused her tears to flow, and thus -afforded the bursting heart some relief; I cannot recall these things, -without connecting with them the news which the fashionable world were -destined at no very distant period to receive, that this afflicted and -heart-broken lady, the mother of twelve children, had been again led -to the altar by a gallant officer much younger than herself. Of the -matrimonial discord that followed, I will not speak. - -I am not going to copy from the journals of the House the particulars -of the grant proposed as a provision for the Perceval family, nor from -the papers of the day the debates to which the event gave rise. What -I propose to do is, merely to give a few sketches of the attendant -circumstances, which may be thought interesting now, but were lost sight -of then, from the pressure of matter of greater importance. - -Let it then suffice to say that the House cordially approved of the -course recommended by the Crown. Mr. Whitbread, who had been one of -the most unsparing opponents of the departed premier, was frequently -in tears. He bore testimony to the amiable personal character of the -late minister. "I never," said he, "carry hostility to those from whom -I differ on political questions beyond that door," pointing to the door -opening into the lobby: "with that man it was impossible to carry it so -far." - -It is due to that honourable gentleman to say that this was not a mere -_post mortem_ compliment. With the deceased he had often come into -collision. Mr. Whitbread was irritable, and was sometimes deeply stung -by the sarcasms launched at him by Mr. Perceval. In one debate the -latter, having adverted to predictions formerly made by Mr. Whitbread, -which had not been borne out by events, and to new ones then hazarded, -applied to his assailant the words of Pope, - - "Destroyed his web of sophistry in vain, - The creature's at his dirty work again." - -Mr. Whitbread, nettled at this, spoke to order, and demanded that the -words should be taken down. A very brief and simple explanation restored -his good humour, and the subject was dropped. On another occasion, not -long before Mr. Perceval's death, when some personal altercation had -occurred between them, the right honourable gentleman, in explaining -away that which had given offence, took occasion to say that among his -faults--and he had many--want of respect for the honourable member was -not one of them. Mr. Whitbread, in cordially accepting the explanation, -replied, that "among all the right honourable gentleman's virtues--and -he had many--there was none more to be admired than the promptness with -which he could return to friendly conference from the heat of political -debate." - -There was, indeed, much affability about Mr. Perceval's manner. Many -anecdotes of his condescension were published at the time. An instance -of his courtesy and good-nature occurs to me which has never appeared in -print. - -At a grand city feast in Guildhall, the publisher of a fashionable -journal having taken wine rather freely, was hoaxed by some mischievous -friend with a belief that Mr. Perceval was one of the officers of the -hall, and under this impression, wishing to leave for a short time, -accosted him with a theatrically pompous air, which the individual (a -well-known character at that time among the votaries of the drama,) -loved to assume, and said, - -"My good fellow, I wish to step into King-street for a moment; you'll -take notice of me and let me in again," at the same time offering to -slip half-a-crown into the hands of the prime minister. The gift was -declined, and Mr. Perceval replied with a smile, "I am sorry it is not -in my power to oblige you; but you had better speak to some of those -gentlemen," pointing to the marshalmen; "they may be able to do what you -wish." - -While the good qualities of the deceased were rehearsed, and the -consequences of his fate to the government and to the country were -discussed, curiosity naturally turned to the cause of the important -change. Great was my surprise to learn that the individual was not -wholly unknown to me; I was soon reminded of the singular personage who -had attracted notice by his manner and his opera-glass in the gallery. -That was no other than Bellingham; and two of the gentlemen who had been -in the habit of meeting, and perhaps of conversing with him there, were -the first who advanced after the dreadful deed to secure him in the -lobby. - -The remainder of that unhappy man's story is soon told. In the course -of a day or two the coroner's inquest returned a verdict of wilful -murder, and the grand jury a true bill against him. On the Friday he -stood at the bar of the Old Bailey to take his trial. He made a long -rambling defence, and occasionally his agony was so great, not for his -impending fate, but from recollection of the sufferings of a wife, whom -he described with fondness, that it deeply affected all present. It was -attempted to prove him insane; but certainly there were no grounds for -considering him in that state which the law requires shall be proved to -exempt the murderer from capital punishment. He himself opposed that -plea. A verdict of Guilty was returned, and on the succeeding Monday -the sentence of death was carried into effect. The case was from the -first so clear, the evidence so conclusive, that the prisoner was -perhaps the only man in England who expected any other result. He seemed -to look for an acquittal. With every one else conviction and death -were thought inevitable,--indeed so much matters of course, that the -following singular announcement, through some slip of the pen, in the -_Morning Post_ of Thursday, "The trial will take place to-morrow, the -execution on Monday," was hardly viewed as reprehensible, hazardous, or -extraordinary; though certainly such a one, but in that single instance, -I have never seen. H. T. - - - - - EPIGRAM. - - "Make _hay_ while the sun shines," cried old Gaffer Grey, - When lounging to make with fair Susan _sweet_ hay. - "Keep off!" said the maiden, whose brow was o'ercast, - "_Your hey-day of life_, pray remember, has past." - R. J. - - - - - LOVE IN THE CITY. - - PREFACE. - -In offering the following dramatic production to a discerning public, -the author respectfully intimates, that, notwithstanding an accidental -similarity in name between this play and one by Mr. William Shakspeare, -in plot, language, and situations, the two dramas will be found to -differ totally. "_Love in the City_" is of that order generally -termed "the Domestic;" and, while the incidents are varied, simple, -and common-place, it is to be hoped that the _dénouement_ will be -acknowledged singularly striking and effective. - -To restore the legitimate drama, whose neglect has been so long and -uselessly deplored, has been the author's principal aim; and, in the -construction of the play here presented to the world, he trusts that he -has eminently succeeded. No German horrors have been employed; the use -of thunder and lightning has been dispensed with; not even a dance of -demons has been introduced; and, with the exception of reproducing Mr. -Clipclose, senior, in the second act, after he had shuffled off this -mortal coil, there is not an event in the whole drama, but those of -every-day occurrence. - -Although "_Love in the City_" has been expressly written for the eminent -performers whose names are attached to the _dramatis personæ_, the -author will extend a limited privilege of acting to country managers, -he receiving a clear half of the gross receipts of their respective -houses. Any offer short of this stipulation will remain unattended to. -Music-sellers may address proposals for the melodies to Mr. Richard -Bentley; and, should my attempt at piracy be detected,--the copyright -of the drama being duly entered at Stationers' Hall,--persons thus -offending are respectfully informed that they will be subjected to an -action at law. - THE AUTHOR. - Camomile-street, May 1, 1837. - - - - - LOVE IN THE CITY; - OR, ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. - - A MELODRAMATIC EXTRAVAGANZA, - _In Two Acts._ - -_As it is to be performed at the Theatre-Royal, Drury-Lane, with -rapturous applause._ - -_The words_ not _by Thomas Moore,_ nor _the music by Henry R. Bishop._ - - - DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. - -_Captain Connor_,--a gentleman from Ireland, with black whiskers and -four wives, six feet two high, a sergeant in the 2nd Life-Guards, in -love with Mrs. Clipclose, _cum multis aliis_,--MR. CHARLES KEMBLE (his -reappearance on the stage for this occasion only). - -_Mr. Robert Clipclose_,--an eminent mercer, of amorous disposition, and -in embarrassed circumstances,--MR. SHERIDAN KNOWLES. - -_Old Clipclose_,--father to Robert, a retired tradesman, afflicted by -gout and avarice, with a house at Highgate,--MR. WILLIAM FARREN. - -_His Ghost_,--MR. T. P. COOKE. - -_Jeremiah Scout_,--in the confidence of Mr. and Mrs. Clipclose, and -porter to the establishment,--MR. HARLEY. - - _Samuel Snags_, } clerks to Clipclose and Co. and men of fashion, - _Matthew Mags, and_ } their names omitted by mistake in the Court - _Philip Poppleton_, } Calendar,--MESS. LISTON, VINING, and YATES. - -_Timothy O'Toole_,--corporal, 2nd Life-Guards, troop No. 4--MR. TYRONE -POWER. - -_Benjamin Blowhard_,--trumpeter, same troop,--MR. J. RUSSELL. - -_Pieman and All-hot_,--by a POST-CAPTAIN and an ASSISTANT-SURGEON, H.P. -R.N. Their first appearance on any stage. - -_Policemen A. and S._--by two gentlemen from the country, of great -provincial celebrity. - -_Mrs. Clipclose_,--lady-like and extravagant, in love with Captain -Connor,--MRS. BUTLER, who has kindly promised to come from North America -to sustain the character, and is hourly expected, per the "Silas -Tomkins, of New York." - -_Miss Juliana Smashaway_,--a young lady of great personal attraction and -small fortune, in lodgings in Upper Stamford-street, and in love with -Captain Connor,--MISS ELLEN TREE. - -_Annette_, vulgò _Netty_,--a maid of all work, engaged to Samuel Snags, -and in love with Captain Connor,--MADAME VESTRIS. - - _Captains Wife_, _No. 1_, --MISS HELEN FAUCIT. - _Do._ _No. 2_, --MRS. YATES. - _Do._ _No. 3_, --MRS. NISBIT. - _Do._ _No. 4_, --MISS VINCENT. - -_Kitty_,--lady of the bed-chamber to Miss Smashaway,--MISS MORDAUNT. - -Men about town, women ditto, apprentices, guardsmen, police A. 27 and F. -63, attendants, &c. &c. &c. _by eminent performers_. - -_Time_, rather indefinite. _Scene_, always within sound of Bow-bell, and -chiefly in Ludgate-hill _or_ Upper Stamford-street. - - -ACT I.--SCENE I. - - Morning rather misty; St. Paul's striking - eleven, as the curtain rises to hurried music, - and discovers a haberdasher's shop with plate-glass - windows. _Snags_, _Mags_, and _Poppleton_ with sundry - assistants, their hair in papers; but evidently - preparing for business. Enter _Jeremiah Scout_ with - a watering-pot; he sprinkles the floor, while the - apprentices are arranging their neckcloths. _Snags_ - coughs, evincing a recent recovery from influenza. He - comes forward, and sings. - - AIR--_Mr. Snags._--(Guy Mannering.) - - Oh! sleep, Mr. Clipclose, - You were up all the night; - You commenced at "The Finish," - And closed with a fight. - Oh! keep yourself quiet, and sleep while you may, - Nor dream that the bailiffs are over the way. - - (_When the song ends, Poppleton advances to the front counter, and - waves his yard. Dead silence. All turn to him._) - - _Pop._--Gemmen, you know of late that trade is dull, - And the till empty, while the town is full: - Bills have come round, and bankers won't renew; - Our master's dish'd, and we are in a stew. - - _Mags._--Alas! my friends, what Poppy says is true; - All's black without, and all within is blue: - Our fates are certain,--Whitecross, or the Fleet; - Writs are sued out, and bums are in the street. - - _1st Apprentice_ (_a stout lad, with light hair, and enamelled - shirt-studs--sobbing_).--Short as short credit, shorter than short - whist, Short as a barmaid's anger when she's kiss'd; Shorter than - all, ah! Clipclose, was thy span--Oh, such a master! such a nice - young man! - - _Snags_ (_with considerable firmness and feeling_).--Come, hang it! - let's keep heart, tho' trade may fail; - It's only lying six weeks in a jail! - What with good company and sporting play, - Kind friends, sound claret, and a lady gay, - Speed the dull hours, and while the weeks away. - Time's rapid flight men scarce have time to view, - And, old scores clear'd, we open them anew. - - (_He pauses, and mounts an elevated desk; his voice and attitude - expressive of desperate determination._) - - Here, to the last, I'll take my wonted stand, - Receive the flimsies from each fair one's hand. - Courage my trumps! (_to the apprentices_;) unpaper all your hair;} - Let our gay banner wanton in the air} - To pull in flats, and make the natives stare!} - - (_All discard their papillotes, while the junior apprentice seizes a - large placard, and suspends it over the door. On a dark ground, - and in gold capitals, appears the device._ - - EMPORIUM OF ELEGANCE! - _Clipclose and Co._ - _No connexion over the way._ - _The youngest may buy._ - NO ADVANTAGE TAKEN HERE!!! - - _Sundry persons collect about the door; and a yellow cab, No. - 1357, stops._) - - _Snags (aside) to the apprentices._--Covies, be brisk; our customers - approach! - Go, Pop, and hand yon lady from her coach. - A simpering smile is still a tradesman's treasure; - Give them enough of gammon, and short measure! - - _Miss Juliana Smashaway enters._ _Mags bowing obsequiously._ - - _1st App._--Shall your cab wait, ma'am? - - _Miss S._ Ask Jarvey if he's willing. - - _Mags._--Gods! what a voice! its tones so soft, so thrilling! - - _Pop._ (_aside._)--Now, blow me tight! her beauty's downright killing! - - _Snags_ (_from his desk_).--Mags, could you give me coppers for a - shilling? - - _App._--What shall I show? silks? purple, yellow, green? - - _Miss S._--I merely want a yard of bombasin. - - _Snags_ (_in evident admiration_).--Lord! what a flash 'un! Attend - that lady, Pop; And let her have the cheapest in the shop. - - (_Poppleton introduces Miss Juliana Smashaway into the back - show-room, and the scene closes._) - - - SCENE II.--_Ludgate-hill._ - - A front drawing-room; furniture French-polished, - red silk window-curtains, and green sun-blinds; - breakfast-table laid. Enter, from her - boudoir, L. H. _Mrs. Clipclose_, fashionably dressed - in pink gingham. She advances to the chimney-piece, - and looks at an ormolu clock; her countenance showing - surprise. - - _Mrs. C._--What! not astir at almost twelve o'clock? - (_Looks in the glass_). Upon my life, a most becoming frock! - How late Bob sleeps! I think I'm getting fatter. - We both were late. (_Noise heard._) I wonder what's the matter. - I, at Vauxhall; and Bob, upon the batter. - Heigh-ho! these men are very seldom true. - I hope the captain recollects at two - We meet at Charing-cross to drive to Kew. - (_Opens the piano, and sits down._) - - AIR--_Mrs. Clipclose._--("I met her at the Fancy fair.") - - I met him in an omnibus: - He spoke not; but his sparkling eyes - Told the fond secret of his heart, - And found an answer in my sighs. - - (_Enter, from dressing-room_, R. H. _Young Clipclose, in a flowered - morning-gown, and kid slippers. He yawns while arranging sundry rings - upon his fingers._) - - TRIO--_Mr. and Mrs. Clipclose, and Annette._ - - ("Jenny put the kettle on.") - - _Mr. C._ - - Dear me! my head is aching so, - This soft white hand is shaking so; - I sure must give up raking, O! - - (_Politely turning to his lady._) - - Good morning! Mistress C. - - (_Annette appears at the door, back of the stage, as if answering the - bell._) - - _Mrs. C._ - Netty, bring the muffins up, - Put down the cream, and rince a cup; - Your master's had an extra sup-- - - (_Looking archly at her husband._) - - Ah! naughty Mister C. - - _Annette_ (_aside, presenting a note to her mistress_). - - The potboy brought this _billet-doux_. - (_Aloud._) Oh, Lord! I hear a creaking shoe, - And here will be a sweet too-roo, - With grumpy Mister C. - - _Mr. and Mrs. C., and Netty, together._ - - And here will be a sweet too-roo! - - _Gruff voice outside._ - - I say, where's Bobby C.? - - (_Enter, in a passion, Mr. Clipclose, senior._) - - _Mr. C. sen._--I say, where's Bob? Not down at twelve o'clock! - I thought to find the scoundrel taking stock; - Or, at the counter, serving folks quite civil. - - _Mrs. C._ (_pertly._)--He's going, sir. - - (_Bob vanishes._) - - _Mr. C. sen._ Ay! quickly, to the devil! - - (_Turning angrily to Mrs. C._) - - And you, gay madam! Zounds! this gown is new! - What you wore yesterday was sprigged with blue. - Upon the road to ruin, wives drive hard, - When they wear chintz at eight-and-six a yard. - - _Mrs. C._ (_disdainfully._)--If you would know the price, - ask Miss Brocard. - - _Mr. C. sen._--Hear, haughty madam, while my mind I speak, - If Bob don't mend--(_a long pause_)--I'll marry this day week! - I'll have boys too-- (_A sudden fit of coughing interrupts him._) - - _Mrs. C._ (_sarcastically_).--I'm sure the spirit's willing. - - _Mr. C. sen._--And I'll cut off your husband with a shilling! - - (_Exit, in a desperate rage. Mrs. C. and Netty laugh immoderately._) - - _Annette._--Why, bless us, madam, but the man's a bear! - At eighty-one to threat us with an heir. - - _Mrs. C._--Pish! 'tis mere dotage; his brains are in the moon. - - (_Sits down to the piano._) - - What shall I play, Net? - - _Annette._ Play "_The Bold Dragoon_." - - (_Music soft and expressive. The scene closes._) - - SCENE III.--_The back show-room._ - - Miss Juliana Smashaway surrounded - by shopmen and apprentices, all - presenting various articles, and anxious - individually to attract attention. - - _Miss S._--Lord, what nice men! their words are sweet as honey; - And, stranger still, they won't take ready money. - I fork'd a five-pound flimsy out in vain-- - They're civil men, and I'll look in again. - - _Snags_ (_beseechingly_).--Madam, your card? - - _Mags_ (_with deep emotion_). And, might I humbly press - For Miss Juliana Smashaway's address? - - _1st App._--Accept these gloves. - - _2nd App._ This tabinet from me. - - _Clipclose, jun._ (_enters hastily--appears - thunderstruck--starts--pulls off a ring, and, rushing - forward, exclaims as he presents it_,) - - And this from your devoted Robert C.! - - _Miss S._--Why, this flogs all, and Banaher's[103] beat hollow. - Gemmen, adieu! (_She bows, retiring._) - - _Clerks and Apprentices_ (_dolorously_).--She's gone! - - _Mr. C._ (_passionately_.) And I will follow! - - Exit Miss Smashaway; Clipclose - after her. She jumps into a yellow cab, - and he into a green one. Both start at a - killing pace for Blackfriars' Bridge; yellow - cab upsets a pieman, and green demolishes an - establishment of "all hot." Clerks, shopmen, - and apprentices strike their foreheads with - considerable violence, and return behind the - counters despondingly. Distant music from a - barrel-organ. Scene closes. - - SCENE IV.--_Mrs. Clipclose's Boudoir_. - - Mrs. C. in sea-green satin, - putting on a cottage bonnet with - artificial flowers. Lavender-coloured gloves - upon the toilet, and _selon la règle_, a - fresh pocket-handkerchief. Netty in attendance. - - _Annette._--Upon my life, the gemmen's hearts you'll fleece! - What is so handsome as a green pelisse? - - _Mrs. C._--Now for my love. Should Mr. C. return, - Tell him I dine with Mrs. Simon Byrn. - - _Annette._--Yes, ma'am. - - (_Jeremiah Scout enters the boudoir unannounced._) - - _Mrs. C._ (_indignantly._)--How's this? Why, Scout, you're - monstrous rude! - - _Jeremiah_ (_with strong exertion_.)--Down, my full heart! - I hope I don't intrude? The saddest news, alas, to tell I'm come! - - (_A long and harrowing pause._) - - Your husband's tapp'd by Tappington, the bum! - - TRIO--_Mrs. C., Annette, and Jerry._--(Bobbing Joan.) - - _Jer._ - My master's off to jail. - - _Mrs C._ - Bolts and chains will bind him. - - _Netty._ - Well! there's a comfort left; - One still knows where to find him. - - _Mrs. C._ - Grief for him, I'm sure, - This tender heart will smother. - - _Jer._ - I know a certain cure, - And that's to try another. - - _Trio._ - Tar-a-la-ra-la, tar-a-la-ra-loo-dy. - - _Mrs. C._ - At the thought I'll faint. - - _Annette._ - My lady's over-nice, sir! - - _Mrs. C._ - Although the cure is quaint, - I'll follow your advice, sir. - - _Jer._ - I don't, then, make too free? - - _Mrs. C._ - No, sir; upon my honour! - - _Annette._ - I'm ready for a spree. - - _Mrs. C._ - And I for Captain Connor. - - _Grand Chorus._ - Tar-a-la-ra-la. - (_With a pas de trois in character._) - -End of Act 1. Curtain falls amid a thunder of applause, and an -uproarious call for Mrs. Butler, Madame Vestris, and Mr. Harley. They -come reluctantly forward. Audience rise by general consent. Cheers and -clapping continue five minutes. Stage-bell rings. Performers retire with -their hands upon their hearts. Waving of handkerchiefs from the boxes, -bravos from the pit, and whistling from the shilling gallery. - -[103] NOTE, _by Dr. Southey._--It may be objected that a lady like Miss -Juliana Smashaway, born in Crutched Friars, and educated in a select -seminary at Kennington Cross, should use the well-known _Hibernicism_, -"This beats Banaher." But let it be remembered that she was devotedly -attached to Captain Connor; consequently, often in his company; and -hence naturally would adopt the language of one whom she "loved not -wisely, but too well." The same remark is applicable to the term -"_Too-roo_," used by Netty in the beautiful _trio_, _Act 1, Scene 2_. - - * * * * * - - - - - EPIGRAM. - - "You're a false, cruel wretch! not a year after marriage, - To try to degrade me, and put down the carriage!" - "A lady, my dear," was the answering reproach, - "Is known by her _carriage_, but not by her _coach_!" - R. J. - - - - - MRS. JENNINGS, - "WHO WANTED SOMEBODY TO CARE FOR HER." - -Theophilus Bullfinch was a bachelor, middle-aged, and sufficiently -stout to look respectable. A spare man conveys a feeling of spareness -in all things. The eye never rests so contentedly as on a fat and what -is generally termed a "comfortable-looking" personage; a stout man -carries an appearance of wealth in the very folds of his coat, and so -did Theophilus Bullfinch. But, alas! although temptation fell not in his -way, he fell in the way of Mrs. Jennings! - -"Time tells a tale,"--and we behold our bachelor located at a -watering-place, no less famous for the civility and unimposing character -of its inhabitants than the select nature of its visiters,--Margate. -This, no one, we are sure, will venture to deny, who has "seasoned" it -for three or four months. The kindly feelings of its inhabitants are -perceptible even in its ass-drivers. Where will you find such fatherly -boys to their donkeys,--such yellow shoes,--such society, as at Margate? -We are sure our readers will say with us, Nowhere! - -Theophilus felt this; and ventured a trip, and a house, for he bought -one, urged thereto by a lady acquaintance, by name Mrs. Palaver,--a lady -who drove not only her husband, but a pair of ponies, and astonished -the eyes both of "quality" and "natives" by the way she did the -genteel,--that is, as far as her ponies went: for herself, she had -a soul above mean approbation. Among the "select" at the libraries, -Mrs. P. was the ruling star; and, to judge not only from the redness -of her face, but as her husband could testify, Mars in petticoats. -She shilling-loo'd and "one-in-three'd," even to the hinderance of -"The Concert;" but no one bore interruptions of this nature with so -much philosophical sweetness as Old Bones, the proprietor; and as the -"one-in-threes" bore to him a profit of three to one, the dulcet tones -of the signora of the rooms were often eclipsed by Mrs. P.'s _shake_, -or "_go_," as it is called. Our readers may be curious as to the name -of the "signora:" it was Mrs. Nobs by day, Signora Nobini by night. And -such a voice! The little boys in Hawley-square heard as well as the -company inside,--in fact rather better, for they complained of its being -a _leetle_ too forte. - -But although Mrs. Palaver put down shillings, she picked up -friends,--dear souls of the newest importation,--and among the rest -Mrs. Jennings. Mrs. Jennings was a widow who "_wanted somebody to care -for her_." She had a small independence, and, if we may venture to -judge from subsequent events, a _very_ small independence; in fact, -it might be doubted if it were an independence at all. She was tall, -scraggy, and thin--we use a homely simile--as a pancake; the effect of -grief, doubtless. She had lost a husband, she said, who doted on her; -and, having lost so great a treasure, can we wonder at her unwearied -exertions to obtain a fresh supply of affection? Theophilus was a man -of money. Mrs. Jennings could not boast of the same golden fruit; and, -as she wanted "_somebody to care for her_," she fixed her eye--a grey -one--upon Theophilus Bullfinch. - -"They met," not in a "crowd," but at a tea and card party; at the -mutual friend's, Mrs. Palaver, where real eighteenpenny Cape, and -diamond-cut sandwiches of the size and thinness of a three-cornered -note, indicated the gentility of the lady of the house. Theophilus -and the widow were partners,--a beginning not to be despised. Mrs. -Jennings looked confusion over her hand, and vowed her heart must -fall to his king of clubs. Theophilus blushed; she sighed, and intent -upon a _new game_, lost the rubber! Theophilus paid for himself; the -widow had a mind above trifles. Theophilus was tempted,--what man is -not at times?--and paid for Mrs. Jennings. The first stone was laid, -and the widow saw the church already built, the door open, and the -parson's hand in the same inviting position. The next morning, Mrs. -Jennings, our bachelor, and the _mutual friend_ were to perambulate -the fields, or rather corn-fields, and numerous of the "quality" were -drifting along the chalky roads on an equestrian tour; asses were at a -premium, and young ladies legs _going up_. Our party wended their way, -and Mrs. J. talked of the days when she and Mr. J. made love in a corn -field. If she had only somebody _to care for her_!--and Mrs. Jennings -squeezed something very like a tear into the corners of her eyes. We -know not what effect they might have had on the dear departed, but to -our bachelor they appeared the essence of affection,--pretty little -drops, distilled from that great alembic, the heart. Theophilus, we -have before hinted, was unused to the sweet witchery of womankind, -and in the simplicity of his soul thought tears must be a natural -production! Let not the wise in the lore of matrimony laugh at his -ignorance,--Theophilus was a bachelor! - -He was touched by this unexampled proof of, to him, affection; and, -drawing himself into closer proximity with Mrs. Jennings than he had -before ventured, began-- - -"My dear ma'am, don't distress yourself. Men are like ears of corn." - -"I know it," cried Mrs. Jennings, twisting one round her finger as she -spoke. - -"Like grass, ma'am; and Time's scythe mows down husbands and fathers!" - -"Oh! oh!" sobbed the widow. - -"Is there anything I can do to comfort you, ma'am?" asked Theophilus -inquiringly. - -Mrs. Jennings looked assent, and kept twisting the ear of corn. - -"A good wife, ma'am, is a jewel,--the tears are still in your eyes,--and -will you allow me to make you an offer----" - -"An offer!" said Mrs. Jennings; and the tears, spite of herself, shrunk -back, as though ashamed of what they were doing,--"an offer!" - -"Of my handkerchief," said Theophilus. - -A clover-field is a dangerous thing to walk in. Philosophers may divine -the cause,--we only know it is so; sentiment is not for the highway: -love and clover are synonymous. Mrs. Jennings knew this, and trotted the -unsuspecting, uninitiated Theophilus into one, accordingly. Poppies, -we know not why, do grow in clover; and Bullfinch--he was fond of -botanising--plucked one, and, lamenting that violets were out of bloom, -gave it to Mrs. Jennings. This was enough; and she whispered to the lady -who was doing _thirdy_, "He must mean something." - -The town residence of Theophilus Bullfinch was in one of the squares -in the neighbourhood of the Museum. But what is a house if it want a -woman's smile? So thought Mrs. Jennings and she let no opportunity pass -of "popping in;"--we are grieved to say the _popping_ was all upon her -side. She would call as she was passing--the day was so hot--to -take a rest; or the day was so cold, and she wanted--the truth must be -spoken--a warm! What could Theophilus do? With a grim welcome on his -face, and a "D--n the woman!" in his heart, he grumbled out, "You'd -better take a chair." Mrs. Jennings did, and anything else she could -get. But getting was a point not easily arrived at; for if Bullfinch -loved one thing more than another, it was himself. She would bring him, -by way of treat, wrapt in the corner of her pocket handkerchief; five -or six nice little ginger-cakes, of her own making, of the size, and -bearing a strong family likeness to what children call "sixes;" but -finding all her entreaties thrown away, and her ginger-cakes likely to -be in the same predicament, she would in the liberality of her soul -take them into the kitchen by way of present to the housekeeper, who -"pshaw'd!" as soon as her back was turned, and, enlarging upon the -merits of her own ginger-cakes, gave them to the maid, and she--they -went no farther: servant-maids have good appetites. - -What woman could bear these slights of fortune tamely? We can take upon -ourselves to say Mrs. Jennings did not; but, intent upon the one great -object of a woman's life,--a husband,--she let no opportunity pass of -reporting that herself and Theophilus were shortly to be one, fully -convinced of the fact that, though marriages may be made in heaven, -there is nothing like speculating upon them on earth; and hoping, no -doubt, to discover the true philosophers stone, which "turneth all to -gold,"--Theophilus was a man of wealth,--she left no stone unturned to -get him; and, to give things an appearance, she sat herself down--we -tremble as we write--in no less a place than his bedroom, determined not -to quit it until, as she observed, "there was an understanding between -them." Theophilus was horror-stricken, the housekeeper no less so, and -the servant-maid all flutters and ribbons. - -"Oh! oh!" gasped the widow, "you base man!--a weak woman as I am!" - -"Very!" grunted Theophilus. - -The housekeeper here interfered. "What's the use of crying about it? Why -don't you look after somebody else?" - -"Ah!" sobbed the widow, "you don't know what's atwixt us!" - -"I wish the street-door was," thought Bullfinch. - -The lady was inexorable. "The poppy," she said, "had done the business! -If she had only _someone to care for her_!" Her feelings overcame her, -and she lay upon the bed in agony of finely-developed grief, we presume, -for the convenience of fainting. - -Theophilus was at his wits' end, and a something very like a "D--n me!" -was at his tongue's; but, "nursing his wrath," and echoing the words -of an Eastern sultan, that "he who finds himself in a fire ought to be -resigned to the Divine will; but whoever is out of the fire ought to be -careful, and keep himself in his happy state." Thus far he thought with -Mahomet; so he put on his hat and sallied forth, leaving Mrs. Jennings -in undisputed possession of his bed. Whether this argued a want of -taste, or was only a chastening of the spirit, we will not attempt -to define; but certain it is he went out, and the widow, finding her -efforts ineffectual, did the ditto. - -Days passed, and so did Mrs. Jennings the house; the servant-maid, -with a prudent industry, answering the door in the area. Bullfinch -(in a money-getting lane in the City the curious reader will see the -Co. written after it) was a merchant; and as, in the ordinary course -of things, it is necessary to emerge into the streets previously to -reaching the place "where merchants most do congregate," what was to -be done?--for never did cat watch a rat-hole more patiently, more -hungrily, than the widow the doorway of his house. His modesty was not -widow-proof; and the only way to shun her, was by a back-door, which -opened into a mews: patiently picking his way through mire and dirty -straw, did Theophilus, cursing widows and poppies, wend his way; whilst -she--patience had ceased to be a virtue--vowed vengeance in the streets. - -On a wet day, a day of gloom and splash,--the streets running rivers, -and the skies shedding drops like pebbles,--the passengers dripping, -drenching,--and the New Police, all love and oil-skin, sheltering -themselves under doors and gateways,--sat Theophilus Bullfinch, Esq. in -his easy-chair, brightening the blaze of warm fire by a fresh "stir," -smugly sipping his wine, and in the uprising of his heart wishing -confusion to all widows, and devoting a full glass to the particular -condemnation of Mrs. Jennings. Every now and then he cast an eye to the -patting rain and floating streets, and thanked Heaven which had set the -fruits of fortune ripened for his plucking, and given him that which -made life like a full cup, that he could drink from, nor tire of. He sat -in "contemplation sweet." - -"Whence comes that knocking?" he might have said, had not the -servant-maid saved him the trouble, by saying a young man wanted to see -him. - -"Me!" ejaculated Theophilus. - -"Yes, sir," was the reply, and, after much scrubbing on the doormat, -in a vein endeavour to rub his boots clean, the _young man_ was shown -up, soaked to the skin, and dripping like a watering-pot. Theophilus -opened his eyes; the young man took the same liberty with his mouth, and -inquired if his name was Bullfinch? The answer was in the affirmative. -A chair was set; the servant left the room, and, looking at the muddy -footsteps on the stair-carpets, uttered sundry pretty little sayings -about "dirty feet," "her trouble in the morning;" &c. and retailed her -complaints to the goddess of the kitchen. - -The young man commenced by saying he had brought a little account. - -"And a great deal of wet," gently murmured Theophilus. "A little -account!" - -"Yes, sir,--for board and lodging." - -Bullfinch opened his eyes still wider, and echoed "Board and lodging!" - -"The bill, sir, is four-and-twenty pounds." - -Another echo, and still higher uplifting of the eyebrows: "Where do you -come from?" - -"Blackheath, sir." - -"Blackheath! What! _through_ the rain?" - -The young man ventured a smile as he replied, "No, sir; I wish I had." - -"Board and lodging!--you must have made a mistake." - -"Oh no, sir," said the young man; "here is the bill,--twenty-four weeks, -at a pound a-week, as a parlour-boarder, at Mrs. Twig's establishment -for young ladies." - -Theophilus looked suspiciously at his silver spoons, and eyed the -bell-rope. But a new light seemed to break upon him at the mention of -the word "establishment," as he replied, - -"I am afraid, my good sir, the 'establishment' you come from is in St. -George's Fields. I a parlour-boarder at a young ladies' school!" - -"No, sir; not _you_." - -"Who then?" cried Theophilus. - -"Mrs. Jennings, sir." - -"Mrs. Who!" - -"Jennings, sir." - -Bullfinch sunk back into his uneasy-chair. "Mrs. Jennings!--Mrs. Devil!" -and in the bitterness of his spleen he deemed her no less a personage. -"Mrs. ----" The word, like Macbeth's _amen_, "stuck in his throat." - -There was a pause. At length, plucking his courage by the ears, he -continued; "And do you expect me to pay for this old ----!" We omit the -word; no lady admires being likened to a dog. - -"If you please, sir, I have put 'paid' to the bill." - -"That's lucky, for it's the only way you'll ever have the satisfaction -of seeing it 'paid.' Four-and-twenty pounds!--not so many farthings!" -but the goodness of his disposition got the better of his anger as he -added, "unless to buy her a rope." - -It is needless to dwell longer upon this occurrence, further than by -saying, that the "young man," finding the bill not in a way of being -"settled," or Mrs, Jennings either, took his beaver, or--we like to be -particular--his four-and-ninepenny, no longer a hat, but a piece of -ornamented brown paper in a fine state of decomposition, and was in the -act of leaving the room, when rat! tat! tat! went the door, and another -young man was announced with a bill for acceptance, drawn by Messrs. -Lutestring & Co. for silks, flannels &c. supplied to--Mrs. Jennings! -Monsieur Tonson was nothing to this! Another knock, and a female was -ushered up with a yard-long bill for millinery, &c. done for--Mrs. -Jennings! The "Storm" upon the grand piano was a mere puff to that -raised by Bullfinch. He swore, raved, ordered them from his house, and -finally, thrusting his head between his hands, groaned a bitter groan, -and, smiting his brow, cried, "Oh, that d--d poppy!" - -The following morning, a suspicious-looking person, of a pick-pockety -exterior, and belonging to a similar industrious calling--he was a -lawyer's clerk--knocked at the knocker of Theophilus Bullfinch, and with -that gentlemanly ease and accomplished manner so peculiar to young men -in the law, handed to the aforesaid personage a letter, prettily worded, -and headed "Jennings _versus_ Bullfinch." It was a notice of action for -"breach." - -Tremble, oh, ye bachelors!--and oh, ye spinsters! smirk in the hope -of one day convincing the world you _ought_ to have been married. Mrs. -Jennings was of the same opinion, and, in a spirit of justice to her -sex, put her case into the hands of Messrs. Twist and Strainer, as -respectable a firm as ever undertook a "breach of promise case." It is -needless to say they issued their process with becoming expedition; and -Bullfinch, sorely galled, mastered his antipathy,--we cannot but think -a very foolish one,--and applied to an attorney!--in the hope--men -catch at straws--that an attorney _might_ be an honest man! Alas! that -a person of his years should not have more wisdom!--It is perhaps -necessary to inform the reader that the damages were laid at five -thousand pounds. - -The day of trial arrived. Theophilus, with a blushing face and tremulous -heart, squeezed himself into a seat beside his legal adviser; his -eyes upon the floor, and his hands feelingly placed in his pockets. -He fancied all eyes bent on his, and smarted under them as they were -burning-glasses. By degrees his timidity abated, and at the bustle -occasioned by the judge coming into court had so far summoned courage -as to raise his eyes. They met, "gently beaming," the eyes of Mrs. -Jennings, who was seated in the gallery. He would rather have looked on -a wolf's; but a sort of fascination, as birds feel looking at serpents, -kept them fixed,--nailed to the eyes of what seemed to him his evil -genius; whilst she, with the bland look of injured innocence, jerked a -few tears into her eyes, and, taking out her pocket-handkerchief,--a -clean one for the occasion,--wept, that is, she appeared to do so; but a -woman's tears, like her ornaments, are not always real. - -She looked, and Bullfinch spell-bound met her gaze; but, as a friend of -ours once said, "He gave her a look!" - -The proceedings commenced. The learned counsel opened the case by -enlarging upon "the enormity of the defendant's crime, and the -plaintiff's unprotected state; a crime," the learned counsel went on -to say, "unparalleled in the annals of the law; a crime, my lord and -gentlemen, which breaks into the peace of families, and takes from -the lovely and the virtuous that jewel no wealth can barter,--her -reputation, gentlemen, her unspotted, her unblushing reputation! Not -that I would be understood to accuse the defendant of seduction. No, -gentlemen; the lady whose case I am pleading is too fair a flower to be -hurt by his calumniating breath!--she is----" - -Here Theophilus uttered a word; we are grieved we cannot repeat it; -but the officer of the court bawled "Silence!" in so loud a tone as -completely to drown it. The learned counsel continued: - -"Yes, my lord and gentlemen, the defendant--I blush, gentlemen, I -blush," and the learned counsel was evidently overcome with the novelty -of his situation,--"the defendant is a man," he resumed, "past the -intoxicating meridian of life, when the feelings of youth flutter like -bees sipping flowers of the fairest hue. He has proved himself----" - -Another ejaculation from Theophilus, and again the officer "Silence'd!" - -"He has proved himself a monster of the blackest dye,--a reptile who -ought to be crushed off the face of the earth! Oh, gentlemen, did you -but know the lady as I do,--have known the sanctity of her private life, -and the ethereal nature of her public one; her loveliness, her virgin -excellence, beloved by relations, idolized by her family!" The lades in -the gallery were visibly affected, and looked daggers at the brute of a -defendant. The counsel, after a pause, resumed: "This, gentlemen, is the -being for whom I am to plead. Englishmen will, I am sure, never desert -the ladies!" - -The jury-box felt the appeal, and looked proudly dignified; and after -dwelling for two hours and three quarters on "the villain who by his -insidious wiles"--Theophilus looked patiently unconscious of his Don -Juan accomplishments--"had wormed himself into the lady's affections, -and then basely left her, a daisy on the stalk, to pine!" he called -upon them as husbands,--"Think of your wives," continued the counsel: -they evidently did, and looked anything but pleased; and urging them as -fathers and as men to give the plaintiff such damages as the enormity of -the crime and the wealth of the defendant warranted, the learned counsel -sat down, evidently to the satisfaction of himself and all who heard him. - -It is needless to dwell longer upon this interesting trial, as the -curiously inclined may read a full account of it in any newspaper of the -date, and therein they will see it stated in evidence how the "mutual -friend" bore witness to Mr. Bullfinch picking the poppy and paying -for the widow at cards. Theophilus had often accused himself of the -folly, and sundry other little etceteras "too numerous to mention." -The housekeeper, in being cross-examined, also bore evidence, though -much against her will, to the intimacy of the parties. The maid--women -invariably hold by each other--always considered master _'gaged_ to -Mrs. Jennings. The jury seemed to think so too, and returned a verdict -of--Theophilus never recovered the shock--five hundred pounds! - -Ye elderly bachelors, and ye bachelors of all degrees, hear this and -pause! There are specks in the sun; can you, in the vanity of your -hearts, think women more immaculate? Alas, the error! Pause then, and, -whenever you play at cards with a lady, think of Theophilus Bullfinch, -and never pay for your partner; and for the rest of your lives, if you -would escape actions for "breach," never pick poppies, or walk in clover -with widows! - -"After all," said Theophilus, as he wrote a check for the amount of -damages, and another for the costs, "even this is better than being -bothered by Mrs. Jennings, especially as she _wanted somebody to care -for her_." H. H. - - - - - HINTS FOR AN HISTORICAL PLAY, - TO BE CALLED - WILLIAM RUFUS; OR, THE RED ROVER. - - - ACT 1. - - Walter Tyrrel, the son of a Norman Papa, - Has, somehow or other, a Saxon Mamma: - Though humble, yet far above mere vulgar loons, - He's a sort of a Sub in the Rufus dragoons; - Has travell'd but comes home abruptly, the rather - That some unknown rascal has murder'd his father; - And scarce has he pick'd out, and stuck in his quiver, - The arrow that pierc'd the old gentleman's liver, - When he finds, as misfortunes come rarely alone, - That his Sweetheart has bolted,--with whom is not known. - But, as murder will out, he at last finds the lady - At court, with her character grown rather shady; - This gives him the "Blues," and impairs the delight - He'd have otherwise felt when they dub him a Knight - For giving a runaway stallion a check, - And preventing his breaking King Rufus's neck. - - - ACT 2. - - Sir Walter has dress'd himself up like a Ghost, - And frightens a soldier away from his post; - Then, discarding his helmet, he pulls his cloak higher, - Draws it over his ears, and pretends he's a Friar. - This gains him access to his Sweetheart, Miss Faucit; - But, the King coming in, he hides up in her closet, - Where, oddly enough, among some of her things - He discovers some arrows he's sure are the King's, - Of the very same pattern with that which he found - Sticking into his father when dead on the ground! - Forgetting his funk, he bursts open the door, - Bounces into the Drawing-room, stamps on the floor, - With an oath on his tongue, and revenge in his eye, - And blows up King William the Second sky-high, - Swears, storms, shakes his fist, and exhibits such airs, - That his Majesty bids his men kick him down stairs. - - - ACT 3. - - King RUFUS is cross when he comes to reflect - That as King he's been treated with gross disrespect; - So he pens a short note to a holy physician, - And gives him a rather unholy commission, - Viz. to mix up some arsenic and ale in a cup, - Which the chances are Tyrrel may find and drink up. - Sure enough, on the very next morning, Sir Walter - Perceives in his walks this same cup on the altar. - As he feels rather thirsty, he's just about drinking, - When Miss Faucit, in tears, comes in running like winking; - He pauses of course, and, as she's thirsty too, - Says, very politely, "Miss F., after you!" - The young Lady curtsies, and, being so dry, - Raises somehow her fair little-finger so high, - That there's not a drop left him to "wet t'other eye:" - While, the dose is so strong, to his grief and surprise, - She merely says, "Thankee, Sir Walter!" and dies. - At that moment the King, who is riding to cover, - Pops in _en passant_ on the desperate lover, - Who has vow'd, not five minutes before, to transfix him; - --So he does,--he just pulls out his arrow and sticks him. - From the strength of his arm, and the force of his blows, - The Red-bearded Rover falls flat on his nose; - And Sir Walter, thus having concluded his quarrel, - Walks down to the foot-lights, and draws this fine moral. - - "Ladies and Gentlemen, - Lead sober lives;-- - Don't meddle with other folks' Sweethearts or Wives!-- - When you go out a sporting, take care of your Gun, - And--Never shoot elderly people for fun!" - - - - - JOHN POOLEDOUNE, - THE VICTIM OF IMPROVEMENTS! - -It was on a fine warm day in June, several years before Beulah Spa -was invented, that, eviting leafy Hampstead, and airy Highgate, and -woody Hornsey, John Pooledoune, with a party of companions, sought -the delights of a rural ramble and pic-nic, amid the sylvan scenery -of Norwood. Of the journey thither, the sporting there, the banquet -on the grass, the hilarious after-dinner bumpers, the casting away of -bottles, and the wide-spread waste of orts, there is no occasion to -speak; suffice it to state, that the frolic and profusion attracted a -visit from a couple of dark-haired and bright-glancing Gipsies, whose -sojourn was thereabouts, and who, though reckless of the present, were, -or pretended to be, deeply read in the future. Their appearance added -to the merriment of the occasion; and, with that natural curiosity -which belongs to human nature, our revellers agreed to have a peep into -futurity palmed upon them, at the small cost of a few silver coins. -One after another were their lines submitted to Sibyllic inspection; -and loud were their laughs as the pretty "brows of Egypt" bent over -their destinies, and told of coming estates, and wives, and children, -and, sooth to add, little amours and indiscretions which nevertheless -promised pleasures hardly less acceptable to the expectant listeners. At -length it fell to the turn of Jack Pooledoune, who was indeed so well -off in the world, that he had little either to hope or to fear from the -fickle goddess; when, all at once, a sudden chill crept over the group, -"a change came o'er the spirit of their dream," and the hitherto gay and -giggling priestesses of mystery assumed aspects of horror and dismay. -What before was curiosity was now intense interest. Whence the cause of -this awful alteration?--why had mirth in a moment given place to these -boding looks and signs of terror? Time and our tale will show; and we -have only here to record the prediction reluctantly wrung from one of -the distraught and shuddering Gipsies. - -"Oh! strange unfortunate Fortunate!" she exclaimed as she conned John -Pooledoune's hand, - - "By making rich, made poor; - By making happy, miserable; - By amending, hurt; by curing, slain; - -never Lost on earth, alive or dead, yet Found by numbers; bodiless -corpse; _The Victim of Improvement_, for ever to improve;-- - - "No hand to close thy eyes, - No eye to see thy grave, - No grave to give thee rest,-- - STRANGE BEING! - -Dead; resembling Death, yet keeping thy place among the dead and the -living; thy end shall not be an ending, and every one shall know that -thou art and art not!" - -With this fearful prophecy the Gipsies took to their heels; and Jack, -with an oath at their impudent mummery, shied half a half-quartern loaf -at their retreating heads. The iced punch was speedily resumed; but, so -strong is the hold of superstition upon us, even when wine and punch -have infused a factitious courage, it was found impossible to re-animate -the convivial festival, and the party returned to town, either in silent -abstraction, or reverting to and commenting on the oddness of the Gipsy -foolery! - -Old Roger Pooledoune was one of the busiest and most substantial of -hosiers in the ward of Cheap; a respectable citizen, whose heart and -soul were in his business, to which he attended from morning to night -as if, instead of toil, it were pleasure; and indeed it did comprehend -the mighty pleasure of profit, the be-all and the end-all of many a -cit. Stockings, stocks, and socks, braces, collars, gloves, nightcaps, -and garters, were all the same to honest Roger; and he would serve his -customers with equal cordiality with every one of these articles, from -the price of a grey groat to the cost of sterling gold. Thus he dealt -and throve. His shop was never empty, for his commodities were reputed -to be of good quality; and, in process of years, his industry was -rewarded with such increase, that his neighbours declared him to be a -warm man, and guessed his worth at no less than thirty thousand pounds. -Nor were they far wrong. - -Roger, like a man ignorant of Malthus, had in the midst of all his -occupations found leisure to court and win a wife; and, in due process, -a certain portion of the stock in the warehouse, namely, some very small -socks, gaiters, &c. had to be transferred _gratis_ to the nursery, -where Isabella, Matilda, and Margaret, and last, John Pooledoune, the -only son, the fruits of his marriage-bed, required such equipments from -their fond father,--the fonder in consequence of the last family event -having made him a widower. Twenty years had elapsed since that period -of mingled joy and woe, of birth and death,--the conjunction of the two -extremes of human life,--when it occurred to the corporation of the -city of London that it would be a vast improvement in the approaches -thereto, and accommodation to the traffic thereof, to have a new bridge -thrown across the bosom of old Father Thames, just where it suited a -company of keen-sighted, speculative, and money-making gentry to have -that operation performed for the public and their own benefit. It so -happened that the site so agreeable to them was exceedingly disagreeable -to Roger Pooledoune, inasmuch as it created a necessity for carrying a -street, as it were the string of a bow, direct to the bridge, not only -leaving his shop at the farthest bend of the said bow, but plunging it -into an unfrequented valley, or _cul de sac_, at which it was irksome -to look from the popular balustrades of the recent direct and splendid -erections. Old Roger, it is true, claimed and received a handsome,--a -very handsome, and neighbourly, and citizen-like compensation: for -his loss in the daily sale of nightcaps and garters was estimated at -the sum of fourteen thousand eight hundred and seventy-seven pounds -sixteen shillings and fivepence three farthings: but, like Othello, his -occupation was gone. The money obtained in a lump was not like the money -gained by slow and minute degrees. He became uncomfortable, uneasy, -irritable; he would gaze up towards the new street to the new bridge, -and, counting the passing crowds, would calculate on the proportional -passing demand for ready-made hosiery of every description. The whole -was diverted into another channel: he could not bear the sight, he could -not endure the idea; and so he pined, and he sickened, and he died, for -want of a brisk retail. - -The disposition of the defunct hosier's property was such as might be -expected from a wealthy and prudent tradesman. He had sunk the fourteen -thousand and odd pounds in annuities on his three daughters, and so tied -them up, that none but themselves--nor brother, nor friend, nor husband, -nor lover--could receive the half-yearly dividends; and, if loan or -mortgage were attempted upon them, they were forfeited for ever. Thus -were they provided with inalienable competencies for the terms of their -natural lives. To John was left the residue, which, when the good will -of the shop was with good will disposed of for nothing, everything else -settled, and affairs wound up, was ascertained to amount to the neat -round sum of two-and-thirty thousand pounds; and thus warmly provided, -the gipsy foredoomed Victim of Improvements began the world, his own -master, and for himself alone. - -John Pooledoune had received what is called a first-rate "commercial -and classical education," at a boarding-school near Deptford, where -these identical words were painted in capital letters on a board which -ran along the entire façade of the building. He had thus been prepared -for more general and severer pursuits; and accordingly, about that era -when the first drum was beat for the March of Intellect, he enrolled -himself in the ranks for the diffusion of knowledge, and, to speak -comparatively, soon reached the distinction of a halbert in the cause. -He became a leading man in the Mechanics' Institutes, attended lectures -on every possible subject at least five evenings in every week, was -elected a member of the Society of Arts and of the Statistical Society, -joined the British Association at Bristol,[104] and, in fine, adopted -the most admired course to become a utilitarian of the first water. He -was acknowledged to be an independent, and sensible, and well-informed -individual; he needed neither favour nor assistance, had plenty of ready -money in the funds, and was courted and caressed accordingly. He was, in -short, a faultless monster. - -But not only had Fortune been kind to him; Nature was equally liberal: -he was well-proportioned in lith and limb; stout, healthy, and -well-looking. If not a perfect, but, rather, as George the Fourth would -say, an ungentlemanly gentleman, he was not a vulgar plebeian; and, -altogether, hardly ever did a man start in the middle walks of life with -so fair a promise of prosperity and happiness. John Pooledoune had the -silver spoon to his mouth,--the salt of the earth to his portion. - -With such qualities, and to such a character, inactivity was impossible. -Inclination and means led to projects of utility, and John was -determined to benefit mankind by his efforts in promoting the ingenious -conceptions of the clever and the "talented." His apartments were -encumbered with models, his chairs and his tables laden with plans; nay, -he even fancied at times that he was himself an inventor. It was, to be -sure, only in a small way, but it kept the ruling passion in a blaze; -and when he took out his first patent for a broom to eat its own dust, -his ecstasies had nearly laid him with the dust, to which he was thus -made doubly akin. - -It is wonderful to behold how many of our species, full of the most -extraordinary and indubitable inventions, from which indescribable -riches must accrue, languish in abject poverty: to such, a John -Pooledoune is a god-send, even though it may be that in the issue he -is reduced to fraternization. He was the friend of projectors, the -believer in perfectibility, but singularly unlucky in nearly all his -undertakings. Of these we must mention a few, the leading incidents of a -brief career. - -We have alluded to the patent for a dust-consuming broom, with which -John was so marvellously elated. The worst of it was, that it involved -him in a law-suit with Mr. Pratt, who clearly proved to the judge and -jury that he had perfected a similar besom five years before. It was -in vain that John's counsel argued that his broom acted transversely, -not horizontally; and possessed a vertical, not a rotary action; in -vain he asserted that new brooms swept cleanest: the verdict was for -the plaintiff; and the infringement of the right to use a useless brush -cost Mr. Pooledoune within a trifle of a thousand pounds. The lawyers -and attorneys declared that it was a shameful verdict, and advised -Mr. Pooledoune to move for a new trial; but he had sense enough to be -satisfied with one. - -Misfortunes, we are told, never come single. Like crows, if you see one -alight on a field, you may be pretty sure there will soon be a few more, -and probably a flock; and so it fell out with our hero's mischances. - -A company was formed upon the most admirable principles to supply the -metropolis with pure water instead of the abomination hitherto imbibed -from the polluted river, the grand recipient of the filth of a million -and a half of nasty people. It was to be brought from Tonbridge Wells, -laid on in crystal pipes, and supplied with a bounty that defied -competition. John Pooledoune became a large shareholder and a director; -but somehow or other the stream did not run smooth, the crystal pipes -broke, and so did the company; and John, being a responsible person, -got out with the largest share--of the loss. He next embarked in gas -works, the most prosperous that ever were demonstrated by calculations -and estimates on the tables printed by the projectors. But this design, -alas! also failed: the gas dissolved into thin air; and another -troublesome and expensive law-suit proved that the thousands of tons of -coke which had been consumed were utterly wasted, as their use in that -particular way, custom, and manner, was not sanctioned by Coke upon -Lyttleton.--See _Vesey's Reports_, div. 4, cap. 3, lib. 2, page 1. - -This was another rather severe blow upon Mr. Pooledoune, who began to -reflect on the uncertainty of all pursuits of the kind. "I will not," -said he to himself, "risk any more considerable sums in such plans. -Houses and lands," said he, "are certain, real, visible, tangible -property: I will buy an estate and build a house upon it." Accordingly, -day after day did he examine those oracles of truth, the morning -newspapers; and particularly that portion of them which is the truest -of the true, the advertisements of the auctioneers. Long did he ponder -over the most desirable of investments, the most eligible of sites, the -paradises of nature, the soils which scantily concealed inexhaustible -mines, the views of hanging woods whose trees never changed their -fruits: long did he balance which it were best to possess; and at last -he was fortunate enough to be allowed to purchase one of George Robins' -most extraordinary bargains, an estate which was positively "given -away". It was nevertheless dear enough to the buyer; and the seller -had not so much reason as might be imagined to be dissatisfied with the -prodigal liberality of his agent on the occasion. The land was found -to be susceptible of no inconsiderable improvement; and the charming, -picturesque, indescribably interesting, and gothically elegant, fine, -ancient mansion, was in truth little better than an inconvenient and -incongruous pile of ruins. But as Mr. Pooledoune had, from the first, -intended to cultivate the earth in his own way, and to erect a mansion -upon his own design, these slight discrepancies did not so much signify. -The titles were actually good, and old Hurlépoer Hall was regularly -transferred, made over, granted, and assigned to its new proprietor, -John Pooledoune, esquire. It is a proud thing to be an esquire, the -owner of broad acres, to walk over fields you can call your own, to -speak of your domain and your country house, of your Hurlépoer Hall, -and the parts and appurtenances thereunto pertaining. Never did John -Pooledoune feel so elevated as when he arrived in a post-chaise to take -possession of his beautiful estate. It was only an amusing drawback, -which served to occupy his time, that he had to pull down the old hall -and re-edify it in a modern style. There was ready money, and the work -went briskly on, till at last a handsome villa stood where Hurlépoer, -or at least some of its walls, had outbraved the winds and rains two -hundred winters. It was christened Hosiery Hall by some of the poor and -envious landlords round about; but it was nevertheless a very pretty -place, and constructed on the most novel and approved principles of -architecture. The foundations were laid in Roman cement, the timbers -were steeped to saturation in Kyan's anti-dry-rot composition, and -the roof was of patent cast-iron. Nor had Mr. P. during the season -been inattentive to the cultivation of his ground. The steward, a -positive, ignorant, and impracticable ass, was dismissed the service, -for insisting upon sowing wheat, and barley, and oats; laying certain -portions fallow, and turnip-cropping other parts. The squire taking -affairs into his own hands, the farm-horses were sold, and a wonderfully -perfect steam-plough put into operation. Instead of turnips, the -cow-cabbage was introduced, and room left about every plant to allow it -to extend to its full dimensions of from eighteen to twenty-two feet in -diameter. The corn-arable was converted into plantations of beetroot for -the manufacture of sugar, and a thousand hogsheads for its reception -were ordered of the coopers. Everything went on tolerably well for a -while, except the plough, which always refused to move up hill or to go -straight on the level, and very soon denied motion in any manner, or -in any direction. Mr. Pooledoune, incensed at this misconduct, which -he attributed to the stupidity of the ploughman and the malice of the -quondam driver, who had no longer any horses to drive, and consequently -went whistling alongside, occasionally eyeing his useless whip, as if -he would gladly apply it to his master's back, in a moment of anger -took the stilts himself, to show the boors how it ought to be done. -He poked the fire and filled the kettle, and off set the machine with -a run. Unluckily there was a great stone in the line of the furrow, -against which the plough was dashed with so much force that it tilted -up, and, throwing down its unfortunate holder, dashed the burning coals -and boiling steam all over his body. Dreadfully scalded, it was many -weeks before the squire was sufficiently convalescent to leave his -room; and when he did once again visit his _ci-devant_ green fields, it -was as a cripple from the severe accident. The melancholy of autumn, -too, was upon the scene,--a melancholy untempered to him by the sight of -sweeps of ripened grain, (the yellow gold of nature,) and the busy hum -of harvest. The season had been unusually dry, and the soil was chalky. -Owing to this the cow-cabbages had not flourished, and only one here and -there was visible, and about the ordinary size of a tailor's dinner, -though with plenty of room to grow larger if it liked. The cultivation -of the beetroot was hardly more successful; still there was wherewithal -to try the experiment of sugar-making, and to this our sanguine hero -turned with his indomitable spirit. The process went on, and the roots -were crushed;--so, speedily, were his hopes. Twenty-seven barrels of -bad molasses was the produce of above eight hundred acres of the best -land belonging to Hurlépoer Hall. It was a year of dead loss, and there -was nothing left for it but to get through the winter as comfortably as -possible, and prepare for taking the field in the spring with greater -experience, and a more _improved_ system throughout. - -It is a well-known fact with regard to the weather in England, that if -there be a balance of good and bad, the latter never fails to occupy -its fair proportion of foulness. As the summer had been unusually warm -and dry, the winter turned out unusually cold and wet. The rain hardly -ceased during four months, the country was a swamp, and there was not -even enough for a dry joke in the parish. One night the storm descended, -hail was shaken and lightning glanced from the wings of the mighty -tempest: it was a _perfect_ hurricane, (for hurricanes are so called -when they are most fearfully outrageous,) and blew great guns. In the -midst of the rattling, and spouting, and howling, a dreadful crash was -heard by the inhabitants of Hurlépoer villa; the walls tottered, and -they rushed forth in nakedness and desperation. Nor had they a moment -to spare; for the Roman-cement foundations gave way, the anti-dry-rot -timbers split into a thousand splinters, and the ponderous patent -iron roof descended with one awful and crushing demolition upon the -wrecks below. Poor Pooledoune was again unfortunate. Having delayed a -minute to save an electrical apparatus for making diamonds of flints -and asparagus, in which he had all but succeeded, he was struck by a -projected mass of the broken wood, and had his right arm very badly -fractured. - -With these calamities terminated John Pooledoune's rural experiments. -Hurlépoer was soon again in the market, but the value of land had fallen -tremendously within the last eighteen months; and, though the auctioneer -did his utmost, that which had cost twenty thousand pounds so short a -while ago was sold for eight thousand pounds, and John's whole fortune -reduced to little more than ten. Still there was a competency; and with -the mind of a projector there is always contentment. John bought a small -ready-furnished house, about two miles out of London, and sat down under -its lowly slate roof, and all his troubles, with most philosophic apathy. - -He engaged in lesser speculations with the same ardour with which he -had embarked in extensive undertakings; but the doom of the Gipsies of -Norwood was still upon him, and - - "By making rich, made poor; - By making happy, miserable; - By amending, hurt;" *** - -continued to mark his progress--his progress!--his retrograde progress -in life. - -He had not been settled in his humble abode beyond the first quarter, -making discoveries in science of the most astonishing description, when -a railroad between Billingsgate and Blackwell drove him from his home. -Private interests must always yield to public advantages. The road -went right through Mr. Pooledoune's parlour; but then, when completed, -how easy it would be to bring, by its ready means, white-bait from the -water-side to the city; and how much toil and expense would be saved -to the citizens in having their feed without the trouble of journeying -so far for it in the heat of sultry summer. The greatest affliction -to the individual was not the deterioration which his fortune again -experienced in removing, but a calamity which had almost overwhelmed -even his steadfast soul. We have said he was on the point of realising -the most amazing discoveries in natural science. By a battery of -unlimited galvanic power, continually directed to stones abstracted -from St. Paul's Cathedral, Waterloo-bridge, and the Monument, he had -ascertained that the church was built of the fur of the _pulex_, the -bridge of butterflies' facets, and the Monument of midges' wings. -Indeed he had obtained all these creatures entire and lively, in the -course of his experiments upon decomposing the St. Paul pebbles, the -Waterloo-bridge granite, and the Monumental free-stone; and the only -difficulty which remained for solution was, that above a hundred other -unknown and undescribed insects, probably of the antediluvian world, had -been produced at the same time, and by the same means. It was hard, but -the railroad caused the destruction of this theory; and several of the -retorts being broken, the revivification interrupted, the reanimated -killed, and the whole process served out, Mr. Pooledoune never enjoyed -another opportunity for demonstrating these incomparable results. -Thousands of years may elapse before any other experimentalist succeed -to such an extent; and millions of men and philosophers of intermediate -generations will die meanwhile, ignorant of the prodigious injury done -to science and to John Pooledoune by the railroad between Billingsgate -and Blackwell. - -As we descend, we diminish in the eyes of those to whom we were -distinguished objects whilst dwelling on the same or a higher -elevation:--do we not really become less and less? Pooledoune's pursuits -continued to be similar in character, in opinions, in expectations; but, -ah! how different in worldly esteem! At the Mechanics' Institutes he -was no longer promoted to the front-seats,--at the Society of Arts he -was no more invited to deliver his sentiments,--his little contribution -of insulated facts was unsought by the Statisticals,--and the British -Association was too far off, with its Edinburgh and Dublin festivities, -to meet his conveniency. Yet he devoted himself to the confusion of -knowledge; and, in order to obtain larger interest on his fading -capital, he dabbled in Mexican and Payous, and Greek loans. - -Perfecting a fulminating powder to supersede the use of gunpowder, which -could not explode except by the touch of a particular preparation, an -ounce of it accidentally ignited one day, and blew out his right eye. - -John's hair grew prematurely grey with such crosses, and he invented a -dye to render it beautifully black. Most of those whom he persuaded -to give it a trial were turned most curiously grizzle, green, or -yellow;[105] but, perhaps from using an inordinate quantity, his own -scalp was utterly removed, and his scull rendered as bald and shining as -a polished pewter plate, whence the meat had been removed, but not the -gravy. - -He patronised Mechi's razor-strops and Hubert's roseate powder, in -consequence of which all the lower features of his face became a mass of -purulent offence. - -He took to an infallible dentifrice, which preserved the enamel, and -whitened without injuring the teeth. It was a noble specific, and did -not contradict its advertisement: but all John's teeth fell out; and -though the enamel was preserved, and they were white, his gums were -exposed, empty, and red. He supplied his loss with a set of china -ornaments, which made him grin and nod like a Mandarin, but with which -he could not eat like a Christian, nor sleep like a savage. - -John got poorer and poorer, shabbier and shabbier, sicklier and -sicklier. He had been blown up by gas, burnt down by steam, ruined by -railroads, cursed by every improvement on the whole pack of cards. He -was crippled in his limbs, deficient of an eye, disfigured in face and -person, and, worse than worst of all, his friends knew that he had -but little left, and less to hope for. It was not four years since -John Pooledoune had begun his career with a sound constitution, and -two-and-thirty thousand pounds of ready money,--worth sixty thousand in -any other way! Surely he was the "_Victim of Improvement_." - -Nearly at last, when seen in the streets, John would point to his -waterproof shoes, and hat the better for being soaked twenty-four hours -in a washing-tub; and one noticed that his ugly-looking outer garment -was a proof Macintosh, and his patent spectacles set in cases of -india-rubber. And even his sorry truckle-bed, to which the late squire -of Hurlépoer Hall now nightly sought his obscure and darkling way, was -surmounted by a patent tick (it was double tick, for he had it on credit -from an old philosophical crony,) filled with hot water,--as had been -the brief course of the unfortunate to whom it could afford no rest. - -Whether from the Macintosh preservative cloak, the waterproof shoes, -the water-filled bed, the india-rubber, or the rubs of the weather, we -have not ascertained; but poor John caught a horrid cold, and his cough -was sadly aggravated by a contrivance in his chimney for consuming its -own smoke. This the chimney resolutely refused; and, like all other -quarrels, got so incensed that it would not even carry the smoke up. -Cold, asthma, suffocation and starvation, were then the miserable -companions of the quondam wealthy John Pooledoune. - -In the misery of his heart, the wretched man took to drinking. _That_ -resource, under any circumstances, must very quickly have brought on the -crisis; but true to the last, John resorted to patent British brandy, -and his fate was astonishingly accelerated. - -One dusky evening, in a state of inebriety, the ragged philosopher -walked, or rather staggered out. The cool air breathed upon his fevered -brow; he saw the streets illumed with gas, he witnessed the smoke -ascending from steam-engines, and, overcome by his emotions, when a -Gravesend steamer, having beautifully run down another a hundred yards -below, swept into the Adelaide Wharf he threw himself over London -Bridge, and sank in the disturbed bosom of the silver, insulted, and -persecuted Thames. - -Wearily had his life dragged on for many a day, and yet it was doomed -to another drag. Before he had been two minutes in the water, this -last-mentioned combination of cards, creepers, and hooks, brought him -to the surface, having caught him by his bald pate, and he was carried -ashore in a sculler. The nearest surgeon being called in, happened to -differ from the Humane Society, and hung him up by the heels while he -administered stimulants; but John had imbibed so little of the element, -that even this treatment did not kill him. But his look was deadly, and -he was so debilitated by the medical treatment, that to be restored -was impossible; and the parish authorities of _Saint ---- _, inspecting -his sorry equipments, became alarmed lest he should die where he had -no business, and put them to the expense of a funeral. He was asked -where he lived, in order that he might also die there; and a cart being -procured, under the New Poor Law Act, he was carted towards the dismal -abode he had indicated. His road lay along the new street to the new -bridge; and, about a hundred yards down, in a dark avenue on his left, -_he_ could _not_, though others might, see the once rich and respected -tenement of his father, Roger Pooledoune, hosier and citizen of London. - -The night was frosty and bleak: John's clothes were thin and wet. Had -he been taken to an old woman instead of a medical theorist, and dried -and cherished even by the commonest fire of the parish workhouse, he -would have survived his "accident:" but the law was imperative; he -must be moved to his own parish, and he was moved into the parish of -Eternity,--the parish which holds the rich and the poor, and Heaven only -knows how they are provided for. Before the cart reached the "Union," -John Pooledoune was a corpse. - -On the ensuing day but one, a coroner's inquest sat upon his body, and -one or two of the jurors were men who had known him in his prosperity. -They could hardly identify the meagre and mutilated remains; but, in -tenderness to the officials, who had killed him by doing all for the -best, they returned a verdict of "Found Drowned." - -Not being conchologists, we shall not attempt to describe the shell in -which it was pretended that John Pooledoune was buried. In that shell no -muscle of his ever reposed; it held a few of the paving-stones of the -adjacent lane, which, if John had been alive to submit to his galvanic -battery, would have been demonstrated to be composed of bumble bees' -sacchyrometers. About the same hour that the stones were interred with -the solemn ritual of the church service by the chaplain, the body also -furnished the subject of a lecture by the surgeon of the workhouse -to the pupils in an adjoining hospital. The scull in particular was -singularly formed, at least it was so declared by the phrenologists, -who were allowed to claw it, and who clearly showed that the bumps -(caused by the watermen's drags) were organs of philoprogenitiveness, -amativeness, and destructiveness. - -In due time a perfect skeleton of John Pooledoune was scraped and -prepared, and placed in a glass case in the museum of the hospital. - -And thus was fulfilled the Gipsy's prophecy. He was "by curing, slain;" -he was "never lost on earth, alive or dead," for he was dragged from the -river and preserved in the surgeons' hall; he was "found by numbers" of -sensible coroner's inquest men! he is yet in his glass case a "bodiless -corpse, the victim of improvement, for ever to improve" the students of -anatomy. There was - - "_No hand to close his eyes; - No eye to see his grave; - No grave to give him rest!_" - -He is "dead, resembling Death," yet keeps "his place among the dead -and the living." "His end has not been an ending," and every one who -inspects the hospital collection may know that "he _is_ and _is not_!" - -In a moral magazine such as Bentley's Miscellany it is naturally -expected that a useful and instructive inference should be drawn from -every tale; and assuredly ours needs little to point it: "_May we all be -preserved from the fascinations of Gipsies!_" - -[104] All anachronisms are wilful. Witness the hand of the writer - hereof [graphic symbol: hand]. ] - -[105] Three under the metamorphoses were called by their acquaintance, - the Grey Goose, the Merman, and the Yellow-haired Laddie. - --Note, passim. - - - - - THE LEGEND OF MOUNT PILATE. - -Superstition is to this day a strong characteristic of the inhabitants -of the Alps. A reason for this, is easily found in the various and -imposing phenomena of Nature, to which these simple mountaineers -are daily and nightly witnesses. A storm, which on the plains would -scarcely attract attention, offers at each instant, in these lofty and -diversified regions, some new and appalling spectacle. Each clap of -thunder finds a thousand echoes, and is reverberated almost to infinity. -The lightning's flash plays not only above, but about and underneath the -beholder. Here a roaring torrent dashes past him down the precipitous -rocks, driving all before it in its impetuous course; there a sudden -whirlwind uproots the sturdy monarch of the forest, and bears it aloft, -as though it were a feather on the breeze. The heavy cloud, which one -moment envelopes the poor shepherd in its vapoury folds, in the next is -seen rolling its dense masses over the lower earth, hundreds of fathoms -beneath his feet. Nor are the calmer sublimities by which he is at other -times surrounded less calculated to speak to his imagination than the -loud voice of the bellowing tempest. The plaintive murmuring of the -vernal breeze amid the lofty pines; the deep silence of the summer's -burning noon; the fantastic changes of the fleecy cloud, whose form -is varied by every pinnacle of the mountain; the hollow and mournful -moaning of the autumnal gusts as they scatter far and wide the falling -leaves; the bright beam of the resplendent moon, across which each -jutting crag throws some grotesque shadow; and above all, the mist, -which, rising from the plains a mere mass of dull and dank vapour, -here first appears to receive life, and takes innumerable shapes and -forms, incredible to those who have never witnessed its airy evolutions! -These are the ever-varying phantasmata of nature that pass in scenic -succession before the eyes of the Alpine peasant, and add fresh fuel to -the fire of his superstitious inclinations. - -It was in scenes of this inspiring character that Ossian saw his shadowy -armies, his warrior ghosts, his visionary maids, and heard the wild -music of their aërial harps. And although from the imperfectness of -our nature, we are all liable to have "our eyes made the fools of the -other senses," yet is it in these cloud-capped regions alone that the -illusions are always of a dignified order, and that poetry spreads her -veil of enchantment over the dull realities of life. - -Such was the nature of my reflections after I had retired to rest upon -the night before my intended pilgrimage to Mount Pilate; and, having -made them, I slept soundly until the bright beams of a July sun darting -in at my latticed window gave me notice of the morning's growth. I arose -from my bed of leaves and rushes, and, strolling forth into the open -air, tasted the delicious sweetness of the hour. Never do I remember a -more enchanting prospect than here met my view. It seemed as if Nature -had proclaimed a universal holiday. She was abroad in her gala dress; -while Spring and Summer, her vernal and blooming handmaids,--the former -lingering as though loth to quit her mistress, the latter rushing to -anticipate her call,--appeared on either side of her, and strewed her -rosy path with freshness and fragrance. The dews of night, glistening -in the first rays of the slanting sun, spangled the green carpet of the -earth; and the tall pines, ever the first to greet the morning breeze, -gracefully bowed their dark heads to welcome day's return. Far across -the intervening lake, the flocks and herds were seen winding slowly up -the mountain's side in search of their wholesome pasture; while the -simple harmony of their bells, mingling with the wild song or whistle -of their urchin conductors, came upon my ear over the still waters in -distant snatches, and formed, with the loud melody of the feathered -minstrels close around me, a rural concert in happiest unison with the -scene. A tap on the shoulder from my venerable conductor aroused me from -my reverie. Our preparations were soon made; and with a small wallet -destined to contain the necessary provision for such a journey, and -each a long staff, pointed at one end and hooked at the other, such as -is required for the ascent and descent of the precipitous paths we were -to tread, we commenced our march. We proceeded first to Brunnen, where -we took water upon the fairest of Switzer's lakes, and before sunset -arrived at Lucerne, the town from which it takes its name. The next -morning we were again afoot betimes, and, as we jogged along, I obtained -the result of my companion's long gleanings in this fruitful land of -romance and superstition. - -"First," said he, "with regard to the name[106] of this celebrated -mountain. Some have thought that it obtained the designation of Mount -Pilate from a tradition of its having been formerly peopled by a band -of Roman deserters, who sought refuge among its almost inaccessible -rocks,--the Latin word _pila_ having been often used to signify a -mountain-pass; others, that it is a corruption from _pileus_, a -hat, because its bald summit is often covered by a complete cap of -clouds,--and hence the old proverb so often quoted in this country, - - "'Quand Pilate a mis son chapeau, - Le temps sera serein et beau.' - -But the explanation drawing most largely upon the liberal credulity of -the simple inhabitants of the Underwald, and therefore sure to be the -best received, is the following amusing fable: - -"Pontius Pilate having been condemned to death for his crimes, to avert -the shame of a public execution, committed suicide. His body being -found, was by the enraged multitude fastened to an immense weight of -stones, and thrown into the Tyber. But the spirit of that noble river, -outraged by her waters being made the deposit of so foul a carcase, -from that hour rose in foam and torrent to resent the injury; and, -interesting great Nature in her behalf, the most frightful storms and -whirlwinds, with hail, thunder, and lightning, ravaged the whole country -from the Mediterranean shores to the opposite Adriatic; nor did the -elemental uproar cease until the terrified inhabitants, by dint of -the greatest exertions, dragged the body up again, and in all haste -caused it to be conveyed as far as Vienne in Dauphiny, and there anew -committed to the deep.[107] But what was the consequence? The Rhone -would no more suffer such an insult than had the Tyber; and its blue -waters, swelling with the indignity offered them, overflowed their -natural banks, and rushed with headlong rapidity, as if to fly the spot -of pollution. No bark could live an instant on the tremendous waves, -which now so frightfully disguised this hitherto calmly majestic stream; -and the Dauphinois, like the Romans, had no remedy for the crying -evil, but, as they had done, to rid themselves and their river of such -an ill-omened guest. This was at length accomplished: but the noble -Rhone, although cleansed of his 'filthy bargain,' could not so easily -forget the deep affront; and yearly, at that very season, he has ever -since marked his undying resentment by a repetition of the same angry -demonstrations. Meantime the offending cause of all this tribulation -was secretly transported to Lausanne, and there condemned to a third -watery grave. Why a preference so little flattering was given to this -beautiful spot, is not known; but certain it is that its inhabitants, -being made acquainted with the new arrival, presaged but little good -to their '_placid Leman_' from so confirmed a disturber of the silent -waters, and before his presence could have time to create its usual -uproar, and thus prevent or impede such a measure, the body was once -more brought to land; and, a council being held, it was then determined -that a small and isolated lake,[108] situated near the summit of the -Frakmont, should be the chosen place of interment. Being situated at a -good forty leagues from their city, they would at least have little to -dread from his future operations; and the bleak and barren nature of the -soil surrounding his new residence would, as they hoped, neutralize, if -not entirely destroy, his baneful influence. - -"There, then, he was finally deposited; but soon this desolate region, -as though doubly cursed by his coming, felt the dire effects of his -sojourn. The lake itself turned black; and its surrounding shores, -infected by the noxious vapours which it now emitted, could no longer -yield a wholesome herbage, but became one huge and marshy swamp, -where the rankest weeds alone could thrive. The surface of the water -was covered with the blanched bodies of its finny inhabitants; the -water-fowl that used to haunt its banks no sooner came within its -unhealthful precincts than they shared the universal doom, and fell dead -upon the earth; the venomous snake lay stiffening in the sun, conquered -by a superior poison; and the slimy toad expired in a vain attempt to -crawl from an atmosphere too fetid even for his loathsome nature.[109] - -"The peasants, from their hamlets in the neighbouring plains, had marked -the striking change in the appearance of the mountain's top, which, -instead of standing out clear against the blue sky, was almost always -enveloped in a shroudy mist, or, if for a short period it could rid -itself of that encumbrance, still appeared like a heavy blot upon the -surface of the earth, reflecting no single ray of that bright sun which -beamed on all around it. Convinced that such a sudden change could -proceed but from some supernatural cause, a thousand speculations were -hazarded as to what was actually going on at the summit itself; and at -length one among them, more hardy than the rest, set out, determined to -explore the mystery. His presumption, however, was awfully punished; -for although, by dint of an extraordinary courage, he returned to his -anxious friends, yet the sights he had seen, the fright he had endured, -and the bodily exertions he had used to quicken his descent, were too -much for him. It was permitted only that he should relate to the throng -crowding around him the pestilent appearances of the once beautiful -little lake, and then ague-fits, convulsions, and a raging fever ended -the poor wretch's mortal struggles. - -"Whether the circumstances of this intrusive visit added fresh fuel -to the demon's rage, or whether the moment was now come when, having -no longer within his reach any living object on which to vent his -diabolical vengeance, he became impatient of his watery incarceration, -certain it is that, from the very day of the luckless villager's return, -new sounds and sights of horror and desolation startled the whole -country around. A hollow rumbling noise, as of distant thunder or a -smothered volcano, issued, with scarcely a minute's intermission, during -the hours of light, from the mountain's summit; while the deep silence -of midnight was suddenly broken by shrieks and yells so hideous and -piercing, that, compared with them, the war-whoop of a whole nation of -Whyndots or Cherokees would have seemed soft music. Thus were announced -to the affrighted listeners the terrific struggles then making by the -foul spirit to burst his liquid bonds. At length, one luckless morn, he -succeeded in his attempt to breathe again the free air; and his first -feat was to celebrate the unholy triumph by a storm that hid the sun's -face from the world during eight and forty hours, being the exact number -of days of his forced sojourn in the lake. - -"It seemed, from his remaining afterwards on this bleak and desolate -station, either that his infernal art could not compass his entire -removal from the mountain, or that he preferred it to the low grounds -on account of the advantage which its elevated situation gave him to -direct the tempests, and with greater certainty to launch the fires of -destruction upon those particular parts of the country from which he was -at the moment pleased to select his victims. Whichever of these was the -cause of his stay, he, at any rate, by force, or by choice, did remain -there for some hundreds of years; during the whole of which period -he continued more or less, and by every means within his fell power, -to vent his undying rage upon the hapless peasantry and their little -possessions. In the midst of the most terrific of the storms with which -it was his custom to visit the valleys below, the phantom himself would -sometimes be for a moment visible to one or other of the terror-struck -shepherds, and then some dreadful mortality among his flocks and herds -was sure to be the lot of the luckless wight by whom the apparition had -been seen. - -"Once, during a dreadful hurricane that tore up the largest trees by -the roots, and scattered ruin and dismay abroad, the grisly fiend -was plainly seen perched upon the very highest pinnacle of his rocky -dominion, in desperate conflict with a second unearthly being, who, -by the violent gesticulations displayed on both sides, could be no -other than his once mortal enemy, the renowned King Herod. In short, -nothing could exceed either in variety or extent, the mischief caused -to the pastoral inhabitants of the two cantons of Lucerne and Underwald -by this '_Lord of the Black Mountain_,' the name by which their -demoniac tormentor was universally known. It gave them, therefore, -joy beyond expression when their good genius at last sent them some -hope of deliverance from the evil power, in the person of a pious and -learned doctor, who, being informed of the devastation, agreed to try -conclusions with the imp of Satan. This champion in the good cause -was a celebrated brother of the Rosy Cross, who had already taken the -highest degrees in the university of Salamanca, and who, having dived -deeper than his fellow students into the mysteries of the far-famed -Bactrian sage, possessed a reputation that placed him almost on a level -with Zoroaster himself. Like a good alchymist, gold was the ultimate -object of his philosophical researches; and for a sufficient sum, (to -obtain which many a poor peasant was deprived of his last kreutzer,) he -undertook to rid the country of what had been so long a scourge to it. - -"He set out accordingly for the conflict; but alone and unarmed, -having refused all aid or guidance but such as his sacred mission and -his hidden knowledge gave him. The combat was long and obstinate, but -never for a moment doubtful. Arrived at the mountain's summit, the -Rosicrucian took up his station on a commanding point of the rock, -and called upon the phantom to appear before him. This simple summons -remaining unnoticed, he proceeded to a display of his cabalistic powers, -and finally brought the stubborn offender into his presence; but not -until the force of his mystic conjurations had torn the huge fragment -on which he stood from its solid base, and left it balancing on a mere -point, where, indeed, it may to this day be seen, a trembling memento of -that awful hour. - -"Unable to make head against the superior prowess of his opponent, -the malignant spirit sought safety in flight but was pursued by the -victorious astrologer, who, coming up with him again on the part of the -mountain now called the Hill of Widerfield, renewed the contest with -fresh vigour; and so furious were the attack and defence on this spot, -and so violent the arts of exorcism to which the reverend champion had -recourse, that the grass beneath their feet was burnt up as by the fire -of heaven, and has never since recovered from the unnatural blight. -Success at length crowned the efforts of the holy father, who, however, -was forced to consent to a sort of honourable capitulation on the part -of the vanquished. It was therefore finally agreed between them, that -the spectre should return to his watery sepulchre, there to remain -inactive during three hundred and sixty-four days in every year. On Good -Friday alone he was to be permitted to walk abroad, clothed in those -magisterial robes which he was wont to wear when living; even then, -however, pledging himself not to overstep the limits of the mountain's -summit, and never, unless provoked by previous violence or insult, to do -harm to aught that had existence. - -"This settled, he mounted a coal-black charger, which, as a ratification -of their solemn treaty, was presented to him by his conqueror, and which -on starting struck his hoof into the neighbouring rock, and left to -all eternity its huge print there. Then, with a noise that resembled -the hissing of an army of serpents, he plunged into the lake and -disappeared; nor has he ever since been known to violate the engagements -then incurred by showing himself to the world, save on the anniversary -of the day above mentioned, or when irritated beyond his bearing by the -language of abuse or some overt act of aggression, such as the throwing -of stones or other substances into his prison-lake. The treaty thus -broken, he has never failed to exercise the power still left him, and -to evince his anger by some terrific storm or inundation, which would -shortly after, and generally in the very midst of the brightest and -clearest weather, suddenly proclaim his sense of the insult offered him. - -"In consequence of these infractions, by the ignorant or the -disobedient, of a treaty solemnly entered into, a general order -was issued by the competent authorities, interdicting all persons -whatsoever, under severe pains and punishments, from making the ascent -of this mountain without a special permission to that effect, from the -chief magistrate of the district, who at the same time was to appoint -proper and trustworthy guides, they being answerable with their lives -for the attention of the whole party to certain prescribed rules.[110] -The shepherds, too, by whom the lower part of the Pilate was peopled, -were obliged every year to appear before a certain tribunal, and to -take an oath that they would make no attempt to visit these prohibited -regions.[111] - -"Things remained nearly in this state until the event of the -Reformation; after which both Catholic and Protestant united to remove -from the minds of the vulgar, prejudices which ages of ignorant habits -had tended to fix on them. Among the rest, in the year 1585, one -Muller, the curé of Lucerne, having appointed a day for that purpose, -and invited all who were willing so to do to accompany him, set out on -an expedition to the summit of Mount Pilate, and was followed thither -by some hundreds of his parishioners. Arrived at the so much dreaded -lake itself, he proceeded to throw into it, stones, blocks of wood, and -missiles of various descriptions, accompanying the action with words -the most likely to provoke the wrath of the redoubted fiend; but, to -the surprise of the assembled multitude, who had beheld with affright -the audacious ceremony, all remained silent,--neither sound nor sight -replied to the daring invocation, and the sky was not in consequence -overcast by a single cloud. In order to follow up the partial light -which he had thus let in upon the darkness of ages, the worthy curé soon -afterwards obtained an order from the government of Lucerne, authorizing -the draining of the lake itself,--a work which was actually begun in the -year 1594, but to which a want of the necessary funds, and other minor -causes, put a stop before it could be entirely accomplished." - -I have thus repeated at some length the fabulous histories which I -that day learned during our long and laborious ascent to the summit of -the mountain in question; and I will now only add, that the various -scenes therein alluded to, as having been the theatre of the phantom's -exploits, were pointed out to me by my companion; nor could I avoid -perceiving, by the fondness with which he dwelt rather upon the -superstition itself, than such refutation as followed it, that he was -himself in no slight degree tinged with the popular belief. - -[106] Its German name is Frakmont, from the Latin words "Mons fractus," - an appellation naturally bestowed upon its broken and - irregular summit. - -[107] Eusebius, in his "_Histoire Ecclesiastique_," (liv. ii. chap. 7,) -relates that, about forty years after the birth of Christ, and under the -reign of Caligula, Pontius Pilate was recalled from the government of -Judea to Rome, and, fearing the consequences with which his conduct was -threatened, he committed suicide; but he does not say where this fact -occurred. Naucler tells us that Pilate, having been banished to Lyons -by the emperor, there died by his own sword; and other authors, among -whom is Otho of Frisinguen, assert that, being exiled by Caligula, he -threw himself into the Rhone at Vienne in Dauphiny, and was drowned. -He adds, that, according to the statement of the inhabitants of that -neighbourhood, the river has ever since that period, at certain -intervals, been extremely difficult and dangerous to navigate.--(Vide -_Pa Chronique_, liv. iii. chap. 13. ) - -[108] This mountain lake is situated in the centre of a small forest of -dark and time-worn pines, and is surrounded by bogs and marshes. In form -it is nearly elliptical, being one hundred and fifty-four feet long, and -seventy-eight broad, and it is in no part more than four feet deep. In -the year 1560 it was measured by Cisat, and, according to his account -of its dimensions, was at that time just one-third less than it is know -known to be now; but whether his admeasurement was defective, or whether -the body of water has actually increased since that period, may be -matter of doubt. - -[109] Treatise on Exorcisms, entitled "Malleus Maleficarum," (a Hammer -for Sorcerers,) by Felix Hemmerlein, Provost of Soleure; printed at -Frankfort, in 1582. - -[110] Vadian's Commentaries, published at Vienna in 1518. - -[111] Conservateur Suisse, vol. iv. - - - - - GLORVINA, THE MAID OF MEATH. - BY JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES. - -Ireland has had her heroines. Glorvina, the daughter of Malachi, king -of Meath, was the joy and pride of her father, yet at the same time his -anxious, never-resting care; for the Dane was in the land. The rovers -were led by Turgesius, a voluptuous prince, though advanced in years. -Turgesius approached the gate of Malachi with the smile of peace upon -his countenance, but with the thoughts of rapine in his heart. He was -hospitably received; the banquet was spread for him; and when he was -weary with feasting and hilarity, he was conducted to the richest, -softest couch. - -He had not yet seen Glorvina, but he had heard of her surpassing beauty; -and one day he requested of the king that his daughter should sit at the -feast. A shade came over the brow of Malachi; but he bowed his head, and -it was gone. With a timid, yet stately step, the virgin entered the -hall. Thick and clustering, and reaching far below her tapering waist, -hung her auburn hair; her eyes were cast down; her fair skin mantled and -faded, as her colour came and went; and she spake not as she sank in -modest, graceful obeisance, to the salutation of Turgesius. - -The Dane had no appetite for the banquet that day. He seemed to be -conscious of nothing but the presence of Glorvina. Alarm and ire were -painted in the countenance of the king, but Turgesius noted it not. He -never removed his eyes from the royal maid; they wandered incessantly -over her features and her form, and followed the movements of her -white, roundly-moulded arms, as she accepted or returned the cup or the -viands which were proffered for her use. Haughty for the first time -was the fair brow of Glorvina: the bold stare of man was a stranger to -her. Again and again she offered to retire, but was withheld by the -dissuasions of Turgesius, seconded by the admonishing glances of her -father. At last, however, in spite of all opposition, she withdrew. - -The Dane sat abstracted with a clouded brow; deep sighs came thick and -strugglingly from his breast. Malachi tried to rouse his guest, and -succeeded at last, with the aid of the cup. Turgesius waxed wildly -joyous; he spoke of love, and of the idol before which the passion bows; -and he asked for the strain that was in unison with the tone of his -soul; the song of desire was awakened at his call; and as it flowed, -swelling and sinking with the mood of the fitful theme, the rover's -cheek flushed more and more, and his eyes more wildly flamed. - -Turgesius did not sleep at the castle that night. He was summoned on a -sudden to a distance: oppression had produced reaction. In the place of -the slave, the man had started up; and the air all at once was thick -with weapons, where for months the glare of brass or of steel had not -been seen, except in the hand of the foreigner. Outposts had been driven -in; large bands were retracing steps which they had no right to take; -the sway of the freebooter was tottering. His presence saved it, and the -native again bowed sullenly to resume the yoke. - -After the lapse of a few weeks, Turgesius once more drew near the -gate of Malachi. Loudly the blast of his herald demanded the customed -admission, and with impatience the Dane awaited the reply to his -summons. It came; but there was wailing in the voice of welcome, and -the visitor felt that he grew cold. The mourner received him in the -hall:--Glorvina was no more! Turgesius turned his face away from -the house of death, and departed for his own stronghold, where with -alternate sports and revels he endeavoured to assuage disappointment and -obliterate recollection. - -Dusk fell. Silent and gloomy was the aisle of the royal chapel. Before -a monument, newly erected, stood a lonely figure gazing upon the name -of Glorvina, which was carved upon the stone. The figure was that of a -youth, tall, and of matchless symmetry. His arms were folded, his head -drooped, he uttered no sound; his soul was with the inmate of the narrow -house. He heard not the step of the bard who was approaching, and who -presently stood by his side unnoted by him. - -Long did the reverend man gaze upon the youth without attempting to -accost him. More and more he wondered who it could be whom sorrow so -enchained in abstraction. At length the lips of the figure moved, and a -sigh, deep-drawn, ushered forth the name of Glorvina. No stranger to the -bard was the voice that fell upon his ear. "Niall!" he exclaimed. The -youth started and turned; it _was_ Niall. He threw himself upon the neck -of the bard. The flood of the eyes began to flow: he sobbed forth aloud -and incontinently the name of Glorvina! - -"Niall," said the bard, as soon as the paroxysm of grief had a little -subsided,--"Niall, you are changed in form, your stature has shot up, -your shoulders have spread, and your chest has rounded. Your features, -too, I can see by this spare light, have received from manhood a stamp -which they did not bear before; but your heart, my son, is the same. -Niall in his affections has come back what he went. The Saxon has not -changed him, nor the Saxon's daughter; her golden hair has waved before -his eyes, her skin of pearl has shone upon them, the silver harp of her -voice has streamed upon his ear; but his heart hath been still with -Glorvina!" - -"To what end?" passionately burst forth the youth. "Glorvina is in the -tomb!" The tears gushed again; the bard was silent. - -"Where is your prophetic Psalter?" resumed Niall; "where is it? Who will -give credence to it now? Did you not say that Glorvina was the fair -maid of Meath by whom it foretold that the land was to be rescued from -the Dane; and that I was that son of my house who should be joined with -her in perilous, yet happy wedlock? This did you not say and repeat a -thousand times?--Then why do I look upon that tomb?" - -"Niall," said the bard, "have faith, though you look upon the tomb of -Glorvina!" The youth shook his head.--"Have you yet seen the king?" -inquired the bard. Niall replied in the negative. "Come, then, young -man, and look upon a father's grief!" - -The bard led the way towards the closet of the king. The light of the -taper streamed from the half-open door: and as Niall, by the side of -the bard, stood in the comparative darkness of the ante-chamber, he -stared upon the face of Malachi, bright with a smile at a false move at -chess which a person with whom the king was playing had just that moment -made. Niall could scarce believe his vision.--"Where is the grief of the -father?" whispered he to the bard. - -"Note on!" was the old man's reply. - -"He laughs!" exclaimed Niall, almost loud enough to be heard by those -within.--"Yes," said the bard; "he who wins may laugh. He has got the -game." - -"And where is his child?" ejaculated Niall with a groan so audible that -Malachi heard it and started; but the bard hurried the youth from the -room. - -Niall and the bard sat alone in the apartment of the latter. Sparingly -the youth partook of the repast, which was presently removed. He sat -silent, leaning his head upon his hand. At length he lifted his eyes to -the face of the bard; it was smiling like the king's, as he played the -game of chess. The young man stared; the bard smiled on. - -"A strain!" cried the reverend man, and took his harp and tuned it, -and tried the chords till every string had its proper tone. "Now!" he -exclaimed, ready to begin. The young man watched the waking of the lay, -which he expected would be in unison with the mood of his soul: but, -lo! note rapidly followed note in mirthful chase, still quickening to -the close; and the countenance of Niall, overcast before with grief, now -lowered with anger. - -"I list not strain like that!" he exclaimed, starting from his seat. - -"You list no other, boy, from me," rejoined the old man; "it is your -welcome home."--"My home," ejaculated Niall, "is the tomb where Glorvina -sleeps the sleep of death!" - -"The Psalter," said the old man solemnly, "is the promise of Destiny, -and is sure to be fulfilled." - -"Why, then," asked the youth sternly,--"why, then, is Glorvina no longer -among the living?--Why in the place of her glowing cheek do I meet the -tomb?--the silence of death, instead of her voice?" - -The bard made no reply, but leaned over his harp again, and spanned its -golden strings. He sang of the chase. The game was a beauteous hind; -eager was the hunter, but too swift was her light foot for his wish. -She distanced him like the wind, which at one moment brushes the cheek, -and the next will be leagues away; and now she was safe, pressing the -mossy sward in the region of the mountain and the lake, where the waters -mingle and spread one silvery sheet for the fair tall heavens to look -into. - -Niall sat amazed!--conjecture and doubt seemed to divide his soul. He -sprang towards the old man, and, throwing himself at his feet, snatched -the hand that still lay upon the strings and caught it to his bosom. -Yet he spake not, save by his eyes; in the intense expression of which, -inquiry, and entreaty, and deprecation were mingled. - -The old man rose and stood silent for a time, looking down benevolently -upon Niall, who seemed scarcely to breathe, watching the lips that he -felt were about to move. - -"Niall," at length said the bard,--"Niall, the strength of the day -is the rest of night. Fair upon the eye of the sleeper, awakening -him, breaks the light of morning. Then he springs from his couch, and -stretches his limbs, and braces them, eager for action; and he asks -who will go with him to the field of the feat; or haply betakes him to -the road to try his strength alone; and following it through hill and -valley, moor and mead, suddenly shows his triumph-shining face to the -far friend that looked not for him!" - -The bard ceased. Both he and the youth remained motionless for several -seconds, intently regarding one another. At last Niall sprang upon -his feet, and threw himself upon the neck of the old man, whose arms -simultaneously closed around the boy. - -"You will sleep to-night, my son," said the bard, withdrawing himself -at length from the embrace of Niall. "The dawn shall not come to thy -casement before thou shalt hear my summons at thy door. Good-night!" -They parted. - - * * * * * - -By the side of a bright river strayed hand in hand two young females, -seemingly rustics. Rain had fallen. The thousand torrents of the -mountains were in play; and the general waters, swoln beyond the -capacity of their customed channel, ran hurried and ruffled. - -"Who would think," remarked the younger of the two,--"who would think -that this was the river we saw yesterday?" - -"'Tis changed indeed," said her companion; "but the sky that was -lowering yesterday, you see, is bright and serene to-day. Did you hear -the storm in the night?" - -"No: I would I had. It would have saved me from a dream darker than any -storm." - -"A dream!--Tell it me. I am a reader of dreams." - -"You know," began the younger,--"you know I was brought up with the only -son of a distant branch of my father's house. I know not how it was, -but, from my earliest recollection, my foster-mother, and others as -well as she, set me down for his wife; and, strangely enough, I fancied -myself so. Yet could it be nothing more than a sister's love that I bore -him. Much he used to make of me. His pastime--even his studies--were -regulated by my will. Being older than I, he let me play the fool to -the very height of my caprice, which cost me many a chiding,--but not -from him, though he had to bear the greater portion of the consequences. -You know by his father's will he was enjoined to travel the last four -years preceding his majority. He set out the very day that I completed -my fourteenth year. I wish it had been before. I should have felt the -separation less, for indeed it cost me real agony. For months after, -they would catch me weeping: they did not know the cause; but 'twas for -him! Still I only loved him as a brother--but a dear one,--Oh, Myra! I -cannot tell you how dear!--and absence has not abated my feelings, as -you may more than guess by my dream last night." - -"Look!" interrupted the other; "see you not some one through the -interval of the trees descending yonder road that winds round the foot -of the nearest mountain?" - -"No," replied the former, after she had looked in the direction a moment -or two. "But attend to my dream. I thought I was married indeed, and -that he was my husband; and that we were sitting at the bridal feast, -placed on each side of my father; and there were the viands, and the -wine, and the company, and everything as plain as you are that are -standing there before me; when, all at once----" - -"I see him again!" a second time interrupted the friend. "Look! don't -you catch the figure?"--"No." - -"Then you'll not catch it at all now, for he has dived into the wood -through which the road runs." - -"Was it a single person?"--"Yes." - -"Then we have nothing to care for; so don't interrupt me in my dream -again." - -"Go on with it," said the other. - -"Well; we were sitting, as I said, at the bridal feast, when, turning -to speak to my father, the fiery eyes of one I hope never to see again -were glaring on me, and my father was gone; and fierce men, with -gleaming weapons waving above their heads, surrounded him to whom I had -just pledged my troth, and bore him, in spite of his struggles and my -screams, away: leaving me to the mercy of the spoiler, who straight, -methought, started up with the intent of dragging me to the couch which -had been prepared for another!" - -"Do you mark," interrupted the friend, "as you increase in loudness, -the echoes waken? I heard the last word repeated as distinctly as you -yourself uttered it. But go on. Yet beware these echoes; they may be -tell-tales. What followed?" - -"Oh, what harrows my soul even now! Thither, where I told you, did he -try to force me, struggling with all my might to resist him. I called on -my father,--I called on my bridegroom,--I called on every one I could -think of; but no one came to me, and fast we approached the door, on -the threshold of which to have died, I thought in my dream, would be -bliss to the horror of crossing it, and there at last we stood: but it -was shut. Yet soon it moved; and who think you it was that opened it? -Niall!--Niall himself! and no resistance did he offer to him that forced -me onward,--none, though I called to him by his name, shrieking it -louder than I am speaking now, 'Niall!--Niall!' He spoke not,--he moved -not; and I was within a foot of the very couch, when I awoke, my face -bathed in the dew of terror. 'Niall!--Niall!' did I cry, did I shriek; -and Niall was there, and I shrieked in vain--'Niall!--Niall!'----" - -"Here!" cried Niall himself, springing from a copse, out of which led -a path that made a short cut across an angle of the road, and throwing -himself breathless at the feet of Glorvina. - -The astonished maid stood motionless, gazing on the young man, who -remained kneeling, until her companion, taking her hand, and calling her -by her name, aroused her from the trance of astonishment. - -"Come," said Myra, "let us return;" and, motioning to the young man to -follow them, she led her passive companion back to the lonely retreat -whither Malachi had transported his fair child. - -Glorvina did not perfectly recover her self-possession till she arrived -at the door. Then she stopped, and turning, bent her bright gaze full -upon the wondering Niall, who moved not another step. - -"Niall--if you are Niall--" said the maid. She paused, and a sigh -passed, in spite of them, the lips that would have kept it in: "If you -are the Niall," she resumed, "to whom I said farewell four years ago, -the day and the hour are not unwelcome that bring back, in health, and -strength, and happiness, the playmate of our childhood to the land of -his fathers; and we bless God that he has suffered them to shine. But -why comes Niall hither? Who taught him to doubt the testimony of the -tomb? Who directed his steps to the solitudes of the mountains, the -woods, and the lakes? Who cried, "God speed!" when his heel left the -home of my father behind it? Was it the master of that home?--was it -Malachi, my father?" - -A thought that had not occurred to him before, seemed suddenly to cross -the mind of Niall. His lips that would have spoken remained motionless, -his cheek coloured, his eye fell to the feet of Glorvina; he stood -confounded and abashed. - -"'Tis well!" cried the stately maid. "The tongue of Niall is yet -unacquainted with falsehood, though his feet may be no strangers to -the steps of rashness. The repast is spread; enter and partake!" and -she paused for a second or two. Niall slowly lifted his eyes till they -met those of Glorvina; apprehension and supplication mingled in the -gaze of the youth. At length, with a tone that spoke at once compassion -and resolve, the word "Depart!" found utterance; and the maid and her -companion, stepping aside, left the entrance of their lonely habitation -free, as Niall mechanically passed in. - - (_To be concluded in our next._) - - - - - THE ROYAL ROSE OF ENGLAND. - AN IRISH BALLAD, - ON THE BIRTH-DAY OF THE PRINCESS VICTORIA, - - MAY 24, 1837. - - BY J. A. WADE. - - Tune--"_Young Love lived once._" - - I. - Within a fine ould ancient pile - (Where long may splendour - And luck attend her!) - The Royal Hope of Britain's isle - Has shed her eighteenth summer's smile! - No winter mornin' - Was at her bornin', - But with the spring she did come forth, - A flow'r of Beauty, without guile, - Perfumin' sweet the neighb'rin' earth! - - II. - We've seen the blossom 'pon the stem - From early childhood-- - Both in the wild-wood - And in the halls where many a gem - Did sparkle from the diadem, - But always bloomin', - Without presumin' - On the rich cradle of her birth; - Her eyes beam'd softly--while from them - All _others_ gather'd love and mirth! - - III. - Dear offspring of a royal race, - In this dominion - (It's my opinion) - There's not a soul that sees your face, - But prays for it sweet Heaven's grace. - May every birth-day - Be found a mirth-day,-- - No clouds or tears e'er frown or weep, - But Pleasure's smile where'er you pace - Bless you for ever 'wake or 'sleep! - - [Illustration: Jack outwitting Davy Jones] - - - - - NIGHTS AT SEA: - _Or, Sketches of Naval Life during the War._ - BY THE OLD SAILOR. - - No. III. - - WITH AN ILLUSTRATION BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. - - THE CHASE.--THE FORECASTLE YARN. - - "Not a cloud is before her - To dim her pure light; - Not a shadow comes o'er her, - Her beauty to blight: - But she glows in soft lustre-- - One star by her side-- - From her throne in the azure, - Earth's beautiful bride." - - -A cheerless and disheartening spectacle is a dismasted ship, with all -her mass of wreck still clinging to the hull, that it once bore proudly -over the billows! 'Tis like the unfortunate abandoned by his friends, -who, however, continue to hang around him, though more to impede his way -than to retrieve his fortunes! And there lay the Spankaway, with her -long line of taper spars reversed, their heads in the water, and their -heels uppermost; and, as if in mockery of the mishap, the beautiful -bright moon showed their diminished shadows on the again smooth surface -of the ocean. The squall had passed far away to leeward, and was -dwindling to a mere speck of silvery vapour, whilst all besides was -still, and calm, and passionless. - -Now it was no pleasant sight to Lord Eustace Dash and his officers to -witness the dismantling of the craft they loved; and, as the chief, it -may be naturally supposed that the chagrin of his lordship far exceeded -that of his subs: but there was one amongst them almost affected to -tears, and that was old Will Parallel, the master. - -"Smack smooth to the lower caps, by ----!" said his lordship, as he -surveyed the havoc made in his dashing frigate; "not a rope-yarn above -the lower mast-heads, and--" - -"Not a bit of canvass abroad big enough to make a clout for a babby," -chimed in the old master; "spanker, jib, topsels all gone to the devil, -as 'll have no more manner o' use for 'em than a serjeant of jollies has -for a hand-bible." - -"Where's Mr. ----?" shouted his lordship, and the master's mate who had -had charge of the deck stood before him. "How came all this, sir?" - -"It was a white squall, my lord," returned the young man addressed; "not -a soul saw it till it caught the ship, and the topmasts went over the -side immediately." - -"I shall inquire into the fact presently, sir," rejoined his lordship, -excessively vexed and mortified. "Turn the hands up--clear the wreck!" - -"Hands up--clear the wreck!" shouted the first lieutenant. - -"Hands up--clear the wreck!" repeated the master's mate. - -"Boatswain's mate, pipe 'Clear the wreck!'" reiterated the midshipmen. -"Twhit! twhit!" went the call; and, "Clear wreck, a-hoy!" vociferated -Jack Sheavehole, in a voice resembling the roar of the bellows of an -anchor-forge. The summons, however, was hardly necessary, as every soul -had _tumbled_ up at the moment the frigate righted; and all turned to -with a hearty goodwill to repair damages, every officer and man using -his best exertions. - -"The squall spoilt our fun, master," said the first lieutenant to -old Parallel, as the latter was superintending the preparations for -unrigging the old, and rigging the new spare topmasts. - -"Ay! ay! 'twas an onfortunate _blow_ to the harmony of the evening; but -it will do for an incident for Nugent," responded the veteran. "Where's -his fine lady curtcheying to herself in a mirror now? If he had stuck -to plain matter-of-fact, mayhap the spars would have behaved better; -though, arter all, it's a marcy they were so carroty, or mayhap her -ladyship might have curtcheyed so low as to have gone to the bottom." - -That night was a night of arduous but light-hearted toil; no man shrunk -from his task; and, when they piped to breakfast next morning, the -frigate was once more all ataunt'o, with royals and studding-sails set, -in chase of a large ship of warlike appearance that was seen in the -north-west, running away large, apparently bound in for Toulon. - -"Foretopsel-yard, there!" shouted Lord Eustace, from the quarter-deck. -"What do you make of her, Mr. Nugent?" - -"She's nearly end on, my lord," responded the young lieutenant, as, -steadying himself by the topsail-tie, he directed his glass towards the -stranger; and then, in a few minutes, added, "She spreads a broad cloth, -my lord; and, from the cut of her canvass, I should most certainly -say----" and he paused to take another look. - -"I'd take my daffy on it, Mr. Nugent," said the look-out man, "her -topsels are more hollowed out than ourn; her royals never came out of a -British dock-yard; and I'd bet my six months' whack again a scupper-nail -that she's a Frenchman, and a large frigate too." - -"Well, what is she, Nugent?" shouted the noble captain. "Can you see -down to her courses!" - -"Yes, my lord," responded the lieutenant; "we shall, I hope, have her -hull in sight before long, as I have no hesitation in saying--that is, -my lord, I think she's an enemy frigate." - -This annunciation was heard fore and aft; for, during the time of his -lordship hailing, every whisper was hushed, and scarcely even a limb -moved, lest the listener should lose the replies. Expectations had been -raised that the vessel in sight might be a French transport, from the -Egyptian coast, or perhaps a merchantman; but the chance of an enemy's -frigate was indeed joyous news. Breakfast was hastily despatched; the -mess-kits were speedily stowed away, and the boatswain's shrill call -echoed amongst the canvass as he piped "Make sail, ahoy!" In an instant -every man was at his station; every yard of cloth that could catch -a breath of wind was packed upon the Spankaway, who seemed to glide -along through the water just as easy as when she first started from the -buttered slips. Indeed, Jack Sheavehole declared that "she wur all the -better for the spree she'd had the night afore." - -An exciting period is the time of chase, and it is extremely interesting -to observe the anxious looks of the officers as they eye the trim of -the sails, and the ready attention of the tars as they execute the -most minute command, as if everything depended on their own individual -exertions. The usual routine of duty frequently gives place to the -all-absorbing stimulus which actuates every mind alike; and, as the -seamen group themselves together, they spin their yarns of battles and -captures, and calculate their share of the amount of prize-money before -they engage the enemy, totally regardless of the advice in the "Cook's -Oracle," viz. "First catch an eel, and then skin him." But what have -they to do with the "Cook's Oracle," when every man is by rotation cook -of the mess in his own natural right, and "gets the plush (overplus) of -grog?" - -All day the chase continued; and the Spankaway overhauled the stranger -so as materially to lessen the distance between them: in fact, her hull -could be plainly discerned from the deck, and there was no longer any -doubt of her national character. In the afternoon permission was given -to take the hammocks below, but not a man availed himself of it; they -were therefore re-stowed in readiness for that engagement which all -hearts were eager for, all hands itching to begin. Evening closed in, -and keen eyes were employed to keep sight of the enemy. The men lay down -at their quarters; some to take a nigger's sleep,--one eye shut and the -other open; some to converse in good audible whispers; some leaning out -at the ports, and watching the moonbeams reflected on the waters, whilst -the hissing and chattering noise made by the progress of the ship was -sweet music to their ears. - -It was a lovely night for contemplation,--but what did Jack want with -contemplation whilst an enemy's frigate was in sight? The breeze was -light enough to please a lady,--it would have scarcely vibrated the -cords of an Æolian lyre: but this was not the breeze for our honest -tars; they wanted to hear the gale thrilling through the harpstrings of -the standing rigging, with a running accompaniment of deep bass from the -ocean, as their counter, set in sea, trebled the piping noise of the -wind. Yet there was one satisfaction; the Frenchman had no more than -themselves, and they carried every fresh capful along with them before -it reached the chase. The full round moon tried her best endeavour to -make her borrowed radiance equally as luminous as that of the glorious -orb which so generously granted the loan, with only one provision, -that a certain rate of interest should be paid to the earth; but the -old girl on this night tried to sport the principal. The waters were -lucidly clear, and the mimic waves on its surface would scarcely have -been a rough sea to that model of a Dutch dogger--a walnut-shell. Yet -the Spankaway was stealing along some seven knots an hour, and the sails -just slept a dreamer's sleep. - -On the forecastle--that post of honour to a seaman, where the tallest -and the best of Britain's pride are always to be found--men who can -take the weather-wheel, heave the lead, splice a cable, or furl a -foresail,--the A. B.'s of the royal navy,--on the forecastle, just -in amidships, before the mast, sat our old friend, Jack Sheavehole, -Sam Slick, the ship's tailor, Joe Nighthead, Mungo Pearl, a negro -captain of the sweepers, Jemmy Ducks, the poulterer, Bob Martingal, a -forecastleman, and several others, who were stationed at the foremost -guns. - -"I just tell you what it is, Jack," said Bob Martingal, continuing a -dispute that had arisen, "I tell you what it is; some on you is as -onbelieving as that 'ere Jew as they've legged down so much again, and -who, they say, is working a traverse all over the world to this very -hour, with a billy-goat's beard afore him as long as a chafing mat. But, -take care, my boyo, you arn't conwincetecated some o' these here odd -times, when you least expects it." - -"Onbelieving about what, Bob?" responded the boatswain's mate. -"Onbelieving 'cause we don't hoist in all your precious tough yarns as -'ud raise a fellow's hair on eend, and make his head look a mainshroud -dead-eye stuck round with marlin'-spikes?" - -"Or a cushionful of pins," chimed in Sam Slick. - -"Or a duck with his tail up," added the poulterer. - -"Hould your precious tongues, you lubbers!--what should you know about -the build and rig of a devil's own craft? retorted Bob, addressing the -two officials. "My messmate here, and that's ould Jack, has got a good -and nat'ral right to calculate the jometry of the thing, seeing as he -has sarved his life to the ocean, man and boy, and knows an eyelet-hole -from a goose's gun-room, which, I take it, is more nor both on you -together can diskiver either in the twist of a button-catcher or the -drawing of a pullet. But I'm saying, Jack, you are onbelieving,--else -why do you misdoubt the woracity of my reckoning." - -"'Cause you pitches it too strong, Bob," answered the boatswain's mate; -"your reck'ning is summut like ould Blowhard's, as keeps the Duncan's -Head at Castle-rag,--chalks two for one. Spin your yarns to the marines, -Bob; they'll always believe you. Cause why?--they expects you'll just -hould on by their monkey-tails in return." - -"Monkey-tails or no monkey-tails arn't the question," returned Bob with -some warmth; "it's the devil's tail as I'm veering away upon, and----" - -"I'm blessed if it won't bring you up all standing with a roundturn -round your neck some o' these here days," uttered Jack, interrupting him. - -"Never mind that," returned Bob with a knowing shake of the head; "I -shall uncoil it again, if he arn't got the king's broad arrow on the end -on it. But mayhap, then, you won't believe as there is such a justice o' -peace as ould Davy?" - -"Do I believe my catechiz as I forgot long ago?" responded old Jack. -"Why, yes, messmate, I wooll believe that there is a consarn o' the -kind; but not such a justice o' peace as you'd make of him, rigged out -in one o' your 'long-shore clargy's sky-scraper shovel-nosed trucks, -leather breeches, and top-boots! I tell you it won't do, Bob, in the -regard o' the jography o' the matter. Why, where the h--is he to coil -away his outrigger in a pair of tight leather rudder casings over his -starn? Ax the tailor there whether it arn't onpossible. And how could -he keep top-boots on to his d--d onprincipled shanks, as are no better -in the fashion of their cut than a couple of cow's trotters? And what -single truck would fit two mast-heads at once, seeing as he al'ays -carries a pair of horns as big as a bull's. No, no, Bob; you wants -to make a gentleman of the picarooning wagabone, when everybody as -knows anything about him knows he's a thundering blagguard, as my ould -captain, Sir Joseph Y--ke, used to say in one of his beautiful sarmons, -'he goes cruising about seeking to devour a roaring lion,' and that's -no child's play anyhow! But, howsomever, a yarn's a yarn, ould chap; so -lather-away with your oak stick: I'll hoist in all I can, just to confar -a favour on you; and, as for the rest, why I'll let it go by the run." - -"I must crave permission to put in a word, since I have been -professionally appealed to," said Sam Slick with becoming gravity, and -smoothing down the nap of his sleeping-jacket. "With respect to the -breeches,--wash-leather, after they have been worn for some time, will -give and stretch, and----" - -"Come, none o' your stretching, Sam," chimed in Jemmy Ducks. "What -you've got to show is, whether you can stow a cable in a hen-coop." - -"Not exactly," returned Sam; "for I'm sure Mister Sheavehole must allow -that the capacity and capability of a pair of leather breeches----" - -"I shan't never allow no such consarns as them 'ere!" exclaimed Jack. -"Do, Bob, get on with your yarn, and clap a stopper on the lubber's -jawing-gear." - -"Well, since you've put me upon it by misdoubting my woracity," said -Bob, "why, I'll up and tell you a thing or two. Which on you has ever -been down to Baltimore?" - -"I have," returned a forecastleman, impatient to wedge in a word or two. -"I was there onest in a ship transport, and our jolly-boat broke adrift -in the night, and went ashore without leave; and so, next morning, we -sees her lying on the beach all alone, as if she'd been a liberty-boy -hard up in the regard o' the whiskey. And so the second mate and a party -goes to launch her: but some wild Ingines, only they warn't quite black, -came down, and wouldn't let us lay a finger on her till we'd paid summut -for hauling her up, which was all nat'ral in course; but the second mate -hadn't never got not a single copper whatsomever about him, and so he -orders us to launch her whether or no, Tom Collins; and, my eyes! but -they did kick up a shindy, jabbering in a lingo like double Dutch coiled -again the sun; and says one on 'em, seeing as we were man-handling the -boat, says he, 'Arrah, Tim, call to de boys to bring down de shticks---- -'" - -"You means Baltimore in Ireland," uttered Bob, with some degree of -contempt, "and I means Baltimore in the United States o' Maryland, where -the river runs along about three leagues out of Chesapeake Bay,--and a -pretty place it is too of a Saturday night for a bit of a John Canooing, -and a bite of pigtail, letting alone the grog and the gals----" - -"Which you never did, Bob, I'll be sworn," said Jack laughing. - -"Never did what, Jack?" asked the other, apparently surprised at the -positive assertion. - -"Why, let the grog and the gals alone, God A'mighty bless both on 'em!" -replied the boatswain's mate; "but heave a-head, my hearty." - -Bob gave a self-satisfied grin, and proceeded. "Why, d'ye mind, I'd been -fool enough to grease my heels from a hooker,--no matter whatsomever -her name might be or where she sailed from, seeing as she carried a -coach-whip at her main-truck and a rogue's yarn in her standing and -running gear. But I was young and foolish, and my brains hadn't come to -their proper growth; and one o' your land-sharks had got a grip o' me; -and there I was a-capering ashore, and jumping about like a ring-tail -monkey over a hot plantain; and so I brings up at the sign of the -General Washingtub, and there used to be a lot of outrageous tarnation -swankers meet there for a night's spree,--fellows as carried bright -marlin'-spikes in their pockets for toothpicks, and what not, and -sported Spanish dollars on their jackets for buttons. They belonged to -a craft as laid in the harbour,--a reg'lar clipper, all legs and wings: -she had a white cherry-bum for a figure-head; ounly there was a couple -o' grease-horns sprouting out on the forehead, and she was as pretty a -piece of timber upon the water as ever was modelled by the hand of the -devil." - -"Why, how do you know who moulded her frame, Bob?" inquired Jack -provokingly. "It might have been some honest man's son, instead of the -ould chap as you mentions. But if any one sees a beautiful hooker that's -more beautifuller nor another, then she's logged down as the devil's own -build, and rigged by the captain of the sweepers." - -"Wharra you mean by dat, Massa Jack?" exclaimed Mungo Pearl, who held -that honourable station, and felt his dignity offended by the allusion; -"wharra you mean by dat, eh?" - -"Just shut your black-hole," answered Jack with a knowing look; "don't -the ould witches ride upon birch-brooms, and sweep through the air,--and -arn't the devil their commander-in-chief? Well, then, in course he is -captain o' the sweepers. But go along, Bob. I'll lay my allowance o' -grog to-morrow she was painted black." - -"Well, so she was, Jack," responded Martingal, "all but a narrow fiery -red ribbon round her sides, as looked for all the world like a flash o' -lightning darting out of a thunder-cloud; and her name was the In-fun-oh -(Infernaux), but I'm d--d if there was any fun in the consarn arter -all. Well, d'ye see, the hands were a jolly jovial set, with dollars -as plentiful as boys' dumps, and they pitched 'em away at the lucky, -and made all sneer again. The skipper was a civil-spoken gentleman, -with a goodish-sized ugly figure-head of his own, one eye kivered over -with a black patch, and the other summut like a stale mackerel's; but -it never laid still, and was al'ays sluing round and round, 'cause it -had to do double duty. Still he was a pleasantish sort of a chap, and -had such a 'ticing way with him, that when he axed me to ship in the -craft, I'm blow'd if I could say 'No,' though I felt summut dubersome -about the consarn; and the more in regard of an ould tar telling me -the black patch was all a sham, but he was obliged to kiver the eye -up, 'cause it was a ball o' fire as looked like a glowing cinder in -a fresh breeze. He'd sailed with him a voyage or two, and he swore -that he had often seen the skipper clap his cigar under the false port -and light it by his eye; and one night in a gale o' wind, when the -binnacle-lamp couldn't be kept burning, he steered the ship a straight -course by the compass from the brightness of his eye upon the card. -Howsomever, I didn't much heed to all that 'ere, seeing as I knowed -how to spin a tough yarn myself: and then there was the grog and the -shiners, a sweet ship and civil dealing; and I'll just ax what's the -use o' being nice about owners, as long as you do what's right and -ship-shape? 'Still, messmate,' thinks I to myself, 'it's best not to be -too much in a hurry;' so I backs and fills, just dropping with the tide -of inclination, and now and then letting go the kedge o' contradiction -to swing off from the shore; and at last I tould him 'I'd let him know -next day.' Well, I goes to the ould tar as I mentioned afore, and I -tells him all about it. 'Don't go for to sign articles in no such a -craft as that 'ere,' says he in a moloncholy way.--'Why not?' says I, -quite gleesome and careless, though there was a summut that comothered -me all over when he spoke.--'I mustn't tell you,' says he; 'but take my -advice, and never set foot on board a craft that arn't got no 'sponsible -owners,' says he.--'You must tell me more nor that,' says I, 'or you -may as well tell me nothing. You've been to sea in her, and are safe -enough; why shouldn't I?'--'I advise you for your good,' says he again, -all fatherlike and gently; 'you can do as you please. You talk of my -safety,' and he looked cautiously round him; 'but it's the parsen as has -done it for me.'--'Oh! I see how the land lies,' says I; 'you're a bit -of a methodish, and so strained the yarns o' your conscience, 'cause you -made a trip to the coast o' Guinea for black wool.'--He shook his head: -'Black wool, indeed,' says he; 'but no man as knows what I knows would -ever lay hand to sheet home a topsel for a commander who----' and he -brought up his speech all standing.--'Who what?' axes I; but he wouldn't -answer: and so, being a little hopstropulous in my mind, and willing to -try the hooker, 'It's no matter,' says I, 'I'll have a shy at her if I -loses my beaver. No man can expect to have the devil's luck and his own -too.'--'That's it!' says he, starting out like a dogvane in a sudden -puff.--'That's what?' axes I.--'The devil's luck!' says he: 'don't -go for to ship in that craft. She's handsome to look at; but, like a -painted scullerpar, or sea-poll-ker, or some such name, she's full o' -dead men's bones.'--'Gammon!' says I boldly with my tongue, though I -must own, shipmates, there was summut of a flusteration in my heart as -made me rather timbersome; 'Gammon!' says I, 'what 'ud they do with such -a cargo even in a slaver?'--'I sees you're wilful,' says he angrily; -'but log this down in your memory: if you do ship in that 'ere craft, -you'll be d--d!'--'Then I'll be d--d if I don't:' says I, 'and so, ould -crusty-gripes, here goes;' and away I started down to one of the keys -just to take a look at her afore I entered woluntary; and there she lay -snoozing as quiet as a cat on a hearth-rug, or a mouse in the caulker's -oakum. Below, she was as black as the ace o' spades, and almost as sharp -in the nose; but, aloft, her white tapering spars showed like a delicate -lady's fingers in silk-net gloves----" - -"Or holding a skein of silk," chimed in Sam Slick. - -"Well, shipmates," continued Bob; "whilst I was taking a pretty long -eye-drift over her hull and rigging, and casting my thoughts about the -skipper, somebody taps me on the arm, and when I slued round, there -he was himself, _in properer personnee_; and, 'Think o' the devil,' -says I, 'and he's over your shoulder, saving your honour's presence, -and I hopes no offence.' Well, I'm blessed but his eye--that's his -onkivered one, messmates--twinkled and scaled over dark again, just for -all the world like a revolving light, and 'Not no offence at all, my -man,' says he; 'it's al'ays best to be plain-spoken in such consarns; -we shall know one another better by-and-by. But how do you like the -ship?'--'She's a sweet craft, your honour,' says I; 'and I should have -no objection to a good berth on board her, provided we can come to -reg'lar agreement.'--'We shall not quarrel, I dare say, my man,' says -he, quite cool and insinivating; 'my people never grumble with their -wages, and you see yourself they wants for nothing.'--'All well and -good, your honour,' says I; 'and, to make short of the long of it, Bob -Martingal's your own.' Well, his eye twinkled again, and there seemed to -be such a heaving and setting just under the tails of his long togs, and -a sort o' rustling down one leg of his trousers, that blow me if I could -tell what to make on it; and 'I knew you'd be mine,' says he: 'we shall -go to sea in the morning, so you'd better get your traps aboard as soon -as possible.' Well, messmates, I bids him good morning; but, thinks I to -myself, I'll just take a bit of a overhaul of the craft afore I brings -my duds aboard; and so, jumping into a punt, a black fellow pulls me -alongside, and away I goes on to the deck, and there the first person I -seed was the skipper. How he came there was a puzzler, for d--the boat -had left the key but our own since we parted a few minutes afore. 'And -now, Bob,' says he, 'I suppose you are ready to sign.'--'All in good -time, your honour,' says I. 'You're aboard afore me, but I'm blessed if -I seed you come.'--'It warn't necessary you should,' says he; 'my boat -travels quick, my man, and makes short miles.'--'All's the same for -that, your honour,' says I, 'whether you man your barge or float off -on the anchor-stock--it's all as one to Bob.'--'You're a 'cute lad,' -says he, twinkling his eye, 'and must rise in the sarvice. Go below -and visit your future shipmates.'--'Thanky, your honour,' says I, and -down the hatchway I goes; and there were the messes, with fids o' roast -beef and boiled yams in shining silver platters, with silver spoons, -and bottles o' wine, all in grand style, as quite comflogisticated me; -and 'What cheer--what cheer, shipmate?' says they; and then they axed -me to take some grub with 'em, which in course I did. She'd a noble -'tween decks,--broad in the beam, with plenty o' room to swing hammocks; -but, instead of finding ounly twenty hands, I'm blowed if there warn't -more nor a hundred. So arter I'd had a good tuck-out, I goes on deck -again and looks about me. She was a corvette, flush fore and aft, with -a tier of port-holes, but ounly six guns mounted; and never even in a -man-o'-war did I see everything so snug and neat. 'Well, your honour, -I'm ready to sign articles,' says I.--'Very good,' says he; and down -we goes into the cabin; and, my eyes! but there was a set-out,--gold -candlesticks and lamps, and large silver figures, like young himps, -and clear looking-glasses, and silk curtains, and handsome sofas; and -there upon one on 'em sat a beautiful young creatur, with such a pair -of large full eyes as blue as the sky, and white flaxen hair that hung -like fleecy clouds about her forehead,--it made a fellow think of -heaven and the angels: but she never smiled, shipmates,--there was a -moloncholy about the lower part of her face as showed she warn't by no -manner o' means happy; and whilst the skipper was getting the articles -out of the locker, she motioned to me, but I couldn't make out what -she meant. The skipper did, though; for he turned round in a fury, and -stamped on the cabin deck as he lifted up the black patch, and a stream -of light for all the world like the glow of a furnace through a chink -in a dark night fell upon her. He had his back to me, so I couldn't -make out where the light came from; but the poor young lady gave a -skreek and fell backard on the sofa. Now, messmates, I'd obsarved that -when he stamped with his foot that it warn't at all like a nat'ral -human stamp, for it came down more like the hoof of a horse or a box; -and thinks I to myself, 'I'm d--, Bob, but you're in for it now; the -skipper must be a devil of a fellow to use such a lovely creatur arter -that fashion.'--'You're right, my man,' says he, grinning like one o' -them faces on the cat-head, 'he _is_ a _devil_ of a fellow.'--'I never -spoke not never a word, your honour,' says I, thrown all aback by the -concussion. 'No, but you thought it,' says he; 'don't trouble yourself -to deny it: tell lies to everybody else, if you pleases, but it's -no use selling 'em to me.'--'God forbid, your--' I was going to say -'honour,' but he stopped me with another stamp, and 'Never speak that -name in my presence again,' says he; 'if you do, it ull be the worse -for you. Come and sign the articles.' My eyes! shipmates, but I was -in a pretty conflobergasticationment; there stood the skipper, with a -bright steel pen in his hand as looked like a doctor's lanchet, and -there close by his side, upon her beam-ends, laid that lovely young -creatur, the sparkling jewels in her dress mocking the wretchedness of -her countenance. 'Are you ready?' says he; and his onkivered eye rolled -round and round, and seemed to send out sparks through the friction. -'Not exactly, your honour,' says I, 'for I carn't write, in regard o' -my having sprained both ankles, and got a twist in my knee-joint when -I warn't much higher than a quart pot.'--'That's a lie, Bob,' says he; -and so it was, messmates, for I thought I must make some excuse to save -time. 'Howsomever,' says he, 'you can make your mark.'--Thinks I so -myself, 'I would pretty soon, my tight un, if I had you ashore.'--'I -know it,' says he; 'but you're aboard now, and so you may either -sign or not, just as it suits your fancy, my man; ounly understand -this--if you don't sign, you shall be clapped in irons, and fed upon -iron hoops and scupper-nails for the next six months, and I wish you -a good disgestion.'--'Thanky, your honour,' says I; 'and what if I do -sign?'--'Why then,' says he, 'you shall live like a fighting-cock, -and have as much suction as the Prince of Whales.' Well, shipmates, -I was just like the Yankee's schooner when she got jammed atwixt two -winds, and so I thought there could be no very great damage in making a -scratch or two upon a bit o' parchment; and 'All right, your honour,' -says I; 'hand us over the pen: but your honour hasn't got not never -an inkstand.'--'That's none o' your business,' says he; 'if you are -resolved to sign, I'll find materials.'--'Very good,' says I; 'I'll just -make my mark.'--'Hould up!' says he to the young lady; and she scringed -all together in a heap, and shut her large blue eyes as she held up a -beautiful white round arm, bare up to the shoulder: it looked as solid -and as firm as a piece of marble stationery." - -"Statuary, you mean," said Sam Slick, interrupting the narrative. "But I -say, Bob, do you expect us to believe all this?" - -"I believes every word on it," asserted Jemmy Ducks, who had been -attentively listening, with his mouth wide open to catch all that was -uttered: "what can you find onnat'ral or dubersome about it? The skipper -was no doubt a black-hearted nigger." - -"Nigger yousef, Massa Jemmy Ducks," exclaimed Mungo Pearl; "d--you black -heart for twist 'em poultry neck." - -"Silence there in amidships," said Mr. Parallel: "you make so much noise -that I can't keep my glass steady. Spin your yarns, Mr. Pearl, with your -mouth shut, like an oyster;" and then, addressing the captain, "We rise -her fast, my lord, and the breeze freshens: the ould beauty knows she's -got some work cut out for her; she begins to smell garlic, and walks -along like an ostrich on the stretch--legs and wings, and all in full -play." - -"What distance are we from Toulon?" inquired Lord Eustace, as he -carefully and anxiously scanned the stranger through his glass. - -"About nine leagues," promptly answered Mr. Parallel; "and if the -breeze houlds on, or comes stronger, another three hours will carry us -alongside of the enemy." - -"We shall soon have her within reach of the bow-guns," said the first -lieutenant, "and a shot well thrown may take in some of her canvass." - -"That's a good deal of it chance-work," responded the master; "it mought -and it moughtn't; but firing is sure to frighten the----" - -"Spirits of the wind," added Nugent, who stood close beside him; "they -become alarmed and take to flight, and so we lose the flapping of their -airy wings." - -"Hairy grandmother," grumbled old Parallel, "hairy wings indeed; why, -who ever seed such a thing? Spirits of wind, too,--rum spirits, mayhap, -to cure flatulency. Stick to natur, Mr. Nugent, or she'll be giving us -another squall, just out o' revenge for being ridiculed." - -"Get on with your yarn, Bobbo," said Joe Nighthead in an under tone; -"and just you take a reef in your bellows, Mister Mungo, and don't speak -so loud again." - -"Where was I?" inquired Bob thoughtfully: "oh, now I recollect;--down -in the cabin, going to sign the articles. 'Are you quite ready?' says -the skipper to me as he raised the pen. 'All ready,' says I.--'Then -hould up,' says he to the young lady, and she raised her fair arm. 'Come -here, my man,' says he again to me, and I clapped him close alongside -at the table; 'be ready to grab hould o' the pen in a moment, and make -your mark _there_,' and he pointed to a spot on the parchment, with a -brimstone seal stamped again it--you might have smelt it, messmates, -for half a league--and, I'm blessed if I didn't have a fit o' the -doldrums; but, nevertheless, I put a bould face upon it, and, 'Happy -go lucky,' says I, 'all's one to Bob!' and then there was another -rustling noise down the leg of his trousers, and his eye--that's his -onkivered one--flashed again, and took to rolling out sparks like a -flint-mill; 'Listen, my man,' says he, 'to what I'm going to say, -and pay strict attention to it'--'I wool, your honour,' says I; 'but -hadn't the lady better put down her arm?' says I; 'it ull make it ache, -keeping it up so long.'--'Mind your own business, Bob Martingal,' -says he, quite cantankerously; 'she's houlding the inkstand.'--'Who's -cracking now, your honour?' says I laughing; 'the lady arn't got not -nothing whatsomever in her hand. I'm blowed if I don't think you all -carries out the name o' the craft In-fun-oh.'--'Right,' says he; 'and -now attend. If after I have dipt this here pen in the ink, you refuse -to sign the articles--you have heard o' this?' and he touched the -black patch. I gave a devil-may-care sort of a nod. 'Well, then, if -you refuses to sign, I'll nillyate you.'--'Never fear,' says I, making -out to be as bould as a lion, for there was ounly he and I men-folk -in the cabin; and, thinks I to myself, 'I'm a match for him singly at -any rate.'--'You're mistaken,' says he, 'and you'll find it out to -your cost, if you don't mind your behaviour, Bob Martingal.'--'I never -opened my lips, your honour,' says I.--'Take care you don't,' says he, -'and be sure to obey orders.' He turned to the lady. 'Are you prepared, -Marian?' axes he; but she never spoke. 'She's faint, your honour,' says -I, 'God bless her!' The spiteful wretch give me a red-hot look, and -his d---- oncivil cloven foot--for I'd swear to the mark it made--came -crushing on my toes, and made me sing out blue blazes. 'Is that obeying -orders?' says he: 'didn't I command you never to use that name afore -me?'--'You did, your honour,' says I; 'but you might have kept your -hoof off my toes, seeing as I haven't yet signed articles.'--'It was -an accident,' says he, 'and here's something to buy a plaster;' and he -throws down a couple of doubloons, which I claps into my pocket. 'You -enter woluntarily into my service, then?' says he.--'To be sure I do,' -says I, though I'm blessed if I wouldn't have given a treble pork-piece -to have been on shore again.--'And you'll make your mark to that?' -says he, 'and ax no further questions?'--'To be sure I will,' says I; -and I'll just tell you what it is, messmates, I'm blowed if ever I was -more harder up in my life than when I seed him raise the pen, as looked -like a sharp lanchet, in his infernal thieving-hooks, and job it right -into that beautiful arm, and the blood spun out, and the lady gave a -skreek; and 'Sign--sign!' says he; 'quick, my man--your mark!'--'No, -I'm d--if I do,' says I; 'let blood be on them as sheds it.'--'You -won't?' says he.--'Never, you spawn o' Bellzebub!' says I; for I'd -found him out, shipmates.--'Then take the consequences,' says he; and -up went the black patch, and, by the Lord Harry! he sported an eye that -nobody never seed the like on in their lives; it looked as big and as -glaring as one o' them red glass bottles of a night-time as stands in -the potecarry's windows with a lamp behind 'em; but it was ten thousand -times more brilliant than the fiercest furnace that ever blazed,--you -couldn't look upon it for a moment; and I felt a burning heat in my -heart and in my stomach, as if I'd swallowed a pint of vitriol; and my -strength was going away and I was withering to a hatomy, when all at -once I recollects a charm as my ould mother hung round my neck when I -was a babby, and I snatches it off and houlds it out at arm's length -right in his very face. My precious eyes and limbs! how he did but caper -about the cabin, till his hat fell off, and there was his two fore-tack -bumkins reg'larly shipped over his bows and standing up with a bit of a -twist outwards just like the head-gear of a billy-goat. 'Keep off, you -bitch's babby!' says I, for he tried onknown schemes and manoeuvres -to get at me; till suddenly I hears a loud ripping of stitches, and -away went the casings of his lower stancheons, and out came a tail as -long----" - -"Almost as long as your'n, I suppose," said old Jack Sheavehole; "a -precious yarn you've been spinning us, Mister Bob!" - -"But what became of the lady?" inquired Sam Slick; "and what a lubber of -a tailor he must have been to have performed his work so badly!" - -"The lady?" repeated Bob; "why, I gets her in tow under my arm, and -shins away up the companion-ladder, the ould fellow chasing me along the -deck with a boarding-pike, his tail sticking straight out abaft, just -like a spanker-boom over his starn; but the charm kept him off, and away -I runs to the gangway, where the shore-boat and the nigger were waiting, -and you may guess, shipmates, I warn't long afore we were hard at work -at the paddles; for I laid the lady down in the bottom o' the punt, and -'Give way, you bit of ebony,' says I, 'or Jumbee 'ull have you stock -and fluke.' Well, if there warn't a bobbery aboard the In-fun-oh, there -never was a bobbery kicked up in the world; and 'Get ready that gun -there!' shouted the skipper." - -At this moment the heavy booming of a piece of ordinance was heard -sounding across the water. Up jumped Jemmy Ducks, and roared out, "Oh -Lord! oh dear!--there's the devil again!--what shall I do!" and a -general laugh followed. - -"The chase is trying his range, my lord," exclaimed Mr. Seymour; "but -the shot must have fallen very short, as we couldn't hear it." - -"Keep less noise on the fokesel," said old Parallel. "What ails that -lubberly wet-nurse to all the geese in the ship? Ay, ay, he'll have -hould on you by-and-by! Get a pull of that topmast-stud'nsel tack." - -The men immediately obeyed; and, as they were coming up fast with the -enemy, excitement and impatience put an end to long yarns. But Bob just -squeezed out time to tell them that he got safe ashore with the lady; -and the "In-fun-oh" tripped her anchor that same tide, dropped down the -river, and put to sea, nor was she ever heard of again afterwards. The -lady was the daughter of a rich merchant in Baltimore, who had been -decoyed away from her family, but by the worthy tar's instrumentality -was happily restored again. Bob got a glorious tuck-out aboard, the two -doubloons were safe in his pocket, and the father of Marian treated him -like a prince. - -Half an hour elapsed from the first discharge of the enemy's -sternchaser, when he again tried his range; and, to prove how rapidly -they were nearing each other, the shot this time passed over the British -frigate. There was something exhilarating to the ears of the seamen in -the whiz of its flight. Two or three taps on the drum aroused every man -to his quarters; the guns were cast loose, and the bowchasers cleared -away for the officers to practise. Heavy bets were made relative -to hitting the target, the iron was well thrown, and every moment -increased the eagerness of the tars to get fairly alongside. The land -was rising higher and higher out of the water,--the French port was -in view,--the enemy began to exult in the prospect of escape, when an -eighteen-pounder, pointed by the hands of the old master, brought down -her maintop-gallant-mast; and the Frenchman, finding it was utterly -impossible to get away without fighting, shortened sail, and cleared for -action. Three cheers hailed this manoeuvre. The British tars now made -certain of their prize; and, when within half pistol-shot, in came the -Spankaway's flying-kites, and in five minutes he was not only under snug -commanding canvass, but the moment they returned to their quarters they -passed close under the French frigate's stern, and steadily poured in -a raking broadside, every shot doing its own proper duty, and crashing -and tearing the enemy's stern-frame to pieces, ploughing up the decks -as they ranged fore and aft, and diminishing the strength of their -opponents by no less than twenty-seven killed and wounded. Still the -Frenchman fought bravely, and handled his vessel in admirable style. -Six of the Spankaway's lay dead, and thirteen wounded. Amongst the -latter was our worthy old friend Will Parallel, the master; a splinter -had struck him on the breast, and he was carried below insensible. -Sea-fights have so often been described, that they have now but little -novelty; let it therefore suffice, that, in fifty-six minutes from -the first broadside, the tricoloured flag came down, and the national -frigate _Hippolito_, mounting forty-four guns, struck to his Britannic -Majesty's ship the Spankaway, whose first lieutenant, Mr. Seymour, was -sent aboard to take possession, as a prelude to that step which he was -now certain of obtaining. Thus two nights of labour passed away, and the -triumph of the second made ample amendment for the misfortunes of the -first; besides enabling the warrant-officers to expend their stores, and -not a word about the white squall. - - - - - INDEX. - - A. - Addison, Mr. inedited letters of, 356, 357, 358, 360, 363; - anecdotes of him, 357 _n._; - remarks respecting him, 358, 359 _n._, 361, 362 _n._ - Advertisement Extraordinary, theatrical, 152. - Ainsworth, W. H. piece by, 325. - Alps, inhabitants of the, observations on their superstition, 608. - Anatomy of Courage, 398. - An Evening of Visits, 80. - Anselm, Abbot, 347. - Anspach, Margravine of, mistake in her Memoirs - respecting the elder George Colman, 7. - Anti Dry-rot Company, song of the, 94. - April Fools, song of the month, 325. - Authors and Actors, a dramatic sketch, 132. - - B. - Bannister, J. his intimacy with George Colman, 14. - Baon Ri Dhuv, or the Black Lady, legend of, 519. - Barter, Richie, see _Richie Barter_. - ----, Mrs. see _Plum, Lady_. - Bath, Lord, 7. - Bayly, T. Haynes, pieces by, 79, 153, 260, 354, 578. - Beaumanoir, Col. de, 96. - Beaumarchais, M. de, passage in his life, 233. - Biographical Sketch of Richardson the Showman, 178. - Black Lady, legend of, see _Baon Ri Dhuv_. - Blue Wonder, story of the, 450. - Bob Burns and Beranger, 525. - Bobis Head, legend of, 519. - Bottle of St. Januarius, song of the month for January, 1. - "Boz," pieces by, 105, 218, 225, 291, 326, 430, 515. - Budgell, Mr. his remarks respecting Lord Halifax - and Mr. Addison, 358 n. - Bugle, Miss Sarah, account of, 451. - Bullfinch, Mr. Theophilus, 591. - Bumble, Mr. 109, 218, 225, 430. - Byron, his opinion of Sheridan, 427. - - C. - Canada, remarks on travelling in, 559. - Carew, Molly, lament of her Irish lover, 527. - Castlereagh, Lord, 581. - Chapman, T. paper by, 410. - Chapter in the Life of a Statesman, - being inedited letters of Addison, 356. - Clavijo, Don Joseph, 236. - Claypole, Noah, his treatment of Oliver Twist, 327; - his quarrel with him, 336; - conversation with Mr. Bumble, 430. - Cleaver, Dr. sketch of his life and character, 442. - Clifton, the Hot Wells of, 63. - C----, M. de, 86. - Cobbler of Dort, story of the, 403. - Coleridge, remarks respecting, 417. - Collier, W. paper by, 485. - Colman, Francis, 7. - ----, the elder George, remarks respecting, 7. - ----, George, memoir of, 7; - lines written by, 12; - impromptu by, 16. - Conla, 522. - Contradiction, 338. - Cooper, J. F. piece by, 80. - Courage, Anatomy of, 398. - Cover, song of the, 402. - Craggs, Mr. junior, remarks respecting him, 361 n. - Crichton, James (the admirable,) eulogiums on, 416. - Critical Gossip with Lady M. W. Montagu, 138. - Curetoun, Dr. 123. - ----, Mrs. C. 121. - - D. - Darby the Swift, his personal appearance, 543; - story respecting him, 544. - Dash, Capt. Lord Eustace, character of, 269; - anecdote related by, 276. - Davids, C. J. pieces by, 231, 297, 339. - Dawkins, Jack, 439. - Devil and Johnny Dixon, 251. - Dibbs, Mrs. 565. - Didler, Dick, adventures of, 565. - Dixon, Johnny, description of, 252; - account of his adventure with the Devil, 255. - Doall, Dr. his professional schemes, 444. - Downwithit, Dr. character of, 121. - Doyle, Owen, 20. - Dulcet, Dr. account of, 288. - Dumb Waiter, lines on the, 341. - - E. - Edward Saville, a transcript, 155. - Egan, Squire, 23, 27, 169; - his adventures with Gustavus Granby O'Grady, - owing to the mistakes of Handy Andy, 171; - with Murlough Murphy, 373. - English poets, Gossip with some Old, 98. - Epigrams, 190, 381, 409, 493, 508. - Eva, 522. - Evening Meditation, 250. - Evening of Visits, 80. - Execution, the, a sporting anecdote, 561. - - F. - Falcon, Dr. his marriage, 450; - his expectations from Miss Sarah Bugle, 451. - Falstaff, Sir John, observations on his influence with Henry V. - while Prince of Wales, 494; - Johnson's character of 496; - his Gadshill adventure, 503; - remarks on his countenance, 506. - Family Stories, No. 1. 191; - No. 11. 266; - No. III. 341; - No. IV. 529; - No. V. 561. - Feaghan, Father Paul, 253. - Fiddler, Mrs. 137. - Fireside Stories, No. I, 191, see _Family Stories_. - Fitzalban, Capt. Hon. A. F. story respecting his cow, 65. - Fitzgerald, Lord E. observations on, 558. - Fitzgrowl, Mr. 132. - Fog, lines on a London, 492. - Fontenelle, lines in imitation of, 88. - Foote, Samuel, remarks respecting him, 10; - memoir of, 298; - his plays, 300; - accusations against him, 303; - his death, 304; - opinions of his comedies, _ib._; - of his dramas, _ib._; - anecdotes of him, 305. - Fothergill, Father, description of, 344. - Fragment of Romance, 165. - Friar Laurence and Juliet, a poem, 354. - - G. - Gamfield, Mr. 219. - Garrick, David, Foote's ridicule of, 305. - Goldsmith, Oliver, anecdotes of, 9. - Goodere, Capt. 299. - ----, Sir John, allusion to his murder, 299. - Glorvina, the Maid of Meath, 614. - Gossip with some Old English Poets, 98. - Grand Cham of Tartary and the Humble-bee, a poem, 339. - Green, Mr. specimen of his poetry, 101. - Grey Dolphin, story of the, 341. - Grummet, J. 67. - - H. - Hajji Baba, his remarks on England, 280; - his projected mission to England, 284; - his preparations, 364; - instructions, 366; - his remarks on the alterations among the Turks, 369; - his inquiries on the state of England, 487; - observations on France, 488; - his passage to Dover, 489; - remarks on the officers of customs, 490. - Halifax, Earl of, see _Montague, Charles_. - Hamburgh, Steam trip to, 509. - Handy Andy, paper so called, No. I. 20; - No. II. 169; - No. III. 373. - Headlong Hall, pieces by the author of, 29, 187. - Hero and Leander, a poem, 410. - Herrick, Mr. specimen of his poetry, 99. - Hints for an Historical Play, 597. - Hippothanasia; or, the last of Tails--a lamentable tale, 319. - Hogarth, George, piece by, 233. - Horse-pond, Reflections in a, 470. - Hot Wells of Clifton, lines to the, 64. - - I. - Impromptu, by George Colman, 16; - on "Boz," 297. - Improvement, the victim of, 599. - Ingoldsby, T. 201; - papers by, 266, 341, 529. - ----, Caroline, legend of "Tapton Everard" related by, 195. - Inscription for a cemetery, 473. - Introduction to the Biography of my - Aunt Jemima, the Political Economist, 382. - Ivory, Mr. his relation of the story of "Plunder Creek," 127. - - J. - Jackdaw of Rheims, 529. - Jaques, criticism on Shakspeare's character of, 550. - Jennings, Mr. 55, 59. - ----, Mrs. story of, 591. - Jordan, W. pieces written by, 178, 319. - J----, Madame de, 86. - Jocund, Joyce, piece written by, 190. - Johnson, Dr. 8; - anecdotes of, 9; - his remarks on Foote, 301, 305; - his Rasselas, 550. - Johns, Richard, piece by, 313. - Jonson, Ben, specimen of his poetry, 98. - - K. - Kats, Jacob, cobbler of Dort, story respecting, 403. - Kingston, Duchess of, her persecution of Foote, 303. - Knowles, Sheridan, paper by, 614. - Kyan's Patent--the Nine Muses and the Dry-rot, 93. - - L. - Lament over the Bannister, 151. - Lavender, Lord John, account of his projected marriage - with Miss Sophy Miggins, 260. - Leary the Piper's Lilt, song of the month for May, 429. - Legends--of Manor Hall, 29; - of Hamilton Tighe, 266; - of Bohis Head, 519; - of Mount Pilate, 608. - Le Gros, C. F. paper by, 247. - Les Poissons d'Avril, 397. - Lines on the "Young Veteran," John Bannister, 168; - to a Lyric and Artist, 177. - Linley, Miss, poem to, 420; - her marriage with Sheridan, 421; - her death, 425. - Lions, some particulars concerning a, 515. - Literature of North America, observations on, 534. - Little Bit of Tape, story of the, 313. - Littlejohn, Mr. 67. - London Fog, lines on a, 492. - Love and Poverty, 469. - Love in the City, 584. - Lover, Samuel, pieces by, 20, 88, 169, 217, 373. - - M. - Mac Gawly, Roger, 34. - ----, Biddy, 33. - M'Flummery, Mr. story respecting, 210. - Madrigal Society, description of the, 465. - Magan, Mr. 255. - Magian, Dr. papers by, 2, 105, 494, 550. - Maguire, Barney, 191. - Mann, Mrs. 109. - Manor Hall, legend of, 29. - Man with the Tuft, 576. - Marbois, Marquis de, 81, 82 _n._ - Mars and Venus, a poem, 247. - Martingal, Bob, story related by, 625. - Marvel, Andrew, extract from his poem addressed to Lord Fairfax, 99. - May Morning, song of the month for May, 429. - Meditation, an Evening, 250. - Memoir of George Colman, 7. - Merry Christmas, 260. - Metastasio, an imitation of, 88. - Metropolitan Men of Science, 89. - Miggins, Mr. Peter, his letter to Lord John Lavender, 260. - ----, Miss Sophy, 261, 265. - Minister's Fate, the, 577. - "Monstre" Balloon, a poem, 17. - Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, remarks on her character, 138; - comparison between, and Byron, 140; - extracts from her letters, 141; - her observations on Addison, 362 _n._ - Montague, Charles, Earl of Halifax, - Addison's letters to, 356, 358, 360, 363; - remarks respecting him, 358 _n._ 359. - Months, songs of the, No. I. 1; - No. II. 105; - No. III. 217; - No. IV. 325; - No. V. 429; - No. VI. 533. - Morgan, Mr. 25. - Morier, J. Italian anecdote by, 103. - Mount Pilate, legend of, 608. - Murphy, Murtough, character of, 171; - his duel with Squire Egan, 373. - Murtough Murphy, _see Murphy_. - Muskan, Prince Puckler, paper by, 398. - - N. - Nights at Sea; or Sketches of Naval Life during the War, No. I. 269; - No. II. 474; - No. III. 621. - North American Indians, remarks on the periodical literature of, 534; - on their poetry, 536. - Nugent, Mr. specimen of his poetical taste, 272, 273. - - O. - Ode from the Emerald Isle, 620. - O'Dryscull, Reddy, communications by, 45, 397, 525. - O'Finn, Mrs. character of, 33; - her conversation with Terence O'Shaughnessy, 41. - O'Funnidos, Rigdum, piece written by, 208. - Ogle, Miss, her marriage with Sheridan, 425. - Old Age and Youth, a poem, 79. - Old English Poets, a Gossip with, 98. - Oliver Twist, his birth, 105; - education and board, 107; - escapes being apprenticed to a sweep, 218; - his entry into public life, 225; - conduct during his apprenticeship, 326; - his quarrel with Noah Claypole, 334; - his refractory conduct, 430; - account of his journey to London, 435; - of his rencontre with the strange young gentleman, 437; - introduction to the Jew, 441. - Ollier, Charles, paper by, 98. - Opening Chaunt to the Miscellany, 6. - "Original" Dragon, a legend of the Celestial Empire, 231. - Original of "Not a drum was heard," 97. - O'Shaughnessy, Terence, see _Terence O'Shaughnessy_. - - P. - Paddy Blake's Echo, 186. - Palaver, Mrs. character of, 591. - Pantomine of Life, 291. - Parallel, Mr. story told by, 277, 616. - Paris, remarks on society in, 86; picture of, in 1837, 387. - Passage in the Life of Beaumarchais, 233. - Perceval, Mr. remarks on his assassination, 679. - Periodical Literature of the North American Indians, 534. - Peter Plumbago's Correspondence, 448. - Peters, Mr. 196. - ----, Mrs. 196. - Phillips, Ambrose, remarks respecting him, 359 _n._ - "Plunder Creek," (1783,) a legend of New York, 121. - Plum, Sir Toby, 116. - ----, Lady, 116. - Poets, Gossip with some Old English, 98. - Pontius Pilate, legend respecting, 610. - Pooledoune, John, the victim of improvement, 599. - ----, Roger, 600. - Portrait Gallery, No. I. 286; - No. II. 442. - Pounce, Mr. story related by him to the Wide-awake Club, 209. - Poverty, glee in praise of, 525. - Prologue to the miscellany, 2. - "Prout, Father," pieces by, 1, 46, 63, 96, 397, 525. - - Q. - Queershanks, Mr. 135. - - R. - Randolph, Thomas, specimen of his poetry, 99. - "Random Records," extract from, 14. - Rankin, F. H. paper by, 382. - "Rattlin the Reefer," piece by the author of, 65. - Rasselas, remarks on, 550. - Reckoning with Time, 12. - Recollections of Childhood, 187. - Reflections in a Horse-pond, 471. - Remains of Hajji Baba, 280, 364, 487. - Remnant of the time of Izaak Walton, a poem, 230. - Reynolds, Hamilton, piece by, 138. - Rheims, Jackdaw of, 529. - Richardson, John, the Showman, biographical account of, 178. - Richie Barter, story of, 116. - Rising Periodical, 101. - Robethon, M. de, Addison's letter to, 357. - Romance of a Day, 565. - Rooney, Andy, see _Handy Andy_. - Rose, Sir George, piece by, 168. - - S. - Sabine Farmer's Serenade, 46. - Saddleton, Emanuel, 341. - Scenes in the Life of a Gambler, 387. - Scowl, Mr. 133. - Seaforth, Lieut. Charles, account of his somnambulism, 191. - Seymour, Mr. story related by, 276. - Shakspeare, criticisms on his plays, 551. - Shakspeare Papers, No. I. 494; - No. II. 550. - Sheavehole, Jack, story told by, 476. - Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, memoirs of, 419; - his poem to Miss Linley, 420; - private marriage with her, 421; - his plays, 422; - his parliamentary talents, 424; - anecdote of, 425; - his second marriage, _ib._; - his misfortunes, 426; - death, _ib._; - character, 427; - Byron's opinion of, _ib._ - Shurland, Sir Ralph de, adventures of, 341. - Signs of the Zodiac, a gastronomical chaunt, 397. - Simpkinson, Mr. character of, 197. - ----, Miss Julia, her poetic taste, 197; - her ode, 200. - Slowby, Richard, account of his adventures, 313. - ----, Sir James, 313. - Smyrk, Mr. Peter, 116. - Snaps, Mr. story respecting, 210. - Some particulars concerning a Lion, 515. - Songs, for the private theatre or drawing-room, 92; - of the Anti Dry-rot Company, 94; - of the Cover, 402; - songs of the month, No. I. 1; - No. II. 105; - No. III. 217; - No. IV 325; - No. V. 429; - No. VI. 533. - Sonnet to a Fog, 371. - Sorrows of Life, lines on the, 290. - Sowerberry, Mrs. character of, 229; - dislike of Oliver Twist, 335. - ----, Mr. description of, 225; - takes Oliver Twist as an apprentice, 227; - his conversation respecting him, 328; - character of, 433. - Spectre of Tappington, story of the, 191. - Spencer, Charles, Earl of Sunderland, - remarks respecting him, 363 _n._ - Spriggings, Miss Priscilla, 572. - Steam Trip to Hamburgh, 509. - "Stories of Waterloo," pieces by the author of, 33, 251. - Stray Chapters, No. I. 291; - No. II. 515. - Summer Night's Reverie, a poem, 428. - Sunderland, Earl of, see _Spencer, Charles_. - Swift, Dean, anecdote of, 2. - - T. - "Tales of an Antiquary," pieces by the author of, 121. - Tappington Everard, description of the Manor House of, 192. - Terence O'Shaughnessy, account of his first attempt - to get married, 33. - The Abbess and the Duchess, a poem, 153. - The Abbey House, 187. - Theatrical Advertisement Extraordinary, 152. - "The Bee-Hive," pieces by the author of, 286, 442. - "The Old Sailor," pieces by, 269, 474. - The Spectre, a poem, 131. - The Two Butlers, 306. - Time, Reckoning with, a poem by Colman the Younger, 12. - Timmins, Mr. his description of the Wide-awake Club, 209. - Tom ----, story respecting, 306. - Tomnoddy, Lord, 561. - Travelling, remarks on, 561. - Tulrumble, Mr. N. account of the public life of, 49. - ----, Mrs. 51, 52. - Twigger, Edward, 53. - - U. - Useful Young Man, a poem, 485. - - V. - Victoria, Princess, ode on her birth-day, 620. - Visit to the Madrigal Society, 465. - Visits, an Evening of, 80. - - W. - Wade, J. A. pieces by, 186, 492. - Warwick, Countess of, notice of her marriage with Addison, 362 n. - Webbe, Egerton, paper by, 371. - Wharton, Duke of, anecdote of, 357 n. - ----, Thomas, Earl of Wharton, lord lieutenant of Ireland, - remarks respecting, 356 n. - Whitehead, C. pieces by, 155, 461. - Who are you? a song, 88. - Who milked by cow? paper so called, 65. - Wide-awake Club, character of the, 208. - Whitbread, Mr. his respect for Mr. Perceval, 583. - - Y. - Youth's New Vade Mecum, a poem, 462. - - Z. - "Zohrab," papers by the author of, 280, 364, 487. - - - END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. - London: Printed by Samuel Bentley, Dorset-street, Fleet-street. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Bentley's Miscellany, Volume I, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY, VOLUME I *** - -***** This file should be named 44578-8.txt or 44578-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/5/7/44578/ - -Produced by Paul Marshall, Jason Isbell and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -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. 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