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Agent for E. G.av,s' Axes; do for Dunn Edge Tool Con^pany'^ Seyther
do for Gear Band Scale Works. ^"yinei,
Fairbanks' Scales ah.ays on hand --All Goods import,edd> m from mana-
facturera, and sold at lowest cash prices.
D. MAGEE & CO.
if«»H/berttrer», Imporfera and Peakr« in
HATS, CAPS, ^ «
WHOLESALE 4b RETAIL.
NO 53 KING STKrXT, ST. JOHN, N. B.
-*»."*-
Cash Paid fop Shipping Furs.
D. MAGEE.
^- K MANKS.
5
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Scythes;
amaxia-
tKsS_
8.
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THIS
AUTHOR ;
OB.
SKETCHES FROM LIFE.
BY
40TH0B OF -MURDER WILL OUT. OR OONPESSIOKS
A VILLAGE APOTHECARY."
OP
NEW EDITION.-REVISEO AND CO:.RECTED.
SAINT JOHN, N. B.:
J. & A. McMillan, printkrs -a nnrxT^^
1866.
J
^
THE AUTIIOK;
OH.
SKETCHES FROM LIFE.
CHAPTKJl I.
80 joyful he to Alma M«trr went,
A sturdy freHhman : see hirn just arrived,
Received, matriculated, and resolved
To drrwn hi* fie^hnees in a Pipe of Port—
"Quirk Mr. Vintner, twenty d..z.Mi more •
Some claret too-here's to our frirndn at home ;
J here lot them doze,_be it our nobler aim
To live — how standa the bottle V
Modern Rake's Progress,
About three milea from the High Western Koad and two from Readinir
J^anda t e little Village of C«.er.ham, and ju. two miles morT ^om fj
Cour with a awn ,n front and a magnificent paddock behind. This is or
was the hereditary abode of James Daubigny, Esq., a widower, who, at'th
tune my narrative commences, was in the full posHession of £4000 per
annurn, an only son. aged eighteen, now on the wing fo, Cambridge, and an
.Iderly maiden s.ster. The early part of Mr. Daubigny's hfe had Ln spe„
^n rambling about the Continent, where, as is seldom the case with gen le-
men wo erave • amusement, ho had contrived to pick up some viable
information, together wi.h no slight allowance of romance. I„ disposition Le
was generous, .inrere and irritable, endowed will, a lolty sen.e of honor
but rather too deeply bigoted in his attachn.ent to Mhe'good old tits.'
Hh long residence in the country had c.ntributed to keep alive this prejudice
^r most of h.s early Iriends were dead, and the courtly Lteliness of he oj
"onal .? r T'^'^'y '-^^^VP^^^^' ^0 make room for a more que.
Uonable politeness, he felt that hs w«« «.,♦ ^e »,:.. _. • . ^.
~ hkc ,he ,.ce.ho,« of Hor.c., re«,l,.J ,„ t... up . ro.r™, i„ .i„.. '
M..s«ter, who „., , year younger than tim^lf, and ownej to thirly..U
THE AUTHOR.
although fiho wns nt Iraot fiHy, inhoriliMl itimilar prfponfifFiiiojiii. ft wai said
that f>he hml hrrn a couri hcauty in hf>r thiy, and «veii admired hy a rrrtain
royal Uuk)*; but howtvor this may he, certain it is, that up to the present
time Bh*" wa« fltill u ppiiiBter, and Iron) lirr tart shrill voice, upare figure, ner-
vous ppruliarities and d«'cj»rrate pitriiailly for an old medicine cheat, was
excccttiiigly likrly to cniiiinup fo. For tt-n monotonous years ».he had never
been otiie x»>parati-d frotn her brother, but clung so ndhesivrly to him in all
m^itterd of ta«te, that evi-n her features deemed to have acquired a resem-
blance, probably from an uncotisciouii habit of imitation, as an aflectionate
wife ■< saiil in «hie course of time to grow so like her husband that even a
naturalist would be puzzled to say uhich was which.
Moht fuiuilii'8 have pome standard joke, some little domestic witticism,
wbicli however dull without itn own circle, h mnnstroutsly whimsical within.
Now Mrs. Sarah — us her gotlf.lhcr and goltiiother had baptized her — was
the 8ul»j' ct of the Daubigny waggery, and a circumstance which had occurred
in early life had been placed to her account, as a sort of capital, in the Bank
of Moinus on which the proprittors never failed to draw whenever their
own stock of jokes ran liw. The circumstance was this: She was once
seated with the late Lord in the stage box at Drury Lane, when a
rcp)rt spread throughout the theatre that Her Majesty was expected. The
house was instantly in an uproar : heads were thrust forward into every nook
and corner where it was pr)8sible for heads to thrust themselves, and the
whole theatre, actors, musiciaris and all burst into an uproarious •' God save
the t^ueen." At this instant the royal Duke, who has before been men-
tioned, happened to enter Mro. Sarah's box, and as all the world knows that
a mob resolved to see a Queen are sure never to go away disappointed, so
they now turned our virgin heroine into "her majesty," (although she was
at least a foot hi};hcr and took snuflf.) and paid her all the honors of royaltj.
From this eventful evening the good 'ady was ever after dubbed "her
majesty," a name by which she was better known throughout the family
than by her own maiden patronymic.
Within a stone's throw of Dorney Court, lived an elderly gentleman
named Pope. He wiis a bachelor of some standini? — say fifty years — slifi^
serious, and formal in demeanour, exceedingly safe in conversation, (having
never been known to approach nearer to a joke, than just some piece of
orthodox waggery at Xmas.) with hair nicely trimmed, voice deep and im-
posing, and countenance tis grave as an old gate-post. For twenty years,
from the time of bis resigning his fellowship at St. John's, up to the present
THE AUTUOU.
d»y, hfl had never Btirred hut twice from {'averHhttm, and now upcmfd to
have Ukfn 8u apily calhd, a
sheep'* eye towards "Her Maj.-gty," following up the Hnid .ye with an en-
quiry concerning her nervoiiMnesH, rheumatism, or whatrvt-r cUe wah the
ailment of the day. Mrs. Sarah, us in d.j»y hound, would reply with n Ionic
of exactly the a.imc fondness, recunimtiiding in aildiiioj) some choicu nostrum
of her own, which, if the poor g» ni.'eman was not ulreii.ly ill, never failed to
make him so. After this, a pause would ensue: hut enough had heen said,
and when Mr. Pope retired (or the night, he was sure to find— oh, the strong
power of woman's tenderness .'—his great coat, and red worsted neik cloth,
ready aired hy »• Her M^jt/sty's" own hands, with a few pills t^lily tlirusl into
the p«)eket, accompanied hy an especial request, m;i.le at the top of her M)icc,
and heard half w.iy down the luwn, that he should la). • '.he.n in barley-walcr,
just before he went to bed.
It bhnuld have heen mentioned, that our worthy bachelor was the Vicar of
the Parish ; and having premised thus much, it need not be added, thai ho
was fond of a good dinner. Every one in short has his weak side, and Mr.
Pope's chief fault was, that he could never see a turhot and lobsUr sauce,
without the most alTecting desire to make them •♦ flesh of his flesh and hone
of his bone." In his religious duties he was exactly the reverse of Ralulais;
for whereas that hiilliant sallist oliserves, that sermons, like siirrup leathers,
should he made long or short, to suit all occasions. Mi. Po| e's, on the con-
trary, lasted just eighteen minutes, so thai the congregation who knew his
habits, never failed to wake exactly at the right time. A few more words
touching his exterior deportment, and I will then dismiss him for the present.
It has been already said, that he was formal, but this does not aliogether con-
vey an idea of his address. He was in fict, so perfectly PtiflT, straight and
unliending, that you might suppose he was sent weekly, together with his
collars, to the washerwoman, and by her buckramed and starched up for
service. On entering a room, he firs' b-wed in the shape of an angle (two
sides of which were described by his back and legs, while the angle itself
was formed by the nether-end of his inexpressibles.) at the door; and then
gravelv ndvancinc towards t>!a tinat iliwl/u.i
liiiv at aiiii s iCilgih
«
THE AUTKOR.
after %Vhlch ceremony he seated himself bolt upright in his chair, with bis
great red face peeping out above the pillory of his cravat; and never once
looked either to the right or the left, until he rose to take leave. This was
the gei.tleman, together with Mrs. Sarah and her brother, who now, Mondaj,
October 2, 186—, sat formally dipping his wine over a good fire at l)or.»ey
Court, and giving letween whiles the most delectable advice to young Ed-
ward Daubigny, the Uautab above mentioned.
•• You will find (he Univerhity much altered from what it was in my time,
young gentleman," he began.
" Aye, uye, Pope, and no doubt for the worse," replied his father; "indeed,"
he added, "the youth of the present day are altogether a different race from
what they were in my lime. They have lost, if I may so express myself,
the romance, the manliness, the energy which used to shed a dignity even
over their dissipation. Don't you think so 1 Hey Pope."
" Perhaps so. but Mr. Edward is going to redeem them all."
" Well, said Pope, Edward with his education, his taste for literature, and
general buoyancy of spirit, must and shall cut a figure."
" Yes, that he mu«t and shall," re;.lied her majesty : " Mr. Pope," she
added, turning with a simper towards him, "had you not better draw nearer
the Gre ? the wind from that door will give you cold else ; I caught my rheu-
maiism last week in the v^iy same manner: indeed had it not been for James
Febrifuge ."
" Pass the boltle. Pope," exclaimed Mr. Daubigny, interrupting his sister's
threatened oration, "and let us drink succpss to Edward."
" With all my heart," replii d the clergyman, and turning his whole body
round like a pivot, thus prefaced his toast : " You are now going, young gentle-
man, to a place where, as I who know the world, (he knew as much about it
as an unweaned Hottentot) can affirm that both vice and virtue abounds."
"Dear, «lear, how true." whispered Mrs. Sarah to her brother admiringly.
" It will be your task, however, my young friend, to select the good from
the evil, and above all, to impress on your mind the important fact, that
lime once past, never returns."
" I have heard that in one of your sermons, Mr. Pope," exclaimed her
majesty.
" Perhaps so, madam, but it is very true for all that ;" with which words,
the church clock happening jus- then to strike nine, he rose majestically to
depart, Mrs. Sarah following him half wav down the lawn, with a narf^ni-r
request, that he would never sit in a thorough draught.
f
THE AUTHOR. 1
n the following morning, our young Cantab, aPer a world of exhortationt
from his aunt anJ father, touching the virtues of study, flanneJ waistcoat*
aiid James's Febrifuge, was seen walking towards Reading, followed closely
by a portmanteau wi'h a footman underneaili it. From thence he took coach
for London, whce he made a day's halt, after which, he flew as fast a« Mr.
Isaac Walton's good driving could take him, to Cambridge, and was deported
safe and sound, at the Eagle & Child, just three da vs after quilling Caversham.
Within a few hours from the time of his arrival he was eurroundeJ by a
crowd of tradesmen. One requested his custom as a tailor ; another assored
him of the profound respect which he should always pay to his orders for
wine ; while all agreed in offering unlimited credit. And this to a youth
scarcely eighteen, of strong passions, and but just starting into freedom from th«
intolerable slavery of school. No wonder that his better reason was bewil-
dered, and that amid the pleasures that surrounded him, and even intruded
themselves on his notice, he fell a sacrifice to his inexperience. The first
week, however, was quietly and laudably devoted to the gratification of hifl
curiosity. In the course of the second, he entered himself a pensioner of
Trinity College; fe rooms, by unexpected luck, in the Quadrangle; and
attended Chapel, Hall and Lectures, with such punctilious exactness, that
he began to be pronounced on all hands, a very promising young freshman.
This exemplary conduct continued upwards of a month; when one morning,
as he happened to be pacing in his blue silk gown down Trumpington Street,
a quick lively voice called after him, and turning round, he beheld to his
surprise and delight, his old schoolfellow Bob Handiman. The recognition
was mutually agreeable, for Bob, although he formed one of that numerous
and respectable class ol Her Majesty's subjects, who may be specifically
called Bloikheads, was yet a good humoured sociable fellow, with a laugh for
everything and everybody, and above all, a devout digester of even his
friend's worst jokes.
On the present occasion, his complaisance was highly acceptable; and an
he sat at dinner in Daubigny's rooms, over a glass of very passable cham-
paigne, (considering the principal ingredient was gooseberries,) ho reminded
bis friend of their numerous fchoi.! freaks and onnoyances.
"You remember my brother, Nf.d," he began, ♦' don't you ?" •
" Remember him, to he sure !"
" And don't you remember, too, how you used to quiz us both at Reading V
•* What, about the floggi'ig, y"U mean."
M Yea : you used to say that I was '
8
THE AUTHOR
-i.:. .hose i,,e„u™. „„,u,, u.o .co,.^ ^J^zi^:;;^:':::^'
.ffec.,.„a.a Wed, ^ndcd a. a ra,.id pa.e .owarda .hT a ^a t n tl
"Lean up,„i mu, my deareal Edward " .aid u i "'"'"""'"•"""«"•
down 11,0 Peas M.,1,,, • ''"'• ''"'' ''""J'Man, as they iu,uej
.op":itr,:r;/ad::\:d::^:jT;r" •™'"r'"''^'" "'^''^°••
.b..oc,of a„„id„„,na„ Jll ">^' P'^'l-'aled l,i,n i„,„ ,ho .0,.
bona,, :;::!;: ', T^rrt^'r "'° """"='" -^ °'*""^- ■'■'■«
crowded in all parls; fur l,e it known one way or olher » r,™
bndge aud.cnco is sure 10 de.i.o an.pic gra.ificalion If n
is a tragedy, a rich al)u,„|.,n™ f *^ . S™'"""""- " "'e piece rejiresented
if on .„!. c'„,r:;' ::t '; , r;;"" ""■"'" t. """"^"^ "^ ""-'«' =
8r»»ity Willi whi.h .1,! , '"""' "'''>"'» '° '»'' "'« P'-f-unJ
Lani: :,:' :::r^ '"; """ '-''- -" "'-'^«^ ■>•• '■■ «■'?--«.
. prouy girl, and ':;: ; : r -^r::::;'' ^"^ ■" «- -^^ - -pp-emiy
excellence InflHm. 1 I '"""'""'S'' audience, ineludes almost every
•dmiralio,, of LZ^,I:^'ZrZ T'"" '"' '""" '" '"- '"
particular bewitched him and l' '■ ™' *""=" "' """ """^"'''"' '"
-..=j nis nio in Uie arms of such an O^jhelia. "' ' ' " " '"" "
7:
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THE AUTHOR. 9
" *"""/ °" '•"'. T'" " "» -!•'• '"f"' -J wha, i, .his divino ceuluroV
;'"'; 7"-'' •"- '-"•'. '■ I'U' here c.n.. „„„ „„„ ,„„, [^, , ,^,,^ ,,^.
l-«,., Iha. e k„„„, ovcy ac.re» ■„ England;" a„J a. ,bis i„.,a,., ,1,; l.„r
rh,a ge„,le,„a„ waa what may be called ,ho eaaence of da„dyU,„ Hit
ra:r::i/;".!"dT\"' ^"'""^■"" -""" '""^"''' - - "•-^■'' ""^ "
he cou J al„,os. c,,„,r,ve ■„ I.ea.ho. In fi,„,e be waa tall bu. »,m, „i h a„
aver „„ ,he gape. ,„ order .„ di,„la, „ n„e a,, „f ,„„,„. .,, ^, ,,^.,„ „.j ,^
eaa.„e co„ge „„h Edward, „„d had besides been lately ioCrod.td o
b.m, no funher cere,„„„y ,„„b p^ce ,«i„„,„ ,h„,„_ „ ,, ^, ,
dreaded h™ unreservedly on .he .ul.jec. of hi. preae,,; diUmn.a.
a* f!:i2J;z.^'""' '"' ""'"^ "' •"" '»■"'«"'•» """^"^ ' • -"^
vo'u"a"rl"""*'h°°'" "• "1 '^-'""-•kn"win8ly."0h Lord- Ned, how droll
,0 .r.,_.vhy. you ve been worrying ™e .„ dea.h .his half-hour abou. .ha
SI'I, and now you say il is „,dy for info, malion."
>:t::t:.;':tr:tv:"""'"^'"-'--^
.haVc!:';;::,;:,:""'''^''"""' '•"^^"■^'^- •'^<'— eve, .routed „i.h
. li."here'd." ""'' "'" ° ""' '"" "" ' '"'' """' ^^ """ " -"»"'. ""
"Love, love," replied Larkins, heedless of his interruption. Very good
.lieilrt'^^x^r.brl:"";"?'^''^'"^"^^-"'-^^
au . . , ^ " ' *■" '"*>* notlmig further was wanting M comoletis
•he happ,„ess of „„ parries, b„. .be appearanee i„ Ae. 5 of y^ungZ I
a ordL , 7" "r ''"''"^'' "°"" "' »— "• A substitute wa.
Zle a, b i , ' • '" '"'"" "' ■" '"««"'••"' -"-"--a--, whieh
uuring ine rest of ihe stay ihe conii.any made at IJ:.rn„,.i. '
J:r:r.b?:'r o::z ^"-j-^'--^-^-'-^ i. oha.p,i«„,
•air upneiia mto something transcendantly beautiful
10
THE AUTHOR.
gifldfy a\ailed himself of an invitation to sup with Larkins at Trinity, on the
express condition that he should be afterwards introduced to the actress, with
whom it seems, bis friend, stage struck like most idle young men, had been
long acquainted. The proposal was accordingly acceded to ; and at half-pasi
eleven o'clock, just two minutes after the theatre closed, Daubigny and his
new friend made the best of their way towards Ophelia's abade at Castle
End. On the road, Edward's imagination was kindled to the highest degree,
and he passed Old Magdalen Bridge, deeply absorlied in meditation on the
mind and manners of the angel he was going to visit. Larkins laughed at
his absurdity, indulged in a variety of " pon honors :" and '• very goods." at
the warmth of his expectations; and then making a sudden halt, " there,"
said he with a smile, •• lives your Ophelia, Ned ; mention my name, that will
be enough ; and so, good night— this wind blows too keen for any one but a
lover; and with these words he shook Daubigny by the hand, turned back
again towards Magdalen, and was out of sight in an instant.
On the moment of his departure, our hero applied his hand to the knocker,
and insinuated what may be termed a true lover's rap— palpitating, mysteri.
ous, and intermittent. A little sar.dy-haired girl appeared at the summons.
••Is Ophelia at home 1" he falteringly exclaimed : for in the confusion of his
senses, he had forgotten to ask her real name. "Ophelia 1" she replied with
a stare, •« Miss Muggii) , Sir, I suppose you mean ; howsomdever"—
" Muggins, Muggins," echoed Edward, " Good God ! what a name, how.
ever show me the way up, girl," and as he ascended those consoling lines of
Shakespeare came promptly to his recollection — •• A name, what's in u name,
a rose by any other name will amell as sweet." On reaching the head of the
stairs he involuntarily halted, overcome by a pleasing palpitation, arising
from the conpciousness that he was now going to see all that eatth yet re-
tained of heaven. His conductress, however, made no allowance for a lover,
but suddenly threw aside a dingy garret door, with this impr-ssive remark,
•• A gemman wants Miss Muggins." In an instant he was in the midst of a
room to which the Black Hole at Calcutta must have been a palace. Hie
situation was ludicrously picturesque. There stood the Muggins and her
mother, armed, the one with a poker, the other with a frying pan ! by their
side wag a pug dog, fat, frisky and belligerent, and to the right in distance,
flanked by a coal skuttle, towered a black torn cat, in a high state of wrath
and animation. Where then, the reader will ask, was «« the fair Ophelia ?"
Where was she, who but four short h-us ago? to adopt the language of
Gibbon, '•' reared her b^ad in the splendour of unsullied beauty,'* and who,
I
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THE AUTHOR. n
.k.« .ir w,„ld h.,. given Edward .. «,„,. vi.le.s. only ,h,y „i,her.d wh«
W poor f..b„ dM ." God know., .h. «o„,ed lik.,; ,„ giv, fcta nothing
now bu. olox on ,h. e.r: f„, .omo .nch.„..r, ,he ,an,, do„b,l«, wh.
pho«d .. ,b. f.,r 0,hel„" i„.„ ,he ,u.dni„.„Iar app.,i,i„„ „f MU. Muggin..
T,™k. m..,.,.„„r.. ,bia ,e„d.r..,d.„gh,.,of Poloniu.. .h. wh.drown.d
h.«.lf for ,0.. of ,he Lord H.ml.,, w.. ,c,„.ny frying ..n..ge. for .upper.
E..m.. pow.™. do I ,i,„ ,0 wri„ ,hi, hi..„^, f,^,, „^__^^_^ PP
"VT*"' ■" '■' ''"" '""''• *° ""'■'•"' "' '""'«-'»«. or e»™ .
^aZZ^JT' "","' fr '" """"'™ "'"• 'i°«» Bli^beth, h.
«u..lr ? " evlpeddown .h..bon,ina,ion-b„. sa-agoa-borrible
The next morning he woke, .. might be eipec.od, „i,h . desperate head.
•Td i'n f .TT' "".'; ' ""'"""'"'• "'' """'' '"'"««'• »" '^P" clouded.
"..dull. Dryden ,„«p,d. Mihon metbodiatical. He then prepared to dr«.
:^:zi ' """i" 'r '"• '•• '"" •" ''-'"' "™''"' - -^^ •"••
g™«. ha. the razor . l.pped, ga.hed hi. chin i„ ,he very par. where it „..
ffl, . on., h. wa. cheered by the .ound of Handim.n'. .. Oh, Lord • or
Lord!" pronounced with affecting p„h„.. a. he beheld a piec of Aking
on Opheh. 1 I hope .he received ,o„ a. fondly a. you expected."
. My good fe low," returned Edward, with a .igb, -never again mcn.ion
.h..co,,fo„„ded name; would you believe it, the creature wa. a. lea., Zy
w. h . broad red face like .he Saracen'. Head, and a. far a. I could judge
::!i.";.r:o:,"""" '- "■- "'-'"' «—•" '-*- -- ad^mirj
■• Wh, the fact i.. .he is our only heroine here, .o that behind .he «,„,.
:'"r!rr..".'i' :°-'"'-'"" -»"«' - «- '--.^ -f ,hi. : ,r:
i.: -." «"i'^'.:;h :;:i:h:„Trf„:c:ai""" ""' "'"' -"' '■"
12
THE AUTHOR.
The point was soon agreed on : E J ward hastened to conclud" his toilette,
«nd then, nrrayed in a new drivinj^ co^t of the must enviable aymmetry, walked
with hiif frienJ towards the Uarnwolt Turnpike, where they found their
tindom with the leader ready h.irne8«ed, awaitinij their arrival.
Whoever has had the good fortune to drive one of these formidalde
ifeiiiclc's, (mail carls as ihey are sometimes called,) will conceive the pcstaRj
with which our hero, at the rate of twelve miles an hour, a fine brisk lueize
netting in right against him, and hi^ horses hoofs clattering over the magnifi-
cent stony road, accompanied Handiman to Newmarket.
The main street was crowded on thuir arrival; blacklegs, amateurs of the
<«rf, heroes of the fist, pickpockets and novices, being all j<»!itled promiscuously
together. Every haz»rd and E. O. table was in requisition, every inn filled,
«nd every waiter ducked out in a new coat and napkin. At a quarter before
•lie, the racers, accompanied by tlieir riders, among whom Little Buckle
«hone pre-eminent, made their appearance in the stables situated at the further
«Rd of the Beacon course, an immense mob attended them, all anxious to
aJvance an opinion (the most ignorant in particular) co the merits of the
«cspeciive horses.
The betting post was by this time completely crowded ; men on horseback,
«n foot, id buggies, tilburies, tandoms. and randoms, all eagerly ndvanred
•offers, which were as eagerly accepted or refused. Suddenly a bfll rang;
when eight horses, headed l»y a bay mire, called Fanny, btarted at o/jce for
tfie sweep stakes. It was altogether a most attractive sight. The numerous
Cambridge students, in their elegant and diversified equip:iges, lined both sides
of the course; while beside them stool an almost endless row of carriages,
filled with the gayest company. The distant hill, too, from which the Beacon
course commences, appeared one complete moving mass, and upon it a mert-
-dian sun now shone down in fullest splendour. At this critical moment a
o'oar like the ocean was heard from a distant corner of the course, and the
liorses appeared galloping on the brow of the hill. Nearing to the sight,
their speed became more vis.ble, until the difTirent emblems of success were
•dearly manifest to all. The halloo of the bystanders was now loudly in-
creased, and the clerks of the course galloped down the throng of gazers,
flourishing their huge hunting whips around them. '♦ Clear the course^
gentlemen, for God's sake clear the course, they'll be here immediately.'^
•** Five to four on Fanny," exclaimed a little gentleman with a botlie nose.
^ D )ne-. done, sir," renlied a neighbour, notins down the bet in his accouni
book.
^
THE AUTHOR.
1^
L
<• Fanny distances them all, by G — d," whined out Lord B , stretching
out his ostrich npck to the utmost.
" Well done, Buckie, bravo Buck'e," said the little gentleman with th«
nose, '• go it my boy, here they are, here they are, coming, coming, huzza 1
the day is ours."
•' Yellow jacket for ever," said a voice in the rear of the betting post.
"Black cap for ever," replied on amateur from the opposite quarter.
The goal was now fast approaching, and the hay mare Fanny still kept th»
lead. Onward like a wave she bounded, while tho cries were redoubled, anj
the bets trebled to their former amounts. " Bhck stripe for ever— go il
yellow stripe — ten to one on red cap." Any apples, pears, nuts, orangey
snuffled out a little Jew boy. " Here's a true and faithful history of the four
men who was executed this here morning, with a full and particular account
of their last dying speech and confession, shewing as how ;" " tJet off"
the course, you scoundrel," interrupted the enraged clerk, " don't you see
they're already at the brow of the hill." The shouts were now redoubled,
and all eyes were bent on Fanny. Her triumph seemed already complete,
when unluckily on nearing the out-signal p'»3l she bolted, her rider came lO'
the ground, Octavian passed them, and the knowing ones were taken in.
This finished the amusements of the diy, for in a few minutes the race
ground became deserted, and Edward, accompanied by Hanuiman, returned
to dine with Larkins at Trinity. In the course of the evening, when conver-
sation began to slacken (no uncommon thing at Cambridge), and the wine
to vent itself in uproar, the whole party — twelve in all — resolved to sally out
in order to enjoy a row. The first place they reached was an old-fashioned
brick house in Jesus Lane, on which were inscribed the words " Seminary
for Young Ladies." This they tore down instanter, with the intention cff
fixing it over the great gates of Trinity, when on passing along Trumpingtoit
Street, ah -nd of drunken snobs drove full tilt against them. A battle in-
stantly commenced. Not a word passed on either side — time was too precious
to be so wasted, and accordingly they all rushed together, snobs and students
in one confused mass. With respect to parties, that luckily madn no difler-
fnce; a blow given by one gownsman to his ally, instead of to a snob, toM
equally well on the skull of either, so that friends and foes drubbed, thumped
and pummelled away, with the most disinterested and indiscriminate iok
partiaUty.
This notable engagement continued for upwards of an hour, when the stu-
dents being somewhat disordered, as much by the blows of their own party astb*
12 14
1
«n» ™=<-ived . |„,ler
wp tnnnf;,.,, t,' "='^"ng8, IS at lirxt imnercept ble*
and ioviieJ them whol« i • ''*' ^"^^"^ gownHmen,
.he. .u™, and ILtt'i;:*:: ortf t""""^' 't-^' "" "^
werp ..yor .„ ,u ^ rensned. Uur hero, however, whose feelines
or tne curricle of Larkms, must needs sport a tandom nf hs-
THK ArjTHOR.
' fo»rn, gown,
nnett College
ke manner re-
on the tnoet
night Proctor
ble direction,
arty of then
•« great gates,
e mentioned,
IS
into ad the
'ived a letter
h from «• her
Hundiman,
*a of gloom.
' ■"*"> good-
'o true it is,
under hea>
ith which a
Perceptible ;
oin we can
)tart to find
to our hap.
frequenfej
noved Jrom
»ted on the
jownsmen,
ig> all had
'se feelings
iandiman,
a. and on
, STSS <>Up-
n went so
w.nl of pr.c.ic., fo, b. w., ., p,„„,i.i„g . whip ., h, „„ „t Z, U.
"u tliere coulil lio no doubt on the subject.
Within .week after the ta,ido,„ had been ordered, it wa. di«overed with
.ho .fore„,d Mr. O.e .e.ted on the bo, «... „inJi„g ;„ , ",„wal .h,
d^„:„' hid" 'V ""' "'"" "■"• ""' '^•'"-* -J "i ""- H "
dZ 7; or d "T'k '° "'"' " ' ""' " "">• "'"«' "•■"« '-«"«• Hunting.
fc» nnnutcs. to g.,e ,h„ horse, time to breathe ; a hint, the propriety „f which
«^e leader once or twice endeavored to enforce upon th. dri.er L t„"l!
«.n,p etc,, round and ...ring hi™ f„„ i„ .He Jc. Thi, bul a .ceo:'
'n .oo7::,: r" t "f'"- ^"-^ '"'^ "^'•" "-"• »■ -i™ -"- -z,
Heren " ' °" T '""" "«"" "■>'=" "••"■- P"' »f •>"- Lincoln Fe„.s
po hod ' . „ !'r " r """ "" ^" ■' """•'"« '"" " '"• °" "«" ""ich.
po'chod upon a ,h,„g that a poetic fancy might discover t, have been one.
1 "™: I":, "'""'"''' "^-^°-"--- Margate bathh; r
chtno. lh.s notable prospect conlinned till the, reached Godmancbesler
Fourain l: ■ '"'"" """ '"•"""•""'• °-' » ^-"» °f =>«- .' '■-
B, thi» lime the, entered the Town-hall, the ball had already commenced-
n c rfulr^Se; """• ""'""""•' ""-■ "-" ■" -l-'^O - H^"
LT u """ """"' "^ "" """"• '"""' • 'i'"" -an in hl.ck
mpertng ,„ t ree ovcrgro„„ old „,„ids, there, le.nin, over the bsc „ or
h.,r, appeared .„ e,,uisi.e, whispering co„,p,i„enta ,1 „ ,„„„g ,1 wh
ace as far as the t.p of her „„se wa., hidden b, her fan. L,i„g „ 1 1'.
..ch other fur the second .,„,e „,„ „ ,k.s ol execrable negus ; at the other
nem i he two inends stood awhile aloof, observing and criticising, the dif
ejebrows pa.nted to a n.cet,, and his .nouth opened to at least twice its u.„„
" A very decent set-out this. ,»„ honor." 1,„ „j.. : .. ..
wards Edward. " "' •'""'••■•"'""■»>»'"' a iisp to.
D»..,big„,. however, w.. ,.,„ „„,h ,„^3g„, ,„ ,^p,^ ^^^ ^.^ ^^^^ ^^^^ . _^_
16
THE AUTHOR,
i"o.Ie a mo,t sat.Rfactory .llncovery. viz.: that at the upper end of the room
and between two formal old aftornie«, there Kfoud. her sweet face turned to-
wards h.m.whit he very naturally mistook for nn nngel.
•' I« she not heau.iful ?" he exHaimc.l. pointing in the agitation of ♦he
inoment . ,o an elderly la.ly. the mother of eight thumping daughter., the
rl.• ...
„ , .,«i,..c , i aa^ HOibjng 01 me Qianner in which Daubigny
TUK AUTIIOU. ij
«,uh|ed him..lf .Mh., awful ,,„i„,, of ,H„ ,,„j,i||,, ^^,, ,^^
me.o truly .,.rm,„gft„„, „ ,„„„,,,„„ „f , „^ £ •
.. I .huddcr «. 1,. bare ide,. Enough ,„ »ay, ,.,a. ..,..y d,„,„, „ ;"'
!;:.,.: " •'"""™" ""'- '"'"■"" ^''™- "■ -" an/e,„„i,o .ae™:
The next morning EJwarJ, who .hrougl.ou. .he night had been Jre-„„i„.
o Uura. was awakeucd hy the abrupt appearance of hia eolb, ZZ'
d no aeener a..v h,™ enter, than his „.i„d, running upon ,he g aeeful form
of M,,s Vernon he rushed half ..|„ep .„„arda the 1„. .hrL hi" Z
•round him, and then (JnJing his mislakc ri,«h..,l l„ r .■
•• Ple.«« Sr, " „• 1 .1 ,■ '""'""'• ""•>'"> '" eonfusion to his bed.
Please Sir sa.d .he Cyp, when his surprise all,.wod hi,n to sneak
-was ordered .ogive you .his here lel.er, .he first thing to-da;". :„j7en
The"! 'r" '"'"""''' ™J'">'''=" "-"'S"^'" hi. cltions
The note s,™p|y eon.an.ed an invitation from hi, .„,„, .„ ji„„„ „;';";•
i::;^:::;r:t::t;r-rrr^^^^^^^
wuhin i, unintelligible. They perpetually .ailed ;bo"'ir«; Z,
.•:r rha::;?:::!:;; ri^dtr-rjr -^ •^--
. ow heJs ° " ""'' '"'"''' "•" '""'■ ■""•-a-i-, (L they
rtow themselves in your smaller geniuses,) invariably tend lo rnnfin f
Vour mere university mathem.tieian is .he grea.est ass n ta.i on Ta ^ t
him of poetry, he stuns you with the words .. first prineinles ■" «„,.!, f .
■ng, history, musie, sculpture, all that contributes ol„ , 'P'"" "'P^'"'"
.race of life, and he will ,ell y„„ .ha. it prol s o^i gi'llr;;:;' ""
false, for it proves at least that he is a bloekhead " '° "
_ r.„hrnan „as of course soon sickened of this party, and on quitting
18
ril K AUTliOU
fp
t
n
«
il
hi
U
aF
cu
ac
sei
da
be
mn
ho
phi
— s
wis
cart
ttvei
bnpt
snmi
chan
mere
couli
meat
joino
8tori<
not fl
the • iin /"wWch ho iliil alter the clolh wan rcinovml urnlor prcloncc oi Hudden
„„• .11 J run tt« if all (:ambrid«i) waa afltr him, towards J'isua Lane,
«(ht dcrtd oul hi» taiidoiii, and iii Wa* llniii iwo hours had safely
arrived at » '.rtain liUle c<»tlane. Iwtweaii liuiiliii jdon and (tixIniarichcHter,
«n Iho delectable banks of the Ou.-«.- H«re. lo hU grcit di-liglit, h« found
l.nura, without nri angle in hur f.u.c or nuud, all Hiiiilurt, and unriiptured to «iie
huii. If hjforo ho liud ihougljt hiT hcautiUil, n\u' now. wht-ri contru'ted with
-d and Laura, for want of some more romantic spot, were com-
pelled, during their meetings, to walk up and down the kitchen garden, where
among cabbages and cauliflowers, they told each other the secrets of their
hearts. Colonel Vernon sometimes joined them, when of course their eyes
alone spoke, but more frequently he left them to themselves ; for the conver-
fiation of two young people who have nothing but sentiment to discuss, must,
to a gentleman turned sixty, be somewhat disagreeable.
A whole fortnight thus passed on, and scarcely a day elapsed without
•oeeing Edward's tandom turned towards Huntingdon. He had always
something to leave at Colonel Vernon's, some little commission to execute,
or some pretty story book to bring back, so that th« irequefcy of his "isiu
(if you come to think seriously about it) is not at all to W wondeu^ at.
When, however, he had borrowed and brought back as many books as would
hive nilfii a decetit library, a female neighbor of Colonel Vernon's, one of
th; " inquisitive old cats, who abound in country towns, was, for the first time
ir.' hi '■''■ truck with an idea, and this was nothing more nor less than that
Edvv,i ■vai' in love with Laura. Here vva.s a discovery! Here was a
^
THE AUTlIOll
19
ot Hudden
HUH Lane,
hud siifcly
iiiichuKter,
, h» found
I red to Hiie
a ted »vilh
Ion, gained
uid then a
,'s faintest
tut iniiy be
irtairi dash
that gave a
hct>n prin-
cptint; 'wo
t her man-
inf^cnuoua
;don aflbrds
r and some
)ull rushes;
, were com-
rden, where
ets of their
B their eye«
the conver-
scuss, must,
led without
iiad always
to execute,
of his 'isiti
trondeiuu dt.
iks as would
ion's, one of
he first time
!ss than that
i_r .„,
mluotion for a father to bo placed in ; hi. only daughter had dared to cherish
an attachn.ont without first arguing the ma'*, • vro and con with him. On
learning these starthng f.cts, ho lost no tr .e ■■ . assuring her of th.- impro-
pnetynol to say wick, iness, of her conduct, hut finding that the young lady
posse. ,od a spark of hi. own spirit, ho did all that a good faib.r could do on
such occa-ions, gru„.hlod bitterly f>om m..rning to night, and .wore upon his
honor that she was the most unnatural girl he ever yet hoard ot. The next
day, Edward happening to call with a volume ol (fin - Man of Feeling" in
his pocket, which he had borrowed a week before, and which ,t was necessary
to his character for punctuality that he should return, Colonel Vernon took
him into the parlor, and, without further ceremony, t', us addressed bim ;
"So, Sir, you have been making love to my daughter, i ihid."
•' I believe I have, Sir."
" And are you not ashamed of yourself for doingso without my permission ^"
" Not at all, sir."
"Mercy on us, here's a pretty follow; ho first comes into a gentlemun'g
house, endeavors to run away with his daughter, an, then, when her father
accuses him, has actually the impudence to confess ii o his face." .. But I
tell you what, young man," added the Colonel, " if yoM can't call here with-
out talking your d d nonsense to Laura, you must quit ; I am sorry for
the alternative, but so it must be. If, however"—
Ho was going on at this rate, working himself senten> o by sentence, into
a most prodigious passion, when Edward cut short hi^ rhetoric, and, ia
that frank, ofT-hand manner peculiar to him, informed him of his prospects
m life, his connexion, and more especially of his wish to gain an interest in
the heart of Lnura ; when, on mentioning his father's name, and incidentally
his rambles on the continent, Colonel Vernon interrupted him with —
" Daubigny, Daubigny, I thought when I first heard it I knev the name, and
pray, Sir, is your father the same romantic gentleman whom met eight and
twenty years ago at Florence, and with whom I was unfortu..ate enough to
be engaged in a duel?"
"I have heard him mention the circumstances of a duel, b t never with
whom it was fought, nor did I know till now that he was roma: iic— "
« Egad it must be him-sure enough it's him; give me your h u.d, my fine
fellow, you and I are sworn friends from this moment. Laura " he added,
shouting till the house rung again, «« Laura, I say, why the deu. o don't you'
come down .tairs ; here have I been bawling for the last half h .ur, (it was
just one hMlf'ni'""»o '■>" Tfl/imo—i'., .-i. \ ... i .. . , .
J . «_.- ... „^„„,u- vratuij,; ajiu yciyou reiuse lu t uuo.'
t
b
n
W
ca
tw
ba;
sot
chi
Tne
cou
me.
join
stor
not
of I
20 THE AUTHOR.
The poor girl soon appeared, her eyes red with weeping, and her whole
figure the very emblem of sorrow, as she stood timidly with her hand fixed^
upon the brass knob of the door. Her father, with a smile, desired her to go
and welcemc Edward, but finding that she rather distrustfully hesitated, ex-
claimed aloud, " why. you unnatural girl, here I order you to shake hands
with your own chosen friend, and you stand as if you we-j bewitched.
« I am afraid, papa — "
« Afraid, what the devil are you afraid of, he won't eat you. and with
this encouraging remark he advanced towards her, joined her hand in that of
Edward's, and then acting in his usual abrupt way, that provided they could
gain Mr. Daubigny's consent to their marriage, it might take place as soon
as they pleased, walked into his study, and left them undisturbed to their
meditations. , r ii
There is no moment when a man looks so like a fool as when formally
declaring himself under circumstances similar to the present. Edward
fidgeted with his hat, shuffled his right leg backwards and forwards, called
Laura -Madam," to which she replied by "Sir;" observed that it was a
remarkably fine day, notwithstanding that it had rained all the morning;
and in fact, fell himself cmbarassed to such an extreme degree, that even
Laura, despite her confusion, could not forbear smiling. This of course^
made him look ten limes sillier than ever, and he would have committed I
know not how many absurdities, had h. not burst into a violent fit of laughter. .
The sight of such unusual merriment struck forcibly on the muscles of a
black servant, who happened to be entering the parlor at the time, so without
further ado he also grinned from ear to car with ecstasy, and with infinitely
more reli.h from the circumstance of his having nothing to laugh at, until
at last the whole house, catching the infection, were heard gigghng in all
"^Tudto, gentle reader, behold our young Freshman the declared lover of "
Laura Vernon. He wrote to his father, requesting him to consent to his
marriage, informing him that his whole happiness was bound up m it, and
that he would suffocate himself in the Ouso if he refused ; and, m short, so ^
worked upon the old gentleman's feelings that, with some tew stipulations,
such as waiting until he was of age, &c., he contrived to carry his point
His amusements meanwhile at Cambridge continued pretty much at the usual
average of expense, excepting only that his tailor's bill grew larger, h.s wine
merchant's something less, and Mr. uee s account for ^^au^^s .».,, — -
There is indeed a certain keen atmosphere in stables that wondrously im-
I
THE AUTHOR. 2I
proves the appetite of horse, ; so much so, that their feed is generally twice
as expensive there as if they were victualled in one's own private Meux a
cunous fact, which I leave to the solution of the natuaralist
To resume : The October term was now nearly at an end, when Edward,
did Yr, f "^^K '"' ''' "" ""'^ " "°^''"^ °f "-^--' -J -hen he
did, had found him more shy and reserved, with less of the " Oh Lord " in
his speech than usual, was surprised one morning by a visit from that
his vol' n7 T\ u'' "'"""' '°"^^^^' "^^ unexpectedly embarrassed.
his voice faltered, and he seemed to wish to rev.al something that he ye
he"'b"gan. '^ '^°"' ''^"'' " ^'"''' " '^^'^ ' ^''"^^^"' '^^>^' ^«^'"
« Yes^^I suppose you intend to ride as usual." replied Daubigny
the fac IS. I find walking much more delightful; at moon-light, too, espe
xially, there is something so soft— so— " ^
"Ahem ! Ahem ! so sentimental you would say : I understand, you're in
love ; nay, never blush, man, it's what we must all come to "
'^ Good God. Ned, how can you be so coarse 1 I never saw any one so
completely altered in all my life." ^
" Poor fellow," sighed Daubigny to himself, « he is far gone indeed "
T en turning towards Handiman. .Well, old boy." he said.'!" ! t
helped, and so I wish you joy. But pray who is the happy fa r v^
« Her name is— " ^^^
" No."
« What then, in the name of God ? out with it."
"Why. if you must know, her name is-" and he covered his face with
bis hands— « Jemima Potts." ^"'^
.ol7fr~'''^'r;r'' '''''' " ^^^ ^^ ™y ^"^^'"^- «°- <^ouU you. my
go fellow, wit ali your senses about you. fall in love with a Jemima P ttsT
Potts_Oh Lord! Oh Lord J-to quote your own words; I'm positively
ashamed of the name." positively
lor a better. To-morrow morning— "
"Miss Potts will he, Mra u^^.v. „
Miss PotU!" ^"."u..-.. jou ,.,eani a„u pray „ho is this
" She is .he daughler of a worlby PubHcan, vco- much above his .il„aU„„
22
THE AUTHOR.
en a..„re you at ChOcrlon. I „el her for .he fi«, time when yoa and
I, JUS. one month «„ce, wen. bo..ing .,ge.her on .he Can,. I „ar.hen
..rnck w,.h her beau.y a»d aimplioi.y. b„. IHi.e knew ,he treaeure .h.. t
h.cl .n .ha. g,fted mind. Oh, .0 hear her talk of re.iremen. and a a e
just such a one as my father's, (.he elder Handiman wa. a weal, y m , ' .i
Swallowfield) ,t would almost make you cry. Then, too, .he is so fond
J.ct,m ofseducon, 3 ™...," right away to the end without making .
*' Faith she's a downright miracle "
" She is, indeed ; but, however, to cut short all further remark. I have com,
to rcues. your presence at Ches.rton church, to-morrow at igh. 0^
one would no. be ,00 public you know on occasions of this aortf and tre."
•' Agreed-agreed," i„.errup.ed Edward, with a smile, " I will be .here
and ao. Bob good bye to you, for I sea Gee yonder, walking my a dom
towards Mag alen Bridge," with which abrupt hint he shook Handiman by
the hand and then proceeded at a rapid pace along the road to Huntingdon'
The next mornmg the whole bridal party, consisting of Jacob Potts the
t em a.rr° 'h TT' '"^ ''"'°"' '"^ '""'^™"' -" "" "ero f u„d
.h m s.and,ng bes,de .he al.ar in Chesterton church. The ceremo;y was
an thTerr" 7 ""' "'™°"'" '" """"' '" '° '^^ ''''■» t""" -
ISO w r n ° °™' '?"' '"^ """^ "' '" ">'' f"-'' ">e bridegroom
g tated save the parson, who being a jolly, red-faced little fellow, and one
th t from ,s sleek condition seemed feeding for a bishopric, n ver on e
vouchsafed to shed a tear. But the worst of ,he whole set was be husband
for h,s nervousness was .0 extreme that he had actually forgotten .0 e .J
neckcloth, and even when he approached to imprint on .he cheek oh" oung
brtde a husband s chaste embrace, ho very nearly kissed .he clerk by mts.ake
^ Thu ended .h,s holy ri.e, and jus. .hree days after i.a consumma.ion an
.ns,nua.,ng foo.man, eviden.ly belonging .0 aome one newly married aid
tjpon Daub,g„y-a table a small piece of .ha, nondescrip. article, caUed we
d g cake, accompanying .he donation wi.h .woembossed cards, ovingyTed
.OECher by wh, e r.bbon, and bearing upon .heir .uperfices .. With Mr! and
P^Im "d r°r '="7""^""-" ^"^ ""= -' i--y eaten, .he ard
put behind the firn. nnrl ««o^., «~„-:i.i '
n u- L . ■ •' ^°=='"'^ Jcspoct Deiiiii liJUs shown lo his friend
JJaub,gny .hough,, .ha. as .en days now elapsed, he was fully auth^rilld "„'
If
THE AUTHOR.
2a
V
paying a visit to the newly married couple. Accordingly, he one fine morning
ordered out his horse, the roads being impervious to a tandom, and after
threading a variety of cross roads, and fioundering through as many bogs, he
arrived safe and sound at his friend'o lovely retreat beside the Lincoln Fens.
On mentioning his name he was forthwith shown into the drawing room,
where, seated on a sofa, with their hands clasped together, their eyes fixed,
her's upon his nose, and his upon her auburn ringlets, our wonderingCantab
beheld these cooing turtles. They rose confusedly at his approach, but in a
few minutes this embarrassment wore off, and they then gave loose to a variety
of innocent endearments, such as shinning each other under the table, pouting,,
smiling and suddenly drawing back with reserve, which however graceful;
they might appear in his wife, sate rather awkwardly on a great hulk like
Handiman. Their jokes also, though somewhat dull, were yet remarkably:
touching, and it gratified the benevolent feelings of Edward, to find that sen^
timent so far from diminishing greatly increased their appetite a fact which
led him to conclude that marriage, like a glass of bitters, is the finest possible
stomachic. In the course of the evening Handiman happening accidentally
to venture a remark upon his present happiness, and the virtues of his «« angel
wife," the following dialogue took place in whispers between them :
♦« Did you speak, Robert 1"
«» I did, Jemima."
" And what did you say, love ?"
♦' I said that you were an angel sweet."
"Is that all, dearest?"
" Is not that enough, darling V
And immediately a look that would have melted a heart of stone, flashccJ
straight forward from the eyes of one to the other. So absorbed, in short,
were the young couple in each other's society, and so perfectly indifferent ta
the presence of a third person, that Edward, finding that he was likely to get
nothing but the satisfaction arising in a virtuous mind from the sight of
another's happiness, remounted his horse, quitted the bogs to the right, and
after scampering over whole acres of buiirushes, discovered himself, to hi*
great joy, once again on the road to Cambridge. On reaching Trinity, he
found two letters from Caversham ; one from his father, requesting him', as
Term was now just over, to hasten home ; the other from no less a personage
than " ITfir Mnipstv " r>pno/M-:).;..~ „~._„_ _.l__...' .• . .... ...
V-— ..-7 i ••.^•..f~-i:jg amoijgutnyriiijiiuiiaj lora lootnaeije, which
he had accidentally mentioned.
On finishing this curious epistle, Edward sat down to answer it, an.
24
THE AUTHOR.
I
«-. he mounted .,.;„,;;, r;'^ !■;,''"■'»"> -'"""-r'Xe vac.,i„„ ,„ Mr
»ix hour, of hi, ,„i„i„, Gr„ rin I f T""' ""=''"' «'«"'• i-ane „i,H„
Reading coacheMo O ^Zm 0„ '"^ "n ''"™'' "^ °°° »' '^° """'e
wUh .he create,. Jalighl. . «„ M 1!.". ? ""'' ''°""' "' "^ ""'-d
B«M he had acquired ,n„re.i;'l'~">'>''»-ff«-d, hi„a.her
Cambridge cu. about him All „ .'h , '"'' """ '■° '•^'' 6"" 'he 'ru.
hin.-lf, who could n„.T ,p a I'l 'T "°" '""'='' "«P' ■"" «»" ''b
different to Mr,. Sarah. ^ '"' "" '" """"^ '» " "ay eomowha,
;r;::r,Lr;„trit:zi^;:rr ;: ';; r -- '» -«
he remembered perfectly well the dJji.ul .J "*"^"^ °^^"^^^' ^hat
Sracerul. and i„,ere,ti„:, he ^^ nl ri^Cl Z;;^. t" '""t^ '"^ '' '"-■
-;jfh::rr:iret^;:r^^
or the other." ^'^ Justified m forming an opinion, either one way
-dam, i, a ,„re .nd .a,t „g ^ ;"'*;t"^ "°"^ °' ■"""-- "--,
late,, follows-" * ' "'' "■' '"'" "ho, trusting to her die-
ha:e';r;dt;,^:nX„?reZr, «" ---.a™ almo. ,ureZ
"hrn:::^ 'rnee::o\re:t;„7'^''t' -"^ '"- "'"^— '«
original. ,o,„rewa, Mr,. S.rh„l::r A"" "'°"^" '""™'""
the world (meaning CaverahamV.n "'/""''"""'""'"''• Ihu, giving
and previously manufacrured ^^ On h" '"' ""^'"'"^ "^ -''' "- "ale!
hin>selfwitha "pahaw," injicivr „f '"""T '""'''•"' '" "»'«■>'«>
»ouid allow hi» .0 di,;,„;„:r,' !:'"""'?'■ «>"'™p' a, hi, „»„„«„
' ■■' " "■"' "»""> a'Wreased himself ,o Edward.
1
THE AUTHOR. 25
" What, with respect to the vice and the virtue," replied our hero who
had no yet forgotten Mr. Pope's el.borae opinion, on'that head '
„!».. ^ ^''•.5""!"« "«"! I informed you, that the University was a
place where vice ,s shewn in its utmost deformity, and where vlrtlin
youth, for all that delightful age, the passions—"
again, I heard that very sentence in your sermon upon time."
indtnTn' I, f" ^""°"^' " '■''"""«'" '^"8" f"» '- -". anJ an
iXtlfo-f M^Sa::;""'''' ^"= '"^ -'» -""- "'^-^ '» -^^^ — ^
Edward had now been three days returned, and having paid the cus.
..mary „s.ts to his neighbors, and received the congrat'fa. n of a
s hoo, haunts , for u was there among the ruins of Reading Abbey tht
a^SDicr 7 '"u ■""" ""' '""'»''= ■' -- «■-. .00, uTde 'he
reetertheli'^'n """ ""T"''' '" ^"''^"^ ""» -"- "ow „
sweeten the butors of learning, and make a lesson of Horace as interesting
as a f.,ry tale ; that he had been first taught how to appreciate the v lu!
o ducatton. H,s time indeed, of late, had been far otlferwise empi y d
but the germ was still within him, and nothing but the sun of nrudrl
was wanting to mature it into fruit. prudence
While our Cantab stood gating with thoughtful eye upon scenes so
dear to h.s youth, the shouts of some hundred little urchins were heard
lit sr tk' y r'"" p"^-^'°»"^ ^^ •'-• how":;; ; :. ;
fa es b , "'r,"'' '"" ' '■'=" '»'"'"=» "''"" '■"' -ddenedTcir p ayfu
."apba 1 an7 ""'f '^''' """ '"^^ ™> '^' '°- '° "-ket, some to
trap ball, and some-the more dignified and commanding_to a solitary
n::e;:Lz':;t"h.rtar;'^^^^^^^^^^ t— ------s
Zn ^'7; '"'^''^';" Itself. IS nothing ; it is the mind alone that .ives
26
THE AUTHOR.
so many years ho had jJX ? *'° """' '"'» '"^'"^ '<»
CHAPTER III.
T/.v' Christmas festivities wpr« ««,., „* » .
commenced, and the streets ofT IT . '° '"*^ ' '^' "P""^ *^^"^ ^^^
turned of />n....^ i*t '"usiy inirouuceu. Ihe conversation
turned of course, upon Wranglers, Medallists and Prize-men for Ih.
0:r,°" T '"""' '° "'■= P"«' -^ »" CambridTe was"'„ uloar
ass?s^ I ' " '°°'"'' ''^ '"""' ' «°°'' '»""" "-'ins for hi™ a„7 to
iker, „ • ZZT'' ^°''=''-"'"''"' »""""- college-cook, tailor, shoo-
courteous Mr Gee „::,;"r°" T'""'!"' ""'"""^ '■°"°' '""" "■'
that during his abse'ee ^ ''^ "''^°'7^'"'"""'- •"» «^P informed him
s,mntom J ' ' ™"""'' '""' '""'n particularly urgent • a
heha 1 "77"'"=- »n their part, „hich quite paralv^ed Lw!rd for
that sum would bo more than sutScient to answer all demands : whereas
t7:z:ir "'"'" "'"" '"-^ """"^ '° °-"'^" ■««-. -o-^d
alonara^rdeT' ""-"r"' ''""'^'''' " "'--«-' ^ circumstances
alone had mado hrmso; but as this trait, however characteristic wo„I,I
Moa," •" T ""' '""""^ ''"""''' ■''' "" -"P^I'^J '» keep t^ilse If
Mea„t,me the news of his arrival spread like wildfire throughout Can^ridl
and tho very neU morning his rooms were beseiged by tradesmen a .'
ascertain by way of conversation.') the >if,ff^t^ of ♦h-'- -p--' --
Oce was particularly alTectiona.e-; so mu-ch-^c-th.rh^r rb;;: ,t
•!
' 1 1
THE AUTHOR.
2T
iroublesome ; but who-i„ the name of .11 .hat i, chari.ablc-c.„ find
n" ;" °7 7 '"" ' ^'""'' ""' "° =■-"" '" -li'P-' o„!he
Zrl', r ? °" "'"''°'"'" "'"■ P"'"""''" •"" "hi"'-, having
con.r ved ,0 c ear h,a room for .he present, he walked on .owards.hose of
"rbM.ed:;r' '""' '° '''°" - '^ "''"' "— "-
On en.ering the apar.men. he found .ha. gen.Iem.n briskly engaged in
Soeralea i and was so s.rock wi.h his humor, his versa.ili.y, his informa-
.on, and elass.o enthusiasm, .hat he left him <,ui.e an aUerl man Th t
same evemng he .ook down his Pope, Shakespeare, and Mil.on, now some
wha. soiled wuh dus.; read wi.h rap.ure the Comus of one, .he Temple
of Fame of .he „.her, and .he Tempest of the third ; and r solved, eom
what m,ght, to try his hand at the next University Pri.e Poem.
n ove and learnmg our newborn poet applied himself straight forward
to the task, and w,.hm a fortnigh., during which .ime he had paid six
long v,s,,s .0 Hu„.i„gdo„, he had not only achieved the sage's demise
but even conveyed him to Olympus, in a chariot drawn by the Musetso
. sorbed was he in this new poe.ic undertaking, that he never once thought
of Hand.man ; and u was not until he met Larkins one evening at chapel
that he even recollected his existence. To make amends for such neg e«
to"uTh"" " r ''"''"^'"■" ' ""'• '"' --"i-sly. after floundering
through as many bog, as when he last travelled that road, he arrived in hi!
usual pickle, at the cottage.
Connubial bliss ! if there be augh. on earth tha. man may call divine it
sthe pure and perfect happiness resulting from this enviable state. I U
h s which kniti! our affections so closely to the world ; hallows in our eyes
that o.,o dear spot we call our home; soothes us in our anguish, reioTcel
w. h us ,„ our prosperity ; and above .11, takes care that our stockings re
well aired and mended. His mind, softened even lo .ears, with .he o
psive reflections, our hero passed .hrough his uxorious friend's haU
but, alas! on ascending towards the drawing room, was somewhat sur
Z:L: "" """"'"^ "^'°«"° ="™^ °" -'" P-P-'i»-a »!-
" Bn;?r,f "'^"'m '■ J'"''™""' ' ''" y""' >-°" ^'"'" •1° "0 '"'h thing."
" But I tell you, .Mr. Handiman. I will."
" But 1 say, you shan't."
" But I say, I will."
28
THE AUTHOK.
" But yoii shant."
"But Twin."
Other alias's^ „» )• ! ' "' ®"»Pson, Mrs Orm/// ««"J'man, she
e««di„g,y „„ o4d \ * ""'"'• "■"> """"eat i„ ZX "''"
second visit from Mr r . ''^'^""ence, Daubiffnv vv««
*' "Pon the hoZ of '• ''^°' '" ^^^'"^ polite hat LIT '"'^"'"^ ^^ *
'"oney, and 17 ' S^^ntleman," that L was n ^ T"' '^^"'^^ h''"'
-e;;t::^?;:x;^-ediate pay^ei^, r^jsr" f ^^ ^-
^"tor by his neg ect of hT"' "'^'^"'^^^ ^^ ^^ absenceTr T'T""''
fcad earned an ° " "■"'"■' "««■■ revisit T, , '""' '" ""' !>«
away «•„„ Cambriil^ „„ u.-.
13-7 ">s ma
THK AUTHOK. g?
road to literary distinction in the ractrouoli, Ti • i ■
he neit arranged ail thincs for hi. 1 ""« '"'"■'"s accom|,Iisb.d.
n..s.er pioce which he 3e no d„ Tp 't ''''"' 7 "'' "''"•■ ^"■"'
purchase,) settled as favorably L h cou „^rr""^" "°'""' '"" '"
i80 for himself; and .hen for the I "^ r '"''"''''"<"«. leaving „„1,
wards Hnntingdo'n ; his m „;:,!, ''''^l^dT" '" """''' ""^ "■■
slight share of co:,ceit resullin,, f ^ "■'"°'"''' f"''''. »nJ no
. Doctor Johnson hoX: ' I'd^a: r ^'1 '"""T'"'-
•i".e (however confident we may bo in Min »■, ""'"""^ '" ""^ '"'
gloom. Edward fel, this truT „„, T^ ' "'""'" '"'«" "f
•o-rd, Huntingdon, ad t iid "T " T" "'""^ ""^ ""-" ">°-
again, his mind bega; tosr.nVh , ?'"'' '"'"'' '""'^ ''" ">«•»
path, even the dul^il, ge „f p" , ;'"^"'''."'" every object in hi,
Godmanchester. as fri d from l" ^ h°e"': """ """" "''«"•"-'
was on a fi„e January evening.hrt bT 7 u""" "• P"' ''" ""• "
and from thence turned d wn!ow,s heTuV "''' "" "■" 0°-
flowed silently beside him, the u! wa erwUh":"," T'"' '"' "'"
and the general desertion of the «! ^^'" ""■'" ">^ "■!"<'.
He was now hastening owardsheT.:/""","' '"' ''"'' °' '°-"»™-
had so often bounded hisTamb' » ' " "'"'"" l»PP- "■■= "ind-w
sparkled with more than a ' "" '"■"''''"• "" ooun.enance
hound at .hewaistbyasin le h nTwtr""^" ''«'" """'"-S J-.,
aufficiently parted at the throat dtp" y iX , "° "."°"'' "•" ^"'^
"he enchantment of her figure. ° w!7. '""^r'^ P^P"'"""'. increased
her glossy ringlets with a smile "so vo 'b ' ''"' """"'"« ''«'^''
new tale of scandal or g.ierv h' / ^ ^ t"""" "' '"''■ '"'' P'^^ "hat
for your absence V ' " ^°" ''""»'" "'"> ^O" 'o n..ke amends
•• Thf vlryT^ ' "■"' "r '"'' "''"• "" " " '^'» °f »oe-"
.a.e.f„r,t:Ta "tt :„V7hrrn'"°"" ^"="^° """^- -"■
-re away, and that you'll a'llow la C, ^r^'^"'" '"'' '"- ^'»'
"Just three days." b "me—
" Well no matter," she added, wirh . m...u ., .. .
uateriaily from what it is in society " bnt'Z"' " "T '" '*'^""'^' ^'^*^^'
^'^^^ ' ^"^' however, let me hear this tale
30
28
'i'ilK AUTUOK
"Bu
*'Bu
And
Daublj
but his
that yc
ho had
to who
limitci)
out a
had b(
other i
up all
moon,
excee<
with I
contra
were
what
the fa
In
are ir
little
Trini
At)
secor
*'upc
mone
were
Tuto
to cc
and <
of hi
T<
fath(
«npi
wrot
had
rece
»»
••No, madam," replied Edward w^th
-■::;rjr ;;:;:;-»: :-~... .... ., .^..
particularly striking." '"'"'' "P°" "^y ^v«rd ; (hat ocean of life is
""5^es, I (hought you would like it" , r .
•■fvo;;;::' "7 '■'""'''-'--.eh enough."
^ocj s sake, madam, be silpnt " , i- , „
P.".e. proceed... i,. „, ,J„., "t^L'^:. r"""' """ "-• "- »
'»•»' 'ho world i, pU.,„j ,. „,; '7 "7 "f """• He h,n l.,,J We„d,, ,„ ^,
•"» "- Pcrirt. Bu, even amid h^de n1 " '° '" '""''• ""'« "■"« W.
."".K and innocence, m„„j ,i e :1^ r'-^^t '" "" "" '"-""- °
Ije forgo, everything. ,he „„r,J, ^.h ", i T " "'"'= '" "" P'-ance,
"ve'l for l,er alone. Oh. never c n h a "! ''''"««<'"". •«- shut out ; he
o.n woman he again ,„ dear all'lZ": rirV'^ ""' """ "--". -'«
-e, Laura," he continued with incrlal' '"' •■" ""' ^" "•»*
oT "":: 1""" "'' ""- "M n.e,war,i :'"?.'""" " '"' ''"'■ ""° -
on earth he cared for, „aa wooed in th. ""''"' ""' <■"'>■ ">ing
— ™ ia now pa^aed a.ay, and he too'""" °' '"' P™"""^' i^"' 'Z
""••east from aoci.ty, can he aue ZV '■ '" ^°'"' '"' ""• A beggar an
■i-„ inhi, di,.rei,aa .he^l,- er i ;Zi;^"'"7 '» ""P^ ■»« .t I
he »,ll be ,0 her what he has been .„ hi '"""■" '"' ' ^'>- ""i-I •'
f« « ..me, and then, when „. lonlrt'T', ° """ '°^' '° "» ""•^'' "i-h
8»"an. In .hi, dilemm.. Lanra wh!. " , ' '° "' ""°»"' "'"= =»n'y thing
^ut that
eggar, an
she will
, indeed !
fled with
and for-
n in his
feeh'ngs
I behalf.
TIIK 'AUTllo
31
•' And do you, Lmirii, do you pity him ] sw t, nwectebi iirl. oh
but that word nguiri, and I Hhull indeed bo huppy."
••You, Edward— you — Abnighty God! and in il to your tale then that I
have been listening ?"
•• It is, love ; in one whort word, I atn ruined, and am now come to bid
you furowcll. Any slight bold that I may hitherto have had upon your heart
I hero for ever reHi>»n, for a bogyar — "
•« Ungenerous Edward, and do you think that wo are thus to part 1 Do
you bold my love so cheap as to think it can be thus ea-ily transferred 1
No ! dear as you were to mo before, you are now a thousand limes dearer.
Let who will rule the future I cannot forget the past, ft is hrre," she added,
her eyes swimming in tears, ♦• here that you are beloved, in this heart your
image is shrined as in a grave, never thence to be withdrawn till death."
The tears of Edward now flowed without control : •« I am not worthy of
you," ho said, «• I arr, a ruined man, and all linked with me must perish
But yet, Laura, if I am indeed so dear to you, do not quite forget me." *
«• Forget you, Edward, never ; night and day will I pray unceasingly lor
your return ; I will watch by the road side to catch even the first glimpse of
your form; and when agaui we meet, and again I see that eye, now sunk
in gloom, lighted up, aa it should ever be, with smiles, I will say I have
lived long enough. But you won't go, Edward, will you 7" and the lovely
girl looked up beseechingly iit bis face.
'« I must, Laura ; circumstances, no matter what, drive me far from hence,
and all I have now to request, is that at least we may converse by letter."
Then drawing her gently towards him, « God bless you, love," be added,
"the sun is setting, and I can stay no longer."
•' Go then, dear Edward, since it must be so, but wherever you are, think
— Oh think of Laura : think that morning and evening you are uppermost in
hqr mind — that she never reads — or walks — or sings — bnt you, in fancy, are
beside her, and that if you once forget her, she must bo ever wretched."
At this instant the hall clock struck five : Edward started at the sound,
pressed Laura convulsively to his breast — and then rushed in agony from the
cottage. As he passed along the garden, he saw her still standing at the
drawing room window ; her eyes fixed upon his receding figure, and her
arms stretched out as if to ble»s him. Suddenly the servant came in to close
the shutters ; her lingering (orin then slowly disappeared, while, with mind
subdued by this afiecting interview, her lover pursued his road back to Cam-
bridge.
fi
32
TMK AIJTJIOK.
" New,, „,,., „„;;;:" • "■ ^""'""'«° " "• •" "p-" «i."". ».••
•' Oh, 8ir, Mr. Larkins— "
"What of him?"
" I« dead, Sir. ho died this very evening just-"
Before he could finish the sentence Edward rushed from .K , .
away towards Ncvill's Court • on 1 .1 "" '^® ''°°'"' ^««''ed
and cold as so.e dcd st ^e b h^Tr'"^f ' °"^ '" ^'« -" ^«^' -'-
had seen high in hea th Tn ^ "'°'"' '"' " '"^'^ '^-^ «««. he
had been, itLl^ ^ nr^r'aTD^^ '"' ''T''' ^'"""^"^-'- "^
invited ; and, being so.ewhT r^ir;;"^^:?^ '0^^ ^ r^^
other friends shorllv after fh^ n?«»k °"' ^'^h a fevir
self in Iho open air dcnosi...! h- l '■°"'"' ""<'re«»«'l him.
placed hi, cloL, e'ck I li r "^f '"''""' "' "" '"'•' "' ° ''"'h.
workmen who were relur„i„„ , -.i, , " ''"'""'"':'> by «»me
finding .„ .ddr::: in "x L'rHrr '™""" "''""''''■ -" «•->».
remedy wa, resor.ed .o-buHn vlin '"'"""^ ''°"''' """' ^™'^
s.it edT::" .hr ;as:?„:hf' "."• •"" '^'>^'" -'» «--•» ^--u- already
awful change, he fallvlr":';,^^'''''";"'' ^P«"«l-3» he heheld .his
».n.c.b„.l, r^::^:^^:;:'^:'' f™„d repea.ed.,h, hi.
•ho morning wa. a sen^elca, clod a. Xht' anl , ' ^r ''""''' ^''""' "'
that myslerious eternilv wh J , "T'-""' "'"""^^ '"""^J a portion of
in dea,h. " ° ' """'" " '^' 8«ve, and wboae life begin, bu,
Cambridge .o .^Ce ^o 'Jl r: l^;-!'- """'^ - ^i..
'e.ol.ed never ,o ,ee him „„,i, he had wTped 1^ Z\ """"^ """• '"
recolleclion of hi, pa,t .ran,gre,sion, H f! 7,1" ^ " """''°'' ""^
yet alrong in one wild .\mZ . ^ "' "'"'"'"''> '«•""■'■ b"'
Which heia, roid ;i at.™r °;' ■°- ' '""'"' "'^'' '- •'-'■ "-'
-w ...i.r.., .^ „,^. entrance oi his Gyp, with the in.
THE A (IT HO 11.
33
telligcnce that it wan past »ix o'clock, and that the Leed'« Uoach wns already
■t the liagle & Chi!',
The day was ju«!. Dreaking aa our adventurer, lor the laM lime, passed
through the Cireat Gates of Trinity. The lamfw at the (liflerent Colfeges
were already dimmed in their Hockcts, and nothing could he heard hut the
Mond of waggons pasning slowly down the Peas Market; or the gruff whistle
of Iho ostlers in the inn yard as they harnessed fresh horses to the c«.ich. In
a few minutes all was ready, the passengers resumed their scats, and Edward
had no sooner taken his, than the magnificent King's Cliapel, with tho thin
grey haze of the morning hanging in a vapory wreath uhout its towers, passed
him swiftly hy like a dream, and tho last glimpse of Camhrjjjje thus lost in
distance, he felt (and pride mingled with the thought) that he was alone
on the face of the earth.
CHAPTER IV.
On the receipt of his son's letter, Mr. Daubigny instantly set out for Cam-
bridge, enraged, in the first place, with Edward's folly and extravagance, but
somewhat softened in the next, by his singular resolution; which, however
Wild and romantic it might appear, yet squared with the old gentleman's own
chivalrous disposition. " He's an extravagant dog, it must ».e confessed," he
repeated more than once to himself, " but the boy has some redeeming traits
about him after all, and though I'll make him smart for his conduct, yet it is
such as may be soon forgiven." With this disposition, he reached Cam-
bridge, where, if the praises of a creditor are to be taken as proofs of a debtor's
worthiness, the lond father had every reason to be proud of his son's. His
tutors indeed spoke rather slightingly of his abilities, but what of that ? Mr.
Gee swore, "upon the honor of a gentleman," that he was a very pretty
judge of horseflesh ; Dickinson, the fat college cook, said that he never met
with a more promising critic on a good dinner; and even Mr. Gosling, the
confectioner, condescended to praise his taste on ices. On discharging all
these exorbitant accounts, Mr. Daubigny next proceeded to Huntingdon,
where he stayed a whole week— just long enough to convince him, that Col!
Vernon was a friend to be esteemed, and Laura admirably fitted in every
respect, to become some day or other, his daughter-in-law.
c
34
THE AUTHOK.
But to return to our adventurer: absorbed in visions of poetic fame, he
pursued his route tc the metropolis, and reached Water Lane, where the
coach stopped, at the very hour that his father arrived at Cambridge. The
first evening he spent in a dark, smoky dungeon, called the Coffee-room, but
«?arly the next morning sallied forth in quest of lodgings; and after threading
Jis many streets, lanes, and alleys, as an old clothes-man, he at last found
himself in Tooke's TJourt, where, for eight shillings per week, he discovered
a very creditable attic ; dirt cheap, as his landlady assured him ; particularly
when he had the liberty of dining with the family at twelve o'clock (off a
baked leg of mutton, or some such atrocity,) on Sundays. His fellow-
iodgers, for the house was full, consisted, in the first place, of a little thin
radical, who, having been fourteen years a prisoner in France, had imbibed
all its revolutionary opinions, and detailed them every Sunday, by way of
desert, to the landlady and her accomplished family ; secondly, of a senti-
mental young cockney, in a haberdasher's counting-house, a ravenous
«ievourer of novels, with one only topic of conversation, his recent trip to
North Wales; and thirdly, of thn landlady herself— a gentlewoman sadly
given to liquor. In addition to se, I should observe, that Mrs. Scroggins
.(the hostess) was the prolific authoress of four children, whose sweet little
prattle daily afforded the delighted lodgers every possible variety of melody.
On taking possession of his garret, he lost no time in arranging the « Death
of Socrates" for publication ; after which he ordered dinner at five o'clock,
(an hour unheard of in Tooke's Court,) and then sallied forth with a letter
of introduction from Sowerby to a distinguished bookseller in the Row. On
sending up his note, he was surprised to find that the bibUopolist, so far from
rushing down stairs in ecstasy to greet him, actually suffered him to wait ten
minutes in the warehouse, and even when he condescended to see him,
treated him with as much nonchalance as if he was a common man.
" Much obliged, Mr.— what's your name,— Dobbins I believe, by your kind
offer; sorry, however, that our present engagements compel us to decline it."
<' Perhaps," interrupted Edward, drawing the manuscript from his bosom,
« if I were to read you some passages you might — "
« Not for the world, young man, I should never forgive myself for putting
yon to so much inconvenience — "
« The labor we delight in, physick's pain," ieplied Edward with a smile.
«« Good, very good — a happy idea that — must have cost you some pains —
physick — very promising thoaght indeed ;" and the areat man assumed a
THE AUTHOR. 35
countenance which, but for its utter stupidity, might have been considered
as highly impressive.
Daubigny drew back in despair, " so then you refuse to publish the - Death
of Socrates," he said.
" Decidedly," replied the bookseller, - but no doubt your talents will else-
where meet with encouragement ; that simile about the physick is so strikingly
original ; he ! he ! he ! physic, very good-Byron all over, he ! he '" and
he bowed Edward down stairs with all the politeness imaginable.
Thoughtful and disappointed, our hero returned to his lodgings ; but when
he recollected hov^ many other booksellers there were in London who would
no doubt, gladly publish Socrates, he felt somewhat reconciled, and reached
Tooke 8 Court with a true poetic appetite for dinner. In a few minutes Mrs.
Scroggins made her appearance, bearing in one hand a pot of porter, and in
the other, an antique table cloth, which, being originally white, but since
mended with blue worsted, had a very happy effect. Her eldest daughter
followed with a rumpsteak, one half of which was boiled to rags, while the
other was downright raw, and Poppet closed the procession, carrying in her
infantine hands a two-penny loaf, in the sides of which her dear little fingers
had dug five distinct holes. With what appetite he might, Edward sate down
to this repast, but happening thoughtlessly to throw the porter out of the
window, it lighted upon the head of a dandy, who was passing underneath
and who instantly thundered at the door to demand satisfaction.
" Hallo Mrs. What.de'ye-call'em, some scoundrel in your house has been
throwing his damned rubbish upon my coat."
- Scoundrel," replied the indignant Scroggins, » who do you call scoundreP
no more a scoundrel than you are with all your finery :" and she banged the
street door in his face. Edward meantime having, by some miracle, digested
his steak descended from his exalted climate, and being unable, lor the pre-
sent, to do more in the way of amendment with Socrates, made the best of
his way towards the Haymarket Theatre.
In the pit, next to him, set a young gentleman of a most promising and
poetic aspect; so much so. that Daubigny resolved to address him. when to
his inconceivable delight, (and no little awe) he found that he was an Epic
Poec, who was to start in a few days with four and twenty books on the
subject of "Alfred the Great." Between these two a league was instantly
struck up; Edward invited Mr. Simkins to Tnnk^'« Oo-* -^-i iv*- o.._ . . ^
in return, invited Edward to Bedford Street, promising, at the same time, to
introduce him to a nest of Poets, all Epic and otherwise. A sort of desultory
36
THE AUTHOR.
conversation was then kept up between them, which was closed on the part
of Simkins by a beautiful quotation from his own Alfred, to the Goddess of
Liberty, who was daringly depicted as an angel with a red face, coming down
from heaven to our great English monarch, and revealing to him, in a vision,
the future glories of Brittannia. Now this Brittannia happened unluckily
to be copied from the same exquisitely engraved figure on the tail of a penny
piece, but when Edward alluded to the plagiarism, Mr. Simkins was all fire
and fury. "Imitation, Sir," he exclaimed, " I'd have you to know, that I
never imitated in my life — originality. Sir — originality is my sole merit ; by
that I am content to stand or fall — plagiarism indeed ! my good Sir, you must
surely be dreaming" — and the indignant bard repeated this offensive ex.
pression so frequently in the course of the evening, that there seemed to be
some truth in the allegation.
On leaving his new acquaintance, Edward went home to bed : in vain,
however, he strove to sleep; his mind, no longer excited, sunk into a listless
melancholy, and now, more than ever, he missed the elegant society of Cam-
bridge the conveniences of his own room, and, above all, the smiles of his
incomparable Laura. While absorbed in such recollections, a loud noise
was heard, and presently two thumping black rats, of a most lively and mer-
curial disposition, trotted at their leisure across his bed. Scarcely had these
disappearad, when " Poppet," like Philomel, commenced her nocturnal song,
kept in admirable chorus by the deep bass of her mamma's nose ; so that our
unlucky minstrel rose in the nioming sleepless, irritated, and disgusted with
all about him. By way of dispersing gloom, he sat down and penned a letter
to Laura, in which he detailed his prospects with all the enthusiasm of
eighteen, mixed with no slight portion of its hypochondriasm; after which he
took the road towards Bedford Street, in order to call upon his friend Mr.
Simkins.
He found that gentleman seated without his cravat, in a room just one
story higher than his own, with him a little jolly looking fellow, who had
lately composed (in a coat out at the elbows) a poem entitled, " The pleasures
of Sentiment." The name of this last genuis was Montague— Orlando
Montague— and ho talked with a vehemence truly miraculous. In the course
of conversation, Southey happening to be mentioned, "Southey, Southey,"
said the Bard of Sentiment, «' What, the Laureate you mean I I know hira
inunjaiciy ; -.vc
•,vc:ii uvct
r,ioH\f nrwif that finmn
Southey, I always told him so."
At this instant a message from Drury Lane arrived, requiring Simkins to
i
THE AUTHOR.
37
be present at the rehe rsal of a melo-drama which he had lately manufactured,
and which was nowontheeveof appearirig;8()thatthe parly beingthussuddenly
broken up, Edward walked a second time towards the Row, while the other
two poets took the direction of Drury Lane. After trying his chance with
at least three booksellers, all of whom expressed their regret at declining a
poem which was manifestly so full of genius (an opinion which they could
only have derived from inspiration, having never read a line of it) he met
by good luck with a fourth, who agreed to publish it at his own risk, and
allow Edward a certain number of copies. This was better than nothing ;
it was at any rate an opportunity, and as our hero never doubted that the
appearance of « Socrates" would create a sensation in the world, be became
somewhat reconciled to the delay.
On returning home he found a letter from his dear Laura, written, however,
in the lowest state of despondence ; she was very ill, she said ; and indeed
the whole train of her remarks, and even the nervousness of her handwriting,
proved that she was a greater invalid than she chose to allow. Here was a
dilemma! Laura was dangerously ill and Edward was absent ; unable, from
the low state of his finances to venture on a journey to Huntingdon.
<« Well," said the young minstrel, "in a fortnight or so my poem will be out,
and with the money the bookseller promises to advance me in case of a
second edition, I will away for Huntingdon, marry Laura with the profits of
a third, and support her like a lady with the — but no, I am not vain enough
to suppose, as a matter of course, that it will go through a fourth edition."
His mind thus composed, Edward sat down to reply ; and then, for want ot
something better to do, strolled on towards bis bookseller's, who, on his can-
didly revealing to him the state of bis finances, advised "our author to try his
hand at a " Romance." " Romances. Sir," said the bibliopolist, " are the
only things tb^t go down at present ; a poem, to be sure, may now and then
take, but they le sad stuff for selling."
•' StufT," interrupted our indignant author, " you will do me the favor, sir,
to except the ' Death of Socrates.'"
•' Undoubtedly ; Socrates, especially with a Cambridge name affixed, may
do something; by the bye, a sentence in our Litany admirably defines this
sort of composition, " Battle, murder and sudJen death." Now, if you will
try your hand at three vols., keeping this motto in view, I will engage that it
will sell, and amply pay us both."
Having nuihing eUe to tUigage his uttenliou, uur cuiiceiled willing imme-
diately assented ; and, within a week, had not only laid his plot, but even
38
THE AUTHOR.
I
wneten h„If .h„ f„st volume of .ho •• Bloody Bandi. of Bohemia, by E„«„io
Mo„.more„c,, E«,., ,a.e of Trinity College, Cambridge." The snbZ f
.Romance wa. striking, no. .„ say ori,i„„. „ „^l, ^, ,„^Z'Zjl
we t' "f ," 'T' ''""° ""' " *""""»'"'>•. •!>« dark cloud, of .t h
were de.cr.bod as hover.ng i„ .heir my„erious grandeur over it, aged baUle-
men... n .he d.s.ance wa. a heau.iful Bohemian bower, fro,^ whe e
proceeded .he sound, „f music, accompanied by a voice of such ralishZ
melody .ha. ,. drew .wo Ba„di.s ,o .be spo.. Suddenly a shrierwash d
th. unk,H,wn m,ns.,el of .he bower was in .he hands of .hese rumans a'd
already .hey were going .0 s.ick her wi.h an ensanguined poignaTd "ien .
^.ranger you.h of low degree, bu, uncommonly beau.iful, rushed ,0 h r al.
ance, slew .be unfeeling foo.pads and received .ho lad; in his arm ". as
|>o moon peep,„g ou. from benea.h a cloud shone down'upon her Z v , l^
ringle.s. fhe romance was .ermina.ed in ,he usual manner. -Vfter two
volumes of ove and lamen.a.ion, .he lady discovered .ha, ,he stranger you*
enraptured. • The very .h,„g, y„„ng n,an, .hat .ouch ahou, .he dagger and
the moon, and .he dishevelled ringlets, will make bo.h our for.„nes^^; . e
w„.er,„g places-Margate in particular-wi,, he in ecstasy ;" and h fef him
.0 so tie an account wi.h the author of .. Vir.ue rewarfed, a mor Ha "
wh,ch he Evangelical msazine had so highly extolled, hat out o 7™
Lundred co,„es printed, nearly two dozen were sold.
In crossing Holborn, on his return .0 Tooke's Cour., our poet suddenly
ran agan,s. S,.,ki„s. Bo.h were highly gratified, Edward wIaL prats
h,s romance, the Dramatist with the rehearsal of his melo-d amaT „d
bo h h.ppen,„g .0 he flying along at that mercurial pace which a delisted
author always .ndulges in;, he shock resulting from their concussTofwas
^emendous After they had recovered breath, .< 1 have just com " s" d
S.m ,ns .. romyour lodgings, to request you, attendance Lnigh. at'cru;
Lane, E .ston ,s sangu.ne. the horses, he says, will have a surprising effecT
and ,„ short, we are resolved to carry my „elo.drama through." Our pie'
awaiting for him, he was so completely absorbed in their corrciion ,(... k
actually forgo, his dinner, and it was not until the clock! en ha h!
even remembered his appointment. ' *"
The theatre was crowded when he arrived : bu. as Simkins had appr.pri.
THE AUTHOR
39
4
ated him a seat in his own stage box, he got in without a rib being broken,
and had soon the inexpressible honor of sitting cheek 1 y jowl, with the
author of an Epic and a melo-drama. In a few minutes they were joined by
Orlando Montague, and it was really affecting to see the repressed ecstasy
with which Sirakins listened to his flattering prognostications.
« Sure to take, man, sure to take," said that gentleman, «< I have written
to my friend Barnes of the Times and Perry of the Chronick, and both
promise to give it a favorable notice, I myself shall review it in Blackwood."
«« Do yon write for Blackwood's Magazine," replied Edward with all the-
simplicity imaginable.
" Write for it, to bo sure I do, but that's between ourselves ; fact is, honest
Ebony and I, are of two different parties in politics, he's a Tory, I'm a Whig,
and as I promised Jeffrey I would only write for the Edinburgh Review, you
see I can't well acknowledge it."
«' May 1 ask the names of one or two of your articles 1" interrupted Dau-
bigny, " I'll promise to keep them secret."
<« Merc trifles, hardly worth mentioning — to be sure the Ayrshire Legatees
had a run."
" Ayrshire Lcgaleeis," said Simkins, " why that's Gait's."
•( Very good — very good — give a dog a bad name and hang him ; ever since
I wrote those cursed Rejected Addresses— the authors whom I quizzed have
been so enraged, that they will not allow —
''"•' -«"e
W-s landlady. To Ike ma. 1 ,* T' ' "''" ''""' ""= '"'™->" "f
brought „i,h hi„ fr" ;a""rT' .'""".'^ """""^ ""'"'> »' "^^
pride prevented bin, f,„,„ aT. fj ,^ h "r", :""' '" "'" ' "" "•>"" I"'
ho a.u,t .peeddy ,„„k ...out' irf r h 1 '"' '" T'^''"'' ""' '"" ""»'
Meanwhile, his dejection hi, T ? "'" " """""'" ^"l-i'tence.
with Mrs.Scrog«il er 7p ,; :::r^ ^"■' °''"= ""' "'' "- "' ^Jn,pathy
for him an .lli || .'iL^'Z ^^" P"'"' -""■" '-W, had pro' n.ed
gla«sof sugar and Wat he , it 1 T 't"""" • "'''"'> »'" his Sunday's
thus spiterully hinted to hl, t"''"-^'""" "^'"-l '"ovo mentioned
cockney. "" '""'"'>•• "'' "- ''''""W lodger, Mr. Tims, the
ca:'.l;Ti7er::vt ?: "-^^ '- "^ ^--"^ ='-- ^'^ ^^"-'"-
" Don't doubt it for an inlnTMr" S 1 " ^'"' "^^ "°"'''-"
S"".., Who „as some„ha lee^'irif rfr; .?""' ""^ """I"--
enough. Hab ! Poppe, „,, Z.' ^!' ^°°'' '"''^ ' ''™l". "J-""' word's
^it on my knee now-^ a^J ^oo ThI "■' lb""'' '"T' """"^ «'°" '
cockney, "What fine eves .h.h 8°.°'"='"'''. 'h=n '•> a half whisper to the
you think so ? herMr Tims . ■ ' '' ""'" '■'" "■'' "•°"'"''' ^''"•'
.ha. same likeness l^l^^Tl"-' T " ' "" '""' '" '^"''' ' -"
» -. «"». in ... oti^r reVecr;:; ti^lTX::.""' "'■" "-
THE AUTHOR.
41
«• Well never mind," replied the Radical, " handsome is as handsome does ;
Mrs. Scroggins my service Jo you ; Tims your health ; Poppet my darling,
just get ofl'ray knees, there's a love : you're slicking pins in ray leg."
" How playful them children always is !" replied the cockney, " their's is
the spring of life, as the children of the Abbey says,— pray, Mr. Strutt, did
you ever read that novell It's uncommon tender I can assure you."
" Not I," replied Strutt, '♦ Cobbett's enough for me, when a man's coun-
try's going to tho devil, it's high time to leave off novel reading."
« G.ing to the devil," interrupted the patriotic Mrs. Scroggins, " how can
that be 1 Gin's cheap enough I'm sore."
"And so is Uombazeens; indeed Master quite loses by 'em!" rejoined the
apprentice.
" Well, I say nothing, Mrs. Scroggins, but we shall see, all I know is, that
there's a plot, a damned plot, Mr. Tims ; and when so many spies are about,
who knows but this strange gentleman in the fourth story"
" Why that's true as you say, Mr. Strutt, who knows ind'eed"
"I remember," rejoined the cockney, " when I was last rambling among
the Welsh mountains, I saw just such another spark as this 'ere may be.
Ho was what they call a writer for Newspapers ; but I never speaks to such
fellows "
" Cobbett, Mr. Tims, was a writer for newspapers; I beg you'll remember
that," gravely interrupted the Radical.
"Mr. Strutt," replied the landlady, "I thank you for your hint. One
can't indeed be too cautious, as poor dear Mr. Scroggins used to say," and
at the recollection of her deceased husband, a drop of very equivocal nature
stood in the eyes of his widow.
<• I merely mention it for your own good Mrs. Scroggins, for in these times
when Government spies are rambling about in every direction, it behoves
the head of an establishment like this, at least to be cautious," and with these
words the party broke up, Mrs. Scroggins with a resolution to keep a sharp
look out on Edward, Mr. Strutt to study Cobbett and Carlyle, and Tims,
the pensive Tims, to weep for the third time over the sorrows of Lord Mor-
timer and Amanda.
Poor Edward meanwhile, confined to the solitude of his own room, past
all his time in tears.
. ..c t:5oug.it3 of Laura, no longer a dweller on earth — of her father broken
hearted and desolate in his old age— of his own utter isolation, mildewed
every moment of life, and he began almost to yearn for the grave. Now and
42
THE AUTHOR
"•x
II
then indeed — so elastic is the mind of 18— a transient cheerfulness carac
over him, when he would picture to himself the praises of a gratified and
reconciled father, or the admiration of a discerning universe ; but these were
merely meteors that brightened for an instant the horizon of his features, then
left it darker than before. There is something, however, even in melancholy
that gratifies while it subdues the mind. In a few days the first agony of
his grief abated, he was again able to correct his poem for the press, and even
ventured to make his appearance at the lodgings of his friend Mr. Simkins.
Arrived at Bedford street, he found that gentleman in a high state of an-
noyance ; a young but unsuccessful sculptor, by name Thompson, was with
him, and both were indulging over their coffee in loud and varied lamentations.
The subject wa.? that exceedingly prolific one, the misfortunes of authors and
poets in particular. » An author," said Mr. Simkins, « is of all classes of
society the most wretchedly indefinite. Other ranks and professions have
their specific quantity of respect alloted to them. But an author, unless by
the etiquette of five hundred pounds a year, he be also a gentleman, is neither
fish, flesh nor fowl, a man knows not what to make of him."
" But surely if he be successful, Mr. Simkins, he "
"Is, I grant you, the lion of the day, the monster of that Barlholmew Fair,
a London ball room. This lasts for a season, perhaps two, some other
prodigy then ursups his place, he sinks back to his original nothingness, and
is only remembered as an abstraction."
"But while such celebrity endures,"
" It is satisfactory you would add ; agreed, but is it with the risk, the
anxiety, the fretfulness of mind and body that must be braved to ensure iti
Society that sees authors, like actors, only before the curtain in their glory,
views them with delight or envy, but how would that feeling be changed,
could it pierce the recesses of their study ; and find the man who has stirred
the heart like a trumpet with his strains of romance, or love, or chivalry, a
poor, weak, crestfallen and abandoned creature, nervously tenacious of the
fame he has acquired, craving hourly to gain more, and viewing in each suc-
cessful cotemporary a cloud upon his own splendor. Were life eternity,
and men deities, even then it would be scarcely worth the risk ; but as society
is at present constituted, narrow in its prejudices, unfeeling in its condemna-
tion."
« I have seen nothing of all this, Simkins, surely your own fancy creates it."
" You are young yet, Daubigny, but let a few years roll over your head,
and you will agree with me in opinion. Though in England, as in all other
« w l» ^ ^ uM■^ l l^J , ^,il^^a,K^ aaa|a
T
I
i
THE AUTHOR. 43
quarter, of .he globe, .here be of course a due share of good ; ye. here, and
here alone exists „„e onanipoten,, omnipresen. anj .alismanic word, that
a everywhere allowed to atone for i„h„n,ani.y, i„j„s.ice, ignorance. . d he
absence of M good feel.ng, .„d that one word i_bnsine.s. Pay hlage .0
.h,s eommerca. dei.y, and you are everything; without ^ no.hing. Wi.h!
hold .he comnones. courtesies of life; absent yourself, for ins..nce, fron.
Zr T" ' ' T^' "''•"""^ "" ''"• '■'" "y «"" "--ess prevented
old , lend h""; "" '"" "'" ""' """ °"°""'- ^'«'-' '•' •■« — •»
old f„end, who hss been your savi.ur through life, but do it on .he score of
bustne,, and your gratitude will regain untarnished. Violate, in short, every
Indd ...r ^°'' "-"^ "fely ensure ac,ui.,.l, for business must be
attended to.^and though a friend or an acquaintance are well enough i„ their
way yet, when weighed in the same balance wi.h business, .heir seal, kictl
H ; . !"■ " "" """''°" """» "° "•>- "^"J. I -e a "aid oW
mere an w.th h. blooding wife and family, trudging on pompously S
Paul s, and supphcatmg that when dea.h has cast up his acc„„„.s, .he balance
may be ,„ favour of heaven. 1 say ,o myself, •■ my good citizen, what the
deuce do you „a„. ,n Paradise! it's enjoyments are altogether o t of you
1 ne ; you cannot take your ledger there, and though certainly in that blessed
cl,me U,ere are no bad debts to affright you, yet there is sti/no money .^L
A. this instant a noise in .he street interrupted Mr. Simkins' maudlia
eloquence and presently appeared a party of men, bearing along a cZa e
n th most besotted s.a.e of intoxication. . We were jus. .alking of Para
d.se, resumed .ha. gen.leman, ■• and by good luck here (pointing to the moM
come a few fit candidates for i,s enjoyment. How m^any of !he. eZv
n w doyou suppose, are calculated, from f , previous refinements of th^
m.nd», to appreciate the music of angels, the golden harps, and all ,he bliss
prepared or them aAer dea.h in e.erni.y , Do you thmk. would sui. . .em
No .ndeed ; .he very firs, .hing .hey would do on reaching the Bar o heavl
would be .o m,s.ake i. for .he Bar of an ale house and call for bee .'Z
the purpose of dm.ng a. h„ usual hotel in Leicester Square, where to his
44
THE
AUTHOR
I
CHAPTER V.
"The great, the important day, big with the fate of— Edward and of
Socrates, had at last arrived, and the poem already published and advertized,
; BtooJ conspicuous in the bookseller's window. For the first week the biblio-
I pohst was all smiles, invited Daubigny to dinner, where he met other equally
gifted authors, who versified weekly at so much a stanza in the Museum, and
paid h.m. w short, the most flattering attentions. Within a week from their
publication his own copies arrived at his lodgings, moRt of which he instantly
despatched with « the author's compliments" written poetically illegible in the
title page : and would then have gone out of town in order to escape, like
others, from the applause of delighted Europe, had he had sufficient funds for
the excursion. As it was. he amused himself by daily parading the main
streets, and counting how many shop windows from Castle street to Cheap-
aide contained the "Death of Socrates."
The first rebuff he encountered was in the visits paid to those different
friends whom he had honored with a presentation copy ; and who, on his
dropping in a few days afterwards, (quite accidentally of course) were so far
from making «< Socrates" the chief topic of conversation, that he came in
merely by way of parenthesis. One gentleman, however, was an exception,
for he descanted so ably on the praises of his young friend's poem, that his
young friend was in absolute raptures, nor was anything wanting to complete
his ecstasy, but the circumstance of his « Socrates" happening to lie with the
leaves uncut in a remote corner of the room.
On calling, among other friends, on Mr. Simkins, that gentleman advised
him to pay an immediate visit to Orlando Montague, " for," said be, " if any
author, by his own account, can do you good, he is the man. I do not know
exactly where he lives, on that point only he is reserved, but I believe it is
at No. 13 May's Buildings ; at any rate, it is worth the chance." " Verbum
sapienti sat est." says the proverb, and away went Edward, with fire in his
eye, and " Socrates" in his pocket, towards the Strand, where, after turning
and twisting down a variety of unheard of lanes and alleys, he came upon a
heap of brick buildings, on the summit of which, and elevated above all his
cotemporaries. vegetated the serial Mr. Montague. The interior of his room
was striking, the tenants equally characteristic. At a small deal table sat the
great author himself, with one hand inditing " Stanzas to Phillis" for the next
vveck's Liieruri/ uhronme, and with the other rocking the cradle of his tenth
i^»
{
J> t
/
Tlli^ AUTHOR. 45
and youngest child. The other nine were scampering, breechless and beau-
tifu about the room ; while Mrs. Orlando Montague sat darning her husband',
stockings on the bed. and keeping every now and then an inquisitive eye
upm, a leg of mutton that hung roasting by a bit of whip-oord by the fire.'
On entering his attic. Daubigny was somewhat surprised by Montague',
manifest confusion : in a few minutes, hawever. this reserve wore away, and
he welcomed him with his usual familiarity. .< You see us rather in disorder."
he began. ..but the fact is. my wifez-alluw me. by the bye. to introduce
you ; Mon.mia. my love, this is Mr. Daubigny-my wife, as I was observing,
has been pestering me for the last month, to quit Brunswick Square, so that
ant.1 our new house in Brompton is ready we are compelled to put up with
these lodgings."
"They are airy at any rate," replied Edward.
.'That's the very reason we chose them; for Alphonso. poor fellow, i.
subject to — " r . r ,
" Come away from that mutton, Alphonso," interrupted Mrs. Montague.
"Alphonso. I was going to observe," replied her husband, «. is subject to
head-aches. and as my esteemed friend Sir Henry Halford recommends air-"
" Good God ! Mr. Montague." exclaimed his wife with a shriek : .. I declare
Montgomery has cut the whip-cord."
It was too true; the little darling, in the playfulness of his unformed fancy
had actually severed the string, and, as a necessary consequence, from what'
Square would call .. the fitness of things." down dropped the mutton in the
ashes. In a few minutes, however, a fresh jack was manufactured, the meat I
restored to Us equilibrium, and Montague then again addressed himself to
£h.r'. ; „ho. no le„ ,n,p,i,cd than gratified to .ee hin> invited him on ,h
.P0..0 take what he called pot luck, tucked hi. „p under h al 1 h '
X^r:rLs^;ti --tr .»- pe^pi^nr:;-;
a« .„,,e and »» ™n. ,adie::::;„x;r ^i^^^^^^
pair of lad. at that unhappy age, when the manner, a.e neither that of child
or .nan but an amph.b.ou. mixture of both. Tom, the eldest of theae no!.
-hriller than a fife. His brother BHIon h. . ' '"""^ "" '"«""
booby • and a» hMh "™''","'"' °" «>« contrary, was a rough blustering
booby and a. both now sat .taring like two fool, at each other, they formed
a. picturesque a couple as can be conceived. '
"It 1. some time. Mr. Daubigny," .aid Mr.. Godfrey, breakinir a most
flndTer;::"?.'"""^"" --^ ■°'" eitherrhomas^or wtil. Tu
find them, no doubt, very much grown ;" a fact which the two boys' panta-
loon, mast poetically evinced ; inasmuch a. they had lo,JriZ cT^n
eonnex on with the ankles h,., .. .•< . , * '"' ""
.he calf of the.r Z ' " " " """" ™'""''' '>■'' "=?' """ -y up
of '.hi:" '™™' "'""■' ''•"■=" ^''-"'' ""» "»•' -- -n either
.ightf °" ""' ""'' ■"■ *•"• °°'"''^^ •" ""^''^ > ™"' '""= -«n in
a hefr '^' T' '";°™'" ''''°'' "" " ■"°"«": "»"'' "'y nearly of
ac Dil, auh "' "" °'"" °"' '"^ '^' """'^^ "-^ '-"^ back .o
^:L ! ll!* '':!. ""'^':™ .""'"-^ ^'^ "-^ -sain.. Tom, ,o the manifest
., -. .u. i.=:..i, u.iu iue u.«omfiture of Tom', occiput. After this cere-
i )
THE AUTHOll.
47
1 i
mony. the whole circle proceeded in awful silence to the dining room, the little
man in tights heading the van. with Mrs. Godfrey hanging on his arm, and
Tom and Bill following and grinning at each other in the rear. When the
cloth was removed, Mr. Godfrey, u well meaning middle aged gentleman,
began "his usual custom of an afternoon," with an elaborate history of his
Port Wine : an article in the selection of which, he evinced such acknow-
ledged genius, that his friends used invariably make him taste their own
Pipes before they closed with any wine merchant. In the matter of books,
this gentleman wan equally particular, he had a library of some hundred
tomes, the historical portion of which was arranged in prominent order, while
the funny parts, such as Broad Grins, Rejected Addresses, Twopenny Post-
age, «&c., were packed cheek by jowl together. Every volume however was
bound, for it was beneath the dignity of so elegant a mind as Mr. Godfrey's,
to admit an undressed author into his study.
Among the other characters assembled, was a staid gentleman in brown,
one of your slow but sure readers, who go through a book in a year, digest
it in two, and earn in consequence the name if clever fellows. In compli-
ment to this bookworm, the conversation turned upon historical literature,
and after Mr. Mill's delightful history of the Crusades had been discussed in
all its bearings, allusion was made to the more perishable works of the day.
"Pray, Mr. Daubigny," said a young lady next him, ■ have you read a
small poem lately published, entitled " the Death of Socrates ]"
" I believe I have," said our hero, all nervous anticipation.
'« And w' 'o you think of it 7"
'• T .!£ of It Madame ] Why really— think of it, you mean— oh ! yes
to be sure, I am always thinking of it."
"I presume you admire it then, I am sorry to difTer with you, but it ap-
pears to me very common-place."
« And not only common-place, but the most intolerable trash I ever yet
read," added the learned gentleman.
Edward was now on thorns ; he fairly bit his lips with rage, looked at the
brown man as if he could have actually devoured him ; and then being sum-
moned to reply, exclaimed in broken sentences: « Common-place, hey, oh !
yes, very common-place— uncomuionly so. Ha ! ha ! I never laughed so
much in my life."
« It certainly is exceedingly bad," said the brown man, " and I don't won-
der at your laughing."
" Oh, execrable," added the young lady.
48
THE AUTHOR.
•' Oh, diabolical," thundered Edward, and then unable any longer to con-
tain bimseir, quitted the room on pretence of an engagement, and rushed
like a madman towards Tooke's Court.
The next morning while seated in a rag* it his breakfast, Edward sud-
denly remembered that it was the first of the month, and that all the Maga-
zines from A. to Z. inclusive, would of course be filled with Socrates. Away
therefore he posted to his bookseller's, and on gathering up everything that
bore even the remotest resemblance to a periodical under his elbow, dashed
away first at one, then at anotheis until having completed his scrutiny, he
discovered (horresco referens) that there was no more mention of Socrates,
than if such a philosopher had never existed. He was just quitting the shop
in despair, when the publisher, who partook strangely of his alarm, put into
his hands, the fifih number of a thing called the Talisman, (since gathered to
its fathers) wherein, stuck as if on purpose in the most conspicuous page, he
read this satisfactory sentence. " On the whole, we advise this young man
to spend the rest of his days in penitence, for an outrage so wantonly com-
mitted on a respected sage like Socrates. 1/ however the unhappy witling
will still persevere in publishing, if reckless of the past, he still dare to medi-
tate atrocities for the future, on his own head fall the malediction of neglect,
on the shelves of his publishers, the curse of unsold copies."
Maddened by the stinging insult, our hero's brain seemed literally scorched
to ashes. With a laugh inconceivably terrific from the gastly convulsion
that accompanied it, he darted like a meteor from the shop ; cast one wiiher-
ng glance upon the Paper, in order to ascertain where it was published ;
and then with fever in his blood, phrenzy in his eye, and a chill creeping
numbness at his heart; he darted from street to street, from lane to lane;
down this alley, up that ; heedless of the prying glances shot after him in
every direction ; he arrived with the loss of his hat and one shoe, at the ob-
noxious Printing office in B street.
On reaching the Counting House, he made but one stride from the door
towards a harmless genteel looking reader, with a pen stuck behind his ear ;
and conceiving of course that he was the critic. " Sir," said he, thrusting at
the same time the offensive paragraph into (what a poetic friend of mine
would call) his chops. — " Sir, you are the author of this skulking criticism.
Nay, never deny it — I know you are — you look as if you were," and he in-
stantly followed up his assertion with a blow so admirably effectual, that the
.poor iveaoer, oesa, irstcstano, pen and all, fell vviih an immense crash to the
earth. The noise alarmed some compositors, who were at work in the next
\ I
u
THE AUTHOR.
49
\ I
room, and who rushing out to see what was the matter ; were reviewed, tb»
first with a kick in the short ribs, and the second with a peg in the throat,
after which summary process, our minstrel somewhat appeased, grimly
smiled adieu; and then, before either sufi'erer could recover his usual sobrietv
he had flown from the office with such agility, as to bailie all pursuit.
Arrived at his lodgings, the first object he beheld was Mrs. Scrogglf)!.', w&o>
following him up stairs with a large bill of two monilis expeudiiutL,- io her
hands, gave him to understand that she expected immediate paymejit. This^
as the descriminating reader will conclude, made a pleasing addition to Ed-
ward's slock of enjoyment, particularly as the sum total of his worldly effects
amounted to exactly four shillmgs and six-pence. He made however the
best reply he could, promised his landlady the whole amount within the week>
and then having rid himself for the present of her society, gat down to swear.
I know not whether it be a truth generally known, (if not I claim the bene-
fit of the discovery,) but in cases of severe afl3iction, there is nothing so sooth-
ing to a virtuous mind, as a few hearty oaths.
They are a species of mental emetic, by which the overcharged feelings ritj
themselves of much superfluous irritation, and which, were it allowed to fester
in the mind, would conduct the unhappy sufferer to the tread-mill; peradven-
lure even to the gallows. Having greatly to his relief accoraplislied this religious
duty, our discomfited minstrel next applied himself to meditation ; and with
that activity for which he was notorious, resolved on answering an advertise-
ment that he had rend in the Morning Chronicle when waiting at his book-
seller's for the Magazines. This indeed was at present his sole resource; for
however meritorious in other respects, the " Death of Socrates" was anything
but lucrative, inasmuch, as out of five hundred copies printed, only eight wcr»
8old and two paid for ; and the poem being a five shilling concern, and twice
live making ten I am justified in asserting, that ho was only the gainer by teri
shillings. In this condition, therefore, the advertisement— an application from
A. B. Tooley, St. Boough, for a classical tutor to his son — was clearly his
best remedy, and accordingly he sat down to answer it, thinking that however
humiliating, it was still preferable to petitioning his father, after the imperioo*
way in which he had declared himself independent.
Meanwhile his affairs grew worse and worse : Orland Montague was evi-
dently unable to serve him ; Simkins to», having dropped down from an
iuyvc poci, ia a wnier for Hraaii perioJicals; and being now engaged in a
4ran«Iation of Don Quixotte, his principal recouunendation to which was his
50
THE AUTHOK.
1
perfect ignorance of Spanish-Simkins, it is clear was far too busy to assist
him, 80 to himself alone must he henceforth look for support. His romance
indeed might have done something, but the publisher had since refused it,
and it lay therefore unnoticed in his cupboard.
There is no situation so enviable as that of a popular poet ; no hell so
.Ireadful as the attic of an unsuccessful one. Edward's was a complete
pandajmonium : every day ho was subjected to the visitations of the landlady
with - touching this here little bill sir; I have a large bill to make up by tol
marrow, and must request you to pay it instantly;" and every night the rats
discovering that he was only a relail poet, imagined they might insult him
with impunity. Nay : even his manuscripts, at the instigation of the French
Radical, were rummaged ; and when he walked up Tooke's Court, his voca-
tion was so well known, that the very boys who lodged next door would
whisper admiringly to each other, «« I say, Jack, there goes a poet."
His affairs were in this trim when one morning a two-penny post epistle
arrived in answer to his advertisement, requesting that he would be "good
enough" t.) call upon Mr. Stephen Stubbs, Cheesemonger, Tooley Street
-Stubbs,Stubbs," repeated Edward, "the name is not even classical, however
It .8 better than nothing ;" and he accordingly took the road to London Bridge
and arrived within the hour at the country of those unhappy savages, who
live in a state of semi-barbarism on the Surrey-side of the Thames.
Mr. Stabbs happened to bo behind the counter when he entered, and as he
was a bustling unceremonious tradesman, ho made no more ado, but served
out his goods to some customers who were waiting in the shop, at the very
same time that he addressed himself professionally to Edward. ««So Mr.
What.d'ye.call.'em, Daubigny, I persume, you are the gentleman as is to'
teach my boy classics. Clever boy, Tom, sharp as a needle, 'as Omer at his
finger ends;" then turning to his shopman, " 1 say. Dick, why don't you help
that ere gentleman ! So, as 1 was saying, sir, Tom's as sharp as-a pound
of Stilton cheese, Ma'am, we never sells it by the pound— very sorry,
ma'am, very sorry indeed, but twouldn't pay.— And so, Mr. Daubigny, you
see my boy Tom-Dick, why don't you attend to that ere gentleman, he's
been waiting a full hour-my boy Tom, Mr. Daubigny, want's a little polish-
ing up, and so, sir, I make bold to ax your terms."
" Why really sir," replied Edward, half amused by this curious mode of
proceeding, •« I cannot say at present, but next time I call."
« Next time ; suppose then you take a dish of tea with me to-night, qmto
in a snug may ; there'll only be my sister and Tom. Dick, I say Dick, doa't
Jw
THE AUTHOR. 51
forget to send the two Cheshires up to Mr. Jenkins. There'll only be Tom,
Mr. Daubigny. And dy'e hear, Dick, mind and take the bill along with 'era!
she's one as requires looking arter; hah! hah! excuse my freedom, Mr.'
Daubigny, I'm a plain John 13ull-he ! he ! he ! so then we shall see you
to-n.ght at six ; very good-Dick, I say Dick, has that 'ere bacon come in yet?
Hah ! Mrs. Snigs," he continued, to a fat woman who just then entered the
shop, .. how goes the world with you, hey ? and how's your good man, and
hows the httle ones?" with which words Edward laughingly retired, re^
solved, if only for amusement, to keep his evening's appointment.
At the corner of Chancery Lane he unexpectedly met Handiman, who
rushed up towards him. all smiles and ecstasy, with, " Oh Lord, Ned I've
got a child, I've got a child !" ^. More shame for you," replied Edward, for.
gettmg for the moment his friend's inauspicious marriage, then suddenly
recollecting the fact, he congratulated the delighted father upon this addition
to his felicity, and accepted hi.- invitation to dine with him at the Sabloniere.
In the course of conversation he discovered that Handiman, like most good
natured fools in the hands of a clever woman, had been duped into the idea
of her immaculate purity, and that even were it otherwise, the fault proceeded
from a weak but susceptible disposition. The birth of his first born put the
seal to this delusion, so that our hero left him perfectly contented with his
lot, then having seen him safely deposited in the Cambridge Telegraph, re-
turned to his Tooley street acquaintance.
On his arrival he was surprised to find the complete alteration that had
taken place in Mr. Stubbs' behaviour. The tradesman the shop was the
gentleman of the drawing-room, and though familiar in . nornirig was all
dignity at night. This alteration was owing evidently to his sister, a long,
thin spinster, straight from head to foot, like a stick of sealing wax, and much
given to keeping up what she called the family dignity. Her brother having
accidentally mentioned Margate, » Margate." said she, with a disdainful toss
of the head, -we never go there-it's too vulgar," a fact which Mr. Stubbs
affirmed, " upon his honor," to be true.
In the course of the evening, Tom-the hopeful Tom-with a pen behind
each ear, and a dirty apron in front, made his appearance, and pointing di-
rectly to some globes that stood in the corner of the room, « Pray, Mr.
Daubigny," said that classic genius, "can you tell mo what that 'ero'-isn
means on this 'ere celestial globe ?"
« Thar," said Edward, "is the sign of Cancer or the Crab—"
52
THE AUTHOR
.. Crab-crab," interrupted Stubbs, senior, *« why yes, a crab's well enough
j I II in It s way, but for my own private eating I prefer a lobster."
" Law ! pa," aJded Stubbs, junior, with a grin, " Mr. Daubigny means the
sign of the crab."
" The sign of the Crab, hey. why that's strange ; I've Hved twenty years
In Tooley street, and never once heard of a public house of that name
There's the Goat and Boots, the Cat and Fiddle, the Rumpsteak and Rock-'
ing Horse- ^he, the"_and he was gravely proceeding to count upon his
fat sausage-l,ke fingers the name of every " ti in the Borough, when Tom
interrupted the catalogue with, " pray. Mr. Daubigny, what's the' meaning of
that 'ere other sign ? Boots, I think they call it."
« Bootes, you mean — "
" No, Boots, Mr. Daubigny, for old Jem Dobson told me only t'other day,
that Boots was the proper name, and that it was given purposely because the'
planet looked for all the world like a pair of hessians."
At this last instance of his son's genius, both father and aunt exchanged
delighted glances : •* well done, Tom," said the former, '» f told you, Mr.
What d'j?e-call-em, Tom was a sharp fellow," a fact, also, in which our'hero
so completely agreed, that he shortly after left the party, convinced that the
young cheesemonger was far above his humble powers of tuition, and that all
further proceedings would in consequence be useless.
The evening after this adventure, as he sat ruminating over a cup of cold
coffee upon his present hopeless situation, and thinking till the tears started
from his eyes on his dear— his incomparable Laura, a slight tap was heard at
the door, and in walked the poetic Mr. Simkins. After a slight pause, for
Edward was precisely in that mood of mind when even the presence of our
dearest friends is an interruption, his visitor thus announced the motive for
his calling. "I have only just left," he began, " the office of the Morning
Herald, where, as my friend the Editor informs me, they are sadly in want
of a reporter. Now, I have ventured to recommend you, Daubigny, both as
a scholar and a gentleman, and am perfectly convinced, from my own per-
sonal knowledge of all connected with the establishment, that you will receive
the kindest treatment. The duty, to be sure, is somewhat laborious, but what
then ! the remuneration is proportionate, and believe me, when I assure you,
that though perhaps less flattering than poetry, it is far— far more satisfactory!
Do you agree to try it ?"
Without a moment's hesitation Edward returned an affirmative, and having
accordingly received a letter of introduction to the Editor, posted off towards
1
THE AUTHOR.
53
the Strand, where he made himself known, volunteered his services, and wag
instantly enrolled among the ebtablishment at a rising salary of four guineas
a week. This freed him in some degree from his dependence upon Mrs.
Scroggins, and as he still trusted that the extraordinary merits of his poem
would make their way with the wo.ld, and t! .t in a few months therelore he
should be able to return with credit to Cave..ham, he buckled with no little
spirit to the task.
1
CHAPTER VI.
Oh, my parolles I They have married me.
—All's well that ends xoell.
Edward's leisure was now completely engrossed by the Morninfr ChronicU.
Every evening during the sessions he took his turn In the reporter's gallery,
and during the day was busied, at one time in the courts of law, at another
m the Bow street office, now and then he digested and gave a digest of some
ceremonious public dinner, and occasionally frequented the Theatre in order
to criticize the various novelties.
For the first few weeks the bu.tle consequent on this new situation kept
hw mind so far employed, that it was unable to fall back upon it itself, and
though the ill success of Socrates came in as an admirable damper to any
exuberant 8a!!.>« of cheerfulness, yet his vanity still deluded him by the hope
of its ultimate celebrity.
The life of a reporter is necessarily, to some extent, a dissipated one-the
night, that season of repose to most people, with him is the season of labor—
his body, therefore, requires constant stimulus, aid Edward, at whatever hour
he returne*! to Tooke's Court, invariably refreshed himself with drams of the
strongest coffee, and then, unable to sleep, would sit up till day-break, either
absorbed in his favorite Livy_that Walter Scott of the Latin Chronicles-or
else m recalling to his mind the image of his never-to-be-forgotten Laura.
Thus passed the night : with respect to the day, it was spent chiefly in
lounging at his bookseller's, whose face, an infallible barometer, grew gra-
dually and beautifully longer, until at last it seemed to realize the definition
of a mathematical straight line, in being length without breadth.
He was chatting there as usual one morning, when a bibliopolist, one of
those small mushroom tradesmen who spring up. G~ knows how, and faih
G~ knows when, happened to enter the shop, with a request that his
brother publisher would recommend him some person to conduct a small
54
THE AUTHOR.
il:
if:
Itkj
periodical. Our hero was instantly put forward, when the following conver-
sation took place in an inner room between the negotiators:
" You (eel inclined, then, Mr. Daubigny," began the applicant, " to under-
take the editorship of my little miscellany 1"
" Certainly," said Edward, « upon, upon "
"A stipulated price, you mean ; well said, Sir ; fact is, however, that my
work though exceedingly popular, is at present in its infancy, and cannot
afford to pay. But with your abilities, (a polite bow from Edward.) Mr.
Daubigny, we shall no doubt do wonders, and then. Sir. you shall be the very
first remembered I am a man of principle, Mr. Daubigny ; you understand
me, Sir, a man of principle ; ray maxim is. pay every one their-G-d bless
me ! ,s that St. Paul's striking four ?" and he pulled out an expensive gold
watch, taking care that it should first be well covered before he replaced it in
h.s fob This business accomplisKed, he next produced a superbly chased
snuff box Jrom his pocket, after which, turning to Daubigny-.. Perhaps sir
you will favor me with your company to dinner to-day, when we can 'talk
over matters at our ease," and then, without waiting any further reply, ac-
compan.ed or rather dragged him to a newly furnished shop in the Row
. After the bottle had passed a few rounds the negotiation was warmly re-
sumed when Edward agreed to superintend the work in question, and the
bookseller .n return promised that in the event of its sale, (which under such
able managemenl, he obscrved.it must obtain) he should be paid £10 10s Od
a sheet for his own contributions, and £3 5s. for his labor of editorship. Our
hero's time was thus completely engrossed, and what with reporting by night
and scribbling by day, his mind was in one continual fever. Still, however
he felt that he was securing an independence, and not only paving the way
for the success of his darling Socrates, but also winning himself a name in
literature.
It was well said some hundred years since since, that "Mhe man who is
good fi)r everything is good for nothing." Engrossed with his new occupa-
tion Edward unwillingly but inevitably neglected his duties as a Reporter
the consequence was, that by dividing his time between two laborious en^
gagement., he injured his interests in both. For some weeks this indifference
was passed over at the Hera/d office; but at last it became too glaring so
that the Proprietors, after several friendly but fruitless expostulations with
oar author, were reluctantly compelled to dismiss him.
As if to hasten the crisis of his calamities, he was earlv nno n-r->~ -u-
prised by a visit from his new bookseller, with a request that he would'oblige
THE AUTHOR
55
him by signing his name (merely as a matter of form) to a few trifling bills,
amounting in the whole to about £40 Os. Od. •' You need not hesitate, Mr.
Daubigny," added the bibliopolist, .«for as I told you before, I am a man of
principle, and would sooner die than sec you wronged. Meanwhile, [ am
somewhat in your debt, and since our work, though at present rather cramped
for want of ready money, is yet becoming popular ; I request you will accepl
this trifle," placing £10 in his hands, «« and oblige me by calling this day
week for an additional £20 Os. Od. I assure you, sir, upon my honor, I
quite blush to ofler a sum so far below your merits, but still "
" My dear Sir," interrupted Edward with enthusiasm, " I intreat you
will not embarass me by such undeserved praises ; if my signature can do
you any service, you are heartily welcome to it."
"A thousand thanks, my worthy Daubigny, really you overpower me
with your goodness. As a man of principle, I confidently accept your
offer ; and as a man of principle, I will also take care that you in no res-
pect shall suffer. Good day to you, my most esteemed friend, be sure to
call this day week for the £20." At this instant Edward returned the
bills with his own signature affixed; which the Publisher no sooner re-
ceived, than he hastily folded them up, and then, with a smile of inex-
pressible suavily, bade our delighted author adieu.
Punctual to his appointment, Edward, at the week's end, called for the
sum that was so far below his merits, but discovered, to his rage and
astonishment, that the " man of principle" had evaporated ; having first
taken especial care to fleece as many friends as he could convenientiy lay
hands on. A polite letter was left for Daubigny in the shop, in which
many inquiries were made aftor his health, together with a request that he
would be good enough when the bill for £40 became due, to pay it on
behalf of the writer, who sincerely wished him well.
Now this was satisfactory, so much so, that Edward, on quitting the
shop, was somewhat divided as to whether he should blow it up with gun-
powder or put an end to his own existence.
In passing Holborn, absorbed in such ideas, and anxious also from his
shabby morning dress, to escape unpcrceived in the crowd ; it followed, as
a matter of course, that he met everyone he knew in London ; and particu-
larly his fashionable friends the Godfreys, whom he would not have
encountered for the world. After a few similar stoppages, he contrived
to reach Bedford street, where he found Mr. Simkinsbusy in chit-chat with
the sculptor above mentioned. Here he gave free vent to his indignation ;
abused himself, his bookseller, and the whole world ; and in short, com-
56
T II K A U T H R .
1 11
fHj
mitted so many extrav,.g,inces, that his companions both thought him
mad. There is souiethint', however, in passion, that notwithstanding its
absurdity, yet gives it an air of dignity ; and as Edward strode up and
down the room, with his hands clenched, his eyes rolling, and his whole
frame thrown into the most muscular energy ; the young sculptor took out
his pencil, and turning anxiously towards him, " May I request, Mr.
Daubigny," he began, " that you will grant me one trifling favor 1"
" What is that?" replied Edward.
" Simply that you will place yourself in precisely the same attitude as
when just now you abused the world so lustily. Believe me. Sir, that it
was a very pretty passion— I speak like an artist, Sir,— a very pretty
passion, indeed ; and if I could but transfer it to my Hercules, I should
make my fortune. That right leg of yours, Mr. Daubigny— no Sir, not
that; the right was well thrust forward ; the left, to be sure, was put some-
what awkwardly behind : but, my dear Sir, that's the very thing."
« Do you mean to aflVont me, Mr. Thompson ?" interrupted Edward,
with indignation.
" Admirable, ray dear Sir : now just keep so for an instant : that mouth
of yours will express passion to a miracle ; the nose, to be sure, is rather
—but I know where I can get a famous nose :" and the enthusiastic artist
kept rattling on at such a rate, that Daubigny, half angry, yet half inclined
Co laugh, quitted the room, in precisely that doubtful mood of mind, when
the slightist occurrence will sMlJice to turn the scale.
In crossing towards Furnival's Inn, on his return from dining at
aome execrable chop house, where, it being five o'clock, the hot meats
were as cold as such hot meats are generally apt to be, he was stopped by
a crowd gathered in front of the Hotel that was on fire. Now, there is
something in the sight of an honest conflagration exceedingly gratifying
to the lovers of the picturesque ; and if there be a man or two burning
within— providing at least that they be bailifls-the effect in the eyes of a
poet and a philanthropist, is marvellously increased. I do not say this in
order to make a boast of my humimity, but merely to show that I possess it.
As Edward stood gazing at this magnificent ight, he was startled by
loud and repea d scream?, and turning to a most pre-possessing old gen-
tieman who st. od near him, " is it possible, sir." he exclaimed, " that those
acreams proceed from yonder house 1" pointing at the same time to the
flaming ruin now lit up on all sides.
A .-I..
'♦ I am afraid so indeed." added the crentJemnn with » -ScK «.
makes me feel it more acutely, is, that however anxious, I am unable from
1
t
EtSSS
THE AUTHOR.
57
■■
*u
t
my infirmities to lend any assiutance. Would to God that some adven-
turous young man would advance to rescue these poor wretches ; they
will certainly be burnt else."
" I will — I will," replied Edward — and then, giving his coat and waist,
coat, together with his money and pocket book, to the stranger, rushed
like a wildfire towards the house ; the old gentleman cheering him as he
went, with such words as " amiable, noble, generous youth. Oh ! what
would not I give to be able to do the same."
By this time the whole building was one broad sheet of flame, the
chimneys already tottered, and the roof seemed gradually bending ; when
on a sudden the drawing room window was burst open, and there, en-
veloped in smoke and flame, appeared a young lady, uttering the moat
fearful screams. A shout of horror rung through the crowd at this sight,
and " save her — for God's sake, save her," said a thousand voices at once
— no one, however, advanced — the risk appeared too dreadful, for just as a
fireman was rushing forward to place a ladder, a terrific crash was heard,
and the chimney of an adjoining house fell backward into the street. At
this critical moment Edward arrived ; the crowd made way for him as he
passed, and already he had gained the ladder, entered the drawing room,
and received the strange lady in his arms, when the roof, all fire and bril-
liancy, fell in. Luckily he had just time to escape ; and having seen his
senseless charge consigned to the guardianship protempore, of the Hotel
keeper, he was returning to demand his clothes, when, much to his dis-
comfiture, he found that the amiable old gentleman, unable to witness so
terrific a conflagration, had hastily contrived to decamp ; taking with him,
in the hurry of his flight, poor Edward's cash and pocket-book.
From this fatal moment, his character seemed completely changed :
" here," said he, half delirous with passion, " here have I in two instances
done my utmost to benefit others; I have ruined myself to oblige a book-
seller, of whom I know little or nothing ; risked my life to save a ladjr,
whose face I have never seen, and am treated in return with the basest
and most fiendish ingratitude." * '
From this moment he confined himself to the solitude of his own room ;
he scarcely ate, and seldom, if ever, slept ; for his frame, previously shat-
tered by his exertions as a reporter, was now, by these last unexpected
occurrences, completely undermined. His friends, meanwhile, surprised
at his protracted absence, thought of it for about a week, and then, of
course, forgot him. Oiic, however, there was, who, amid all his reverses,
still scorned to neglect him ; one who visited him in his deepest sorrows,
Pfi
l!^
68
THE AUTHOR
i>i'
clung ,„ l,i,„ i„ hi, j,„k„., „i.a,„h„py. „„,, ,hi, „,,
laiKllady with a bill of four woeks standing.
Tl,„, wrolohcd. both a homo and abroad , hi» money .pent, hi, health
u. e i°r T"""^ '"T '"'" ""' """'' ' <""" '^•'»''"' '""•«' "> "«»«•
u eZ and tou" ,' ."'" ■="""'™'"- ''-'y -"!.. his eye looked
I,o„7 T ?^ • '"'' ""' "'"'' l"'"'"P'° "f "fe k^Pt oozing drop by
.th.7 :■"""""' ■"" "'™"" "°''^- Th""^- weakenoLith't I
.gh. ,t ex«.,„„,yet h,. nervou. energy ..ill kept np a constant irritation.
n :,Z ", "' ,"'''"■ ■' "" '° '-"" ">' ™-' f" f^l vision., or think
n .loop, ». abandonment, of her »ho was gone for e.er. If he rose in
t7::T\:i:T'''''' ■""'■ •"■"'^"'-^ ^'■"""- '^- "■■- •>»y --"
won J en rb ^°"""r' '" "" ""''"' °f ''''" """'■'•'■ >■!« landlady
wond enter h„ room with a pressing demand lor money, but when .he
beheld h,s corp.e.like co„„,e„.„„ , »o perfeet.y miserabll and ema Led
llr: kL" e '•" k"'"'" T- '"' '"' "°""' '-- "- ""^ a -
almost ot kindness m her mouth.
trol°i r"'7' "T""' '"""' " ""'"'''"■ '"" ">e /ire, she boldly in-
r. „'"; b'"'" '""'"=^'-'' '^'""S "'m that .he had a bM, o
lying on h,. bed as .he approached, and turning hi. hea.y eye towards
";o ^i t T'l T ^""'''•"- """"•' • '^" '^y^'" '" '-'«^ t
my ashts, I .hall then be remembered with affection, and all tho.e who
have .ulTered for my follie. will be amply recompensed."
The good woman', feelings Md interest, here seemed to ha.e a desner-
1% b? :; ■'".^7;^'-.I'-''igny,.- she replied, . and the bijl tp'aM
too ? but never m,„d, .t can't be helped, you shan't die, young gentleman
■f goo nurs,„gca„ cure you , but do, pray Sir. let me wriL to 'oTrl "" "
neve Mrs™;:'™ °' "T'" ''' ^-"^ -"'» ""^^ -"'"ed : ■■ neve,,
never Mrs. Scroggms, that mortidc.tion shall at least be spared me. If I
h ve been disappointed, I have not, thank God, the misery of suing to
h,m, whose boun.y I voluntarily rejected. Once, indeed, I had hop sfhl"
nry name would have been brought before his mind throu;h the m S um of
pub ,0 ce ebrtty, and that I should have returned in glory'to his 1 bu
ha. delusion ,s over now, and after having since made every no siWe
atonemen, after toiling till my strength is gone in the hell of a nell
office, and addmg to my labors the dr...'».™ .r t- . > „ ■■ ^ "
having done ail .his. and in v.in.Ih^v; ■^othing Lft"buT: d^T' ' "'"
THE AUTHOR. 59
only remcjy, for .croely had the aJv.,li..„,„„. been ,lo,p,„.hod l„ Z
London newspaper, when .he owner of .he hill fo, £40 arrived and in he
course of .„ ,n.er.,ew „i.h Edward, Nun.ly informed hi™ ..a ' f he
money were not paid in.o his hanker'a hand, wi.hin three day, he Mil 1
immediately proceed against him. " ' ''°"'''
WUh?hr"L"anf"°"""f ': ""■'"""' •■'' "'"''="°" ""' "'i» ■'"•' "'-'•
Jo mi y „d 1,"'; ,' , ' ' "" ""• °"'^°""*' "'-"".rtpi.. now sate
„loom,ly and esolutoly down lo meditate that last of all erimes-suicide
A, the Idea slowly familiarised itself to his mind, he rose ^rm hi h i "
and, rushing wildly down into the open street took fa, l,„ T , .s u'
thick fog, that deepened even the dullness of Holborn. C™„d. passed
or humanity for h,s blood was curdled-his very nature perverted and
earth seemed stamped with a curse. '
ately took out h,s razor, and then, eyeing it wiih the fixed sternness of
dej,r, prepared to undergo his last frightful ordeal. What thouItT a.
that awful moment, passed through hi. mind may never now be k, own
but the one which rankled most deeply at his heart, was a silen ch gL;
m anthropy ; not boisterous and impassioned, hut eahn, settle and rZ
stlss. eating the way through the ruins of his kind.i r thought" like
some deadly resp«e among the fragments of a mouldering edifice fL an
instant, however, he paused in his bloody work : h. paused as he r'eco I t d
hjsonee devoted father, hut when again he brought to mind .he nT si
of return ng to him all suppliant and humiliated, he sat down to ^ritH^
farewell letter, imploring his pity and forgiveness ; and then aft" is „"
from his ehair and imprecating a solemn curse on earth C 1 7
T u r ."'" """■"'' "P'"-"" ""'"'P-ted form ad . , ocd-anS
.he guilty, the ah.„ oned Edward fell seuseless in the arms of-lis father
* • • »
60
l!li
THE AUTHOK.
Iff
J„ ""' J"",°"" ""'""' '"" 'I'" occurrenc. that our h.,„ ,«„v.„J .. i,
f'oa. a deep .l„p, a„j f„„„j hi„,^|f ., C.ir.h L
the „l,l h„„.ekcep., „.,.d te.iJo him. r.,di„, „7,h !l. . "' "'"'
•be .„,ry of Sua.nna and the Elder. WUU "' '' ■''~'"='"" "" ""■«.
.0 c,„„pr.Ke„d .,.. Hi. 2: ttLnZ:::". ':;:: ":::; r°
-. ;:i:r:,:;ri;::f^::;^t::v;::' " ,r ' '"■ "■"• " -
you have guessed right Master Edward but r «n», »
yo' rself." ^uward, but I entreat you to compoie
"I am quite well,— indeed I am well • l«t m« ♦»,
and he w.. endeavoring ,o raise hira.elf from the bed when fhlh
mel,„choi;.h„u,h.. he ooked? T "°" ""'••''■' "'"" '""- »f
recalled hi vi.i". to Hun. „,, T" ■""' " * "''""" '"" "h'" '"
.0 awake ftllh """ *;" ' """"''"'" ''""•' "" ^"">"i .'".o.
.0 not, .1 tl:" ' " '"""• ^"'^"■■"^ '""-' —d hin. conspired
inT out on' Z 7 '", """" """' ""^ "^ "•■ '•^'O'" -'" " " lo»t
:^i:r.ritssHr::::
he was once again enabled to leave his chamber nJru t
.... io at iTZ::vzt^:i:^,'z^z::::^
with he .8 a strange gentleman. Master Daublgnv we all knZ K 7
but depend on it, he can't hold out long." ^' "" *'''* '
By this timn V.iixjua^A u„A „^ r. . .
" """ =" '"^ recovered health, that he was enabled to
i n
i
i
THE AUTHOR. gj
t.k« .ho„ walk, in ,h. P.rk, .„,! ,„„c.im„, „h,„ ,„„ d„y „„. ,;„, ,„
ram e can a. far a. ,h. brijg. ■ f„„ „h,-,h, „. i„ j.,. „r chilJh™", ht
would ,„v„, oca., hi. c,e.„v„ ,hc „„.,!„ p„.poo. ^ulhy «,„! I L
.bo chalk h,IU „f C..er.h«™, he„ea.h which .he -il.er Tha.ne. ,„ w'
Wh,.p.r,„g .nj laughing ,|„„g , ,h, .hid, „„„a, „f hi. f,„he,-, n„, .
the d,..,n. .p,rc, of Reading, gle.„,i„g ,„,„ ,„,,, ;„ ,^, ^ •''
grc, .urr«. „f 8a,n. Lawrence'. Church .„„e,i„g fa, „Ho.„ ,1™ al,
TnTld h ■ ." """'"' •■"•"' ''»"'"• "■"■" "-• Kousekeepcr
Del 8h.ed „„h the new., ou, hero leaped up in eea.a., f™m hi» chair, and
1.. :;c',::::i """""" '""-'" *"■• *'-""• •■ »"" "--' '- -^ '■""■« '••
" In the drawinar-room, Mnater Edward."
" la any oi*. wiih ^im »"
n.:^/z^r!:;::,. "'• °"'' ^"- ""'-'• -^ -" °"' «-"-- «-
vie^.Vr^™' 'Ir """ '■"o ''»•' J"'«»'l l>im.elfforthi.exci.i„gin..,.
v..w: bul when all wa, ready, »„.l he w„. ,ui>,i„g hi. .oliur, chamber
h,. courage failed and he al.oa. wi.hed he could have deferred'. For a
u hour he con„„„eu pacing up and down hi. room, nervou. and gi!
ale nr 1" " '" ''"" ^' '"""' ^° '''""'' ' ""- » -""J mo -
.Tf end "'""""' "»""■"•"'-'«" •>— «a--for .ha. hi. father
and fr,end. were .„„„u, .. ,ee him. Somewhat reassured by .hi. la..
„ m dl""' '■;:'""""''' '"" ■"'' """"• '"" "" '"=''-8 'l>e'dra„.„;
room door, and he.nng .he aound of ,oiccs wi.hin. hi. courage again failed
i.l unable longer ,o mas.er hi, agi.a.ion, he rn.hed up ...ir., and fairly
bol.ed h,m.elf ■„.„ hi, bedroom. This nervousness con.inued for a w
^ZtlZt"". "'"''''■" '"" '° """'" ">■ ^"""S"' •"<' -"king ac.
CO d,ngly one hero.c exer.,on, rushed a second .ime down stairs, threw
^orlivil; rre7'™"" "■"■ """ '■'■''"'' ''""'" ■='--=" '" '"» "- "f "
An ius.a„. longer, and he wa. a. much a. home a. ever; for only
to be Her .Majesty,) and above all, hi, old acquaintance Colonel Vernon.
dressed in deep mourninir. »>,.I «,«..! ts, . ""™.
l.;.j... 1,. > ', . „'■ " "' "" '="''"'en6nee llie proofs of
h.s daughter', death. On shaking hand, with this la.,, poor Edward was
62
THE AUTHOK
W U'--
dreaJfully affected: the veteran. ,„„. seemed scarcely lea, agitated, and
turned aside his head, apparently to hide a tear.
h s son, and graspmg h,™ kindl, by the hands, thus, in the presence of all.
Edward, I trust at an end ; and once again you return to your father's
ry'ou IZT"' "T', "■ '" '""'"'"'- - ^' y^" "./never erJed
,LJI • t :• '"' ' ""' •'"'"^q"»i"'ed with your follies, you are
mistaken I knew them fron, first to last ; your own countenance when
y u v,s,.ed me at Xmas, he.rayed your secret ; but I was resolved. 7Z
you had chosen your own path, that you should continue in it, till it dosed
as I foresaw ,t would, in severest retribution. At that critical moment. I
»>epped ■„ ; and well knowing your abode, with which I had been pre-
you rash boy from destruction. Thus much with respect to the past ; let
us now consider the future. Vou are born, you know" to an estate, a^ply
If V r e „ n '"J '"™ "," """■ "'"' '""''y "PP'-"" '"^ happiness
of your condition, I am resolved that you shall spend some time in travel.
Meanwhile a circumstance that lately occurred, and which hastened my
arrtval at Tooke's Court, has raised you. my boy, as high in a father's 2
miration as a son could possibly wish. Two friends of mine, who on their
.Ta mosTf ' Mf V '"™"'""' '°"^'' "" ^ '^y '" I'""''-' "«- "P"--!
o a mos rightful catastrophe, from which, however, your courage saved
the daughter, and m consequence, the father's life. You remember the
fire at Furnival's Inn 1"
" f erfcctly." replied Edward with astonishment.
" That young lady. then, whom you so chivalrously rescued, is now re-
siding m this house; and as I am well acquainted with her worth, and
Jourwife" '° "' "'° ^°" """"' ^°'°"' ' '"''• ' '""'"" '° P'°P"" '■" "'
..Never" interrupted Edward, •■ I will obey you. Sir, in every other par.
fcular, but my heart, (and he wef as he spoke,) lies buried in the same
grave where Laura also sleeps."
'■I feel for yon, situation," resumed Mr. D.ubigny ; ..but since sorrow
cannot raise the dead, and this young lady possesses to the full those
charm, you so much admired in IVfis, Vernon ; nav. even resemble. h„, ,„
cuunionance, there duroly can be no harm in—"
"Dear, dear father." replied Edward, •■ I entreat you not to mention the
subject! Colonel jrnon plead for me.— "
I it (
THE AUTHOR
63
The frequent mention of his daughter's name, had effectually subdued
the veteran, and he had accordingly walked to a distant part of the win-
dow, with his handkerchief placed before his eyes.
"You refuse then to submit to my proposals!" added Mr. Daubigny
« I am sorry, Sir, that in this instance alone I cannot ; in every other"-
"Enough-enough," interrupted his father, then suddenly raisin- his
voice, "come forth, my fair unknown," he exclaimed, "and tell thfs in-
comgible boy that though I cannot raise the dead, I can at least produce a
substitute, to whom, even he, ungrateful as he is, must yield "
At this in.tant the folding doors flew open, and there, arranged in all her
blushing beauty, stood the spirit of the deceased Laura
"Can the grave yield up its dead?" said Edward, with amazement;
speak Laura angel Laura, speak, oh ! let me hear your voice," and he
rushed half dehrious towards her.
At this affecting sight, Colonel Vernon, who had resumed his station in
the circle, burst mto a violent fit of laughter, which was instantly succeeded
by a gentlemanlike flood of tear.. Mr. Pope and Mr. Daubigny applied
also to the snuff.b.x somewhat u.tener than was their wont, while Her
Majesty fairly sobbed aloud. In a few minutes, however, the whole party
had recovered their serenity ; when his father thus again addressed him-
self to Edward : " You are surprised, I see, at this resurrection, but listen,
my boy while I thus explain the miracle. On your quitting Cambridge.
I well knew that if you kept up a correspondence with Miss Vernon, her
accomplishments would effectually ensnare you, that your thoughts would
be for ever reverting to Huntingdon, and that in short you would be fit for
nothing I therefore agreed with the Colonel that we should spread the
report of her death, partly as a punishment due to your extravagance, and
partly that you might, on hearing of her decease, push your own fortune
with more spirit, and enter with a less abstracted mind into the bustling
scenes around you. I calculated, of course, upon your affliction, but I
calculated also on your youth and natural energy, and am delighteu to find
that I have not altogether been mistaken. You have now seen. I believe,
some little of the world, and having thus tasted of its bitters, it is fit tha
you should enjoy its sweets."
At this moment, perceiving his son's eyes turned somewhat reproach,
lully on Laura, Mr. Daubigny addressed him :
" y^^ 5 u„_j^ FJward. thai she too could so long preserve the secret
of her existence. Believe me, she is altogether innocent ; w.. persuaded
her of your inconstancy, your heartlessne^s, your devotion to some more
64
65
di
tv
h
a
I
h
I
THE AUTHOH.
•hn:„L","e';;:;' :J!;";° -''ed ^Pon .he poor gi,„ „ ,
counted r,„ „ ""■' "''■'^li by some nh ' '"'»""■", lo men-
Vre roce V r '"'^'■'"=""»J' explained „ 1 " ""' ""'»- t"°'» and
•i»"ea, Dei; e" ■'^"''"""■''''"'"bae af. r ^""-"'^ - a p,a„
" ^^r. Pope " int '"*'^' aban-
«"» going to offer hrT/'^ ^'' ^'"'"'^y' " ^ I'eg pardon fn ,.
:'7it;"^£-H "■"•■'■■■••■-•■-•■•■"••
ieast be devoted to iod Z' '"^'^"3^' ^'^^^ a laugh, .^ ip. ,.;
you please " **. ,, "'°"''' to-morrow von Z ^" °"*^ ''^^^ ^^
i ««^- So ends tlic Author. ^ " "^"-^ 1^""«' as n.uch as
"Klg.
' 'P«''f.gs, that
'e^er, to njer.-
'Tft to be ac-
•ese p/ots and
''Ut that jou
ood a wife as
in