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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Lamplighter, by Charles Dickens
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
+the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Lamplighter
+
+
+Author: Charles Dickens
+
+
+
+Release Date: January 11, 2015 [eBook #927]
+[This file was first posted on May 30, 1997]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAMPLIGHTER***
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1905 Chapman & Hall edition (_The Works of Charles
+Dickens_, volume 28) by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+ [Picture: Book cover]
+
+
+
+
+
+ THE LAMPLIGHTER
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ By CHARLES DICKENS
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ LONDON: CHAPMAN & HALL, LD.
+ NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
+ 1905
+
+ * * * * *
+
+‘IF you talk of Murphy and Francis Moore, gentlemen,’ said the
+lamplighter who was in the chair, ‘I mean to say that neither of ’em ever
+had any more to do with the stars than Tom Grig had.’
+
+‘And what had _he_ to do with ’em?’ asked the lamplighter who officiated
+as vice.
+
+‘Nothing at all,’ replied the other; ‘just exactly nothing at all.’
+
+‘Do you mean to say you don’t believe in Murphy, then?’ demanded the
+lamplighter who had opened the discussion.
+
+‘I mean to say I believe in Tom Grig,’ replied the chairman. ‘Whether I
+believe in Murphy, or not, is a matter between me and my conscience; and
+whether Murphy believes in himself, or not, is a matter between him and
+his conscience. Gentlemen, I drink your healths.’
+
+The lamplighter who did the company this honour, was seated in the
+chimney-corner of a certain tavern, which has been, time out of mind, the
+Lamplighters’ House of Call. He sat in the midst of a circle of
+lamplighters, and was the cacique, or chief of the tribe.
+
+If any of our readers have had the good fortune to behold a lamplighter’s
+funeral, they will not be surprised to learn that lamplighters are a
+strange and primitive people; that they rigidly adhere to old ceremonies
+and customs which have been handed down among them from father to son
+since the first public lamp was lighted out of doors; that they
+intermarry, and betroth their children in infancy; that they enter into
+no plots or conspiracies (for who ever heard of a traitorous
+lamplighter?); that they commit no crimes against the laws of their
+country (there being no instance of a murderous or burglarious
+lamplighter); that they are, in short, notwithstanding their apparently
+volatile and restless character, a highly moral and reflective people:
+having among themselves as many traditional observances as the Jews, and
+being, as a body, if not as old as the hills, at least as old as the
+streets. It is an article of their creed that the first faint glimmering
+of true civilisation shone in the first street-light maintained at the
+public expense. They trace their existence and high position in the
+public esteem, in a direct line to the heathen mythology; and hold that
+the history of Prometheus himself is but a pleasant fable, whereof the
+true hero is a lamplighter.
+
+‘Gentlemen,’ said the lamplighter in the chair, ‘I drink your healths.’
+
+‘And perhaps, Sir,’ said the vice, holding up his glass, and rising a
+little way off his seat and sitting down again, in token that he
+recognised and returned the compliment, ‘perhaps you will add to that
+condescension by telling us who Tom Grig was, and how he came to be
+connected in your mind with Francis Moore, Physician.’
+
+‘Hear, hear, hear!’ cried the lamplighters generally.
+
+‘Tom Grig, gentlemen,’ said the chairman, ‘was one of us; and it happened
+to him, as it don’t often happen to a public character in our line, that
+he had his what-you-may-call-it cast.’
+
+‘His head?’ said the vice.
+
+‘No,’ replied the chairman, ‘not his head.’
+
+‘His face, perhaps?’ said the vice. ‘No, not his face.’ ‘His legs?’
+‘No, not his legs.’ Nor yet his arms, nor his hands, nor his feet, nor
+his chest, all of which were severally suggested.
+
+‘His nativity, perhaps?’
+
+‘That’s it,’ said the chairman, awakening from his thoughtful attitude at
+the suggestion. ‘His nativity. That’s what Tom had cast, gentlemen.’
+
+‘In plaster?’ asked the vice.
+
+‘I don’t rightly know how it’s done,’ returned the chairman. ‘But I
+suppose it was.’
+
+And there he stopped as if that were all he had to say; whereupon there
+arose a murmur among the company, which at length resolved itself into a
+request, conveyed through the vice, that he would go on. This being
+exactly what the chairman wanted, he mused for a little time, performed
+that agreeable ceremony which is popularly termed wetting one’s whistle,
+and went on thus:
+
+‘Tom Grig, gentlemen, was, as I have said, one of us; and I may go
+further, and say he was an ornament to us, and such a one as only the
+good old times of oil and cotton could have produced. Tom’s family,
+gentlemen, were all lamplighters.’
+
+‘Not the ladies, I hope?’ asked the vice.
+
+‘They had talent enough for it, Sir,’ rejoined the chairman, ‘and would
+have been, but for the prejudices of society. Let women have their
+rights, Sir, and the females of Tom’s family would have been every one of
+’em in office. But that emancipation hasn’t come yet, and hadn’t then,
+and consequently they confined themselves to the bosoms of their
+families, cooked the dinners, mended the clothes, minded the children,
+comforted their husbands, and attended to the house-keeping generally.
+It’s a hard thing upon the women, gentlemen, that they are limited to
+such a sphere of action as this; very hard.
+
+‘I happen to know all about Tom, gentlemen, from the circumstance of his
+uncle by his mother’s side, having been my particular friend. His
+(that’s Tom’s uncle’s) fate was a melancholy one. Gas was the death of
+him. When it was first talked of, he laughed. He wasn’t angry; he
+laughed at the credulity of human nature. “They might as well talk,” he
+says, “of laying on an everlasting succession of glow-worms;” and then he
+laughed again, partly at his joke, and partly at poor humanity.
+
+‘In course of time, however, the thing got ground, the experiment was
+made, and they lighted up Pall Mall. Tom’s uncle went to see it. I’ve
+heard that he fell off his ladder fourteen times that night, from
+weakness, and that he would certainly have gone on falling till he killed
+himself, if his last tumble hadn’t been into a wheelbarrow which was
+going his way, and humanely took him home. “I foresee in this,” says
+Tom’s uncle faintly, and taking to his bed as he spoke—“I foresee in
+this,” he says, “the breaking up of our profession. There’s no more
+going the rounds to trim by daylight, no more dribbling down of the oil
+on the hats and bonnets of ladies and gentlemen when one feels in
+spirits. Any low fellow can light a gas-lamp. And it’s all up.” In
+this state of mind, he petitioned the government for—I want a word again,
+gentlemen—what do you call that which they give to people when it’s found
+out, at last, that they’ve never been of any use, and have been paid too
+much for doing nothing?’
+
+‘Compensation?’ suggested the vice.
+
+‘That’s it,’ said the chairman. ‘Compensation. They didn’t give it him,
+though, and then he got very fond of his country all at once, and went
+about saying that gas was a death-blow to his native land, and that it
+was a plot of the radicals to ruin the country and destroy the oil and
+cotton trade for ever, and that the whales would go and kill themselves
+privately, out of sheer spite and vexation at not being caught. At last
+he got right-down cracked; called his tobacco-pipe a gas-pipe; thought
+his tears were lamp-oil; and went on with all manner of nonsense of that
+sort, till one night he hung himself on a lamp-iron in Saint Martin’s
+Lane, and there was an end of _him_.
+
+‘Tom loved him, gentlemen, but he survived it. He shed a tear over his
+grave, got very drunk, spoke a funeral oration that night in the
+watch-house, and was fined five shillings for it, in the morning. Some
+men are none the worse for this sort of thing. Tom was one of ’em. He
+went that very afternoon on a new beat: as clear in his head, and as free
+from fever as Father Mathew himself.
+
+‘Tom’s new beat, gentlemen, was—I can’t exactly say where, for that he’d
+never tell; but I know it was in a quiet part of town, where there were
+some queer old houses. I have always had it in my head that it must have
+been somewhere near Canonbury Tower in Islington, but that’s a matter of
+opinion. Wherever it was, he went upon it, with a bran-new ladder, a
+white hat, a brown holland jacket and trousers, a blue neck-kerchief, and
+a sprig of full-blown double wall-flower in his button-hole. Tom was
+always genteel in his appearance, and I have heard from the best judges,
+that if he had left his ladder at home that afternoon, you might have
+took him for a lord.
+
+‘He was always merry, was Tom, and such a singer, that if there was any
+encouragement for native talent, he’d have been at the opera. He was on
+his ladder, lighting his first lamp, and singing to himself in a manner
+more easily to be conceived than described, when he hears the clock
+strike five, and suddenly sees an old gentleman with a telescope in his
+hand, throw up a window and look at him very hard.
+
+‘Tom didn’t know what could be passing in this old gentleman’s mind. He
+thought it likely enough that he might be saying within himself, “Here’s
+a new lamplighter—a good-looking young fellow—shall I stand something to
+drink?” Thinking this possible, he keeps quite still, pretending to be
+very particular about the wick, and looks at the old gentleman sideways,
+seeming to take no notice of him.
+
+‘Gentlemen, he was one of the strangest and most mysterious-looking files
+that ever Tom clapped his eyes on. He was dressed all slovenly and
+untidy, in a great gown of a kind of bed-furniture pattern, with a cap of
+the same on his head; and a long old flapped waistcoat; with no braces,
+no strings, very few buttons—in short, with hardly any of those
+artificial contrivances that hold society together. Tom knew by these
+signs, and by his not being shaved, and by his not being over-clean, and
+by a sort of wisdom not quite awake, in his face, that he was a
+scientific old gentleman. He often told me that if he could have
+conceived the possibility of the whole Royal Society being boiled down
+into one man, he should have said the old gentleman’s body was that Body.
+
+‘The old gentleman claps the telescope to his eye, looks all round, sees
+nobody else in sight, stares at Tom again, and cries out very loud:
+
+‘“Hal-loa!”
+
+‘“Halloa, Sir,” says Tom from the ladder; “and halloa again, if you come
+to that.”
+
+‘“Here’s an extraordinary fulfilment,” says the old gentleman, “of a
+prediction of the planets.”
+
+‘“Is there?” says Tom. “I’m very glad to hear it.”
+
+‘“Young man,” says the old gentleman, “you don’t know me.”
+
+‘“Sir,” says Tom, “I have not that honour; but I shall be happy to drink
+your health, notwithstanding.”
+
+‘“I read,” cries the old gentleman, without taking any notice of this
+politeness on Tom’s part—“I read what’s going to happen, in the stars.”
+
+‘Tom thanked him for the information, and begged to know if anything
+particular was going to happen in the stars, in the course of a week or
+so; but the old gentleman, correcting him, explained that he read in the
+stars what was going to happen on dry land, and that he was acquainted
+with all the celestial bodies.
+
+‘“I hope they’re all well, Sir,” says Tom,—“everybody.”
+
+‘“Hush!” cries the old gentleman. “I have consulted the book of Fate
+with rare and wonderful success. I am versed in the great sciences of
+astrology and astronomy. In my house here, I have every description of
+apparatus for observing the course and motion of the planets. Six months
+ago, I derived from this source, the knowledge that precisely as the
+clock struck five this afternoon a stranger would present himself—the
+destined husband of my young and lovely niece—in reality of illustrious
+and high descent, but whose birth would be enveloped in uncertainty and
+mystery. Don’t tell me yours isn’t,” says the old gentleman, who was in
+such a hurry to speak that he couldn’t get the words out fast enough,
+“for I know better.”
+
+‘Gentlemen, Tom was so astonished when he heard him say this, that he
+could hardly keep his footing on the ladder, and found it necessary to
+hold on by the lamp-post. There _was_ a mystery about his birth. His
+mother had always admitted it. Tom had never known who was his father,
+and some people had gone so far as to say that even _she_ was in doubt.
+
+‘While he was in this state of amazement, the old gentleman leaves the
+window, bursts out of the house-door, shakes the ladder, and Tom, like a
+ripe pumpkin, comes sliding down into his arms.
+
+‘“Let me embrace you,” he says, folding his arms about him, and nearly
+lighting up his old bed-furniture gown at Tom’s link. “You’re a man of
+noble aspect. Everything combines to prove the accuracy of my
+observations. You have had mysterious promptings within you,” he says;
+“I know you have had whisperings of greatness, eh?” he says.
+
+‘“I think I have,” says Tom—Tom was one of those who can persuade
+themselves to anything they like—“I’ve often thought I wasn’t the small
+beer I was taken for.”
+
+‘“You were right,” cries the old gentleman, hugging him again. “Come in.
+My niece awaits us.”
+
+‘“Is the young lady tolerable good-looking, Sir?” says Tom, hanging fire
+rather, as he thought of her playing the piano, and knowing French, and
+being up to all manner of accomplishments.
+
+‘“She’s beautiful!” cries the old gentleman, who was in such a terrible
+bustle that he was all in a perspiration. “She has a graceful carriage,
+an exquisite shape, a sweet voice, a countenance beaming with animation
+and expression; and the eye,” he says, rubbing his hands, “of a startled
+fawn.”
+
+‘Tom supposed this might mean, what was called among his circle of
+acquaintance, “a game eye;” and, with a view to this defect, inquired
+whether the young lady had any cash.
+
+‘“She has five thousand pounds,” cries the old gentleman. “But what of
+that? what of that? A word in your ear. I’m in search of the
+philosopher’s stone. I have very nearly found it—not quite. It turns
+everything to gold; that’s its property.”
+
+‘Tom naturally thought it must have a deal of property; and said that
+when the old gentleman did get it, he hoped he’d be careful to keep it in
+the family.
+
+‘“Certainly,” he says, “of course. Five thousand pounds! What’s five
+thousand pounds to us? What’s five million?” he says. “What’s five
+thousand million? Money will be nothing to us. We shall never be able
+to spend it fast enough.”
+
+‘“We’ll try what we can do, Sir,” says Tom.
+
+‘“We will,” says the old gentleman. “Your name?”
+
+‘“Grig,” says Tom.
+
+‘The old gentleman embraced him again, very tight; and without speaking
+another word, dragged him into the house in such an excited manner, that
+it was as much as Tom could do to take his link and ladder with him, and
+put them down in the passage.
+
+‘Gentlemen, if Tom hadn’t been always remarkable for his love of truth, I
+think you would still have believed him when he said that all this was
+like a dream. There is no better way for a man to find out whether he is
+really asleep or awake, than calling for something to eat. If he’s in a
+dream, gentlemen, he’ll find something wanting in flavour, depend upon
+it.
+
+‘Tom explained his doubts to the old gentleman, and said that if there
+was any cold meat in the house, it would ease his mind very much to test
+himself at once. The old gentleman ordered up a venison pie, a small
+ham, and a bottle of very old Madeira. At the first mouthful of pie and
+the first glass of wine, Tom smacks his lips and cries out, “I’m
+awake—wide awake;” and to prove that he was so, gentlemen, he made an end
+of ’em both.
+
+‘When Tom had finished his meal (which he never spoke of afterwards
+without tears in his eyes), the old gentleman hugs him again, and says,
+“Noble stranger! let us visit my young and lovely niece.” Tom, who was a
+little elevated with the wine, replies, “The noble stranger is
+agreeable!” At which words the old gentleman took him by the hand, and
+led him to the parlour; crying as he opened the door, “Here is Mr. Grig,
+the favourite of the planets!”
+
+‘I will not attempt a description of female beauty, gentlemen, for every
+one of us has a model of his own that suits his own taste best. In this
+parlour that I’m speaking of, there were two young ladies; and if every
+gentleman present, will imagine two models of his own in their places,
+and will be kind enough to polish ’em up to the very highest pitch of
+perfection, he will then have a faint conception of their uncommon
+radiance.
+
+‘Besides these two young ladies, there was their waiting-woman, that
+under any other circumstances Tom would have looked upon as a Venus; and
+besides her, there was a tall, thin, dismal-faced young gentleman, half
+man and half boy, dressed in a childish suit of clothes very much too
+short in the legs and arms; and looking, according to Tom’s comparison,
+like one of the wax juveniles from a tailor’s door, grown up and run to
+seed. Now, this youngster stamped his foot upon the ground and looked
+very fierce at Tom, and Tom looked fierce at him—for to tell the truth,
+gentlemen, Tom more than half suspected that when they entered the room
+he was kissing one of the young ladies; and for anything Tom knew, you
+observe, it might be _his_ young lady—which was not pleasant.
+
+‘“Sir,” says Tom, “before we proceed any further, will you have the
+goodness to inform me who this young Salamander”—Tom called him that for
+aggravation, you perceive, gentlemen—“who this young Salamander may be?”
+
+‘“That, Mr. Grig,” says the old gentleman, “is my little boy. He was
+christened Galileo Isaac Newton Flamstead. Don’t mind him. He’s a mere
+child.”
+
+‘“And a very fine child too,” says Tom—still aggravating, you’ll
+observe—“of his age, and as good as fine, I have no doubt. How do you
+do, my man?” with which kind and patronising expressions, Tom reached up
+to pat him on the head, and quoted two lines about little boys, from
+Doctor Watts’s Hymns, which he had learnt at a Sunday School.
+
+‘It was very easy to see, gentlemen, by this youngster’s frowning and by
+the waiting-maid’s tossing her head and turning up her nose, and by the
+young ladies turning their backs and talking together at the other end of
+the room, that nobody but the old gentleman took very kindly to the noble
+stranger. Indeed, Tom plainly heard the waiting-woman say of her master,
+that so far from being able to read the stars as he pretended, she didn’t
+believe he knew his letters in ’em, or at best that he had got further
+than words in one syllable; but Tom, not minding this (for he was in
+spirits after the Madeira), looks with an agreeable air towards the young
+ladies, and, kissing his hand to both, says to the old gentleman, “Which
+is which?”
+
+‘“This,” says the old gentleman, leading out the handsomest, if one of
+’em could possibly be said to be handsomer than the other—“this is my
+niece, Miss Fanny Barker.”
+
+‘“If you’ll permit me, Miss,” says Tom, “being a noble stranger and a
+favourite of the planets, I will conduct myself as such.” With these
+words, he kisses the young lady in a very affable way, turns to the old
+gentleman, slaps him on the back, and says, “When’s it to come off, my
+buck?”
+
+‘The young lady coloured so deep, and her lip trembled so much,
+gentlemen, that Tom really thought she was going to cry. But she kept
+her feelings down, and turning to the old gentleman, says, “Dear uncle,
+though you have the absolute disposal of my hand and fortune, and though
+you mean well in disposing of ’em thus, I ask you whether you don’t think
+this is a mistake? Don’t you think, dear uncle,” she says, “that the
+stars must be in error? Is it not possible that the comet may have put
+’em out?”
+
+‘“The stars,” says the old gentleman, “couldn’t make a mistake if they
+tried. Emma,” he says to the other young lady.
+
+‘“Yes, papa,” says she.
+
+‘“The same day that makes your cousin Mrs. Grig will unite you to the
+gifted Mooney. No remonstrance—no tears. Now, Mr. Grig, let me conduct
+you to that hallowed ground, that philosophical retreat, where my friend
+and partner, the gifted Mooney of whom I have just now spoken, is even
+now pursuing those discoveries which shall enrich us with the precious
+metal, and make us masters of the world. Come, Mr. Grig,” he says.
+
+‘“With all my heart, Sir,” replies Tom; “and luck to the gifted Mooney,
+say I—not so much on his account as for our worthy selves!” With this
+sentiment, Tom kissed his hand to the ladies again, and followed him out;
+having the gratification to perceive, as he looked back, that they were
+all hanging on by the arms and legs of Galileo Isaac Newton Flamstead, to
+prevent him from following the noble stranger, and tearing him to pieces.
+
+‘Gentlemen, Tom’s father-in-law that was to be, took him by the hand, and
+having lighted a little lamp, led him across a paved court-yard at the
+back of the house, into a very large, dark, gloomy room: filled with all
+manner of bottles, globes, books, telescopes, crocodiles, alligators, and
+other scientific instruments of every kind. In the centre of this room
+was a stove or furnace, with what Tom called a pot, but which in my
+opinion was a crucible, in full boil. In one corner was a sort of ladder
+leading through the roof; and up this ladder the old gentleman pointed,
+as he said in a whisper:
+
+‘“The observatory. Mr. Mooney is even now watching for the precise time
+at which we are to come into all the riches of the earth. It will be
+necessary for he and I, alone in that silent place, to cast your nativity
+before the hour arrives. Put the day and minute of your birth on this
+piece of paper, and leave the rest to me.”
+
+‘“You don’t mean to say,” says Tom, doing as he was told and giving him
+back the paper, “that I’m to wait here long, do you? It’s a precious
+dismal place.”
+
+‘“Hush!” says the old gentleman. “It’s hallowed ground. Farewell!”
+
+‘“Stop a minute,” says Tom. “What a hurry you’re in! What’s in that
+large bottle yonder?”
+
+‘“It’s a child with three heads,” says the old gentleman; “and everything
+else in proportion.”
+
+‘“Why don’t you throw him away?” says Tom. “What do you keep such
+unpleasant things here for?”
+
+‘“Throw him away!” cries the old gentleman. “We use him constantly in
+astrology. He’s a charm.”
+
+‘“I shouldn’t have thought it,” says Tom, “from his appearance. _Must_
+you go, I say?”
+
+‘The old gentleman makes him no answer, but climbs up the ladder in a
+greater bustle than ever. Tom looked after his legs till there was
+nothing of him left, and then sat down to wait; feeling (so he used to
+say) as comfortable as if he was going to be made a freemason, and they
+were heating the pokers.
+
+‘Tom waited so long, gentlemen, that he began to think it must be getting
+on for midnight at least, and felt more dismal and lonely than ever he
+had done in all his life. He tried every means of whiling away the time,
+but it never had seemed to move so slow. First, he took a nearer view of
+the child with three heads, and thought what a comfort it must have been
+to his parents. Then he looked up a long telescope which was pointed out
+of the window, but saw nothing particular, in consequence of the stopper
+being on at the other end. Then he came to a skeleton in a glass case,
+labelled, “Skeleton of a Gentleman—prepared by Mr. Mooney,”—which made
+him hope that Mr. Mooney might not be in the habit of preparing gentlemen
+that way without their own consent. A hundred times, at least, he looked
+into the pot where they were boiling the philosopher’s stone down to the
+proper consistency, and wondered whether it was nearly done. “When it
+is,” thinks Tom, “I’ll send out for six-penn’orth of sprats, and turn ’em
+into gold fish for a first experiment.” Besides which, he made up his
+mind, gentlemen, to have a country-house and a park; and to plant a bit
+of it with a double row of gas-lamps a mile long, and go out every night
+with a French-polished mahogany ladder, and two servants in livery behind
+him, to light ’em for his own pleasure.
+
+‘At length and at last, the old gentleman’s legs appeared upon the steps
+leading through the roof, and he came slowly down: bringing along with
+him, the gifted Mooney. This Mooney, gentlemen, was even more scientific
+in appearance than his friend; and had, as Tom often declared upon his
+word and honour, the dirtiest face we can possibly know of, in this
+imperfect state of existence.
+
+‘Gentlemen, you are all aware that if a scientific man isn’t absent in
+his mind, he’s of no good at all. Mr. Mooney was so absent, that when
+the old gentleman said to him, “Shake hands with Mr. Grig,” he put out
+his leg. “Here’s a mind, Mr. Grig!” cries the old gentleman in a
+rapture. “Here’s philosophy! Here’s rumination! Don’t disturb him,” he
+says, “for this is amazing!”
+
+‘Tom had no wish to disturb him, having nothing particular to say; but he
+was so uncommonly amazing, that the old gentleman got impatient, and
+determined to give him an electric shock to bring him to—“for you must
+know, Mr. Grig,” he says, “that we always keep a strongly charged
+battery, ready for that purpose.” These means being resorted to,
+gentlemen, the gifted Mooney revived with a loud roar, and he no sooner
+came to himself than both he and the old gentleman looked at Tom with
+compassion, and shed tears abundantly.
+
+‘“My dear friend,” says the old gentleman to the Gifted, “prepare him.”
+
+‘“I say,” cries Tom, falling back, “none of that, you know. No preparing
+by Mr. Mooney if you please.”
+
+‘“Alas!” replies the old gentleman, “you don’t understand us. My friend,
+inform him of his fate.—I can’t.”
+
+‘The Gifted mustered up his voice, after many efforts, and informed Tom
+that his nativity had been carefully cast, and he would expire at exactly
+thirty-five minutes, twenty-seven seconds, and five-sixths of a second
+past nine o’clock, a.m., on that day two months.
+
+‘Gentlemen, I leave you to judge what were Tom’s feelings at this
+announcement, on the eve of matrimony and endless riches. “I think,” he
+says in a trembling voice, “there must be a mistake in the working of
+that sum. Will you do me the favour to cast it up again?”—“There is no
+mistake,” replies the old gentleman, “it is confirmed by Francis Moore,
+Physician. Here is the prediction for to-morrow two months.” And he
+showed him the page, where sure enough were these words—“The decease of a
+great person may be looked for, about this time.”
+
+‘“Which,” says the old gentleman, “is clearly you, Mr. Grig.”
+
+‘“Too clearly,” cries Tom, sinking into a chair, and giving one hand to
+the old gentleman, and one to the Gifted. “The orb of day has set on
+Thomas Grig for ever!”
+
+‘At this affecting remark, the Gifted shed tears again, and the other two
+mingled their tears with his, in a kind—if I may use the expression—of
+Mooney and Co.’s entire. But the old gentleman recovering first,
+observed that this was only a reason for hastening the marriage, in order
+that Tom’s distinguished race might be transmitted to posterity; and
+requesting the Gifted to console Mr. Grig during his temporary absence,
+he withdrew to settle the preliminaries with his niece immediately.
+
+‘And now, gentlemen, a very extraordinary and remarkable occurrence took
+place; for as Tom sat in a melancholy way in one chair, and the Gifted
+sat in a melancholy way in another, a couple of doors were thrown
+violently open, the two young ladies rushed in, and one knelt down in a
+loving attitude at Tom’s feet, and the other at the Gifted’s. So far,
+perhaps, as Tom was concerned—as he used to say—you will say there was
+nothing strange in this: but you will be of a different opinion when you
+understand that Tom’s young lady was kneeling to the Gifted, and the
+Gifted’s young lady was kneeling to Tom.
+
+‘“Halloa! stop a minute!” cries Tom; “here’s a mistake. I need condoling
+with by sympathising woman, under my afflicting circumstances; but we’re
+out in the figure. Change partners, Mooney.”
+
+‘“Monster!” cries Tom’s young lady, clinging to the Gifted.
+
+‘“Miss!” says Tom. “Is _that_ your manners?”
+
+‘“I abjure thee!” cries Tom’s young lady. “I renounce thee. I never
+will be thine. Thou,” she says to the Gifted, “art the object of my
+first and all-engrossing passion. Wrapt in thy sublime visions, thou
+hast not perceived my love; but, driven to despair, I now shake off the
+woman and avow it. Oh, cruel, cruel man!” With which reproach she laid
+her head upon the Gifted’s breast, and put her arms about him in the
+tenderest manner possible, gentlemen.
+
+‘“And I,” says the other young lady, in a sort of ecstasy, that made Tom
+start—“I hereby abjure my chosen husband too. Hear me, Goblin!”—this was
+to the Gifted—“Hear me! I hold thee in the deepest detestation. The
+maddening interview of this one night has filled my soul with love—but
+not for thee. It is for thee, for thee, young man,” she cries to Tom.
+“As Monk Lewis finely observes, Thomas, Thomas, I am thine, Thomas,
+Thomas, thou art mine: thine for ever, mine for ever!” with which words,
+she became very tender likewise.
+
+‘Tom and the Gifted, gentlemen, as you may believe, looked at each other
+in a very awkward manner, and with thoughts not at all complimentary to
+the two young ladies. As to the Gifted, I have heard Tom say often, that
+he was certain he was in a fit, and had it inwardly.
+
+‘“Speak to me! Oh, speak to me!” cries Tom’s young lady to the Gifted.
+
+‘“I don’t want to speak to anybody,” he says, finding his voice at last,
+and trying to push her away. “I think I had better go. I’m—I’m
+frightened,” he says, looking about as if he had lost something.
+
+‘“Not one look of love!” she cries. “Hear me while I declare—”
+
+‘“I don’t know how to look a look of love,” he says, all in a maze.
+“Don’t declare anything. I don’t want to hear anybody.”
+
+‘“That’s right!” cries the old gentleman (who it seems had been
+listening). “That’s right! Don’t hear her. Emma shall marry you
+to-morrow, my friend, whether she likes it or not, and _she_ shall marry
+Mr. Grig.”
+
+‘Gentlemen, these words were no sooner out of his mouth than Galileo
+Isaac Newton Flamstead (who it seems had been listening too) darts in,
+and spinning round and round, like a young giant’s top, cries, “Let her.
+Let her. I’m fierce; I’m furious. I give her leave. I’ll never marry
+anybody after this—never. It isn’t safe. She is the falsest of the
+false,” he cries, tearing his hair and gnashing his teeth; “and I’ll live
+and die a bachelor!”
+
+‘“The little boy,” observed the Gifted gravely, “albeit of tender years,
+has spoken wisdom. I have been led to the contemplation of woman-kind,
+and will not adventure on the troubled waters of matrimony.”
+
+‘“What!” says the old gentleman, “not marry my daughter! Won’t you,
+Mooney? Not if I make her? Won’t you? Won’t you?”
+
+‘“No,” says Mooney, “I won’t. And if anybody asks me any more, I’ll run
+away, and never come back again.”
+
+‘“Mr. Grig,” says the old gentleman, “the stars must be obeyed. You have
+not changed your mind because of a little girlish folly—eh, Mr. Grig?”
+
+‘Tom, gentlemen, had had his eyes about him, and was pretty sure that all
+this was a device and trick of the waiting-maid, to put him off his
+inclination. He had seen her hiding and skipping about the two doors,
+and had observed that a very little whispering from her pacified the
+Salamander directly. “So,” thinks Tom, “this is a plot—but it won’t
+fit.”
+
+‘“Eh, Mr. Grig?” says the old gentleman.
+
+‘“Why, Sir,” says Tom, pointing to the crucible, “if the soup’s nearly
+ready—”
+
+‘“Another hour beholds the consummation of our labours,” returned the old
+gentleman.
+
+‘“Very good,” says Tom, with a mournful air. “It’s only for two months,
+but I may as well be the richest man in the world even for that time.
+I’m not particular, I’ll take her, Sir. I’ll take her.”
+
+‘The old gentleman was in a rapture to find Tom still in the same mind,
+and drawing the young lady towards him by little and little, was joining
+their hands by main force, when all of a sudden, gentlemen, the crucible
+blows up, with a great crash; everybody screams; the room is filled with
+smoke; and Tom, not knowing what may happen next, throws himself into a
+Fancy attitude, and says, “Come on, if you’re a man!” without addressing
+himself to anybody in particular.
+
+‘“The labours of fifteen years!” says the old gentleman, clasping his
+hands and looking down upon the Gifted, who was saving the pieces, “are
+destroyed in an instant!”—And I am told, gentlemen, by-the-bye, that this
+same philosopher’s stone would have been discovered a hundred times at
+least, to speak within bounds, if it wasn’t for the one unfortunate
+circumstance that the apparatus always blows up, when it’s on the very
+point of succeeding.
+
+‘Tom turns pale when he hears the old gentleman expressing himself to
+this unpleasant effect, and stammers out that if it’s quite agreeable to
+all parties, he would like to know exactly what has happened, and what
+change has really taken place in the prospects of that company.
+
+‘“We have failed for the present, Mr. Grig,” says the old gentleman,
+wiping his forehead. “And I regret it the more, because I have in fact
+invested my niece’s five thousand pounds in this glorious speculation.
+But don’t be cast down,” he says, anxiously—“in another fifteen years,
+Mr. Grig—”
+
+“Oh!” cries Tom, letting the young lady’s hand fall. “Were the stars
+very positive about this union, Sir?”
+
+‘“They were,” says the old gentleman.
+
+‘“I’m sorry to hear it,” Tom makes answer, “for it’s no go, Sir.”
+
+‘“No what!” cries the old gentleman.
+
+‘“Go, Sir,” says Tom, fiercely. “I forbid the banns.” And with these
+words—which are the very words he used—he sat himself down in a chair,
+and, laying his head upon the table, thought with a secret grief of what
+was to come to pass on that day two months.
+
+‘Tom always said, gentlemen, that that waiting-maid was the artfullest
+minx he had ever seen; and he left it in writing in this country when he
+went to colonize abroad, that he was certain in his own mind she and the
+Salamander had blown up the philosopher’s stone on purpose, and to cut
+him out of his property. I believe Tom was in the right, gentlemen; but
+whether or no, she comes forward at this point, and says, “May I speak,
+Sir?” and the old gentleman answering, “Yes, you may,” she goes on to say
+that “the stars are no doubt quite right in every respect, but Tom is not
+the man.” And she says, “Don’t you remember, Sir, that when the clock
+struck five this afternoon, you gave Master Galileo a rap on the head
+with your telescope, and told him to get out of the way?” “Yes, I do,”
+says the old gentleman. “Then,” says the waiting-maid, “I say he’s the
+man, and the prophecy is fulfilled.” The old gentleman staggers at this,
+as if somebody had hit him a blow on the chest, and cries, “He! why he’s
+a boy!” Upon that, gentlemen, the Salamander cries out that he’ll be
+twenty-one next Lady-day; and complains that his father has always been
+so busy with the sun round which the earth revolves, that he has never
+taken any notice of the son that revolves round him; and that he hasn’t
+had a new suit of clothes since he was fourteen; and that he wasn’t even
+taken out of nankeen frocks and trousers till he was quite unpleasant in
+’em; and touches on a good many more family matters to the same purpose.
+To make short of a long story, gentlemen, they all talk together, and cry
+together, and remind the old gentleman that as to the noble family, his
+own grandfather would have been lord mayor if he hadn’t died at a dinner
+the year before; and they show him by all kinds of arguments that if the
+cousins are married, the prediction comes true every way. At last, the
+old gentleman being quite convinced, gives in; and joins their hands; and
+leaves his daughter to marry anybody she likes; and they are all well
+pleased; and the Gifted as well as any of them.
+
+‘In the middle of this little family party, gentlemen, sits Tom all the
+while, as miserable as you like. But, when everything else is arranged,
+the old gentleman’s daughter says, that their strange conduct was a
+little device of the waiting-maid’s to disgust the lovers he had chosen
+for ’em, and will he forgive her? and if he will, perhaps he might even
+find her a husband—and when she says that, she looks uncommon hard at
+Tom. Then the waiting-maid says that, oh dear! she couldn’t abear Mr.
+Grig should think she wanted him to marry her; and that she had even gone
+so far as to refuse the last lamplighter, who was now a literary
+character (having set up as a bill-sticker); and that she hoped Mr. Grig
+would not suppose she was on her last legs by any means, for the baker
+was very strong in his attentions at that moment, and as to the butcher,
+he was frantic. And I don’t know how much more she might have said,
+gentlemen (for, as you know, this kind of young women are rare ones to
+talk), if the old gentleman hadn’t cut in suddenly, and asked Tom if he’d
+have her, with ten pounds to recompense him for his loss of time and
+disappointment, and as a kind of bribe to keep the story secret.
+
+‘“It don’t much matter, Sir,” says Tom, “I ain’t long for this world.
+Eight weeks of marriage, especially with this young woman, might
+reconcile me to my fate. I think,” he says, “I could go off easy after
+that.” With which he embraces her with a very dismal face, and groans in
+a way that might move a heart of stone—even of philosopher’s stone.
+
+‘“Egad,” says the old gentleman, “that reminds me—this bustle put it out
+of my head—there was a figure wrong. He’ll live to a green old
+age—eighty-seven at least!”
+
+‘“How much, Sir?” cries Tom.
+
+‘“Eighty-seven!” says the old gentleman.
+
+‘Without another word, Tom flings himself on the old gentleman’s neck;
+throws up his hat; cuts a caper; defies the waiting-maid; and refers her
+to the butcher.
+
+‘“You won’t marry her!” says the old gentleman, angrily.
+
+‘“And live after it!” says Tom. “I’d sooner marry a mermaid with a
+small-tooth comb and looking-glass.”
+
+‘“Then take the consequences,” says the other.
+
+‘With those words—I beg your kind attention here, gentlemen, for it’s
+worth your notice—the old gentleman wetted the forefinger of his right
+hand in some of the liquor from the crucible that was spilt on the floor,
+and drew a small triangle on Tom’s forehead. The room swam before his
+eyes, and he found himself in the watch-house.’
+
+‘Found himself _where_?’ cried the vice, on behalf of the company
+generally.
+
+‘In the watch-house,’ said the chairman. ‘It was late at night, and he
+found himself in the very watch-house from which he had been let out that
+morning.’
+
+‘Did he go home?’ asked the vice.
+
+‘The watch-house people rather objected to that,’ said the chairman; ‘so
+he stopped there that night, and went before the magistrate in the
+morning. “Why, you’re here again, are you?” says the magistrate, adding
+insult to injury; “we’ll trouble you for five shillings more, if you can
+conveniently spare the money.” Tom told him he had been enchanted, but
+it was of no use. He told the contractors the same, but they wouldn’t
+believe him. It was very hard upon him, gentlemen, as he often said, for
+was it likely he’d go and invent such a tale? They shook their heads and
+told him he’d say anything but his prayers—as indeed he would; there’s no
+doubt about that. It was the only imputation on his moral character that
+ever _I_ heard of.’
+
+
+
+
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