summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/old
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
-rw-r--r--old/lvgro10.txt24650
-rw-r--r--old/lvgro10.zipbin0 -> 467533 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/lvgro10h.htm24250
-rw-r--r--old/lvgro10h.zipbin0 -> 473667 bytes
4 files changed, 48900 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/lvgro10.txt b/old/lvgro10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75798a2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/lvgro10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,24650 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lavengro, by George Borrow
+(#3 in our series by George Borrow)
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Lavengro
+
+Author: George Borrow
+
+Release Date: March, 1996 [EBook #452]
+[This file was first posted on January 11, 1996]
+[Most recently updated: August 18, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LAVENGRO ***
+
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1900 Macmillian and Co. Edition by David
+Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
+
+
+
+
+LAVENGRO
+THE SCHOLAR, THE GYPSY, THE PRIEST
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+
+In the following pages I have endeavoured to describe a dream,
+partly of study, partly of adventure, in which will be found
+copious notices of books, and many descriptions of life and
+manners, some in a very unusual form.
+
+The scenes of action lie in the British Islands;--pray be not
+displeased, gentle reader, if perchance thou hast imagined that I
+was about to conduct thee to distant lands, and didst promise
+thyself much instruction and entertainment from what I might tell
+thee of them. I do assure thee that thou hast no reason to be
+displeased, inasmuch as there are no countries in the world less
+known by the British than these selfsame British Islands, or where
+more strange things are every day occurring, whether in road or
+street, house or dingle.
+
+The time embraces nearly the first quarter of the present century:
+this information again may, perhaps, be anything but agreeable to
+thee; it is a long time to revert to, but fret not thyself, many
+matters which at present much occupy the public mind originated in
+some degree towards the latter end of that period, and some of them
+will be treated of.
+
+The principal actors in this dream, or drama, are, as you will have
+gathered from the title-page, a Scholar, a Gypsy, and a Priest.
+Should you imagine that these three form one, permit me to assure
+you that you are very much mistaken. Should there be something of
+the Gypsy manifest in the Scholar, there is certainly nothing of
+the Priest. With respect to the Gypsy--decidedly the most
+entertaining character of the three--there is certainly nothing of
+the Scholar or the Priest in him; and as for the Priest, though
+there may be something in him both of scholarship and gypsyism,
+neither the Scholar nor the Gypsy would feel at all flattered by
+being confounded with him.
+
+Many characters which may be called subordinate will be found, and
+it is probable that some of these characters will afford much more
+interest to the reader than those styled the principal. The
+favourites with the writer are a brave old soldier and his
+helpmate, an ancient gentlewoman who sold apples, and a strange
+kind of wandering man and his wife.
+
+Amongst the many things attempted in this book is the encouragement
+of charity, and free and genial manners, and the exposure of
+humbug, of which there are various kinds, but of which the most
+perfidious, the most debasing, and the most cruel, is the humbug of
+the Priest.
+
+Yet let no one think that irreligion is advocated in this book.
+With respect to religious tenets I wish to observe that I am a
+member of the Church of England, into whose communion I was
+baptized, and to which my forefathers belonged. Its being the
+religion in which I was baptized, and of my forefathers, would be a
+strong inducement to me to cling to it; for I do not happen to be
+one of those choice spirits 'who turn from their banner when the
+battle bears strongly against it, and go over to the enemy,' and
+who receive at first a hug and a 'viva,' and in the sequel contempt
+and spittle in the face; but my chief reason for belonging to it
+is, because, of all churches calling themselves Christian ones, I
+believe there is none so good, so well founded upon Scripture, or
+whose ministers are, upon the whole, so exemplary in their lives
+and conversation, so well read in the book from which they preach,
+or so versed in general learning, so useful in their immediate
+neighbourhoods, or so unwilling to persecute people of other
+denominations for matters of doctrine.
+
+In the communion of this Church, and with the religious consolation
+of its ministers, I wish and hope to live and die, and in its and
+their defence will at all times be ready, if required, to speak,
+though humbly, and to fight, though feebly, against enemies,
+whether carnal or spiritual.
+
+And is there no priestcraft in the Church of England? There is
+certainly, or rather there was, a modicum of priestcraft in the
+Church of England, but I have generally found that those who are
+most vehement against the Church of England are chiefly
+dissatisfied with her because there is only a modicum of that
+article in her--were she stuffed to the very cupola with it, like a
+certain other Church, they would have much less to say against the
+Church of England.
+
+By the other Church, I mean Rome. Its system was once prevalent in
+England, and, during the period that it prevailed there, was more
+prolific of debasement and crime than all other causes united. The
+people and the government at last becoming enlightened by means of
+the Scripture spurned it from the island with disgust and horror,
+the land instantly after its disappearance becoming a fair field,
+in which arts, sciences, and all the amiable virtues flourished,
+instead of being a pestilent marsh where swine-like ignorance
+wallowed, and artful hypocrites, like so many Wills-o'-the-wisp,
+played antic gambols about, around, and above debased humanity.
+
+But Popery still wished to play her old part, to regain her lost
+dominion, to reconvert the smiling land into the pestilential
+morass, where she could play again her old antics. From the period
+of the Reformation in England up to the present time, she has kept
+her emissaries here, individuals contemptible in intellect, it is
+true, but cat-like and gliding, who, at her bidding, have
+endeavoured, as much as in their power has lain, to damp and stifle
+every genial, honest, loyal, and independent thought, and to reduce
+minds to such a state of dotage as would enable their old Popish
+mother to do what she pleased with them.
+
+And in every country, however enlightened, there are always minds
+inclined to grovelling superstition--minds fond of eating dust and
+swallowing clay--minds never at rest, save when prostrate before
+some fellow in a surplice; and these Popish emissaries found always
+some weak enough to bow down before them, astounded by their
+dreadful denunciations of eternal woe and damnation to any who
+should refuse to believe their Romania; but they played a poor
+game--the law protected the servants of Scripture, and the priest
+with his beads seldom ventured to approach any but the remnant of
+those of the eikonolatry--representatives of worm-eaten houses,
+their debased dependants, and a few poor crazy creatures amongst
+the middle classes--he played a poor game, and the labour was about
+to prove almost entirely in vain, when the English legislature, in
+compassion or contempt, or, yet more probably, influenced by that
+spirit of toleration and kindness which is so mixed up with
+Protestantism, removed almost entirely the disabilities under which
+Popery laboured, and enabled it to raise its head and to speak out
+almost without fear.
+
+And it did raise its head, and, though it spoke with some little
+fear at first, soon discarded every relic of it; went about the
+land uttering its damnation cry, gathering around it--and for doing
+so many thanks to it--the favourers of priestcraft who lurked
+within the walls of the Church of England; frightening with the
+loudness of its voice the weak, the timid, and the ailing;
+perpetrating, whenever it had an opportunity, that species of crime
+to which it has ever been most partial--DEATHBED ROBBERY; for as it
+is cruel, so is it dastardly. Yes, it went on enlisting,
+plundering, and uttering its terrible threats till--till it became,
+as it always does when left to itself, a fool, a very fool. Its
+plunderings might have been overlooked, and so might its insolence,
+had it been common insolence, but it--, and then the roar of
+indignation which arose from outraged England against the viper,
+the frozen viper, which it had permitted to warm itself upon its
+bosom.
+
+But thanks, Popery, you have done all that the friends of
+enlightenment and religious liberty could wish; but if ever there
+were a set of foolish ones to be found under heaven, surely it is
+the priestly rabble who came over from Rome to direct the grand
+movement--so long in its getting up.
+
+But now again the damnation cry is withdrawn, there is a subdued
+meekness in your demeanour, you are now once more harmless as a
+lamb. Well, we shall see how the trick--'the old trick'--will
+serve you.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+
+Birth--My father--Tamerlane--Ben Brain--French Protestants--East
+Anglia--Sorrow and troubles--True peace--A beautiful child--Foreign
+grave--Mirrors--Alpine country--Emblems--Slow of speech--The Jew--
+Strange gestures.
+
+On an evening of July, in the year 18-, at East D-, a beautiful
+little town in a certain district of East Anglia, I first saw the
+light.
+
+My father was a Cornish man, the youngest, as I have heard him say,
+of seven brothers. He sprang from a family of gentlemen, or, as
+some people would call them, gentillatres, for they were not very
+wealthy; they had a coat of arms, however, and lived on their own
+property at a place called Tredinnock, which being interpreted
+means THE HOUSE ON THE HILL, which house and the neighbouring acres
+had been from time immemorial in their possession. I mention these
+particulars that the reader may see at once that I am not
+altogether of low and plebeian origin; the present age is highly
+aristocratic, and I am convinced that the public will read my pages
+with more zest from being told that I am a gentillatre by birth
+with Cornish blood in my veins, of a family who lived on their own
+property at a place bearing a Celtic name, signifying the house on
+the hill, or more strictly the house on the HILLOCK.
+
+My father was what is generally termed a posthumous child--in other
+words, the gentillatre who begot him never had the satisfaction of
+invoking the blessing of the Father of All upon his head; having
+departed this life some months before the birth of his youngest
+son. The boy, therefore, never knew a father's care; he was,
+however, well tended by his mother, whose favourite he was; so much
+so, indeed, that his brethren, the youngest of whom was
+considerably older than himself, were rather jealous of him. I
+never heard, however, that they treated him with any marked
+unkindness, and it will be as well to observe here that I am by no
+means well acquainted with his early history, of which, indeed, as
+I am not writing his life, it is not necessary to say much.
+Shortly after his mother's death, which occurred when he was
+eighteen, he adopted the profession of arms, which he followed
+during the remainder of his life, and in which, had circumstances
+permitted, he would probably have shone amongst the best. By
+nature he was cool and collected, slow to anger, though perfectly
+fearless, patient of control, of great strength; and, to crown all,
+a proper man with his hands.
+
+With far inferior qualifications many a man has become a field-
+marshal or general; similar ones made Tamerlane, who was not a
+gentillatre, but the son of a blacksmith, emperor of one-third of
+the world; but the race is not always for the swift, nor the battle
+for the strong, indeed I ought rather to say very seldom; certain
+it is, that my father, with all his high military qualifications,
+never became emperor, field-marshal, or even general: indeed, he
+had never an opportunity of distinguishing himself save in one
+battle, and that took place neither in Flanders, Egypt, nor on the
+banks of the Indus or Oxus, but in Hyde Park.
+
+Smile not, gentle reader, many a battle has been fought in Hyde
+Park, in which as much skill, science, and bravery have been
+displayed as ever achieved a victory in Flanders or by the Indus.
+In such a combat as that to which I allude, I opine that even
+Wellington or Napoleon would have been heartily glad to cry for
+quarter ere the lapse of five minutes, and even the Blacksmith
+Tartar would, perhaps, have shrunk from the opponent with whom,
+after having had a dispute with him, my father engaged in single
+combat for one hour, at the end of which time the champions shook
+hands and retired, each having experienced quite enough of the
+other's prowess. The name of my father's antagonist was Brain.
+
+What! still a smile? did you never hear that name before? I cannot
+help it! Honour to Brain, who four months after the event which I
+have now narrated was champion of England, having conquered the
+heroic Johnson. Honour to Brain, who, at the end of other four
+months, worn out by the dreadful blows which he had received in his
+manly combats, expired in the arms of my father, who read the Bible
+to him in his latter moments--Big Ben Brain.
+
+You no longer smile, even YOU have heard of Big Ben.
+
+I have already hinted that my father never rose to any very exalted
+rank in his profession, notwithstanding his prowess and other
+qualifications. After serving for many years in the line, he at
+last entered as captain in the militia regiment of the Earl of -,
+at that period just raised, and to which he was sent by the Duke of
+York to instruct the young levies in military manoeuvres and
+discipline; and in this mission I believe he perfectly succeeded,
+competent judges having assured me that the regiment in question
+soon came by his means to be considered as one of the most
+brilliant in the service, and inferior to no regiment of the line
+in appearance or discipline.
+
+As the headquarters of this corps were at D- the duties of my
+father not unfrequently carried him to that place, and it was on
+one of these occasions that he became acquainted with a young
+person of the neighbourhood, for whom he formed an attachment,
+which was returned; and this young person was my mother.
+
+She was descended from a family of French Protestants, natives of
+Caen, who were obliged to leave their native country when old
+Louis, at the instigation of the Pope, thought fit to revoke the
+Edict of Nantes: their name was Petrement, and I have reason for
+believing that they were people of some consideration; that they
+were noble hearts, and good Christians, they gave sufficient proof
+in scorning to bow the knee to the tyranny of Rome. So they left
+beautiful Normandy for their faith's sake, and with a few louis
+d'ors in their purse, a Bible in the vulgar tongue, and a couple of
+old swords, which, if report be true, had done service in the
+Huguenot wars, they crossed the sea to the isle of civil peace and
+religious liberty, and established themselves in East Anglia.
+
+And many other Huguenot families bent their steps thither, and
+devoted themselves to agriculture or the mechanical arts; and in
+the venerable old city, the capital of the province, in the
+northern shadow of the Castle of De Burgh, the exiles built for
+themselves a church where they praised God in the French tongue,
+and to which, at particular seasons of the year, they were in the
+habit of flocking from country and from town to sing -
+
+'Thou hast provided for us a goodly earth; thou waterest her
+furrows, thou sendest rain into the little valleys thereof, thou
+makest it soft with the drops of rain, and blessest the increase of
+it.'
+
+I have been told that in her younger days my mother was strikingly
+handsome; this I can easily believe: I never knew her in her
+youth, for though she was very young when she married my father
+(who was her senior by many years), she had attained the middle age
+before I was born, no children having been vouchsafed to my parents
+in the early stages of their union. Yet even at the present day,
+now that years threescore and ten have passed over her head,
+attended with sorrow and troubles manifold, poorly chequered with
+scanty joys, can I look on that countenance and doubt that at one
+time beauty decked it as with a glorious garment? Hail to thee, my
+parent! as thou sittest there, in thy widow's weeds, in the dusky
+parlour in the house overgrown with the lustrous ivy of the sister
+isle, the solitary house at the end of the retired court shaded by
+lofty poplars. Hail to thee, dame of the oval face, olive
+complexion, and Grecian forehead; by thy table seated with the
+mighty volume of the good Bishop Hopkins spread out before thee;
+there is peace in thy countenance, my mother; it is not worldly
+peace, however, not the deceitful peace which lulls to bewitching
+slumbers, and from which, let us pray, humbly pray, that every
+sinner may be roused in time to implore mercy not in vain! Thine
+is the peace of the righteous, my mother, of those to whom no sin
+can be imputed, the score of whose misdeeds has been long since
+washed away by the blood of atonement, which imputeth righteousness
+to those who trust in it. It was not always thus, my mother; a
+time was, when the cares, pomps, and vanities of this world
+agitated thee too much; but that time is gone by, another and a
+better has succeeded; there is peace now on thy countenance, the
+true peace; peace around thee, too, in thy solitary dwelling,
+sounds of peace, the cheerful hum of the kettle and the purring of
+the immense angola, which stares up at thee from its settle with
+its almost human eyes.
+
+No more earthly cares and affections now, my mother! Yes, one.
+Why dost thou suddenly raise thy dark and still brilliant eye from
+the volume with a somewhat startled glance? What noise is that in
+the distant street? Merely the noise of a hoof; a sound common
+enough: it draws nearer, nearer, and now it stops before thy gate.
+Singular! And now there is a pause, a long pause. Ha! thou
+hearest something--a footstep; a swift but heavy footstep! thou
+risest, thou tremblest, there is a hand on the pin of the outer
+door, there is some one in the vestibule, and now the door of thy
+apartment opens, there is a reflection on the mirror behind thee, a
+travelling hat, a gray head and sunburnt face. My dearest Son!--My
+darling Mother!
+
+Yes, mother, thou didst recognise in the distant street the hoof-
+tramp of the wanderer's horse.
+
+I was not the only child of my parents; I had a brother some three
+years older than myself. He was a beautiful child; one of those
+occasionally seen in England, and in England alone; a rosy, angelic
+face, blue eyes, and light chestnut hair; it was not exactly an
+Anglo-Saxon countenance, in which, by the bye, there is generally a
+cast of loutishness and stupidity; it partook, to a certain extent,
+of the Celtic character, particularly in the fire and vivacity
+which illumined it; his face was the mirror of his mind; perhaps no
+disposition more amiable was ever found amongst the children of
+Adam, united, however, with no inconsiderable portion of high and
+dauntless spirit. So great was his beauty in infancy, that people,
+especially those of the poorer classes, would follow the nurse who
+carried him about in order to look at and bless his lovely face.
+At the age of three months an attempt was made to snatch him from
+his mother's arms in the streets of London, at the moment she was
+about to enter a coach; indeed, his appearance seemed to operate so
+powerfully upon every person who beheld him, that my parents were
+under continual apprehension of losing him; his beauty, however,
+was perhaps surpassed by the quickness of his parts. He mastered
+his letters in a few hours, and in a day or two could decipher the
+names of people on the doors of houses and over the shop-windows.
+
+As he grew up, his personal appearance became less prepossessing,
+his quickness and cleverness, however, rather increased; and I may
+say of him, that with respect to everything which he took in hand
+he did it better and more speedily than any other person. Perhaps
+it will be asked here, what became of him? Alas! alas! his was an
+early and a foreign grave. As I have said before, the race is not
+always for the swift, nor the battle for the strong.
+
+And now, doubtless, after the above portrait of my brother, painted
+in the very best style of Rubens, the reader will conceive himself
+justified in expecting a full-length one of myself, as a child, for
+as to my present appearance, I suppose he will be tolerably content
+with that flitting glimpse in the mirror. But he must excuse me; I
+have no intention of drawing a portrait of myself in childhood;
+indeed it would be difficult, for at that time I never looked into
+mirrors. No attempts, however, were ever made to steal me in my
+infancy, and I never heard that my parents entertained the
+slightest apprehension of losing me by the hands of kidnappers,
+though I remember perfectly well that people were in the habit of
+standing still to look at me, ay, more than at my brother; from
+which premisses the reader may form any conclusion with respect to
+my appearance which seemeth good unto him and reasonable. Should
+he, being a good-natured person, and always inclined to adopt the
+charitable side in any doubtful point, be willing to suppose that
+I, too, was eminently endowed by nature with personal graces, I
+tell him frankly that I have no objection whatever to his
+entertaining that idea; moreover, that I heartily thank him, and
+shall at all times be disposed, under similar circumstances, to
+exercise the same species of charity towards himself.
+
+With respect to my mind and its qualities I shall be more explicit;
+for, were I to maintain much reserve on this point, many things
+which appear in these memoirs would be highly mysterious to the
+reader, indeed incomprehensible. Perhaps no two individuals were
+ever more unlike in mind and disposition than my brother and
+myself: as light is opposed to darkness, so was that happy,
+brilliant, cheerful child to the sad and melancholy being who
+sprang from the same stock as himself, and was nurtured by the same
+milk.
+
+Once, when travelling in an Alpine country, I arrived at a
+considerable elevation; I saw in the distance, far below, a
+beautiful stream hastening to the ocean, its rapid waters here
+sparkling in the sunshine, and there tumbling merrily in cascades.
+On its banks were vineyards and cheerful villages; close to where I
+stood, in a granite basin with steep and precipitous sides,
+slumbered a deep, dark lagoon, shaded by black pines, cypresses,
+and yews. It was a wild, savage spot, strange and singular; ravens
+hovered above the pines, filling the air with their uncouth notes,
+pies chattered, and I heard the cry of an eagle from a neighbouring
+peak; there lay the lake, the dark, solitary, and almost
+inaccessible lake; gloomy shadows were upon it, which, strangely
+modified, as gusts of wind agitated the surface, occasionally
+assumed the shape of monsters. So I stood on the Alpine elevation,
+and looked now on the gay distant river, and now at the dark
+granite-encircled lake close beside me in the lone solitude, and I
+thought of my brother and myself. I am no moraliser; but the gay
+and rapid river, and the dark and silent lake, were, of a verity,
+no had emblems of us two.
+
+So far from being quick and clever like my brother, and able to
+rival the literary feat which I have recorded of him, many years
+elapsed before I was able to understand the nature of letters, or
+to connect them. A lover of nooks and retired corners, I was as a
+child in the habit of fleeing from society, and of sitting for
+hours together with my head on my breast. What I was thinking
+about, it would be difficult to say at this distance of time; I
+remember perfectly well, however, being ever conscious of a
+peculiar heaviness within me, and at times of a strange sensation
+of fear, which occasionally amounted to horror, and for which I
+could assign no real cause whatever.
+
+By nature slow of speech, I took no pleasure in conversation, nor
+in hearing the voices of my fellow-creatures. When people
+addressed me, I not unfrequently, especially if they were
+strangers, turned away my head from them, and if they persisted in
+their notice burst into tears, which singularity of behaviour by no
+means tended to dispose people in my favour. I was as much
+disliked as my brother was deservedly beloved and admired. My
+parents, it is true, were always kind to me; and my brother, who
+was good nature itself, was continually lavishing upon me every
+mark of affection.
+
+There was, however, one individual who, in the days of my
+childhood, was disposed to form a favourable opinion of me. One
+day, a Jew--I have quite forgotten the circumstance, but I was long
+subsequently informed of it--one day a travelling Jew knocked at
+the door of a farmhouse in which we had taken apartments; I was
+near at hand sitting in the bright sunshine, drawing strange lines
+on the dust with my fingers, an ape and dog were my companions; the
+Jew looked at me and asked me some questions, to which, though I
+was quite able to speak, I returned no answer. On the door being
+opened, the Jew, after a few words, probably relating to pedlery,
+demanded who the child was, sitting in the sun; the maid replied
+that I was her mistress's youngest son, a child weak HERE, pointing
+to her forehead. The Jew looked at me again, and then said: ''Pon
+my conscience, my dear, I believe that you must be troubled there
+yourself to tell me any such thing. It is not my habit to speak to
+children, inasmuch as I hate them, because they often follow me and
+fling stones after me; but I no sooner looked at that child than I
+was forced to speak to it--his not answering me shows his sense,
+for it has never been the custom of the wise to fling away their
+words in indifferent talk and conversation; the child is a sweet
+child, and has all the look of one of our people's children. Fool,
+indeed! did I not see his eyes sparkle just now when the monkey
+seized the dog by the ear?--they shone like my own diamonds--does
+your good lady want any--real and fine? Were it not for what you
+tell me, I should say it was a prophet's child. Fool, indeed! he
+can write already, or I'll forfeit the box which I carry on my
+back, and for which I should be loth to take two hundred pounds!'
+He then leaned forward to inspect the lines which I had traced.
+All of a sudden he started back, and grew white as a sheet; then,
+taking off his hat, he made some strange gestures to me, cringing,
+chattering, and showing his teeth, and shortly departed, muttering
+something about 'holy letters,' and talking to himself in a strange
+tongue. The words of the Jew were in due course of time reported
+to my mother, who treasured them in her heart, and from that moment
+began to entertain brighter hopes of her youngest born than she had
+ever before ventured to foster.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+
+Barracks and lodgings--A camp--The viper--A delicate child--
+Blackberry time--Meun and tuum--Hythe--The Golgotha--Daneman's
+skull--Superhuman stature--Stirring times--The sea-bord.
+
+I have been a wanderer the greater part of my life; indeed I
+remember only two periods, and these by no means lengthy, when I
+was, strictly speaking, stationary. I was a soldier's son, and as
+the means of my father were by no means sufficient to support two
+establishments, his family invariably attended him wherever he
+went, so that from my infancy I was accustomed to travelling and
+wandering, and looked upon a monthly change of scene and residence
+as a matter of course. Sometimes we lived in barracks, sometimes
+in lodgings, but generally in the former, always eschewing the
+latter from motives of economy, save when the barracks were
+inconvenient and uncomfortable; and they must have been highly so
+indeed, to have discouraged us from entering them; for though we
+were gentry (pray bear that in mind, gentle reader), gentry by
+birth, and incontestably so by my father's bearing the commission
+of good old George the Third, we were not FINE GENTRY, but people
+who could put up with as much as any genteel Scotch family who find
+it convenient to live on a third floor in London, or on a sixth at
+Edinburgh or Glasgow. It was not a little that could discourage
+us: we once lived within the canvas walls of a camp, at a place
+called Pett, in Sussex; and I believe it was at this place that
+occurred the first circumstance, or adventure, call it which you
+will, that I can remember in connection with myself: it was a
+strange one, and I will relate it.
+
+It happened that my brother and myself were playing one evening in
+a sandy lane, in the neighbourhood of this Pett camp; our mother
+was at a slight distance. All of a sudden, a bright yellow, and,
+to my infantine eye, beautiful and glorious, object made its
+appearance at the top of the bank from between the thick quickset,
+and, gliding down, began to move across the lane to the other side,
+like a line of golden light. Uttering a cry of pleasure, I sprang
+forward, and seized it nearly by the middle. A strange sensation
+of numbing coldness seemed to pervade my whole arm, which surprised
+me the more, as the object to the eye appeared so warm and sunlike.
+I did not drop it, however, but, holding it up, looked at it
+intently, as its head dangled about a foot from my hand. It made
+no resistance; I felt not even the slightest struggle; but now my
+brother began to scream and shriek like one possessed. 'O mother,
+mother!' said he, 'the viper!--my brother has a viper in his hand!'
+He then, like one frantic, made an effort to snatch the creature
+away from me. The viper now hissed amain, and raised its head, in
+which were eyes like hot coals, menacing, not myself, but my
+brother. I dropped my captive, for I saw my mother running towards
+me; and the reptile, after standing for a moment nearly erect, and
+still hissing furiously, made off, and disappeared. The whole
+scene is now before me, as vividly as if it occurred yesterday--the
+gorgeous viper, my poor dear frantic brother, my agitated parent,
+and a frightened hen clucking under the bushes--and yet I was not
+three years old.
+
+It is my firm belief that certain individuals possess an inherent
+power, or fascination, over certain creatures, otherwise I should
+be unable to account for many feats which I have witnessed, and,
+indeed, borne a share in, connected with the taming of brutes and
+reptiles. I have known a savage and vicious mare, whose stall it
+was dangerous to approach, even when bearing provender, welcome,
+nevertheless, with every appearance of pleasure, an uncouth, wiry-
+headed man, with a frightfully seamed face, and an iron hook
+supplying the place of his right hand, one whom the animal had
+never seen before, playfully bite his hair, and cover his face with
+gentle and endearing kisses; and I have already stated how a viper
+would permit, without resentment, one child to take it up in his
+hand, whilst it showed its dislike to the approach of another by
+the fiercest hissings. Philosophy can explain many strange things,
+but there are some which are a far pitch above her, and this is
+one.
+
+I should scarcely relate another circumstance which occurred about
+this time but for a singular effect which it produced upon my
+constitution. Up to this period I had been rather a delicate
+child; whereas, almost immediately after the occurrence to which I
+allude, I became both hale and vigorous, to the great astonishment
+of my parents, who naturally enough expected that it would produce
+quite a contrary effect.
+
+It happened that my brother and myself were disporting ourselves in
+certain fields near the good town of Canterbury. A female servant
+had attended us, in order to take care that we came to no mischief:
+she, however, it seems, had matters of her own to attend to, and,
+allowing us to go where we listed, remained in one corner of a
+field, in earnest conversation with a red-coated dragoon. Now it
+chanced to be blackberry time, and the two children wandered under
+the hedges, peering anxiously among them in quest of that trash so
+grateful to urchins of their degree. We did not find much of it,
+however, and were soon separated in the pursuit. All at once I
+stood still, and could scarcely believe my eyes. I had come to a
+spot where, almost covering the hedge, hung clusters of what seemed
+fruit--deliciously-tempting fruit--something resembling grapes of
+various colours, green, red, and purple. Dear me, thought I, how
+fortunate! yet have I a right to gather it? is it mine? for the
+observance of the law of meum and tuum had early been impressed
+upon my mind, and I entertained, even at that tender age, the
+utmost horror for theft; so I stood staring at the variegated
+clusters, in doubt as to what I should do. I know not how I argued
+the matter in my mind; the temptation, however, was at last too
+strong for me, so I stretched forth my hand and ate. I remember,
+perfectly well, that the taste of this strange fruit was by no
+means so pleasant as the appearance; but the idea of eating fruit
+was sufficient for a child, and, after all, the flavour was much
+superior to that of sour apples, so I ate voraciously. How long I
+continued eating I scarcely know. One thing is certain, that I
+never left the field as I entered it, being carried home in the
+arms of the dragoon in strong convulsions, in which I continued for
+several hours. About midnight I awoke, as if from a troubled
+sleep, and beheld my parents bending over my couch, whilst the
+regimental surgeon, with a candle in his hand, stood nigh, the
+light feebly reflected on the whitewashed walls of the barrack-
+room.
+
+Another circumstance connected with my infancy, and I have done. I
+need offer no apology for relating it, as it subsequently exercised
+considerable influence over my pursuits. We were, if I remember
+right, in the vicinity of a place called Hythe, in Kent. One sweet
+evening, in the latter part of summer, our mother took her two
+little boys by the hand, for a wander about the fields. In the
+course of our stroll we came to the village church; an old, gray-
+headed sexton stood in the porch, who, perceiving that we were
+strangers, invited us to enter. We were presently in the interior,
+wandering about the aisles, looking on the walls, and inspecting
+the monuments of the notable dead. I can scarcely state what we
+saw; how should I? I was a child not yet four years old, and yet I
+think I remember the evening sun streaming in through a stained
+window upon the dingy mahogany pulpit, and flinging a rich lustre
+upon the faded tints of an ancient banner. And now once more we
+were outside the building, where, against the wall, stood a low-
+eaved pent-house, into which we looked. It was half filled with
+substances of some kind, which at first looked like large gray
+stones. The greater part were lying in layers; some, however, were
+seen in confused and mouldering heaps, and two or three, which had
+perhaps rolled down from the rest, lay separately on the floor.
+'Skulls, madam,' said the sexton; 'skulls of the old Danes! Long
+ago they came pirating into these parts; and then there chanced a
+mighty shipwreck, for God was angry with them, and He sunk them;
+and their skulls, as they came ashore, were placed here as a
+memorial. There were many more when I was young, but now they are
+fast disappearing. Some of them must have belonged to strange
+fellows, madam. Only see that one; why, the two young gentry can
+scarcely lift it!' And, indeed, my brother and myself had entered
+the Golgotha, and commenced handling these grim relics of
+mortality. One enormous skull, lying in a corner, had fixed our
+attention, and we had drawn it forth. Spirit of eld, what a skull
+was yon!
+
+I still seem to see it, the huge grim thing; many of the others
+were large, strikingly so, and appeared fully to justify the old
+man's conclusion that their owners must have been strange fellows;
+but, compared with this mighty mass of bone, they looked small and
+diminutive like those of pigmies; it must have belonged to a giant,
+one of those red-haired warriors of whose strength and stature such
+wondrous tales are told in the ancient chronicles of the north, and
+whose grave-hills, when ransacked, occasionally reveal secrets
+which fill the minds of puny moderns with astonishment and awe.
+Reader, have you ever pored days and nights over the pages of
+Snorro?--probably not, for he wrote in a language which few of the
+present day understand, and few would be tempted to read him tamed
+down by Latin dragomans. A brave old book is that of Snorro,
+containing the histories and adventures of old northern kings and
+champions, who seemed to have been quite different men, if we may
+judge from the feats which they performed, from those of these
+days; one of the best of his histories is that which describes the
+life of Harald Haardraade, who, after manifold adventures by land
+and sea, now a pirate, now a mercenary of the Greek emperor, became
+king of Norway, and eventually perished at the battle of Stamford
+Bridge, whilst engaged in a gallant onslaught upon England. Now, I
+have often thought that the old Kemp, whose mouldering skull in the
+Golgotha of Hythe my brother and myself could scarcely lift, must
+have resembled in one respect at least this Harald, whom Snorro
+describes as a great and wise ruler and a determined leader,
+dangerous in battle, of fair presence and measuring in height just
+FIVE ELLS, neither more nor less.
+
+I never forgot the Daneman's skull; like the apparition of the
+viper in the sandy lane, it dwelt in the mind of the boy, affording
+copious food for the exercise of imagination. From that moment
+with the name of Dane were associated strange ideas of strength,
+daring, and superhuman stature; and an undefinable curiosity for
+all that is connected with the Danish race began to pervade me; and
+if, long after, when I became a student I devoted myself with
+peculiar zest to Danish lore and the acquirement of the old Norse
+tongue and its dialects, I can only explain the matter by the early
+impression received at Hythe from the tale of the old sexton,
+beneath the pent-house, and the sight of the Danish skull.
+
+And thus we went on straying from place to place, at Hythe to-day,
+and perhaps within a week looking out from our hostel-window upon
+the streets of old Winchester, our motions ever in accordance with
+the 'route' of the regiment, so habituated to change of scene that
+it had become almost necessary to our existence. Pleasant were
+these days of my early boyhood; and a melancholy pleasure steals
+over me as I recall them. Those were stirring times of which I am
+speaking, and there was much passing around me calculated to
+captivate the imagination. The dreadful struggle which so long
+convulsed Europe, and in which England bore so prominent a part,
+was then at its hottest; we were at war, and determination and
+enthusiasm shone in every face; man, woman, and child were eager to
+fight the Frank, the hereditary, but, thank God, never dreaded
+enemy of the Anglo-Saxon race. 'Love your country and beat the
+French, and then never mind what happens,' was the cry of entire
+England. Oh, those were days of power, gallant days, bustling
+days, worth the bravest days of chivalry at least; tall battalions
+of native warriors were marching through the land; there was the
+glitter of the bayonet and the gleam of the sabre; the shrill
+squeak of the fife and loud rattling of the drum were heard in the
+streets of country towns, and the loyal shouts of the inhabitants
+greeted the soldiery on their arrival, or cheered them at their
+departure. And now let us leave the upland, and descend to the
+sea-bord; there is a sight for you upon the billows! A dozen men-
+of-war are gliding majestically out of port, their long buntings
+streaming from the top-gallant masts, calling on the skulking
+Frenchman to come forth from his bights and bays; and what looms
+upon us yonder from the fog-bank in the east? a gallant frigate
+towing behind her the long low hull of a crippled privateer, which
+but three short days ago had left Dieppe to skim the sea, and whose
+crew of ferocious hearts are now cursing their imprudence in an
+English hold. Stirring times those, which I love to recall, for
+they were days of gallantry and enthusiasm, and were moreover the
+days of my boyhood.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+
+Pretty D---The venerable church--The stricken heart--Dormant
+energies--The small packet--Nerves--The books--A picture--Mountain-
+like billows--The footprint--Spirit of De Foe--Reasoning powers--
+Terrors of God--Heads of the dragons--High-Church clerk--A journey-
+-The drowned country.
+
+And when I was between six and seven years of age we were once more
+at D-, the place of my birth, whither my father had been despatched
+on the recruiting service. I have already said that it was a
+beautiful little town--at least it was at the time of which I am
+speaking--what it is at present I know not, for thirty years and
+more have elapsed since I last trod its streets. It will scarcely
+have improved, for how could it be better than it then was? I love
+to think on thee, pretty quiet D-, thou pattern of an English
+country town, with thy clean but narrow streets branching out from
+thy modest market-place, with thine old-fashioned houses, with here
+and there a roof of venerable thatch, with thy one half-
+aristocratic mansion, where resided thy Lady Bountiful--she, the
+generous and kind, who loved to visit the sick, leaning on her
+gold-headed cane, whilst the sleek old footman walked at a
+respectful distance behind. Pretty quiet D-, with thy venerable
+church, in which moulder the mortal remains of England's sweetest
+and most pious bard.
+
+Yes, pretty D-, I could always love thee, were it but for the sake
+of him who sleeps beneath the marble slab in yonder quiet chancel.
+It was within thee that the long-oppressed bosom heaved its last
+sigh, and the crushed and gentle spirit escaped from a world in
+which it had known nought but sorrow. Sorrow! do I say? How faint
+a word to express the misery of that bruised reed; misery so dark
+that a blind worm like myself is occasionally tempted to exclaim,
+Better had the world never been created than that one so kind, so
+harmless, and so mild, should have undergone such intolerable woe!
+But it is over now, for, as there is an end of joy, so has
+affliction its termination. Doubtless the All-wise did not afflict
+him without a cause: who knows but within that unhappy frame
+lurked vicious seeds which the sunbeams of joy and prosperity might
+have called into life and vigour? Perhaps the withering blasts of
+misery nipped that which otherwise might have terminated in fruit
+noxious and lamentable. But peace to the unhappy one, he is gone
+to his rest; the death-like face is no longer occasionally seen
+timidly and mournfully looking for a moment through the window-pane
+upon thy market-place, quiet and pretty D-; the hind in thy
+neighbourhood no longer at evening-fall views, and starts as he
+views, the dark lathy figure moving beneath the hazels and alders
+of shadowy lanes, or by the side of murmuring trout streams, and no
+longer at early dawn does the sexton of the old church reverently
+doff his hat, as, supported by some kind friend, the death-stricken
+creature totters along the church-path to that mouldering edifice
+with the low roof, inclosing a spring of sanatory waters, built and
+devoted to some saint, if the legend over the door be true, by the
+daughter of an East Anglian king.
+
+But to return to my own history. I had now attained the age of
+six: shall I state what intellectual progress I had been making up
+to this period? Alas! upon this point I have little to say
+calculated to afford either pleasure or edification; I had
+increased rapidly in size and in strength: the growth of the mind,
+however, had by no means corresponded with that of the body. It is
+true, I had acquired my letters, and was by this time able to read
+imperfectly; but this was all: and even this poor triumph over
+absolute ignorance would never have been effected but for the
+unremitting attention of my parents, who, sometimes by threats,
+sometimes by entreaties, endeavoured to rouse the dormant energies
+of my nature, and to bend my wishes to the acquisition of the
+rudiments of knowledge; but in influencing the wish lay the
+difficulty. Let but the will of a human being be turned to any
+particular object, and it is ten to one that sooner or later he
+achieves it. At this time I may safely say that I harboured
+neither wishes nor hopes; I had as yet seen no object calculated to
+call them forth, and yet I took pleasure in many things which
+perhaps unfortunately were all within my sphere of enjoyment. I
+loved to look upon the heavens, and to bask in the rays of the sun,
+or to sit beneath hedgerows and listen to the chirping of the
+birds, indulging the while in musing and meditation as far as my
+very limited circle of ideas would permit; but, unlike my brother,
+who was at this time at school, and whose rapid progress in every
+branch of instruction astonished and delighted his preceptors, I
+took no pleasure in books, whose use, indeed, I could scarcely
+comprehend, and bade fair to be as arrant a dunce as ever brought
+the blush of shame into the cheeks of anxious and affectionate
+parents.
+
+But the time was now at hand when the ice which had hitherto bound
+the mind of the child with its benumbing power was to be thawed,
+and a world of sensations and ideas awakened to which it had
+hitherto been an entire stranger. One day a young lady, an
+intimate acquaintance of our family, and godmother to my brother,
+drove up to the house in which we dwelt; she stayed some time
+conversing with my mother, and on rising to depart, she put down on
+the table a small packet, exclaiming, 'I have brought a little
+present for each of the boys: the one is a History of England,
+which I intend for my godson when he returns from school, the other
+is . . .'--and here she said something which escaped my ear, as I
+sat at some distance, moping in a corner,--'I intend it for the
+youngster yonder,' pointing to myself; she then departed, and, my
+mother going out shortly after, I was left alone.
+
+I remember for some time sitting motionless in my corner, with my
+eyes bent upon the ground; at last I lifted my head and looked upon
+the packet as it lay on the table. All at once a strange sensation
+came over me, such as I had never experienced before--a singular
+blending of curiosity, awe, and pleasure, the remembrance of which,
+even at this distance of time, produces a remarkable effect upon my
+nervous system. What strange things are the nerves--I mean those
+more secret and mysterious ones in which I have some notion that
+the mind or soul, call it which you will, has its habitation; how
+they occasionally tingle and vibrate before any coming event
+closely connected with the future weal or woe of the human being.
+Such a feeling was now within me, certainly independent of what the
+eye had seen or the ear had heard. A book of some description had
+been brought for me, a present by no means calculated to interest
+me; what cared I for books? I had already many into which I never
+looked but from compulsion; friends, moreover, had presented me
+with similar things before, which I had entirely disregarded, and
+what was there in this particular book, whose very title I did not
+know, calculated to attract me more than the rest? yet something
+within told me that my fate was connected with the book which had
+been last brought; so, after looking on the packet from my corner
+for a considerable time, I got up and went to the table.
+
+The packet was lying where it had been left--I took it up; had the
+envelope, which consisted of whitish brown paper, been secured by a
+string or a seal, I should not have opened it, as I should have
+considered such an act almost in the light of a crime; the books,
+however, had been merely folded up, and I therefore considered that
+there could be no possible harm in inspecting them, more especially
+as I had received no injunction to the contrary. Perhaps there was
+something unsound in this reasoning, something sophistical; but a
+child is sometimes as ready as a grown-up person in finding excuses
+for doing that which he is inclined to. But whether the action was
+right or wrong, and I am afraid it was not altogether right, I
+undid the packet: it contained three books; two from their
+similarity seemed to be separate parts of one and the same work;
+they were handsomely bound, and to them I first turned my
+attention. I opened them successively, and endeavoured to make out
+their meaning; their contents, however, as far as I was able to
+understand them, were by no means interesting: whoever pleases may
+read these books for me, and keep them, too, into the bargain, said
+I to myself.
+
+I now took up the third book: it did not resemble the others,
+being longer and considerably thicker; the binding was of dingy
+calf-skin. I opened it, and as I did so another strange thrill of
+pleasure shot through my frame. The first object on which my eyes
+rested was a picture; it was exceedingly well executed, at least
+the scene which it represented made a vivid impression upon me,
+which would hardly have been the case had the artist not been
+faithful to nature. A wild scene it was--a heavy sea and rocky
+shore, with mountains in the background, above which the moon was
+peering. Not far from the shore, upon the water, was a boat with
+two figures in it, one of which stood at the bow, pointing with
+what I knew to be a gun at a dreadful shape in the water; fire was
+flashing from the muzzle of the gun, and the monster appeared to be
+transfixed. I almost thought I heard its cry. I remained
+motionless, gazing upon the picture, scarcely daring to draw my
+breath, lest the new and wondrous world should vanish of which I
+had now obtained a glimpse. 'Who are those people, and what could
+have brought them into that strange situation?' I asked of myself;
+and now the seed of curiosity, which had so long lain dormant,
+began to expand, and I vowed to myself to become speedily
+acquainted with the whole history of the people in the boat. After
+looking on the picture till every mark and line in it were familiar
+to me, I turned over various leaves till I came to another
+engraving; a new source of wonder--a low sandy beach on which the
+furious sea was breaking in mountain-like billows; cloud and rack
+deformed the firmament, which wore a dull and leaden-like hue;
+gulls and other aquatic fowls were toppling upon the blast, or
+skimming over the tops of the maddening waves--'Mercy upon him! he
+must be drowned!' I exclaimed, as my eyes fell upon a poor wretch
+who appeared to be striving to reach the shore; he was upon his
+legs, but was evidently half smothered with the brine; high above
+his head curled a horrible billow, as if to engulf him for ever.
+'He must be drowned! he must be drowned!' I almost shrieked, and
+dropped the book. I soon snatched it up again, and now my eye
+lighted on a third picture: again a shore, but what a sweet and
+lovely one, and how I wished to be treading it; there were
+beautiful shells lying on the smooth white sand, some were empty
+like those I had occasionally seen on marble mantelpieces, but out
+of others peered the heads and bodies of wondrous crayfish, a wood
+of thick green trees skirted the beach and partly shaded it from
+the rays of the sun, which shone hot above, while blue waves
+slightly crested with foam were gently curling against it; there
+was a human figure upon the beach, wild and uncouth, clad in the
+skins of animals, with a huge cap on his head, a hatchet at his
+girdle, and in his hand a gun; his feet and legs were bare; he
+stood in an attitude of horror and surprise; his body was bent far
+back, and his eyes, which seemed starting out of his head, were
+fixed upon a mark on the sand--a large distinct mark--a human
+footprint. . . .
+
+Reader, is it necessary to name the book which now stood open in my
+hand, and whose very prints, feeble expounders of its wondrous
+lines, had produced within me emotions strange and novel?
+Scarcely--for it was a book which has exerted over the minds of
+Englishmen an influence certainly greater than any other of modern
+times--which has been in most people's hands, and with the contents
+of which even those who cannot read are to a certain extent
+acquainted--a book from which the most luxuriant and fertile of our
+modern prose writers have drunk inspiration--a book, moreover, to
+which, from the hardy deeds which it narrates, and the spirit of
+strange and romantic enterprise which it tends to awaken, England
+owes many of her astonishing discoveries both by sea and land, and
+no inconsiderable part of her naval glory.
+
+Hail to thee, spirit of De Foe! What does not my own poor self owe
+to thee? England has better bards than either Greece or Rome, yet
+I could spare them easier far than De Foe, 'unabashed De Foe,' as
+the hunchbacked rhymer styled him.
+
+The true chord had now been touched; a raging curiosity with
+respect to the contents of the volume, whose engravings had
+fascinated my eye, burned within me, and I never rested until I had
+fully satisfied it; weeks succeeded weeks, months followed months,
+and the wondrous volume was my only study and principal source of
+amusement. For hours together I would sit poring over a page till
+I had become acquainted with the import of every line. My
+progress, slow enough at first, became by degrees more rapid, till
+at last, under 'a shoulder of mutton sail,' I found myself
+cantering before a steady breeze over an ocean of enchantment, so
+well pleased with my voyage that I cared not how long it might be
+ere it reached its termination.
+
+And it was in this manner that I first took to the paths of
+knowledge.
+
+About this time I began to be somewhat impressed with religious
+feelings. My parents were, to a certain extent, religious people;
+but, though they had done their best to afford me instruction on
+religious points, I had either paid no attention to what they
+endeavoured to communicate, or had listened with an ear far too
+obtuse to derive any benefit. But my mind had now become awakened
+from the drowsy torpor in which it had lain so long, and the
+reasoning powers which I possessed were no longer inactive.
+Hitherto I had entertained no conception whatever of the nature and
+properties of God, and with the most perfect indifference had heard
+the divine name proceeding from the mouths of people--frequently,
+alas! on occasions when it ought not to be employed; but I now
+never heard it without a tremor, for I now knew that God was an
+awful and inscrutable Being, the Maker of all things; that we were
+His children, and that we, by our sins, had justly offended Him;
+that we were in very great peril from His anger, not so much in
+this life as in another and far stranger state of being yet to
+come; that we had a Saviour withal to whom it was necessary to look
+for help: upon this point, however, I was yet very much in the
+dark, as, indeed, were most of those with whom I was connected.
+The power and terrors of God were uppermost in my thoughts; they
+fascinated though they astounded me. Twice every Sunday I was
+regularly taken to the church, where, from a corner of the large
+spacious pew, lined with black leather, I would fix my eyes on the
+dignified High-Church rector, and the dignified High-Church clerk,
+and watch the movement of their lips, from which, as they read
+their respective portions of the venerable liturgy, would roll many
+a portentous word descriptive of the wondrous works of the Most
+High.
+
+Rector. Thou didst divide the sea, through thy power: thou
+brakest the heads of the dragons in the waters.
+
+Philoh. Thou smotest the heads of Leviathan in pieces: and gavest
+him to be meat for the people in the wilderness.
+
+Rector. Thou broughtest out fountains, and waters out of the hard
+rocks: thou driedst up mighty waters.
+
+Philoh. The day is thine, and the night is thine: thou hast
+prepared the light and the sun.
+
+Peace to your memories, dignified rector, and yet more dignified
+clerk!--by this time ye are probably gone to your long homes, and
+your voices are no longer heard sounding down the aisles of the
+venerable church--nay, doubtless, this has already long since been
+the fate of him of the sonorous 'Amen!'--the one of the two who,
+with all due respect to the rector, principally engrossed my boyish
+admiration--he, at least, is scarcely now among the living! Living!
+why, I have heard say that he blew a fife--for he was a musical as
+well as a Christian professor--a bold fife, to cheer the Guards and
+the brave Marines, as they marched with measured step, obeying an
+insane command, up Bunker's height, whilst the rifles of the sturdy
+Yankees were sending the leaden hail sharp and thick amidst the
+red-coated ranks; for Philoh had not always been a man of peace,
+nor an exhorter to turn the other cheek to the smiter, but had even
+arrived at the dignity of a halberd in his country's service before
+his six-foot form required rest, and the gray-haired veteran
+retired, after a long peregrination, to his native town, to enjoy
+ease and respectability on a pension of 'eighteenpence a day'; and
+well did his fellow-townsmen act, when, to increase that ease and
+respectability, and with a thoughtful regard for the dignity of the
+good church service, they made him clerk and precentor--the man of
+the tall form and of the audible voice, which sounded loud and
+clear as his own Bunker fife. Well, peace to thee, thou fine old
+chap, despiser of dissenters, and hater of papists, as became a
+dignified and High-Church clerk; if thou art in thy grave, the
+better for thee; thou wert fitted to adorn a bygone time, when
+loyalty was in vogue, and smiling content lay like a sunbeam upon
+the land, but thou wouldst be sadly out of place in these days of
+cold philosophic latitudinarian doctrine, universal tolerism, and
+half-concealed rebellion--rare times, no doubt, for papists and
+dissenters, but which would assuredly have broken the heart of the
+loyal soldier of George the Third, and the dignified High-Church
+clerk of pretty D-.
+
+We passed many months at this place: nothing, however, occurred
+requiring any particular notice, relating to myself, beyond what I
+have already stated, and I am not writing the history of others.
+At length my father was recalled to his regiment, which at that
+time was stationed at a place called Norman Cross, in Lincolnshire,
+or rather Huntingdonshire, at some distance from the old town of
+Peterborough. For this place he departed, leaving my mother and
+myself to follow in a few days. Our journey was a singular one.
+On the second day we reached a marshy and fenny country, which,
+owing to immense quantities of rain which had lately fallen, was
+completely submerged. At a large town we got on board a kind of
+passage-boat, crowded with people; it had neither sails nor oars,
+and those were not the days of steam-vessels; it was a treck-
+schuyt, and was drawn by horses. Young as I was, there was much
+connected with this journey which highly surprised me, and which
+brought to my remembrance particular scenes described in the book
+which I now generally carried in my bosom. The country was, as I
+have already said, submerged--entirely drowned--no land was
+visible; the trees were growing bolt upright in the flood, whilst
+farmhouses and cottages were standing insulated; the horses which
+drew us were up to the knees in water, and, on coming to blind
+pools and 'greedy depths,' were not unfrequently swimming, in which
+case, the boys or urchins who mounted them sometimes stood,
+sometimes knelt, upon the saddle and pillions. No accident,
+however, occurred either to the quadrupeds or bipeds, who appeared
+respectively to be quite au fait in their business, and extricated
+themselves with the greatest ease from places in which Pharaoh and
+all his host would have gone to the bottom. Nightfall brought us
+to Peterborough, and from thence we were not slow in reaching the
+place of our destination.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+
+Norman Cross--Wide expanse--Vive l'Empereur--Unpruned woods--Man
+with the bag--Froth and conceit--I beg your pardon--Growing timid--
+About three o'clock--Taking one's ease--Cheek on the ground--King
+of the vipers--French king--Frenchmen and water.
+
+And a strange place it was, this Norman Cross, and, at the time of
+which I am speaking, a sad cross to many a Norman, being what was
+then styled a French prison, that is, a receptacle for captives
+made in the French war. It consisted, if I remember right, of some
+five or six casernes, very long, and immensely high; each standing
+isolated from the rest, upon a spot of ground which might average
+ten acres, and which was fenced round with lofty palisades, the
+whole being compassed about by a towering wall, beneath which, at
+intervals, on both sides, sentinels were stationed, whilst outside,
+upon the field, stood commodious wooden barracks, capable of
+containing two regiments of infantry, intended to serve as guards
+upon the captives. Such was the station or prison at Norman Cross,
+where some six thousand French and other foreigners, followers of
+the grand Corsican, were now immured.
+
+What a strange appearance had those mighty casernes, with their
+blank blind walls, without windows or grating, and their slanting
+roofs, out of which, through orifices where the tiles had been
+removed, would be protruded dozens of grim heads, feasting their
+prison-sick eyes on the wide expanse of country unfolded from that
+airy height. Ah! there was much misery in those casernes; and from
+those roofs, doubtless, many a wistful look was turned in the
+direction of lovely France. Much had the poor inmates to endure,
+and much to complain of, to the disgrace of England be it said--of
+England, in general so kind and bountiful. Rations of carrion
+meat, and bread from which I have seen the very hounds occasionally
+turn away, were unworthy entertainment even for the most ruffian
+enemy, when helpless and a captive; and such, alas! was the fare in
+those casernes. And then, those visits, or rather ruthless
+inroads, called in the slang of the place 'strawplait-hunts,' when
+in pursuit of a contraband article, which the prisoners, in order
+to procure themselves a few of the necessaries and comforts of
+existence, were in the habit of making, red-coated battalions were
+marched into the prisons, who, with the bayonet's point, carried
+havoc and ruin into every poor convenience which ingenious
+wretchedness had been endeavouring to raise around it; and then the
+triumphant exit with the miserable booty; and, worst of all, the
+accursed bonfire, on the barrack parade, of the plait contraband,
+beneath the view of the glaring eyeballs from those lofty roofs,
+amidst the hurrahs of the troops, frequently drowned in the curses
+poured down from above like a tempest-shower or in the terrific
+warw-hoop of 'Vive l'Empereur!'
+
+It was midsummer when we arrived at this place, and the weather,
+which had for a long time been wet and gloomy, now became bright
+and glorious; I was subjected to but little control, and passed my
+time pleasantly enough, principally in wandering about the
+neighbouring country. It was flat and somewhat fenny, a district
+more of pasture than agriculture, and not very thickly inhabited.
+I soon became well acquainted with it. At the distance of two
+miles from the station was a large lake, styled in the dialect of
+the country 'a mere,' about whose borders tall reeds were growing
+in abundance, this was a frequent haunt of mine; but my favourite
+place of resort was a wild sequestered spot at a somewhat greater
+distance. Here, surrounded with woods and thick groves, was the
+seat of some ancient family, deserted by the proprietor, and only
+inhabited by a rustic servant or two. A place more solitary and
+wild could scarcely be imagined; the garden and walks were
+overgrown with weeds and briers, and the unpruned woods were so
+tangled as to be almost impervious. About this domain I would
+wander till overtaken by fatigue, and then I would sit down with my
+back against some beech, elm, or stately alder tree, and, taking
+out my book, would pass hours in a state of unmixed enjoyment, my
+eyes now fixed on the wondrous pages, now glancing at the sylvan
+scene around; and sometimes I would drop the book and listen to the
+voice of the rooks and wild pigeons, and not unfrequently to the
+croaking of multitudes of frogs from the neighbouring swamps and
+fens.
+
+In going to and from this place I frequently passed a tall elderly
+individual, dressed in rather a quaint fashion, with a skin cap on
+his head and stout gaiters on his legs; on his shoulders hung a
+moderate sized leathern sack; he seemed fond of loitering near
+sunny banks, and of groping amidst furze and low scrubby bramble
+bushes, of which there were plenty in the neighbourhood of Norman
+Cross. Once I saw him standing in the middle of a dusty road,
+looking intently at a large mark which seemed to have been drawn
+across it, as if by a walking stick. 'He must have been a large
+one,' the old man muttered half to himself, 'or he would not have
+left such a trail, I wonder if he is near; he seems to have moved
+this way.' He then went behind some bushes which grew on the right
+side of the road, and appeared to be in quest of something, moving
+behind the bushes with his head downwards, and occasionally
+striking their roots with his foot: at length he exclaimed, 'Here
+he is!' and forthwith I saw him dart amongst the bushes. There was
+a kind of scuffling noise, the rustling of branches, and the
+crackling of dry sticks. 'I have him!' said the man at last; 'I
+have got him!' and presently he made his appearance about twenty
+yards down the road, holding a large viper in his hand. 'What do
+you think of that, my boy?' said he, as I went up to him--'what do
+you think of catching such a thing as that with the naked hand?'
+'What do I think?' said I. 'Why, that I could do as much myself.'
+'You do,' said the man, 'do you? Lord! how the young people in
+these days are given to conceit; it did not use to be so in my
+time: when I was a child, childer knew how to behave themselves;
+but the childer of these days are full of conceit, full of froth,
+like the mouth of this viper'; and with his forefinger and thumb he
+squeezed a considerable quantity of foam from the jaws of the viper
+down upon the road. 'The childer of these days are a generation
+of--God forgive me, what was I about to say?' said the old man; and
+opening his bag he thrust the reptile into it, which appeared far
+from empty. I passed on. As I was returning, towards the evening,
+I overtook the old man, who was wending in the same direction.
+'Good evening to you, sir,' said I, taking off a cap which I wore
+on my head. 'Good evening,' said the old man; and then, looking at
+me, 'How's this?' said he, 'you aren't, sure, the child I met in
+the morning?' 'Yes,' said I, 'I am; what makes you doubt it?'
+'Why, you were then all froth and conceit,' said the old man, 'and
+now you take off your cap to me.' 'I beg your pardon,' said I, 'if
+I was frothy and conceited; it ill becomes a child like me to be
+so.' 'That's true, dear,' said the old man; 'well, as you have
+begged my pardon, I truly forgive you.' 'Thank you,' said I; 'have
+you caught any more of those things?' 'Only four or five,' said
+the old man; 'they are getting scarce, though this used to be a
+great neighbourhood for them.' 'And what do you do with them?'
+said I; 'do you carry them home and play with them?' 'I sometimes
+play with one or two that I tame,' said the old man; 'but I hunt
+them mostly for the fat which they contain, out of which I make
+unguents which are good for various sore troubles, especially for
+the rheumatism.' 'And do you get your living by hunting these
+creatures?' I demanded. 'Not altogether,' said the old man;
+'besides being a viper-hunter, I am what they call a herbalist, one
+who knows the virtue of particular herbs; I gather them at the
+proper season, to make medicines with for the sick.' 'And do you
+live in the neighbourhood?' I demanded. 'You seem very fond of
+asking questions, child. No, I do not live in this neighbourhood
+in particular, I travel about; I have not been in this
+neighbourhood till lately for some years.'
+
+From this time the old man and myself formed an acquaintance; I
+often accompanied him in his wanderings about the neighbourhood,
+and, on two or three occasions, assisted him in catching the
+reptiles which he hunted. He generally carried a viper with him
+which he had made quite tame, and from which he had extracted the
+poisonous fangs; it would dance and perform various kinds of
+tricks. He was fond of telling me anecdotes connected with his
+adventures with the reptile species. 'But,' said he one day,
+sighing, 'I must shortly give up this business, I am no longer the
+man I was, I am become timid, and when a person is timid in viper-
+hunting, he had better leave off, as it is quite clear his virtue
+is leaving him. I got a fright some years ago, which I am quite
+sure I shall never get the better of; my hand has been shaky more
+or less ever since.' 'What frightened you?' said I. 'I had better
+not tell you,' said the old man, 'or you may be frightened too,
+lose your virtue, and be no longer good for the business.' 'I
+don't care,' said I; 'I don't intend to follow the business: I
+daresay I shall be an officer, like my father.' 'Well,' said the
+old man, 'I once saw the king of the vipers, and since then--'
+'The king of the vipers!' said I, interrupting him; 'have the
+vipers a king?' 'As sure as we have,' said the old man--'as sure
+as we have King George to rule over us, have these reptiles a king
+to rule over them.' 'And where did you see him?' said I. 'I will
+tell you,' said the old man, 'though I don't like talking about the
+matter. It may be about seven years ago that I happened to be far
+down yonder to the west, on the other side of England, nearly two
+hundred miles from here, following my business. It was a very
+sultry day, I remember, and I had been out several hours catching
+creatures. It might be about three o'clock in the afternoon, when
+I found myself on some heathy land near the sea, on the ridge of a
+hill, the side of which, nearly as far down as the sea, was heath;
+but on the top there was arable ground, which had been planted, and
+from which the harvest had been gathered--oats or barley, I know
+not which--but I remember that the ground was covered with stubble.
+Well, about three o'clock, as I told you before, what with the heat
+of the day and from having walked about for hours in a lazy way, I
+felt very tired; so I determined to have a sleep, and I laid myself
+down, my head just on the ridge of the hill, towards the field, and
+my body over the side down amongst the heath; my bag, which was
+nearly filled with creatures, lay at a little distance from my
+face; the creatures were struggling in it, I remember, and I
+thought to myself, how much more comfortably off I was than they; I
+was taking my ease on the nice open hill, cooled with the breezes,
+whilst they were in the nasty close bag, coiling about one another,
+and breaking their very hearts, all to no purpose: and I felt
+quite comfortable and happy in the thought, and little by little
+closed my eyes, and fell into the sweetest snooze that ever I was
+in in all my life; and there I lay over the hill's side, with my
+head half in the field, I don't know how long, all dead asleep. At
+last it seemed to me that I heard a noise in my sleep, something
+like a thing moving, very faint, however, far away; then it died,
+and then it came again upon my ear as I slept, and now it appeared
+almost as if I heard crackle, crackle; then it died again, or I
+became yet more dead asleep than before, I know not which, but I
+certainly lay some time without hearing it. All of a sudden I
+became awake, and there was I, on the ridge of the hill, with my
+cheek on the ground towards the stubble, with a noise in my ear
+like that of something moving towards me amongst the stubble of the
+field; well, I lay a moment or two listening to the noise, and then
+I became frightened, for I did not like the noise at all, it
+sounded so odd; so I rolled myself on my belly, and looked towards
+the stubble. Mercy upon us! there was a huge snake, or rather a
+dreadful viper, for it was all yellow and gold, moving towards me,
+bearing its head about a foot and a half above the ground, the dry
+stubble crackling beneath its outrageous belly. It might be about
+five yards off when I first saw it, making straight towards me,
+child, as if it would devour me. I lay quite still, for I was
+stupefied with horror, whilst the creature came still nearer; and
+now it was nearly upon me, when it suddenly drew back a little, and
+then--what do you think?--it lifted its head and chest high in the
+air, and high over my face as I looked up, flickering at me with
+its tongue as if it would fly at my face. Child, what I felt at
+that moment I can scarcely say, but it was a sufficient punishment
+for all the sins I ever committed; and there we two were, I looking
+up at the viper, and the viper looking down upon me, flickering at
+me with its tongue. It was only the kindness of God that saved me:
+all at once there was a loud noise, the report of a gun, for a
+fowler was shooting at a covey of birds, a little way off in the
+stubble. Whereupon the viper sunk its head, and immediately made
+off over the ridge of the hill, down in the direction of the sea.
+As it passed by me, however--and it passed close by me--it
+hesitated a moment, as if it was doubtful whether it should not
+seize me; it did not, however, but made off down the hill. It has
+often struck me that he was angry with me, and came upon me
+unawares for presuming to meddle with his people, as I have always
+been in the habit of doing.'
+
+'But,' said I, 'how do you know that it was the king of the
+vipers?'
+
+'How do I know!' said the old man, 'who else should it be? There
+was as much difference between it and other reptiles as between
+King George and other people.'
+
+'Is King George, then, different from other people?' I demanded.
+
+'Of course,' said the old man; 'I have never seen him myself, but I
+have heard people say that he is a ten times greater man than other
+folks; indeed, it stands to reason that he must be different from
+the rest, else people would not be so eager to see him. Do you
+think, child, that people would be fools enough to run a matter of
+twenty or thirty miles to see the king, provided King George--'
+
+'Haven't the French a king?' I demanded.
+
+'Yes,' said the old man, 'or something much the same, and a queer
+one he is; not quite so big as King George, they say, but quite as
+terrible a fellow. What of him?'
+
+'Suppose he should come to Norman Cross!'
+
+'What should he do at Norman Cross, child?'
+
+'Why, you were talking about the vipers in your bag breaking their
+hearts, and so on, and their king coming to help them. Now,
+suppose the French king should hear of his people being in trouble
+at Norman Cross, and--'
+
+'He can't come, child,' said the old man, rubbing his hands, 'the
+water lies between. The French don't like the water; neither
+vipers nor Frenchmen take kindly to the water, child.'
+
+When the old man left the country, which he did a few days after
+the conversation which I have just related, he left me the reptile
+which he had tamed and rendered quite harmless by removing the
+fangs. I was in the habit of feeding it with milk, and frequently
+carried it abroad with me in my walks.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+
+The tent--Man and woman--Dark and swarthy--Manner of speaking--Bad
+money--Transfixed--Faltering tone--Little basket--High opinion--
+Plenty of good--Keeping guard--Tilted cart--Rubricals--Jasper--The
+right sort--The horseman of the lane--John Newton--The alarm--
+Gentle brothers.
+
+One day it happened that, being on my rambles, I entered a green
+lane which I had never seen before; at first it was rather narrow,
+but as I advanced it became considerably wider; in the middle was a
+driftway with deep ruts, but right and left was a space carpeted
+with a sward of trefoil and clover; there was no lack of trees,
+chiefly ancient oaks, which, flinging out their arms from either
+side, nearly formed a canopy, and afforded a pleasing shelter from
+the rays of the sun, which was burning fiercely above. Suddenly a
+group of objects attracted my attention. Beneath one of the
+largest of the trees, upon the grass, was a kind of low tent or
+booth, from the top of which a thin smoke was curling; beside it
+stood a couple of light carts, whilst two or three lean horses or
+ponies were cropping the herbage which was growing nigh. Wondering
+to whom this odd tent could belong, I advanced till I was close
+before it, when I found that it consisted of two tilts, like those
+of waggons, placed upon the ground and fronting each other,
+connected behind by a sail or large piece of canvas which was but
+partially drawn across the top; upon the ground, in the intervening
+space, was a fire, over which, supported by a kind of iron crowbar,
+hung a caldron; my advance had been so noiseless as not to alarm
+the inmates, who consisted of a man and woman, who sat apart, one
+on each side of the fire; they were both busily employed--the man
+was carding plaited straw, whilst the woman seemed to be rubbing
+something with a white powder, some of which lay on a plate beside
+her; suddenly the man looked up, and, perceiving me, uttered a
+strange kind of cry, and the next moment both the woman and himself
+were on their feet and rushing out upon me.
+
+I retreated a few steps, yet without turning to flee. I was not,
+however, without apprehension, which, indeed, the appearance of
+these two people was well calculated to inspire: the woman was a
+stout figure, seemingly between thirty and forty; she wore no cap,
+and her long hair fell on either side of her head like horse-tails
+half-way down her waist; her skin was dark and swarthy, like that
+of a toad, and the expression of her countenance was particularly
+evil; her arms were bare, and her bosom was but half concealed by a
+slight bodice, below which she wore a coarse petticoat, her only
+other article of dress. The man was somewhat younger, but of a
+figure equally wild; his frame was long and lathy, but his arms
+were remarkably short, his neck was rather bent, he squinted
+slightly, and his mouth was much awry; his complexion was dark,
+but, unlike that of the woman, was more ruddy than livid; there was
+a deep scar on his cheek, something like the impression of a
+halfpenny. The dress was quite in keeping with the figure: in his
+hat, which was slightly peaked, was stuck a peacock's feather; over
+a waistcoat of hide, untanned and with the hair upon it, he wore a
+rough jerkin of russet hue; smallclothes of leather, which had
+probably once belonged to a soldier, but with which pipeclay did
+not seem to have come in contact for many a year, protected his
+lower man as far as the knee; his legs were cased in long stockings
+of blue worsted, and on his shoes he wore immense old-fashioned
+buckles.
+
+Such were the two beings who now came rushing upon me; the man was
+rather in advance, brandishing a ladle in his hand.
+
+'So I have caught you at last,' said he; 'I'll teach ye, you young
+highwayman, to come skulking about my properties!'
+
+Young as I was, I remarked that his manner of speaking was
+different from that of any people with whom I had been in the habit
+of associating. It was quite as strange as his appearance, and yet
+it nothing resembled the foreign English which I had been in the
+habit of hearing through the palisades of the prison; he could
+scarcely be a foreigner.
+
+'Your properties!' said I; 'I am in the King's Lane. Why did you
+put them there, if you did not wish them to be seen?'
+
+'On the spy,' said the woman, 'hey? I'll drown him in the sludge
+in the toad-pond over the hedge.'
+
+'So we will,' said the man, 'drown him anon in the mud!'
+
+'Drown me, will you?' said I; 'I should like to see you! What's
+all this about? Was it because I saw you with your hands full of
+straw plait, and my mother there--'
+
+'Yes,' said the woman; 'what was I about?'
+
+Myself. How should I know? Making bad money, perhaps!
+
+And it will be as well here to observe, that at this time there was
+much bad money in circulation in the neighbourhood, generally
+supposed to be fabricated by the prisoners, so that this false coin
+and straw plait formed the standard subjects of conversation at
+Norman Cross.
+
+'I'll strangle thee,' said the beldame, dashing at me. 'Bad money,
+is it?'
+
+'Leave him to me, wifelkin,' said the man, interposing; 'you shall
+now see how I'll baste him down the lane.'
+
+Myself. I tell you what, my chap, you had better put down that
+thing of yours; my father lies concealed within my tepid breast,
+and if to me you offer any harm or wrong, I'll call him forth to
+help me with his forked tongue.
+
+Man. What do you mean, ye Bengui's bantling? I never heard such
+discourse in all my life: playman's speech or Frenchman's talk--
+which, I wonder? Your father! Tell the mumping villain that if he
+comes near my fire I'll serve him out as I will you. Take that--
+Tiny Jesus! what have we got here? Oh, delicate Jesus! what is the
+matter with the child?
+
+I had made a motion which the viper understood; and now, partly
+disengaging itself from my bosom, where it had lain perdu, it
+raised its head to a level with my face, and stared upon my enemy
+with its glittering eyes.
+
+The man stood like one transfixed, and the ladle, with which he had
+aimed a blow at me, now hung in the air like the hand which held
+it; his mouth was extended, and his cheeks became of a pale yellow,
+save alone that place which bore the mark which I have already
+described, and this shone now portentously, like fire. He stood in
+this manner for some time; at last the ladle fell from his hand,
+and its falling appeared to rouse him from his stupor.
+
+'I say, wifelkin,' said he, in a faltering tone, 'did you ever see
+the like of this here?'
+
+But the woman had retreated to the tent, from the entrance of which
+her loathly face was now thrust, with an expression partly of
+terror and partly of curiosity. After gazing some time longer at
+the viper and myself, the man stooped down and took up the ladle;
+then, as if somewhat more assured, he moved to the tent, where he
+entered into conversation with the beldame in a low voice. Of
+their discourse, though I could hear the greater part of it, I
+understood not a single word; and I wondered what it could be, for
+I knew by the sound that it was not French. At last the man, in a
+somewhat louder tone, appeared to put a question to the woman, who
+nodded her head affirmatively, and in a moment or two produced a
+small stool, which she delivered to him. He placed it on the
+ground, close by the door of the tent, first rubbing it with his
+sleeve, as if for the purpose of polishing its surface.
+
+Man. Now, my precious little gentleman, do sit down here by the
+poor people's tent; we wish to be civil in our slight way. Don't
+be angry, and say no; but look kindly upon us, and satisfied, my
+precious little God Almighty.
+
+Woman. Yes, my gorgeous angel, sit down by the poor bodies' fire,
+and eat a sweetmeat. We want to ask you a question or two; only
+first put that serpent away.
+
+Myself. I can sit down, and bid the serpent go to sleep, that's
+easy enough; but as for eating a sweetmeat, how can I do that? I
+have not got one, and where am I to get it?
+
+Woman. Never fear, my tiny tawny, we can give you one, such as you
+never ate, I daresay, however far you may have come from.
+
+The serpent sank into its usual resting-place, and I sat down on
+the stool. The woman opened a box, and took out a strange little
+basket or hamper, not much larger than a man's fist, and formed of
+a delicate kind of matting. It was sewed at the top; but, ripping
+it open with a knife, she held it to me, and I saw, to my surprise,
+that it contained candied fruits of a dark green hue, tempting
+enough to one of my age. 'There, my tiny,' said she; 'taste, and
+tell me how you like them.'
+
+'Very much,' said I; 'where did you get them?'
+
+The beldame leered upon me for a moment, then, nodding her head
+thrice, with a knowing look, said, 'Who knows better than yourself,
+my tawny?'
+
+Now, I knew nothing about the matter; but I saw that these strange
+people had conceived a very high opinion of the abilities of their
+visitor, which I was nothing loth to encourage. I therefore
+answered boldly, 'Ah! who indeed!'
+
+'Certainly,' said the man; 'who should know better than yourself,
+or so well? And now, my tiny one, let me ask you one thing--you
+didn't come to do us any harm?'
+
+'No,' said I, 'I had no dislike to you; though, if you were to
+meddle with me--'
+
+Man. Of course, my gorgeous, of course you would; and quite right
+too. Meddle with you!--what right have we? I should say, it would
+not be quite safe. I see how it is; you are one of them there;--
+and he bent his head towards his left shoulder.
+
+Myself. Yes, I am one of them--for I thought he was alluding to
+the soldiers,--you had best mind what you are about, I can tell
+you.
+
+Man. Don't doubt we will for our own sake; Lord bless you,
+wifelkin, only think that we should see one of them there when we
+least thought about it. Well, I have heard of such things, though
+I never thought to see one; however, seeing is believing. Well!
+now you are come, and are not going to do us any mischief, I hope
+you will stay; you can do us plenty of good if you will.
+
+Myself. What good could I do you?
+
+Man. What good? plenty! Would you not bring us luck? I have
+heard say that one of them there always does, if it will but settle
+down. Stay with us, you shall have a tilted cart all to yourself
+if you like. We'll make you our little God Almighty, and say our
+prayers to you every morning!
+
+Myself. That would be nice; and, if you were to give me plenty of
+these things, I should have no objection. But what would my father
+say? I think he would hardly let me.
+
+Man. Why not? he would be with you; and kindly would we treat him.
+Indeed, without your father you would be nothing at all.
+
+Myself. That's true; but I do not think he could be spared from
+his regiment. I have heard him say that they could do nothing
+without him.
+
+Man. His regiment! What are you talking about?--what does the
+child mean?
+
+Myself. What do I mean!--why, that my father is an officer-man at
+the barracks yonder, keeping guard over the French prisoners.
+
+Man. Oh! then that sap is not your father?
+
+Myself. What, the snake? Why, no! Did you think he was?
+
+Man. To be sure we did. Didn't you tell me so?
+
+Myself. Why, yes; but who would have thought you would have
+believed it? It is a tame one. I hunt vipers, and tame them.
+
+Man. O-h!
+
+'O-h!' grunted the woman, 'that's it, is it?'
+
+The man and woman, who during this conversation had resumed their
+former positions within the tent, looked at each other with a queer
+look of surprise, as if somewhat disconcerted at what they now
+heard. They then entered into discourse with each other in the
+same strange tongue which had already puzzled me. At length the
+man looked me in the face, and said, somewhat hesitatingly, 'So you
+are not one of them there after all?'
+
+Myself. One of them there? I don't know what you mean.
+
+Man. Why, we have been thinking you were a goblin--a devilkin!
+However, I see how it is: you are a sap-engro, a chap who catches
+snakes, and plays tricks with them! Well, it comes very nearly to
+the same thing; and if you please to list with us, and bear us
+pleasant company, we shall be glad of you. I'd take my oath upon
+it, that we might make a mort of money by you and that sap, and the
+tricks it could do; and, as you seem fly to everything, I shouldn't
+wonder if you would make a prime hand at telling fortunes.
+
+'I shouldn't wonder,' said I.
+
+Man. Of course. And you might still be our God Almighty, or at
+any rate our clergyman, so you should live in a tilted cart by
+yourself, and say prayers to us night and morning--to wifelkin
+here, and all our family; there's plenty of us when we are all
+together: as I said before, you seem fly, I shouldn't wonder if
+you could read?
+
+'Oh yes!' said I, 'I can read'; and, eager to display my
+accomplishments, I took my book out of my pocket, and, opening it
+at random, proceeded to read how a certain man, whilst wandering
+about a certain solitary island, entered a cave, the mouth of which
+was overgrown with brushwood, and how he was nearly frightened to
+death in that cave by something which he saw.
+
+'That will do,' said the man; 'that's the kind of prayers for me
+and my family, aren't they, wifelkin? I never heard more delicate
+prayers in all my life! Why, they beat the rubricals hollow!--and
+here comes my son Jasper. I say, Jasper, here's a young sap-engro
+that can read, and is more fly than yourself. Shake hands with
+him; I wish ye to be two brothers.'
+
+With a swift but stealthy pace Jasper came towards us from the
+farther part of the lane; on reaching the tent he stood still, and
+looked fixedly upon me as I sat upon the stool; I looked fixedly
+upon him. A queer look had Jasper; he was a lad of some twelve or
+thirteen years, with long arms, unlike the singular being who
+called himself his father; his complexion was ruddy, but his face
+was seamed, though it did not bear the peculiar scar which
+disfigured the countenance of the other; nor, though roguish
+enough, a certain evil expression which that of the other bore, and
+which the face of the woman possessed in a yet more remarkable
+degree. For the rest, he wore drab breeches, with certain strings
+at the knee, a rather gay waistcoat, and tolerably white shirt;
+under his arm he bore a mighty whip of whalebone with a brass knob,
+and upon his head was a hat without either top or brim.
+
+'There, Jasper! shake hands with the sap-engro.'
+
+'Can he box, father?' said Jasper, surveying me rather
+contemptuously. 'I should think not, he looks so puny and small.'
+
+'Hold your peace, fool!' said the man; 'he can do more than that--I
+tell you he's fly: he carries a sap about, which would sting a
+ninny like you to dead.'
+
+'What, a sap-engro!' said the boy, with a singular whine, and,
+stooping down, he leered curiously in my face, kindly, however, and
+then patted me on the head. 'A sap-engro,' he ejaculated; 'lor!'
+
+'Yes, and one of the right sort,' said the man; 'I am glad we have
+met with him, he is going to list with us, and be our clergyman and
+God Almighty, ain't you, my tawny?'
+
+'I don't know,' said I; 'I must see what my father will say.'
+
+'Your father; bah!'--but here he stopped, for a sound was heard
+like the rapid galloping of a horse, not loud and distinct as on a
+road, but dull and heavy as if upon a grass sward; nearer and
+nearer it came, and the man, starting up, rushed out of the tent,
+and looked around anxiously. I arose from the stool upon which I
+had been seated, and just at that moment, amidst a crashing of
+boughs and sticks, a man on horseback bounded over the hedge into
+the lane at a few yards' distance from where we were: from the
+impetus of the leap the horse was nearly down on his knees; the
+rider, however, by dint of vigorous handling of the reins,
+prevented him from falling, and then rode up to the tent. ''Tis
+Nat,' said the man; 'what brings him here?' The new-comer was a
+stout burly fellow, about the middle age; he had a savage
+determined look, and his face was nearly covered over with
+carbuncles; he wore a broad slouching hat, and was dressed in a
+gray coat, cut in a fashion which I afterwards learnt to be the
+genuine Newmarket cut, the skirts being exceedingly short; his
+waistcoat was of red plush, and he wore broad corduroy breeches and
+white top-boots. The steed which carried him was of iron gray,
+spirited and powerful, but covered with sweat and foam. The fellow
+glanced fiercely and suspiciously around, and said something to the
+man of the tent in a harsh and rapid voice. A short and hurried
+conversation ensued in the strange tongue. I could not take my
+eyes off this new-comer. Oh, that half-jockey, half-bruiser
+countenance, I never forgot it! More than fifteen years afterwards
+I found myself amidst a crowd before Newgate; a gallows was
+erected, and beneath it stood a criminal, a notorious malefactor.
+I recognised him at once; the horseman of the lane is now beneath
+the fatal tree, but nothing altered; still the same man; jerking
+his head to the right and left with the same fierce and under
+glance, just as if the affairs of this world had the same kind of
+interest to the last; gray coat of Newmarket cut, plush waistcoat,
+corduroys, and boots, nothing altered; but the head, alas! is bare,
+and so is the neck. Oh, crime and virtue, virtue and crime!--it
+was old John Newton, I think, who, when he saw a man going to be
+hanged, said, 'There goes John Newton, but for the grace of God!'
+
+But the lane, the lane, all was now in confusion in the lane; the
+man and woman were employed in striking the tents and in making
+hurried preparations for departure; the boy Jasper was putting the
+harness upon the ponies and attaching them to the carts; and, to
+increase the singularity of the scene, two or three wild-looking
+women and girls, in red cloaks and immense black beaver bonnets,
+came from I know not what direction, and, after exchanging a few
+words with the others, commenced with fierce and agitated gestures
+to assist them in their occupation. The rider meanwhile sat upon
+his horse, but evidently in a state of great impatience; he
+muttered curses between his teeth, spurred the animal furiously,
+and then reined it in, causing it to rear itself up nearly
+perpendicular. At last he said, 'Curse ye for Romans, how slow ye
+are! well, it is no business of mine, stay here all day if you
+like; I have given ye warning, I am off to the big north road.
+However, before I go, you had better give me all you have of that.'
+
+'Truly spoken, Nat, my pal,' said the man; 'give it him, mother.
+There it is; now be off as soon as you please, and rid us of evil
+company.'
+
+The woman had handed him two bags formed of stocking, half full of
+something heavy, which looked through them for all the world like
+money of some kind. The fellow, on receiving them, thrust them
+without ceremony into the pockets of his coat, and then, without a
+word of farewell salutation, departed at a tremendous rate, the
+hoofs of his horse thundering for a long time on the hard soil of
+the neighbouring road, till the sound finally died away in the
+distance. The strange people were not slow in completing their
+preparations, and then, flogging their animals terrifically,
+hurried away seemingly in the same direction.
+
+The boy Jasper was last of the band. As he was following the rest,
+he stopped suddenly, and looked on the ground appearing to muse;
+then, turning round, he came up to me where I was standing, leered
+in my face, and then, thrusting out his hand, he said, 'Good-bye,
+Sap, I daresay we shall meet again, remember we are brothers; two
+gentle brothers.'
+
+Then whining forth, 'What a sap-engro, lor!' he gave me a parting
+leer, and hastened away.
+
+I remained standing in the lane gazing after the retreating
+company. 'A strange set of people,' said I at last; 'wonder who
+they can be?'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+
+Three years--Lilly's grammar--Proficiency--Ignorant of figures--The
+school bell--Order of succession--Persecution--What are we to do?--
+Northward--A goodly scene--Haunted ground--Feats of chivalry--
+Rivers--Over the brig.
+
+Years passed on, even three years; during this period I had
+increased considerably in stature and in strength, and, let us
+hope, improved in mind; for I had entered on the study of the Latin
+language. The very first person to whose care I was intrusted for
+the acquisition of Latin was an old friend of my fathers, a
+clergyman who kept a seminary at a town the very next we visited
+after our departure from 'the Cross.' Under his instruction,
+however, I continued only a few weeks, as we speedily left the
+place. 'Captain,' said this divine, when my father came to take
+leave of him on the eve of our departure, 'I have a friendship for
+you, and therefore wish to give you a piece of advice concerning
+this son of yours. You are now removing him from my care; you do
+wrong, but we will let that pass. Listen to me: there is but one
+good school-book in the world--the one I use in my seminary--
+Lilly's Latin grammar, in which your son has already made some
+progress. If you are anxious for the success of your son in life,
+for the correctness of his conduct and the soundness of his
+principles, keep him to Lilly's grammar. If you can by any means,
+either fair or foul, induce him to get by heart Lilly's Latin
+grammar, you may set your heart at rest with respect to him; I,
+myself, will be his warrant. I never yet knew a boy that was
+induced, either by fair means or foul, to learn Lilly's Latin
+grammar by heart, who did not turn out a man, provided he lived
+long enough.'
+
+My father, who did not understand the classical languages, received
+with respect the advice of his old friend, and from that moment
+conceived the highest opinion of Lilly's Latin grammar. During
+three years I studied Lilly's Latin grammar under the tuition of
+various schoolmasters, for I travelled with the regiment, and in
+every town in which we were stationary I was invariably (God bless
+my father!) sent to the classical academy of the place. It
+chanced, by good fortune, that in the generality of these schools
+the grammar of Lilly was in use; when, however, that was not the
+case, it made no difference in my educational course, my father
+always stipulating with the masters that I should be daily examined
+in Lilly. At the end of the three years I had the whole by heart;
+you had only to repeat the first two or three words of any sentence
+in any part of the book, and forthwith I would open cry, commencing
+without blundering and hesitation, and continue till you were glad
+to beg me to leave off, with many expressions of admiration at my
+proficiency in the Latin language. Sometimes, however, to convince
+you how well I merited these encomiums, I would follow you to the
+bottom of the stair, and even into the street, repeating in a kind
+of sing-song measure the sonorous lines of the golden schoolmaster.
+If I am here asked whether I understood anything of what I had got
+by heart, I reply--'Never mind, I understand it all now, and
+believe that no one ever yet got Lilly's Latin grammar by heart
+when young, who repented of the feat at a mature age.'
+
+And, when my father saw that I had accomplished my task, he opened
+his mouth, and said, 'Truly, this is more than I expected. I did
+not think that there had been so much in you, either of application
+or capacity; you have now learnt all that is necessary, if my
+friend Dr. B-'s opinion was sterling, as I have no doubt it was.
+You are still a child, however, and must yet go to school, in order
+that you may be kept out of evil company. Perhaps you may still
+contrive, now you have exhausted the barn, to pick up a grain or
+two in the barn-yard. You are still ignorant of figures, I
+believe, not that I would mention figures in the same day with
+Lilly's grammar.'
+
+These words were uttered in a place called -, in the north, or in
+the road to the north, to which, for some time past, our corps had
+been slowly advancing. I was sent to the school of the place,
+which chanced to be a day school. It was a somewhat extraordinary
+one, and a somewhat extraordinary event occurred to me within its
+walls.
+
+It occupied part of the farther end of a small plain, or square, at
+the outskirts of the town, close to some extensive bleaching
+fields. It was a long low building of one room, with no upper
+story; on the top was a kind of wooden box, or sconce, which I at
+first mistook for a pigeon-house, but which in reality contained a
+bell, to which was attached a rope, which, passing through the
+ceiling, hung dangling in the middle of the school-room. I am the
+more particular in mentioning this appurtenance, as I had soon
+occasion to scrape acquaintance with it in a manner not very
+agreeable to my feelings. The master was very proud of his bell,
+if I might judge from the fact of his eyes being frequently turned
+to that part of the ceiling from which the rope depended. Twice
+every day, namely, after the morning and evening tasks had been
+gone through, were the boys rung out of school by the monotonous
+jingle of this bell. This ringing out was rather a lengthy affair,
+for, as the master was a man of order and method, the boys were
+only permitted to go out of the room one by one; and as they were
+rather numerous, amounting, at least, to one hundred, and were
+taught to move at a pace of suitable decorum, at least a quarter of
+an hour elapsed from the commencement of the march before the last
+boy could make his exit. The office of bell-ringer was performed
+by every boy successively; and it so happened that, the very first
+day of my attendance at the school, the turn to ring the bell had,
+by order of succession, arrived at the place which had been
+allotted to me; for the master, as I have already observed, was a
+man of method and order, and every boy had a particular seat, to
+which he became a fixture as long as he continued at the school.
+
+So, upon this day, when the tasks were done and completed, and the
+boys sat with their hats and caps in their hands, anxiously
+expecting the moment of dismissal, it was suddenly notified to me,
+by the urchins who sat nearest to me, that I must get up and ring
+the bell. Now, as this was the first time that I had been at the
+school, I was totally unacquainted with the process, which I had
+never seen, and, indeed, had never heard of till that moment. I
+therefore sat still, not imagining it possible that any such duty
+could be required of me. But now, with not a little confusion, I
+perceived that the eyes of all the boys in the school were fixed
+upon me. Presently there were nods and winks in the direction of
+the bell-rope; and, as these produced no effect, uncouth visages
+were made, like those of monkeys when enraged; teeth were gnashed,
+tongues thrust out, and even fists were bent at me. The master,
+who stood at the end of the room, with a huge ferule under his arm,
+bent full upon me a look of stern appeal; and the ushers, of whom
+there were four, glared upon me, each from his own particular
+corner, as I vainly turned, in one direction and another, in search
+of one reassuring look.
+
+But now, probably in obedience to a sign from the master, the boys
+in my immediate neighbourhood began to maltreat me. Some pinched me
+with their fingers, some buffeted me, whilst others pricked me with
+pins, or the points of compasses. These arguments were not without
+effect. I sprang from my seat, and endeavoured to escape along a
+double line of benches, thronged with boys of all ages, from the
+urchin of six or seven to the nondescript of sixteen or seventeen.
+It was like running the gauntlet; every one, great or small,
+pinching, kicking, or otherwise maltreating me, as I passed by.
+
+Goaded on in this manner, I at length reached the middle of the
+room, where dangled the bell-rope, the cause of all my sufferings.
+I should have passed it--for my confusion was so great that I was
+quite at a loss to comprehend what all this could mean, and almost
+believed myself under the influence of an ugly dream--but now the
+boys, who were seated in advance in the row, arose with one accord,
+and barred my farther progress; and one, doubtless more sensible
+than the rest, seizing the rope, thrust it into my hand. I now
+began to perceive that the dismissal of the school, and my own
+release from torment, depended upon this selfsame rope. I
+therefore, in a fit of desperation, pulled it once or twice, and
+then left off, naturally supposing that I had done quite enough.
+The boys who sat next the door no sooner heard the bell, than,
+rising from their seats, they moved out at the door. The bell,
+however, had no sooner ceased to jingle, than they stopped short,
+and, turning round, stared at the master, as much as to say, 'What
+are we to do now?' This was too much for the patience of the man
+of method, which my previous stupidity had already nearly
+exhausted. Dashing forward into the middle of the room, he struck
+me violently on the shoulders with his ferule, and, snatching the
+rope out of my hand, exclaimed, with a stentorian voice, and
+genuine Yorkshire accent, 'Prodigy of ignorance! dost not even know
+how to ring a bell? Must I myself instruct thee?' He then
+commenced pulling at the bell with such violence that long before
+half the school was dismissed the rope broke, and the rest of the
+boys had to depart without their accustomed music.
+
+But I must not linger here, though I could say much about the
+school and the pedagogue highly amusing and diverting, which,
+however, I suppress, in order to make way for matters of yet
+greater interest. On we went, northward, northward! and, as we
+advanced, I saw that the country was becoming widely different from
+those parts of merry England in which we had previously travelled.
+It was wilder, and less cultivated, and more broken with hills and
+hillocks. The people, too, of these regions appeared to partake of
+something of the character of their country. They were coarsely
+dressed; tall and sturdy of frame; their voices were deep and
+guttural; and the half of the dialect which they spoke was
+unintelligible to my ears.
+
+I often wondered where we could be going, for I was at this time
+about as ignorant of geography as I was of most other things.
+However, I held my peace, asked no questions, and patiently awaited
+the issue.
+
+Northward, northward, still! And it came to pass that, one
+morning, I found myself extended on the bank of a river. It was a
+beautiful morning of early spring; small white clouds were floating
+in the heaven, occasionally veiling the countenance of the sun,
+whose light, as they retired, would again burst forth, coursing
+like a race-horse over the scene--and a goodly scene it was!
+Before me, across the water, on an eminence, stood a white old
+city, surrounded with lofty walls, above which rose the tops of
+tall houses, with here and there a church or steeple. To my right
+hand was a long and massive bridge, with many arches, and of
+antique architecture, which traversed the river. The river was a
+noble one; the broadest that I had hitherto seen. Its waters, of a
+greenish tinge, poured with impetuosity beneath the narrow arches
+to meet the sea, close at hand, as the boom of the billows breaking
+distinctly upon a beach declared. There were songs upon the river
+from the fisher-barks; and occasionally a chorus, plaintive and
+wild, such as I had never heard before, the words of which I did
+not understand, but which, at the present time, down the long
+avenue of years, seem in memory's ear to sound like 'Horam, coram,
+dago.' Several robust fellows were near me, some knee-deep in
+water, employed in hauling the seine upon the strand. Huge fish
+were struggling amidst the meshes--princely salmon,--their
+brilliant mail of blue and silver flashing in the morning beam; so
+goodly and gay a scene, in truth, had never greeted my boyish eye.
+
+And, as I gazed upon the prospect, my bosom began to heave, and my
+tears to trickle. Was it the beauty of the scene which gave rise
+to these emotions? Possibly; for though a poor ignorant child--a
+half-wild creature--I was not insensible to the loveliness of
+nature, and took pleasure in the happiness and handiworks of my
+fellow-creatures. Yet, perhaps, in something more deep and
+mysterious the feelings which then pervaded me might originate.
+Who can lie down on Elvir Hill without experiencing something of
+the sorcery of the place? Flee from Elvir Hill, young swain, or
+the maids of Elle will have power over you, and you will go elf-
+wild!--so say the Danes. I had unconsciously laid myself down upon
+haunted ground; and I am willing to imagine that what I then
+experienced was rather connected with the world of spirits and
+dreams than with what I actually saw and heard around me. Surely
+the elves and genii of the place were conversing, by some
+inscrutable means, with the principle of intelligence lurking
+within the poor uncultivated clod! Perhaps to that ethereal
+principle the wonders of the past, as connected with that stream,
+the glories of the present, and even the history of the future,
+were at that moment being revealed! Of how many feats of chivalry
+had those old walls been witness, when hostile kings contended for
+their possession!--how many an army from the south and from the
+north had trod that old bridge!--what red and noble blood had
+crimsoned those rushing waters!-what strains had been sung, ay,
+were yet being sung, on its banks!--some soft as Doric reed; some
+fierce and sharp as those of Norwegian Skaldaglam; some as replete
+with wild and wizard force as Finland's runes, singing of
+Kalevala's moors, and the deeds of Woinomoinen! Honour to thee,
+thou island stream! Onward may thou ever roll, fresh and green,
+rejoicing in thy bright past, thy glorious present, and in vivid
+hope of a triumphant future! Flow on, beautiful one!--which of the
+world's streams canst thou envy, with thy beauty and renown?
+Stately is the Danube, rolling in its might through lands romantic
+with the wild exploits of Turk, Polak, and Magyar! Lovely is the
+Rhine! on its shelvy banks grows the racy grape; and strange old
+keeps of robber-knights of yore are reflected in its waters, from
+picturesque crags and airy headlands!--yet neither the stately
+Danube nor the beauteous Rhine, with all their fame, though
+abundant, needst thou envy, thou pure island stream!--and far less
+yon turbid river of old, not modern renown, gurgling beneath the
+walls of what was once proud Rome, towering Rome, Jupiter's town,
+but now vile Rome, crumbling Rome, Batuscha's town, far less needst
+thou envy the turbid Tiber of bygone fame, creeping sadly to the
+sea, surcharged with the abominations of modern Rome--how unlike to
+thee, thou pure island stream!
+
+And, as I lay on the bank and wept, there drew nigh to me a man in
+the habiliments of a fisher. He was bare-legged, of a weather-
+beaten countenance, and of stature approaching to the gigantic.
+'What is the callant greeting for?' said he, as he stopped and
+surveyed me. 'Has onybody wrought ye ony harm?'
+
+'Not that I know of,' I replied, rather guessing at than
+understanding his question; 'I was crying because I could not help
+it! I say, old one, what is the name of this river?'
+
+'Hout! I now see what you was greeting at--at your ain ignorance,
+nae doubt--'tis very great! Weel, I will na fash you with
+reproaches, but even enlighten ye, since you seem a decent man's
+bairn, and you speir a civil question. Yon river is called the
+Tweed; and yonder, over the brig, is Scotland. Did ye never hear
+of the Tweed, my bonny man?'
+
+'No,' said I, as I rose from the grass, and proceeded to cross the
+bridge to the town at which we had arrived the preceding night; 'I
+never heard of it; but now I have seen it, I shall not soon forget
+it!'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+
+The Castle--A father's inquiries--Scotch language--A determination-
+-Bui hin Digri--Good Scotchman--Difference of races--Ne'er a
+haggis--Pugnacious people--Wha are ye, man?--The Nor Loch--Gestures
+wild--The bicker--New Town champion--Wild-looking figure--Headlong.
+
+It was not long before we found ourselves at Edinburgh, or rather
+in the Castle, into which the regiment marched with drums beating,
+colours flying, and a long train of baggage-waggons behind. The
+Castle was, as I suppose it is now, a garrison for soldiers. Two
+other regiments were already there; the one an Irish, if I remember
+right, the other a small Highland corps.
+
+It is hardly necessary to say much about this Castle, which
+everybody has seen; on which account, doubtless, nobody has ever
+yet thought fit to describe it--at least that I am aware. Be this
+as it may, I have no intention of describing it, and shall content
+myself with observing that we took up our abode in that immense
+building, or caserne, of modern erection, which occupies the entire
+eastern side of the bold rock on which the Castle stands. A
+gallant caserne it was--the best and roomiest that I had hitherto
+seen--rather cold and windy, it is true, especially in the winter,
+but commanding a noble prospect of a range of distant hills, which
+I was told were 'the hieland hills,' and of a broad arm of the sea,
+which I heard somebody say was the Firth of Forth.
+
+My brother, who, for some years past, had been receiving his
+education in a certain celebrated school in England, was now with
+us; and it came to pass, that one day my father, as he sat at
+table, looked steadfastly on my brother and myself, and then
+addressed my mother: --'During my journey down hither, I have lost
+no opportunity of making inquiries about these people, the Scotch,
+amongst whom we now are, and since I have been here I have observed
+them attentively. From what I have heard and seen, I should say
+that upon the whole they are a very decent set of people; they seem
+acute and intelligent, and I am told that their system of education
+is so excellent that every person is learned--more or less
+acquainted with Greek and Latin. There is one thing, however,
+connected with them, which is a great drawback--the horrid jargon
+which they speak. However learned they may be in Greek and Latin,
+their English is execrable; and yet I'm told it is not so bad as it
+was. I was in company, the other day, with an Englishman who has
+resided here many years. We were talking about the country and the
+people. "I should like both very well," said I, "were it not for
+the language. I wish sincerely our Parliament, which is passing so
+many foolish acts every year, would pass one to force these Scotch
+to speak English." "I wish so, too," said he. "The language is a
+disgrace to the British Government; but, if you had heard it twenty
+years ago, captain!--if you had heard it as it was spoken when I
+first came to Edinburgh!"'
+
+'Only custom,' said my mother. 'I daresay the language is now what
+it was then.'
+
+'I don't know,' said my father; 'though I daresay you are right; it
+could never have been worse than it is at present. But now to the
+point. Were it not for the language, which, if the boys were to
+pick it up, might ruin their prospects in life,--were it not for
+that, I should very much like to send them to a school there is in
+this place, which everybody talks about--the High School I think
+they call it. 'Tis said to be the best school in the whole island;
+but the idea of one's children speaking Scotch--broad Scotch! I
+must think the matter over.'
+
+And he did think the matter over; and the result of his
+deliberation was a determination to send us to the school. Let me
+call thee up before my mind's eye, High School, to which, every
+morning, the two English brothers took their way from the proud old
+Castle through the lofty streets of the Old Town. High School!--
+called so, I scarcely know why; neither lofty in thyself nor by
+position, being situated in a flat bottom; oblong structure of
+tawny stone, with many windows fenced with iron netting--with thy
+long hall below, and thy five chambers above, for the reception of
+the five classes, into which the eight hundred urchins who styled
+thee instructress were divided. Thy learned rector and his four
+subordinate dominies; thy strange old porter of the tall form and
+grizzled hair, hight Boee, and doubtless of Norse ancestry, as his
+name declares; perhaps of the blood of Bui hin Digri, the hero of
+northern song--the Jomsborg Viking who clove Thorsteinn Midlangr
+asunder in the dread sea battle of Horunga Vog, and who, when the
+fight was lost and his own two hands smitten off, seized two chests
+of gold with his bloody stumps, and, springing with them into the
+sea, cried to the scanty relics of his crew, 'Overboard now, all
+Bui's lads!' Yes, I remember all about thee, and how at eight of
+every morn we were all gathered together with one accord in the
+long hall, from which, after the litanies had been read (for so I
+will call them, being an Episcopalian), the five classes from the
+five sets of benches trotted off in long files, one boy after the
+other, up the five spiral staircases of stone, each class to its
+destination; and well do I remember how we of the third sat hushed
+and still, watched by the eye of the dux, until the door opened,
+and in walked that model of a good Scotchman, the shrewd,
+intelligent, but warm-hearted and kind dominie, the respectable
+Carson.
+
+And in this school I began to construe the Latin language, which I
+had never done before, notwithstanding my long and diligent study
+of Lilly, which illustrious grammar was not used at Edinburgh, nor
+indeed known. Greek was only taught in the fifth or highest class,
+in which my brother was; as for myself, I never got beyond the
+third during the two years that I remained at this seminary. I
+certainly acquired here a considerable insight in the Latin tongue;
+and, to the scandal of my father and horror of my mother, a
+thorough proficiency in the Scotch, which, in less than two months,
+usurped the place of the English, and so obstinately maintained its
+ground, that I still can occasionally detect its lingering remains.
+I did not spend my time unpleasantly at this school, though, first
+of all, I had to pass through an ordeal.
+
+'Scotland is a better country than England,' said an ugly, blear-
+eyed lad, about a head and shoulders taller than myself, the leader
+of a gang of varlets who surrounded me in the playground, on the
+first day, as soon as the morning lesson was over. 'Scotland is a
+far better country than England, in every respect.'
+
+'Is it?' said I. 'Then you ought to be very thankful for not
+having been born in England.'
+
+'That's just what I am, ye loon; and every morning, when I say my
+prayers, I thank God for not being an Englishman. The Scotch are a
+much better and braver people than the English.'
+
+'It may be so,' said I, 'for what I know--indeed, till I came here,
+I never heard a word either about the Scotch or their country.'
+
+'Are ye making fun of us, ye English puppy?' said the blear-eyed
+lad; 'take that!' and I was presently beaten black and blue. And
+thus did I first become aware of the difference of races and their
+antipathy to each other.
+
+'Bow to the storm, and it shall pass over you.' I held my peace,
+and silently submitted to the superiority of the Scotch--IN
+NUMBERS. This was enough; from an object of persecution I soon
+became one of patronage, especially amongst the champions of the
+class. 'The English,' said the blear-eyed lad, 'though a wee bit
+behind the Scotch in strength and fortitude, are nae to be sneezed
+at, being far ahead of the Irish, to say nothing of the French, a
+pack of cowardly scoundrels. And with regard to the English
+country, it is na Scotland, it is true, but it has its gude
+properties; and, though there is ne'er a haggis in a' the land,
+there's an unco deal o' gowd and siller. I respect England, for I
+have an auntie married there.'
+
+The Scotch are certainly a most pugnacious people; their whole
+history proves it. Witness their incessant wars with the English
+in the olden time, and their internal feuds, highland and lowland,
+clan with clan, family with family, Saxon with Gael. In my time,
+the schoolboys, for want, perhaps, of English urchins to contend
+with, were continually fighting with each other; every noon there
+was at least one pugilistic encounter, and sometimes three. In one
+month I witnessed more of these encounters than I had ever
+previously seen under similar circumstances in England. After all,
+there was not much harm done. Harm! what harm could result from
+short chopping blows, a hug, and a tumble? I was witness to many a
+sounding whack, some blood shed, 'a blue ee' now and then, but
+nothing more. In England, on the contrary, where the lads were
+comparatively mild, gentle, and pacific, I had been present at more
+than one death caused by blows in boyish combats, in which the
+oldest of the victors had scarcely reached thirteen years; but
+these blows were in the jugular, given with the full force of the
+arm shot out horizontally from the shoulder.
+
+But the Scotch--though by no means proficients in boxing (and how
+should they box, seeing that they have never had a teacher?)--are,
+I repeat, a most pugnacious people; at least they were in my time.
+Anything served them, that is, the urchins, as a pretence for a
+fray, or, Dorically speaking, a BICKER; every street and close was
+at feud with its neighbour; the lads of the school were at feud
+with the young men of the college, whom they pelted in winter with
+snow, and in summer with stones; and then the feud between the old
+and new town!
+
+One day I was standing on the ramparts of the Castle on the south-
+western side which overhangs the green brae, where it slopes down
+into what was in those days the green swamp or morass, called by
+the natives of Auld Reekie the Nor Loch; it was a dark gloomy day,
+and a thin veil of mist was beginning to settle down upon the brae
+and the morass. I could perceive, however, that there was a
+skirmish taking place in the latter spot. I had an indistinct view
+of two parties--apparently of urchins--and I heard whoops and
+shrill cries: eager to know the cause of this disturbance, I left
+the Castle, and descending the brae reached the borders of the
+morass, where were a runnel of water and the remains of an old
+wall, on the other side of which a narrow path led across the
+swamp: upon this path at a little distance before me there was 'a
+bicker.' I pushed forward, but had scarcely crossed the ruined
+wall and runnel, when the party nearest to me gave way, and in
+great confusion came running in my direction. As they drew nigh,
+one of them shouted to me, 'Wha are ye, man? are ye o' the Auld
+Toon?' I made no answer. 'Ha! ye are o' the New Toon; De'il tak
+ye, we'll moorder ye'; and the next moment a huge stone sung past
+my head. 'Let me be, ye fule bodies,' said I, 'I'm no of either of
+ye, I live yonder aboon in the Castle.' 'Ah! ye live in the
+Castle; then ye're an auld tooner; come gie us your help, man, and
+dinna stand there staring like a dunnot, we want help sair eneugh.
+Here are stanes.'
+
+For my own part I wished for nothing better, and, rushing forward,
+I placed myself at the head of my new associates, and commenced
+flinging stones fast and desperately. The other party now gave way
+in their turn, closely followed by ourselves; I was in the van, and
+about to stretch out my hand to seize the hindermost boy of the
+enemy, when, not being acquainted with the miry and difficult paths
+of the Nor Loch, and in my eagerness taking no heed of my footing,
+I plunged into a quagmire, into which I sank as far as my
+shoulders. Our adversaries no sooner perceived this disaster,
+than, setting up a shout, they wheeled round and attacked us most
+vehemently. Had my comrades now deserted me, my life had not been
+worth a straw's purchase, I should either have been smothered in
+the quag, or, what is more probable, had my brains beaten out with
+stones; but they behaved like true Scots, and fought stoutly around
+their comrade, until I was extricated, whereupon both parties
+retired, the night being near at hand.
+
+'Ye are na a bad hand at flinging stanes,' said the lad who first
+addressed me, as we now returned up the brae; 'your aim is right
+dangerous, mon, I saw how ye skelpit them, ye maun help us agin
+thae New Toon blackguards at our next bicker.'
+
+So to the next bicker I went, and to many more, which speedily
+followed as the summer advanced; the party to which I had given my
+help on the first occasion consisted merely of outlyers, posted
+about half-way up the hill, for the purpose of overlooking the
+movements of the enemy.
+
+Did the latter draw nigh in any considerable force, messengers were
+forthwith despatched to the 'Auld Toon,' especially to the filthy
+alleys and closes of the High Street, which forthwith would
+disgorge swarms of bare-headed and bare-footed 'callants,' who,
+with gestures wild and 'eldrich screech and hollo,' might
+frequently be seen pouring down the sides of the hill. I have seen
+upwards of a thousand engaged on either side in these frays, which
+I have no doubt were full as desperate as the fights described in
+the Iliad, and which were certainly much more bloody than the
+combats of modern Greece in the war of independence: the callants
+not only employed their hands in hurling stones, but not
+unfrequently slings; at the use of which they were very expert, and
+which occasionally dislodged teeth, shattered jaws, or knocked out
+an eye. Our opponents certainly laboured under considerable
+disadvantage, being compelled not only to wade across a deceitful
+bog, but likewise to clamber up part of a steep hill, before they
+could attack us; nevertheless, their determination was such, and
+such their impetuosity, that we had sometimes difficulty enough to
+maintain our own. I shall never forget one bicker, the last indeed
+which occurred at that time, as the authorities of the town,
+alarmed by the desperation of its character, stationed forthwith a
+body of police on the hill-side, to prevent, in future, any such
+breaches of the peace.
+
+It was a beautiful Sunday evening, the rays of the descending sun
+were reflected redly from the gray walls of the Castle, and from
+the black rocks on which it was founded. The bicker had long since
+commenced, stones from sling and hand were flying; but the callants
+of the New Town were now carrying everything before them.
+
+A full-grown baker's apprentice was at their head; he was foaming
+with rage, and had taken the field, as I was told, in order to
+avenge his brother, whose eye had been knocked out in one of the
+late bickers. He was no slinger or flinger, but brandished in his
+right hand the spoke of a cart-wheel, like my countryman Tom
+Hickathrift of old in his encounter with the giant of the
+Lincolnshire fen. Protected by a piece of wicker-work attached to
+his left arm, he rushed on to the fray, disregarding the stones
+which were showered against him, and was ably seconded by his
+followers. Our own party was chased half-way up the hill, where I
+was struck to the ground by the baker, after having been foiled in
+an attempt which I had made to fling a handful of earth into his
+eyes. All now appeared lost, the Auld Toon was in full retreat. I
+myself lay at the baker's feet, who had just raised his spoke,
+probably to give me the coup de grace,--it was an awful moment.
+Just then I heard a shout and a rushing sound; a wild-looking
+figure is descending the hill with terrible bounds; it is a lad of
+some fifteen years; he is bare-headed, and his red uncombed hair
+stands on end like hedgehogs' bristles: his frame is lithy, like
+that of an antelope, but he has prodigious breadth of chest; he
+wears a military undress, that of the regiment, even of a drummer,
+for it is wild Davy, whom a month before I had seen enlisted on
+Leith Links to serve King George with drum and drumstick as long as
+his services might be required, and who, ere a week had elapsed,
+had smitten with his fist Drum-Major Elzigood, who, incensed at his
+inaptitude, had threatened him with his cane; he has been in
+confinement for weeks, this is the first day of his liberation, and
+he is now descending the hill with horrid bounds and shoutings; he
+is now about five yards distant, and the baker, who apprehends that
+something dangerous is at hand, prepares himself for the encounter;
+but what avails the strength of a baker, even full grown?--what
+avails the defence of a wicker shield?--what avails the wheel-
+spoke, should there be an opportunity of using it, against the
+impetus of an avalanche or a cannon-ball?--for to either of these
+might that wild figure be compared, which, at the distance of five
+yards, sprang at once with head, hands, feet and body, all
+together, upon the champion of the New Town, tumbling him to the
+earth amain. And now it was the turn of the Old Town to triumph.
+Our late discomfited host, returning on its steps, overwhelmed the
+fallen champion with blows of every kind, and then, led on by his
+vanquisher, who had assumed his arms, namely, the wheel-spoke and
+wicker shield, fairly cleared the brae of their adversaries, whom
+they drove down headlong into the morass.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+
+Expert climbers--The crags--Something red--The horrible edge--David
+Haggart--Fine materials--The greatest victory--Extraordinary
+robber--The ruling passion.
+
+Meanwhile I had become a daring cragsman, a character to which an
+English lad has seldom opportunities of aspiring; for in England
+there are neither crags nor mountains. Of these, however, as is
+well known, there is no lack in Scotland, and the habits of
+individuals are invariably in harmony with the country in which
+they dwell. The Scotch are expert climbers, and I was now a Scot
+in most things, particularly in language. The Castle in which I
+dwelt stood upon a rock, a bold and craggy one, which, at first
+sight, would seem to bid defiance to any feet save those of goats
+and chamois; but patience and perseverance generally enable mankind
+to overcome things which, at first sight, appear impossible.
+Indeed, what is there above man's exertions? Unwearied
+determination will enable him to run with the horse, to swim with
+the fish, and assuredly to compete with the chamois and the goat in
+agility and sureness of foot. To scale the rock was merely child's
+play for the Edinbro' callants. It was my own favourite diversion.
+I soon found that the rock contained all manner of strange crypts,
+crannies, and recesses, where owls nestled, and the weasel brought
+forth her young; here and there were small natural platforms,
+overgrown with long grass and various kinds of plants, where the
+climber, if so disposed, could stretch himself, and either give his
+eyes to sleep or his mind to thought; for capital places were these
+same platforms either for repose or meditation. The boldest
+features of the rock are descried on the northern side, where,
+after shelving down gently from the wall for some distance, it
+terminates abruptly in a precipice, black and horrible, of some
+three hundred feet at least, as if the axe of nature had been here
+employed cutting sheer down, and leaving behind neither excrescence
+nor spur--a dizzy precipice it is, assimilating much to those so
+frequent in the flinty hills of Northern Africa, and exhibiting
+some distant resemblance to that of Gibraltar, towering in its
+horridness above the Neutral Ground.
+
+It was now holiday time, and having nothing particular wherewith to
+occupy myself, I not unfrequently passed the greater part of the
+day upon the rocks. Once, after scaling the western crags, and
+creeping round a sharp angle of the wall, overhung by a kind of
+watch-tower, I found myself on the northern side. Still keeping
+close to the wall, I was proceeding onward, for I was bent upon a
+long excursion which should embrace half the circuit of the Castle,
+when suddenly my eye was attracted by the appearance of something
+red, far below me; I stopped short, and, looking fixedly upon it,
+perceived that it was a human being in a kind of red jacket, seated
+on the extreme verge of the precipice which I have already made a
+faint attempt to describe. Wondering who it could be, I shouted;
+but it took not the slightest notice, remaining as immovable as the
+rock on which it sat. 'I should never have thought of going near
+that edge,' said I to myself; 'however, as you have done it, why
+should not I? And I should like to know who you are.' So I
+commenced the descent of the rock, but with great care, for I had
+as yet never been in a situation so dangerous; a slight moisture
+exuded from the palms of my hands, my nerves were tingling, and my
+brain was somewhat dizzy--and now I had arrived within a few yards
+of the figure, and had recognised it: it was the wild drummer who
+had turned the tide of battle in the bicker on the Castle Brae. A
+small stone which I dislodged now rolled down the rock, and tumbled
+into the abyss close beside him. He turned his head, and after
+looking at me for a moment somewhat vacantly, he resumed his former
+attitude. I drew yet nearer to the horrible edge not close,
+however, for fear was on me.
+
+'What are you thinking of, David?' said I, as I sat behind him and
+trembled, for I repeat that I was afraid.
+
+David Haggart. I was thinking of Willie Wallace.
+
+Myself. You had better be thinking of yourself, man. A strange
+place this to come to and think of William Wallace.
+
+David Haggart. Why so? Is not his tower just beneath our feet?
+
+Myself. You mean the auld ruin by the side of the Nor Loch--the
+ugly stane bulk, from the foot of which flows the spring into the
+dyke where the watercresses grow?
+
+David Haggart. Just sae, Geordie.
+
+Myself. And why were ye thinking of him? The English hanged him
+long since, as I have heard say.
+
+David Haggart. I was thinking that I should wish to be like him.
+
+Myself. Do ye mean that ye would wish to be hanged?
+
+David Haggart. I wadna flinch from that, Geordie, if I might be a
+great man first.
+
+Myself. And wha kens, Davie, how great you may be, even without
+hanging? Are ye not in the high road of preferment? Are ye not a
+bauld drummer already? Wha kens how high ye may rise? perhaps to
+be general, or drum-major.
+
+David Haggart. I hae nae wish to be drum-major; it were nae great
+things to be like the doited carle, Else-than-gude, as they call
+him; and, troth, he has nae his name for naething. But I should
+have nae objection to be a general, and to fight the French and
+Americans, and win myself a name and a fame like Willie Wallace,
+and do brave deeds, such as I have been reading about in his story
+book.
+
+Myself. Ye are a fule, Davie; the story book is full of lies.
+Wallace, indeed! the wuddie rebel! I have heard my father say that
+the Duke of Cumberland was worth twenty of Willie Wallace.
+
+David Haggart. Ye had better sae naething agin Willie Wallace,
+Geordie, for, if ye do, De'il hae me, if I dinna tumble ye doon the
+craig.
+
+Fine materials in that lad for a hero, you will say. Yes, indeed,
+for a hero, or for what he afterwards became. In other times, and
+under other circumstances, he might have made what is generally
+termed a great man, a patriot, or a conqueror. As it was, the very
+qualities which might then have pushed him on to fortune and renown
+were the cause of his ruin. The war over, he fell into evil
+courses; for his wild heart and ambitious spirit could not brook
+the sober and quiet pursuits of honest industry.
+
+'Can an Arabian steed submit to be a vile drudge?' I cries the
+fatalist. Nonsense! A man is not an irrational creature, but a
+reasoning being, and has something within him beyond mere brutal
+instinct. The greatest victory which a man can achieve is over
+himself, by which is meant those unruly passions which are not
+convenient to the time and place. David did not do this; he gave
+the reins to his wild heart, instead of curbing it, and became a
+robber, and, alas! alas! he shed blood--under peculiar
+circumstances, it is true, and without malice prepense--and for
+that blood he eventually died, and justly; for it was that of the
+warden of a prison from which he was escaping, and whom he slew
+with one blow of his stalwart arm.
+
+Tamerlane and Haggart! Haggart and Tamerlane! Both these men were
+robbers, and of low birth, yet one perished on an ignoble scaffold,
+and the other died emperor of the world. Is this justice? The
+ends of the two men were widely dissimilar--yet what is the
+intrinsic difference between them? Very great indeed; the one
+acted according to his lights and his country, not so the other.
+Tamerlane was a heathen, and acted according to his lights; he was
+a robber where all around were robbers, but he became the avenger
+of God--God's scourge on unjust kings, on the cruel Bajazet, who
+had plucked out his own brothers' eyes; he became to a certain
+extent the purifier of the East, its regenerator; his equal never
+was before, nor has it since been seen. Here the wild heart was
+profitably employed, the wild strength, the teeming brain. Onward,
+Lame one! Onward, Tamur--lank! Haggart . . . .
+
+But peace to thee, poor David! why should a mortal worm be sitting
+in judgment over thee? The Mighty and Just One has already judged
+thee, and perhaps above thou hast received pardon for thy crimes,
+which could not be pardoned here below; and now that thy feverish
+existence has closed, and thy once active form become inanimate
+dust, thy very memory all but forgotten, I will say a few words
+about thee, a few words soon also to be forgotten. Thou wast the
+most extraordinary robber that ever lived within the belt of
+Britain; Scotland rang with thy exploits, and England, too, north
+of the Humber; strange deeds also didst thou achieve when, fleeing
+from justice, thou didst find thyself in the Sister Isle; busy wast
+thou there in town and on curragh, at fair and race-course, and
+also in the solitary place. Ireland thought thee her child, for
+who spoke her brogue better than thyself?--she felt proud of thee,
+and said, 'Sure, O'Hanlon is come again.' What might not have been
+thy fate in the far west in America, whither thou hadst turned
+thine eye, saying, 'I will go there, and become an honest man!'
+But thou wast not to go there, David--the blood which thou hadst
+shed in Scotland was to be required of thee; the avenger was at
+hand, the avenger of blood. Seized, manacled, brought back to thy
+native land, condemned to die, thou wast left in thy narrow cell,
+and told to make the most of thy time, for it was short: and
+there, in thy narrow cell, and thy time so short, thou didst put
+the crowning stone to thy strange deeds, by that strange history of
+thyself, penned by thy own hand in the robber tongue. Thou
+mightest have been better employed, David!--but the ruling passion
+was strong with thee, even in the jaws of death. Thou mightest
+have been better employed!--but peace be with thee, I repeat, and
+the Almighty's grace and pardon.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+
+Napoleon--The storm--The cove--Up the country--The trembling hand--
+Irish--Tough battle--Tipperary hills--Elegant lodgings--A speech--
+Fair specimen--Orangemen.
+
+Onward, onward! and after we had sojourned in Scotland nearly two
+years, the long continental war had been brought to an end,
+Napoleon was humbled for a time, and the Bourbons restored to a
+land which could well have dispensed with them; we returned to
+England, where the corps was disbanded, and my parents with their
+family retired to private life. I shall pass over in silence the
+events of a year, which offer little of interest as far as
+connected with me and mine. Suddenly, however, the sound of war
+was heard again, Napoleon had broken forth from Elba, and
+everything was in confusion. Vast military preparations were again
+made, our own corps was levied anew, and my brother became an
+officer in it; but the danger was soon over, Napoleon was once more
+quelled, and chained for ever, like Prometheus, to his rock. As
+the corps, however, though so recently levied, had already become a
+very fine one, thanks to my father's energetic drilling, the
+Government very properly determined to turn it to some account,
+and, as disturbances were apprehended in Ireland about this period,
+it occurred to them that they could do no better than despatch it
+to that country.
+
+In the autumn of the year 1815 we set sail from a port in Essex; we
+were some eight hundred strong, and were embarked in two ships,
+very large, but old and crazy; a storm overtook us when off Beachy
+Head, in which we had nearly foundered. I was awakened early in
+the morning by the howling of the wind and the uproar on deck. I
+kept myself close, however, as is still my constant practice on
+similar occasions, and waited the result with that apathy and
+indifference which violent sea-sickness is sure to produce. We
+shipped several seas, and once the vessel missing stays--which, to
+do it justice, it generally did at every third or fourth tack--we
+escaped almost by a miracle from being dashed upon the foreland.
+On the eighth day of our voyage we were in sight of Ireland. The
+weather was now calm and serene, the sun shone brightly on the sea
+and on certain green hills in the distance, on which I descried
+what at first sight I believed to be two ladies gathering flowers,
+which, however, on our nearer approach, proved to be two tall white
+towers, doubtless built for some purpose or other, though I did not
+learn for what.
+
+We entered a kind of bay, or cove, by a narrow inlet; it was a
+beautiful and romantic place this cove, very spacious, and, being
+nearly land-locked, was sheltered from every wind. A small island,
+every inch of which was covered with fortifications, appeared to
+swim upon the waters, whose dark blue denoted their immense depth;
+tall green hills, which ascended gradually from the shore, formed
+the background to the west; they were carpeted to the top with turf
+of the most vivid green, and studded here and there with woods,
+seemingly of oak; there was a strange old castle half-way up the
+ascent, a village on a crag--but the mists of morning were half
+veiling the scene when I surveyed it, and the mists of time are now
+hanging densely between it and my no longer youthful eye; I may not
+describe it;--nor will I try.
+
+Leaving the ship in the cove, we passed up a wide river in boats
+till we came to a city, where we disembarked. It was a large city,
+as large as Edinburgh to my eyes; there were plenty of fine houses,
+but little neatness; the streets were full of impurities; handsome
+equipages rolled along, but the greater part of the population were
+in rags; beggars abounded; there was no lack of merriment, however;
+boisterous shouts of laughter were heard on every side. It
+appeared a city of contradictions. After a few days' rest we
+marched from this place in two divisions. My father commanded the
+second, I walked by his side.
+
+Our route lay up the country; the country at first offered no very
+remarkable feature, it was pretty, but tame. On the second day,
+however, its appearance had altered, it had become more wild; a
+range of distant mountains bounded the horizon. We passed through
+several villages, as I suppose I may term them, of low huts, the
+walls formed of rough stones without mortar, the roof of flags laid
+over wattles and wicker-work; they seemed to be inhabited solely by
+women and children; the latter were naked, the former, in general,
+blear-eyed beldames, who sat beside the doors on low stools,
+spinning. We saw, however, both men and women working at a
+distance in the fields.
+
+I was thirsty; and going up to an ancient crone, employed in the
+manner which I have described, I asked her for water; she looked me
+in the face, appeared to consider a moment, then tottering into her
+hut, presently reappeared with a small pipkin of milk, which she
+offered to me with a trembling hand. I drank the milk; it was
+sour, but I found it highly refreshing. I then took out a penny
+and offered it to her, whereupon she shook her head, smiled, and,
+patting my face with her skinny hand, murmured some words in a
+tongue which I had never heard before.
+
+I walked on by my father's side, holding the stirrup-leather of his
+horse; presently several low uncouth cars passed by, drawn by
+starved cattle: the drivers were tall fellows, with dark features
+and athletic frames--they wore long loose blue cloaks with sleeves,
+which last, however, dangled unoccupied: these cloaks appeared in
+tolerably good condition, not so their under garments. On their
+heads were broad slouching hats: the generality of them were bare-
+footed. As they passed, the soldiers jested with them in the
+patois of East Anglia, whereupon the fellows laughed, and appeared
+to jest with the soldiers; but what they said who knows, it being
+in a rough guttural language, strange and wild. The soldiers
+stared at each other, and were silent.
+
+'A strange language that!' said a young officer to my father, 'I
+don't understand a word of it; what can it be?'
+
+'Irish!' said my father, with a loud voice, 'and a bad language it
+is, I have known it of old, that is, I have often heard it spoken
+when I was a guardsman in London. There's one part of London where
+all the Irish live--at least all the worst of them--and there they
+hatch their villainies and speak this tongue; it is that which
+keeps them together and makes them dangerous: I was once sent
+there to seize a couple of deserters--Irish--who had taken refuge
+amongst their companions; we found them in what was in my time
+called a ken, that is a house where only thieves and desperadoes
+are to be found. Knowing on what kind of business I was bound, I
+had taken with me a sergeant's party; it was well I did so. We
+found the deserters in a large room, with at least thirty ruffians,
+horrid-looking fellows, seated about a long table, drinking,
+swearing, and talking Irish. Ah! we had a tough battle, I
+remember; the two fellows did nothing, but sat still, thinking it
+best to be quiet; but the rest, with an ubbubboo like the blowing
+up of a powder-magazine, sprang up, brandishing their sticks; for
+these fellows always carry sticks with them even to bed, and not
+unfrequently spring up in their sleep, striking left and right.'
+
+'And did you take the deserters?' said the officer.
+
+'Yes,' said my father; 'for we formed at the end of the room, and
+charged with fixed bayonets, which compelled the others to yield
+notwithstanding their numbers; but the worst was when we got out
+into the street; the whole district had become alarmed, and
+hundreds came pouring down upon us--men, women, and children.
+Women, did I say!--they looked fiends, half naked, with their hair
+hanging down over their bosoms; they tore up the very pavement to
+hurl at us, sticks rang about our ears, stones, and Irish--I liked
+the Irish worst of all, it sounded so horrid, especially as I did
+not understand it. It's a bad language.'
+
+'A queer tongue,' said I; 'I wonder if I could learn it.'
+
+'Learn it!' said my father; 'what should you learn it for?--
+however, I am not afraid of that. It is not like Scotch, no person
+can learn it, save those who are born to it, and even in Ireland
+the respectable people do not speak it, only the wilder sort, like
+those we have passed.'
+
+Within a day or two we had reached a tall range of mountains
+running north and south, which I was told were those of Tipperary;
+along the skirts of these we proceeded till we came to a town, the
+principal one of these regions. It was on the bank of a beautiful
+river, which separated it from the mountains. It was rather an
+ancient place, and might contain some ten thousand inhabitants--I
+found that it was our destination; there were extensive barracks at
+the farther end, in which the corps took up its quarters; with
+respect to ourselves, we took lodgings in a house which stood in
+the principal street.
+
+'You never saw more elegant lodgings than these, captain,' said the
+master of the house, a tall, handsome, and athletic man, who came
+up whilst our little family were seated at dinner late in the
+afternoon of the day of our arrival; 'they beat anything in this
+town of Clonmel. I do not let them for the sake of interest, and
+to none but gentlemen in the army, in order that myself and my
+wife, who is from Londonderry, may have the advantage of pleasant
+company, genteel company; ay, and Protestant company, captain. It
+did my heart good when I saw your honour ride in at the head of all
+those fine fellows, real Protestants, I'll engage, not a Papist
+among them, they are too good-looking and honest-looking for that.
+So I no sooner saw your honour at the head of your army, with that
+handsome young gentleman holding by your stirrup, than I said to my
+wife, Mistress Hyne, who is from Londonderry, "God bless me," said
+I, "what a truly Protestant countenance, what a noble bearing, and
+what a sweet young gentleman. By the silver hairs of his honour"--
+and sure enough I never saw hairs more regally silver than those of
+your honour--"by his honour's gray silver hairs, and by my own
+soul, which is not worthy to be mentioned in the same day with one
+of them--it would be no more than decent and civil to run out and
+welcome such a father and son coming in at the head of such a
+Protestant military." And then my wife, who is from Londonderry,
+Mistress Hyne, looking me in the face like a fairy as she is, "You
+may say that," says she. "It would be but decent and civil,
+honey." And your honour knows how I ran out of my own door and
+welcomed your honour riding in company with your son, who was
+walking; how I welcomed ye both at the head of your royal regiment,
+and how I shook your honour by the hand, saying, I am glad to see
+your honour, and your honour's son, and your honour's royal
+military Protestant regiment. And now I have you in the house, and
+right proud I am to have ye one and all; one, two, three, four,
+true Protestants every one, no Papists here; and I have made bold
+to bring up a bottle of claret which is now waiting behind the
+door; and, when your honour and your family have dined, I will make
+bold too to bring up Mistress Hyne, from Londonderry, to introduce
+to your honour's lady, and then we'll drink to the health of King
+George, God bless him; to the "glorious and immortal"--to Boyne
+water--to your honour's speedy promotion to be Lord Lieutenant, and
+to the speedy downfall of the Pope and Saint Anthony of Padua.'
+
+Such was the speech of the Irish Protestant addressed to my father
+in the long lofty dining-room with three windows, looking upon the
+high street of the good town of Clonmel, as he sat at meat with his
+family, after saying grace like a true-hearted respectable soldier
+as he was.
+
+'A bigot and an Orangeman!' Oh yes! It is easier to apply
+epithets of opprobrium to people than to make yourself acquainted
+with their history and position. He was a specimen, and a fair
+specimen, of a most remarkable body of men, who during two
+centuries have fought a good fight in Ireland in the cause of
+civilisation and religious truth; they were sent as colonists, few
+in number, into a barbarous and unhappy country, where ever since,
+though surrounded with difficulties of every kind, they have
+maintained their ground; theirs has been no easy life, nor have
+their lines fallen upon very pleasant places; amidst darkness they
+have held up a lamp, and it would be well for Ireland were all her
+children like these her adopted ones. 'But they are fierce and
+sanguinary,' it is said. Ay, ay! they have not unfrequently
+opposed the keen sword to the savage pike. 'But they are bigoted
+and narrow-minded.' Ay, ay! they do not like idolatry, and will
+not bow the knee before a stone! 'But their language is frequently
+indecorous.' Go to, my dainty one, did ye ever listen to the voice
+of Papist cursing?
+
+The Irish Protestants have faults, numerous ones; but the greater
+number of these may be traced to the peculiar circumstances of
+their position: but they have virtues, numerous ones; and their
+virtues are their own, their industry, their energy, and their
+undaunted resolution are their own. They have been vilified and
+traduced--but what would Ireland be without them? I repeat, that
+it would be well for her were all her sons no worse than these
+much-calumniated children of her adoption.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+
+Protestant young gentlemen--The Greek letters--Open chimney--
+Murtagh--Paris and Salamanca--Nothing to do--To whit, to whoo!--The
+pack of cards--Before Christmas.
+
+We continued at this place for some months, during which time the
+soldiers performed their duties, whatever they were; and I, having
+no duties to perform, was sent to school. I had been to English
+schools, and to the celebrated one of Edinburgh; but my education,
+at the present day, would not be what it is--perfect, had I never
+had the honour of being alumnus in an Irish seminary.
+
+'Captain,' said our kind host, 'you would, no doubt, wish that the
+young gentleman should enjoy every advantage which the town may
+afford towards helping him on in the path of genteel learning.
+It's a great pity that he should waste his time in idleness--doing
+nothing else than what he says he has been doing for the last
+fortnight--fishing in the river for trouts which he never catches;
+and wandering up the glen in the mountain, in search of the hips
+that grow there. Now, we have a school here, where he can learn
+the most elegant Latin, and get an insight into the Greek letters,
+which is desirable; and where, moreover, he will have an
+opportunity of making acquaintance with all the Protestant young
+gentlemen of the place, the handsome well-dressed young persons
+whom your honour sees in the church on the Sundays, when your
+honour goes there in the morning, with the rest of the Protestant
+military; for it is no Papist school, though there may be a Papist
+or two there--a few poor farmers' sons from the country, with whom
+there is no necessity for your honour's child to form any
+acquaintance at all, at all!'
+
+And to the school I went, where I read the Latin tongue and the
+Greek letters, with a nice old clergyman, who sat behind a black
+oaken desk, with a huge Elzevir Flaccus before him, in a long
+gloomy kind of hall, with a broken stone floor, the roof festooned
+with cobwebs, the walls considerably dilapidated, and covered over
+with strange figures and hieroglyphics, evidently produced by the
+application of burnt stick; and there I made acquaintance with the
+Protestant young gentlemen of the place, who, with whatever eclat
+they might appear at church on a Sunday, did assuredly not exhibit
+to much advantage in the schoolroom on the week days, either with
+respect to clothes or looks. And there I was in the habit of
+sitting on a large stone, before the roaring fire in the huge open
+chimney, and entertaining certain of the Protestant young gentlemen
+of my own age, seated on similar stones, with extraordinary
+accounts of my own adventures, and those of the corps, with an
+occasional anecdote extracted from the story-books of Hickathrift
+and Wight Wallace, pretending to be conning the lesson all the
+while.
+
+And there I made acquaintance, notwithstanding the hint of the
+landlord, with the Papist 'gossoons,' as they were called, the
+farmers' sons from the country; and of these gossoons, of whom
+there were three, two might be reckoned as nothing at all; in the
+third, however, I soon discovered that there was something
+extraordinary.
+
+He was about sixteen years old, and above six feet high, dressed in
+a gray suit; the coat, from its size, appeared to have been made
+for him some ten years before. He was remarkably narrow-chested
+and round-shouldered, owing, perhaps as much to the tightness of
+his garment as to the hand of nature. His face was long, and his
+complexion swarthy, relieved, however, by certain freckles, with
+which the skin was plentifully studded. He had strange wandering
+eyes, gray, and somewhat unequal in size; they seldom rested on the
+book, but were generally wandering about the room, from one object
+to another. Sometimes he would fix them intently on the wall, and
+then suddenly starting, as if from a reverie, he would commence
+making certain mysterious movements with his thumbs and
+forefingers, as if he were shuffling something from him.
+
+One morning, as he sat by himself on a bench, engaged in this
+manner, I went up to him, and said, 'Good-day, Murtagh; you do not
+seem to have much to do?'
+
+'Faith, you may say that, Shorsha dear!--it is seldom much to do
+that I have.'
+
+'And what are you doing with your hands?'
+
+'Faith, then, if I must tell you, I was e'en dealing with the
+cards.'
+
+'Do you play much at cards?'
+
+'Sorra a game, Shorsha, have I played with the cards since my uncle
+Phelim, the thief, stole away the ould pack, when he went to settle
+in the county Waterford!'
+
+'But you have other things to do?'
+
+'Sorra anything else has Murtagh to do that he cares about and that
+makes me dread so going home at nights.'
+
+'I should like to know all about you; where do you live, joy?'
+
+'Faith, then, ye shall know all about me, and where I live. It is
+at a place called the Wilderness that I live, and they call it so,
+because it is a fearful wild place, without any house near it but
+my father's own; and that's where I live when at home.'
+
+'And your father is a farmer, I suppose?'
+
+'You may say that; and it is a farmer I should have been, like my
+brother Denis, had not my uncle Phelim, the thief, tould my father
+to send me to school, to learn Greek letters, that I might be made
+a saggart of, and sent to Paris and Salamanca.'
+
+'And you would rather be a farmer than a priest?'
+
+'You may say that!--for, were I a farmer, like the rest, I should
+have something to do, like the rest--something that I cared for--
+and I should come home tired at night, and fall asleep, as the rest
+do, before the fire; but when I comes home at night I am not tired,
+for I have been doing nothing all day that I care for; and then I
+sits down and stares about me, and at the fire, till I become
+frighted; and then I shouts to my brother Denis, or to the
+gossoons, "Get up, I say, and let's be doing something; tell us the
+tale of Finn-ma-Coul, and how he lay down in the Shannon's bed, and
+let the river flow down his jaws!" Arrah, Shorsha! I wish you
+would come and stay with us, and tell us some o' your sweet stories
+of your own self and the snake ye carried about wid ye. Faith,
+Shorsha dear! that snake bates anything about Finn-ma-Coul or Brian
+Boroo, the thieves two, bad luck to them!'
+
+'And do they get up and tell you stories?'
+
+'Sometimes they does, but oftenmost they curses me, and bids me be
+quiet! But I can't be quiet, either before the fire or abed; so I
+runs out of the house, and stares at the rocks, at the trees, and
+sometimes at the clouds, as they run a race across the bright moon;
+and, the more I stares, the more frighted I grows, till I screeches
+and holloas. And last night I went into the barn, and hid my face
+in the straw; and there, as I lay and shivered in the straw, I
+heard a voice above my head singing out "To whit, to whoo!" and
+then up I starts, and runs into the house, and falls over my
+brother Denis, as he lies at the fire. "What's that for?" says he.
+"Get up, you thief!" says I, "and be helping me. I have been out
+into the barn, and an owl has crow'd at me!"'
+
+'And what has this to do with playing cards?'
+
+'Little enough, Shorsha dear!--If there were card-playing, I should
+not be frighted.'
+
+'And why do you not play at cards?'
+
+'Did I not tell you that the thief, my uncle Phelim, stole away the
+pack? If we had the pack, my brother Denis and the gossoons would
+be ready enough to get up from their sleep before the fire, and
+play cards with me for ha'pence, or eggs, or nothing at all; but
+the pack is gone--bad luck to the thief who took it!'
+
+'And why don't you buy another?'
+
+'Is it of buying you are speaking? And where am I to get the
+money?'
+
+'Ah! that's another thing!'
+
+'Faith it is, honey!--And now the Christmas holidays is coming,
+when I shall be at home by day as well as night, and then what am I
+to do? Since I have been a saggarting, I have been good for
+nothing at all--neither for work nor Greek--only to play cards!
+Faith, it's going mad I will be!'
+
+'I say, Murtagh!'
+
+'Yes, Shorsha dear!'
+
+'I have a pack of cards.'
+
+'You don't say so, Shorsha ma vourneen?--you don't say that you
+have cards fifty-two?'
+
+'I do, though; and they are quite new--never been once used.'
+
+'And you'll be lending them to me, I warrant?'
+
+'Don't think it!--But I'll sell them to you, joy, if you like.'
+
+'Hanam mon Dioul! am I not after telling you that I have no money
+at all!'
+
+'But you have as good as money, to me, at least; and I'll take it
+in exchange.'
+
+'What's that, Shorsha dear?'
+
+'Irish!'
+
+'Irish?'
+
+'Yes, you speak Irish; I heard you talking it the other day to the
+cripple. You shall teach me Irish.'
+
+'And is it a language-master you'd be making of me?'
+
+'To be sure!--what better can you do?--it would help you to pass
+your time at school. You can't learn Greek, so you must teach
+Irish!'
+
+Before Christmas, Murtagh was playing at cards with his brother
+Denis, and I could speak a considerable quantity of broken Irish.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+
+Templemore--Devil's Mountain--No companion--Force of circumstance--
+Way of the world--Ruined castle--Grim and desolate--The donjon--Old
+woman--My own house.
+
+When Christmas was over, and the new year commenced, we broke up
+our quarters, and marched away to Templemore. This was a large
+military station, situated in a wild and thinly inhabited country.
+Extensive bogs were in the neighbourhood, connected with the huge
+bog of Allen, the Palus Maeotis of Ireland. Here and there was
+seen a ruined castle looming through the mists of winter; whilst,
+at the distance of seven miles, rose a singular mountain,
+exhibiting in its brow a chasm, or vacuum, just, for all the world,
+as if a piece had been bitten out; a feat which, according to the
+tradition of the country, had actually been performed by his
+Satanic majesty, who, after flying for some leagues with the morsel
+in his mouth, becoming weary, dropped it in the vicinity of Cashel,
+where it may now be seen in the shape of a bold bluff hill, crowned
+with the ruins of a stately edifice, probably built by some ancient
+Irish king.
+
+We had been here only a few days, when my brother, who, as I have
+before observed, had become one of his Majesty's officers, was sent
+on detachment to a village at about ten miles' distance. He was
+not sixteen, and, though three years older than myself, scarcely my
+equal in stature, for I had become tall and large-limbed for my
+age; but there was a spirit in him which would not have disgraced a
+general; and, nothing daunted at the considerable responsibility
+which he was about to incur, he marched sturdily out of the
+barrack-yard at the head of his party, consisting of twenty light-
+infantry men, and a tall grenadier sergeant, selected expressly by
+my father, for the soldier-like qualities which he possessed, to
+accompany his son on this his first expedition. So out of the
+barrack-yard, with something of an air, marched my dear brother,
+his single drum and fife playing the inspiring old melody,
+
+
+Marlbrouk is gone to the wars,
+He'll never return no more!
+
+
+I soon missed my brother, for I was now alone, with no being, at
+all assimilating in age, with whom I could exchange a word. Of
+late years, from being almost constantly at school, I had cast
+aside, in a great degree, my unsocial habits and natural reserve,
+but in the desolate region in which we now were there was no
+school; and I felt doubly the loss of my brother, whom, moreover, I
+tenderly loved for his own sake. Books I had none, at least such
+'as I cared about'; and with respect to the old volume, the wonders
+of which had first beguiled me into common reading, I had so
+frequently pored over its pages, that I had almost got its contents
+by heart. I was therefore in danger of falling into the same
+predicament as Murtagh, becoming 'frighted' from having nothing to
+do! Nay, I had not even his resources; I cared not for cards, even
+if I possessed them and could find people disposed to play with
+them. However, I made the most of circumstances, and roamed about
+the desolate fields and bogs in the neighbourhood, sometimes
+entering the cabins of the peasantry, with a 'God's blessing upon
+you, good people!' where I would take my seat on the 'stranger's
+stone' at the corner of the hearth, and, looking them full in the
+face, would listen to the carles and carlines talking Irish.
+
+Ah, that Irish! How frequently do circumstances, at first sight
+the most trivial and unimportant, exercise a mighty and permanent
+influence on our habits and pursuits!--how frequently is a stream
+turned aside from its natural course by some little rock or knoll,
+causing it to make an abrupt turn! On a wild road in Ireland I had
+heard Irish spoken for the first time; and I was seized with a
+desire to learn Irish, the acquisition of which, in my case, became
+the stepping-stone to other languages. I had previously learnt
+Latin, or rather Lilly; but neither Latin nor Lilly made me a
+philologist. I had frequently heard French and other languages,
+but had felt little desire to become acquainted with them; and
+what, it may be asked, was there connected with the Irish
+calculated to recommend it to my attention?
+
+First of all, and principally, I believe, the strangeness and
+singularity of its tones; then there was something mysterious and
+uncommon associated with its use. It was not a school language, to
+acquire which was considered an imperative duty; no, no; nor was it
+a drawing-room language, drawled out occasionally, in shreds and
+patches, by the ladies of generals and other great dignitaries, to
+the ineffable dismay of poor officers' wives. Nothing of the kind;
+but a speech spoken in out-of-the-way desolate places, and in cut-
+throat kens, where thirty ruffians, at the sight of the king's
+minions, would spring up with brandished sticks and an 'ubbubboo
+like the blowing up of a powder-magazine.' Such were the points
+connected with the Irish, which first awakened in my mind the
+desire of acquiring it; and by acquiring it I became, as I have
+already said, enamoured of languages. Having learnt one by choice,
+I speedily, as the reader will perceive, learnt others, some of
+which were widely different from Irish.
+
+Ah, that Irish! I am much indebted to it in more ways than one.
+But I am afraid I have followed the way of the world, which is very
+much wont to neglect original friends and benefactors. I
+frequently find myself, at present, turning up my nose at Irish
+when I hear it in the street; yet I have still a kind of regard for
+it, the fine old language:
+
+
+A labhair Padruic n'insefail nan riogh.
+
+
+One of the most peculiar features of this part of Ireland is the
+ruined castles, which are so thick and numerous that the face of
+the country appears studded with them, it being difficult to choose
+any situation from which one, at least, may not be descried. They
+are of various ages and styles of architecture, some of great
+antiquity, like the stately remains which crown the Crag of Cashel;
+others built by the early English conquerors; others, and probably
+the greater part, erections of the times of Elizabeth and Cromwell.
+The whole speaking monuments of the troubled and insecure state of
+the country, from the most remote periods to a comparatively modern
+time.
+
+From the windows of the room where I slept I had a view of one of
+these old places--an indistinct one, it is true, the distance being
+too great to permit me to distinguish more than the general
+outline. I had an anxious desire to explore it. It stood to the
+south-east; in which direction, however, a black bog intervened,
+which had more than once baffled all my attempts to cross it. One
+morning, however, when the sun shone brightly upon the old
+building, it appeared so near, that I felt ashamed at not being
+able to accomplish a feat seemingly so easy; I determined,
+therefore, upon another trial. I reached the bog, and was about to
+venture upon its black surface, and to pick my way amongst its
+innumerable holes, yawning horribly, and half filled with water
+black as soot, when it suddenly occurred to me that there was a
+road to the south, by following which I might find a more
+convenient route to the object of my wishes. The event justified
+my expectations, for, after following the road for some three
+miles, seemingly in the direction of the Devil's Mountain, I
+suddenly beheld the castle on my left.
+
+I diverged from the road, and, crossing two or three fields, came
+to a small grassy plain, in the midst of which stood the castle.
+About a gun-shot to the south was a small village, which had,
+probably, in ancient days, sprung up beneath its protection. A
+kind of awe came over me as I approached the old building. The sun
+no longer shone upon it, and it looked so grim, so desolate and
+solitary; and here was I, in that wild country, alone with that
+grim building before me. The village was within sight, it is true;
+but it might be a village of the dead for what I knew; no sound
+issued from it, no smoke was rising from its roofs, neither man nor
+beast was visible, no life, no motion--it looked as desolate as the
+castle itself. Yet I was bent on the adventure, and moved on
+towards the castle across the green plain, occasionally casting a
+startled glance around me; and now I was close to it.
+
+It was surrounded by a quadrangular wall, about ten feet in height,
+with a square tower at each corner. At first I could discover no
+entrance; walking round, however, to the northern side, I found a
+wide and lofty gateway with a tower above it, similar to those at
+the angles of the wall; on this side the ground sloped gently down
+towards the bog, which was here skirted by an abundant growth of
+copse-wood and a few evergreen oaks. I passed through the gateway,
+and found myself within a square inclosure of about two acres. On
+one side rose a round and lofty keep, or donjon, with a conical
+roof, part of which had fallen down, strewing the square with its
+ruins. Close to the keep, on the other side, stood the remains of
+an oblong house, built something in the modern style, with various
+window-holes; nothing remained but the bare walls and a few
+projecting stumps of beams, which seemed to have been half burnt.
+The interior of the walls was blackened, as if by fire; fire also
+appeared at one time to have raged out of the window-holes, for the
+outside about them was black, portentously so. 'I wonder what has
+been going on here?' I exclaimed.
+
+There were echoes among the walls as I walked about the court. I
+entered the keep by a low and frowning doorway: the lower floor
+consisted of a large dungeon-like room, with a vaulted roof; on the
+left hand was a winding staircase in the thickness of the wall; it
+looked anything but inviting; yet I stole softly up, my heart
+beating. On the top of the first flight of stairs was an arched
+doorway, to the left was a dark passage, to the right, stairs
+leading still higher. I stepped under the arch and found myself in
+an apartment somewhat similar to the one below, but higher. There
+was an object at the farther end.
+
+An old woman, at least eighty, was seated on a stone, cowering over
+a few sticks burning feebly on what had once been a right noble and
+cheerful hearth; her side-glance was towards the doorway as I
+entered, for she had heard my foot-steps. I stood suddenly still,
+and her haggard glance rested on my face.
+
+'Is this your house, mother?' I at length demanded, in the language
+which I thought she would best understand.
+
+'Yes, my house, my own house; the house of the broken-hearted.'
+
+'Any other person's house?' I demanded.
+
+'My own house, the beggar's house--the accursed house of Cromwell!'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+
+A visit--Figure of a man--The dog of peace--The raw wound--The
+guardroom--Boy soldier--Person in authority--Never solitary--
+Clergyman and family--Still-hunting--Fairy man--Near sunset--Bagg--
+Left-handed hitter--Irish and supernatural--At Swanton Morley.
+
+One morning I set out, designing to pay a visit to my brother at
+the place where he was detached; the distance was rather
+considerable, yet I hoped to be back by evening fall, for I was now
+a shrewd walker, thanks to constant practice. I set out early,
+and, directing my course towards the north, I had in less than two
+hours accomplished considerably more than half of the journey. The
+weather had at first been propitious: a slight frost had rendered
+the ground firm to the tread, and the skies were clear; but now a
+change came over the scene, the skies darkened, and a heavy
+snowstorm came on; the road then lay straight through a bog, and
+was bounded by a deep trench on both sides; I was making the best
+of my way, keeping as nearly as I could in the middle of the road,
+lest, blinded by the snow which was frequently borne into my eyes
+by the wind, I might fall into the dyke, when all at once I heard a
+shout to windward, and turning my eyes I saw the figure of a man,
+and what appeared to be an animal of some kind, coming across the
+bog with great speed, in the direction of myself; the nature of the
+ground seemed to offer but little impediment to these beings, both
+clearing the holes and abysses which lay in their way with
+surprising agility; the animal was, however, some slight way in
+advance, and, bounding over the dyke, appeared on the road just
+before me. It was a dog, of what species I cannot tell, never
+having seen the like before or since; the head was large and round;
+the ears so tiny as scarcely to be discernible; the eyes of a fiery
+red: in size it was rather small than large; and the coat, which
+was remarkably smooth, as white as the falling flakes. It placed
+itself directly in my path, and showing its teeth, and bristling
+its coat, appeared determined to prevent my progress. I had an
+ashen stick in my hand, with which I threatened it; this, however,
+only served to increase its fury; it rushed upon me, and I had the
+utmost difficulty to preserve myself from its fangs.
+
+'What are you doing with the dog, the fairy dog?' said a man, who
+at this time likewise cleared the dyke at a bound.
+
+He was a very tall man, rather well dressed as it should seem; his
+garments, however, were, like my own, so covered with snow that I
+could scarcely discern their quality.
+
+'What are ye doing with the dog of peace?'
+
+'I wish he would show himself one,' said I; 'I said nothing to him,
+but he placed himself in my road, and would not let me pass.'
+
+'Of course he would not be letting you till he knew where ye were
+going.'
+
+'He's not much of a fairy,' said I, 'or he would know that without
+asking; tell him that I am going to see my brother.'
+
+'And who is your brother, little Sas?'
+
+'What my father is, a royal soldier.'
+
+'Oh, ye are going then to the detachment at--; by my shoul, I have
+a good mind to be spoiling your journey.'
+
+'You are doing that already,' said I, 'keeping me here talking
+about dogs and fairies; you had better go home and get some salve
+to cure that place over your eye; it's catching cold you'll be, in
+so much snow.'
+
+On one side of the man's forehead there was a raw and staring
+wound, as if from a recent and terrible blow.
+
+'Faith, then I'll be going, but it's taking you wid me I will be.'
+
+'And where will you take me?'
+
+'Why, then, to Ryan's Castle, little Sas.'
+
+'You do not speak the language very correctly,' said I; 'it is not
+Sas you should call me--'tis Sassannach,' and forthwith I
+accompanied the word with a speech full of flowers of Irish
+rhetoric.
+
+The man looked upon me for a moment, fixedly, then, bending his
+head towards his breast, he appeared to be undergoing a kind of
+convulsion, which was accompanied by a sound something resembling
+laughter; presently he looked at me, and there was a broad grin on
+his features.
+
+'By my shoul, it's a thing of peace I'm thinking ye.'
+
+But now with a whisking sound came running down the road a hare; it
+was nearly upon us before it perceived us; suddenly stopping short,
+however, it sprang into the bog on the right-hand side; after it
+amain bounded the dog of peace, followed by the man, but not until
+he had nodded to me a farewell salutation. In a few moments I lost
+sight of him amidst the snowflakes.
+
+The weather was again clear and fine before I reached the place of
+detachment. It was a little wooden barrack, surrounded by a wall
+of the same material; a sentinel stood at the gate, I passed by
+him, and, entering the building, found myself in a rude kind of
+guardroom; several soldiers were lying asleep on a wooden couch at
+one end, others lounged on benches by the side of a turf fire. The
+tall sergeant stood before the fire, holding a cooking utensil in
+his left hand; on seeing me, he made the military salutation.
+
+'Is my brother here?' said I, rather timidly, dreading to hear that
+he was out, perhaps for the day.
+
+'The ensign is in his room, sir,' said Bagg, 'I am now preparing
+his meal, which will presently be ready; you will find the ensign
+above stairs,' and he pointed to a broken ladder which led to some
+place above.
+
+And there I found him--the boy soldier--in a kind of upper loft, so
+low that I could touch with my hands the sooty rafters; the floor
+was of rough boards, through the joints of which you could see the
+gleam of the soldiers' fire, and occasionally discern their figures
+as they moved about; in one corner was a camp bedstead, by the side
+of which hung the child's sword, gorget, and sash; a deal table
+stood in the proximity of the rusty grate, where smoked and
+smouldered a pile of black turf from the bog,--a deal table without
+a piece of baize to cover it, yet fraught with things not devoid of
+interest: a Bible, given by a mother; the Odyssey, the Greek
+Odyssey; a flute, with broad silver keys; crayons, moreover, and
+water-colours; and a sketch of a wild prospect near, which, though
+but half finished, afforded ample proof of the excellence and skill
+of the boyish hand now occupied upon it.
+
+Ah! he was a sweet being, that boy soldier, a plant of early
+promise, bidding fair to become in after time all that is great,
+good, and admirable. I have read of a remarkable Welshman, of whom
+it was said, when the grave closed over him, that he could frame a
+harp, and play it; build a ship, and sail it; compose an ode, and
+set it to music. A brave fellow that son of Wales--but I had once
+a brother who could do more and better than this, but the grave has
+closed over him, as over the gallant Welshman of yore; there are
+now but two that remember him--the one who bore him, and the being
+who was nurtured at the same breast. He was taken, and I was
+left!--Truly, the ways of Providence are inscrutable.
+
+'You seem to be very comfortable, John,' said I, looking around the
+room and at the various objects which I have described above: 'you
+have a good roof over your head, and have all your things about
+you.'
+
+'Yes, I am very comfortable, George, in many respects; I am,
+moreover, independent, and feel myself a man for the first time in
+my life--independent did I say?--that's not the word, I am
+something much higher than that; here am I, not sixteen yet, a
+person in authority, like the centurion in the book there, with
+twenty Englishmen under me, worth a whole legion of his men, and
+that fine fellow Bagg to wait upon me, and take my orders. Oh!
+these last six weeks have passed like hours of heaven.'
+
+'But your time must frequently hang heavy on your hands; this is a
+strange wild place, and you must be very solitary?'
+
+'I am never solitary; I have, as you see, all my things about me,
+and there is plenty of company below stairs. Not that I mix with
+the soldiers; if I did, good-bye to my authority; but when I am
+alone I can hear all their discourse through the planks, and I
+often laugh to myself at the funny things they say.'
+
+'And have you any acquaintance here?'
+
+'The very best; much better than the Colonel and the rest, at their
+grand Templemore; I had never so many in my whole life before. One
+has just left me, a gentleman who lives at a distance across the
+bog; he comes to talk with me about Greek, and the Odyssey, for he
+is a very learned man, and understands the old Irish, and various
+other strange languages. He has had a dispute with Bagg. On
+hearing his name, he called him to him, and, after looking at him
+for some time with great curiosity, said that he was sure he was a
+Dane. Bagg, however, took the compliment in dudgeon, and said that
+he was no more a Dane than himself, but a true-born Englishman, and
+a sergeant of six years' standing.'
+
+'And what other acquaintance have you?'
+
+'All kinds; the whole neighbourhood can't make enough of me.
+Amongst others there's the clergyman of the parish and his family;
+such a venerable old man, such fine sons and daughters! I am
+treated by them like a son and a brother--I might be always with
+them if I pleased; there's one drawback, however, in going to see
+them; there's a horrible creature in the house, a kind of tutor,
+whom they keep more from charity than anything else; he is a Papist
+and, they say, a priest; you should see him scowl sometimes at my
+red coat, for he hates the king, and not unfrequently, when the
+king's health is drunk, curses him between his teeth. I once got
+up to strike him; but the youngest of the sisters, who is the
+handsomest, caught my arm and pointed to her forehead.'
+
+'And what does your duty consist of? Have you nothing else to do
+than pay visits and receive them?'
+
+'We do what is required of us, we guard this edifice, perform our
+evolutions, and help the excise; I am frequently called up in the
+dead of night to go to some wild place or other in quest of an
+illicit still; this last part of our duty is poor mean work, I
+don't like it, nor more does Bagg; though without it we should not
+see much active service, for the neighbourhood is quiet; save the
+poor creatures with their stills, not a soul is stirring. 'Tis
+true there's Jerry Grant.'
+
+'And who is Jerry Grant?'
+
+'Did you never hear of him? that's strange, the whole country is
+talking about him; he is a kind of outlaw, rebel, or robber, all
+three I daresay; there's a hundred pounds offered for his head.'
+
+'And where does he live?'
+
+'His proper home, they say, is in the Queen's County, where he has
+a band, but he is a strange fellow, fond of wandering about by
+himself amidst the bogs and mountains, and living in the old
+castles; occasionally he quarters himself in the peasants' houses,
+who let him do just what he pleases; he is free of his money, and
+often does them good turns, and can be good-humoured enough, so
+they don't dislike him. Then he is what they call a fairy man, a
+person in league with fairies and spirits, and able to work much
+harm by supernatural means, on which account they hold him in great
+awe; he is, moreover, a mighty strong and tall fellow. Bagg has
+seen him.'
+
+'Has he?'
+
+'Yes! and felt him; he too is a strange one. A few days ago he was
+told that Grant had been seen hovering about an old castle some two
+miles off in the bog; so one afternoon what does he do but, without
+saying a word to me--for which, by the bye, I ought to put him
+under arrest, though what I should do without Bagg I have no idea
+whatever--what does he do but walk off to the castle, intending, as
+I suppose, to pay a visit to Jerry. He had some difficulty in
+getting there on account of the turf-holes in the bog, which he was
+not accustomed to; however, thither at last he got and went in. It
+was a strange lonesome place, he says, and he did not much like the
+look of it; however, in he went, and searched about from the bottom
+to the top and down again, but could find no one; he shouted and
+hallooed, but nobody answered, save the rooks and choughs, which
+started up in great numbers. "I have lost my trouble," said Bagg,
+and left the castle. It was now late in the afternoon, near
+sunset, when about half-way over the bog he met a man--'
+
+'And that man was--'
+
+'Jerry Grant! there's no doubt of it. Bagg says it was the most
+sudden thing in the world. He was moving along, making the best of
+his way, thinking of nothing at all save a public-house at Swanton
+Morley, which he intends to take when he gets home, and the
+regiment is disbanded--though I hope that will not be for some time
+yet: he had just leaped a turf-hole, and was moving on, when, at
+the distance of about six yards before him, he saw a fellow coming
+straight towards him. Bagg says that he stopped short, as suddenly
+as if he had heard the word halt, when marching at double quick
+time. It was quite a surprise, he says, and he can't imagine how
+the fellow was so close upon him before he was aware. He was an
+immense tall fellow--Bagg thinks at least two inches taller than
+himself--very well dressed in a blue coat and buff breeches, for
+all the world like a squire when going out hunting. Bagg, however,
+saw at once that he had a roguish air, and he was on his guard in a
+moment. "Good-evening to ye, sodger," says the fellow, stepping
+close up to Bagg, and staring him in the face. "Good-evening to
+you, sir! I hope you are well," says Bagg. "You are looking after
+some one?" says the fellow. "Just so, sir," says Bagg, and
+forthwith seized him by the collar; the man laughed, Bagg says it
+was such a strange awkward laugh. "Do you know whom you have got
+hold of, sodger?" said he. "I believe I do, sir," said Bagg, "and
+in that belief will hold you fast in the name of King George and
+the quarter sessions"; the next moment he was sprawling with his
+heels in the air. Bagg says there was nothing remarkable in that;
+he was only flung by a kind of wrestling trick, which he could
+easily have baffled had he been aware of it. "You will not do that
+again, sir," said he, as he got up and put himself on his guard.
+The fellow laughed again more strangely and awkwardly than before;
+then, bending his body and moving his head from one side to the
+other as a cat does before she springs, and crying out, "Here's for
+ye, sodger!" he made a dart at Bagg, rushing in with his head
+foremost. "That will do, sir," says Bagg, and, drawing himself
+back, he put in a left-handed blow with all the force of his body
+and arm, just over the fellow's right eye--Bagg is a left-handed
+hitter, you must know--and it was a blow of that kind which won him
+his famous battle at Edinburgh with the big Highland sergeant.
+Bagg says that he was quite satisfied with the blow, more
+especially when he saw the fellow reel, fling out his arms, and
+fall to the ground. "And now, sir," said he, "I'll make bold to
+hand you over to the quarter sessions, and, if there is a hundred
+pounds for taking you, who has more right to it than myself?" So
+he went forward, but ere he could lay hold of his man the other was
+again on his legs, and was prepared to renew the combat. They
+grappled each other--Bagg says he had not much fear of the result,
+as he now felt himself the best man, the other seeming half-stunned
+with the blow--but just then there came on a blast, a horrible
+roaring wind bearing night upon its wings, snow, and sleet, and
+hail. Bagg says he had the fellow by the throat quite fast, as he
+thought, but suddenly he became bewildered, and knew not where he
+was; and the man seemed to melt away from his grasp, and the wind
+howled more and more, and the night poured down darker and darker;
+the snow and the sleet thicker and more blinding. "Lord have mercy
+upon us!" said Bagg.'
+
+Myself. A strange adventure that; it is well that Bagg got home
+alive.
+
+John. He says that the fight was a fair fight, and that the fling
+he got was a fair fling, the result of a common enough wrestling
+trick. But with respect to the storm, which rose up just in time
+to save the fellow, he is of opinion that it was not fair, but
+something Irish and supernatural.
+
+Myself. I daresay he's right. I have read of witchcraft in the
+Bible.
+
+John. He wishes much to have one more encounter with the fellow;
+he says that on fair ground, and in fine weather, he has no doubt
+that he could master him, and hand him over to the quarter
+sessions. He says that a hundred pounds would be no bad thing to
+be disbanded upon; for he wishes to take an inn at Swanton Morley,
+keep a cock-pit, and live respectably.
+
+Myself. He is quite right; and now kiss me, my darling brother,
+for I must go back through the bog to Templemore.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+
+Groom and cob--Strength and symmetry--Where's the saddle?--The
+first ride--No more fatigue--Love for horses--Pursuit of words--
+Philologist and Pegasus--The smith--What more, agrah?--Sassannach
+tenpence.
+
+And it came to pass that, as I was standing by the door of the
+barrack stable, one of the grooms came out to me, saying, 'I say,
+young gentleman, I wish you would give the cob a breathing this
+fine morning.'
+
+'Why do you wish me to mount him?' said I; 'you know he is
+dangerous. I saw him fling you off his back only a few days ago.'
+
+'Why, that's the very thing, master. I'd rather see anybody on his
+back than myself; he does not like me; but, to them he does, he can
+be as gentle as a lamb.'
+
+'But suppose,' said I, 'that he should not like me?'
+
+'We shall soon see that, master,' said the groom; 'and, if so be he
+shows temper, I will be the first to tell you to get down. But
+there's no fear of that; you have never angered or insulted him,
+and to such as you, I say again, he'll be as gentle as a lamb.'
+
+'And how came you to insult him,' said I, 'knowing his temper as
+you do?'
+
+'Merely through forgetfulness, master: I was riding him about a
+month ago, and having a stick in my hand, I struck him, thinking I
+was on another horse, or rather thinking of nothing at all. He has
+never forgiven me, though before that time he was the only friend I
+had in the world; I should like to see you on him, master.'
+
+'I should soon be off him; I can't ride.'
+
+'Then you are all right, master; there's no fear. Trust him for
+not hurting a young gentleman, an officer's son, who can't ride.
+If you were a blackguard dragoon, indeed, with long spurs, 'twere
+another thing; as it is, he'll treat you as if he were the elder
+brother that loves you. Ride! He'll soon teach you to ride if you
+leave the matter with him. He's the best riding-master in all
+Ireland, and the gentlest.'
+
+The cob was led forth; what a tremendous creature! I had
+frequently seen him before, and wondered at him; he was barely
+fifteen hands, but he had the girth of a metropolitan dray-horse;
+his head was small in comparison with his immense neck, which
+curved down nobly to his wide back: his chest was broad and fine,
+and his shoulders models of symmetry and strength; he stood well
+and powerfully upon his legs, which were somewhat short. In a
+word, he was a gallant specimen of the genuine Irish cob, a species
+at one time not uncommon, but at the present day nearly extinct.
+
+'There!' said the groom, as he looked at him, half admiringly, half
+sorrowfully, 'with sixteen stone on his back, he'll trot fourteen
+miles in one hour, with your nine stone, some two and a half more
+ay, and clear a six-foot wall at the end of it.'
+
+'I'm half afraid,' said I; 'I had rather you would ride him.'
+
+'I'd rather so, too, if he would let me; but he remembers the blow.
+Now, don't be afraid, young master, he's longing to go out himself.
+He's been trampling with his feet these three days, and I know what
+that means; he'll let anybody ride him but myself, and thank them;
+but to me he says, "No! you struck me."'
+
+'But,' said I, 'where's the saddle?'
+
+'Never mind the saddle; if you are ever to be a frank rider, you
+must begin without a saddle; besides, if he felt a saddle, he would
+think you don't trust him, and leave you to yourself. Now, before
+you mount, make his acquaintance--see there, how he kisses you and
+licks your face, and see how he lifts his foot, that's to shake
+hands. You may trust him--now you are on his back at last; mind
+how you hold the bridle--gently, gently! It's not four pair of
+hands like yours can hold him if he wishes to be off. Mind what I
+tell you--leave it all to him.'
+
+Off went the cob at a slow and gentle trot, too fast and rough,
+however, for so inexperienced a rider. I soon felt myself sliding
+off, the animal perceived it too, and instantly stood stone still
+till I had righted myself; and now the groom came up: 'When you
+feel yourself going,' said he, 'don't lay hold of the mane, that's
+no use; mane never yet saved man from falling, no more than straw
+from drowning; it's his sides you must cling to with your calves
+and feet, till you learn to balance yourself. That's it, now
+abroad with you; I'll bet my comrade a pot of beer that you'll be a
+regular rough-rider by the time you come back.'
+
+And so it proved; I followed the directions of the groom, and the
+cob gave me every assistance. How easy is riding, after the first
+timidity is got over, to supple and youthful limbs; and there is no
+second fear. The creature soon found that the nerves of his rider
+were in proper tone. Turning his head half round, he made a kind
+of whining noise, flung out a little foam, and set off.
+
+In less than two hours I had made the circuit of the Devil's
+Mountain, and was returning along the road, bathed with
+perspiration, but screaming with delight; the cob laughing in his
+equine way, scattering foam and pebbles to the left and right, and
+trotting at the rate of sixteen miles an hour.
+
+Oh, that ride! that first ride!--most truly it was an epoch in my
+existence; and I still look back to it with feelings of longing and
+regret. People may talk of first love--it is a very agreeable
+event, I daresay--but give me the flush, and triumph, and glorious
+sweat of a first ride, like mine on the mighty cob! My whole frame
+was shaken, it is true; and during one long week I could hardly
+move foot or hand; but what of that? By that one trial I had
+become free, as I may say, of the whole equine species. No more
+fatigue, no more stiffness of joints, after that first ride round
+the Devil's Hill on the cob.
+
+Oh, that cob! that Irish cob!--may the sod lie lightly over the
+bones of the strongest, speediest, and most gallant of its kind!
+Oh! the days when, issuing from the barrack-gate of Templemore, we
+commenced our hurry-skurry just as inclination led--now across the
+fields--direct over stone walls and running brooks--mere pastime
+for the cob!--sometimes along the road to Thurles and Holy Cross,
+even to distant Cahir!--what was distance to the cob?
+
+It was thus that the passion for the equine race was first awakened
+within me--a passion which, up to the present time, has been rather
+on the increase than diminishing. It is no blind passion; the
+horse being a noble and generous creature, intended by the All-Wise
+to be the helper and friend of man, to whom he stands next in the
+order of creation. On many occasions of my life I have been much
+indebted to the horse, and have found in him a friend and
+coadjutor, when human help and sympathy were not to be obtained.
+It is therefore natural enough that I should love the horse; but
+the love which I entertain for him has always been blended with
+respect; for I soon perceived that, though disposed to be the
+friend and helper of man, he is by no means inclined to be his
+slave; in which respect he differs from the dog, who will crouch
+when beaten; whereas the horse spurns, for he is aware of his own
+worth and that he carries death within the horn of his heel. If,
+therefore, I found it easy to love the horse, I found it equally
+natural to respect him.
+
+I much question whether philology, or the passion for languages,
+requires so little of an apology as the love for horses. It has
+been said, I believe, that the more languages a man speaks, the
+more a man is he; which is very true, provided he acquires
+languages as a medium for becoming acquainted with the thoughts and
+feelings of the various sections into which the human race is
+divided; but, in that case, he should rather be termed a
+philosopher than a philologist--between which two the difference is
+wide indeed! An individual may speak and read a dozen languages,
+and yet be an exceedingly poor creature, scarcely half a man; and
+the pursuit of tongues for their own sake, and the mere
+satisfaction of acquiring them, surely argues an intellect of a
+very low order; a mind disposed to be satisfied with mean and
+grovelling things; taking more pleasure in the trumpery casket than
+in the precious treasure which it contains; in the pursuit of
+words, than in the acquisition of ideas.
+
+I cannot help thinking that it was fortunate for myself, who am, to
+a certain extent, a philologist, that with me the pursuit of
+languages has been always modified by the love of horses; for
+scarcely had I turned my mind to the former, when I also mounted
+the wild cob, and hurried forth in the direction of the Devil's
+Hill, scattering dust and flint-stones on every side; that ride,
+amongst other things, taught me that a lad with thews and sinews
+was intended by nature for something better than mere word-culling;
+and if I have accomplished anything in after life worthy of
+mentioning, I believe it may partly be attributed to the ideas
+which that ride, by setting my blood in a glow, infused into my
+brain. I might, otherwise, have become a mere philologist; one of
+those beings who toil night and day in culling useless words for
+some opus magnum which Murray will never publish, and nobody ever
+read; beings without enthusiasm, who, having never mounted a
+generous steed, cannot detect a good point in Pegasus himself; like
+a certain philologist, who, though acquainted with the exact value
+of every word in the Greek and Latin languages, could observe no
+particular beauty in one of the most glorious of Homer's
+rhapsodies. What knew he of Pegasus? he had never mounted a
+generous steed; the merest jockey, had the strain been interpreted
+to him, would have called it a brave song!--I return to the brave
+cob.
+
+On a certain day I had been out on an excursion. In a cross-road,
+at some distance from the Satanic hill, the animal which I rode
+cast a shoe. By good luck a small village was at hand, at the
+entrance of which was a large shed, from which proceeded a most
+furious noise of hammering. Leading the cob by the bridle, I
+entered boldly. 'Shoe this horse, and do it quickly, a gough,'
+said I to a wild grimy figure of a man, whom I found alone,
+fashioning a piece of iron.
+
+'Arrigod yuit?' said the fellow, desisting from his work, and
+staring at me.
+
+'Oh yes, I have money,' said I, 'and of the best'; and I pulled out
+an English shilling.
+
+'Tabhair chugam?' said the smith, stretching out his grimy hand.
+
+'No, I shan't,' said I; 'some people are glad to get their money
+when their work is done.'
+
+The fellow hammered a little longer, and then proceeded to shoe the
+cob, after having first surveyed it with attention. He performed
+his job rather roughly, and more than once appeared to give the
+animal unnecessary pain, frequently making use of loud and
+boisterous words. By the time the work was done, the creature was
+in a state of high excitement, and plunged and tore. The smith
+stood at a short distance, seeming to enjoy the irritation of the
+animal, and showing, in a remarkable manner, a huge fang, which
+projected from the under jaw of a very wry mouth.
+
+'You deserve better handling,' said I, as I went up to the cob and
+fondled it; whereupon it whinnied, and attempted to touch my face
+with its nose.
+
+'Are ye not afraid of that beast?' said the smith, showing his
+fang. 'Arrah, it's vicious that he looks!'
+
+'It's at you, then!--I don't fear him'; and thereupon I passed
+under the horse, between its hind legs.
+
+'And is that all you can do, agrah?' said the smith.
+
+'No,' said I, 'I can ride him.'
+
+'Ye can ride him, and what else, agrah?'
+
+'I can leap him over a six-foot wall,' said I.
+
+'Over a wall, and what more, agrah?'
+
+'Nothing more,' said I; 'what more would you have?'
+
+'Can you do this, agrah?' said the smith; and he uttered a word
+which I had never heard before, in a sharp pungent tone. The
+effect upon myself was somewhat extraordinary, a strange thrill ran
+through me; but with regard to the cob it was terrible; the animal
+forthwith became like one mad, and reared and kicked with the
+utmost desperation.
+
+'Can you do that, agrah?' said the smith.
+
+'What is it?' said I, retreating, 'I never saw the horse so
+before.'
+
+'Go between his legs, agrah,' said the smith, 'his hinder legs';
+and he again showed his fang.
+
+'I dare not,' said I, 'he would kill me.'
+
+'He would kill ye! and how do ye know that, agrah?'
+
+'I feel he would,' said I, 'something tells me so.'
+
+'And it tells ye truth, agrah; but it's a fine beast, and it's a
+pity to see him in such a state: Is agam an't leigeas'--and here
+he uttered another word in a voice singularly modified, but sweet
+and almost plaintive; the effect of it was as instantaneous as that
+of the other, but how different!--the animal lost all its fury, and
+became at once calm and gentle. The smith went up to it, coaxed
+and patted it, making use of various sounds of equine endearment;
+then turning to me, and holding out once more the grimy hand, he
+said, 'And now ye will be giving me the Sassannach tenpence,
+agrah?'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+
+A fine old city--Norman master-work--Lollards' Hole--Good blood--
+The Spaniard's sword--Old retired officer--Writing to a duke--God
+help the child--Nothing like Jacob--Irish brigades--Old Sergeant
+Meredith--I have been young--Idleness--Only course open--The
+bookstall--A portrait--A banished priest.
+
+From the wild scenes which I have attempted to describe in the
+latter pages I must now transport the reader to others of a widely
+different character. He must suppose himself no longer in Ireland,
+but in the eastern corner of merry England. Bogs, ruins, and
+mountains have disappeared amidst the vapours of the west: I have
+nothing more to say of them; the region in which we are now is not
+famous for objects of that kind: perhaps it flatters itself that
+it can produce fairer and better things, of some of which let me
+speak; there is a fine old city before us, and first of that let me
+speak.
+
+A fine old city, truly, is that, view it from whatever side you
+will; but it shows best from the east, where the ground, bold and
+elevated, overlooks the fair and fertile valley in which it stands.
+Gazing from those heights, the eye beholds a scene which cannot
+fail to awaken, even in the least sensitive bosom, feelings of
+pleasure and admiration. At the foot of the heights flows a narrow
+and deep river, with an antique bridge communicating with a long
+and narrow suburb, flanked on either side by rich meadows of the
+brightest green, beyond which spreads the city; the fine old city,
+perhaps the most curious specimen at present extant of the genuine
+old English town. Yes, there it spreads from north to south, with
+its venerable houses, its numerous gardens, its thrice twelve
+churches, its mighty mound, which, if tradition speaks true, was
+raised by human hands to serve as the grave-heap of an old heathen
+king, who sits deep within it, with his sword in his hand, and his
+gold and silver treasures about him. There is a gray old castle
+upon the top of that mighty mound; and yonder, rising three hundred
+feet above the soil, from among those noble forest trees, behold
+that old Norman master-work, that cloud-encircled cathedral spire,
+around which a garrulous army of rooks and choughs continually
+wheel their flight. Now, who can wonder that the children of that
+fine old city are proud of her, and offer up prayers for her
+prosperity? I, myself, who was not born within her walls, offer up
+prayers for her prosperity, that want may never visit her cottages,
+vice her palaces, and that the abomination of idolatry may never
+pollute her temples. Ha, idolatry! the reign of idolatry has been
+over there for many a long year, never more, let us hope, to
+return; brave hearts in that old town have borne witness against
+it, and sealed their testimony with their hearts' blood--most
+precious to the Lord is the blood of His saints! we are not far
+from hallowed ground. Observe ye not yon chalky precipice, to the
+right of the Norman bridge? On this side of the stream, upon its
+brow, is a piece of ruined wall, the last relic of what was of old
+a stately pile, whilst at its foot is a place called the Lollards'
+Hole; and with good reason, for many a saint of God has breathed
+his last beneath that white precipice, bearing witness against
+popish idolatry, midst flame and pitch; many a grisly procession
+has advanced along that suburb, across the old bridge, towards the
+Lollards' Hole: furious priests in front, a calm pale martyr in
+the midst, a pitying multitude behind. It has had its martyrs, the
+venerable old town!
+
+Ah! there is good blood in that old city, and in the whole
+circumjacent region of which it is the capital. The Angles
+possessed the land at an early period, which, however, they were
+eventually compelled to share with hordes of Danes and Northmen,
+who flocked thither across the sea to found hearthsteads on its
+fertile soil. The present race, a mixture of Angles and Danes,
+still preserve much which speaks strongly of their northern
+ancestry; amongst them ye will find the light-brown hair of the
+north, the strong and burly forms of the north, many a wild
+superstition, ay, and many a wild name connected with the ancient
+history of the north and its sublime mythology; the warm heart and
+the strong heart of the old Danes and Saxons still beats in those
+regions, and there ye will find, if anywhere, old northern
+hospitality and kindness of manner, united with energy,
+perseverance, and dauntless intrepidity; better soldiers or
+mariners never bled in their country's battles than those nurtured
+in those regions, and within those old walls. It was yonder, to
+the west, that the great naval hero of Britain first saw the light;
+he who annihilated the sea pride of Spain, and dragged the humbled
+banner of France in triumph at his stem. He was born yonder,
+towards the west, and of him there is a glorious relic in that old
+town; in its dark flint guildhouse, the roof of which you can just
+descry rising above that maze of buildings, in the upper hall of
+justice, is a species of glass shrine, in which the relic is to be
+seen; a sword of curious workmanship, the blade is of keen Toledan
+steel, the heft of ivory and mother-of-pearl. 'Tis the sword of
+Cordova, won in bloodiest fray off Saint Vincent's promontory, and
+presented by Nelson to the old capital of the much-loved land of
+his birth. Yes, the proud Spaniard's sword is to be seen in yonder
+guildhouse, in the glass case affixed to the wall: many other
+relics has the good old town, but none prouder than the Spaniard's
+sword.
+
+Such was the place to which, when the war was over, my father
+retired: it was here that the old tired soldier set himself down
+with his little family. He had passed the greater part of his life
+in meritorious exertion, in the service of his country, and his
+chief wish now was to spend the remainder of his days in quiet and
+respectability; his means, it is true, were not very ample;
+fortunate it was that his desires corresponded with them; with a
+small fortune of his own, and with his half-pay as a royal soldier,
+he had no fears for himself or for his faithful partner and
+helpmate; but then his children! how was he to provide for them?
+how launch them upon the wide ocean of the world? This was,
+perhaps, the only thought which gave him uneasiness, and I believe
+that many an old retired officer at that time, and under similar
+circumstances, experienced similar anxiety; had the war continued,
+their children would have been, of course, provided for in the
+army, but peace now reigned, and the military career was closed to
+all save the scions of the aristocracy, or those who were in some
+degree connected with that privileged order, an advantage which few
+of these old officers could boast of; they had slight influence
+with the great, who gave themselves very little trouble either
+about them or their families.
+
+'I have been writing to the Duke,' said my father one day to my
+excellent mother, after we had been at home somewhat better than a
+year. 'I have been writing to the Duke of York about a commission
+for that eldest boy of ours. He, however, affords me no hopes; he
+says that his list is crammed with names, and that the greater
+number of the candidates have better claims than my son.'
+
+'I do not see how that can be,' said my mother.
+
+'Nor do I,' replied my father. 'I see the sons of bankers and
+merchants gazetted every month, and I do not see what claims they
+have to urge, unless they be golden ones. However, I have not
+served my king fifty years to turn grumbler at this time of life.
+I suppose that the people at the head of affairs know what is most
+proper and convenient; perhaps when the lad sees how difficult,
+nay, how impossible it is that he should enter the army, he will
+turn his mind to some other profession; I wish he may!'
+
+'I think he has already,' said my mother; 'you see how fond he is
+of the arts, of drawing and painting, and, as far as I can judge,
+what he has already done is very respectable; his mind seems quite
+turned that way, and I heard him say the other day that he would
+sooner be a Michael Angelo than a general officer. But you are
+always talking of him; what do you think of doing with the other
+child?'
+
+'What, indeed!' said my father; 'that is a consideration which
+gives me no little uneasiness. I am afraid it will be much more
+difficult to settle him in life than his brother. What is he
+fitted for, even were it in my power to provide for him? God help
+the child! I bear him no ill will, on the contrary, all love and
+affection; but I cannot shut my eyes; there is something so strange
+about him! How he behaved in Ireland! I sent him to school to
+learn Greek, and he picked up Irish!'
+
+'And Greek as well,' said my mother. 'I heard him say the other
+day that he could read St. John in the original tongue.'
+
+'You will find excuses for him, I know,' said my father. 'You tell
+me I am always talking of my first-born; I might retort by saying
+you are always thinking of the other: but it is the way of women
+always to side with the second-born. There's what's her name in
+the Bible, by whose wiles the old blind man was induced to give to
+his second son the blessing which was the birthright of the other.
+I wish I had been in his place! I should not have been so easily
+deceived! no disguise would ever have caused me to mistake an
+impostor for my first-born. Though I must say for this boy that he
+is nothing like Jacob; he is neither smooth nor sleek, and, though
+my second-born, is already taller and larger than his brother.'
+
+'Just so,' said my mother; 'his brother would make a far better
+Jacob than he.'
+
+'I will hear nothing against my first-born,' said my father, 'even
+in the way of insinuation: he is my joy and pride; the very image
+of myself in my youthful days, long before I fought Big Ben; though
+perhaps not quite so tall or strong built. As for the other, God
+bless the child! I love him, I'm sure; but I must be blind not to
+see the difference between him and his brother. Why, he has
+neither my hair nor my eyes; and then his countenance! why, 'tis
+absolutely swarthy, God forgive me! I had almost said like that of
+a gypsy, but I have nothing to say against that; the boy is not to
+be blamed for the colour of his face, nor for his hair and eyes;
+but, then, his ways and manners!--I confess I do not like them, and
+that they give me no little uneasiness--I know that he kept very
+strange company when he was in Ireland; people of evil report, of
+whom terrible things were said--horse-witches and the like. I
+questioned him once or twice upon the matter, and even threatened
+him, but it was of no use; he put on a look as if he did not
+understand me, a regular Irish look, just such a one as those
+rascals assume when they wish to appear all innocence and
+simplicity, and they full of malice and deceit all the time. I
+don't like them; they are no friends to old England, or its old
+king, God bless him! They are not good subjects, and never were;
+always in league with foreign enemies. When I was in the
+Coldstream, long before the Revolution, I used to hear enough about
+the Irish brigades kept by the French kings, to be a thorn in the
+side of the English whenever opportunity served. Old Sergeant
+Meredith once told me that in the time of the Pretender there were
+always, in London alone, a dozen of fellows connected with these
+brigades, with the view of seducing the king's soldiers from their
+allegiance, and persuading them to desert to France to join the
+honest Irish, as they were called. One of these traitors once
+accosted him and proposed the matter to him, offering handfuls of
+gold if he could induce any of his comrades to go over. Meredith
+appeared to consent, but secretly gave information to his colonel;
+the fellow was seized, and certain traitorous papers found upon
+him; he was hanged before Newgate, and died exulting in his
+treason. His name was Michael Nowlan. That ever son of mine
+should have been intimate with the Papist Irish, and have learnt
+their language!'
+
+'But he thinks of other things now,' said my mother.
+
+'Other languages, you mean,' said my father. 'It is strange that
+he has conceived such a zest for the study of languages; no sooner
+did he come home than he persuaded me to send him to that old
+priest to learn French and Italian, and, if I remember right, you
+abetted him; but, as I said before, it is in the nature of women
+invariably to take the part of the second-born. Well, there is no
+harm in learning French and Italian, perhaps much good in his case,
+as they may drive the other tongue out of his head. Irish! why, he
+might go to the university but for that; but how would he look
+when, on being examined with respect to his attainments, it was
+discovered that he understood Irish? How did you learn it? they
+would ask him; how did you become acquainted with the language of
+Papists and rebels? The boy would be sent away in disgrace.'
+
+'Be under no apprehension, I have no doubt that he has long since
+forgotten it.'
+
+'I am glad to hear it,' said my father; 'for, between ourselves, I
+love the poor child; ay, quite as well as my first-born. I trust
+they will do well, and that God will be their shield and guide; I
+have no doubt He will, for I have read something in the Bible to
+that effect. What is that text about the young ravens being fed?'
+
+'I know a better than that,' said my mother; 'one of David's own
+words, "I have been young and now am grown old, yet never have I
+seen the righteous man forsaken, or his seed begging their bread."'
+
+I have heard talk of the pleasures of idleness, yet it is my own
+firm belief that no one ever yet took pleasure in it. Mere
+idleness is the most disagreeable state of existence, and both mind
+and body are continually making efforts to escape from it. It has
+been said that idleness is the parent of mischief, which is very
+true; but mischief itself is merely an attempt to escape from the
+dreary vacuum of idleness. There are many tasks and occupations
+which a man is unwilling to perform, but let no one think that he
+is therefore in love with idleness; he turns to something which is
+more agreeable to his inclination, and doubtless more suited to his
+nature; but he is not in love with idleness. A boy may play the
+truant from school because he dislikes books and study; but, depend
+upon it, he intends doing something the while--to go fishing, or
+perhaps to take a walk; and who knows but that from such excursions
+both his mind and body may derive more benefit than from books and
+school? Many people go to sleep to escape from idleness; the
+Spaniards do; and, according to the French account, John Bull, the
+'squire, hangs himself in the month of November; but the French,
+who are a very sensible people, attribute the action a une grande
+envie de se desennuyer; he wishes to be doing something, say they,
+and having nothing better to do, he has recourse to the cord.
+
+It was for want of something better to do that, shortly after my
+return home, I applied myself to the study of languages. By the
+acquisition of Irish, with the first elements of which I had become
+acquainted under the tuition of Murtagh, I had contracted a certain
+zest and inclination for the pursuit. Yet it is probable that had
+I been launched about this time into some agreeable career, that of
+arms for example, for which, being the son of a soldier, I had, as
+was natural, a sort of penchant, I might have thought nothing more
+of the acquisition of tongues of any kind; but, having nothing to
+do, I followed the only course suited to my genius which appeared
+open to me.
+
+So it came to pass that one day, whilst wandering listlessly about
+the streets of the old town, I came to a small book-stall, and
+stopping, commenced turning over the books; I took up at least a
+dozen, and almost instantly flung them down. What were they to me?
+At last, coming to a thick volume, I opened it, and after
+inspecting its contents for a few minutes, I paid for it what was
+demanded, and forthwith carried it home.
+
+It was a tessaraglot grammar; a strange old book, printed somewhere
+in Holland, which pretended to be an easy guide to the acquirement
+of the French, Italian, Low Dutch, and English tongues, by means of
+which any one conversant in any one of these languages could make
+himself master of the other three. I turned my attention to the
+French and Italian. The old book was not of much value; I derived
+some benefit from it, however, and, conning it intensely, at the
+end of a few weeks obtained some insight into the structure of
+these two languages. At length I had learnt all that the book was
+capable of informing me, yet was still far from the goal to which
+it had promised to conduct me. 'I wish I had a master!' I
+exclaimed; and the master was at hand. In an old court of the old
+town lived a certain elderly personage, perhaps sixty, or
+thereabouts; he was rather tall, and something of a robust make,
+with a countenance in which bluffness was singularly blended with
+vivacity and grimace; and with a complexion which would have been
+ruddy, but for a yellow hue which rather predominated. His dress
+consisted of a snuff-coloured coat and drab pantaloons, the former
+evidently seldom subjected to the annoyance of a brush, and the
+latter exhibiting here and there spots of something which, if not
+grease, bore a strong resemblance to it; add to these articles an
+immense frill, seldom of the purest white, but invariably of the
+finest French cambric, and you have some idea of his dress. He had
+rather a remarkable stoop, but his step was rapid and vigorous, and
+as he hurried along the streets, he would glance to the right and
+left with a pair of big eyes like plums, and on recognising any one
+would exalt a pair of grizzled eyebrows, and slightly kiss a tawny
+and ungloved hand. At certain hours of the day be might be seen
+entering the doors of female boarding-schools, generally with a
+book in his hand, and perhaps another just peering from the orifice
+of a capacious back pocket; and at a certain season of the year he
+might be seen, dressed in white, before the altar of a certain
+small popish chapel, chanting from the breviary in very
+intelligible Latin, or perhaps reading from the desk in utterly
+unintelligible English. Such was my preceptor in the French and
+Italian tongues. 'Exul sacerdos; vone banished priest. I came
+into England twenty-five year ago, "my dear."'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+
+Monsieur Dante--Condemned musket--Sporting--Sweet rivulet--The
+Earl's Home--The pool--The sonorous voice--What dost thou read?--
+Man of peace--Zohar and Mishna--Money-changers.
+
+So I studied French and Italian under the tuition of the banished
+priest, to whose house I went regularly every evening to receive
+instruction. I made considerable progress in the acquisition of
+the two languages. I found the French by far the most difficult,
+chiefly on account of the accent, which my master himself possessed
+in no great purity, being a Norman by birth. The Italian was my
+favourite.
+
+'Vous serez un jour un grand philologue, mon cher,' said the old
+man, on our arriving at the conclusion of Dante's Hell.
+
+'I hope I shall be something better,' said I, 'before I die, or I
+shall have lived to little purpose.'
+
+'That's true, my dear! philologist--one small poor dog. What would
+you wish to be?'
+
+'Many things sooner than that; for example, I would rather be like
+him who wrote this book.'
+
+'Quoi, Monsieur Dante? He was a vagabond, my dear, forced to fly
+from his country. No, my dear, if you would be like one poet, be
+like Monsieur Boileau; he is the poet.'
+
+'I don't think so.'
+
+'How, not think so? He wrote very respectable verses; lived and
+died much respected by everybody. T'other, one bad dog, forced to
+fly from his country--died with not enough to pay his undertaker.'
+
+'Were you not forced to flee from your country?'
+
+'That very true; but there is much difference between me and this
+Dante. He fled from country because he had one bad tongue which he
+shook at his betters. I fly because benefice gone, and head going;
+not on account of the badness of my tongue.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'you can return now; the Bourbons are restored.'
+
+'I find myself very well here; not bad country. Il est vrai que la
+France sera toujours la France; but all are dead there who knew me.
+I find myself very well here. Preach in popish chapel, teach
+schismatic, that is Protestant, child tongues and literature. I
+find myself very well; and why? Because I know how to govern my
+tongue; never call people hard names. Ma foi, il y a beaucoup de
+difference entre moi et ce sacre de Dante.'
+
+Under this old man, who was well versed in the southern languages,
+besides studying French and Italian, I acquired some knowledge of
+Spanish. But I did not devote my time entirely to philology; I had
+other pursuits. I had not forgotten the roving life I had led in
+former days, nor its delights; neither was I formed by Nature to be
+a pallid indoor student. No, no! I was fond of other and, I say
+it boldly, better things than study. I had an attachment to the
+angle, ay, and to the gun likewise. In our house was a condemned
+musket, bearing somewhere on its lock, in rather antique
+characters, 'Tower, 1746'; with this weapon I had already, in
+Ireland, performed some execution among the rooks and choughs, and
+it was now again destined to be a source of solace and amusement to
+me, in the winter season, especially on occasions of severe frost
+when birds abounded. Sallying forth with it at these times, far
+into the country, I seldom returned at night without a string of
+bullfinches, blackbirds, and linnets hanging in triumph round my
+neck. When I reflect on the immense quantity of powder and shot
+which I crammed down the muzzle of my uncouth fowling-piece, I am
+less surprised at the number of birds which I slaughtered than that
+I never blew my hands, face, and old honeycombed gun, it one and
+the same time, to pieces.
+
+But the winter, alas! (I speak as a fowler) seldom lasts in England
+more than three or four months; so, during the rest of the year,
+when not occupied with my philological studies, I had to seek for
+other diversions. I have already given a hint that I was also
+addicted to the angle. Of course there is no comparison between
+the two pursuits, the rod and line seeming but very poor trumpery
+to one who has had the honour of carrying a noble firelock. There
+is a time, however, for all things; and we return to any favourite
+amusement with the greater zest, from being compelled to relinquish
+it for a season. So, if I shot birds in winter with my firelock, I
+caught fish in summer, or attempted so to do, with my angle. I was
+not quite so successful, it is true, with the latter as with the
+former; possibly because it afforded me less pleasure. It was,
+indeed, too much of a listless pastime to inspire me with any great
+interest. I not unfrequently fell into a doze, whilst sitting on
+the bank, and more than once let my rod drop from my hands into the
+water.
+
+At some distance from the city, behind a range of hilly ground
+which rises towards the south-west, is a small river, the waters of
+which, after many meanderings, eventually enter the principal river
+of the district, and assist to swell the tide which it rolls down
+to the ocean. It is a sweet rivulet, and pleasant is it to trace
+its course from its spring-head, high up in the remote regions of
+Eastern Anglia, till it arrives in the valley behind yon rising
+ground; and pleasant is that valley, truly a goodly spot, but most
+lovely where yonder bridge crosses the little stream. Beneath its
+arch the waters rush garrulously into a blue pool, and are there
+stilled, for a time, for the pool is deep, and they appear to have
+sunk to sleep. Farther on, however, you hear their voice again,
+where they ripple gaily over yon gravelly shallow. On the left,
+the hill slopes gently down to the margin of the stream. On the
+right is a green level, a smiling meadow, grass of the richest
+decks the side of the slope; mighty trees also adorn it, giant
+elms, the nearest of which, when the sun is nigh its meridian,
+fling a broad shadow upon the face of the pool; through yon vista
+you catch a glimpse of the ancient brick of an old English hall.
+It has a stately look, that old building, indistinctly seen, as it
+is, among those umbrageous trees; you might almost suppose it an
+earl's home; and such it was, or rather upon its site stood an
+earl's home, in days of old, for there some old Kemp, some Sigurd
+or Thorkild, roaming in quest of a hearthstead, settled down in the
+gray old time, when Thor and Freya were yet gods, and Odin was a
+portentous name. Yon old hall is still called the Earl's Home,
+though the hearth of Sigurd is now no more, and the bones of the
+old Kemp, and of Sigrith his dame, have been mouldering for a
+thousand years in some neighbouring knoll; perhaps yonder, where
+those tall Norwegian pines shoot up so boldly into the air. It is
+said that the old earl's galley was once moored where is now that
+blue pool, for the waters of that valley were not always sweet; yon
+valley was once an arm of the sea, a salt lagoon, to which the war-
+barks of 'Sigurd, in search of a home,' found their way.
+
+I was in the habit of spending many an hour on the banks of that
+rivulet, with my rod in my hand, and, when tired with angling,
+would stretch myself on the grass, and gaze upon the waters as they
+glided past, and not unfrequently, divesting myself of my dress, I
+would plunge into the deep pool which I have already mentioned, for
+I had long since learned to swim. And it came to pass that on one
+hot summer's day, after bathing in the pool, I passed along the
+meadow till I came to a shallow part, and, wading over to the
+opposite side, I adjusted my dress, and commenced fishing in
+another pool, beside which was a small clump of hazels.
+
+And there I sat upon the bank, at the bottom of the hill which
+slopes down from 'the Earl's home'; my float was on the waters, and
+my back was towards the old hall. I drew up many fish, small and
+great, which I took from off the hook mechanically, and flung upon
+the bank, for I was almost unconscious of what I was about, for my
+mind was not with my fish. I was thinking of my earlier years--of
+the Scottish crags and the heaths of Ireland--and sometimes my mind
+would dwell on my studies--on the sonorous stanzas of Dante, rising
+and falling like the waves of the sea--or would strive to remember
+a couplet or two of poor Monsieur Boileau.
+
+'Canst thou answer to thy conscience for pulling all those fish out
+of the water, and leaving them to gasp in the sun?' said a voice,
+clear and sonorous as a bell.
+
+I started, and looked round. Close behind me stood the tall figure
+of a man, dressed in raiment of quaint and singular fashion, but of
+goodly materials. He was in the prime and vigour of manhood; his
+features handsome and noble, but full of calmness and benevolence;
+at least I thought so, though they were somewhat shaded by a hat of
+finest beaver, with broad drooping eaves.
+
+'Surely that is a very cruel diversion in which thou indulgest, my
+young friend?' he continued.
+
+'I am sorry for it, if it be, sir,' said I, rising; 'but I do not
+think it cruel to fish.'
+
+'What are thy reasons for not thinking so?'
+
+'Fishing is mentioned frequently in Scripture. Simon Peter was a
+fisherman.'
+
+'True; and Andrew and his brother. But thou forgettest: they did
+not follow fishing as a diversion, as I fear thou doest.--Thou
+readest the Scriptures?'
+
+'Sometimes.'
+
+'Sometimes?--not daily?--that is to be regretted. What profession
+dost thou make?--I mean to what religious denomination dost thou
+belong, my young friend.'
+
+'Church?'
+
+'It is a very good profession--there is much of Scripture contained
+in its liturgy. Dost thou read aught besides the Scriptures?'
+
+'Sometimes.'
+
+'What dost thou read besides?'
+
+'Greek, and Dante.'
+
+'Indeed! then thou hast the advantage over myself; I can only read
+the former. Well, I am rejoiced to find that thou hast other
+pursuits beside thy fishing. Dost thou know Hebrew?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'Thou shouldst study it. Why dost thou not undertake the study?'
+
+'I have no books.'
+
+'I will lend thee books, if thou wish to undertake the study. I
+live yonder at the hall, as perhaps thou knowest. I have a library
+there, in which are many curious books, both in Greek and Hebrew,
+which I will show to thee, whenever thou mayest find it convenient
+to come and see me. Farewell! I am glad to find that thou hast
+pursuits more satisfactory than thy cruel fishing.'
+
+And the man of peace departed, and left me on the bank of the
+stream. Whether from the effect of his words, or from want of
+inclination to the sport, I know not, but from that day I became
+less and less a practitioner of that 'cruel fishing.' I rarely
+flung line and angle into the water, but I not unfrequently
+wandered by the banks of the pleasant rivulet. It seems singular
+to me, on reflection, that I never availed myself of his kind
+invitation. I say singular, for the extraordinary, under whatever
+form, had long had no slight interest for me; and I had discernment
+enough to perceive that yon was no common man. Yet I went not near
+him, certainly not from bashfulness or timidity, feelings to which
+I had long been an entire stranger. Am I to regret this? perhaps,
+for I might have learned both wisdom and righteousness from those
+calm, quiet lips, and my after-course might have been widely
+different. As it was, I fell in with other guess companions, from
+whom I received widely different impressions than those I might
+have derived from him. When many years had rolled on, long after I
+had attained manhood, and had seen and suffered much, and when our
+first interview had long since been effaced from the mind of the
+man of peace, I visited him in his venerable hall, and partook of
+the hospitality of his hearth. And there I saw his gentle partner
+and his fair children, and on the morrow he showed me the books of
+which he had spoken years before by the side of the stream. In the
+low quiet chamber, whose one window, shaded by a gigantic elm,
+looks down the slope towards the pleasant stream, he took from the
+shelf his learned books, Zohar and Mishna, Toldoth Jesu and
+Abarbenel. 'I am fond of these studies,' said he, 'which, perhaps,
+is not to be wondered at, seeing that our people have been compared
+to the Jews. In one respect I confess we are similar to them; we
+are fond of getting money. I do not like this last author, this
+Abarbenel, the worse for having been a money-changer. I am a
+banker myself, as thou knowest.'
+
+And would there were many like him, amidst the money-changers of
+princes! The hall of many an earl lacks the bounty, the palace of
+many a prelate the piety and learning, which adorn the quiet
+quaker's home!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+
+Fair of horses--Looks of respect--The fast trotter--Pair of eyes--
+Strange men--Jasper, your pal--Force of blood--Young lady with
+diamonds--Not quite so beautiful.
+
+I was standing on the castle hill in the midst of a fair of horses.
+
+I have already had occasion to mention this castle. It is the
+remains of what was once a Norman stronghold, and is perched upon a
+round mound or monticle, in the midst of the old city. Steep is
+this mound and scarped, evidently by the hand of man; a deep gorge
+over which is flung a bridge, separates it, on the south, from a
+broad swell of open ground called 'the hill'; of old the scene of
+many a tournament and feat of Norman chivalry, but now much used as
+a show-place for cattle, where those who buy and sell beeves and
+other beasts resort at stated periods.
+
+So it came to pass that I stood upon this hill, observing a fair of
+horses.
+
+The reader is already aware that I had long since conceived a
+passion for the equine race; a passion in which circumstances had
+of late not permitted me to indulge. I had no horses to ride, but
+I took pleasure in looking at them; and I had already attended more
+than one of these fairs: the present was lively enough, indeed
+horse fairs are seldom dull. There was shouting and whooping,
+neighing and braying; there was galloping and trotting; fellows
+with highlows and white stockings, and with many a string dangling
+from the knees of their tight breeches, were running desperately,
+holding horses by the halter, and in some cases dragging them
+along; there were long-tailed steeds and dock-tailed steeds of
+every degree and breed; there were droves of wild ponies, and long
+rows of sober cart horses; there were donkeys, and even mules: the
+last rare things to be seen in damp, misty England, for the mule
+pines in mud and rain, and thrives best with a hot sun above and a
+burning sand below. There were--oh, the gallant creatures! I hear
+their neigh upon the wind; there were--goodliest sight of all--
+certain enormous quadrupeds only seen to perfection in our native
+isle, led about by dapper grooms, their manes ribanded and their
+tails curiously clubbed and balled. Ha! ha!--how distinctly do
+they say, ha! ha!
+
+An old man draws nigh, he is mounted on a lean pony, and he leads
+by the bridle one of these animals; nothing very remarkable about
+that creature, unless in being smaller than the rest and gentle,
+which they are not; he is not of the sightliest look; he is almost
+dun, and over one eye a thick film has gathered. But stay! there
+IS something remarkable about that horse, there is something in his
+action in which he differs from all the rest: as he advances, the
+clamour is hushed! all eyes are turned upon him--what looks of
+interest--of respect--and, what is this? people are taking off
+their hats--surely not to that steed! Yes, verily! men, especially
+old men, are taking off their hats to that one-eyed steed, and I
+hear more than one deep-drawn ah!
+
+'What horse is that?' said I to a very old fellow, the counterpart
+of the old man on the pony, save that the last wore a faded suit of
+velveteen, and this one was dressed in a white frock.
+
+'The best in mother England,' said the very old man, taking a
+knobbed stick from his mouth, and looking me in the face, at first
+carelessly, but presently with something like interest; 'he is old
+like myself, but can still trot his twenty miles an hour. You
+won't live long, my swain; tall and over-grown ones like thee never
+does; yet, if you should chance to reach my years, you may boast to
+thy great-grand-boys thou hast seen Marshland Shales.'
+
+Amain I did for the horse what I would neither do for earl nor
+baron, doffed my hat; yes! I doffed my hat to the wondrous horse,
+the fast trotter, the best in mother England; and I too drew a deep
+ah! and repeated the words of the old fellows around. 'Such a
+horse as this we shall never see again; a pity that he is so old.'
+
+Now during all this time I had a kind of consciousness that I had
+been the object of some person's observation; that eyes were
+fastened upon me from somewhere in the crowd. Sometimes I thought
+myself watched from before, sometimes from behind; and occasionally
+methought that, if I just turned my head to the right or left, I
+should meet a peering and inquiring glance; and indeed once or
+twice I did turn, expecting to see somebody whom I knew, yet always
+without success; though it appeared to me that I was but a moment
+too late, and that some one had just slipped away from the
+direction to which I turned, like the figure in a magic lanthorn.
+Once I was quite sure that there were a pair of eyes glaring over
+my right shoulder; my attention, however, was so fully occupied
+with the objects which I have attempted to describe, that I thought
+very little of this coming and going, this flitting and dodging of
+I knew not whom or what. It was, after all, a matter of sheer
+indifference to me who was looking at me. I could only wish
+whomsoever it might be to be more profitably employed; so I
+continued enjoying what I saw; and now there was a change in the
+scene, the wondrous old horse departed with his aged guardian;
+other objects of interest are at hand; two or three men on
+horseback are hurrying through the crowd, they are widely different
+in their appearance from the other people of the fair; not so much
+in dress, for they are clad something after the fashion of rustic
+jockeys, but in their look--no light-brown hair have they, no ruddy
+cheeks, no blue quiet glances belong to them; their features are
+dark, their locks long, black, and shining, and their eyes are
+wild; they are admirable horsemen, but they do not sit the saddle
+in the manner of common jockeys, they seem to float or hover upon
+it, like gulls upon the waves; two of them are mere striplings, but
+the third is a very tall man with a countenance heroically
+beautiful, but wild, wild, wild. As they rush along, the crowd
+give way on all sides, and now a kind of ring or circus is formed,
+within which the strange men exhibit their horsemanship, rushing
+past each other, in and out, after the manner of a reel, the tall
+man occasionally balancing himself upon the saddle, and standing
+erect on one foot. He had just regained his seat after the latter
+feat, and was about to push his horse to a gallop, when a figure
+started forward close from beside me, and laying his hand on his
+neck, and pulling him gently downward, appeared to whisper
+something into his ear; presently the tall man raised his head,
+and, scanning the crowd for a moment in the direction in which I
+was standing, fixed his eyes full upon me, and anon the countenance
+of the whisperer was turned, but only in part, and the side-glance
+of another pair of wild eyes was directed towards my face, but the
+entire visage of the big black man, half stooping as he was, was
+turned full upon mine.
+
+But now, with a nod to the figure who had stopped him, and with
+another inquiring glance at myself, the big man once more put his
+steed into motion, and, after riding round the ring a few more
+times, darted through a lane in the crowd, and followed by his two
+companions disappeared, whereupon the figure who had whispered to
+him, and had subsequently remained in the middle of the space, came
+towards me, and, cracking a whip which he held in his hand so
+loudly that the report was nearly equal to that of a pocket pistol,
+he cried in a strange tone:
+
+'What! the sap-engro? Lor! the sap-engro upon the hill!'
+
+'I remember that word,' said I, 'and I almost think I remember you.
+You can't be--'
+
+'Jasper, your pal! Truth, and no lie, brother.'
+
+'It is strange that you should have known me,' said I. 'I am
+certain, but for the word you used, I should never have recognised
+you.'
+
+'Not so strange as you may think, brother; there is something in
+your face which would prevent people from forgetting you, even
+though they might wish it; and your face is not much altered since
+the time you wot of, though you are so much grown. I thought it
+was you, but to make sure I dodged about, inspecting you. I
+believe you felt me, though I never touched you; a sign, brother,
+that we are akin, that we are dui palor--two relations. Your blood
+beat when mine was near, as mine always does at the coming of a
+brother; and we became brothers in that lane.'
+
+'And where are you staying?' said I; 'in this town?'
+
+'Not in the town; the like of us don't find it exactly wholesome to
+stay in towns, we keep abroad. But I have little to do here--come
+with me, and I'll show you where we stay.'
+
+We descended the hill in the direction of the north, and passing
+along the suburb reached the old Norman bridge, which we crossed;
+the chalk precipice, with the ruin on its top, was now before us;
+but turning to the left we walked swiftly along, and presently came
+to some rising ground, which ascending, we found ourselves upon a
+wild moor or heath.
+
+'You are one of them,' said I, 'whom people call--'
+
+'Just so,' said Jasper; 'but never mind what people call us.'
+
+'And that tall handsome man on the hill, whom you whispered? I
+suppose he's one of ye. What is his name?'
+
+'Tawno Chikno,' said Jasper, 'which means the small one; we call
+him such because he is the biggest man of all our nation. You say
+he is handsome, that is not the word, brother; he's the beauty of
+the world. Women run wild at the sight of Tawno. An earl's
+daughter, near London--a fine young lady with diamonds round her
+neck--fell in love with Tawno. I have seen that lass on a heath,
+as this may be, kneel down to Tawno, clasp his feet, begging to be
+his wife--or anything else--if she might go with him. But Tawno
+would have nothing to do with her: "I have a wife of my own," said
+he, "a lawful rommany wife, whom I love better than the whole
+world, jealous though she sometimes be."'
+
+'And is she very beautiful?' said I.
+
+'Why, you know, brother, beauty is frequently a matter of taste;
+however, as you ask my opinion, I should say not quite so beautiful
+as himself.'
+
+We had now arrived at a small valley between two hills, or downs,
+the sides of which were covered with furze; in the midst of this
+valley were various carts and low tents forming a rude kind of
+encampment; several dark children were playing about, who took no
+manner of notice of us. As we passed one of the tents, however, a
+canvas screen was lifted up, and a woman supported upon a crutch
+hobbled out. She was about the middle age, and, besides being
+lame, was bitterly ugly; she was very slovenly dressed, and on her
+swarthy features ill nature was most visibly stamped. She did not
+deign me a look, but, addressing Jasper in a tongue which I did not
+understand, appeared to put some eager questions to him.
+
+'He's coming,' said Jasper, and passed on. 'Poor fellow,' said he
+to me, 'he has scarcely been gone an hour, and she's jealous
+already. Well,' he continued, 'what do you think of her? you have
+seen her now, and can judge for yourself--that 'ere woman is Tawno
+Chikno's wife!'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+
+The tent--Pleasant discourse--I am Pharaoh--Shifting for one's self
+--Horse-shoes--This is wonderful--Bless your wisdom--A pretty
+manoeuvre--Ill day to the Romans--My name is Herne--Singular
+people--An original speech--Word-master--Speaking Romanly.
+
+We went to the farthest of the tents, which stood at a slight
+distance from the rest, and which exactly resembled the one which I
+have described on a former occasion; we went in and sat down one on
+each side of a small fire, which was smouldering on the ground,
+there was no one else in the tent but a tall tawny woman of middle
+age, who was busily knitting. 'Brother,' said Jasper, 'I wish to
+hold some pleasant discourse with you.'
+
+'As much as you please,' said I, 'provided you can find anything
+pleasant to talk about.'
+
+'Never fear,' said Jasper; 'and first of all we will talk of
+yourself. Where have you been all this long time?'
+
+'Here and there,' said I, 'and far and near, going about with the
+soldiers; but there is no soldiering now, so we have sat down,
+father and family, in the town there.'
+
+'And do you still hunt snakes?' said Jasper.
+
+'No,' said I, 'I have given up that long ago; I do better now:
+read books and learn languages.'
+
+'Well, I am sorry you have given up your snake-hunting, many's the
+strange talk I have had with our people about your snake and
+yourself, and how you frightened my father and mother in the lane.'
+
+'And where are your father and mother?'
+
+'Where I shall never see them, brother; at least, I hope so.'
+
+'Not dead?'
+
+'No, not dead; they are bitchadey pawdel.'
+
+'What's that?'
+
+'Sent across--banished.'
+
+'Ah! I understand; I am sorry for them. And so you are here
+alone?'
+
+'Not quite alone, brother.'
+
+'No, not alone; but with the rest--Tawno Chikno takes care of you.'
+
+'Takes care of me, brother!'
+
+'Yes, stands to you in the place of a father--keeps you out of
+harm's way.'
+
+'What do you take me for, brother?'
+
+'For about three years older than myself.'
+
+'Perhaps; but you are of the Gorgios, and I am a Rommany Chal.
+Tawno Chikno take care of Jasper Petulengro!'
+
+'Is that your name?'
+
+'Don't you like it?'
+
+'Very much, I never heard a sweeter; it is something like what you
+call me.'
+
+'The horse-shoe master and the snake-fellow, I am the first.'
+
+'Who gave you that name?'
+
+'Ask Pharaoh.'
+
+'I would, if he were here, but I do not see him.'
+
+'I am Pharaoh.'
+
+'Then you are a king.'
+
+'Chachipen Pal.'
+
+'I do not understand you.'
+
+'Where are your languages? You want two things, brother: mother
+sense, and gentle Rommany.'
+
+'What makes you think that I want sense?'
+
+'That, being so old, you can't yet guide yourself!'
+
+'I can read Dante, Jasper.'
+
+'Anan, brother.'
+
+'I can charm snakes, Jasper.'
+
+'I know you can, brother.'
+
+'Yes, and horses too; bring me the most vicious in the land, if I
+whisper he'll be tame.'
+
+'Then the more shame for you--a snake-fellow--a horse-witch--and a
+lil-reader--yet you can't shift for yourself. I laugh at you,
+brother!'
+
+'Then you can shift for yourself?'
+
+'For myself and for others, brother.'
+
+'And what does Chikno?'
+
+'Sells me horses, when I bid him. Those horses on the chong were
+mine.'
+
+'And has he none of his own?'
+
+'Sometimes he has; but he is not so well off as myself. When my
+father and mother were bitchadey pawdel, which, to tell you the
+truth, they were for chiving wafodo dloovu, they left me all they
+had, which was not a little, and I became the head of our family,
+which was not a small one. I was not older than you when that
+happened; yet our people said they had never a better krallis to
+contrive and plan for them, and to keep them in order. And this is
+so well known that many Rommany Chals, not of our family, come and
+join themselves to us, living with us for a time, in order to
+better themselves, more especially those of the poorer sort, who
+have little of their own. Tawno is one of these.'
+
+'Is that fine fellow poor?'
+
+'One of the poorest, brother. Handsome as he is, he has not a
+horse of his own to ride on. Perhaps we may put it down to his
+wife, who cannot move about, being a cripple, as you saw.'
+
+'And you are what is called a Gypsy King?'
+
+'Ay, ay; a Rommany Kral.'
+
+'Are there other kings?'
+
+'Those who call themselves so; but the true Pharaoh is Petulengro.'
+
+'Did Pharaoh make horse-shoes?'
+
+'The first who ever did, brother.'
+
+'Pharaoh lived in Egypt.'
+
+'So did we once, brother.'
+
+'And you left it?'
+
+'My fathers did, brother.'
+
+'And why did they come here?'
+
+'They had their reasons, brother.'
+
+'And you are not English?'
+
+'We are not gorgios.'
+
+'And you have a language of your own?'
+
+'Avali.'
+
+'This is wonderful.'
+
+'Ha, ha!' cried the woman, who had hitherto sat knitting, at the
+farther end of the tent, without saying a word, though not
+inattentive to our conversation, as I could perceive by certain
+glances which she occasionally cast upon us both. 'Ha, ha!' she
+screamed, fixing upon me two eyes, which shone like burning coals,
+and which were filled with an expression both of scorn and
+malignity, 'It is wonderful, is it, that we should have a language
+of our own? What, you grudge the poor people the speech they talk
+among themselves? That's just like you gorgios; you would have
+everybody stupid, single-tongued idiots, like yourselves. We are
+taken before the Poknees of the gav, myself and sister, to give an
+account of ourselves. So I says to my sister's little boy,
+speaking Rommany, I says to the little boy who is with us, Run to
+my son Jasper, and the rest, and tell them to be off, there are
+hawks abroad. So the Poknees questions us, and lets us go, not
+being able to make anything of us; but, as we are going, he calls
+us back. "Good woman," says the Poknees, "what was that I heard
+you say just now to the little boy?" "I was telling him, your
+worship, to go and see the time of day, and to save trouble, I said
+it in our language." "Where did you get that language?" says the
+Poknees. "'Tis our own language, sir," I tells him, "we did not
+steal it." "Shall I tell you what it is, my good woman?" says the
+Poknees. "I would thank you, sir," says I, "for 'tis often we are
+asked about it." "Well, then," says the Poknees, "it is no
+language at all, merely a made-up gibberish." "Oh, bless your
+wisdom," says I, with a curtsey, "you can tell us what our language
+is, without understanding it!" Another time we meet a parson.
+"Good woman," says he, "what's that you are talking? Is it broken
+language?" "Of course, your reverence," says I, "we are broken
+people; give a shilling, your reverence, to the poor broken woman."
+Oh, these gorgios! they grudge us our very language!'
+
+'She called you her son, Jasper?'
+
+'I am her son, brother.'
+
+'I thought you said your parents were--'
+
+'Bitchadey pawdel; you thought right, brother. This is my wife's
+mother.'
+
+'Then you are married, Jasper?'
+
+'Ay, truly; I am husband and father. You will see wife and chabo
+anon.'
+
+'Where are they now?'
+
+'In the gav, penning dukkerin.'
+
+'We were talking of language, Jasper?'
+
+'True, brother.'
+
+'Yours must be a rum one?'
+
+''Tis called Rommany.'
+
+'I would gladly know it.'
+
+'You need it sorely.'
+
+'Would you teach it me?'
+
+'None sooner.'
+
+'Suppose we begin now?'
+
+'Suppose we do, brother.'
+
+'Not whilst I am here,' said the woman, flinging her knitting down,
+and starting upon her feet; 'not whilst I am here shall this gorgio
+learn Rommany. A pretty manoeuvre, truly; and what would be the
+end of it? I goes to the farming ker with my sister, to tell a
+fortune, and earn a few sixpences for the chabes. I sees a jolly
+pig in the yard, and I says to my sister, speaking Rommany, "Do so
+and so," says I; which the farming man hearing, asks what we are
+talking about. "Nothing at all, master," says I; "something about
+the weather"; when who should start up from behind a pale, where he
+has been listening, but this ugly gorgio, crying out, "They are
+after poisoning your pigs, neighbour!" so that we are glad to run,
+I and my sister, with perhaps the farm-engro shouting after us.
+Says my sister to me, when we have got fairly off, "How came that
+ugly one to know what you said to me?" Whereupon I answers, "It
+all comes of my son Jasper, who brings the gorgio to our fire, and
+must needs be teaching him." "Who was fool there?" says my sister.
+"Who, indeed, but my son Jasper," I answers. And here should I be
+a greater fool to sit still and suffer it; which I will not do. I
+do not like the look of him; he looks over-gorgeous. An ill day to
+the Romans when he masters Rommany; and, when I says that, I pens a
+true dukkerin.'
+
+'What do you call God, Jasper?'
+
+'You had better be jawing,' said the woman, raising her voice to a
+terrible scream; 'you had better be moving off, my gorgio; hang you
+for a keen one, sitting there by the fire, and stealing my language
+before my face. Do you know whom you have to deal with? Do you
+know that I am dangerous? My name is Herne, and I comes of the
+hairy ones!'
+
+And a hairy one she looked! She wore her hair clubbed upon her
+head, fastened with many strings and ligatures; but now, tearing
+these off, her locks, originally jet black, but now partially
+grizzled with age, fell down on every side of her, covering her
+face and back as far down as her knees. No she-bear of Lapland
+ever looked more fierce and hairy than did that woman, as standing
+in the open part of the tent, with her head bent down, and her
+shoulders drawn up, seemingly about to precipitate herself upon me,
+she repeated, again and again, -
+
+'My name is Herne, and I comes of the hairy ones!--'
+
+'I call God Duvel, brother.'
+
+'It sounds very like Devil.'
+
+'It doth, brother, it doth.'
+
+'And what do you call divine, I mean godly?'
+
+'Oh! I call that duvelskoe.'
+
+'I am thinking of something, Jasper.'
+
+'What are you thinking of, brother?'
+
+'Would it not be a rum thing if divine and devilish were originally
+one and the same word?'
+
+'It would, brother, it would--'
+
+. . .
+
+From this time I had frequent interviews with Jasper, sometimes in
+his tent, sometimes on the heath, about which we would roam for
+hours, discoursing on various matters. Sometimes, mounted on one
+of his horses, of which he had several, I would accompany him to
+various fairs and markets in the neighbourhood, to which he went on
+his own affairs, or those of his tribe. I soon found that I had
+become acquainted with a most singular people, whose habits and
+pursuits awakened within me the highest interest. Of all connected
+with them, however, their language was doubtless that which
+exercised the greatest influence over my imagination. I had at
+first some suspicion that it would prove a mere made-up gibberish;
+but I was soon undeceived. Broken, corrupted, and half in ruins as
+it was, it was not long before I found that it was an original
+speech, far more so, indeed, than one or two others of high name
+and celebrity, which, up to that time, I had been in the habit of
+regarding with respect and veneration. Indeed many obscure points
+connected with the vocabulary of these languages, and to which
+neither classic nor modern lore afforded any clue, I thought I
+could now clear up by means of this strange broken tongue, spoken
+by people who dwelt amongst thickets and furze bushes, in tents as
+tawny as their faces, and whom the generality of mankind
+designated, and with much semblance of justice, as thieves and
+vagabonds. But where did this speech come from, and who were they
+who spoke it? These were questions which I could not solve, and
+which Jasper himself, when pressed, confessed his inability to
+answer. 'But, whoever we be, brother,' said he, 'we are an old
+people, and not what folks in general imagine, broken gorgios; and,
+if we are not Egyptians, we are at any rate Rommany Chals!'
+
+'Rommany Chals! I should not wonder after all,' said I, 'that
+these people had something to do with the founding of Rome. Rome,
+it is said, was built by vagabonds, who knows but that some tribe
+of the kind settled down thereabouts, and called the town which
+they built after their name; but whence did they come originally?
+ah! there is the difficulty.'
+
+But abandoning these questions, which at that time were far too
+profound for me, I went on studying the language, and at the same
+time the characters and manners of these strange people. My rapid
+progress in the former astonished, while it delighted, Jasper.
+'We'll no longer call you Sap-engro, brother,' said he; but rather
+Lav-engro, which in the language of the gorgios meaneth Word-
+master.' 'Nay, brother,' said Tawno Chikno, with whom I had become
+very intimate, 'you had better call him Cooro-mengro, I have put on
+THE GLOVES with him, and find him a pure fist-master; I like him
+for that, for I am a Cooro-mengro myself, and was born at
+Brummagem.'
+
+'I likes him for his modesty,' said Mrs. Chikno; 'I never hears any
+ill words come from his mouth, but, on the contrary, much sweet
+language. His talk is golden, and he has taught my eldest to say
+his prayers in Rommany, which my rover had never the grace to do.'
+'He is the pal of my rom,' said Mrs. Petulengro, who was a very
+handsome woman, 'and therefore I likes him, and not the less for
+his being a rye; folks calls me high-minded, and perhaps I have
+reason to be so; before I married Pharaoh I had an offer from a
+lord--I likes the young rye, and, if he chooses to follow us, he
+shall have my sister. What say you, mother? should not the young
+rye have my sister Ursula?'
+
+'I am going to my people,' said Mrs. Herne, placing a bundle upon a
+donkey, which was her own peculiar property; 'I am going to
+Yorkshire, for I can stand this no longer. You say you like him:
+in that we differs; I hates the gorgio, and would like, speaking
+Romanly, to mix a little poison with his waters. And now go to
+Lundra, my children, I goes to Yorkshire. Take my blessing with
+ye, and a little bit of a gillie to cheer your hearts with when ye
+are weary. In all kinds of weather have we lived together; but now
+we are parted. I goes broken-hearted--I can't keep you company; ye
+are no longer Rommany. To gain a bad brother, ye have lost a good
+mother.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+
+What profession?--Not fitted for a Churchman--Erratic course--The
+bitter draught--Principle of woe--Thou wouldst be joyous--What ails
+you?--Poor child of clay.
+
+So the gypsies departed; Mrs. Herne to Yorkshire, and the rest to
+London: as for myself, I continued in the house of my parents,
+passing my time in much the same manner as I have already
+described, principally in philological pursuits; but I was now
+sixteen, and it was highly necessary that I should adopt some
+profession, unless I intended to fritter away my existence, and to
+be a useless burden to those who had given me birth; but what
+profession was I to choose? there being none in the wide world
+perhaps for which I was suited; nor was there any one for which I
+felt any decided inclination, though perhaps there existed within
+me a lurking penchant for the profession of arms, which was natural
+enough, as, from my earliest infancy, I had been accustomed to
+military sights and sounds; but this profession was then closed, as
+I have already hinted, and, as I believe, it has since continued,
+to those who, like myself, had no better claims to urge than the
+services of a father.
+
+My father, who, for certain reasons of his own, had no very high
+opinion of the advantages resulting from this career, would have
+gladly seen me enter the Church. His desire was, however,
+considerably abated by one or two passages of my life, which
+occurred to his recollection. He particularly dwelt on the
+unheard-of manner in which I had picked up the Irish language, and
+drew from thence the conclusion that I was not fitted by nature to
+cut a respectable figure at an English university. 'He will fly
+off in a tangent,' said he, 'and, when called upon to exhibit his
+skill in Greek, will be found proficient in Irish; I have observed
+the poor lad attentively, and really do not know what to make of
+him; but I am afraid he will never make a churchman!' And I have
+no doubt that my excellent father was right, both in his premisses
+and the conclusion at which he arrived. I had undoubtedly, at one
+period of my life, forsaken Greek for Irish, and the instructions
+of a learned Protestant divine for those of a Papist gossoon, the
+card-fancying Murtagh; and of late, though I kept it a strict
+secret, I had abandoned in a great measure the study of the
+beautiful Italian, and the recitation of the sonorous terzets of
+the Divine Comedy, in which at one time I took the greatest
+delight, in order to become acquainted with the broken speech, and
+yet more broken songs, of certain houseless wanderers whom I had
+met at a horse fair. Such an erratic course was certainly by no
+means in consonance with the sober and unvarying routine of college
+study. And my father, who was a man of excellent common sense,
+displayed it in not pressing me to adopt a profession which
+required qualities of mind which he saw I did not possess.
+
+Other professions were talked of, amongst which the law; but now an
+event occurred which had nearly stopped my career, and merged all
+minor points of solicitude in anxiety for my life. My strength and
+appetite suddenly deserted me, and I began to pine and droop. Some
+said that I had overgrown myself, and that these were the symptoms
+of a rapid decline; I grew worse and worse, and was soon stretched
+upon my bed, from which it seemed scarcely probable that I should
+ever more rise, the physicians themselves giving but slight hopes
+of my recovery: as for myself, I made up my mind to die, and felt
+quite resigned. I was sadly ignorant at that time, and, when I
+thought of death, it appeared to me little else than a pleasant
+sleep, and I wished for sleep, of which I got but little. It was
+well that I did not die that time, for I repeat that I was sadly
+ignorant of many important things. I did not die, for somebody
+coming gave me a strange, bitter draught; a decoction, I believe,
+of a bitter root which grows on commons and desolate places: and
+the person who gave it me was an ancient female, a kind of
+doctress, who had been my nurse in my infancy, and who, hearing of
+my state, had come to see me; so I drank the draught, and became a
+little better, and I continued taking draughts made from the bitter
+root till I manifested symptoms of convalescence.
+
+But how much more quickly does strength desert the human frame than
+return to it! I had become convalescent, it is true, but my state
+of feebleness was truly pitiable. I believe it is in that state
+that the most remarkable feature of human physiology frequently
+exhibits itself. Oh, how dare I mention the dark feeling of
+mysterious dread which comes over the mind, and which the lamp of
+reason, though burning bright the while, is unable to dispel! Art
+thou, as leeches say, the concomitant of disease--the result of
+shattered nerves? Nay, rather the principle of woe itself, the
+fountain-head of all sorrow coexistent with man, whose influence he
+feels when yet unborn, and whose workings he testifies with his
+earliest cries, when, 'drowned in tears,' he first beholds the
+light; for, as the sparks fly upward, so is man born to trouble,
+and woe doth he bring with him into the world, even thyself, dark
+one, terrible one, causeless, unbegotten, without a father. Oh,
+how unfrequently dost thou break down the barriers which divide
+thee from the poor soul of man, and overcast its sunshine with thy
+gloomy shadow. In the brightest days of prosperity--in the midst
+of health and wealth--how sentient is the poor human creature of
+thy neighbourhood! how instinctively aware that the flood-gates of
+horror may be cast open, and the dark stream engulf him for ever
+and ever! Then is it not lawful for man to exclaim, 'Better that I
+had never been born!' Fool, for thyself thou wast not born, but to
+fulfil the inscrutable decrees of thy Creator; and how dost thou
+know that this dark principle is not, after all, thy best friend;
+that it is not that which tempers the whole mass of thy corruption?
+It may be, for what thou knowest, the mother of wisdom, and of
+great works: it is the dread of the horror of the night that makes
+the pilgrim hasten on his way. When thou feelest it nigh, let thy
+safety word be 'Onward'; if thou tarry, thou art overwhelmed.
+Courage! build great works--'tis urging thee--it is ever nearest
+the favourites of God--the fool knows little of it. Thou wouldst
+be joyous, wouldst thou? then be a fool. What great work was ever
+the result of joy, the puny one? Who have been the wise ones, the
+mighty ones, the conquering ones of this earth? the joyous? I
+believe not. The fool is happy, or comparatively so--certainly the
+least sorrowful, but he is still a fool: and whose notes are
+sweetest, those of the nightingale, or of the silly lark?
+
+'What ails you, my child?' said a mother to her son, as he lay on a
+couch under the influence of the dreadful one; 'what ails you? you
+seem afraid!'
+
+Boy. And so I am; a dreadful fear is upon me.
+
+Mother. But of what? There is no one can harm you; of what are
+you apprehensive?
+
+Boy. Of nothing that I can express; I know not what I am afraid
+of, but afraid I am.
+
+Mother. Perhaps you see sights and visions; I knew a lady once who
+was continually thinking that she saw an armed man threaten her,
+but it was only an imagination, a phantom of the brain.
+
+Boy. No armed man threatens me; and 'tis not a thing like that
+would cause me any fear. Did an armed man threaten me, I would get
+up and fight him; weak as I am, I would wish for nothing better,
+for then, perhaps, I should lose this fear; mine is a dread of I
+know not what, and there the horror lies.
+
+Mother. Your forehead is cool, and your speech collected. Do you
+know where you are?
+
+Boy. I know where I am, and I see things just as they are; you are
+beside me, and upon the table there is a book which was written by
+a Florentine; all this I see, and that there is no ground for being
+afraid. I am, moreover, quite cool, and feel no pain--but, but -
+
+And then there was a burst of 'gemiti, sospiri ed alti guai.'
+Alas, alas, poor child of clay! as the sparks fly upward, so wast
+thou born to sorrow--Onward!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+
+Agreeable delusions--Youth--A profession--Ab Gwilym--Glorious
+English law--There they pass--My dear old master--The deal desk--
+Language of the tents--Where is Morfydd?--Go to--only once.
+
+It has been said by this or that writer, I scarcely know by whom,
+that, in proportion as we grow old, and our time becomes short, the
+swifter does it pass, until at last, as we approach the borders of
+the grave, it assumes all the speed and impetuosity of a river
+about to precipitate itself into an abyss; this is doubtless the
+case, provided we can carry to the grave those pleasant thoughts
+and delusions, which alone render life agreeable, and to which even
+to the very last we would gladly cling; but what becomes of the
+swiftness of time, when the mind sees the vanity of human pursuits?
+which is sure to be the case when its fondest, dearest hopes have
+been blighted at the very moment when the harvest was deemed
+secure. What becomes from that moment, I repeat, of the shortness
+of time? I put not the question to those who have never known that
+trial, they are satisfied with themselves and all around them, with
+what they have done, and yet hope to do; some carry their delusions
+with them to the borders of the grave, ay, to the very moment when
+they fall into it; a beautiful golden cloud surrounds them to the
+last, and such talk of the shortness of time: through the medium
+of that cloud the world has ever been a pleasant world to them;
+their only regret is that they are so soon to quit it; but oh, ye
+dear deluded hearts, it is not every one who is so fortunate!
+
+To the generality of mankind there is no period like youth. The
+generality are far from fortunate; but the period of youth, even to
+the least so, offers moments of considerable happiness, for they
+are not only disposed but able to enjoy most things within their
+reach. With what trifles at that period are we content; the things
+from which in after-life we should turn away in disdain please us
+then, for we are in the midst of a golden cloud, and everything
+seems decked with a golden hue. Never during any portion of my
+life did time flow on more speedily than during the two or three
+years immediately succeeding the period to which we arrived in the
+preceding chapter: since then it has flagged often enough;
+sometimes it has seemed to stand entirely still; and the reader may
+easily judge how it fares at the present, from the circumstance of
+my taking pen in hand, and endeavouring to write down the passages
+of my life--a last resource with most people. But at the period to
+which I allude I was just, as I may say, entering upon life; I had
+adopted a profession, and, to keep up my character, simultaneously
+with that profession--the study of a new language. I speedily
+became a proficient in the one, but ever remained a novice in the
+other: a novice in the law, but a perfect master in the Welsh
+tongue.
+
+Yes; very pleasant times were those, when within the womb of a
+lofty deal desk, behind which I sat for some eight hours every day,
+transcribing (when I imagined eyes were upon me) documents of every
+description in every possible hand, Blackstone kept company with Ab
+Gwilym--the polished English lawyer of the last century, who wrote
+long and prosy chapters on the rights of things--with a certain
+wild Welshman, who some four hundred years before that time indited
+immortal cowydds and odes to the wives of Cambrian chieftains--more
+particularly to one Morfydd, the wife of a certain hunchbacked
+dignitary called by the poet facetiously Bwa Bach--generally
+terminating with the modest request of a little private parlance
+beneath the greenwood bough, with no other witness than the eos, or
+nightingale, a request which, if the poet himself may be believed,
+rather a doubtful point, was seldom, very seldom, denied. And by
+what strange chance had Ab Gwilym and Blackstone, two personages so
+exceedingly different, been thus brought together? From what the
+reader already knows of me, he may be quite prepared to find me
+reading the former; but what could have induced me to take up
+Blackstone, or rather the law?
+
+I have ever loved to be as explicit as possible; on which account,
+perhaps, I never attained to any proficiency in the law, the
+essence of which is said to be ambiguity; most questions may be
+answered in a few words, and this among the rest, though connected
+with the law. My parents deemed it necessary that I should adopt
+some profession, they named the law; the law was as agreeable to me
+as any other profession within my reach, so I adopted the law, and
+the consequence was, that Blackstone, probably for the first time,
+found himself in company with Ab Gwilym. By adopting the law I had
+not ceased to be Lavengro.
+
+So I sat behind a desk many hours in the day, ostensibly engaged in
+transcribing documents of various kinds; the scene of my labours
+was a strange old house, occupying one side of a long and narrow
+court, into which, however, the greater number of the windows
+looked not, but into an extensive garden, filled with fruit trees,
+in the rear of a large, handsome house, belonging to a highly
+respectable gentleman, who, moyennant un douceur considerable, had
+consented to instruct my father's youngest son in the mysteries of
+glorious English law. Ah! would that I could describe the good
+gentleman in the manner which he deserves; he has long since sunk
+to his place in a respectable vault, in the aisle of a very
+respectable church, whilst an exceedingly respectable marble slab
+against the neighbouring wall tells on a Sunday some eye wandering
+from its prayer-book that his dust lies below; to secure such
+respectabilities in death, he passed a most respectable life. Let
+no one sneer, he accomplished much; his life was peaceful, so was
+his death. Are these trifles? I wish I could describe him, for I
+loved the man, and with reason, for he was ever kind to me, to whom
+kindness has not always been shown; and he was, moreover, a choice
+specimen of a class which no longer exists--a gentleman lawyer of
+the old school. I would fain describe him, but figures with which
+he has nought to do press forward and keep him from my mind's eye;
+there they pass, Spaniard and Moor, Gypsy, Turk, and livid Jew.
+But who is that? what that thick pursy man in the loose, snuff-
+coloured greatcoat, with the white stockings, drab breeches, and
+silver buckles on his shoes; that man with the bull neck, and
+singular head, immense in the lower part, especially about the
+jaws, but tapering upward like a pear; the man with the bushy
+brows, small gray eyes replete with catlike expression, whose
+grizzled hair is cut close, and whose ear-lobes are pierced with
+small golden rings? Oh! that is not my dear old master, but a
+widely different personage. Bon jour, Monsieur Vidocq! expressions
+de ma part a Monsieur Le Baron Taylor. But here he comes at last,
+my veritable old master!
+
+A more respectable-looking individual was never seen; he really
+looked what he was, a gentleman of the law--there was nothing of
+the pettifogger about him: somewhat under the middle size, and
+somewhat rotund in person, he was always dressed in a full suit of
+black, never worn long enough to become threadbare. His face was
+rubicund, and not without keenness; but the most remarkable thing
+about him was the crown of his head, which was bald, and shone like
+polished ivory, nothing more white, smooth, and lustrous. Some
+people have said that he wore false calves, probably because his
+black silk stockings never exhibited a wrinkle; they might just as
+well have said that he waddled, because his shoes creaked; for
+these last, which were always without a speck, and polished as his
+crown, though of a different hue, did creak, as he walked rather
+slowly. I cannot say that I ever saw him walk fast.
+
+He had a handsome practice, and might have died a very rich man,
+much richer than he did, had he not been in the habit of giving
+rather expensive dinners to certain great people, who gave him
+nothing in return except their company; I could never discover his
+reasons for doing so, as he always appeared to me a remarkably
+quiet man, by nature averse to noise and bustle; but in all
+dispositions there are anomalies: I have already said that he
+lived in a handsome house, and I may as well here add that he had a
+very handsome wife, who both dressed and talked exceedingly well.
+
+So I sat behind the deal desk, engaged in copying documents of
+various kinds; and in the apartment in which I sat, and in the
+adjoining ones, there were others, some of whom likewise copied
+documents, while some were engaged in the yet more difficult task
+of drawing them up; and some of these, sons of nobody, were paid
+for the work they did, whilst others, like myself, sons of
+somebody, paid for being permitted to work, which, as our principal
+observed, was but reasonable, forasmuch as we not unfrequently
+utterly spoiled the greater part of the work intrusted to our
+hands.
+
+There was one part of the day when I generally found myself quite
+alone, I mean at the hour when the rest went home to their
+principal meal; I, being the youngest, was left to take care of the
+premises, to answer the bell, and so forth, till relieved, which
+was seldom before the expiration of an hour and a half, when I
+myself went home; this period, however, was anything but
+disagreeable to me, for it was then that I did what best pleased
+me, and, leaving off copying the documents, I sometimes indulged in
+a fit of musing, my chin resting on both my hands, and my elbows
+planted on the desk; or, opening the desk aforesaid, I would take
+out one of the books contained within it, and the book which I took
+out was almost invariably, not Blackstone, but Ab Gwilym.
+
+Ah, that Ab Gwilym! I am much indebted to him, and it were
+ungrateful on my part not to devote a few lines to him and his
+songs in this my history. Start not, reader, I am not going to
+trouble you with a poetical dissertation; no, no; I know my duty
+too well to introduce anything of the kind; but I, who imagine I
+know several things, and amongst others the workings of your mind
+at this moment, have an idea that you are anxious to learn a
+little, a very little, more about Ab Gwilym than I have hitherto
+told you, the two or three words that I have dropped having
+awakened within you a languid kind of curiosity. I have no
+hesitation in saying that he makes one of the some half-dozen
+really great poets whose verses, in whatever language they wrote,
+exist at the present day, and are more or less known. It matters
+little how I first became acquainted with the writings of this man,
+and how the short thick volume, stuffed full with his immortal
+imaginings, first came into my hands. I was studying Welsh, and I
+fell in with Ab Gwilym by no very strange chance. But, before I
+say more about Ab Gwilym, I must be permitted--I really must--to
+say a word or two about the language in which he wrote, that same
+'Sweet Welsh.' If I remember right, I found the language a
+difficult one; in mastering it, however, I derived unexpected
+assistance from what of Irish remained in my head, and I soon found
+that they were cognate dialects, springing from some old tongue
+which itself, perhaps, had sprung from one much older. And here I
+cannot help observing cursorily that I every now and then, whilst
+studying this Welsh, generally supposed to be the original tongue
+of Britain, encountered words which, according to the
+lexicographers, were venerable words highly expressive, showing the
+wonderful power and originality of the Welsh, in which, however,
+they were no longer used in common discourse, but were relics,
+precious relics, of the first speech of Britain, perhaps of the
+world; with which words, however, I was already well acquainted,
+and which I had picked up, not in learned books, classic books, and
+in tongues of old renown, but whilst listening to Mr. Petulengro
+and Tawno Chikno talking over their everyday affairs in the
+language of the tents; which circumstance did not fail to give rise
+to deep reflection in those moments when, planting my elbows on the
+deal desk, I rested my chin upon my hands. But it is probable that
+I should have abandoned the pursuit of the Welsh language, after
+obtaining a very superficial acquaintance with it, had it not been
+for Ab Gwilym.
+
+A strange songster was that who, pretending to be captivated by
+every woman he saw, was, in reality, in love with nature alone--
+wild, beautiful, solitary nature--her mountains and cascades, her
+forests and streams, her birds, fishes, and wild animals. Go to,
+Ab Gwilym, with thy pseudo-amatory odes, to Morfydd, or this or
+that other lady, fair or ugly; little didst thou care for any of
+them, Dame Nature was thy love, however thou mayest seek to
+disguise the truth. Yes, yes, send thy love-message to Morfydd,
+the fair wanton. By whom dost thou send it, I would know? by the
+salmon forsooth, which haunts the rushing stream! the glorious
+salmon which bounds and gambols in the flashing water, and whose
+ways and circumstances thou so well describest--see, there he
+hurries upwards through the flashing water. Halloo! what a glimpse
+of glory--but where is Morfydd the while? What, another message to
+the wife of Bwa Bach? Ay, truly; and by whom?--the wind! the swift
+wind, the rider of the world, whose course is not to be stayed; who
+gallops o'er the mountain, and, when he comes to broadest river,
+asks neither for boat nor ferry; who has described the wind so
+well--his speed and power? But where is Morfydd? And now thou art
+awaiting Morfydd, the wanton, the wife of the Bwa Bach; thou art
+awaiting her beneath the tall trees, amidst the underwood; but she
+comes not; no Morfydd is there. Quite right, Ab Gwilym; what
+wantest thou with Morfydd? But another form is nigh at hand, that
+of red Reynard, who, seated upon his chine at the mouth of his
+cave, looks very composedly at thee; thou startest, bendest thy
+bow, thy cross-bow, intending to hit Reynard with the bolt just
+about the jaw; but the bow breaks, Reynard barks and disappears
+into his cave, which by thine own account reaches hell--and then
+thou ravest at the misfortune of thy bow, and the non-appearance of
+Morfydd, and abusest Reynard. Go to, thou carest neither for thy
+bow nor for Morfydd, thou merely seekest an opportunity to speak of
+Reynard; and who has described him like thee? the brute with the
+sharp shrill cry, the black reverse of melody, whose face sometimes
+wears a smile like the devil's in the Evangile. But now thou art
+actually with Morfydd; yes, she has stolen from the dwelling of the
+Bwa Bach and has met thee beneath those rocks--she is actually with
+thee, Ab Gwilym; but she is not long with thee, for a storm comes
+on, and thunder shatters the rocks--Morfydd flees! Quite right, Ab
+Gwilym; thou hadst no need of her, a better theme for song is the
+voice of the Lord--the rock-shatterer--than the frail wife of the
+Bwa Bach. Go to, Ab Gwilym, thou wast a wiser and a better man
+than thou wouldst fain have had people believe.
+
+But enough of thee and thy songs! Those times passed rapidly; with
+Ab Gwilym in my hand, I was in the midst of enchanted ground, in
+which I experienced sensations akin to those I had felt of yore
+whilst spelling my way through the wonderful book--the delight of
+my childhood. I say akin, for perhaps only once in our lives do we
+experience unmixed wonder and delight; and these I had already
+known.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+
+Silver gray--Good word for everybody--A remarkable youth--Clients--
+Grades in society--The archdeacon--Reading the Bible.
+
+'I am afraid that I have not acted very wisely in putting this boy
+of ours to the law,' said my father to my mother, as they sat
+together one summer evening in their little garden, beneath the
+shade of some tall poplars.
+
+Yes, there sat my father in the garden chair which leaned against
+the wall of his quiet home, the haven in which he had sought rest,
+and, praise be to God, found it, after many a year of poorly-
+requited toil; there he sat, with locks of silver gray which set
+off so nobly his fine bold but benevolent face, his faithful
+consort at his side, and his trusty dog at his feet--an eccentric
+animal of the genuine regimental breed, who, born amongst red
+coats, had not yet become reconciled to those of any other hue,
+barking and tearing at them when they drew near the door, but
+testifying his fond reminiscence of the former by hospitable
+waggings of the tail whenever a uniform made its appearance--at
+present a very unfrequent occurrence.
+
+'I am afraid I have not done right in putting him to the law,' said
+my father, resting his chin upon his gold-headed bamboo cane.
+
+'Why, what makes you think so?' said my mother.
+
+'I have been taking my usual evening walk up the road, with the
+animal here,' said my father; 'and, as I walked along, I overtook
+the boy's master, Mr. S-. We shook hands, and, after walking a
+little way farther, we turned back together, talking about this and
+that; the state of the country, the weather, and the dog, which he
+greatly admired; for he is a good-natured man, and has a good word
+for everybody, though the dog all but bit him when he attempted to
+coax his head; after the dog, we began talking about the boy; it
+was myself who introduced that subject: I thought it was a good
+opportunity to learn how he was getting on, so I asked what he
+thought of my son; he hesitated at first, seeming scarcely to know
+what to say; at length he came out with "Oh, a very extraordinary
+youth, a most remarkable youth indeed, captain!" "Indeed," said I,
+"I am glad to hear it, but I hope you find him steady?" "Steady,
+steady," said he, "why, yes, he's steady, I cannot say that he is
+not steady." "Come, come," said I, beginning to be rather uneasy,
+"I see plainly that you are not altogether satisfied with him; I
+was afraid you would not be, for, though he is my own son, I am
+anything but blind to his imperfections; but do tell me what
+particular fault you have to find with him; and I will do my best
+to make him alter his conduct." "No fault to find with him,
+captain, I assure you, no fault whatever; the youth is a remarkable
+youth, an extraordinary youth, only--" As I told you before, Mr.
+S- is the best-natured man in the world, and it was only with the
+greatest difficulty that I could get him to say a single word to
+the disadvantage of the boy, for whom he seems to entertain a very
+great regard. At last I forced the truth from him, and grieved I
+was to hear it; though I must confess that I was somewhat prepared
+for it. It appears that the lad has a total want of
+discrimination.'
+
+'I don't understand you,' said my mother.
+
+'You can understand nothing that would seem for a moment to impugn
+the conduct of that child. I am not, however, so blind; want of
+discrimination was the word, and it both sounds well, and is
+expressive. It appears that, since he has been placed where is, he
+has been guilty of the grossest blunders; only the other day, Mr.
+S- told me, as he was engaged in close conversation with one of his
+principal clients, the boy came to tell him that a person wanted
+particularly to speak with him; and, on going out, he found a
+lamentable figure with one eye, who came to ask for charity; whom,
+nevertheless, the lad had ushered into a private room, and
+installed in an arm-chair, like a justice of the peace, instead of
+telling him to go about his business--now what did that show, but a
+total want of discrimination?'
+
+'I wish we may never have anything worse to reproach him with,'
+said my mother.
+
+'I don't know what worse we could reproach him with,' said my
+father; 'I mean of course as far as his profession is concerned;
+discrimination is the very keystone; if he treated all people
+alike, he would soon become a beggar himself; there are grades in
+society as well as in the army; and according to those grades we
+should fashion our behaviour, else there would instantly be an end
+of all order and discipline. I am afraid that the child is too
+condescending to his inferiors, whilst to his superiors he is apt
+to be unbending enough; I don't believe that would do in the world;
+I am sure it would not in the army. He told me another anecdote
+with respect to his behaviour, which shocked me more than the other
+had done. It appears that his wife, who by the bye, is a very fine
+woman, and highly fashionable, gave him permission to ask the boy
+to tea one evening, for she is herself rather partial to the lad;
+there had been a great dinner party there that day, and there were
+a great many fashionable people, so the boy went and behaved very
+well and modestly for some time, and was rather noticed, till,
+unluckily, a very great gentleman, an archdeacon I think, put some
+questions to him, and, finding that he understood the languages,
+began talking to him about the classics. What do you think? the
+boy had the impertinence to say that the classics were much
+overvalued, and amongst other things that some horrid fellow or
+other, some Welshman I think (thank God it was not an Irishman),
+was a better poet than Ovid; the company were of course horrified;
+the archdeacon, who is seventy years of age, and has seven thousand
+a year, took snuff and turned away. Mrs. S- turned up her eyes,
+Mr. S-, however, told me with his usual good-nature (I suppose to
+spare my feelings) that he rather enjoyed the thing, and thought it
+a capital joke.'
+
+'I think so too,' said my mother.
+
+'I do not,' said my father; 'that a boy of his years should
+entertain an opinion of his own--I mean one which militates against
+all established authority--is astounding; as well might a raw
+recruit pretend to offer an unfavourable opinion on the manual and
+platoon exercise; the idea is preposterous; the lad is too
+independent by half. I never yet knew one of an independent spirit
+get on in the army, the secret of success in the army is the spirit
+of subordination.'
+
+'Which is a poor spirit after all,' said my mother; 'but the child
+is not in the army.'
+
+'And it is well for him that he is not,' said my father; 'but you
+do not talk wisely, the world is a field of battle, and he who
+leaves the ranks, what can he expect but to be cut down? I call
+his present behaviour leaving the ranks, and going vapouring about
+without orders; his only chance lies in falling in again as quick
+as possible; does he think he can carry the day by himself? an
+opinion of his own at these years--I confess I am exceedingly
+uneasy about the lad.'
+
+'You make me uneasy too,' said my mother; 'but I really think you
+are too hard upon the child; he is not a bad child, after all,
+though not, perhaps, all you could wish him; he is always ready to
+read the Bible. Let us go in; he is in the room above us; at least
+he was two hours ago, I left him there bending over his books; I
+wonder what he has been doing all this time, it is now getting
+late; let us go in, and he shall read to us.'
+
+'I am getting old,' said my father; 'and I love to hear the Bible
+read to me, for my own sight is something dim; yet I do not wish
+the child to read to me this night, I cannot so soon forget what I
+have heard; but I hear my eldest son's voice, he is now entering
+the gate; he shall read the Bible to us this night. What say you?'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+
+The eldest son--Saying of wild Finland--The critical time--Vaunting
+polls--One thing wanted--A father's blessing--Miracle of art--The
+Pope's house--Young enthusiast--Pictures of England--Persist and
+wrestle--The little dark man.
+
+The eldest son! The regard and affection which my father
+entertained for his first-born were natural enough, and appeared to
+none more so than myself, who cherished the same feelings towards
+him. What he was as a boy the reader already knows, for the reader
+has seen him as a boy; fain would I describe him at the time of
+which I am now speaking, when he had attained the verge of manhood,
+but the pen fails me, and I attempt not the task; and yet it ought
+to be an easy one, for how frequently does his form visit my mind's
+eye in slumber and in wakefulness, in the light of day and in the
+night watches; but last night I saw him in his beauty and his
+strength; he was about to speak, and my ear was on the stretch,
+when at once I awoke, and there was I alone, and the night storm
+was howling amidst the branches of the pines which surround my
+lonely dwelling: 'Listen to the moaning of the pine, at whose root
+thy hut is fastened,'--a saying that, of wild Finland, in which
+there is wisdom; I listened and thought of life and death. . . . Of
+all human beings that I have ever known, that elder brother was the
+most frank and generous, ay, and the quickest and readiest, and the
+best adapted to do a great thing needful at the critical time, when
+the delay of a moment would be fatal. I have known him dash from a
+steep bank into a stream in his full dress, and pull out a man who
+was drowning; yet there were twenty others bathing in the water,
+who might have saved him by putting out a hand, without
+inconvenience to themselves, which, however, they did not do, but
+stared with stupid surprise at the drowning one's struggles. Yes,
+whilst some shouted from the bank to those in the water to save the
+drowning one, and those in the water did nothing, my brother
+neither shouted nor stood still, but dashed from the bank and did
+the one thing needful, which, under such circumstances, not one man
+in a million would have done. Now, who can wonder that a brave old
+man should love a son like this, and prefer him to any other?
+
+'My boy, my own boy, you are the very image of myself, the day I
+took off my coat in the park to fight Big Ben,' said my father, on
+meeting his son wet and dripping, immediately after his bold feat.
+And who cannot excuse the honest pride of the old man--the stout
+old man?
+
+Ay, old man, that son was worthy of thee, and thou wast worthy of
+such a son; a noble specimen wast thou of those strong single-
+minded Englishmen, who, without making a parade either of religion
+or loyalty, feared God and honoured their king, and were not
+particularly friendly to the French, whose vaunting polls they
+occasionally broke, as at Minden and at Malplaquet, to the
+confusion vast of the eternal foes of the English land. I, who was
+so little like thee that thou understoodst me not, and in whom with
+justice thou didst feel so little pride, had yet perception enough
+to see all thy worth, and to feel it an honour to be able to call
+myself thy son; and if at some no distant time, when the foreign
+enemy ventures to insult our shore, I be permitted to break some
+vaunting poll, it will be a triumph to me to think that, if thou
+hadst lived, thou wouldst have hailed the deed, and mightest yet
+discover some distant resemblance to thyself, the day when thou
+didst all but vanquish the mighty Brain.
+
+I have already spoken of my brother's taste for painting, and the
+progress he had made in that beautiful art. It is probable that,
+if circumstances had not eventually diverted his mind from the
+pursuit, he would have attained excellence, and left behind him
+some enduring monument of his powers, for he had an imagination to
+conceive, and that yet rarer endowment, a hand capable of giving
+life, body, and reality to the conceptions of his mind; perhaps he
+wanted one thing, the want of which is but too often fatal to the
+sons of genius, and without which genius is little more than a
+splendid toy in the hands of the possessor--perseverance, dogged
+perseverance, in his proper calling; otherwise, though the grave
+had closed over him, he might still be living in the admiration of
+his fellow-creatures. O ye gifted ones, follow your calling, for,
+however various your talents may be, ye can have but one calling
+capable of leading ye to eminence and renown; follow resolutely the
+one straight path before you, it is that of your good angel, let
+neither obstacles nor temptations induce ye to leave it; bound
+along if you can; if not, on hands and knees follow it, perish in
+it, if needful; but ye need not fear that; no one ever yet died in
+the true path of his calling before he had attained the pinnacle.
+Turn into other paths, and for a momentary advantage or
+gratification ye have sold your inheritance, your immortality. Ye
+will never be heard of after death.
+
+'My father has given me a hundred and fifty pounds,' said my
+brother to me one morning, 'and something which is better--his
+blessing. I am going to leave you.'
+
+'And where are you going?'
+
+'Where? to the great city; to London, to be sure.'
+
+'I should like to go with you.'
+
+'Pooh,' said my brother, 'what should you do there? But don't be
+discouraged, I daresay a time will come when you too will go to
+London.'
+
+And, sure enough, so it did, and all but too soon.
+
+'And what do you purpose doing there?' I demanded.
+
+'Oh, I go to improve myself in art, to place myself under some
+master of high name, at least I hope to do so eventually. I have,
+however, a plan in my head, which I should wish first to execute;
+indeed, I do not think I can rest till I have done so; every one
+talks so much about Italy, and the wondrous artists which it has
+produced, and the wondrous pictures which are to be found there;
+now I wish to see Italy, or rather Rome, the great city, for I am
+told that in a certain room there is contained the grand miracle of
+art.'
+
+'And what do you call it?'
+
+'The Transfiguration, painted by one Rafael, and it is said to be
+the greatest work of the greatest painter whom the world has ever
+known. I suppose it is because everybody says so, that I have such
+a strange desire to see it. I have already made myself well
+acquainted with its locality, and think that I could almost find my
+way to it blindfold. When I have crossed the Tiber, which, as you
+are aware, runs through Rome, I must presently turn to the right,
+up a rather shabby street, which communicates with a large square,
+the farther end of which is entirely occupied by the front of an
+immense church, with a dome which ascends almost to the clouds, and
+this church they call St. Peter's.'
+
+'Ay, ay,' said I, 'I have read about that in Keysler's Travels.'
+
+'Before the church, in the square, are two fountains, one on either
+side, casting up water in showers; between them, in the midst, is
+an obelisk, brought from Egypt, and covered with mysterious
+writing; on your right rises an edifice, not beautiful nor grand,
+but huge and bulky, where lives a strange kind of priest whom men
+call the Pope, a very horrible old individual, who would fain keep
+Christ in leading strings, calls the Virgin Mary the Queen of
+Heaven, and himself God's Lieutenant-General upon earth.'
+
+'Ay, ay,' said I, 'I have read of him in Foxe's Book of Martyrs.'
+
+'Well, I do not go straight forward up the flight of steps
+conducting into the church, but I turn to the right, and, passing
+under the piazza, find myself in a court of the huge bulky house;
+and then ascend various staircases, and pass along various
+corridors and galleries, all of which I could describe to you,
+though I have never seen them; at last a door is unlocked, and we
+enter a room rather high, but not particularly large, communicating
+with another room, into which, however, I do not go, though there
+are noble things in that second room--immortal things, by immortal
+artists; amongst others, a grand piece of Correggio; I do not enter
+it, for the grand picture of the world is not there; but I stand
+still immediately on entering the first room, and I look straight
+before me, neither to the right nor left, though there are noble
+things both on the right and left, for immediately before me at the
+farther end, hanging against the wall, is a picture which arrests
+me, and I can see nothing else, for that picture at the farther end
+hanging against the wall is the picture of the world. . . .'
+
+Yes, go thy way, young enthusiast, and, whether to London town or
+to old Rome, may success attend thee; yet strange fears assail me
+and misgivings on thy account. Thou canst not rest, thou say'st,
+till thou hast seen the picture in the chamber at old Rome hanging
+over against the wall; ay, and thus thou dust exemplify thy
+weakness--thy strength too, it may be--for the one idea, fantastic
+yet lovely, which now possesses thee, could only have originated in
+a genial and fervent brain. Well, go, if thou must go; yet it
+perhaps were better for thee to bide in thy native land, and there,
+with fear and trembling, with groanings, with straining eyeballs,
+toil, drudge, slave, till thou hast made excellence thine own; thou
+wilt scarcely acquire it by staring at the picture over against the
+door in the high chamber of old Rome. Seekest thou inspiration?
+thou needest it not, thou hast it already; and it was never yet
+found by crossing the sea. What hast thou to do with old Rome, and
+thou an Englishman? 'Did thy blood never glow at the mention of
+thy native land?' as an artist merely? Yes, I trow, and with
+reason, for thy native land need not grudge old Rome her 'pictures
+of the world'; she has pictures of her own, 'pictures of England';
+and is it a new thing to toss up caps and shout--England against
+the world? Yes, against the world in all, in all; in science and
+in arms, in minstrel strain, and not less in the art 'which enables
+the hand to deceive the intoxicated soul by means of pictures.'
+Seek'st models? to Gainsborough and Hogarth turn, not names of the
+world, maybe, but English names--and England against the world! A
+living master? why, there he comes! thou hast had him long, he has
+long guided thy young hand towards the excellence which is yet far
+from thee, but which thou canst attain if thou shouldst persist and
+wrestle, even as he has done, 'midst gloom and despondency--ay, and
+even contempt; he who now comes up the creaking stair to thy little
+studio in the second floor to inspect thy last effort before thou
+departest, the little stout man whose face is very dark, and whose
+eye is vivacious; that man has attained excellence, destined some
+day to be acknowledged, though not till he is cold, and his mortal
+part returned to its kindred clay. He has painted, not pictures of
+the world, but English pictures, such as Gainsborough himself might
+have done; beautiful rural pieces, with trees which might well
+tempt the wild birds to perch upon them, thou needest not run to
+Rome, brother, where lives the old Mariolater, after pictures of
+the world, whilst at home there are pictures of England; nor
+needest thou even go to London, the big city, in search of a
+master, for thou hast one at home in the old East Anglian town who
+can instruct thee whilst thou needest instruction: better stay at
+home, brother, at least for a season, and toil and strive 'midst
+groanings and despondency till thou hast attained excellence even
+as he has done--the little dark man with the brown coat and the
+top-boots, whose name will one day be considered the chief ornament
+of the old town, and whose works will at no distant period rank
+amongst the proudest pictures of England--and England against the
+world!--thy master, my brother, thy, at present, all too little
+considered master--Crome.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+
+Desire for novelty--Lives of the lawless--Countenances--Old yeoman
+and dame--We live near the sea--Uncouth-looking volume--The other
+condition--Draoitheac--A dilemma--The Antinomian--Lodowick
+Muggleton--Almost blind--Anders Vedel.
+
+But to proceed with my own story: I now ceased all at once to take
+much pleasure in the pursuits which formerly interested me, I
+yawned over Ab Gwilym, even as I now in my mind's eye perceive the
+reader yawning over the present pages. What was the cause of this?
+Constitutional lassitude, or a desire for novelty? Both it is
+probable had some influence in the matter, but I rather think that
+the latter feeling was predominant. The parting words of my
+brother had sunk into my mind. He had talked of travelling in
+strange regions and seeing strange and wonderful objects, and my
+imagination fell to work, and drew pictures of adventures wild and
+fantastic, and I thought what a fine thing it must be to travel,
+and I wished that my father would give me his blessing, and the
+same sum that he had given my brother, and bid me go forth into the
+world; always forgetting that I had neither talents nor energies at
+this period which would enable me to make any successful figure on
+its stage.
+
+And then I again sought up the book which had so captivated me in
+my infancy, and I read it through; and I sought up others of a
+similar character, and in seeking for them I met books also of
+adventure, but by no means of a harmless description, lives of
+wicked and lawless men, Murray and Latroon--books of singular
+power, but of coarse and prurient imagination--books at one time
+highly in vogue; now deservedly forgotten, and most difficult to be
+found.
+
+And when I had gone through these books, what was my state of mind?
+I had derived entertainment from their perusal, but they left me
+more listless and unsettled than before, and really knew not what
+to do to pass my time. My philological studies had become
+distasteful, and I had never taken any pleasure in the duties of my
+profession. I sat behind my desk in a state of torpor, my mind
+almost as blank as the paper before me, on which I rarely traced a
+line. It was always a relief to hear the bell ring, as it afforded
+me an opportunity of doing something which I was yet capable of
+doing, to rise and open the door and stare in the countenances of
+the visitors. All of a sudden I fell to studying countenances, and
+soon flattered myself that I had made considerable progress in the
+science.
+
+'There is no faith in countenances,' said some Roman of old; 'trust
+anything but a person's countenance.' 'Not trust a man's
+countenance?' say some moderns, 'why, it is the only thing in many
+people that we can trust; on which account they keep it most
+assiduously out of the way. Trust not a man's words if you please,
+or you may come to very erroneous conclusions; but at all times
+place implicit confidence in a man's countenance, in which there is
+no deceit; and of necessity there can be none. If people would but
+look each other more in the face, we should have less cause to
+complain of the deception of the world; nothing so easy as
+physiognomy nor so useful.' Somewhat in this latter strain I
+thought at the time of which I am speaking. I am now older, and,
+let us hope, less presumptuous. It is true that in the course of
+my life I have scarcely ever had occasion to repent placing
+confidence in individuals whose countenances have prepossessed me
+in their favour; though to how many I may have been unjust, from
+whose countenances I may have drawn unfavourable conclusions, is
+another matter.
+
+But it had been decreed by that Fate which governs our every action
+that I was soon to return to my old pursuits. It was written that
+I should not yet cease to be Lav-engro, though I had become, in my
+own opinion, a kind of Lavater. It is singular enough that my
+renewed ardour for philology seems to have been brought about
+indirectly by my physiognomical researches, in which had I not
+indulged, the event which I am about to relate, as far as connected
+with myself, might never have occurred. Amongst the various
+countenances which I admitted during the period of my answering the
+bell, there were two which particularly pleased me, and which
+belonged to an elderly yeoman and his wife, whom some little
+business had brought to our law sanctuary. I believe they
+experienced from me some kindness and attention, which won the old
+people's hearts. So, one day, when their little business had been
+brought to a conclusion, and they chanced to be alone with me, who
+was seated as usual behind the deal desk in the outer room, the old
+man with some confusion began to tell me how grateful himself and
+dame felt for the many attentions I had shown them, and how
+desirous they were to make me some remuneration. 'Of course,' said
+the old man, 'we must be cautious what we offer to so fine a young
+gentleman as yourself; we have, however, something we think will
+just suit the occasion, a strange kind of thing which people say is
+a book, though no one that my dame or myself have shown it to can
+make anything out of it; so as we are told that you are a fine
+young gentleman, who can read all the tongues of the earth and
+stars, as the Bible says, we thought, I and my dame, that it would
+be just the thing you would like and my dame has it now at the
+bottom of her basket.'
+
+'A book!' said I, 'how did you come by it?'
+
+'We live near the sea,' said the old man; 'so near that sometimes
+our thatch is wet with the spray; and it may now be a year ago that
+there was a fearful storm, and a ship was driven ashore during the
+night, and ere the morn was a complete wreck. When we got up at
+daylight, there were the poor shivering crew at our door; they were
+foreigners, red-haired men, whose speech we did not understand; but
+we took them in, and warmed them, and they remained with us three
+days; and when they went away they left behind them this thing,
+here it is, part of the contents of a box which was washed ashore.'
+
+'And did you learn who they were?'
+
+'Why, yes; they made us understand that they were Danes.'
+
+Danes! thought I, Danes! and instantaneously, huge and grisly,
+appeared to rise up before my vision the skull of the old pirate
+Dane, even as I had seen it of yore in the pent-house of the
+ancient church to which, with my mother and my brother, I had
+wandered on the memorable summer eve.
+
+And now the old man handed me the book; a strange and uncouth-
+looking volume enough. It was not very large, but instead of the
+usual covering was bound in wood, and was compressed with strong
+iron clasps. It was a printed book, but the pages were not of
+paper, but vellum, and the characters were black, and resembled
+those generally termed Gothic.
+
+'It is certainly a curious book,' said I; 'and I should like to
+have it, but I can't think of taking it as a gift, I must give you
+an equivalent, I never take presents from anybody.'
+
+The old man whispered with his dame and chuckled, and then turned
+his face to me, and said, with another chuckle, 'Well, we have
+agreed about the price, but, maybe, you will not consent.'
+
+'I don't know,' said I; 'what do you demand?'
+
+'Why, that you shake me by the hand, and hold out your cheek to my
+old dame, she has taken an affection to you.'
+
+'I shall be very glad to shake you by the hand,' said I, 'but as
+for the other condition, it requires consideration.'
+
+'No consideration at all,' said the old man, with something like a
+sigh; 'she thinks you like her son, our only child, that was lost
+twenty years ago in the waves of the North Sea.'
+
+'Oh, that alters the case altogether,' said I, 'and of course I can
+have no objection.'
+
+And now at once I shook off my listlessness, to enable me to do
+which nothing could have happened more opportune than the above
+event. The Danes, the Danes! And was I at last to become
+acquainted, and in so singular a manner, with the speech of a
+people which had as far back as I could remember exercised the
+strongest influence over my imagination, as how should they not!--
+in infancy there was the summer-eve adventure, to which I often
+looked back, and always with a kind of strange interest with
+respect to those to whom such gigantic and wondrous bones could
+belong as I had seen on that occasion; and, more than this, I had
+been in Ireland, and there, under peculiar circumstances, this same
+interest was increased tenfold. I had mingled much whilst there
+with the genuine Irish--a wild but kind-hearted race, whose
+conversation was deeply imbued with traditionary lore, connected
+with the early history of their own romantic land, and from them I
+heard enough of the Danes, but nothing commonplace, for they never
+mentioned them but in terms which tallied well with my own
+preconceived ideas. For at an early period the Danes had invaded
+Ireland, and had subdued it, and, though eventually driven out, had
+left behind them an enduring remembrance in the minds of the
+people, who loved to speak of their strength and their stature, in
+evidence of which they would point to the ancient raths or mounds
+where the old Danes were buried, and where bones of extraordinary
+size were occasionally exhumed. And as the Danes surpassed other
+people in strength, so, according to my narrators, they also
+excelled all others in wisdom, or rather in Draoitheac, or magic,
+for they were powerful sorcerers, they said, compared with whom the
+fairy men of the present day knew nothing at all, at all; and,
+amongst other wonderful things, they knew how to make strong beer
+from the heather that grows upon the bogs. Little wonder if the
+interest, the mysterious interest, which I had early felt about the
+Danes, was increased tenfold by my sojourn in Ireland.
+
+And now I had in my possession a Danish book, which, from its
+appearance, might be supposed to have belonged to the very old
+Danes indeed; but how was I to turn it to any account? I had the
+book, it is true, but I did not understand the language, and how
+was I to overcome that difficulty? hardly by poring over the book;
+yet I did pore over the book, daily and nightly, till my eyes were
+dim, and it appeared to me that every now and then I encountered
+words which I understood--English words, though strangely
+disguised; and I said to myself, Courage! English and Danish are
+cognate dialects, a time will come when I shall understand this
+Danish; and then I pored over the book again, but with all my
+poring I could not understand it; and then I became angry, and I
+bit my lips till the blood came; and I occasionally tore a handful
+from my hair, and flung it upon the floor, but that did not mend
+the matter, for still I did not understand the book, which,
+however, I began to see was written in rhyme--a circumstance rather
+difficult to discover at first, the arrangement of the lines not
+differing from that which is employed in prose; and its being
+written in rhyme made me only the more eager to understand it.
+
+But I toiled in vain, for I had neither grammar nor dictionary of
+the language; and when I sought for them could procure neither; and
+I was much dispirited, till suddenly a bright thought came into my
+head, and I said, although I cannot obtain a dictionary or grammar,
+I can perhaps obtain a Bible in this language, and if I can procure
+a Bible, I can learn the language, for the Bible in every tongue
+contains the same thing, and I have only to compare the words of
+the Danish Bible with those of the English, and, if I persevere, I
+shall in time acquire the language of the Danes; and I was pleased
+with the thought, which I considered to be a bright one, and I no
+longer bit my lips, or tore my hair, but I took my hat, and, going
+forth, I flung my hat into the air.
+
+And when my hat came down, I put it on my head and commenced
+running, directing my course to the house of the Antinomian
+preacher, who sold books, and whom I knew to have Bibles in various
+tongues amongst the number, and I arrived out of breath, and I
+found the Antinomian in his little library, dusting his books; and
+the Antinomian clergyman was a tall man of about seventy, who wore
+a hat with a broad brim and a shallow crown, and whose manner of
+speaking was exceedingly nasal; and when I saw him, I cried, out of
+breath, 'Have you a Danish Bible?' and he replied, 'What do you
+want it for, friend?' and I answered, 'To learn Danish by'; 'And
+maybe to learn thy duty,' replied the Antinomian preacher. 'Truly,
+I have it not, but, as you are a customer of mine, I will endeavour
+to procure you one, and I will write to that laudable society which
+men call the Bible Society, an unworthy member of which I am, and I
+hope by next week to procure what you desire.'
+
+And when I heard these words of the old man, I was very glad, and
+my heart yearned towards him, and I would fain enter into
+conversation with him; and I said, 'Why are you an Antinomian? For
+my part I would rather be a dog than belong to such a religion.'
+'Nay, friend,' said the Antinomian, 'thou forejudgest us; know that
+those who call us Antinomians call us so despitefully, we do not
+acknowledge the designation.' 'Then you do not set all law at
+nought?' said I. 'Far be it from us,' said the old man, 'we only
+hope that, being sanctified by the Spirit from above, we have no
+need of the law to keep us in order. Did you ever hear tell of
+Lodowick Muggleton?' 'Not I.' 'That is strange; know then that he
+was the founder of our poor society, and after him we are
+frequently, though opprobriously, termed Muggletonians, for we are
+Christians. Here is his book, which, perhaps, you can do no better
+than purchase, you are fond of rare books, and this is both curious
+and rare; I will sell it cheap. Thank you, and now be gone, I will
+do all I can to procure the Bible.'
+
+And in this manner I procured the Danish Bible, and I commenced my
+task; first of all, however, I locked up in a closet the volume
+which had excited my curiosity, saying, 'Out of this closet thou
+comest not till I deem myself competent to read thee,' and then I
+sat down in right earnest, comparing every line in the one version
+with the corresponding one in the other; and I passed entire nights
+in this manner, till I was almost blind, and the task was tedious
+enough at first, but I quailed not, and soon began to make
+progress: and at first I had a misgiving that the old book might
+not prove a Danish book, but was soon reassured by reading many
+words in the Bible which I remembered to have seen in the book; and
+then I went on right merrily, and I found that the language which I
+was studying was by no means a difficult one, and in less than a
+month I deemed myself able to read the book.
+
+Anon, I took the book from the closet, and proceeded to make myself
+master of its contents; I had some difficulty, for the language of
+the book, though in the main the same as the language of the Bible,
+differed from it in some points, being apparently a more ancient
+dialect; by degrees, however, I overcame this difficulty, and I
+understood the contents of the book, and well did they correspond
+with all those ideas in which I had indulged connected with the
+Danes. For the book was a book of ballads, about the deeds of
+knights and champions, and men of huge stature; ballads which from
+time immemorial had been sung in the North, and which some two
+centuries before the time of which I am speaking had been collected
+by one Anders Vedel, who lived with a certain Tycho Brahe, and
+assisted him in making observations upon the heavenly bodies, at a
+place called Uranias Castle, on the little island of Hveen, in the
+Cattegat.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+
+The two individuals--The long pipe--The Germans--Werther--The
+female Quaker--Suicide--Gibbon--Jesus of Bethlehem--Fill your
+glass--Shakespeare--English at Minden--Melancholy Swayne Vonved--
+The fifth dinner--Strange doctrines--Are you happy?--Improve
+yourself in German.
+
+It might be some six months after the events last recorded, that
+two individuals were seated together in a certain room, in a
+certain street of the old town which I have so frequently had
+occasion to mention in the preceding pages; one of them was an
+elderly, and the other a very young man, and they sat on either
+side of a fireplace, beside a table on which were fruit and wine;
+the room was a small one, and in its furniture exhibited nothing
+remarkable. Over the mantelpiece, however, hung a small picture
+with naked figures in the foreground, and with much foliage behind.
+It might not have struck every beholder, for it looked old and
+smoke-dried; but a connoisseur, on inspecting it closely, would
+have pronounced it to be a judgment of Paris, and a masterpiece of
+the Flemish school.
+
+The forehead of the elder individual was high, and perhaps appeared
+more so than it really was, from the hair being carefully brushed
+back, as if for the purpose of displaying to the best advantage
+that part of the cranium; his eyes were large and full, and of a
+light brown, and might have been called heavy and dull, had they
+not been occasionally lighted up by a sudden gleam--not so
+brilliant however as that which at every inhalation shone from the
+bowl of the long clay pipe which he was smoking, but which, from a
+certain sucking sound which about this time began to be heard from
+the bottom, appeared to be giving notice that it would soon require
+replenishment from a certain canister, which, together with a
+lighted taper, stood upon the table beside him.
+
+'You do not smoke?' said he, at length, laying down his pipe, and
+directing his glance to his companion.
+
+Now there was at least one thing singular connected with this last,
+namely, the colour of his hair, which, notwithstanding his extreme
+youth, appeared to be rapidly becoming gray. He had very long
+limbs, and was apparently tall of stature, in which he differed
+from his elderly companion, who must have been somewhat below the
+usual height.
+
+'No, I can't smoke,' said the youth, in reply to the observation of
+the other; 'I have often tried, but could never succeed to my
+satisfaction.'
+
+'Is it possible to become a good German without smoking?' said the
+senior, half speaking to himself.
+
+'I daresay not,' said the youth; 'but I shan't break my heart on
+that account.'
+
+'As for breaking your heart, of course you would never think of
+such a thing; he is a fool who breaks his heart on any account; but
+it is good to be a German, the Germans are the most philosophic
+people in the world, and the greatest smokers: now I trace their
+philosophy to their smoking.'
+
+'I have heard say their philosophy is all smoke--is that your
+opinion?'
+
+'Why, no; but smoking has a sedative effect upon the nerves, and
+enables a man to bear the sorrows of this life (of which every one
+has his share) not only decently, but dignifiedly. Suicide is not
+a national habit in Germany as it is in England.'
+
+'But that poor creature, Werther, who committed suicide, was a
+German.'
+
+'Werther is a fictitious character, and by no means a felicitous
+one; I am no admirer either of Werther or his author. But I should
+say that, if there ever was a Werther in Germany, he did not smoke.
+Werther, as you very justly observe, was a poor creature.'
+
+'And a very sinful one; I have heard my parents say that suicide is
+a great crime.'
+
+'Broadly, and without qualification, to say that suicide is a
+crime, is speaking somewhat unphilosophically. No doubt suicide,
+under many circumstances, is a crime, a very heinous one. When the
+father of a family, for example, to escape from certain
+difficulties, commits suicide, he commits a crime; there are those
+around him who look to him for support, by the law of nature, and
+he has no right to withdraw himself from those who have a claim
+upon his exertions; he is a person who decamps with other people's
+goods as well as his own. Indeed, there can be no crime which is
+not founded upon the depriving others of something which belongs to
+them. A man is hanged for setting fire to his house in a crowded
+city, for he burns at the same time or damages those of other
+people; but if a man who has a house on a heath sets fire to it, he
+is not hanged, for he has not damaged or endangered any other
+individual's property, and the principle of revenge, upon which all
+punishment is founded, has not been aroused. Similar to such a
+case is that of the man who, without any family ties, commits
+suicide; for example, were I to do the thing this evening, who
+would have a right to call me to account? I am alone in the world,
+have no family to support, and, so far from damaging any one,
+should even benefit my heir by my accelerated death. However, I am
+no advocate for suicide under any circumstances; there is something
+undignified in it, unheroic, un-Germanic. But if you must commit
+suicide--and there is no knowing to what people may be brought--
+always contrive to do it as decorously as possible; the decencies,
+whether of life or of death, should never be lost sight of. I
+remember a female Quaker who committed suicide by cutting her
+throat, but she did it decorously and decently: kneeling down over
+a pail, so that not one drop fell upon the floor; thus exhibiting
+in her last act that nice sense of neatness for which Quakers are
+distinguished. I have always had a respect for that woman's
+memory.'
+
+And here, filling his pipe from the canister, and lighting it at
+the taper, he recommenced smoking calmly and sedately.
+
+'But is not suicide forbidden in the Bible?' the youth demanded.
+
+'Why, no; but what though it were!--the Bible is a respectable
+book, but I should hardly call it one whose philosophy is of the
+soundest. I have said that it is a respectable book; I mean
+respectable from its antiquity, and from containing, as Herder
+says, "the earliest records of the human race," though those
+records are far from being dispassionately written, on which
+account they are of less value than they otherwise might have been.
+There is too much passion in the Bible, too much violence; now, to
+come to all truth, especially historic truth, requires cool
+dispassionate investigation, for which the Jews do not appear to
+have ever been famous. We are ourselves not famous for it, for we
+are a passionate people; the Germans are not--they are not a
+passionate people--a people celebrated for their oaths; we are.
+The Germans have many excellent historic writers, we . . . 'tis
+true we have Gibbon . . . You have been reading Gibbon--what do you
+think of him?'
+
+'I think him a very wonderful writer.'
+
+'He is a wonderful writer--one sui generis--uniting the perspicuity
+of the English--for we are perspicuous--with the cool dispassionate
+reasoning of the Germans. Gibbon sought after the truth, found it,
+and made it clear.'
+
+'Then you think Gibbon a truthful writer?'
+
+'Why, yes; who shall convict Gibbon of falsehood? Many people have
+endeavoured to convict Gibbon of falsehood; they have followed him
+in his researches, and have never found him once tripping. Oh, he
+is a wonderful writer! his power of condensation is admirable; the
+lore of the whole world is to be found in his pages. Sometimes in
+a single note he has given us the result of the study of years; or,
+to speak metaphorically, "he has ransacked a thousand Gulistans,
+and has condensed all his fragrant booty into a single drop of
+otto."'
+
+'But was not Gibbon an enemy to the Christian faith?'
+
+'Why, no; he was rather an enemy to priestcraft, so am I; and when
+I say the philosophy of the Bible is in many respects unsound, I
+always wish to make an exception in favour of that part of it which
+contains the life and sayings of Jesus of Bethlehem, to which I
+must always concede my unqualified admiration--of Jesus, mind you;
+for with his followers and their dogmas I have nothing to do. Of
+all historic characters Jesus is the most beautiful and the most
+heroic. I have always been a friend to hero-worship, it is the
+only rational one, and has always been in use amongst civilised
+people--the worship of spirits is synonymous with barbarism--it is
+mere fetish; the savages of West Africa are all spirit-worshippers.
+But there is something philosophic in the worship of the heroes of
+the human race, and the true hero is the benefactor. Brahma,
+Jupiter, Bacchus, were all benefactors, and, therefore, entitled to
+the worship of their respective peoples. The Celts worshipped
+Hesus, who taught them to plough, a highly useful art. We, who
+have attained a much higher state of civilisation than the Celts
+ever did, worship Jesus, the first who endeavoured to teach men to
+behave decently and decorously under all circumstances; who was the
+foe of vengeance, in which there is something highly indecorous;
+who had first the courage to lift his voice against that violent
+dogma, "an eye for an eye"; who shouted conquer, but conquer with
+kindness; who said put up the sword, a violent unphilosophic
+weapon; and who finally died calmly and decorously in defence of
+his philosophy. He must be a savage who denies worship to the hero
+of Golgotha.'
+
+'But he was something more than a hero; he was the Son of God,
+wasn't he?'
+
+The elderly individual made no immediate answer; but, after a few
+more whiffs from his pipe, exclaimed, 'Come, fill your glass! How
+do you advance with your translation of Tell'?
+
+'It is nearly finished; but I do not think I shall proceed with it;
+I begin to think the original somewhat dull.'
+
+'There you are wrong; it is the masterpiece of Schiller, the first
+of German poets.'
+
+'It may be so,' said the youth. 'But, pray excuse me, I do not
+think very highly of German poetry. I have lately been reading
+Shakespeare; and, when I turn from him to the Germans--even the
+best of them--they appear mere pigmies. You will pardon the
+liberty I perhaps take in saying so.'
+
+'I like that every one should have an opinion of his own,' said the
+elderly individual; 'and, what is more, declare it. Nothing
+displeases me more than to see people assenting to everything that
+they hear said; I at once come to the conclusion that they are
+either hypocrites, or there is nothing in them. But, with respect
+to Shakespeare, whom I have not read for thirty years, is he not
+rather given to bombast, "crackling bombast," as I think I have
+said in one of my essays?'
+
+'I daresay he is,' said the youth; 'but I can't help thinking him
+the greatest of all poets, not even excepting Homer. I would
+sooner have written that series of plays, founded on the fortunes
+of the House of Lancaster, than the Iliad itself. The events
+described are as lofty as those sung by Homer in his great work,
+and the characters brought upon the stage still more interesting.
+I think Hotspur as much of a hero as Hector, and young Henry more
+of a man than Achilles; and then there is the fat knight, the
+quintessence of fun, wit, and rascality. Falstaff is a creation
+beyond the genius even of Homer.'
+
+'You almost tempt me to read Shakespeare again--but the Germans?'
+
+'I don't admire the Germans,' said the youth, somewhat excited. 'I
+don't admire them in any point of view. I have heard my father say
+that, though good sharpshooters, they can't be much depended upon
+as soldiers; and that old Sergeant Meredith told him that Minden
+would never have been won but for the two English regiments, who
+charged the French with fixed bayonets, and sent them to the right-
+about in double-quick time. With respect to poetry, setting
+Shakespeare and the English altogether aside, I think there is
+another Gothic nation, at least, entitled to dispute with them the
+palm. Indeed, to my mind, there is more genuine poetry contained
+in the old Danish book which I came so strangely by, than has been
+produced in Germany from the period of the Niebelungen lay to the
+present.'
+
+'Ah, the Koempe Viser?' said the elderly individual, breathing
+forth an immense volume of smoke, which he had been collecting
+during the declamation of his young companion. 'There are singular
+things in that book, I must confess; and I thank you for showing it
+to me, or rather your attempt at translation. I was struck with
+that ballad of Orm Ungarswayne, who goes by night to the grave-hill
+of his father to seek for counsel. And then, again, that strange
+melancholy Swayne Vonved, who roams about the world propounding
+people riddles; slaying those who cannot answer, and rewarding
+those who can with golden bracelets. Were it not for the violence,
+I should say that ballad has a philosophic tendency. I thank you
+for making me acquainted with the book, and I thank the Jew Mousha
+for making me acquainted with you.'
+
+'That Mousha was a strange customer,' said the youth, collecting
+himself.
+
+'He WAS a strange customer,' said the elder individual, breathing
+forth a gentle cloud. 'I love to exercise hospitality to wandering
+strangers, especially foreigners; and when he came to this place,
+pretending to teach German and Hebrew, I asked him to dinner.
+After the first dinner, he asked me to lend him five pounds; I DID
+lend him five pounds. After the fifth dinner, he asked me to lend
+him fifty pounds; I did NOT lend him the fifty pounds.'
+
+'He was as ignorant of German as of Hebrew,' said the youth; 'on
+which account he was soon glad, I suppose, to transfer his pupil to
+some one else.'
+
+'He told me,' said the elder individual, 'that he intended to leave
+a town where he did not find sufficient encouragement; and, at the
+same time, expressed regret at being obliged to abandon a certain
+extraordinary pupil, for whom he had a particular regard. Now I,
+who have taught many people German from the love which I bear to
+it, and the desire which I feel that it should be generally
+diffused, instantly said that I should be happy to take his pupil
+off his hands, and afford him what instruction I could in German,
+for, as to Hebrew, I have never taken much interest in it. Such
+was the origin of our acquaintance. You have been an apt scholar.
+Of late, however, I have seen little of you--what is the reason?'
+
+The youth made no answer.
+
+'You think, probably, that you have learned all I can teach you?
+Well, perhaps you are right.'
+
+'Not so, not so,' said the young man eagerly; 'before I knew you I
+knew nothing, and am still very ignorant; but of late my father's
+health has been very much broken, and he requires attention; his
+spirits also have become low, which, to tell you the truth, he
+attributes to my misconduct. He says that I have imbibed all kinds
+of strange notions and doctrines, which will, in all probability,
+prove my ruin, both here and hereafter; which--which--'
+
+'Ah! I understand,' said the elder, with another calm whiff. 'I
+have always had a kind of respect for your father, for there is
+something remarkable in his appearance, something heroic, and I
+would fain have cultivated his acquaintance; the feeling, however,
+has not been reciprocated. I met him, the other day, up the road,
+with his cane and dog, and saluted him; he did not return my
+salutation.'
+
+'He has certain opinions of his own,' said the youth, 'which are
+widely different from those which he has heard that you profess.'
+
+'I respect a man for entertaining an opinion of his own,' said the
+elderly individual. 'I hold certain opinions; but I should not
+respect an individual the more for adopting them. All I wish for
+is tolerance, which I myself endeavour to practise. I have always
+loved the truth, and sought it; if I have not found it, the greater
+my misfortune.'
+
+'Are you happy?' said the young man.
+
+'Why, no! And, between ourselves, it is that which induces me to
+doubt sometimes the truth of my opinions. My life, upon the whole,
+I consider a failure; on which account, I would not counsel you, or
+any one, to follow my example too closely. It is getting late, and
+you had better be going, especially as your father, you say, is
+anxious about you. But, as we may never meet again, I think there
+are three things which I may safely venture to press upon you. The
+first is, that the decencies and gentlenesses should never be lost
+sight of, as the practice of the decencies and gentlenesses is at
+all times compatible with independence of thought and action. The
+second thing which I would wish to impress upon you is, that there
+is always some eye upon us; and that it is impossible to keep
+anything we do from the world, as it will assuredly be divulged by
+somebody as soon as it is his interest to do so. The third thing
+which I would wish to press upon you--'
+
+'Yes,' said the youth, eagerly bending forward.
+
+'Is--' and here the elderly individual laid down his pipe upon the
+table--'that it will be as well to go on improving yourself in
+German!'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+
+The alehouse-keeper--Compassion for the rich--Old English
+gentleman--How is this?--Madeira--The Greek Parr--Twenty languages-
+-Whiter's health--About the fight--A sporting gentleman--The
+flattened nose--Lend us that pightle--The surly nod.
+
+'Holloa, master! can you tell us where the fight is likely to be?'
+
+Such were the words shouted out to me by a short thick fellow, in
+brown top-boots, and bareheaded, who stood, with his hands in his
+pockets, at the door of a country alehouse as I was passing by.
+
+Now, as I knew nothing about the fight, and as the appearance of
+the man did not tempt me greatly to enter into conversation with
+him, I merely answered in the negative, and continued my way.
+
+It was a fine lovely morning in May, the sun shone bright above,
+and the birds were carolling in the hedgerows. I was wont to be
+cheerful at such seasons, for, from my earliest recollection,
+sunshine and the song of birds have been dear to me; yet, about
+that period, I was not cheerful, my mind was not at rest; I was
+debating within myself, and the debate was dreary and
+unsatisfactory enough. I sighed, and turning my eyes upward, I
+ejaculated, 'What is truth?'
+
+But suddenly, by a violent effort breaking away from my
+meditations, I hastened forward; one mile, two miles, three miles
+were speedily left behind; and now I came to a grove of birch and
+other trees, and opening a gate I passed up a kind of avenue, and
+soon arriving before a large brick house, of rather antique
+appearance, knocked at the door.
+
+In this house there lived a gentleman with whom I had business. He
+was said to be a genuine old English gentleman, and a man of
+considerable property; at this time, however, he wanted a thousand
+pounds, as gentlemen of considerable property every now and then
+do. I had brought him a thousand pounds in my pocket, for it is
+astonishing how many eager helpers the rich find, and with what
+compassion people look upon their distresses. He was said to have
+good wine in his cellar.
+
+'Is your master at home?' said I, to a servant who appeared at the
+door.
+
+'His worship is at home, young man,' said the servant, as he looked
+at my shoes, which bore evidence that I had come walking. 'I beg
+your pardon, sir,' he added, as he looked me in the face.
+
+'Ay, ay, servants,' thought I, as I followed the man into the
+house, 'always look people in the face when you open the door, and
+do so before you look at their shoes, or you may mistake the heir
+of a Prime Minister for a shopkeeper's son.'
+
+I found his worship a jolly, red-faced gentleman, of about fifty-
+five; he was dressed in a green coat, white corduroy breeches, and
+drab gaiters, and sat on an old-fashioned leather sofa, with two
+small, thoroughbred, black English terriers, one on each side of
+him. He had all the appearance of a genuine old English gentleman
+who kept good wine in his cellar.
+
+'Sir,' said I, 'I have brought you a thousand pounds'; and I said
+this after the servant had retired, and the two terriers had ceased
+the barking which is natural to all such dogs at the sight of a
+stranger.
+
+And when the magistrate had received the money, and signed and
+returned a certain paper which I handed to him, he rubbed his
+hands, and looking very benignantly at me, exclaimed -
+
+'And now, young gentleman, that our business is over, perhaps you
+can tell me where the fight is to take place?'
+
+'I am sorry, sir,' said I, 'that I can't inform you, but everybody
+seems to be anxious about it'; and then I told him what had
+occurred to me on the road with the alehouse-keeper.
+
+'I know him,' said his worship; 'he's a tenant of mine, and a good
+fellow, somewhat too much in my debt though. But how is this,
+young gentleman, you look as if you had been walking; you did not
+come on foot?'
+
+'Yes, sir, I came on foot.'
+
+'On foot! why it is sixteen miles.'
+
+'I shan't be tired when I have walked back.'
+
+'You can't ride, I suppose?'
+
+'Better than I can walk.'
+
+'Then why do you walk?'
+
+'I have frequently to make journeys connected with my profession;
+sometimes I walk, sometimes I ride, just as the whim takes me.'
+
+'Will you take a glass of wine?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'That's right; what shall it be?'
+
+'Madeira!'
+
+The magistrate gave a violent slap on his knee; 'I like your
+taste,' said he, 'I am fond of a glass of Madeira myself, and can
+give you such a one as you will not drink every day; sit down,
+young gentleman, you shall have a glass of Madeira, and the best I
+have.'
+
+Thereupon he got up, and, followed by his two terriers, walked
+slowly out of the room.
+
+I looked round the room, and, seeing nothing which promised me much
+amusement, I sat down, and fell again into my former train of
+thought. 'What is truth?' said I.
+
+'Here it is,' said the magistrate, returning at the end of a
+quarter of an hour, followed by the servant with a tray; 'here's
+the true thing, or I am no judge, far less a justice. It has been
+thirty years in my cellar last Christmas. There,' said he to the
+servant, 'put it down, and leave my young friend and me to
+ourselves. Now, what do you think of it?'
+
+'It is very good,' said I.
+
+'Did you ever taste better Madeira?'
+
+'I never before tasted Madeira.'
+
+'Then you ask for a wine without knowing what it is?'
+
+'I ask for it, sir, that I may know what it is.'
+
+'Well, there is logic in that, as Parr would say; you have heard of
+Parr?'
+
+'Old Parr?'
+
+'Yes, old Parr, but not that Parr; you mean the English, I the
+Greek Parr, as people call him.'
+
+'I don't know him.'
+
+'Perhaps not--rather too young for that, but were you of my age,
+you might have cause to know him, coming from where you do. He
+kept school there, I was his first scholar; he flogged Greek into
+me till I loved him--and he loved me: he came to see me last year,
+and sat in that chair; I honour Parr--he knows much, and is a sound
+man.'
+
+'Does he know the truth?'
+
+'Know the truth! he knows what's good, from an oyster to an
+ostrich--he's not only sound, but round.'
+
+'Suppose we drink his health?'
+
+'Thank you, boy: here's Parr's health, and Whiter's.'
+
+'Who is Whiter?'
+
+'Don't you know Whiter? I thought everybody knew Reverend Whiter
+the philologist, though I suppose you scarcely know what that
+means. A man fond of tongues and languages, quite out of your way-
+-he understands some twenty; what do you say to that?'
+
+'Is he a sound man?'
+
+'Why, as to that, I scarcely know what to say: he has got queer
+notions in his head--wrote a book to prove that all words came
+originally from the earth--who knows? Words have roots, and roots
+live in the earth; but, upon the whole, I should not call him
+altogether a sound man, though he can talk Greek nearly as fast as
+Parr.'
+
+'Is he a round man?'
+
+'Ay, boy, rounder than Parr; I'll sing you a song, if you like,
+which will let you into his character:-
+
+
+'Give me the haunch of a buck to eat, and to drink Madeira old,
+And a gentle wife to rest with, and in my arms to fold,
+An Arabic book to study, a Norfolk cob to ride,
+And a house to live in shaded with trees, and near to a river side;
+With such good things around me, and blessed with good health
+withal,
+Though I should live for a hundred years, for death I would not
+call.
+
+
+Here's to Whiter's health--so you know nothing about the fight?'
+
+'No, sir; the truth is, that of late I have been very much occupied
+with various matters, otherwise I should, perhaps, have been able
+to afford you some information--boxing is a noble art.'
+
+'Can you box?'
+
+'A little.'
+
+'I tell you what, my boy; I honour you, and provided your education
+had been a little less limited, I should have been glad to see you
+here in company with Parr and Whiter; both can box. Boxing is, as
+you say, a noble art--a truly English art; may I never see the day
+when Englishmen shall feel ashamed of it, or blacklegs and
+blackguards bring it into disgrace. I am a magistrate, and, of
+course, cannot patronise the thing very openly, yet I sometimes see
+a prize fight: I saw the Game Chicken beat Gulley.'
+
+'Did you ever see Big Ben?'
+
+'No; why do you ask?' But here we heard a noise, like that of a
+gig driving up to the door, which was immediately succeeded by a
+violent knocking and ringing, and after a little time the servant
+who had admitted me made his appearance in the room. 'Sir,' said
+he, with a certain eagerness of manner, 'here are two gentlemen
+waiting to speak to you.'
+
+'Gentlemen waiting to speak to me! who are they?'
+
+'I don't know, sir,' said the servant; 'but they look like sporting
+gentlemen, and--and'--here he hesitated; 'from a word or two they
+dropped, I almost think that they come about the fight.'
+
+'About the fight!' said the magistrate. 'No; that can hardly be;
+however, you had better show them in.'
+
+Heavy steps were now heard ascending the stairs, and the servant
+ushered two men into the apartment. Again there was a barking, but
+louder than that which had been directed against myself, for here
+were two intruders; both of them were remarkable-looking men, but
+to the foremost of them the most particular notice may well be
+accorded: he was a man somewhat under thirty, and nearly six feet
+in height. He was dressed in a blue coat, white corduroy breeches,
+fastened below the knee with small golden buttons; on his legs he
+wore white lamb's-wool stockings, and on his feet shoes reaching to
+the ankles; round his neck was a handkerchief of the blue and
+bird's eye pattern; he wore neither whiskers nor moustaches, and
+appeared not to delight in hair, that of his head, which was of a
+light brown, being closely cropped; the forehead was rather high,
+but somewhat narrow; the face neither broad nor sharp, perhaps
+rather sharp than broad; the nose was almost delicate; the eyes
+were gray, with an expression in which there was sternness blended
+with something approaching to feline; his complexion was
+exceedingly pale, relieved, however, by certain pock-marks, which
+here and there studded his countenance; his form was athletic, but
+lean; his arms long. In the whole appearance of the man there was
+a blending of the bluff and the sharp. You might have supposed him
+a bruiser; his dress was that of one in all its minutiae; something
+was wanting, however, in his manner--the quietness of the
+professional man; he rather looked like one performing the part--
+well--very well--but still performing a part. His companion!--
+there, indeed, was the bruiser--no mistake about him: a tall
+massive man, with a broad countenance and a flattened nose; dressed
+like a bruiser, but not like a bruiser going into the ring; he wore
+white-topped boots, and a loose brown jockey coat.
+
+As the first advanced towards the table, behind which the
+magistrate sat, he doffed a white castor from his head, and made
+rather a genteel bow; looking at me, who sat somewhat on one side,
+he gave a kind of nod of recognition.
+
+'May I request to know who you are, gentlemen?' said the
+magistrate.
+
+'Sir,' said the man in a deep, but not unpleasant voice, 'allow me
+to introduce to you my friend, Mr. -, the celebrated pugilist'; and
+he motioned with his hand towards the massive man with the
+flattened nose.
+
+'And your own name, sir?' said the magistrate.
+
+'My name is no matter,' said the man; 'were I to mention it to you,
+it would awaken within you no feeling of interest. It is neither
+Kean nor Belcher, and I have as yet done nothing to distinguish
+myself like either of those individuals, or even like my friend
+here. However, a time may come--we are not yet buried; and
+whensoever my hour arrives, I hope I shall prove myself equal to my
+destiny, however high -
+
+
+'Like bird that's bred amongst the Helicons.'
+
+
+And here a smile half theatrical passed over his features.
+
+'In what can I oblige you, sir?' said the magistrate.
+
+'Well, sir; the soul of wit is brevity; we want a place for an
+approaching combat between my friend here and a brave from town.
+Passing by your broad acres this fine morning we saw a pightle,
+which we deemed would suit. Lend us that pightle, and receive our
+thanks; 'twould be a favour, though not much to grant: we neither
+ask for Stonehenge nor for Tempe.'
+
+My friend looked somewhat perplexed; after a moment, however, he
+said, with a firm but gentlemanly air, 'Sir, I am sorry that I
+cannot comply with your request.'
+
+'Not comply!' said the man, his brow becoming dark as midnight; and
+with a hoarse and savage tone, 'Not comply! why not?'
+
+'It is impossible, sir; utterly impossible!'
+
+'Why so?'
+
+'I am not compelled to give my reasons to you, sir, nor to any
+man.'
+
+'Let me beg of you to alter your decision,' said the man, in a tone
+of profound respect.
+
+'Utterly impossible, sir; I am a magistrate.'
+
+'Magistrate! then fare ye well, for a green-coated buffer and a
+Harmanbeck.'
+
+'Sir!' said the magistrate, springing up with a face fiery with
+wrath.
+
+But, with a surly nod to me, the man left the apartment; and in a
+moment more the heavy footsteps of himself and his companion were
+heard descending the staircase.
+
+'Who is that man?' said my friend, turning towards me.
+
+'A sporting gentleman, well known in the place from which I come.'
+
+'He appeared to know you.'
+
+'I have occasionally put on the gloves with him.'
+
+'What is his name?'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+
+Doubts--Wise king of Jerusalem--Let me see--A thousand years--
+Nothing new--The crowd--The hymn--Faith--Charles Wesley--There he
+stood--Farewell, brother--Death--Sun, moon, and stars--Wind on the
+heath.
+
+There was one question which I was continually asking myself at
+this period, and which has more than once met the eyes of the
+reader who has followed me through the last chapter: 'What is
+truth?' I had involved myself imperceptibly in a dreary labyrinth
+of doubt, and, whichever way I turned, no reasonable prospect of
+extricating myself appeared. The means by which I had brought
+myself into this situation may be very briefly told; I had inquired
+into many matters, in order that I might become wise, and I had
+read and pondered over the words of the wise, so called, till I had
+made myself master of the sum of human wisdom; namely, that
+everything is enigmatical and that man is an enigma to himself;
+thence the cry of 'What is truth?' I had ceased to believe in the
+truth of that in which I had hitherto trusted, and yet could find
+nothing in which I could put any fixed or deliberate belief--I was,
+indeed, in a labyrinth! In what did I not doubt? With respect to
+crime and virtue I was in doubt; I doubted that the one was
+blamable and the other praiseworthy. Are not all things subjected
+to the law of necessity? Assuredly time and chance govern all
+things: Yet how can this be? alas!
+
+Then there was myself; for what was I born? Are not all things
+born to be forgotten? That's incomprehensible: yet is it not so?
+Those butterflies fall and are forgotten. In what is man better
+than a butterfly? All then is born to be forgotten. Ah! that was
+a pang indeed; 'tis at such a moment that a man wishes to die. The
+wise king of Jerusalem, who sat in his shady arbours beside his
+sunny fish-pools, saying so many fine things, wished to die, when
+he saw that not only all was vanity, but that he himself was
+vanity. Will a time come when all will be forgotten that now is
+beneath the sun? If so, of what profit is life?
+
+In truth it was a sore vexation of spirit to me when I saw, as the
+wise man saw of old, that whatever I could hope to perform must
+necessarily be of very temporary duration; and if so, why do it? I
+said to myself, whatever name I can acquire, will it endure for
+eternity? scarcely so. A thousand years? Let me see! what have I
+done already? I have learnt Welsh, and have translated the songs
+of Ab Gwilym, some ten thousand lines, into English rhyme; I have
+also learnt Danish, and have rendered the old book of ballads cast
+by the tempest upon the beach into corresponding English metre.
+Good! have I done enough already to secure myself a reputation of a
+thousand years? No, no! certainly not; I have not the slightest
+ground for hoping that my translations from the Welsh and Danish
+will be read at the end of a thousand years. Well, but I am only
+eighteen, and I have not stated all that I have done; I have learnt
+many other tongues, and have acquired some knowledge even of Hebrew
+and Arabic. Should I go on in this way till I am forty, I must
+then be very learned; and perhaps, among other things, may have
+translated the Talmud, and some of the great works of the Arabians.
+Pooh! all this is mere learning and translation, and such will
+never secure immortality. Translation is at best an echo, and it
+must be a wonderful echo to be heard after the lapse of a thousand
+years. No! all I have already done, and all I may yet do in the
+same way, I may reckon as nothing--mere pastime; something else
+must be done. I must either write some grand original work, or
+conquer an empire; the one just as easy as the other. But am I
+competent to do either? Yes, I think I am, under favourable
+circumstances. Yes, I think I may promise myself a reputation of a
+thousand years, if I do but give myself the necessary trouble.
+Well! but what's a thousand years after all, or twice a thousand
+years? Woe is me! I may just as well sit still.
+
+'Would I had never been born!' I said to myself; and a thought
+would occasionally intrude: But was I ever born? Is not all that
+I see a lie--a deceitful phantom? Is there a world, and earth, and
+sky? Berkeley's doctrine--Spinoza's doctrine! Dear reader, I had
+at that time never read either Berkeley or Spinoza. I have still
+never read them; who are they, men of yesterday? 'All is a lie--
+all a deceitful phantom,' are old cries; they come naturally from
+the mouths of those who, casting aside that choicest shield against
+madness, simplicity, would fain be wise as God, and can only know
+that they are naked. This doubting in the 'universal all' is
+almost coeval with the human race: wisdom, so called, was early
+sought after. All is a lie--a deceitful phantom--was said when the
+world was yet young; its surface, save a scanty portion, yet
+untrodden by human foot, and when the great tortoise yet crawled
+about. All is a lie, was the doctrine of Buddh; and Buddh lived
+thirty centuries before the wise king of Jerusalem, who sat in his
+arbours, beside his sunny fish-pools, saying many fine things, and,
+amongst others, 'There is nothing new under the sun!'
+
+
+One day, whilst I bent my way to the heath of which I have spoken
+on a former occasion, at the foot of the hills which formed it I
+came to a place where a wagon was standing, but without horses, the
+shafts resting on the ground; there was a crowd about it, which
+extended half-way up the side of the neighbouring hill. The wagon
+was occupied by some half a dozen men; some sitting, others
+standing--they were dressed in sober-coloured habiliments of black
+or brown, cut in a plain and rather uncouth fashion, and partially
+white with dust; their hair was short, and seemed to have been
+smoothed down by the application of the hand; all were bareheaded--
+sitting or standing, all were bareheaded. One of them, a tall man,
+was speaking as I arrived; ere, however, I could distinguish what
+he was saying, he left off, and then there was a cry for a hymn 'to
+the glory of God'--that was the word. It was a strange-sounding
+hymn, as well it might be, for everybody joined in it: there were
+voices of all kinds, of men, of women, and of children--of those
+who could sing and of those who could not--a thousand voices all
+joined, and all joined heartily; no voice of all the multitude was
+silent save mine. The crowd consisted entirely of the lower
+classes, labourers and mechanics, and their wives and children--
+dusty people, unwashed people, people of no account whatever, and
+yet they did not look a mob. And when that hymn was over--and here
+let me observe that, strange as it sounded, I have recalled that
+hymn to mind, and it has seemed to tingle in my ears on occasions
+when all that pomp and art could do to enhance religious solemnity
+was being done--in the Sistine Chapel, what time the papal band was
+in full play, and the choicest choristers of Italy poured forth
+their mellowest tones in presence of Batuschca and his cardinals--
+on the ice of the Neva, what time the long train of stately
+priests, with their noble beards and their flowing robes of crimson
+and gold, with their ebony and ivory staves, stalked along,
+chanting their Sclavonian litanies in advance of the mighty Emperor
+of the North and his Priberjensky guard of giants, towards the
+orifice through which the river, running below in its swiftness, is
+to receive the baptismal lymph: --when the hymn was over, another
+man in the wagon proceeded to address the people; he was a much
+younger man than the last speaker; somewhat square built and about
+the middle height; his face was rather broad, but expressive of
+much intelligence, and with a peculiar calm and serious look; the
+accent in which he spoke indicated that he was not of these parts,
+but from some distant district. The subject of his address was
+faith, and how it could remove mountains. It was a plain address,
+without any attempt at ornament, and delivered in a tone which was
+neither loud nor vehement. The speaker was evidently not a
+practised one--once or twice he hesitated as if for words to
+express his meaning, but still he held on, talking of faith, and
+how it could remove mountains: 'It is the only thing we want,
+brethren, in this world; if we have that, we are indeed rich, as it
+will enable us to do our duty under all circumstances, and to bear
+our lot, however hard it may be--and the lot of all mankind is
+hard--the lot of the poor is hard, brethren--and who knows more of
+the poor than I?--a poor man myself, and the son of a poor man:
+but are the rich better off? not so, brethren, for God is just.
+The rich have their trials too: I am not rich myself, but I have
+seen the rich with careworn countenances; I have also seen them in
+madhouses; from which you may learn, brethren, that the lot of all
+mankind is hard; that is, till we lay hold of faith, which makes us
+comfortable under all circumstances; whether we ride in gilded
+chariots or walk barefooted in quest of bread; whether we be
+ignorant, whether we be wise--for riches and poverty, ignorance and
+wisdom, brethren, each brings with it its peculiar temptations.
+Well, under all these troubles, the thing which I would recommend
+you to seek is one and the same--faith; faith in our Lord Jesus
+Christ, who made us and allotted to each his station. Each has
+something to do, brethren. Do it, therefore, but always in faith;
+without faith we shall find ourselves sometimes at fault; but with
+faith never--for faith can remove the difficulty. It will teach us
+to love life, brethren, when life is becoming bitter, and to prize
+the blessings around us; for as every man has his cares, brethren,
+so has each man his blessings. It will likewise teach us not to
+love life over much, seeing that we must one day part with it. It
+will teach us to face death with resignation, and will preserve us
+from sinking amidst the swelling of the river Jordan.'
+
+And when he had concluded his address, he said, 'Let us sing a
+hymn, one composed by Master Charles Wesley--he was my countryman,
+brethren.
+
+
+'Jesus, I cast my soul on Thee,
+Mighty and merciful to save;
+Thou shalt to death go down with me,
+And lay me gently in the grave.
+This body then shall rest in hope,
+This body which the worms destroy;
+For Thou shalt surely raise me up
+To glorious life and endless joy.'
+
+
+Farewell, preacher with the plain coat and the calm serious look!
+I saw thee once again, and that was lately--only the other day. It
+was near a fishing hamlet, by the sea-side, that I saw the preacher
+again. He stood on the top of a steep monticle, used by pilots as
+a look-out for vessels approaching that coast, a dangerous one,
+abounding in rocks and quick-sands. There he stood on the
+monticle, preaching to weather-worn fishermen and mariners gathered
+below upon the sand. 'Who is he?' said I to an old fisherman who
+stood beside me with a book of hymns in his hand; but the old man
+put his hand to his lips, and that was the only answer I received.
+Not a sound was heard but the voice of the preacher and the roaring
+of the waves; but the voice was heard loud above the roaring of the
+sea, for the preacher now spoke with power, and his voice was not
+that of one who hesitates. There he stood--no longer a young man,
+for his black locks were become gray, even like my own; but there
+was the intelligent face, and the calm serious look which had
+struck me of yore. There stood the preacher, one of those men--
+and, thank God, their number is not few--who, animated by the
+spirit of Christ, amidst much poverty, and, alas! much contempt,
+persist in carrying the light of the Gospel amidst the dark
+parishes of what, but for their instrumentality, would scarcely be
+Christian England. I would have waited till he had concluded, in
+order that I might speak to him, and endeavour to bring back the
+ancient scene to his recollection, but suddenly a man came hurrying
+towards the monticle, mounted on a speedy horse, and holding by the
+bridle one yet more speedy, and he whispered to me, 'Why loiterest
+thou here?--knowest thou not all that is to be done before
+midnight?' and he flung me the bridle; and I mounted on the horse
+of great speed, and I followed the other, who had already galloped
+off. And as I departed, I waved my hand to him on the monticle,
+and I shouted, 'Farewell, brother! the seed came up at last, after
+a long period!' and then I gave the speedy horse his way, and
+leaning over the shoulder of the galloping horse, I said, 'Would
+that my life had been like his--even like that man's!'
+
+I now wandered along the heath, till I came to a place where,
+beside a thick furze, sat a man, his eyes fixed intently on the red
+ball of the setting sun.
+
+'That's not you, Jasper?'
+
+'Indeed, brother!'
+
+'I've not seen you for years.'
+
+'How should you, brother?'
+
+'What brings you here?'
+
+'The fight, brother.'
+
+'Where are the tents?'
+
+'On the old spot, brother.'
+
+'Any news since we parted?'
+
+'Two deaths, brother.'
+
+'Who are dead, Jasper?'
+
+'Father and mother, brother.'
+
+'Where did they die?'
+
+'Where they were sent, brother.'
+
+'And Mrs. Herne?'
+
+'She's alive, brother.'
+
+'Where is she now?'
+
+'In Yorkshire, brother.'
+
+'What is your opinion of death, Mr. Petulengro?' said I, as I sat
+down beside him.
+
+'My opinion of death, brother, is much the same as that in the old
+song of Pharaoh, which I have heard my grandam sing -
+
+
+Cana marel o manus chivios ande puv,
+Ta rovel pa leste o chavo ta romi.
+
+
+When a man dies, he is cast into the earth, and his wife and child
+sorrow over him. If he has neither wife nor child, then his father
+and mother, I suppose; and if he is quite alone in the world, why,
+then, he is cast into the earth, and there is an end of the
+matter.'
+
+'And do you think that is the end of a man?'
+
+'There's an end of him, brother, more's the pity.'
+
+'Why do you say so?'
+
+'Life is sweet, brother.'
+
+'Do you think so?'
+
+'Think so!--There's night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun,
+moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's likewise a wind
+on the heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?'
+
+'I would wish to die--'
+
+'You talk like a gorgio--which is the same as talking like a fool--
+were you a Rommany Chal you would talk wiser. Wish to die,
+indeed!--A Rommany Chal would wish to live for ever!'
+
+'In sickness, Jasper?'
+
+'There's the sun and stars, brother.'
+
+'In blindness, Jasper?'
+
+'There's the wind on the heath, brother; if I could only feel that,
+I would gladly live for ever. Dosta, we'll now go to the tents and
+put on the gloves; and I'll try to make you feel what a sweet thing
+it is to be alive, brother!'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+
+The flower of the grass--Days of pugilism--The rendezvous--Jews--
+Bruisers of England--Winter, spring--Well-earned bays--The fight--
+Huge black cloud--Frame of adamant--The storm--Dukkeripens--The
+barouche--The rain-gushes.
+
+How for everything there is a time and a season, and then how does
+the glory of a thing pass from it, even like the flower of the
+grass. This is a truism, but it is one of those which are
+continually forcing themselves upon the mind. Many years have not
+passed over my head, yet, during those which I can recall to
+remembrance, how many things have I seen flourish, pass away, and
+become forgotten, except by myself, who, in spite of all my
+endeavours, never can forget anything. I have known the time when
+a pugilistic encounter between two noted champions was almost
+considered in the light of a national affair; when tens of
+thousands of individuals, high and low, meditated and brooded upon
+it, the first thing in the morning and the last at night, until the
+great event was decided. But the time is past, and many people
+will say, thank God that it is; all I have to say is, that the
+French still live on the other side of the water, and are still
+casting their eyes hitherward--and that in the days of pugilism it
+was no vain blast to say that one Englishman was a match for two of
+t'other race; at present it would be a vain boast to say so, for
+these are not the days of pugilism.
+
+But those to which the course of my narrative has carried me were
+the days of pugilism; it was then at its height, and consequently
+near its decline, for corruption had crept into the ring; and how
+many things, states and sects among the rest, owe their decline to
+this cause! But what a bold and vigorous aspect pugilism wore at
+that time! and the great battle was just then coming off: the day
+had been decided upon, and the spot--a convenient distance from the
+old town; and to the old town were now flocking the bruisers of
+England, men of tremendous renown. Let no one sneer at the
+bruisers of England--what were the gladiators of Rome, or the bull-
+fighters of Spain, in its palmiest days, compared to England's
+bruisers? Pity that ever corruption should have crept in amongst
+them--but of that I wish not to talk; let us still hope that a
+spark of the old religion, of which they were the priests, still
+lingers in the breasts of Englishmen. There they come, the
+bruisers, from far London, or from wherever else they might chance
+to be at the time, to the great rendezvous in the old city; some
+came one way, some another: some of tip-top reputation came with
+peers in their chariots, for glory and fame are such fair things
+that even peers are proud to have those invested therewith by their
+sides; others came in their own gigs, driving their own bits of
+blood, and I heard one say: 'I have driven through at a heat the
+whole hundred and eleven miles, and only stopped to bait twice.'
+Oh, the blood-horses of old England! but they, too, have had their
+day--for everything beneath the sun there is a season and a time.
+But the greater number come just as they can contrive; on the tops
+of coaches, for example; and amongst these there are fellows with
+dark sallow faces and sharp shining eyes; and it is these that have
+planted rottenness in the core of pugilism, for they are Jews, and,
+true to their kind, have only base lucre in view.
+
+It was fierce old Cobbett, I think, who first said that the Jews
+first introduced bad faith amongst pugilists. He did not always
+speak the truth, but at any rate he spoke it when he made that
+observation. Strange people the Jews--endowed with every gift but
+one, and that the highest, genius divine--genius which can alone
+make of men demigods, and elevate them above earth and what is
+earthy and grovelling; without which a clever nation--and, who more
+clever than the Jews?--may have Rambams in plenty, but never a
+Fielding nor a Shakespeare. A Rothschild and a Mendoza, yes--but
+never a Kean nor a Belcher.
+
+So the bruisers of England are come to be present at the grand
+fight speedily coming off; there they are met in the precincts of
+the old town, near the field of the chapel, planted with tender
+saplings at the restoration of sporting Charles, which are now
+become venerable elms, as high as many a steeple; there they are
+met at a fitting rendezvous, where a retired coachman, with one
+leg, keeps an hotel and a bowling-green. I think I now see them
+upon the bowling-green, the men of renown, amidst hundreds of
+people with no renown at all, who gaze upon them with timid wonder.
+Fame, after all, is a glorious thing, though it lasts only for a
+day. There's Cribb, the champion of England, and perhaps the best
+man in England; there he is, with his huge massive figure, and face
+wonderfully like that of a lion. There is Belcher, the younger,
+not the mighty one, who is gone to his place, but the Teucer
+Belcher, the most scientific pugilist that ever entered a ring,
+only wanting strength to be, I won't say what. He appears to walk
+before me now, as he did that evening, with his white hat, white
+greatcoat, thin genteel figure, springy step, and keen, determined
+eye. Crosses him, what a contrast! grim, savage Shelton, who has a
+civil word for nobody, and a hard blow for anybody--hard! one blow,
+given with the proper play of his athletic arm, will unsense a
+giant. Yonder individual, who strolls about with his hands behind
+him, supporting his brown coat lappets, under-sized, and who looks
+anything but what he is, is the king of the light weights, so
+called--Randall! the terrible Randall, who has Irish blood in his
+veins; not the better for that, nor the worse; and not far from him
+is his last antagonist, Ned Turner, who, though beaten by him,
+still thinks himself as good a man, in which he is, perhaps, right,
+for it was a near thing; and 'a better shentleman,' in which he is
+quite right, for he is a Welshman. But how shall I name them all?
+they were there by dozens, and all tremendous in their way. There
+was Bulldog Hudson, and fearless Scroggins, who beat the conqueror
+of Sam the Jew. There was Black Richmond--no, he was not there,
+but I knew him well; he was the most dangerous of blacks, even with
+a broken thigh. There was Purcell, who could never conquer till
+all seemed over with him. There was--what! shall I name thee last?
+ay, why not? I believe that thou art the last of all that strong
+family still above the sod, where mayst thou long continue--true
+piece of English stuff, Tom of Bedford--sharp as Winter, kind as
+Spring.
+
+Hail to thee, Tom of Bedford, or by whatever name it may please
+thee to be called, Spring or Winter. Hail to thee, six-foot
+Englishman of the brown eye, worthy to have carried a six-foot bow
+at Flodden, where England's yeomen triumphed over Scotland's king,
+his clans and chivalry. Hail to thee, last of England's bruisers,
+after all the many victories which thou hast achieved--true English
+victories, unbought by yellow gold; need I recount them? nay, nay!
+they are already well known to fame--sufficient to say that
+Bristol's Bull and Ireland's Champion were vanquished by thee, and
+one mightier still, gold itself, thou didst overcome; for gold
+itself strove in vain to deaden the power of thy arm; and thus thou
+didst proceed till men left off challenging thee, the
+unvanquishable, the incorruptible. 'Tis a treat to see thee, Tom
+of Bedford, in thy 'public' in Holborn way, whither thou hast
+retired with thy well-earned bays. 'Tis Friday night, and nine by
+Holborn clock. There sits the yeoman at the end of his long room,
+surrounded by his friends; glasses are filled, and a song is the
+cry, and a song is sung well suited to the place; it finds an echo
+in every heart--fists are clenched, arms are waved, and the
+portraits of the mighty fighting men of yore, Broughton, and Slack,
+and Ben, which adorn the walls, appear to smile grim approbation,
+whilst many a manly voice joins in the bold chorus:
+
+
+Here's a health to old honest John Bull,
+When he's gone we shan't find such another,
+And with hearts and with glasses brim full,
+We will drink to old England, his mother.
+
+
+But the fight! with respect to the fight, what shall I say? Little
+can be said about it--it was soon over; some said that the brave
+from town, who was reputed the best man of the two, and whose form
+was a perfect model of athletic beauty, allowed himself, for lucre
+vile, to be vanquished by the massive champion with the flattened
+nose. One thing is certain, that the former was suddenly seen to
+sink to the earth before a blow of by no means extraordinary power.
+Time, time! was called; but there he lay upon the ground apparently
+senseless, and from thence he did not lift his head till several
+seconds after the umpires had declared his adversary victor.
+
+There were shouts; indeed there's never a lack of shouts to
+celebrate a victory, however acquired; but there was also much
+grinding of teeth, especially amongst the fighting men from town.
+'Tom has sold us,' said they, 'sold us to the yokels; who would
+have thought it?' Then there was fresh grinding of teeth, and
+scowling brows were turned to the heaven; but what is this? is it
+possible, does the heaven scowl too? why, only a quarter of an hour
+ago . . . but what may not happen in a quarter of an hour? For
+many weeks the weather had been of the most glorious description,
+the eventful day, too, had dawned gloriously, and so it had
+continued till some two hours after noon; the fight was then over;
+and about that time I looked up--what a glorious sky of deep blue,
+and what a big fierce sun swimming high above in the midst of that
+blue; not a cloud--there had not been one for weeks--not a cloud to
+be seen, only in the far west, just on the horizon, something like
+the extremity of a black wing; that was only a quarter of an hour
+ago, and now the whole northern side of the heaven is occupied by a
+huge black cloud, and the sun is only occasionally seen amidst
+masses of driving vapour; what a change! but another fight is at
+hand, and the pugilists are clearing the outer ring;--how their
+huge whips come crashing upon the heads of the yokels; blood flows,
+more blood than in the fight; those blows are given with right
+good-will, those are not sham blows, whether of whip or fist; it is
+with fist that grim Shelton strikes down the big yokel; he is
+always dangerous, grim Shelton, but now particularly so, for he has
+lost ten pounds betted on the brave who sold himself to the yokels;
+but the outer ring is cleared: and now the second fight commences;
+it is between two champions of less renown than the others, but is
+perhaps not the worse on that account. A tall thin boy is fighting
+in the ring with a man somewhat under the middle size, with a frame
+of adamant; that's a gallant boy! he's a yokel, but he comes from
+Brummagem, and he does credit to his extraction; but his adversary
+has a frame of adamant: in what a strange light they fight, but
+who can wonder, on looking at that frightful cloud usurping now
+one-half of heaven, and at the sun struggling with sulphurous
+vapour; the face of the boy, which is turned towards me, looks
+horrible in that light, but he is a brave boy, he strikes his foe
+on the forehead, and the report of the blow is like the sound of a
+hammer against a rock; but there is a rush and a roar overhead, a
+wild commotion, the tempest is beginning to break loose; there's
+wind and dust, a crash, rain and hail; is it possible to fight
+amidst such a commotion? yes! the fight goes on; again the boy
+strikes the man full on the brow, but it is of no use striking that
+man, his frame is of adamant. 'Boy, thy strength is beginning to
+give way, and thou art becoming confused'; the man now goes to
+work, amidst rain and hail. 'Boy, thou wilt not hold out ten
+minutes longer against rain, hail, and the blows of such an
+antagonist.'
+
+And now the storm was at its height; the black thunder-cloud had
+broken into many, which assumed the wildest shapes and the
+strangest colours, some of them unspeakably glorious; the rain
+poured in a deluge, and more than one waterspout was seen at no
+great distance: an immense rabble is hurrying in one direction; a
+multitude of men of all ranks, peers and yokels, prize-fighters and
+Jews, and the last came to plunder, and are now plundering amidst
+that wild confusion of hail and rain, men and horses, carts and
+carriages. But all hurry in one direction, through mud and mire;
+there's a town only three miles distant, which is soon reached, and
+soon filled, it will not contain one-third of that mighty rabble;
+but there's another town farther on--the good old city is farther
+on, only twelve miles; what's that! who will stay here? onward to
+the old town.
+
+Hurry-skurry, a mixed multitude of men and horses, carts and
+carriages, all in the direction of the old town; and, in the midst
+of all that mad throng, at a moment when the rain-gushes were
+coming down with particular fury, and the artillery of the sky was
+pealing as I had never heard it peal before, I felt some one seize
+me by the arm--I turned round, and beheld Mr. Petulengro.
+
+'I can't hear you, Mr. Petulengro,' said I; for the thunder drowned
+the words which he appeared to be uttering.
+
+'Dearginni,' I heard Mr. Petulengro say, 'it thundreth. I was
+asking, brother, whether you believe in dukkeripens?'
+
+'I do not, Mr. Petulengro; but this is strange weather to be asking
+me whether I believe in fortunes.'
+
+'Grondinni,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'it haileth. I believe in
+dukkeripens, brother.'
+
+'And who has more right,' said I; 'seeing that you live by them?
+But this tempest is truly horrible.'
+
+'Dearginni, grondinni ta villaminni! It thundreth, it haileth, and
+also flameth,' said Mr. Petulengro. 'Look up there, brother!'
+
+I looked up. Connected with this tempest there was one feature to
+which I have already alluded--the wonderful colours of the clouds.
+Some were of vivid green; others of the brightest orange; others as
+black as pitch. The gypsy's finger was pointed to a particular
+part of the sky.
+
+'What do you see there, brother?'
+
+'A strange kind of cloud.'
+
+'What does it look like, brother?'
+
+'Something like a stream of blood.'
+
+'That cloud foreshoweth a bloody dukkeripen.'
+
+'A bloody fortune!' said I. 'And whom may it betide?'
+
+'Who knows!' said the gypsy.
+
+Down the way, dashing and splashing, and scattering man, horse, and
+cart to the left and right, came an open barouche, drawn by four
+smoking steeds, with postilions in scarlet jackets and leather
+skull-caps. Two forms were conspicuous in it; that of the
+successful bruiser, and of his friend and backer, the sporting
+gentleman of my acquaintance.
+
+'His!' said the gypsy, pointing to the latter, whose stern features
+wore a smile of triumph, as, probably recognising me in the crowd,
+he nodded in the direction of where I stood, as the barouche
+hurried by.
+
+There went the barouche, dashing through the rain-gushes, and in it
+one whose boast it was that he was equal to 'either fortune.' Many
+have heard of that man--many may be desirous of knowing yet more of
+him. I have nothing to do with that man's after life--he fulfilled
+his dukkeripen. 'A bad, violent man!' Softly, friend; when thou
+wouldst speak harshly of the dead, remember that thou hast not yet
+fulfilled thy own dukkeripen!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+
+My father--Premature decay--The easy-chair--A few questions--So you
+told me--A difficult language--They can it Haik--Misused
+opportunities--Saul--Want of candour--Don't weep--Heaven forgive
+me--Dated from Paris--I wish he were here--A father's
+reminiscences--Farewell to vanities.
+
+My father, as I have already informed the reader, had been endowed
+by nature with great corporeal strength; indeed, I have been
+assured that, at the period of his prime, his figure had denoted
+the possession of almost Herculean powers. The strongest forms,
+however, do not always endure the longest, the very excess of the
+noble and generous juices which they contain being the cause of
+their premature decay. But, be that as it may, the health of my
+father, some few years after his retirement from the service to the
+quiet of domestic life, underwent a considerable change; his
+constitution appeared to be breaking up; and he was subject to
+severe attacks from various disorders, with which, till then, he
+had been utterly unacquainted. He was, however, wont to rally,
+more or less, after his illnesses, and might still occasionally be
+seen taking his walk, with his cane in his hand, and accompanied by
+his dog, who sympathised entirely with him, pining as he pined,
+improving as he improved, and never leaving the house save in his
+company; and in this manner matters went on for a considerable
+time, no very great apprehension with respect to my father's state
+being raised either in my mother's breast or my own. But, about
+six months after the period at which I have arrived in my last
+chapter, it came to pass that my father experienced a severer
+attack than on any previous occasion.
+
+He had the best medical advice; but it was easy to see, from the
+looks of his doctors, that they entertained but slight hopes of his
+recovery. His sufferings were great, yet he invariably bore them
+with unshaken fortitude. There was one thing remarkable connected
+with his illness; notwithstanding its severity, it never confined
+him to his bed. He was wont to sit in his little parlour, in his
+easy-chair, dressed in a faded regimental coat, his dog at his
+feet, who would occasionally lift his head from the hearth-rug on
+which he lay, and look his master wistfully in the face. And thus
+my father spent the greater part of his time, sometimes in prayer,
+sometimes in meditation, and sometimes in reading the Scriptures.
+I frequently sat with him, though, as I entertained a great awe for
+my father, I used to feel rather ill at ease, when, as sometimes
+happened, I found myself alone with him.
+
+'I wish to ask you a few questions,' said he to me one day, after
+my mother had left the room.
+
+'I will answer anything you may please to ask me, my dear father.'
+
+'What have you been about lately?'
+
+'I have been occupied as usual, attending at the office at the
+appointed hours.'
+
+'And what do you there?'
+
+'Whatever I am ordered.'
+
+'And nothing else?'
+
+'Oh yes! sometimes I read a book.'
+
+'Connected with your profession?'
+
+'Not always; I have been lately reading Armenian--'
+
+'What's that?'
+
+'The language of a people whose country is a region on the other
+side of Asia Minor.'
+
+'Well!'
+
+'A region abounding with mountains.'
+
+'Well!'
+
+'Amongst which is Mount Ararat.'
+
+'Well!'
+
+'Upon which, as the Bible informs us, the ark rested.'
+
+'Well!'
+
+'It is the language of the people of those regions--'
+
+'So you told me.'
+
+'And I have been reading the Bible in their language.'
+
+'Well!'
+
+'Or rather, I should say, in the ancient language of these people;
+from which I am told the modem Armenian differs considerably.'
+
+'Well!'
+
+'As much as the Italian from the Latin.'
+
+'Well!'
+
+'So I have been reading the Bible in ancient Armenian.'
+
+'You told me so before.'
+
+'I found it a highly difficult language.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Differing widely from the languages in general with which I am
+acquainted.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Exhibiting, however, some features in common with them.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'And sometimes agreeing remarkably in words with a certain strange
+wild speech with which I became acquainted--'
+
+'Irish?'
+
+'No, father, not Irish--with which I became acquainted by the
+greatest chance in the world.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'But of which I need say nothing farther at present, and which I
+should not have mentioned but for that fact.'
+
+'Well!'
+
+'Which I consider remarkable.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'The Armenian is copious.'
+
+'Is it?'
+
+'With an alphabet of thirty-nine letters, but it is harsh and
+guttural.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Like the language of most mountainous people--the Armenians call
+it Haik.'
+
+'Do they?'
+
+'And themselves, Haik, also; they are a remarkable people, and,
+though their original habitation is the Mountain of Ararat, they
+are to be found, like the Jews, all over the world.'
+
+'Well!'
+
+'Well, father, that's all I can tell you about the Haiks, or
+Armenians.'
+
+'And what does it all amount to?'
+
+'Very little, father; indeed, there is very little known about the
+Armenians; their early history, in particular, is involved in
+considerable mystery.'
+
+'And, if you knew all that it was possible to know about them, to
+what would it amount? to what earthly purpose could you turn it?
+have you acquired any knowledge of your profession?'
+
+'Very little, father.'
+
+'Very little! Have you acquired all in your power?'
+
+'I can't say that I have, father.'
+
+'And yet it was your duty to have done so. But I see how it is,
+you have shamefully misused your opportunities; you are like one
+who, sent into the field to labour, passes his time in flinging
+stones at the birds of heaven.'
+
+'I would scorn to fling a stone at a bird, father.'
+
+'You know what I mean, and all too well, and this attempt to evade
+deserved reproof by feigned simplicity is quite in character with
+your general behaviour. I have ever observed about you a want of
+frankness, which has distressed me; you never speak of what you are
+about, your hopes, or your projects, but cover yourself with
+mystery. I never knew till the present moment that you were
+acquainted with Armenian.'
+
+'Because you never asked me, father; there's nothing to conceal in
+the matter--I will tell you in a moment how I came to learn
+Armenian. A lady whom I met at one of Mrs. -'s parties took a
+fancy to me, and has done me the honour to allow me to go and see
+her sometimes. She is the widow of a rich clergyman, and on her
+husband's death came to this place to live, bringing her husband's
+library with her: I soon found my way to it, and examined every
+book. Her husband must have been a learned man, for amongst much
+Greek and Hebrew I found several volumes in Armenian, or relating
+to the language.'
+
+'And why did you not tell me of this before?'
+
+'Because you never questioned me; but, I repeat, there is nothing
+to conceal in the matter. The lady took a fancy to me, and, being
+fond of the arts, drew my portrait; she said the expression of my
+countenance put her in mind of Alfieri's Saul.'
+
+'And do you still visit her?'
+
+'No, she soon grew tired of me, and told people that she found me
+very stupid; she gave me the Armenian books, however.'
+
+'Saul,' said my father, musingly, 'Saul. I am afraid she was only
+too right there; he disobeyed the commands of his master, and
+brought down on his head the vengeance of Heaven--he became a
+maniac, prophesied, and flung weapons about him.'
+
+'He was, indeed, an awful character--I hope I shan't turn out like
+him.'
+
+'God forbid!' said my father, solemnly; 'but in many respects you
+are headstrong and disobedient like him. I placed you in a
+profession, and besought you to make yourself master of it by
+giving it your undivided attention. This, however, you did not do,
+you know nothing of it, but tell me that you are acquainted with
+Armenian; but what I dislike most is your want of candour--you are
+my son, but I know little of your real history, you may know fifty
+things for what I am aware: you may know how to shoe a horse for
+what I am aware.'
+
+'Not only to shoe a horse, father, but to make horse-shoes.'
+
+'Perhaps so,' said my father; 'and it only serves to prove what I
+was just saying, that I know little about you.'
+
+'But you easily may, my dear father; I will tell you anything that
+you may wish to know--shall I inform you how I learnt to make
+horse-shoes?'
+
+'No,' said my father; 'as you kept it a secret so long, it may as
+well continue so still. Had you been a frank, open-hearted boy,
+like one I could name, you would have told me all about it of your
+own accord. But I now wish to ask you a serious question--what do
+you propose to do?'
+
+'To do, father?'
+
+'Yes! the time for which you were articled to your profession will
+soon be expired, and I shall be no more.'
+
+'Do not talk so, my dear father; I have no doubt that you will soon
+be better.'
+
+'Do not flatter yourself; I feel that my days are numbered, I am
+soon going to my rest, and I have need of rest, for I am weary.
+There, there, don't weep! Tears will help me as little as they
+will you; you have not yet answered my question. Tell me what you
+intend to do?'
+
+'I really do not know what I shall do.'
+
+'The military pension which I enjoy will cease with my life. The
+property which I shall leave behind me will be barely sufficient
+for the maintenance of your mother respectably. I again ask you
+what you intend to do. Do you think you can support yourself by
+your Armenian or your other acquirements?'
+
+'Alas! I think little at all about it; but I suppose I must push
+into the world, and make a good fight, as becomes the son of him
+who fought Big Ben; if I can't succeed, and am driven to the worst,
+it is but dying--'
+
+'What do you mean by dying?'
+
+'Leaving the world; my loss would scarcely be felt. I have never
+held life in much value, and every one has a right to dispose as he
+thinks best of that which is his own.'
+
+'Ah! now I understand you; and well I know how and where you
+imbibed that horrible doctrine, and many similar ones which I have
+heard from your mouth; but I wish not to reproach you--I view in
+your conduct a punishment for my own sins, and I bow to the will of
+God. Few and evil have been my days upon the earth; little have I
+done to which I can look back with satisfaction. It is true I have
+served my king fifty years, and I have fought with--Heaven forgive
+me, what was I about to say!--but you mentioned the man's name, and
+our minds willingly recall our ancient follies. Few and evil have
+been my days upon earth, I may say with Jacob of old, though I do
+not mean to say that my case is so hard as his; he had many
+undutiful children, whilst I have only -; but I will not reproach
+you. I have also like him a son to whom I can look with hope, who
+may yet preserve my name when I am gone, so let me be thankful;
+perhaps, after all, I have not lived in vain. Boy, when I am gone,
+look up to your brother, and may God bless you both! There, don't
+weep; but take the Bible, and read me something about the old man
+and his children.'
+
+My brother had now been absent for the space of three years. At
+first his letters had been frequent, and from them it appeared that
+he was following his profession in London with industry; they then
+became rather rare, and my father did not always communicate their
+contents. His last letter, however, had filled him and our whole
+little family with joy; it was dated from Paris, and the writer was
+evidently in high spirits. After describing in eloquent terms the
+beauties and gaieties of the French capital, he informed us how he
+had plenty of money, having copied a celebrated picture of one of
+the Italian masters for a Hungarian nobleman, for which he had
+received a large sum. 'He wishes me to go with him to Italy,'
+added he, 'but I am fond of independence; and, if ever I visit old
+Rome, I will have no patrons near me to distract my attention.'
+But six months had now elapsed from the date of this letter, and we
+had heard no further intelligence of my brother. My father's
+complaint increased; the gout, his principal enemy, occasionally
+mounted high up in his system, and we had considerable difficulty
+in keeping it from the stomach, where it generally proves fatal. I
+now devoted almost the whole of my time to my father, on whom his
+faithful partner also lavished every attention and care. I read
+the Bible to him, which was his chief delight; and also
+occasionally such other books as I thought might prove entertaining
+to him. His spirits were generally rather depressed. The absence
+of my brother appeared to prey upon his mind. 'I wish he were
+here,' he would frequently exclaim; 'I can't imagine what can have
+become of him; I trust, however, he will arrive in time.' He still
+sometimes rallied, and I took advantage of those moments of
+comparative ease to question him upon the events of his early life.
+My attentions to him had not passed unnoticed, and he was kind,
+fatherly, and unreserved. I had never known my father so
+entertaining as at these moments, when his life was but too
+evidently drawing to a close. I had no idea that he knew and had
+seen so much; my respect for him increased, and I looked upon him
+almost with admiration. His anecdotes were in general highly
+curious; some of them related to people in the highest stations,
+and to men whose names were closely connected with some of the
+brightest glories of our native land. He had frequently conversed-
+-almost on terms of familiarity--with good old George. He had
+known the conqueror of Tippoo Saib; and was the friend of
+Townshend, who, when Wolfe fell, led the British grenadiers against
+the shrinking regiments of Montcalm. 'Pity,' he added, 'that when
+old--old as I am now--he should have driven his own son mad by
+robbing him of his plighted bride; but so it was; he married his
+son's bride. I saw him lead her to the altar; if ever there was an
+angelic countenance, it was that girl's; she was almost too fair to
+be one of the daughters of women. Is there anything, boy, that you
+would wish to ask me? now is the time.'
+
+'Yes, father; there is one about whom I would fain question you.'
+
+'Who is it? shall I tell you about Elliot?'
+
+'No, father, not about Elliot; but pray don't be angry; I should
+like to know something about Big Ben.'
+
+'You are a strange lad,' said my father; 'and, though of late I
+have begun to entertain a more favourable opinion than heretofore,
+there is still much about you that I do not understand. Why do you
+bring up that name? Don't you know that it is one of my
+temptations: you wish to know something about him. Well! I will
+oblige you this once, and then farewell to such vanities--something
+about him. I will tell you--his--skin when he flung off his
+clothes--and he had a particular knack in doing so--his skin, when
+he bared his mighty chest and back for combat; and when he fought
+he stood, so . . . . if I remember right--his skin, I say, was
+brown and dusky as that of a toad. Oh me! I wish my elder son was
+here.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+
+My brother's arrival--The interview--Night--A dying father--Christ.
+
+At last my brother arrived; he looked pale and unwell; I met him at
+the door. 'You have been long absent,' said I.
+
+'Yes,' said he, 'perhaps too long; but how is my father?'
+
+'Very poorly,' said I, 'he has had a fresh attack; but where have
+you been of late?'
+
+'Far and wide,' said my brother; 'but I can't tell you anything
+now, I must go to my father. It was only by chance that I heard of
+his illness.'
+
+'Stay a moment,' said I. 'Is the world such a fine place as you
+supposed it to be before you went away?'
+
+'Not quite,' said my brother, 'not quite; indeed I wish--but ask me
+no questions now, I must hasten to my father.' There was another
+question on my tongue, but I forbore; for the eyes of the young man
+were full of tears. I pointed with my finger, and the young man
+hastened past me to the arms of his father.
+
+I forbore to ask my brother whether he had been to old Rome.
+
+What passed between my father and brother I do not know; the
+interview, no doubt, was tender enough, for they tenderly loved
+each other; but my brother's arrival did not produce the beneficial
+effect upon my father which I at first hoped it would; it did not
+even appear to have raised his spirits. He was composed enough,
+however: 'I ought to be grateful,' said he; 'I wished to see my
+son, and God has granted me my wish; what more have I to do now
+than to bless my little family and go?'
+
+My father's end was evidently at hand.
+
+And did I shed no tears? did I breathe no sighs? did I never wring
+my hands at this period? the reader will perhaps be asking.
+Whatever I did and thought is best known to God and myself; but it
+will be as well to observe, that it is possible to feel deeply, and
+yet make no outward sign.
+
+And now for the closing scene.
+
+At the dead hour of night, it might be about two, I was awakened
+from sleep by a cry which sounded from the room immediately below
+that in which I slept. I knew the cry, it was the cry of my
+mother; and I also knew its import, yet I made no effort to rise,
+for I was for the moment paralysed. Again the cry sounded, yet
+still I lay motionless--the stupidity of horror was upon me. A
+third time, and it was then that, by a violent effort, bursting the
+spell which appeared to bind me, I sprang from the bed and rushed
+downstairs. My mother was running wildly about the room; she had
+awoke, and found my father senseless in the bed by her side. I
+essayed to raise him, and after a few efforts supported him in the
+bed in a sitting posture. My brother now rushed in, and, snatching
+up a light that was burning, he held it to my father's face. 'The
+surgeon, the surgeon!' he cried; then, dropping the light, he ran
+out of the room followed by my mother; I remained alone, supporting
+the senseless form of my father; the light had been extinguished by
+the fall, and an almost total darkness reigned in the room. The
+form pressed heavily against my bosom--at last methought it moved.
+Yes, I was right, there was a heaving of the breast, and then a
+gasping. Were those words which I heard? Yes, they were words,
+low and indistinct at first, and then audible. The mind of the
+dying man was reverting to former scenes. I heard him mention
+names which I had often heard him mention before. It was an awful
+moment; I felt stupefied, but I still contrived to support my dying
+father. There was a pause, again my father spoke: I heard him
+speak of Minden, and of Meredith, the old Minden sergeant, and then
+he uttered another name, which at one period of his life was much
+in his lips, the name of . . . but this is a solemn moment! There
+was a deep gasp: I shook, and thought all was over; but I was
+mistaken--my father moved, and revived for a moment; he supported
+himself in bed without my assistance. I make no doubt that for a
+moment he was perfectly sensible, and it was then that, clasping
+his hands, he uttered another name clearly, distinctly--it was the
+name of Christ. With that name upon his lips, the brave old
+soldier sank back upon my bosom, and, with his hands still clasped,
+yielded up his soul.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+
+The greeting--Queer figure--Cheer up--The cheerful fire--It will
+do--The sally forth--Trepidation--Let him come in.
+
+'One-and-ninepence, sir, or the things which you have brought with
+you will be taken away from you!'
+
+Such were the first words which greeted my ears, one damp misty
+morning in March, as I dismounted from the top of a coach in the
+yard of a London inn.
+
+I turned round, for I felt that the words were addressed to myself.
+Plenty of people were in the yard--porters, passengers, coachmen,
+hostlers, and others, who appeared to be intent on anything but
+myself, with the exception of one individual, whose business
+appeared to lie with me, and who now confronted me at the distance
+of about two yards.
+
+I looked hard at the man--and a queer kind of individual he was to
+look at--a rakish figure, about thirty, and of the middle size,
+dressed in a coat smartly cut, but threadbare, very tight
+pantaloons of blue stuff, tied at the ankles, dirty white stockings
+and thin shoes, like those of a dancing-master; his features were
+not ugly, but rather haggard, and he appeared to owe his complexion
+less to nature than carmine; in fact, in every respect, a very
+queer figure.
+
+'One-and-ninepence, sir, or your things will be taken away from
+you!' he said, in a kind of lisping tone, coming yet nearer to me.
+
+I still remained staring fixedly at him, but never a word answered.
+Our eyes met; whereupon he suddenly lost the easy impudent air
+which he before wore. He glanced, for a moment, at my fist, which
+I had by this time clenched, and his features became yet more
+haggard; he faltered; a fresh 'one-and-ninepence,' which he was
+about to utter, died on his lips; he shrank back, disappeared
+behind a coach, and I saw no more of him.
+
+'One-and-ninepence, or my things will be taken away from me!' said
+I to myself, musingly, as I followed the porter to whom I had
+delivered my scanty baggage; 'am I to expect many of these
+greetings in the big world? Well, never mind! I think I know the
+counter-sign!' And I clenched my fist yet harder than before.
+
+So I followed the porter, through the streets of London, to a
+lodging which had been prepared for me by an acquaintance. The
+morning, as I have before said, was gloomy, and the streets through
+which I passed were dank and filthy; the people, also, looked dank
+and filthy; and so, probably, did I, for the night had been rainy,
+and I had come upwards of a hundred miles on the top of a coach; my
+heart had sunk within me, by the time we reached a dark narrow
+street, in which was the lodging.
+
+'Cheer up, young man,' said the porter, 'we shall have a fine
+afternoon!'
+
+And presently I found myself in the lodging which had been prepared
+for me. It consisted of a small room, up two pair of stairs, in
+which I was to sit, and another still smaller above it, in which I
+was to sleep. I remember that I sat down, and looked disconsolate
+about me--everything seemed so cold and dingy. Yet how little is
+required to make a situation--however cheerless at first sight--
+cheerful and comfortable. The people of the house, who looked
+kindly upon me, lighted a fire in the dingy grate; and, then, what
+a change!--the dingy room seemed dingy no more! Oh the luxury of a
+cheerful fire after a chill night's journey! I drew near to the
+blazing grate, rubbed my hands, and felt glad.
+
+And, when I had warmed myself, I turned to the table, on which, by
+this time, the people of the house had placed my breakfast; and I
+ate and I drank; and, as I ate and drank, I mused within myself,
+and my eyes were frequently directed to a small green box, which
+constituted part of my luggage, and which, with the rest of my
+things, stood in one corner of the room, till at last, leaving my
+breakfast unfinished, I rose, and, going to the box, unlocked it,
+and took out two or three bundles of papers tied with red tape,
+and, placing them on the table, I resumed my seat and my breakfast,
+my eyes intently fixed upon the bundles of papers all the time.
+
+And when I had drained the last cup of tea out of a dingy teapot,
+and ate the last slice of the dingy loaf, I untied one of the
+bundles, and proceeded to look over the papers, which were closely
+written over in a singular hand, and I read for some time, till at
+last I said to myself, 'It will do.' And then I looked at the
+other bundle for some time without untying it; and at last I said,
+'It will do also.' And then I turned to the fire, and, putting my
+feet against the sides of the grate, I leaned back on my chair,
+and, with my eyes upon the fire, fell into deep thought.
+
+And there I continued in thought before the fire, until my eyes
+closed, and I fell asleep; which was not to be wondered at, after
+the fatigue and cold which I had lately undergone on the coach-top;
+and, in my sleep, I imagined myself still there, amidst darkness
+and rain, hurrying now over wild heaths, and now along roads
+overhung with thick and umbrageous trees, and sometimes methought I
+heard the horn of the guard, and sometimes the voice of the
+coachman, now chiding, now encouraging his horses, as they toiled
+through the deep and miry ways. At length a tremendous crack of a
+whip saluted the tympanum of my ear, and I started up broad awake,
+nearly oversetting the chair on which I reclined--and lo! I was in
+the dingy room before the fire, which was by this time half
+extinguished. In my dream I had confounded the noise of the street
+with those of my night journey; the crack which had aroused me I
+soon found proceeded from the whip of a carter, who, with many
+oaths, was flogging his team below the window.
+
+Looking at a clock which stood upon the mantelpiece, I perceived
+that it was past eleven; whereupon I said to myself, 'I am wasting
+my time foolishly and unprofitably, forgetting that I am now in the
+big world, without anything to depend upon save my own exertions';
+and then I adjusted my dress, and, locking up the bundle of papers
+which I had not read, I tied up the other, and, taking it under my
+arm, I went downstairs; and, after asking a question or two of the
+people of the house, I sallied forth into the street with a
+determined look, though at heart I felt somewhat timorous at the
+idea of venturing out alone into the mazes of the mighty city, of
+which I had heard much, but of which, of my own knowledge, I knew
+nothing.
+
+I had, however, no great cause for anxiety in the present instance;
+I easily found my way to the place which I was in quest of--one of
+the many new squares on the northern side of the metropolis, and
+which was scarcely ten minutes' walk from the street in which I had
+taken up my abode. Arriving before the door of a tolerably large
+house which bore a certain number, I stood still for a moment in a
+kind of trepidation, looking anxiously at the door; I then slowly
+passed on till I came to the end of the square, where I stood
+still, and pondered for a while. Suddenly, however, like one who
+has formed a resolution, I clenched my right hand, flinging my hat
+somewhat on one side, and, turning back with haste to the door
+before which I had stopped, I sprang up the steps, and gave a loud
+rap, ringing at the same time the bell of the area. After the
+lapse of a minute the door was opened by a maid-servant of no very
+cleanly or prepossessing appearance, of whom I demanded, in a tone
+of some hauteur, whether the master of the house was at home.
+Glancing for a moment at the white paper bundle beneath my arm, the
+handmaid made no reply in words, but, with a kind of toss of her
+head, flung the door open, standing on one side as if to let me
+enter. I did enter; and the hand-maid, having opened another door
+on the right hand, went in, and said something which I could not
+hear: after a considerable pause, however, I heard the voice of a
+man say, 'Let him come in'; whereupon the handmaid, coming out,
+motioned me to enter, and, on my obeying, instantly closed the door
+behind me.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+
+The sinister glance--Excellent correspondent--Quite original--My
+system--A losing trade--Merit--Starting a Review--What have you
+got?--Stop!--Dairyman's Daughter--Oxford principles--More
+conversation--How is this?
+
+There were two individuals in the room in which I now found myself;
+it was a small study, surrounded with bookcases, the window looking
+out upon the square. Of these individuals he who appeared to be
+the principal stood with his back to the fireplace. He was a tall
+stout man, about sixty, dressed in a loose morning gown. The
+expression of his countenance would have been bluff but for a
+certain sinister glance, and his complexion might have been called
+rubicund but for a considerable tinge of bilious yellow. He eyed
+me askance as I entered. The other, a pale, shrivelled-looking
+person, sat at a table apparently engaged with an account-book; he
+took no manner of notice of me, never once lifting his eyes from
+the page before him.
+
+'Well, sir, what is your pleasure?' said the big man, in a rough
+tone, as I stood there, looking at him wistfully--as well I might--
+for upon that man, at the time of which I am speaking, my
+principal, I may say my only, hopes rested.
+
+'Sir,' said I, 'my name is so-and-so, and I am the bearer of a
+letter to you from Mr. so-and-so, an old friend and correspondent
+of yours.'
+
+The countenance of the big man instantly lost the suspicious and
+lowering expression which it had hitherto exhibited; he strode
+forward, and, seizing me by the hand, gave me a violent squeeze.
+
+'My dear sir,' said he, 'I am rejoiced to see you in London. I
+have been long anxious for the pleasure--we are old friends, though
+we have never before met. Taggart,' said he to the man who sat at
+the desk, 'this is our excellent correspondent, the friend and
+pupil of our other excellent correspondent.'
+
+The pale, shrivelled-looking man slowly and deliberately raised his
+head from the account-book, and surveyed me for a moment or two;
+not the slightest emotion was observable in his countenance. It
+appeared to me, however, that I could detect a droll twinkle in his
+eye: his curiosity, if he had any, was soon gratified; he made me
+a kind of bow, pulled out a snuff-box, took a pinch of snuff, and
+again bent his head over the page.
+
+'And now, my dear sir,' said the big man, 'pray sit down, and tell
+me the cause of your visit. I hope you intend to remain here a day
+or two.'
+
+'More than that,' said I, 'I am come to take up my abode in
+London.'
+
+'Glad to hear it; and what have you been about of late? got
+anything which will suit me? Sir, I admire your style of writing,
+and your manner of thinking; and I am much obliged to my good
+friend and correspondent for sending me some of your productions.
+I inserted them all, and wished there had been more of them--quite
+original, sir, quite: took with the public, especially the essay
+about the non-existence of anything. I don't exactly agree with
+you though; I have my own peculiar ideas about matter--as you know,
+of course, from the book I have published. Nevertheless, a very
+pretty piece of speculative philosophy--no such thing as matter--
+impossible that there should be--ex nihilo--what is the Greek? I
+have forgot--very pretty indeed; very original.'
+
+'I am afraid, sir, it was very wrong to write such trash, and yet
+more to allow it to be published.'
+
+'Trash! not at all; a very pretty piece of speculative philosophy;
+of course you were wrong in saying there is no world. The world
+must exist, to have the shape of a pear; and that the world is
+shaped like a pear, and not like an apple, as the fools of Oxford
+say, I have satisfactorily proved in my book. Now, if there were
+no world, what would become of my system? But what do you propose
+to do in London?'
+
+'Here is the letter, sir,' said I, 'of our good friend, which I
+have not yet given to you; I believe it will explain to you the
+circumstances under which I come.'
+
+He took the letter, and perused it with attention. 'Hem!' said he,
+with a somewhat altered manner, 'my friend tells me that you are
+come up to London with the view of turning your literary talents to
+account, and desires me to assist you in my capacity of publisher
+in bringing forth two or three works which you have prepared. My
+good friend is perhaps not aware that for some time past I have
+given up publishing--was obliged to do so--had many severe losses--
+do nothing at present in that line, save sending out the Magazine
+once a month; and, between ourselves, am thinking of disposing of
+that--wish to retire--high time at my age--so you see--'
+
+'I am very sorry, sir, to hear that you cannot assist me' (and I
+remember that I felt very nervous); 'I had hoped--'
+
+'A losing trade, I assure you, sir; literature is a drug. Taggart,
+what o'clock is?'
+
+'Well, sir!' said I, rising, 'as you cannot assist me, I will now
+take my leave; I thank you sincerely for your kind reception, and
+will trouble you no longer.'
+
+'Oh, don't go. I wish to have some further conversation with you;
+and perhaps I may hit upon some plan to benefit you. I honour
+merit, and always make a point to encourage it when I can; but--
+Taggart, go to the bank, and tell them to dishonour the bill twelve
+months after date for thirty pounds which becomes due to-morrow. I
+am dissatisfied with that fellow who wrote the fairy tales, and
+intend to give him all the trouble in my power. Make haste.'
+
+Taggart did not appear to be in any particular haste. First of
+all, he took a pinch of snuff, then, rising from his chair, slowly
+and deliberately drew his wig, for he wore a wig of a brown colour,
+rather more over his forehead than it had previously been, buttoned
+his coat, and, taking his hat, and an umbrella which stood in a
+corner, made me a low bow, and quitted the room.
+
+'Well, sir, where were we? Oh, I remember, we were talking about
+merit. Sir, I always wish to encourage merit, especially when it
+comes so highly recommended as in the present instance. Sir, my
+good friend and correspondent speaks of you in the highest terms.
+Sir, I honour my good friend, and have the highest respect for his
+opinion in all matters connected with literature--rather eccentric
+though. Sir, my good friend has done my periodical more good and
+more harm than all the rest of my correspondents. Sir, I shall
+never forget the sensation caused by the appearance of his article
+about a certain personage whom he proved--and I think
+satisfactorily--to have been a legionary soldier--rather startling,
+was it not? The S- of the world a common soldier, in a marching
+regiment--original, but startling; sir, I honour my good friend.'
+
+'So you have renounced publishing, sir,' said I, 'with the
+exception of the Magazine?'
+
+'Why, yes; except now and then, under the rose; the old coachman,
+you know, likes to hear the whip. Indeed, at the present moment, I
+am thinking of starting a Review on an entirely new and original
+principle; and it just struck me that you might be of high utility
+in the undertaking--what do you think of the matter?'
+
+'I should be happy, sir, to render you any assistance, but I am
+afraid the employment you propose requires other qualifications
+than I possess; however, I can make the essay. My chief intention
+in coming to London was to lay before the world what I had
+prepared; and I had hoped by your assistance--'
+
+'Ah! I see, ambition! Ambition is a very pretty thing; but, sir,
+we must walk before we run, according to the old saying--what is
+that you have got under your arm?'
+
+'One of the works to which I was alluding; the one, indeed, which I
+am most anxious to lay before the world, as I hope to derive from
+it both profit and reputation.'
+
+'Indeed! what do you call it?'
+
+'Ancient songs of Denmark, heroic and romantic, translated by
+myself; with notes philological, critical, and historical.'
+
+'Then, sir, I assure you that your time and labour have been
+entirely flung away; nobody would read your ballads, if you were to
+give them to the world to-morrow.'
+
+'I am sure, sir, that you would say otherwise if you would permit
+me to read one to you'; and, without waiting for the answer of the
+big man, nor indeed so much as looking at him, to see whether he
+was inclined or not to hear me, I undid my manuscript, and, with a
+voice trembling with eagerness, I read to the following effect: -
+
+
+Buckshank bold and Elfinstone,
+And more than I can mention here,
+They caused to be built so stout a ship,
+And unto Iceland they would steer.
+
+They launched the ship upon the main,
+Which bellowed like a wrathful bear;
+Down to the bottom the vessel sank,
+A laidly Trold has dragged it there.
+
+Down to the bottom sank young Roland,
+And round about he groped awhile;
+Until he found the path which led
+Unto the bower of Ellenlyle.
+
+
+'Stop!' said the publisher; 'very pretty indeed, and very original;
+beats Scott hollow, and Percy too: but, sir, the day for these
+things is gone by; nobody at present cares for Percy, nor for Scott
+either, save as a novelist; sorry to discourage merit, sir, but
+what can I do! What else have you got?'
+
+'The songs of Ab Gwilym, the Welsh bard, also translated by myself,
+with notes critical, philological, and historical.'
+
+'Pass on--what else?'
+
+'Nothing else,' said I, folding up my manuscript with a sigh,
+'unless it be a romance in the German style; on which, I confess, I
+set very little value.'
+
+'Wild?'
+
+'Yes, sir, very wild.'
+
+'Like the Miller of the Black Valley?'
+
+'Yes, sir, very much like the Miller of the Black Valley.'
+
+'Well, that's better,' said the publisher; 'and yet, I don't know,
+I question whether any one at present cares for the miller himself.
+No, sir, the time for those things is also gone by; German, at
+present, is a drug; and, between ourselves, nobody has contributed
+to make it so more than my good friend and correspondent;--but,
+sir, I see you are a young gentleman of infinite merit, and I
+always wish to encourage merit. Don't you think you could write a
+series of evangelical tales?'
+
+'Evangelical tales, sir?'
+
+'Yes, sir, evangelical novels.'
+
+'Something in the style of Herder?'
+
+'Herder is a drug, sir; nobody cares for Herder--thanks to my good
+friend. Sir, I have in yon drawer a hundred pages about Herder,
+which I dare not insert in my periodical; it would sink it, sir.
+No, sir, something in the style of the Dairyman's Daughter.'
+
+'I never heard of the work till the present moment.'
+
+'Then, sir, procure it by all means. Sir, I could afford as much
+as ten pounds for a well-written tale in the style of the
+Dairyman's Daughter; that is the kind of literature, sir, that
+sells at the present day! It is not the Miller of the Black
+Valley--no, sir, nor Herder either, that will suit the present
+taste; the evangelical body is becoming very strong, sir; the
+canting scoundrels--'
+
+'But, sir, surely you would not pander to a scoundrelly taste?'
+
+'Then, sir, I must give up business altogether. Sir, I have a
+great respect for the goddess Reason--an infinite respect, sir;
+indeed, in my time, I have made a great many sacrifices for her;
+but, sir, I cannot altogether ruin myself for the goddess Reason.
+Sir, I am a friend to Liberty, as is well known; but I must also be
+a friend to my own family. It is with the view of providing for a
+son of mine that I am about to start the Review of which I was
+speaking. He has taken into his head to marry, sir, and I must do
+something for him, for he can do but little for himself. Well,
+sir, I am a friend to Liberty, as I said before, and likewise a
+friend to Reason; but I tell you frankly that the Review which I
+intend to get up under the rose, and present him with when it is
+established, will be conducted on Oxford principles.'
+
+'Orthodox principles, I suppose you mean, sir?'
+
+'I do, sir; I am no linguist, but I believe the words are
+synonymous.'
+
+Much more conversation passed between us, and it was agreed that I
+should become a contributor to the Oxford Review. I stipulated,
+however, that, as I knew little of politics, and cared less, no
+other articles should be required from me than such as were
+connected with belles-lettres and philology; to this the big man
+readily assented. 'Nothing will be required from you,' said he,
+'but what you mention; and now and then, perhaps, a paper on
+metaphysics. You understand German, and perhaps it would be
+desirable that you should review Kant; and in a review of Kant,
+sir, you could introduce to advantage your peculiar notions about
+ex nihilo.' He then reverted to the subject of the Dairyman's
+Daughter, which I promised to take into consideration. As I was
+going away, he invited me to dine with him on the ensuing Sunday.
+
+'That's a strange man!' said I to myself, after I had left the
+house; 'he is evidently very clever; but I cannot say that I like
+him much, with his Oxford Reviews and Dairyman's Daughters. But
+what can I do? I am almost without a friend in the world. I wish
+I could find some one who would publish my ballads, or my songs of
+Ab Gwilym. In spite of what the big man says, I am convinced that,
+once published, they would bring me much fame and profit. But how
+is this?--what a beautiful sun!--the porter was right in saying
+that the day would clear up--I will now go to my dingy lodging,
+lock up my manuscripts, and then take a stroll about the big city.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+
+The walk--London's Cheape--Street of the Lombards--Strange bridge--
+Main arch--The roaring gulf--The boat--Cly-faking--A comfort--The
+book--The blessed woman--No trap.
+
+So I set out on my walk to see the wonders of the big city, and, as
+chance would have it, I directed my course to the east. The day,
+as I have already said, had become very fine, so that I saw the
+great city to advantage, and the wonders thereof: and much I
+admired all I saw; and, amongst other things, the huge cathedral,
+standing so proudly on the most commanding ground in the big city;
+and I looked up to the mighty dome, surmounted by a golden cross,
+and I said within myself, 'That dome must needs be the finest in
+the world'; and I gazed upon it till my eyes reeled, and my brain
+became dizzy, and I thought that the dome would fall and crush me;
+and I shrank within myself, and struck yet deeper into the heart of
+the big city.
+
+'O Cheapside! Cheapside!' said I, as I advanced up that mighty
+thoroughfare, 'truly thou art a wonderful place for hurry, noise,
+and riches! Men talk of the bazaars of the East--I have never seen
+them--but I daresay that, compared with thee, they are poor places,
+silent places, abounding with empty boxes, O thou pride of London's
+east!--mighty mart of old renown!--for thou art not a place of
+yesterday:- long before the Roses red and white battled in fair
+England, thou didst exist--a place of throng and bustle--place of
+gold and silver, perfumes and fine linen. Centuries ago thou
+couldst extort the praises even of the fiercest foes of England.
+Fierce bards of Wales, sworn foes of England, sang thy praises
+centuries ago; and even the fiercest of them all, Red Julius
+himself, wild Glendower's bard, had a word of praise for London's
+'Cheape,' for so the bards of Wales styled thee in their flowing
+odes. Then, if those who were not English, and hated England, and
+all connected therewith, had yet much to say in thy praise, when
+thou wast far inferior to what thou art now, why should true-born
+Englishmen, or those who call themselves so, turn up their noses at
+thee, and scoff thee at the present day, as I believe they do?
+But, let others do as they will, I, at least, who am not only an
+Englishman, but an East Englishman, will not turn up my nose at
+thee, but will praise and extol thee, calling thee mart of the
+world--a place of wonder and astonishment!--and, were it right and
+fitting to wish that anything should endure for ever, I would say
+prosperity to Cheapside, throughout all ages--may it be the world's
+resort for merchandise, world without end.
+
+And when I had passed through the Cheape I entered another street,
+which led up a kind of ascent, and which proved to be the street of
+the Lombards, called so from the name of its first founders; and I
+walked rapidly up the street of the Lombards, neither looking to
+the right nor left, for it had no interest for me, though I had a
+kind of consciousness that mighty things were being transacted
+behind its walls: but it wanted the throng, bustle, and outward
+magnificence of the Cheape, and it had never been spoken of by
+'ruddy bards'! And, when I had got to the end of the street of the
+Lombards, I stood still for some time, deliberating within myself
+whether I should turn to the right or the left, or go straight
+forward, and at last I turned to the right, down a street of rapid
+descent, and presently found myself upon a bridge which traversed
+the river which runs by the big city.
+
+A strange kind of bridge it was; huge and massive, and seemingly of
+great antiquity. It had an arched back, like that of a hog, a high
+balustrade, and at either side, at intervals, were stone bowers
+bulking over the river, but open on the other side, and furnished
+with a semicircular bench. Though the bridge was wide--very wide--
+it was all too narrow for the concourse upon it. Thousands of
+human beings were pouring over the bridge. But what chiefly struck
+my attention was a double row of carts and wagons, the generality
+drawn by horses as large as elephants, each row striving hard in a
+different direction, and not unfrequently brought to a stand-still.
+Oh the cracking of whips, the shouts and oaths of the carters, and
+the grating of wheels upon the enormous stones that formed the
+pavement! In fact, there was a wild burly-burly upon the bridge,
+which nearly deafened me. But, if upon the bridge there was a
+confusion, below it there was a confusion ten times confounded.
+The tide, which was fast ebbing, obstructed by the immense piers of
+the old bridge, poured beneath the arches with a fall of several
+feet, forming in the river below as many whirlpools as there were
+arches. Truly tremendous was the roar of the descending waters,
+and the bellow of the tremendous gulfs, which swallowed them for a
+time, and then cast them forth, foaming and frothing from their
+horrid wombs. Slowly advancing along the bridge, I came to the
+highest point, and there I stood still, close beside one of the
+stone bowers, in which, beside a fruit-stall, sat an old woman,
+with a pan of charcoal at her feet, and a book in her hand, in
+which she appeared to be reading intently. There I stood, just
+above the principal arch, looking through the balustrade at the
+scene that presented itself--and such a scene! Towards the left
+bank of the river, a forest of masts, thick and close, as far as
+the eye could reach; spacious wharfs, surmounted with gigantic
+edifices; and, far away, Caesar's Castle, with its White Tower. To
+the right, another forest of masts, and a maze of buildings, from
+which, here and there, shot up to the sky chimneys taller than
+Cleopatra's Needle, vomiting forth huge wreaths of that black smoke
+which forms the canopy--occasionally a gorgeous one--of the more
+than Babel city. Stretching before me, the troubled breast of the
+mighty river, and, immediately below, the main whirlpool of the
+Thames--the Maelstrom of the bulwarks of the middle arch--a grisly
+pool, which, with its superabundance of horror, fascinated me. Who
+knows but I should have leapt into its depths?--I have heard of
+such things--but for a rather startling occurrence which broke the
+spell. As I stood upon the bridge, gazing into the jaws of the
+pool, a small boat shot suddenly through the arch beneath my feet.
+There were three persons in it; an oarsman in the middle, whilst a
+man and woman sat at the stern. I shall never forget the thrill of
+horror which went through me at this sudden apparition. What!--a
+boat--a small boat--passing beneath that arch into yonder roaring
+gulf! Yes, yes, down through that awful water-way, with more than
+the swiftness of an arrow, shot the boat, or skiff, right into the
+jaws of the pool. A monstrous breaker curls over the prow--there
+is no hope; the boat is swamped, and all drowned in that strangling
+vortex. No! the boat, which appeared to have the buoyancy of a
+feather, skipped over the threatening horror, and, the next moment,
+was out of danger, the boatman--a true boatman of Cockaigne that--
+elevating one of his sculls in sign of triumph, the man hallooing,
+and the woman, a true Englishwoman that--of a certain class--waving
+her shawl. Whether any one observed them save myself, or whether
+the feat was a common one, I know not; but nobody appeared to take
+any notice of them. As for myself, I was so excited that I strove
+to clamber up the balustrade of the bridge, in order to obtain a
+better view of the daring adventurers. Before I could accomplish
+my design, however, I felt myself seized by the body, and, turning
+my head, perceived the old fruit-woman, who was clinging to me.
+
+'Nay, dear! don't--don't!' said she. 'Don't fling yourself over--
+perhaps you may have better luck next time!'
+
+'I was not going to fling myself over,' said I, dropping from the
+balustrade; 'how came you to think of such a thing?'
+
+'Why, seeing you clamber up so fiercely, I thought you might have
+had ill luck, and that you wished to make away with yourself.'
+
+'Ill luck,' said I, going into the stone bower, and sitting down.
+'What do you mean? ill luck in what?'
+
+'Why, no great harm, dear! cly-faking perhaps.'
+
+'Are you coming over me with dialects,' said I, 'speaking unto me
+in fashions I wot nothing of?'
+
+'Nay, dear! don't look so strange with those eyes of your'n, nor
+talk so strangely; I don't understand you.'
+
+'Nor I you; what do you mean by cly-faking?'
+
+'Lor, dear! no harm; only taking a handkerchief now and then.'
+
+'Do you take me for a thief?
+
+'Nay, dear! don't make use of bad language; we never calls them
+thieves here, but prigs and fakers: to tell you the truth, dear,
+seeing you spring at that railing put me in mind of my own dear
+son, who is now at Bot'ny: when he had bad luck, he always used to
+talk of flinging himself over the bridge; and, sure enough, when
+the traps were after him, he did fling himself into the river, but
+that was off the bank; nevertheless, the traps pulled him out, and
+he is now suffering his sentence; so you see you may speak out, if
+you have done anything in the harmless line, for I am my son's own
+mother, I assure you.'
+
+'So you think there's no harm in stealing?'
+
+'No harm in the world, dear! Do you think my own child would have
+been transported for it, if there had been any harm in it? and,
+what's more, would the blessed woman in the book here have written
+her life as she has done, and given it to the world, if there had
+been any harm in faking? She, too, was what they call a thief and
+a cut-purse; ay, and was transported for it, like my dear son; and
+do you think she would have told the world so, if there had been
+any harm in the thing? Oh, it is a comfort to me that the blessed
+woman was transported, and came back--for come back she did, and
+rich too--for it is an assurance to me that my dear son, who was
+transported too, will come back like her.'
+
+'What was her name?'
+
+'Her name, blessed Mary Flanders.'
+
+'Will you let me look at the book?'
+
+'Yes, dear, that I will, if you promise me not to run away with
+it.'
+
+I took the book from her hand; a short thick volume, at least a
+century old, bound with greasy black leather. I turned the yellow
+and dog's-eared pages, reading here and there a sentence. Yes, and
+no mistake! HIS pen, his style, his spirit might be observed in
+every line of the uncouth-looking old volume--the air, the style,
+the spirit of the writer of the book which first taught me to read.
+I covered my face with my hand, and thought of my childhood. . . .
+
+'This is a singular book,' said I at last; 'but it does not appear
+to have been written to prove that thieving is no harm, but rather
+to show the terrible consequences of crime: it contains a deep
+moral.'
+
+'A deep what, dear?'
+
+'A--but no matter, I will give you a crown for this volume.'
+
+'No, dear, I will not sell the volume for a crown.'
+
+'I am poor,' said I; 'but I will give you two silver crowns for
+your volume.'
+
+'No, dear, I will not sell my volume for two silver crowns; no, nor
+for the golden one in the king's tower down there; without my book
+I should mope and pine, and perhaps fling myself into the river;
+but I am glad you like it, which shows that I was right about you,
+after all; you are one of our party, and you have a flash about
+that eye of yours which puts me just in mind of my dear son. No,
+dear, I won't sell you my book; but, if you like, you may have a
+peep into it whenever you come this way. I shall be glad to see
+you; you are one of the right sort, for, if you had been a common
+one, you would have run away with the thing; but you scorn such
+behaviour, and, as you are so flash of your money, though you say
+you are poor, you may give me a tanner to buy a little baccy with;
+I love baccy, dear, more by token that it comes from the
+plantations to which the blessed woman was sent.'
+
+'What's a tanner?' said I.
+
+'Lor! don't you know, dear? Why, a tanner is sixpence; and, as you
+were talking just now about crowns, it will be as well to tell you
+that those of our trade never calls them crowns, but bulls; but I
+am talking nonsense, just as if you did not know all that already,
+as well as myself; you are only shamming--I'm no trap, dear, nor
+more was the blessed woman in the book. Thank you, dear--thank you
+for the tanner; if I don't spend it, I'll keep it in remembrance of
+your sweet face. What, you are going?--well, first let me whisper
+a word to you. If you have any clies to sell at any time, I'll buy
+them of you; all safe with me; I never peach, and scores a trap; so
+now, dear, God bless you! and give you good luck. Thank you for
+your pleasant company, and thank you for the tanner.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+
+The tanner--The hotel--Drinking claret--London journal--New field--
+Commonplaceness--The three individuals--Botheration--Frank and
+ardent.
+
+'Tanner!' said I musingly, as I left the bridge; 'Tanner! what can
+the man who cures raw skins by means of a preparation of oak bark
+and other materials have to do with the name which these fakers, as
+they call themselves, bestow on the smallest silver coin in these
+dominions? Tanner! I can't trace the connection between the man
+of bark and the silver coin, unless journeymen tanners are in the
+habit of working for sixpence a day. But I have it,' I continued,
+flourishing my hat over my head, 'tanner, in this instance, is not
+an English word.' Is it not surprising that the language of Mr.
+Petulengro and of Tawno Chikno is continually coming to my
+assistance whenever I appear to be at a nonplus with respect to the
+derivation of crabbed words? I have made out crabbed words in
+AEschylus by means of the speech of Chikno and Petulengro, and even
+in my Biblical researches I have derived no slight assistance from
+it. It appears to be a kind of picklock, an open sesame, Tanner--
+Tawno! the one is but a modification of the other; they were
+originally identical, and have still much the same signification.
+Tanner, in the language of the apple-woman, meaneth the smallest of
+English silver coins; and Tawno, in the language of the
+Petulengres, though bestowed upon the biggest of the Romans,
+according to strict interpretation signifieth a little child.
+
+So I left the bridge, retracing my steps for a considerable way, as
+I thought I had seen enough in the direction in which I had
+hitherto been wandering; I should say that I scarcely walked less
+than thirty miles about the big city on the day of my first
+arrival. Night came on, but still I was walking about, my eyes
+wide open, and admiring everything that presented itself to them.
+Everything was new to me, for everything is different in London
+from what it is elsewhere--the people, their language, the horses,
+the tout ensemble--even the stones of London are different from
+others--at least it appeared to me that I had never walked with the
+same case and facility on the flagstones of a country town as on
+those of London; so I continued roving about till night came on,
+and then the splendour of some of the shops particularly struck me.
+'A regular Arabian Nights entertainment!' said I, as I looked into
+one on Cornhill, gorgeous with precious merchandise, and lighted up
+with lustres, the rays of which were reflected from a hundred
+mirrors.
+
+But, notwithstanding the excellence of the London pavement, I began
+about nine o'clock to feel myself thoroughly tired; painfully and
+slowly did I drag my feet along. I also felt very much in want of
+some refreshment, and I remembered that since breakfast I had taken
+nothing. I was now in the Strand, and, glancing about, I perceived
+that I was close by an hotel, which bore over the door the somewhat
+remarkable name of Holy Lands. Without a moment's hesitation I
+entered a well-lighted passage, and, turning to the left, I found
+myself in a well-lighted coffee-room, with a well-dressed and
+frizzled waiter before me, 'Bring me some claret,' said I, for I
+was rather faint than hungry, and I felt ashamed to give a humbler
+order to so well-dressed an individual. The waiter looked at me
+for a moment; then, making a low bow, he bustled off, and I sat
+myself down in the box nearest to the window. Presently the waiter
+returned, bearing beneath his left arm a long bottle, and between
+the fingers of his right hand two large purple glasses; placing the
+latter on the table, he produced a corkscrew, drew the cork in a
+twinkling, set the bottle down before me with a bang, and then,
+standing still, appeared to watch my movements. You think I don't
+know how to drink a glass of claret, thought I to myself. I'll
+soon show you how we drink claret where I come from; and, filling
+one of the glasses to the brim, I flickered it for a moment between
+my eyes and the lustre, and then held it to my nose; having given
+that organ full time to test the bouquet of the wine, I applied the
+glass to my lips, taking a large mouthful of the wine, which I
+swallowed slowly and by degrees, that the palate might likewise
+have an opportunity of performing its functions. A second mouthful
+I disposed of more summarily; then, placing the empty glass upon
+the table, I fixed my eyes upon the bottle, and said--nothing;
+whereupon the waiter, who had been observing the whole process with
+considerable attention, made me a bow yet more low than before,
+and, turning on his heel, retired with a smart chuck of his head,
+as much as to say, It is all right: the young man is used to
+claret.
+
+And when the waiter had retired I took a second glass of the wine,
+which I found excellent; and, observing a newspaper lying near me,
+I took it up and began perusing it. It has been observed somewhere
+that people who are in the habit of reading newspapers every day
+are not unfrequently struck with the excellence of style and
+general talent which they display. Now, if that be the case, how
+must I have been surprised, who was reading a newspaper for the
+first time, and that one of the best of the London journals! Yes,
+strange as it may seem, it was nevertheless true that, up to the
+moment of which I am speaking, I had never read a newspaper of any
+description. I of course had frequently seen journals, and even
+handled them; but, as for reading them, what were they to me? I
+cared not for news. But here I was now with my claret before me,
+perusing, perhaps, the best of all the London journals; it was not
+the -, and I was astonished: an entirely new field of literature
+appeared to be opened to my view. It was a discovery, but I
+confess rather an unpleasant one; for I said to myself, If literary
+talent is so very common in London, that the journals, things
+which, as their very name denotes, are ephemeral, are written in a
+style like the article I have been perusing, how can I hope to
+distinguish myself in this big town, when, for the life of me, I
+don't think I could write anything half so clever as what I have
+been reading? And then I laid down the paper, and fell into deep
+musing; rousing myself from which, I took a glass of wine, and,
+pouring out another, began musing again. What I have been reading,
+thought I, is certainly very clever and very talented; but talent
+and cleverness I think I have heard some one say are very
+commonplace things, only fitted for everyday occasions. I question
+whether the man who wrote the book I saw this day on the bridge was
+a clever man; but, after all, was he not something much better? I
+don't think he could have written this article, but then he wrote
+the book which I saw on the bridge. Then, if he could not have
+written the article on which I now hold my forefinger--and I do not
+believe he could--why should I feel discouraged at the
+consciousness that I, too, could not write it? I certainly could
+no more have written the article than he could; but then, like him,
+though I would not compare myself to the man who wrote the book I
+saw upon the bridge, I think I could--and here I emptied the glass
+of claret--write something better.
+
+Thereupon I resumed the newspaper; and, as I was before struck with
+the fluency of style and the general talent which it displayed, I
+was now equally so with its commonplaceness and want of originality
+on every subject; and it was evident to me that, whatever advantage
+these newspaper-writers might have over me in some points, they had
+never studied the Welsh bards, translated Kaempe Viser, or been
+under the pupilage of Mr. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno.
+
+And as I sat conning the newspaper three individuals entered the
+room, and seated themselves in the box at the farther end of which
+I was. They were all three very well dressed; two of them elderly
+gentlemen, the third a young man about my own age, or perhaps a
+year or two older: they called for coffee; and, after two or three
+observations, the two eldest commenced a conversation in French,
+which, however, though they spoke it fluently enough, I perceived
+at once was not their native language; the young man, however, took
+no part in their conversation, and when they addressed a portion to
+him, which indeed was but rarely, merely replied by a monosyllable.
+I have never been a listener, and I paid but little heed to their
+discourse, nor indeed to themselves; as I occasionally looked up,
+however, I could perceive that the features of the young man, who
+chanced to be seated exactly opposite to me, wore an air of
+constraint and vexation. This circumstance caused me to observe
+him more particularly than I otherwise should have done: his
+features were handsome and prepossessing; he had dark brown hair
+and a high-arched forehead. After the lapse of half an hour, the
+two elder individuals, having finished their coffee, called for the
+waiter, and then rose as if to depart, the young man, however,
+still remaining seated in the box. The others, having reached the
+door, turned round, and, finding that the youth did not follow
+them, one of them called to him with a tone of some authority;
+whereupon the young man rose, and, pronouncing half audibly the
+word 'botheration,' rose and followed them. I now observed that he
+was remarkably tall. All three left the house. In about ten
+minutes, finding nothing more worth reading in the newspaper, I
+laid it down, and though the claret was not yet exhausted, I was
+thinking of betaking myself to my lodgings, and was about to call
+the waiter, when I heard a step in the passage, and in another
+moment the tall young man entered the room, advanced to the same
+box, and, sitting down nearly opposite to me, again pronounced to
+himself, but more audibly than before, the same word.
+
+'A troublesome world this, sir,' said I, looking at him.
+
+'Yes,' said the young man, looking fixedly at me; 'but I am afraid
+we bring most of our troubles on our own heads--at least I can say
+so of myself,' he added, laughing. Then, after a pause, 'I beg
+pardon,' he said, 'but am I not addressing one of my own country?'
+
+'Of what country are you?' said I.
+
+'Ireland.'
+
+'I am not of your country, sir; but I have an infinite veneration
+for your country, as Strap said to the French soldier. Will you
+take a glass of wine?'
+
+'Ah, de tout mon coeur, as the parasite said to Gil Blas,' cried
+the young man, laughing. 'Here's to our better acquaintance!'
+
+And better acquainted we soon became; and I found that, in making
+the acquaintance of the young man, I had indeed made a valuable
+acquisition; he was accomplished, highly connected, and bore the
+name of Francis Ardry. Frank and ardent he was, and in a very
+little time had told me much that related to himself, and in return
+I communicated a general outline of my own history; he listened
+with profound attention, but laughed heartily when I told him some
+particulars of my visit in the morning to the publisher, whom he
+had frequently heard of.
+
+We left the house together.
+
+'We shall soon see each other again,' said he, as we separated at
+the door of my lodging.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+
+Dine with the publisher--Religions--No animal food--Unprofitable
+discussions--Principles of criticism--The book market--Newgate
+lives--Goethe a drug--German acquirements--Moral dignity.
+
+On the Sunday I was punctual to my appointment to dine with the
+publisher. As I hurried along the square in which his house stood,
+my thoughts were fixed so intently on the great man, that I passed
+by him without seeing him. He had observed me, however, and joined
+me just as I was about to knock at the door. 'Let us take a turn
+in the square,' said he, 'we shall not dine for half an hour.'
+
+'Well,' said he, as we were walking in the square, 'what have you
+been doing since I last saw you?'
+
+'I have been looking about London,' said I, 'and I have bought the
+Dairyman's Daughter; here it is.'
+
+'Pray put it up,' said the publisher; 'I don't want to look at such
+trash. Well, do you think you could write anything like it?'
+
+'I do not,' said I.
+
+'How is that?' said the publisher, looking at me.
+
+'Because,' said I, 'the man who wrote it seems to be perfectly well
+acquainted with his subject; and, moreover, to write from the
+heart.'
+
+'By the subject you mean--'
+
+'Religion.'
+
+'And ain't you acquainted with religion?'
+
+'Very little.'
+
+'I am sorry for that,' said the publisher seriously, 'for he who
+sets up for an author ought to be acquainted not only with
+religion, but religions, and indeed with all subjects, like my good
+friend in the country. It is well that I have changed my mind
+about the Dairyman's Daughter, or I really don't know whom I could
+apply to on the subject at the present moment, unless to himself;
+and after all I question whether his style is exactly suited for an
+evangelical novel.'
+
+'Then you do not wish for an imitation of the Dairyman's Daughter?'
+
+'I do not, sir; I have changed my mind, as I told you before; I
+wish to employ you in another line, but will communicate to you my
+intentions after dinner.'
+
+At dinner, beside the publisher and myself, were present his wife
+and son with his newly-married bride; the wife appeared a quiet
+respectable woman, and the young people looked very happy and good-
+natured; not so the publisher, who occasionally eyed both with
+contempt and dislike. Connected with this dinner there was one
+thing remarkable; the publisher took no animal food, but contented
+himself with feeding voraciously on rice and vegetables prepared in
+various ways.
+
+'You eat no animal food, sir?' said I.
+
+'I do not, sir,' said he; 'I have forsworn it upwards of twenty
+years. In one respect, sir, I am a Brahmin. I abhor taking away
+life--the brutes have as much right to live as ourselves.'
+
+'But,' said I, 'if the brutes were not killed, there would be such
+a superabundance of them, that the land would be overrun with
+them.'
+
+'I do not think so, sir; few are killed in India, and yet there is
+plenty of room.'
+
+'But,' said I, 'Nature intended that they should be destroyed, and
+the brutes themselves prey upon one another, and it is well for
+themselves and the world that they do so. What would be the state
+of things if every insect, bird, and worm were left to perish of
+old age?'
+
+'We will change the subject,' said the publisher; 'I have never
+been a friend of unprofitable discussions.'
+
+I looked at the publisher with some surprise, I had not been
+accustomed to be spoken to so magisterially; his countenance was
+dressed in a portentous frown, and his eye looked more sinister
+than ever; at that moment he put me in mind of some of those
+despots of whom I had read in the history of Morocco, whose word
+was law. He merely wants power, thought I to myself, to be a
+regular Muley Mehemet; and then I sighed, for I remembered how very
+much I was in the power of that man.
+
+The dinner over, the publisher nodded to his wife, who departed,
+followed by her daughter-in-law. The son looked as if he would
+willingly have attended them; he, however, remained seated; and, a
+small decanter of wine being placed on the table, the publisher
+filled two glasses, one of which he handed to myself, and the other
+to his son; saying, 'Suppose you two drink to the success of the
+Review. I would join you,' said he, addressing himself to me, 'but
+I drink no wine; if I am a Brahmin with respect to meat, I am a
+Mahometan with respect to wine.'
+
+So the son and I drank success to the Review, and then the young
+man asked me various questions; for example--How I liked London?--
+Whether I did not think it a very fine place?--Whether I was at the
+play the night before?--and whether I was in the park that
+afternoon? He seemed preparing to ask me some more questions; but,
+receiving a furious look from his father, he became silent, filled
+himself a glass of wine, drank it off, looked at the table for
+about a minute, then got up, pushed back his chair, made me a bow,
+and left the room.
+
+'Is that young gentleman, sir,' said I, 'well versed in the
+principles of criticism?'
+
+'He is not, sir,' said the publisher; 'and, if I place him at the
+head of the Review ostensibly, I do it merely in the hope of
+procuring him a maintenance; of the principle of a thing he knows
+nothing, except that the principle of bread is wheat, and that the
+principle of that wine is grape. Will you take another glass?'
+
+I looked at the decanter; but, not feeling altogether so sure as
+the publisher's son with respect to the principle of what it
+contained, I declined taking any more.
+
+'No, sir,' said the publisher, adjusting himself in his chair, 'he
+knows nothing about criticism, and will have nothing more to do
+with the reviewals than carrying about the books to those who have
+to review them; the real conductor of the Review will be a widely
+different person, to whom I will, when convenient, introduce you.
+And now we will talk of the matter which we touched upon before
+dinner: I told you then that I had changed my mind with respect to
+you; I have been considering the state of the market, sir, the book
+market, and I have come to the conclusion that, though you might be
+profitably employed upon evangelical novels, you could earn more
+money for me, sir, and consequently for yourself, by a compilation
+of Newgate lives and trials.'
+
+'Newgate lives and trials!'
+
+'Yes, sir,' said the publisher, 'Newgate lives and trials; and now,
+sir, I will briefly state to you the services which I expect you to
+perform, and the terms which I am willing to grant. I expect you,
+sir, to compile six volumes of Newgate lives and trials, each
+volume to contain by no manner of means less than one thousand
+pages; the remuneration which you will receive when the work is
+completed will be fifty pounds, which is likewise intended to cover
+any expenses you may incur in procuring books, papers, and
+manuscripts necessary for the compilation. Such will be one of
+your employments, sir,--such the terms. In the second place, you
+will be expected to make yourself useful in the Review--generally
+useful, sir--doing whatever is required of you; for it is not
+customary, at least with me, to permit writers, especially young
+writers, to choose their subjects. In these two departments, sir,
+namely compilation and reviewing, I had yesterday, after due
+consideration, determined upon employing you. I had intended to
+employ you no farther, sir--at least for the present; but, sir,
+this morning I received a letter from my valued friend in the
+country, in which he speaks in terms of strong admiration (I don't
+overstate) of your German acquirements. Sir, he says that it would
+be a thousand pities if your knowledge of the German language
+should be lost to the world, or even permitted to sleep, and he
+entreats me to think of some plan by which it may be turned to
+account. Sir, I am at all times willing, if possible, to oblige my
+worthy friend, and likewise to encourage merit and talent; I have,
+therefore, determined to employ you in German.'
+
+'Sir,' said I, rubbing my hands, 'you are very kind, and so is our
+mutual friend; I shall be happy to make myself useful in German;
+and if you think a good translation from Goethe--his Sorrows for
+example, or more particularly his Faust--'
+
+'Sir,' said the publisher, 'Goethe is a drug; his Sorrows are a
+drug, so is his Faustus, more especially the last, since that fool-
+-rendered him into English. No, sir, I do not want you to
+translate Goethe or anything belonging to him; nor do I want you to
+translate anything from the German; what I want you to do, is to
+translate into German. I am willing to encourage merit, sir; and,
+as my good friend in his last letter has spoken very highly of your
+German acquirements, I have determined that you shall translate my
+book of philosophy into German.'
+
+'Your book of philosophy into German, sir?'
+
+'Yes, sir; my book of philosophy into German. I am not a drug,
+sir, in Germany as Goethe is here, no more is my book. I intend to
+print the translation at Leipzig, sir; and if it turns out a
+profitable speculation, as I make no doubt it will, provided the
+translation be well executed, I will make you some remuneration.
+Sir, your remuneration will be determined by the success of your
+translation.'
+
+'But, sir--'
+
+'Sir,' said the publisher, interrupting me, 'you have heard my
+intentions; I consider that you ought to feel yourself highly
+gratified by my intentions towards you; it is not frequently that I
+deal with a writer, especially a young writer, as I have done with
+you. And now, sir, permit me to inform you that I wish to be
+alone. This is Sunday afternoon, sir; I never go to church, but I
+am in the habit of spending part of every Sunday afternoon alone--
+profitably I hope, sir--in musing on the magnificence of nature and
+the moral dignity of man.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+
+The two volumes--A young author--Intended editor--Quintilian--Loose
+money.
+
+'What can't be cured must be endured,' and 'it is hard to kick
+against the pricks.'
+
+At the period to which I have brought my history, I bethought me of
+the proverbs with which I have headed this chapter, and determined
+to act up to their spirit. I determined not to fly in the face of
+the publisher, and to bear--what I could not cure--his arrogance
+and vanity. At present, at the conclusion of nearly a quarter of a
+century, I am glad that I came to that determination, which I did
+my best to carry into effect.
+
+Two or three days after our last interview, the publisher made his
+appearance in my apartment; he bore two tattered volumes under his
+arm, which he placed on the table. 'I have brought you two volumes
+of lives, sir,' said he, 'which I yesterday found in my garret; you
+will find them of service for your compilation. As I always wish
+to behave liberally and encourage talent, especially youthful
+talent, I shall make no charge for them, though I should be
+justified in so doing, as you are aware that, by our agreement, you
+are to provide any books and materials which may be necessary.
+Have you been in quest of any?'
+
+'No,' said I, 'not yet.'
+
+'Then, sir, I would advise you to lose no time in doing so; you
+must visit all the bookstalls, sir, especially those in the by-
+streets and blind alleys. It is in such places that you will find
+the description of literature you are in want of. You must be up
+and doing, sir; it will not do for an author, especially a young
+author, to be idle in this town. To-night you will receive my book
+of philosophy, and likewise books for the Review. And, by the bye,
+sir, it will be as well for you to review my book of philosophy for
+the Review; the other reviews not having noticed it. Sir, before
+translating it, I wish you to review my book of philosophy for the
+Review.'
+
+'I shall be happy to do my best, sir.'
+
+'Very good, sir; I should be unreasonable to expect anything beyond
+a person's best. And now, sir, if you please, I will conduct you
+to the future editor of the Review. As you are to co-operate, sir,
+I deem it right to make you acquainted.'
+
+The intended editor was a little old man, who sat in a kind of
+wooden pavilion in a small garden behind a house in one of the
+purlieus of the city, composing tunes upon a piano. The walls of
+the pavilion were covered with fiddles of various sizes and
+appearances, and a considerable portion of the floor occupied by a
+pile of books all of one size. The publisher introduced him to me
+as a gentleman scarcely less eminent in literature than in music,
+and me to him as an aspirant critic--a young gentleman scarcely
+less eminent in philosophy than in philology. The conversation
+consisted entirely of compliments till just before we separated,
+when the future editor inquired of me whether I had ever read
+Quintilian; and, on my replying in the negative, expressed his
+surprise that any gentleman should aspire to become a critic who
+had never read Quintilian, with the comfortable information,
+however, that he could supply me with a Quintilian at half-price,
+that is, a translation made by himself some years previously, of
+which he had, pointing to the heap on the floor, still a few copies
+remaining unsold. For some reason or other, perhaps a poor one, I
+did not purchase the editor's translation of Quintilian.
+
+'Sir,' said the publisher, as we were returning from our visit to
+the editor, 'you did right in not purchasing a drug. I am not
+prepared, sir, to say that Quintilian is a drug, never having seen
+him; but I am prepared to say that man's translation is a drug,
+judging from the heap of rubbish on the floor; besides, sir, you
+will want any loose money you may have to purchase the description
+of literature which is required for your compilation.'
+
+The publisher presently paused before the entrance of a very
+forlorn-looking street. 'Sir,' said he, after looking down it with
+attention, 'I should not wonder if in that street you find works
+connected with the description of literature which is required for
+your compilation. It is in streets of this description, sir, and
+blind alleys, where such works are to be found. You had better
+search that street, sir, whilst I continue my way.'
+
+I searched the street to which the publisher had pointed, and, in
+the course of the three succeeding days, many others of a similar
+kind. I did not find the description of literature alluded to by
+the publisher to be a drug, but, on the contrary, both scarce and
+dear. I had expended much more than my loose money long before I
+could procure materials even for the first volume of my
+compilation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+
+Francis Ardry--Certain sharpers--Brave and eloquent--Opposites--
+Flinging the bones--Strange places--Dog-fighting--Learning and
+letters--Batch of dogs--Redoubled application.
+
+One evening I was visited by the tall young gentleman, Francis
+Ardry, whose acquaintance I had formed at the coffee-house. As it
+is necessary that the reader should know something more about this
+young man, who will frequently appear in the course of these pages,
+I will state in a few words who and what he was. He was born of an
+ancient Roman Catholic family in Ireland; his parents, whose only
+child he was, had long been dead. His father, who had survived his
+mother several years, had been a spendthrift, and at his death had
+left the family property considerably embarrassed. Happily,
+however, the son and the estate fell into the hands of careful
+guardians, near relations of the family, by whom the property was
+managed to the best advantage, and every means taken to educate the
+young man in a manner suitable to his expectations. At the age of
+sixteen he was taken from a celebrated school in England at which
+he had been placed, and sent to a small French university, in order
+that he might form an intimate and accurate acquaintance with the
+grand language of the continent. There he continued three years,
+at the end of which he went under the care of a French abbe to
+Germany and Italy. It was in this latter country that he first
+began to cause his guardians serious uneasiness. He was in the
+heyday of youth when he visited Italy, and he entered wildly into
+the various delights of that fascinating region, and, what was
+worse, falling into the hands of certain sharpers, not Italian, but
+English, he was fleeced of considerable sums of money. The abbe,
+who, it seems, was an excellent individual of the old French
+school, remonstrated with his pupil on his dissipation and
+extravagance; but, finding his remonstrances vain, very properly
+informed the guardians of the manner of life of his charge. They
+were not slow in commanding Francis Ardry home; and, as he was
+entirely in their power, he was forced to comply. He had been
+about three months in London when I met him in the coffee-room, and
+the two elderly gentlemen in his company were his guardians. At
+this time they were very solicitous that he should choose for
+himself a profession, offering to his choice either the army or
+law--he was calculated to shine in either of these professions--
+for, like many others of his countrymen, he was brave and eloquent;
+but he did not wish to shackle himself with a profession. As,
+however, his minority did not terminate till he was three-and-
+twenty, of which age he wanted nearly two years, during which he
+would be entirely dependent on his guardians, he deemed it
+expedient to conceal, to a certain degree, his sentiments,
+temporising with the old gentlemen, with whom, notwithstanding his
+many irregularities, he was a great favourite, and at whose death
+he expected to come into a yet greater property than that which he
+inherited from his parents.
+
+Such is a brief account of Francis Ardry--of my friend Francis
+Ardry; for the acquaintance, commenced in the singular manner with
+which the reader is acquainted, speedily ripened into a friendship
+which endured through many long years of separation, and which
+still endures certainly on my part, and on his--if he lives; but it
+is many years since I have heard from Francis Ardry.
+
+And yet many people would have thought it impossible for our
+friendship to have lasted a week--for in many respects no two
+people could be more dissimilar. He was an Irishman--I, an
+Englishman;--he, fiery, enthusiastic, and open-hearted; I, neither
+fiery, enthusiastic, nor open-hearted;--he, fond of pleasure and
+dissipation; I, of study and reflection. Yet it is of such
+dissimilar elements that the most lasting friendships are formed:
+we do not like counterparts of ourselves. 'Two great talkers will
+not travel far together,' is a Spanish saying; I will add, 'Nor two
+silent people'; we naturally love our opposites.
+
+So Francis Ardry came to see me, and right glad I was to see him,
+for I had just flung my books and papers aside, and was wishing for
+a little social converse; and when we had conversed for some little
+time together, Francis Ardry proposed that we should go to the play
+to see Kean; so we went to the play, and saw--not Kean, who at that
+time was ashamed to show himself, but--a man who was not ashamed to
+show himself, and who people said was a much better man than Kean--
+as I have no doubt he was--though whether he was a better actor I
+cannot say, for I never saw Kean.
+
+Two or three evenings after Francis Ardry came to see me again, and
+again we went out together, and Francis Ardry took me to--shall I
+say?--why not?--a gaming-house, where I saw people playing, and
+where I saw Francis Ardry play and lose five guineas, and where I
+lost nothing, because I did not play, though I felt somewhat
+inclined; for a man with a white hat and a sparkling eye held up a
+box which contained something which rattled, and asked me to fling
+the bones. 'There is nothing like flinging the bones!' said he,
+and then I thought I should like to know what kind of thing
+flinging the bones was; I, however, restrained myself. 'There is
+nothing like flinging the bones!' shouted the man, as my friend and
+myself left the room.
+
+Long life and prosperity to Francis Ardry! but for him I should not
+have obtained knowledge which I did of the strange and eccentric
+places of London. Some of the places to which he took me were very
+strange places indeed; but, however strange the places were, I
+observed that the inhabitants thought there were no places like
+their several places, and no occupations like their several
+occupations; and among other strange places to which Francis Ardry
+conducted me was a place not far from the abbey church of
+Westminster.
+
+Before we entered this place our ears were greeted by a confused
+hubbub of human voices, squealing of rats, barking of dogs, and the
+cries of various other animals. Here we beheld a kind of cock-pit,
+around which a great many people, seeming of all ranks, but chiefly
+of the lower, were gathered, and in it we saw a dog destroy a great
+many rats in a very small period; and when the dog had destroyed
+the rats, we saw a fight between a dog and a bear, then a fight
+between two dogs, then . . . .
+
+After the diversions of the day were over, my friend introduced me
+to the genius of the place, a small man of about five feet high,
+with a very sharp countenance, and dressed in a brown jockey coat
+and top boots. 'Joey,' said he, 'this is a friend of mine.' Joey
+nodded to me with a patronising air. 'Glad to see you, sir!--want
+a dog?'
+
+'No,' said I.
+
+'You have got one, then--want to match him?'
+
+'We have a dog at home,' said I, 'in the country; but I can't say I
+should like to match him. Indeed, I do not like dog-fighting.'
+
+'Not like dog-fighting!' said the man, staring.
+
+'The truth is, Joe, that he is just come to town.'
+
+'So I should think; he looks rather green--not like dog-fighting!'
+
+'Nothing like it, is there, Joey?'
+
+'I should think not; what is like it? A time will come, and that
+speedily, when folks will give up everything else, and follow dog-
+fighting.'
+
+'Do you think so?' said I.
+
+'Think so? Let me ask what there is that a man wouldn't give up
+for it?'
+
+'Why,' said I, modestly, 'there's religion.'
+
+'Religion! How you talk. Why, there's myself bred and born an
+Independent, and intended to be a preacher, didn't I give up
+religion for dog-fighting? Religion, indeed! If it were not for
+the rascally law, my pit would fill better on Sundays than any
+other time. Who would go to church when they could come to my pit?
+Religion! why, the parsons themselves come to my pit; and I have
+now a letter in my pocket from one of them, asking me to send him a
+dog.'
+
+'Well, then, politics,' said I.
+
+'Politics! Why, the gemmen in the House would leave Pitt himself,
+if he were alive, to come to my pit. There were three of the best
+of them here to-night, all great horators.--Get on with you, what
+comes next?'
+
+'Why, there's learning and letters.'
+
+'Pretty things, truly, to keep people from dog-fighting. Why,
+there's the young gentlemen from the Abbey School comes here in
+shoals, leaving books, and letters, and masters too. To tell you
+the truth, I rather wish they would mind their letters, for a more
+precious set of young blackguards I never seed. It was only the
+other day I was thinking of calling in a constable for my own
+protection, for I thought my pit would have been torn down by
+them.'
+
+Scarcely knowing what to say, I made an observation at random.
+'You show, by your own conduct,' said I, 'that there are other
+things worth following besides dog-fighting. You practise rat-
+catching and badger-baiting as well.'
+
+The dog-fancier eyed me with supreme contempt.
+
+'Your friend here,' said he, 'might well call you a new one. When
+I talks of dog-fighting, I of course means rat-catching, and
+badger-baiting, ay, and bull-baiting too, just as when I speaks
+religiously, when I says one I means not one but three. And
+talking of religion puts me in mind that I have something else to
+do besides chaffing here, having a batch of dogs to send off by
+this night's packet to the Pope of Rome.'
+
+But at last I had seen enough of what London had to show, whether
+strange or commonplace, so at least I thought, and I ceased to
+accompany my friend in his rambles about town, and to partake of
+his adventures. Our friendship, however, still continued unabated,
+though I saw, in consequence, less of him. I reflected that time
+was passing on--that the little money I had brought to town was
+fast consuming, and that I had nothing to depend upon but my own
+exertions for a fresh supply; and I returned with redoubled
+application to my pursuits.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+
+Occupations--Traduttore traditore--Ode to the Mist--Apple and pear-
+-Reviewing--Current literature--Oxford-like manner--A plain story--
+Ill-regulated mind--Unsnuffed candle--Strange dreams.
+
+I compiled the Chronicles of Newgate; I reviewed books for the
+Review established on an entirely new principle; and I occasionally
+tried my best to translate into German portions of the publisher's
+philosophy. In this last task I experienced more than one
+difficulty. I was a tolerable German scholar, it is true, and I
+had long been able to translate from German into English with
+considerable facility; but to translate from a foreign language
+into your own is a widely different thing from translating from
+your own into a foreign language; and, in my first attempt to
+render the publisher into German, I was conscious of making
+miserable failures, from pure ignorance of German grammar; however,
+by the assistance of grammars and dictionaries, and by extreme
+perseverance, I at length overcame all the difficulties connected
+with the German language. But, alas! another difficulty remained,
+far greater than any connected with German--a difficulty connected
+with the language of the publisher--the language which the great
+man employed in his writings was very hard to understand; I say in
+his writings--for his colloquial English was plain enough. Though
+not professing to be a scholar, he was much addicted, when writing,
+to the use of Greek and Latin terms, not as other people used them,
+but in a manner of his own, which set the authority of dictionaries
+at defiance; the consequence was that I was sometimes utterly at a
+loss to understand the meaning of the publisher. Many a quarter of
+an hour did I pass at this period, staring at periods of the
+publisher, and wondering what he could mean, but in vain, till at
+last, with a shake of the head, I would snatch up the pen, and
+render the publisher literally into German. Sometimes I was almost
+tempted to substitute something of my own for what the publisher
+had written, but my conscience interposed; the awful words,
+Traduttore traditore, commenced ringing in my ears, and I asked
+myself whether I should be acting honourably towards the publisher,
+who had committed to me the delicate task of translating him into
+German; should I be acting honourably towards him, in making him
+speak in German in a manner different from that in which he
+expressed himself in English? No, I could not reconcile such
+conduct with any principle of honour; by substituting something of
+my own in lieu of these mysterious passages of the publisher, I
+might be giving a fatal blow to his whole system of philosophy.
+Besides, when translating into English, had I treated foreign
+authors in this manner? Had I treated the minstrels of the Kaempe
+Viser in this manner?--No. Had I treated Ab Gwilym in this manner?
+Even when translating his Ode to the Mist, in which he is misty
+enough, had I attempted to make Ab Gwilym less misty? No; on
+referring to my translation, I found that Ab Gwilym in my hands was
+quite as misty as in his own. Then, seeing that I had not ventured
+to take liberties with people who had never put themselves into my
+hands for the purpose of being rendered, how could I venture to
+substitute my own thoughts and ideas for the publisher's, who had
+put himself into my hands for that purpose? Forbid it every proper
+feeling!--so I told the Germans, in the publisher's own way, the
+publisher's tale of an apple and a pear.
+
+I at first felt much inclined to be of the publisher's opinion with
+respect to the theory of the pear. After all, why should the earth
+be shaped like an apple, and not like a pear?--it would certainly
+gain in appearance by being shaped like a pear. A pear being a
+handsomer fruit than an apple, the publisher is probably right,
+thought I, and I will say that he is right on this point in the
+notice which I am about to write of his publication for the Review.
+And yet I don't know--said I, after a long fit of musing--I don't
+know but what there is more to be said for the Oxford theory. The
+world may be shaped like a pear, but I don't know that it is; but
+one thing I know, which is, that it does not taste like a pear; I
+have always liked pears, but I don't like the world. The world to
+me tastes much more like an apple, and I have never liked apples.
+I will uphold the Oxford theory--besides, I am writing in an Oxford
+Review, and am in duty bound to uphold the Oxford theory. So in my
+notice I asserted that the world was round; I quoted Scripture, and
+endeavoured to prove that the world was typified by the apple in
+Scripture, both as to shape and properties. 'An apple is round,'
+said I, 'and the world is round--the apple is a sour, disagreeable
+fruit; and who has tasted much of the world without having his
+teeth set on edge?' I, however, treated the publisher, upon the
+whole, in the most urbane and Oxford-like manner; complimenting him
+upon his style, acknowledging the general soundness of his views,
+and only differing with him in the affair of the apple and pear.
+
+I did not like reviewing at all--it was not to my taste; it was not
+in my way; I liked it far less than translating the publisher's
+philosophy, for that was something in the line of one whom a
+competent judge had surnamed Lavengro. I never could understand
+why reviews were instituted; works of merit do not require to be
+reviewed, they can speak for themselves, and require no praising;
+works of no merit at all will die of themselves, they require no
+killing. The Review to which I was attached was, as has been
+already intimated, established on an entirely new plan; it
+professed to review all new publications, which certainly no Review
+had ever professed to do before, other Reviews never pretending to
+review more than one-tenth of the current literature of the day.
+When I say it professed to review all new publications, I should
+add, which should be sent to it; for, of course, the Review would
+not acknowledge the existence of publications, the authors of which
+did not acknowledge the existence of the Review. I don't think,
+however, that the Review had much cause to complain of being
+neglected; I have reason to believe that at least nine-tenths of
+the publications of the day were sent to the Review, and in due
+time reviewed. I had good opportunity of judging--I was connected
+with several departments of the Review, though more particularly
+with the poetical and philosophic ones. An English translation of
+Kant's philosophy made its appearance on my table the day before
+its publication. In my notice of this work I said that the English
+shortly hoped to give the Germans a quid pro quo. I believe at
+that time authors were much in the habit of publishing at their own
+expense. All the poetry which I reviewed appeared to be published
+at the expense of the authors. If I am asked how I comported
+myself, under all circumstances, as a reviewer--I answer,--I did
+not forget that I was connected with a Review established on Oxford
+principles, the editor of which had translated Quintilian. All the
+publications which fell under my notice I treated in a gentlemanly
+and Oxford-like manner, no personalities--no vituperation--no
+shabby insinuations; decorum, decorum was the order of the day.
+Occasionally a word of admonition, but gently expressed, as an
+Oxford undergraduate might have expressed it, or master of arts.
+How the authors whose publications were consigned to my colleagues
+were treated by them I know not; I suppose they were treated in an
+urbane and Oxford-like manner, but I cannot say; I did not read the
+reviewals of my colleagues, I did not read my own after they were
+printed. I did not like reviewing.
+
+Of all my occupations at this period I am free to confess I liked
+that of compiling the Newgate Lives and Trials the best; that is,
+after I had surmounted a kind of prejudice which I originally
+entertained. The trials were entertaining enough; but the lives--
+how full were they of wild and racy adventures, and in what racy,
+genuine language were they told! What struck me most with respect
+to these lives was the art which the writers, whoever they were,
+possessed of telling a plain story. It is no easy thing to tell a
+story plainly and distinctly by mouth; but to tell one on paper is
+difficult indeed, so many snares lie in the way. People are afraid
+to put down what is common on paper, they seek to embellish their
+narratives, as they think, by philosophic speculations and
+reflections; they are anxious to shine, and people who are anxious
+to shine can never tell a plain story. 'So I went with them to a
+music booth, where they made me almost drunk with gin, and began to
+talk their flash language, which I did not understand,' says, or is
+made to say, Henry Simms, executed at Tyburn some seventy years
+before the time of which I am speaking. I have always looked upon
+this sentence as a masterpiece of the narrative style, it is so
+concise and yet so very clear. As I gazed on passages like this,
+and there were many nearly as good in the Newgate lives, I often
+sighed that it was not my fortune to have to render these lives
+into German rather than the publisher's philosophy--his tale of an
+apple and pear.
+
+Mine was an ill-regulated mind at this period. As I read over the
+lives of these robbers and pickpockets, strange doubts began to
+arise in my mind about virtue and crime. Years before, when quite
+a boy, as in one of the early chapters I have hinted, I had been a
+necessitarian; I had even written an essay on crime (I have it now
+before me, penned in a round boyish hand), in which I attempted to
+prove that there is no such thing as crime or virtue, all our
+actions being the result of circumstances or necessity. These
+doubts were now again reviving in my mind; I could not, for the
+life of me, imagine how, taking all circumstances into
+consideration, these highwaymen, these pickpockets, should have
+been anything else than highwaymen and pickpockets; any more than
+how, taking all circumstances into consideration, Bishop Latimer
+(the reader is aware that I had read Foxe's Book of Martyrs) should
+have been anything else than Bishop Latimer. I had a very ill-
+regulated mind at that period.
+
+My own peculiar ideas with respect to everything being a lying
+dream began also to revive. Sometimes at midnight, after having
+toiled for hours at my occupations, I would fling myself back on my
+chair, look about the poor apartment, dimly lighted by an unsnuffed
+candle, or upon the heaps of books and papers before me, and
+exclaim,--'Do I exist? Do these things, which I think I see about
+me, exist, or do they not? Is not everything a dream--a deceitful
+dream? Is not this apartment a dream--the furniture a dream? The
+publisher a dream--his philosophy a dream? Am I not myself a
+dream--dreaming about translating a dream? I can't see why all
+should not be a dream; what's the use of the reality?' And then I
+would pinch myself, and snuff the burdened smoky light. 'I can't
+see, for the life of me, the use of all this; therefore why should
+I think that it exists? If there was a chance, a probability, of
+all this tending to anything, I might believe; but--' and then I
+would stare and think, and after some time shake my head and return
+again to my occupations for an hour or two; and then I would
+perhaps shake, and shiver, and yawn, and look wistfully in the
+direction of my sleeping apartment; and then, but not wistfully, at
+the papers and books before me; and sometimes I would return to my
+papers and books; but oftener I would arise, and, after another
+yawn and shiver, take my light, and proceed to my sleeping chamber.
+
+They say that light fare begets light dreams; my fare at that time
+was light enough; but I had anything but light dreams, for at that
+period I had all kind of strange and extravagant dreams, and
+amongst other things I dreamt that the whole world had taken to
+dog-fighting; and that I, myself, had taken to dog-fighting, and
+that in a vast circus I backed an English bulldog against the
+bloodhound of the Pope of Rome.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+
+My brother--Fits of crying--Mayor-elect--The committee--The Norman
+arch--A word of Greek--Church and State--At my own expense--If you
+please.
+
+One morning I arose somewhat later than usual, having been occupied
+during the greater part of the night with my literary toil. On
+descending from my chamber into the sitting-room I found a person
+seated by the fire, whose glance was directed sideways to the
+table, on which were the usual preparations for my morning's meal.
+Forthwith I gave a cry, and sprang forward to embrace the person;
+for the person by the fire, whose glance was directed to the table,
+was no one else than my brother.
+
+'And how are things going on at home?' said I to my brother, after
+we had kissed and embraced. 'How is my mother, and how is the
+dog?'
+
+'My mother, thank God, is tolerably well,' said my brother, 'but
+very much given to fits of crying. As for the dog, he is not so
+well; but we will talk more of these matters anon,' said my
+brother, again glancing at the breakfast things: 'I am very
+hungry, as you may suppose, after having travelled all night.'
+
+Thereupon I exerted myself to the best of my ability to perform the
+duties of hospitality, and I made my brother welcome--I may say
+more than welcome; and, when the rage of my brother's hunger was
+somewhat abated, we recommenced talking about the matters of our
+little family, and my brother told me much about my mother; he
+spoke of her fits of crying, but said that of late the said fits of
+crying had much diminished, and she appeared to be taking comfort;
+and, if I am not much mistaken, my brother told me that my mother
+had of late the Prayer-book frequently in her hand, and yet oftener
+the Bible.
+
+We were silent for a time--at last I opened my mouth and mentioned
+the dog.
+
+'The dog,' said my brother, 'is, I am afraid, in a very poor way;
+ever since the death he has done nothing but pine and take on. A
+few months ago, you remember, he was as plump and fine as any dog
+in the town; but at present he is little more than skin and bone.
+Once we lost him for two days, and never expected to see him again,
+imagining that some mischance had befallen him; at length I found
+him--where do you think? Chancing to pass by the churchyard, I
+found him seated on the grave!'
+
+'Very strange,' said I; 'but let us talk of something else. It was
+very kind of you to come and see me.'
+
+'Oh, as for that matter, I did not come up to see you, though of
+course I am very glad to see you, having been rather anxious about
+you, like my mother, who has received only one letter from you
+since your departure. No, I did not come up on purpose to see you;
+but on quite a different account. You must know that the
+corporation of our town have lately elected a new mayor, a person
+of many qualifications--big and portly, with a voice like
+Boanerges; a religious man, the possessor of an immense pew; loyal,
+so much so that I once heard him say that he would at any time go
+three miles to hear any one sing "God save the King"; moreover, a
+giver of excellent dinners. Such is our present mayor; who, owing
+to his loyalty, his religion, and a little, perhaps, to his
+dinners, is a mighty favourite; so much so that the town is anxious
+to have his portrait painted in a superior style, so that remote
+posterity may know what kind of man he was, the colour of his hair,
+his air and gait. So a committee was formed some time ago, which
+is still sitting; that is, they dine with the mayor every day to
+talk over the subject. A few days since, to my great surprise,
+they made their appearance in my poor studio, and desired to be
+favoured with a sight of some of my paintings; well, I showed them
+some, and, after looking at them with great attention, they went
+aside and whispered. "He'll do," I heard one say; "Yes, he'll do,"
+said another; and then they came to me, and one of them, a little
+man with a hump on his back, who is a watchmaker, assumed the
+office of spokesman, and made a long speech--(the old town has been
+always celebrated for orators)--in which he told me how much they
+had been pleased with my productions--(the old town has been always
+celebrated for its artistic taste)--and, what do you think? offered
+me the painting of the mayor's portrait, and a hundred pounds for
+my trouble. Well, of course I was much surprised, and for a minute
+or two could scarcely speak; recovering myself, however, I made a
+speech, not so eloquent as that of the watchmaker of course, being
+not so accustomed to speaking; but not so bad either, taking
+everything into consideration, telling them how flattered I felt by
+the honour which they had conferred in proposing to me such an
+undertaking; expressing, however, my fears that I was not competent
+to the task, and concluding by saying what a pity it was that Crome
+was dead. "Crome," said the little man, "Crome; yes, he was a
+clever man, a very clever man in his way; he was good at painting
+landscapes and farm-houses, but he would not do in the present
+instance were he alive. He had no conception of the heroic, sir.
+We want some person capable of representing our mayor striding
+under the Norman arch out of the cathedral." At the mention of the
+heroic an idea came at once into my head. "Oh," said I, "if you
+are in quest of the heroic, I am glad that you came to me; don't
+mistake me," I continued, "I do not mean to say that I could do
+justice to your subject, though I am fond of the heroic; but I can
+introduce you to a great master of the heroic, fully competent to
+do justice to your mayor. Not to me, therefore, be the painting of
+the picture given, but to a friend of mine, the great master of the
+heroic, to the best, the strongest, [Greek text]" I added, for,
+being amongst orators, I thought a word of Greek would tell.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'and what did the orators say?'
+
+'They gazed dubiously at me and at one another,' said my brother;
+'at last the watchmaker asked me who this Mr. Christo was; adding,
+that he had never heard of such a person; that, from my
+recommendation of him, he had no doubt that he was a very clever
+man; but that they should like to know something more about him
+before giving the commission to him. That he had heard of Christie
+the great auctioneer, who was considered to be an excellent judge
+of pictures; but he supposed that I scarcely--Whereupon,
+interrupting the watchmaker, I told him that I alluded neither to
+Christo nor to Christie; but to the painter of Lazarus rising from
+the grave, a painter under whom I had myself studied during some
+months that I had spent in London, and to whom I was indebted for
+much connected with the heroic.
+
+'"I have heard of him," said the watchmaker, "and his paintings
+too; but I am afraid that he is not exactly the gentleman by whom
+our mayor would wish to be painted. I have heard say that he is
+not a very good friend to Church and State. Come, young man," he
+added, "it appears to me that you are too modest; I like your style
+of painting, so do we all, and--why should I mince the matter?--the
+money is to be collected in the town, why should it go into a
+stranger's pocket, and be spent in London?"
+
+'Thereupon I made them a speech, in which I said that art had
+nothing to do with Church and State, at least with English Church
+and State, which had never encouraged it; and that, though Church
+and State were doubtless very fine things, a man might be a very
+good artist who cared not a straw for either. I then made use of
+some more Greek words, and told them how painting was one of the
+Nine Muses, and one of the most independent creatures alive,
+inspiring whom she pleased, and asking leave of nobody; that I
+should be quite unworthy of the favours of the Muse if, on the
+present occasion, I did not recommend them a man whom I considered
+to be a much greater master of the heroic than myself; and that,
+with regard to the money being spent in the city, I had no doubt
+that they would not weigh for a moment such a consideration against
+the chance of getting a true heroic picture for the city. I never
+talked so well in my life, and said so many flattering things to
+the hunchback and his friends, that at last they said that I should
+have my own way; and that if I pleased to go up to London, and
+bring down the painter of Lazarus to paint the mayor, I might; so
+they then bade me farewell, and I have come up to London.'
+
+'To put a hundred pounds into the hands of--'
+
+'A better man than myself,' said my brother, 'of course.'
+
+'And have you come up at your own expense?'
+
+'Yes,' said my brother, 'I have come up at my own expense.'
+
+I made no answer, but looked in my brother's face. We then
+returned to the former subjects of conversation, talking of the
+dead, my mother, and the dog.
+
+After some time my brother said, 'I will now go to the painter, and
+communicate to him the business which has brought me to town; and,
+if you please, I will take you with me and introduce you to him.'
+Having expressed my willingness, we descended into the street.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+
+Painter of the heroic--I'll go!--A modest peep--Who is this?--A
+capital Pharaoh--Disproportionably short--Imaginary picture--
+English figures.
+
+The painter of the heroic resided a great way off, at the western
+end of the town. We had some difficulty in obtaining admission to
+him; a maid-servant, who opened the door, eyeing us somewhat
+suspiciously: it was not until my brother had said that he was a
+friend of the painter that we were permitted to pass the threshold.
+At length we were shown into the studio, where we found the
+painter, with an easel and brush, standing before a huge piece of
+canvas, on which he had lately commenced painting a heroic picture.
+The painter might be about thirty-five years old; he had a clever,
+intelligent countenance, with a sharp gray eye--his hair was dark
+brown, and cut a-la-Rafael, as I was subsequently told, that is,
+there was little before and much behind--he did not wear a neck-
+cloth; but, in its stead, a black riband, so that his neck, which
+was rather fine, was somewhat exposed--he had a broad, muscular
+breast, and I make no doubt that he would have been a very fine
+figure, but unfortunately his legs and thighs were somewhat short.
+He recognised my brother, and appeared glad to see him.
+
+'What brings you to London?' said he.
+
+Whereupon my brother gave him a brief account of his commission.
+At the mention of the hundred pounds, I observed the eyes of the
+painter glisten. 'Really,' said he, when my brother had concluded,
+'it was very kind to think of me. I am not very fond of painting
+portraits; but a mayor is a mayor, and there is something grand in
+that idea of the Norman arch. I'll go; moreover, I am just at this
+moment confoundedly in need of money, and when you knocked at the
+door, I don't mind telling you, I thought it was some dun. I don't
+know how it is, but in the capital they have no taste for the
+heroic, they will scarce look at a heroic picture; I am glad to
+hear that they have better taste in the provinces. I'll go; when
+shall we set off?'
+
+Thereupon it was arranged between the painter and my brother that
+they should depart the next day but one; they then began to talk of
+art. 'I'll stick to the heroic,' said the painter; 'I now and then
+dabble in the comic, but what I do gives me no pleasure, the comic
+is so low; there is nothing like the heroic. I am engaged here on
+a heroic picture,' said he, pointing to the canvas; 'the subject is
+"Pharaoh dismissing Moses from Egypt," after the last plague--the
+death of the first-born; it is not far advanced--that finished
+figure is Moses': they both looked at the canvas, and I, standing
+behind, took a modest peep. The picture, as the painter said, was
+not far advanced, the Pharaoh was merely in outline; my eye was, of
+course, attracted by the finished figure, or rather what the
+painter had called the finished figure; but, as I gazed upon it, it
+appeared to me that there was something defective--something
+unsatisfactory in the figure. I concluded, however, that the
+painter, notwithstanding what he had said, had omitted to give it
+the finishing touch. 'I intend this to be my best picture,' said
+the painter; 'what I want now is a face for Pharaoh; I have long
+been meditating on a face for Pharaoh.' Here, chancing to cast his
+eye upon my countenance, of whom he had scarcely taken any manner
+of notice, he remained with his mouth open for some time. 'Who is
+this?' said he at last. 'Oh, this is my brother, I forgot to
+introduce him.' . . .
+
+We presently afterwards departed; my brother talked much about the
+painter. 'He is a noble fellow,' said my brother; 'but, like many
+other noble fellows, has a great many enemies; he is hated by his
+brethren of the brush--all the land and water scape painters hate
+him--but, above all, the race of portrait-painters, who are ten
+times more numerous than the other two sorts, detest him for his
+heroic tendencies. It will be a kind of triumph to the last, I
+fear, when they hear he has condescended to paint a portrait;
+however, that Norman arch will enable him to escape from their
+malice--that is a capital idea of the watchmaker, that Norman
+arch.'
+
+I spent a happy day with my brother. On the morrow he went again
+to the painter, with whom he dined; I did not go with him. On his
+return he said, 'The painter has been asking a great many questions
+about you, and expressed a wish that you would sit to him as
+Pharaoh; he thinks you would make a capital Pharaoh.' 'I have no
+wish to appear on canvas,' said I; 'moreover he can find much
+better Pharaohs than myself; and, if he wants a real Pharaoh, there
+is a certain Mr. Petulengro.' 'Petulengro?' said my brother; 'a
+strange kind of fellow came up to me some time ago in our town, and
+asked me about you; when I inquired his name, he told me
+Petulengro. No, he will not do, he is too short; by the bye, do
+you not think that figure of Moses is somewhat short?' And then it
+appeared to me that I had thought the figure of Moses somewhat
+short, and I told my brother so. 'Ah!' said my brother.
+
+On the morrow my brother departed with the painter for the old
+town, and there the painter painted the mayor. I did not see the
+picture for a great many years, when, chancing to be at the old
+town, I beheld it.
+
+The original mayor was a mighty, portly man, with a bull's head,
+black hair, body like that of a dray horse, and legs and thighs
+corresponding; a man six foot high at the least. To his bull's
+head, black hair, and body the painter had done justice; there was
+one point, however, in which the portrait did not correspond with
+the original--the legs were disproportionably short, the painter
+having substituted his own legs for those of the mayor, which when
+I perceived I rejoiced that I had not consented to be painted as
+Pharaoh, for, if I had, the chances are that he would have served
+me in exactly a similar way as he had served Moses and the mayor.
+
+Short legs in a heroic picture will never do; and, upon the whole,
+I think the painter's attempt at the heroic in painting the mayor
+of the old town a decided failure. If I am now asked whether the
+picture would have been a heroic one provided the painter had not
+substituted his own legs for those of the mayor--I must say, I am
+afraid not. I have no idea of making heroic pictures out of
+English mayors, even with the assistance of Norman arches; yet I am
+sure that capital pictures might be made out of English mayors, not
+issuing from Norman arches, but rather from the door of the
+'Checquers' or the 'Brewers Three.' The painter in question had
+great comic power, which he scarcely ever cultivated; he would fain
+be a Rafael, which he never could be, when he might have been
+something quite as good--another Hogarth; the only comic piece
+which he ever presented to the world being something little
+inferior to the best of that illustrious master. I have often
+thought what a capital picture might have been made by my brother's
+friend, if, instead of making the mayor issue out of the Norman
+arch, he had painted him moving under the sign of the 'Checquers,'
+or the 'Three Brewers,' with mace--yes, with mace,--the mace
+appears in the picture issuing out of the Norman arch behind the
+mayor,--but likewise with Snap, and with whiffler, quart pot, and
+frying-pan, Billy Blind and Owlenglass, Mr. Petulengro and
+Pakomovna;--then, had he clapped his own legs upon the mayor, or
+any one else in the concourse, what matter? But I repeat that I
+have no hope of making heroic pictures out of English mayors, or,
+indeed, out of English figures in general. England may be a land
+of heroic hearts, but it is not, properly, a land of heroic
+figures, or heroic posture-making. Italy . . . what was I going to
+say about Italy?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+
+No authority whatever--Interference--Wondrous farrago--Brandt and
+Struensee--What a life!--The hearse--Mortal relics--Great poet--
+Fashion and fame--What a difference--Oh, beautiful--Good for
+nothing.
+
+And now once more to my pursuits, to my Lives and Trials. However
+partial at first I might be to these lives and trials, it was not
+long before they became regular trials to me, owing to the whims
+and caprices of the publisher. I had not been long connected with
+him before I discovered that he was wonderfully fond of interfering
+with other people's business--at least with the business of those
+who were under his control. What a life did his unfortunate
+authors lead! He had many in his employ toiling at all kinds of
+subjects--I call them authors because there is something
+respectable in the term author, though they had little authorship
+in, and no authority whatever over, the works on which they were
+engaged. It is true the publisher interfered with some colour of
+reason, the plan of all and every of the works alluded to having
+originated with himself; and, be it observed, many of his plans
+were highly clever and promising, for, as I have already had
+occasion to say, the publisher in many points was a highly clever
+and sagacious person; but he ought to have been contented with
+planning the works originally, and have left to other people the
+task of executing them, instead of which he marred everything by
+his rage for interference. If a book of fairy tales was being
+compiled, he was sure to introduce some of his philosophy,
+explaining the fairy tale by some theory of his own. Was a book of
+anecdotes on hand, it was sure to be half filled with sayings and
+doings of himself during the time that he was common councilman of
+the City of London. Now, however fond the public might be of fairy
+tales, it by no means relished them in conjunction with the
+publisher's philosophy; and however fond of anecdotes in general,
+or even of the publisher in particular--for indeed there were a
+great many anecdotes in circulation about him which the public both
+read and listened to very readily--it took no pleasure in such
+anecdotes as he was disposed to relate about himself. In the
+compilation of my Lives and Trials I was exposed to incredible
+mortification, and ceaseless trouble, from this same rage for
+interference. It is true he could not introduce his philosophy
+into the work, nor was it possible for him to introduce anecdotes
+of himself, having never had the good or evil fortune to be tried
+at the bar; but he was continually introducing--what, under a less
+apathetic government than the one then being, would have infallibly
+subjected him, and perhaps myself, to a trial,--his politics; not
+his Oxford or pseudo politics, but the politics which he really
+entertained, and which were of the most republican and violent
+kind. But this was not all; when about a moiety of the first
+volume had been printed, he materially altered the plan of the
+work; it was no longer to be a collection of mere Newgate lives and
+trials, but of lives and trials of criminals in general, foreign as
+well as domestic. In a little time the work became a wondrous
+farrago, in which Konigsmark the robber figured by the side of Sam
+Lynn, and the Marchioness de Brinvilliers was placed in contact
+with a Chinese outlaw. What gave me the most trouble and annoyance
+was the publisher's remembering some life or trial, foreign or
+domestic, which he wished to be inserted, and which I was forthwith
+to go in quest of and purchase at my own expense: some of those
+lives and trials were by no means easy to find. 'Where is Brandt
+and Struensee?' cries the publisher; 'I am sure I don't know,' I
+replied; whereupon the publisher falls to squealing like one of
+Joey's rats. 'Find me up Brandt and Struensee by next morning, or-
+-' 'Have you found Brandt and Struensee?' cried the publisher, on
+my appearing before him next morning. 'No,' I reply, 'I can hear
+nothing about them'; whereupon the publisher falls to bellowing
+like Joey's bull. By dint of incredible diligence, I at length
+discover the dingy volume containing the lives and trials of the
+celebrated two who had brooded treason dangerous to the state of
+Denmark. I purchase the dingy volume, and bring it in triumph to
+the publisher, the perspiration running down my brow. The
+publisher takes the dingy volume in his hand, he examines it
+attentively, then puts it down; his countenance is calm for a
+moment, almost benign. Another moment and there is a gleam in the
+publisher's sinister eye; he snatches up the paper containing the
+names of the worthies which I have intended shall figure in the
+forthcoming volumes--he glances rapidly over it, and his
+countenance once more assumes a terrific expression. 'How is
+this?' he exclaims; 'I can scarcely believe my eyes--the most
+important life and trial omitted to be found in the whole criminal
+record--what gross, what utter negligence! Where's the life of
+Farmer Patch? where's the trial of Yeoman Patch?'
+
+'What a life! what a dog's life!' I would frequently exclaim, after
+escaping from the presence of the publisher.
+
+One day, after a scene with the publisher similar to that which I
+have described above, I found myself about noon at the bottom of
+Oxford Street, where it forms a right angle with the road which
+leads or did lead to Tottenham Court. Happening to cast my eyes
+around, it suddenly occurred to me that something uncommon was
+expected; people were standing in groups on the pavement--the
+upstair windows of the houses were thronged with faces, especially
+those of women, and many of the shops were partly, and not a few
+entirely, closed. What could be the reason of all this? All at
+once I bethought me that this street of Oxford was no other than
+the far-famed Tyburn way. Oh, oh, thought I, an execution; some
+handsome young robber is about to be executed at the farther end;
+just so, see how earnestly the women are peering; perhaps another
+Harry Simms--Gentleman Harry as they called him--is about to be
+carted along this street to Tyburn tree; but then I remembered that
+Tyburn tree had long since been cut down, and that criminals,
+whether young or old, good-looking or ugly, were executed before
+the big stone gaol, which I had looked at with a kind of shudder
+during my short rambles in the City. What could be the matter?
+just then I heard various voices cry, 'There it comes!' and all
+heads were turned up Oxford Street, down which a hearse was slowly
+coming: nearer and nearer it drew; presently it was just opposite
+the place where I was standing, when, turning to the left, it
+proceeded slowly along Tottenham Road; immediately behind the
+hearse were three or four mourning coaches, full of people, some of
+whom, from the partial glimpse which I caught of them, appeared to
+be foreigners; behind these came a very long train of splendid
+carriages, all of which, without one exception, were empty.
+
+'Whose body is in that hearse?' said I to a dapper-looking
+individual, seemingly a shopkeeper, who stood beside me on the
+pavement, looking at the procession.
+
+'The mortal relics of Lord Byron,' said the dapper-looking
+individual, mouthing his words and smirking--'the illustrious poet,
+which have been just brought from Greece, and are being conveyed to
+the family vault in -shire.'
+
+'An illustrious poet, was he?' said I.
+
+'Beyond all criticism,' said the dapper man; 'all we of the rising
+generation are under incalculable obligation to Byron; I myself, in
+particular, have reason to say so; in all my correspondence my
+style is formed on the Byronic model.'
+
+I looked at the individual for a moment, who smiled and smirked to
+himself applause, and then I turned my eyes upon the hearse
+proceeding slowly up the almost endless street. This man, this
+Byron, had for many years past been the demigod of England, and his
+verses the daily food of those who read, from the peer to the
+draper's assistant; all were admirers, or rather worshippers, of
+Byron, and all doated on his verses; and then I thought of those
+who, with genius as high as his, or higher, had lived and died
+neglected. I thought of Milton abandoned to poverty and blindness;
+of witty and ingenious Butler consigned to the tender mercies of
+bailiffs; and starving Otway: they had lived neglected and
+despised, and, when they died, a few poor mourners only had
+followed them to the grave; but this Byron had been made a half god
+of when living, and now that he was dead he was followed by
+worshipping crowds, and the very sun seemed to come out on purpose
+to grace his funeral. And, indeed, the sun, which for many days
+past had hidden its face in clouds, shone out that morn with
+wonderful brilliancy, flaming upon the black hearse and its tall
+ostrich plumes, the mourning coaches, and the long train of
+aristocratic carriages which followed behind.
+
+'Great poet, sir,' said the dapper-looking man, 'great poet, but
+unhappy.'
+
+Unhappy? yes, I had heard that he had been unhappy; that he had
+roamed about a fevered, distempered man, taking pleasure in
+nothing--that I had heard; but was it true? was he really unhappy?
+was not this unhappiness assumed, with the view of increasing the
+interest which the world took in him? and yet who could say? He
+might be unhappy, and with reason. Was he a real poet after all?
+might he not doubt himself? might he not have a lurking
+consciousness that he was undeserving of the homage which he was
+receiving? that it could not last? that he was rather at the top of
+fashion than of fame? He was a lordling, a glittering, gorgeous
+lordling: and he might have had a consciousness that he owed much
+of his celebrity to being so; he might have felt that he was rather
+at the top of fashion than of fame. Fashion soon changes, thought
+I, eagerly to myself--a time will come, and that speedily, when he
+will be no longer in the fashion; when this idiotic admirer of his,
+who is still grinning at my side, shall have ceased to mould his
+style on Byron's; and this aristocracy, squirearchy, and what not,
+who now send their empty carriages to pay respect to the
+fashionable corpse, shall have transferred their empty worship to
+some other animate or inanimate thing. Well, perhaps after all it
+was better to have been mighty Milton in his poverty and blindness-
+-witty and ingenious Butler consigned to the tender mercies of
+bailiffs, and starving Otway; they might enjoy more real pleasure
+than this lordling; they must have been aware that the world would
+one day do them justice--fame after death is better than the top of
+fashion in life. They have left a fame behind them which shall
+never die, whilst this lordling--a time will come when he will be
+out of fashion and forgotten. And yet I don't know; didn't he
+write Childe Harold and that ode? Yes, he wrote Childe Harold and
+that ode. Then a time will scarcely come when he will be
+forgotten. Lords, squires, and cockneys may pass away, but a time
+will scarcely come when Childe Harold and that ode will be
+forgotten. He was a poet, after all, and he must have known it; a
+real poet, equal to--to--what a destiny! Rank, beauty, fashion,
+immortality,--he could not be unhappy; what a difference in the
+fate of men--I wish I could think he was unhappy . . . .
+
+I turned away.
+
+'Great poet, sir,' said the dapper man, turning away too, 'but
+unhappy--fate of genius, sir; I, too, am frequently unhappy.'
+
+Hurrying down a street to the right, I encountered Francis Ardry.
+
+'What means the multitude yonder?' he demanded.
+
+'They are looking after the hearse which is carrying the remains of
+Byron up Tottenham Road.'
+
+'I have seen the man,' said my friend, as he turned back the way he
+had come, 'so I can dispense with seeing the hearse--I saw the
+living man at Venice--ah, a great poet.'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'a great poet, it must be so, everybody says so--
+what a destiny! What a difference in the fate of men; but 'tis
+said he was unhappy; you have seen him, how did he look?'
+
+'Oh, beautiful!'
+
+'But did he look happy?'
+
+'Why, I can't say he looked very unhappy; I saw him with two . . .
+very fair ladies; but what is it to you whether the man was unhappy
+or not? Come, where shall we go--to Joey's? His hugest bear--'
+
+'Oh, I have had enough of bears, I have just been worried by one.'
+
+'The publisher?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Then come to Joey's, three dogs are to be launched at his bear:
+as they pin him, imagine him to be the publisher.'
+
+'No,' said I, 'I am good for nothing; I think I shall stroll to
+London Bridge.'
+
+'That's too far for me--farewell.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+
+
+London Bridge--Why not?--Every heart has its bitters--Wicked boys--
+Give me my book--Such a fright--Honour bright.
+
+So I went to London Bridge, and again took my station on the spot
+by the booth where I had stood on the former occasion. The booth,
+however, was empty; neither the apple-woman nor her stall was to be
+seen. I looked over the balustrade upon the river; the tide was
+now, as before, rolling beneath the arch with frightful
+impetuosity. As I gazed upon the eddies of the whirlpool, I
+thought within myself how soon human life would become extinct
+there; a plunge, a convulsive flounder, and all would be over.
+When I last stood over that abyss I had felt a kind of impulse--a
+fascination; I had resisted it--I did not plunge into it. At
+present I felt a kind of impulse to plunge; but the impulse was of
+a different kind; it proceeded from a loathing of life, I looked
+wistfully at the eddies--what had I to live for?--what, indeed! I
+thought of Brandt and Struensee, and Yeoman Patch--should I yield
+to the impulse--why not? My eyes were fixed on the eddies. All of
+a sudden I shuddered; I thought I saw heads in the pool; human
+bodies wallowing confusedly; eyes turned up to heaven with hopeless
+horror; was that water or--? Where was the impulse now? I raised
+my eyes from the pool, I looked no more upon it--I looked forward,
+far down the stream in the far distance. 'Ha! what is that? I
+thought I saw a kind of Fata Morgana, green meadows, waving groves,
+a rustic home; but in the far distance--I stared--I stared--a Fata
+Morgana--it was gone. . . . '
+
+I left the balustrade and walked to the farther end of the bridge,
+where I stood for some time contemplating the crowd; I then passed
+over to the other side with an intention of returning home; just
+half-way over the bridge, in a booth immediately opposite to the
+one in which I had formerly beheld her, sat my friend, the old
+apple-woman, huddled up behind her stall.
+
+'Well, mother,' said I, 'how are you?' The old woman lifted her
+head with a startled look.
+
+'Don't you know me?' said I.
+
+'Yes, I think I do. Ah, yes,' said she, as her features beamed
+with recollection, 'I know you, dear; you are the young lad that
+gave me the tanner. Well, child, got anything to sell?'
+
+'Nothing at all,' said I.
+
+'Bad luck?'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'bad enough, and ill usage.'
+
+'Ah, I suppose they caught ye; well, child, never mind, better luck
+next time; I am glad to see you.'
+
+'Thank you,' said I, sitting down on the stone bench; 'I thought
+you had left the bridge--why have you changed your side?'
+
+The old woman shook.
+
+'What is the matter with you,' said I; 'are you ill?'
+
+'No, child, no; only--'
+
+'Only what? Any bad news of your son?'
+
+'No, child, no; nothing about my son. Only low, child--every heart
+has its bitters.'
+
+'That's true,' said I; 'well, I don't want to know your sorrows;
+come, where's the book?'
+
+The apple-woman shook more violently than before, bent herself
+down, and drew her cloak more closely about her than before.
+'Book, child, what book?'
+
+'Why, blessed Mary, to be sure.'
+
+'Oh, that; I ha'n't got it, child--I have lost it, have left it at
+home.'
+
+'Lost it,' said I; 'left it at home--what do you mean? Come, let
+me have it.'
+
+'I ha'n't got it, child.'
+
+'I believe you have got it under your cloak.'
+
+'Don't tell any one, dear; don't--don't,' and the apple-woman burst
+into tears.
+
+'What's the matter with you?' said I, staring at her.
+
+'You want to take my book from me?'
+
+'Not I, I care nothing about it; keep it, if you like, only tell me
+what's the matter?'
+
+'Why, all about that book.'
+
+'The book?'
+
+'Yes, they wanted to take it from me.'
+
+'Who did?'
+
+'Why, some wicked boys. I'll tell you all about it. Eight or ten
+days ago, I sat behind my stall, reading my book; all of a sudden I
+felt it snatched from my hand, up I started, and see three rascals
+of boys grinning at me; one of them held the book in his hand.
+"What book is this?" said he, grinning at it. "What do you want
+with my book?" said I, clutching at it over my stall; "give me my
+book." "What do you want a book for?" said he, holding it back; "I
+have a good mind to fling it into the Thames." "Give me my book,"
+I shrieked; and, snatching at it, I fell over my stall, and all my
+fruit was scattered about. Off ran the boys--off ran the rascal
+with my book. Oh dear, I thought I should have died; up I got,
+however, and ran after them as well as I could; I thought of my
+fruit, but I thought more of my book. I left my fruit and ran
+after my book. "My book! my book!" I shrieked, "murder! theft!
+robbery!" I was near being crushed under the wheels of a cart; but
+I didn't care--I followed the rascals. "Stop them! stop them!" I
+ran nearly as fast as they--they couldn't run very fast on account
+of the crowd. At last some one stopped the rascal, whereupon he
+turned round, and flinging the book at me, it fell into the mud;
+well, I picked it up and kissed it, all muddy as it was. "Has he
+robbed you?" said the man. "Robbed me, indeed; why he had got my
+book." "Oh, your book," said the man, and laughed, and let the
+rascal go. Ah, he might laugh, but--'
+
+'Well, go on.'
+
+'My heart beats so. Well, I went back to my booth and picked up my
+stall and my fruits, what I could find of them. I couldn't keep my
+stall for two days I got such a fright, and when I got round I
+couldn't bide the booth where the thing had happened, so I came
+over to the other side. Oh, the rascals, if I could but see them
+hanged.'
+
+'For what?'
+
+'Why, for stealing my book.'
+
+'I thought you didn't dislike stealing,--that you were ready to buy
+things--there was your son, you know--'
+
+'Yes, to be sure.'
+
+'He took things.'
+
+'To be sure he did.'
+
+'But you don't like a thing of yours to be taken.'
+
+'No, that's quite a different thing; what's stealing handkerchiefs,
+and that kind of thing, to do with taking my book? there's a wide
+difference--don't you see?'
+
+'Yes, I see.'
+
+'Do you, dear? well, bless your heart, I'm glad you do. Would you
+like to look at the book?'
+
+'Well, I think I should.'
+
+'Honour bright?' said the apple-woman, looking me in the eyes.
+
+'Honour bright,' said I, looking the apple-woman in the eyes.
+
+'Well then, dear, here it is,' said she, taking it from under her
+cloak; 'read it as long as you like, only get a little farther into
+the booth-- Don't sit so near the edge--you might--'
+
+I went deep into the booth, and the apple-woman, bringing her chair
+round, almost confronted me. I commenced reading the book, and was
+soon engrossed by it; hours passed away, once or twice I lifted up
+my eyes, the apple-woman was still confronting me: at last my eyes
+began to ache, whereupon I returned the book to the apple-woman,
+and, giving her another tanner, walked away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+
+
+Decease of the Review--Homer himself--Bread and cheese--Finger and
+thumb--Impossible to find--Something grand--Universal mixture--Some
+other publisher.
+
+Time passed away, and with it the Review, which, contrary to the
+publisher's expectation, did not prove a successful speculation.
+About four months after the period of its birth it expired, as all
+Reviews must for which there is no demand. Authors had ceased to
+send their publications to it, and, consequently, to purchase it;
+for I have already hinted that it was almost entirely supported by
+authors of a particular class, who expected to see their
+publications foredoomed to immortality in its pages. The behaviour
+of these authors towards this unfortunate publication I can
+attribute to no other cause than to a report which was
+industriously circulated, namely, that the Review was low, and that
+to be reviewed in it was an infallible sign that one was a low
+person, who could be reviewed nowhere else. So authors took
+fright; and no wonder, for it will never do for an author to be
+considered low. Homer himself has never yet entirely recovered
+from the injury he received by Lord Chesterfield's remark that the
+speeches of his heroes were frequently exceedingly low.
+
+So the Review ceased, and the reviewing corps no longer existed as
+such; they forthwith returned to their proper avocations--the
+editor to compose tunes on his piano, and to the task of disposing
+of the remaining copies of his Quintilian--the inferior members to
+working for the publisher, being to a man dependants of his; one,
+to composing fairy tales; another, to collecting miracles of Popish
+saints; and a third, Newgate lives and trials. Owing to the bad
+success of the Review, the publisher became more furious than ever.
+My money was growing short, and I one day asked him to pay me for
+my labours in the deceased publication.
+
+'Sir,' said the publisher, 'what do you want the money for?'
+
+'Merely to live on,' I replied; 'it is very difficult to live in
+this town without money.'
+
+'How much money did you bring with you to town?' demanded the
+publisher.
+
+'Some twenty or thirty pounds,' I replied.
+
+'And you have spent it already?'
+
+'No,' said I, 'not entirely; but it is fast disappearing.'
+
+'Sir,' said the publisher, 'I believe you to be extravagant; yes,
+sir, extravagant!'
+
+'On what grounds do you suppose me to be so?'
+
+'Sir,' said the publisher, 'you eat meat.'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'I eat meat sometimes; what should I eat?'
+
+'Bread, sir,' said the publisher; 'bread and cheese.'
+
+'So I do, sir, when I am disposed to indulge; but I cannot often
+afford it--it is very expensive to dine on bread and cheese,
+especially when one is fond of cheese, as I am. My last bread and
+cheese dinner cost me fourteenpence. There is drink, sir; with
+bread and cheese one must drink porter, sir.'
+
+'Then, sir, eat bread--bread alone. As good men as yourself have
+eaten bread alone; they have been glad to get it, sir. If with
+bread and cheese you must drink porter, sir, with bread alone you
+can, perhaps, drink water, sir.'
+
+However, I got paid at last for my writings in the Review, not, it
+is true, in the current coin of the realm, but in certain bills;
+there were two of them, one payable at twelve, and the other at
+eighteen months after date. It was a long time before I could turn
+these bills to any account; at last I found a person who, at a
+discount of only thirty per cent, consented to cash them; not,
+however, without sundry grimaces, and, what was still more galling,
+holding, more than once, the unfortunate papers high in air between
+his forefinger and thumb. So ill, indeed, did I like this last
+action, that I felt much inclined to snatch them away. I
+restrained myself, however, for I remembered that it was very
+difficult to live without money, and that, if the present person
+did not discount the bills, I should probably find no one else that
+would.
+
+But if the treatment which I had experienced from the publisher,
+previous to making this demand upon him, was difficult to bear,
+that which I subsequently underwent was far more so: his great
+delight seemed to consist in causing me misery and mortification;
+if, on former occasions, he was continually sending me in quest of
+lives and trials difficult to find, he now was continually
+demanding lives and trials which it was impossible to find; the
+personages whom he mentioned never having lived, nor consequently
+been tried. Moreover, some of my best lives and trials which I had
+corrected and edited with particular care, and on which I prided
+myself no little, he caused to be cancelled after they had passed
+through the press. Amongst these was the life of 'Gentleman
+Harry.' 'They are drugs, sir,' said the publisher, 'drugs; that
+life of Harry Simms has long been the greatest drug in the
+calendar--has it not, Taggart?'
+
+Taggart made no answer save by taking a pinch of snuff. The
+reader, has, I hope, not forgotten Taggart, whom I mentioned whilst
+giving an account of my first morning's visit to the publisher. I
+beg Taggart's pardon for having been so long silent about him; but
+he was a very silent man--yet there was much in Taggart--and
+Taggart had always been civil and kind to me in his peculiar way.
+
+'Well, young gentleman,' said Taggart to me one morning, when we
+chanced to be alone a few days after the affair of the cancelling,
+'how do you like authorship?'
+
+'I scarcely call authorship the drudgery I am engaged in,' said I.
+
+'What do you call authorship?' said Taggart.
+
+'I scarcely know,' said I; 'that is, I can scarcely express what I
+think it.'
+
+'Shall I help you out?' said Taggart, turning round his chair, and
+looking at me.
+
+'If you like,' said I.
+
+'To write something grand,' said Taggart, taking snuff; 'to be
+stared at--lifted on people's shoulders--'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'that is something like it.'
+
+Taggart took snuff. 'Well,' said he, 'why don't you write
+something grand?'
+
+'I have,' said I.
+
+'What?' said Taggart.
+
+'Why,' said I, 'there are those ballads.'
+
+Taggart took snuff.
+
+'And those wonderful versions from Ab Gwilym.'
+
+Taggart took snuff again.
+
+'You seem to be very fond of snuff,' said I, looking at him
+angrily.
+
+Taggart tapped his box.
+
+'Have you taken it long?'
+
+'Three-and-twenty years.'
+
+'What snuff do you take?'
+
+'Universal mixture.'
+
+'And you find it of use?
+
+Taggart tapped his box.
+
+'In what respect?' said I.
+
+'In many--there is nothing like it to get a man through; but for
+snuff I should scarcely be where I am now.'
+
+'Have you been long here?'
+
+'Three-and-twenty years.'
+
+'Dear me,' said I; 'and snuff brought you through? Give me a
+pinch--pah, I don't like it,' and I sneezed.
+
+'Take another pinch,' said Taggart.
+
+'No,' said I, 'I don't like snuff.'
+
+'Then you will never do for authorship; at least for this kind.'
+
+'So I begin to think--what shall I do?'
+
+Taggart took snuff.
+
+'You were talking of a great work--what shall it be?'
+
+Taggart took snuff.
+
+'Do you think I could write one?'
+
+Taggart uplifted his two forefingers as if to tap, he did not
+however.
+
+'It would require time,' said I, with a half sigh.
+
+Taggart tapped his box.
+
+'A great deal of time; I really think that my ballads--'
+
+Taggart took snuff.
+
+'If published, would do me credit. I'll make an effort, and offer
+them to some other publisher.'
+
+Taggart took a double quantity of snuff.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+
+
+Francis Ardry--That won't do, sir--Observe my gestures--I think you
+improve--Better than politics--Delightful young Frenchwoman--A
+burning shame--Magnificent impudence--Paunch--Voltaire--Lump of
+sugar.
+
+Occasionally I called on Francis Ardry. This young gentleman
+resided in handsome apartments in the neighbourhood of a
+fashionable square, kept a livery servant, and, upon the whole,
+lived in very good style. Going to see him one day, between one
+and two, I was informed by the servant that his master was engaged
+for the moment, but that, if I pleased to wait a few minutes, I
+should find him at liberty. Having told the man that I had no
+objection, he conducted me into a small apartment which served as
+antechamber to a drawing-room; the door of this last being half
+open, I could see Francis Ardry at the farther end, speechifying
+and gesticulating in a very impressive manner. The servant, in
+some confusion, was hastening to close the door; but, ere he could
+effect his purpose, Francis Ardry, who had caught a glimpse of me,
+exclaimed, 'Come in--come in by all means'; and then proceeded, as
+before, speechifying and gesticulating. Filled with some surprise,
+I obeyed his summons.
+
+On entering the room I perceived another individual, to whom
+Francis Ardry appeared to be addressing himself; this other was a
+short spare man of about sixty; his hair was of badger gray, and
+his face was covered with wrinkles--without vouchsafing me a look,
+he kept his eye, which was black and lustrous, fixed full on
+Francis Ardry, as if paying the deepest attention to his discourse.
+All of a sudden, however, he cried with a sharp, cracked voice,
+'That won't do, sir; that won't do--more vehemence--your argument
+is at present particularly weak; therefore, more vehemence--you
+must confuse them, stun them, stultify them, sir'; and, at each of
+these injunctions, he struck the back of his right hand sharply
+against the palm of the left. 'Good, sir--good!' he occasionally
+uttered, in the same sharp, cracked tone, as the voice of Francis
+Ardry became more and more vehement. 'Infinitely good!' he
+exclaimed, as Francis Ardry raised his voice to the highest pitch;
+'and now, sir, abate; let the tempest of vehemence decline--
+gradually, sir; not too fast. Good, sir--very good!' as the voice
+of Francis Ardry declined gradually in vehemence. 'And now a
+little pathos, sir--try them with a little pathos. That won't do,
+sir--that won't do,'--as Francis Ardry made an attempt to become
+pathetic,--'that will never pass for pathos--with tones and gesture
+of that description you will never redress the wrongs of your
+country. Now, sir, observe my gestures, and pay attention to the
+tone of my voice, sir.'
+
+Thereupon, making use of nearly the same terms which Francis Ardry
+had employed, the individual in black uttered several sentences in
+tones and with gestures which were intended to express a
+considerable degree of pathos, though it is possible that some
+people would have thought both the one and the other highly
+ludicrous. After a pause, Francis Ardry recommenced imitating the
+tones and the gestures of his monitor in the most admirable manner.
+Before he had proceeded far, however, he burst into a fit of
+laughter, in which I should, perhaps, have joined, provided it were
+ever my wont to laugh. 'Ha, ha!' said the other, good-humouredly,
+'you are laughing at me. Well, well, I merely wished to give you a
+hint; but you saw very well what I meant; upon the whole I think
+you improve. But I must now go, having two other pupils to visit
+before four.'
+
+Then taking from the table a kind of three-cornered hat, and a cane
+headed with amber, he shook Francis Ardry by the hand; and, after
+glancing at me for a moment, made me a half bow, attended with a
+strange grimace, and departed.
+
+'Who is that gentleman?' said I to Francis Ardry, as soon as were
+alone.
+
+'Oh, that is--' said Frank, smiling, 'the gentleman who gives me
+lessons in elocution.'
+
+'And what need have you of elocution?'
+
+'Oh, I merely obey the commands of my guardians,' said Francis,
+'who insist that I should, with the assistance of -, qualify myself
+for Parliament; for which they do me the honour to suppose that I
+have some natural talent. I dare not disobey them; for, at the
+present moment, I have particular reasons for wishing to keep on
+good terms with them.'
+
+'But,' said I, 'you are a Roman Catholic; and I thought that
+persons of your religion were excluded from Parliament?'
+
+'Why, upon that very thing the whole matter hinges; people of our
+religion are determined to be no longer excluded from Parliament,
+but to have a share in the government of the nation. Not that I
+care anything about the matter; I merely obey the will of my
+guardians; my thoughts are fixed on something better than
+politics.'
+
+'I understand you,' said I; 'dog-fighting--well, I can easily
+conceive that to some minds dog-fighting--'
+
+'I was not thinking of dog-fighting,' said Francis Ardry,
+interrupting me.
+
+'Not thinking of dog-fighting!' I ejaculated.
+
+'No,' said Francis Ardry, 'something higher and much more rational
+than dog-fighting at present occupies my thoughts.'
+
+'Dear me,' said I, 'I thought I had heard you say that there was
+nothing like it!'
+
+'Like what?' said Francis Ardry.
+
+'Dog-fighting, to be sure,' said I.
+
+'Pooh,' said Francis Ardry; 'who but the gross and unrefined care
+anything for dog-fighting? That which at present engages my waking
+and sleeping thoughts is love--divine love--there is nothing like
+THAT. Listen to me, I have a secret to confide to you.'
+
+And then Francis Ardry proceeded to make me his confidant. It
+appeared that he had had the good fortune to make the acquaintance
+of the most delightful young Frenchwoman imaginable, Annette La
+Noire by name, who had just arrived from her native country with
+the intention of obtaining the situation of governess in some
+English family; a position which, on account of her many
+accomplishments, she was eminently qualified to fill. Francis
+Ardry had, however, persuaded her to relinquish her intention for
+the present, on the ground that, until she had become acclimated in
+England, her health would probably suffer from the confinement
+inseparable from the occupation in which she was desirous of
+engaging; he had, moreover--for it appeared that she was the most
+frank and confiding creature in the world--succeeded in persuading
+her to permit him to hire for her a very handsome first floor in
+his own neighbourhood, and to accept a few inconsiderable presents
+in money and jewellery. 'I am looking out for a handsome gig and
+horse,' said Francis Ardry, at the conclusion of his narration; 'it
+were a burning shame that so divine a creature should have to go
+about a place like London on foot, or in a paltry hackney coach.'
+
+'But,' said I, 'will not the pursuit of politics prevent your
+devoting much time to this fair lady?'
+
+'It will prevent me devoting all my time,' said Francis Ardry, 'as
+I gladly would; but what can I do? My guardians wish me to qualify
+myself for a political orator, and I dare not offend them by a
+refusal. If I offend my guardians, I should find it impossible--
+unless I have recourse to Jews and money-lenders--to support
+Annette; present her with articles of dress and jewellery, and
+purchase a horse and cabriolet worthy of conveying her angelic
+person through the streets of London.'
+
+After a pause, in which Francis Ardry appeared lost in thought, his
+mind being probably occupied with the subject of Annette, I broke
+silence by observing, 'So your fellow-religionists are really going
+to make a serious attempt to procure their emancipation?'
+
+'Yes,' said Francis Ardry, starting from his reverie; 'everything
+has been arranged; even a leader has been chosen, at least for us
+of Ireland, upon the whole the most suitable man in the world for
+the occasion--a barrister of considerable talent, mighty voice, and
+magnificent impudence. With emancipation, liberty, and redress for
+the wrongs of Ireland in his mouth, he is to force his way into the
+British House of Commons, dragging myself and others behind him--he
+will succeed, and when he is in he will cut a figure; I have heard-
+-himself, who has heard him speak, say that he will cut a figure.'
+
+'And is--competent to judge?' I demanded.
+
+'Who but he?' said Francis Ardry; 'no one questions his judgment
+concerning what relates to elocution. His fame on that point is so
+well established, that the greatest orators do not disdain
+occasionally to consult him; C- himself, as I have been told, when
+anxious to produce any particular effect in the House, is in the
+habit of calling in--for a consultation.'
+
+'As to matter, or manner?' said I.
+
+'Chiefly the latter,' said Francis Ardry, 'though he is competent
+to give advice as to both, for he has been an orator in his day,
+and a leader of the people; though he confessed to me that he was
+not exactly qualified to play the latter part--"I want paunch,"
+said he.'
+
+'It is not always indispensable,' said I; 'there is an orator in my
+town, a hunchback and watchmaker, without it, who not only leads
+the people, but the mayor too; perhaps he has a succedaneum in his
+hunch: but, tell me, is the leader of your movement in possession
+of that which--wants?'
+
+'No more deficient in it than in brass,' said Francis Ardry.
+
+'Well,' said I, 'whatever his qualifications may be, I wish him
+success in the cause which he has taken up--I love religious
+liberty.'
+
+'We shall succeed,' said Francis Ardry; 'John Bull upon the whole
+is rather indifferent on the subject, and then we are sure to be
+backed by the Radical party, who, to gratify their political
+prejudices, would join with Satan himself.'
+
+'There is one thing,' said I, 'connected with this matter which
+surprises me--your own lukewarmness. Yes, making every allowance
+for your natural predilection for dog-fighting, and your present
+enamoured state of mind, your apathy at the commencement of such a
+movement is to me unaccountable.'
+
+'You would not have cause to complain of my indifference,' said
+Frank, 'provided I thought my country would be benefited by this
+movement; but I happen to know the origin of it. The priests are
+the originators, 'and what country was ever benefited by a movement
+which owed its origin to them?' so says Voltaire, a page of whom I
+occasionally read. By the present move they hope to increase their
+influence, and to further certain designs which they entertain both
+with regard to this country and Ireland. I do not speak rashly or
+unadvisedly. A strange fellow--a half-Italian, half-English
+priest,--who was recommended to me by my guardians, partly as a
+spiritual, partly as a temporal guide, has let me into a secret or
+two; he is fond of a glass of gin and water--and over a glass of
+gin and water cold, with a lump of sugar in it, he has been more
+communicative, perhaps, than was altogether prudent. Were I my own
+master, I would kick him, politics, and religious movements, to a
+considerable distance. And now, if you are going away, do so
+quickly; I have an appointment with Annette, and must make myself
+fit to appear before her.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+
+
+Progress--Glorious John--Utterly unintelligible--What a difference.
+
+By the month of October I had, in spite of all difficulties and
+obstacles, accomplished about two-thirds of the principal task
+which I had undertaken, the compiling of the Newgate lives; I had
+also made some progress in translating the publisher's philosophy
+into German. But about this time I began to see very clearly that
+it was impossible that our connection should prove of long
+duration; yet, in the event of my leaving the big man, what other
+resource had I--another publisher? But what had I to offer? There
+were my ballads, my Ab Gwilym, but then I thought of Taggart and
+his snuff, his pinch of snuff. However, I determined to see what
+could be done, so I took my ballads under my arm, and went to
+various publishers; some took snuff, others did not, but none took
+my ballads or Ab Gwilym, they would not even look at them. One
+asked me if I had anything else--he was a snuff-taker--I said yes;
+and going home, returned with my translation of the German novel,
+to which I have before alluded. After keeping it for a fortnight,
+he returned it to me on my visiting him, and, taking a pinch of
+snuff, told me it would not do. There were marks of snuff on the
+outside of the manuscript, which was a roll of paper bound with red
+tape, but there were no marks of snuff on the interior of the
+manuscript, from which I concluded that he had never opened it.
+
+I had often heard of one Glorious John, who lived at the western
+end of the town; on consulting Taggart, he told me that it was
+possible that Glorious John would publish my ballads and Ab Gwilym,
+that is, said he, taking a pinch of snuff, provided you can see
+him; so I went to the house where Glorious John resided, and a
+glorious house it was, but I could not see Glorious John--I called
+a dozen times, but I never could see Glorious John. Twenty years
+after, by the greatest chance in the world, I saw Glorious John,
+and sure enough Glorious John published my books, but they were
+different books from the first; I never offered my ballads or Ab
+Gwilym to Glorious John. Glorious John was no snuff-taker. He
+asked me to dinner, and treated me with superb Rhenish wine.
+Glorious John is now gone to his rest, but I--what was I going to
+say?--the world will never forget Glorious John.
+
+So I returned to my last resource for the time then being--to the
+publisher, persevering doggedly in my labour. One day, on visiting
+the publisher, I found him stamping with fury upon certain
+fragments of paper. 'Sir,' said he, 'you know nothing of German; I
+have shown your translation of the first chapter of my Philosophy
+to several Germans: it is utterly unintelligible to them.' 'Did
+they see the Philosophy?' I replied. 'They did, sir, but they did
+not profess to understand English.' 'No more do I,' I replied,
+'if that Philosophy be English.'
+
+The publisher was furious--I was silent. For want of a pinch of
+snuff, I had recourse to something which is no bad substitute for a
+pinch of snuff, to those who can't take it, silent contempt; at
+first it made the publisher more furious, as perhaps a pinch of
+snuff would; it, however, eventually calmed him, and he ordered me
+back to my occupations, in other words, the compilation. To be
+brief, the compilation was completed, I got paid in the usual
+manner, and forthwith left him.
+
+He was a clever man, but what a difference in clever men!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+
+
+The old spot--A long history--Thou shalt not steal--No harm--
+Education--Necessity--Foam on your lip--Apples and pears--What will
+you read?--Metaphor--The fur cap--I don't know him.
+
+It was past midwinter, and I sat on London Bridge, in company with
+the old apple-woman: she had just returned to the other side of
+the bridge, to her place in the booth where I had originally found
+her. This she had done after frequent conversations with me; 'she
+liked the old place best,' she said, which she would never have
+left but for the terror which she experienced when the boys ran
+away with her book. So I sat with her at the old spot, one
+afternoon past midwinter, reading the book, of which I had by this
+time come to the last pages. I had observed that the old woman for
+some time past had shown much less anxiety about the book than she
+had been in the habit of doing. I was, however, not quite prepared
+for her offering to make me a present of it, which she did that
+afternoon; when, having finished it, I returned it to her, with
+many thanks for the pleasure and instruction I had derived from its
+perusal. 'You may keep it, dear,' said the old woman, with a sigh;
+'you may carry it to your lodging, and keep it for your own.'
+
+Looking at the old woman with surprise, I exclaimed, 'Is it
+possible that you are willing to part with the book which has been
+your source of comfort so long?'
+
+Whereupon the old woman entered into a long history, from which I
+gathered that the book had become distasteful to her; she hardly
+ever opened it of late, she said, or if she did, it was only to
+shut it again; also, that other things which she had been fond of,
+though of a widely different kind, were now distasteful to her.
+Porter and beef-steaks were no longer grateful to her palate, her
+present diet chiefly consisting of tea, and bread and butter.
+
+'Ah,' said I, 'you have been ill, and when people are ill, they
+seldom like the things which give them pleasure when they are in
+health.' I learned, moreover, that she slept little at night, and
+had all kinds of strange thoughts; that as she lay awake many
+things connected with her youth, which she had quite forgotten,
+came into her mind. There were certain words that came into her
+mind the night before the last, which were continually humming in
+her ears: I found that the words were, 'Thou shalt not steal.'
+
+On inquiring where she had first heard these words, I learned that
+she had read them at school, in a book called the primer; to this
+school she had been sent by her mother, who was a poor widow, and
+followed the trade of apple-selling in the very spot where her
+daughter followed it now. It seems that the mother was a very good
+kind of woman, but quite ignorant of letters, the benefit of which
+she was willing to procure for her child; and at the school the
+daughter learned to read, and subsequently experienced the pleasure
+and benefit of letters, in being able to read the book which she
+found in an obscure closet of her mother's house, and which had
+been her principal companion and comfort for many years of her
+life.
+
+But, as I have said before, she was now dissatisfied with the book,
+and with most other things in which she had taken pleasure; she
+dwelt much on the words, 'Thou shalt not steal'; she had never
+stolen things herself, but then she had bought things which other
+people had stolen, and which she knew had been stolen; and her dear
+son had been a thief, which he perhaps would not have been but for
+the example which she set him in buying things from characters, as
+she called them, who associated with her.
+
+On inquiring how she had become acquainted with these characters, I
+learned that times had gone hard with her; that she had married,
+but her husband had died after a long sickness, which had reduced
+them to great distress; that her fruit trade was not a profitable
+one, and that she had bought and sold things which had been stolen
+to support herself and her son. That for a long time she supposed
+there was no harm in doing so, as her book was full of entertaining
+tales of stealing; but she now thought that the book was a bad
+book, and that learning to read was a bad thing; her mother had
+never been able to read, but had died in peace, though poor.
+
+So here was a woman who attributed the vices and follies of her
+life to being able to read; her mother, she said, who could not
+read, lived respectably, and died in peace; and what was the
+essential difference between the mother and daughter, save that the
+latter could read? But for her literature she might in all
+probability have lived respectably and honestly, like her mother,
+and might eventually have died in peace, which at present she could
+scarcely hope to do. Education had failed to produce any good in
+this poor woman; on the contrary, there could be little doubt that
+she had been injured by it. Then was education a bad thing?
+Rousseau was of opinion that it was; but Rousseau was a Frenchman,
+at least wrote in French, and I cared not the snap of my fingers
+for Rousseau. But education has certainly been of benefit in some
+instances; well, what did that prove, but that partiality existed
+in the management of the affairs of the world--if education was a
+benefit to some, why was it not a benefit to others? Could some
+avoid abusing it, any more than others could avoid turning it to a
+profitable account? I did not see how they could; this poor simple
+woman found a book in her mother's closet; a book, which was a
+capital book for those who could turn it to the account for which
+it was intended; a book, from the perusal of which I felt myself
+wiser and better, but which was by no means suited to the intellect
+of this poor simple woman, who thought that it was written in
+praise of thieving; yet she found it, she read it, and--and--I felt
+myself getting into a maze; what is right, thought I? what is
+wrong? Do I exist? Does the world exist? if it does, every action
+is bound up with necessity.
+
+'Necessity!' I exclaimed, and cracked my finger-joints.
+
+'Ah, it is a bad thing,' said the old woman.
+
+'What is a bad thing?' said I.
+
+'Why to be poor, dear.'
+
+'You talk like a fool,' said I, 'riches and poverty are only
+different forms of necessity.'
+
+'You should not call me a fool, dear; you should not call your own
+mother a fool.'
+
+'You are not my mother,' said I.
+
+'Not your mother, dear?--no, no more I am; but your calling me fool
+put me in mind of my dear son, who often used to call me fool--and
+you just now looked as he sometimes did, with a blob of foam on
+your lip.'
+
+'After all, I don't know that you are not my mother.'
+
+'Don't you, dear? I'm glad of it; I wish you would make it out.'
+
+'How should I make it out? who can speak from his own knowledge as
+to the circumstances of his birth? Besides, before attempting to
+establish our relationship, it would be necessary to prove that
+such people exist.'
+
+'What people, dear?'
+
+'You and I.'
+
+'Lord, child, you are mad; that book has made you so.'
+
+'Don't abuse it,' said I; 'the book is an excellent one, that is,
+provided it exists.'
+
+'I wish it did not,' said the old woman; 'but it shan't long; I'll
+burn it, or fling it into the river--the voices at night tell me to
+do so.'
+
+'Tell the voices,' said I, 'that they talk nonsense; the book, if
+it exists, is a good book, it contains a deep moral; have you read
+it all?'
+
+'All the funny parts, dear; all about taking things, and the manner
+it was done; as for the rest, I could not exactly make it out.'
+
+'Then the book is not to blame; I repeat that the book is a good
+book, and contains deep morality, always supposing that there is
+such a thing as morality, which is the same thing as supposing that
+there is anything at all.'
+
+'Anything at all! Why ain't we here on this bridge, in my booth,
+with my stall and my--'
+
+'Apples and pears, baked hot, you would say--I don't know; all is a
+mystery, a deep question. It is a question, and probably always
+will be, whether there is a world, and consequently apples and
+pears; and, provided there be a world, whether that world be like
+an apple or a pear.'
+
+'Don't talk so, dear.'
+
+'I won't; we will suppose that we all exist--world, ourselves,
+apples, and pears: so you wish to get rid of the book?'
+
+'Yes, dear, I wish you would take it.'
+
+'I have read it, and have no farther use for it; I do not need
+books: in a little time, perhaps, I shall not have a place wherein
+to deposit myself, far less books.'
+
+'Then I will fling it into the river.'
+
+'Don't do that; here, give it me. Now what shall I do with it? you
+were so fond of it.'
+
+'I am so no longer.'
+
+'But how will you pass your time; what will you read?'
+
+'I wish I had never learned to read, or, if I had, that I had only
+read the books I saw at school: the primer or the other.'
+
+'What was the other?'
+
+'I think they called it the Bible: all about God, and Job, and
+Jesus.'
+
+'Ah, I know it.'
+
+'You have read it; is it a nice book--all true?'
+
+'True, true--I don't know what to say; but if the world be true,
+and not all a lie, a fiction, I don't see why the Bible, as they
+call it, should not be true. By the bye, what do you call Bible in
+your tongue, or, indeed, book of any kind? as Bible merely means a
+book.'
+
+'What do I call the Bible in my language, dear?'
+
+'Yes, the language of those who bring you things.'
+
+'The language of those who DID, dear; they bring them now no
+longer. They call me fool, as you did, dear, just now; they call
+kissing the Bible, which means taking a false oath, smacking calf-
+skin.'
+
+'That's metaphor,' said I; 'English, but metaphorical; what an odd
+language! So you would like to have a Bible,--shall I buy you
+one?'
+
+'I am poor, dear--no money since I left off the other trade.'
+
+'Well, then, I'll buy you one.'
+
+'No, dear, no; you are poor, and may soon want the money; but if
+you can take me one conveniently on the sly, you know--I think you
+may, for, as it is a good book, I suppose there can be no harm in
+taking it.'
+
+'That will never do,' said I, 'more especially as I should be sure
+to be caught, not having made taking of things my trade; but I'll
+tell you what I'll do--try and exchange this book of yours for a
+Bible; who knows for what great things this same book of yours may
+serve?'
+
+'Well, dear,' said the old woman, 'do as you please; I should like
+to see the--what do you call it?--Bible, and to read it, as you
+seem to think it true.'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'seem; that is the way to express yourself in this
+maze of doubt--I seem to think--these apples and pears seem to be--
+and here seems to be a gentleman who wants to purchase either one
+or the other.'
+
+A person had stopped before the apple-woman's stall, and was
+glancing now at the fruit, now at the old woman and myself; he wore
+a blue mantle, and had a kind of fur cap on his head; he was
+somewhat above the middle stature; his features were keen, but
+rather hard; there was a slight obliquity in his vision. Selecting
+a small apple, he gave the old woman a penny; then, after looking
+at me scrutinisingly for a moment, he moved from the booth in the
+direction of Southwark.
+
+'Do you know who that man is?' said I to the old woman.
+
+'No,' said she, 'except that he is one of my best customers: he
+frequently stops, takes an apple, and gives me a penny; his is the
+only piece of money I have taken this blessed day. I don't know
+him, but he has once or twice sat down in the booth with two
+strange-looking men--Mulattos, or Lascars, I think they call them.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+
+
+Bought and exchanged--Quite empty--A new firm--Bibles--Countenance
+of a lion--Clap of thunder--A truce with this--I have lost it--
+Clearly a right--Goddess of the Mint.
+
+In pursuance of my promise to the old woman, I set about procuring
+her a Bible with all convenient speed, placing the book which she
+had intrusted to me for the purpose of exchange in my pocket. I
+went to several shops, and asked if Bibles were to be had: I found
+that there were plenty. When, however, I informed the people that
+I came to barter, they looked blank, and declined treating with me;
+saying that they did not do business in that way. At last I went
+into a shop over the window of which I saw written, 'Books bought
+and exchanged': there was a smartish young fellow in the shop,
+with black hair and whiskers; 'You exchange?' said I. 'Yes,' said
+he, 'sometimes, but we prefer selling; what book do you want?' 'A
+Bible,' said I. 'Ah,' said he, 'there's a great demand for Bibles
+just now; all kinds of people are become very pious of late,' he
+added, grinning at me; 'I am afraid I can't do business with you,
+more especially as the master is not at home. What book have you
+brought?' Taking the book out of my pocket, I placed it on the
+counter: the young fellow opened the book, and inspecting the
+title-page, burst into a loud laugh. 'What do you laugh for?' said
+I, angrily, and half clenching my fist. 'Laugh!' said the young
+fellow; 'laugh! who could help laughing?' 'I could,' said I; 'I
+see nothing to laugh at; I want to exchange this book for a Bible.'
+'You do?' said the young fellow; 'well, I daresay there are plenty
+who would be willing to exchange, that is, if they dared. I wish
+master were at home; but that would never do, either. Master's a
+family man, the Bibles are not mine, and master being a family man,
+is sharp, and knows all his stock; I'd buy it of you, but, to tell
+you the truth, I am quite empty here,' said he, pointing to his
+pocket, 'so I am afraid we can't deal.'
+
+Whereupon, looking anxiously at the young man, 'What am I to do?'
+said I; 'I really want a Bible.'
+
+'Can't you buy one?' said the young man; 'have you no money?'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'I have some, but I am merely the agent of another;
+I came to exchange, not to buy; what am I to do?'
+
+'I don't know,' said the young man, thoughtfully laying down the
+book on the counter; 'I don't know what you can do; I think you
+will find some difficulty in this bartering job, the trade are
+rather precise.' All at once he laughed louder than before;
+suddenly stopping, however, he put on a very grave look. 'Take my
+advice,' said he; 'there is a firm established in this
+neighbourhood which scarcely sells any books but Bibles; they are
+very rich, and pride themselves on selling their books at the
+lowest possible price; apply to them, who knows but what they will
+exchange with you?'
+
+Thereupon I demanded with some eagerness of the young man the
+direction to the place where he thought it possible that I might
+effect the exchange--which direction the young fellow cheerfully
+gave me, and, as I turned away, had the civility to wish me
+success.
+
+I had no difficulty in finding the house to which the young fellow
+directed me; it was a very large house, situated in a square; and
+upon the side of the house was written in large letters, 'Bibles,
+and other religious books.'
+
+At the door of the house were two or three tumbrils, in the act of
+being loaded with chests, very much resembling tea-chests; one of
+the chests falling down, burst, and out flew, not tea, but various
+books, in a neat, small size, and in neat leather covers; Bibles,
+said I,--Bibles, doubtless. I was not quite right, nor quite
+wrong; picking up one of the books, I looked at it for a moment,
+and found it to be the New Testament. 'Come, young lad,' said a
+man who stood by, in the dress of a porter, 'put that book down, it
+is none of yours; if you want a book, go in and deal for one.'
+
+Deal, thought I, deal,--the man seems to know what I am coming
+about,--and going in, I presently found myself in a very large
+room. Behind a counter two men stood with their backs to a
+splendid fire, warming themselves, for the weather was cold.
+
+Of these men one was dressed in brown, and the other was dressed in
+black; both were tall men--he who was dressed in brown was thin,
+and had a particularly ill-natured countenance; the man dressed in
+black was bulky, his features were noble, but they were those of a
+lion.
+
+'What is your business, young man?' said the precise personage, as
+I stood staring at him and his companion.
+
+'I want a Bible,' said I.
+
+'What price, what size?' said the precise-looking man.
+
+'As to size,' said I, 'I should like to have a large one--that is,
+if you can afford me one--I do not come to buy.'
+
+'Oh, friend,' said the precise-looking man, 'if you come here
+expecting to have a Bible for nothing, you are mistaken--we--'
+
+'I would scorn to have a Bible for nothing,' said I, 'or anything
+else; I came not to beg, but to barter; there is no shame in that,
+especially in a country like this, where all folks barter.'
+
+'Oh, we don't barter,' said the precise man, 'at least Bibles; you
+had better depart.'
+
+'Stay, brother,' said the man with the countenance of a lion, 'let
+us ask a few questions; this may be a very important case; perhaps
+the young man has had convictions.'
+
+'Not I,' I exclaimed, 'I am convinced of nothing, and with regard
+to the Bible--I don't believe--'
+
+'Hey!' said the man with the lion countenance, and there he
+stopped. But with that 'Hey' the walls of the house seemed to
+shake, the windows rattled, and the porter whom I had seen in front
+of the house came running up the steps, and looked into the
+apartment through the glass of the door.
+
+There was silence for about a minute--the same kind of silence
+which succeeds a clap of thunder.
+
+At last the man with the lion countenance, who had kept his eyes
+fixed upon me, said calmly, 'Were you about to say that you don't
+believe in the Bible, young man?'
+
+'No more than in anything else,' said I; 'you were talking of
+convictions--I have no convictions. It is not easy to believe in
+the Bible till one is convinced that there is a Bible.'
+
+'He seems to be insane,' said the prim-looking man; 'we had better
+order the porter to turn him out.'
+
+'I am by no means certain,' said I, 'that the porter could turn me
+out; always provided there is a porter, and this system of ours be
+not a lie, and a dream.'
+
+'Come,' said the lion-looking man, impatiently, 'a truce with this
+nonsense. If the porter cannot turn you out, perhaps some other
+person can; but to the point--you want a Bible?'
+
+'I do,' said I, 'but not for myself; I was sent by another person
+to offer something in exchange for one.'
+
+'And who is that person?'
+
+'A poor old woman, who has had what you call convictions,--heard
+voices, or thought she heard them--I forgot to ask her whether they
+were loud ones.'
+
+'What has she sent to offer in exchange?' said the man, without
+taking any notice of the concluding part of my speech.
+
+'A book,' said I.
+
+'Let me see it.'
+
+'Nay, brother,' said the precise man, 'this will never do; if we
+once adopt the system of barter, we shall have all the holders of
+useless rubbish in the town applying to us.'
+
+'I wish to see what he has brought,' said the other; 'perhaps
+Baxter, or Jewell's Apology, either of which would make a valuable
+addition to our collection. Well, young man, what's the matter
+with you?'
+
+I stood like one petrified; I had put my hand into my pocket--the
+book was gone.
+
+'What's the matter?' repeated the man with the lion countenance, in
+a voice very much resembling thunder.
+
+'I have it not--I have lost it!'
+
+'A pretty story, truly,' said the precise-looking man, 'lost it!
+You had better retire,' said the other.
+
+'How shall I appear before the party who intrusted me with the
+book? She will certainly think that I have purloined it,
+notwithstanding all I can say; nor, indeed, can I blame her,--
+appearances are certainly against me.'
+
+'They are so--you had better retire.'
+
+I moved towards the door. 'Stay, young man, one word more; there
+is only one way of proceeding which would induce me to believe that
+you are sincere.'
+
+'What is that?' said I, stopping and looking at him anxiously.
+
+'The purchase of a Bible.'
+
+'Purchase!' said I, 'purchase! I came not to purchase, but to
+barter; such was my instruction, and how can I barter if I have
+lost the book?'
+
+The other made no answer, and turning away I made for the door; all
+of a sudden I started, and turning round, 'Dear me,' said I, 'it
+has just come into my head, that if the book was lost by my
+negligence, as it must have been, I have clearly a right to make it
+good.'
+
+No answer.
+
+'Yes,' I repeated, 'I have clearly a right to make it good; how
+glad I am! see the effect of a little reflection. I will purchase
+a Bible instantly, that is, if I have not lost--' and with
+considerable agitation I felt in my pocket.
+
+The prim-looking man smiled: 'I suppose,' said he, 'that he has
+lost his money as well as book.'
+
+'No,' said I, 'I have not'; and pulling out my hand I displayed no
+less a sum than three half-crowns.
+
+'Oh, noble goddess of the Mint!' as Dame Charlotta Nordenflycht,
+the Swede, said a hundred and fifty years ago, 'great is thy power;
+how energetically the possession of thee speaks in favour of man's
+character!'
+
+'Only half-a-crown for this Bible?' said I, putting down the money,
+'it is worth three'; and bowing to the man of the noble features, I
+departed with my purchase.
+
+'Queer customer,' said the prim-looking man, as I was about to
+close the door--'don't like him.'
+
+'Why, as to that, I scarcely know what to say,' said he of the
+countenance of a lion.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+
+
+The pickpocket--Strange rencounter--Drag him along--A great
+service--Things of importance--Philological matters--Mother of
+languages--Zhats!
+
+A few days after the occurrence of what is recorded in the last
+chapter, as I was wandering in the City, chance directed my
+footsteps to an alley leading from one narrow street to another in
+the neighbourhood of Cheapside. Just before I reached the mouth of
+the alley, a man in a greatcoat, closely followed by another,
+passed it; and, at the moment in which they were passing, I
+observed the man behind snatch something from the pocket of the
+other; whereupon, darting into the street, I seized the hindermost
+man by the collar, crying at the same time to the other, 'My good
+friend, this person has just picked your pocket.'
+
+The individual whom I addressed, turning round with a start,
+glanced at me, and then at the person whom I held. London is the
+place for strange rencounters. It appeared to me that I recognised
+both individuals--the man whose pocket had been picked and the
+other; the latter now began to struggle violently; 'I have picked
+no one's pocket,' said he. 'Rascal,' said the other, 'you have got
+my pocket-book in your bosom.' 'No, I have not,' said the other;
+and, struggling more violently than before, the pocket-book dropped
+from his bosom upon the ground.
+
+The other was now about to lay hands upon the fellow, who was still
+struggling. 'You had better take up your book,' said I; 'I can
+hold him.' He followed my advice; and, taking up his pocket-book,
+surveyed my prisoner with a ferocious look, occasionally glaring at
+me. Yes, I had seen him before--it was the stranger whom I had
+observed on London Bridge, by the stall of the old apple-woman,
+with the cap and cloak; but, instead of these, he now wore a hat
+and greatcoat. 'Well,' said I, at last, 'what am I to do with this
+gentleman of ours?' nodding to the prisoner, who had now left off
+struggling. 'Shall I let him go?'
+
+'Go!' said the other; 'go! The knave--the rascal; let him go,
+indeed! Not so, he shall go before the Lord Mayor. Bring him
+along.'
+
+'Oh, let me go,' said the other: 'let me go; this is the first
+offence, I assure ye--the first time I ever thought to do anything
+wrong.'
+
+'Hold your tongue,' said I, 'or I shall be angry with you. If I am
+not very much mistaken, you once attempted to cheat me.'
+
+'I never saw you before in all my life,' said the fellow, though
+his countenance seemed to belie his words.
+
+'That is not true,' said I; 'you are the man who attempted to cheat
+me of one-and-ninepence in the coach-yard, on the first morning of
+my arrival in London.'
+
+'I don't doubt it,' said the other; 'a confirmed thief'; and here
+his tones became peculiarly sharp; 'I would fain see him hanged--
+crucified. Drag him along.'
+
+'I am no constable,' said I; 'you have got your pocket-book,--I
+would rather you would bid me let him go.'
+
+'Bid you let him go!' said the other almost furiously, 'I command--
+stay, what was I going to say? I was forgetting myself,' he
+observed more gently; 'but he stole my pocket-book;--if you did but
+know what it contained.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'if it contains anything valuable, be the more
+thankful that you have recovered it; as for the man, I will help
+you to take him where you please; but I wish you would let him go.'
+
+The stranger hesitated, and there was an extraordinary play of
+emotion in his features: he looked ferociously at the pickpocket,
+and, more than once, somewhat suspiciously at myself; at last his
+countenance cleared, and, with a good grace, he said, 'Well, you
+have done me a great service, and you have my consent to let him
+go; but the rascal shall not escape with impunity,' he exclaimed
+suddenly, as I let the man go, and starting forward, before the
+fellow could escape, he struck him a violent blow on the face. The
+man staggered, and had nearly fallen; recovering himself, however,
+he said, 'I tell you what, my fellow; if I ever meet you in this
+street in a dark night, and I have a knife about me, it shall be
+the worse for you; as for you, young man,' said he to me; but,
+observing that the other was making towards him, he left whatever
+he was about to say unfinished, and, taking to his heels, was out
+of sight in a moment.
+
+The stranger and myself walked in the direction of Cheapside, the
+way in which he had been originally proceeding; he was silent for a
+few moments, at length he said, 'You have really done me a great
+service, and I should be ungrateful not to acknowledge it. I am a
+merchant; and a merchant's pocket-book, as you perhaps know,
+contains many things of importance; but, young man,' he exclaimed,
+'I think I have seen you before; I thought so at first, but where I
+cannot exactly say: where was it?' I mentioned London Bridge and
+the old apple-woman. 'Oh,' said he, and smiled, and there was
+something peculiar in his smile, 'I remember now. Do you
+frequently sit on London Bridge?' 'Occasionally,' said I; 'that
+old woman is an old friend of mine.' 'Friend?' said the stranger,
+'I am glad of it, for I shall know where to find you. At present I
+am going to 'Change; time, you know, is precious to a merchant.'
+We were by this time close to Cheapside. 'Farewell,' said he, 'I
+shall not forget this service. I trust we shall soon meet again.'
+He then shook me by the hand and went his way.
+
+The next day, as I was seated beside the old woman in the booth,
+the stranger again made his appearance, and, after a word or two,
+sat down beside me; the old woman was sometimes reading the Bible,
+which she had already had two or three days in her possession, and
+sometimes discoursing with me. Our discourse rolled chiefly on
+philological matters.
+
+'What do you call bread in your language?' said I.
+
+'You mean the language of those who bring me things to buy, or who
+did; for, as I told you before, I shan't buy any more; it's no
+language of mine, dear--they call bread pannam in their language.'
+
+'Pannam!' said I, 'pannam! evidently connected with, if not derived
+from, the Latin panis; even as the word tanner, which signifieth a
+sixpence, is connected with, if not derived from, the Latin tener,
+which is itself connected with, if not derived from, tawno or
+tawner, which, in the language of Mr. Petulengro, signifieth a
+sucking child. Let me see, what is the term for bread in the
+language of Mr. Petulengro? Morro, or manro, as I have sometimes
+heard it called; is there not some connection between these words
+and panis? Yes, I think there is; and I should not wonder if
+morro, manro, and panis were connected, perhaps derived from, the
+same root; but what is that root? I don't know--I wish I did;
+though, perhaps, I should not be the happier. Morro--manro! I
+rather think morro is the oldest form; it is easier to say morro
+than manro. Morro! Irish, aran; Welsh, bara; English, bread. I
+can see a resemblance between all the words, and pannam too; and I
+rather think that the Petulengrian word is the elder. How odd it
+would be if the language of Mr. Petulengro should eventually turn
+out to be the mother of all the languages in the world; yet it is
+certain that there are some languages in which the terms for bread
+have no connection with the word used by Mr. Petulengro,
+notwithstanding that those languages, in many other points, exhibit
+a close affinity to the language of the horse-shoe master: for
+example, bread, in Hebrew, is Laham, which assuredly exhibits
+little similitude to the word used by the aforesaid Petulengro. In
+Armenian it is--'
+
+'Zhats!' said the stranger, starting up. 'By the Patriarch and the
+Three Holy Churches, this is wonderful! How came you to know aught
+of Armenian?'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+
+
+New acquaintance--Wired cases--Bread and wine--Armenian colonies--
+Learning without money--What a language--The tide--Your foible--
+Learning of the Haiks--Old proverb--Pressing invitation.
+
+Just as I was about to reply to the interrogation of my new-formed
+acquaintance, a man with a dusky countenance, probably one of the
+Lascars, or Mulattos, of whom the old woman had spoken, came up and
+whispered to him, and with this man he presently departed, not
+however before he had told me the place of his abode, and requested
+me to visit him.
+
+After the lapse of a few days, I called at the house which he had
+indicated. It was situated in a dark and narrow street, in the
+heart of the City, at no great distance from the Bank. I entered a
+counting-room, in which a solitary clerk, with a foreign look, was
+writing. The stranger was not at home; returning the next day,
+however, I met him at the door as he was about to enter; he shook
+me warmly by the hand. 'I am glad to see you,' said he, 'follow
+me, I was just thinking of you.' He led me through the counting-
+room, to an apartment up a flight of stairs; before ascending,
+however, he looked into the book in which the foreign-visaged clerk
+was writing, and, seemingly not satisfied with the manner in which
+he was executing his task, he gave him two or three cuffs, telling
+him at the same time that he deserved crucifixion.
+
+The apartment above stairs, to which he led me, was large, with
+three windows, which opened upon the street. The walls were hung
+with wired cases, apparently containing books. There was a table
+and two or three chairs; but the principal article of furniture was
+a long sofa, extending from the door by which we entered to the
+farther end of the apartment. Seating himself upon the sofa, my
+new acquaintance motioned to me to sit beside him, and then,
+looking me full in the face, repeated his former inquiry. 'In the
+name of all that is wonderful, how came you to know aught of my
+language?'
+
+'There is nothing wonderful in that,' said I; 'we are at the
+commencement of a philological age, every one studies languages;
+that is, every one who is fit for nothing else; philology being the
+last resource of dulness and ennui, I have got a little in advance
+of the throng, by mastering the Armenian alphabet; but I foresee
+the time when every unmarriageable miss, and desperate blockhead,
+will likewise have acquired the letters of Mesroub, and will know
+the term for bread, in Armenian, and perhaps that for wine.'
+
+'Kini,' said my companion; and that and the other word put me in
+mind of the duties of hospitality. 'Will you eat bread and drink
+wine with me?'
+
+'Willingly,' said I. Whereupon my companion, unlocking a closet,
+produced, on a silver salver, a loaf of bread, with a silver-
+handled knife, and wine in a silver flask, with cups of the same
+metal. ' I hope you like my fare,' said he, after we had both
+eaten and drunk.
+
+'I like your bread,' said I, 'for it is stale; I like not your
+wine, it is sweet, and I hate sweet wine.'
+
+'It is wine of Cyprus,' said my entertainer; and, when I found that
+it was wine of Cyprus, I tasted it again, and the second taste
+pleased me much better than the first, notwithstanding that I still
+thought it somewhat sweet. 'So,' said I, after a pause, looking at
+my companion, 'you are an Armenian.'
+
+'Yes,' said he, 'an Armenian born in London, but not less an
+Armenian on that account. My father was a native of Ispahan, one
+of the celebrated Armenian colony which was established there
+shortly after the time of the dreadful hunger, which drove the
+children of Haik in swarms from their original country, and
+scattered them over most parts of the eastern and western world.
+In Ispahan he passed the greater portion of his life, following
+mercantile pursuits with considerable success. Certain enemies,
+however, having accused him to the despot of the place, of using
+seditious language, he was compelled to flee, leaving most of his
+property behind. Travelling in the direction of the west, he came
+at last to London, where he established himself, and where he
+eventually died, leaving behind a large property and myself, his
+only child, the fruit of a marriage with an Armenian Englishwoman,
+who did not survive my birth more than three months.'
+
+The Armenian then proceeded to tell me that he had carried on the
+business of his father, which seemed to embrace most matters, from
+buying silks of Lascars, to speculating in the funds, and that he
+had considerably increased the property which his father had left
+him. He candidly confessed that he was wonderfully fond of gold,
+and said there was nothing like it for giving a person
+respectability and consideration in the world: to which assertion
+I made no answer, being not exactly prepared to contradict it.
+
+And, when he had related to me his history, he expressed a desire
+to know something more of myself, whereupon I gave him the outline
+of my history, concluding with saying, 'I am now a poor author, or
+rather philologist, upon the streets of London, possessed of many
+tongues, which I find of no use in the world.'
+
+'Learning without money is anything but desirable,' said the
+Armenian, 'as it unfits a man for humble occupations. It is true
+that it may occasionally beget him friends; I confess to you that
+your understanding something of my language weighs more with me
+than the service you rendered me in rescuing my pocket-book the
+other day from the claws of that scoundrel whom I yet hope to see
+hanged, if not crucified, notwithstanding there were in that
+pocket-book papers and documents of considerable value. Yes, that
+circumstance makes my heart warm towards you, for I am proud of my
+language--as I indeed well may be--what a language, noble and
+energetic! quite original, differing from all others both in words
+and structure.'
+
+'You are mistaken,' said I; 'many languages resemble the Armenian
+both in structure and words.'
+
+'For example?' said the Armenian.
+
+'For example,' said I, 'the English.'
+
+'The English!' said the Armenian; 'show me one word in which the
+English resembles the Armenian.'
+
+'You walk on London Bridge,' said I.
+
+'Yes,' said the Armenian.
+
+'I saw you look over the balustrade the other morning.'
+
+'True,' said the Armenian.
+
+'Well, what did you see rushing up through the arches with noise
+and foam?'
+
+'What was it?' said the Armenian. 'What was it?--you don't mean
+the TIDE?'
+
+'Do I not?' said I.
+
+'Well, what has the tide to do with the matter?'
+
+'Much,' said I; 'what is the tide?'
+
+'The ebb and flow of the sea,' said the Armenian.
+
+'The sea itself; what is the Haik word for sea?'
+
+The Armenian gave a strong gasp; then, nodding his head thrice,
+'You are right,' said he, 'the English word tide is the Armenian
+for sea; and now I begin to perceive that there are many English
+words which are Armenian; there is--and -; and there again in
+French, there is--and--derived from the Armenian. How strange, how
+singular--I thank you. It is a proud thing to see that the
+language of my race has had so much influence over the languages of
+the world.'
+
+I saw that all that related to his race was the weak point of the
+Armenian. I did not flatter the Armenian with respect to his race
+or language. 'An inconsiderable people,' said I, 'shrewd and
+industrious, but still an inconsiderable people. A language bold
+and expressive, and of some antiquity, derived, though perhaps not
+immediately, from some much older tongue. I do not think that the
+Armenian has had any influence over the formation of the languages
+of the world, I am not much indebted to the Armenian for the
+solution of any doubts; whereas to the language of Mr. Petulengro--
+'
+
+'I have heard you mention that name before,' said the Armenian;
+'who is Mr. Petulengro?'
+
+And then I told the Armenian who Mr. Petulengro was. The Armenian
+spoke contemptuously of Mr. Petulengro and his race. 'Don't speak
+contemptuously of Mr. Petulengro,' said I, 'nor of anything
+belonging to him. He is a dark mysterious personage; all connected
+with him is a mystery, especially his language; but I believe that
+his language is doomed to solve a great philological problem--Mr.
+Petulengo--'
+
+'You appear agitated,' said the Armenian; 'take another glass of
+wine; you possess a great deal of philological knowledge, but it
+appears to me that the language of this Petulengro is your foible:
+but let us change the subject; I feel much interested in you, and
+would fain be of service to you. Can you cast accounts?'
+
+I shook my head.
+
+'Keep books?'
+
+'I have an idea that I could write books,' said I; 'but, as to
+keeping them--' and here again I shook my head.
+
+The Armenian was silent some time; all at once, glancing at one of
+the wire cases, with which, as I have already said, the walls of
+the room were hung, he asked me if I was well acquainted with the
+learning of the Haiks. 'The books in these cases,' said he,
+'contain the masterpieces of Haik learning.'
+
+'No,' said I; 'all I know of the learning of the Haiks is their
+translation of the Bible.'
+
+'You have never read Z-?'
+
+'No,' said I, 'I have never read Z-.'
+
+'I have a plan,' said the Armenian; 'I think I can employ you
+agreeably and profitably; I should like to see Z- in an English
+dress; you shall translate Z- If you can read the Scriptures in
+Armenian, you can translate Z-. He is our Esop, the most acute and
+clever of all our moral writers--his philosophy--'
+
+'I will have nothing to do with him,' said I.
+
+'Wherefore?' said the Armenian.
+
+'There is an old proverb,' said I, '"that a burnt child avoids the
+fire." I have burnt my hands sufficiently with attempting to
+translate philosophy, to make me cautious of venturing upon it
+again'; and then I told the Armenian how I had been persuaded by
+the publisher to translate his philosophy into German, and what
+sorry thanks I had received; 'And who knows,' said I, 'but the
+attempt to translate Armenian philosophy into English might he
+attended with yet more disagreeable consequences?'
+
+The Armenian smiled. 'You would find me very different from the
+publisher.'
+
+'In many points I have no doubt I should,' I replied; 'but at the
+present moment I feel like a bird which has escaped from a cage,
+and, though hungry, feels no disposition to return. Of what nation
+is the dark man below stairs, whom I saw writing at the desk?'
+
+'He is a Moldave,' said the Armenian; 'the dog (and here his eyes
+sparkled) deserves to be crucified, he is continually making
+mistakes.'
+
+The Armenian again renewed his proposition about Z-, which I again
+refused, as I felt but little inclination to place myself beneath
+the jurisdiction of a person who was in the habit of cuffing those
+whom he employed, when they made mistakes. I presently took my
+departure; not, however, before I had received from the Armenian a
+pressing invitation to call upon him whenever I should feel
+disposed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+
+
+What to do--Strong enough--Fame and profit--Alliterative euphony--
+Excellent fellow--Listen to me--A plan--Bagnigge Wells.
+
+Anxious thoughts frequently disturbed me at this time with respect
+to what I was to do, and how support myself in the Great City. My
+future prospects were gloomy enough, and I looked forward and
+feared; sometimes I felt half disposed to accept the offer of the
+Armenian, and to commence forthwith, under his superintendence, the
+translation of the Haik Esop; but the remembrance of the cuffs
+which I had seen him bestow upon the Moldavian, when glancing over
+his shoulder into the ledger or whatever it was on which he was
+employed, immediately drove the inclination from my mind. I could
+not support the idea of the possibility of his staring over my
+shoulder upon my translation of the Haik Esop, and, dissatisfied
+with my attempts, treating me as he had treated the Moldavian
+clerk; placing myself in a position which exposed me to such
+treatment would indeed be plunging into the fire after escaping
+from the frying-pan. The publisher, insolent and overbearing as he
+was, whatever he might have wished or thought, had never lifted his
+hand against me, or told me that I merited crucifixion.
+
+What was I to do? turn porter? I was strong; but there was
+something besides strength required to ply the trade of a porter--a
+mind of a particularly phlegmatic temperament, which I did not
+possess. What should I do? enlist as a soldier? I was tall enough;
+but something besides height is required to make a man play with
+credit the part of soldier, I mean a private one--a spirit, if
+spirit it can be called, which will not only enable a man to submit
+with patience to insolence and abuse, and even to cuffs and kicks,
+but occasionally to the lash. I felt that I was not qualified to
+be a soldier, at least a private one; far better be a drudge to the
+most ferocious of publishers, editing Newgate lives, and writing in
+eighteenpenny reviews--better to translate the Haik Esop, under the
+superintendence of ten Armenians, than be a private soldier in the
+English service; I did not decide rashly--I knew something of
+soldiering. What should I do? I thought that I would make a last
+and desperate attempt to dispose of the ballads and of Ab Gwilym.
+
+I had still an idea that, provided I could persuade any spirited
+publisher to give these translations to the world, I should acquire
+both considerable fame and profit; not, perhaps, a world-embracing
+fame such as Byron's; but a fame not to be sneered at, which would
+last me a considerable time, and would keep my heart from
+breaking;--profit, not equal to that which Scott had made by his
+wondrous novels, but which would prevent me from starving, and
+enable me to achieve some other literary enterprise. I read and
+re-read my ballads, and the more I read them the more I was
+convinced that the public, in the event of their being published,
+would freely purchase, and hail them with the merited applause.
+Were not the deeds and adventures wonderful and heart-stirring--
+from which it is true I could claim no merit, being but the
+translator; but had I not rendered them into English, with all
+their original fire? Yes, I was confident I had; and I had no
+doubt that the public would say so. And then, with respect to Ab
+Gwilym, had I not done as much justice to him as to the Danish
+ballads; not only rendering faithfully his thoughts, imagery, and
+phraseology, but even preserving in my translation the alliterative
+euphony which constitutes one of the most remarkable features of
+Welsh prosody? Yes, I had accomplished all this; and I doubted not
+that the public would receive my translations from Ab Gwilym with
+quite as much eagerness as my version of the Danish ballads. But I
+found the publishers as intractable as ever, and to this day the
+public has never had an opportunity of doing justice to the glowing
+fire of my ballad versification, and the alliterative euphony of my
+imitations of Ab Gwilym.
+
+I had not seen Francis Ardry since the day I had seen him taking
+lessons in elocution. One afternoon as I was seated at my table,
+my head resting on my hands, he entered my apartment; sitting down,
+he inquired of me why I had not been to see him.
+
+'I might ask the same question of you,' I replied. 'Wherefore have
+you not been to see me?' Whereupon Francis Ardry told me that he
+had been much engaged in his oratorical exercises, also in
+escorting the young Frenchwoman about to places of public
+amusement; he then again questioned me as to the reason of my not
+having been to see him.
+
+I returned an evasive answer. The truth was, that for some time
+past my appearance, owing to the state of my finances, had been
+rather shabby; and I did not wish to expose a fashionable young man
+like Francis Ardry, who lived in a fashionable neighbourhood, to
+the imputation of having a shabby acquaintance. I was aware that
+Francis Ardry was an excellent fellow; but, on that very account, I
+felt, under existing circumstances, a delicacy in visiting him.
+
+It is very possible that he had an inkling of how matters stood, as
+he presently began to talk of my affairs and prospects. I told him
+of my late ill success with the booksellers, and inveighed against
+their blindness to their own interest in refusing to publish my
+translations. 'The last that I addressed myself to,' said I, 'told
+me not to trouble him again unless I could bring him a decent novel
+or a tale.'
+
+'Well,' said Frank, 'and why did you not carry him a decent novel
+or a tale?'
+
+'Because I have neither,' said I; 'and to write them is, I believe,
+above my capacity. At present I feel divested of all energy--
+heartless, and almost hopeless.'
+
+'I see how it is,' said Francis Ardry, 'you have overworked
+yourself, and, worst of all, to no purpose. Take my advice; cast
+all care aside, and only think of diverting yourself for a month at
+least.'
+
+'Divert myself!' said I; 'and where am I to find the means?'
+
+'Be that care on my shoulders,' said Francis Ardry. 'Listen to me-
+-my uncles have been so delighted with the favourable accounts
+which they have lately received from T- of my progress in oratory,
+that, in the warmth of their hearts, they made me a present
+yesterday of two hundred pounds. This is more money than I want,
+at least for the present; do me the favour to take half of it as a
+loan--hear me,' said he, observing that I was about to interrupt
+him; 'I have a plan in my head--one of the prettiest in the world.
+The sister of my charmer is just arrived from France; she cannot
+speak a word of English; and, as Annette and myself are much
+engaged in our own matters, we cannot pay her the attention which
+we should wish, and which she deserves, for she is a truly
+fascinating creature, although somewhat differing from my charmer,
+having blue eyes and flaxen hair; whilst, Annette, on the contrary-
+-But I hope you will shortly see Annette. Now, my plan is this--
+Take the money, dress yourself fashionably, and conduct Annette's
+sister to Bagnigge Wells.'
+
+'And what should we do at Bagnigge Wells?'
+
+'Do!' said Francis Ardry. 'Dance!'
+
+'But,' said I, 'I scarcely know anything of dancing.'
+
+'Then here's an excellent opportunity of improving yourself. Like
+most Frenchwomen, she dances divinely; however, if you object to
+Bagnigge Wells and dancing, go to Brighton, and remain there a
+month or two, at the end of which time you can return with your
+mind refreshed and invigorated, and materials, perhaps, for a tale
+or novel.'
+
+'I never heard a more foolish, plan,' said I, 'or one less likely
+to terminate profitably or satisfactorily. I thank you, however,
+for your offer, which is, I daresay, well meant. If I am to escape
+from my cares and troubles, and find my mind refreshed and
+invigorated, I must adopt other means than conducting a French
+demoiselle to Brighton or Bagnigge Wells, defraying the expense by
+borrowing from a friend.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX
+
+
+
+Singular personage--A large sum--Papa of Rome--We are Christians--
+Degenerate Armenians--Roots of Ararat--Regular features.
+
+The Armenian! I frequently saw this individual, availing myself of
+the permission which he had given me to call upon him. A truly
+singular personage was he, with his love of amassing money, and his
+nationality so strong as to be akin to poetry. Many an Armenian I
+have subsequently known fond of money-getting, and not destitute of
+national spirit; but never another, who, in the midst of his
+schemes of lucre, was at all times willing to enter into a
+conversation on the structure of the Haik language, or who ever
+offered me money to render into English the fables of Z- in the
+hope of astonishing the stock-jobbers of the Exchange with the
+wisdom of the Haik Esop.
+
+But he was fond of money, very fond. Within a little time I had
+won his confidence to such a degree that he informed me that the
+grand wish of his heart was to be possessed of two hundred thousand
+pounds.
+
+'I think you might satisfy yourself with the half,' said I. 'One
+hundred thousand pounds is a large sum.'
+
+'You are mistaken,' said the Armenian, 'a hundred thousand pounds
+is nothing. My father left me that or more at his death. No, I
+shall never be satisfied with less than two.'
+
+'And what will you do with your riches,' said I, 'when you have
+obtained them? Will you sit down and muse upon them, or will you
+deposit them in a cellar, and go down once a day to stare at them?
+I have heard say that the fulfilment of one's wishes is invariably
+the precursor of extreme misery, and forsooth I can scarcely
+conceive a more horrible state of existence than to be without a
+hope or wish.'
+
+'It is bad enough, I daresay,' said the Armenian; 'it will,
+however, be time enough to think of disposing of the money when I
+have procured it. I still fall short by a vast sum of the two
+hundred thousand pounds.'
+
+I had occasionally much conversation with him on the state and
+prospects of his nation, especially of that part of it which still
+continued in the original country of the Haiks--Ararat and its
+confines, which, it appeared, he had frequently visited. He
+informed me that since the death of the last Haik monarch, which
+occurred in the eleventh century, Armenia had been governed both
+temporally and spiritually by certain personages called patriarchs;
+their temporal authority, however, was much circumscribed by the
+Persian and Turk, especially the former, of whom the Armenian spoke
+with much hatred, whilst their spiritual authority had at various
+times been considerably undermined by the emissaries of the Papa of
+Rome, as the Armenian called him.
+
+'The Papa of Rome sent his emissaries at an early period amongst
+us,' said the Armenian, 'seducing the minds of weak-headed people,
+persuading them that the hillocks of Rome are higher than the
+ridges of Ararat; that the Roman Papa has more to say in heaven
+than the Armenian patriarch, and that puny Latin is a better
+language than nervous and sonorous Haik.'
+
+'They are both dialects,' said I, 'of the language of Mr.
+Petulengro, one of whose race I believe to have been the original
+founder of Rome; but, with respect to religion, what are the chief
+points of your faith? you are Christians, I believe.'
+
+'Yes,' said the Armenian, 'we are Christians in our way; we believe
+in God, the Holy Spirit, and Saviour, though we are not prepared to
+admit that the last personage is not only himself, but the other
+two. We believe . . .' and then the Armenian told me of several
+things which the Haiks believed or disbelieved. 'But what we find
+most hard of all to believe,' said he, 'is that the man of the
+mole-hills is entitled to our allegiance, he not being a Haik, or
+understanding the Haik language.'
+
+'But, by your own confession,' said I, 'he has introduced a schism
+in your nation, and has amongst you many that believe in him.'
+
+'It is true,' said the Armenian, I that even on the confines of
+Ararat there are a great number who consider that mountain to be
+lower than the hillocks of Rome; but the greater number of
+degenerate Armenians are to be found amongst those who have
+wandered to the west; most of the Haik churches of the west
+consider Rome to be higher than Ararat--most of the Armenians of
+this place hold that dogma; I, however, have always stood firm in
+the contrary opinion.
+
+'Ha! ha!'--here the Armenian laughed in his peculiar manner--
+'talking of this matter puts me in mind of an adventure which
+lately befell me, with one of the emissaries of the Papa of Rome,
+for the Papa of Rome has at present many emissaries in this
+country, in order to seduce the people from their own quiet
+religion to the savage heresy of Rome; this fellow came to me
+partly in the hope of converting me, but principally to extort
+money for the purpose of furthering the designs of Rome in this
+country. I humoured the fellow at first, keeping him in play for
+nearly a month, deceiving and laughing at him. At last he
+discovered that he could make nothing of me, and departed with the
+scowl of Caiaphas, whilst I cried after him, 'The roots of Ararat
+are DEEPER than those of Rome.'
+
+The Armenian had occasionally reverted to the subject of the
+translation of the Haik Esop, which he had still a lurking desire
+that I should execute; but I had invariably declined the
+undertaking, without, however, stating my reasons. On one
+occasion, when we had been conversing on the subject, the Armenian,
+who had been observing my countenance for some time with much
+attention, remarked, 'Perhaps, after all, you are right, and you
+might employ your time to better advantage. Literature is a fine
+thing, especially Haik literature, but neither that nor any other
+would be likely to serve as a foundation to a man's fortune: and
+to make a fortune should be the principal aim of every one's life;
+therefore listen to me. Accept a seat at the desk opposite to my
+Moldavian clerk, and receive the rudiments of a merchant's
+education. You shall be instructed in the Armenian way of doing
+business--I think you would make an excellent merchant.'
+
+'Why do you think so?'
+
+'Because you have something of the Armenian look.'
+
+'I understand you,' said I; 'you mean to say that I squint!'
+
+'Not exactly,' said the Armenian, 'but there is certainly a kind of
+irregularity in your features. One eye appears to me larger than
+the other--never mind, but rather rejoice; in that irregularity
+consists your strength. All people with regular features are
+fools; it is very hard for them, you'll say, but there is no help:
+all we can do, who are not in such a predicament, is to pity those
+who are. Well! will you accept my offer? No! you are a singular
+individual; but I must not forget my own concerns. I must now go
+forth, having an appointment by which I hope to make money.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L
+
+
+
+Wish fulfilled--Extraordinary figure--Bueno--Noah--The two faces--I
+don't blame him--Too fond of money--Were I an Armenian.
+
+The fulfilment of the Armenian's grand wish was nearer at hand than
+either he or I had anticipated. Partly owing to the success of a
+bold speculation, in which he had some time previously engaged, and
+partly owing to the bequest of a large sum of money by one of his
+nation who died at this period in Paris, he found himself in the
+possession of a fortune somewhat exceeding two hundred thousand
+pounds; this fact he communicated to me one evening about an hour
+after the close of 'Change; the hour at which I generally called,
+and at which I mostly found him at home.
+
+'Well,' said I, 'and what do you intend to do next?'
+
+'I scarcely know,' said the Armenian. 'I was thinking of that when
+you came in. I don't see anything that I can do, save going on in
+my former course. After all, I was perhaps too moderate in making
+the possession of two hundred thousand pounds the summit of my
+ambition; there are many individuals in this town who possess three
+times that sum, and are not yet satisfied. No, I think I can do no
+better than pursue the old career; who knows but I may make the two
+hundred thousand three or four?--there is already a surplus, which
+is an encouragement; however, we will consider the matter over a
+goblet of wine; I have observed of late that you have become
+partial to my Cyprus.'
+
+And it came to pass that, as we were seated over the Cyprus wine,
+we heard a knock at the door. 'Adelante!' cried the Armenian;
+whereupon the door opened, and in walked a somewhat extraordinary
+figure--a man in a long loose tunic of a stuff striped with black
+and yellow; breeches of plush velvet, silk stockings, and shoes
+with silver buckles. On his head he wore a high-peaked hat; he was
+tall, had a hooked nose, and in age was about fifty.
+
+'Welcome, Rabbi Manasseh,' said the Armenian. 'I know your knock--
+you are welcome; sit down.'
+
+'I am welcome,' said Manasseh, sitting down; 'he--he--he! you know
+my knock--I bring you money--bueno!'
+
+There was something very peculiar in the sound of that bueno--I
+never forgot it.
+
+Thereupon a conversation ensued between Rabbi Manasseh and the
+Armenian, in a language which I knew to be Spanish, though a
+peculiar dialect. It related to a mercantile transaction. The
+Rabbi sighed heavily as he delivered to the other a considerable
+sum of money.
+
+'It is right,' said the Armenian, handing a receipt. 'It is right;
+and I am quite satisfied.'
+
+'You are satisfied--you have taken money. Bueno, I have nothing to
+say against your being satisfied.'
+
+'Come, Rabbi,' said the Armenian, 'do not despond; it may be your
+turn next to take money; in the meantime, can't you be persuaded to
+taste my Cyprus?'
+
+'He--he--he! senor, you know I do not love wine. I love Noah when
+he is himself; but, as Janus, I love him not. But you are merry;
+bueno, you have a right to be so.'
+
+'Excuse me,' said I; 'but does Noah ever appear as Janus?'
+
+'He--he--he!' said the Rabbi, 'he only appeared as Janus once--una
+vez quando estuvo borracho; which means--'
+
+'I understand,' said I; 'when he was . . .' and I drew the side of
+my right hand sharply across my left wrist.
+
+'Are you one of our people?' said the Rabbi.
+
+'No,' said I, 'I am one of the Goyim; but I am only half
+enlightened. Why should Noah be Janus when he was in that state?'
+
+'He--he--he! you must know that in Lasan akhades wine is janin.'
+
+'In Armenian, kini,' said I; 'in Welsh, gwin; Latin, vinum; but do
+you think that Janus and janin are one?'
+
+'Do I think? Don't the commentators say so? Does not Master Leo
+Abarbenel say so in his Dialogues of Divine Love'?
+
+'But,' said I, 'I always thought that Janus was a god of the
+ancient Romans, who stood in a temple open in time of war, and shut
+in time of peace; he was represented with two faces, which--which--
+'
+
+'He--he--he!' said the Rabbi, rising from his seat; 'he had two
+faces, had he? And what did those two faces typify? You do not
+know; no, nor did the Romans who carved him with two faces know why
+they did so; for they were only half enlightened, like you and the
+rest of the Goyim. Yet they were right in carving him with two
+faces looking from each other--they were right, though they knew
+not why; there was a tradition among them that the Janinoso had two
+faces, but they knew not that one was for the world which was gone
+and the other for the world before him--for the drowned world and
+for the present, as Master Leo Abarbenel says in his Dialogues of
+Divine Love. He--he--he!' continued the Rabbi, who had by this
+time advanced to the door, and, turning round, waved the two
+forefingers of his right hand in our faces; 'the Goyims and
+Epicouraiyim are clever men, they know how to make money better
+than we of Israel. My good friend there is a clever man, I bring
+him money, he never brought me any; bueno, I do not blame him, he
+knows much, very much; but one thing there is my friend does not
+know, nor any of the Epicureans, he does not know the sacred thing-
+-he has never received the gift of interpretation which God alone
+gives to the seed--he has his gift, I have mine--he is satisfied, I
+don't blame him, bueno.'
+
+And, with this last word in his mouth, he departed.
+
+'Is that man a native of Spain?' I demanded.
+
+'Not a native of Spain,' said the Armenian, 'though he is one of
+those who call themselves Spanish Jews, and who are to be found
+scattered throughout Europe, speaking the Spanish language
+transmitted to them by their ancestors, who were expelled from
+Spain in the time of Ferdinand and Isabella.'
+
+'The Jews are a singular people,' said I.
+
+'A race of cowards and dastards,' said the Armenian, 'without a
+home or country; servants to servants; persecuted and despised by
+all.'
+
+'And what are the Haiks?' I demanded.
+
+'Very different from the Jews,' replied the Armenian; 'the Haiks
+have a home--a country, and can occasionally use a good sword;
+though it is true they are not what they might be.'
+
+'Then it is a shame that they do not become so,' said I; 'but they
+are too fond of money. There is yourself, with two hundred
+thousand pounds in your pocket, craving for more, whilst you might
+be turning your wealth to the service of your country.'
+
+'In what manner?' said the Armenian.
+
+'I have heard you say that the grand oppressor of your country is
+the Persian; why not attempt to free your country from his
+oppression--you have two hundred thousand pounds, and money is the
+sinew of war?'
+
+'Would you, then, have me attack the Persian?'
+
+'I scarcely know what to say; fighting is a rough trade, and I am
+by no means certain that you are calculated for the scratch. It is
+not every one who has been brought up in the school of Mr.
+Petulengro and Tawno Chikno. All I can say is, that if I were an
+Armenian, and had two hundred thousand pounds to back me, I would
+attack the Persian.'
+
+'Hem!' said the Armenian.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI
+
+
+
+The one half-crown--Merit in patience--Cementer of friendship--
+Dreadful perplexity--The usual guttural--Armenian letters--Much
+indebted to you--Pure helplessness--Dumb people.
+
+One morning on getting up I discovered that my whole worldly wealth
+was reduced to one half-crown--throughout that day I walked about
+in considerable distress of mind; it was now requisite that I
+should come to a speedy decision with respect to what I was to do;
+I had not many alternatives, and, before I had retired to rest on
+the night of the day in question, I had determined that I could do
+no better than accept the first proposal of the Armenian, and
+translate under his superintendence the Haik Esop into English.
+
+I reflected, for I made a virtue of necessity, that, after all,
+such an employment would be an honest and honourable one; honest,
+inasmuch as by engaging in it I should do harm to nobody;
+honourable, inasmuch as it was a literary task, which not every one
+was capable of executing. it was not every one of the booksellers'
+writers of London who was competent to translate the Haik Esop. I
+determined to accept the offer of the Armenian.
+
+Once or twice the thought of what I might have to undergo in the
+translation from certain peculiarities of the Armenian's temper
+almost unsettled me; but a mechanical diving of my hand into my
+pocket, and the feeling of the solitary half-crown, confirmed me;
+after all, this was a life of trial and tribulation, and I had read
+somewhere or other that there was much merit in patience, so I
+determined to hold fast in my resolution of accepting the offer of
+the Armenian.
+
+But all of a sudden I remembered that the Armenian appeared to have
+altered his intentions towards me: he appeared no longer desirous
+that I should render the Haik Esop into English for the benefit of
+the stock-jobbers on Exchange, but rather that I should acquire the
+rudiments of doing business in the Armenian fashion, and accumulate
+a fortune, which would enable me to make a figure upon 'Change with
+the best of the stock-jobbers. 'Well,' thought I, withdrawing my
+hand from my pocket, whither it had again mechanically dived,
+'after all, what would the world, what would this city, be without
+commerce? I believe the world, and particularly this city, would
+cut a very poor figure without commerce; and then there is
+something poetical in the idea of doing business after the Armenian
+fashion, dealing with dark-faced Lascars and Rabbins of the
+Sephardim. Yes, should the Armenian insist upon it, I will accept
+a seat at the desk, opposite the Moldavian clerk. I do not like
+the idea of cuffs similar to those the Armenian bestowed upon the
+Moldavian clerk; whatever merit there may be in patience, I do not
+think that my estimation of the merit of patience would be
+sufficient to induce me to remain quietly sitting under the
+infliction of cuffs. I think I should, in the event of his cuffing
+me, knock the Armenian down. Well, I think I have heard it said
+somewhere, that a knock-down blow is a great cementer of
+friendship; I think I have heard of two people being better friends
+than ever after the one had received from the other a knock-down
+blow.'
+
+That night I dreamed I had acquired a colossal fortune, some four
+hundred thousand pounds, by the Armenian way of doing business, but
+suddenly awoke in dreadful perplexity as to how I should dispose of
+it.
+
+About nine o'clock next morning I set off to the house of the
+Armenian; I had never called upon him so early before, and
+certainly never with a heart beating with so much eagerness; but
+the situation of my affairs had become very critical, and I thought
+that I ought to lose no time in informing the Armenian that I was
+at length perfectly willing either to translate the Haik Esop under
+his superintendence, or to accept a seat at the desk opposite to
+the Moldavian clerk, and acquire the secrets of Armenian commerce.
+With a quick step I entered the counting-room, where,
+notwithstanding the earliness of the hour, I found the clerk,
+busied as usual at his desk.
+
+He had always appeared to me a singular being, this same Moldavian
+clerk. A person of fewer words could scarcely be conceived:
+provided his master were at home, he would, on my inquiring, nod
+his head; and, provided he were not, he would invariably reply with
+the monosyllable No, delivered in a strange guttural tone. On the
+present occasion, being full of eagerness and impatience, I was
+about to pass by him to the apartment above, without my usual
+inquiry, when he lifted his head from the ledger in which he was
+writing, and, laying down his pen, motioned to me with his
+forefinger, as if to arrest my progress; whereupon I stopped, and,
+with a palpitating heart, demanded whether the master of the house
+was at home. The Moldavian clerk replied with his usual guttural,
+and, opening his desk, ensconced his head therein.
+
+'It does not much matter,' said I; 'I suppose I shall find him at
+home after 'Change; it does not much matter, I can return.'
+
+I was turning away with the intention of leaving the room; at this
+moment, however, the head of the Moldavian clerk became visible,
+and I observed a letter in his hand, which he had inserted in the
+desk at the same time with his head; this he extended towards me,
+making at the same time a sidelong motion with his head, as much as
+to say that it contained something which interested me.
+
+I took the letter, and the Moldavian clerk forthwith resumed his
+occupation. The back of the letter bore my name, written in
+Armenian characters; with a trembling hand I broke the seal, and,
+unfolding the letter, I beheld several lines also written in the
+letters of Mesroub, the Cadmus of the Armenians.
+
+I stared at the lines, and at first could not make out a syllable
+of their meaning; at last, however, by continued staring, I
+discovered that, though the letters were Armenian, the words were
+English; in about ten minutes I had contrived to decipher the sense
+of the letter; it ran somewhat in this style:-
+
+
+'MY DEAR FRIEND--The words which you uttered in our last
+conversation have made a profound impression upon me; I have
+thought them over day and night, and have come to the conclusion
+that it is my bounden duty to attack the Persians. When these
+lines are delivered to you, I shall be on the route to Ararat. A
+mercantile speculation will be to the world the ostensible motive
+of my journey, and it is singular enough that one which offers
+considerable prospect of advantage has just presented itself on the
+confines of Persia. Think not, however, that motives of lucre
+would have been sufficiently powerful to tempt me to the East at
+the present moment. I may speculate, it is true, but I should
+scarcely have undertaken the journey but for your pungent words
+inciting me to attack the Persians. Doubt not that I will attack
+them on the first opportunity. I thank you heartily for putting me
+in mind of my duty. I have hitherto, to use your own words, been
+too fond of money-getting, like all my countrymen. I am much
+indebted to you; farewell! and may every prosperity await you.'
+
+
+For some time after I had deciphered the epistle, I stood as if
+rooted to the floor. I felt stunned--my last hope was gone;
+presently a feeling arose in my mind--a feeling of self-reproach.
+Whom had I to blame but myself for the departure of the Armenian?
+Would he have ever thought of attacking the Persians had I not put
+the idea into his head? he had told me in his epistle that he was
+indebted to me for the idea. But for that, he might at the present
+moment have been in London, increasing his fortune by his usual
+methods, and I might be commencing under his auspices the
+translation of the Haik Esop, with the promise, no doubt, of a
+considerable remuneration for my trouble; or I might be taking a
+seat opposite the Moldavian clerk, and imbibing the first rudiments
+of doing business after the Armenian fashion, with the comfortable
+hope of realising, in a short time, a fortune of three or four
+hundred thousand pounds; but the Armenian was now gone, and
+farewell to the fine hopes I had founded upon him the day before.
+What was I to do? I looked wildly around, till my eyes rested on
+the Moldavian clerk, who was writing away in his ledger with
+particular vehemence. Not knowing well what to do or to say, I
+thought I might as well ask the Moldavian clerk when the Armenian
+had departed, and when he thought that he would return. It is true
+it mattered little to me when he departed, seeing that he was gone,
+and it was evident that he would not be back soon; but I knew not
+what to do, and in pure helplessness thought I might as well ask;
+so I went up to the Moldavian clerk, and asked him when the
+Armenian had departed, and whether he had been gone two days or
+three. Whereupon the Moldavian clerk, looking up from his ledger,
+made certain signs, which I could by no means understand. I stood
+astonished, but, presently recovering myself, inquired when he
+considered it probable that the master would return, and whether he
+thought it would be two months or--my tongue faltered--two years;
+whereupon the Moldavian clerk made more signs than before, and yet
+more unintelligible; as I persisted, however, he flung down his
+pen, and, putting his thumb into his mouth, moved it rapidly,
+causing the nail to sound against the lower jaw; whereupon I saw
+that he was dumb, and hurried away, for I had always entertained a
+horror of dumb people, having once heard my another say, when I was
+a child, that dumb people were half demoniacs, or little better.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII
+
+
+
+Kind of stupor--Peace of God--Divine hand--Farewell, child--The
+fair--Massive edifice--Battered tars--Lost! lost!--Good-day,
+gentlemen.
+
+Leaving the house of the Armenian, I strolled about for some time;
+almost mechanically my feet conducted me to London Bridge, to the
+booth in which stood the stall of the old apple-woman; the sound of
+her voice aroused me, as I sat in a kind of stupor on the stone
+bench beside her; she was inquiring what was the matter with me.
+
+At first, I believe, I answered her very incoherently, for I
+observed alarm beginning to depict itself upon her countenance.
+Rousing myself, however, I in my turn put a few questions to her
+upon her present condition and prospects. The old woman's
+countenance cleared up instantly; she informed me that she had
+never been more comfortable in her life; that her trade, her HONEST
+trade--laying an emphasis on the word honest--had increased of late
+wonderfully; that her health was better, and, above all, that she
+felt no fear and horror 'here,' laying her hand on her breast.
+
+On my asking her whether she still heard voices in the night, she
+told me that she frequently did; but that the present were mild
+voices, sweet voices, encouraging voices, very different from the
+former ones; that a voice, only the night previous, had cried out
+about 'the peace of God,' in particularly sweet accents; a sentence
+which she remembered to have read in her early youth in the primer,
+but which she had clean forgotten till the voice the night before
+brought it to her recollection.
+
+After a pause, the old woman said to me, 'I believe, dear, that it
+is the blessed book you brought me which has wrought this goodly
+change. How glad I am now that I can read; but oh what a
+difference between the book you brought to me and the one you took
+away! I believe the one you brought is written by the finger of
+God, and the other by--'
+
+'Don't abuse the book,' said I, 'it is an excellent book for those
+who can understand it; it was not exactly suited to you, and
+perhaps it had been better that you had never read it--and yet, who
+knows? Peradventure, if you had not read that book, you would not
+have been fitted for the perusal of the one which you say is
+written by the finger of God'; and, pressing my hand to my head, I
+fell into a deep fit of musing. 'What, after all,' thought I, 'if
+there should be more order and system in the working of the moral
+world than I have thought? Does there not seem in the present
+instance to be something like the working of a Divine hand? I
+could not conceive why this woman, better educated than her mother,
+should have been, as she certainly was, a worse character than her
+mother. Yet perhaps this woman may be better and happier than her
+mother ever was; perhaps she is so already--perhaps this world is
+not a wild, lying dream, as I have occasionally supposed it to be.'
+
+But the thought of my own situation did not permit me to abandon
+myself much longer to these musings. I started up. 'Where are you
+going, child?' said the woman, anxiously. 'I scarcely know,' said
+I; 'anywhere.' 'Then stay here, child,' said she; 'I have much to
+say to you.' 'No,' said I, 'I shall be better moving about'; and I
+was moving away, when it suddenly occurred to me that I might never
+see this woman again; and turning round I offered her my hand, and
+bade her good-bye. 'Farewell, child,' said the old woman, 'and God
+bless you!' I then moved along the bridge until I reached the
+Southwark side, and, still holding on my course, my mind again
+became quickly abstracted from all surrounding objects.
+
+At length I found myself in a street or road, with terraces on
+either side, and seemingly of interminable length, leading, as it
+would appear, to the south-east. I was walking at a great rate--
+there were likewise a great number of people, also walking at a
+great rate; also carts and carriages driving at a great rate; and
+all--men, carts, and carriages--going in the selfsame direction,
+namely to the south-east. I stopped for a moment and deliberated
+whether or not I should proceed. What business had I in that
+direction? I could not say that I had any particular business in
+that direction, but what could I do were I to turn back? only walk
+about well-known streets; and, if I must walk, why not continue in
+the direction in which I was to see whither the road and its
+terraces led? I was ere in a terra incognita, and an unknown place
+had always some interest for me; moreover, I had a desire to know
+whither all this crowd was going, and for what purpose. I thought
+they could not be going far, as crowds seldom go far, especially at
+such a rate; so I walked on more lustily than before, passing group
+after group of the crowd, and almost vying in speed with some of
+the carriages, especially the hackney-coaches; and, by dint of
+walking at this rate, the terraces and houses becoming somewhat
+less frequent as I advanced, I reached in about three-quarters of
+an hour a kind of low dingy town, in the neighbourhood of the
+river; the streets were swarming with people, and I concluded, from
+the number of wild-beast shows, caravans, gingerbread stalls, and
+the like, that a fair was being held. Now, as I had always been
+partial to fairs, I felt glad that I had fallen in with the crowd
+which had conducted me to the present one, and, casting away as
+much as I was able all gloomy thoughts, I did my best to enter into
+the diversions of the fair; staring at the wonderful
+representations of animals on canvas hung up before the shows of
+wild beasts, which, by the bye, are frequently found much more
+worthy of admiration than the real beasts themselves; listening to
+the jokes of the merry-andrews from the platforms in front of the
+temporary theatres, or admiring the splendid tinsel dresses of the
+performers who thronged the stages in the intervals of the
+entertainments; and in this manner, occasionally gazing and
+occasionally listening, I passed through the town till I came in
+front of a large edifice looking full upon the majestic bosom of
+the Thames.
+
+It was a massive stone edifice, built in an antique style, and
+black with age, with a broad esplanade between it and the river, on
+which, mixed with a few people from the fair, I observed moving
+about a great many individuals in quaint dresses of blue, with
+strange three-cornered hats on their heads; most of them were
+mutilated; this had a wooden leg--this wanted an arm; some had but
+one eye; and as I gazed upon the edifice, and the singular-looking
+individuals who moved before it, I guessed where I was. 'I am at--
+' said I; 'these individuals are battered tars of Old England, and
+this edifice, once the favourite abode of Glorious Elizabeth, is
+the refuge which a grateful country has allotted to them. Here
+they can rest their weary bodies; at their ease talk over the
+actions in which they have been injured; and, with the tear of
+enthusiasm flowing from their eyes, boast how they have trod the
+deck of fame with Rodney, or Nelson, or others whose names stand
+emblazoned in the naval annals of their country.'
+
+Turning to the right, I entered a park or wood consisting of
+enormous trees, occupying the foot, sides, and top of a hill which
+rose behind the town; there were multitudes of people among the
+trees, diverting themselves in various ways. Coming to the top of
+the hill, I was present' y stopped by a lofty wall, along which I
+walked, till, coming to a small gate, I passed through, and found
+myself on an extensive green plain, on one side bounded in part by
+the wall of the park, and on the others, in the distance, by
+extensive ranges of houses; to the south-east was a lofty eminence,
+partially clothed with wood. The plain exhibited an animated
+scene, a kind of continuation of the fair below; there were
+multitudes of people upon it, many tents, and shows; there was also
+horse-racing, and much noise and shouting, the sun shining brightly
+overhead. After gazing at the horse-racing for a little time,
+feeling myself somewhat tired, I went up to one of the tents, and
+laid myself down on the grass. There was much noise in the tent.
+'Who will stand me?' said a voice with a slight tendency to lisp.
+'Will you, my lord?' 'Yes,' said another voice. Then there was a
+sound as of a piece of money banging on a table. 'Lost! lost!
+lost!' cried several voices; and then the banging down of the
+money, and the 'lost! lost! lost!' were frequently repeated; at
+last the second voice exclaimed, 'I will try no more; you have
+cheated me.' 'Never cheated any one in my life, my lord--all fair-
+-all chance. Them that finds, wins--them that can't finds, loses.
+Anyone else try? Who'll try? Will you, my lord?' and then it
+appeared that some other lord tried, for I heard more money flung
+down. Then again the cry of 'lost! lost!'--then again the sound of
+money, and so on. Once or twice, but not more, I heard 'Won! won!'
+but the predominant cry was 'Lost! lost!' At last there was a
+considerable hubbub, and the words 'Cheat!' 'Rogue!' and 'You
+filched away the pea!' were used freely by more voices than one, to
+which the voice with the tendency to lisp replied, 'Never filched a
+pea in my life; would scorn it. Always glad when folks wins; but,
+as those here don't appear to be civil, not to wish to play any
+more, I shall take myself off with my table; so, good-day,
+gentlemen.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIII
+
+
+
+Singular table--No money--Out of employ--My bonnet--We of the
+thimble--Good wages--Wisely resolved--Strangest way in the world--
+Fat gentleman--Not such another--First edition--Not very easy--
+Won't close--Avella gorgio--Alarmed look.
+
+Presently a man emerged from the tent, bearing before him a rather
+singular table; it appeared to be of white deal, was exceedingly
+small at the top, and with very long legs. At a few yards from the
+entrance he paused, and looked round, as if to decide on the
+direction which he should take; presently, his eye glancing on me
+as I lay upon the ground, he started, and appeared for a moment
+inclined to make off as quick as possible, table and all. In a
+moment, however, he seemed to recover assurance, and, coming up to
+the place where I was, the long legs of the table projecting before
+him, he cried, 'Glad to see you here, my lord.'
+
+'Thank you,' said I, 'it's a fine day.'
+
+'Very fine, my lord; will your lordship play? Them that finds,
+wins--them that don't finds, loses.'
+
+'Play at what?' said I.
+
+'Only at the thimble and pea, my lord.'
+
+'I never heard of such a game.'
+
+'Didn't you? Well, I'll soon teach you,' said he, placing the
+table down. 'All you have to do is to put a sovereign down on my
+table, and to find the pea, which I put under one of my thimbles.
+If you find it,--and it is easy enough to find it,--I give you a
+sovereign besides your own: for them that finds, wins.'
+
+'And them that don't finds, loses,' said I; 'no, I don't wish to
+play.'
+
+'Why not, my lord?'
+
+'Why, in the first place, I have no money.'
+
+'Oh, you have no money, that of course alters the case. If you
+have no money, you can't play. Well, I suppose I must be seeing
+after my customers,' said he, glancing over the plain.
+
+'Good-day,' said I.
+
+'Good-day,' said the man slowly, but without moving, and as if in
+reflection. After a moment or two, looking at me inquiringly, he
+added, 'Out of employ?'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'out of employ.'
+
+The man measured me with his eye as I lay on the ground. At length
+he said, 'May I speak a word or two to you, my lord?'
+
+'As many as you please,' said I.
+
+'Then just come a little out of hearing, a little farther on the
+grass, if you please, my lord.'
+
+'Why do you call me my lord?' said I, as I arose and followed him.
+
+'We of the thimble always calls our customers lords,' said the man;
+'but I won't call you such a foolish name any more; come along.'
+
+The man walked along the plain till he came to the side of a dry
+pit, when, looking round to see that no one was nigh, he laid his
+table on the grass, and, sitting down with his legs over the side
+of the pit, he motioned me to do the same. 'So you are in want of
+employ?' said he, after I had sat down beside him.
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'I am very much in want of employ.'
+
+'I think I can find you some.'
+
+'What kind?' said I.
+
+'Why,' said the man, 'I think you would do to be my bonnet.'
+
+'Bonnet!' said I, 'what is that?'
+
+'Don't you know? However, no wonder, as you had never heard of the
+thimble and pea game, but I will tell you. We of the game are very
+much exposed; folks when they have lost their money, as those who
+play with us mostly do, sometimes uses rough language, calls us
+cheats, and sometimes knocks our hats over our eyes; and what's
+more, with a kick under our table, cause the top deals to fly off;
+this is the third table I have used this day, the other two being
+broken by uncivil customers: so we of the game generally like to
+have gentlemen go about with us to take our part, and encourage us,
+though pretending to know nothing about us; for example, when the
+customer says, "I'm cheated," the bonnet must say, "No, you ain't,
+it is all right"; or, when my hat is knocked over my eyes, the
+bonnet must square, and say, "I never saw the man before in all my
+life, but I won't see him ill-used"; and so, when they kicks at the
+table, the bonnet must say, "I won't see the table ill-used, such a
+nice table, too; besides, I want to play myself"; and then I would
+say to the bonnet, "Thank you, my lord, them that finds, wins"; and
+then the bonnet plays, and I lets the bonnet win.'
+
+'In a word,' said I, 'the bonnet means the man who covers you, even
+as the real bonnet covers the head.'
+
+'I just so,' said the man; 'I see you are awake, and would soon
+make a first-rate bonnet.'
+
+'Bonnet,' said I, musingly; 'bonnet; it is metaphorical.'
+
+'Is it?' said the man.
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'like the cant words--'
+
+'Bonnet is cant,' said the man; 'we of the thimble, as well as all
+cly-fakers and the like, understand cant, as, of course, must every
+bonnet; so, if you are employed by me, you had better learn it as
+soon as you can, that we may discourse together without being
+understood by every one. Besides covering his principal, a bonnet
+must have his eyes about him, for the trade of the pea, though a
+strictly honest one, is not altogether lawful; so it is the duty of
+the bonnet, if he sees the constable coming, to say, The gorgio's
+welling.'
+
+'That is not cant,' said I, 'that is the language of the Rommany
+Chals.'
+
+'Do you know those people?' said the man.
+
+'Perfectly,' said I, 'and their language too.'
+
+'I wish I did,' said the man; 'I would give ten pounds and more to
+know the language of the Rommany Chals. There's some of it in the
+language of the pea and thimble; how it came there I don't know,
+but so it is. I wish I knew it, but it is difficult. You'll make
+a capital bonnet; shall we close?'
+
+'What would the wages be?' I demanded.
+
+'Why, to a first-rate bonnet, as I think you would prove, I could
+afford to give from forty to fifty shillings a week.'
+
+'Is it possible?' said I.
+
+'Good wages, ain't they?' said the man.
+
+'First-rate,' said I; 'bonneting is more profitable than
+reviewing.'
+
+'Anan?' said the man.
+
+'Or translating; I don't think the Armenian would have paid me at
+that rate for translating his Esop.'
+
+'Who is he?' said the man.
+
+'Esop?'
+
+'No, I know what that is, Esop's cant for a hunchback; but
+t'other?'
+
+'You should know,' said I.
+
+'Never saw the man in all my life.'
+
+'Yes, you have,' said I, 'and felt him too; don't you remember the
+individual from whom you took the pocket-book?'
+
+'Oh, that was he; well, the less said about that matter the better;
+I have left off that trade, and taken to this, which is a much
+better. Between ourselves, I am not sorry that I did not carry off
+that pocket-book; if I had, it might have encouraged me in the
+trade, in which had I remained, I might have been lagged, sent
+abroad, as I had been already imprisoned; so I determined to leave
+it off at all hazards, though I was hard up, not having a penny in
+the world.'
+
+'And wisely resolved,' said I; 'it was a bad and dangerous trade, I
+wonder you should ever have embraced it.'
+
+'It is all very well talking,' said the man, 'but there is a reason
+for everything; I am the son of a Jewess, by a military officer'--
+and then the man told me his story. I shall not repeat the man's
+story, it was a poor one, a vile one; at last he observed, 'So that
+affair which you know of determined me to leave the filching trade,
+and take up with a more honest and safe one; so at last I thought
+of the pea and thimble, but I wanted funds, especially to pay for
+lessons at the hands of a master, for I knew little about it.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'how did you get over that difficulty?'
+
+'Why,' said the man, 'I thought I should never have got over it.
+What funds could I raise? I had nothing to sell; the few clothes I
+had I wanted, for we of the thimble must always appear decent, or
+nobody would come near us. I was at my wits' ends; at last I got
+over my difficulty in the strangest way in the world.'
+
+'What was that?'
+
+'By an old thing which I had picked up some time before--a book.'
+
+'A book?' said I.
+
+'Yes, which I had taken out of your lordship's pocket one day as
+you were walking the streets in a great hurry. I thought it was a
+pocket-book at first, full of bank-notes, perhaps,' continued he,
+laughing. 'It was well for me, however, that it was not, for I
+should have soon spent the notes; as it was, I had flung the old
+thing down with an oath, as soon as I brought it home. When I was
+so hard up, however, after the affair with that friend of yours, I
+took it up one day, and thought I might make something by it to
+support myself a day with. Chance or something else led me into a
+grand shop; there was a man there who seemed to be the master,
+talking to a jolly, portly old gentleman, who seemed to be a
+country squire. Well, I went up to the first, and offered it for
+sale; he took the book, opened it at the title-page, and then all
+of a sudden his eyes glistened, and he showed it to the fat, jolly
+gentleman, and his eyes glistened too, and I heard him say "How
+singular!" and then the two talked together in a speech I didn't
+understand--I rather thought it was French, at any rate it wasn't
+cant; and presently the first asked me what I would take for the
+book. Now I am not altogether a fool, nor am I blind, and I had
+narrowly marked all that passed, and it came into my head that now
+was the time for making a man of myself, at any rate I could lose
+nothing by a little confidence; so I looked the man boldly in the
+face, and said, "I will have five guineas for that book, there
+ain't such another in the whole world." "Nonsense," said the first
+man, "there are plenty of them, there have been nearly fifty
+editions, to my knowledge; I will give you five shillings." "No,"
+said I, "I'll not take it, for I don't like to be cheated, so give
+me my book again"; and I attempted to take it away from the fat
+gentleman's hand. "Stop," said the younger man; "are you sure that
+you won't take less?" "Not a farthing," said I; which was not
+altogether true, but I said so. "Well," said the fat gentleman, "I
+will give you what you ask"; and sure enough he presently gave me
+the money; so I made a bow, and was leaving the shop, when it came
+into my head that there was something odd in all this, and, as I
+had the money in my pocket, I turned back, and, making another bow,
+said, "May I be so bold as to ask why you gave me all this money
+for that 'ere dirty book? When I came into the shop, I should have
+been glad to get a shilling for it; but I saw you wanted it, and
+asked five guineas." Then they looked at one another, and smiled,
+and shrugged up their shoulders. Then the first man, looking at
+me, said, "Friend, you have been a little too sharp for us;
+however, we can afford to forgive you, as my friend here has long
+been in quest of this particular book; there are plenty of
+editions, as I told you, and a common copy is not worth five
+shillings; but this is a first edition, and a copy of the first
+edition is worth its weight in gold."'
+
+'So, after all, they outwitted you,' I observed.
+
+'Clearly,' said the man; 'I might have got double the price, had I
+known the value; but I don't care, much good may it do them, it has
+done me plenty. By means of it I have got into an honest,
+respectable trade, in which there's little danger and plenty of
+profit, and got out of one which would have got me lagged, sooner
+or later.'
+
+'But,' said I, 'you ought to remember that the thing was not yours;
+you took it from me, who had been requested by a poor old apple-
+woman to exchange it for a Bible.'
+
+'Well,' said the man, 'did she ever get her Bible?'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'she got her Bible.'
+
+'Then she has no cause to complain; and, as for you, chance or
+something else has sent you to me, that I may make you reasonable
+amends for any loss you may have had. Here am I ready to make you
+my bonnet, with forty or fifty shillings a week, which you say
+yourself are capital wages.'
+
+'I find no fault with the wages,' said I, 'but I don't like the
+employ.'
+
+'Not like bonneting,' said the man; 'ah, I see, you would like to
+be principal; well, a time may come--those long white fingers of
+yours would just serve for the business.'
+
+'Is it a difficult one?' I demanded.
+
+'Why, it is not very easy: two things are needful--natural talent,
+and constant practice; but I'll show you a point or two connected
+with the game'; and, placing his table between his knees as he sat
+over the side of the pit, he produced three thimbles, and a small
+brown pellet, something resembling a pea. He moved the thimble and
+pellet about, now placing it to all appearance under one, and now
+under another; 'Under which is it now?' he said at last. 'Under
+that,' said I, pointing to the lowermost of the thimbles, which, as
+they stood, formed a kind of triangle. 'No,' said he, 'it is not,
+but lift it up'; and, when I lifted up the thimble, the pellet, in
+truth, was not under it. 'It was under none of them,' said he, 'it
+was pressed by my little finger against my palm'; and then he
+showed me how he did the trick, and asked me if the game was not a
+funny one; and, on my answering in the affirmative, he said, 'I am
+glad you like it; come along and let us win some money.'
+
+Thereupon, getting up, he placed the table before him, and was
+moving away; observing, however, that I did not stir, he asked me
+what I was staying for. 'Merely for my own pleasure,' said I; 'I
+like sitting here very well.' 'Then you won't close?' said the
+man. 'By no means,' I replied; 'your proposal does not suit me.'
+'You may be principal in time,' said the man. 'That makes no
+difference,' said I; and, sitting with my legs over the pit, I
+forthwith began to decline an Armenian noun. 'That ain't cant,'
+said the man; 'no, nor gypsy either. Well, if you won't close,
+another will, I can't lose any more time,' and forthwith he
+departed.
+
+And after I had declined four Armenian nouns, of different
+declensions, I rose from the side of the pit, and wandered about
+amongst the various groups of people scattered over the green.
+Presently I came to where the man of the thimbles was standing,
+with the table before him, and many people about him. 'Them who
+finds, wins, and them who can't find, loses,' he cried. Various
+individuals tried to find the pellet, but all were unsuccessful,
+till at last considerable dissatisfaction was expressed, and the
+terms rogue and cheat were lavished upon him. 'Never cheated
+anybody in all my life,' he cried; and, observing me at hand,
+'didn't I play fair, my lord?' he inquired. But I made no answer.
+Presently some more played, and he permitted one or two to win, and
+the eagerness to play with him became greater. After I had looked
+on for some time, I was moving away: just then I perceived a
+short, thick personage, with a staff in his hand, advancing in a
+great hurry; whereupon, with a sudden impulse, I exclaimed -
+
+
+Shoon thimble-engro;
+Avella gorgio.
+
+
+The man, who was in the midst of his pea-and-thimble process, no
+sooner heard the last word of the distich than he turned an alarmed
+look in the direction of where I stood; then, glancing around, and
+perceiving the constable, he slipped forthwith his pellet and
+thimbles into his pocket, and, lifting up his table, he cried to
+the people about him, 'Make way!' and with a motion with his head
+to me, as if to follow him, he darted off with a swiftness which
+the short, pursy constable could by no means rival; and whither he
+went, or what became of him, I know not, inasmuch as I turned away
+in another direction.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIV
+
+
+
+Mr. Petulengro--Rommany Rye--Lil-writers--One's own horn--Lawfully-
+earnt money--The wooded hill--A great favourite--The shop window--
+Much wanted.
+
+And, as I wandered along the green, I drew near to a place where
+several men, with a cask beside them, sat carousing in the
+neighbourhood of a small tent. 'Here he comes,' said one of them,
+as I advanced, and standing up he raised his voice and sang:-
+
+
+'Here the Gypsy gemman see,
+With his Roman jib and his rome and dree -
+Rome and dree, rum and dry
+Rally round the Rommany Rye.'
+
+
+It was Mr. Petulengro, who was here diverting himself with several
+of his comrades; they all received me with considerable frankness.
+'Sit down, brother,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'and take a cup of good
+ale.'
+
+I sat down. 'Your health, gentlemen,' said I, as I took the cup
+which Mr. Petulengro handed to me.
+
+'Aukko tu pios adrey Rommanis. Here is your health in Rommany,
+brother,' said Mr. Petulengro; who, having refilled the cup, now
+emptied it at a draught.
+
+'Your health in Rommany, brother,' said Tawno Chikno, to whom the
+cup came next.
+
+'The Rommany Rye,' said a third.
+
+'The Gypsy gentleman,' exclaimed a fourth, drinking.
+
+And then they all sang in chorus:-
+
+
+'Here the Gypsy gemman see,
+With his Roman jib and his rome and dree -
+Rome and dree, rum and dry
+Rally round the Rommany Rye.'
+
+
+'And now, brother,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'seeing that you have
+drunk and been drunken, you will perhaps tell us where you have
+been, and what about?'
+
+'I have been in the Big City,' said I, 'writing lils.'
+
+'How much money have you got in your pocket, brother?' said Mr.
+Petulengro.
+
+'Eighteenpence,' said I; 'all I have in the world.'
+
+'I have been in the Big City, too,' said Mr. Petulengro; 'but I
+have not written lils--I have fought in the ring--I have fifty
+pounds in my pocket--I have much more in the world. Brother, there
+is considerable difference between us.
+
+'I would rather be the lil-writer, after all,' said the tall,
+handsome, black man; 'indeed, I would wish for nothing better.'
+
+'Why so?' said Mr. Petulengro.
+
+'Because they have so much to say for themselves,' said the black
+man, 'even when dead and gone. When they are laid in the
+churchyard, it is their own fault if people ain't talking of them.
+Who will know, after I am dead, or bitchadey pawdel, that I was
+once the beauty of the world, or that you Jasper were--'
+
+'The best man in England of my inches. That's true, Tawno--
+however, here's our brother will perhaps let the world know
+something about us.'
+
+'Not he,' said the other, with a sigh; 'he'll have quite enough to
+do in writing his own lils, and telling the world how handsome and
+clever he was; and who can blame him? Not I. If I could write
+lils, every word should be about myself and my own tacho Rommanis--
+my own lawful wedded wife, which is the same thing. I tell you
+what, brother, I once heard a wise man say in Brummagem, that
+"there is nothing like blowing one's own horn," which I conceive to
+be much the same thing as writing one's own lil.'
+
+After a little more conversation, Mr. Petulengro arose, and
+motioned me to follow him. 'Only eighteenpence in the world,
+brother?' said he, as we walked together.
+
+'Nothing more, I assure you. How came you to ask me how much money
+I had?'
+
+'Because there was something in your look, brother, something very
+much resembling that which a person showeth who does not carry much
+money in his pocket. I was looking at my own face this morning in
+my wife's looking-glass--I did not look as you do, brother.'
+
+'I believe your sole motive for inquiring,' said I, 'was to have an
+opportunity of venting a foolish boast, and to let me know that you
+were in possession of fifty pounds.'
+
+'What is the use of having money unless you let people know you
+have it?' said Mr. Petulengro. 'It is not every one can read
+faces, brother; and, unless you knew I had money, how could you ask
+me to lend you any?'
+
+'I am not going to ask you to lend me any.'
+
+'Then you may have it without asking; as I said before, I have
+fifty pounds, all lawfully-earnt money, got by fighting in the
+ring--I will lend you that, brother.'
+
+'You are very kind,' said I; 'but I will not take it.'
+
+'Then the half of it?'
+
+'Nor the half of it; but it is getting towards evening, I must go
+back to the Great City.'
+
+'And what will you do in the Boro Foros?'
+
+'I know not,' said I.
+
+'Earn money?
+
+'If I can.'
+
+'And if you can't?'
+
+'Starve!'
+
+'You look ill, brother,' said Mr. Petulengro.
+
+'I do not feel well; the Great City does not agree with me. Should
+I be so fortunate as to earn some money, I would leave the Big
+City, and take to the woods and fields.'
+
+'You may do that, brother,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'whether you have
+money or not. Our tents and horses are on the other side of yonder
+wooded hill, come and stay with us; we shall all be glad of your
+company, but more especially myself and my wife Pakomovna.'
+
+'What hill is that?' I demanded.
+
+And then Mr. Petulengro told me the name of the hill. 'We shall
+stay on t'other side of the hill a fortnight,' he continued; 'and,
+as you are fond of lil-writing, you may employ yourself profitably
+whilst there. You can write the lil of him whose dock gallops down
+that hill every night, even as the living man was wont to do long
+ago.'
+
+'Who was he?' I demanded.
+
+'Jemmy Abershaw,' said Mr. Petulengro; 'one of those whom we call
+Boro drom engroes, and the gorgios highway-men. I once heard a rye
+say that the life of that man would fetch much money; so come to
+the other side of the hill, and write the lil in the tent of Jasper
+and his wife Pakomovna.'
+
+At first I felt inclined to accept the invitation of Mr.
+Petulengro; a little consideration, however, determined me to
+decline it. I had always been on excellent terms with Mr.
+Petulengro, but I reflected that people might be excellent friends
+when they met occasionally in the street, or on the heath, or in
+the wood; but that these very people when living together in a
+house, to say nothing of a tent, might quarrel. I reflected,
+moreover, that Mr. Petulengro had a wife. I had always, it is
+true, been a great favourite with Mrs. Petulengro, who had
+frequently been loud in her commendation of the young rye, as she
+called me, and his turn of conversation; but this was at a time
+when I stood in need of nothing, lived under my parents' roof, and
+only visited at the tents to divert and to be diverted. The times
+were altered, and I was by no means certain that Mrs. Petulengro,
+when she should discover that I was in need both of shelter and
+subsistence, might not alter her opinion both with respect to the
+individual and what he said--stigmatising my conversation as saucy
+discourse, and myself as a scurvy companion; and that she might
+bring over her husband to her own way of thinking, provided,
+indeed, he should need any conducting. I therefore, though without
+declaring my reasons, declined the offer of Mr. Petulengro, and
+presently, after shaking him by the hand, bent again my course
+towards the Great City.
+
+I crossed the river at a bridge considerably above that hight of
+London; for, not being acquainted with the way, I missed the
+turning which should have brought me to the latter. Suddenly I
+found myself in a street of which I had some recollection, and
+mechanically stopped before the window of a shop at which various
+publications were exposed; it was that of the bookseller to whom I
+had last applied in the hope of selling my ballads or Ab Gwilym,
+and who had given me hopes that, in the event of my writing a
+decent novel, or a tale, he would prove a purchaser. As I stood
+listlessly looking at the window, and the publications which it
+contained, I observed a paper affixed to the glass by wafers with
+something written upon it. I drew yet nearer for the purpose of
+inspecting it; the writing was in a fair round hand--'A Novel or
+Tale is much wanted,' was what was written.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LV
+
+
+
+Bread and water--Pair play--Fashion--Colonel B---Joseph Sell--The
+kindly glow--Easiest manner imaginable.
+
+'I must do something,' said I, as I sat that night in my lonely
+apartment, with some bread and a pitcher of water before me.
+
+Thereupon taking some of the bread, and eating it, I considered
+what I was to do. 'I have no idea what I am to do,' said I, as I
+stretched my hand towards the pitcher, 'unless (and here I took a
+considerable draught) I write a tale or a novel--That bookseller,'
+I continued, speaking to myself, 'is certainly much in need of a
+tale or a novel, otherwise he would not advertise for one. Suppose
+I write one, I appear to have no other chance of extricating myself
+from my present difficulties; surely it was Fate that conducted me
+to his window.
+
+'I will do it,' said I, as I struck my hand against the table; 'I
+will do it.' Suddenly a heavy cloud of despondency came over me.
+Could I do it? Had I the imagination requisite to write a tale or
+a novel? 'Yes, yes,' said I, as I struck my hand again against the
+table, 'I can manage it; give me fair play, and I can accomplish
+anything.'
+
+But should I have fair play? I must have something to maintain
+myself with whilst I wrote my tale, and I had but eighteenpence in
+the world. Would that maintain me whilst I wrote my tale? Yes, I
+thought it would, provided I ate bread, which did not cost much,
+and drank water, which cost nothing; it was poor diet, it was true,
+but better men than myself had written on bread and water; had not
+the big man told me so? or something to that effect, months before?
+
+It was true there was my lodging to pay for; but up to the present
+time I owed nothing, and perhaps, by the time that the people of
+the house asked me for money, I should have written a tale or a
+novel, which would bring me in money; I had paper, pens, and ink,
+and, let me not forget them, I had candles in my closet, all paid
+for, to light me during my night work. Enough, I would go doggedly
+to work upon my tale or novel.
+
+But what was the tale or novel to be about? Was it to be a tale of
+fashionable life, about Sir Harry Somebody, and the Countess
+something? But I knew nothing about fashionable people, and cared
+less; therefore how should I attempt to describe fashionable life?
+What should the tale consist of? The life and adventures of some
+one. Good--but of whom? Did not Mr. Petulengro mention one Jemmy
+Abershaw? Yes. Did he not tell me that the life and adventures of
+Jemmy Abershaw would bring in much money to the writer? Yes, but I
+knew nothing of that worthy. I heard, it is true, from Mr.
+Petulengro, that when alive he committed robberies on the hill, on
+the side of which Mr. Petulengro had pitched his tents, and that
+his ghost still haunted the hill at midnight; but those were scant
+materials out of which to write the man's life. It is probable
+indeed, that Mr. Petulengro would be able to supply me with further
+materials if I should apply to him, but I was in a hurry, and could
+not afford the time which it would be necessary to spend in passing
+to and from Mr. Petulengro, and consulting him. Moreover, my pride
+revolted at the idea of being beholden to Mr. Petulengro for the
+materials of the history. No, I would not write the history of
+Abershaw. Whose then--Harry Simms? Alas, the life of Harry Simms
+had been already much better written by himself than I could hope
+to do it; and, after all, Harry Simms, like Jemmy Abershaw, was
+merely a robber. Both, though bold and extraordinary men, were
+merely highwaymen. I questioned whether I could compose a tale
+likely to excite any particular interest out of the exploits of a
+mere robber. I want a character for my hero, thought I, something
+higher than a mere robber; some one like--like Colonel B-. By the
+way, why should I not write the life and adventures of Colonel B-,
+of Londonderry in Ireland?
+
+A truly singular man was this same Colonel B-, of Londonderry in
+Ireland; a personage of most strange and incredible feats and
+daring, who had been a partizan soldier, a bravo--who, assisted by
+certain discontented troopers, nearly succeeded in stealing the
+crown and regalia from the Tower of London; who attempted to hang
+the Duke of Ormond at Tyburn; and whose strange, eventful career
+did not terminate even with his life, his dead body, on the
+circulation of an unfounded report that he did not come to his
+death by fair means, having been exhumed by the mob of his native
+place, where he had retired to die, and carried in the coffin
+through the streets.
+
+Of his life I had inserted an account in the Newgate Lives and
+Trials; it was bare and meagre, and written in the stiff, awkward
+style of the seventeenth century; it had, however, strongly
+captivated my imagination, and I now thought that out of it
+something better could be made; that, if I added to the adventures,
+and purified the style, I might fashion out of it a very decent
+tale or novel. On a sudden, however, the proverb of mending old
+garments with new cloth occurred to me. 'I am afraid,' said I,
+'any new adventures which I can invent will not fadge well with the
+old tale; one will but spoil the other.' I had better have nothing
+to do with Colonel B-, thought I, but boldly and independently sit
+down and write the life of Joseph Sell.
+
+This Joseph Sell, dear reader, was a fictitious personage who had
+just come into my head. I had never even heard of the name, but
+just at that moment it happened to come into my head; I would write
+an entirely fictitious narrative, called the Life and Adventures of
+Joseph Sell, the great traveller.
+
+I had better begin at once, thought I; and removing the bread and
+the jug, which latter was now empty, I seized pen and paper, and
+forthwith essayed to write the life of Joseph Sell, but soon
+discovered that it is much easier to resolve upon a thing than to
+achieve it, or even to commence it; for the life of me I did not
+know how to begin, and, after trying in vain to write a line, I
+thought it would be as well to go to bed, and defer my projected
+undertaking till the morrow.
+
+So I went to bed, but not to sleep. During the greater part of the
+night I lay awake, musing upon the work which I had determined to
+execute. For a long time my brain was dry and unproductive; I
+could form no plan which appeared feasible. At length I felt
+within my brain a kindly glow; it was the commencement of
+inspiration; in a few minutes I had formed my plan; I then began to
+imagine the scenes and the incidents. Scenes and incidents flitted
+before my mind's eye so plentifully, that I knew not how to dispose
+of them; I was in a regular embarrassment. At length I got out of
+the difficulty in the easiest manner imaginable, namely, by
+consigning to the depths of oblivion all the feebler and less
+stimulant scenes and incidents, and retaining the better and more
+impressive ones. Before morning I had sketched the whole work on
+the tablets of my mind, and then resigned myself to sleep in the
+pleasing conviction that the most difficult part of my undertaking
+was achieved.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVI
+
+
+
+Considerably sobered--Power of writing--The tempter--Hungry talent-
+-Work concluded.
+
+Rather late in the morning I awoke; for a few minutes I lay still,
+perfectly still; my imagination was considerably sobered; the
+scenes and situations which had pleased me so much over night
+appeared to me in a far less captivating guise that morning. I
+felt languid and almost hopeless--the thought, however, of my
+situation soon roused me--I must make an effort to improve the
+posture of my affairs; there was no time to be lost; so I sprang
+out of bed, breakfasted on bread and water, and then sat down
+doggedly to write the life of Joseph Sell.
+
+It was a great thing to have formed my plan, and to have arranged
+the scenes in my head, as I had done on the preceding night. The
+chief thing requisite at present was the mere mechanical act of
+committing them to paper. This I did not find at first so easy as
+I could wish--I wanted mechanical skill; but I persevered, and
+before evening I had written ten pages. I partook of some bread
+and water; and before I went to bed that night, I had completed
+fifteen pages of my life of Joseph Sell.
+
+The next day I resumed my task--I found my power of writing
+considerably increased; my pen hurried rapidly over the paper--my
+brain was in a wonderfully teeming state; many scenes and visions
+which I had not thought of before were evolved, and, as fast as
+evolved, written down; they seemed to be more pat to my purpose,
+and more natural to my history, than many others which I had
+imagined before, and which I made now give place to these newer
+creations: by about midnight I had added thirty fresh pages to my
+Life and Adventures of Joseph Sell.
+
+The third day arose--it was dark and dreary out of doors, and I
+passed it drearily enough within; my brain appeared to have lost
+much of its former glow, and my pen much of its power; I, however,
+toiled on, but at midnight had only added seven pages to my history
+of Joseph Sell.
+
+On the fourth day the sun shone brightly--I arose, and, having
+breakfasted as usual, I fell to work. My brain was this day
+wonderfully prolific, and my pen never before or since glided so
+rapidly over the paper; towards night I began to feel strangely
+about the back part of my head, and my whole system was
+extraordinarily affected. I likewise occasionally saw double--a
+tempter now seemed to be at work within me.
+
+'You had better leave off now for a short space,' said the tempter,
+'and go out and drink a pint of beer; you have still one shilling
+left--if you go on at this rate, you will go mad--go out and spend
+sixpence, you can afford it, more than half your work is done.' I
+was about to obey the suggestion of the tempter, when the idea
+struck me that, if I did not complete the work whilst the fit was
+on me, I should never complete it; so I held on. I am almost afraid
+to state how many pages I wrote that day of the life of Joseph
+Sell.
+
+ From this time I proceeded in a somewhat more leisurely manner;
+but, as I drew nearer and nearer to the completion of my task,
+dreadful fears and despondencies came over me.--It will be too
+late, thought I; by the time I have finished the work, the
+bookseller will have been supplied with a tale or a novel. Is it
+probable that, in a town like this, where talent is so abundant--
+hungry talent too--a bookseller can advertise for a tale or a
+novel, without being supplied with half a dozen in twenty-four
+hours? I may as well fling down my pen--I am writing to no
+purpose. And these thoughts came over my mind so often, that at
+last, in utter despair, I flung down the pen. Whereupon the
+tempter within me said--'And, now you have flung down the pen, you
+may as well fling yourself out of the window; what remains for you
+to do?' Why, to take it up again, thought I to myself, for I did
+not like the latter suggestion at all--and then forthwith I resumed
+the pen, and wrote with greater vigour than before, from about six
+o'clock in the evening until I could hardly see, when I rested for
+a while, when the tempter within me again said, or appeared to say-
+-'All you have been writing is stuff, it will never do--a drug--a
+mere drug'; and methought these last words were uttered in the
+gruff tones of the big publisher. 'A thing merely to be sneezed
+at,' a voice like that of Taggart added; and then I seemed to hear
+a sternutation,--as I probably did, for, recovering from a kind of
+swoon, I found myself shivering with cold. The next day I brought
+my work to a conclusion.
+
+But the task of revision still remained; for an hour or two I
+shrank from it, and remained gazing stupidly at the pile of paper
+which I had written over. I was all but exhausted, and I dreaded,
+on inspecting the sheets, to find them full of absurdities which I
+had paid no regard to in the furor of composition. But the task,
+however trying to my nerves, must be got over; at last, in a kind
+of desperation, I entered upon it. It was far from an easy one;
+there were, however, fewer errors and absurdities than I had
+anticipated. About twelve o'clock at night I had got over the task
+of revision. 'To-morrow for the bookseller,' said I, as my head
+sank on the pillow. 'Oh me!'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVII
+
+
+
+Nervous look--The bookseller's wife--The last stake--Terms--God
+forbid!--Will you come to tea?--A light heart.
+
+On arriving at the bookseller's shop, I cast a nervous look at the
+window, for the purpose of observing whether the paper had been
+removed or not. To my great delight the paper was in its place;
+with a beating heart I entered, there was nobody in the shop; as I
+stood at the counter, however, deliberating whether or not I should
+call out, the door of what seemed to be a back-parlour opened, and
+out came a well-dressed lady-like female, of about thirty, with a
+good-looking and intelligent countenance. 'What is your business,
+young man?' said she to me, after I had made her a polite bow. 'I
+wish to speak to the gentleman of the house,' said I. 'My husband
+is not within at present,' she replied; 'what is your business?'
+'I have merely brought something to show him,' said I, 'but I will
+call again.' 'If you are the young gentleman who has been here
+before,' said the lady, 'with poems and ballads, as, indeed, I know
+you are,' she added, smiling, 'for I have seen you through the
+glass door, I am afraid it will be useless; that is,' she added
+with another smile, 'if you bring us nothing else.' 'I have not
+brought you poems and ballads now,' said I, 'but something widely
+different; I saw your advertisement for a tale or a novel, and have
+written something which I think will suit; and here it is,' I
+added, showing the roll of paper which I held in my hand. 'Well,'
+said the bookseller's wife, 'you may leave it, though I cannot
+promise you much chance of its being accepted. My husband has
+already had several offered to him; however, you may leave it; give
+it me. Are you afraid to intrust it to me?' she demanded somewhat
+hastily, observing that I hesitated. 'Excuse me,' said I, 'but it
+is all I have to depend upon in the world; I am chiefly
+apprehensive that it will not be read.' 'On that point I can
+reassure you,' said the good lady, smiling, and there was now
+something sweet in her smile. 'I give you my word that it shall be
+read; come again to-morrow morning at eleven, when, if not
+approved, it shall be returned to you.'
+
+I returned to my lodging, and forthwith betook myself to bed,
+notwithstanding the earliness of the hour. I felt tolerably
+tranquil; I had now cast my last stake, and was prepared to abide
+by the result. Whatever that result might be, I could have nothing
+to reproach myself with; I had strained all the energies which
+nature had given me in order to rescue myself from the difficulties
+which surrounded me. I presently sank into a sleep, which endured
+during the remainder of the day, and the whole of the succeeding
+night. I awoke about nine on the morrow, and spent my last
+threepence on a breakfast somewhat more luxurious than the
+immediately preceding ones, for one penny of the sum was expended
+on the purchase of milk.
+
+At the appointed hour I repaired to the house of the bookseller;
+the bookseller was in his shop. 'Ah,' said he, as soon as I
+entered, 'I am glad to see you.' There was an unwonted heartiness
+in the bookseller's tones, an unwonted benignity in his face.
+'So,' said he, after a pause, 'you have taken my advice, written a
+book of adventure; nothing like taking the advice, young man, of
+your superiors in age. Well, I think your book will do, and so
+does my wife, for whose judgment I have a great regard; as well I
+may, as she is the daughter of a first-rate novelist, deceased. I
+think I shall venture on sending your book to the press.' 'But,'
+said I, 'we have not yet agreed upon terms.' 'Terms, terms,' said
+the bookseller; 'ahem! well, there is nothing like coming to terms
+at once. I will print the book, and give you half the profit when
+the edition is sold.' 'That will not do,' said I; 'I intend
+shortly to leave London: I must have something at once.' 'Ah, I
+see,' said the bookseller, 'in distress; frequently the case with
+authors, especially young ones. Well, I don't care if I purchase
+it of you, but you must be moderate; the public are very
+fastidious, and the speculation may prove a losing one after all.
+Let me see, will five--hem--' he stopped. I looked the bookseller
+in the face; there was something peculiar in it. Suddenly it
+appeared to me as if the voice of him of the thimble sounded in my
+ear, 'Now is your time, ask enough, never such another chance of
+establishing yourself; respectable trade, pea and thimble.'
+'Well,' said I at last, 'I have no objection to take the offer
+which you were about to make, though I really think five-and-twenty
+guineas to be scarcely enough, everything considered.' 'Five-and-
+twenty guineas!' said the bookseller; 'are you--what was I going to
+say--I never meant to offer half as much--I mean a quarter; I was
+going to say five guineas--I mean pounds; I will, however, make it
+up guineas.' 'That will not do,' said I; 'but, as I find we shall
+not deal, return me my manuscript, that I may carry it to some one
+else.' The bookseller looked blank. 'Dear me,' said he, 'I should
+never have supposed that you would have made any objection to such
+an offer; I am quite sure that you would have been glad to take
+five pounds for either of the two huge manuscripts of songs and
+ballads that you brought me on a former occasion.' 'Well,' said I,
+'if you will engage to publish either of those two manuscripts, you
+shall have the present one for five pounds.' 'God forbid that I
+should make any such bargain!' said the bookseller; 'I would
+publish neither on any account; but, with respect to this last
+book, I have really an inclination to print it, both for your sake
+and mine; suppose we say ten pounds.' 'No,' said I, 'ten pounds
+will not do; pray restore me my manuscript.' 'Stay,' said the
+bookseller, 'my wife is in the next room, I will go and consult
+her.' Thereupon he went into his back room, where I heard him
+conversing with his wife in a low tone; in about ten minutes he
+returned. 'Young gentleman,' said he, 'perhaps you will take tea
+with us this evening, when we will talk further over the matter.'
+
+That evening I went and took tea with the bookseller and his wife,
+both of whom, particularly the latter, overwhelmed me with
+civility. It was not long before I learned that the work had been
+already sent to the press, and was intended to stand at the head of
+a series of entertaining narratives, from which my friends promised
+themselves considerable profit. The subject of terms was again
+brought forward. I stood firm to my first demand for a long time;
+when, however, the bookseller's wife complimented me on my
+production in the highest terms, and said that she discovered
+therein the germs of genius, which she made no doubt would some day
+prove ornamental to my native land, I consented to drop my demand
+to twenty pounds, stipulating, however, that I should not be
+troubled with the correction of the work.
+
+Before I departed, I received the twenty pounds, and departed with
+a light heart to my lodgings.
+
+Reader, amidst the difficulties and dangers of this life, should
+you ever be tempted to despair, call to mind these latter chapters
+of the life of Lavengro. There are few positions, however
+difficult, from which dogged resolution and perseverance may not
+liberate you.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVIII
+
+
+
+Indisposition--A resolution--Poor equivalents--The piece of gold--
+Flashing eyes--How beautiful--Bon jour, Monsieur.
+
+I had long ago determined to leave London as soon as the means
+should be in my power, and, now that they were, I determined to
+leave the Great City; yet I felt some reluctance to go. I would
+fain have pursued the career of original authorship which had just
+opened itself to me, and have written other tales of adventure.
+The bookseller had given me encouragement enough to do so; he had
+assured me that he should be always happy to deal with me for an
+article (that was the word) similar to the one I had brought him,
+provided my terms were moderate; and the bookseller's wife, by her
+complimentary language, had given me yet more encouragement. But
+for some months past I had been far from well, and my original
+indisposition, brought on partly by the peculiar atmosphere of the
+Big City, partly by anxiety of mind, had been much increased by the
+exertions which I had been compelled to make during the last few
+days. I felt that, were I to remain where I was, I should die, or
+become a confirmed valetudinarian. I would go forth into the
+country, travelling on foot, and, by exercise and inhaling pure
+air, endeavour to recover my health, leaving my subsequent
+movements to be determined by Providence.
+
+But whither should I bend my course? Once or twice I thought of
+walking home to the old town, stay some time with my mother and my
+brother, and enjoy the pleasant walks in the neighbourhood; but,
+though I wished very much to see my mother and my brother, and felt
+much disposed to enjoy the said pleasant walks, the old town was
+not exactly the place to which I wished to go at this present
+juncture. I was afraid that people would ask, Where are your
+Northern Ballads? Where are your alliterative translations from Ab
+Gwilym--of which you were always talking, and with which you
+promised to astonish the world? Now, in the event of such
+interrogations, what could I answer? It is true I had compiled
+Newgate Lives and Trials, and had written the life of Joseph Sell,
+but I was afraid that the people of the old town would scarcely
+consider these as equivalents for the Northern Ballads and the
+songs of Ab Gwilym. I would go forth and wander in any direction
+but that of the old town.
+
+But how one's sensibility on any particular point diminishes with
+time; at present I enter the old town perfectly indifferent as to
+what the people may be thinking on the subject of the songs and
+ballads. With respect to the people themselves, whether, like my
+sensibility, their curiosity has altogether evaporated, whether,
+which is at least equally probable, they never entertained any, one
+thing is certain, that never in a single instance have they
+troubled me with any remarks on the subject of the songs and
+ballads.
+
+As it was my intention to travel on foot, with a bundle and a
+stick, I despatched my trunk containing some few clothes and books
+to the old town. My preparations were soon made; in about three
+days I was in readiness to start.
+
+Before departing, however, I bethought me of my old friend the
+apple-woman of London Bridge. Apprehensive that she might be
+labouring under the difficulties of poverty, I sent her a piece of
+gold by the hands of a young maiden in the house in which I lived.
+The latter punctually executed her commission, but brought me back
+the piece of gold. The old woman would not take it; she did not
+want it, she said. 'Tell the poor thin lad,' she added, 'to keep
+it for himself, he wants it more than I.'
+
+Rather late one afternoon I departed from my lodging, with my stick
+in one hand and a small bundle in the other, shaping my course to
+the south-west: when I first arrived, somewhat more than a year
+before, I had entered the city by the north-east. As I was not
+going home, I determined to take my departure in the direction the
+very opposite to home.
+
+Just as I was about to cross the street called the Haymarket, at
+the lower part, a cabriolet, drawn by a magnificent animal, came
+dashing along at a furious rate; it stopped close by the curb-stone
+where I was, a sudden pull of the reins nearly bringing the
+spirited animal upon its haunches. The Jehu who had accomplished
+this feat was Francis Ardry. A small beautiful female, with
+flashing eyes, dressed in the extremity of fashion, sat beside him.
+
+'Holloa, friend,' said Francis Ardry, 'whither bound?'
+
+'I do not know,' said I; 'all I can say is, that I am about to
+leave London.'
+
+'And the means?' said Francis Ardry.
+
+'I have them,' said I, with a cheerful smile.
+
+'Qui est celui-ci?' demanded the small female, impatiently.
+
+'C'est--mon ami le plus intime; so you were about to leave London,
+without telling me a word,' said Francis Ardry, somewhat angrily.
+
+'I intended to have written to you,' said I: 'what a splendid mare
+that is.'
+
+'Is she not?' said Francis Ardry, who was holding in the mare with
+difficulty; 'she cost a hundred guineas.'
+
+'Qu'est ce qu'il dit?' demanded his companion.
+
+'Il dit que le jument est bien beau.'
+
+'Allons, mon ami, il est tard,' said the beauty, with a scornful
+toss of her head; 'allons!'
+
+'Encore un moment,' said Francis Ardry; 'and when shall I see you
+again?'
+
+'I scarcely know,' I replied: 'I never saw a more splendid turn
+out.'
+
+'Qu'est ce qu'il dit?' I said the lady again.
+
+'Il dit que tout l'equipage est en assez bon gout.'
+
+'Allons, c'est un ours,' said the lady; 'le cheval meme en a peur,'
+added she, as the mare reared up on high.
+
+'Can you find nothing else to admire but the mare and the
+equipage?' said Francis Ardry, reproachfully, after he had with
+some difficulty brought the mare to order.
+
+Lifting my hand, in which I held my stick, I took off my hat. 'How
+beautiful!' said I, looking the lady full in the face.
+
+'Comment?' said the lady, inquiringly.
+
+'Il dit que vous etes belle comme un ange,' said Francis Ardry,
+emphatically.
+
+'Mais, a la bonne heure! arretez, mon ami,' said the lady to
+Francis Ardry, who was about to drive off; 'je voudrais bien causer
+un moment avec lui; arretez, il est delicieux.--Est-ce bien ainsi
+que vous traitez vos amis?' said she passionately, as Francis Ardry
+lifted up his whip. 'Bon jour, Monsieur, bon jour,' said she,
+thrusting her head from the side and looking back, as Francis Ardry
+drove off at the rate of thirteen miles an hour.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIX
+
+
+
+The milestone--The meditation--Want to get up?--The off-hand
+leader--Sixteen shillings--The near-hand wheeler--All right.
+
+In about two hours I had cleared the Great City, and got beyond the
+suburban villages, or rather towns, in the direction in which I was
+travelling; I was in a broad and excellent road, leading I knew not
+whither. I now slackened my pace, which had hitherto been great.
+Presently, coming to a milestone on which was graven nine miles, I
+rested against it, and looking round towards the vast city, which
+had long ceased to be visible, I fell into a train of meditation.
+
+I thought of all my ways and doings since the day of my first
+arrival in that vast city--I had worked and toiled, and, though I
+had accomplished nothing at all commensurate with the hopes which I
+had entertained previous to my arrival, I had achieved my own
+living, preserved my independence, and become indebted to no one.
+I was now quitting it, poor in purse, it is true, but not wholly
+empty; rather ailing it may be, but not broken in health; and, with
+hope within my bosom, had I not cause upon the whole to be
+thankful? Perhaps there were some who, arriving at the same time
+under not more favourable circumstances, had accomplished much
+more, and whose future was far more hopeful--Good! But there might
+be others who, in spite of all their efforts, had been either
+trodden down in the press, never more to be heard of, or were
+quitting that mighty town broken in purse, broken in health, and,
+oh! with not one dear hope to cheer them. Had I not, upon the
+whole, abundant cause to be grateful? Truly, yes!
+
+My meditation over, I left the milestone and proceeded on my way in
+the same direction as before until the night began to close in. I
+had always been a good pedestrian; but now, whether owing to
+indisposition or to not having for some time past been much in the
+habit of taking such lengthy walks, I began to feel not a little
+weary. Just as I was thinking of putting up for the night at the
+next inn or public-house I should arrive at, I heard what sounded
+like a coach coming up rapidly behind me. Induced, perhaps, by the
+weariness which I felt, I stopped and looked wistfully in the
+direction of the sound; presently up came a coach, seemingly a
+mail, drawn by four bounding horses--there was no one upon it but
+the coachman and the guard; when nearly parallel with me it
+stopped. 'Want to get up?' sounded a voice, in the true coachman-
+like tone--half querulous, half authoritative. I hesitated; I was
+tired, it is true, but I had left London bound on a pedestrian
+excursion, and I did not much like the idea of having recourse to a
+coach after accomplishing so very inconsiderable a distance.
+'Come, we can't be staying here all night,' said the voice, more
+sharply than before. 'I can ride a little way, and get down
+whenever I like,' thought I; and springing forward I clambered up
+the coach, and was going to sit down upon the box, next the
+coachman. 'No, no,' said the coachman, who was a man about thirty,
+with a hooked nose and red face, dressed in a fashionably-cut
+greatcoat, with a fashionable black castor on his head. 'No, no,
+keep behind--the box ain't for the like of you,' said he, as he
+drove off; 'the box is for lords, or gentlemen at least.' I made
+no answer. 'D- that off-hand leader,' said the coachman, as the
+right-hand front horse made a desperate start at something he saw
+in the road; and, half rising, he with great dexterity hit with his
+long whip the off-hand leader a cut on the off cheek. 'These seem
+to be fine horses,' said I. The coachman made no answer. 'Nearly
+thoroughbred,' I continued; the coachman drew his breath, with a
+kind of hissing sound, through his teeth. 'Come, young fellow,
+none of your chaff. Don't you think, because you ride on my mail,
+I'm going to talk to you about 'orses. I talk to nobody about
+'orses except lords.' 'Well,' said I, 'I have been called a lord
+in my time.' 'It must have been by a thimble-rigger, then,' said
+the coachman, bending back, and half turning his face round with a
+broad leer. 'You have hit the mark wonderfully,' said I. 'You
+coachmen, whatever else you may be, are certainly no fools.' 'We
+ain't, ain't we?' said the coachman. 'There you are right; and, to
+show you that you are, I'll now trouble you for your fare. If you
+have been amongst the thimble-riggers you must be tolerably well
+cleared out. Where are you going?--to--? I think I have seen you
+there. The fare is sixteen shillings. Come, tip us the blunt;
+them that has no money can't ride on my mail.'
+
+Sixteen shillings was a large sum, and to pay it would make a
+considerable inroad on my slender finances; I thought, at first,
+that I would say I did not want to go so far; but then the fellow
+would ask at once where I wanted to go, and I was ashamed to
+acknowledge my utter ignorance of the road. I determined,
+therefore, to pay the fare, with a tacit determination not to mount
+a coach in future without knowing whither I was going. So I paid
+the man the money, who, turning round, shouted to the guard--'All
+right, Jem; got fare to--'; and forthwith whipped on his horses,
+especially the off hand leader, for whom he seemed to entertain a
+particular spite, to greater speed than before--the horses flew.
+
+A young moon gave a feeble light, partially illuminating a line of
+road which, appearing by no means interesting, I the less regretted
+having paid my money for the privilege of being hurried along it in
+the flying vehicle. We frequently changed horses; and at last my
+friend the coachman was replaced by another, the very image of
+himself--hawk nose, red face, with narrow-rimmed hat and
+fashionable benjamin. After he had driven about fifty yards, the
+new coachman fell to whipping one of the horses. 'D- this near-
+hand wheeler,' said he, 'the brute has got a corn.' 'Whipping him
+won't cure him of his corn,' said I. 'Who told you to speak?' said
+the driver, with an oath; 'mind your own business; 'tisn't from the
+like of you I am to learn to drive 'orses.' Presently I fell into
+a broken kind of slumber. In an hour or two I was aroused by a
+rough voice--'Got to -, young man; get down if you please.' I
+opened my eyes--there was a dim and indistinct light, like that
+which precedes dawn; the coach was standing still in something like
+a street; just below me stood the guard. 'Do you mean to get
+down,' said he, 'or will you keep us here till morning? other fares
+want to get up.' Scarcely knowing what I did, I took my bundle and
+stick and descended, whilst two people mounted. 'All right, John,'
+said the guard to the coachman, springing up behind; whereupon off
+whisked the coach, one or two individuals who were standing by
+disappeared, and I was left alone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LX
+
+
+
+The still hour--A thrill--The wondrous circle--The shepherd--Heaps
+and barrows--What do you mean?--Milk of the plains--Hengist spared
+it--No presents.
+
+After standing still a minute or two, considering what I should do,
+I moved down what appeared to be the street of a small straggling
+town; presently I passed by a church, which rose indistinctly on my
+right hand; anon there was the rustling of foliage and the rushing
+of waters. I reached a bridge, beneath which a small stream was
+running in the direction of the south. I stopped and leaned over
+the parapet, for I have always loved to look upon streams,
+especially at the still hours. 'What stream is this, I wonder?'
+said I, as I looked down from the parapet into the water, which
+whirled and gurgled below.
+
+Leaving the bridge, I ascended a gentle acclivity, and presently
+reached what appeared to be a tract of moory undulating ground. It
+was now tolerably light, but there was a mist or haze abroad which
+prevented my seeing objects with much precision. I felt chill in
+the damp air of the early morn, and walked rapidly forward. In
+about half an hour I arrived where the road divided into two, at an
+angle or tongue of dark green sward. 'To the right or the left?'
+said I, and forthwith took, without knowing why, the left-hand
+road, along which I proceeded about a hundred yards, when, in the
+midst of the tongue of sward formed by the two roads, collaterally
+with myself, I perceived what I at first conceived to be a small
+grove of blighted trunks of oaks, barked and gray. I stood still
+for a moment, and then, turning off the road, advanced slowly
+towards it over the sward; as I drew nearer, I perceived that the
+objects which had attracted my curiosity, and which formed a kind
+of circle, were not trees, but immense upright stones. A thrill
+pervaded my system; just before me were two, the mightiest of the
+whole, tall as the stems of proud oaks, supporting on their tops a
+huge transverse stone, and forming a wonderful doorway. I knew now
+where I was, and, laying down my stick and bundle, and taking off
+my hat, I advanced slowly, and cast myself--it was folly, perhaps,
+but I could not help what I did--cast myself, with my face on the
+dewy earth, in the middle of the portal of giants, beneath the
+transverse stone.
+
+The spirit of Stonehenge was strong upon me!
+
+And after I had remained with my face on the ground for some time,
+I arose, placed my hat on my head, and, taking up my stick and
+bundle, wandered round the wondrous circle, examining each
+individual stone, from the greatest to the least; and then,
+entering by the great door, seated myself upon an immense broad
+stone, one side of which was supported by several small ones, and
+the other slanted upon the earth; and there, in deep meditation, I
+sat for an hour or two, till the sun shone in my face above the
+tall stones of the eastern side.
+
+And as I still sat there, I heard the noise of bells, and presently
+a large number of sheep came browsing past the circle of stones;
+two or three entered, and grazed upon what they could find, and
+soon a man also entered the circle at the northern side.
+
+'Early here, sir,' said the man, who was tall, and dressed in a
+dark green slop, and had all the appearance of a shepherd; 'a
+traveller, I suppose?'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'I am a traveller; are these sheep yours?'
+
+'They are, sir; that is, they are my master's. A strange place
+this, sir,' said he, looking at the stones; 'ever here before?'
+
+'Never in body, frequently in mind.'
+
+'Heard of the stones, I suppose; no wonder--all the people of the
+plain talk of them.'
+
+'What do the people of the plain say of them?'
+
+'Why, they say--How did they ever come here?'
+
+'Do they not suppose them to have been brought?'
+
+'Who should have brought them?'
+
+'I have read that they were brought by many thousand men.'
+
+'Where from?'
+
+'Ireland.'
+
+'How did they bring them?'
+
+'I don't know.'
+
+'And what did they bring them for?'
+
+'To form a temple, perhaps.'
+
+'What is that?'
+
+'A place to worship God in.'
+
+'A strange place to worship God in.'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'It has no roof.'
+
+'Yes, it has.'
+
+'Where?' said the man, looking up.
+
+'What do you see above you?'
+
+'The sky.'
+
+'Well?'
+
+'Well!'
+
+'Have you anything to say?'
+
+'How did these stones come here?'
+
+'Are there other stones like these on the plains?' said I.
+
+'None; and yet there are plenty of strange things on these downs.'
+
+'What are they?'
+
+'Strange heaps, and barrows, and great walls of earth built on the
+tops of hills.'
+
+'Do the people of the plain wonder how they came there?'
+
+'They do not.'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'They were raised by hands.'
+
+'And these stones?'
+
+'How did they ever come here?'
+
+'I wonder whether they are here?' said I.
+
+'These stones?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'So sure as the world,' said the man; 'and, as the world, they will
+stand as long.'
+
+'I wonder whether there is a world.'
+
+'What do you mean?'
+
+'An earth, and sea, moon and stars, sheep and men.'
+
+'Do you doubt it?'
+
+'Sometimes.'
+
+'I never heard it doubted before.'
+
+'It is impossible there should be a world.'
+
+'It ain't possible there shouldn't be a world.'
+
+'Just so.' At this moment a fine ewe, attended by a lamb, rushed
+into the circle and fondled the knees of the shepherd. 'I suppose
+you would not care to have some milk,' said the man.
+
+'Why do you suppose so?'
+
+'Because, so be there be no sheep, no milk, you know; and what
+there ben't is not worth having.'
+
+'You could not have argued better,' said I; 'that is, supposing you
+have argued; with respect to the milk you may do as you please.'
+
+'Be still, Nanny,' said the man; and producing a tin vessel from
+his scrip, he milked the ewe into it. 'Here is milk of the plains,
+master,' said the man, as he handed the vessel to me.
+
+'Where are those barrows and great walls of earth you were speaking
+of?' said I, after I had drunk some of the milk; 'are there any
+near where we are?'
+
+'Not within many miles; the nearest is yonder away,' said the
+shepherd, pointing to the south-east. 'It's a grand place, that,
+but not like this; quite different, and from it you have a sight of
+the finest spire in the world.'
+
+'I must go to it,' said I, and I drank the remainder of the milk;
+'yonder, you say.'
+
+'Yes, yonder; but you cannot get to it in that direction, the river
+lies between.'
+
+'What river?'
+
+'The Avon.'
+
+'Avon is British,' said I.
+
+'Yes,' said the man, 'we are all British here.'
+
+'No, we are not,' said I.
+
+'What are we then?'
+
+'English.'
+
+'Ain't they one?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'Who were the British?'
+
+'The men who are supposed to have worshipped God in this place, and
+who raised these stones.'
+
+'Where are they now?'
+
+'Our forefathers slaughtered them, spilled their blood all about,
+especially in this neighbourhood, destroyed their pleasant places,
+and left not, to use their own words, one stone upon another.'
+
+'Yes, they did,' said the shepherd, looking aloft at the transverse
+stone.
+
+'And it is well for them they did; whenever that stone, which
+English hands never raised, is by English hands thrown down, woe,
+woe, woe to the English race; spare it, English! Hengist spared
+it!--Here is sixpence.'
+
+'I won't have it,' said the man.
+
+'Why not?'
+
+'You talk so prettily about these stones; you seem to know all
+about them.'
+
+'I never receive presents; with respect to the stones, I say with
+yourself, How did they ever come here?'
+
+'How did they ever come here?' said the shepherd.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXI
+
+
+
+The river--Arid downs--A prospect.
+
+Leaving the shepherd, I bent my way in the direction pointed out by
+him as that in which the most remarkable of the strange remains of
+which he had spoken lay. I proceeded rapidly, making my way over
+the downs covered with coarse grass and fern; with respect to the
+river of which he had spoken, I reflected that, either by wading or
+swimming, I could easily transfer myself and what I bore to the
+opposite side. On arriving at its banks, I found it a beautiful
+stream, but shallow, with here and there a deep place where the
+water ran dark and still.
+
+Always fond of the pure lymph, I undressed, and plunged into one of
+these gulfs, from which I emerged, my whole frame in a glow, and
+tingling with delicious sensations. After conveying my clothes and
+scanty baggage to the farther side, I dressed, and then with
+hurried steps bent my course in the direction of some lofty ground;
+I at length found myself on a high-road, leading over wide and arid
+downs; following the road for some miles without seeing anything
+remarkable, I supposed at length that I had taken the wrong path,
+and wended on slowly and disconsolately for some time, till, having
+nearly surmounted a steep hill, I knew at once, from certain
+appearances, that I was near the object of my search. Turning to
+the right near the brow of the hill, I proceeded along a path which
+brought me to a causeway leading over a deep ravine, and connecting
+the hill with another which had once formed part of it, for the
+ravine was evidently the work of art. I passed over the causeway,
+and found myself in a kind of gateway which admitted me into a
+square space of many acres, surrounded on all sides by mounds or
+ramparts of earth. Though I had never been in such a place before,
+I knew that I stood within the precincts of what had been a Roman
+encampment, and one probably of the largest size, for many thousand
+warriors might have found room to perform their evolutions in that
+space, in which corn was now growing, the green ears waving in the
+morning wind.
+
+After I had gazed about the space for a time, standing in the
+gateway formed by the mounds, I clambered up the mound to the left
+hand, and on the top of that mound I found myself at a great
+altitude; beneath, at the distance of a mile, was a fair old city,
+situated amongst verdant meadows, watered with streams, and from
+the heart of that old city, from amidst mighty trees, I beheld
+towering to the sky the finest spire in the world.
+
+And after I had looked from the Roman rampart for a long time, I
+hurried away, and, retracing my steps along the cause-way, regained
+the road, and, passing over the brow of the hill, descended to the
+city of the spire.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXII
+
+
+
+The hostelry--Life uncertain--Open countenance--The grand point--
+Thank you, master--A hard mother--Poor dear!--Considerable odds--
+The better country--English fashion--Landlord-looking person.
+
+And in the old city I remained two days, passing my time as I best
+could--inspecting the curiosities of the place, eating and drinking
+when I felt so disposed, which I frequently did, the digestive
+organs having assumed a tone to which for many months they had been
+strangers--enjoying at night balmy sleep in a large bed in a dusky
+room, at the end of a corridor, in a certain hostelry in which I
+had taken up my quarters--receiving from the people of the hostelry
+such civility and condescension as people who travel on foot with
+bundle and stick, but who nevertheless are perceived to be not
+altogether destitute of coin, are in the habit of receiving. On
+the third day, on a fine sunny afternoon, I departed from the city
+of the spire.
+
+As I was passing through one of the suburbs, I saw, all on a
+sudden, a respectable-looking female fall down in a fit; several
+persons hastened to her assistance. 'She is dead,' said one. 'No,
+she is not,' said another. 'I am afraid she is,' said a third.
+'Life is very uncertain,' said a fourth. 'It is Mrs. -,' said a
+fifth; 'let us carry her to her own house.' Not being able to
+render any assistance, I left the poor female in the hands of her
+townsfolk, and proceeded on my way. I had chosen a road in the
+direction of the north-west, it led over downs where corn was
+growing, but where neither tree nor hedge was to be seen; two or
+three hours' walking brought me to a beautiful valley, abounding
+with trees of various kinds, with a delightful village at its
+farthest extremity; passing through it, I ascended a lofty
+acclivity, on the top of which I sat down on a bank, and, taking
+off my hat, permitted a breeze, which swept coolly and refreshingly
+over the downs, to dry my hair, dripping from the effects of
+exercise and the heat of the day.
+
+And as I sat there, gazing now at the blue heavens, now at the
+downs before me, a man came along the road in the direction in
+which I had hitherto been proceeding: just opposite to me he
+stopped, and, looking at me, cried--'Am I right for London,
+master?'
+
+He was dressed like a sailor, and appeared to be between twenty-
+five and thirty years of age--he had an open manly countenance, and
+there was a bold and fearless expression in his eye.
+
+'Yes,' said I, in reply to his question; 'this is one of the ways
+to London. Do you come from far?'
+
+'From -,' said the man, naming a well-known seaport.
+
+'Is this the direct road to London from that place?' I demanded.
+
+'No,' said the man; 'but I had to visit two or three other places
+on certain commissions I was intrusted with; amongst others to -,
+where I had to take a small sum of money. I am rather tired,
+master; and, if you please, I will sit down beside you.'
+
+'You have as much right to sit down here as I have,' said I; 'the
+road is free for every one; as for sitting down beside me, you have
+the look of an honest man, and I have no objection to your
+company.'
+
+'Why, as for being honest, master,' said the man, laughing and
+sitting down by me, 'I haven't much to say--many is the wild thing
+I have done when I was younger; however, what is done, is done. To
+learn, one must live, master; and I have lived long enough to learn
+the grand point of wisdom.'
+
+'What is that?' said I.
+
+'That honesty is the best policy, master.'
+
+'You appear to be a sailor,' said I, looking at his dress.
+
+'I was not bred a sailor,' said the man, 'though, when my foot is
+on the salt water, I can play the part--and play it well too. I am
+now from a long voyage.'
+
+'From America?' said I.
+
+'Farther than that,' said the man.
+
+'Have you any objection to tell me?' said I.
+
+'From New South Wales,' said the man, looking me full in the face.
+
+'Dear me,' said I.
+
+'Why do you say "Dear me"?' said the man.
+
+'It is a very long way off,' said I.
+
+'Was that your reason for saying so?' said the man.
+
+'Not exactly,' said I.
+
+'No,' said the man, with something of a bitter smile; 'it was
+something else that made you say so; you were thinking of the
+convicts.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'what then--you are no convict.'
+
+'How do you know?'
+
+'You do not look like one.'
+
+'Thank you, master,' said the man cheerfully; 'and, to a certain
+extent, you are right--bygones are bygones--I am no longer what I
+was, nor ever will be again; the truth, however, is the truth--a
+convict I have been--a convict at Sydney Cove.'
+
+'And you have served out the period for which you were sentenced,
+and are now returned?'
+
+'As to serving out my sentence,' replied the man, 'I can't say that
+I did; I was sentenced for fourteen years, and I was in Sydney Cove
+little more than half that time. The truth is that I did the
+Government a service. There was a conspiracy amongst some of the
+convicts to murder and destroy--I overheard and informed the
+Government; mind one thing, however, I was not concerned in it;
+those who got it up were no comrades of mine, but a bloody gang of
+villains. Well, the Government, in consideration of the service I
+had done them, remitted the remainder of my sentence; and some kind
+gentlemen interested themselves about me, gave me good books and
+good advice, and, being satisfied with my conduct, procured me
+employ in an exploring expedition, by which I earned money. In
+fact, the being sent to Sydney was the best thing that ever
+happened to me in all my life.'
+
+'And you have now returned to your native country. Longing to see
+home brought you from New South Wales.'
+
+'There you are mistaken,' said the man. 'Wish to see England again
+would never have brought me so far; for, to tell you the truth,
+master, England was a hard mother to me, as she has proved to many.
+No, a wish to see another kind of mother--a poor old woman, whose
+son I am--has brought me back.'
+
+'You have a mother, then?' said I. 'Does she reside in London?'
+
+'She used to live in London,' said the man; 'but I am afraid she is
+long since dead.'
+
+'How did she support herself?' said I.
+
+'Support herself! with difficulty enough; she used to keep a small
+stall on London Bridge, where she sold fruit; I am afraid she is
+dead, and that she died perhaps in misery. She was a poor sinful
+creature; but I loved her, and she loved me. I came all the way
+back merely for the chance of seeing her.'
+
+'Did you ever write to her,' said I, 'or cause others to write to
+her?'
+
+'I wrote to her myself,' said the man, 'about two years ago; but I
+never received an answer. I learned to write very tolerably over
+there, by the assistance of the good people I spoke of. As for
+reading, I could do that very well before I went--my poor mother
+taught me to read, out of a book that she was very fond of; a
+strange book it was, I remember. Poor dear!--what I would give
+only to know that she is alive.'
+
+'Life is very uncertain,' said I.
+
+'That is true,' said the man, with a sigh.
+
+'We are here one moment, and gone the next,' I continued. 'As I
+passed through the streets of a neighbouring town, I saw a
+respectable woman drop down, and people said she was dead. Who
+knows but that she too had a son coming to see her from a distance,
+at that very time?'
+
+'Who knows, indeed?' said the man. 'Ah, I am afraid my mother is
+dead. Well, God's will be done.'
+
+'However,' said I, 'I should not wonder at your finding your mother
+alive.'
+
+'You wouldn't?' said the man, looking at me wistfully.
+
+'I should not wonder at all,' said I; 'indeed, something within me
+seems to tell me you will; I should not much mind betting five
+shillings to fivepence that you will see your mother within a week.
+Now, friend, five shillings to fivepence--'
+
+'Is very considerable odds,' said the man, rubbing his hands; 'sure
+you must have good reason to hope, when you are willing to give
+such odds.'
+
+'After all,' said I, 'it not unfrequently happens that those who
+lay the long odds lose. Let us hope, however. What do you mean to
+do in the event of finding your mother alive?'
+
+'I scarcely know,' said the man; 'I have frequently thought that if
+I found my mother alive I would attempt to persuade her to
+accompany me to the country which I have left--it is a better
+country for a man--that is, a free man--to live in than this;
+however, let me first find my mother--if I could only find my
+mother--'
+
+'Farewell,' said I, rising. 'Go your way, and God go with you--I
+will go mine.' 'I have but one thing to ask you,' said the man.
+'What is that?' I inquired. 'That you would drink with me before
+we part--you have done me so much good.' 'How should we drink?'
+said I; 'we are on the top of a hill where there is nothing to
+drink.' 'But there is a village below,' said the man; 'do let us
+drink before we part.' 'I have been through that village already,'
+said I, 'and I do not like turning back.' 'Ah,' said the man,
+sorrowfully, 'you will not drink with me because I told you I was--
+' 'You are quite mistaken,' said I, 'I would as soon drink with a
+convict as with a judge. I am by no means certain that, under the
+same circumstances, the judge would be one whit better than the
+convict. Come along! I will go back to oblige you. I have an odd
+sixpence in my pocket, which I will change that I may drink with
+you.' So we went down the hill together to the village through
+which I had already passed, where, finding a public-house, we drank
+together in true English fashion, after which we parted, the
+sailor-looking man going his way and I mine.
+
+After walking about a dozen miles, I came to a town, where I rested
+for the night. The next morning I set out again in the direction
+of the north-west. I continued journeying for four days, my daily
+journeys varying from twenty to twenty-five miles. During this
+time nothing occurred to me worthy of any especial notice. The
+weather was brilliant, and I rapidly improved both in strength and
+spirits. On the fifth day, about two o'clock, I arrived at a small
+town. Feeling hungry, I entered a decent-looking inn--within a
+kind of bar I saw a huge, fat, landlord-looking person, with a very
+pretty, smartly-dressed maiden. Addressing myself to the fat man,
+'House!' said I, 'house! Can I have dinner, house?'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXIII
+
+
+
+Primitive habits--Rosy-faced damsel--A pleasant moment--Suit of
+black--The furtive glance--The mighty round--Degenerate times--The
+newspaper--The evil chance--I congratulate you.
+
+'Young gentleman,' said the huge fat landlord, 'you are come at the
+right time; dinner will be taken up in a few minutes, and such a
+dinner,' he continued, rubbing his hands, 'as you will not see
+every day in these times.'
+
+'I am hot and dusty,' said I, 'and should wish to cool my hands and
+face.'
+
+'Jenny!' said the huge landlord, with the utmost gravity, 'show the
+gentleman into number seven, that he may wash his hands and face.'
+
+'By no means,' said I, 'I am a person of primitive habits, and
+there is nothing like the pump in weather like this.'
+
+'Jenny,' said the landlord, with the same gravity as before, 'go
+with the young gentleman to the pump in the back kitchen, and take
+a clean towel along with you.'
+
+Thereupon the rosy-faced clean-looking damsel went to a drawer, and
+producing a large, thick, but snowy white towel, she nodded to me
+to follow her; whereupon I followed Jenny through a long passage
+into the back kitchen.
+
+And at the end of the back kitchen there stood a pump; and going to
+it I placed my hands beneath the spout, and said, 'Pump, Jenny';
+and Jenny incontinently, without laying down the towel, pumped with
+one hand, and I washed and cooled my heated hands.
+
+And, when my hands were washed and cooled, I took off my neckcloth,
+and, unbuttoning my shirt collar, I placed my head beneath the
+spout of the pump, and I said unto Jenny, 'Now, Jenny, lay down the
+towel, and pump for your life.'
+
+Thereupon Jenny, placing the towel on a linen-horse, took the
+handle of the pump with both hands and pumped over my head as
+handmaid had never pumped before; so that the water poured in
+torrents from my head, my face, and my hair down upon the brick
+floor.
+
+And, after the lapse of somewhat more than a minute, I called out
+with a half-strangled voice, 'Hold, Jenny!' and Jenny desisted. I
+stood for a few moments to recover my breath, then taking the towel
+which Jenny proffered, I dried composedly my hands and head, my
+face and hair; then, returning the towel to Jenny, I gave a deep
+sigh and said, 'Surely this is one of the pleasant moments of
+life.'
+
+Then, having set my dress to rights, and combed my hair with a
+pocket comb, I followed Jenny, who conducted me back through the
+long passage, and showed me into a neat sanded parlour on the
+ground-floor.
+
+I sat down by a window which looked out upon the dusty street;
+presently in came the handmaid, and commenced laying the table-
+cloth. 'Shall I spread the table for one, sir,' said she, 'or do
+you expect anybody to dine with you?' 'I can't say that I expect
+anybody,' said I, laughing inwardly to myself; 'however, if you
+please you can lay for two, so that if any acquaintance of mine
+should chance to step in, he may find a knife and fork ready for
+him.'
+
+So I sat by the window, sometimes looking out upon the dusty
+street, and now glancing at certain old-fashioned prints which
+adorned the wall over against me. I fell into a kind of doze, from
+which I was almost instantly awakened by the opening of the door.
+Dinner, thought I; and I sat upright in my chair. No; a man of the
+middle age, and rather above the middle height, dressed in a plain
+suit of black, made his appearance, and sat down in a chair at some
+distance from me, but near to the table, and appeared to be lost in
+thought.
+
+'The weather is very warm, sir,' said I.
+
+'Very,' said the stranger, laconically, looking at me for the first
+time.
+
+'Would you like to see the newspaper?' said I, taking up one which
+lay upon the window seat.
+
+'I never read newspapers,' said the stranger, 'nor, indeed,--'
+Whatever it might be that he had intended to say he left
+unfinished. Suddenly he walked to the mantelpiece at the farther
+end of the room, before which he placed himself with his back
+towards me. There he remained motionless for some time; at length,
+raising his hand, he touched the corner of the mantelpiece with his
+finger, advanced towards the chair which he had left, and again
+seated himself.
+
+'Have you come far?' said he, suddenly looking towards me, and
+speaking in a frank and open manner, which denoted a wish to enter
+into conversation. 'You do not seem to be of this place.'
+
+'I come from some distance,' said I; 'indeed, I am walking for
+exercise, which I find as necessary to the mind as the body. I
+believe that by exercise people would escape much mental misery.'
+
+Scarcely had I uttered these words when the stranger laid his hand,
+with seeming carelessness, upon the table, near one of the glasses;
+after a moment or two he touched the glass with his finger as if
+inadvertently, then, glancing furtively at me, he withdrew his hand
+and looked towards the window.
+
+'Are you from these parts?' said I at last, with apparent
+carelessness.
+
+'From this vicinity,' replied the stranger. 'You think, then, that
+it is as easy to walk off the bad humours of the mind as of the
+body?'
+
+'I, at least, am walking in that hope,' said I.
+
+'I wish you may be successful,' said the stranger; and here he
+touched one of the forks which lay on the table near him.
+
+Here the door, which was slightly ajar, was suddenly pushed open
+with some fracas, and in came the stout landlord, supporting with
+some difficulty an immense dish, in which was a mighty round mass
+of smoking meat garnished all round with vegetables; so high was
+the mass that it probably obstructed his view, for it was not until
+he had placed it upon the table that he appeared to observe the
+stranger; he almost started, and quite out of breath exclaimed,
+'God bless me, your honour; is your honour the acquaintance that
+the young gentleman was expecting?'
+
+'Is the young gentleman expecting an acquaintance?' said the
+stranger.
+
+There is nothing like putting a good face upon these matters,
+thought I to myself; and, getting up, I bowed to the unknown.
+'Sir,' said I, 'when I told Jenny that she might lay the table-
+cloth for two, so that in the event of any acquaintance dropping in
+he might find a knife and fork ready for him, I was merely jocular,
+being an entire stranger in these parts, and expecting no one.
+Fortune, however, it would seem, has been unexpectedly kind to me;
+I flatter myself, sir, that since you have been in this room I have
+had the honour of making your acquaintance; and in the strength of
+that hope I humbly entreat you to honour me with your company to
+dinner, provided you have not already dined.'
+
+The stranger laughed outright.
+
+'Sir,' I continued, 'the round of beef is a noble one, and seems
+exceedingly well boiled, and the landlord was just right when he
+said I should have such a dinner as is not seen every day. A round
+of beef, at any rate such a round of beef as this, is seldom seen
+smoking upon the table in these degenerate times. Allow me, sir,'
+said I, observing that the stranger was about to speak, 'allow me
+another remark. I think I saw you just now touch the fork; I
+venture to hail it as an omen that you will presently seize it, and
+apply it to its proper purpose, and its companion the knife also.'
+
+The stranger changed colour, and gazed upon me in silence.
+
+'Do, sir,' here put in the landlord; 'do, sir, accept the young
+gentleman's invitation. Your honour has of late been looking
+poorly, and the young gentleman is a funny young gentleman, and a
+clever young gentleman; and I think it will do your honour good to
+have a dinner's chat with the young gentleman.'
+
+'It is not my dinner hour,' said the stranger; 'I dine considerably
+later; taking anything now would only discompose me; I shall,
+however, be most happy to sit down with the young gentleman; reach
+me that paper, and, when the young gentleman has satisfied his
+appetite, we may perhaps have a little chat together.'
+
+The landlord handed the stranger the newspaper, and, bowing,
+retired with his maid Jenny. I helped myself to a portion of the
+smoking round, and commenced eating with no little appetite. The
+stranger appeared to be soon engrossed with the newspaper. We
+continued thus a considerable time--the one reading and the other
+dining. Chancing suddenly to cast my eyes upon the stranger, I saw
+his brow contract; he gave a slight stamp with his foot, and flung
+the newspaper to the ground, then stooping down he picked it up,
+first moving his forefinger along the floor, seemingly slightly
+scratching it with his nail.
+
+'Do you hope, sir,' said I, 'by that ceremony with the finger to
+preserve yourself from the evil chance?'
+
+The stranger started; then, after looking at me for some time in
+silence, he said, 'Is it possible that you--?'
+
+'Ay, ay,' said I, helping myself to some more of the round; 'I have
+touched myself in my younger days, both for the evil chance and the
+good. Can't say, though, that I ever trusted much in the
+ceremony.'
+
+The stranger made no reply, but appeared to be in deep thought;
+nothing farther passed between us until I had concluded the dinner,
+when I said to him, 'I shall now be most happy, sir, to have the
+pleasure of your conversation over a pint of wine.'
+
+The stranger rose; 'No, my young friend,' said he, smiling, 'that
+would scarce be fair. It is my turn now--pray do me the favour to
+go home with me, and accept what hospitality my poor roof can
+offer; to tell you the truth, I wish to have some particular
+discourse with you which would hardly be possible in this place.
+As for wine, I can give you some much better than you can get here:
+the landlord is an excellent fellow, but he is an innkeeper after
+all. I am going out for a moment, and will send him in, so that
+you may settle your account; I trust you will not refuse me, I only
+live about two miles from here.'
+
+I looked in the face of the stranger--it was a fine intelligent
+face, with a cast of melancholy in it. 'Sir,' said I, 'I would go
+with you though you lived four miles instead of two.'
+
+'Who is that gentleman?' said I to the landlord, after I had
+settled his bill; 'I am going home with him.'
+
+'I wish I were going too,' said the fat landlord, laying his hand
+upon his stomach. 'Young gentleman, I shall be a loser by his
+honour's taking you away; but, after all, the truth is the truth--
+there are few gentlemen in these parts like his honour, either for
+learning or welcoming his friends. Young gentleman, I congratulate
+you.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXIV
+
+
+
+New acquaintance--Old French style--The portrait--Taciturnity--The
+evergreen tree--The dark hour--The flash--Ancestors--A fortunate
+man--A posthumous child--Antagonist ideas--The hawks--Flaws--The
+pony--Irresistible impulse--Favourable crisis--The topmost branch--
+Twenty feet--Heartily ashamed.
+
+I found the stranger awaiting me at the door of the inn. 'Like
+yourself, I am fond of walking,' said he, 'and when any little
+business calls me to this place I generally come on foot.'
+
+We were soon out of the town, and in a very beautiful country.
+After proceeding some distance on the high-road, we turned off, and
+were presently in one of those mazes of lanes for which England is
+famous; the stranger at first seemed inclined to be taciturn; a few
+observations, however, which I made appeared to rouse him, and he
+soon exhibited not only considerable powers of conversation, but
+stores of information which surprised me. So pleased did I become
+with my new acquaintance that I soon ceased to pay the slightest
+attention either to place or distance. At length the stranger was
+silent, and I perceived that we had arrived at a handsome iron gate
+and a lodge; the stranger having rung a bell, the gate was opened
+by an old man, and we proceeded along a gravel path, which in about
+five minutes brought us to a large brick house, built something in
+the old French style, having a spacious lawn before it, and
+immediately in front a pond in which were golden fish, and in the
+middle a stone swan discharging quantities of water from its bill.
+We ascended a spacious flight of steps to the door, which was at
+once flung open, and two servants with powdered hair and in livery
+of blue plush came out and stood one on either side as we passed
+the threshold. We entered a large hall, and the stranger, taking
+me by the hand, welcomed me to his poor home, as he called it, and
+then gave orders to another servant, but out of livery, to show me
+to an apartment, and give me whatever assistance I might require in
+my toilet. Notwithstanding the plea as to primitive habits which I
+had lately made to my other host in the town, I offered no
+objection to this arrangement, but followed the bowing domestic to
+a spacious and airy chamber, where he rendered me all those little
+nameless offices which the somewhat neglected state of my dress
+required. When everything had been completed to my perfect
+satisfaction, he told me that if I pleased he would conduct me to
+the library, where dinner would be speedily served.
+
+In the library I found a table laid for two; my host was not there,
+having as I supposed not been quite so speedy with his toilet as
+his guest. Left alone, I looked round the apartment with inquiring
+eyes; it was long and tolerably lofty, the walls from the top to
+the bottom were lined with cases containing books of all sizes and
+bindings; there was a globe or two, a couch, and an easy-chair.
+Statues and busts there were none, and only one painting, a
+portrait, that of my host, but not him of the mansion. Over the
+mantelpiece, the features staringly like, but so ridiculously
+exaggerated that they scarcely resembled those of a human being,
+daubed evidently by the hand of the commonest sign-artist, hung a
+half-length portrait of him of round of beef celebrity--my sturdy
+host of the town.
+
+I had been in the library about ten minutes, amusing myself as I
+best could, when my friend entered; he seemed to have resumed his
+taciturnity--scarce a word escaped his lips till dinner was served,
+when he said, smiling, 'I suppose it would be merely a compliment
+to ask you to partake?'
+
+'I don't know,' said I, seating myself; 'your first course consists
+of troutlets, I am fond of troutlets, and I always like to be
+companionable.'
+
+The dinner was excellent, though I did but little justice to it
+from the circumstance of having already dined; the stranger also,
+though without my excuse, partook but slightly of the good cheer;
+he still continued taciturn, and appeared lost in thought, and
+every attempt which I made to induce him to converse was signally
+unsuccessful.
+
+And now dinner was removed, and we sat over our wine, and I
+remember that the wine was good, and fully justified the encomiums
+of my host of the town. Over the wine I made sure that my
+entertainer would have loosened the chain which seemed to tie his
+tongue--but no! I endeavoured to tempt him by various topics, and
+talked of geometry and the use of the globes, of the heavenly
+sphere, and the star Jupiter, which I said I had heard was a very
+large star, also of the evergreen tree, which, according to Olaus,
+stood of old before the heathen temple of Upsal, and which I
+affirmed was a yew--but no, nothing that I said could induce my
+entertainer to relax his taciturnity.
+
+It grew dark, and I became uncomfortable. 'I must presently be
+going,' I at last exclaimed.
+
+At these words he gave a sudden start; 'Going,' said he, 'are you
+not my guest, and an honoured one?'
+
+'You know best,' said I; 'but I was apprehensive I was an intruder;
+to several of my questions you have returned no answer.'
+
+'Ten thousand pardons!' he exclaimed, seizing me by the hand; 'but
+you cannot go now, I have much to talk to you about--there is one
+thing in particular--'
+
+'If it be the evergreen tree at Upsal,' said I, interrupting him,
+'I hold it to have been a yew--what else? The evergreens of the
+south, as the old bishop observes, will not grow in the north, and
+a pine was unfitted for such a locality, being a vulgar tree. What
+else could it have been but the yew--the sacred yew which our
+ancestors were in the habit of planting in their churchyards?
+Moreover, I affirm it to have been the yew for the honour of the
+tree; for I love the yew, and had I home and land, I would have one
+growing before my front windows.'
+
+'You would do right, the yew is indeed a venerable tree, but it is
+not about the yew.'
+
+'The star Jupiter, perhaps?'
+
+'Nor the star Jupiter, nor its moons; an observation which escaped
+you at the inn has made a considerable impression upon me.'
+
+'But I really must take my departure,' said I; 'the dark hour is at
+hand.'
+
+And as I uttered these latter words the stranger touched rapidly
+something which lay near him--I forget what it was. It was the
+first action of the kind which I had observed on his part since we
+sat down to table.
+
+'You allude to the evil chance,' said I; 'but it is getting both
+dark and late.'
+
+'I believe we are going to have a storm,' said my friend, 'but I
+really hope that you will give me your company for a day or two; I
+have, as I said before, much to talk to you about.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'I shall be most happy to be your guest for this
+night; I am ignorant of the country, and it is not pleasant to
+travel unknown paths by night--dear me, what a flash of lightning.'
+
+It had become very dark; suddenly a blaze of sheet lightning
+illumed the room. By the momentary light I distinctly saw my host
+touch another object upon the table.
+
+'Will you allow me to ask you a question or two?' said he at last.
+
+'As many as you please,' said I; 'but shall we not have lights?'
+
+'Not unless you particularly wish it,' said my entertainer; 'I
+rather like the dark, and though a storm is evidently at hand,
+neither thunder nor lightning has any terrors for me. It is other
+things I quake at--I should rather say ideas. Now permit me to ask
+you--'
+
+And then my entertainer asked me various questions, to all of which
+I answered unreservedly; he was then silent for some time, at last
+he exclaimed, 'I should wish to tell you the history of my life--
+though not an adventurous one, I think it contains some things
+which will interest you.'
+
+Without waiting for my reply he began. Amidst darkness and gloom,
+occasionally broken by flashes of lightning, the stranger related
+to me, as we sat at table in the library, his truly touching
+history.
+
+'Before proceeding to relate the events of my life, it will not be
+amiss to give you some account of my ancestors. My great-
+grandfather on the male side was a silk mercer, in Cheapside, who,
+when he died, left his son, who was his only child, a fortune of
+one hundred thousand pounds and a splendid business; the son,
+however, had no inclination for trade, the summit of his ambition
+was to be a country gentleman, to found a family, and to pass the
+remainder of his days in rural ease and dignity, and all this he
+managed to accomplish; he disposed of his business, purchased a
+beautiful and extensive estate for fourscore thousand pounds, built
+upon it the mansion to which I had the honour of welcoming you to-
+day, married the daughter of a neighbouring squire, who brought him
+a fortune of five thousand pounds, became a magistrate, and only
+wanted a son and heir to make him completely happy; this blessing,
+it is true, was for a long time denied him; it came, however, at
+last, as is usual, when least expected. His lady was brought to
+bed of my father, and then who so happy a man as my grandsire; he
+gave away two thousand pounds in charities, and in the joy of his
+heart made a speech at the next quarter sessions; the rest of his
+life was spent in ease, tranquillity, and rural dignity; he died of
+apoplexy on the day that my father came of age; perhaps it would be
+difficult to mention a man who in all respects was so fortunate as
+my grandfather: his death was sudden it is true, but I am not one
+of those who pray to be delivered from a sudden death.
+
+'I should not call my father a fortunate man; it is true that he
+had the advantage of a first-rate education; that he made the grand
+tour with a private tutor, as was the fashion at that time; that he
+came to a splendid fortune on the very day that he came of age;
+that for many years he tasted all the diversions of the capital
+that, at last determined to settle, he married the sister of a
+baronet, an amiable and accomplished lady, with a large fortune;
+that he had the best stud of hunters in the county, on which,
+during the season, he followed the fox gallantly; had he been a
+fortunate man he would never have cursed his fate, as he was
+frequently known to do; ten months after his marriage his horse
+fell upon him, and so injured him, that he expired in a few days in
+great agony. My grandfather was, indeed, a fortunate man; when he
+died he was followed to the grave by the tears of the poor--my
+father was not.
+
+'Two remarkable circumstances are connected with my birth--I am a
+posthumous child, and came into the world some weeks before the
+usual time, the shock which my mother experienced at my father's
+death having brought on the pangs of premature labour; both my
+mother's life and my own were at first despaired of; we both,
+however, survived the crisis. My mother loved me with the most
+passionate fondness, and I was brought up in this house under her
+own eye--I was never sent to school.
+
+'I have already told you that mine is not a tale of adventure; my
+life has not been one of action, but of wild imaginings and strange
+sensations; I was born with excessive sensibility, and that has
+been my bane. I have not been a fortunate man.
+
+'No one is fortunate unless he is happy, and it is impossible for a
+being constructed like myself to be happy for an hour, or even
+enjoy peace and tranquillity; most of our pleasures and pains are
+the effects of imagination, and wherever the sensibility is great,
+the imagination is great also. No sooner has my imagination raised
+up an image of pleasure, than it is sure to conjure up one of
+distress and gloom; these two antagonist ideas instantly commence a
+struggle in my mind, and the gloomy one generally, I may say
+invariably, prevails. How is it possible that I should be a happy
+man?
+
+'It has invariably been so with me from the earliest period that I
+can remember; the first playthings that were given me caused me for
+a few minutes excessive pleasure: they were pretty and glittering;
+presently, however, I became anxious and perplexed, I wished to
+know their history, how they were made, and what of--were the
+materials precious? I was not satisfied with their outward
+appearance. In less than an hour I had broken the playthings in an
+attempt to discover what they were made of.
+
+'When I was eight years of age my uncle the baronet, who was also
+my godfather, sent me a pair of Norway hawks, with directions for
+managing them; he was a great fowler. Oh, how rejoiced was I with
+the present which had been made me, my joy lasted for at least five
+minutes; I would let them breed, I would have a house of hawks;
+yes, that I would--but--and here came the unpleasant idea--suppose
+they were to flyaway, how very annoying! Ah, but, said hope,
+there's little fear of that; feed them well and they will never fly
+away, or if they do they will come back, my uncle says so; so
+sunshine triumphed for a little time. Then the strangest of all
+doubts came into my head; I doubted the legality of my tenure of
+these hawks; how did I come by them? why, my uncle gave them to me,
+but how did they come into his possession? what right had he to
+them? after all, they might not be his to give. I passed a
+sleepless night. The next morning I found that the man who brought
+the hawks had not departed. "How came my uncle by these hawks?" I
+anxiously inquired. "They were sent to him from Norway, master,
+with another pair." "And who sent them?" "That I don't know,
+master, but I suppose his honour can tell you." I was even
+thinking of scrawling a letter to my uncle to make inquiry on this
+point, but shame restrained me, and I likewise reflected that it
+would be impossible for him to give my mind entire satisfaction; it
+is true he could tell who sent him the hawks, but how was he to
+know how the hawks came into the possession of those who sent them
+to him, and by what right they possessed them or the parents of the
+hawks? In a word, I wanted a clear valid title, as lawyers would
+say, to my hawks, and I believe no title would have satisfied me
+that did not extend up to the time of the first hawk, that is,
+prior to Adam; and, could I have obtained such a title, I make no
+doubt that, young as I was, I should have suspected that it was
+full of flaws.
+
+'I was now disgusted with the hawks, and no wonder, seeing all the
+disquietude they had caused me; I soon totally neglected the poor
+birds, and they would have starved had not some of the servants
+taken compassion upon them and fed them. My uncle, soon hearing of
+my neglect, was angry, and took the birds away; he was a very good-
+natured man, however, and soon sent me a fine pony; at first I was
+charmed with the pony, soon, however, the same kind of thoughts
+arose which had disgusted me on a former occasion. How did my
+uncle become possessed of the pony? This question I asked him the
+first time I saw him. Oh, he had bought it of a gypsy, that I
+might learn to ride upon it. A gypsy; I had heard that gypsies
+were great thieves, and I instantly began to fear that the gypsy
+had stolen the pony, and it is probable that for this apprehension
+I had better grounds than for many others. I instantly ceased to
+set any value upon the pony, but for that reason, perhaps, I turned
+it to some account; I mounted it and rode it about, which I don't
+think I should have done had I looked upon it as a secure
+possession. Had I looked upon my title as secure, I should have
+prized it so much, that I should scarcely have mounted it for fear
+of injuring the animal; but now, caring not a straw for it, I rode
+it most unmercifully, and soon became a capital rider. This was
+very selfish in me, and I tell the fact with shame. I was
+punished, however, as I deserved; the pony had a spirit of its own,
+and, moreover, it had belonged to gypsies; once, as I was riding it
+furiously over the lawn, applying both whip and spur, it suddenly
+lifted up its heels, and flung me at least five yards over its
+head. I received some desperate contusions, and was taken up for
+dead; it was many months before I perfectly recovered.
+
+'But it is time for me to come to the touching part of my story.
+There was one thing that I loved better than the choicest gift
+which could be bestowed upon me, better than life itself--my
+mother;--at length she became unwell, and the thought that I might
+possibly lose her now rushed into my mind for the first time; it
+was terrible, and caused me unspeakable misery, I may say horror.
+My mother became worse, and I was not allowed to enter her
+apartment, lest by my frantic exclamations of grief I might
+aggravate her disorder. I rested neither day nor night, but roamed
+about the house like one distracted. Suddenly I found myself doing
+that which even at the time struck me as being highly singular; I
+found myself touching particular objects that were near me, and to
+which my fingers seemed to be attracted by an irresistible impulse.
+It was now the table or the chair that I was compelled to touch;
+now the bell-rope; now the handle of the door; now I would touch
+the wall, and the next moment, stooping down, I would place the
+point of my finger upon the floor: and so I continued to do day
+after day; frequently I would struggle to resist the impulse, but
+invariably in vain. I have even rushed away from the object, but I
+was sure to return, the impulse was too strong to be resisted: I
+quickly hurried back, compelled by the feeling within me to touch
+the object. Now I need not tell you that what impelled me to these
+actions was the desire to prevent my mother's death; whenever I
+touched any particular object, it was with the view of baffling the
+evil chance, as you would call it--in this instance my mother's
+death.
+
+'A favourable crisis occurred in my mother's complaint, and she
+recovered; this crisis took place about six o'clock in the morning;
+almost simultaneously with it there happened to myself a rather
+remarkable circumstance connected with the nervous feeling which
+was rioting in my system. I was lying in bed in a kind of uneasy
+doze, the only kind of rest which my anxiety on account of my
+mother permitted me at this time to take, when all at once I sprang
+up as if electrified; the mysterious impulse was upon me, and it
+urged me to go without delay, and climb a stately elm behind the
+house, and touch the topmost branch; otherwise--you know the rest--
+the evil chance would prevail. Accustomed for some time as I had
+been, under this impulse, to perform extravagant actions, I confess
+to you that the difficulty and peril of such a feat startled me; I
+reasoned against the feeling, and strove more strenuously than I
+had ever done before; I even made a solemn vow not to give way to
+the temptation, but I believe nothing less than chains, and those
+strong ones, could have restrained me. The demoniac influence, for
+I can call it nothing else, at length prevailed; it compelled me to
+rise, to dress myself, to descend the stairs, to unbolt the door,
+and to go forth; it drove me to the foot of the tree, and it
+compelled me to climb the trunk; this was a tremendous task, and I
+only accomplished it after repeated falls and trials. When I had
+got amongst the branches, I rested for a time, and then set about
+accomplishing the remainder of the ascent; this for some time was
+not so difficult, for I was now amongst the branches; as I
+approached the top, however, the difficulty became greater, and
+likewise the danger; but I was a light boy, and almost as nimble as
+a squirrel, and, moreover, the nervous feeling was within me,
+impelling me upward. It was only by means of a spring, however,
+that I was enabled to touch the top of the tree; I sprang, touched
+the top of the tree, and fell a distance of at least twenty feet,
+amongst the branches; had I fallen to the bottom I must have been
+killed, but I fell into the middle of the tree, and presently found
+myself astride upon one of the boughs; scratched and bruised all
+over, I reached the ground, and regained my chamber unobserved; I
+flung myself on my bed quite exhausted; presently they came to tell
+me that my mother was better--they found me in the state which I
+have described, and in a fever besides. The favourable crisis must
+have occurred just about the time that I performed the magic touch;
+it certainly was a curious coincidence, yet I was not weak enough,
+even though a child, to suppose that I had baffled the evil chance
+by my daring feat.
+
+'Indeed, all the time that I was performing these strange feats, I
+knew them to be highly absurd, yet the impulse to perform them was
+irresistible--a mysterious dread hanging over me till I had given
+way to it; even at that early period I frequently used to reason
+within myself as to what could be the cause of my propensity to
+touch, but of course I could come to no satisfactory conclusion
+respecting it; being heartily ashamed of the practice, I never
+spoke of it to any one, and was at all times highly solicitous that
+no one should observe my weakness.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXV
+
+
+
+Maternal anxiety--The baronet--Little zest--Country life--Mr.
+Speaker!--The craving--Spirited address--An author.
+
+After a short pause my host resumed his narration. 'Though I was
+never sent to school, my education was not neglected on that
+account; I had tutors in various branches of knowledge, under whom
+I made a tolerable progress; by the time I was eighteen I was able
+to read most of the Greek and Latin authors with facility; I was
+likewise, to a certain degree, a mathematician. I cannot say that
+I took much pleasure in my studies; my chief aim in endeavouring to
+accomplish my tasks was to give pleasure to my beloved parent, who
+watched my progress with anxiety truly maternal. My life at this
+period may be summed up in a few words: I pursued my studies,
+roamed about the woods, walked the green lanes occasionally, cast
+my fly in a trout stream, and sometimes, but not often, rode a-
+hunting with my uncle. A considerable part of my time was devoted
+to my mother, conversing with her and reading to her; youthful
+companions I had none, and as to my mother, she lived in the
+greatest retirement, devoting herself to the superintendence of my
+education, and the practice of acts of charity; nothing could be
+more innocent than this mode of life, and some people say that in
+innocence there is happiness, yet I can't say that I was happy. A
+continual dread overshadowed my mind, it was the dread of my
+mother's death. Her constitution had never been strong, and it had
+been considerably shaken by her last illness; this I knew, and this
+I saw--for the eyes of fear are marvellously keen. Well, things
+went on in this way till I had come of age; my tutors were then
+dismissed, and my uncle the baronet took me in hand, telling my
+mother that it was high time for him to exert his authority; that I
+must see something of the world, for that, if I remained much
+longer with her, I should be ruined. "You must consign him to me,"
+said he, "and I will introduce him to the world." My mother sighed
+and consented; so my uncle the baronet introduced me to the world,
+took me to horse-races and to London, and endeavoured to make a man
+of me according to his idea of the term, and in part succeeded. I
+became moderately dissipated--I say moderately, for dissipation had
+but little zest for me.
+
+'In this manner four years passed over. It happened that I was in
+London in the height of the season with my uncle, at his house; one
+morning he summoned me into the parlour, he was standing before the
+fire, and looked very serious. "I have had a letter," said he;
+"your mother is very ill." I staggered, and touched the nearest
+object to me; nothing was said for two or three minutes, and then
+my uncle put his lips to my ear and whispered something. I fell
+down senseless. My mother was . . . I remember nothing for a long
+time--for two years I was out of my mind; at the end of this time I
+recovered, or partly so. My uncle the baronet was very kind to me;
+he advised me to travel, he offered to go with me. I told him he
+was very kind, but I would rather go by myself. So I went abroad,
+and saw, amongst other things, Rome and the Pyramids. By frequent
+change of scene my mind became not happy, but tolerably tranquil.
+I continued abroad some years, when, becoming tired of travelling,
+I came home, found my uncle the baronet alive, hearty, and
+unmarried, as he still is. He received me very kindly, took me to
+Newmarket, and said that he hoped by this time I was become quite a
+man of the world; by his advice I took a house in town, in which I
+lived during the season. In summer I strolled from one watering-
+place to another; and, in order to pass the time, I became very
+dissipated.
+
+'At last I became as tired of dissipation as I had previously been
+of travelling, and I determined to retire to the country, and live
+on my paternal estate; this resolution I was not slow in putting
+into effect; I sold my house in town, repaired and refurnished my
+country house, and, for at least ten years, lived a regular country
+life; I gave dinner parties, prosecuted poachers, was charitable to
+the poor, and now and then went into my library; during this time I
+was seldom or never visited by the magic impulse, the reason being
+that there was nothing in the wide world for which I cared
+sufficiently to move a finger to preserve it. When the ten years,
+however, were nearly ended, I started out of bed one morning in a
+fit of horror, exclaiming, "Mercy, mercy! what will become of me?
+I am afraid I shall go mad. I have lived thirty-five years and
+upwards without doing anything; shall I pass through life in this
+manner? Horror!" And then in rapid succession I touched three
+different objects.
+
+'I dressed myself and went down, determining to set about
+something; but what was I to do?--there was the difficulty. I ate
+no breakfast, but walked about the room in a state of distraction;
+at last I thought that the easiest way to do something was to get
+into Parliament, there would be no difficulty in that. I had
+plenty of money, and could buy a seat; but what was I to do in
+Parliament? Speak, of course--but could I speak? "I'll try at
+once," said I, and forthwith I rushed into the largest dining-room,
+and, locking the door, I commenced speaking: "Mr. Speaker," said
+I, and then I went on speaking for about ten minutes as I best
+could, and then I left off, for I was talking nonsense. No, I was
+not formed for Parliament; I could do nothing there. What--what
+was I to do?
+
+'Many, many times I thought this question over, but was unable to
+solve it; a fear now stole over me that I was unfit for anything in
+the world, save the lazy life of vegetation which I had for many
+years been leading; yet, if that were the case, thought I, why the
+craving within me to distinguish myself? Surely it does not occur
+fortuitously, but is intended to rouse and call into exercise
+certain latent powers that I possess? and then with infinite
+eagerness I set about attempting to discover these latent powers.
+I tried an infinity of pursuits, botany and geology amongst the
+rest, but in vain; I was fitted for none of them. I became very
+sorrowful and despondent, and at one time I had almost resolved to
+plunge again into the whirlpool of dissipation; it was a dreadful
+resource, it was true, but what better could I do?
+
+'But I was not doomed to return to the dissipation of the world.
+One morning a young nobleman, who had for some time past showed a
+wish to cultivate my acquaintance, came to me in a considerable
+hurry. "I am come to beg an important favour of you," said he;
+"one of the county memberships is vacant--I intend to become a
+candidate; what I want immediately is a spirited address to the
+electors. I have been endeavouring to frame one all the morning,
+but in vain; I have, therefore, recourse to you as a person of
+infinite genius; pray, my dear friend, concoct me one by the
+morning!" "What you require of me," I replied, "is impossible; I
+have not the gift of words; did I possess it I would stand for the
+county myself, but I can't speak. Only the other day I attempted
+to make a speech, but left off suddenly, utterly ashamed, although
+I was quite alone, of the nonsense I was uttering." "It is not a
+speech that I want," said my friend; "I can talk for three hours
+without hesitating, but I want an address to circulate through the
+county, and I find myself utterly incompetent to put one together;
+do oblige me by writing one for me, I know you can; and, if at any
+time you want a person to speak for you, you may command me not for
+three but for six hours. Good-morning; to-morrow I will breakfast
+with you." In the morning he came again. "Well," said he, "what
+success?" "Very poor," said I; "but judge for yourself"; and I put
+into his hand a manuscript of several pages. My friend read it
+through with considerable attention. "I congratulate you," said
+he, "and likewise myself; I was not mistaken in my opinion of you;
+the address is too long by at least two-thirds, or I should rather
+say, that it is longer by two-thirds than addresses generally are;
+but it will do--I will not curtail it of a word. I shall win my
+election." And in truth he did win his election; and it was not
+only his own but the general opinion that he owed it to the
+address.
+
+'But, however that might be, I had, by writing the address, at last
+discovered what had so long eluded my search--what I was able to
+do. I, who had neither the nerve nor the command of speech
+necessary to constitute the orator--who had not the power of
+patient research required by those who would investigate the
+secrets of nature, had, nevertheless, a ready pen and teeming
+imagination. This discovery decided my fate--from that moment I
+became an author.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXVI
+
+
+
+Trepidations--Subtle principle--Perverse imagination--Are they
+mine?--Another book--How hard!--Agricultural dinner--
+Incomprehensible actions--Inmost bosom--Give it up--Chance
+resemblance--Rascally newspaper.
+
+'An author,' said I, addressing my host; 'is it possible that I am
+under the roof of an author?'
+
+'Yes,' said my host, sighing, 'my name is so and so, and I am the
+author of so and so; it is more than probable that you have heard
+both of my name and works. I will not detain you much longer with
+my history; the night is advancing, and the storm appears to be
+upon the increase. My life since the period of my becoming an
+author may be summed briefly as an almost uninterrupted series of
+doubts, anxieties, and trepidations. I see clearly that it is not
+good to love anything immoderately in this world, but it has been
+my misfortune to love immoderately everything on which I have set
+my heart. This is not good, I repeat--but where is the remedy?
+The ancients were always in the habit of saying, "Practise
+moderation," but the ancients appear to have considered only one
+portion of the subject. It is very possible to practise moderation
+in some things, in drink and the like--to restrain the appetites--
+but can a man restrain the affections of his mind, and tell them,
+so far you shall go, and no farther? Alas, no! for the mind is a
+subtle principle, and cannot be confined. The winds may be
+imprisoned; Homer says that Odysseus carried certain winds in his
+ship, confined in leathern bags, but Homer never speaks of
+confining the affections. It were but right that those who exhort
+us against inordinate affections, and setting our hearts too much
+upon the world and its vanities, would tell us how to avoid doing
+so.
+
+'I need scarcely tell you that no sooner did I become an author
+than I gave myself up immoderately to my vocation. It became my
+idol, and, as a necessary consequence, it has proved a source of
+misery and disquietude to me, instead of pleasure and blessing. I
+had trouble enough in writing my first work, and I was not long in
+discovering that it was one thing to write a stirring and spirited
+address to a set of county electors, and another widely different
+to produce a work at all calculated to make an impression upon the
+great world. I felt, however, that I was in my proper sphere, and
+by dint of unwearied diligence and exertion I succeeded in evolving
+from the depths of my agitated breast a work which, though it did
+not exactly please me, I thought would serve to make an experiment
+upon the public; so I laid it before the public, and the reception
+which it met with was far beyond my wildest expectations. The
+public were delighted with it, but what were my feelings?
+Anything, alas! but those of delight. No sooner did the public
+express its satisfaction at the result of my endeavours, than my
+perverse imagination began to conceive a thousand chimerical
+doubts; forthwith I sat down to analyse it; and my worst enemy, and
+all people have their enemies, especially authors--my worst enemy
+could not have discovered or sought to discover a tenth part of the
+faults which I, the author and creator of the unfortunate
+production, found or sought to find in it. It has been said that
+love makes us blind to the faults of the loved object--common love
+does, perhaps--the love of a father to his child, or that of a
+lover to his mistress, but not the inordinate love of an author to
+his works, at least not the love which one like myself bears to his
+works: to be brief, I discovered a thousand faults in my work,
+which neither public nor critics discovered. However, I was
+beginning to get over this misery, and to forgive my work all its
+imperfections, when--and I shake when I mention it--the same kind
+of idea which perplexed me with regard to the hawks and the gypsy
+pony rushed into my mind, and I forthwith commenced touching the
+objects around me, in order to baffle the evil chance, as you call
+it; it was neither more nor less than a doubt of the legality of my
+claim to the thoughts, expressions, and situations contained in the
+book; that is, to all that constituted the book. How did I get
+them? How did they come into my mind? Did I invent them? Did
+they originate with myself? Are they my own, or are they some
+other body's? You see into what difficulty I had got; I won't
+trouble you by relating all that I endured at that time, but will
+merely say that after eating my own heart, as the Italians say, and
+touching every object that came in my way for six months, I at
+length flung my book, I mean the copy of it which I possessed, into
+the fire, and began another.
+
+'But it was all in vain; I laboured at this other, finished it, and
+gave it to the world; and no sooner had I done so, than the same
+thought was busy in my brain, poisoning all the pleasure which I
+should otherwise have derived from my work. How did I get all the
+matter which composed it? Out of my own mind, unquestionably; but
+how did it come there--was it the indigenous growth of the mind?
+And then I would sit down and ponder over the various scenes and
+adventures in my book, endeavouring to ascertain how I came
+originally to devise them, and by dint of reflecting I remembered
+that to a single word in conversation, or some simple accident in a
+street or on a road, I was indebted for some of the happiest
+portions of my work; they were but tiny seeds, it is true, which in
+the soil of my imagination had subsequently become stately trees,
+but I reflected that without them no stately trees would have been
+produced, and that, consequently, only a part in the merit of these
+compositions which charmed the world--for the did charm the world--
+was due to myself. Thus, a dead fly was in my phial, poisoning all
+the pleasure which I should otherwise have derived from the result
+of my brain-sweat. "How hard!" I would exclaim, looking up to the
+sky, "how hard! I am like Virgil's sheep, bearing fleeces not for
+themselves." But, not to tire you, it fared with my second work as
+it did with my first; I flung it aside, and, in order to forget it,
+I began a third, on which I am now occupied; but the difficulty of
+writing it is immense, my extreme desire to be original sadly
+cramping the powers of my mind; my fastidiousness being so great
+that I invariably reject whatever ideas I do not think to be
+legitimately my own. But there is one circumstance to which I
+cannot help alluding here, as it serves to show what miseries this
+love of originality must needs bring upon an author. I am
+constantly discovering that, however original I may wish to be, I
+am continually producing the same things which other people say or
+write. Whenever, after producing something which gives me perfect
+satisfaction, and which has cost me perhaps days and nights of
+brooding, I chance to take up a book for the sake of a little
+relaxation, a book which I never saw before, I am sure to find in
+it something more or less resembling some part of what I have been
+just composing. You will easily conceive the distress which then
+comes over me; 'tis then that I am almost tempted to execrate the
+chance which, by discovering my latent powers, induced me to adopt
+a profession of such anxiety and misery.
+
+'For some time past I have given up reading almost entirely, owing
+to the dread which I entertain of lighting upon something similar
+to what I myself have written. I scarcely ever transgress without
+having almost instant reason to repent. To-day, when I took up the
+newspaper, I saw in a speech of the Duke of Rhododendron, at an
+agricultural dinner, the very same ideas, and almost the same
+expressions which I had put into the mouth of an imaginary
+personage of mine, on a widely different occasion; you saw how I
+dashed the newspaper down--you saw how I touched the floor; the
+touch was to baffle the evil chance, to prevent the critics
+detecting any similarity between the speech of the Duke of
+Rhododendron at the agricultural dinner and the speech of my
+personage. My sensibility on the subject of my writings is so
+great that sometimes a chance word is sufficient to unman me, I
+apply it to them in a superstitious sense; for example, when you
+said some time ago that the dark hour was coming on, I applied it
+to my works--it appeared to bode them evil fortune; you saw how I
+touched, it was to baffle the evil chance; but I do not confine
+myself to touching when the fear of the evil chance is upon me. To
+baffle it I occasionally perform actions which must appear highly
+incomprehensible; I have been known, when riding in company with
+other people, to leave the direct road, and make a long circuit by
+a miry lane to the place to which we were going. I have also been
+seen attempting to ride across a morass, where I had no business
+whatever, and in which my horse finally sank up to its saddle-
+girths, and was only extricated by the help of a multitude of
+hands. I have, of course, frequently been asked the reason of such
+conduct, to which I have invariably returned no answer, for I scorn
+duplicity; whereupon people have looked mysteriously, and sometimes
+put their fingers to their foreheads. "And yet it can't be," I
+once heard an old gentleman say; "don't we know what he is capable
+of?" and the old man was right; I merely did these things to avoid
+the evil chance, impelled by the strange feeling within me; and
+this evil chance is invariably connected with my writings, the only
+things at present which render life valuable to me. If I touch
+various objects, and ride into miry places, it is to baffle any
+mischance befalling me as an author, to prevent my books getting
+into disrepute; in nine cases out of ten to prevent any
+expressions, thoughts, or situations in any work which I am writing
+from resembling the thoughts, expressions, and situations of other
+authors, for my great wish, as I told you before, is to be
+original.
+
+'I have now related my history, and have revealed to you the
+secrets of my inmost bosom. I should certainly not have spoken so
+unreservedly as I have done, had I not discovered in you a kindred
+spirit. I have long wished for an opportunity of discoursing on
+the point which forms the peculiar feature of my history with a
+being who could understand me; and truly it was a lucky chance
+which brought you to these parts; you who seem to be acquainted
+with all things strange and singular, and who are as well
+acquainted with the subject of the magic touch as with all that
+relates to the star Jupiter or the mysterious tree at Upsal.'
+
+Such was the story which my host related to me in the library,
+amidst the darkness, occasionally broken by flashes of lightning.
+Both of us remained silent for some time after it was concluded.
+
+'It is a singular story,' said I, at last, 'though I confess that I
+was prepared for some part of it. Will you permit me to ask you a
+question?'
+
+'Certainly,' said my host.
+
+'Did you never speak in public?' said I.
+
+'Never.'
+
+'And when you made this speech of yours in the dining-room,
+commencing with Mr. Speaker, no one was present?'
+
+'None in the world, I double-locked the door; what do you mean?'
+
+'An idea came into my head--dear me how the rain is pouring--but,
+with respect to your present troubles and anxieties, would it not
+be wise, seeing that authorship causes you so much trouble and
+anxiety, to give it up altogether?'
+
+'Were you an author yourself,' replied my host, 'you would not talk
+in this manner; once an author, ever an author--besides, what could
+I do? return to my former state of vegetation? no, much as I
+endure, I do not wish that; besides, every now and then my reason
+tells me that these troubles and anxieties of mine are utterly
+without; foundation that whatever I write is the legitimate growth
+of my own mind, and that it is the height of folly to afflict
+myself at any chance resemblance between my own thoughts and those
+of other writers, such resemblance being inevitable from the fact
+of our common human origin. In short--'
+
+'I understand you,' said I; 'notwithstanding your troubles and
+anxieties you find life very tolerable; has your originality ever
+been called in question?'
+
+'On the contrary, every one declares that originality constitutes
+the most remarkable feature of my writings; the man has some
+faults, they say, but want of originality is certainly not one of
+them. He is quite different from others--a certain newspaper, it
+is true, the--I think, once insinuated that in a certain work of
+mine I had taken a hint or two from the writings of a couple of
+authors which it mentioned; it happened, however, that I had never
+even read one syllable of the writings of either, and of one of
+them had never even heard the name; so much for the discrimination
+of the -. By the bye, what a rascally newspaper that is!'
+
+'A very rascally newspaper,' said I.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXVII
+
+
+
+Disturbed slumbers--The bed-post--Two wizards--What can I do?--Real
+library--The Rev. Mr. Platitude--Toleration to Dissenters--Paradox-
+-Sword of St. Peter--Enemy to humbug--High principles--False
+concord--The damsel--What religion?--Further conversation--That
+would never do!--May you prosper.
+
+During the greater part of that night my slumbers were disturbed by
+strange dreams. Amongst other things, I fancied that I was my
+host; my head appeared to be teeming with wild thoughts and
+imaginations, out of which I was endeavouring to frame a book. And
+now the book was finished and given to the world, and the world
+shouted; and all eyes were turned upon me, and I shrank from the
+eyes of the world. And, when I got into retired places, I touched
+various objects in order to baffle the evil chance. In short,
+during the whole night, I was acting over the story which I had
+heard before I went to bed.
+
+At about eight o'clock I awoke. The storm had long since passed
+away, and the morning was bright and shining; my couch was so soft
+and luxurious that I felt loth to quit it, so I lay some time, my
+eyes wandering about the magnificent room to which fortune had
+conducted me in so singular a manner; at last I heaved a sigh; I
+was thinking of my own homeless condition, and imagining where I
+should find myself on the following morning. Unwilling, however,
+to indulge in melancholy thoughts, I sprang out of bed and
+proceeded to dress myself, and, whilst dressing, I felt an
+irresistible inclination to touch the bed-post.
+
+I finished dressing and left the room, feeling compelled, however,
+as I left it, to touch the lintel of the door. Is it possible,
+thought I, that from what I have lately heard the long-forgotten
+influence should have possessed me again? but I will not give way
+to it; so I hurried downstairs, resisting as I went a certain
+inclination which I occasionally felt to touch the rail of the
+banister. I was presently upon the gravel walk before the house:
+it was indeed a glorious morning. I stood for some time observing
+the golden fish disporting in the waters of the pond, and then
+strolled about amongst the noble trees of the park; the beauty and
+freshness of the morning--for the air had been considerably cooled
+by the late storm--soon enabled me to cast away the gloomy ideas
+which had previously taken possession of my mind, and, after a
+stroll of about half an hour, I returned towards the house in high
+spirits. It is true that once I felt very much inclined to go and
+touch the leaves of a flowery shrub which I saw at some distance,
+and had even moved two or three paces towards it; but, bethinking
+myself, I manfully resisted the temptation. 'Begone!' I exclaimed,
+'ye sorceries, in which I formerly trusted--begone for ever
+vagaries which I had almost forgotten; good luck is not to be
+obtained, or bad averted, by magic touches; besides, two wizards in
+one parish would be too much, in all conscience.'
+
+I returned to the house, and entered the library; breakfast was
+laid on the table, and my friend was standing before the portrait
+which I have already said hung above the mantelpiece; so intently
+was he occupied in gazing at it that he did not hear me enter, nor
+was aware of my presence till I advanced close to him and spoke,
+when he turned round and shook me by the hand.
+
+'What can possibly have induced you to hang up that portrait in
+your library? it is a staring likeness, it is true, but it appears
+to me a wretched daub.'
+
+'Daub as you call it,' said my friend, smiling, 'I would not part
+with it for the best piece of Rafael. For many a happy thought I
+am indebted to that picture--it is my principal source of
+inspiration; when my imagination flags, as of course it
+occasionally does, I stare upon those features, and forthwith
+strange ideas of fun and drollery begin to flow into my mind; these
+I round, amplify, or combine into goodly creations, and bring forth
+as I find an opportunity. It is true that I am occasionally
+tormented by the thought that, by doing this, I am committing
+plagiarism; though, in that case, all thoughts must be plagiarisms,
+all that we think being the result of what we hear, see, or feel.
+What can I do? I must derive my thoughts from some source or
+other; and, after all, it is better to plagiarise from the features
+of my landlord than from the works of Butler and Cervantes. My
+works, as you are aware, are of a serio-comic character. My
+neighbours are of opinion that I am a great reader, and so I am,
+but only of those features--my real library is that picture.'
+
+'But how did you obtain it?' said I.
+
+'Some years ago a travelling painter came into this neighbourhood,
+and my jolly host, at the request of his wife, consented to sit for
+his portrait; she highly admired the picture, but she soon died,
+and then my fat friend, who is of an affectionate disposition, said
+he could not bear the sight of it, as it put him in mind of his
+poor wife. I purchased it of him for five pounds--I would not take
+five thousand for it; when you called that picture a daub, you did
+not see all the poetry of it.'
+
+We sat down to breakfast; my entertainer appeared to be in much
+better spirits than on the preceding day; I did not observe him
+touch once; ere breakfast was over a servant entered--'The Reverend
+Mr. Platitude, sir,' said he.
+
+A shade of dissatisfaction came over the countenance of my host.
+'What does the silly pestilent fellow mean by coming here?' said
+he, half to himself; 'let him come in,' said he to the servant.
+
+The servant went out, and in a moment reappeared, introducing the
+Reverend Mr. Platitude. The Reverend Mr. Platitude, having what is
+vulgarly called a game leg, came shambling into the room; he was
+about thirty years of age, and about five feet three inches high;
+his face was of the colour of pepper, and nearly as rugged as a
+nutmeg-grater; his hair was black; with his eyes he squinted, and
+grinned with his lips, which were very much apart, disclosing two
+very irregular rows of teeth; he was dressed in the true Levitical
+fashion, in a suit of spotless black, and a neckerchief of spotless
+white.
+
+The Reverend Mr. Platitude advanced winking and grinning to my
+entertainer, who received him politely but with evident coldness;
+nothing daunted, however, the Reverend Mr. Platitude took a seat by
+the table, and, being asked to take a cup of coffee, winked,
+grinned, and consented.
+
+In company I am occasionally subject to fits of what is generally
+called absence; my mind takes flight and returns to former scenes,
+or presses forward into the future. One of these fits of absence
+came over me at this time--I looked at the Reverend Mr. Platitude
+for a moment, heard a word or two that proceeded from his mouth,
+and saying to myself, 'You are no man for me,' fell into a fit of
+musing--into the same train of thought as in the morning, no very
+pleasant one--I was thinking of the future.
+
+I continued in my reverie for some time, and probably should have
+continued longer, had I not been suddenly aroused by the voice of
+Mr. Platitude raised to a very high key. 'Yes, my dear sir,' said
+he, 'it is but too true; I have it on good authority--a gone
+church--a lost church--a ruined church--a demolished church is the
+Church of England. Toleration to Dissenters!--oh, monstrous!'
+
+'I suppose,' said my host, 'that the repeal of the Test Acts will
+be merely a precursor of the emancipation of the Papists?'
+
+'Of the Catholics,' said the Reverend Mr. Platitude. 'Ahem. There
+was a time, as I believe you are aware, my dear sir, when I was as
+much opposed to the emancipation of the Catholics as it was
+possible for any one to be; but I was prejudiced, my dear sir,
+labouring under a cloud of most unfortunate prejudice; but I thank
+my Maker I am so no longer. I have travelled, as you are aware.
+It is only by travelling that one can rub off prejudices; I think
+you will agree with me there. I am speaking to a traveller. I
+left behind all my prejudices in Italy. The Catholics are at least
+our fellow-Christians. I thank Heaven that I am no longer an enemy
+to Catholic emancipation.'
+
+'And yet you would not tolerate Dissenters?'
+
+'Dissenters, my dear sir; I hope you would not class such a set as
+the Dissenters with Catholics?'
+
+'Perhaps it would be unjust,' said my host, 'though to which of the
+two parties is another thing; but permit me to ask you a question:
+Does it not smack somewhat of paradox to talk of Catholics, whilst
+you admit there are Dissenters? If there are Dissenters, how
+should there be Catholics?'
+
+'It is not my fault that there are Dissenters,' said the Reverend
+Mr. Platitude; 'if I had my will I would neither admit there were
+any, nor permit any to be.'
+
+'Of course you would admit there were such as long as they existed;
+but how would you get rid of them?'
+
+'I would have the Church exert its authority.'
+
+'What do you mean by exerting its authority?'
+
+'I would not have the Church bear the sword in vain.'
+
+'What, the sword of St. Peter? You remember what the founder of
+the religion which you profess said about the sword, "He who
+striketh with it . . . " I think those who have called themselves
+the Church have had enough of the sword. Two can play with the
+sword, Mr. Platitude. The Church of Rome tried the sword with the
+Lutherans: how did it fare with the Church of Rome? The Church of
+England tried the sword, Mr. Platitude, with the Puritans: how did
+it fare with Laud and Charles?'
+
+'Oh, as for the Church of England,' said Mr. Platitude, 'I have
+little to say. Thank God, I left all my Church of England
+prejudices in Italy. Had the Church of England known its true
+interests, it would long ago have sought a reconciliation with its
+illustrious mother. If the Church of England had not been in some
+degree a schismatic church, it would not have fared so ill at the
+time of which you are speaking; the rest of the Church would have
+come to its assistance. The Irish would have helped it, so would
+the French, so would the Portuguese. Disunion has always been the
+bane of the Church.'
+
+Once more I fell into a reverie. My mind now reverted to the past;
+methought I was in a small comfortable room wainscoted with oak; I
+was seated on one side of a fireplace, close by a table on which
+were wine and fruit; on the other side of the fire sat a man in a
+plain suit of brown, with the hair combed back from his somewhat
+high forehead; he had a pipe in his mouth, which for some time he
+smoked gravely and placidly, without saying a word; at length,
+after drawing at the pipe for some time rather vigorously, he
+removed it from his mouth, and, emitting an accumulated cloud of
+smoke, he exclaimed in a slow and measured tone, 'As I was telling
+you just now, my good chap, I have always been an enemy to humbug.'
+
+When I awoke from my reverie the Reverend Mr. Platitude was
+quitting the apartment.
+
+'Who is that person?' said I to my entertainer, as the door closed
+behind him.
+
+'Who is he?' said my host; 'why, the Reverend Mr. Platitude.'
+
+'Does he reside in this neighbourhood?'
+
+'He holds a living about three miles from here; his history, as far
+as I am acquainted with it, is as follows. His father was a
+respectable tanner in the neighbouring town, who, wishing to make
+his son a gentleman, sent him to college. Having never been at
+college myself, I cannot say whether he took the wisest course; I
+believe it is more easy to unmake than to make a gentleman; I have
+known many gentlemanly youths go to college, and return anything
+but what they went. Young Mr. Platitude did not go to college a
+gentleman, but neither did he return one: he went to college an
+ass, and returned a prig; to his original folly was superadded a
+vast quantity of conceit. He told his father that he had adopted
+high principles, and was determined to discountenance everything
+low and mean; advised him to eschew trade, and to purchase him a
+living. The old man retired from business, purchased his son a
+living, and shortly after died, leaving him what remained of his
+fortune. The first thing the Reverend Mr. Platitude did, after his
+father's decease, was to send his mother and sister into Wales to
+live upon a small annuity, assigning as a reason that he was averse
+to anything low, and that they talked ungrammatically. Wishing to
+shine in the pulpit, he now preached high sermons, as he called
+them, interspersed with scraps of learning. His sermons did not,
+however, procure him much popularity; on the contrary, his church
+soon became nearly deserted, the greater part of his flock going
+over to certain dissenting preachers, who had shortly before made
+their appearance in the neighbourhood. Mr. Platitude was filled
+with wrath, and abused Dissenters in most unmeasured terms. Coming
+in contact with some of the preachers at a public meeting, he was
+rash enough to enter into argument with them. Poor Platitude! he
+had better have been quiet, he appeared like a child, a very
+infant, in their grasp; he attempted to take shelter under his
+college learning, but found, to his dismay, that his opponents knew
+more Greek and Latin than himself. These illiterate boors, as he
+had supposed them, caught him at once in a false concord, and Mr.
+Platitude had to slink home overwhelmed with shame. To avenge
+himself he applied to the ecclesiastical court, but was told that
+the Dissenters could not be put down by the present ecclesiastical
+law. He found the Church of England, to use his own expression, a
+poor, powerless, restricted Church. He now thought to improve his
+consequence by marriage, and made up to a rich and beautiful young
+lady in the neighbourhood; the damsel measured him from head to
+foot with a pair of very sharp eyes, dropped a curtsey, and refused
+him. Mr. Platitude, finding England a very stupid place,
+determined to travel; he went to Italy; how he passed his time
+there he knows best, to other people it is a matter of little
+importance. At the end of two years he returned with a real or
+assumed contempt for everything English, and especially for the
+Church to which he belongs, and out of which he is supported. He
+forthwith gave out that he had left behind him all his Church of
+England prejudices, and, as a proof thereof, spoke against
+sacerdotal wedlock and the toleration of schismatics. In an evil
+hour for myself he was introduced to me by a clergyman of my
+acquaintance, and from that time I have been pestered, as I was
+this morning, at least once a week. I seldom enter into any
+discussion with him, but fix my eyes on the portrait over the
+mantelpiece, and endeavour to conjure up some comic idea or
+situation, whilst he goes on talking tomfoolery by the hour about
+Church authority, schismatics, and the unlawfulness of sacerdotal
+wedlock; occasionally he brings with him a strange kind of being,
+whose acquaintance he says he made in Italy; I believe he is some
+sharking priest who has come over to proselytise and plunder. This
+being has some powers of conversation and some learning, but
+carries the countenance of an arch villain; Platitude is evidently
+his tool.'
+
+'Of what religion are you?' said I to my host.
+
+'That of the Vicar of Wakefield--good, quiet, Church of England,
+which would live and let live, practises charity, and rails at no
+one; where the priest is the husband of one wife, takes care of his
+family and his parish--such is the religion for me, though I
+confess I have hitherto thought too little of religious matters.
+When, however, I have completed this plaguy work on which I am
+engaged, I hope to be able to devote more attention to them.'
+
+After some further conversation, the subjects being, if I remember
+right, college education, priggism, church authority, tomfoolery,
+and the like, I rose and said to my host, 'I must now leave you.'
+
+'Whither are you going?'
+
+'I do not know.'
+
+'Stay here, then--you shall be welcome as many days, months, and
+years as you please to stay.'
+
+'Do you think I would hang upon another man? No, not if he were
+Emperor of all the Chinas. I will now make my preparations, and
+then bid you farewell.'
+
+I retired to my apartment and collected the handful of things which
+I carried with me on my travels.
+
+'I will walk a little way with you,' said my friend on my return.
+
+He walked with me to the park gate; neither of us said anything by
+the way. When we had come upon the road, I said, 'Farewell now; I
+will not permit you to give yourself any further trouble on my
+account. Receive my best thanks for your kindness; before we part,
+however, I should wish to ask you a question. Do you think you
+shall ever grow tired of authorship?'
+
+'I have my fears,' said my friend, advancing his hand to one of the
+iron bars of the gate.
+
+'Don't touch,' said I, 'it is a bad habit. I have but one word to
+add: should you ever grow tired of authorship follow your first
+idea of getting into Parliament; you have words enough at command;
+perhaps you want manner and method; but, in that case, you must
+apply to a teacher, you must take lessons of a master of
+elocution.'
+
+'That would never do!' said my host; 'I know myself too well to
+think of applying for assistance to any one. Were I to become a
+parliamentary orator, I should wish to be an original one, even if
+not above mediocrity. What pleasure should I take in any speech I
+might make, however original as to thought, provided the gestures I
+employed and the very modulation of my voice were not my own? Take
+lessons, indeed! why, the fellow who taught me, the professor,
+might be standing in the gallery whilst I spoke; and, at the best
+parts of my speech, might say to himself, "That gesture is mine--
+that modulation is mine." I could not bear the thought of such a
+thing.'
+
+'Farewell,' said I, 'and may you prosper. I have nothing more to
+say.'
+
+I departed. At the distance of twenty yards I turned round
+suddenly; my friend was just withdrawing his finger from the bar of
+the gate.
+
+'He has been touching,' said I, as I proceeded on my way; 'I wonder
+what was the evil chance he wished to baffle.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXVIII
+
+
+
+Elastic step--Disconsolate party--Not the season--Mend your
+draught--Good ale--Crotchet--Hammer and tongs--Schoolmaster--True
+Eden life--Flaming Tinman--Twice my size--Hard at work--My poor
+wife--Grey Moll--A Bible--Half-and-half--What to do--Half inclined-
+-In no time--On one condition--Don't stare--Like the wind.
+
+After walking some time, I found myself on the great road, at the
+same spot where I had turned aside the day before with my new-made
+acquaintance, in the direction of his house. I now continued my
+journey as before, towards the north. The weather, though
+beautiful, was much cooler than it had been for some time past; I
+walked at a great rate, with a springing and elastic step. In
+about two hours I came to where a kind of cottage stood a little
+way back from the road, with a huge oak before it, under the shade
+of which stood a little pony and a cart, which seemed to contain
+various articles. I was going past--when I saw scrawled over the
+door of the cottage, 'Good beer sold here'; upon which, feeling
+myself all of a sudden very thirsty, I determined to go in and
+taste the beverage.
+
+I entered a well-sanded kitchen, and seated myself on a bench, on
+one side of a long white table; the other side, which was nearest
+to the wall, was occupied by a party, or rather family, consisting
+of a grimy-looking man, somewhat under the middle size, dressed in
+faded velveteens, and wearing a leather apron--a rather pretty-
+looking woman, but sun-burnt, and meanly dressed, and two ragged
+children, a boy and girl, about four or five years old. The man
+sat with his eyes fixed upon the table, supporting his chin with
+both his hands; the woman, who was next him, sat quite still, save
+that occasionally she turned a glance upon her husband with eyes
+that appeared to have been lately crying. The children had none of
+the vivacity so general at their age. A more disconsolate family I
+had never seen; a mug, which, when filled, might contain half a
+pint, stood empty before them; a very disconsolate party indeed.
+
+'House!' said I; 'House!' and then, as nobody appeared, I cried
+again as loud as I could, 'House! do you hear me, House!'
+
+'What's your pleasure, young man?' said an elderly woman, who now
+made her appearance from a side apartment.
+
+'To taste your ale,' said I.
+
+'How much?' said the woman, stretching out her hand towards the
+empty mug upon the table.
+
+'The largest measure-full in your house,' said I, putting back her
+hand gently. 'This is not the season for half-pint mugs.'
+
+'As you will, young man,' said the landlady; and presently brought
+in an earthen pitcher which might contain about three pints, and
+which foamed and frothed withal.
+
+'Will this pay for it?' said I, putting down sixpence.
+
+'I have to return you a penny,' said the landlady, putting her hand
+into her pocket.
+
+'I want no change,' said I, flourishing my hand with an air.
+
+'As you please, young gentleman,' said the landlady, and then,
+making a kind of curtsey, she again retired to the side apartment.
+
+'Here is your health, sir,' said I to the grimy-looking man, as I
+raised the pitcher to my lips.
+
+The tinker, for such I supposed him to be, without altering his
+posture, raised his eyes, looked at me for a moment, gave a slight
+nod, and then once more fixed his eyes upon the table. I took a
+draught of the ale, which I found excellent; 'Won't you drink?'
+said I, holding the pitcher to the tinker.
+
+The man again lifted up his eyes, looked at me, and then at the
+pitcher, and then at me again. I thought at one time that he was
+about to shake his head in sign of refusal; but no, he looked once
+more at the pitcher, and the temptation was too strong. Slowly
+removing his head from his arms, he took the pitcher, sighed,
+nodded, and drank a tolerable quantity, and then set the pitcher
+down before me upon the table.
+
+'You had better mend your draught,' said I to the tinker; 'it is a
+sad heart that never rejoices.'
+
+'That's true,' said the tinker, and again raising the pitcher to
+his lips, he mended his draught as I had bidden him, drinking a
+larger quantity than before.
+
+'Pass it to your wife,' said I.
+
+The poor woman took the pitcher from the man's hand; before,
+however, raising it to her lips, she looked at the children. True
+mother's heart, thought I to myself, and taking the half-pint mug,
+I made her fill it, and then held it to the children, causing each
+to take a draught. The woman wiped her eyes with the corner of her
+gown, before she raised the pitcher and drank to my health.
+
+In about five minutes none of the family looked half so
+disconsolate as before, and the tinker and I were in deep
+discourse.
+
+Oh, genial and gladdening is the power of good ale, the true and
+proper drink of Englishmen. He is not deserving of the name of
+Englishman who speaketh against ale, that is good ale, like that
+which has just made merry the hearts of this poor family; and yet
+there are beings, calling themselves Englishmen, who say that it is
+a sin to drink a cup of ale, and who, on coming to this passage
+will be tempted to fling down the book and exclaim, 'The man is
+evidently a bad man, for behold, by his own confession, he is not
+only fond of ale himself, but is in the habit of tempting other
+people with it.' Alas! alas! what a number of silly individuals
+there are in this world; I wonder what they would have had me do in
+this instance--given the afflicted family a cup of cold water? go
+to! They could have found water in the road, for there was a
+pellucid spring only a few yards distant from the house, as they
+were well aware--but they wanted not water; what should I have
+given them? meat and bread? go to! They were not hungry; there was
+stifled sobbing in their bosoms, and the first mouthful of strong
+meat would have choked them. What should I have given them?
+Money! what right had I to insult them by offering them money?
+Advice! words, words, words; friends, there is a time for
+everything; there is a time for a cup of cold water; there is a
+time for strong meat and bread; there is a time for advice, and
+there is a time for ale; and I have generally found that the time
+for advice is after a cup of ale. I do not say many cups; the
+tongue then speaketh more smoothly, and the ear listeneth more
+benignantly; but why do I attempt to reason with you? do I not know
+you for conceited creatures, with one idea--and that a foolish
+one;--a crotchet, for the sake of which ye would sacrifice
+anything, religion if required--country? There, fling down my
+book, I do not wish ye to walk any farther in my company, unless
+you cast your nonsense away, which ye will never do, for it is the
+breath of your nostrils; fling down my book, it was not written to
+support a crotchet, for know one thing, my good people, I have
+invariably been an enemy to humbug.
+
+'Well,' said the tinker, after we had discoursed some time, 'little
+thought, when I first saw you, that you were of my own trade.'
+
+Myself. Nor am I, at least not exactly. There is not much
+difference, 'tis true, between a tinker and a smith.
+
+Tinker. You are a whitesmith then?
+
+Myself. Not I, I'd scorn to be anything so mean; no, friend,
+black's the colour; I am a brother of the horse-shoe. Success to
+the hammer and tongs.
+
+Tinker. Well, I shouldn't have thought you had been a blacksmith
+by your hands.
+
+Myself. I have seen them, however, as black as yours. The truth
+is, I have not worked for many a day.
+
+Tinker. Where did you serve first?
+
+Myself. In Ireland.
+
+Tinker. That's a good way off, isn't it?
+
+Myself. Not very far; over those mountains to the left, and the
+run of salt water that lies behind them, there's Ireland.
+
+Tinker. It's a fine thing to be a scholar.
+
+Myself. Not half so fine as to be a tinker.
+
+Tinker. How you talk!
+
+Myself. Nothing but the truth; what can be better than to be one's
+own master? Now a tinker is his own master, a scholar is not. Let
+us suppose the best of scholars, a schoolmaster for example, for I
+suppose you will admit that no one can be higher in scholarship
+than a schoolmaster; do you call his a pleasant life? I don't; we
+should call him a school-slave, rather than a schoolmaster. Only
+conceive him in blessed weather like this, in his close school,
+teaching children to write in copy-books, 'Evil communication
+corrupts good manners,' or 'You cannot touch pitch without
+defilement,' or to spell out of Abedariums, or to read out of Jack
+Smith, or Sandford and Merton. Only conceive him, I say, drudging
+in such guise from morning till night, without any rational
+enjoyment but to beat the children. Would you compare such a dog's
+life as that with your own--the happiest under heaven--true Eden
+life, as the Germans would say,--pitching your tent under the
+pleasant hedgerows, listening to the song of the feathered tribes,
+collecting all the leaky kettles in the neighbourhood, soldering
+and joining, earning your honest bread by the wholesome sweat of
+your brow--making ten holes--hey, what's this? what's the man
+crying for?
+
+Suddenly the tinker had covered his face with his hands, and begun
+to sob and moan like a man in the deepest distress; the breast of
+his wife was heaved with emotion; even the children were agitated,
+the youngest began to roar.
+
+Myself. What's the matter with you; what are you all crying about?
+
+Tinker (uncovering his face). Lord, why to hear you talk; isn't
+that enough to make anybody cry--even the poor babes? Yes, you
+said right, 'tis life in the garden of Eden--the tinker's; I see so
+now that I'm about to give it up.
+
+Myself. Give it up! you must not think of such a thing.
+
+Tinker. No, I can't bear to think of it, and yet I must; what's to
+be done? How hard to be frightened to death, to be driven off the
+roads.
+
+Myself. Who has driven you off the roads?
+
+Tinker. Who! the Flaming Tinman.
+
+Myself. Who is he?
+
+Tinker. The biggest rogue in England, and the cruellest, or he
+wouldn't have served me as he has done--I'll tell you all about it.
+I was born upon the roads, and so was my father before me, and my
+mother too; and I worked with them as long as they lived, as a
+dutiful child, for I have nothing to reproach myself with on their
+account; and when my father died I took up the business, and went
+his beat, and supported my mother for the little time she lived;
+and when she died I married this young woman, who was not born upon
+the roads, but was a small tradesman's daughter, at Gloster. She
+had a kindness for me, and, notwithstanding her friends were
+against the match, she married the poor tinker, and came to live
+with him upon the roads. Well, young man, for six or seven years
+I--as the happiest fellow breathing, living just the life you
+described just now--respected by everybody in this beat; when in an
+evil hour comes this Black Jack, this flaming tinman, into these
+parts, driven as they say out of Yorkshire--for no good you may be
+sure. Now there is no beat will support two tinkers, as you
+doubtless know; mine was a good one, but it would not support the
+flying tinker and myself, though if it would have supported twenty
+it would have been all the same to the flying villain, who'll brook
+no one but himself; so he presently finds me out, and offers to
+fight me for the beat. Now, being bred upon the roads, I can fight
+a little, that is with anything like my match, but I was not going
+to fight him, who happens to be twice my size, and so I told him;
+whereupon he knocks me down, and would have done me farther
+mischief had not some men been nigh and prevented him; so he
+threatened to cut my throat, and went his way. Well, I did not
+like such usage at all, and was woundily frightened, and tried to
+keep as much out of his way as possible, going anywhere but where I
+thought I was likely to meet him; and sure enough for several
+months I contrived to keep out of his way. At last somebody told
+me that he was gone back to Yorkshire, whereupon I was glad at
+heart, and ventured to show myself, going here and there as I did
+before. Well, young man, it was yesterday that I and mine set
+ourselves down in a lane, about five miles from here, and lighted
+our fire, and had our dinner, and after dinner I sat down to mend
+three kettles and a frying pan which the people in the
+neighbourhood had given me to mend--for, as I told you before, I
+have a good connection, owing to my honesty. Well, as I sat there
+hard at work, happy as the day's long, and thinking of anything but
+what was to happen, who should come up but this Black Jack, this
+king of the tinkers, rattling along in his cart, with his wife,
+that they call Grey Moll, by his side--for the villain has got a
+wife, and a maid-servant too; the last I never saw, but they that
+has, says that she is as big as a house, and young, and well to
+look at, which can't be all said of Moll, who, though she's big
+enough in all conscience, is neither young nor handsome. Well, no
+sooner does he see me and mine, than, giving the reins to Grey
+Moll, he springs out of his cart, and comes straight at me; not a
+word did he say, but on he comes straight at me like a wild bull.
+I am a quiet man, young fellow, but I saw now that quietness would
+be of no use, so I sprang up upon my legs, and being bred upon the
+roads, and able to fight a little, I squared as he came running in
+upon me, and had a round or two with him. Lord bless you, young
+man, it was like a fly fighting with an elephant--one of those big
+beasts the show-folks carry about. I had not a chance with the
+fellow, he knocked me here, he knocked me there, knocked me into
+the hedge, and knocked me out again. I was at my last shifts, and
+my poor wife saw it. Now my poor wife, though she is as gentle as
+a pigeon, has yet a spirit of her own, and though she wasn't bred
+upon the roads, can scratch a little; so when she saw me at my last
+shifts, she flew at the villain--she couldn't bear to see her
+partner murdered--and scratched the villain's face. Lord bless
+you, young man, she had better have been quiet: Grey Moll no
+sooner saw what she was about, than, springing out of the cart,
+where she had sat all along perfectly quiet, save a little whooping
+and screeching to encourage her blade:- Grey Moll, I say (my flesh
+creeps when I think of it--for I am a kind husband, and love my
+poor wife) . . .
+
+Myself. Take another draught of the ale; you look frightened, and
+it will do you good. Stout liquor makes stout heart, as the man
+says in the play.
+
+Tinker. That's true, young man; here's to you--where was I? Grey
+Moll no sooner saw what my wife was about, than, springing out of
+the cart, she flew at my poor wife, clawed off her bonnet in a
+moment, and seized hold of her hair. Lord bless you, young man, my
+poor wife, in the hands of Grey Moll, was nothing better than a
+pigeon in the claws of a buzzard hawk, or I in the hands of the
+Flaming Tinman, which when I saw, my heart was fit to burst, and I
+determined to give up everything--everything to save my poor wife
+out of Grey Moll's claws. 'Hold!' I shouted. 'Hold, both of you--
+Jack, Moll. Hold, both of you, for God's sake, and I'll do what
+you will: give up trade, and business, connection, bread, and
+everything, never more travel the roads, and go down on my knees to
+you in the bargain.' Well, this had some effect; Moll let go my
+wife, and the Blazing Tinman stopped for a moment; it was only for
+a moment, however, that he left off--all of a sudden he hit me a
+blow which sent me against a tree; and what did the villain then?
+why the flying villain seized me by the throat, and almost
+throttled me, roaring--what do you think, young man, that the
+flaming villain roared out?
+
+Myself. I really don't know--something horrible, I suppose.
+
+Tinker. Horrible, indeed; you may well say horrible, young man;
+neither more nor less than the Bible--'A Bible, a Bible!' roared
+the Blazing Tinman; and he pressed my throat so hard against the
+tree that my senses began to dwaul away--a Bible, a Bible, still
+ringing in my ears. Now, young man, my poor wife is a Christian
+woman, and, though she travels the roads, carries a Bible with her
+at the bottom of her sack, with which sometimes she teaches the
+children to read--it was the only thing she brought with her from
+the place of her kith and kin, save her own body and the clothes on
+her back; so my poor wife, half distracted, runs to her sack, pulls
+out the Bible, and puts it into the hand of the Blazing Tinman, who
+then thrusts the end of it into my mouth with such fury that it
+made my lips bleed, and broke short one of my teeth which happened
+to be decayed. 'Swear,' said he, 'swear, you mumping villain, take
+your Bible oath that you will quit and give up the beat altogether,
+or I'll--and then the hard-hearted villain made me swear by the
+Bible, and my own damnation, half-throttled as I was, to--to--I
+can't go on -
+
+Myself. Take another draught--stout liquor -
+
+Tinker. I can't, young man, my heart's too full, and what's more,
+the pitcher is empty.
+
+Myself. And so he swore you, I suppose, on the Bible, to quit the
+roads?
+
+Tinker. You are right, he did so, the gypsy villain.
+
+Myself. Gypsy! Is he a gypsy?
+
+Tinker. Not exactly; what they call a half-and-half. His father
+was a gypsy, and his mother, like mine, one who walked the roads.
+
+Myself. Is he of the Smiths--the Petulengres?
+
+Tinker. I say, young man, you know a thing or two; one would
+think, to hear you talk, you had been bred upon the roads. I
+thought none but those bred upon the roads knew anything of that
+name--Petulengres! No, not he, he fights the Petulengres whenever
+he meets them; he likes nobody but himself, and wants to be king of
+the roads. I believe he is a Boss, or a--at any rate he's a bad
+one, as I know to my cost.
+
+Myself. And what are you going to do?
+
+Tinker. Do! you may well ask that; I don't know what to do. My
+poor wife and I have been talking of that all the morning, over
+that half-pint mug of beer; we can't determine on what's to be
+done. All we know is, that we must quit the roads. The villain
+swore that the next time he saw us on the roads he'd cut all our
+throats, and seize our horse and bit of a cart that are now
+standing out there under the tree.
+
+Myself. And what do you mean to do with your horse and cart?
+
+Tinker. Another question! What shall we do with our cart and
+pony? they are of no use to us now. Stay on the roads I will not,
+both for my oath's sake and my own. If we had a trifle of money,
+we were thinking of going to Bristol, where I might get up a little
+business, but we have none; our last three farthings we spent about
+the mug of beer.
+
+Myself. But why don't you sell your horse and cart?
+
+Tinker. Sell them! and who would buy them, unless some one who
+wished to set up in my line; but there's no beat, and what's the
+use of the horse and cart and the few tools without the beat?
+
+Myself. I'm half inclined to buy your cart and pony, and your beat
+too.
+
+Tinker. You! How came you to think of such a thing?
+
+Myself. Why, like yourself, I hardly know what to do. I want a
+home and work. As for a home, I suppose I can contrive to make a
+home out of your tent and cart; and as for work, I must learn to be
+a tinker, it would not be hard for one of my trade to learn to
+tinker; what better can I do? Would you have me go to Chester and
+work there now? I don't like the thoughts of it. If I go to
+Chester and work there, I can't be my own man; I must work under a
+master, and perhaps he and I should quarrel, and when I quarrel I
+am apt to hit folks, and those that hit folks are sometimes sent to
+prison; I don't like the thought either of going to Chester or to
+Chester prison. What do you think I could earn at Chester?
+
+Tinker. A matter of eleven shillings a week, if anybody would
+employ you, which I don't think they would with those hands of
+yours. But whether they would or not, if you are of a quarrelsome
+nature you must not go to Chester; you would be in the castle in no
+time. I don't know how to advise you. As for selling you my
+stock, I'd see you farther first, for your own sake.
+
+Myself. Why?
+
+Tinker. Why! you would get your head knocked off. Suppose you
+were to meet him?
+
+Myself. Pooh, don't be afraid on my account; if I were to meet him
+I could easily manage him one way or other. I know all kinds of
+strange words and names, and, as I told you before, I sometimes hit
+people when they put me out.
+
+Here the tinker's wife, who for some minutes past had been
+listening attentively to our discourse, interposed, saying, in a
+low soft tone: 'I really don't see, John, why you shouldn't sell
+the young man the things, seeing that he wishes for them, and is so
+confident; you have told him plainly how matters stand, and if
+anything ill should befall him, people couldn't lay the blame on
+you; but I don't think any ill will befall him, and who knows but
+God has sent him to our assistance in time of need?'
+
+'I'll hear of no such thing,' said the tinker; 'I have drunk at the
+young man's expense, and though he says he's quarrelsome, I would
+not wish to sit in pleasanter company. A pretty fellow I should
+be, now, if I were to let him follow his own will. If he once sets
+up on my beat, he's a lost man, his ribs will be stove in, and his
+head knocked off his shoulders. There, you are crying, but you
+shan't have your will though; I won't be the young man's
+destruction . . . If, indeed, I thought he could manage the tinker-
+-but he never can; he says he can hit, but it's no use hitting the
+tinker,--crying still! you are enough to drive one mad. I say,
+young man, I believe you understand a thing or two, just now you
+were talking of knowing hard words and names--I don't wish to send
+you to your mischief--you say you know hard words and names; let us
+see. Only on one condition I'll sell you the pony and things; as
+for the beat it's gone, isn't mine--sworn away by my own mouth.
+Tell me what's my name; if you can't, may I--'
+
+Myself. Don't swear, it's a bad habit, neither pleasant nor
+profitable. Your name is Slingsby--Jack Slingsby. There, don't
+stare, there's nothing in my telling you your name: I've been in
+these parts before, at least not very far from here. Ten years
+ago, when I was little more than a child, I was about twenty miles
+from here in a post-chaise, at the door of an inn, and as I looked
+from the window of the chaise, I saw you standing by a gutter, with
+a big tin ladle in your hand, and somebody called you Jack
+Slingsby. I never forget anything I hear or see; I can't, I wish I
+could. So there's nothing strange in my knowing your name; indeed,
+there's nothing strange in anything, provided you examine it to the
+bottom. Now what am I to give you for the things?
+
+I paid Slingsby five pounds ten shillings for his stock in trade,
+cart, and pony--purchased sundry provisions of the landlady, also a
+wagoner's frock, which had belonged to a certain son of hers,
+deceased, gave my little animal a feed of corn, and prepared to
+depart.
+
+'God bless you, young man,' said Slingsby, shaking me by the hand;
+'you are the best friend I've had for many a day: I have but one
+thing to tell you, Don't cross that fellow's path if you can help
+it; and stay--should the pony refuse to go, just touch him so, and
+he'll fly like the wind.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXIX
+
+
+
+Effects of corn--One night longer--The hoofs--A stumble--Are you
+hurt?--What a difference--Drowsy--Maze of bushes--Housekeeping--
+Sticks and furze--The driftway--Account of stock--Anvil and
+bellows--Twenty years.
+
+It was two or three hours past noon when I took my departure from
+the place of the last adventure, walking by the side of my little
+cart; the pony, invigorated by the corn, to which he was probably
+not much accustomed, proceeded right gallantly; so far from having
+to hasten him forward by the particular application which the
+tinker had pointed out to me, I had rather to repress his
+eagerness, being, though an excellent pedestrian, not unfrequently
+left behind. The country through which I passed was beautiful and
+interesting, but solitary; few habitations appeared. As it was
+quite a matter of indifference to me in what direction I went, the
+whole world being before me, I allowed the pony to decide upon the
+matter; it was not long before he left the high-road, being
+probably no friend to public places. I followed him I knew not
+whither, but, from subsequent observation, have reason to suppose
+that our course was in a north-west direction. At length night
+came upon us, and a cold wind sprang up, which was succeeded by a
+drizzling rain.
+
+I had originally intended to pass the night in the cart, or to
+pitch my little tent on some convenient spot by the road's side;
+but, owing to the alteration in the weather, I thought that it
+would be advisable to take up my quarters in any hedge alehouse at
+which I might arrive. To tell the truth, I was not very sorry to
+have an excuse to pass the night once more beneath a roof. I had
+determined to live quite independent, but I had never before passed
+a night by myself abroad, and felt a little apprehensive at the
+idea; I hoped, however, on the morrow, to be a little more prepared
+for the step, so I determined for one night--only for one night
+longer--to sleep like a Christian; but human determinations are not
+always put into effect, such a thing as opportunity is frequently
+wanting, such was the case here. I went on for a considerable
+time, in expectation of coming to some rustic hostelry, but nothing
+of the kind presented itself to my eyes; the country in which I now
+was seemed almost uninhabited, not a house of any kind was to be
+seen--at least I saw none--though it is true houses might be near
+without my seeing them, owing to the darkness of the night, for
+neither moon nor star was abroad. I heard, occasionally, the bark
+of dogs; but the sound appeared to come from an immense distance.
+The rain still fell, and the ground beneath my feet was wet and
+miry; in short, it was a night in which even a tramper by
+profession would feel more comfortable in being housed than abroad.
+I followed in the rear of the cart, the pony still proceeding at a
+sturdy pace, till methought I heard other hoofs than those of my
+own nag; I listened for a moment, and distinctly heard the sound of
+hoofs approaching at a great rate, and evidently from the quarter
+towards which I and my little caravan were moving. We were in a
+dark lane--so dark that it was impossible for me to see my own
+hand. Apprehensive that some accident might occur, I ran forward,
+and, seizing the pony by the bridle, drew him as near as I could to
+the hedge. On came the hoofs--trot, trot, trot; and evidently more
+than those of one horse; their speed as they advanced appeared to
+slacken--it was only, however, for a moment. I heard a voice cry,
+'Push on,--this is a desperate robbing place,--never mind the
+dark'; and the hoofs came on quicker than before. 'Stop!' said I,
+at the top of my voice; 'stop! or--' Before I could finish what I
+was about to say there was a stumble, a heavy fall, a cry, and a
+groan, and putting out my foot I felt what I conjectured to be the
+head of a horse stretched upon the road. 'Lord have mercy upon us!
+what's the matter?' exclaimed a voice. 'Spare my life,' cried
+another voice, apparently from the ground; 'only spare my life, and
+take all I have.' 'Where are you, Master Wise?' cried the other
+voice. 'Help! here, Master Bat,' cried the voice from the ground;
+'help me up or I shall be murdered.' 'Why, what's the matter?'
+said Bat. 'Some one has knocked me down, and is robbing me,' said
+the voice from the ground. 'Help! murder!' cried Bat; and,
+regardless of the entreaties of the man on the ground that he would
+stay and help him up, he urged his horse forward and galloped away
+as fast as he could. I remained for some time quiet, listening to
+various groans and exclamations uttered by the person on the
+ground; at length I said, 'Holloa! are you hurt?' 'Spare my life,
+and take all I have!' said the voice from the ground. 'Have they
+not done robbing you yet?' said I; 'when they have finished let me
+know, and I will come and help you.' 'Who is that?' said the
+voice; 'pray come and help me, and do me no mischief.' 'You were
+saying that some one was robbing you,' said I; 'don't think I shall
+come till he is gone away.' 'Then you ben't he?' said the voice.
+'Aren't you robbed?' said I. 'Can't say I be,' said the voice;
+'not yet at any rate; but who are you? I don't know you.' 'A
+traveller whom you and your partner were going to run over in this
+dark lane; you almost frightened me out of my senses.'
+'Frightened!' said the voice, in a louder tone; 'frightened! oh!'
+and thereupon I heard somebody getting upon his legs. This
+accomplished, the individual proceeded to attend to his horse, and
+with a little difficulty raised him upon his legs also. 'Aren't
+you hurt?' said I. 'Hurt!' said the voice; 'not I; don't think it,
+whatever the horse may be. I tell you what, my fellow, I thought
+you were a robber, and now I find you are not; I have a good mind--
+' 'To do what?' 'To serve you out; aren't you ashamed--?' 'At
+what?' said I; 'not to have robbed you? Shall I set about it now?'
+'Ha, ha!' said the man, dropping the bullying tone which he had
+assumed; 'you are joking--robbing! who talks of robbing? I wonder
+how my horse's knees are; not much hurt, I think--only mired.' The
+man, whoever he was, then got upon his horse; and, after moving him
+about a little, said, 'Good night, friend; where are you?' 'Here I
+am,' said I, 'just behind you.' 'You are, are you? Take that.' I
+know not what he did, but probably pricking his horse with the spur
+the animal kicked out violently; one of his heels struck me on the
+shoulder, but luckily missed my face; I fell back with the violence
+of the blow, whilst the fellow scampered off at a great rate.
+Stopping at some distance, he loaded me with abuse, and then,
+continuing his way at a rapid trot, I heard no more of him.
+
+'What a difference!' said I, getting up; 'last night I was feted in
+the hall of a rich genius, and to-night I am knocked down and mired
+in a dark lane by the heel of Master Wise's horse--I wonder who
+gave him that name? And yet he was wise enough to wreak his
+revenge upon me, and I was not wise enough to keep out of his way.
+Well, I am not much hurt, so it is of little consequence.'
+
+I now bethought me that, as I had a carriage of my own, I might as
+well make use of it; I therefore got into the cart, and, taking the
+reins in my hand, gave an encouraging cry to the pony, whereupon
+the sturdy little animal started again at as brisk a pace as if he
+had not already come many a long mile. I lay half reclining in the
+cart, holding the reins lazily, and allowing the animal to go just
+where he pleased, often wondering where he would conduct me. At
+length I felt drowsy, and my head sank upon my breast; I soon
+aroused myself, but it was only to doze again; this occurred
+several times. Opening my eyes after a doze somewhat longer than
+the others, I found that the drizzling rain had ceased, a corner of
+the moon was apparent in the heavens, casting a faint light; I
+looked around for a moment or two, but my eyes and brain were heavy
+with slumber, and I could scarcely distinguish where we were. I
+had a kind of dim consciousness that we were traversing an
+uninclosed country--perhaps a heath; I thought, however, that I saw
+certain large black objects looming in the distance, which I had a
+confused idea might be woods or plantations; the pony still moved
+at his usual pace. I did not find the jolting of the cart at all
+disagreeable, on the contrary, it had quite a somniferous effect
+upon me. Again my eyes closed; I opened them once more, but with
+less perception in them than before, looked forward, and, muttering
+something about woodlands, I placed myself in an easier posture
+than I had hitherto done, and fairly fell asleep.
+
+How long I continued in that state I am unable to say, but I
+believe for a considerable time; I was suddenly awakened by the
+ceasing of the jolting to which I had become accustomed, and of
+which I was perfectly sensible in my sleep. I started up and
+looked around me, the moon was still shining, and the face of the
+heaven was studded with stars; I found myself amidst a maze of
+bushes of various kinds, but principally hazel and holly, through
+which was a path or driftway with grass growing on either side,
+upon which the pony was already diligently browsing. I conjectured
+that this place had been one of the haunts of his former master,
+and, on dismounting and looking about, was strengthened in that
+opinion by finding a spot under an ash tree which, from its burnt
+and blackened appearance, seemed to have been frequently used as a
+fireplace. I will take up my quarters here, thought I; it is an
+excellent spot for me to commence my new profession in; I was quite
+right to trust myself to the guidance of the pony. Unharnessing
+the animal without delay, I permitted him to browse at free will on
+the grass, convinced that he would not wander far from a place to
+which he was so much attached; I then pitched the little tent close
+beside the ash tree to which I have alluded, and conveyed two or
+three articles into it, and instantly felt that I had commenced
+housekeeping for the first time in my life. Housekeeping, however,
+without a fire is a very sorry affair, something like the
+housekeeping of children in their toy houses; of this I was the
+more sensible from feeling very cold and shivering, owing to my
+late exposure to the rain, and sleeping in the night air.
+Collecting, therefore, all the dry sticks and furze I could find, I
+placed them upon the fireplace, adding certain chips and a billet
+which I found in the cart, it having apparently been the habit of
+Slingsby to carry with him a small store of fuel. Having then
+struck a spark in a tinder-box and lighted a match, I set fire to
+the combustible heap, and was not slow in raising a cheerful blaze;
+I then drew my cart near the fire, and, seating myself on one of
+the shafts, hung over the warmth with feelings of intense pleasure
+and satisfaction. Having continued in this posture for a
+considerable time, I turned my eyes to the heaven in the direction
+of a particular star; I, however, could not find the star, nor
+indeed many of the starry train, the greater number having fled,
+from which circumstance, and from the appearance of the sky, I
+concluded that morning was nigh. About this time I again began to
+feel drowsy; I therefore arose, and having prepared for myself a
+kind of couch in the tent, I flung myself upon it and went to
+sleep.
+
+I will not say that I was awakened in the morning by the carolling
+of birds, as I perhaps might if I were writing a novel; I awoke
+because, to use vulgar language, I had slept my sleep out, not
+because the birds were carolling around me in numbers, as they had
+probably been for hours without my hearing them. I got up and left
+my tent; the morning was yet more bright than that of the preceding
+day. Impelled by curiosity, I walked about endeavouring to
+ascertain to what place chance, or rather the pony, had brought me;
+following the driftway for some time, amidst bushes and stunted
+trees, I came to a grove of dark pines, through which it appeared
+to lead; I tracked it a few hundred yards, but seeing nothing but
+trees, and the way being wet and sloughy, owing to the recent rain,
+I returned on my steps, and, pursuing the path in another
+direction, came to a sandy road leading over a common, doubtless
+the one I had traversed the preceding night. My curiosity
+satisfied, I returned to my little encampment, and on the way
+beheld a small footpath on the left winding through the bushes,
+which had before escaped my observation. Having reached my tent
+and cart, I breakfasted on some of the provisions which I had
+procured the day before, and then proceeded to take a regular
+account of the stock formerly possessed by Slingsby the tinker, but
+now become my own by right of lawful purchase.
+
+Besides the pony, the cart, and the tent, I found I was possessed
+of a mattress stuffed with straw on which to lie, and a blanket to
+cover me, the last quite clean and nearly new; then there was a
+frying-pan and a kettle, the first for cooking any food which
+required cooking, and the second for heating any water which I
+might wish to heat. I likewise found an earthen teapot and two or
+three cups; of the first I should rather say I found the remains,
+it being broken in three parts, no doubt since it came into my
+possession, which would have precluded the possibility of my asking
+anybody to tea for the present, should anybody visit me, even
+supposing I had tea and sugar, which was not the case. I then
+overhauled what might more strictly be called the stock in trade;
+this consisted of various tools, an iron ladle, a chafing-pan and
+small bellows, sundry pans and kettles, the latter being of tin,
+with the exception of one which was of copper, all in a state of
+considerable dilapidation--if I may use the term; of these first
+Slingsby had spoken in particular, advising me to mend them as soon
+as possible, and to endeavour to sell them, in order that I might
+have the satisfaction of receiving some return upon the outlay
+which I had made. There was likewise a small quantity of block
+tin, sheet tin, and solder. 'This Slingsby,' said I, 'is certainly
+a very honest man, he has sold me more than my money's worth; I
+believe, however, there is something more in the cart.' Thereupon
+I rummaged the farther end of the cart, and, amidst a quantity of
+straw, I found a small anvil and bellows of that kind which are
+used in forges, and two hammers such as smiths use, one great, and
+the other small.
+
+The sight of these last articles caused me no little surprise, as
+no word which had escaped from the mouth of Slingsby had given me
+reason to suppose that he had ever followed the occupation of a
+smith; yet, if he had not, how did he come by them? I sat down
+upon the shaft, and pondered the question deliberately in my mind;
+at length I concluded that he had come by them by one of those
+numerous casualties which occur upon the roads, of which I, being a
+young hand upon the roads, must have a very imperfect conception;
+honestly, of course--for I scouted the idea that Slingsby would
+have stolen this blacksmith's gear--for I had the highest opinion
+of his honesty, which opinion I still retain at the present day,
+which is upwards of twenty years from the time of which I am
+speaking, during the whole of which period I have neither seen the
+poor fellow nor received any intelligence of him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXX
+
+
+
+New profession--Beautiful night--Jupiter--Sharp and shrill--The
+Rommany chi--All alone--Three-and-sixpence--What is Rommany? Be
+civil--Parraco tute--Slight start--She will be grateful--The
+rustling.
+
+I passed the greater part of the day in endeavouring to teach
+myself the mysteries of my new profession. I cannot say that I was
+very successful, but the time passed agreeably, and was therefore
+not ill spent. Towards evening I flung my work aside, took some
+refreshment, and afterwards a walk.
+
+This time I turned up the small footpath of which I have already
+spoken. It led in a zigzag manner through thickets of hazel,
+elder, and sweet-brier; after following its windings for somewhat
+better than a furlong, I heard a gentle sound of water, and
+presently came to a small rill, which ran directly across the path.
+I was rejoiced at the sight, for I had already experienced the want
+of water, which I yet knew must be nigh at hand, as I was in a
+place to all appearance occasionally frequented by wandering
+people, who I was aware never take up their quarters in places
+where water is difficult to be obtained. Forthwith I stretched
+myself on the ground, and took a long and delicious draught of the
+crystal stream, and then, seating myself in a bush, I continued for
+some time gazing on the water as it purled tinkling away in its
+channel through an opening in the hazels, and should have probably
+continued much longer had not the thought that I had left my
+property unprotected compelled me to rise and return to my
+encampment.
+
+Night came on, and a beautiful night it was; up rose the moon, and
+innumerable stars decked the firmament of heaven. I sat on the
+shaft, my eyes turned upwards. I had found it: there it was
+twinkling millions of miles above me, mightiest star of the system
+to which we belong: of all stars the one which has most interest
+for me--the star Jupiter.
+
+Why have I always taken an interest in thee, O Jupiter? I know
+nothing about thee, save what every child knows, that thou art a
+big star, whose only light is derived from moons. And is not that
+knowledge enough to make me feel an interest in thee? Ay, truly; I
+never look at thee without wondering what is going on in thee; what
+is life in Jupiter? That there is life in Jupiter who can doubt?
+There is life in our own little star, therefore there must be life
+in Jupiter, which is not a little star. But how different must
+life be in Jupiter from what it is in our own little star! Life
+here is life beneath the dear sun--life in Jupiter is life beneath
+moons--four moons--no single moon is able to illumine that vast
+bulk. All know what life is in our own little star; it is anything
+but a routine of happiness here, where the dear sun rises to us
+every day: then how sad and moping must life be in mighty Jupiter,
+on which no sun ever shines, and which is never lighted save by
+pale moonbeams! The thought that there is more sadness and
+melancholy in Jupiter than in this world of ours, where, alas!
+there is but too much, has always made me take a melancholy
+interest in that huge distant star.
+
+Two or three days passed by in much the same manner as the first.
+During the morning I worked upon my kettles, and employed the
+remaining part of the day as I best could. The whole of this time
+I only saw two individuals, rustics, who passed by my encampment
+without vouchsafing me a glance; they probably considered
+themselves my superiors, as perhaps they were.
+
+One very brilliant morning, as I sat at work in very good spirits,
+for by this time I had actually mended in a very creditable way, as
+I imagined, two kettles and a frying-pan, I heard a voice which
+seemed to proceed from the path leading to the rivulet; at first it
+sounded from a considerable distance, but drew nearer by degrees.
+I soon remarked that the tones were exceedingly sharp and shrill,
+with yet something of childhood in them. Once or twice I
+distinguished certain words in the song which the voice was
+singing; the words were--but no, I thought again I was probably
+mistaken--and then the voice ceased for a time; presently I heard
+it again, close to the entrance of the footpath; in another moment
+I heard it in the lane or glade in which stood my tent, where it
+abruptly stopped, but not before I had heard the very words which I
+at first thought I had distinguished.
+
+I turned my head; at the entrance of the footpath, which might be
+about thirty yards from the place where I was sitting, I perceived
+the figure of a young girl; her face was turned towards me, and she
+appeared to be scanning me and my encampment; after a little time
+she looked in the other direction, only for a moment, however;
+probably observing nothing in that quarter, she again looked
+towards me, and almost immediately stepped forward; and, as she
+advanced, sang the song which I had heard in the wood, the first
+words of which were those which I have already alluded to.
+
+
+'The Rommany chi
+And the Rommany chal
+Shall jaw tasaulor
+To drab the bawlor,
+And dook the gry
+Of the farming rye.'
+
+
+A very pretty song, thought I, falling again hard to work upon my
+kettle; a very pretty song, which bodes the farmers much good. Let
+them look to their cattle.
+
+'All alone here, brother?' said a voice close by me, in sharp but
+not disagreeable tones.
+
+I made no answer, but continued my work, click, click, with the
+gravity which became one of my profession. I allowed at least half
+a minute to elapse before I even lifted up my eyes.
+
+A girl of about thirteen was standing before me; her features were
+very pretty, but with a peculiar expression; her complexion was a
+clear olive, and her jet black hair hung back upon her shoulders.
+She was rather scantily dressed, and her arms and feet were bare;
+round her neck, however, was a handsome string of corals, with
+ornaments of gold; in her hand she held a bulrush.
+
+'All alone here, brother?' said the girl, as I looked up; 'all
+alone here, in the lane; where are your wife and children?'
+
+'Why do you call me brother?' said I; 'am no brother of yours. Do
+you take me for one of your people? I am no gypsy; not I, indeed!'
+
+'Don't be afraid, brother, you are no Roman--Roman indeed, you are
+not handsome enough to be a Roman; not black enough, tinker though
+you be. If I called you brother, it was because I didn't know what
+else to call you. Marry, come up, brother, I should be sorry to
+have you for a brother.'
+
+'Then you don't like me?'
+
+'Neither like you nor dislike you, brother; what will you have for
+that kekaubi?'
+
+'What's the use of talking to me in that unchristian way; what do
+you mean, young gentlewoman?'
+
+'Lord, brother, what a fool you are; every tinker knows what a
+kekaubi is. I was asking you what you would have for that kettle.'
+
+'Three-and-sixpence, young gentlewoman; isn't it well mended?'
+
+'Well mended! I could have done it better myself; three-and-
+sixpence! it's only fit to be played at football with.'
+
+'I will take no less for it, young gentlewoman; it has caused me a
+world of trouble.'
+
+'I never saw a worse mended kettle. I say, brother, your hair is
+white.'
+
+''Tis nature; your hair is black; nature, nothing but nature.'
+
+'I am young, brother; my hair is black--that's nature: you are
+young, brother; your hair is white--that's not nature.'
+
+'I can't help it if it be not, but it is nature after all; did you
+never see gray hair on the young?'
+
+'Never! I have heard it is true of a gray lad, and a bad one he
+was. Oh, so bad.'
+
+'Sit down on the grass, and tell me all about it, sister; do, to
+oblige me, pretty sister.'
+
+'Hey, brother, you don't speak as you did--you don't speak like a
+gorgio, you speak like one of us, you call me sister.'
+
+'As you call me brother; I am not an uncivil person after all,
+sister.'
+
+'I say, brother, tell me one thing, and look me in the face--there-
+-do you speak Rommany?'
+
+'Rommany! Rommany! what is Rommany?'
+
+'What is Rommany? our language to be sure; tell me, brother, only
+one thing, you don't speak Rommany?'
+
+'You say it.'
+
+'I don't say it, I wish to know. Do you speak Rommany?'
+
+'Do you mean thieves' slang--cant? no, I don't speak cant, don't
+like it, I only know a few words; they call a sixpence a tanner,
+don't they?'
+
+'I don't know,' said the girl, sitting down on the ground, 'I was
+almost thinking--well, never mind, you don't know Rommany. I say,
+brother, I think I should like to have the kekaubi.'
+
+'I thought you said it was badly mended?'
+
+'Yes, yes, brother, but--'
+
+'I thought you said it was only fit to be played at football with?'
+
+'Yes, yes, brother, but--'
+
+'What will you give for it?'
+
+'Brother, I am the poor person's child, I will give you sixpence
+for the kekaubi.'
+
+'Poor person's child; how came you by that necklace?'
+
+'Be civil, brother; am I to have the kekaubi?'
+
+'Not for sixpence; isn't the kettle nicely mended?'
+
+'I never saw a nicer mended kettle, brother; am I to have the
+kekaubi, brother?'
+
+'You like me then?'
+
+'I don't dislike you--I dislike no one; there's only one, and him I
+don't dislike, him I hate.'
+
+'Who is he?'
+
+'I scarcely know, I never saw him, but 'tis no affair of yours, you
+don't speak Rommany; you will let me have the kekaubi, pretty
+brother?'
+
+'You may have it, but not for sixpence; I'll give it to you.'
+
+'Parraco tute, that is, I thank you, brother; the rikkeni kekaubi
+is now mine. O, rare! I thank you kindly, brother.'
+
+Starting up, she flung the bulrush aside which she had hitherto
+held in her hand, and, seizing the kettle, she looked at it for a
+moment, and then began a kind of dance, flourishing the kettle over
+her head the while, and singing -
+
+
+'The Rommany chi
+And the Rommany chal
+Shall jaw tasaulor
+To drab the bawlor,
+And dook the gry
+Of the farming rye.
+
+
+Good-bye, brother, I must be going.'
+
+'Good-bye, sister; why do you sing that wicked song?'
+
+'Wicked song, hey, brother! you don't understand the song!'
+
+'Ha, ha! gypsy daughter,' said I, starting up and clapping my
+hands, 'I don't understand Rommany, don't I? You shall see; here's
+the answer to your gillie -
+
+
+'The Rommany chi
+And the Rommany chal,
+Love Luripen
+And dukkeripen,
+And hokkeripen,
+And every pen
+But Lachipen
+And tatchipen.'
+
+
+The girl, who had given a slight start when I began, remained for
+some time after I had concluded the song standing motionless as a
+statue, with the kettle in her hand. At length she came towards
+me, and stared me full in the face. 'Gray, tall, and talks
+Rommany,' said she to herself. In her countenance there was an
+expression which I had not seen before--an expression which struck
+me as being composed of fear, curiosity, and the deepest hate. It
+was momentary, however, and was succeeded by one smiling, frank,
+and open. 'Ha, ha, brother,' said she, 'well, I like you all the
+better for talking Rommany; it is a sweet language, isn't it?
+especially as you sing it. How did you pick it up? But you picked
+it up upon the roads, no doubt? Ha, it was funny in you to pretend
+not to know it, and you so flush with it all the time; it was not
+kind in you, however, to frighten the poor person's child so by
+screaming out, but it was kind in you to give the rikkeni kekaubi
+to the child of the poor person. She will be grateful to you; she
+will bring you her little dog to show you, her pretty juggal; the
+poor person's child will come and see you again; you are not going
+away to-day, I hope, or to-morrow, pretty brother, gray-haired
+brother--you are not going away to-morrow, I hope?'
+
+'Nor the next day,' said I, 'only to take a stroll to see if I can
+sell a kettle; good-bye, little sister, Rommany sister, dingy
+sister.'
+
+'Good-bye, tall brother,' said the girl, as she departed, singing
+
+
+'The Rommany chi,' etc.
+
+
+'There's something about that girl that I don't understand,' said I
+to myself; 'something mysterious. However, it is nothing to me,
+she knows not who I am, and if she did, what then?'
+
+Late that evening as I sat on the shaft of my cart in deep
+meditation, with my arms folded, I thought I heard a rustling in
+the bushes over against me. I turned my eyes in that direction,
+but saw nothing. 'Some bird,' said I; 'an owl, perhaps'; and once
+more I fell into meditation; my mind wandered from one thing to
+another--musing now on the structure of the Roman tongue--now on
+the rise and fall of the Persian power--and now on the powers
+vested in recorders at quarter-sessions. I was thinking what a
+fine thing it must be to be a recorder of the peace, when, lifting
+up my eyes, I saw right opposite, not a culprit at the bar, but,
+staring at me through a gap in the bush, a face wild and strange,
+half covered with gray hair; I only saw it a moment, the next it
+had disappeared.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXI
+
+
+
+Friend of Slingsby--All quiet--Danger--The two cakes--Children in
+the wood--Don't be angry--In deep thought--Temples throbbing--
+Deadly sick--Another blow--No answer--How old are you?--Play and
+sacrament--Heavy heart--Song of poison--Drow of gypsies--The dog--
+Ely's church--Get up, bebee--The vehicle--Can you speak?--The oil.
+
+The next day, at an early hour, I harnessed my little pony, and,
+putting my things in my cart, I went on my projected stroll.
+Crossing the moor, I arrived in about an hour at a small village,
+from which, after a short stay, I proceeded to another, and from
+thence to a third. I found that the name of Slingsby was well
+known in these parts.
+
+'If you are a friend of Slingsby you must be an honest lad,' said
+an ancient crone; 'you shall never want for work whilst I can give
+it you. Here, take my kettle, the bottom came out this morning,
+and lend me that of yours till you bring it back. I'm not afraid
+to trust you--not I. Don't hurry yourself, young man, if you don't
+come back for a fortnight I shan't have the worse opinion of you.'
+
+I returned to my quarters at evening, tired, but rejoiced at heart;
+I had work before me for several days, having collected various
+kekaubies which required mending, in place of those which I left
+behind--those which I had been employed upon during the last few
+days. I found all quiet in the lane or glade, and, unharnessing my
+little horse, I once more pitched my tent in the old spot beneath
+the ash, lighted my fire, ate my frugal meal, and then, after
+looking for some time at the heavenly bodies, and more particularly
+at the star Jupiter, I entered my tent, lay down upon my pallet,
+and went to sleep.
+
+Nothing occurred on the following day which requires any particular
+notice, nor indeed on the one succeeding that. It was about noon
+on the third day that I sat beneath the shade of the ash tree; I
+was not at work, for the weather was particularly hot, and I felt
+but little inclination to make any exertion. Leaning my back
+against the tree, I was not long in falling into a slumber; I
+particularly remember that slumber of mine beneath the ash tree,
+for it was about the sweetest slumber that I ever enjoyed; how long
+I continued in it I do not know; I could almost have wished that it
+had lasted to the present time. All of a sudden it appeared to me
+that a voice cried in my ear, 'Danger! danger! danger!' Nothing
+seemingly could be more distinct than the words which I heard; then
+an uneasy sensation came over me, which I strove to get rid of, and
+at last succeeded, for I awoke. The gypsy girl was standing just
+opposite to me, with her eyes fixed upon my countenance; a singular
+kind of little dog stood beside her.
+
+'Ha!' said I, 'was it you that cried danger? What danger is
+there?'
+
+'Danger, brother, there is no danger; what danger should there be?
+I called to my little dog, but that was in the wood; my little
+dog's name is not danger, but Stranger; what danger should there
+be, brother?'
+
+'What, indeed, except in sleeping beneath a tree; what is that you
+have got in your hand?'
+
+'Something for you,' said the girl, sitting down and proceeding to
+untie a white napkin; 'a pretty manricli, so sweet, so nice; when I
+went home to my people I told my grandbebee how kind you had been
+to the poor person's child, and when my grandbebee saw the kekaubi,
+she said, "Hir mi devlis, it won't do for the poor people to be
+ungrateful; by my God, I will bake a cake for the young harko
+mescro."'
+
+'But there are two cakes.'
+
+'Yes, brother, two cakes, both for you; my grandbebee meant them
+both for you--but list, brother, I will have one of them for
+bringing them. I know you will give me one, pretty brother, gray-
+haired brother--which shall I have, brother?'
+
+In the napkin were two round cakes, seemingly made of rich and
+costly compounds, and precisely similar in form, each weighing
+about half a pound.
+
+'Which shall I have, brother?' said the gypsy girl.
+
+'Whichever you please.'
+
+'No, brother, no, the cakes are yours, not mine. It is for you to
+say.'
+
+'Well, then, give me the one nearest you, and take the other.'
+
+'Yes, brother, yes,' said the girl; and taking the cakes, she flung
+them into the air two or three times, catching them as they fell,
+and singing the while. 'Pretty brother, gray-haired brother--here,
+brother,' said she, 'here is your cake, this other is mine.'
+
+'Are you sure,' said I, taking the cake, 'that this is the one I
+chose?'
+
+'Quite sure, brother; but if you like you can have mine; there's no
+difference, however--shall I eat?'
+
+'Yes, sister, eat.'
+
+'See, brother, I do; now, brother, eat, pretty brother, gray-haired
+brother.'
+
+'I am not hungry.'
+
+'Not hungry! well, what then--what has being hungry to do with the
+matter? It is my grandbebee's cake which was sent because you were
+kind to the poor person's child; eat, brother, eat, and we shall be
+like the children in the wood that the gorgios speak of.'
+
+'The children in the wood had nothing to eat.'
+
+'Yes, they had hips and haws; we have better. Eat, brother.'
+
+'See, sister, I do,' and I ate a piece of the cake.
+
+'Well, brother, how do you like it?' said the girl, looking fixedly
+at me.
+
+'It is very rich and sweet, and yet there is something strange
+about it; I don't think I shall eat any more.'
+
+'Fie, brother, fie, to find fault with the poor person's cake; see,
+I have nearly eaten mine.'
+
+'That's a pretty little dog.'
+
+'Is it not, brother? that's my juggal, my little sister, as I call
+her.'
+
+'Come here, juggal,' said I to the animal.
+
+'What do you want with my juggal?' said the girl.
+
+'Only to give her a piece of cake,' said I, offering the dog a
+piece which I had just broken off.
+
+'What do you mean?' said the girl, snatching the dog away; 'my
+grandbebee's cake is not for dogs.'
+
+'Why, I just now saw you give the animal a piece of yours.'
+
+'You lie, brother, you saw no such thing; but I see how it is, you
+wish to affront the poor person's child. I shall go to my house.'
+
+'Keep still, and don't be angry; see, I have eaten the piece which
+I offered the dog. I meant no offence. It is a sweet cake after
+all.'
+
+'Isn't it, brother? I am glad you like it. Offence, brother, no
+offence at all! I am so glad you like my grandbebee's cake, but
+she will be wanting me at home. Eat one piece more of grandbebee's
+cake, and I will go.'
+
+'I am not hungry, I will put the rest by.'
+
+'One piece more before I go, handsome brother, gray-haired
+brother.'
+
+'I will not eat any more, I have already eaten more than I wished
+to oblige you; if you must go, good-day to you.'
+
+The girl rose upon her feet, looked hard at me, then at the
+remainder of the cake which I held in my hand, and then at me
+again, and then stood for a moment or two, as if in deep thought;
+presently an air of satisfaction came over her countenance, she
+smiled and said, 'Well, brother, well, do as you please, I merely
+wished you to eat because you have been so kind to the poor
+person's child. She loves you so, that she could have wished to
+have seen you eat it all; good-bye, brother, I daresay when I am
+gone you will eat some more of it, and if you don't, I daresay you
+have eaten enough to--to--show your love for us. After all it was
+a poor person's cake, a Rommany manricli, and all you gorgios are
+somewhat gorgious. Farewell, brother, pretty brother, gray-haired
+brother. Come, juggal.'
+
+I remained under the ash tree seated on the grass for a minute or
+two, and endeavoured to resume the occupation in which I had been
+engaged before I fell asleep, but I felt no inclination for labour.
+I then thought I would sleep again, and once more reclined against
+the tree, and slumbered for some little time, but my sleep was more
+agitated than before. Something appeared to bear heavy on my
+breast, I struggled in my sleep, fell on the grass, and awoke; my
+temples were throbbing, there was a burning in my eyes, and my
+mouth felt parched; the oppression about the chest which I had felt
+in my sleep still continued. 'I must shake off these feelings,'
+said I, 'and get upon my legs.' I walked rapidly up and down upon
+the green sward; at length, feeling my thirst increase, I directed
+my steps down the narrow path to the spring which ran amidst the
+bushes; arriving there, I knelt down and drank of the water, but on
+lifting up my head I felt thirstier than before; again I drank, but
+with the like result; I was about to drink for the third time, when
+I felt a dreadful qualm which instantly robbed me of nearly all my
+strength. What can be the matter with me? thought I; but I suppose
+I have made myself ill by drinking cold water. I got up and made
+the best of my way back to my tent; before I reached it the qualm
+had seized me again, and I was deadly sick. I flung myself on my
+pallet, qualm succeeded qualm, but in the intervals my mouth was
+dry and burning, and I felt a frantic desire to drink, but no water
+was at hand, and to reach the spring once more was impossible; the
+qualms continued, deadly pains shot through my whole frame; I could
+bear my agonies no longer, and I fell into a trance or swoon. How
+long I continued therein I know not; on recovering, however, I felt
+somewhat better, and attempted to lift my head off my couch; the
+next moment, however, the qualms and pains returned, if possible,
+with greater violence than before. I am dying, thought I, like a
+dog, without any help; and then methought I heard a sound at a
+distance like people singing, and then once more I relapsed into my
+swoon.
+
+I revived just as a heavy blow sounded upon the canvas of the tent.
+I started, but my condition did not permit me to rise; again the
+same kind of blow sounded upon the canvas; I thought for a moment
+of crying out and requesting assistance, but an inexplicable
+something chained my tongue, and now I heard a whisper on the
+outside of the tent. 'He does not move, bebee,' said a voice which
+I knew. 'I should not wonder if it has done for him already;
+however, strike again with your ran'; and then there was another
+blow, after which another voice cried aloud in a strange tone, 'Is
+the gentleman of the house asleep, or is he taking his dinner?' I
+remained quite silent and motionless, and in another moment the
+voice continued, 'What, no answer? what can the gentleman of the
+house be about that he makes no answer? perhaps the gentleman of
+the house may be darning his stockings?' Thereupon a face peered
+into the door of the tent, at the farther extremity of which I was
+stretched. It was that of a woman, but owing to the posture in
+which she stood, with her back to the light, and partly owing to a
+large straw bonnet, I could distinguish but very little of the
+features of her countenance. I had, however, recognised her voice;
+it was that of my old acquaintance, Mrs. Herne. 'Ho, ho, sir!'
+said she, 'here you are. Come here, Leonora,' said she to the
+gypsy girl, who pressed in at the other side of the door; 'here is
+the gentleman, not asleep, but only stretched out after dinner.
+Sit down on your ham, child, at the door, I shall do the same.
+There--you have seen me before, sir, have you not?'
+
+'The gentleman makes no answer, bebee; perhaps he does not know
+you.'
+
+'I have known him of old, Leonora,' said Mrs. Herne; 'and, to tell
+you the truth, though I spoke to him just now, I expected no
+answer.'
+
+'It's a way he has, bebee, I suppose?'
+
+'Yes, child, it's a way he has.'
+
+'Take off your bonnet, bebee, perhaps he cannot see your face.'
+
+'I do not think that will be of much use, child; however, I will
+take off my bonnet--there--and shake out my hair--there--you have
+seen this hair before, sir, and this face--'
+
+'No answer, bebee.'
+
+'Though the one was not quite so gray, nor the other so wrinkled.'
+
+'How came they so, bebee?'
+
+'All along of this gorgio, child.'
+
+'The gentleman in the house, you mean, bebee?'
+
+'Yes, child, the gentleman in the house. God grant that I may
+preserve my temper. Do you know, sir, my name? My name is Herne,
+which signifies a hairy individual, though neither gray-haired nor
+wrinkled. It is not the nature of the Hernes to be gray or
+wrinkled, even when they are old, and I am not old.'
+
+'How old are you, bebee?'
+
+'Sixty-five years, child--an inconsiderable number. My mother was
+a hundred and one--a considerable age--when she died, yet she had
+not one gray hair, and not more than six wrinkles--an
+inconsiderable number.'
+
+'She had no griefs, bebee?'
+
+'Plenty, child, but not like mine.'
+
+'Not quite so hard to bear, bebee?'
+
+'No, child; my head wanders when I think of them. After the death
+of my husband, who came to his end untimeously, I went to live with
+a daughter of mine, married out among certain Romans who walk about
+the eastern counties, and with whom for some time I found a home
+and pleasant society, for they lived right Romanly, which gave my
+heart considerable satisfaction, who am a Roman born, and hope to
+die so. When I say right Romanly, I mean that they kept to
+themselves, and were not much given to blabbing about their private
+matters in promiscuous company. Well, things went on in this way
+for some time, when one day my son-in-law brings home a young
+gorgio of singular and outrageous ugliness, and, without much
+preamble, says to me and mine, "This is my pal, ain't he a beauty?
+fall down and worship him." "Hold," said I, "I for one will never
+consent to such foolishness."'
+
+'That was right, bebee, I think I should have done the same.'
+
+'I think you would, child; but what was the profit of it? The
+whole party makes an almighty of this gorgio, lets him into their
+ways, says prayers of his making, till things come to such a pass
+that my own daughter says to me, "I shall buy myself a veil and
+fan, and treat myself to a play and sacrament." "Don't," says I;
+says she, "I should like for once in my life to be courtesied to as
+a Christian gentlewoman."'
+
+'Very foolish of her, bebee.'
+
+'Wasn't it, child? Where was I? At the fan and sacrament; with a
+heavy heart I put seven score miles between us, came back to the
+hairy ones, and found them over-given to gorgious companions; said
+I, "Foolish manners is catching; all this comes of that there
+gorgio." Answers the child Leonora, "Take comfort, bebee; I hate
+the gorgios as much as you do."'
+
+'And I say so again, bebee, as much or more.'
+
+'Time flows on, I engage in many matters, in most miscarry. Am
+sent to prison; says I to myself, I am become foolish. Am turned
+out of prison, and go back to the hairy ones, who receive me not
+over courteously; says I, for their unkindness, and my own
+foolishness, all the thanks to that gorgio. Answers to me the
+child, "I wish I could set eyes upon him, bebee."'
+
+'I did so, bebee; go on.'
+
+'"How shall I know him, bebee?" says the child. "Young and gray,
+tall, and speaks Romanly." Runs to me the child, and says, "I've
+found him, bebee." "Where, child?" says I. "Come with me, bebee,"
+says the child. "That's he," says I, as I looked at my gentleman
+through the hedge.'
+
+'Ha, ha! bebee, and here he lies, poisoned like a hog.'
+
+'You have taken drows, sir,' said Mrs. Herne; 'do you hear, sir?
+drows; tip him a stave, child, of the song of poison.'
+
+And thereupon the girl clapped her hands, and sang -
+
+
+'The Rommany churl
+And the Rommany girl
+To-morrow shall hie
+To poison the sty,
+And bewitch on the mead
+The farmer's steed.'
+
+
+'Do you hear that, sir?' said Mrs. Herne; 'the child has tipped you
+a stave of the song of poison: that is, she has sung it
+Christianly, though perhaps you would like to hear it Romanly; you
+were always fond of what was Roman. Tip it him Romanly, child.'
+
+'He has heard it Romanly already, bebee; 'twas by that I found him
+out, as I told you.'
+
+'Halloo, sir, are you sleeping? you have taken drows; the gentleman
+makes no answer. God give me patience!'
+
+'And what if he doesn't, bebee; isn't he poisoned like a hog?
+Gentleman, indeed! why call him gentleman? if he ever was one he's
+broke, and is now a tinker, a worker of blue metal.'
+
+'That's his way, child, to-day a tinker, to-morrow something else;
+and as for being drabbed, I don't know what to say about it.'
+
+'Not drabbed! what do you mean, bebee? but look there, bebee; ha,
+ha, look at the gentleman's motions.'
+
+'He is sick, child, sure enough. Ho, ho! sir, you have taken
+drows; what, another throe! writhe, sir, writhe; the hog died by
+the drow of gypsies; I saw him stretched at evening. That's
+yourself, sir. There is no hope, sir, no help, you have taken
+drow; shall I tell you your fortune, sir, your dukkerin? God bless
+you, pretty gentleman, much trouble will you have to suffer, and
+much water to cross; but never mind, pretty gentleman, you shall be
+fortunate at the end, and those who hate shall take off their hats
+to you.'
+
+'Hey, bebee!' cried the girl; 'what is this? what do you mean? you
+have blessed the gorgio!'
+
+'Blessed him! no, sure; what did I say? Oh, I remember, I'm mad;
+well, I can't help it, I said what the dukkerin dook told me; woe's
+me, he'll get up yet.'
+
+'Nonsense, bebee! Look at his motions, he's drabbed, spite of
+dukkerin.'
+
+'Don't say so, child; he's sick, 'tis true, but don't laugh at
+dukkerin, only folks do that that know no better. I, for one, will
+never laugh at the dukkerin dook. Sick again; I wish he was gone.'
+
+'He'll soon be gone, bebee; let's leave him. He's as good as gone;
+look there, he's dead.'
+
+'No, he's not, he'll get up--I feel it; can't we hasten him?'
+
+'Hasten him! yes, to be sure; set the dog upon him. Here, juggal,
+look in there, my dog.'
+
+The dog made its appearance at the door of the tent, and began to
+bark and tear up the ground.
+
+'At him, juggal, at him; he wished to poison, to drab you.
+Halloo!'
+
+The dog barked violently, and seemed about to spring at my face,
+but retreated.
+
+'The dog won't fly at him, child; he flashed at the dog with his
+eye, and scared him. He'll get up.'
+
+'Nonsense, bebee! you make me angry; how should he get up?'
+
+'The dook tells me so, and, what's more, I had a dream. I thought
+I was at York, standing amidst a crowd to see a man hung, and the
+crowd shouted, "There he comes!" and I looked, and, lo! it was the
+tinker; before I could cry with joy I was whisked away, and I found
+myself in Ely's big church, which was chock full of people to hear
+the dean preach, and all eyes were turned to the big pulpit; and
+presently I heard them say, "There he mounts!" and I looked up to
+the big pulpit, and, lo! the tinker was in the pulpit, and he
+raised his arm and began to preach. Anon, I found myself at York
+again, just as the drop fell, and I looked up, and I saw not the
+tinker, but my own self hanging in the air.'
+
+'You are going mad, bebee; if you want to hasten him, take your
+stick and poke him in the eye.'
+
+'That will be of no use, child, the dukkerin tells me so; but I
+will try what I can do. Halloo, tinker! you must introduce
+yourself into a quiet family, and raise confusion--must you? You
+must steal its language, and, what was never done before, write it
+down Christianly--must you? Take that--and that'; and she stabbed
+violently with her stick towards the end of the tent.
+
+'That's right, bebee, you struck his face; now once more, and let
+it be in the eye. Stay, what's that? get up, bebee.'
+
+'What's the matter, child?'
+
+'Some one is coming, come away.'
+
+'Let me make sure of him, child; he'll be up yet.' And thereupon
+Mrs. Herne, rising, leaned forward into the tent, and, supporting
+herself against the pole, took aim in the direction of the farther
+end. 'I will thrust out his eye,' said she; and, lunging with her
+stick, she would probably have accomplished her purpose had not at
+that moment the pole of the tent given way, whereupon she fell to
+the ground, the canvas falling upon her and her intended victim.
+
+'Here's a pretty affair, bebee,' screamed the girl.
+
+'He'll get up, yet,' said Mrs. Herne, from beneath the canvas.
+
+'Get up!--get up yourself; where are you? where is your--Here,
+there, bebee, here's the door; there, make haste, they are coming.'
+
+'He'll get up yet,' said Mrs. Herne, recovering her breath; 'the
+dock tells me so.'
+
+'Never mind him or the dook; he is drabbed; come away, or we shall
+be grabbed--both of us.'
+
+'One more blow, I know where his head lies.'
+
+'You are mad, bebee; leave the fellow--gorgio avella.'
+
+And thereupon the females hurried away.
+
+A vehicle of some kind was evidently drawing nigh; in a little time
+it came alongside of the place where lay the fallen tent, and
+stopped suddenly. There was a silence for a moment, and then a
+parley ensued between two voices, one of which was that of a woman.
+It was not in English, but in a deep guttural tongue.
+
+'Peth yw hono sydd yn gorwedd yna ar y ddaear?' said a masculine
+voice.
+
+'Yn wirionedd--I do not know what it can be,' said the female
+voice, in the same tongue.
+
+'Here is a cart, and there are tools; but what is that on the
+ground?'
+
+'Something moves beneath it; and what was that--a groan?'
+
+'Shall I get down?'
+
+'Of course, Peter, some one may want your help?
+
+'Then I will get down, though I do not like this place; it is
+frequented by Egyptians, and I do not like their yellow faces, nor
+their clibberty clabber, as Master Ellis Wyn says. Now I am down.
+It is a tent, Winifred, and see, here is a boy beneath it.
+Merciful father! what a face.'
+
+A middle-aged man, with a strongly marked and serious countenance,
+dressed in sober-coloured habiliments, had lifted up the stifling
+folds of the tent, and was bending over me. 'Can you speak, my
+lad?' said he in English; 'what is the matter with you? if you
+could but tell me, I could perhaps help you--' 'What is that you
+say? I can't hear you. I will kneel down'; and he flung himself
+on the ground, and placed his ear close to my mouth. 'Now speak if
+you can. Hey! what! no, sure, God forbid!' then starting up, he
+cried to a female who sat in the cart, anxiously looking on--
+'Gwenwyn! gwenwyn! yw y gwas wedi ei gwenwynaw. The oil!
+Winifred, the oil!'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXII
+
+
+
+Desired effect--The three oaks--Winifred--Things of time--With
+God's will--The preacher--Creature comforts--Croesaw--Welsh and
+English--Mayor of Chester.
+
+The oil, which the strangers compelled me to take, produced the
+desired effect, though, during at least two hours, it was very
+doubtful whether or not my life would be saved. At the end of that
+period the man said that with the blessing of God he would answer
+for my life. He then demanded whether I thought I could bear to be
+removed from the place in which we were; 'for I like it not,' he
+continued, 'as something within me tells me that it is not good for
+any of us to be here.' I told him, as well as I was able, that I,
+too, should be glad to leave the place; whereupon, after collecting
+my things, he harnessed my pony, and, with the assistance of the
+woman, he contrived to place me in the cart; he then gave me a
+draught out of a small phial, and we set forward at a slow pace,
+the man walking by the side of the cart in which I lay. It is
+probable that the draught consisted of a strong opiate, for after
+swallowing it I fell into a deep slumber; on my awaking, I found
+that the shadows of night had enveloped the earth--we were still
+moving on. Shortly, however, after descending a declivity, we
+turned into a lane, at the entrance of which was a gate. This lane
+conducted to a meadow, through the middle of which ran a small
+brook; it stood between two rising grounds; that on the left, which
+was on the farther side of the water, was covered with wood, whilst
+the one on the right, which was not so high, was crowned with the
+white walls of what appeared to be a farmhouse.
+
+Advancing along the meadow, we presently came to a place where grew
+three immense oaks, almost on the side of the brook, over which
+they flung their arms, so as to shade it as with a canopy; the
+ground beneath was bare of grass, and nearly as hard and smooth as
+the floor of a barn. Having led his own cart on one side of the
+midmost tree, and my own on the other, the stranger said to me,
+'This is the spot where my wife and myself generally tarry in the
+summer season, when we come into these parts. We are about to pass
+the night here. I suppose you will have no objection to do the
+same? Indeed, I do not see what else you could do under present
+circumstances.' After receiving my answer, in which I, of course,
+expressed my readiness to assent to his proposal, he proceeded to
+unharness his horse, and, feeling myself much better, I got down,
+and began to make the necessary preparations for passing the night
+beneath the oak.
+
+Whilst thus engaged, I felt myself touched on the shoulder, and,
+looking round, perceived the woman, whom the stranger called
+Winifred, standing close to me. The moon was shining brightly upon
+her, and I observed that she was very good-looking, with a composed
+yet cheerful expression of countenance; her dress was plain and
+primitive, very much resembling that of a Quaker. She held a straw
+bonnet in her hand. 'I am glad to see thee moving about, young
+man,' said she, in a soft, placid tone; 'I could scarcely have
+expected it. Thou must be wondrous strong; many, after what thou
+hast suffered, would not have stood on their feet for weeks and
+months. What do I say?--Peter, my husband, who is skilled in
+medicine, just now told me that not one in five hundred would have
+survived what thou hast this day undergone; but allow me to ask
+thee one thing, Hast thou returned thanks to God for thy
+deliverance?' I made no answer, and the woman, after a pause,
+said, 'Excuse me, young man, but do you know anything of God?'
+'Very little,' I replied, 'but I should say He must be a wondrous
+strong person, if He made all those big bright things up above
+there, to say nothing of the ground on which we stand, which bears
+beings like these oaks, each of which is fifty times as strong as
+myself, and will live twenty times as long.' The woman was silent
+for some moments, and then said, 'I scarcely know in what spirit
+thy words are uttered. If thou art serious, however, I would
+caution thee against supposing that the power of God is more
+manifested in these trees, or even in those bright stars above us,
+than in thyself--they are things of time, but thou art a being
+destined to an eternity; it depends upon thyself whether thy
+eternity shall be one of joy or sorrow.'
+
+Here she was interrupted by the man, who exclaimed from the other
+side of the tree, 'Winifred, it is getting late, you had better go
+up to the house on the hill to inform our friends of our arrival,
+or they will have retired for the night.' 'True,' said Winifred,
+and forthwith wended her way to the house in question, returning
+shortly with another woman, whom the man, speaking in the same
+language which I had heard him first use, greeted by the name of
+Mary; the woman replied in the same tongue, but almost immediately
+said, in English, 'We hoped to have heard you speak to-night,
+Peter, but we cannot expect that now, seeing that it is so late,
+owing to your having been detained by the way, as Winifred tells
+me; nothing remains for you to do now but to sup--to-morrow, with
+God's will, we shall hear you.' 'And to-night, also, with God's
+will, provided you be so disposed. Let those of your family come
+hither.' 'They will be hither presently,' said Mary, 'for knowing
+that thou art arrived, they will, of course, come and bid thee
+welcome.' And scarcely had she spoke, when I beheld a party of
+people descending the moonlit side of the hill. They soon arrived
+at the place where we were; they might amount in all to twelve
+individuals. The principal person was a tall, athletic man, of
+about forty, dressed like a plain country farmer; this was, I soon
+found, the husband of Mary; the rest of the group consisted of the
+children of these two, and their domestic servants. One after
+another they all shook Peter by the hand, men and women, boys and
+girls, and expressed their joy at seeing him. After which he said,
+'Now, friends, if you please, I will speak a few words to you.' A
+stool was then brought him from the cart, which he stepped on, and
+the people arranging themselves round him, some standing, some
+seated on the ground, he forthwith began to address them in a
+clear, distinct voice; and the subject of his discourse was the
+necessity, in all human beings, of a change of heart.
+
+The preacher was better than his promise, for, instead of speaking
+a few words, he preached for at least three-quarters of an hour;
+none of the audience, however, showed the slightest symptom of
+weariness; on the contrary, the hope of each individual appeared to
+hang upon the words which proceeded from his mouth. At the
+conclusion of the sermon or discourse the whole assembly again
+shook Peter by the hand, and returned to their house, the mistress
+of the family saying, as she departed, 'I shall soon be back,
+Peter; I go but to make arrangements for the supper of thyself and
+company'; and, in effect, she presently returned, attended by a
+young woman, who bore a tray in her hands. 'Set it down, Jessy,'
+said the mistress to the girl, 'and then betake thyself to thy
+rest, I shall remain here for a little time to talk with my
+friends.' The girl departed, and the preacher and the two females
+placed themselves on the ground about the tray. The man gave
+thanks, and himself and his wife appeared to be about to eat, when
+the latter suddenly placed her hand upon his arm, and said
+something to him in a low voice, whereupon he exclaimed, 'Ay,
+truly, we were both forgetful'; and then getting up, he came
+towards me, who stood a little way off, leaning against the wheel
+of my cart; and, taking me by the hand, he said, 'Pardon us, young
+man, we were both so engaged in our own creature-comforts, that we
+forgot thee, but it is not too late to repair our fault; wilt thou
+not join us, and taste our bread and milk?' 'I cannot eat,' I
+replied, 'but I think I could drink a little milk'; whereupon he
+led me to the rest, and seating me by his side, he poured some milk
+into a horn cup, saying, '"Croesaw." That,' added he, with a
+smile, 'is Welsh for welcome.'
+
+The fare upon the tray was of the simplest description, consisting
+of bread, cheese, milk, and curds. My two friends partook with a
+good appetite. 'Mary,' said the preacher, addressing himself to
+the woman of the house, 'every time I come to visit thee, I find
+thee less inclined to speak Welsh. I suppose, in a little time,
+thou wilt entirely have forgotten it; hast thou taught it to any of
+thy children?' 'The two eldest understand a few words,' said the
+woman, 'but my husband does not wish them to learn it; he says
+sometimes, jocularly, that though it pleased him to marry a Welsh
+wife, it does not please him to have Welsh children. Who, I have
+heard him say, would be a Welshman, if he could be an Englishman?'
+'I for one,' said the preacher, somewhat hastily; 'not to be king
+of all England would I give up my birthright as a Welshman. Your
+husband is an excellent person, Mary, but I am afraid he is
+somewhat prejudiced.' 'You do him justice, Peter, in saying that
+he is an excellent person,' sail the woman; 'as to being
+prejudiced, I scarcely know what to say, but he thinks that two
+languages in the same kingdom are almost as bad as two kings.'
+'That's no bad observation,' said the preacher, 'and it is
+generally the case; yet, thank God, the Welsh and English go on
+very well, side by side, and I hope will do so till the Almighty
+calls all men to their long account.' 'They jog on very well now,'
+said the woman; 'but I have heard my husband say that it was not
+always so, and that the Welsh, in old times, were a violent and
+ferocious people, for that once they hanged the mayor of Chester.'
+'Ha, ha!' said the preacher, and his eyes flashed in the moonlight;
+'he told you that, did he?' 'Yes,' said Mary; 'once, when the
+mayor of Chester, with some of his people, was present at one of
+the fairs over the border, a quarrel arose between the Welsh and
+the English, and the Welsh beat the English, and hanged the mayor.'
+'Your husband is a clever man,' said Peter, 'and knows a great
+deal; did he tell you the name of the leader of the Welsh? No!
+then I will: the leader of the Welsh on that occasion was -. He
+was a powerful chieftain, and there was an old feud between him and
+the men of Chester. Afterwards, when two hundred of the men of
+Chester invaded his country to take revenge for their mayor, he
+enticed them into a tower, set fire to it, and burnt them all.
+That--was a very fine, noble--God forgive me, what was I about to
+say--a very bad, violent man; but, Mary, this is very carnal and
+unprofitable conversation, and in holding it we set a very bad
+example to the young man here--let us change the subject.'
+
+They then began to talk on religious matters. At length Mary
+departed to her abode, and the preacher and his wife retired to
+their tilted cart.
+
+'Poor fellow, he seems to be almost brutally ignorant,' said Peter,
+addressing his wife in their native language, after they had bidden
+me farewell for the night.
+
+'I am afraid he is,' said Winifred, 'yet my heart warms to the poor
+lad, he seems so forlorn.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXIII
+
+
+
+Morning hymn--Much alone--John Bunyan--Beholden to nobody--Sixty-
+five--Sober greeting--Early Sabbaths--Finny brood--The porch--No
+fortune-telling--The master's niece--Doing good--Two or three
+things--Groans and voices--Pechod Ysprydd Glan.
+
+I slept soundly during that night, partly owing to the influence of
+the opiate. Early in the morning I was awakened by the voices of
+Peter and his wife, who were singing a morning hymn in their own
+language. Both subsequently prayed long and fervently. I lay
+still till their devotions were completed, and then left my tent.
+'Good morning,' said Peter, 'how dost thou feel?' 'Much better,'
+said I, 'than I could have expected.' 'I am glad of it,' said
+Peter. 'Art thou hungry? yonder comes our breakfast,' pointing to
+the same young woman I had seen the preceding night, who was again
+descending the hill bearing the tray upon her head.
+
+'What dust thou intend to do, young man, this day?' said Peter,
+when we had about half finished breakfast. 'Do,' said I; 'as I do
+other days, what I can.' 'And dost thou pass this day as thou dost
+other days?' said Peter. 'Why not?' said I; 'what is there in this
+day different from the rest? it seems to be of the same colour as
+yesterday.' 'Art thou aware,' said the wife, interposing, 'what
+day it is? that it is Sabbath? that it is Sunday?' 'No,' said I,
+'I did not know that it was Sunday.' 'And how did that happen?'
+said Winifred, with a sigh. 'To tell you the truth,' said I, 'I
+live very much alone, and pay very little heed to the passing of
+time.' 'And yet of what infinite importance is time,' said
+Winifred. 'Art thou not aware that every year brings thee nearer
+to thy end?' 'I do not think,' said I, 'that I am so near my end
+as I was yesterday.' 'Yes, thou art,' said the woman; 'thou wast
+not doomed to die yesterday; an invisible hand was watching over
+thee yesterday; but thy day will come, therefore improve the time;
+be grateful that thou wast saved yesterday; and, oh! reflect on one
+thing; if thou hadst died yesterday, where wouldst thou have been
+now?' 'Cast into the earth, perhaps,' said I. 'I have heard Mr.
+Petulengro say that to be cast into the earth is the natural end of
+man.' 'Who is Mr. Petulengro?' said Peter, interrupting his wife,
+as she was about to speak. 'Master of the horse-shoe,' said I;
+'and, according to his own account, king of Egypt.' 'I
+understand,' said Peter, 'head of some family of wandering
+Egyptians--they are a race utterly godless. Art thou of them?--but
+no, thou art not, thou hast not their yellow blood. I suppose thou
+belongest to the family of wandering artisans called -. I do not
+like you the worse for belonging to them. A mighty speaker of old
+sprang up from amidst that family.' 'Who was he?' said I. 'John
+Bunyan,' replied Peter, reverently, 'and the mention of his name
+reminds me that I have to preach this day; wilt thou go and hear?
+the distance is not great, only half a mile.' 'No,' said I, 'I
+will not go and hear.' 'Wherefore?' said Peter. 'I belong to the
+church,' said I, 'and not to the congregations.' 'Oh! the pride of
+that church,' said Peter, addressing his wife in their own tongue,
+'exemplified even in the lowest and most ignorant of its members.
+Then thou, doubtless, meanest to go to church,' said Peter, again
+addressing me; 'there is a church on the other side of that wooded
+hill.' 'No,' said I, 'I do not mean to go to church.' 'May I ask
+thee wherefore?' said Peter. 'Because,' said I, 'I prefer
+remaining beneath the shade of these trees, listening to the sound
+of the leaves and the tinkling of the waters.'
+
+'Then thou intendest to remain here?' said Peter, looking fixedly
+at me. 'If I do not intrude,' said I; 'but if I do, I will wander
+away; I wish to be beholden to nobody--perhaps you wish me to go?'
+'On the contrary,' said Peter, 'I wish you to stay. I begin to see
+something in thee which has much interest for me; but we must now
+bid thee farewell for the rest of the day, the time is drawing nigh
+for us to repair to the place of preaching; before we leave thee
+alone, however, I should wish to ask thee a question--Didst thou
+seek thy own destruction yesterday, and didst thou wilfully take
+that poison?' 'No,' said I; 'had I known there had been poison in
+the cake I certainly should not have taken it.' 'And who gave it
+thee?' said Peter. 'An enemy of mine,' I replied. 'Who is thy
+enemy?' 'An Egyptian sorceress and poison-monger.' 'Thy enemy is
+a female. I fear thou hadst given her cause to hate thee--of what
+did she complain?' 'That I had stolen the tongue out of her head.'
+'I do not understand thee--is she young?' 'About sixty-five.'
+
+Here Winifred interposed. 'Thou didst call her just now by hard
+names, young man,' said she; 'I trust thou dost bear no malice
+against her.' 'No,' said I, 'I bear no malice against her.' 'Thou
+art not wishing to deliver her into the hand of what is called
+justice?' 'By no means,' said I; 'I have lived long enough upon
+the roads not to cry out for the constable when my finger is
+broken. I consider this poisoning as an accident of the roads; one
+of those to which those who travel are occasionally subject.' 'In
+short, thou forgivest thine adversary?' 'Both now and for ever,'
+said I. 'Truly,' said Winifred, 'the spirit which the young man
+displayeth pleases me much; I should be loth that he left us yet.
+I have no doubt that, with the blessing of God, and a little of thy
+exhortation, he will turn out a true Christian before he leaveth
+us.' 'My exhortation!' said Peter, and a dark shade passed over
+his countenance; 'thou forgettest what I am--I--I--but I am
+forgetting myself; the Lord's will be done; and now put away the
+things, for I perceive that our friends are coming to attend us to
+the place of meeting.'
+
+Again the family which I had seen the night before descended the
+hill from their abode. They were now dressed in their Sunday's
+best. The master of the house led the way. They presently joined
+us, when a quiet sober greeting ensued on each side. After a
+little time Peter shook me by the hand and bade me farewell till
+the evening; Winifred did the same, adding that she hoped I should
+be visited by sweet and holy thoughts. The whole party then moved
+off in the direction by which we had come the preceding night,
+Peter and the master leading the way, followed by Winifred and the
+mistress of the family. As I gazed on their departing forms, I
+felt almost inclined to follow them to their place of worship. I
+did not stir, however, but remained leaning against my oak with my
+hands behind me.
+
+And after a time I sat me down at the foot of the oak with my face
+turned towards the water, and, folding my hands, I fell into deep
+meditation. I thought on the early Sabbaths of my life, and the
+manner in which I was wont to pass them. How carefully I said my
+prayers when I got up on the Sabbath morn, and how carefully I
+combed my hair and brushed my clothes in order that I might do
+credit to the Sabbath day. I thought of the old church at pretty
+D-, the dignified rector, and yet more dignified clerk. I though
+of England's grand Liturgy, and Tate and Brady's sonorous
+minstrelsy. I thought of the Holy Book, portions of which I was in
+the habit of reading between service. I thought, too, of the
+evening walk which I sometimes took in fine weather like the
+present, with my mother and brother--a quiet sober walk, during
+which I would not break into a run, even to chase a butterfly, or
+yet more a honey-bee, being fully convinced of the dread importance
+of the day which God had hallowed. And how glad I was when I had
+got over the Sabbath day without having done anything to profane
+it. And how soundly I slept on the Sabbath night after the toil of
+being very good throughout the day.
+
+And when I had mused on those times a long while, I sighed and said
+to myself, I am much altered since then; am I altered for the
+better? And then I looked at my hands and my apparel, and sighed
+again. I was not wont of yore to appear thus on the Sabbath day.
+
+For a long time I continued in a state of deep meditation, till at
+last I lifted up my eyes to the sun, which, as usual during that
+glorious summer, was shining in unclouded majesty; and then I
+lowered them to the sparkling water, in which hundreds of the finny
+brood were disporting themselves, and then I thought what a fine
+thing it was to be a fish on such a fine summer day, and I wished
+myself a fish, or at least amongst the fishes; and then I looked at
+my hands again, and then, bending over the water, I looked at my
+face in the crystal mirror, and started when I saw it, for it
+looked squalid and miserable.
+
+Forthwith I started up, and said to myself, I should like to bathe
+and cleanse myself from the squalor produced by my late hard life
+and by Mrs. Herne's drow. I wonder if there is any harm in bathing
+on the Sabbath day. I will ask Winifred when she comes home; in
+the meantime I will bathe, provided I can find a fitting place.
+
+But the brook, though a very delightful place for fish to disport
+in, was shallow, and by no means adapted for the recreation of so
+large a being as myself; it was, moreover, exposed, though I saw
+nobody at hand, nor heard a single human voice or sound. Following
+the winding of the brook, I left the meadow, and, passing through
+two or three thickets, came to a place where between lofty banks
+the water ran deep and dark, and there I bathed, imbibing new tone
+and vigour into my languid and exhausted frame.
+
+Having put on my clothes, I returned by the way I had come to my
+vehicle beneath the oak tree. From thence, for want of something
+better to do, I strolled up the hill, on the top of which stood the
+farm-house; it was a large and commodious building built
+principally of stone, and seeming of some antiquity, with a porch,
+on either side of which was an oaken bench. On the right was
+seated a young woman with a book in her hand, the same who had
+brought the tray to my friends and myself.
+
+'Good-day,' said I, 'pretty damsel, sitting in the farm porch.'
+
+'Good-day,' said the girl, looking at me for a moment, and then
+fixing her eyes on her book.
+
+'That's a nice book you are reading,' said I.
+
+The girl looked at me with surprise. 'How do you know what book it
+is?' said she.
+
+'How do I know--never mind; but a nice book it is--no love, no
+fortune-telling in it.'
+
+The girl looked at me half offended. 'Fortune-telling!' said she,
+'I should think not. But you know nothing about it'; and she bent
+her head once more over the book.
+
+'I tell you what, young person,' said I, 'I know all about that
+book; what will you wager that I do not?'
+
+'I never wager,' said the girl.
+
+'Shall I tell you the name of it,' said I, 'O daughter of the
+dairy? '
+
+The girl half started. 'I should never have thought,' said she,
+half timidly, 'that you could have guessed it.'
+
+'I did not guess it,' said I, 'I knew it; and meet and proper it is
+that you should read it.'
+
+'Why so?' said the girl.
+
+'Can the daughter of the dairy read a more fitting book than the
+Dairyman's Daughter?'
+
+'Where do you come from?' said the girl.
+
+'Out of the water,' said I. 'Don't start, I have been bathing; are
+you fond of the water?'
+
+'No,' said the girl, heaving a sigh; 'I am not fond of the water,
+that is, of the sea'; and here she sighed again.
+
+'The sea is a wide gulf,' said I, 'and frequently separates
+hearts.'
+
+The girl sobbed.
+
+'Why are you alone here?' said I.
+
+'I take my turn with the rest,' said the girl, 'to keep at home on
+Sunday.'
+
+'And you are--' said I.
+
+'The master's niece!' said the girl. 'How came you to know it?
+But why did you not go with the rest and with your friends?'
+
+'Who are those you call my friends?' said I.
+
+'Peter and his wife.'
+
+'And who are they?' said I.
+
+'Do you not know?' said the girl; 'you came with them.'
+
+'They found me ill by the way,' said I; 'and they relieved me: I
+know nothing about them.'
+
+'I thought you knew everything,' said the girl.
+
+'There are two or three things which I do not know, and this is one
+of them. Who are they?'
+
+'Did you never hear of the great Welsh preacher, Peter Williams?'
+
+'Never,' said I.
+
+'Well,' said the girl, 'this is he, and Winifred is his wife, and a
+nice person she is. Some people say, indeed, that she is as good a
+preacher as her husband, though of that matter I can say nothing,
+having never heard her preach. So these two wander over all Wales
+and the greater part of England, comforting the hearts of the
+people with their doctrine, and doing all the good they can. They
+frequently come here, for the mistress is a Welsh woman, and an old
+friend of both, and then they take up their abode in the cart
+beneath the old oaks down there by the stream.'
+
+'And what is their reason for doing so?' said I; 'would it not be
+more comfortable to sleep beneath a roof?'
+
+'I know not their reasons,' said the girl, 'but so it is; they
+never sleep beneath a roof unless the weather is very severe. I
+once heard the mistress say that Peter had something heavy upon his
+mind; perhaps that is the cause. If he is unhappy, all I can say
+is, that I wish him otherwise, for he is a good man and a kind--'
+
+'Thank you,' said I, 'I will now depart.'
+
+'Hem!' said the girl, 'I was wishing--'
+
+'What? to ask me a question?'
+
+'Not exactly; but you seem to know everything; you mentioned, I
+think, fortune-telling.'
+
+'Do you wish me to tell your fortune?'
+
+'By no means; but I have a friend at a distance at sea, and I
+should wish to know--'
+
+'When he will come back? I have told you already there are two or
+three things which I do not know--this is another of them.
+However, I should not be surprised if he were to come back some of
+these days; I would if I were in his place. In the meantime be
+patient, attend to the dairy, and read the Dairyman's Daughter when
+you have nothing better to do.'
+
+It was late in the evening when the party of the morning returned.
+The farmer and his family repaired at once to their abode, and my
+two friends joined me beneath the tree. Peter sat down at the foot
+of the oak, and said nothing. Supper was brought by a servant, not
+the damsel of the porch. We sat round the tray, Peter said grace,
+but scarcely anything else; he appeared sad and dejected, his wife
+looked anxiously upon him. I was as silent as my friends; after a
+little time we retired to our separate places of rest.
+
+About midnight I was awakened by a noise; I started up and
+listened; it appeared to me that I heard voices and groans. In a
+moment I had issued from my tent--all was silent--but the next
+moment I again heard groans and voices; they proceeded from the
+tilted cart where Peter and his wife lay; I drew near, again there
+was a pause, and then I heard the voice of Peter, in an accent of
+extreme anguish, exclaim, 'Pechod Ysprydd Glan--O pechod Ysprydd
+Glan!' and then he uttered a deep groan. Anon, I heard the voice
+of Winifred, and never shall I forget the sweetness and gentleness
+of the tones of her voice in the stillness of that night. I did
+not understand all she said--she spoke in her native language, and
+I was some way apart; she appeared to endeavour to console her
+husband, but he seemed to refuse all comfort, and, with many
+groans, repeated--'Pechod Ysprydd Glan--O pechod Ysprydd Glan!' I
+felt I had no right to pry into their afflictions, and retired.
+
+Now 'pechod Ysprydd Glan,' interpreted, is the sin against the Holy
+Ghost.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXIV
+
+
+
+The following day--Pride--Thriving trade--Tylwyth Teg--Ellis Wyn--
+Sleeping hard--Incalculable good--Fearful agony--The tale.
+
+Peter and his wife did not proceed on any expedition during the
+following day. The former strolled gloomily about the fields, and
+the latter passed many hours in the farmhouse. Towards evening,
+without saying a word to either, I departed with my vehicle, and
+finding my way to a small town at some distance, I laid in a store
+of various articles, with which I returned. It was night, and my
+two friends were seated beneath the oak; they had just completed
+their frugal supper. 'We waited for thee some time,' said
+Winifred, 'but, finding that thou didst not come, we began without
+thee; but sit down, I pray thee, there is still enough for thee.'
+'I will sit down,' said I, 'but I require no supper, for I have
+eaten where I have been': nothing more particular occurred at the
+time. Next morning the kind pair invited me to share their
+breakfast. 'I will not share your breakfast,' said I. 'Wherefore
+not?' said Winifred, anxiously. 'Because,' said I, 'it is not
+proper that I be beholden to you for meat and drink.' 'But we are
+beholden to other people,' said Winifred. 'Yes,' said I, 'but you
+preach to them, and give them ghostly advice, which considerably
+alters the matter; not that I would receive anything from them, if
+I preached to them six times a day.' 'Thou art not fond of
+receiving favours, then, young man,' said Winifred. 'I am not,'
+said I. 'And of conferring favours?' 'Nothing affords me greater
+pleasure,' said I, 'than to confer favours.' 'What a disposition,'
+said Winifred, holding up her hands; 'and this is pride, genuine
+pride--that feeling which the world agrees to call so noble. Oh,
+how mean a thing is pride! never before did I see all the meanness
+of what is called pride!'
+
+'But how wilt thou live, friend,' said Peter; 'dost thou not intend
+to eat?' 'When I went out last night,' said I, 'I laid in a
+provision.' 'Thou hast laid in a provision!' said Peter, 'pray let
+us see it. Really, friend,' said he, after I had produced it,
+'thou must drive a thriving trade; here are provisions enough to
+last three people for several days. Here are butter and eggs, here
+is tea, here is sugar, and there is a flitch. I hope thou wilt let
+us partake of some of thy fare.' 'I should be very happy if you
+would,' said I. 'Doubt not but we shall,' said Peter; 'Winifred
+shall have some of thy flitch cooked for dinner. In the meantime,
+sit down, young man, and breakfast at our expense--we will dine at
+thine.'
+
+On the evening of that day, Peter and myself sat alone beneath the
+oak. We fell into conversation; Peter was at first melancholy, but
+he soon became more cheerful, fluent, and entertaining. I spoke
+but little; but I observed that sometimes what I said surprised the
+good Methodist. We had been silent some time. At length, lifting
+up my eyes to the broad and leafy canopy of the trees, I said,
+having nothing better to remark, 'What a noble tree! I wonder if
+the fairies ever dance beneath it.'
+
+'Fairies!' said Peter, 'fairies! how came you, young man, to know
+anything about the fair family?'
+
+'I am an Englishman,' said I, 'and of course know something about
+fairies; England was once a famous place for them.'
+
+'Was once, I grant you,' said Peter, 'but is so no longer. I have
+travelled for years about England, and never heard them mentioned
+before; the belief in them has died away, and even their name seems
+to be forgotten. If you had said you were a Welshman, I should not
+have been surprised. The Welsh have much to say of the Tylwyth
+Teg, or fair family, and many believe in them.'
+
+'And do you believe in them?' said I.
+
+'I scarcely know what to say. Wise and good men have been of
+opinion that they are nothing but devils, who, under the form of
+pretty and amiable spirits, would fain allure poor human beings; I
+see nothing irrational in the supposition.'
+
+'Do you believe in devils, then?'
+
+'Do I believe in devils, young man?' said Peter, and his frame was
+shaken as if by convulsions. 'If I do not believe in devils, why
+am I here at the present moment?'
+
+'You know best,' said I; 'but I don't believe that fairies are
+devils, and I don't wish to hear them insulted. What learned men
+have said they are devils?'
+
+'Many have said it, young man, and, amongst others, Master Ellis
+Wyn, in that wonderful book of his, the Bardd Cwsg.'
+
+'The Bardd Cwsg,' said I; 'what kind of book is that? I have never
+heard of that book before.'
+
+'Heard of it before; I suppose not; how should you have heard of it
+before? By the bye, can you read?'
+
+'Very tolerably,' said I; 'so there are fairies in this book. What
+do you call it--the Bardd Cwsg?'
+
+'Yes, the Bardd Cwsg. You pronounce Welsh very fairly; have you
+ever been in Wales?'
+
+'Never,' said I.
+
+'Not been in Wales; then, of course, you don't understand Welsh;
+but we were talking of the Bardd Cwsg--yes, there are fairies in
+the Bardd Cwsg,--the author of it, Master Ellis Wyn, was carried
+away in his sleep by them over mountains and valleys, rivers and
+great waters, incurring mighty perils at their hands, till he was
+rescued from them by an angel of the Most High, who subsequently
+showed him many wonderful things.'
+
+'I beg your pardon,' said I, 'but what were those wonderful
+things?'
+
+'I see, young man,' said Peter, smiling, 'that you are not without
+curiosity; but I can easily pardon any one for being curious about
+the wonders contained in the book of Master Ellis Wyn. The angel
+showed him the course of this world, its pomps and vanities, its
+cruelty and its pride, its crimes and deceits. On another
+occasion, the angel showed him Death in his nether palace,
+surrounded by his grisly ministers, and by those who are
+continually falling victims to his power. And, on a third
+occasion, the state of the condemned in their place of everlasting
+torment.'
+
+'But this was all in his sleep,' said I, 'was it not?'
+
+'Yes,' said Peter, 'in his sleep; and on that account the book is
+called Gweledigaethau y Bardd Cwsg, or, Visions of the Sleeping
+Bard.'
+
+'I do not care for wonders which occur in sleep,' said I. 'I
+prefer real ones; and perhaps, notwithstanding what he says, the
+man had no visions at all--they are probably of his own invention.'
+
+'They are substantially true, young man,' said Peter; 'like the
+dreams of Bunyan, they are founded on three tremendous facts, Sin,
+Death, and Hell; and like his they have done incalculable good, at
+least in my own country, in the language of which they are written.
+Many a guilty conscience has the Bardd Cwsg aroused with its
+dreadful sights, its strong sighs, its puffs of smoke from the pit,
+and its showers of sparks from the mouth of the yet lower gulf of--
+Unknown--were it not for the Bardd Cwsg perhaps I might not be
+here.'
+
+'I would sooner hear your own tale,' said I, 'than all the visions
+of the Bardd Cwsg.'
+
+Peter shook, bent his form nearly double, and covered his face with
+his hands. I sat still and motionless, with my eyes fixed upon
+him. Presently Winifred descended the hill, and joined us. 'What
+is the matter?' said she, looking at her husband, who still
+remained in the posture I have described. He made no answer;
+whereupon, laying her hand gently on his shoulder, she said, in the
+peculiar soft and tender tone which I had heard her use on a former
+occasion, 'Take comfort, Peter; what has happened now to afflict
+thee?' Peter removed his hand from his face. 'The old pain, the
+old pain,' said he; 'I was talking with this young man, and he
+would fain know what brought me here, he would fain hear my tale,
+Winifred--my sin: O pechod Ysprydd Glan! O pechod Ysprydd Glan!'
+and the poor man fell into a more fearful agony than before. Tears
+trickled down Winifred's face, I saw them trickling by the
+moonlight, as she gazed upon the writhing form of her afflicted
+husband. I arose from my seat. 'I am the cause of all this,' said
+I, 'by my folly and imprudence, and it is thus I have returned your
+kindness and hospitality; I will depart from you and wander my
+way.' I was retiring, but Peter sprang up and detained me. 'Go
+not,' said he, 'you were not in fault; if there be any fault in the
+case it was mine; if I suffer, I am but paying the penalty of my
+own iniquity'; he then paused, and appeared to be considering: at
+length he said, 'Many things which thou hast seen and heard
+connected with me require explanation; thou wishest to know my
+tale, I will tell it thee, but not now, not to-night; I am too much
+shaken.'
+
+Two evenings later, when we were again seated beneath the oak,
+Peter took the hand of his wife in his own, and then, in tones
+broken and almost inarticulate, commenced telling me his tale--the
+tale of the Pechod Ysprydd Glan.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXV
+
+
+
+Taking a cup--Getting to heaven--After breakfast-- Wooden gallery--
+Mechanical habit--Reserved and gloomy--Last words--A long time--
+From the clouds--Ray of hope--Momentary chill--Pleasing
+anticipation.
+
+'I was born in the heart of North Wales, the son of a respectable
+farmer, and am the youngest of seven brothers.
+
+'My father was a member of the Church of England, and was what is
+generally called a serious man. He went to church regularly, and
+read the Bible every Sunday evening; in his moments of leisure he
+was fond of holding religious discourse both with his family and
+his neighbours.
+
+'One autumn afternoon, on a week day, my father sat with one of his
+neighbours taking a cup of ale by the oak table in our stone
+kitchen. I sat near them, and listened to their discourse. I was
+at that time seven years of age. They were talking of religious
+matters. "It is a hard matter to get to heaven," said my father.
+"Exceedingly so," said the other. "However, I don't despond; none
+need despair of getting to heaven, save those who have committed
+the sin against the Holy Ghost."
+
+'"Ah!" said my father, "thank God I never committed that--how awful
+must be the state of a person who has committed the sin against the
+Holy Ghost. I can scarcely think of it without my hair standing on
+end"; and then my father and his friend began talking of the nature
+of the sin against the Holy Ghost, and I heard them say what it
+was, as I sat with greedy ears listening to their discourse.
+
+'I lay awake the greater part of the night musing upon what I had
+heard. I kept wondering to myself what must be the state of a
+person who had committed the sin against the Holy Ghost, and how he
+must feel. Once or twice I felt a strong inclination to commit it,
+a strange kind of fear, however, prevented me; at last I determined
+not to commit it, and, having said my prayers, I fell asleep.
+
+'When I awoke in the morning the first thing I thought of was the
+mysterious sin, and a voice within me seemed to say, "Commit it";
+and I felt a strong temptation to do so, even stronger than in the
+night. I was just about to yield, when the same dread, of which I
+have already spoken, came over me, and, springing out of bed, I
+went down on my knees. I slept in a small room alone, to which I
+ascended by a wooden stair, open to the sky. I have often thought
+since that it is not a good thing for children to sleep alone.
+
+'After breakfast I went to school, and endeavoured to employ myself
+upon my tasks, but all in vain; I could think of nothing but the
+sin against the Holy Ghost; my eyes, instead of being fixed upon my
+book, wandered in vacancy. My master observed my inattention, and
+chid me. The time came for saying my task, and I had not acquired
+it. My master reproached me, and, yet more, he beat me; I felt
+shame and anger, and I went home with a full determination to
+commit the sin against the Holy Ghost.
+
+'But when I got home my father ordered me to do something connected
+with the farm, so that I was compelled to exert myself; I was
+occupied till night, and was so busy that I almost forgot the sin
+and my late resolution. My work completed, I took my supper, and
+went to my room; I began my prayers, and, when they were ended, I
+thought of the sin, but the temptation was slight, I felt very
+tired, and was presently asleep.
+
+'Thus, you see, I had plenty of time allotted me by a gracious and
+kind God to reflect on what I was about to do. He did not permit
+the enemy of souls to take me by surprise, and to hurry me at once
+into the commission of that which was to be my ruin here and
+hereafter. Whatever I did was of my own free will, after I had had
+time to reflect. Thus God is justified; He had no hand in my
+destruction, but, on the contrary, He did all that was compatible
+with justice to prevent it. I hasten to the fatal moment. Awaking
+in the night, I determined that nothing should prevent my
+committing the sin. Arising from my bed, I went out upon the
+wooden gallery; and having stood for a few moments looking at the
+stars, with which the heavens were thickly strewn, I laid myself
+down, and supporting my face with my hand, I murmured out words of
+horror, words not to be repeated, and in this manner I committed
+the sin against the Holy Ghost.
+
+'When the words were uttered I sat up upon the topmost step of the
+gallery; for some time I felt stunned in somewhat the same manner
+as I once subsequently felt after being stung by an adder. I soon
+arose, however, and retired to my bed, where, notwithstanding what
+I had done, I was not slow in falling asleep.
+
+'I awoke several times during the night, each time with the dim
+idea that something strange and monstrous had occurred, but I
+presently fell asleep again; in the morning I awoke with the same
+vague feeling, but presently recollection returned, and I
+remembered that I had committed the sin against the Holy Ghost. I
+lay musing for some time on what I had done, and I felt rather
+stunned, as before; at last I arose and got out of bed, dressed
+myself, and then went down on my knees, and was about to pray from
+the force of mechanical habit; before I said a word, however, I
+recollected myself, and got up again. What was the use of praying?
+I thought; I had committed the sin against the Holy Ghost.
+
+'I went to school, but sat stupefied. I was again chidden, again
+beaten, by my master. I felt no anger this time, and scarcely
+heeded the strokes. I looked, however, at my master's face, and
+thought to myself, you are beating me for being idle, as you
+suppose; poor man, what would you do if you knew I had committed
+the sin against the Holy Ghost?
+
+'Days and weeks passed by. I had once been cheerful, and fond of
+the society of children of my own age; but I was now reserved and
+gloomy. It seemed to me that a gulf separated me from all my
+fellow-creatures. I used to look at my brothers and schoolfellows,
+and think how different I was from them; they had not done what I
+had. I seemed, in my own eyes, a lone monstrous being, and yet,
+strange to say, I felt a kind of pride in being so. I was unhappy,
+but I frequently thought to myself, I have done what no one else
+would dare to do; there was something grand in the idea; I had yet
+to learn the horror of my condition.
+
+'Time passed on, and I began to think less of what I had done; I
+began once more to take pleasure in my childish sports; I was
+active, and excelled at football and the like all the lads of my
+age. I likewise began, what I had never done before, to take
+pleasure in the exercises of the school. I made great progress in
+Welsh and English grammar, and learnt to construe Latin. My master
+no longer chid or beat me, but one day told my father that he had
+no doubt that one day I should be an honour to Wales.
+
+'Shortly after this my father fell sick; the progress of the
+disorder was rapid; feeling his end approaching, he called his
+children before him. After tenderly embracing us, he said "God
+bless you, my children, I am going from you, but take comfort, I
+trust that we shall all meet again in heaven."
+
+'As he uttered these last words, horror took entire possession of
+me. Meet my father in heaven,--how could I ever hope to meet him
+there? I looked wildly at my brethren and at my mother; they were
+all bathed in tears, but how I envied them. They might hope to
+meet my father in heaven, but how different were they from me, they
+had never committed the unpardonable sin.
+
+'In a few days my father died; he left his family in comfortable
+circumstances, at least such as would be considered so in Wales,
+where the wants of the people are few. My elder brother carried on
+the farm for the benefit of my mother and us all. In course of
+time my brothers were put out to various trades. I still remained
+at school, but without being a source of expense to my relations,
+as I was by this time able to assist my master in the business of
+the school.
+
+'I was diligent both in self-improvement and in the instruction of
+others; nevertheless, a horrible weight pressed upon my breast; I
+knew I was a lost being; that for me there was no hope; that,
+though all others might be saved, I must of necessity be lost; I
+had committed the unpardonable sin, for which I was doomed to
+eternal punishment, in the flaming gulf, as soon as life was over!-
+-and how long could I hope to live? perhaps fifty years; at the end
+of which I must go to my place; and then I would count the months
+and the days, nay, even the hours, which yet intervened between me
+and my doom. Sometimes I would comfort myself with the idea that a
+long time would elapse before my time would be out; but then again
+I thought that, however long the term might be, it must be out at
+last; and then I would fall into an agony, during which I would
+almost wish that the term were out, and that I were in my place;
+the horrors of which I thought could scarcely be worse than what I
+then endured.
+
+'There was one thought about this time which caused me unutterable
+grief and shame, perhaps more shame than grief. It was that my
+father, who was gone to heaven, and was there daily holding
+communion with his God, was by this time aware of my crime. I
+imagined him looking down from the clouds upon his wretched son,
+with a countenance of inexpressible horror. When this idea was
+upon me, I would often rush to some secret place to hide myself; to
+some thicket, where I would cast myself on the ground, and thrust
+my head into a thick bush, in order to escape from the horror-
+struck glance of my father above in the clouds; and there I would
+continue groaning till the agony had, in some degree, passed away.
+
+'The wretchedness of my state increasing daily, it at last became
+apparent to the master of the school, who questioned me earnestly
+and affectionately. I, however, gave him no satisfactory answer,
+being apprehensive that, if I unbosomed myself, I should become as
+much an object of horror to him as I had long been to myself. At
+length he suspected that I was unsettled in my intellects; and,
+fearing probably the ill effect of my presence upon his scholars,
+he advised me to go home; which I was glad to do, as I felt myself
+every day becoming less qualified for the duties of the office
+which I had undertaken.
+
+'So I returned home to my mother and my brother, who received me
+with the greatest kindness and affection. I now determined to
+devote myself to husbandry, and assist my brother in the business
+of the farm. I was still, however, very much distressed. One fine
+morning, however, as I was at work in the field, and the birds were
+carolling around me, a ray of hope began to break upon my poor dark
+soul. I looked at the earth and looked at the sky, and felt as I
+had not done for many a year; presently a delicious feeling stole
+over me. I was beginning to enjoy existence. I shall never forget
+that hour. I flung myself on the soil, and kissed it; then,
+springing up with a sudden impulse, I rushed into the depths of a
+neighbouring wood, and, falling upon my knees, did what I had not
+done for a long, long time--prayed to God.
+
+'A change, an entire change, seemed to have come over me. I was no
+longer gloomy and despairing, but gay and happy. My slumbers were
+light and easy; not disturbed, as before, by frightful dreams. I
+arose with the lark, and like him uttered a cheerful song of praise
+to God, frequently and earnestly, and was particularly cautious not
+to do anything which I considered might cause His displeasure.
+
+'At church I was constant, and when there listened with deepest
+attention to every word which proceeded from the mouth of the
+minister. In a little time it appeared to me that I had become a
+good, very good, young man. At times the recollection of the sin
+would return, and I would feel a momentary chill; but the thought
+quickly vanished, and I again felt happy and secure.
+
+'One Sunday morning, after I had said my prayers, I felt
+particularly joyous. I thought of the innocent and virtuous life I
+was leading; and when the recollection of the sin intruded for a
+moment, said, "I am sure God will never utterly cast away so good a
+creature as myself." I went to church, and was as usual attentive.
+The subject of the sermon was on the duty of searching the
+Scriptures: all I knew of them was from the liturgy. I now,
+however, determined to read them, and perfect the good work which I
+had begun. My father's Bible was upon the shelf, and on that
+evening I took it with me to my chamber. I placed it on the table,
+and sat down. My heart was filled with pleasing anticipation. I
+opened the book at random, and began to read; the first passage on
+which my eyes lighted was the following:-
+
+'"He who committeth the sin against the Holy Ghost shall not be
+forgiven, either in this world or the next."'
+
+Here Peter was seized with convulsive tremors. Winifred sobbed
+violently. I got up, and went away. Returning in about a quarter
+of an hour, I found him more calm; he motioned me to sit down; and,
+after a short pause, continued his narration.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXVI
+
+
+
+Hasty farewell--Lofty rock--Wrestlings of Jacob--No rest--Ways of
+Providence--Two females--Foot of the Cross--Enemy of souls--
+Perplexed--Lucky hour--Valetudinarian--Methodists--Fervent in
+prayer--You Saxons--Weak creatures--Very agreeable--Almost happy--
+Kindness and solicitude.
+
+'Where was I, young man? Oh, I remember, at the fatal passage
+which removed all hope. I will not dwell on what I felt. I closed
+my eyes, and wished that I might be dreaming; but it was no dream,
+but a terrific reality: I will not dwell on that period, I should
+only shock you. I could not bear my feelings; so, bidding my
+friends a hasty farewell, I abandoned myself to horror and despair,
+and ran wild through Wales, climbing mountains and wading streams.
+
+'Climbing mountains and wading streams, I ran wild about, I was
+burnt by the sun, drenched by the rain, and had frequently at night
+no other covering than the sky, or the humid roof of some cave; but
+nothing seemed to affect my constitution; probably the fire which
+burned within me counteracted what I suffered from without. During
+the space of three years I scarcely knew what befell me; my life
+was a dream--a wild, horrible dream; more than once I believe I was
+in the hands of robbers, and once in the hands of gypsies. I liked
+the last description of people least of all; I could not abide
+their yellow faces, or their ceaseless clabber. Escaping from
+these beings, whose countenances and godless discourse brought to
+my mind the demons of the deep Unknown, I still ran wild through
+Wales, I know not how long. On one occasion, coming in some degree
+to my recollection, I felt myself quite unable to bear the horrors
+of my situation; looking round I found myself near the sea;
+instantly the idea came into my head that I would cast myself into
+it, and thus anticipate my final doom. I hesitated a moment, but a
+voice within me seemed to tell me that I could do no better; the
+sea was near, and I could not swim, so I determined to fling myself
+into the sea. As I was running along at great speed, in the
+direction of a lofty rock, which beetled over the waters, I
+suddenly felt myself seized by the coat. I strove to tear myself
+away, but in vain; looking round, I perceived a venerable hale old
+man, who had hold of me. "Let me go!" said I, fiercely. "I will
+not let thee go," said the old man, and now, instead of with one,
+he grappled me with both hands. "In whose name dost thou detain
+me?" said I, scarcely knowing what I said. "In the name of my
+Master, who made thee and yonder sea; and has said to the sea, So
+far shalt thou come, and no farther, and to thee, Thou shalt do no
+murder." "Has not a man a right to do what he pleases with his
+own?" said I. "He has," said the old man, "but thy life is not thy
+own; thou art accountable for it to thy God. Nay, I will not let
+thee go," he continued, as I again struggled; "if thou struggle
+with me the whole day I will not let thee go, as Charles Wesley
+says, in his 'Wrestlings of Jacob'; and see, it is of no use
+struggling, for I am, in the strength of my Master, stronger than
+thou"; and indeed, all of a sudden I had become very weak and
+exhausted; whereupon the old man, beholding my situation, took me
+by the arm and led me gently to a neighbouring town, which stood
+behind a hill, and which I had not before observed; presently he
+opened the door of a respectable-looking house, which stood beside
+a large building having the appearance of a chapel, and conducted
+me into a small room, with a great many books in it. Having caused
+me to sit down, he stood looking at me for some time, occasionally
+heaving a sigh. I was, indeed, haggard and forlorn. "Who art
+thou?" he said at last. "A miserable man," I replied. "What makes
+thee miserable?" said the old man. "A hideous crime," I replied.
+"I can find no rest; like Cain I wander here and there." The old
+man turned pale. "Hast thou taken another's life?" said he; "if
+so, I advise thee to surrender thyself to the magistrate; thou
+canst do no better; thy doing so will be the best proof of thy
+repentance; and though there be no hope for thee in this world
+there may be much in the next." "No," said I, "I have never taken
+another's life." "What then, another's goods? If so, restore them
+sevenfold, if possible: or, if it be not in thy power, and thy
+conscience accuse thee, surrender thyself to the magistrate, and
+make the only satisfaction thou art able." "I have taken no one's
+goods," said I. "Of what art thou guilty, then?" said he. "Art
+thou a drunkard? a profligate?" "Alas, no," said I; "I am neither
+of these; would that I were no worse."
+
+'Thereupon the old man looked steadfastly at me for some time;
+then, after appearing to reflect, he said, "Young man, I have a
+great desire to know your name." "What matters it to you what is
+my name?" said I; "you know nothing of me." "Perhaps you are
+mistaken," said the old man, looking kindly at me; "but at all
+events tell me your name." I hesitated a moment, and then told him
+who I was, whereupon he exclaimed with much emotion, "I thought so;
+how wonderful are the ways of Providence. I have heard of thee,
+young man, and know thy mother well. Only a month ago, when upon a
+journey, I experienced much kindness from her. She was speaking to
+me of her lost child, with tears; she told me that you were one of
+the best of sons, but that some strange idea appeared to have
+occupied your mind. Despair not, my son. If thou hast been
+afflicted, I doubt not but that thy affliction will eventually turn
+out to thy benefit; I doubt not but that thou wilt be preserved, as
+an example of the great mercy of God. I will now kneel down and
+pray for thee, my son."
+
+'He knelt down, and prayed long and fervently. I remained standing
+for some time; at length I knelt down likewise. I scarcely knew
+what he was saying, but when he concluded I said "Amen."
+
+'And when we had risen from our knees, the old man left me for a
+short time, and on his return led me into another room, where were
+two females; one was an elderly person, the wife of the old man,--
+the other was a young woman of very prepossessing appearance (hang
+not down thy head, Winifred), who I soon found was a distant
+relation of the old man,--both received me with great kindness, the
+old man having doubtless previously told them who I was.
+
+'I stayed several days in the good man's house. I had still the
+greater portion of a small sum which I happened to have about me
+when I departed on my dolorous wandering, and with this I purchased
+clothes, and altered my appearance considerably. On the evening of
+the second day my friend said, "I am going to preach, perhaps you
+will come and hear me." I consented, and we all went, not to a
+church, but to the large building next the house; for the old man,
+though a clergyman, was not of the established persuasion, and
+there the old man mounted a pulpit, and began to preach. "Come
+unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden," etc. etc., was
+his text. His sermon was long, but I still bear the greater
+portion of it in my mind.
+
+'The substance of it was that Jesus was at all times ready to take
+upon Himself the burden of our sins, provided we came to Him with a
+humble and contrite spirit, and begged His help. This doctrine was
+new to me; I had often been at church, but had never heard it
+preached before, at least so distinctly. When he said that all men
+might be saved, I shook, for I expected he would add, all except
+those who had committed the mysterious sin; but no, all men were to
+be saved who with a humble and contrite spirit would come to Jesus,
+cast themselves at the foot of His cross, and accept pardon through
+the merits of His blood-shedding alone. "Therefore, my friends,"
+said he, in conclusion, "despair not--however guilty you may be,
+despair not--however desperate your condition may seem," said he,
+fixing his eyes upon me, "despair not. There is nothing more
+foolish and more wicked than despair; over-weening confidence is
+not more foolish than despair; both are the favourite weapons of
+the enemy of souls."
+
+'This discourse gave rise in my mind to no slight perplexity. I
+had read in the Scriptures that he who committeth a certain sin
+shall never be forgiven, and that there is no hope for him either
+in this world or the next. And here was a man, a good man
+certainly, and one who, of necessity, was thoroughly acquainted
+with the Scriptures, who told me that any one might be forgiven,
+however wicked, who would only trust in Christ and in the merits of
+His blood-shedding. Did I believe in Christ? Ay, truly. Was I
+willing to be saved by Christ? Ay, truly. Did I trust in Christ?
+I trusted that Christ would save every one but myself. And why not
+myself? simply because the Scriptures had told me that he who has
+committed the sin against the Holy Ghost can never be saved, and I
+had committed the sin against the Holy Ghost,--perhaps the only one
+who ever had committed it. How could I hope? The Scriptures could
+not lie, and yet here was this good old man, profoundly versed in
+the Scriptures, who bade me hope; would he lie? No. But did the
+old man know my case? Ah, no, he did not know my case! but yet he
+had bid me hope, whatever I had done, provided I would go to Jesus.
+But how could I think of going to Jesus, when the Scriptures told
+me plainly that all would be useless? I was perplexed, and yet a
+ray of hope began to dawn in my soul. I thought of consulting the
+good man, but I was afraid he would drive away the small glimmer.
+I was afraid he would say, "Oh yes, every one is to be saved,
+except a wretch like you; I was not aware before that there was
+anything so horrible,--begone!" Once or twice the old man
+questioned me on the subject of my misery, but I evaded him; once,
+indeed, when he looked particularly benevolent, I think I should
+have unbosomed myself to him, but we were interrupted. He never
+pressed me much; perhaps he was delicate in probing my mind, as we
+were then of different persuasions. Hence he advised me to seek
+the advice of some powerful minister in my own church; there were
+many such in it, he said.
+
+'I stayed several days in the family, during which time I more than
+once heard my venerable friend preach; each time he preached, he
+exhorted his hearers not to despair. The whole family were kind to
+me; his wife frequently discoursed with me, and also the young
+person to whom I have already alluded. It appeared to me that the
+latter took a peculiar interest in my fate.
+
+'At last my friend said to me, "It is now time thou shouldest
+return to thy mother and thy brother." So I arose, and departed to
+my mother and my brother; and at my departure my old friend gave me
+his blessing, and his wife and the young person shed tears, the
+last especially. And when my mother saw me, she shed tears, and
+fell on my neck and kissed me, and my brother took me by the hand
+and bade me welcome; and when our first emotions were subsided, my
+mother said, "I trust thou art come in a lucky hour. A few weeks
+ago my cousin (whose favourite thou always wast) died and left thee
+his heir--left thee the goodly farm in which he lived. I trust, my
+son, that thou wilt now settle, and be a comfort to me in my old
+days." And I answered, "I will, if so please the Lord"; and I said
+to myself, "God grant that this bequest be a token of the Lord's
+favour."
+
+'And in a few days I departed to take possession of my farm; it was
+about twenty miles from my mother's house, in a beautiful but
+rather wild district; I arrived at the fall of the leaf. All day
+long I busied myself with my farm, and thus kept my mind employed.
+At night, however, I felt rather solitary, and I frequently wished
+for a companion. Each night and morning I prayed fervently unto
+the Lord; for His hand had been very heavy upon me, and I feared
+Him.
+
+'There was one thing connected with my new abode which gave me
+considerable uneasiness--the want of spiritual instruction. There
+was a church, indeed, close at hand, in which service was
+occasionally performed, but in so hurried and heartless a manner
+that I derived little benefit from it. The clergyman to whom the
+benefice belonged was a valetudinarian, who passed his time in
+London, or at some watering-place, entrusting the care of his flock
+to the curate of a distant parish, who gave himself very little
+trouble about the matter. Now I wanted every Sunday to hear from
+the pulpit words of consolation and encouragement, similar to those
+which I had heard uttered from the pulpit by my good and venerable
+friend, but I was debarred from this privilege. At length, one day
+being in conversation with one of my labourers, a staid and serious
+man, I spoke to him of the matter which lay heavy upon my mind;
+whereupon, looking me wistfully in the face, he said, "Master, the
+want of religious instruction in my church was what drove me to the
+Methodists." "The Methodists," said I, "are there any in these
+parts?" "There is a chapel," said he, "only half a mile distant,
+at which there are two services every Sunday, and other two during
+the week." Now it happened that my venerable friend was of the
+Methodist persuasion, and when I heard the poor man talk in this
+manner, I said to him, "May I go with you next Sunday?" "Why not?"
+said he; so I went with the labourer on the ensuing Sabbath to the
+meeting of the Methodists.
+
+'I liked the preaching which I heard at the chapel very well,
+though it was not quite so comfortable as that of my old friend,
+the preacher being in some respects a different kind of man. It,
+however, did me good, and I went again, and continued to do so,
+though I did not become a regular member of the body at that time.
+
+'I had now the benefit of religious instruction, and also to a
+certain extent of religious fellowship, for the preacher and
+various members of his flock frequently came to see me. They were
+honest plain men, not exactly of the description which I wished
+for, but still good sort of people, and I was glad to see them.
+Once on a time, when some of them were with me, one of them
+inquired whether I was fervent in prayer. "Very fervent," said I.
+"And do you read the Scriptures often?" said he. "No," said I.
+"Why not?" said he. "Because I am afraid to see there my own
+condemnation." They looked at each other, and said nothing at the
+time. On leaving me, however, they all advised me to read the
+Scriptures with fervency and prayer.
+
+'As I had told these honest people, I shrank from searching the
+Scriptures; the remembrance of the fatal passage was still too
+vivid in my mind to permit me. I did not wish to see my
+condemnation repeated, but I was very fervent in prayer, and almost
+hoped that God would yet forgive me by virtue of the blood-shedding
+of the Lamb. Time passed on, my affairs prospered, and I enjoyed a
+certain portion of tranquillity. Occasionally, when I had nothing
+else to do, I renewed my studies. Many is the book I read,
+especially in my native language, for I was always fond of my
+native language, and proud of being a Welshman. Amongst the books
+I read were the odes of the great Ab Gwilym, whom thou, friend,
+hast never heard of; no, nor any of thy countrymen, for you are an
+ignorant race, you Saxons, at least with respect to all that
+relates to Wales and Welshmen. I likewise read the book of Master
+Ellis Wyn. The latter work possessed a singular fascination for
+me, on account of its wonderful delineations of the torments of the
+nether world.
+
+'But man does not love to be alone; indeed, the Scripture says that
+it is not good for man to be alone. I occupied my body with the
+pursuits of husbandry, and I improved my mind with the perusal of
+good and wise books; but, as I have already said, I frequently
+sighed for a companion with whom I could exchange ideas, and who
+could take an interest in my pursuits; the want of such a one I
+more particularly felt in the long winter evenings. It was then
+that the image of the young person whom I had seen in the house of
+the preacher frequently rose up distinctly before my mind's eye,
+decked with quiet graces--hang not down your head, Winifred--and I
+thought that of all the women in the world I should wish her to be
+my partner, and then I considered whether it would be possible to
+obtain her. I am ready to acknowledge, friend, that it was both
+selfish and wicked in me to wish to fetter any human being to a
+lost creature like myself, conscious of having committed a crime
+for which the Scriptures told me there is no pardon. I had,
+indeed, a long struggle as to whether I should make the attempt or
+not--selfishness however prevailed. I will not detain your
+attention with relating all that occurred at this period--suffice
+it to say that I made my suit and was successful; it is true that
+the old man, who was her guardian, hesitated, and asked several
+questions respecting my state of mind. I am afraid that I partly
+deceived him, perhaps he partly deceived himself; he was pleased
+that I had adopted his profession--we are all weak creatures. With
+respect to the young person, she did not ask many questions; and I
+soon found that I had won her heart. To be brief, I married her;
+and here she is, the truest wife that ever man had, and the
+kindest. Kind I may well call her, seeing that she shrinks not
+from me, who so cruelly deceived her, in not telling her at first
+what I was. I married her, friend; and brought her home to my
+little possession, where we passed our time very agreeably. Our
+affairs prospered, our garners were full, and there was coin in our
+purse. I worked in the field; Winifred busied herself with the
+dairy. At night I frequently read books to her, books of my own
+country, friend; I likewise read to her songs of my own, holy songs
+and carols which she admired, and which yourself would perhaps
+admire, could you understand them; but I repeat, you Saxons are an
+ignorant people with respect to us, and a perverse, inasmuch as you
+despise Welsh without understanding it. Every night I prayed
+fervently, and my wife admired my gift of prayer.
+
+'One night, after I had been reading to my wife a portion of Ellis
+Wyn, my wife said, "This is a wonderful book, and containing much
+true and pleasant doctrine; but how is it that you, who are so fond
+of good books, and good things in general, never read the Bible?
+You read me the book of Master Ellis Wyn, you read me sweet songs
+of your own composition, you edify me with your gift of prayer, but
+yet you never read the Bible." And when I heard her mention the
+Bible I shook, for I thought of my own condemnation. However, I
+dearly loved my wife, and as she pressed me, I commenced on that
+very night reading the Bible. All went on smoothly for a long
+time; for months and months I did not find the fatal passage, so
+that I almost thought that I had imagined it. My affairs prospered
+much the while, so that I was almost happy,--taking pleasure in
+everything around me,--in my wife, in my farm, my books and
+compositions, and the Welsh language; till one night, as I was
+reading the Bible, feeling particularly comfortable, a thought
+having just come into my head that I would print some of my
+compositions, and purchase a particular field of a neighbour--O
+God--God! I came to the fatal passage.
+
+'Friend, friend, what shall I say? I rushed out. My wife followed
+me, asking me what was the matter. I could only answer with
+groans--for three days and three nights I did little else than
+groan. Oh the kindness and solicitude of my wife! "What is the
+matter husband, dear husband?" she was continually saying. I
+became at last more calm. My wife still persisted in asking me the
+cause of my late paroxysm. It is hard to keep a secret from a
+wife, especially such a wife as mine, so I told my wife the tale,
+as we sat one night--it was a mid-winter night--over the dying
+brands of our hearth, after the family had retired to rest, her
+hand locked in mine, even as it is now.
+
+'I thought she would have shrunk from me with horror; but she did
+not; her hand, it is true, trembled once or twice; but that was
+all. At last she gave mine a gentle pressure; and, looking up in
+my face, she said--what do you think my wife said, young man?'
+
+'It is impossible for me to guess,' said I.
+
+"Let us go to rest, my love; your fears are all groundless."'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXVII
+
+
+
+Getting late--Seven years old--Chastening--Go forth--London Bridge-
+-Same eyes--Common occurrence--Very sleepy.
+
+'And so I still say,' said Winifred, sobbing. 'Let us retire to
+rest, dear husband; your fears are groundless. I had hoped long
+since that your affliction would have passed away, and I still hope
+that it eventually will; so take heart, Peter, and let us retire to
+rest, for it is getting late.'
+
+'Rest!' said Peter; 'there is no rest for the wicked!'
+
+'We are all wicked,' said Winifred; 'but you are afraid of a
+shadow. How often have I told you that the sin of your heart is
+not the sin against the Holy Ghost: the sin of your heart is its
+natural pride, of which you are scarcely aware, to keep down which
+God in His mercy permitted you to be terrified with the idea of
+having committed a sin which you never committed.'
+
+'Then you will still maintain,' said Peter, 'that I never committed
+the sin against the Holy Spirit?'
+
+'I will,' said Winifred; 'you never committed it. How should a
+child seven years old commit a sin like that?'
+
+'Have I not read my own condemnation?' said Peter. 'Did not the
+first words which I read in the Holy Scripture condemn me? "He who
+committeth the sin against the Holy Ghost shall never enter into
+the kingdom of God."'
+
+'You never committed it,' said Winifred.
+
+'But the words! the words! the words!' said Peter.
+
+'The words are true words,' said Winifred, sobbing; 'but they were
+not meant for you, but for those who have broken their profession,
+who, having embraced the cross, have receded from their Master.'
+
+'And what sayst thou to the effect which the words produced upon
+me?' said Peter. 'Did they not cause me to run wild through Wales
+for years, like Merddin Wyllt of yore; thinkest thou that I opened
+the book at that particular passage by chance?'
+
+'No,' said Winifred, 'not by chance; it was the hand of God
+directed you, doubtless for some wise purpose. You had become
+satisfied with yourself. The Lord wished to rouse thee from thy
+state of carnal security, and therefore directed your eyes to that
+fearful passage.'
+
+'Does the Lord then carry out His designs by means of guile?' said
+Peter with a groan. 'Is not the Lord true? Would the Lord impress
+upon me that I had committed a sin of which I am guiltless? Hush,
+Winifred! hush! thou knowest that I have committed the sin.'
+
+'Thou hast not committed it,' said Winifred, sobbing yet more
+violently. 'Were they my last words, I would persist that thou
+hast not committed it, though, perhaps, thou wouldst, but for this
+chastening; it was not to convince thee that thou hast committed
+the sin, but rather to prevent thee from committing it, that the
+Lord brought that passage before thy eyes. He is not to blame, if
+thou art wilfully blind to the truth and wisdom of His ways.'
+
+'I see thou wouldst comfort me,' said Peter, 'as thou hast often
+before attempted to do. I would fain ask the young man his
+opinion.'
+
+'I have not yet heard the whole of your history,' said I.
+
+'My story is nearly told,' said Peter; 'a few words will complete
+it. My wife endeavoured to console and reassure me, using the
+arguments which you have just heard her use, and many others, but
+in vain. Peace nor comfort came to my breast. I was rapidly
+falling into the depths of despair; when one day Winifred said to
+me, "I see thou wilt be lost, if we remain here. One resource only
+remains. Thou must go forth, my husband, into the wide world, and
+to comfort thee I will go with thee." "And what can I do in the
+wide world?" said I, despondingly. "Much," replied Winifred, "if
+you will but exert yourself; much good canst thou do with the
+blessing of God." Many things of the same kind she said to me; and
+at last I arose from the earth to which God had smitten me, and
+disposed of my property in the best way I could, and went into the
+world. We did all the good we were able, visiting the sick,
+ministering to the sick, and praying with the sick. At last I
+became celebrated as the possessor of a great gift of prayer. And
+people urged me to preach, and Winifred urged me too, and at last I
+consented, and I preached. I--I--outcast Peter, became the
+preacher Peter Williams. I, the lost one, attempted to show others
+the right road. And in this way I have gone on for thirteen years,
+preaching and teaching, visiting the sick, and ministering to them,
+with Winifred by my side heartening me on. Occasionally I am
+visited with fits of indescribable agony, generally on the night
+before the Sabbath; for I then ask myself, how dare I, the outcast,
+attempt to preach the word of God? Young man, my tale is told; you
+seem in thought!'
+
+'I am thinking of London Bridge,' said I.
+
+'Of London Bridge!' said Peter and his wife.
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'of London Bridge. I am indebted for much wisdom to
+London Bridge; it was there that I completed my studies. But to
+the point. I was once reading on London Bridge a book which an
+ancient gentlewoman, who kept the bridge, was in the habit of
+lending me; and there I found written, "Each one carries in his
+breast the recollection of some sin which presses heavy upon him.
+Oh, if men could but look into each other's hearts, what blackness
+would they find there!"'
+
+'That's true,' said Peter. 'What is the name of the book?'
+
+'The Life of Blessed Mary Flanders.'
+
+'Some popish saint, I suppose,' said Peter.
+
+'As much of a saint, I daresay,' said I, 'as most popish ones; but
+you interrupted me. One part of your narrative brought the passage
+which I have quoted into my mind. You said that after you had
+committed this same sin of yours you were in the habit, at school,
+of looking upon your schoolfellows with a kind of gloomy
+superiority, considering yourself a lone monstrous being who had
+committed a sin far above the daring of any of them. Are you sure
+that many others of your schoolfellows were not looking upon you
+and the others with much the same eyes with which you were looking
+upon them?'
+
+'How!' said Peter, 'dost thou think that they had divined my
+secret?'
+
+'Not they,' said I, 'they were, I daresay, thinking too much of
+themselves and of their own concerns to have divined any secrets of
+yours. All I mean to say is, they had probably secrets of their
+own, and who knows that the secret sin of more than one of them was
+not the very sin which caused you so much misery?'
+
+'Dost thou then imagine,' said Peter, 'the sin against the Holy
+Ghost to be so common an occurrence?'
+
+'As you have described it,' said I, 'of very common occurrence,
+especially amongst children, who are, indeed, the only beings
+likely to commit it.'
+
+'Truly,' said Winifred, 'the young man talks wisely.'
+
+Peter was silent for some moments, and appeared to be reflecting;
+at last, suddenly raising his head, he looked me full in the face,
+and, grasping my hand with vehemence, he said, 'Tell me, young man,
+only one thing, hast thou, too, committed the sin against the Holy
+Ghost?'
+
+'I am neither Papist nor Methodist,' said I, 'but of the Church,
+and, being so, confess myself to no one, but keep my own counsel; I
+will tell thee, however, had I committed, at the same age, twenty
+such sins as that which you committed, I should feel no uneasiness
+at these years--but I am sleepy, and must go to rest.'
+
+'God bless thee, young man,' said Winifred.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXVIII
+
+
+
+Low and calm--Much better--Blessed effect--No answer--Such a
+sermon.
+
+Before I sank to rest I heard Winifred and her husband conversing
+in the place where I had left them; both their voices were low and
+calm. I soon fell asleep, and slumbered for some time. On my
+awakening I again heard them conversing, but they were now in their
+cart; still the voices of both were calm. I heard no passionate
+bursts of wild despair on the part of the man. Methought I
+occasionally heard the word Pechod proceeding from the lips of
+each, but with no particular emphasis. I supposed they were
+talking of the innate sin of both their hearts.
+
+'I wish that man were happy,' said I to myself, 'were it only for
+his wife's sake, and yet he deserves to be happy for his own.'
+
+The next day Peter was very cheerful, more cheerful than I had ever
+seen him. At breakfast his conversation was animated, and he
+smiled repeatedly. I looked at him with the greatest interest, and
+the eyes of his wife were almost constantly fixed upon him. A
+shade of gloom would occasionally come over his countenance, but it
+almost instantly disappeared; perhaps it proceeded more from habit
+than anything else. After breakfast he took his Welsh Bible and
+sat down beneath a tree. His eyes were soon fixed intently on the
+volume; now and then he would call his wife, show her some passage,
+and appeared to consult with her. The day passed quickly and
+comfortably.
+
+'Your husband seems much better,' said I, at evening fall, to
+Winifred, as we chanced to be alone.
+
+'He does,' said Winifred; 'and that on the day of the week when he
+was wont to appear most melancholy, for to-morrow is the Sabbath.
+He now no longer looks forward to the Sabbath with dread, but
+appears to reckon on it. What a happy change! and to think that
+this change should have been produced by a few words, seemingly
+careless ones, proceeding from the mouth of one who is almost a
+stranger to him. Truly, it is wonderful.'
+
+'To whom do you allude,' said I; 'and to what words?'
+
+'To yourself, and to the words which came from your lips last
+night, after you had heard my poor husband's history. Those
+strange words, drawn out with so much seeming indifference, have
+produced in my husband the blessed effect which you have observed.
+They have altered the current of his ideas. He no longer thinks
+himself the only being in the world doomed to destruction,--the
+only being capable of committing the never-to-be-forgiven sin.
+Your supposition that that which harrowed his soul is of frequent
+occurrence amongst children has tranquillised him; the mist which
+hung over his mind has cleared away, and he begins to see the
+groundlessness of his apprehensions. The Lord has permitted him to
+be chastened for a season, but his lamp will only burn the brighter
+for what he has undergone.'
+
+Sunday came, fine and glorious as the last. Again my friends and
+myself breakfasted together--again the good family of the house on
+the hill above, headed by the respectable master, descended to the
+meadow. Peter and his wife were ready to receive them. Again
+Peter placed himself at the side of the honest farmer, and Winifred
+by the side of her friend. 'Wilt thou not come?' said Peter,
+looking towards me with a face in which there was much emotion.
+'Wilt thou not come?' said Winifred, with a face beaming with
+kindness. But I made no answer, and presently the party moved
+away, in the same manner in which it had moved on the preceding
+Sabbath, and I was again left alone.
+
+The hours of the Sabbath passed slowly away. I sat gazing at the
+sky, the trees, and the water. At last I strolled up to the house
+and sat down in the porch. It was empty; there was no modest
+maiden there, as on the preceding Sabbath. The damsel of the book
+had accompanied the rest. I had seen her in the procession, and
+the house appeared quite deserted. The owners had probably left it
+to my custody, so I sat down in the porch, quite alone. The hours
+of the Sabbath passed heavily away.
+
+At last evening came, and with it the party of the morning. I was
+now at my place beneath the oak. I went forward to meet them.
+Peter and his wife received me with a calm and quiet greeting, and
+passed forward. The rest of the party had broken into groups.
+There was a kind of excitement amongst them, and much eager
+whispering. I went to one of the groups; the young girl of whom I
+have spoken more than once was speaking: 'Such a sermon,' said
+she, 'it has never been our lot to hear; Peter never before spoke
+as he has done this day--he was always a powerful preacher, but oh,
+the unction of the discourse of this morning, and yet more of that
+of the afternoon, which was the continuation of it!' 'What was the
+subject?' said I, interrupting her. 'Ah! you should have been
+there, young man, to have heard it; it would have made a lasting
+impression upon you. I was bathed in tears all the time; those who
+heard it will never forget the preaching of the good Peter Williams
+on the Power, Providence, and Goodness of God.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXIX
+
+
+
+Deep interest--Goodly country--Two mansions--Welshman's Candle--
+Beautiful universe--Godly discourse--Fine church--Points of
+doctrine--Strange adventures--Paltry cause--Roman pontiff--Evil
+spirit.
+
+On the morrow I said to my friends, 'I am about to depart;
+farewell!' 'Depart!' said Peter and his wife, simultaneously;
+'whither wouldst thou go?' 'I can't stay here all my days,' I
+replied. 'Of course not,' said Peter; 'but we had no idea of
+losing thee so soon: we had almost hoped that thou wouldst join
+us, become one of us. We are under infinite obligations to thee.'
+'You mean I am under infinite obligations to you,' said I. 'Did
+you not save my life?' 'Perhaps so, under God,' said Peter; 'and
+what hast thou not done for me? Art thou aware that, under God,
+thou hast preserved my soul from despair? But, independent of
+that, we like thy company, and feel a deep interest in thee, and
+would fain teach thee the way that is right. Hearken, to-morrow we
+go into Wales; go with us.' 'I have no wish to go into Wales,'
+said I. 'Why not?' said Peter, with animation. 'Wales is a goodly
+country; as the Scripture says--a land of brooks of water, of
+fountains and depths, that spring out of valleys and hills, a land
+whose stones are iron, and out of whose hills thou mayest dig
+lead.'
+
+'I daresay it is a very fine country,' said I, 'but I have no wish
+to go there just now; my destiny seems to point in another
+direction, to say nothing of my trade.' 'Thou dost right to say
+nothing of thy trade,' said Peter, smiling, 'for thou seemest to
+care nothing about it; which has led Winifred and myself to suspect
+that thou art not altogether what thou seemest; but, setting that
+aside, we should be most happy if thou wouldst go with us into
+Wales.' 'I cannot promise to go with you into Wales,' said I;
+'but, as you depart to-morrow, I will stay with you through the
+day, and on the morrow accompany you part of the way.' 'Do,' said
+Peter: 'I have many people to see to-day, and so has Winifred; but
+we will both endeavour to have some serious discourse with thee,
+which, perhaps, will turn to thy profit in the end.'
+
+In the course of the day the good Peter came to me, as I was seated
+beneath the oak, and, placing himself by me, commenced addressing
+me in the following manner:-
+
+'I have no doubt, my young friend, that you are willing to admit
+that the most important thing which a human being possesses is his
+soul; it is of infinitely more importance than the body, which is a
+frail substance, and cannot last for many years; but not so the
+soul, which, by its nature, is imperishable. To one of two
+mansions the soul is destined to depart, after its separation from
+the body, to heaven or hell; to the halls of eternal bliss, where
+God and His holy angels dwell, or to the place of endless misery,
+inhabited by Satan and his grisly companions. My friend, if the
+joys of heaven are great, unutterably great, so are the torments of
+hell unutterably so. I wish not to speak of them, I wish not to
+terrify your imagination with the torments of hell: indeed, I like
+not to think of them; but it is necessary to speak of them
+sometimes, and to think of them sometimes, lest you should sink
+into a state of carnal security. Authors, friend, and learned men,
+are not altogether agreed as to the particulars of hell. They all
+agree, however, in considering it a place of exceeding horror.
+Master Ellis Wyn, who by the bye was a churchman, calls it, amongst
+other things, a place of strong sighs, and of flaming sparks.
+Master Rees Pritchard, who was not only a churchman, but Vicar of
+Llandovery, and flourished about two hundred years ago--I wish many
+like him flourished now--speaking of hell, in his collection of
+sweet hymns called the "Welshman's Candle," observes,
+
+'"The pool is continually blazing; it is very deep, without any
+known bottom, and the walls are so high, that there is neither hope
+nor possibility of escaping over them."
+
+'But, as I told you just now, I have no great pleasure in talking
+of hell. No, friend, no; I would sooner talk of the other place,
+and of the goodness and hospitality of God amongst His saints
+above.'
+
+And then the excellent man began to dilate upon the joys of heaven,
+and the goodness and hospitality of God in the mansions above;
+explaining to me, in the clearest way, how I might get there.
+
+And when he had finished what he had to say, he left me, whereupon
+Winifred drew nigh, and sitting down by me began to address me. 'I
+do not think,' said she, 'from what I have observed of thee, that
+thou wouldst wish to be ungrateful, and yet, is not thy whole life
+a series of ingratitude, and to whom?--to thy Maker. Has He not
+endowed thee with a goodly and healthy form; and senses which
+enable thee to enjoy the delights of His beautiful universe--the
+work of His hands? Canst thou not enjoy, even to rapture, the
+brightness of the sun, the perfume of the meads, and the song of
+the dear birds which inhabit among the trees? Yes, thou canst; for
+I have seen thee, and observed thee doing so. Yet, during the
+whole time that I have known thee, I have not heard proceed from
+thy lips one single word of praise or thanksgiving to . . .'
+
+And in this manner the admirable woman proceeded for a considerable
+time, and to all her discourse I listened with attention; and when
+she had concluded, I took her hand and said, 'I thank you,' and
+that was all.
+
+On the next day everything was ready for our departure. The good
+family of the house came to bid us farewell. There were shaking of
+hands, and kisses, as on the night of our arrival.
+
+And as I stood somewhat apart, the young girl of whom I have spoken
+so often came up to me, and holding out her hand, said, 'Farewell,
+young man, wherever thou goest.' Then, after looking around her,
+she said, 'It was all true you told me. Yesterday I received a
+letter from him thou wottest of; he is coming soon. God bless you,
+young man; who would have thought thou knewest so much!'
+
+So, after we had taken our farewell of the good family, we
+departed, proceeding in the direction of Wales. Peter was very
+cheerful, and enlivened the way with godly discourse and spiritual
+hymns, some of which were in the Welsh language. At length I said,
+'It is a pity that you did not continue in the Church; you have a
+turn for Psalmody, and I have heard of a man becoming a bishop by
+means of a less qualification.'
+
+'Very probably,' said Peter; 'more the pity. But I have told you
+the reason of my forsaking it. Frequently, when I went to the
+church door, I found it barred, and the priest absent; what was I
+to do? My heart was bursting for want of some religious help and
+comfort; what could I do? as good Master Rees Pritchard observes in
+his "Candle for Welshmen":-
+
+'"It is a doleful thing to see little children burning on the hot
+coals for want of help; but yet more doleful to see a flock of
+souls falling into the burning lake for want of a priest."'
+
+'The Church of England is a fine church,' said I; 'I would not
+advise any one to speak ill of the Church of England before me.'
+
+'I have nothing to say against the church,' said Peter; 'all I wish
+is that it would fling itself a little more open, and that its
+priests would a little more bestir themselves; in a word, that it
+would shoulder the cross and become a missionary church.'
+
+'It is too proud for that,' said Winifred.
+
+'You are much more of a Methodist,' said I, 'than your husband.
+But tell me,' said I, addressing myself to Peter, 'do you not
+differ from the church in some points of doctrine? I, of course,
+as a true member of the church, am quite ignorant of the peculiar
+opinions of wandering sectaries.'
+
+'Oh the pride of that church!' said Winifred, half to herself;
+'wandering sectaries!'
+
+'We differ in no points of doctrine,' said Peter; 'we believe all
+the church believes, though we are not so fond of vain and
+superfluous ceremonies, snow-white neckcloths and surplices, as the
+church is. We likewise think that there is no harm in a sermon by
+the road-side, or in holding free discourse with a beggar beneath a
+hedge, or a tinker,' he added, smiling; 'it was those superfluous
+ceremonies, those surplices and white neckcloths, and, above all,
+the necessity of strictly regulating his words and conversation,
+which drove John Wesley out of the church, and sent him wandering
+up and down as you see me, poor Welsh Peter, do.'
+
+Nothing farther passed for some time; we were now drawing near the
+hills: at last I said, 'You must have met with a great many
+strange adventures since you took up this course of life?'
+
+'Many,' said Peter, 'it has been my lot to meet with; but none more
+strange than one which occurred to me only a few weeks ago. You
+were asking me, not long since, whether I believed in devils? Ay,
+truly, young man; and I believe that the abyss and the yet deeper
+unknown do not contain them all; some walk about upon the green
+earth. So it happened, some weeks ago, that I was exercising my
+ministry about forty miles from here. I was alone, Winifred being
+slightly indisposed, staying for a few days at the house of an
+acquaintance; I had finished afternoon's worship--the people had
+dispersed, and I was sitting solitary by my cart under some green
+trees in a quiet retired place; suddenly a voice said to me, "Good-
+evening, Pastor"; I looked up, and before me stood a man, at least
+the appearance of a man, dressed in a black suit of rather a
+singular fashion. He was about my own age, or somewhat older. As
+I looked upon him, it appeared to me that I had seen him twice
+before whilst preaching. I replied to his salutation, and
+perceiving that he looked somewhat fatigued, I took out a stool
+from the cart, and asked him to sit down. We began to discourse; I
+at first supposed that he might be one of ourselves, some wandering
+minister; but I was soon undeceived. Neither his language nor his
+ideas were those of any one of our body. He spoke on all kinds of
+matters with much fluency; till at last he mentioned my preaching,
+complimenting me on my powers. I replied, as well I might, that I
+could claim no merit of my own, and that if I spoke with any
+effect, it was only by the grace of God. As I uttered these last
+words, a horrible kind of sneer came over his countenance, which
+made me shudder, for there was something diabolical in it. I said
+little more, but listened attentively to his discourse. At last he
+said that I was engaged in a paltry cause, quite unworthy of one of
+my powers. "How can that be," said I, "even if I possessed all the
+powers in the world, seeing that I am engaged in the cause of our
+Lord Jesus?"
+
+'The same kind of sneer again came on his countenance, but he
+almost instantly observed, that if I chose to forsake this same
+miserable cause, from which nothing but contempt and privation was
+to be expected, he would enlist me into another, from which I might
+expect both profit and renown. An idea now came into my head, and
+I told him firmly that if he wished me to forsake my present
+profession and become a member of the Church of England, I must
+absolutely decline; that I had no ill-will against that church, but
+I thought I could do most good in my present position, which I
+would not forsake to be Archbishop of Canterbury. Thereupon he
+burst into a strange laughter, and went away, repeating to himself,
+"Church of England! Archbishop of Canterbury!" A few days after,
+when I was once more in a solitary place, he again appeared before
+me, and asked me whether I had thought over his words, and whether
+I was willing to enlist under the banners of his master, adding
+that he was eager to secure me, as he conceived that I might be
+highly useful to the cause. I then asked him who his master was;
+he hesitated for a moment, and then answered, "The Roman Pontiff."
+"If it be he," said I, "I can have nothing to do with him; I will
+serve no one who is an enemy of Christ." Thereupon he drew near to
+me, and told me not to talk so much like a simpleton; that as for
+Christ, it was probable that no such person ever existed, but that
+if He ever did, He was the greatest impostor the world ever saw.
+How long he continued in this way I know not, for I now considered
+that an evil spirit was before me, and shrank within myself,
+shivering in every limb; when I recovered myself and looked about
+me, he was gone. Two days after, he again stood before me, in the
+same place, and about the same hour, renewing his propositions, and
+speaking more horribly than before. I made him no answer;
+whereupon he continued; but suddenly hearing a noise behind him, he
+looked round and beheld Winifred, who had returned to me on the
+morning of that day. "Who are you?" said he, fiercely. "This
+man's wife," said she, calmly fixing her eyes upon him. "Begone
+from him, unhappy one, thou temptest him in vain." He made no
+answer, but stood as if transfixed: at length, recovering himself,
+he departed, muttering "Wife! wife! If the fool has a wife, he
+will never do for us."'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXX
+
+
+
+The border--Thank you both--Pipe and fiddle--Taliesin.
+
+We were now drawing very near the hills, and Peter said, 'If you
+are to go into Wales, you must presently decide, for we are close
+upon the border.'
+
+'Which is the border?' said I.
+
+'Yon small brook,' said Peter, 'into which the man on horseback who
+is coming towards us is now entering.'
+
+'I see it,' said I, 'and the man; he stops in the middle of it, as
+if to water his steed.'
+
+We proceeded till we had nearly reached the brook. 'Well,' said
+Peter, 'will you go into Wales?'
+
+'What should I do in Wales?' I demanded.
+
+'Do!' said Peter, smiling, 'learn Welsh.'
+
+I stopped my little pony. 'Then I need not go into Wales; I
+already know Welsh.'
+
+'Know Welsh!' said Peter, staring at me.
+
+'Know Welsh!' said Winifred, stopping her cart.
+
+'How and when did you learn it?' said Peter.
+
+'From books, in my boyhood.'
+
+'Read Welsh!' said Peter; 'is it possible?'
+
+'Read Welsh!' said Winifred; 'is it possible?'
+
+'Well, I hope you will come with us,' said Peter.
+
+'Come with us, young man,' said Winifred; 'let me, on the other
+side of the brook, welcome you into Wales.'
+
+'Thank you both,' said I, 'but I will not come.'
+
+'Wherefore?' exclaimed both, simultaneously.
+
+'Because it is neither fit nor proper that I cross into Wales at
+this time, and in this manner. When I go into Wales, I should wish
+to go in a new suit of superfine black, with hat and beaver,
+mounted on a powerful steed, black and glossy, like that which bore
+Greduv to the fight of Catraeth. I should wish, moreover, to see
+the Welshmen assembled on the border ready to welcome me with pipe
+and fiddle, and much whooping and shouting, and to attend me to
+Wrexham, or even as far as Machynllaith, where I should wish to be
+invited to a dinner at which all the bards should be present, and
+to be seated at the right hand of the president, who, when the
+cloth was removed, should arise, and, amidst cries of silence,
+exclaim--"Brethren and Welshmen, allow me to propose the health of
+my most respectable friend the translator of the odes of the great
+Ab Gwilym, the pride and glory of Wales."'
+
+'How!' said Peter, 'hast thou translated the works of the mighty
+Dafydd?'
+
+'With notes critical, historical, and explanatory.'
+
+'Come with us, friend,' said Peter. 'I cannot promise such a
+dinner as thou wishest, but neither pipe nor fiddle shall be
+wanting.'
+
+'Come with us, young man,' said Winifred, 'even as thou art, and
+the daughters of Wales shall bid thee welcome.'
+
+'I will not go with you,' said I. 'Dost thou see that man in the
+ford?'
+
+'Who is staring at us so, and whose horse has not yet done
+drinking? Of course I see him.'
+
+'I shall turn back with him. God bless you.'
+
+'Go back with him not,' said Peter; 'he is one of those whom I like
+not, one of the clibberty-clabber, as Master Ellis Wyn observes--
+turn not with that man.'
+
+'Go not back with him,' said Winifred. 'If thou goest with that
+man, thou wilt soon forget all our profitable counsels; come with
+us.'
+
+'I cannot; I have much to say to him. Kosko Divvus, Mr.
+Petulengro.'
+
+'Kosko Divvus, Pal,' said Mr. Petulengro, riding through the water;
+'are you turning back?'
+
+I turned back with Mr. Petulengro.
+
+Peter came running after me: 'One moment, young man,--who and what
+are you?'
+
+'I must answer in the words of Taliesin,' said I: 'none can say
+with positiveness whether I be fish or flesh, least of all myself.
+God bless you both!'
+
+'Take this,' said Peter, and he thrust his Welsh Bible into my
+hand.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXXI
+
+
+
+At a funeral--Two days ago--Very coolly--Roman woman--Well and
+hearty--Somewhat dreary--Plum pudding--Roman fashion--Quite
+different--The dark lane--Beyond the time--Fine fellow--Such a
+struggle--Like a wild cat--Fair Play--Pleasant enough spot--No
+gloves.
+
+So I turned back with Mr. Petulengro. We travelled for some time
+in silence; at last we fell into discourse. 'You have been in
+Wales, Mr. Petulengro?'
+
+'Ay, truly, brother.'
+
+'What have you been doing there?'
+
+'Assisting at a funeral.'
+
+'At whose funeral?'
+
+'Mrs. Herne's, brother.'
+
+'Is she dead, then?'
+
+'As a nail, brother.'
+
+'How did she die?'
+
+'By hanging, brother.'
+
+'I am lost in astonishment,' said I; whereupon Mr. Petulengro,
+lifting his sinister leg over the neck of his steed, and adjusting
+himself sideways in the saddle, replied, with great deliberation,
+'Two days ago I happened to be at a fair not very far from here; I
+was all alone by myself, for our party were upwards of forty miles
+off, when who should come up but a chap that I knew, a relation, or
+rather a connection, of mine--one of those Hernes. "Aren't you
+going to the funeral?" said he; and then, brother, there passed
+between him and me, in the way of questioning and answering, much
+the same as has just now passed between me and you; but when he
+mentioned hanging, I thought I could do no less than ask who hanged
+her, which you forgot to do. "Who hanged her?" said I; and then
+the man told me that she had done it herself; been her own hinjiri;
+and then I thought to myself what a sin and shame it would be if I
+did not go to the funeral, seeing that she was my own mother-in-
+law. I would have brought my wife, and, indeed, the whole of our
+party, but there was no time for that; they were too far off, and
+the dead was to be buried early the next morning; so I went with
+the man, and he led me into Wales, where his party had lately
+retired, and when there, through many wild and desolate places to
+their encampment, and there I found the Hernes, and the dead body--
+the last laid out on a mattress, in a tent, dressed Romaneskoenaes
+in a red cloak, and big bonnet of black beaver. I must say for the
+Hernes that they took the matter very coolly; some were eating,
+others drinking, and some were talking about their small affairs;
+there was one, however, who did not take the matter so coolly, but
+took on enough for the whole family, sitting beside the dead woman,
+tearing her hair, and refusing to take either meat or drink; it was
+the child Leonora. I arrived at night-fall, and the burying was
+not to take place till the morning, which I was rather sorry for,
+as I am not very fond of them Hernes, who are not very fond of
+anybody. They never asked me to eat or drink, notwithstanding I
+had married into the family; one of them, however, came up and
+offered to fight me for five shillings; had it not been for them I
+should have come back as empty as I went--he didn't stand up five
+minutes. Brother, I passed the night as well as I could, beneath a
+tree, for the tents were full, and not over clean; I slept little,
+and had my eyes about me, for I knew the kind of people I was
+among.
+
+'Early in the morning the funeral took place. The body was placed
+not in a coffin but on a bier, and carried not to a churchyard but
+to a deep dell close by; and there it was buried beneath a rock,
+dressed just as I have told you; and this was done by the bidding
+of Leonora, who had heard her bebee say that she wished to be
+buried, not in gorgious fashion, but like a Roman woman of the old
+blood, the kosko puro rati, brother. When it was over, and we had
+got back to the encampment, I prepared to be going. Before
+mounting my gry, however, I bethought me to ask what could have
+induced the dead woman to make away with herself--a thing so
+uncommon amongst Romanies; whereupon one squinted with his eyes, a
+second spirted saliver into the air, and a third said that he
+neither knew nor cared; she was a good riddance, having more than
+once been nearly the ruin of them all, from the quantity of
+brimstone she carried about her. One, however, I suppose rather
+ashamed of the way in which they had treated me, said at last that
+if I wanted to know all about the matter none could tell me better
+than the child, who was in all her secrets, and was not a little
+like her; so I looked about for the child, but could find her
+nowhere. At last the same man told me that he shouldn't wonder if
+I found her at the grave; so I went back to the grave, and sure
+enough there I found the child Leonora, seated on the ground above
+the body, crying and taking on; so I spoke kindly to her, and said,
+"How came all this, Leonora? tell me all about it." It was a long
+time before I could get any answer; at last she opened her mouth
+and spoke, and these were the words she said, "It was all along of
+your Pal"; and then she told me all about the matter--how Mrs.
+Herne could not abide you, which I knew before; and that she had
+sworn your destruction, which I did not know before. And then she
+told me how she found you living in the wood by yourself, and how
+you were enticed to eat a poisoned cake; and she told me many other
+things that you wot of, and she told me what perhaps you don't wot,
+namely, that finding you had been removed, she, the child, had
+tracked you a long way, and found you at last well and hearty, and
+no ways affected by the poison, and heard you, as she stood
+concealed, disputing about religion with a Welsh Methody. Well,
+brother, she told me all this; and, moreover, that when Mrs. Herne
+heard of it, she said that a dream of hers had come to pass. I
+don't know what it was, but something about herself, a tinker, and
+a dean; and then she added that it was all up with her, and that
+she must take a long journey. Well, brother, that same night
+Leonora, waking from her sleep in the tent where Mrs. Herne and she
+were wont to sleep, missed her bebee, and, becoming alarmed, went
+in search of her, and at last found her hanging from a branch; and
+when the child had got so far, she took on violently, and I could
+not get another word from her; so I left her, and here I am.'
+
+'And I am glad to see you, Mr. Petulengro; but this is sad news
+which you tell me about Mrs. Herne.'
+
+'Somewhat dreary, brother; yet, perhaps, after all, it is a good
+thing that she is removed; she carried so much Devil's tinder about
+with her, as the man said.'
+
+'I am sorry for her,' said I; 'more especially as I am the cause of
+her death--though the innocent one.'
+
+'She could not bide you, brother, that's certain; but that is no
+reason'--said Mr. Petulengro, balancing himself upon the saddle--
+'that is no reason why she should prepare drow to take away your
+essence of life; and, when disappointed, to hang herself upon a
+tree: if she was dissatisfied with you, she might have flown at
+you, and scratched your face; or, if she did not judge herself your
+match, she might have put down five shillings for a turn-up between
+you and some one she thought could beat you--myself, for example--
+and so the matter might have ended comfortably; but she was always
+too fond of covert ways, drows, and brimstones. This is not the
+first poisoning affair she has been engaged in.'
+
+'You allude to drabbing bawlor.'
+
+'Bah!' said Mr. Petulengro; 'there's no harm in that. No, no! she
+has cast drows in her time for other guess things than bawlor; both
+Gorgios and Romans have tasted of them, and died. Did you never
+hear of the poisoned plum pudding?'
+
+'Never.'
+
+'Then I will tell you about it. It happened about six years ago, a
+few months after she had quitted us--she had gone first amongst her
+own people, as she called them; but there was another small party
+of Romans, with whom she soon became very intimate. It so happened
+that this small party got into trouble; whether it was about a
+horse or an ass, or passing bad money, no matter to you and me, who
+had no hand in the business; three or four of them were taken and
+lodged in--Castle, and amongst them was a woman; but the sherengro,
+or principal man of the party, and who it seems had most hand in
+the affair, was still at large. All of a sudden a rumour was
+spread abroad that the woman was about to play false, and to 'peach
+the rest. Said the principal man, when he heard it, "If she does,
+I am nashkado." Mrs. Herne was then on a visit to the party, and
+when she heard the principal man take on so, she said, "But I
+suppose you know what to do?" "I do not," said he. "Then hir mi
+devlis," said she, "you are a fool. But leave the matter to me, I
+know how to dispose of her in Roman fashion." Why she wanted to
+interfere in the matter, brother, I don't know, unless it was from
+pure brimstoneness of disposition--she had no hand in the matter
+which had brought the party into trouble--she was only on a visit,
+and it had happened before she came; but she was always ready to
+give dangerous advice. Well, brother, the principal man listened
+to what she had to say, and let her do what she would; and she made
+a pudding, a very nice one, no doubt--for, besides plums, she put
+in drows and all the Roman condiments that she knew of; and she
+gave it to the principal man, and the principal put it into a
+basket and directed it to the woman in--Castle, and the woman in
+the castle took it and--'
+
+'Ate of it,' said I; 'just like my case!'
+
+'Quite different, brother; she took it, it is true, but instead of
+giving way to her appetite, as you might have done, she put it
+before the rest whom she was going to impeach; perhaps she wished
+to see how they liked it before she tasted it herself; and all the
+rest were poisoned, and one died, and there was a precious outcry,
+and the woman cried loudest of all; and she said, "It was my death
+was sought for; I know the man, and I'll be revenged." And then
+the Poknees spoke to her and said, "Where can we find him?" and she
+said, "I am awake to his motions; three weeks from hence, the night
+before the full moon, at such and such an hour, he will pass down
+such a lane with such a man."'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'and what did the Poknees do?'
+
+'Do, brother! sent for a plastramengro from Bow Street, quite
+secretly, and told him what the woman had said; and the night
+before the full moon, the plastramengro went to the place which the
+juwa had pointed out, all alone, brother; and in order that he
+might not be too late, he went two hours before his time. I know
+the place well, brother, where the plastramengro placed himself
+behind a thick holly tree, at the end of a lane, where a gate leads
+into various fields, through which there is a path for carts and
+horses. The lane is called the dark lane by the Gorgios, being
+much shaded by trees. So the plastramengro placed himself in the
+dark lane behind the holly tree; it was a cold February night,
+dreary though; the wind blew in gusts, and the moon had not yet
+risen, and the plastramengro waited behind the tree till he was
+tired, and thought he might as well sit down; so he sat down, and
+was not long in falling to sleep, and there he slept for some
+hours; and when he awoke the moon had risen, and was shining
+bright, so that there was a kind of moonlight even in the dark
+lane; and the plastramengro pulled out his watch, and contrived to
+make out that it was just two hours beyond the time when the men
+should have passed by. Brother, I do not know what the
+plastramengro thought of himself, but I know, brother, what I
+should have thought of myself in his situation. I should have
+thought, brother, that I was a drowsy scoppelo, and that I had let
+the fellow pass by whilst I was sleeping behind a bush. As it
+turned out, however, his going to sleep did no harm, but quite the
+contrary: just as he was going away, he heard a gate slam in the
+direction of the fields, and then he heard the low stumping of
+horses, as if on soft ground, for the path in those fields is
+generally soft, and at that time it had been lately ploughed up.
+Well, brother, presently he saw two men on horseback coming towards
+the lane through the field behind the gate; the man who rode
+foremost was a tall big fellow, the very man he was in quest of;
+the other was a smaller chap, not so small either, but a light,
+wiry fellow, and a proper master of his hands when he sees occasion
+for using them. Well, brother, the foremost man came to the gate,
+reached at the hank, undid it, and rode through, holding it open
+for the other. Before, however, the other could follow into the
+lane, out bolted the plastramengro from behind the tree, kicked the
+gate to with his foot, and, seizing the big man on horse-back, "You
+are my prisoner," said he. I am of opinion, brother, that the
+plastramengro, notwithstanding he went to sleep, must have been a
+regular fine fellow.'
+
+'I am entirely of your opinion,' said I; 'but what happened then?'
+
+'Why, brother, the Rommany chal, after he had somewhat recovered
+from his surprise, for it is rather uncomfortable to be laid hold
+of at night-time, and told you are a prisoner; more especially when
+you happen to have two or three things on your mind which, if
+proved against you, would carry you to the nashky,--the Rommany
+chal, I say, clubbed his whip, and aimed a blow at the
+plastramengro, which, if it had hit him on the skull, as was
+intended, would very likely have cracked it. The plastramengro,
+however, received it partly on his staff, so that it did him no
+particular damage. Whereupon, seeing what kind of customer he had
+to deal with, he dropped his staff and seized the chal with both
+his hands, who forthwith spurred his horse, hoping, by doing so,
+either to break away from him or fling him down; but it would not
+do--the plastramengro held on like a bull-dog, so that the Rommany
+chal, to escape being hauled to the ground, suddenly flung himself
+off the saddle, and then happened in that lane, close by the gate,
+such a struggle between those two--the chal and the runner--as I
+suppose will never happen again. But you must have heard of it;
+every one has heard of it; every one has heard of the fight between
+the Bow Street engro and the Rommany chal.'
+
+'I never heard of it till now.'
+
+'All England rung of it, brother. There never was a better match
+than between those two. The runner was somewhat the stronger of
+the two--all those engroes are strong fellows--and a great deal
+cooler, for all of that sort are wondrous cool people--he had,
+however, to do with one who knew full well how to take his own
+part. The chal fought the engro, brother, in the old Roman
+fashion. He bit, he kicked, and screamed like a wild cat of
+Benygant; casting foam from his mouth and fire from his eyes.
+Sometimes he was beneath the engro's legs, and sometimes he was
+upon his shoulders. What the engro found the most difficult was to
+get a firm hold of the chal, for no sooner did he seize the chal by
+any part of his wearing apparel, than the chal either tore himself
+away, or contrived to slip out of it; so that in a little time the
+chal was three parts naked; and as for holding him by the body, it
+was out of the question, for he was as slippery as an eel. At last
+the engro seized the chal by the Belcher's handkerchief, which he
+wore in a knot round his neck, and do whatever the chal could, he
+could not free himself; and when the engro saw that, it gave him
+fresh heart, no doubt: "It's of no use," said he; "you had better
+give in; hold out your hands for the darbies, or I will throttle
+you."
+
+'And what did the other fellow do, who came with the chal?' said I.
+
+'I sat still on my horse, brother.'
+
+'You!' said I. 'Were you the man?'
+
+'I was he, brother.'
+
+'And why did you not help your comrade?'
+
+'I have fought in the ring, brother.'
+
+'And what had fighting in the ring to do with fighting in the
+lane?'
+
+'You mean not fighting. A great deal, brother; it taught me to
+prize fair play. When I fought Staffordshire Dick, t'other side of
+London, I was alone, brother. Not a Rommany chal to back me, and
+he had all his brother pals about him; but they gave me fair play,
+brother; and I beat Staffordshire Dick, which I couldn't have done
+had they put one finger on his side the scale; for he was as good a
+man as myself, or nearly so. Now, brother, had I but bent a finger
+in favour of the Rommany chal, the plastramengro would never have
+come alive out of the lane; but I did not, for I thought to myself
+fair play is a precious stone; so you see, brother--'
+
+'That you are quite right, Mr. Petulengro, I see that clearly; and
+now, pray proceed with your narration; it is both moral and
+entertaining.'
+
+But Mr. Petulengro did not proceed with his narration, neither did
+he proceed upon his way; he had stopped his horse, and his eyes
+were intently fixed on a broad strip of grass beneath some lofty
+trees, on the left side of the road. It was a pleasant enough
+spot, and seemed to invite wayfaring people, such as we were, to
+rest from the fatigues of the road, and the heat and vehemence of
+the sun. After examining it for a considerable time, Mr.
+Petulengro said, 'I say, brother, that would be a nice place for a
+tussle!'
+
+'I daresay it would,' said I, 'if two people were inclined to
+fight.'
+
+'The ground is smooth,' said Mr. Petulengro; 'without holes or
+ruts, and the trees cast much shade. I don't think, brother, that
+we could find a better place,' said Mr. Petulengro, springing from
+his horse.
+
+'But you and I don't want to fight!'
+
+'Speak for yourself, brother,' said Mr. Petulengro. 'However, I
+will tell you how the matter stands. There is a point at present
+between us. There can be no doubt that you are the cause of Mrs.
+Herne's death, innocently, you will say, but still the cause. Now,
+I shouldn't like it to be known that I went up and down the country
+with a pal who was the cause of my mother-in-law's death, that's to
+say, unless he gave me satisfaction. Now, if I and my pal have a
+tussle, he gives me satisfaction; and, if he knocks my eyes out,
+which I know you can't do, it makes no difference at all, he gives
+me satisfaction; and he who says to the contrary knows nothing of
+gypsy law, and is a dinelo into the bargain.'
+
+'But we have no gloves!'
+
+'Gloves!' said Mr. Petulengro, contemptuously, 'gloves! I tell you
+what, brother, I always thought you were a better hand at the
+gloves than the naked fist; and, to tell you the truth, besides
+taking satisfaction for Mrs. Herne's death, I wish to see what you
+can do with your mawleys; so now is your time, brother, and this is
+your place, grass and shade, no ruts or holes; come on, brother, or
+I shall think you what I should not like to call you.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXXII
+
+
+
+Offence and defence--I'm satisfied--Fond of solitude--Possession of
+property--Chal Devlehi--Winding path.
+
+And when I heard Mr. Petulengro talk in this manner, which I had
+never heard him do before, and which I can only account for by his
+being fasting and ill-tempered, I had of course no other
+alternative than to accept his challenge; so I put myself into a
+posture which I deemed the best both for offence and defence, and
+the tussle commenced; and when it had endured for about half an
+hour, Mr. Petulengro said, 'Brother, there is much blood on your
+face; you had better wipe it off'; and when I had wiped it off, and
+again resumed my former attitude, Mr. Petulengro said, 'I think
+enough has been done, brother, in the affair of the old woman; I
+have, moreover, tried what you are able to do, and find you, as I
+thought, less apt with the naked mawleys than the stuffed gloves;
+nay, brother, put your hands down, I'm satisfied; blood has been
+shed, which is all that can be reasonably expected for an old woman
+who carried so much brimstone about her as Mrs. Herne.'
+
+So the struggle ended, and we resumed our route, Mr. Petulengro
+sitting sideways upon his horse as before, and I driving my little
+pony-cart; and when we had proceeded about three miles, we came to
+a small public-house, which bore the sign of the Silent Woman,
+where we stopped to refresh our cattle and ourselves; and as we sat
+over our bread and ale, it came to pass that Mr. Petulengro asked
+me various questions, and amongst others, how I intended to dispose
+of myself; I told him that I did not know; whereupon, with
+considerable frankness, he invited me to his camp, and told me that
+if I chose to settle down amongst them, and become a Rommany chal,
+I should have his wife's sister Ursula, who was still unmarried,
+and occasionally talked of me.
+
+I declined his offer, assigning as a reason the recent death of
+Mrs. Herne, of which I was the cause, although innocent. 'A pretty
+life I should lead with those two,' said I, 'when they came to know
+it.' 'Pooh,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'they will never know it. I
+shan't blab, and as for Leonora, that girl has a head on her
+shoulders.' 'Unlike the woman in the sign,' said I, 'whose head is
+cut off. You speak nonsense, Mr. Petulengro; as long as a woman
+has a head on her shoulders she'll talk,--but, leaving women out of
+the case, it is impossible to keep anything a secret; an old master
+of mine told me so long ago. I have moreover another reason for
+declining your offer. I am at present not disposed for society. I
+am become fond of solitude. I wish I could find some quiet place
+to which I could retire to hold communion with my own thoughts, and
+practise, if I thought fit, either of my trades.' 'What trades?'
+said Mr. Petulengro. 'Why, the one which I have lately been
+engaged in, or my original one, which I confess I should like
+better, that of a kaulo-mescro.' 'Ah, I have frequently heard you
+talk of making horse-shoes,' said Mr. Petulengro; 'I, however,
+never saw you make one, and no one else that I am aware; I don't
+believe--come, brother, don't be angry, it's quite possible that
+you may have done things which neither I nor any one else has seen
+you do, and that such things may some day or other come to light,
+as you say nothing can be kept secret. Be that, however, as it
+may, pay the reckoning and let us be going; I think I can advise
+you to just such a kind of place as you seem to want.'
+
+'And how do you know that I have got wherewithal to pay the
+reckoning?' I demanded. 'Brother,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'I was
+just now looking in your face, which exhibited the very look of a
+person conscious of the possession of property; there was nothing
+hungry or sneaking in it. Pay the reckoning, brother.'
+
+And when we were once more upon the road, Mr. Petulengro began to
+talk of the place which he conceived would serve me as a retreat
+under present circumstances. 'I tell you frankly, brother, that it
+is a queer kind of place, and I am not very fond of pitching my
+tent in it, it is so surprisingly dreary. It is a deep dingle in
+the midst of a large field, on an estate about which there has been
+a lawsuit for some years past. I daresay you will be quiet enough,
+for the nearest town is five miles distant, and there are only a
+few huts and hedge public-houses in the neighbourhood. Brother, I
+am fond of solitude myself, but not that kind of solitude; I like a
+quiet heath, where I can pitch my house, but I always like to have
+a gay stirring place not far off, where the women can pen dukkerin,
+and I myself can sell or buy a horse, if needful--such a place as
+the Chong Gav. I never feel so merry as when there, brother, or on
+the heath above it, where I taught you Rommany.'
+
+Shortly after this discourse we reached a milestone, and a few
+yards from the milestone, on the left hand, was a crossroad.
+Thereupon Mr. Petulengro said, 'Brother, my path lies to the left
+if you choose to go with me to my camp, good; if not, Chal
+Devlehi.' But I again refused Mr. Petulengro's invitation, and,
+shaking him by the hand, proceeded forward alone; and about ten
+miles farther on I reached the town of which he had spoken, and,
+following certain directions which he had given, discovered, though
+not without some difficulty, the dingle which he had mentioned. It
+was a deep hollow in the midst of a wide field; the shelving sides
+were overgrown with trees and bushes, a belt of sallows surrounded
+it on the top, a steep winding path led down into the depths,
+practicable, however, for a light cart, like mine; at the bottom
+was an open space, and there I pitched my tent, and there I
+contrived to put up my forge. 'I will here ply the trade of
+kaulomescro,' said I.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXXIII
+
+
+
+Highly poetical--Volundr--Grecian mythology--Making a petul--
+Tongues of flame--Hammering--Spite of dukkerin--Heaviness.
+
+It has always struck me that there is something highly poetical
+about a forge. I am not singular in this opinion: various
+individuals have assured me that they can never pass by one, even
+in the midst of a crowded town, without experiencing sensations
+which they can scarcely define, but which are highly pleasurable.
+I have a decided penchant for forges, especially rural ones, placed
+in some quaint quiet spot--a dingle, for example, which is a
+poetical place, or at a meeting of four roads, which is still more
+so; for how many a superstition--and superstition is the soul of
+poetry--is connected with these cross roads! I love to light upon
+such a one, especially after nightfall, as everything about a forge
+tells to most advantage at night; the hammer sounds more solemnly
+in the stillness; the glowing particles scattered by the strokes
+sparkle with more effect in the darkness, whilst the sooty visage
+of the sastramescro, half in shadow and half illumed by the red and
+partial blaze of the forge, looks more mysterious and strange. On
+such occasions I draw in my horse's rein, and, seated in the
+saddle, endeavour to associate with the picture before me--in
+itself a picture of romance--whatever of the wild and wonderful I
+have read of in books, or have seen with my own eyes in connection
+with forges.
+
+I believe the life of any blacksmith, especially a rural one, would
+afford materials for a highly poetical history. I do not speak
+unadvisedly, having the honour to be free of the forge, and
+therefore fully competent to give an opinion as to what might be
+made out of the forge by some dexterous hand. Certainly, the
+strangest and most entertaining life ever written is that of a
+blacksmith of the olden north, a certain Volundr, or Velint, who
+lived in woods and thickets, made keen swords--so keen, indeed,
+that if placed in a running stream they would fairly divide an
+object, however slight, which was borne against them by the water,
+and who eventually married a king's daughter, by whom he had a son,
+who was as bold a knight as his father was a cunning blacksmith. I
+never see a forge at night, when seated on the back of my horse, at
+the bottom of a dark lane, but I somehow or other associate it with
+the exploits of this extraordinary fellow, with many other
+extraordinary things, amongst which, as I have hinted before, are
+particular passages of my own life, one or two of which I shall
+perhaps relate to the reader.
+
+I never associate Vulcan and his Cyclops with the idea of a forge.
+These gentry would be the very last people in the world to flit
+across my mind whilst gazing at the forge from the bottom of the
+dark lane. The truth is, they are highly unpoetical fellows, as
+well they may be, connected as they are with the Grecian mythology.
+At the very mention of their names the forge burns dull and dim, as
+if snowballs had been suddenly flung into it; the only remedy is to
+ply the bellows, an operation which I now hasten to perform.
+
+I am in the dingle making a horse-shoe. Having no other horses on
+whose hoofs I could exercise my art, I made my first essay on those
+of my own horse, if that could be called horse which horse was
+none, being only a pony. Perhaps, if I had sought all England, I
+should scarcely have found an animal more in need of the kind
+offices of the smith. On three of his feet there were no shoes at
+all, and on the fourth only a remnant of one, on which account his
+hoofs were sadly broken and lacerated by his late journeys over the
+hard and flinty roads. 'You belonged to a tinker before,' said I,
+addressing the animal, 'but now you belong to a smith. It is said
+that the household of the shoemaker invariably go worse shod than
+that of any other craft. That may be the case of those who make
+shoes of leather, but it shan't be said of the household of him who
+makes shoes of iron; at any rate it shan't be said of mine. I tell
+you what, my gry, whilst you continue with me, you shall both be
+better shod and better fed than you were with your last master.'
+
+I am in the dingle making a petul; and I must here observe that
+whilst I am making a horse-shoe the reader need not be surprised if
+I speak occasionally in the language of the lord of the horse-shoe-
+-Mr. Petulengro. I have for some time past been plying the
+peshota, or bellows, endeavouring to raise up the yag, or fire, in
+my primitive forge. The angar, or coals, are now burning fiercely,
+casting forth sparks and long vagescoe chipes, or tongues of flame;
+a small bar of sastra, or iron, is lying in the fire, to the length
+of ten or twelve inches, and so far it is hot, very hot, exceeding
+hot, brother. And now you see me prala, snatch the bar of iron,
+and place the heated end of it upon the covantza, or anvil, and
+forthwith I commence cooring the sastra as hard as if I had been
+just engaged by a master at the rate of dui caulor, or two
+shillings, a day, brother; and when I have beaten the iron till it
+is nearly cool, and my arm tired, I place it again in the angar,
+and begin again to rouse the fire with the pudamengro, which
+signifies the blowing thing, and is another and more common word
+for bellows; and whilst thus employed I sing a gypsy song, the
+sound of which is wonderfully in unison with the hoarse moaning of
+the pudamengro, and ere the song is finished, the iron is again hot
+and malleable. Behold, I place it once more on the covantza, and
+recommence hammering; and now I am somewhat at fault; I am in want
+of assistance; I want you, brother, or some one else, to take the
+bar out of my hand and support it upon the covantza, whilst I,
+applying a chinomescro, or kind of chisel, to the heated iron, cut
+off with a lusty stroke or two of the shukaro baro, or big hammer,
+as much as is required for the petul. But having no one to help
+me, I go on hammering till I have fairly knocked off as much as I
+want, and then I place the piece in the fire, and again apply the
+bellows, and take up the song where I left it off; and when I have
+finished the song, I take out the iron, but this time with my
+plaistra, or pincers, and then I recommence hammering, turning the
+iron round and round with my pincers: and now I bend the iron and,
+lo and behold! it has assumed something of the outline of a petul.
+
+I am not going to enter into farther details with respect to the
+process--it was rather a wearisome one. I had to contend with
+various disadvantages; my forge was a rude one, my tools might have
+been better; I was in want of one or two highly necessary
+implements, but, above all, manual dexterity. Though free of the
+forge, I had not practised the albeytarian art for very many years,
+never since--but stay, it is not my intention to tell the reader,
+at least in this place, how and when I became a blacksmith. There
+was one thing, however, which stood me in good stead in my labour,
+the same thing which through life has ever been of incalculable
+utility to me, and has not unfrequently supplied the place of
+friends, money, and many other things of almost equal importance--
+iron perseverance, without which all the advantages of time and
+circumstance are of very little avail in any undertaking. I was
+determined to make a horse-shoe, and a good one, in spite of every
+obstacle--ay, in spite of dukkerin. At the end of four days,
+during which I had fashioned and refashioned the thing at least
+fifty times, I had made a petul such as no master of the craft need
+have been ashamed of; with the second shoe I had less difficulty,
+and, by the time I had made the fourth, I would have scorned to
+take off my hat to the best smith in Cheshire.
+
+But I had not yet shod my little gry: this I proceeded now to do.
+After having first well pared the hoofs with my churi, I applied
+each petul hot, glowing hot, to the pindro. Oh, how the hoofs
+hissed! and, oh, the pleasant pungent odour which diffused itself
+through the dingle!--an odour good for an ailing spirit.
+
+I shod the little horse bravely--merely pricked him once, slightly,
+with a cafi, for doing which, I remember, he kicked me down; I was
+not disconcerted, however, but, getting up, promised to be more
+cautious in future; and having finished the operation, I filed the
+hoof well with the rin baro, then dismissed him to graze amongst
+the trees, and, putting my smaller tools into the muchtar, I sat
+down on my stone, and, supporting my arm upon my knee, leaned my
+head upon my hand. Heaviness had come over me.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXXIV
+
+
+
+Several causes--Frogs and eftes--Gloom and twilight--What should I
+do?--'Our Father'--Fellow-men--What a mercy!--Almost calm--Fresh
+store--History of Saul--Pitch dark.
+
+Heaviness had suddenly come over me, heaviness of heart, and of
+body also. I had accomplished the task which I had imposed upon
+myself, and now that nothing more remained to do, my energies
+suddenly deserted me, and I felt without strength, and without
+hope. Several causes, perhaps, co-operated to bring about the
+state in which I then felt myself. It is not improbable that my
+energies had been overstrained during the work the progress of
+which I have attempted to describe; and every one is aware that the
+results of overstrained energies are feebleness and lassitude--want
+of nourishment might likewise have something to do with it. During
+my sojourn in the dingle, my food had been of the simplest and most
+unsatisfying description, by no means calculated to support the
+exertion which the labour I had been engaged upon required; it had
+consisted of coarse oaten cakes and hard cheese, and for beverage I
+had been indebted to a neighbouring pit, in which, in the heat of
+the day, I frequently saw, not golden or silver fish, but frogs and
+eftes swimming about. I am, however, inclined to believe that Mrs.
+Herne's cake had quite as much to do with the matter as
+insufficient nourishment. I had never entirely recovered from the
+effects of its poison, but had occasionally, especially at night,
+been visited by a grinding pain in the stomach, and my whole body
+had been suffused with cold sweat; and indeed these memorials of
+the drow have never entirely disappeared--even at the present time
+they display themselves in my system, especially after much fatigue
+of body and excitement of mind. So there I sat in the dingle upon
+my stone, nerveless and hopeless, by whatever cause or causes that
+state had been produced--there I sat with my head leaning upon my
+hand, and so I continued a long, long time. At last I lifted my
+head from my hand, and began to cast anxious, unquiet looks about
+the dingle--the entire hollow was now enveloped in deep shade--I
+cast my eyes up; there was a golden gleam on the tops of the trees
+which grew towards the upper parts of the dingle; but lower down
+all was gloom and twilight--yet, when I first sat down on my stone,
+the sun was right above the dingle, illuminating all its depths by
+the rays which it cast perpendicularly down--so I must have sat a
+long, long time upon my stone. And now, once more, I rested my
+head upon my hand, but almost instantly lifted it again in a kind
+of fear, and began looking at the objects before me--the forge, the
+tools, the branches of the trees, endeavouring to follow their
+rows, till they were lost in the darkness of the dingle; and now I
+found my right hand grasping convulsively the three fore-fingers of
+the left, first collectively, and then successively, wringing them
+till the joints cracked; then I became quiet, but not for long.
+
+Suddenly I started up, and could scarcely repress the shriek which
+was rising to my lips. Was it possible? Yes, all too certain; the
+evil one was upon me; the inscrutable horror which I had felt in my
+boyhood had once more taken possession of me. I had thought that
+it had forsaken me--that it would never visit me again; that I had
+outgrown it; that I might almost bid defiance to it; and I had even
+begun to think of it without horror, as we are in the habit of
+doing of horrors of which we conceive we run no danger; and lo!
+when least thought of, it had seized me again. Every moment I felt
+it gathering force, and making me more wholly its own. What should
+I do?--resist, of course; and I did resist. I grasped, I tore, and
+strove to fling it from me; but of what avail were my efforts? I
+could only have got rid of it by getting rid of myself: it was a
+part of myself, or rather it was all myself. I rushed amongst the
+trees, and struck at them with my bare fists, and dashed my head
+against them, but I felt no pain. How could I feel pain with that
+horror upon me? And then I flung myself on the ground, gnawed the
+earth, and swallowed it; and then I looked round; it was almost
+total darkness in the dingle, and the darkness added to my horror.
+I could no longer stay there; up I rose from the ground, and
+attempted to escape. At the bottom of the winding path which led
+up the acclivity I fell over something which was lying on the
+ground; the something moved, and gave a kind of whine. It was my
+little horse, which had made that place its lair; my little horse;
+my only companion and friend in that now awful solitude. I reached
+the mouth of the dingle; the sun was just sinking in the far west
+behind me, the fields were flooded with his last gleams. How
+beautiful everything looked in the last gleams of the sun! I felt
+relieved for a moment; I was no longer in the horrid dingle. In
+another minute the sun was gone, and a big cloud occupied the place
+where he had been: in a little time it was almost as dark as it
+had previously been in the open part of the dingle. My horror
+increased; what was I to do?--it was of no use fighting against the
+horror--that I saw; the more I fought against it, the stronger it
+became. What should I do: say my prayers? Ah! why not? So I
+knelt down under the hedge, and said, 'Our Father'; but that was of
+no use; and now I could no longer repress cries--the horror was too
+great to be borne. What should I do? run to the nearest town or
+village, and request the assistance of my fellow-men? No! that I
+was ashamed to do; notwithstanding the horror was upon me, I was
+ashamed to do that. I knew they would consider me a maniac, if I
+went screaming amongst them; and I did not wish to be considered a
+maniac. Moreover, I knew that I was not a maniac, for I possessed
+all my reasoning powers, only the horror was upon me--the screaming
+horror! But how were indifferent people to distinguish between
+madness and the screaming horror? So I thought and reasoned; and
+at last I determined not to go amongst my fellow-men, whatever the
+result might be. I went to the mouth of the dingle, and there,
+placing myself on my knees, I again said the Lord's Prayer; but it
+was of no use--praying seemed to have no effect over the horror;
+the unutterable fear appeared rather to increase than diminish, and
+I again uttered wild cries, so loud that I was apprehensive they
+would be heard by some chance passenger on the neighbouring road; I
+therefore went deeper into the dingle. I sat down with my back
+against a thorn bush; the thorns entered my flesh, and when I felt
+them, I pressed harder against the bush; I thought the pain of the
+flesh might in some degree counteract the mental agony; presently I
+felt them no longer--the power of the mental horror was so great
+that it was impossible, with that upon me, to feel any pain from
+the thorns. I continued in this posture a long time, undergoing
+what I cannot describe, and would not attempt if I were able.
+Several times I was on the point of starting up and rushing
+anywhere; but I restrained myself, for I knew I could not escape
+from myself, so why should I not remain in the dingle? So I
+thought and said to myself, for my reasoning powers were still
+uninjured. At last it appeared to me that the horror was not so
+strong, not quite so strong, upon me. Was it possible that it was
+relaxing its grasp, releasing its prey? Oh what a mercy! but it
+could not be; and yet--I looked up to heaven, and clasped my hands,
+and said, 'Our Father.' I said no more--I was too agitated; and
+now I was almost sure that the horror had done its worst.
+
+After a little time I arose, and staggered down yet farther into
+the dingle. I again found my little horse on the same spot as
+before. I put my hand to his mouth--he licked my hand. I flung
+myself down by him, and put my arms round his neck; the creature
+whinnied, and appeared to sympathise with me. What a comfort to
+have any one, even a dumb brute, to sympathise with me at such a
+moment! I clung to my little horse, as if for safety and
+protection. I laid my head on his neck, and felt almost calm.
+Presently the fear returned, but not so wild as before; it
+subsided, came again, again subsided; then drowsiness came over me,
+and at last I fell asleep, my head supported on the neck of the
+little horse. I awoke; it was dark, dark night--not a star was to
+be seen--but I felt no fear, the horror had left me. I arose from
+the side of the little horse, and went into my tent, lay down, and
+again went to sleep.
+
+I awoke in the morning weak and sore, and shuddering at the
+remembrance of what I had gone through on the preceding day; the
+sun was shining brightly, but it had not yet risen high enough to
+show its head above the trees which fenced the eastern side of the
+dingle, on which account the dingle was wet and dank from the dews
+of the night. I kindled my fire, and, after sitting by it for some
+time to warm my frame, I took some of the coarse food which I have
+already mentioned; notwithstanding my late struggle, and the
+coarseness of the fare, I ate with appetite. My provisions had by
+this time been very much diminished, and I saw that it would be
+speedily necessary, in the event of my continuing to reside in the
+dingle, to lay in a fresh store. After my meal, I went to the pit
+and filled a can with water, which I brought to the dingle, and
+then again sat down on my stone. I considered what I should next
+do: it was necessary to do something, or my life in this solitude
+would be insupportable. What should I do? rouse up my forge and
+fashion a horse-shoe? But I wanted nerve and heart for such an
+employment; moreover, I had no motive for fatiguing myself in this
+manner; my own horse was shod, no other was at hand, and it is hard
+to work for the sake of working. What should I do? read? Yes, but
+I had no other book than the Bible which the Welsh Methodist had
+given me. Well, why not read the Bible? I was once fond of reading
+the Bible; ay, but those days were long gone by. However, I did
+not see what else I could well do on the present occasion--so I
+determined to read the Bible--it was in Welsh; at any rate it might
+amuse me. So I took the Bible out of the sack, in which it was
+lying in the cart, and began to read at the place where I chanced
+to open it. I opened it at that part where the history of Saul
+commences. At first I read with indifference, but after some time
+my attention was riveted, and no wonder, I had come to the
+visitations of Saul--those dark moments of his, when he did and
+said such unaccountable things; it almost appeared to me that I was
+reading of myself; I, too, had my visitations, dark as ever his
+were. Oh, how I sympathised with Saul, the tall dark man! I had
+read his life before, but it had made no impression on me; it had
+never occurred to me that I was like him; but I now sympathised
+with Saul, for my own dark hour was but recently passed, and,
+perhaps, would soon return again; the dark hour came frequently on
+Saul.
+
+Time wore away; I finished the book of Saul, and, closing the
+volume, returned it to its place. I then returned to my seat on
+the stone, and thought of what I had read, and what I had lately
+undergone. All at once I thought I felt well-known sensations, a
+cramping of the breast, and a tingling of the soles of the feet;
+they were what I had felt on the preceding day--they were the
+forerunners of the fear. I sat motionless on my stone, the
+sensations passed away, and the fear came not. Darkness was now
+coming again over the earth; the dingle was again in deep shade; I
+roused the fire with the breath of the bellows, and sat looking at
+the cheerful glow; it was cheering and comforting. My little horse
+came now and lay down on the ground beside the forge; I was not
+quite deserted. I again ate some of the coarse food, and drank
+plentifully of the water which I had fetched in the morning. I
+then put fresh fuel on the fire, and sat for a long time looking on
+the blaze; I then went into my tent.
+
+I awoke, on my own calculation, about midnight--it was pitch dark,
+and there was much fear upon me.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXXV
+
+
+
+Free and independent--I don't see why--Oats--A noise--Unwelcome
+visitors--What's the matter?--Good-day to ye--The tall girl--
+Dovrefeld--Blow on the face--Civil enough--What's this?--Vulgar
+woman--Hands off--Gasping for breath--Long Melford--A pretty
+manoeuvre--A long draught--Signs of animation--It won't do--No
+malice--Bad people.
+
+Two mornings after the period to which I have brought the reader in
+the preceding chapter, I sat by my fire at the bottom of the
+dingle; I had just breakfasted, and had finished the last morsel of
+food which I had brought with me to that solitude.
+
+'What shall I now do?' said I to myself; 'shall I continue here, or
+decamp?--this is a sad lonely spot--perhaps I had better quit it;
+but whither shall I go? the wide world is before me, but what can I
+do therein? I have been in the world already without much success.
+No, I had better remain here; the place is lonely, it is true, but
+here I am free and independent, and can do what I please; but I
+can't remain here without food. Well, I will find my way to the
+nearest town, lay in a fresh supply of provision, and come back,
+turning my back upon the world, which has turned its back upon me.
+I don't see why I should not write a little sometimes; I have pens
+and an ink-horn, and for a writing-desk I can place the Bible on my
+knee. I shouldn't wonder if I could write a capital satire on the
+world on the back of that Bible; but, first of all, I must think of
+supplying myself with food.'
+
+I rose up from the stone on which I was seated, determining to go
+to the nearest town, with my little horse and cart, and procure
+what I wanted. The nearest town, according to my best calculation,
+lay about five miles distant; I had no doubt, however, that, by
+using ordinary diligence, I should be back before evening. In
+order to go lighter, I determined to leave my tent standing as it
+was, and all the things which I had purchased of the tinker, just
+as they were. 'I need not be apprehensive on their account,' said
+I to myself; 'nobody will come here to meddle with them--the great
+recommendation of this place is its perfect solitude--I daresay
+that I could live here six months without seeing a single human
+visage. I will now harness my little gry and be off to the town.'
+
+At a whistle which I gave, the little gry, which was feeding on the
+bank near the uppermost part of the dingle, came running to me, for
+by this time he had become so accustomed to me that he would obey
+my call, for all the world as if he had been one of the canine
+species. 'Now,' said I to him, 'we are going to the town to buy
+bread for myself and oats for you--I am in a hurry to be back;
+therefore I pray you to do your best, and to draw me and the cart
+to the town with all possible speed, and to bring us back; if you
+do your best, I promise you oats on your return. You know the
+meaning of oats, Ambrol?' Ambrol whinnied as if to let me know
+that he understood me perfectly well, as indeed he well might, as I
+had never once fed him during the time that he had been in my
+possession without saying the word in question to him. Now,
+Ambrol, in the gypsy tongue, signifieth a pear.
+
+So I caparisoned Ambrol, and then, going to the cart, I removed two
+or three things from it into the tent; I then lifted up the shafts,
+and was just going to call to the pony to come and be fastened to
+them, when I thought I heard a noise.
+
+I stood stock still, supporting the shaft of the little cart in my
+hand, and bending the right side of my face slightly towards the
+ground, but I could hear nothing; the noise which I thought I had
+heard was not one of those sounds which I was accustomed to hear in
+that solitude--the note of a bird, or the rustling of a bough; it
+was--there I heard it again, a sound very much resembling the
+grating of a wheel amongst gravel. Could it proceed from the road?
+Oh no, the road was too far distant for me to hear the noise of
+anything moving along it. Again I listened, and now I distinctly
+heard the sound of wheels, which seemed to be approaching the
+dingle; nearer and nearer they drew, and presently the sound of
+wheels was blended with the murmur of voices. Anon I heard a
+boisterous shout, which seemed to proceed from the entrance of the
+dingle. 'Here are folks at hand,' said I, letting the shaft of the
+cart fall to the ground; 'is it possible that they can be coming
+here?' My doubts on that point, if I entertained any, were soon
+dispelled; the wheels, which had ceased moving for a moment or two,
+were once again in motion, and were now evidently moving down the
+winding path which led to my retreat. Leaving my cart, I came
+forward and placed myself near the entrance of the open space, with
+my eyes fixed on the path down which my unexpected, and I may say
+unwelcome, visitors were coming. Presently I heard a stamping or
+sliding, as if of a horse in some difficulty; then a loud curse,
+and the next moment appeared a man and a horse and cart; the former
+holding the head of the horse up to prevent him from falling, of
+which he was in danger, owing to the precipitous nature of the
+path. Whilst thus occupied, the head of the man was averted from
+me. When, however, he had reached the bottom of the descent, he
+turned his head, and perceiving me, as I stood bareheaded, without
+either coat or waistcoat, about two yards from him, he gave a
+sudden start, so violent that the backward motion of his hand had
+nearly flung the horse upon his haunches.
+
+'Why don't you move forward?' said a voice from behind, apparently
+that of a female; 'you are stopping up the way, and we shall be all
+down upon one another'; and I saw the head of another horse
+overtopping the back of the cart.
+
+'Why don't you move forward, Jack?' said another voice, also a
+female, yet higher up the path.
+
+The man stirred not, but remained staring at me in the posture
+which he had assumed on first perceiving me, his body very much
+drawn back, his left foot far in advance of his right, and with his
+right hand still grasping the halter of the horse, which gave way
+more and more, till it was clean down on its haunches.
+
+'What's the matter?' said the voice which I had last heard.
+
+'Get back with you, Belle, Moll,' said the man, still staring at
+me; 'here's something not over canny or comfortable.'
+
+'What is it?' said the same voice; 'let me pass, Moll, and I'll
+soon clear the way'; and I heard a kind of rushing down the path.
+
+'You need not be afraid,' said I, addressing myself to the man, 'I
+mean you no harm; I am a wanderer like yourself--come here to seek
+for shelter--you need not be afraid; I am a Roman chabo by
+matriculation--one of the right sort, and no mistake--Good-day to
+ye, brother; I bid ye welcome.'
+
+The man eyed me suspiciously for a moment--then, turning to his
+horse with a loud curse, he pulled him up from his haunches, and
+led him and the cart farther down to one side of the dingle,
+muttering, as he passed me, 'Afraid! Hm!'
+
+I do not remember ever to have seen a more ruffianly-looking
+fellow; he was about six feet high, with an immensely athletic
+frame; his face was black and bluff, and sported an immense pair of
+whiskers, but with here and there a gray hair, for his age could
+not be much under fifty. He wore a faded blue frock-coat,
+corduroys, and highlows; on his black head was a kind of red
+nightcap, round his bull neck a Barcelona handkerchief--I did not
+like the look of the man at all.
+
+'Afraid!' growled the fellow, proceeding to unharness his horse;
+'that was the word, I think.'
+
+But other figures were now already upon the scene. Dashing past
+the other horse and cart, which by this time had reached the bottom
+of the pass, appeared an exceedingly tall woman, or rather girl,
+for she could scarcely have been above eighteen; she was dressed in
+a tight bodice and a blue stuff gown; hat, bonnet, or cap she had
+none, and her hair, which was flaxen, hung down on her shoulders
+unconfined; her complexion was fair, and her features handsome,
+with a determined but open expression--she was followed by another
+female, about forty, stout and vulgar-looking, at whom I scarcely
+glanced, my whole attention being absorbed by the tall girl.
+
+'What's the matter, Jack?' said the latter, looking at the man.
+
+'Only afraid, that's all,' said the man, still proceeding with his
+work.
+
+'Afraid at what--at that lad? why, he looks like a ghost--I would
+engage to thrash him with one hand.'
+
+'You might beat me with no hands at all,' said I, 'fair damsel,
+only by looking at me--I never saw such a face and figure, both
+regal--why, you look like Ingeborg, Queen of Norway; she had twelve
+brothers, you know, and could lick them all, though they were
+heroes:-
+
+
+On Dovrefeld in Norway
+Were once together seen
+The twelve heroic brothers
+Of Ingeborg the queen.'
+
+
+'None of your chaffing, young fellow,' said the tall girl, 'or I
+will give you what shall make you wipe your face; be civil, or you
+will rue it.'
+
+'Well, perhaps I was a peg too high,' said I; 'I ask your pardon--
+here's something a bit lower:-
+
+
+As I was jawing to the gav yeck divvus
+I met on the drom miro Rommany chi--'
+
+
+None of your Rommany chies, young fellow,' said the tall girl,
+looking more menacingly than before, and clenching her fist; 'you
+had better be civil, I am none of your chies; and though I keep
+company with gypsies, or, to speak more proper, half-and-halfs, I
+would have you to know that I come of Christian blood and parents,
+and was born in the great house of Long Melford.'
+
+'I have no doubt,' said I, 'that it was a great house; judging from
+your size I shouldn't wonder if you were born in a church.'
+
+'Stay, Belle,' said the man, putting himself before the young
+virago, who was about to rush upon me, 'my turn is first'--then,
+advancing to me in a menacing attitude, he said, with a look of
+deep malignity, '"Afraid," was the word, wasn't it?'
+
+'It was,' said I, 'but I think I wronged you; I should have said,
+aghast; you exhibited every symptom of one labouring under
+uncontrollable fear.'
+
+The fellow stared at me with a look of stupid ferocity, and
+appeared to be hesitating whether to strike or not: ere he could
+make up his mind, the tall girl started forward, crying, 'He's
+chaffing; let me at him'; and before I could put myself on my
+guard, she struck me a blow on the face which had nearly brought me
+to the ground.
+
+'Enough,' said I, putting my hand to my cheek; 'you have now
+performed your promise, and made me wipe my face: now be pacified,
+and tell me fairly the grounds of this quarrel.'
+
+'Grounds!' said the fellow; 'didn't you say I was afraid; and if
+you hadn't, who gave you leave to camp on my ground?'
+
+'Is it your ground?' said I.
+
+'A pretty question,' said the fellow; 'as if all the world didn't
+know that. Do you know who I am?'
+
+'I guess I do,' said I; 'unless I am much mistaken, you are he whom
+folks call the "Flaming Tinman." To tell you the truth, I'm glad
+we have met, for I wished to see you. These are your two wives, I
+suppose; I greet them. There's no harm done--there's room enough
+here for all of us--we shall soon be good friends, I daresay; and
+when we are a little better acquainted, I'll tell you my history.'
+
+'Well, if that doesn't beat all!' said the fellow.
+
+'I don't think he's chaffing now,' said the girl, whose anger
+seemed to have subsided on a sudden; 'the young man speaks civil
+enough.'
+
+'Civil!' said the fellow, with an oath; 'but that's just like you;
+with you it is a blow, and all over. Civil! I suppose you would
+have him stay here, and get into all my secrets, and hear all I may
+have to say to my two morts.'
+
+'Two morts!' said the girl, kindling up, 'where are they? Speak
+for one, and no more. I am no mort of yours, whatever some one
+else may be. I tell you one thing, Black John, or Anselo,--for
+t'other ain't your name,--the same thing I told the young man here,
+be civil, or you will rue it.'
+
+The fellow looked at the girl furiously, but his glance soon
+quailed before hers; he withdrew his eyes, and cast them on my
+little horse, which was feeding amongst the trees. 'What's this?'
+said he, rushing forward and seizing the animal. 'Why, as I am
+alive, this is the horse of that mumping villain Slingsby.'
+
+'It's his no longer; I bought it and paid for it.'
+
+'It's mine now,' said the fellow; 'I swore I would seize it the
+next time I found it on my beat; ay, and beat the master too.'
+
+'I am not Slingsby.'
+
+'All's one for that.'
+
+'You don't say you will beat me?'
+
+'Afraid was the word.'
+
+'I'm sick and feeble.'
+
+'Hold up your fists.'
+
+'Won't the horse satisfy you?'
+
+'Horse nor bellows either.'
+
+'No mercy, then?'
+
+'Here's at you.'
+
+'Mind your eyes, Jack. There, you've got it. I thought so,'
+shouted the girl, as the fellow staggered back from a sharp blow in
+the eye; 'I thought he was chaffing at you all along.'
+
+'Never mind, Anselo. You know what to do--go in,' said the vulgar
+woman, who had hitherto not spoken a word, but who now came forward
+with all the look of a fury; 'go inapopli; you'll smash ten like
+he.'
+
+The Flaming Tinman took her advice, and came in bent on smashing,
+but stopped short on receiving a left-handed blow on the nose.
+
+'You'll never beat the Flaming Tinman in that way,' said the girl,
+looking at me doubtfully.
+
+And so I began to think myself, when, in the twinkling of an eye,
+the Flaming Tinman, disengaging himself of his frock-coat, and
+dashing off his red night-cap, came rushing in more desperately
+than ever. To a flush hit which he received in the mouth he paid
+as little attention as a wild bull would have done; in a moment his
+arms were around me, and in another he had hurled me down, falling
+heavily upon me. The fellow's strength appeared to be tremendous.
+
+'Pay him off now,' said the vulgar woman. The Flaming Tinman made
+no reply, but, planting his knee on my breast, seized my throat
+with two huge horny hands. I gave myself up for dead, and probably
+should have been so in another minute but for the tall girl, who
+caught hold of the handkerchief which the fellow wore round his
+neck, with a grasp nearly as powerful us that with which he pressed
+my throat.
+
+'Do you call that fair play?' said she.
+
+'Hands off, Belle,' said the other woman; 'do you call it fair play
+to interfere? hands off, or I'll be down upon you myself.'
+
+But Belle paid no heed to the injunction, and tugged so hard at the
+handkerchief that the Flaming Tinman was nearly throttled; suddenly
+relinquishing his hold of me, he started on his feet, and aimed a
+blow at my fair preserver, who avoided it, but said coolly:-
+
+'Finish t'other business first, and then I'm your woman whenever
+you like; but finish it fairly--no foul play when I'm by--I'll be
+the boy's second, and Moll can pick up you when he happens to knock
+you down.'
+
+The battle during the next ten minutes raged with considerable
+fury, but it so happened that during this time I was never able to
+knock the Flaming Tinman down, but on the contrary received six
+knock-down blows myself. 'I can never stand this,' said I, as I
+sat on the knee of Belle, 'I am afraid I must give in; the Flaming
+Tinman hits very hard,' and I spat out a mouthful of blood.
+
+'Sure enough you'll never beat the Flaming Tinman in the way you
+fight--it's of no use flipping at the Flaming Tinman with your left
+hand; why don't you use your right?'
+
+'Because I'm not handy with it,' said I; and then getting up, I
+once more confronted the Flaming Tinman, and struck him six blows
+for his one, but they were all left-handed blows, and the blow
+which the Flaming Tinman gave me knocked me off my legs.
+
+'Now, will you use Long Melford?' said Belle, picking me up.
+
+'I don't know what you mean by Long Melford,' said I, gasping for
+breath.
+
+'Why, this long right of yours,' said Belle, feeling my right arm;
+'if you do, I shouldn't wonder if you yet stand a chance.' And now
+the Flaming Tinman was once more ready, much more ready than
+myself. I, however, rose from my second's knee as well as my
+weakness would permit me. On he came, striking left and right,
+appearing almost as fresh as to wind and spirit as when he first
+commenced the combat, though his eyes were considerably swelled,
+and his nether lip was cut in two; on he came, striking left and
+right, and I did not like his blows at all, or even the wind of
+them, which was anything but agreeable, and I gave way before him.
+At last he aimed a blow which, had it taken full effect, would
+doubtless have ended the battle, but owing to his slipping, the
+fist only grazed my left shoulder, and came with terrific force
+against a tree, close to which I had been driven; before the Tinman
+could recover himself, I collected all my strength, and struck him
+beneath the ear, and then fell to the ground completely exhausted;
+and it so happened that the blow which I struck the Tinker beneath
+the ear was a right-handed blow.
+
+'Hurrah for Long Melford!' I heard Belle exclaim; 'there is nothing
+like Long Melford for shortness, all the world over.' At these
+words I turned round my head as I lay, and perceived the Flaming
+Tinman stretched upon the ground apparently senseless. 'He is
+dead,' said the vulgar woman, as she vainly endeavoured to raise
+him up; 'he is dead; the best man in all the north country, killed
+in this fashion, by a boy!' Alarmed at these words, I made shift
+to get on my feet; and, with the assistance of the woman, placed my
+fallen adversary in a sitting posture. I put my hand to his heart,
+and felt a slight pulsation--'He's not dead,' said I, 'only
+stunned; if he were let blood, he would recover presently.' I
+produced a penknife which I had in my pocket, and, baring the arm
+of the Tinman, was about to make the necessary incision, when the
+woman gave me a violent blow, and, pushing me aside, exclaimed,
+'I'll tear the eyes out of your head if you offer to touch him. Do
+you want to complete your work, and murder him outright, now he's
+asleep? you have had enough of his blood already.' 'You are mad,'
+said I, 'I only seek to do him service. Well, if you won't let him
+be blooded, fetch some water and fling it in his face, you know
+where the pit is.'
+
+'A pretty manoeuvre!' said the woman; 'leave my husband in the
+hands of you and that limmer, who has never been true to us--I
+should find him strangled or his throat cut when I came back.' 'Do
+you go,' said I to the tall girl; 'take the can and fetch some
+water from the pit.' 'You had better go yourself,' said the girl,
+wiping a tear as she looked on the yet senseless form of the
+Tinker; 'you had better go yourself, if you think water will do him
+good.' I had by this time somewhat recovered my exhausted powers,
+and, taking the can, I bent my steps as fast as I could to the pit;
+arriving there, I lay down on the brink, took a long draught, and
+then plunged my head into the water; after which I filled the can,
+and bent my way back to the dingle. Before I could reach the path
+which led down into its depths, I had to pass some way along its
+side; I had arrived at a part immediately over the scene of the
+last encounter, where the bank, overgrown with trees, sloped
+precipitously down. Here I heard a loud sound of voices in the
+dingle; I stopped, and laying hold of a tree, leaned over the bank
+and listened. The two women appeared to be in hot dispute in the
+dingle. 'It was all owing to you, you limmer,' said the vulgar
+woman to the other; 'had you not interfered, the old man would soon
+have settled the boy.'
+
+'I'm for fair play and Long Melford,' said the other. 'If your old
+man, as you call him, could have settled the boy fairly, he might
+for all I should have cared, but no foul work for me, and as for
+sticking the boy with our gulleys when he comes back, as you
+proposed, I am not so fond of your old man or you that I should
+oblige you in it, to my soul's destruction.' 'Hold your tongue, or
+I'll--' I listened no farther, but hastened as fast as I could to
+the dingle. My adversary had just begun to show signs of
+animation; the vulgar woman was still supporting him, and
+occasionally cast glances of anger at the tall girl, who was
+walking slowly up and down. I lost no time in dashing the greater
+part of the water into the Tinman's face, whereupon he sneezed,
+moved his hands, and presently looked round him. At first his
+looks were dull and heavy, and without any intelligence at all; he
+soon, however, began to recollect himself, and to be conscious of
+his situation; he cast a scowling glance at me, then one of the
+deepest malignity at the tall girl, who was still walking about
+without taking much notice of what was going forward. At last he
+looked at his right hand, which had evidently suffered from the
+blow against the tree, and a half-stifled curse escaped his lips.
+The vulgar woman now said something to him in a low tone, whereupon
+he looked at her for a moment, and then got upon his legs. Again
+the vulgar woman said something to him; her looks were furious, and
+she appeared to be urging him on to attempt something. I observed
+that she had a clasped knife in her hand. The fellow remained
+standing for some time as if hesitating what to do; at last he
+looked at his hand, and, shaking his head, said something to the
+woman which I did not understand. The tall girl, however, appeared
+to overhear him, and, probably repeating his words, said, 'No, it
+won't do; you are right there; and now hear what I have to say,--
+let bygones be bygones, and let us all shake hands, and camp here,
+as the young man was saying just now.' The man looked at her, and
+then, without any reply, went to his horse, which was lying down
+among the trees, and kicking it up, led it to the cart, to which he
+forthwith began to harness it. The other cart and horse had
+remained standing motionless during the whole affair which I have
+been recounting, at the bottom of the pass. The woman now took the
+horse by the head, and leading it with the cart into the open part
+of the dingle, turned both round, and then led them back, till the
+horse and cart had mounted a little way up the ascent; she then
+stood still and appeared to be expecting the man. During this
+proceeding Belle had stood looking on without saying anything; at
+last, perceiving that the man had harnessed his horse to the other
+cart, and that both he and the woman were about to take their
+departure, she said, 'You are not going, are you?' Receiving no
+answer, she continued: 'I tell you what, both of you, Black John,
+and you Moll, his mort, this is not treating me over civilly,--
+however, I am ready to put up with it, and to go with you if you
+like, for I bear no malice. I'm sorry for what has happened, but
+you have only yourselves to thank for it. Now, shall I go with
+you, only tell me?' The man made no manner of reply, but flogged
+his horse. The woman, however, whose passions were probably under
+less control, replied, with a screeching tone, 'Stay where you are,
+you jade, and may the curse of Judas cling to you,--stay with the
+bit of a mullo whom you helped, and my only hope is that he may
+gulley you before he comes to be . . . . Have you with us, indeed!
+after what's past! no, nor nothing belonging to you. Fetch down
+your mailia go-cart and live here with your chabo.' She then
+whipped on the horse, and ascended the pass, followed by the man.
+The carts were light, and they were not long in ascending the
+winding path. I followed to see that they took their departure.
+Arriving at the top, I found near the entrance a small donkey-cart,
+which I concluded belonged to the girl. The tinker and his mort
+were already at some distance; I stood looking after them for a
+little time, then taking the donkey by the reins I led it with the
+cart to the bottom of the dingle. Arrived there, I found Belle
+seated on the stone by the fireplace. Her hair was all
+dishevelled, and she was in tears.
+
+'They were bad people,' said she, 'and I did not like them, but
+they were my only acquaintance in the wide world.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXXVI
+
+
+
+At tea--Vapours--Isopel Berners--Softly and kindly--Sweet pretty
+creature--Bread and water--Two sailors--Truth and constancy--Very
+strangely.
+
+In the evening of that same day the tall girl and I sat at tea by
+the fire, at the bottom of the dingle; the girl on a small stool,
+and myself, as usual, upon my stone.
+
+The water which served for the tea had been taken from a spring of
+pellucid water in the neighbourhood, which I had not had the good
+fortune to discover, though it was well known to my companion, and
+to the wandering people who frequented the dingle.
+
+'This tea is very good,' said I, 'but I cannot enjoy it as much as
+if I were well: I feel very sadly.'
+
+'How else should you feel,' said the girl, 'after fighting with the
+Flaming Tinman? All I wonder at is that you can feel at all! As
+for the tea, it ought to be good, seeing that it cost me ten
+shillings a pound.'
+
+'That's a great deal for a person in your station to pay.'
+
+'In my station! I'd have you to know, young man--however, I
+haven't the heart to quarrel with you, you look so ill; and after
+all, it is a good sum for one to pay who travels the roads; but if
+I must have tea, I like to have the best; and tea I must have, for
+I am used to it, though I can't help thinking that it sometimes
+fills my head with strange fancies--what some folks call vapours,
+making me weep and cry.'
+
+'Dear me,' said I, 'I should never have thought that one of your
+size and fierceness would weep and cry!'
+
+'My size and fierceness! I tell you what, young man, you are not
+over civil this evening; but you are ill, as I said before, and I
+shan't take much notice of your language, at least for the present;
+as for my size, I am not so much bigger than yourself; and as for
+being fierce, you should be the last one to fling that at me. It
+is well for you that I can be fierce sometimes. If I hadn't taken
+your part against Blazing Bosville, you wouldn't be now taking tea
+with me.'
+
+'It is true that you struck me in the face first; but we'll let
+that pass. So that man's name is Bosville; what's your own?'
+
+'Isopel Berners.'
+
+'How did you get that name?'
+
+'I say, young man, you seem fond of asking questions: will you
+have another cup of tea?'
+
+'I was just going to ask for another.'
+
+'Well, then, here it is, and much good may it do you; as for my
+name, I got it from my mother.'
+
+'Your mother's name, then, was Isopel!'
+
+'Isopel Berners.'
+
+'But had you never a father?'
+
+'Yes, I had a father,' said the girl, sighing, 'but I don't bear
+his name.'
+
+'Is it the fashion, then, in your country for children to bear
+their mother's name?'
+
+'If you ask such questions, young man, I shall be angry with you.
+I have told you my name, and, whether my father's or mother's, I am
+not ashamed of it.'
+
+'It is a noble name.'
+
+'There you are right, young man. The chaplain in the great house
+where I was born told me it was a noble name; it was odd enough, he
+said, that the only three noble names in the county were to be
+found in the great house; mine was one; the other two were Devereux
+and Bohun.'
+
+'What do you mean by the great house?'
+
+'The workhouse.'
+
+'Is it possible that you were born there?'
+
+'Yes, young man; and as you now speak softly and kindly, I will
+tell you my whole tale. My father was an officer of the sea, and
+was killed at sea as he was coming home to marry my mother, Isopel
+Berners. He had been acquainted with her, and had left her; but
+after a few months he wrote her a letter, to say that he had no
+rest, and that he repented, and that as soon as his ship came to
+port he would do her all the reparation in his power. Well, young
+man, the very day before they reached port they met the enemy, and
+there was a fight, and my father was killed, after he had struck
+down six of the enemy's crew on their own deck; for my father was a
+big man, as I have heard, and knew tolerably well how to use his
+hands, And when my mother heard the news, she became half
+distracted, and ran away into the fields and forests, totally
+neglecting her business, for she was a small milliner; and so she
+ran demented about the meads and forests for a long time, now
+sitting under a tree, and now by the side of a river--at last she
+flung herself into some water, and would have been drowned, had not
+some one been at hand and rescued her, whereupon she was conveyed
+to the great house, lest she should attempt to do herself farther
+mischief, for she had neither friends nor parents--and there she
+died three months after, having first brought me into the world.
+She was a sweet pretty creature, I'm told, but hardly fit for this
+world, being neither large, nor fierce, nor able to take her own
+part. So I was born and bred in the great house, where I learnt to
+read and sew, to fear God, and to take my own part. When I was
+fourteen I was put out to service to a small farmer and his wife,
+with whom, however, I did not stay long, for I was half-starved,
+and otherwise ill treated, especially by my mistress, who one day
+attempting to knock me down with a besom, I knocked her down with
+my fist, and went back to the great house.'
+
+'And how did they receive you in the great house?'
+
+'Not very kindly, young man--on the contrary, I was put into a dark
+room, where I was kept a fortnight on bread and water; I did not
+much care, however, being glad to have got back to the great house
+at any rate--the place where I was born, and where my poor mother
+died; and in the great house I continued two years longer, reading
+and sewing, fearing God, and taking my own part when necessary. At
+the end of the two years I was again put out to service, but this
+time to a rich farmer and his wife, with whom, however, I did not
+live long, less time, I believe, than with the poor ones, being
+obliged to leave for--'
+
+'Knocking your mistress down?'
+
+'No, young man, knocking my master down, who conducted himself
+improperly towards me. This time I did not go back to the great
+house, having a misgiving that they would not receive me; so I
+turned my back to the great house where I was born, and where my
+poor mother died, and wandered for several days I know not whither,
+supporting myself on a few halfpence which I chanced to have in my
+pocket. It happened one day, as I sat under a hedge crying, having
+spent my last farthing, that a comfortable-looking elderly woman
+came up in a cart, and seeing the state in which I was, she stopped
+and asked what was the matter with me; I told her some part of my
+story, whereupon she said, 'Cheer up, my dear; if you like, you
+shall go with me, and wait upon me.' Of course I wanted little
+persuasion, so I got into the cart and went with her. She took me
+to London and various other places, and I soon found that she was a
+travelling woman, who went about the country with silks and linen.
+I was of great use to her, more especially in those places where we
+met evil company. Once, as we were coming from Dover, we were met
+by two sailors, who stopped our cart, and would have robbed and
+stripped us. 'Let me get down,' said I; so I got down, and fought
+with them both, till they turned round and ran away. Two years I
+lived with the old gentlewoman, who was very kind to me, almost as
+kind as a mother; at last she fell sick at a place in Lincolnshire,
+and after a few days died, leaving me her cart and stock in trade,
+praying me only to see her decently buried--which I did, giving her
+a funeral fit for a gentlewoman. After which I travelled the
+country--melancholy enough for want of company, but so far
+fortunate, that I could take my own part when anybody was uncivil
+to me. At last, passing through the valley of Todmorden, I formed
+the acquaintance of Blazing Bosville and his wife, with whom I
+occasionally took journeys for company's sake, for it is melancholy
+to travel about alone, even when one can take one's own part. I
+soon found they were evil people; but, upon the whole, they treated
+me civilly, and I sometimes lent them a little money, so that we
+got on tolerably well together. He and I, it is true, had once a
+dispute, and nearly came to blows; for once, when we were alone, he
+wanted me to marry him, promising, if I would, to turn off Grey
+Moll, or, if I liked it better, to make her wait upon me as a maid-
+servant; I never liked him much, but from that hour less than ever.
+Of the two, I believe Grey Moll to be the best, for she is at any
+rate true and faithful to him, and I like truth and constancy--
+don't you, young man?'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'they are very nice things. I feel very strangely.'
+
+'How do you feel, young man?
+
+'Very much afraid.'
+
+'Afraid, at what? At the Flaming Tinman? Don't be afraid of him.
+He won't come back, and if he did, he shouldn't touch you in this
+state, I'd fight him for you; but he won't come back, so you
+needn't be afraid of him.'
+
+'I'm not afraid of the Flaming Tinman.'
+
+'What, then, are you afraid of?'
+
+'The evil one.'
+
+'The evil one!' said the girl, 'where is he?'
+
+'Coming upon me.'
+
+'Never heed,' said the girl, 'I'll stand by you.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXXVII
+
+
+
+Hubbub of voices--No offence--Nodding--The guests.
+
+The kitchen of the public-house was a large one, and many people
+were drinking in it; there was a confused hubbub of voices.
+
+I sat down on a bench behind a deal table, of which there were
+three or four in the kitchen; presently a bulky man, in a green
+coat of the Newmarket cut, and without a hat, entered, and
+observing me, came up, and in rather a gruff tone cried, 'Want
+anything, young fellow?'
+
+'Bring me a jug of ale,' said I, 'if you are the master, as I
+suppose you are, by that same coat of yours, and your having no hat
+on your head.'
+
+'Don't be saucy, young fellow,' said the landlord, for such he was;
+'don't be saucy, or--' Whatever he intended to say he left unsaid,
+for fixing his eyes upon one of my hands, which I had placed by
+chance upon the table, he became suddenly still.
+
+This was my left hand, which was raw and swollen, from the blows
+dealt on a certain hard skull in a recent combat. 'What do you
+mean by staring at my hand so?' said I, withdrawing it from the
+table.
+
+'No offence, young man, no offence,' said the landlord, in a quite
+altered tone; 'but the sight of your hand--' then observing that
+our conversation began to attract the notice of the guests in the
+kitchen, he interrupted himself, saying in an undertone, 'But mum's
+the word for the present, I will go and fetch the ale.'
+
+In about a minute he returned, with a jug of ale foaming high.
+'Here's your health,' said he, blowing off the foam, and drinking;
+but perceiving that I looked rather dissatisfied, he murmured,
+'All's right, I glory in you; but mum's the word.' Then, placing
+the jug on the table, he gave me a confidential nod, and swaggered
+out of the room.
+
+What can the silly impertinent fellow mean? thought I; but the ale
+was now before me, and I hastened to drink, for my weakness was
+great, and my mind was full of dark thoughts, the remains of the
+indescribable horror of the preceding night. It may kill me,
+thought I, as I drank deep--but who cares? anything is better than
+what I have suffered. I drank deep, and then leaned back against
+the wall: it appeared as if a vapour was stealing up into my
+brain, gentle and benign, soothing and stifling the horror and the
+fear; higher and higher it mounted, and I felt nearly overcome; but
+the sensation was delicious, compared with that I had lately
+experienced, and now I felt myself nodding; and, bending down, I
+laid my head on the table on my folded hands.
+
+And in that attitude I remained some time, perfectly unconscious.
+At length, by degrees, perception returned, and I lifted up my
+head. I felt somewhat dizzy and bewildered, but the dark shadow
+had withdrawn itself from me. And now once more I drank of the
+jug; this second draught did not produce an overpowering effect
+upon me--it revived and strengthened me--I felt a new man.
+
+I looked around me; the kitchen had been deserted by the greater
+part of the guests; besides myself, only four remained; these were
+seated at the farther end. One was haranguing fiercely and
+eagerly; he was abusing England, and praising America. At last he
+exclaimed, 'So when I gets to New York, I will toss up my hat, and
+damn the King.'
+
+That man must be a Radical, thought I.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXXVIII
+
+
+
+A Radical--Simple-looking man--Church of England--The President--
+Aristocracy--Gin and water--Mending the roads--Persecuting Church--
+Simon de Montfort--Broken bells--Get up--Not for the Pope--Quay of
+New York--Mumpers' Dingle--No wish to fight--First draught--A poor
+pipe--Half-a-crown broke.
+
+The individual whom I supposed to be a Radical, after a short
+pause, again uplifted his voice; he was rather a strong-built
+fellow of about thirty, with an ill-favoured countenance, a white
+hat on his head, a snuff-coloured coat on his back, and when he was
+not speaking, a pipe in his mouth. 'Who would live in such a
+country as England?' he shouted.
+
+'There is no country like America,' said his nearest neighbour, a
+man also in a white hat, and of a very ill-favoured countenance--
+'there is no country like America,' said he, withdrawing a pipe
+from his mouth; 'I think I shall--' and here he took a draught from
+a jug, the contents of which he appeared to have in common with the
+other,--'go to America one of these days myself.'
+
+'Poor old England is not such a bad country, after all,' said a
+third, a simple-looking man in a labouring dress, who sat smoking a
+pipe without anything before him. 'If there was but a little more
+work to be got, I should have nothing to say against her; I hope,
+however--'
+
+'You hope! who cares what you hope?' interrupted the first, in a
+savage tone; 'you are one of those sneaking hounds who are
+satisfied with dogs' wages--a bit of bread and a kick. Work,
+indeed! who, with the spirit of a man, would work for a country
+where there is neither liberty of speech nor of action? a land full
+of beggarly aristocracy, hungry borough-mongers, insolent parsons,
+and "their . . . wives and daughters," as William Cobbett says, in
+his "Register."'
+
+'Ah, the Church of England has been a source of incalculable
+mischief to these realms,' said another.
+
+The person who uttered these words sat rather aloof from the rest;
+he was dressed in a long black surtout. I could not see much of
+his face, partly owing to his keeping it very much directed to the
+ground, and partly owing to a large slouched hat which he wore; I
+observed, however, that his hair was of a reddish tinge. On the
+table near him was a glass and spoon.
+
+'You are quite right,' said the first, alluding to what this last
+had said, 'the Church of England has done incalculable mischief
+here. I value no religion three halfpence, for I believe in none;
+but the one that I hate most is the Church of England; so when I
+get to New York, after I have shown the fine fellows on the quay a
+spice of me, by . . . the King, I'll toss up my hat again, and . .
+. the Church of England too.'
+
+'And suppose the people of New York should clap you in the stocks?'
+said I.
+
+These words drew upon me the attention of the whole four. The
+Radical and his companion stared at me ferociously; the man in
+black gave me a peculiar glance from under his slouched hat; the
+simple-looking man in the labouring dress laughed.
+
+'What are you laughing at, you fool?' said the Radical, turning and
+looking at the other, who appeared to be afraid of him; 'hold your
+noise; and a pretty fellow, you,' said he, looking at me, 'to come
+here, and speak against the great American nation.'
+
+'I speak against the great American nation!' said I; 'I rather paid
+them a compliment.'
+
+'By supposing they would put me in the stocks. Well, I call it
+abusing them, to suppose they would do any such thing--stocks,
+indeed!--there are no stocks in all the land. Put me in the
+stocks! why, the President will come down to the quay, and ask me
+to dinner, as soon as he hears what I have said about the King and
+Church.'
+
+'I shouldn't wonder,' said I, 'if you go to America you will say of
+the President and country what now you say of the King and Church,
+and cry out for somebody to send you back to England.'
+
+The Radical dashed his pipe to pieces against the table. 'I tell
+you what, young fellow, you are a spy of the aristocracy, sent here
+to kick up a disturbance.'
+
+'Kicking up a disturbance,' said I, 'is rather inconsistent with
+the office of spy. If I were a spy, I should hold my head down,
+and say nothing.'
+
+The man in black partially raised his head, and gave me another
+peculiar glance.
+
+'Well, if you aren't sent to spy, you are sent to bully, to prevent
+people speaking, and to run down the great American nation; but you
+shan't bully me. I say, down with the aristocracy, the beggarly
+British aristocracy. Come, what have you to say to that?'
+
+'Nothing,' said I.
+
+'Nothing!' repeated the Radical.
+
+'No,' said I, 'down with them as soon as you can.'
+
+'As soon as I can! I wish I could. But I can down with a bully of
+theirs. Come, will you fight for them?'
+
+'No,' said I.
+
+'You won't?
+
+'No,' said I; 'though, from what I have seen of them, I should say
+they are tolerably able to fight for themselves.'
+
+'You won't fight for them,' said the Radical triumphantly; 'I
+thought so; all bullies, especially those of the aristocracy, are
+cowards. Here, landlord,' said he, raising his voice, and striking
+against the table with the jug, 'some more ale--he won't fight for
+his friends.'
+
+'A white feather,' said his companion.
+
+'He! he!' tittered the man in black.
+
+'Landlord, landlord,' shouted the Radical, striking the table with
+the jug louder than before. 'Who called?' said the landlord,
+coming in at last. 'Fill this jug again,' said the other, 'and be
+quick about it.' 'Does any one else want anything?' said the
+landlord. 'Yes,' said the man in black; 'you may bring me another
+glass of gin and water.' 'Cold?' said the landlord. 'Yes,' said
+the man in black, 'with a lump of sugar in it.'
+
+'Gin and water cold, with a lump of sugar in it,' said I, and
+struck the table with my fist.
+
+'Take some?' said the landlord, inquiringly.
+
+'No,' said I, 'only something came into my head.'
+
+'He's mad,' said the man in black.
+
+'Not he,' said the Radical. 'He's only shamming; he knows his
+master is here, and therefore has recourse to these manoeuvres, but
+it won't do. Come, landlord, what are you staring at? Why don't
+you obey your orders? Keeping your customers waiting in this
+manner is not the way to increase your business.'
+
+The landlord looked at the Radical, and then at me. At last,
+taking the jug and glass, he left the apartment, and presently
+returned with each filled with its respective liquor. He placed
+the jug with beer before the Radical, and the glass with the gin
+and water before the man in black, and then, with a wink to me, he
+sauntered out.
+
+'Here is your health, sir,' said the man of the snuff-coloured
+coat, addressing himself to the one in black; 'I honour you for
+what you said about the Church of England. Every one who speaks
+against the Church of England has my warm heart. Down with it, I
+say, and may the stones of it be used for mending the roads, as my
+friend William says in his Register.'
+
+The man in black, with a courteous nod of his head, drank to the
+man in the snuff-coloured coat. 'With respect to the steeples,'
+said he, 'I am not altogether of your opinion; they might be turned
+to better account than to serve to mend the roads; they might still
+be used as places of worship, but not for the worship of the Church
+of England. I have no fault to find with the steeples, it is the
+Church itself which I am compelled to arraign; but it will not
+stand long, the respectable part of its ministers are already
+leaving it. It is a bad Church, a persecuting Church.'
+
+'Whom does it persecute?' said I.
+
+The man in black glanced at me slightly, and then replied slowly,
+'The Catholics.'
+
+'And do those whom you call Catholics never persecute?' said I.
+
+'Never,' said the man in black.
+
+'Did you ever read Foxe's Book of Martyrs?' said I.
+
+'He! he!' tittered the man in black; 'there is not a word of truth
+in Foxe's Book of Martyrs.'
+
+'Ten times more than in the Flos Sanctorum,' said I.
+
+The man in black looked at me, but made no answer.
+
+'And what say you to the Massacre of the Albigenses and the
+Vaudois, "whose bones lie scattered on the cold Alp," or the
+Revocation of the Edict of Nantes?'
+
+The man in black made no answer.
+
+'Go to,' said I; 'it is because the Church of England is not a
+persecuting church, that those whom you call the respectable part
+are leaving her; it is because they can't do with the poor
+Dissenters what Simon de Montfort did with the Albigenses, and the
+cruel Piedmontese with the Vaudois, that they turn to bloody Rome;
+the Pope will no doubt welcome them, for the Pope, do you see,
+being very much in want, will welcome--'
+
+'Hollo!' said the Radical, interfering, 'what are you saying about
+the Pope? I say, hurrah for the Pope; I value no religion three
+halfpence, as I said before, but if I were to adopt any, it should
+be the Popish as it's called, because I conceives the Popish to be
+the grand enemy of the Church of England, of the beggarly
+aristocracy, and the borough-monger system, so I won't hear the
+Pope abused while I am by. Come, don't look fierce. You won't
+fight, you know, I have proved it; but I will give you another
+chance--I will fight for the Pope, will you fight against him?'
+
+'Oh dear me, yes,' said I, getting up and stepping forward. 'I am
+a quiet peaceable young man, and, being so, am always ready to
+fight against the Pope--the enemy of all peace and quiet; to refuse
+fighting for the aristocracy is a widely different thing from
+refusing to fight against the Pope; so come on, if you are disposed
+to fight for him. To the Pope broken bells, to Saint James broken
+shells. No Popish vile oppression, but the Protestant succession.
+Confusion to the Groyne, hurrah for the Boyne, for the army at
+Clonmel, and the Protestant young gentlemen who live there as
+well.'
+
+'An Orangeman,' said the man in black.
+
+'Not a Platitude,' said I.
+
+The man in black gave a slight start.
+
+'Amongst that family,' said I, 'no doubt, something may be done,
+but amongst the Methodist preachers I should conceive that the
+success would not be great.'
+
+The man in black sat quite still.
+
+'Especially amongst those who have wives,' I added.
+
+The man in black stretched his hand towards his gin and water.
+
+'However,' said I, 'we shall see what the grand movement will bring
+about, and the results of the lessons in elocution.'
+
+The man in black lifted the glass up to his mouth, and, in doing
+so, let the spoon fall.
+
+'But what has this to do with the main question?' said I; 'I am
+waiting here to fight against the Pope.'
+
+'Come, Hunter,' said the companion of the man in the snuff coloured
+coat, 'get up, and fight for the Pope.'
+
+'I don't care for the young fellow,' said the man in the snuff-
+coloured coat.
+
+'I know you don't,' said the other, 'so get up, and serve him out.'
+
+'I could serve out three like him,' said the man in the snuff-
+coloured coat.
+
+'So much the better for you,' said the other, 'the present work
+will be all the easier for you, get up, and serve him out at once.'
+
+The man in the snuff-coloured coat did not stir.
+
+'Who shows the white feather now?' said the simple-looking man.
+
+'He! he! he!' tittered the man in black.
+
+'Who told you to interfere?' said the Radical, turning ferociously
+towards the simple-looking man; 'say another word and I'll--' 'And
+you!' said he, addressing himself to the man in black, 'a pretty
+fellow you to turn against me, after I had taken your part. I tell
+you what, you may fight for yourself. I'll see you and your Pope
+in the pit of Eldon before I fight for either of you, so make the
+most of it.'
+
+'Then you won't fight?' said I.
+
+'Not for the Pope,' said the Radical; 'I'll see the Pope--'
+
+'Dear me!' said I, 'not fight for the Pope, whose religion you
+would turn to, if you were inclined for any. I see how it is, you
+are not fond of fighting; but I'll give you another chance--you
+were abusing the Church of England just now: I'll fight for it--
+will you fight against it?'
+
+'Come, Hunter,' said the other, 'get up, and fight against the
+Church of England.'
+
+'I have no particular quarrel against the Church of England,' said
+the man in the snuff-coloured coat, 'my quarrel is with the
+aristocracy. If I said anything against the Church, it was merely
+for a bit of corollary, as Master William Cobbett would say; the
+quarrel with the Church belongs to this fellow in black, so let him
+carry it on. However,' he continued suddenly, 'I won't slink from
+the matter either; it shall never be said by the fine fellows on
+the quay of New York that I wouldn't fight against the Church of
+England. So down with the beggarly aristocracy, the Church, and
+the Pope to the bottom of the pit of Eldon, and may the Pope fall
+first, and the others upon him.'
+
+Thereupon, dashing his hat on the table, he placed himself in an
+attitude of offence and rushed forward. He was, as I have said
+before, a powerful fellow, and might have proved a dangerous
+antagonist, more especially to myself, who, after my recent
+encounter with the Flaming Tinman, and my wrestlings with the evil
+one, was in anything but fighting order. Any collision, however,
+was prevented by the landlord, who, suddenly appearing, thrust
+himself between us. 'There shall be no fighting here,' said he;
+'no one shall fight in this house, except it be with myself; so if
+you two have anything to say to each other, you had better go into
+the field behind the house. But, you fool,' said he, pushing
+Hunter violently on the breast, 'do you know whom you are going to
+tackle with?--this is the young chap that beat Blazing Bosville,
+only as late as yesterday, in Mumpers' Dingle. Grey Moll told me
+all about it last night, when she came for some brandy for her
+husband, who, she said, had been half killed; and she described the
+young man to me so closely that I knew him at once, that is, as
+soon as I saw how his left hand was bruised, for she told me he was
+a left-hand hitter. Aren't it all true, young man? Aren't you he
+that beat Flaming Bosville, in Mumpers' Dingle?' 'I never beat
+Flaming Bosville,' said I, 'he beat himself. Had he not struck his
+hand against a tree, I shouldn't be here at the present moment.'
+'Hear, hear!' said the landlord, 'now that's just as it should be;
+I like a modest man, for, as the parson says, nothing sits better
+upon a young man than modesty. I remember, when I was young,
+fighting with Tom of Hopton, the best man that ever pulled off coat
+in England. I remember, too, that I won the battle; for I happened
+to hit Tom of Hopton in the mark, as he was coming in, so that he
+lost his wind, and falling squelch on the ground, do ye see, he
+lost the battle, though I am free to confess that he was a better
+man than myself; indeed, the best man that ever fought in England;
+yet still, I won the battle, as every customer of mine, and
+everybody within twelve miles round, has heard over and over again.
+Now, Mr. Hunter, I have one thing to say, if you choose to go into
+the field behind the house, and fight the young man, you can. I'll
+back him for ten pounds; but no fighting in my kitchen--because
+why? I keeps a decent kind of an establishment.'
+
+'I have no wish to fight the young man,' said Hunter; 'more
+especially as he has nothing to say for the aristocracy. If he
+chose to fight for them, indeed--but he won't, I know; for I see
+he's a decent, respectable young man; and, after all, fighting is a
+blackguard way of settling a dispute; so I have no wish to fight;
+however, there is one thing I'll do,' said he, uplifting his fist,
+'I'll fight this fellow in black here for half a crown, or for
+nothing, if he pleases; it was he that got up the last dispute
+between me and the young man, with his Pope and his nonsense; so I
+will fight him for anything he pleases, and perhaps the young man
+will be my second; whilst you--'
+
+'Come, Doctor,' said the landlord, 'or whatsoever you be, will you
+go into the field with Hunter? I'll second you, only you must back
+yourself. I'll lay five pounds on Hunter, if you are inclined to
+back yourself; and will help you to win it as far, do you see, as a
+second can; because why? I always likes to do the fair thing.'
+
+'Oh, I have no wish to fight,' said the man in black, hastily;
+'fighting is not my trade. If I have given any offence, I beg
+anybody's pardon.'
+
+'Landlord,' said I, 'what have I to pay?
+
+'Nothing at all,' said the landlord; 'glad to see you. This is the
+first time that you have been at my house, and I never charge new
+customers, at least customers such as you, anything for the first
+draught. You'll come again, I daresay; shall always be glad to see
+you. I won't take it,' said he, as I put sixpence on the table; 'I
+won't take it.'
+
+'Yes, you shall,' said I; 'but not in payment for anything I have
+had myself: it shall serve to pay for a jug of ale for that
+gentleman,' said I, pointing to the simple-looking individual; 'he
+is smoking a poor pipe. I do not mean to say that a pipe is a bad
+thing; but a pipe without ale, do you see--'
+
+'Bravo!' said the landlord, 'that's just the conduct I like.'
+
+'Bravo!' said Hunter. 'I shall be happy to drink with the young
+man whenever I meet him at New York, where, do you see, things are
+better managed than here.'
+
+'If I have given offence to anybody,' said the man in black, 'I
+repeat that I ask pardon,--more especially to the young gentleman,
+who was perfectly right to stand up for his religion, just as I--
+not that I am of any particular religion, no more than this honest
+gentleman here,' bowing to Hunter; 'but I happen to know something
+of the Catholics--several excellent friends of mine are Catholics--
+and of a surety the Catholic religion is an ancient religion, and a
+widely-extended religion, though it certainly is not a universal
+religion, but it has of late made considerable progress, even
+amongst those nations who have been particularly opposed to it--
+amongst the Prussians and the Dutch, for example, to say nothing of
+the English; and then, in the East, amongst the Persians, amongst
+the Armenians.'
+
+'The Armenians,' said I; 'oh dear me, the Armenians--'
+
+'Have you anything to say about those people, sir?' said the man in
+black, lifting up his glass to his mouth.
+
+'I have nothing further to say,' said I, 'than that the roots of
+Ararat are occasionally found to be deeper than those of Rome.'
+
+'There's half-a-crown broke,' said the landlord, as the man in
+black let fall the glass, which was broken to pieces on the floor.
+'You will pay me the damage, friend, before you leave this kitchen.
+I like to see people drink freely in my kitchen, but not too
+freely, and I hate breakages; because why? I keeps a decent kind
+of an establishment.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXXXIX
+
+
+
+The dingle--Give them ale--Not over complimentary--America--Many
+people--Washington--Promiscuous company--Language of the roads--The
+old women--Numerals--The man in black.
+
+The public-house where the scenes which I have attempted to
+describe in the preceding chapters took place, was at the distance
+of about two miles from the dingle. The sun was sinking in the
+west by the time I returned to the latter spot. I found Belle
+seated by a fire, over which her kettle was suspended. During my
+absence she had prepared herself a kind of tent, consisting of
+large hoops covered over with tarpaulins, quite impenetrable to
+rain, however violent. 'I am glad you are returned,' said she, as
+soon as she perceived me; 'I began to be anxious about you. Did
+you take my advice?'
+
+'Yes,' said I; 'I went to the public-house and drank ale, as you
+advised me; it cheered, strengthened, and drove away the horror
+from my mind--I am much beholden to you.'
+
+'I knew it would do you good,' said Belle; 'I remembered that when
+the poor women in the great house were afflicted with hysterics,
+and fearful imaginings, the surgeon, who was a good kind man, used
+to say, "Ale, give them ale, and let it be strong."'
+
+'He was no advocate for tea, then?' said I.
+
+'He had no objection to tea; but he used to say, "Everything in its
+season." Shall we take ours now?--I have waited for you.'
+
+'I have no objection,' said I; 'I feel rather heated, and at
+present should prefer tea to ale--"Everything in its season," as
+the surgeon said.'
+
+Thereupon Belle prepared tea, and, as we were taking it, she said--
+'What did you see and hear at the public-house?'
+
+'Really,' said I, 'you appear to have your full portion of
+curiosity; what matters it to you what I saw and heard at the
+public-house?'
+
+'It matters very little to me,' said Belle; 'I merely inquired of
+you, for the sake of a little conversation--you were silent, and it
+is uncomfortable for two people to sit together without opening
+their lips--at least I think so.'
+
+'One only feels uncomfortable,' said I, 'in being silent, when one
+happens to be thinking of the individual with whom one is in
+company. To tell you the truth, I was not thinking of my
+companion, but of certain company with whom I had been at the
+public-house.'
+
+'Really, young man,' said Belle, 'you are not over complimentary;
+but who may this wonderful company have been--some young--?' and
+here Belle stopped.
+
+'No,' said I, 'there was no young person--if person you were going
+to say. There was a big portly landlord, whom I daresay you have
+seen; a noisy savage Radical, who wanted at first to fasten upon me
+a quarrel about America, but who subsequently drew in his horns;
+then there was a strange fellow, a prowling priest, I believe, whom
+I have frequently heard of, who at first seemed disposed to side
+with the Radical against me, and afterwards with me against the
+Radical. There, you know my company, and what took place.'
+
+'Was there no one else?' said Belle.
+
+'You are mighty curious,' said I. 'No, none else, except a poor
+simple mechanic, and some common company, who soon went away.'
+
+Belle looked at me for a moment, and then appeared to be lost in
+thought--'America!' said she, musingly--'America!'
+
+'What of America?' said I.
+
+'I have heard that it is a mighty country.'
+
+'I daresay it is,' said I; 'I have heard my father say that the
+Americans are first-rate marksmen.'
+
+'I heard nothing about that,' said Belle; 'what I heard was, that
+it is a great and goodly land, where people can walk about without
+jostling, and where the industrious can always find bread; I have
+frequently thought of going thither.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'the Radical in the public-house will perhaps be
+glad of your company thither; he is as great an admirer of America
+as yourself, though I believe on different grounds.'
+
+'I shall go by myself,' said Belle, 'unless--unless that should
+happen which is not likely--I am not fond of Radicals no more than
+I am of scoffers and mockers.'
+
+'Do you mean to say that I am a scoffer and mocker?'
+
+'I don't wish to say you are,' said Belle; 'but some of your words
+sound strangely like scoffing and mocking. I have now one thing to
+beg, which is, that if you have anything to say against America,
+you would speak it out boldly.'
+
+'What should I have to say against America? I never was there.'
+
+'Many people speak against America who never were there.'
+
+'Many people speak in praise of America who never were there; but
+with respect to myself, I have not spoken for or against America.'
+
+'If you liked America you would speak in its praise.'
+
+'By the same rule, if I disliked America I should speak against
+it.'
+
+'I can't speak with you,' said Belle; 'but I see you dislike the
+country.'
+
+'The country!'
+
+'Well, the people--don't you?'
+
+'I do.'
+
+'Why do you dislike them?'
+
+'Why, I have heard my father say that the American marksmen, led on
+by a chap of the name of Washington, sent the English to the right-
+about in double-quick time.'
+
+'And that is your reason for disliking the Americans?'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'that is my reason for disliking them.'
+
+'Will you take another cup of tea?' said Belle.
+
+I took another cup; we were again silent. 'It is rather
+uncomfortable,' said I, at last, 'for people to sit together
+without having anything to say.'
+
+'Were you thinking of your company?' said Belle.
+
+'What company?' said I.
+
+'The present company.'
+
+'The present company! oh, ah--I remember that I said one only feels
+uncomfortable in being silent with a companion, when one happens to
+be thinking of the companion. Well, I had been thinking of you the
+last two or three minutes, and had just come to the conclusion
+that, to prevent us both feeling occasionally uncomfortably towards
+each other, having nothing to say, it would be as well to have a
+standing subject on which to employ our tongues. Belle, I have
+determined to give you lessons in Armenian.'
+
+'What is Armenian?'
+
+'Did you ever hear of Ararat?'
+
+'Yes, that was the place where the ark rested; I have heard the
+chaplain in the great house talk of it; besides, I have read of it
+in the Bible.'
+
+'Well, Armenian is the speech of people of that place, and I should
+like to teach it you.'
+
+'To prevent--'
+
+'Ay, ay, to prevent our occasionally feeling uncomfortable
+together. Your acquiring it besides might prove of ulterior
+advantage to us both; for example, suppose you and I were in
+promiscuous company, at Court, for example, and you had something
+to communicate to me which you did not wish any one else to be
+acquainted with, how safely you might communicate it to me in
+Armenian.'
+
+'Would not the language of the roads do as well?' said Belle.
+
+'In some places it would,' said I, 'but not at Court, owing to its
+resemblance to thieves' slang. There is Hebrew, again, which I was
+thinking of teaching you, till the idea of being presented at Court
+made me abandon it, from the probability of our being understood,
+in the event of our speaking it, by at least half a dozen people in
+our vicinity. There is Latin, it is true, or Greek, which we might
+speak aloud at Court with perfect confidence of safety, but upon
+the whole I should prefer teaching you Armenian, not because it
+would be a safer language to hold communication with at Court, but
+because, not being very well grounded in it myself, I am
+apprehensive that its words and forms may escape from my
+recollection, unless I have sometimes occasion to call them forth.'
+
+'I am afraid we shall have to part company before I have learnt
+it,' said Belle; 'in the meantime, if I wish to say anything to you
+in private, somebody being by, shall I speak in the language of the
+roads?'
+
+'If no roadster is nigh you may,' said I, 'and I will do my best to
+understand you. Belle, I will now give you a lesson in Armenian.'
+
+'I suppose you mean no harm,' said Belle.
+
+'Not in the least; I merely propose the thing to prevent our
+occasionally feeling uncomfortable together. Let us begin.'
+
+'Stop till I have removed the tea things,' said Belle; and, getting
+up, she removed them to her own encampment.
+
+'I am ready,' said Belle, returning, and taking her former seat,
+'to join with you in anything which will serve to pass away the
+time agreeably, provided there is no harm in it.'
+
+'Belle,' said I, 'I have determined to commence the course of
+Armenian lessons by teaching you the numerals; but, before I do
+that, it will be as well to tell you that the Armenian language is
+called Haik.'
+
+'I am sure that word will hang upon my memory,' said Belle.
+
+'Why hang upon it?' said I.
+
+'Because the old women in the great house used to call so the
+chimney-hook, on which they hung the kettle; in like manner, on the
+hake of my memory I will hang your hake.'
+
+'Good!' said I, 'you will make an apt scholar; but mind that I did
+not say hake, but haik; the words are, however, very much alike;
+and, as you observe, upon your hake you may hang my haik. We will
+now proceed to the numerals.'
+
+'What are numerals?' said Belle.
+
+'Numbers. I will say the Haikan numbers up to ten. There--have
+you heard them?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Well, try and repeat them.'
+
+'I only remember number one,' said Belle, 'and that because it is
+me.'
+
+' I will repeat them again,' said I, 'and pay greater attention.
+Now, try again.'
+
+'Me, jergo, earache.'
+
+'I neither said jergo nor earache. I said yergou and yerek.
+Belle, I am afraid I shall have some difficulty with you as a
+scholar.'
+
+Belle made no answer. Her eyes were turned in the direction of the
+winding path which led from the bottom of the hollow, where we were
+seated, to the plain above. 'Gorgio shunella,' she said at length,
+in a low voice.
+
+'Pure Rommany,' said I; 'where?' I added, in a whisper.
+
+'Dovey odoi,' said Belle, nodding with her head towards the path.
+
+'I will soon see who it is,' said I; and starting up, I rushed
+towards the pathway, intending to lay violent hands on any one I
+might find lurking in its windings. Before, however, I had reached
+its commencement, a man, somewhat above the middle height, advanced
+from it into the dingle, in whom I recognised the man in black whom
+I had seen in the public-house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XC
+
+
+
+Buona sera--Rather apprehensive--The steep bank--Lovely virgin--
+Hospitality--Tory minister--Custom of the country--Sneering smile--
+Wandering Zigan--Gypsies' cloaks--Certain faculty--Acute answer--
+Various ways--Addio--Best Hollands.
+
+The man in black and myself stood opposite to each other for a
+minute or two in silence; I will not say that we confronted each
+other that time, for the man in black, after a furtive glance, did
+not look me in the face, but kept his eyes fixed apparently on the
+leaves of a bunch of ground-nuts which were growing at my feet. At
+length, looking around the dingle, he exclaimed, 'Buona sera, I
+hope I don't intrude.'
+
+'You have as much right here,' said I, 'as I or my companion; but
+you had no right to stand listening to our conversation.'
+
+'I was not listening,' said the man, 'I was hesitating whether to
+advance or retire; and if I heard some of your conversation, the
+fault was not mine.'
+
+'I do not see why you should have hesitated if your intentions were
+good,' said I.
+
+'I think the kind of place in which I found myself might excuse
+some hesitation,' said the man in black, looking around; 'moreover,
+from what I had seen of your demeanour at the public-house, I was
+rather apprehensive that the reception I might experience at your
+hands might be more rough than agreeable.'
+
+'And what may have been your motive for coming to this place?' said
+I.
+
+'Per far visita a sua signoria, ecco il motivo.'
+
+'Why do you speak to me in that gibberish,' said I; 'do you think I
+understand it?'
+
+'It is not Armenian,' said the man in black; 'but it might serve,
+in a place like this, for the breathing of a little secret
+communication, were any common roadster near at hand. It would not
+do at Court, it is true, being the language of singing women, and
+the like; but we are not at Court--when we are, I can perhaps
+summon up a little indifferent Latin, if I have anything private to
+communicate to the learned Professor.'
+
+And at the conclusion of this speech the man in black lifted up his
+head, and, for some moments, looked me in the face. The muscles of
+his own seemed to be slightly convulsed, and his mouth opened in a
+singular manner
+
+'I see,' said I, 'that for some time you were standing near me and
+my companion, in the mean act of listening.'
+
+'Not at all,' said the man in black; 'I heard from the steep bank
+above, that to which I have now alluded, whilst I was puzzling
+myself to find the path which leads to your retreat. I made,
+indeed, nearly the compass of the whole thicket before I found it.'
+
+'And how did you know that I was here?' I demanded.
+
+'The landlord of the public-house, with whom I had some
+conversation concerning you, informed me that he had no doubt I
+should find you in this place, to which he gave me instructions not
+very clear. But, now I am here, I crave permission to remain a
+little time, in order that I may hold some communion with you.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'since you are come, you are welcome; please to
+step this way.'
+
+Thereupon I conducted the man in black to the fireplace, where
+Belle was standing, who had risen from her stool on my springing up
+to go in quest of the stranger. The man in black looked at her
+with evident curiosity, then making her rather a graceful bow,
+'Lovely virgin,' said he, stretching out his hand, 'allow me to
+salute your fingers.'
+
+'I am not in the habit of shaking hands with strangers,' said
+Belle.
+
+'I did not presume to request to shake hands with you,' said the
+man in black, 'I merely wished to be permitted to salute with my
+lips the extremity of your two forefingers.'
+
+'I never permit anything of the kind,' said Belle; ' I do not
+approve of such unmanly ways, they are only befitting those who
+lurk in corners or behind trees, listening to the conversation of
+people who would fain be private.'
+
+'Do you take me for a listener then?' said the man in black.
+
+'Ay, indeed I do,' said Belle; 'the young man may receive your
+excuses, and put confidence in them, if he please, but for my part
+I neither admit them nor believe them;' and thereupon flinging her
+long hair back, which was hanging over her cheeks, she seated
+herself on her stool.
+
+'Come, Belle,' said I, 'I have bidden the gentleman welcome, I
+beseech you, therefore, to make him welcome; he is a stranger,
+where we are at home, therefore, even did we wish him away, we are
+bound to treat him kindly.'
+
+'That's not English doctrine,' said the man in black.
+
+'I thought the English prided themselves on their hospitality,'
+said I.
+
+'They do so,' said the man in black; 'they are proud of showing
+hospitality to people above them, that is, to those who do not want
+it, but of the hospitality which you were now describing, and which
+is Arabian, they know nothing. No Englishman will tolerate another
+in his house, from whom he does not expect advantage of some kind,
+and to those from whom he does he can be civil enough. An
+Englishman thinks that, because he is in his own house, he has a
+right to be boorish and brutal to any one who is disagreeable to
+him, as all those are who are really in want of assistance. Should
+a hunted fugitive rush into an Englishman's house, beseeching
+protection, and appealing to the master's feelings of hospitality,
+the Englishman would knock him down in the passage.'
+
+'You are too general,' said I, 'in your strictures. Lord -, the
+unpopular Tory minister, was once chased through the streets of
+London by a mob, and, being in danger of his life, took shelter in
+the shop of a Whig linen-draper, declaring his own unpopular name,
+and appealing to the linen-draper's feelings of hospitality;
+whereupon the linen-draper, utterly forgetful of all party rancour,
+nobly responded to the appeal, and telling his wife to conduct his
+lordship upstairs, jumped over the counter, with his ell in his
+hand, and placing himself with half-a-dozen of his assistants at
+the door of his boutique, manfully confronted the mob, telling them
+that he would allow himself to be torn to a thousand pieces ere he
+would permit them to injure a hair of his lordship's head: what do
+you think of that?'
+
+'He! he! he!' tittered the man in black.
+
+'Well,' said I, 'I am afraid your own practice is not very
+different from that which you have been just now describing; you
+sided with the Radical in the public-house against me, as long as
+you thought him the most powerful, and then turned against him when
+you saw he was cowed. What have you to say to that?'
+
+'Oh, when one is in Rome, I mean England, one must do as they do in
+England; I was merely conforming to the custom of the country, he!
+he! but I beg your pardon here, as I did in the public-house. I
+made a mistake.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'we will drop the matter, but pray seat yourself on
+that stone, and I will sit down on the grass near you.'
+
+The man in black, after proffering two or three excuses for
+occupying what he supposed to be my seat, sat down upon the stone,
+and I squatted down, gypsy-fashion, just opposite to him, Belle
+sitting on her stool at a slight distance on my right. After a
+time I addressed him thus: 'Am I to reckon this a mere visit of
+ceremony? should it prove so, it will be, I believe, the first
+visit of the kind ever paid me.'
+
+'Will you permit me to ask,' said the man in black--'the weather is
+very warm,' said he, interrupting himself, and taking off his hat.
+
+I now observed that he was partly bald, his red hair having died
+away from the fore part of his crown--his forehead was high, his
+eyebrows scanty, his eyes gray and sly, with a downward tendency,
+his nose was slightly aquiline, his mouth rather large--a kind of
+sneering smile played continually on his lips, his complexion was
+somewhat rubicund.
+
+'A bad countenance,' said Belle, in the language of the roads,
+observing that my eyes were fixed on his face.
+
+'Does not my countenance please you, fair damsel?' said the man in
+black, resuming his hat, and speaking in a peculiarly gentle voice.
+
+'How,' said I, 'do you understand the language of the roads?'
+
+'As little as I do Armenian,' said the man in black; 'but I
+understand look and tone.'
+
+'So do I, perhaps,' retorted Belle; 'and, to tell you the truth, I
+like your tone as little as your face.'
+
+'For shame,' said I; 'have you forgot what I was saying just now
+about the duties of hospitality? You have not yet answered my
+question,' said I, addressing myself to the man, 'with respect to
+your visit.'
+
+'Will you permit me to ask who you are?'
+
+'Do you see the place where I live?' said I.
+
+'I do,' said the man in black, looking around.
+
+'Do you know the name of this place?'
+
+'I was told it was Mumpers' or Gypsies' Dingle,' said the man in
+black.
+
+'Good,' said I; 'and this forge and tent, what do they look like?'
+
+'Like the forge and tent of a wandering Zigan; I have seen the like
+in Italy.'
+
+'Good,' said I; 'they belong to me.'
+
+'Are you, then, a gypsy?' said the man in black.
+
+'What else should I be?'
+
+'But you seem to have been acquainted with various individuals with
+whom I have likewise had acquaintance; and you have even alluded to
+matters, and even words, which have passed between me and them.'
+
+'Do you know how gypsies live?' said I.
+
+'By hammering old iron, I believe, and telling fortunes.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'there's my forge, and yonder is some iron, though
+not old, and by your own confession I am a soothsayer.'
+
+'But how did you come by your knowledge?'
+
+'Oh,' said I, 'if you want me to reveal the secrets of my trade, I
+have, of course, nothing further to say. Go to the scarlet dyer,
+and ask him how he dyes cloth.'
+
+'Why scarlet?' said the man in black. 'Is it because gypsies blush
+like scarlet?'
+
+'Gypsies never blush,' said I; 'but gypsies' cloaks are scarlet.'
+
+'I should almost take you for a gypsy,' said the man in black, 'but
+for--'
+
+'For what?' said I.
+
+'But for that same lesson in Armenian, and your general knowledge
+of languages; as for your manners and appearance I will say
+nothing,' said the man in black, with a titter.
+
+'And why should not a gypsy possess a knowledge of languages?' said
+I.
+
+'Because the gypsy race is perfectly illiterate,' said the man in
+black; 'they are possessed, it is true, of a knavish acuteness, and
+are particularly noted for giving subtle and evasive answers--and
+in your answers, I confess, you remind me of them; but that one of
+the race should acquire a learned language like the Armenian, and
+have a general knowledge of literature, is a thing che io non credo
+afatto.'
+
+'What do you take me for?' said I.
+
+'Why,' said the man in black, 'I should consider you to be a
+philologist, who, for some purpose, has taken up a gypsy life; but
+I confess to you that your way of answering questions is far too
+acute for a philologist.'
+
+'And why should not a philologist be able to answer questions
+acutely?' said I.
+
+'Because the philological race is the most stupid under heaven,'
+said the man in black; 'they are possessed, it is true, of a
+certain faculty for picking up words, and a memory for retaining
+them; but that any one of the sect should be able to give a
+rational answer, to say nothing of an acute one, on any subject--
+even though the subject were philology--is a thing of which I have
+no idea.'
+
+'But you found me giving a lesson in Armenian to this handmaid?'
+
+'I believe I did,' said the man in black.
+
+'And you heard me give what you are disposed to call acute answers
+to the questions you asked me?'
+
+'I believe I did,' said the man in black.
+
+'And would any one but a philologist think of giving a lesson in
+Armenian to a handmaid in a dingle?
+
+'I should think not,' said the man in black.
+
+'Well, then, don't you see that it is possible for a philologist to
+give not only a rational, but an acute answer?'
+
+'I really don't know,' said the man in black.
+
+'What's the matter with you?' said I.
+
+'Merely puzzled,' said the man in black.
+
+'Puzzled?
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Really puzzled?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Remain so.'
+
+'Well,' said the man in black, rising, 'puzzled or not, I will no
+longer trespass upon your and this young lady's retirement; only
+allow me, before I go, to apologise for my intrusion.'
+
+'No apology is necessary,' said I; 'will you please to take
+anything before you go? I think this young lady, at my request,
+would contrive to make you a cup of tea.'
+
+'Tea!' said the man in black; 'he! he! I don't drink tea; I don't
+like it--if, indeed, you had,' and here he stopped.
+
+'There's nothing like gin and water, is there?' said I, 'but I am
+sorry to say I have none.'
+
+'Gin and water,' said the man in black, 'how do you know that I am
+fond of gin and water?'
+
+'Did I not see you drinking some at the public-house?'
+
+'You did,' said the man in black, 'and I remember that, when I
+called for some you repeated my words--permit me to ask, is gin and
+water an unusual drink in England?'
+
+'It is not usually drunk cold, and with a lump of sugar,' said I.
+
+'And did you know who I was by my calling for it so?'
+
+'Gypsies have various ways of obtaining information,' said I.
+
+'With all your knowledge,' said the man in black, 'you do not
+appear to have known that I was coming to visit you?'
+
+'Gypsies do not pretend to know anything which relates to
+themselves,' said I; 'but I advise you, if you ever come again, to
+come openly.'
+
+'Have I your permission to come again?' said the man in black.
+
+'Come when you please; this dingle is as free for you as me.'
+
+'I will visit you again,' said the man in black--'till then,
+addio.'
+
+'Belle,' said I, after the man in black had departed, 'we did not
+treat that man very hospitably; he left us without having eaten or
+drunk at our expense.'
+
+'You offered him some tea,' said Belle, 'which, as it is mine, I
+should have grudged him, for I like him not.'
+
+'Our liking or disliking him had nothing to do with the matter, he
+was our visitor, and ought not to have been permitted to depart
+dry; living as we do in this desert, we ought always to be prepared
+to administer to the wants of our visitors. Belle, do you know
+where to procure any good Hollands?'
+
+'I think I do,' said Belle, 'but--'
+
+'I will have no buts. Belle, I expect that with as little delay as
+possible you procure, at my expense, the best Hollands you can
+find.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XCI
+
+
+
+Excursions--Adventurous English--Opaque forests--The greatest
+patience.
+
+Time passed on, and Belle and I lived in the dingle; when I say
+lived, the reader must not imagine that we were always there. She
+went out upon her pursuits, and I went out where inclination led
+me; but my excursions were very short ones, and hers occasionally
+occupied whole days and nights. If I am asked how we passed the
+time when we were together in the dingle, I would answer that we
+passed the time very tolerably, all things considered; we conversed
+together, and when tired of conversing I would sometimes give Belle
+a lesson in Armenian; her progress was not particularly brilliant,
+but upon the whole satisfactory; in about a fortnight she had hung
+up one hundred Haikan numerals upon the hake of her memory. I
+found her conversation highly entertaining; she had seen much of
+England and Wales, and had been acquainted with some of the most
+remarkable characters who travelled the roads at that period; and
+let me be permitted to say that many remarkable characters have
+travelled the roads of England, of whom fame has never said a word.
+I loved to hear her anecdotes of these people; some of whom I found
+had occasionally attempted to lay violent hands either upon her
+person or effects, and had invariably been humbled by her without
+the assistance of either justice or constable. I could clearly
+see, however, that she was rather tired of England, and wished for
+a change of scene; she was particularly fond of talking of America,
+to which country her aspirations chiefly tended. She had heard
+much of America, which had excited her imagination; for at that
+time America was much talked of, on roads and in homesteads--at
+least, so said Belle, who had good opportunities of knowing--and
+most people allowed that it was a good country for adventurous
+English. The people who chiefly spoke against it, as she informed
+me, were soldiers disbanded upon pensions, the sextons of village
+churches, and excisemen. Belle had a craving desire to visit that
+country, and to wander with cart and little animal amongst its
+forests; when I would occasionally object that she would be exposed
+to danger from strange and perverse customers, she said that she
+had not wandered the roads of England so long and alone, to be
+afraid of anything which might befall in America; and that she
+hoped, with God's favour, to be able to take her own part, and to
+give to perverse customers as good as they might bring. She had a
+dauntless heart, that same Belle. Such was the staple of Belle's
+conversation. As for mine, I would endeavour to entertain her with
+strange dreams of adventure, in which I figured in opaque forests,
+strangling wild beasts, or discovering and plundering the hoards of
+dragons; and sometimes I would narrate to her other things far more
+genuine--how I had tamed savage mares, wrestled with Satan, and had
+dealings with ferocious publishers. Belle had a kind heart, and
+would weep at the accounts I gave her of my early wrestlings with
+the dark Monarch. She would sigh, too, as I recounted the many
+slights and degradations I had received at the hands of ferocious
+publishers; but she had the curiosity of a woman; and once, when I
+talked to her of the triumphs which I had achieved over unbroken
+mares, she lifted up her head and questioned me as to the secret of
+the virtue which I possessed over the aforesaid animals; whereupon
+I sternly reprimanded, and forthwith commanded her to repeat the
+Armenian numerals; and, on her demurring, I made use of words, to
+escape which she was glad to comply, saying the Armenian numerals
+from one to a hundred, which numerals, as a punishment for her
+curiosity, I made her repeat three times, loading her with the
+bitterest reproaches whenever she committed the slightest error,
+either in accent or pronunciation, which reproaches she appeared to
+bear with the greatest patience. And now I have given a very fair
+account of the manner in which Isopel Berners and myself passed our
+time in the dingle.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XCII
+
+
+
+The landlord--Rather too old--Without a shilling--Reputation--A
+fortnight ago--Liquids--The main chance--Respectability--Irrational
+beings--Parliament cove--My brewer.
+
+Amongst other excursions, I went several times to the public-house
+to which I introduced the reader in a former chapter. I had
+experienced such beneficial effects from the ale I had drunk on
+that occasion, that I wished to put its virtue to a frequent test;
+nor did the ale on subsequent trials belie the good opinion which I
+had at first formed of it. After each visit which I made to the
+public-house, I found my frame stronger and my mind more cheerful
+than they had previously been. The landlord appeared at all times
+glad to see me, and insisted that I should sit within the bar,
+where, leaving his other guests to be attended to by a niece of
+his, who officiated as his housekeeper, he would sit beside me and
+talk of matters concerning 'the ring,' indulging himself with a
+cigar and a glass of sherry, which he told me was his favourite
+wine, whilst I drank my ale. 'I loves the conversation of all you
+coves of the ring,' said he once, 'which is natural, seeing as how
+I have fought in a ring myself. Ah, there is nothing like the
+ring; I wish I was not rather too old to go again into it. I often
+think I should like to have another rally--one more rally, and
+then--but there's a time for all things--youth will be served,
+every dog has his day, and mine has been a fine one--let me be
+content. After beating Tom of Hopton, there was not much more to
+be done in the way of reputation; I have long sat in my bar the
+wonder and glory of this here neighbourhood. I'm content, as far
+as reputation goes; I only wish money would come in a little
+faster; however, the next main of cocks will bring me in something
+handsome--comes off next Wednesday, at -; have ventured ten five-
+pound notes--shouldn't say ventured either--run no risk at all,
+because why? I knows my birds.' About ten days after this
+harangue I called again, at about three o'clock one afternoon. The
+landlord was seated on a bench by a table in the common room, which
+was entirely empty; he was neither smoking nor drinking, but sat
+with his arms folded, and his head hanging down over his breast.
+At the sound of my step he looked up; 'Ah,' said he, 'I am glad you
+are come, I was just thinking about you.' 'Thank you,' said I; 'it
+was very kind of you, especially at a time like this, when your
+mind must be full of your good fortune. Allow me to congratulate
+you on the sums of money you won by the main of cocks at -. I hope
+you brought it all safe home.' 'Safe home!' said the landlord; 'I
+brought myself safe home, and that was all; came home without a
+shilling, regularly done, cleaned out.' 'I am sorry for that,'
+said I; 'but after you had won the money, you ought to have been
+satisfied, and not risked it again--how did you lose it? I hope
+not by the pea and thimble.' 'Pea and thimble,' said the landlord-
+-'not I; those confounded cocks left me nothing to lose by the pea
+and thimble.' 'Dear me,' said I; 'I thought that you knew your
+birds.' 'Well, so I did,' said the landlord; 'I knew the birds to
+be good birds, and so they proved, and would have won if better
+birds had not been brought against them, of which I knew nothing,
+and so do you see I am done, regularly done.' 'Well,' said I,
+'don't be cast down; there is one thing of which the cocks by their
+misfortune cannot deprive you--your reputation; make the most of
+that, give up cock-fighting, and be content with the custom of your
+house, of which you will always have plenty, as long as you are the
+wonder and glory of the neighbourhood.'
+
+The landlord struck the table before him violently with his fist.
+'Confound my reputation!' said he. 'No reputation that I have will
+be satisfaction to my brewer for the seventy pounds I owe him.
+Reputation won't pass for the current coin of this here realm; and
+let me tell you, that if it ain't backed by some of it, it ain't a
+bit better than rotten cabbage, as I have found. Only three weeks
+since I was, as I told you, the wonder and glory of the
+neighbourhood; and people used to come to look at me, and worship
+me; but as soon as it began to be whispered about that I owed money
+to the brewer, they presently left off all that kind of thing; and
+now, during the last three days, since the tale of my misfortune
+with the cocks has got wind, almost everybody has left off coming
+to the house, and the few who does, merely comes to insult and
+flout me. It was only last night that fellow, Hunter, called me an
+old fool in my own kitchen here. He wouldn't have called me a fool
+a fortnight ago; 'twas I called him fool then, and last night he
+called me old fool; what do you think of that?--the man that beat
+Tom of Hopton, to be called, not only a fool, but an old fool; and
+I hadn't heart, with one blow of this here fist into his face, to
+send his head ringing against the wall; for when a man's pocket is
+low, do you see, his heart ain't much higher; but it is of no use
+talking, something must be done. I was thinking of you just as you
+came in, for you are just the person that can help me.'
+
+'If you mean,' said I, 'to ask me to lend you the money which you
+want, it will be to no purpose, as I have very little of my own,
+just enough for my own occasions; it is true, if you desired it, I
+would be your intercessor with the person to whom you owe the
+money, though I should hardly imagine that anything I could say--'
+'You are right there,' said the landlord; 'much the brewer would
+care for anything you could say on my behalf--your going would be
+the very way to do me up entirely. A pretty opinion he would have
+of the state of my affairs if I were to send him such a 'cessor as
+you; and as for your lending me money, don't think I was ever fool
+enough to suppose either that you had any, or if you had that you
+would be fool enough to lend me any. No, no, the coves of the ring
+knows better; I have been in the ring myself, and knows what a
+fighting cove is, and though I was fool enough to back those birds,
+I was never quite fool enough to lend anybody money. What I am
+about to propose is something very different from going to my
+landlord, or lending any capital; something which, though it will
+put money into my pocket, will likewise put something handsome into
+your own. I want to get up a fight in this here neighbourhood,
+which would be sure to bring plenty of people to my house, for a
+week before and after it takes place; and as people can't come
+without drinking, I think I could, during one fortnight, get off
+for the brewer all the sour and unsaleable liquids he now has,
+which people wouldn't drink at any other time, and by that means,
+do you see, liquidate my debt; then, by means of betting, making
+first all right, do you see, I have no doubt that I could put
+something handsome into my pocket and yours, for I should wish you
+to be the fighting man, as I think I can depend upon you.' 'You
+really must excuse me,' said I; 'I have no wish to figure as a
+pugilist; besides, there is such a difference in our ages; you may
+be the stronger man of the two, and perhaps the hardest hitter, but
+I am in much better condition, am more active on my legs, so that I
+am almost sure I should have the advantage, for, as you very
+properly observed, "Youth will be served."' 'Oh, I didn't mean to
+fight,' said the landlord; 'I think I could beat you if I were to
+train a little; but in the fight I propose I looks more to the main
+chance than anything else. I question whether half so many people
+could be brought together if you were to fight with me as the
+person I have in view, or whether there would be half such
+opportunities for betting, for I am a man, do you see; the person I
+wants you to fight with is not a man, but the young woman you keeps
+company with.'
+
+'The young woman I keep company with,' said I; 'pray what do you
+mean?'
+
+'We will go into the bar, and have something,' said the landlord,
+getting up. 'My niece is out, and there is no one in the house, so
+we can talk the matter over quietly.' Thereupon I followed him
+into the bar, where, having drawn me a jug of ale, helped himself
+as usual to a glass of sherry, and lighted a cigar, he proceeded to
+explain himself further. 'What I wants is to get up a fight
+between a man and a woman; there never has yet been such a thing in
+the ring, and the mere noise of the matter would bring thousands of
+people together, quite enough to drink out, for the thing should be
+close to my house, all the brewer's stock of liquids, both good and
+bad.' 'But,' said I, 'you were the other day boasting of the
+respectability of your house; do you think that a fight between a
+man and a woman close to your establishment would add to its
+respectability?' 'Confound the respectability of my house,' said
+the landlord; 'will the respectability of my house pay the brewer,
+or keep the roof over my head? No, no! when respectability won't
+keep a man, do you see, the best thing is to let it go and wander.
+Only let me have my own way, and both the brewer, myself, and every
+one of us, will be satisfied. And then the betting--what a deal we
+may make by the betting--and that we shall have all to ourselves,
+you, I, and the young woman; the brewer will have no hand in that.
+I can manage to raise ten pounds, and if by flashing that about I
+don't manage to make a hundred, call me horse.' 'But suppose,'
+said I, 'the party should lose, on whom you sport your money, even
+as the birds did?' 'We must first make all right,' said the
+landlord, 'as I told you before; the birds were irrational beings,
+and therefore couldn't come to an understanding with the others, as
+you and the young woman can. The birds fought fair; but I intend
+that you and the young woman should fight cross.' 'What do you
+mean by cross?' said I. 'Come, come,' said the landlord, 'don't
+attempt to gammon me; you in the ring, and pretend not to know what
+fighting cross is! That won't do, my fine fellow; but as no one is
+near us, I will speak out. I intend that you and the young woman
+should understand one another, and agree beforehand which should be
+beat; and if you take my advice, you will determine between you
+that the young woman shall be beat, as I am sure that the odds will
+run high upon her, her character as a fist-woman being spread far
+and wide, so that all the flats who think it will be all right will
+back her, as I myself would, if I thought it would be a fair
+thing.' 'Then,' said I, 'you would not have us fight fair?' 'By
+no means,' said the landlord, 'because why?--I conceives that a
+cross is a certainty to those who are in it, whereas by the fair
+thing one may lose all he has.' 'But,' said I, 'you said the other
+day that you liked the fair thing.' 'That was by way of gammon,'
+said the landlord; 'just, do you see, as a Parliament cove might
+say, speechifying from a barrel to a set of flats, whom he means to
+sell. Come, what do you think of the plan?'
+
+'It is a very ingenious one,' said I.
+
+'Ain't it?' said the landlord. 'The folks in this neighbourhood
+are beginning to call me old fool; but if they don't call me
+something else, when they sees me friends with the brewer, and
+money in my pocket, my name is not Catchpole. Come, drink your
+ale, and go home to the young gentlewoman.'
+
+'I am going,' said I, rising from my seat, after finishing the
+remainder of the ale.
+
+'Do you think she'll have any objection?' said the landlord.
+
+'To do what?' said I.
+
+'Why, to fight cross.'
+
+'Yes, I do,' said I.
+
+'But you will do your best to persuade her?'
+
+'No, I will not,' said I.
+
+'Are you fool enough to wish to fight fair?'
+
+'No,' said I, 'I am wise enough to wish not to fight at all.'
+
+'And how's my brewer to be paid?' said the landlord.
+
+'I really don't know,' said I.
+
+'I'll change my religion,' said the landlord.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XCIII
+
+
+
+Another visit--A la Margutte--Clever man--Napoleon's estimate--
+Another statue.
+
+One evening Belle and myself received another visit from the man in
+black. After a little conversation of not much importance, I asked
+him whether he would not take some refreshment, assuring him that I
+was now in possession of some very excellent Hollands, which, with
+a glass, a jug of water, and a lump of sugar, was heartily at his
+service; he accepted my offer, and Belle going with a jug to the
+spring, from which she was in the habit of procuring water for tea,
+speedily returned with it full of the clear, delicious water of
+which I have already spoken. Having placed the jug by the side of
+the man in black, she brought him a glass and spoon, and a tea-cup,
+the latter containing various lumps of snowy-white sugar: in the
+meantime I had produced a bottle of the stronger liquid. The man
+in black helped himself to some water, and likewise to some
+Hollands, the proportion of water being about two-thirds; then
+adding a lump of sugar, he stirred the whole up, tasted it, and
+said that it was good.
+
+'This is one of the good things of life,' he added, after a short
+pause.
+
+'What are the others?' I demanded.
+
+'There is Malvoisia sack,' said the man in black, 'and partridge,
+and beccafico.'
+
+'And what do you say to high mass?' said I.
+
+'High mass!' said the man in black; 'however,' he continued, after
+a pause, 'I will be frank with you; I came to be so; I may have
+heard high mass on a time, and said it too; but as for any
+predilection for it, I assure you I have no more than for a long
+High Church sermon.'
+
+'You speak a la Margutte,' said I.
+
+'Margutte!' said the man in black, musingly, 'Margutte!'
+
+'You have read Pulci, I suppose?' said I.
+
+'Yes, yes,' said the man in black, laughing; 'I remember.'
+
+'He might be rendered into English,' said I, 'something in this
+style:
+
+
+'To which Margutte answered with a sneer,
+I like the blue no better than the black,
+My faith consists alone in savoury cheer,
+In roasted capons, and in potent sack;
+But above all, in famous gin and clear,
+Which often lays the Briton on his back;
+With lump of sugar, and with lymph from well,
+I drink it, and defy the fiends of hell.'
+
+
+'He! he! he!' said the man in black; 'that is more than Mezzofante
+could have done for a stanza of Byron.'
+
+'A clever man,' said I.
+
+'Who?' said the man in black.
+
+'Mezzofante di Bologna.'
+
+'He! he! he!' said the man in black; 'now I know that you are not a
+gypsy, at least a soothsayer; no soothsayer would have said that--'
+
+'Why,' said I, 'does he not understand five-and-twenty tongues?'
+
+'Oh yes,' said the man in black; 'and five-and-twenty added to
+them; but, he! he! he! it was principally from him, who is
+certainly the greatest of Philologists, that I formed my opinion of
+the sect.'
+
+'You ought to speak of him with more respect,' said I; 'I have
+heard say that he has done good service to your See.'
+
+'Oh yes,' said the man in black; 'he has done good service to our
+See, that is, in his way; when the neophytes of the Propaganda are
+to be examined in the several tongues in which they are destined to
+preach, he is appointed to question them, the questions being first
+written down for him, or else, he! he! he!--Of course you know
+Napoleon's estimate of Mezzofante; he sent for the linguist from
+motives of curiosity, and after some discourse with him, told him
+that he might depart; then turning to some of his generals he
+observed, "Nous avons eu ici un exemple qu'un homme peut avoir
+beaucoup de paroles avec bien pen d'esprit."'
+
+'You are ungrateful to him,' said I; 'well, perhaps, when he is
+dead and gone you will do him justice.'
+
+'True,' said the man in black; 'when he is dead and gone, we intend
+to erect him a statue of wood, on the left-hand side of the door of
+the Vatican library.'
+
+'Of wood?' said I.
+
+'He was the son of a carpenter, you know,' said the man in black;
+'the figure will be of wood for no other reason, I assure you; he!
+he!'
+
+'You should place another statue on the right.'
+
+'Perhaps we shall,' said the man in black; 'but we know of no one
+amongst the philologists of Italy, nor, indeed, of the other
+countries inhabited by the faithful, worthy to sit parallel in
+effigy with our illustrissimo; when, indeed, we have conquered
+these regions of the perfidious by bringing the inhabitants thereof
+to the true faith, I have no doubt that we shall be able to select
+one worthy to bear him company--one whose statue shall be placed on
+the right hand of the library, in testimony of our joy at his
+conversion; for, as you know, "There is more joy," etc.'
+
+'Wood?' said I.
+
+'I hope not,' said the man in black; 'no, if I be consulted as to
+the material for the statue, I should strongly recommend bronze.'
+
+And when the man in black had said this, he emptied his second
+tumbler of its contents, and prepared himself another.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XCIV
+
+
+
+Prerogative--Feeling of gratitude--A long history--Alliterative
+style--Advantageous specimen--Jesuit benefice--Not sufficient--
+Queen Stork's tragedy--Good sense--Grandeur and gentility--
+Ironmonger's daughter--Clan Mac-Sycophant--Lickspittles--A
+curiosity--Newspaper editors--Charles the Simple--High-flying
+ditty--Dissenters--Lower classes--Priestley's house--Saxon
+ancestors--Austin--Renovating glass--Money--Quite original.
+
+'So you hope to bring these regions again beneath the banner of the
+Roman See?' said I, after the man in black had prepared the
+beverage, and tasted it.
+
+'Hope!' said the man in black; 'how can we fail? Is not the Church
+of these regions going to lose its prerogative?'
+
+'Its prerogative?'
+
+'Yes; those who should be the guardians of the religion of England
+are about to grant Papists emancipation, and to remove the
+disabilities from Dissenters, which will allow the Holy Father to
+play his own game in England.'
+
+On my inquiring how the Holy Father intended to play his game, the
+man in black gave me to understand that he intended for the present
+to cover the land with temples, in which the religion of
+Protestants would be continually scoffed at and reviled.
+
+On my observing that such behaviour would savour strongly of
+ingratitude, the man in black gave me to understand that if I
+entertained the idea that the See of Rome was ever influenced in
+its actions by any feeling of gratitude I was much mistaken,
+assuring me that if the See of Rome in any encounter should chance
+to be disarmed, and its adversary, from a feeling of magnanimity,
+should restore the sword which had been knocked out of its hand,
+the See of Rome always endeavoured on the first opportunity to
+plunge the said sword into its adversary's bosom; conduct which the
+man in black seemed to think was very wise, and which he assured me
+had already enabled it to get rid of a great many troublesome
+adversaries, and would, he had no doubt, enable it to get rid of a
+great many more.
+
+On my attempting to argue against the propriety of such behaviour,
+the man in black cut the matter short by saying that if one party
+was a fool he saw no reason why the other should imitate it in its
+folly.
+
+After musing a little while, I told him that emancipation had not
+yet passed through the legislature, and that perhaps it never
+would; reminding him that there was often many a slip between the
+cup and the lip; to which observation the man in black agreed,
+assuring me, however, that there was no doubt that emancipation
+would be carried, inasmuch as there was a very loud cry at present
+in the land--a cry of 'tolerance,' which had almost frightened the
+Government out of its wits; who, to get rid of the cry, was going
+to grant all that was asked in the way of toleration, instead of
+telling the people to 'hold their nonsense,' and cutting them down
+provided they continued bawling longer.
+
+I questioned the man in black with respect to the origin of this
+cry; but he said, to trace it to its origin would require a long
+history; that, at any rate, such a cry was in existence, the chief
+raisers of it being certain of the nobility, called Whigs, who
+hoped by means of it to get into power, and to turn out certain
+ancient adversaries of theirs called Tories, who were for letting
+things remain in statu quo; that these Whigs were backed by a party
+amongst the people called Radicals, a specimen of whom I had seen
+in the public-house; a set of fellows who were always in the habit
+of bawling against those in place; 'and so,' he added, 'by means of
+these parties, and the hubbub which the Papists and other smaller
+sects are making, a general emancipation will be carried, and the
+Church of England humbled, which is the principal thing which the
+See of Rome cares for.'
+
+On my telling the man in black that I believed that, even among the
+high dignitaries of the English Church, there were many who wished
+to grant perfect freedom to religions of all descriptions, he said
+he was aware that such was the fact, and that such a wish was
+anything but wise, inasmuch as, if they had any regard for the
+religion they professed, they ought to stand by it through thick
+and thin, proclaiming it to be the only true one, and denouncing
+all others, in an alliterative style, as dangerous and damnable;
+whereas, by their present conduct, they were bringing their
+religion into contempt with the people at large, who would never
+continue long attached to a Church the ministers of which did not
+stand up for it, and likewise cause their own brethren, who had a
+clearer notion of things, to be ashamed of belonging to it. 'I
+speak advisedly,' said he, in continuation; 'there is one
+Platitude.'
+
+'And I hope there is only one,' said I; 'you surely would not
+adduce the likes and dislikes of that poor silly fellow as the
+criterions of the opinions of any party?'
+
+'You know him,' said the man in black, 'nay, I heard you mention
+him in the public-house; the fellow is not very wise, I admit, but
+he has sense enough to know that, unless a Church can make people
+hold their tongues when it thinks fit, it is scarcely deserving the
+name of a Church; no, I think that the fellow is not such a very
+bad stick, and that upon the whole he is, or rather was, an
+advantageous specimen of the High Church English clergy, who, for
+the most part, so far from troubling their heads about persecuting
+people, only think of securing their tithes, eating their heavy
+dinners, puffing out their cheeks with importance on country
+justice benches, and occasionally exhibiting their conceited wives,
+hoyden daughters, and gawky sons at country balls, whereas
+Platitude--'
+
+'Stop,' said I; 'you said in the public-house that the Church of
+England was a persecuting Church, and here in the dingle you have
+confessed that one section of it is willing to grant perfect
+freedom to the exercise of all religions, and the other only thinks
+of leading an easy life.'
+
+'Saying a thing in the public-house is a widely different thing
+from saying it in the dingle,' said the man in black; 'had the
+Church of England been a persecuting Church, it would not stand in
+the position in which it stands at present; it might, with its
+opportunities, have spread itself over the greater part of the
+world. I was about to observe that, instead of practising the
+indolent habits of his High Church brethren, Platitude would be
+working for his money, preaching the proper use of fire and faggot,
+or rather of the halter and the whipping-post, encouraging mobs to
+attack the houses of Dissenters, employing spies to collect the
+scandal of neighbourhoods, in order that he might use it for
+sacerdotal purposes, and, in fact, endeavouring to turn an English
+parish into something like a Jesuit benefice in the south of
+France.'
+
+'He tried that game,' said I, 'and the parish said "Pooh, pooh,"
+and, for the most part, went over to the Dissenters.'
+
+'Very true,' said the man in black, taking a sip at his glass, 'but
+why were the Dissenters allowed to preach? why were they not beaten
+on the lips till they spat out blood, with a dislodged tooth or
+two? Why, but because the authority of the Church of England has,
+by its own fault, become so circumscribed that Mr. Platitude was
+not able to send a host of beadles and sbirri to their chapel to
+bring them to reason, on which account Mr. Platitude is very
+properly ashamed of his Church, and is thinking of uniting himself
+with one which possesses more vigour and authority.'
+
+'It may have vigour and authority,' said I, 'in foreign lands, but
+in these kingdoms the day for practising its atrocities is gone by.
+It is at present almost below contempt, and is obliged to sue for
+grace in forma pauperis.'
+
+'Very true,' said the man in black; 'but let it once obtain
+emancipation, and it will cast its slough, put on its fine clothes,
+and make converts by thousands. 'What a fine Church!' they'll say;
+'with what authority it speaks! no doubts, no hesitation, no
+sticking at trifles. What a contrast to the sleepy English Church!
+They'll go over to it by millions, till it preponderates here over
+every other, when it will of course be voted the dominant one; and
+then--and then--' and here the man in black drank a considerable
+quantity of gin and water.
+
+'What then?' said I.
+
+'What then?' said the man in black, 'why she will be true to
+herself. Let Dissenters, whether they be Church of England, as
+perhaps they may still call themselves, Methodist, or Presbyterian,
+presume to grumble, and there shall be bruising of lips in pulpits,
+tying up to whipping-posts, cutting off ears and noses--he! he! the
+farce of King Log has been acted long enough; the time for Queen
+Stork's tragedy is drawing nigh'; and the man in black sipped his
+gin and water in a very exulting manner.
+
+'And this is the Church which, according to your assertion in the
+public-house, never persecutes?'
+
+'I have already given you an answer,' said the man in black. 'With
+respect to the matter of the public-house, it is one of the happy
+privileges of those who belong to my Church to deny in the public-
+house what they admit in the dingle; we have high warranty for such
+double speaking. Did not the foundation stone of our Church, Saint
+Peter, deny in the public-house what he had previously professed in
+the valley?'
+
+'And do you think,' said I, 'that the people of England, who have
+shown aversion to anything in the shape of intolerance, will permit
+such barbarities as you have described?'
+
+'Let them become Papists,' said the man in black; 'only let the
+majority become Papists, and you will see.'
+
+'They will never become so,' said I; 'the good sense of the people
+of England will never permit them to commit such an absurdity.'
+
+'The good sense of the people of England!' said the man in black,
+filling himself another glass.
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'the good sense of not only the upper, but the
+middle and lower classes.'
+
+'And of what description of people are the upper class?' said the
+man in black, putting a lump of sugar into his gin and water.
+
+'Very fine people,' said I, 'monstrously fine people; so, at least,
+they are generally believed to be.'
+
+'He! he!' said the man in black; 'only those think them so who
+don't know them. The male part of the upper class are in youth a
+set of heartless profligates; in old age, a parcel of poor,
+shaking, nervous paillards. The female part, worthy to be the
+sisters and wives of such wretches--unmarried, full of cold vice,
+kept under by vanity and ambition, but which, after marriage, they
+seek not to restrain; in old age, abandoned to vapours and horrors;
+do you think that such beings will afford any obstacle to the
+progress of the Church in these regions, as soon as her movements
+are unfettered?'
+
+'I cannot give an opinion; I know nothing of them, except from a
+distance. But what think you of the middle classes?'
+
+'Their chief characteristic,' said the man in black, 'is a rage for
+grandeur and gentility; and that same rage makes us quite sure of
+them in the long run. Everything that's lofty meets their
+unqualified approbation; whilst everything humble, or, as they call
+it, "low," is scouted by them. They begin to have a vague idea
+that the religion which they have hitherto professed is low; at any
+rate, that it is not the religion of the mighty ones of the earth,
+of the great kings and emperors whose shoes they have a vast
+inclination to kiss, nor was used by the grand personages of whom
+they have read in their novels and romances, their Ivanhoes, their
+Marmions, and their Ladies of the Lake.'
+
+'Do you think that the writings of Scott have had any influence in
+modifying their religious opinions?'
+
+'Most certainly I do,' said the man in black. 'The writings of
+that man have made them greater fools than they were before. All
+their conversation now is about gallant knights, princesses, and
+cavaliers, with which his pages are stuffed--all of whom were
+Papists, or very High Church, which is nearly the same thing; and
+they are beginning to think that the religion of such nice sweet-
+scented gentry must be something very superfine. Why, I know at
+Birmingham the daughter of an ironmonger, who screeches to the
+piano the Lady of the Lake's hymn to the Virgin Mary, always weeps
+when Mary Queen of Scots is mentioned, and fasts on the anniversary
+of the death of that very wise martyr, Charles the First. Why, I
+would engage to convert such an idiot to popery in a week, were it
+worth my trouble. O Cavaliere Gualtiero, avete fatto molto in
+favore della Santa Sede!'
+
+'If he has,' said I, 'he has done it unwittingly; I never heard
+before that he was a favourer of the popish delusion.'
+
+'Only in theory,' said the man in black. 'Trust any of the clan
+Mac-Sycophant for interfering openly and boldly in favour of any
+cause on which the sun does not shine benignantly. Popery is at
+present, as you say, suing for grace in these regions in forma
+pauperis; but let royalty once take it up, let old gouty George
+once patronise it, and I would consent to drink puddle-water if,
+the very next time the canny Scot was admitted to the royal
+symposium, he did not say, "By my faith, yere Majesty, I have
+always thought, at the bottom of my heart, that popery, as ill-
+scrapit tongues ca' it, was a very grand religion; I shall be proud
+to follow your Majesty's example in adopting it."'
+
+'I doubt not,' said I, 'that both gouty George and his devoted
+servant will be mouldering in their tombs long before Royalty in
+England thinks about adopting popery.'
+
+'We can wait,' said the man in black; 'in these days of rampant
+gentility, there will be no want of kings nor of Scots about them.'
+
+'But not Walters,' said I.
+
+'Our work has been already tolerably well done by one,' said the
+man in black; 'but if we wanted literature, we should never lack in
+these regions hosts of literary men of some kind or other to
+eulogise us, provided our religion were in the fashion, and our
+popish nobles chose--and they always do our bidding--to admit the
+canaille to their tables--their kitchen tables. As for literature
+in general,' said he, 'the Santa Sede is not particularly partial
+to it, it may be employed both ways. In Italy, in particular, it
+has discovered that literary men are not always disposed to be
+lickspittles.'
+
+'For example, Dante,' said I.
+
+'Yes,' said the man in black, 'a dangerous personage; that poem of
+his cuts both ways; and then there was Pulci, that Morgante of his
+cuts both ways, or rather one way, and that sheer against us; and
+then there was Aretino, who dealt so hard with the poveri frati;
+all writers, at least Italian ones, are not lickspittles. And then
+in Spain,--'tis true, Lope de Vega and Calderon were most
+inordinate lickspittles; the Principe Constante of the last is a
+curiosity in its way; and then the Mary Stuart of Lope; I think I
+shall recommend the perusal of that work to the Birmingham
+ironmonger's daughter--she has been lately thinking of adding "a
+slight knowledge of the magneeficent language of the Peninsula" to
+the rest of her accomplishments, he! he! he! But then there was
+Cervantes, starving, but straight; he deals us some hard knocks in
+that second part of his Quixote. Then there were some of the
+writers of the picaresque novels. No, all literary men are not
+lickspittles, whether in Italy or Spain, or, indeed, upon the
+Continent; it is only in England that all--'
+
+'Come,' said I, 'Mind what you are about to say of English literary
+men.'
+
+'Why should I mind?' said the man in black, 'there are no literary
+men here. I have heard of literary men living in garrets, but not
+in dingles, whatever philologists may do; I may, therefore, speak
+out freely. It is only in England that literary men are invariably
+lickspittles; on which account, perhaps, they are so despised, even
+by those who benefit by their dirty services. Look at your
+fashionable novel-writers, he! he!--and, above all, at your
+newspaper editors, ho! ho!'
+
+'You will, of course, except the editors of the--from your censure
+of the last class?' said I.
+
+'Them!' said the man in black; 'why, they might serve as models in
+the dirty trade to all the rest who practise it. See how they
+bepraise their patrons, the grand Whig nobility, who hope, by
+raising the cry of liberalism and by putting themselves at the head
+of the populace, to come into power shortly. I don't wish to be
+hard, at present, upon those Whigs,' he continued, 'for they are
+playing our game; but a time will come when, not wanting them, we
+will kick them to a considerable distance: and then, when
+toleration is no longer the cry, and the Whigs are no longer backed
+by the populace, see whether the editors of the--will stand by
+them; they will prove themselves as expert lickspittles of
+despotism as of liberalism. Don't think they will always bespatter
+the Tories and Austria.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'I am sorry to find that you entertain so low an
+opinion of the spirit of English literary men; we will now return,
+if you please, to the subject of the middle classes; I think your
+strictures upon them in general are rather too sweeping--they are
+not altogether the foolish people which you have described. Look,
+for example, at that very powerful and numerous body the
+Dissenters, the descendants of those sturdy Patriots who hurled
+Charles the Simple from his throne.'
+
+'There are some sturdy fellows amongst them, I do not deny,' said
+the man in black, 'especially amongst the preachers, clever withal-
+-two or three of that class nearly drove Mr. Platitude mad, as
+perhaps you are aware, but they are not very numerous; and the old
+sturdy sort of preachers are fast dropping off, and, as we observe
+with pleasure, are generally succeeded by frothy coxcombs, whom it
+would not be very difficult to gain over. But what we most rely
+upon as an instrument to bring the Dissenters over to us is the
+mania for gentility, which amongst them has of late become as
+great, and more ridiculous than amongst the middle classes
+belonging to the Church of England. All the plain and simple
+fashions of their forefathers they are either about to abandon, or
+have already done so. Look at the most part of their chapels--no
+longer modest brick edifices, situated in quiet and retired
+streets, but lunatic-looking erections, in what the simpletons call
+the modern Gothic taste, of Portland stone, with a cross upon the
+top, and the site generally the most conspicuous that can be found.
+And look at the manner in which they educate their children--I mean
+those that are wealthy. They do not even wish them to be
+Dissenters--"the sweet dears shall enjoy the advantages of good
+society, of which their parents were debarred." So the girls are
+sent to tip-top boarding-schools, where amongst other trash they
+read Rokeby, and are taught to sing snatches from that high-flying
+ditty, the "Cavalier" -
+
+
+'Would you match the base Skippon, and Massey, and Brown,
+With the barons of England, who fight for the crown? -
+
+
+he! he! their own names. Whilst the lads are sent to those hotbeds
+of pride and folly--colleges, whence they return with a greater
+contempt for everything "low," and especially for their own
+pedigree, than they went with. I tell you, friend, the children of
+Dissenters, if not their parents, are going over to the Church, as
+you call it, and the Church is going over to Rome.'
+
+'I do not see the justice of that latter assertion at all,' said I;
+'some of the Dissenters' children may be coming over to the Church
+of England, and yet the Church of England be very far from going
+over to Rome.'
+
+'In the high road for it, I assure you,' said the man in black;
+'part of it is going to abandon, the rest to lose their
+prerogative, and when a Church no longer retains its prerogative,
+it speedily loses its own respect, and that of others.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'if the higher classes have all the vices and
+follies which you represent, on which point I can say nothing, as I
+have never mixed with them; and even supposing the middle classes
+are the foolish beings you would fain make them, and which I do not
+believe them as a body to be, you would still find some resistance
+amongst the lower classes: I have a considerable respect for their
+good sense and independence of character; but pray let me hear your
+opinion of them.'
+
+'As for the lower classes,' said the man in black, 'I believe them
+to be the most brutal wretches in the world, the most addicted to
+foul feeding, foul language, and foul vices of every kind; wretches
+who have neither love for country, religion, nor anything save
+their own vile selves. You surely do not think that they would
+oppose a change of religion! why, there is not one of them but
+would hurrah for the Pope, or Mahomet, for the sake of a hearty
+gorge and a drunken bout, like those which they are treated with at
+election contests.'
+
+'Has your church any followers amongst them?' said I.
+
+'Wherever there happens to be a Romish family of considerable
+possessions,' said the man in black, 'our church is sure to have
+followers of the lower class, who have come over in the hope of
+getting something in the shape of dole or donation. As, however,
+the Romish is not yet the dominant religion, and the clergy of the
+English establishment have some patronage to bestow, the churches
+are not quite deserted by the lower classes; yet, were the Romish
+to become the established religion, they would, to a certainty, all
+go over to it; you can scarcely imagine what a self-interested set
+they are--for example, the landlord of that public-house in which I
+first met you, having lost a sum of money upon a cock-fight, and
+his affairs in consequence being in a bad condition, is on the eve
+of coming over to us, in the hope that two old Popish females of
+property, whom I confess, will advance a sum of money to set him up
+again in the world.'
+
+'And what could have put such an idea into the poor fellow's head?'
+said I.
+
+'Oh, he and I have had some conversation upon the state of his
+affairs,' said the man in black; 'I think he might make a rather
+useful convert in these parts, provided things take a certain turn,
+as they doubtless will. It is no bad thing to have a fighting
+fellow, who keeps a public-house, belonging to one's religion. He
+has been occasionally employed as a bully at elections by the Tory
+party, and he may serve us in the same capacity. The fellow comes
+of a good stock; I heard him say that his father headed the High
+Church mob who sacked and burnt Priestley's house at Birmingham,
+towards the end of the last century.'
+
+'A disgraceful affair,' said I.
+
+'What do you mean by a disgraceful affair?' said the man in black.
+'I assure you that nothing has occurred for the last fifty years
+which has given the High Church party so much credit in the eyes of
+Rome as that,--we did not imagine that the fellows had so much
+energy. Had they followed up that affair by twenty others of a
+similar kind, they would by this time have had everything in their
+own power; but they did not, and, as a necessary consequence, they
+are reduced to almost nothing.'
+
+'I suppose,' said I, 'that your Church would have acted very
+differently in its place.'
+
+'It has always done so,' said the man in black, coolly sipping.
+'Our Church has always armed the brute population against the
+genius and intellect of a country, provided that same intellect and
+genius were not willing to become its instruments and eulogists;
+and provided we once obtain a firm hold here again, we would not
+fail to do so. We would occasionally stuff the beastly rabble with
+horseflesh and bitter ale, and then halloo them on against all
+those who were obnoxious to us.'
+
+'Horseflesh and bitter ale!' I replied.
+
+'Yes,' said the man in black; 'horseflesh and bitter ale--the
+favourite delicacies of their Saxon ancestors, who were always
+ready to do our bidding after a liberal allowance of such cheer.
+There is a tradition in our Church, that before the Northumbrian
+rabble, at the instigation of Austin, attacked and massacred the
+presbyterian monks of Bangor, they had been allowed a good gorge of
+horseflesh and bitter ale. He! he! he!' continued the man in
+black, 'what a fine spectacle to see such a mob, headed by a fellow
+like our friend the landlord, sack the house of another Priestley!'
+
+'Then you don't deny that we have had a Priestley,' said I, 'and
+admit the possibility of our having another? You were lately
+observing that all English literary men were sycophants?'
+
+'Lickspittles,' said the man in black; 'yes, I admit that you have
+had a Priestley, but he was a Dissenter of the old class; you have
+had him, and perhaps may have another.'
+
+'Perhaps we may,' said I. 'But with respect to the lower classes,
+have you mixed much with them?'
+
+'I have mixed with all classes,' said the man in black, 'and with
+the lower not less than the upper and middle; they are much as I
+have described them; and of the three, the lower are the worst. I
+never knew one of them that possessed the slightest principle, no,
+not -. It is true, there was one fellow whom I once met, who--;
+but it is a long story, and the affair happened abroad.--I ought to
+know something of the English people,' he continued, after a
+moment's pause; 'I have been many years amongst them, labouring in
+the cause of the Church.'
+
+'Your See must have had great confidence in your powers when it
+selected you to labour for it in these parts,' said I.
+
+'They chose me,' said the man in black, 'principally because, being
+of British extraction and education, I could speak the English
+language and bear a glass of something strong. It is the opinion
+of my See that it would hardly do to send a missionary into a
+country like this who is not well versed in English--a country
+where, they think, so far from understanding any language besides
+his own, scarcely one individual in ten speaks his own
+intelligibly; or an ascetic person where, as they say, high and
+low, male and female, are, at some period of their lives, fond of a
+renovating glass, as it is styled--in other words, of tippling.'
+
+'Your See appears to entertain a very strange opinion of the
+English,' said I.
+
+'Not altogether an unjust one,' said the man in black, lifting the
+glass to his mouth.
+
+'Well,' said I, 'it is certainly very kind on its part to wish to
+bring back such a set of beings beneath its wing.'
+
+'Why, as to the kindness of my See,' said the man in black, 'I have
+not much to say; my See has generally in what it does a tolerably
+good motive; these heretics possess in plenty what my See has a
+great hankering for, and can turn to a good account--money!'
+
+'The Founder of the Christian religion cared nothing for money,'
+said I.
+
+'What have we to do with what the Founder of the Christian religion
+cared for?' said the man in black. 'How could our temples be built
+and our priests supported without money? But you are unwise to
+reproach us with a desire of obtaining money; you forget that your
+own Church, if the Church of England be your own Church, as I
+suppose it is from the willingness which you displayed in the
+public-house to fight for it, is equally avaricious; look at your
+greedy Bishops and your corpulent Rectors--do they imitate Christ
+in His disregard for money? You might as well tell me that they
+imitate Christ in His meekness and humility.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'whatever their faults may be, you can't say that
+they go to Rome for money.'
+
+The man in black made no direct answer, but appeared by the motion
+of his lips to be repeating something to himself.
+
+'I see your glass is again empty,' said I; 'perhaps you will
+replenish it.'
+
+The man in black arose from his seat, adjusted his habiliments,
+which were rather in disorder, and placed upon his head his hat,
+which he had laid aside; then, looking at me, who was still lying
+on the ground, he said--'I might, perhaps, take another glass,
+though I believe I have had quite as much as I can well bear; but I
+do not wish to hear you utter anything more this evening, after
+that last observation of yours--it is quite original; I will
+meditate upon it on my pillow this night, after having said an ave
+and a pater--go to Rome for money!' He then made Belle a low bow,
+slightly motioned to me with his hand as if bidding farewell, and
+then left the dingle with rather uneven steps.
+
+'Go to Rome for money,' I heard him say as he ascended the winding
+path, 'he! he! he! Go to Rome for money, ho! ho! ho!'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XCV
+
+
+
+Wooded retreat--Fresh shoes--Wood fire--Ash, when green--Queen of
+China--Cleverest people--Declensions--Armenian--Thunder--Deep
+olive--What do you mean?--Koul Adonai--The thick bushes--Wood
+pigeon--Old Gothe.
+
+Nearly three days elapsed without anything of particular moment
+occurring. Belle drove the little cart containing her merchandise
+about the neighbourhood, returning to the dingle towards the
+evening. As for myself, I kept within my wooded retreat, working
+during the periods of her absence leisurely at my forge. Having
+observed that the quadruped which my companion drove was as much in
+need of shoes as my own had been some time previously, I had
+determined to provide it with a set, and during the aforesaid
+periods occupied myself in preparing them. As I was employed three
+mornings and afternoons about them, I am sure that the reader will
+agree that I worked leisurely, or rather, lazily. On the third day
+Belle arrived somewhat later than usual; I was lying on my back at
+the bottom of the dingle, employed in tossing up the shoes which I
+had produced, and catching them as they fell--some being always in
+the air mounting or descending, somewhat after the fashion of the
+waters of a fountain.
+
+'Why have you been absent so long?' said I to Belle; 'it must be
+long past four by the day.'
+
+'I have been almost killed by the heat,' said Belle; 'I was never
+out in a more sultry day--the poor donkey, too, could scarcely move
+along.'
+
+'He shall have fresh shoes,' said I, continuing my exercise; 'here
+they are quite ready; to-morrow I will tack them on.'
+
+'And why are you playing with them in that manner?' said Belle.
+
+'Partly in triumph at having made them, and partly to show that I
+can do something besides making them; it is not every one who,
+after having made a set of horse-shoes, can keep them going up and
+down in the air, without letting one fall--'
+
+'One has now fallen on your chin,' said Belle.
+
+'And another on my cheek,' said I, getting up; 'it is time to
+discontinue the game, for the last shoe drew blood.'
+
+Belle went to her own little encampment; and as for myself, after
+having flung the donkey's shoes into my tent, I put some fresh wood
+on the fire, which was nearly out, and hung the kettle over it. I
+then issued forth from the dingle, and strolled round the wood that
+surrounded it; for a long time I was busied in meditation, looking
+at the ground, striking with my foot, half unconsciously, the tufts
+of grass and thistles that I met in my way. After some time, I
+lifted up my eyes to the sky, at first vacantly, and then with more
+attention, turning my head in all directions for a minute or two;
+after which I returned to the dingle. Isopel was seated near the
+fire, over which the kettle was now hung; she had changed her
+dress--no signs of the dust and fatigue of her late excursion
+remained; she had just added to the fire a small billet of wood,
+two or three of which I had left beside it; the fire cracked, and a
+sweet odour filled the dingle.
+
+'I am fond of sitting by a wood fire,' said Belle, 'when abroad,
+whether it be hot or cold; I love to see the flames dart out of the
+wood; but what kind is this, and where did you get it?'
+
+'It is ash,' said I, 'green ash. Somewhat less than a week ago,
+whilst I was wandering along the road by the side of a wood, I came
+to a place where some peasants were engaged in cutting up and
+clearing away a confused mass of fallen timber: a mighty aged oak
+had given way the night before, and in its fall had shivered some
+smaller trees; the upper part of the oak, and the fragments of the
+rest, lay across the road. I purchased, for a trifle, a bundle or
+two, and the wood on the fire is part of it--ash, green ash.'
+
+'That makes good the old rhyme,' said Belle, 'which I have heard
+sung by the old women in the great house:-
+
+
+'Ash, when green,
+Is fire for a queen.'
+
+
+'And on fairer form of queen ash fire never shone,' said I, 'than
+on thine, O beauteous queen of the dingle.'
+
+'I am half disposed to be angry with you, young man,' said Belle.
+
+'And why not entirely?' said I.
+
+Belle made no reply.
+
+'Shall I tell you?' I demanded. 'You had no objection to the first
+part of the speech, but you did not like being called queen of the
+dingle. Well, if I had the power, I would make you queen of
+something better than the dingle--Queen of China. Come, let us
+have tea.'
+
+'Something less would content me,' said Belle, sighing, as she rose
+to prepare our evening meal.
+
+So we took tea together, Belle and I. 'How delicious tea is after
+a hot summer's day and a long walk,' said she.
+
+'I daresay it is most refreshing then,' said I; 'but I have heard
+people say that they most enjoy it on a cold winter's night, when
+the kettle is hissing on the fire, and their children playing on
+the hearth.'
+
+Belle sighed. 'Where does tea come from?' she presently demanded.
+
+'From China,' said I; 'I just now mentioned it, and the mention of
+it put me in mind of tea.'
+
+'What kind of country is China?'
+
+'I know very little about it; all I know is, that it is a very
+large country far to the East, but scarcely large enough to contain
+its inhabitants, who are so numerous, that though China does not
+cover one-ninth part of the world, its inhabitants amount to one-
+third of the population of the world.'
+
+'And do they talk as we do?'
+
+'Oh no! I know nothing of their language; but I have heard that it
+is quite different from all others, and so difficult that none but
+the cleverest people amongst foreigners can master it, on which
+account, perhaps, only the French pretend to know anything about
+it.'
+
+'Are the French so very clever, then?' said Belle.
+
+'They say there are no people like them, at least in Europe. But
+talking of Chinese reminds me that I have not for some time past
+given you a lesson in Armenian. The word for tea in Armenian is--
+by the bye what is the Armenian word for tea?'
+
+'That's your affair, not mine,' said Belle; 'it seems hard that the
+master should ask the scholar.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'whatever the word may be in Armenian, it is a
+noun; and as we have never yet declined an Armenian noun together,
+we may as well take this opportunity of declining one. Belle,
+there are ten declensions in Armenian!
+
+'What's a declension?'
+
+'The way of declining a noun.'
+
+'Then, in the civilest way imaginable, I decline the noun. Is that
+a declension?'
+
+'You should never play on words; to do so is low, vulgar, smelling
+of the pothouse, the workhouse. Belle, I insist on your declining
+an Armenian noun.'
+
+'I have done so already,' said Belle.
+
+'If you go on in this way,' said I, 'I shall decline taking any
+more tea with you. Will you decline an Armenian noun?'
+
+'I don't like the language,' said Belle. 'If you must teach me
+languages, why not teach me French or Chinese?'
+
+'I know nothing of Chinese; and as for French, none but a Frenchman
+is clever enough to speak it--to say nothing of teaching; no, we
+will stick to Armenian, unless, indeed, you would prefer Welsh!'
+
+'Welsh, I have heard, is vulgar,' said Belle; 'so, if I must learn
+one of the two, I will prefer Armenian, which I never heard of till
+you mentioned it to me; though, of the two, I really think Welsh
+sounds best.'
+
+'The Armenian noun,' said I, 'which I propose for your declension
+this night, is -, which signifieth Master.'
+
+'I neither like the word nor the sound,' said Belle.
+
+'I can't help that,' said I; 'it is the word I choose: Master,
+with all its variations, being the first noun the sound of which I
+would have you learn from my lips. Come, let us begin -
+
+'A master. Of a master, etc. Repeat--'
+
+'I am not much used to say the word,' said Belle, 'but to oblige
+you I will decline it as you wish'; and thereupon Belle declined
+Master in Armenian.
+
+'You have declined the noun very well,' said I; 'that is in the
+singular number; we will now go to the plural.'
+
+'What is the plural?' said Belle.
+
+'That which implies more than one, for example, Masters; you shall
+now go through masters in Armenian.'
+
+'Never,' said Belle, 'never; it is bad to have one master, but more
+I would never bear, whether in Armenian or English.'
+
+'You do not understand,' said I; 'I merely want you to decline
+Masters in Armenian.'
+
+'I do decline them; I will have nothing to do with them, nor with
+master either; I was wrong to--What sound is that?'
+
+'I did not hear it, but I daresay it is thunder; in Armenian--'
+
+'Never mind what it is in Armenian; but why do you think it is
+thunder?'
+
+'Ere I returned from my stroll, I looked up into the heavens, and
+by their appearance I judged that a storm was nigh at hand.'
+
+'And why did you not tell me so?'
+
+'You never asked me about the state of the atmosphere, and I am not
+in the habit of giving my opinion to people on any subject, unless
+questioned. But, setting that aside, can you blame me for not
+troubling you with forebodings about storm and tempest, which might
+have prevented the pleasure you promised yourself in drinking tea,
+or perhaps a lesson in Armenian, though you pretend to dislike the
+latter?'
+
+'My dislike is not pretended,' said Belle; 'I hate the sound of it,
+but I love my tea, and it was kind of you not to wish to cast a
+cloud over my little pleasures; the thunder came quite time enough
+to interrupt it without being anticipated--there is another peal--I
+will clear away, and see that my tent is in a condition to resist
+the storm; and I think you had better bestir yourself.'
+
+Isopel departed, and I remained seated on my stone, as nothing
+belonging to myself required any particular attention; in about a
+quarter of an hour she returned, and seated herself upon her stool.
+
+'How dark the place is become since I left you,' said she; 'just as
+if night were just at hand.'
+
+'Look up at the sky,' said I; 'and you will not wonder; it is all
+of a deep olive. The wind is beginning to rise; hark how it moans
+among the branches, and see how their tops are bending; it brings
+dust on its wings--I felt some fall on my face; and what is this, a
+drop of rain?'
+
+'We shall have plenty anon,' said Belle; 'do you hear? it already
+begins to hiss upon the embers; that fire of ours will soon be
+extinguished.'
+
+'It is not probable that we shall want it,' said I, 'but we had
+better seek shelter: let us go into my tent.'
+
+'Go in,' said Belle, 'but you go in alone; as for me, I will seek
+my own.'
+
+'You are right,' said I, 'to be afraid of me; I have taught you to
+decline master in Armenian.'
+
+'You almost tempt me,' said Belle, 'to make you decline mistress in
+English.'
+
+'To make matters short,' said I, 'I decline a mistress.'
+
+'What do you mean?' said Belle, angrily.
+
+'I have merely done what you wished me,' said I, 'and in your own
+style; there is no other way of declining anything in English, for
+in English there are no declensions.'
+
+'The rain is increasing,' said Belle.
+
+'It is so,' said I; 'I shall go to my tent; you may come if you
+please; I do assure you I am not afraid of you.'
+
+'Nor I of you,' said Belle; 'so I will come. Why should I be
+afraid? I can take my own part; that is--'
+
+We went into the tent and sat down, and now the rain began to pour
+with vehemence. 'I hope we shall not be flooded in this hollow,'
+said I to Belle. 'There is no fear of that,' said Belle; 'the
+wandering people, amongst other names, call it the dry hollow. I
+believe there is a passage somewhere or other by which the wet is
+carried off. There must be a cloud right above us, it is so dark.
+Oh! what a flash!'
+
+'And what a peal!' said I; 'that is what the Hebrews call Koul
+Adonai--the voice of the Lord. Are you afraid?'
+
+'No,' said Belle, 'I rather like to hear it.'
+
+'You are right,' said I, 'I am fond of the sound of thunder myself.
+There is nothing like it; Koul Adonai behadar: the voice of the
+Lord is a glorious voice, as the prayer-book version hath it.'
+
+'There is something awful in it,' said Belle; 'and then the
+lightning--the whole dingle is now in a blaze.'
+
+'"The voice of the Lord maketh the hinds to calve, and discovereth
+the thick bushes." As you say, there is something awful in
+thunder.'
+
+'There are all kinds of noises above us,' said Belle; 'surely I
+heard the crashing of a tree?'
+
+'"The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedar trees,"' said I, 'but
+what you hear is caused by a convulsion of the air; during a
+thunder-storm there are occasionally all kinds of aerial noises.
+Ab Gwilym, who, next to King David, has best described a
+thunderstorm, speaks of these aerial noises in the following
+manner:-
+
+
+'Astonied now I stand at strains,
+As of ten thousand clanking chains;
+And once, methought that, overthrown,
+The welkin's oaks came whelming down;
+Upon my head up starts my hair:
+Why hunt abroad the hounds of air?
+What cursed hag is screeching high,
+Whilst crash goes all her crockery?'
+
+
+You would hardly believe, Belle, that though I offered at least ten
+thousand lines nearly as good as those to the booksellers in
+London, the simpletons were so blind to their interest, as to
+refuse purchasing them!'
+
+'I don't wonder at it,' said Belle, 'especially if such dreadful
+expressions frequently occur as that towards the end;--surely that
+was the crash of a tree?'
+
+'Ah!' said I, 'there falls the cedar tree--I mean the sallow; one
+of the tall trees on the outside of the dingle has been snapped
+short.'
+
+'What a pity,' said Belle, 'that the fine old oak, which you saw
+the peasants cutting up, gave way the other night, when scarcely a
+breath of air was stirring; how much better to have fallen in a
+storm like this, the fiercest I remember.'
+
+'I don't think so,' said I; 'after braving a thousand tempests, it
+was meeter for it to fall of itself than to be vanquished at last.
+But to return to Ab Gwilym's poetry: he was above culling dainty
+words, and spoke boldly his mind on all subjects. Enraged with the
+thunder for parting him and Morfydd, he says, at the conclusion of
+his ode,
+
+
+'My curse, O Thunder, cling to thee,
+For parting my dear pearl and me!'
+
+
+'You and I shall part, that is, I shall go to my tent, if you
+persist in repeating from him. The man must have been a savage. A
+poor wood-pigeon has fallen dead.'
+
+'Yes,' said I, 'there he lies, just outside the tent; often have I
+listened to his note when alone in this wilderness. So you do not
+like Ab Gwilym; what say you to old Gothe? -
+
+
+'Mist shrouds the night, and rack;
+Hear, in the woods, what an awful crack!
+Wildly the owls are flitting,
+Hark to the pillars splitting
+Of palaces verdant ever,
+The branches quiver and sever,
+The mighty stems are creaking,
+The poor roots breaking and shrieking,
+In wild mixt ruin down dashing,
+O'er one another they're crashing;
+Whilst 'midst the rocks so hoary
+Whirlwinds hurry and worry.
+Hear'st not, sister--'
+
+
+'Hark!' said Belle, 'hark!'
+
+
+'Hear'st not, sister, a chorus
+Of voices--?'
+
+
+'No,' said Belle, 'but I hear a voice.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XCVI
+
+
+
+A shout--A fireball--See to the horses--Passing away--Gap in the
+hedge--On three wheels--Why do you stop?--No craven heart--The
+cordial--Across the country--Small bags.
+
+I listened attentively, but I could hear nothing but the loud
+clashing of branches, the pattering of rain, and the muttered growl
+of thunder. I was about to tell Belle that she must have been
+mistaken, when I heard a shout--indistinct, it is true, owing to
+the noises aforesaid--from some part of the field above the dingle.
+'I will soon see what's the matter,' said I to Belle, starting up.
+'I will go too;' said the girl. 'Stay where you are,' said I; 'if
+I need you, I will call'; and, without waiting for any answer, I
+hurried to the mouth of the dingle. I was about a few yards only
+from the top of the ascent, when I beheld a blaze of light, from
+whence I knew not; the next moment there was a loud crash, and I
+appeared involved in a cloud of sulphurous smoke. 'Lord have mercy
+upon us!' I heard a voice say, and methought I heard the plunging
+and struggling of horses. I had stopped short on hearing the
+crash, for I was half stunned; but I now hurried forward, and in a
+moment stood upon the plain. Here I was instantly aware of the
+cause of the crash and the smoke. One of those balls, generally
+called fireballs, had fallen from the clouds, and was burning on
+the plain at a short distance; and the voice which I had heard, and
+the plunging, were as easily accounted for. Near the left-hand
+corner of the grove which surrounded the dingle, and about ten
+yards from the fireball, I perceived a chaise, with a postilion on
+the box, who was making efforts, apparently useless, to control his
+horses, which were kicking and plunging in the highest degree of
+excitement. I instantly ran towards the chaise, in order to offer
+what help was in my power. 'Help me,' said the poor fellow, as I
+drew nigh; but before I could reach the horses, they had turned
+rapidly round, one of the fore-wheels flew from its axle-tree, the
+chaise was overset, and the postilion flung violently from his seat
+upon the field. The horses now became more furious than before,
+kicking desperately, and endeavouring to disengage themselves from
+the fallen chaise. As I was hesitating whether to run to the
+assistance of the postilion or endeavour to disengage the animals,
+I heard the voice of Belle exclaiming, 'See to the horses, I will
+look after the man.' She had, it seems, been alarmed by the crash
+which accompanied the firebolt, and had hurried up to learn the
+cause. I forthwith seized the horses by the heads, and used all
+the means I possessed to soothe and pacify them, employing every
+gentle modulation of which my voice was capable. Belle, in the
+meantime, had raised up the man, who was much stunned by his fall;
+but, presently recovering his recollection to a certain degree, he
+came limping to me, holding his hand to his right thigh. 'The
+first thing that must now be done,' said I, 'is to free these
+horses from the traces; can you undertake to do so?' ' I think I
+can,' said the man, looking at me somewhat stupidly. 'I will
+help,' said Belle, and without loss of time laid hold of one of the
+traces. The man, after a short pause, also set to work, and in a
+few minutes the horses were extricated. 'Now,' said I to the man,
+'what is next to be done?' 'I don't know,' said he; 'indeed, I
+scarcely know anything; I have been so frightened by this horrible
+storm, and so shaken by my fall.' 'I think,' said I, 'that the
+storm is passing away, so cast your fears away too; and as for your
+fall, you must bear it as lightly as you can. I will tie the
+horses amongst those trees, and then we will all betake us to the
+hollow below.' 'And what's to become of my chaise?' said the
+postilion, looking ruefully on the fallen vehicle. 'Let us leave
+the chaise for the present,' said I; 'we can be of no use to it.'
+'I don't like to leave my chaise lying on the ground in this
+weather,' said the man; 'I love my chaise, and him whom it belongs
+to.' 'You are quite right to be fond of yourself,' said I, 'on
+which account I advise you to seek shelter from the rain as soon as
+possible.' 'I was not talking of myself,' said the man, 'but my
+master, to whom the chaise belongs.' 'I thought you called the
+chaise yours,' said I. 'That's my way of speaking,' said the man;
+'but the chaise is my master's, and a better master does not live.
+Don't you think we could manage to raise up the chaise?' 'And what
+is to become of the horses?' said I. 'I love my horses well
+enough,' said the man; 'but they will take less harm than the
+chaise. We two can never lift up that chaise.' 'But we three
+can,' said Belle; 'at least, I think so; and I know where to find
+two poles which will assist us.' 'You had better go to the tent,'
+said I, 'you will be wet through.' 'I care not for a little
+wetting,' said Belle; 'moreover, I have more gowns than one--see
+you after the horses.' Thereupon, I led the horses past the mouth
+of the dingle, to a place where a gap in the hedge afforded
+admission to the copse or plantation on the southern side. Forcing
+them through the gap, I led them to a spot amidst the trees which I
+deemed would afford them the most convenient place for standing;
+then, darting down into the dingle, I brought up a rope, and also
+the halter of my own nag, and with these fastened them each to a
+separate tree in the best manner I could. This done, I returned to
+the chaise and the postilion. In a minute or two Belle arrived
+with two poles which, it seems, had long been lying, overgrown with
+brushwood, in a ditch or hollow behind the plantation. With these
+both she and I set to work in endeavouring to raise the fallen
+chaise from the ground.
+
+We experienced considerable difficulty in this undertaking; at
+length, with the assistance of the postilion, we saw our efforts
+crowned with success--the chaise was lifted up, and stood upright
+on three wheels.
+
+'We may leave it here in safety,' said I, 'for it will hardly move
+away on three wheels, even supposing it could run by itself; I am
+afraid there is work here for a wheelwright, in which case I cannot
+assist you; if you were in need of a blacksmith it would be
+otherwise.' 'I don't think either the wheel or the axle is hurt,'
+said the postilion, who had been handling both; 'it is only the
+linch-pin having dropped out that caused the wheel to fly off; if I
+could but find the linch-pin!--though, perhaps, it fell out a mile
+away.' 'Very likely,' said I; 'but never mind the linch-pin, I can
+make you one, or something that will serve: but I can't stay here
+any longer, I am going to my place below with this young
+gentlewoman, and you had better follow us.' 'I am ready,' said the
+man; and after lifting up the wheel and propping it against the
+chaise, he went with us, slightly limping, and with his hand
+pressed to his thigh.
+
+As we were descending the narrow path, Belle leading the way, and
+myself the last of the party, the postilion suddenly stopped short,
+and looked about him. 'Why do you stop?' said I. 'I don't wish to
+offend you,' said the man, 'but this seems to be a strange place
+you are leading me into; I hope you and the young gentlewoman, as
+you call her, don't mean me any harm--you seemed in a great hurry
+to bring me here.' 'We wished to get you out of the rain,' said I,
+'and ourselves too; that is, if we can, which I rather doubt, for
+the canvas of a tent is slight shelter in such a rain; but what
+harm should we wish to do you?' 'You may think I have money,' said
+the man, 'and I have some, but only thirty shillings, and for a sum
+like that it would be hardly worth while to--' 'Would it not?'
+said I; 'thirty shillings, after all, are thirty shillings, and for
+what I know, half a dozen throats may have been cut in this place
+for that sum at the rate of five shillings each; moreover, there
+are the horses, which would serve to establish this young
+gentlewoman and myself in housekeeping, provided we were thinking
+of such a thing.' 'Then I suppose I have fallen into pretty
+hands,' said the man, putting himself in a posture of defence; 'but
+I'll show no craven heart; and if you attempt to lay hands on me,
+I'll try to pay you in your own coin. I'm rather lamed in the leg,
+but I can still use my fists; so come on, both of you, man and
+woman, if woman this be, though she looks more like a grenadier.'
+
+'Let me hear no more of this nonsense,' said Belle; 'if you are
+afraid, you can go back to your chaise--we only seek to do you a
+kindness.'
+
+'Why, he was just now talking of cutting throats,' said the man.
+'You brought it on yourself,' said Belle; 'you suspected us, and he
+wished to pass a joke upon you; he would not hurt a hair of your
+head, were your coach laden with gold, nor would I.' 'Well,' said
+the man, 'I was wrong--here's my hand to both of you,' shaking us
+by the hands; 'I'll go with you where you please, but I thought
+this a strange lonesome place, though I ought not much to mind
+strange lonesome places, having been in plenty of such when I was a
+servant in Italy, without coming to any harm--come, let us move on,
+for 'tis a shame to keep you two in the rain.'
+
+So we descended the path which led into the depths of the dingle;
+at the bottom I conducted the postilion to my tent, which, though
+the rain dripped and trickled through it, afforded some shelter;
+there I bade him sit down on the log of wood, whilst I placed
+myself as usual on my stone. Belle in the meantime had repaired to
+her own place of abode. After a little time, I produced a bottle
+of the cordial of which I have previously had occasion to speak,
+and made my guest take a considerable draught. I then offered him
+some, bread and cheese, which he accepted with thanks. In about an
+hour the rain had much abated: 'What do you now propose to do?'
+said I. 'I scarcely know,' said the man; 'I suppose I must
+endeavour to put on the wheel with your help.' 'How far are you
+from your home?' I demanded. 'Upwards of thirty miles,' said the
+man; 'my master keeps an inn on the great north road, and from
+thence I started early this morning with a family, which I conveyed
+across the country to a hall at some distance from here. On my
+return I was beset by the thunderstorm, which frightened the
+horses, who dragged the chaise off the road to the field above, and
+overset it as you saw. I had proposed to pass the night at an inn
+about twelve miles from here on my way back, though how I am to get
+there to-night I scarcely know, even if we can put on the wheel,
+for, to tell you the truth, I am shaken by my fall, and the
+smoulder and smoke of that fireball have rather bewildered my head;
+I am, moreover, not much acquainted with the way.
+
+'The best thing you can do,' said I, 'is to pass the night here; I
+will presently light a fire, and endeavour to make you comfortable-
+-in the morning we will see to your wheel.' 'Well,' said the man,
+'I shall be glad to pass the night here, provided I do not intrude,
+but I must see to the horses.' Thereupon I conducted the man to
+the place where the horses were tied. 'The trees drip very much
+upon them,' said the man, 'and it will not do for them to remain
+here all night; they will be better out on the field picking the
+grass; but first of all they must have a good feed of corn.'
+Thereupon he went to his chaise, from which he presently brought
+two small bags, partly filled with corn--into them he inserted the
+mouths of the horses, tying them over their heads. 'Here we will
+leave them for a time,' said the man; 'when I think they have had
+enough, I will come back, tie their fore-legs, and let them pick
+about.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XCVII
+
+
+
+Fire of charcoal--The new-comer--No wonder!--Not a blacksmith--A
+love affair--Gretna Green--A cool thousand--Family estates--Borough
+interest--Grand education--Let us hear--Already quarrelling--
+Honourable parents--Most heroically--Not common people--Fresh
+charcoal.
+
+It might be about ten o'clock at night. Belle, the postilion, and
+myself, sat just within the tent, by a fire of charcoal which I had
+kindled in the chafing-pan. The man had removed the harness from
+his horses, and, after tethering their legs, had left them for the
+night in the field above to regale themselves on what grass they
+could find. The rain had long since entirely ceased, and the moon
+and stars shone bright in the firmament, up to which, putting aside
+the canvas, I occasionally looked from the depths of the dingle.
+Large drops of water, however, falling now and then upon the tent
+from the neighbouring trees, would have served, could we have
+forgotten it, to remind us of the recent storm, and also a certain
+chilliness in the atmosphere, unusual to the season, proceeding
+from the moisture with which the ground was saturated; yet these
+circumstances only served to make our party enjoy the charcoal fire
+the more. There we sat bending over it: Belle, with her long
+beautiful hair streaming over her magnificent shoulders; the
+postilion smoking his pipe, in his shirt-sleeves and waistcoat,
+having flung aside his greatcoat, which had sustained a thorough
+wetting; and I without my wagoner's slop, of which, it being in the
+same plight, I had also divested myself.
+
+The new-comer was a well-made fellow of about thirty, with an open
+and agreeable countenance. I found him very well informed for a
+man in his station, and with some pretensions to humour. After we
+had discoursed for some time on indifferent subjects, the
+postilion, who had exhausted his pipe, took it from his mouth, and,
+knocking out the ashes upon the ground, exclaimed, 'I little
+thought, when I got up in the morning, that I should spend the
+night in such agreeable company, and after such a fright.'
+
+'Well,' said I, 'I am glad that your opinion of us has improved; it
+is not long since you seemed to hold us in rather a suspicious
+light.'
+
+'And no wonder,' said the man, 'seeing the place you were taking me
+to! I was not a little, but very much afraid of ye both; and so I
+continued for some time, though, not to show a craven heart, I
+pretended to be quite satisfied; but I see I was altogether
+mistaken about ye. I thought you vagrant gypsy folks and trampers;
+but now--'
+
+'Vagrant gypsy folks and trampers,' said I; 'and what are we but
+people of that stamp?'
+
+'Oh,' said the postilion, 'if you wish to be thought such, I am far
+too civil a person to contradict you, especially after your
+kindness to me, but--'
+
+'But!' said I; 'what do you mean by but? I would have you to know
+that I am proud of being a travelling blacksmith; look at these
+donkey-shoes, I finished them this day.'
+
+The postilion took the shoes and examined them. 'So you made these
+shoes?' he cried at last.
+
+'To be sure I did; do you doubt it?'
+
+'Not in the least,' said the man.
+
+'Ah! ah!' said I, 'I thought I should bring you back to your
+original opinion. I am, then, a vagrant gypsy body, a tramper, a
+wandering blacksmith.'
+
+'Not a blacksmith, whatever else you may be,' said the postilion,
+laughing.
+
+'Then how do you account for my making those shoes?'
+
+'By your not being a blacksmith,' said the postilion; 'no
+blacksmith would have made shoes in that manner. Besides, what did
+you mean just now by saying you had finished these shoes to-day? A
+real blacksmith would have flung off three or four sets of donkey-
+shoes in one morning, but you, I will be sworn, have been hammering
+at these for days, and they do you credit--but why?--because you
+are no blacksmith; no, friend, your shoes may do for this young
+gentlewoman's animal, but I shouldn't like to have my horses shod
+by you, unless at a great pinch indeed.'
+
+'Then,' said I, 'for what do you take me?'
+
+'Why, for some runaway young gentleman,' said the postilion. 'No
+offence, I hope?'
+
+'None at all; no one is offended at being taken or mistaken for a
+young gentleman, whether runaway or not; but from whence do you
+suppose I have run away?'
+
+'Why, from college,' said the man: 'no offence?'
+
+'None whatever; and what induced me to run away from college?'
+
+'A love affair, I'll be sworn,' said the postilion. 'You had
+become acquainted with this young gentlewoman, so she and you--'
+
+'Mind how you get on, friend,' said Belle, in a deep serious tone.
+
+'Pray proceed,' said I; 'I daresay you mean no offence.'
+
+'None in the world,' said the postilion; 'all I was going to say
+was, that you agreed to run away together, you from college, and
+she from boarding-school. Well, there's nothing to be ashamed of
+in a matter like that, such things are done every day by young
+folks in high life.'
+
+'Are you offended?' said I to Belle.
+
+Belle made no answer; but, placing her elbows on her knees, buried
+her face in her hands.
+
+'So we ran away together?' said I.
+
+'Ay, ay,' said the postilion, 'to Gretna Green, though I can't say
+that I drove ye, though I have driven many a pair.'
+
+'And from Gretna Green we came here?'
+
+'I'll be bound you did,' said the man, 'till you could arrange
+matters at home.'
+
+'And the horse-shoes?' said I.
+
+'The donkey-shoes you mean,' answered the postilion; 'why, I
+suppose you persuaded the blacksmith who married you to give you,
+before you left, a few lessons in his trade.'
+
+'And we intend to stay here till we have arranged matters at home?'
+
+'Ay, ay,' said the postilion, 'till the old people are pacified,
+and they send you letters directed to the next post town, to be
+left till called for, beginning with "Dear children," and enclosing
+you each a cheque for one hundred pounds, when you will leave this
+place, and go home in a coach like gentlefolks, to visit your
+governors; I should like nothing better than to have the driving of
+you: and then there will be a grand meeting of the two families,
+and after a few reproaches, the old people will agree to do
+something handsome for the poor thoughtless things; so you will
+have a genteel house taken for you, and an annuity allowed you.
+You won't get much the first year, five hundred at the most, in
+order that the old folks may let you feel that they are not
+altogether satisfied with you, and that you are yet entirely in
+their power; but the second, if you don't get a cool thousand, may
+I catch cold, especially should young madam here present a son and
+heir for the old people to fondle, destined one day to become sole
+heir of the two illustrious houses; and then all the grand folks in
+the neighbourhood, who have--bless their prudent hearts!--kept
+rather aloof from you till then, for fear you should want anything
+from them--I say all the carriage people in the neighbourhood, when
+they see how swimmingly matters are going on, will come in shoals
+to visit you.'
+
+'Really,' said I, 'you are getting on swimmingly.'
+
+'Oh,' said the postilion, 'I was not a gentleman's servant nine
+years without learning the ways of gentry, and being able to know
+gentry when I see them.'
+
+'And what do you say to all this?' I demanded of Belle.
+
+'Stop a moment,' interposed the postilion, 'I have one more word to
+say:- and when you are surrounded by your comforts, keeping your
+nice little barouche and pair, your coachman and livery servant,
+and visited by all the carriage people in the neighbourhood--to say
+nothing of the time when you come to the family estates on the
+death of the old people--I shouldn't wonder if now and then you
+look back with longing and regret to the days when you lived in the
+damp dripping dingle, had no better equipage than a pony or donkey
+cart, and saw no better company than a tramper or gypsy, except
+once, when a poor postilion was glad to seat himself at your
+charcoal fire.'
+
+'Pray,' said I, 'did you ever take lessons in elocution?'
+
+'Not directly,' said the postilion; 'but my old master, who was in
+Parliament, did, and so did his son, who was intended to be an
+orator. A great professor used to come and give them lessons, and
+I used to stand and listen, by which means I picked up a
+considerable quantity of what is called rhetoric. In what I last
+said, I was aiming at what I have heard him frequently endeavouring
+to teach my governors as a thing indispensably necessary in all
+oratory, a graceful pere--pere--peregrination.'
+
+'Peroration, perhaps?'
+
+'Just so,' said the postilion; 'and now I'm sure I am not mistaken
+about you; you have taken lessons yourself, at first hand, in the
+college vacations, and a promising pupil you were, I make no doubt.
+Well, your friends will be all the happier to get you back. Has
+your governor much borough interest?'
+
+'I ask you once more,' said I, addressing myself to Belle, 'what
+you think of the history which this good man has made for us?'
+
+'What should I think of it,' said Belle, still keeping her face
+buried in her hands, 'but that it is mere nonsense?'
+
+'Nonsense!' said the postilion.
+
+'Yes,' said the girl, 'and you know it.'
+
+'May my leg always ache, if I do,' said the postilion, patting his
+leg with his hand; 'will you persuade me that this young man has
+never been at college?'
+
+'I have never been at college, but--'
+
+'Ay, ay,' said the postilion, 'but--'
+
+'I have been to the best schools in Britain, to say nothing of a
+celebrated one in Ireland.'
+
+'Well, then, it comes to the same thing,' said the postilion, 'or
+perhaps you know more than if you had been at college--and your
+governor--'
+
+'My governor, as you call him,' said I, 'is dead.'
+
+'And his borough interest?'
+
+'My father had no borough interest,' said I; 'had he possessed any,
+he would perhaps not have died, as he did, honourably poor.'
+
+'No, no,' said the postilion, 'if he had had borough interest, he
+wouldn't have been poor, nor honourable, though perhaps a right
+honourable. However, with your grand education and genteel
+manners, you made all right at last by persuading this noble young
+gentlewoman to run away from boarding-school with you.'
+
+'I was never at boarding-school,' said Belle, 'unless you call--'
+
+'Ay, ay,' said the postilion, 'boarding-school is vulgar, I know:
+I beg your pardon, I ought to have called it academy, or by some
+other much finer name--you were in something much greater than a
+boarding-school.'
+
+'There you are right,' said Belle, lifting up her head and looking
+the postilion full in the face by the light of the charcoal fire,
+'for I was bred in the workhouse.'
+
+'Wooh!' said the postilion.
+
+'It is true that I am of good--'
+
+'Ay, ay,' said the postilion, 'let us hear--'
+
+'Of good blood,' continued Belle; 'my name is Berners, Isopel
+Berners, though my parents were unfortunate. Indeed, with respect
+to blood, I believe I am of better blood than the young man.'
+
+'There you are mistaken,' said I; 'by my father's side I am of
+Cornish blood, and by my mother's of brave French Protestant
+extraction. Now, with respect to the blood of my father--and to be
+descended well on the father's side is the principal thing--it is
+the best blood in the world, for the Cornish blood, as the proverb
+says--'
+
+'I don't care what the proverb says,' said Belle; 'I say my blood
+is the best--my name is Berners, Isopel Berners--it was my mother's
+name, and is better, I am sure, than any you bear, whatever that
+may be; and though you say that the descent on the fathers side is
+the principal thing--and I know why you say so,' she added with
+some excitement--'I say that descent on the mother's side is of
+most account, because the mother--'
+
+'Just come from Gretna Green, and already quarrelling!' said the
+postilion.
+
+'We do not come from Gretna Green,' said Belle.
+
+'Ah, I had forgot,' said the postilion; 'none but great people go
+to Gretna Green. Well, then, from church, and already quarrelling
+about family, just like two great people.'
+
+'We have never been to church,' said Belle; 'and to prevent any
+more guessing on your part, it will be as well for me to tell you,
+friend, that I am nothing to the young man, and he, of course,
+nothing to me. I am a poor travelling girl, born in a workhouse:
+journeying on my occasions with certain companions, I came to this
+hollow, where my company quarrelled with the young man, who had
+settled down here, as he had a right to do if he pleased; and not
+being able to drive him out, they went away after quarrelling with
+me, too, for not choosing to side with them; so I stayed here along
+with the young man, there being room for us both, and the place
+being as free to me as to him.'
+
+'And in order that you may be no longer puzzled with respect to
+myself,' said I; 'I will give you a brief outline of my history. I
+am the son of honourable parents, who gave me a first-rate
+education, as far as literature and languages went, with which
+education I endeavoured, on the death of my father, to advance
+myself to wealth and reputation in the big city; but failing in the
+attempt, I conceived a disgust for the busy world, and determined
+to retire from it. After wandering about for some time, and
+meeting with various adventures, in one of which I contrived to
+obtain a pony, cart, and certain tools used by smiths and tinkers,
+I came to this place, where I amused myself with making horse-
+shoes, or rather pony-shoes, having acquired the art of wielding
+the hammer and tongs from a strange kind of smith--not him of
+Gretna Green--whom I knew in my childhood. And here I lived, doing
+harm to no one, quite lonely and solitary, till one fine morning
+the premises were visited by this young gentlewoman and her
+companions. She did herself anything but justice when she said
+that her companions quarrelled with her because she would not side
+with them against me; they quarrelled with her because she came
+most heroically to my assistance as I was on the point of being
+murdered; and she forgot to tell you that, after they had abandoned
+her, she stood by me in the--dark hour, comforting and cheering me,
+when unspeakable dread, to which I am occasionally subject, took
+possession of my mind. She says she is nothing to me, even as I am
+nothing to her. I am of course nothing to her, but she is mistaken
+in thinking she is nothing to me. I entertain the highest regard
+and admiration for her, being convinced that I might search the
+whole world in vain for a nature more heroic and devoted.'
+
+'And for my part,' said Belle, with a sob, 'a more quiet agreeable
+partner in a place like this I would not wish to have; it is true
+he has strange ways, and frequently puts words into my mouth very
+difficult to utter, but--but--' and here she buried her face once
+more in her hands.
+
+'Well,' said the postilion, 'I have been mistaken about you; that
+is, not altogether, but in part. You are not rich folks, it seems,
+but you are not common people, and that I could have sworn. What I
+call a shame is, that some people I have known are not in your
+place and you in theirs, you with their estates and borough
+interest, they in this dingle with these carts and animals; but
+there is no help for these things. Were I the great Mumbo Jumbo
+above, I would endeavour to manage matters better; but being a
+simple postilion, glad to earn three shillings a day, I can't be
+expected to do much.'
+
+'Who is Mumbo Jumbo?' said I.
+
+'Ah!' said the postilion, 'I see there may be a thing or two I know
+better than yourself. Mumbo Jumbo is a god of the black coast, to
+which people go for ivory and gold.'
+
+'Were you ever there?' I demanded.
+
+'No,' said the postilion, 'but I heard plenty of Mumbo Jumbo when I
+was a boy.'
+
+'I wish you would tell us something about yourself. I believe that
+your own real history would prove quite as entertaining, if not
+more, than that which you imagined about us.'
+
+'I am rather tired,' said the postilion, 'and my leg is rather
+troublesome. I should be glad to try to sleep upon one of your
+blankets. However, as you wish to hear something about me, I shall
+be happy to oblige you; but your fire is rather low, and this place
+is chilly.'
+
+Thereupon I arose, and put fresh charcoal on the pan; then taking
+it outside the tent, with a kind of fan which I had fashioned, I
+fanned the coals into a red glow, and continued doing so until the
+greater part of the noxious gas, which the coals are in the habit
+of exhaling, was exhausted. I then brought it into the tent and
+reseated myself, scattering over the coals a small portion of
+sugar. 'No bad smell,' said the postilion; 'but upon the whole I
+think I like the smell of tobacco better; and with your permission
+I will once more light my pipe.'
+
+Thereupon he relighted his pipe; and, after taking two or three
+whiffs, began in the following manner.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XCVIII
+
+
+
+An exordium--Fine ships--High Barbary captains--Free-born
+Englishmen--Monstrous figure--Swashbuckler--The grand coaches--The
+footmen--A travelling expedition--Black Jack--Nelson's cannon--
+Pharaoh's butler--A diligence--Two passengers--Sharking priest--
+Virgilio--Lessons in Italian--Two opinions--Holy Mary--Priestly
+confederates--Methodist chapel--Veturini--Some of our party--Like a
+sepulchre--All for themselves.
+
+'I am a poor postilion, as you see; yet, as I have seen a thing or
+two and heard a thing or two of what is going on in the world,
+perhaps what I have to tell you connected with myself may not prove
+altogether uninteresting. Now, my friends, this manner of opening
+a story is what the man who taught rhetoric would call a hex--hex--
+'
+
+'Exordium,' said I.
+
+'Just so,' said the postilion; 'I treated you to a per--per--
+peroration some time ago, so that I have contrived to put the cart
+before the horse, as the Irish orators frequently do in the
+honourable House, in whose speeches, especially those who have
+taken lessons in rhetoric, the per--per--what's the word?--
+frequently goes before the exordium.
+
+'I was born in the neighbouring county; my father was land-steward
+to a squire of about a thousand a year. My father had two sons, of
+whom I am the youngest by some years. My elder brother was of a
+spirited roving disposition, and for fear that he should turn out
+what is generally termed ungain, my father determined to send him
+to sea: so once upon a time, when my brother was about fifteen, he
+took him to the great seaport of the county, where he apprenticed
+him to a captain of one of the ships which trade to the high
+Barbary coast. Fine ships they were, I have heard say, more than
+thirty in number, and all belonging to a wonderful great gentleman,
+who had once been a parish boy, but had contrived to make an
+immense fortune by trading to that coast for gold-dust, ivory, and
+other strange articles; and for doing so, I mean for making a
+fortune, had been made a knight baronet. So my brother went to the
+high Barbary shore, on board the fine vessel, and in about a year
+returned and came to visit us; he repeated the voyage several
+times, always coming to see his parents on his return. Strange
+stories he used to tell us of what he had been witness to on the
+high Barbary coast, both off shore and on. He said that the fine
+vessel in which he sailed was nothing better than a painted hell;
+that the captain was a veritable fiend, whose grand delight was in
+tormenting his men, especially when they were sick, as they
+frequently were, there being always fever on the high Barbary
+coast; and that though the captain was occasionally sick himself,
+his being so made no difference, or rather it did make a
+difference, though for the worse, he being when sick always more
+inveterate and malignant than at other times. He said that once,
+when he himself was sick, his captain had pitched his face all
+over, which exploit was much applauded by the other high Barbary
+captains--all of whom, from what my brother said, appeared to be of
+much the same disposition as my brother's captain, taking wonderful
+delight in tormenting the crews, and doing all manner of terrible
+things. My brother frequently said that nothing whatever prevented
+him from running away from his ship, and never returning, but the
+hope he entertained of one day being captain himself, and able to
+torment people in his turn, which he solemnly vowed he would do, as
+a kind of compensation for what he himself had undergone. And if
+things were going on in a strange way off the high Barbary shore
+amongst those who came there to trade, they were going on in a way
+yet stranger with the people who lived upon it.
+
+'Oh the strange ways of the black men who lived on that shore, of
+which my brother used to tell us at home--selling their sons,
+daughters, and servants for slaves, and the prisoners taken in
+battle, to the Spanish captains, to be carried to Havannah, and
+when there, sold at a profit, the idea of which, my brother said,
+went to the hearts of our own captains, who used to say what a hard
+thing it was that free-born Englishmen could not have a hand in the
+traffic, seeing that it was forbidden by the laws of their country;
+talking fondly of the good old times when their forefathers used to
+carry slaves to Jamaica and Barbadoes, realising immense profit,
+besides the pleasure of hearing their shrieks on the voyage; and
+then the superstitions of the blacks, which my brother used to talk
+of; their sharks' teeth, their wisps of fowls' feathers, their
+half-baked pots full of burnt bones, of which they used to make
+what they called fetish, and bow down to, and ask favours of, and
+then, perhaps, abuse and strike, provided the senseless rubbish did
+not give them what they asked for; and then, above all, Mumbo
+Jumbo, the grand fetish master, who lived somewhere in the woods,
+and who used to come out every now and then with his fetish
+companions; a monstrous figure, all wound round with leaves and
+branches, so as to be quite indistinguishable, and, seating himself
+on the high seat in the villages, receive homage from the people,
+and also gifts and offerings, the most valuable of which were
+pretty damsels, and then betake himself back again, with his
+followers, into the woods. Oh the tales that my brother used to
+tell us of the high Barbary shore! Poor fellow! what became of him
+I can't say; the last time he came back from a voyage, he told us
+that his captain, as soon as he had brought his vessel to port and
+settled with his owner, drowned himself off the quay, in a fit of
+the horrors, which it seems high Barbary captains, after a certain
+number of years, are much subject to. After staying about a month
+with us, he went to sea again, with another captain; and, bad as
+the old one had been, it appears the new one was worse, for, unable
+to bear his treatment, my brother left his ship off the high
+Barbary shore, and ran away up the country. Some of his comrades,
+whom we afterwards saw, said that there were various reports about
+him on the shore; one that he had taken on with Mumbo Jumbo, and
+was serving him in his house in the woods, in the capacity of
+swashbuckler, or life-guardsman; another, that he was gone in quest
+of a mighty city in the heart of the negro country; another, that
+in swimming a stream he had been devoured by an alligator. Now,
+these two last reports were bad enough; the idea of their flesh and
+blood being bit asunder by a ravenous fish was sad enough to my
+poor parents; and not very comfortable was the thought of his
+sweltering over the hot sands in quest of the negro city; but the
+idea of their son, their eldest child, serving Mumbo Jumbo as
+swashbuckler was worst of all, and caused my poor parents to shed
+many a scalding tear.
+
+'I stayed at home with my parents until I was about eighteen,
+assisting my father in various ways. I then went to live at the
+Squire's, partly as groom, partly as footman. After living in the
+country some time, I attended the family in a trip of six weeks
+which they made to London. Whilst there, happening to have some
+words with an old ill-tempered coachman, who had been for a great
+many years in the family, my master advised me to leave, offering
+to recommend me to a family of his acquaintance who were in need of
+a footman. I was glad to accept his offer, and in a few days went
+to my new place. My new master was one of the great gentry, a
+baronet in Parliament, and possessed of an estate of about twenty
+thousand a year; his family consisted of his lady, a son, a fine
+young man just coming of age, and two very sweet amiable daughters.
+I liked this place much better than my first, there was so much
+more pleasant noise and bustle--so much more grand company, and so
+many more opportunities of improving myself. Oh, how I liked to
+see the grand coaches drive up to the door, with the grand company;
+and though, amidst that company, there were some who did not look
+very grand, there were others, and not a few, who did. Some of the
+ladies quite captivated me; there was the Marchioness of--in
+particular. This young lady puts me much in mind of her; it is
+true, the Marchioness, as I saw her then, was about fifteen years
+older than this young gentlewoman is now, and not so tall by some
+inches, but she had the very same hair, and much the same neck and
+shoulders--no offence, I hope? And then some of the young
+gentlemen, with their cool, haughty, care-for-nothing looks, struck
+me as being very fine fellows. There was one in particular, whom I
+frequently used to stare at, not altogether unlike some one I have
+seen hereabouts--he had a slight cast in his eye, and . . . but I
+won't enter into every particular. And then the footmen! Oh, how
+those footmen helped to improve me with their conversation. Many
+of them could converse much more glibly than their masters, and
+appeared to have much better taste. At any rate, they seldom
+approved of what their masters did. I remember being once with one
+in the gallery of the play-house, when something of Shakspeare's
+was being performed: some one in the first tier of boxes was
+applauding very loudly. "That's my fool of a governor," said he;
+"he is weak enough to like Shakspeare--I don't;--he's so
+confoundedly low, but he won't last long--going down. Shakspeare
+culminated"--I think that was the word--"culminated some time ago."
+
+'And then the professor of elocution, of whom my governors used to
+take lessons, and of which lessons I had my share, by listening
+behind the door; but for that professor of elocution I should not
+be able to round my periods--an expression of his--in the manner I
+do.
+
+'After I had been three years at this place my mistress died. Her
+death, however, made no great alteration in my way of living, the
+family spending their winters in London, and their summers at their
+old seat in S- as before. At last, the young ladies, who had not
+yet got husbands, which was strange enough, seeing, as I told you
+before, they were very amiable, proposed to our governor a
+travelling expedition abroad. The old baronet consented, though
+young master was much against it, saying they would all be much
+better at home. As the girls persisted, however, he at last
+withdrew his opposition, and even promised to follow them as soon
+as his parliamentary duties would permit; for he was just got into
+Parliament, and, like most other young members, thought that
+nothing could be done in the House without him. So the old
+gentleman and the two young ladies set off, taking me with them,
+and a couple of ladies' maids to wait upon them. First of all, we
+went to Paris, where we continued three months, the old baronet and
+the ladies going to see the various sights of the city and the
+neighbourhood, and I attending them. They soon got tired of sight-
+seeing, and of Paris too; and so did I. However, they still
+continued there, in order, I believe, that the young ladies might
+lay in a store of French finery. I should have passed my idle time
+at Paris, of which I had plenty after the sight-seeing was over,
+very unpleasantly, but for Black Jack. Eh! did you never hear of
+Black Jack? Ah! if you had ever been an English servant in Paris,
+you would have known Black Jack; not an English gentleman's servant
+who has been at Paris for this last ten years but knows Black Jack
+and his ordinary. A strange fellow he was--of what country no one
+could exactly say--for as for judging from speech, that was
+impossible, Jack speaking all languages equally ill. Some said he
+came direct from Satan's kitchen, and that when he gives up keeping
+ordinary, he will return there again, though the generally-received
+opinion at Paris was, that he was at one time butler to King
+Pharaoh; and that, after lying asleep for four thousand years in a
+place called the Kattycombs, he was awaked by the sound of Nelson's
+cannon at the battle of the Nile, and going to the shore, took on
+with the admiral, and became, in course of time, ship steward; and
+that after Nelson's death he was captured by the French, on board
+one of whose vessels he served in a somewhat similar capacity till
+the peace, when he came to Paris, and set up an ordinary for
+servants, sticking the name of Katcomb over the door, in allusion
+to the place where he had his long sleep. But, whatever his origin
+was, Jack kept his own counsel, and appeared to care nothing for
+what people said about him, or called him. Yes, I forgot, there
+was one name he would not be called, and that was "Portuguese." I
+once saw Black Jack knock down a coachman, six foot high, who
+called him black-faced Portuguese. "Any name but dat, you shab,"
+said Black Jack, who was a little round fellow, of about five feet
+two; "I would not stand to be called Portuguese by Nelson himself."
+Jack was rather fond of talking about Nelson, and hearing people
+talk about him, so that it is not improbable that he may have
+sailed with him; and with respect to his having been King Pharaoh's
+butler, all I have to say is, I am not disposed to give the
+downright lie to the report. Jack was always ready to do a kind
+turn to a poor servant out of place, and has often been known to
+assist such as were in prison, which charitable disposition he
+perhaps acquired from having lost a good place himself, having seen
+the inside of a prison, and known the want of a meal's victuals,
+all which trials King Pharaoh's butler underwent, so he may have
+been that butler; at any rate, I have known positive conclusions
+come to on no better premisses, if indeed as good. As for the
+story of his coming direct from Satan's kitchen, I place no
+confidence in it at all, as Black Jack had nothing of Satan about
+him but blackness, on which account he was called Black Jack. Nor
+am I disposed to give credit to a report that his hatred of the
+Portuguese arose from some ill treatment which he had once
+experienced when on shore, at Lisbon, from certain gentlewomen of
+the place, but rather conclude that it arose from an opinion he
+entertained that the Portuguese never paid their debts, one of the
+ambassadors of that nation, whose house he had served, having left
+Paris several thousand francs in his debt. This is all that I have
+to say about Black Jack, without whose funny jokes and good
+ordinary I should have passed my time in Paris in a very
+disconsolate manner.
+
+'After we had been at Paris between two and three months, we left
+it in the direction of Italy, which country the family had a great
+desire to see. After travelling a great many days in a thing
+which, though called a diligence, did not exhibit much diligence,
+we came to a great big town, seated around a nasty salt-water
+bason, connected by a narrow passage with the sea. Here we were to
+embark; and so we did as soon as possible, glad enough to get away-
+-at least I was, and so I make no doubt were the rest, for such a
+place for bad smells I never was in. It seems all the drains and
+sewers of the place run into that same salt bason, voiding into it
+all their impurities, which, not being able to escape into the sea
+in any considerable quantity, owing to the narrowness of the
+entrance, there accumulate, filling the whole atmosphere with these
+same outrageous scents, on which account the town is a famous
+lodging-house of the plague. The ship in which we embarked was
+bound for a place in Italy called Naples, where we were to stay
+some time. The voyage was rather a lazy one, the ship not being
+moved by steam; for at the time of which I am speaking, some five
+years ago, steam-ships were not so plentiful as now. There were
+only two passengers in the grand cabin, where my governor and his
+daughters were, an Italian lady and a priest. Of the lady I have
+not much to say; she appeared to be a quiet respectable person
+enough, and after our arrival at Naples I neither saw nor heard
+anything more of her; but of the priest I shall have a good deal to
+say in the sequel (that, by the bye, is a word I learnt from the
+professor of rhetoric), and it would have been well for our family
+had they never met him.
+
+'On the third day of the voyage the priest came to me, who was
+rather unwell with sea-sickness, which he, of course, felt nothing
+of--that kind of people being never affected like others. He was a
+finish-looking man of about forty-five, but had something strange
+in his eyes, which I have since thought denoted that all was not
+right in a certain place called the heart. After a few words of
+condolence, in a broken kind of English, he asked me various
+questions about our family; and I, won by his seeming kindness,
+told him all I knew about them--of which communicativeness I
+afterwards very much repented. As soon as he had got out of me all
+he desired, he left me; and I observed that during the rest of the
+voyage he was wonderfully attentive to our governor, and yet more
+to the young ladies. Both, however, kept him rather at a distance;
+the young ladies were reserved, and once or twice I heard our
+governor cursing him between his teeth for a sharking priest. The
+priest, however, was not disconcerted, and continued his
+attentions, which in a little time produced an effect, so that, by
+the time we landed at Naples, our great folks had conceived a kind
+of liking for the man, and when they took their leave invited him
+to visit them, which he promised to do. We hired a grand house or
+palace at Naples; it belonged to a poor kind of prince, who was
+glad enough to let it to our governor, and also his servants and
+carriages; and glad enough were the poor servants, for they got
+from us what they never got from the prince--plenty of meat and
+money; and glad enough, I make no doubt, were the horses for the
+provender we gave them; and I daresay the coaches were not sorry to
+be cleaned and furbished up. Well, we went out and came in; going
+to see the sights, and returning. Amongst other things we saw was
+the burning mountain, and the tomb of a certain sorcerer called
+Virgilio, who made witch rhymes, by which he could raise the dead.
+Plenty of people came to see us, both English and Italians, and
+amongst the rest the priest. He did not come amongst the first,
+but allowed us to settle and become a little quiet before he showed
+himself; and after a day or two he paid us another visit, then
+another, till at last his visits were daily.
+
+'I did not like that Jack Priest; so I kept my eye upon all his
+motions. Lord! how that Jack Priest did curry favour with our
+governor and the two young ladies; and he curried, and curried,
+till he had got himself into favour with the governor, and more
+especially with the two young ladies, of whom their father was
+doatingly fond. At last the ladies took lessons in Italian of the
+priest, a language in which he was said to be a grand proficient,
+and of which they had hitherto known but very little; and from that
+time his influence over them, and consequently over the old
+governor, increased, till the tables were turned, and he no longer
+curried favour with them, but they with him--yes, as true as my leg
+aches, the young ladies curried, and the old governor curried
+favour with that same priest; when he was with them, they seemed
+almost to hang on his lips, that is, the young ladies; and as for
+the old governor, he never contradicted him, and when the fellow
+was absent, which, by the bye, was not often, it was, "Father so-
+and-so said this," and "Father so-and-so said that"; "Father so-
+and-so thinks we should do so-and-so, or that we should not do so-
+and-so." I at first thought that he must have given them
+something, some philtre or the like, but one of the English maid-
+servants, who had a kind of respect for me, and who saw much more
+behind the scenes than I did, informed me that he was continually
+instilling strange notions into their heads, striving, by every
+possible method, to make them despise the religion of their own
+land, and take up that of the foreign country in which they were.
+And sure enough, in a little time, the girls had altogether left
+off going to an English chapel, and were continually visiting
+places of Italian worship. The old governor, it is true, still
+went to his church, but he appeared to be hesitating between two
+opinions; and once, when he was at dinner, he said to two or three
+English friends that, since he had become better acquainted with
+it, he had conceived a much more favourable opinion of the Catholic
+religion than he had previously entertained. In a word, the priest
+ruled the house, and everything was done according to his will and
+pleasure; by degrees he persuaded the young ladies to drop their
+English acquaintances, whose place he supplied with Italians,
+chiefly females. My poor old governor would not have had a person
+to speak to--for he never could learn the language--but for two or
+three Englishmen who used to come occasionally and take a bottle
+with him in a summer-house, whose company he could not be persuaded
+to resign, notwithstanding the entreaties of his daughters,
+instigated by the priest, whose grand endeavour seemed to be to
+render the minds of all three foolish, for his own ends. And if he
+was busy above stairs with the governor, there was another busy
+below with us poor English servants, a kind of subordinate priest,
+a low Italian; as he could speak no language but his own, he was
+continually jabbering to us in that, and by hearing him the maids
+and myself contrived to pick up a good deal of the language, so
+that we understood most that was said, and could speak it very
+fairly; and the themes of his jabber were the beauty and virtues of
+one whom he called Holy Mary, and the power and grandeur of one
+whom he called the Holy Father; and he told us that we should
+shortly have an opportunity of seeing the Holy Father, who could do
+anything he liked with Holy Mary: in the meantime we had plenty of
+opportunities of seeing Holy Mary, for in every church, chapel, and
+convent to which we were taken, there was an image of Holy Mary,
+who, if the images were dressed at all in her fashion, must have
+been very fond of short petticoats and tinsel, and who, if those
+said figures at all resembled her in face, could scarcely have been
+half as handsome as either of my two fellow-servants, not to speak
+of the young ladies.
+
+'Now it happened that one of the female servants was much taken
+with what she saw and heard, and gave herself up entirely to the
+will of the subordinate, who had quite as much dominion over her as
+his superior had over the ladies; the other maid, however, the one
+who had a kind of respect for me, was not so easily besotted; she
+used to laugh at what she saw, and at what the fellow told her, and
+from her I learnt that amongst other things intended by these
+priestly confederates was robbery; she said that the poor old
+governor had already been persuaded by his daughters to put more
+than a thousand pounds into the superior priest's hands for
+purposes of charity and religion, as was said, and that the
+subordinate one had already inveigled her fellow-servant out of
+every penny which she had saved from her wages, and had endeavoured
+likewise to obtain what money she herself had, but in vain. With
+respect to myself, the fellow shortly after made an attempt towards
+obtaining a hundred crowns, of which, by some means, he knew me to
+be in possession, telling me what a meritorious thing it was to
+give one's superfluities for the purposes of religion. "That is
+true," said I, "and if, after my return to my native country, I
+find I have anything which I don't want myself, I will employ it in
+helping to build a Methodist chapel."
+
+'By the time that the three months were expired for which we had
+hired the palace of the needy Prince, the old governor began to
+talk of returning to England, at least of leaving Italy. I believe
+he had become frightened at the calls which were continually being
+made upon him for money; for after all, you know, if there is a
+sensitive part of a man's wearing apparel, it is his breeches
+pocket; but the young ladies could not think of leaving dear Italy
+and the dear priest; and then they had seen nothing of the country,
+they had only seen Naples; before leaving dear Italia they must see
+more of the country and the cities; above all, they must see a
+place which they called the Eternal City, or some similar
+nonsensical name; and they persisted so that the poor governor
+permitted them, as usual, to have their way; and it was decided
+what route they should take--that is, the priest was kind enough to
+decide for them, and was also kind enough to promise to go with
+them part of the route, as far as a place where there was a
+wonderful figure of Holy Mary, which the priest said it was highly
+necessary for them to see before visiting the Eternal City: so we
+left Naples in hired carriages, driven by fellows they call
+veturini, cheating, drunken dogs, I remember they were. Besides
+our own family there was the priest and his subordinate, and a
+couple of hired lackeys. We were several days upon the journey,
+travelling through a very wild country, which the ladies pretended
+to be delighted with, and which the governor cursed on account of
+the badness of the roads; and when we came to any particularly wild
+spot we used to stop, in order to enjoy the scenery, as the ladies
+said; and then we would spread a horse-cloth on the ground, and eat
+bread and cheese, and drink wine of the country. And some of the
+holes and corners in which we bivouacked, as the ladies called it,
+were something like this place where we are now, so that when I
+came down here it put me in mind of them. At last we arrived at
+the place where was the holy image.
+
+'We went to the house or chapel in which the holy image was kept--a
+frightful, ugly black figure of Holy Mary, dressed in her usual
+way; and after we had stared at the figure, and some of our party
+had bowed down to it, we were shown a great many things which were
+called holy relics, which consisted of thumb-nails, and fore-nails,
+and toe-nails, and hair, and teeth, and a feather or two, and a
+mighty thigh-bone, but whether of a man or a camel I can't say; all
+of which things, I was told, if properly touched and handled, had
+mighty power to cure all kinds of disorders. And as we went from
+the holy house we saw a man in a state of great excitement: he was
+foaming at the mouth, and cursing the holy image and all its
+household, because, after he had worshipped it and made offerings
+to it, and besought it to assist him in a game of chance which he
+was about to play, it had left him in the lurch, allowing him to
+lose all his money. And when I thought of all the rubbish I had
+seen, and the purposes which it was applied to, in conjunction with
+the rage of the losing gamester at the deaf and dumb image, I could
+not help comparing the whole with what my poor brother used to tell
+me of the superstitious practices of the blacks on the high Barbary
+shore, and their occasional rage and fury at the things they
+worshipped; and I said to myself, If all this here doesn't smell of
+fetish, may I smell fetid.
+
+'At this place the priest left us, returning to Naples with his
+subordinate, on some particular business I suppose. It was,
+however, agreed that he should visit us at the Holy City. We did
+not go direct to the Holy City, but bent our course to two or three
+other cities which the family were desirous of seeing; but as
+nothing occurred to us in these places of any particular interest,
+I shall take the liberty of passing them by in silence. At length
+we arrived at the Eternal City: an immense city it was, looking as
+if it had stood for a long time, and would stand for a long time
+still; compared with it, London would look like a mere assemblage
+of bee-skeps; however, give me the bee-skeps with their merry hum
+and bustle, and life and honey, rather than that huge town, which
+looked like a sepulchre, where there was no life, no busy hum, no
+bees, but a scanty sallow population, intermixed with black
+priests, white priests, gray priests; and though I don't say there
+was no honey in the place, for I believe there was, I am ready to
+take my Bible oath that it was not made there, and that the priests
+kept it all for themselves.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XCIX
+
+
+
+A cloister--Half English--New acquaintance--Mixed liquors--Turning
+Papist--Purposes of charity--Foreign religion--Melancholy--Elbowing
+and pushing--Outlandish sight--The figure--I don't care for you--
+Merry-andrews--One good--Religion of my country--Fellow of spirit--
+A dispute--The next morning--Female doll--Proper dignity--Fetish
+country.
+
+'The day after our arrival,' continued the postilion, 'I was sent,
+under the guidance of a lackey of the place, with a letter, which
+the priest, when he left, had given us for a friend of his in the
+Eternal City. We went to a large house, and on ringing were
+admitted by a porter into a cloister, where I saw some ill-looking,
+shabby young fellows walking about, who spoke English to one
+another. To one of these the porter delivered the letter, and the
+young fellow, going away, presently returned and told me to follow
+him; he led me into a large room where, behind a table on which
+were various papers and a thing which they call, in that country, a
+crucifix, sat a man in a kind of priestly dress. The lad having
+opened the door for me, shut it behind me, and went away. The man
+behind the table was so engaged in reading the letter which I had
+brought, that at first he took no notice of me; he had red hair, a
+kind of half-English countenance, and was seemingly about five-and-
+thirty. After a little time he laid the letter down, appeared to
+consider a moment, and then opened his mouth with a strange laugh,
+not a loud laugh, for I heard nothing but a kind of hissing deep
+down the throat; all of a sudden, however, perceiving me, he gave a
+slight start, but, instantly recovering himself, he inquired in
+English concerning the health of the family, and where we lived:
+on my delivering him a card, he bade me inform my master and the
+ladies that in the course of the day he would do himself the honour
+of waiting upon them. He then arose and opened the door for me to
+depart. The man was perfectly civil and courteous, but I did not
+like that strange laugh of his after having read the letter. He
+was as good as his word, and that same day paid us a visit. It was
+now arranged that we should pass the winter in Rome--to my great
+annoyance, for I wished to return to my native land, being heartily
+tired of everything connected with Italy. I was not, however,
+without hope that our young master would shortly arrive, when I
+trusted that matters, as far as the family were concerned, would be
+put on a better footing. In a few days our new acquaintance, who,
+it seems, was a mongrel Englishman, had procured a house for our
+accommodation; it was large enough, but not near so pleasant as
+that we had at Naples, which was light and airy, with a large
+garden. This was a dark gloomy structure in a narrow street, with
+a frowning church beside it; it was not far from the place where
+our new friend lived, and its being so was probably the reason why
+he selected it. It was furnished partly with articles which we
+bought, and partly with those which we hired. We lived something
+in the same way as at Naples; but though I did not much like
+Naples, I yet liked it better than this place, which was so gloomy.
+Our new acquaintance made himself as agreeable as he could,
+conducting the ladies to churches and convents, and frequently
+passing the afternoon drinking with the governor, who was fond of a
+glass of brandy and water and a cigar, as the new acquaintance also
+was--no, I remember, he was fond of gin and water, and did not
+smoke. I don't think he had so much influence over the young
+ladies as the other priest, which was, perhaps, owing to his not
+being so good-looking; but I am sure he had more influence with the
+governor, owing, doubtless, to his bearing him company in drinking
+mixed liquors, which the other priest did not do.
+
+'He was a strange fellow, that same new acquaintance of ours, and
+unlike all the priests I saw in that country, and I saw plenty of
+various nations; they were always upon their guard, and had their
+features and voice modulated; but this man was subject to fits of
+absence, during which he would frequently mutter to himself, then,
+though he was perfectly civil to everybody, as far as words went, I
+observed that he entertained a thorough contempt for most people,
+especially for those whom he was making dupes. I have observed him
+whilst drinking with our governor, when the old man's head was
+turned, look at him with an air which seemed to say, "What a
+thundering old fool you are"; and at our young ladies, when their
+backs were turned, with a glance which said distinctly enough, "You
+precious pair of ninnyhammers"; and then his laugh--he had two
+kinds of laughs--one which you could hear, and another which you
+could only see. I have seen him laugh at our governor and the
+young ladies, when their heads were turned away, but I heard no
+sound. My mother had a sandy cat, which sometimes used to open its
+mouth wide with a mew which nobody could hear, and the silent laugh
+of that red-haired priest used to put me wonderfully in mind of the
+silent mew of my mother's sandy-red cat. And then the other laugh,
+which you could hear; what a strange laugh that was, never loud,
+yes, I have heard it tolerably loud. He once passed near me, after
+having taken leave of a silly English fellow--a limping parson of
+the name of Platitude, who, they said, was thinking of turning
+Papist, and was much in his company; I was standing behind the
+pillar of a piazza, and as he passed he was laughing heartily. O
+he was a strange fellow, that same red-haired acquaintance of ours!
+
+'After we had been at Rome about six weeks our old friend the
+priest of Naples arrived, but without his subordinate, for whose
+services he now perhaps thought that he had no occasion. I believe
+he found matters in our family wearing almost as favourable an
+aspect as he could desire: with what he had previously taught them
+and shown them at Naples and elsewhere, and with what the red-
+haired confederate had taught them and shown them at Rome, the poor
+young ladies had become quite handmaids of superstition, so that
+they, especially the youngest, were prepared to bow down to
+anything, and kiss anything, however vile and ugly, provided a
+priest commanded them; and as for the old governor, what with the
+influence which his daughters exerted, and what with the ascendency
+which the red-haired man had obtained over him, he dared not say
+his purse, far less his soul, was his own. Only think of an
+Englishman not being master of his own purse! My acquaintance, the
+lady's maid, assured me that, to her certain knowledge, he had
+disbursed to the red-haired man, for purposes of charity, as it was
+said, at least one thousand pounds during the five weeks we had
+been at Rome. She also told me that things would shortly be
+brought to a conclusion--and so indeed they were, though in a
+different manner from what she and I and some other people
+imagined; that there was to be a grand festival, and a mass, at
+which we were to be present, after which the family were to be
+presented to the Holy Father, for so those two priestly sharks had
+managed it; and then . . . she said she was certain that the two
+ladies, and perhaps the old governor, would forsake the religion of
+their native land, taking up with that of these foreign regions,
+for so my fellow-servant expressed it, and that perhaps attempts
+might be made to induce us poor English servants to take up with
+the foreign religion, that is herself and me, for as for our
+fellow-servant, the other maid, she wanted no inducing, being
+disposed body and soul to go over to it. Whereupon I swore with an
+oath that nothing should induce me to take up with the foreign
+religion; and the poor maid, my fellow-servant, bursting into
+tears, said that for her part she would die sooner than have
+anything to do with it; thereupon we shook hands and agreed to
+stand by and countenance one another: and moreover, provided our
+governors were fools enough to go over to the religion of these
+here foreigners, we would not wait to be asked to do the like, but
+leave them at once, and make the best of our way home, even if we
+were forced to beg on the road.
+
+'At last the day of the grand festival came, and we were all to go
+to the big church to hear the mass. Now it happened that for some
+time past I had been much afflicted with melancholy, especially
+when I got up of a morning, produced by the strange manner in which
+I saw things going on in our family; and to dispel it in some
+degree, I had been in the habit of taking a dram before breakfast.
+On the morning in question, feeling particularly low spirited when
+I thought of the foolish step our governor would probably take
+before evening, I took two drams before breakfast; and after
+breakfast, feeling my melancholy still continuing, I took another,
+which produced a slight effect upon my head, though I am convinced
+nobody observed it.
+
+'Away we drove to the big church; it was a dark misty day, I
+remember, and very cold, so that if anybody had noticed my being
+slightly in liquor, I could have excused myself by saying that I
+had merely taken a glass to fortify my constitution against the
+weather; and of one thing I am certain, which is, that such an
+excuse would have stood me in stead with our governor, who looked,
+I thought, as if he had taken one too; but I may be mistaken, and
+why should I notice him, seeing that he took no notice of me? so
+away we drove to the big church, to which all the population of the
+place appeared to be moving.
+
+'On arriving there we dismounted, and the two priests, who were
+with us, led the family in, whilst I followed at a little distance,
+but quickly lost them amidst the throng of people. I made my way,
+however, though in what direction I knew not, except it was one in
+which everybody seemed striving, and by dint of elbowing and
+pushing I at last got to a place which looked like the aisle of a
+cathedral, where the people stood in two rows, a space between
+being kept open by certain strangely-dressed men who moved up and
+down with rods in their hands; all were looking to the upper end of
+this place or aisle; and at the upper end, separated from the
+people by palings like those of an altar, sat in magnificent-
+looking stalls, on the right and the left, various wonderful-
+looking individuals in scarlet dresses. At the farther end was
+what appeared to be an altar, on the left hand was a pulpit, and on
+the right a stall higher than any of the rest, where was a figure
+whom I could scarcely see.
+
+'I can't pretend to describe what I saw exactly, for my head, which
+was at first rather flurried, had become more so from the efforts
+which I had made to get through the crowd; also from certain
+singing, which proceeded from I know not where; and, above all,
+from the bursts of an organ, which were occasionally so loud that I
+thought the roof, which was painted with wondrous colours, would
+come toppling down on those below. So there stood I--a poor
+English servant--in that outlandish place, in the midst of that
+foreign crowd, looking at that outlandish sight, hearing those
+outlandish sounds, and occasionally glancing at our party, which,
+by this time, I distinguished at the opposite side to where I
+stood, but much nearer the place where the red figures sat. Yes,
+there stood our poor governor and the sweet young ladies, and I
+thought they never looked so handsome before; and close by them
+were the sharking priests, and not far from them was that idiotical
+parson Platitude, winking and grinning, and occasionally lifting up
+his hands as if in ecstasy at what he saw and heard, so that he
+drew upon himself the notice of the congregation.
+
+'And now an individual mounted the pulpit, and began to preach in a
+language which I did not understand, but which I believe to be
+Latin, addressing himself seemingly to the figure in the stall; and
+when he had ceased, there was more singing, more organ-playing, and
+then two men in robes brought forth two things which they held up;
+and then the people bowed their heads, and our poor governor bowed
+his head, and the sweet young ladies bowed their heads, and the
+sharking priests, whilst the idiotical parson Platitude tried to
+fling himself down; and then there were various evolutions
+withinside the pale, and the scarlet figures got up and sat down;
+and this kind of thing continued for some time. At length the
+figure which I had seen in the principal stall came forth and
+advanced towards the people; an awful figure he was, a huge old man
+with a sugar-loaf hat, with a sulphur-coloured dress, and holding a
+crook in his hand like that of a shepherd; and as he advanced the
+people fell on their knees, our poor old governor amongst them; the
+sweet young ladies, the sharking priests, the idiotical parson
+Platitude, all fell on their knees, and somebody or other tried to
+pull me on my knees; but by this time I had become outrageous; all
+that my poor brother used to tell me of the superstitions of the
+high Barbary shore rushed into my mind, and I thought they were
+acting them over here; above all, the idea that the sweet young
+ladies, to say nothing of my poor old governor, were, after the
+conclusion of all this mummery, going to deliver themselves up body
+and soul into the power of that horrid-looking old man, maddened
+me, and, rushing forward into the open space, I confronted the
+horrible-looking old figure with the sugar-loaf hat, the sulphur-
+coloured garments, and shepherd's crook, and shaking my fist at his
+nose, I bellowed out in English -
+
+'"I don't care for you, old Mumbo Jumbo, though you have fetish!"
+
+'I can scarcely tell you what occurred for some time. I have a dim
+recollection that hands were laid upon me, and that I struck out
+violently left and right. On coming to myself, I was seated on a
+stone bench in a large room, something like a guard-room, in the
+custody of certain fellows dressed like Merry-andrews; they were
+bluff, good-looking, wholesome fellows, very different from the
+sallow Italians: they were looking at me attentively, and
+occasionally talking to each other in a language which sounded very
+like the cracking of walnuts in the mouth, very different from
+cooing Italian. At last one of them asked me in Italian what had
+ailed me, to which I replied, in an incoherent manner, something
+about Mumbo Jumbo; whereupon the fellow, one of the bluffest of the
+lot, a jovial rosy-faced rascal, lifted up his right hand, placing
+it in such a manner that the lips were between the fore-finger and
+thumb, then lifting up his right foot and drawing back his head, he
+sucked in his breath with a hissing sound, as if to imitate one
+drinking a hearty draught, and then slapped me on the shoulder,
+saying something which sounded like goot wine, goot companion,
+whereupon they all laughed, exclaiming, ya, ya, goot companion.
+And now hurried into the room our poor old governor, with the red-
+haired priest. The first asked what could have induced me to
+behave in such a manner in such a place, to which I replied that I
+was not going to bow down to Mumbo Jumbo, whatever other people
+might do. Whereupon my master said he believed I was mad, and the
+priest said he believed I was drunk; to which I answered that I was
+neither so mad nor drunk but I could distinguish how the wind lay.
+Whereupon they left me, and in a little time I was told by the
+bluff-looking Merry-andrews I was at liberty to depart. I believe
+the priest, in order to please my governor, interceded for me in
+high quarters.
+
+'But one good resulted from this affair; there was no presentation
+of our family to the Holy Father, for old Mumbo was so frightened
+by my outrageous looks that he was laid up for a week, as I was
+afterwards informed.
+
+'I went home, and had scarcely been there half an hour when I was
+sent for by the governor, who again referred to the scene in
+church, said that he could not tolerate such scandalous behaviour,
+and that unless I promised to be more circumspect in future, he
+should be compelled to discharge me. I said that if he was
+scandalised at my behaviour in the church, I was more scandalised
+at all I saw going on in the family, which was governed by two
+rascally priests, who, not content with plundering him, appeared
+bent on hurrying the souls of us all to destruction; and that with
+respect to discharging me, he could do so that moment, as I wished
+to go. I believe his own reason told him that I was right, for he
+made no direct answer, but, after looking on the ground for some
+time, he told me to leave him. As he did not tell me to leave the
+house, I went to my room, intending to lie down for an hour or two;
+but scarcely was I there when the door opened, and in came the red-
+haired priest. He showed himself, as he always did, perfectly
+civil, asked me how I was, took a chair and sat down. After a hem
+or two he entered into a long conversation on the excellence of
+what he called the Catholic religion; told me that he hoped I would
+not set myself against the light, and likewise against my interest;
+for that the family were about to embrace the Catholic religion,
+and would make it worth my while to follow their example. I told
+him that the family might do what they pleased, but that I would
+never forsake the religion of my country for any consideration
+whatever; that I was nothing but a poor servant, but I was not to
+be bought by base gold. "I admire your honourable feelings," said
+he, "you shall have no gold; and as I see you are a fellow of
+spirit, and do not like being a servant, for which I commend you, I
+can promise you something better. I have a good deal of influence
+in this place, and if you will not set your face against the light,
+but embrace the Catholic religion, I will undertake to make your
+fortune. You remember those fine fellows to-day who took you into
+custody, they are the guards of his Holiness. I have no doubt that
+I have interest enough to procure your enrolment amongst them."
+"What," said I, "become swashbuckler to Mumbo Jumbo up here! May I
+. . ."--and here I swore--"if I do. The mere possibility of one of
+their children being swashbuckler to Mumbo Jumbo on the high
+Barbary shore has always been a source of heart-breaking to my poor
+parents. What, then, would they not undergo, if they knew for
+certain that their other child was swashbuckler to Mumbo Jumbo up
+here?" Thereupon he asked me, even as you did some time ago, what
+I meant by Mumbo Jumbo. And I told him all I had heard about the
+Mumbo Jumbo of the high Barbary shore; telling him that I had no
+doubt that the old fellow up here was his brother, or nearly
+related to him. The man with the red hair listened with the
+greatest attention to all I said, and when I had concluded, he got
+up, nodded to me, and moved to the door; ere he reached the door I
+saw his shoulders shaking, and as he closed it behind him I heard
+him distinctly laughing, to the tune of--he! he! he!
+
+'But now matters began to mend. That same evening my young master
+unexpectedly arrived. I believe he soon perceived that something
+extraordinary had been going on in the family. He was for some
+time closeted with the governor, with whom, I believe, he had a
+dispute; for my fellow-servant, the lady's maid, informed me that
+she heard high words.
+
+'Rather late at night the young gentleman sent for me into his
+room, and asked me various questions with respect to what had been
+going on, and my behaviour in the church, of which he had heard
+something. I told him all I knew with respect to the intrigues of
+the two priests in the family, and gave him a circumstantial
+account of all that had occurred in the church; adding that, under
+similar circumstances, I was ready to play the same part over
+again. Instead of blaming me, he commended my behaviour, told me I
+was a fine fellow, and said he hoped that, if he wanted my
+assistance, I would stand by him: this I promised to do. Before I
+left him, he entreated me to inform him the very next time I saw
+the priests entering the house.
+
+'The next morning, as I was in the courtyard, where I had placed
+myself to watch, I saw the two enter and make their way up a
+private stair to the young ladies' apartment; they were attended by
+a man dressed something like a priest, who bore a large box; I
+instantly ran to relate what I had seen to my young master. I
+found him shaving. "I will just finish what I am about," said he,
+"and then wait upon these gentlemen." He finished what he was
+about with great deliberation; then taking a horsewhip, and bidding
+me follow him, he proceeded at once to the door of his sisters'
+apartment: finding it fastened, he burst it open at once with his
+foot and entered, followed by myself. There we beheld the two
+unfortunate young ladies down on their knees before a large female
+doll, dressed up, as usual, in rags and tinsel; the two priests
+were standing near, one on either side, with their hands uplifted,
+whilst the fellow who brought the trumpery stood a little way down
+the private stair, the door of which stood open; without a moment's
+hesitation, my young master rushed forward, gave the image a cut or
+two with his horsewhip--then flying at the priests, he gave them a
+sound flogging, kicked them down the private stair, and spurned the
+man, box and image after them--then locking the door, he gave his
+sisters a fine sermon, in which he represented to them their folly
+in worshipping a silly wooden graven image, which, though it had
+eyes, could see not; though it had ears, could hear not; though it
+had hands, could not help itself; and though it had feet, could not
+move about unless it were carried. Oh, it was a fine sermon that
+my young master preached, and sorry I am that the Father of the
+Fetish, old Mumbo, did not hear it. The elder sister looked
+ashamed, but the youngest, who was very weak, did nothing but wring
+her hands, weep and bewail the injury which had been done to the
+dear image. The young man, however, without paying much regard to
+either of them, went to his father, with whom he had a long
+conversation, which terminated in the old governor giving orders
+for preparations to be made for the family's leaving Rome and
+returning to England. I believe that the old governor was glad of
+his son's arrival, and rejoiced at the idea of getting away from
+Italy, where he had been so plundered and imposed upon. The
+priests, however, made another attempt upon the poor young ladies.
+By the connivance of the female servant who was in their interest
+they found their way once more into their apartment, bringing with
+them the fetish image, whose body they partly stripped, exhibiting
+upon it certain sanguine marks which they had daubed upon it with
+red paint, but which they said were the result of the lashes which
+it had received from the horsewhip. The youngest girl believed all
+they said, and kissed and embraced the dear image; but the eldest,
+whose eyes had been opened by her brother, to whom she was much
+attached, behaved with proper dignity; for, going to the door, she
+called the female servant who had a respect for me, and in her
+presence reproached the two deceivers for their various impudent
+cheats, and especially for this their last attempt at imposition;
+adding that if they did not forthwith withdraw and rid her sister
+and herself of their presence, she would send word by her maid to
+her brother, who would presently take effectual means to expel
+them. They took the hint and departed, and we saw no more of them.
+
+'At the end of three days we departed from Rome, but the maid whom
+the priests had cajoled remained behind, and it is probable that
+the youngest of our ladies would have done the same thing if she
+could have had her own will, for she was continually raving about
+her image, and saying she should wish to live with it in a convent;
+but we watched the poor thing, and got her on board ship. Oh, glad
+was I to leave that fetish country and old Mumbo behind me!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER C
+
+
+
+Nothing but gloom--Sporting character--Gouty Tory--Servants' Club--
+Politics--Reformado footman--Peroration--Good-night.
+
+'We arrived in England, and went to our country seat, but the peace
+and tranquillity of the family had been marred, and I no longer
+found my place the pleasant one which it had formerly been; there
+was nothing but gloom in the house, for the youngest daughter
+exhibited signs of lunacy, and was obliged to be kept under
+confinement. The next season I attended my master, his son, and
+eldest daughter to London, as I had previously done. There I left
+them, for hearing that a young baronet, an acquaintance of the
+family, wanted a servant, I applied for the place, with the consent
+of my masters, both of whom gave me a strong recommendation; and,
+being approved of, I went to live with him.
+
+'My new master was what is called a sporting character, very fond
+of the turf, upon which he was not very fortunate. He was
+frequently very much in want of money, and my wages were anything
+but regularly paid; nevertheless, I liked him very much, for he
+treated me more like a friend than a domestic, continually
+consulting me as to his affairs. At length he was brought nearly
+to his last shifts, by backing the favourite at the Derby, which
+favourite turned out a regular brute, being found nowhere at the
+rush. Whereupon, he and I had a solemn consultation over fourteen
+glasses of brandy and water, and as many cigars--I mean, between
+us--as to what was to be done. He wished to start a coach, in
+which event he was to be driver, and I guard. He was quite
+competent to drive a coach, being a first-rate whip, and I daresay
+I should have made a first-rate guard; but, to start a coach
+requires money, and we neither of us believed that anybody would
+trust us with vehicles and horses, so that idea was laid aside. We
+then debated as to whether or not he should go into the Church; but
+to go into the Church--at any rate to become a dean or bishop,
+which would have been our aim--it is necessary for a man to possess
+some education; and my master, although he had been at the best
+school in England, that is, the most expensive, and also at
+College, was almost totally illiterate, so we let the Church scheme
+follow that of the coach. At last, bethinking me that he was
+tolerably glib at the tongue, as most people are who are addicted
+to the turf, also a great master of slang; remembering also that he
+had a crabbed old uncle, who had some borough interest, I proposed
+that he should get into the House, promising in one fortnight to
+qualify him to make a figure in it, by certain lessons which I
+would give him. He consented; and during the next fortnight I did
+little else than give him lessons in elocution, following to a
+tittle the method of the great professor, which I had picked up,
+listening behind the door. At the end of that period we paid a
+visit to his relation, an old gouty Tory, who at first received us
+very coolly. My master, however, by flattering a predilection of
+his for Billy Pitt, soon won his affections so much that he
+promised to bring him into Parliament; and in less than a month was
+as good as his word. My master, partly by his own qualifications,
+and partly by the assistance which he had derived, and still
+occasionally derived, from me, cut a wonderful figure in the House,
+and was speedily considered one of the most promising speakers; he
+was always a good hand at promising--he is at present, I believe, a
+Cabinet minister.
+
+'But as he got up in the world he began to look down on me. I
+believe he was ashamed of the obligation under which he lay to me;
+and at last, requiring no further hints as to oratory from a poor
+servant like me, he took an opportunity of quarrelling with me and
+discharging me. However, as he had still some grace, he
+recommended me to a gentleman with whom, since he had attached
+himself to politics, he had formed an acquaintance, the editor of a
+grand Tory Review. I lost caste terribly amongst the servants for
+entering the service of a person connected with a profession so
+mean as literature; and it was proposed at the Servants' Club, in
+Park Lane, to eject me from that society. The proposition,
+however, was not carried into effect, and I was permitted to show
+myself among them, though few condescended to take much notice of
+me. My master was one of the best men in the world, but also one
+of the most sensitive. On his veracity being impugned by the
+editor of a newspaper, he called him out, and shot him through the
+arm. Though servants are seldom admirers of their masters, I was a
+great admirer of mine, and eager to follow his example. The day
+after the encounter, on my veracity being impugned by the servant
+of Lord C- in something I said in praise of my master, I determined
+to call him out; so I went into another room and wrote a challenge.
+But whom should I send it by? Several servants to whom I applied
+refused to be the bearers of it; they said I had lost caste, and
+they could not think of going out with me. At length the servant
+of the Duke of B- consented to take it; but he made me to
+understand that, though he went out with me, he did so merely
+because he despised the Whiggish principles of Lord C-'s servant,
+and that if I thought he intended to associate with me I should be
+mistaken. Politics, I must tell you, at that time ran as high
+amongst the servants as the gentlemen, the servants, however, being
+almost invariably opposed to the politics of their respective
+masters, though both parties agreed in one point, the scouting of
+everything low and literary, though I think, of the two, the
+liberal or reform party were the most inveterate. So he took my
+challenge, which was accepted; we went out, Lord C-'s servant being
+seconded by a reformado footman from the palace. We fired three
+times without effect; but this affair lost me my place; my master
+on hearing it forthwith discharged me; he was, as I have said
+before, very sensitive, and he said this duel of mine was a parody
+of his own. Being, however, one of the best men in the world, on
+his discharging me he made me a donation of twenty pounds.
+
+'And it was well that he made me this present, for without it I
+should have been penniless, having contracted rather expensive
+habits during the time that I lived with the young baronet. I now
+determined to visit my parents, whom I had not seen for years. I
+found them in good health, and, after staying with them for two
+months, I returned again in the direction of town, walking, in
+order to see the country. On the second day of my journey, not
+being used to such fatigue, I fell ill at a great inn on the north
+road, and there I continued for some weeks till I recovered, but by
+that time my money was entirely spent. By living at the inn I had
+contracted an acquaintance with the master and the people, and
+become accustomed to inn life. As I thought that I might find some
+difficulty in procuring any desirable situation in London, owing to
+my late connection with literature, I determined to remain where I
+was, provided my services would be accepted. I offered them to the
+master, who, finding I knew something of horses, engaged me as a
+postilion. I have remained there since. You have now heard my
+story.
+
+'Stay, you shan't say that I told my tale without a per--
+peroration. What shall it be? Oh, I remember something which will
+serve for one. As I was driving my chaise some weeks ago, I saw
+standing at the gate of an avenue, which led up to an old mansion,
+a figure which I thought I recognised. I looked at it attentively,
+and the figure, as I passed, looked at me; whether it remembered me
+I do not know, but I recognised the face it showed me full well.
+
+'If it was not the identical face of the red-haired priest whom I
+had seen at Rome, may I catch cold!
+
+'Young gentleman, I will now take a spell on your blanket--young
+lady, good-night.'
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LAVENGRO ***
+
+This file should be named lvgro10.txt or lvgro10.zip
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, lvgro11.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, lvgro10a.txt
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+http://gutenberg.net or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04
+
+Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+ 1 1971 July
+ 10 1991 January
+ 100 1994 January
+ 1000 1997 August
+ 1500 1998 October
+ 2000 1999 December
+ 2500 2000 December
+ 3000 2001 November
+ 4000 2001 October/November
+ 6000 2002 December*
+ 9000 2003 November*
+10000 2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+PMB 113
+1739 University Ave.
+Oxford, MS 38655-4109
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this
+ requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+ eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however,
+ if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+ binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+ including any form resulting from conversion by word
+ processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+ *EITHER*:
+
+ [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+ does *not* contain characters other than those
+ intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+ (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+ be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+ author, and additional characters may be used to
+ indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+ [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+ no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+ form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+ the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+ OR
+
+ [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+ no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+ eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+ or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+ "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+ gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+ already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you
+ don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are
+ payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+ the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+ legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+ periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to
+ let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+
diff --git a/old/lvgro10.zip b/old/lvgro10.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..28f1089
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/lvgro10.zip
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/lvgro10h.htm b/old/lvgro10h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ab88d77
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/lvgro10h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,24250 @@
+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII">
+<title>Lavengro</title>
+</head>
+<body>
+<h2>
+<a href="#startoftext">Lavengro, by George Borrow</a>
+</h2>
+<pre>
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lavengro, by George Borrow
+(#3 in our series by George Borrow)
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Lavengro
+
+Author: George Borrow
+
+Release Date: March, 1996 [EBook #452]
+[This file was first posted on January 11, 1996]
+[Most recently updated: August 18, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+</pre>
+<p>
+<a name="startoftext"></a>
+Transcribed from the 1900 Macmillian and Co. Edition by David Price,
+email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+LAVENGRO<br>
+THE SCHOLAR, THE GYPSY, THE PRIEST<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+PREFACE<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+In the following pages I have endeavoured to describe a dream, partly
+of study, partly of adventure, in which will be found copious notices
+of books, and many descriptions of life and manners, some in a very
+unusual form.<br>
+<br>
+The scenes of action lie in the British Islands; - pray be not displeased,
+gentle reader, if perchance thou hast imagined that I was about to conduct
+thee to distant lands, and didst promise thyself much instruction and
+entertainment from what I might tell thee of them.&nbsp; I do assure
+thee that thou hast no reason to be displeased, inasmuch as there are
+no countries in the world less known by the British than these selfsame
+British Islands, or where more strange things are every day occurring,
+whether in road or street, house or dingle.<br>
+<br>
+The time embraces nearly the first quarter of the present century: this
+information again may, perhaps, be anything but agreeable to thee; it
+is a long time to revert to, but fret not thyself, many matters which
+at present much occupy the public mind originated in some degree towards
+the latter end of that period, and some of them will be treated of.<br>
+<br>
+The principal actors in this dream, or drama, are, as you will have
+gathered from the title-page, a Scholar, a Gypsy, and a Priest.&nbsp;
+Should you imagine that these three form one, permit me to assure you
+that you are very much mistaken.&nbsp; Should there be something of
+the Gypsy manifest in the Scholar, there is certainly nothing of the
+Priest.&nbsp; With respect to the Gypsy - decidedly the most entertaining
+character of the three - there is certainly nothing of the Scholar or
+the Priest in him; and as for the Priest, though there may be something
+in him both of scholarship and gypsyism, neither the Scholar nor the
+Gypsy would feel at all flattered by being confounded with him.<br>
+<br>
+Many characters which may be called subordinate will be found, and it
+is probable that some of these characters will afford much more interest
+to the reader than those styled the principal.&nbsp; The favourites
+with the writer are a brave old soldier and his helpmate, an ancient
+gentlewoman who sold apples, and a strange kind of wandering man and
+his wife.<br>
+<br>
+Amongst the many things attempted in this book is the encouragement
+of charity, and free and genial manners, and the exposure of humbug,
+of which there are various kinds, but of which the most perfidious,
+the most debasing, and the most cruel, is the humbug of the Priest.<br>
+<br>
+Yet let no one think that irreligion is advocated in this book.&nbsp;
+With respect to religious tenets I wish to observe that I am a member
+of the Church of England, into whose communion I was baptized, and to
+which my forefathers belonged.&nbsp; Its being the religion in which
+I was baptized, and of my forefathers, would be a strong inducement
+to me to cling to it; for I do not happen to be one of those choice
+spirits &lsquo;who turn from their banner when the battle bears strongly
+against it, and go over to the enemy,&rsquo; and who receive at first
+a hug and a &lsquo;viva,&rsquo; and in the sequel contempt and spittle
+in the face; but my chief reason for belonging to it is, because, of
+all churches calling themselves Christian ones, I believe there is none
+so good, so well founded upon Scripture, or whose ministers are, upon
+the whole, so exemplary in their lives and conversation, so well read
+in the book from which they preach, or so versed in general learning,
+so useful in their immediate neighbourhoods, or so unwilling to persecute
+people of other denominations for matters of doctrine.<br>
+<br>
+In the communion of this Church, and with the religious consolation
+of its ministers, I wish and hope to live and die, and in its and their
+defence will at all times be ready, if required, to speak, though humbly,
+and to fight, though feebly, against enemies, whether carnal or spiritual.<br>
+<br>
+And is there no priestcraft in the Church of England?&nbsp; There is
+certainly, or rather there was, a modicum of priestcraft in the Church
+of England, but I have generally found that those who are most vehement
+against the Church of England are chiefly dissatisfied with her because
+there is only a modicum of that article in her - were she stuffed to
+the very cupola with it, like a certain other Church, they would have
+much less to say against the Church of England.<br>
+<br>
+By the other Church, I mean Rome.&nbsp; Its system was once prevalent
+in England, and, during the period that it prevailed there, was more
+prolific of debasement and crime than all other causes united.&nbsp;
+The people and the government at last becoming enlightened by means
+of the Scripture spurned it from the island with disgust and horror,
+the land instantly after its disappearance becoming a fair field, in
+which arts, sciences, and all the amiable virtues flourished, instead
+of being a pestilent marsh where swine-like ignorance wallowed, and
+artful hypocrites, like so many Wills-o&rsquo;-the-wisp, played antic
+gambols about, around, and above debased humanity.<br>
+<br>
+But Popery still wished to play her old part, to regain her lost dominion,
+to reconvert the smiling land into the pestilential morass, where she
+could play again her old antics.&nbsp; From the period of the Reformation
+in England up to the present time, she has kept her emissaries here,
+individuals contemptible in intellect, it is true, but cat-like and
+gliding, who, at her bidding, have endeavoured, as much as in their
+power has lain, to damp and stifle every genial, honest, loyal, and
+independent thought, and to reduce minds to such a state of dotage as
+would enable their old Popish mother to do what she pleased with them.<br>
+<br>
+And in every country, however enlightened, there are always minds inclined
+to grovelling superstition - minds fond of eating dust and swallowing
+clay - minds never at rest, save when prostrate before some fellow in
+a surplice; and these Popish emissaries found always some weak enough
+to bow down before them, astounded by their dreadful denunciations of
+eternal woe and damnation to any who should refuse to believe their
+Romania; but they played a poor game - the law protected the servants
+of Scripture, and the priest with his beads seldom ventured to approach
+any but the remnant of those of the eikonolatry - representatives of
+worm-eaten houses, their debased dependants, and a few poor crazy creatures
+amongst the middle classes - he played a poor game, and the labour was
+about to prove almost entirely in vain, when the English legislature,
+in compassion or contempt, or, yet more probably, influenced by that
+spirit of toleration and kindness which is so mixed up with Protestantism,
+removed almost entirely the disabilities under which Popery laboured,
+and enabled it to raise its head and to speak out almost without fear.<br>
+<br>
+And it did raise its head, and, though it spoke with some little fear
+at first, soon discarded every relic of it; went about the land uttering
+its damnation cry, gathering around it - and for doing so many thanks
+to it - the favourers of priestcraft who lurked within the walls of
+the Church of England; frightening with the loudness of its voice the
+weak, the timid, and the ailing; perpetrating, whenever it had an opportunity,
+that species of crime to which it has ever been most partial - <i>Deathbed
+robbery</i>; for as it is cruel, so is it dastardly.&nbsp; Yes, it went
+on enlisting, plundering, and uttering its terrible threats till - till
+it became, as it always does when left to itself, a fool, a very fool.&nbsp;
+Its plunderings might have been overlooked, and so might its insolence,
+had it been common insolence, but it - , and then the roar of indignation
+which arose from outraged England against the viper, the frozen viper,
+which it had permitted to warm itself upon its bosom.<br>
+<br>
+But thanks, Popery, you have done all that the friends of enlightenment
+and religious liberty could wish; but if ever there were a set of foolish
+ones to be found under heaven, surely it is the priestly rabble who
+came over from Rome to direct the grand movement - so long in its getting
+up.<br>
+<br>
+But now again the damnation cry is withdrawn, there is a subdued meekness
+in your demeanour, you are now once more harmless as a lamb.&nbsp; Well,
+we shall see how the trick - &lsquo;the old trick&rsquo; - will serve
+you.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER I<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Birth - My father - Tamerlane - Ben Brain - French Protestants - East
+Anglia - Sorrow and troubles - True peace - A beautiful child - Foreign
+grave - Mirrors - Alpine country - Emblems - Slow of speech - The Jew
+- Strange gestures.<br>
+<br>
+On an evening of July, in the year 18-, at East D-, a beautiful little
+town in a certain district of East Anglia, I first saw the light.<br>
+<br>
+My father was a Cornish man, the youngest, as I have heard him say,
+of seven brothers.&nbsp; He sprang from a family of gentlemen, or, as
+some people would call them, gentill&acirc;tres, for they were not very
+wealthy; they had a coat of arms, however, and lived on their own property
+at a place called Tredinnock, which being interpreted means <i>the house
+on the</i> <i>hill</i>, which house and the neighbouring acres had been
+from time immemorial in their possession.&nbsp; I mention these particulars
+that the reader may see at once that I am not altogether of low and
+plebeian origin; the present age is highly aristocratic, and I am convinced
+that the public will read my pages with more zest from being told that
+I am a gentill&acirc;tre by birth with Cornish blood in my veins, of
+a family who lived on their own property at a place bearing a Celtic
+name, signifying the house on the hill, or more strictly the house on
+the <i>hillock.<br>
+<br>
+</i>My father was what is generally termed a posthumous child - in other
+words, the gentill&acirc;tre who begot him never had the satisfaction
+of invoking the blessing of the Father of All upon his head; having
+departed this life some months before the birth of his youngest son.&nbsp;
+The boy, therefore, never knew a father&rsquo;s care; he was, however,
+well tended by his mother, whose favourite he was; so much so, indeed,
+that his brethren, the youngest of whom was considerably older than
+himself, were rather jealous of him.&nbsp; I never heard, however, that
+they treated him with any marked unkindness, and it will be as well
+to observe here that I am by no means well acquainted with his early
+history, of which, indeed, as I am not writing his life, it is not necessary
+to say much.&nbsp; Shortly after his mother&rsquo;s death, which occurred
+when he was eighteen, he adopted the profession of arms, which he followed
+during the remainder of his life, and in which, had circumstances permitted,
+he would probably have shone amongst the best.&nbsp; By nature he was
+cool and collected, slow to anger, though perfectly fearless, patient
+of control, of great strength; and, to crown all, a proper man with
+his hands.<br>
+<br>
+With far inferior qualifications many a man has become a field-marshal
+or general; similar ones made Tamerlane, who was not a gentill&acirc;tre,
+but the son of a blacksmith, emperor of one-third of the world; but
+the race is not always for the swift, nor the battle for the strong,
+indeed I ought rather to say very seldom; certain it is, that my father,
+with all his high military qualifications, never became emperor, field-marshal,
+or even general: indeed, he had never an opportunity of distinguishing
+himself save in one battle, and that took place neither in Flanders,
+Egypt, nor on the banks of the Indus or Oxus, but in Hyde Park.<br>
+<br>
+Smile not, gentle reader, many a battle has been fought in Hyde Park,
+in which as much skill, science, and bravery have been displayed as
+ever achieved a victory in Flanders or by the Indus.&nbsp; In such a
+combat as that to which I allude, I opine that even Wellington or Napoleon
+would have been heartily glad to cry for quarter ere the lapse of five
+minutes, and even the Blacksmith Tartar would, perhaps, have shrunk
+from the opponent with whom, after having had a dispute with him, my
+father engaged in single combat for one hour, at the end of which time
+the champions shook hands and retired, each having experienced quite
+enough of the other&rsquo;s prowess.&nbsp; The name of my father&rsquo;s
+antagonist was Brain.<br>
+<br>
+What! still a smile? did you never hear that name before?&nbsp; I cannot
+help it!&nbsp; Honour to Brain, who four months after the event which
+I have now narrated was champion of England, having conquered the heroic
+Johnson.&nbsp; Honour to Brain, who, at the end of other four months,
+worn out by the dreadful blows which he had received in his manly combats,
+expired in the arms of my father, who read the Bible to him in his latter
+moments - Big Ben Brain.<br>
+<br>
+You no longer smile, even <i>you</i> have heard of Big Ben.<br>
+<br>
+I have already hinted that my father never rose to any very exalted
+rank in his profession, notwithstanding his prowess and other qualifications.&nbsp;
+After serving for many years in the line, he at last entered as captain
+in the militia regiment of the Earl of -, at that period just raised,
+and to which he was sent by the Duke of York to instruct the young levies
+in military manoeuvres and discipline; and in this mission I believe
+he perfectly succeeded, competent judges having assured me that the
+regiment in question soon came by his means to be considered as one
+of the most brilliant in the service, and inferior to no regiment of
+the line in appearance or discipline.<br>
+<br>
+As the headquarters of this corps were at D- the duties of my father
+not unfrequently carried him to that place, and it was on one of these
+occasions that he became acquainted with a young person of the neighbourhood,
+for whom he formed an attachment, which was returned; and this young
+person was my mother.<br>
+<br>
+She was descended from a family of French Protestants, natives of Caen,
+who were obliged to leave their native country when old Louis, at the
+instigation of the Pope, thought fit to revoke the Edict of Nantes:
+their name was Petrement, and I have reason for believing that they
+were people of some consideration; that they were noble hearts, and
+good Christians, they gave sufficient proof in scorning to bow the knee
+to the tyranny of Rome.&nbsp; So they left beautiful Normandy for their
+faith&rsquo;s sake, and with a few louis d&rsquo;ors in their purse,
+a Bible in the vulgar tongue, and a couple of old swords, which, if
+report be true, had done service in the Huguenot wars, they crossed
+the sea to the isle of civil peace and religious liberty, and established
+themselves in East Anglia.<br>
+<br>
+And many other Huguenot families bent their steps thither, and devoted
+themselves to agriculture or the mechanical arts; and in the venerable
+old city, the capital of the province, in the northern shadow of the
+Castle of De Burgh, the exiles built for themselves a church where they
+praised God in the French tongue, and to which, at particular seasons
+of the year, they were in the habit of flocking from country and from
+town to sing -<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thou hast provided for us a goodly earth; thou waterest her furrows,
+thou sendest rain into the little valleys thereof, thou makest it soft
+with the drops of rain, and blessest the increase of it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I have been told that in her younger days my mother was strikingly handsome;
+this I can easily believe: I never knew her in her youth, for though
+she was very young when she married my father (who was her senior by
+many years), she had attained the middle age before I was born, no children
+having been vouchsafed to my parents in the early stages of their union.&nbsp;
+Yet even at the present day, now that years threescore and ten have
+passed over her head, attended with sorrow and troubles manifold, poorly
+chequered with scanty joys, can I look on that countenance and doubt
+that at one time beauty decked it as with a glorious garment?&nbsp;
+Hail to thee, my parent! as thou sittest there, in thy widow&rsquo;s
+weeds, in the dusky parlour in the house overgrown with the lustrous
+ivy of the sister isle, the solitary house at the end of the retired
+court shaded by lofty poplars.&nbsp; Hail to thee, dame of the oval
+face, olive complexion, and Grecian forehead; by thy table seated with
+the mighty volume of the good Bishop Hopkins spread out before thee;
+there is peace in thy countenance, my mother; it is not worldly peace,
+however, not the deceitful peace which lulls to bewitching slumbers,
+and from which, let us pray, humbly pray, that every sinner may be roused
+in time to implore mercy not in vain!&nbsp; Thine is the peace of the
+righteous, my mother, of those to whom no sin can be imputed, the score
+of whose misdeeds has been long since washed away by the blood of atonement,
+which imputeth righteousness to those who trust in it.&nbsp; It was
+not always thus, my mother; a time was, when the cares, pomps, and vanities
+of this world agitated thee too much; but that time is gone by, another
+and a better has succeeded; there is peace now on thy countenance, the
+true peace; peace around thee, too, in thy solitary dwelling, sounds
+of peace, the cheerful hum of the kettle and the purring of the immense
+angola, which stares up at thee from its settle with its almost human
+eyes.<br>
+<br>
+No more earthly cares and affections now, my mother!&nbsp; Yes, one.&nbsp;
+Why dost thou suddenly raise thy dark and still brilliant eye from the
+volume with a somewhat startled glance?&nbsp; What noise is that in
+the distant street?&nbsp; Merely the noise of a hoof; a sound common
+enough: it draws nearer, nearer, and now it stops before thy gate.&nbsp;
+Singular!&nbsp; And now there is a pause, a long pause.&nbsp; Ha! thou
+hearest something - a footstep; a swift but heavy footstep! thou risest,
+thou tremblest, there is a hand on the pin of the outer door, there
+is some one in the vestibule, and now the door of thy apartment opens,
+there is a reflection on the mirror behind thee, a travelling hat, a
+gray head and sunburnt face.&nbsp; My dearest Son! - My darling Mother!<br>
+<br>
+Yes, mother, thou didst recognise in the distant street the hoof-tramp
+of the wanderer&rsquo;s horse.<br>
+<br>
+I was not the only child of my parents; I had a brother some three years
+older than myself.&nbsp; He was a beautiful child; one of those occasionally
+seen in England, and in England alone; a rosy, angelic face, blue eyes,
+and light chestnut hair; it was not exactly an Anglo-Saxon countenance,
+in which, by the bye, there is generally a cast of loutishness and stupidity;
+it partook, to a certain extent, of the Celtic character, particularly
+in the fire and vivacity which illumined it; his face was the mirror
+of his mind; perhaps no disposition more amiable was ever found amongst
+the children of Adam, united, however, with no inconsiderable portion
+of high and dauntless spirit.&nbsp; So great was his beauty in infancy,
+that people, especially those of the poorer classes, would follow the
+nurse who carried him about in order to look at and bless his lovely
+face.&nbsp; At the age of three months an attempt was made to snatch
+him from his mother&rsquo;s arms in the streets of London, at the moment
+she was about to enter a coach; indeed, his appearance seemed to operate
+so powerfully upon every person who beheld him, that my parents were
+under continual apprehension of losing him; his beauty, however, was
+perhaps surpassed by the quickness of his parts.&nbsp; He mastered his
+letters in a few hours, and in a day or two could decipher the names
+of people on the doors of houses and over the shop-windows.<br>
+<br>
+As he grew up, his personal appearance became less prepossessing, his
+quickness and cleverness, however, rather increased; and I may say of
+him, that with respect to everything which he took in hand he did it
+better and more speedily than any other person.&nbsp; Perhaps it will
+be asked here, what became of him?&nbsp; Alas! alas! his was an early
+and a foreign grave.&nbsp; As I have said before, the race is not always
+for the swift, nor the battle for the strong.<br>
+<br>
+And now, doubtless, after the above portrait of my brother, painted
+in the very best style of Rubens, the reader will conceive himself justified
+in expecting a full-length one of myself, as a child, for as to my present
+appearance, I suppose he will be tolerably content with that flitting
+glimpse in the mirror.&nbsp; But he must excuse me; I have no intention
+of drawing a portrait of myself in childhood; indeed it would be difficult,
+for at that time I never looked into mirrors.&nbsp; No attempts, however,
+were ever made to steal me in my infancy, and I never heard that my
+parents entertained the slightest apprehension of losing me by the hands
+of kidnappers, though I remember perfectly well that people were in
+the habit of standing still to look at me, ay, more than at my brother;
+from which premisses the reader may form any conclusion with respect
+to my appearance which seemeth good unto him and reasonable.&nbsp; Should
+he, being a good-natured person, and always inclined to adopt the charitable
+side in any doubtful point, be willing to suppose that I, too, was eminently
+endowed by nature with personal graces, I tell him frankly that I have
+no objection whatever to his entertaining that idea; moreover, that
+I heartily thank him, and shall at all times be disposed, under similar
+circumstances, to exercise the same species of charity towards himself.<br>
+<br>
+With respect to my mind and its qualities I shall be more explicit;
+for, were I to maintain much reserve on this point, many things which
+appear in these memoirs would be highly mysterious to the reader, indeed
+incomprehensible.&nbsp; Perhaps no two individuals were ever more unlike
+in mind and disposition than my brother and myself: as light is opposed
+to darkness, so was that happy, brilliant, cheerful child to the sad
+and melancholy being who sprang from the same stock as himself, and
+was nurtured by the same milk.<br>
+<br>
+Once, when travelling in an Alpine country, I arrived at a considerable
+elevation; I saw in the distance, far below, a beautiful stream hastening
+to the ocean, its rapid waters here sparkling in the sunshine, and there
+tumbling merrily in cascades.&nbsp; On its banks were vineyards and
+cheerful villages; close to where I stood, in a granite basin with steep
+and precipitous sides, slumbered a deep, dark lagoon, shaded by black
+pines, cypresses, and yews.&nbsp; It was a wild, savage spot, strange
+and singular; ravens hovered above the pines, filling the air with their
+uncouth notes, pies chattered, and I heard the cry of an eagle from
+a neighbouring peak; there lay the lake, the dark, solitary, and almost
+inaccessible lake; gloomy shadows were upon it, which, strangely modified,
+as gusts of wind agitated the surface, occasionally assumed the shape
+of monsters.&nbsp; So I stood on the Alpine elevation, and looked now
+on the gay distant river, and now at the dark granite-encircled lake
+close beside me in the lone solitude, and I thought of my brother and
+myself.&nbsp; I am no moraliser; but the gay and rapid river, and the
+dark and silent lake, were, of a verity, no had emblems of us two.<br>
+<br>
+So far from being quick and clever like my brother, and able to rival
+the literary feat which I have recorded of him, many years elapsed before
+I was able to understand the nature of letters, or to connect them.&nbsp;
+A lover of nooks and retired corners, I was as a child in the habit
+of fleeing from society, and of sitting for hours together with my head
+on my breast.&nbsp; What I was thinking about, it would be difficult
+to say at this distance of time; I remember perfectly well, however,
+being ever conscious of a peculiar heaviness within me, and at times
+of a strange sensation of fear, which occasionally amounted to horror,
+and for which I could assign no real cause whatever.<br>
+<br>
+By nature slow of speech, I took no pleasure in conversation, nor in
+hearing the voices of my fellow-creatures.&nbsp; When people addressed
+me, I not unfrequently, especially if they were strangers, turned away
+my head from them, and if they persisted in their notice burst into
+tears, which singularity of behaviour by no means tended to dispose
+people in my favour.&nbsp; I was as much disliked as my brother was
+deservedly beloved and admired.&nbsp; My parents, it is true, were always
+kind to me; and my brother, who was good nature itself, was continually
+lavishing upon me every mark of affection.<br>
+<br>
+There was, however, one individual who, in the days of my childhood,
+was disposed to form a favourable opinion of me.&nbsp; One day, a Jew
+- I have quite forgotten the circumstance, but I was long subsequently
+informed of it - one day a travelling Jew knocked at the door of a farmhouse
+in which we had taken apartments; I was near at hand sitting in the
+bright sunshine, drawing strange lines on the dust with my fingers,
+an ape and dog were my companions; the Jew looked at me and asked me
+some questions, to which, though I was quite able to speak, I returned
+no answer.&nbsp; On the door being opened, the Jew, after a few words,
+probably relating to pedlery, demanded who the child was, sitting in
+the sun; the maid replied that I was her mistress&rsquo;s youngest son,
+a child weak <i>here</i>, pointing to her forehead.&nbsp; The Jew looked
+at me again, and then said: &lsquo;&rsquo;Pon my conscience, my dear,
+I believe that you must be troubled there yourself to tell me any such
+thing.&nbsp; It is not my habit to speak to children, inasmuch as I
+hate them, because they often follow me and fling stones after me; but
+I no sooner looked at that child than I was forced to speak to it -
+his not answering me shows his sense, for it has never been the custom
+of the wise to fling away their words in indifferent talk and conversation;
+the child is a sweet child, and has all the look of one of our people&rsquo;s
+children.&nbsp; Fool, indeed! did I not see his eyes sparkle just now
+when the monkey seized the dog by the ear? - they shone like my own
+diamonds - does your good lady want any - real and fine?&nbsp; Were
+it not for what you tell me, I should say it was a prophet&rsquo;s child.&nbsp;
+Fool, indeed! he can write already, or I&rsquo;ll forfeit the box which
+I carry on my back, and for which I should be loth to take two hundred
+pounds!&rsquo;&nbsp; He then leaned forward to inspect the lines which
+I had traced.&nbsp; All of a sudden he started back, and grew white
+as a sheet; then, taking off his hat, he made some strange gestures
+to me, cringing, chattering, and showing his teeth, and shortly departed,
+muttering something about &lsquo;holy letters,&rsquo; and talking to
+himself in a strange tongue.&nbsp; The words of the Jew were in due
+course of time reported to my mother, who treasured them in her heart,
+and from that moment began to entertain brighter hopes of her youngest
+born than she had ever before ventured to foster.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER II<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Barracks and lodgings - A camp - The viper - A delicate child - Blackberry
+time - <i>Meun</i> and <i>tuum</i> - Hythe - The Golgotha - Daneman&rsquo;s
+skull - Superhuman stature - Stirring times - The sea-bord.<br>
+<br>
+I have been a wanderer the greater part of my life; indeed I remember
+only two periods, and these by no means lengthy, when I was, strictly
+speaking, stationary.&nbsp; I was a soldier&rsquo;s son, and as the
+means of my father were by no means sufficient to support two establishments,
+his family invariably attended him wherever he went, so that from my
+infancy I was accustomed to travelling and wandering, and looked upon
+a monthly change of scene and residence as a matter of course.&nbsp;
+Sometimes we lived in barracks, sometimes in lodgings, but generally
+in the former, always eschewing the latter from motives of economy,
+save when the barracks were inconvenient and uncomfortable; and they
+must have been highly so indeed, to have discouraged us from entering
+them; for though we were gentry (pray bear that in mind, gentle reader),
+gentry by birth, and incontestably so by my father&rsquo;s bearing the
+commission of good old George the Third, we were not <i>fine gentry</i>,
+but people who could put up with as much as any genteel Scotch family
+who find it convenient to live on a third floor in London, or on a sixth
+at Edinburgh or Glasgow.&nbsp; It was not a little that could discourage
+us: we once lived within the canvas walls of a camp, at a place called
+Pett, in Sussex; and I believe it was at this place that occurred the
+first circumstance, or adventure, call it which you will, that I can
+remember in connection with myself: it was a strange one, and I will
+relate it.<br>
+<br>
+It happened that my brother and myself were playing one evening in a
+sandy lane, in the neighbourhood of this Pett camp; our mother was at
+a slight distance.&nbsp; All of a sudden, a bright yellow, and, to my
+infantine eye, beautiful and glorious, object made its appearance at
+the top of the bank from between the thick quickset, and, gliding down,
+began to move across the lane to the other side, like a line of golden
+light.&nbsp; Uttering a cry of pleasure, I sprang forward, and seized
+it nearly by the middle.&nbsp; A strange sensation of numbing coldness
+seemed to pervade my whole arm, which surprised me the more, as the
+object to the eye appeared so warm and sunlike.&nbsp; I did not drop
+it, however, but, holding it up, looked at it intently, as its head
+dangled about a foot from my hand.&nbsp; It made no resistance; I felt
+not even the slightest struggle; but now my brother began to scream
+and shriek like one possessed.&nbsp; &lsquo;O mother, mother!&rsquo;
+said he, &lsquo;the viper! - my brother has a viper in his hand!&rsquo;&nbsp;
+He then, like one frantic, made an effort to snatch the creature away
+from me.&nbsp; The viper now hissed amain, and raised its head, in which
+were eyes like hot coals, menacing, not myself, but my brother.&nbsp;
+I dropped my captive, for I saw my mother running towards me; and the
+reptile, after standing for a moment nearly erect, and still hissing
+furiously, made off, and disappeared.&nbsp; The whole scene is now before
+me, as vividly as if it occurred yesterday - the gorgeous viper, my
+poor dear frantic brother, my agitated parent, and a frightened hen
+clucking under the bushes - and yet I was not three years old.<br>
+<br>
+It is my firm belief that certain individuals possess an inherent power,
+or fascination, over certain creatures, otherwise I should be unable
+to account for many feats which I have witnessed, and, indeed, borne
+a share in, connected with the taming of brutes and reptiles.&nbsp;
+I have known a savage and vicious mare, whose stall it was dangerous
+to approach, even when bearing provender, welcome, nevertheless, with
+every appearance of pleasure, an uncouth, wiry-headed man, with a frightfully
+seamed face, and an iron hook supplying the place of his right hand,
+one whom the animal had never seen before, playfully bite his hair,
+and cover his face with gentle and endearing kisses; and I have already
+stated how a viper would permit, without resentment, one child to take
+it up in his hand, whilst it showed its dislike to the approach of another
+by the fiercest hissings.&nbsp; Philosophy can explain many strange
+things, but there are some which are a far pitch above her, and this
+is one.<br>
+<br>
+I should scarcely relate another circumstance which occurred about this
+time but for a singular effect which it produced upon my constitution.&nbsp;
+Up to this period I had been rather a delicate child; whereas, almost
+immediately after the occurrence to which I allude, I became both hale
+and vigorous, to the great astonishment of my parents, who naturally
+enough expected that it would produce quite a contrary effect.<br>
+<br>
+It happened that my brother and myself were disporting ourselves in
+certain fields near the good town of Canterbury.&nbsp; A female servant
+had attended us, in order to take care that we came to no mischief:
+she, however, it seems, had matters of her own to attend to, and, allowing
+us to go where we listed, remained in one corner of a field, in earnest
+conversation with a red-coated dragoon.&nbsp; Now it chanced to be blackberry
+time, and the two children wandered under the hedges, peering anxiously
+among them in quest of that trash so grateful to urchins of their degree.&nbsp;
+We did not find much of it, however, and were soon separated in the
+pursuit.&nbsp; All at once I stood still, and could scarcely believe
+my eyes.&nbsp; I had come to a spot where, almost covering the hedge,
+hung clusters of what seemed fruit - deliciously-tempting fruit - something
+resembling grapes of various colours, green, red, and purple.&nbsp;
+Dear me, thought I, how fortunate! yet have I a right to gather it?
+is it mine? for the observance of the law of <i>meum</i> and <i>tuum</i>
+had early been impressed upon my mind, and I entertained, even at that
+tender age, the utmost horror for theft; so I stood staring at the variegated
+clusters, in doubt as to what I should do.&nbsp; I know not how I argued
+the matter in my mind; the temptation, however, was at last too strong
+for me, so I stretched forth my hand and ate.&nbsp; I remember, perfectly
+well, that the taste of this strange fruit was by no means so pleasant
+as the appearance; but the idea of eating fruit was sufficient for a
+child, and, after all, the flavour was much superior to that of sour
+apples, so I ate voraciously.&nbsp; How long I continued eating I scarcely
+know.&nbsp; One thing is certain, that I never left the field as I entered
+it, being carried home in the arms of the dragoon in strong convulsions,
+in which I continued for several hours.&nbsp; About midnight I awoke,
+as if from a troubled sleep, and beheld my parents bending over my couch,
+whilst the regimental surgeon, with a candle in his hand, stood nigh,
+the light feebly reflected on the whitewashed walls of the barrack-room.<br>
+<br>
+Another circumstance connected with my infancy, and I have done.&nbsp;
+I need offer no apology for relating it, as it subsequently exercised
+considerable influence over my pursuits.&nbsp; We were, if I remember
+right, in the vicinity of a place called Hythe, in Kent.&nbsp; One sweet
+evening, in the latter part of summer, our mother took her two little
+boys by the hand, for a wander about the fields.&nbsp; In the course
+of our stroll we came to the village church; an old, gray-headed sexton
+stood in the porch, who, perceiving that we were strangers, invited
+us to enter.&nbsp; We were presently in the interior, wandering about
+the aisles, looking on the walls, and inspecting the monuments of the
+notable dead.&nbsp; I can scarcely state what we saw; how should I?&nbsp;
+I was a child not yet four years old, and yet I think I remember the
+evening sun streaming in through a stained window upon the dingy mahogany
+pulpit, and flinging a rich lustre upon the faded tints of an ancient
+banner.&nbsp; And now once more we were outside the building, where,
+against the wall, stood a low-eaved pent-house, into which we looked.&nbsp;
+It was half filled with substances of some kind, which at first looked
+like large gray stones.&nbsp; The greater part were lying in layers;
+some, however, were seen in confused and mouldering heaps, and two or
+three, which had perhaps rolled down from the rest, lay separately on
+the floor.&nbsp; &lsquo;Skulls, madam,&rsquo; said the sexton; &lsquo;skulls
+of the old Danes!&nbsp; Long ago they came pirating into these parts;
+and then there chanced a mighty shipwreck, for God was angry with them,
+and He sunk them; and their skulls, as they came ashore, were placed
+here as a memorial.&nbsp; There were many more when I was young, but
+now they are fast disappearing.&nbsp; Some of them must have belonged
+to strange fellows, madam.&nbsp; Only see that one; why, the two young
+gentry can scarcely lift it!&rsquo;&nbsp; And, indeed, my brother and
+myself had entered the Golgotha, and commenced handling these grim relics
+of mortality.&nbsp; One enormous skull, lying in a corner, had fixed
+our attention, and we had drawn it forth.&nbsp; Spirit of eld, what
+a skull was yon!<br>
+<br>
+I still seem to see it, the huge grim thing; many of the others were
+large, strikingly so, and appeared fully to justify the old man&rsquo;s
+conclusion that their owners must have been strange fellows; but, compared
+with this mighty mass of bone, they looked small and diminutive like
+those of pigmies; it must have belonged to a giant, one of those red-haired
+warriors of whose strength and stature such wondrous tales are told
+in the ancient chronicles of the north, and whose grave-hills, when
+ransacked, occasionally reveal secrets which fill the minds of puny
+moderns with astonishment and awe.&nbsp; Reader, have you ever pored
+days and nights over the pages of Snorro? - probably not, for he wrote
+in a language which few of the present day understand, and few would
+be tempted to read him tamed down by Latin dragomans.&nbsp; A brave
+old book is that of Snorro, containing the histories and adventures
+of old northern kings and champions, who seemed to have been quite different
+men, if we may judge from the feats which they performed, from those
+of these days; one of the best of his histories is that which describes
+the life of Harald Haardraade, who, after manifold adventures by land
+and sea, now a pirate, now a mercenary of the Greek emperor, became
+king of Norway, and eventually perished at the battle of Stamford Bridge,
+whilst engaged in a gallant onslaught upon England.&nbsp; Now, I have
+often thought that the old Kemp, whose mouldering skull in the Golgotha
+of Hythe my brother and myself could scarcely lift, must have resembled
+in one respect at least this Harald, whom Snorro describes as a great
+and wise ruler and a determined leader, dangerous in battle, of fair
+presence and measuring in height just <i>five ells</i>, neither more
+nor less.<br>
+<br>
+I never forgot the Daneman&rsquo;s skull; like the apparition of the
+viper in the sandy lane, it dwelt in the mind of the boy, affording
+copious food for the exercise of imagination.&nbsp; From that moment
+with the name of Dane were associated strange ideas of strength, daring,
+and superhuman stature; and an undefinable curiosity for all that is
+connected with the Danish race began to pervade me; and if, long after,
+when I became a student I devoted myself with peculiar zest to Danish
+lore and the acquirement of the old Norse tongue and its dialects, I
+can only explain the matter by the early impression received at Hythe
+from the tale of the old sexton, beneath the pent-house, and the sight
+of the Danish skull.<br>
+<br>
+And thus we went on straying from place to place, at Hythe to-day, and
+perhaps within a week looking out from our hostel-window upon the streets
+of old Winchester, our motions ever in accordance with the &lsquo;route&rsquo;
+of the regiment, so habituated to change of scene that it had become
+almost necessary to our existence.&nbsp; Pleasant were these days of
+my early boyhood; and a melancholy pleasure steals over me as I recall
+them.&nbsp; Those were stirring times of which I am speaking, and there
+was much passing around me calculated to captivate the imagination.&nbsp;
+The dreadful struggle which so long convulsed Europe, and in which England
+bore so prominent a part, was then at its hottest; we were at war, and
+determination and enthusiasm shone in every face; man, woman, and child
+were eager to fight the Frank, the hereditary, but, thank God, never
+dreaded enemy of the Anglo-Saxon race.&nbsp; &lsquo;Love your country
+and beat the French, and then never mind what happens,&rsquo; was the
+cry of entire England.&nbsp; Oh, those were days of power, gallant days,
+bustling days, worth the bravest days of chivalry at least; tall battalions
+of native warriors were marching through the land; there was the glitter
+of the bayonet and the gleam of the sabre; the shrill squeak of the
+fife and loud rattling of the drum were heard in the streets of country
+towns, and the loyal shouts of the inhabitants greeted the soldiery
+on their arrival, or cheered them at their departure.&nbsp; And now
+let us leave the upland, and descend to the sea-bord; there is a sight
+for you upon the billows!&nbsp; A dozen men-of-war are gliding majestically
+out of port, their long buntings streaming from the top-gallant masts,
+calling on the skulking Frenchman to come forth from his bights and
+bays; and what looms upon us yonder from the fog-bank in the east? a
+gallant frigate towing behind her the long low hull of a crippled privateer,
+which but three short days ago had left Dieppe to skim the sea, and
+whose crew of ferocious hearts are now cursing their imprudence in an
+English hold.&nbsp; Stirring times those, which I love to recall, for
+they were days of gallantry and enthusiasm, and were moreover the days
+of my boyhood.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER III<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Pretty D- - The venerable church - The stricken heart - Dormant energies
+- The small packet - Nerves - The books - A picture - Mountain-like
+billows - The footprint - Spirit of De Foe - Reasoning powers - Terrors
+of God - Heads of the dragons - High-Church clerk - A journey - The
+drowned country.<br>
+<br>
+And when I was between six and seven years of age we were once more
+at D-, the place of my birth, whither my father had been despatched
+on the recruiting service.&nbsp; I have already said that it was a beautiful
+little town - at least it was at the time of which I am speaking - what
+it is at present I know not, for thirty years and more have elapsed
+since I last trod its streets.&nbsp; It will scarcely have improved,
+for how could it be better than it then was?&nbsp; I love to think on
+thee, pretty quiet D-, thou pattern of an English country town, with
+thy clean but narrow streets branching out from thy modest market-place,
+with thine old-fashioned houses, with here and there a roof of venerable
+thatch, with thy one half-aristocratic mansion, where resided thy Lady
+Bountiful - she, the generous and kind, who loved to visit the sick,
+leaning on her gold-headed cane, whilst the sleek old footman walked
+at a respectful distance behind.&nbsp; Pretty quiet D-, with thy venerable
+church, in which moulder the mortal remains of England&rsquo;s sweetest
+and most pious bard.<br>
+<br>
+Yes, pretty D-, I could always love thee, were it but for the sake of
+him who sleeps beneath the marble slab in yonder quiet chancel.&nbsp;
+It was within thee that the long-oppressed bosom heaved its last sigh,
+and the crushed and gentle spirit escaped from a world in which it had
+known nought but sorrow.&nbsp; Sorrow! do I say?&nbsp; How faint a word
+to express the misery of that bruised reed; misery so dark that a blind
+worm like myself is occasionally tempted to exclaim, Better had the
+world never been created than that one so kind, so harmless, and so
+mild, should have undergone such intolerable woe!&nbsp; But it is over
+now, for, as there is an end of joy, so has affliction its termination.&nbsp;
+Doubtless the All-wise did not afflict him without a cause: who knows
+but within that unhappy frame lurked vicious seeds which the sunbeams
+of joy and prosperity might have called into life and vigour?&nbsp;
+Perhaps the withering blasts of misery nipped that which otherwise might
+have terminated in fruit noxious and lamentable.&nbsp; But peace to
+the unhappy one, he is gone to his rest; the death-like face is no longer
+occasionally seen timidly and mournfully looking for a moment through
+the window-pane upon thy market-place, quiet and pretty D-; the hind
+in thy neighbourhood no longer at evening-fall views, and starts as
+he views, the dark lathy figure moving beneath the hazels and alders
+of shadowy lanes, or by the side of murmuring trout streams, and no
+longer at early dawn does the sexton of the old church reverently doff
+his hat, as, supported by some kind friend, the death-stricken creature
+totters along the church-path to that mouldering edifice with the low
+roof, inclosing a spring of sanatory waters, built and devoted to some
+saint, if the legend over the door be true, by the daughter of an East
+Anglian king.<br>
+<br>
+But to return to my own history.&nbsp; I had now attained the age of
+six: shall I state what intellectual progress I had been making up to
+this period?&nbsp; Alas! upon this point I have little to say calculated
+to afford either pleasure or edification; I had increased rapidly in
+size and in strength: the growth of the mind, however, had by no means
+corresponded with that of the body.&nbsp; It is true, I had acquired
+my letters, and was by this time able to read imperfectly; but this
+was all: and even this poor triumph over absolute ignorance would never
+have been effected but for the unremitting attention of my parents,
+who, sometimes by threats, sometimes by entreaties, endeavoured to rouse
+the dormant energies of my nature, and to bend my wishes to the acquisition
+of the rudiments of knowledge; but in influencing the wish lay the difficulty.&nbsp;
+Let but the will of a human being be turned to any particular object,
+and it is ten to one that sooner or later he achieves it.&nbsp; At this
+time I may safely say that I harboured neither wishes nor hopes; I had
+as yet seen no object calculated to call them forth, and yet I took
+pleasure in many things which perhaps unfortunately were all within
+my sphere of enjoyment.&nbsp; I loved to look upon the heavens, and
+to bask in the rays of the sun, or to sit beneath hedgerows and listen
+to the chirping of the birds, indulging the while in musing and meditation
+as far as my very limited circle of ideas would permit; but, unlike
+my brother, who was at this time at school, and whose rapid progress
+in every branch of instruction astonished and delighted his preceptors,
+I took no pleasure in books, whose use, indeed, I could scarcely comprehend,
+and bade fair to be as arrant a dunce as ever brought the blush of shame
+into the cheeks of anxious and affectionate parents.<br>
+<br>
+But the time was now at hand when the ice which had hitherto bound the
+mind of the child with its benumbing power was to be thawed, and a world
+of sensations and ideas awakened to which it had hitherto been an entire
+stranger.&nbsp; One day a young lady, an intimate acquaintance of our
+family, and godmother to my brother, drove up to the house in which
+we dwelt; she stayed some time conversing with my mother, and on rising
+to depart, she put down on the table a small packet, exclaiming, &lsquo;I
+have brought a little present for each of the boys: the one is a History
+of England, which I intend for my godson when he returns from school,
+the other is . . .&rsquo; - and here she said something which escaped
+my ear, as I sat at some distance, moping in a corner, - &lsquo;I intend
+it for the youngster yonder,&rsquo; pointing to myself; she then departed,
+and, my mother going out shortly after, I was left alone.<br>
+<br>
+I remember for some time sitting motionless in my corner, with my eyes
+bent upon the ground; at last I lifted my head and looked upon the packet
+as it lay on the table.&nbsp; All at once a strange sensation came over
+me, such as I had never experienced before - a singular blending of
+curiosity, awe, and pleasure, the remembrance of which, even at this
+distance of time, produces a remarkable effect upon my nervous system.&nbsp;
+What strange things are the nerves - I mean those more secret and mysterious
+ones in which I have some notion that the mind or soul, call it which
+you will, has its habitation; how they occasionally tingle and vibrate
+before any coming event closely connected with the future weal or woe
+of the human being.&nbsp; Such a feeling was now within me, certainly
+independent of what the eye had seen or the ear had heard.&nbsp; A book
+of some description had been brought for me, a present by no means calculated
+to interest me; what cared I for books?&nbsp; I had already many into
+which I never looked but from compulsion; friends, moreover, had presented
+me with similar things before, which I had entirely disregarded, and
+what was there in this particular book, whose very title I did not know,
+calculated to attract me more than the rest? yet something within told
+me that my fate was connected with the book which had been last brought;
+so, after looking on the packet from my corner for a considerable time,
+I got up and went to the table.<br>
+<br>
+The packet was lying where it had been left - I took it up; had the
+envelope, which consisted of whitish brown paper, been secured by a
+string or a seal, I should not have opened it, as I should have considered
+such an act almost in the light of a crime; the books, however, had
+been merely folded up, and I therefore considered that there could be
+no possible harm in inspecting them, more especially as I had received
+no injunction to the contrary.&nbsp; Perhaps there was something unsound
+in this reasoning, something sophistical; but a child is sometimes as
+ready as a grown-up person in finding excuses for doing that which he
+is inclined to.&nbsp; But whether the action was right or wrong, and
+I am afraid it was not altogether right, I undid the packet: it contained
+three books; two from their similarity seemed to be separate parts of
+one and the same work; they were handsomely bound, and to them I first
+turned my attention.&nbsp; I opened them successively, and endeavoured
+to make out their meaning; their contents, however, as far as I was
+able to understand them, were by no means interesting: whoever pleases
+may read these books for me, and keep them, too, into the bargain, said
+I to myself.<br>
+<br>
+I now took up the third book: it did not resemble the others, being
+longer and considerably thicker; the binding was of dingy calf-skin.&nbsp;
+I opened it, and as I did so another strange thrill of pleasure shot
+through my frame.&nbsp; The first object on which my eyes rested was
+a picture; it was exceedingly well executed, at least the scene which
+it represented made a vivid impression upon me, which would hardly have
+been the case had the artist not been faithful to nature.&nbsp; A wild
+scene it was - a heavy sea and rocky shore, with mountains in the background,
+above which the moon was peering.&nbsp; Not far from the shore, upon
+the water, was a boat with two figures in it, one of which stood at
+the bow, pointing with what I knew to be a gun at a dreadful shape in
+the water; fire was flashing from the muzzle of the gun, and the monster
+appeared to be transfixed.&nbsp; I almost thought I heard its cry.&nbsp;
+I remained motionless, gazing upon the picture, scarcely daring to draw
+my breath, lest the new and wondrous world should vanish of which I
+had now obtained a glimpse.&nbsp; &lsquo;Who are those people, and what
+could have brought them into that strange situation?&rsquo; I asked
+of myself; and now the seed of curiosity, which had so long lain dormant,
+began to expand, and I vowed to myself to become speedily acquainted
+with the whole history of the people in the boat.&nbsp; After looking
+on the picture till every mark and line in it were familiar to me, I
+turned over various leaves till I came to another engraving; a new source
+of wonder - a low sandy beach on which the furious sea was breaking
+in mountain-like billows; cloud and rack deformed the firmament, which
+wore a dull and leaden-like hue; gulls and other aquatic fowls were
+toppling upon the blast, or skimming over the tops of the maddening
+waves - &lsquo;Mercy upon him! he must be drowned!&rsquo;&nbsp; I exclaimed,
+as my eyes fell upon a poor wretch who appeared to be striving to reach
+the shore; he was upon his legs, but was evidently half smothered with
+the brine; high above his head curled a horrible billow, as if to engulf
+him for ever.&nbsp; &lsquo;He must be drowned! he must be drowned!&rsquo;&nbsp;
+I almost shrieked, and dropped the book.&nbsp; I soon snatched it up
+again, and now my eye lighted on a third picture: again a shore, but
+what a sweet and lovely one, and how I wished to be treading it; there
+were beautiful shells lying on the smooth white sand, some were empty
+like those I had occasionally seen on marble mantelpieces, but out of
+others peered the heads and bodies of wondrous crayfish, a wood of thick
+green trees skirted the beach and partly shaded it from the rays of
+the sun, which shone hot above, while blue waves slightly crested with
+foam were gently curling against it; there was a human figure upon the
+beach, wild and uncouth, clad in the skins of animals, with a huge cap
+on his head, a hatchet at his girdle, and in his hand a gun; his feet
+and legs were bare; he stood in an attitude of horror and surprise;
+his body was bent far back, and his eyes, which seemed starting out
+of his head, were fixed upon a mark on the sand - a large distinct mark
+- a human footprint. . . .<br>
+<br>
+Reader, is it necessary to name the book which now stood open in my
+hand, and whose very prints, feeble expounders of its wondrous lines,
+had produced within me emotions strange and novel?&nbsp; Scarcely -
+for it was a book which has exerted over the minds of Englishmen an
+influence certainly greater than any other of modern times - which has
+been in most people&rsquo;s hands, and with the contents of which even
+those who cannot read are to a certain extent acquainted - a book from
+which the most luxuriant and fertile of our modern prose writers have
+drunk inspiration - a book, moreover, to which, from the hardy deeds
+which it narrates, and the spirit of strange and romantic enterprise
+which it tends to awaken, England owes many of her astonishing discoveries
+both by sea and land, and no inconsiderable part of her naval glory.<br>
+<br>
+Hail to thee, spirit of De Foe!&nbsp; What does not my own poor self
+owe to thee?&nbsp; England has better bards than either Greece or Rome,
+yet I could spare them easier far than De Foe, &lsquo;unabashed De Foe,&rsquo;
+as the hunchbacked rhymer styled him.<br>
+<br>
+The true chord had now been touched; a raging curiosity with respect
+to the contents of the volume, whose engravings had fascinated my eye,
+burned within me, and I never rested until I had fully satisfied it;
+weeks succeeded weeks, months followed months, and the wondrous volume
+was my only study and principal source of amusement.&nbsp; For hours
+together I would sit poring over a page till I had become acquainted
+with the import of every line.&nbsp; My progress, slow enough at first,
+became by degrees more rapid, till at last, under &lsquo;a shoulder
+of mutton sail,&rsquo; I found myself cantering before a steady breeze
+over an ocean of enchantment, so well pleased with my voyage that I
+cared not how long it might be ere it reached its termination.<br>
+<br>
+And it was in this manner that I first took to the paths of knowledge.<br>
+<br>
+About this time I began to be somewhat impressed with religious feelings.&nbsp;
+My parents were, to a certain extent, religious people; but, though
+they had done their best to afford me instruction on religious points,
+I had either paid no attention to what they endeavoured to communicate,
+or had listened with an ear far too obtuse to derive any benefit.&nbsp;
+But my mind had now become awakened from the drowsy torpor in which
+it had lain so long, and the reasoning powers which I possessed were
+no longer inactive.&nbsp; Hitherto I had entertained no conception whatever
+of the nature and properties of God, and with the most perfect indifference
+had heard the divine name proceeding from the mouths of people - frequently,
+alas! on occasions when it ought not to be employed; but I now never
+heard it without a tremor, for I now knew that God was an awful and
+inscrutable Being, the Maker of all things; that we were His children,
+and that we, by our sins, had justly offended Him; that we were in very
+great peril from His anger, not so much in this life as in another and
+far stranger state of being yet to come; that we had a Saviour withal
+to whom it was necessary to look for help: upon this point, however,
+I was yet very much in the dark, as, indeed, were most of those with
+whom I was connected.&nbsp; The power and terrors of God were uppermost
+in my thoughts; they fascinated though they astounded me.&nbsp; Twice
+every Sunday I was regularly taken to the church, where, from a corner
+of the large spacious pew, lined with black leather, I would fix my
+eyes on the dignified High-Church rector, and the dignified High-Church
+clerk, and watch the movement of their lips, from which, as they read
+their respective portions of the venerable liturgy, would roll many
+a portentous word descriptive of the wondrous works of the Most High.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Rector</i>.&nbsp; Thou didst divide the sea, through thy power: thou
+brakest the heads of the dragons in the waters.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Philoh</i>.&nbsp; Thou smotest the heads of Leviathan in pieces:
+and gavest him to be meat for the people in the wilderness.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Rector</i>.&nbsp; Thou broughtest out fountains, and waters out of
+the hard rocks: thou driedst up mighty waters.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Philoh</i>.&nbsp; The day is thine, and the night is thine: thou
+hast prepared the light and the sun.<br>
+<br>
+Peace to your memories, dignified rector, and yet more dignified clerk!
+- by this time ye are probably gone to your long homes, and your voices
+are no longer heard sounding down the aisles of the venerable church
+- nay, doubtless, this has already long since been the fate of him of
+the sonorous &lsquo;Amen!&rsquo; - the one of the two who, with all
+due respect to the rector, principally engrossed my boyish admiration
+- he, at least, is scarcely now among the living! Living! why, I have
+heard say that he blew a fife - for he was a musical as well as a Christian
+professor - a bold fife, to cheer the Guards and the brave Marines,
+as they marched with measured step, obeying an insane command, up Bunker&rsquo;s
+height, whilst the rifles of the sturdy Yankees were sending the leaden
+hail sharp and thick amidst the red-coated ranks; for Philoh had not
+always been a man of peace, nor an exhorter to turn the other cheek
+to the smiter, but had even arrived at the dignity of a halberd in his
+country&rsquo;s service before his six-foot form required rest, and
+the gray-haired veteran retired, after a long peregrination, to his
+native town, to enjoy ease and respectability on a pension of &lsquo;eighteenpence
+a day&rsquo;; and well did his fellow-townsmen act, when, to increase
+that ease and respectability, and with a thoughtful regard for the dignity
+of the good church service, they made him clerk and precentor - the
+man of the tall form and of the audible voice, which sounded loud and
+clear as his own Bunker fife.&nbsp; Well, peace to thee, thou fine old
+chap, despiser of dissenters, and hater of papists, as became a dignified
+and High-Church clerk; if thou art in thy grave, the better for thee;
+thou wert fitted to adorn a bygone time, when loyalty was in vogue,
+and smiling content lay like a sunbeam upon the land, but thou wouldst
+be sadly out of place in these days of cold philosophic latitudinarian
+doctrine, universal tolerism, and half-concealed rebellion - rare times,
+no doubt, for papists and dissenters, but which would assuredly have
+broken the heart of the loyal soldier of George the Third, and the dignified
+High-Church clerk of pretty D-.<br>
+<br>
+We passed many months at this place: nothing, however, occurred requiring
+any particular notice, relating to myself, beyond what I have already
+stated, and I am not writing the history of others.&nbsp; At length
+my father was recalled to his regiment, which at that time was stationed
+at a place called Norman Cross, in Lincolnshire, or rather Huntingdonshire,
+at some distance from the old town of Peterborough.&nbsp; For this place
+he departed, leaving my mother and myself to follow in a few days.&nbsp;
+Our journey was a singular one.&nbsp; On the second day we reached a
+marshy and fenny country, which, owing to immense quantities of rain
+which had lately fallen, was completely submerged.&nbsp; At a large
+town we got on board a kind of passage-boat, crowded with people; it
+had neither sails nor oars, and those were not the days of steam-vessels;
+it was a treck-schuyt, and was drawn by horses.&nbsp; Young as I was,
+there was much connected with this journey which highly surprised me,
+and which brought to my remembrance particular scenes described in the
+book which I now generally carried in my bosom.&nbsp; The country was,
+as I have already said, submerged - entirely drowned - no land was visible;
+the trees were growing bolt upright in the flood, whilst farmhouses
+and cottages were standing insulated; the horses which drew us were
+up to the knees in water, and, on coming to blind pools and &lsquo;greedy
+depths,&rsquo; were not unfrequently swimming, in which case, the boys
+or urchins who mounted them sometimes stood, sometimes knelt, upon the
+saddle and pillions.&nbsp; No accident, however, occurred either to
+the quadrupeds or bipeds, who appeared respectively to be quite <i>au
+fait</i> in their business, and extricated themselves with the greatest
+ease from places in which Pharaoh and all his host would have gone to
+the bottom.&nbsp; Nightfall brought us to Peterborough, and from thence
+we were not slow in reaching the place of our destination.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER IV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Norman Cross - Wide expanse - <i>Vive</i> <i>l&rsquo;Empereur</i> -
+Unpruned woods - Man with the bag - Froth and conceit - I beg your pardon
+- Growing timid - About three o&rsquo;clock - Taking one&rsquo;s ease
+- Cheek on the ground - King of the vipers - French king - Frenchmen
+and water.<br>
+<br>
+And a strange place it was, this Norman Cross, and, at the time of which
+I am speaking, a sad cross to many a Norman, being what was then styled
+a French prison, that is, a receptacle for captives made in the French
+war.&nbsp; It consisted, if I remember right, of some five or six casernes,
+very long, and immensely high; each standing isolated from the rest,
+upon a spot of ground which might average ten acres, and which was fenced
+round with lofty palisades, the whole being compassed about by a towering
+wall, beneath which, at intervals, on both sides, sentinels were stationed,
+whilst outside, upon the field, stood commodious wooden barracks, capable
+of containing two regiments of infantry, intended to serve as guards
+upon the captives.&nbsp; Such was the station or prison at Norman Cross,
+where some six thousand French and other foreigners, followers of the
+grand Corsican, were now immured.<br>
+<br>
+What a strange appearance had those mighty casernes, with their blank
+blind walls, without windows or grating, and their slanting roofs, out
+of which, through orifices where the tiles had been removed, would be
+protruded dozens of grim heads, feasting their prison-sick eyes on the
+wide expanse of country unfolded from that airy height.&nbsp; Ah! there
+was much misery in those casernes; and from those roofs, doubtless,
+many a wistful look was turned in the direction of lovely France.&nbsp;
+Much had the poor inmates to endure, and much to complain of, to the
+disgrace of England be it said - of England, in general so kind and
+bountiful.&nbsp; Rations of carrion meat, and bread from which I have
+seen the very hounds occasionally turn away, were unworthy entertainment
+even for the most ruffian enemy, when helpless and a captive; and such,
+alas! was the fare in those casernes.&nbsp; And then, those visits,
+or rather ruthless inroads, called in the slang of the place &lsquo;strawplait-hunts,&rsquo;
+when in pursuit of a contraband article, which the prisoners, in order
+to procure themselves a few of the necessaries and comforts of existence,
+were in the habit of making, red-coated battalions were marched into
+the prisons, who, with the bayonet&rsquo;s point, carried havoc and
+ruin into every poor convenience which ingenious wretchedness had been
+endeavouring to raise around it; and then the triumphant exit with the
+miserable booty; and, worst of all, the accursed bonfire, on the barrack
+parade, of the plait contraband, beneath the view of the glaring eyeballs
+from those lofty roofs, amidst the hurrahs of the troops, frequently
+drowned in the curses poured down from above like a tempest-shower or
+in the terrific warw-hoop of &lsquo;<i>Vive l&rsquo;Empereur</i>!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+It was midsummer when we arrived at this place, and the weather, which
+had for a long time been wet and gloomy, now became bright and glorious;
+I was subjected to but little control, and passed my time pleasantly
+enough, principally in wandering about the neighbouring country.&nbsp;
+It was flat and somewhat fenny, a district more of pasture than agriculture,
+and not very thickly inhabited.&nbsp; I soon became well acquainted
+with it.&nbsp; At the distance of two miles from the station was a large
+lake, styled in the dialect of the country &lsquo;a mere,&rsquo; about
+whose borders tall reeds were growing in abundance, this was a frequent
+haunt of mine; but my favourite place of resort was a wild sequestered
+spot at a somewhat greater distance.&nbsp; Here, surrounded with woods
+and thick groves, was the seat of some ancient family, deserted by the
+proprietor, and only inhabited by a rustic servant or two.&nbsp; A place
+more solitary and wild could scarcely be imagined; the garden and walks
+were overgrown with weeds and briers, and the unpruned woods were so
+tangled as to be almost impervious.&nbsp; About this domain I would
+wander till overtaken by fatigue, and then I would sit down with my
+back against some beech, elm, or stately alder tree, and, taking out
+my book, would pass hours in a state of unmixed enjoyment, my eyes now
+fixed on the wondrous pages, now glancing at the sylvan scene around;
+and sometimes I would drop the book and listen to the voice of the rooks
+and wild pigeons, and not unfrequently to the croaking of multitudes
+of frogs from the neighbouring swamps and fens.<br>
+<br>
+In going to and from this place I frequently passed a tall elderly individual,
+dressed in rather a quaint fashion, with a skin cap on his head and
+stout gaiters on his legs; on his shoulders hung a moderate sized leathern
+sack; he seemed fond of loitering near sunny banks, and of groping amidst
+furze and low scrubby bramble bushes, of which there were plenty in
+the neighbourhood of Norman Cross.&nbsp; Once I saw him standing in
+the middle of a dusty road, looking intently at a large mark which seemed
+to have been drawn across it, as if by a walking stick.&nbsp; &lsquo;He
+must have been a large one,&rsquo; the old man muttered half to himself,
+&lsquo;or he would not have left such a trail, I wonder if he is near;
+he seems to have moved this way.&rsquo;&nbsp; He then went behind some
+bushes which grew on the right side of the road, and appeared to be
+in quest of something, moving behind the bushes with his head downwards,
+and occasionally striking their roots with his foot: at length he exclaimed,
+&lsquo;Here he is!&rsquo; and forthwith I saw him dart amongst the bushes.&nbsp;
+There was a kind of scuffling noise, the rustling of branches, and the
+crackling of dry sticks.&nbsp; &lsquo;I have him!&rsquo; said the man
+at last; &lsquo;I have got him!&rsquo; and presently he made his appearance
+about twenty yards down the road, holding a large viper in his hand.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;What do you think of that, my boy?&rsquo; said he, as I went
+up to him - &lsquo;what do you think of catching such a thing as that
+with the naked hand?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;What do I think?&rsquo; said
+I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Why, that I could do as much myself.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You
+do,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;do you?&nbsp; Lord! how the young people
+in these days are given to conceit; it did not use to be so in my time:
+when I was a child, childer knew how to behave themselves; but the childer
+of these days are full of conceit, full of froth, like the mouth of
+this viper&rsquo;; and with his forefinger and thumb he squeezed a considerable
+quantity of foam from the jaws of the viper down upon the road.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;The childer of these days are a generation of - God forgive me,
+what was I about to say?&rsquo; said the old man; and opening his bag
+he thrust the reptile into it, which appeared far from empty.&nbsp;
+I passed on.&nbsp; As I was returning, towards the evening, I overtook
+the old man, who was wending in the same direction.&nbsp; &lsquo;Good
+evening to you, sir,&rsquo; said I, taking off a cap which I wore on
+my head.&nbsp; &lsquo;Good evening,&rsquo; said the old man; and then,
+looking at me, &lsquo;How&rsquo;s this?&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;you aren&rsquo;t,
+sure, the child I met in the morning?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;I am; what makes you doubt it?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Why,
+you were then all froth and conceit,&rsquo; said the old man, &lsquo;and
+now you take off your cap to me.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I beg your pardon,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;if I was frothy and conceited; it ill becomes a child
+like me to be so.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;That&rsquo;s true, dear,&rsquo;
+said the old man; &lsquo;well, as you have begged my pardon, I truly
+forgive you.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Thank you,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;have
+you caught any more of those things?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Only four or
+five,&rsquo; said the old man; &lsquo;they are getting scarce, though
+this used to be a great neighbourhood for them.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;And
+what do you do with them?&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;do you carry them home
+and play with them?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I sometimes play with one or
+two that I tame,&rsquo; said the old man; &lsquo;but I hunt them mostly
+for the fat which they contain, out of which I make unguents which are
+good for various sore troubles, especially for the rheumatism.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;And do you get your living by hunting these creatures?&rsquo;
+I demanded.&nbsp; &lsquo;Not altogether,&rsquo; said the old man; &lsquo;besides
+being a viper-hunter, I am what they call a herbalist, one who knows
+the virtue of particular herbs; I gather them at the proper season,
+to make medicines with for the sick.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;And do you
+live in the neighbourhood?&rsquo; I demanded.&nbsp; &lsquo;You seem
+very fond of asking questions, child.&nbsp; No, I do not live in this
+neighbourhood in particular, I travel about; I have not been in this
+neighbourhood till lately for some years.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+From this time the old man and myself formed an acquaintance; I often
+accompanied him in his wanderings about the neighbourhood, and, on two
+or three occasions, assisted him in catching the reptiles which he hunted.&nbsp;
+He generally carried a viper with him which he had made quite tame,
+and from which he had extracted the poisonous fangs; it would dance
+and perform various kinds of tricks.&nbsp; He was fond of telling me
+anecdotes connected with his adventures with the reptile species.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said he one day, sighing, &lsquo;I must shortly give
+up this business, I am no longer the man I was, I am become timid, and
+when a person is timid in viper-hunting, he had better leave off, as
+it is quite clear his virtue is leaving him.&nbsp; I got a fright some
+years ago, which I am quite sure I shall never get the better of; my
+hand has been shaky more or less ever since.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;What
+frightened you?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;I had better not tell you,&rsquo;
+said the old man, &lsquo;or you may be frightened too, lose your virtue,
+and be no longer good for the business.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t
+care,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t intend to follow the business:
+I daresay I shall be an officer, like my father.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Well,&rsquo;
+said the old man, &lsquo;I once saw the king of the vipers, and since
+then - &rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;The king of the vipers!&rsquo; said I, interrupting
+him; &lsquo;have the vipers a king?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;As sure as we
+have,&rsquo; said the old man - &lsquo;as sure as we have King George
+to rule over us, have these reptiles a king to rule over them.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;And where did you see him?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;I will
+tell you,&rsquo; said the old man, &lsquo;though I don&rsquo;t like
+talking about the matter.&nbsp; It may be about seven years ago that
+I happened to be far down yonder to the west, on the other side of England,
+nearly two hundred miles from here, following my business.&nbsp; It
+was a very sultry day, I remember, and I had been out several hours
+catching creatures.&nbsp; It might be about three o&rsquo;clock in the
+afternoon, when I found myself on some heathy land near the sea, on
+the ridge of a hill, the side of which, nearly as far down as the sea,
+was heath; but on the top there was arable ground, which had been planted,
+and from which the harvest had been gathered - oats or barley, I know
+not which - but I remember that the ground was covered with stubble.&nbsp;
+Well, about three o&rsquo;clock, as I told you before, what with the
+heat of the day and from having walked about for hours in a lazy way,
+I felt very tired; so I determined to have a sleep, and I laid myself
+down, my head just on the ridge of the hill, towards the field, and
+my body over the side down amongst the heath; my bag, which was nearly
+filled with creatures, lay at a little distance from my face; the creatures
+were struggling in it, I remember, and I thought to myself, how much
+more comfortably off I was than they; I was taking my ease on the nice
+open hill, cooled with the breezes, whilst they were in the nasty close
+bag, coiling about one another, and breaking their very hearts, all
+to no purpose: and I felt quite comfortable and happy in the thought,
+and little by little closed my eyes, and fell into the sweetest snooze
+that ever I was in in all my life; and there I lay over the hill&rsquo;s
+side, with my head half in the field, I don&rsquo;t know how long, all
+dead asleep.&nbsp; At last it seemed to me that I heard a noise in my
+sleep, something like a thing moving, very faint, however, far away;
+then it died, and then it came again upon my ear as I slept, and now
+it appeared almost as if I heard crackle, crackle; then it died again,
+or I became yet more dead asleep than before, I know not which, but
+I certainly lay some time without hearing it.&nbsp; All of a sudden
+I became awake, and there was I, on the ridge of the hill, with my cheek
+on the ground towards the stubble, with a noise in my ear like that
+of something moving towards me amongst the stubble of the field; well,
+I lay a moment or two listening to the noise, and then I became frightened,
+for I did not like the noise at all, it sounded so odd; so I rolled
+myself on my belly, and looked towards the stubble.&nbsp; Mercy upon
+us! there was a huge snake, or rather a dreadful viper, for it was all
+yellow and gold, moving towards me, bearing its head about a foot and
+a half above the ground, the dry stubble crackling beneath its outrageous
+belly.&nbsp; It might be about five yards off when I first saw it, making
+straight towards me, child, as if it would devour me.&nbsp; I lay quite
+still, for I was stupefied with horror, whilst the creature came still
+nearer; and now it was nearly upon me, when it suddenly drew back a
+little, and then - what do you think? - it lifted its head and chest
+high in the air, and high over my face as I looked up, flickering at
+me with its tongue as if it would fly at my face.&nbsp; Child, what
+I felt at that moment I can scarcely say, but it was a sufficient punishment
+for all the sins I ever committed; and there we two were, I looking
+up at the viper, and the viper looking down upon me, flickering at me
+with its tongue.&nbsp; It was only the kindness of God that saved me:
+all at once there was a loud noise, the report of a gun, for a fowler
+was shooting at a covey of birds, a little way off in the stubble.&nbsp;
+Whereupon the viper sunk its head, and immediately made off over the
+ridge of the hill, down in the direction of the sea.&nbsp; As it passed
+by me, however - and it passed close by me - it hesitated a moment,
+as if it was doubtful whether it should not seize me; it did not, however,
+but made off down the hill.&nbsp; It has often struck me that he was
+angry with me, and came upon me unawares for presuming to meddle with
+his people, as I have always been in the habit of doing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;how do you know that it was the king
+of the vipers?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How do I know!&rsquo; said the old man, &lsquo;who else should
+it be?&nbsp; There was as much difference between it and other reptiles
+as between King George and other people.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is King George, then, different from other people?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Of course,&rsquo; said the old man; &lsquo;I have never seen
+him myself, but I have heard people say that he is a ten times greater
+man than other folks; indeed, it stands to reason that he must be different
+from the rest, else people would not be so eager to see him.&nbsp; Do
+you think, child, that people would be fools enough to run a matter
+of twenty or thirty miles to see the king, provided King George - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Haven&rsquo;t the French a king?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the old man, &lsquo;or something much the same,
+and a queer one he is; not quite so big as King George, they say, but
+quite as terrible a fellow.&nbsp; What of him?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Suppose he should come to Norman Cross!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What should he do at Norman Cross, child?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, you were talking about the vipers in your bag breaking their
+hearts, and so on, and their king coming to help them.&nbsp; Now, suppose
+the French king should hear of his people being in trouble at Norman
+Cross, and - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He can&rsquo;t come, child,&rsquo; said the old man, rubbing
+his hands, &lsquo;the water lies between.&nbsp; The French don&rsquo;t
+like the water; neither vipers nor Frenchmen take kindly to the water,
+child.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+When the old man left the country, which he did a few days after the
+conversation which I have just related, he left me the reptile which
+he had tamed and rendered quite harmless by removing the fangs.&nbsp;
+I was in the habit of feeding it with milk, and frequently carried it
+abroad with me in my walks.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER V<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The tent - Man and woman - Dark and swarthy - Manner of speaking - Bad
+money - Transfixed - Faltering tone - Little basket - High opinion -
+Plenty of good - Keeping guard - Tilted cart - Rubricals - Jasper -
+The right sort - The horseman of the lane - John Newton - The alarm
+- Gentle brothers.<br>
+<br>
+One day it happened that, being on my rambles, I entered a green lane
+which I had never seen before; at first it was rather narrow, but as
+I advanced it became considerably wider; in the middle was a driftway
+with deep ruts, but right and left was a space carpeted with a sward
+of trefoil and clover; there was no lack of trees, chiefly ancient oaks,
+which, flinging out their arms from either side, nearly formed a canopy,
+and afforded a pleasing shelter from the rays of the sun, which was
+burning fiercely above.&nbsp; Suddenly a group of objects attracted
+my attention.&nbsp; Beneath one of the largest of the trees, upon the
+grass, was a kind of low tent or booth, from the top of which a thin
+smoke was curling; beside it stood a couple of light carts, whilst two
+or three lean horses or ponies were cropping the herbage which was growing
+nigh.&nbsp; Wondering to whom this odd tent could belong, I advanced
+till I was close before it, when I found that it consisted of two tilts,
+like those of waggons, placed upon the ground and fronting each other,
+connected behind by a sail or large piece of canvas which was but partially
+drawn across the top; upon the ground, in the intervening space, was
+a fire, over which, supported by a kind of iron crowbar, hung a caldron;
+my advance had been so noiseless as not to alarm the inmates, who consisted
+of a man and woman, who sat apart, one on each side of the fire; they
+were both busily employed - the man was carding plaited straw, whilst
+the woman seemed to be rubbing something with a white powder, some of
+which lay on a plate beside her; suddenly the man looked up, and, perceiving
+me, uttered a strange kind of cry, and the next moment both the woman
+and himself were on their feet and rushing out upon me.<br>
+<br>
+I retreated a few steps, yet without turning to flee.&nbsp; I was not,
+however, without apprehension, which, indeed, the appearance of these
+two people was well calculated to inspire: the woman was a stout figure,
+seemingly between thirty and forty; she wore no cap, and her long hair
+fell on either side of her head like horse-tails half-way down her waist;
+her skin was dark and swarthy, like that of a toad, and the expression
+of her countenance was particularly evil; her arms were bare, and her
+bosom was but half concealed by a slight bodice, below which she wore
+a coarse petticoat, her only other article of dress.&nbsp; The man was
+somewhat younger, but of a figure equally wild; his frame was long and
+lathy, but his arms were remarkably short, his neck was rather bent,
+he squinted slightly, and his mouth was much awry; his complexion was
+dark, but, unlike that of the woman, was more ruddy than livid; there
+was a deep scar on his cheek, something like the impression of a halfpenny.&nbsp;
+The dress was quite in keeping with the figure: in his hat, which was
+slightly peaked, was stuck a peacock&rsquo;s feather; over a waistcoat
+of hide, untanned and with the hair upon it, he wore a rough jerkin
+of russet hue; smallclothes of leather, which had probably once belonged
+to a soldier, but with which pipeclay did not seem to have come in contact
+for many a year, protected his lower man as far as the knee; his legs
+were cased in long stockings of blue worsted, and on his shoes he wore
+immense old-fashioned buckles.<br>
+<br>
+Such were the two beings who now came rushing upon me; the man was rather
+in advance, brandishing a ladle in his hand.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So I have caught you at last,&rsquo; said he; &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll
+teach ye, you young highwayman, to come skulking about my properties!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Young as I was, I remarked that his manner of speaking was different
+from that of any people with whom I had been in the habit of associating.&nbsp;
+It was quite as strange as his appearance, and yet it nothing resembled
+the foreign English which I had been in the habit of hearing through
+the palisades of the prison; he could scarcely be a foreigner.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Your properties!&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I am in the King&rsquo;s
+Lane.&nbsp; Why did you put them there, if you did not wish them to
+be seen?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;On the spy,&rsquo; said the woman, &lsquo;hey?&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll
+drown him in the sludge in the toad-pond over the hedge.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So we will,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;drown him anon in the
+mud!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Drown me, will you?&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I should like to see
+you!&nbsp; What&rsquo;s all this about?&nbsp; Was it because I saw you
+with your hands full of straw plait, and my mother there - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the woman; &lsquo;what was I about?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; How should I know?&nbsp; Making bad money, perhaps!<br>
+<br>
+And it will be as well here to observe, that at this time there was
+much bad money in circulation in the neighbourhood, generally supposed
+to be fabricated by the prisoners, so that this false coin and straw
+plait formed the standard subjects of conversation at Norman Cross.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;ll strangle thee,&rsquo; said the beldame, dashing at
+me.&nbsp; &lsquo;Bad money, is it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Leave him to me, wifelkin,&rsquo; said the man, interposing;
+&lsquo;you shall now see how I&rsquo;ll baste him down the lane.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; I tell you what, my chap, you had better put down
+that thing of yours; my father lies concealed within my tepid breast,
+and if to me you offer any harm or wrong, I&rsquo;ll call him forth
+to help me with his forked tongue.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; What do you mean, ye Bengui&rsquo;s bantling?&nbsp;
+I never heard such discourse in all my life: playman&rsquo;s speech
+or Frenchman&rsquo;s talk - which, I wonder?&nbsp; Your father!&nbsp;
+Tell the mumping villain that if he comes near my fire I&rsquo;ll serve
+him out as I will you.&nbsp; Take that -&nbsp; Tiny Jesus! what have
+we got here?&nbsp; Oh, delicate Jesus! what is the matter with the child?<br>
+<br>
+I had made a motion which the viper understood; and now, partly disengaging
+itself from my bosom, where it had lain perdu, it raised its head to
+a level with my face, and stared upon my enemy with its glittering eyes.<br>
+<br>
+The man stood like one transfixed, and the ladle, with which he had
+aimed a blow at me, now hung in the air like the hand which held it;
+his mouth was extended, and his cheeks became of a pale yellow, save
+alone that place which bore the mark which I have already described,
+and this shone now portentously, like fire.&nbsp; He stood in this manner
+for some time; at last the ladle fell from his hand, and its falling
+appeared to rouse him from his stupor.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I say, wifelkin,&rsquo; said he, in a faltering tone, &lsquo;did
+you ever see the like of this here?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But the woman had retreated to the tent, from the entrance of which
+her loathly face was now thrust, with an expression partly of terror
+and partly of curiosity.&nbsp; After gazing some time longer at the
+viper and myself, the man stooped down and took up the ladle; then,
+as if somewhat more assured, he moved to the tent, where he entered
+into conversation with the beldame in a low voice.&nbsp; Of their discourse,
+though I could hear the greater part of it, I understood not a single
+word; and I wondered what it could be, for I knew by the sound that
+it was not French.&nbsp; At last the man, in a somewhat louder tone,
+appeared to put a question to the woman, who nodded her head affirmatively,
+and in a moment or two produced a small stool, which she delivered to
+him.&nbsp; He placed it on the ground, close by the door of the tent,
+first rubbing it with his sleeve, as if for the purpose of polishing
+its surface.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; Now, my precious little gentleman, do sit down here
+by the poor people&rsquo;s tent; we wish to be civil in our slight way.&nbsp;
+Don&rsquo;t be angry, and say no; but look kindly upon us, and satisfied,
+my precious little God Almighty.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Woman</i>.&nbsp; Yes, my gorgeous angel, sit down by the poor bodies&rsquo;
+fire, and eat a sweetmeat.&nbsp; We want to ask you a question or two;
+only first put that serpent away.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; I can sit down, and bid the serpent go to sleep,
+that&rsquo;s easy enough; but as for eating a sweetmeat, how can I do
+that?&nbsp; I have not got one, and where am I to get it?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Woman</i>.&nbsp; Never fear, my tiny tawny, we can give you one,
+such as you never ate, I daresay, however far you may have come from.<br>
+<br>
+The serpent sank into its usual resting-place, and I sat down on the
+stool.&nbsp; The woman opened a box, and took out a strange little basket
+or hamper, not much larger than a man&rsquo;s fist, and formed of a
+delicate kind of matting.&nbsp; It was sewed at the top; but, ripping
+it open with a knife, she held it to me, and I saw, to my surprise,
+that it contained candied fruits of a dark green hue, tempting enough
+to one of my age.&nbsp; &lsquo;There, my tiny,&rsquo; said she; &lsquo;taste,
+and tell me how you like them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very much,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;where did you get them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The beldame leered upon me for a moment, then, nodding her head thrice,
+with a knowing look, said, &lsquo;Who knows better than yourself, my
+tawny?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Now, I knew nothing about the matter; but I saw that these strange people
+had conceived a very high opinion of the abilities of their visitor,
+which I was nothing loth to encourage.&nbsp; I therefore answered boldly,
+&lsquo;Ah! who indeed!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Certainly,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;who should know better
+than yourself, or so well?&nbsp; And now, my tiny one, let me ask you
+one thing - you didn&rsquo;t come to do us any harm?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I had no dislike to you; though, if
+you were to meddle with me - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; Of course, my gorgeous, of course you would; and quite
+right too.&nbsp; Meddle with you! - what right have we?&nbsp; I should
+say, it would not be quite safe.&nbsp; I see how it is; you are one
+of them there; - and he bent his head towards his left shoulder.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Yes, I am one of them - for I thought he was alluding
+to the soldiers, - you had best mind what you are about, I can tell
+you.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t doubt we will for our own sake; Lord bless
+you, wifelkin, only think that we should see one of them there when
+we least thought about it.&nbsp; Well, I have heard of such things,
+though I never thought to see one; however, seeing is believing.&nbsp;
+Well! now you are come, and are not going to do us any mischief, I hope
+you will stay; you can do us plenty of good if you will.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; What good could I do you?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; What good? plenty!&nbsp; Would you not bring us luck?&nbsp;
+I have heard say that one of them there always does, if it will but
+settle down.&nbsp; Stay with us, you shall have a tilted cart all to
+yourself if you like.&nbsp; We&rsquo;ll make you our little God Almighty,
+and say our prayers to you every morning!<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; That would be nice; and, if you were to give me
+plenty of these things, I should have no objection.&nbsp; But what would
+my father say?&nbsp; I think he would hardly let me.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; Why not? he would be with you; and kindly would we
+treat him.&nbsp; Indeed, without your father you would be nothing at
+all.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; That&rsquo;s true; but I do not think he could
+be spared from his regiment.&nbsp; I have heard him say that they could
+do nothing without him.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; His regiment!&nbsp; What are you talking about? -
+what does the child mean?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; What do I mean! - why, that my father is an officer-man
+at the barracks yonder, keeping guard over the French prisoners.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; Oh! then that sap is not your father?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; What, the snake?&nbsp; Why, no!&nbsp; Did you think
+he was?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; To be sure we did.&nbsp; Didn&rsquo;t you tell me
+so?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Why, yes; but who would have thought you would
+have believed it?&nbsp; It is a tame one.&nbsp; I hunt vipers, and tame
+them.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; O-h!<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;O-h!&rsquo; grunted the woman, &lsquo;that&rsquo;s it, is it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man and woman, who during this conversation had resumed their former
+positions within the tent, looked at each other with a queer look of
+surprise, as if somewhat disconcerted at what they now heard.&nbsp;
+They then entered into discourse with each other in the same strange
+tongue which had already puzzled me.&nbsp; At length the man looked
+me in the face, and said, somewhat hesitatingly, &lsquo;So you are not
+one of them there after all?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; One of them there?&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t know what
+you mean.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; Why, we have been thinking you were a goblin - a devilkin!&nbsp;
+However, I see how it is: you are a sap-engro, a chap who catches snakes,
+and plays tricks with them!&nbsp; Well, it comes very nearly to the
+same thing; and if you please to list with us, and bear us pleasant
+company, we shall be glad of you.&nbsp; I&rsquo;d take my oath upon
+it, that we might make a mort of money by you and that sap, and the
+tricks it could do; and, as you seem fly to everything, I shouldn&rsquo;t
+wonder if you would make a prime hand at telling fortunes.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t wonder,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Man</i>.&nbsp; Of course.&nbsp; And you might still be our God Almighty,
+or at any rate our clergyman, so you should live in a tilted cart by
+yourself, and say prayers to us night and morning - to wifelkin here,
+and all our family; there&rsquo;s plenty of us when we are all together:
+as I said before, you seem fly, I shouldn&rsquo;t wonder if you could
+read?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh yes!&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I can read&rsquo;; and, eager to
+display my accomplishments, I took my book out of my pocket, and, opening
+it at random, proceeded to read how a certain man, whilst wandering
+about a certain solitary island, entered a cave, the mouth of which
+was overgrown with brushwood, and how he was nearly frightened to death
+in that cave by something which he saw.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That will do,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;that&rsquo;s the kind
+of prayers for me and my family, aren&rsquo;t they, wifelkin?&nbsp;
+I never heard more delicate prayers in all my life!&nbsp; Why, they
+beat the rubricals hollow! - and here comes my son Jasper.&nbsp; I say,
+Jasper, here&rsquo;s a young sap-engro that can read, and is more fly
+than yourself.&nbsp; Shake hands with him; I wish ye to be two brothers.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+With a swift but stealthy pace Jasper came towards us from the farther
+part of the lane; on reaching the tent he stood still, and looked fixedly
+upon me as I sat upon the stool; I looked fixedly upon him.&nbsp; A
+queer look had Jasper; he was a lad of some twelve or thirteen years,
+with long arms, unlike the singular being who called himself his father;
+his complexion was ruddy, but his face was seamed, though it did not
+bear the peculiar scar which disfigured the countenance of the other;
+nor, though roguish enough, a certain evil expression which that of
+the other bore, and which the face of the woman possessed in a yet more
+remarkable degree.&nbsp; For the rest, he wore drab breeches, with certain
+strings at the knee, a rather gay waistcoat, and tolerably white shirt;
+under his arm he bore a mighty whip of whalebone with a brass knob,
+and upon his head was a hat without either top or brim.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There, Jasper! shake hands with the sap-engro.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Can he box, father?&rsquo; said Jasper, surveying me rather contemptuously.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I should think not, he looks so puny and small.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hold your peace, fool!&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;he can do
+more than that - I tell you he&rsquo;s fly: he carries a sap about,
+which would sting a ninny like you to dead.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What, a sap-engro!&rsquo; said the boy, with a singular whine,
+and, stooping down, he leered curiously in my face, kindly, however,
+and then patted me on the head.&nbsp; &lsquo;A sap-engro,&rsquo; he
+ejaculated; &lsquo;lor!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, and one of the right sort,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;I
+am glad we have met with him, he is going to list with us, and be our
+clergyman and God Almighty, ain&rsquo;t you, my tawny?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I must see what my
+father will say.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Your father; bah!&rsquo; - but here he stopped, for a sound was
+heard like the rapid galloping of a horse, not loud and distinct as
+on a road, but dull and heavy as if upon a grass sward; nearer and nearer
+it came, and the man, starting up, rushed out of the tent, and looked
+around anxiously.&nbsp; I arose from the stool upon which I had been
+seated, and just at that moment, amidst a crashing of boughs and sticks,
+a man on horseback bounded over the hedge into the lane at a few yards&rsquo;
+distance from where we were: from the impetus of the leap the horse
+was nearly down on his knees; the rider, however, by dint of vigorous
+handling of the reins, prevented him from falling, and then rode up
+to the tent.&nbsp; &lsquo;&rsquo;Tis Nat,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;what
+brings him here?&rsquo;&nbsp; The new-comer was a stout burly fellow,
+about the middle age; he had a savage determined look, and his face
+was nearly covered over with carbuncles; he wore a broad slouching hat,
+and was dressed in a gray coat, cut in a fashion which I afterwards
+learnt to be the genuine Newmarket cut, the skirts being exceedingly
+short; his waistcoat was of red plush, and he wore broad corduroy breeches
+and white top-boots.&nbsp; The steed which carried him was of iron gray,
+spirited and powerful, but covered with sweat and foam.&nbsp; The fellow
+glanced fiercely and suspiciously around, and said something to the
+man of the tent in a harsh and rapid voice.&nbsp; A short and hurried
+conversation ensued in the strange tongue.&nbsp; I could not take my
+eyes off this new-comer.&nbsp; Oh, that half-jockey, half-bruiser countenance,
+I never forgot it!&nbsp; More than fifteen years afterwards I found
+myself amidst a crowd before Newgate; a gallows was erected, and beneath
+it stood a criminal, a notorious malefactor.&nbsp; I recognised him
+at once; the horseman of the lane is now beneath the fatal tree, but
+nothing altered; still the same man; jerking his head to the right and
+left with the same fierce and under glance, just as if the affairs of
+this world had the same kind of interest to the last; gray coat of Newmarket
+cut, plush waistcoat, corduroys, and boots, nothing altered; but the
+head, alas! is bare, and so is the neck.&nbsp; Oh, crime and virtue,
+virtue and crime! - it was old John Newton, I think, who, when he saw
+a man going to be hanged, said, &lsquo;There goes John Newton, but for
+the grace of God!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But the lane, the lane, all was now in confusion in the lane; the man
+and woman were employed in striking the tents and in making hurried
+preparations for departure; the boy Jasper was putting the harness upon
+the ponies and attaching them to the carts; and, to increase the singularity
+of the scene, two or three wild-looking women and girls, in red cloaks
+and immense black beaver bonnets, came from I know not what direction,
+and, after exchanging a few words with the others, commenced with fierce
+and agitated gestures to assist them in their occupation.&nbsp; The
+rider meanwhile sat upon his horse, but evidently in a state of great
+impatience; he muttered curses between his teeth, spurred the animal
+furiously, and then reined it in, causing it to rear itself up nearly
+perpendicular.&nbsp; At last he said, &lsquo;Curse ye for Romans, how
+slow ye are! well, it is no business of mine, stay here all day if you
+like; I have given ye warning, I am off to the big north road.&nbsp;
+However, before I go, you had better give me all you have of that.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Truly spoken, Nat, my pal,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;give it
+him, mother.&nbsp; There it is; now be off as soon as you please, and
+rid us of evil company.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The woman had handed him two bags formed of stocking, half full of something
+heavy, which looked through them for all the world like money of some
+kind.&nbsp; The fellow, on receiving them, thrust them without ceremony
+into the pockets of his coat, and then, without a word of farewell salutation,
+departed at a tremendous rate, the hoofs of his horse thundering for
+a long time on the hard soil of the neighbouring road, till the sound
+finally died away in the distance.&nbsp; The strange people were not
+slow in completing their preparations, and then, flogging their animals
+terrifically, hurried away seemingly in the same direction.<br>
+<br>
+The boy Jasper was last of the band.&nbsp; As he was following the rest,
+he stopped suddenly, and looked on the ground appearing to muse; then,
+turning round, he came up to me where I was standing, leered in my face,
+and then, thrusting out his hand, he said, &lsquo;Good-bye, Sap, I daresay
+we shall meet again, remember we are brothers; two gentle brothers.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Then whining forth, &lsquo;What a sap-engro, lor!&rsquo; he gave me
+a parting leer, and hastened away.<br>
+<br>
+I remained standing in the lane gazing after the retreating company.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;A strange set of people,&rsquo; said I at last; &lsquo;wonder
+who they can be?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER VI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Three years - Lilly&rsquo;s grammar - Proficiency - Ignorant of figures
+- The school bell - Order of succession - Persecution - What are we
+to do? - Northward - A goodly scene - Haunted ground - Feats of chivalry
+- Rivers - Over the brig.<br>
+<br>
+Years passed on, even three years; during this period I had increased
+considerably in stature and in strength, and, let us hope, improved
+in mind; for I had entered on the study of the Latin language.&nbsp;
+The very first person to whose care I was intrusted for the acquisition
+of Latin was an old friend of my fathers, a clergyman who kept a seminary
+at a town the very next we visited after our departure from &lsquo;the
+Cross.&rsquo;&nbsp; Under his instruction, however, I continued only
+a few weeks, as we speedily left the place.&nbsp; &lsquo;Captain,&rsquo;
+said this divine, when my father came to take leave of him on the eve
+of our departure, &lsquo;I have a friendship for you, and therefore
+wish to give you a piece of advice concerning this son of yours.&nbsp;
+You are now removing him from my care; you do wrong, but we will let
+that pass.&nbsp; Listen to me: there is but one good school-book in
+the world - the one I use in my seminary - Lilly&rsquo;s Latin grammar,
+in which your son has already made some progress.&nbsp; If you are anxious
+for the success of your son in life, for the correctness of his conduct
+and the soundness of his principles, keep him to Lilly&rsquo;s grammar.&nbsp;
+If you can by any means, either fair or foul, induce him to get by heart
+Lilly&rsquo;s Latin grammar, you may set your heart at rest with respect
+to him; I, myself, will be his warrant.&nbsp; I never yet knew a boy
+that was induced, either by fair means or foul, to learn Lilly&rsquo;s
+Latin grammar by heart, who did not turn out a man, provided he lived
+long enough.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+My father, who did not understand the classical languages, received
+with respect the advice of his old friend, and from that moment conceived
+the highest opinion of Lilly&rsquo;s Latin grammar.&nbsp; During three
+years I studied Lilly&rsquo;s Latin grammar under the tuition of various
+schoolmasters, for I travelled with the regiment, and in every town
+in which we were stationary I was invariably (God bless my father!)
+sent to the classical academy of the place.&nbsp; It chanced, by good
+fortune, that in the generality of these schools the grammar of Lilly
+was in use; when, however, that was not the case, it made no difference
+in my educational course, my father always stipulating with the masters
+that I should be daily examined in Lilly.&nbsp; At the end of the three
+years I had the whole by heart; you had only to repeat the first two
+or three words of any sentence in any part of the book, and forthwith
+I would open cry, commencing without blundering and hesitation, and
+continue till you were glad to beg me to leave off, with many expressions
+of admiration at my proficiency in the Latin language.&nbsp; Sometimes,
+however, to convince you how well I merited these encomiums, I would
+follow you to the bottom of the stair, and even into the street, repeating
+in a kind of sing-song measure the sonorous lines of the golden schoolmaster.&nbsp;
+If I am here asked whether I understood anything of what I had got by
+heart, I reply - &lsquo;Never mind, I understand it all now, and believe
+that no one ever yet got Lilly&rsquo;s Latin grammar by heart when young,
+who repented of the feat at a mature age.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And, when my father saw that I had accomplished my task, he opened his
+mouth, and said, &lsquo;Truly, this is more than I expected.&nbsp; I
+did not think that there had been so much in you, either of application
+or capacity; you have now learnt all that is necessary, if my friend
+Dr. B-&rsquo;s opinion was sterling, as I have no doubt it was.&nbsp;
+You are still a child, however, and must yet go to school, in order
+that you may be kept out of evil company.&nbsp; Perhaps you may still
+contrive, now you have exhausted the barn, to pick up a grain or two
+in the barn-yard.&nbsp; You are still ignorant of figures, I believe,
+not that I would mention figures in the same day with Lilly&rsquo;s
+grammar.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+These words were uttered in a place called -, in the north, or in the
+road to the north, to which, for some time past, our corps had been
+slowly advancing.&nbsp; I was sent to the school of the place, which
+chanced to be a day school.&nbsp; It was a somewhat extraordinary one,
+and a somewhat extraordinary event occurred to me within its walls.<br>
+<br>
+It occupied part of the farther end of a small plain, or square, at
+the outskirts of the town, close to some extensive bleaching fields.&nbsp;
+It was a long low building of one room, with no upper story; on the
+top was a kind of wooden box, or sconce, which I at first mistook for
+a pigeon-house, but which in reality contained a bell, to which was
+attached a rope, which, passing through the ceiling, hung dangling in
+the middle of the school-room.&nbsp; I am the more particular in mentioning
+this appurtenance, as I had soon occasion to scrape acquaintance with
+it in a manner not very agreeable to my feelings.&nbsp; The master was
+very proud of his bell, if I might judge from the fact of his eyes being
+frequently turned to that part of the ceiling from which the rope depended.&nbsp;
+Twice every day, namely, after the morning and evening tasks had been
+gone through, were the boys rung out of school by the monotonous jingle
+of this bell.&nbsp; This ringing out was rather a lengthy affair, for,
+as the master was a man of order and method, the boys were only permitted
+to go out of the room one by one; and as they were rather numerous,
+amounting, at least, to one hundred, and were taught to move at a pace
+of suitable decorum, at least a quarter of an hour elapsed from the
+commencement of the march before the last boy could make his exit.&nbsp;
+The office of bell-ringer was performed by every boy successively; and
+it so happened that, the very first day of my attendance at the school,
+the turn to ring the bell had, by order of succession, arrived at the
+place which had been allotted to me; for the master, as I have already
+observed, was a man of method and order, and every boy had a particular
+seat, to which he became a fixture as long as he continued at the school.<br>
+<br>
+So, upon this day, when the tasks were done and completed, and the boys
+sat with their hats and caps in their hands, anxiously expecting the
+moment of dismissal, it was suddenly notified to me, by the urchins
+who sat nearest to me, that I must get up and ring the bell.&nbsp; Now,
+as this was the first time that I had been at the school, I was totally
+unacquainted with the process, which I had never seen, and, indeed,
+had never heard of till that moment.&nbsp; I therefore sat still, not
+imagining it possible that any such duty could be required of me.&nbsp;
+But now, with not a little confusion, I perceived that the eyes of all
+the boys in the school were fixed upon me.&nbsp; Presently there were
+nods and winks in the direction of the bell-rope; and, as these produced
+no effect, uncouth visages were made, like those of monkeys when enraged;
+teeth were gnashed, tongues thrust out, and even fists were bent at
+me.&nbsp; The master, who stood at the end of the room, with a huge
+ferule under his arm, bent full upon me a look of stern appeal; and
+the ushers, of whom there were four, glared upon me, each from his own
+particular corner, as I vainly turned, in one direction and another,
+in search of one reassuring look.<br>
+<br>
+But now, probably in obedience to a sign from the master, the boys in
+my immediate neighbourhood began to maltreat me. Some pinched me with
+their fingers, some buffeted me, whilst others pricked me with pins,
+or the points of compasses.&nbsp; These arguments were not without effect.&nbsp;
+I sprang from my seat, and endeavoured to escape along a double line
+of benches, thronged with boys of all ages, from the urchin of six or
+seven to the nondescript of sixteen or seventeen.&nbsp; It was like
+running the gauntlet; every one, great or small, pinching, kicking,
+or otherwise maltreating me, as I passed by.<br>
+<br>
+Goaded on in this manner, I at length reached the middle of the room,
+where dangled the bell-rope, the cause of all my sufferings.&nbsp; I
+should have passed it - for my confusion was so great that I was quite
+at a loss to comprehend what all this could mean, and almost believed
+myself under the influence of an ugly dream - but now the boys, who
+were seated in advance in the row, arose with one accord, and barred
+my farther progress; and one, doubtless more sensible than the rest,
+seizing the rope, thrust it into my hand.&nbsp; I now began to perceive
+that the dismissal of the school, and my own release from torment, depended
+upon this selfsame rope.&nbsp; I therefore, in a fit of desperation,
+pulled it once or twice, and then left off, naturally supposing that
+I had done quite enough.&nbsp; The boys who sat next the door no sooner
+heard the bell, than, rising from their seats, they moved out at the
+door.&nbsp; The bell, however, had no sooner ceased to jingle, than
+they stopped short, and, turning round, stared at the master, as much
+as to say, &lsquo;What are we to do now?&rsquo;&nbsp; This was too much
+for the patience of the man of method, which my previous stupidity had
+already nearly exhausted.&nbsp; Dashing forward into the middle of the
+room, he struck me violently on the shoulders with his ferule, and,
+snatching the rope out of my hand, exclaimed, with a stentorian voice,
+and genuine Yorkshire accent, &lsquo;Prodigy of ignorance! dost not
+even know how to ring a bell?&nbsp; Must I myself instruct thee?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+He then commenced pulling at the bell with such violence that long before
+half the school was dismissed the rope broke, and the rest of the boys
+had to depart without their accustomed music.<br>
+<br>
+But I must not linger here, though I could say much about the school
+and the pedagogue highly amusing and diverting, which, however, I suppress,
+in order to make way for matters of yet greater interest.&nbsp; On we
+went, northward, northward! and, as we advanced, I saw that the country
+was becoming widely different from those parts of merry England in which
+we had previously travelled.&nbsp; It was wilder, and less cultivated,
+and more broken with hills and hillocks.&nbsp; The people, too, of these
+regions appeared to partake of something of the character of their country.&nbsp;
+They were coarsely dressed; tall and sturdy of frame; their voices were
+deep and guttural; and the half of the dialect which they spoke was
+unintelligible to my ears.<br>
+<br>
+I often wondered where we could be going, for I was at this time about
+as ignorant of geography as I was of most other things.&nbsp; However,
+I held my peace, asked no questions, and patiently awaited the issue.<br>
+<br>
+Northward, northward, still!&nbsp; And it came to pass that, one morning,
+I found myself extended on the bank of a river.&nbsp; It was a beautiful
+morning of early spring; small white clouds were floating in the heaven,
+occasionally veiling the countenance of the sun, whose light, as they
+retired, would again burst forth, coursing like a race-horse over the
+scene - and a goodly scene it was!&nbsp; Before me, across the water,
+on an eminence, stood a white old city, surrounded with lofty walls,
+above which rose the tops of tall houses, with here and there a church
+or steeple.&nbsp; To my right hand was a long and massive bridge, with
+many arches, and of antique architecture, which traversed the river.&nbsp;
+The river was a noble one; the broadest that I had hitherto seen.&nbsp;
+Its waters, of a greenish tinge, poured with impetuosity beneath the
+narrow arches to meet the sea, close at hand, as the boom of the billows
+breaking distinctly upon a beach declared.&nbsp; There were songs upon
+the river from the fisher-barks; and occasionally a chorus, plaintive
+and wild, such as I had never heard before, the words of which I did
+not understand, but which, at the present time, down the long avenue
+of years, seem in memory&rsquo;s ear to sound like &lsquo;Horam, coram,
+dago.&rsquo;&nbsp; Several robust fellows were near me, some knee-deep
+in water, employed in hauling the seine upon the strand.&nbsp; Huge
+fish were struggling amidst the meshes - princely salmon, - their brilliant
+mail of blue and silver flashing in the morning beam; so goodly and
+gay a scene, in truth, had never greeted my boyish eye.<br>
+<br>
+And, as I gazed upon the prospect, my bosom began to heave, and my tears
+to trickle.&nbsp; Was it the beauty of the scene which gave rise to
+these emotions?&nbsp; Possibly; for though a poor ignorant child - a
+half-wild creature - I was not insensible to the loveliness of nature,
+and took pleasure in the happiness and handiworks of my fellow-creatures.&nbsp;
+Yet, perhaps, in something more deep and mysterious the feelings which
+then pervaded me might originate.&nbsp; Who can lie down on Elvir Hill
+without experiencing something of the sorcery of the place?&nbsp; Flee
+from Elvir Hill, young swain, or the maids of Elle will have power over
+you, and you will go elf-wild! - so say the Danes.&nbsp; I had unconsciously
+laid myself down upon haunted ground; and I am willing to imagine that
+what I then experienced was rather connected with the world of spirits
+and dreams than with what I actually saw and heard around me.&nbsp;
+Surely the elves and genii of the place were conversing, by some inscrutable
+means, with the principle of intelligence lurking within the poor uncultivated
+clod!&nbsp; Perhaps to that ethereal principle the wonders of the past,
+as connected with that stream, the glories of the present, and even
+the history of the future, were at that moment being revealed!&nbsp;
+Of how many feats of chivalry had those old walls been witness, when
+hostile kings contended for their possession! - how many an army from
+the south and from the north had trod that old bridge! - what red and
+noble blood had crimsoned those rushing waters!-what strains had been
+sung, ay, were yet being sung, on its banks! - some soft as Doric reed;
+some fierce and sharp as those of Norwegian Skaldaglam; some as replete
+with wild and wizard force as Finland&rsquo;s runes, singing of Kalevala&rsquo;s
+moors, and the deeds of Woinomoinen!&nbsp; Honour to thee, thou island
+stream!&nbsp; Onward may thou ever roll, fresh and green, rejoicing
+in thy bright past, thy glorious present, and in vivid hope of a triumphant
+future!&nbsp; Flow on, beautiful one! - which of the world&rsquo;s streams
+canst thou envy, with thy beauty and renown?&nbsp; Stately is the Danube,
+rolling in its might through lands romantic with the wild exploits of
+Turk, Polak, and Magyar!&nbsp; Lovely is the Rhine! on its shelvy banks
+grows the racy grape; and strange old keeps of robber-knights of yore
+are reflected in its waters, from picturesque crags and airy headlands!
+- yet neither the stately Danube nor the beauteous Rhine, with all their
+fame, though abundant, needst thou envy, thou pure island stream! -
+and far less yon turbid river of old, not modern renown, gurgling beneath
+the walls of what was once proud Rome, towering Rome, Jupiter&rsquo;s
+town, but now vile Rome, crumbling Rome, Batuscha&rsquo;s town, far
+less needst thou envy the turbid Tiber of bygone fame, creeping sadly
+to the sea, surcharged with the abominations of modern Rome - how unlike
+to thee, thou pure island stream!<br>
+<br>
+And, as I lay on the bank and wept, there drew nigh to me a man in the
+habiliments of a fisher.&nbsp; He was bare-legged, of a weather-beaten
+countenance, and of stature approaching to the gigantic.&nbsp; &lsquo;What
+is the callant greeting for?&rsquo; said he, as he stopped and surveyed
+me.&nbsp; &lsquo;Has onybody wrought ye ony harm?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not that I know of,&rsquo; I replied, rather guessing at than
+understanding his question; &lsquo;I was crying because I could not
+help it!&nbsp; I say, old one, what is the name of this river?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hout!&nbsp; I now see what you was greeting at - at your ain
+ignorance, nae doubt - &rsquo;tis very great!&nbsp; Weel, I will na
+fash you with reproaches, but even enlighten ye, since you seem a decent
+man&rsquo;s bairn, and you speir a civil question.&nbsp; Yon river is
+called the Tweed; and yonder, over the brig, is Scotland.&nbsp; Did
+ye never hear of the Tweed, my bonny man?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, as I rose from the grass, and proceeded to
+cross the bridge to the town at which we had arrived the preceding night;
+&lsquo;I never heard of it; but now I have seen it, I shall not soon
+forget it!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER VII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The Castle - A father&rsquo;s inquiries - Scotch language - A determination
+- Bui hin Digri - Good Scotchman - Difference of races - Ne&rsquo;er
+a haggis - Pugnacious people - Wha are ye, man? - The Nor Loch - Gestures
+wild - The bicker - New Town champion - Wild-looking figure - Headlong.<br>
+<br>
+It was not long before we found ourselves at Edinburgh, or rather in
+the Castle, into which the regiment marched with drums beating, colours
+flying, and a long train of baggage-waggons behind.&nbsp; The Castle
+was, as I suppose it is now, a garrison for soldiers.&nbsp; Two other
+regiments were already there; the one an Irish, if I remember right,
+the other a small Highland corps.<br>
+<br>
+It is hardly necessary to say much about this Castle, which everybody
+has seen; on which account, doubtless, nobody has ever yet thought fit
+to describe it - at least that I am aware.&nbsp; Be this as it may,
+I have no intention of describing it, and shall content myself with
+observing that we took up our abode in that immense building, or caserne,
+of modern erection, which occupies the entire eastern side of the bold
+rock on which the Castle stands.&nbsp; A gallant caserne it was - the
+best and roomiest that I had hitherto seen - rather cold and windy,
+it is true, especially in the winter, but commanding a noble prospect
+of a range of distant hills, which I was told were &lsquo;the hieland
+hills,&rsquo; and of a broad arm of the sea, which I heard somebody
+say was the Firth of Forth.<br>
+<br>
+My brother, who, for some years past, had been receiving his education
+in a certain celebrated school in England, was now with us; and it came
+to pass, that one day my father, as he sat at table, looked steadfastly
+on my brother and myself, and then addressed my mother: - &lsquo;During
+my journey down hither, I have lost no opportunity of making inquiries
+about these people, the Scotch, amongst whom we now are, and since I
+have been here I have observed them attentively.&nbsp; From what I have
+heard and seen, I should say that upon the whole they are a very decent
+set of people; they seem acute and intelligent, and I am told that their
+system of education is so excellent that every person is learned - more
+or less acquainted with Greek and Latin.&nbsp; There is one thing, however,
+connected with them, which is a great drawback - the horrid jargon which
+they speak.&nbsp; However learned they may be in Greek and Latin, their
+English is execrable; and yet I&rsquo;m told it is not so bad as it
+was.&nbsp; I was in company, the other day, with an Englishman who has
+resided here many years.&nbsp; We were talking about the country and
+the people.&nbsp; &ldquo;I should like both very well,&rdquo; said I,
+&ldquo;were it not for the language.&nbsp; I wish sincerely our Parliament,
+which is passing so many foolish acts every year, would pass one to
+force these Scotch to speak English.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;I wish so,
+too,&rdquo; said he.&nbsp; &ldquo;The language is a disgrace to the
+British Government; but, if you had heard it twenty years ago, captain!
+- if you had heard it as it was spoken when I first came to Edinburgh!&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Only custom,&rsquo; said my mother.&nbsp; &lsquo;I daresay the
+language is now what it was then.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;though I daresay
+you are right; it could never have been worse than it is at present.&nbsp;
+But now to the point.&nbsp; Were it not for the language, which, if
+the boys were to pick it up, might ruin their prospects in life, - were
+it not for that, I should very much like to send them to a school there
+is in this place, which everybody talks about - the High School I think
+they call it.&nbsp; &rsquo;Tis said to be the best school in the whole
+island; but the idea of one&rsquo;s children speaking Scotch - broad
+Scotch!&nbsp; I must think the matter over.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And he did think the matter over; and the result of his deliberation
+was a determination to send us to the school.&nbsp; Let me call thee
+up before my mind&rsquo;s eye, High School, to which, every morning,
+the two English brothers took their way from the proud old Castle through
+the lofty streets of the Old Town.&nbsp; High School! - called so, I
+scarcely know why; neither lofty in thyself nor by position, being situated
+in a flat bottom; oblong structure of tawny stone, with many windows
+fenced with iron netting - with thy long hall below, and thy five chambers
+above, for the reception of the five classes, into which the eight hundred
+urchins who styled thee instructress were divided.&nbsp; Thy learned
+rector and his four subordinate dominies; thy strange old porter of
+the tall form and grizzled hair, hight Boee, and doubtless of Norse
+ancestry, as his name declares; perhaps of the blood of Bui hin Digri,
+the hero of northern song - the Jomsborg Viking who clove Thorsteinn
+Midlangr asunder in the dread sea battle of Horunga Vog, and who, when
+the fight was lost and his own two hands smitten off, seized two chests
+of gold with his bloody stumps, and, springing with them into the sea,
+cried to the scanty relics of his crew, &lsquo;Overboard now, all Bui&rsquo;s
+lads!&rsquo;&nbsp; Yes, I remember all about thee, and how at eight
+of every morn we were all gathered together with one accord in the long
+hall, from which, after the litanies had been read (for so I will call
+them, being an Episcopalian), the five classes from the five sets of
+benches trotted off in long files, one boy after the other, up the five
+spiral staircases of stone, each class to its destination; and well
+do I remember how we of the third sat hushed and still, watched by the
+eye of the dux, until the door opened, and in walked that model of a
+good Scotchman, the shrewd, intelligent, but warm-hearted and kind dominie,
+the respectable Carson.<br>
+<br>
+And in this school I began to construe the Latin language, which I had
+never done before, notwithstanding my long and diligent study of Lilly,
+which illustrious grammar was not used at Edinburgh, nor indeed known.&nbsp;
+Greek was only taught in the fifth or highest class, in which my brother
+was; as for myself, I never got beyond the third during the two years
+that I remained at this seminary.&nbsp; I certainly acquired here a
+considerable insight in the Latin tongue; and, to the scandal of my
+father and horror of my mother, a thorough proficiency in the Scotch,
+which, in less than two months, usurped the place of the English, and
+so obstinately maintained its ground, that I still can occasionally
+detect its lingering remains.&nbsp; I did not spend my time unpleasantly
+at this school, though, first of all, I had to pass through an ordeal.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Scotland is a better country than England,&rsquo; said an ugly,
+blear-eyed lad, about a head and shoulders taller than myself, the leader
+of a gang of varlets who surrounded me in the playground, on the first
+day, as soon as the morning lesson was over.&nbsp; &lsquo;Scotland is
+a far better country than England, in every respect.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Then you ought to be very
+thankful for not having been born in England.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s just what I am, ye loon; and every morning, when
+I say my prayers, I thank God for not being an Englishman.&nbsp; The
+Scotch are a much better and braver people than the English.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It may be so,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;for what I know - indeed,
+till I came here, I never heard a word either about the Scotch or their
+country.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are ye making fun of us, ye English puppy?&rsquo; said the blear-eyed
+lad; &lsquo;take that!&rsquo; and I was presently beaten black and blue.&nbsp;
+And thus did I first become aware of the difference of races and their
+antipathy to each other.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bow to the storm, and it shall pass over you.&rsquo;&nbsp; I
+held my peace, and silently submitted to the superiority of the Scotch
+- <i>in numbers</i>.&nbsp; This was enough; from an object of persecution
+I soon became one of patronage, especially amongst the champions of
+the class.&nbsp; &lsquo;The English,&rsquo; said the blear-eyed lad,
+&lsquo;though a wee bit behind the Scotch in strength and fortitude,
+are nae to be sneezed at, being far ahead of the Irish, to say nothing
+of the French, a pack of cowardly scoundrels.&nbsp; And with regard
+to the English country, it is na Scotland, it is true, but it has its
+gude properties; and, though there is ne&rsquo;er a haggis in a&rsquo;
+the land, there&rsquo;s an unco deal o&rsquo; gowd and siller.&nbsp;
+I respect England, for I have an auntie married there.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Scotch are certainly a most pugnacious people; their whole history
+proves it.&nbsp; Witness their incessant wars with the English in the
+olden time, and their internal feuds, highland and lowland, clan with
+clan, family with family, Saxon with Gael.&nbsp; In my time, the schoolboys,
+for want, perhaps, of English urchins to contend with, were continually
+fighting with each other; every noon there was at least one pugilistic
+encounter, and sometimes three.&nbsp; In one month I witnessed more
+of these encounters than I had ever previously seen under similar circumstances
+in England.&nbsp; After all, there was not much harm done.&nbsp; Harm!
+what harm could result from short chopping blows, a hug, and a tumble?&nbsp;
+I was witness to many a sounding whack, some blood shed, &lsquo;a blue
+ee&rsquo; now and then, but nothing more.&nbsp; In England, on the contrary,
+where the lads were comparatively mild, gentle, and pacific, I had been
+present at more than one death caused by blows in boyish combats, in
+which the oldest of the victors had scarcely reached thirteen years;
+but these blows were in the jugular, given with the full force of the
+arm shot out horizontally from the shoulder.<br>
+<br>
+But the Scotch - though by no means proficients in boxing (and how should
+they box, seeing that they have never had a teacher?) - are, I repeat,
+a most pugnacious people; at least they were in my time.&nbsp; Anything
+served them, that is, the urchins, as a pretence for a fray, or, Dorically
+speaking, a <i>bicker</i>; every street and close was at feud with its
+neighbour; the lads of the school were at feud with the young men of
+the college, whom they pelted in winter with snow, and in summer with
+stones; and then the feud between the old and new town!<br>
+<br>
+One day I was standing on the ramparts of the Castle on the south-western
+side which overhangs the green brae, where it slopes down into what
+was in those days the green swamp or morass, called by the natives of
+Auld Reekie the Nor Loch; it was a dark gloomy day, and a thin veil
+of mist was beginning to settle down upon the brae and the morass.&nbsp;
+I could perceive, however, that there was a skirmish taking place in
+the latter spot.&nbsp; I had an indistinct view of two parties - apparently
+of urchins - and I heard whoops and shrill cries: eager to know the
+cause of this disturbance, I left the Castle, and descending the brae
+reached the borders of the morass, where were a runnel of water and
+the remains of an old wall, on the other side of which a narrow path
+led across the swamp: upon this path at a little distance before me
+there was &lsquo;a bicker.&rsquo;&nbsp; I pushed forward, but had scarcely
+crossed the ruined wall and runnel, when the party nearest to me gave
+way, and in great confusion came running in my direction.&nbsp; As they
+drew nigh, one of them shouted to me, &lsquo;Wha are ye, man? are ye
+o&rsquo; the Auld Toon?&rsquo;&nbsp; I made no answer.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ha!
+ye are o&rsquo; the New Toon; De&rsquo;il tak ye, we&rsquo;ll moorder
+ye&rsquo;; and the next moment a huge stone sung past my head.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Let me be, ye fule bodies,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I&rsquo;m no
+of either of ye, I live yonder aboon in the Castle.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah!
+ye live in the Castle; then ye&rsquo;re an auld tooner; come gie us
+your help, man, and dinna stand there staring like a dunnot, we want
+help sair eneugh.&nbsp; Here are stanes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+For my own part I wished for nothing better, and, rushing forward, I
+placed myself at the head of my new associates, and commenced flinging
+stones fast and desperately.&nbsp; The other party now gave way in their
+turn, closely followed by ourselves; I was in the van, and about to
+stretch out my hand to seize the hindermost boy of the enemy, when,
+not being acquainted with the miry and difficult paths of the Nor Loch,
+and in my eagerness taking no heed of my footing, I plunged into a quagmire,
+into which I sank as far as my shoulders.&nbsp; Our adversaries no sooner
+perceived this disaster, than, setting up a shout, they wheeled round
+and attacked us most vehemently.&nbsp; Had my comrades now deserted
+me, my life had not been worth a straw&rsquo;s purchase, I should either
+have been smothered in the quag, or, what is more probable, had my brains
+beaten out with stones; but they behaved like true Scots, and fought
+stoutly around their comrade, until I was extricated, whereupon both
+parties retired, the night being near at hand.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ye are na a bad hand at flinging stanes,&rsquo; said the lad
+who first addressed me, as we now returned up the brae; &lsquo;your
+aim is right dangerous, mon, I saw how ye skelpit them, ye maun help
+us agin thae New Toon blackguards at our next bicker.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+So to the next bicker I went, and to many more, which speedily followed
+as the summer advanced; the party to which I had given my help on the
+first occasion consisted merely of outlyers, posted about half-way up
+the hill, for the purpose of overlooking the movements of the enemy.<br>
+<br>
+Did the latter draw nigh in any considerable force, messengers were
+forthwith despatched to the &lsquo;Auld Toon,&rsquo; especially to the
+filthy alleys and closes of the High Street, which forthwith would disgorge
+swarms of bare-headed and bare-footed &lsquo;callants,&rsquo; who, with
+gestures wild and &lsquo;eldrich screech and hollo,&rsquo; might frequently
+be seen pouring down the sides of the hill.&nbsp; I have seen upwards
+of a thousand engaged on either side in these frays, which I have no
+doubt were full as desperate as the fights described in the <i>Iliad</i>,
+and which were certainly much more bloody than the combats of modern
+Greece in the war of independence: the callants not only employed their
+hands in hurling stones, but not unfrequently slings; at the use of
+which they were very expert, and which occasionally dislodged teeth,
+shattered jaws, or knocked out an eye.&nbsp; Our opponents certainly
+laboured under considerable disadvantage, being compelled not only to
+wade across a deceitful bog, but likewise to clamber up part of a steep
+hill, before they could attack us; nevertheless, their determination
+was such, and such their impetuosity, that we had sometimes difficulty
+enough to maintain our own.&nbsp; I shall never forget one bicker, the
+last indeed which occurred at that time, as the authorities of the town,
+alarmed by the desperation of its character, stationed forthwith a body
+of police on the hill-side, to prevent, in future, any such breaches
+of the peace.<br>
+<br>
+It was a beautiful Sunday evening, the rays of the descending sun were
+reflected redly from the gray walls of the Castle, and from the black
+rocks on which it was founded.&nbsp; The bicker had long since commenced,
+stones from sling and hand were flying; but the callants of the New
+Town were now carrying everything before them.<br>
+<br>
+A full-grown baker&rsquo;s apprentice was at their head; he was foaming
+with rage, and had taken the field, as I was told, in order to avenge
+his brother, whose eye had been knocked out in one of the late bickers.&nbsp;
+He was no slinger or flinger, but brandished in his right hand the spoke
+of a cart-wheel, like my countryman Tom Hickathrift of old in his encounter
+with the giant of the Lincolnshire fen.&nbsp; Protected by a piece of
+wicker-work attached to his left arm, he rushed on to the fray, disregarding
+the stones which were showered against him, and was ably seconded by
+his followers.&nbsp; Our own party was chased half-way up the hill,
+where I was struck to the ground by the baker, after having been foiled
+in an attempt which I had made to fling a handful of earth into his
+eyes.&nbsp; All now appeared lost, the Auld Toon was in full retreat.&nbsp;
+I myself lay at the baker&rsquo;s feet, who had just raised his spoke,
+probably to give me the <i>coup de grace</i>, - it was an awful moment.&nbsp;
+Just then I heard a shout and a rushing sound; a wild-looking figure
+is descending the hill with terrible bounds; it is a lad of some fifteen
+years; he is bare-headed, and his red uncombed hair stands on end like
+hedgehogs&rsquo; bristles: his frame is lithy, like that of an antelope,
+but he has prodigious breadth of chest; he wears a military undress,
+that of the regiment, even of a drummer, for it is wild Davy, whom a
+month before I had seen enlisted on Leith Links to serve King George
+with drum and drumstick as long as his services might be required, and
+who, ere a week had elapsed, had smitten with his fist Drum-Major Elzigood,
+who, incensed at his inaptitude, had threatened him with his cane; he
+has been in confinement for weeks, this is the first day of his liberation,
+and he is now descending the hill with horrid bounds and shoutings;
+he is now about five yards distant, and the baker, who apprehends that
+something dangerous is at hand, prepares himself for the encounter;
+but what avails the strength of a baker, even full grown? - what avails
+the defence of a wicker shield? - what avails the wheel-spoke, should
+there be an opportunity of using it, against the impetus of an avalanche
+or a cannon-ball? - for to either of these might that wild figure be
+compared, which, at the distance of five yards, sprang at once with
+head, hands, feet and body, all together, upon the champion of the New
+Town, tumbling him to the earth amain.&nbsp; And now it was the turn
+of the Old Town to triumph.&nbsp; Our late discomfited host, returning
+on its steps, overwhelmed the fallen champion with blows of every kind,
+and then, led on by his vanquisher, who had assumed his arms, namely,
+the wheel-spoke and wicker shield, fairly cleared the brae of their
+adversaries, whom they drove down headlong into the morass.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER VIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Expert climbers - The crags - Something red - The horrible edge - David
+Haggart - Fine materials - The greatest victory - Extraordinary robber
+- The ruling passion.<br>
+<br>
+Meanwhile I had become a daring cragsman, a character to which an English
+lad has seldom opportunities of aspiring; for in England there are neither
+crags nor mountains.&nbsp; Of these, however, as is well known, there
+is no lack in Scotland, and the habits of individuals are invariably
+in harmony with the country in which they dwell.&nbsp; The Scotch are
+expert climbers, and I was now a Scot in most things, particularly in
+language.&nbsp; The Castle in which I dwelt stood upon a rock, a bold
+and craggy one, which, at first sight, would seem to bid defiance to
+any feet save those of goats and chamois; but patience and perseverance
+generally enable mankind to overcome things which, at first sight, appear
+impossible.&nbsp; Indeed, what is there above man&rsquo;s exertions?&nbsp;
+Unwearied determination will enable him to run with the horse, to swim
+with the fish, and assuredly to compete with the chamois and the goat
+in agility and sureness of foot.&nbsp; To scale the rock was merely
+child&rsquo;s play for the Edinbro&rsquo; callants.&nbsp; It was my
+own favourite diversion.&nbsp; I soon found that the rock contained
+all manner of strange crypts, crannies, and recesses, where owls nestled,
+and the weasel brought forth her young; here and there were small natural
+platforms, overgrown with long grass and various kinds of plants, where
+the climber, if so disposed, could stretch himself, and either give
+his eyes to sleep or his mind to thought; for capital places were these
+same platforms either for repose or meditation.&nbsp; The boldest features
+of the rock are descried on the northern side, where, after shelving
+down gently from the wall for some distance, it terminates abruptly
+in a precipice, black and horrible, of some three hundred feet at least,
+as if the axe of nature had been here employed cutting sheer down, and
+leaving behind neither excrescence nor spur - a dizzy precipice it is,
+assimilating much to those so frequent in the flinty hills of Northern
+Africa, and exhibiting some distant resemblance to that of Gibraltar,
+towering in its horridness above the Neutral Ground.<br>
+<br>
+It was now holiday time, and having nothing particular wherewith to
+occupy myself, I not unfrequently passed the greater part of the day
+upon the rocks.&nbsp; Once, after scaling the western crags, and creeping
+round a sharp angle of the wall, overhung by a kind of watch-tower,
+I found myself on the northern side.&nbsp; Still keeping close to the
+wall, I was proceeding onward, for I was bent upon a long excursion
+which should embrace half the circuit of the Castle, when suddenly my
+eye was attracted by the appearance of something red, far below me;
+I stopped short, and, looking fixedly upon it, perceived that it was
+a human being in a kind of red jacket, seated on the extreme verge of
+the precipice which I have already made a faint attempt to describe.&nbsp;
+Wondering who it could be, I shouted; but it took not the slightest
+notice, remaining as immovable as the rock on which it sat.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+should never have thought of going near that edge,&rsquo; said I to
+myself; &lsquo;however, as you have done it, why should not I?&nbsp;
+And I should like to know who you are.&rsquo;&nbsp; So I commenced the
+descent of the rock, but with great care, for I had as yet never been
+in a situation so dangerous; a slight moisture exuded from the palms
+of my hands, my nerves were tingling, and my brain was somewhat dizzy
+- and now I had arrived within a few yards of the figure, and had recognised
+it: it was the wild drummer who had turned the tide of battle in the
+bicker on the Castle Brae.&nbsp; A small stone which I dislodged now
+rolled down the rock, and tumbled into the abyss close beside him.&nbsp;
+He turned his head, and after looking at me for a moment somewhat vacantly,
+he resumed his former attitude.&nbsp; I drew yet nearer to the horrible
+edge not close, however, for fear was on me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What are you thinking of, David?&rsquo; said I, as I sat behind
+him and trembled, for I repeat that I was afraid.<br>
+<br>
+<i>David Haggart</i>.&nbsp; I was thinking of Willie Wallace.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; You had better be thinking of yourself, man.&nbsp;
+A strange place this to come to and think of William Wallace.<br>
+<br>
+<i>David Haggart</i>.&nbsp; Why so?&nbsp; Is not his tower just beneath
+our feet?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; You mean the auld ruin by the side of the Nor Loch
+- the ugly stane bulk, from the foot of which flows the spring into
+the dyke where the watercresses grow?<br>
+<br>
+<i>David Haggart</i>.&nbsp; Just sae, Geordie.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; And why were ye thinking of him?&nbsp; The English
+hanged him long since, as I have heard say.<br>
+<br>
+<i>David Haggart</i>.&nbsp; I was thinking that I should wish to be
+like him.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Do ye mean that ye would wish to be hanged?<br>
+<br>
+<i>David Haggart</i>.&nbsp; I wadna flinch from that, Geordie, if I
+might be a great man first.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; And wha kens, Davie, how great you may be, even
+without hanging?&nbsp; Are ye not in the high road of preferment?&nbsp;
+Are ye not a bauld drummer already?&nbsp; Wha kens how high ye may rise?
+perhaps to be general, or drum-major.<br>
+<br>
+<i>David Haggart</i>.&nbsp; I hae nae wish to be drum-major; it were
+nae great things to be like the doited carle, Else-than-gude, as they
+call him; and, troth, he has nae his name for naething.&nbsp; But I
+should have nae objection to be a general, and to fight the French and
+Americans, and win myself a name and a fame like Willie Wallace, and
+do brave deeds, such as I have been reading about in his story book.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Ye are a fule, Davie; the story book is full of
+lies.&nbsp; Wallace, indeed! the wuddie rebel!&nbsp; I have heard my
+father say that the Duke of Cumberland was worth twenty of Willie Wallace.<br>
+<br>
+<i>David Haggart</i>.&nbsp; Ye had better sae naething agin Willie Wallace,
+Geordie, for, if ye do, De&rsquo;il hae me, if I dinna tumble ye doon
+the craig.<br>
+<br>
+Fine materials in that lad for a hero, you will say.&nbsp; Yes, indeed,
+for a hero, or for what he afterwards became.&nbsp; In other times,
+and under other circumstances, he might have made what is generally
+termed a great man, a patriot, or a conqueror.&nbsp; As it was, the
+very qualities which might then have pushed him on to fortune and renown
+were the cause of his ruin.&nbsp; The war over, he fell into evil courses;
+for his wild heart and ambitious spirit could not brook the sober and
+quiet pursuits of honest industry.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Can an Arabian steed submit to be a vile drudge?&rsquo; I cries
+the fatalist.&nbsp; Nonsense!&nbsp; A man is not an irrational creature,
+but a reasoning being, and has something within him beyond mere brutal
+instinct.&nbsp; The greatest victory which a man can achieve is over
+himself, by which is meant those unruly passions which are not convenient
+to the time and place.&nbsp; David did not do this; he gave the reins
+to his wild heart, instead of curbing it, and became a robber, and,
+alas! alas! he shed blood - under peculiar circumstances, it is true,
+and without <i>malice prepense</i> - and for that blood he eventually
+died, and justly; for it was that of the warden of a prison from which
+he was escaping, and whom he slew with one blow of his stalwart arm.<br>
+<br>
+Tamerlane and Haggart!&nbsp; Haggart and Tamerlane!&nbsp; Both these
+men were robbers, and of low birth, yet one perished on an ignoble scaffold,
+and the other died emperor of the world.&nbsp; Is this justice?&nbsp;
+The ends of the two men were widely dissimilar - yet what is the intrinsic
+difference between them?&nbsp; Very great indeed; the one acted according
+to his lights and his country, not so the other.&nbsp; Tamerlane was
+a heathen, and acted according to his lights; he was a robber where
+all around were robbers, but he became the avenger of God - God&rsquo;s
+scourge on unjust kings, on the cruel Bajazet, who had plucked out his
+own brothers&rsquo; eyes; he became to a certain extent the purifier
+of the East, its regenerator; his equal never was before, nor has it
+since been seen.&nbsp; Here the wild heart was profitably employed,
+the wild strength, the teeming brain.&nbsp; Onward, Lame one!&nbsp;
+Onward, Tamur - lank!&nbsp; Haggart . . . .<br>
+<br>
+But peace to thee, poor David! why should a mortal worm be sitting in
+judgment over thee?&nbsp; The Mighty and Just One has already judged
+thee, and perhaps above thou hast received pardon for thy crimes, which
+could not be pardoned here below; and now that thy feverish existence
+has closed, and thy once active form become inanimate dust, thy very
+memory all but forgotten, I will say a few words about thee, a few words
+soon also to be forgotten.&nbsp; Thou wast the most extraordinary robber
+that ever lived within the belt of Britain; Scotland rang with thy exploits,
+and England, too, north of the Humber; strange deeds also didst thou
+achieve when, fleeing from justice, thou didst find thyself in the Sister
+Isle; busy wast thou there in town and on curragh, at fair and race-course,
+and also in the solitary place.&nbsp; Ireland thought thee her child,
+for who spoke her brogue better than thyself? - she felt proud of thee,
+and said, &lsquo;Sure, O&rsquo;Hanlon is come again.&rsquo;&nbsp; What
+might not have been thy fate in the far west in America, whither thou
+hadst turned thine eye, saying, &lsquo;I will go there, and become an
+honest man!&rsquo;&nbsp; But thou wast not to go there, David - the
+blood which thou hadst shed in Scotland was to be required of thee;
+the avenger was at hand, the avenger of blood.&nbsp; Seized, manacled,
+brought back to thy native land, condemned to die, thou wast left in
+thy narrow cell, and told to make the most of thy time, for it was short:
+and there, in thy narrow cell, and thy time so short, thou didst put
+the crowning stone to thy strange deeds, by that strange history of
+thyself, penned by thy own hand in the robber tongue.&nbsp; Thou mightest
+have been better employed, David! - but the ruling passion was strong
+with thee, even in the jaws of death.&nbsp; Thou mightest have been
+better employed! - but peace be with thee, I repeat, and the Almighty&rsquo;s
+grace and pardon.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER IX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Napoleon - The storm - The cove - Up the country - The trembling hand
+- Irish - Tough battle - Tipperary hills - Elegant lodgings - A speech
+- Fair specimen - Orangemen.<br>
+<br>
+Onward, onward! and after we had sojourned in Scotland nearly two years,
+the long continental war had been brought to an end, Napoleon was humbled
+for a time, and the Bourbons restored to a land which could well have
+dispensed with them; we returned to England, where the corps was disbanded,
+and my parents with their family retired to private life.&nbsp; I shall
+pass over in silence the events of a year, which offer little of interest
+as far as connected with me and mine.&nbsp; Suddenly, however, the sound
+of war was heard again, Napoleon had broken forth from Elba, and everything
+was in confusion.&nbsp; Vast military preparations were again made,
+our own corps was levied anew, and my brother became an officer in it;
+but the danger was soon over, Napoleon was once more quelled, and chained
+for ever, like Prometheus, to his rock.&nbsp; As the corps, however,
+though so recently levied, had already become a very fine one, thanks
+to my father&rsquo;s energetic drilling, the Government very properly
+determined to turn it to some account, and, as disturbances were apprehended
+in Ireland about this period, it occurred to them that they could do
+no better than despatch it to that country.<br>
+<br>
+In the autumn of the year 1815 we set sail from a port in Essex; we
+were some eight hundred strong, and were embarked in two ships, very
+large, but old and crazy; a storm overtook us when off Beachy Head,
+in which we had nearly foundered.&nbsp; I was awakened early in the
+morning by the howling of the wind and the uproar on deck.&nbsp; I kept
+myself close, however, as is still my constant practice on similar occasions,
+and waited the result with that apathy and indifference which violent
+sea-sickness is sure to produce.&nbsp; We shipped several seas, and
+once the vessel missing stays - which, to do it justice, it generally
+did at every third or fourth tack - we escaped almost by a miracle from
+being dashed upon the foreland.&nbsp; On the eighth day of our voyage
+we were in sight of Ireland.&nbsp; The weather was now calm and serene,
+the sun shone brightly on the sea and on certain green hills in the
+distance, on which I descried what at first sight I believed to be two
+ladies gathering flowers, which, however, on our nearer approach, proved
+to be two tall white towers, doubtless built for some purpose or other,
+though I did not learn for what.<br>
+<br>
+We entered a kind of bay, or cove, by a narrow inlet; it was a beautiful
+and romantic place this cove, very spacious, and, being nearly land-locked,
+was sheltered from every wind.&nbsp; A small island, every inch of which
+was covered with fortifications, appeared to swim upon the waters, whose
+dark blue denoted their immense depth; tall green hills, which ascended
+gradually from the shore, formed the background to the west; they were
+carpeted to the top with turf of the most vivid green, and studded here
+and there with woods, seemingly of oak; there was a strange old castle
+half-way up the ascent, a village on a crag - but the mists of morning
+were half veiling the scene when I surveyed it, and the mists of time
+are now hanging densely between it and my no longer youthful eye; I
+may not describe it; - nor will I try.<br>
+<br>
+Leaving the ship in the cove, we passed up a wide river in boats till
+we came to a city, where we disembarked.&nbsp; It was a large city,
+as large as Edinburgh to my eyes; there were plenty of fine houses,
+but little neatness; the streets were full of impurities; handsome equipages
+rolled along, but the greater part of the population were in rags; beggars
+abounded; there was no lack of merriment, however; boisterous shouts
+of laughter were heard on every side.&nbsp; It appeared a city of contradictions.&nbsp;
+After a few days&rsquo; rest we marched from this place in two divisions.&nbsp;
+My father commanded the second, I walked by his side.<br>
+<br>
+Our route lay up the country; the country at first offered no very remarkable
+feature, it was pretty, but tame.&nbsp; On the second day, however,
+its appearance had altered, it had become more wild; a range of distant
+mountains bounded the horizon.&nbsp; We passed through several villages,
+as I suppose I may term them, of low huts, the walls formed of rough
+stones without mortar, the roof of flags laid over wattles and wicker-work;
+they seemed to be inhabited solely by women and children; the latter
+were naked, the former, in general, blear-eyed beldames, who sat beside
+the doors on low stools, spinning.&nbsp; We saw, however, both men and
+women working at a distance in the fields.<br>
+<br>
+I was thirsty; and going up to an ancient crone, employed in the manner
+which I have described, I asked her for water; she looked me in the
+face, appeared to consider a moment, then tottering into her hut, presently
+reappeared with a small pipkin of milk, which she offered to me with
+a trembling hand.&nbsp; I drank the milk; it was sour, but I found it
+highly refreshing.&nbsp; I then took out a penny and offered it to her,
+whereupon she shook her head, smiled, and, patting my face with her
+skinny hand, murmured some words in a tongue which I had never heard
+before.<br>
+<br>
+I walked on by my father&rsquo;s side, holding the stirrup-leather of
+his horse; presently several low uncouth cars passed by, drawn by starved
+cattle: the drivers were tall fellows, with dark features and athletic
+frames - they wore long loose blue cloaks with sleeves, which last,
+however, dangled unoccupied: these cloaks appeared in tolerably good
+condition, not so their under garments.&nbsp; On their heads were broad
+slouching hats: the generality of them were bare-footed.&nbsp; As they
+passed, the soldiers jested with them in the patois of East Anglia,
+whereupon the fellows laughed, and appeared to jest with the soldiers;
+but what they said who knows, it being in a rough guttural language,
+strange and wild.&nbsp; The soldiers stared at each other, and were
+silent.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A strange language that!&rsquo; said a young officer to my father,
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t understand a word of it; what can it be?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Irish!&rsquo; said my father, with a loud voice, &lsquo;and a
+bad language it is, I have known it of old, that is, I have often heard
+it spoken when I was a guardsman in London.&nbsp; There&rsquo;s one
+part of London where all the Irish live - at least all the worst of
+them - and there they hatch their villainies and speak this tongue;
+it is that which keeps them together and makes them dangerous: I was
+once sent there to seize a couple of deserters - Irish - who had taken
+refuge amongst their companions; we found them in what was in my time
+called a ken, that is a house where only thieves and desperadoes are
+to be found.&nbsp; Knowing on what kind of business I was bound, I had
+taken with me a sergeant&rsquo;s party; it was well I did so.&nbsp;
+We found the deserters in a large room, with at least thirty ruffians,
+horrid-looking fellows, seated about a long table, drinking, swearing,
+and talking Irish.&nbsp; Ah! we had a tough battle, I remember; the
+two fellows did nothing, but sat still, thinking it best to be quiet;
+but the rest, with an ubbubboo like the blowing up of a powder-magazine,
+sprang up, brandishing their sticks; for these fellows always carry
+sticks with them even to bed, and not unfrequently spring up in their
+sleep, striking left and right.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And did you take the deserters?&rsquo; said the officer.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;for we formed at the end of
+the room, and charged with fixed bayonets, which compelled the others
+to yield notwithstanding their numbers; but the worst was when we got
+out into the street; the whole district had become alarmed, and hundreds
+came pouring down upon us - men, women, and children.&nbsp; Women, did
+I say! - they looked fiends, half naked, with their hair hanging down
+over their bosoms; they tore up the very pavement to hurl at us, sticks
+rang about our ears, stones, and Irish - I liked the Irish worst of
+all, it sounded so horrid, especially as I did not understand it.&nbsp;
+It&rsquo;s a bad language.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A queer tongue,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I wonder if I could learn
+it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Learn it!&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;what should you learn
+it for? - however, I am not afraid of that.&nbsp; It is not like Scotch,
+no person can learn it, save those who are born to it, and even in Ireland
+the respectable people do not speak it, only the wilder sort, like those
+we have passed.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Within a day or two we had reached a tall range of mountains running
+north and south, which I was told were those of Tipperary; along the
+skirts of these we proceeded till we came to a town, the principal one
+of these regions.&nbsp; It was on the bank of a beautiful river, which
+separated it from the mountains.&nbsp; It was rather an ancient place,
+and might contain some ten thousand inhabitants - I found that it was
+our destination; there were extensive barracks at the farther end, in
+which the corps took up its quarters; with respect to ourselves, we
+took lodgings in a house which stood in the principal street.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You never saw more elegant lodgings than these, captain,&rsquo;
+said the master of the house, a tall, handsome, and athletic man, who
+came up whilst our little family were seated at dinner late in the afternoon
+of the day of our arrival; &lsquo;they beat anything in this town of
+Clonmel.&nbsp; I do not let them for the sake of interest, and to none
+but gentlemen in the army, in order that myself and my wife, who is
+from Londonderry, may have the advantage of pleasant company, genteel
+company; ay, and Protestant company, captain.&nbsp; It did my heart
+good when I saw your honour ride in at the head of all those fine fellows,
+real Protestants, I&rsquo;ll engage, not a Papist among them, they are
+too good-looking and honest-looking for that.&nbsp; So I no sooner saw
+your honour at the head of your army, with that handsome young gentleman
+holding by your stirrup, than I said to my wife, Mistress Hyne, who
+is from Londonderry, &ldquo;God bless me,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;what
+a truly Protestant countenance, what a noble bearing, and what a sweet
+young gentleman.&nbsp; By the silver hairs of his honour&rdquo; - and
+sure enough I never saw hairs more regally silver than those of your
+honour - &ldquo;by his honour&rsquo;s gray silver hairs, and by my own
+soul, which is not worthy to be mentioned in the same day with one of
+them - it would be no more than decent and civil to run out and welcome
+such a father and son coming in at the head of such a Protestant military.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+And then my wife, who is from Londonderry, Mistress Hyne, looking me
+in the face like a fairy as she is, &ldquo;You may say that,&rdquo;
+says she.&nbsp; &ldquo;It would be but decent and civil, honey.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+And your honour knows how I ran out of my own door and welcomed your
+honour riding in company with your son, who was walking; how I welcomed
+ye both at the head of your royal regiment, and how I shook your honour
+by the hand, saying, I am glad to see your honour, and your honour&rsquo;s
+son, and your honour&rsquo;s royal military Protestant regiment.&nbsp;
+And now I have you in the house, and right proud I am to have ye one
+and all; one, two, three, four, true Protestants every one, no Papists
+here; and I have made bold to bring up a bottle of claret which is now
+waiting behind the door; and, when your honour and your family have
+dined, I will make bold too to bring up Mistress Hyne, from Londonderry,
+to introduce to your honour&rsquo;s lady, and then we&rsquo;ll drink
+to the health of King George, God bless him; to the &ldquo;glorious
+and immortal&rdquo; - to Boyne water - to your honour&rsquo;s speedy
+promotion to be Lord Lieutenant, and to the speedy downfall of the Pope
+and Saint Anthony of Padua.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Such was the speech of the Irish Protestant addressed to my father in
+the long lofty dining-room with three windows, looking upon the high
+street of the good town of Clonmel, as he sat at meat with his family,
+after saying grace like a true-hearted respectable soldier as he was.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A bigot and an Orangeman!&rsquo;&nbsp; Oh yes!&nbsp; It is easier
+to apply epithets of opprobrium to people than to make yourself acquainted
+with their history and position.&nbsp; He was a specimen, and a fair
+specimen, of a most remarkable body of men, who during two centuries
+have fought a good fight in Ireland in the cause of civilisation and
+religious truth; they were sent as colonists, few in number, into a
+barbarous and unhappy country, where ever since, though surrounded with
+difficulties of every kind, they have maintained their ground; theirs
+has been no easy life, nor have their lines fallen upon very pleasant
+places; amidst darkness they have held up a lamp, and it would be well
+for Ireland were all her children like these her adopted ones.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;But they are fierce and sanguinary,&rsquo; it is said.&nbsp;
+Ay, ay! they have not unfrequently opposed the keen sword to the savage
+pike.&nbsp; &lsquo;But they are bigoted and narrow-minded.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Ay, ay! they do not like idolatry, and will not bow the knee before
+a stone!&nbsp; &lsquo;But their language is frequently indecorous.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Go to, my dainty one, did ye ever listen to the voice of Papist cursing?<br>
+<br>
+The Irish Protestants have faults, numerous ones; but the greater number
+of these may be traced to the peculiar circumstances of their position:
+but they have virtues, numerous ones; and their virtues are their own,
+their industry, their energy, and their undaunted resolution are their
+own.&nbsp; They have been vilified and traduced - but what would Ireland
+be without them?&nbsp; I repeat, that it would be well for her were
+all her sons no worse than these much-calumniated children of her adoption.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER X<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Protestant young gentlemen - The Greek letters - Open chimney - Murtagh
+- Paris and Salamanca - Nothing to do - To whit, to whoo! - The pack
+of cards - Before Christmas.<br>
+<br>
+We continued at this place for some months, during which time the soldiers
+performed their duties, whatever they were; and I, having no duties
+to perform, was sent to school.&nbsp; I had been to English schools,
+and to the celebrated one of Edinburgh; but my education, at the present
+day, would not be what it is - perfect, had I never had the honour of
+being <i>alumnus</i> in an Irish seminary.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Captain,&rsquo; said our kind host, &lsquo;you would, no doubt,
+wish that the young gentleman should enjoy every advantage which the
+town may afford towards helping him on in the path of genteel learning.&nbsp;
+It&rsquo;s a great pity that he should waste his time in idleness -
+doing nothing else than what he says he has been doing for the last
+fortnight - fishing in the river for trouts which he never catches;
+and wandering up the glen in the mountain, in search of the hips that
+grow there.&nbsp; Now, we have a school here, where he can learn the
+most elegant Latin, and get an insight into the Greek letters, which
+is desirable; and where, moreover, he will have an opportunity of making
+acquaintance with all the Protestant young gentlemen of the place, the
+handsome well-dressed young persons whom your honour sees in the church
+on the Sundays, when your honour goes there in the morning, with the
+rest of the Protestant military; for it is no Papist school, though
+there may be a Papist or two there - a few poor farmers&rsquo; sons
+from the country, with whom there is no necessity for your honour&rsquo;s
+child to form any acquaintance at all, at all!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And to the school I went, where I read the Latin tongue and the Greek
+letters, with a nice old clergyman, who sat behind a black oaken desk,
+with a huge Elzevir Flaccus before him, in a long gloomy kind of hall,
+with a broken stone floor, the roof festooned with cobwebs, the walls
+considerably dilapidated, and covered over with strange figures and
+hieroglyphics, evidently produced by the application of burnt stick;
+and there I made acquaintance with the Protestant young gentlemen of
+the place, who, with whatever <i>&eacute;clat</i> they might appear
+at church on a Sunday, did assuredly not exhibit to much advantage in
+the schoolroom on the week days, either with respect to clothes or looks.&nbsp;
+And there I was in the habit of sitting on a large stone, before the
+roaring fire in the huge open chimney, and entertaining certain of the
+Protestant young gentlemen of my own age, seated on similar stones,
+with extraordinary accounts of my own adventures, and those of the corps,
+with an occasional anecdote extracted from the story-books of Hickathrift
+and Wight Wallace, pretending to be conning the lesson all the while.<br>
+<br>
+And there I made acquaintance, notwithstanding the hint of the landlord,
+with the Papist &lsquo;gossoons,&rsquo; as they were called, the farmers&rsquo;
+sons from the country; and of these gossoons, of whom there were three,
+two might be reckoned as nothing at all; in the third, however, I soon
+discovered that there was something extraordinary.<br>
+<br>
+He was about sixteen years old, and above six feet high, dressed in
+a gray suit; the coat, from its size, appeared to have been made for
+him some ten years before.&nbsp; He was remarkably narrow-chested and
+round-shouldered, owing, perhaps as much to the tightness of his garment
+as to the hand of nature.&nbsp; His face was long, and his complexion
+swarthy, relieved, however, by certain freckles, with which the skin
+was plentifully studded.&nbsp; He had strange wandering eyes, gray,
+and somewhat unequal in size; they seldom rested on the book, but were
+generally wandering about the room, from one object to another.&nbsp;
+Sometimes he would fix them intently on the wall, and then suddenly
+starting, as if from a reverie, he would commence making certain mysterious
+movements with his thumbs and forefingers, as if he were shuffling something
+from him.<br>
+<br>
+One morning, as he sat by himself on a bench, engaged in this manner,
+I went up to him, and said, &lsquo;Good-day, Murtagh; you do not seem
+to have much to do?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Faith, you may say that, Shorsha dear! - it is seldom much to
+do that I have.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what are you doing with your hands?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Faith, then, if I must tell you, I was e&rsquo;en dealing with
+the cards.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you play much at cards?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sorra a game, Shorsha, have I played with the cards since my
+uncle Phelim, the thief, stole away the ould pack, when he went to settle
+in the county Waterford!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But you have other things to do?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sorra anything else has Murtagh to do that he cares about and
+that makes me dread so going home at nights.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I should like to know all about you; where do you live, joy?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Faith, then, ye shall know all about me, and where I live.&nbsp;
+It is at a place called the Wilderness that I live, and they call it
+so, because it is a fearful wild place, without any house near it but
+my father&rsquo;s own; and that&rsquo;s where I live when at home.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And your father is a farmer, I suppose?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You may say that; and it is a farmer I should have been, like
+my brother Denis, had not my uncle Phelim, the thief, tould my father
+to send me to school, to learn Greek letters, that I might be made a
+saggart of, and sent to Paris and Salamanca.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you would rather be a farmer than a priest?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You may say that! - for, were I a farmer, like the rest, I should
+have something to do, like the rest - something that I cared for - and
+I should come home tired at night, and fall asleep, as the rest do,
+before the fire; but when I comes home at night I am not tired, for
+I have been doing nothing all day that I care for; and then I sits down
+and stares about me, and at the fire, till I become frighted; and then
+I shouts to my brother Denis, or to the gossoons, &ldquo;Get up, I say,
+and let&rsquo;s be doing something; tell us the tale of Finn-ma-Coul,
+and how he lay down in the Shannon&rsquo;s bed, and let the river flow
+down his jaws!&rdquo;&nbsp; Arrah, Shorsha!&nbsp; I wish you would come
+and stay with us, and tell us some o&rsquo; your sweet stories of your
+own self and the snake ye carried about wid ye.&nbsp; Faith, Shorsha
+dear! that snake bates anything about Finn-ma-Coul or Brian Boroo, the
+thieves two, bad luck to them!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And do they get up and tell you stories?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sometimes they does, but oftenmost they curses me, and bids me
+be quiet!&nbsp; But I can&rsquo;t be quiet, either before the fire or
+abed; so I runs out of the house, and stares at the rocks, at the trees,
+and sometimes at the clouds, as they run a race across the bright moon;
+and, the more I stares, the more frighted I grows, till I screeches
+and holloas.&nbsp; And last night I went into the barn, and hid my face
+in the straw; and there, as I lay and shivered in the straw, I heard
+a voice above my head singing out &ldquo;To whit, to whoo!&rdquo; and
+then up I starts, and runs into the house, and falls over my brother
+Denis, as he lies at the fire.&nbsp; &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that for?&rdquo;
+says he.&nbsp; &ldquo;Get up, you thief!&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;and be
+helping me.&nbsp; I have been out into the barn, and an owl has crow&rsquo;d
+at me!&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what has this to do with playing cards?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Little enough, Shorsha dear! - If there were card-playing, I
+should not be frighted.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And why do you not play at cards?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did I not tell you that the thief, my uncle Phelim, stole away
+the pack?&nbsp; If we had the pack, my brother Denis and the gossoons
+would be ready enough to get up from their sleep before the fire, and
+play cards with me for ha&rsquo;pence, or eggs, or nothing at all; but
+the pack is gone - bad luck to the thief who took it!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And why don&rsquo;t you buy another?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it of buying you are speaking?&nbsp; And where am I to get
+the money?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah! that&rsquo;s another thing!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Faith it is, honey! - And now the Christmas holidays is coming,
+when I shall be at home by day as well as night, and then what am I
+to do?&nbsp; Since I have been a saggarting, I have been good for nothing
+at all - neither for work nor Greek - only to play cards!&nbsp; Faith,
+it&rsquo;s going mad I will be!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I say, Murtagh!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, Shorsha dear!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have a pack of cards.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You don&rsquo;t say so, Shorsha ma vourneen? - you don&rsquo;t
+say that you have cards fifty-two?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do, though; and they are quite new - never been once used.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you&rsquo;ll be lending them to me, I warrant?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t think it! - But I&rsquo;ll sell them to you, joy,
+if you like.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hanam mon Dioul! am I not after telling you that I have no money
+at all!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But you have as good as money, to me, at least; and I&rsquo;ll
+take it in exchange.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s that, Shorsha dear?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Irish!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Irish?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, you speak Irish; I heard you talking it the other day to
+the cripple.&nbsp; You shall teach me Irish.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And is it a language-master you&rsquo;d be making of me?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To be sure! - what better can you do? - it would help you to
+pass your time at school.&nbsp; You can&rsquo;t learn Greek, so you
+must teach Irish!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Before Christmas, Murtagh was playing at cards with his brother Denis,
+and I could speak a considerable quantity of broken Irish.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Templemore - Devil&rsquo;s Mountain - No companion - Force of circumstance
+- Way of the world - Ruined castle - Grim and desolate - The donjon
+- Old woman - My own house.<br>
+<br>
+When Christmas was over, and the new year commenced, we broke up our
+quarters, and marched away to Templemore.&nbsp; This was a large military
+station, situated in a wild and thinly inhabited country.&nbsp; Extensive
+bogs were in the neighbourhood, connected with the huge bog of Allen,
+the Palus Maeotis of Ireland.&nbsp; Here and there was seen a ruined
+castle looming through the mists of winter; whilst, at the distance
+of seven miles, rose a singular mountain, exhibiting in its brow a chasm,
+or vacuum, just, for all the world, as if a piece had been bitten out;
+a feat which, according to the tradition of the country, had actually
+been performed by his Satanic majesty, who, after flying for some leagues
+with the morsel in his mouth, becoming weary, dropped it in the vicinity
+of Cashel, where it may now be seen in the shape of a bold bluff hill,
+crowned with the ruins of a stately edifice, probably built by some
+ancient Irish king.<br>
+<br>
+We had been here only a few days, when my brother, who, as I have before
+observed, had become one of his Majesty&rsquo;s officers, was sent on
+detachment to a village at about ten miles&rsquo; distance.&nbsp; He
+was not sixteen, and, though three years older than myself, scarcely
+my equal in stature, for I had become tall and large-limbed for my age;
+but there was a spirit in him which would not have disgraced a general;
+and, nothing daunted at the considerable responsibility which he was
+about to incur, he marched sturdily out of the barrack-yard at the head
+of his party, consisting of twenty light-infantry men, and a tall grenadier
+sergeant, selected expressly by my father, for the soldier-like qualities
+which he possessed, to accompany his son on this his first expedition.&nbsp;
+So out of the barrack-yard, with something of an air, marched my dear
+brother, his single drum and fife playing the inspiring old melody,<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Marlbrouk is gone to the wars,<br>
+He&rsquo;ll never return no more!<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+I soon missed my brother, for I was now alone, with no being, at all
+assimilating in age, with whom I could exchange a word.&nbsp; Of late
+years, from being almost constantly at school, I had cast aside, in
+a great degree, my unsocial habits and natural reserve, but in the desolate
+region in which we now were there was no school; and I felt doubly the
+loss of my brother, whom, moreover, I tenderly loved for his own sake.&nbsp;
+Books I had none, at least such &lsquo;as I cared about&rsquo;; and
+with respect to the old volume, the wonders of which had first beguiled
+me into common reading, I had so frequently pored over its pages, that
+I had almost got its contents by heart.&nbsp; I was therefore in danger
+of falling into the same predicament as Murtagh, becoming &lsquo;frighted&rsquo;
+from having nothing to do!&nbsp; Nay, I had not even his resources;
+I cared not for cards, even if I possessed them and could find people
+disposed to play with them.&nbsp; However, I made the most of circumstances,
+and roamed about the desolate fields and bogs in the neighbourhood,
+sometimes entering the cabins of the peasantry, with a &lsquo;God&rsquo;s
+blessing upon you, good people!&rsquo; where I would take my seat on
+the &lsquo;stranger&rsquo;s stone&rsquo; at the corner of the hearth,
+and, looking them full in the face, would listen to the carles and carlines
+talking Irish.<br>
+<br>
+Ah, that Irish!&nbsp; How frequently do circumstances, at first sight
+the most trivial and unimportant, exercise a mighty and permanent influence
+on our habits and pursuits! - how frequently is a stream turned aside
+from its natural course by some little rock or knoll, causing it to
+make an abrupt turn!&nbsp; On a wild road in Ireland I had heard Irish
+spoken for the first time; and I was seized with a desire to learn Irish,
+the acquisition of which, in my case, became the stepping-stone to other
+languages.&nbsp; I had previously learnt Latin, or rather Lilly; but
+neither Latin nor Lilly made me a philologist.&nbsp; I had frequently
+heard French and other languages, but had felt little desire to become
+acquainted with them; and what, it may be asked, was there connected
+with the Irish calculated to recommend it to my attention?<br>
+<br>
+First of all, and principally, I believe, the strangeness and singularity
+of its tones; then there was something mysterious and uncommon associated
+with its use.&nbsp; It was not a school language, to acquire which was
+considered an imperative duty; no, no; nor was it a drawing-room language,
+drawled out occasionally, in shreds and patches, by the ladies of generals
+and other great dignitaries, to the ineffable dismay of poor officers&rsquo;
+wives.&nbsp; Nothing of the kind; but a speech spoken in out-of-the-way
+desolate places, and in cut-throat kens, where thirty ruffians, at the
+sight of the king&rsquo;s minions, would spring up with brandished sticks
+and an &lsquo;ubbubboo like the blowing up of a powder-magazine.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Such were the points connected with the Irish, which first awakened
+in my mind the desire of acquiring it; and by acquiring it I became,
+as I have already said, enamoured of languages.&nbsp; Having learnt
+one by choice, I speedily, as the reader will perceive, learnt others,
+some of which were widely different from Irish.<br>
+<br>
+Ah, that Irish!&nbsp; I am much indebted to it in more ways than one.&nbsp;
+But I am afraid I have followed the way of the world, which is very
+much wont to neglect original friends and benefactors.&nbsp; I frequently
+find myself, at present, turning up my nose at Irish when I hear it
+in the street; yet I have still a kind of regard for it, the fine old
+language:<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+A labhair Padruic n&rsquo;insefail nan riogh.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+One of the most peculiar features of this part of Ireland is the ruined
+castles, which are so thick and numerous that the face of the country
+appears studded with them, it being difficult to choose any situation
+from which one, at least, may not be descried.&nbsp; They are of various
+ages and styles of architecture, some of great antiquity, like the stately
+remains which crown the Crag of Cashel; others built by the early English
+conquerors; others, and probably the greater part, erections of the
+times of Elizabeth and Cromwell.&nbsp; The whole speaking monuments
+of the troubled and insecure state of the country, from the most remote
+periods to a comparatively modern time.<br>
+<br>
+From the windows of the room where I slept I had a view of one of these
+old places - an indistinct one, it is true, the distance being too great
+to permit me to distinguish more than the general outline.&nbsp; I had
+an anxious desire to explore it.&nbsp; It stood to the south-east; in
+which direction, however, a black bog intervened, which had more than
+once baffled all my attempts to cross it.&nbsp; One morning, however,
+when the sun shone brightly upon the old building, it appeared so near,
+that I felt ashamed at not being able to accomplish a feat seemingly
+so easy; I determined, therefore, upon another trial.&nbsp; I reached
+the bog, and was about to venture upon its black surface, and to pick
+my way amongst its innumerable holes, yawning horribly, and half filled
+with water black as soot, when it suddenly occurred to me that there
+was a road to the south, by following which I might find a more convenient
+route to the object of my wishes.&nbsp; The event justified my expectations,
+for, after following the road for some three miles, seemingly in the
+direction of the Devil&rsquo;s Mountain, I suddenly beheld the castle
+on my left.<br>
+<br>
+I diverged from the road, and, crossing two or three fields, came to
+a small grassy plain, in the midst of which stood the castle.&nbsp;
+About a gun-shot to the south was a small village, which had, probably,
+in ancient days, sprung up beneath its protection.&nbsp; A kind of awe
+came over me as I approached the old building.&nbsp; The sun no longer
+shone upon it, and it looked so grim, so desolate and solitary; and
+here was I, in that wild country, alone with that grim building before
+me.&nbsp; The village was within sight, it is true; but it might be
+a village of the dead for what I knew; no sound issued from it, no smoke
+was rising from its roofs, neither man nor beast was visible, no life,
+no motion - it looked as desolate as the castle itself.&nbsp; Yet I
+was bent on the adventure, and moved on towards the castle across the
+green plain, occasionally casting a startled glance around me; and now
+I was close to it.<br>
+<br>
+It was surrounded by a quadrangular wall, about ten feet in height,
+with a square tower at each corner.&nbsp; At first I could discover
+no entrance; walking round, however, to the northern side, I found a
+wide and lofty gateway with a tower above it, similar to those at the
+angles of the wall; on this side the ground sloped gently down towards
+the bog, which was here skirted by an abundant growth of copse-wood
+and a few evergreen oaks.&nbsp; I passed through the gateway, and found
+myself within a square inclosure of about two acres.&nbsp; On one side
+rose a round and lofty keep, or donjon, with a conical roof, part of
+which had fallen down, strewing the square with its ruins.&nbsp; Close
+to the keep, on the other side, stood the remains of an oblong house,
+built something in the modern style, with various window-holes; nothing
+remained but the bare walls and a few projecting stumps of beams, which
+seemed to have been half burnt.&nbsp; The interior of the walls was
+blackened, as if by fire; fire also appeared at one time to have raged
+out of the window-holes, for the outside about them was black, portentously
+so.&nbsp; &lsquo;I wonder what has been going on here?&rsquo; I exclaimed.<br>
+<br>
+There were echoes among the walls as I walked about the court.&nbsp;
+I entered the keep by a low and frowning doorway: the lower floor consisted
+of a large dungeon-like room, with a vaulted roof; on the left hand
+was a winding staircase in the thickness of the wall; it looked anything
+but inviting; yet I stole softly up, my heart beating.&nbsp; On the
+top of the first flight of stairs was an arched doorway, to the left
+was a dark passage, to the right, stairs leading still higher.&nbsp;
+I stepped under the arch and found myself in an apartment somewhat similar
+to the one below, but higher.&nbsp; There was an object at the farther
+end.<br>
+<br>
+An old woman, at least eighty, was seated on a stone, cowering over
+a few sticks burning feebly on what had once been a right noble and
+cheerful hearth; her side-glance was towards the doorway as I entered,
+for she had heard my foot-steps.&nbsp; I stood suddenly still, and her
+haggard glance rested on my face.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is this your house, mother?&rsquo; I at length demanded, in the
+language which I thought she would best understand.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, my house, my own house; the house of the broken-hearted.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Any other person&rsquo;s house?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My own house, the beggar&rsquo;s house - the accursed house of
+Cromwell!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+A visit - Figure of a man - The dog of peace - The raw wound - The guardroom
+- Boy soldier - Person in authority - Never solitary - Clergyman and
+family - Still-hunting - Fairy man - Near sunset - Bagg - Left-handed
+hitter - Irish and supernatural - At Swanton Morley.<br>
+<br>
+One morning I set out, designing to pay a visit to my brother at the
+place where he was detached; the distance was rather considerable, yet
+I hoped to be back by evening fall, for I was now a shrewd walker, thanks
+to constant practice.&nbsp; I set out early, and, directing my course
+towards the north, I had in less than two hours accomplished considerably
+more than half of the journey.&nbsp; The weather had at first been propitious:
+a slight frost had rendered the ground firm to the tread, and the skies
+were clear; but now a change came over the scene, the skies darkened,
+and a heavy snowstorm came on; the road then lay straight through a
+bog, and was bounded by a deep trench on both sides; I was making the
+best of my way, keeping as nearly as I could in the middle of the road,
+lest, blinded by the snow which was frequently borne into my eyes by
+the wind, I might fall into the dyke, when all at once I heard a shout
+to windward, and turning my eyes I saw the figure of a man, and what
+appeared to be an animal of some kind, coming across the bog with great
+speed, in the direction of myself; the nature of the ground seemed to
+offer but little impediment to these beings, both clearing the holes
+and abysses which lay in their way with surprising agility; the animal
+was, however, some slight way in advance, and, bounding over the dyke,
+appeared on the road just before me.&nbsp; It was a dog, of what species
+I cannot tell, never having seen the like before or since; the head
+was large and round; the ears so tiny as scarcely to be discernible;
+the eyes of a fiery red: in size it was rather small than large; and
+the coat, which was remarkably smooth, as white as the falling flakes.&nbsp;
+It placed itself directly in my path, and showing its teeth, and bristling
+its coat, appeared determined to prevent my progress.&nbsp; I had an
+ashen stick in my hand, with which I threatened it; this, however, only
+served to increase its fury; it rushed upon me, and I had the utmost
+difficulty to preserve myself from its fangs.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What are you doing with the dog, the fairy dog?&rsquo; said a
+man, who at this time likewise cleared the dyke at a bound.<br>
+<br>
+He was a very tall man, rather well dressed as it should seem; his garments,
+however, were, like my own, so covered with snow that I could scarcely
+discern their quality.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What are ye doing with the dog of peace?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish he would show himself one,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I said
+nothing to him, but he placed himself in my road, and would not let
+me pass.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Of course he would not be letting you till he knew where ye were
+going.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He&rsquo;s not much of a fairy,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;or he would
+know that without asking; tell him that I am going to see my brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And who is your brother, little Sas?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What my father is, a royal soldier.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, ye are going then to the detachment at - ; by my shoul, I
+have a good mind to be spoiling your journey.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are doing that already,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;keeping me
+here talking about dogs and fairies; you had better go home and get
+some salve to cure that place over your eye; it&rsquo;s catching cold
+you&rsquo;ll be, in so much snow.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+On one side of the man&rsquo;s forehead there was a raw and staring
+wound, as if from a recent and terrible blow.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Faith, then I&rsquo;ll be going, but it&rsquo;s taking you wid
+me I will be.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And where will you take me?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, then, to Ryan&rsquo;s Castle, little Sas.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You do not speak the language very correctly,&rsquo; said I;
+&lsquo;it is not Sas you should call me - &rsquo;tis Sassannach,&rsquo;
+and forthwith I accompanied the word with a speech full of flowers of
+Irish rhetoric.<br>
+<br>
+The man looked upon me for a moment, fixedly, then, bending his head
+towards his breast, he appeared to be undergoing a kind of convulsion,
+which was accompanied by a sound something resembling laughter; presently
+he looked at me, and there was a broad grin on his features.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By my shoul, it&rsquo;s a thing of peace I&rsquo;m thinking ye.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But now with a whisking sound came running down the road a hare; it
+was nearly upon us before it perceived us; suddenly stopping short,
+however, it sprang into the bog on the right-hand side; after it amain
+bounded the dog of peace, followed by the man, but not until he had
+nodded to me a farewell salutation.&nbsp; In a few moments I lost sight
+of him amidst the snowflakes.<br>
+<br>
+The weather was again clear and fine before I reached the place of detachment.&nbsp;
+It was a little wooden barrack, surrounded by a wall of the same material;
+a sentinel stood at the gate, I passed by him, and, entering the building,
+found myself in a rude kind of guardroom; several soldiers were lying
+asleep on a wooden couch at one end, others lounged on benches by the
+side of a turf fire.&nbsp; The tall sergeant stood before the fire,
+holding a cooking utensil in his left hand; on seeing me, he made the
+military salutation.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is my brother here?&rsquo; said I, rather timidly, dreading to
+hear that he was out, perhaps for the day.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The ensign is in his room, sir,&rsquo; said Bagg, &lsquo;I am
+now preparing his meal, which will presently be ready; you will find
+the ensign above stairs,&rsquo; and he pointed to a broken ladder which
+led to some place above.<br>
+<br>
+And there I found him - the boy soldier - in a kind of upper loft, so
+low that I could touch with my hands the sooty rafters; the floor was
+of rough boards, through the joints of which you could see the gleam
+of the soldiers&rsquo; fire, and occasionally discern their figures
+as they moved about; in one corner was a camp bedstead, by the side
+of which hung the child&rsquo;s sword, gorget, and sash; a deal table
+stood in the proximity of the rusty grate, where smoked and smouldered
+a pile of black turf from the bog, - a deal table without a piece of
+baize to cover it, yet fraught with things not devoid of interest: a
+Bible, given by a mother; the <i>Odyssey</i>, the Greek <i>Odyssey</i>;
+a flute, with broad silver keys; crayons, moreover, and water-colours;
+and a sketch of a wild prospect near, which, though but half finished,
+afforded ample proof of the excellence and skill of the boyish hand
+now occupied upon it.<br>
+<br>
+Ah! he was a sweet being, that boy soldier, a plant of early promise,
+bidding fair to become in after time all that is great, good, and admirable.&nbsp;
+I have read of a remarkable Welshman, of whom it was said, when the
+grave closed over him, that he could frame a harp, and play it; build
+a ship, and sail it; compose an ode, and set it to music.&nbsp; A brave
+fellow that son of Wales - but I had once a brother who could do more
+and better than this, but the grave has closed over him, as over the
+gallant Welshman of yore; there are now but two that remember him -
+the one who bore him, and the being who was nurtured at the same breast.&nbsp;
+He was taken, and I was left! - Truly, the ways of Providence are inscrutable.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You seem to be very comfortable, John,&rsquo; said I, looking
+around the room and at the various objects which I have described above:
+&lsquo;you have a good roof over your head, and have all your things
+about you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, I am very comfortable, George, in many respects; I am, moreover,
+independent, and feel myself a man for the first time in my life - independent
+did I say? - that&rsquo;s not the word, I am something much higher than
+that; here am I, not sixteen yet, a person in authority, like the centurion
+in the book there, with twenty Englishmen under me, worth a whole legion
+of his men, and that fine fellow Bagg to wait upon me, and take my orders.&nbsp;
+Oh! these last six weeks have passed like hours of heaven.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But your time must frequently hang heavy on your hands; this
+is a strange wild place, and you must be very solitary?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am never solitary; I have, as you see, all my things about
+me, and there is plenty of company below stairs.&nbsp; Not that I mix
+with the soldiers; if I did, good-bye to my authority; but when I am
+alone I can hear all their discourse through the planks, and I often
+laugh to myself at the funny things they say.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And have you any acquaintance here?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The very best; much better than the Colonel and the rest, at
+their grand Templemore; I had never so many in my whole life before.&nbsp;
+One has just left me, a gentleman who lives at a distance across the
+bog; he comes to talk with me about Greek, and the <i>Odyssey</i>, for
+he is a very learned man, and understands the old Irish, and various
+other strange languages.&nbsp; He has had a dispute with Bagg.&nbsp;
+On hearing his name, he called him to him, and, after looking at him
+for some time with great curiosity, said that he was sure he was a Dane.&nbsp;
+Bagg, however, took the compliment in dudgeon, and said that he was
+no more a Dane than himself, but a true-born Englishman, and a sergeant
+of six years&rsquo; standing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what other acquaintance have you?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;All kinds; the whole neighbourhood can&rsquo;t make enough of
+me.&nbsp; Amongst others there&rsquo;s the clergyman of the parish and
+his family; such a venerable old man, such fine sons and daughters!&nbsp;
+I am treated by them like a son and a brother - I might be always with
+them if I pleased; there&rsquo;s one drawback, however, in going to
+see them; there&rsquo;s a horrible creature in the house, a kind of
+tutor, whom they keep more from charity than anything else; he is a
+Papist and, they say, a priest; you should see him scowl sometimes at
+my red coat, for he hates the king, and not unfrequently, when the king&rsquo;s
+health is drunk, curses him between his teeth.&nbsp; I once got up to
+strike him; but the youngest of the sisters, who is the handsomest,
+caught my arm and pointed to her forehead.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what does your duty consist of?&nbsp; Have you nothing else
+to do than pay visits and receive them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We do what is required of us, we guard this edifice, perform
+our evolutions, and help the excise; I am frequently called up in the
+dead of night to go to some wild place or other in quest of an illicit
+still; this last part of our duty is poor mean work, I don&rsquo;t like
+it, nor more does Bagg; though without it we should not see much active
+service, for the neighbourhood is quiet; save the poor creatures with
+their stills, not a soul is stirring.&nbsp; &rsquo;Tis true there&rsquo;s
+Jerry Grant.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And who is Jerry Grant?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did you never hear of him? that&rsquo;s strange, the whole country
+is talking about him; he is a kind of outlaw, rebel, or robber, all
+three I daresay; there&rsquo;s a hundred pounds offered for his head.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And where does he live?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;His proper home, they say, is in the Queen&rsquo;s County, where
+he has a band, but he is a strange fellow, fond of wandering about by
+himself amidst the bogs and mountains, and living in the old castles;
+occasionally he quarters himself in the peasants&rsquo; houses, who
+let him do just what he pleases; he is free of his money, and often
+does them good turns, and can be good-humoured enough, so they don&rsquo;t
+dislike him.&nbsp; Then he is what they call a fairy man, a person in
+league with fairies and spirits, and able to work much harm by supernatural
+means, on which account they hold him in great awe; he is, moreover,
+a mighty strong and tall fellow.&nbsp; Bagg has seen him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Has he?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes! and felt him; he too is a strange one.&nbsp; A few days
+ago he was told that Grant had been seen hovering about an old castle
+some two miles off in the bog; so one afternoon what does he do but,
+without saying a word to me - for which, by the bye, I ought to put
+him under arrest, though what I should do without Bagg I have no idea
+whatever - what does he do but walk off to the castle, intending, as
+I suppose, to pay a visit to Jerry.&nbsp; He had some difficulty in
+getting there on account of the turf-holes in the bog, which he was
+not accustomed to; however, thither at last he got and went in.&nbsp;
+It was a strange lonesome place, he says, and he did not much like the
+look of it; however, in he went, and searched about from the bottom
+to the top and down again, but could find no one; he shouted and hallooed,
+but nobody answered, save the rooks and choughs, which started up in
+great numbers.&nbsp; &ldquo;I have lost my trouble,&rdquo; said Bagg,
+and left the castle.&nbsp; It was now late in the afternoon, near sunset,
+when about half-way over the bog he met a man - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And that man was - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Jerry Grant! there&rsquo;s no doubt of it.&nbsp; Bagg says it
+was the most sudden thing in the world.&nbsp; He was moving along, making
+the best of his way, thinking of nothing at all save a public-house
+at Swanton Morley, which he intends to take when he gets home, and the
+regiment is disbanded - though I hope that will not be for some time
+yet: he had just leaped a turf-hole, and was moving on, when, at the
+distance of about six yards before him, he saw a fellow coming straight
+towards him.&nbsp; Bagg says that he stopped short, as suddenly as if
+he had heard the word halt, when marching at double quick time.&nbsp;
+It was quite a surprise, he says, and he can&rsquo;t imagine how the
+fellow was so close upon him before he was aware.&nbsp; He was an immense
+tall fellow - Bagg thinks at least two inches taller than himself -
+very well dressed in a blue coat and buff breeches, for all the world
+like a squire when going out hunting.&nbsp; Bagg, however, saw at once
+that he had a roguish air, and he was on his guard in a moment.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Good-evening to ye, sodger,&rdquo; says the fellow, stepping
+close up to Bagg, and staring him in the face.&nbsp; &ldquo;Good-evening
+to you, sir!&nbsp; I hope you are well,&rdquo; says Bagg.&nbsp; &ldquo;You
+are looking after some one?&rdquo; says the fellow.&nbsp; &ldquo;Just
+so, sir,&rdquo; says Bagg, and forthwith seized him by the collar; the
+man laughed, Bagg says it was such a strange awkward laugh.&nbsp; &ldquo;Do
+you know whom you have got hold of, sodger?&rdquo; said he.&nbsp; &ldquo;I
+believe I do, sir,&rdquo; said Bagg, &ldquo;and in that belief will
+hold you fast in the name of King George and the quarter sessions&rdquo;;
+the next moment he was sprawling with his heels in the air.&nbsp; Bagg
+says there was nothing remarkable in that; he was only flung by a kind
+of wrestling trick, which he could easily have baffled had he been aware
+of it.&nbsp; &ldquo;You will not do that again, sir,&rdquo; said he,
+as he got up and put himself on his guard.&nbsp; The fellow laughed
+again more strangely and awkwardly than before; then, bending his body
+and moving his head from one side to the other as a cat does before
+she springs, and crying out, &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s for ye, sodger!&rdquo;
+he made a dart at Bagg, rushing in with his head foremost.&nbsp; &ldquo;That
+will do, sir,&rdquo; says Bagg, and, drawing himself back, he put in
+a left-handed blow with all the force of his body and arm, just over
+the fellow&rsquo;s right eye - Bagg is a left-handed hitter, you must
+know - and it was a blow of that kind which won him his famous battle
+at Edinburgh with the big Highland sergeant.&nbsp; Bagg says that he
+was quite satisfied with the blow, more especially when he saw the fellow
+reel, fling out his arms, and fall to the ground.&nbsp; &ldquo;And now,
+sir,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll make bold to hand you over to
+the quarter sessions, and, if there is a hundred pounds for taking you,
+who has more right to it than myself?&rdquo;&nbsp; So he went forward,
+but ere he could lay hold of his man the other was again on his legs,
+and was prepared to renew the combat.&nbsp; They grappled each other
+- Bagg says he had not much fear of the result, as he now felt himself
+the best man, the other seeming half-stunned with the blow - but just
+then there came on a blast, a horrible roaring wind bearing night upon
+its wings, snow, and sleet, and hail.&nbsp; Bagg says he had the fellow
+by the throat quite fast, as he thought, but suddenly he became bewildered,
+and knew not where he was; and the man seemed to melt away from his
+grasp, and the wind howled more and more, and the night poured down
+darker and darker; the snow and the sleet thicker and more blinding.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Lord have mercy upon us!&rdquo; said Bagg.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; A strange adventure that; it is well that Bagg
+got home alive.<br>
+<br>
+<i>John</i>.&nbsp; He says that the fight was a fair fight, and that
+the fling he got was a fair fling, the result of a common enough wrestling
+trick.&nbsp; But with respect to the storm, which rose up just in time
+to save the fellow, he is of opinion that it was not fair, but something
+Irish and supernatural.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; I daresay he&rsquo;s right.&nbsp; I have read of
+witchcraft in the Bible.<br>
+<br>
+<i>John</i>.&nbsp; He wishes much to have one more encounter with the
+fellow; he says that on fair ground, and in fine weather, he has no
+doubt that he could master him, and hand him over to the quarter sessions.&nbsp;
+He says that a hundred pounds would be no bad thing to be disbanded
+upon; for he wishes to take an inn at Swanton Morley, keep a cock-pit,
+and live respectably.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; He is quite right; and now kiss me, my darling
+brother, for I must go back through the bog to Templemore.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Groom and cob - Strength and symmetry - Where&rsquo;s the saddle? -
+The first ride - No more fatigue - Love for horses - Pursuit of words
+- Philologist and Pegasus - The smith - What more, agrah? - Sassannach
+tenpence.<br>
+<br>
+And it came to pass that, as I was standing by the door of the barrack
+stable, one of the grooms came out to me, saying, &lsquo;I say, young
+gentleman, I wish you would give the cob a breathing this fine morning.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why do you wish me to mount him?&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;you know
+he is dangerous.&nbsp; I saw him fling you off his back only a few days
+ago.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, that&rsquo;s the very thing, master.&nbsp; I&rsquo;d rather
+see anybody on his back than myself; he does not like me; but, to them
+he does, he can be as gentle as a lamb.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But suppose,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that he should not like me?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We shall soon see that, master,&rsquo; said the groom; &lsquo;and,
+if so be he shows temper, I will be the first to tell you to get down.&nbsp;
+But there&rsquo;s no fear of that; you have never angered or insulted
+him, and to such as you, I say again, he&rsquo;ll be as gentle as a
+lamb.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And how came you to insult him,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;knowing
+his temper as you do?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Merely through forgetfulness, master: I was riding him about
+a month ago, and having a stick in my hand, I struck him, thinking I
+was on another horse, or rather thinking of nothing at all.&nbsp; He
+has never forgiven me, though before that time he was the only friend
+I had in the world; I should like to see you on him, master.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I should soon be off him; I can&rsquo;t ride.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you are all right, master; there&rsquo;s no fear.&nbsp;
+Trust him for not hurting a young gentleman, an officer&rsquo;s son,
+who can&rsquo;t ride.&nbsp; If you were a blackguard dragoon, indeed,
+with long spurs, &lsquo;twere another thing; as it is, he&rsquo;ll treat
+you as if he were the elder brother that loves you.&nbsp; Ride!&nbsp;
+He&rsquo;ll soon teach you to ride if you leave the matter with him.&nbsp;
+He&rsquo;s the best riding-master in all Ireland, and the gentlest.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The cob was led forth; what a tremendous creature!&nbsp; I had frequently
+seen him before, and wondered at him; he was barely fifteen hands, but
+he had the girth of a metropolitan dray-horse; his head was small in
+comparison with his immense neck, which curved down nobly to his wide
+back: his chest was broad and fine, and his shoulders models of symmetry
+and strength; he stood well and powerfully upon his legs, which were
+somewhat short.&nbsp; In a word, he was a gallant specimen of the genuine
+Irish cob, a species at one time not uncommon, but at the present day
+nearly extinct.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There!&rsquo; said the groom, as he looked at him, half admiringly,
+half sorrowfully, &lsquo;with sixteen stone on his back, he&rsquo;ll
+trot fourteen miles in one hour, with your nine stone, some two and
+a half more ay, and clear a six-foot wall at the end of it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;m half afraid,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I had rather you
+would ride him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;d rather so, too, if he would let me; but he remembers
+the blow.&nbsp; Now, don&rsquo;t be afraid, young master, he&rsquo;s
+longing to go out himself.&nbsp; He&rsquo;s been trampling with his
+feet these three days, and I know what that means; he&rsquo;ll let anybody
+ride him but myself, and thank them; but to me he says, &ldquo;No! you
+struck me.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;where&rsquo;s the saddle?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never mind the saddle; if you are ever to be a frank rider, you
+must begin without a saddle; besides, if he felt a saddle, he would
+think you don&rsquo;t trust him, and leave you to yourself.&nbsp; Now,
+before you mount, make his acquaintance - see there, how he kisses you
+and licks your face, and see how he lifts his foot, that&rsquo;s to
+shake hands.&nbsp; You may trust him - now you are on his back at last;
+mind how you hold the bridle - gently, gently!&nbsp; It&rsquo;s not
+four pair of hands like yours can hold him if he wishes to be off.&nbsp;
+Mind what I tell you - leave it all to him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Off went the cob at a slow and gentle trot, too fast and rough, however,
+for so inexperienced a rider.&nbsp; I soon felt myself sliding off,
+the animal perceived it too, and instantly stood stone still till I
+had righted myself; and now the groom came up: &lsquo;When you feel
+yourself going,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;don&rsquo;t lay hold of the mane,
+that&rsquo;s no use; mane never yet saved man from falling, no more
+than straw from drowning; it&rsquo;s his sides you must cling to with
+your calves and feet, till you learn to balance yourself.&nbsp; That&rsquo;s
+it, now abroad with you; I&rsquo;ll bet my comrade a pot of beer that
+you&rsquo;ll be a regular rough-rider by the time you come back.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And so it proved; I followed the directions of the groom, and the cob
+gave me every assistance.&nbsp; How easy is riding, after the first
+timidity is got over, to supple and youthful limbs; and there is no
+second fear.&nbsp; The creature soon found that the nerves of his rider
+were in proper tone.&nbsp; Turning his head half round, he made a kind
+of whining noise, flung out a little foam, and set off.<br>
+<br>
+In less than two hours I had made the circuit of the Devil&rsquo;s Mountain,
+and was returning along the road, bathed with perspiration, but screaming
+with delight; the cob laughing in his equine way, scattering foam and
+pebbles to the left and right, and trotting at the rate of sixteen miles
+an hour.<br>
+<br>
+Oh, that ride! that first ride! - most truly it was an epoch in my existence;
+and I still look back to it with feelings of longing and regret.&nbsp;
+People may talk of first love - it is a very agreeable event, I daresay
+- but give me the flush, and triumph, and glorious sweat of a first
+ride, like mine on the mighty cob!&nbsp; My whole frame was shaken,
+it is true; and during one long week I could hardly move foot or hand;
+but what of that?&nbsp; By that one trial I had become free, as I may
+say, of the whole equine species.&nbsp; No more fatigue, no more stiffness
+of joints, after that first ride round the Devil&rsquo;s Hill on the
+cob.<br>
+<br>
+Oh, that cob! that Irish cob! - may the sod lie lightly over the bones
+of the strongest, speediest, and most gallant of its kind!&nbsp; Oh!
+the days when, issuing from the barrack-gate of Templemore, we commenced
+our hurry-skurry just as inclination led - now across the fields - direct
+over stone walls and running brooks - mere pastime for the cob! - sometimes
+along the road to Thurles and Holy Cross, even to distant Cahir! - what
+was distance to the cob?<br>
+<br>
+It was thus that the passion for the equine race was first awakened
+within me - a passion which, up to the present time, has been rather
+on the increase than diminishing.&nbsp; It is no blind passion; the
+horse being a noble and generous creature, intended by the All-Wise
+to be the helper and friend of man, to whom he stands next in the order
+of creation.&nbsp; On many occasions of my life I have been much indebted
+to the horse, and have found in him a friend and coadjutor, when human
+help and sympathy were not to be obtained.&nbsp; It is therefore natural
+enough that I should love the horse; but the love which I entertain
+for him has always been blended with respect; for I soon perceived that,
+though disposed to be the friend and helper of man, he is by no means
+inclined to be his slave; in which respect he differs from the dog,
+who will crouch when beaten; whereas the horse spurns, for he is aware
+of his own worth and that he carries death within the horn of his heel.&nbsp;
+If, therefore, I found it easy to love the horse, I found it equally
+natural to respect him.<br>
+<br>
+I much question whether philology, or the passion for languages, requires
+so little of an apology as the love for horses.&nbsp; It has been said,
+I believe, that the more languages a man speaks, the more a man is he;
+which is very true, provided he acquires languages as a medium for becoming
+acquainted with the thoughts and feelings of the various sections into
+which the human race is divided; but, in that case, he should rather
+be termed a philosopher than a philologist - between which two the difference
+is wide indeed!&nbsp; An individual may speak and read a dozen languages,
+and yet be an exceedingly poor creature, scarcely half a man; and the
+pursuit of tongues for their own sake, and the mere satisfaction of
+acquiring them, surely argues an intellect of a very low order; a mind
+disposed to be satisfied with mean and grovelling things; taking more
+pleasure in the trumpery casket than in the precious treasure which
+it contains; in the pursuit of words, than in the acquisition of ideas.<br>
+<br>
+I cannot help thinking that it was fortunate for myself, who am, to
+a certain extent, a philologist, that with me the pursuit of languages
+has been always modified by the love of horses; for scarcely had I turned
+my mind to the former, when I also mounted the wild cob, and hurried
+forth in the direction of the Devil&rsquo;s Hill, scattering dust and
+flint-stones on every side; that ride, amongst other things, taught
+me that a lad with thews and sinews was intended by nature for something
+better than mere word-culling; and if I have accomplished anything in
+after life worthy of mentioning, I believe it may partly be attributed
+to the ideas which that ride, by setting my blood in a glow, infused
+into my brain.&nbsp; I might, otherwise, have become a mere philologist;
+one of those beings who toil night and day in culling useless words
+for some <i>opus magnum</i> which Murray will never publish, and nobody
+ever read; beings without enthusiasm, who, having never mounted a generous
+steed, cannot detect a good point in Pegasus himself; like a certain
+philologist, who, though acquainted with the exact value of every word
+in the Greek and Latin languages, could observe no particular beauty
+in one of the most glorious of Homer&rsquo;s rhapsodies.&nbsp; What
+knew he of Pegasus? he had never mounted a generous steed; the merest
+jockey, had the strain been interpreted to him, would have called it
+a brave song! - I return to the brave cob.<br>
+<br>
+On a certain day I had been out on an excursion.&nbsp; In a cross-road,
+at some distance from the Satanic hill, the animal which I rode cast
+a shoe.&nbsp; By good luck a small village was at hand, at the entrance
+of which was a large shed, from which proceeded a most furious noise
+of hammering.&nbsp; Leading the cob by the bridle, I entered boldly.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Shoe this horse, and do it quickly, a gough,&rsquo; said I to
+a wild grimy figure of a man, whom I found alone, fashioning a piece
+of iron.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Arrigod yuit?&rsquo; said the fellow, desisting from his work,
+and staring at me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh yes, I have money,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and of the best&rsquo;;
+and I pulled out an English shilling.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Tabhair chugam?&rsquo; said the smith, stretching out his grimy
+hand.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, I shan&rsquo;t,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;some people are glad
+to get their money when their work is done.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The fellow hammered a little longer, and then proceeded to shoe the
+cob, after having first surveyed it with attention.&nbsp; He performed
+his job rather roughly, and more than once appeared to give the animal
+unnecessary pain, frequently making use of loud and boisterous words.&nbsp;
+By the time the work was done, the creature was in a state of high excitement,
+and plunged and tore.&nbsp; The smith stood at a short distance, seeming
+to enjoy the irritation of the animal, and showing, in a remarkable
+manner, a huge fang, which projected from the under jaw of a very wry
+mouth.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You deserve better handling,&rsquo; said I, as I went up to the
+cob and fondled it; whereupon it whinnied, and attempted to touch my
+face with its nose.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are ye not afraid of that beast?&rsquo; said the smith, showing
+his fang.&nbsp; &lsquo;Arrah, it&rsquo;s vicious that he looks!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It&rsquo;s at you, then! - I don&rsquo;t fear him&rsquo;; and
+thereupon I passed under the horse, between its hind legs.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And is that all you can do, agrah?&rsquo; said the smith.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I can ride him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ye can ride him, and what else, agrah?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I can leap him over a six-foot wall,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Over a wall, and what more, agrah?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nothing more,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;what more would you have?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Can you do this, agrah?&rsquo; said the smith; and he uttered
+a word which I had never heard before, in a sharp pungent tone.&nbsp;
+The effect upon myself was somewhat extraordinary, a strange thrill
+ran through me; but with regard to the cob it was terrible; the animal
+forthwith became like one mad, and reared and kicked with the utmost
+desperation.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Can you do that, agrah?&rsquo; said the smith.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is it?&rsquo; said I, retreating, &lsquo;I never saw the
+horse so before.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Go between his legs, agrah,&rsquo; said the smith, &lsquo;his
+hinder legs&rsquo;; and he again showed his fang.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I dare not,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;he would kill me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He would kill ye! and how do ye know that, agrah?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I feel he would,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;something tells me so.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And it tells ye truth, agrah; but it&rsquo;s a fine beast, and
+it&rsquo;s a pity to see him in such a state: Is agam an&rsquo;t leigeas&rsquo;
+- and here he uttered another word in a voice singularly modified, but
+sweet and almost plaintive; the effect of it was as instantaneous as
+that of the other, but how different! - the animal lost all its fury,
+and became at once calm and gentle.&nbsp; The smith went up to it, coaxed
+and patted it, making use of various sounds of equine endearment; then
+turning to me, and holding out once more the grimy hand, he said, &lsquo;And
+now ye will be giving me the Sassannach tenpence, agrah?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XIV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+A fine old city - Norman master-work - Lollards&rsquo; Hole - Good blood
+- The Spaniard&rsquo;s sword - Old retired officer - Writing to a duke
+- God help the child - Nothing like Jacob - Irish brigades - Old Sergeant
+Meredith - I have been young - Idleness - Only course open - The bookstall
+- A portrait - A banished priest.<br>
+<br>
+From the wild scenes which I have attempted to describe in the latter
+pages I must now transport the reader to others of a widely different
+character.&nbsp; He must suppose himself no longer in Ireland, but in
+the eastern corner of merry England.&nbsp; Bogs, ruins, and mountains
+have disappeared amidst the vapours of the west: I have nothing more
+to say of them; the region in which we are now is not famous for objects
+of that kind: perhaps it flatters itself that it can produce fairer
+and better things, of some of which let me speak; there is a fine old
+city before us, and first of that let me speak.<br>
+<br>
+A fine old city, truly, is that, view it from whatever side you will;
+but it shows best from the east, where the ground, bold and elevated,
+overlooks the fair and fertile valley in which it stands.&nbsp; Gazing
+from those heights, the eye beholds a scene which cannot fail to awaken,
+even in the least sensitive bosom, feelings of pleasure and admiration.&nbsp;
+At the foot of the heights flows a narrow and deep river, with an antique
+bridge communicating with a long and narrow suburb, flanked on either
+side by rich meadows of the brightest green, beyond which spreads the
+city; the fine old city, perhaps the most curious specimen at present
+extant of the genuine old English town.&nbsp; Yes, there it spreads
+from north to south, with its venerable houses, its numerous gardens,
+its thrice twelve churches, its mighty mound, which, if tradition speaks
+true, was raised by human hands to serve as the grave-heap of an old
+heathen king, who sits deep within it, with his sword in his hand, and
+his gold and silver treasures about him.&nbsp; There is a gray old castle
+upon the top of that mighty mound; and yonder, rising three hundred
+feet above the soil, from among those noble forest trees, behold that
+old Norman master-work, that cloud-encircled cathedral spire, around
+which a garrulous army of rooks and choughs continually wheel their
+flight.&nbsp; Now, who can wonder that the children of that fine old
+city are proud of her, and offer up prayers for her prosperity?&nbsp;
+I, myself, who was not born within her walls, offer up prayers for her
+prosperity, that want may never visit her cottages, vice her palaces,
+and that the abomination of idolatry may never pollute her temples.&nbsp;
+Ha, idolatry! the reign of idolatry has been over there for many a long
+year, never more, let us hope, to return; brave hearts in that old town
+have borne witness against it, and sealed their testimony with their
+hearts&rsquo; blood - most precious to the Lord is the blood of His
+saints! we are not far from hallowed ground.&nbsp; Observe ye not yon
+chalky precipice, to the right of the Norman bridge?&nbsp; On this side
+of the stream, upon its brow, is a piece of ruined wall, the last relic
+of what was of old a stately pile, whilst at its foot is a place called
+the Lollards&rsquo; Hole; and with good reason, for many a saint of
+God has breathed his last beneath that white precipice, bearing witness
+against popish idolatry, midst flame and pitch; many a grisly procession
+has advanced along that suburb, across the old bridge, towards the Lollards&rsquo;
+Hole: furious priests in front, a calm pale martyr in the midst, a pitying
+multitude behind.&nbsp; It has had its martyrs, the venerable old town!<br>
+<br>
+Ah! there is good blood in that old city, and in the whole circumjacent
+region of which it is the capital.&nbsp; The Angles possessed the land
+at an early period, which, however, they were eventually compelled to
+share with hordes of Danes and Northmen, who flocked thither across
+the sea to found hearthsteads on its fertile soil.&nbsp; The present
+race, a mixture of Angles and Danes, still preserve much which speaks
+strongly of their northern ancestry; amongst them ye will find the light-brown
+hair of the north, the strong and burly forms of the north, many a wild
+superstition, ay, and many a wild name connected with the ancient history
+of the north and its sublime mythology; the warm heart and the strong
+heart of the old Danes and Saxons still beats in those regions, and
+there ye will find, if anywhere, old northern hospitality and kindness
+of manner, united with energy, perseverance, and dauntless intrepidity;
+better soldiers or mariners never bled in their country&rsquo;s battles
+than those nurtured in those regions, and within those old walls.&nbsp;
+It was yonder, to the west, that the great naval hero of Britain first
+saw the light; he who annihilated the sea pride of Spain, and dragged
+the humbled banner of France in triumph at his stem.&nbsp; He was born
+yonder, towards the west, and of him there is a glorious relic in that
+old town; in its dark flint guildhouse, the roof of which you can just
+descry rising above that maze of buildings, in the upper hall of justice,
+is a species of glass shrine, in which the relic is to be seen; a sword
+of curious workmanship, the blade is of keen Toledan steel, the heft
+of ivory and mother-of-pearl.&nbsp; &rsquo;Tis the sword of Cordova,
+won in bloodiest fray off Saint Vincent&rsquo;s promontory, and presented
+by Nelson to the old capital of the much-loved land of his birth.&nbsp;
+Yes, the proud Spaniard&rsquo;s sword is to be seen in yonder guildhouse,
+in the glass case affixed to the wall: many other relics has the good
+old town, but none prouder than the Spaniard&rsquo;s sword.<br>
+<br>
+Such was the place to which, when the war was over, my father retired:
+it was here that the old tired soldier set himself down with his little
+family.&nbsp; He had passed the greater part of his life in meritorious
+exertion, in the service of his country, and his chief wish now was
+to spend the remainder of his days in quiet and respectability; his
+means, it is true, were not very ample; fortunate it was that his desires
+corresponded with them; with a small fortune of his own, and with his
+half-pay as a royal soldier, he had no fears for himself or for his
+faithful partner and helpmate; but then his children! how was he to
+provide for them? how launch them upon the wide ocean of the world?&nbsp;
+This was, perhaps, the only thought which gave him uneasiness, and I
+believe that many an old retired officer at that time, and under similar
+circumstances, experienced similar anxiety; had the war continued, their
+children would have been, of course, provided for in the army, but peace
+now reigned, and the military career was closed to all save the scions
+of the aristocracy, or those who were in some degree connected with
+that privileged order, an advantage which few of these old officers
+could boast of; they had slight influence with the great, who gave themselves
+very little trouble either about them or their families.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have been writing to the Duke,&rsquo; said my father one day
+to my excellent mother, after we had been at home somewhat better than
+a year.&nbsp; &lsquo;I have been writing to the Duke of York about a
+commission for that eldest boy of ours.&nbsp; He, however, affords me
+no hopes; he says that his list is crammed with names, and that the
+greater number of the candidates have better claims than my son.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not see how that can be,&rsquo; said my mother.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nor do I,&rsquo; replied my father.&nbsp; &lsquo;I see the sons
+of bankers and merchants gazetted every month, and I do not see what
+claims they have to urge, unless they be golden ones.&nbsp; However,
+I have not served my king fifty years to turn grumbler at this time
+of life.&nbsp; I suppose that the people at the head of affairs know
+what is most proper and convenient; perhaps when the lad sees how difficult,
+nay, how impossible it is that he should enter the army, he will turn
+his mind to some other profession; I wish he may!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I think he has already,&rsquo; said my mother; &lsquo;you see
+how fond he is of the arts, of drawing and painting, and, as far as
+I can judge, what he has already done is very respectable; his mind
+seems quite turned that way, and I heard him say the other day that
+he would sooner be a Michael Angelo than a general officer.&nbsp; But
+you are always talking of him; what do you think of doing with the other
+child?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What, indeed!&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;that is a consideration
+which gives me no little uneasiness.&nbsp; I am afraid it will be much
+more difficult to settle him in life than his brother.&nbsp; What is
+he fitted for, even were it in my power to provide for him?&nbsp; God
+help the child!&nbsp; I bear him no ill will, on the contrary, all love
+and affection; but I cannot shut my eyes; there is something so strange
+about him!&nbsp; How he behaved in Ireland!&nbsp; I sent him to school
+to learn Greek, and he picked up Irish!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And Greek as well,&rsquo; said my mother.&nbsp; &lsquo;I heard
+him say the other day that he could read St. John in the original tongue.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You will find excuses for him, I know,&rsquo; said my father.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;You tell me I am always talking of my first-born; I might retort
+by saying you are always thinking of the other: but it is the way of
+women always to side with the second-born.&nbsp; There&rsquo;s what&rsquo;s
+her name in the Bible, by whose wiles the old blind man was induced
+to give to his second son the blessing which was the birthright of the
+other.&nbsp; I wish I had been in his place!&nbsp; I should not have
+been so easily deceived! no disguise would ever have caused me to mistake
+an impostor for my first-born.&nbsp; Though I must say for this boy
+that he is nothing like Jacob; he is neither smooth nor sleek, and,
+though my second-born, is already taller and larger than his brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Just so,&rsquo; said my mother; &lsquo;his brother would make
+a far better Jacob than he.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will hear nothing against my first-born,&rsquo; said my father,
+&lsquo;even in the way of insinuation: he is my joy and pride; the very
+image of myself in my youthful days, long before I fought Big Ben; though
+perhaps not quite so tall or strong built.&nbsp; As for the other, God
+bless the child!&nbsp; I love him, I&rsquo;m sure; but I must be blind
+not to see the difference between him and his brother.&nbsp; Why, he
+has neither my hair nor my eyes; and then his countenance! why, &rsquo;tis
+absolutely swarthy, God forgive me!&nbsp; I had almost said like that
+of a gypsy, but I have nothing to say against that; the boy is not to
+be blamed for the colour of his face, nor for his hair and eyes; but,
+then, his ways and manners! - I confess I do not like them, and that
+they give me no little uneasiness - I know that he kept very strange
+company when he was in Ireland; people of evil report, of whom terrible
+things were said - horse-witches and the like.&nbsp; I questioned him
+once or twice upon the matter, and even threatened him, but it was of
+no use; he put on a look as if he did not understand me, a regular Irish
+look, just such a one as those rascals assume when they wish to appear
+all innocence and simplicity, and they full of malice and deceit all
+the time.&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t like them; they are no friends to old
+England, or its old king, God bless him!&nbsp; They are not good subjects,
+and never were; always in league with foreign enemies.&nbsp; When I
+was in the Coldstream, long before the Revolution, I used to hear enough
+about the Irish brigades kept by the French kings, to be a thorn in
+the side of the English whenever opportunity served.&nbsp; Old Sergeant
+Meredith once told me that in the time of the Pretender there were always,
+in London alone, a dozen of fellows connected with these brigades, with
+the view of seducing the king&rsquo;s soldiers from their allegiance,
+and persuading them to desert to France to join the honest Irish, as
+they were called.&nbsp; One of these traitors once accosted him and
+proposed the matter to him, offering handfuls of gold if he could induce
+any of his comrades to go over.&nbsp; Meredith appeared to consent,
+but secretly gave information to his colonel; the fellow was seized,
+and certain traitorous papers found upon him; he was hanged before Newgate,
+and died exulting in his treason.&nbsp; His name was Michael Nowlan.&nbsp;
+That ever son of mine should have been intimate with the Papist Irish,
+and have learnt their language!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But he thinks of other things now,&rsquo; said my mother.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Other languages, you mean,&rsquo; said my father.&nbsp; &lsquo;It
+is strange that he has conceived such a zest for the study of languages;
+no sooner did he come home than he persuaded me to send him to that
+old priest to learn French and Italian, and, if I remember right, you
+abetted him; but, as I said before, it is in the nature of women invariably
+to take the part of the second-born.&nbsp; Well, there is no harm in
+learning French and Italian, perhaps much good in his case, as they
+may drive the other tongue out of his head.&nbsp; Irish! why, he might
+go to the university but for that; but how would he look when, on being
+examined with respect to his attainments, it was discovered that he
+understood Irish?&nbsp; How did you learn it? they would ask him; how
+did you become acquainted with the language of Papists and rebels?&nbsp;
+The boy would be sent away in disgrace.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Be under no apprehension, I have no doubt that he has long since
+forgotten it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am glad to hear it,&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;for, between
+ourselves, I love the poor child; ay, quite as well as my first-born.&nbsp;
+I trust they will do well, and that God will be their shield and guide;
+I have no doubt He will, for I have read something in the Bible to that
+effect.&nbsp; What is that text about the young ravens being fed?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I know a better than that,&rsquo; said my mother; &lsquo;one
+of David&rsquo;s own words, &ldquo;I have been young and now am grown
+old, yet never have I seen the righteous man forsaken, or his seed begging
+their bread.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I have heard talk of the pleasures of idleness, yet it is my own firm
+belief that no one ever yet took pleasure in it.&nbsp; Mere idleness
+is the most disagreeable state of existence, and both mind and body
+are continually making efforts to escape from it.&nbsp; It has been
+said that idleness is the parent of mischief, which is very true; but
+mischief itself is merely an attempt to escape from the dreary vacuum
+of idleness.&nbsp; There are many tasks and occupations which a man
+is unwilling to perform, but let no one think that he is therefore in
+love with idleness; he turns to something which is more agreeable to
+his inclination, and doubtless more suited to his nature; but he is
+not in love with idleness.&nbsp; A boy may play the truant from school
+because he dislikes books and study; but, depend upon it, he intends
+doing something the while - to go fishing, or perhaps to take a walk;
+and who knows but that from such excursions both his mind and body may
+derive more benefit than from books and school?&nbsp; Many people go
+to sleep to escape from idleness; the Spaniards do; and, according to
+the French account, John Bull, the &rsquo;squire, hangs himself in the
+month of November; but the French, who are a very sensible people, attribute
+the action <i>&agrave; une grande envie de se d&eacute;sennuyer</i>;
+he wishes to be doing something, say they, and having nothing better
+to do, he has recourse to the cord.<br>
+<br>
+It was for want of something better to do that, shortly after my return
+home, I applied myself to the study of languages.&nbsp; By the acquisition
+of Irish, with the first elements of which I had become acquainted under
+the tuition of Murtagh, I had contracted a certain zest and inclination
+for the pursuit.&nbsp; Yet it is probable that had I been launched about
+this time into some agreeable career, that of arms for example, for
+which, being the son of a soldier, I had, as was natural, a sort of
+penchant, I might have thought nothing more of the acquisition of tongues
+of any kind; but, having nothing to do, I followed the only course suited
+to my genius which appeared open to me.<br>
+<br>
+So it came to pass that one day, whilst wandering listlessly about the
+streets of the old town, I came to a small book-stall, and stopping,
+commenced turning over the books; I took up at least a dozen, and almost
+instantly flung them down.&nbsp; What were they to me?&nbsp; At last,
+coming to a thick volume, I opened it, and after inspecting its contents
+for a few minutes, I paid for it what was demanded, and forthwith carried
+it home.<br>
+<br>
+It was a tessaraglot grammar; a strange old book, printed somewhere
+in Holland, which pretended to be an easy guide to the acquirement of
+the French, Italian, Low Dutch, and English tongues, by means of which
+any one conversant in any one of these languages could make himself
+master of the other three.&nbsp; I turned my attention to the French
+and Italian.&nbsp; The old book was not of much value; I derived some
+benefit from it, however, and, conning it intensely, at the end of a
+few weeks obtained some insight into the structure of these two languages.&nbsp;
+At length I had learnt all that the book was capable of informing me,
+yet was still far from the goal to which it had promised to conduct
+me.&nbsp; &lsquo;I wish I had a master!&rsquo; I exclaimed; and the
+master was at hand.&nbsp; In an old court of the old town lived a certain
+elderly personage, perhaps sixty, or thereabouts; he was rather tall,
+and something of a robust make, with a countenance in which bluffness
+was singularly blended with vivacity and grimace; and with a complexion
+which would have been ruddy, but for a yellow hue which rather predominated.&nbsp;
+His dress consisted of a snuff-coloured coat and drab pantaloons, the
+former evidently seldom subjected to the annoyance of a brush, and the
+latter exhibiting here and there spots of something which, if not grease,
+bore a strong resemblance to it; add to these articles an immense frill,
+seldom of the purest white, but invariably of the finest French cambric,
+and you have some idea of his dress.&nbsp; He had rather a remarkable
+stoop, but his step was rapid and vigorous, and as he hurried along
+the streets, he would glance to the right and left with a pair of big
+eyes like plums, and on recognising any one would exalt a pair of grizzled
+eyebrows, and slightly kiss a tawny and ungloved hand.&nbsp; At certain
+hours of the day be might be seen entering the doors of female boarding-schools,
+generally with a book in his hand, and perhaps another just peering
+from the orifice of a capacious back pocket; and at a certain season
+of the year he might be seen, dressed in white, before the altar of
+a certain small popish chapel, chanting from the breviary in very intelligible
+Latin, or perhaps reading from the desk in utterly unintelligible English.&nbsp;
+Such was my preceptor in the French and Italian tongues.&nbsp; &lsquo;Exul
+sacerdos; vone banished priest.&nbsp; I came into England twenty-five
+year ago, &ldquo;my dear.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Monsieur Dante - Condemned musket - Sporting - Sweet rivulet - The Earl&rsquo;s
+Home - The pool - The sonorous voice - What dost thou read? - Man of
+peace - Zohar and Mishna - Money-changers.<br>
+<br>
+So I studied French and Italian under the tuition of the banished priest,
+to whose house I went regularly every evening to receive instruction.&nbsp;
+I made considerable progress in the acquisition of the two languages.&nbsp;
+I found the French by far the most difficult, chiefly on account of
+the accent, which my master himself possessed in no great purity, being
+a Norman by birth.&nbsp; The Italian was my favourite.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Vous serez un jour un grand philologue, mon cher,&rsquo; said
+the old man, on our arriving at the conclusion of Dante&rsquo;s Hell.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I hope I shall be something better,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;before
+I die, or I shall have lived to little purpose.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s true, my dear! philologist - one small poor dog.&nbsp;
+What would you wish to be?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Many things sooner than that; for example, I would rather be
+like him who wrote this book.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Quoi, Monsieur Dante?&nbsp; He was a vagabond, my dear, forced
+to fly from his country.&nbsp; No, my dear, if you would be like one
+poet, be like Monsieur Boileau; he is the poet.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think so.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How, not think so?&nbsp; He wrote very respectable verses; lived
+and died much respected by everybody.&nbsp; T&rsquo;other, one bad dog,
+forced to fly from his country - died with not enough to pay his undertaker.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Were you not forced to flee from your country?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That very true; but there is much difference between me and this
+Dante.&nbsp; He fled from country because he had one bad tongue which
+he shook at his betters.&nbsp; I fly because benefice gone, and head
+going; not on account of the badness of my tongue.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;you can return now; the Bourbons
+are restored.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I find myself very well here; not bad country.&nbsp; Il est vrai
+que la France sera toujours la France; but all are dead there who knew
+me.&nbsp; I find myself very well here.&nbsp; Preach in popish chapel,
+teach schismatic, that is Protestant, child tongues and literature.&nbsp;
+I find myself very well; and why?&nbsp; Because I know how to govern
+my tongue; never call people hard names.&nbsp; Ma foi, il y a beaucoup
+de diff&eacute;rence entre moi et ce sacre de Dante.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Under this old man, who was well versed in the southern languages, besides
+studying French and Italian, I acquired some knowledge of Spanish.&nbsp;
+But I did not devote my time entirely to philology; I had other pursuits.&nbsp;
+I had not forgotten the roving life I had led in former days, nor its
+delights; neither was I formed by Nature to be a pallid indoor student.&nbsp;
+No, no!&nbsp; I was fond of other and, I say it boldly, better things
+than study.&nbsp; I had an attachment to the angle, ay, and to the gun
+likewise.&nbsp; In our house was a condemned musket, bearing somewhere
+on its lock, in rather antique characters, &lsquo;Tower, 1746&rsquo;;
+with this weapon I had already, in Ireland, performed some execution
+among the rooks and choughs, and it was now again destined to be a source
+of solace and amusement to me, in the winter season, especially on occasions
+of severe frost when birds abounded.&nbsp; Sallying forth with it at
+these times, far into the country, I seldom returned at night without
+a string of bullfinches, blackbirds, and linnets hanging in triumph
+round my neck.&nbsp; When I reflect on the immense quantity of powder
+and shot which I crammed down the muzzle of my uncouth fowling-piece,
+I am less surprised at the number of birds which I slaughtered than
+that I never blew my hands, face, and old honeycombed gun, it one and
+the same time, to pieces.<br>
+<br>
+But the winter, alas! (I speak as a fowler) seldom lasts in England
+more than three or four months; so, during the rest of the year, when
+not occupied with my philological studies, I had to seek for other diversions.&nbsp;
+I have already given a hint that I was also addicted to the angle.&nbsp;
+Of course there is no comparison between the two pursuits, the rod and
+line seeming but very poor trumpery to one who has had the honour of
+carrying a noble firelock.&nbsp; There is a time, however, for all things;
+and we return to any favourite amusement with the greater zest, from
+being compelled to relinquish it for a season.&nbsp; So, if I shot birds
+in winter with my firelock, I caught fish in summer, or attempted so
+to do, with my angle.&nbsp; I was not quite so successful, it is true,
+with the latter as with the former; possibly because it afforded me
+less pleasure.&nbsp; It was, indeed, too much of a listless pastime
+to inspire me with any great interest.&nbsp; I not unfrequently fell
+into a doze, whilst sitting on the bank, and more than once let my rod
+drop from my hands into the water.<br>
+<br>
+At some distance from the city, behind a range of hilly ground which
+rises towards the south-west, is a small river, the waters of which,
+after many meanderings, eventually enter the principal river of the
+district, and assist to swell the tide which it rolls down to the ocean.&nbsp;
+It is a sweet rivulet, and pleasant is it to trace its course from its
+spring-head, high up in the remote regions of Eastern Anglia, till it
+arrives in the valley behind yon rising ground; and pleasant is that
+valley, truly a goodly spot, but most lovely where yonder bridge crosses
+the little stream.&nbsp; Beneath its arch the waters rush garrulously
+into a blue pool, and are there stilled, for a time, for the pool is
+deep, and they appear to have sunk to sleep.&nbsp; Farther on, however,
+you hear their voice again, where they ripple gaily over yon gravelly
+shallow.&nbsp; On the left, the hill slopes gently down to the margin
+of the stream.&nbsp; On the right is a green level, a smiling meadow,
+grass of the richest decks the side of the slope; mighty trees also
+adorn it, giant elms, the nearest of which, when the sun is nigh its
+meridian, fling a broad shadow upon the face of the pool; through yon
+vista you catch a glimpse of the ancient brick of an old English hall.&nbsp;
+It has a stately look, that old building, indistinctly seen, as it is,
+among those umbrageous trees; you might almost suppose it an earl&rsquo;s
+home; and such it was, or rather upon its site stood an earl&rsquo;s
+home, in days of old, for there some old Kemp, some Sigurd or Thorkild,
+roaming in quest of a hearthstead, settled down in the gray old time,
+when Thor and Freya were yet gods, and Odin was a portentous name.&nbsp;
+Yon old hall is still called the Earl&rsquo;s Home, though the hearth
+of Sigurd is now no more, and the bones of the old Kemp, and of Sigrith
+his dame, have been mouldering for a thousand years in some neighbouring
+knoll; perhaps yonder, where those tall Norwegian pines shoot up so
+boldly into the air.&nbsp; It is said that the old earl&rsquo;s galley
+was once moored where is now that blue pool, for the waters of that
+valley were not always sweet; yon valley was once an arm of the sea,
+a salt lagoon, to which the war-barks of &lsquo;Sigurd, in search of
+a home,&rsquo; found their way.<br>
+<br>
+I was in the habit of spending many an hour on the banks of that rivulet,
+with my rod in my hand, and, when tired with angling, would stretch
+myself on the grass, and gaze upon the waters as they glided past, and
+not unfrequently, divesting myself of my dress, I would plunge into
+the deep pool which I have already mentioned, for I had long since learned
+to swim.&nbsp; And it came to pass that on one hot summer&rsquo;s day,
+after bathing in the pool, I passed along the meadow till I came to
+a shallow part, and, wading over to the opposite side, I adjusted my
+dress, and commenced fishing in another pool, beside which was a small
+clump of hazels.<br>
+<br>
+And there I sat upon the bank, at the bottom of the hill which slopes
+down from &lsquo;the Earl&rsquo;s home&rsquo;; my float was on the waters,
+and my back was towards the old hall.&nbsp; I drew up many fish, small
+and great, which I took from off the hook mechanically, and flung upon
+the bank, for I was almost unconscious of what I was about, for my mind
+was not with my fish.&nbsp; I was thinking of my earlier years - of
+the Scottish crags and the heaths of Ireland - and sometimes my mind
+would dwell on my studies - on the sonorous stanzas of Dante, rising
+and falling like the waves of the sea - or would strive to remember
+a couplet or two of poor Monsieur Boileau.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Canst thou answer to thy conscience for pulling all those fish
+out of the water, and leaving them to gasp in the sun?&rsquo; said a
+voice, clear and sonorous as a bell.<br>
+<br>
+I started, and looked round.&nbsp; Close behind me stood the tall figure
+of a man, dressed in raiment of quaint and singular fashion, but of
+goodly materials.&nbsp; He was in the prime and vigour of manhood; his
+features handsome and noble, but full of calmness and benevolence; at
+least I thought so, though they were somewhat shaded by a hat of finest
+beaver, with broad drooping eaves.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Surely that is a very cruel diversion in which thou indulgest,
+my young friend?&rsquo; he continued.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am sorry for it, if it be, sir,&rsquo; said I, rising; &lsquo;but
+I do not think it cruel to fish.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What are thy reasons for not thinking so?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Fishing is mentioned frequently in Scripture.&nbsp; Simon Peter
+was a fisherman.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;True; and Andrew and his brother.&nbsp; But thou forgettest:
+they did not follow fishing as a diversion, as I fear thou doest. -
+Thou readest the Scriptures?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sometimes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sometimes? - not daily? - that is to be regretted.&nbsp; What
+profession dost thou make? - I mean to what religious denomination dost
+thou belong, my young friend.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Church?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is a very good profession - there is much of Scripture contained
+in its liturgy.&nbsp; Dost thou read aught besides the Scriptures?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sometimes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What dost thou read besides?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Greek, and Dante.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Indeed! then thou hast the advantage over myself; I can only
+read the former.&nbsp; Well, I am rejoiced to find that thou hast other
+pursuits beside thy fishing.&nbsp; Dost thou know Hebrew?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thou shouldst study it.&nbsp; Why dost thou not undertake the
+study?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have no books.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will lend thee books, if thou wish to undertake the study.&nbsp;
+I live yonder at the hall, as perhaps thou knowest.&nbsp; I have a library
+there, in which are many curious books, both in Greek and Hebrew, which
+I will show to thee, whenever thou mayest find it convenient to come
+and see me.&nbsp; Farewell!&nbsp; I am glad to find that thou hast pursuits
+more satisfactory than thy cruel fishing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And the man of peace departed, and left me on the bank of the stream.&nbsp;
+Whether from the effect of his words, or from want of inclination to
+the sport, I know not, but from that day I became less and less a practitioner
+of that &lsquo;cruel fishing.&rsquo;&nbsp; I rarely flung line and angle
+into the water, but I not unfrequently wandered by the banks of the
+pleasant rivulet.&nbsp; It seems singular to me, on reflection, that
+I never availed myself of his kind invitation.&nbsp; I say singular,
+for the extraordinary, under whatever form, had long had no slight interest
+for me; and I had discernment enough to perceive that yon was no common
+man.&nbsp; Yet I went not near him, certainly not from bashfulness or
+timidity, feelings to which I had long been an entire stranger.&nbsp;
+Am I to regret this? perhaps, for I might have learned both wisdom and
+righteousness from those calm, quiet lips, and my after-course might
+have been widely different.&nbsp; As it was, I fell in with other guess
+companions, from whom I received widely different impressions than those
+I might have derived from him.&nbsp; When many years had rolled on,
+long after I had attained manhood, and had seen and suffered much, and
+when our first interview had long since been effaced from the mind of
+the man of peace, I visited him in his venerable hall, and partook of
+the hospitality of his hearth.&nbsp; And there I saw his gentle partner
+and his fair children, and on the morrow he showed me the books of which
+he had spoken years before by the side of the stream.&nbsp; In the low
+quiet chamber, whose one window, shaded by a gigantic elm, looks down
+the slope towards the pleasant stream, he took from the shelf his learned
+books, Zohar and Mishna, Toldoth Jesu and Abarbenel.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+am fond of these studies,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;which, perhaps, is
+not to be wondered at, seeing that our people have been compared to
+the Jews.&nbsp; In one respect I confess we are similar to them; we
+are fond of getting money.&nbsp; I do not like this last author, this
+Abarbenel, the worse for having been a money-changer.&nbsp; I am a banker
+myself, as thou knowest.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And would there were many like him, amidst the money-changers of princes!&nbsp;
+The hall of many an earl lacks the bounty, the palace of many a prelate
+the piety and learning, which adorn the quiet quaker&rsquo;s home!<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XVI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Fair of horses - Looks of respect - The fast trotter - Pair of eyes
+- Strange men - Jasper, your pal - Force of blood - Young lady with
+diamonds - Not quite so beautiful.<br>
+<br>
+I was standing on the castle hill in the midst of a fair of horses.<br>
+<br>
+I have already had occasion to mention this castle.&nbsp; It is the
+remains of what was once a Norman stronghold, and is perched upon a
+round mound or monticle, in the midst of the old city.&nbsp; Steep is
+this mound and scarped, evidently by the hand of man; a deep gorge over
+which is flung a bridge, separates it, on the south, from a broad swell
+of open ground called &lsquo;the hill&rsquo;; of old the scene of many
+a tournament and feat of Norman chivalry, but now much used as a show-place
+for cattle, where those who buy and sell beeves and other beasts resort
+at stated periods.<br>
+<br>
+So it came to pass that I stood upon this hill, observing a fair of
+horses.<br>
+<br>
+The reader is already aware that I had long since conceived a passion
+for the equine race; a passion in which circumstances had of late not
+permitted me to indulge.&nbsp; I had no horses to ride, but I took pleasure
+in looking at them; and I had already attended more than one of these
+fairs: the present was lively enough, indeed horse fairs are seldom
+dull.&nbsp; There was shouting and whooping, neighing and braying; there
+was galloping and trotting; fellows with highlows and white stockings,
+and with many a string dangling from the knees of their tight breeches,
+were running desperately, holding horses by the halter, and in some
+cases dragging them along; there were long-tailed steeds and dock-tailed
+steeds of every degree and breed; there were droves of wild ponies,
+and long rows of sober cart horses; there were donkeys, and even mules:
+the last rare things to be seen in damp, misty England, for the mule
+pines in mud and rain, and thrives best with a hot sun above and a burning
+sand below.&nbsp; There were - oh, the gallant creatures!&nbsp; I hear
+their neigh upon the wind; there were - goodliest sight of all - certain
+enormous quadrupeds only seen to perfection in our native isle, led
+about by dapper grooms, their manes ribanded and their tails curiously
+clubbed and balled.&nbsp; Ha! ha! - how distinctly do they say, ha!
+ha!<br>
+<br>
+An old man draws nigh, he is mounted on a lean pony, and he leads by
+the bridle one of these animals; nothing very remarkable about that
+creature, unless in being smaller than the rest and gentle, which they
+are not; he is not of the sightliest look; he is almost dun, and over
+one eye a thick film has gathered.&nbsp; But stay! there <i>is</i> something
+remarkable about that horse, there is something in his action in which
+he differs from all the rest: as he advances, the clamour is hushed!
+all eyes are turned upon him - what looks of interest - of respect -
+and, what is this? people are taking off their hats - surely not to
+that steed!&nbsp; Yes, verily! men, especially old men, are taking off
+their hats to that one-eyed steed, and I hear more than one deep-drawn
+ah!<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What horse is that?&rsquo; said I to a very old fellow, the counterpart
+of the old man on the pony, save that the last wore a faded suit of
+velveteen, and this one was dressed in a white frock.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The best in mother England,&rsquo; said the very old man, taking
+a knobbed stick from his mouth, and looking me in the face, at first
+carelessly, but presently with something like interest; &lsquo;he is
+old like myself, but can still trot his twenty miles an hour.&nbsp;
+You won&rsquo;t live long, my swain; tall and over-grown ones like thee
+never does; yet, if you should chance to reach my years, you may boast
+to thy great-grand-boys thou hast seen Marshland Shales.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Amain I did for the horse what I would neither do for earl nor baron,
+doffed my hat; yes! I doffed my hat to the wondrous horse, the fast
+trotter, the best in mother England; and I too drew a deep ah! and repeated
+the words of the old fellows around.&nbsp; &lsquo;Such a horse as this
+we shall never see again; a pity that he is so old.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Now during all this time I had a kind of consciousness that I had been
+the object of some person&rsquo;s observation; that eyes were fastened
+upon me from somewhere in the crowd.&nbsp; Sometimes I thought myself
+watched from before, sometimes from behind; and occasionally methought
+that, if I just turned my head to the right or left, I should meet a
+peering and inquiring glance; and indeed once or twice I did turn, expecting
+to see somebody whom I knew, yet always without success; though it appeared
+to me that I was but a moment too late, and that some one had just slipped
+away from the direction to which I turned, like the figure in a magic
+lanthorn.&nbsp; Once I was quite sure that there were a pair of eyes
+glaring over my right shoulder; my attention, however, was so fully
+occupied with the objects which I have attempted to describe, that I
+thought very little of this coming and going, this flitting and dodging
+of I knew not whom or what.&nbsp; It was, after all, a matter of sheer
+indifference to me who was looking at me.&nbsp; I could only wish whomsoever
+it might be to be more profitably employed; so I continued enjoying
+what I saw; and now there was a change in the scene, the wondrous old
+horse departed with his aged guardian; other objects of interest are
+at hand; two or three men on horseback are hurrying through the crowd,
+they are widely different in their appearance from the other people
+of the fair; not so much in dress, for they are clad something after
+the fashion of rustic jockeys, but in their look - no light-brown hair
+have they, no ruddy cheeks, no blue quiet glances belong to them; their
+features are dark, their locks long, black, and shining, and their eyes
+are wild; they are admirable horsemen, but they do not sit the saddle
+in the manner of common jockeys, they seem to float or hover upon it,
+like gulls upon the waves; two of them are mere striplings, but the
+third is a very tall man with a countenance heroically beautiful, but
+wild, wild, wild.&nbsp; As they rush along, the crowd give way on all
+sides, and now a kind of ring or circus is formed, within which the
+strange men exhibit their horsemanship, rushing past each other, in
+and out, after the manner of a reel, the tall man occasionally balancing
+himself upon the saddle, and standing erect on one foot.&nbsp; He had
+just regained his seat after the latter feat, and was about to push
+his horse to a gallop, when a figure started forward close from beside
+me, and laying his hand on his neck, and pulling him gently downward,
+appeared to whisper something into his ear; presently the tall man raised
+his head, and, scanning the crowd for a moment in the direction in which
+I was standing, fixed his eyes full upon me, and anon the countenance
+of the whisperer was turned, but only in part, and the side-glance of
+another pair of wild eyes was directed towards my face, but the entire
+visage of the big black man, half stooping as he was, was turned full
+upon mine.<br>
+<br>
+But now, with a nod to the figure who had stopped him, and with another
+inquiring glance at myself, the big man once more put his steed into
+motion, and, after riding round the ring a few more times, darted through
+a lane in the crowd, and followed by his two companions disappeared,
+whereupon the figure who had whispered to him, and had subsequently
+remained in the middle of the space, came towards me, and, cracking
+a whip which he held in his hand so loudly that the report was nearly
+equal to that of a pocket pistol, he cried in a strange tone:<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What! the sap-engro?&nbsp; Lor! the sap-engro upon the hill!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I remember that word,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and I almost think
+I remember you.&nbsp; You can&rsquo;t be - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Jasper, your pal!&nbsp; Truth, and no lie, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is strange that you should have known me,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I am certain, but for the word you used, I should never have
+recognised you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not so strange as you may think, brother; there is something
+in your face which would prevent people from forgetting you, even though
+they might wish it; and your face is not much altered since the time
+you wot of, though you are so much grown.&nbsp; I thought it was you,
+but to make sure I dodged about, inspecting you.&nbsp; I believe you
+felt me, though I never touched you; a sign, brother, that we are akin,
+that we are dui palor - two relations.&nbsp; Your blood beat when mine
+was near, as mine always does at the coming of a brother; and we became
+brothers in that lane.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And where are you staying?&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;in this town?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not in the town; the like of us don&rsquo;t find it exactly wholesome
+to stay in towns, we keep abroad.&nbsp; But I have little to do here
+- come with me, and I&rsquo;ll show you where we stay.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+We descended the hill in the direction of the north, and passing along
+the suburb reached the old Norman bridge, which we crossed; the chalk
+precipice, with the ruin on its top, was now before us; but turning
+to the left we walked swiftly along, and presently came to some rising
+ground, which ascending, we found ourselves upon a wild moor or heath.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are one of them,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;whom people call -
+&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Just so,&rsquo; said Jasper; &lsquo;but never mind what people
+call us.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And that tall handsome man on the hill, whom you whispered?&nbsp;
+I suppose he&rsquo;s one of ye.&nbsp; What is his name?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Tawno Chikno,&rsquo; said Jasper, &lsquo;which means the small
+one; we call him such because he is the biggest man of all our nation.&nbsp;
+You say he is handsome, that is not the word, brother; he&rsquo;s the
+beauty of the world.&nbsp; Women run wild at the sight of Tawno.&nbsp;
+An earl&rsquo;s daughter, near London - a fine young lady with diamonds
+round her neck - fell in love with Tawno.&nbsp; I have seen that lass
+on a heath, as this may be, kneel down to Tawno, clasp his feet, begging
+to be his wife - or anything else - if she might go with him.&nbsp;
+But Tawno would have nothing to do with her: &ldquo;I have a wife of
+my own,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;a lawful rommany wife, whom I love better
+than the whole world, jealous though she sometimes be.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And is she very beautiful?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, you know, brother, beauty is frequently a matter of taste;
+however, as you ask my opinion, I should say not quite so beautiful
+as himself.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+We had now arrived at a small valley between two hills, or downs, the
+sides of which were covered with furze; in the midst of this valley
+were various carts and low tents forming a rude kind of encampment;
+several dark children were playing about, who took no manner of notice
+of us.&nbsp; As we passed one of the tents, however, a canvas screen
+was lifted up, and a woman supported upon a crutch hobbled out.&nbsp;
+She was about the middle age, and, besides being lame, was bitterly
+ugly; she was very slovenly dressed, and on her swarthy features ill
+nature was most visibly stamped.&nbsp; She did not deign me a look,
+but, addressing Jasper in a tongue which I did not understand, appeared
+to put some eager questions to him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He&rsquo;s coming,&rsquo; said Jasper, and passed on.&nbsp; &lsquo;Poor
+fellow,&rsquo; said he to me, &lsquo;he has scarcely been gone an hour,
+and she&rsquo;s jealous already.&nbsp; Well,&rsquo; he continued, &lsquo;what
+do you think of her? you have seen her now, and can judge for yourself
+- that &lsquo;ere woman is Tawno Chikno&rsquo;s wife!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XVII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The tent - Pleasant discourse - I am Pharaoh - Shifting for one&rsquo;s
+self&nbsp; - Horse-shoes - This is wonderful - Bless your wisdom - A
+pretty manoeuvre - Ill day to the Romans - My name is Herne - Singular
+people - An original speech - Word-master - Speaking Romanly.<br>
+<br>
+We went to the farthest of the tents, which stood at a slight distance
+from the rest, and which exactly resembled the one which I have described
+on a former occasion; we went in and sat down one on each side of a
+small fire, which was smouldering on the ground, there was no one else
+in the tent but a tall tawny woman of middle age, who was busily knitting.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Brother,&rsquo; said Jasper, &lsquo;I wish to hold some pleasant
+discourse with you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As much as you please,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;provided you can
+find anything pleasant to talk about.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never fear,&rsquo; said Jasper; &lsquo;and first of all we will
+talk of yourself.&nbsp; Where have you been all this long time?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Here and there,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and far and near, going
+about with the soldiers; but there is no soldiering now, so we have
+sat down, father and family, in the town there.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And do you still hunt snakes?&rsquo; said Jasper.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I have given up that long ago; I do
+better now: read books and learn languages.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, I am sorry you have given up your snake-hunting, many&rsquo;s
+the strange talk I have had with our people about your snake and yourself,
+and how you frightened my father and mother in the lane.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And where are your father and mother?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where I shall never see them, brother; at least, I hope so.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not dead?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, not dead; they are bitchadey pawdel.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sent across - banished.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah! I understand; I am sorry for them.&nbsp; And so you are here
+alone?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not quite alone, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, not alone; but with the rest - Tawno Chikno takes care of
+you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Takes care of me, brother!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, stands to you in the place of a father - keeps you out of
+harm&rsquo;s way.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you take me for, brother?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;For about three years older than myself.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Perhaps; but you are of the Gorgios, and I am a Rommany Chal.&nbsp;
+Tawno Chikno take care of Jasper Petulengro!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is that your name?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you like it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very much, I never heard a sweeter; it is something like what
+you call me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The horse-shoe master and the snake-fellow, I am the first.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who gave you that name?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ask Pharaoh.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I would, if he were here, but I do not see him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am Pharaoh.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you are a king.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Chachipen Pal.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not understand you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where are your languages?&nbsp; You want two things, brother:
+mother sense, and gentle Rommany.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What makes you think that I want sense?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That, being so old, you can&rsquo;t yet guide yourself!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I can read Dante, Jasper.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Anan, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I can charm snakes, Jasper.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I know you can, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, and horses too; bring me the most vicious in the land, if
+I whisper he&rsquo;ll be tame.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then the more shame for you - a snake-fellow - a horse-witch
+- and a lil-reader - yet you can&rsquo;t shift for yourself.&nbsp; I
+laugh at you, brother!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you can shift for yourself?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;For myself and for others, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what does Chikno?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sells me horses, when I bid him.&nbsp; Those horses on the chong
+were mine.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And has he none of his own?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sometimes he has; but he is not so well off as myself.&nbsp;
+When my father and mother were bitchadey pawdel, which, to tell you
+the truth, they were for chiving wafodo dloovu, they left me all they
+had, which was not a little, and I became the head of our family, which
+was not a small one.&nbsp; I was not older than you when that happened;
+yet our people said they had never a better krallis to contrive and
+plan for them, and to keep them in order.&nbsp; And this is so well
+known that many Rommany Chals, not of our family, come and join themselves
+to us, living with us for a time, in order to better themselves, more
+especially those of the poorer sort, who have little of their own.&nbsp;
+Tawno is one of these.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is that fine fellow poor?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One of the poorest, brother.&nbsp; Handsome as he is, he has
+not a horse of his own to ride on.&nbsp; Perhaps we may put it down
+to his wife, who cannot move about, being a cripple, as you saw.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you are what is called a Gypsy King?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay; a Rommany Kral.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are there other kings?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Those who call themselves so; but the true Pharaoh is Petulengro.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did Pharaoh make horse-shoes?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The first who ever did, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pharaoh lived in Egypt.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So did we once, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you left it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My fathers did, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And why did they come here?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They had their reasons, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you are not English?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We are not gorgios.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you have a language of your own?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Avali.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;This is wonderful.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ha, ha!&rsquo; cried the woman, who had hitherto sat knitting,
+at the farther end of the tent, without saying a word, though not inattentive
+to our conversation, as I could perceive by certain glances which she
+occasionally cast upon us both.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ha, ha!&rsquo; she screamed,
+fixing upon me two eyes, which shone like burning coals, and which were
+filled with an expression both of scorn and malignity, &lsquo;It is
+wonderful, is it, that we should have a language of our own?&nbsp; What,
+you grudge the poor people the speech they talk among themselves?&nbsp;
+That&rsquo;s just like you gorgios; you would have everybody stupid,
+single-tongued idiots, like yourselves.&nbsp; We are taken before the
+Poknees of the gav, myself and sister, to give an account of ourselves.&nbsp;
+So I says to my sister&rsquo;s little boy, speaking Rommany, I says
+to the little boy who is with us, Run to my son Jasper, and the rest,
+and tell them to be off, there are hawks abroad.&nbsp; So the Poknees
+questions us, and lets us go, not being able to make anything of us;
+but, as we are going, he calls us back.&nbsp; &ldquo;Good woman,&rdquo;
+says the Poknees, &ldquo;what was that I heard you say just now to the
+little boy?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;I was telling him, your worship, to
+go and see the time of day, and to save trouble, I said it in our language.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Where did you get that language?&rdquo; says the Poknees.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis our own language, sir,&rdquo; I tells him, &ldquo;we
+did not steal it.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Shall I tell you what it is, my
+good woman?&rdquo; says the Poknees.&nbsp; &ldquo;I would thank you,
+sir,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;for &rsquo;tis often we are asked about it.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Well, then,&rdquo; says the Poknees, &ldquo;it is no language
+at all, merely a made-up gibberish.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Oh, bless your
+wisdom,&rdquo; says I, with a curtsey, &ldquo;you can tell us what our
+language is, without understanding it!&rdquo;&nbsp; Another time we
+meet a parson.&nbsp; &ldquo;Good woman,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;what&rsquo;s
+that you are talking?&nbsp; Is it broken language?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Of
+course, your reverence,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;we are broken people;
+give a shilling, your reverence, to the poor broken woman.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+Oh, these gorgios! they grudge us our very language!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;She called you her son, Jasper?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am her son, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I thought you said your parents were - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bitchadey pawdel; you thought right, brother.&nbsp; This is my
+wife&rsquo;s mother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you are married, Jasper?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, truly; I am husband and father.&nbsp; You will see wife and
+chabo anon.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where are they now?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In the gav, penning dukkerin.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We were talking of language, Jasper?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;True, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yours must be a rum one?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&rsquo;Tis called Rommany.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I would gladly know it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You need it sorely.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Would you teach it me?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;None sooner.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Suppose we begin now?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Suppose we do, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not whilst I am here,&rsquo; said the woman, flinging her knitting
+down, and starting upon her feet; &lsquo;not whilst I am here shall
+this gorgio learn Rommany.&nbsp; A pretty manoeuvre, truly; and what
+would be the end of it?&nbsp; I goes to the farming ker with my sister,
+to tell a fortune, and earn a few sixpences for the chabes.&nbsp; I
+sees a jolly pig in the yard, and I says to my sister, speaking Rommany,
+&ldquo;Do so and so,&rdquo; says I; which the farming man hearing, asks
+what we are talking about. &ldquo;Nothing at all, master,&rdquo; says
+I; &ldquo;something about the weather&rdquo;; when who should start
+up from behind a pale, where he has been listening, but this ugly gorgio,
+crying out, &ldquo;They are after poisoning your pigs, neighbour!&rdquo;
+so that we are glad to run, I and my sister, with perhaps the farm-engro
+shouting after us.&nbsp; Says my sister to me, when we have got fairly
+off, &ldquo;How came that ugly one to know what you said to me?&rdquo;&nbsp;
+Whereupon I answers, &ldquo;It all comes of my son Jasper, who brings
+the gorgio to our fire, and must needs be teaching him.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Who was fool there?&rdquo; says my sister.&nbsp; &ldquo;Who,
+indeed, but my son Jasper,&rdquo; I answers.&nbsp; And here should I
+be a greater fool to sit still and suffer it; which I will not do.&nbsp;
+I do not like the look of him; he looks over-gorgeous.&nbsp; An ill
+day to the Romans when he masters Rommany; and, when I says that, I
+pens a true dukkerin.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you call God, Jasper?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You had better be jawing,&rsquo; said the woman, raising her
+voice to a terrible scream; &lsquo;you had better be moving off, my
+gorgio; hang you for a keen one, sitting there by the fire, and stealing
+my language before my face.&nbsp; Do you know whom you have to deal
+with?&nbsp; Do you know that I am dangerous?&nbsp; My name is Herne,
+and I comes of the hairy ones!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And a hairy one she looked!&nbsp; She wore her hair clubbed upon her
+head, fastened with many strings and ligatures; but now, tearing these
+off, her locks, originally jet black, but now partially grizzled with
+age, fell down on every side of her, covering her face and back as far
+down as her knees.&nbsp; No she-bear of Lapland ever looked more fierce
+and hairy than did that woman, as standing in the open part of the tent,
+with her head bent down, and her shoulders drawn up, seemingly about
+to precipitate herself upon me, she repeated, again and again, -<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My name is Herne, and I comes of the hairy ones! - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I call God Duvel, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It sounds very like Devil.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It doth, brother, it doth.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what do you call divine, I mean godly?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh!&nbsp; I call that duvelskoe.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am thinking of something, Jasper.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What are you thinking of, brother?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Would it not be a rum thing if divine and devilish were originally
+one and the same word?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It would, brother, it would - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+. . .<br>
+<br>
+From this time I had frequent interviews with Jasper, sometimes in his
+tent, sometimes on the heath, about which we would roam for hours, discoursing
+on various matters.&nbsp; Sometimes, mounted on one of his horses, of
+which he had several, I would accompany him to various fairs and markets
+in the neighbourhood, to which he went on his own affairs, or those
+of his tribe.&nbsp; I soon found that I had become acquainted with a
+most singular people, whose habits and pursuits awakened within me the
+highest interest.&nbsp; Of all connected with them, however, their language
+was doubtless that which exercised the greatest influence over my imagination.&nbsp;
+I had at first some suspicion that it would prove a mere made-up gibberish;
+but I was soon undeceived.&nbsp; Broken, corrupted, and half in ruins
+as it was, it was not long before I found that it was an original speech,
+far more so, indeed, than one or two others of high name and celebrity,
+which, up to that time, I had been in the habit of regarding with respect
+and veneration.&nbsp; Indeed many obscure points connected with the
+vocabulary of these languages, and to which neither classic nor modern
+lore afforded any clue, I thought I could now clear up by means of this
+strange broken tongue, spoken by people who dwelt amongst thickets and
+furze bushes, in tents as tawny as their faces, and whom the generality
+of mankind designated, and with much semblance of justice, as thieves
+and vagabonds.&nbsp; But where did this speech come from, and who were
+they who spoke it?&nbsp; These were questions which I could not solve,
+and which Jasper himself, when pressed, confessed his inability to answer.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;But, whoever we be, brother,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;we are an
+old people, and not what folks in general imagine, broken gorgios; and,
+if we are not Egyptians, we are at any rate Rommany Chals!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Rommany Chals!&nbsp; I should not wonder after all,&rsquo; said
+I, &lsquo;that these people had something to do with the founding of
+Rome.&nbsp; Rome, it is said, was built by vagabonds, who knows but
+that some tribe of the kind settled down thereabouts, and called the
+town which they built after their name; but whence did they come originally?
+ah! there is the difficulty.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But abandoning these questions, which at that time were far too profound
+for me, I went on studying the language, and at the same time the characters
+and manners of these strange people.&nbsp; My rapid progress in the
+former astonished, while it delighted, Jasper.&nbsp; &lsquo;We&rsquo;ll
+no longer call you Sap-engro, brother,&rsquo; said he; but rather Lav-engro,
+which in the language of the gorgios meaneth Word-master.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Nay, brother,&rsquo; said Tawno Chikno, with whom I had become
+very intimate, &lsquo;you had better call him Cooro-mengro, I have put
+on <i>the gloves</i> with him, and find him a pure fist-master; I like
+him for that, for I am a Cooro-mengro myself, and was born at Brummagem.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I likes him for his modesty,&rsquo; said Mrs. Chikno; &lsquo;I
+never hears any ill words come from his mouth, but, on the contrary,
+much sweet language.&nbsp; His talk is golden, and he has taught my
+eldest to say his prayers in Rommany, which my rover had never the grace
+to do.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;He is the pal of my rom,&rsquo; said Mrs.
+Petulengro, who was a very handsome woman, &lsquo;and therefore I likes
+him, and not the less for his being a rye; folks calls me high-minded,
+and perhaps I have reason to be so; before I married Pharaoh I had an
+offer from a lord - I likes the young rye, and, if he chooses to follow
+us, he shall have my sister.&nbsp; What say you, mother? should not
+the young rye have my sister Ursula?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am going to my people,&rsquo; said Mrs. Herne, placing a bundle
+upon a donkey, which was her own peculiar property; &lsquo;I am going
+to Yorkshire, for I can stand this no longer.&nbsp; You say you like
+him: in that we differs; I hates the gorgio, and would like, speaking
+Romanly, to mix a little poison with his waters.&nbsp; And now go to
+Lundra, my children, I goes to Yorkshire.&nbsp; Take my blessing with
+ye, and a little bit of a gillie to cheer your hearts with when ye are
+weary.&nbsp; In all kinds of weather have we lived together; but now
+we are parted.&nbsp; I goes broken-hearted - I can&rsquo;t keep you
+company; ye are no longer Rommany.&nbsp; To gain a bad brother, ye have
+lost a good mother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XVIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+What profession? - Not fitted for a Churchman - Erratic course - The
+bitter draught - Principle of woe - Thou wouldst be joyous - What ails
+you? - Poor child of clay.<br>
+<br>
+So the gypsies departed; Mrs. Herne to Yorkshire, and the rest to London:
+as for myself, I continued in the house of my parents, passing my time
+in much the same manner as I have already described, principally in
+philological pursuits; but I was now sixteen, and it was highly necessary
+that I should adopt some profession, unless I intended to fritter away
+my existence, and to be a useless burden to those who had given me birth;
+but what profession was I to choose? there being none in the wide world
+perhaps for which I was suited; nor was there any one for which I felt
+any decided inclination, though perhaps there existed within me a lurking
+penchant for the profession of arms, which was natural enough, as, from
+my earliest infancy, I had been accustomed to military sights and sounds;
+but this profession was then closed, as I have already hinted, and,
+as I believe, it has since continued, to those who, like myself, had
+no better claims to urge than the services of a father.<br>
+<br>
+My father, who, for certain reasons of his own, had no very high opinion
+of the advantages resulting from this career, would have gladly seen
+me enter the Church.&nbsp; His desire was, however, considerably abated
+by one or two passages of my life, which occurred to his recollection.&nbsp;
+He particularly dwelt on the unheard-of manner in which I had picked
+up the Irish language, and drew from thence the conclusion that I was
+not fitted by nature to cut a respectable figure at an English university.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;He will fly off in a tangent,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;and, when
+called upon to exhibit his skill in Greek, will be found proficient
+in Irish; I have observed the poor lad attentively, and really do not
+know what to make of him; but I am afraid he will never make a churchman!&rsquo;&nbsp;
+And I have no doubt that my excellent father was right, both in his
+premisses and the conclusion at which he arrived.&nbsp; I had undoubtedly,
+at one period of my life, forsaken Greek for Irish, and the instructions
+of a learned Protestant divine for those of a Papist gossoon, the card-fancying
+Murtagh; and of late, though I kept it a strict secret, I had abandoned
+in a great measure the study of the beautiful Italian, and the recitation
+of the sonorous terzets of the Divine Comedy, in which at one time I
+took the greatest delight, in order to become acquainted with the broken
+speech, and yet more broken songs, of certain houseless wanderers whom
+I had met at a horse fair.&nbsp; Such an erratic course was certainly
+by no means in consonance with the sober and unvarying routine of college
+study.&nbsp; And my father, who was a man of excellent common sense,
+displayed it in not pressing me to adopt a profession which required
+qualities of mind which he saw I did not possess.<br>
+<br>
+Other professions were talked of, amongst which the law; but now an
+event occurred which had nearly stopped my career, and merged all minor
+points of solicitude in anxiety for my life.&nbsp; My strength and appetite
+suddenly deserted me, and I began to pine and droop.&nbsp; Some said
+that I had overgrown myself, and that these were the symptoms of a rapid
+decline; I grew worse and worse, and was soon stretched upon my bed,
+from which it seemed scarcely probable that I should ever more rise,
+the physicians themselves giving but slight hopes of my recovery: as
+for myself, I made up my mind to die, and felt quite resigned.&nbsp;
+I was sadly ignorant at that time, and, when I thought of death, it
+appeared to me little else than a pleasant sleep, and I wished for sleep,
+of which I got but little.&nbsp; It was well that I did not die that
+time, for I repeat that I was sadly ignorant of many important things.&nbsp;
+I did not die, for somebody coming gave me a strange, bitter draught;
+a decoction, I believe, of a bitter root which grows on commons and
+desolate places: and the person who gave it me was an ancient female,
+a kind of doctress, who had been my nurse in my infancy, and who, hearing
+of my state, had come to see me; so I drank the draught, and became
+a little better, and I continued taking draughts made from the bitter
+root till I manifested symptoms of convalescence.<br>
+<br>
+But how much more quickly does strength desert the human frame than
+return to it!&nbsp; I had become convalescent, it is true, but my state
+of feebleness was truly pitiable.&nbsp; I believe it is in that state
+that the most remarkable feature of human physiology frequently exhibits
+itself.&nbsp; Oh, how dare I mention the dark feeling of mysterious
+dread which comes over the mind, and which the lamp of reason, though
+burning bright the while, is unable to dispel!&nbsp; Art thou, as leeches
+say, the concomitant of disease - the result of shattered nerves?&nbsp;
+Nay, rather the principle of woe itself, the fountain-head of all sorrow
+coexistent with man, whose influence he feels when yet unborn, and whose
+workings he testifies with his earliest cries, when, &lsquo;drowned
+in tears,&rsquo; he first beholds the light; for, as the sparks fly
+upward, so is man born to trouble, and woe doth he bring with him into
+the world, even thyself, dark one, terrible one, causeless, unbegotten,
+without a father.&nbsp; Oh, how unfrequently dost thou break down the
+barriers which divide thee from the poor soul of man, and overcast its
+sunshine with thy gloomy shadow.&nbsp; In the brightest days of prosperity
+- in the midst of health and wealth - how sentient is the poor human
+creature of thy neighbourhood! how instinctively aware that the flood-gates
+of horror may be cast open, and the dark stream engulf him for ever
+and ever!&nbsp; Then is it not lawful for man to exclaim, &lsquo;Better
+that I had never been born!&rsquo;&nbsp; Fool, for thyself thou wast
+not born, but to fulfil the inscrutable decrees of thy Creator; and
+how dost thou know that this dark principle is not, after all, thy best
+friend; that it is not that which tempers the whole mass of thy corruption?&nbsp;
+It may be, for what thou knowest, the mother of wisdom, and of great
+works: it is the dread of the horror of the night that makes the pilgrim
+hasten on his way.&nbsp; When thou feelest it nigh, let thy safety word
+be &lsquo;Onward&rsquo;; if thou tarry, thou art overwhelmed.&nbsp;
+Courage! build great works - &rsquo;tis urging thee - it is ever nearest
+the favourites of God - the fool knows little of it.&nbsp; Thou wouldst
+be joyous, wouldst thou? then be a fool.&nbsp; What great work was ever
+the result of joy, the puny one?&nbsp; Who have been the wise ones,
+the mighty ones, the conquering ones of this earth? the joyous?&nbsp;
+I believe not.&nbsp; The fool is happy, or comparatively so - certainly
+the least sorrowful, but he is still a fool: and whose notes are sweetest,
+those of the nightingale, or of the silly lark?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What ails you, my child?&rsquo; said a mother to her son, as
+he lay on a couch under the influence of the dreadful one; &lsquo;what
+ails you? you seem afraid!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<i>Boy</i>.&nbsp; And so I am; a dreadful fear is upon me.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Mother</i>.&nbsp; But of what?&nbsp; There is no one can harm you;
+of what are you apprehensive?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Boy</i>.&nbsp; Of nothing that I can express; I know not what I am
+afraid of, but afraid I am.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Mother</i>.&nbsp; Perhaps you see sights and visions; I knew a lady
+once who was continually thinking that she saw an armed man threaten
+her, but it was only an imagination, a phantom of the brain.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Boy</i>.&nbsp; No armed man threatens me; and &rsquo;tis not a thing
+like that would cause me any fear.&nbsp; Did an armed man threaten me,
+I would get up and fight him; weak as I am, I would wish for nothing
+better, for then, perhaps, I should lose this fear; mine is a dread
+of I know not what, and there the horror lies.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Mother</i>.&nbsp; Your forehead is cool, and your speech collected.&nbsp;
+Do you know where you are?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Boy</i>.&nbsp; I know where I am, and I see things just as they are;
+you are beside me, and upon the table there is a book which was written
+by a Florentine; all this I see, and that there is no ground for being
+afraid.&nbsp; I am, moreover, quite cool, and feel no pain - but, but
+-<br>
+<br>
+And then there was a burst of &lsquo;gemiti, sospiri ed alti guai.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Alas, alas, poor child of clay! as the sparks fly upward, so wast thou
+born to sorrow - Onward!<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XIX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Agreeable delusions - Youth - A profession - Ab Gwilym - Glorious English
+law - There they pass - My dear old master - The deal desk - Language
+of the tents - Where is Morfydd? - Go to - only once.<br>
+<br>
+It has been said by this or that writer, I scarcely know by whom, that,
+in proportion as we grow old, and our time becomes short, the swifter
+does it pass, until at last, as we approach the borders of the grave,
+it assumes all the speed and impetuosity of a river about to precipitate
+itself into an abyss; this is doubtless the case, provided we can carry
+to the grave those pleasant thoughts and delusions, which alone render
+life agreeable, and to which even to the very last we would gladly cling;
+but what becomes of the swiftness of time, when the mind sees the vanity
+of human pursuits? which is sure to be the case when its fondest, dearest
+hopes have been blighted at the very moment when the harvest was deemed
+secure.&nbsp; What becomes from that moment, I repeat, of the shortness
+of time?&nbsp; I put not the question to those who have never known
+that trial, they are satisfied with themselves and all around them,
+with what they have done, and yet hope to do; some carry their delusions
+with them to the borders of the grave, ay, to the very moment when they
+fall into it; a beautiful golden cloud surrounds them to the last, and
+such talk of the shortness of time: through the medium of that cloud
+the world has ever been a pleasant world to them; their only regret
+is that they are so soon to quit it; but oh, ye dear deluded hearts,
+it is not every one who is so fortunate!<br>
+<br>
+To the generality of mankind there is no period like youth.&nbsp; The
+generality are far from fortunate; but the period of youth, even to
+the least so, offers moments of considerable happiness, for they are
+not only disposed but able to enjoy most things within their reach.&nbsp;
+With what trifles at that period are we content; the things from which
+in after-life we should turn away in disdain please us then, for we
+are in the midst of a golden cloud, and everything seems decked with
+a golden hue.&nbsp; Never during any portion of my life did time flow
+on more speedily than during the two or three years immediately succeeding
+the period to which we arrived in the preceding chapter: since then
+it has flagged often enough; sometimes it has seemed to stand entirely
+still; and the reader may easily judge how it fares at the present,
+from the circumstance of my taking pen in hand, and endeavouring to
+write down the passages of my life - a last resource with most people.&nbsp;
+But at the period to which I allude I was just, as I may say, entering
+upon life; I had adopted a profession, and, to keep up my character,
+simultaneously with that profession - the study of a new language.&nbsp;
+I speedily became a proficient in the one, but ever remained a novice
+in the other: a novice in the law, but a perfect master in the Welsh
+tongue.<br>
+<br>
+Yes; very pleasant times were those, when within the womb of a lofty
+deal desk, behind which I sat for some eight hours every day, transcribing
+(when I imagined eyes were upon me) documents of every description in
+every possible hand, Blackstone kept company with Ab Gwilym - the polished
+English lawyer of the last century, who wrote long and prosy chapters
+on the rights of things - with a certain wild Welshman, who some four
+hundred years before that time indited immortal cowydds and odes to
+the wives of Cambrian chieftains - more particularly to one Morfydd,
+the wife of a certain hunchbacked dignitary called by the poet facetiously
+Bwa Bach - generally terminating with the modest request of a little
+private parlance beneath the greenwood bough, with no other witness
+than the eos, or nightingale, a request which, if the poet himself may
+be believed, rather a doubtful point, was seldom, very seldom, denied.&nbsp;
+And by what strange chance had Ab Gwilym and Blackstone, two personages
+so exceedingly different, been thus brought together?&nbsp; From what
+the reader already knows of me, he may be quite prepared to find me
+reading the former; but what could have induced me to take up Blackstone,
+or rather the law?<br>
+<br>
+I have ever loved to be as explicit as possible; on which account, perhaps,
+I never attained to any proficiency in the law, the essence of which
+is said to be ambiguity; most questions may be answered in a few words,
+and this among the rest, though connected with the law.&nbsp; My parents
+deemed it necessary that I should adopt some profession, they named
+the law; the law was as agreeable to me as any other profession within
+my reach, so I adopted the law, and the consequence was, that Blackstone,
+probably for the first time, found himself in company with Ab Gwilym.&nbsp;
+By adopting the law I had not ceased to be Lavengro.<br>
+<br>
+So I sat behind a desk many hours in the day, ostensibly engaged in
+transcribing documents of various kinds; the scene of my labours was
+a strange old house, occupying one side of a long and narrow court,
+into which, however, the greater number of the windows looked not, but
+into an extensive garden, filled with fruit trees, in the rear of a
+large, handsome house, belonging to a highly respectable gentleman,
+who, moyennant un douceur considerable, had consented to instruct my
+father&rsquo;s youngest son in the mysteries of glorious English law.&nbsp;
+Ah! would that I could describe the good gentleman in the manner which
+he deserves; he has long since sunk to his place in a respectable vault,
+in the aisle of a very respectable church, whilst an exceedingly respectable
+marble slab against the neighbouring wall tells on a Sunday some eye
+wandering from its prayer-book that his dust lies below; to secure such
+respectabilities in death, he passed a most respectable life.&nbsp;
+Let no one sneer, he accomplished much; his life was peaceful, so was
+his death.&nbsp; Are these trifles?&nbsp; I wish I could describe him,
+for I loved the man, and with reason, for he was ever kind to me, to
+whom kindness has not always been shown; and he was, moreover, a choice
+specimen of a class which no longer exists - a gentleman lawyer of the
+old school.&nbsp; I would fain describe him, but figures with which
+he has nought to do press forward and keep him from my mind&rsquo;s
+eye; there they pass, Spaniard and Moor, Gypsy, Turk, and livid Jew.&nbsp;
+But who is that? what that thick pursy man in the loose, snuff-coloured
+greatcoat, with the white stockings, drab breeches, and silver buckles
+on his shoes; that man with the bull neck, and singular head, immense
+in the lower part, especially about the jaws, but tapering upward like
+a pear; the man with the bushy brows, small gray eyes replete with catlike
+expression, whose grizzled hair is cut close, and whose ear-lobes are
+pierced with small golden rings?&nbsp; Oh! that is not my dear old master,
+but a widely different personage.&nbsp; Bon jour, Monsieur Vidocq! expressions
+de ma part &agrave; Monsieur Le Baron Taylor.&nbsp; But here he comes
+at last, my veritable old master!<br>
+<br>
+A more respectable-looking individual was never seen; he really looked
+what he was, a gentleman of the law - there was nothing of the pettifogger
+about him: somewhat under the middle size, and somewhat rotund in person,
+he was always dressed in a full suit of black, never worn long enough
+to become threadbare.&nbsp; His face was rubicund, and not without keenness;
+but the most remarkable thing about him was the crown of his head, which
+was bald, and shone like polished ivory, nothing more white, smooth,
+and lustrous.&nbsp; Some people have said that he wore false calves,
+probably because his black silk stockings never exhibited a wrinkle;
+they might just as well have said that he waddled, because his shoes
+creaked; for these last, which were always without a speck, and polished
+as his crown, though of a different hue, did creak, as he walked rather
+slowly.&nbsp; I cannot say that I ever saw him walk fast.<br>
+<br>
+He had a handsome practice, and might have died a very rich man, much
+richer than he did, had he not been in the habit of giving rather expensive
+dinners to certain great people, who gave him nothing in return except
+their company; I could never discover his reasons for doing so, as he
+always appeared to me a remarkably quiet man, by nature averse to noise
+and bustle; but in all dispositions there are anomalies: I have already
+said that he lived in a handsome house, and I may as well here add that
+he had a very handsome wife, who both dressed and talked exceedingly
+well.<br>
+<br>
+So I sat behind the deal desk, engaged in copying documents of various
+kinds; and in the apartment in which I sat, and in the adjoining ones,
+there were others, some of whom likewise copied documents, while some
+were engaged in the yet more difficult task of drawing them up; and
+some of these, sons of nobody, were paid for the work they did, whilst
+others, like myself, sons of somebody, paid for being permitted to work,
+which, as our principal observed, was but reasonable, forasmuch as we
+not unfrequently utterly spoiled the greater part of the work intrusted
+to our hands.<br>
+<br>
+There was one part of the day when I generally found myself quite alone,
+I mean at the hour when the rest went home to their principal meal;
+I, being the youngest, was left to take care of the premises, to answer
+the bell, and so forth, till relieved, which was seldom before the expiration
+of an hour and a half, when I myself went home; this period, however,
+was anything but disagreeable to me, for it was then that I did what
+best pleased me, and, leaving off copying the documents, I sometimes
+indulged in a fit of musing, my chin resting on both my hands, and my
+elbows planted on the desk; or, opening the desk aforesaid, I would
+take out one of the books contained within it, and the book which I
+took out was almost invariably, not Blackstone, but Ab Gwilym.<br>
+<br>
+Ah, that Ab Gwilym!&nbsp; I am much indebted to him, and it were ungrateful
+on my part not to devote a few lines to him and his songs in this my
+history.&nbsp; Start not, reader, I am not going to trouble you with
+a poetical dissertation; no, no; I know my duty too well to introduce
+anything of the kind; but I, who imagine I know several things, and
+amongst others the workings of your mind at this moment, have an idea
+that you are anxious to learn a little, a very little, more about Ab
+Gwilym than I have hitherto told you, the two or three words that I
+have dropped having awakened within you a languid kind of curiosity.&nbsp;
+I have no hesitation in saying that he makes one of the some half-dozen
+really great poets whose verses, in whatever language they wrote, exist
+at the present day, and are more or less known.&nbsp; It matters little
+how I first became acquainted with the writings of this man, and how
+the short thick volume, stuffed full with his immortal imaginings, first
+came into my hands.&nbsp; I was studying Welsh, and I fell in with Ab
+Gwilym by no very strange chance.&nbsp; But, before I say more about
+Ab Gwilym, I must be permitted - I really must - to say a word or two
+about the language in which he wrote, that same &lsquo;Sweet Welsh.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+If I remember right, I found the language a difficult one; in mastering
+it, however, I derived unexpected assistance from what of Irish remained
+in my head, and I soon found that they were cognate dialects, springing
+from some old tongue which itself, perhaps, had sprung from one much
+older.&nbsp; And here I cannot help observing cursorily that I every
+now and then, whilst studying this Welsh, generally supposed to be the
+original tongue of Britain, encountered words which, according to the
+lexicographers, were venerable words highly expressive, showing the
+wonderful power and originality of the Welsh, in which, however, they
+were no longer used in common discourse, but were relics, precious relics,
+of the first speech of Britain, perhaps of the world; with which words,
+however, I was already well acquainted, and which I had picked up, not
+in learned books, classic books, and in tongues of old renown, but whilst
+listening to Mr. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno talking over their everyday
+affairs in the language of the tents; which circumstance did not fail
+to give rise to deep reflection in those moments when, planting my elbows
+on the deal desk, I rested my chin upon my hands.&nbsp; But it is probable
+that I should have abandoned the pursuit of the Welsh language, after
+obtaining a very superficial acquaintance with it, had it not been for
+Ab Gwilym.<br>
+<br>
+A strange songster was that who, pretending to be captivated by every
+woman he saw, was, in reality, in love with nature alone - wild, beautiful,
+solitary nature - her mountains and cascades, her forests and streams,
+her birds, fishes, and wild animals.&nbsp; Go to, Ab Gwilym, with thy
+pseudo-amatory odes, to Morfydd, or this or that other lady, fair or
+ugly; little didst thou care for any of them, Dame Nature was thy love,
+however thou mayest seek to disguise the truth.&nbsp; Yes, yes, send
+thy love-message to Morfydd, the fair wanton.&nbsp; By whom dost thou
+send it, I would know? by the salmon forsooth, which haunts the rushing
+stream! the glorious salmon which bounds and gambols in the flashing
+water, and whose ways and circumstances thou so well describest - see,
+there he hurries upwards through the flashing water.&nbsp; Halloo! what
+a glimpse of glory - but where is Morfydd the while?&nbsp; What, another
+message to the wife of Bwa Bach?&nbsp; Ay, truly; and by whom? - the
+wind! the swift wind, the rider of the world, whose course is not to
+be stayed; who gallops o&rsquo;er the mountain, and, when he comes to
+broadest river, asks neither for boat nor ferry; who has described the
+wind so well - his speed and power?&nbsp; But where is Morfydd?&nbsp;
+And now thou art awaiting Morfydd, the wanton, the wife of the Bwa Bach;
+thou art awaiting her beneath the tall trees, amidst the underwood;
+but she comes not; no Morfydd is there.&nbsp; Quite right, Ab Gwilym;
+what wantest thou with Morfydd? But another form is nigh at hand, that
+of red Reynard, who, seated upon his chine at the mouth of his cave,
+looks very composedly at thee; thou startest, bendest thy bow, thy cross-bow,
+intending to hit Reynard with the bolt just about the jaw; but the bow
+breaks, Reynard barks and disappears into his cave, which by thine own
+account reaches hell - and then thou ravest at the misfortune of thy
+bow, and the non-appearance of Morfydd, and abusest Reynard.&nbsp; Go
+to, thou carest neither for thy bow nor for Morfydd, thou merely seekest
+an opportunity to speak of Reynard; and who has described him like thee?
+the brute with the sharp shrill cry, the black reverse of melody, whose
+face sometimes wears a smile like the devil&rsquo;s in the Evangile.&nbsp;
+But now thou art actually with Morfydd; yes, she has stolen from the
+dwelling of the Bwa Bach and has met thee beneath those rocks - she
+is actually with thee, Ab Gwilym; but she is not long with thee, for
+a storm comes on, and thunder shatters the rocks - Morfydd flees!&nbsp;
+Quite right, Ab Gwilym; thou hadst no need of her, a better theme for
+song is the voice of the Lord - the rock-shatterer - than the frail
+wife of the Bwa Bach.&nbsp; Go to, Ab Gwilym, thou wast a wiser and
+a better man than thou wouldst fain have had people believe.<br>
+<br>
+But enough of thee and thy songs!&nbsp; Those times passed rapidly;
+with Ab Gwilym in my hand, I was in the midst of enchanted ground, in
+which I experienced sensations akin to those I had felt of yore whilst
+spelling my way through the wonderful book - the delight of my childhood.&nbsp;
+I say akin, for perhaps only once in our lives do we experience unmixed
+wonder and delight; and these I had already known.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Silver gray - Good word for everybody - A remarkable youth - Clients
+- Grades in society - The archdeacon - Reading the Bible.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am afraid that I have not acted very wisely in putting this
+boy of ours to the law,&rsquo; said my father to my mother, as they
+sat together one summer evening in their little garden, beneath the
+shade of some tall poplars.<br>
+<br>
+Yes, there sat my father in the garden chair which leaned against the
+wall of his quiet home, the haven in which he had sought rest, and,
+praise be to God, found it, after many a year of poorly-requited toil;
+there he sat, with locks of silver gray which set off so nobly his fine
+bold but benevolent face, his faithful consort at his side, and his
+trusty dog at his feet - an eccentric animal of the genuine regimental
+breed, who, born amongst red coats, had not yet become reconciled to
+those of any other hue, barking and tearing at them when they drew near
+the door, but testifying his fond reminiscence of the former by hospitable
+waggings of the tail whenever a uniform made its appearance - at present
+a very unfrequent occurrence.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am afraid I have not done right in putting him to the law,&rsquo;
+said my father, resting his chin upon his gold-headed bamboo cane.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, what makes you think so?&rsquo; said my mother.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have been taking my usual evening walk up the road, with the
+animal here,&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;and, as I walked along, I
+overtook the boy&rsquo;s master, Mr. S-.&nbsp; We shook hands, and,
+after walking a little way farther, we turned back together, talking
+about this and that; the state of the country, the weather, and the
+dog, which he greatly admired; for he is a good-natured man, and has
+a good word for everybody, though the dog all but bit him when he attempted
+to coax his head; after the dog, we began talking about the boy; it
+was myself who introduced that subject: I thought it was a good opportunity
+to learn how he was getting on, so I asked what he thought of my son;
+he hesitated at first, seeming scarcely to know what to say; at length
+he came out with &ldquo;Oh, a very extraordinary youth, a most remarkable
+youth indeed, captain!&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;I
+am glad to hear it, but I hope you find him steady?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Steady,
+steady,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;why, yes, he&rsquo;s steady, I cannot
+say that he is not steady.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Come, come,&rdquo; said
+I, beginning to be rather uneasy, &ldquo;I see plainly that you are
+not altogether satisfied with him; I was afraid you would not be, for,
+though he is my own son, I am anything but blind to his imperfections;
+but do tell me what particular fault you have to find with him; and
+I will do my best to make him alter his conduct.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;No
+fault to find with him, captain, I assure you, no fault whatever; the
+youth is a remarkable youth, an extraordinary youth, only - &rdquo;&nbsp;
+As I told you before, Mr. S- is the best-natured man in the world, and
+it was only with the greatest difficulty that I could get him to say
+a single word to the disadvantage of the boy, for whom he seems to entertain
+a very great regard.&nbsp; At last I forced the truth from him, and
+grieved I was to hear it; though I must confess that I was somewhat
+prepared for it.&nbsp; It appears that the lad has a total want of discrimination.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t understand you,&rsquo; said my mother.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You can understand nothing that would seem for a moment to impugn
+the conduct of that child.&nbsp; I am not, however, so blind; want of
+discrimination was the word, and it both sounds well, and is expressive.&nbsp;
+It appears that, since he has been placed where is, he has been guilty
+of the grossest blunders; only the other day, Mr. S- told me, as he
+was engaged in close conversation with one of his principal clients,
+the boy came to tell him that a person wanted particularly to speak
+with him; and, on going out, he found a lamentable figure with one eye,
+who came to ask for charity; whom, nevertheless, the lad had ushered
+into a private room, and installed in an arm-chair, like a justice of
+the peace, instead of telling him to go about his business - now what
+did that show, but a total want of discrimination?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish we may never have anything worse to reproach him with,&rsquo;
+said my mother.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know what worse we could reproach him with,&rsquo;
+said my father; &lsquo;I mean of course as far as his profession is
+concerned; discrimination is the very keystone; if he treated all people
+alike, he would soon become a beggar himself; there are grades in society
+as well as in the army; and according to those grades we should fashion
+our behaviour, else there would instantly be an end of all order and
+discipline.&nbsp; I am afraid that the child is too condescending to
+his inferiors, whilst to his superiors he is apt to be unbending enough;
+I don&rsquo;t believe that would do in the world; I am sure it would
+not in the army.&nbsp; He told me another anecdote with respect to his
+behaviour, which shocked me more than the other had done.&nbsp; It appears
+that his wife, who by the bye, is a very fine woman, and highly fashionable,
+gave him permission to ask the boy to tea one evening, for she is herself
+rather partial to the lad; there had been a great dinner party there
+that day, and there were a great many fashionable people, so the boy
+went and behaved very well and modestly for some time, and was rather
+noticed, till, unluckily, a very great gentleman, an archdeacon I think,
+put some questions to him, and, finding that he understood the languages,
+began talking to him about the classics.&nbsp; What do you think? the
+boy had the impertinence to say that the classics were much overvalued,
+and amongst other things that some horrid fellow or other, some Welshman
+I think (thank God it was not an Irishman), was a better poet than Ovid;
+the company were of course horrified; the archdeacon, who is seventy
+years of age, and has seven thousand a year, took snuff and turned away.&nbsp;
+Mrs. S- turned up her eyes, Mr. S-, however, told me with his usual
+good-nature (I suppose to spare my feelings) that he rather enjoyed
+the thing, and thought it a capital joke.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I think so too,&rsquo; said my mother.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not,&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;that a boy of his years
+should entertain an opinion of his own - I mean one which militates
+against all established authority - is astounding; as well might a raw
+recruit pretend to offer an unfavourable opinion on the manual and platoon
+exercise; the idea is preposterous; the lad is too independent by half.&nbsp;
+I never yet knew one of an independent spirit get on in the army, the
+secret of success in the army is the spirit of subordination.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Which is a poor spirit after all,&rsquo; said my mother; &lsquo;but
+the child is not in the army.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And it is well for him that he is not,&rsquo; said my father;
+&lsquo;but you do not talk wisely, the world is a field of battle, and
+he who leaves the ranks, what can he expect but to be cut down?&nbsp;
+I call his present behaviour leaving the ranks, and going vapouring
+about without orders; his only chance lies in falling in again as quick
+as possible; does he think he can carry the day by himself? an opinion
+of his own at these years - I confess I am exceedingly uneasy about
+the lad.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You make me uneasy too,&rsquo; said my mother; &lsquo;but I really
+think you are too hard upon the child; he is not a bad child, after
+all, though not, perhaps, all you could wish him; he is always ready
+to read the Bible.&nbsp; Let us go in; he is in the room above us; at
+least he was two hours ago, I left him there bending over his books;
+I wonder what he has been doing all this time, it is now getting late;
+let us go in, and he shall read to us.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am getting old,&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;and I love to
+hear the Bible read to me, for my own sight is something dim; yet I
+do not wish the child to read to me this night, I cannot so soon forget
+what I have heard; but I hear my eldest son&rsquo;s voice, he is now
+entering the gate; he shall read the Bible to us this night.&nbsp; What
+say you?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The eldest son - Saying of wild Finland - The critical time - Vaunting
+polls - One thing wanted - A father&rsquo;s blessing - Miracle of art
+- The Pope&rsquo;s house - Young enthusiast - Pictures of England -
+Persist and wrestle - The little dark man.<br>
+<br>
+The eldest son!&nbsp; The regard and affection which my father entertained
+for his first-born were natural enough, and appeared to none more so
+than myself, who cherished the same feelings towards him.&nbsp; What
+he was as a boy the reader already knows, for the reader has seen him
+as a boy; fain would I describe him at the time of which I am now speaking,
+when he had attained the verge of manhood, but the pen fails me, and
+I attempt not the task; and yet it ought to be an easy one, for how
+frequently does his form visit my mind&rsquo;s eye in slumber and in
+wakefulness, in the light of day and in the night watches; but last
+night I saw him in his beauty and his strength; he was about to speak,
+and my ear was on the stretch, when at once I awoke, and there was I
+alone, and the night storm was howling amidst the branches of the pines
+which surround my lonely dwelling: &lsquo;Listen to the moaning of the
+pine, at whose root thy hut is fastened,&rsquo; - a saying that, of
+wild Finland, in which there is wisdom; I listened and thought of life
+and death. . . . Of all human beings that I have ever known, that elder
+brother was the most frank and generous, ay, and the quickest and readiest,
+and the best adapted to do a great thing needful at the critical time,
+when the delay of a moment would be fatal.&nbsp; I have known him dash
+from a steep bank into a stream in his full dress, and pull out a man
+who was drowning; yet there were twenty others bathing in the water,
+who might have saved him by putting out a hand, without inconvenience
+to themselves, which, however, they did not do, but stared with stupid
+surprise at the drowning one&rsquo;s struggles.&nbsp; Yes, whilst some
+shouted from the bank to those in the water to save the drowning one,
+and those in the water did nothing, my brother neither shouted nor stood
+still, but dashed from the bank and did the one thing needful, which,
+under such circumstances, not one man in a million would have done.&nbsp;
+Now, who can wonder that a brave old man should love a son like this,
+and prefer him to any other?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My boy, my own boy, you are the very image of myself, the day
+I took off my coat in the park to fight Big Ben,&rsquo; said my father,
+on meeting his son wet and dripping, immediately after his bold feat.&nbsp;
+And who cannot excuse the honest pride of the old man - the stout old
+man?<br>
+<br>
+Ay, old man, that son was worthy of thee, and thou wast worthy of such
+a son; a noble specimen wast thou of those strong single-minded Englishmen,
+who, without making a parade either of religion or loyalty, feared God
+and honoured their king, and were not particularly friendly to the French,
+whose vaunting polls they occasionally broke, as at Minden and at Malplaquet,
+to the confusion vast of the eternal foes of the English land.&nbsp;
+I, who was so little like thee that thou understoodst me not, and in
+whom with justice thou didst feel so little pride, had yet perception
+enough to see all thy worth, and to feel it an honour to be able to
+call myself thy son; and if at some no distant time, when the foreign
+enemy ventures to insult our shore, I be permitted to break some vaunting
+poll, it will be a triumph to me to think that, if thou hadst lived,
+thou wouldst have hailed the deed, and mightest yet discover some distant
+resemblance to thyself, the day when thou didst all but vanquish the
+mighty Brain.<br>
+<br>
+I have already spoken of my brother&rsquo;s taste for painting, and
+the progress he had made in that beautiful art.&nbsp; It is probable
+that, if circumstances had not eventually diverted his mind from the
+pursuit, he would have attained excellence, and left behind him some
+enduring monument of his powers, for he had an imagination to conceive,
+and that yet rarer endowment, a hand capable of giving life, body, and
+reality to the conceptions of his mind; perhaps he wanted one thing,
+the want of which is but too often fatal to the sons of genius, and
+without which genius is little more than a splendid toy in the hands
+of the possessor - perseverance, dogged perseverance, in his proper
+calling; otherwise, though the grave had closed over him, he might still
+be living in the admiration of his fellow-creatures.&nbsp; O ye gifted
+ones, follow your calling, for, however various your talents may be,
+ye can have but one calling capable of leading ye to eminence and renown;
+follow resolutely the one straight path before you, it is that of your
+good angel, let neither obstacles nor temptations induce ye to leave
+it; bound along if you can; if not, on hands and knees follow it, perish
+in it, if needful; but ye need not fear that; no one ever yet died in
+the true path of his calling before he had attained the pinnacle.&nbsp;
+Turn into other paths, and for a momentary advantage or gratification
+ye have sold your inheritance, your immortality.&nbsp; Ye will never
+be heard of after death.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My father has given me a hundred and fifty pounds,&rsquo; said
+my brother to me one morning, &lsquo;and something which is better -
+his blessing.&nbsp; I am going to leave you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And where are you going?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where? to the great city; to London, to be sure.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I should like to go with you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pooh,&rsquo; said my brother, &lsquo;what should you do there?&nbsp;
+But don&rsquo;t be discouraged, I daresay a time will come when you
+too will go to London.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And, sure enough, so it did, and all but too soon.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what do you purpose doing there?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, I go to improve myself in art, to place myself under some
+master of high name, at least I hope to do so eventually.&nbsp; I have,
+however, a plan in my head, which I should wish first to execute; indeed,
+I do not think I can rest till I have done so; every one talks so much
+about Italy, and the wondrous artists which it has produced, and the
+wondrous pictures which are to be found there; now I wish to see Italy,
+or rather Rome, the great city, for I am told that in a certain room
+there is contained the grand miracle of art.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what do you call it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Transfiguration, painted by one Rafael, and it is said to
+be the greatest work of the greatest painter whom the world has ever
+known.&nbsp; I suppose it is because everybody says so, that I have
+such a strange desire to see it.&nbsp; I have already made myself well
+acquainted with its locality, and think that I could almost find my
+way to it blindfold.&nbsp; When I have crossed the Tiber, which, as
+you are aware, runs through Rome, I must presently turn to the right,
+up a rather shabby street, which communicates with a large square, the
+farther end of which is entirely occupied by the front of an immense
+church, with a dome which ascends almost to the clouds, and this church
+they call St. Peter&rsquo;s.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I have read about that in Keysler&rsquo;s
+Travels.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Before the church, in the square, are two fountains, one on either
+side, casting up water in showers; between them, in the midst, is an
+obelisk, brought from Egypt, and covered with mysterious writing; on
+your right rises an edifice, not beautiful nor grand, but huge and bulky,
+where lives a strange kind of priest whom men call the Pope, a very
+horrible old individual, who would fain keep Christ in leading strings,
+calls the Virgin Mary the Queen of Heaven, and himself God&rsquo;s Lieutenant-General
+upon earth.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I have read of him in Foxe&rsquo;s
+<i>Book of</i> <i>Martyrs</i>.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, I do not go straight forward up the flight of steps conducting
+into the church, but I turn to the right, and, passing under the piazza,
+find myself in a court of the huge bulky house; and then ascend various
+staircases, and pass along various corridors and galleries, all of which
+I could describe to you, though I have never seen them; at last a door
+is unlocked, and we enter a room rather high, but not particularly large,
+communicating with another room, into which, however, I do not go, though
+there are noble things in that second room - immortal things, by immortal
+artists; amongst others, a grand piece of Correggio; I do not enter
+it, for the grand picture of the world is not there; but I stand still
+immediately on entering the first room, and I look straight before me,
+neither to the right nor left, though there are noble things both on
+the right and left, for immediately before me at the farther end, hanging
+against the wall, is a picture which arrests me, and I can see nothing
+else, for that picture at the farther end hanging against the wall is
+the picture of the world. . . .&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Yes, go thy way, young enthusiast, and, whether to London town or to
+old Rome, may success attend thee; yet strange fears assail me and misgivings
+on thy account.&nbsp; Thou canst not rest, thou say&rsquo;st, till thou
+hast seen the picture in the chamber at old Rome hanging over against
+the wall; ay, and thus thou dust exemplify thy weakness - thy strength
+too, it may be - for the one idea, fantastic yet lovely, which now possesses
+thee, could only have originated in a genial and fervent brain.&nbsp;
+Well, go, if thou must go; yet it perhaps were better for thee to bide
+in thy native land, and there, with fear and trembling, with groanings,
+with straining eyeballs, toil, drudge, slave, till thou hast made excellence
+thine own; thou wilt scarcely acquire it by staring at the picture over
+against the door in the high chamber of old Rome.&nbsp; Seekest thou
+inspiration? thou needest it not, thou hast it already; and it was never
+yet found by crossing the sea.&nbsp; What hast thou to do with old Rome,
+and thou an Englishman?&nbsp; &lsquo;Did thy blood never glow at the
+mention of thy native land?&rsquo; as an artist merely?&nbsp; Yes, I
+trow, and with reason, for thy native land need not grudge old Rome
+her &lsquo;pictures of the world&rsquo;; she has pictures of her own,
+&lsquo;pictures of England&rsquo;; and is it a new thing to toss up
+caps and shout - England against the world?&nbsp; Yes, against the world
+in all, in all; in science and in arms, in minstrel strain, and not
+less in the art &lsquo;which enables the hand to deceive the intoxicated
+soul by means of pictures.&rsquo;&nbsp; Seek&rsquo;st models? to Gainsborough
+and Hogarth turn, not names of the world, maybe, but English names -
+and England against the world!&nbsp; A living master? why, there he
+comes! thou hast had him long, he has long guided thy young hand towards
+the excellence which is yet far from thee, but which thou canst attain
+if thou shouldst persist and wrestle, even as he has done, &rsquo;midst
+gloom and despondency - ay, and even contempt; he who now comes up the
+creaking stair to thy little studio in the second floor to inspect thy
+last effort before thou departest, the little stout man whose face is
+very dark, and whose eye is vivacious; that man has attained excellence,
+destined some day to be acknowledged, though not till he is cold, and
+his mortal part returned to its kindred clay.&nbsp; He has painted,
+not pictures of the world, but English pictures, such as Gainsborough
+himself might have done; beautiful rural pieces, with trees which might
+well tempt the wild birds to perch upon them, thou needest not run to
+Rome, brother, where lives the old Mariolater, after pictures of the
+world, whilst at home there are pictures of England; nor needest thou
+even go to London, the big city, in search of a master, for thou hast
+one at home in the old East Anglian town who can instruct thee whilst
+thou needest instruction: better stay at home, brother, at least for
+a season, and toil and strive &rsquo;midst groanings and despondency
+till thou hast attained excellence even as he has done - the little
+dark man with the brown coat and the top-boots, whose name will one
+day be considered the chief ornament of the old town, and whose works
+will at no distant period rank amongst the proudest pictures of England
+- and England against the world! - thy master, my brother, thy, at present,
+all too little considered master - Crome.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Desire for novelty - Lives of the lawless - Countenances - Old yeoman
+and dame - We live near the sea - Uncouth-looking volume - The other
+condition - Draoitheac - A dilemma - The Antinomian - Lodowick Muggleton
+- Almost blind - Anders Vedel.<br>
+<br>
+But to proceed with my own story: I now ceased all at once to take much
+pleasure in the pursuits which formerly interested me, I yawned over
+Ab Gwilym, even as I now in my mind&rsquo;s eye perceive the reader
+yawning over the present pages.&nbsp; What was the cause of this? Constitutional
+lassitude, or a desire for novelty?&nbsp; Both it is probable had some
+influence in the matter, but I rather think that the latter feeling
+was predominant.&nbsp; The parting words of my brother had sunk into
+my mind.&nbsp; He had talked of travelling in strange regions and seeing
+strange and wonderful objects, and my imagination fell to work, and
+drew pictures of adventures wild and fantastic, and I thought what a
+fine thing it must be to travel, and I wished that my father would give
+me his blessing, and the same sum that he had given my brother, and
+bid me go forth into the world; always forgetting that I had neither
+talents nor energies at this period which would enable me to make any
+successful figure on its stage.<br>
+<br>
+And then I again sought up the book which had so captivated me in my
+infancy, and I read it through; and I sought up others of a similar
+character, and in seeking for them I met books also of adventure, but
+by no means of a harmless description, lives of wicked and lawless men,
+Murray and Latroon - books of singular power, but of coarse and prurient
+imagination - books at one time highly in vogue; now deservedly forgotten,
+and most difficult to be found.<br>
+<br>
+And when I had gone through these books, what was my state of mind?&nbsp;
+I had derived entertainment from their perusal, but they left me more
+listless and unsettled than before, and really knew not what to do to
+pass my time.&nbsp; My philological studies had become distasteful,
+and I had never taken any pleasure in the duties of my profession.&nbsp;
+I sat behind my desk in a state of torpor, my mind almost as blank as
+the paper before me, on which I rarely traced a line.&nbsp; It was always
+a relief to hear the bell ring, as it afforded me an opportunity of
+doing something which I was yet capable of doing, to rise and open the
+door and stare in the countenances of the visitors.&nbsp; All of a sudden
+I fell to studying countenances, and soon flattered myself that I had
+made considerable progress in the science.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There is no faith in countenances,&rsquo; said some Roman of
+old; &lsquo;trust anything but a person&rsquo;s countenance.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Not trust a man&rsquo;s countenance?&rsquo; say some moderns,
+&lsquo;why, it is the only thing in many people that we can trust; on
+which account they keep it most assiduously out of the way.&nbsp; Trust
+not a man&rsquo;s words if you please, or you may come to very erroneous
+conclusions; but at all times place implicit confidence in a man&rsquo;s
+countenance, in which there is no deceit; and of necessity there can
+be none.&nbsp; If people would but look each other more in the face,
+we should have less cause to complain of the deception of the world;
+nothing so easy as physiognomy nor so useful.&rsquo;&nbsp; Somewhat
+in this latter strain I thought at the time of which I am speaking.&nbsp;
+I am now older, and, let us hope, less presumptuous.&nbsp; It is true
+that in the course of my life I have scarcely ever had occasion to repent
+placing confidence in individuals whose countenances have prepossessed
+me in their favour; though to how many I may have been unjust, from
+whose countenances I may have drawn unfavourable conclusions, is another
+matter.<br>
+<br>
+But it had been decreed by that Fate which governs our every action
+that I was soon to return to my old pursuits.&nbsp; It was written that
+I should not yet cease to be Lav-engro, though I had become, in my own
+opinion, a kind of Lavater.&nbsp; It is singular enough that my renewed
+ardour for philology seems to have been brought about indirectly by
+my physiognomical researches, in which had I not indulged, the event
+which I am about to relate, as far as connected with myself, might never
+have occurred.&nbsp; Amongst the various countenances which I admitted
+during the period of my answering the bell, there were two which particularly
+pleased me, and which belonged to an elderly yeoman and his wife, whom
+some little business had brought to our law sanctuary.&nbsp; I believe
+they experienced from me some kindness and attention, which won the
+old people&rsquo;s hearts.&nbsp; So, one day, when their little business
+had been brought to a conclusion, and they chanced to be alone with
+me, who was seated as usual behind the deal desk in the outer room,
+the old man with some confusion began to tell me how grateful himself
+and dame felt for the many attentions I had shown them, and how desirous
+they were to make me some remuneration.&nbsp; &lsquo;Of course,&rsquo;
+said the old man, &lsquo;we must be cautious what we offer to so fine
+a young gentleman as yourself; we have, however, something we think
+will just suit the occasion, a strange kind of thing which people say
+is a book, though no one that my dame or myself have shown it to can
+make anything out of it; so as we are told that you are a fine young
+gentleman, who can read all the tongues of the earth and stars, as the
+Bible says, we thought, I and my dame, that it would be just the thing
+you would like and my dame has it now at the bottom of her basket.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A book!&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;how did you come by it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We live near the sea,&rsquo; said the old man; &lsquo;so near
+that sometimes our thatch is wet with the spray; and it may now be a
+year ago that there was a fearful storm, and a ship was driven ashore
+during the night, and ere the morn was a complete wreck.&nbsp; When
+we got up at daylight, there were the poor shivering crew at our door;
+they were foreigners, red-haired men, whose speech we did not understand;
+but we took them in, and warmed them, and they remained with us three
+days; and when they went away they left behind them this thing, here
+it is, part of the contents of a box which was washed ashore.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And did you learn who they were?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, yes; they made us understand that they were Danes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Danes! thought I, Danes! and instantaneously, huge and grisly, appeared
+to rise up before my vision the skull of the old pirate Dane, even as
+I had seen it of yore in the pent-house of the ancient church to which,
+with my mother and my brother, I had wandered on the memorable summer
+eve.<br>
+<br>
+And now the old man handed me the book; a strange and uncouth-looking
+volume enough.&nbsp; It was not very large, but instead of the usual
+covering was bound in wood, and was compressed with strong iron clasps.&nbsp;
+It was a printed book, but the pages were not of paper, but vellum,
+and the characters were black, and resembled those generally termed
+Gothic.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is certainly a curious book,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;and I should
+like to have it, but I can&rsquo;t think of taking it as a gift, I must
+give you an equivalent, I never take presents from anybody.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The old man whispered with his dame and chuckled, and then turned his
+face to me, and said, with another chuckle, &lsquo;Well, we have agreed
+about the price, but, maybe, you will not consent.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;what do you demand?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, that you shake me by the hand, and hold out your cheek to
+my old dame, she has taken an affection to you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I shall be very glad to shake you by the hand,&rsquo; said I,
+&lsquo;but as for the other condition, it requires consideration.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No consideration at all,&rsquo; said the old man, with something
+like a sigh; &lsquo;she thinks you like her son, our only child, that
+was lost twenty years ago in the waves of the North Sea.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, that alters the case altogether,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and
+of course I can have no objection.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And now at once I shook off my listlessness, to enable me to do which
+nothing could have happened more opportune than the above event.&nbsp;
+The Danes, the Danes!&nbsp; And was I at last to become acquainted,
+and in so singular a manner, with the speech of a people which had as
+far back as I could remember exercised the strongest influence over
+my imagination, as how should they not! - in infancy there was the summer-eve
+adventure, to which I often looked back, and always with a kind of strange
+interest with respect to those to whom such gigantic and wondrous bones
+could belong as I had seen on that occasion; and, more than this, I
+had been in Ireland, and there, under peculiar circumstances, this same
+interest was increased tenfold.&nbsp; I had mingled much whilst there
+with the genuine Irish - a wild but kind-hearted race, whose conversation
+was deeply imbued with traditionary lore, connected with the early history
+of their own romantic land, and from them I heard enough of the Danes,
+but nothing commonplace, for they never mentioned them but in terms
+which tallied well with my own preconceived ideas.&nbsp; For at an early
+period the Danes had invaded Ireland, and had subdued it, and, though
+eventually driven out, had left behind them an enduring remembrance
+in the minds of the people, who loved to speak of their strength and
+their stature, in evidence of which they would point to the ancient
+raths or mounds where the old Danes were buried, and where bones of
+extraordinary size were occasionally exhumed.&nbsp; And as the Danes
+surpassed other people in strength, so, according to my narrators, they
+also excelled all others in wisdom, or rather in Draoitheac, or magic,
+for they were powerful sorcerers, they said, compared with whom the
+fairy men of the present day knew nothing at all, at all; and, amongst
+other wonderful things, they knew how to make strong beer from the heather
+that grows upon the bogs.&nbsp; Little wonder if the interest, the mysterious
+interest, which I had early felt about the Danes, was increased tenfold
+by my sojourn in Ireland.<br>
+<br>
+And now I had in my possession a Danish book, which, from its appearance,
+might be supposed to have belonged to the very old Danes indeed; but
+how was I to turn it to any account?&nbsp; I had the book, it is true,
+but I did not understand the language, and how was I to overcome that
+difficulty? hardly by poring over the book; yet I did pore over the
+book, daily and nightly, till my eyes were dim, and it appeared to me
+that every now and then I encountered words which I understood - English
+words, though strangely disguised; and I said to myself, Courage!&nbsp;
+English and Danish are cognate dialects, a time will come when I shall
+understand this Danish; and then I pored over the book again, but with
+all my poring I could not understand it; and then I became angry, and
+I bit my lips till the blood came; and I occasionally tore a handful
+from my hair, and flung it upon the floor, but that did not mend the
+matter, for still I did not understand the book, which, however, I began
+to see was written in rhyme - a circumstance rather difficult to discover
+at first, the arrangement of the lines not differing from that which
+is employed in prose; and its being written in rhyme made me only the
+more eager to understand it.<br>
+<br>
+But I toiled in vain, for I had neither grammar nor dictionary of the
+language; and when I sought for them could procure neither; and I was
+much dispirited, till suddenly a bright thought came into my head, and
+I said, although I cannot obtain a dictionary or grammar, I can perhaps
+obtain a Bible in this language, and if I can procure a Bible, I can
+learn the language, for the Bible in every tongue contains the same
+thing, and I have only to compare the words of the Danish Bible with
+those of the English, and, if I persevere, I shall in time acquire the
+language of the Danes; and I was pleased with the thought, which I considered
+to be a bright one, and I no longer bit my lips, or tore my hair, but
+I took my hat, and, going forth, I flung my hat into the air.<br>
+<br>
+And when my hat came down, I put it on my head and commenced running,
+directing my course to the house of the Antinomian preacher, who sold
+books, and whom I knew to have Bibles in various tongues amongst the
+number, and I arrived out of breath, and I found the Antinomian in his
+little library, dusting his books; and the Antinomian clergyman was
+a tall man of about seventy, who wore a hat with a broad brim and a
+shallow crown, and whose manner of speaking was exceedingly nasal; and
+when I saw him, I cried, out of breath, &lsquo;Have you a Danish Bible?&rsquo;
+and he replied, &lsquo;What do you want it for, friend?&rsquo; and I
+answered, &lsquo;To learn Danish by&rsquo;; &lsquo;And maybe to learn
+thy duty,&rsquo; replied the Antinomian preacher.&nbsp; &lsquo;Truly,
+I have it not, but, as you are a customer of mine, I will endeavour
+to procure you one, and I will write to that laudable society which
+men call the Bible Society, an unworthy member of which I am, and I
+hope by next week to procure what you desire.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And when I heard these words of the old man, I was very glad, and my
+heart yearned towards him, and I would fain enter into conversation
+with him; and I said, &lsquo;Why are you an Antinomian?&nbsp; For my
+part I would rather be a dog than belong to such a religion.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Nay, friend,&rsquo; said the Antinomian, &lsquo;thou forejudgest
+us; know that those who call us Antinomians call us so despitefully,
+we do not acknowledge the designation.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Then you
+do not set all law at nought?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Far be it
+from us,&rsquo; said the old man, &lsquo;we only hope that, being sanctified
+by the Spirit from above, we have no need of the law to keep us in order.&nbsp;
+Did you ever hear tell of Lodowick Muggleton?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Not
+I.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;That is strange; know then that he was the founder
+of our poor society, and after him we are frequently, though opprobriously,
+termed Muggletonians, for we are Christians.&nbsp; Here is his book,
+which, perhaps, you can do no better than purchase, you are fond of
+rare books, and this is both curious and rare; I will sell it cheap.&nbsp;
+Thank you, and now be gone, I will do all I can to procure the Bible.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And in this manner I procured the Danish Bible, and I commenced my task;
+first of all, however, I locked up in a closet the volume which had
+excited my curiosity, saying, &lsquo;Out of this closet thou comest
+not till I deem myself competent to read thee,&rsquo; and then I sat
+down in right earnest, comparing every line in the one version with
+the corresponding one in the other; and I passed entire nights in this
+manner, till I was almost blind, and the task was tedious enough at
+first, but I quailed not, and soon began to make progress: and at first
+I had a misgiving that the old book might not prove a Danish book, but
+was soon reassured by reading many words in the Bible which I remembered
+to have seen in the book; and then I went on right merrily, and I found
+that the language which I was studying was by no means a difficult one,
+and in less than a month I deemed myself able to read the book.<br>
+<br>
+Anon, I took the book from the closet, and proceeded to make myself
+master of its contents; I had some difficulty, for the language of the
+book, though in the main the same as the language of the Bible, differed
+from it in some points, being apparently a more ancient dialect; by
+degrees, however, I overcame this difficulty, and I understood the contents
+of the book, and well did they correspond with all those ideas in which
+I had indulged connected with the Danes.&nbsp; For the book was a book
+of ballads, about the deeds of knights and champions, and men of huge
+stature; ballads which from time immemorial had been sung in the North,
+and which some two centuries before the time of which I am speaking
+had been collected by one Anders Vedel, who lived with a certain Tycho
+Brahe, and assisted him in making observations upon the heavenly bodies,
+at a place called Uranias Castle, on the little island of Hveen, in
+the Cattegat.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The two individuals - The long pipe - The Germans - Werther - The female
+Quaker - Suicide - Gibbon - Jesus of Bethlehem - Fill your glass - Shakespeare
+- English at Minden - Melancholy Swayne Vonved - The fifth dinner -
+Strange doctrines - Are you happy? - Improve yourself in German.<br>
+<br>
+It might be some six months after the events last recorded, that two
+individuals were seated together in a certain room, in a certain street
+of the old town which I have so frequently had occasion to mention in
+the preceding pages; one of them was an elderly, and the other a very
+young man, and they sat on either side of a fireplace, beside a table
+on which were fruit and wine; the room was a small one, and in its furniture
+exhibited nothing remarkable.&nbsp; Over the mantelpiece, however, hung
+a small picture with naked figures in the foreground, and with much
+foliage behind.&nbsp; It might not have struck every beholder, for it
+looked old and smoke-dried; but a connoisseur, on inspecting it closely,
+would have pronounced it to be a judgment of Paris, and a masterpiece
+of the Flemish school.<br>
+<br>
+The forehead of the elder individual was high, and perhaps appeared
+more so than it really was, from the hair being carefully brushed back,
+as if for the purpose of displaying to the best advantage that part
+of the cranium; his eyes were large and full, and of a light brown,
+and might have been called heavy and dull, had they not been occasionally
+lighted up by a sudden gleam - not so brilliant however as that which
+at every inhalation shone from the bowl of the long clay pipe which
+he was smoking, but which, from a certain sucking sound which about
+this time began to be heard from the bottom, appeared to be giving notice
+that it would soon require replenishment from a certain canister, which,
+together with a lighted taper, stood upon the table beside him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You do not smoke?&rsquo; said he, at length, laying down his
+pipe, and directing his glance to his companion.<br>
+<br>
+Now there was at least one thing singular connected with this last,
+namely, the colour of his hair, which, notwithstanding his extreme youth,
+appeared to be rapidly becoming gray.&nbsp; He had very long limbs,
+and was apparently tall of stature, in which he differed from his elderly
+companion, who must have been somewhat below the usual height.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, I can&rsquo;t smoke,&rsquo; said the youth, in reply to the
+observation of the other; &lsquo;I have often tried, but could never
+succeed to my satisfaction.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it possible to become a good German without smoking?&rsquo;
+said the senior, half speaking to himself.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I daresay not,&rsquo; said the youth; &lsquo;but I shan&rsquo;t
+break my heart on that account.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As for breaking your heart, of course you would never think of
+such a thing; he is a fool who breaks his heart on any account; but
+it is good to be a German, the Germans are the most philosophic people
+in the world, and the greatest smokers: now I trace their philosophy
+to their smoking.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have heard say their philosophy is all smoke - is that your
+opinion?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, no; but smoking has a sedative effect upon the nerves, and
+enables a man to bear the sorrows of this life (of which every one has
+his share) not only decently, but dignifiedly.&nbsp; Suicide is not
+a national habit in Germany as it is in England.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But that poor creature, Werther, who committed suicide, was a
+German.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Werther is a fictitious character, and by no means a felicitous
+one; I am no admirer either of Werther or his author.&nbsp; But I should
+say that, if there ever was a Werther in Germany, he did not smoke.&nbsp;
+Werther, as you very justly observe, was a poor creature.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And a very sinful one; I have heard my parents say that suicide
+is a great crime.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Broadly, and without qualification, to say that suicide is a
+crime, is speaking somewhat unphilosophically.&nbsp; No doubt suicide,
+under many circumstances, is a crime, a very heinous one.&nbsp; When
+the father of a family, for example, to escape from certain difficulties,
+commits suicide, he commits a crime; there are those around him who
+look to him for support, by the law of nature, and he has no right to
+withdraw himself from those who have a claim upon his exertions; he
+is a person who decamps with other people&rsquo;s goods as well as his
+own.&nbsp; Indeed, there can be no crime which is not founded upon the
+depriving others of something which belongs to them.&nbsp; A man is
+hanged for setting fire to his house in a crowded city, for he burns
+at the same time or damages those of other people; but if a man who
+has a house on a heath sets fire to it, he is not hanged, for he has
+not damaged or endangered any other individual&rsquo;s property, and
+the principle of revenge, upon which all punishment is founded, has
+not been aroused.&nbsp; Similar to such a case is that of the man who,
+without any family ties, commits suicide; for example, were I to do
+the thing this evening, who would have a right to call me to account?&nbsp;
+I am alone in the world, have no family to support, and, so far from
+damaging any one, should even benefit my heir by my accelerated death.&nbsp;
+However, I am no advocate for suicide under any circumstances; there
+is something undignified in it, unheroic, un-Germanic.&nbsp; But if
+you must commit suicide - and there is no knowing to what people may
+be brought - always contrive to do it as decorously as possible; the
+decencies, whether of life or of death, should never be lost sight of.&nbsp;
+I remember a female Quaker who committed suicide by cutting her throat,
+but she did it decorously and decently: kneeling down over a pail, so
+that not one drop fell upon the floor; thus exhibiting in her last act
+that nice sense of neatness for which Quakers are distinguished.&nbsp;
+I have always had a respect for that woman&rsquo;s memory.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And here, filling his pipe from the canister, and lighting it at the
+taper, he recommenced smoking calmly and sedately.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But is not suicide forbidden in the Bible?&rsquo; the youth demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, no; but what though it were! - the Bible is a respectable
+book, but I should hardly call it one whose philosophy is of the soundest.&nbsp;
+I have said that it is a respectable book; I mean respectable from its
+antiquity, and from containing, as Herder says, &ldquo;the earliest
+records of the human race,&rdquo; though those records are far from
+being dispassionately written, on which account they are of less value
+than they otherwise might have been.&nbsp; There is too much passion
+in the Bible, too much violence; now, to come to all truth, especially
+historic truth, requires cool dispassionate investigation, for which
+the Jews do not appear to have ever been famous.&nbsp; We are ourselves
+not famous for it, for we are a passionate people; the Germans are not
+- they are not a passionate people - a people celebrated for their oaths;
+we are.&nbsp; The Germans have many excellent historic writers, we .
+. . &rsquo;tis true we have Gibbon . . . You have been reading Gibbon
+- what do you think of him?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I think him a very wonderful writer.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He is a wonderful writer - one <i>sui generis</i> - uniting the
+perspicuity of the English - for we are perspicuous - with the cool
+dispassionate reasoning of the Germans.&nbsp; Gibbon sought after the
+truth, found it, and made it clear.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you think Gibbon a truthful writer?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, yes; who shall convict Gibbon of falsehood?&nbsp; Many people
+have endeavoured to convict Gibbon of falsehood; they have followed
+him in his researches, and have never found him once tripping.&nbsp;
+Oh, he is a wonderful writer! his power of condensation is admirable;
+the lore of the whole world is to be found in his pages.&nbsp; Sometimes
+in a single note he has given us the result of the study of years; or,
+to speak metaphorically, &ldquo;he has ransacked a thousand Gulistans,
+and has condensed all his fragrant booty into a single drop of otto.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But was not Gibbon an enemy to the Christian faith?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, no; he was rather an enemy to priestcraft, so am I; and
+when I say the philosophy of the Bible is in many respects unsound,
+I always wish to make an exception in favour of that part of it which
+contains the life and sayings of Jesus of Bethlehem, to which I must
+always concede my unqualified admiration - of Jesus, mind you; for with
+his followers and their dogmas I have nothing to do.&nbsp; Of all historic
+characters Jesus is the most beautiful and the most heroic.&nbsp; I
+have always been a friend to hero-worship, it is the only rational one,
+and has always been in use amongst civilised people - the worship of
+spirits is synonymous with barbarism - it is mere fetish; the savages
+of West Africa are all spirit-worshippers.&nbsp; But there is something
+philosophic in the worship of the heroes of the human race, and the
+true hero is the benefactor.&nbsp; Brahma, Jupiter, Bacchus, were all
+benefactors, and, therefore, entitled to the worship of their respective
+peoples.&nbsp; The Celts worshipped Hesus, who taught them to plough,
+a highly useful art.&nbsp; We, who have attained a much higher state
+of civilisation than the Celts ever did, worship Jesus, the first who
+endeavoured to teach men to behave decently and decorously under all
+circumstances; who was the foe of vengeance, in which there is something
+highly indecorous; who had first the courage to lift his voice against
+that violent dogma, &ldquo;an eye for an eye&rdquo;; who shouted conquer,
+but conquer with kindness; who said put up the sword, a violent unphilosophic
+weapon; and who finally died calmly and decorously in defence of his
+philosophy.&nbsp; He must be a savage who denies worship to the hero
+of Golgotha.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But he was something more than a hero; he was the Son of God,
+wasn&rsquo;t he?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The elderly individual made no immediate answer; but, after a few more
+whiffs from his pipe, exclaimed, &lsquo;Come, fill your glass!&nbsp;
+How do you advance with your translation of <i>Tell&rsquo;</i>?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is nearly finished; but I do not think I shall proceed with
+it; I begin to think the original somewhat dull.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There you are wrong; it is the masterpiece of Schiller, the first
+of German poets.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It may be so,&rsquo; said the youth.&nbsp; &lsquo;But, pray excuse
+me, I do not think very highly of German poetry.&nbsp; I have lately
+been reading Shakespeare; and, when I turn from him to the Germans -
+even the best of them - they appear mere pigmies.&nbsp; You will pardon
+the liberty I perhaps take in saying so.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I like that every one should have an opinion of his own,&rsquo;
+said the elderly individual; &lsquo;and, what is more, declare it.&nbsp;
+Nothing displeases me more than to see people assenting to everything
+that they hear said; I at once come to the conclusion that they are
+either hypocrites, or there is nothing in them.&nbsp; But, with respect
+to Shakespeare, whom I have not read for thirty years, is he not rather
+given to bombast, &ldquo;crackling bombast,&rdquo; as I think I have
+said in one of my essays?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I daresay he is,&rsquo; said the youth; &lsquo;but I can&rsquo;t
+help thinking him the greatest of all poets, not even excepting Homer.&nbsp;
+I would sooner have written that series of plays, founded on the fortunes
+of the House of Lancaster, than the <i>Iliad</i> itself.&nbsp; The events
+described are as lofty as those sung by Homer in his great work, and
+the characters brought upon the stage still more interesting.&nbsp;
+I think Hotspur as much of a hero as Hector, and young Henry more of
+a man than Achilles; and then there is the fat knight, the quintessence
+of fun, wit, and rascality.&nbsp; Falstaff is a creation beyond the
+genius even of Homer.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You almost tempt me to read Shakespeare again - but the Germans?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t admire the Germans,&rsquo; said the youth, somewhat
+excited.&nbsp; &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t admire them in any point of view.&nbsp;
+I have heard my father say that, though good sharpshooters, they can&rsquo;t
+be much depended upon as soldiers; and that old Sergeant Meredith told
+him that Minden would never have been won but for the two English regiments,
+who charged the French with fixed bayonets, and sent them to the right-about
+in double-quick time.&nbsp; With respect to poetry, setting Shakespeare
+and the English altogether aside, I think there is another Gothic nation,
+at least, entitled to dispute with them the palm.&nbsp; Indeed, to my
+mind, there is more genuine poetry contained in the old Danish book
+which I came so strangely by, than has been produced in Germany from
+the period of the Niebelungen lay to the present.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah, the Koempe Viser?&rsquo; said the elderly individual, breathing
+forth an immense volume of smoke, which he had been collecting during
+the declamation of his young companion.&nbsp; &lsquo;There are singular
+things in that book, I must confess; and I thank you for showing it
+to me, or rather your attempt at translation.&nbsp; I was struck with
+that ballad of Orm Ungarswayne, who goes by night to the grave-hill
+of his father to seek for counsel.&nbsp; And then, again, that strange
+melancholy Swayne Vonved, who roams about the world propounding people
+riddles; slaying those who cannot answer, and rewarding those who can
+with golden bracelets.&nbsp; Were it not for the violence, I should
+say that ballad has a philosophic tendency.&nbsp; I thank you for making
+me acquainted with the book, and I thank the Jew Mousha for making me
+acquainted with you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That Mousha was a strange customer,&rsquo; said the youth, collecting
+himself.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He <i>was</i> a strange customer,&rsquo; said the elder individual,
+breathing forth a gentle cloud.&nbsp; &lsquo;I love to exercise hospitality
+to wandering strangers, especially foreigners; and when he came to this
+place, pretending to teach German and Hebrew, I asked him to dinner.&nbsp;
+After the first dinner, he asked me to lend him five pounds; I <i>did</i>
+lend him five pounds.&nbsp; After the fifth dinner, he asked me to lend
+him fifty pounds; I did <i>not</i> lend him the fifty pounds.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He was as ignorant of German as of Hebrew,&rsquo; said the youth;
+&lsquo;on which account he was soon glad, I suppose, to transfer his
+pupil to some one else.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He told me,&rsquo; said the elder individual, &lsquo;that he
+intended to leave a town where he did not find sufficient encouragement;
+and, at the same time, expressed regret at being obliged to abandon
+a certain extraordinary pupil, for whom he had a particular regard.&nbsp;
+Now I, who have taught many people German from the love which I bear
+to it, and the desire which I feel that it should be generally diffused,
+instantly said that I should be happy to take his pupil off his hands,
+and afford him what instruction I could in German, for, as to Hebrew,
+I have never taken much interest in it.&nbsp; Such was the origin of
+our acquaintance.&nbsp; You have been an apt scholar.&nbsp; Of late,
+however, I have seen little of you - what is the reason?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The youth made no answer.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You think, probably, that you have learned all I can teach you?&nbsp;
+Well, perhaps you are right.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not so, not so,&rsquo; said the young man eagerly; &lsquo;before
+I knew you I knew nothing, and am still very ignorant; but of late my
+father&rsquo;s health has been very much broken, and he requires attention;
+his spirits also have become low, which, to tell you the truth, he attributes
+to my misconduct.&nbsp; He says that I have imbibed all kinds of strange
+notions and doctrines, which will, in all probability, prove my ruin,
+both here and hereafter; which - which - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah!&nbsp; I understand,&rsquo; said the elder, with another calm
+whiff.&nbsp; &lsquo;I have always had a kind of respect for your father,
+for there is something remarkable in his appearance, something heroic,
+and I would fain have cultivated his acquaintance; the feeling, however,
+has not been reciprocated.&nbsp; I met him, the other day, up the road,
+with his cane and dog, and saluted him; he did not return my salutation.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He has certain opinions of his own,&rsquo; said the youth, &lsquo;which
+are widely different from those which he has heard that you profess.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I respect a man for entertaining an opinion of his own,&rsquo;
+said the elderly individual.&nbsp; &lsquo;I hold certain opinions; but
+I should not respect an individual the more for adopting them.&nbsp;
+All I wish for is tolerance, which I myself endeavour to practise.&nbsp;
+I have always loved the truth, and sought it; if I have not found it,
+the greater my misfortune.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are you happy?&rsquo; said the young man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, no!&nbsp; And, between ourselves, it is that which induces
+me to doubt sometimes the truth of my opinions.&nbsp; My life, upon
+the whole, I consider a failure; on which account, I would not counsel
+you, or any one, to follow my example too closely.&nbsp; It is getting
+late, and you had better be going, especially as your father, you say,
+is anxious about you.&nbsp; But, as we may never meet again, I think
+there are three things which I may safely venture to press upon you.&nbsp;
+The first is, that the decencies and gentlenesses should never be lost
+sight of, as the practice of the decencies and gentlenesses is at all
+times compatible with independence of thought and action.&nbsp; The
+second thing which I would wish to impress upon you is, that there is
+always some eye upon us; and that it is impossible to keep anything
+we do from the world, as it will assuredly be divulged by somebody as
+soon as it is his interest to do so.&nbsp; The third thing which I would
+wish to press upon you - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the youth, eagerly bending forward.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is - &rsquo; and here the elderly individual laid down his pipe
+upon the table - &lsquo;that it will be as well to go on improving yourself
+in German!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXIV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The alehouse-keeper - Compassion for the rich - Old English gentleman
+- How is this? - Madeira - The Greek Parr - Twenty languages - Whiter&rsquo;s
+health - About the fight - A sporting gentleman - The flattened nose
+- Lend us that pightle - The surly nod.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Holloa, master! can you tell us where the fight is likely to
+be?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Such were the words shouted out to me by a short thick fellow, in brown
+top-boots, and bareheaded, who stood, with his hands in his pockets,
+at the door of a country alehouse as I was passing by.<br>
+<br>
+Now, as I knew nothing about the fight, and as the appearance of the
+man did not tempt me greatly to enter into conversation with him, I
+merely answered in the negative, and continued my way.<br>
+<br>
+It was a fine lovely morning in May, the sun shone bright above, and
+the birds were carolling in the hedgerows.&nbsp; I was wont to be cheerful
+at such seasons, for, from my earliest recollection, sunshine and the
+song of birds have been dear to me; yet, about that period, I was not
+cheerful, my mind was not at rest; I was debating within myself, and
+the debate was dreary and unsatisfactory enough.&nbsp; I sighed, and
+turning my eyes upward, I ejaculated, &lsquo;What is truth?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But suddenly, by a violent effort breaking away from my meditations,
+I hastened forward; one mile, two miles, three miles were speedily left
+behind; and now I came to a grove of birch and other trees, and opening
+a gate I passed up a kind of avenue, and soon arriving before a large
+brick house, of rather antique appearance, knocked at the door.<br>
+<br>
+In this house there lived a gentleman with whom I had business.&nbsp;
+He was said to be a genuine old English gentleman, and a man of considerable
+property; at this time, however, he wanted a thousand pounds, as gentlemen
+of considerable property every now and then do.&nbsp; I had brought
+him a thousand pounds in my pocket, for it is astonishing how many eager
+helpers the rich find, and with what compassion people look upon their
+distresses.&nbsp; He was said to have good wine in his cellar.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is your master at home?&rsquo; said I, to a servant who appeared
+at the door.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;His worship is at home, young man,&rsquo; said the servant, as
+he looked at my shoes, which bore evidence that I had come walking.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I beg your pardon, sir,&rsquo; he added, as he looked me in the
+face.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay, servants,&rsquo; thought I, as I followed the man into
+the house, &lsquo;always look people in the face when you open the door,
+and do so before you look at their shoes, or you may mistake the heir
+of a Prime Minister for a shopkeeper&rsquo;s son.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I found his worship a jolly, red-faced gentleman, of about fifty-five;
+he was dressed in a green coat, white corduroy breeches, and drab gaiters,
+and sat on an old-fashioned leather sofa, with two small, thoroughbred,
+black English terriers, one on each side of him.&nbsp; He had all the
+appearance of a genuine old English gentleman who kept good wine in
+his cellar.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I have brought you a thousand pounds&rsquo;;
+and I said this after the servant had retired, and the two terriers
+had ceased the barking which is natural to all such dogs at the sight
+of a stranger.<br>
+<br>
+And when the magistrate had received the money, and signed and returned
+a certain paper which I handed to him, he rubbed his hands, and looking
+very benignantly at me, exclaimed -<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And now, young gentleman, that our business is over, perhaps
+you can tell me where the fight is to take place?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am sorry, sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that I can&rsquo;t inform
+you, but everybody seems to be anxious about it&rsquo;; and then I told
+him what had occurred to me on the road with the alehouse-keeper.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I know him,&rsquo; said his worship; &lsquo;he&rsquo;s a tenant
+of mine, and a good fellow, somewhat too much in my debt though.&nbsp;
+But how is this, young gentleman, you look as if you had been walking;
+you did not come on foot?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, sir, I came on foot.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;On foot! why it is sixteen miles.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I shan&rsquo;t be tired when I have walked back.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You can&rsquo;t ride, I suppose?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Better than I can walk.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then why do you walk?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have frequently to make journeys connected with my profession;
+sometimes I walk, sometimes I ride, just as the whim takes me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Will you take a glass of wine?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s right; what shall it be?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Madeira!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The magistrate gave a violent slap on his knee; &lsquo;I like your taste,&rsquo;
+said he, &lsquo;I am fond of a glass of Madeira myself, and can give
+you such a one as you will not drink every day; sit down, young gentleman,
+you shall have a glass of Madeira, and the best I have.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon he got up, and, followed by his two terriers, walked slowly
+out of the room.<br>
+<br>
+I looked round the room, and, seeing nothing which promised me much
+amusement, I sat down, and fell again into my former train of thought.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;What is truth?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Here it is,&rsquo; said the magistrate, returning at the end
+of a quarter of an hour, followed by the servant with a tray; &lsquo;here&rsquo;s
+the true thing, or I am no judge, far less a justice.&nbsp; It has been
+thirty years in my cellar last Christmas.&nbsp; There,&rsquo; said he
+to the servant, &lsquo;put it down, and leave my young friend and me
+to ourselves.&nbsp; Now, what do you think of it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is very good,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did you ever taste better Madeira?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never before tasted Madeira.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you ask for a wine without knowing what it is?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I ask for it, sir, that I may know what it is.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, there is logic in that, as Parr would say; you have heard
+of Parr?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Old Parr?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, old Parr, but not that Parr; you mean the English, I the
+Greek Parr, as people call him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Perhaps not - rather too young for that, but were you of my age,
+you might have cause to know him, coming from where you do.&nbsp; He
+kept school there, I was his first scholar; he flogged Greek into me
+till I loved him - and he loved me: he came to see me last year, and
+sat in that chair; I honour Parr - he knows much, and is a sound man.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Does he know the truth?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Know the truth! he knows what&rsquo;s good, from an oyster to
+an ostrich - he&rsquo;s not only sound, but round.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Suppose we drink his health?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thank you, boy: here&rsquo;s Parr&rsquo;s health, and Whiter&rsquo;s.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is Whiter?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you know Whiter?&nbsp; I thought everybody knew Reverend
+Whiter the philologist, though I suppose you scarcely know what that
+means.&nbsp; A man fond of tongues and languages, quite out of your
+way - he understands some twenty; what do you say to that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is he a sound man?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, as to that, I scarcely know what to say: he has got queer
+notions in his head - wrote a book to prove that all words came originally
+from the earth - who knows?&nbsp; Words have roots, and roots live in
+the earth; but, upon the whole, I should not call him altogether a sound
+man, though he can talk Greek nearly as fast as Parr.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is he a round man?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, boy, rounder than Parr; I&rsquo;ll sing you a song, if you
+like, which will let you into his character:-<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Give me the haunch of a buck to eat, and to drink Madeira old,<br>
+And a gentle wife to rest with, and in my arms to fold,<br>
+An Arabic book to study, a Norfolk cob to ride,<br>
+And a house to live in shaded with trees, and near to a river side;<br>
+With such good things around me, and blessed with good health withal,<br>
+Though I should live for a hundred years, for death I would not call.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Here&rsquo;s to Whiter&rsquo;s health - so you know nothing about the
+fight?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, sir; the truth is, that of late I have been very much occupied
+with various matters, otherwise I should, perhaps, have been able to
+afford you some information - boxing is a noble art.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Can you box?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A little.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I tell you what, my boy; I honour you, and provided your education
+had been a little less limited, I should have been glad to see you here
+in company with Parr and Whiter; both can box.&nbsp; Boxing is, as you
+say, a noble art - a truly English art; may I never see the day when
+Englishmen shall feel ashamed of it, or blacklegs and blackguards bring
+it into disgrace.&nbsp; I am a magistrate, and, of course, cannot patronise
+the thing very openly, yet I sometimes see a prize fight: I saw the
+Game Chicken beat Gulley.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did you ever see Big Ben?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No; why do you ask?&rsquo;&nbsp; But here we heard a noise, like
+that of a gig driving up to the door, which was immediately succeeded
+by a violent knocking and ringing, and after a little time the servant
+who had admitted me made his appearance in the room.&nbsp; &lsquo;Sir,&rsquo;
+said he, with a certain eagerness of manner, &lsquo;here are two gentlemen
+waiting to speak to you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Gentlemen waiting to speak to me! who are they?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know, sir,&rsquo; said the servant; &lsquo;but
+they look like sporting gentlemen, and - and&rsquo; - here he hesitated;
+&lsquo;from a word or two they dropped, I almost think that they come
+about the fight.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;About the fight!&rsquo; said the magistrate.&nbsp; &lsquo;No;
+that can hardly be; however, you had better show them in.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Heavy steps were now heard ascending the stairs, and the servant ushered
+two men into the apartment.&nbsp; Again there was a barking, but louder
+than that which had been directed against myself, for here were two
+intruders; both of them were remarkable-looking men, but to the foremost
+of them the most particular notice may well be accorded: he was a man
+somewhat under thirty, and nearly six feet in height.&nbsp; He was dressed
+in a blue coat, white corduroy breeches, fastened below the knee with
+small golden buttons; on his legs he wore white lamb&rsquo;s-wool stockings,
+and on his feet shoes reaching to the ankles; round his neck was a handkerchief
+of the blue and bird&rsquo;s eye pattern; he wore neither whiskers nor
+moustaches, and appeared not to delight in hair, that of his head, which
+was of a light brown, being closely cropped; the forehead was rather
+high, but somewhat narrow; the face neither broad nor sharp, perhaps
+rather sharp than broad; the nose was almost delicate; the eyes were
+gray, with an expression in which there was sternness blended with something
+approaching to feline; his complexion was exceedingly pale, relieved,
+however, by certain pock-marks, which here and there studded his countenance;
+his form was athletic, but lean; his arms long.&nbsp; In the whole appearance
+of the man there was a blending of the bluff and the sharp.&nbsp; You
+might have supposed him a bruiser; his dress was that of one in all
+its minutiae; something was wanting, however, in his manner - the quietness
+of the professional man; he rather looked like one performing the part
+- well - very well - but still performing a part.&nbsp; His companion!
+- there, indeed, was the bruiser - no mistake about him: a tall massive
+man, with a broad countenance and a flattened nose; dressed like a bruiser,
+but not like a bruiser going into the ring; he wore white-topped boots,
+and a loose brown jockey coat.<br>
+<br>
+As the first advanced towards the table, behind which the magistrate
+sat, he doffed a white castor from his head, and made rather a genteel
+bow; looking at me, who sat somewhat on one side, he gave a kind of
+nod of recognition.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;May I request to know who you are, gentlemen?&rsquo; said the
+magistrate.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said the man in a deep, but not unpleasant voice,
+&lsquo;allow me to introduce to you my friend, Mr. -, the celebrated
+pugilist&rsquo;; and he motioned with his hand towards the massive man
+with the flattened nose.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And your own name, sir?&rsquo; said the magistrate.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My name is no matter,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;were I to mention
+it to you, it would awaken within you no feeling of interest.&nbsp;
+It is neither Kean nor Belcher, and I have as yet done nothing to distinguish
+myself like either of those individuals, or even like my friend here.&nbsp;
+However, a time may come - we are not yet buried; and whensoever my
+hour arrives, I hope I shall prove myself equal to my destiny, however
+high -<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Like bird that&rsquo;s bred amongst the Helicons.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+And here a smile half theatrical passed over his features.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In what can I oblige you, sir?&rsquo; said the magistrate.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, sir; the soul of wit is brevity; we want a place for an
+approaching combat between my friend here and a brave from town.&nbsp;
+Passing by your broad acres this fine morning we saw a pightle, which
+we deemed would suit.&nbsp; Lend us that pightle, and receive our thanks;
+&lsquo;twould be a favour, though not much to grant: we neither ask
+for Stonehenge nor for Tempe.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+My friend looked somewhat perplexed; after a moment, however, he said,
+with a firm but gentlemanly air, &lsquo;Sir, I am sorry that I cannot
+comply with your request.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not comply!&rsquo; said the man, his brow becoming dark as midnight;
+and with a hoarse and savage tone, &lsquo;Not comply! why not?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is impossible, sir; utterly impossible!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why so?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am not compelled to give my reasons to you, sir, nor to any
+man.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Let me beg of you to alter your decision,&rsquo; said the man,
+in a tone of profound respect.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Utterly impossible, sir; I am a magistrate.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Magistrate! then fare ye well, for a green-coated buffer and
+a Harmanbeck.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir!&rsquo; said the magistrate, springing up with a face fiery
+with wrath.<br>
+<br>
+But, with a surly nod to me, the man left the apartment; and in a moment
+more the heavy footsteps of himself and his companion were heard descending
+the staircase.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is that man?&rsquo; said my friend, turning towards me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A sporting gentleman, well known in the place from which I come.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He appeared to know you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have occasionally put on the gloves with him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is his name?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Doubts - Wise king of Jerusalem - Let me see - A thousand years - Nothing
+new - The crowd - The hymn - Faith - Charles Wesley - There he stood
+- Farewell, brother - Death - Sun, moon, and stars - Wind on the heath.<br>
+<br>
+There was one question which I was continually asking myself at this
+period, and which has more than once met the eyes of the reader who
+has followed me through the last chapter: &lsquo;What is truth?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+I had involved myself imperceptibly in a dreary labyrinth of doubt,
+and, whichever way I turned, no reasonable prospect of extricating myself
+appeared.&nbsp; The means by which I had brought myself into this situation
+may be very briefly told; I had inquired into many matters, in order
+that I might become wise, and I had read and pondered over the words
+of the wise, so called, till I had made myself master of the sum of
+human wisdom; namely, that everything is enigmatical and that man is
+an enigma to himself; thence the cry of &lsquo;What is truth?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+I had ceased to believe in the truth of that in which I had hitherto
+trusted, and yet could find nothing in which I could put any fixed or
+deliberate belief - I was, indeed, in a labyrinth!&nbsp; In what did
+I not doubt?&nbsp; With respect to crime and virtue I was in doubt;
+I doubted that the one was blamable and the other praiseworthy.&nbsp;
+Are not all things subjected to the law of necessity?&nbsp; Assuredly
+time and chance govern all things: Yet how can this be? alas!<br>
+<br>
+Then there was myself; for what was I born?&nbsp; Are not all things
+born to be forgotten?&nbsp; That&rsquo;s incomprehensible: yet is it
+not so?&nbsp; Those butterflies fall and are forgotten.&nbsp; In what
+is man better than a butterfly?&nbsp; All then is born to be forgotten.&nbsp;
+Ah! that was a pang indeed; &rsquo;tis at such a moment that a man wishes
+to die.&nbsp; The wise king of Jerusalem, who sat in his shady arbours
+beside his sunny fish-pools, saying so many fine things, wished to die,
+when he saw that not only all was vanity, but that he himself was vanity.&nbsp;
+Will a time come when all will be forgotten that now is beneath the
+sun?&nbsp; If so, of what profit is life?<br>
+<br>
+In truth it was a sore vexation of spirit to me when I saw, as the wise
+man saw of old, that whatever I could hope to perform must necessarily
+be of very temporary duration; and if so, why do it?&nbsp; I said to
+myself, whatever name I can acquire, will it endure for eternity? scarcely
+so.&nbsp; A thousand years?&nbsp; Let me see! what have I done already?&nbsp;
+I have learnt Welsh, and have translated the songs of Ab Gwilym, some
+ten thousand lines, into English rhyme; I have also learnt Danish, and
+have rendered the old book of ballads cast by the tempest upon the beach
+into corresponding English metre.&nbsp; Good! have I done enough already
+to secure myself a reputation of a thousand years?&nbsp; No, no! certainly
+not; I have not the slightest ground for hoping that my translations
+from the Welsh and Danish will be read at the end of a thousand years.&nbsp;
+Well, but I am only eighteen, and I have not stated all that I have
+done; I have learnt many other tongues, and have acquired some knowledge
+even of Hebrew and Arabic.&nbsp; Should I go on in this way till I am
+forty, I must then be very learned; and perhaps, among other things,
+may have translated the Talmud, and some of the great works of the Arabians.&nbsp;
+Pooh! all this is mere learning and translation, and such will never
+secure immortality.&nbsp; Translation is at best an echo, and it must
+be a wonderful echo to be heard after the lapse of a thousand years.&nbsp;
+No! all I have already done, and all I may yet do in the same way, I
+may reckon as nothing - mere pastime; something else must be done.&nbsp;
+I must either write some grand original work, or conquer an empire;
+the one just as easy as the other.&nbsp; But am I competent to do either?&nbsp;
+Yes, I think I am, under favourable circumstances.&nbsp; Yes, I think
+I may promise myself a reputation of a thousand years, if I do but give
+myself the necessary trouble.&nbsp; Well! but what&rsquo;s a thousand
+years after all, or twice a thousand years?&nbsp; Woe is me!&nbsp; I
+may just as well sit still.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Would I had never been born!&rsquo; I said to myself; and a thought
+would occasionally intrude: But was I ever born?&nbsp; Is not all that
+I see a lie - a deceitful phantom?&nbsp; Is there a world, and earth,
+and sky?&nbsp; Berkeley&rsquo;s doctrine - Spinoza&rsquo;s doctrine!&nbsp;
+Dear reader, I had at that time never read either Berkeley or Spinoza.&nbsp;
+I have still never read them; who are they, men of yesterday?&nbsp;
+&lsquo;All is a lie - all a deceitful phantom,&rsquo; are old cries;
+they come naturally from the mouths of those who, casting aside that
+choicest shield against madness, simplicity, would fain be wise as God,
+and can only know that they are naked.&nbsp; This doubting in the &lsquo;universal
+all&rsquo; is almost coeval with the human race: wisdom, so called,
+was early sought after.&nbsp; All is a lie - a deceitful phantom - was
+said when the world was yet young; its surface, save a scanty portion,
+yet untrodden by human foot, and when the great tortoise yet crawled
+about.&nbsp; All is a lie, was the doctrine of Buddh; and Buddh lived
+thirty centuries before the wise king of Jerusalem, who sat in his arbours,
+beside his sunny fish-pools, saying many fine things, and, amongst others,
+&lsquo;There is nothing new under the sun!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+One day, whilst I bent my way to the heath of which I have spoken on
+a former occasion, at the foot of the hills which formed it I came to
+a place where a wagon was standing, but without horses, the shafts resting
+on the ground; there was a crowd about it, which extended half-way up
+the side of the neighbouring hill.&nbsp; The wagon was occupied by some
+half a dozen men; some sitting, others standing - they were dressed
+in sober-coloured habiliments of black or brown, cut in a plain and
+rather uncouth fashion, and partially white with dust; their hair was
+short, and seemed to have been smoothed down by the application of the
+hand; all were bareheaded - sitting or standing, all were bareheaded.&nbsp;
+One of them, a tall man, was speaking as I arrived; ere, however, I
+could distinguish what he was saying, he left off, and then there was
+a cry for a hymn &lsquo;to the glory of God&rsquo; - that was the word.&nbsp;
+It was a strange-sounding hymn, as well it might be, for everybody joined
+in it: there were voices of all kinds, of men, of women, and of children
+- of those who could sing and of those who could not - a thousand voices
+all joined, and all joined heartily; no voice of all the multitude was
+silent save mine.&nbsp; The crowd consisted entirely of the lower classes,
+labourers and mechanics, and their wives and children - dusty people,
+unwashed people, people of no account whatever, and yet they did not
+look a mob.&nbsp; And when that hymn was over - and here let me observe
+that, strange as it sounded, I have recalled that hymn to mind, and
+it has seemed to tingle in my ears on occasions when all that pomp and
+art could do to enhance religious solemnity was being done - in the
+Sistine Chapel, what time the papal band was in full play, and the choicest
+choristers of Italy poured forth their mellowest tones in presence of
+Batuschca and his cardinals - on the ice of the Neva, what time the
+long train of stately priests, with their noble beards and their flowing
+robes of crimson and gold, with their ebony and ivory staves, stalked
+along, chanting their Sclavonian litanies in advance of the mighty Emperor
+of the North and his Priberjensky guard of giants, towards the orifice
+through which the river, running below in its swiftness, is to receive
+the baptismal lymph: - when the hymn was over, another man in the wagon
+proceeded to address the people; he was a much younger man than the
+last speaker; somewhat square built and about the middle height; his
+face was rather broad, but expressive of much intelligence, and with
+a peculiar calm and serious look; the accent in which he spoke indicated
+that he was not of these parts, but from some distant district.&nbsp;
+The subject of his address was faith, and how it could remove mountains.&nbsp;
+It was a plain address, without any attempt at ornament, and delivered
+in a tone which was neither loud nor vehement.&nbsp; The speaker was
+evidently not a practised one - once or twice he hesitated as if for
+words to express his meaning, but still he held on, talking of faith,
+and how it could remove mountains: &lsquo;It is the only thing we want,
+brethren, in this world; if we have that, we are indeed rich, as it
+will enable us to do our duty under all circumstances, and to bear our
+lot, however hard it may be - and the lot of all mankind is hard - the
+lot of the poor is hard, brethren - and who knows more of the poor than
+I? - a poor man myself, and the son of a poor man: but are the rich
+better off? not so, brethren, for God is just.&nbsp; The rich have their
+trials too: I am not rich myself, but I have seen the rich with careworn
+countenances; I have also seen them in madhouses; from which you may
+learn, brethren, that the lot of all mankind is hard; that is, till
+we lay hold of faith, which makes us comfortable under all circumstances;
+whether we ride in gilded chariots or walk barefooted in quest of bread;
+whether we be ignorant, whether we be wise - for riches and poverty,
+ignorance and wisdom, brethren, each brings with it its peculiar temptations.&nbsp;
+Well, under all these troubles, the thing which I would recommend you
+to seek is one and the same - faith; faith in our Lord Jesus Christ,
+who made us and allotted to each his station.&nbsp; Each has something
+to do, brethren.&nbsp; Do it, therefore, but always in faith; without
+faith we shall find ourselves sometimes at fault; but with faith never
+- for faith can remove the difficulty.&nbsp; It will teach us to love
+life, brethren, when life is becoming bitter, and to prize the blessings
+around us; for as every man has his cares, brethren, so has each man
+his blessings.&nbsp; It will likewise teach us not to love life over
+much, seeing that we must one day part with it.&nbsp; It will teach
+us to face death with resignation, and will preserve us from sinking
+amidst the swelling of the river Jordan.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And when he had concluded his address, he said, &lsquo;Let us sing a
+hymn, one composed by Master Charles Wesley - he was my countryman,
+brethren.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Jesus, I cast my soul on Thee,<br>
+Mighty and merciful to save;<br>
+Thou shalt to death go down with me,<br>
+And lay me gently in the grave.<br>
+This body then shall rest in hope,<br>
+This body which the worms destroy;<br>
+For Thou shalt surely raise me up<br>
+To glorious life and endless joy.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Farewell, preacher with the plain coat and the calm serious look!&nbsp;
+I saw thee once again, and that was lately - only the other day.&nbsp;
+It was near a fishing hamlet, by the sea-side, that I saw the preacher
+again.&nbsp; He stood on the top of a steep monticle, used by pilots
+as a look-out for vessels approaching that coast, a dangerous one, abounding
+in rocks and quick-sands.&nbsp; There he stood on the monticle, preaching
+to weather-worn fishermen and mariners gathered below upon the sand.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Who is he?&rsquo; said I to an old fisherman who stood beside
+me with a book of hymns in his hand; but the old man put his hand to
+his lips, and that was the only answer I received.&nbsp; Not a sound
+was heard but the voice of the preacher and the roaring of the waves;
+but the voice was heard loud above the roaring of the sea, for the preacher
+now spoke with power, and his voice was not that of one who hesitates.&nbsp;
+There he stood - no longer a young man, for his black locks were become
+gray, even like my own; but there was the intelligent face, and the
+calm serious look which had struck me of yore.&nbsp; There stood the
+preacher, one of those men - and, thank God, their number is not few
+- who, animated by the spirit of Christ, amidst much poverty, and, alas!
+much contempt, persist in carrying the light of the Gospel amidst the
+dark parishes of what, but for their instrumentality, would scarcely
+be Christian England.&nbsp; I would have waited till he had concluded,
+in order that I might speak to him, and endeavour to bring back the
+ancient scene to his recollection, but suddenly a man came hurrying
+towards the monticle, mounted on a speedy horse, and holding by the
+bridle one yet more speedy, and he whispered to me, &lsquo;Why loiterest
+thou here? - knowest thou not all that is to be done before midnight?&rsquo;
+and he flung me the bridle; and I mounted on the horse of great speed,
+and I followed the other, who had already galloped off.&nbsp; And as
+I departed, I waved my hand to him on the monticle, and I shouted, &lsquo;Farewell,
+brother! the seed came up at last, after a long period!&rsquo; and then
+I gave the speedy horse his way, and leaning over the shoulder of the
+galloping horse, I said, &lsquo;Would that my life had been like his
+- even like that man&rsquo;s!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I now wandered along the heath, till I came to a place where, beside
+a thick furze, sat a man, his eyes fixed intently on the red ball of
+the setting sun.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s not you, Jasper?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Indeed, brother!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;ve not seen you for years.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How should you, brother?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What brings you here?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The fight, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where are the tents?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;On the old spot, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Any news since we parted?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Two deaths, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who are dead, Jasper?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Father and mother, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where did they die?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where they were sent, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And Mrs. Herne?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;She&rsquo;s alive, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where is she now?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In Yorkshire, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is your opinion of death, Mr. Petulengro?&rsquo; said I,
+as I sat down beside him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My opinion of death, brother, is much the same as that in the
+old song of Pharaoh, which I have heard my grandam sing -<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Cana marel o manus chivios and&eacute; puv,<br>
+Ta rovel pa leste o chavo ta romi.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+When a man dies, he is cast into the earth, and his wife and child sorrow
+over him.&nbsp; If he has neither wife nor child, then his father and
+mother, I suppose; and if he is quite alone in the world, why, then,
+he is cast into the earth, and there is an end of the matter.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And do you think that is the end of a man?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There&rsquo;s an end of him, brother, more&rsquo;s the pity.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why do you say so?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Life is sweet, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you think so?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Think so! - There&rsquo;s night and day, brother, both sweet
+things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there&rsquo;s
+likewise a wind on the heath.&nbsp; Life is very sweet, brother; who
+would wish to die?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I would wish to die - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You talk like a gorgio - which is the same as talking like a
+fool - were you a Rommany Chal you would talk wiser.&nbsp; Wish to die,
+indeed! - A Rommany Chal would wish to live for ever!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In sickness, Jasper?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There&rsquo;s the sun and stars, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In blindness, Jasper?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There&rsquo;s the wind on the heath, brother; if I could only
+feel that, I would gladly live for ever.&nbsp; Dosta, we&rsquo;ll now
+go to the tents and put on the gloves; and I&rsquo;ll try to make you
+feel what a sweet thing it is to be alive, brother!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXVI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The flower of the grass - Days of pugilism - The rendezvous - Jews -
+Bruisers of England - Winter, spring - Well-earned bays - The fight
+- Huge black cloud - Frame of adamant - The storm - Dukkeripens - The
+barouche - The rain-gushes.<br>
+<br>
+How for everything there is a time and a season, and then how does the
+glory of a thing pass from it, even like the flower of the grass.&nbsp;
+This is a truism, but it is one of those which are continually forcing
+themselves upon the mind.&nbsp; Many years have not passed over my head,
+yet, during those which I can recall to remembrance, how many things
+have I seen flourish, pass away, and become forgotten, except by myself,
+who, in spite of all my endeavours, never can forget anything.&nbsp;
+I have known the time when a pugilistic encounter between two noted
+champions was almost considered in the light of a national affair; when
+tens of thousands of individuals, high and low, meditated and brooded
+upon it, the first thing in the morning and the last at night, until
+the great event was decided.&nbsp; But the time is past, and many people
+will say, thank God that it is; all I have to say is, that the French
+still live on the other side of the water, and are still casting their
+eyes hitherward - and that in the days of pugilism it was no vain blast
+to say that one Englishman was a match for two of t&rsquo;other race;
+at present it would be a vain boast to say so, for these are not the
+days of pugilism.<br>
+<br>
+But those to which the course of my narrative has carried me were the
+days of pugilism; it was then at its height, and consequently near its
+decline, for corruption had crept into the ring; and how many things,
+states and sects among the rest, owe their decline to this cause!&nbsp;
+But what a bold and vigorous aspect pugilism wore at that time! and
+the great battle was just then coming off: the day had been decided
+upon, and the spot - a convenient distance from the old town; and to
+the old town were now flocking the bruisers of England, men of tremendous
+renown.&nbsp; Let no one sneer at the bruisers of England - what were
+the gladiators of Rome, or the bull-fighters of Spain, in its palmiest
+days, compared to England&rsquo;s bruisers?&nbsp; Pity that ever corruption
+should have crept in amongst them - but of that I wish not to talk;
+let us still hope that a spark of the old religion, of which they were
+the priests, still lingers in the breasts of Englishmen.&nbsp; There
+they come, the bruisers, from far London, or from wherever else they
+might chance to be at the time, to the great rendezvous in the old city;
+some came one way, some another: some of tip-top reputation came with
+peers in their chariots, for glory and fame are such fair things that
+even peers are proud to have those invested therewith by their sides;
+others came in their own gigs, driving their own bits of blood, and
+I heard one say: &lsquo;I have driven through at a heat the whole hundred
+and eleven miles, and only stopped to bait twice.&rsquo;&nbsp; Oh, the
+blood-horses of old England! but they, too, have had their day - for
+everything beneath the sun there is a season and a time.&nbsp; But the
+greater number come just as they can contrive; on the tops of coaches,
+for example; and amongst these there are fellows with dark sallow faces
+and sharp shining eyes; and it is these that have planted rottenness
+in the core of pugilism, for they are Jews, and, true to their kind,
+have only base lucre in view.<br>
+<br>
+It was fierce old Cobbett, I think, who first said that the Jews first
+introduced bad faith amongst pugilists.&nbsp; He did not always speak
+the truth, but at any rate he spoke it when he made that observation.&nbsp;
+Strange people the Jews - endowed with every gift but one, and that
+the highest, genius divine - genius which can alone make of men demigods,
+and elevate them above earth and what is earthy and grovelling; without
+which a clever nation - and, who more clever than the Jews? - may have
+Rambams in plenty, but never a Fielding nor a Shakespeare.&nbsp; A Rothschild
+and a Mendoza, yes - but never a Kean nor a Belcher.<br>
+<br>
+So the bruisers of England are come to be present at the grand fight
+speedily coming off; there they are met in the precincts of the old
+town, near the field of the chapel, planted with tender saplings at
+the restoration of sporting Charles, which are now become venerable
+elms, as high as many a steeple; there they are met at a fitting rendezvous,
+where a retired coachman, with one leg, keeps an hotel and a bowling-green.&nbsp;
+I think I now see them upon the bowling-green, the men of renown, amidst
+hundreds of people with no renown at all, who gaze upon them with timid
+wonder.&nbsp; Fame, after all, is a glorious thing, though it lasts
+only for a day.&nbsp; There&rsquo;s Cribb, the champion of England,
+and perhaps the best man in England; there he is, with his huge massive
+figure, and face wonderfully like that of a lion.&nbsp; There is Belcher,
+the younger, not the mighty one, who is gone to his place, but the Teucer
+Belcher, the most scientific pugilist that ever entered a ring, only
+wanting strength to be, I won&rsquo;t say what.&nbsp; He appears to
+walk before me now, as he did that evening, with his white hat, white
+greatcoat, thin genteel figure, springy step, and keen, determined eye.&nbsp;
+Crosses him, what a contrast! grim, savage Shelton, who has a civil
+word for nobody, and a hard blow for anybody - hard! one blow, given
+with the proper play of his athletic arm, will unsense a giant.&nbsp;
+Yonder individual, who strolls about with his hands behind him, supporting
+his brown coat lappets, under-sized, and who looks anything but what
+he is, is the king of the light weights, so called - Randall! the terrible
+Randall, who has Irish blood in his veins; not the better for that,
+nor the worse; and not far from him is his last antagonist, Ned Turner,
+who, though beaten by him, still thinks himself as good a man, in which
+he is, perhaps, right, for it was a near thing; and &lsquo;a better
+shentleman,&rsquo; in which he is quite right, for he is a Welshman.&nbsp;
+But how shall I name them all? they were there by dozens, and all tremendous
+in their way.&nbsp; There was Bulldog Hudson, and fearless Scroggins,
+who beat the conqueror of Sam the Jew.&nbsp; There was Black Richmond
+- no, he was not there, but I knew him well; he was the most dangerous
+of blacks, even with a broken thigh.&nbsp; There was Purcell, who could
+never conquer till all seemed over with him.&nbsp; There was - what!
+shall I name thee last? ay, why not?&nbsp; I believe that thou art the
+last of all that strong family still above the sod, where mayst thou
+long continue - true piece of English stuff, Tom of Bedford - sharp
+as Winter, kind as Spring.<br>
+<br>
+Hail to thee, Tom of Bedford, or by whatever name it may please thee
+to be called, Spring or Winter.&nbsp; Hail to thee, six-foot Englishman
+of the brown eye, worthy to have carried a six-foot bow at Flodden,
+where England&rsquo;s yeomen triumphed over Scotland&rsquo;s king, his
+clans and chivalry.&nbsp; Hail to thee, last of England&rsquo;s bruisers,
+after all the many victories which thou hast achieved - true English
+victories, unbought by yellow gold; need I recount them? nay, nay! they
+are already well known to fame - sufficient to say that Bristol&rsquo;s
+Bull and Ireland&rsquo;s Champion were vanquished by thee, and one mightier
+still, gold itself, thou didst overcome; for gold itself strove in vain
+to deaden the power of thy arm; and thus thou didst proceed till men
+left off challenging thee, the unvanquishable, the incorruptible.&nbsp;
+&rsquo;Tis a treat to see thee, Tom of Bedford, in thy &lsquo;public&rsquo;
+in Holborn way, whither thou hast retired with thy well-earned bays.&nbsp;
+&rsquo;Tis Friday night, and nine by Holborn clock.&nbsp; There sits
+the yeoman at the end of his long room, surrounded by his friends; glasses
+are filled, and a song is the cry, and a song is sung well suited to
+the place; it finds an echo in every heart - fists are clenched, arms
+are waved, and the portraits of the mighty fighting men of yore, Broughton,
+and Slack, and Ben, which adorn the walls, appear to smile grim approbation,
+whilst many a manly voice joins in the bold chorus:<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Here&rsquo;s a health to old honest John Bull,<br>
+When he&rsquo;s gone we shan&rsquo;t find such another,<br>
+And with hearts and with glasses brim full,<br>
+We will drink to old England, his mother.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+But the fight! with respect to the fight, what shall I say?&nbsp; Little
+can be said about it - it was soon over; some said that the brave from
+town, who was reputed the best man of the two, and whose form was a
+perfect model of athletic beauty, allowed himself, for lucre vile, to
+be vanquished by the massive champion with the flattened nose.&nbsp;
+One thing is certain, that the former was suddenly seen to sink to the
+earth before a blow of by no means extraordinary power.&nbsp; Time,
+time! was called; but there he lay upon the ground apparently senseless,
+and from thence he did not lift his head till several seconds after
+the umpires had declared his adversary victor.<br>
+<br>
+There were shouts; indeed there&rsquo;s never a lack of shouts to celebrate
+a victory, however acquired; but there was also much grinding of teeth,
+especially amongst the fighting men from town.&nbsp; &lsquo;Tom has
+sold us,&rsquo; said they, &lsquo;sold us to the yokels; who would have
+thought it?&rsquo;&nbsp; Then there was fresh grinding of teeth, and
+scowling brows were turned to the heaven; but what is this? is it possible,
+does the heaven scowl too? why, only a quarter of an hour ago . . .
+but what may not happen in a quarter of an hour?&nbsp; For many weeks
+the weather had been of the most glorious description, the eventful
+day, too, had dawned gloriously, and so it had continued till some two
+hours after noon; the fight was then over; and about that time I looked
+up - what a glorious sky of deep blue, and what a big fierce sun swimming
+high above in the midst of that blue; not a cloud - there had not been
+one for weeks - not a cloud to be seen, only in the far west, just on
+the horizon, something like the extremity of a black wing; that was
+only a quarter of an hour ago, and now the whole northern side of the
+heaven is occupied by a huge black cloud, and the sun is only occasionally
+seen amidst masses of driving vapour; what a change! but another fight
+is at hand, and the pugilists are clearing the outer ring; - how their
+huge whips come crashing upon the heads of the yokels; blood flows,
+more blood than in the fight; those blows are given with right good-will,
+those are not sham blows, whether of whip or fist; it is with fist that
+grim Shelton strikes down the big yokel; he is always dangerous, grim
+Shelton, but now particularly so, for he has lost ten pounds betted
+on the brave who sold himself to the yokels; but the outer ring is cleared:
+and now the second fight commences; it is between two champions of less
+renown than the others, but is perhaps not the worse on that account.&nbsp;
+A tall thin boy is fighting in the ring with a man somewhat under the
+middle size, with a frame of adamant; that&rsquo;s a gallant boy! he&rsquo;s
+a yokel, but he comes from Brummagem, and he does credit to his extraction;
+but his adversary has a frame of adamant: in what a strange light they
+fight, but who can wonder, on looking at that frightful cloud usurping
+now one-half of heaven, and at the sun struggling with sulphurous vapour;
+the face of the boy, which is turned towards me, looks horrible in that
+light, but he is a brave boy, he strikes his foe on the forehead, and
+the report of the blow is like the sound of a hammer against a rock;
+but there is a rush and a roar overhead, a wild commotion, the tempest
+is beginning to break loose; there&rsquo;s wind and dust, a crash, rain
+and hail; is it possible to fight amidst such a commotion? yes! the
+fight goes on; again the boy strikes the man full on the brow, but it
+is of no use striking that man, his frame is of adamant.&nbsp; &lsquo;Boy,
+thy strength is beginning to give way, and thou art becoming confused&rsquo;;
+the man now goes to work, amidst rain and hail.&nbsp; &lsquo;Boy, thou
+wilt not hold out ten minutes longer against rain, hail, and the blows
+of such an antagonist.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And now the storm was at its height; the black thunder-cloud had broken
+into many, which assumed the wildest shapes and the strangest colours,
+some of them unspeakably glorious; the rain poured in a deluge, and
+more than one waterspout was seen at no great distance: an immense rabble
+is hurrying in one direction; a multitude of men of all ranks, peers
+and yokels, prize-fighters and Jews, and the last came to plunder, and
+are now plundering amidst that wild confusion of hail and rain, men
+and horses, carts and carriages.&nbsp; But all hurry in one direction,
+through mud and mire; there&rsquo;s a town only three miles distant,
+which is soon reached, and soon filled, it will not contain one-third
+of that mighty rabble; but there&rsquo;s another town farther on - the
+good old city is farther on, only twelve miles; what&rsquo;s that! who
+will stay here? onward to the old town.<br>
+<br>
+Hurry-skurry, a mixed multitude of men and horses, carts and carriages,
+all in the direction of the old town; and, in the midst of all that
+mad throng, at a moment when the rain-gushes were coming down with particular
+fury, and the artillery of the sky was pealing as I had never heard
+it peal before, I felt some one seize me by the arm - I turned round,
+and beheld Mr. Petulengro.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I can&rsquo;t hear you, Mr. Petulengro,&rsquo; said I; for the
+thunder drowned the words which he appeared to be uttering.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dearginni,&rsquo; I heard Mr. Petulengro say, &lsquo;it thundreth.&nbsp;
+I was asking, brother, whether you believe in dukkeripens?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not, Mr. Petulengro; but this is strange weather to be asking
+me whether I believe in fortunes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Grondinni,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro, &lsquo;it haileth.&nbsp;
+I believe in dukkeripens, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And who has more right,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;seeing that you
+live by them?&nbsp; But this tempest is truly horrible.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dearginni, grondinni ta villaminni!&nbsp; It thundreth, it haileth,
+and also flameth,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro.&nbsp; &lsquo;Look up there,
+brother!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I looked up.&nbsp; Connected with this tempest there was one feature
+to which I have already alluded - the wonderful colours of the clouds.&nbsp;
+Some were of vivid green; others of the brightest orange; others as
+black as pitch.&nbsp; The gypsy&rsquo;s finger was pointed to a particular
+part of the sky.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you see there, brother?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A strange kind of cloud.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What does it look like, brother?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Something like a stream of blood.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That cloud foreshoweth a bloody dukkeripen.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A bloody fortune!&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;And whom may it
+betide?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who knows!&rsquo; said the gypsy.<br>
+<br>
+Down the way, dashing and splashing, and scattering man, horse, and
+cart to the left and right, came an open barouche, drawn by four smoking
+steeds, with postilions in scarlet jackets and leather skull-caps.&nbsp;
+Two forms were conspicuous in it; that of the successful bruiser, and
+of his friend and backer, the sporting gentleman of my acquaintance.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;His!&rsquo; said the gypsy, pointing to the latter, whose stern
+features wore a smile of triumph, as, probably recognising me in the
+crowd, he nodded in the direction of where I stood, as the barouche
+hurried by.<br>
+<br>
+There went the barouche, dashing through the rain-gushes, and in it
+one whose boast it was that he was equal to &lsquo;either fortune.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Many have heard of that man - many may be desirous of knowing yet more
+of him.&nbsp; I have nothing to do with that man&rsquo;s after life
+- he fulfilled his dukkeripen.&nbsp; &lsquo;A bad, violent man!&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Softly, friend; when thou wouldst speak harshly of the dead, remember
+that thou hast not yet fulfilled thy own dukkeripen!<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXVII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+My father - Premature decay - The easy-chair - A few questions - So
+you told me - A difficult language - They can it Haik - Misused opportunities
+- Saul - Want of candour - Don&rsquo;t weep - Heaven forgive me - Dated
+from Paris - I wish he were here - A father&rsquo;s reminiscences -
+Farewell to vanities.<br>
+<br>
+My father, as I have already informed the reader, had been endowed by
+nature with great corporeal strength; indeed, I have been assured that,
+at the period of his prime, his figure had denoted the possession of
+almost Herculean powers.&nbsp; The strongest forms, however, do not
+always endure the longest, the very excess of the noble and generous
+juices which they contain being the cause of their premature decay.&nbsp;
+But, be that as it may, the health of my father, some few years after
+his retirement from the service to the quiet of domestic life, underwent
+a considerable change; his constitution appeared to be breaking up;
+and he was subject to severe attacks from various disorders, with which,
+till then, he had been utterly unacquainted.&nbsp; He was, however,
+wont to rally, more or less, after his illnesses, and might still occasionally
+be seen taking his walk, with his cane in his hand, and accompanied
+by his dog, who sympathised entirely with him, pining as he pined, improving
+as he improved, and never leaving the house save in his company; and
+in this manner matters went on for a considerable time, no very great
+apprehension with respect to my father&rsquo;s state being raised either
+in my mother&rsquo;s breast or my own.&nbsp; But, about six months after
+the period at which I have arrived in my last chapter, it came to pass
+that my father experienced a severer attack than on any previous occasion.<br>
+<br>
+He had the best medical advice; but it was easy to see, from the looks
+of his doctors, that they entertained but slight hopes of his recovery.&nbsp;
+His sufferings were great, yet he invariably bore them with unshaken
+fortitude.&nbsp; There was one thing remarkable connected with his illness;
+notwithstanding its severity, it never confined him to his bed.&nbsp;
+He was wont to sit in his little parlour, in his easy-chair, dressed
+in a faded regimental coat, his dog at his feet, who would occasionally
+lift his head from the hearth-rug on which he lay, and look his master
+wistfully in the face.&nbsp; And thus my father spent the greater part
+of his time, sometimes in prayer, sometimes in meditation, and sometimes
+in reading the Scriptures.&nbsp; I frequently sat with him, though,
+as I entertained a great awe for my father, I used to feel rather ill
+at ease, when, as sometimes happened, I found myself alone with him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish to ask you a few questions,&rsquo; said he to me one day,
+after my mother had left the room.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will answer anything you may please to ask me, my dear father.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What have you been about lately?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have been occupied as usual, attending at the office at the
+appointed hours.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what do you there?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Whatever I am ordered.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And nothing else?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh yes! sometimes I read a book.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Connected with your profession?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not always; I have been lately reading Armenian - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The language of a people whose country is a region on the other
+side of Asia Minor.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A region abounding with mountains.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Amongst which is Mount Ararat.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Upon which, as the Bible informs us, the ark rested.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is the language of the people of those regions - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So you told me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And I have been reading the Bible in their language.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Or rather, I should say, in the ancient language of these people;
+from which I am told the modem Armenian differs considerably.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As much as the Italian from the Latin.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So I have been reading the Bible in ancient Armenian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You told me so before.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I found it a highly difficult language.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Differing widely from the languages in general with which I am
+acquainted.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Exhibiting, however, some features in common with them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And sometimes agreeing remarkably in words with a certain strange
+wild speech with which I became acquainted - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Irish?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, father, not Irish - with which I became acquainted by the
+greatest chance in the world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But of which I need say nothing farther at present, and which
+I should not have mentioned but for that fact.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Which I consider remarkable.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Armenian is copious.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;With an alphabet of thirty-nine letters, but it is harsh and
+guttural.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Like the language of most mountainous people - the Armenians
+call it Haik.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do they?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And themselves, Haik, also; they are a remarkable people, and,
+though their original habitation is the Mountain of Ararat, they are
+to be found, like the Jews, all over the world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, father, that&rsquo;s all I can tell you about the Haiks,
+or Armenians.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what does it all amount to?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very little, father; indeed, there is very little known about
+the Armenians; their early history, in particular, is involved in considerable
+mystery.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And, if you knew all that it was possible to know about them,
+to what would it amount? to what earthly purpose could you turn it?
+have you acquired any knowledge of your profession?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very little, father.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very little!&nbsp; Have you acquired all in your power?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I can&rsquo;t say that I have, father.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And yet it was your duty to have done so.&nbsp; But I see how
+it is, you have shamefully misused your opportunities; you are like
+one who, sent into the field to labour, passes his time in flinging
+stones at the birds of heaven.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I would scorn to fling a stone at a bird, father.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You know what I mean, and all too well, and this attempt to evade
+deserved reproof by feigned simplicity is quite in character with your
+general behaviour.&nbsp; I have ever observed about you a want of frankness,
+which has distressed me; you never speak of what you are about, your
+hopes, or your projects, but cover yourself with mystery.&nbsp; I never
+knew till the present moment that you were acquainted with Armenian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because you never asked me, father; there&rsquo;s nothing to
+conceal in the matter - I will tell you in a moment how I came to learn
+Armenian.&nbsp; A lady whom I met at one of Mrs. -&rsquo;s parties took
+a fancy to me, and has done me the honour to allow me to go and see
+her sometimes.&nbsp; She is the widow of a rich clergyman, and on her
+husband&rsquo;s death came to this place to live, bringing her husband&rsquo;s
+library with her: I soon found my way to it, and examined every book.&nbsp;
+Her husband must have been a learned man, for amongst much Greek and
+Hebrew I found several volumes in Armenian, or relating to the language.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And why did you not tell me of this before?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because you never questioned me; but, I repeat, there is nothing
+to conceal in the matter.&nbsp; The lady took a fancy to me, and, being
+fond of the arts, drew my portrait; she said the expression of my countenance
+put her in mind of Alfieri&rsquo;s Saul.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And do you still visit her?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, she soon grew tired of me, and told people that she found
+me very stupid; she gave me the Armenian books, however.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Saul,&rsquo; said my father, musingly, &lsquo;Saul.&nbsp; I am
+afraid she was only too right there; he disobeyed the commands of his
+master, and brought down on his head the vengeance of Heaven - he became
+a maniac, prophesied, and flung weapons about him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He was, indeed, an awful character - I hope I shan&rsquo;t turn
+out like him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;God forbid!&rsquo; said my father, solemnly; &lsquo;but in many
+respects you are headstrong and disobedient like him.&nbsp; I placed
+you in a profession, and besought you to make yourself master of it
+by giving it your undivided attention.&nbsp; This, however, you did
+not do, you know nothing of it, but tell me that you are acquainted
+with Armenian; but what I dislike most is your want of candour - you
+are my son, but I know little of your real history, you may know fifty
+things for what I am aware: you may know how to shoe a horse for what
+I am aware.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not only to shoe a horse, father, but to make horse-shoes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Perhaps so,&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;and it only serves
+to prove what I was just saying, that I know little about you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But you easily may, my dear father; I will tell you anything
+that you may wish to know - shall I inform you how I learnt to make
+horse-shoes?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;as you kept it a secret so
+long, it may as well continue so still.&nbsp; Had you been a frank,
+open-hearted boy, like one I could name, you would have told me all
+about it of your own accord.&nbsp; But I now wish to ask you a serious
+question - what do you propose to do?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To do, father?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes! the time for which you were articled to your profession
+will soon be expired, and I shall be no more.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do not talk so, my dear father; I have no doubt that you will
+soon be better.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do not flatter yourself; I feel that my days are numbered, I
+am soon going to my rest, and I have need of rest, for I am weary.&nbsp;
+There, there, don&rsquo;t weep!&nbsp; Tears will help me as little as
+they will you; you have not yet answered my question.&nbsp; Tell me
+what you intend to do?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I really do not know what I shall do.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The military pension which I enjoy will cease with my life.&nbsp;
+The property which I shall leave behind me will be barely sufficient
+for the maintenance of your mother respectably.&nbsp; I again ask you
+what you intend to do.&nbsp; Do you think you can support yourself by
+your Armenian or your other acquirements?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Alas!&nbsp; I think little at all about it; but I suppose I must
+push into the world, and make a good fight, as becomes the son of him
+who fought Big Ben; if I can&rsquo;t succeed, and am driven to the worst,
+it is but dying - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you mean by dying?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Leaving the world; my loss would scarcely be felt.&nbsp; I have
+never held life in much value, and every one has a right to dispose
+as he thinks best of that which is his own.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah! now I understand you; and well I know how and where you imbibed
+that horrible doctrine, and many similar ones which I have heard from
+your mouth; but I wish not to reproach you - I view in your conduct
+a punishment for my own sins, and I bow to the will of God.&nbsp; Few
+and evil have been my days upon the earth; little have I done to which
+I can look back with satisfaction.&nbsp; It is true I have served my
+king fifty years, and I have fought with - Heaven forgive me, what was
+I about to say! - but you mentioned the man&rsquo;s name, and our minds
+willingly recall our ancient follies.&nbsp; Few and evil have been my
+days upon earth, I may say with Jacob of old, though I do not mean to
+say that my case is so hard as his; he had many undutiful children,
+whilst I have only -; but I will not reproach you.&nbsp; I have also
+like him a son to whom I can look with hope, who may yet preserve my
+name when I am gone, so let me be thankful; perhaps, after all, I have
+not lived in vain.&nbsp; Boy, when I am gone, look up to your brother,
+and may God bless you both!&nbsp; There, don&rsquo;t weep; but take
+the Bible, and read me something about the old man and his children.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+My brother had now been absent for the space of three years.&nbsp; At
+first his letters had been frequent, and from them it appeared that
+he was following his profession in London with industry; they then became
+rather rare, and my father did not always communicate their contents.&nbsp;
+His last letter, however, had filled him and our whole little family
+with joy; it was dated from Paris, and the writer was evidently in high
+spirits.&nbsp; After describing in eloquent terms the beauties and gaieties
+of the French capital, he informed us how he had plenty of money, having
+copied a celebrated picture of one of the Italian masters for a Hungarian
+nobleman, for which he had received a large sum.&nbsp; &lsquo;He wishes
+me to go with him to Italy,&rsquo; added he, &lsquo;but I am fond of
+independence; and, if ever I visit old Rome, I will have no patrons
+near me to distract my attention.&rsquo;&nbsp; But six months had now
+elapsed from the date of this letter, and we had heard no further intelligence
+of my brother.&nbsp; My father&rsquo;s complaint increased; the gout,
+his principal enemy, occasionally mounted high up in his system, and
+we had considerable difficulty in keeping it from the stomach, where
+it generally proves fatal.&nbsp; I now devoted almost the whole of my
+time to my father, on whom his faithful partner also lavished every
+attention and care.&nbsp; I read the Bible to him, which was his chief
+delight; and also occasionally such other books as I thought might prove
+entertaining to him.&nbsp; His spirits were generally rather depressed.&nbsp;
+The absence of my brother appeared to prey upon his mind.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+wish he were here,&rsquo; he would frequently exclaim; &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t
+imagine what can have become of him; I trust, however, he will arrive
+in time.&rsquo;&nbsp; He still sometimes rallied, and I took advantage
+of those moments of comparative ease to question him upon the events
+of his early life.&nbsp; My attentions to him had not passed unnoticed,
+and he was kind, fatherly, and unreserved.&nbsp; I had never known my
+father so entertaining as at these moments, when his life was but too
+evidently drawing to a close.&nbsp; I had no idea that he knew and had
+seen so much; my respect for him increased, and I looked upon him almost
+with admiration.&nbsp; His anecdotes were in general highly curious;
+some of them related to people in the highest stations, and to men whose
+names were closely connected with some of the brightest glories of our
+native land.&nbsp; He had frequently conversed - almost on terms of
+familiarity - with good old George.&nbsp; He had known the conqueror
+of Tippoo Saib; and was the friend of Townshend, who, when Wolfe fell,
+led the British grenadiers against the shrinking regiments of Montcalm.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Pity,&rsquo; he added, &lsquo;that when old - old as I am now
+- he should have driven his own son mad by robbing him of his plighted
+bride; but so it was; he married his son&rsquo;s bride.&nbsp; I saw
+him lead her to the altar; if ever there was an angelic countenance,
+it was that girl&rsquo;s; she was almost too fair to be one of the daughters
+of women.&nbsp; Is there anything, boy, that you would wish to ask me?
+now is the time.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, father; there is one about whom I would fain question you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is it? shall I tell you about Elliot?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, father, not about Elliot; but pray don&rsquo;t be angry;
+I should like to know something about Big Ben.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are a strange lad,&rsquo; said my father; &lsquo;and, though
+of late I have begun to entertain a more favourable opinion than heretofore,
+there is still much about you that I do not understand.&nbsp; Why do
+you bring up that name?&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t you know that it is one of
+my temptations: you wish to know something about him.&nbsp; Well!&nbsp;
+I will oblige you this once, and then farewell to such vanities - something
+about him.&nbsp; I will tell you - his - skin when he flung off his
+clothes - and he had a particular knack in doing so - his skin, when
+he bared his mighty chest and back for combat; and when he fought he
+stood, so . . . . if I remember right - his skin, I say, was brown and
+dusky as that of a toad.&nbsp; Oh me!&nbsp; I wish my elder son was
+here.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXVIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+My brother&rsquo;s arrival - The interview - Night - A dying father
+- Christ.<br>
+<br>
+At last my brother arrived; he looked pale and unwell; I met him at
+the door.&nbsp; &lsquo;You have been long absent,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;perhaps too long; but how is my father?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very poorly,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;he has had a fresh attack;
+but where have you been of late?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Far and wide,&rsquo; said my brother; &lsquo;but I can&rsquo;t
+tell you anything now, I must go to my father.&nbsp; It was only by
+chance that I heard of his illness.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Stay a moment,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Is the world such
+a fine place as you supposed it to be before you went away?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not quite,&rsquo; said my brother, &lsquo;not quite; indeed I
+wish - but ask me no questions now, I must hasten to my father.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+There was another question on my tongue, but I forbore; for the eyes
+of the young man were full of tears.&nbsp; I pointed with my finger,
+and the young man hastened past me to the arms of his father.<br>
+<br>
+I forbore to ask my brother whether he had been to old Rome.<br>
+<br>
+What passed between my father and brother I do not know; the interview,
+no doubt, was tender enough, for they tenderly loved each other; but
+my brother&rsquo;s arrival did not produce the beneficial effect upon
+my father which I at first hoped it would; it did not even appear to
+have raised his spirits.&nbsp; He was composed enough, however: &lsquo;I
+ought to be grateful,&rsquo; said he; &lsquo;I wished to see my son,
+and God has granted me my wish; what more have I to do now than to bless
+my little family and go?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+My father&rsquo;s end was evidently at hand.<br>
+<br>
+And did I shed no tears? did I breathe no sighs? did I never wring my
+hands at this period? the reader will perhaps be asking.&nbsp; Whatever
+I did and thought is best known to God and myself; but it will be as
+well to observe, that it is possible to feel deeply, and yet make no
+outward sign.<br>
+<br>
+And now for the closing scene.<br>
+<br>
+At the dead hour of night, it might be about two, I was awakened from
+sleep by a cry which sounded from the room immediately below that in
+which I slept.&nbsp; I knew the cry, it was the cry of my mother; and
+I also knew its import, yet I made no effort to rise, for I was for
+the moment paralysed.&nbsp; Again the cry sounded, yet still I lay motionless
+- the stupidity of horror was upon me.&nbsp; A third time, and it was
+then that, by a violent effort, bursting the spell which appeared to
+bind me, I sprang from the bed and rushed downstairs.&nbsp; My mother
+was running wildly about the room; she had awoke, and found my father
+senseless in the bed by her side.&nbsp; I essayed to raise him, and
+after a few efforts supported him in the bed in a sitting posture.&nbsp;
+My brother now rushed in, and, snatching up a light that was burning,
+he held it to my father&rsquo;s face.&nbsp; &lsquo;The surgeon, the
+surgeon!&rsquo; he cried; then, dropping the light, he ran out of the
+room followed by my mother; I remained alone, supporting the senseless
+form of my father; the light had been extinguished by the fall, and
+an almost total darkness reigned in the room.&nbsp; The form pressed
+heavily against my bosom - at last methought it moved.&nbsp; Yes, I
+was right, there was a heaving of the breast, and then a gasping.&nbsp;
+Were those words which I heard?&nbsp; Yes, they were words, low and
+indistinct at first, and then audible.&nbsp; The mind of the dying man
+was reverting to former scenes.&nbsp; I heard him mention names which
+I had often heard him mention before.&nbsp; It was an awful moment;
+I felt stupefied, but I still contrived to support my dying father.&nbsp;
+There was a pause, again my father spoke: I heard him speak of Minden,
+and of Meredith, the old Minden sergeant, and then he uttered another
+name, which at one period of his life was much in his lips, the name
+of . . . but this is a solemn moment!&nbsp; There was a deep gasp: I
+shook, and thought all was over; but I was mistaken - my father moved,
+and revived for a moment; he supported himself in bed without my assistance.&nbsp;
+I make no doubt that for a moment he was perfectly sensible, and it
+was then that, clasping his hands, he uttered another name clearly,
+distinctly - it was the name of Christ.&nbsp; With that name upon his
+lips, the brave old soldier sank back upon my bosom, and, with his hands
+still clasped, yielded up his soul.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXIX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The greeting - Queer figure - Cheer up - The cheerful fire - It will
+do - The sally forth - Trepidation - Let him come in.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One-and-ninepence, sir, or the things which you have brought
+with you will be taken away from you!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Such were the first words which greeted my ears, one damp misty morning
+in March, as I dismounted from the top of a coach in the yard of a London
+inn.<br>
+<br>
+I turned round, for I felt that the words were addressed to myself.&nbsp;
+Plenty of people were in the yard - porters, passengers, coachmen, hostlers,
+and others, who appeared to be intent on anything but myself, with the
+exception of one individual, whose business appeared to lie with me,
+and who now confronted me at the distance of about two yards.<br>
+<br>
+I looked hard at the man - and a queer kind of individual he was to
+look at - a rakish figure, about thirty, and of the middle size, dressed
+in a coat smartly cut, but threadbare, very tight pantaloons of blue
+stuff, tied at the ankles, dirty white stockings and thin shoes, like
+those of a dancing-master; his features were not ugly, but rather haggard,
+and he appeared to owe his complexion less to nature than carmine; in
+fact, in every respect, a very queer figure.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One-and-ninepence, sir, or your things will be taken away from
+you!&rsquo; he said, in a kind of lisping tone, coming yet nearer to
+me.<br>
+<br>
+I still remained staring fixedly at him, but never a word answered.&nbsp;
+Our eyes met; whereupon he suddenly lost the easy impudent air which
+he before wore.&nbsp; He glanced, for a moment, at my fist, which I
+had by this time clenched, and his features became yet more haggard;
+he faltered; a fresh &lsquo;one-and-ninepence,&rsquo; which he was about
+to utter, died on his lips; he shrank back, disappeared behind a coach,
+and I saw no more of him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One-and-ninepence, or my things will be taken away from me!&rsquo;
+said I to myself, musingly, as I followed the porter to whom I had delivered
+my scanty baggage; &lsquo;am I to expect many of these greetings in
+the big world?&nbsp; Well, never mind!&nbsp; I think I know the counter-sign!&rsquo;&nbsp;
+And I clenched my fist yet harder than before.<br>
+<br>
+So I followed the porter, through the streets of London, to a lodging
+which had been prepared for me by an acquaintance.&nbsp; The morning,
+as I have before said, was gloomy, and the streets through which I passed
+were dank and filthy; the people, also, looked dank and filthy; and
+so, probably, did I, for the night had been rainy, and I had come upwards
+of a hundred miles on the top of a coach; my heart had sunk within me,
+by the time we reached a dark narrow street, in which was the lodging.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Cheer up, young man,&rsquo; said the porter, &lsquo;we shall
+have a fine afternoon!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And presently I found myself in the lodging which had been prepared
+for me.&nbsp; It consisted of a small room, up two pair of stairs, in
+which I was to sit, and another still smaller above it, in which I was
+to sleep.&nbsp; I remember that I sat down, and looked disconsolate
+about me - everything seemed so cold and dingy.&nbsp; Yet how little
+is required to make a situation - however cheerless at first sight -
+cheerful and comfortable.&nbsp; The people of the house, who looked
+kindly upon me, lighted a fire in the dingy grate; and, then, what a
+change! - the dingy room seemed dingy no more!&nbsp; Oh the luxury of
+a cheerful fire after a chill night&rsquo;s journey!&nbsp; I drew near
+to the blazing grate, rubbed my hands, and felt glad.<br>
+<br>
+And, when I had warmed myself, I turned to the table, on which, by this
+time, the people of the house had placed my breakfast; and I ate and
+I drank; and, as I ate and drank, I mused within myself, and my eyes
+were frequently directed to a small green box, which constituted part
+of my luggage, and which, with the rest of my things, stood in one corner
+of the room, till at last, leaving my breakfast unfinished, I rose,
+and, going to the box, unlocked it, and took out two or three bundles
+of papers tied with red tape, and, placing them on the table, I resumed
+my seat and my breakfast, my eyes intently fixed upon the bundles of
+papers all the time.<br>
+<br>
+And when I had drained the last cup of tea out of a dingy teapot, and
+ate the last slice of the dingy loaf, I untied one of the bundles, and
+proceeded to look over the papers, which were closely written over in
+a singular hand, and I read for some time, till at last I said to myself,
+&lsquo;It will do.&rsquo;&nbsp; And then I looked at the other bundle
+for some time without untying it; and at last I said, &lsquo;It will
+do also.&rsquo;&nbsp; And then I turned to the fire, and, putting my
+feet against the sides of the grate, I leaned back on my chair, and,
+with my eyes upon the fire, fell into deep thought.<br>
+<br>
+And there I continued in thought before the fire, until my eyes closed,
+and I fell asleep; which was not to be wondered at, after the fatigue
+and cold which I had lately undergone on the coach-top; and, in my sleep,
+I imagined myself still there, amidst darkness and rain, hurrying now
+over wild heaths, and now along roads overhung with thick and umbrageous
+trees, and sometimes methought I heard the horn of the guard, and sometimes
+the voice of the coachman, now chiding, now encouraging his horses,
+as they toiled through the deep and miry ways.&nbsp; At length a tremendous
+crack of a whip saluted the tympanum of my ear, and I started up broad
+awake, nearly oversetting the chair on which I reclined - and lo! I
+was in the dingy room before the fire, which was by this time half extinguished.&nbsp;
+In my dream I had confounded the noise of the street with those of my
+night journey; the crack which had aroused me I soon found proceeded
+from the whip of a carter, who, with many oaths, was flogging his team
+below the window.<br>
+<br>
+Looking at a clock which stood upon the mantelpiece, I perceived that
+it was past eleven; whereupon I said to myself, &lsquo;I am wasting
+my time foolishly and unprofitably, forgetting that I am now in the
+big world, without anything to depend upon save my own exertions&rsquo;;
+and then I adjusted my dress, and, locking up the bundle of papers which
+I had not read, I tied up the other, and, taking it under my arm, I
+went downstairs; and, after asking a question or two of the people of
+the house, I sallied forth into the street with a determined look, though
+at heart I felt somewhat timorous at the idea of venturing out alone
+into the mazes of the mighty city, of which I had heard much, but of
+which, of my own knowledge, I knew nothing.<br>
+<br>
+I had, however, no great cause for anxiety in the present instance;
+I easily found my way to the place which I was in quest of - one of
+the many new squares on the northern side of the metropolis, and which
+was scarcely ten minutes&rsquo; walk from the street in which I had
+taken up my abode.&nbsp; Arriving before the door of a tolerably large
+house which bore a certain number, I stood still for a moment in a kind
+of trepidation, looking anxiously at the door; I then slowly passed
+on till I came to the end of the square, where I stood still, and pondered
+for a while.&nbsp; Suddenly, however, like one who has formed a resolution,
+I clenched my right hand, flinging my hat somewhat on one side, and,
+turning back with haste to the door before which I had stopped, I sprang
+up the steps, and gave a loud rap, ringing at the same time the bell
+of the area.&nbsp; After the lapse of a minute the door was opened by
+a maid-servant of no very cleanly or prepossessing appearance, of whom
+I demanded, in a tone of some hauteur, whether the master of the house
+was at home.&nbsp; Glancing for a moment at the white paper bundle beneath
+my arm, the handmaid made no reply in words, but, with a kind of toss
+of her head, flung the door open, standing on one side as if to let
+me enter.&nbsp; I did enter; and the hand-maid, having opened another
+door on the right hand, went in, and said something which I could not
+hear: after a considerable pause, however, I heard the voice of a man
+say, &lsquo;Let him come in&rsquo;; whereupon the handmaid, coming out,
+motioned me to enter, and, on my obeying, instantly closed the door
+behind me.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The sinister glance - Excellent correspondent - Quite original - My
+system - A losing trade - Merit - Starting a Review - What have you
+got? - Stop! - <i>Dairyman&rsquo;s Daughter</i> - Oxford principles
+- More conversation - How is this?<br>
+<br>
+There were two individuals in the room in which I now found myself;
+it was a small study, surrounded with bookcases, the window looking
+out upon the square.&nbsp; Of these individuals he who appeared to be
+the principal stood with his back to the fireplace.&nbsp; He was a tall
+stout man, about sixty, dressed in a loose morning gown.&nbsp; The expression
+of his countenance would have been bluff but for a certain sinister
+glance, and his complexion might have been called rubicund but for a
+considerable tinge of bilious yellow.&nbsp; He eyed me askance as I
+entered.&nbsp; The other, a pale, shrivelled-looking person, sat at
+a table apparently engaged with an account-book; he took no manner of
+notice of me, never once lifting his eyes from the page before him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, sir, what is your pleasure?&rsquo; said the big man, in
+a rough tone, as I stood there, looking at him wistfully - as well I
+might - for upon that man, at the time of which I am speaking, my principal,
+I may say my only, hopes rested.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;my name is so-and-so, and I am the
+bearer of a letter to you from Mr. so-and-so, an old friend and correspondent
+of yours.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The countenance of the big man instantly lost the suspicious and lowering
+expression which it had hitherto exhibited; he strode forward, and,
+seizing me by the hand, gave me a violent squeeze.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My dear sir,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;I am rejoiced to see you
+in London.&nbsp; I have been long anxious for the pleasure - we are
+old friends, though we have never before met.&nbsp; Taggart,&rsquo;
+said he to the man who sat at the desk, &lsquo;this is our excellent
+correspondent, the friend and pupil of our other excellent correspondent.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The pale, shrivelled-looking man slowly and deliberately raised his
+head from the account-book, and surveyed me for a moment or two; not
+the slightest emotion was observable in his countenance.&nbsp; It appeared
+to me, however, that I could detect a droll twinkle in his eye: his
+curiosity, if he had any, was soon gratified; he made me a kind of bow,
+pulled out a snuff-box, took a pinch of snuff, and again bent his head
+over the page.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And now, my dear sir,&rsquo; said the big man, &lsquo;pray sit
+down, and tell me the cause of your visit.&nbsp; I hope you intend to
+remain here a day or two.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;More than that,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am come to take up my
+abode in London.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Glad to hear it; and what have you been about of late? got anything
+which will suit me?&nbsp; Sir, I admire your style of writing, and your
+manner of thinking; and I am much obliged to my good friend and correspondent
+for sending me some of your productions.&nbsp; I inserted them all,
+and wished there had been more of them - quite original, sir, quite:
+took with the public, especially the essay about the non-existence of
+anything.&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t exactly agree with you though; I have
+my own peculiar ideas about matter - as you know, of course, from the
+book I have published.&nbsp; Nevertheless, a very pretty piece of speculative
+philosophy - no such thing as matter - impossible that there should
+be - <i>ex nihilo</i> - what is the Greek?&nbsp; I have forgot - very
+pretty indeed; very original.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am afraid, sir, it was very wrong to write such trash, and
+yet more to allow it to be published.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Trash! not at all; a very pretty piece of speculative philosophy;
+of course you were wrong in saying there is no world.&nbsp; The world
+must exist, to have the shape of a pear; and that the world is shaped
+like a pear, and not like an apple, as the fools of Oxford say, I have
+satisfactorily proved in my book.&nbsp; Now, if there were no world,
+what would become of my system?&nbsp; But what do you propose to do
+in London?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Here is the letter, sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;of our good friend,
+which I have not yet given to you; I believe it will explain to you
+the circumstances under which I come.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+He took the letter, and perused it with attention.&nbsp; &lsquo;Hem!&rsquo;
+said he, with a somewhat altered manner, &lsquo;my friend tells me that
+you are come up to London with the view of turning your literary talents
+to account, and desires me to assist you in my capacity of publisher
+in bringing forth two or three works which you have prepared.&nbsp;
+My good friend is perhaps not aware that for some time past I have given
+up publishing - was obliged to do so - had many severe losses - do nothing
+at present in that line, save sending out the Magazine once a month;
+and, between ourselves, am thinking of disposing of that - wish to retire
+- high time at my age - so you see - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am very sorry, sir, to hear that you cannot assist me&rsquo;
+(and I remember that I felt very nervous); &lsquo;I had hoped - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A losing trade, I assure you, sir; literature is a drug.&nbsp;
+Taggart, what o&rsquo;clock is?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, sir!&rsquo; said I, rising, &lsquo;as you cannot assist
+me, I will now take my leave; I thank you sincerely for your kind reception,
+and will trouble you no longer.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t go.&nbsp; I wish to have some further conversation
+with you; and perhaps I may hit upon some plan to benefit you.&nbsp;
+I honour merit, and always make a point to encourage it when I can;
+but - Taggart, go to the bank, and tell them to dishonour the bill twelve
+months after date for thirty pounds which becomes due to-morrow.&nbsp;
+I am dissatisfied with that fellow who wrote the fairy tales, and intend
+to give him all the trouble in my power.&nbsp; Make haste.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Taggart did not appear to be in any particular haste.&nbsp; First of
+all, he took a pinch of snuff, then, rising from his chair, slowly and
+deliberately drew his wig, for he wore a wig of a brown colour, rather
+more over his forehead than it had previously been, buttoned his coat,
+and, taking his hat, and an umbrella which stood in a corner, made me
+a low bow, and quitted the room.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, sir, where were we?&nbsp; Oh, I remember, we were talking
+about merit.&nbsp; Sir, I always wish to encourage merit, especially
+when it comes so highly recommended as in the present instance.&nbsp;
+Sir, my good friend and correspondent speaks of you in the highest terms.&nbsp;
+Sir, I honour my good friend, and have the highest respect for his opinion
+in all matters connected with literature - rather eccentric though.&nbsp;
+Sir, my good friend has done my periodical more good and more harm than
+all the rest of my correspondents.&nbsp; Sir, I shall never forget the
+sensation caused by the appearance of his article about a certain personage
+whom he proved - and I think satisfactorily - to have been a legionary
+soldier - rather startling, was it not?&nbsp; The S- of the world a
+common soldier, in a marching regiment - original, but startling; sir,
+I honour my good friend.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So you have renounced publishing, sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;with
+the exception of the Magazine?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, yes; except now and then, under the rose; the old coachman,
+you know, likes to hear the whip.&nbsp; Indeed, at the present moment,
+I am thinking of starting a Review on an entirely new and original principle;
+and it just struck me that you might be of high utility in the undertaking
+- what do you think of the matter?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I should be happy, sir, to render you any assistance, but I am
+afraid the employment you propose requires other qualifications than
+I possess; however, I can make the essay.&nbsp; My chief intention in
+coming to London was to lay before the world what I had prepared; and
+I had hoped by your assistance - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah!&nbsp; I see, ambition!&nbsp; Ambition is a very pretty thing;
+but, sir, we must walk before we run, according to the old saying -
+what is that you have got under your arm?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One of the works to which I was alluding; the one, indeed, which
+I am most anxious to lay before the world, as I hope to derive from
+it both profit and reputation.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Indeed! what do you call it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ancient songs of Denmark, heroic and romantic, translated by
+myself; with notes philological, critical, and historical.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then, sir, I assure you that your time and labour have been entirely
+flung away; nobody would read your ballads, if you were to give them
+to the world to-morrow.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am sure, sir, that you would say otherwise if you would permit
+me to read one to you&rsquo;; and, without waiting for the answer of
+the big man, nor indeed so much as looking at him, to see whether he
+was inclined or not to hear me, I undid my manuscript, and, with a voice
+trembling with eagerness, I read to the following effect: -<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Buckshank bold and Elfinstone,<br>
+And more than I can mention here,<br>
+They caused to be built so stout a ship,<br>
+And unto Iceland they would steer.<br>
+<br>
+They launched the ship upon the main,<br>
+Which bellowed like a wrathful bear;<br>
+Down to the bottom the vessel sank,<br>
+A laidly Trold has dragged it there.<br>
+<br>
+Down to the bottom sank young Roland,<br>
+And round about he groped awhile;<br>
+Until he found the path which led<br>
+Unto the bower of Ellenlyle.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Stop!&rsquo; said the publisher; &lsquo;very pretty indeed, and
+very original; beats Scott hollow, and Percy too: but, sir, the day
+for these things is gone by; nobody at present cares for Percy, nor
+for Scott either, save as a novelist; sorry to discourage merit, sir,
+but what can I do!&nbsp; What else have you got?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The songs of Ab Gwilym, the Welsh bard, also translated by myself,
+with notes critical, philological, and historical.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pass on - what else?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nothing else,&rsquo; said I, folding up my manuscript with a
+sigh, &lsquo;unless it be a romance in the German style; on which, I
+confess, I set very little value.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Wild?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, sir, very wild.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Like the Miller of the Black Valley?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, sir, very much like the Miller of the Black Valley.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, that&rsquo;s better,&rsquo; said the publisher; &lsquo;and
+yet, I don&rsquo;t know, I question whether any one at present cares
+for the miller himself.&nbsp; No, sir, the time for those things is
+also gone by; German, at present, is a drug; and, between ourselves,
+nobody has contributed to make it so more than my good friend and correspondent;
+- but, sir, I see you are a young gentleman of infinite merit, and I
+always wish to encourage merit.&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t you think you could
+write a series of evangelical tales?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Evangelical tales, sir?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, sir, evangelical novels.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Something in the style of Herder?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Herder is a drug, sir; nobody cares for Herder - thanks to my
+good friend.&nbsp; Sir, I have in yon drawer a hundred pages about Herder,
+which I dare not insert in my periodical; it would sink it, sir.&nbsp;
+No, sir, something in the style of the <i>Dairyman&rsquo;s Daughter</i>.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never heard of the work till the present moment.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then, sir, procure it by all means.&nbsp; Sir, I could afford
+as much as ten pounds for a well-written tale in the style of the <i>Dairyman&rsquo;s
+Daughter</i>; that is the kind of literature, sir, that sells at the
+present day!&nbsp; It is not the Miller of the Black Valley - no, sir,
+nor Herder either, that will suit the present taste; the evangelical
+body is becoming very strong, sir; the canting scoundrels - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But, sir, surely you would not pander to a scoundrelly taste?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then, sir, I must give up business altogether.&nbsp; Sir, I have
+a great respect for the goddess Reason - an infinite respect, sir; indeed,
+in my time, I have made a great many sacrifices for her; but, sir, I
+cannot altogether ruin myself for the goddess Reason.&nbsp; Sir, I am
+a friend to Liberty, as is well known; but I must also be a friend to
+my own family.&nbsp; It is with the view of providing for a son of mine
+that I am about to start the Review of which I was speaking.&nbsp; He
+has taken into his head to marry, sir, and I must do something for him,
+for he can do but little for himself.&nbsp; Well, sir, I am a friend
+to Liberty, as I said before, and likewise a friend to Reason; but I
+tell you frankly that the Review which I intend to get up under the
+rose, and present him with when it is established, will be conducted
+on Oxford principles.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Orthodox principles, I suppose you mean, sir?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do, sir; I am no linguist, but I believe the words are synonymous.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Much more conversation passed between us, and it was agreed that I should
+become a contributor to the Oxford Review.&nbsp; I stipulated, however,
+that, as I knew little of politics, and cared less, no other articles
+should be required from me than such as were connected with belles-lettres
+and philology; to this the big man readily assented.&nbsp; &lsquo;Nothing
+will be required from you,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;but what you mention;
+and now and then, perhaps, a paper on metaphysics.&nbsp; You understand
+German, and perhaps it would be desirable that you should review Kant;
+and in a review of Kant, sir, you could introduce to advantage your
+peculiar notions about <i>ex nihilo</i>.&rsquo;&nbsp; He then reverted
+to the subject of the <i>Dairyman&rsquo;s</i> <i>Daughter</i>, which
+I promised to take into consideration.&nbsp; As I was going away, he
+invited me to dine with him on the ensuing Sunday.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s a strange man!&rsquo; said I to myself, after I
+had left the house; &lsquo;he is evidently very clever; but I cannot
+say that I like him much, with his Oxford Reviews and Dairyman&rsquo;s
+Daughters.&nbsp; But what can I do?&nbsp; I am almost without a friend
+in the world.&nbsp; I wish I could find some one who would publish my
+ballads, or my songs of Ab Gwilym.&nbsp; In spite of what the big man
+says, I am convinced that, once published, they would bring me much
+fame and profit.&nbsp; But how is this? - what a beautiful sun! - the
+porter was right in saying that the day would clear up - I will now
+go to my dingy lodging, lock up my manuscripts, and then take a stroll
+about the big city.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The walk - London&rsquo;s Cheape - Street of the Lombards - Strange
+bridge - Main arch - The roaring gulf - The boat - Cly-faking - A comfort
+- The book - The blessed woman - No trap.<br>
+<br>
+So I set out on my walk to see the wonders of the big city, and, as
+chance would have it, I directed my course to the east.&nbsp; The day,
+as I have already said, had become very fine, so that I saw the great
+city to advantage, and the wonders thereof: and much I admired all I
+saw; and, amongst other things, the huge cathedral, standing so proudly
+on the most commanding ground in the big city; and I looked up to the
+mighty dome, surmounted by a golden cross, and I said within myself,
+&lsquo;That dome must needs be the finest in the world&rsquo;; and I
+gazed upon it till my eyes reeled, and my brain became dizzy, and I
+thought that the dome would fall and crush me; and I shrank within myself,
+and struck yet deeper into the heart of the big city.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;O Cheapside! Cheapside!&rsquo; said I, as I advanced up that
+mighty thoroughfare, &lsquo;truly thou art a wonderful place for hurry,
+noise, and riches!&nbsp; Men talk of the bazaars of the East - I have
+never seen them - but I daresay that, compared with thee, they are poor
+places, silent places, abounding with empty boxes, O thou pride of London&rsquo;s
+east! - mighty mart of old renown! - for thou art not a place of yesterday:-
+long before the Roses red and white battled in fair England, thou didst
+exist - a place of throng and bustle - place of gold and silver, perfumes
+and fine linen.&nbsp; Centuries ago thou couldst extort the praises
+even of the fiercest foes of England.&nbsp; Fierce bards of Wales, sworn
+foes of England, sang thy praises centuries ago; and even the fiercest
+of them all, Red Julius himself, wild Glendower&rsquo;s bard, had a
+word of praise for London&rsquo;s &lsquo;Cheape,&rsquo; for so the bards
+of Wales styled thee in their flowing odes.&nbsp; Then, if those who
+were not English, and hated England, and all connected therewith, had
+yet much to say in thy praise, when thou wast far inferior to what thou
+art now, why should true-born Englishmen, or those who call themselves
+so, turn up their noses at thee, and scoff thee at the present day,
+as I believe they do?&nbsp; But, let others do as they will, I, at least,
+who am not only an Englishman, but an East Englishman, will not turn
+up my nose at thee, but will praise and extol thee, calling thee mart
+of the world - a place of wonder and astonishment! - and, were it right
+and fitting to wish that anything should endure for ever, I would say
+prosperity to Cheapside, throughout all ages - may it be the world&rsquo;s
+resort for merchandise, world without end.<br>
+<br>
+And when I had passed through the Cheape I entered another street, which
+led up a kind of ascent, and which proved to be the street of the Lombards,
+called so from the name of its first founders; and I walked rapidly
+up the street of the Lombards, neither looking to the right nor left,
+for it had no interest for me, though I had a kind of consciousness
+that mighty things were being transacted behind its walls: but it wanted
+the throng, bustle, and outward magnificence of the Cheape, and it had
+never been spoken of by &lsquo;ruddy bards&rsquo;!&nbsp; And, when I
+had got to the end of the street of the Lombards, I stood still for
+some time, deliberating within myself whether I should turn to the right
+or the left, or go straight forward, and at last I turned to the right,
+down a street of rapid descent, and presently found myself upon a bridge
+which traversed the river which runs by the big city.<br>
+<br>
+A strange kind of bridge it was; huge and massive, and seemingly of
+great antiquity.&nbsp; It had an arched back, like that of a hog, a
+high balustrade, and at either side, at intervals, were stone bowers
+bulking over the river, but open on the other side, and furnished with
+a semicircular bench.&nbsp; Though the bridge was wide - very wide -
+it was all too narrow for the concourse upon it.&nbsp; Thousands of
+human beings were pouring over the bridge.&nbsp; But what chiefly struck
+my attention was a double row of carts and wagons, the generality drawn
+by horses as large as elephants, each row striving hard in a different
+direction, and not unfrequently brought to a stand-still.&nbsp; Oh the
+cracking of whips, the shouts and oaths of the carters, and the grating
+of wheels upon the enormous stones that formed the pavement!&nbsp; In
+fact, there was a wild burly-burly upon the bridge, which nearly deafened
+me.&nbsp; But, if upon the bridge there was a confusion, below it there
+was a confusion ten times confounded.&nbsp; The tide, which was fast
+ebbing, obstructed by the immense piers of the old bridge, poured beneath
+the arches with a fall of several feet, forming in the river below as
+many whirlpools as there were arches.&nbsp; Truly tremendous was the
+roar of the descending waters, and the bellow of the tremendous gulfs,
+which swallowed them for a time, and then cast them forth, foaming and
+frothing from their horrid wombs.&nbsp; Slowly advancing along the bridge,
+I came to the highest point, and there I stood still, close beside one
+of the stone bowers, in which, beside a fruit-stall, sat an old woman,
+with a pan of charcoal at her feet, and a book in her hand, in which
+she appeared to be reading intently.&nbsp; There I stood, just above
+the principal arch, looking through the balustrade at the scene that
+presented itself - and such a scene!&nbsp; Towards the left bank of
+the river, a forest of masts, thick and close, as far as the eye could
+reach; spacious wharfs, surmounted with gigantic edifices; and, far
+away, Caesar&rsquo;s Castle, with its White Tower.&nbsp; To the right,
+another forest of masts, and a maze of buildings, from which, here and
+there, shot up to the sky chimneys taller than Cleopatra&rsquo;s Needle,
+vomiting forth huge wreaths of that black smoke which forms the canopy
+- occasionally a gorgeous one - of the more than Babel city.&nbsp; Stretching
+before me, the troubled breast of the mighty river, and, immediately
+below, the main whirlpool of the Thames - the Ma&euml;lstrom of the
+bulwarks of the middle arch - a grisly pool, which, with its superabundance
+of horror, fascinated me.&nbsp; Who knows but I should have leapt into
+its depths? - I have heard of such things - but for a rather startling
+occurrence which broke the spell.&nbsp; As I stood upon the bridge,
+gazing into the jaws of the pool, a small boat shot suddenly through
+the arch beneath my feet.&nbsp; There were three persons in it; an oarsman
+in the middle, whilst a man and woman sat at the stern.&nbsp; I shall
+never forget the thrill of horror which went through me at this sudden
+apparition.&nbsp; What! - a boat - a small boat - passing beneath that
+arch into yonder roaring gulf!&nbsp; Yes, yes, down through that awful
+water-way, with more than the swiftness of an arrow, shot the boat,
+or skiff, right into the jaws of the pool.&nbsp; A monstrous breaker
+curls over the prow - there is no hope; the boat is swamped, and all
+drowned in that strangling vortex.&nbsp; No! the boat, which appeared
+to have the buoyancy of a feather, skipped over the threatening horror,
+and, the next moment, was out of danger, the boatman - a true boatman
+of Cockaigne that - elevating one of his sculls in sign of triumph,
+the man hallooing, and the woman, a true Englishwoman that - of a certain
+class - waving her shawl.&nbsp; Whether any one observed them save myself,
+or whether the feat was a common one, I know not; but nobody appeared
+to take any notice of them.&nbsp; As for myself, I was so excited that
+I strove to clamber up the balustrade of the bridge, in order to obtain
+a better view of the daring adventurers.&nbsp; Before I could accomplish
+my design, however, I felt myself seized by the body, and, turning my
+head, perceived the old fruit-woman, who was clinging to me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nay, dear! don&rsquo;t - don&rsquo;t!&rsquo; said she.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t fling yourself over - perhaps you may have better
+luck next time!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was not going to fling myself over,&rsquo; said I, dropping
+from the balustrade; &lsquo;how came you to think of such a thing?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, seeing you clamber up so fiercely, I thought you might have
+had ill luck, and that you wished to make away with yourself.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ill luck,&rsquo; said I, going into the stone bower, and sitting
+down.&nbsp; &lsquo;What do you mean? ill luck in what?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, no great harm, dear! cly-faking perhaps.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are you coming over me with dialects,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;speaking
+unto me in fashions I wot nothing of?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nay, dear! don&rsquo;t look so strange with those eyes of your&rsquo;n,
+nor talk so strangely; I don&rsquo;t understand you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nor I you; what do you mean by cly-faking?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Lor, dear! no harm; only taking a handkerchief now and then.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you take me for a thief?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nay, dear! don&rsquo;t make use of bad language; we never calls
+them thieves here, but prigs and fakers: to tell you the truth, dear,
+seeing you spring at that railing put me in mind of my own dear son,
+who is now at Bot&rsquo;ny: when he had bad luck, he always used to
+talk of flinging himself over the bridge; and, sure enough, when the
+traps were after him, he did fling himself into the river, but that
+was off the bank; nevertheless, the traps pulled him out, and he is
+now suffering his sentence; so you see you may speak out, if you have
+done anything in the harmless line, for I am my son&rsquo;s own mother,
+I assure you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So you think there&rsquo;s no harm in stealing?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No harm in the world, dear!&nbsp; Do you think my own child would
+have been transported for it, if there had been any harm in it? and,
+what&rsquo;s more, would the blessed woman in the book here have written
+her life as she has done, and given it to the world, if there had been
+any harm in faking?&nbsp; She, too, was what they call a thief and a
+cut-purse; ay, and was transported for it, like my dear son; and do
+you think she would have told the world so, if there had been any harm
+in the thing?&nbsp; Oh, it is a comfort to me that the blessed woman
+was transported, and came back - for come back she did, and rich too
+- for it is an assurance to me that my dear son, who was transported
+too, will come back like her.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What was her name?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Her name, blessed Mary Flanders.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Will you let me look at the book?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, dear, that I will, if you promise me not to run away with
+it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I took the book from her hand; a short thick volume, at least a century
+old, bound with greasy black leather.&nbsp; I turned the yellow and
+dog&rsquo;s-eared pages, reading here and there a sentence.&nbsp; Yes,
+and no mistake!&nbsp; <i>His</i> pen, his style, his spirit might be
+observed in every line of the uncouth-looking old volume - the air,
+the style, the spirit of the writer of the book which first taught me
+to read.&nbsp; I covered my face with my hand, and thought of my childhood.
+. . .<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;This is a singular book,&rsquo; said I at last; &lsquo;but it
+does not appear to have been written to prove that thieving is no harm,
+but rather to show the terrible consequences of crime: it contains a
+deep moral.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A deep what, dear?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A - but no matter, I will give you a crown for this volume.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, dear, I will not sell the volume for a crown.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am poor,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but I will give you two silver
+crowns for your volume.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, dear, I will not sell my volume for two silver crowns; no,
+nor for the golden one in the king&rsquo;s tower down there; without
+my book I should mope and pine, and perhaps fling myself into the river;
+but I am glad you like it, which shows that I was right about you, after
+all; you are one of our party, and you have a flash about that eye of
+yours which puts me just in mind of my dear son.&nbsp; No, dear, I won&rsquo;t
+sell you my book; but, if you like, you may have a peep into it whenever
+you come this way.&nbsp; I shall be glad to see you; you are one of
+the right sort, for, if you had been a common one, you would have run
+away with the thing; but you scorn such behaviour, and, as you are so
+flash of your money, though you say you are poor, you may give me a
+tanner to buy a little baccy with; I love baccy, dear, more by token
+that it comes from the plantations to which the blessed woman was sent.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s a tanner?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Lor! don&rsquo;t you know, dear?&nbsp; Why, a tanner is sixpence;
+and, as you were talking just now about crowns, it will be as well to
+tell you that those of our trade never calls them crowns, but bulls;
+but I am talking nonsense, just as if you did not know all that already,
+as well as myself; you are only shamming - I&rsquo;m no trap, dear,
+nor more was the blessed woman in the book.&nbsp; Thank you, dear -
+thank you for the tanner; if I don&rsquo;t spend it, I&rsquo;ll keep
+it in remembrance of your sweet face.&nbsp; What, you are going? - well,
+first let me whisper a word to you.&nbsp; If you have any clies to sell
+at any time, I&rsquo;ll buy them of you; all safe with me; I never peach,
+and scores a trap; so now, dear, God bless you! and give you good luck.&nbsp;
+Thank you for your pleasant company, and thank you for the tanner.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The tanner - The hotel - Drinking claret - London journal - New field
+- Commonplaceness - The three individuals - Botheration - Frank and
+ardent.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Tanner!&rsquo; said I musingly, as I left the bridge; &lsquo;Tanner!
+what can the man who cures raw skins by means of a preparation of oak
+bark and other materials have to do with the name which these fakers,
+as they call themselves, bestow on the smallest silver coin in these
+dominions?&nbsp; Tanner!&nbsp; I can&rsquo;t trace the connection between
+the man of bark and the silver coin, unless journeymen tanners are in
+the habit of working for sixpence a day.&nbsp; But I have it,&rsquo;
+I continued, flourishing my hat over my head, &lsquo;tanner, in this
+instance, is not an English word.&rsquo;&nbsp; Is it not surprising
+that the language of Mr. Petulengro and of Tawno Chikno is continually
+coming to my assistance whenever I appear to be at a nonplus with respect
+to the derivation of crabbed words?&nbsp; I have made out crabbed words
+in AEschylus by means of the speech of Chikno and Petulengro, and even
+in my Biblical researches I have derived no slight assistance from it.&nbsp;
+It appears to be a kind of picklock, an open sesame, Tanner - Tawno!
+the one is but a modification of the other; they were originally identical,
+and have still much the same signification.&nbsp; Tanner, in the language
+of the apple-woman, meaneth the smallest of English silver coins; and
+Tawno, in the language of the Petulengres, though bestowed upon the
+biggest of the Romans, according to strict interpretation signifieth
+a little child.<br>
+<br>
+So I left the bridge, retracing my steps for a considerable way, as
+I thought I had seen enough in the direction in which I had hitherto
+been wandering; I should say that I scarcely walked less than thirty
+miles about the big city on the day of my first arrival.&nbsp; Night
+came on, but still I was walking about, my eyes wide open, and admiring
+everything that presented itself to them.&nbsp; Everything was new to
+me, for everything is different in London from what it is elsewhere
+- the people, their language, the horses, the <i>tout ensemble</i> -
+even the stones of London are different from others - at least it appeared
+to me that I had never walked with the same case and facility on the
+flagstones of a country town as on those of London; so I continued roving
+about till night came on, and then the splendour of some of the shops
+particularly struck me.&nbsp; &lsquo;A regular Arabian Nights entertainment!&rsquo;
+said I, as I looked into one on Cornhill, gorgeous with precious merchandise,
+and lighted up with lustres, the rays of which were reflected from a
+hundred mirrors.<br>
+<br>
+But, notwithstanding the excellence of the London pavement, I began
+about nine o&rsquo;clock to feel myself thoroughly tired; painfully
+and slowly did I drag my feet along.&nbsp; I also felt very much in
+want of some refreshment, and I remembered that since breakfast I had
+taken nothing.&nbsp; I was now in the Strand, and, glancing about, I
+perceived that I was close by an hotel, which bore over the door the
+somewhat remarkable name of Holy Lands.&nbsp; Without a moment&rsquo;s
+hesitation I entered a well-lighted passage, and, turning to the left,
+I found myself in a well-lighted coffee-room, with a well-dressed and
+frizzled waiter before me, &lsquo;Bring me some claret,&rsquo; said
+I, for I was rather faint than hungry, and I felt ashamed to give a
+humbler order to so well-dressed an individual.&nbsp; The waiter looked
+at me for a moment; then, making a low bow, he bustled off, and I sat
+myself down in the box nearest to the window.&nbsp; Presently the waiter
+returned, bearing beneath his left arm a long bottle, and between the
+fingers of his right hand two large purple glasses; placing the latter
+on the table, he produced a corkscrew, drew the cork in a twinkling,
+set the bottle down before me with a bang, and then, standing still,
+appeared to watch my movements.&nbsp; You think I don&rsquo;t know how
+to drink a glass of claret, thought I to myself.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll soon
+show you how we drink claret where I come from; and, filling one of
+the glasses to the brim, I flickered it for a moment between my eyes
+and the lustre, and then held it to my nose; having given that organ
+full time to test the bouquet of the wine, I applied the glass to my
+lips, taking a large mouthful of the wine, which I swallowed slowly
+and by degrees, that the palate might likewise have an opportunity of
+performing its functions.&nbsp; A second mouthful I disposed of more
+summarily; then, placing the empty glass upon the table, I fixed my
+eyes upon the bottle, and said - nothing; whereupon the waiter, who
+had been observing the whole process with considerable attention, made
+me a bow yet more low than before, and, turning on his heel, retired
+with a smart chuck of his head, as much as to say, It is all right:
+the young man is used to claret.<br>
+<br>
+And when the waiter had retired I took a second glass of the wine, which
+I found excellent; and, observing a newspaper lying near me, I took
+it up and began perusing it.&nbsp; It has been observed somewhere that
+people who are in the habit of reading newspapers every day are not
+unfrequently struck with the excellence of style and general talent
+which they display.&nbsp; Now, if that be the case, how must I have
+been surprised, who was reading a newspaper for the first time, and
+that one of the best of the London journals!&nbsp; Yes, strange as it
+may seem, it was nevertheless true that, up to the moment of which I
+am speaking, I had never read a newspaper of any description.&nbsp;
+I of course had frequently seen journals, and even handled them; but,
+as for reading them, what were they to me?&nbsp; I cared not for news.&nbsp;
+But here I was now with my claret before me, perusing, perhaps, the
+best of all the London journals; it was not the -, and I was astonished:
+an entirely new field of literature appeared to be opened to my view.&nbsp;
+It was a discovery, but I confess rather an unpleasant one; for I said
+to myself, If literary talent is so very common in London, that the
+journals, things which, as their very name denotes, are ephemeral, are
+written in a style like the article I have been perusing, how can I
+hope to distinguish myself in this big town, when, for the life of me,
+I don&rsquo;t think I could write anything half so clever as what I
+have been reading?&nbsp; And then I laid down the paper, and fell into
+deep musing; rousing myself from which, I took a glass of wine, and,
+pouring out another, began musing again.&nbsp; What I have been reading,
+thought I, is certainly very clever and very talented; but talent and
+cleverness I think I have heard some one say are very commonplace things,
+only fitted for everyday occasions.&nbsp; I question whether the man
+who wrote the book I saw this day on the bridge was a clever man; but,
+after all, was he not something much better? I don&rsquo;t think he
+could have written this article, but then he wrote the book which I
+saw on the bridge.&nbsp; Then, if he could not have written the article
+on which I now hold my forefinger - and I do not believe he could -
+why should I feel discouraged at the consciousness that I, too, could
+not write it?&nbsp; I certainly could no more have written the article
+than he could; but then, like him, though I would not compare myself
+to the man who wrote the book I saw upon the bridge, I think I could
+- and here I emptied the glass of claret - write something better.<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon I resumed the newspaper; and, as I was before struck with
+the fluency of style and the general talent which it displayed, I was
+now equally so with its commonplaceness and want of originality on every
+subject; and it was evident to me that, whatever advantage these newspaper-writers
+might have over me in some points, they had never studied the Welsh
+bards, translated Kaempe Viser, or been under the pupilage of Mr. Petulengro
+and Tawno Chikno.<br>
+<br>
+And as I sat conning the newspaper three individuals entered the room,
+and seated themselves in the box at the farther end of which I was.&nbsp;
+They were all three very well dressed; two of them elderly gentlemen,
+the third a young man about my own age, or perhaps a year or two older:
+they called for coffee; and, after two or three observations, the two
+eldest commenced a conversation in French, which, however, though they
+spoke it fluently enough, I perceived at once was not their native language;
+the young man, however, took no part in their conversation, and when
+they addressed a portion to him, which indeed was but rarely, merely
+replied by a monosyllable.&nbsp; I have never been a listener, and I
+paid but little heed to their discourse, nor indeed to themselves; as
+I occasionally looked up, however, I could perceive that the features
+of the young man, who chanced to be seated exactly opposite to me, wore
+an air of constraint and vexation.&nbsp; This circumstance caused me
+to observe him more particularly than I otherwise should have done:
+his features were handsome and prepossessing; he had dark brown hair
+and a high-arched forehead.&nbsp; After the lapse of half an hour, the
+two elder individuals, having finished their coffee, called for the
+waiter, and then rose as if to depart, the young man, however, still
+remaining seated in the box.&nbsp; The others, having reached the door,
+turned round, and, finding that the youth did not follow them, one of
+them called to him with a tone of some authority; whereupon the young
+man rose, and, pronouncing half audibly the word &lsquo;botheration,&rsquo;
+rose and followed them.&nbsp; I now observed that he was remarkably
+tall.&nbsp; All three left the house.&nbsp; In about ten minutes, finding
+nothing more worth reading in the newspaper, I laid it down, and though
+the claret was not yet exhausted, I was thinking of betaking myself
+to my lodgings, and was about to call the waiter, when I heard a step
+in the passage, and in another moment the tall young man entered the
+room, advanced to the same box, and, sitting down nearly opposite to
+me, again pronounced to himself, but more audibly than before, the same
+word.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A troublesome world this, sir,&rsquo; said I, looking at him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the young man, looking fixedly at me; &lsquo;but
+I am afraid we bring most of our troubles on our own heads - at least
+I can say so of myself,&rsquo; he added, laughing.&nbsp; Then, after
+a pause, &lsquo;I beg pardon,&rsquo; he said, &lsquo;but am I not addressing
+one of my own country?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Of what country are you?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ireland.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am not of your country, sir; but I have an infinite veneration
+for your country, as Strap said to the French soldier.&nbsp; Will you
+take a glass of wine?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah, de tout mon coeur, as the parasite said to Gil Blas,&rsquo;
+cried the young man, laughing.&nbsp; &lsquo;Here&rsquo;s to our better
+acquaintance!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And better acquainted we soon became; and I found that, in making the
+acquaintance of the young man, I had indeed made a valuable acquisition;
+he was accomplished, highly connected, and bore the name of Francis
+Ardry.&nbsp; Frank and ardent he was, and in a very little time had
+told me much that related to himself, and in return I communicated a
+general outline of my own history; he listened with profound attention,
+but laughed heartily when I told him some particulars of my visit in
+the morning to the publisher, whom he had frequently heard of.<br>
+<br>
+We left the house together.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We shall soon see each other again,&rsquo; said he, as we separated
+at the door of my lodging.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Dine with the publisher - Religions - No animal food - Unprofitable
+discussions - Principles of criticism - The book market - Newgate lives
+- Goethe a drug - German acquirements - Moral dignity.<br>
+<br>
+On the Sunday I was punctual to my appointment to dine with the publisher.&nbsp;
+As I hurried along the square in which his house stood, my thoughts
+were fixed so intently on the great man, that I passed by him without
+seeing him.&nbsp; He had observed me, however, and joined me just as
+I was about to knock at the door.&nbsp; &lsquo;Let us take a turn in
+the square,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;we shall not dine for half an hour.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said he, as we were walking in the square, &lsquo;what
+have you been doing since I last saw you?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have been looking about London,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and I
+have bought the <i>Dairyman&rsquo;s Daughter</i>; here it is.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pray put it up,&rsquo; said the publisher; &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t
+want to look at such trash.&nbsp; Well, do you think you could write
+anything like it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How is that?&rsquo; said the publisher, looking at me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;the man who wrote it seems to
+be perfectly well acquainted with his subject; and, moreover, to write
+from the heart.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By the subject you mean - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Religion.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And ain&rsquo;t you acquainted with religion?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very little.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am sorry for that,&rsquo; said the publisher seriously, &lsquo;for
+he who sets up for an author ought to be acquainted not only with religion,
+but religions, and indeed with all subjects, like my good friend in
+the country.&nbsp; It is well that I have changed my mind about the
+<i>Dairyman&rsquo;s Daughter</i>, or I really don&rsquo;t know whom
+I could apply to on the subject at the present moment, unless to himself;
+and after all I question whether his style is exactly suited for an
+evangelical novel.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you do not wish for an imitation of the <i>Dairyman&rsquo;s</i>
+<i>Daughter</i>?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not, sir; I have changed my mind, as I told you before;
+I wish to employ you in another line, but will communicate to you my
+intentions after dinner.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+At dinner, beside the publisher and myself, were present his wife and
+son with his newly-married bride; the wife appeared a quiet respectable
+woman, and the young people looked very happy and good-natured; not
+so the publisher, who occasionally eyed both with contempt and dislike.&nbsp;
+Connected with this dinner there was one thing remarkable; the publisher
+took no animal food, but contented himself with feeding voraciously
+on rice and vegetables prepared in various ways.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You eat no animal food, sir?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not, sir,&rsquo; said he; &lsquo;I have forsworn it upwards
+of twenty years.&nbsp; In one respect, sir, I am a Brahmin.&nbsp; I
+abhor taking away life - the brutes have as much right to live as ourselves.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;if the brutes were not killed, there
+would be such a superabundance of them, that the land would be overrun
+with them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not think so, sir; few are killed in India, and yet there
+is plenty of room.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;Nature intended that they should be
+destroyed, and the brutes themselves prey upon one another, and it is
+well for themselves and the world that they do so.&nbsp; What would
+be the state of things if every insect, bird, and worm were left to
+perish of old age?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We will change the subject,&rsquo; said the publisher; &lsquo;I
+have never been a friend of unprofitable discussions.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I looked at the publisher with some surprise, I had not been accustomed
+to be spoken to so magisterially; his countenance was dressed in a portentous
+frown, and his eye looked more sinister than ever; at that moment he
+put me in mind of some of those despots of whom I had read in the history
+of Morocco, whose word was law.&nbsp; He merely wants power, thought
+I to myself, to be a regular Muley Mehemet; and then I sighed, for I
+remembered how very much I was in the power of that man.<br>
+<br>
+The dinner over, the publisher nodded to his wife, who departed, followed
+by her daughter-in-law.&nbsp; The son looked as if he would willingly
+have attended them; he, however, remained seated; and, a small decanter
+of wine being placed on the table, the publisher filled two glasses,
+one of which he handed to myself, and the other to his son; saying,
+&lsquo;Suppose you two drink to the success of the Review.&nbsp; I would
+join you,&rsquo; said he, addressing himself to me, &lsquo;but I drink
+no wine; if I am a Brahmin with respect to meat, I am a Mahometan with
+respect to wine.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+So the son and I drank success to the Review, and then the young man
+asked me various questions; for example - How I liked London? - Whether
+I did not think it a very fine place? - Whether I was at the play the
+night before? - and whether I was in the park that afternoon?&nbsp;
+He seemed preparing to ask me some more questions; but, receiving a
+furious look from his father, he became silent, filled himself a glass
+of wine, drank it off, looked at the table for about a minute, then
+got up, pushed back his chair, made me a bow, and left the room.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is that young gentleman, sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;well versed
+in the principles of criticism?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He is not, sir,&rsquo; said the publisher; &lsquo;and, if I place
+him at the head of the Review ostensibly, I do it merely in the hope
+of procuring him a maintenance; of the principle of a thing he knows
+nothing, except that the principle of bread is wheat, and that the principle
+of that wine is grape.&nbsp; Will you take another glass?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I looked at the decanter; but, not feeling altogether so sure as the
+publisher&rsquo;s son with respect to the principle of what it contained,
+I declined taking any more.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, sir,&rsquo; said the publisher, adjusting himself in his
+chair, &lsquo;he knows nothing about criticism, and will have nothing
+more to do with the reviewals than carrying about the books to those
+who have to review them; the real conductor of the Review will be a
+widely different person, to whom I will, when convenient, introduce
+you.&nbsp; And now we will talk of the matter which we touched upon
+before dinner: I told you then that I had changed my mind with respect
+to you; I have been considering the state of the market, sir, the book
+market, and I have come to the conclusion that, though you might be
+profitably employed upon evangelical novels, you could earn more money
+for me, sir, and consequently for yourself, by a compilation of Newgate
+lives and trials.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Newgate lives and trials!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, sir,&rsquo; said the publisher, &lsquo;Newgate lives and
+trials; and now, sir, I will briefly state to you the services which
+I expect you to perform, and the terms which I am willing to grant.&nbsp;
+I expect you, sir, to compile six volumes of Newgate lives and trials,
+each volume to contain by no manner of means less than one thousand
+pages; the remuneration which you will receive when the work is completed
+will be fifty pounds, which is likewise intended to cover any expenses
+you may incur in procuring books, papers, and manuscripts necessary
+for the compilation.&nbsp; Such will be one of your employments, sir,
+- such the terms.&nbsp; In the second place, you will be expected to
+make yourself useful in the Review - generally useful, sir - doing whatever
+is required of you; for it is not customary, at least with me, to permit
+writers, especially young writers, to choose their subjects.&nbsp; In
+these two departments, sir, namely compilation and reviewing, I had
+yesterday, after due consideration, determined upon employing you.&nbsp;
+I had intended to employ you no farther, sir - at least for the present;
+but, sir, this morning I received a letter from my valued friend in
+the country, in which he speaks in terms of strong admiration (I don&rsquo;t
+overstate) of your German acquirements.&nbsp; Sir, he says that it would
+be a thousand pities if your knowledge of the German language should
+be lost to the world, or even permitted to sleep, and he entreats me
+to think of some plan by which it may be turned to account.&nbsp; Sir,
+I am at all times willing, if possible, to oblige my worthy friend,
+and likewise to encourage merit and talent; I have, therefore, determined
+to employ you in German.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said I, rubbing my hands, &lsquo;you are very kind,
+and so is our mutual friend; I shall be happy to make myself useful
+in German; and if you think a good translation from Goethe - his <i>Sorrows</i>
+for example, or more particularly his <i>Faust</i> - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said the publisher, &lsquo;Goethe is a drug; his
+<i>Sorrows</i> are a drug, so is his <i>Faustus</i>, more especially
+the last, since that fool - rendered him into English.&nbsp; No, sir,
+I do not want you to translate Goethe or anything belonging to him;
+nor do I want you to translate anything from the German; what I want
+you to do, is to translate into German.&nbsp; I am willing to encourage
+merit, sir; and, as my good friend in his last letter has spoken very
+highly of your German acquirements, I have determined that you shall
+translate my book of philosophy into German.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Your book of philosophy into German, sir?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, sir; my book of philosophy into German.&nbsp; I am not a
+drug, sir, in Germany as Goethe is here, no more is my book.&nbsp; I
+intend to print the translation at Leipzig, sir; and if it turns out
+a profitable speculation, as I make no doubt it will, provided the translation
+be well executed, I will make you some remuneration.&nbsp; Sir, your
+remuneration will be determined by the success of your translation.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But, sir - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said the publisher, interrupting me, &lsquo;you have
+heard my intentions; I consider that you ought to feel yourself highly
+gratified by my intentions towards you; it is not frequently that I
+deal with a writer, especially a young writer, as I have done with you.&nbsp;
+And now, sir, permit me to inform you that I wish to be alone.&nbsp;
+This is Sunday afternoon, sir; I never go to church, but I am in the
+habit of spending part of every Sunday afternoon alone - profitably
+I hope, sir - in musing on the magnificence of nature and the moral
+dignity of man.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXIV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The two volumes - A young author - Intended editor - Quintilian - Loose
+money.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What can&rsquo;t be cured must be endured,&rsquo; and &lsquo;it
+is hard to kick against the pricks.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+At the period to which I have brought my history, I bethought me of
+the proverbs with which I have headed this chapter, and determined to
+act up to their spirit.&nbsp; I determined not to fly in the face of
+the publisher, and to bear - what I could not cure - his arrogance and
+vanity.&nbsp; At present, at the conclusion of nearly a quarter of a
+century, I am glad that I came to that determination, which I did my
+best to carry into effect<i>.<br>
+<br>
+</i>Two or three days after our last interview, the publisher made his
+appearance in my apartment; he bore two tattered volumes under his arm,
+which he placed on the table.&nbsp; &lsquo;I have brought you two volumes
+of lives, sir,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;which I yesterday found in my
+garret; you will find them of service for your compilation.&nbsp; As
+I always wish to behave liberally and encourage talent, especially youthful
+talent, I shall make no charge for them, though I should be justified
+in so doing, as you are aware that, by our agreement, you are to provide
+any books and materials which may be necessary.&nbsp; Have you been
+in quest of any?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;not yet.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then, sir, I would advise you to lose no time in doing so; you
+must visit all the bookstalls, sir, especially those in the by-streets
+and blind alleys.&nbsp; It is in such places that you will find the
+description of literature you are in want of.&nbsp; You must be up and
+doing, sir; it will not do for an author, especially a young author,
+to be idle in this town.&nbsp; To-night you will receive my book of
+philosophy, and likewise books for the Review.&nbsp; And, by the bye,
+sir, it will be as well for you to review my book of philosophy for
+the Review; the other reviews not having noticed it.&nbsp; Sir, before
+translating it, I wish you to review my book of philosophy for the Review.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I shall be happy to do my best, sir.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very good, sir; I should be unreasonable to expect anything beyond
+a person&rsquo;s best.&nbsp; And now, sir, if you please, I will conduct
+you to the future editor of the Review.&nbsp; As you are to co-operate,
+sir, I deem it right to make you acquainted.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The intended editor was a little old man, who sat in a kind of wooden
+pavilion in a small garden behind a house in one of the purlieus of
+the city, composing tunes upon a piano.&nbsp; The walls of the pavilion
+were covered with fiddles of various sizes and appearances, and a considerable
+portion of the floor occupied by a pile of books all of one size.&nbsp;
+The publisher introduced him to me as a gentleman scarcely less eminent
+in literature than in music, and me to him as an aspirant critic - a
+young gentleman scarcely less eminent in philosophy than in philology.&nbsp;
+The conversation consisted entirely of compliments till just before
+we separated, when the future editor inquired of me whether I had ever
+read Quintilian; and, on my replying in the negative, expressed his
+surprise that any gentleman should aspire to become a critic who had
+never read Quintilian, with the comfortable information, however, that
+he could supply me with a Quintilian at half-price, that is, a translation
+made by himself some years previously, of which he had, pointing to
+the heap on the floor, still a few copies remaining unsold.&nbsp; For
+some reason or other, perhaps a poor one, I did not purchase the editor&rsquo;s
+translation of Quintilian.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said the publisher, as we were returning from our
+visit to the editor, &lsquo;you did right in not purchasing a drug.&nbsp;
+I am not prepared, sir, to say that Quintilian is a drug, never having
+seen him; but I am prepared to say that man&rsquo;s translation is a
+drug, judging from the heap of rubbish on the floor; besides, sir, you
+will want any loose money you may have to purchase the description of
+literature which is required for your compilation.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The publisher presently paused before the entrance of a very forlorn-looking
+street.&nbsp; &lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said he, after looking down it with
+attention, &lsquo;I should not wonder if in that street you find works
+connected with the description of literature which is required for your
+compilation.&nbsp; It is in streets of this description, sir, and blind
+alleys, where such works are to be found.&nbsp; You had better search
+that street, sir, whilst I continue my way.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I searched the street to which the publisher had pointed, and, in the
+course of the three succeeding days, many others of a similar kind.&nbsp;
+I did not find the description of literature alluded to by the publisher
+to be a drug, but, on the contrary, both scarce and dear.&nbsp; I had
+expended much more than my loose money long before I could procure materials
+even for the first volume of my compilation.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Francis Ardry - Certain sharpers - Brave and eloquent - Opposites -
+Flinging the bones - Strange places - Dog-fighting - Learning and letters
+- Batch of dogs - Redoubled application.<br>
+<br>
+One evening I was visited by the tall young gentleman, Francis Ardry,
+whose acquaintance I had formed at the coffee-house.&nbsp; As it is
+necessary that the reader should know something more about this young
+man, who will frequently appear in the course of these pages, I will
+state in a few words who and what he was.&nbsp; He was born of an ancient
+Roman Catholic family in Ireland; his parents, whose only child he was,
+had long been dead.&nbsp; His father, who had survived his mother several
+years, had been a spendthrift, and at his death had left the family
+property considerably embarrassed.&nbsp; Happily, however, the son and
+the estate fell into the hands of careful guardians, near relations
+of the family, by whom the property was managed to the best advantage,
+and every means taken to educate the young man in a manner suitable
+to his expectations.&nbsp; At the age of sixteen he was taken from a
+celebrated school in England at which he had been placed, and sent to
+a small French university, in order that he might form an intimate and
+accurate acquaintance with the grand language of the continent.&nbsp;
+There he continued three years, at the end of which he went under the
+care of a French abb&eacute; to Germany and Italy.&nbsp; It was in this
+latter country that he first began to cause his guardians serious uneasiness.&nbsp;
+He was in the heyday of youth when he visited Italy, and he entered
+wildly into the various delights of that fascinating region, and, what
+was worse, falling into the hands of certain sharpers, not Italian,
+but English, he was fleeced of considerable sums of money.&nbsp; The
+abb&eacute;, who, it seems, was an excellent individual of the old French
+school, remonstrated with his pupil on his dissipation and extravagance;
+but, finding his remonstrances vain, very properly informed the guardians
+of the manner of life of his charge.&nbsp; They were not slow in commanding
+Francis Ardry home; and, as he was entirely in their power, he was forced
+to comply.&nbsp; He had been about three months in London when I met
+him in the coffee-room, and the two elderly gentlemen in his company
+were his guardians.&nbsp; At this time they were very solicitous that
+he should choose for himself a profession, offering to his choice either
+the army or law - he was calculated to shine in either of these professions
+- for, like many others of his countrymen, he was brave and eloquent;
+but he did not wish to shackle himself with a profession.&nbsp; As,
+however, his minority did not terminate till he was three-and-twenty,
+of which age he wanted nearly two years, during which he would be entirely
+dependent on his guardians, he deemed it expedient to conceal, to a
+certain degree, his sentiments, temporising with the old gentlemen,
+with whom, notwithstanding his many irregularities, he was a great favourite,
+and at whose death he expected to come into a yet greater property than
+that which he inherited from his parents.<br>
+<br>
+Such is a brief account of Francis Ardry - of my friend Francis Ardry;
+for the acquaintance, commenced in the singular manner with which the
+reader is acquainted, speedily ripened into a friendship which endured
+through many long years of separation, and which still endures certainly
+on my part, and on his - if he lives; but it is many years since I have
+heard from Francis Ardry.<br>
+<br>
+And yet many people would have thought it impossible for our friendship
+to have lasted a week - for in many respects no two people could be
+more dissimilar.&nbsp; He was an Irishman - I, an Englishman; - he,
+fiery, enthusiastic, and open-hearted; I, neither fiery, enthusiastic,
+nor open-hearted; - he, fond of pleasure and dissipation; I, of study
+and reflection.&nbsp; Yet it is of such dissimilar elements that the
+most lasting friendships are formed: we do not like counterparts of
+ourselves.&nbsp; &lsquo;Two great talkers will not travel far together,&rsquo;
+is a Spanish saying; I will add, &lsquo;Nor two silent people&rsquo;;
+we naturally love our opposites.<br>
+<br>
+So Francis Ardry came to see me, and right glad I was to see him, for
+I had just flung my books and papers aside, and was wishing for a little
+social converse; and when we had conversed for some little time together,
+Francis Ardry proposed that we should go to the play to see Kean; so
+we went to the play, and saw - not Kean, who at that time was ashamed
+to show himself, but - a man who was not ashamed to show himself, and
+who people said was a much better man than Kean - as I have no doubt
+he was - though whether he was a better actor I cannot say, for I never
+saw Kean.<br>
+<br>
+Two or three evenings after Francis Ardry came to see me again, and
+again we went out together, and Francis Ardry took me to - shall I say?
+- why not? - a gaming-house, where I saw people playing, and where I
+saw Francis Ardry play and lose five guineas, and where I lost nothing,
+because I did not play, though I felt somewhat inclined; for a man with
+a white hat and a sparkling eye held up a box which contained something
+which rattled, and asked me to fling the bones.&nbsp; &lsquo;There is
+nothing like flinging the bones!&rsquo; said he, and then I thought
+I should like to know what kind of thing flinging the bones was; I,
+however, restrained myself.&nbsp; &lsquo;There is nothing like flinging
+the bones!&rsquo; shouted the man, as my friend and myself left the
+room.<br>
+<br>
+Long life and prosperity to Francis Ardry! but for him I should not
+have obtained knowledge which I did of the strange and eccentric places
+of London.&nbsp; Some of the places to which he took me were very strange
+places indeed; but, however strange the places were, I observed that
+the inhabitants thought there were no places like their several places,
+and no occupations like their several occupations; and among other strange
+places to which Francis Ardry conducted me was a place not far from
+the abbey church of Westminster.<br>
+<br>
+Before we entered this place our ears were greeted by a confused hubbub
+of human voices, squealing of rats, barking of dogs, and the cries of
+various other animals.&nbsp; Here we beheld a kind of cock-pit, around
+which a great many people, seeming of all ranks, but chiefly of the
+lower, were gathered, and in it we saw a dog destroy a great many rats
+in a very small period; and when the dog had destroyed the rats, we
+saw a fight between a dog and a bear, then a fight between two dogs,
+then . . . .<br>
+<br>
+After the diversions of the day were over, my friend introduced me to
+the genius of the place, a small man of about five feet high, with a
+very sharp countenance, and dressed in a brown jockey coat and top boots.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Joey,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;this is a friend of mine.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Joey nodded to me with a patronising air.&nbsp; &lsquo;Glad to see you,
+sir! - want a dog?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You have got one, then - want to match him?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We have a dog at home,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;in the country;
+but I can&rsquo;t say I should like to match him.&nbsp; Indeed, I do
+not like dog-fighting.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not like dog-fighting!&rsquo; said the man, staring.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The truth is, Joe, that he is just come to town.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So I should think; he looks rather green - not like dog-fighting!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nothing like it, is there, Joey?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I should think not; what is like it?&nbsp; A time will come,
+and that speedily, when folks will give up everything else, and follow
+dog-fighting.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you think so?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Think so?&nbsp; Let me ask what there is that a man wouldn&rsquo;t
+give up for it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why,&rsquo; said I, modestly, &lsquo;there&rsquo;s religion.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Religion!&nbsp; How you talk.&nbsp; Why, there&rsquo;s myself
+bred and born an Independent, and intended to be a preacher, didn&rsquo;t
+I give up religion for dog-fighting?&nbsp; Religion, indeed!&nbsp; If
+it were not for the rascally law, my pit would fill better on Sundays
+than any other time.&nbsp; Who would go to church when they could come
+to my pit?&nbsp; Religion! why, the parsons themselves come to my pit;
+and I have now a letter in my pocket from one of them, asking me to
+send him a dog.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, then, politics,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Politics!&nbsp; Why, the gemmen in the House would leave Pitt
+himself, if he were alive, to come to my pit.&nbsp; There were three
+of the best of them here to-night, all great horators. - Get on with
+you, what comes next?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, there&rsquo;s learning and letters.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pretty things, truly, to keep people from dog-fighting.&nbsp;
+Why, there&rsquo;s the young gentlemen from the Abbey School comes here
+in shoals, leaving books, and letters, and masters too.&nbsp; To tell
+you the truth, I rather wish they would mind their letters, for a more
+precious set of young blackguards I never seed.&nbsp; It was only the
+other day I was thinking of calling in a constable for my own protection,
+for I thought my pit would have been torn down by them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Scarcely knowing what to say, I made an observation at random.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;You show, by your own conduct,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that there
+are other things worth following besides dog-fighting.&nbsp; You practise
+rat-catching and badger-baiting as well.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The dog-fancier eyed me with supreme contempt.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Your friend here,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;might well call you
+a new one.&nbsp; When I talks of dog-fighting, I of course means rat-catching,
+and badger-baiting, ay, and bull-baiting too, just as when I speaks
+religiously, when I says one I means not one but three.&nbsp; And talking
+of religion puts me in mind that I have something else to do besides
+chaffing here, having a batch of dogs to send off by this night&rsquo;s
+packet to the Pope of Rome.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But at last I had seen enough of what London had to show, whether strange
+or commonplace, so at least I thought, and I ceased to accompany my
+friend in his rambles about town, and to partake of his adventures.&nbsp;
+Our friendship, however, still continued unabated, though I saw, in
+consequence, less of him.&nbsp; I reflected that time was passing on
+- that the little money I had brought to town was fast consuming, and
+that I had nothing to depend upon but my own exertions for a fresh supply;
+and I returned with redoubled application to my pursuits.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXVI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Occupations - Traduttore traditore - Ode to the Mist - Apple and pear
+- Reviewing - Current literature - Oxford-like manner - A plain story
+- Ill-regulated mind - Unsnuffed candle - Strange dreams.<br>
+<br>
+I compiled the Chronicles of Newgate; I reviewed books for the Review
+established on an entirely new principle; and I occasionally tried my
+best to translate into German portions of the publisher&rsquo;s philosophy.&nbsp;
+In this last task I experienced more than one difficulty.&nbsp; I was
+a tolerable German scholar, it is true, and I had long been able to
+translate from German into English with considerable facility; but to
+translate from a foreign language into your own is a widely different
+thing from translating from your own into a foreign language; and, in
+my first attempt to render the publisher into German, I was conscious
+of making miserable failures, from pure ignorance of German grammar;
+however, by the assistance of grammars and dictionaries, and by extreme
+perseverance, I at length overcame all the difficulties connected with
+the German language.&nbsp; But, alas! another difficulty remained, far
+greater than any connected with German - a difficulty connected with
+the language of the publisher - the language which the great man employed
+in his writings was very hard to understand; I say in his writings -
+for his colloquial English was plain enough.&nbsp; Though not professing
+to be a scholar, he was much addicted, when writing, to the use of Greek
+and Latin terms, not as other people used them, but in a manner of his
+own, which set the authority of dictionaries at defiance; the consequence
+was that I was sometimes utterly at a loss to understand the meaning
+of the publisher.&nbsp; Many a quarter of an hour did I pass at this
+period, staring at periods of the publisher, and wondering what he could
+mean, but in vain, till at last, with a shake of the head, I would snatch
+up the pen, and render the publisher literally into German.&nbsp; Sometimes
+I was almost tempted to substitute something of my own for what the
+publisher had written, but my conscience interposed; the awful words,
+Traduttore traditore, commenced ringing in my ears, and I asked myself
+whether I should be acting honourably towards the publisher, who had
+committed to me the delicate task of translating him into German; should
+I be acting honourably towards him, in making him speak in German in
+a manner different from that in which he expressed himself in English?&nbsp;
+No, I could not reconcile such conduct with any principle of honour;
+by substituting something of my own in lieu of these mysterious passages
+of the publisher, I might be giving a fatal blow to his whole system
+of philosophy.&nbsp; Besides, when translating into English, had I treated
+foreign authors in this manner?&nbsp; Had I treated the minstrels of
+the Kaempe Viser in this manner? - No.&nbsp; Had I treated Ab Gwilym
+in this manner?&nbsp; Even when translating his Ode to the Mist, in
+which he is misty enough, had I attempted to make Ab Gwilym less misty?&nbsp;
+No; on referring to my translation, I found that Ab Gwilym in my hands
+was quite as misty as in his own.&nbsp; Then, seeing that I had not
+ventured to take liberties with people who had never put themselves
+into my hands for the purpose of being rendered, how could I venture
+to substitute my own thoughts and ideas for the publisher&rsquo;s, who
+had put himself into my hands for that purpose?&nbsp; Forbid it every
+proper feeling! - so I told the Germans, in the publisher&rsquo;s own
+way, the publisher&rsquo;s tale of an apple and a pear.<br>
+<br>
+I at first felt much inclined to be of the publisher&rsquo;s opinion
+with respect to the theory of the pear.&nbsp; After all, why should
+the earth be shaped like an apple, and not like a pear? - it would certainly
+gain in appearance by being shaped like a pear.&nbsp; A pear being a
+handsomer fruit than an apple, the publisher is probably right, thought
+I, and I will say that he is right on this point in the notice which
+I am about to write of his publication for the Review.&nbsp; And yet
+I don&rsquo;t know - said I, after a long fit of musing - I don&rsquo;t
+know but what there is more to be said for the Oxford theory.&nbsp;
+The world may be shaped like a pear, but I don&rsquo;t know that it
+is; but one thing I know, which is, that it does not taste like a pear;
+I have always liked pears, but I don&rsquo;t like the world.&nbsp; The
+world to me tastes much more like an apple, and I have never liked apples.&nbsp;
+I will uphold the Oxford theory - besides, I am writing in an Oxford
+Review, and am in duty bound to uphold the Oxford theory.&nbsp; So in
+my notice I asserted that the world was round; I quoted Scripture, and
+endeavoured to prove that the world was typified by the apple in Scripture,
+both as to shape and properties.&nbsp; &lsquo;An apple is round,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;and the world is round - the apple is a sour, disagreeable
+fruit; and who has tasted much of the world without having his teeth
+set on edge?&rsquo;&nbsp; I, however, treated the publisher, upon the
+whole, in the most urbane and Oxford-like manner; complimenting him
+upon his style, acknowledging the general soundness of his views, and
+only differing with him in the affair of the apple and pear.<br>
+<br>
+I did not like reviewing at all - it was not to my taste; it was not
+in my way; I liked it far less than translating the publisher&rsquo;s
+philosophy, for that was something in the line of one whom a competent
+judge had surnamed Lavengro.&nbsp; I never could understand why reviews
+were instituted; works of merit do not require to be reviewed, they
+can speak for themselves, and require no praising; works of no merit
+at all will die of themselves, they require no killing.&nbsp; The Review
+to which I was attached was, as has been already intimated, established
+on an entirely new plan; it professed to review all new publications,
+which certainly no Review had ever professed to do before, other Reviews
+never pretending to review more than one-tenth of the current literature
+of the day.&nbsp; When I say it professed to review all new publications,
+I should add, which should be sent to it; for, of course, the Review
+would not acknowledge the existence of publications, the authors of
+which did not acknowledge the existence of the Review.&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t
+think, however, that the Review had much cause to complain of being
+neglected; I have reason to believe that at least nine-tenths of the
+publications of the day were sent to the Review, and in due time reviewed.&nbsp;
+I had good opportunity of judging - I was connected with several departments
+of the Review, though more particularly with the poetical and philosophic
+ones.&nbsp; An English translation of Kant&rsquo;s philosophy made its
+appearance on my table the day before its publication.&nbsp; In my notice
+of this work I said that the English shortly hoped to give the Germans
+a <i>quid pro quo</i>.&nbsp; I believe at that time authors were much
+in the habit of publishing at their own expense.&nbsp; All the poetry
+which I reviewed appeared to be published at the expense of the authors.&nbsp;
+If I am asked how I comported myself, under all circumstances, as a
+reviewer - I answer, - I did not forget that I was connected with a
+Review established on Oxford principles, the editor of which had translated
+Quintilian.&nbsp; All the publications which fell under my notice I
+treated in a gentlemanly and Oxford-like manner, no personalities -
+no vituperation - no shabby insinuations; decorum, decorum was the order
+of the day.&nbsp; Occasionally a word of admonition, but gently expressed,
+as an Oxford undergraduate might have expressed it, or master of arts.&nbsp;
+How the authors whose publications were consigned to my colleagues were
+treated by them I know not; I suppose they were treated in an urbane
+and Oxford-like manner, but I cannot say; I did not read the reviewals
+of my colleagues, I did not read my own after they were printed.&nbsp;
+I did not like reviewing.<br>
+<br>
+Of all my occupations at this period I am free to confess I liked that
+of compiling the <i>Newgate Lives and Trials</i> the best; that is,
+after I had surmounted a kind of prejudice which I originally entertained.&nbsp;
+The trials were entertaining enough; but the lives - how full were they
+of wild and racy adventures, and in what racy, genuine language were
+they told!&nbsp; What struck me most with respect to these lives was
+the art which the writers, whoever they were, possessed of telling a
+plain story.&nbsp; It is no easy thing to tell a story plainly and distinctly
+by mouth; but to tell one on paper is difficult indeed, so many snares
+lie in the way.&nbsp; People are afraid to put down what is common on
+paper, they seek to embellish their narratives, as they think, by philosophic
+speculations and reflections; they are anxious to shine, and people
+who are anxious to shine can never tell a plain story.&nbsp; &lsquo;So
+I went with them to a music booth, where they made me almost drunk with
+gin, and began to talk their flash language, which I did not understand,&rsquo;
+says, or is made to say, Henry Simms, executed at Tyburn some seventy
+years before the time of which I am speaking.&nbsp; I have always looked
+upon this sentence as a masterpiece of the narrative style, it is so
+concise and yet so very clear.&nbsp; As I gazed on passages like this,
+and there were many nearly as good in the Newgate lives, I often sighed
+that it was not my fortune to have to render these lives into German
+rather than the publisher&rsquo;s philosophy - his tale of an apple
+and pear.<br>
+<br>
+Mine was an ill-regulated mind at this period.&nbsp; As I read over
+the lives of these robbers and pickpockets, strange doubts began to
+arise in my mind about virtue and crime.&nbsp; Years before, when quite
+a boy, as in one of the early chapters I have hinted, I had been a necessitarian;
+I had even written an essay on crime (I have it now before me, penned
+in a round boyish hand), in which I attempted to prove that there is
+no such thing as crime or virtue, all our actions being the result of
+circumstances or necessity.&nbsp; These doubts were now again reviving
+in my mind; I could not, for the life of me, imagine how, taking all
+circumstances into consideration, these highwaymen, these pickpockets,
+should have been anything else than highwaymen and pickpockets; any
+more than how, taking all circumstances into consideration, Bishop Latimer
+(the reader is aware that I had read Foxe&rsquo;s <i>Book of Martyrs</i>)
+should have been anything else than Bishop Latimer.&nbsp; I had a very
+ill-regulated mind at that period.<br>
+<br>
+My own peculiar ideas with respect to everything being a lying dream
+began also to revive.&nbsp; Sometimes at midnight, after having toiled
+for hours at my occupations, I would fling myself back on my chair,
+look about the poor apartment, dimly lighted by an unsnuffed candle,
+or upon the heaps of books and papers before me, and exclaim, - &lsquo;Do
+I exist?&nbsp; Do these things, which I think I see about me, exist,
+or do they not?&nbsp; Is not everything a dream - a deceitful dream?&nbsp;
+Is not this apartment a dream - the furniture a dream?&nbsp; The publisher
+a dream - his philosophy a dream?&nbsp; Am I not myself a dream - dreaming
+about translating a dream?&nbsp; I can&rsquo;t see why all should not
+be a dream; what&rsquo;s the use of the reality?&rsquo;&nbsp; And then
+I would pinch myself, and snuff the burdened smoky light.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+can&rsquo;t see, for the life of me, the use of all this; therefore
+why should I think that it exists?&nbsp; If there was a chance, a probability,
+of all this tending to anything, I might believe; but - &rsquo; and
+then I would stare and think, and after some time shake my head and
+return again to my occupations for an hour or two; and then I would
+perhaps shake, and shiver, and yawn, and look wistfully in the direction
+of my sleeping apartment; and then, but not wistfully, at the papers
+and books before me; and sometimes I would return to my papers and books;
+but oftener I would arise, and, after another yawn and shiver, take
+my light, and proceed to my sleeping chamber.<br>
+<br>
+They say that light fare begets light dreams; my fare at that time was
+light enough; but I had anything but light dreams, for at that period
+I had all kind of strange and extravagant dreams, and amongst other
+things I dreamt that the whole world had taken to dog-fighting; and
+that I, myself, had taken to dog-fighting, and that in a vast circus
+I backed an English bulldog against the bloodhound of the Pope of Rome.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXVII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+My brother - Fits of crying - Mayor-elect - The committee - The Norman
+arch - A word of Greek - Church and State - At my own expense - If you
+please.<br>
+<br>
+One morning I arose somewhat later than usual, having been occupied
+during the greater part of the night with my literary toil.&nbsp; On
+descending from my chamber into the sitting-room I found a person seated
+by the fire, whose glance was directed sideways to the table, on which
+were the usual preparations for my morning&rsquo;s meal.&nbsp; Forthwith
+I gave a cry, and sprang forward to embrace the person; for the person
+by the fire, whose glance was directed to the table, was no one else
+than my brother.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And how are things going on at home?&rsquo; said I to my brother,
+after we had kissed and embraced.&nbsp; &lsquo;How is my mother, and
+how is the dog?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My mother, thank God, is tolerably well,&rsquo; said my brother,
+&lsquo;but very much given to fits of crying.&nbsp; As for the dog,
+he is not so well; but we will talk more of these matters anon,&rsquo;
+said my brother, again glancing at the breakfast things: &lsquo;I am
+very hungry, as you may suppose, after having travelled all night.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon I exerted myself to the best of my ability to perform the
+duties of hospitality, and I made my brother welcome - I may say more
+than welcome; and, when the rage of my brother&rsquo;s hunger was somewhat
+abated, we recommenced talking about the matters of our little family,
+and my brother told me much about my mother; he spoke of her fits of
+crying, but said that of late the said fits of crying had much diminished,
+and she appeared to be taking comfort; and, if I am not much mistaken,
+my brother told me that my mother had of late the Prayer-book frequently
+in her hand, and yet oftener the Bible.<br>
+<br>
+We were silent for a time - at last I opened my mouth and mentioned
+the dog.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The dog,&rsquo; said my brother, &lsquo;is, I am afraid, in a
+very poor way; ever since the death he has done nothing but pine and
+take on.&nbsp; A few months ago, you remember, he was as plump and fine
+as any dog in the town; but at present he is little more than skin and
+bone.&nbsp; Once we lost him for two days, and never expected to see
+him again, imagining that some mischance had befallen him; at length
+I found him - where do you think?&nbsp; Chancing to pass by the churchyard,
+I found him seated on the grave!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very strange,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but let us talk of something
+else.&nbsp; It was very kind of you to come and see me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, as for that matter, I did not come up to see you, though
+of course I am very glad to see you, having been rather anxious about
+you, like my mother, who has received only one letter from you since
+your departure.&nbsp; No, I did not come up on purpose to see you; but
+on quite a different account.&nbsp; You must know that the corporation
+of our town have lately elected a new mayor, a person of many qualifications
+- big and portly, with a voice like Boanerges; a religious man, the
+possessor of an immense pew; loyal, so much so that I once heard him
+say that he would at any time go three miles to hear any one sing &ldquo;God
+save the King&rdquo;; moreover, a giver of excellent dinners.&nbsp;
+Such is our present mayor; who, owing to his loyalty, his religion,
+and a little, perhaps, to his dinners, is a mighty favourite; so much
+so that the town is anxious to have his portrait painted in a superior
+style, so that remote posterity may know what kind of man he was, the
+colour of his hair, his air and gait.&nbsp; So a committee was formed
+some time ago, which is still sitting; that is, they dine with the mayor
+every day to talk over the subject.&nbsp; A few days since, to my great
+surprise, they made their appearance in my poor studio, and desired
+to be favoured with a sight of some of my paintings; well, I showed
+them some, and, after looking at them with great attention, they went
+aside and whispered.&nbsp; &ldquo;He&rsquo;ll do,&rdquo; I heard one
+say; &ldquo;Yes, he&rsquo;ll do,&rdquo; said another; and then they
+came to me, and one of them, a little man with a hump on his back, who
+is a watchmaker, assumed the office of spokesman, and made a long speech
+- (the old town has been always celebrated for orators) - in which he
+told me how much they had been pleased with my productions - (the old
+town has been always celebrated for its artistic taste) - and, what
+do you think? offered me the painting of the mayor&rsquo;s portrait,
+and a hundred pounds for my trouble.&nbsp; Well, of course I was much
+surprised, and for a minute or two could scarcely speak; recovering
+myself, however, I made a speech, not so eloquent as that of the watchmaker
+of course, being not so accustomed to speaking; but not so bad either,
+taking everything into consideration, telling them how flattered I felt
+by the honour which they had conferred in proposing to me such an undertaking;
+expressing, however, my fears that I was not competent to the task,
+and concluding by saying what a pity it was that Crome was dead.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Crome,&rdquo; said the little man, &ldquo;Crome; yes, he was
+a clever man, a very clever man in his way; he was good at painting
+landscapes and farm-houses, but he would not do in the present instance
+were he alive.&nbsp; He had no conception of the heroic, sir.&nbsp;
+We want some person capable of representing our mayor striding under
+the Norman arch out of the cathedral.&rdquo;&nbsp; At the mention of
+the heroic an idea came at once into my head.&nbsp; &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo;
+said I, &ldquo;if you are in quest of the heroic, I am glad that you
+came to me; don&rsquo;t mistake me,&rdquo; I continued, &ldquo;I do
+not mean to say that I could do justice to your subject, though I am
+fond of the heroic; but I can introduce you to a great master of the
+heroic, fully competent to do justice to your mayor.&nbsp; Not to me,
+therefore, be the painting of the picture given, but to a friend of
+mine, the great master of the heroic, to the best, the strongest, &pi;&omega;
+&kappa;&rho;&alpha;&tau;&iota;&sigma;&tau;&omega;&rdquo; I added, for,
+being amongst orators, I thought a word of Greek would tell.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and what did the orators say?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They gazed dubiously at me and at one another,&rsquo; said my
+brother; &lsquo;at last the watchmaker asked me who this Mr. Christo
+was; adding, that he had never heard of such a person; that, from my
+recommendation of him, he had no doubt that he was a very clever man;
+but that they should like to know something more about him before giving
+the commission to him.&nbsp; That he had heard of Christie the great
+auctioneer, who was considered to be an excellent judge of pictures;
+but he supposed that I scarcely - Whereupon, interrupting the watchmaker,
+I told him that I alluded neither to Christo nor to Christie; but to
+the painter of Lazarus rising from the grave, a painter under whom I
+had myself studied during some months that I had spent in London, and
+to whom I was indebted for much connected with the heroic.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&ldquo;I have heard of him,&rdquo; said the watchmaker, &ldquo;and
+his paintings too; but I am afraid that he is not exactly the gentleman
+by whom our mayor would wish to be painted.&nbsp; I have heard say that
+he is not a very good friend to Church and State.&nbsp; Come, young
+man,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;it appears to me that you are too modest;
+I like your style of painting, so do we all, and - why should I mince
+the matter? - the money is to be collected in the town, why should it
+go into a stranger&rsquo;s pocket, and be spent in London?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thereupon I made them a speech, in which I said that art had
+nothing to do with Church and State, at least with English Church and
+State, which had never encouraged it; and that, though Church and State
+were doubtless very fine things, a man might be a very good artist who
+cared not a straw for either.&nbsp; I then made use of some more Greek
+words, and told them how painting was one of the Nine Muses, and one
+of the most independent creatures alive, inspiring whom she pleased,
+and asking leave of nobody; that I should be quite unworthy of the favours
+of the Muse if, on the present occasion, I did not recommend them a
+man whom I considered to be a much greater master of the heroic than
+myself; and that, with regard to the money being spent in the city,
+I had no doubt that they would not weigh for a moment such a consideration
+against the chance of getting a true heroic picture for the city.&nbsp;
+I never talked so well in my life, and said so many flattering things
+to the hunchback and his friends, that at last they said that I should
+have my own way; and that if I pleased to go up to London, and bring
+down the painter of Lazarus to paint the mayor, I might; so they then
+bade me farewell, and I have come up to London.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To put a hundred pounds into the hands of - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A better man than myself,&rsquo; said my brother, &lsquo;of course.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And have you come up at your own expense?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said my brother, &lsquo;I have come up at my own
+expense.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I made no answer, but looked in my brother&rsquo;s face.&nbsp; We then
+returned to the former subjects of conversation, talking of the dead,
+my mother, and the dog.<br>
+<br>
+After some time my brother said, &lsquo;I will now go to the painter,
+and communicate to him the business which has brought me to town; and,
+if you please, I will take you with me and introduce you to him.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Having expressed my willingness, we descended into the street.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXVIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Painter of the heroic - I&rsquo;ll go! - A modest peep - Who is this?
+- A capital Pharaoh - Disproportionably short - Imaginary picture -
+English figures.<br>
+<br>
+The painter of the heroic resided a great way off, at the western end
+of the town.&nbsp; We had some difficulty in obtaining admission to
+him; a maid-servant, who opened the door, eyeing us somewhat suspiciously:
+it was not until my brother had said that he was a friend of the painter
+that we were permitted to pass the threshold.&nbsp; At length we were
+shown into the studio, where we found the painter, with an easel and
+brush, standing before a huge piece of canvas, on which he had lately
+commenced painting a heroic picture.&nbsp; The painter might be about
+thirty-five years old; he had a clever, intelligent countenance, with
+a sharp gray eye - his hair was dark brown, and cut &agrave;-la-Rafael,
+as I was subsequently told, that is, there was little before and much
+behind - he did not wear a neck-cloth; but, in its stead, a black riband,
+so that his neck, which was rather fine, was somewhat exposed - he had
+a broad, muscular breast, and I make no doubt that he would have been
+a very fine figure, but unfortunately his legs and thighs were somewhat
+short.&nbsp; He recognised my brother, and appeared glad to see him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What brings you to London?&rsquo; said he.<br>
+<br>
+Whereupon my brother gave him a brief account of his commission.&nbsp;
+At the mention of the hundred pounds, I observed the eyes of the painter
+glisten.&nbsp; &lsquo;Really,&rsquo; said he, when my brother had concluded,
+&lsquo;it was very kind to think of me.&nbsp; I am not very fond of
+painting portraits; but a mayor is a mayor, and there is something grand
+in that idea of the Norman arch.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll go; moreover, I am
+just at this moment confoundedly in need of money, and when you knocked
+at the door, I don&rsquo;t mind telling you, I thought it was some dun.&nbsp;
+I don&rsquo;t know how it is, but in the capital they have no taste
+for the heroic, they will scarce look at a heroic picture; I am glad
+to hear that they have better taste in the provinces.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll
+go; when shall we set off?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon it was arranged between the painter and my brother that they
+should depart the next day but one; they then began to talk of art.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;ll stick to the heroic,&rsquo; said the painter; &lsquo;I
+now and then dabble in the comic, but what I do gives me no pleasure,
+the comic is so low; there is nothing like the heroic.&nbsp; I am engaged
+here on a heroic picture,&rsquo; said he, pointing to the canvas; &lsquo;the
+subject is &ldquo;Pharaoh dismissing Moses from Egypt,&rdquo; after
+the last plague - the death of the first-born; it is not far advanced
+- that finished figure is Moses&rsquo;: they both looked at the canvas,
+and I, standing behind, took a modest peep.&nbsp; The picture, as the
+painter said, was not far advanced, the Pharaoh was merely in outline;
+my eye was, of course, attracted by the finished figure, or rather what
+the painter had called the finished figure; but, as I gazed upon it,
+it appeared to me that there was something defective - something unsatisfactory
+in the figure.&nbsp; I concluded, however, that the painter, notwithstanding
+what he had said, had omitted to give it the finishing touch.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I intend this to be my best picture,&rsquo; said the painter;
+&lsquo;what I want now is a face for Pharaoh; I have long been meditating
+on a face for Pharaoh.&rsquo;&nbsp; Here, chancing to cast his eye upon
+my countenance, of whom he had scarcely taken any manner of notice,
+he remained with his mouth open for some time.&nbsp; &lsquo;Who is this?&rsquo;
+said he at last.&nbsp; &lsquo;Oh, this is my brother, I forgot to introduce
+him.&rsquo; . . .<br>
+<br>
+We presently afterwards departed; my brother talked much about the painter.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;He is a noble fellow,&rsquo; said my brother; &lsquo;but, like
+many other noble fellows, has a great many enemies; he is hated by his
+brethren of the brush - all the land and water scape painters hate him
+- but, above all, the race of portrait-painters, who are ten times more
+numerous than the other two sorts, detest him for his heroic tendencies.&nbsp;
+It will be a kind of triumph to the last, I fear, when they hear he
+has condescended to paint a portrait; however, that Norman arch will
+enable him to escape from their malice - that is a capital idea of the
+watchmaker, that Norman arch.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I spent a happy day with my brother.&nbsp; On the morrow he went again
+to the painter, with whom he dined; I did not go with him.&nbsp; On
+his return he said, &lsquo;The painter has been asking a great many
+questions about you, and expressed a wish that you would sit to him
+as Pharaoh; he thinks you would make a capital Pharaoh.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I have no wish to appear on canvas,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;moreover
+he can find much better Pharaohs than myself; and, if he wants a real
+Pharaoh, there is a certain Mr. Petulengro.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Petulengro?&rsquo;
+said my brother; &lsquo;a strange kind of fellow came up to me some
+time ago in our town, and asked me about you; when I inquired his name,
+he told me Petulengro.&nbsp; No, he will not do, he is too short; by
+the bye, do you not think that figure of Moses is somewhat short?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+And then it appeared to me that I had thought the figure of Moses somewhat
+short, and I told my brother so.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah!&rsquo; said my brother.<br>
+<br>
+On the morrow my brother departed with the painter for the old town,
+and there the painter painted the mayor.&nbsp; I did not see the picture
+for a great many years, when, chancing to be at the old town, I beheld
+it.<br>
+<br>
+The original mayor was a mighty, portly man, with a bull&rsquo;s head,
+black hair, body like that of a dray horse, and legs and thighs corresponding;
+a man six foot high at the least.&nbsp; To his bull&rsquo;s head, black
+hair, and body the painter had done justice; there was one point, however,
+in which the portrait did not correspond with the original - the legs
+were disproportionably short, the painter having substituted his own
+legs for those of the mayor, which when I perceived I rejoiced that
+I had not consented to be painted as Pharaoh, for, if I had, the chances
+are that he would have served me in exactly a similar way as he had
+served Moses and the mayor.<br>
+<br>
+Short legs in a heroic picture will never do; and, upon the whole, I
+think the painter&rsquo;s attempt at the heroic in painting the mayor
+of the old town a decided failure.&nbsp; If I am now asked whether the
+picture would have been a heroic one provided the painter had not substituted
+his own legs for those of the mayor - I must say, I am afraid not.&nbsp;
+I have no idea of making heroic pictures out of English mayors, even
+with the assistance of Norman arches; yet I am sure that capital pictures
+might be made out of English mayors, not issuing from Norman arches,
+but rather from the door of the &lsquo;Checquers&rsquo; or the &lsquo;Brewers
+Three.&rsquo;&nbsp; The painter in question had great comic power, which
+he scarcely ever cultivated; he would fain be a Rafael, which he never
+could be, when he might have been something quite as good - another
+Hogarth; the only comic piece which he ever presented to the world being
+something little inferior to the best of that illustrious master.&nbsp;
+I have often thought what a capital picture might have been made by
+my brother&rsquo;s friend, if, instead of making the mayor issue out
+of the Norman arch, he had painted him moving under the sign of the
+&lsquo;Checquers,&rsquo; or the &lsquo;Three Brewers,&rsquo; with mace
+- yes, with mace, - the mace appears in the picture issuing out of the
+Norman arch behind the mayor, - but likewise with Snap, and with whiffler,
+quart pot, and frying-pan, Billy Blind and Owlenglass, Mr. Petulengro
+and Pakomovna; - then, had he clapped his own legs upon the mayor, or
+any one else in the concourse, what matter?&nbsp; But I repeat that
+I have no hope of making heroic pictures out of English mayors, or,
+indeed, out of English figures in general.&nbsp; England may be a land
+of heroic hearts, but it is not, properly, a land of heroic figures,
+or heroic posture-making.&nbsp; Italy . . . what was I going to say
+about Italy?<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXIX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+No authority whatever - Interference - Wondrous farrago - Brandt and
+Struensee - What a life! - The hearse - Mortal relics - Great poet -
+Fashion and fame - What a difference - Oh, beautiful - Good for nothing.<br>
+<br>
+And now once more to my pursuits, to my Lives and Trials.&nbsp; However
+partial at first I might be to these lives and trials, it was not long
+before they became regular trials to me, owing to the whims and caprices
+of the publisher.&nbsp; I had not been long connected with him before
+I discovered that he was wonderfully fond of interfering with other
+people&rsquo;s business - at least with the business of those who were
+under his control.&nbsp; What a life did his unfortunate authors lead!&nbsp;
+He had many in his employ toiling at all kinds of subjects - I call
+them authors because there is something respectable in the term author,
+though they had little authorship in, and no authority whatever over,
+the works on which they were engaged.&nbsp; It is true the publisher
+interfered with some colour of reason, the plan of all and every of
+the works alluded to having originated with himself; and, be it observed,
+many of his plans were highly clever and promising, for, as I have already
+had occasion to say, the publisher in many points was a highly clever
+and sagacious person; but he ought to have been contented with planning
+the works originally, and have left to other people the task of executing
+them, instead of which he marred everything by his rage for interference.&nbsp;
+If a book of fairy tales was being compiled, he was sure to introduce
+some of his philosophy, explaining the fairy tale by some theory of
+his own.&nbsp; Was a book of anecdotes on hand, it was sure to be half
+filled with sayings and doings of himself during the time that he was
+common councilman of the City of London.&nbsp; Now, however fond the
+public might be of fairy tales, it by no means relished them in conjunction
+with the publisher&rsquo;s philosophy; and however fond of anecdotes
+in general, or even of the publisher in particular - for indeed there
+were a great many anecdotes in circulation about him which the public
+both read and listened to very readily - it took no pleasure in such
+anecdotes as he was disposed to relate about himself.&nbsp; In the compilation
+of my Lives and Trials I was exposed to incredible mortification, and
+ceaseless trouble, from this same rage for interference.&nbsp; It is
+true he could not introduce his philosophy into the work, nor was it
+possible for him to introduce anecdotes of himself, having never had
+the good or evil fortune to be tried at the bar; but he was continually
+introducing - what, under a less apathetic government than the one then
+being, would have infallibly subjected him, and perhaps myself, to a
+trial, - his politics; not his Oxford or pseudo politics, but the politics
+which he really entertained, and which were of the most republican and
+violent kind.&nbsp; But this was not all; when about a moiety of the
+first volume had been printed, he materially altered the plan of the
+work; it was no longer to be a collection of mere Newgate lives and
+trials, but of lives and trials of criminals in general, foreign as
+well as domestic.&nbsp; In a little time the work became a wondrous
+farrago, in which K&ouml;nigsmark the robber figured by the side of
+Sam Lynn, and the Marchioness de Brinvilliers was placed in contact
+with a Chinese outlaw.&nbsp; What gave me the most trouble and annoyance
+was the publisher&rsquo;s remembering some life or trial, foreign or
+domestic, which he wished to be inserted, and which I was forthwith
+to go in quest of and purchase at my own expense: some of those lives
+and trials were by no means easy to find.&nbsp; &lsquo;Where is Brandt
+and Struensee?&rsquo; cries the publisher; &lsquo;I am sure I don&rsquo;t
+know,&rsquo; I replied; whereupon the publisher falls to squealing like
+one of Joey&rsquo;s rats.&nbsp; &lsquo;Find me up Brandt and Struensee
+by next morning, or - &rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Have you found Brandt and
+Struensee?&rsquo; cried the publisher, on my appearing before him next
+morning.&nbsp; &lsquo;No,&rsquo; I reply, &lsquo;I can hear nothing
+about them&rsquo;; whereupon the publisher falls to bellowing like Joey&rsquo;s
+bull.&nbsp; By dint of incredible diligence, I at length discover the
+dingy volume containing the lives and trials of the celebrated two who
+had brooded treason dangerous to the state of Denmark.&nbsp; I purchase
+the dingy volume, and bring it in triumph to the publisher, the perspiration
+running down my brow.&nbsp; The publisher takes the dingy volume in
+his hand, he examines it attentively, then puts it down; his countenance
+is calm for a moment, almost benign.&nbsp; Another moment and there
+is a gleam in the publisher&rsquo;s sinister eye; he snatches up the
+paper containing the names of the worthies which I have intended shall
+figure in the forthcoming volumes - he glances rapidly over it, and
+his countenance once more assumes a terrific expression.&nbsp; &lsquo;How
+is this?&rsquo; he exclaims; &lsquo;I can scarcely believe my eyes -
+the most important life and trial omitted to be found in the whole criminal
+record - what gross, what utter negligence!&nbsp; Where&rsquo;s the
+life of Farmer Patch? where&rsquo;s the trial of Yeoman Patch?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What a life! what a dog&rsquo;s life!&rsquo; I would frequently
+exclaim, after escaping from the presence of the publisher.<br>
+<br>
+One day, after a scene with the publisher similar to that which I have
+described above, I found myself about noon at the bottom of Oxford Street,
+where it forms a right angle with the road which leads or did lead to
+Tottenham Court.&nbsp; Happening to cast my eyes around, it suddenly
+occurred to me that something uncommon was expected; people were standing
+in groups on the pavement - the upstair windows of the houses were thronged
+with faces, especially those of women, and many of the shops were partly,
+and not a few entirely, closed.&nbsp; What could be the reason of all
+this?&nbsp; All at once I bethought me that this street of Oxford was
+no other than the far-famed Tyburn way.&nbsp; Oh, oh, thought I, an
+execution; some handsome young robber is about to be executed at the
+farther end; just so, see how earnestly the women are peering; perhaps
+another Harry Simms - Gentleman Harry as they called him - is about
+to be carted along this street to Tyburn tree; but then I remembered
+that Tyburn tree had long since been cut down, and that criminals, whether
+young or old, good-looking or ugly, were executed before the big stone
+gaol, which I had looked at with a kind of shudder during my short rambles
+in the City.&nbsp; What could be the matter? just then I heard various
+voices cry, &lsquo;There it comes!&rsquo; and all heads were turned
+up Oxford Street, down which a hearse was slowly coming: nearer and
+nearer it drew; presently it was just opposite the place where I was
+standing, when, turning to the left, it proceeded slowly along Tottenham
+Road; immediately behind the hearse were three or four mourning coaches,
+full of people, some of whom, from the partial glimpse which I caught
+of them, appeared to be foreigners; behind these came a very long train
+of splendid carriages, all of which, without one exception, were empty.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Whose body is in that hearse?&rsquo; said I to a dapper-looking
+individual, seemingly a shopkeeper, who stood beside me on the pavement,
+looking at the procession.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The mortal relics of Lord Byron,&rsquo; said the dapper-looking
+individual, mouthing his words and smirking - &lsquo;the illustrious
+poet, which have been just brought from Greece, and are being conveyed
+to the family vault in -shire.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;An illustrious poet, was he?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Beyond all criticism,&rsquo; said the dapper man; &lsquo;all
+we of the rising generation are under incalculable obligation to Byron;
+I myself, in particular, have reason to say so; in all my correspondence
+my style is formed on the Byronic model.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I looked at the individual for a moment, who smiled and smirked to himself
+applause, and then I turned my eyes upon the hearse proceeding slowly
+up the almost endless street.&nbsp; This man, this Byron, had for many
+years past been the demigod of England, and his verses the daily food
+of those who read, from the peer to the draper&rsquo;s assistant; all
+were admirers, or rather worshippers, of Byron, and all doated on his
+verses; and then I thought of those who, with genius as high as his,
+or higher, had lived and died neglected.&nbsp; I thought of Milton abandoned
+to poverty and blindness; of witty and ingenious Butler consigned to
+the tender mercies of bailiffs; and starving Otway: they had lived neglected
+and despised, and, when they died, a few poor mourners only had followed
+them to the grave; but this Byron had been made a half god of when living,
+and now that he was dead he was followed by worshipping crowds, and
+the very sun seemed to come out on purpose to grace his funeral.&nbsp;
+And, indeed, the sun, which for many days past had hidden its face in
+clouds, shone out that morn with wonderful brilliancy, flaming upon
+the black hearse and its tall ostrich plumes, the mourning coaches,
+and the long train of aristocratic carriages which followed behind.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Great poet, sir,&rsquo; said the dapper-looking man, &lsquo;great
+poet, but unhappy.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Unhappy? yes, I had heard that he had been unhappy; that he had roamed
+about a fevered, distempered man, taking pleasure in nothing - that
+I had heard; but was it true? was he really unhappy? was not this unhappiness
+assumed, with the view of increasing the interest which the world took
+in him? and yet who could say?&nbsp; He might be unhappy, and with reason.&nbsp;
+Was he a real poet after all? might he not doubt himself? might he not
+have a lurking consciousness that he was undeserving of the homage which
+he was receiving? that it could not last? that he was rather at the
+top of fashion than of fame?&nbsp; He was a lordling, a glittering,
+gorgeous lordling: and he might have had a consciousness that he owed
+much of his celebrity to being so; he might have felt that he was rather
+at the top of fashion than of fame.&nbsp; Fashion soon changes, thought
+I, eagerly to myself - a time will come, and that speedily, when he
+will be no longer in the fashion; when this idiotic admirer of his,
+who is still grinning at my side, shall have ceased to mould his style
+on Byron&rsquo;s; and this aristocracy, squirearchy, and what not, who
+now send their empty carriages to pay respect to the fashionable corpse,
+shall have transferred their empty worship to some other animate or
+inanimate thing.&nbsp; Well, perhaps after all it was better to have
+been mighty Milton in his poverty and blindness - witty and ingenious
+Butler consigned to the tender mercies of bailiffs, and starving Otway;
+they might enjoy more real pleasure than this lordling; they must have
+been aware that the world would one day do them justice - fame after
+death is better than the top of fashion in life.&nbsp; They have left
+a fame behind them which shall never die, whilst this lordling - a time
+will come when he will be out of fashion and forgotten.&nbsp; And yet
+I don&rsquo;t know; didn&rsquo;t he write Childe Harold and that ode?&nbsp;
+Yes, he wrote Childe Harold and that ode.&nbsp; Then a time will scarcely
+come when he will be forgotten.&nbsp; Lords, squires, and cockneys may
+pass away, but a time will scarcely come when Childe Harold and that
+ode will be forgotten.&nbsp; He was a poet, after all, and he must have
+known it; a real poet, equal to - to - what a destiny!&nbsp; Rank, beauty,
+fashion, immortality, - he could not be unhappy; what a difference in
+the fate of men - I wish I could think he was unhappy . . . .<br>
+<br>
+I turned away.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Great poet, sir,&rsquo; said the dapper man, turning away too,
+&lsquo;but unhappy - fate of genius, sir; I, too, am frequently unhappy.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Hurrying down a street to the right, I encountered Francis Ardry.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What means the multitude yonder?&rsquo; he demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They are looking after the hearse which is carrying the remains
+of Byron up Tottenham Road.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have seen the man,&rsquo; said my friend, as he turned back
+the way he had come, &lsquo;so I can dispense with seeing the hearse
+- I saw the living man at Venice - ah, a great poet.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;a great poet, it must be so, everybody
+says so - what a destiny!&nbsp; What a difference in the fate of men;
+but &rsquo;tis said he was unhappy; you have seen him, how did he look?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, beautiful!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But did he look happy?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, I can&rsquo;t say he looked very unhappy; I saw him with
+two . . . very fair ladies; but what is it to you whether the man was
+unhappy or not?&nbsp; Come, where shall we go - to Joey&rsquo;s?&nbsp;
+His hugest bear - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, I have had enough of bears, I have just been worried by one.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The publisher?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then come to Joey&rsquo;s, three dogs are to be launched at his
+bear: as they pin him, imagine him to be the publisher.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am good for nothing; I think I shall
+stroll to London Bridge.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s too far for me - farewell.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XL<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+London Bridge - Why not? - Every heart has its bitters - Wicked boys
+- Give me my book - Such a fright - Honour bright.<br>
+<br>
+So I went to London Bridge, and again took my station on the spot by
+the booth where I had stood on the former occasion.&nbsp; The booth,
+however, was empty; neither the apple-woman nor her stall was to be
+seen.&nbsp; I looked over the balustrade upon the river; the tide was
+now, as before, rolling beneath the arch with frightful impetuosity.&nbsp;
+As I gazed upon the eddies of the whirlpool, I thought within myself
+how soon human life would become extinct there; a plunge, a convulsive
+flounder, and all would be over.&nbsp; When I last stood over that abyss
+I had felt a kind of impulse - a fascination; I had resisted it - I
+did not plunge into it.&nbsp; At present I felt a kind of impulse to
+plunge; but the impulse was of a different kind; it proceeded from a
+loathing of life, I looked wistfully at the eddies - what had I to live
+for? - what, indeed!&nbsp; I thought of Brandt and Struensee, and Yeoman
+Patch - should I yield to the impulse - why not?&nbsp; My eyes were
+fixed on the eddies.&nbsp; All of a sudden I shuddered; I thought I
+saw heads in the pool; human bodies wallowing confusedly; eyes turned
+up to heaven with hopeless horror; was that water or - ?&nbsp; Where
+was the impulse now?&nbsp; I raised my eyes from the pool, I looked
+no more upon it - I looked forward, far down the stream in the far distance.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Ha! what is that?&nbsp; I thought I saw a kind of Fata Morgana,
+green meadows, waving groves, a rustic home; but in the far distance
+- I stared - I stared - a Fata Morgana - it was gone. . . . &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I left the balustrade and walked to the farther end of the bridge, where
+I stood for some time contemplating the crowd; I then passed over to
+the other side with an intention of returning home; just half-way over
+the bridge, in a booth immediately opposite to the one in which I had
+formerly beheld her, sat my friend, the old apple-woman, huddled up
+behind her stall.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, mother,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;how are you?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+The old woman lifted her head with a startled look.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you know me?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, I think I do.&nbsp; Ah, yes,&rsquo; said she, as her features
+beamed with recollection, &lsquo;I know you, dear; you are the young
+lad that gave me the tanner.&nbsp; Well, child, got anything to sell?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nothing at all,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bad luck?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;bad enough, and ill usage.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah, I suppose they caught ye; well, child, never mind, better
+luck next time; I am glad to see you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thank you,&rsquo; said I, sitting down on the stone bench; &lsquo;I
+thought you had left the bridge - why have you changed your side?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The old woman shook.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is the matter with you,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;are you ill?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, child, no; only - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Only what?&nbsp; Any bad news of your son?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, child, no; nothing about my son.&nbsp; Only low, child -
+every heart has its bitters.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s true,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;well, I don&rsquo;t
+want to know your sorrows; come, where&rsquo;s the book?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The apple-woman shook more violently than before, bent herself down,
+and drew her cloak more closely about her than before.&nbsp; &lsquo;Book,
+child, what book?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, blessed Mary, to be sure.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, that; I ha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t got it, child - I have lost it,
+have left it at home.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Lost it,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;left it at home - what do you
+mean?&nbsp; Come, let me have it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I ha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t got it, child.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I believe you have got it under your cloak.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t tell any one, dear; don&rsquo;t - don&rsquo;t,&rsquo;
+and the apple-woman burst into tears.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with you?&rsquo; said I, staring at her.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You want to take my book from me?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not I, I care nothing about it; keep it, if you like, only tell
+me what&rsquo;s the matter?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, all about that book.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The book?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, they wanted to take it from me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who did?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, some wicked boys.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll tell you all about it.&nbsp;
+Eight or ten days ago, I sat behind my stall, reading my book; all of
+a sudden I felt it snatched from my hand, up I started, and see three
+rascals of boys grinning at me; one of them held the book in his hand.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;What book is this?&rdquo; said he, grinning at it.&nbsp; &ldquo;What
+do you want with my book?&rdquo; said I, clutching at it over my stall;
+&ldquo;give me my book.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;What do you want a book
+for?&rdquo; said he, holding it back; &ldquo;I have a good mind to fling
+it into the Thames.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Give me my book,&rdquo; I shrieked;
+and, snatching at it, I fell over my stall, and all my fruit was scattered
+about.&nbsp; Off ran the boys - off ran the rascal with my book.&nbsp;
+Oh dear, I thought I should have died; up I got, however, and ran after
+them as well as I could; I thought of my fruit, but I thought more of
+my book.&nbsp; I left my fruit and ran after my book.&nbsp; &ldquo;My
+book! my book!&rdquo; I shrieked, &ldquo;murder! theft! robbery!&rdquo;&nbsp;
+I was near being crushed under the wheels of a cart; but I didn&rsquo;t
+care - I followed the rascals.&nbsp; &ldquo;Stop them! stop them!&rdquo;&nbsp;
+I ran nearly as fast as they - they couldn&rsquo;t run very fast on
+account of the crowd.&nbsp; At last some one stopped the rascal, whereupon
+he turned round, and flinging the book at me, it fell into the mud;
+well, I picked it up and kissed it, all muddy as it was.&nbsp; &ldquo;Has
+he robbed you?&rdquo; said the man.&nbsp; &ldquo;Robbed me, indeed;
+why he had got my book.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Oh, your book,&rdquo; said
+the man, and laughed, and let the rascal go.&nbsp; Ah, he might laugh,
+but - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, go on.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My heart beats so.&nbsp; Well, I went back to my booth and picked
+up my stall and my fruits, what I could find of them.&nbsp; I couldn&rsquo;t
+keep my stall for two days I got such a fright, and when I got round
+I couldn&rsquo;t bide the booth where the thing had happened, so I came
+over to the other side.&nbsp; Oh, the rascals, if I could but see them
+hanged.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;For what?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, for stealing my book.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I thought you didn&rsquo;t dislike stealing, - that you were
+ready to buy things - there was your son, you know - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, to be sure.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He took things.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To be sure he did.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But you don&rsquo;t like a thing of yours to be taken.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, that&rsquo;s quite a different thing; what&rsquo;s stealing
+handkerchiefs, and that kind of thing, to do with taking my book? there&rsquo;s
+a wide difference - don&rsquo;t you see?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, I see.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you, dear? well, bless your heart, I&rsquo;m glad you do.&nbsp;
+Would you like to look at the book?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, I think I should.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Honour bright?&rsquo; said the apple-woman, looking me in the
+eyes.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Honour bright,&rsquo; said I, looking the apple-woman in the
+eyes.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well then, dear, here it is,&rsquo; said she, taking it from
+under her cloak; &lsquo;read it as long as you like, only get a little
+farther into the booth -&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t sit so near the edge - you
+might - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I went deep into the booth, and the apple-woman, bringing her chair
+round, almost confronted me.&nbsp; I commenced reading the book, and
+was soon engrossed by it; hours passed away, once or twice I lifted
+up my eyes, the apple-woman was still confronting me: at last my eyes
+began to ache, whereupon I returned the book to the apple-woman, and,
+giving her another tanner, walked away.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Decease of the Review - Homer himself - Bread and cheese - Finger and
+thumb - Impossible to find - Something grand - Universal mixture - Some
+other publisher.<br>
+<br>
+Time passed away, and with it the Review, which, contrary to the publisher&rsquo;s
+expectation, did not prove a successful speculation.&nbsp; About four
+months after the period of its birth it expired, as all Reviews must
+for which there is no demand.&nbsp; Authors had ceased to send their
+publications to it, and, consequently, to purchase it; for I have already
+hinted that it was almost entirely supported by authors of a particular
+class, who expected to see their publications foredoomed to immortality
+in its pages.&nbsp; The behaviour of these authors towards this unfortunate
+publication I can attribute to no other cause than to a report which
+was industriously circulated, namely, that the Review was low, and that
+to be reviewed in it was an infallible sign that one was a low person,
+who could be reviewed nowhere else.&nbsp; So authors took fright; and
+no wonder, for it will never do for an author to be considered low.&nbsp;
+Homer himself has never yet entirely recovered from the injury he received
+by Lord Chesterfield&rsquo;s remark that the speeches of his heroes
+were frequently exceedingly low.<br>
+<br>
+So the Review ceased, and the reviewing corps no longer existed as such;
+they forthwith returned to their proper avocations - the editor to compose
+tunes on his piano, and to the task of disposing of the remaining copies
+of his Quintilian - the inferior members to working for the publisher,
+being to a man dependants of his; one, to composing fairy tales; another,
+to collecting miracles of Popish saints; and a third, Newgate lives
+and trials.&nbsp; Owing to the bad success of the Review, the publisher
+became more furious than ever.&nbsp; My money was growing short, and
+I one day asked him to pay me for my labours in the deceased publication.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said the publisher, &lsquo;what do you want the money
+for?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Merely to live on,&rsquo; I replied; &lsquo;it is very difficult
+to live in this town without money.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How much money did you bring with you to town?&rsquo; demanded
+the publisher.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Some twenty or thirty pounds,&rsquo; I replied.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you have spent it already?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;not entirely; but it is fast disappearing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said the publisher, &lsquo;I believe you to be extravagant;
+yes, sir, extravagant!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;On what grounds do you suppose me to be so?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said the publisher, &lsquo;you eat meat.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I eat meat sometimes; what should
+I eat?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bread, sir,&rsquo; said the publisher; &lsquo;bread and cheese.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So I do, sir, when I am disposed to indulge; but I cannot often
+afford it - it is very expensive to dine on bread and cheese, especially
+when one is fond of cheese, as I am.&nbsp; My last bread and cheese
+dinner cost me fourteenpence.&nbsp; There is drink, sir; with bread
+and cheese one must drink porter, sir.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then, sir, eat bread - bread alone.&nbsp; As good men as yourself
+have eaten bread alone; they have been glad to get it, sir.&nbsp; If
+with bread and cheese you must drink porter, sir, with bread alone you
+can, perhaps, drink water, sir.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+However, I got paid at last for my writings in the Review, not, it is
+true, in the current coin of the realm, but in certain bills; there
+were two of them, one payable at twelve, and the other at eighteen months
+after date.&nbsp; It was a long time before I could turn these bills
+to any account; at last I found a person who, at a discount of only
+thirty per cent, consented to cash them; not, however, without sundry
+grimaces, and, what was still more galling, holding, more than once,
+the unfortunate papers high in air between his forefinger and thumb.&nbsp;
+So ill, indeed, did I like this last action, that I felt much inclined
+to snatch them away.&nbsp; I restrained myself, however, for I remembered
+that it was very difficult to live without money, and that, if the present
+person did not discount the bills, I should probably find no one else
+that would.<br>
+<br>
+But if the treatment which I had experienced from the publisher, previous
+to making this demand upon him, was difficult to bear, that which I
+subsequently underwent was far more so: his great delight seemed to
+consist in causing me misery and mortification; if, on former occasions,
+he was continually sending me in quest of lives and trials difficult
+to find, he now was continually demanding lives and trials which it
+was impossible to find; the personages whom he mentioned never having
+lived, nor consequently been tried.&nbsp; Moreover, some of my best
+lives and trials which I had corrected and edited with particular care,
+and on which I prided myself no little, he caused to be cancelled after
+they had passed through the press.&nbsp; Amongst these was the life
+of &lsquo;Gentleman Harry.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;They are drugs, sir,&rsquo;
+said the publisher, &lsquo;drugs; that life of Harry Simms has long
+been the greatest drug in the calendar - has it not, Taggart?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Taggart made no answer save by taking a pinch of snuff.&nbsp; The reader,
+has, I hope, not forgotten Taggart, whom I mentioned whilst giving an
+account of my first morning&rsquo;s visit to the publisher.&nbsp; I
+beg Taggart&rsquo;s pardon for having been so long silent about him;
+but he was a very silent man - yet there was much in Taggart - and Taggart
+had always been civil and kind to me in his peculiar way.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, young gentleman,&rsquo; said Taggart to me one morning,
+when we chanced to be alone a few days after the affair of the cancelling,
+&lsquo;how do you like authorship?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I scarcely call authorship the drudgery I am engaged in,&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you call authorship?&rsquo; said Taggart.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I scarcely know,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;that is, I can scarcely
+express what I think it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Shall I help you out?&rsquo; said Taggart, turning round his
+chair, and looking at me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If you like,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To write something grand,&rsquo; said Taggart, taking snuff;
+&lsquo;to be stared at - lifted on people&rsquo;s shoulders - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that is something like it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Taggart took snuff.&nbsp; &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;why don&rsquo;t
+you write something grand?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What?&rsquo; said Taggart.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;there are those ballads.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Taggart took snuff.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And those wonderful versions from Ab Gwilym.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Taggart took snuff again.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You seem to be very fond of snuff,&rsquo; said I, looking at
+him angrily.<br>
+<br>
+Taggart tapped his box.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Have you taken it long?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Three-and-twenty years.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What snuff do you take?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Universal mixture.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you find it of use?<br>
+<br>
+Taggart tapped his box.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In what respect?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In many - there is nothing like it to get a man through; but
+for snuff I should scarcely be where I am now.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Have you been long here?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Three-and-twenty years.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dear me,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;and snuff brought you through?&nbsp;
+Give me a pinch - pah, I don&rsquo;t like it,&rsquo; and I sneezed.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Take another pinch,&rsquo; said Taggart.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t like snuff.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you will never do for authorship; at least for this kind.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So I begin to think - what shall I do?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Taggart took snuff.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You were talking of a great work - what shall it be?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Taggart took snuff.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you think I could write one?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Taggart uplifted his two forefingers as if to tap, he did not however.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It would require time,&rsquo; said I, with a half sigh.<br>
+<br>
+Taggart tapped his box.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A great deal of time; I really think that my ballads - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Taggart took snuff.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If published, would do me credit.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll make an effort,
+and offer them to some other publisher.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Taggart took a double quantity of snuff.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Francis Ardry - That won&rsquo;t do, sir - Observe my gestures - I think
+you improve - Better than politics - Delightful young Frenchwoman -
+A burning shame - Magnificent impudence - Paunch - Voltaire - Lump of
+sugar.<br>
+<br>
+Occasionally I called on Francis Ardry.&nbsp; This young gentleman resided
+in handsome apartments in the neighbourhood of a fashionable square,
+kept a livery servant, and, upon the whole, lived in very good style.&nbsp;
+Going to see him one day, between one and two, I was informed by the
+servant that his master was engaged for the moment, but that, if I pleased
+to wait a few minutes, I should find him at liberty.&nbsp; Having told
+the man that I had no objection, he conducted me into a small apartment
+which served as antechamber to a drawing-room; the door of this last
+being half open, I could see Francis Ardry at the farther end, speechifying
+and gesticulating in a very impressive manner.&nbsp; The servant, in
+some confusion, was hastening to close the door; but, ere he could effect
+his purpose, Francis Ardry, who had caught a glimpse of me, exclaimed,
+&lsquo;Come in - come in by all means&rsquo;; and then proceeded, as
+before, speechifying and gesticulating.&nbsp; Filled with some surprise,
+I obeyed his summons.<br>
+<br>
+On entering the room I perceived another individual, to whom Francis
+Ardry appeared to be addressing himself; this other was a short spare
+man of about sixty; his hair was of badger gray, and his face was covered
+with wrinkles - without vouchsafing me a look, he kept his eye, which
+was black and lustrous, fixed full on Francis Ardry, as if paying the
+deepest attention to his discourse.&nbsp; All of a sudden, however,
+he cried with a sharp, cracked voice, &lsquo;That won&rsquo;t do, sir;
+that won&rsquo;t do - more vehemence - your argument is at present particularly
+weak; therefore, more vehemence - you must confuse them, stun them,
+stultify them, sir&rsquo;; and, at each of these injunctions, he struck
+the back of his right hand sharply against the palm of the left.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Good, sir - good!&rsquo; he occasionally uttered, in the same
+sharp, cracked tone, as the voice of Francis Ardry became more and more
+vehement.&nbsp; &lsquo;Infinitely good!&rsquo; he exclaimed, as Francis
+Ardry raised his voice to the highest pitch; &lsquo;and now, sir, abate;
+let the tempest of vehemence decline - gradually, sir; not too fast.&nbsp;
+Good, sir - very good!&rsquo; as the voice of Francis Ardry declined
+gradually in vehemence.&nbsp; &lsquo;And now a little pathos, sir -
+try them with a little pathos.&nbsp; That won&rsquo;t do, sir - that
+won&rsquo;t do,&rsquo; - as Francis Ardry made an attempt to become
+pathetic, - &lsquo;that will never pass for pathos - with tones and
+gesture of that description you will never redress the wrongs of your
+country.&nbsp; Now, sir, observe my gestures, and pay attention to the
+tone of my voice, sir.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon, making use of nearly the same terms which Francis Ardry had
+employed, the individual in black uttered several sentences in tones
+and with gestures which were intended to express a considerable degree
+of pathos, though it is possible that some people would have thought
+both the one and the other highly ludicrous.&nbsp; After a pause, Francis
+Ardry recommenced imitating the tones and the gestures of his monitor
+in the most admirable manner.&nbsp; Before he had proceeded far, however,
+he burst into a fit of laughter, in which I should, perhaps, have joined,
+provided it were ever my wont to laugh.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ha, ha!&rsquo;
+said the other, good-humouredly, &lsquo;you are laughing at me.&nbsp;
+Well, well, I merely wished to give you a hint; but you saw very well
+what I meant; upon the whole I think you improve.&nbsp; But I must now
+go, having two other pupils to visit before four.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Then taking from the table a kind of three-cornered hat, and a cane
+headed with amber, he shook Francis Ardry by the hand; and, after glancing
+at me for a moment, made me a half bow, attended with a strange grimace,
+and departed.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is that gentleman?&rsquo; said I to Francis Ardry, as soon
+as were alone.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, that is - &rsquo; said Frank, smiling, &lsquo;the gentleman
+who gives me lessons in elocution.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what need have you of elocution?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, I merely obey the commands of my guardians,&rsquo; said Francis,
+&lsquo;who insist that I should, with the assistance of -, qualify myself
+for Parliament; for which they do me the honour to suppose that I have
+some natural talent.&nbsp; I dare not disobey them; for, at the present
+moment, I have particular reasons for wishing to keep on good terms
+with them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;you are a Roman Catholic; and I thought
+that persons of your religion were excluded from Parliament?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, upon that very thing the whole matter hinges; people of
+our religion are determined to be no longer excluded from Parliament,
+but to have a share in the government of the nation.&nbsp; Not that
+I care anything about the matter; I merely obey the will of my guardians;
+my thoughts are fixed on something better than politics.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I understand you,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;dog-fighting - well,
+I can easily conceive that to some minds dog-fighting - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was not thinking of dog-fighting,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry,
+interrupting me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not thinking of dog-fighting!&rsquo; I ejaculated.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry, &lsquo;something higher and much
+more rational than dog-fighting at present occupies my thoughts.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dear me,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I thought I had heard you say
+that there was nothing like it!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Like what?&rsquo; said Francis Ardry.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dog-fighting, to be sure,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pooh,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry; &lsquo;who but the gross and
+unrefined care anything for dog-fighting?&nbsp; That which at present
+engages my waking and sleeping thoughts is love - divine love - there
+is nothing like <i>that</i>.&nbsp; Listen to me, I have a secret to
+confide to you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And then Francis Ardry proceeded to make me his confidant.&nbsp; It
+appeared that he had had the good fortune to make the acquaintance of
+the most delightful young Frenchwoman imaginable, Annette La Noire by
+name, who had just arrived from her native country with the intention
+of obtaining the situation of governess in some English family; a position
+which, on account of her many accomplishments, she was eminently qualified
+to fill.&nbsp; Francis Ardry had, however, persuaded her to relinquish
+her intention for the present, on the ground that, until she had become
+acclimated in England, her health would probably suffer from the confinement
+inseparable from the occupation in which she was desirous of engaging;
+he had, moreover - for it appeared that she was the most frank and confiding
+creature in the world - succeeded in persuading her to permit him to
+hire for her a very handsome first floor in his own neighbourhood, and
+to accept a few inconsiderable presents in money and jewellery.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I am looking out for a handsome gig and horse,&rsquo; said Francis
+Ardry, at the conclusion of his narration; &lsquo;it were a burning
+shame that so divine a creature should have to go about a place like
+London on foot, or in a paltry hackney coach.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;will not the pursuit of politics prevent
+your devoting much time to this fair lady?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It will prevent me devoting all my time,&rsquo; said Francis
+Ardry, &lsquo;as I gladly would; but what can I do?&nbsp; My guardians
+wish me to qualify myself for a political orator, and I dare not offend
+them by a refusal.&nbsp; If I offend my guardians, I should find it
+impossible - unless I have recourse to Jews and money-lenders - to support
+Annette; present her with articles of dress and jewellery, and purchase
+a horse and cabriolet worthy of conveying her angelic person through
+the streets of London.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+After a pause, in which Francis Ardry appeared lost in thought, his
+mind being probably occupied with the subject of Annette, I broke silence
+by observing, &lsquo;So your fellow-religionists are really going to
+make a serious attempt to procure their emancipation?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry, starting from his reverie; &lsquo;everything
+has been arranged; even a leader has been chosen, at least for us of
+Ireland, upon the whole the most suitable man in the world for the occasion
+- a barrister of considerable talent, mighty voice, and magnificent
+impudence.&nbsp; With emancipation, liberty, and redress for the wrongs
+of Ireland in his mouth, he is to force his way into the British House
+of Commons, dragging myself and others behind him - he will succeed,
+and when he is in he will cut a figure; I have heard - himself, who
+has heard him speak, say that he will cut a figure.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And is - competent to judge?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who but he?&rsquo; said Francis Ardry; &lsquo;no one questions
+his judgment concerning what relates to elocution.&nbsp; His fame on
+that point is so well established, that the greatest orators do not
+disdain occasionally to consult him; C- himself, as I have been told,
+when anxious to produce any particular effect in the House, is in the
+habit of calling in - for a consultation.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As to matter, or manner?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Chiefly the latter,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry, &lsquo;though
+he is competent to give advice as to both, for he has been an orator
+in his day, and a leader of the people; though he confessed to me that
+he was not exactly qualified to play the latter part - &ldquo;I want
+paunch,&rdquo; said he.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is not always indispensable,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;there is
+an orator in my town, a hunchback and watchmaker, without it, who not
+only leads the people, but the mayor too; perhaps he has a succedaneum
+in his hunch: but, tell me, is the leader of your movement in possession
+of that which - wants?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No more deficient in it than in brass,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;whatever his qualifications may be,
+I wish him success in the cause which he has taken up - I love religious
+liberty.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We shall succeed,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry; &lsquo;John Bull
+upon the whole is rather indifferent on the subject, and then we are
+sure to be backed by the Radical party, who, to gratify their political
+prejudices, would join with Satan himself.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There is one thing,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;connected with this
+matter which surprises me - your own lukewarmness.&nbsp; Yes, making
+every allowance for your natural predilection for dog-fighting, and
+your present enamoured state of mind, your apathy at the commencement
+of such a movement is to me unaccountable.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You would not have cause to complain of my indifference,&rsquo;
+said Frank, &lsquo;provided I thought my country would be benefited
+by this movement; but I happen to know the origin of it.&nbsp; The priests
+are the originators, &lsquo;and what country was ever benefited by a
+movement which owed its origin to them?&rsquo; so says Voltaire, a page
+of whom I occasionally read.&nbsp; By the present move they hope to
+increase their influence, and to further certain designs which they
+entertain both with regard to this country and Ireland.&nbsp; I do not
+speak rashly or unadvisedly.&nbsp; A strange fellow - a half-Italian,
+half-English priest, - who was recommended to me by my guardians, partly
+as a spiritual, partly as a temporal guide, has let me into a secret
+or two; he is fond of a glass of gin and water - and over a glass of
+gin and water cold, with a lump of sugar in it, he has been more communicative,
+perhaps, than was altogether prudent.&nbsp; Were I my own master, I
+would kick him, politics, and religious movements, to a considerable
+distance.&nbsp; And now, if you are going away, do so quickly; I have
+an appointment with Annette, and must make myself fit to appear before
+her.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Progress - Glorious John - Utterly unintelligible - What a difference.<br>
+<br>
+By the month of October I had, in spite of all difficulties and obstacles,
+accomplished about two-thirds of the principal task which I had undertaken,
+the compiling of the Newgate lives; I had also made some progress in
+translating the publisher&rsquo;s philosophy into German.&nbsp; But
+about this time I began to see very clearly that it was impossible that
+our connection should prove of long duration; yet, in the event of my
+leaving the big man, what other resource had I - another publisher?&nbsp;
+But what had I to offer?&nbsp; There were my ballads, my Ab Gwilym,
+but then I thought of Taggart and his snuff, his pinch of snuff.&nbsp;
+However, I determined to see what could be done, so I took my ballads
+under my arm, and went to various publishers; some took snuff, others
+did not, but none took my ballads or Ab Gwilym, they would not even
+look at them.&nbsp; One asked me if I had anything else - he was a snuff-taker
+- I said yes; and going home, returned with my translation of the German
+novel, to which I have before alluded.&nbsp; After keeping it for a
+fortnight, he returned it to me on my visiting him, and, taking a pinch
+of snuff, told me it would not do.&nbsp; There were marks of snuff on
+the outside of the manuscript, which was a roll of paper bound with
+red tape, but there were no marks of snuff on the interior of the manuscript,
+from which I concluded that he had never opened it.<br>
+<br>
+I had often heard of one Glorious John, who lived at the western end
+of the town; on consulting Taggart, he told me that it was possible
+that Glorious John would publish my ballads and Ab Gwilym, that is,
+said he, taking a pinch of snuff, provided you can see him; so I went
+to the house where Glorious John resided, and a glorious house it was,
+but I could not see Glorious John - I called a dozen times, but I never
+could see Glorious John.&nbsp; Twenty years after, by the greatest chance
+in the world, I saw Glorious John, and sure enough Glorious John published
+my books, but they were different books from the first; I never offered
+my ballads or Ab Gwilym to Glorious John.&nbsp; Glorious John was no
+snuff-taker.&nbsp; He asked me to dinner, and treated me with superb
+Rhenish wine.&nbsp; Glorious John is now gone to his rest, but I - what
+was I going to say? - the world will never forget Glorious John.<br>
+<br>
+So I returned to my last resource for the time then being - to the publisher,
+persevering doggedly in my labour.&nbsp; One day, on visiting the publisher,
+I found him stamping with fury upon certain fragments of paper.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;you know nothing of German; I have
+shown your translation of the first chapter of my Philosophy to several
+Germans: it is utterly unintelligible to them.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Did
+they see the Philosophy?&rsquo; I replied.&nbsp; &lsquo;They did, sir,
+but they did not profess to understand English.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;No
+more do I,&rsquo;&nbsp; I replied, &lsquo;if that Philosophy be English.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The publisher was furious - I was silent.&nbsp; For want of a pinch
+of snuff, I had recourse to something which is no bad substitute for
+a pinch of snuff, to those who can&rsquo;t take it, silent contempt;
+at first it made the publisher more furious, as perhaps a pinch of snuff
+would; it, however, eventually calmed him, and he ordered me back to
+my occupations, in other words, the compilation.&nbsp; To be brief,
+the compilation was completed, I got paid in the usual manner, and forthwith
+left him.<br>
+<br>
+He was a clever man, but what a difference in clever men!<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLIV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The old spot - A long history - Thou shalt not steal - No harm - Education
+- Necessity - Foam on your lip - Apples and pears - What will you read?
+- Metaphor - The fur cap - I don&rsquo;t know him.<br>
+<br>
+It was past midwinter, and I sat on London Bridge, in company with the
+old apple-woman: she had just returned to the other side of the bridge,
+to her place in the booth where I had originally found her.&nbsp; This
+she had done after frequent conversations with me; &lsquo;she liked
+the old place best,&rsquo; she said, which she would never have left
+but for the terror which she experienced when the boys ran away with
+her book.&nbsp; So I sat with her at the old spot, one afternoon past
+midwinter, reading the book, of which I had by this time come to the
+last pages.&nbsp; I had observed that the old woman for some time past
+had shown much less anxiety about the book than she had been in the
+habit of doing.&nbsp; I was, however, not quite prepared for her offering
+to make me a present of it, which she did that afternoon; when, having
+finished it, I returned it to her, with many thanks for the pleasure
+and instruction I had derived from its perusal.&nbsp; &lsquo;You may
+keep it, dear,&rsquo; said the old woman, with a sigh; &lsquo;you may
+carry it to your lodging, and keep it for your own.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Looking at the old woman with surprise, I exclaimed, &lsquo;Is it possible
+that you are willing to part with the book which has been your source
+of comfort so long?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Whereupon the old woman entered into a long history, from which I gathered
+that the book had become distasteful to her; she hardly ever opened
+it of late, she said, or if she did, it was only to shut it again; also,
+that other things which she had been fond of, though of a widely different
+kind, were now distasteful to her.&nbsp; Porter and beef-steaks were
+no longer grateful to her palate, her present diet chiefly consisting
+of tea, and bread and butter.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;you have been ill, and when people
+are ill, they seldom like the things which give them pleasure when they
+are in health.&rsquo;&nbsp; I learned, moreover, that she slept little
+at night, and had all kinds of strange thoughts; that as she lay awake
+many things connected with her youth, which she had quite forgotten,
+came into her mind.&nbsp; There were certain words that came into her
+mind the night before the last, which were continually humming in her
+ears: I found that the words were, &lsquo;Thou shalt not steal.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+On inquiring where she had first heard these words, I learned that she
+had read them at school, in a book called the primer; to this school
+she had been sent by her mother, who was a poor widow, and followed
+the trade of apple-selling in the very spot where her daughter followed
+it now.&nbsp; It seems that the mother was a very good kind of woman,
+but quite ignorant of letters, the benefit of which she was willing
+to procure for her child; and at the school the daughter learned to
+read, and subsequently experienced the pleasure and benefit of letters,
+in being able to read the book which she found in an obscure closet
+of her mother&rsquo;s house, and which had been her principal companion
+and comfort for many years of her life.<br>
+<br>
+But, as I have said before, she was now dissatisfied with the book,
+and with most other things in which she had taken pleasure; she dwelt
+much on the words, &lsquo;Thou shalt not steal&rsquo;; she had never
+stolen things herself, but then she had bought things which other people
+had stolen, and which she knew had been stolen; and her dear son had
+been a thief, which he perhaps would not have been but for the example
+which she set him in buying things from characters, as she called them,
+who associated with her.<br>
+<br>
+On inquiring how she had become acquainted with these characters, I
+learned that times had gone hard with her; that she had married, but
+her husband had died after a long sickness, which had reduced them to
+great distress; that her fruit trade was not a profitable one, and that
+she had bought and sold things which had been stolen to support herself
+and her son.&nbsp; That for a long time she supposed there was no harm
+in doing so, as her book was full of entertaining tales of stealing;
+but she now thought that the book was a bad book, and that learning
+to read was a bad thing; her mother had never been able to read, but
+had died in peace, though poor.<br>
+<br>
+So here was a woman who attributed the vices and follies of her life
+to being able to read; her mother, she said, who could not read, lived
+respectably, and died in peace; and what was the essential difference
+between the mother and daughter, save that the latter could read?&nbsp;
+But for her literature she might in all probability have lived respectably
+and honestly, like her mother, and might eventually have died in peace,
+which at present she could scarcely hope to do.&nbsp; Education had
+failed to produce any good in this poor woman; on the contrary, there
+could be little doubt that she had been injured by it.&nbsp; Then was
+education a bad thing?&nbsp; Rousseau was of opinion that it was; but
+Rousseau was a Frenchman, at least wrote in French, and I cared not
+the snap of my fingers for Rousseau.&nbsp; But education has certainly
+been of benefit in some instances; well, what did that prove, but that
+partiality existed in the management of the affairs of the world - if
+education was a benefit to some, why was it not a benefit to others?&nbsp;
+Could some avoid abusing it, any more than others could avoid turning
+it to a profitable account?&nbsp; I did not see how they could; this
+poor simple woman found a book in her mother&rsquo;s closet; a book,
+which was a capital book for those who could turn it to the account
+for which it was intended; a book, from the perusal of which I felt
+myself wiser and better, but which was by no means suited to the intellect
+of this poor simple woman, who thought that it was written in praise
+of thieving; yet she found it, she read it, and - and - I felt myself
+getting into a maze; what is right, thought I? what is wrong?&nbsp;
+Do I exist?&nbsp; Does the world exist? if it does, every action is
+bound up with necessity.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Necessity!&rsquo; I exclaimed, and cracked my finger-joints.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah, it is a bad thing,&rsquo; said the old woman.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is a bad thing?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why to be poor, dear.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You talk like a fool,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;riches and poverty
+are only different forms of necessity.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You should not call me a fool, dear; you should not call your
+own mother a fool.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are not my mother,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not your mother, dear? - no, no more I am; but your calling me
+fool put me in mind of my dear son, who often used to call me fool -
+and you just now looked as he sometimes did, with a blob of foam on
+your lip.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;After all, I don&rsquo;t know that you are not my mother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you, dear?&nbsp; I&rsquo;m glad of it; I wish you
+would make it out.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How should I make it out? who can speak from his own knowledge
+as to the circumstances of his birth?&nbsp; Besides, before attempting
+to establish our relationship, it would be necessary to prove that such
+people exist.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What people, dear?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You and I.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Lord, child, you are mad; that book has made you so.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t abuse it,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;the book is an excellent
+one, that is, provided it exists.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish it did not,&rsquo; said the old woman; &lsquo;but it shan&rsquo;t
+long; I&rsquo;ll burn it, or fling it into the river - the voices at
+night tell me to do so.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Tell the voices,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that they talk nonsense;
+the book, if it exists, is a good book, it contains a deep moral; have
+you read it all?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;All the funny parts, dear; all about taking things, and the manner
+it was done; as for the rest, I could not exactly make it out.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then the book is not to blame; I repeat that the book is a good
+book, and contains deep morality, always supposing that there is such
+a thing as morality, which is the same thing as supposing that there
+is anything at all.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Anything at all!&nbsp; Why ain&rsquo;t we here on this bridge,
+in my booth, with my stall and my - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Apples and pears, baked hot, you would say - I don&rsquo;t know;
+all is a mystery, a deep question.&nbsp; It is a question, and probably
+always will be, whether there is a world, and consequently apples and
+pears; and, provided there be a world, whether that world be like an
+apple or a pear.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t talk so, dear.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I won&rsquo;t; we will suppose that we all exist - world, ourselves,
+apples, and pears: so you wish to get rid of the book?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, dear, I wish you would take it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have read it, and have no farther use for it; I do not need
+books: in a little time, perhaps, I shall not have a place wherein to
+deposit myself, far less books.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then I will fling it into the river.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t do that; here, give it me.&nbsp; Now what shall I
+do with it? you were so fond of it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am so no longer.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But how will you pass your time; what will you read?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish I had never learned to read, or, if I had, that I had
+only read the books I saw at school: the primer or the other.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What was the other?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I think they called it the Bible: all about God, and Job, and
+Jesus.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah, I know it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You have read it; is it a nice book - all true?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;True, true - I don&rsquo;t know what to say; but if the world
+be true, and not all a lie, a fiction, I don&rsquo;t see why the Bible,
+as they call it, should not be true.&nbsp; By the bye, what do you call
+Bible in your tongue, or, indeed, book of any kind? as Bible merely
+means a book.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do I call the Bible in my language, dear?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, the language of those who bring you things.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The language of those who <i>did</i>, dear; they bring them now
+no longer.&nbsp; They call me fool, as you did, dear, just now; they
+call kissing the Bible, which means taking a false oath, smacking calf-skin.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s metaphor,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;English, but metaphorical;
+what an odd language!&nbsp; So you would like to have a Bible, - shall
+I buy you one?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am poor, dear - no money since I left off the other trade.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, then, I&rsquo;ll buy you one.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, dear, no; you are poor, and may soon want the money; but
+if you can take me one conveniently on the sly, you know - I think you
+may, for, as it is a good book, I suppose there can be no harm in taking
+it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That will never do,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;more especially as
+I should be sure to be caught, not having made taking of things my trade;
+but I&rsquo;ll tell you what I&rsquo;ll do - try and exchange this book
+of yours for a Bible; who knows for what great things this same book
+of yours may serve?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, dear,&rsquo; said the old woman, &lsquo;do as you please;
+I should like to see the - what do you call it? - Bible, and to read
+it, as you seem to think it true.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;seem; that is the way to express yourself
+in this maze of doubt - I seem to think - these apples and pears seem
+to be - and here seems to be a gentleman who wants to purchase either
+one or the other.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+A person had stopped before the apple-woman&rsquo;s stall, and was glancing
+now at the fruit, now at the old woman and myself; he wore a blue mantle,
+and had a kind of fur cap on his head; he was somewhat above the middle
+stature; his features were keen, but rather hard; there was a slight
+obliquity in his vision.&nbsp; Selecting a small apple, he gave the
+old woman a penny; then, after looking at me scrutinisingly for a moment,
+he moved from the booth in the direction of Southwark.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you know who that man is?&rsquo; said I to the old woman.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;except that he is one of my best
+customers: he frequently stops, takes an apple, and gives me a penny;
+his is the only piece of money I have taken this blessed day.&nbsp;
+I don&rsquo;t know him, but he has once or twice sat down in the booth
+with two strange-looking men - Mulattos, or Lascars, I think they call
+them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Bought and exchanged - Quite empty - A new firm - Bibles - Countenance
+of a lion - Clap of thunder - A truce with this - I have lost it - Clearly
+a right - Goddess of the Mint.<br>
+<br>
+In pursuance of my promise to the old woman, I set about procuring her
+a Bible with all convenient speed, placing the book which she had intrusted
+to me for the purpose of exchange in my pocket.&nbsp; I went to several
+shops, and asked if Bibles were to be had: I found that there were plenty.&nbsp;
+When, however, I informed the people that I came to barter, they looked
+blank, and declined treating with me; saying that they did not do business
+in that way.&nbsp; At last I went into a shop over the window of which
+I saw written, &lsquo;Books bought and exchanged&rsquo;: there was a
+smartish young fellow in the shop, with black hair and whiskers; &lsquo;You
+exchange?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;sometimes,
+but we prefer selling; what book do you want?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;A
+Bible,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;there&rsquo;s
+a great demand for Bibles just now; all kinds of people are become very
+pious of late,&rsquo; he added, grinning at me; &lsquo;I am afraid I
+can&rsquo;t do business with you, more especially as the master is not
+at home.&nbsp; What book have you brought?&rsquo;&nbsp; Taking the book
+out of my pocket, I placed it on the counter: the young fellow opened
+the book, and inspecting the title-page, burst into a loud laugh.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;What do you laugh for?&rsquo; said I, angrily, and half clenching
+my fist.&nbsp; &lsquo;Laugh!&rsquo; said the young fellow; &lsquo;laugh!
+who could help laughing?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I could,&rsquo; said I;
+&lsquo;I see nothing to laugh at; I want to exchange this book for a
+Bible.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You do?&rsquo; said the young fellow; &lsquo;well,
+I daresay there are plenty who would be willing to exchange, that is,
+if they dared.&nbsp; I wish master were at home; but that would never
+do, either.&nbsp; Master&rsquo;s a family man, the Bibles are not mine,
+and master being a family man, is sharp, and knows all his stock; I&rsquo;d
+buy it of you, but, to tell you the truth, I am quite empty here,&rsquo;
+said he, pointing to his pocket, &lsquo;so I am afraid we can&rsquo;t
+deal.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Whereupon, looking anxiously at the young man, &lsquo;What am I to do?&rsquo;
+said I; &lsquo;I really want a Bible.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Can&rsquo;t you buy one?&rsquo; said the young man; &lsquo;have
+you no money?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I have some, but I am merely the agent
+of another; I came to exchange, not to buy; what am I to do?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said the young man, thoughtfully laying
+down the book on the counter; &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know what you can
+do; I think you will find some difficulty in this bartering job, the
+trade are rather precise.&rsquo;&nbsp; All at once he laughed louder
+than before; suddenly stopping, however, he put on a very grave look.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Take my advice,&rsquo; said he; &lsquo;there is a firm established
+in this neighbourhood which scarcely sells any books but Bibles; they
+are very rich, and pride themselves on selling their books at the lowest
+possible price; apply to them, who knows but what they will exchange
+with you?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon I demanded with some eagerness of the young man the direction
+to the place where he thought it possible that I might effect the exchange
+- which direction the young fellow cheerfully gave me, and, as I turned
+away, had the civility to wish me success.<br>
+<br>
+I had no difficulty in finding the house to which the young fellow directed
+me; it was a very large house, situated in a square; and upon the side
+of the house was written in large letters, &lsquo;Bibles, and other
+religious books.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+At the door of the house were two or three tumbrils, in the act of being
+loaded with chests, very much resembling tea-chests; one of the chests
+falling down, burst, and out flew, not tea, but various books, in a
+neat, small size, and in neat leather covers; Bibles, said I, - Bibles,
+doubtless.&nbsp; I was not quite right, nor quite wrong; picking up
+one of the books, I looked at it for a moment, and found it to be the
+New Testament.&nbsp; &lsquo;Come, young lad,&rsquo; said a man who stood
+by, in the dress of a porter, &lsquo;put that book down, it is none
+of yours; if you want a book, go in and deal for one.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Deal, thought I, deal, - the man seems to know what I am coming about,
+- and going in, I presently found myself in a very large room.&nbsp;
+Behind a counter two men stood with their backs to a splendid fire,
+warming themselves, for the weather was cold.<br>
+<br>
+Of these men one was dressed in brown, and the other was dressed in
+black; both were tall men - he who was dressed in brown was thin, and
+had a particularly ill-natured countenance; the man dressed in black
+was bulky, his features were noble, but they were those of a lion.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is your business, young man?&rsquo; said the precise personage,
+as I stood staring at him and his companion.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I want a Bible,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What price, what size?&rsquo; said the precise-looking man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As to size,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I should like to have a large
+one - that is, if you can afford me one - I do not come to buy.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, friend,&rsquo; said the precise-looking man, &lsquo;if you
+come here expecting to have a Bible for nothing, you are mistaken -
+we - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I would scorn to have a Bible for nothing,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;or
+anything else; I came not to beg, but to barter; there is no shame in
+that, especially in a country like this, where all folks barter.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, we don&rsquo;t barter,&rsquo; said the precise man, &lsquo;at
+least Bibles; you had better depart.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Stay, brother,&rsquo; said the man with the countenance of a
+lion, &lsquo;let us ask a few questions; this may be a very important
+case; perhaps the young man has had convictions.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not I,&rsquo; I exclaimed, &lsquo;I am convinced of nothing,
+and with regard to the Bible - I don&rsquo;t believe - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hey!&rsquo; said the man with the lion countenance, and there
+he stopped.&nbsp; But with that &lsquo;Hey&rsquo; the walls of the house
+seemed to shake, the windows rattled, and the porter whom I had seen
+in front of the house came running up the steps, and looked into the
+apartment through the glass of the door.<br>
+<br>
+There was silence for about a minute - the same kind of silence which
+succeeds a clap of thunder.<br>
+<br>
+At last the man with the lion countenance, who had kept his eyes fixed
+upon me, said calmly, &lsquo;Were you about to say that you don&rsquo;t
+believe in the Bible, young man?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No more than in anything else,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;you were
+talking of convictions - I have no convictions.&nbsp; It is not easy
+to believe in the Bible till one is convinced that there is a Bible.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He seems to be insane,&rsquo; said the prim-looking man; &lsquo;we
+had better order the porter to turn him out.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am by no means certain,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that the porter
+could turn me out; always provided there is a porter, and this system
+of ours be not a lie, and a dream.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come,&rsquo; said the lion-looking man, impatiently, &lsquo;a
+truce with this nonsense.&nbsp; If the porter cannot turn you out, perhaps
+some other person can; but to the point - you want a Bible?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but not for myself; I was sent by
+another person to offer something in exchange for one.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And who is that person?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A poor old woman, who has had what you call convictions, - heard
+voices, or thought she heard them - I forgot to ask her whether they
+were loud ones.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What has she sent to offer in exchange?&rsquo; said the man,
+without taking any notice of the concluding part of my speech.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A book,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Let me see it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nay, brother,&rsquo; said the precise man, &lsquo;this will never
+do; if we once adopt the system of barter, we shall have all the holders
+of useless rubbish in the town applying to us.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish to see what he has brought,&rsquo; said the other; &lsquo;perhaps
+Baxter, or Jewell&rsquo;s <i>Apology</i>, either of which would make
+a valuable addition to our collection.&nbsp; Well, young man, what&rsquo;s
+the matter with you?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I stood like one petrified; I had put my hand into my pocket - the book
+was gone.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rsquo; repeated the man with the lion
+countenance, in a voice very much resembling thunder.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have it not - I have lost it!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A pretty story, truly,&rsquo; said the precise-looking man, &lsquo;lost
+it!&nbsp; You had better retire,&rsquo; said the other.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How shall I appear before the party who intrusted me with the
+book?&nbsp; She will certainly think that I have purloined it, notwithstanding
+all I can say; nor, indeed, can I blame her, - appearances are certainly
+against me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They are so - you had better retire.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I moved towards the door.&nbsp; &lsquo;Stay, young man, one word more;
+there is only one way of proceeding which would induce me to believe
+that you are sincere.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is that?&rsquo; said I, stopping and looking at him anxiously.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The purchase of a Bible.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Purchase!&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;purchase!&nbsp; I came not to
+purchase, but to barter; such was my instruction, and how can I barter
+if I have lost the book?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The other made no answer, and turning away I made for the door; all
+of a sudden I started, and turning round, &lsquo;Dear me,&rsquo; said
+I, &lsquo;it has just come into my head, that if the book was lost by
+my negligence, as it must have been, I have clearly a right to make
+it good.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+No answer.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; I repeated, &lsquo;I have clearly a right to make
+it good; how glad I am! see the effect of a little reflection.&nbsp;
+I will purchase a Bible instantly, that is, if I have not lost - &rsquo;
+and with considerable agitation I felt in my pocket.<br>
+<br>
+The prim-looking man smiled: &lsquo;I suppose,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;that
+he has lost his money as well as book.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I have not&rsquo;; and pulling out
+my hand I displayed no less a sum than three half-crowns.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, noble goddess of the Mint!&rsquo; as Dame Charlotta Nordenflycht,
+the Swede, said a hundred and fifty years ago, &lsquo;great is thy power;
+how energetically the possession of thee speaks in favour of man&rsquo;s
+character!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Only half-a-crown for this Bible?&rsquo; said I, putting down
+the money, &lsquo;it is worth three&rsquo;; and bowing to the man of
+the noble features, I departed with my purchase.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Queer customer,&rsquo; said the prim-looking man, as I was about
+to close the door - &lsquo;don&rsquo;t like him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, as to that, I scarcely know what to say,&rsquo; said he
+of the countenance of a lion.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLVI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The pickpocket - Strange rencounter - Drag him along - A great service
+- Things of importance - Philological matters - Mother of languages
+- Zhats!<br>
+<br>
+A few days after the occurrence of what is recorded in the last chapter,
+as I was wandering in the City, chance directed my footsteps to an alley
+leading from one narrow street to another in the neighbourhood of Cheapside.&nbsp;
+Just before I reached the mouth of the alley, a man in a greatcoat,
+closely followed by another, passed it; and, at the moment in which
+they were passing, I observed the man behind snatch something from the
+pocket of the other; whereupon, darting into the street, I seized the
+hindermost man by the collar, crying at the same time to the other,
+&lsquo;My good friend, this person has just picked your pocket.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The individual whom I addressed, turning round with a start, glanced
+at me, and then at the person whom I held.&nbsp; London is the place
+for strange rencounters.&nbsp; It appeared to me that I recognised both
+individuals - the man whose pocket had been picked and the other; the
+latter now began to struggle violently; &lsquo;I have picked no one&rsquo;s
+pocket,&rsquo; said he.&nbsp; &lsquo;Rascal,&rsquo; said the other,
+&lsquo;you have got my pocket-book in your bosom.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;No,
+I have not,&rsquo; said the other; and, struggling more violently than
+before, the pocket-book dropped from his bosom upon the ground.<br>
+<br>
+The other was now about to lay hands upon the fellow, who was still
+struggling.&nbsp; &lsquo;You had better take up your book,&rsquo; said
+I; &lsquo;I can hold him.&rsquo;&nbsp; He followed my advice; and, taking
+up his pocket-book, surveyed my prisoner with a ferocious look, occasionally
+glaring at me.&nbsp; Yes, I had seen him before - it was the stranger
+whom I had observed on London Bridge, by the stall of the old apple-woman,
+with the cap and cloak; but, instead of these, he now wore a hat and
+greatcoat.&nbsp; &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, at last, &lsquo;what am
+I to do with this gentleman of ours?&rsquo; nodding to the prisoner,
+who had now left off struggling.&nbsp; &lsquo;Shall I let him go?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Go!&rsquo; said the other; &lsquo;go!&nbsp; The knave - the rascal;
+let him go, indeed!&nbsp; Not so, he shall go before the Lord Mayor.&nbsp;
+Bring him along.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, let me go,&rsquo; said the other: &lsquo;let me go; this
+is the first offence, I assure ye - the first time I ever thought to
+do anything wrong.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hold your tongue,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;or I shall be angry with
+you.&nbsp; If I am not very much mistaken, you once attempted to cheat
+me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never saw you before in all my life,&rsquo; said the fellow,
+though his countenance seemed to belie his words.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That is not true,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;you are the man who attempted
+to cheat me of one-and-ninepence in the coach-yard, on the first morning
+of my arrival in London.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t doubt it,&rsquo; said the other; &lsquo;a confirmed
+thief&rsquo;; and here his tones became peculiarly sharp; &lsquo;I would
+fain see him hanged - crucified.&nbsp; Drag him along.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am no constable,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;you have got your pocket-book,
+- I would rather you would bid me let him go.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bid you let him go!&rsquo; said the other almost furiously, &lsquo;I
+command - stay, what was I going to say?&nbsp; I was forgetting myself,&rsquo;
+he observed more gently; &lsquo;but he stole my pocket-book; - if you
+did but know what it contained.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;if it contains anything valuable,
+be the more thankful that you have recovered it; as for the man, I will
+help you to take him where you please; but I wish you would let him
+go.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The stranger hesitated, and there was an extraordinary play of emotion
+in his features: he looked ferociously at the pickpocket, and, more
+than once, somewhat suspiciously at myself; at last his countenance
+cleared, and, with a good grace, he said, &lsquo;Well, you have done
+me a great service, and you have my consent to let him go; but the rascal
+shall not escape with impunity,&rsquo; he exclaimed suddenly, as I let
+the man go, and starting forward, before the fellow could escape, he
+struck him a violent blow on the face.&nbsp; The man staggered, and
+had nearly fallen; recovering himself, however, he said, &lsquo;I tell
+you what, my fellow; if I ever meet you in this street in a dark night,
+and I have a knife about me, it shall be the worse for you; as for you,
+young man,&rsquo; said he to me; but, observing that the other was making
+towards him, he left whatever he was about to say unfinished, and, taking
+to his heels, was out of sight in a moment.<br>
+<br>
+The stranger and myself walked in the direction of Cheapside, the way
+in which he had been originally proceeding; he was silent for a few
+moments, at length he said, &lsquo;You have really done me a great service,
+and I should be ungrateful not to acknowledge it.&nbsp; I am a merchant;
+and a merchant&rsquo;s pocket-book, as you perhaps know, contains many
+things of importance; but, young man,&rsquo; he exclaimed, &lsquo;I
+think I have seen you before; I thought so at first, but where I cannot
+exactly say: where was it?&rsquo;&nbsp; I mentioned London Bridge and
+the old apple-woman.&nbsp; &lsquo;Oh,&rsquo; said he, and smiled, and
+there was something peculiar in his smile, &lsquo;I remember now.&nbsp;
+Do you frequently sit on London Bridge?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Occasionally,&rsquo;
+said I; &lsquo;that old woman is an old friend of mine.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Friend?&rsquo; said the stranger, &lsquo;I am glad of it, for
+I shall know where to find you.&nbsp; At present I am going to &lsquo;Change;
+time, you know, is precious to a merchant.&rsquo;&nbsp; We were by this
+time close to Cheapside.&nbsp; &lsquo;Farewell,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;I
+shall not forget this service.&nbsp; I trust we shall soon meet again.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+He then shook me by the hand and went his way.<br>
+<br>
+The next day, as I was seated beside the old woman in the booth, the
+stranger again made his appearance, and, after a word or two, sat down
+beside me; the old woman was sometimes reading the Bible, which she
+had already had two or three days in her possession, and sometimes discoursing
+with me.&nbsp; Our discourse rolled chiefly on philological matters.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you call bread in your language?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You mean the language of those who bring me things to buy, or
+who did; for, as I told you before, I shan&rsquo;t buy any more; it&rsquo;s
+no language of mine, dear - they call bread pannam in their language.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pannam!&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;pannam! evidently connected with,
+if not derived from, the Latin panis; even as the word tanner, which
+signifieth a sixpence, is connected with, if not derived from, the Latin
+tener, which is itself connected with, if not derived from, tawno or
+tawner, which, in the language of Mr. Petulengro, signifieth a sucking
+child.&nbsp; Let me see, what is the term for bread in the language
+of Mr. Petulengro?&nbsp; Morro, or manro, as I have sometimes heard
+it called; is there not some connection between these words and panis?&nbsp;
+Yes, I think there is; and I should not wonder if morro, manro, and
+panis were connected, perhaps derived from, the same root; but what
+is that root?&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t know - I wish I did; though, perhaps,
+I should not be the happier.&nbsp; Morro - manro!&nbsp; I rather think
+morro is the oldest form; it is easier to say morro than manro.&nbsp;
+Morro!&nbsp; Irish, aran; Welsh, bara; English, bread.&nbsp; I can see
+a resemblance between all the words, and pannam too; and I rather think
+that the Petulengrian word is the elder.&nbsp; How odd it would be if
+the language of Mr. Petulengro should eventually turn out to be the
+mother of all the languages in the world; yet it is certain that there
+are some languages in which the terms for bread have no connection with
+the word used by Mr. Petulengro, notwithstanding that those languages,
+in many other points, exhibit a close affinity to the language of the
+horse-shoe master: for example, bread, in Hebrew, is Laham, which assuredly
+exhibits little similitude to the word used by the aforesaid Petulengro.&nbsp;
+In Armenian it is - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Zhats!&rsquo; said the stranger, starting up.&nbsp; &lsquo;By
+the Patriarch and the Three Holy Churches, this is wonderful!&nbsp;
+How came you to know aught of Armenian?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLVII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+New acquaintance - Wired cases - Bread and wine - Armenian colonies
+- Learning without money - What a language - The tide - Your foible
+- Learning of the Haiks - Old proverb - Pressing invitation.<br>
+<br>
+Just as I was about to reply to the interrogation of my new-formed acquaintance,
+a man with a dusky countenance, probably one of the Lascars, or Mulattos,
+of whom the old woman had spoken, came up and whispered to him, and
+with this man he presently departed, not however before he had told
+me the place of his abode, and requested me to visit him.<br>
+<br>
+After the lapse of a few days, I called at the house which he had indicated.&nbsp;
+It was situated in a dark and narrow street, in the heart of the City,
+at no great distance from the Bank.&nbsp; I entered a counting-room,
+in which a solitary clerk, with a foreign look, was writing.&nbsp; The
+stranger was not at home; returning the next day, however, I met him
+at the door as he was about to enter; he shook me warmly by the hand.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I am glad to see you,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;follow me, I was
+just thinking of you.&rsquo;&nbsp; He led me through the counting-room,
+to an apartment up a flight of stairs; before ascending, however, he
+looked into the book in which the foreign-visaged clerk was writing,
+and, seemingly not satisfied with the manner in which he was executing
+his task, he gave him two or three cuffs, telling him at the same time
+that he deserved crucifixion.<br>
+<br>
+The apartment above stairs, to which he led me, was large, with three
+windows, which opened upon the street.&nbsp; The walls were hung with
+wired cases, apparently containing books.&nbsp; There was a table and
+two or three chairs; but the principal article of furniture was a long
+sofa, extending from the door by which we entered to the farther end
+of the apartment.&nbsp; Seating himself upon the sofa, my new acquaintance
+motioned to me to sit beside him, and then, looking me full in the face,
+repeated his former inquiry.&nbsp; &lsquo;In the name of all that is
+wonderful, how came you to know aught of my language?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There is nothing wonderful in that,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;we
+are at the commencement of a philological age, every one studies languages;
+that is, every one who is fit for nothing else; philology being the
+last resource of dulness and ennui, I have got a little in advance of
+the throng, by mastering the Armenian alphabet; but I foresee the time
+when every unmarriageable miss, and desperate blockhead, will likewise
+have acquired the letters of Mesroub, and will know the term for bread,
+in Armenian, and perhaps that for wine.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Kini,&rsquo; said my companion; and that and the other word put
+me in mind of the duties of hospitality.&nbsp; &lsquo;Will you eat bread
+and drink wine with me?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Willingly,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; Whereupon my companion, unlocking
+a closet, produced, on a silver salver, a loaf of bread, with a silver-handled
+knife, and wine in a silver flask, with cups of the same metal.&nbsp;
+&lsquo; I hope you like my fare,&rsquo; said he, after we had both eaten
+and drunk.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I like your bread,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;for it is stale; I like
+not your wine, it is sweet, and I hate sweet wine.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is wine of Cyprus,&rsquo; said my entertainer; and, when I
+found that it was wine of Cyprus, I tasted it again, and the second
+taste pleased me much better than the first, notwithstanding that I
+still thought it somewhat sweet.&nbsp; &lsquo;So,&rsquo; said I, after
+a pause, looking at my companion, &lsquo;you are an Armenian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;an Armenian born in London, but not
+less an Armenian on that account.&nbsp; My father was a native of Ispahan,
+one of the celebrated Armenian colony which was established there shortly
+after the time of the dreadful hunger, which drove the children of Haik
+in swarms from their original country, and scattered them over most
+parts of the eastern and western world.&nbsp; In Ispahan he passed the
+greater portion of his life, following mercantile pursuits with considerable
+success.&nbsp; Certain enemies, however, having accused him to the despot
+of the place, of using seditious language, he was compelled to flee,
+leaving most of his property behind.&nbsp; Travelling in the direction
+of the west, he came at last to London, where he established himself,
+and where he eventually died, leaving behind a large property and myself,
+his only child, the fruit of a marriage with an Armenian Englishwoman,
+who did not survive my birth more than three months.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Armenian then proceeded to tell me that he had carried on the business
+of his father, which seemed to embrace most matters, from buying silks
+of Lascars, to speculating in the funds, and that he had considerably
+increased the property which his father had left him.&nbsp; He candidly
+confessed that he was wonderfully fond of gold, and said there was nothing
+like it for giving a person respectability and consideration in the
+world: to which assertion I made no answer, being not exactly prepared
+to contradict it.<br>
+<br>
+And, when he had related to me his history, he expressed a desire to
+know something more of myself, whereupon I gave him the outline of my
+history, concluding with saying, &lsquo;I am now a poor author, or rather
+philologist, upon the streets of London, possessed of many tongues,
+which I find of no use in the world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Learning without money is anything but desirable,&rsquo; said
+the Armenian, &lsquo;as it unfits a man for humble occupations.&nbsp;
+It is true that it may occasionally beget him friends; I confess to
+you that your understanding something of my language weighs more with
+me than the service you rendered me in rescuing my pocket-book the other
+day from the claws of that scoundrel whom I yet hope to see hanged,
+if not crucified, notwithstanding there were in that pocket-book papers
+and documents of considerable value.&nbsp; Yes, that circumstance makes
+my heart warm towards you, for I am proud of my language - as I indeed
+well may be - what a language, noble and energetic! quite original,
+differing from all others both in words and structure.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are mistaken,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;many languages resemble
+the Armenian both in structure and words.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;For example?&rsquo; said the Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;For example,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;the English.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The English!&rsquo; said the Armenian; &lsquo;show me one word
+in which the English resembles the Armenian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You walk on London Bridge,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I saw you look over the balustrade the other morning.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;True,&rsquo; said the Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, what did you see rushing up through the arches with noise
+and foam?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What was it?&rsquo; said the Armenian.&nbsp; &lsquo;What was
+it? - you don&rsquo;t mean the <i>tide?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+</i>&lsquo;Do I not?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, what has the tide to do with the matter?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Much,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;what is the tide?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The ebb and flow of the sea,&rsquo; said the Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The sea itself; what is the Haik word for sea?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Armenian gave a strong gasp; then, nodding his head thrice, &lsquo;You
+are right,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;the English word tide is the Armenian
+for sea; and now I begin to perceive that there are many English words
+which are Armenian; there is - and -; and there again in French, there
+is - and - derived from the Armenian.&nbsp; How strange, how singular
+- I thank you.&nbsp; It is a proud thing to see that the language of
+my race has had so much influence over the languages of the world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I saw that all that related to his race was the weak point of the Armenian.&nbsp;
+I did not flatter the Armenian with respect to his race or language.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;An inconsiderable people,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;shrewd and industrious,
+but still an inconsiderable people.&nbsp; A language bold and expressive,
+and of some antiquity, derived, though perhaps not immediately, from
+some much older tongue.&nbsp; I do not think that the Armenian has had
+any influence over the formation of the languages of the world, I am
+not much indebted to the Armenian for the solution of any doubts; whereas
+to the language of Mr. Petulengro - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have heard you mention that name before,&rsquo; said the Armenian;
+&lsquo;who is Mr. Petulengro?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And then I told the Armenian who Mr. Petulengro was.&nbsp; The Armenian
+spoke contemptuously of Mr. Petulengro and his race.&nbsp; &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t
+speak contemptuously of Mr. Petulengro,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;nor of
+anything belonging to him.&nbsp; He is a dark mysterious personage;
+all connected with him is a mystery, especially his language; but I
+believe that his language is doomed to solve a great philological problem
+- Mr. Petulengo - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You appear agitated,&rsquo; said the Armenian; &lsquo;take another
+glass of wine; you possess a great deal of philological knowledge, but
+it appears to me that the language of this Petulengro is your foible:
+but let us change the subject; I feel much interested in you, and would
+fain be of service to you.&nbsp; Can you cast accounts?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I shook my head.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Keep books?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have an idea that I could write books,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but,
+as to keeping them - &rsquo; and here again I shook my head.<br>
+<br>
+The Armenian was silent some time; all at once, glancing at one of the
+wire cases, with which, as I have already said, the walls of the room
+were hung, he asked me if I was well acquainted with the learning of
+the Haiks.&nbsp; &lsquo;The books in these cases,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;contain
+the masterpieces of Haik learning.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;all I know of the learning of the Haiks
+is their translation of the Bible.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You have never read Z-?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I have never read Z-.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have a plan,&rsquo; said the Armenian; &lsquo;I think I can
+employ you agreeably and profitably; I should like to see Z- in an English
+dress; you shall translate Z-&nbsp; If you can read the Scriptures in
+Armenian, you can translate Z-.&nbsp; He is our Esop, the most acute
+and clever of all our moral writers - his philosophy - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will have nothing to do with him,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Wherefore?&rsquo; said the Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There is an old proverb,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;&ldquo;that a
+burnt child avoids the fire.&rdquo;&nbsp; I have burnt my hands sufficiently
+with attempting to translate philosophy, to make me cautious of venturing
+upon it again&rsquo;; and then I told the Armenian how I had been persuaded
+by the publisher to translate his philosophy into German, and what sorry
+thanks I had received; &lsquo;And who knows,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but
+the attempt to translate Armenian philosophy into English might he attended
+with yet more disagreeable consequences?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Armenian smiled.&nbsp; &lsquo;You would find me very different from
+the publisher.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In many points I have no doubt I should,&rsquo; I replied; &lsquo;but
+at the present moment I feel like a bird which has escaped from a cage,
+and, though hungry, feels no disposition to return.&nbsp; Of what nation
+is the dark man below stairs, whom I saw writing at the desk?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He is a Moldave,&rsquo; said the Armenian; &lsquo;the dog (and
+here his eyes sparkled) deserves to be crucified, he is continually
+making mistakes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Armenian again renewed his proposition about Z-, which I again refused,
+as I felt but little inclination to place myself beneath the jurisdiction
+of a person who was in the habit of cuffing those whom he employed,
+when they made mistakes.&nbsp; I presently took my departure; not, however,
+before I had received from the Armenian a pressing invitation to call
+upon him whenever I should feel disposed.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLVIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+What to do - Strong enough - Fame and profit - Alliterative euphony
+- Excellent fellow - Listen to me - A plan - Bagnigge Wells.<br>
+<br>
+Anxious thoughts frequently disturbed me at this time with respect to
+what I was to do, and how support myself in the Great City.&nbsp; My
+future prospects were gloomy enough, and I looked forward and feared;
+sometimes I felt half disposed to accept the offer of the Armenian,
+and to commence forthwith, under his superintendence, the translation
+of the Haik Esop; but the remembrance of the cuffs which I had seen
+him bestow upon the Moldavian, when glancing over his shoulder into
+the ledger or whatever it was on which he was employed, immediately
+drove the inclination from my mind.&nbsp; I could not support the idea
+of the possibility of his staring over my shoulder upon my translation
+of the Haik Esop, and, dissatisfied with my attempts, treating me as
+he had treated the Moldavian clerk; placing myself in a position which
+exposed me to such treatment would indeed be plunging into the fire
+after escaping from the frying-pan.&nbsp; The publisher, insolent and
+overbearing as he was, whatever he might have wished or thought, had
+never lifted his hand against me, or told me that I merited crucifixion.<br>
+<br>
+What was I to do? turn porter?&nbsp; I was strong; but there was something
+besides strength required to ply the trade of a porter - a mind of a
+particularly phlegmatic temperament, which I did not possess.&nbsp;
+What should I do? enlist as a soldier? I was tall enough; but something
+besides height is required to make a man play with credit the part of
+soldier, I mean a private one - a spirit, if spirit it can be called,
+which will not only enable a man to submit with patience to insolence
+and abuse, and even to cuffs and kicks, but occasionally to the lash.&nbsp;
+I felt that I was not qualified to be a soldier, at least a private
+one; far better be a drudge to the most ferocious of publishers, editing
+Newgate lives, and writing in eighteenpenny reviews - better to translate
+the Haik Esop, under the superintendence of ten Armenians, than be a
+private soldier in the English service; I did not decide rashly - I
+knew something of soldiering.&nbsp; What should I do?&nbsp; I thought
+that I would make a last and desperate attempt to dispose of the ballads
+and of Ab Gwilym.<br>
+<br>
+I had still an idea that, provided I could persuade any spirited publisher
+to give these translations to the world, I should acquire both considerable
+fame and profit; not, perhaps, a world-embracing fame such as Byron&rsquo;s;
+but a fame not to be sneered at, which would last me a considerable
+time, and would keep my heart from breaking; - profit, not equal to
+that which Scott had made by his wondrous novels, but which would prevent
+me from starving, and enable me to achieve some other literary enterprise.&nbsp;
+I read and re-read my ballads, and the more I read them the more I was
+convinced that the public, in the event of their being published, would
+freely purchase, and hail them with the merited applause.&nbsp; Were
+not the deeds and adventures wonderful and heart-stirring - from which
+it is true I could claim no merit, being but the translator; but had
+I not rendered them into English, with all their original fire?&nbsp;
+Yes, I was confident I had; and I had no doubt that the public would
+say so.&nbsp; And then, with respect to Ab Gwilym, had I not done as
+much justice to him as to the Danish ballads; not only rendering faithfully
+his thoughts, imagery, and phraseology, but even preserving in my translation
+the alliterative euphony which constitutes one of the most remarkable
+features of Welsh prosody?&nbsp; Yes, I had accomplished all this; and
+I doubted not that the public would receive my translations from Ab
+Gwilym with quite as much eagerness as my version of the Danish ballads.&nbsp;
+But I found the publishers as intractable as ever, and to this day the
+public has never had an opportunity of doing justice to the glowing
+fire of my ballad versification, and the alliterative euphony of my
+imitations of Ab Gwilym.<br>
+<br>
+I had not seen Francis Ardry since the day I had seen him taking lessons
+in elocution.&nbsp; One afternoon as I was seated at my table, my head
+resting on my hands, he entered my apartment; sitting down, he inquired
+of me why I had not been to see him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I might ask the same question of you,&rsquo; I replied.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Wherefore have you not been to see me?&rsquo;&nbsp; Whereupon
+Francis Ardry told me that he had been much engaged in his oratorical
+exercises, also in escorting the young Frenchwoman about to places of
+public amusement; he then again questioned me as to the reason of my
+not having been to see him.<br>
+<br>
+I returned an evasive answer.&nbsp; The truth was, that for some time
+past my appearance, owing to the state of my finances, had been rather
+shabby; and I did not wish to expose a fashionable young man like Francis
+Ardry, who lived in a fashionable neighbourhood, to the imputation of
+having a shabby acquaintance.&nbsp; I was aware that Francis Ardry was
+an excellent fellow; but, on that very account, I felt, under existing
+circumstances, a delicacy in visiting him.<br>
+<br>
+It is very possible that he had an inkling of how matters stood, as
+he presently began to talk of my affairs and prospects.&nbsp; I told
+him of my late ill success with the booksellers, and inveighed against
+their blindness to their own interest in refusing to publish my translations.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;The last that I addressed myself to,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;told
+me not to trouble him again unless I could bring him a decent novel
+or a tale.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said Frank, &lsquo;and why did you not carry him
+a decent novel or a tale?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because I have neither,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;and to write them
+is, I believe, above my capacity.&nbsp; At present I feel divested of
+all energy - heartless, and almost hopeless.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I see how it is,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry, &lsquo;you have overworked
+yourself, and, worst of all, to no purpose.&nbsp; Take my advice; cast
+all care aside, and only think of diverting yourself for a month at
+least.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Divert myself!&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;and where am I to find the
+means?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Be that care on my shoulders,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Listen to me - my uncles have been so delighted with the favourable
+accounts which they have lately received from T- of my progress in oratory,
+that, in the warmth of their hearts, they made me a present yesterday
+of two hundred pounds.&nbsp; This is more money than I want, at least
+for the present; do me the favour to take half of it as a loan - hear
+me,&rsquo; said he, observing that I was about to interrupt him; &lsquo;I
+have a plan in my head - one of the prettiest in the world.&nbsp; The
+sister of my charmer is just arrived from France; she cannot speak a
+word of English; and, as Annette and myself are much engaged in our
+own matters, we cannot pay her the attention which we should wish, and
+which she deserves, for she is a truly fascinating creature, although
+somewhat differing from my charmer, having blue eyes and flaxen hair;
+whilst, Annette, on the contrary - But I hope you will shortly see Annette.&nbsp;
+Now, my plan is this - Take the money, dress yourself fashionably, and
+conduct Annette&rsquo;s sister to Bagnigge Wells.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what should we do at Bagnigge Wells?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do!&rsquo; said Francis Ardry.&nbsp; &lsquo;Dance!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I scarcely know anything of dancing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then here&rsquo;s an excellent opportunity of improving yourself.&nbsp;
+Like most Frenchwomen, she dances divinely; however, if you object to
+Bagnigge Wells and dancing, go to Brighton, and remain there a month
+or two, at the end of which time you can return with your mind refreshed
+and invigorated, and materials, perhaps, for a tale or novel.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never heard a more foolish, plan,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;or
+one less likely to terminate profitably or satisfactorily.&nbsp; I thank
+you, however, for your offer, which is, I daresay, well meant.&nbsp;
+If I am to escape from my cares and troubles, and find my mind refreshed
+and invigorated, I must adopt other means than conducting a French demoiselle
+to Brighton or Bagnigge Wells, defraying the expense by borrowing from
+a friend.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLIX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Singular personage - A large sum - Papa of Rome - We are Christians
+- Degenerate Armenians - Roots of Ararat - Regular features.<br>
+<br>
+The Armenian!&nbsp; I frequently saw this individual, availing myself
+of the permission which he had given me to call upon him.&nbsp; A truly
+singular personage was he, with his love of amassing money, and his
+nationality so strong as to be akin to poetry.&nbsp; Many an Armenian
+I have subsequently known fond of money-getting, and not destitute of
+national spirit; but never another, who, in the midst of his schemes
+of lucre, was at all times willing to enter into a conversation on the
+structure of the Haik language, or who ever offered me money to render
+into English the fables of Z- in the hope of astonishing the stock-jobbers
+of the Exchange with the wisdom of the Haik Esop.<br>
+<br>
+But he was fond of money, very fond.&nbsp; Within a little time I had
+won his confidence to such a degree that he informed me that the grand
+wish of his heart was to be possessed of two hundred thousand pounds.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I think you might satisfy yourself with the half,&rsquo; said
+I.&nbsp; &lsquo;One hundred thousand pounds is a large sum.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are mistaken,&rsquo; said the Armenian, &lsquo;a hundred
+thousand pounds is nothing.&nbsp; My father left me that or more at
+his death.&nbsp; No, I shall never be satisfied with less than two.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what will you do with your riches,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;when
+you have obtained them?&nbsp; Will you sit down and muse upon them,
+or will you deposit them in a cellar, and go down once a day to stare
+at them?&nbsp; I have heard say that the fulfilment of one&rsquo;s wishes
+is invariably the precursor of extreme misery, and forsooth I can scarcely
+conceive a more horrible state of existence than to be without a hope
+or wish.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is bad enough, I daresay,&rsquo; said the Armenian; &lsquo;it
+will, however, be time enough to think of disposing of the money when
+I have procured it.&nbsp; I still fall short by a vast sum of the two
+hundred thousand pounds.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I had occasionally much conversation with him on the state and prospects
+of his nation, especially of that part of it which still continued in
+the original country of the Haiks - Ararat and its confines, which,
+it appeared, he had frequently visited.&nbsp; He informed me that since
+the death of the last Haik monarch, which occurred in the eleventh century,
+Armenia had been governed both temporally and spiritually by certain
+personages called patriarchs; their temporal authority, however, was
+much circumscribed by the Persian and Turk, especially the former, of
+whom the Armenian spoke with much hatred, whilst their spiritual authority
+had at various times been considerably undermined by the emissaries
+of the Papa of Rome, as the Armenian called him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Papa of Rome sent his emissaries at an early period amongst
+us,&rsquo; said the Armenian, &lsquo;seducing the minds of weak-headed
+people, persuading them that the hillocks of Rome are higher than the
+ridges of Ararat; that the Roman Papa has more to say in heaven than
+the Armenian patriarch, and that puny Latin is a better language than
+nervous and sonorous Haik.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They are both dialects,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;of the language
+of Mr. Petulengro, one of whose race I believe to have been the original
+founder of Rome; but, with respect to religion, what are the chief points
+of your faith? you are Christians, I believe.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the Armenian, &lsquo;we are Christians in our
+way; we believe in God, the Holy Spirit, and Saviour, though we are
+not prepared to admit that the last personage is not only himself, but
+the other two.&nbsp; We believe . . .&rsquo; and then the Armenian told
+me of several things which the Haiks believed or disbelieved.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;But what we find most hard of all to believe,&rsquo; said he,
+&lsquo;is that the man of the mole-hills is entitled to our allegiance,
+he not being a Haik, or understanding the Haik language.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But, by your own confession,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;he has introduced
+a schism in your nation, and has amongst you many that believe in him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is true,&rsquo; said the Armenian, I that even on the confines
+of Ararat there are a great number who consider that mountain to be
+lower than the hillocks of Rome; but the greater number of degenerate
+Armenians are to be found amongst those who have wandered to the west;
+most of the Haik churches of the west consider Rome to be higher than
+Ararat - most of the Armenians of this place hold that dogma; I, however,
+have always stood firm in the contrary opinion.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ha! ha!&rsquo; - here the Armenian laughed in his peculiar manner
+- &lsquo;talking of this matter puts me in mind of an adventure which
+lately befell me, with one of the emissaries of the Papa of Rome, for
+the Papa of Rome has at present many emissaries in this country, in
+order to seduce the people from their own quiet religion to the savage
+heresy of Rome; this fellow came to me partly in the hope of converting
+me, but principally to extort money for the purpose of furthering the
+designs of Rome in this country.&nbsp; I humoured the fellow at first,
+keeping him in play for nearly a month, deceiving and laughing at him.&nbsp;
+At last he discovered that he could make nothing of me, and departed
+with the scowl of Caiaphas, whilst I cried after him, &lsquo;The roots
+of Ararat are <i>deeper</i> than those of Rome.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Armenian had occasionally reverted to the subject of the translation
+of the Haik Esop, which he had still a lurking desire that I should
+execute; but I had invariably declined the undertaking, without, however,
+stating my reasons.&nbsp; On one occasion, when we had been conversing
+on the subject, the Armenian, who had been observing my countenance
+for some time with much attention, remarked, &lsquo;Perhaps, after all,
+you are right, and you might employ your time to better advantage.&nbsp;
+Literature is a fine thing, especially Haik literature, but neither
+that nor any other would be likely to serve as a foundation to a man&rsquo;s
+fortune: and to make a fortune should be the principal aim of every
+one&rsquo;s life; therefore listen to me.&nbsp; Accept a seat at the
+desk opposite to my Moldavian clerk, and receive the rudiments of a
+merchant&rsquo;s education.&nbsp; You shall be instructed in the Armenian
+way of doing business - I think you would make an excellent merchant.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why do you think so?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because you have something of the Armenian look.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I understand you,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;you mean to say that
+I squint!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not exactly,&rsquo; said the Armenian, &lsquo;but there is certainly
+a kind of irregularity in your features.&nbsp; One eye appears to me
+larger than the other - never mind, but rather rejoice; in that irregularity
+consists your strength.&nbsp; All people with regular features are fools;
+it is very hard for them, you&rsquo;ll say, but there is no help: all
+we can do, who are not in such a predicament, is to pity those who are.&nbsp;
+Well! will you accept my offer?&nbsp; No! you are a singular individual;
+but I must not forget my own concerns.&nbsp; I must now go forth, having
+an appointment by which I hope to make money.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER L<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Wish fulfilled - Extraordinary figure - Bueno - Noah - The two faces
+- I don&rsquo;t blame him - Too fond of money - Were I an Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+The fulfilment of the Armenian&rsquo;s grand wish was nearer at hand
+than either he or I had anticipated.&nbsp; Partly owing to the success
+of a bold speculation, in which he had some time previously engaged,
+and partly owing to the bequest of a large sum of money by one of his
+nation who died at this period in Paris, he found himself in the possession
+of a fortune somewhat exceeding two hundred thousand pounds; this fact
+he communicated to me one evening about an hour after the close of &lsquo;Change;
+the hour at which I generally called, and at which I mostly found him
+at home.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and what do you intend to do next?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I scarcely know,&rsquo; said the Armenian.&nbsp; &lsquo;I was
+thinking of that when you came in.&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t see anything
+that I can do, save going on in my former course.&nbsp; After all, I
+was perhaps too moderate in making the possession of two hundred thousand
+pounds the summit of my ambition; there are many individuals in this
+town who possess three times that sum, and are not yet satisfied.&nbsp;
+No, I think I can do no better than pursue the old career; who knows
+but I may make the two hundred thousand three or four? - there is already
+a surplus, which is an encouragement; however, we will consider the
+matter over a goblet of wine; I have observed of late that you have
+become partial to my Cyprus.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And it came to pass that, as we were seated over the Cyprus wine, we
+heard a knock at the door.&nbsp; &lsquo;Adelante!&rsquo; cried the Armenian;
+whereupon the door opened, and in walked a somewhat extraordinary figure
+- a man in a long loose tunic of a stuff striped with black and yellow;
+breeches of plush velvet, silk stockings, and shoes with silver buckles.&nbsp;
+On his head he wore a high-peaked hat; he was tall, had a hooked nose,
+and in age was about fifty.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Welcome, Rabbi Manasseh,&rsquo; said the Armenian.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+know your knock - you are welcome; sit down.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am welcome,&rsquo; said Manasseh, sitting down; &lsquo;he -
+he - he! you know my knock - I bring you money - <i>bueno</i>!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+There was something very peculiar in the sound of that bueno - I never
+forgot it.<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon a conversation ensued between Rabbi Manasseh and the Armenian,
+in a language which I knew to be Spanish, though a peculiar dialect.&nbsp;
+It related to a mercantile transaction.&nbsp; The Rabbi sighed heavily
+as he delivered to the other a considerable sum of money.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is right,&rsquo; said the Armenian, handing a receipt.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;It is right; and I am quite satisfied.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are satisfied - you have taken money.&nbsp; <i>Bueno</i>,
+I have nothing to say against your being satisfied.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come, Rabbi,&rsquo; said the Armenian, &lsquo;do not despond;
+it may be your turn next to take money; in the meantime, can&rsquo;t
+you be persuaded to taste my Cyprus?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He - he - he! se&ntilde;or, you know I do not love wine.&nbsp;
+I love Noah when he is himself; but, as Janus, I love him not.&nbsp;
+But you are merry; <i>bueno</i>, you have a right to be so.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Excuse me,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but does Noah ever appear as
+Janus?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He - he - he!&rsquo; said the Rabbi, &lsquo;he only appeared
+as Janus once - una vez quando estuvo borracho; which means - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I understand,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;when he was . . .&rsquo;
+and I drew the side of my right hand sharply across my left wrist.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are you one of our people?&rsquo; said the Rabbi.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am one of the Goyim; but I am only
+half enlightened.&nbsp; Why should Noah be Janus when he was in that
+state?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He - he - he! you must know that in Lasan akhades wine is janin.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In Armenian, kini,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;in Welsh, gwin; Latin,
+vinum; but do you think that Janus and janin are one?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do I think?&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t the commentators say so?&nbsp;
+Does not Master Leo Abarbenel say so in his <i>Dialogues of Divine Love</i>&rsquo;?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I always thought that Janus was a
+god of the ancient Romans, who stood in a temple open in time of war,
+and shut in time of peace; he was represented with two faces, which
+- which - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He - he - he!&rsquo; said the Rabbi, rising from his seat; &lsquo;he
+had two faces, had he?&nbsp; And what did those two faces typify?&nbsp;
+You do not know; no, nor did the Romans who carved him with two faces
+know why they did so; for they were only half enlightened, like you
+and the rest of the Goyim.&nbsp; Yet they were right in carving him
+with two faces looking from each other - they were right, though they
+knew not why; there was a tradition among them that the Janinoso had
+two faces, but they knew not that one was for the world which was gone
+and the other for the world before him - for the drowned world and for
+the present, as Master Leo Abarbenel says in his <i>Dialogues</i> <i>of
+Divine Love</i>.&nbsp; He - he - he!&rsquo; continued the Rabbi, who
+had by this time advanced to the door, and, turning round, waved the
+two forefingers of his right hand in our faces; &lsquo;the Goyims and
+Epicouraiyim are clever men, they know how to make money better than
+we of Israel.&nbsp; My good friend there is a clever man, I bring him
+money, he never brought me any; <i>bueno</i>, I do not blame him, he
+knows much, very much; but one thing there is my friend does not know,
+nor any of the Epicureans, he does not know the sacred thing - he has
+never received the gift of interpretation which God alone gives to the
+seed - he has his gift, I have mine - he is satisfied, I don&rsquo;t
+blame him, <i>bueno</i>.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And, with this last word in his mouth, he departed.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is that man a native of Spain?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not a native of Spain,&rsquo; said the Armenian, &lsquo;though
+he is one of those who call themselves Spanish Jews, and who are to
+be found scattered throughout Europe, speaking the Spanish language
+transmitted to them by their ancestors, who were expelled from Spain
+in the time of Ferdinand and Isabella.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Jews are a singular people,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A race of cowards and dastards,&rsquo; said the Armenian, &lsquo;without
+a home or country; servants to servants; persecuted and despised by
+all.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what are the Haiks?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very different from the Jews,&rsquo; replied the Armenian; &lsquo;the
+Haiks have a home - a country, and can occasionally use a good sword;
+though it is true they are not what they might be.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then it is a shame that they do not become so,&rsquo; said I;
+&lsquo;but they are too fond of money.&nbsp; There is yourself, with
+two hundred thousand pounds in your pocket, craving for more, whilst
+you might be turning your wealth to the service of your country.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In what manner?&rsquo; said the Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have heard you say that the grand oppressor of your country
+is the Persian; why not attempt to free your country from his oppression
+- you have two hundred thousand pounds, and money is the sinew of war?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Would you, then, have me attack the Persian?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I scarcely know what to say; fighting is a rough trade, and I
+am by no means certain that you are calculated for the scratch.&nbsp;
+It is not every one who has been brought up in the school of Mr. Petulengro
+and Tawno Chikno.&nbsp; All I can say is, that if I were an Armenian,
+and had two hundred thousand pounds to back me, I would attack the Persian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hem!&rsquo; said the Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The one half-crown - Merit in patience - Cementer of friendship - Dreadful
+perplexity - The usual guttural - Armenian letters - Much indebted to
+you - Pure helplessness - Dumb people.<br>
+<br>
+One morning on getting up I discovered that my whole worldly wealth
+was reduced to one half-crown - throughout that day I walked about in
+considerable distress of mind; it was now requisite that I should come
+to a speedy decision with respect to what I was to do; I had not many
+alternatives, and, before I had retired to rest on the night of the
+day in question, I had determined that I could do no better than accept
+the first proposal of the Armenian, and translate under his superintendence
+the Haik Esop into English.<br>
+<br>
+I reflected, for I made a virtue of necessity, that, after all, such
+an employment would be an honest and honourable one; honest, inasmuch
+as by engaging in it I should do harm to nobody; honourable, inasmuch
+as it was a literary task, which not every one was capable of executing.
+it was not every one of the booksellers&rsquo; writers of London who
+was competent to translate the Haik Esop.&nbsp; I determined to accept
+the offer of the Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+Once or twice the thought of what I might have to undergo in the translation
+from certain peculiarities of the Armenian&rsquo;s temper almost unsettled
+me; but a mechanical diving of my hand into my pocket, and the feeling
+of the solitary half-crown, confirmed me; after all, this was a life
+of trial and tribulation, and I had read somewhere or other that there
+was much merit in patience, so I determined to hold fast in my resolution
+of accepting the offer of the Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+But all of a sudden I remembered that the Armenian appeared to have
+altered his intentions towards me: he appeared no longer desirous that
+I should render the Haik Esop into English for the benefit of the stock-jobbers
+on Exchange, but rather that I should acquire the rudiments of doing
+business in the Armenian fashion, and accumulate a fortune, which would
+enable me to make a figure upon &lsquo;Change with the best of the stock-jobbers.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; thought I, withdrawing my hand from my pocket, whither
+it had again mechanically dived, &lsquo;after all, what would the world,
+what would this city, be without commerce?&nbsp; I believe the world,
+and particularly this city, would cut a very poor figure without commerce;
+and then there is something poetical in the idea of doing business after
+the Armenian fashion, dealing with dark-faced Lascars and Rabbins of
+the Sephardim.&nbsp; Yes, should the Armenian insist upon it, I will
+accept a seat at the desk, opposite the Moldavian clerk.&nbsp; I do
+not like the idea of cuffs similar to those the Armenian bestowed upon
+the Moldavian clerk; whatever merit there may be in patience, I do not
+think that my estimation of the merit of patience would be sufficient
+to induce me to remain quietly sitting under the infliction of cuffs.&nbsp;
+I think I should, in the event of his cuffing me, knock the Armenian
+down.&nbsp; Well, I think I have heard it said somewhere, that a knock-down
+blow is a great cementer of friendship; I think I have heard of two
+people being better friends than ever after the one had received from
+the other a knock-down blow.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+That night I dreamed I had acquired a colossal fortune, some four hundred
+thousand pounds, by the Armenian way of doing business, but suddenly
+awoke in dreadful perplexity as to how I should dispose of it.<br>
+<br>
+About nine o&rsquo;clock next morning I set off to the house of the
+Armenian; I had never called upon him so early before, and certainly
+never with a heart beating with so much eagerness; but the situation
+of my affairs had become very critical, and I thought that I ought to
+lose no time in informing the Armenian that I was at length perfectly
+willing either to translate the Haik Esop under his superintendence,
+or to accept a seat at the desk opposite to the Moldavian clerk, and
+acquire the secrets of Armenian commerce.&nbsp; With a quick step I
+entered the counting-room, where, notwithstanding the earliness of the
+hour, I found the clerk, busied as usual at his desk.<br>
+<br>
+He had always appeared to me a singular being, this same Moldavian clerk.&nbsp;
+A person of fewer words could scarcely be conceived: provided his master
+were at home, he would, on my inquiring, nod his head; and, provided
+he were not, he would invariably reply with the monosyllable No, delivered
+in a strange guttural tone.&nbsp; On the present occasion, being full
+of eagerness and impatience, I was about to pass by him to the apartment
+above, without my usual inquiry, when he lifted his head from the ledger
+in which he was writing, and, laying down his pen, motioned to me with
+his forefinger, as if to arrest my progress; whereupon I stopped, and,
+with a palpitating heart, demanded whether the master of the house was
+at home.&nbsp; The Moldavian clerk replied with his usual guttural,
+and, opening his desk, ensconced his head therein.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It does not much matter,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I suppose I shall
+find him at home after &lsquo;Change; it does not much matter, I can
+return.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I was turning away with the intention of leaving the room; at this moment,
+however, the head of the Moldavian clerk became visible, and I observed
+a letter in his hand, which he had inserted in the desk at the same
+time with his head; this he extended towards me, making at the same
+time a sidelong motion with his head, as much as to say that it contained
+something which interested me.<br>
+<br>
+I took the letter, and the Moldavian clerk forthwith resumed his occupation.&nbsp;
+The back of the letter bore my name, written in Armenian characters;
+with a trembling hand I broke the seal, and, unfolding the letter, I
+beheld several lines also written in the letters of Mesroub, the Cadmus
+of the Armenians.<br>
+<br>
+I stared at the lines, and at first could not make out a syllable of
+their meaning; at last, however, by continued staring, I discovered
+that, though the letters were Armenian, the words were English; in about
+ten minutes I had contrived to decipher the sense of the letter; it
+ran somewhat in this style:-<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;MY DEAR FRIEND - The words which you uttered in our last conversation
+have made a profound impression upon me; I have thought them over day
+and night, and have come to the conclusion that it is my bounden duty
+to attack the Persians.&nbsp; When these lines are delivered to you,
+I shall be on the route to Ararat.&nbsp; A mercantile speculation will
+be to the world the ostensible motive of my journey, and it is singular
+enough that one which offers considerable prospect of advantage has
+just presented itself on the confines of Persia.&nbsp; Think not, however,
+that motives of lucre would have been sufficiently powerful to tempt
+me to the East at the present moment.&nbsp; I may speculate, it is true,
+but I should scarcely have undertaken the journey but for your pungent
+words inciting me to attack the Persians.&nbsp; Doubt not that I will
+attack them on the first opportunity.&nbsp; I thank you heartily for
+putting me in mind of my duty.&nbsp; I have hitherto, to use your own
+words, been too fond of money-getting, like all my countrymen.&nbsp;
+I am much indebted to you; farewell! and may every prosperity await
+you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+For some time after I had deciphered the epistle, I stood as if rooted
+to the floor.&nbsp; I felt stunned - my last hope was gone; presently
+a feeling arose in my mind - a feeling of self-reproach.&nbsp; Whom
+had I to blame but myself for the departure of the Armenian?&nbsp; Would
+he have ever thought of attacking the Persians had I not put the idea
+into his head? he had told me in his epistle that he was indebted to
+me for the idea.&nbsp; But for that, he might at the present moment
+have been in London, increasing his fortune by his usual methods, and
+I might be commencing under his auspices the translation of the Haik
+Esop, with the promise, no doubt, of a considerable remuneration for
+my trouble; or I might be taking a seat opposite the Moldavian clerk,
+and imbibing the first rudiments of doing business after the Armenian
+fashion, with the comfortable hope of realising, in a short time, a
+fortune of three or four hundred thousand pounds; but the Armenian was
+now gone, and farewell to the fine hopes I had founded upon him the
+day before.&nbsp; What was I to do?&nbsp; I looked wildly around, till
+my eyes rested on the Moldavian clerk, who was writing away in his ledger
+with particular vehemence.&nbsp; Not knowing well what to do or to say,
+I thought I might as well ask the Moldavian clerk when the Armenian
+had departed, and when he thought that he would return.&nbsp; It is
+true it mattered little to me when he departed, seeing that he was gone,
+and it was evident that he would not be back soon; but I knew not what
+to do, and in pure helplessness thought I might as well ask; so I went
+up to the Moldavian clerk, and asked him when the Armenian had departed,
+and whether he had been gone two days or three.&nbsp; Whereupon the
+Moldavian clerk, looking up from his ledger, made certain signs, which
+I could by no means understand.&nbsp; I stood astonished, but, presently
+recovering myself, inquired when he considered it probable that the
+master would return, and whether he thought it would be two months or
+- my tongue faltered - two years; whereupon the Moldavian clerk made
+more signs than before, and yet more unintelligible; as I persisted,
+however, he flung down his pen, and, putting his thumb into his mouth,
+moved it rapidly, causing the nail to sound against the lower jaw; whereupon
+I saw that he was dumb, and hurried away, for I had always entertained
+a horror of dumb people, having once heard my another say, when I was
+a child, that dumb people were half demoniacs, or little better.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Kind of stupor - Peace of God - Divine hand - Farewell, child - The
+fair - Massive edifice - Battered tars - Lost! lost! - Good-day, gentlemen.<br>
+<br>
+Leaving the house of the Armenian, I strolled about for some time; almost
+mechanically my feet conducted me to London Bridge, to the booth in
+which stood the stall of the old apple-woman; the sound of her voice
+aroused me, as I sat in a kind of stupor on the stone bench beside her;
+she was inquiring what was the matter with me.<br>
+<br>
+At first, I believe, I answered her very incoherently, for I observed
+alarm beginning to depict itself upon her countenance.&nbsp; Rousing
+myself, however, I in my turn put a few questions to her upon her present
+condition and prospects.&nbsp; The old woman&rsquo;s countenance cleared
+up instantly; she informed me that she had never been more comfortable
+in her life; that her trade, her <i>honest</i> trade - laying an emphasis
+on the word honest - had increased of late wonderfully; that her health
+was better, and, above all, that she felt no fear and horror &lsquo;here,&rsquo;
+laying her hand on her breast.<br>
+<br>
+On my asking her whether she still heard voices in the night, she told
+me that she frequently did; but that the present were mild voices, sweet
+voices, encouraging voices, very different from the former ones; that
+a voice, only the night previous, had cried out about &lsquo;the peace
+of God,&rsquo; in particularly sweet accents; a sentence which she remembered
+to have read in her early youth in the primer, but which she had clean
+forgotten till the voice the night before brought it to her recollection.<br>
+<br>
+After a pause, the old woman said to me, &lsquo;I believe, dear, that
+it is the blessed book you brought me which has wrought this goodly
+change.&nbsp; How glad I am now that I can read; but oh what a difference
+between the book you brought to me and the one you took away!&nbsp;
+I believe the one you brought is written by the finger of God, and the
+other by - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t abuse the book,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;it is an excellent
+book for those who can understand it; it was not exactly suited to you,
+and perhaps it had been better that you had never read it - and yet,
+who knows?&nbsp; Peradventure, if you had not read that book, you would
+not have been fitted for the perusal of the one which you say is written
+by the finger of God&rsquo;; and, pressing my hand to my head, I fell
+into a deep fit of musing.&nbsp; &lsquo;What, after all,&rsquo; thought
+I, &lsquo;if there should be more order and system in the working of
+the moral world than I have thought?&nbsp; Does there not seem in the
+present instance to be something like the working of a Divine hand?&nbsp;
+I could not conceive why this woman, better educated than her mother,
+should have been, as she certainly was, a worse character than her mother.&nbsp;
+Yet perhaps this woman may be better and happier than her mother ever
+was; perhaps she is so already - perhaps this world is not a wild, lying
+dream, as I have occasionally supposed it to be.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But the thought of my own situation did not permit me to abandon myself
+much longer to these musings.&nbsp; I started up.&nbsp; &lsquo;Where
+are you going, child?&rsquo; said the woman, anxiously.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+scarcely know,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;anywhere.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Then
+stay here, child,&rsquo; said she; &lsquo;I have much to say to you.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I shall be better moving about&rsquo;;
+and I was moving away, when it suddenly occurred to me that I might
+never see this woman again; and turning round I offered her my hand,
+and bade her good-bye.&nbsp; &lsquo;Farewell, child,&rsquo; said the
+old woman, &lsquo;and God bless you!&rsquo;&nbsp; I then moved along
+the bridge until I reached the Southwark side, and, still holding on
+my course, my mind again became quickly abstracted from all surrounding
+objects.<br>
+<br>
+At length I found myself in a street or road, with terraces on either
+side, and seemingly of interminable length, leading, as it would appear,
+to the south-east.&nbsp; I was walking at a great rate - there were
+likewise a great number of people, also walking at a great rate; also
+carts and carriages driving at a great rate; and all - men, carts, and
+carriages - going in the selfsame direction, namely to the south-east.&nbsp;
+I stopped for a moment and deliberated whether or not I should proceed.&nbsp;
+What business had I in that direction?&nbsp; I could not say that I
+had any particular business in that direction, but what could I do were
+I to turn back? only walk about well-known streets; and, if I must walk,
+why not continue in the direction in which I was to see whither the
+road and its terraces led?&nbsp; I was ere in a <i>terra incognita</i>,
+and an unknown place had always some interest for me; moreover, I had
+a desire to know whither all this crowd was going, and for what purpose.&nbsp;
+I thought they could not be going far, as crowds seldom go far, especially
+at such a rate; so I walked on more lustily than before, passing group
+after group of the crowd, and almost vying in speed with some of the
+carriages, especially the hackney-coaches; and, by dint of walking at
+this rate, the terraces and houses becoming somewhat less frequent as
+I advanced, I reached in about three-quarters of an hour a kind of low
+dingy town, in the neighbourhood of the river; the streets were swarming
+with people, and I concluded, from the number of wild-beast shows, caravans,
+gingerbread stalls, and the like, that a fair was being held.&nbsp;
+Now, as I had always been partial to fairs, I felt glad that I had fallen
+in with the crowd which had conducted me to the present one, and, casting
+away as much as I was able all gloomy thoughts, I did my best to enter
+into the diversions of the fair; staring at the wonderful representations
+of animals on canvas hung up before the shows of wild beasts, which,
+by the bye, are frequently found much more worthy of admiration than
+the real beasts themselves; listening to the jokes of the merry-andrews
+from the platforms in front of the temporary theatres, or admiring the
+splendid tinsel dresses of the performers who thronged the stages in
+the intervals of the entertainments; and in this manner, occasionally
+gazing and occasionally listening, I passed through the town till I
+came in front of a large edifice looking full upon the majestic bosom
+of the Thames.<br>
+<br>
+It was a massive stone edifice, built in an antique style, and black
+with age, with a broad esplanade between it and the river, on which,
+mixed with a few people from the fair, I observed moving about a great
+many individuals in quaint dresses of blue, with strange three-cornered
+hats on their heads; most of them were mutilated; this had a wooden
+leg - this wanted an arm; some had but one eye; and as I gazed upon
+the edifice, and the singular-looking individuals who moved before it,
+I guessed where I was.&nbsp; &lsquo;I am at - &rsquo; said I; &lsquo;these
+individuals are battered tars of Old England, and this edifice, once
+the favourite abode of Glorious Elizabeth, is the refuge which a grateful
+country has allotted to them.&nbsp; Here they can rest their weary bodies;
+at their ease talk over the actions in which they have been injured;
+and, with the tear of enthusiasm flowing from their eyes, boast how
+they have trod the deck of fame with Rodney, or Nelson, or others whose
+names stand emblazoned in the naval annals of their country.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Turning to the right, I entered a park or wood consisting of enormous
+trees, occupying the foot, sides, and top of a hill which rose behind
+the town; there were multitudes of people among the trees, diverting
+themselves in various ways.&nbsp; Coming to the top of the hill, I was
+present&rsquo; y stopped by a lofty wall, along which I walked, till,
+coming to a small gate, I passed through, and found myself on an extensive
+green plain, on one side bounded in part by the wall of the park, and
+on the others, in the distance, by extensive ranges of houses; to the
+south-east was a lofty eminence, partially clothed with wood.&nbsp;
+The plain exhibited an animated scene, a kind of continuation of the
+fair below; there were multitudes of people upon it, many tents, and
+shows; there was also horse-racing, and much noise and shouting, the
+sun shining brightly overhead.&nbsp; After gazing at the horse-racing
+for a little time, feeling myself somewhat tired, I went up to one of
+the tents, and laid myself down on the grass.&nbsp; There was much noise
+in the tent.&nbsp; &lsquo;Who will stand me?&rsquo; said a voice with
+a slight tendency to lisp.&nbsp; &lsquo;Will you, my lord?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said another voice.&nbsp; Then there was a sound
+as of a piece of money banging on a table.&nbsp; &lsquo;Lost! lost!
+lost!&rsquo; cried several voices; and then the banging down of the
+money, and the &lsquo;lost! lost! lost!&rsquo; were frequently repeated;
+at last the second voice exclaimed, &lsquo;I will try no more; you have
+cheated me.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Never cheated any one in my life, my
+lord - all fair - all chance.&nbsp; Them that finds, wins - them that
+can&rsquo;t finds, loses.&nbsp; Anyone else try?&nbsp; Who&rsquo;ll
+try?&nbsp; Will you, my lord?&rsquo; and then it appeared that some
+other lord tried, for I heard more money flung down.&nbsp; Then again
+the cry of &lsquo;lost! lost!&rsquo; - then again the sound of money,
+and so on.&nbsp; Once or twice, but not more, I heard &lsquo;Won! won!&rsquo;
+but the predominant cry was &lsquo;Lost! lost!&rsquo;&nbsp; At last
+there was a considerable hubbub, and the words &lsquo;Cheat!&rsquo;
+&lsquo;Rogue!&rsquo; and &lsquo;You filched away the pea!&rsquo; were
+used freely by more voices than one, to which the voice with the tendency
+to lisp replied, &lsquo;Never filched a pea in my life; would scorn
+it.&nbsp; Always glad when folks wins; but, as those here don&rsquo;t
+appear to be civil, not to wish to play any more, I shall take myself
+off with my table; so, good-day, gentlemen.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Singular table - No money - Out of employ - My bonnet - We of the thimble
+- Good wages - Wisely resolved - Strangest way in the world - Fat gentleman
+- Not such another - First edition - Not very easy - Won&rsquo;t close
+- Avella gorgio - Alarmed look.<br>
+<br>
+Presently a man emerged from the tent, bearing before him a rather singular
+table; it appeared to be of white deal, was exceedingly small at the
+top, and with very long legs.&nbsp; At a few yards from the entrance
+he paused, and looked round, as if to decide on the direction which
+he should take; presently, his eye glancing on me as I lay upon the
+ground, he started, and appeared for a moment inclined to make off as
+quick as possible, table and all.&nbsp; In a moment, however, he seemed
+to recover assurance, and, coming up to the place where I was, the long
+legs of the table projecting before him, he cried, &lsquo;Glad to see
+you here, my lord.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thank you,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;it&rsquo;s a fine day.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very fine, my lord; will your lordship play?&nbsp; Them that
+finds, wins - them that don&rsquo;t finds, loses.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Play at what?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Only at the thimble and pea, my lord.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never heard of such a game.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Didn&rsquo;t you?&nbsp; Well, I&rsquo;ll soon teach you,&rsquo;
+said he, placing the table down.&nbsp; &lsquo;All you have to do is
+to put a sovereign down on my table, and to find the pea, which I put
+under one of my thimbles.&nbsp; If you find it, - and it is easy enough
+to find it, - I give you a sovereign besides your own: for them that
+finds, wins.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And them that don&rsquo;t finds, loses,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;no,
+I don&rsquo;t wish to play.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why not, my lord?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, in the first place, I have no money.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, you have no money, that of course alters the case.&nbsp;
+If you have no money, you can&rsquo;t play.&nbsp; Well, I suppose I
+must be seeing after my customers,&rsquo; said he, glancing over the
+plain.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Good-day,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Good-day,&rsquo; said the man slowly, but without moving, and
+as if in reflection.&nbsp; After a moment or two, looking at me inquiringly,
+he added, &lsquo;Out of employ?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;out of employ.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man measured me with his eye as I lay on the ground.&nbsp; At length
+he said, &lsquo;May I speak a word or two to you, my lord?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As many as you please,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then just come a little out of hearing, a little farther on the
+grass, if you please, my lord.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why do you call me my lord?&rsquo; said I, as I arose and followed
+him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We of the thimble always calls our customers lords,&rsquo; said
+the man; &lsquo;but I won&rsquo;t call you such a foolish name any more;
+come along.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man walked along the plain till he came to the side of a dry pit,
+when, looking round to see that no one was nigh, he laid his table on
+the grass, and, sitting down with his legs over the side of the pit,
+he motioned me to do the same.&nbsp; &lsquo;So you are in want of employ?&rsquo;
+said he, after I had sat down beside him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am very much in want of employ.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I think I can find you some.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What kind?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;I think you would do to be my
+bonnet.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bonnet!&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;what is that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you know?&nbsp; However, no wonder, as you had never
+heard of the thimble and pea game, but I will tell you.&nbsp; We of
+the game are very much exposed; folks when they have lost their money,
+as those who play with us mostly do, sometimes uses rough language,
+calls us cheats, and sometimes knocks our hats over our eyes; and what&rsquo;s
+more, with a kick under our table, cause the top deals to fly off; this
+is the third table I have used this day, the other two being broken
+by uncivil customers: so we of the game generally like to have gentlemen
+go about with us to take our part, and encourage us, though pretending
+to know nothing about us; for example, when the customer says, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+cheated,&rdquo; the bonnet must say, &ldquo;No, you ain&rsquo;t, it
+is all right&rdquo;; or, when my hat is knocked over my eyes, the bonnet
+must square, and say, &ldquo;I never saw the man before in all my life,
+but I won&rsquo;t see him ill-used&rdquo;; and so, when they kicks at
+the table, the bonnet must say, &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t see the table ill-used,
+such a nice table, too; besides, I want to play myself&rdquo;; and then
+I would say to the bonnet, &ldquo;Thank you, my lord, them that finds,
+wins&rdquo;; and then the bonnet plays, and I lets the bonnet win.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In a word,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;the bonnet means the man who
+covers you, even as the real bonnet covers the head.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I just so,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;I see you are awake, and
+would soon make a first-rate bonnet.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bonnet,&rsquo; said I, musingly; &lsquo;bonnet; it is metaphorical.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it?&rsquo; said the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;like the cant words - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bonnet is cant,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;we of the thimble,
+as well as all cly-fakers and the like, understand cant, as, of course,
+must every bonnet; so, if you are employed by me, you had better learn
+it as soon as you can, that we may discourse together without being
+understood by every one.&nbsp; Besides covering his principal, a bonnet
+must have his eyes about him, for the trade of the pea, though a strictly
+honest one, is not altogether lawful; so it is the duty of the bonnet,
+if he sees the constable coming, to say, The gorgio&rsquo;s welling.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That is not cant,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that is the language
+of the Rommany Chals.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you know those people?&rsquo; said the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Perfectly,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and their language too.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish I did,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;I would give ten pounds
+and more to know the language of the Rommany Chals.&nbsp; There&rsquo;s
+some of it in the language of the pea and thimble; how it came there
+I don&rsquo;t know, but so it is.&nbsp; I wish I knew it, but it is
+difficult.&nbsp; You&rsquo;ll make a capital bonnet; shall we close?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What would the wages be?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, to a first-rate bonnet, as I think you would prove, I could
+afford to give from forty to fifty shillings a week.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it possible?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Good wages, ain&rsquo;t they?&rsquo; said the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;First-rate,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;bonneting is more profitable
+than reviewing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Anan?&rsquo; said the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Or translating; I don&rsquo;t think the Armenian would have paid
+me at that rate for translating his Esop.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is he?&rsquo; said the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Esop?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, I know what that is, Esop&rsquo;s cant for a hunchback; but
+t&rsquo;other?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You should know,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never saw the man in all my life.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, you have,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and felt him too; don&rsquo;t
+you remember the individual from whom you took the pocket-book?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, that was he; well, the less said about that matter the better;
+I have left off that trade, and taken to this, which is a much better.&nbsp;
+Between ourselves, I am not sorry that I did not carry off that pocket-book;
+if I had, it might have encouraged me in the trade, in which had I remained,
+I might have been lagged, sent abroad, as I had been already imprisoned;
+so I determined to leave it off at all hazards, though I was hard up,
+not having a penny in the world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And wisely resolved,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;it was a bad and dangerous
+trade, I wonder you should ever have embraced it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is all very well talking,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;but
+there is a reason for everything; I am the son of a Jewess, by a military
+officer&rsquo; - and then the man told me his story.&nbsp; I shall not
+repeat the man&rsquo;s story, it was a poor one, a vile one; at last
+he observed, &lsquo;So that affair which you know of determined me to
+leave the filching trade, and take up with a more honest and safe one;
+so at last I thought of the pea and thimble, but I wanted funds, especially
+to pay for lessons at the hands of a master, for I knew little about
+it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;how did you get over that difficulty?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;I thought I should never have
+got over it.&nbsp; What funds could I raise?&nbsp; I had nothing to
+sell; the few clothes I had I wanted, for we of the thimble must always
+appear decent, or nobody would come near us.&nbsp; I was at my wits&rsquo;
+ends; at last I got over my difficulty in the strangest way in the world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What was that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By an old thing which I had picked up some time before - a book.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A book?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, which I had taken out of your lordship&rsquo;s pocket one
+day as you were walking the streets in a great hurry.&nbsp; I thought
+it was a pocket-book at first, full of bank-notes, perhaps,&rsquo; continued
+he, laughing.&nbsp; &lsquo;It was well for me, however, that it was
+not, for I should have soon spent the notes; as it was, I had flung
+the old thing down with an oath, as soon as I brought it home.&nbsp;
+When I was so hard up, however, after the affair with that friend of
+yours, I took it up one day, and thought I might make something by it
+to support myself a day with.&nbsp; Chance or something else led me
+into a grand shop; there was a man there who seemed to be the master,
+talking to a jolly, portly old gentleman, who seemed to be a country
+squire.&nbsp; Well, I went up to the first, and offered it for sale;
+he took the book, opened it at the title-page, and then all of a sudden
+his eyes glistened, and he showed it to the fat, jolly gentleman, and
+his eyes glistened too, and I heard him say &ldquo;How singular!&rdquo;
+and then the two talked together in a speech I didn&rsquo;t understand
+- I rather thought it was French, at any rate it wasn&rsquo;t cant;
+and presently the first asked me what I would take for the book.&nbsp;
+Now I am not altogether a fool, nor am I blind, and I had narrowly marked
+all that passed, and it came into my head that now was the time for
+making a man of myself, at any rate I could lose nothing by a little
+confidence; so I looked the man boldly in the face, and said, &ldquo;I
+will have five guineas for that book, there ain&rsquo;t such another
+in the whole world.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Nonsense,&rdquo; said the first
+man, &ldquo;there are plenty of them, there have been nearly fifty editions,
+to my knowledge; I will give you five shillings.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;No,&rdquo;
+said I, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll not take it, for I don&rsquo;t like to be
+cheated, so give me my book again&rdquo;; and I attempted to take it
+away from the fat gentleman&rsquo;s hand.&nbsp; &ldquo;Stop,&rdquo;
+said the younger man; &ldquo;are you sure that you won&rsquo;t take
+less?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Not a farthing,&rdquo; said I; which was not
+altogether true, but I said so.&nbsp; &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the fat
+gentleman, &ldquo;I will give you what you ask&rdquo;; and sure enough
+he presently gave me the money; so I made a bow, and was leaving the
+shop, when it came into my head that there was something odd in all
+this, and, as I had the money in my pocket, I turned back, and, making
+another bow, said, &ldquo;May I be so bold as to ask why you gave me
+all this money for that &lsquo;ere dirty book?&nbsp; When I came into
+the shop, I should have been glad to get a shilling for it; but I saw
+you wanted it, and asked five guineas.&rdquo;&nbsp; Then they looked
+at one another, and smiled, and shrugged up their shoulders.&nbsp; Then
+the first man, looking at me, said, &ldquo;Friend, you have been a little
+too sharp for us; however, we can afford to forgive you, as my friend
+here has long been in quest of this particular book; there are plenty
+of editions, as I told you, and a common copy is not worth five shillings;
+but this is a first edition, and a copy of the first edition is worth
+its weight in gold.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So, after all, they outwitted you,&rsquo; I observed.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Clearly,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;I might have got double
+the price, had I known the value; but I don&rsquo;t care, much good
+may it do them, it has done me plenty.&nbsp; By means of it I have got
+into an honest, respectable trade, in which there&rsquo;s little danger
+and plenty of profit, and got out of one which would have got me lagged,
+sooner or later.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;you ought to remember that the thing
+was not yours; you took it from me, who had been requested by a poor
+old apple-woman to exchange it for a Bible.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;did she ever get her Bible?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;she got her Bible.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then she has no cause to complain; and, as for you, chance or
+something else has sent you to me, that I may make you reasonable amends
+for any loss you may have had.&nbsp; Here am I ready to make you my
+bonnet, with forty or fifty shillings a week, which you say yourself
+are capital wages.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I find no fault with the wages,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but I don&rsquo;t
+like the employ.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not like bonneting,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;ah, I see, you
+would like to be principal; well, a time may come - those long white
+fingers of yours would just serve for the business.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it a difficult one?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, it is not very easy: two things are needful - natural talent,
+and constant practice; but I&rsquo;ll show you a point or two connected
+with the game&rsquo;; and, placing his table between his knees as he
+sat over the side of the pit, he produced three thimbles, and a small
+brown pellet, something resembling a pea.&nbsp; He moved the thimble
+and pellet about, now placing it to all appearance under one, and now
+under another; &lsquo;Under which is it now?&rsquo; he said at last.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Under that,&rsquo; said I, pointing to the lowermost of the thimbles,
+which, as they stood, formed a kind of triangle.&nbsp; &lsquo;No,&rsquo;
+said he, &lsquo;it is not, but lift it up&rsquo;; and, when I lifted
+up the thimble, the pellet, in truth, was not under it.&nbsp; &lsquo;It
+was under none of them,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;it was pressed by my
+little finger against my palm&rsquo;; and then he showed me how he did
+the trick, and asked me if the game was not a funny one; and, on my
+answering in the affirmative, he said, &lsquo;I am glad you like it;
+come along and let us win some money.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon, getting up, he placed the table before him, and was moving
+away; observing, however, that I did not stir, he asked me what I was
+staying for.&nbsp; &lsquo;Merely for my own pleasure,&rsquo; said I;
+&lsquo;I like sitting here very well.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Then you won&rsquo;t
+close?&rsquo; said the man.&nbsp; &lsquo;By no means,&rsquo; I replied;
+&lsquo;your proposal does not suit me.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You may be
+principal in time,&rsquo; said the man.&nbsp; &lsquo;That makes no difference,&rsquo;
+said I; and, sitting with my legs over the pit, I forthwith began to
+decline an Armenian noun.&nbsp; &lsquo;That ain&rsquo;t cant,&rsquo;
+said the man; &lsquo;no, nor gypsy either.&nbsp; Well, if you won&rsquo;t
+close, another will, I can&rsquo;t lose any more time,&rsquo; and forthwith
+he departed.<br>
+<br>
+And after I had declined four Armenian nouns, of different declensions,
+I rose from the side of the pit, and wandered about amongst the various
+groups of people scattered over the green.&nbsp; Presently I came to
+where the man of the thimbles was standing, with the table before him,
+and many people about him.&nbsp; &lsquo;Them who finds, wins, and them
+who can&rsquo;t find, loses,&rsquo; he cried.&nbsp; Various individuals
+tried to find the pellet, but all were unsuccessful, till at last considerable
+dissatisfaction was expressed, and the terms rogue and cheat were lavished
+upon him.&nbsp; &lsquo;Never cheated anybody in all my life,&rsquo;
+he cried; and, observing me at hand, &lsquo;didn&rsquo;t I play fair,
+my lord?&rsquo; he inquired.&nbsp; But I made no answer.&nbsp; Presently
+some more played, and he permitted one or two to win, and the eagerness
+to play with him became greater.&nbsp; After I had looked on for some
+time, I was moving away: just then I perceived a short, thick personage,
+with a staff in his hand, advancing in a great hurry; whereupon, with
+a sudden impulse, I exclaimed -<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Shoon thimble-engro;<br>
+Avella gorgio.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The man, who was in the midst of his pea-and-thimble process, no sooner
+heard the last word of the distich than he turned an alarmed look in
+the direction of where I stood; then, glancing around, and perceiving
+the constable, he slipped forthwith his pellet and thimbles into his
+pocket, and, lifting up his table, he cried to the people about him,
+&lsquo;Make way!&rsquo; and with a motion with his head to me, as if
+to follow him, he darted off with a swiftness which the short, pursy
+constable could by no means rival; and whither he went, or what became
+of him, I know not, inasmuch as I turned away in another direction.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LIV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Mr. Petulengro - Rommany Rye - Lil-writers - One&rsquo;s own horn -
+Lawfully-earnt money - The wooded hill - A great favourite - The shop
+window - Much wanted.<br>
+<br>
+And, as I wandered along the green, I drew near to a place where several
+men, with a cask beside them, sat carousing in the neighbourhood of
+a small tent.&nbsp; &lsquo;Here he comes,&rsquo; said one of them, as
+I advanced, and standing up he raised his voice and sang:-<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Here the Gypsy gemman see,<br>
+With his Roman jib and his rome and dree -<br>
+Rome and dree, rum and dry<br>
+Rally round the Rommany Rye.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+It was Mr. Petulengro, who was here diverting himself with several of
+his comrades; they all received me with considerable frankness.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Sit down, brother,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro, &lsquo;and take
+a cup of good ale.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I sat down.&nbsp; &lsquo;Your health, gentlemen,&rsquo; said I, as I
+took the cup which Mr. Petulengro handed to me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Aukko tu pios adrey Rommanis.&nbsp; Here is your health in Rommany,
+brother,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro; who, having refilled the cup, now
+emptied it at a draught.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Your health in Rommany, brother,&rsquo; said Tawno Chikno, to
+whom the cup came next.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Rommany Rye,&rsquo; said a third.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Gypsy gentleman,&rsquo; exclaimed a fourth, drinking.<br>
+<br>
+And then they all sang in chorus:-<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Here the Gypsy gemman see,<br>
+With his Roman jib and his rome and dree -<br>
+Rome and dree, rum and dry<br>
+Rally round the Rommany Rye.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And now, brother,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro, &lsquo;seeing that
+you have drunk and been drunken, you will perhaps tell us where you
+have been, and what about?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have been in the Big City,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;writing lils.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How much money have you got in your pocket, brother?&rsquo; said
+Mr. Petulengro.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Eighteenpence,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;all I have in the world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have been in the Big City, too,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro;
+&lsquo;but I have not written lils - I have fought in the ring - I have
+fifty pounds in my pocket - I have much more in the world.&nbsp; Brother,
+there is considerable difference between us.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I would rather be the lil-writer, after all,&rsquo; said the
+tall, handsome, black man; &lsquo;indeed, I would wish for nothing better.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why so?&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because they have so much to say for themselves,&rsquo; said
+the black man, &lsquo;even when dead and gone.&nbsp; When they are laid
+in the churchyard, it is their own fault if people ain&rsquo;t talking
+of them.&nbsp; Who will know, after I am dead, or bitchadey pawdel,
+that I was once the beauty of the world, or that you Jasper were - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The best man in England of my inches.&nbsp; That&rsquo;s true,
+Tawno - however, here&rsquo;s our brother will perhaps let the world
+know something about us.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not he,&rsquo; said the other, with a sigh; &lsquo;he&rsquo;ll
+have quite enough to do in writing his own lils, and telling the world
+how handsome and clever he was; and who can blame him?&nbsp; Not I.&nbsp;
+If I could write lils, every word should be about myself and my own
+tacho Rommanis - my own lawful wedded wife, which is the same thing.&nbsp;
+I tell you what, brother, I once heard a wise man say in Brummagem,
+that &ldquo;there is nothing like blowing one&rsquo;s own horn,&rdquo;
+which I conceive to be much the same thing as writing one&rsquo;s own
+lil.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+After a little more conversation, Mr. Petulengro arose, and motioned
+me to follow him.&nbsp; &lsquo;Only eighteenpence in the world, brother?&rsquo;
+said he, as we walked together.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nothing more, I assure you.&nbsp; How came you to ask me how
+much money I had?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because there was something in your look, brother, something
+very much resembling that which a person showeth who does not carry
+much money in his pocket.&nbsp; I was looking at my own face this morning
+in my wife&rsquo;s looking-glass - I did not look as you do, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I believe your sole motive for inquiring,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;was
+to have an opportunity of venting a foolish boast, and to let me know
+that you were in possession of fifty pounds.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is the use of having money unless you let people know you
+have it?&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro.&nbsp; &lsquo;It is not every one
+can read faces, brother; and, unless you knew I had money, how could
+you ask me to lend you any?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am not going to ask you to lend me any.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you may have it without asking; as I said before, I have
+fifty pounds, all lawfully-earnt money, got by fighting in the ring
+- I will lend you that, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are very kind,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but I will not take
+it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then the half of it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nor the half of it; but it is getting towards evening, I must
+go back to the Great City.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what will you do in the Boro Foros?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I know not,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Earn money?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If I can.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And if you can&rsquo;t?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Starve!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You look ill, brother,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not feel well; the Great City does not agree with me.&nbsp;
+Should I be so fortunate as to earn some money, I would leave the Big
+City, and take to the woods and fields.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You may do that, brother,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro, &lsquo;whether
+you have money or not.&nbsp; Our tents and horses are on the other side
+of yonder wooded hill, come and stay with us; we shall all be glad of
+your company, but more especially myself and my wife Pakomovna.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What hill is that?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+And then Mr. Petulengro told me the name of the hill.&nbsp; &lsquo;We
+shall stay on t&rsquo;other side of the hill a fortnight,&rsquo; he
+continued; &lsquo;and, as you are fond of lil-writing, you may employ
+yourself profitably whilst there.&nbsp; You can write the lil of him
+whose dock gallops down that hill every night, even as the living man
+was wont to do long ago.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who was he?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Jemmy Abershaw,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro; &lsquo;one of those
+whom we call Boro drom engroes, and the gorgios highway-men.&nbsp; I
+once heard a rye say that the life of that man would fetch much money;
+so come to the other side of the hill, and write the lil in the tent
+of Jasper and his wife Pakomovna.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+At first I felt inclined to accept the invitation of Mr. Petulengro;
+a little consideration, however, determined me to decline it.&nbsp;
+I had always been on excellent terms with Mr. Petulengro, but I reflected
+that people might be excellent friends when they met occasionally in
+the street, or on the heath, or in the wood; but that these very people
+when living together in a house, to say nothing of a tent, might quarrel.&nbsp;
+I reflected, moreover, that Mr. Petulengro had a wife.&nbsp; I had always,
+it is true, been a great favourite with Mrs. Petulengro, who had frequently
+been loud in her commendation of the young rye, as she called me, and
+his turn of conversation; but this was at a time when I stood in need
+of nothing, lived under my parents&rsquo; roof, and only visited at
+the tents to divert and to be diverted.&nbsp; The times were altered,
+and I was by no means certain that Mrs. Petulengro, when she should
+discover that I was in need both of shelter and subsistence, might not
+alter her opinion both with respect to the individual and what he said
+- stigmatising my conversation as saucy discourse, and myself as a scurvy
+companion; and that she might bring over her husband to her own way
+of thinking, provided, indeed, he should need any conducting.&nbsp;
+I therefore, though without declaring my reasons, declined the offer
+of Mr. Petulengro, and presently, after shaking him by the hand, bent
+again my course towards the Great City.<br>
+<br>
+I crossed the river at a bridge considerably above that hight of London;
+for, not being acquainted with the way, I missed the turning which should
+have brought me to the latter.&nbsp; Suddenly I found myself in a street
+of which I had some recollection, and mechanically stopped before the
+window of a shop at which various publications were exposed; it was
+that of the bookseller to whom I had last applied in the hope of selling
+my ballads or Ab Gwilym, and who had given me hopes that, in the event
+of my writing a decent novel, or a tale, he would prove a purchaser.&nbsp;
+As I stood listlessly looking at the window, and the publications which
+it contained, I observed a paper affixed to the glass by wafers with
+something written upon it.&nbsp; I drew yet nearer for the purpose of
+inspecting it; the writing was in a fair round hand - &lsquo;A Novel
+or Tale is much wanted,&rsquo; was what was written.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Bread and water - Pair play - Fashion - Colonel B- - Joseph Sell - The
+kindly glow - Easiest manner imaginable.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I must do something,&rsquo; said I, as I sat that night in my
+lonely apartment, with some bread and a pitcher of water before me.<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon taking some of the bread, and eating it, I considered what
+I was to do.&nbsp; &lsquo;I have no idea what I am to do,&rsquo; said
+I, as I stretched my hand towards the pitcher, &lsquo;unless (and here
+I took a considerable draught) I write a tale or a novel - That bookseller,&rsquo;
+I continued, speaking to myself, &lsquo;is certainly much in need of
+a tale or a novel, otherwise he would not advertise for one.&nbsp; Suppose
+I write one, I appear to have no other chance of extricating myself
+from my present difficulties; surely it was Fate that conducted me to
+his window.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will do it,&rsquo; said I, as I struck my hand against the
+table; &lsquo;I will do it.&rsquo;&nbsp; Suddenly a heavy cloud of despondency
+came over me.&nbsp; Could I do it?&nbsp; Had I the imagination requisite
+to write a tale or a novel?&nbsp; &lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; said I, as
+I struck my hand again against the table, &lsquo;I can manage it; give
+me fair play, and I can accomplish anything.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But should I have fair play?&nbsp; I must have something to maintain
+myself with whilst I wrote my tale, and I had but eighteenpence in the
+world.&nbsp; Would that maintain me whilst I wrote my tale?&nbsp; Yes,
+I thought it would, provided I ate bread, which did not cost much, and
+drank water, which cost nothing; it was poor diet, it was true, but
+better men than myself had written on bread and water; had not the big
+man told me so? or something to that effect, months before?<br>
+<br>
+It was true there was my lodging to pay for; but up to the present time
+I owed nothing, and perhaps, by the time that the people of the house
+asked me for money, I should have written a tale or a novel, which would
+bring me in money; I had paper, pens, and ink, and, let me not forget
+them, I had candles in my closet, all paid for, to light me during my
+night work.&nbsp; Enough, I would go doggedly to work upon my tale or
+novel.<br>
+<br>
+But what was the tale or novel to be about?&nbsp; Was it to be a tale
+of fashionable life, about Sir Harry Somebody, and the Countess something?&nbsp;
+But I knew nothing about fashionable people, and cared less; therefore
+how should I attempt to describe fashionable life? What should the tale
+consist of?&nbsp; The life and adventures of some one.&nbsp; Good -
+but of whom?&nbsp; Did not Mr. Petulengro mention one Jemmy Abershaw?&nbsp;
+Yes.&nbsp; Did he not tell me that the life and adventures of Jemmy
+Abershaw would bring in much money to the writer?&nbsp; Yes, but I knew
+nothing of that worthy.&nbsp; I heard, it is true, from Mr. Petulengro,
+that when alive he committed robberies on the hill, on the side of which
+Mr. Petulengro had pitched his tents, and that his ghost still haunted
+the hill at midnight; but those were scant materials out of which to
+write the man&rsquo;s life.&nbsp; It is probable indeed, that Mr. Petulengro
+would be able to supply me with further materials if I should apply
+to him, but I was in a hurry, and could not afford the time which it
+would be necessary to spend in passing to and from Mr. Petulengro, and
+consulting him.&nbsp; Moreover, my pride revolted at the idea of being
+beholden to Mr. Petulengro for the materials of the history.&nbsp; No,
+I would not write the history of Abershaw.&nbsp; Whose then - Harry
+Simms?&nbsp; Alas, the life of Harry Simms had been already much better
+written by himself than I could hope to do it; and, after all, Harry
+Simms, like Jemmy Abershaw, was merely a robber.&nbsp; Both, though
+bold and extraordinary men, were merely highwaymen.&nbsp; I questioned
+whether I could compose a tale likely to excite any particular interest
+out of the exploits of a mere robber.&nbsp; I want a character for my
+hero, thought I, something higher than a mere robber; some one like
+- like Colonel B-.&nbsp; By the way, why should I not write the life
+and adventures of Colonel B-, of Londonderry in Ireland?<br>
+<br>
+A truly singular man was this same Colonel B-, of Londonderry in Ireland;
+a personage of most strange and incredible feats and daring, who had
+been a partizan soldier, a bravo - who, assisted by certain discontented
+troopers, nearly succeeded in stealing the crown and regalia from the
+Tower of London; who attempted to hang the Duke of Ormond at Tyburn;
+and whose strange, eventful career did not terminate even with his life,
+his dead body, on the circulation of an unfounded report that he did
+not come to his death by fair means, having been exhumed by the mob
+of his native place, where he had retired to die, and carried in the
+coffin through the streets.<br>
+<br>
+Of his life I had inserted an account in the <i>Newgate Lives</i> <i>and
+Trials</i>; it was bare and meagre, and written in the stiff, awkward
+style of the seventeenth century; it had, however, strongly captivated
+my imagination, and I now thought that out of it something better could
+be made; that, if I added to the adventures, and purified the style,
+I might fashion out of it a very decent tale or novel.&nbsp; On a sudden,
+however, the proverb of mending old garments with new cloth occurred
+to me.&nbsp; &lsquo;I am afraid,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;any new adventures
+which I can invent will not fadge well with the old tale; one will but
+spoil the other.&rsquo;&nbsp; I had better have nothing to do with Colonel
+B-, thought I, but boldly and independently sit down and write the life
+of Joseph Sell.<br>
+<br>
+This Joseph Sell, dear reader, was a fictitious personage who had just
+come into my head.&nbsp; I had never even heard of the name, but just
+at that moment it happened to come into my head; I would write an entirely
+fictitious narrative, called the <i>Life and Adventures of Joseph Sell</i>,
+the great traveller.<br>
+<br>
+I had better begin at once, thought I; and removing the bread and the
+jug, which latter was now empty, I seized pen and paper, and forthwith
+essayed to write the life of Joseph Sell, but soon discovered that it
+is much easier to resolve upon a thing than to achieve it, or even to
+commence it; for the life of me I did not know how to begin, and, after
+trying in vain to write a line, I thought it would be as well to go
+to bed, and defer my projected undertaking till the morrow.<br>
+<br>
+So I went to bed, but not to sleep.&nbsp; During the greater part of
+the night I lay awake, musing upon the work which I had determined to
+execute.&nbsp; For a long time my brain was dry and unproductive; I
+could form no plan which appeared feasible.&nbsp; At length I felt within
+my brain a kindly glow; it was the commencement of inspiration; in a
+few minutes I had formed my plan; I then began to imagine the scenes
+and the incidents.&nbsp; Scenes and incidents flitted before my mind&rsquo;s
+eye so plentifully, that I knew not how to dispose of them; I was in
+a regular embarrassment.&nbsp; At length I got out of the difficulty
+in the easiest manner imaginable, namely, by consigning to the depths
+of oblivion all the feebler and less stimulant scenes and incidents,
+and retaining the better and more impressive ones.&nbsp; Before morning
+I had sketched the whole work on the tablets of my mind, and then resigned
+myself to sleep in the pleasing conviction that the most difficult part
+of my undertaking was achieved.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LVI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Considerably sobered - Power of writing - The tempter - Hungry talent
+- Work concluded.<br>
+<br>
+Rather late in the morning I awoke; for a few minutes I lay still, perfectly
+still; my imagination was considerably sobered; the scenes and situations
+which had pleased me so much over night appeared to me in a far less
+captivating guise that morning.&nbsp; I felt languid and almost hopeless
+- the thought, however, of my situation soon roused me - I must make
+an effort to improve the posture of my affairs; there was no time to
+be lost; so I sprang out of bed, breakfasted on bread and water, and
+then sat down doggedly to write the life of Joseph Sell.<br>
+<br>
+It was a great thing to have formed my plan, and to have arranged the
+scenes in my head, as I had done on the preceding night.&nbsp; The chief
+thing requisite at present was the mere mechanical act of committing
+them to paper.&nbsp; This I did not find at first so easy as I could
+wish - I wanted mechanical skill; but I persevered, and before evening
+I had written ten pages.&nbsp; I partook of some bread and water; and
+before I went to bed that night, I had completed fifteen pages of my
+life of Joseph Sell.<br>
+<br>
+The next day I resumed my task - I found my power of writing considerably
+increased; my pen hurried rapidly over the paper - my brain was in a
+wonderfully teeming state; many scenes and visions which I had not thought
+of before were evolved, and, as fast as evolved, written down; they
+seemed to be more pat to my purpose, and more natural to my history,
+than many others which I had imagined before, and which I made now give
+place to these newer creations: by about midnight I had added thirty
+fresh pages to my <i>Life</i> <i>and Adventures of Joseph Sell.<br>
+<br>
+</i>The third day arose - it was dark and dreary out of doors, and I
+passed it drearily enough within; my brain appeared to have lost much
+of its former glow, and my pen much of its power; I, however, toiled
+on, but at midnight had only added seven pages to my history of Joseph
+Sell.<br>
+<br>
+On the fourth day the sun shone brightly - I arose, and, having breakfasted
+as usual, I fell to work.&nbsp; My brain was this day wonderfully prolific,
+and my pen never before or since glided so rapidly over the paper; towards
+night I began to feel strangely about the back part of my head, and
+my whole system was extraordinarily affected.&nbsp; I likewise occasionally
+saw double - a tempter now seemed to be at work within me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You had better leave off now for a short space,&rsquo; said the
+tempter, &lsquo;and go out and drink a pint of beer; you have still
+one shilling left - if you go on at this rate, you will go mad - go
+out and spend sixpence, you can afford it, more than half your work
+is done.&rsquo;&nbsp; I was about to obey the suggestion of the tempter,
+when the idea struck me that, if I did not complete the work whilst
+the fit was on me, I should never complete it; so I held on. I am almost
+afraid to state how many pages I wrote that day of the life of Joseph
+Sell.<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;From this time I proceeded in a somewhat more leisurely manner;
+but, as I drew nearer and nearer to the completion of my task, dreadful
+fears and despondencies came over me. - It will be too late, thought
+I; by the time I have finished the work, the bookseller will have been
+supplied with a tale or a novel.&nbsp; Is it probable that, in a town
+like this, where talent is so abundant - hungry talent too - a bookseller
+can advertise for a tale or a novel, without being supplied with half
+a dozen in twenty-four hours?&nbsp; I may as well fling down my pen
+- I am writing to no purpose.&nbsp; And these thoughts came over my
+mind so often, that at last, in utter despair, I flung down the pen.&nbsp;
+Whereupon the tempter within me said - &lsquo;And, now you have flung
+down the pen, you may as well fling yourself out of the window; what
+remains for you to do?&rsquo;&nbsp; Why, to take it up again, thought
+I to myself, for I did not like the latter suggestion at all - and then
+forthwith I resumed the pen, and wrote with greater vigour than before,
+from about six o&rsquo;clock in the evening until I could hardly see,
+when I rested for a while, when the tempter within me again said, or
+appeared to say - &lsquo;All you have been writing is stuff, it will
+never do - a drug - a mere drug&rsquo;; and methought these last words
+were uttered in the gruff tones of the big publisher.&nbsp; &lsquo;A
+thing merely to be sneezed at,&rsquo; a voice like that of Taggart added;
+and then I seemed to hear a sternutation, - as I probably did, for,
+recovering from a kind of swoon, I found myself shivering with cold.&nbsp;
+The next day I brought my work to a conclusion.<br>
+<br>
+But the task of revision still remained; for an hour or two I shrank
+from it, and remained gazing stupidly at the pile of paper which I had
+written over.&nbsp; I was all but exhausted, and I dreaded, on inspecting
+the sheets, to find them full of absurdities which I had paid no regard
+to in the furor of composition.&nbsp; But the task, however trying to
+my nerves, must be got over; at last, in a kind of desperation, I entered
+upon it.&nbsp; It was far from an easy one; there were, however, fewer
+errors and absurdities than I had anticipated.&nbsp; About twelve o&rsquo;clock
+at night I had got over the task of revision.&nbsp; &lsquo;To-morrow
+for the bookseller,&rsquo; said I, as my head sank on the pillow.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Oh me!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LVII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Nervous look - The bookseller&rsquo;s wife - The last stake - Terms
+- God forbid! - Will you come to tea? - A light heart.<br>
+<br>
+On arriving at the bookseller&rsquo;s shop, I cast a nervous look at
+the window, for the purpose of observing whether the paper had been
+removed or not.&nbsp; To my great delight the paper was in its place;
+with a beating heart I entered, there was nobody in the shop; as I stood
+at the counter, however, deliberating whether or not I should call out,
+the door of what seemed to be a back-parlour opened, and out came a
+well-dressed lady-like female, of about thirty, with a good-looking
+and intelligent countenance.&nbsp; &lsquo;What is your business, young
+man?&rsquo; said she to me, after I had made her a polite bow.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I wish to speak to the gentleman of the house,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;My husband is not within at present,&rsquo; she replied; &lsquo;what
+is your business?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I have merely brought something
+to show him,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but I will call again.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;If you are the young gentleman who has been here before,&rsquo;
+said the lady, &lsquo;with poems and ballads, as, indeed, I know you
+are,&rsquo; she added, smiling, &lsquo;for I have seen you through the
+glass door, I am afraid it will be useless; that is,&rsquo; she added
+with another smile, &lsquo;if you bring us nothing else.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I have not brought you poems and ballads now,&rsquo; said I,
+&lsquo;but something widely different; I saw your advertisement for
+a tale or a novel, and have written something which I think will suit;
+and here it is,&rsquo; I added, showing the roll of paper which I held
+in my hand.&nbsp; &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the bookseller&rsquo;s wife,
+&lsquo;you may leave it, though I cannot promise you much chance of
+its being accepted.&nbsp; My husband has already had several offered
+to him; however, you may leave it; give it me.&nbsp; Are you afraid
+to intrust it to me?&rsquo; she demanded somewhat hastily, observing
+that I hesitated.&nbsp; &lsquo;Excuse me,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but
+it is all I have to depend upon in the world; I am chiefly apprehensive
+that it will not be read.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;On that point I can reassure
+you,&rsquo; said the good lady, smiling, and there was now something
+sweet in her smile.&nbsp; &lsquo;I give you my word that it shall be
+read; come again to-morrow morning at eleven, when, if not approved,
+it shall be returned to you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I returned to my lodging, and forthwith betook myself to bed, notwithstanding
+the earliness of the hour.&nbsp; I felt tolerably tranquil; I had now
+cast my last stake, and was prepared to abide by the result.&nbsp; Whatever
+that result might be, I could have nothing to reproach myself with;
+I had strained all the energies which nature had given me in order to
+rescue myself from the difficulties which surrounded me.&nbsp; I presently
+sank into a sleep, which endured during the remainder of the day, and
+the whole of the succeeding night.&nbsp; I awoke about nine on the morrow,
+and spent my last threepence on a breakfast somewhat more luxurious
+than the immediately preceding ones, for one penny of the sum was expended
+on the purchase of milk.<br>
+<br>
+At the appointed hour I repaired to the house of the bookseller; the
+bookseller was in his shop.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah,&rsquo; said he, as soon
+as I entered, &lsquo;I am glad to see you.&rsquo;&nbsp; There was an
+unwonted heartiness in the bookseller&rsquo;s tones, an unwonted benignity
+in his face.&nbsp; &lsquo;So,&rsquo; said he, after a pause, &lsquo;you
+have taken my advice, written a book of adventure; nothing like taking
+the advice, young man, of your superiors in age.&nbsp; Well, I think
+your book will do, and so does my wife, for whose judgment I have a
+great regard; as well I may, as she is the daughter of a first-rate
+novelist, deceased.&nbsp; I think I shall venture on sending your book
+to the press.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;we have
+not yet agreed upon terms.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Terms, terms,&rsquo;
+said the bookseller; &lsquo;ahem! well, there is nothing like coming
+to terms at once.&nbsp; I will print the book, and give you half the
+profit when the edition is sold.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;That will not do,&rsquo;
+said I; &lsquo;I intend shortly to leave London: I must have something
+at once.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah, I see,&rsquo; said the bookseller,
+&lsquo;in distress; frequently the case with authors, especially young
+ones.&nbsp; Well, I don&rsquo;t care if I purchase it of you, but you
+must be moderate; the public are very fastidious, and the speculation
+may prove a losing one after all.&nbsp; Let me see, will five - hem
+- &rsquo; he stopped.&nbsp; I looked the bookseller in the face; there
+was something peculiar in it.&nbsp; Suddenly it appeared to me as if
+the voice of him of the thimble sounded in my ear, &lsquo;Now is your
+time, ask enough, never such another chance of establishing yourself;
+respectable trade, pea and thimble.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Well,&rsquo;
+said I at last, &lsquo;I have no objection to take the offer which you
+were about to make, though I really think five-and-twenty guineas to
+be scarcely enough, everything considered.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Five-and-twenty
+guineas!&rsquo; said the bookseller; &lsquo;are you - what was I going
+to say - I never meant to offer half as much - I mean a quarter; I was
+going to say five guineas - I mean pounds; I will, however, make it
+up guineas.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;That will not do,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but,
+as I find we shall not deal, return me my manuscript, that I may carry
+it to some one else.&rsquo;&nbsp; The bookseller looked blank.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Dear me,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;I should never have supposed
+that you would have made any objection to such an offer; I am quite
+sure that you would have been glad to take five pounds for either of
+the two huge manuscripts of songs and ballads that you brought me on
+a former occasion.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;if
+you will engage to publish either of those two manuscripts, you shall
+have the present one for five pounds.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;God forbid
+that I should make any such bargain!&rsquo; said the bookseller; &lsquo;I
+would publish neither on any account; but, with respect to this last
+book, I have really an inclination to print it, both for your sake and
+mine; suppose we say ten pounds.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said
+I, &lsquo;ten pounds will not do; pray restore me my manuscript.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Stay,&rsquo; said the bookseller, &lsquo;my wife is in the next
+room, I will go and consult her.&rsquo;&nbsp; Thereupon he went into
+his back room, where I heard him conversing with his wife in a low tone;
+in about ten minutes he returned.&nbsp; &lsquo;Young gentleman,&rsquo;
+said he, &lsquo;perhaps you will take tea with us this evening, when
+we will talk further over the matter.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+That evening I went and took tea with the bookseller and his wife, both
+of whom, particularly the latter, overwhelmed me with civility.&nbsp;
+It was not long before I learned that the work had been already sent
+to the press, and was intended to stand at the head of a series of entertaining
+narratives, from which my friends promised themselves considerable profit.&nbsp;
+The subject of terms was again brought forward.&nbsp; I stood firm to
+my first demand for a long time; when, however, the bookseller&rsquo;s
+wife complimented me on my production in the highest terms, and said
+that she discovered therein the germs of genius, which she made no doubt
+would some day prove ornamental to my native land, I consented to drop
+my demand to twenty pounds, stipulating, however, that I should not
+be troubled with the correction of the work.<br>
+<br>
+Before I departed, I received the twenty pounds, and departed with a
+light heart to my lodgings.<br>
+<br>
+Reader, amidst the difficulties and dangers of this life, should you
+ever be tempted to despair, call to mind these latter chapters of the
+life of Lavengro.&nbsp; There are few positions, however difficult,
+from which dogged resolution and perseverance may not liberate you.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LVIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Indisposition - A resolution - Poor equivalents - The piece of gold
+- Flashing eyes - How beautiful - Bon jour, Monsieur.<br>
+<br>
+I had long ago determined to leave London as soon as the means should
+be in my power, and, now that they were, I determined to leave the Great
+City; yet I felt some reluctance to go.&nbsp; I would fain have pursued
+the career of original authorship which had just opened itself to me,
+and have written other tales of adventure.&nbsp; The bookseller had
+given me encouragement enough to do so; he had assured me that he should
+be always happy to deal with me for an article (that was the word) similar
+to the one I had brought him, provided my terms were moderate; and the
+bookseller&rsquo;s wife, by her complimentary language, had given me
+yet more encouragement.&nbsp; But for some months past I had been far
+from well, and my original indisposition, brought on partly by the peculiar
+atmosphere of the Big City, partly by anxiety of mind, had been much
+increased by the exertions which I had been compelled to make during
+the last few days.&nbsp; I felt that, were I to remain where I was,
+I should die, or become a confirmed valetudinarian.&nbsp; I would go
+forth into the country, travelling on foot, and, by exercise and inhaling
+pure air, endeavour to recover my health, leaving my subsequent movements
+to be determined by Providence.<br>
+<br>
+But whither should I bend my course?&nbsp; Once or twice I thought of
+walking home to the old town, stay some time with my mother and my brother,
+and enjoy the pleasant walks in the neighbourhood; but, though I wished
+very much to see my mother and my brother, and felt much disposed to
+enjoy the said pleasant walks, the old town was not exactly the place
+to which I wished to go at this present juncture.&nbsp; I was afraid
+that people would ask, Where are your Northern Ballads?&nbsp; Where
+are your alliterative translations from Ab Gwilym - of which you were
+always talking, and with which you promised to astonish the world?&nbsp;
+Now, in the event of such interrogations, what could I answer?&nbsp;
+It is true I had compiled <i>Newgate Lives and Trials</i>, and had written
+the life of Joseph Sell, but I was afraid that the people of the old
+town would scarcely consider these as equivalents for the Northern Ballads
+and the songs of Ab Gwilym.&nbsp; I would go forth and wander in any
+direction but that of the old town.<br>
+<br>
+But how one&rsquo;s sensibility on any particular point diminishes with
+time; at present I enter the old town perfectly indifferent as to what
+the people may be thinking on the subject of the songs and ballads.&nbsp;
+With respect to the people themselves, whether, like my sensibility,
+their curiosity has altogether evaporated, whether, which is at least
+equally probable, they never entertained any, one thing is certain,
+that never in a single instance have they troubled me with any remarks
+on the subject of the songs and ballads.<br>
+<br>
+As it was my intention to travel on foot, with a bundle and a stick,
+I despatched my trunk containing some few clothes and books to the old
+town.&nbsp; My preparations were soon made; in about three days I was
+in readiness to start.<br>
+<br>
+Before departing, however, I bethought me of my old friend the apple-woman
+of London Bridge.&nbsp; Apprehensive that she might be labouring under
+the difficulties of poverty, I sent her a piece of gold by the hands
+of a young maiden in the house in which I lived.&nbsp; The latter punctually
+executed her commission, but brought me back the piece of gold.&nbsp;
+The old woman would not take it; she did not want it, she said.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Tell the poor thin lad,&rsquo; she added, &lsquo;to keep it for
+himself, he wants it more than I.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Rather late one afternoon I departed from my lodging, with my stick
+in one hand and a small bundle in the other, shaping my course to the
+south-west: when I first arrived, somewhat more than a year before,
+I had entered the city by the north-east.&nbsp; As I was not going home,
+I determined to take my departure in the direction the very opposite
+to home.<br>
+<br>
+Just as I was about to cross the street called the Haymarket, at the
+lower part, a cabriolet, drawn by a magnificent animal, came dashing
+along at a furious rate; it stopped close by the curb-stone where I
+was, a sudden pull of the reins nearly bringing the spirited animal
+upon its haunches.&nbsp; The Jehu who had accomplished this feat was
+Francis Ardry.&nbsp; A small beautiful female, with flashing eyes, dressed
+in the extremity of fashion, sat beside him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Holloa, friend,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry, &lsquo;whither bound?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not know,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;all I can say is, that I
+am about to leave London.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And the means?&rsquo; said Francis Ardry.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have them,&rsquo; said I, with a cheerful smile.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Qui est celui-ci?&rsquo; demanded the small female, impatiently.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;C&rsquo;est - mon ami le plus intime; so you were about to leave
+London, without telling me a word,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry, somewhat
+angrily.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I intended to have written to you,&rsquo; said I: &lsquo;what
+a splendid mare that is.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is she not?&rsquo; said Francis Ardry, who was holding in the
+mare with difficulty; &lsquo;she cost a hundred guineas.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Qu&rsquo;est ce qu&rsquo;il dit?&rsquo; demanded his companion.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Il dit que le jument est bien beau.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Allons, mon ami, il est tard,&rsquo; said the beauty, with a
+scornful toss of her head; &lsquo;allons!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Encore un moment,&rsquo; said Francis Ardry; &lsquo;and when
+shall I see you again?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I scarcely know,&rsquo; I replied: &lsquo;I never saw a more
+splendid turn out.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Qu&rsquo;est ce qu&rsquo;il dit?&rsquo; I said the lady again.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Il dit que tout l&rsquo;&eacute;quipage est en assez bon go&ucirc;t.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Allons, c&rsquo;est un ours,&rsquo; said the lady; &lsquo;le
+cheval m&ecirc;me en a peur,&rsquo; added she, as the mare reared up
+on high.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Can you find nothing else to admire but the mare and the equipage?&rsquo;
+said Francis Ardry, reproachfully, after he had with some difficulty
+brought the mare to order.<br>
+<br>
+Lifting my hand, in which I held my stick, I took off my hat.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;How beautiful!&rsquo; said I, looking the lady full in the face.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Comment?&rsquo; said the lady, inquiringly.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Il dit que vous &ecirc;tes belle comme un ange,&rsquo; said Francis
+Ardry, emphatically.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Mais, &agrave; la bonne heure! arr&ecirc;tez, mon ami,&rsquo;
+said the lady to Francis Ardry, who was about to drive off; &lsquo;je
+voudrais bien causer un moment avec lui; arr&ecirc;tez, il est d&eacute;licieux.
+- Est-ce bien ainsi que vous traitez vos amis?&rsquo; said she passionately,
+as Francis Ardry lifted up his whip.&nbsp; &lsquo;Bon jour, Monsieur,
+bon jour,&rsquo; said she, thrusting her head from the side and looking
+back, as Francis Ardry drove off at the rate of thirteen miles an hour.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LIX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The milestone - The meditation - Want to get up? - The off-hand leader
+- Sixteen shillings - The near-hand wheeler - All right.<br>
+<br>
+In about two hours I had cleared the Great City, and got beyond the
+suburban villages, or rather towns, in the direction in which I was
+travelling; I was in a broad and excellent road, leading I knew not
+whither.&nbsp; I now slackened my pace, which had hitherto been great.&nbsp;
+Presently, coming to a milestone on which was graven nine miles, I rested
+against it, and looking round towards the vast city, which had long
+ceased to be visible, I fell into a train of meditation.<br>
+<br>
+I thought of all my ways and doings since the day of my first arrival
+in that vast city - I had worked and toiled, and, though I had accomplished
+nothing at all commensurate with the hopes which I had entertained previous
+to my arrival, I had achieved my own living, preserved my independence,
+and become indebted to no one.&nbsp; I was now quitting it, poor in
+purse, it is true, but not wholly empty; rather ailing it may be, but
+not broken in health; and, with hope within my bosom, had I not cause
+upon the whole to be thankful?&nbsp; Perhaps there were some who, arriving
+at the same time under not more favourable circumstances, had accomplished
+much more, and whose future was far more hopeful - Good!&nbsp; But there
+might be others who, in spite of all their efforts, had been either
+trodden down in the press, never more to be heard of, or were quitting
+that mighty town broken in purse, broken in health, and, oh! with not
+one dear hope to cheer them.&nbsp; Had I not, upon the whole, abundant
+cause to be grateful?&nbsp; Truly, yes!<br>
+<br>
+My meditation over, I left the milestone and proceeded on my way in
+the same direction as before until the night began to close in.&nbsp;
+I had always been a good pedestrian; but now, whether owing to indisposition
+or to not having for some time past been much in the habit of taking
+such lengthy walks, I began to feel not a little weary.&nbsp; Just as
+I was thinking of putting up for the night at the next inn or public-house
+I should arrive at, I heard what sounded like a coach coming up rapidly
+behind me.&nbsp; Induced, perhaps, by the weariness which I felt, I
+stopped and looked wistfully in the direction of the sound; presently
+up came a coach, seemingly a mail, drawn by four bounding horses - there
+was no one upon it but the coachman and the guard; when nearly parallel
+with me it stopped.&nbsp; &lsquo;Want to get up?&rsquo; sounded a voice,
+in the true coachman-like tone - half querulous, half authoritative.&nbsp;
+I hesitated; I was tired, it is true, but I had left London bound on
+a pedestrian excursion, and I did not much like the idea of having recourse
+to a coach after accomplishing so very inconsiderable a distance.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Come, we can&rsquo;t be staying here all night,&rsquo; said the
+voice, more sharply than before.&nbsp; &lsquo;I can ride a little way,
+and get down whenever I like,&rsquo; thought I; and springing forward
+I clambered up the coach, and was going to sit down upon the box, next
+the coachman.&nbsp; &lsquo;No, no,&rsquo; said the coachman, who was
+a man about thirty, with a hooked nose and red face, dressed in a fashionably-cut
+greatcoat, with a fashionable black castor on his head.&nbsp; &lsquo;No,
+no, keep behind - the box ain&rsquo;t for the like of you,&rsquo; said
+he, as he drove off; &lsquo;the box is for lords, or gentlemen at least.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+I made no answer.&nbsp; &lsquo;D- that off-hand leader,&rsquo; said
+the coachman, as the right-hand front horse made a desperate start at
+something he saw in the road; and, half rising, he with great dexterity
+hit with his long whip the off-hand leader a cut on the off cheek.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;These seem to be fine horses,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; The coachman
+made no answer.&nbsp; &lsquo;Nearly thoroughbred,&rsquo; I continued;
+the coachman drew his breath, with a kind of hissing sound, through
+his teeth.&nbsp; &lsquo;Come, young fellow, none of your chaff.&nbsp;
+Don&rsquo;t you think, because you ride on my mail, I&rsquo;m going
+to talk to you about &rsquo;orses.&nbsp; I talk to nobody about &lsquo;orses
+except lords.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I have
+been called a lord in my time.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;It must have been
+by a thimble-rigger, then,&rsquo; said the coachman, bending back, and
+half turning his face round with a broad leer.&nbsp; &lsquo;You have
+hit the mark wonderfully,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;You coachmen,
+whatever else you may be, are certainly no fools.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;We
+ain&rsquo;t, ain&rsquo;t we?&rsquo; said the coachman.&nbsp; &lsquo;There
+you are right; and, to show you that you are, I&rsquo;ll now trouble
+you for your fare.&nbsp; If you have been amongst the thimble-riggers
+you must be tolerably well cleared out.&nbsp; Where are you going? -
+to - ?&nbsp; I think I have seen you there.&nbsp; The fare is sixteen
+shillings.&nbsp; Come, tip us the blunt; them that has no money can&rsquo;t
+ride on my mail.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Sixteen shillings was a large sum, and to pay it would make a considerable
+inroad on my slender finances; I thought, at first, that I would say
+I did not want to go so far; but then the fellow would ask at once where
+I wanted to go, and I was ashamed to acknowledge my utter ignorance
+of the road.&nbsp; I determined, therefore, to pay the fare, with a
+tacit determination not to mount a coach in future without knowing whither
+I was going.&nbsp; So I paid the man the money, who, turning round,
+shouted to the guard - &lsquo;All right, Jem; got fare to - &rsquo;;
+and forthwith whipped on his horses, especially the off hand leader,
+for whom he seemed to entertain a particular spite, to greater speed
+than before - the horses flew.<br>
+<br>
+A young moon gave a feeble light, partially illuminating a line of road
+which, appearing by no means interesting, I the less regretted having
+paid my money for the privilege of being hurried along it in the flying
+vehicle.&nbsp; We frequently changed horses; and at last my friend the
+coachman was replaced by another, the very image of himself - hawk nose,
+red face, with narrow-rimmed hat and fashionable benjamin.&nbsp; After
+he had driven about fifty yards, the new coachman fell to whipping one
+of the horses.&nbsp; &lsquo;D- this near-hand wheeler,&rsquo; said he,
+&lsquo;the brute has got a corn.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Whipping him won&rsquo;t
+cure him of his corn,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Who told you to speak?&rsquo;
+said the driver, with an oath; &lsquo;mind your own business; &rsquo;tisn&rsquo;t
+from the like of you I am to learn to drive &lsquo;orses.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Presently I fell into a broken kind of slumber.&nbsp; In an hour or
+two I was aroused by a rough voice - &lsquo;Got to -, young man; get
+down if you please.&rsquo;&nbsp; I opened my eyes - there was a dim
+and indistinct light, like that which precedes dawn; the coach was standing
+still in something like a street; just below me stood the guard.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Do you mean to get down,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;or will you keep
+us here till morning? other fares want to get up.&rsquo;&nbsp; Scarcely
+knowing what I did, I took my bundle and stick and descended, whilst
+two people mounted.&nbsp; &lsquo;All right, John,&rsquo; said the guard
+to the coachman, springing up behind; whereupon off whisked the coach,
+one or two individuals who were standing by disappeared, and I was left
+alone.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The still hour - A thrill - The wondrous circle - The shepherd - Heaps
+and barrows - What do you mean? - Milk of the plains - Hengist spared
+it - No presents.<br>
+<br>
+After standing still a minute or two, considering what I should do,
+I moved down what appeared to be the street of a small straggling town;
+presently I passed by a church, which rose indistinctly on my right
+hand; anon there was the rustling of foliage and the rushing of waters.&nbsp;
+I reached a bridge, beneath which a small stream was running in the
+direction of the south.&nbsp; I stopped and leaned over the parapet,
+for I have always loved to look upon streams, especially at the still
+hours.&nbsp; &lsquo;What stream is this, I wonder?&rsquo; said I, as
+I looked down from the parapet into the water, which whirled and gurgled
+below.<br>
+<br>
+Leaving the bridge, I ascended a gentle acclivity, and presently reached
+what appeared to be a tract of moory undulating ground.&nbsp; It was
+now tolerably light, but there was a mist or haze abroad which prevented
+my seeing objects with much precision.&nbsp; I felt chill in the damp
+air of the early morn, and walked rapidly forward.&nbsp; In about half
+an hour I arrived where the road divided into two, at an angle or tongue
+of dark green sward.&nbsp; &lsquo;To the right or the left?&rsquo; said
+I, and forthwith took, without knowing why, the left-hand road, along
+which I proceeded about a hundred yards, when, in the midst of the tongue
+of sward formed by the two roads, collaterally with myself, I perceived
+what I at first conceived to be a small grove of blighted trunks of
+oaks, barked and gray.&nbsp; I stood still for a moment, and then, turning
+off the road, advanced slowly towards it over the sward; as I drew nearer,
+I perceived that the objects which had attracted my curiosity, and which
+formed a kind of circle, were not trees, but immense upright stones.&nbsp;
+A thrill pervaded my system; just before me were two, the mightiest
+of the whole, tall as the stems of proud oaks, supporting on their tops
+a huge transverse stone, and forming a wonderful doorway.&nbsp; I knew
+now where I was, and, laying down my stick and bundle, and taking off
+my hat, I advanced slowly, and cast myself - it was folly, perhaps,
+but I could not help what I did - cast myself, with my face on the dewy
+earth, in the middle of the portal of giants, beneath the transverse
+stone.<br>
+<br>
+The spirit of Stonehenge was strong upon me!<br>
+<br>
+And after I had remained with my face on the ground for some time, I
+arose, placed my hat on my head, and, taking up my stick and bundle,
+wandered round the wondrous circle, examining each individual stone,
+from the greatest to the least; and then, entering by the great door,
+seated myself upon an immense broad stone, one side of which was supported
+by several small ones, and the other slanted upon the earth; and there,
+in deep meditation, I sat for an hour or two, till the sun shone in
+my face above the tall stones of the eastern side.<br>
+<br>
+And as I still sat there, I heard the noise of bells, and presently
+a large number of sheep came browsing past the circle of stones; two
+or three entered, and grazed upon what they could find, and soon a man
+also entered the circle at the northern side.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Early here, sir,&rsquo; said the man, who was tall, and dressed
+in a dark green slop, and had all the appearance of a shepherd; &lsquo;a
+traveller, I suppose?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am a traveller; are these sheep
+yours?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They are, sir; that is, they are my master&rsquo;s.&nbsp; A strange
+place this, sir,&rsquo; said he, looking at the stones; &lsquo;ever
+here before?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never in body, frequently in mind.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Heard of the stones, I suppose; no wonder - all the people of
+the plain talk of them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do the people of the plain say of them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, they say - How did they ever come here?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do they not suppose them to have been brought?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who should have brought them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have read that they were brought by many thousand men.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where from?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ireland.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How did they bring them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what did they bring them for?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To form a temple, perhaps.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A place to worship God in.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A strange place to worship God in.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It has no roof.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, it has.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where?&rsquo; said the man, looking up.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you see above you?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The sky.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Have you anything to say?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How did these stones come here?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are there other stones like these on the plains?&rsquo; said
+I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;None; and yet there are plenty of strange things on these downs.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What are they?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Strange heaps, and barrows, and great walls of earth built on
+the tops of hills.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do the people of the plain wonder how they came there?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They do not.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They were raised by hands.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And these stones?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How did they ever come here?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wonder whether they are here?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;These stones?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So sure as the world,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;and, as the
+world, they will stand as long.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wonder whether there is a world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you mean?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;An earth, and sea, moon and stars, sheep and men.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you doubt it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sometimes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never heard it doubted before.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is impossible there should be a world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It ain&rsquo;t possible there shouldn&rsquo;t be a world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Just so.&rsquo;&nbsp; At this moment a fine ewe, attended by
+a lamb, rushed into the circle and fondled the knees of the shepherd.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I suppose you would not care to have some milk,&rsquo; said the
+man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why do you suppose so?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because, so be there be no sheep, no milk, you know; and what
+there ben&rsquo;t is not worth having.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You could not have argued better,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;that
+is, supposing you have argued; with respect to the milk you may do as
+you please.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Be still, Nanny,&rsquo; said the man; and producing a tin vessel
+from his scrip, he milked the ewe into it.&nbsp; &lsquo;Here is milk
+of the plains, master,&rsquo; said the man, as he handed the vessel
+to me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where are those barrows and great walls of earth you were speaking
+of?&rsquo; said I, after I had drunk some of the milk; &lsquo;are there
+any near where we are?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not within many miles; the nearest is yonder away,&rsquo; said
+the shepherd, pointing to the south-east.&nbsp; &lsquo;It&rsquo;s a
+grand place, that, but not like this; quite different, and from it you
+have a sight of the finest spire in the world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I must go to it,&rsquo; said I, and I drank the remainder of
+the milk; &lsquo;yonder, you say.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, yonder; but you cannot get to it in that direction, the
+river lies between.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What river?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Avon.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Avon is British,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;we are all British here.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, we are not,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What are we then?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;English.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ain&rsquo;t they one?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who were the British?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The men who are supposed to have worshipped God in this place,
+and who raised these stones.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where are they now?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Our forefathers slaughtered them, spilled their blood all about,
+especially in this neighbourhood, destroyed their pleasant places, and
+left not, to use their own words, one stone upon another.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, they did,&rsquo; said the shepherd, looking aloft at the
+transverse stone.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And it is well for them they did; whenever that stone, which
+English hands never raised, is by English hands thrown down, woe, woe,
+woe to the English race; spare it, English! Hengist spared it! - Here
+is sixpence.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I won&rsquo;t have it,&rsquo; said the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why not?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You talk so prettily about these stones; you seem to know all
+about them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never receive presents; with respect to the stones, I say with
+yourself, How did they ever come here?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How did they ever come here?&rsquo; said the shepherd.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The river - Arid downs - A prospect.<br>
+<br>
+Leaving the shepherd, I bent my way in the direction pointed out by
+him as that in which the most remarkable of the strange remains of which
+he had spoken lay.&nbsp; I proceeded rapidly, making my way over the
+downs covered with coarse grass and fern; with respect to the river
+of which he had spoken, I reflected that, either by wading or swimming,
+I could easily transfer myself and what I bore to the opposite side.&nbsp;
+On arriving at its banks, I found it a beautiful stream, but shallow,
+with here and there a deep place where the water ran dark and still.<br>
+<br>
+Always fond of the pure lymph, I undressed, and plunged into one of
+these gulfs, from which I emerged, my whole frame in a glow, and tingling
+with delicious sensations.&nbsp; After conveying my clothes and scanty
+baggage to the farther side, I dressed, and then with hurried steps
+bent my course in the direction of some lofty ground; I at length found
+myself on a high-road, leading over wide and arid downs; following the
+road for some miles without seeing anything remarkable, I supposed at
+length that I had taken the wrong path, and wended on slowly and disconsolately
+for some time, till, having nearly surmounted a steep hill, I knew at
+once, from certain appearances, that I was near the object of my search.&nbsp;
+Turning to the right near the brow of the hill, I proceeded along a
+path which brought me to a causeway leading over a deep ravine, and
+connecting the hill with another which had once formed part of it, for
+the ravine was evidently the work of art.&nbsp; I passed over the causeway,
+and found myself in a kind of gateway which admitted me into a square
+space of many acres, surrounded on all sides by mounds or ramparts of
+earth.&nbsp; Though I had never been in such a place before, I knew
+that I stood within the precincts of what had been a Roman encampment,
+and one probably of the largest size, for many thousand warriors might
+have found room to perform their evolutions in that space, in which
+corn was now growing, the green ears waving in the morning wind.<br>
+<br>
+After I had gazed about the space for a time, standing in the gateway
+formed by the mounds, I clambered up the mound to the left hand, and
+on the top of that mound I found myself at a great altitude; beneath,
+at the distance of a mile, was a fair old city, situated amongst verdant
+meadows, watered with streams, and from the heart of that old city,
+from amidst mighty trees, I beheld towering to the sky the finest spire
+in the world.<br>
+<br>
+And after I had looked from the Roman rampart for a long time, I hurried
+away, and, retracing my steps along the cause-way, regained the road,
+and, passing over the brow of the hill, descended to the city of the
+spire.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The hostelry - Life uncertain - Open countenance - The grand point -
+Thank you, master - A hard mother - Poor dear! - Considerable odds -
+The better country - English fashion - Landlord-looking person.<br>
+<br>
+And in the old city I remained two days, passing my time as I best could
+- inspecting the curiosities of the place, eating and drinking when
+I felt so disposed, which I frequently did, the digestive organs having
+assumed a tone to which for many months they had been strangers - enjoying
+at night balmy sleep in a large bed in a dusky room, at the end of a
+corridor, in a certain hostelry in which I had taken up my quarters
+- receiving from the people of the hostelry such civility and condescension
+as people who travel on foot with bundle and stick, but who nevertheless
+are perceived to be not altogether destitute of coin, are in the habit
+of receiving.&nbsp; On the third day, on a fine sunny afternoon, I departed
+from the city of the spire.<br>
+<br>
+As I was passing through one of the suburbs, I saw, all on a sudden,
+a respectable-looking female fall down in a fit; several persons hastened
+to her assistance.&nbsp; &lsquo;She is dead,&rsquo; said one.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;No, she is not,&rsquo; said another.&nbsp; &lsquo;I am afraid
+she is,&rsquo; said a third.&nbsp; &lsquo;Life is very uncertain,&rsquo;
+said a fourth.&nbsp; &lsquo;It is Mrs. -,&rsquo; said a fifth; &lsquo;let
+us carry her to her own house.&rsquo;&nbsp; Not being able to render
+any assistance, I left the poor female in the hands of her townsfolk,
+and proceeded on my way.&nbsp; I had chosen a road in the direction
+of the north-west, it led over downs where corn was growing, but where
+neither tree nor hedge was to be seen; two or three hours&rsquo; walking
+brought me to a beautiful valley, abounding with trees of various kinds,
+with a delightful village at its farthest extremity; passing through
+it, I ascended a lofty acclivity, on the top of which I sat down on
+a bank, and, taking off my hat, permitted a breeze, which swept coolly
+and refreshingly over the downs, to dry my hair, dripping from the effects
+of exercise and the heat of the day.<br>
+<br>
+And as I sat there, gazing now at the blue heavens, now at the downs
+before me, a man came along the road in the direction in which I had
+hitherto been proceeding: just opposite to me he stopped, and, looking
+at me, cried - &lsquo;Am I right for London, master?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+He was dressed like a sailor, and appeared to be between twenty-five
+and thirty years of age - he had an open manly countenance, and there
+was a bold and fearless expression in his eye.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, in reply to his question; &lsquo;this is
+one of the ways to London.&nbsp; Do you come from far?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;From -,&rsquo; said the man, naming a well-known seaport.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is this the direct road to London from that place?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;but I had to visit two or three
+other places on certain commissions I was intrusted with; amongst others
+to -, where I had to take a small sum of money.&nbsp; I am rather tired,
+master; and, if you please, I will sit down beside you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You have as much right to sit down here as I have,&rsquo; said
+I; &lsquo;the road is free for every one; as for sitting down beside
+me, you have the look of an honest man, and I have no objection to your
+company.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, as for being honest, master,&rsquo; said the man, laughing
+and sitting down by me, &lsquo;I haven&rsquo;t much to say - many is
+the wild thing I have done when I was younger; however, what is done,
+is done.&nbsp; To learn, one must live, master; and I have lived long
+enough to learn the grand point of wisdom.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is that?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That honesty is the best policy, master.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You appear to be a sailor,&rsquo; said I, looking at his dress.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was not bred a sailor,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;though,
+when my foot is on the salt water, I can play the part - and play it
+well too.&nbsp; I am now from a long voyage.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;From America?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Farther than that,&rsquo; said the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Have you any objection to tell me?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;From New South Wales,&rsquo; said the man, looking me full in
+the face.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dear me,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why do you say &ldquo;Dear me&rdquo;?&rsquo; said the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is a very long way off,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Was that your reason for saying so?&rsquo; said the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not exactly,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said the man, with something of a bitter smile; &lsquo;it
+was something else that made you say so; you were thinking of the convicts.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;what then - you are no convict.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How do you know?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You do not look like one.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thank you, master,&rsquo; said the man cheerfully; &lsquo;and,
+to a certain extent, you are right - bygones are bygones - I am no longer
+what I was, nor ever will be again; the truth, however, is the truth
+- a convict I have been - a convict at Sydney Cove.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you have served out the period for which you were sentenced,
+and are now returned?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As to serving out my sentence,&rsquo; replied the man, &lsquo;I
+can&rsquo;t say that I did; I was sentenced for fourteen years, and
+I was in Sydney Cove little more than half that time.&nbsp; The truth
+is that I did the Government a service.&nbsp; There was a conspiracy
+amongst some of the convicts to murder and destroy - I overheard and
+informed the Government; mind one thing, however, I was not concerned
+in it; those who got it up were no comrades of mine, but a bloody gang
+of villains.&nbsp; Well, the Government, in consideration of the service
+I had done them, remitted the remainder of my sentence; and some kind
+gentlemen interested themselves about me, gave me good books and good
+advice, and, being satisfied with my conduct, procured me employ in
+an exploring expedition, by which I earned money.&nbsp; In fact, the
+being sent to Sydney was the best thing that ever happened to me in
+all my life.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you have now returned to your native country.&nbsp; Longing
+to see home brought you from New South Wales.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There you are mistaken,&rsquo; said the man.&nbsp; &lsquo;Wish
+to see England again would never have brought me so far; for, to tell
+you the truth, master, England was a hard mother to me, as she has proved
+to many.&nbsp; No, a wish to see another kind of mother - a poor old
+woman, whose son I am - has brought me back.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You have a mother, then?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Does she
+reside in London?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;She used to live in London,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;but I
+am afraid she is long since dead.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How did she support herself?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Support herself! with difficulty enough; she used to keep a small
+stall on London Bridge, where she sold fruit; I am afraid she is dead,
+and that she died perhaps in misery.&nbsp; She was a poor sinful creature;
+but I loved her, and she loved me.&nbsp; I came all the way back merely
+for the chance of seeing her.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did you ever write to her,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;or cause others
+to write to her?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wrote to her myself,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;about two
+years ago; but I never received an answer.&nbsp; I learned to write
+very tolerably over there, by the assistance of the good people I spoke
+of.&nbsp; As for reading, I could do that very well before I went -
+my poor mother taught me to read, out of a book that she was very fond
+of; a strange book it was, I remember.&nbsp; Poor dear! - what I would
+give only to know that she is alive.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Life is very uncertain,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That is true,&rsquo; said the man, with a sigh.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We are here one moment, and gone the next,&rsquo; I continued.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;As I passed through the streets of a neighbouring town, I saw
+a respectable woman drop down, and people said she was dead.&nbsp; Who
+knows but that she too had a son coming to see her from a distance,
+at that very time?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who knows, indeed?&rsquo; said the man.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah, I am
+afraid my mother is dead.&nbsp; Well, God&rsquo;s will be done.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;However,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I should not wonder at your finding
+your mother alive.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You wouldn&rsquo;t?&rsquo; said the man, looking at me wistfully.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I should not wonder at all,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;indeed, something
+within me seems to tell me you will; I should not much mind betting
+five shillings to fivepence that you will see your mother within a week.&nbsp;
+Now, friend, five shillings to fivepence - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is very considerable odds,&rsquo; said the man, rubbing his hands;
+&lsquo;sure you must have good reason to hope, when you are willing
+to give such odds.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;After all,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;it not unfrequently happens
+that those who lay the long odds lose.&nbsp; Let us hope, however.&nbsp;
+What do you mean to do in the event of finding your mother alive?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I scarcely know,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;I have frequently
+thought that if I found my mother alive I would attempt to persuade
+her to accompany me to the country which I have left - it is a better
+country for a man - that is, a free man - to live in than this; however,
+let me first find my mother - if I could only find my mother - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Farewell,&rsquo; said I, rising.&nbsp; &lsquo;Go your way, and
+God go with you - I will go mine.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I have but one
+thing to ask you,&rsquo; said the man.&nbsp; &lsquo;What is that?&rsquo;
+I inquired.&nbsp; &lsquo;That you would drink with me before we part
+- you have done me so much good.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;How should we drink?&rsquo;
+said I; &lsquo;we are on the top of a hill where there is nothing to
+drink.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;But there is a village below,&rsquo; said
+the man; &lsquo;do let us drink before we part.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+have been through that village already,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and I
+do not like turning back.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah,&rsquo; said the man,
+sorrowfully, &lsquo;you will not drink with me because I told you I
+was - &rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You are quite mistaken,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I
+would as soon drink with a convict as with a judge.&nbsp; I am by no
+means certain that, under the same circumstances, the judge would be
+one whit better than the convict.&nbsp; Come along!&nbsp; I will go
+back to oblige you.&nbsp; I have an odd sixpence in my pocket, which
+I will change that I may drink with you.&rsquo;&nbsp; So we went down
+the hill together to the village through which I had already passed,
+where, finding a public-house, we drank together in true English fashion,
+after which we parted, the sailor-looking man going his way and I mine.<br>
+<br>
+After walking about a dozen miles, I came to a town, where I rested
+for the night.&nbsp; The next morning I set out again in the direction
+of the north-west.&nbsp; I continued journeying for four days, my daily
+journeys varying from twenty to twenty-five miles.&nbsp; During this
+time nothing occurred to me worthy of any especial notice.&nbsp; The
+weather was brilliant, and I rapidly improved both in strength and spirits.&nbsp;
+On the fifth day, about two o&rsquo;clock, I arrived at a small town.&nbsp;
+Feeling hungry, I entered a decent-looking inn - within a kind of bar
+I saw a huge, fat, landlord-looking person, with a very pretty, smartly-dressed
+maiden.&nbsp; Addressing myself to the fat man, &lsquo;House!&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;house!&nbsp; Can I have dinner, house?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Primitive habits - Rosy-faced damsel - A pleasant moment - Suit of black
+- The furtive glance - The mighty round - Degenerate times - The newspaper
+- The evil chance - I congratulate you.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Young gentleman,&rsquo; said the huge fat landlord, &lsquo;you
+are come at the right time; dinner will be taken up in a few minutes,
+and such a dinner,&rsquo; he continued, rubbing his hands, &lsquo;as
+you will not see every day in these times.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am hot and dusty,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and should wish to
+cool my hands and face.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Jenny!&rsquo; said the huge landlord, with the utmost gravity,
+&lsquo;show the gentleman into number seven, that he may wash his hands
+and face.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By no means,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am a person of primitive
+habits, and there is nothing like the pump in weather like this.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Jenny,&rsquo; said the landlord, with the same gravity as before,
+&lsquo;go with the young gentleman to the pump in the back kitchen,
+and take a clean towel along with you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon the rosy-faced clean-looking damsel went to a drawer, and
+producing a large, thick, but snowy white towel, she nodded to me to
+follow her; whereupon I followed Jenny through a long passage into the
+back kitchen.<br>
+<br>
+And at the end of the back kitchen there stood a pump; and going to
+it I placed my hands beneath the spout, and said, &lsquo;Pump, Jenny&rsquo;;
+and Jenny incontinently, without laying down the towel, pumped with
+one hand, and I washed and cooled my heated hands.<br>
+<br>
+And, when my hands were washed and cooled, I took off my neckcloth,
+and, unbuttoning my shirt collar, I placed my head beneath the spout
+of the pump, and I said unto Jenny, &lsquo;Now, Jenny, lay down the
+towel, and pump for your life.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon Jenny, placing the towel on a linen-horse, took the handle
+of the pump with both hands and pumped over my head as handmaid had
+never pumped before; so that the water poured in torrents from my head,
+my face, and my hair down upon the brick floor.<br>
+<br>
+And, after the lapse of somewhat more than a minute, I called out with
+a half-strangled voice, &lsquo;Hold, Jenny!&rsquo; and Jenny desisted.&nbsp;
+I stood for a few moments to recover my breath, then taking the towel
+which Jenny proffered, I dried composedly my hands and head, my face
+and hair; then, returning the towel to Jenny, I gave a deep sigh and
+said, &lsquo;Surely this is one of the pleasant moments of life.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Then, having set my dress to rights, and combed my hair with a pocket
+comb, I followed Jenny, who conducted me back through the long passage,
+and showed me into a neat sanded parlour on the ground-floor.<br>
+<br>
+I sat down by a window which looked out upon the dusty street; presently
+in came the handmaid, and commenced laying the table-cloth.&nbsp; &lsquo;Shall
+I spread the table for one, sir,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;or do you expect
+anybody to dine with you?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t say that
+I expect anybody,&rsquo; said I, laughing inwardly to myself; &lsquo;however,
+if you please you can lay for two, so that if any acquaintance of mine
+should chance to step in, he may find a knife and fork ready for him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+So I sat by the window, sometimes looking out upon the dusty street,
+and now glancing at certain old-fashioned prints which adorned the wall
+over against me.&nbsp; I fell into a kind of doze, from which I was
+almost instantly awakened by the opening of the door.&nbsp; Dinner,
+thought I; and I sat upright in my chair.&nbsp; No; a man of the middle
+age, and rather above the middle height, dressed in a plain suit of
+black, made his appearance, and sat down in a chair at some distance
+from me, but near to the table, and appeared to be lost in thought.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The weather is very warm, sir,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very,&rsquo; said the stranger, laconically, looking at me for
+the first time.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Would you like to see the newspaper?&rsquo; said I, taking up
+one which lay upon the window seat.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never read newspapers,&rsquo; said the stranger, &lsquo;nor,
+indeed, - &rsquo;&nbsp; Whatever it might be that he had intended to
+say he left unfinished.&nbsp; Suddenly he walked to the mantelpiece
+at the farther end of the room, before which he placed himself with
+his back towards me.&nbsp; There he remained motionless for some time;
+at length, raising his hand, he touched the corner of the mantelpiece
+with his finger, advanced towards the chair which he had left, and again
+seated himself.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Have you come far?&rsquo; said he, suddenly looking towards me,
+and speaking in a frank and open manner, which denoted a wish to enter
+into conversation.&nbsp; &lsquo;You do not seem to be of this place.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I come from some distance,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;indeed, I am
+walking for exercise, which I find as necessary to the mind as the body.&nbsp;
+I believe that by exercise people would escape much mental misery.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Scarcely had I uttered these words when the stranger laid his hand,
+with seeming carelessness, upon the table, near one of the glasses;
+after a moment or two he touched the glass with his finger as if inadvertently,
+then, glancing furtively at me, he withdrew his hand and looked towards
+the window.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are you from these parts?&rsquo; said I at last, with apparent
+carelessness.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;From this vicinity,&rsquo; replied the stranger.&nbsp; &lsquo;You
+think, then, that it is as easy to walk off the bad humours of the mind
+as of the body?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I, at least, am walking in that hope,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish you may be successful,&rsquo; said the stranger; and here
+he touched one of the forks which lay on the table near him.<br>
+<br>
+Here the door, which was slightly ajar, was suddenly pushed open with
+some fracas, and in came the stout landlord, supporting with some difficulty
+an immense dish, in which was a mighty round mass of smoking meat garnished
+all round with vegetables; so high was the mass that it probably obstructed
+his view, for it was not until he had placed it upon the table that
+he appeared to observe the stranger; he almost started, and quite out
+of breath exclaimed, &lsquo;God bless me, your honour; is your honour
+the acquaintance that the young gentleman was expecting?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is the young gentleman expecting an acquaintance?&rsquo; said
+the stranger.<br>
+<br>
+There is nothing like putting a good face upon these matters, thought
+I to myself; and, getting up, I bowed to the unknown.&nbsp; &lsquo;Sir,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;when I told Jenny that she might lay the table-cloth
+for two, so that in the event of any acquaintance dropping in he might
+find a knife and fork ready for him, I was merely jocular, being an
+entire stranger in these parts, and expecting no one.&nbsp; Fortune,
+however, it would seem, has been unexpectedly kind to me; I flatter
+myself, sir, that since you have been in this room I have had the honour
+of making your acquaintance; and in the strength of that hope I humbly
+entreat you to honour me with your company to dinner, provided you have
+not already dined.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The stranger laughed outright.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; I continued, &lsquo;the round of beef is a noble
+one, and seems exceedingly well boiled, and the landlord was just right
+when he said I should have such a dinner as is not seen every day.&nbsp;
+A round of beef, at any rate such a round of beef as this, is seldom
+seen smoking upon the table in these degenerate times.&nbsp; Allow me,
+sir,&rsquo; said I, observing that the stranger was about to speak,
+&lsquo;allow me another remark.&nbsp; I think I saw you just now touch
+the fork; I venture to hail it as an omen that you will presently seize
+it, and apply it to its proper purpose, and its companion the knife
+also.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The stranger changed colour, and gazed upon me in silence.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do, sir,&rsquo; here put in the landlord; &lsquo;do, sir, accept
+the young gentleman&rsquo;s invitation.&nbsp; Your honour has of late
+been looking poorly, and the young gentleman is a funny young gentleman,
+and a clever young gentleman; and I think it will do your honour good
+to have a dinner&rsquo;s chat with the young gentleman.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is not my dinner hour,&rsquo; said the stranger; &lsquo;I
+dine considerably later; taking anything now would only discompose me;
+I shall, however, be most happy to sit down with the young gentleman;
+reach me that paper, and, when the young gentleman has satisfied his
+appetite, we may perhaps have a little chat together.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The landlord handed the stranger the newspaper, and, bowing, retired
+with his maid Jenny.&nbsp; I helped myself to a portion of the smoking
+round, and commenced eating with no little appetite.&nbsp; The stranger
+appeared to be soon engrossed with the newspaper.&nbsp; We continued
+thus a considerable time - the one reading and the other dining.&nbsp;
+Chancing suddenly to cast my eyes upon the stranger, I saw his brow
+contract; he gave a slight stamp with his foot, and flung the newspaper
+to the ground, then stooping down he picked it up, first moving his
+forefinger along the floor, seemingly slightly scratching it with his
+nail.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you hope, sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;by that ceremony with
+the finger to preserve yourself from the evil chance?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The stranger started; then, after looking at me for some time in silence,
+he said, &lsquo;Is it possible that you - ?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay,&rsquo; said I, helping myself to some more of the round;
+&lsquo;I have touched myself in my younger days, both for the evil chance
+and the good.&nbsp; Can&rsquo;t say, though, that I ever trusted much
+in the ceremony.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The stranger made no reply, but appeared to be in deep thought; nothing
+farther passed between us until I had concluded the dinner, when I said
+to him, &lsquo;I shall now be most happy, sir, to have the pleasure
+of your conversation over a pint of wine.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The stranger rose; &lsquo;No, my young friend,&rsquo; said he, smiling,
+&lsquo;that would scarce be fair.&nbsp; It is my turn now - pray do
+me the favour to go home with me, and accept what hospitality my poor
+roof can offer; to tell you the truth, I wish to have some particular
+discourse with you which would hardly be possible in this place.&nbsp;
+As for wine, I can give you some much better than you can get here:
+the landlord is an excellent fellow, but he is an innkeeper after all.&nbsp;
+I am going out for a moment, and will send him in, so that you may settle
+your account; I trust you will not refuse me, I only live about two
+miles from here.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I looked in the face of the stranger - it was a fine intelligent face,
+with a cast of melancholy in it.&nbsp; &lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I
+would go with you though you lived four miles instead of two.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is that gentleman?&rsquo; said I to the landlord, after I
+had settled his bill; &lsquo;I am going home with him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish I were going too,&rsquo; said the fat landlord, laying
+his hand upon his stomach.&nbsp; &lsquo;Young gentleman, I shall be
+a loser by his honour&rsquo;s taking you away; but, after all, the truth
+is the truth - there are few gentlemen in these parts like his honour,
+either for learning or welcoming his friends.&nbsp; Young gentleman,
+I congratulate you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXIV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+New acquaintance - Old French style - The portrait - Taciturnity - The
+evergreen tree - The dark hour - The flash - Ancestors - A fortunate
+man - A posthumous child - Antagonist ideas - The hawks - Flaws - The
+pony - Irresistible impulse - Favourable crisis - The topmost branch
+- Twenty feet - Heartily ashamed.<br>
+<br>
+I found the stranger awaiting me at the door of the inn.&nbsp; &lsquo;Like
+yourself, I am fond of walking,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;and when any
+little business calls me to this place I generally come on foot.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+We were soon out of the town, and in a very beautiful country.&nbsp;
+After proceeding some distance on the high-road, we turned off, and
+were presently in one of those mazes of lanes for which England is famous;
+the stranger at first seemed inclined to be taciturn; a few observations,
+however, which I made appeared to rouse him, and he soon exhibited not
+only considerable powers of conversation, but stores of information
+which surprised me.&nbsp; So pleased did I become with my new acquaintance
+that I soon ceased to pay the slightest attention either to place or
+distance.&nbsp; At length the stranger was silent, and I perceived that
+we had arrived at a handsome iron gate and a lodge; the stranger having
+rung a bell, the gate was opened by an old man, and we proceeded along
+a gravel path, which in about five minutes brought us to a large brick
+house, built something in the old French style, having a spacious lawn
+before it, and immediately in front a pond in which were golden fish,
+and in the middle a stone swan discharging quantities of water from
+its bill.&nbsp; We ascended a spacious flight of steps to the door,
+which was at once flung open, and two servants with powdered hair and
+in livery of blue plush came out and stood one on either side as we
+passed the threshold.&nbsp; We entered a large hall, and the stranger,
+taking me by the hand, welcomed me to his poor home, as he called it,
+and then gave orders to another servant, but out of livery, to show
+me to an apartment, and give me whatever assistance I might require
+in my toilet.&nbsp; Notwithstanding the plea as to primitive habits
+which I had lately made to my other host in the town, I offered no objection
+to this arrangement, but followed the bowing domestic to a spacious
+and airy chamber, where he rendered me all those little nameless offices
+which the somewhat neglected state of my dress required.&nbsp; When
+everything had been completed to my perfect satisfaction, he told me
+that if I pleased he would conduct me to the library, where dinner would
+be speedily served.<br>
+<br>
+In the library I found a table laid for two; my host was not there,
+having as I supposed not been quite so speedy with his toilet as his
+guest.&nbsp; Left alone, I looked round the apartment with inquiring
+eyes; it was long and tolerably lofty, the walls from the top to the
+bottom were lined with cases containing books of all sizes and bindings;
+there was a globe or two, a couch, and an easy-chair.&nbsp; Statues
+and busts there were none, and only one painting, a portrait, that of
+my host, but not him of the mansion.&nbsp; Over the mantelpiece, the
+features staringly like, but so ridiculously exaggerated that they scarcely
+resembled those of a human being, daubed evidently by the hand of the
+commonest sign-artist, hung a half-length portrait of him of round of
+beef celebrity - my sturdy host of the town.<br>
+<br>
+I had been in the library about ten minutes, amusing myself as I best
+could, when my friend entered; he seemed to have resumed his taciturnity
+- scarce a word escaped his lips till dinner was served, when he said,
+smiling, &lsquo;I suppose it would be merely a compliment to ask you
+to partake?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said I, seating myself; &lsquo;your
+first course consists of troutlets, I am fond of troutlets, and I always
+like to be companionable.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The dinner was excellent, though I did but little justice to it from
+the circumstance of having already dined; the stranger also, though
+without my excuse, partook but slightly of the good cheer; he still
+continued taciturn, and appeared lost in thought, and every attempt
+which I made to induce him to converse was signally unsuccessful.<br>
+<br>
+And now dinner was removed, and we sat over our wine, and I remember
+that the wine was good, and fully justified the encomiums of my host
+of the town.&nbsp; Over the wine I made sure that my entertainer would
+have loosened the chain which seemed to tie his tongue - but no!&nbsp;
+I endeavoured to tempt him by various topics, and talked of geometry
+and the use of the globes, of the heavenly sphere, and the star Jupiter,
+which I said I had heard was a very large star, also of the evergreen
+tree, which, according to Olaus, stood of old before the heathen temple
+of Upsal, and which I affirmed was a yew - but no, nothing that I said
+could induce my entertainer to relax his taciturnity.<br>
+<br>
+It grew dark, and I became uncomfortable.&nbsp; &lsquo;I must presently
+be going,&rsquo; I at last exclaimed.<br>
+<br>
+At these words he gave a sudden start; &lsquo;Going,&rsquo; said he,
+&lsquo;are you not my guest, and an honoured one?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You know best,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but I was apprehensive I
+was an intruder; to several of my questions you have returned no answer.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ten thousand pardons!&rsquo; he exclaimed, seizing me by the
+hand; &lsquo;but you cannot go now, I have much to talk to you about
+- there is one thing in particular - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If it be the evergreen tree at Upsal,&rsquo; said I, interrupting
+him, &lsquo;I hold it to have been a yew - what else?&nbsp; The evergreens
+of the south, as the old bishop observes, will not grow in the north,
+and a pine was unfitted for such a locality, being a vulgar tree.&nbsp;
+What else could it have been but the yew - the sacred yew which our
+ancestors were in the habit of planting in their churchyards?&nbsp;
+Moreover, I affirm it to have been the yew for the honour of the tree;
+for I love the yew, and had I home and land, I would have one growing
+before my front windows.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You would do right, the yew is indeed a venerable tree, but it
+is not about the yew.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The star Jupiter, perhaps?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nor the star Jupiter, nor its moons; an observation which escaped
+you at the inn has made a considerable impression upon me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But I really must take my departure,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;the
+dark hour is at hand.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And as I uttered these latter words the stranger touched rapidly something
+which lay near him - I forget what it was.&nbsp; It was the first action
+of the kind which I had observed on his part since we sat down to table.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You allude to the evil chance,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but it is
+getting both dark and late.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I believe we are going to have a storm,&rsquo; said my friend,
+&lsquo;but I really hope that you will give me your company for a day
+or two; I have, as I said before, much to talk to you about.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I shall be most happy to be your
+guest for this night; I am ignorant of the country, and it is not pleasant
+to travel unknown paths by night - dear me, what a flash of lightning.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+It had become very dark; suddenly a blaze of sheet lightning illumed
+the room.&nbsp; By the momentary light I distinctly saw my host touch
+another object upon the table.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Will you allow me to ask you a question or two?&rsquo; said he
+at last.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As many as you please,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but shall we not
+have lights?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not unless you particularly wish it,&rsquo; said my entertainer;
+&lsquo;I rather like the dark, and though a storm is evidently at hand,
+neither thunder nor lightning has any terrors for me.&nbsp; It is other
+things I quake at - I should rather say ideas.&nbsp; Now permit me to
+ask you - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And then my entertainer asked me various questions, to all of which
+I answered unreservedly; he was then silent for some time, at last he
+exclaimed, &lsquo;I should wish to tell you the history of my life -
+though not an adventurous one, I think it contains some things which
+will interest you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Without waiting for my reply he began.&nbsp; Amidst darkness and gloom,
+occasionally broken by flashes of lightning, the stranger related to
+me, as we sat at table in the library, his truly touching history.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Before proceeding to relate the events of my life, it will not
+be amiss to give you some account of my ancestors.&nbsp; My great-grandfather
+on the male side was a silk mercer, in Cheapside, who, when he died,
+left his son, who was his only child, a fortune of one hundred thousand
+pounds and a splendid business; the son, however, had no inclination
+for trade, the summit of his ambition was to be a country gentleman,
+to found a family, and to pass the remainder of his days in rural ease
+and dignity, and all this he managed to accomplish; he disposed of his
+business, purchased a beautiful and extensive estate for fourscore thousand
+pounds, built upon it the mansion to which I had the honour of welcoming
+you to-day, married the daughter of a neighbouring squire, who brought
+him a fortune of five thousand pounds, became a magistrate, and only
+wanted a son and heir to make him completely happy; this blessing, it
+is true, was for a long time denied him; it came, however, at last,
+as is usual, when least expected.&nbsp; His lady was brought to bed
+of my father, and then who so happy a man as my grandsire; he gave away
+two thousand pounds in charities, and in the joy of his heart made a
+speech at the next quarter sessions; the rest of his life was spent
+in ease, tranquillity, and rural dignity; he died of apoplexy on the
+day that my father came of age; perhaps it would be difficult to mention
+a man who in all respects was so fortunate as my grandfather: his death
+was sudden it is true, but I am not one of those who pray to be delivered
+from a sudden death.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I should not call my father a fortunate man; it is true that
+he had the advantage of a first-rate education; that he made the grand
+tour with a private tutor, as was the fashion at that time; that he
+came to a splendid fortune on the very day that he came of age; that
+for many years he tasted all the diversions of the capital that, at
+last determined to settle, he married the sister of a baronet, an amiable
+and accomplished lady, with a large fortune; that he had the best stud
+of hunters in the county, on which, during the season, he followed the
+fox gallantly; had he been a fortunate man he would never have cursed
+his fate, as he was frequently known to do; ten months after his marriage
+his horse fell upon him, and so injured him, that he expired in a few
+days in great agony.&nbsp; My grandfather was, indeed, a fortunate man;
+when he died he was followed to the grave by the tears of the poor -
+my father was not.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Two remarkable circumstances are connected with my birth - I
+am a posthumous child, and came into the world some weeks before the
+usual time, the shock which my mother experienced at my father&rsquo;s
+death having brought on the pangs of premature labour; both my mother&rsquo;s
+life and my own were at first despaired of; we both, however, survived
+the crisis.&nbsp; My mother loved me with the most passionate fondness,
+and I was brought up in this house under her own eye - I was never sent
+to school.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have already told you that mine is not a tale of adventure;
+my life has not been one of action, but of wild imaginings and strange
+sensations; I was born with excessive sensibility, and that has been
+my bane.&nbsp; I have not been a fortunate man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No one is fortunate unless he is happy, and it is impossible
+for a being constructed like myself to be happy for an hour, or even
+enjoy peace and tranquillity; most of our pleasures and pains are the
+effects of imagination, and wherever the sensibility is great, the imagination
+is great also.&nbsp; No sooner has my imagination raised up an image
+of pleasure, than it is sure to conjure up one of distress and gloom;
+these two antagonist ideas instantly commence a struggle in my mind,
+and the gloomy one generally, I may say invariably, prevails.&nbsp;
+How is it possible that I should be a happy man?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It has invariably been so with me from the earliest period that
+I can remember; the first playthings that were given me caused me for
+a few minutes excessive pleasure: they were pretty and glittering; presently,
+however, I became anxious and perplexed, I wished to know their history,
+how they were made, and what of - were the materials precious?&nbsp;
+I was not satisfied with their outward appearance.&nbsp; In less than
+an hour I had broken the playthings in an attempt to discover what they
+were made of.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;When I was eight years of age my uncle the baronet, who was also
+my godfather, sent me a pair of Norway hawks, with directions for managing
+them; he was a great fowler.&nbsp; Oh, how rejoiced was I with the present
+which had been made me, my joy lasted for at least five minutes; I would
+let them breed, I would have a house of hawks; yes, that I would - but
+- and here came the unpleasant idea - suppose they were to flyaway,
+how very annoying!&nbsp; Ah, but, said hope, there&rsquo;s little fear
+of that; feed them well and they will never fly away, or if they do
+they will come back, my uncle says so; so sunshine triumphed for a little
+time.&nbsp; Then the strangest of all doubts came into my head; I doubted
+the legality of my tenure of these hawks; how did I come by them? why,
+my uncle gave them to me, but how did they come into his possession?
+what right had he to them? after all, they might not be his to give.&nbsp;
+I passed a sleepless night.&nbsp; The next morning I found that the
+man who brought the hawks had not departed.&nbsp; &ldquo;How came my
+uncle by these hawks?&rdquo; I anxiously inquired.&nbsp; &ldquo;They
+were sent to him from Norway, master, with another pair.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;And who sent them?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;That I don&rsquo;t know,
+master, but I suppose his honour can tell you.&rdquo;&nbsp; I was even
+thinking of scrawling a letter to my uncle to make inquiry on this point,
+but shame restrained me, and I likewise reflected that it would be impossible
+for him to give my mind entire satisfaction; it is true he could tell
+who sent him the hawks, but how was he to know how the hawks came into
+the possession of those who sent them to him, and by what right they
+possessed them or the parents of the hawks?&nbsp; In a word, I wanted
+a clear valid title, as lawyers would say, to my hawks, and I believe
+no title would have satisfied me that did not extend up to the time
+of the first hawk, that is, prior to Adam; and, could I have obtained
+such a title, I make no doubt that, young as I was, I should have suspected
+that it was full of flaws.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was now disgusted with the hawks, and no wonder, seeing all
+the disquietude they had caused me; I soon totally neglected the poor
+birds, and they would have starved had not some of the servants taken
+compassion upon them and fed them.&nbsp; My uncle, soon hearing of my
+neglect, was angry, and took the birds away; he was a very good-natured
+man, however, and soon sent me a fine pony; at first I was charmed with
+the pony, soon, however, the same kind of thoughts arose which had disgusted
+me on a former occasion.&nbsp; How did my uncle become possessed of
+the pony?&nbsp; This question I asked him the first time I saw him.&nbsp;
+Oh, he had bought it of a gypsy, that I might learn to ride upon it.&nbsp;
+A gypsy; I had heard that gypsies were great thieves, and I instantly
+began to fear that the gypsy had stolen the pony, and it is probable
+that for this apprehension I had better grounds than for many others.&nbsp;
+I instantly ceased to set any value upon the pony, but for that reason,
+perhaps, I turned it to some account; I mounted it and rode it about,
+which I don&rsquo;t think I should have done had I looked upon it as
+a secure possession.&nbsp; Had I looked upon my title as secure, I should
+have prized it so much, that I should scarcely have mounted it for fear
+of injuring the animal; but now, caring not a straw for it, I rode it
+most unmercifully, and soon became a capital rider.&nbsp; This was very
+selfish in me, and I tell the fact with shame.&nbsp; I was punished,
+however, as I deserved; the pony had a spirit of its own, and, moreover,
+it had belonged to gypsies; once, as I was riding it furiously over
+the lawn, applying both whip and spur, it suddenly lifted up its heels,
+and flung me at least five yards over its head.&nbsp; I received some
+desperate contusions, and was taken up for dead; it was many months
+before I perfectly recovered.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But it is time for me to come to the touching part of my story.&nbsp;
+There was one thing that I loved better than the choicest gift which
+could be bestowed upon me, better than life itself - my mother; - at
+length she became unwell, and the thought that I might possibly lose
+her now rushed into my mind for the first time; it was terrible, and
+caused me unspeakable misery, I may say horror.&nbsp; My mother became
+worse, and I was not allowed to enter her apartment, lest by my frantic
+exclamations of grief I might aggravate her disorder.&nbsp; I rested
+neither day nor night, but roamed about the house like one distracted.&nbsp;
+Suddenly I found myself doing that which even at the time struck me
+as being highly singular; I found myself touching particular objects
+that were near me, and to which my fingers seemed to be attracted by
+an irresistible impulse.&nbsp; It was now the table or the chair that
+I was compelled to touch; now the bell-rope; now the handle of the door;
+now I would touch the wall, and the next moment, stooping down, I would
+place the point of my finger upon the floor: and so I continued to do
+day after day; frequently I would struggle to resist the impulse, but
+invariably in vain.&nbsp; I have even rushed away from the object, but
+I was sure to return, the impulse was too strong to be resisted: I quickly
+hurried back, compelled by the feeling within me to touch the object.&nbsp;
+Now I need not tell you that what impelled me to these actions was the
+desire to prevent my mother&rsquo;s death; whenever I touched any particular
+object, it was with the view of baffling the evil chance, as you would
+call it - in this instance my mother&rsquo;s death.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A favourable crisis occurred in my mother&rsquo;s complaint,
+and she recovered; this crisis took place about six o&rsquo;clock in
+the morning; almost simultaneously with it there happened to myself
+a rather remarkable circumstance connected with the nervous feeling
+which was rioting in my system.&nbsp; I was lying in bed in a kind of
+uneasy doze, the only kind of rest which my anxiety on account of my
+mother permitted me at this time to take, when all at once I sprang
+up as if electrified; the mysterious impulse was upon me, and it urged
+me to go without delay, and climb a stately elm behind the house, and
+touch the topmost branch; otherwise - you know the rest - the evil chance
+would prevail.&nbsp; Accustomed for some time as I had been, under this
+impulse, to perform extravagant actions, I confess to you that the difficulty
+and peril of such a feat startled me; I reasoned against the feeling,
+and strove more strenuously than I had ever done before; I even made
+a solemn vow not to give way to the temptation, but I believe nothing
+less than chains, and those strong ones, could have restrained me.&nbsp;
+The demoniac influence, for I can call it nothing else, at length prevailed;
+it compelled me to rise, to dress myself, to descend the stairs, to
+unbolt the door, and to go forth; it drove me to the foot of the tree,
+and it compelled me to climb the trunk; this was a tremendous task,
+and I only accomplished it after repeated falls and trials.&nbsp; When
+I had got amongst the branches, I rested for a time, and then set about
+accomplishing the remainder of the ascent; this for some time was not
+so difficult, for I was now amongst the branches; as I approached the
+top, however, the difficulty became greater, and likewise the danger;
+but I was a light boy, and almost as nimble as a squirrel, and, moreover,
+the nervous feeling was within me, impelling me upward.&nbsp; It was
+only by means of a spring, however, that I was enabled to touch the
+top of the tree; I sprang, touched the top of the tree, and fell a distance
+of at least twenty feet, amongst the branches; had I fallen to the bottom
+I must have been killed, but I fell into the middle of the tree, and
+presently found myself astride upon one of the boughs; scratched and
+bruised all over, I reached the ground, and regained my chamber unobserved;
+I flung myself on my bed quite exhausted; presently they came to tell
+me that my mother was better - they found me in the state which I have
+described, and in a fever besides.&nbsp; The favourable crisis must
+have occurred just about the time that I performed the magic touch;
+it certainly was a curious coincidence, yet I was not weak enough, even
+though a child, to suppose that I had baffled the evil chance by my
+daring feat.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Indeed, all the time that I was performing these strange feats,
+I knew them to be highly absurd, yet the impulse to perform them was
+irresistible - a mysterious dread hanging over me till I had given way
+to it; even at that early period I frequently used to reason within
+myself as to what could be the cause of my propensity to touch, but
+of course I could come to no satisfactory conclusion respecting it;
+being heartily ashamed of the practice, I never spoke of it to any one,
+and was at all times highly solicitous that no one should observe my
+weakness.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Maternal anxiety - The baronet - Little zest - Country life - Mr. Speaker!
+- The craving - Spirited address - An author.<br>
+<br>
+After a short pause my host resumed his narration.&nbsp; &lsquo;Though
+I was never sent to school, my education was not neglected on that account;
+I had tutors in various branches of knowledge, under whom I made a tolerable
+progress; by the time I was eighteen I was able to read most of the
+Greek and Latin authors with facility; I was likewise, to a certain
+degree, a mathematician.&nbsp; I cannot say that I took much pleasure
+in my studies; my chief aim in endeavouring to accomplish my tasks was
+to give pleasure to my beloved parent, who watched my progress with
+anxiety truly maternal.&nbsp; My life at this period may be summed up
+in a few words: I pursued my studies, roamed about the woods, walked
+the green lanes occasionally, cast my fly in a trout stream, and sometimes,
+but not often, rode a-hunting with my uncle.&nbsp; A considerable part
+of my time was devoted to my mother, conversing with her and reading
+to her; youthful companions I had none, and as to my mother, she lived
+in the greatest retirement, devoting herself to the superintendence
+of my education, and the practice of acts of charity; nothing could
+be more innocent than this mode of life, and some people say that in
+innocence there is happiness, yet I can&rsquo;t say that I was happy.&nbsp;
+A continual dread overshadowed my mind, it was the dread of my mother&rsquo;s
+death.&nbsp; Her constitution had never been strong, and it had been
+considerably shaken by her last illness; this I knew, and this I saw
+- for the eyes of fear are marvellously keen.&nbsp; Well, things went
+on in this way till I had come of age; my tutors were then dismissed,
+and my uncle the baronet took me in hand, telling my mother that it
+was high time for him to exert his authority; that I must see something
+of the world, for that, if I remained much longer with her, I should
+be ruined.&nbsp; &ldquo;You must consign him to me,&rdquo; said he,
+&ldquo;and I will introduce him to the world.&rdquo;&nbsp; My mother
+sighed and consented; so my uncle the baronet introduced me to the world,
+took me to horse-races and to London, and endeavoured to make a man
+of me according to his idea of the term, and in part succeeded.&nbsp;
+I became moderately dissipated - I say moderately, for dissipation had
+but little zest for me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In this manner four years passed over.&nbsp; It happened that
+I was in London in the height of the season with my uncle, at his house;
+one morning he summoned me into the parlour, he was standing before
+the fire, and looked very serious.&nbsp; &ldquo;I have had a letter,&rdquo;
+said he; &ldquo;your mother is very ill.&rdquo;&nbsp; I staggered, and
+touched the nearest object to me; nothing was said for two or three
+minutes, and then my uncle put his lips to my ear and whispered something.&nbsp;
+I fell down senseless.&nbsp; My mother was . . . I remember nothing
+for a long time - for two years I was out of my mind; at the end of
+this time I recovered, or partly so.&nbsp; My uncle the baronet was
+very kind to me; he advised me to travel, he offered to go with me.&nbsp;
+I told him he was very kind, but I would rather go by myself.&nbsp;
+So I went abroad, and saw, amongst other things, Rome and the Pyramids.&nbsp;
+By frequent change of scene my mind became not happy, but tolerably
+tranquil.&nbsp; I continued abroad some years, when, becoming tired
+of travelling, I came home, found my uncle the baronet alive, hearty,
+and unmarried, as he still is.&nbsp; He received me very kindly, took
+me to Newmarket, and said that he hoped by this time I was become quite
+a man of the world; by his advice I took a house in town, in which I
+lived during the season.&nbsp; In summer I strolled from one watering-place
+to another; and, in order to pass the time, I became very dissipated.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;At last I became as tired of dissipation as I had previously
+been of travelling, and I determined to retire to the country, and live
+on my paternal estate; this resolution I was not slow in putting into
+effect; I sold my house in town, repaired and refurnished my country
+house, and, for at least ten years, lived a regular country life; I
+gave dinner parties, prosecuted poachers, was charitable to the poor,
+and now and then went into my library; during this time I was seldom
+or never visited by the magic impulse, the reason being that there was
+nothing in the wide world for which I cared sufficiently to move a finger
+to preserve it.&nbsp; When the ten years, however, were nearly ended,
+I started out of bed one morning in a fit of horror, exclaiming, &ldquo;Mercy,
+mercy! what will become of me?&nbsp; I am afraid I shall go mad.&nbsp;
+I have lived thirty-five years and upwards without doing anything; shall
+I pass through life in this manner?&nbsp; Horror!&rdquo;&nbsp; And then
+in rapid succession I touched three different objects.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I dressed myself and went down, determining to set about something;
+but what was I to do? - there was the difficulty.&nbsp; I ate no breakfast,
+but walked about the room in a state of distraction; at last I thought
+that the easiest way to do something was to get into Parliament, there
+would be no difficulty in that.&nbsp; I had plenty of money, and could
+buy a seat; but what was I to do in Parliament?&nbsp; Speak, of course
+- but could I speak?&nbsp; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll try at once,&rdquo; said
+I, and forthwith I rushed into the largest dining-room, and, locking
+the door, I commenced speaking: &ldquo;Mr. Speaker,&rdquo; said I, and
+then I went on speaking for about ten minutes as I best could, and then
+I left off, for I was talking nonsense.&nbsp; No, I was not formed for
+Parliament; I could do nothing there.&nbsp; What - what was I to do?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Many, many times I thought this question over, but was unable
+to solve it; a fear now stole over me that I was unfit for anything
+in the world, save the lazy life of vegetation which I had for many
+years been leading; yet, if that were the case, thought I, why the craving
+within me to distinguish myself?&nbsp; Surely it does not occur fortuitously,
+but is intended to rouse and call into exercise certain latent powers
+that I possess? and then with infinite eagerness I set about attempting
+to discover these latent powers.&nbsp; I tried an infinity of pursuits,
+botany and geology amongst the rest, but in vain; I was fitted for none
+of them.&nbsp; I became very sorrowful and despondent, and at one time
+I had almost resolved to plunge again into the whirlpool of dissipation;
+it was a dreadful resource, it was true, but what better could I do?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But I was not doomed to return to the dissipation of the world.&nbsp;
+One morning a young nobleman, who had for some time past showed a wish
+to cultivate my acquaintance, came to me in a considerable hurry.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;I am come to beg an important favour of you,&rdquo; said he;
+&ldquo;one of the county memberships is vacant - I intend to become
+a candidate; what I want immediately is a spirited address to the electors.&nbsp;
+I have been endeavouring to frame one all the morning, but in vain;
+I have, therefore, recourse to you as a person of infinite genius; pray,
+my dear friend, concoct me one by the morning!&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;What
+you require of me,&rdquo; I replied, &ldquo;is impossible; I have not
+the gift of words; did I possess it I would stand for the county myself,
+but I can&rsquo;t speak.&nbsp; Only the other day I attempted to make
+a speech, but left off suddenly, utterly ashamed, although I was quite
+alone, of the nonsense I was uttering.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;It is not
+a speech that I want,&rdquo; said my friend; &ldquo;I can talk for three
+hours without hesitating, but I want an address to circulate through
+the county, and I find myself utterly incompetent to put one together;
+do oblige me by writing one for me, I know you can; and, if at any time
+you want a person to speak for you, you may command me not for three
+but for six hours.&nbsp; Good-morning; to-morrow I will breakfast with
+you.&rdquo;&nbsp; In the morning he came again.&nbsp; &ldquo;Well,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;what success?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Very poor,&rdquo;
+said I; &ldquo;but judge for yourself&rdquo;; and I put into his hand
+a manuscript of several pages.&nbsp; My friend read it through with
+considerable attention.&nbsp; &ldquo;I congratulate you,&rdquo; said
+he, &ldquo;and likewise myself; I was not mistaken in my opinion of
+you; the address is too long by at least two-thirds, or I should rather
+say, that it is longer by two-thirds than addresses generally are; but
+it will do - I will not curtail it of a word.&nbsp; I shall win my election.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+And in truth he did win his election; and it was not only his own but
+the general opinion that he owed it to the address.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But, however that might be, I had, by writing the address, at
+last discovered what had so long eluded my search - what I was able
+to do.&nbsp; I, who had neither the nerve nor the command of speech
+necessary to constitute the orator - who had not the power of patient
+research required by those who would investigate the secrets of nature,
+had, nevertheless, a ready pen and teeming imagination.&nbsp; This discovery
+decided my fate - from that moment I became an author.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXVI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Trepidations - Subtle principle - Perverse imagination - Are they mine?
+- Another book - How hard! - Agricultural dinner - Incomprehensible
+actions - Inmost bosom - Give it up - Chance resemblance - Rascally
+newspaper.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;An author,&rsquo; said I, addressing my host; &lsquo;is it possible
+that I am under the roof of an author?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said my host, sighing, &lsquo;my name is so and so,
+and I am the author of so and so; it is more than probable that you
+have heard both of my name and works.&nbsp; I will not detain you much
+longer with my history; the night is advancing, and the storm appears
+to be upon the increase.&nbsp; My life since the period of my becoming
+an author may be summed briefly as an almost uninterrupted series of
+doubts, anxieties, and trepidations.&nbsp; I see clearly that it is
+not good to love anything immoderately in this world, but it has been
+my misfortune to love immoderately everything on which I have set my
+heart.&nbsp; This is not good, I repeat - but where is the remedy?&nbsp;
+The ancients were always in the habit of saying, &ldquo;Practise moderation,&rdquo;
+but the ancients appear to have considered only one portion of the subject.&nbsp;
+It is very possible to practise moderation in some things, in drink
+and the like - to restrain the appetites - but can a man restrain the
+affections of his mind, and tell them, so far you shall go, and no farther?&nbsp;
+Alas, no! for the mind is a subtle principle, and cannot be confined.&nbsp;
+The winds may be imprisoned; Homer says that Odysseus carried certain
+winds in his ship, confined in leathern bags, but Homer never speaks
+of confining the affections.&nbsp; It were but right that those who
+exhort us against inordinate affections, and setting our hearts too
+much upon the world and its vanities, would tell us how to avoid doing
+so.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I need scarcely tell you that no sooner did I become an author
+than I gave myself up immoderately to my vocation.&nbsp; It became my
+idol, and, as a necessary consequence, it has proved a source of misery
+and disquietude to me, instead of pleasure and blessing.&nbsp; I had
+trouble enough in writing my first work, and I was not long in discovering
+that it was one thing to write a stirring and spirited address to a
+set of county electors, and another widely different to produce a work
+at all calculated to make an impression upon the great world.&nbsp;
+I felt, however, that I was in my proper sphere, and by dint of unwearied
+diligence and exertion I succeeded in evolving from the depths of my
+agitated breast a work which, though it did not exactly please me, I
+thought would serve to make an experiment upon the public; so I laid
+it before the public, and the reception which it met with was far beyond
+my wildest expectations.&nbsp; The public were delighted with it, but
+what were my feelings?&nbsp; Anything, alas! but those of delight.&nbsp;
+No sooner did the public express its satisfaction at the result of my
+endeavours, than my perverse imagination began to conceive a thousand
+chimerical doubts; forthwith I sat down to analyse it; and my worst
+enemy, and all people have their enemies, especially authors - my worst
+enemy could not have discovered or sought to discover a tenth part of
+the faults which I, the author and creator of the unfortunate production,
+found or sought to find in it.&nbsp; It has been said that love makes
+us blind to the faults of the loved object - common love does, perhaps
+- the love of a father to his child, or that of a lover to his mistress,
+but not the inordinate love of an author to his works, at least not
+the love which one like myself bears to his works: to be brief, I discovered
+a thousand faults in my work, which neither public nor critics discovered.&nbsp;
+However, I was beginning to get over this misery, and to forgive my
+work all its imperfections, when - and I shake when I mention it - the
+same kind of idea which perplexed me with regard to the hawks and the
+gypsy pony rushed into my mind, and I forthwith commenced touching the
+objects around me, in order to baffle the evil chance, as you call it;
+it was neither more nor less than a doubt of the legality of my claim
+to the thoughts, expressions, and situations contained in the book;
+that is, to all that constituted the book.&nbsp; How did I get them?&nbsp;
+How did they come into my mind?&nbsp; Did I invent them?&nbsp; Did they
+originate with myself?&nbsp; Are they my own, or are they some other
+body&rsquo;s?&nbsp; You see into what difficulty I had got; I won&rsquo;t
+trouble you by relating all that I endured at that time, but will merely
+say that after eating my own heart, as the Italians say, and touching
+every object that came in my way for six months, I at length flung my
+book, I mean the copy of it which I possessed, into the fire, and began
+another.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But it was all in vain; I laboured at this other, finished it,
+and gave it to the world; and no sooner had I done so, than the same
+thought was busy in my brain, poisoning all the pleasure which I should
+otherwise have derived from my work.&nbsp; How did I get all the matter
+which composed it?&nbsp; Out of my own mind, unquestionably; but how
+did it come there - was it the indigenous growth of the mind?&nbsp;
+And then I would sit down and ponder over the various scenes and adventures
+in my book, endeavouring to ascertain how I came originally to devise
+them, and by dint of reflecting I remembered that to a single word in
+conversation, or some simple accident in a street or on a road, I was
+indebted for some of the happiest portions of my work; they were but
+tiny seeds, it is true, which in the soil of my imagination had subsequently
+become stately trees, but I reflected that without them no stately trees
+would have been produced, and that, consequently, only a part in the
+merit of these compositions which charmed the world - for the did charm
+the world - was due to myself.&nbsp; Thus, a dead fly was in my phial,
+poisoning all the pleasure which I should otherwise have derived from
+the result of my brain-sweat.&nbsp; &ldquo;How hard!&rdquo; I would
+exclaim, looking up to the sky, &ldquo;how hard!&nbsp; I am like Virgil&rsquo;s
+sheep, bearing fleeces not for themselves.&rdquo;&nbsp; But, not to
+tire you, it fared with my second work as it did with my first; I flung
+it aside, and, in order to forget it, I began a third, on which I am
+now occupied; but the difficulty of writing it is immense, my extreme
+desire to be original sadly cramping the powers of my mind; my fastidiousness
+being so great that I invariably reject whatever ideas I do not think
+to be legitimately my own.&nbsp; But there is one circumstance to which
+I cannot help alluding here, as it serves to show what miseries this
+love of originality must needs bring upon an author.&nbsp; I am constantly
+discovering that, however original I may wish to be, I am continually
+producing the same things which other people say or write.&nbsp; Whenever,
+after producing something which gives me perfect satisfaction, and which
+has cost me perhaps days and nights of brooding, I chance to take up
+a book for the sake of a little relaxation, a book which I never saw
+before, I am sure to find in it something more or less resembling some
+part of what I have been just composing.&nbsp; You will easily conceive
+the distress which then comes over me; &rsquo;tis then that I am almost
+tempted to execrate the chance which, by discovering my latent powers,
+induced me to adopt a profession of such anxiety and misery.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;For some time past I have given up reading almost entirely, owing
+to the dread which I entertain of lighting upon something similar to
+what I myself have written.&nbsp; I scarcely ever transgress without
+having almost instant reason to repent.&nbsp; To-day, when I took up
+the newspaper, I saw in a speech of the Duke of Rhododendron, at an
+agricultural dinner, the very same ideas, and almost the same expressions
+which I had put into the mouth of an imaginary personage of mine, on
+a widely different occasion; you saw how I dashed the newspaper down
+- you saw how I touched the floor; the touch was to baffle the evil
+chance, to prevent the critics detecting any similarity between the
+speech of the Duke of Rhododendron at the agricultural dinner and the
+speech of my personage.&nbsp; My sensibility on the subject of my writings
+is so great that sometimes a chance word is sufficient to unman me,
+I apply it to them in a superstitious sense; for example, when you said
+some time ago that the dark hour was coming on, I applied it to my works
+- it appeared to bode them evil fortune; you saw how I touched, it was
+to baffle the evil chance; but I do not confine myself to touching when
+the fear of the evil chance is upon me.&nbsp; To baffle it I occasionally
+perform actions which must appear highly incomprehensible; I have been
+known, when riding in company with other people, to leave the direct
+road, and make a long circuit by a miry lane to the place to which we
+were going.&nbsp; I have also been seen attempting to ride across a
+morass, where I had no business whatever, and in which my horse finally
+sank up to its saddle-girths, and was only extricated by the help of
+a multitude of hands.&nbsp; I have, of course, frequently been asked
+the reason of such conduct, to which I have invariably returned no answer,
+for I scorn duplicity; whereupon people have looked mysteriously, and
+sometimes put their fingers to their foreheads.&nbsp; &ldquo;And yet
+it can&rsquo;t be,&rdquo; I once heard an old gentleman say; &ldquo;don&rsquo;t
+we know what he is capable of?&rdquo; and the old man was right; I merely
+did these things to avoid the evil chance, impelled by the strange feeling
+within me; and this evil chance is invariably connected with my writings,
+the only things at present which render life valuable to me.&nbsp; If
+I touch various objects, and ride into miry places, it is to baffle
+any mischance befalling me as an author, to prevent my books getting
+into disrepute; in nine cases out of ten to prevent any expressions,
+thoughts, or situations in any work which I am writing from resembling
+the thoughts, expressions, and situations of other authors, for my great
+wish, as I told you before, is to be original.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have now related my history, and have revealed to you the secrets
+of my inmost bosom.&nbsp; I should certainly not have spoken so unreservedly
+as I have done, had I not discovered in you a kindred spirit.&nbsp;
+I have long wished for an opportunity of discoursing on the point which
+forms the peculiar feature of my history with a being who could understand
+me; and truly it was a lucky chance which brought you to these parts;
+you who seem to be acquainted with all things strange and singular,
+and who are as well acquainted with the subject of the magic touch as
+with all that relates to the star Jupiter or the mysterious tree at
+Upsal.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Such was the story which my host related to me in the library, amidst
+the darkness, occasionally broken by flashes of lightning.&nbsp; Both
+of us remained silent for some time after it was concluded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is a singular story,&rsquo; said I, at last, &lsquo;though
+I confess that I was prepared for some part of it.&nbsp; Will you permit
+me to ask you a question?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Certainly,&rsquo; said my host.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did you never speak in public?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And when you made this speech of yours in the dining-room, commencing
+with Mr. Speaker, no one was present?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;None in the world, I double-locked the door; what do you mean?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;An idea came into my head - dear me how the rain is pouring -
+but, with respect to your present troubles and anxieties, would it not
+be wise, seeing that authorship causes you so much trouble and anxiety,
+to give it up altogether?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Were you an author yourself,&rsquo; replied my host, &lsquo;you
+would not talk in this manner; once an author, ever an author - besides,
+what could I do? return to my former state of vegetation? no, much as
+I endure, I do not wish that; besides, every now and then my reason
+tells me that these troubles and anxieties of mine are utterly without;
+foundation that whatever I write is the legitimate growth of my own
+mind, and that it is the height of folly to afflict myself at any chance
+resemblance between my own thoughts and those of other writers, such
+resemblance being inevitable from the fact of our common human origin.&nbsp;
+In short - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I understand you,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;notwithstanding your
+troubles and anxieties you find life very tolerable; has your originality
+ever been called in question?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;On the contrary, every one declares that originality constitutes
+the most remarkable feature of my writings; the man has some faults,
+they say, but want of originality is certainly not one of them.&nbsp;
+He is quite different from others - a certain newspaper, it is true,
+the - I think, once insinuated that in a certain work of mine I had
+taken a hint or two from the writings of a couple of authors which it
+mentioned; it happened, however, that I had never even read one syllable
+of the writings of either, and of one of them had never even heard the
+name; so much for the discrimination of the -.&nbsp; By the bye, what
+a rascally newspaper that is!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A very rascally newspaper,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXVII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Disturbed slumbers - The bed-post - Two wizards - What can I do? - Real
+library - The Rev. Mr. Platitude - Toleration to Dissenters - Paradox
+- Sword of St. Peter - Enemy to humbug - High principles - False concord
+- The damsel - What religion? - Further conversation - That would never
+do! - May you prosper.<br>
+<br>
+During the greater part of that night my slumbers were disturbed by
+strange dreams.&nbsp; Amongst other things, I fancied that I was my
+host; my head appeared to be teeming with wild thoughts and imaginations,
+out of which I was endeavouring to frame a book.&nbsp; And now the book
+was finished and given to the world, and the world shouted; and all
+eyes were turned upon me, and I shrank from the eyes of the world.&nbsp;
+And, when I got into retired places, I touched various objects in order
+to baffle the evil chance.&nbsp; In short, during the whole night, I
+was acting over the story which I had heard before I went to bed.<br>
+<br>
+At about eight o&rsquo;clock I awoke.&nbsp; The storm had long since
+passed away, and the morning was bright and shining; my couch was so
+soft and luxurious that I felt loth to quit it, so I lay some time,
+my eyes wandering about the magnificent room to which fortune had conducted
+me in so singular a manner; at last I heaved a sigh; I was thinking
+of my own homeless condition, and imagining where I should find myself
+on the following morning.&nbsp; Unwilling, however, to indulge in melancholy
+thoughts, I sprang out of bed and proceeded to dress myself, and, whilst
+dressing, I felt an irresistible inclination to touch the bed-post.<br>
+<br>
+I finished dressing and left the room, feeling compelled, however, as
+I left it, to touch the lintel of the door.&nbsp; Is it possible, thought
+I, that from what I have lately heard the long-forgotten influence should
+have possessed me again? but I will not give way to it; so I hurried
+downstairs, resisting as I went a certain inclination which I occasionally
+felt to touch the rail of the banister.&nbsp; I was presently upon the
+gravel walk before the house: it was indeed a glorious morning.&nbsp;
+I stood for some time observing the golden fish disporting in the waters
+of the pond, and then strolled about amongst the noble trees of the
+park; the beauty and freshness of the morning - for the air had been
+considerably cooled by the late storm - soon enabled me to cast away
+the gloomy ideas which had previously taken possession of my mind, and,
+after a stroll of about half an hour, I returned towards the house in
+high spirits.&nbsp; It is true that once I felt very much inclined to
+go and touch the leaves of a flowery shrub which I saw at some distance,
+and had even moved two or three paces towards it; but, bethinking myself,
+I manfully resisted the temptation.&nbsp; &lsquo;Begone!&rsquo; I exclaimed,
+&lsquo;ye sorceries, in which I formerly trusted - begone for ever vagaries
+which I had almost forgotten; good luck is not to be obtained, or bad
+averted, by magic touches; besides, two wizards in one parish would
+be too much, in all conscience.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I returned to the house, and entered the library; breakfast was laid
+on the table, and my friend was standing before the portrait which I
+have already said hung above the mantelpiece; so intently was he occupied
+in gazing at it that he did not hear me enter, nor was aware of my presence
+till I advanced close to him and spoke, when he turned round and shook
+me by the hand.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What can possibly have induced you to hang up that portrait in
+your library? it is a staring likeness, it is true, but it appears to
+me a wretched daub.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Daub as you call it,&rsquo; said my friend, smiling, &lsquo;I
+would not part with it for the best piece of Rafael.&nbsp; For many
+a happy thought I am indebted to that picture - it is my principal source
+of inspiration; when my imagination flags, as of course it occasionally
+does, I stare upon those features, and forthwith strange ideas of fun
+and drollery begin to flow into my mind; these I round, amplify, or
+combine into goodly creations, and bring forth as I find an opportunity.&nbsp;
+It is true that I am occasionally tormented by the thought that, by
+doing this, I am committing plagiarism; though, in that case, all thoughts
+must be plagiarisms, all that we think being the result of what we hear,
+see, or feel.&nbsp; What can I do?&nbsp; I must derive my thoughts from
+some source or other; and, after all, it is better to plagiarise from
+the features of my landlord than from the works of Butler and Cervantes.&nbsp;
+My works, as you are aware, are of a serio-comic character.&nbsp; My
+neighbours are of opinion that I am a great reader, and so I am, but
+only of those features - my real library is that picture.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But how did you obtain it?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Some years ago a travelling painter came into this neighbourhood,
+and my jolly host, at the request of his wife, consented to sit for
+his portrait; she highly admired the picture, but she soon died, and
+then my fat friend, who is of an affectionate disposition, said he could
+not bear the sight of it, as it put him in mind of his poor wife.&nbsp;
+I purchased it of him for five pounds - I would not take five thousand
+for it; when you called that picture a daub, you did not see all the
+poetry of it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+We sat down to breakfast; my entertainer appeared to be in much better
+spirits than on the preceding day; I did not observe him touch once;
+ere breakfast was over a servant entered - &lsquo;The Reverend Mr. Platitude,
+sir,&rsquo; said he.<br>
+<br>
+A shade of dissatisfaction came over the countenance of my host.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;What does the silly pestilent fellow mean by coming here?&rsquo;
+said he, half to himself; &lsquo;let him come in,&rsquo; said he to
+the servant.<br>
+<br>
+The servant went out, and in a moment reappeared, introducing the Reverend
+Mr. Platitude.&nbsp; The Reverend Mr. Platitude, having what is vulgarly
+called a game leg, came shambling into the room; he was about thirty
+years of age, and about five feet three inches high; his face was of
+the colour of pepper, and nearly as rugged as a nutmeg-grater; his hair
+was black; with his eyes he squinted, and grinned with his lips, which
+were very much apart, disclosing two very irregular rows of teeth; he
+was dressed in the true Levitical fashion, in a suit of spotless black,
+and a neckerchief of spotless white.<br>
+<br>
+The Reverend Mr. Platitude advanced winking and grinning to my entertainer,
+who received him politely but with evident coldness; nothing daunted,
+however, the Reverend Mr. Platitude took a seat by the table, and, being
+asked to take a cup of coffee, winked, grinned, and consented.<br>
+<br>
+In company I am occasionally subject to fits of what is generally called
+absence; my mind takes flight and returns to former scenes, or presses
+forward into the future.&nbsp; One of these fits of absence came over
+me at this time - I looked at the Reverend Mr. Platitude for a moment,
+heard a word or two that proceeded from his mouth, and saying to myself,
+&lsquo;You are no man for me,&rsquo; fell into a fit of musing - into
+the same train of thought as in the morning, no very pleasant one -
+I was thinking of the future.<br>
+<br>
+I continued in my reverie for some time, and probably should have continued
+longer, had I not been suddenly aroused by the voice of Mr. Platitude
+raised to a very high key.&nbsp; &lsquo;Yes, my dear sir,&rsquo; said
+he, &lsquo;it is but too true; I have it on good authority - a gone
+church - a lost church - a ruined church - a demolished church is the
+Church of England.&nbsp; Toleration to Dissenters! - oh, monstrous!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I suppose,&rsquo; said my host, &lsquo;that the repeal of the
+Test Acts will be merely a precursor of the emancipation of the Papists?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Of the Catholics,&rsquo; said the Reverend Mr. Platitude.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Ahem.&nbsp; There was a time, as I believe you are aware, my
+dear sir, when I was as much opposed to the emancipation of the Catholics
+as it was possible for any one to be; but I was prejudiced, my dear
+sir, labouring under a cloud of most unfortunate prejudice; but I thank
+my Maker I am so no longer.&nbsp; I have travelled, as you are aware.&nbsp;
+It is only by travelling that one can rub off prejudices; I think you
+will agree with me there.&nbsp; I am speaking to a traveller.&nbsp;
+I left behind all my prejudices in Italy.&nbsp; The Catholics are at
+least our fellow-Christians.&nbsp; I thank Heaven that I am no longer
+an enemy to Catholic emancipation.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And yet you would not tolerate Dissenters?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dissenters, my dear sir; I hope you would not class such a set
+as the Dissenters with Catholics?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Perhaps it would be unjust,&rsquo; said my host, &lsquo;though
+to which of the two parties is another thing; but permit me to ask you
+a question: Does it not smack somewhat of paradox to talk of Catholics,
+whilst you admit there are Dissenters?&nbsp; If there are Dissenters,
+how should there be Catholics?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is not my fault that there are Dissenters,&rsquo; said the
+Reverend Mr. Platitude; &lsquo;if I had my will I would neither admit
+there were any, nor permit any to be.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Of course you would admit there were such as long as they existed;
+but how would you get rid of them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I would have the Church exert its authority.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you mean by exerting its authority?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I would not have the Church bear the sword in vain.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What, the sword of St. Peter?&nbsp; You remember what the founder
+of the religion which you profess said about the sword, &ldquo;He who
+striketh with it . . . &rdquo;&nbsp; I think those who have called themselves
+the Church have had enough of the sword.&nbsp; Two can play with the
+sword, Mr. Platitude.&nbsp; The Church of Rome tried the sword with
+the Lutherans: how did it fare with the Church of Rome?&nbsp; The Church
+of England tried the sword, Mr. Platitude, with the Puritans: how did
+it fare with Laud and Charles?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, as for the Church of England,&rsquo; said Mr. Platitude,
+&lsquo;I have little to say.&nbsp; Thank God, I left all my Church of
+England prejudices in Italy.&nbsp; Had the Church of England known its
+true interests, it would long ago have sought a reconciliation with
+its illustrious mother.&nbsp; If the Church of England had not been
+in some degree a schismatic church, it would not have fared so ill at
+the time of which you are speaking; the rest of the Church would have
+come to its assistance.&nbsp; The Irish would have helped it, so would
+the French, so would the Portuguese.&nbsp; Disunion has always been
+the bane of the Church.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Once more I fell into a reverie.&nbsp; My mind now reverted to the past;
+methought I was in a small comfortable room wainscoted with oak; I was
+seated on one side of a fireplace, close by a table on which were wine
+and fruit; on the other side of the fire sat a man in a plain suit of
+brown, with the hair combed back from his somewhat high forehead; he
+had a pipe in his mouth, which for some time he smoked gravely and placidly,
+without saying a word; at length, after drawing at the pipe for some
+time rather vigorously, he removed it from his mouth, and, emitting
+an accumulated cloud of smoke, he exclaimed in a slow and measured tone,
+&lsquo;As I was telling you just now, my good chap, I have always been
+an enemy to humbug.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+When I awoke from my reverie the Reverend Mr. Platitude was quitting
+the apartment.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is that person?&rsquo; said I to my entertainer, as the door
+closed behind him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is he?&rsquo; said my host; &lsquo;why, the Reverend Mr.
+Platitude.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Does he reside in this neighbourhood?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He holds a living about three miles from here; his history, as
+far as I am acquainted with it, is as follows.&nbsp; His father was
+a respectable tanner in the neighbouring town, who, wishing to make
+his son a gentleman, sent him to college.&nbsp; Having never been at
+college myself, I cannot say whether he took the wisest course; I believe
+it is more easy to unmake than to make a gentleman; I have known many
+gentlemanly youths go to college, and return anything but what they
+went.&nbsp; Young Mr. Platitude did not go to college a gentleman, but
+neither did he return one: he went to college an ass, and returned a
+prig; to his original folly was superadded a vast quantity of conceit.&nbsp;
+He told his father that he had adopted high principles, and was determined
+to discountenance everything low and mean; advised him to eschew trade,
+and to purchase him a living.&nbsp; The old man retired from business,
+purchased his son a living, and shortly after died, leaving him what
+remained of his fortune.&nbsp; The first thing the Reverend Mr. Platitude
+did, after his father&rsquo;s decease, was to send his mother and sister
+into Wales to live upon a small annuity, assigning as a reason that
+he was averse to anything low, and that they talked ungrammatically.&nbsp;
+Wishing to shine in the pulpit, he now preached high sermons, as he
+called them, interspersed with scraps of learning.&nbsp; His sermons
+did not, however, procure him much popularity; on the contrary, his
+church soon became nearly deserted, the greater part of his flock going
+over to certain dissenting preachers, who had shortly before made their
+appearance in the neighbourhood.&nbsp; Mr. Platitude was filled with
+wrath, and abused Dissenters in most unmeasured terms.&nbsp; Coming
+in contact with some of the preachers at a public meeting, he was rash
+enough to enter into argument with them.&nbsp; Poor Platitude! he had
+better have been quiet, he appeared like a child, a very infant, in
+their grasp; he attempted to take shelter under his college learning,
+but found, to his dismay, that his opponents knew more Greek and Latin
+than himself.&nbsp; These illiterate boors, as he had supposed them,
+caught him at once in a false concord, and Mr. Platitude had to slink
+home overwhelmed with shame.&nbsp; To avenge himself he applied to the
+ecclesiastical court, but was told that the Dissenters could not be
+put down by the present ecclesiastical law.&nbsp; He found the Church
+of England, to use his own expression, a poor, powerless, restricted
+Church.&nbsp; He now thought to improve his consequence by marriage,
+and made up to a rich and beautiful young lady in the neighbourhood;
+the damsel measured him from head to foot with a pair of very sharp
+eyes, dropped a curtsey, and refused him.&nbsp; Mr. Platitude, finding
+England a very stupid place, determined to travel; he went to Italy;
+how he passed his time there he knows best, to other people it is a
+matter of little importance.&nbsp; At the end of two years he returned
+with a real or assumed contempt for everything English, and especially
+for the Church to which he belongs, and out of which he is supported.&nbsp;
+He forthwith gave out that he had left behind him all his Church of
+England prejudices, and, as a proof thereof, spoke against sacerdotal
+wedlock and the toleration of schismatics.&nbsp; In an evil hour for
+myself he was introduced to me by a clergyman of my acquaintance, and
+from that time I have been pestered, as I was this morning, at least
+once a week.&nbsp; I seldom enter into any discussion with him, but
+fix my eyes on the portrait over the mantelpiece, and endeavour to conjure
+up some comic idea or situation, whilst he goes on talking tomfoolery
+by the hour about Church authority, schismatics, and the unlawfulness
+of sacerdotal wedlock; occasionally he brings with him a strange kind
+of being, whose acquaintance he says he made in Italy; I believe he
+is some sharking priest who has come over to proselytise and plunder.&nbsp;
+This being has some powers of conversation and some learning, but carries
+the countenance of an arch villain; Platitude is evidently his tool.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Of what religion are you?&rsquo; said I to my host.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That of the Vicar of Wakefield - good, quiet, Church of England,
+which would live and let live, practises charity, and rails at no one;
+where the priest is the husband of one wife, takes care of his family
+and his parish - such is the religion for me, though I confess I have
+hitherto thought too little of religious matters.&nbsp; When, however,
+I have completed this plaguy work on which I am engaged, I hope to be
+able to devote more attention to them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+After some further conversation, the subjects being, if I remember right,
+college education, priggism, church authority, tomfoolery, and the like,
+I rose and said to my host, &lsquo;I must now leave you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Whither are you going?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not know.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Stay here, then - you shall be welcome as many days, months,
+and years as you please to stay.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you think I would hang upon another man?&nbsp; No, not if
+he were Emperor of all the Chinas.&nbsp; I will now make my preparations,
+and then bid you farewell.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I retired to my apartment and collected the handful of things which
+I carried with me on my travels.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will walk a little way with you,&rsquo; said my friend on my
+return.<br>
+<br>
+He walked with me to the park gate; neither of us said anything by the
+way.&nbsp; When we had come upon the road, I said, &lsquo;Farewell now;
+I will not permit you to give yourself any further trouble on my account.&nbsp;
+Receive my best thanks for your kindness; before we part, however, I
+should wish to ask you a question.&nbsp; Do you think you shall ever
+grow tired of authorship?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have my fears,&rsquo; said my friend, advancing his hand to
+one of the iron bars of the gate.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t touch,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;it is a bad habit.&nbsp;
+I have but one word to add: should you ever grow tired of authorship
+follow your first idea of getting into Parliament; you have words enough
+at command; perhaps you want manner and method; but, in that case, you
+must apply to a teacher, you must take lessons of a master of elocution.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That would never do!&rsquo; said my host; &lsquo;I know myself
+too well to think of applying for assistance to any one.&nbsp; Were
+I to become a parliamentary orator, I should wish to be an original
+one, even if not above mediocrity.&nbsp; What pleasure should I take
+in any speech I might make, however original as to thought, provided
+the gestures I employed and the very modulation of my voice were not
+my own?&nbsp; Take lessons, indeed! why, the fellow who taught me, the
+professor, might be standing in the gallery whilst I spoke; and, at
+the best parts of my speech, might say to himself, &ldquo;That gesture
+is mine - that modulation is mine.&rdquo;&nbsp; I could not bear the
+thought of such a thing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Farewell,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and may you prosper.&nbsp; I
+have nothing more to say.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I departed.&nbsp; At the distance of twenty yards I turned round suddenly;
+my friend was just withdrawing his finger from the bar of the gate.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He has been touching,&rsquo; said I, as I proceeded on my way;
+&lsquo;I wonder what was the evil chance he wished to baffle.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXVIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Elastic step - Disconsolate party - Not the season - Mend your draught
+- Good ale - Crotchet - Hammer and tongs - Schoolmaster - True Eden
+life - Flaming Tinman - Twice my size - Hard at work - My poor wife
+- Grey Moll - A Bible - Half-and-half - What to do - Half inclined -
+In no time - On one condition - Don&rsquo;t stare - Like the wind.<br>
+<br>
+After walking some time, I found myself on the great road, at the same
+spot where I had turned aside the day before with my new-made acquaintance,
+in the direction of his house.&nbsp; I now continued my journey as before,
+towards the north.&nbsp; The weather, though beautiful, was much cooler
+than it had been for some time past; I walked at a great rate, with
+a springing and elastic step.&nbsp; In about two hours I came to where
+a kind of cottage stood a little way back from the road, with a huge
+oak before it, under the shade of which stood a little pony and a cart,
+which seemed to contain various articles.&nbsp; I was going past - when
+I saw scrawled over the door of the cottage, &lsquo;Good beer sold here&rsquo;;
+upon which, feeling myself all of a sudden very thirsty, I determined
+to go in and taste the beverage.<br>
+<br>
+I entered a well-sanded kitchen, and seated myself on a bench, on one
+side of a long white table; the other side, which was nearest to the
+wall, was occupied by a party, or rather family, consisting of a grimy-looking
+man, somewhat under the middle size, dressed in faded velveteens, and
+wearing a leather apron - a rather pretty-looking woman, but sun-burnt,
+and meanly dressed, and two ragged children, a boy and girl, about four
+or five years old.&nbsp; The man sat with his eyes fixed upon the table,
+supporting his chin with both his hands; the woman, who was next him,
+sat quite still, save that occasionally she turned a glance upon her
+husband with eyes that appeared to have been lately crying.&nbsp; The
+children had none of the vivacity so general at their age.&nbsp; A more
+disconsolate family I had never seen; a mug, which, when filled, might
+contain half a pint, stood empty before them; a very disconsolate party
+indeed.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;House!&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;House!&rsquo; and then, as nobody
+appeared, I cried again as loud as I could, &lsquo;House! do you hear
+me, House!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s your pleasure, young man?&rsquo; said an elderly
+woman, who now made her appearance from a side apartment.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To taste your ale,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How much?&rsquo; said the woman, stretching out her hand towards
+the empty mug upon the table.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The largest measure-full in your house,&rsquo; said I, putting
+back her hand gently.&nbsp; &lsquo;This is not the season for half-pint
+mugs.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As you will, young man,&rsquo; said the landlady; and presently
+brought in an earthen pitcher which might contain about three pints,
+and which foamed and frothed withal.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Will this pay for it?&rsquo; said I, putting down sixpence.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have to return you a penny,&rsquo; said the landlady, putting
+her hand into her pocket.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I want no change,&rsquo; said I, flourishing my hand with an
+air.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As you please, young gentleman,&rsquo; said the landlady, and
+then, making a kind of curtsey, she again retired to the side apartment.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Here is your health, sir,&rsquo; said I to the grimy-looking
+man, as I raised the pitcher to my lips.<br>
+<br>
+The tinker, for such I supposed him to be, without altering his posture,
+raised his eyes, looked at me for a moment, gave a slight nod, and then
+once more fixed his eyes upon the table.&nbsp; I took a draught of the
+ale, which I found excellent; &lsquo;Won&rsquo;t you drink?&rsquo; said
+I, holding the pitcher to the tinker.<br>
+<br>
+The man again lifted up his eyes, looked at me, and then at the pitcher,
+and then at me again.&nbsp; I thought at one time that he was about
+to shake his head in sign of refusal; but no, he looked once more at
+the pitcher, and the temptation was too strong.&nbsp; Slowly removing
+his head from his arms, he took the pitcher, sighed, nodded, and drank
+a tolerable quantity, and then set the pitcher down before me upon the
+table.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You had better mend your draught,&rsquo; said I to the tinker;
+&lsquo;it is a sad heart that never rejoices.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s true,&rsquo; said the tinker, and again raising
+the pitcher to his lips, he mended his draught as I had bidden him,
+drinking a larger quantity than before.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pass it to your wife,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+The poor woman took the pitcher from the man&rsquo;s hand; before, however,
+raising it to her lips, she looked at the children.&nbsp; True mother&rsquo;s
+heart, thought I to myself, and taking the half-pint mug, I made her
+fill it, and then held it to the children, causing each to take a draught.&nbsp;
+The woman wiped her eyes with the corner of her gown, before she raised
+the pitcher and drank to my health.<br>
+<br>
+In about five minutes none of the family looked half so disconsolate
+as before, and the tinker and I were in deep discourse.<br>
+<br>
+Oh, genial and gladdening is the power of good ale, the true and proper
+drink of Englishmen.&nbsp; He is not deserving of the name of Englishman
+who speaketh against ale, that is good ale, like that which has just
+made merry the hearts of this poor family; and yet there are beings,
+calling themselves Englishmen, who say that it is a sin to drink a cup
+of ale, and who, on coming to this passage will be tempted to fling
+down the book and exclaim, &lsquo;The man is evidently a bad man, for
+behold, by his own confession, he is not only fond of ale himself, but
+is in the habit of tempting other people with it.&rsquo;&nbsp; Alas!
+alas! what a number of silly individuals there are in this world; I
+wonder what they would have had me do in this instance - given the afflicted
+family a cup of cold water? go to!&nbsp; They could have found water
+in the road, for there was a pellucid spring only a few yards distant
+from the house, as they were well aware - but they wanted not water;
+what should I have given them? meat and bread? go to!&nbsp; They were
+not hungry; there was stifled sobbing in their bosoms, and the first
+mouthful of strong meat would have choked them.&nbsp; What should I
+have given them?&nbsp; Money! what right had I to insult them by offering
+them money?&nbsp; Advice! words, words, words; friends, there is a time
+for everything; there is a time for a cup of cold water; there is a
+time for strong meat and bread; there is a time for advice, and there
+is a time for ale; and I have generally found that the time for advice
+is after a cup of ale.&nbsp; I do not say many cups; the tongue then
+speaketh more smoothly, and the ear listeneth more benignantly; but
+why do I attempt to reason with you? do I not know you for conceited
+creatures, with one idea - and that a foolish one; - a crotchet, for
+the sake of which ye would sacrifice anything, religion if required
+- country?&nbsp; There, fling down my book, I do not wish ye to walk
+any farther in my company, unless you cast your nonsense away, which
+ye will never do, for it is the breath of your nostrils; fling down
+my book, it was not written to support a crotchet, for know one thing,
+my good people, I have invariably been an enemy to humbug.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the tinker, after we had discoursed some time,
+&lsquo;little thought, when I first saw you, that you were of my own
+trade.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Nor am I, at least not exactly.&nbsp; There is
+not much difference, &rsquo;tis true, between a tinker and a smith.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; You are a whitesmith then?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Not I, I&rsquo;d scorn to be anything so mean;
+no, friend, black&rsquo;s the colour; I am a brother of the horse-shoe.&nbsp;
+Success to the hammer and tongs.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; Well, I shouldn&rsquo;t have thought you had been
+a blacksmith by your hands.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; I have seen them, however, as black as yours.&nbsp;
+The truth is, I have not worked for many a day.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; Where did you serve first?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; In Ireland.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>. That&rsquo;s a good way off, isn&rsquo;t it?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Not very far; over those mountains to the left,
+and the run of salt water that lies behind them, there&rsquo;s Ireland.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; It&rsquo;s a fine thing to be a scholar.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Not half so fine as to be a tinker.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; How you talk!<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Nothing but the truth; what can be better than
+to be one&rsquo;s own master?&nbsp; Now a tinker is his own master,
+a scholar is not.&nbsp; Let us suppose the best of scholars, a schoolmaster
+for example, for I suppose you will admit that no one can be higher
+in scholarship than a schoolmaster; do you call his a pleasant life?&nbsp;
+I don&rsquo;t; we should call him a school-slave, rather than a schoolmaster.&nbsp;
+Only conceive him in blessed weather like this, in his close school,
+teaching children to write in copy-books, &lsquo;Evil communication
+corrupts good manners,&rsquo; or &lsquo;You cannot touch pitch without
+defilement,&rsquo; or to spell out of Abedariums, or to read out of
+Jack Smith, or Sandford and Merton.&nbsp; Only conceive him, I say,
+drudging in such guise from morning till night, without any rational
+enjoyment but to beat the children.&nbsp; Would you compare such a dog&rsquo;s
+life as that with your own - the happiest under heaven - true Eden life,
+as the Germans would say, - pitching your tent under the pleasant hedgerows,
+listening to the song of the feathered tribes, collecting all the leaky
+kettles in the neighbourhood, soldering and joining, earning your honest
+bread by the wholesome sweat of your brow - making ten holes - hey,
+what&rsquo;s this? what&rsquo;s the man crying for?<br>
+<br>
+Suddenly the tinker had covered his face with his hands, and begun to
+sob and moan like a man in the deepest distress; the breast of his wife
+was heaved with emotion; even the children were agitated, the youngest
+began to roar.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; What&rsquo;s the matter with you; what are you
+all crying about?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i> (uncovering his face).&nbsp; Lord, why to hear you talk;
+isn&rsquo;t that enough to make anybody cry - even the poor babes?&nbsp;
+Yes, you said right, &rsquo;tis life in the garden of Eden - the tinker&rsquo;s;
+I see so now that I&rsquo;m about to give it up.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Give it up! you must not think of such a thing.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; No, I can&rsquo;t bear to think of it, and yet
+I must; what&rsquo;s to be done?&nbsp; How hard to be frightened to
+death, to be driven off the roads.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Who has driven you off the roads?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; Who! the Flaming Tinman.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Who is he?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; The biggest rogue in England, and the cruellest,
+or he wouldn&rsquo;t have served me as he has done - I&rsquo;ll tell
+you all about it.&nbsp; I was born upon the roads, and so was my father
+before me, and my mother too; and I worked with them as long as they
+lived, as a dutiful child, for I have nothing to reproach myself with
+on their account; and when my father died I took up the business, and
+went his beat, and supported my mother for the little time she lived;
+and when she died I married this young woman, who was not born upon
+the roads, but was a small tradesman&rsquo;s daughter, at Gloster.&nbsp;
+She had a kindness for me, and, notwithstanding her friends were against
+the match, she married the poor tinker, and came to live with him upon
+the roads.&nbsp; Well, young man, for six or seven years I - as the
+happiest fellow breathing, living just the life you described just now
+- respected by everybody in this beat; when in an evil hour comes this
+Black Jack, this flaming tinman, into these parts, driven as they say
+out of Yorkshire - for no good you may be sure.&nbsp; Now there is no
+beat will support two tinkers, as you doubtless know; mine was a good
+one, but it would not support the flying tinker and myself, though if
+it would have supported twenty it would have been all the same to the
+flying villain, who&rsquo;ll brook no one but himself; so he presently
+finds me out, and offers to fight me for the beat.&nbsp; Now, being
+bred upon the roads, I can fight a little, that is with anything like
+my match, but I was not going to fight him, who happens to be twice
+my size, and so I told him; whereupon he knocks me down, and would have
+done me farther mischief had not some men been nigh and prevented him;
+so he threatened to cut my throat, and went his way.&nbsp; Well, I did
+not like such usage at all, and was woundily frightened, and tried to
+keep as much out of his way as possible, going anywhere but where I
+thought I was likely to meet him; and sure enough for several months
+I contrived to keep out of his way.&nbsp; At last somebody told me that
+he was gone back to Yorkshire, whereupon I was glad at heart, and ventured
+to show myself, going here and there as I did before.&nbsp; Well, young
+man, it was yesterday that I and mine set ourselves down in a lane,
+about five miles from here, and lighted our fire, and had our dinner,
+and after dinner I sat down to mend three kettles and a frying pan which
+the people in the neighbourhood had given me to mend - for, as I told
+you before, I have a good connection, owing to my honesty.&nbsp; Well,
+as I sat there hard at work, happy as the day&rsquo;s long, and thinking
+of anything but what was to happen, who should come up but this Black
+Jack, this king of the tinkers, rattling along in his cart, with his
+wife, that they call Grey Moll, by his side - for the villain has got
+a wife, and a maid-servant too; the last I never saw, but they that
+has, says that she is as big as a house, and young, and well to look
+at, which can&rsquo;t be all said of Moll, who, though she&rsquo;s big
+enough in all conscience, is neither young nor handsome.&nbsp; Well,
+no sooner does he see me and mine, than, giving the reins to Grey Moll,
+he springs out of his cart, and comes straight at me; not a word did
+he say, but on he comes straight at me like a wild bull.&nbsp; I am
+a quiet man, young fellow, but I saw now that quietness would be of
+no use, so I sprang up upon my legs, and being bred upon the roads,
+and able to fight a little, I squared as he came running in upon me,
+and had a round or two with him.&nbsp; Lord bless you, young man, it
+was like a fly fighting with an elephant - one of those big beasts the
+show-folks carry about.&nbsp; I had not a chance with the fellow, he
+knocked me here, he knocked me there, knocked me into the hedge, and
+knocked me out again.&nbsp; I was at my last shifts, and my poor wife
+saw it.&nbsp; Now my poor wife, though she is as gentle as a pigeon,
+has yet a spirit of her own, and though she wasn&rsquo;t bred upon the
+roads, can scratch a little; so when she saw me at my last shifts, she
+flew at the villain - she couldn&rsquo;t bear to see her partner murdered
+- and scratched the villain&rsquo;s face.&nbsp; Lord bless you, young
+man, she had better have been quiet: Grey Moll no sooner saw what she
+was about, than, springing out of the cart, where she had sat all along
+perfectly quiet, save a little whooping and screeching to encourage
+her blade:- Grey Moll, I say (my flesh creeps when I think of it - for
+I am a kind husband, and love my poor wife) . . .<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Take another draught of the ale; you look frightened,
+and it will do you good.&nbsp; Stout liquor makes stout heart, as the
+man says in the play.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; That&rsquo;s true, young man; here&rsquo;s to you
+- where was I?&nbsp; Grey Moll no sooner saw what my wife was about,
+than, springing out of the cart, she flew at my poor wife, clawed off
+her bonnet in a moment, and seized hold of her hair.&nbsp; Lord bless
+you, young man, my poor wife, in the hands of Grey Moll, was nothing
+better than a pigeon in the claws of a buzzard hawk, or I in the hands
+of the Flaming Tinman, which when I saw, my heart was fit to burst,
+and I determined to give up everything - everything to save my poor
+wife out of Grey Moll&rsquo;s claws.&nbsp; &lsquo;Hold!&rsquo; I shouted.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Hold, both of you - Jack, Moll.&nbsp; Hold, both of you, for
+God&rsquo;s sake, and I&rsquo;ll do what you will: give up trade, and
+business, connection, bread, and everything, never more travel the roads,
+and go down on my knees to you in the bargain.&rsquo;&nbsp; Well, this
+had some effect; Moll let go my wife, and the Blazing Tinman stopped
+for a moment; it was only for a moment, however, that he left off -
+all of a sudden he hit me a blow which sent me against a tree; and what
+did the villain then? why the flying villain seized me by the throat,
+and almost throttled me, roaring - what do you think, young man, that
+the flaming villain roared out?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; I really don&rsquo;t know - something horrible,
+I suppose.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; Horrible, indeed; you may well say horrible, young
+man; neither more nor less than the Bible - &lsquo;A Bible, a Bible!&rsquo;
+roared the Blazing Tinman; and he pressed my throat so hard against
+the tree that my senses began to dwaul away - a Bible, a Bible, still
+ringing in my ears.&nbsp; Now, young man, my poor wife is a Christian
+woman, and, though she travels the roads, carries a Bible with her at
+the bottom of her sack, with which sometimes she teaches the children
+to read - it was the only thing she brought with her from the place
+of her kith and kin, save her own body and the clothes on her back;
+so my poor wife, half distracted, runs to her sack, pulls out the Bible,
+and puts it into the hand of the Blazing Tinman, who then thrusts the
+end of it into my mouth with such fury that it made my lips bleed, and
+broke short one of my teeth which happened to be decayed.&nbsp; &lsquo;Swear,&rsquo;
+said he, &lsquo;swear, you mumping villain, take your Bible oath that
+you will quit and give up the beat altogether, or I&rsquo;ll - and then
+the hard-hearted villain made me swear by the Bible, and my own damnation,
+half-throttled as I was, to - to - I can&rsquo;t go on -<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Take another draught - stout liquor -<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; I can&rsquo;t, young man, my heart&rsquo;s too
+full, and what&rsquo;s more, the pitcher is empty.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; And so he swore you, I suppose, on the Bible, to
+quit the roads?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; You are right, he did so, the gypsy villain.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Gypsy!&nbsp; Is he a gypsy?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; Not exactly; what they call a half-and-half.&nbsp;
+His father was a gypsy, and his mother, like mine, one who walked the
+roads.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Is he of the Smiths - the Petulengres?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; I say, young man, you know a thing or two; one
+would think, to hear you talk, you had been bred upon the roads.&nbsp;
+I thought none but those bred upon the roads knew anything of that name
+- Petulengres!&nbsp; No, not he, he fights the Petulengres whenever
+he meets them; he likes nobody but himself, and wants to be king of
+the roads.&nbsp; I believe he is a Boss, or a - at any rate he&rsquo;s
+a bad one, as I know to my cost.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; And what are you going to do?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; Do! you may well ask that; I don&rsquo;t know what
+to do.&nbsp; My poor wife and I have been talking of that all the morning,
+over that half-pint mug of beer; we can&rsquo;t determine on what&rsquo;s
+to be done.&nbsp; All we know is, that we must quit the roads.&nbsp;
+The villain swore that the next time he saw us on the roads he&rsquo;d
+cut all our throats, and seize our horse and bit of a cart that are
+now standing out there under the tree.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; And what do you mean to do with your horse and
+cart?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; Another question!&nbsp; What shall we do with our
+cart and pony? they are of no use to us now.&nbsp; Stay on the roads
+I will not, both for my oath&rsquo;s sake and my own.&nbsp; If we had
+a trifle of money, we were thinking of going to Bristol, where I might
+get up a little business, but we have none; our last three farthings
+we spent about the mug of beer.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; But why don&rsquo;t you sell your horse and cart?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; Sell them! and who would buy them, unless some
+one who wished to set up in my line; but there&rsquo;s no beat, and
+what&rsquo;s the use of the horse and cart and the few tools without
+the beat?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; I&rsquo;m half inclined to buy your cart and pony,
+and your beat too.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; You!&nbsp; How came you to think of such a thing?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Why, like yourself, I hardly know what to do.&nbsp;
+I want a home and work.&nbsp; As for a home, I suppose I can contrive
+to make a home out of your tent and cart; and as for work, I must learn
+to be a tinker, it would not be hard for one of my trade to learn to
+tinker; what better can I do?&nbsp; Would you have me go to Chester
+and work there now?&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t like the thoughts of it.&nbsp;
+If I go to Chester and work there, I can&rsquo;t be my own man; I must
+work under a master, and perhaps he and I should quarrel, and when I
+quarrel I am apt to hit folks, and those that hit folks are sometimes
+sent to prison; I don&rsquo;t like the thought either of going to Chester
+or to Chester prison.&nbsp; What do you think I could earn at Chester?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; A matter of eleven shillings a week, if anybody
+would employ you, which I don&rsquo;t think they would with those hands
+of yours.&nbsp; But whether they would or not, if you are of a quarrelsome
+nature you must not go to Chester; you would be in the castle in no
+time.&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t know how to advise you.&nbsp; As for selling
+you my stock, I&rsquo;d see you farther first, for your own sake.<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Why?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Tinker</i>.&nbsp; Why! you would get your head knocked off.&nbsp;
+Suppose you were to meet him?<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Pooh, don&rsquo;t be afraid on my account; if I
+were to meet him I could easily manage him one way or other.&nbsp; I
+know all kinds of strange words and names, and, as I told you before,
+I sometimes hit people when they put me out.<br>
+<br>
+Here the tinker&rsquo;s wife, who for some minutes past had been listening
+attentively to our discourse, interposed, saying, in a low soft tone:
+&lsquo;I really don&rsquo;t see, John, why you shouldn&rsquo;t sell
+the young man the things, seeing that he wishes for them, and is so
+confident; you have told him plainly how matters stand, and if anything
+ill should befall him, people couldn&rsquo;t lay the blame on you; but
+I don&rsquo;t think any ill will befall him, and who knows but God has
+sent him to our assistance in time of need?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;ll hear of no such thing,&rsquo; said the tinker; &lsquo;I
+have drunk at the young man&rsquo;s expense, and though he says he&rsquo;s
+quarrelsome, I would not wish to sit in pleasanter company.&nbsp; A
+pretty fellow I should be, now, if I were to let him follow his own
+will.&nbsp; If he once sets up on my beat, he&rsquo;s a lost man, his
+ribs will be stove in, and his head knocked off his shoulders.&nbsp;
+There, you are crying, but you shan&rsquo;t have your will though; I
+won&rsquo;t be the young man&rsquo;s destruction . . . If, indeed, I
+thought he could manage the tinker - but he never can; he says he can
+hit, but it&rsquo;s no use hitting the tinker, - crying still! you are
+enough to drive one mad.&nbsp; I say, young man, I believe you understand
+a thing or two, just now you were talking of knowing hard words and
+names - I don&rsquo;t wish to send you to your mischief - you say you
+know hard words and names; let us see.&nbsp; Only on one condition I&rsquo;ll
+sell you the pony and things; as for the beat it&rsquo;s gone, isn&rsquo;t
+mine - sworn away by my own mouth.&nbsp; Tell me what&rsquo;s my name;
+if you can&rsquo;t, may I - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<i>Myself</i>.&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t swear, it&rsquo;s a bad habit, neither
+pleasant nor profitable.&nbsp; Your name is Slingsby - Jack Slingsby.&nbsp;
+There, don&rsquo;t stare, there&rsquo;s nothing in my telling you your
+name: I&rsquo;ve been in these parts before, at least not very far from
+here.&nbsp; Ten years ago, when I was little more than a child, I was
+about twenty miles from here in a post-chaise, at the door of an inn,
+and as I looked from the window of the chaise, I saw you standing by
+a gutter, with a big tin ladle in your hand, and somebody called you
+Jack Slingsby.&nbsp; I never forget anything I hear or see; I can&rsquo;t,
+I wish I could.&nbsp; So there&rsquo;s nothing strange in my knowing
+your name; indeed, there&rsquo;s nothing strange in anything, provided
+you examine it to the bottom.&nbsp; Now what am I to give you for the
+things?<br>
+<br>
+I paid Slingsby five pounds ten shillings for his stock in trade, cart,
+and pony - purchased sundry provisions of the landlady, also a wagoner&rsquo;s
+frock, which had belonged to a certain son of hers, deceased, gave my
+little animal a feed of corn, and prepared to depart.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;God bless you, young man,&rsquo; said Slingsby, shaking me by
+the hand; &lsquo;you are the best friend I&rsquo;ve had for many a day:
+I have but one thing to tell you, Don&rsquo;t cross that fellow&rsquo;s
+path if you can help it; and stay - should the pony refuse to go, just
+touch him so, and he&rsquo;ll fly like the wind.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXIX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Effects of corn - One night longer - The hoofs - A stumble - Are you
+hurt? - What a difference - Drowsy - Maze of bushes - Housekeeping -
+Sticks and furze - The driftway - Account of stock - Anvil and bellows
+- Twenty years.<br>
+<br>
+It was two or three hours past noon when I took my departure from the
+place of the last adventure, walking by the side of my little cart;
+the pony, invigorated by the corn, to which he was probably not much
+accustomed, proceeded right gallantly; so far from having to hasten
+him forward by the particular application which the tinker had pointed
+out to me, I had rather to repress his eagerness, being, though an excellent
+pedestrian, not unfrequently left behind.&nbsp; The country through
+which I passed was beautiful and interesting, but solitary; few habitations
+appeared.&nbsp; As it was quite a matter of indifference to me in what
+direction I went, the whole world being before me, I allowed the pony
+to decide upon the matter; it was not long before he left the high-road,
+being probably no friend to public places.&nbsp; I followed him I knew
+not whither, but, from subsequent observation, have reason to suppose
+that our course was in a north-west direction.&nbsp; At length night
+came upon us, and a cold wind sprang up, which was succeeded by a drizzling
+rain.<br>
+<br>
+I had originally intended to pass the night in the cart, or to pitch
+my little tent on some convenient spot by the road&rsquo;s side; but,
+owing to the alteration in the weather, I thought that it would be advisable
+to take up my quarters in any hedge alehouse at which I might arrive.&nbsp;
+To tell the truth, I was not very sorry to have an excuse to pass the
+night once more beneath a roof.&nbsp; I had determined to live quite
+independent, but I had never before passed a night by myself abroad,
+and felt a little apprehensive at the idea; I hoped, however, on the
+morrow, to be a little more prepared for the step, so I determined for
+one night - only for one night longer - to sleep like a Christian; but
+human determinations are not always put into effect, such a thing as
+opportunity is frequently wanting, such was the case here.&nbsp; I went
+on for a considerable time, in expectation of coming to some rustic
+hostelry, but nothing of the kind presented itself to my eyes; the country
+in which I now was seemed almost uninhabited, not a house of any kind
+was to be seen - at least I saw none - though it is true houses might
+be near without my seeing them, owing to the darkness of the night,
+for neither moon nor star was abroad.&nbsp; I heard, occasionally, the
+bark of dogs; but the sound appeared to come from an immense distance.&nbsp;
+The rain still fell, and the ground beneath my feet was wet and miry;
+in short, it was a night in which even a tramper by profession would
+feel more comfortable in being housed than abroad.&nbsp; I followed
+in the rear of the cart, the pony still proceeding at a sturdy pace,
+till methought I heard other hoofs than those of my own nag; I listened
+for a moment, and distinctly heard the sound of hoofs approaching at
+a great rate, and evidently from the quarter towards which I and my
+little caravan were moving.&nbsp; We were in a dark lane - so dark that
+it was impossible for me to see my own hand.&nbsp; Apprehensive that
+some accident might occur, I ran forward, and, seizing the pony by the
+bridle, drew him as near as I could to the hedge.&nbsp; On came the
+hoofs - trot, trot, trot; and evidently more than those of one horse;
+their speed as they advanced appeared to slacken - it was only, however,
+for a moment.&nbsp; I heard a voice cry, &lsquo;Push on, - this is a
+desperate robbing place, - never mind the dark&rsquo;; and the hoofs
+came on quicker than before.&nbsp; &lsquo;Stop!&rsquo; said I, at the
+top of my voice; &lsquo;stop! or - &rsquo;&nbsp; Before I could finish
+what I was about to say there was a stumble, a heavy fall, a cry, and
+a groan, and putting out my foot I felt what I conjectured to be the
+head of a horse stretched upon the road.&nbsp; &lsquo;Lord have mercy
+upon us! what&rsquo;s the matter?&rsquo; exclaimed a voice.&nbsp; &lsquo;Spare
+my life,&rsquo; cried another voice, apparently from the ground; &lsquo;only
+spare my life, and take all I have.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Where are you,
+Master Wise?&rsquo; cried the other voice.&nbsp; &lsquo;Help! here,
+Master Bat,&rsquo; cried the voice from the ground; &lsquo;help me up
+or I shall be murdered.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Why, what&rsquo;s the matter?&rsquo;
+said Bat.&nbsp; &lsquo;Some one has knocked me down, and is robbing
+me,&rsquo; said the voice from the ground.&nbsp; &lsquo;Help! murder!&rsquo;
+cried Bat; and, regardless of the entreaties of the man on the ground
+that he would stay and help him up, he urged his horse forward and galloped
+away as fast as he could.&nbsp; I remained for some time quiet, listening
+to various groans and exclamations uttered by the person on the ground;
+at length I said, &lsquo;Holloa! are you hurt?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Spare
+my life, and take all I have!&rsquo; said the voice from the ground.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Have they not done robbing you yet?&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;when
+they have finished let me know, and I will come and help you.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Who is that?&rsquo; said the voice; &lsquo;pray come and help
+me, and do me no mischief.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You were saying that
+some one was robbing you,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;don&rsquo;t think I
+shall come till he is gone away.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Then you ben&rsquo;t
+he?&rsquo; said the voice.&nbsp; &lsquo;Aren&rsquo;t you robbed?&rsquo;
+said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Can&rsquo;t say I be,&rsquo; said the voice; &lsquo;not
+yet at any rate; but who are you?&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t know you.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;A traveller whom you and your partner were going to run over
+in this dark lane; you almost frightened me out of my senses.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Frightened!&rsquo; said the voice, in a louder tone; &lsquo;frightened!
+oh!&rsquo; and thereupon I heard somebody getting upon his legs.&nbsp;
+This accomplished, the individual proceeded to attend to his horse,
+and with a little difficulty raised him upon his legs also.&nbsp; &lsquo;Aren&rsquo;t
+you hurt?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Hurt!&rsquo; said the voice; &lsquo;not
+I; don&rsquo;t think it, whatever the horse may be.&nbsp; I tell you
+what, my fellow, I thought you were a robber, and now I find you are
+not; I have a good mind - &rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;To do what?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;To serve you out; aren&rsquo;t you ashamed - ?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;At
+what?&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;not to have robbed you?&nbsp; Shall I set
+about it now?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Ha, ha!&rsquo; said the man, dropping
+the bullying tone which he had assumed; &lsquo;you are joking - robbing!
+who talks of robbing?&nbsp; I wonder how my horse&rsquo;s knees are;
+not much hurt, I think - only mired.&rsquo;&nbsp; The man, whoever he
+was, then got upon his horse; and, after moving him about a little,
+said, &lsquo;Good night, friend; where are you?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Here
+I am,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;just behind you.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You
+are, are you?&nbsp; Take that.&rsquo;&nbsp; I know not what he did,
+but probably pricking his horse with the spur the animal kicked out
+violently; one of his heels struck me on the shoulder, but luckily missed
+my face; I fell back with the violence of the blow, whilst the fellow
+scampered off at a great rate.&nbsp; Stopping at some distance, he loaded
+me with abuse, and then, continuing his way at a rapid trot, I heard
+no more of him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What a difference!&rsquo; said I, getting up; &lsquo;last night
+I was f&ecirc;ted in the hall of a rich genius, and to-night I am knocked
+down and mired in a dark lane by the heel of Master Wise&rsquo;s horse
+- I wonder who gave him that name?&nbsp; And yet he was wise enough
+to wreak his revenge upon me, and I was not wise enough to keep out
+of his way.&nbsp; Well, I am not much hurt, so it is of little consequence.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I now bethought me that, as I had a carriage of my own, I might as well
+make use of it; I therefore got into the cart, and, taking the reins
+in my hand, gave an encouraging cry to the pony, whereupon the sturdy
+little animal started again at as brisk a pace as if he had not already
+come many a long mile.&nbsp; I lay half reclining in the cart, holding
+the reins lazily, and allowing the animal to go just where he pleased,
+often wondering where he would conduct me.&nbsp; At length I felt drowsy,
+and my head sank upon my breast; I soon aroused myself, but it was only
+to doze again; this occurred several times.&nbsp; Opening my eyes after
+a doze somewhat longer than the others, I found that the drizzling rain
+had ceased, a corner of the moon was apparent in the heavens, casting
+a faint light; I looked around for a moment or two, but my eyes and
+brain were heavy with slumber, and I could scarcely distinguish where
+we were.&nbsp; I had a kind of dim consciousness that we were traversing
+an uninclosed country - perhaps a heath; I thought, however, that I
+saw certain large black objects looming in the distance, which I had
+a confused idea might be woods or plantations; the pony still moved
+at his usual pace.&nbsp; I did not find the jolting of the cart at all
+disagreeable, on the contrary, it had quite a somniferous effect upon
+me.&nbsp; Again my eyes closed; I opened them once more, but with less
+perception in them than before, looked forward, and, muttering something
+about woodlands, I placed myself in an easier posture than I had hitherto
+done, and fairly fell asleep.<br>
+<br>
+How long I continued in that state I am unable to say, but I believe
+for a considerable time; I was suddenly awakened by the ceasing of the
+jolting to which I had become accustomed, and of which I was perfectly
+sensible in my sleep.&nbsp; I started up and looked around me, the moon
+was still shining, and the face of the heaven was studded with stars;
+I found myself amidst a maze of bushes of various kinds, but principally
+hazel and holly, through which was a path or driftway with grass growing
+on either side, upon which the pony was already diligently browsing.&nbsp;
+I conjectured that this place had been one of the haunts of his former
+master, and, on dismounting and looking about, was strengthened in that
+opinion by finding a spot under an ash tree which, from its burnt and
+blackened appearance, seemed to have been frequently used as a fireplace.&nbsp;
+I will take up my quarters here, thought I; it is an excellent spot
+for me to commence my new profession in; I was quite right to trust
+myself to the guidance of the pony.&nbsp; Unharnessing the animal without
+delay, I permitted him to browse at free will on the grass, convinced
+that he would not wander far from a place to which he was so much attached;
+I then pitched the little tent close beside the ash tree to which I
+have alluded, and conveyed two or three articles into it, and instantly
+felt that I had commenced housekeeping for the first time in my life.&nbsp;
+Housekeeping, however, without a fire is a very sorry affair, something
+like the housekeeping of children in their toy houses; of this I was
+the more sensible from feeling very cold and shivering, owing to my
+late exposure to the rain, and sleeping in the night air.&nbsp; Collecting,
+therefore, all the dry sticks and furze I could find, I placed them
+upon the fireplace, adding certain chips and a billet which I found
+in the cart, it having apparently been the habit of Slingsby to carry
+with him a small store of fuel.&nbsp; Having then struck a spark in
+a tinder-box and lighted a match, I set fire to the combustible heap,
+and was not slow in raising a cheerful blaze; I then drew my cart near
+the fire, and, seating myself on one of the shafts, hung over the warmth
+with feelings of intense pleasure and satisfaction.&nbsp; Having continued
+in this posture for a considerable time, I turned my eyes to the heaven
+in the direction of a particular star; I, however, could not find the
+star, nor indeed many of the starry train, the greater number having
+fled, from which circumstance, and from the appearance of the sky, I
+concluded that morning was nigh.&nbsp; About this time I again began
+to feel drowsy; I therefore arose, and having prepared for myself a
+kind of couch in the tent, I flung myself upon it and went to sleep.<br>
+<br>
+I will not say that I was awakened in the morning by the carolling of
+birds, as I perhaps might if I were writing a novel; I awoke because,
+to use vulgar language, I had slept my sleep out, not because the birds
+were carolling around me in numbers, as they had probably been for hours
+without my hearing them.&nbsp; I got up and left my tent; the morning
+was yet more bright than that of the preceding day.&nbsp; Impelled by
+curiosity, I walked about endeavouring to ascertain to what place chance,
+or rather the pony, had brought me; following the driftway for some
+time, amidst bushes and stunted trees, I came to a grove of dark pines,
+through which it appeared to lead; I tracked it a few hundred yards,
+but seeing nothing but trees, and the way being wet and sloughy, owing
+to the recent rain, I returned on my steps, and, pursuing the path in
+another direction, came to a sandy road leading over a common, doubtless
+the one I had traversed the preceding night.&nbsp; My curiosity satisfied,
+I returned to my little encampment, and on the way beheld a small footpath
+on the left winding through the bushes, which had before escaped my
+observation.&nbsp; Having reached my tent and cart, I breakfasted on
+some of the provisions which I had procured the day before, and then
+proceeded to take a regular account of the stock formerly possessed
+by Slingsby the tinker, but now become my own by right of lawful purchase.<br>
+<br>
+Besides the pony, the cart, and the tent, I found I was possessed of
+a mattress stuffed with straw on which to lie, and a blanket to cover
+me, the last quite clean and nearly new; then there was a frying-pan
+and a kettle, the first for cooking any food which required cooking,
+and the second for heating any water which I might wish to heat.&nbsp;
+I likewise found an earthen teapot and two or three cups; of the first
+I should rather say I found the remains, it being broken in three parts,
+no doubt since it came into my possession, which would have precluded
+the possibility of my asking anybody to tea for the present, should
+anybody visit me, even supposing I had tea and sugar, which was not
+the case.&nbsp; I then overhauled what might more strictly be called
+the stock in trade; this consisted of various tools, an iron ladle,
+a chafing-pan and small bellows, sundry pans and kettles, the latter
+being of tin, with the exception of one which was of copper, all in
+a state of considerable dilapidation - if I may use the term; of these
+first Slingsby had spoken in particular, advising me to mend them as
+soon as possible, and to endeavour to sell them, in order that I might
+have the satisfaction of receiving some return upon the outlay which
+I had made.&nbsp; There was likewise a small quantity of block tin,
+sheet tin, and solder.&nbsp; &lsquo;This Slingsby,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;is
+certainly a very honest man, he has sold me more than my money&rsquo;s
+worth; I believe, however, there is something more in the cart.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Thereupon I rummaged the farther end of the cart, and, amidst a quantity
+of straw, I found a small anvil and bellows of that kind which are used
+in forges, and two hammers such as smiths use, one great, and the other
+small.<br>
+<br>
+The sight of these last articles caused me no little surprise, as no
+word which had escaped from the mouth of Slingsby had given me reason
+to suppose that he had ever followed the occupation of a smith; yet,
+if he had not, how did he come by them?&nbsp; I sat down upon the shaft,
+and pondered the question deliberately in my mind; at length I concluded
+that he had come by them by one of those numerous casualties which occur
+upon the roads, of which I, being a young hand upon the roads, must
+have a very imperfect conception; honestly, of course - for I scouted
+the idea that Slingsby would have stolen this blacksmith&rsquo;s gear
+- for I had the highest opinion of his honesty, which opinion I still
+retain at the present day, which is upwards of twenty years from the
+time of which I am speaking, during the whole of which period I have
+neither seen the poor fellow nor received any intelligence of him.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+New profession - Beautiful night - Jupiter - Sharp and shrill - The
+Rommany chi - All alone - Three-and-sixpence - What is Rommany?&nbsp;
+Be civil - Parraco tute - Slight start - She will be grateful - The
+rustling.<br>
+<br>
+I passed the greater part of the day in endeavouring to teach myself
+the mysteries of my new profession.&nbsp; I cannot say that I was very
+successful, but the time passed agreeably, and was therefore not ill
+spent.&nbsp; Towards evening I flung my work aside, took some refreshment,
+and afterwards a walk.<br>
+<br>
+This time I turned up the small footpath of which I have already spoken.&nbsp;
+It led in a zigzag manner through thickets of hazel, elder, and sweet-brier;
+after following its windings for somewhat better than a furlong, I heard
+a gentle sound of water, and presently came to a small rill, which ran
+directly across the path.&nbsp; I was rejoiced at the sight, for I had
+already experienced the want of water, which I yet knew must be nigh
+at hand, as I was in a place to all appearance occasionally frequented
+by wandering people, who I was aware never take up their quarters in
+places where water is difficult to be obtained.&nbsp; Forthwith I stretched
+myself on the ground, and took a long and delicious draught of the crystal
+stream, and then, seating myself in a bush, I continued for some time
+gazing on the water as it purled tinkling away in its channel through
+an opening in the hazels, and should have probably continued much longer
+had not the thought that I had left my property unprotected compelled
+me to rise and return to my encampment.<br>
+<br>
+Night came on, and a beautiful night it was; up rose the moon, and innumerable
+stars decked the firmament of heaven.&nbsp; I sat on the shaft, my eyes
+turned upwards.&nbsp; I had found it: there it was twinkling millions
+of miles above me, mightiest star of the system to which we belong:
+of all stars the one which has most interest for me - the star Jupiter.<br>
+<br>
+Why have I always taken an interest in thee, O Jupiter?&nbsp; I know
+nothing about thee, save what every child knows, that thou art a big
+star, whose only light is derived from moons.&nbsp; And is not that
+knowledge enough to make me feel an interest in thee?&nbsp; Ay, truly;
+I never look at thee without wondering what is going on in thee; what
+is life in Jupiter?&nbsp; That there is life in Jupiter who can doubt?&nbsp;
+There is life in our own little star, therefore there must be life in
+Jupiter, which is not a little star.&nbsp; But how different must life
+be in Jupiter from what it is in our own little star!&nbsp; Life here
+is life beneath the dear sun - life in Jupiter is life beneath moons
+- four moons - no single moon is able to illumine that vast bulk.&nbsp;
+All know what life is in our own little star; it is anything but a routine
+of happiness here, where the dear sun rises to us every day: then how
+sad and moping must life be in mighty Jupiter, on which no sun ever
+shines, and which is never lighted save by pale moonbeams!&nbsp; The
+thought that there is more sadness and melancholy in Jupiter than in
+this world of ours, where, alas! there is but too much, has always made
+me take a melancholy interest in that huge distant star.<br>
+<br>
+Two or three days passed by in much the same manner as the first.&nbsp;
+During the morning I worked upon my kettles, and employed the remaining
+part of the day as I best could.&nbsp; The whole of this time I only
+saw two individuals, rustics, who passed by my encampment without vouchsafing
+me a glance; they probably considered themselves my superiors, as perhaps
+they were.<br>
+<br>
+One very brilliant morning, as I sat at work in very good spirits, for
+by this time I had actually mended in a very creditable way, as I imagined,
+two kettles and a frying-pan, I heard a voice which seemed to proceed
+from the path leading to the rivulet; at first it sounded from a considerable
+distance, but drew nearer by degrees.&nbsp; I soon remarked that the
+tones were exceedingly sharp and shrill, with yet something of childhood
+in them.&nbsp; Once or twice I distinguished certain words in the song
+which the voice was singing; the words were - but no, I thought again
+I was probably mistaken - and then the voice ceased for a time; presently
+I heard it again, close to the entrance of the footpath; in another
+moment I heard it in the lane or glade in which stood my tent, where
+it abruptly stopped, but not before I had heard the very words which
+I at first thought I had distinguished.<br>
+<br>
+I turned my head; at the entrance of the footpath, which might be about
+thirty yards from the place where I was sitting, I perceived the figure
+of a young girl; her face was turned towards me, and she appeared to
+be scanning me and my encampment; after a little time she looked in
+the other direction, only for a moment, however; probably observing
+nothing in that quarter, she again looked towards me, and almost immediately
+stepped forward; and, as she advanced, sang the song which I had heard
+in the wood, the first words of which were those which I have already
+alluded to.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Rommany chi<br>
+And the Rommany chal<br>
+Shall jaw tasaulor<br>
+To drab the bawlor,<br>
+And dook the gry<br>
+Of the farming rye.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+A very pretty song, thought I, falling again hard to work upon my kettle;
+a very pretty song, which bodes the farmers much good.&nbsp; Let them
+look to their cattle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;All alone here, brother?&rsquo; said a voice close by me, in
+sharp but not disagreeable tones.<br>
+<br>
+I made no answer, but continued my work, click, click, with the gravity
+which became one of my profession.&nbsp; I allowed at least half a minute
+to elapse before I even lifted up my eyes.<br>
+<br>
+A girl of about thirteen was standing before me; her features were very
+pretty, but with a peculiar expression; her complexion was a clear olive,
+and her jet black hair hung back upon her shoulders.&nbsp; She was rather
+scantily dressed, and her arms and feet were bare; round her neck, however,
+was a handsome string of corals, with ornaments of gold; in her hand
+she held a bulrush.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;All alone here, brother?&rsquo; said the girl, as I looked up;
+&lsquo;all alone here, in the lane; where are your wife and children?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why do you call me brother?&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;am no brother
+of yours.&nbsp; Do you take me for one of your people?&nbsp; I am no
+gypsy; not I, indeed!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t be afraid, brother, you are no Roman - Roman indeed,
+you are not handsome enough to be a Roman; not black enough, tinker
+though you be.&nbsp; If I called you brother, it was because I didn&rsquo;t
+know what else to call you.&nbsp; Marry, come up, brother, I should
+be sorry to have you for a brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you don&rsquo;t like me?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Neither like you nor dislike you, brother; what will you have
+for that kekaubi?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s the use of talking to me in that unchristian way;
+what do you mean, young gentlewoman?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Lord, brother, what a fool you are; every tinker knows what a
+kekaubi is.&nbsp; I was asking you what you would have for that kettle.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Three-and-sixpence, young gentlewoman; isn&rsquo;t it well mended?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well mended!&nbsp; I could have done it better myself; three-and-sixpence!
+it&rsquo;s only fit to be played at football with.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will take no less for it, young gentlewoman; it has caused
+me a world of trouble.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never saw a worse mended kettle.&nbsp; I say, brother, your
+hair is white.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&rsquo;Tis nature; your hair is black; nature, nothing but nature.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am young, brother; my hair is black - that&rsquo;s nature:
+you are young, brother; your hair is white - that&rsquo;s not nature.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I can&rsquo;t help it if it be not, but it is nature after all;
+did you never see gray hair on the young?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never!&nbsp; I have heard it is true of a gray lad, and a bad
+one he was.&nbsp; Oh, so bad.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sit down on the grass, and tell me all about it, sister; do,
+to oblige me, pretty sister.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hey, brother, you don&rsquo;t speak as you did - you don&rsquo;t
+speak like a gorgio, you speak like one of us, you call me sister.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As you call me brother; I am not an uncivil person after all,
+sister.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I say, brother, tell me one thing, and look me in the face -
+there - do you speak Rommany?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Rommany!&nbsp; Rommany! what is Rommany?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is Rommany? our language to be sure; tell me, brother, only
+one thing, you don&rsquo;t speak Rommany?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You say it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t say it, I wish to know.&nbsp; Do you speak Rommany?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you mean thieves&rsquo; slang - cant? no, I don&rsquo;t speak
+cant, don&rsquo;t like it, I only know a few words; they call a sixpence
+a tanner, don&rsquo;t they?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said the girl, sitting down on the
+ground, &lsquo;I was almost thinking - well, never mind, you don&rsquo;t
+know Rommany.&nbsp; I say, brother, I think I should like to have the
+kekaubi.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I thought you said it was badly mended?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, yes, brother, but - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I thought you said it was only fit to be played at football with?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, yes, brother, but - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What will you give for it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Brother, I am the poor person&rsquo;s child, I will give you
+sixpence for the kekaubi.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Poor person&rsquo;s child; how came you by that necklace?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Be civil, brother; am I to have the kekaubi?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not for sixpence; isn&rsquo;t the kettle nicely mended?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never saw a nicer mended kettle, brother; am I to have the
+kekaubi, brother?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You like me then?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t dislike you - I dislike no one; there&rsquo;s only
+one, and him I don&rsquo;t dislike, him I hate.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is he?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I scarcely know, I never saw him, but &rsquo;tis no affair of
+yours, you don&rsquo;t speak Rommany; you will let me have the kekaubi,
+pretty brother?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You may have it, but not for sixpence; I&rsquo;ll give it to
+you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Parraco tute, that is, I thank you, brother; the rikkeni kekaubi
+is now mine.&nbsp; O, rare!&nbsp; I thank you kindly, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Starting up, she flung the bulrush aside which she had hitherto held
+in her hand, and, seizing the kettle, she looked at it for a moment,
+and then began a kind of dance, flourishing the kettle over her head
+the while, and singing -<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Rommany chi<br>
+And the Rommany chal<br>
+Shall jaw tasaulor<br>
+To drab the bawlor,<br>
+And dook the gry<br>
+Of the farming rye.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Good-bye, brother, I must be going.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Good-bye, sister; why do you sing that wicked song?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Wicked song, hey, brother! you don&rsquo;t understand the song!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ha, ha! gypsy daughter,&rsquo; said I, starting up and clapping
+my hands, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t understand Rommany, don&rsquo;t I?&nbsp;
+You shall see; here&rsquo;s the answer to your gillie -<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Rommany chi<br>
+And the Rommany chal,<br>
+Love Luripen<br>
+And dukkeripen,<br>
+And hokkeripen,<br>
+And every pen<br>
+But Lachipen<br>
+And tatchipen.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The girl, who had given a slight start when I began, remained for some
+time after I had concluded the song standing motionless as a statue,
+with the kettle in her hand.&nbsp; At length she came towards me, and
+stared me full in the face.&nbsp; &lsquo;Gray, tall, and talks Rommany,&rsquo;
+said she to herself.&nbsp; In her countenance there was an expression
+which I had not seen before - an expression which struck me as being
+composed of fear, curiosity, and the deepest hate.&nbsp; It was momentary,
+however, and was succeeded by one smiling, frank, and open.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ha,
+ha, brother,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;well, I like you all the better
+for talking Rommany; it is a sweet language, isn&rsquo;t it? especially
+as you sing it.&nbsp; How did you pick it up?&nbsp; But you picked it
+up upon the roads, no doubt?&nbsp; Ha, it was funny in you to pretend
+not to know it, and you so flush with it all the time; it was not kind
+in you, however, to frighten the poor person&rsquo;s child so by screaming
+out, but it was kind in you to give the rikkeni kekaubi to the child
+of the poor person.&nbsp; She will be grateful to you; she will bring
+you her little dog to show you, her pretty juggal; the poor person&rsquo;s
+child will come and see you again; you are not going away to-day, I
+hope, or to-morrow, pretty brother, gray-haired brother - you are not
+going away to-morrow, I hope?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nor the next day,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;only to take a stroll
+to see if I can sell a kettle; good-bye, little sister, Rommany sister,
+dingy sister.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Good-bye, tall brother,&rsquo; said the girl, as she departed,
+singing<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Rommany chi,&rsquo; etc.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There&rsquo;s something about that girl that I don&rsquo;t understand,&rsquo;
+said I to myself; &lsquo;something mysterious.&nbsp; However, it is
+nothing to me, she knows not who I am, and if she did, what then?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Late that evening as I sat on the shaft of my cart in deep meditation,
+with my arms folded, I thought I heard a rustling in the bushes over
+against me.&nbsp; I turned my eyes in that direction, but saw nothing.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Some bird,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;an owl, perhaps&rsquo;; and
+once more I fell into meditation; my mind wandered from one thing to
+another - musing now on the structure of the Roman tongue - now on the
+rise and fall of the Persian power - and now on the powers vested in
+recorders at quarter-sessions.&nbsp; I was thinking what a fine thing
+it must be to be a recorder of the peace, when, lifting up my eyes,
+I saw right opposite, not a culprit at the bar, but, staring at me through
+a gap in the bush, a face wild and strange, half covered with gray hair;
+I only saw it a moment, the next it had disappeared.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Friend of Slingsby - All quiet - Danger - The two cakes - Children in
+the wood - Don&rsquo;t be angry - In deep thought - Temples throbbing
+- Deadly sick - Another blow - No answer - How old are you? - Play and
+sacrament - Heavy heart - Song of poison - Drow of gypsies - The dog
+- Ely&rsquo;s church - Get up, bebee - The vehicle - Can you speak?
+- The oil.<br>
+<br>
+The next day, at an early hour, I harnessed my little pony, and, putting
+my things in my cart, I went on my projected stroll.&nbsp; Crossing
+the moor, I arrived in about an hour at a small village, from which,
+after a short stay, I proceeded to another, and from thence to a third.&nbsp;
+I found that the name of Slingsby was well known in these parts.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If you are a friend of Slingsby you must be an honest lad,&rsquo;
+said an ancient crone; &lsquo;you shall never want for work whilst I
+can give it you.&nbsp; Here, take my kettle, the bottom came out this
+morning, and lend me that of yours till you bring it back.&nbsp; I&rsquo;m
+not afraid to trust you - not I.&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t hurry yourself, young
+man, if you don&rsquo;t come back for a fortnight I shan&rsquo;t have
+the worse opinion of you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I returned to my quarters at evening, tired, but rejoiced at heart;
+I had work before me for several days, having collected various kekaubies
+which required mending, in place of those which I left behind - those
+which I had been employed upon during the last few days.&nbsp; I found
+all quiet in the lane or glade, and, unharnessing my little horse, I
+once more pitched my tent in the old spot beneath the ash, lighted my
+fire, ate my frugal meal, and then, after looking for some time at the
+heavenly bodies, and more particularly at the star Jupiter, I entered
+my tent, lay down upon my pallet, and went to sleep.<br>
+<br>
+Nothing occurred on the following day which requires any particular
+notice, nor indeed on the one succeeding that.&nbsp; It was about noon
+on the third day that I sat beneath the shade of the ash tree; I was
+not at work, for the weather was particularly hot, and I felt but little
+inclination to make any exertion.&nbsp; Leaning my back against the
+tree, I was not long in falling into a slumber; I particularly remember
+that slumber of mine beneath the ash tree, for it was about the sweetest
+slumber that I ever enjoyed; how long I continued in it I do not know;
+I could almost have wished that it had lasted to the present time.&nbsp;
+All of a sudden it appeared to me that a voice cried in my ear, &lsquo;Danger!
+danger! danger!&rsquo;&nbsp; Nothing seemingly could be more distinct
+than the words which I heard; then an uneasy sensation came over me,
+which I strove to get rid of, and at last succeeded, for I awoke.&nbsp;
+The gypsy girl was standing just opposite to me, with her eyes fixed
+upon my countenance; a singular kind of little dog stood beside her.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ha!&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;was it you that cried danger?&nbsp;
+What danger is there?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Danger, brother, there is no danger; what danger should there
+be?&nbsp; I called to my little dog, but that was in the wood; my little
+dog&rsquo;s name is not danger, but Stranger; what danger should there
+be, brother?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What, indeed, except in sleeping beneath a tree; what is that
+you have got in your hand?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Something for you,&rsquo; said the girl, sitting down and proceeding
+to untie a white napkin; &lsquo;a pretty manricli, so sweet, so nice;
+when I went home to my people I told my grandbebee how kind you had
+been to the poor person&rsquo;s child, and when my grandbebee saw the
+kekaubi, she said, &ldquo;Hir mi devlis, it won&rsquo;t do for the poor
+people to be ungrateful; by my God, I will bake a cake for the young
+harko mescro.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But there are two cakes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, brother, two cakes, both for you; my grandbebee meant them
+both for you - but list, brother, I will have one of them for bringing
+them.&nbsp; I know you will give me one, pretty brother, gray-haired
+brother - which shall I have, brother?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+In the napkin were two round cakes, seemingly made of rich and costly
+compounds, and precisely similar in form, each weighing about half a
+pound.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Which shall I have, brother?&rsquo; said the gypsy girl.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Whichever you please.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, brother, no, the cakes are yours, not mine.&nbsp; It is for
+you to say.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, then, give me the one nearest you, and take the other.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, brother, yes,&rsquo; said the girl; and taking the cakes,
+she flung them into the air two or three times, catching them as they
+fell, and singing the while.&nbsp; &lsquo;Pretty brother, gray-haired
+brother - here, brother,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;here is your cake,
+this other is mine.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are you sure,&rsquo; said I, taking the cake, &lsquo;that this
+is the one I chose?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Quite sure, brother; but if you like you can have mine; there&rsquo;s
+no difference, however - shall I eat?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, sister, eat.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;See, brother, I do; now, brother, eat, pretty brother, gray-haired
+brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am not hungry.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not hungry! well, what then - what has being hungry to do with
+the matter?&nbsp; It is my grandbebee&rsquo;s cake which was sent because
+you were kind to the poor person&rsquo;s child; eat, brother, eat, and
+we shall be like the children in the wood that the gorgios speak of.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The children in the wood had nothing to eat.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, they had hips and haws; we have better.&nbsp; Eat, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;See, sister, I do,&rsquo; and I ate a piece of the cake.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, brother, how do you like it?&rsquo; said the girl, looking
+fixedly at me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is very rich and sweet, and yet there is something strange
+about it; I don&rsquo;t think I shall eat any more.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Fie, brother, fie, to find fault with the poor person&rsquo;s
+cake; see, I have nearly eaten mine.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s a pretty little dog.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it not, brother? that&rsquo;s my juggal, my little sister,
+as I call her.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come here, juggal,&rsquo; said I to the animal.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you want with my juggal?&rsquo; said the girl.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Only to give her a piece of cake,&rsquo; said I, offering the
+dog a piece which I had just broken off.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you mean?&rsquo; said the girl, snatching the dog away;
+&lsquo;my grandbebee&rsquo;s cake is not for dogs.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, I just now saw you give the animal a piece of yours.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You lie, brother, you saw no such thing; but I see how it is,
+you wish to affront the poor person&rsquo;s child.&nbsp; I shall go
+to my house.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Keep still, and don&rsquo;t be angry; see, I have eaten the piece
+which I offered the dog.&nbsp; I meant no offence.&nbsp; It is a sweet
+cake after all.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Isn&rsquo;t it, brother?&nbsp; I am glad you like it.&nbsp; Offence,
+brother, no offence at all!&nbsp; I am so glad you like my grandbebee&rsquo;s
+cake, but she will be wanting me at home.&nbsp; Eat one piece more of
+grandbebee&rsquo;s cake, and I will go.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am not hungry, I will put the rest by.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One piece more before I go, handsome brother, gray-haired brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will not eat any more, I have already eaten more than I wished
+to oblige you; if you must go, good-day to you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The girl rose upon her feet, looked hard at me, then at the remainder
+of the cake which I held in my hand, and then at me again, and then
+stood for a moment or two, as if in deep thought; presently an air of
+satisfaction came over her countenance, she smiled and said, &lsquo;Well,
+brother, well, do as you please, I merely wished you to eat because
+you have been so kind to the poor person&rsquo;s child.&nbsp; She loves
+you so, that she could have wished to have seen you eat it all; good-bye,
+brother, I daresay when I am gone you will eat some more of it, and
+if you don&rsquo;t, I daresay you have eaten enough to - to - show your
+love for us.&nbsp; After all it was a poor person&rsquo;s cake, a Rommany
+manricli, and all you gorgios are somewhat gorgious.&nbsp; Farewell,
+brother, pretty brother, gray-haired brother.&nbsp; Come, juggal.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I remained under the ash tree seated on the grass for a minute or two,
+and endeavoured to resume the occupation in which I had been engaged
+before I fell asleep, but I felt no inclination for labour.&nbsp; I
+then thought I would sleep again, and once more reclined against the
+tree, and slumbered for some little time, but my sleep was more agitated
+than before.&nbsp; Something appeared to bear heavy on my breast, I
+struggled in my sleep, fell on the grass, and awoke; my temples were
+throbbing, there was a burning in my eyes, and my mouth felt parched;
+the oppression about the chest which I had felt in my sleep still continued.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I must shake off these feelings,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and get
+upon my legs.&rsquo;&nbsp; I walked rapidly up and down upon the green
+sward; at length, feeling my thirst increase, I directed my steps down
+the narrow path to the spring which ran amidst the bushes; arriving
+there, I knelt down and drank of the water, but on lifting up my head
+I felt thirstier than before; again I drank, but with the like result;
+I was about to drink for the third time, when I felt a dreadful qualm
+which instantly robbed me of nearly all my strength.&nbsp; What can
+be the matter with me? thought I; but I suppose I have made myself ill
+by drinking cold water.&nbsp; I got up and made the best of my way back
+to my tent; before I reached it the qualm had seized me again, and I
+was deadly sick.&nbsp; I flung myself on my pallet, qualm succeeded
+qualm, but in the intervals my mouth was dry and burning, and I felt
+a frantic desire to drink, but no water was at hand, and to reach the
+spring once more was impossible; the qualms continued, deadly pains
+shot through my whole frame; I could bear my agonies no longer, and
+I fell into a trance or swoon.&nbsp; How long I continued therein I
+know not; on recovering, however, I felt somewhat better, and attempted
+to lift my head off my couch; the next moment, however, the qualms and
+pains returned, if possible, with greater violence than before.&nbsp;
+I am dying, thought I, like a dog, without any help; and then methought
+I heard a sound at a distance like people singing, and then once more
+I relapsed into my swoon.<br>
+<br>
+I revived just as a heavy blow sounded upon the canvas of the tent.&nbsp;
+I started, but my condition did not permit me to rise; again the same
+kind of blow sounded upon the canvas; I thought for a moment of crying
+out and requesting assistance, but an inexplicable something chained
+my tongue, and now I heard a whisper on the outside of the tent.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;He does not move, bebee,&rsquo; said a voice which I knew.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I should not wonder if it has done for him already; however,
+strike again with your ran&rsquo;; and then there was another blow,
+after which another voice cried aloud in a strange tone, &lsquo;Is the
+gentleman of the house asleep, or is he taking his dinner?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+I remained quite silent and motionless, and in another moment the voice
+continued, &lsquo;What, no answer? what can the gentleman of the house
+be about that he makes no answer? perhaps the gentleman of the house
+may be darning his stockings?&rsquo;&nbsp; Thereupon a face peered into
+the door of the tent, at the farther extremity of which I was stretched.&nbsp;
+It was that of a woman, but owing to the posture in which she stood,
+with her back to the light, and partly owing to a large straw bonnet,
+I could distinguish but very little of the features of her countenance.&nbsp;
+I had, however, recognised her voice; it was that of my old acquaintance,
+Mrs. Herne.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ho, ho, sir!&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;here you
+are.&nbsp; Come here, Leonora,&rsquo; said she to the gypsy girl, who
+pressed in at the other side of the door; &lsquo;here is the gentleman,
+not asleep, but only stretched out after dinner.&nbsp; Sit down on your
+ham, child, at the door, I shall do the same.&nbsp; There - you have
+seen me before, sir, have you not?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The gentleman makes no answer, bebee; perhaps he does not know
+you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have known him of old, Leonora,&rsquo; said Mrs. Herne; &lsquo;and,
+to tell you the truth, though I spoke to him just now, I expected no
+answer.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It&rsquo;s a way he has, bebee, I suppose?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, child, it&rsquo;s a way he has.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Take off your bonnet, bebee, perhaps he cannot see your face.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not think that will be of much use, child; however, I will
+take off my bonnet - there - and shake out my hair - there - you have
+seen this hair before, sir, and this face - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No answer, bebee.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Though the one was not quite so gray, nor the other so wrinkled.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How came they so, bebee?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;All along of this gorgio, child.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The gentleman in the house, you mean, bebee?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, child, the gentleman in the house.&nbsp; God grant that
+I may preserve my temper.&nbsp; Do you know, sir, my name?&nbsp; My
+name is Herne, which signifies a hairy individual, though neither gray-haired
+nor wrinkled.&nbsp; It is not the nature of the Hernes to be gray or
+wrinkled, even when they are old, and I am not old.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How old are you, bebee?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sixty-five years, child - an inconsiderable number.&nbsp; My
+mother was a hundred and one - a considerable age - when she died, yet
+she had not one gray hair, and not more than six wrinkles - an inconsiderable
+number.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;She had no griefs, bebee?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Plenty, child, but not like mine.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not quite so hard to bear, bebee?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, child; my head wanders when I think of them.&nbsp; After
+the death of my husband, who came to his end untimeously, I went to
+live with a daughter of mine, married out among certain Romans who walk
+about the eastern counties, and with whom for some time I found a home
+and pleasant society, for they lived right Romanly, which gave my heart
+considerable satisfaction, who am a Roman born, and hope to die so.&nbsp;
+When I say right Romanly, I mean that they kept to themselves, and were
+not much given to blabbing about their private matters in promiscuous
+company.&nbsp; Well, things went on in this way for some time, when
+one day my son-in-law brings home a young gorgio of singular and outrageous
+ugliness, and, without much preamble, says to me and mine, &ldquo;This
+is my pal, ain&rsquo;t he a beauty? fall down and worship him.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Hold,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;I for one will never consent to such
+foolishness.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That was right, bebee, I think I should have done the same.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I think you would, child; but what was the profit of it?&nbsp;
+The whole party makes an almighty of this gorgio, lets him into their
+ways, says prayers of his making, till things come to such a pass that
+my own daughter says to me, &ldquo;I shall buy myself a veil and fan,
+and treat myself to a play and sacrament.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t,&rdquo;
+says I; says she, &ldquo;I should like for once in my life to be courtesied
+to as a Christian gentlewoman.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very foolish of her, bebee.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Wasn&rsquo;t it, child?&nbsp; Where was I?&nbsp; At the fan and
+sacrament; with a heavy heart I put seven score miles between us, came
+back to the hairy ones, and found them over-given to gorgious companions;
+said I, &ldquo;Foolish manners is catching; all this comes of that there
+gorgio.&rdquo;&nbsp; Answers the child Leonora, &ldquo;Take comfort,
+bebee; I hate the gorgios as much as you do.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And I say so again, bebee, as much or more.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Time flows on, I engage in many matters, in most miscarry.&nbsp;
+Am sent to prison; says I to myself, I am become foolish.&nbsp; Am turned
+out of prison, and go back to the hairy ones, who receive me not over
+courteously; says I, for their unkindness, and my own foolishness, all
+the thanks to that gorgio.&nbsp; Answers to me the child, &ldquo;I wish
+I could set eyes upon him, bebee.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I did so, bebee; go on.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&ldquo;How shall I know him, bebee?&rdquo; says the child.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Young and gray, tall, and speaks Romanly.&rdquo;&nbsp; Runs to
+me the child, and says, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve found him, bebee.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Where, child?&rdquo; says I.&nbsp; &ldquo;Come with me, bebee,&rdquo;
+says the child.&nbsp; &ldquo;That&rsquo;s he,&rdquo; says I, as I looked
+at my gentleman through the hedge.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ha, ha! bebee, and here he lies, poisoned like a hog.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You have taken drows, sir,&rsquo; said Mrs. Herne; &lsquo;do
+you hear, sir? drows; tip him a stave, child, of the song of poison.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And thereupon the girl clapped her hands, and sang -<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Rommany churl<br>
+And the Rommany girl<br>
+To-morrow shall hie<br>
+To poison the sty,<br>
+And bewitch on the mead<br>
+The farmer&rsquo;s steed.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you hear that, sir?&rsquo; said Mrs. Herne; &lsquo;the child
+has tipped you a stave of the song of poison: that is, she has sung
+it Christianly, though perhaps you would like to hear it Romanly; you
+were always fond of what was Roman.&nbsp; Tip it him Romanly, child.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He has heard it Romanly already, bebee; &rsquo;twas by that I
+found him out, as I told you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Halloo, sir, are you sleeping? you have taken drows; the gentleman
+makes no answer.&nbsp; God give me patience!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what if he doesn&rsquo;t, bebee; isn&rsquo;t he poisoned
+like a hog?&nbsp; Gentleman, indeed! why call him gentleman? if he ever
+was one he&rsquo;s broke, and is now a tinker, a worker of blue metal.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s his way, child, to-day a tinker, to-morrow something
+else; and as for being drabbed, I don&rsquo;t know what to say about
+it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not drabbed! what do you mean, bebee? but look there, bebee;
+ha, ha, look at the gentleman&rsquo;s motions.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He is sick, child, sure enough.&nbsp; Ho, ho! sir, you have taken
+drows; what, another throe! writhe, sir, writhe; the hog died by the
+drow of gypsies; I saw him stretched at evening.&nbsp; That&rsquo;s
+yourself, sir.&nbsp; There is no hope, sir, no help, you have taken
+drow; shall I tell you your fortune, sir, your dukkerin?&nbsp; God bless
+you, pretty gentleman, much trouble will you have to suffer, and much
+water to cross; but never mind, pretty gentleman, you shall be fortunate
+at the end, and those who hate shall take off their hats to you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hey, bebee!&rsquo; cried the girl; &lsquo;what is this? what
+do you mean? you have blessed the gorgio!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Blessed him! no, sure; what did I say?&nbsp; Oh, I remember,
+I&rsquo;m mad; well, I can&rsquo;t help it, I said what the dukkerin
+dook told me; woe&rsquo;s me, he&rsquo;ll get up yet.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nonsense, bebee!&nbsp; Look at his motions, he&rsquo;s drabbed,
+spite of dukkerin.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t say so, child; he&rsquo;s sick, &rsquo;tis true,
+but don&rsquo;t laugh at dukkerin, only folks do that that know no better.&nbsp;
+I, for one, will never laugh at the dukkerin dook.&nbsp; Sick again;
+I wish he was gone.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He&rsquo;ll soon be gone, bebee; let&rsquo;s leave him.&nbsp;
+He&rsquo;s as good as gone; look there, he&rsquo;s dead.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, he&rsquo;s not, he&rsquo;ll get up - I feel it; can&rsquo;t
+we hasten him?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hasten him! yes, to be sure; set the dog upon him.&nbsp; Here,
+juggal, look in there, my dog.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The dog made its appearance at the door of the tent, and began to bark
+and tear up the ground.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;At him, juggal, at him; he wished to poison, to drab you.&nbsp;
+Halloo!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The dog barked violently, and seemed about to spring at my face, but
+retreated.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The dog won&rsquo;t fly at him, child; he flashed at the dog
+with his eye, and scared him.&nbsp; He&rsquo;ll get up.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nonsense, bebee! you make me angry; how should he get up?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The dook tells me so, and, what&rsquo;s more, I had a dream.&nbsp;
+I thought I was at York, standing amidst a crowd to see a man hung,
+and the crowd shouted, &ldquo;There he comes!&rdquo; and I looked, and,
+lo! it was the tinker; before I could cry with joy I was whisked away,
+and I found myself in Ely&rsquo;s big church, which was chock full of
+people to hear the dean preach, and all eyes were turned to the big
+pulpit; and presently I heard them say, &ldquo;There he mounts!&rdquo;
+and I looked up to the big pulpit, and, lo! the tinker was in the pulpit,
+and he raised his arm and began to preach.&nbsp; Anon, I found myself
+at York again, just as the drop fell, and I looked up, and I saw not
+the tinker, but my own self hanging in the air.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are going mad, bebee; if you want to hasten him, take your
+stick and poke him in the eye.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That will be of no use, child, the dukkerin tells me so; but
+I will try what I can do.&nbsp; Halloo, tinker! you must introduce yourself
+into a quiet family, and raise confusion - must you?&nbsp; You must
+steal its language, and, what was never done before, write it down Christianly
+- must you?&nbsp; Take that - and that&rsquo;; and she stabbed violently
+with her stick towards the end of the tent.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s right, bebee, you struck his face; now once more,
+and let it be in the eye.&nbsp; Stay, what&rsquo;s that? get up, bebee.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s the matter, child?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Some one is coming, come away.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Let me make sure of him, child; he&rsquo;ll be up yet.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+And thereupon Mrs. Herne, rising, leaned forward into the tent, and,
+supporting herself against the pole, took aim in the direction of the
+farther end.&nbsp; &lsquo;I will thrust out his eye,&rsquo; said she;
+and, lunging with her stick, she would probably have accomplished her
+purpose had not at that moment the pole of the tent given way, whereupon
+she fell to the ground, the canvas falling upon her and her intended
+victim.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Here&rsquo;s a pretty affair, bebee,&rsquo; screamed the girl.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He&rsquo;ll get up, yet,&rsquo; said Mrs. Herne, from beneath
+the canvas.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Get up! - get up yourself; where are you? where is your - Here,
+there, bebee, here&rsquo;s the door; there, make haste, they are coming.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He&rsquo;ll get up yet,&rsquo; said Mrs. Herne, recovering her
+breath; &lsquo;the dock tells me so.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never mind him or the dook; he is drabbed; come away, or we shall
+be grabbed - both of us.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One more blow, I know where his head lies.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are mad, bebee; leave the fellow - gorgio avella.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And thereupon the females hurried away.<br>
+<br>
+A vehicle of some kind was evidently drawing nigh; in a little time
+it came alongside of the place where lay the fallen tent, and stopped
+suddenly.&nbsp; There was a silence for a moment, and then a parley
+ensued between two voices, one of which was that of a woman.&nbsp; It
+was not in English, but in a deep guttural tongue.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Peth yw hono sydd yn gorwedd yna ar y ddaear?&rsquo; said a masculine
+voice.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yn wirionedd - I do not know what it can be,&rsquo; said the
+female voice, in the same tongue.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Here is a cart, and there are tools; but what is that on the
+ground?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Something moves beneath it; and what was that - a groan?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Shall I get down?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Of course, Peter, some one may want your help?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then I will get down, though I do not like this place; it is
+frequented by Egyptians, and I do not like their yellow faces, nor their
+clibberty clabber, as Master Ellis Wyn says.&nbsp; Now I am down.&nbsp;
+It is a tent, Winifred, and see, here is a boy beneath it.&nbsp; Merciful
+father! what a face.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+A middle-aged man, with a strongly marked and serious countenance, dressed
+in sober-coloured habiliments, had lifted up the stifling folds of the
+tent, and was bending over me.&nbsp; &lsquo;Can you speak, my lad?&rsquo;
+said he in English; &lsquo;what is the matter with you? if you could
+but tell me, I could perhaps help you - &rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;What is
+that you say?&nbsp; I can&rsquo;t hear you.&nbsp; I will kneel down&rsquo;;
+and he flung himself on the ground, and placed his ear close to my mouth.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Now speak if you can.&nbsp; Hey! what! no, sure, God forbid!&rsquo;
+then starting up, he cried to a female who sat in the cart, anxiously
+looking on - &lsquo;Gwenwyn! gwenwyn! yw y gwas wedi ei gwenwynaw.&nbsp;
+The oil!&nbsp; Winifred, the oil!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Desired effect - The three oaks - Winifred - Things of time - With God&rsquo;s
+will - The preacher - Creature comforts - Croesaw - Welsh and English
+- Mayor of Chester.<br>
+<br>
+The oil, which the strangers compelled me to take, produced the desired
+effect, though, during at least two hours, it was very doubtful whether
+or not my life would be saved.&nbsp; At the end of that period the man
+said that with the blessing of God he would answer for my life.&nbsp;
+He then demanded whether I thought I could bear to be removed from the
+place in which we were; &lsquo;for I like it not,&rsquo; he continued,
+&lsquo;as something within me tells me that it is not good for any of
+us to be here.&rsquo;&nbsp; I told him, as well as I was able, that
+I, too, should be glad to leave the place; whereupon, after collecting
+my things, he harnessed my pony, and, with the assistance of the woman,
+he contrived to place me in the cart; he then gave me a draught out
+of a small phial, and we set forward at a slow pace, the man walking
+by the side of the cart in which I lay.&nbsp; It is probable that the
+draught consisted of a strong opiate, for after swallowing it I fell
+into a deep slumber; on my awaking, I found that the shadows of night
+had enveloped the earth - we were still moving on.&nbsp; Shortly, however,
+after descending a declivity, we turned into a lane, at the entrance
+of which was a gate.&nbsp; This lane conducted to a meadow, through
+the middle of which ran a small brook; it stood between two rising grounds;
+that on the left, which was on the farther side of the water, was covered
+with wood, whilst the one on the right, which was not so high, was crowned
+with the white walls of what appeared to be a farmhouse.<br>
+<br>
+Advancing along the meadow, we presently came to a place where grew
+three immense oaks, almost on the side of the brook, over which they
+flung their arms, so as to shade it as with a canopy; the ground beneath
+was bare of grass, and nearly as hard and smooth as the floor of a barn.&nbsp;
+Having led his own cart on one side of the midmost tree, and my own
+on the other, the stranger said to me, &lsquo;This is the spot where
+my wife and myself generally tarry in the summer season, when we come
+into these parts.&nbsp; We are about to pass the night here.&nbsp; I
+suppose you will have no objection to do the same?&nbsp; Indeed, I do
+not see what else you could do under present circumstances.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+After receiving my answer, in which I, of course, expressed my readiness
+to assent to his proposal, he proceeded to unharness his horse, and,
+feeling myself much better, I got down, and began to make the necessary
+preparations for passing the night beneath the oak.<br>
+<br>
+Whilst thus engaged, I felt myself touched on the shoulder, and, looking
+round, perceived the woman, whom the stranger called Winifred, standing
+close to me.&nbsp; The moon was shining brightly upon her, and I observed
+that she was very good-looking, with a composed yet cheerful expression
+of countenance; her dress was plain and primitive, very much resembling
+that of a Quaker.&nbsp; She held a straw bonnet in her hand.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+am glad to see thee moving about, young man,&rsquo; said she, in a soft,
+placid tone; &lsquo;I could scarcely have expected it.&nbsp; Thou must
+be wondrous strong; many, after what thou hast suffered, would not have
+stood on their feet for weeks and months.&nbsp; What do I say? - Peter,
+my husband, who is skilled in medicine, just now told me that not one
+in five hundred would have survived what thou hast this day undergone;
+but allow me to ask thee one thing, Hast thou returned thanks to God
+for thy deliverance?&rsquo;&nbsp; I made no answer, and the woman, after
+a pause, said, &lsquo;Excuse me, young man, but do you know anything
+of God?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Very little,&rsquo; I replied, &lsquo;but
+I should say He must be a wondrous strong person, if He made all those
+big bright things up above there, to say nothing of the ground on which
+we stand, which bears beings like these oaks, each of which is fifty
+times as strong as myself, and will live twenty times as long.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+The woman was silent for some moments, and then said, &lsquo;I scarcely
+know in what spirit thy words are uttered.&nbsp; If thou art serious,
+however, I would caution thee against supposing that the power of God
+is more manifested in these trees, or even in those bright stars above
+us, than in thyself - they are things of time, but thou art a being
+destined to an eternity; it depends upon thyself whether thy eternity
+shall be one of joy or sorrow.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Here she was interrupted by the man, who exclaimed from the other side
+of the tree, &lsquo;Winifred, it is getting late, you had better go
+up to the house on the hill to inform our friends of our arrival, or
+they will have retired for the night.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;True,&rsquo;
+said Winifred, and forthwith wended her way to the house in question,
+returning shortly with another woman, whom the man, speaking in the
+same language which I had heard him first use, greeted by the name of
+Mary; the woman replied in the same tongue, but almost immediately said,
+in English, &lsquo;We hoped to have heard you speak to-night, Peter,
+but we cannot expect that now, seeing that it is so late, owing to your
+having been detained by the way, as Winifred tells me; nothing remains
+for you to do now but to sup - to-morrow, with God&rsquo;s will, we
+shall hear you.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;And to-night, also, with God&rsquo;s
+will, provided you be so disposed.&nbsp; Let those of your family come
+hither.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;They will be hither presently,&rsquo; said
+Mary, &lsquo;for knowing that thou art arrived, they will, of course,
+come and bid thee welcome.&rsquo;&nbsp; And scarcely had she spoke,
+when I beheld a party of people descending the moonlit side of the hill.&nbsp;
+They soon arrived at the place where we were; they might amount in all
+to twelve individuals.&nbsp; The principal person was a tall, athletic
+man, of about forty, dressed like a plain country farmer; this was,
+I soon found, the husband of Mary; the rest of the group consisted of
+the children of these two, and their domestic servants.&nbsp; One after
+another they all shook Peter by the hand, men and women, boys and girls,
+and expressed their joy at seeing him.&nbsp; After which he said, &lsquo;Now,
+friends, if you please, I will speak a few words to you.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+A stool was then brought him from the cart, which he stepped on, and
+the people arranging themselves round him, some standing, some seated
+on the ground, he forthwith began to address them in a clear, distinct
+voice; and the subject of his discourse was the necessity, in all human
+beings, of a change of heart.<br>
+<br>
+The preacher was better than his promise, for, instead of speaking a
+few words, he preached for at least three-quarters of an hour; none
+of the audience, however, showed the slightest symptom of weariness;
+on the contrary, the hope of each individual appeared to hang upon the
+words which proceeded from his mouth.&nbsp; At the conclusion of the
+sermon or discourse the whole assembly again shook Peter by the hand,
+and returned to their house, the mistress of the family saying, as she
+departed, &lsquo;I shall soon be back, Peter; I go but to make arrangements
+for the supper of thyself and company&rsquo;; and, in effect, she presently
+returned, attended by a young woman, who bore a tray in her hands.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Set it down, Jessy,&rsquo; said the mistress to the girl, &lsquo;and
+then betake thyself to thy rest, I shall remain here for a little time
+to talk with my friends.&rsquo;&nbsp; The girl departed, and the preacher
+and the two females placed themselves on the ground about the tray.&nbsp;
+The man gave thanks, and himself and his wife appeared to be about to
+eat, when the latter suddenly placed her hand upon his arm, and said
+something to him in a low voice, whereupon he exclaimed, &lsquo;Ay,
+truly, we were both forgetful&rsquo;; and then getting up, he came towards
+me, who stood a little way off, leaning against the wheel of my cart;
+and, taking me by the hand, he said, &lsquo;Pardon us, young man, we
+were both so engaged in our own creature-comforts, that we forgot thee,
+but it is not too late to repair our fault; wilt thou not join us, and
+taste our bread and milk?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I cannot eat,&rsquo; I
+replied, &lsquo;but I think I could drink a little milk&rsquo;; whereupon
+he led me to the rest, and seating me by his side, he poured some milk
+into a horn cup, saying, &lsquo;&ldquo;Croesaw.&rdquo;&nbsp; That,&rsquo;
+added he, with a smile, &lsquo;is Welsh for welcome.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The fare upon the tray was of the simplest description, consisting of
+bread, cheese, milk, and curds.&nbsp; My two friends partook with a
+good appetite.&nbsp; &lsquo;Mary,&rsquo; said the preacher, addressing
+himself to the woman of the house, &lsquo;every time I come to visit
+thee, I find thee less inclined to speak Welsh.&nbsp; I suppose, in
+a little time, thou wilt entirely have forgotten it; hast thou taught
+it to any of thy children?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;The two eldest understand
+a few words,&rsquo; said the woman, &lsquo;but my husband does not wish
+them to learn it; he says sometimes, jocularly, that though it pleased
+him to marry a Welsh wife, it does not please him to have Welsh children.&nbsp;
+Who, I have heard him say, would be a Welshman, if he could be an Englishman?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I for one,&rsquo; said the preacher, somewhat hastily; &lsquo;not
+to be king of all England would I give up my birthright as a Welshman.&nbsp;
+Your husband is an excellent person, Mary, but I am afraid he is somewhat
+prejudiced.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You do him justice, Peter, in saying
+that he is an excellent person,&rsquo; sail the woman; &lsquo;as to
+being prejudiced, I scarcely know what to say, but he thinks that two
+languages in the same kingdom are almost as bad as two kings.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s no bad observation,&rsquo; said the preacher, &lsquo;and
+it is generally the case; yet, thank God, the Welsh and English go on
+very well, side by side, and I hope will do so till the Almighty calls
+all men to their long account.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;They jog on very
+well now,&rsquo; said the woman; &lsquo;but I have heard my husband
+say that it was not always so, and that the Welsh, in old times, were
+a violent and ferocious people, for that once they hanged the mayor
+of Chester.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Ha, ha!&rsquo; said the preacher, and
+his eyes flashed in the moonlight; &lsquo;he told you that, did he?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Mary; &lsquo;once, when the mayor of Chester,
+with some of his people, was present at one of the fairs over the border,
+a quarrel arose between the Welsh and the English, and the Welsh beat
+the English, and hanged the mayor.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Your husband
+is a clever man,&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;and knows a great deal; did
+he tell you the name of the leader of the Welsh?&nbsp; No! then I will:
+the leader of the Welsh on that occasion was -.&nbsp; He was a powerful
+chieftain, and there was an old feud between him and the men of Chester.&nbsp;
+Afterwards, when two hundred of the men of Chester invaded his country
+to take revenge for their mayor, he enticed them into a tower, set fire
+to it, and burnt them all.&nbsp; That - was a very fine, noble - God
+forgive me, what was I about to say - a very bad, violent man; but,
+Mary, this is very carnal and unprofitable conversation, and in holding
+it we set a very bad example to the young man here - let us change the
+subject.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+They then began to talk on religious matters.&nbsp; At length Mary departed
+to her abode, and the preacher and his wife retired to their tilted
+cart.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Poor fellow, he seems to be almost brutally ignorant,&rsquo;
+said Peter, addressing his wife in their native language, after they
+had bidden me farewell for the night.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am afraid he is,&rsquo; said Winifred, &lsquo;yet my heart
+warms to the poor lad, he seems so forlorn.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Morning hymn - Much alone - John Bunyan - Beholden to nobody - Sixty-five
+- Sober greeting - Early Sabbaths - Finny brood - The porch - No fortune-telling
+- The master&rsquo;s niece - Doing good - Two or three things - Groans
+and voices - Pechod Ysprydd Glan.<br>
+<br>
+I slept soundly during that night, partly owing to the influence of
+the opiate.&nbsp; Early in the morning I was awakened by the voices
+of Peter and his wife, who were singing a morning hymn in their own
+language.&nbsp; Both subsequently prayed long and fervently.&nbsp; I
+lay still till their devotions were completed, and then left my tent.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Good morning,&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;how dost thou feel?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Much better,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;than I could have expected.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I am glad of it,&rsquo; said Peter.&nbsp; &lsquo;Art thou hungry?
+yonder comes our breakfast,&rsquo; pointing to the same young woman
+I had seen the preceding night, who was again descending the hill bearing
+the tray upon her head.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What dust thou intend to do, young man, this day?&rsquo; said
+Peter, when we had about half finished breakfast.&nbsp; &lsquo;Do,&rsquo;
+said I; &lsquo;as I do other days, what I can.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;And
+dost thou pass this day as thou dost other days?&rsquo; said Peter.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Why not?&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;what is there in this day different
+from the rest? it seems to be of the same colour as yesterday.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Art thou aware,&rsquo; said the wife, interposing, &lsquo;what
+day it is? that it is Sabbath? that it is Sunday?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;No,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;I did not know that it was Sunday.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;And
+how did that happen?&rsquo; said Winifred, with a sigh.&nbsp; &lsquo;To
+tell you the truth,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I live very much alone, and
+pay very little heed to the passing of time.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;And
+yet of what infinite importance is time,&rsquo; said Winifred.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Art thou not aware that every year brings thee nearer to thy
+end?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I do not think,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that
+I am so near my end as I was yesterday.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Yes, thou
+art,&rsquo; said the woman; &lsquo;thou wast not doomed to die yesterday;
+an invisible hand was watching over thee yesterday; but thy day will
+come, therefore improve the time; be grateful that thou wast saved yesterday;
+and, oh! reflect on one thing; if thou hadst died yesterday, where wouldst
+thou have been now?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Cast into the earth, perhaps,&rsquo;
+said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;I have heard Mr. Petulengro say that to be cast
+into the earth is the natural end of man.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Who is
+Mr. Petulengro?&rsquo; said Peter, interrupting his wife, as she was
+about to speak.&nbsp; &lsquo;Master of the horse-shoe,&rsquo; said I;
+&lsquo;and, according to his own account, king of Egypt.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I understand,&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;head of some family of
+wandering Egyptians - they are a race utterly godless.&nbsp; Art thou
+of them? - but no, thou art not, thou hast not their yellow blood.&nbsp;
+I suppose thou belongest to the family of wandering artisans called
+-.&nbsp; I do not like you the worse for belonging to them.&nbsp; A
+mighty speaker of old sprang up from amidst that family.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Who was he?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;John Bunyan,&rsquo; replied
+Peter, reverently, &lsquo;and the mention of his name reminds me that
+I have to preach this day; wilt thou go and hear? the distance is not
+great, only half a mile.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I
+will not go and hear.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Wherefore?&rsquo; said Peter.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I belong to the church,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and not to the
+congregations.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Oh! the pride of that church,&rsquo;
+said Peter, addressing his wife in their own tongue, &lsquo;exemplified
+even in the lowest and most ignorant of its members.&nbsp; Then thou,
+doubtless, meanest to go to church,&rsquo; said Peter, again addressing
+me; &lsquo;there is a church on the other side of that wooded hill.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I do not mean to go to church.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;May I ask thee wherefore?&rsquo; said Peter.&nbsp; &lsquo;Because,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;I prefer remaining beneath the shade of these trees,
+listening to the sound of the leaves and the tinkling of the waters.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then thou intendest to remain here?&rsquo; said Peter, looking
+fixedly at me.&nbsp; &lsquo;If I do not intrude,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but
+if I do, I will wander away; I wish to be beholden to nobody - perhaps
+you wish me to go?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;On the contrary,&rsquo; said
+Peter, &lsquo;I wish you to stay.&nbsp; I begin to see something in
+thee which has much interest for me; but we must now bid thee farewell
+for the rest of the day, the time is drawing nigh for us to repair to
+the place of preaching; before we leave thee alone, however, I should
+wish to ask thee a question - Didst thou seek thy own destruction yesterday,
+and didst thou wilfully take that poison?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;No,&rsquo;
+said I; &lsquo;had I known there had been poison in the cake I certainly
+should not have taken it.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;And who gave it thee?&rsquo;
+said Peter.&nbsp; &lsquo;An enemy of mine,&rsquo; I replied.&nbsp; &lsquo;Who
+is thy enemy?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;An Egyptian sorceress and poison-monger.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Thy enemy is a female.&nbsp; I fear thou hadst given her cause
+to hate thee - of what did she complain?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;That I
+had stolen the tongue out of her head.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I do not
+understand thee - is she young?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;About sixty-five.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Here Winifred interposed.&nbsp; &lsquo;Thou didst call her just now
+by hard names, young man,&rsquo; said she; &lsquo;I trust thou dost
+bear no malice against her.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I
+bear no malice against her.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Thou art not wishing
+to deliver her into the hand of what is called justice?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;By no means,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I have lived long enough upon
+the roads not to cry out for the constable when my finger is broken.&nbsp;
+I consider this poisoning as an accident of the roads; one of those
+to which those who travel are occasionally subject.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;In
+short, thou forgivest thine adversary?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Both now
+and for ever,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Truly,&rsquo; said Winifred,
+&lsquo;the spirit which the young man displayeth pleases me much; I
+should be loth that he left us yet.&nbsp; I have no doubt that, with
+the blessing of God, and a little of thy exhortation, he will turn out
+a true Christian before he leaveth us.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;My exhortation!&rsquo;
+said Peter, and a dark shade passed over his countenance; &lsquo;thou
+forgettest what I am - I - I - but I am forgetting myself; the Lord&rsquo;s
+will be done; and now put away the things, for I perceive that our friends
+are coming to attend us to the place of meeting.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Again the family which I had seen the night before descended the hill
+from their abode.&nbsp; They were now dressed in their Sunday&rsquo;s
+best.&nbsp; The master of the house led the way.&nbsp; They presently
+joined us, when a quiet sober greeting ensued on each side.&nbsp; After
+a little time Peter shook me by the hand and bade me farewell till the
+evening; Winifred did the same, adding that she hoped I should be visited
+by sweet and holy thoughts.&nbsp; The whole party then moved off in
+the direction by which we had come the preceding night, Peter and the
+master leading the way, followed by Winifred and the mistress of the
+family.&nbsp; As I gazed on their departing forms, I felt almost inclined
+to follow them to their place of worship.&nbsp; I did not stir, however,
+but remained leaning against my oak with my hands behind me.<br>
+<br>
+And after a time I sat me down at the foot of the oak with my face turned
+towards the water, and, folding my hands, I fell into deep meditation.&nbsp;
+I thought on the early Sabbaths of my life, and the manner in which
+I was wont to pass them.&nbsp; How carefully I said my prayers when
+I got up on the Sabbath morn, and how carefully I combed my hair and
+brushed my clothes in order that I might do credit to the Sabbath day.&nbsp;
+I thought of the old church at pretty D-, the dignified rector, and
+yet more dignified clerk.&nbsp; I though of England&rsquo;s grand Liturgy,
+and Tate and Brady&rsquo;s sonorous minstrelsy.&nbsp; I thought of the
+Holy Book, portions of which I was in the habit of reading between service.&nbsp;
+I thought, too, of the evening walk which I sometimes took in fine weather
+like the present, with my mother and brother - a quiet sober walk, during
+which I would not break into a run, even to chase a butterfly, or yet
+more a honey-bee, being fully convinced of the dread importance of the
+day which God had hallowed.&nbsp; And how glad I was when I had got
+over the Sabbath day without having done anything to profane it.&nbsp;
+And how soundly I slept on the Sabbath night after the toil of being
+very good throughout the day.<br>
+<br>
+And when I had mused on those times a long while, I sighed and said
+to myself, I am much altered since then; am I altered for the better?&nbsp;
+And then I looked at my hands and my apparel, and sighed again.&nbsp;
+I was not wont of yore to appear thus on the Sabbath day.<br>
+<br>
+For a long time I continued in a state of deep meditation, till at last
+I lifted up my eyes to the sun, which, as usual during that glorious
+summer, was shining in unclouded majesty; and then I lowered them to
+the sparkling water, in which hundreds of the finny brood were disporting
+themselves, and then I thought what a fine thing it was to be a fish
+on such a fine summer day, and I wished myself a fish, or at least amongst
+the fishes; and then I looked at my hands again, and then, bending over
+the water, I looked at my face in the crystal mirror, and started when
+I saw it, for it looked squalid and miserable.<br>
+<br>
+Forthwith I started up, and said to myself, I should like to bathe and
+cleanse myself from the squalor produced by my late hard life and by
+Mrs. Herne&rsquo;s drow.&nbsp; I wonder if there is any harm in bathing
+on the Sabbath day.&nbsp; I will ask Winifred when she comes home; in
+the meantime I will bathe, provided I can find a fitting place.<br>
+<br>
+But the brook, though a very delightful place for fish to disport in,
+was shallow, and by no means adapted for the recreation of so large
+a being as myself; it was, moreover, exposed, though I saw nobody at
+hand, nor heard a single human voice or sound.&nbsp; Following the winding
+of the brook, I left the meadow, and, passing through two or three thickets,
+came to a place where between lofty banks the water ran deep and dark,
+and there I bathed, imbibing new tone and vigour into my languid and
+exhausted frame.<br>
+<br>
+Having put on my clothes, I returned by the way I had come to my vehicle
+beneath the oak tree.&nbsp; From thence, for want of something better
+to do, I strolled up the hill, on the top of which stood the farm-house;
+it was a large and commodious building built principally of stone, and
+seeming of some antiquity, with a porch, on either side of which was
+an oaken bench.&nbsp; On the right was seated a young woman with a book
+in her hand, the same who had brought the tray to my friends and myself.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Good-day,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;pretty damsel, sitting in the
+farm porch.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Good-day,&rsquo; said the girl, looking at me for a moment, and
+then fixing her eyes on her book.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s a nice book you are reading,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+The girl looked at me with surprise.&nbsp; &lsquo;How do you know what
+book it is?&rsquo; said she.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How do I know - never mind; but a nice book it is - no love,
+no fortune-telling in it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The girl looked at me half offended.&nbsp; &lsquo;Fortune-telling!&rsquo;
+said she, &lsquo;I should think not.&nbsp; But you know nothing about
+it&rsquo;; and she bent her head once more over the book.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I tell you what, young person,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I know all
+about that book; what will you wager that I do not?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never wager,&rsquo; said the girl.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Shall I tell you the name of it,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;O daughter
+of the dairy? &lsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The girl half started.&nbsp; &lsquo;I should never have thought,&rsquo;
+said she, half timidly, &lsquo;that you could have guessed it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I did not guess it,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I knew it; and meet
+and proper it is that you should read it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why so?&rsquo; said the girl.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Can the daughter of the dairy read a more fitting book than the
+<i>Dairyman&rsquo;s Daughter</i>?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where do you come from?&rsquo; said the girl.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Out of the water,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Don&rsquo;t start,
+I have been bathing; are you fond of the water?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said the girl, heaving a sigh; &lsquo;I am not fond
+of the water, that is, of the sea&rsquo;; and here she sighed again.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The sea is a wide gulf,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and frequently
+separates hearts.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The girl sobbed.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why are you alone here?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I take my turn with the rest,&rsquo; said the girl, &lsquo;to
+keep at home on Sunday.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you are - &rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The master&rsquo;s niece!&rsquo; said the girl.&nbsp; &lsquo;How
+came you to know it?&nbsp; But why did you not go with the rest and
+with your friends?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who are those you call my friends?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Peter and his wife.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And who are they?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you not know?&rsquo; said the girl; &lsquo;you came with them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They found me ill by the way,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;and they
+relieved me: I know nothing about them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I thought you knew everything,&rsquo; said the girl.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There are two or three things which I do not know, and this is
+one of them.&nbsp; Who are they?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did you never hear of the great Welsh preacher, Peter Williams?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the girl, &lsquo;this is he, and Winifred is
+his wife, and a nice person she is.&nbsp; Some people say, indeed, that
+she is as good a preacher as her husband, though of that matter I can
+say nothing, having never heard her preach.&nbsp; So these two wander
+over all Wales and the greater part of England, comforting the hearts
+of the people with their doctrine, and doing all the good they can.&nbsp;
+They frequently come here, for the mistress is a Welsh woman, and an
+old friend of both, and then they take up their abode in the cart beneath
+the old oaks down there by the stream.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what is their reason for doing so?&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;would
+it not be more comfortable to sleep beneath a roof?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I know not their reasons,&rsquo; said the girl, &lsquo;but so
+it is; they never sleep beneath a roof unless the weather is very severe.&nbsp;
+I once heard the mistress say that Peter had something heavy upon his
+mind; perhaps that is the cause.&nbsp; If he is unhappy, all I can say
+is, that I wish him otherwise, for he is a good man and a kind - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thank you,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I will now depart.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hem!&rsquo; said the girl, &lsquo;I was wishing - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What? to ask me a question?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not exactly; but you seem to know everything; you mentioned,
+I think, fortune-telling.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you wish me to tell your fortune?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By no means; but I have a friend at a distance at sea, and I
+should wish to know - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;When he will come back?&nbsp; I have told you already there are
+two or three things which I do not know - this is another of them.&nbsp;
+However, I should not be surprised if he were to come back some of these
+days; I would if I were in his place.&nbsp; In the meantime be patient,
+attend to the dairy, and read the <i>Dairyman&rsquo;s Daughter</i> when
+you have nothing better to do.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+It was late in the evening when the party of the morning returned.&nbsp;
+The farmer and his family repaired at once to their abode, and my two
+friends joined me beneath the tree.&nbsp; Peter sat down at the foot
+of the oak, and said nothing.&nbsp; Supper was brought by a servant,
+not the damsel of the porch.&nbsp; We sat round the tray, Peter said
+grace, but scarcely anything else; he appeared sad and dejected, his
+wife looked anxiously upon him.&nbsp; I was as silent as my friends;
+after a little time we retired to our separate places of rest.<br>
+<br>
+About midnight I was awakened by a noise; I started up and listened;
+it appeared to me that I heard voices and groans.&nbsp; In a moment
+I had issued from my tent - all was silent - but the next moment I again
+heard groans and voices; they proceeded from the tilted cart where Peter
+and his wife lay; I drew near, again there was a pause, and then I heard
+the voice of Peter, in an accent of extreme anguish, exclaim, &lsquo;Pechod
+Ysprydd Glan - O pechod Ysprydd Glan!&rsquo; and then he uttered a deep
+groan.&nbsp; Anon, I heard the voice of Winifred, and never shall I
+forget the sweetness and gentleness of the tones of her voice in the
+stillness of that night.&nbsp; I did not understand all she said - she
+spoke in her native language, and I was some way apart; she appeared
+to endeavour to console her husband, but he seemed to refuse all comfort,
+and, with many groans, repeated - &lsquo;Pechod Ysprydd Glan - O pechod
+Ysprydd Glan!&rsquo;&nbsp; I felt I had no right to pry into their afflictions,
+and retired.<br>
+<br>
+Now &lsquo;pechod Ysprydd Glan,&rsquo; interpreted, is the sin against
+the Holy Ghost.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXIV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The following day - Pride - Thriving trade - Tylwyth Teg - Ellis Wyn
+- Sleeping hard - Incalculable good - Fearful agony - The tale.<br>
+<br>
+Peter and his wife did not proceed on any expedition during the following
+day.&nbsp; The former strolled gloomily about the fields, and the latter
+passed many hours in the farmhouse.&nbsp; Towards evening, without saying
+a word to either, I departed with my vehicle, and finding my way to
+a small town at some distance, I laid in a store of various articles,
+with which I returned.&nbsp; It was night, and my two friends were seated
+beneath the oak; they had just completed their frugal supper.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;We waited for thee some time,&rsquo; said Winifred, &lsquo;but,
+finding that thou didst not come, we began without thee; but sit down,
+I pray thee, there is still enough for thee.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I will
+sit down,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but I require no supper, for I have
+eaten where I have been&rsquo;: nothing more particular occurred at
+the time.&nbsp; Next morning the kind pair invited me to share their
+breakfast.&nbsp; &lsquo;I will not share your breakfast,&rsquo; said
+I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Wherefore not?&rsquo; said Winifred, anxiously.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Because,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;it is not proper that I be beholden
+to you for meat and drink.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;But we are beholden to
+other people,&rsquo; said Winifred.&nbsp; &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I,
+&lsquo;but you preach to them, and give them ghostly advice, which considerably
+alters the matter; not that I would receive anything from them, if I
+preached to them six times a day.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Thou art not fond
+of receiving favours, then, young man,&rsquo; said Winifred.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+am not,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;And of conferring favours?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Nothing affords me greater pleasure,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;than
+to confer favours.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;What a disposition,&rsquo; said
+Winifred, holding up her hands; &lsquo;and this is pride, genuine pride
+- that feeling which the world agrees to call so noble.&nbsp; Oh, how
+mean a thing is pride! never before did I see all the meanness of what
+is called pride!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But how wilt thou live, friend,&rsquo; said Peter; &lsquo;dost
+thou not intend to eat?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;When I went out last night,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;I laid in a provision.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Thou hast
+laid in a provision!&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;pray let us see it.&nbsp;
+Really, friend,&rsquo; said he, after I had produced it, &lsquo;thou
+must drive a thriving trade; here are provisions enough to last three
+people for several days.&nbsp; Here are butter and eggs, here is tea,
+here is sugar, and there is a flitch.&nbsp; I hope thou wilt let us
+partake of some of thy fare.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I should be very happy
+if you would,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Doubt not but we shall,&rsquo;
+said Peter; &lsquo;Winifred shall have some of thy flitch cooked for
+dinner.&nbsp; In the meantime, sit down, young man, and breakfast at
+our expense - we will dine at thine.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+On the evening of that day, Peter and myself sat alone beneath the oak.&nbsp;
+We fell into conversation; Peter was at first melancholy, but he soon
+became more cheerful, fluent, and entertaining.&nbsp; I spoke but little;
+but I observed that sometimes what I said surprised the good Methodist.&nbsp;
+We had been silent some time.&nbsp; At length, lifting up my eyes to
+the broad and leafy canopy of the trees, I said, having nothing better
+to remark, &lsquo;What a noble tree!&nbsp; I wonder if the fairies ever
+dance beneath it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Fairies!&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;fairies! how came you, young
+man, to know anything about the fair family?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am an Englishman,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and of course know
+something about fairies; England was once a famous place for them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Was once, I grant you,&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;but is so no
+longer.&nbsp; I have travelled for years about England, and never heard
+them mentioned before; the belief in them has died away, and even their
+name seems to be forgotten.&nbsp; If you had said you were a Welshman,
+I should not have been surprised.&nbsp; The Welsh have much to say of
+the Tylwyth Teg, or fair family, and many believe in them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And do you believe in them?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I scarcely know what to say.&nbsp; Wise and good men have been
+of opinion that they are nothing but devils, who, under the form of
+pretty and amiable spirits, would fain allure poor human beings; I see
+nothing irrational in the supposition.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you believe in devils, then?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do I believe in devils, young man?&rsquo; said Peter, and his
+frame was shaken as if by convulsions.&nbsp; &lsquo;If I do not believe
+in devils, why am I here at the present moment?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You know best,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but I don&rsquo;t believe
+that fairies are devils, and I don&rsquo;t wish to hear them insulted.&nbsp;
+What learned men have said they are devils?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Many have said it, young man, and, amongst others, Master Ellis
+Wyn, in that wonderful book of his, the <i>Bardd Cwsg</i>.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The<i> Bardd Cwsg</i>,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;what kind of book
+is that?&nbsp; I have never heard of that book before.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Heard of it before; I suppose not; how should you have heard
+of it before?&nbsp; By the bye, can you read?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very tolerably,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;so there are fairies in
+this book.&nbsp; What do you call it - the <i>Bardd Cwsg</i>?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, the <i>Bardd Cwsg</i>.&nbsp; You pronounce Welsh very fairly;
+have you ever been in Wales?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not been in Wales; then, of course, you don&rsquo;t understand
+Welsh; but we were talking of the <i>Bardd Cwsg</i> - yes, there are
+fairies in the <i>Bardd Cwsg</i>, - the author of it, Master Ellis Wyn,
+was carried away in his sleep by them over mountains and valleys, rivers
+and great waters, incurring mighty perils at their hands, till he was
+rescued from them by an angel of the Most High, who subsequently showed
+him many wonderful things.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I beg your pardon,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but what were those
+wonderful things?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I see, young man,&rsquo; said Peter, smiling, &lsquo;that you
+are not without curiosity; but I can easily pardon any one for being
+curious about the wonders contained in the book of Master Ellis Wyn.&nbsp;
+The angel showed him the course of this world, its pomps and vanities,
+its cruelty and its pride, its crimes and deceits.&nbsp; On another
+occasion, the angel showed him Death in his nether palace, surrounded
+by his grisly ministers, and by those who are continually falling victims
+to his power.&nbsp; And, on a third occasion, the state of the condemned
+in their place of everlasting torment.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But this was all in his sleep,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;was it not?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;in his sleep; and on that account
+the book is called <i>Gweledigaethau y Bardd Cwsg</i>, or, <i>Visions
+of</i> <i>the Sleeping Bard</i>.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not care for wonders which occur in sleep,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I prefer real ones; and perhaps, notwithstanding what he says,
+the man had no visions at all - they are probably of his own invention.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They are substantially true, young man,&rsquo; said Peter; &lsquo;like
+the dreams of Bunyan, they are founded on three tremendous facts, Sin,
+Death, and Hell; and like his they have done incalculable good, at least
+in my own country, in the language of which they are written.&nbsp;
+Many a guilty conscience has the <i>Bardd Cwsg</i> aroused with its
+dreadful sights, its strong sighs, its puffs of smoke from the pit,
+and its showers of sparks from the mouth of the yet lower gulf of -
+Unknown - were it not for the <i>Bardd Cwsg</i> perhaps I might not
+be here.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I would sooner hear your own tale,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;than
+all the visions of the <i>Bardd Cwsg</i>.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Peter shook, bent his form nearly double, and covered his face with
+his hands.&nbsp; I sat still and motionless, with my eyes fixed upon
+him.&nbsp; Presently Winifred descended the hill, and joined us.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;What is the matter?&rsquo; said she, looking at her husband,
+who still remained in the posture I have described.&nbsp; He made no
+answer; whereupon, laying her hand gently on his shoulder, she said,
+in the peculiar soft and tender tone which I had heard her use on a
+former occasion, &lsquo;Take comfort, Peter; what has happened now to
+afflict thee?&rsquo;&nbsp; Peter removed his hand from his face.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;The old pain, the old pain,&rsquo; said he; &lsquo;I was talking
+with this young man, and he would fain know what brought me here, he
+would fain hear my tale, Winifred - my sin: O pechod Ysprydd Glan!&nbsp;
+O pechod Ysprydd Glan!&rsquo; and the poor man fell into a more fearful
+agony than before.&nbsp; Tears trickled down Winifred&rsquo;s face,
+I saw them trickling by the moonlight, as she gazed upon the writhing
+form of her afflicted husband.&nbsp; I arose from my seat.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+am the cause of all this,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;by my folly and imprudence,
+and it is thus I have returned your kindness and hospitality; I will
+depart from you and wander my way.&rsquo;&nbsp; I was retiring, but
+Peter sprang up and detained me.&nbsp; &lsquo;Go not,&rsquo; said he,
+&lsquo;you were not in fault; if there be any fault in the case it was
+mine; if I suffer, I am but paying the penalty of my own iniquity&rsquo;;
+he then paused, and appeared to be considering: at length he said, &lsquo;Many
+things which thou hast seen and heard connected with me require explanation;
+thou wishest to know my tale, I will tell it thee, but not now, not
+to-night; I am too much shaken.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Two evenings later, when we were again seated beneath the oak, Peter
+took the hand of his wife in his own, and then, in tones broken and
+almost inarticulate, commenced telling me his tale - the tale of the
+Pechod Ysprydd Glan.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Taking a cup - Getting to heaven - After breakfast -&nbsp; Wooden gallery
+- Mechanical habit - Reserved and gloomy - Last words - A long time
+- From the clouds - Ray of hope - Momentary chill - Pleasing anticipation.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was born in the heart of North Wales, the son of a respectable
+farmer, and am the youngest of seven brothers.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My father was a member of the Church of England, and was what
+is generally called a serious man.&nbsp; He went to church regularly,
+and read the Bible every Sunday evening; in his moments of leisure he
+was fond of holding religious discourse both with his family and his
+neighbours.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One autumn afternoon, on a week day, my father sat with one of
+his neighbours taking a cup of ale by the oak table in our stone kitchen.&nbsp;
+I sat near them, and listened to their discourse.&nbsp; I was at that
+time seven years of age.&nbsp; They were talking of religious matters.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;It is a hard matter to get to heaven,&rdquo; said my father.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Exceedingly so,&rdquo; said the other.&nbsp; &ldquo;However,
+I don&rsquo;t despond; none need despair of getting to heaven, save
+those who have committed the sin against the Holy Ghost.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said my father, &ldquo;thank God I never committed
+that - how awful must be the state of a person who has committed the
+sin against the Holy Ghost.&nbsp; I can scarcely think of it without
+my hair standing on end&rdquo;; and then my father and his friend began
+talking of the nature of the sin against the Holy Ghost, and I heard
+them say what it was, as I sat with greedy ears listening to their discourse.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I lay awake the greater part of the night musing upon what I
+had heard.&nbsp; I kept wondering to myself what must be the state of
+a person who had committed the sin against the Holy Ghost, and how he
+must feel.&nbsp; Once or twice I felt a strong inclination to commit
+it, a strange kind of fear, however, prevented me; at last I determined
+not to commit it, and, having said my prayers, I fell asleep.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;When I awoke in the morning the first thing I thought of was
+the mysterious sin, and a voice within me seemed to say, &ldquo;Commit
+it&rdquo;; and I felt a strong temptation to do so, even stronger than
+in the night.&nbsp; I was just about to yield, when the same dread,
+of which I have already spoken, came over me, and, springing out of
+bed, I went down on my knees.&nbsp; I slept in a small room alone, to
+which I ascended by a wooden stair, open to the sky.&nbsp; I have often
+thought since that it is not a good thing for children to sleep alone.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;After breakfast I went to school, and endeavoured to employ myself
+upon my tasks, but all in vain; I could think of nothing but the sin
+against the Holy Ghost; my eyes, instead of being fixed upon my book,
+wandered in vacancy.&nbsp; My master observed my inattention, and chid
+me.&nbsp; The time came for saying my task, and I had not acquired it.&nbsp;
+My master reproached me, and, yet more, he beat me; I felt shame and
+anger, and I went home with a full determination to commit the sin against
+the Holy Ghost.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But when I got home my father ordered me to do something connected
+with the farm, so that I was compelled to exert myself; I was occupied
+till night, and was so busy that I almost forgot the sin and my late
+resolution.&nbsp; My work completed, I took my supper, and went to my
+room; I began my prayers, and, when they were ended, I thought of the
+sin, but the temptation was slight, I felt very tired, and was presently
+asleep.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thus, you see, I had plenty of time allotted me by a gracious
+and kind God to reflect on what I was about to do.&nbsp; He did not
+permit the enemy of souls to take me by surprise, and to hurry me at
+once into the commission of that which was to be my ruin here and hereafter.&nbsp;
+Whatever I did was of my own free will, after I had had time to reflect.&nbsp;
+Thus God is justified; He had no hand in my destruction, but, on the
+contrary, He did all that was compatible with justice to prevent it.&nbsp;
+I hasten to the fatal moment.&nbsp; Awaking in the night, I determined
+that nothing should prevent my committing the sin.&nbsp; Arising from
+my bed, I went out upon the wooden gallery; and having stood for a few
+moments looking at the stars, with which the heavens were thickly strewn,
+I laid myself down, and supporting my face with my hand, I murmured
+out words of horror, words not to be repeated, and in this manner I
+committed the sin against the Holy Ghost.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;When the words were uttered I sat up upon the topmost step of
+the gallery; for some time I felt stunned in somewhat the same manner
+as I once subsequently felt after being stung by an adder.&nbsp; I soon
+arose, however, and retired to my bed, where, notwithstanding what I
+had done, I was not slow in falling asleep.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I awoke several times during the night, each time with the dim
+idea that something strange and monstrous had occurred, but I presently
+fell asleep again; in the morning I awoke with the same vague feeling,
+but presently recollection returned, and I remembered that I had committed
+the sin against the Holy Ghost.&nbsp; I lay musing for some time on
+what I had done, and I felt rather stunned, as before; at last I arose
+and got out of bed, dressed myself, and then went down on my knees,
+and was about to pray from the force of mechanical habit; before I said
+a word, however, I recollected myself, and got up again.&nbsp; What
+was the use of praying?&nbsp; I thought; I had committed the sin against
+the Holy Ghost.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I went to school, but sat stupefied.&nbsp; I was again chidden,
+again beaten, by my master.&nbsp; I felt no anger this time, and scarcely
+heeded the strokes.&nbsp; I looked, however, at my master&rsquo;s face,
+and thought to myself, you are beating me for being idle, as you suppose;
+poor man, what would you do if you knew I had committed the sin against
+the Holy Ghost?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Days and weeks passed by.&nbsp; I had once been cheerful, and
+fond of the society of children of my own age; but I was now reserved
+and gloomy.&nbsp; It seemed to me that a gulf separated me from all
+my fellow-creatures.&nbsp; I used to look at my brothers and schoolfellows,
+and think how different I was from them; they had not done what I had.&nbsp;
+I seemed, in my own eyes, a lone monstrous being, and yet, strange to
+say, I felt a kind of pride in being so.&nbsp; I was unhappy, but I
+frequently thought to myself, I have done what no one else would dare
+to do; there was something grand in the idea; I had yet to learn the
+horror of my condition.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Time passed on, and I began to think less of what I had done;
+I began once more to take pleasure in my childish sports; I was active,
+and excelled at football and the like all the lads of my age.&nbsp;
+I likewise began, what I had never done before, to take pleasure in
+the exercises of the school.&nbsp; I made great progress in Welsh and
+English grammar, and learnt to construe Latin.&nbsp; My master no longer
+chid or beat me, but one day told my father that he had no doubt that
+one day I should be an honour to Wales.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Shortly after this my father fell sick; the progress of the disorder
+was rapid; feeling his end approaching, he called his children before
+him.&nbsp; After tenderly embracing us, he said &ldquo;God bless you,
+my children, I am going from you, but take comfort, I trust that we
+shall all meet again in heaven.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As he uttered these last words, horror took entire possession
+of me.&nbsp; Meet my father in heaven, - how could I ever hope to meet
+him there?&nbsp; I looked wildly at my brethren and at my mother; they
+were all bathed in tears, but how I envied them.&nbsp; They might hope
+to meet my father in heaven, but how different were they from me, they
+had never committed the unpardonable sin.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In a few days my father died; he left his family in comfortable
+circumstances, at least such as would be considered so in Wales, where
+the wants of the people are few.&nbsp; My elder brother carried on the
+farm for the benefit of my mother and us all.&nbsp; In course of time
+my brothers were put out to various trades.&nbsp; I still remained at
+school, but without being a source of expense to my relations, as I
+was by this time able to assist my master in the business of the school.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was diligent both in self-improvement and in the instruction
+of others; nevertheless, a horrible weight pressed upon my breast; I
+knew I was a lost being; that for me there was no hope; that, though
+all others might be saved, I must of necessity be lost; I had committed
+the unpardonable sin, for which I was doomed to eternal punishment,
+in the flaming gulf, as soon as life was over! - and how long could
+I hope to live? perhaps fifty years; at the end of which I must go to
+my place; and then I would count the months and the days, nay, even
+the hours, which yet intervened between me and my doom.&nbsp; Sometimes
+I would comfort myself with the idea that a long time would elapse before
+my time would be out; but then again I thought that, however long the
+term might be, it must be out at last; and then I would fall into an
+agony, during which I would almost wish that the term were out, and
+that I were in my place; the horrors of which I thought could scarcely
+be worse than what I then endured.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There was one thought about this time which caused me unutterable
+grief and shame, perhaps more shame than grief.&nbsp; It was that my
+father, who was gone to heaven, and was there daily holding communion
+with his God, was by this time aware of my crime.&nbsp; I imagined him
+looking down from the clouds upon his wretched son, with a countenance
+of inexpressible horror.&nbsp; When this idea was upon me, I would often
+rush to some secret place to hide myself; to some thicket, where I would
+cast myself on the ground, and thrust my head into a thick bush, in
+order to escape from the horror-struck glance of my father above in
+the clouds; and there I would continue groaning till the agony had,
+in some degree, passed away.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The wretchedness of my state increasing daily, it at last became
+apparent to the master of the school, who questioned me earnestly and
+affectionately.&nbsp; I, however, gave him no satisfactory answer, being
+apprehensive that, if I unbosomed myself, I should become as much an
+object of horror to him as I had long been to myself.&nbsp; At length
+he suspected that I was unsettled in my intellects; and, fearing probably
+the ill effect of my presence upon his scholars, he advised me to go
+home; which I was glad to do, as I felt myself every day becoming less
+qualified for the duties of the office which I had undertaken.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So I returned home to my mother and my brother, who received
+me with the greatest kindness and affection.&nbsp; I now determined
+to devote myself to husbandry, and assist my brother in the business
+of the farm.&nbsp; I was still, however, very much distressed.&nbsp;
+One fine morning, however, as I was at work in the field, and the birds
+were carolling around me, a ray of hope began to break upon my poor
+dark soul.&nbsp; I looked at the earth and looked at the sky, and felt
+as I had not done for many a year; presently a delicious feeling stole
+over me.&nbsp; I was beginning to enjoy existence.&nbsp; I shall never
+forget that hour.&nbsp; I flung myself on the soil, and kissed it; then,
+springing up with a sudden impulse, I rushed into the depths of a neighbouring
+wood, and, falling upon my knees, did what I had not done for a long,
+long time - prayed to God.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A change, an entire change, seemed to have come over me.&nbsp;
+I was no longer gloomy and despairing, but gay and happy.&nbsp; My slumbers
+were light and easy; not disturbed, as before, by frightful dreams.&nbsp;
+I arose with the lark, and like him uttered a cheerful song of praise
+to God, frequently and earnestly, and was particularly cautious not
+to do anything which I considered might cause His displeasure.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;At church I was constant, and when there listened with deepest
+attention to every word which proceeded from the mouth of the minister.&nbsp;
+In a little time it appeared to me that I had become a good, very good,
+young man.&nbsp; At times the recollection of the sin would return,
+and I would feel a momentary chill; but the thought quickly vanished,
+and I again felt happy and secure.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One Sunday morning, after I had said my prayers, I felt particularly
+joyous.&nbsp; I thought of the innocent and virtuous life I was leading;
+and when the recollection of the sin intruded for a moment, said, &ldquo;I
+am sure God will never utterly cast away so good a creature as myself.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+I went to church, and was as usual attentive.&nbsp; The subject of the
+sermon was on the duty of searching the Scriptures: all I knew of them
+was from the liturgy.&nbsp; I now, however, determined to read them,
+and perfect the good work which I had begun.&nbsp; My father&rsquo;s
+Bible was upon the shelf, and on that evening I took it with me to my
+chamber.&nbsp; I placed it on the table, and sat down.&nbsp; My heart
+was filled with pleasing anticipation.&nbsp; I opened the book at random,
+and began to read; the first passage on which my eyes lighted was the
+following:-<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&ldquo;He who committeth the sin against the Holy Ghost shall
+not be forgiven, either in this world or the next.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Here Peter was seized with convulsive tremors.&nbsp; Winifred sobbed
+violently.&nbsp; I got up, and went away.&nbsp; Returning in about a
+quarter of an hour, I found him more calm; he motioned me to sit down;
+and, after a short pause, continued his narration.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXVI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Hasty farewell - Lofty rock - Wrestlings of Jacob - No rest - Ways of
+Providence - Two females - Foot of the Cross - Enemy of souls - Perplexed
+- Lucky hour - Valetudinarian - Methodists - Fervent in prayer - You
+Saxons - Weak creatures - Very agreeable - Almost happy - Kindness and
+solicitude.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Where was I, young man?&nbsp; Oh, I remember, at the fatal passage
+which removed all hope.&nbsp; I will not dwell on what I felt.&nbsp;
+I closed my eyes, and wished that I might be dreaming; but it was no
+dream, but a terrific reality: I will not dwell on that period, I should
+only shock you.&nbsp; I could not bear my feelings; so, bidding my friends
+a hasty farewell, I abandoned myself to horror and despair, and ran
+wild through Wales, climbing mountains and wading streams.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Climbing mountains and wading streams, I ran wild about, I was
+burnt by the sun, drenched by the rain, and had frequently at night
+no other covering than the sky, or the humid roof of some cave; but
+nothing seemed to affect my constitution; probably the fire which burned
+within me counteracted what I suffered from without.&nbsp; During the
+space of three years I scarcely knew what befell me; my life was a dream
+- a wild, horrible dream; more than once I believe I was in the hands
+of robbers, and once in the hands of gypsies.&nbsp; I liked the last
+description of people least of all; I could not abide their yellow faces,
+or their ceaseless clabber.&nbsp; Escaping from these beings, whose
+countenances and godless discourse brought to my mind the demons of
+the deep Unknown, I still ran wild through Wales, I know not how long.&nbsp;
+On one occasion, coming in some degree to my recollection, I felt myself
+quite unable to bear the horrors of my situation; looking round I found
+myself near the sea; instantly the idea came into my head that I would
+cast myself into it, and thus anticipate my final doom.&nbsp; I hesitated
+a moment, but a voice within me seemed to tell me that I could do no
+better; the sea was near, and I could not swim, so I determined to fling
+myself into the sea.&nbsp; As I was running along at great speed, in
+the direction of a lofty rock, which beetled over the waters, I suddenly
+felt myself seized by the coat.&nbsp; I strove to tear myself away,
+but in vain; looking round, I perceived a venerable hale old man, who
+had hold of me.&nbsp; &ldquo;Let me go!&rdquo; said I, fiercely.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;I will not let thee go,&rdquo; said the old man, and now, instead
+of with one, he grappled me with both hands.&nbsp; &ldquo;In whose name
+dost thou detain me?&rdquo; said I, scarcely knowing what I said.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;In the name of my Master, who made thee and yonder sea; and has
+said to the sea, So far shalt thou come, and no farther, and to thee,
+Thou shalt do no murder.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Has not a man a right to
+do what he pleases with his own?&rdquo; said I.&nbsp; &ldquo;He has,&rdquo;
+said the old man, &ldquo;but thy life is not thy own; thou art accountable
+for it to thy God.&nbsp; Nay, I will not let thee go,&rdquo; he continued,
+as I again struggled; &ldquo;if thou struggle with me the whole day
+I will not let thee go, as Charles Wesley says, in his &lsquo;Wrestlings
+of Jacob&rsquo;; and see, it is of no use struggling, for I am, in the
+strength of my Master, stronger than thou&rdquo;; and indeed, all of
+a sudden I had become very weak and exhausted; whereupon the old man,
+beholding my situation, took me by the arm and led me gently to a neighbouring
+town, which stood behind a hill, and which I had not before observed;
+presently he opened the door of a respectable-looking house, which stood
+beside a large building having the appearance of a chapel, and conducted
+me into a small room, with a great many books in it.&nbsp; Having caused
+me to sit down, he stood looking at me for some time, occasionally heaving
+a sigh.&nbsp; I was, indeed, haggard and forlorn.&nbsp; &ldquo;Who art
+thou?&rdquo; he said at last.&nbsp; &ldquo;A miserable man,&rdquo; I
+replied.&nbsp; &ldquo;What makes thee miserable?&rdquo; said the old
+man.&nbsp; &ldquo;A hideous crime,&rdquo; I replied.&nbsp; &ldquo;I
+can find no rest; like Cain I wander here and there.&rdquo;&nbsp; The
+old man turned pale.&nbsp; &ldquo;Hast thou taken another&rsquo;s life?&rdquo;
+said he; &ldquo;if so, I advise thee to surrender thyself to the magistrate;
+thou canst do no better; thy doing so will be the best proof of thy
+repentance; and though there be no hope for thee in this world there
+may be much in the next.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;I
+have never taken another&rsquo;s life.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;What then,
+another&rsquo;s goods?&nbsp; If so, restore them sevenfold, if possible:
+or, if it be not in thy power, and thy conscience accuse thee, surrender
+thyself to the magistrate, and make the only satisfaction thou art able.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;I have taken no one&rsquo;s goods,&rdquo; said I.&nbsp; &ldquo;Of
+what art thou guilty, then?&rdquo; said he.&nbsp; &ldquo;Art thou a
+drunkard? a profligate?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Alas, no,&rdquo; said I;
+&ldquo;I am neither of these; would that I were no worse.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thereupon the old man looked steadfastly at me for some time;
+then, after appearing to reflect, he said, &ldquo;Young man, I have
+a great desire to know your name.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;What matters it
+to you what is my name?&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;you know nothing of me.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Perhaps you are mistaken,&rdquo; said the old man, looking kindly
+at me; &ldquo;but at all events tell me your name.&rdquo;&nbsp; I hesitated
+a moment, and then told him who I was, whereupon he exclaimed with much
+emotion, &ldquo;I thought so; how wonderful are the ways of Providence.&nbsp;
+I have heard of thee, young man, and know thy mother well.&nbsp; Only
+a month ago, when upon a journey, I experienced much kindness from her.&nbsp;
+She was speaking to me of her lost child, with tears; she told me that
+you were one of the best of sons, but that some strange idea appeared
+to have occupied your mind.&nbsp; Despair not, my son.&nbsp; If thou
+hast been afflicted, I doubt not but that thy affliction will eventually
+turn out to thy benefit; I doubt not but that thou wilt be preserved,
+as an example of the great mercy of God.&nbsp; I will now kneel down
+and pray for thee, my son.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He knelt down, and prayed long and fervently.&nbsp; I remained
+standing for some time; at length I knelt down likewise.&nbsp; I scarcely
+knew what he was saying, but when he concluded I said &ldquo;Amen.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And when we had risen from our knees, the old man left me for
+a short time, and on his return led me into another room, where were
+two females; one was an elderly person, the wife of the old man, - the
+other was a young woman of very prepossessing appearance (hang not down
+thy head, Winifred), who I soon found was a distant relation of the
+old man, - both received me with great kindness, the old man having
+doubtless previously told them who I was.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I stayed several days in the good man&rsquo;s house.&nbsp; I
+had still the greater portion of a small sum which I happened to have
+about me when I departed on my dolorous wandering, and with this I purchased
+clothes, and altered my appearance considerably.&nbsp; On the evening
+of the second day my friend said, &ldquo;I am going to preach, perhaps
+you will come and hear me.&rdquo;&nbsp; I consented, and we all went,
+not to a church, but to the large building next the house; for the old
+man, though a clergyman, was not of the established persuasion, and
+there the old man mounted a pulpit, and began to preach.&nbsp; &ldquo;Come
+unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden,&rdquo; etc. etc., was
+his text.&nbsp; His sermon was long, but I still bear the greater portion
+of it in my mind.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The substance of it was that Jesus was at all times ready to
+take upon Himself the burden of our sins, provided we came to Him with
+a humble and contrite spirit, and begged His help.&nbsp; This doctrine
+was new to me; I had often been at church, but had never heard it preached
+before, at least so distinctly.&nbsp; When he said that all men might
+be saved, I shook, for I expected he would add, all except those who
+had committed the mysterious sin; but no, all men were to be saved who
+with a humble and contrite spirit would come to Jesus, cast themselves
+at the foot of His cross, and accept pardon through the merits of His
+blood-shedding alone.&nbsp; &ldquo;Therefore, my friends,&rdquo; said
+he, in conclusion, &ldquo;despair not - however guilty you may be, despair
+not - however desperate your condition may seem,&rdquo; said he, fixing
+his eyes upon me, &ldquo;despair not.&nbsp; There is nothing more foolish
+and more wicked than despair; over-weening confidence is not more foolish
+than despair; both are the favourite weapons of the enemy of souls.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;This discourse gave rise in my mind to no slight perplexity.&nbsp;
+I had read in the Scriptures that he who committeth a certain sin shall
+never be forgiven, and that there is no hope for him either in this
+world or the next.&nbsp; And here was a man, a good man certainly, and
+one who, of necessity, was thoroughly acquainted with the Scriptures,
+who told me that any one might be forgiven, however wicked, who would
+only trust in Christ and in the merits of His blood-shedding.&nbsp;
+Did I believe in Christ?&nbsp; Ay, truly.&nbsp; Was I willing to be
+saved by Christ?&nbsp; Ay, truly.&nbsp; Did I trust in Christ?&nbsp;
+I trusted that Christ would save every one but myself.&nbsp; And why
+not myself? simply because the Scriptures had told me that he who has
+committed the sin against the Holy Ghost can never be saved, and I had
+committed the sin against the Holy Ghost, - perhaps the only one who
+ever had committed it.&nbsp; How could I hope?&nbsp; The Scriptures
+could not lie, and yet here was this good old man, profoundly versed
+in the Scriptures, who bade me hope; would he lie?&nbsp; No.&nbsp; But
+did the old man know my case?&nbsp; Ah, no, he did not know my case!
+but yet he had bid me hope, whatever I had done, provided I would go
+to Jesus.&nbsp; But how could I think of going to Jesus, when the Scriptures
+told me plainly that all would be useless?&nbsp; I was perplexed, and
+yet a ray of hope began to dawn in my soul.&nbsp; I thought of consulting
+the good man, but I was afraid he would drive away the small glimmer.&nbsp;
+I was afraid he would say, &ldquo;Oh yes, every one is to be saved,
+except a wretch like you; I was not aware before that there was anything
+so horrible, - begone!&rdquo;&nbsp; Once or twice the old man questioned
+me on the subject of my misery, but I evaded him; once, indeed, when
+he looked particularly benevolent, I think I should have unbosomed myself
+to him, but we were interrupted.&nbsp; He never pressed me much; perhaps
+he was delicate in probing my mind, as we were then of different persuasions.&nbsp;
+Hence he advised me to seek the advice of some powerful minister in
+my own church; there were many such in it, he said.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I stayed several days in the family, during which time I more
+than once heard my venerable friend preach; each time he preached, he
+exhorted his hearers not to despair.&nbsp; The whole family were kind
+to me; his wife frequently discoursed with me, and also the young person
+to whom I have already alluded.&nbsp; It appeared to me that the latter
+took a peculiar interest in my fate.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;At last my friend said to me, &ldquo;It is now time thou shouldest
+return to thy mother and thy brother.&rdquo;&nbsp; So I arose, and departed
+to my mother and my brother; and at my departure my old friend gave
+me his blessing, and his wife and the young person shed tears, the last
+especially.&nbsp; And when my mother saw me, she shed tears, and fell
+on my neck and kissed me, and my brother took me by the hand and bade
+me welcome; and when our first emotions were subsided, my mother said,
+&ldquo;I trust thou art come in a lucky hour.&nbsp; A few weeks ago
+my cousin (whose favourite thou always wast) died and left thee his
+heir - left thee the goodly farm in which he lived.&nbsp; I trust, my
+son, that thou wilt now settle, and be a comfort to me in my old days.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+And I answered, &ldquo;I will, if so please the Lord&rdquo;; and I said
+to myself, &ldquo;God grant that this bequest be a token of the Lord&rsquo;s
+favour.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And in a few days I departed to take possession of my farm; it
+was about twenty miles from my mother&rsquo;s house, in a beautiful
+but rather wild district; I arrived at the fall of the leaf.&nbsp; All
+day long I busied myself with my farm, and thus kept my mind employed.&nbsp;
+At night, however, I felt rather solitary, and I frequently wished for
+a companion.&nbsp; Each night and morning I prayed fervently unto the
+Lord; for His hand had been very heavy upon me, and I feared Him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There was one thing connected with my new abode which gave me
+considerable uneasiness - the want of spiritual instruction.&nbsp; There
+was a church, indeed, close at hand, in which service was occasionally
+performed, but in so hurried and heartless a manner that I derived little
+benefit from it.&nbsp; The clergyman to whom the benefice belonged was
+a valetudinarian, who passed his time in London, or at some watering-place,
+entrusting the care of his flock to the curate of a distant parish,
+who gave himself very little trouble about the matter.&nbsp; Now I wanted
+every Sunday to hear from the pulpit words of consolation and encouragement,
+similar to those which I had heard uttered from the pulpit by my good
+and venerable friend, but I was debarred from this privilege.&nbsp;
+At length, one day being in conversation with one of my labourers, a
+staid and serious man, I spoke to him of the matter which lay heavy
+upon my mind; whereupon, looking me wistfully in the face, he said,
+&ldquo;Master, the want of religious instruction in my church was what
+drove me to the Methodists.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;The Methodists,&rdquo;
+said I, &ldquo;are there any in these parts?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;There
+is a chapel,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;only half a mile distant, at which
+there are two services every Sunday, and other two during the week.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+Now it happened that my venerable friend was of the Methodist persuasion,
+and when I heard the poor man talk in this manner, I said to him, &ldquo;May
+I go with you next Sunday?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; said
+he; so I went with the labourer on the ensuing Sabbath to the meeting
+of the Methodists.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I liked the preaching which I heard at the chapel very well,
+though it was not quite so comfortable as that of my old friend, the
+preacher being in some respects a different kind of man.&nbsp; It, however,
+did me good, and I went again, and continued to do so, though I did
+not become a regular member of the body at that time.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I had now the benefit of religious instruction, and also to a
+certain extent of religious fellowship, for the preacher and various
+members of his flock frequently came to see me.&nbsp; They were honest
+plain men, not exactly of the description which I wished for, but still
+good sort of people, and I was glad to see them.&nbsp; Once on a time,
+when some of them were with me, one of them inquired whether I was fervent
+in prayer.&nbsp; &ldquo;Very fervent,&rdquo; said I.&nbsp; &ldquo;And
+do you read the Scriptures often?&rdquo; said he.&nbsp; &ldquo;No,&rdquo;
+said I.&nbsp; &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; said he.&nbsp; &ldquo;Because I
+am afraid to see there my own condemnation.&rdquo;&nbsp; They looked
+at each other, and said nothing at the time.&nbsp; On leaving me, however,
+they all advised me to read the Scriptures with fervency and prayer.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As I had told these honest people, I shrank from searching the
+Scriptures; the remembrance of the fatal passage was still too vivid
+in my mind to permit me.&nbsp; I did not wish to see my condemnation
+repeated, but I was very fervent in prayer, and almost hoped that God
+would yet forgive me by virtue of the blood-shedding of the Lamb.&nbsp;
+Time passed on, my affairs prospered, and I enjoyed a certain portion
+of tranquillity.&nbsp; Occasionally, when I had nothing else to do,
+I renewed my studies.&nbsp; Many is the book I read, especially in my
+native language, for I was always fond of my native language, and proud
+of being a Welshman.&nbsp; Amongst the books I read were the odes of
+the great Ab Gwilym, whom thou, friend, hast never heard of; no, nor
+any of thy countrymen, for you are an ignorant race, you Saxons, at
+least with respect to all that relates to Wales and Welshmen.&nbsp;
+I likewise read the book of Master Ellis Wyn.&nbsp; The latter work
+possessed a singular fascination for me, on account of its wonderful
+delineations of the torments of the nether world.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But man does not love to be alone; indeed, the Scripture says
+that it is not good for man to be alone.&nbsp; I occupied my body with
+the pursuits of husbandry, and I improved my mind with the perusal of
+good and wise books; but, as I have already said, I frequently sighed
+for a companion with whom I could exchange ideas, and who could take
+an interest in my pursuits; the want of such a one I more particularly
+felt in the long winter evenings.&nbsp; It was then that the image of
+the young person whom I had seen in the house of the preacher frequently
+rose up distinctly before my mind&rsquo;s eye, decked with quiet graces
+- hang not down your head, Winifred - and I thought that of all the
+women in the world I should wish her to be my partner, and then I considered
+whether it would be possible to obtain her.&nbsp; I am ready to acknowledge,
+friend, that it was both selfish and wicked in me to wish to fetter
+any human being to a lost creature like myself, conscious of having
+committed a crime for which the Scriptures told me there is no pardon.&nbsp;
+I had, indeed, a long struggle as to whether I should make the attempt
+or not - selfishness however prevailed.&nbsp; I will not detain your
+attention with relating all that occurred at this period - suffice it
+to say that I made my suit and was successful; it is true that the old
+man, who was her guardian, hesitated, and asked several questions respecting
+my state of mind.&nbsp; I am afraid that I partly deceived him, perhaps
+he partly deceived himself; he was pleased that I had adopted his profession
+- we are all weak creatures.&nbsp; With respect to the young person,
+she did not ask many questions; and I soon found that I had won her
+heart.&nbsp; To be brief, I married her; and here she is, the truest
+wife that ever man had, and the kindest.&nbsp; Kind I may well call
+her, seeing that she shrinks not from me, who so cruelly deceived her,
+in not telling her at first what I was.&nbsp; I married her, friend;
+and brought her home to my little possession, where we passed our time
+very agreeably.&nbsp; Our affairs prospered, our garners were full,
+and there was coin in our purse.&nbsp; I worked in the field; Winifred
+busied herself with the dairy.&nbsp; At night I frequently read books
+to her, books of my own country, friend; I likewise read to her songs
+of my own, holy songs and carols which she admired, and which yourself
+would perhaps admire, could you understand them; but I repeat, you Saxons
+are an ignorant people with respect to us, and a perverse, inasmuch
+as you despise Welsh without understanding it.&nbsp; Every night I prayed
+fervently, and my wife admired my gift of prayer.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One night, after I had been reading to my wife a portion of Ellis
+Wyn, my wife said, &ldquo;This is a wonderful book, and containing much
+true and pleasant doctrine; but how is it that you, who are so fond
+of good books, and good things in general, never read the Bible?&nbsp;
+You read me the book of Master Ellis Wyn, you read me sweet songs of
+your own composition, you edify me with your gift of prayer, but yet
+you never read the Bible.&rdquo;&nbsp; And when I heard her mention
+the Bible I shook, for I thought of my own condemnation.&nbsp; However,
+I dearly loved my wife, and as she pressed me, I commenced on that very
+night reading the Bible.&nbsp; All went on smoothly for a long time;
+for months and months I did not find the fatal passage, so that I almost
+thought that I had imagined it.&nbsp; My affairs prospered much the
+while, so that I was almost happy, - taking pleasure in everything around
+me, - in my wife, in my farm, my books and compositions, and the Welsh
+language; till one night, as I was reading the Bible, feeling particularly
+comfortable, a thought having just come into my head that I would print
+some of my compositions, and purchase a particular field of a neighbour
+- O God - God!&nbsp; I came to the fatal passage.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Friend, friend, what shall I say?&nbsp; I rushed out.&nbsp; My
+wife followed me, asking me what was the matter.&nbsp; I could only
+answer with groans - for three days and three nights I did little else
+than groan.&nbsp; Oh the kindness and solicitude of my wife!&nbsp; &ldquo;What
+is the matter husband, dear husband?&rdquo; she was continually saying.&nbsp;
+I became at last more calm.&nbsp; My wife still persisted in asking
+me the cause of my late paroxysm.&nbsp; It is hard to keep a secret
+from a wife, especially such a wife as mine, so I told my wife the tale,
+as we sat one night - it was a mid-winter night - over the dying brands
+of our hearth, after the family had retired to rest, her hand locked
+in mine, even as it is now.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I thought she would have shrunk from me with horror; but she
+did not; her hand, it is true, trembled once or twice; but that was
+all.&nbsp; At last she gave mine a gentle pressure; and, looking up
+in my face, she said - what do you think my wife said, young man?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is impossible for me to guess,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Let us go to rest, my love; your fears are all groundless.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXVII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Getting late - Seven years old - Chastening - Go forth - London Bridge
+- Same eyes - Common occurrence - Very sleepy.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And so I still say,&rsquo; said Winifred, sobbing.&nbsp; &lsquo;Let
+us retire to rest, dear husband; your fears are groundless.&nbsp; I
+had hoped long since that your affliction would have passed away, and
+I still hope that it eventually will; so take heart, Peter, and let
+us retire to rest, for it is getting late.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Rest!&rsquo; said Peter; &lsquo;there is no rest for the wicked!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We are all wicked,&rsquo; said Winifred; &lsquo;but you are afraid
+of a shadow.&nbsp; How often have I told you that the sin of your heart
+is not the sin against the Holy Ghost: the sin of your heart is its
+natural pride, of which you are scarcely aware, to keep down which God
+in His mercy permitted you to be terrified with the idea of having committed
+a sin which you never committed.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you will still maintain,&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;that
+I never committed the sin against the Holy Spirit?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will,&rsquo; said Winifred; &lsquo;you never committed it.&nbsp;
+How should a child seven years old commit a sin like that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Have I not read my own condemnation?&rsquo; said Peter.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Did not the first words which I read in the Holy Scripture condemn
+me?&nbsp; &ldquo;He who committeth the sin against the Holy Ghost shall
+never enter into the kingdom of God.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You never committed it,&rsquo; said Winifred.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But the words! the words! the words!&rsquo; said Peter.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The words are true words,&rsquo; said Winifred, sobbing; &lsquo;but
+they were not meant for you, but for those who have broken their profession,
+who, having embraced the cross, have receded from their Master.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what sayst thou to the effect which the words produced upon
+me?&rsquo; said Peter.&nbsp; &lsquo;Did they not cause me to run wild
+through Wales for years, like Merddin Wyllt of yore; thinkest thou that
+I opened the book at that particular passage by chance?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Winifred, &lsquo;not by chance; it was the hand
+of God directed you, doubtless for some wise purpose.&nbsp; You had
+become satisfied with yourself.&nbsp; The Lord wished to rouse thee
+from thy state of carnal security, and therefore directed your eyes
+to that fearful passage.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Does the Lord then carry out His designs by means of guile?&rsquo;
+said Peter with a groan.&nbsp; &lsquo;Is not the Lord true?&nbsp; Would
+the Lord impress upon me that I had committed a sin of which I am guiltless?&nbsp;
+Hush, Winifred! hush! thou knowest that I have committed the sin.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thou hast not committed it,&rsquo; said Winifred, sobbing yet
+more violently.&nbsp; &lsquo;Were they my last words, I would persist
+that thou hast not committed it, though, perhaps, thou wouldst, but
+for this chastening; it was not to convince thee that thou hast committed
+the sin, but rather to prevent thee from committing it, that the Lord
+brought that passage before thy eyes.&nbsp; He is not to blame, if thou
+art wilfully blind to the truth and wisdom of His ways.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I see thou wouldst comfort me,&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;as thou
+hast often before attempted to do.&nbsp; I would fain ask the young
+man his opinion.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have not yet heard the whole of your history,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My story is nearly told,&rsquo; said Peter; &lsquo;a few words
+will complete it.&nbsp; My wife endeavoured to console and reassure
+me, using the arguments which you have just heard her use, and many
+others, but in vain.&nbsp; Peace nor comfort came to my breast.&nbsp;
+I was rapidly falling into the depths of despair; when one day Winifred
+said to me, &ldquo;I see thou wilt be lost, if we remain here.&nbsp;
+One resource only remains.&nbsp; Thou must go forth, my husband, into
+the wide world, and to comfort thee I will go with thee.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;And what can I do in the wide world?&rdquo; said I, despondingly.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Much,&rdquo; replied Winifred, &ldquo;if you will but exert yourself;
+much good canst thou do with the blessing of God.&rdquo;&nbsp; Many
+things of the same kind she said to me; and at last I arose from the
+earth to which God had smitten me, and disposed of my property in the
+best way I could, and went into the world.&nbsp; We did all the good
+we were able, visiting the sick, ministering to the sick, and praying
+with the sick.&nbsp; At last I became celebrated as the possessor of
+a great gift of prayer.&nbsp; And people urged me to preach, and Winifred
+urged me too, and at last I consented, and I preached.&nbsp; I - I -
+outcast Peter, became the preacher Peter Williams.&nbsp; I, the lost
+one, attempted to show others the right road.&nbsp; And in this way
+I have gone on for thirteen years, preaching and teaching, visiting
+the sick, and ministering to them, with Winifred by my side heartening
+me on.&nbsp; Occasionally I am visited with fits of indescribable agony,
+generally on the night before the Sabbath; for I then ask myself, how
+dare I, the outcast, attempt to preach the word of God?&nbsp; Young
+man, my tale is told; you seem in thought!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am thinking of London Bridge,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Of London Bridge!&rsquo; said Peter and his wife.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;of London Bridge.&nbsp; I am indebted
+for much wisdom to London Bridge; it was there that I completed my studies.&nbsp;
+But to the point.&nbsp; I was once reading on London Bridge a book which
+an ancient gentlewoman, who kept the bridge, was in the habit of lending
+me; and there I found written, &ldquo;Each one carries in his breast
+the recollection of some sin which presses heavy upon him.&nbsp; Oh,
+if men could but look into each other&rsquo;s hearts, what blackness
+would they find there!&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s true,&rsquo; said Peter.&nbsp; &lsquo;What is the
+name of the book?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;<i>The Life of Blessed Mary Flanders</i>.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Some popish saint, I suppose,&rsquo; said Peter.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As much of a saint, I daresay,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;as most
+popish ones; but you interrupted me.&nbsp; One part of your narrative
+brought the passage which I have quoted into my mind.&nbsp; You said
+that after you had committed this same sin of yours you were in the
+habit, at school, of looking upon your schoolfellows with a kind of
+gloomy superiority, considering yourself a lone monstrous being who
+had committed a sin far above the daring of any of them.&nbsp; Are you
+sure that many others of your schoolfellows were not looking upon you
+and the others with much the same eyes with which you were looking upon
+them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How!&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;dost thou think that they had
+divined my secret?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not they,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;they were, I daresay, thinking
+too much of themselves and of their own concerns to have divined any
+secrets of yours.&nbsp; All I mean to say is, they had probably secrets
+of their own, and who knows that the secret sin of more than one of
+them was not the very sin which caused you so much misery?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dost thou then imagine,&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;the sin against
+the Holy Ghost to be so common an occurrence?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As you have described it,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;of very common
+occurrence, especially amongst children, who are, indeed, the only beings
+likely to commit it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Truly,&rsquo; said Winifred, &lsquo;the young man talks wisely.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Peter was silent for some moments, and appeared to be reflecting; at
+last, suddenly raising his head, he looked me full in the face, and,
+grasping my hand with vehemence, he said, &lsquo;Tell me, young man,
+only one thing, hast thou, too, committed the sin against the Holy Ghost?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am neither Papist nor Methodist,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but
+of the Church, and, being so, confess myself to no one, but keep my
+own counsel; I will tell thee, however, had I committed, at the same
+age, twenty such sins as that which you committed, I should feel no
+uneasiness at these years - but I am sleepy, and must go to rest.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;God bless thee, young man,&rsquo; said Winifred.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXVIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Low and calm - Much better - Blessed effect - No answer - Such a sermon.<br>
+<br>
+Before I sank to rest I heard Winifred and her husband conversing in
+the place where I had left them; both their voices were low and calm.&nbsp;
+I soon fell asleep, and slumbered for some time.&nbsp; On my awakening
+I again heard them conversing, but they were now in their cart; still
+the voices of both were calm.&nbsp; I heard no passionate bursts of
+wild despair on the part of the man.&nbsp; Methought I occasionally
+heard the word Pechod proceeding from the lips of each, but with no
+particular emphasis.&nbsp; I supposed they were talking of the innate
+sin of both their hearts.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish that man were happy,&rsquo; said I to myself, &lsquo;were
+it only for his wife&rsquo;s sake, and yet he deserves to be happy for
+his own.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The next day Peter was very cheerful, more cheerful than I had ever
+seen him.&nbsp; At breakfast his conversation was animated, and he smiled
+repeatedly.&nbsp; I looked at him with the greatest interest, and the
+eyes of his wife were almost constantly fixed upon him.&nbsp; A shade
+of gloom would occasionally come over his countenance, but it almost
+instantly disappeared; perhaps it proceeded more from habit than anything
+else.&nbsp; After breakfast he took his Welsh Bible and sat down beneath
+a tree.&nbsp; His eyes were soon fixed intently on the volume; now and
+then he would call his wife, show her some passage, and appeared to
+consult with her.&nbsp; The day passed quickly and comfortably.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Your husband seems much better,&rsquo; said I, at evening fall,
+to Winifred, as we chanced to be alone.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He does,&rsquo; said Winifred; &lsquo;and that on the day of
+the week when he was wont to appear most melancholy, for to-morrow is
+the Sabbath.&nbsp; He now no longer looks forward to the Sabbath with
+dread, but appears to reckon on it.&nbsp; What a happy change! and to
+think that this change should have been produced by a few words, seemingly
+careless ones, proceeding from the mouth of one who is almost a stranger
+to him.&nbsp; Truly, it is wonderful.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To whom do you allude,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;and to what words?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To yourself, and to the words which came from your lips last
+night, after you had heard my poor husband&rsquo;s history.&nbsp; Those
+strange words, drawn out with so much seeming indifference, have produced
+in my husband the blessed effect which you have observed.&nbsp; They
+have altered the current of his ideas.&nbsp; He no longer thinks himself
+the only being in the world doomed to destruction, - the only being
+capable of committing the never-to-be-forgiven sin.&nbsp; Your supposition
+that that which harrowed his soul is of frequent occurrence amongst
+children has tranquillised him; the mist which hung over his mind has
+cleared away, and he begins to see the groundlessness of his apprehensions.&nbsp;
+The Lord has permitted him to be chastened for a season, but his lamp
+will only burn the brighter for what he has undergone.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Sunday came, fine and glorious as the last.&nbsp; Again my friends and
+myself breakfasted together - again the good family of the house on
+the hill above, headed by the respectable master, descended to the meadow.&nbsp;
+Peter and his wife were ready to receive them.&nbsp; Again Peter placed
+himself at the side of the honest farmer, and Winifred by the side of
+her friend.&nbsp; &lsquo;Wilt thou not come?&rsquo; said Peter, looking
+towards me with a face in which there was much emotion.&nbsp; &lsquo;Wilt
+thou not come?&rsquo; said Winifred, with a face beaming with kindness.&nbsp;
+But I made no answer, and presently the party moved away, in the same
+manner in which it had moved on the preceding Sabbath, and I was again
+left alone.<br>
+<br>
+The hours of the Sabbath passed slowly away.&nbsp; I sat gazing at the
+sky, the trees, and the water.&nbsp; At last I strolled up to the house
+and sat down in the porch.&nbsp; It was empty; there was no modest maiden
+there, as on the preceding Sabbath.&nbsp; The damsel of the book had
+accompanied the rest.&nbsp; I had seen her in the procession, and the
+house appeared quite deserted.&nbsp; The owners had probably left it
+to my custody, so I sat down in the porch, quite alone.&nbsp; The hours
+of the Sabbath passed heavily away.<br>
+<br>
+At last evening came, and with it the party of the morning.&nbsp; I
+was now at my place beneath the oak.&nbsp; I went forward to meet them.&nbsp;
+Peter and his wife received me with a calm and quiet greeting, and passed
+forward.&nbsp; The rest of the party had broken into groups.&nbsp; There
+was a kind of excitement amongst them, and much eager whispering.&nbsp;
+I went to one of the groups; the young girl of whom I have spoken more
+than once was speaking: &lsquo;Such a sermon,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;it
+has never been our lot to hear; Peter never before spoke as he has done
+this day - he was always a powerful preacher, but oh, the unction of
+the discourse of this morning, and yet more of that of the afternoon,
+which was the continuation of it!&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;What was the subject?&rsquo;
+said I, interrupting her.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah! you should have been there,
+young man, to have heard it; it would have made a lasting impression
+upon you.&nbsp; I was bathed in tears all the time; those who heard
+it will never forget the preaching of the good Peter Williams on the
+Power, Providence, and Goodness of God.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXIX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Deep interest - Goodly country - Two mansions - Welshman&rsquo;s Candle
+- Beautiful universe - Godly discourse - Fine church - Points of doctrine
+- Strange adventures - Paltry cause - Roman pontiff - Evil spirit.<br>
+<br>
+On the morrow I said to my friends, &lsquo;I am about to depart; farewell!&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Depart!&rsquo; said Peter and his wife, simultaneously; &lsquo;whither
+wouldst thou go?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t stay here all my
+days,&rsquo; I replied.&nbsp; &lsquo;Of course not,&rsquo; said Peter;
+&lsquo;but we had no idea of losing thee so soon: we had almost hoped
+that thou wouldst join us, become one of us.&nbsp; We are under infinite
+obligations to thee.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You mean I am under infinite
+obligations to you,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Did you not save my
+life?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Perhaps so, under God,&rsquo; said Peter;
+&lsquo;and what hast thou not done for me?&nbsp; Art thou aware that,
+under God, thou hast preserved my soul from despair?&nbsp; But, independent
+of that, we like thy company, and feel a deep interest in thee, and
+would fain teach thee the way that is right.&nbsp; Hearken, to-morrow
+we go into Wales; go with us.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I have no wish to
+go into Wales,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Why not?&rsquo; said Peter,
+with animation.&nbsp; &lsquo;Wales is a goodly country; as the Scripture
+says - a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths, that spring
+out of valleys and hills, a land whose stones are iron, and out of whose
+hills thou mayest dig lead.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I daresay it is a very fine country,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but
+I have no wish to go there just now; my destiny seems to point in another
+direction, to say nothing of my trade.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Thou dost
+right to say nothing of thy trade,&rsquo; said Peter, smiling, &lsquo;for
+thou seemest to care nothing about it; which has led Winifred and myself
+to suspect that thou art not altogether what thou seemest; but, setting
+that aside, we should be most happy if thou wouldst go with us into
+Wales.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I cannot promise to go with you into Wales,&rsquo;
+said I; &lsquo;but, as you depart to-morrow, I will stay with you through
+the day, and on the morrow accompany you part of the way.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Do,&rsquo; said Peter: &lsquo;I have many people to see to-day,
+and so has Winifred; but we will both endeavour to have some serious
+discourse with thee, which, perhaps, will turn to thy profit in the
+end.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+In the course of the day the good Peter came to me, as I was seated
+beneath the oak, and, placing himself by me, commenced addressing me
+in the following manner:-<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have no doubt, my young friend, that you are willing to admit
+that the most important thing which a human being possesses is his soul;
+it is of infinitely more importance than the body, which is a frail
+substance, and cannot last for many years; but not so the soul, which,
+by its nature, is imperishable.&nbsp; To one of two mansions the soul
+is destined to depart, after its separation from the body, to heaven
+or hell; to the halls of eternal bliss, where God and His holy angels
+dwell, or to the place of endless misery, inhabited by Satan and his
+grisly companions.&nbsp; My friend, if the joys of heaven are great,
+unutterably great, so are the torments of hell unutterably so.&nbsp;
+I wish not to speak of them, I wish not to terrify your imagination
+with the torments of hell: indeed, I like not to think of them; but
+it is necessary to speak of them sometimes, and to think of them sometimes,
+lest you should sink into a state of carnal security.&nbsp; Authors,
+friend, and learned men, are not altogether agreed as to the particulars
+of hell.&nbsp; They all agree, however, in considering it a place of
+exceeding horror.&nbsp; Master Ellis Wyn, who by the bye was a churchman,
+calls it, amongst other things, a place of strong sighs, and of flaming
+sparks.&nbsp; Master Rees Pritchard, who was not only a churchman, but
+Vicar of Llandovery, and flourished about two hundred years ago - I
+wish many like him flourished now - speaking of hell, in his collection
+of sweet hymns called the &ldquo;Welshman&rsquo;s Candle,&rdquo; observes,<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&ldquo;The pool is continually blazing; it is very deep, without
+any known bottom, and the walls are so high, that there is neither hope
+nor possibility of escaping over them.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But, as I told you just now, I have no great pleasure in talking
+of hell.&nbsp; No, friend, no; I would sooner talk of the other place,
+and of the goodness and hospitality of God amongst His saints above.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And then the excellent man began to dilate upon the joys of heaven,
+and the goodness and hospitality of God in the mansions above; explaining
+to me, in the clearest way, how I might get there.<br>
+<br>
+And when he had finished what he had to say, he left me, whereupon Winifred
+drew nigh, and sitting down by me began to address me.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+do not think,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;from what I have observed of thee,
+that thou wouldst wish to be ungrateful, and yet, is not thy whole life
+a series of ingratitude, and to whom? - to thy Maker.&nbsp; Has He not
+endowed thee with a goodly and healthy form; and senses which enable
+thee to enjoy the delights of His beautiful universe - the work of His
+hands?&nbsp; Canst thou not enjoy, even to rapture, the brightness of
+the sun, the perfume of the meads, and the song of the dear birds which
+inhabit among the trees?&nbsp; Yes, thou canst; for I have seen thee,
+and observed thee doing so.&nbsp; Yet, during the whole time that I
+have known thee, I have not heard proceed from thy lips one single word
+of praise or thanksgiving to . . .&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And in this manner the admirable woman proceeded for a considerable
+time, and to all her discourse I listened with attention; and when she
+had concluded, I took her hand and said, &lsquo;I thank you,&rsquo;
+and that was all.<br>
+<br>
+On the next day everything was ready for our departure.&nbsp; The good
+family of the house came to bid us farewell.&nbsp; There were shaking
+of hands, and kisses, as on the night of our arrival.<br>
+<br>
+And as I stood somewhat apart, the young girl of whom I have spoken
+so often came up to me, and holding out her hand, said, &lsquo;Farewell,
+young man, wherever thou goest.&rsquo;&nbsp; Then, after looking around
+her, she said, &lsquo;It was all true you told me.&nbsp; Yesterday I
+received a letter from him thou wottest of; he is coming soon.&nbsp;
+God bless you, young man; who would have thought thou knewest so much!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+So, after we had taken our farewell of the good family, we departed,
+proceeding in the direction of Wales.&nbsp; Peter was very cheerful,
+and enlivened the way with godly discourse and spiritual hymns, some
+of which were in the Welsh language.&nbsp; At length I said, &lsquo;It
+is a pity that you did not continue in the Church; you have a turn for
+Psalmody, and I have heard of a man becoming a bishop by means of a
+less qualification.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very probably,&rsquo; said Peter; &lsquo;more the pity.&nbsp;
+But I have told you the reason of my forsaking it.&nbsp; Frequently,
+when I went to the church door, I found it barred, and the priest absent;
+what was I to do?&nbsp; My heart was bursting for want of some religious
+help and comfort; what could I do? as good Master Rees Pritchard observes
+in his &ldquo;Candle for Welshmen&rdquo;:-<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&ldquo;It is a doleful thing to see little children burning on
+the hot coals for want of help; but yet more doleful to see a flock
+of souls falling into the burning lake for want of a priest.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Church of England is a fine church,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I
+would not advise any one to speak ill of the Church of England before
+me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have nothing to say against the church,&rsquo; said Peter;
+&lsquo;all I wish is that it would fling itself a little more open,
+and that its priests would a little more bestir themselves; in a word,
+that it would shoulder the cross and become a missionary church.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is too proud for that,&rsquo; said Winifred.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are much more of a Methodist,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;than
+your husband.&nbsp; But tell me,&rsquo; said I, addressing myself to
+Peter, &lsquo;do you not differ from the church in some points of doctrine?&nbsp;
+I, of course, as a true member of the church, am quite ignorant of the
+peculiar opinions of wandering sectaries.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh the pride of that church!&rsquo; said Winifred, half to herself;
+&lsquo;wandering sectaries!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We differ in no points of doctrine,&rsquo; said Peter; &lsquo;we
+believe all the church believes, though we are not so fond of vain and
+superfluous ceremonies, snow-white neckcloths and surplices, as the
+church is.&nbsp; We likewise think that there is no harm in a sermon
+by the road-side, or in holding free discourse with a beggar beneath
+a hedge, or a tinker,&rsquo; he added, smiling; &lsquo;it was those
+superfluous ceremonies, those surplices and white neckcloths, and, above
+all, the necessity of strictly regulating his words and conversation,
+which drove John Wesley out of the church, and sent him wandering up
+and down as you see me, poor Welsh Peter, do.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Nothing farther passed for some time; we were now drawing near the hills:
+at last I said, &lsquo;You must have met with a great many strange adventures
+since you took up this course of life?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Many,&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;it has been my lot to meet with;
+but none more strange than one which occurred to me only a few weeks
+ago.&nbsp; You were asking me, not long since, whether I believed in
+devils?&nbsp; Ay, truly, young man; and I believe that the abyss and
+the yet deeper unknown do not contain them all; some walk about upon
+the green earth.&nbsp; So it happened, some weeks ago, that I was exercising
+my ministry about forty miles from here.&nbsp; I was alone, Winifred
+being slightly indisposed, staying for a few days at the house of an
+acquaintance; I had finished afternoon&rsquo;s worship - the people
+had dispersed, and I was sitting solitary by my cart under some green
+trees in a quiet retired place; suddenly a voice said to me, &ldquo;Good-evening,
+Pastor&rdquo;; I looked up, and before me stood a man, at least the
+appearance of a man, dressed in a black suit of rather a singular fashion.&nbsp;
+He was about my own age, or somewhat older.&nbsp; As I looked upon him,
+it appeared to me that I had seen him twice before whilst preaching.&nbsp;
+I replied to his salutation, and perceiving that he looked somewhat
+fatigued, I took out a stool from the cart, and asked him to sit down.&nbsp;
+We began to discourse; I at first supposed that he might be one of ourselves,
+some wandering minister; but I was soon undeceived.&nbsp; Neither his
+language nor his ideas were those of any one of our body.&nbsp; He spoke
+on all kinds of matters with much fluency; till at last he mentioned
+my preaching, complimenting me on my powers.&nbsp; I replied, as well
+I might, that I could claim no merit of my own, and that if I spoke
+with any effect, it was only by the grace of God.&nbsp; As I uttered
+these last words, a horrible kind of sneer came over his countenance,
+which made me shudder, for there was something diabolical in it.&nbsp;
+I said little more, but listened attentively to his discourse.&nbsp;
+At last he said that I was engaged in a paltry cause, quite unworthy
+of one of my powers.&nbsp; &ldquo;How can that be,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;even
+if I possessed all the powers in the world, seeing that I am engaged
+in the cause of our Lord Jesus?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The same kind of sneer again came on his countenance, but he
+almost instantly observed, that if I chose to forsake this same miserable
+cause, from which nothing but contempt and privation was to be expected,
+he would enlist me into another, from which I might expect both profit
+and renown.&nbsp; An idea now came into my head, and I told him firmly
+that if he wished me to forsake my present profession and become a member
+of the Church of England, I must absolutely decline; that I had no ill-will
+against that church, but I thought I could do most good in my present
+position, which I would not forsake to be Archbishop of Canterbury.&nbsp;
+Thereupon he burst into a strange laughter, and went away, repeating
+to himself, &ldquo;Church of England!&nbsp; Archbishop of Canterbury!&rdquo;&nbsp;
+A few days after, when I was once more in a solitary place, he again
+appeared before me, and asked me whether I had thought over his words,
+and whether I was willing to enlist under the banners of his master,
+adding that he was eager to secure me, as he conceived that I might
+be highly useful to the cause.&nbsp; I then asked him who his master
+was; he hesitated for a moment, and then answered, &ldquo;The Roman
+Pontiff.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;If it be he,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;I can
+have nothing to do with him; I will serve no one who is an enemy of
+Christ.&rdquo;&nbsp; Thereupon he drew near to me, and told me not to
+talk so much like a simpleton; that as for Christ, it was probable that
+no such person ever existed, but that if He ever did, He was the greatest
+impostor the world ever saw.&nbsp; How long he continued in this way
+I know not, for I now considered that an evil spirit was before me,
+and shrank within myself, shivering in every limb; when I recovered
+myself and looked about me, he was gone.&nbsp; Two days after, he again
+stood before me, in the same place, and about the same hour, renewing
+his propositions, and speaking more horribly than before.&nbsp; I made
+him no answer; whereupon he continued; but suddenly hearing a noise
+behind him, he looked round and beheld Winifred, who had returned to
+me on the morning of that day.&nbsp; &ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; said
+he, fiercely.&nbsp; &ldquo;This man&rsquo;s wife,&rdquo; said she, calmly
+fixing her eyes upon him.&nbsp; &ldquo;Begone from him, unhappy one,
+thou temptest him in vain.&rdquo;&nbsp; He made no answer, but stood
+as if transfixed: at length, recovering himself, he departed, muttering
+&ldquo;Wife! wife!&nbsp; If the fool has a wife, he will never do for
+us.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The border - Thank you both - Pipe and fiddle - Taliesin.<br>
+<br>
+We were now drawing very near the hills, and Peter said, &lsquo;If you
+are to go into Wales, you must presently decide, for we are close upon
+the border.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Which is the border?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yon small brook,&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;into which the man
+on horseback who is coming towards us is now entering.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I see it,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and the man; he stops in the
+middle of it, as if to water his steed.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+We proceeded till we had nearly reached the brook.&nbsp; &lsquo;Well,&rsquo;
+said Peter, &lsquo;will you go into Wales?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What should I do in Wales?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do!&rsquo; said Peter, smiling, &lsquo;learn Welsh.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I stopped my little pony.&nbsp; &lsquo;Then I need not go into Wales;
+I already know Welsh.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Know Welsh!&rsquo; said Peter, staring at me.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Know Welsh!&rsquo; said Winifred, stopping her cart.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How and when did you learn it?&rsquo; said Peter.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;From books, in my boyhood.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Read Welsh!&rsquo; said Peter; &lsquo;is it possible?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Read Welsh!&rsquo; said Winifred; &lsquo;is it possible?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, I hope you will come with us,&rsquo; said Peter.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come with us, young man,&rsquo; said Winifred; &lsquo;let me,
+on the other side of the brook, welcome you into Wales.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Thank you both,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but I will not come.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Wherefore?&rsquo; exclaimed both, simultaneously.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because it is neither fit nor proper that I cross into Wales
+at this time, and in this manner.&nbsp; When I go into Wales, I should
+wish to go in a new suit of superfine black, with hat and beaver, mounted
+on a powerful steed, black and glossy, like that which bore Greduv to
+the fight of Catraeth.&nbsp; I should wish, moreover, to see the Welshmen
+assembled on the border ready to welcome me with pipe and fiddle, and
+much whooping and shouting, and to attend me to Wrexham, or even as
+far as Machynllaith, where I should wish to be invited to a dinner at
+which all the bards should be present, and to be seated at the right
+hand of the president, who, when the cloth was removed, should arise,
+and, amidst cries of silence, exclaim - &ldquo;Brethren and Welshmen,
+allow me to propose the health of my most respectable friend the translator
+of the odes of the great Ab Gwilym, the pride and glory of Wales.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How!&rsquo; said Peter, &lsquo;hast thou translated the works
+of the mighty Dafydd?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;With notes critical, historical, and explanatory.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come with us, friend,&rsquo; said Peter.&nbsp; &lsquo;I cannot
+promise such a dinner as thou wishest, but neither pipe nor fiddle shall
+be wanting.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come with us, young man,&rsquo; said Winifred, &lsquo;even as
+thou art, and the daughters of Wales shall bid thee welcome.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will not go with you,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Dost thou
+see that man in the ford?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is staring at us so, and whose horse has not yet done drinking?&nbsp;
+Of course I see him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I shall turn back with him.&nbsp; God bless you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Go back with him not,&rsquo; said Peter; &lsquo;he is one of
+those whom I like not, one of the clibberty-clabber, as Master Ellis
+Wyn observes - turn not with that man.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Go not back with him,&rsquo; said Winifred.&nbsp; &lsquo;If thou
+goest with that man, thou wilt soon forget all our profitable counsels;
+come with us.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I cannot; I have much to say to him.&nbsp; Kosko Divvus, Mr.
+Petulengro.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Kosko Divvus, Pal,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro, riding through
+the water; &lsquo;are you turning back?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I turned back with Mr. Petulengro.<br>
+<br>
+Peter came running after me: &lsquo;One moment, young man, - who and
+what are you?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I must answer in the words of Taliesin,&rsquo; said I: &lsquo;none
+can say with positiveness whether I be fish or flesh, least of all myself.&nbsp;
+God bless you both!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Take this,&rsquo; said Peter, and he thrust his Welsh Bible into
+my hand.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXXI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+At a funeral - Two days ago - Very coolly - Roman woman - Well and hearty
+- Somewhat dreary - Plum pudding - Roman fashion - Quite different -
+The dark lane - Beyond the time - Fine fellow - Such a struggle - Like
+a wild cat - Fair Play - Pleasant enough spot - No gloves.<br>
+<br>
+So I turned back with Mr. Petulengro.&nbsp; We travelled for some time
+in silence; at last we fell into discourse.&nbsp; &lsquo;You have been
+in Wales, Mr. Petulengro?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, truly, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What have you been doing there?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Assisting at a funeral.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;At whose funeral?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Mrs. Herne&rsquo;s, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is she dead, then?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As a nail, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How did she die?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By hanging, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am lost in astonishment,&rsquo; said I; whereupon Mr. Petulengro,
+lifting his sinister leg over the neck of his steed, and adjusting himself
+sideways in the saddle, replied, with great deliberation, &lsquo;Two
+days ago I happened to be at a fair not very far from here; I was all
+alone by myself, for our party were upwards of forty miles off, when
+who should come up but a chap that I knew, a relation, or rather a connection,
+of mine - one of those Hernes.&nbsp; &ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you going to
+the funeral?&rdquo; said he; and then, brother, there passed between
+him and me, in the way of questioning and answering, much the same as
+has just now passed between me and you; but when he mentioned hanging,
+I thought I could do no less than ask who hanged her, which you forgot
+to do.&nbsp; &ldquo;Who hanged her?&rdquo; said I; and then the man
+told me that she had done it herself; been her own hinjiri; and then
+I thought to myself what a sin and shame it would be if I did not go
+to the funeral, seeing that she was my own mother-in-law.&nbsp; I would
+have brought my wife, and, indeed, the whole of our party, but there
+was no time for that; they were too far off, and the dead was to be
+buried early the next morning; so I went with the man, and he led me
+into Wales, where his party had lately retired, and when there, through
+many wild and desolate places to their encampment, and there I found
+the Hernes, and the dead body - the last laid out on a mattress, in
+a tent, dressed Romaneskoenaes in a red cloak, and big bonnet of black
+beaver.&nbsp; I must say for the Hernes that they took the matter very
+coolly; some were eating, others drinking, and some were talking about
+their small affairs; there was one, however, who did not take the matter
+so coolly, but took on enough for the whole family, sitting beside the
+dead woman, tearing her hair, and refusing to take either meat or drink;
+it was the child Leonora.&nbsp; I arrived at night-fall, and the burying
+was not to take place till the morning, which I was rather sorry for,
+as I am not very fond of them Hernes, who are not very fond of anybody.&nbsp;
+They never asked me to eat or drink, notwithstanding I had married into
+the family; one of them, however, came up and offered to fight me for
+five shillings; had it not been for them I should have come back as
+empty as I went - he didn&rsquo;t stand up five minutes.&nbsp; Brother,
+I passed the night as well as I could, beneath a tree, for the tents
+were full, and not over clean; I slept little, and had my eyes about
+me, for I knew the kind of people I was among.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Early in the morning the funeral took place.&nbsp; The body was
+placed not in a coffin but on a bier, and carried not to a churchyard
+but to a deep dell close by; and there it was buried beneath a rock,
+dressed just as I have told you; and this was done by the bidding of
+Leonora, who had heard her bebee say that she wished to be buried, not
+in gorgious fashion, but like a Roman woman of the old blood, the kosko
+puro rati, brother.&nbsp; When it was over, and we had got back to the
+encampment, I prepared to be going.&nbsp; Before mounting my gry, however,
+I bethought me to ask what could have induced the dead woman to make
+away with herself - a thing so uncommon amongst Romanies; whereupon
+one squinted with his eyes, a second spirted saliver into the air, and
+a third said that he neither knew nor cared; she was a good riddance,
+having more than once been nearly the ruin of them all, from the quantity
+of brimstone she carried about her.&nbsp; One, however, I suppose rather
+ashamed of the way in which they had treated me, said at last that if
+I wanted to know all about the matter none could tell me better than
+the child, who was in all her secrets, and was not a little like her;
+so I looked about for the child, but could find her nowhere.&nbsp; At
+last the same man told me that he shouldn&rsquo;t wonder if I found
+her at the grave; so I went back to the grave, and sure enough there
+I found the child Leonora, seated on the ground above the body, crying
+and taking on; so I spoke kindly to her, and said, &ldquo;How came all
+this, Leonora? tell me all about it.&rdquo;&nbsp; It was a long time
+before I could get any answer; at last she opened her mouth and spoke,
+and these were the words she said, &ldquo;It was all along of your Pal&rdquo;;
+and then she told me all about the matter - how Mrs. Herne could not
+abide you, which I knew before; and that she had sworn your destruction,
+which I did not know before.&nbsp; And then she told me how she found
+you living in the wood by yourself, and how you were enticed to eat
+a poisoned cake; and she told me many other things that you wot of,
+and she told me what perhaps you don&rsquo;t wot, namely, that finding
+you had been removed, she, the child, had tracked you a long way, and
+found you at last well and hearty, and no ways affected by the poison,
+and heard you, as she stood concealed, disputing about religion with
+a Welsh Methody.&nbsp; Well, brother, she told me all this; and, moreover,
+that when Mrs. Herne heard of it, she said that a dream of hers had
+come to pass.&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t know what it was, but something about
+herself, a tinker, and a dean; and then she added that it was all up
+with her, and that she must take a long journey.&nbsp; Well, brother,
+that same night Leonora, waking from her sleep in the tent where Mrs.
+Herne and she were wont to sleep, missed her bebee, and, becoming alarmed,
+went in search of her, and at last found her hanging from a branch;
+and when the child had got so far, she took on violently, and I could
+not get another word from her; so I left her, and here I am.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And I am glad to see you, Mr. Petulengro; but this is sad news
+which you tell me about Mrs. Herne.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Somewhat dreary, brother; yet, perhaps, after all, it is a good
+thing that she is removed; she carried so much Devil&rsquo;s tinder
+about with her, as the man said.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am sorry for her,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;more especially as
+I am the cause of her death - though the innocent one.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;She could not bide you, brother, that&rsquo;s certain; but that
+is no reason&rsquo; - said Mr. Petulengro, balancing himself upon the
+saddle - &lsquo;that is no reason why she should prepare drow to take
+away your essence of life; and, when disappointed, to hang herself upon
+a tree: if she was dissatisfied with you, she might have flown at you,
+and scratched your face; or, if she did not judge herself your match,
+she might have put down five shillings for a turn-up between you and
+some one she thought could beat you - myself, for example - and so the
+matter might have ended comfortably; but she was always too fond of
+covert ways, drows, and brimstones.&nbsp; This is not the first poisoning
+affair she has been engaged in.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You allude to drabbing bawlor.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bah!&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro; &lsquo;there&rsquo;s no harm
+in that.&nbsp; No, no! she has cast drows in her time for other guess
+things than bawlor; both Gorgios and Romans have tasted of them, and
+died.&nbsp; Did you never hear of the poisoned plum pudding?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then I will tell you about it.&nbsp; It happened about six years
+ago, a few months after she had quitted us - she had gone first amongst
+her own people, as she called them; but there was another small party
+of Romans, with whom she soon became very intimate.&nbsp; It so happened
+that this small party got into trouble; whether it was about a horse
+or an ass, or passing bad money, no matter to you and me, who had no
+hand in the business; three or four of them were taken and lodged in
+- Castle, and amongst them was a woman; but the sherengro, or principal
+man of the party, and who it seems had most hand in the affair, was
+still at large.&nbsp; All of a sudden a rumour was spread abroad that
+the woman was about to play false, and to &rsquo;peach the rest.&nbsp;
+Said the principal man, when he heard it, &ldquo;If she does, I am nashkado.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+Mrs. Herne was then on a visit to the party, and when she heard the
+principal man take on so, she said, &ldquo;But I suppose you know what
+to do?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;I do not,&rdquo; said he.&nbsp; &ldquo;Then
+hir mi devlis,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;you are a fool.&nbsp; But leave
+the matter to me, I know how to dispose of her in Roman fashion.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+Why she wanted to interfere in the matter, brother, I don&rsquo;t know,
+unless it was from pure brimstoneness of disposition - she had no hand
+in the matter which had brought the party into trouble - she was only
+on a visit, and it had happened before she came; but she was always
+ready to give dangerous advice.&nbsp; Well, brother, the principal man
+listened to what she had to say, and let her do what she would; and
+she made a pudding, a very nice one, no doubt - for, besides plums,
+she put in drows and all the Roman condiments that she knew of; and
+she gave it to the principal man, and the principal put it into a basket
+and directed it to the woman in - Castle, and the woman in the castle
+took it and - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ate of it,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;just like my case!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Quite different, brother; she took it, it is true, but instead
+of giving way to her appetite, as you might have done, she put it before
+the rest whom she was going to impeach; perhaps she wished to see how
+they liked it before she tasted it herself; and all the rest were poisoned,
+and one died, and there was a precious outcry, and the woman cried loudest
+of all; and she said, &ldquo;It was my death was sought for; I know
+the man, and I&rsquo;ll be revenged.&rdquo;&nbsp; And then the Poknees
+spoke to her and said, &ldquo;Where can we find him?&rdquo; and she
+said, &ldquo;I am awake to his motions; three weeks from hence, the
+night before the full moon, at such and such an hour, he will pass down
+such a lane with such a man.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and what did the Poknees do?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do, brother! sent for a plastramengro from Bow Street, quite
+secretly, and told him what the woman had said; and the night before
+the full moon, the plastramengro went to the place which the juwa had
+pointed out, all alone, brother; and in order that he might not be too
+late, he went two hours before his time.&nbsp; I know the place well,
+brother, where the plastramengro placed himself behind a thick holly
+tree, at the end of a lane, where a gate leads into various fields,
+through which there is a path for carts and horses.&nbsp; The lane is
+called the dark lane by the Gorgios, being much shaded by trees.&nbsp;
+So the plastramengro placed himself in the dark lane behind the holly
+tree; it was a cold February night, dreary though; the wind blew in
+gusts, and the moon had not yet risen, and the plastramengro waited
+behind the tree till he was tired, and thought he might as well sit
+down; so he sat down, and was not long in falling to sleep, and there
+he slept for some hours; and when he awoke the moon had risen, and was
+shining bright, so that there was a kind of moonlight even in the dark
+lane; and the plastramengro pulled out his watch, and contrived to make
+out that it was just two hours beyond the time when the men should have
+passed by.&nbsp; Brother, I do not know what the plastramengro thought
+of himself, but I know, brother, what I should have thought of myself
+in his situation.&nbsp; I should have thought, brother, that I was a
+drowsy scoppelo, and that I had let the fellow pass by whilst I was
+sleeping behind a bush.&nbsp; As it turned out, however, his going to
+sleep did no harm, but quite the contrary: just as he was going away,
+he heard a gate slam in the direction of the fields, and then he heard
+the low stumping of horses, as if on soft ground, for the path in those
+fields is generally soft, and at that time it had been lately ploughed
+up.&nbsp; Well, brother, presently he saw two men on horseback coming
+towards the lane through the field behind the gate; the man who rode
+foremost was a tall big fellow, the very man he was in quest of; the
+other was a smaller chap, not so small either, but a light, wiry fellow,
+and a proper master of his hands when he sees occasion for using them.&nbsp;
+Well, brother, the foremost man came to the gate, reached at the hank,
+undid it, and rode through, holding it open for the other.&nbsp; Before,
+however, the other could follow into the lane, out bolted the plastramengro
+from behind the tree, kicked the gate to with his foot, and, seizing
+the big man on horse-back, &ldquo;You are my prisoner,&rdquo; said he.&nbsp;
+I am of opinion, brother, that the plastramengro, notwithstanding he
+went to sleep, must have been a regular fine fellow.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am entirely of your opinion,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but what
+happened then?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, brother, the Rommany chal, after he had somewhat recovered
+from his surprise, for it is rather uncomfortable to be laid hold of
+at night-time, and told you are a prisoner; more especially when you
+happen to have two or three things on your mind which, if proved against
+you, would carry you to the nashky, - the Rommany chal, I say, clubbed
+his whip, and aimed a blow at the plastramengro, which, if it had hit
+him on the skull, as was intended, would very likely have cracked it.&nbsp;
+The plastramengro, however, received it partly on his staff, so that
+it did him no particular damage.&nbsp; Whereupon, seeing what kind of
+customer he had to deal with, he dropped his staff and seized the chal
+with both his hands, who forthwith spurred his horse, hoping, by doing
+so, either to break away from him or fling him down; but it would not
+do - the plastramengro held on like a bull-dog, so that the Rommany
+chal, to escape being hauled to the ground, suddenly flung himself off
+the saddle, and then happened in that lane, close by the gate, such
+a struggle between those two - the chal and the runner - as I suppose
+will never happen again.&nbsp; But you must have heard of it; every
+one has heard of it; every one has heard of the fight between the Bow
+Street engro and the Rommany chal.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never heard of it till now.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;All England rung of it, brother.&nbsp; There never was a better
+match than between those two.&nbsp; The runner was somewhat the stronger
+of the two - all those engroes are strong fellows - and a great deal
+cooler, for all of that sort are wondrous cool people - he had, however,
+to do with one who knew full well how to take his own part.&nbsp; The
+chal fought the engro, brother, in the old Roman fashion.&nbsp; He bit,
+he kicked, and screamed like a wild cat of Benygant; casting foam from
+his mouth and fire from his eyes.&nbsp; Sometimes he was beneath the
+engro&rsquo;s legs, and sometimes he was upon his shoulders.&nbsp; What
+the engro found the most difficult was to get a firm hold of the chal,
+for no sooner did he seize the chal by any part of his wearing apparel,
+than the chal either tore himself away, or contrived to slip out of
+it; so that in a little time the chal was three parts naked; and as
+for holding him by the body, it was out of the question, for he was
+as slippery as an eel.&nbsp; At last the engro seized the chal by the
+Belcher&rsquo;s handkerchief, which he wore in a knot round his neck,
+and do whatever the chal could, he could not free himself; and when
+the engro saw that, it gave him fresh heart, no doubt: &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
+of no use,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;you had better give in; hold out your
+hands for the darbies, or I will throttle you.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what did the other fellow do, who came with the chal?&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I sat still on my horse, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You!&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Were you the man?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was he, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And why did you not help your comrade?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have fought in the ring, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what had fighting in the ring to do with fighting in the
+lane?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You mean not fighting.&nbsp; A great deal, brother; it taught
+me to prize fair play.&nbsp; When I fought Staffordshire Dick, t&rsquo;other
+side of London, I was alone, brother.&nbsp; Not a Rommany chal to back
+me, and he had all his brother pals about him; but they gave me fair
+play, brother; and I beat Staffordshire Dick, which I couldn&rsquo;t
+have done had they put one finger on his side the scale; for he was
+as good a man as myself, or nearly so.&nbsp; Now, brother, had I but
+bent a finger in favour of the Rommany chal, the plastramengro would
+never have come alive out of the lane; but I did not, for I thought
+to myself fair play is a precious stone; so you see, brother - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That you are quite right, Mr. Petulengro, I see that clearly;
+and now, pray proceed with your narration; it is both moral and entertaining.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But Mr. Petulengro did not proceed with his narration, neither did he
+proceed upon his way; he had stopped his horse, and his eyes were intently
+fixed on a broad strip of grass beneath some lofty trees, on the left
+side of the road.&nbsp; It was a pleasant enough spot, and seemed to
+invite wayfaring people, such as we were, to rest from the fatigues
+of the road, and the heat and vehemence of the sun.&nbsp; After examining
+it for a considerable time, Mr. Petulengro said, &lsquo;I say, brother,
+that would be a nice place for a tussle!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I daresay it would,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;if two people were
+inclined to fight.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The ground is smooth,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro; &lsquo;without
+holes or ruts, and the trees cast much shade.&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t think,
+brother, that we could find a better place,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro,
+springing from his horse.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But you and I don&rsquo;t want to fight!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Speak for yourself, brother,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;However, I will tell you how the matter stands.&nbsp; There is
+a point at present between us.&nbsp; There can be no doubt that you
+are the cause of Mrs. Herne&rsquo;s death, innocently, you will say,
+but still the cause.&nbsp; Now, I shouldn&rsquo;t like it to be known
+that I went up and down the country with a pal who was the cause of
+my mother-in-law&rsquo;s death, that&rsquo;s to say, unless he gave
+me satisfaction.&nbsp; Now, if I and my pal have a tussle, he gives
+me satisfaction; and, if he knocks my eyes out, which I know you can&rsquo;t
+do, it makes no difference at all, he gives me satisfaction; and he
+who says to the contrary knows nothing of gypsy law, and is a dinelo
+into the bargain.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But we have no gloves!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Gloves!&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro, contemptuously, &lsquo;gloves!&nbsp;
+I tell you what, brother, I always thought you were a better hand at
+the gloves than the naked fist; and, to tell you the truth, besides
+taking satisfaction for Mrs. Herne&rsquo;s death, I wish to see what
+you can do with your mawleys; so now is your time, brother, and this
+is your place, grass and shade, no ruts or holes; come on, brother,
+or I shall think you what I should not like to call you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXXII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Offence and defence - I&rsquo;m satisfied - Fond of solitude - Possession
+of property - Chal Devlehi - Winding path.<br>
+<br>
+And when I heard Mr. Petulengro talk in this manner, which I had never
+heard him do before, and which I can only account for by his being fasting
+and ill-tempered, I had of course no other alternative than to accept
+his challenge; so I put myself into a posture which I deemed the best
+both for offence and defence, and the tussle commenced; and when it
+had endured for about half an hour, Mr. Petulengro said, &lsquo;Brother,
+there is much blood on your face; you had better wipe it off&rsquo;;
+and when I had wiped it off, and again resumed my former attitude, Mr.
+Petulengro said, &lsquo;I think enough has been done, brother, in the
+affair of the old woman; I have, moreover, tried what you are able to
+do, and find you, as I thought, less apt with the naked mawleys than
+the stuffed gloves; nay, brother, put your hands down, I&rsquo;m satisfied;
+blood has been shed, which is all that can be reasonably expected for
+an old woman who carried so much brimstone about her as Mrs. Herne.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+So the struggle ended, and we resumed our route, Mr. Petulengro sitting
+sideways upon his horse as before, and I driving my little pony-cart;
+and when we had proceeded about three miles, we came to a small public-house,
+which bore the sign of the Silent Woman, where we stopped to refresh
+our cattle and ourselves; and as we sat over our bread and ale, it came
+to pass that Mr. Petulengro asked me various questions, and amongst
+others, how I intended to dispose of myself; I told him that I did not
+know; whereupon, with considerable frankness, he invited me to his camp,
+and told me that if I chose to settle down amongst them, and become
+a Rommany chal, I should have his wife&rsquo;s sister Ursula, who was
+still unmarried, and occasionally talked of me.<br>
+<br>
+I declined his offer, assigning as a reason the recent death of Mrs.
+Herne, of which I was the cause, although innocent.&nbsp; &lsquo;A pretty
+life I should lead with those two,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;when they came
+to know it.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Pooh,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro, &lsquo;they
+will never know it.&nbsp; I shan&rsquo;t blab, and as for Leonora, that
+girl has a head on her shoulders.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Unlike the woman
+in the sign,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;whose head is cut off.&nbsp; You
+speak nonsense, Mr. Petulengro; as long as a woman has a head on her
+shoulders she&rsquo;ll talk, - but, leaving women out of the case, it
+is impossible to keep anything a secret; an old master of mine told
+me so long ago.&nbsp; I have moreover another reason for declining your
+offer.&nbsp; I am at present not disposed for society.&nbsp; I am become
+fond of solitude.&nbsp; I wish I could find some quiet place to which
+I could retire to hold communion with my own thoughts, and practise,
+if I thought fit, either of my trades.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;What trades?&rsquo;
+said Mr. Petulengro.&nbsp; &lsquo;Why, the one which I have lately been
+engaged in, or my original one, which I confess I should like better,
+that of a kaulo-mescro.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah, I have frequently heard
+you talk of making horse-shoes,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro; &lsquo;I,
+however, never saw you make one, and no one else that I am aware; I
+don&rsquo;t believe - come, brother, don&rsquo;t be angry, it&rsquo;s
+quite possible that you may have done things which neither I nor any
+one else has seen you do, and that such things may some day or other
+come to light, as you say nothing can be kept secret.&nbsp; Be that,
+however, as it may, pay the reckoning and let us be going; I think I
+can advise you to just such a kind of place as you seem to want.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And how do you know that I have got wherewithal to pay the reckoning?&rsquo;
+I demanded.&nbsp; &lsquo;Brother,&rsquo; said Mr. Petulengro, &lsquo;I
+was just now looking in your face, which exhibited the very look of
+a person conscious of the possession of property; there was nothing
+hungry or sneaking in it.&nbsp; Pay the reckoning, brother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And when we were once more upon the road, Mr. Petulengro began to talk
+of the place which he conceived would serve me as a retreat under present
+circumstances.&nbsp; &lsquo;I tell you frankly, brother, that it is
+a queer kind of place, and I am not very fond of pitching my tent in
+it, it is so surprisingly dreary.&nbsp; It is a deep dingle in the midst
+of a large field, on an estate about which there has been a lawsuit
+for some years past.&nbsp; I daresay you will be quiet enough, for the
+nearest town is five miles distant, and there are only a few huts and
+hedge public-houses in the neighbourhood.&nbsp; Brother, I am fond of
+solitude myself, but not that kind of solitude; I like a quiet heath,
+where I can pitch my house, but I always like to have a gay stirring
+place not far off, where the women can pen dukkerin, and I myself can
+sell or buy a horse, if needful - such a place as the Chong Gav.&nbsp;
+I never feel so merry as when there, brother, or on the heath above
+it, where I taught you Rommany.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Shortly after this discourse we reached a milestone, and a few yards
+from the milestone, on the left hand, was a crossroad.&nbsp; Thereupon
+Mr. Petulengro said, &lsquo;Brother, my path lies to the left if you
+choose to go with me to my camp, good; if not, Chal Devlehi.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+But I again refused Mr. Petulengro&rsquo;s invitation, and, shaking
+him by the hand, proceeded forward alone; and about ten miles farther
+on I reached the town of which he had spoken, and, following certain
+directions which he had given, discovered, though not without some difficulty,
+the dingle which he had mentioned.&nbsp; It was a deep hollow in the
+midst of a wide field; the shelving sides were overgrown with trees
+and bushes, a belt of sallows surrounded it on the top, a steep winding
+path led down into the depths, practicable, however, for a light cart,
+like mine; at the bottom was an open space, and there I pitched my tent,
+and there I contrived to put up my forge.&nbsp; &lsquo;I will here ply
+the trade of kaulomescro,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXXIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Highly poetical - Volundr - Grecian mythology - Making a petul - Tongues
+of flame - Hammering - Spite of dukkerin - Heaviness.<br>
+<br>
+It has always struck me that there is something highly poetical about
+a forge.&nbsp; I am not singular in this opinion: various individuals
+have assured me that they can never pass by one, even in the midst of
+a crowded town, without experiencing sensations which they can scarcely
+define, but which are highly pleasurable.&nbsp; I have a decided penchant
+for forges, especially rural ones, placed in some quaint quiet spot
+- a dingle, for example, which is a poetical place, or at a meeting
+of four roads, which is still more so; for how many a superstition -
+and superstition is the soul of poetry - is connected with these cross
+roads!&nbsp; I love to light upon such a one, especially after nightfall,
+as everything about a forge tells to most advantage at night; the hammer
+sounds more solemnly in the stillness; the glowing particles scattered
+by the strokes sparkle with more effect in the darkness, whilst the
+sooty visage of the sastramescro, half in shadow and half illumed by
+the red and partial blaze of the forge, looks more mysterious and strange.&nbsp;
+On such occasions I draw in my horse&rsquo;s rein, and, seated in the
+saddle, endeavour to associate with the picture before me - in itself
+a picture of romance - whatever of the wild and wonderful I have read
+of in books, or have seen with my own eyes in connection with forges.<br>
+<br>
+I believe the life of any blacksmith, especially a rural one, would
+afford materials for a highly poetical history.&nbsp; I do not speak
+unadvisedly, having the honour to be free of the forge, and therefore
+fully competent to give an opinion as to what might be made out of the
+forge by some dexterous hand.&nbsp; Certainly, the strangest and most
+entertaining life ever written is that of a blacksmith of the olden
+north, a certain Volundr, or Velint, who lived in woods and thickets,
+made keen swords - so keen, indeed, that if placed in a running stream
+they would fairly divide an object, however slight, which was borne
+against them by the water, and who eventually married a king&rsquo;s
+daughter, by whom he had a son, who was as bold a knight as his father
+was a cunning blacksmith.&nbsp; I never see a forge at night, when seated
+on the back of my horse, at the bottom of a dark lane, but I somehow
+or other associate it with the exploits of this extraordinary fellow,
+with many other extraordinary things, amongst which, as I have hinted
+before, are particular passages of my own life, one or two of which
+I shall perhaps relate to the reader.<br>
+<br>
+I never associate Vulcan and his Cyclops with the idea of a forge.&nbsp;
+These gentry would be the very last people in the world to flit across
+my mind whilst gazing at the forge from the bottom of the dark lane.&nbsp;
+The truth is, they are highly unpoetical fellows, as well they may be,
+connected as they are with the Grecian mythology.&nbsp; At the very
+mention of their names the forge burns dull and dim, as if snowballs
+had been suddenly flung into it; the only remedy is to ply the bellows,
+an operation which I now hasten to perform.<br>
+<br>
+I am in the dingle making a horse-shoe.&nbsp; Having no other horses
+on whose hoofs I could exercise my art, I made my first essay on those
+of my own horse, if that could be called horse which horse was none,
+being only a pony.&nbsp; Perhaps, if I had sought all England, I should
+scarcely have found an animal more in need of the kind offices of the
+smith.&nbsp; On three of his feet there were no shoes at all, and on
+the fourth only a remnant of one, on which account his hoofs were sadly
+broken and lacerated by his late journeys over the hard and flinty roads.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;You belonged to a tinker before,&rsquo; said I, addressing the
+animal, &lsquo;but now you belong to a smith.&nbsp; It is said that
+the household of the shoemaker invariably go worse shod than that of
+any other craft.&nbsp; That may be the case of those who make shoes
+of leather, but it shan&rsquo;t be said of the household of him who
+makes shoes of iron; at any rate it shan&rsquo;t be said of mine.&nbsp;
+I tell you what, my gry, whilst you continue with me, you shall both
+be better shod and better fed than you were with your last master.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I am in the dingle making a petul; and I must here observe that whilst
+I am making a horse-shoe the reader need not be surprised if I speak
+occasionally in the language of the lord of the horse-shoe - Mr. Petulengro.&nbsp;
+I have for some time past been plying the peshota, or bellows, endeavouring
+to raise up the yag, or fire, in my primitive forge.&nbsp; The angar,
+or coals, are now burning fiercely, casting forth sparks and long vagescoe
+chipes, or tongues of flame; a small bar of sastra, or iron, is lying
+in the fire, to the length of ten or twelve inches, and so far it is
+hot, very hot, exceeding hot, brother.&nbsp; And now you see me prala,
+snatch the bar of iron, and place the heated end of it upon the covantza,
+or anvil, and forthwith I commence cooring the sastra as hard as if
+I had been just engaged by a master at the rate of dui caulor, or two
+shillings, a day, brother; and when I have beaten the iron till it is
+nearly cool, and my arm tired, I place it again in the angar, and begin
+again to rouse the fire with the pudamengro, which signifies the blowing
+thing, and is another and more common word for bellows; and whilst thus
+employed I sing a gypsy song, the sound of which is wonderfully in unison
+with the hoarse moaning of the pudamengro, and ere the song is finished,
+the iron is again hot and malleable.&nbsp; Behold, I place it once more
+on the covantza, and recommence hammering; and now I am somewhat at
+fault; I am in want of assistance; I want you, brother, or some one
+else, to take the bar out of my hand and support it upon the covantza,
+whilst I, applying a chinomescro, or kind of chisel, to the heated iron,
+cut off with a lusty stroke or two of the shukaro baro, or big hammer,
+as much as is required for the petul.&nbsp; But having no one to help
+me, I go on hammering till I have fairly knocked off as much as I want,
+and then I place the piece in the fire, and again apply the bellows,
+and take up the song where I left it off; and when I have finished the
+song, I take out the iron, but this time with my plaistra, or pincers,
+and then I recommence hammering, turning the iron round and round with
+my pincers: and now I bend the iron and, lo and behold! it has assumed
+something of the outline of a petul.<br>
+<br>
+I am not going to enter into farther details with respect to the process
+- it was rather a wearisome one.&nbsp; I had to contend with various
+disadvantages; my forge was a rude one, my tools might have been better;
+I was in want of one or two highly necessary implements, but, above
+all, manual dexterity.&nbsp; Though free of the forge, I had not practised
+the albeytarian art for very many years, never since - but stay, it
+is not my intention to tell the reader, at least in this place, how
+and when I became a blacksmith.&nbsp; There was one thing, however,
+which stood me in good stead in my labour, the same thing which through
+life has ever been of incalculable utility to me, and has not unfrequently
+supplied the place of friends, money, and many other things of almost
+equal importance - iron perseverance, without which all the advantages
+of time and circumstance are of very little avail in any undertaking.&nbsp;
+I was determined to make a horse-shoe, and a good one, in spite of every
+obstacle - ay, in spite of dukkerin.&nbsp; At the end of four days,
+during which I had fashioned and refashioned the thing at least fifty
+times, I had made a petul such as no master of the craft need have been
+ashamed of; with the second shoe I had less difficulty, and, by the
+time I had made the fourth, I would have scorned to take off my hat
+to the best smith in Cheshire.<br>
+<br>
+But I had not yet shod my little gry: this I proceeded now to do.&nbsp;
+After having first well pared the hoofs with my churi, I applied each
+petul hot, glowing hot, to the pindro.&nbsp; Oh, how the hoofs hissed!
+and, oh, the pleasant pungent odour which diffused itself through the
+dingle! - an odour good for an ailing spirit.<br>
+<br>
+I shod the little horse bravely - merely pricked him once, slightly,
+with a cafi, for doing which, I remember, he kicked me down; I was not
+disconcerted, however, but, getting up, promised to be more cautious
+in future; and having finished the operation, I filed the hoof well
+with the rin baro, then dismissed him to graze amongst the trees, and,
+putting my smaller tools into the muchtar, I sat down on my stone, and,
+supporting my arm upon my knee, leaned my head upon my hand.&nbsp; Heaviness
+had come over me.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXXIV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Several causes - Frogs and eftes - Gloom and twilight - What should
+I do? - &lsquo;Our Father&rsquo; - Fellow-men - What a mercy! - Almost
+calm - Fresh store - History of Saul - Pitch dark.<br>
+<br>
+Heaviness had suddenly come over me, heaviness of heart, and of body
+also.&nbsp; I had accomplished the task which I had imposed upon myself,
+and now that nothing more remained to do, my energies suddenly deserted
+me, and I felt without strength, and without hope.&nbsp; Several causes,
+perhaps, co-operated to bring about the state in which I then felt myself.&nbsp;
+It is not improbable that my energies had been overstrained during the
+work the progress of which I have attempted to describe; and every one
+is aware that the results of overstrained energies are feebleness and
+lassitude - want of nourishment might likewise have something to do
+with it.&nbsp; During my sojourn in the dingle, my food had been of
+the simplest and most unsatisfying description, by no means calculated
+to support the exertion which the labour I had been engaged upon required;
+it had consisted of coarse oaten cakes and hard cheese, and for beverage
+I had been indebted to a neighbouring pit, in which, in the heat of
+the day, I frequently saw, not golden or silver fish, but frogs and
+eftes swimming about.&nbsp; I am, however, inclined to believe that
+Mrs. Herne&rsquo;s cake had quite as much to do with the matter as insufficient
+nourishment.&nbsp; I had never entirely recovered from the effects of
+its poison, but had occasionally, especially at night, been visited
+by a grinding pain in the stomach, and my whole body had been suffused
+with cold sweat; and indeed these memorials of the drow have never entirely
+disappeared - even at the present time they display themselves in my
+system, especially after much fatigue of body and excitement of mind.&nbsp;
+So there I sat in the dingle upon my stone, nerveless and hopeless,
+by whatever cause or causes that state had been produced - there I sat
+with my head leaning upon my hand, and so I continued a long, long time.&nbsp;
+At last I lifted my head from my hand, and began to cast anxious, unquiet
+looks about the dingle - the entire hollow was now enveloped in deep
+shade - I cast my eyes up; there was a golden gleam on the tops of the
+trees which grew towards the upper parts of the dingle; but lower down
+all was gloom and twilight - yet, when I first sat down on my stone,
+the sun was right above the dingle, illuminating all its depths by the
+rays which it cast perpendicularly down - so I must have sat a long,
+long time upon my stone.&nbsp; And now, once more, I rested my head
+upon my hand, but almost instantly lifted it again in a kind of fear,
+and began looking at the objects before me - the forge, the tools, the
+branches of the trees, endeavouring to follow their rows, till they
+were lost in the darkness of the dingle; and now I found my right hand
+grasping convulsively the three fore-fingers of the left, first collectively,
+and then successively, wringing them till the joints cracked; then I
+became quiet, but not for long.<br>
+<br>
+Suddenly I started up, and could scarcely repress the shriek which was
+rising to my lips.&nbsp; Was it possible?&nbsp; Yes, all too certain;
+the evil one was upon me; the inscrutable horror which I had felt in
+my boyhood had once more taken possession of me.&nbsp; I had thought
+that it had forsaken me - that it would never visit me again; that I
+had outgrown it; that I might almost bid defiance to it; and I had even
+begun to think of it without horror, as we are in the habit of doing
+of horrors of which we conceive we run no danger; and lo! when least
+thought of, it had seized me again.&nbsp; Every moment I felt it gathering
+force, and making me more wholly its own.&nbsp; What should I do? -
+resist, of course; and I did resist.&nbsp; I grasped, I tore, and strove
+to fling it from me; but of what avail were my efforts?&nbsp; I could
+only have got rid of it by getting rid of myself: it was a part of myself,
+or rather it was all myself.&nbsp; I rushed amongst the trees, and struck
+at them with my bare fists, and dashed my head against them, but I felt
+no pain.&nbsp; How could I feel pain with that horror upon me?&nbsp;
+And then I flung myself on the ground, gnawed the earth, and swallowed
+it; and then I looked round; it was almost total darkness in the dingle,
+and the darkness added to my horror.&nbsp; I could no longer stay there;
+up I rose from the ground, and attempted to escape.&nbsp; At the bottom
+of the winding path which led up the acclivity I fell over something
+which was lying on the ground; the something moved, and gave a kind
+of whine.&nbsp; It was my little horse, which had made that place its
+lair; my little horse; my only companion and friend in that now awful
+solitude.&nbsp; I reached the mouth of the dingle; the sun was just
+sinking in the far west behind me, the fields were flooded with his
+last gleams.&nbsp; How beautiful everything looked in the last gleams
+of the sun!&nbsp; I felt relieved for a moment; I was no longer in the
+horrid dingle.&nbsp; In another minute the sun was gone, and a big cloud
+occupied the place where he had been: in a little time it was almost
+as dark as it had previously been in the open part of the dingle.&nbsp;
+My horror increased; what was I to do? - it was of no use fighting against
+the horror - that I saw; the more I fought against it, the stronger
+it became.&nbsp; What should I do: say my prayers?&nbsp; Ah! why not?&nbsp;
+So I knelt down under the hedge, and said, &lsquo;Our Father&rsquo;;
+but that was of no use; and now I could no longer repress cries - the
+horror was too great to be borne.&nbsp; What should I do? run to the
+nearest town or village, and request the assistance of my fellow-men?&nbsp;
+No! that I was ashamed to do; notwithstanding the horror was upon me,
+I was ashamed to do that.&nbsp; I knew they would consider me a maniac,
+if I went screaming amongst them; and I did not wish to be considered
+a maniac.&nbsp; Moreover, I knew that I was not a maniac, for I possessed
+all my reasoning powers, only the horror was upon me - the screaming
+horror!&nbsp; But how were indifferent people to distinguish between
+madness and the screaming horror?&nbsp; So I thought and reasoned; and
+at last I determined not to go amongst my fellow-men, whatever the result
+might be.&nbsp; I went to the mouth of the dingle, and there, placing
+myself on my knees, I again said the Lord&rsquo;s Prayer; but it was
+of no use - praying seemed to have no effect over the horror; the unutterable
+fear appeared rather to increase than diminish, and I again uttered
+wild cries, so loud that I was apprehensive they would be heard by some
+chance passenger on the neighbouring road; I therefore went deeper into
+the dingle.&nbsp; I sat down with my back against a thorn bush; the
+thorns entered my flesh, and when I felt them, I pressed harder against
+the bush; I thought the pain of the flesh might in some degree counteract
+the mental agony; presently I felt them no longer - the power of the
+mental horror was so great that it was impossible, with that upon me,
+to feel any pain from the thorns.&nbsp; I continued in this posture
+a long time, undergoing what I cannot describe, and would not attempt
+if I were able.&nbsp; Several times I was on the point of starting up
+and rushing anywhere; but I restrained myself, for I knew I could not
+escape from myself, so why should I not remain in the dingle?&nbsp;
+So I thought and said to myself, for my reasoning powers were still
+uninjured.&nbsp; At last it appeared to me that the horror was not so
+strong, not quite so strong, upon me.&nbsp; Was it possible that it
+was relaxing its grasp, releasing its prey?&nbsp; Oh what a mercy! but
+it could not be; and yet - I looked up to heaven, and clasped my hands,
+and said, &lsquo;Our Father.&rsquo;&nbsp; I said no more - I was too
+agitated; and now I was almost sure that the horror had done its worst.<br>
+<br>
+After a little time I arose, and staggered down yet farther into the
+dingle.&nbsp; I again found my little horse on the same spot as before.&nbsp;
+I put my hand to his mouth - he licked my hand.&nbsp; I flung myself
+down by him, and put my arms round his neck; the creature whinnied,
+and appeared to sympathise with me.&nbsp; What a comfort to have any
+one, even a dumb brute, to sympathise with me at such a moment!&nbsp;
+I clung to my little horse, as if for safety and protection.&nbsp; I
+laid my head on his neck, and felt almost calm.&nbsp; Presently the
+fear returned, but not so wild as before; it subsided, came again, again
+subsided; then drowsiness came over me, and at last I fell asleep, my
+head supported on the neck of the little horse.&nbsp; I awoke; it was
+dark, dark night - not a star was to be seen - but I felt no fear, the
+horror had left me.&nbsp; I arose from the side of the little horse,
+and went into my tent, lay down, and again went to sleep.<br>
+<br>
+I awoke in the morning weak and sore, and shuddering at the remembrance
+of what I had gone through on the preceding day; the sun was shining
+brightly, but it had not yet risen high enough to show its head above
+the trees which fenced the eastern side of the dingle, on which account
+the dingle was wet and dank from the dews of the night.&nbsp; I kindled
+my fire, and, after sitting by it for some time to warm my frame, I
+took some of the coarse food which I have already mentioned; notwithstanding
+my late struggle, and the coarseness of the fare, I ate with appetite.&nbsp;
+My provisions had by this time been very much diminished, and I saw
+that it would be speedily necessary, in the event of my continuing to
+reside in the dingle, to lay in a fresh store.&nbsp; After my meal,
+I went to the pit and filled a can with water, which I brought to the
+dingle, and then again sat down on my stone.&nbsp; I considered what
+I should next do: it was necessary to do something, or my life in this
+solitude would be insupportable.&nbsp; What should I do? rouse up my
+forge and fashion a horse-shoe?&nbsp; But I wanted nerve and heart for
+such an employment; moreover, I had no motive for fatiguing myself in
+this manner; my own horse was shod, no other was at hand, and it is
+hard to work for the sake of working.&nbsp; What should I do? read?&nbsp;
+Yes, but I had no other book than the Bible which the Welsh Methodist
+had given me.&nbsp; Well, why not read the Bible? I was once fond of
+reading the Bible; ay, but those days were long gone by.&nbsp; However,
+I did not see what else I could well do on the present occasion - so
+I determined to read the Bible - it was in Welsh; at any rate it might
+amuse me.&nbsp; So I took the Bible out of the sack, in which it was
+lying in the cart, and began to read at the place where I chanced to
+open it.&nbsp; I opened it at that part where the history of Saul commences.&nbsp;
+At first I read with indifference, but after some time my attention
+was riveted, and no wonder, I had come to the visitations of Saul -
+those dark moments of his, when he did and said such unaccountable things;
+it almost appeared to me that I was reading of myself; I, too, had my
+visitations, dark as ever his were.&nbsp; Oh, how I sympathised with
+Saul, the tall dark man!&nbsp; I had read his life before, but it had
+made no impression on me; it had never occurred to me that I was like
+him; but I now sympathised with Saul, for my own dark hour was but recently
+passed, and, perhaps, would soon return again; the dark hour came frequently
+on Saul.<br>
+<br>
+Time wore away; I finished the book of Saul, and, closing the volume,
+returned it to its place.&nbsp; I then returned to my seat on the stone,
+and thought of what I had read, and what I had lately undergone.&nbsp;
+All at once I thought I felt well-known sensations, a cramping of the
+breast, and a tingling of the soles of the feet; they were what I had
+felt on the preceding day - they were the forerunners of the fear.&nbsp;
+I sat motionless on my stone, the sensations passed away, and the fear
+came not.&nbsp; Darkness was now coming again over the earth; the dingle
+was again in deep shade; I roused the fire with the breath of the bellows,
+and sat looking at the cheerful glow; it was cheering and comforting.&nbsp;
+My little horse came now and lay down on the ground beside the forge;
+I was not quite deserted.&nbsp; I again ate some of the coarse food,
+and drank plentifully of the water which I had fetched in the morning.&nbsp;
+I then put fresh fuel on the fire, and sat for a long time looking on
+the blaze; I then went into my tent.<br>
+<br>
+I awoke, on my own calculation, about midnight - it was pitch dark,
+and there was much fear upon me.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXXV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Free and independent - I don&rsquo;t see why - Oats - A noise - Unwelcome
+visitors - What&rsquo;s the matter? - Good-day to ye - The tall girl
+- Dovrefeld - Blow on the face - Civil enough - What&rsquo;s this? -
+Vulgar woman - Hands off - Gasping for breath - Long Melford - A pretty
+manoeuvre - A long draught - Signs of animation - It won&rsquo;t do
+- No malice - Bad people.<br>
+<br>
+Two mornings after the period to which I have brought the reader in
+the preceding chapter, I sat by my fire at the bottom of the dingle;
+I had just breakfasted, and had finished the last morsel of food which
+I had brought with me to that solitude.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What shall I now do?&rsquo; said I to myself; &lsquo;shall I
+continue here, or decamp? - this is a sad lonely spot - perhaps I had
+better quit it; but whither shall I go? the wide world is before me,
+but what can I do therein?&nbsp; I have been in the world already without
+much success.&nbsp; No, I had better remain here; the place is lonely,
+it is true, but here I am free and independent, and can do what I please;
+but I can&rsquo;t remain here without food.&nbsp; Well, I will find
+my way to the nearest town, lay in a fresh supply of provision, and
+come back, turning my back upon the world, which has turned its back
+upon me.&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t see why I should not write a little sometimes;
+I have pens and an ink-horn, and for a writing-desk I can place the
+Bible on my knee.&nbsp; I shouldn&rsquo;t wonder if I could write a
+capital satire on the world on the back of that Bible; but, first of
+all, I must think of supplying myself with food.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I rose up from the stone on which I was seated, determining to go to
+the nearest town, with my little horse and cart, and procure what I
+wanted.&nbsp; The nearest town, according to my best calculation, lay
+about five miles distant; I had no doubt, however, that, by using ordinary
+diligence, I should be back before evening.&nbsp; In order to go lighter,
+I determined to leave my tent standing as it was, and all the things
+which I had purchased of the tinker, just as they were.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+need not be apprehensive on their account,&rsquo; said I to myself;
+&lsquo;nobody will come here to meddle with them - the great recommendation
+of this place is its perfect solitude - I daresay that I could live
+here six months without seeing a single human visage.&nbsp; I will now
+harness my little gry and be off to the town.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+At a whistle which I gave, the little gry, which was feeding on the
+bank near the uppermost part of the dingle, came running to me, for
+by this time he had become so accustomed to me that he would obey my
+call, for all the world as if he had been one of the canine species.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Now,&rsquo; said I to him, &lsquo;we are going to the town to
+buy bread for myself and oats for you - I am in a hurry to be back;
+therefore I pray you to do your best, and to draw me and the cart to
+the town with all possible speed, and to bring us back; if you do your
+best, I promise you oats on your return.&nbsp; You know the meaning
+of oats, Ambrol?&rsquo;&nbsp; Ambrol whinnied as if to let me know that
+he understood me perfectly well, as indeed he well might, as I had never
+once fed him during the time that he had been in my possession without
+saying the word in question to him.&nbsp; Now, Ambrol, in the gypsy
+tongue, signifieth a pear.<br>
+<br>
+So I caparisoned Ambrol, and then, going to the cart, I removed two
+or three things from it into the tent; I then lifted up the shafts,
+and was just going to call to the pony to come and be fastened to them,
+when I thought I heard a noise.<br>
+<br>
+I stood stock still, supporting the shaft of the little cart in my hand,
+and bending the right side of my face slightly towards the ground, but
+I could hear nothing; the noise which I thought I had heard was not
+one of those sounds which I was accustomed to hear in that solitude
+- the note of a bird, or the rustling of a bough; it was - there I heard
+it again, a sound very much resembling the grating of a wheel amongst
+gravel.&nbsp; Could it proceed from the road?&nbsp; Oh no, the road
+was too far distant for me to hear the noise of anything moving along
+it. Again I listened, and now I distinctly heard the sound of wheels,
+which seemed to be approaching the dingle; nearer and nearer they drew,
+and presently the sound of wheels was blended with the murmur of voices.&nbsp;
+Anon I heard a boisterous shout, which seemed to proceed from the entrance
+of the dingle.&nbsp; &lsquo;Here are folks at hand,&rsquo; said I, letting
+the shaft of the cart fall to the ground; &lsquo;is it possible that
+they can be coming here?&rsquo;&nbsp; My doubts on that point, if I
+entertained any, were soon dispelled; the wheels, which had ceased moving
+for a moment or two, were once again in motion, and were now evidently
+moving down the winding path which led to my retreat.&nbsp; Leaving
+my cart, I came forward and placed myself near the entrance of the open
+space, with my eyes fixed on the path down which my unexpected, and
+I may say unwelcome, visitors were coming.&nbsp; Presently I heard a
+stamping or sliding, as if of a horse in some difficulty; then a loud
+curse, and the next moment appeared a man and a horse and cart; the
+former holding the head of the horse up to prevent him from falling,
+of which he was in danger, owing to the precipitous nature of the path.&nbsp;
+Whilst thus occupied, the head of the man was averted from me.&nbsp;
+When, however, he had reached the bottom of the descent, he turned his
+head, and perceiving me, as I stood bareheaded, without either coat
+or waistcoat, about two yards from him, he gave a sudden start, so violent
+that the backward motion of his hand had nearly flung the horse upon
+his haunches.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why don&rsquo;t you move forward?&rsquo; said a voice from behind,
+apparently that of a female; &lsquo;you are stopping up the way, and
+we shall be all down upon one another&rsquo;; and I saw the head of
+another horse overtopping the back of the cart.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why don&rsquo;t you move forward, Jack?&rsquo; said another voice,
+also a female, yet higher up the path.<br>
+<br>
+The man stirred not, but remained staring at me in the posture which
+he had assumed on first perceiving me, his body very much drawn back,
+his left foot far in advance of his right, and with his right hand still
+grasping the halter of the horse, which gave way more and more, till
+it was clean down on its haunches.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rsquo; said the voice which I had last
+heard.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Get back with you, Belle, Moll,&rsquo; said the man, still staring
+at me; &lsquo;here&rsquo;s something not over canny or comfortable.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is it?&rsquo; said the same voice; &lsquo;let me pass, Moll,
+and I&rsquo;ll soon clear the way&rsquo;; and I heard a kind of rushing
+down the path.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You need not be afraid,&rsquo; said I, addressing myself to the
+man, &lsquo;I mean you no harm; I am a wanderer like yourself - come
+here to seek for shelter - you need not be afraid; I am a Roman chabo
+by matriculation - one of the right sort, and no mistake - Good-day
+to ye, brother; I bid ye welcome.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man eyed me suspiciously for a moment - then, turning to his horse
+with a loud curse, he pulled him up from his haunches, and led him and
+the cart farther down to one side of the dingle, muttering, as he passed
+me, &lsquo;Afraid!&nbsp; Hm!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+I do not remember ever to have seen a more ruffianly-looking fellow;
+he was about six feet high, with an immensely athletic frame; his face
+was black and bluff, and sported an immense pair of whiskers, but with
+here and there a gray hair, for his age could not be much under fifty.&nbsp;
+He wore a faded blue frock-coat, corduroys, and highlows; on his black
+head was a kind of red nightcap, round his bull neck a Barcelona handkerchief
+- I did not like the look of the man at all.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Afraid!&rsquo; growled the fellow, proceeding to unharness his
+horse; &lsquo;that was the word, I think.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But other figures were now already upon the scene.&nbsp; Dashing past
+the other horse and cart, which by this time had reached the bottom
+of the pass, appeared an exceedingly tall woman, or rather girl, for
+she could scarcely have been above eighteen; she was dressed in a tight
+bodice and a blue stuff gown; hat, bonnet, or cap she had none, and
+her hair, which was flaxen, hung down on her shoulders unconfined; her
+complexion was fair, and her features handsome, with a determined but
+open expression - she was followed by another female, about forty, stout
+and vulgar-looking, at whom I scarcely glanced, my whole attention being
+absorbed by the tall girl.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s the matter, Jack?&rsquo; said the latter, looking
+at the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Only afraid, that&rsquo;s all,&rsquo; said the man, still proceeding
+with his work.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Afraid at what - at that lad? why, he looks like a ghost - I
+would engage to thrash him with one hand.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You might beat me with no hands at all,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;fair
+damsel, only by looking at me - I never saw such a face and figure,
+both regal - why, you look like Ingeborg, Queen of Norway; she had twelve
+brothers, you know, and could lick them all, though they were heroes:-<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+On Dovrefeld in Norway<br>
+Were once together seen<br>
+The twelve heroic brothers<br>
+Of Ingeborg the queen.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;None of your chaffing, young fellow,&rsquo; said the tall girl,
+&lsquo;or I will give you what shall make you wipe your face; be civil,
+or you will rue it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, perhaps I was a peg too high,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I ask
+your pardon - here&rsquo;s something a bit lower:-<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+As I was jawing to the gav yeck divvus<br>
+I met on the drom miro Rommany chi - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+None of your Rommany chies, young fellow,&rsquo; said the tall girl,
+looking more menacingly than before, and clenching her fist; &lsquo;you
+had better be civil, I am none of your chies; and though I keep company
+with gypsies, or, to speak more proper, half-and-halfs, I would have
+you to know that I come of Christian blood and parents, and was born
+in the great house of Long Melford.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have no doubt,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that it was a great house;
+judging from your size I shouldn&rsquo;t wonder if you were born in
+a church.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Stay, Belle,&rsquo; said the man, putting himself before the
+young virago, who was about to rush upon me, &lsquo;my turn is first&rsquo;
+- then, advancing to me in a menacing attitude, he said, with a look
+of deep malignity, &lsquo;&ldquo;Afraid,&rdquo; was the word, wasn&rsquo;t
+it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It was,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but I think I wronged you; I should
+have said, aghast; you exhibited every symptom of one labouring under
+uncontrollable fear.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The fellow stared at me with a look of stupid ferocity, and appeared
+to be hesitating whether to strike or not: ere he could make up his
+mind, the tall girl started forward, crying, &lsquo;He&rsquo;s chaffing;
+let me at him&rsquo;; and before I could put myself on my guard, she
+struck me a blow on the face which had nearly brought me to the ground.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Enough,&rsquo; said I, putting my hand to my cheek; &lsquo;you
+have now performed your promise, and made me wipe my face: now be pacified,
+and tell me fairly the grounds of this quarrel.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Grounds!&rsquo; said the fellow; &lsquo;didn&rsquo;t you say
+I was afraid; and if you hadn&rsquo;t, who gave you leave to camp on
+my ground?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it your ground?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A pretty question,&rsquo; said the fellow; &lsquo;as if all the
+world didn&rsquo;t know that.&nbsp; Do you know who I am?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I guess I do,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;unless I am much mistaken,
+you are he whom folks call the &ldquo;Flaming Tinman.&rdquo;&nbsp; To
+tell you the truth, I&rsquo;m glad we have met, for I wished to see
+you.&nbsp; These are your two wives, I suppose; I greet them.&nbsp;
+There&rsquo;s no harm done - there&rsquo;s room enough here for all
+of us - we shall soon be good friends, I daresay; and when we are a
+little better acquainted, I&rsquo;ll tell you my history.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, if that doesn&rsquo;t beat all!&rsquo; said the fellow.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think he&rsquo;s chaffing now,&rsquo; said the
+girl, whose anger seemed to have subsided on a sudden; &lsquo;the young
+man speaks civil enough.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Civil!&rsquo; said the fellow, with an oath; &lsquo;but that&rsquo;s
+just like you; with you it is a blow, and all over.&nbsp; Civil!&nbsp;
+I suppose you would have him stay here, and get into all my secrets,
+and hear all I may have to say to my two morts.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Two morts!&rsquo; said the girl, kindling up, &lsquo;where are
+they?&nbsp; Speak for one, and no more.&nbsp; I am no mort of yours,
+whatever some one else may be.&nbsp; I tell you one thing, Black John,
+or Anselo, - for t&rsquo;other ain&rsquo;t your name, - the same thing
+I told the young man here, be civil, or you will rue it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The fellow looked at the girl furiously, but his glance soon quailed
+before hers; he withdrew his eyes, and cast them on my little horse,
+which was feeding amongst the trees.&nbsp; &lsquo;What&rsquo;s this?&rsquo;
+said he, rushing forward and seizing the animal.&nbsp; &lsquo;Why, as
+I am alive, this is the horse of that mumping villain Slingsby.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It&rsquo;s his no longer; I bought it and paid for it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It&rsquo;s mine now,&rsquo; said the fellow; &lsquo;I swore I
+would seize it the next time I found it on my beat; ay, and beat the
+master too.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am not Slingsby.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;All&rsquo;s one for that.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You don&rsquo;t say you will beat me?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Afraid was the word.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;m sick and feeble.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hold up your fists.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Won&rsquo;t the horse satisfy you?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Horse nor bellows either.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No mercy, then?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Here&rsquo;s at you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Mind your eyes, Jack.&nbsp; There, you&rsquo;ve got it.&nbsp;
+I thought so,&rsquo; shouted the girl, as the fellow staggered back
+from a sharp blow in the eye; &lsquo;I thought he was chaffing at you
+all along.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never mind, Anselo.&nbsp; You know what to do - go in,&rsquo;
+said the vulgar woman, who had hitherto not spoken a word, but who now
+came forward with all the look of a fury; &lsquo;go inapopli; you&rsquo;ll
+smash ten like he.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Flaming Tinman took her advice, and came in bent on smashing, but
+stopped short on receiving a left-handed blow on the nose.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You&rsquo;ll never beat the Flaming Tinman in that way,&rsquo;
+said the girl, looking at me doubtfully.<br>
+<br>
+And so I began to think myself, when, in the twinkling of an eye, the
+Flaming Tinman, disengaging himself of his frock-coat, and dashing off
+his red night-cap, came rushing in more desperately than ever.&nbsp;
+To a flush hit which he received in the mouth he paid as little attention
+as a wild bull would have done; in a moment his arms were around me,
+and in another he had hurled me down, falling heavily upon me.&nbsp;
+The fellow&rsquo;s strength appeared to be tremendous.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pay him off now,&rsquo; said the vulgar woman.&nbsp; The Flaming
+Tinman made no reply, but, planting his knee on my breast, seized my
+throat with two huge horny hands.&nbsp; I gave myself up for dead, and
+probably should have been so in another minute but for the tall girl,
+who caught hold of the handkerchief which the fellow wore round his
+neck, with a grasp nearly as powerful us that with which he pressed
+my throat.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you call that fair play?&rsquo; said she.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hands off, Belle,&rsquo; said the other woman; &lsquo;do you
+call it fair play to interfere? hands off, or I&rsquo;ll be down upon
+you myself.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+But Belle paid no heed to the injunction, and tugged so hard at the
+handkerchief that the Flaming Tinman was nearly throttled; suddenly
+relinquishing his hold of me, he started on his feet, and aimed a blow
+at my fair preserver, who avoided it, but said coolly:-<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Finish t&rsquo;other business first, and then I&rsquo;m your
+woman whenever you like; but finish it fairly - no foul play when I&rsquo;m
+by - I&rsquo;ll be the boy&rsquo;s second, and Moll can pick up you
+when he happens to knock you down.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The battle during the next ten minutes raged with considerable fury,
+but it so happened that during this time I was never able to knock the
+Flaming Tinman down, but on the contrary received six knock-down blows
+myself.&nbsp; &lsquo;I can never stand this,&rsquo; said I, as I sat
+on the knee of Belle, &lsquo;I am afraid I must give in; the Flaming
+Tinman hits very hard,&rsquo; and I spat out a mouthful of blood.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Sure enough you&rsquo;ll never beat the Flaming Tinman in the
+way you fight - it&rsquo;s of no use flipping at the Flaming Tinman
+with your left hand; why don&rsquo;t you use your right?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because I&rsquo;m not handy with it,&rsquo; said I; and then
+getting up, I once more confronted the Flaming Tinman, and struck him
+six blows for his one, but they were all left-handed blows, and the
+blow which the Flaming Tinman gave me knocked me off my legs.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Now, will you use Long Melford?&rsquo; said Belle, picking me
+up.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know what you mean by Long Melford,&rsquo; said
+I, gasping for breath.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, this long right of yours,&rsquo; said Belle, feeling my
+right arm; &lsquo;if you do, I shouldn&rsquo;t wonder if you yet stand
+a chance.&rsquo;&nbsp; And now the Flaming Tinman was once more ready,
+much more ready than myself.&nbsp; I, however, rose from my second&rsquo;s
+knee as well as my weakness would permit me.&nbsp; On he came, striking
+left and right, appearing almost as fresh as to wind and spirit as when
+he first commenced the combat, though his eyes were considerably swelled,
+and his nether lip was cut in two; on he came, striking left and right,
+and I did not like his blows at all, or even the wind of them, which
+was anything but agreeable, and I gave way before him.&nbsp; At last
+he aimed a blow which, had it taken full effect, would doubtless have
+ended the battle, but owing to his slipping, the fist only grazed my
+left shoulder, and came with terrific force against a tree, close to
+which I had been driven; before the Tinman could recover himself, I
+collected all my strength, and struck him beneath the ear, and then
+fell to the ground completely exhausted; and it so happened that the
+blow which I struck the Tinker beneath the ear was a right-handed blow.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hurrah for Long Melford!&rsquo; I heard Belle exclaim; &lsquo;there
+is nothing like Long Melford for shortness, all the world over.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+At these words I turned round my head as I lay, and perceived the Flaming
+Tinman stretched upon the ground apparently senseless.&nbsp; &lsquo;He
+is dead,&rsquo; said the vulgar woman, as she vainly endeavoured to
+raise him up; &lsquo;he is dead; the best man in all the north country,
+killed in this fashion, by a boy!&rsquo;&nbsp; Alarmed at these words,
+I made shift to get on my feet; and, with the assistance of the woman,
+placed my fallen adversary in a sitting posture.&nbsp; I put my hand
+to his heart, and felt a slight pulsation - &lsquo;He&rsquo;s not dead,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;only stunned; if he were let blood, he would recover
+presently.&rsquo;&nbsp; I produced a penknife which I had in my pocket,
+and, baring the arm of the Tinman, was about to make the necessary incision,
+when the woman gave me a violent blow, and, pushing me aside, exclaimed,
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;ll tear the eyes out of your head if you offer to touch
+him.&nbsp; Do you want to complete your work, and murder him outright,
+now he&rsquo;s asleep? you have had enough of his blood already.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;You are mad,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I only seek to do him service.&nbsp;
+Well, if you won&rsquo;t let him be blooded, fetch some water and fling
+it in his face, you know where the pit is.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A pretty manoeuvre!&rsquo; said the woman; &lsquo;leave my husband
+in the hands of you and that limmer, who has never been true to us -
+I should find him strangled or his throat cut when I came back.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Do you go,&rsquo; said I to the tall girl; &lsquo;take the can
+and fetch some water from the pit.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You had better
+go yourself,&rsquo; said the girl, wiping a tear as she looked on the
+yet senseless form of the Tinker; &lsquo;you had better go yourself,
+if you think water will do him good.&rsquo;&nbsp; I had by this time
+somewhat recovered my exhausted powers, and, taking the can, I bent
+my steps as fast as I could to the pit; arriving there, I lay down on
+the brink, took a long draught, and then plunged my head into the water;
+after which I filled the can, and bent my way back to the dingle.&nbsp;
+Before I could reach the path which led down into its depths, I had
+to pass some way along its side; I had arrived at a part immediately
+over the scene of the last encounter, where the bank, overgrown with
+trees, sloped precipitously down.&nbsp; Here I heard a loud sound of
+voices in the dingle; I stopped, and laying hold of a tree, leaned over
+the bank and listened.&nbsp; The two women appeared to be in hot dispute
+in the dingle.&nbsp; &lsquo;It was all owing to you, you limmer,&rsquo;
+said the vulgar woman to the other; &lsquo;had you not interfered, the
+old man would soon have settled the boy.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;m for fair play and Long Melford,&rsquo; said the other.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;If your old man, as you call him, could have settled the boy
+fairly, he might for all I should have cared, but no foul work for me,
+and as for sticking the boy with our gulleys when he comes back, as
+you proposed, I am not so fond of your old man or you that I should
+oblige you in it, to my soul&rsquo;s destruction.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Hold
+your tongue, or I&rsquo;ll - &rsquo;&nbsp; I listened no farther, but
+hastened as fast as I could to the dingle.&nbsp; My adversary had just
+begun to show signs of animation; the vulgar woman was still supporting
+him, and occasionally cast glances of anger at the tall girl, who was
+walking slowly up and down.&nbsp; I lost no time in dashing the greater
+part of the water into the Tinman&rsquo;s face, whereupon he sneezed,
+moved his hands, and presently looked round him.&nbsp; At first his
+looks were dull and heavy, and without any intelligence at all; he soon,
+however, began to recollect himself, and to be conscious of his situation;
+he cast a scowling glance at me, then one of the deepest malignity at
+the tall girl, who was still walking about without taking much notice
+of what was going forward.&nbsp; At last he looked at his right hand,
+which had evidently suffered from the blow against the tree, and a half-stifled
+curse escaped his lips.&nbsp; The vulgar woman now said something to
+him in a low tone, whereupon he looked at her for a moment, and then
+got upon his legs.&nbsp; Again the vulgar woman said something to him;
+her looks were furious, and she appeared to be urging him on to attempt
+something.&nbsp; I observed that she had a clasped knife in her hand.&nbsp;
+The fellow remained standing for some time as if hesitating what to
+do; at last he looked at his hand, and, shaking his head, said something
+to the woman which I did not understand.&nbsp; The tall girl, however,
+appeared to overhear him, and, probably repeating his words, said, &lsquo;No,
+it won&rsquo;t do; you are right there; and now hear what I have to
+say, - let bygones be bygones, and let us all shake hands, and camp
+here, as the young man was saying just now.&rsquo;&nbsp; The man looked
+at her, and then, without any reply, went to his horse, which was lying
+down among the trees, and kicking it up, led it to the cart, to which
+he forthwith began to harness it.&nbsp; The other cart and horse had
+remained standing motionless during the whole affair which I have been
+recounting, at the bottom of the pass.&nbsp; The woman now took the
+horse by the head, and leading it with the cart into the open part of
+the dingle, turned both round, and then led them back, till the horse
+and cart had mounted a little way up the ascent; she then stood still
+and appeared to be expecting the man.&nbsp; During this proceeding Belle
+had stood looking on without saying anything; at last, perceiving that
+the man had harnessed his horse to the other cart, and that both he
+and the woman were about to take their departure, she said, &lsquo;You
+are not going, are you?&rsquo;&nbsp; Receiving no answer, she continued:
+&lsquo;I tell you what, both of you, Black John, and you Moll, his mort,
+this is not treating me over civilly, - however, I am ready to put up
+with it, and to go with you if you like, for I bear no malice.&nbsp;
+I&rsquo;m sorry for what has happened, but you have only yourselves
+to thank for it.&nbsp; Now, shall I go with you, only tell me?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+The man made no manner of reply, but flogged his horse.&nbsp; The woman,
+however, whose passions were probably under less control, replied, with
+a screeching tone, &lsquo;Stay where you are, you jade, and may the
+curse of Judas cling to you, - stay with the bit of a mullo whom you
+helped, and my only hope is that he may gulley you before he comes to
+be . . . . Have you with us, indeed! after what&rsquo;s past! no, nor
+nothing belonging to you.&nbsp; Fetch down your mailia go-cart and live
+here with your chabo.&rsquo;&nbsp; She then whipped on the horse, and
+ascended the pass, followed by the man.&nbsp; The carts were light,
+and they were not long in ascending the winding path.&nbsp; I followed
+to see that they took their departure.&nbsp; Arriving at the top, I
+found near the entrance a small donkey-cart, which I concluded belonged
+to the girl.&nbsp; The tinker and his mort were already at some distance;
+I stood looking after them for a little time, then taking the donkey
+by the reins I led it with the cart to the bottom of the dingle.&nbsp;
+Arrived there, I found Belle seated on the stone by the fireplace.&nbsp;
+Her hair was all dishevelled, and she was in tears.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They were bad people,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;and I did not like
+them, but they were my only acquaintance in the wide world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXXVI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+At tea - Vapours - Isopel Berners - Softly and kindly - Sweet pretty
+creature - Bread and water - Two sailors - Truth and constancy - Very
+strangely.<br>
+<br>
+In the evening of that same day the tall girl and I sat at tea by the
+fire, at the bottom of the dingle; the girl on a small stool, and myself,
+as usual, upon my stone.<br>
+<br>
+The water which served for the tea had been taken from a spring of pellucid
+water in the neighbourhood, which I had not had the good fortune to
+discover, though it was well known to my companion, and to the wandering
+people who frequented the dingle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;This tea is very good,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but I cannot enjoy
+it as much as if I were well: I feel very sadly.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How else should you feel,&rsquo; said the girl, &lsquo;after
+fighting with the Flaming Tinman?&nbsp; All I wonder at is that you
+can feel at all!&nbsp; As for the tea, it ought to be good, seeing that
+it cost me ten shillings a pound.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s a great deal for a person in your station to pay.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In my station!&nbsp; I&rsquo;d have you to know, young man -
+however, I haven&rsquo;t the heart to quarrel with you, you look so
+ill; and after all, it is a good sum for one to pay who travels the
+roads; but if I must have tea, I like to have the best; and tea I must
+have, for I am used to it, though I can&rsquo;t help thinking that it
+sometimes fills my head with strange fancies - what some folks call
+vapours, making me weep and cry.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dear me,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I should never have thought that
+one of your size and fierceness would weep and cry!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My size and fierceness!&nbsp; I tell you what, young man, you
+are not over civil this evening; but you are ill, as I said before,
+and I shan&rsquo;t take much notice of your language, at least for the
+present; as for my size, I am not so much bigger than yourself; and
+as for being fierce, you should be the last one to fling that at me.&nbsp;
+It is well for you that I can be fierce sometimes.&nbsp; If I hadn&rsquo;t
+taken your part against Blazing Bosville, you wouldn&rsquo;t be now
+taking tea with me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is true that you struck me in the face first; but we&rsquo;ll
+let that pass.&nbsp; So that man&rsquo;s name is Bosville; what&rsquo;s
+your own?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Isopel Berners.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How did you get that name?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I say, young man, you seem fond of asking questions: will you
+have another cup of tea?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was just going to ask for another.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, then, here it is, and much good may it do you; as for my
+name, I got it from my mother.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Your mother&rsquo;s name, then, was Isopel!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Isopel Berners.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But had you never a father?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, I had a father,&rsquo; said the girl, sighing, &lsquo;but
+I don&rsquo;t bear his name.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it the fashion, then, in your country for children to bear
+their mother&rsquo;s name?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If you ask such questions, young man, I shall be angry with you.&nbsp;
+I have told you my name, and, whether my father&rsquo;s or mother&rsquo;s,
+I am not ashamed of it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is a noble name.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There you are right, young man.&nbsp; The chaplain in the great
+house where I was born told me it was a noble name; it was odd enough,
+he said, that the only three noble names in the county were to be found
+in the great house; mine was one; the other two were Devereux and Bohun.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you mean by the great house?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The workhouse.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Is it possible that you were born there?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, young man; and as you now speak softly and kindly, I will
+tell you my whole tale.&nbsp; My father was an officer of the sea, and
+was killed at sea as he was coming home to marry my mother, Isopel Berners.&nbsp;
+He had been acquainted with her, and had left her; but after a few months
+he wrote her a letter, to say that he had no rest, and that he repented,
+and that as soon as his ship came to port he would do her all the reparation
+in his power.&nbsp; Well, young man, the very day before they reached
+port they met the enemy, and there was a fight, and my father was killed,
+after he had struck down six of the enemy&rsquo;s crew on their own
+deck; for my father was a big man, as I have heard, and knew tolerably
+well how to use his hands, And when my mother heard the news, she became
+half distracted, and ran away into the fields and forests, totally neglecting
+her business, for she was a small milliner; and so she ran demented
+about the meads and forests for a long time, now sitting under a tree,
+and now by the side of a river - at last she flung herself into some
+water, and would have been drowned, had not some one been at hand and
+rescued her, whereupon she was conveyed to the great house, lest she
+should attempt to do herself farther mischief, for she had neither friends
+nor parents - and there she died three months after, having first brought
+me into the world.&nbsp; She was a sweet pretty creature, I&rsquo;m
+told, but hardly fit for this world, being neither large, nor fierce,
+nor able to take her own part.&nbsp; So I was born and bred in the great
+house, where I learnt to read and sew, to fear God, and to take my own
+part.&nbsp; When I was fourteen I was put out to service to a small
+farmer and his wife, with whom, however, I did not stay long, for I
+was half-starved, and otherwise ill treated, especially by my mistress,
+who one day attempting to knock me down with a besom, I knocked her
+down with my fist, and went back to the great house.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And how did they receive you in the great house?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not very kindly, young man - on the contrary, I was put into
+a dark room, where I was kept a fortnight on bread and water; I did
+not much care, however, being glad to have got back to the great house
+at any rate - the place where I was born, and where my poor mother died;
+and in the great house I continued two years longer, reading and sewing,
+fearing God, and taking my own part when necessary.&nbsp; At the end
+of the two years I was again put out to service, but this time to a
+rich farmer and his wife, with whom, however, I did not live long, less
+time, I believe, than with the poor ones, being obliged to leave for
+- &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Knocking your mistress down?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, young man, knocking my master down, who conducted himself
+improperly towards me.&nbsp; This time I did not go back to the great
+house, having a misgiving that they would not receive me; so I turned
+my back to the great house where I was born, and where my poor mother
+died, and wandered for several days I know not whither, supporting myself
+on a few halfpence which I chanced to have in my pocket.&nbsp; It happened
+one day, as I sat under a hedge crying, having spent my last farthing,
+that a comfortable-looking elderly woman came up in a cart, and seeing
+the state in which I was, she stopped and asked what was the matter
+with me; I told her some part of my story, whereupon she said, &lsquo;Cheer
+up, my dear; if you like, you shall go with me, and wait upon me.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Of course I wanted little persuasion, so I got into the cart and went
+with her.&nbsp; She took me to London and various other places, and
+I soon found that she was a travelling woman, who went about the country
+with silks and linen.&nbsp; I was of great use to her, more especially
+in those places where we met evil company.&nbsp; Once, as we were coming
+from Dover, we were met by two sailors, who stopped our cart, and would
+have robbed and stripped us.&nbsp; &lsquo;Let me get down,&rsquo; said
+I; so I got down, and fought with them both, till they turned round
+and ran away.&nbsp; Two years I lived with the old gentlewoman, who
+was very kind to me, almost as kind as a mother; at last she fell sick
+at a place in Lincolnshire, and after a few days died, leaving me her
+cart and stock in trade, praying me only to see her decently buried
+- which I did, giving her a funeral fit for a gentlewoman.&nbsp; After
+which I travelled the country - melancholy enough for want of company,
+but so far fortunate, that I could take my own part when anybody was
+uncivil to me.&nbsp; At last, passing through the valley of Todmorden,
+I formed the acquaintance of Blazing Bosville and his wife, with whom
+I occasionally took journeys for company&rsquo;s sake, for it is melancholy
+to travel about alone, even when one can take one&rsquo;s own part.&nbsp;
+I soon found they were evil people; but, upon the whole, they treated
+me civilly, and I sometimes lent them a little money, so that we got
+on tolerably well together.&nbsp; He and I, it is true, had once a dispute,
+and nearly came to blows; for once, when we were alone, he wanted me
+to marry him, promising, if I would, to turn off Grey Moll, or, if I
+liked it better, to make her wait upon me as a maid-servant; I never
+liked him much, but from that hour less than ever.&nbsp; Of the two,
+I believe Grey Moll to be the best, for she is at any rate true and
+faithful to him, and I like truth and constancy - don&rsquo;t you, young
+man?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;they are very nice things.&nbsp; I
+feel very strangely.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How do you feel, young man?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very much afraid.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Afraid, at what?&nbsp; At the Flaming Tinman?&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t
+be afraid of him.&nbsp; He won&rsquo;t come back, and if he did, he
+shouldn&rsquo;t touch you in this state, I&rsquo;d fight him for you;
+but he won&rsquo;t come back, so you needn&rsquo;t be afraid of him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;m not afraid of the Flaming Tinman.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What, then, are you afraid of?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The evil one.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The evil one!&rsquo; said the girl, &lsquo;where is he?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Coming upon me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never heed,&rsquo; said the girl, &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll stand by
+you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXXVII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Hubbub of voices - No offence - Nodding - The guests.<br>
+<br>
+The kitchen of the public-house was a large one, and many people were
+drinking in it; there was a confused hubbub of voices.<br>
+<br>
+I sat down on a bench behind a deal table, of which there were three
+or four in the kitchen; presently a bulky man, in a green coat of the
+Newmarket cut, and without a hat, entered, and observing me, came up,
+and in rather a gruff tone cried, &lsquo;Want anything, young fellow?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bring me a jug of ale,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;if you are the master,
+as I suppose you are, by that same coat of yours, and your having no
+hat on your head.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t be saucy, young fellow,&rsquo; said the landlord,
+for such he was; &lsquo;don&rsquo;t be saucy, or - &rsquo;&nbsp; Whatever
+he intended to say he left unsaid, for fixing his eyes upon one of my
+hands, which I had placed by chance upon the table, he became suddenly
+still.<br>
+<br>
+This was my left hand, which was raw and swollen, from the blows dealt
+on a certain hard skull in a recent combat.&nbsp; &lsquo;What do you
+mean by staring at my hand so?&rsquo; said I, withdrawing it from the
+table.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No offence, young man, no offence,&rsquo; said the landlord,
+in a quite altered tone; &lsquo;but the sight of your hand - &rsquo;
+then observing that our conversation began to attract the notice of
+the guests in the kitchen, he interrupted himself, saying in an undertone,
+&lsquo;But mum&rsquo;s the word for the present, I will go and fetch
+the ale.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+In about a minute he returned, with a jug of ale foaming high.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Here&rsquo;s your health,&rsquo; said he, blowing off the foam,
+and drinking; but perceiving that I looked rather dissatisfied, he murmured,
+&lsquo;All&rsquo;s right, I glory in you; but mum&rsquo;s the word.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Then, placing the jug on the table, he gave me a confidential nod, and
+swaggered out of the room.<br>
+<br>
+What can the silly impertinent fellow mean? thought I; but the ale was
+now before me, and I hastened to drink, for my weakness was great, and
+my mind was full of dark thoughts, the remains of the indescribable
+horror of the preceding night.&nbsp; It may kill me, thought I, as I
+drank deep - but who cares? anything is better than what I have suffered.&nbsp;
+I drank deep, and then leaned back against the wall: it appeared as
+if a vapour was stealing up into my brain, gentle and benign, soothing
+and stifling the horror and the fear; higher and higher it mounted,
+and I felt nearly overcome; but the sensation was delicious, compared
+with that I had lately experienced, and now I felt myself nodding; and,
+bending down, I laid my head on the table on my folded hands.<br>
+<br>
+And in that attitude I remained some time, perfectly unconscious.&nbsp;
+At length, by degrees, perception returned, and I lifted up my head.&nbsp;
+I felt somewhat dizzy and bewildered, but the dark shadow had withdrawn
+itself from me.&nbsp; And now once more I drank of the jug; this second
+draught did not produce an overpowering effect upon me - it revived
+and strengthened me - I felt a new man.<br>
+<br>
+I looked around me; the kitchen had been deserted by the greater part
+of the guests; besides myself, only four remained; these were seated
+at the farther end.&nbsp; One was haranguing fiercely and eagerly; he
+was abusing England, and praising America.&nbsp; At last he exclaimed,
+&lsquo;So when I gets to New York, I will toss up my hat, and damn the
+King.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+That man must be a Radical, thought I.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXXVIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+A Radical - Simple-looking man - Church of England - The President -
+Aristocracy - Gin and water - Mending the roads - Persecuting Church
+- Simon de Montfort - Broken bells - Get up - Not for the Pope - Quay
+of New York - Mumpers&rsquo; Dingle - No wish to fight - First draught
+- A poor pipe - Half-a-crown broke.<br>
+<br>
+The individual whom I supposed to be a Radical, after a short pause,
+again uplifted his voice; he was rather a strong-built fellow of about
+thirty, with an ill-favoured countenance, a white hat on his head, a
+snuff-coloured coat on his back, and when he was not speaking, a pipe
+in his mouth.&nbsp; &lsquo;Who would live in such a country as England?&rsquo;
+he shouted.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There is no country like America,&rsquo; said his nearest neighbour,
+a man also in a white hat, and of a very ill-favoured countenance -
+&lsquo;there is no country like America,&rsquo; said he, withdrawing
+a pipe from his mouth; &lsquo;I think I shall - &rsquo; and here he
+took a draught from a jug, the contents of which he appeared to have
+in common with the other, - &lsquo;go to America one of these days myself.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Poor old England is not such a bad country, after all,&rsquo;
+said a third, a simple-looking man in a labouring dress, who sat smoking
+a pipe without anything before him.&nbsp; &lsquo;If there was but a
+little more work to be got, I should have nothing to say against her;
+I hope, however - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You hope! who cares what you hope?&rsquo; interrupted the first,
+in a savage tone; &lsquo;you are one of those sneaking hounds who are
+satisfied with dogs&rsquo; wages - a bit of bread and a kick.&nbsp;
+Work, indeed! who, with the spirit of a man, would work for a country
+where there is neither liberty of speech nor of action? a land full
+of beggarly aristocracy, hungry borough-mongers, insolent parsons, and
+&ldquo;their . . . wives and daughters,&rdquo; as William Cobbett says,
+in his &ldquo;Register.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah, the Church of England has been a source of incalculable mischief
+to these realms,&rsquo; said another.<br>
+<br>
+The person who uttered these words sat rather aloof from the rest; he
+was dressed in a long black surtout.&nbsp; I could not see much of his
+face, partly owing to his keeping it very much directed to the ground,
+and partly owing to a large slouched hat which he wore; I observed,
+however, that his hair was of a reddish tinge.&nbsp; On the table near
+him was a glass and spoon.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are quite right,&rsquo; said the first, alluding to what
+this last had said, &lsquo;the Church of England has done incalculable
+mischief here.&nbsp; I value no religion three halfpence, for I believe
+in none; but the one that I hate most is the Church of England; so when
+I get to New York, after I have shown the fine fellows on the quay a
+spice of me, by . . . the King, I&rsquo;ll toss up my hat again, and
+. . . the Church of England too.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And suppose the people of New York should clap you in the stocks?&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+These words drew upon me the attention of the whole four.&nbsp; The
+Radical and his companion stared at me ferociously; the man in black
+gave me a peculiar glance from under his slouched hat; the simple-looking
+man in the labouring dress laughed.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What are you laughing at, you fool?&rsquo; said the Radical,
+turning and looking at the other, who appeared to be afraid of him;
+&lsquo;hold your noise; and a pretty fellow, you,&rsquo; said he, looking
+at me, &lsquo;to come here, and speak against the great American nation.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I speak against the great American nation!&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I
+rather paid them a compliment.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By supposing they would put me in the stocks.&nbsp; Well, I call
+it abusing them, to suppose they would do any such thing - stocks, indeed!
+- there are no stocks in all the land.&nbsp; Put me in the stocks! why,
+the President will come down to the quay, and ask me to dinner, as soon
+as he hears what I have said about the King and Church.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t wonder,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;if you go to
+America you will say of the President and country what now you say of
+the King and Church, and cry out for somebody to send you back to England.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Radical dashed his pipe to pieces against the table.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+tell you what, young fellow, you are a spy of the aristocracy, sent
+here to kick up a disturbance.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Kicking up a disturbance,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;is rather inconsistent
+with the office of spy.&nbsp; If I were a spy, I should hold my head
+down, and say nothing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man in black partially raised his head, and gave me another peculiar
+glance.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, if you aren&rsquo;t sent to spy, you are sent to bully,
+to prevent people speaking, and to run down the great American nation;
+but you shan&rsquo;t bully me.&nbsp; I say, down with the aristocracy,
+the beggarly British aristocracy.&nbsp; Come, what have you to say to
+that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nothing,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nothing!&rsquo; repeated the Radical.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;down with them as soon as you can.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As soon as I can!&nbsp; I wish I could.&nbsp; But I can down
+with a bully of theirs.&nbsp; Come, will you fight for them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You won&rsquo;t?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;though, from what I have seen of them,
+I should say they are tolerably able to fight for themselves.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You won&rsquo;t fight for them,&rsquo; said the Radical triumphantly;
+&lsquo;I thought so; all bullies, especially those of the aristocracy,
+are cowards.&nbsp; Here, landlord,&rsquo; said he, raising his voice,
+and striking against the table with the jug, &lsquo;some more ale -
+he won&rsquo;t fight for his friends.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A white feather,&rsquo; said his companion.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He! he!&rsquo; tittered the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Landlord, landlord,&rsquo; shouted the Radical, striking the
+table with the jug louder than before.&nbsp; &lsquo;Who called?&rsquo;
+said the landlord, coming in at last.&nbsp; &lsquo;Fill this jug again,&rsquo;
+said the other, &lsquo;and be quick about it.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Does
+any one else want anything?&rsquo; said the landlord.&nbsp; &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo;
+said the man in black; &lsquo;you may bring me another glass of gin
+and water.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Cold?&rsquo; said the landlord.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;with a lump of sugar
+in it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Gin and water cold, with a lump of sugar in it,&rsquo; said I,
+and struck the table with my fist.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Take some?&rsquo; said the landlord, inquiringly.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;only something came into my head.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He&rsquo;s mad,&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not he,&rsquo; said the Radical.&nbsp; &lsquo;He&rsquo;s only
+shamming; he knows his master is here, and therefore has recourse to
+these manoeuvres, but it won&rsquo;t do.&nbsp; Come, landlord, what
+are you staring at?&nbsp; Why don&rsquo;t you obey your orders?&nbsp;
+Keeping your customers waiting in this manner is not the way to increase
+your business.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The landlord looked at the Radical, and then at me.&nbsp; At last, taking
+the jug and glass, he left the apartment, and presently returned with
+each filled with its respective liquor.&nbsp; He placed the jug with
+beer before the Radical, and the glass with the gin and water before
+the man in black, and then, with a wink to me, he sauntered out.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Here is your health, sir,&rsquo; said the man of the snuff-coloured
+coat, addressing himself to the one in black; &lsquo;I honour you for
+what you said about the Church of England.&nbsp; Every one who speaks
+against the Church of England has my warm heart.&nbsp; Down with it,
+I say, and may the stones of it be used for mending the roads, as my
+friend William says in his Register.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man in black, with a courteous nod of his head, drank to the man
+in the snuff-coloured coat.&nbsp; &lsquo;With respect to the steeples,&rsquo;
+said he, &lsquo;I am not altogether of your opinion; they might be turned
+to better account than to serve to mend the roads; they might still
+be used as places of worship, but not for the worship of the Church
+of England.&nbsp; I have no fault to find with the steeples, it is the
+Church itself which I am compelled to arraign; but it will not stand
+long, the respectable part of its ministers are already leaving it.&nbsp;
+It is a bad Church, a persecuting Church.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Whom does it persecute?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+The man in black glanced at me slightly, and then replied slowly, &lsquo;The
+Catholics.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And do those whom you call Catholics never persecute?&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never,&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did you ever read Foxe&rsquo;s <i>Book of Martyrs</i>?&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He! he!&rsquo; tittered the man in black; &lsquo;there is not
+a word of truth in Foxe&rsquo;s <i>Book of Martyrs</i>.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ten times more than in the <i>Flos Sanctorum</i>,&rsquo; said
+I.<br>
+<br>
+The man in black looked at me, but made no answer.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what say you to the Massacre of the Albigenses and the Vaudois,
+&ldquo;whose bones lie scattered on the cold Alp,&rdquo; or the Revocation
+of the Edict of Nantes?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man in black made no answer.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Go to,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;it is because the Church of England
+is not a persecuting church, that those whom you call the respectable
+part are leaving her; it is because they can&rsquo;t do with the poor
+Dissenters what Simon de Montfort did with the Albigenses, and the cruel
+Piedmontese with the Vaudois, that they turn to bloody Rome; the Pope
+will no doubt welcome them, for the Pope, do you see, being very much
+in want, will welcome - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hollo!&rsquo; said the Radical, interfering, &lsquo;what are
+you saying about the Pope?&nbsp; I say, hurrah for the Pope; I value
+no religion three halfpence, as I said before, but if I were to adopt
+any, it should be the Popish as it&rsquo;s called, because I conceives
+the Popish to be the grand enemy of the Church of England, of the beggarly
+aristocracy, and the borough-monger system, so I won&rsquo;t hear the
+Pope abused while I am by.&nbsp; Come, don&rsquo;t look fierce.&nbsp;
+You won&rsquo;t fight, you know, I have proved it; but I will give you
+another chance - I will fight for the Pope, will you fight against him?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh dear me, yes,&rsquo; said I, getting up and stepping forward.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I am a quiet peaceable young man, and, being so, am always ready
+to fight against the Pope - the enemy of all peace and quiet; to refuse
+fighting for the aristocracy is a widely different thing from refusing
+to fight against the Pope; so come on, if you are disposed to fight
+for him.&nbsp; To the Pope broken bells, to Saint James broken shells.&nbsp;
+No Popish vile oppression, but the Protestant succession. Confusion
+to the Groyne, hurrah for the Boyne, for the army at Clonmel, and the
+Protestant young gentlemen who live there as well.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;An Orangeman,&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not a Platitude,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+The man in black gave a slight start.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Amongst that family,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;no doubt, something
+may be done, but amongst the Methodist preachers I should conceive that
+the success would not be great.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man in black sat quite still.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Especially amongst those who have wives,&rsquo; I added.<br>
+<br>
+The man in black stretched his hand towards his gin and water.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;However,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;we shall see what the grand movement
+will bring about, and the results of the lessons in elocution.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man in black lifted the glass up to his mouth, and, in doing so,
+let the spoon fall.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But what has this to do with the main question?&rsquo; said I;
+&lsquo;I am waiting here to fight against the Pope.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come, Hunter,&rsquo; said the companion of the man in the snuff
+coloured coat, &lsquo;get up, and fight for the Pope.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t care for the young fellow,&rsquo; said the man
+in the snuff-coloured coat.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I know you don&rsquo;t,&rsquo; said the other, &lsquo;so get
+up, and serve him out.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I could serve out three like him,&rsquo; said the man in the
+snuff-coloured coat.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So much the better for you,&rsquo; said the other, &lsquo;the
+present work will be all the easier for you, get up, and serve him out
+at once.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man in the snuff-coloured coat did not stir.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who shows the white feather now?&rsquo; said the simple-looking
+man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He! he! he!&rsquo; tittered the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who told you to interfere?&rsquo; said the Radical, turning ferociously
+towards the simple-looking man; &lsquo;say another word and I&rsquo;ll
+- &rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;And you!&rsquo; said he, addressing himself to
+the man in black, &lsquo;a pretty fellow you to turn against me, after
+I had taken your part.&nbsp; I tell you what, you may fight for yourself.&nbsp;
+I&rsquo;ll see you and your Pope in the pit of Eldon before I fight
+for either of you, so make the most of it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you won&rsquo;t fight?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not for the Pope,&rsquo; said the Radical; &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll
+see the Pope - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dear me!&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;not fight for the Pope, whose
+religion you would turn to, if you were inclined for any.&nbsp; I see
+how it is, you are not fond of fighting; but I&rsquo;ll give you another
+chance - you were abusing the Church of England just now: I&rsquo;ll
+fight for it - will you fight against it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come, Hunter,&rsquo; said the other, &lsquo;get up, and fight
+against the Church of England.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have no particular quarrel against the Church of England,&rsquo;
+said the man in the snuff-coloured coat, &lsquo;my quarrel is with the
+aristocracy.&nbsp; If I said anything against the Church, it was merely
+for a bit of corollary, as Master William Cobbett would say; the quarrel
+with the Church belongs to this fellow in black, so let him carry it
+on.&nbsp; However,&rsquo; he continued suddenly, &lsquo;I won&rsquo;t
+slink from the matter either; it shall never be said by the fine fellows
+on the quay of New York that I wouldn&rsquo;t fight against the Church
+of England.&nbsp; So down with the beggarly aristocracy, the Church,
+and the Pope to the bottom of the pit of Eldon, and may the Pope fall
+first, and the others upon him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon, dashing his hat on the table, he placed himself in an attitude
+of offence and rushed forward.&nbsp; He was, as I have said before,
+a powerful fellow, and might have proved a dangerous antagonist, more
+especially to myself, who, after my recent encounter with the Flaming
+Tinman, and my wrestlings with the evil one, was in anything but fighting
+order.&nbsp; Any collision, however, was prevented by the landlord,
+who, suddenly appearing, thrust himself between us.&nbsp; &lsquo;There
+shall be no fighting here,&rsquo; said he; &lsquo;no one shall fight
+in this house, except it be with myself; so if you two have anything
+to say to each other, you had better go into the field behind the house.&nbsp;
+But, you fool,&rsquo; said he, pushing Hunter violently on the breast,
+&lsquo;do you know whom you are going to tackle with? - this is the
+young chap that beat Blazing Bosville, only as late as yesterday, in
+Mumpers&rsquo; Dingle.&nbsp; Grey Moll told me all about it last night,
+when she came for some brandy for her husband, who, she said, had been
+half killed; and she described the young man to me so closely that I
+knew him at once, that is, as soon as I saw how his left hand was bruised,
+for she told me he was a left-hand hitter.&nbsp; Aren&rsquo;t it all
+true, young man?&nbsp; Aren&rsquo;t you he that beat Flaming Bosville,
+in Mumpers&rsquo; Dingle?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I never beat Flaming Bosville,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;he beat himself.&nbsp; Had he not struck his hand against
+a tree, I shouldn&rsquo;t be here at the present moment.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Hear, hear!&rsquo; said the landlord, &lsquo;now that&rsquo;s
+just as it should be; I like a modest man, for, as the parson says,
+nothing sits better upon a young man than modesty.&nbsp; I remember,
+when I was young, fighting with Tom of Hopton, the best man that ever
+pulled off coat in England.&nbsp; I remember, too, that I won the battle;
+for I happened to hit Tom of Hopton in the mark, as he was coming in,
+so that he lost his wind, and falling squelch on the ground, do ye see,
+he lost the battle, though I am free to confess that he was a better
+man than myself; indeed, the best man that ever fought in England; yet
+still, I won the battle, as every customer of mine, and everybody within
+twelve miles round, has heard over and over again.&nbsp; Now, Mr. Hunter,
+I have one thing to say, if you choose to go into the field behind the
+house, and fight the young man, you can.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll back him for
+ten pounds; but no fighting in my kitchen - because why?&nbsp; I keeps
+a decent kind of an establishment.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have no wish to fight the young man,&rsquo; said Hunter; &lsquo;more
+especially as he has nothing to say for the aristocracy.&nbsp; If he
+chose to fight for them, indeed - but he won&rsquo;t, I know; for I
+see he&rsquo;s a decent, respectable young man; and, after all, fighting
+is a blackguard way of settling a dispute; so I have no wish to fight;
+however, there is one thing I&rsquo;ll do,&rsquo; said he, uplifting
+his fist, &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll fight this fellow in black here for half
+a crown, or for nothing, if he pleases; it was he that got up the last
+dispute between me and the young man, with his Pope and his nonsense;
+so I will fight him for anything he pleases, and perhaps the young man
+will be my second; whilst you - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come, Doctor,&rsquo; said the landlord, &lsquo;or whatsoever
+you be, will you go into the field with Hunter?&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll second
+you, only you must back yourself.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll lay five pounds on
+Hunter, if you are inclined to back yourself; and will help you to win
+it as far, do you see, as a second can; because why?&nbsp; I always
+likes to do the fair thing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, I have no wish to fight,&rsquo; said the man in black, hastily;
+&lsquo;fighting is not my trade.&nbsp; If I have given any offence,
+I beg anybody&rsquo;s pardon.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Landlord,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;what have I to pay?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nothing at all,&rsquo; said the landlord; &lsquo;glad to see
+you.&nbsp; This is the first time that you have been at my house, and
+I never charge new customers, at least customers such as you, anything
+for the first draught.&nbsp; You&rsquo;ll come again, I daresay; shall
+always be glad to see you.&nbsp; I won&rsquo;t take it,&rsquo; said
+he, as I put sixpence on the table; &lsquo;I won&rsquo;t take it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, you shall,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but not in payment for
+anything I have had myself: it shall serve to pay for a jug of ale for
+that gentleman,&rsquo; said I, pointing to the simple-looking individual;
+&lsquo;he is smoking a poor pipe.&nbsp; I do not mean to say that a
+pipe is a bad thing; but a pipe without ale, do you see - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bravo!&rsquo; said the landlord, &lsquo;that&rsquo;s just the
+conduct I like.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Bravo!&rsquo; said Hunter.&nbsp; &lsquo;I shall be happy to drink
+with the young man whenever I meet him at New York, where, do you see,
+things are better managed than here.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If I have given offence to anybody,&rsquo; said the man in black,
+&lsquo;I repeat that I ask pardon, - more especially to the young gentleman,
+who was perfectly right to stand up for his religion, just as I - not
+that I am of any particular religion, no more than this honest gentleman
+here,&rsquo; bowing to Hunter; &lsquo;but I happen to know something
+of the Catholics - several excellent friends of mine are Catholics -
+and of a surety the Catholic religion is an ancient religion, and a
+widely-extended religion, though it certainly is not a universal religion,
+but it has of late made considerable progress, even amongst those nations
+who have been particularly opposed to it - amongst the Prussians and
+the Dutch, for example, to say nothing of the English; and then, in
+the East, amongst the Persians, amongst the Armenians.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Armenians,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;oh dear me, the Armenians
+- &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Have you anything to say about those people, sir?&rsquo; said
+the man in black, lifting up his glass to his mouth.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have nothing further to say,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;than that
+the roots of Ararat are occasionally found to be deeper than those of
+Rome.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There&rsquo;s half-a-crown broke,&rsquo; said the landlord, as
+the man in black let fall the glass, which was broken to pieces on the
+floor.&nbsp; &lsquo;You will pay me the damage, friend, before you leave
+this kitchen.&nbsp; I like to see people drink freely in my kitchen,
+but not too freely, and I hate breakages; because why?&nbsp; I keeps
+a decent kind of an establishment.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER LXXXIX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The dingle - Give them ale - Not over complimentary - America - Many
+people - Washington - Promiscuous company - Language of the roads -
+The old women - Numerals - The man in black.<br>
+<br>
+The public-house where the scenes which I have attempted to describe
+in the preceding chapters took place, was at the distance of about two
+miles from the dingle.&nbsp; The sun was sinking in the west by the
+time I returned to the latter spot.&nbsp; I found Belle seated by a
+fire, over which her kettle was suspended.&nbsp; During my absence she
+had prepared herself a kind of tent, consisting of large hoops covered
+over with tarpaulins, quite impenetrable to rain, however violent.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I am glad you are returned,&rsquo; said she, as soon as she perceived
+me; &lsquo;I began to be anxious about you.&nbsp; Did you take my advice?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I went to the public-house and drank
+ale, as you advised me; it cheered, strengthened, and drove away the
+horror from my mind - I am much beholden to you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I knew it would do you good,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;I remembered
+that when the poor women in the great house were afflicted with hysterics,
+and fearful imaginings, the surgeon, who was a good kind man, used to
+say, &ldquo;Ale, give them ale, and let it be strong.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He was no advocate for tea, then?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He had no objection to tea; but he used to say, &ldquo;Everything
+in its season.&rdquo;&nbsp; Shall we take ours now? - I have waited
+for you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have no objection,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I feel rather heated,
+and at present should prefer tea to ale - &ldquo;Everything in its season,&rdquo;
+as the surgeon said.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon Belle prepared tea, and, as we were taking it, she said -
+&lsquo;What did you see and hear at the public-house?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Really,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;you appear to have your full portion
+of curiosity; what matters it to you what I saw and heard at the public-house?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It matters very little to me,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;I merely
+inquired of you, for the sake of a little conversation - you were silent,
+and it is uncomfortable for two people to sit together without opening
+their lips - at least I think so.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One only feels uncomfortable,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;in being
+silent, when one happens to be thinking of the individual with whom
+one is in company.&nbsp; To tell you the truth, I was not thinking of
+my companion, but of certain company with whom I had been at the public-house.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Really, young man,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;you are not over
+complimentary; but who may this wonderful company have been - some young
+- ?&rsquo; and here Belle stopped.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;there was no young person - if person
+you were going to say.&nbsp; There was a big portly landlord, whom I
+daresay you have seen; a noisy savage Radical, who wanted at first to
+fasten upon me a quarrel about America, but who subsequently drew in
+his horns; then there was a strange fellow, a prowling priest, I believe,
+whom I have frequently heard of, who at first seemed disposed to side
+with the Radical against me, and afterwards with me against the Radical.&nbsp;
+There, you know my company, and what took place.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Was there no one else?&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are mighty curious,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;No, none
+else, except a poor simple mechanic, and some common company, who soon
+went away.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Belle looked at me for a moment, and then appeared to be lost in thought
+- &lsquo;America!&rsquo; said she, musingly - &lsquo;America!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What of America?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have heard that it is a mighty country.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I daresay it is,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I have heard my father
+say that the Americans are first-rate marksmen.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I heard nothing about that,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;what I
+heard was, that it is a great and goodly land, where people can walk
+about without jostling, and where the industrious can always find bread;
+I have frequently thought of going thither.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;the Radical in the public-house will
+perhaps be glad of your company thither; he is as great an admirer of
+America as yourself, though I believe on different grounds.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I shall go by myself,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;unless - unless
+that should happen which is not likely - I am not fond of Radicals no
+more than I am of scoffers and mockers.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you mean to say that I am a scoffer and mocker?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t wish to say you are,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;but
+some of your words sound strangely like scoffing and mocking.&nbsp;
+I have now one thing to beg, which is, that if you have anything to
+say against America, you would speak it out boldly.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What should I have to say against America?&nbsp; I never was
+there.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Many people speak against America who never were there.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Many people speak in praise of America who never were there;
+but with respect to myself, I have not spoken for or against America.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If you liked America you would speak in its praise.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By the same rule, if I disliked America I should speak against
+it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I can&rsquo;t speak with you,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;but I
+see you dislike the country.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The country!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, the people - don&rsquo;t you?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why do you dislike them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, I have heard my father say that the American marksmen, led
+on by a chap of the name of Washington, sent the English to the right-about
+in double-quick time.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And that is your reason for disliking the Americans?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that is my reason for disliking them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Will you take another cup of tea?&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+I took another cup; we were again silent.&nbsp; &lsquo;It is rather
+uncomfortable,&rsquo; said I, at last, &lsquo;for people to sit together
+without having anything to say.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Were you thinking of your company?&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What company?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The present company.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The present company! oh, ah - I remember that I said one only
+feels uncomfortable in being silent with a companion, when one happens
+to be thinking of the companion.&nbsp; Well, I had been thinking of
+you the last two or three minutes, and had just come to the conclusion
+that, to prevent us both feeling occasionally uncomfortably towards
+each other, having nothing to say, it would be as well to have a standing
+subject on which to employ our tongues.&nbsp; Belle, I have determined
+to give you lessons in Armenian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is Armenian?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did you ever hear of Ararat?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, that was the place where the ark rested; I have heard the
+chaplain in the great house talk of it; besides, I have read of it in
+the Bible.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, Armenian is the speech of people of that place, and I should
+like to teach it you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To prevent - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay, to prevent our occasionally feeling uncomfortable together.&nbsp;
+Your acquiring it besides might prove of ulterior advantage to us both;
+for example, suppose you and I were in promiscuous company, at Court,
+for example, and you had something to communicate to me which you did
+not wish any one else to be acquainted with, how safely you might communicate
+it to me in Armenian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Would not the language of the roads do as well?&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In some places it would,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but not at Court,
+owing to its resemblance to thieves&rsquo; slang.&nbsp; There is Hebrew,
+again, which I was thinking of teaching you, till the idea of being
+presented at Court made me abandon it, from the probability of our being
+understood, in the event of our speaking it, by at least half a dozen
+people in our vicinity.&nbsp; There is Latin, it is true, or Greek,
+which we might speak aloud at Court with perfect confidence of safety,
+but upon the whole I should prefer teaching you Armenian, not because
+it would be a safer language to hold communication with at Court, but
+because, not being very well grounded in it myself, I am apprehensive
+that its words and forms may escape from my recollection, unless I have
+sometimes occasion to call them forth.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am afraid we shall have to part company before I have learnt
+it,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;in the meantime, if I wish to say anything
+to you in private, somebody being by, shall I speak in the language
+of the roads?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If no roadster is nigh you may,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and I will
+do my best to understand you.&nbsp; Belle, I will now give you a lesson
+in Armenian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I suppose you mean no harm,&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not in the least; I merely propose the thing to prevent our occasionally
+feeling uncomfortable together.&nbsp; Let us begin.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Stop till I have removed the tea things,&rsquo; said Belle; and,
+getting up, she removed them to her own encampment.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am ready,&rsquo; said Belle, returning, and taking her former
+seat, &lsquo;to join with you in anything which will serve to pass away
+the time agreeably, provided there is no harm in it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Belle,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I have determined to commence the
+course of Armenian lessons by teaching you the numerals; but, before
+I do that, it will be as well to tell you that the Armenian language
+is called Haik.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am sure that word will hang upon my memory,&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why hang upon it?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because the old women in the great house used to call so the
+chimney-hook, on which they hung the kettle; in like manner, on the
+hake of my memory I will hang your hake.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Good!&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;you will make an apt scholar; but
+mind that I did not say hake, but haik; the words are, however, very
+much alike; and, as you observe, upon your hake you may hang my haik.&nbsp;
+We will now proceed to the numerals.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What are numerals?&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Numbers.&nbsp; I will say the Haikan numbers up to ten.&nbsp;
+There - have you heard them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, try and repeat them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I only remember number one,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;and that
+because it is me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo; I will repeat them again,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and pay greater
+attention.&nbsp; Now, try again.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Me, jergo, earache.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I neither said jergo nor earache.&nbsp; I said yergou and yerek.&nbsp;
+Belle, I am afraid I shall have some difficulty with you as a scholar.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Belle made no answer.&nbsp; Her eyes were turned in the direction of
+the winding path which led from the bottom of the hollow, where we were
+seated, to the plain above.&nbsp; &lsquo;Gorgio shunella,&rsquo; she
+said at length, in a low voice.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pure Rommany,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;where?&rsquo; I added, in
+a whisper.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Dovey odoi,&rsquo; said Belle, nodding with her head towards
+the path.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will soon see who it is,&rsquo; said I; and starting up, I
+rushed towards the pathway, intending to lay violent hands on any one
+I might find lurking in its windings.&nbsp; Before, however, I had reached
+its commencement, a man, somewhat above the middle height, advanced
+from it into the dingle, in whom I recognised the man in black whom
+I had seen in the public-house.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XC<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Buona sera - Rather apprehensive - The steep bank - Lovely virgin -
+Hospitality - Tory minister - Custom of the country - Sneering smile
+- Wandering Zigan - Gypsies&rsquo; cloaks - Certain faculty - Acute
+answer - Various ways - Addio - Best Hollands.<br>
+<br>
+The man in black and myself stood opposite to each other for a minute
+or two in silence; I will not say that we confronted each other that
+time, for the man in black, after a furtive glance, did not look me
+in the face, but kept his eyes fixed apparently on the leaves of a bunch
+of ground-nuts which were growing at my feet.&nbsp; At length, looking
+around the dingle, he exclaimed, &lsquo;Buona sera, I hope I don&rsquo;t
+intrude.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You have as much right here,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;as I or my
+companion; but you had no right to stand listening to our conversation.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was not listening,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;I was hesitating
+whether to advance or retire; and if I heard some of your conversation,
+the fault was not mine.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not see why you should have hesitated if your intentions
+were good,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I think the kind of place in which I found myself might excuse
+some hesitation,&rsquo; said the man in black, looking around; &lsquo;moreover,
+from what I had seen of your demeanour at the public-house, I was rather
+apprehensive that the reception I might experience at your hands might
+be more rough than agreeable.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what may have been your motive for coming to this place?&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Per far visita a sua signoria, ecco il motivo.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why do you speak to me in that gibberish,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;do
+you think I understand it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is not Armenian,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;but
+it might serve, in a place like this, for the breathing of a little
+secret communication, were any common roadster near at hand.&nbsp; It
+would not do at Court, it is true, being the language of singing women,
+and the like; but we are not at Court - when we are, I can perhaps summon
+up a little indifferent Latin, if I have anything private to communicate
+to the learned Professor.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And at the conclusion of this speech the man in black lifted up his
+head, and, for some moments, looked me in the face.&nbsp; The muscles
+of his own seemed to be slightly convulsed, and his mouth opened in
+a singular manner<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I see,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that for some time you were standing
+near me and my companion, in the mean act of listening.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not at all,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;I heard from
+the steep bank above, that to which I have now alluded, whilst I was
+puzzling myself to find the path which leads to your retreat.&nbsp;
+I made, indeed, nearly the compass of the whole thicket before I found
+it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And how did you know that I was here?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The landlord of the public-house, with whom I had some conversation
+concerning you, informed me that he had no doubt I should find you in
+this place, to which he gave me instructions not very clear.&nbsp; But,
+now I am here, I crave permission to remain a little time, in order
+that I may hold some communion with you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;since you are come, you are welcome;
+please to step this way.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon I conducted the man in black to the fireplace, where Belle
+was standing, who had risen from her stool on my springing up to go
+in quest of the stranger.&nbsp; The man in black looked at her with
+evident curiosity, then making her rather a graceful bow, &lsquo;Lovely
+virgin,&rsquo; said he, stretching out his hand, &lsquo;allow me to
+salute your fingers.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am not in the habit of shaking hands with strangers,&rsquo;
+said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I did not presume to request to shake hands with you,&rsquo;
+said the man in black, &lsquo;I merely wished to be permitted to salute
+with my lips the extremity of your two forefingers.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I never permit anything of the kind,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;
+I do not approve of such unmanly ways, they are only befitting those
+who lurk in corners or behind trees, listening to the conversation of
+people who would fain be private.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you take me for a listener then?&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, indeed I do,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;the young man may
+receive your excuses, and put confidence in them, if he please, but
+for my part I neither admit them nor believe them;&rsquo; and thereupon
+flinging her long hair back, which was hanging over her cheeks, she
+seated herself on her stool.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come, Belle,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I have bidden the gentleman
+welcome, I beseech you, therefore, to make him welcome; he is a stranger,
+where we are at home, therefore, even did we wish him away, we are bound
+to treat him kindly.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s not English doctrine,&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I thought the English prided themselves on their hospitality,&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They do so,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;they are proud
+of showing hospitality to people above them, that is, to those who do
+not want it, but of the hospitality which you were now describing, and
+which is Arabian, they know nothing.&nbsp; No Englishman will tolerate
+another in his house, from whom he does not expect advantage of some
+kind, and to those from whom he does he can be civil enough.&nbsp; An
+Englishman thinks that, because he is in his own house, he has a right
+to be boorish and brutal to any one who is disagreeable to him, as all
+those are who are really in want of assistance.&nbsp; Should a hunted
+fugitive rush into an Englishman&rsquo;s house, beseeching protection,
+and appealing to the master&rsquo;s feelings of hospitality, the Englishman
+would knock him down in the passage.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are too general,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;in your strictures.&nbsp;
+Lord -, the unpopular Tory minister, was once chased through the streets
+of London by a mob, and, being in danger of his life, took shelter in
+the shop of a Whig linen-draper, declaring his own unpopular name, and
+appealing to the linen-draper&rsquo;s feelings of hospitality; whereupon
+the linen-draper, utterly forgetful of all party rancour, nobly responded
+to the appeal, and telling his wife to conduct his lordship upstairs,
+jumped over the counter, with his ell in his hand, and placing himself
+with half-a-dozen of his assistants at the door of his boutique, manfully
+confronted the mob, telling them that he would allow himself to be torn
+to a thousand pieces ere he would permit them to injure a hair of his
+lordship&rsquo;s head: what do you think of that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He! he! he!&rsquo; tittered the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am afraid your own practice is
+not very different from that which you have been just now describing;
+you sided with the Radical in the public-house against me, as long as
+you thought him the most powerful, and then turned against him when
+you saw he was cowed.&nbsp; What have you to say to that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, when one is in Rome, I mean England, one must do as they
+do in England; I was merely conforming to the custom of the country,
+he! he! but I beg your pardon here, as I did in the public-house.&nbsp;
+I made a mistake.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;we will drop the matter, but pray
+seat yourself on that stone, and I will sit down on the grass near you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man in black, after proffering two or three excuses for occupying
+what he supposed to be my seat, sat down upon the stone, and I squatted
+down, gypsy-fashion, just opposite to him, Belle sitting on her stool
+at a slight distance on my right.&nbsp; After a time I addressed him
+thus: &lsquo;Am I to reckon this a mere visit of ceremony? should it
+prove so, it will be, I believe, the first visit of the kind ever paid
+me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Will you permit me to ask,&rsquo; said the man in black - &lsquo;the
+weather is very warm,&rsquo; said he, interrupting himself, and taking
+off his hat.<br>
+<br>
+I now observed that he was partly bald, his red hair having died away
+from the fore part of his crown - his forehead was high, his eyebrows
+scanty, his eyes gray and sly, with a downward tendency, his nose was
+slightly aquiline, his mouth rather large - a kind of sneering smile
+played continually on his lips, his complexion was somewhat rubicund.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A bad countenance,&rsquo; said Belle, in the language of the
+roads, observing that my eyes were fixed on his face.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Does not my countenance please you, fair damsel?&rsquo; said
+the man in black, resuming his hat, and speaking in a peculiarly gentle
+voice.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;do you understand the language of
+the roads?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As little as I do Armenian,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;but
+I understand look and tone.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So do I, perhaps,&rsquo; retorted Belle; &lsquo;and, to tell
+you the truth, I like your tone as little as your face.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;For shame,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;have you forgot what I was saying
+just now about the duties of hospitality?&nbsp; You have not yet answered
+my question,&rsquo; said I, addressing myself to the man, &lsquo;with
+respect to your visit.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Will you permit me to ask who you are?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you see the place where I live?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do,&rsquo; said the man in black, looking around.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you know the name of this place?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was told it was Mumpers&rsquo; or Gypsies&rsquo; Dingle,&rsquo;
+said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Good,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;and this forge and tent, what do
+they look like?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Like the forge and tent of a wandering Zigan; I have seen the
+like in Italy.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Good,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;they belong to me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are you, then, a gypsy?&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What else should I be?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But you seem to have been acquainted with various individuals
+with whom I have likewise had acquaintance; and you have even alluded
+to matters, and even words, which have passed between me and them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you know how gypsies live?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By hammering old iron, I believe, and telling fortunes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;there&rsquo;s my forge, and yonder
+is some iron, though not old, and by your own confession I am a soothsayer.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But how did you come by your knowledge?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;if you want me to reveal the secrets
+of my trade, I have, of course, nothing further to say.&nbsp; Go to
+the scarlet dyer, and ask him how he dyes cloth.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why scarlet?&rsquo; said the man in black.&nbsp; &lsquo;Is it
+because gypsies blush like scarlet?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Gypsies never blush,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but gypsies&rsquo;
+cloaks are scarlet.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I should almost take you for a gypsy,&rsquo; said the man in
+black, &lsquo;but for - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;For what?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But for that same lesson in Armenian, and your general knowledge
+of languages; as for your manners and appearance I will say nothing,&rsquo;
+said the man in black, with a titter.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And why should not a gypsy possess a knowledge of languages?&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because the gypsy race is perfectly illiterate,&rsquo; said the
+man in black; &lsquo;they are possessed, it is true, of a knavish acuteness,
+and are particularly noted for giving subtle and evasive answers - and
+in your answers, I confess, you remind me of them; but that one of the
+race should acquire a learned language like the Armenian, and have a
+general knowledge of literature, is a thing che io non credo afatto.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you take me for?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;I should consider you
+to be a philologist, who, for some purpose, has taken up a gypsy life;
+but I confess to you that your way of answering questions is far too
+acute for a philologist.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And why should not a philologist be able to answer questions
+acutely?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Because the philological race is the most stupid under heaven,&rsquo;
+said the man in black; &lsquo;they are possessed, it is true, of a certain
+faculty for picking up words, and a memory for retaining them; but that
+any one of the sect should be able to give a rational answer, to say
+nothing of an acute one, on any subject - even though the subject were
+philology - is a thing of which I have no idea.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But you found me giving a lesson in Armenian to this handmaid?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I believe I did,&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And you heard me give what you are disposed to call acute answers
+to the questions you asked me?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I believe I did,&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And would any one but a philologist think of giving a lesson
+in Armenian to a handmaid in a dingle?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I should think not,&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, then, don&rsquo;t you see that it is possible for a philologist
+to give not only a rational, but an acute answer?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I really don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with you?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Merely puzzled,&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Puzzled?<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Really puzzled?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Remain so.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the man in black, rising, &lsquo;puzzled or
+not, I will no longer trespass upon your and this young lady&rsquo;s
+retirement; only allow me, before I go, to apologise for my intrusion.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No apology is necessary,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;will you please
+to take anything before you go?&nbsp; I think this young lady, at my
+request, would contrive to make you a cup of tea.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Tea!&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;he! he!&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t
+drink tea; I don&rsquo;t like it - if, indeed, you had,&rsquo; and here
+he stopped.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There&rsquo;s nothing like gin and water, is there?&rsquo; said
+I, &lsquo;but I am sorry to say I have none.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Gin and water,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;how do you
+know that I am fond of gin and water?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Did I not see you drinking some at the public-house?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You did,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;and I remember
+that, when I called for some you repeated my words - permit me to ask,
+is gin and water an unusual drink in England?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is not usually drunk cold, and with a lump of sugar,&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And did you know who I was by my calling for it so?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Gypsies have various ways of obtaining information,&rsquo; said
+I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;With all your knowledge,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;you
+do not appear to have known that I was coming to visit you?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Gypsies do not pretend to know anything which relates to themselves,&rsquo;
+said I; &lsquo;but I advise you, if you ever come again, to come openly.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Have I your permission to come again?&rsquo; said the man in
+black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come when you please; this dingle is as free for you as me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will visit you again,&rsquo; said the man in black - &lsquo;till
+then, addio.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Belle,&rsquo; said I, after the man in black had departed, &lsquo;we
+did not treat that man very hospitably; he left us without having eaten
+or drunk at our expense.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You offered him some tea,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;which, as
+it is mine, I should have grudged him, for I like him not.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Our liking or disliking him had nothing to do with the matter,
+he was our visitor, and ought not to have been permitted to depart dry;
+living as we do in this desert, we ought always to be prepared to administer
+to the wants of our visitors.&nbsp; Belle, do you know where to procure
+any good Hollands?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I think I do,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;but - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I will have no buts.&nbsp; Belle, I expect that with as little
+delay as possible you procure, at my expense, the best Hollands you
+can find.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XCI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Excursions - Adventurous English - Opaque forests - The greatest patience.<br>
+<br>
+Time passed on, and Belle and I lived in the dingle; when I say lived,
+the reader must not imagine that we were always there.&nbsp; She went
+out upon her pursuits, and I went out where inclination led me; but
+my excursions were very short ones, and hers occasionally occupied whole
+days and nights.&nbsp; If I am asked how we passed the time when we
+were together in the dingle, I would answer that we passed the time
+very tolerably, all things considered; we conversed together, and when
+tired of conversing I would sometimes give Belle a lesson in Armenian;
+her progress was not particularly brilliant, but upon the whole satisfactory;
+in about a fortnight she had hung up one hundred Haikan numerals upon
+the hake of her memory.&nbsp; I found her conversation highly entertaining;
+she had seen much of England and Wales, and had been acquainted with
+some of the most remarkable characters who travelled the roads at that
+period; and let me be permitted to say that many remarkable characters
+have travelled the roads of England, of whom fame has never said a word.&nbsp;
+I loved to hear her anecdotes of these people; some of whom I found
+had occasionally attempted to lay violent hands either upon her person
+or effects, and had invariably been humbled by her without the assistance
+of either justice or constable.&nbsp; I could clearly see, however,
+that she was rather tired of England, and wished for a change of scene;
+she was particularly fond of talking of America, to which country her
+aspirations chiefly tended.&nbsp; She had heard much of America, which
+had excited her imagination; for at that time America was much talked
+of, on roads and in homesteads - at least, so said Belle, who had good
+opportunities of knowing - and most people allowed that it was a good
+country for adventurous English.&nbsp; The people who chiefly spoke
+against it, as she informed me, were soldiers disbanded upon pensions,
+the sextons of village churches, and excisemen.&nbsp; Belle had a craving
+desire to visit that country, and to wander with cart and little animal
+amongst its forests; when I would occasionally object that she would
+be exposed to danger from strange and perverse customers, she said that
+she had not wandered the roads of England so long and alone, to be afraid
+of anything which might befall in America; and that she hoped, with
+God&rsquo;s favour, to be able to take her own part, and to give to
+perverse customers as good as they might bring.&nbsp; She had a dauntless
+heart, that same Belle.&nbsp; Such was the staple of Belle&rsquo;s conversation.&nbsp;
+As for mine, I would endeavour to entertain her with strange dreams
+of adventure, in which I figured in opaque forests, strangling wild
+beasts, or discovering and plundering the hoards of dragons; and sometimes
+I would narrate to her other things far more genuine - how I had tamed
+savage mares, wrestled with Satan, and had dealings with ferocious publishers.&nbsp;
+Belle had a kind heart, and would weep at the accounts I gave her of
+my early wrestlings with the dark Monarch.&nbsp; She would sigh, too,
+as I recounted the many slights and degradations I had received at the
+hands of ferocious publishers; but she had the curiosity of a woman;
+and once, when I talked to her of the triumphs which I had achieved
+over unbroken mares, she lifted up her head and questioned me as to
+the secret of the virtue which I possessed over the aforesaid animals;
+whereupon I sternly reprimanded, and forthwith commanded her to repeat
+the Armenian numerals; and, on her demurring, I made use of words, to
+escape which she was glad to comply, saying the Armenian numerals from
+one to a hundred, which numerals, as a punishment for her curiosity,
+I made her repeat three times, loading her with the bitterest reproaches
+whenever she committed the slightest error, either in accent or pronunciation,
+which reproaches she appeared to bear with the greatest patience.&nbsp;
+And now I have given a very fair account of the manner in which Isopel
+Berners and myself passed our time in the dingle.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XCII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The landlord - Rather too old - Without a shilling - Reputation - A
+fortnight ago - Liquids - The main chance - Respectability - Irrational
+beings - Parliament cove - My brewer.<br>
+<br>
+Amongst other excursions, I went several times to the public-house to
+which I introduced the reader in a former chapter.&nbsp; I had experienced
+such beneficial effects from the ale I had drunk on that occasion, that
+I wished to put its virtue to a frequent test; nor did the ale on subsequent
+trials belie the good opinion which I had at first formed of it.&nbsp;
+After each visit which I made to the public-house, I found my frame
+stronger and my mind more cheerful than they had previously been.&nbsp;
+The landlord appeared at all times glad to see me, and insisted that
+I should sit within the bar, where, leaving his other guests to be attended
+to by a niece of his, who officiated as his housekeeper, he would sit
+beside me and talk of matters concerning &lsquo;the ring,&rsquo; indulging
+himself with a cigar and a glass of sherry, which he told me was his
+favourite wine, whilst I drank my ale.&nbsp; &lsquo;I loves the conversation
+of all you coves of the ring,&rsquo; said he once, &lsquo;which is natural,
+seeing as how I have fought in a ring myself.&nbsp; Ah, there is nothing
+like the ring; I wish I was not rather too old to go again into it.&nbsp;
+I often think I should like to have another rally - one more rally,
+and then - but there&rsquo;s a time for all things - youth will be served,
+every dog has his day, and mine has been a fine one - let me be content.&nbsp;
+After beating Tom of Hopton, there was not much more to be done in the
+way of reputation; I have long sat in my bar the wonder and glory of
+this here neighbourhood.&nbsp; I&rsquo;m content, as far as reputation
+goes; I only wish money would come in a little faster; however, the
+next main of cocks will bring me in something handsome - comes off next
+Wednesday, at -; have ventured ten five-pound notes - shouldn&rsquo;t
+say ventured either - run no risk at all, because why?&nbsp; I knows
+my birds.&rsquo;&nbsp; About ten days after this harangue I called again,
+at about three o&rsquo;clock one afternoon.&nbsp; The landlord was seated
+on a bench by a table in the common room, which was entirely empty;
+he was neither smoking nor drinking, but sat with his arms folded, and
+his head hanging down over his breast.&nbsp; At the sound of my step
+he looked up; &lsquo;Ah,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;I am glad you are come,
+I was just thinking about you.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Thank you,&rsquo;
+said I; &lsquo;it was very kind of you, especially at a time like this,
+when your mind must be full of your good fortune.&nbsp; Allow me to
+congratulate you on the sums of money you won by the main of cocks at
+-.&nbsp; I hope you brought it all safe home.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Safe
+home!&rsquo; said the landlord; &lsquo;I brought myself safe home, and
+that was all; came home without a shilling, regularly done, cleaned
+out.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I am sorry for that,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but
+after you had won the money, you ought to have been satisfied, and not
+risked it again - how did you lose it?&nbsp; I hope not by the pea and
+thimble.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Pea and thimble,&rsquo; said the landlord
+- &lsquo;not I; those confounded cocks left me nothing to lose by the
+pea and thimble.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Dear me,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I
+thought that you knew your birds.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Well, so I did,&rsquo;
+said the landlord; &lsquo;I knew the birds to be good birds, and so
+they proved, and would have won if better birds had not been brought
+against them, of which I knew nothing, and so do you see I am done,
+regularly done.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;don&rsquo;t
+be cast down; there is one thing of which the cocks by their misfortune
+cannot deprive you - your reputation; make the most of that, give up
+cock-fighting, and be content with the custom of your house, of which
+you will always have plenty, as long as you are the wonder and glory
+of the neighbourhood.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The landlord struck the table before him violently with his fist.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Confound my reputation!&rsquo; said he.&nbsp; &lsquo;No reputation
+that I have will be satisfaction to my brewer for the seventy pounds
+I owe him.&nbsp; Reputation won&rsquo;t pass for the current coin of
+this here realm; and let me tell you, that if it ain&rsquo;t backed
+by some of it, it ain&rsquo;t a bit better than rotten cabbage, as I
+have found.&nbsp; Only three weeks since I was, as I told you, the wonder
+and glory of the neighbourhood; and people used to come to look at me,
+and worship me; but as soon as it began to be whispered about that I
+owed money to the brewer, they presently left off all that kind of thing;
+and now, during the last three days, since the tale of my misfortune
+with the cocks has got wind, almost everybody has left off coming to
+the house, and the few who does, merely comes to insult and flout me.&nbsp;
+It was only last night that fellow, Hunter, called me an old fool in
+my own kitchen here.&nbsp; He wouldn&rsquo;t have called me a fool a
+fortnight ago; &rsquo;twas I called him fool then, and last night he
+called me old fool; what do you think of that? - the man that beat Tom
+of Hopton, to be called, not only a fool, but an old fool; and I hadn&rsquo;t
+heart, with one blow of this here fist into his face, to send his head
+ringing against the wall; for when a man&rsquo;s pocket is low, do you
+see, his heart ain&rsquo;t much higher; but it is of no use talking,
+something must be done.&nbsp; I was thinking of you just as you came
+in, for you are just the person that can help me.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If you mean,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;to ask me to lend you the
+money which you want, it will be to no purpose, as I have very little
+of my own, just enough for my own occasions; it is true, if you desired
+it, I would be your intercessor with the person to whom you owe the
+money, though I should hardly imagine that anything I could say - &rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;You are right there,&rsquo; said the landlord; &lsquo;much the
+brewer would care for anything you could say on my behalf - your going
+would be the very way to do me up entirely.&nbsp; A pretty opinion he
+would have of the state of my affairs if I were to send him such a &lsquo;cessor
+as you; and as for your lending me money, don&rsquo;t think I was ever
+fool enough to suppose either that you had any, or if you had that you
+would be fool enough to lend me any.&nbsp; No, no, the coves of the
+ring knows better; I have been in the ring myself, and knows what a
+fighting cove is, and though I was fool enough to back those birds,
+I was never quite fool enough to lend anybody money.&nbsp; What I am
+about to propose is something very different from going to my landlord,
+or lending any capital; something which, though it will put money into
+my pocket, will likewise put something handsome into your own.&nbsp;
+I want to get up a fight in this here neighbourhood, which would be
+sure to bring plenty of people to my house, for a week before and after
+it takes place; and as people can&rsquo;t come without drinking, I think
+I could, during one fortnight, get off for the brewer all the sour and
+unsaleable liquids he now has, which people wouldn&rsquo;t drink at
+any other time, and by that means, do you see, liquidate my debt; then,
+by means of betting, making first all right, do you see, I have no doubt
+that I could put something handsome into my pocket and yours, for I
+should wish you to be the fighting man, as I think I can depend upon
+you.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You really must excuse me,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I
+have no wish to figure as a pugilist; besides, there is such a difference
+in our ages; you may be the stronger man of the two, and perhaps the
+hardest hitter, but I am in much better condition, am more active on
+my legs, so that I am almost sure I should have the advantage, for,
+as you very properly observed, &ldquo;Youth will be served.&rdquo;&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Oh, I didn&rsquo;t mean to fight,&rsquo; said the landlord; &lsquo;I
+think I could beat you if I were to train a little; but in the fight
+I propose I looks more to the main chance than anything else.&nbsp;
+I question whether half so many people could be brought together if
+you were to fight with me as the person I have in view, or whether there
+would be half such opportunities for betting, for I am a man, do you
+see; the person I wants you to fight with is not a man, but the young
+woman you keeps company with.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The young woman I keep company with,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;pray
+what do you mean?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We will go into the bar, and have something,&rsquo; said the
+landlord, getting up.&nbsp; &lsquo;My niece is out, and there is no
+one in the house, so we can talk the matter over quietly.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Thereupon I followed him into the bar, where, having drawn me a jug
+of ale, helped himself as usual to a glass of sherry, and lighted a
+cigar, he proceeded to explain himself further.&nbsp; &lsquo;What I
+wants is to get up a fight between a man and a woman; there never has
+yet been such a thing in the ring, and the mere noise of the matter
+would bring thousands of people together, quite enough to drink out,
+for the thing should be close to my house, all the brewer&rsquo;s stock
+of liquids, both good and bad.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;But,&rsquo; said
+I, &lsquo;you were the other day boasting of the respectability of your
+house; do you think that a fight between a man and a woman close to
+your establishment would add to its respectability?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Confound
+the respectability of my house,&rsquo; said the landlord; &lsquo;will
+the respectability of my house pay the brewer, or keep the roof over
+my head?&nbsp; No, no! when respectability won&rsquo;t keep a man, do
+you see, the best thing is to let it go and wander.&nbsp; Only let me
+have my own way, and both the brewer, myself, and every one of us, will
+be satisfied.&nbsp; And then the betting - what a deal we may make by
+the betting - and that we shall have all to ourselves, you, I, and the
+young woman; the brewer will have no hand in that.&nbsp; I can manage
+to raise ten pounds, and if by flashing that about I don&rsquo;t manage
+to make a hundred, call me horse.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;But suppose,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;the party should lose, on whom you sport your money,
+even as the birds did?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;We must first make all right,&rsquo;
+said the landlord, &lsquo;as I told you before; the birds were irrational
+beings, and therefore couldn&rsquo;t come to an understanding with the
+others, as you and the young woman can.&nbsp; The birds fought fair;
+but I intend that you and the young woman should fight cross.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;What do you mean by cross?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;Come,
+come,&rsquo; said the landlord, &lsquo;don&rsquo;t attempt to gammon
+me; you in the ring, and pretend not to know what fighting cross is!&nbsp;
+That won&rsquo;t do, my fine fellow; but as no one is near us, I will
+speak out.&nbsp; I intend that you and the young woman should understand
+one another, and agree beforehand which should be beat; and if you take
+my advice, you will determine between you that the young woman shall
+be beat, as I am sure that the odds will run high upon her, her character
+as a fist-woman being spread far and wide, so that all the flats who
+think it will be all right will back her, as I myself would, if I thought
+it would be a fair thing.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Then,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;you
+would not have us fight fair?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;By no means,&rsquo;
+said the landlord, &lsquo;because why? - I conceives that a cross is
+a certainty to those who are in it, whereas by the fair thing one may
+lose all he has.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;But,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;you
+said the other day that you liked the fair thing.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;That
+was by way of gammon,&rsquo; said the landlord; &lsquo;just, do you
+see, as a Parliament cove might say, speechifying from a barrel to a
+set of flats, whom he means to sell.&nbsp; Come, what do you think of
+the plan?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is a very ingenious one,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ain&rsquo;t it?&rsquo; said the landlord.&nbsp; &lsquo;The folks
+in this neighbourhood are beginning to call me old fool; but if they
+don&rsquo;t call me something else, when they sees me friends with the
+brewer, and money in my pocket, my name is not Catchpole.&nbsp; Come,
+drink your ale, and go home to the young gentlewoman.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am going,&rsquo; said I, rising from my seat, after finishing
+the remainder of the ale.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you think she&rsquo;ll have any objection?&rsquo; said the
+landlord.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To do what?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, to fight cross.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, I do,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But you will do your best to persuade her?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, I will not,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are you fool enough to wish to fight fair?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am wise enough to wish not to fight
+at all.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And how&rsquo;s my brewer to be paid?&rsquo; said the landlord.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I really don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;ll change my religion,&rsquo; said the landlord.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XCIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Another visit - A la Margutte - Clever man - Napoleon&rsquo;s estimate
+- Another statue.<br>
+<br>
+One evening Belle and myself received another visit from the man in
+black.&nbsp; After a little conversation of not much importance, I asked
+him whether he would not take some refreshment, assuring him that I
+was now in possession of some very excellent Hollands, which, with a
+glass, a jug of water, and a lump of sugar, was heartily at his service;
+he accepted my offer, and Belle going with a jug to the spring, from
+which she was in the habit of procuring water for tea, speedily returned
+with it full of the clear, delicious water of which I have already spoken.&nbsp;
+Having placed the jug by the side of the man in black, she brought him
+a glass and spoon, and a tea-cup, the latter containing various lumps
+of snowy-white sugar: in the meantime I had produced a bottle of the
+stronger liquid.&nbsp; The man in black helped himself to some water,
+and likewise to some Hollands, the proportion of water being about two-thirds;
+then adding a lump of sugar, he stirred the whole up, tasted it, and
+said that it was good.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;This is one of the good things of life,&rsquo; he added, after
+a short pause.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What are the others?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There is Malvoisia sack,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;and
+partridge, and beccafico.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what do you say to high mass?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;High mass!&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;however,&rsquo;
+he continued, after a pause, &lsquo;I will be frank with you; I came
+to be so; I may have heard high mass on a time, and said it too; but
+as for any predilection for it, I assure you I have no more than for
+a long High Church sermon.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You speak a la Margutte,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Margutte!&rsquo; said the man in black, musingly, &lsquo;Margutte!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You have read Pulci, I suppose?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; said the man in black, laughing; &lsquo;I remember.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He might be rendered into English,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;something
+in this style:<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To which Margutte answered with a sneer,<br>
+I like the blue no better than the black,<br>
+My faith consists alone in savoury cheer,<br>
+In roasted capons, and in potent sack;<br>
+But above all, in famous gin and clear,<br>
+Which often lays the Briton on his back;<br>
+With lump of sugar, and with lymph from well,<br>
+I drink it, and defy the fiends of hell.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He! he! he!&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;that is more
+than Mezzofante could have done for a stanza of Byron.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A clever man,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who?&rsquo; said the man in black.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Mezzofante di Bologna.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He! he! he!&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;now I know that
+you are not a gypsy, at least a soothsayer; no soothsayer would have
+said that - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;does he not understand five-and-twenty
+tongues?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh yes,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;and five-and-twenty
+added to them; but, he! he! he! it was principally from him, who is
+certainly the greatest of Philologists, that I formed my opinion of
+the sect.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You ought to speak of him with more respect,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I
+have heard say that he has done good service to your See.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh yes,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;he has done good
+service to our See, that is, in his way; when the neophytes of the Propaganda
+are to be examined in the several tongues in which they are destined
+to preach, he is appointed to question them, the questions being first
+written down for him, or else, he! he! he! - Of course you know Napoleon&rsquo;s
+estimate of Mezzofante; he sent for the linguist from motives of curiosity,
+and after some discourse with him, told him that he might depart; then
+turning to some of his generals he observed, &ldquo;Nous avons eu ici
+un exemple qu&rsquo;un homme peut avoir beaucoup de paroles avec bien
+pen d&rsquo;esprit.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are ungrateful to him,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;well, perhaps,
+when he is dead and gone you will do him justice.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;True,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;when he is dead and
+gone, we intend to erect him a statue of wood, on the left-hand side
+of the door of the Vatican library.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Of wood?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He was the son of a carpenter, you know,&rsquo; said the man
+in black; &lsquo;the figure will be of wood for no other reason, I assure
+you; he! he!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You should place another statue on the right.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Perhaps we shall,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;but we
+know of no one amongst the philologists of Italy, nor, indeed, of the
+other countries inhabited by the faithful, worthy to sit parallel in
+effigy with our illustrissimo; when, indeed, we have conquered these
+regions of the perfidious by bringing the inhabitants thereof to the
+true faith, I have no doubt that we shall be able to select one worthy
+to bear him company - one whose statue shall be placed on the right
+hand of the library, in testimony of our joy at his conversion; for,
+as you know, &ldquo;There is more joy,&rdquo; etc.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Wood?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I hope not,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;no, if I be
+consulted as to the material for the statue, I should strongly recommend
+bronze.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+And when the man in black had said this, he emptied his second tumbler
+of its contents, and prepared himself another.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XCIV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Prerogative - Feeling of gratitude - A long history - Alliterative style
+- Advantageous specimen - Jesuit benefice - Not sufficient - Queen Stork&rsquo;s
+tragedy - Good sense - Grandeur and gentility - Ironmonger&rsquo;s daughter
+- Clan Mac-Sycophant - Lickspittles - A curiosity - Newspaper editors
+- Charles the Simple - High-flying ditty - Dissenters - Lower classes
+- Priestley&rsquo;s house - Saxon ancestors - Austin - Renovating glass
+- Money - Quite original.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So you hope to bring these regions again beneath the banner of
+the Roman See?&rsquo; said I, after the man in black had prepared the
+beverage, and tasted it.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hope!&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;how can we fail?&nbsp;
+Is not the Church of these regions going to lose its prerogative?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Its prerogative?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes; those who should be the guardians of the religion of England
+are about to grant Papists emancipation, and to remove the disabilities
+from Dissenters, which will allow the Holy Father to play his own game
+in England.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+On my inquiring how the Holy Father intended to play his game, the man
+in black gave me to understand that he intended for the present to cover
+the land with temples, in which the religion of Protestants would be
+continually scoffed at and reviled.<br>
+<br>
+On my observing that such behaviour would savour strongly of ingratitude,
+the man in black gave me to understand that if I entertained the idea
+that the See of Rome was ever influenced in its actions by any feeling
+of gratitude I was much mistaken, assuring me that if the See of Rome
+in any encounter should chance to be disarmed, and its adversary, from
+a feeling of magnanimity, should restore the sword which had been knocked
+out of its hand, the See of Rome always endeavoured on the first opportunity
+to plunge the said sword into its adversary&rsquo;s bosom; conduct which
+the man in black seemed to think was very wise, and which he assured
+me had already enabled it to get rid of a great many troublesome adversaries,
+and would, he had no doubt, enable it to get rid of a great many more.<br>
+<br>
+On my attempting to argue against the propriety of such behaviour, the
+man in black cut the matter short by saying that if one party was a
+fool he saw no reason why the other should imitate it in its folly.<br>
+<br>
+After musing a little while, I told him that emancipation had not yet
+passed through the legislature, and that perhaps it never would; reminding
+him that there was often many a slip between the cup and the lip; to
+which observation the man in black agreed, assuring me, however, that
+there was no doubt that emancipation would be carried, inasmuch as there
+was a very loud cry at present in the land - a cry of &lsquo;tolerance,&rsquo;
+which had almost frightened the Government out of its wits; who, to
+get rid of the cry, was going to grant all that was asked in the way
+of toleration, instead of telling the people to &lsquo;hold their nonsense,&rsquo;
+and cutting them down provided they continued bawling longer.<br>
+<br>
+I questioned the man in black with respect to the origin of this cry;
+but he said, to trace it to its origin would require a long history;
+that, at any rate, such a cry was in existence, the chief raisers of
+it being certain of the nobility, called Whigs, who hoped by means of
+it to get into power, and to turn out certain ancient adversaries of
+theirs called Tories, who were for letting things remain <i>in statu
+quo</i>; that these Whigs were backed by a party amongst the people
+called Radicals, a specimen of whom I had seen in the public-house;
+a set of fellows who were always in the habit of bawling against those
+in place; &lsquo;and so,&rsquo; he added, &lsquo;by means of these parties,
+and the hubbub which the Papists and other smaller sects are making,
+a general emancipation will be carried, and the Church of England humbled,
+which is the principal thing which the See of Rome cares for.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+On my telling the man in black that I believed that, even among the
+high dignitaries of the English Church, there were many who wished to
+grant perfect freedom to religions of all descriptions, he said he was
+aware that such was the fact, and that such a wish was anything but
+wise, inasmuch as, if they had any regard for the religion they professed,
+they ought to stand by it through thick and thin, proclaiming it to
+be the only true one, and denouncing all others, in an alliterative
+style, as dangerous and damnable; whereas, by their present conduct,
+they were bringing their religion into contempt with the people at large,
+who would never continue long attached to a Church the ministers of
+which did not stand up for it, and likewise cause their own brethren,
+who had a clearer notion of things, to be ashamed of belonging to it.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I speak advisedly,&rsquo; said he, in continuation; &lsquo;there
+is one Platitude.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And I hope there is only one,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;you surely
+would not adduce the likes and dislikes of that poor silly fellow as
+the criterions of the opinions of any party?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You know him,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;nay, I heard
+you mention him in the public-house; the fellow is not very wise, I
+admit, but he has sense enough to know that, unless a Church can make
+people hold their tongues when it thinks fit, it is scarcely deserving
+the name of a Church; no, I think that the fellow is not such a very
+bad stick, and that upon the whole he is, or rather was, an advantageous
+specimen of the High Church English clergy, who, for the most part,
+so far from troubling their heads about persecuting people, only think
+of securing their tithes, eating their heavy dinners, puffing out their
+cheeks with importance on country justice benches, and occasionally
+exhibiting their conceited wives, hoyden daughters, and gawky sons at
+country balls, whereas Platitude - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Stop,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;you said in the public-house that
+the Church of England was a persecuting Church, and here in the dingle
+you have confessed that one section of it is willing to grant perfect
+freedom to the exercise of all religions, and the other only thinks
+of leading an easy life.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Saying a thing in the public-house is a widely different thing
+from saying it in the dingle,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;had
+the Church of England been a persecuting Church, it would not stand
+in the position in which it stands at present; it might, with its opportunities,
+have spread itself over the greater part of the world.&nbsp; I was about
+to observe that, instead of practising the indolent habits of his High
+Church brethren, Platitude would be working for his money, preaching
+the proper use of fire and faggot, or rather of the halter and the whipping-post,
+encouraging mobs to attack the houses of Dissenters, employing spies
+to collect the scandal of neighbourhoods, in order that he might use
+it for sacerdotal purposes, and, in fact, endeavouring to turn an English
+parish into something like a Jesuit benefice in the south of France.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He tried that game,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and the parish said
+&ldquo;Pooh, pooh,&rdquo; and, for the most part, went over to the Dissenters.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very true,&rsquo; said the man in black, taking a sip at his
+glass, &lsquo;but why were the Dissenters allowed to preach? why were
+they not beaten on the lips till they spat out blood, with a dislodged
+tooth or two?&nbsp; Why, but because the authority of the Church of
+England has, by its own fault, become so circumscribed that Mr. Platitude
+was not able to send a host of beadles and sbirri to their chapel to
+bring them to reason, on which account Mr. Platitude is very properly
+ashamed of his Church, and is thinking of uniting himself with one which
+possesses more vigour and authority.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It may have vigour and authority,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;in foreign
+lands, but in these kingdoms the day for practising its atrocities is
+gone by.&nbsp; It is at present almost below contempt, and is obliged
+to sue for grace <i>in forma pauperis</i>.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very true,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;but let it once
+obtain emancipation, and it will cast its slough, put on its fine clothes,
+and make converts by thousands.&nbsp; &lsquo;What a fine Church!&rsquo;
+they&rsquo;ll say; &lsquo;with what authority it speaks! no doubts,
+no hesitation, no sticking at trifles.&nbsp; What a contrast to the
+sleepy English Church!&nbsp; They&rsquo;ll go over to it by millions,
+till it preponderates here over every other, when it will of course
+be voted the dominant one; and then - and then - &rsquo; and here the
+man in black drank a considerable quantity of gin and water.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What then?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What then?&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;why she will
+be true to herself.&nbsp; Let Dissenters, whether they be Church of
+England, as perhaps they may still call themselves, Methodist, or Presbyterian,
+presume to grumble, and there shall be bruising of lips in pulpits,
+tying up to whipping-posts, cutting off ears and noses - he! he! the
+farce of King Log has been acted long enough; the time for Queen Stork&rsquo;s
+tragedy is drawing nigh&rsquo;; and the man in black sipped his gin
+and water in a very exulting manner.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And this is the Church which, according to your assertion in
+the public-house, never persecutes?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have already given you an answer,&rsquo; said the man in black.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;With respect to the matter of the public-house, it is one of
+the happy privileges of those who belong to my Church to deny in the
+public-house what they admit in the dingle; we have high warranty for
+such double speaking.&nbsp; Did not the foundation stone of our Church,
+Saint Peter, deny in the public-house what he had previously professed
+in the valley?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And do you think,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that the people of England,
+who have shown aversion to anything in the shape of intolerance, will
+permit such barbarities as you have described?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Let them become Papists,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;only
+let the majority become Papists, and you will see.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They will never become so,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;the good sense
+of the people of England will never permit them to commit such an absurdity.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The good sense of the people of England!&rsquo; said the man
+in black, filling himself another glass.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;the good sense of not only the upper,
+but the middle and lower classes.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And of what description of people are the upper class?&rsquo;
+said the man in black, putting a lump of sugar into his gin and water.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Very fine people,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;monstrously fine people;
+so, at least, they are generally believed to be.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He! he!&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;only those think
+them so who don&rsquo;t know them.&nbsp; The male part of the upper
+class are in youth a set of heartless profligates; in old age, a parcel
+of poor, shaking, nervous paillards.&nbsp; The female part, worthy to
+be the sisters and wives of such wretches - unmarried, full of cold
+vice, kept under by vanity and ambition, but which, after marriage,
+they seek not to restrain; in old age, abandoned to vapours and horrors;
+do you think that such beings will afford any obstacle to the progress
+of the Church in these regions, as soon as her movements are unfettered?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I cannot give an opinion; I know nothing of them, except from
+a distance.&nbsp; But what think you of the middle classes?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Their chief characteristic,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;is
+a rage for grandeur and gentility; and that same rage makes us quite
+sure of them in the long run.&nbsp; Everything that&rsquo;s lofty meets
+their unqualified approbation; whilst everything humble, or, as they
+call it, &ldquo;low,&rdquo; is scouted by them.&nbsp; They begin to
+have a vague idea that the religion which they have hitherto professed
+is low; at any rate, that it is not the religion of the mighty ones
+of the earth, of the great kings and emperors whose shoes they have
+a vast inclination to kiss, nor was used by the grand personages of
+whom they have read in their novels and romances, their Ivanhoes, their
+Marmions, and their Ladies of the Lake.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Do you think that the writings of Scott have had any influence
+in modifying their religious opinions?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Most certainly I do,&rsquo; said the man in black.&nbsp; &lsquo;The
+writings of that man have made them greater fools than they were before.&nbsp;
+All their conversation now is about gallant knights, princesses, and
+cavaliers, with which his pages are stuffed - all of whom were Papists,
+or very High Church, which is nearly the same thing; and they are beginning
+to think that the religion of such nice sweet-scented gentry must be
+something very superfine.&nbsp; Why, I know at Birmingham the daughter
+of an ironmonger, who screeches to the piano the Lady of the Lake&rsquo;s
+hymn to the Virgin Mary, always weeps when Mary Queen of Scots is mentioned,
+and fasts on the anniversary of the death of that very wise martyr,
+Charles the First.&nbsp; Why, I would engage to convert such an idiot
+to popery in a week, were it worth my trouble.&nbsp; O Cavaliere Gualtiero,
+avete fatto molto in favore della Santa Sede!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If he has,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;he has done it unwittingly;
+I never heard before that he was a favourer of the popish delusion.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Only in theory,&rsquo; said the man in black.&nbsp; &lsquo;Trust
+any of the clan Mac-Sycophant for interfering openly and boldly in favour
+of any cause on which the sun does not shine benignantly.&nbsp; Popery
+is at present, as you say, suing for grace in these regions <i>in forma
+pauperis</i>; but let royalty once take it up, let old gouty George
+once patronise it, and I would consent to drink puddle-water if, the
+very next time the canny Scot was admitted to the royal symposium, he
+did not say, &ldquo;By my faith, yere Majesty, I have always thought,
+at the bottom of my heart, that popery, as ill-scrapit tongues ca&rsquo;
+it, was a very grand religion; I shall be proud to follow your Majesty&rsquo;s
+example in adopting it.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I doubt not,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that both gouty George and
+his devoted servant will be mouldering in their tombs long before Royalty
+in England thinks about adopting popery.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We can wait,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;in these days
+of rampant gentility, there will be no want of kings nor of Scots about
+them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But not Walters,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Our work has been already tolerably well done by one,&rsquo;
+said the man in black; &lsquo;but if we wanted literature, we should
+never lack in these regions hosts of literary men of some kind or other
+to eulogise us, provided our religion were in the fashion, and our popish
+nobles chose - and they always do our bidding - to admit the canaille
+to their tables - their kitchen tables.&nbsp; As for literature in general,&rsquo;
+said he, &lsquo;the Santa Sede is not particularly partial to it, it
+may be employed both ways.&nbsp; In Italy, in particular, it has discovered
+that literary men are not always disposed to be lickspittles.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;For example, Dante,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;a dangerous personage;
+that poem of his cuts both ways; and then there was Pulci, that <i>Morgante</i>
+of his cuts both ways, or rather one way, and that sheer against us;
+and then there was Aretino, who dealt so hard with the <i>poveri frati</i>;
+all writers, at least Italian ones, are not lickspittles.&nbsp; And
+then in Spain, - &rsquo;tis true, Lope de Vega and Calderon were most
+inordinate lickspittles; the <i>Principe Constante</i> of the last is
+a curiosity in its way; and then the <i>Mary Stuart</i> of Lope; I think
+I shall recommend the perusal of that work to the Birmingham ironmonger&rsquo;s
+daughter - she has been lately thinking of adding &ldquo;a slight knowledge
+of the magneeficent language of the Peninsula&rdquo; to the rest of
+her accomplishments, he! he! he!&nbsp; But then there was Cervantes,
+starving, but straight; he deals us some hard knocks in that second
+part of his <i>Quixote</i>.&nbsp; Then there were some of the writers
+of the picaresque novels.&nbsp; No, all literary men are not lickspittles,
+whether in Italy or Spain, or, indeed, upon the Continent; it is only
+in England that all - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Come,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;Mind what you are about to say of
+English literary men.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why should I mind?&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;there
+are no literary men here.&nbsp; I have heard of literary men living
+in garrets, but not in dingles, whatever philologists may do; I may,
+therefore, speak out freely.&nbsp; It is only in England that literary
+men are invariably lickspittles; on which account, perhaps, they are
+so despised, even by those who benefit by their dirty services.&nbsp;
+Look at your fashionable novel-writers, he! he! - and, above all, at
+your newspaper editors, ho! ho!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You will, of course, except the editors of the - from your censure
+of the last class?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Them!&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;why, they might serve
+as models in the dirty trade to all the rest who practise it.&nbsp;
+See how they bepraise their patrons, the grand Whig nobility, who hope,
+by raising the cry of liberalism and by putting themselves at the head
+of the populace, to come into power shortly.&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t wish
+to be hard, at present, upon those Whigs,&rsquo; he continued, &lsquo;for
+they are playing our game; but a time will come when, not wanting them,
+we will kick them to a considerable distance: and then, when toleration
+is no longer the cry, and the Whigs are no longer backed by the populace,
+see whether the editors of the - will stand by them; they will prove
+themselves as expert lickspittles of despotism as of liberalism.&nbsp;
+Don&rsquo;t think they will always bespatter the Tories and Austria.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am sorry to find that you entertain
+so low an opinion of the spirit of English literary men; we will now
+return, if you please, to the subject of the middle classes; I think
+your strictures upon them in general are rather too sweeping - they
+are not altogether the foolish people which you have described.&nbsp;
+Look, for example, at that very powerful and numerous body the Dissenters,
+the descendants of those sturdy Patriots who hurled Charles the Simple
+from his throne.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There are some sturdy fellows amongst them, I do not deny,&rsquo;
+said the man in black, &lsquo;especially amongst the preachers, clever
+withal - two or three of that class nearly drove Mr. Platitude mad,
+as perhaps you are aware, but they are not very numerous; and the old
+sturdy sort of preachers are fast dropping off, and, as we observe with
+pleasure, are generally succeeded by frothy coxcombs, whom it would
+not be very difficult to gain over.&nbsp; But what we most rely upon
+as an instrument to bring the Dissenters over to us is the mania for
+gentility, which amongst them has of late become as great, and more
+ridiculous than amongst the middle classes belonging to the Church of
+England.&nbsp; All the plain and simple fashions of their forefathers
+they are either about to abandon, or have already done so.&nbsp; Look
+at the most part of their chapels - no longer modest brick edifices,
+situated in quiet and retired streets, but lunatic-looking erections,
+in what the simpletons call the modern Gothic taste, of Portland stone,
+with a cross upon the top, and the site generally the most conspicuous
+that can be found.&nbsp; And look at the manner in which they educate
+their children - I mean those that are wealthy.&nbsp; They do not even
+wish them to be Dissenters - &ldquo;the sweet dears shall enjoy the
+advantages of good society, of which their parents were debarred.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+So the girls are sent to tip-top boarding-schools, where amongst other
+trash they read <i>Rokeby</i>, and are taught to sing snatches from
+that high-flying ditty, the &ldquo;Cavalier&rdquo; -<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Would you match the base Skippon, and Massey, and Brown,<br>
+With the barons of England, who fight for the crown? -<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+he! he! their own names.&nbsp; Whilst the lads are sent to those hotbeds
+of pride and folly - colleges, whence they return with a greater contempt
+for everything &ldquo;low,&rdquo; and especially for their own pedigree,
+than they went with.&nbsp; I tell you, friend, the children of Dissenters,
+if not their parents, are going over to the Church, as you call it,
+and the Church is going over to Rome.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do not see the justice of that latter assertion at all,&rsquo;
+said I; &lsquo;some of the Dissenters&rsquo; children may be coming
+over to the Church of England, and yet the Church of England be very
+far from going over to Rome.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;In the high road for it, I assure you,&rsquo; said the man in
+black; &lsquo;part of it is going to abandon, the rest to lose their
+prerogative, and when a Church no longer retains its prerogative, it
+speedily loses its own respect, and that of others.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;if the higher classes have all the
+vices and follies which you represent, on which point I can say nothing,
+as I have never mixed with them; and even supposing the middle classes
+are the foolish beings you would fain make them, and which I do not
+believe them as a body to be, you would still find some resistance amongst
+the lower classes: I have a considerable respect for their good sense
+and independence of character; but pray let me hear your opinion of
+them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;As for the lower classes,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;I
+believe them to be the most brutal wretches in the world, the most addicted
+to foul feeding, foul language, and foul vices of every kind; wretches
+who have neither love for country, religion, nor anything save their
+own vile selves.&nbsp; You surely do not think that they would oppose
+a change of religion! why, there is not one of them but would hurrah
+for the Pope, or Mahomet, for the sake of a hearty gorge and a drunken
+bout, like those which they are treated with at election contests.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Has your church any followers amongst them?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Wherever there happens to be a Romish family of considerable
+possessions,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;our church is sure
+to have followers of the lower class, who have come over in the hope
+of getting something in the shape of dole or donation.&nbsp; As, however,
+the Romish is not yet the dominant religion, and the clergy of the English
+establishment have some patronage to bestow, the churches are not quite
+deserted by the lower classes; yet, were the Romish to become the established
+religion, they would, to a certainty, all go over to it; you can scarcely
+imagine what a self-interested set they are - for example, the landlord
+of that public-house in which I first met you, having lost a sum of
+money upon a cock-fight, and his affairs in consequence being in a bad
+condition, is on the eve of coming over to us, in the hope that two
+old Popish females of property, whom I confess, will advance a sum of
+money to set him up again in the world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what could have put such an idea into the poor fellow&rsquo;s
+head?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh, he and I have had some conversation upon the state of his
+affairs,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;I think he might make
+a rather useful convert in these parts, provided things take a certain
+turn, as they doubtless will.&nbsp; It is no bad thing to have a fighting
+fellow, who keeps a public-house, belonging to one&rsquo;s religion.&nbsp;
+He has been occasionally employed as a bully at elections by the Tory
+party, and he may serve us in the same capacity.&nbsp; The fellow comes
+of a good stock; I heard him say that his father headed the High Church
+mob who sacked and burnt Priestley&rsquo;s house at Birmingham, towards
+the end of the last century.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A disgraceful affair,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you mean by a disgraceful affair?&rsquo; said the man
+in black.&nbsp; &lsquo;I assure you that nothing has occurred for the
+last fifty years which has given the High Church party so much credit
+in the eyes of Rome as that, - we did not imagine that the fellows had
+so much energy.&nbsp; Had they followed up that affair by twenty others
+of a similar kind, they would by this time have had everything in their
+own power; but they did not, and, as a necessary consequence, they are
+reduced to almost nothing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I suppose,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that your Church would have
+acted very differently in its place.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It has always done so,&rsquo; said the man in black, coolly sipping.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Our Church has always armed the brute population against the
+genius and intellect of a country, provided that same intellect and
+genius were not willing to become its instruments and eulogists; and
+provided we once obtain a firm hold here again, we would not fail to
+do so.&nbsp; We would occasionally stuff the beastly rabble with horseflesh
+and bitter ale, and then halloo them on against all those who were obnoxious
+to us.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Horseflesh and bitter ale!&rsquo; I replied.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;horseflesh and bitter
+ale - the favourite delicacies of their Saxon ancestors, who were always
+ready to do our bidding after a liberal allowance of such cheer.&nbsp;
+There is a tradition in our Church, that before the Northumbrian rabble,
+at the instigation of Austin, attacked and massacred the presbyterian
+monks of Bangor, they had been allowed a good gorge of horseflesh and
+bitter ale.&nbsp; He! he! he!&rsquo; continued the man in black, &lsquo;what
+a fine spectacle to see such a mob, headed by a fellow like our friend
+the landlord, sack the house of another Priestley!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then you don&rsquo;t deny that we have had a Priestley,&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;and admit the possibility of our having another?&nbsp;
+You were lately observing that all English literary men were sycophants?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Lickspittles,&rsquo; said the man in black; &lsquo;yes, I admit
+that you have had a Priestley, but he was a Dissenter of the old class;
+you have had him, and perhaps may have another.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Perhaps we may,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;But with respect
+to the lower classes, have you mixed much with them?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have mixed with all classes,&rsquo; said the man in black,
+&lsquo;and with the lower not less than the upper and middle; they are
+much as I have described them; and of the three, the lower are the worst.&nbsp;
+I never knew one of them that possessed the slightest principle, no,
+not -.&nbsp; It is true, there was one fellow whom I once met, who -
+; but it is a long story, and the affair happened abroad. - I ought
+to know something of the English people,&rsquo; he continued, after
+a moment&rsquo;s pause; &lsquo;I have been many years amongst them,
+labouring in the cause of the Church.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Your See must have had great confidence in your powers when it
+selected you to labour for it in these parts,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They chose me,&rsquo; said the man in black, &lsquo;principally
+because, being of British extraction and education, I could speak the
+English language and bear a glass of something strong.&nbsp; It is the
+opinion of my See that it would hardly do to send a missionary into
+a country like this who is not well versed in English - a country where,
+they think, so far from understanding any language besides his own,
+scarcely one individual in ten speaks his own intelligibly; or an ascetic
+person where, as they say, high and low, male and female, are, at some
+period of their lives, fond of a renovating glass, as it is styled -
+in other words, of tippling.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Your See appears to entertain a very strange opinion of the English,&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not altogether an unjust one,&rsquo; said the man in black, lifting
+the glass to his mouth.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;it is certainly very kind on its
+part to wish to bring back such a set of beings beneath its wing.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, as to the kindness of my See,&rsquo; said the man in black,
+&lsquo;I have not much to say; my See has generally in what it does
+a tolerably good motive; these heretics possess in plenty what my See
+has a great hankering for, and can turn to a good account - money!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Founder of the Christian religion cared nothing for money,&rsquo;
+said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What have we to do with what the Founder of the Christian religion
+cared for?&rsquo; said the man in black.&nbsp; &lsquo;How could our
+temples be built and our priests supported without money?&nbsp; But
+you are unwise to reproach us with a desire of obtaining money; you
+forget that your own Church, if the Church of England be your own Church,
+as I suppose it is from the willingness which you displayed in the public-house
+to fight for it, is equally avaricious; look at your greedy Bishops
+and your corpulent Rectors - do they imitate Christ in His disregard
+for money?&nbsp; You might as well tell me that they imitate Christ
+in His meekness and humility.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;whatever their faults may be, you
+can&rsquo;t say that they go to Rome for money.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man in black made no direct answer, but appeared by the motion of
+his lips to be repeating something to himself.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I see your glass is again empty,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;perhaps
+you will replenish it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The man in black arose from his seat, adjusted his habiliments, which
+were rather in disorder, and placed upon his head his hat, which he
+had laid aside; then, looking at me, who was still lying on the ground,
+he said - &lsquo;I might, perhaps, take another glass, though I believe
+I have had quite as much as I can well bear; but I do not wish to hear
+you utter anything more this evening, after that last observation of
+yours - it is quite original; I will meditate upon it on my pillow this
+night, after having said an ave and a pater - go to Rome for money!&rsquo;&nbsp;
+He then made Belle a low bow, slightly motioned to me with his hand
+as if bidding farewell, and then left the dingle with rather uneven
+steps.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Go to Rome for money,&rsquo; I heard him say as he ascended the
+winding path, &lsquo;he! he! he!&nbsp; Go to Rome for money, ho! ho!
+ho!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XCV<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Wooded retreat - Fresh shoes - Wood fire - Ash, when green - Queen of
+China - Cleverest people - Declensions - Armenian - Thunder - Deep olive
+- What do you mean? - Koul Adonai - The thick bushes - Wood pigeon -
+Old G&ouml;the.<br>
+<br>
+Nearly three days elapsed without anything of particular moment occurring.&nbsp;
+Belle drove the little cart containing her merchandise about the neighbourhood,
+returning to the dingle towards the evening.&nbsp; As for myself, I
+kept within my wooded retreat, working during the periods of her absence
+leisurely at my forge.&nbsp; Having observed that the quadruped which
+my companion drove was as much in need of shoes as my own had been some
+time previously, I had determined to provide it with a set, and during
+the aforesaid periods occupied myself in preparing them.&nbsp; As I
+was employed three mornings and afternoons about them, I am sure that
+the reader will agree that I worked leisurely, or rather, lazily.&nbsp;
+On the third day Belle arrived somewhat later than usual; I was lying
+on my back at the bottom of the dingle, employed in tossing up the shoes
+which I had produced, and catching them as they fell - some being always
+in the air mounting or descending, somewhat after the fashion of the
+waters of a fountain.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why have you been absent so long?&rsquo; said I to Belle; &lsquo;it
+must be long past four by the day.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have been almost killed by the heat,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;I
+was never out in a more sultry day - the poor donkey, too, could scarcely
+move along.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He shall have fresh shoes,&rsquo; said I, continuing my exercise;
+&lsquo;here they are quite ready; to-morrow I will tack them on.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And why are you playing with them in that manner?&rsquo; said
+Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Partly in triumph at having made them, and partly to show that
+I can do something besides making them; it is not every one who, after
+having made a set of horse-shoes, can keep them going up and down in
+the air, without letting one fall - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;One has now fallen on your chin,&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And another on my cheek,&rsquo; said I, getting up; &lsquo;it
+is time to discontinue the game, for the last shoe drew blood.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Belle went to her own little encampment; and as for myself, after having
+flung the donkey&rsquo;s shoes into my tent, I put some fresh wood on
+the fire, which was nearly out, and hung the kettle over it.&nbsp; I
+then issued forth from the dingle, and strolled round the wood that
+surrounded it; for a long time I was busied in meditation, looking at
+the ground, striking with my foot, half unconsciously, the tufts of
+grass and thistles that I met in my way.&nbsp; After some time, I lifted
+up my eyes to the sky, at first vacantly, and then with more attention,
+turning my head in all directions for a minute or two; after which I
+returned to the dingle.&nbsp; Isopel was seated near the fire, over
+which the kettle was now hung; she had changed her dress - no signs
+of the dust and fatigue of her late excursion remained; she had just
+added to the fire a small billet of wood, two or three of which I had
+left beside it; the fire cracked, and a sweet odour filled the dingle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am fond of sitting by a wood fire,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;when
+abroad, whether it be hot or cold; I love to see the flames dart out
+of the wood; but what kind is this, and where did you get it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is ash,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;green ash.&nbsp; Somewhat less
+than a week ago, whilst I was wandering along the road by the side of
+a wood, I came to a place where some peasants were engaged in cutting
+up and clearing away a confused mass of fallen timber: a mighty aged
+oak had given way the night before, and in its fall had shivered some
+smaller trees; the upper part of the oak, and the fragments of the rest,
+lay across the road.&nbsp; I purchased, for a trifle, a bundle or two,
+and the wood on the fire is part of it - ash, green ash.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That makes good the old rhyme,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;which
+I have heard sung by the old women in the great house:-<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ash, when green,<br>
+Is fire for a queen.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And on fairer form of queen ash fire never shone,&rsquo; said
+I, &lsquo;than on thine, O beauteous queen of the dingle.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am half disposed to be angry with you, young man,&rsquo; said
+Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And why not entirely?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+Belle made no reply.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Shall I tell you?&rsquo; I demanded.&nbsp; &lsquo;You had no
+objection to the first part of the speech, but you did not like being
+called queen of the dingle.&nbsp; Well, if I had the power, I would
+make you queen of something better than the dingle - Queen of China.&nbsp;
+Come, let us have tea.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Something less would content me,&rsquo; said Belle, sighing,
+as she rose to prepare our evening meal.<br>
+<br>
+So we took tea together, Belle and I.&nbsp; &lsquo;How delicious tea
+is after a hot summer&rsquo;s day and a long walk,&rsquo; said she.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I daresay it is most refreshing then,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but
+I have heard people say that they most enjoy it on a cold winter&rsquo;s
+night, when the kettle is hissing on the fire, and their children playing
+on the hearth.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Belle sighed.&nbsp; &lsquo;Where does tea come from?&rsquo; she presently
+demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;From China,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I just now mentioned it, and
+the mention of it put me in mind of tea.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What kind of country is China?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I know very little about it; all I know is, that it is a very
+large country far to the East, but scarcely large enough to contain
+its inhabitants, who are so numerous, that though China does not cover
+one-ninth part of the world, its inhabitants amount to one-third of
+the population of the world.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And do they talk as we do?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh no!&nbsp; I know nothing of their language; but I have heard
+that it is quite different from all others, and so difficult that none
+but the cleverest people amongst foreigners can master it, on which
+account, perhaps, only the French pretend to know anything about it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are the French so very clever, then?&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;They say there are no people like them, at least in Europe.&nbsp;
+But talking of Chinese reminds me that I have not for some time past
+given you a lesson in Armenian.&nbsp; The word for tea in Armenian is
+- by the bye what is the Armenian word for tea?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s your affair, not mine,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;it
+seems hard that the master should ask the scholar.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;whatever the word may be in Armenian,
+it is a noun; and as we have never yet declined an Armenian noun together,
+we may as well take this opportunity of declining one.&nbsp; Belle,
+there are ten declensions in Armenian!<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What&rsquo;s a declension?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The way of declining a noun.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then, in the civilest way imaginable, I decline the noun.&nbsp;
+Is that a declension?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You should never play on words; to do so is low, vulgar, smelling
+of the pothouse, the workhouse.&nbsp; Belle, I insist on your declining
+an Armenian noun.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have done so already,&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If you go on in this way,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I shall decline
+taking any more tea with you.&nbsp; Will you decline an Armenian noun?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t like the language,&rsquo; said Belle.&nbsp; &lsquo;If
+you must teach me languages, why not teach me French or Chinese?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I know nothing of Chinese; and as for French, none but a Frenchman
+is clever enough to speak it - to say nothing of teaching; no, we will
+stick to Armenian, unless, indeed, you would prefer Welsh!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Welsh, I have heard, is vulgar,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;so,
+if I must learn one of the two, I will prefer Armenian, which I never
+heard of till you mentioned it to me; though, of the two, I really think
+Welsh sounds best.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The Armenian noun,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;which I propose for
+your declension this night, is -, which signifieth Master.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I neither like the word nor the sound,&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I can&rsquo;t help that,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;it is the word
+I choose: Master, with all its variations, being the first noun the
+sound of which I would have you learn from my lips.&nbsp; Come, let
+us begin -<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A master.&nbsp; Of a master, etc.&nbsp; Repeat - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am not much used to say the word,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;but
+to oblige you I will decline it as you wish&rsquo;; and thereupon Belle
+declined Master in Armenian.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You have declined the noun very well,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;that
+is in the singular number; we will now go to the plural.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What is the plural?&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;That which implies more than one, for example, Masters; you shall
+now go through masters in Armenian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;never; it is bad to have one
+master, but more I would never bear, whether in Armenian or English.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You do not understand,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I merely want you
+to decline Masters in Armenian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I do decline them; I will have nothing to do with them, nor with
+master either; I was wrong to - What sound is that?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I did not hear it, but I daresay it is thunder; in Armenian -
+&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Never mind what it is in Armenian; but why do you think it is
+thunder?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ere I returned from my stroll, I looked up into the heavens,
+and by their appearance I judged that a storm was nigh at hand.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And why did you not tell me so?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You never asked me about the state of the atmosphere, and I am
+not in the habit of giving my opinion to people on any subject, unless
+questioned.&nbsp; But, setting that aside, can you blame me for not
+troubling you with forebodings about storm and tempest, which might
+have prevented the pleasure you promised yourself in drinking tea, or
+perhaps a lesson in Armenian, though you pretend to dislike the latter?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My dislike is not pretended,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;I hate
+the sound of it, but I love my tea, and it was kind of you not to wish
+to cast a cloud over my little pleasures; the thunder came quite time
+enough to interrupt it without being anticipated - there is another
+peal - I will clear away, and see that my tent is in a condition to
+resist the storm; and I think you had better bestir yourself.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Isopel departed, and I remained seated on my stone, as nothing belonging
+to myself required any particular attention; in about a quarter of an
+hour she returned, and seated herself upon her stool.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;How dark the place is become since I left you,&rsquo; said she;
+&lsquo;just as if night were just at hand.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Look up at the sky,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;and you will not wonder;
+it is all of a deep olive.&nbsp; The wind is beginning to rise; hark
+how it moans among the branches, and see how their tops are bending;
+it brings dust on its wings - I felt some fall on my face; and what
+is this, a drop of rain?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We shall have plenty anon,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;do you hear?
+it already begins to hiss upon the embers; that fire of ours will soon
+be extinguished.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is not probable that we shall want it,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;but
+we had better seek shelter: let us go into my tent.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Go in,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;but you go in alone; as for
+me, I will seek my own.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are right,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;to be afraid of me; I have
+taught you to decline master in Armenian.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You almost tempt me,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;to make you decline
+mistress in English.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To make matters short,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I decline a mistress.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What do you mean?&rsquo; said Belle, angrily.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have merely done what you wished me,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and
+in your own style; there is no other way of declining anything in English,
+for in English there are no declensions.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The rain is increasing,&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is so,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I shall go to my tent; you may
+come if you please; I do assure you I am not afraid of you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nor I of you,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;so I will come.&nbsp;
+Why should I be afraid?&nbsp; I can take my own part; that is - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+We went into the tent and sat down, and now the rain began to pour with
+vehemence.&nbsp; &lsquo;I hope we shall not be flooded in this hollow,&rsquo;
+said I to Belle.&nbsp; &lsquo;There is no fear of that,&rsquo; said
+Belle; &lsquo;the wandering people, amongst other names, call it the
+dry hollow.&nbsp; I believe there is a passage somewhere or other by
+which the wet is carried off.&nbsp; There must be a cloud right above
+us, it is so dark.&nbsp; Oh! what a flash!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what a peal!&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;that is what the Hebrews
+call Koul Adonai - the voice of the Lord.&nbsp; Are you afraid?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;I rather like to hear it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You are right,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am fond of the sound of
+thunder myself.&nbsp; There is nothing like it; Koul Adonai behadar:
+the voice of the Lord is a glorious voice, as the prayer-book version
+hath it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There is something awful in it,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;and
+then the lightning - the whole dingle is now in a blaze.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&ldquo;The voice of the Lord maketh the hinds to calve, and discovereth
+the thick bushes.&rdquo;&nbsp; As you say, there is something awful
+in thunder.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There are all kinds of noises above us,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;surely
+I heard the crashing of a tree?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&ldquo;The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedar trees,&rdquo;&rsquo;
+said I, &lsquo;but what you hear is caused by a convulsion of the air;
+during a thunder-storm there are occasionally all kinds of aerial noises.&nbsp;
+Ab Gwilym, who, next to King David, has best described a thunderstorm,
+speaks of these aerial noises in the following manner:-<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Astonied now I stand at strains,<br>
+As of ten thousand clanking chains;<br>
+And once, methought that, overthrown,<br>
+The welkin&rsquo;s oaks came whelming down;<br>
+Upon my head up starts my hair:<br>
+Why hunt abroad the hounds of air?<br>
+What cursed hag is screeching high,<br>
+Whilst crash goes all her crockery?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+You would hardly believe, Belle, that though I offered at least ten
+thousand lines nearly as good as those to the booksellers in London,
+the simpletons were so blind to their interest, as to refuse purchasing
+them!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t wonder at it,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;especially
+if such dreadful expressions frequently occur as that towards the end;
+- surely that was the crash of a tree?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah!&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;there falls the cedar tree - I mean
+the sallow; one of the tall trees on the outside of the dingle has been
+snapped short.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What a pity,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;that the fine old oak,
+which you saw the peasants cutting up, gave way the other night, when
+scarcely a breath of air was stirring; how much better to have fallen
+in a storm like this, the fiercest I remember.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think so,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;after braving a
+thousand tempests, it was meeter for it to fall of itself than to be
+vanquished at last.&nbsp; But to return to Ab Gwilym&rsquo;s poetry:
+he was above culling dainty words, and spoke boldly his mind on all
+subjects.&nbsp; Enraged with the thunder for parting him and Morfydd,
+he says, at the conclusion of his ode,<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My curse, O Thunder, cling to thee,<br>
+For parting my dear pearl and me!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;You and I shall part, that is, I shall go to my tent, if you
+persist in repeating from him.&nbsp; The man must have been a savage.&nbsp;
+A poor wood-pigeon has fallen dead.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;there he lies, just outside the tent;
+often have I listened to his note when alone in this wilderness.&nbsp;
+So you do not like Ab Gwilym; what say you to old G&ouml;the? -<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Mist shrouds the night, and rack;<br>
+Hear, in the woods, what an awful crack!<br>
+Wildly the owls are flitting,<br>
+Hark to the pillars splitting<br>
+Of palaces verdant ever,<br>
+The branches quiver and sever,<br>
+The mighty stems are creaking,<br>
+The poor roots breaking and shrieking,<br>
+In wild mixt ruin down dashing,<br>
+O&rsquo;er one another they&rsquo;re crashing;<br>
+Whilst &lsquo;midst the rocks so hoary<br>
+Whirlwinds hurry and worry.<br>
+Hear&rsquo;st not, sister - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hark!&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;hark!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Hear&rsquo;st not, sister, a chorus<br>
+Of voices - ?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;but I hear a voice.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XCVI<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+A shout - A fireball - See to the horses - Passing away - Gap in the
+hedge - On three wheels - Why do you stop? - No craven heart - The cordial
+- Across the country - Small bags.<br>
+<br>
+I listened attentively, but I could hear nothing but the loud clashing
+of branches, the pattering of rain, and the muttered growl of thunder.&nbsp;
+I was about to tell Belle that she must have been mistaken, when I heard
+a shout - indistinct, it is true, owing to the noises aforesaid - from
+some part of the field above the dingle.&nbsp; &lsquo;I will soon see
+what&rsquo;s the matter,&rsquo; said I to Belle, starting up.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I will go too;&rsquo; said the girl.&nbsp; &lsquo;Stay where
+you are,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;if I need you, I will call&rsquo;; and,
+without waiting for any answer, I hurried to the mouth of the dingle.&nbsp;
+I was about a few yards only from the top of the ascent, when I beheld
+a blaze of light, from whence I knew not; the next moment there was
+a loud crash, and I appeared involved in a cloud of sulphurous smoke.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Lord have mercy upon us!&rsquo; I heard a voice say, and methought
+I heard the plunging and struggling of horses.&nbsp; I had stopped short
+on hearing the crash, for I was half stunned; but I now hurried forward,
+and in a moment stood upon the plain.&nbsp; Here I was instantly aware
+of the cause of the crash and the smoke.&nbsp; One of those balls, generally
+called fireballs, had fallen from the clouds, and was burning on the
+plain at a short distance; and the voice which I had heard, and the
+plunging, were as easily accounted for.&nbsp; Near the left-hand corner
+of the grove which surrounded the dingle, and about ten yards from the
+fireball, I perceived a chaise, with a postilion on the box, who was
+making efforts, apparently useless, to control his horses, which were
+kicking and plunging in the highest degree of excitement.&nbsp; I instantly
+ran towards the chaise, in order to offer what help was in my power.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Help me,&rsquo; said the poor fellow, as I drew nigh; but before
+I could reach the horses, they had turned rapidly round, one of the
+fore-wheels flew from its axle-tree, the chaise was overset, and the
+postilion flung violently from his seat upon the field.&nbsp; The horses
+now became more furious than before, kicking desperately, and endeavouring
+to disengage themselves from the fallen chaise.&nbsp; As I was hesitating
+whether to run to the assistance of the postilion or endeavour to disengage
+the animals, I heard the voice of Belle exclaiming, &lsquo;See to the
+horses, I will look after the man.&rsquo;&nbsp; She had, it seems, been
+alarmed by the crash which accompanied the firebolt, and had hurried
+up to learn the cause.&nbsp; I forthwith seized the horses by the heads,
+and used all the means I possessed to soothe and pacify them, employing
+every gentle modulation of which my voice was capable.&nbsp; Belle,
+in the meantime, had raised up the man, who was much stunned by his
+fall; but, presently recovering his recollection to a certain degree,
+he came limping to me, holding his hand to his right thigh.&nbsp; &lsquo;The
+first thing that must now be done,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;is to free
+these horses from the traces; can you undertake to do so?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo; I think I can,&rsquo; said the man, looking at me somewhat stupidly.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I will help,&rsquo; said Belle, and without loss of time laid
+hold of one of the traces.&nbsp; The man, after a short pause, also
+set to work, and in a few minutes the horses were extricated.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Now,&rsquo; said I to the man, &lsquo;what is next to be done?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rsquo; said he; &lsquo;indeed, I scarcely
+know anything; I have been so frightened by this horrible storm, and
+so shaken by my fall.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I think,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;that
+the storm is passing away, so cast your fears away too; and as for your
+fall, you must bear it as lightly as you can.&nbsp; I will tie the horses
+amongst those trees, and then we will all betake us to the hollow below.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;And what&rsquo;s to become of my chaise?&rsquo; said the postilion,
+looking ruefully on the fallen vehicle.&nbsp; &lsquo;Let us leave the
+chaise for the present,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;we can be of no use to
+it.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t like to leave my chaise lying
+on the ground in this weather,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;I love my
+chaise, and him whom it belongs to.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You are quite
+right to be fond of yourself,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;on which account
+I advise you to seek shelter from the rain as soon as possible.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I was not talking of myself,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;but
+my master, to whom the chaise belongs.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I thought
+you called the chaise yours,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;That&rsquo;s
+my way of speaking,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;but the chaise is my
+master&rsquo;s, and a better master does not live.&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t
+you think we could manage to raise up the chaise?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;And
+what is to become of the horses?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;I love
+my horses well enough,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;but they will take
+less harm than the chaise.&nbsp; We two can never lift up that chaise.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;But we three can,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;at least, I think
+so; and I know where to find two poles which will assist us.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;You had better go to the tent,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;you will
+be wet through.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I care not for a little wetting,&rsquo;
+said Belle; &lsquo;moreover, I have more gowns than one - see you after
+the horses.&rsquo;&nbsp; Thereupon, I led the horses past the mouth
+of the dingle, to a place where a gap in the hedge afforded admission
+to the copse or plantation on the southern side.&nbsp; Forcing them
+through the gap, I led them to a spot amidst the trees which I deemed
+would afford them the most convenient place for standing; then, darting
+down into the dingle, I brought up a rope, and also the halter of my
+own nag, and with these fastened them each to a separate tree in the
+best manner I could.&nbsp; This done, I returned to the chaise and the
+postilion.&nbsp; In a minute or two Belle arrived with two poles which,
+it seems, had long been lying, overgrown with brushwood, in a ditch
+or hollow behind the plantation.&nbsp; With these both she and I set
+to work in endeavouring to raise the fallen chaise from the ground.<br>
+<br>
+We experienced considerable difficulty in this undertaking; at length,
+with the assistance of the postilion, we saw our efforts crowned with
+success - the chaise was lifted up, and stood upright on three wheels.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We may leave it here in safety,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;for it
+will hardly move away on three wheels, even supposing it could run by
+itself; I am afraid there is work here for a wheelwright, in which case
+I cannot assist you; if you were in need of a blacksmith it would be
+otherwise.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think either the wheel
+or the axle is hurt,&rsquo; said the postilion, who had been handling
+both; &lsquo;it is only the linch-pin having dropped out that caused
+the wheel to fly off; if I could but find the linch-pin! - though, perhaps,
+it fell out a mile away.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Very likely,&rsquo; said
+I; &lsquo;but never mind the linch-pin, I can make you one, or something
+that will serve: but I can&rsquo;t stay here any longer, I am going
+to my place below with this young gentlewoman, and you had better follow
+us.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I am ready,&rsquo; said the man; and after lifting
+up the wheel and propping it against the chaise, he went with us, slightly
+limping, and with his hand pressed to his thigh.<br>
+<br>
+As we were descending the narrow path, Belle leading the way, and myself
+the last of the party, the postilion suddenly stopped short, and looked
+about him.&nbsp; &lsquo;Why do you stop?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+don&rsquo;t wish to offend you,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;but this
+seems to be a strange place you are leading me into; I hope you and
+the young gentlewoman, as you call her, don&rsquo;t mean me any harm
+- you seemed in a great hurry to bring me here.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;We
+wished to get you out of the rain,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;and ourselves
+too; that is, if we can, which I rather doubt, for the canvas of a tent
+is slight shelter in such a rain; but what harm should we wish to do
+you?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;You may think I have money,&rsquo; said the
+man, &lsquo;and I have some, but only thirty shillings, and for a sum
+like that it would be hardly worth while to - &rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Would
+it not?&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;thirty shillings, after all, are thirty
+shillings, and for what I know, half a dozen throats may have been cut
+in this place for that sum at the rate of five shillings each; moreover,
+there are the horses, which would serve to establish this young gentlewoman
+and myself in housekeeping, provided we were thinking of such a thing.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Then I suppose I have fallen into pretty hands,&rsquo; said the
+man, putting himself in a posture of defence; &lsquo;but I&rsquo;ll
+show no craven heart; and if you attempt to lay hands on me, I&rsquo;ll
+try to pay you in your own coin.&nbsp; I&rsquo;m rather lamed in the
+leg, but I can still use my fists; so come on, both of you, man and
+woman, if woman this be, though she looks more like a grenadier.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Let me hear no more of this nonsense,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;if
+you are afraid, you can go back to your chaise - we only seek to do
+you a kindness.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, he was just now talking of cutting throats,&rsquo; said
+the man.&nbsp; &lsquo;You brought it on yourself,&rsquo; said Belle;
+&lsquo;you suspected us, and he wished to pass a joke upon you; he would
+not hurt a hair of your head, were your coach laden with gold, nor would
+I.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;I was wrong
+- here&rsquo;s my hand to both of you,&rsquo; shaking us by the hands;
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;ll go with you where you please, but I thought this a
+strange lonesome place, though I ought not much to mind strange lonesome
+places, having been in plenty of such when I was a servant in Italy,
+without coming to any harm - come, let us move on, for &rsquo;tis a
+shame to keep you two in the rain.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+So we descended the path which led into the depths of the dingle; at
+the bottom I conducted the postilion to my tent, which, though the rain
+dripped and trickled through it, afforded some shelter; there I bade
+him sit down on the log of wood, whilst I placed myself as usual on
+my stone.&nbsp; Belle in the meantime had repaired to her own place
+of abode.&nbsp; After a little time, I produced a bottle of the cordial
+of which I have previously had occasion to speak, and made my guest
+take a considerable draught.&nbsp; I then offered him some, bread and
+cheese, which he accepted with thanks.&nbsp; In about an hour the rain
+had much abated: &lsquo;What do you now propose to do?&rsquo; said I.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I scarcely know,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;I suppose I must
+endeavour to put on the wheel with your help.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;How
+far are you from your home?&rsquo; I demanded.&nbsp; &lsquo;Upwards
+of thirty miles,&rsquo; said the man; &lsquo;my master keeps an inn
+on the great north road, and from thence I started early this morning
+with a family, which I conveyed across the country to a hall at some
+distance from here.&nbsp; On my return I was beset by the thunderstorm,
+which frightened the horses, who dragged the chaise off the road to
+the field above, and overset it as you saw.&nbsp; I had proposed to
+pass the night at an inn about twelve miles from here on my way back,
+though how I am to get there to-night I scarcely know, even if we can
+put on the wheel, for, to tell you the truth, I am shaken by my fall,
+and the smoulder and smoke of that fireball have rather bewildered my
+head; I am, moreover, not much acquainted with the way.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The best thing you can do,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;is to pass the
+night here; I will presently light a fire, and endeavour to make you
+comfortable - in the morning we will see to your wheel.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;I shall be glad to pass the
+night here, provided I do not intrude, but I must see to the horses.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Thereupon I conducted the man to the place where the horses were tied.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;The trees drip very much upon them,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;and
+it will not do for them to remain here all night; they will be better
+out on the field picking the grass; but first of all they must have
+a good feed of corn.&rsquo;&nbsp; Thereupon he went to his chaise, from
+which he presently brought two small bags, partly filled with corn -
+into them he inserted the mouths of the horses, tying them over their
+heads.&nbsp; &lsquo;Here we will leave them for a time,&rsquo; said
+the man; &lsquo;when I think they have had enough, I will come back,
+tie their fore-legs, and let them pick about.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XCVII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Fire of charcoal - The new-comer - No wonder! - Not a blacksmith - A
+love affair - Gretna Green - A cool thousand - Family estates - Borough
+interest - Grand education - Let us hear - Already quarrelling - Honourable
+parents - Most heroically - Not common people - Fresh charcoal.<br>
+<br>
+It might be about ten o&rsquo;clock at night.&nbsp; Belle, the postilion,
+and myself, sat just within the tent, by a fire of charcoal which I
+had kindled in the chafing-pan.&nbsp; The man had removed the harness
+from his horses, and, after tethering their legs, had left them for
+the night in the field above to regale themselves on what grass they
+could find.&nbsp; The rain had long since entirely ceased, and the moon
+and stars shone bright in the firmament, up to which, putting aside
+the canvas, I occasionally looked from the depths of the dingle.&nbsp;
+Large drops of water, however, falling now and then upon the tent from
+the neighbouring trees, would have served, could we have forgotten it,
+to remind us of the recent storm, and also a certain chilliness in the
+atmosphere, unusual to the season, proceeding from the moisture with
+which the ground was saturated; yet these circumstances only served
+to make our party enjoy the charcoal fire the more.&nbsp; There we sat
+bending over it: Belle, with her long beautiful hair streaming over
+her magnificent shoulders; the postilion smoking his pipe, in his shirt-sleeves
+and waistcoat, having flung aside his greatcoat, which had sustained
+a thorough wetting; and I without my wagoner&rsquo;s slop, of which,
+it being in the same plight, I had also divested myself.<br>
+<br>
+The new-comer was a well-made fellow of about thirty, with an open and
+agreeable countenance.&nbsp; I found him very well informed for a man
+in his station, and with some pretensions to humour.&nbsp; After we
+had discoursed for some time on indifferent subjects, the postilion,
+who had exhausted his pipe, took it from his mouth, and, knocking out
+the ashes upon the ground, exclaimed, &lsquo;I little thought, when
+I got up in the morning, that I should spend the night in such agreeable
+company, and after such a fright.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I am glad that your opinion of us
+has improved; it is not long since you seemed to hold us in rather a
+suspicious light.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And no wonder,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;seeing the place you
+were taking me to!&nbsp; I was not a little, but very much afraid of
+ye both; and so I continued for some time, though, not to show a craven
+heart, I pretended to be quite satisfied; but I see I was altogether
+mistaken about ye.&nbsp; I thought you vagrant gypsy folks and trampers;
+but now - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Vagrant gypsy folks and trampers,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;and what
+are we but people of that stamp?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;if you wish to be thought
+such, I am far too civil a person to contradict you, especially after
+your kindness to me, but - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But!&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;what do you mean by but?&nbsp; I would
+have you to know that I am proud of being a travelling blacksmith; look
+at these donkey-shoes, I finished them this day.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+The postilion took the shoes and examined them.&nbsp; &lsquo;So you
+made these shoes?&rsquo; he cried at last.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;To be sure I did; do you doubt it?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not in the least,&rsquo; said the man.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah! ah!&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I thought I should bring you back
+to your original opinion.&nbsp; I am, then, a vagrant gypsy body, a
+tramper, a wandering blacksmith.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not a blacksmith, whatever else you may be,&rsquo; said the postilion,
+laughing.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then how do you account for my making those shoes?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By your not being a blacksmith,&rsquo; said the postilion; &lsquo;no
+blacksmith would have made shoes in that manner.&nbsp; Besides, what
+did you mean just now by saying you had finished these shoes to-day?&nbsp;
+A real blacksmith would have flung off three or four sets of donkey-shoes
+in one morning, but you, I will be sworn, have been hammering at these
+for days, and they do you credit - but why? - because you are no blacksmith;
+no, friend, your shoes may do for this young gentlewoman&rsquo;s animal,
+but I shouldn&rsquo;t like to have my horses shod by you, unless at
+a great pinch indeed.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Then,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;for what do you take me?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, for some runaway young gentleman,&rsquo; said the postilion.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;No offence, I hope?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;None at all; no one is offended at being taken or mistaken for
+a young gentleman, whether runaway or not; but from whence do you suppose
+I have run away?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Why, from college,&rsquo; said the man: &lsquo;no offence?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;None whatever; and what induced me to run away from college?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;A love affair, I&rsquo;ll be sworn,&rsquo; said the postilion.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;You had become acquainted with this young gentlewoman, so she
+and you - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Mind how you get on, friend,&rsquo; said Belle, in a deep serious
+tone.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pray proceed,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I daresay you mean no offence.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;None in the world,&rsquo; said the postilion; &lsquo;all I was
+going to say was, that you agreed to run away together, you from college,
+and she from boarding-school.&nbsp; Well, there&rsquo;s nothing to be
+ashamed of in a matter like that, such things are done every day by
+young folks in high life.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Are you offended?&rsquo; said I to Belle.<br>
+<br>
+Belle made no answer; but, placing her elbows on her knees, buried her
+face in her hands.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;So we ran away together?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;to Gretna Green, though
+I can&rsquo;t say that I drove ye, though I have driven many a pair.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And from Gretna Green we came here?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I&rsquo;ll be bound you did,&rsquo; said the man, &lsquo;till
+you could arrange matters at home.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And the horse-shoes?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The donkey-shoes you mean,&rsquo; answered the postilion; &lsquo;why,
+I suppose you persuaded the blacksmith who married you to give you,
+before you left, a few lessons in his trade.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And we intend to stay here till we have arranged matters at home?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;till the old people
+are pacified, and they send you letters directed to the next post town,
+to be left till called for, beginning with &ldquo;Dear children,&rdquo;
+and enclosing you each a cheque for one hundred pounds, when you will
+leave this place, and go home in a coach like gentlefolks, to visit
+your governors; I should like nothing better than to have the driving
+of you: and then there will be a grand meeting of the two families,
+and after a few reproaches, the old people will agree to do something
+handsome for the poor thoughtless things; so you will have a genteel
+house taken for you, and an annuity allowed you.&nbsp; You won&rsquo;t
+get much the first year, five hundred at the most, in order that the
+old folks may let you feel that they are not altogether satisfied with
+you, and that you are yet entirely in their power; but the second, if
+you don&rsquo;t get a cool thousand, may I catch cold, especially should
+young madam here present a son and heir for the old people to fondle,
+destined one day to become sole heir of the two illustrious houses;
+and then all the grand folks in the neighbourhood, who have - bless
+their prudent hearts! - kept rather aloof from you till then, for fear
+you should want anything from them - I say all the carriage people in
+the neighbourhood, when they see how swimmingly matters are going on,
+will come in shoals to visit you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Really,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;you are getting on swimmingly.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;I was not a gentleman&rsquo;s
+servant nine years without learning the ways of gentry, and being able
+to know gentry when I see them.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And what do you say to all this?&rsquo; I demanded of Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Stop a moment,&rsquo; interposed the postilion, &lsquo;I have
+one more word to say:- and when you are surrounded by your comforts,
+keeping your nice little barouche and pair, your coachman and livery
+servant, and visited by all the carriage people in the neighbourhood
+- to say nothing of the time when you come to the family estates on
+the death of the old people - I shouldn&rsquo;t wonder if now and then
+you look back with longing and regret to the days when you lived in
+the damp dripping dingle, had no better equipage than a pony or donkey
+cart, and saw no better company than a tramper or gypsy, except once,
+when a poor postilion was glad to seat himself at your charcoal fire.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Pray,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;did you ever take lessons in elocution?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Not directly,&rsquo; said the postilion; &lsquo;but my old master,
+who was in Parliament, did, and so did his son, who was intended to
+be an orator.&nbsp; A great professor used to come and give them lessons,
+and I used to stand and listen, by which means I picked up a considerable
+quantity of what is called rhetoric.&nbsp; In what I last said, I was
+aiming at what I have heard him frequently endeavouring to teach my
+governors as a thing indispensably necessary in all oratory, a graceful
+pere - pere - peregrination.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Peroration, perhaps?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Just so,&rsquo; said the postilion; &lsquo;and now I&rsquo;m
+sure I am not mistaken about you; you have taken lessons yourself, at
+first hand, in the college vacations, and a promising pupil you were,
+I make no doubt.&nbsp; Well, your friends will be all the happier to
+get you back.&nbsp; Has your governor much borough interest?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I ask you once more,&rsquo; said I, addressing myself to Belle,
+&lsquo;what you think of the history which this good man has made for
+us?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;What should I think of it,&rsquo; said Belle, still keeping her
+face buried in her hands, &lsquo;but that it is mere nonsense?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Nonsense!&rsquo; said the postilion.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said the girl, &lsquo;and you know it.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;May my leg always ache, if I do,&rsquo; said the postilion, patting
+his leg with his hand; &lsquo;will you persuade me that this young man
+has never been at college?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have never been at college, but - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;but - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I have been to the best schools in Britain, to say nothing of
+a celebrated one in Ireland.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well, then, it comes to the same thing,&rsquo; said the postilion,
+&lsquo;or perhaps you know more than if you had been at college - and
+your governor - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My governor, as you call him,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;is dead.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And his borough interest?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My father had no borough interest,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;had
+he possessed any, he would perhaps not have died, as he did, honourably
+poor.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No, no,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;if he had had borough
+interest, he wouldn&rsquo;t have been poor, nor honourable, though perhaps
+a right honourable.&nbsp; However, with your grand education and genteel
+manners, you made all right at last by persuading this noble young gentlewoman
+to run away from boarding-school with you.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was never at boarding-school,&rsquo; said Belle, &lsquo;unless
+you call - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;boarding-school is
+vulgar, I know: I beg your pardon, I ought to have called it academy,
+or by some other much finer name - you were in something much greater
+than a boarding-school.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There you are right,&rsquo; said Belle, lifting up her head and
+looking the postilion full in the face by the light of the charcoal
+fire, &lsquo;for I was bred in the workhouse.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Wooh!&rsquo; said the postilion.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;It is true that I am of good - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ay, ay,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;let us hear - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Of good blood,&rsquo; continued Belle; &lsquo;my name is Berners,
+Isopel Berners, though my parents were unfortunate.&nbsp; Indeed, with
+respect to blood, I believe I am of better blood than the young man.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;There you are mistaken,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;by my father&rsquo;s
+side I am of Cornish blood, and by my mother&rsquo;s of brave French
+Protestant extraction.&nbsp; Now, with respect to the blood of my father
+- and to be descended well on the father&rsquo;s side is the principal
+thing - it is the best blood in the world, for the Cornish blood, as
+the proverb says - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t care what the proverb says,&rsquo; said Belle;
+&lsquo;I say my blood is the best - my name is Berners, Isopel Berners
+- it was my mother&rsquo;s name, and is better, I am sure, than any
+you bear, whatever that may be; and though you say that the descent
+on the fathers side is the principal thing - and I know why you say
+so,&rsquo; she added with some excitement - &lsquo;I say that descent
+on the mother&rsquo;s side is of most account, because the mother -
+&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Just come from Gretna Green, and already quarrelling!&rsquo;
+said the postilion.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We do not come from Gretna Green,&rsquo; said Belle.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah, I had forgot,&rsquo; said the postilion; &lsquo;none but
+great people go to Gretna Green.&nbsp; Well, then, from church, and
+already quarrelling about family, just like two great people.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We have never been to church,&rsquo; said Belle; &lsquo;and to
+prevent any more guessing on your part, it will be as well for me to
+tell you, friend, that I am nothing to the young man, and he, of course,
+nothing to me.&nbsp; I am a poor travelling girl, born in a workhouse:
+journeying on my occasions with certain companions, I came to this hollow,
+where my company quarrelled with the young man, who had settled down
+here, as he had a right to do if he pleased; and not being able to drive
+him out, they went away after quarrelling with me, too, for not choosing
+to side with them; so I stayed here along with the young man, there
+being room for us both, and the place being as free to me as to him.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And in order that you may be no longer puzzled with respect to
+myself,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I will give you a brief outline of my
+history.&nbsp; I am the son of honourable parents, who gave me a first-rate
+education, as far as literature and languages went, with which education
+I endeavoured, on the death of my father, to advance myself to wealth
+and reputation in the big city; but failing in the attempt, I conceived
+a disgust for the busy world, and determined to retire from it.&nbsp;
+After wandering about for some time, and meeting with various adventures,
+in one of which I contrived to obtain a pony, cart, and certain tools
+used by smiths and tinkers, I came to this place, where I amused myself
+with making horse-shoes, or rather pony-shoes, having acquired the art
+of wielding the hammer and tongs from a strange kind of smith - not
+him of Gretna Green - whom I knew in my childhood.&nbsp; And here I
+lived, doing harm to no one, quite lonely and solitary, till one fine
+morning the premises were visited by this young gentlewoman and her
+companions.&nbsp; She did herself anything but justice when she said
+that her companions quarrelled with her because she would not side with
+them against me; they quarrelled with her because she came most heroically
+to my assistance as I was on the point of being murdered; and she forgot
+to tell you that, after they had abandoned her, she stood by me in the
+- dark hour, comforting and cheering me, when unspeakable dread, to
+which I am occasionally subject, took possession of my mind.&nbsp; She
+says she is nothing to me, even as I am nothing to her.&nbsp; I am of
+course nothing to her, but she is mistaken in thinking she is nothing
+to me.&nbsp; I entertain the highest regard and admiration for her,
+being convinced that I might search the whole world in vain for a nature
+more heroic and devoted.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And for my part,&rsquo; said Belle, with a sob, &lsquo;a more
+quiet agreeable partner in a place like this I would not wish to have;
+it is true he has strange ways, and frequently puts words into my mouth
+very difficult to utter, but - but - &rsquo; and here she buried her
+face once more in her hands.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;I have been mistaken
+about you; that is, not altogether, but in part.&nbsp; You are not rich
+folks, it seems, but you are not common people, and that I could have
+sworn.&nbsp; What I call a shame is, that some people I have known are
+not in your place and you in theirs, you with their estates and borough
+interest, they in this dingle with these carts and animals; but there
+is no help for these things.&nbsp; Were I the great Mumbo Jumbo above,
+I would endeavour to manage matters better; but being a simple postilion,
+glad to earn three shillings a day, I can&rsquo;t be expected to do
+much.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Who is Mumbo Jumbo?&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Ah!&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;I see there may be a thing
+or two I know better than yourself.&nbsp; Mumbo Jumbo is a god of the
+black coast, to which people go for ivory and gold.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Were you ever there?&rsquo; I demanded.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;but I heard plenty of Mumbo
+Jumbo when I was a boy.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I wish you would tell us something about yourself.&nbsp; I believe
+that your own real history would prove quite as entertaining, if not
+more, than that which you imagined about us.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am rather tired,&rsquo; said the postilion, &lsquo;and my leg
+is rather troublesome.&nbsp; I should be glad to try to sleep upon one
+of your blankets.&nbsp; However, as you wish to hear something about
+me, I shall be happy to oblige you; but your fire is rather low, and
+this place is chilly.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon I arose, and put fresh charcoal on the pan; then taking it
+outside the tent, with a kind of fan which I had fashioned, I fanned
+the coals into a red glow, and continued doing so until the greater
+part of the noxious gas, which the coals are in the habit of exhaling,
+was exhausted.&nbsp; I then brought it into the tent and reseated myself,
+scattering over the coals a small portion of sugar.&nbsp; &lsquo;No
+bad smell,&rsquo; said the postilion; &lsquo;but upon the whole I think
+I like the smell of tobacco better; and with your permission I will
+once more light my pipe.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+Thereupon he relighted his pipe; and, after taking two or three whiffs,
+began in the following manner.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XCVIII<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+An exordium - Fine ships - High Barbary captains - Free-born Englishmen
+- Monstrous figure - Swashbuckler - The grand coaches - The footmen
+- A travelling expedition - Black Jack - Nelson&rsquo;s cannon - Pharaoh&rsquo;s
+butler - A diligence - Two passengers - Sharking priest - Virgilio -
+Lessons in Italian - Two opinions - Holy Mary - Priestly confederates
+- Methodist chapel - Veturini - Some of our party - Like a sepulchre
+- All for themselves.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I am a poor postilion, as you see; yet, as I have seen a thing
+or two and heard a thing or two of what is going on in the world, perhaps
+what I have to tell you connected with myself may not prove altogether
+uninteresting.&nbsp; Now, my friends, this manner of opening a story
+is what the man who taught rhetoric would call a hex - hex - &rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Exordium,&rsquo; said I.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Just so,&rsquo; said the postilion; &lsquo;I treated you to a
+per - per - peroration some time ago, so that I have contrived to put
+the cart before the horse, as the Irish orators frequently do in the
+honourable House, in whose speeches, especially those who have taken
+lessons in rhetoric, the per - per - what&rsquo;s the word? - frequently
+goes before the exordium.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I was born in the neighbouring county; my father was land-steward
+to a squire of about a thousand a year.&nbsp; My father had two sons,
+of whom I am the youngest by some years.&nbsp; My elder brother was
+of a spirited roving disposition, and for fear that he should turn out
+what is generally termed ungain, my father determined to send him to
+sea: so once upon a time, when my brother was about fifteen, he took
+him to the great seaport of the county, where he apprenticed him to
+a captain of one of the ships which trade to the high Barbary coast.&nbsp;
+Fine ships they were, I have heard say, more than thirty in number,
+and all belonging to a wonderful great gentleman, who had once been
+a parish boy, but had contrived to make an immense fortune by trading
+to that coast for gold-dust, ivory, and other strange articles; and
+for doing so, I mean for making a fortune, had been made a knight baronet.&nbsp;
+So my brother went to the high Barbary shore, on board the fine vessel,
+and in about a year returned and came to visit us; he repeated the voyage
+several times, always coming to see his parents on his return.&nbsp;
+Strange stories he used to tell us of what he had been witness to on
+the high Barbary coast, both off shore and on.&nbsp; He said that the
+fine vessel in which he sailed was nothing better than a painted hell;
+that the captain was a veritable fiend, whose grand delight was in tormenting
+his men, especially when they were sick, as they frequently were, there
+being always fever on the high Barbary coast; and that though the captain
+was occasionally sick himself, his being so made no difference, or rather
+it did make a difference, though for the worse, he being when sick always
+more inveterate and malignant than at other times.&nbsp; He said that
+once, when he himself was sick, his captain had pitched his face all
+over, which exploit was much applauded by the other high Barbary captains
+- all of whom, from what my brother said, appeared to be of much the
+same disposition as my brother&rsquo;s captain, taking wonderful delight
+in tormenting the crews, and doing all manner of terrible things.&nbsp;
+My brother frequently said that nothing whatever prevented him from
+running away from his ship, and never returning, but the hope he entertained
+of one day being captain himself, and able to torment people in his
+turn, which he solemnly vowed he would do, as a kind of compensation
+for what he himself had undergone.&nbsp; And if things were going on
+in a strange way off the high Barbary shore amongst those who came there
+to trade, they were going on in a way yet stranger with the people who
+lived upon it.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Oh the strange ways of the black men who lived on that shore,
+of which my brother used to tell us at home - selling their sons, daughters,
+and servants for slaves, and the prisoners taken in battle, to the Spanish
+captains, to be carried to Havannah, and when there, sold at a profit,
+the idea of which, my brother said, went to the hearts of our own captains,
+who used to say what a hard thing it was that free-born Englishmen could
+not have a hand in the traffic, seeing that it was forbidden by the
+laws of their country; talking fondly of the good old times when their
+forefathers used to carry slaves to Jamaica and Barbadoes, realising
+immense profit, besides the pleasure of hearing their shrieks on the
+voyage; and then the superstitions of the blacks, which my brother used
+to talk of; their sharks&rsquo; teeth, their wisps of fowls&rsquo; feathers,
+their half-baked pots full of burnt bones, of which they used to make
+what they called fetish, and bow down to, and ask favours of, and then,
+perhaps, abuse and strike, provided the senseless rubbish did not give
+them what they asked for; and then, above all, Mumbo Jumbo, the grand
+fetish master, who lived somewhere in the woods, and who used to come
+out every now and then with his fetish companions; a monstrous figure,
+all wound round with leaves and branches, so as to be quite indistinguishable,
+and, seating himself on the high seat in the villages, receive homage
+from the people, and also gifts and offerings, the most valuable of
+which were pretty damsels, and then betake himself back again, with
+his followers, into the woods.&nbsp; Oh the tales that my brother used
+to tell us of the high Barbary shore!&nbsp; Poor fellow! what became
+of him I can&rsquo;t say; the last time he came back from a voyage,
+he told us that his captain, as soon as he had brought his vessel to
+port and settled with his owner, drowned himself off the quay, in a
+fit of the horrors, which it seems high Barbary captains, after a certain
+number of years, are much subject to.&nbsp; After staying about a month
+with us, he went to sea again, with another captain; and, bad as the
+old one had been, it appears the new one was worse, for, unable to bear
+his treatment, my brother left his ship off the high Barbary shore,
+and ran away up the country.&nbsp; Some of his comrades, whom we afterwards
+saw, said that there were various reports about him on the shore; one
+that he had taken on with Mumbo Jumbo, and was serving him in his house
+in the woods, in the capacity of swashbuckler, or life-guardsman; another,
+that he was gone in quest of a mighty city in the heart of the negro
+country; another, that in swimming a stream he had been devoured by
+an alligator.&nbsp; Now, these two last reports were bad enough; the
+idea of their flesh and blood being bit asunder by a ravenous fish was
+sad enough to my poor parents; and not very comfortable was the thought
+of his sweltering over the hot sands in quest of the negro city; but
+the idea of their son, their eldest child, serving Mumbo Jumbo as swashbuckler
+was worst of all, and caused my poor parents to shed many a scalding
+tear.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I stayed at home with my parents until I was about eighteen,
+assisting my father in various ways.&nbsp; I then went to live at the
+Squire&rsquo;s, partly as groom, partly as footman.&nbsp; After living
+in the country some time, I attended the family in a trip of six weeks
+which they made to London.&nbsp; Whilst there, happening to have some
+words with an old ill-tempered coachman, who had been for a great many
+years in the family, my master advised me to leave, offering to recommend
+me to a family of his acquaintance who were in need of a footman.&nbsp;
+I was glad to accept his offer, and in a few days went to my new place.&nbsp;
+My new master was one of the great gentry, a baronet in Parliament,
+and possessed of an estate of about twenty thousand a year; his family
+consisted of his lady, a son, a fine young man just coming of age, and
+two very sweet amiable daughters.&nbsp; I liked this place much better
+than my first, there was so much more pleasant noise and bustle - so
+much more grand company, and so many more opportunities of improving
+myself.&nbsp; Oh, how I liked to see the grand coaches drive up to the
+door, with the grand company; and though, amidst that company, there
+were some who did not look very grand, there were others, and not a
+few, who did.&nbsp; Some of the ladies quite captivated me; there was
+the Marchioness of - in particular.&nbsp; This young lady puts me much
+in mind of her; it is true, the Marchioness, as I saw her then, was
+about fifteen years older than this young gentlewoman is now, and not
+so tall by some inches, but she had the very same hair, and much the
+same neck and shoulders - no offence, I hope?&nbsp; And then some of
+the young gentlemen, with their cool, haughty, care-for-nothing looks,
+struck me as being very fine fellows.&nbsp; There was one in particular,
+whom I frequently used to stare at, not altogether unlike some one I
+have seen hereabouts - he had a slight cast in his eye, and . . . but
+I won&rsquo;t enter into every particular.&nbsp; And then the footmen!&nbsp;
+Oh, how those footmen helped to improve me with their conversation.&nbsp;
+Many of them could converse much more glibly than their masters, and
+appeared to have much better taste.&nbsp; At any rate, they seldom approved
+of what their masters did.&nbsp; I remember being once with one in the
+gallery of the play-house, when something of Shakspeare&rsquo;s was
+being performed: some one in the first tier of boxes was applauding
+very loudly.&nbsp; &ldquo;That&rsquo;s my fool of a governor,&rdquo;
+said he; &ldquo;he is weak enough to like Shakspeare - I don&rsquo;t;
+- he&rsquo;s so confoundedly low, but he won&rsquo;t last long - going
+down.&nbsp; Shakspeare culminated&rdquo; - I think that was the word
+- &ldquo;culminated some time ago.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And then the professor of elocution, of whom my governors used
+to take lessons, and of which lessons I had my share, by listening behind
+the door; but for that professor of elocution I should not be able to
+round my periods - an expression of his - in the manner I do.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;After I had been three years at this place my mistress died.&nbsp;
+Her death, however, made no great alteration in my way of living, the
+family spending their winters in London, and their summers at their
+old seat in S- as before.&nbsp; At last, the young ladies, who had not
+yet got husbands, which was strange enough, seeing, as I told you before,
+they were very amiable, proposed to our governor a travelling expedition
+abroad.&nbsp; The old baronet consented, though young master was much
+against it, saying they would all be much better at home.&nbsp; As the
+girls persisted, however, he at last withdrew his opposition, and even
+promised to follow them as soon as his parliamentary duties would permit;
+for he was just got into Parliament, and, like most other young members,
+thought that nothing could be done in the House without him.&nbsp; So
+the old gentleman and the two young ladies set off, taking me with them,
+and a couple of ladies&rsquo; maids to wait upon them.&nbsp; First of
+all, we went to Paris, where we continued three months, the old baronet
+and the ladies going to see the various sights of the city and the neighbourhood,
+and I attending them.&nbsp; They soon got tired of sight-seeing, and
+of Paris too; and so did I.&nbsp; However, they still continued there,
+in order, I believe, that the young ladies might lay in a store of French
+finery.&nbsp; I should have passed my idle time at Paris, of which I
+had plenty after the sight-seeing was over, very unpleasantly, but for
+Black Jack.&nbsp; Eh! did you never hear of Black Jack?&nbsp; Ah! if
+you had ever been an English servant in Paris, you would have known
+Black Jack; not an English gentleman&rsquo;s servant who has been at
+Paris for this last ten years but knows Black Jack and his ordinary.&nbsp;
+A strange fellow he was - of what country no one could exactly say -
+for as for judging from speech, that was impossible, Jack speaking all
+languages equally ill.&nbsp; Some said he came direct from Satan&rsquo;s
+kitchen, and that when he gives up keeping ordinary, he will return
+there again, though the generally-received opinion at Paris was, that
+he was at one time butler to King Pharaoh; and that, after lying asleep
+for four thousand years in a place called the Kattycombs, he was awaked
+by the sound of Nelson&rsquo;s cannon at the battle of the Nile, and
+going to the shore, took on with the admiral, and became, in course
+of time, ship steward; and that after Nelson&rsquo;s death he was captured
+by the French, on board one of whose vessels he served in a somewhat
+similar capacity till the peace, when he came to Paris, and set up an
+ordinary for servants, sticking the name of Katcomb over the door, in
+allusion to the place where he had his long sleep.&nbsp; But, whatever
+his origin was, Jack kept his own counsel, and appeared to care nothing
+for what people said about him, or called him.&nbsp; Yes, I forgot,
+there was one name he would not be called, and that was &ldquo;Portuguese.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+I once saw Black Jack knock down a coachman, six foot high, who called
+him black-faced Portuguese.&nbsp; &ldquo;Any name but dat, you shab,&rdquo;
+said Black Jack, who was a little round fellow, of about five feet two;
+&ldquo;I would not stand to be called Portuguese by Nelson himself.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+Jack was rather fond of talking about Nelson, and hearing people talk
+about him, so that it is not improbable that he may have sailed with
+him; and with respect to his having been King Pharaoh&rsquo;s butler,
+all I have to say is, I am not disposed to give the downright lie to
+the report. Jack was always ready to do a kind turn to a poor servant
+out of place, and has often been known to assist such as were in prison,
+which charitable disposition he perhaps acquired from having lost a
+good place himself, having seen the inside of a prison, and known the
+want of a meal&rsquo;s victuals, all which trials King Pharaoh&rsquo;s
+butler underwent, so he may have been that butler; at any rate, I have
+known positive conclusions come to on no better premisses, if indeed
+as good.&nbsp; As for the story of his coming direct from Satan&rsquo;s
+kitchen, I place no confidence in it at all, as Black Jack had nothing
+of Satan about him but blackness, on which account he was called Black
+Jack.&nbsp; Nor am I disposed to give credit to a report that his hatred
+of the Portuguese arose from some ill treatment which he had once experienced
+when on shore, at Lisbon, from certain gentlewomen of the place, but
+rather conclude that it arose from an opinion he entertained that the
+Portuguese never paid their debts, one of the ambassadors of that nation,
+whose house he had served, having left Paris several thousand francs
+in his debt.&nbsp; This is all that I have to say about Black Jack,
+without whose funny jokes and good ordinary I should have passed my
+time in Paris in a very disconsolate manner.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;After we had been at Paris between two and three months, we left
+it in the direction of Italy, which country the family had a great desire
+to see.&nbsp; After travelling a great many days in a thing which, though
+called a diligence, did not exhibit much diligence, we came to a great
+big town, seated around a nasty salt-water bason, connected by a narrow
+passage with the sea.&nbsp; Here we were to embark; and so we did as
+soon as possible, glad enough to get away - at least I was, and so I
+make no doubt were the rest, for such a place for bad smells I never
+was in.&nbsp; It seems all the drains and sewers of the place run into
+that same salt bason, voiding into it all their impurities, which, not
+being able to escape into the sea in any considerable quantity, owing
+to the narrowness of the entrance, there accumulate, filling the whole
+atmosphere with these same outrageous scents, on which account the town
+is a famous lodging-house of the plague.&nbsp; The ship in which we
+embarked was bound for a place in Italy called Naples, where we were
+to stay some time.&nbsp; The voyage was rather a lazy one, the ship
+not being moved by steam; for at the time of which I am speaking, some
+five years ago, steam-ships were not so plentiful as now.&nbsp; There
+were only two passengers in the grand cabin, where my governor and his
+daughters were, an Italian lady and a priest.&nbsp; Of the lady I have
+not much to say; she appeared to be a quiet respectable person enough,
+and after our arrival at Naples I neither saw nor heard anything more
+of her; but of the priest I shall have a good deal to say in the sequel
+(that, by the bye, is a word I learnt from the professor of rhetoric),
+and it would have been well for our family had they never met him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;On the third day of the voyage the priest came to me, who was
+rather unwell with sea-sickness, which he, of course, felt nothing of
+- that kind of people being never affected like others.&nbsp; He was
+a finish-looking man of about forty-five, but had something strange
+in his eyes, which I have since thought denoted that all was not right
+in a certain place called the heart.&nbsp; After a few words of condolence,
+in a broken kind of English, he asked me various questions about our
+family; and I, won by his seeming kindness, told him all I knew about
+them - of which communicativeness I afterwards very much repented.&nbsp;
+As soon as he had got out of me all he desired, he left me; and I observed
+that during the rest of the voyage he was wonderfully attentive to our
+governor, and yet more to the young ladies.&nbsp; Both, however, kept
+him rather at a distance; the young ladies were reserved, and once or
+twice I heard our governor cursing him between his teeth for a sharking
+priest.&nbsp; The priest, however, was not disconcerted, and continued
+his attentions, which in a little time produced an effect, so that,
+by the time we landed at Naples, our great folks had conceived a kind
+of liking for the man, and when they took their leave invited him to
+visit them, which he promised to do.&nbsp; We hired a grand house or
+palace at Naples; it belonged to a poor kind of prince, who was glad
+enough to let it to our governor, and also his servants and carriages;
+and glad enough were the poor servants, for they got from us what they
+never got from the prince - plenty of meat and money; and glad enough,
+I make no doubt, were the horses for the provender we gave them; and
+I daresay the coaches were not sorry to be cleaned and furbished up.&nbsp;
+Well, we went out and came in; going to see the sights, and returning.&nbsp;
+Amongst other things we saw was the burning mountain, and the tomb of
+a certain sorcerer called Virgilio, who made witch rhymes, by which
+he could raise the dead.&nbsp; Plenty of people came to see us, both
+English and Italians, and amongst the rest the priest.&nbsp; He did
+not come amongst the first, but allowed us to settle and become a little
+quiet before he showed himself; and after a day or two he paid us another
+visit, then another, till at last his visits were daily.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I did not like that Jack Priest; so I kept my eye upon all his
+motions.&nbsp; Lord! how that Jack Priest did curry favour with our
+governor and the two young ladies; and he curried, and curried, till
+he had got himself into favour with the governor, and more especially
+with the two young ladies, of whom their father was doatingly fond.&nbsp;
+At last the ladies took lessons in Italian of the priest, a language
+in which he was said to be a grand proficient, and of which they had
+hitherto known but very little; and from that time his influence over
+them, and consequently over the old governor, increased, till the tables
+were turned, and he no longer curried favour with them, but they with
+him - yes, as true as my leg aches, the young ladies curried, and the
+old governor curried favour with that same priest; when he was with
+them, they seemed almost to hang on his lips, that is, the young ladies;
+and as for the old governor, he never contradicted him, and when the
+fellow was absent, which, by the bye, was not often, it was, &ldquo;Father
+so-and-so said this,&rdquo; and &ldquo;Father so-and-so said that&rdquo;;
+&ldquo;Father so-and-so thinks we should do so-and-so, or that we should
+not do so-and-so.&rdquo;&nbsp; I at first thought that he must have
+given them something, some philtre or the like, but one of the English
+maid-servants, who had a kind of respect for me, and who saw much more
+behind the scenes than I did, informed me that he was continually instilling
+strange notions into their heads, striving, by every possible method,
+to make them despise the religion of their own land, and take up that
+of the foreign country in which they were.&nbsp; And sure enough, in
+a little time, the girls had altogether left off going to an English
+chapel, and were continually visiting places of Italian worship.&nbsp;
+The old governor, it is true, still went to his church, but he appeared
+to be hesitating between two opinions; and once, when he was at dinner,
+he said to two or three English friends that, since he had become better
+acquainted with it, he had conceived a much more favourable opinion
+of the Catholic religion than he had previously entertained.&nbsp; In
+a word, the priest ruled the house, and everything was done according
+to his will and pleasure; by degrees he persuaded the young ladies to
+drop their English acquaintances, whose place he supplied with Italians,
+chiefly females.&nbsp; My poor old governor would not have had a person
+to speak to - for he never could learn the language - but for two or
+three Englishmen who used to come occasionally and take a bottle with
+him in a summer-house, whose company he could not be persuaded to resign,
+notwithstanding the entreaties of his daughters, instigated by the priest,
+whose grand endeavour seemed to be to render the minds of all three
+foolish, for his own ends.&nbsp; And if he was busy above stairs with
+the governor, there was another busy below with us poor English servants,
+a kind of subordinate priest, a low Italian; as he could speak no language
+but his own, he was continually jabbering to us in that, and by hearing
+him the maids and myself contrived to pick up a good deal of the language,
+so that we understood most that was said, and could speak it very fairly;
+and the themes of his jabber were the beauty and virtues of one whom
+he called Holy Mary, and the power and grandeur of one whom he called
+the Holy Father; and he told us that we should shortly have an opportunity
+of seeing the Holy Father, who could do anything he liked with Holy
+Mary: in the meantime we had plenty of opportunities of seeing Holy
+Mary, for in every church, chapel, and convent to which we were taken,
+there was an image of Holy Mary, who, if the images were dressed at
+all in her fashion, must have been very fond of short petticoats and
+tinsel, and who, if those said figures at all resembled her in face,
+could scarcely have been half as handsome as either of my two fellow-servants,
+not to speak of the young ladies.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Now it happened that one of the female servants was much taken
+with what she saw and heard, and gave herself up entirely to the will
+of the subordinate, who had quite as much dominion over her as his superior
+had over the ladies; the other maid, however, the one who had a kind
+of respect for me, was not so easily besotted; she used to laugh at
+what she saw, and at what the fellow told her, and from her I learnt
+that amongst other things intended by these priestly confederates was
+robbery; she said that the poor old governor had already been persuaded
+by his daughters to put more than a thousand pounds into the superior
+priest&rsquo;s hands for purposes of charity and religion, as was said,
+and that the subordinate one had already inveigled her fellow-servant
+out of every penny which she had saved from her wages, and had endeavoured
+likewise to obtain what money she herself had, but in vain.&nbsp; With
+respect to myself, the fellow shortly after made an attempt towards
+obtaining a hundred crowns, of which, by some means, he knew me to be
+in possession, telling me what a meritorious thing it was to give one&rsquo;s
+superfluities for the purposes of religion.&nbsp; &ldquo;That is true,&rdquo;
+said I, &ldquo;and if, after my return to my native country, I find
+I have anything which I don&rsquo;t want myself, I will employ it in
+helping to build a Methodist chapel.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;By the time that the three months were expired for which we had
+hired the palace of the needy Prince, the old governor began to talk
+of returning to England, at least of leaving Italy.&nbsp; I believe
+he had become frightened at the calls which were continually being made
+upon him for money; for after all, you know, if there is a sensitive
+part of a man&rsquo;s wearing apparel, it is his breeches pocket; but
+the young ladies could not think of leaving dear Italy and the dear
+priest; and then they had seen nothing of the country, they had only
+seen Naples; before leaving dear Italia they must see more of the country
+and the cities; above all, they must see a place which they called the
+Eternal City, or some similar nonsensical name; and they persisted so
+that the poor governor permitted them, as usual, to have their way;
+and it was decided what route they should take - that is, the priest
+was kind enough to decide for them, and was also kind enough to promise
+to go with them part of the route, as far as a place where there was
+a wonderful figure of Holy Mary, which the priest said it was highly
+necessary for them to see before visiting the Eternal City: so we left
+Naples in hired carriages, driven by fellows they call veturini, cheating,
+drunken dogs, I remember they were.&nbsp; Besides our own family there
+was the priest and his subordinate, and a couple of hired lackeys.&nbsp;
+We were several days upon the journey, travelling through a very wild
+country, which the ladies pretended to be delighted with, and which
+the governor cursed on account of the badness of the roads; and when
+we came to any particularly wild spot we used to stop, in order to enjoy
+the scenery, as the ladies said; and then we would spread a horse-cloth
+on the ground, and eat bread and cheese, and drink wine of the country.&nbsp;
+And some of the holes and corners in which we bivouacked, as the ladies
+called it, were something like this place where we are now, so that
+when I came down here it put me in mind of them.&nbsp; At last we arrived
+at the place where was the holy image.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We went to the house or chapel in which the holy image was kept
+- a frightful, ugly black figure of Holy Mary, dressed in her usual
+way; and after we had stared at the figure, and some of our party had
+bowed down to it, we were shown a great many things which were called
+holy relics, which consisted of thumb-nails, and fore-nails, and toe-nails,
+and hair, and teeth, and a feather or two, and a mighty thigh-bone,
+but whether of a man or a camel I can&rsquo;t say; all of which things,
+I was told, if properly touched and handled, had mighty power to cure
+all kinds of disorders.&nbsp; And as we went from the holy house we
+saw a man in a state of great excitement: he was foaming at the mouth,
+and cursing the holy image and all its household, because, after he
+had worshipped it and made offerings to it, and besought it to assist
+him in a game of chance which he was about to play, it had left him
+in the lurch, allowing him to lose all his money.&nbsp; And when I thought
+of all the rubbish I had seen, and the purposes which it was applied
+to, in conjunction with the rage of the losing gamester at the deaf
+and dumb image, I could not help comparing the whole with what my poor
+brother used to tell me of the superstitious practices of the blacks
+on the high Barbary shore, and their occasional rage and fury at the
+things they worshipped; and I said to myself, If all this here doesn&rsquo;t
+smell of fetish, may I smell fetid.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;At this place the priest left us, returning to Naples with his
+subordinate, on some particular business I suppose.&nbsp; It was, however,
+agreed that he should visit us at the Holy City.&nbsp; We did not go
+direct to the Holy City, but bent our course to two or three other cities
+which the family were desirous of seeing; but as nothing occurred to
+us in these places of any particular interest, I shall take the liberty
+of passing them by in silence.&nbsp; At length we arrived at the Eternal
+City: an immense city it was, looking as if it had stood for a long
+time, and would stand for a long time still; compared with it, London
+would look like a mere assemblage of bee-skeps; however, give me the
+bee-skeps with their merry hum and bustle, and life and honey, rather
+than that huge town, which looked like a sepulchre, where there was
+no life, no busy hum, no bees, but a scanty sallow population, intermixed
+with black priests, white priests, gray priests; and though I don&rsquo;t
+say there was no honey in the place, for I believe there was, I am ready
+to take my Bible oath that it was not made there, and that the priests
+kept it all for themselves.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XCIX<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+A cloister - Half English - New acquaintance - Mixed liquors - Turning
+Papist - Purposes of charity - Foreign religion - Melancholy - Elbowing
+and pushing - Outlandish sight - The figure - I don&rsquo;t care for
+you - Merry-andrews - One good - Religion of my country - Fellow of
+spirit - A dispute - The next morning - Female doll - Proper dignity
+- Fetish country.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The day after our arrival,&rsquo; continued the postilion, &lsquo;I
+was sent, under the guidance of a lackey of the place, with a letter,
+which the priest, when he left, had given us for a friend of his in
+the Eternal City.&nbsp; We went to a large house, and on ringing were
+admitted by a porter into a cloister, where I saw some ill-looking,
+shabby young fellows walking about, who spoke English to one another.&nbsp;
+To one of these the porter delivered the letter, and the young fellow,
+going away, presently returned and told me to follow him; he led me
+into a large room where, behind a table on which were various papers
+and a thing which they call, in that country, a crucifix, sat a man
+in a kind of priestly dress.&nbsp; The lad having opened the door for
+me, shut it behind me, and went away.&nbsp; The man behind the table
+was so engaged in reading the letter which I had brought, that at first
+he took no notice of me; he had red hair, a kind of half-English countenance,
+and was seemingly about five-and-thirty.&nbsp; After a little time he
+laid the letter down, appeared to consider a moment, and then opened
+his mouth with a strange laugh, not a loud laugh, for I heard nothing
+but a kind of hissing deep down the throat; all of a sudden, however,
+perceiving me, he gave a slight start, but, instantly recovering himself,
+he inquired in English concerning the health of the family, and where
+we lived: on my delivering him a card, he bade me inform my master and
+the ladies that in the course of the day he would do himself the honour
+of waiting upon them.&nbsp; He then arose and opened the door for me
+to depart.&nbsp; The man was perfectly civil and courteous, but I did
+not like that strange laugh of his after having read the letter.&nbsp;
+He was as good as his word, and that same day paid us a visit.&nbsp;
+It was now arranged that we should pass the winter in Rome - to my great
+annoyance, for I wished to return to my native land, being heartily
+tired of everything connected with Italy.&nbsp; I was not, however,
+without hope that our young master would shortly arrive, when I trusted
+that matters, as far as the family were concerned, would be put on a
+better footing.&nbsp; In a few days our new acquaintance, who, it seems,
+was a mongrel Englishman, had procured a house for our accommodation;
+it was large enough, but not near so pleasant as that we had at Naples,
+which was light and airy, with a large garden.&nbsp; This was a dark
+gloomy structure in a narrow street, with a frowning church beside it;
+it was not far from the place where our new friend lived, and its being
+so was probably the reason why he selected it.&nbsp; It was furnished
+partly with articles which we bought, and partly with those which we
+hired.&nbsp; We lived something in the same way as at Naples; but though
+I did not much like Naples, I yet liked it better than this place, which
+was so gloomy.&nbsp; Our new acquaintance made himself as agreeable
+as he could, conducting the ladies to churches and convents, and frequently
+passing the afternoon drinking with the governor, who was fond of a
+glass of brandy and water and a cigar, as the new acquaintance also
+was - no, I remember, he was fond of gin and water, and did not smoke.&nbsp;
+I don&rsquo;t think he had so much influence over the young ladies as
+the other priest, which was, perhaps, owing to his not being so good-looking;
+but I am sure he had more influence with the governor, owing, doubtless,
+to his bearing him company in drinking mixed liquors, which the other
+priest did not do.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;He was a strange fellow, that same new acquaintance of ours,
+and unlike all the priests I saw in that country, and I saw plenty of
+various nations; they were always upon their guard, and had their features
+and voice modulated; but this man was subject to fits of absence, during
+which he would frequently mutter to himself, then, though he was perfectly
+civil to everybody, as far as words went, I observed that he entertained
+a thorough contempt for most people, especially for those whom he was
+making dupes.&nbsp; I have observed him whilst drinking with our governor,
+when the old man&rsquo;s head was turned, look at him with an air which
+seemed to say, &ldquo;What a thundering old fool you are&rdquo;; and
+at our young ladies, when their backs were turned, with a glance which
+said distinctly enough, &ldquo;You precious pair of ninnyhammers&rdquo;;
+and then his laugh - he had two kinds of laughs - one which you could
+hear, and another which you could only see.&nbsp; I have seen him laugh
+at our governor and the young ladies, when their heads were turned away,
+but I heard no sound.&nbsp; My mother had a sandy cat, which sometimes
+used to open its mouth wide with a mew which nobody could hear, and
+the silent laugh of that red-haired priest used to put me wonderfully
+in mind of the silent mew of my mother&rsquo;s sandy-red cat.&nbsp;
+And then the other laugh, which you could hear; what a strange laugh
+that was, never loud, yes, I have heard it tolerably loud.&nbsp; He
+once passed near me, after having taken leave of a silly English fellow
+- a limping parson of the name of Platitude, who, they said, was thinking
+of turning Papist, and was much in his company; I was standing behind
+the pillar of a piazza, and as he passed he was laughing heartily.&nbsp;
+O he was a strange fellow, that same red-haired acquaintance of ours!<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;After we had been at Rome about six weeks our old friend the
+priest of Naples arrived, but without his subordinate, for whose services
+he now perhaps thought that he had no occasion.&nbsp; I believe he found
+matters in our family wearing almost as favourable an aspect as he could
+desire: with what he had previously taught them and shown them at Naples
+and elsewhere, and with what the red-haired confederate had taught them
+and shown them at Rome, the poor young ladies had become quite handmaids
+of superstition, so that they, especially the youngest, were prepared
+to bow down to anything, and kiss anything, however vile and ugly, provided
+a priest commanded them; and as for the old governor, what with the
+influence which his daughters exerted, and what with the ascendency
+which the red-haired man had obtained over him, he dared not say his
+purse, far less his soul, was his own.&nbsp; Only think of an Englishman
+not being master of his own purse!&nbsp; My acquaintance, the lady&rsquo;s
+maid, assured me that, to her certain knowledge, he had disbursed to
+the red-haired man, for purposes of charity, as it was said, at least
+one thousand pounds during the five weeks we had been at Rome.&nbsp;
+She also told me that things would shortly be brought to a conclusion
+- and so indeed they were, though in a different manner from what she
+and I and some other people imagined; that there was to be a grand festival,
+and a mass, at which we were to be present, after which the family were
+to be presented to the Holy Father, for so those two priestly sharks
+had managed it; and then . . . she said she was certain that the two
+ladies, and perhaps the old governor, would forsake the religion of
+their native land, taking up with that of these foreign regions, for
+so my fellow-servant expressed it, and that perhaps attempts might be
+made to induce us poor English servants to take up with the foreign
+religion, that is herself and me, for as for our fellow-servant, the
+other maid, she wanted no inducing, being disposed body and soul to
+go over to it.&nbsp; Whereupon I swore with an oath that nothing should
+induce me to take up with the foreign religion; and the poor maid, my
+fellow-servant, bursting into tears, said that for her part she would
+die sooner than have anything to do with it; thereupon we shook hands
+and agreed to stand by and countenance one another: and moreover, provided
+our governors were fools enough to go over to the religion of these
+here foreigners, we would not wait to be asked to do the like, but leave
+them at once, and make the best of our way home, even if we were forced
+to beg on the road.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;At last the day of the grand festival came, and we were all to
+go to the big church to hear the mass.&nbsp; Now it happened that for
+some time past I had been much afflicted with melancholy, especially
+when I got up of a morning, produced by the strange manner in which
+I saw things going on in our family; and to dispel it in some degree,
+I had been in the habit of taking a dram before breakfast.&nbsp; On
+the morning in question, feeling particularly low spirited when I thought
+of the foolish step our governor would probably take before evening,
+I took two drams before breakfast; and after breakfast, feeling my melancholy
+still continuing, I took another, which produced a slight effect upon
+my head, though I am convinced nobody observed it.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Away we drove to the big church; it was a dark misty day, I remember,
+and very cold, so that if anybody had noticed my being slightly in liquor,
+I could have excused myself by saying that I had merely taken a glass
+to fortify my constitution against the weather; and of one thing I am
+certain, which is, that such an excuse would have stood me in stead
+with our governor, who looked, I thought, as if he had taken one too;
+but I may be mistaken, and why should I notice him, seeing that he took
+no notice of me? so away we drove to the big church, to which all the
+population of the place appeared to be moving.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;On arriving there we dismounted, and the two priests, who were
+with us, led the family in, whilst I followed at a little distance,
+but quickly lost them amidst the throng of people.&nbsp; I made my way,
+however, though in what direction I knew not, except it was one in which
+everybody seemed striving, and by dint of elbowing and pushing I at
+last got to a place which looked like the aisle of a cathedral, where
+the people stood in two rows, a space between being kept open by certain
+strangely-dressed men who moved up and down with rods in their hands;
+all were looking to the upper end of this place or aisle; and at the
+upper end, separated from the people by palings like those of an altar,
+sat in magnificent-looking stalls, on the right and the left, various
+wonderful-looking individuals in scarlet dresses.&nbsp; At the farther
+end was what appeared to be an altar, on the left hand was a pulpit,
+and on the right a stall higher than any of the rest, where was a figure
+whom I could scarcely see.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I can&rsquo;t pretend to describe what I saw exactly, for my
+head, which was at first rather flurried, had become more so from the
+efforts which I had made to get through the crowd; also from certain
+singing, which proceeded from I know not where; and, above all, from
+the bursts of an organ, which were occasionally so loud that I thought
+the roof, which was painted with wondrous colours, would come toppling
+down on those below.&nbsp; So there stood I - a poor English servant
+- in that outlandish place, in the midst of that foreign crowd, looking
+at that outlandish sight, hearing those outlandish sounds, and occasionally
+glancing at our party, which, by this time, I distinguished at the opposite
+side to where I stood, but much nearer the place where the red figures
+sat.&nbsp; Yes, there stood our poor governor and the sweet young ladies,
+and I thought they never looked so handsome before; and close by them
+were the sharking priests, and not far from them was that idiotical
+parson Platitude, winking and grinning, and occasionally lifting up
+his hands as if in ecstasy at what he saw and heard, so that he drew
+upon himself the notice of the congregation.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And now an individual mounted the pulpit, and began to preach
+in a language which I did not understand, but which I believe to be
+Latin, addressing himself seemingly to the figure in the stall; and
+when he had ceased, there was more singing, more organ-playing, and
+then two men in robes brought forth two things which they held up; and
+then the people bowed their heads, and our poor governor bowed his head,
+and the sweet young ladies bowed their heads, and the sharking priests,
+whilst the idiotical parson Platitude tried to fling himself down; and
+then there were various evolutions withinside the pale, and the scarlet
+figures got up and sat down; and this kind of thing continued for some
+time.&nbsp; At length the figure which I had seen in the principal stall
+came forth and advanced towards the people; an awful figure he was,
+a huge old man with a sugar-loaf hat, with a sulphur-coloured dress,
+and holding a crook in his hand like that of a shepherd; and as he advanced
+the people fell on their knees, our poor old governor amongst them;
+the sweet young ladies, the sharking priests, the idiotical parson Platitude,
+all fell on their knees, and somebody or other tried to pull me on my
+knees; but by this time I had become outrageous; all that my poor brother
+used to tell me of the superstitions of the high Barbary shore rushed
+into my mind, and I thought they were acting them over here; above all,
+the idea that the sweet young ladies, to say nothing of my poor old
+governor, were, after the conclusion of all this mummery, going to deliver
+themselves up body and soul into the power of that horrid-looking old
+man, maddened me, and, rushing forward into the open space, I confronted
+the horrible-looking old figure with the sugar-loaf hat, the sulphur-coloured
+garments, and shepherd&rsquo;s crook, and shaking my fist at his nose,
+I bellowed out in English -<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care for you, old Mumbo Jumbo, though you
+have fetish!&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I can scarcely tell you what occurred for some time.&nbsp; I
+have a dim recollection that hands were laid upon me, and that I struck
+out violently left and right.&nbsp; On coming to myself, I was seated
+on a stone bench in a large room, something like a guard-room, in the
+custody of certain fellows dressed like Merry-andrews; they were bluff,
+good-looking, wholesome fellows, very different from the sallow Italians:
+they were looking at me attentively, and occasionally talking to each
+other in a language which sounded very like the cracking of walnuts
+in the mouth, very different from cooing Italian.&nbsp; At last one
+of them asked me in Italian what had ailed me, to which I replied, in
+an incoherent manner, something about Mumbo Jumbo; whereupon the fellow,
+one of the bluffest of the lot, a jovial rosy-faced rascal, lifted up
+his right hand, placing it in such a manner that the lips were between
+the fore-finger and thumb, then lifting up his right foot and drawing
+back his head, he sucked in his breath with a hissing sound, as if to
+imitate one drinking a hearty draught, and then slapped me on the shoulder,
+saying something which sounded like goot wine, goot companion, whereupon
+they all laughed, exclaiming, ya, ya, goot companion.&nbsp; And now
+hurried into the room our poor old governor, with the red-haired priest.&nbsp;
+The first asked what could have induced me to behave in such a manner
+in such a place, to which I replied that I was not going to bow down
+to Mumbo Jumbo, whatever other people might do.&nbsp; Whereupon my master
+said he believed I was mad, and the priest said he believed I was drunk;
+to which I answered that I was neither so mad nor drunk but I could
+distinguish how the wind lay.&nbsp; Whereupon they left me, and in a
+little time I was told by the bluff-looking Merry-andrews I was at liberty
+to depart.&nbsp; I believe the priest, in order to please my governor,
+interceded for me in high quarters.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But one good resulted from this affair; there was no presentation
+of our family to the Holy Father, for old Mumbo was so frightened by
+my outrageous looks that he was laid up for a week, as I was afterwards
+informed.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;I went home, and had scarcely been there half an hour when I
+was sent for by the governor, who again referred to the scene in church,
+said that he could not tolerate such scandalous behaviour, and that
+unless I promised to be more circumspect in future, he should be compelled
+to discharge me.&nbsp; I said that if he was scandalised at my behaviour
+in the church, I was more scandalised at all I saw going on in the family,
+which was governed by two rascally priests, who, not content with plundering
+him, appeared bent on hurrying the souls of us all to destruction; and
+that with respect to discharging me, he could do so that moment, as
+I wished to go.&nbsp; I believe his own reason told him that I was right,
+for he made no direct answer, but, after looking on the ground for some
+time, he told me to leave him.&nbsp; As he did not tell me to leave
+the house, I went to my room, intending to lie down for an hour or two;
+but scarcely was I there when the door opened, and in came the red-haired
+priest.&nbsp; He showed himself, as he always did, perfectly civil,
+asked me how I was, took a chair and sat down.&nbsp; After a hem or
+two he entered into a long conversation on the excellence of what he
+called the Catholic religion; told me that he hoped I would not set
+myself against the light, and likewise against my interest; for that
+the family were about to embrace the Catholic religion, and would make
+it worth my while to follow their example.&nbsp; I told him that the
+family might do what they pleased, but that I would never forsake the
+religion of my country for any consideration whatever; that I was nothing
+but a poor servant, but I was not to be bought by base gold.&nbsp; &ldquo;I
+admire your honourable feelings,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you shall have
+no gold; and as I see you are a fellow of spirit, and do not like being
+a servant, for which I commend you, I can promise you something better.&nbsp;
+I have a good deal of influence in this place, and if you will not set
+your face against the light, but embrace the Catholic religion, I will
+undertake to make your fortune.&nbsp; You remember those fine fellows
+to-day who took you into custody, they are the guards of his Holiness.&nbsp;
+I have no doubt that I have interest enough to procure your enrolment
+amongst them.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;What,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;become
+swashbuckler to Mumbo Jumbo up here!&nbsp; May I . . .&rdquo; - and
+here I swore - &ldquo;if I do.&nbsp; The mere possibility of one of
+their children being swashbuckler to Mumbo Jumbo on the high Barbary
+shore has always been a source of heart-breaking to my poor parents.&nbsp;
+What, then, would they not undergo, if they knew for certain that their
+other child was swashbuckler to Mumbo Jumbo up here?&rdquo;&nbsp; Thereupon
+he asked me, even as you did some time ago, what I meant by Mumbo Jumbo.&nbsp;
+And I told him all I had heard about the Mumbo Jumbo of the high Barbary
+shore; telling him that I had no doubt that the old fellow up here was
+his brother, or nearly related to him.&nbsp; The man with the red hair
+listened with the greatest attention to all I said, and when I had concluded,
+he got up, nodded to me, and moved to the door; ere he reached the door
+I saw his shoulders shaking, and as he closed it behind him I heard
+him distinctly laughing, to the tune of - he! he! he!<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But now matters began to mend.&nbsp; That same evening my young
+master unexpectedly arrived.&nbsp; I believe he soon perceived that
+something extraordinary had been going on in the family.&nbsp; He was
+for some time closeted with the governor, with whom, I believe, he had
+a dispute; for my fellow-servant, the lady&rsquo;s maid, informed me
+that she heard high words.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Rather late at night the young gentleman sent for me into his
+room, and asked me various questions with respect to what had been going
+on, and my behaviour in the church, of which he had heard something.&nbsp;
+I told him all I knew with respect to the intrigues of the two priests
+in the family, and gave him a circumstantial account of all that had
+occurred in the church; adding that, under similar circumstances, I
+was ready to play the same part over again.&nbsp; Instead of blaming
+me, he commended my behaviour, told me I was a fine fellow, and said
+he hoped that, if he wanted my assistance, I would stand by him: this
+I promised to do.&nbsp; Before I left him, he entreated me to inform
+him the very next time I saw the priests entering the house.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;The next morning, as I was in the courtyard, where I had placed
+myself to watch, I saw the two enter and make their way up a private
+stair to the young ladies&rsquo; apartment; they were attended by a
+man dressed something like a priest, who bore a large box; I instantly
+ran to relate what I had seen to my young master.&nbsp; I found him
+shaving.&nbsp; &ldquo;I will just finish what I am about,&rdquo; said
+he, &ldquo;and then wait upon these gentlemen.&rdquo;&nbsp; He finished
+what he was about with great deliberation; then taking a horsewhip,
+and bidding me follow him, he proceeded at once to the door of his sisters&rsquo;
+apartment: finding it fastened, he burst it open at once with his foot
+and entered, followed by myself.&nbsp; There we beheld the two unfortunate
+young ladies down on their knees before a large female doll, dressed
+up, as usual, in rags and tinsel; the two priests were standing near,
+one on either side, with their hands uplifted, whilst the fellow who
+brought the trumpery stood a little way down the private stair, the
+door of which stood open; without a moment&rsquo;s hesitation, my young
+master rushed forward, gave the image a cut or two with his horsewhip
+- then flying at the priests, he gave them a sound flogging, kicked
+them down the private stair, and spurned the man, box and image after
+them - then locking the door, he gave his sisters a fine sermon, in
+which he represented to them their folly in worshipping a silly wooden
+graven image, which, though it had eyes, could see not; though it had
+ears, could hear not; though it had hands, could not help itself; and
+though it had feet, could not move about unless it were carried.&nbsp;
+Oh, it was a fine sermon that my young master preached, and sorry I
+am that the Father of the Fetish, old Mumbo, did not hear it.&nbsp;
+The elder sister looked ashamed, but the youngest, who was very weak,
+did nothing but wring her hands, weep and bewail the injury which had
+been done to the dear image.&nbsp; The young man, however, without paying
+much regard to either of them, went to his father, with whom he had
+a long conversation, which terminated in the old governor giving orders
+for preparations to be made for the family&rsquo;s leaving Rome and
+returning to England.&nbsp; I believe that the old governor was glad
+of his son&rsquo;s arrival, and rejoiced at the idea of getting away
+from Italy, where he had been so plundered and imposed upon.&nbsp; The
+priests, however, made another attempt upon the poor young ladies.&nbsp;
+By the connivance of the female servant who was in their interest they
+found their way once more into their apartment, bringing with them the
+fetish image, whose body they partly stripped, exhibiting upon it certain
+sanguine marks which they had daubed upon it with red paint, but which
+they said were the result of the lashes which it had received from the
+horsewhip.&nbsp; The youngest girl believed all they said, and kissed
+and embraced the dear image; but the eldest, whose eyes had been opened
+by her brother, to whom she was much attached, behaved with proper dignity;
+for, going to the door, she called the female servant who had a respect
+for me, and in her presence reproached the two deceivers for their various
+impudent cheats, and especially for this their last attempt at imposition;
+adding that if they did not forthwith withdraw and rid her sister and
+herself of their presence, she would send word by her maid to her brother,
+who would presently take effectual means to expel them.&nbsp; They took
+the hint and departed, and we saw no more of them.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;At the end of three days we departed from Rome, but the maid
+whom the priests had cajoled remained behind, and it is probable that
+the youngest of our ladies would have done the same thing if she could
+have had her own will, for she was continually raving about her image,
+and saying she should wish to live with it in a convent; but we watched
+the poor thing, and got her on board ship.&nbsp; Oh, glad was I to leave
+that fetish country and old Mumbo behind me!<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER C<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Nothing but gloom - Sporting character - Gouty Tory - Servants&rsquo;
+Club - Politics - Reformado footman - Peroration - Good-night.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;We arrived in England, and went to our country seat, but the
+peace and tranquillity of the family had been marred, and I no longer
+found my place the pleasant one which it had formerly been; there was
+nothing but gloom in the house, for the youngest daughter exhibited
+signs of lunacy, and was obliged to be kept under confinement.&nbsp;
+The next season I attended my master, his son, and eldest daughter to
+London, as I had previously done.&nbsp; There I left them, for hearing
+that a young baronet, an acquaintance of the family, wanted a servant,
+I applied for the place, with the consent of my masters, both of whom
+gave me a strong recommendation; and, being approved of, I went to live
+with him.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;My new master was what is called a sporting character, very fond
+of the turf, upon which he was not very fortunate.&nbsp; He was frequently
+very much in want of money, and my wages were anything but regularly
+paid; nevertheless, I liked him very much, for he treated me more like
+a friend than a domestic, continually consulting me as to his affairs.&nbsp;
+At length he was brought nearly to his last shifts, by backing the favourite
+at the Derby, which favourite turned out a regular brute, being found
+nowhere at the rush.&nbsp; Whereupon, he and I had a solemn consultation
+over fourteen glasses of brandy and water, and as many cigars - I mean,
+between us - as to what was to be done.&nbsp; He wished to start a coach,
+in which event he was to be driver, and I guard.&nbsp; He was quite
+competent to drive a coach, being a first-rate whip, and I daresay I
+should have made a first-rate guard; but, to start a coach requires
+money, and we neither of us believed that anybody would trust us with
+vehicles and horses, so that idea was laid aside.&nbsp; We then debated
+as to whether or not he should go into the Church; but to go into the
+Church - at any rate to become a dean or bishop, which would have been
+our aim - it is necessary for a man to possess some education; and my
+master, although he had been at the best school in England, that is,
+the most expensive, and also at College, was almost totally illiterate,
+so we let the Church scheme follow that of the coach.&nbsp; At last,
+bethinking me that he was tolerably glib at the tongue, as most people
+are who are addicted to the turf, also a great master of slang; remembering
+also that he had a crabbed old uncle, who had some borough interest,
+I proposed that he should get into the House, promising in one fortnight
+to qualify him to make a figure in it, by certain lessons which I would
+give him.&nbsp; He consented; and during the next fortnight I did little
+else than give him lessons in elocution, following to a tittle the method
+of the great professor, which I had picked up, listening behind the
+door.&nbsp; At the end of that period we paid a visit to his relation,
+an old gouty Tory, who at first received us very coolly.&nbsp; My master,
+however, by flattering a predilection of his for Billy Pitt, soon won
+his affections so much that he promised to bring him into Parliament;
+and in less than a month was as good as his word.&nbsp; My master, partly
+by his own qualifications, and partly by the assistance which he had
+derived, and still occasionally derived, from me, cut a wonderful figure
+in the House, and was speedily considered one of the most promising
+speakers; he was always a good hand at promising - he is at present,
+I believe, a Cabinet minister.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;But as he got up in the world he began to look down on me.&nbsp;
+I believe he was ashamed of the obligation under which he lay to me;
+and at last, requiring no further hints as to oratory from a poor servant
+like me, he took an opportunity of quarrelling with me and discharging
+me.&nbsp; However, as he had still some grace, he recommended me to
+a gentleman with whom, since he had attached himself to politics, he
+had formed an acquaintance, the editor of a grand Tory Review.&nbsp;
+I lost caste terribly amongst the servants for entering the service
+of a person connected with a profession so mean as literature; and it
+was proposed at the Servants&rsquo; Club, in Park Lane, to eject me
+from that society.&nbsp; The proposition, however, was not carried into
+effect, and I was permitted to show myself among them, though few condescended
+to take much notice of me.&nbsp; My master was one of the best men in
+the world, but also one of the most sensitive.&nbsp; On his veracity
+being impugned by the editor of a newspaper, he called him out, and
+shot him through the arm.&nbsp; Though servants are seldom admirers
+of their masters, I was a great admirer of mine, and eager to follow
+his example.&nbsp; The day after the encounter, on my veracity being
+impugned by the servant of Lord C- in something I said in praise of
+my master, I determined to call him out; so I went into another room
+and wrote a challenge.&nbsp; But whom should I send it by?&nbsp; Several
+servants to whom I applied refused to be the bearers of it; they said
+I had lost caste, and they could not think of going out with me.&nbsp;
+At length the servant of the Duke of B- consented to take it; but he
+made me to understand that, though he went out with me, he did so merely
+because he despised the Whiggish principles of Lord C-&lsquo;s servant,
+and that if I thought he intended to associate with me I should be mistaken.&nbsp;
+Politics, I must tell you, at that time ran as high amongst the servants
+as the gentlemen, the servants, however, being almost invariably opposed
+to the politics of their respective masters, though both parties agreed
+in one point, the scouting of everything low and literary, though I
+think, of the two, the liberal or reform party were the most inveterate.&nbsp;
+So he took my challenge, which was accepted; we went out, Lord C-&rsquo;s
+servant being seconded by a reformado footman from the palace.&nbsp;
+We fired three times without effect; but this affair lost me my place;
+my master on hearing it forthwith discharged me; he was, as I have said
+before, very sensitive, and he said this duel of mine was a parody of
+his own.&nbsp; Being, however, one of the best men in the world, on
+his discharging me he made me a donation of twenty pounds.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;And it was well that he made me this present, for without it
+I should have been penniless, having contracted rather expensive habits
+during the time that I lived with the young baronet.&nbsp; I now determined
+to visit my parents, whom I had not seen for years.&nbsp; I found them
+in good health, and, after staying with them for two months, I returned
+again in the direction of town, walking, in order to see the country.&nbsp;
+On the second day of my journey, not being used to such fatigue, I fell
+ill at a great inn on the north road, and there I continued for some
+weeks till I recovered, but by that time my money was entirely spent.&nbsp;
+By living at the inn I had contracted an acquaintance with the master
+and the people, and become accustomed to inn life.&nbsp; As I thought
+that I might find some difficulty in procuring any desirable situation
+in London, owing to my late connection with literature, I determined
+to remain where I was, provided my services would be accepted.&nbsp;
+I offered them to the master, who, finding I knew something of horses,
+engaged me as a postilion.&nbsp; I have remained there since.&nbsp;
+You have now heard my story.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Stay, you shan&rsquo;t say that I told my tale without a per
+- peroration.&nbsp; What shall it be?&nbsp; Oh, I remember something
+which will serve for one.&nbsp; As I was driving my chaise some weeks
+ago, I saw standing at the gate of an avenue, which led up to an old
+mansion, a figure which I thought I recognised.&nbsp; I looked at it
+attentively, and the figure, as I passed, looked at me; whether it remembered
+me I do not know, but I recognised the face it showed me full well.<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;If it was not the identical face of the red-haired priest whom
+I had seen at Rome, may I catch cold!<br>
+<br>
+&lsquo;Young gentleman, I will now take a spell on your blanket - young
+lady, good-night.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LAVENGRO ***<br>
+<pre>
+
+******This file should be named lvgro10h.htm or lvgro10h.zip******
+Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, lvgro11h.htm
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, lvgro10ah.htm
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+http://gutenberg.net or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04
+
+Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+ 1 1971 July
+ 10 1991 January
+ 100 1994 January
+ 1000 1997 August
+ 1500 1998 October
+ 2000 1999 December
+ 2500 2000 December
+ 3000 2001 November
+ 4000 2001 October/November
+ 6000 2002 December*
+ 9000 2003 November*
+10000 2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+PMB 113
+1739 University Ave.
+Oxford, MS 38655-4109
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart hart@pobox.com
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this
+ requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+ eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however,
+ if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+ binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+ including any form resulting from conversion by word
+ processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+ *EITHER*:
+
+ [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+ does *not* contain characters other than those
+ intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+ (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+ be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+ author, and additional characters may be used to
+ indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+ [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+ no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+ form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+ the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+ OR
+
+ [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+ no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+ eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+ or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+ "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+ gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+ already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you
+ don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are
+ payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+ the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+ legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+ periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to
+ let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+</pre></body>
+</html>
diff --git a/old/lvgro10h.zip b/old/lvgro10h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..babe8cb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/lvgro10h.zip
Binary files differ