THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES //(J-'^^-l,-^ j jF]RO:K'TI§riE€E 0MB TW7h Artincis, Sed -popidari -tiiOznei ^stmairtu?^ . dc de Ch\ Ihcr f!?'r vu}t we^lied occot^cIjjw to prorate TTcjudice hvt in die Balmice of I^tblic opzmvn . JLouDon Cl)aracters ; OB, ANECDOTES, FASHIONS, and CUSTOIMS, OF THE PRESENT CENTURY. BY SIR BARNABY SKETCHWELL, ^ r ^o, SCENE AND PORTRArrrATS l^R TO THE ARCTLE-ROOM3, AND OTHKH fLAClS Df tlfGAVTRKSOKT. _ IX TWO VOLUMES. £mbcUi»hed vith appropriate and humorout Tngrat'ni^f.. TIIC SECOND EDITION, WITH ADDITIONS AND IMPROVEMENTS. was clique est forlonn how, ll foutUh or wicked, I'il Uold up to SUovr. h-. i>» VOL. L LONDON: 1 RIMED FOR B. CROSBY AND CO. STATION EIIS'-COURT, LUDGATi: STREET ; AND SOTD BY THE BOOKSELLERS IN BOND-STREET, PIC- CADILLY, AND TALL-MA LL; ALSO AT BRIGHTON, MAR. «>ATE, CHELCENriAM, BATfl, WORTHING, WEYMOUTH, ANDOriltU TASIIIONAELE PLACES. 1809. S -i 5 X P R E F A C E. -i fno detached Ideas on the Life, Ta^ lenis, and Works of tJte Avthor, . Sni Barnaby Sketchwell was born in Derbyshire^ in the }ear 176S. His parents were not rich, but of a most respectable and ancient family inthe county. Honesty and virtue rocked bis cradle; they whispered their heavenly principles into his infant car ) and he walked ever since in the- path of recti- tude. » His heart was naturally good, his mind liberal : education perfectioned both* a fa IV PREFACE. Music and poetry amused his youthful days; painting and morality were the ob- jects of his attention^ since he approached the meridian of his life. He sang well; wrote little; painted much : his fame will last as long as Ihe love of virtue and an innate well-di- rected zeal against vice will find parti- zans and friends. The honour of knighthood was bestow- ed upon him by the best of Sovereigns, as a token of esteem for one of his best subjects. His situation, his fortune, the extent of his talents, the variety of his con- nexions, enabled him to bring within his compass both the zenith and the nadir of society. He loved ail men, pitied many, and imitated nobody— he was an original. PREFACE. V As he never spoke of himself, we shall say but a few words concerning thes(j pages, his last production. In the bitterness of his heart he saw how corruption stalked awav, and pro- gressively invaded all the districts of the social empire : he grew wroth, and, dis- pleased at his coteniporaries, he took up the pen of criticism. As he expressed in the countenance of those he painted the very perceptions and passions of their mind, he could not help using, in his v/ritings, the vivid tints of a picturesque and glov^ang style ; and his works are full of images and por- traits In vain, said he to himself, the daily eloquence of dignified or popular preach- ers thunders in all churches, chapels, aS VI PnEFACE. rneeting-IiouseSj and tabsniales^ from St. Paul's to the brick-fields of Somer's- inwn ; in vain the pen of our dramatists^ fiom the immortal Swan of the Avon^ (Town to the croaking farce-writersof the iitfle theatre in the Jlajmarket^ have < xposed to ridicule^ in all kind of shapes and descriptions^ the votaries of vice and folly; no reform is to be expected. The Serpentine rivcr^, and the bason in the Park^ rejiect on their conscious waves tjic ghosts of the- bodies which foul Suicide has polluted their waters with. Gambling swears and rages aloud^ witk utmost madnesss and despondency, in St. James's and Gerrayn-street. Crim. Cox. with unheard of impudence^ drives the horned cattle to the forum, from the "west end of the town to Shored itch and the Borough 5 and^ through all the columns of our newspapers^ sly Elopement^ with the post-chaise in rea- EEFACr.. VII dinesSj steals ofF our daughters and wives, escapes to the out of-the-way inn, aiid gallops into public scandal. No! no ! reform is not to be expected till wesh.ow Vice and her enormities to herself, and make her blush. • It is a fact^ which an attentive perusal of these volumes will place beyond doubts tljat, although Sir Barnaby was eminently gifted with sharpness of point in sketch- ing, correctness and truth of contours in delineating, and brightness of colouring in bis finished pieces, yet he never intended to libel any one of his fellow- creatures. Like his beloved master, the divine Raphael, who painted not this or that individual, but selecting the most inter- esting parts from all existing features, exhibited the general countenance of man under the influence of all sorts of pasMons, a 4 VIU PKEFACE. Sir Barnabj chose amongst his nurrrerous models what suited best his purpose. To cause the least perturbation in the mind of the good would have made him wretched : as for the vicious^ the arrogant knave, the arrant fool^ he did not care a straw. Peace, he thought, cannot be disturbed where she is not ; and it is not 'u\^ the turbulent and putfid fermentation of a cankered heart her olive branch caa ever shoot and thrive. Sir Barnaby died a few days before the publishing of this work. His wife and children have inherited, not of his wcalih, for he had none ; but of his vir- tues, and he had many. ills remains were deposited in the earth at Paddington. The virtuous will drop a tear on his grave ; whilst the wicked will shudder at the least breeze which agitates the lofty trees that wave their heads over his tomb. ADVERTISEMENT. The Editors, and Representatives of Sir B. Skctchwelly take the liberty to present their most sincere Thanks to the Nobilit}^, Gentry, and the Public in general, for the warm and effectual Patronage with which they have honoured the First Edition of this Publication. They are happy, also, to have it in their power to communicate to them the pleasing intel- ligence of Sir Barnaby*s death being now a matter of great doubt ; and that they cherish the fond hope of seeing him again employ his talents in the praise of Virtue, and the detection of Vice, CONTEXTS TO THE FIRST VOLUME. A Morning Conversation • . 1 Characters of the Duke and Duchess of Pyrmont •—they retire to their Country-seat — a De- scription — Strictures on Eyebrows — Fashion- able Life— an Episode — Man naturally incon- stant — a determined Taste for Old Women — an English Ninon — a Dismission— an Anec- dote — a Seizure Observations — a Portrait— a French Count — speak v/ell of the Dead — a fashionable Definition — injur^ Wor4:h. de- fended — a Bond-street Adventure — a finished Sketch— a sentimental Touch— a fashionable Driver — a Mistake — a Scheme for Country Pas- time, agreed upon — a Recipe for enlarging the Eyes — the Duchess turns blind^ — a Consolation —her Amusements. a6 Xll CONTENTS, Lady Frances Sunbury • . S3 Her Portrait — her meeting Lord Francis Sun- bury — Appeal to the Heart — an innocent De- lusion — they return to London — the Bans are pubHshed — the Lovers are united — a vi- sible Change— she bears it with Patience— re- tires to the Sea- shore — Conclusion^ The Duke of Warton . . 47 His Dresssing-room — his Search after Pleasure — his Motives for leading a single Life — Re- flections — an Anecdote — casting Lots for JFa- thcrhood— he is declared Father —returns to his favourite Pursuit — his excellent Qualities over-balance his Faults. Mrs. Arlington . . . ^9 A fair and just Defence— a Caution to married Women — Damage hunting Husb and — aWord en passant — Bribery — Nothing can compen- sate the Loss of a good Wife — she was skilled in Intrigue — Conclusion. Sir Jacob Sampson . . . 69 His Character— and Friend^Admonitions re- CONTENTS, XllI ccived with Contempt — his untimely Death — Observations on Suicide — Conclusion. Animadversions . . . 77 A ludicrous Adventure — the Catastrophe — Plan for future Readings — deserved Censure on demi-nudity — "Women are fond of the Approbation of sensible Men — the Age of the Duchess — a Hint to the Reader. The Hon. Mrs. Fernonville . 83 Liberty of Thinking and Acting — Visits at the Bed-side — Transparency of Dress— Danger of Example and Manners — Half a Word to the wise — Conclusion, Sir Charles Grainger^ and Lady Ikgleby • . 95 A Seducer is a faithless Friend — a Family formed to please the Fair — no Palliation for Guilt— a great Example of Mercy — Money a Compen- sation for Shame — a Parallel— a French Hus- band — my Lord not perfectly right-^a male Friend to a "Wife— Reflections — Conclusion, XIV CON rENTS, Fashionable Lite . .10.7 The Duke of Pyrmont — the Fashionables -a Description of smart Costume-^ fashionable Breakfast — real Jockeyism — Jack Spindle pourtrayed— how to spoil and weaken a Child — vain Efforts at Imitation- — elegant Conver- sation without Meaning— Cousin Tom — his Friends and Customers— deplorable Indiffer- ence of the Duchess— Conclusion. Sir Edward MoRETON . . l'!23 A Character— a Man of Economy and Prudence — old-fashioned Ideas — Conclusion. • .„ ';r The Hon. Mrs Egerton, or the Vic- tim OF Call'mny , . 129 Elopes from the Boarding-school— becomes giddy — creates Envy, and causes Eclat — quizzes and' writes Epigrams — acquires new Acquaintances — the Army a dangerous Place for a young Fe- male — she is warned by the Doctor, and at- tacked byCalumny— falls in a Swoon— -sees her CONTENTS. XV Error — her Husband's generous BehaTlour — she comes to London — her ci-devant Gover- ness — retires " to the Sea-side— the Clouds clear up — she goes to the East Indies— re- turns to England — Conclusion. Sir Theodore Bridges . . 147 Seduction described— Clarissa Wakefield— Cun> ning and Hypocrisy — Inconstancy' and Levity —a new Mistress — an une:x:pected Confession —its Effects-^Impudence of the Seducer— a — Mystery unray e llcda fair Expostulation— Reflections --a Wish. Mrs. Villeneup . . » 101 The Danger of male Friends — catching Birds as they fly — a chance Lover — a Rendezvous — a mild and tender Censor — Love no one but your Husband — a narrow Esoipe — a painted Transparency — Conclusion. XVl CONTENTS. Sir Marmadure Brooks 171 Observations — Union of congenial Souls — a trne honest Man — refined Economy— Avarice chills the Heart — Conclusion. Lady Laura Pemberton . 179 Her Character — she appears a dashing "Woman — her Husband goes Abroad — a rigid Disciple ©f the Old School — she repairs to a Cottage Orne — her Husband's Return — he drags her Children from her — she trembles for her Daughter — recovers from Illness — a Deed of Separation — Reflections — she deserres Enco- mium — Conclusion. Joseph Baxter, Esq. . .195 His Apartments a true Microcosm — his Means — his Haunts— the only Fault he ever com- mitted — his Diary. The Hon. Cavendish Worsley. 203 A Bacchanalian — Hunting Parties— no strong Penchant/or the Ladies— his Kennel — Canine Physiognomy— Conclusion, GONTEIi^TS. ^\H The late Countess of Eastwood ; OR, The Penitent Wakderer . 211 Disparity of Fortune — a superb F^te— an old Flame revived — her Fortune increases— her Guilt—no Comforts in a dissipated Life — Re- pentance and Death — a Coronet no Pledge of Happiness — Conclusion , A Man of Mystery; or. Sir Wm. Featherington. , . 225 Character of a Clergyman— Sir Wm. Feather- ington in a Fracas — his Origin— he plays at Hide-and-Seek —Outlines of a Picture —a Por- trait — Sunday Evening Readings and Pas- times — Conclusion. Occasional Remarks . , 245 Reflections — Variety of Opinion concerning Sunday Evening Parties — the Way to get a Living — the Empress of the Eirch — Economy in high Life— the Art of saving a Dinner — XVlll CONTENTS. Speculation — a Dialogue— the Refusal— the Works of Calumny — a Confidence — Conclu- sion. Mrs. Percival . . 261 Description of her Person — her Abilities ex- amined — :she changes her Manner — her Ta- lent for the Dance— her Plan for a Life Esta- blishment — her Rival— a Brother's Duty — she triumphs over her Rival — she is a Favourite witJi everyone — her Rival is forgotten — a dis- tant View of a Coronet — Conclusion. George BIeadowes, Esq. . . 279 A Sketch— the Danger of keeping a handsome Maid — Loves makes him neglect the Law— a Resolution upon Oath^ he declares his Passion — a Temptation— a Dialogue between the Ri- vals — Fortitude and deserved Reproof — the Bans are published — Mrs. Meadowes' Cha- racter — the remaining Stigma of Servitude — Letter — paternal Anger — the Storm is abated ' — sisterly Kindness— Power of Harmony— a Crisis a Scheme inView— the Catastrophe — the Reconciliation— Death of his Father— CONTENTS. XlX Pregnancy — a Sketch after Nature— a guilty Conduct— his Folly increases —Embarrassment Conclusion. Lord and Lady IIurst . . 307 Introduction— early Risings— College Education — his Appearance in the great World — his Marriage— their Children — Conclusion, Criticism Below-Stairs S\5 A distressing Accident — a Nurse assigned to Bijou — Mrs. Blump— and her Lovers— she will hesir of Love no more— her Cascades through Life— the Butler— his Amours— MissWinker — • the French Cook— Miss Sharpe— the Irish Va- let — Jane Ware — a Discovery — Vice and Folly in common Life — the fatal Bank-note — More petty Scandal — Explanation — Love Stanzas — Reflections— the Story of the Brewer and Mrs Shark— Interlocution— his Letter to his Prote- gtc — a loud Laugh— a Bustle — Conclusion. LONDON CHARACTERS. A MORNING CONVERSATION, Parcere Personls dicere de Vitiw, f* I AM astonished at the homeliness of your ideas, and your strange misconcep- tion of fashion,'' said the once lovely Duchess of Pyrmont to the elegant young woman who was seated beside her^, and who was essaying to render an incorrect drawing in some degree tolerable. '^ I ■only remarked, madam/* said Lady Char- lotte Stanmore, '' that, I thought the conduct of Lady Westbourn very unbe- coming for a person of her years/* ^' And it was that very ridiculous re- mark which so much distresses me,** said yoL. I. B 2 LONDON CHARACTERS. Characters of the Duke and Duchess oT Pyimont. the Duchess. " Was it not that 1 was for a twelvemonth confir-ed to your fn- ther's societ} in the coiiutry, at one pe- riod of my lifcj to retrieve my constitu- tion from a round of dissipation; I should really think you had been the offspring* of «ome romantic fool instead of his/' " My dear DuchesSj now you are jesting", I am sure/* said Lady Charlotte. Her mother gave her a look of contempt, and quitted the room for the important busi- ness of the toileite. Lady Elmira Seabright, the present Duchfcss of Pyrmont, had been married, not at a very e?ArIy age^ to the Duke. They were congenial souls, and yet they detested each other : both courted fashion and dissipation, in whatever form they chose to present themselves. The Duke was a man of Herculeaii make, and strong- er in his constitution than in his nsind; the latter was easily warped, the former seemed invulnerable to all attacks. The A MORNING CONVERSATION. J They retire to their Country Seat. " --■'• frame of the Duchess^ more delicate, seemed sinking under the frequent re- petitions of revelrv;. Sleep was banish- ed from her nig'ifs, and the morning avocations of receiving* and returning visits, attending auctions, various exhi- bitions and fashionable loungiKg shops^ prevented her experiencing, from the som- niferous god, that benefit v^'hich might en- able her to recruit her declining strength. The wealthy Duke wished for an heirj but four years had elapsed and no pro- spect presented itself of such a blessing; an absolute order from the physicians compelled the weeping fair one to ac- company her Lord to an hur.ting-box^ situated above one hundred miles from the capital. Here, to the great disap- pointment of the Doke, at the end often jnontlis, his Duchess presented him wath his daughter. Lady Charlotte, and, after a lapse t>f five years, his grace became the delighted father of a son, B 2 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Description. Dissipation, more than timCj had made sad havoc in the charms of the Duchess ; no art was left untried to repair those de- vastations ; but in spite of Sicilian bloom, Circassian pomatum, and all the ransack- ed stores of the perfumers' shops, the perfidious wrinkles would appear ; the bared throat presented a jellow tinge, which no art could disguise ; the azure circle encompassed the sinking eye ; and the anatomical stay in vain exerted its elastic force to render full and plump the fast-w ithering bosom: Yet the blind vanity of the Duchess of Pyrmont made her in- sensible to these decays * ; she was rich. * The art of the toilette is not of modern inven- tion 5 Homer and Anacreon give us to understand that women in their times were already great profi- cients in the elegant science, and the beautiful de- scription of the Cestus in the Iliad, is a proof that the Masonian Bard had a pe?p into the feinale Arsenal; Esther and Judith ©f old, were full aware of its powerful influence on the eyes of the stronger sex j A MORNING CONVERSATION*. O A Description continued. she lived in splendor, she gave sumptu- ous dinners^ she was the daughter oi\ and, thanks to our imitative dispositions, we can boast here of as great a skill in the art as any other nation. The love of dress attends the cradle of the infant girl, and grows with woman through life ! But the mo ment when all its strength is put in immediate re- quisition, its tricks most usefully played, and all its batteries directed towards half the world, is when the climacteric age of forty approaches. Then the goddess of the Toilette and her retiiiue, the milliner, the perfumer, the hair-dresser, must bring their auxil- liary assistance, and do wonders. I have been told many a time that my great aunt, the Baroness of Quincey, was born without the least appearance of Eye-brows, and that as the brightness and eloquence of her eye, the regularity of her face, and the deli- cacy and sweetness of her smile, made full amends for the deficit, myriads of admirers fluttered about her when young, and that her marriage with the noble Baron, insured to her as mucn happinef^s as may be the lot of any mortal being. Yet, wondrous to tell ! as soon as she arrived at that critical period, when the natural bloom of youth vanishes, she re- flected on her countenance, and it struck her, for the first time, that she never had any Eye-brows. She B 3 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Note on Eye-b'ovs. and wife to a duke> both of the most an- cient nobility. There was elegance about had never given a thought to it before 3 though she allowed them to be a very pretty sort of ornament to the " crystal wioGOws of the soul." What's to be done? Lavip'black, ground in spiritof ^/wo-er, the dr.rh ashes of a hain-lone reduced to impalpable pow- der in a well' luted crucible, the siiuffo( wax-candles kneaded with fresh buttery all was tried by the skil- ful hand of Betty the chambermaid, but to little pur- pose, for the elegant implements seemed to add mere to her years than to her charms ; although these fas- titious arcs of ebony colour were often accompanied with the black patch to heighten the whiteness of the skin, and turn away the sight from the incipient wrinkles. The dear Baroness carried her adscititious brows to the age",of seventy, and died of a fit of laughter at loo, with three trumps in her hand. Her casCj and that of the Duchess, remind me of the followitig strophe of an ode to IVisdom, which, when at school, I inserted in my common- place book. *' La Beautc n'est qu'un bien frivole *• Qu'un Souffle, un rien pent nous ravir •, ^' Elle brille et bientot s'envole '^ Pour jamais ne plus revenir : A MORNING CONV£ftSATION. 7 Fashionable life. hcr^ and a something yet piquant and beautiful in her countenance ; so that flatterers still buzzed their soft nonsense in her ear^ and she thought herself as young' and lovely as ever. She therefore trod on the steps of those fashionable fe- males, who heed neither age nor the mar- riage tie, but are determined ^' to live all the days of their lives." The Duke^, perfectly indifferent to her, let her fol- low her own inclinations, while he pur- sued his, without restraint or control. The scandalous tale of the day had reached the ears of Lady Charlotte Stan- more, and had given rise to the remark which disgusted the Duchess, to think '* Chloris par mille cosmetiques *' Veut couvrir scs rides antiques '^ Et resusciter ses attraits; '^ Mais c'est envain qu'elle s'abuse, '* Ni le carmin, ni la ceruse ^' Ne la rajeuniront jamais.'* Chaulieu B 4 4 8 LONDON CHARACTERS, An Episode. lier child should adopt such an obsolete idea as to blame a woman^ ^\ho was ra- ther stricken in years^, for a few pecca- dillos. The Duke of Kersbruch^ a nobleman \vhose ancestors came from Germany, ^vas handsome, learned, and possessed of every requisite to form the finished gen- tleman. He was at that period of life^ which, when it is not impaired by a too eager and invariable pursuit after plea- sure, is, of all others, the most desirable in man ; he was forty and some odd jears ; but he had so wasted his days and patrimony in continued excess, that, though he still preserved his beauty, he v/as older in constitution than some men at sixty. ^ He had been unhappy in his marriage, though united to a virtuous and lovely woman, because, as is too often the si- tuation of greatness, iuclination bore nt» part in the union. A MORNING CONVERSATION. 9 Vita naturally mcoi.stanf Long before this marriage, he had at- tached himself to a Mrs. O'Meara^ the beautiful widow of an Irish officer. She was much older than the Duke*, but so mentally as well as personally endowed, that he entirely devoted himself to her. The nature of man is naturally prone to love variety ; and the Duke of Kersbruch^ always fond of the sex, could not remain entirely constant to this cherished female; though she was yet lovely in her person, and the charms of her conversation were * Mrs. O'M ... is of the most agreeable tem- per, and gentle manners ; and we apprehnd that she was the toast of the day, by the three F's, Fat, Fair, and Forty. Some dry commentators on the age of women, some ladies of the old school who are so fond of lending to others theconcealed superflus of their years, are of opinion that the bewitching eye of the lovely Countess had then stared her fifti- eth birth-day in the face. But it is all mere suppo- sition, and whatever may be the date of her birth, she is a full confirmation of this saying— A'o/i sens* B 6 10 LONDON CHARACTERS. A determined taste for Old Women. SO fascinating, that tlie Duke began to fancy there must be something peculiar- ly attractive in the possession of old wo- men ! He therefore attachedhimself for some time to the old Countess of Harborough, to the great grief of Mrs. O'Meara; she, however^ had soon t]ie happiness of recalling the wanderer^ and he became more firmly her captive than ever ; but the demon of caprice soon raised up another and more powerful rival in the Marchi- oness of Westbourn ; for her mental charms were united to personal in an im- minent degree^ and Lady Westbourn, though past fifty, gained a complete tri- umph over the wayward heart of the amorous Duke. The course of love^ a learned writer remarks, is never to run smooth. The town rang with an event, which had re- cently taken place, and, as a scandalousv A MORNING CONVERSATION. 11 An English IS'iaon. anecdote was ever welcome at the Duchess of Pyrmont's breakfast table, her favourite emigre Count had given it to her^ with several embellishments ; and the Duchess called Lord Westbourn a brute, while Lady Charlotte blushed at the conduct of his lady. The truth was literally thus. The Duke of Kersbruch, enraptured with the attractions of the Marchioness of Westbourn^ followed her like her sha- dowj was incessantly at the country- hou^e of the Marquis, where he had very seldom been before ; tiil at lengthy Lord Westbourn, having, it is imagined, seen some little liberties taken with his vene- rable moitie, which he did not altogether approve, in as polite terms as he could to a man of the Duke's high rank, gave him to understand that his visits would be easily dispensed with in future ; but this English Ninon, was not so easily given up by her enamoured lover ; p,nd B 6 13 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Digmission. at the superb town mansion^ in one of the fashionable squares^ the husband found this highly- favoured cicisbeo in a situation with his wife^ which he con- ceived no man had a right to appear in but himself. Without any respect to precedency of rank, my Lord instantly ordered th^ stoutest of his servants to turn the Duke out of doors ; who, hastening to his car- riage, narrowly escaped a good flagella- tion, which they were prepared to give him in case of resistance. This affair was soon buzzed through the metropolis ; much to the affliction of Mrs O'Meara, and to the triumph of the Duke's enemies; it added besides new seeds of discord to the menage of the Marquis and Marchioness. Soon after the Duchess of Pyrmont had completed her toilette, the hopes of the A MORNING COKTERSATION. 13 An Anecdote. family made his appearance. He entered exclaiming, '^ News ! news ! You will scarce believe what a ludicrous scene has just taken place. By heaven^ I was com- ing through Leicester Square, and who the dcuse do you think I met arm in arm, just like honest Darby and Joan, walking as fast possible, and all the lit- tle world staring at them as if they had dropped from the clouds, or as if they had imagined the noble pair did not know how to walk ?— Come, now% my dear Lady Duchess, guess if you can !" ^'^I cannot think of any Lady I am acquaint- ed with I am sure, that would be walk- ing this windy day.'* '' Guess the gen- tleman then." '' Oh ! perhaps the rich Sir Marmaduke Brooks, who w alks out in an old greasy hat and a coat a cobler would not be seen in." '* That would be no wonder, my dear Duchess, he is the pearl of eccentricity. But it was no other than the great Earl of Albania and 14 LONDON CHARACTER?. A Seizure. Lis charming Countess ! do not lift up jour hands and ejes in astonishment^ be- cause thej were seen walking together^ but hearken to the cause. '^ Lord Francis Sunburj^ the Earl's brother^ is most confoundedly out at el- bows ; an execution is lodged in his house^ and^ in shorty as his numerous creditors cannot touch his person^ they are determined to seize hold on ail they can/' '^ The Countess this morning borrow- ed the carriage of Lord Francis to pay a few visits, and while she was in it^ those villanous sharks laid their unhallowed Jhands upon it. Luckily her husband passed by at the time ; handed out his trembling Countess, and with that po- liteness which characterises almost all the branches of his family, attended his lady home." [' Politeness 1"^ said Lady A MORNING CONVERSATION. 15 Observations. Charlotte, — '' My deaf brother, what must he have been if he had not attended her home ?" '' Duchess, this gifl reads novels, I think,'' said the Marquis of Waltham : '' She appears to have some strange un- fashionable ideas/' Heaven knows," re- plied her Grace, '' where she has im- bibed them.'^ '' Oh ! she will know better bye and bve," said the Marquis j ^' I do detest all women till they become the property of another man ; none but married women can please me.'* Such were the sentiments of the Mar- quis of Waltham, and such we are sorry to say seem 'prevalent in this century ; as a learned character in the law justly ob- served in a late interesting trial ; '' Cu- riosity is no longer seen with out-stretch- ed neck, to catch at a v/hisper ;" so of- ten are actions brought against an illicit lover for the seduction of, we are sorry to remark, a too often injured wife. / 16 LONDON CHARACTERS, The Marquis of Waltfiam, only heir to the titles and estates of the Duchy of Pyrmont^ aged eighteen onlj, was al- ready a mature sprig of fashion ; fast living, and a knowledge of most of the health-sapping vices^, had given to his naturally eft'eminate countenance an old and sallow appearance ; an hollow eye, a concave cheeky a spindle form, and pro- minent chin^ and an under-sized figure^ completed the tout- ensemble of a mean looking meagre being. He had a good natural understandm.ir, cultivated by a finished education ; but he was superci- lious, assuming and slanderous, and be- sides the darling of his mother, who weak, vain-minded and trifling, envisaged vice, if supported by fashion, not only with- out merited liorror> but with a sense of approbation. Several suitable matches had been pro- posed for her daughter; but the Duchess was sure to make some plausible objec- A MORNING CONVEGSATION. I? A French Count. tion to all ; dreading the horrid idea of becoming- a gTandmother. Her dressing-room and breakfast-table were the hot-bed of fashionable anecdotes^ prepared and detailed^ with numerous and well-timed additions^ bj an emigre nobleman, who never could be grateful enough to his dear Duke, nor sufficient- ly admire the ^^ superhe beauty," of Ma- dame la DucJiesse ; and this indigc7it French Count contrived, by his flatteries and well-laid schemes, to fill his owu coifers, and realize a considerable pro- perty, while he was the Duke's humble friend and factotum : and has even been able to lend a needy nobleman, suh rosd, the sum of five or six thousand pounds, at exorbitant interest ; while this man made himself agreeable to all ; sighed at the feet of the Duchess, and talked in the praise of virtue and sentiment with Lady Charlotte ; laughed at religion with the Duke and Duchess, and con--. 18 LONDON CHARACTERS. Speak well of the Deud verted men and maids to the catholic faiths he fed well^ and laughed and grew fat ; knew when, at proper seasons, to ridicule his own country^ and declared he was now beconfrc one complete Jean Bull ! '' And so/^ continued the Marquis of Wakham, taking up a nev/spaper, '^ The pretty little Lady Ashton is dead ! she ex- pired immediately after. .."— ^'Cease^ bro- ther^ I beg of you/' said the amiable Lady Charlotte; ''^Whcn we speak of the dead, (as my favourite author reaiarks,) we should tread softiv over their g-raves. If her life was not irreproachablCj her end was most awful !'* The Duchess of Pyrmont was possessed of an high share of ancient family pride ;. and though it is universally allowed, that a man always raises a woman to his own dignity, he her former situation in life ever so obscure ) yet title and family^. A MORNING CONVERSATION. 19 Observations. on botb sidesj were requisite to ob- tain a passport to an intimacy with her Grace. '' Why, Philip/' said she, '' do you entertain me with detailing the actions of snch little creatures as Lady Ashton ? "What else could Sir George expect, wlien h.e took her from her father's shop, to the rank of a Baronet's lady ? Such ele- vatioHs, when young women are possessed of vanity, make them know not where to stop ; and they think they are true imi- tators of the great, if they do but adopt their vices *," * This observation of the Duchess of Pyrmont is but too true ; and there is, in those sorts of under- mntchesy a hidden tendency to thai levelling sy?tera which being destructive of the long sailed distinc- tions of ranks and families, ms*" be in its es«^tT!ce inimical to social order. G/are Gregory mny ride the dickey with her coachman, but would never consent; to be led by him to the altar. m LONDON CHARACTERS. A Fashionable Definition. ^'^ What> 7J0U moraiizing, my dear Duchess ?" said her son ; '' pray tell me, what is vice, and what is virtue ? Mere names. If there is any meaning in the w^ord virtue^ I think the greatest consists in pleasing our inclinations ; else, depend upon it, chance would never have planted thena in our breasts. But my dear sister Grave-airs, do not look so solemn. I just now parted with the sweetest pair of sen- timentalists you ever beheld ; how I long- ed to bring them home to you ! But as to one of them, she never had any thing to say to me, and I am sure the other never will, for I know not who she is, and I shall never take the trouble to enquire. She is one of those kind of wo- men, not amiss, well enough ; but not worth the trouble of crossing the street to look at.*' '^ Who are these sentimen- talists, as you call them ?*' said Lady Charlotte. ^^ One, I tell you, I never saw before, the other was Ladv Laura Pern- berton/'-" A MORNING CONVERSATION-. 21 Injured Worth defended. ^' The honour of our sex, as she lias been the sufferer from the cruelty of yours'/' said Ladv Charlotte: ^' The only sensible and elegant woman, thought the DuchesS;, whose company I could ever support with any degree of patience : and she said aloud ; '' The circum- stances of Lady Laura's situaiion are pe- culiar, indeed; her prudence, in moments the most trying, her frankness, her ele- gance, and the whole turn of her mind, entitle her to the regard and protection of every one. If you, forgetful of what her situation, and the rank she still holds in society, require, have endeavoured to build any advantage for yourself on the negligence of an unfeeling husband, she treats you with the contempt you justly merit/' '' Bless yon, my dear Duchess," said Lady Charlotte, '' for thus pleading the cause of injured worth," and she prest her ruby lips on t-he varnished cheek of 22 LOKDOK CHAIIACTEHS. A Bond-street Adventure., her mother : the embrace was coldly suf- fered, not returned. ^' Oh !'* said the confused Marquis^ '' I was ever ready to acknowledge the loveliness of the divine Lady Laura. I think her an angelic creature. But come,, I must tell you the winding-up of my Bond Street adventures this morning. Lady Laura and her friend were march- ing through ranks of jewellery at Love's shop, when Lady Laura caught up a silver Serpent, fastened it round the most beautiful tresses in the world, and asked her friend if it was not charming ? The woman had the same opinion as myself; she did not like it. I approached them, and said, ' The head is divine, but not the ornament. Locks like those will be immortalized like Berenice's, and not like Medusa's. — By Heaven ! Lady Laura took no more notice of me, nor of what I said, than if I Lad been a pug dog. The dear sentimentalists seemed wrapped up A MORNING CONVERSATION. 23 A finished Sketch. in each other. Lady Laura, ever witty, ever happy in the association oT her ideas, presented her friend with an elegant but- terfly broach ; it was so apt, there seem- ed something o volagc about this friend, for never did I see before so much insig- nificance, and yet so much meaning, com- bined in a couiitenance made up of little trifling features. Her size and complexion were also equivocal, she was neither tall nor short, neulier fair nor brown, her eyes blue, her eye-brows and eye-lashes black, and her hair only two shades darker than the divine Laura's." '' You seem to have taken very circumstantial notice of her, 1 think/' said Lady Char- lotte. '' I did," answered her brother, '' because I immediately saw she was one of those women that please, we know not how, or why. She was quite Pope's Caljpso--, 1 am sure she could charm ; but it was without beauty, for like her ghe was. ** Just 720/ Ugly !• .^4 LONDON CHARACTERS, Maternal Feelings. She saw a beautiful cameo of Lord Nelson^ and presented it in return. The sweet beaming eyes of the feeling Laura ^ spoke volumes' of maternal tender- ness, while her lips faintly articulated^ ^ My boys I' '* ' The renowned Nelson^ im) doubt, l)rought the association to her mind/ said Lady Charlotte, ^ H^r youngest little boy has just entered the Navy/ '^ [So I understand^* said his Lordship. Well, they both walked oif, and I saw no more of them ; and they walked oft^ with elevated parasols ; and though the tassels of their ridicules brushed me en passant, they did not deign to cast one look at your humble servant." ^' But wbeii are we to leave town ? llere 's scarce any person of fashion left I A few country boobies are just come to gape at Vauxhall, return home in «. A MORNING CONVERSATION. 25 A Fashionable Driver. month;, and tell of the wonders they have seen in Liinnuiu Oh ! now I think on it, I must tell you a good thing of a sweet-looking country girl. As Tom Ken- worth jumpt off his box, equipped com- pletely en cocher, from the cape down- wards, and smacked his whip in the true driving siyle, like the French postillions he has heard on the continent, (but which here always gives the idea of a carman,) he stood, taking up the whole door-way of Madame Lanchestre's, the milliner. You know his size is not of the pigmy kind, and he increased his breadth by putting one arm a-kimbo. Thus he stood, gazing at the face of the pretty innocent, who seemed to wi^i to enter, but was abashed at the torrid, flaming counte- nance of the Cerberus who guarded the door. A respectable-looking country squire was just behind her. '' Papa,** said she, '*" I wish you would speak to that great coachman to ^ei out of the way!" Tom's auditory faculties are VOL. I. c 26 LONDON CHARACTEllS. A Mistake. amazingly quick ; the natural purple of his face was heightened by a glow of the deepest scarlet ; the colour it assumed would make a beautiful shot for a win- ter pelisse^, I assure you^ ladies. Poor Tom ! he walked away ready to burst wth disappointed importance and asto- nishment, that all the world, from the North to the South pole, should nat know the Honourable Thomas Kenworth of Grosvenor Square : and a new dashing Barouche stood close by, with a pair o^f the sweetest Arabians that ever Tatter- sal sold. To mount the hox he would not ; that would still dub him, in the eyes of the pretty lady, the coachman ex pro^ fesso, I stood at a convenient distance, enjoying the scene, and I do belive once he was inclined to force his way through the milliner's rooms to inform the stran- gers who he was, when suddenly, a bro- ther whip, in the person of Lord Somer- town, clapt him on the shoulder. Tom ^wished his lordship to mount the box. A MORNING CONVERSATION. 27 A Scheme for Country Pastime. My lord observed rather too much spirit in the Arabians, threw himself into the carriage ; and Tom drove again, in a very sneaking manner, and got out of the streetj as fast as pt)ssible." ^' My dear Philip, you are a mad, en- tertaining creature/' said the Duchess, '' We shall leave town positively next week, and what will you do with your- self amongst green fields and shady groves?" '' I think I will turn author, and scrib- ble for your Grace's amusement. I'll draw all the characters of our fashionable ac- quaintance, and read them to you on a Sunday, or when we are weary of a lit- tle innocent gambling; by the time* the midnight hour strikes, then, what I have compiled in the day, I will read to you till three ; and then we will court repose. The soft, candid, and sentimental partj excuses fpr our neighbour's failings, and c 2 28 LONDON CHARACTERS* The Plan agreed upon. all those pretty et cceteras, I will allot to Charlotte ; mine shall have the true zest of fashion^ scandal^ and the spirit of the times !'' " Excellent V said theDuchess ; ^'This will do ; our country amusements are ex- cessively insipid, owing to the immense distance of that horrid mansion from every fashionahle watering-place, and where we are ohliged to be immured for a few months every year. So much for parent's fancies ! It is a pity they are al- lowed to express more in their wills than merely to bequeath us their property; jthat is all a will is worth/' Alas ! the Duchess of Pyrmont little thought how truly she would be indebt- ed to her son, for a proposal formed in the giddy impulse of a thoughtless mo- ment ! A Lady, celebrated once for beauty. A MORNING CONVERSATION. 29 A Recipe for enlarging the Eyes. famous for her travels^ and always justly so for her literary talents and tastc^ had been married some years to a German Prince : she had been much in Turkey, had seen and known more of the cubt.Kns and manners of the Turkish ladies^ than any of her travelling predecessors. The eyes of the Duchess of Pyrmont were of a beautiful black, but rather small. The Princess had innocently told her, they had the true Turkish hue, in point of colour ; and that the Beauties of the Ottoman Empire had a custom of enlarging the orbit of their eyes, by a powder of lead ore, finely ground, and prepared with sweet-oil on a porphyry stone, and light- ly laid on with a camel's hair pencil, but cautioned the vain and silly Duchess against making use of it. To be admired for her personal charms, was the Duchess of Pyrmont's weak side : She caused the powder to be pro- cured ; and on the evening that she gave c8 30 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Duchess becomes blind. her farewell rout^ before her departure for the country, to a few noble friends who had not yet quitted London; when the stately rooms were beautifully adorn- ed with alabaster lamps, and the Egyp- tian rosewood urns, exhaled the powerful and odoriferous otto ; dressed completely in the costume a la Turqiie, appeared the smiling Duchess. Triumph sat over lier well-arched eye-brow, and on the enlarging circle round and under her eye-lids ; but, whether by a mistake in the preparation of the destructive pow- der, or that her Grace had not been sufficiently careful to keep it from the sight, a sudden and frightful dimness came over her once- sparkling eyes : with hor- ror she reflected on i]\G warning words of the Princess Benchaussen, when she said, '' My dear Duchess, pray take care, do not think of using it." The party was broken up ; faintings, histerics, succeeded each other through A MORNING CONVERSATION. 31 A Consolation. the night ; in vain she wished to behold another and another morning- ; the sight of the Duchtss was gone^ for ever ! Still she was a Dnchess ; she continued to be idolized and courted ; and she jet had ears open to the fiatterj of those shallow fops^ who, to gain access to her parties, and d. the world as his daughter^ and amj ly pro- vide for her. '^ Oli ! she is mine alone/' said the real father, '^ Well ! as wise Solomon said/* replied the Wit, ^' we will divide her : the mother has divided her affections between ns ; and though, trust me^ I do not mean to cut her in halyes, yeii as I am pretty confident that I have as much claim to Charlotte as yourself, •we will bring her up at our joint expencc, give her a good education, and that por- tion as shall entitle her to a respectable marriage ! " '' Since you quote scripture/* said the Duke, '' you prove, like the harlot who wished the child to be divided, that she is none of yours! — Hear me! she shall be, as I am sure she is, wholly mine, or I give up all claim to her/* The Wit, catching up a dice-box, said, '' Come! chance shall decide it/' Audit was so, apparently, decided : But it was d3 54 LONDON CRARACTEUg. He is declared Father. not chance, — no^ the gentle breath of the angel who presides over paternal affec- tion^ blew the dice ; and the Duke was declared^ without contradiction, the fa- tlier of Charlotte Horton! — And before thej threw ., it had been previously agreed between them, that whoever lost should never, by any word, direct or indirect, assert that kindred with her, which afterwards was sufficiently proved the Duke had the only claim to. The Duke of Warton acted the part of a kind and tender parent ; and while he enjojed the company of his Charlotte; happy in watching her improvements, seeing her caressed and admired, he gave up in a great degree, the ridiculous and continual change of his promiscuous amours. lie had the satisfaction of seeing her well and happily married to a nobleman ; and he soon relapsed into all the &iily Casting' lots for TatlieT^liood it ivas iwt cTiance .' jw ' But tfw (jenff^ hreaXJh or ihr. ^ripel wTw presides over pafy:9vial .itfectioJL, T?7ew the Dice . Tide. Vol l.Ttwe .5./.. THE DUKE OF WARTON. ^O Returns to his favourite Pursuits. licentiousness of his foraier life, liow made doubly ridiculous for liim to pur- sue, from his increasing infirmities, and a coniirmed old age, which no art is able to conceal or disguise. Yet he is determined to call in evcrj aid to preserve his complexion, and io give himself an air of youth; and he really does look tolerably well, for one \vho has led such a life, and told so m-my years. However, in scanning the Duke's cha- racter with impartiality, we shall rejoice to lind him a man more weak and vain, than wieked: he has loved women, gaming, and horse-racing; but he is not a married man ! — he has injured no oncj but himself J and his large fortune has been at his own disposal to employ as best pleases him. He is possessed cf manv excellent i>4 56 LONDON CHARACTERS. Mis excellent Qualities principles, which largely preponderate against his faults^ and will cause his lit- tle vanities to mount aloft, when weighed in iiiQ balance of charity and candour. He is most loyal to his king and country ; ready and honest ni the discharge of his tradesmen's bills : That his heart is warm arid affectionatCj his constant attachment tud conduct to his daughter unquestion- ably prove ; and that charity and bene- volence are inmates of his bosom, his mu- nificent assistance to the unfortunate and proscribed wanderers from a neighbour- ii)g nation, is a sufficient and ever-living testimony. If spontaneous and innume- rable charities, as we are assured, cover our sins, however irreat their multitude, lie has a claim to forgiveness, for he will prop up a falling institution by his libe- rality, and make it flourish in renovated strenath. When he hears of the wretch- ed suOerers from a dreadful fire, the ready thousand pounds fly from his ge- THE DUICE OF WARTON. 57 Overbalance his Faults- neroiis coffers : and if the friendly voice of Britannia invites her wealthy sons to support a laudable patriotism in any part of the world, his Grace's name blazes first with effective and superior radiancy on the list of the subscribers. How much better is he than the close- fisted miser, who because he docs no harm, is called a ^ood kind of a man, and under the sanctified appearance of a Christian^ hides a heart of stone ! d5 -^ 31RS. ARLINGTON. Jj^: . . . *' te saape vocanti Duram difficilis mane." Horat. 1 HIS lady was not miicli known in the fashionable world, and very little spoken of, until her marriage with Colonel Ar- lington ; and it is painful to relate, that even after her marriage, she was less taken notice of as a dutiful, constant, and affec- tionate wife, than she was in becoming the theme of general conversation, after she had formed a fatal attachment, which ended in her public disgrace ! Her husband, being a man of large for- tune, of a noble family, and appearing, in the opinion of the world, to live very hap- pily with her, each eye was turned with disgust at her faulty conduct, and every ear was open to the invective hourly poured forth on her blighted reputation^ Be it our part not to screen or palliate D G % f ^ ■ 60^^.^ LONDON CHARACTERS. A fair and just Defence. vice^ but fairly to investigate the fauHs on both sideSj ever to lean to the side of the weakest^ and prove the unhappy wife not always the sole aggressor. Certainly every proof was adduced of Mrs. Arlington's guilt ; but what might lead or uge her on to the commitment of it, is carefully concealed. We cannot forbear remarking, that very peculiar circumstances must influence a brother to welcome a proscribed wifc^ and grant her an honourable and safe protection! A brother is always tenacious of his sis- ter's honour^ and is seldom known to screen her, when guilty of the crime of adultery^ unless some strange concur- rences, which perhaps cannot be made public, induce him to it. Not one kind word is said in defence of Mrs. Arlington, though she does not fly to the arms of her seducer, but de- plores her fault in retirement, and seeks MRS. ARLINGTON. 61 A Caution to Married Women, consolation only from the soothings of fraternal aft'ection. Beautiful^ and in the prime of life^ she too easily lent an ear to the blandish- ments of flattery^ directed to her from a man of high rank and accomplishments in the absence of her husband. That part of her conduct admits of no defence. Gradual is the progress of \ice^ and the married woman must guard against re- ceiving protestations of love from any other man ; for when she listens with out- ward complacency;, and inward pleasure^ she is lost;, especially if the honour of her lover is not to be depended upon ; and little can be relied on where a man al- lows himself, in such a situation^ openly to profess his inclinations. Wc do not say that Colonel Arlington was purposely absent^, but after a hus- band has harboured suspicions^ why does he prefer aquatic excursions to the so- 63 LONDON CHARACTERS. Damage-hunting Hu'-baiulj cielj of an amiable woman^ and leave her unguarded and assailable ? W by not expostulate ^vith her ? why not tell her his suspicions ? or rather why not be more at home, increase his ownatteaiions and kindnesses towards her^ and thereby act on a generous mind in that safest manner of ensuring her virtue and his own honour, by so prevenling the lapse of hcr*s ? No, the sweet hopes of Stain- ing high damages are the temjjtation ; and men seem delighted with the gilded antlers, which they proclaim before all the world they wear. Even two hun- dred pounds from a livery-servant have had their charms for one of these da- mage-hunting gentlemen ; — Since he has ripped up the old frail iias of his guilty partner in the sweet expectation of ob- taining a little more, and he was not dis- appointed, for he gained one shilling J But Mrs. Arlington does not appear to be depraved j she might have been kind- MRS. ARLINGTON. 63 Observations. \y led back to virtue^ before she stepped into the path of vice : she now shrinks^ abashed, from the world, and conceals her shame under her brother's roof. Colonel Arlington seemed determined to find her guilt j : he went not himself to prevent the fatal assignation before it was too late ; but every plan was laid to proclaim her crime, and his own dis- grace, to the public. What officious, high-feeding landlady would lose her ov^n dinner, and sit, for an hour, v^atching the guests who fre- quented her house, had it not been pre- viously planned, and she well rewarded for it ? The chamber-maid, likewise, and ser- vants, seemed all to combine the force of preconcerted evidence, against the un- happy transgressor.~~And how often has the evidence of domestics been ptocured 64 LONDON CHARACTERS* A Word en-passant. to overthrow the quiet of families 1 Many instances could be adduced of false accu- sations being made by a worthless servant^ who had been turned away for neglect of dutv^ and thus has sought revenge. The world cannot have forgot, and surely it will be handed down for centu- ries to come, the cruel conduct of a Naval Officer of high rank in his profes- sion, tow ards a chaste and amiable wife; whom he had repeatedly treated with those indignities, which shock every mind possessed of any degree of delicacy, and her's peculiarly so: yet this woman, so pure, so refined, he scrupled not to accuse of incontinence with a black servant 1 And the poor wretch owned oa the trial, that he had been highly bribed to accuse his mistress: — By whom bribed? The horrid conviction too plainly speaks to the astonished mind ! Lord Berwick, the too highly-favour- # MRS. ARLINGTON. 65 Bribery. ed lover of Mrs. Arlington, could not be on such a degree of intimacy ^vitll the family, as it appears he was, without the knowledge of Colonel Arlington; and that the Colonel had his siijepicions, is but too evident, from every corroboratiiig witness adduced by servants. We can- not think much of the disinterestedness of the Inn-keeper's wife, because she refused the munificent bribe held out to her, to make her hold her tongue : '' From the abundance of the heart, the mouth will speak:'' And she said to his lordship, " No ; if I am silent, all the servants know it, and will not be so/' She there- fore felt convinced that, tempting ajs was Lord Berwick's offer to her, as he had not made the same to the servants, they would be sure to tell all they knew, if from motives of envy alone. It may na- turally then be surmised, that she was rewarded from another quarter. Think not, reader, that adultery is 66 LONDON CHARACTERS. Nothing can compensate the loss of a good W'fe. here palliated, or in the smallest degree defended ; but it is impossible to feel much pity for the man who ameliorates his fortune by his wife's and his own dis- grace. Did Lord Berwick take away money from Colonel Arlington ? How then could a few thousands compensate for the loss of a once-loved, once kind and faithful w ifc ? Could they restore her lest fidelity ; would not every guinea be expended of it remind him of his pre- sent dishonour and past happiness ? When an husband, so injured, asserts his honour, he should nobly refuse the paltry damages accorded him, and shew that lucre was not his motive for exposing the adulterous parties to the eyes of the world. Would a man wish, by obtahiing this gilding for his ornamented brow, to en- rich childrcji, tc whom it may be doubt- ful whether he has a trueparental claim? MUS. ARLINGTON. 67 She was unskilled in Intrigue. We are indeed concerned, when a wo- man of Mrs* Arlington's once fair charac- ter, lias thus violated her marriage vows. A seeming stranger to vice ; only one bil- let had she written to her illicit lover : artless, unskilled in sly intrigue, she tells him to come and see her, when her husband was from home, in the heariii-^' of her servants. She was pleased with Lord Berwick's conversation, she liked liis society ; and we must repeat that, we find her frequently left tfo solitude : for the evidence against her says, his Lordship came -ccrij often, and always wlien the Colonel was/r^/» home. These visits could not be planned on the part of Mrs. Arlington, as she never sent but one note to his Lordship. When she had taken the last fatal step, which sunk her, and her hitherto spot- less fame, into the abyss of infamy, when discovered, she uttered, that, it was the 68 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. first time she had been imprudent! She gave it too gentle a term ; for we really believe it was ilicjirst, (and we may be led to suppose^ from circumstances that followed, the last) time she had been criminal !* » The following lines of a celebrated poet, should not be understood as a rale for married people : Curse on all laws but those which lore has made j Love, free as air, at sight of human ties. Spreads, his light wings, and in a moment fliei. Pope, SIR JACOB SAMPSON. *' . . . . moricmur inultat Sed moriamur, ak." Vixcil. In this gentleman v/e behold a man, not striving by peouniary acquisitions to insure himself that happiness^ vvhich he finds every reason to suspect his Avife has for ever destroyed, but we see him sinking under the affliction, caused by liis suspicions, and seeking refuge only in despair. Sir Jacob Sampson, as his name suffi- ciently evinces, was of that race which were once the chosen favourites of their Maker ; and if, as the liberal and wcil-in- formed mind assures its possessor, all re- ligions are equal i;i tiie eye of Omnipo- tence, if mercy^ justice, and iiiregrity are the leading rules of their conduct, then we niay safely say, that Sir Jacob was one who shone amongst the favour- ites of heaven. 70 lond6n characters. His Character. No man knew the value of money bet- ter than he did; but he knew its value onlj^ as it served him to prop the State which protected him : he had lavished it in support of government, and in aflbrd- ing the helping means of carrying on an arduous war : he has employed it also in magnificently feasting the sons of his law- ful Sovereign ; and, though a merchant and citizen himself, in regaling those nobles, which he knew, how empty soever may be the mere sound of title, are yet necessary to support each proper grada- tion of government : while his liberal hand, ever open to succour distress, has blessed and comforted the poor in his vi- cinity. But much as money may be deemed desirable, as for the pleasure it affords in dispensing it for good to others, in that delightful way Sir Jacob was ever assiduous to do ; yet he well knew that the precious metal gold, is unable to SIR JACOB SAMPSON. 71 His Friend- heal the lacerated hearty or calm the tor- tures of an anguished aiind. He had a friend, rather an humble friend, because he ^Yas in a great measure dependant upon him : he Avas possessed of a fine person, and great acquired en- dowments of learning. The study of the college mav impart wisdom to the head, but it cannot give the more amiable vir- tues of the heart : yet how often do the learned follow that occupation, whose chief and first lesson of instruction is virtue ; and which early teaches the lisp- ing infant to repeat he maxim, " Do a« you would be done by." The polished ease of fashion, and a liberal mind and education, allow of free- doms and intimacies unknown to the middling and lower classes of life. Sir Jacob's connexions ana acquaintance ranked amongst the highest circles, his Ami was l*^^mi cle la maiso i, and Sir LONDON CHARACTERS. Imprudent conduct of lii* Wife. Jacob well knew tbat a virtuous woman is ill no danger with a male companion, if that man is an honourable man ; for he often acts, in every correct sense^ not only as a protector, but^ at the same time, a cherished friend, and with who m, thought hCj could his wife be so safe, as with a good and sensible man, whose calling is that of virtue and principle ? But the conduct of Lady Sampson seemed to be divested of its accustomed prudence; sotliat an aOectionate husband began to be alarmed. Just to his own honour, yet unwilling to make any eclat m the world, he wa,s at first like Joseph, ^' minded to put her away privately :" yet iier still endearing behaviour, the recollection of the happi- ness she had once dilTused over his social and private hours, made him look into his own thoughts, and imagine that, per- haps, a spark of jealousy, almost insepa- SIR JACOB SAMPSON. 78 Admonitions received with Contempt. rable from true love, had crept into the enlarged composition of his heart ; and still he would have stronger proofs before he came to extremities; as for atrial in Westminster Hall, and suing for damages, that never once entered his mind. He became still more alarmed; and, as lie imagined, with jeason; and, it is said^ he ventured to expostulate with her, on the unguarded partiality she evinced for his humble friend. We should hope all that has been spoken on this event is not strictly true ; it is, however, confidently reported, that she not only refused to al- ter her conduct, but treated her unhappy liusband, and his kind admonitions, with the utmost contempt. The pangs that inward agitations produce, especially those of the heart, are indescribable, and their result not to be accounted for : A settled and dark melancholy came over the once-active mind of Sir Jacob ; the interests of his country were no longer YOL. I. E 74 LONDON CHARACTERS. His untimely Death. dear to him ; the habit of diffusing good to others, was continued^ from systema- tic order, but it gave not its accustomed glow to his benevolent mind ; it was be- come habitual only, and mechanical, as the hourly time-piece strikes, unconscious itself of the effect it produces. Worked up to a state of melancholy frenzy, this useful life was closed by his own^rash hand *. We have been per- suaded to believe, that a chronic disor- der, gradually ascending to the recesses of the brain, produced this fatal event : we sincerely trust it was so. We hope for the honour of the female sex^ >that his wife, however suspected by * These beautiful lines might be well applied to this unfortunate man. *' Ho core anch'io che morte sprezza e crede «^ Che ben sicarabi con TOnor la Vita." SIR JACOB SAMPSON. 75 Observations on Suicide the fancies of melancholj, engendered chiefly, perhaps^ by severe indisposition, was yet innocent : that he was in a state of lunacy, at the time he committed the fatal deed, is certain ; so is nearly every one who perpetrates the act of suicide, however seemingly predetermined: na- ture, in herlucid moments, shudders at the thought of being her own destroyer, and the preservation of life is the first law. It may be urged that, there are many instances, where a person has acted very methodically and cooly, before he has lifted a daring hand against his own life: we acknowledge it all ; but then the lu- nacy has already taken place; for the lunatic generally dwells on one subject ; and what instances of regular method will their not occur in madness! how will a man, in all the raging fury of a brain fever, lay plans for his escape ! how will he not watch the drowsy eyes of the Argusses who surround him, to see if e3 76 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. they sleep^ that be may effect this escape. In this instance there seems thought and apparent reason; but it is instinctive thought only; the brain is still on fire, and in such a case, if this febricnlose man should emancipate himself from his keep- ers, and be found self destroyed, would he be pronounced guilty of suicide, and condemned to be buried in the cross-^ roads ? surely no. The whole nation mourns the loss of such a man as Sir Jacob Sampson, and laments that he could not remain in this scene of sorrow his appointed time : his name and memory will ever be held in veneration, and his remaining kindred, who bear that name, are equally revered ; they have the same means, and the same amiable propensity to do good, as their unfortunate brother, and v^e trust they will long enjoy that useful life, which reflects honour on human nature. ANIMADVERSIONS, •* Quid fles, Asterie ?" Horat. iii- 7. ''This will never, never do," said the Marquis of Waitham ; '' Charlotte has a tear trembling in her eye, the dear Duchess pensively leans her head on her iiand^ and I cannot but lament the fate of my unfortunate and munificent friendj Sir Jacob Sampson. But a truce to these mournful subjects : You, Charlotte, who are so firmly devoted to the belief of a fu- ture state, you must knowthat a man of his character, according to your creed, can- not fail of being happy. Come, my dear Duchess, the rain is over : the grounds are delightful on the gravelled path- way after this little shower — let me lead you. *' I do not much like these morning readings,'* continued the Marquis as they walked ; '' nothing shall again tempt me to ii : to-morrow I will collect some- e3 ^■ 8 LONDON CHARACTERS. A lutlicrous Adventure. thing more gay for our evenings amuse- ment. And now I must tell you a few of my ideas^ as they start to my mind. '' In the character we have sketched of the Duke of Warton^ and to which, Charlotte, your sweet candour gave the tinijshing touches^ one curious anecdote of him was quite forgot ; it is but little known, and I am certain you are both ignorant of it ; it is, nevertheless, true. Sit down a little while, dear ladies, in the prospect-chair, and I will stand by and tell it you. '^ His Grace was one day on his usual perambulations, coursing on foot, after some little uncautious leveret or other, that might perchance fall in his way ; when, behold, a very well-dressed, fine- looking woman crossed his path, and this amorous septuaginary swain immediately began his attacks. The lady at first took no notice of him 5 she was young, hand-^ ANIMADVERSIONS. 7'9 Continued. some, had a something of fashion about hcfj and yet accompanied by a kind of inexperienced air. '' As he had never seen her any Ayhere before, he had recourse to the old expe- dient of making known his rank, and intreating and imploring the lady would accompany him home. The artful fair one appeared to be softened, refused this favour,^ but seemed willing, and, indeed^ rather desirous, the Duke should accom- pany her. He had rather have spared him- self that trouble. Again intreating, and the better to obtain his purpose, he slipped a note into her willing hand. Still he was obliged to follow, for the lady had highly charmed him, and she led the way, re- solving not to accompany him to his resi- dence. Of course a woman of any fash- ion seldom walks far when quite alone ; she soon stopped at the door of an house in a fashionable square, tiie door of which E 4 80 LONDON CHARACTJERS, The Catastrophe. M^as opened to her with great respect hy a servant in a dashing* livenv ^'Appearances, and the conduct of the lady, made the Duke now think he had fell in with some courtezan, kept in high style and splendour. They were shown into an elegant saloon back-pariour, where was seated a most respectable look- ing- gentleman, whom, to the amazement and confusion of his Grace, the lady in- troduced as her husband! "— '' And permit me, my dear/' said she, ^' to introdiiceto you his Grace the Duke of Wartan 1 and see/' added she, laying the note on the table, " the honour his Grace intended >ou and me, and how generous he would have shown himself!" *^' How this adventure ended, you may easily guess : I had heard enougii, from the first authority, of the truth of it ; and as the qui pro quo was ail 1 thought ANIMADVERSIONS. 81 Plan for future Readings. worth of it;, I did not staj to hear the rest : I only know the poor Duke was most egreg'iously duped and confused ; and was close housed^ for sometime after, under pretence of indisposition. " Now I will tell you whose adven- tures I mean to give you next." *' Oh, if you are going into adventures and his- torieS;, I shall he weary/' said the Du- chess ; '' most truly so.'* '' Customs then and characters/' said his Lordship j '' and they shall be those of the Honourable Mrs. Fernonville/' — " Oh ! heavens/' said Lady Charlotte, *' neither her customs or character can, I am sure, be edifying ; I think they will rather disgrace your pen " — '' Disgrace my pen!" replied the Marquis, ''Oh! she is the glass of easy manners, in which delightful mirror I would like each dear-bewitching female to dress herself 1 Come now, is not that thought almost as £ 5 83 LONDON CHARACTERS. Deserved Censure. pretty as your divine Shakespeare's^ my prudish sister ?'* '' You cannot tax me with that,'' sard Lady Charlotte ; '' no one, I helieve, is more free from prudery than myself; but I cannot help saying, that the inde- corous conduct of Mrs. Fernonville, however she may be supported by the fashionable world, is not only disgusting but extremely prejudicial : Be assured, my dear brother, it is such women who give men an unfavourable opinion of our sex; and, not only unfavourable, but it causes them to lose that respect which is due to us, when they see the demi^ more than demi nudity of a wife and a mother: and thus the contmual trials in West- minster Hall, for the seduction, as it is called, of wives, most alarmhigly in- creases. Why cannot women draw a medium between siarched frigidity, and the licentious manner of a courtezan? So different from that sweet ^nd chastened ANIMADVERSIONS. 8^ on Demi-nudity. freedom of manners, where liberality of mind and elegant ease make up the charm of lively conversation ? Instead of this we either now find a stupid silence, a romantic and affected purity, in the air and discourse, or else they run into that levity, which is sure to injure their cha- racters, however undeservedly, and sub- jects them to tlie licentious attacks of every unprincipled libertine ; while their dress exceeds in immodesty that of the unhappy female who walks the streets. I should think, such want of covering can leave nothing to the imagination, and must disgust your sex in the moment of reflection/' '' I declare Charlotte, you are a sweet girl/' said the Marquis, embracing her: '*' I believe you will one day convert me into a mxoral man, in spite of the pre- valence of dear fashion: But do not \ou see. Duchess, she has a little spice of vo- luptuous coquetry about her ? she wishes e6 84 LONDON CHARACTERS. "Women desire the Approbation of sensible Men. to enslave the hearts of men by ensnar- ing their imagination." '* Oh ! you pervert wliat I say^ bro- ther/* said Lady Charlotte j '' I wish not to enslave the hearts of men; but all wo- men^ let them say what they will, desira- nothing so much as the approbation and regard of the sensible and worthy part of mankind.'* — '' Honest Ch?Lrlotte !'* said the Marquis, '^ and now, I will be ho- nest in my turn. About a year ago, I began to think it requisite, as a man of fashion, to be an admirer of your sex ; and I found the truth of Ovid's remark^, that, '^ A man sometimes begins to love in jest> . " And after/ee/5 the torments he jbro/'e^^." '' For though I entered on my amorous^ career with apathy, and merely for fash- ion's sake, y :t women to me became sweet erring Angels 5 ''I love them W27/t, and. ANIMADVERSIONS. 85- The age of the Duchess. even for^ their faults ;'' and I loved them all : Never could I be weary^ I thought, of beholding the fine-turned iimb, deliiie-- ated through the almost transparent dra- pery that enwrapped it. The Venus-like bust, sometimes wholly uncovered, creat- ed rapture at first ; till at length it grew too faaiiliar to the eye ; and now I de- clare to you I can behold these frequent nudities, that are obtiuded so continu- ally on the sight, v,ith the same cold sen- sations of indifference as I would look on a piece of carved wood." The Duchess smiled, but her smile was accompanied with confusion: She felt a sense of shame stealing into her bosom. The recollection of theyears shehad num- bered, shot its troublesome and intrusive truth over her mind. She was fifty- five ! But she had been, and she was still, beautiful, though blind. She wished to change the subject. She 86 LONDON CHARACTERS. A hint to the Reader. arose to walk, and took the arm of her daughter. For ahnost the first time in her life^ Lady Charh)tte found it gently pressed against her mother's bosom : she felt happy and delighted. The Marquis retired to his study, to commence the character of Mrs. Fer- nonville; and though we do not present this character^ or any other, in the exact words of these noble Biographers, yet the sense is preserved. It is in our power to add some little anecdotes, perhaps un- known as un-noticed by them, and we wish also to intersperse those refiections^ which unheeding fashion too easily dis- penses with. THE HON. Mrs. FERXONVILLE. " How dosr. thou risk the soul-distracting view, '* As, from her naked limbs of glowing white, *' Harmonious swell'd by natura's finest hand, *' In folds loose-floating fell the fainter lawn, .... *' And fair exposed she stood ?" Thomts. Summer. With an high degree of momentary rap- ture and delight, on the glow of roseate bloom, on the bewitching dimpled smiles of an Hebe^ on the cupid-like, infiintme softness of an alabaster pair of handsome shoulders exposed to public view, to at- tract universal attention on a bosom, whose whiteness and firmness create the idea of Pjgmalion's animated marble, the ad- miring eye rests itself, and finds these charms combined, in the Honorable Mrs. Fernouville. The Honorable Edward Fernonville, the husband of this beautiful lady, was the younger son of a noble family ; a^d, as is too often the case with youngtr bro- thers, was under the necessity of seek ng in a foreign country to ameliorate that S8 LONDON CHARACTERS. Liberty of thinking and acting. fortune v/hicb was too small to satisfy his ardent spirit^ or in any dej^ree to make that kind of figure in England, his rank in life required. He was not disappointed in his pursuits and expectations : he returned to his na- tive land, after realizing an immense for- tune ; which his lady as well as himself, knew how to expeiid in every species of gratification, which fashion, extrava- gance, and dissipation, hold out to their: yotaries. The present ease of dress and manners adopted in England, highly pleased Mrs. Fernonville, and not to be outdone in any one instance of enlarged ideas and liber- ty of thinking and acting for herself, she gave into the most unbounded licence of manners, and seemed ambitious of ap- pearing in the eyes of the world, by her half- dressed figure, and ail her outward manners, a female libertine. THE HON. MRS. FERNONVILLE. 89 Visists at the Bed-side. We sincerely believe that it was only a giddy levity, yet it approached so near to absolute impropriety in her dress^ manners,, and languag-e, that her female friends of respectability have been of- ten put to the blush for her conduct^ and even gentlemen have sometim.es been compelled to acknowledge^ that Mrs. Fenionviile's behaviour was really toa bad r On a morniagj perhaps, a gentleman might happen to call too early, after she had been sitting up all the night before with a party of inebriated &o;2-r2r;fl??f.s ; for on those occasions Mrs. Fernonville never quitted the room, but weald sit and laugh with them, and cool their wine and ices for them with her own fair hands ; so incorrect, so truly thoughtless in her conduct, unheeding what the world might say, she has accompanied them tTom the scene of bacchanalian riot, when 90 LONDON CHARACTERS. Transparency of Dress. they were not even company for each other^ much less for ladies. And if after such scenes, or those of a similar nature, which had kept her up during the night, any gentleman might chance to call, to pay his respects to her ; without any re- gard to decorum, he was ushered into her chamber, and she received him lite- rally at her ruelle ! Was the weather very sultry, or did she wish to be equipped as much as pos- sible in the style of the Medicean Venus, she was perfectly indifferent when she entered almost without covering, into a large party^ about the multitude of gen- tlemen which might happen to be ibere collected ; but said aloud in their hearing (nay, she would not mind addressing her discourse to them ;) ''^ Well, I have no- thing on but my ^^own and cliemise !" While every little shallow art has been put in practice to draw their attention^ THE HON. MRS. FERNONVILLE. 91 Danger of Example and Manners. either by the caresses of children,, or other mancEUvres, to a most beautiful, though indelicatelj-exposed, bosom. The amiable and modest Lady Harriet Norton, though she cannot be easily warp- ed by tlie conduct, nor adopt in the small- est instance the manners, of Mrs. Fernon- ville, yet the consequences derived from the acquaintance of Lady Harriet to Mrs. Fernonville, has made that Lady ever desirous of being in all her parties ; and she has cultivated the acquaintance v,ith eagerness, preteiidiug a great affection for Lady Harriet ; and, when in her com- pany, she has generally endeavoured to induce Ladv Harriet to think like her- self; but that is impossible ; yet her ex- ample and manners are dangerous, it is not improbable, but what she may make Lady Harriet not quite so cheerfully con- tented as formerly ; for it is the invaria- ble aim of Mrs. Fernonville, and most ladies of her description^ to depreciate 92 LONDON CHARACTERS. Half a word to the Wise. geiiileness and prudence in wives ; but more particularly do they inveigb against submission^ and it is the constant maxim she preaches up to Lady Harriet, that^ for her part^ no husband shall ever dictate to her ! and then she will endeavour to persuade the meek and gentle Lady, to order her carriage, .whenever she thinks proper, and drive wherever she pleases. All such advices are incapable of turn- ing a mind of rectitude, like Lady Har- riet's ; but how many are there, and ex- cellent young women too, who arc not so shielded by strength of mind, and to whose happiness and tranquil content Mrs Fernonville m.ight do the most se- rious injury ! Lady Harriet Norton is wedded to one of the worthiest of men y but his health often sufi'ers from indis- position : Was she not the most affection- ate of wive«, who delights in the happi- ness she feels only as she imparts felicity THE HON, MRS. FERNONVILLE. 93 Concluion. to her husbaiid^ how easily might she be led to believe her situation^ not only very uncomfortable, but unhappy; and by as- serting her rights, and sufi'ering no one to dictate to her^ as Mrs. Fernonville ad- vises, she might render herself actually and indeed completely wretched. We hope, however, that she will be superior to this, and justify still the truth of these lines, once addressed to her by her ac^ complished husband : '^ — Son co2ur a comme les DIeux '* Le privilege d'etre heureux ^* Et le bonheur d'cn faire !'* SIR CHARLES GRAINGER, AND LADY INGLEBY, ** Cur me querclis exanimas tuis ?" Horat. ii. 17. Come, come, I am weary of so much sni' veiling !" said Sir Charles Grainger to the unfortunate Lady Ingleby ; who now see- ing the glaring effects of her imprudence and folly in their true lights wept over that happiness which for her was gone by^ never to be recalled; to that fame which was clouded for ever; and for that once- adored child, whose interests she had slighted and disregarded in the moment of unheeding passion. Such was the result. Sir Charles, of thy cloyed affection ! Such is the treat- ment the w Oman must consequently ex- pect who forgets the most sacred duty; and such is the gratitude too often shown by unthankful man. $6 LOKBON CHARACTERS. A Seducer is a faithless Friend. But ought such to have been the lan- guage of Sir Charles Grainger to a fe- male who had braved the frowns of the world, who had forfeited for his sake all claims to respect, all future title to 4^011] ugal quiet and happiness ? That her mind had a strong sense of what ought to have been her duty. Sir Charles must have seen, when she fled from her own noble mansion, where she lived ho- noured and beloved, to place herself un- der his protection. Her young mind, first seduced by him, and then having become a guilty wife, she scorned to carry deceit and falshood to the arms of her husband; and abandoning that honour and reputa- tion, which she might still have lived in amongst the unsuspecting circle of her acquaintarce, she openly confessed her guilt b}^ elopement, and ileJ to hide her shame in the bosom of her betrayer* Of a family, as respectable for their vir- tues as for their riches and nobility^ Sir SIR C. GRAINGER & LADY INGLEBY. 97 A Family formed to please the Fair. Charles had enjoyed the confidence of his Sovereign; had acquitted himself with honor in the station assigned him, and received that approbation from a grate- ful government which he merited. The family of the Graiiigers might be said, in every respect, to be formed to please the fair; handsome in person, insinua- ting in manners, brave, and elegantly ac^^ complished 1 V/hcn such are the temptations thrown in the way of an inexperienced young female; who perhaps finds not her loveli- ness, her merit, her affectionate heart, and correct conduct, treated with that warmth of gratitude they deserve, what are we to expect ? A failliless husband too ofirn makes a faithless wife, and what but the natural iickleness and depravity of nature, seemingly inherent in the com- position of man, can render him so ? Does the term ivife carry with it an antidote to love and cocstancv* — The conduct of VOL. \, F 98 LONDON CHARACTERS, No palliation for Guilt. many of our fashionables would induce us to imagine it did. We do not directly say^ that Lord Ingleby was one of these inconstants ; but when rumour is busy in spreading such reports^ when private let- tersj which were brought forth as proofs to condemn a deluded female^, glance in a most marked and pointed manner^ on the duty of constancy and fidelity in an husband^ and recommend its charms^ by adverting to the conduct, and enforcing the example of a failliful domestic quad- ruped, then we may naturally suppose, that rumour for once had truth on her side. The outrageously virtuous will per- haps call these remarks, a palliation for guilt ; no, they are not so intended ; the writer of these pages is as much shocked to see the rapid progress of vice, and the frequent repetition of a broach ot conju- gal duty as anyone can possibly be. We do not by any means excuse the adultress; SIR C. GRAINGER & LADY INGLEBY. 99 A great example of Mercy. but we compassionate her when not wholly abandoned ; and shall we, who are un- exposed, perhaps, to temptation, dare to withhold our pity, when He, whose at- tributes are mercy and compassion, not only pitied her who was taken in adul- tery, but forgave ! The ''naked human heart," was open to his view, and he knew when to withdraw as when to dis- play his mercy. Man, who cannot discri- minate, is most like Him when he shews compassion ! After a man has^ for his own gratifica- tion, deprived a woman, not only of her virtue, but of the countenance of the world, he is bound hy every principle worthy the heart and mind of a gentle- man, not only to protect, support, and screen her person from future insult, but to treat her with unremitting tenderness and friendship ; he is to endeavour to hush and soothe her sorrow, however self-acquired, however well-merited : he F 2 100 LONDON CHARACTERS. Money a compensation fur Slianie. is to ^'bind up her broken heart/' and speak peace to her iifflicted conscience ; to lead her back again^ if possible^ to virtue^ but not with ^' Hard unkindness' alter'J eye *^ Mock the tear he caused lo flow !" An eminent Pleader at the Bar^ on a late similar occasion, sajs, '' The rabble will hoot at a man as he passes in the si- tuation of a CornutOy if his rank stands particularly high 1" Yet noblemen ap- pear very desirous of convincing tlie world, t3iat they wear the fashionable ornaments, with which the modern wives of the last and present century choose io adorn their brows. They are not afraid of being ''^ hooted as they pass/' so as they do but ^ei a few thousand pounds damages ; and laughing in their sleeves, they say with La Fontaine : *^Pour toules ces raisons je persiste en ma These : " Cocuage est un bien." SIR C. GRAINGER & LADY INGLEBY. lOI A Parallel. The warm-hearted and ardent-headed Hibernian^ when he is convinced of the infidelity of his fair partier^ makes no scruple of punishing her and her g'uilty lover, and shooting them both through the body. Here a husband will get rid of a wife he is already tired of, whorn he has perverted first by his own ill-ex- ample ; but he will first take care to get something hy her, and fill his purse. Na- ture is at first shocked at the conduct af the former, not reflecting that in this instance, he shews himself truly her off- spring. He loved his wife, perhaps he loves her still ; then what is life without her ? The thoughts of an ignominious^ death, w hich may follow his rash action, does not enter his mind. His happiness here, by the infidelity of his wife, is blighted forever. And if her depraved conduct creates hatred in that breast, where love has once reigned, does he think of gaining a paltry pittance by pro- f3 102 LONDON CHARACTER?. A French Husband. claiming liis infamy to the world ? No, bravely impetuous^ be punishes her guiH himself; nor lets the seducer escape^ if he can get him in his power. As to the harmony subsisting between Lord and Lady Ingleby^ it is the com- mon-place detail of a crim. con. trial. People in high life, and knowing no other behaviour than politeness of manners^will never break out in recriminations or aspe- rity before the world, particularly in the presence of those who are come on a vi- sit, to reside under their roof, for a short period of time, unless they are notoriously unhappy in their union indeed. It is urged, that Lady Tngleby was an affectionate wife ; Lord Ingleby an at- tentive hu^hdnA ; so is a polished French- man, who marries a woman he dislikes, and intrigues with every one who falls ill his way : yet what obsequions lover SIR C. GRAINGER & LADY INGLEBY. 103 My Lord not perfectly light. could shew himself more outwardly aux petits soins to the most adored mistress, than he does to Madame son Espouse ? When the unhappy Lady Inglebj was accused by her lord of her crime^ her own heart and conscience told hcr^ she was guilty. She denied^ she confessed nothing ! but fled in a distracted moment from the dwelling of her injured hus- band. Her letters^ which were so in- correctly exposed in order to criminate Sir Charles Grainger, seem, if read with precision, to prove that something was not altogether right on the part of Lord Ingleby, whom she appears to endeavour to draw towards her by the strength of her affection. She warns him against fraud and deceit, and the irritation they constantly produce in the mind of the person deceived. It is hard if a lady is to be denied the society of a male friend, of agreeable F 4 104 LONDON CHARACTERS. A male friend to a Wife. I and elegant nianiierSj either at her own dwelling', or to accompany her in waik- iiig ; and though there is no doubt left of Lady Iiigleby's guilt, we are sorry to be compelled to say so ; yet why are such tlimzy proofs adduced, as there is, in general, on these occasions ? A wife is ah", ays criminated on the testimony of servants ! If a lady separates from a female do- mestic when she meets a gentleman of rank in her w alks^ that is brought for- ward as a convincing proof of her infi- delity to her husband ; as if a nursery- maid ought to walk familiarly with a ti- tled lady and an ambassador ! This would be adopting the system of equality indeed! ** Est a^odus in rebus, sunt cer'i denique iines." Better, much better will it be for Lady Ingleby to quit her seducer*, and * There is something glaringly shocking and truly intolerable in the conduct of an adultress, who, after sm C, GRAINGER & LADY INGLEBY. lOS •«^- - ■ . ' ■ ■ Reflections. employ her days in retirement^ and the deploring of her fault. To her husband's roof she can never return ; his doors will fof ever be closed against her re-entrance; let her endeavour by her future conduct to deserve that pity the compassionate part of the w^orjd are in a degree yet dis- posed to afford her ; and which she must for ever lose by continuing to live in a pro- fessed state of guilty infidelity : resolutely witnessing hersliame publicly proclaimed in a respect- nble and nearly infallible court of justice, flies to the perfidious arms of the man who has deprived her of Hue happiness and 'real pleasure, and scandalously lives wiih him, walks and rides with him, pays visits and receives company with him, as if the sacred ties of matrimony had joined their hands. Meanwhile the injured husband sets melancholy at home, deplor- ing his naisfortune, and the loss of a treasure much above the dama£;es allowed him, " at ille '* Flet noctem, lectoque jacens in ccelibe, planctum- " Integrate et moestis late loca questibus implet." F 5 106 LONDON CHARACTERS. Reflections continued. let her break from him^ unless he proves that he has preserved his esteem for her;, and^ by his attentions may, some day, deserve her hand in a lavs^ful way. Let us indulge the pleasing hope that a Divorce-Bill may pass, and that the sa- cred veil of matrimony will cover and conceal, for ever, from public view^ former irregularities. FASHIONABLE LIFE. « Nee tibi quid liceat, sed quid fecisse decebit " Occurrat, mentemque domet respectus honesti." Claudian. The mansion that the Duchess of Pyr- mont was become a temporary hihabitant of, was a bequest left solely to her, by the Duke of Benningsen her father, en- tirely independent of her husband. In the will it was expressly ordered, that she should reside at it three months every summer. This the Duke of Benningsen had planned in the ardour of paternal affec- tion ; he saw the unbounded love of his daughter for a life of dissipation, and mindful of her health, he knew he should thus ensure her a pure salubrious air, far remote from any of those fashionable country haunts, where the nobility in general carry down their vices, pleasures, and dissipated haaits, destroying their health as much as in the smoky air of London. f 6 108 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Duke of Pj^rmont, Anxiousl}^ concerned also to see a mind so devoted to fashion, lie reflected that after her marriage with the Duke of Pyr- mont^ all parental admonition would he of no avail : he therefore hoped that hy an annual residence in this beautiful ru- ral spot, she might have leisure to look into her own conduct, and be induced, from the examination, to regulate it bet- ter. That period, however, was not jet arrived, and the Duchess was like a pri- soner of state, thinking herself the most unhappy woman in the world, to have this restriction put upon her time and choice. As the Duke her husband was not in- cluded in this order, he never accon^pa- nied her ; he was five years younger than she was, and their interests, pursuits, and inclinations, had long been separate. He once knew his wife was the handsomest woman at Court ; as such he was vain of her. Her fortune was immense, so FASHIONABLELIFE. 109 The Fashionables. was his own ; but beautiful and follow- ed as she was before her luairiage, he would not have wedded her without her large portion. As has been said before^, thej were not unlike in disposition^ but they hated more than they regarded each other^ and mutually divided their societj^ The children of the Duchess accom- panied her partly from compulsion^ partly from choice^, as the Duke of Benning- sen had desired tliat they should at least pass some time there with their motheji^ or forfeit the estate at her death. One morning, just after the noble trio in the country had taken their breakfast, two visitors were announced ; one was the Duke of Westbury, the other was Lord Orton. If vulgarity of manners, hard-drink- ing, boisterous mirth, and a carb uncled face, might interest at first appearance. no LONDON CHARACTERS. A Description of smart Costume. recommend the owner, and evince the man of fashion, then the Duke might rank high for his emblematical merit. His boots appeared as if they had not been cleaned for months ; a large coach- man's coat, a whip in his hand, and a colouredsilk-handkerchief round his neck, ornamented his person : But he soon found out, that it was " confounded hot !" so throwing his whip into the hall, he called to his '' Scoundrel,*' to come and take his coat ; he then discovered on the bosom of his linen, which was not of the whitest hue, the two famous gladiators of the eighteenth century, of exquisite work- manship, in correct and diminutive gold figures, and which formed a shirt-broach. '' Well, my Lady Duchess," said he, '' I promised, you know, to come and see you, and here I am, with my whey- drinking friend, Orton ! Do, Waltham^ let your butler give me something to FASHIONABLE LIFE. Ill- -■"""■''-■■• ■ ■ — ' Fashionable Breakfast. drink; I am confounded thirsty." ^' Your Grace shall have breakfast immediately/ said Lady Charlotte, '' Oh ! no, no, I thank you/' said his elegant Grace, '^ I breakfasted long ago, on eggs, ham and ale; and I want something better to drink than tea or chocolate/' Different white wines were then pre- sented on his calling for wine. " Put some Madeira on the side-board," said the Duke, '' Fll help myself/' His Grace then poured out a pint goblet of Madeira, nearly full, and completing the measure of it with brandy, as a qualifier, according to his own expression, he drank it off at one draught, to the astonishment of Lady Charlotte. " Do you ever mean to grow any taller, Waltham,'' said the Duke. Then rapidly changing the sub- ject, he said, '' Come, my good fellow^ shew me your horses; I am now inclined to make the exchange with you we have talked about sometime j — My Steam-En- 112 LONDON CHARACTERS. Real Jockeyism. gine against jour High Flyer ; what say you^ hey^ my fine one ?'* The Marquis knew the Duke did not scruple taking an undue advantage in horse- dealings which he would call the fair game of jockey ism^ and that sonic- thing of that kind now was the purport of his visit;, saidj '' I have altered my mind, for since you last took the knowing ones in with Steam-Eugine, at Newmarket, he seemsto he no favourite on the turf: High* flyer beat Haverton's Knowing- Bcss^ at the conclusion of the sport, and I cannot think of parting with him." " Oh ! you're oft, are you ?" said the Duke/' but come along, we may as well go and look at the cattle : How many hits of real blood have you now in your stud ?" — '' My dear Lord Duke/' said the Marquis, '' my stud is not here ; — I have only High-flyetf' and Lady-Teazle here " '' Do, my dear Lady Fairface,'' said the Duke, turning '., ^-^ <^'-n[vo anion, '' let me persuade you cosmetic 1 have done^ FASHIONABLE LIFE. IjJ Jack Spindle, pourtraycd- and then, my lily- faced Orton, you will look as rosy.'* Lady Cliarlotte could not forbear a smile at the associations of cosmetics and a rose on the flaming countenance before her ; but the feeble voice of Lord Orton, saying he should prefer a glass of lemon- ade, made her turn her eves toviurds him. He was of a delicate^ fair complexion^ and very diminutive in stature, with a pair of legs of a remarkable thinness ; for which the quizzers of the day had given him the name of Jack Spindle, which was generally the appellation he W'as know^n by in his absence; present^ his society was courted, because he was immensely rich, but very shallow and su- perficial iii his understanding^; and though the Duke of Westbury was the inheritor of great wealth, and ruled like a little king over two of the richest counties iu England, yet the sports of the turf, fre- 114 LONDON ClURACTESrS. The Portrait continued. quent, and not always successful visits at Boodle'Sj a settled stipend paid in St, James's place to a certain Lady Abbess, another to an extravagant actress, who had once been the Duke's reigning fa- vourite, together with the expences at- tendant on constant inebriation, and other desti'\ictive pleasures^ made him often obliged to his delicate little friend for pecuniary assistance. To finish the portrait of Lord Orton, who now took up the attention of Lady Charlotte Stanmore, he was the most disproportionate of figures, for with his fairy body and small face, his hands and feet were large, and his mouth wide: his little face, as he turned towards Lady Charlotte, was almost hid in the envelope- ment of his cravat and a large pair of sandy-coloured whiskers. ^' Perhaps your Lordsbip.v, ill take tea or coffee/' said Lady Charlotte. '' I have FASHIONABLE LIFE. llj How to spoil and weaken a Child. already taken tea, Lady Charlotte/' he replied^ -' and though I am fonder of it than any other beverage^ I dread its ef- fect on my nerves." '' Chocolate^ sir ?'^ said the Duchess. '' Oh;, my dear Lady Duchess, it is too heavy for my stomach/' '' Take a good ghiss of brandy !"' vocife- rated the Duke. The little Lord smiled^ and looked on his friend with admiration. Lord Orton was an only child, and having lost his father in his infancy, w as left to the care of a foolishly fond mo- ther, who always fancied the dear boy was sick ; she therefore rendered a natu- rally strong child unhealthy ; impeded his growth by confinement, and destroyed his nervous system by the continual fear she imparted to his mind, on every slight indisposition incident to children, that he was certainly dying. After the dowager's death, he became acquainted with the Duke of Westbury ; 116 LONDON CHARACTERS. Vain efforts at Imitation. lie admired him above all men he had ever seen ; he longed to launch out and be like him^ but habit had become second nature^ and nature herself had formed him a very different being from his dear Duke. He was ambitious^ however^ to imitate him, but could not; and whenever he endeavoured to pluck up a spirit to act in any degree like him, he always felt his old puny habits, of trembling nerves and delicacy of appetite, return worse^ and more confirmed than ever. At one time of his life he was in danger of be- coming a martyr to his silly imitation ; for he drank brandy in a morning with the Duke, and reduced his nerves to a more alarming state of weakness, and his legs to a smaller dimension, than before. The Duke was afraid he should lose his dear^ useful friend, and consulted some cojiiidential doctors to put him under a regimen, which, by strictly observing. Lord Ortoa is yet permitted^ a littlie^ r ASH ION ABLE LIFE. 117 Elegant Conversation without meaning, longer^ to do liOROur to the name of his wealthy ancestors. '' Well, my dear Duchess," said the Duke of Weslbury, throwing himself on the vacant seat beside iier, '' you appear as lovely as ever ; the country agrees with you ; you and Lady Charlotte are as blooming as two roses !'* '*^That flower seems a favourite simile with your Grace," said Lady Charlot(e^ as she viewed liis poppy-coloured face. — '^ Tell me," said the Duchess, '' as you have just left town, is any body there ? I had rather stay in Portman-square all the summer long, and not one living- creature of fashion but myself in Lon- don, than be imprisoned here/' '' O, yes, really," said the Duke, '' I agree with you. Duchess ; constraint is a horrid bore ; and I can assure you. 118 LONDON CHARACTERS. Cousin Tom. there really are some decent people yet left ia London.*' *^*' Pray/' said tlie Duchess^ '"^ though it is a strange enquiry to ask after an husband J but have you seen any thing of the Duke of Pyrmont ?" '' Only parted from him the night before last/' replied the Duke of Westbury ; '' we were all together supping at his Cousin Tom's, and we were as happy as wine, love^ and mirths could make us." ^' His cousin Tom's !" echoed the Du- chess ; '' why, Pyrmont has neither uncle nor aunt ; what cousin can behave ?" ^' Oh ! I will tell you, my dear lady Duchess/' said the Duke, first laughing immoderately. '' Cousin Tom is the name a good-natured convenient fellow goes by, who keeps a house of accommo- dation in one of the Squares of the ni«- FASHIONABLE LIFE. 119 His Friends and Customers. tropolis. I know you are not of a jea- lous disposition, or I would not tell you that your dear Duke is one of the firmest supporters of Cousin Tom's house (tiiat is the slcmg name he goes by. ) Many of the married nobility keep up the cre- dit^ and support the expences^ of the house, myselffor one/' Lady Charlotte unaffectedly blushed : the Duchess had too much high fashion about her, and freedom of modern man- ners, to be easily abashed. She said, ^' Really the sobriquets and equivoques of men of fashion, which you are pleased to denominate slang, are so copious, that they require an explanatory dictionary ; and a woman, who is in the smallest de- gree precise, must never open her lips to ask the sense of what she does not imme- diately comprehcud.'' This the Duchess uttered with the most unassumed indifference ; she could 120 LONDON CHARACTERS. Deplorible indifference in the Duchess, listen to a recital of the Duke of Pyr- niont's intrigues, though he was her hus- band, with the utmost sang froid ; and the knowledge and conviction of his re- peated infidelities^ had never given her one momentary pang *. '' I think," said the Marquis of Wal- tham, "^ the pure and immaculate Sir Edward Morcton, never went to Cousin Tom's. "—'^ No/* said his Grace, '' I would bet mj ducal coronet against young C irlin, ray wife's pug dog, that he would not go there for all the uni- verse could offer," ♦ It is that degradation of manners, which cannot be too much lamented, and certainly will, in the end, overthrow society, and reduce us to universal barba- rism j it is ihat deplorable indifference oi husbands and wives for their mutual faults, which is, as here depicted, some of the greatest evils of our times. It has called upon a neighbouring nation the ven- geance of Heaven 3 let us be aware of its effects. FASHIONABLE LIFE, 121 Conclusion. The allusions of his Grace, unobserv- ing of the noble females who were pre- sentj becoming rather indecorous, thej quitted the apartment to dress for dinner. The Duchess, though she still hated soli- tude, was not sorry when her boisterous guest, accompanied by his delicate com* panion, ^' who shivered at a breeze/' con= eluded the visit. She listened with much more pleasure to sketches of fashionable characters, than to the very common-place topics of tonish dissipation, especially when given in the coarse language of so disgusting an orator as tiie Duke of Westburyo VOL. I SIR EDWARD MORETON. Nobilitas sola est atqae unica virtus. " Ju venal. JnLERE^ no City addresses, no congratula- tions on a beloved Sovereign's recovery from severe indisposition^ invested the noble ancestors of this worthy young Ba- ronet^ Sir Edward Moreton^ with the title : his family, almost as ancient as Baronetage^ were distinguished in several reigns for their valour and their public virtues. To go back as far only as the present Sir Edward Moreton's grandfather^ we shall find him enjoying his immense wealth during a long peace ; and hav- ing sufiicient to bequeath his son to live independent of all parties in the cabinet or the field, he left him the sole male heir to his riches, without bringing him up to any of those public professions so g2 124^ LONDON CHARACTERS. A Character many of the nobility embrace from choice. The late Sir Edward Moreton did not live to a very advanced age^ and left this present Sir Edward^ his eldest son, in possession of the title and chief estates. This extraordinary and amiable young man, appearing eccentric only to those votaries of fashion who plunge into every species of dissipation and extravagance, is now about twenty-three years" of age ; a love of study has imparted a serious* ness and precision to his thoughts, and has caused him to investigate the characters of mankind with scrupulous care. As his chief society is confined to high and fashionable life, he is sensibly shocked at the conduct of most of the young men ot the present age : but he beholds their follies without any degree of puritanism, and he only mak.^s use of his observad.)ns to brmg home to his SIR EDWARD MORETON. 125 A Man of Economy and Prudence, own mind an useful guide, to steer and regulate his own conduct by. In all the ardour of uncontaminated youths with an admiration of all that he finds lovely in the female sex, he yet re- tains that purity of conduct, so little known, so little thought of, even by the fashionable world : as the adorning- of his person takes up but a very little portionof his time or attention, his intel- lectual ornaments are of the highest va- lue; he is generous where he knows generosity will be acceptable, where it will be well bestowed and gratefully acknowledged by the silent thanks of the heart ; but he lavishes not his mo- ney away in a ridiculous and prodigal manner, nor ever suffers himself to be duped and imposed upon because he is a wealthy man. Thus he looks into and inspects his own affairs, and, trusting not wholly to his steward, knows the extent g3 126 LONDON CHARACTERS. Old-fashioned Ideas. '■ - ■'' . . , . „ - . , , rzrrs- of his fortune^ and calculates how far and how well he may expend it. He is greatly shocked, and that with- out any fastidious affectation of virtue, at one reprehensible part of the conduct of the rich and great ; which disgust, in so young a man, often draws a smile from the high-born and insolent : he feels^ it in his own breast ; and he expresses it aloud to his most valued friends^ that he cannot imagine why any man, because he is born a nobleman, can think himself authorised to treat his inferiors with con- tempt and arrogance ; or, because ano- ther has well-fiiled coffers, that he should believe they give him a licence to lavish their contents in guilty and destructive pleasures, and thereby set so dangerous- an example to those beneath them. Sir Edward Moreton is old-fashioned and eccentric enough frequently to utter 0, his virtuous sentiments; to which i ^ acids and sincerely feels, that truly SIR EDWARD MORETON. 127 Conclusion. noble principle^ which teaches him that the higher the station to which a person is elevated^ so much the more pure and circumspect should be his conduct. Yetj though so amply possessed of all the milder virtues^, Sir Edward Moreton knew what was due to his high conse- quence and dignity. He knew how to maintain that consequence in a cool de- termined manner^ such as ever characte- rises the true gentleman ; nor would he suffer the nearest or most dear of his re- latives to interfere with his concerns^ or in any degree to warp or counteract those principles of his exalted mind, which he was conscious were those of rectitude, and which were founded on the sure basis of virtue*. '' Kara avis in terris alboque simlltima corvo." * This character, being truly after nature. Sir Bar- naby had an uncommon deal of satisfaction in paint- ing it, and he performed the whole con amore I G 4 THE HON". MRS. EGERTON; OR, THE VICTIM OF CALUMNY: " Saspe oculi et aures Vulgi testes sunt mali." P. Syrus. 1 HIS is the Lady, whom the Marquis of Waltham had taken so much notice of, as the friend of Lady Laura Pemberton. The vicissitudes of life, some few rears absence from her native country^ and the effect of slanderous tongues^ had made such a change in her countenance, (which yet could not be entirely divested of its powers of pleasing,) that she was mc^ connoisable to the fashionables of Lon- don, when she returned to England to take up her residence there. At an early age she fled from the boarding-schoolj and married an officer^, G 5 130 LONDON CHARACTERS. Elopes from the Boarding-school. several years her Senior, Though not possessed of one regular feature^ except a beautiful set of teeth, inclosed in a small, well-shaped mouth, yet, an ani- mated complexion, a most exuberant flow of spirits, then unchecked by care, and unassailedbycalumnyjgave brilliancy to a pair of eyes, which were always' expressive of a great share of meanings and imparted to her whole countenance that irresistible je ne sfciis qiioi, which is sure to charm, as the Marquis of Wal- tham justly said, ^' We know not how^ or why.'* The longer a person is known, so much more does this indescribable attraction please ; but, unfortunately, it pleases the men most ; and creates envy, and often dislike, in the bosoms of the female sex. Emancipated from the rigorous rule* of the boarding-school, thrown into the company of crowds of Officers^ who every THE H ON. MRS. EGERTON. 131 Becomes giddy. time they conversed with her, admired her the more, the change of scene^ so difterent from that she had been accus- tomed tOj almost turned her little head, and she became giddy, thoughtless, and perhaps in some degree imprudent, but nothing more. She loved her husband with the warmest and most sincere affec- tion, but yet she loved to see scarlet beaux fluttering about her. Pleased with the admiration she excited, and which was generally more directed to her talents than her person, her hus- band often encouraged those men, who however they may appear charmed with the hospitality of the husband, and the wit and vivacity of the wife, have yet no other views, than to drink the good man's wine, meet parties, play cards, pass jovial evenings, and cry quit in the hour of distress. The Honourable Major Brereton,. the g6 133 LONDON CHARACTERS. I ■ ■ . LI.' Creates envy, and causes eclat. * '' . ..-- . ■■■ - J' husband of Mrs. Egerton^ was a fashion- able man in his customs and manners, but possessed of all the warm and ardent affections of the heart : while another gentleman was at hand^ he never could bear the idea of being his wife's escort ; and, though in private they were like the most fond and constant lovers, jet they took no more notice of each other in public, than if they were absolute stran^ gers : thus Mrs. Brereton had always a train of danglers to attend her in her walks, either in the morning or the even- ing : and at balls, had been engaged to partners twelve deep, had disappointed half of them, caused discontent among the rest, and some eclat^hy such thought- less conduct ; and thus set the tongues of the malevolent, (particularly of the old and ugly) at work, on her unguarded and apparent partiality. By degrees, she observed a visible change in the manners of her female THE HON. MRS. EGERTON. 133 She quizzes and writes Epigrams. acquaintance towards lier; atlength they almost entirely fell off; and her hus- band^ by the few prudent men who are sometimes found in the arniyj was treated with distance and coldness^ Mrs. Brereton was possessed of bril- liant talents; she quizzed, with mortify, ing severity^ some eccentric characters of high military rank^ in little pasqui- nades and witty epigrams: they were handed round amongst her friends ; her enemies^ it should rather have been said : for they exposed them^ and exposed them to those very persons^ for whom they were so palpably intended : this, therefore, was imagined by the Major and his wife to be the cause of the pre- sent coolness : she desisted from her quizzings; thought the breeze would soon blow over, and laughed, walked and danced, as usual, with the gay, 7nale throng who now, alone^ frequented the Major's quarters. 134 LONDCTN CHARACTERS. Acquires new Acquaintances. At length the curtain was undrawn. A lady of high rank came from a distant quarter: she was the female friend and patroness of a learned physician^, who truly admired Mrs. Brereton's unaffected, intellectual merit ; was amused and de- lighted by the happy flow of spirits she united to a depth of erudition, and was her sincere friend and adviser : He was determined to rai^e the consequence of Mrs. Brereton by introducing his noble friend to her ; for when she should be seen in her elegant and correct society^ he knew how much it would raise her to dignity and respect; and how sure it would establish it ; that her female ac- quaintance would then return to, and seek her company with eagerness. His true knowledge of the world, made him well know, that, though the society of such women as compose the greatest part of the fashionable world, is often «uch as it would be much more agree* THE HON. MRS. EGERTON, 135 The Army a dangerous place for a young Female. able to dispense with^ yet, that, a young female, possessed of that liveliness for which Mrs. Brereton was rennarkable, h in a dangerous situation, in the army, in point of character, if divested of com- panions of her own sex, especially if her acquaintance with the opposite sex is numerous. The wish of his heart was about to be realised. The lady arrived in the gar- rison; they all met at a ball: she en- treated the Doctor with an energy which rather surprised him, not then to introduce her to Mrs. Brereton ; carefully shunned her^ and sat as far from her as possible at supper. The Marchioness of Adingbroke, though arrived at a certain agCj was yet a fine woman, and her rank, more than that, made her the object of general attention : the gentlemen all crowded round the iU lustrious guest, and though they did not IS6 LONDON CHARACTERS. Is warned by the Doctor, desert Mrs. Brereton^ thej addressed her ill a style of easy and almost impertinent familiarity she had never experienced before^ and she went home dull and dispirited. The next morning Major Brereton went to London on business for a few days. While Mrs. Brereton was taking her breakfast, her friend the Doctor was announced. His mind seemed labour- ing with something he knew not how to give utterance to. Mrs. Brereton was his friend and confidentey his own story was deeply interesting, and ste had vept at its recital with him ; for this ^' laughter-loving dame" could w^ep, and tenderly feel for others. Anxiety and scrutiny were painted in his feeling eyes ; his cheek was palid, and his oft-begun sentences trembled on his tongue,fearful of inflicting the wound^ lie knew they must give. THE HON. MRS. EGERTON. 137 and attacked by Calumny. Mrs. Breretan rallied him on liis want of spirits ; but at last she appeared to catch the infectious anxiety, and eagerly asked him^ what was the matter } He then, without farther reserve, un- folded a scene of calumny to her asto- nished hearing, which deprived her for ever of the countenance of the Mar- chioness of Adingbroke, which drew the character of TVIrs. Breretoa in the most odious light, as the worst of wives, and the most licentious of women ; and had solemnly asserted, as facts of her aban- doned conduct, what had never been in existence. But some bore this testimony of their truth, that she could not deny hav- ing walked at such an hour, and in such a place, with one officer; or at a very late hour in the evening, during a sultry sum- mer, with another That the same vain unprincipled men have sneered when they were accused, and with a knowing laugh have declared, thev were too much 138 LONDON CHARACTERS. Falls in a Swoon. men of honour to betray any lady's secrets^ or the confidence she might be pleased to honour them with. The Doctor almost repented of ac- quainting Mrs, Brereton with these cruel attacks upon her fame ; the effect the knowledge of them had upon her mind caused her a violent hysteric fit. — The Doctor carried her to her chamber^ sooth- ed her^ stayed with her till she recovered, and pressed her to his bosom with fa- therly tenderness, as he parted from her, unseeing as unheeding the maid servant, who just entered the apartment. Her hysteric shrieks of laughter, her faintings, the Doctor's friendly adieu, reached the ears of the neighbours. Her husband wal absent — theDoctor was an elegant, good- looking man, in the prime of life . . . The calumny levelled against her increased, and Lady Adingbroke told her medical friend, she was very sorry that he had added to the number of those who had THE HON. MRS. EGERTON. ]3!> She sees her Error. fallen victims to the fascinations of Major Brereton's immodest wife. How little did she deserve such a cruel epithet ! Her mind^ as well as her per- son^ was pure^ and uncontaminated. The unmerited slander which attacked her, had a mournful effect on her health and spirits. She investigated her own conduct, but so free did she find it from intentional blame, that it never once occurred to hee as the cause. Major Brereton, on his arrival from London, found her changed : Oh ! how changed \ She had no idea of the mischief which mightensue, but thought- lessly told him all ! His heart, wrapped up in her, and knowing her innocence, he comforted and urged her, improperly, to set her enemies at defiance, by launching again intoher former gaieties. — '' Never,'" replied she ; '' if the world again shall 140 LONDON CHARACTERS. Her Husband's generous behaviour. choose to countenance me^ I v/ill not put it in their power to ^ay^ that I am slan- dered on account of my own giddy be- haviour.'* — '' Why/' said the Major, '' I have heard as much of you in Lon- don as would fill a small volume : But my busysecret-teiling friends are all with- held^ by pretended honour, from giving up their authors."—'' Say, does my dear Laura Pemberton/' asked Mrs, Brereton, '^ does she too follow the multitude ?" — » '' Oh ! never/' said the Major ; '' do not so wrong her : she, like me, knows the innate purity of your heart, and that, even your ardent imagination cannot lead you to guilt/' However, after a little time, Mrs. Bre- reton, by the prudence of her conduct, by the extended knowledge of her high connexions, found her society again flat- tered and courted, but it was but for a short period. When once a female cha- THEHON. MRS. EGERTON. 141 She comes to London. racter is assailed^ it is made a pretext, on every occasion, for capricious or pur- posed neglect. That wbich generally causes the world to fall off, reduction of fortune, now be- reft her of hig'h and fashionable friends : the extravagant dissipation in which the Major and his wife had lived, brought hinumerable and heavy debts upon them, and an execution was lodged in their house. A foreign nobleman, of high rank undertook the affairs of his friend^ who was again re-established, in some degree of comfort : But now the envenomed tongue of slander pointed its keenest darts against Mrs. Brereton, and even against the honourable principles of the Major, as conniving at the transgressions of his wife. He retired, in disgust, from the army ; wh.cS, though a liberal school in itself, he often found retained both 142 LONDON CHARACTERS. Her ci-devant Governess. tutors and apt pupils in the art of scan- dal. He had lost his friend^ the Doctor^ and the secret of who were the principal traducers of his wife^ that fatal secret died with him. The calumniated couple repaired to London ; but^ as Mrs. Brereton could not give splendid entertainments^ nor have very large parties, she was always spoken of with invective when absent, and treated with cold neglect when present. She had a kind of equivocal friend ; hut she was one who attacked her insi- duously. This woman was highly re- spected in the fashionable circles, though she had been only the Governess of that school, from whence Mrs. Brereton escaped just before her marriage. She always shook her head, in pity, at the detail of Mrs. Brereton's imprudences ; but destroyed that pity, by saying, '' Mrs. Brereton was really old enough to know ThE HON. MRS, EGERTON. 143 Retires to the Sea shores. better, and that great talents^ like her's, when abused^ rendered the possessor doubly criminal.'* But she never was known to utter one sentence to extenuate or excuse her. When Mrs. Brereton first entered the army, she regularly corresponded with her. But Mrs. Brereton could not now make her accustomed figure in the world ; and, rich herself, and loving riches and shewj the ci-devant Governess would rather countenance one, who had lived as a professed mistress to a Baronet during his wife's life-time ; and now that she was become the Baronet's wife, and was possessed of a title and a carriage, she was her dearest bosom friend. Mrs, Brereton found Lady Laura Pemberton invariably her friend ; but the misfortunes which at that time assailed that angelic woman, afforded her not the power of raising her in the eyes of the world, and giving her that consequence she wished. 144 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Cloud clears up. Major Breretoii quitted London^ and retired to a small village near Wejniouth, on the remains of his broken fortune. He had quitted the service^ but its habits could not wholly be laid aside ; where he found the military, he naturally associ- ated with them ; and the inhabitants of the village expressed tiieir wonder to each other, who that line-painted dashing kept- woman was, who was always walking about with the foreign officers that were ijuartered there. This, however, was soon cleared up. The constant invitations she received and accepted of, to balls and concerts, where the first characters attended: her respect- able friends and relations, well known^ who called on her in their way to Wey- mouth, soon shewed Mrs. Brereton to be the honoured wife of a gentleman, and the beloved kinswoman of some of the first families in the kingdom for nobility and virtue. THE HON. MRS^ EGERTON. 145 She goes to the East Indies. Out of humour with her unkind and ungrateful country-women, she prevailed on her husband to permit her to accom- pany him to the East IiKlies, where a lu- crative situation was offered him; and where, after staying a few years^ a dis- tant relation to the Major's, of the name of Egerton, bequeathed him his immense fortune and his name. Never could wealth have offered itself iii a more welcome, nor in a more seasonable hour : They departed for England, with their minds tutored by a knowledge of the world, and their extravagant pro- pensities checked by the experience of pecuniary embarrassment. To the ardent vivacity of Mrs. Brereton, succeeded the soft resignation and equa- lised cheerfulness of Mrs. Egerton. Her ^yes sparkled not with their wonted life and fire ; but thej gleamed with a smile TOL. I. H 146 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. indicative of what they had been : she was thinner and paler, but she was more in- teresting. She appeared to look forward with hope; it was the sweet hope that calumny will not again assail her, and it never will while she is very rich ! ! ! SIR THEODORE BRYDGES. ** Quod non vetat lex, hoc vetat fieri pudor." Seneca. JL HIS is a kind of character which wc should hope seldom appears on the great theatre of life : a disgrace to the part al- lotted him; presenting only to the behold- ers a picture of depravity and vice, in- stead of following- the steps of virtue chalked out for him at his entrance into polished life, by virtuous instructors and anxious parents. By such a man as Sir Theodore Brydges is the female mind and charac- ter destroyed; watching, like the wily crocodile, how he can draw into his power unsullied virgin innocence and conjugal honour; both are equally his predestined prey. He admires the mo- desty of the bashful maid, destroys what he admires, and then deserts her ; he is h2 148 LONDON CitARACTERS. Seduction described. charmed with beholding an affectionate wife ; like the first tempter^ he watches the endearments of an happy couple, re- solves to undermine and destroy that fe- licity by every art which man can put *ii practice^ and rests not till a wife's ca- resses are lavished on himself. So con- summate is his artifice^ so progressive the steps he takes, and the plans he lays for the seduction of a weak-minded young female, when his intended victim is mar- ried:, that he gains first the friendly confi- dence of the wife, and by degrees aportion of that wife's tenderness, till she finds herself plunged at last in irremediable guilt ; this renders her, who is not yet lost to the sense of virtue, odious to her- self: unable to bear the burden of her crime, she becomes cheerless, she loses all her former gaiety ; and the bright glow of beauty gone by, she becomes disgust- ing to him who has despoiled her of her charms and vivacity, who deserts and SIR THEODORE BRYDGES. 149 Clarissa Wakefield. abandons her to carry discord and an- guish into the bosom of some other fa- mily. The subject we shall first treat of, is Sir Theodore's seduction of a virtuous and innocent young female, the daughter of a respectable Ecclesiastic. Lovely in her person;, mild and modest in her de- meanor, the unfortunate Clarissa Wake- field could not yet be insensible to those delicate attentions paid her by a man of Sir Theodore's rank : In vain her mind, in the hour of reasoning reflection, ^yould urge to her, that he was exalted too high above her, and that his heart-stealing blan- dishments might most probably be fol- lowed by illicit proposals. She shud- dered at the idea ; and the next time she saw him, received him with a becoming distance and reserve. He had been accustomed to study, with care, that faihful picture of a youthful unsuUiedmindjthe countenance; h3 150 LONDON CHARACTERS. Cunning and Hypocrisy. and when he saw her fearful modestj painted on her% he knew well how to b^ the kind and cheerful, though correct, friend : without hazarding one word that might glance on the subject of love, with- rut giving one single pressure of the bandj and carefully to abstain from all particular conversation : his adieu rather bordered on coldness, and he took care that a long interval should take place be- fore he repealed his visit. '' I have been perhaps too rigid ;** the sweet girl would say to herself — for the lov e he had already professed, the chastened softness of his former embraces had, unheedingly and insidiously, stolen into her bosom. " I see him not now, perhaps I shall never see him more, or, worse than all, perhaps he no longer loves me !" She was anxious to prove to him, at their next interview, that he was by na meani indifferent to her. Bui he watched her j he kept her in that continued state SIR THEODORE BRYDGES. 151 Inconstancy and Levity. of anxiety, till lie saw the sure hold he had of her affections, trifled with them, and then basely ^' Seized the minute of returning love." Soon he left this lovely but unfortu- nate girl to deplore her fault, and exe- crate the hour that she lent an ear to this base betrayer. Charming as she was, she could not fix his inconstant and wa- vering heart, but for a very short period of time. Promiscuous and varied gallan- try were best suited to the capricious sensuality of his ideas ; and the unfortu- nate Countess of Lerranagh, the wife of an Irish Earl, was the next conspicuous object of his licentiousness. We pass over his subaltern amours, in the interval which took place, between his treacherous seduction of the Clergy- man's daughter, and that of his conduct H 4 152 LONDON CHARACTERS. A new Misti' towards the lady in question ; but we are told tbej were numerous. Lady lerranagh appeared to bold a longer empire over bis inconstant beart than all his other female conquests ; for the guilty commerce carried on be- tween them^ by circumstances which were brought to lightj must have continued some length of time before it was disco- vered. One summer's evening led to ih& developem^ent of this fatal transaction. A few friends were on a visit to the Earl ; a walk in the grounds was pro- posed^ from which her Ladyship begged to be excused^ aliedging indisposition. But as the party was returning home- wards^ late in the evening, to the surprise of Lord Lerranagh, they met her, leaning familiarly on the arm of Sir Theodore, without bat or shawl, and by no meaas- SIR THEODORE BRYDGES. 153 An unexpected Confession. r ■ . = having the appearance of a person indis- posed. When retired to rest, her Lord told her that he thought she was very impru- dent. Alas ! good man, he little ima- gined her to be more ; and it is a doubt- ful point whether he meant that she was imprudent, having a cold, to go out in the evening as she had done, or whether he alluded to her conduct with Sir The- odore Brydges. The dreadful conviction of her guilt flushed in her face, and stuck its rankling arrows into her reproaching conscience. '' Oh ! my dear, my injured Lord," she cried, '' I am more than imprudent ! But hear me, on my knees, solemnly assert, 1 give up all future connexion and ac- quaintance with the vile seducer. Sir Theodore Brydges, who has made it his Unremitting endeavour, ever since he h5 154 LONDON CHARACTERS. Continuation. came to tliehouse^ fo draw mj affections from yoUj and possess my person!" The character of Lord Lerranaghismild^ gentle and rational. SirlheodoreBrydges, thought he to himself, has acted the part of a villain^ but I detest duelling : I will expostulate with him. Still he had no idea of the extent of his misery or his disgrace ; no idea that his wife was actu- ally guilty, but imagined she had only accused Sir Theodore to him for his want of honour, and herself as criminal in having listened to him, and not impart- ing his dishonourable proposals before to her husband. They passed a wretched night. Lord Lerranagh dreaded the meeting with a man v, hom he had ever looked upon, and was yet willing to believe was still his friend : But for his honour, he knew the necessity of forever giving up his friend- ship and future acquaintance. — The SIR THEODORE BRYDGES. 155 Impudence of the Seducer. tears of Lady Lerranagh bedewed her pillow J and she arose in the morning the picture of agony and despair. She ob- tained an opportunity of speaking to Sir Theodore. She told him of the confes- sion she had made ; exhorted him^ if his life was dear to him^ to fly, or dreadful might bethe consequences. — He execrated her folly for the premature avowal of their correspondence ; ridiculed her fears for his life ; stigmatizing and laughing at the man he had so basely injured as an arrant coward, who knew better than to fight with a man so well skilled as himself in duelling. And Sir Theodore Brydges was as famous for that genteel mode of murder, as for other prevalent vices of this polished century. Frantic, unconscious how she acted, Uie again bent her steps to the chamber of her injured husband. She found him much ind.'sposed, from the restlessness lie had experienced the preceding night, h6 156 LONDON CHARACTERS* A Mystery unravelled and his frameshook with the agitation her presence produced on his mind. He was caressing a lovely little infant. She suddenly caught the child from his arms^ put it hito those of the nurse., and ordered her to quit the room with it. — • ^' My Emily/' said her kind hushand^ ^' why are you thus agitated ? Be as- sured, I lay not the least hiame on you^, only that you did wrong in not immedi- ately informing me of the improper con- duct of Sir Theodore towards you." *' I charge you, my Lord/* said she^ ^' as you value your own honour, never touch that child again : It is not your's ! It is the ofispring of Sir Theodore Brydges, by your guilty wife ! — And now, once more, I kneel ; I kneel to re- quest one last favour of you, before we part for ever ! — I solemnly entreat that you risk not your life against that of the vile Brydges; expose him publicly J ex* SIR THEODORE BRYDGESo 167 A fair Expostulation. pose your guilty abandoned wife^ and let her not receive that forgiveness from so- ciety which she is resolved never to ac- cept from you, her injured Lord.— Let me be held up as a mark to posterity 5 and let me feel the penance of neglect aud contempt for my shameful conduct. Oh ! swear, my Lord ; swear, that you will perform this my last supplication l'" The result has proved how his Lord- ship attended to this unhappy pleader. — What the agonies of her soul must have been, either when led to make, or when making the fatal confession, is beyond the conception of the human mind. No one, but a person in the same dreadful situation, can form the feeblest imagina- tion of th is torturing racking of the hu- man heart. How new must she have been to vice^ how unskilled in intrigue, to make her hus- band's heart the depository of this dread- ful secret ! And what ^rts must have been 158 LONDON CHARACTERS, Reflections. used, what sophistry practised, to turn a mind to guilt, which evinced itself to be naturally the seat of innocent candour and virtue. She could not endure to receive the af- fectionate care of an injured husband. His reproach, though kindly meant, wounded her susceptible heart. She scorns to receive his unmerited attention, and makes ample confession of her fault. Oh ! Sir Theodore Brydges, what hast thou not to answer for in corrupting such a mind ? We have been informed, that since this unhappy event, he has attempted to destroy himself: it was but a vague re- port, which is now contradicted. No ! live Sir Theodore ; we wish thee to live; we wish thee to feel, in some degree, the pangs thou hast inflicted en others. We wish not to see thee have thy marriage couch profaned^ and thy SIR THEODORE BRYDGES, 159 A Wish. innocent daughters seduced ; the lex ta^ Uohis is not the Christian's law j but we wish to know that thou feelest severe compunction for thy repeated offences against God and man : and we conclude in one pious wish^ that thy late guilty life may be purified by long and sincere repentance, lest that punishment, whose slow, but invariable steps, follow close the guilty, should attain thee when it is least expected. *' Rarb antecedentem Scelestum, *' Deseruit pede poena claudo«" Horat« MRS. VILLENEUF. Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur." P. Syr. Xhis Lady is the wife of a rich City merchant^ who is enabled to support her in splendour^ and introduce her into the circles of fashion. She attaches no duty to the title of wife^ but rather makes it a privilege to indulge every idle and extra- vagant inclination ; aud^ it is much doubted whether she keeps her pleasures within the bounds of innocent freedoms. The pretended fondness she lavishes on her husband, even in the presence of those whom she has suffered to entertain her with their real or well-feigned love for her, and which professions she has been willing to return, in all their out- ward appearance of ardour, must, we should imagine, create a disgust in those 1G2 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Danger of Male Friends. men, whom her beautiful person has in- spired with a momentary passion : She often males use of these blandishments to the unsuspecting Mr. Villeneuf, the bet- ter to persuade him to invite her male favourites to dinner, or to her evening parties. lie is an easy-tempered man, much engaged in business, and looks upon her api arent sincerity as childish artless- nessj utterly devoid of guile. We should be happy could we shew the same lenity to Mrs. Villeneuf; but what can induce a married woman, who lives in harmony with her husband, to persist in the endeavour of drawing the hearts of all the men she sees towards her- self : to court the society of absolute strangers of the opposite sex ; and she even has been known to make assignations^ with them. She begins her morning operations, like a professed courtezan, as soon as her MRS. VILLENEUF. 169 Catching Birds as they fly. breakfast is completed : She bares her bosom and shoulders in the most indeli- cate manner^ and highly rouges a face on which is already seated the bloom of early youth. In this unmatronly guise she draws her seat close to one of her front draw- ing-room windows, which are made even with the floor^ and there she sits playing with her child, or leads, by some other attraction, the eyes of all the idle young men who pass by. As she was seated in this way one morning, she drew the attention of a very handsome young man, who, taking her for a lady of improper character and profession, knocked at the door, and told the servant who opened it, he wished to speak to his mistress ; and the man im- mediately ushered him into the drawing- room. She had noticed this gentleman in the^ street intently gazing at her, and 164 LONDON CHiRACTERS. A chance Lover- her folly and vanity felt highly gratified to find him seated by her side, rivetting his looks on her with that kind of ten- der expression which a man of intrigue so well knows how to throw into his ejes. The young man found an air about every thing around him, in the behaviour of the servants^ in a carriage or two cal- ling, the owners of which left their tickets> w hich proved to him that she was a mar- ried lady, the respected rnistress of the hous3, though her conduct so little deserv- ed respect. In his conversation, he first in- troduced general topics : he found she had not much to say ; very little mind about her, but seemingly well skilled in throwing out the allurements of her person : She often smiled where she should not, but that was easily pardoned ; for she treated the beholder with the display of beauti- ful dimples, and a set of teeth white as ivory. MRS. VILLENEUF. 16j A Rendezvous. The young man was more apprehensive than the lady of Ler hus^iaud's return. He hastily introduced the subject of love, and the deep impression \ er beauty had made on him. She was delighted, her animation gave her new charms in the eyes of the enamoured Alfred, for no other name would he ever give her, no other knowledge did she ever obtain of who he really was, but that his christian jiame was Alfred j Alfred, before he quitted the house, obtained her consent to give him a meet- ing, the next morning, in an adjoining square ! They afterwards soon parted to meet no more ; and she shed some tears at separating from her Alfred. She told this event in confidence to a friend ; and indeed every one she saw, whom she found possessed of the least good nature, was her confidente ; but she happened to mention this ridiculous af- 166 LONDON CHARACTERS. A mild and tender Censor. fair to a woman of exemplary prudence, who had known Mrs. Villeneuf from her infancy. She chid her, not like a se- vere and envious censor, but she tenderly exhorted her, and kindly admonished her to be more prudent. Guilty, whatever she thought, she would not pretend to believe her. She begged her to consider what she owed to her parents, to her hus- band and family ! ^' But, Evelina," said, this amiable woman, '' if you are deter- mined to continue this unguarded, this faulty conduct, I beseech you, confide not your reprehensible behaviour to me ; and permit me to withdraw my acquaintance, though your mother was so anxious you should preserve it : You know how with tears, on your arrival in this giddy me- tropolis, she charged me to watch over you on the entrance into gay life : My admonitions have been useless ; allow me then, to absent myself from your society.** With all the most solemn professioni MRS. VILLENEUF. 167 Love no one but your Husband. she could make use of, Mrs. Villeneuf declared herself innocent ; that she had only met her dear Alfred and walked with him ; but she could not help loving him. " But my dear child/' said her friend^ " You are now to love no one but your husband/* '' Oh ! replied Mrs. Ville- neuf, ^' I have now parted with Alfred never to see him more ! I will, indeed, think only of Villeneuf; do not you for- sake me/' Whether the connexion Mrs. Villeneuf had with Alfred was really innocent, there yet remams a doubt ; it probably might be so, for he was a refined young man, and was, it is most likely, disgusted with the forwardness of Mrs. Villeneuf. We should suppose that young men of any mind are not fond of so easy a conquest. For some time after this event, though 16B LONDON CHARACTERS. A narrow Escape. Mrs.Villeneuf still continued in her un- dress, like a painted transparency at her window, yet nothing material occurred to her in her career of lover-catching, till being one evening introduced to the friend of an unfortunate young lady, who \isited this country after having united herself to an ungrateful usurper, Mrs. Villeneuf pointed all the artillery of her personal charms at this friend. He was at first very near being drawn into her snares ; but as he was a man of most correct manners, some unwarrantable li- cence in her behaviour towards him, made him quit her, with a contempt bordering on disgust. Men like to caress, but not to be much caressed. If the two great principles of Attack and Defence between the sexes, are entirely done away with, love expands his broad wings, and flies off, never to be re- pealled ! MRS. VILLENEUF. 169 • Conclusion. The unpardonable outward behaviour of Mrs. Viileneuf is so palpably licen- tiouSj that charity scarce knows how to undertake her defence. It is true before her marriage she lived almost entirely in the country. The scenes of London, and its gaities open to her bewildered senses a new world ; and it is now indeed too much a world of dissipation and gal- lantry : This has probably affected a mind naturally weak. If not actually guilty, we fear that mind is become cor- rupt. We hope she will stop in time, and preserve by her future merit, that affec- tion from a kind husband she now so amply possesses, and we are sorry to add she so little deserves. TOL. I, Gen. Sir MARMADUKE BROOKS, Nullus argcnto color est nisi temperate — Splendeat usu." HoR' X HIS 2:entle!nan, the deserving favourite of fortune^ ranks high for his military services and knowledge, and for a mind Avell cultivated bv a finished and polite education. On his first embracing a military life, young Brooks had no dependance but his commission : Born a poor gentleman, he knew not only the value of every shil- lings but of an humble sixpence also; that a farthirg was the fourth part af a penny, and if taken care of, was so much saved towards the making one ! Whoever now sees Sir Marmaduke Brooks, must discover that in his youth lie was eramently beautiful : His couii- I 2 173 . LONDON CHARACTERS. Preliminary Observations. tenanc€ is still so ; he is above six feet in stature, possesses a Soldier's phisiogno- niy, with eyes of the sofest mildness, a roman nose, with a hetwitching mouth and fine teeth. He wasj therefore, it may easily be con- ceived, admired by the ladies, especially when red coats were not so familiar to the eye as they are at the present day ; but Sir Marmaduke, knowing his pover- ty, steeled his heart against all their at- tacks ; a man who loves money very sel- dom devotes his time to the ladies. In the mean time, there were many who were captivated not only by his fine per- son^ but by the sweet ea&« and polish of his manners. But he was not an insensible; he did 1 >ve, and he was beloved : Yt t the lady's fortune being but small, he durst not think of her : The prohibition of his pa- rent also forbade it, and Sir Marmaduke GEN. SIR MARMADUKE BROOKS. 173 Union of congenial Souls. was the most dutiful of sons ; he^ there- fore, gave up all thoughts of her, and married a lady of good fortune, which was to be considerably increased at the death of her father. They had been acquainted from child- hood ; she was a smart agreeable woman; he could not be averse to an union with her ; and the sweet mild temper he had ever evinced in private life, ensured them that happiness which they have now long and mutually experienced in the married state. Love in his philosophical and pa- tient mind was vanquished : His long ad- mired lady also married ; and, in one im-= portant respect, he found himself united to a congenial soul, that of loving and saving money ! His bravery, his knowledge of all the theoretical and practical parts of war, iluring that of America, entitled him to, I 3 1'74 LONDON CHARACTERS. A true honest Man. and procured liim the countenance and protection of men of high rank, >vliich Ihcj held both as nobienieii and officers. This knowledge increased liis revenues with his rapid promotion, and eniploved liim in a department which, though it required great military talents, was ex- tremely lucrative. Having got into a confirmed habit of lioardipg, he was soon enabled lo realize a considerable share of wealth. His in- tegrity was however unequalled, and has ever continued so ; he pays his trades- men not only with punctuality, but with the most ready cheerfulness ; and though every opportunity was, and is still given him, of making money, he scorns to do it at the expence of Government, or by the least unfair dealing with any one indi- vidual. He has for many years been Lieutenant GEN. SIR MARMADUKE BROOKS. 175 Refined Economy. Governor of one of our most important garrisons; round which he often walks in a coat and boots which excite many a smhle and proverbial witticism from the vounger officers^ who ail love him nevertheless to almost a degree of adoration; so re- markably sweet, so polite and conciliat- ing are his manners to all classes of peo- ple, to the poor as well as the rich^ to the young and the eld. But the love of money still prepon- derates in his miiid. Sir Marmaduke is so richj that he scarce knows himself the extent of his wealth. With age the close vice of avarice increases^ and though they keep a great establishment^ and live in all the apparent luxury of ease^ yet Lady Brooks takes special care that no- thing shall be lost;, even to the little fea- ther Ijiat may chance tofii/from the bed. Sir Marmaduke denies himself many I 4 176 LONDON CHARACTERS. Avarice chills the Heart. superfluities of life, which to the rich are really necessary comforts, and to pur- chase which the money expended from his immense revenues would hardly be missed* For whom do they thus accumulate riches ? Their only child is married 5 and married where gold flows in abun* dance. When this cold and repellant quality takes root in an elegant mind like Sir Marmaduke's, it is particularly to be deplored : Perfection is not, nor ever will be, the lot of erring humanity ; but as '' every one has his fault/* we could al- most wish a man like the above charac- ter, had some other vice though per- haps it might be even of greater magni- tude ; because the vice of avarice shuts up all the avenues of the heart, and hardens it, like the metal it is so fond of. GEN. SIR MARMADUKE BROOKS. 177 Conclusion. till it becomes impenetrable to that divine feeling, which makes the misfortunes of another its own. Without any consideration of the in- creased expences of the times, he will express his astonishment at the pecuni- ary embarrassments of a man, who per- haps has one shilling where Sir Marma- duke has a thousand pounds ; and he will wonder at the Lieutenant who has no- thing but his^^ pay, that cannot support himself and his wife with credit, and the gentility his profession unavoidably requires of him, on the scanty pittance of five shillings and eight pence per day. This parsimony is a spot in a good man's character : It is more : It is a stain ! The love of money is justly said to be the root of all evil ; it binds a man down, however religious, to the perishable riches of this earth, seeking the golden mine xleep buried in her bosom, sooner than i5 178 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. a. '.■•.. . ' . ■ ■ ■ '••-' the approbation or the prospect of hea- ven ; it destroys all the social virtues ; rendering his life ever anxious and un- happy; the conclusion of it unwelcome to himself and unlamented by pthers. LADY LAURA PEMBERTOX. The Thorn bears no Grapes. Aoag. GaiC. I^VDY Laura Elton was the youngest of the numerous (laughters of the Ea.l ofThornboroiigh^ most of them remark- able for their personal attractions ; she for a fascination, accompanying the charms of her face and figure^ peculiar to herself. In temper and disposition^ she had something in the combination resembling the Flavilla of Hawkesworth^ ^*^ great sweetness blended with an high spirit/' but she had not the imprudence of tlie unfortunate Flaviiia. Lady Laura was ever remarkable for the contrary virtue ; and her conduct was so chastely correct, s.o strongly fortified by prudence, that the remarkable frankness and openness of her I 6 180 LONDON CHARACTERS. Her Character. character^ never caused an impertinent word or address to be directed to her ; because her pure and native dignity in- stantly checked the rising idea of impro- per freedom^ over-awed the most insolent, and commanded respect even from those, who might be the least inclined of any, to afford it to her. At a very early age she united herself in marriage to a Major Pemberton of the Guards^ and the purest love and es- teem were the motives which actuated both. By this marriage she had three lovely children, to whom all her affection soon became transferred ; as the Major began to show himself to be a man unworthy so rich a treasure as he possessed in his Laura. She was the little idol of the re- giment to which he belonged ; and his vanity was highly gratified in seeing her flattered and caressed; but his heart LADY LAURA PEMBEETON. IM She appears a dashing Woman. became estranged from her^ and his in- consistent conduct, and systematic ill- treatment of her, checked the natural vi- vacity of her temper ; aiid the smiles which dressed her countenance in the public scene of gaity, were succeeded by an overbalance of tears in her private and solitary hours. The late EarPs numerous family had of course left but very little portion for his daughters. Major Pemberton was Hot rich, but he launched into expences of the most extravagant nature ; and was ambitious that his wife should appear the most dashing woman in the regiment; that her horses, her carriage, should be the most fashionable and most superb, and her liveries continually new. No one loved elegance better than Lady Laura; no one understood it so well; no one knew better that it does not consist in expensive ornaments, but that much ]S2^ LONDCN CHARACTERS. Her Husband goes Abroad cost lavished on them, only destroys that simplicity which gives to elegance, when iiiiited with taste, its greatest charm. She had been early accustomed to that econo- my, vvhich, however elevated the station in life maybe, must yet be preserved in a large family. No one was more natu- rally generous, and no one could econo- mise better : Long, very long ago, but for her provident care. Major Pemberton would have been a ruined man ! • The regiment he belonged to was or- dered abroad, while her three children were in the early stages of childhood. She felt this separation keenly ; she still dearly loved her ungi atcfnl husband ; he loved her also, but he loved himself, and his expensive and destructive pleasures better! Lady Laura, after his departure, placed tier little girl at school ; and taking her LADY LAURA PEMBERTOX. 163 A rigid Disciple of the Old School. infant boys with her, she repaired to the country seat of the Countess Dowager of Thornborough, her mother. The old Lady Dowager was a good woncian^ but her temper was trying and unpleasant ; to keep up her dignity in high style^ with her chaplains and a nu- merous train about her^ she would prac- tise many mortifying acts of self-denial ; was parsimonious in many things to an extreme^ and was a rigid disciple of the Old School. The lively Lady Laura went with an heavy heart to immure herself in this gloomy mansion, anxiously waiting for news from her yet loved husband. He wrote to her but seldom ; and she heard alarming accounts from other quarters of his improper conduct, his outrageous and haughty behaviour to his snperior cfiScers, and those beneath him. How often did she wish she had braved every 184 L0NDON characters; She repairs to a Cottage Orn6. danger^ and had accompanied him ; hop- ing-, and fondly imagining, that she miglit have been a check on his extravagances and imprudence. No, Laura, not even thou canst check confirmed inconsistency ., nor the untoward spirit of an head-strong, impetuous man I We will pass over many a sad hour she numbered ; many a sleepless night of agony, and many a tearful morning. She had the painful task of closing a mother's eyes ; and the thoughts of her mind were in some degree dissipated, by arranging with Lady Caroline (her only sister who remained unmarried,) her late parentis affairs. Her brothers arrived, took pos- session of the house, and she accompanied Lady Caroline to her future residence, which was a small cottage orne at some distance. Lady Caroline was quite the common- place woman of quality ; she hud so long borne with her mother's humours, by LADY LAURA PEMBERTON. l&D Her Husband's return. being' continuallj^ with hei% that it had given a listless kind of callousness to a naturally lively and ardent mind. How- ever, Lady Laura has ever done her the justice to say, that she behaved to her in a very trying period of her life, which followed in a short time after, in the most warm, affectionate, and sisterly manner : For the Major soon arrived in England ; he had quitted his regiment, and return- ed to his Laura, almost a bankrupt in fortune, through his. own shameful ex- travagance. A series of repeated infidelities, neg- lect, and cruel behaviour, on his part, since his return, oppressed the active mind of Lady Laura, and brought on a nervous disorder. We forbear giving a detail of his conduct; such is too much the same, and too well known in the cha- racter of a fashionable husband. That afflicting malady, which equally 186 LONDON CHARACTERS. * He drags her Children from her. attacks the nerves and mind^ this mad- headed young II an increased bj an ac- iloQj the most iinfecling on his side, and the most trjiiig to the affectionate heart of a fond mother. She now wished^ and that most ardent- ly^ to separate her fate from his. Her children were the only ties which hound her to him. Her excellent disposition wished him well^ and still felt zealously alive to his interests ; but love in a mind like her's^ could no longer find a place for such a worthless object. Unrelenting, unheeding of her most earnest intreaties, (for he had bowed her spirit to the earth, and humbly and fer- vently she condescended to implore the destroyer of her domestic happiness, to liear her supplications ; but in vain ! ) he dragged her children from her; and thia ill-assorted pair separated for the present^ but without any written forms; and she LADY LAURA PEMBERTON. 187 She i.embies for her Daughter. was still liable to liis insults aud oppros- s-ion. At the time be tore her chilclrcn from her^ be took also licr diamonds and other valuable ornaments; but^ like another Cornelia, she had alwajs thought her children her most estimable jewels.. He has since bestowed the greatest part of her most cosllj trinkets, which once adorned, or rather borrowed ornament from, the beauteous bosom of unsullied purity, to decorate that of the meretrici- ous and abandoned courtezan. And now, knowing the libertinism of the father's principles^ having, at iicr early 3 ears, obtained such a sad, though extensive and useful knowledge of the world, and seen so much of the licenti- ousness of modern manners, her mind be- came anguished by the most painful soli- citude for the fate of her beloved daugh- 188 LONDON CHARACTERS. He Tears. ter: She dreaded ie&t the father might take her from school, and establish her in his own domestic circle. What might not be ,the result ! Her heart then estran- ged from her mother . . . And she would have constantly before her the dreadful example, in a v/oman of high fashion and great family, almost living with her father, and publicly avowing an attach- ment to him . She regained, by powerful exertions, the native energy of her mind : She hast- ened to save a daughter ! Yet still the mournful idea of being parted from her beloved boys, one an infant, sometimes so oppressed her spirits, as made her al- most sink under the arduous undertaking. Her elder brothers were worldly men, by no means warm-hearted; and, as they had ever strenuously opposed her marri- age with Major Pemberton, they took this unseasonable opportunity, to con- LADY LAURA PExMBERTON. 189 A Deed of Separation. vincc her of their own penetration, and to shew her the folly of her not haying at- tended to their advice : but yet, even they, in concurrence with the advice of all her other friends urged her^ in the most earnest manner, to have articles of separation, ready drawn up, iu flie most regular and forcible terms, and whea signed, properly witnessed. In these articles, she insisted on having her daughter with her, and of taking the sole charge of her education and future fate in life. The writings were easily executed ; but her soul-harassing husband refused for a long time to sign them. One re- source was left her. She knew his extra- vagance often made him feel the want of money ; which, though he was sometimes supplied with from the woman who forgot her own dignity, and that of her noble family, in her illicit 190 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Deed is signed. inclination, yet her pecuniary assistance could not be great, as she was, in some degree, dependant on a brother. Lady Laura, therefore, willing to give up all to obtain her darling daughter, offered the small remains of that for- tune which her mother left her at her flcath. As soon as cash ran short with Pem- "berton, he eagerly signed the deed of se- paration. The mind of Lady Laura released from the heavy weight that hung over it, soon regained its accustomed tone of trength. And now every one of her high and respectable friends seemed to vie with each other who should most afford her protectitin and assistance. Her fortune now remaining was but very small ; it was but a trifling bequest left her by her grandmother, independent of all her other relations ; but her native taste and LADY LAURA FEMBERTO?^. 191 Rtfiections. elegance, the happy art of uniting well- timed and requisite expense with a par- tial frugality, rendered the stjle of Lady Laura's dress and living superior to that of many who are possessed of double her income. Lovely in person, it cannot be sup- posed, that she can have been always entirely free from solicitations of a ten- der nature : But how soon were they checked, how soon has presumption been over-awed by the mild though firm dig- nity of her manners ! Her prudence, the elegant turn of her mind, her undeserved fate, her uncom- mon share of intellectual knowledge, have gained her the countenance of Royalty i<«8lf : All the correct and higher classes of nobility, all the eminent in the lite- rary world, are eagerly anxious that she should make one in their most brilliant parties : and many there are who feel 19S LONDON CHARACTERS, Lady Laura's deserved encomium. proud in saying, that on such an evening, or at such a d naer party, they had the happiness of being seated by that charm- ing woman. Lady Laura Pemberton. She attends with the most unremitting perseverance to the accomplishments of her daughter^ and watches her progress m them with incessant care. The fond wishes of this inestimable parent will notbe disappointed ; Miss Pemberton promises to crown all her affectionate desires, and to be in many respects the counterpart of her excellent mother. So pure, so regulated is the conduct of Lady Laura, by the strictest rules of de^ corum, that the most inveterate calumny has never dared to touch it with her sooty finger. Her unfortunate husband sees too late the intrinsic worth and shining contents of the beautiful casket he has thrown away : he has endeavoured, by the fairest promises and most ardent LADY LAURA PEMBERTON. 193 Conjugal love is not easily extinguished. protestations of reformation, to persuade her to again unite herself to him. Though she knows his fluctuating mind and wa- vering heart so well, jet he isthe father of her dear hoySj and when he has sought a reconciliation^ it gives her severe trials, and sadly injures her nervous system. Conjugal love in so warm a heart cannot be easily, nor indeed never wholly, extin- guished: But all her friends^ and indeed even tlie relations of Major Pemberton, warn her to be careful of again putting herself in his power. • Indeed we fear -.he constant and ha- bifual practice of relaxed and libertine manners in JVIajor Pemberton has con- firmed them into principles that have taken root, which now actuate his mind, and will long be the springs of his future conduct: we wish we may be mistaken; but "^ the Ethiopian cannot change his skin, nor the leopard his spots.'* TOL. I. K JOSEPH BAXTER, ESQ. " Integervitae Scekrisque purus." Ho rat. Ihe pride of the lily sometimes adorns the humblest vallies, and it is not uncomr men to gather tiie modest and shy vioiet on the brows of high craggy mountains. Virtue and vice^ though of an opposite nature, thrive ia the same grounds, and all classes of society are open to them* Oh ! that all distinctions between maa and man were measured upon the quau" linn of virtue or vice found in each individual ! Tl>en, surely^ our morals would in)prove, and the general happi- ness of mankind w ould be the desired re- sult of it! Joseph Baxter^ is a native of Suffolk^ and has been an inhabitant of London for these last thirty years. Liberall v edu- k2 196 LONDON ch\racti:rs. His apartments cated^ literature and antiquarian pur- suits are his hobby-horse ; but too small an income has restrained the bent of his soul nearly in all the circumstances of his life. What struggles, \vhat privations, what trouble and pain, were not suffered «r made use of, as necessary engines, to arrive fairly and most honesUy to the object of his wishes ? . . . . However, perseverance and economy have. conquer- ed all. Retired, as a lonely anchorite, in flie attic apartment of an inn of Court, there, not unlike the bird of Minerva, who perches on the neighbouring gutter, and ^^ moping to the Moon complains,*' our friend silently and wisely enjoys what he calls (and who dares say he is not right ? ) .a comfortable life. He is fond of old engravings and musty pictures ; his room does not exhibit an inch of plaster that is not closely co- JOSEPH BAXTER, ESQ. 197 a true Microcosm. verecl with such precious decoralioDs, His tolerance lias allowed him to be foinl of popish relicks j and pieces of copes and chalices from the times of the Hep>- tarchy to this day, are hung respectfully around his bed-chamber. Old missals^ curious editions of scarce books, sleep on his shelves ; and precious medals repose in his cabinets. Ancient stained glass chequers his window-frames with the seven-fold glories of the rainbow, and Pvlambrino's helmet chides its neighbour^ the real bit of copper- ore, for its not ex- posing more significantly the greenish treasures of its bosom. In fact, and with- out joke, Mr. Baxter's small apartment is truly a kind of microcosm, where time and place have lost their distances; where the pr)duces of Otaheite and Mexico, are contiguous to the Bullish and French beautiful china; where the Etruscan vase displays its red and black allegories by the sides of modern filigree. k3 198 LONDON CHARACTERS. His Means. But how could any body gather so many and valuable curiosities^ with no other help but a very small patrimony^ which his prudence bids him to preserve, and natural tearfulness forbids him to in- c rcase ? For these last thirty years he has employed the same hair-dresser, who, out of respect (we suppose) never raised his price; the same laundress and her daughter have constantly attended him for ihe same wages, because, as they say, they are sure of their money, let it be ever «o little ; and the same cookshop, or, if you will, the same tavern, has contributed to his subsistence. A constant cus- tomer for so long a period, is sure to be well-treated, and Mr. Baxter never found cause to change his board. So* hriety with him is the order of the day ; but a friend can enjoy, at his chambers, as comfortable a cup or dish of tea, as at any Alderman's rose-wood table. JOSEPH BAXTER^ ESQ. 199 His Haunts. Generally averse to crowds, he runs through the street ; and, if he is ever pressed or jammed any where, it must be in some foreign chapel, where, though bred up a member of the established church, he often repairs to enjoy the sight of the Russian or Roman liturgies. As his days are peaceful and harmless, his nights are undisturbed and happy. His diet is regular, light, and whole- some ; therefore he enjoys his health. But do not believe that the overplus of his income is exclusively spent to satisfy his whims, and buy f dder for his hob- by-horses — He feels as a man ought for the miseries of others ; the sly shilling often drops from his hand into (he worn- out hat of the blind and lame, and they bless him, as they would an angel, invis^r ble and unknown. In one word, Mr. Baxter's life, which, we are sorry to say, is now on the decline, has been like the nightly lamp, that w 4 200 LONDON CHARACTERS* The only Fault be ever committed. keeps itself in darkness^ whilst it illumi- nates all aroundj and for the many 3 ears we have observed him attentively^ we ne- ver heard him complain of any body^ nor any body complain of him ; the only harm he has ever been the cause of, and often deplored^ was his treading unknow- ingly on the tender corn of a lady's foot^ at the Queen's birth-day ;, ten or twelve days ago. Mr. Baxter is a bachelor, therefore he never enjoyed the sweets of conjugal lovCj and the comforts of a father : no—- surely — nor the bitterness of jealousy, and the continual anxieties of a tender parent for his children. The journal of his daily conduct is as follows : — Mr. B. rises at half past seven in winter, and at half past five in sum- mer ; lights his fire himself, and dusts his curiosities ; breakfasts exactly at nine; remains in his red damask morning-gown JOSEPH BAXTER, ESQ. 201 His Diary. till ten or eleven ; dresses, and goes to take a walk if the weather proves fine ; returns home at one, studies till three : goes to the tavern, dines, takes a second walk, or returns home if it rains ; drinks tea at six precisely ; writes or reads till nine ; drinks a glass of ale, with a slight crust of hread, and at half past nine re- tires to his bed, where he sleeps soundly till the next day brings the same routine aver again. k5 THE HON, CAVENDISH WORSLEY. •* Nunc est bibcndum : nunc pede libero ** Pulsanda tcllus." .... Horat, vy HEN a stranger beholds the deli- cacy and freshness of a complexion rather feminine^, ^vith small regular features, a low stature, and the contour of the body round and plump, but by no means stout, he is verj^ much inclined to think that the Honourable Cavendish Worsley is a lady in male attire. But let the above stranger be only one hour in the company of this honourable descendant of the noble house of East- field, and he will soon retract his opinion. The Honourable Cavendish Worsley finds his chief delight in those truly k6 204 LONDON CHARACTERS, A Baccbanalinn. masculine recreations, of coursing, drink- ing, and horse-racing ; but in the two former consists his greatest gratification. He will sit up indefatigable in the ser- vice of Bacchus, for he is one of his most zealous priests, — be the last man re- maining at the banquet of inebriety ; after seeing all his companions carried from under the table by their ser- vantsj or feebly staggering themselves to their respective homes -, and he seldom quits any party till he has taken off, to his own share, eight bottles ! Now, when he finds on some fine frosty morn- ing, the clock has struck five, at the con- clusion of these drinkiiig orgies, he cal- culates, that in less than three hours the morning will peep out, and that then the timorous hare may be started from her covert, and lordly man may shew his imbecile triumph over the little defence- less creature ! HON. CAVENDISH WORSLEY. 205 Hunting Parties. Accordingly^, he tucks up his legs in a chair, reflecting that it is not worth while to undress himself and go to bed ; snores there till daybreak, slips on, in haste, an old green coat, often torn at the elbows^ and unsewed beneath the arm : he then mounts his tandem, and accompanied by a train of country squires, needy half-pay officers, and two or three of his own class, he begins, and goes through the sports of the field with that arduous avidity, which good health at the age of two and twen- ty enables him to support without fa- tigue. He commands a troop in an old esta« blished regiment of light dragoons, whose Comnlandant married one of his sisters : he is consequently sometimes a little in- dulged ; but there are days that military duty and diseipline miust be attended to ; and the horrid bore of a parade cannot be dispensed v/ith. On these occasions he is often reported sick, till the pretext 206 LONDON CHARACTERS. No strong penchant for the Ladies- is too stale to gain credit^ and the Sur- geon is obliged to do his dutj^ by de- claring that Captain Worsely has nothing the matter with him, and thinks he might very well stand a parade ; and this he is enabled literally to do^, though he may be just emerged from the mess-room, af- ter a long night's bacchanalian riot ; for he can steadily carry oif much more wine than those who appear possessed of five times his strength. He is no particular admirer of the la- dies, though always polite to them, when in their company, and attentive to their wants if he happens at dinner to be seated near them. But he has not yet made any noise by his amorous adventures. He examines the eyes of an horse with much more interest than he would look on the most brilliant pair in the feminine head: and to be coiivinced that a beautiful mare had not '' the mark in her mouth/' is of far greater importance to him, than if his HON. CAVENDISH WORSLEY. 207 His Kennel. own sister's ivory set of teeth had just escaped being knocked out of her lovely mouth by some rueful accident. His dogs are still dearer to him ; Cas- sio, Caesar^ Miss Frolic^ Myrtle, Madame Josephine^ are all associates at and par- takers of his meals, except his breakfast^ or rather his morning draught, which being a mixture of eggs and brandy would not be so pleasant to their palates : for their morning repast, the best white bread and new milk is purchased, and no expence spared in the procuring it. He is a faithfnl disciple of Lavater ; yet the science of phisiognomy in Captain Worsley does not teach him to study the human countenance, but that of the ca- nine species : He can tell to a nicety, the extent of Car tin's abilities and sagacit}^, by looking at the mtaa ng expression of his monkey face : He watches with pre- cision the humble and affectionate looks 208 rONDON CHARACTERS. Canine Physio^^i-omy. of the faithful spaniel; the wiliness of the Pomeranian fox ; the trifling vivacity of the French lion-muff, the shrewd arch- ness of the Ruse tarrier, and the grave and settled determination of the honest mastiff, to protect his master from in- jury : he marks the mixture of futility^ use, and perseverance, in the long coun- tenance of the greyhound ; vacant and making up a kind of nonentity in his cha- racter, when he has nothing to do, but knowing that when he is employed he is useful, and then he perseveres. These, and many other such remarks embellish his conversation when his fa- vourite theme of dogs is brought on the tapis. He has watched their phisiogno'- mies and resulting actions with scrupu- lous care, has made the character of that faithful animal his peculiar study ; and we must say he has seldom been de- ceived in his opinion. How gloriously HON. CAVENDISH WORSLEY. 209 Conclusion. does such a man pass his life time ; how much lamented will he sink into the si- lent grave ! '* Illi mors gravis incubat, Qui notus nimis omnibus, Ignotus moritur sibi.'* Seneca, -YlTE LATE COUNTESS OF EASTWOOD; THE PENITENT WANDERER. Que doit faire un mari quaud ou airae sa femme . . . ? Rien," Lafont, The pride aud boast of England ; once the shielding safeguard of persecuted royalty, as now the bulwark of an happy and established government, several years ago aftorded a name to a beautiful maiden, who was the general admiration of the opposite sex. Amongst others who wore her chains, was the then gallant Lord Tennington, now Earl of Eastwood ; who, whatever faults he had, or may still possess, was yet remarkable for never at- tempting the seduction of elegance and virtue, or even the wish to possess the object of his choice, in any but an ho- nourable wav. 212 LONDON CHARACTERS. Disparity of Fortune. ^ — ■ ■ , - ■ ' ■ ' • ■ w Lady Eastwood was of a good family, had a finished education^ and was lovely in person to a degree of superiority over other women ; but her fortune by no means entitled her to the expectation of an union with a nobleman of Lord Tennington's rank and wealthy acq[ui- sitions. At the death of an old rela- tion she would most probably have some- thing considerable in lauded property: to that his lordship then did not aspire ; though it is now well known, and has been for some years, that, to be the pos- sessor of a prodigious number of acres of land, while he grumbles at the tax levied upon them, is his lordship's hobby* horse. He was, however, and has still shewn himself most elegaitly refined in the choice of his wives : how these wives fare with the Sultan who becomes posses- sor of them is best known in his domestic circle. But we well know thatTuRKEV i$ not the onli/ place where husbands ex- THE COUNTESS OF EASTWOOD. 213 A superb Fete. crcise despotic tyranny over the costlv- decked partners of their wealth and self- ish embraces. On the marriage of Lord Tennington with his first v^i^e, his adored Maria, he gave the most elegant rural holiday that had ever been before witnessed in Eng- land. Earth seemed ransacked of her choicest luxuries to regale the guests ; Arabia lavished her perfumes, every fo- reign rarity was presented in abundance^ and " Scarcely the Phoenix 'scaped.^ The evening concluded with a brilliant Fete Chamyjetre and ball ; and for a few years Lord Tennington was the happiest of men. He had not been long in possession of the Earldom of Eastwood, when he fan- cied he beheld a visible change in the manners of his lady towards him: But 21i LONDON CHARACTERS. An old Flame revived. we were never told on which side the change began. An Officer in the army of the most ele- gant manners, insinuating address, and beautiful person, visited frequently at the house of Lord Eastwood : it has indeed been rumoured that Lady Eastwood had received an early girlish impression in behalf of this gentleman before she saw her lord. Whether it was so, or no, she perhaps found it a task too difficult to forbear admiring a mind, that was in congeniality with her own, nor contrast- ing sentiment, polish, and every accom- plishment, with moroseness, suspicion, and more love for the whip, and the de- lights of the turf, than for her fine per- son. Nor were the pleasures of the bottle forgot among the delicate ones of Lord Eastwood, while discussing favourite to- pics of political opposition ; in which he HON. COUNTESS OF EASTWOOD. 215 ■V . . ' .■■■, His Fortune increases. felt offended if his lady did not bear a part. About this period, the relative of Lady Eastvood died, and bequeathed to her landed property well worth retaining ; and this happened about the time that Lord Eastwood, disgusted with some events which took place at Newmarket, had turned all his thoughts towards im- proving and extending his landed posses- sions. In the will of this relation it was po- sitively expressed, that the property left to Lady Eastwood was on this condition, that it should be bequeathed to her ex- isting husband, at the time of her demise, if she died before him. This was done the better to ensure it to their future chil- dren, for if she was left a widow, it was instanllyto devolve to them, and be equal- ly divided amongst them. 216 LONDON CHARACTERS. Her guilt. Lord Eastwood soon began to enter- tain very strong and very unequivocal suspicions of his wife's fidelity : he w^atcli- ed her himself, and set spies over her conduct ; and we are sorry to say^ that^ in effect she had been and continued for some time criminal and faithless ! In the mean time^ his Lordship had conceived an unbounded and sincere af- fection for a lady in a public line of life ; but who well deserved to obtain all that purity of love^ respect^ and esteem, which she has ever enjoyed ; and will, we hope, long enjoy through the whole course of her correct and exemplary life. Of this truly admirable woman we have never heard but one opinion. Lord Eastwood, even if he wished to corrupt her principles, or possess her per- son in any illicit way, knew the innate virtue and delicacy of her mind too well THE COUNTESS OF EASTWOOD. 217 Continued. even to attempt it ; never v^ould she see him but in the presence of her mother ; never trusted herself with him alone^ either in public or private. She has carefullj guarded her susceptible heart against the encroachments of love ; she could not but be grateful to Lord East- wood for continual acts of friendship and generosity bestowed on her^ and on every part of her family. She was sensible how great his assistance had been to her^ in making her rise to the summit of emi- nence in her profession ; and gratitude^ in so pure and excellent a bosom^ easily admitted its growing into a more tender passion ; but it was pure, as the seraphic sentiment of an angel ; nor entertained one thought of supplanting Lady East- wood, though she knew she had so fa- tally destroyed her own peace, as well as offended against her husband's honour. Lord Eastvv'ood had those proofs of his lady's criminalit}^, which he well yoL. I. L 218 LONDON CHARACTERS. A faux Pas leads to a Fall. knew in a court of justice would bring him ample retribution. But he was wealthy enough^ and some few in the worlds though they strongly suspected her ill conduct^, and others^ who dared not speak of it^ had conviction of it ; yet^ for very cogent reasons^ at least to him,, Lord Eastwood smothered his resent- ment, cast a cloud of obscurity over the business, and determined she should _yet remain in his house^ and bear her title xindisputed. Females of virtue, however, shunned her,; but she had all the spirit of fashion about her ; she had broken down the barriers of decorum ; and she revelled in pleasures little suited to her once delicate and elegant mind ; but which, while the intoxication of gralii^ed inciiuation, and the ardent affection of an enraptured lover, not long blessed with possession^ continued, she hushed every rising re-, flection^ and lulled with the poisonous THE COUNTESS OF EASTWOOD. 219 No Comfort found in a dissipated Life. Opiate of lawless love^ the monitor, con- science ! Her society consisted chiefly of officers; in whose company she would, with her cherished male friend, dine at a regi- mental mess, be the w orshipped idol of the table, and the lifeof the martial party: but mirth and wine soon began to lose their influence : and though she never w as seen intoxicated by the ]Mer, she could take her bottle of Madeira with the most indefatigable military votary of Bacchus. But the polished mind of an elegant female, who has sacrificed all her prin- ciples of duty, and ail her claims to re- spect, for love, and love only, cannot long lose its poignant reflections in those distracting pleasures, which add to in- stead of diminishing their baneful eiiects. The heart of a woman of Lady East- wood's natural delicacy, could not find gratification, consolation, or comfort^ in l2 220 LONDON CHARACTERS. •■■ - • . .1 ..... I . - Repentance. a life of noisy and thought-repelling' dis- sipation. Her mind became the prey of bitter- est anguish^ and of the most sincere and unafi^cted repentance^ which preyed^ and rapidly worked destruction, on her delicate frame : she disnussed her lover> sjnd solemnly Yowed never to see him more ! He loved her dearly, and fervently a« ever ; and this last laudable sacrifice she made to duty, it is thought, hastened her dissolution. Oh! sacred love, why is thy hymeneal torch only mutually kindled by humble cottagers ? while, for the high-born and wealthy thou tearest asunder the special licence^ asid 1 lughest, with demoniac triuuiph, at the ambition of parents, who sacrifice the unwilling fair to gold and title ! Lord Eastwood had lon-^r ceased to THE COUNTESS OF EASTWOOD. 221 Death is deaf to our Prayers. live with his Lady as an husband ; and nothing but the certain conviction that if he was divorced from her, her military favourite^ who still adored her^ would instantly wed her, (and he would then be her existing husband)^ prevented him from seeking a legal separation^ and for ever unitins: himself to that virtuous fe- male, whose mind and person had so completely enslaved him : but then, no land of his own was equal to that charm- ing little possession, which, if his Lady died, really and hondjide, his xvife, and not the wife of another, would become his own, to all intents and purposes : he could not think of giving it up ! The physicians of Lady Eastwood de- clared her in a deep and rapid decline ; and death, he flattered himself, would soon make both the land and his long-ad- mired lady his own. He, therefore, in- voked death as his best friend, not for l3 ^22 LONDON CHARACTERS. A great Example. hifuself, but for one \y1io had been once more than bis second self I Alas ! the Lady lived long ; much too Ioi]g for Lis Lordship ! her lingering life was spared to parifj her soul b j the most sincere and exemplar j penitence^ and which marked the last years and moments of this interesting woman : like a second Mary Magdalen^ '' she loved much, be- cause she had, like hefj much to be for- Lady Eastwood^ like Mary^ deplored lier faults at the feet of her Redeemer ; she trusted in his never-failiog mercy ; and the divine v.ho attended her in the awful period of her last moments, declar- ed lier death to be both edifying and happy ! Lord Eastwood had Icvcd his present Lady in the brightest season of 1 er THE COUNTESS OF EAST^VOOD. 223 A Coronet no pled.^e of Happiness. youth ; he found it now past : but yet he loved her with more sincerity than ever. Such is the triumph of true virtue. As soon as decency would permit^ he raised her to the rank of his Countess ; and this high situation her merits do ho- nour to. She has three lovely children by his X^ordship. Her situation is envied by many ; but^, alas ! the present Lady Eastwood is not happy. Surely the manners of Lord East- wood, in his domestic establishment, are not calculated to ensure the felicity of his wife : the unbounded gratitude Lady Eastwood feels for him, her know- ing no other attachment, wall never make her faithless. She suffers then the more in some respects ; for, though self-reproach is added to the guilty, yet, when a wite has been rendered so, chiefly through the ill-usage of an husband, she may, for l4 I 224 LONDON CiJARACTEUS. Conlusion. a short lime^ f<'el a temporary illusive kind of happiness; while the pangs of suffering virtue, and slighted conjugal tidelitjj silently corrode the afflicted heartj leaving it for ever cheerless, dead to every species of enjoyment, or only alive to agony. A MAN OF MYSTERY. ** Ad populum phaleras ; ego te intus et in cute novi." Pkrg. Jr ATiENCE, my dear Charlotte/* said the Marquis of Waltham, '' or I shall begin to suspect you have some secret in- terest in the person Avhose character I am about to unfold/' — '' Why^ you must allow/' replied the Duchess of Pyrmont^ *' that such a sermon as we heard this morning was calculated to awaken interest in any one ; and if I, thus sadly deprived of that sense which has so large an infiuence on the rest^ am desirous to learn some particulars of this mild and Christian orator, surely there is some excuse for Charlotte's more lively curiosity ; for I am told^, he is a person- able and a single man. It is certainly strange that we should have heard no- l5 226 " LONDON CHARACTERS A Conversation. ibing of him in the great world : his name and title are equally strange to me." '' In the gay "World y however/' sar- castically answered her son^ *^ your Grace would hear enough of him ; for he is there acknowledged as one of those political sensualists, who saint it in the pulpitj and aiu in the corner.'* ■''. We surely should be cautious^'* quickly interrupted Lady Charlotte/' be- fore we embrace a report which may in- jure the character of those, who must ever be more responsible for their actions than others ; being called upon^ by the sanctity of their profession, to exhibit, both by practice and precept, an example for edification : but this is a sad world, and I am rather inclined to believe, my dearbrother, that what you have heard of Sir William Featherington, prejudical to that purity of morals and honest inge- A MAN OF MYSTERY. 227 An Enquiry. nuousness, which should distinguish a miuister of the Gospel,, has originated in envy of his talents and worth. It is said;, jou kiioWj that our good qualities^ rather than our bad ones^ mark us out for persecution : whether this is really the case^ in the present instance, remains to be proved; and therefore, ray dear brother, spite of your bantering, I call upon you, in the name of the Duchess and myself, to give us a '^ plain unvarnished' history of this interesting theologian/* — '' Why, the varnish, my dear sister, is so very thick, 1 am told, and so neatly put on, that it requires a very skilful ana- lyzer to shewyou the real ground-uoork of this hodij compound ; but, in these days, when enlightening science rears her head, investigation is enabled to point out the truth ; and sometimes to strip the hypo- crite of his borrowed sanctity. As this is exactly the case, with respect to Sir William Featherington, I think, my dear l6 228 LONDON CHARACTERS. Discussion. Charlotte, I may promise you an un- varnished tale : you may wonder at it, but you shall hear nothing but v/hat is sanctioned by truth/' *' Dare I suppose that my puritanic sister, or that your Grace, had ever turned over thepagesof that ingenious, but rather licentious work, known by the title of "^^ The Monk," I could point out some traits in the character of his hero, which might serve as a specimen of the eccle- siastic in question ; and, by this means, save myself the pain of a farther delinea- tion ; for, where the delusion favours a generous prepossession, it is by no means a pleasant task to undeceive." " Well, well, go on, dear brother," somewhat hastily, answered Lady Char- lotte ; '*^ we will judge by fair evidence/' •^ Why, Charlotte,*' returned the Mar- quis, without appearing to notice the in- terruption ; ^^ never, till this moment^ A MAN OF MYSTERY. 229 Continued- did I suspect you of borrowing false co- lonics ! The yegeisihle tablet rouge^ to- gether with the liquid blooiHj fade into nothing' when compared with your pre- sent glow. To whom do you owe the mystic art ?** As Lady Charlotte did not think it ne- cessary to let her brother into this secret of her toilet^ we take upon us to inform our readers^ that this Lady had occasion- ally seen Sir William prior to his obtain- ing his title at the hospitable mansion of the Dowager Lady Clairville ; and the report made of him, by that aimiable character, (over whom he had acquired gieat ascendancy) falling in with the opi- nions she had herself formed of his ami- ability and worth, induced her to receive the elegant attentions he had occasion- ally paid her with more than common satisfaction. Lady Charlotte possessed an heart alive 2S0 LONDON CHARACTERS. Character of a Clergyman. to every generous priiiciile ; Ibcugli born to an exalted station^ ahd herself to a suitable fortune^, she was endowed with an unaspiring sweetness of disposition^ and a mind in which dwelt the purest sen- sibility : to be the Lady Bountiful of a parish was her highest ambition ; and to love virtue was inseparable from her nature. She believed Sir William Feathering- ton the most amiable of men ; and^ in a capital^ where much fashionable depravi- ty generally prevailed^ thought him wor- thy to be ranked with those orthodox di- vinesj whO;, by the severity of their man- nersj and purity of their principles, are best calculated to reform and instruct a wandering and deviating multitude. Such was the opinion formed by Lady Char- lotte Stanmore of Sir William Feather- ing ton, when she heard, with do small satisfaction, that he was appointed to the living of Bryarsfeldt, within two miles A MAN OF MYSTERY. 231 His Sermon. of Laurel Villa^ the summer residence of the Duchess of Pj^rmont ; and it was through the persuasions of the former that her Grace, accompanied bj Ladj Chark)tte, went to hear divine service at Bryarsfeldt, on Sir William's delivering his introduction sermon. Nothing could be more awakening, more impressive, or more orthodox, than his discourse : the whole sermon breathed the spirit of Christianity, set forth the mer- cies of DiviNE Love ; while the glowing richness of tlie language, occasionally in- ten;persed with mild and pathetic appeals, found their way to the hearts of his hear- ers, and impressed the congregation in favour of their new incumbent. As Sir Y/illiam, before the assumption of his title, was known in the metropolis only by a certain set, and as he had left indelible marks of his real character in a provincial town, where he formerly re- sided in his days of penury, it was only 232 LONDON CHARACTERS. His Origin aud Pedigree. since the event of a certain public fracas, wherein Sir William's specious gentle- ness gained both judge and jury in his favour^ that he had been heard of by the Marquis of Waltham ; but this unfor- tunate event brought him awkardly into notice : '' And who is this Sir William Featherington !" was reiterated by men of rank^ w ho had never before heard of such a title or such a person. No one could tell^ for a long time^ from what remote spot this Knight of the Holy Order had sprung ; nor was it until Sir William had posted it repeatedly in the Gazette, that '' The King had been pleas- ed to grant, &c. &c.'* that the perverse and obstinate multitude would allow the legality of his new dignity. So, how- ever, it was : and the Marquis began his narrative by assuring her Grace and Lady Charlotte, that Sir William Feathering- mgton was actually Sir William Feather- ington, though the title was so ancient that the best Antiquarians had been puz- A MAN OF MYSTERY. 233 Impartiality recomended. zled io trace if, being supposed to bi ar date from the Holy Wars, in the time of Richard the First ; and we, therefore^ may naturally enough presume, from the extreme sanctity of the preseiit Sir Wil- liam's life, that he is no less than a de- scendant of the celebrated Archbishop Walter of the above-mentioned aera." '' My dear brother, you promised an unvarnished tale remember,'' said Lady Charlotte ; '' so a truce to your witty sarcasms for the present, and give us a plain statement of vvell-auihenticated facts; for by those only should the aspersed be judged and condemned/* — "^ Bravissimo I most noble Charlotte,*' returned his lordship ; '' I hasten to obey you.- Lady Charlotte took her ivory-net- ting-needles, and ran her delicate fingers through the silver and gold mazes of a most fashionable purse she was finishing S34 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. for her brotberj whilst the Duchess, leaning on the arm of tlie Marquis's /?/?/- teuil a rEgijpticnne, listened with eager- ness to the following character. THE REVEREND SIR WM. FEATHERINGTON. *' Speak of me as I am : nothing extenuate, *' Nor set down aught in mahce SwAKESf- Xhis paragon of plausibility and meek- ness, of purity and principle^ is the ve- riest hypocrite that walks the earth : he is well- versed in assimilation and dissi- mulation ; and ail his apparent qualities of virtue, bt^nevolence^ gentleness, and forbearance, are but a cover for his vices. By the female sex he should be held in abhorrence : for he is to them a greater foe than the most bare-faced libertine: neither old nor young women escape his aim, where either passion or interest di- rect his motive. He possesses such a specious and va- 236 LONDON charactehs. Playing at hide-ar.d-seek. ried suavity^ and cuits^ with such a mas- terly subtlety^ his conversation and man- ners to those persons he wishes to im- press in his favour, that there are sam- ples of old maids and widows,, wives and virgins, yAio have been, in a great de- gree, captivated with his apparent ami- ability, and who have unanimously de- clared Sir William Featherington a most miid^ gentlemanly, and worthy man. Amongst the male sex he is not so much to be feared as shunned ; for there is in his conduct, establishment, and de- portment, such an impenetrable mystery, as must ever lead to distrust and suspi- cion. Sometimes he is seen with a well- appointed equipage, house^ and servants, with other convenient appendages : in the space of a few weeks, he is met on an old broken-winded horse, and found in a common lodging in some obscure street; and, in a little time, he is walking on foot, without one seven-shilling-picceto REV. Sill WM. FEATHERINGTON. 237 Ouilines of a Picture. I , ,.- ■ ■ ■■■■:,- -A rub against another : running about to get a bill donCj or playing at hide-and- seek, for fear of being di shed-up / Shortly after he is heard of in a shop, asking for letters, directed in a fictitious name, and producing a note of consider- able amount in order to discharge a small debt of two pounds. It is equally mys- terious by what means he has obtained his preferment; for before he was pre- sented with the living of Bryarsfeldt^ he scarce ever visited his parishioners at Wingfield and Der water j but was a con- stant resident in the metropolis^ where he shone '' thegayest of the gay !" sporting it J alternately^ with that titled demirep^ Lady Backswarden, or joining the easy parties of ci-devant mistresses; paying his court to the principled old, and his addresses to the unsuspecting young; en- deavouring, by a shew of generous sym- pathy, to seduce the unfortunate wife ; indulging irregular and promiscuous in- clinations, and treating with harsh and ^2SS LONDON CHARACTERS. The Portrait continuisd. cruel indignity the unfortunate who held the distinguished place of his private or household mistress. Such are the outlines of the picture ! and veri citv may pledge herself of its be- ing a faithful representation. We could wish, for the honour of human nature, that the portrait were exaggerated^ for certainly there seems not a little of the demon in the present sketch ; but this is an unprejudiced, and we are sorry to add, a moderate statement: to descend to some particulars would bring Sir William low indeed ! yet, to withhold all, is to sufi'er the just and amiable to be deluded by a specious exterior — they who are unwil- ling, from their ov/n purity of mind, to admit the possibility, that a character like Sir William Featherington's can be in existence. Rank and fortune, the protectors of ex- alted relatives, happily exclude those w ho REV. SIRWM. FEATIIERINGTON. 239 An unfortunate Female. move in the very high spheres of no- ble lifi', from the association^ as well as from the danger^ of such a character as is here pourtrayed ; yet, those exalted females of virtuous character^ Avho feel a generous reluctance to admit a belief of such worthlessoess in the male sex, will not forget to feel for those unfortunate objects of their own, \Yho have, by such characters as Sir William Featherington, been seduced from the paths of rectitude, and beeti led, even bj their love of virtue, to the brink of ruin. We shun, with dis- gust, the professed reprobate ; but, can innocence shield itself against the sinner in the garb of the saint ? When first Sir William visited at the Dowager Lady Clairville's, there was a female, svhose misfortunes, integrity, and strength of mind, had created an inte- rest, and secured her an asylum under the roof of this hospitable and benevolent Lady, who had had some knowledge of 240 LONDON CHARACTERS. Base and contemptible Conduct. her in her brighter days : this ill-fated fair^ whose history of domestic sorrows would form a most pathetic and instruc- tive lesson^ had the misfortune to possess such personal qualifications as attracted the particular notice of SirWiiliam Fea- therington. A combination of cruel circumstances had deprived her, at that time^ of legal protection, and her scanty income^ by no means answering the claims of that gen- teel mediocrity to which she had been accustomed^ SirWiiliam thought her a fair subject of pursuit, and flattered him- self with the prospect of an easy conquest: but the Lady possessed an high sense of female honour^ together wilh a frank and discerning mind ; and Sir William was obliged to ply all his artillery of gentle oilices, sympathizing^ and amiability, to make any impression on an heart, at that time, mourning over its departed happi* ness. At length, however, his delicate SIR WILLIAM FEATHERINGTON. 241 Sunday Erening Readings. attentions, the interest and concern he professed to take in her situation, and the belief she entertained of the probity and benevolence of his disposition, induced her to acknowledge him as one of her warmest friends. We should offend the Lady, who is tlie subject of this anecdote, w ere we to give the sequel of Sir William's base and con- temptible conduct towards her; and ab- horrence would be excited in the reader, were we to offer a progressive detail of his dastardly and insidious proceedings in this affair : we will, therefore, only re- mark, that this circumstance, with the consequence it gave him to be admitted en famille in Lady Clairville's society, induced him to make a point of securing, by his speciousness, plausibility, and at- tentions, the good opinion of that Lady, As to those chronicles of scandal Lady Turnabout and her malicious Cousin Snargate, they will seize on any thhig VOL. I. M 242 LONDON CHARACTERS. Sunday Evening Readings that is gilded with a title ; and innriy we should conceive, must be so xare a com- modity with them, that they will natu. rally wish to retain him, in any shape, purely for the sake of novelty ! There are women, who, in preserving the virtue of chastity, lose almost every other ; and if such women be of an ordi- nary mould, which is commonly the case, they have, in fact, no virtue at all !* for • The true meaning of the word virtue is not what it is generally taken to be. Virtue is a struggle of our reason against the bent of inclinations, or the im- pe/w^ of passions } novirtue yv\ihow\. temptation: and my old Aunt, who from her infancy has be-en the most curious pattern of ugliness, and has added to this forbidding and repulsive power the crabbiest temper in the world, you may call virtuous, if vou please, but I never can think her soj her severity towards the innocent wantonness of one of my sisleis, exemplifies forcibly what has been said above. A woman who has struggled against the danger, and with difficulty escaped the fangs, of seduction, is natu'-ally prone to indulgence and forgiveness " Non ignara malimiseris succurrerc disco/' ViRyiL. SIR. WILLIAM FEATHERINGTON. 243 and Pastimes. i» ■ ■ ■ 1 ■ ■ where is the merit of preserving a trea- sure which no one seeks to wrest from us ? N0W5 with respect to the moral widow, Ladj Duffledown, whom we have always heard mentioned as an inoffensive good kind of woman, how she could be codified by the incongruous medley exhi- bited at Sir William's Sunday Evening Readings^ we are somewhat at a loss to conceive : but we conclude her Lady- ship only staid the plai/ ! which was ge- nerally a sentimental comedy (alias a ser- mon) of Sir William's own composition ; and which he read aloud for the amuse* ment and instruction of his assembled friends. When this discourse was con- cluded, the guests were offered tea and coffee ; and, after about an hour's cheer- ful conversation, the more pure and so- ber of the party retired ; and amidst those of course was numbered the widow Duf- fledown : then commenced the farce, in which every one present took apart ; and Sir William's list of amusements exceed- ed, ia variety and taste, that of any 244 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. theatre in the metropolis. There were. What's my thought like ? Cross Pur- poses, Christmas Gambols, and Misletoe Forfeits ; with imitations of Mr. Punch and his famil}^, by the ingenious Miss Drogmore : in short, the games of feud- al times united with modern manners to heighten the pleasures of the charming scene ! After the owners of forfeits had paid the customary fines of kissing through the rails of the chairs, and other ridiculous sports, the whole ended with a cold collation, where the rosy god lent his aid: and thus was concluded Sunday night, and commenced Monday morning; for frequently, before Sir Wil- liam's doors were closed on all his guests, " the dial pointed" haU past four o'clock, and the sonorous voice of the drowsy watchman sounded the alarm to the jo- cund party. Such were the Sunday even- ing parties of Sir William Featherington, which, if not exactly formed to edify, will at least instruct. OCCASIONAL REMARKS, WITH A CONTINUATION OF SIR WILLIAM FEATHERINGTON'S CHARACTER. '' DicitCj PontificeS; in Sacro quid facit Aurum ?" Pers. The Marquis of V/altham^ after giving the above sketch, in his own gay, sar- castic manner, addressing himself to his sister, said, '* Now, my dear Charlotte, be content to profit by the scrutiny of your brother ; our sex gives us oppor- tunity for a more enlaro:ed information of mankind than your's ; — where deli- cacy precludes female investigation, our sex penetrate without opprobrium. Lady Charlotte was disappointed m the favourable opinion she had formed, and in that momentary predilection which had taken place in her heart; her humid eyes met those of her brother : she m3 246 LONDON CHARACTERS. Reflections. pressed his hand between both her's ; she did not speak^ but the action ^vas elo- quent ; and the Duchess relieved her, by saying, '' upon my word, my dear Philip, I feel greatly obliged by your explana- tion ; which has discovered to me the great impropriety of admitting, as a guest, so dangerous, though insignificant, a being : I was, equally with Charlotte, prepossessed in his favour, and I had built not a little on his formini* an aa'ree- able acquisition to our evening coteries j but now, all advances on his part, towards an intimacy, must be discouraged, and indeed rejected on our's." *' Certain- ly," said Lady Charlotte, '' for I will not, for a moment, doubt my brother's information, since he has pledged his veracity A>r its authenticity; and, with me, I thank God, it has hitherto been sufficient to be shewn worttilessness, and to shun it : yet I cannot help thinking it strange, that a character, which with all its subtlety, must, n\ a great degree. 247 Continued. have become notorious^ should be received into polished and respectable circles ! No one can dispute either the virtue or nobilitv of the Dow ager Ladj CIair\ ille j and about eight months since, her Lady- ship spoke of Sir William Feathering-ton, to mCj in the highest terms : and does he not visit at the two maiden cousins, I-'^^J Turnabout and Miss Snargate ? and as to the moral widow. Lady Dudledown, she declares him a pattern of piety and prudence ; and acknowledges openly, that she has been much edified by his Sunday evening parties. What, there- fore, have we to say ?" '' Pray Philip,*' said the Duchess, '' Where have you gathered all these anecdotes ? for upon my word, the sub- jects and extent of your knowledge both amuse and surprise me !" '' From no less a source, my dear Duchess, than the evidence of my own ocular powers;'* gaily ansv^cred his Lordship. '' You M 4 248 LONDON CHARACTERS. Variety of Opinions \vcll knovv^ that, on some occasions^ some persons^ who wish to have their rooms filled at any rate, are accustomed to send cartes-blanches to their several friends : now^ this fashion^ was practised bj the Marchioness of Railton, the sister of the impoverished and profligate Lady Bucks- warden^ Sir William's friend and puffer. Now, as this said Marchioness really gives tolerable concerts and pleasant ^etits soupers, I took the arm of Charles IMordaunt, one evening, intending to amuse myself at one of her parties for half an hour : there I met, and ^ as ac- tually introduced to, the celestial Sir William Feather ington, by the Mar- chioness, who was eloquent in his praises; which were echoed, with increased warmth, by her sister, the Lady Bucks- warden. '' No one, I believe,'* said the Marchioness, *' ever blended the duties of his profession, with the urbanity and grac3 of polished life, like Sir William Featherington ! " SIR I^^illiam's character. 249 concerning Sunday Evening; Parties. She then spoke of the propriety of his Sunday evening parties ; and offered me a seat in her barouche on the next Sabbath. " The J are the pleasantest things in the world/' said the Lady Buckswarden, '' and quite uniques, I assure you, my Lord Marquis ; you will be really much amused.'' As I certainly did imagine they would bcj at least, diverting, I determined to accept the invitation offered me by the Marchioness. I accordingly accompa- nied her, on the following Sunday, to the sanctuary of Sir William ; and the result of my observations are given in the detail before you. Though the Marchioness did not quit the party immediately after coffee, yet she did not stay during the whole of the farce ; but I, who was led there chiefly by curiosity, was resolved to sit it out ; and as I joined in the Christmas games, m5 250 LONDON CHARACTERS. Continued. ^nd took care to have plenty of forfeits, I received for my pains several salutes from lips not uninviting, and from fe* males not unwilling ! Then rolled I home, smiling at the oddity of the business, and blessing myself, that no female relatives of mine were to be found edifying at Sir William's Sunday Evening Parties ! Now, will you Charlotte, that I close my narrative ? . . . For if not, I give you warning, what I shall further relate is jiot one particle more to the credit of Sir William than the statement already given: and, indeed, as some portion of the sequel is by no means fit for the fe- male ear, I feel rather inclined to shut the book /** ''No, dear Brother," replied Lady Charlotte, ''rather let us turn over a few more pages, with the hope of finding some good passages, torecompence us for the disagreeable ones already encountered SIR William's character. 251 The Way to get a Living. hy listening to so painful and disgusting a detail \" '' Did you ever hear^ who the old lady waSj that is reported to have presented him with one of her livings }** '' No/' replied his Lordship, " but I have heard of an Old Maid, out of whom (driven by pecuniary embarrassment) Sir William sought to make a living ! I think you told me^ you once saw this an- tique at the Dowager Lady Clairville's !" *' I do not, now^ recollect the circum- stance/' said Lady Charlotte. '' Bless me !" continued the Marquis, '' Surely you have not forgotten your coming home one morning last winter, and telling the Duchess you had been taking lessons of economy ; learning how to travel without incurring the expence of stop- ping at inns ; and how to keep servants without feeding them t*' M 6 252 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Empress of the Birch. '' Oh !" said Lady Charlotte, laugh- ing", " You mean Miss Deborah Darn- well, of Lovedale Cottage !** " To be sure I do,'* replied her brother. *' Some few years since, this lady was supreme Empress of the hirch ; but a distant re- lation of considerable property, and a great admirer of Miss Deborah^s econo- my and prudence, determined to leave it where there was no danger of its being squandered on the luxuries of the table, reduced by acts of benevolence, or an ostentatious display of charity ; therefore he bequeathed to his relative. Miss De- borah Darnwell, an handsome independ- ance ; upon which she dismissed her young brood, collected together the sums due to her, set up her carriage, and built Lovedale Cottage. She turned her steel collars into scrapers for her doors, her leather back-bracer*s into harnesses, har stocks into hayracks, and kept her birches to light the fires. And now^, you often see her, with a poor woe-begone coach- SIR William's character. 2o3 Economy in high Life. man, driving round to the cheap shops in the great city, in order to buy bar- gains So remarkable is she for this last- mentioned amusement, that her friends observe^ when a shop advertises to be selling off, at prime cost, they generally look for Miss Deborah's bust as a surer sign of a profitable market, than the Three Pigeons or the Bee-hive, &c. Then, when she has fagged out her coach- man, her horses, and herself, she stops to refresh at the table of her friends ; and while she is regaling on a sumptuous de- jeuiiS a la fourclutte, at the hospitable Lady Clairville's, her coachman either grumbles on his box, or feasts in the kitchen, at the expence of this generous lady. After the cravings of nature are satis- fied in the mistress and her servant, she commands to be driven home ; but just stops about two miles from town, to give the poor beasts some water ! She reaches 254 LONDON CHARACTERS. ■'* The Art of having a Dinner. Lovedale Cottage about six in the even- ing ; it is too late then to order diimer ; and she did not think of staying so long. '' What have jou done^ Martha ?" she says to the cook. Martha sullenly answers^ " Ma*am we eat the bit of cold muUon ; to be sure it wasn't very sweet ! but when one. is hungry one may swallow a rat for that matter.'* Miss Deborah never allowed herself to appear angry ; on these occasions she felt that she had saved a dinner, and that made her the more self-satisfied and complacent: so making no other reply, than, '^We will have an early cup of tea/' she usually withdrew to her little closet, and settled her accounts of the day.'* ^' Upon my word, my dear Philip,'* said the Duchess, '' You are a perfect SIR William's character. 255 Speculation. master of the graphic art ; what would become of me^ without the help of jour entertaining powers ? But tells us^ was this lad J, who cut so close, ever thought of for a wife by Sir William Feather- ington ? Such an ill-associated union could but have produced dissonance and discord !" " Whj, at the timeSir William pursued this magnanimous design, his affairs were desperate; and matrimony, ladies, at best is but an adventurous game ; doubtless^ Sir William Featherington had thought^ that of two evils before us our wisest alternative is to chuse the least : he also called in his recollection to his aid^ and perfectly agreed with the Poet, who says^ *' The joys of wedlock with its woes we'll mix; *« Tis best repenting in a coach-and-six.*' But all the powers of SirWilliam prov- ed abortive. The chaste virgin regarded 256 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Dialogue. not his protestations ; she was a sample of pure and spotless adamant: she ru- minated on her pillow at night — the pocket which contained her purse and her banker's book obtruded itself to her ear — she gently removed its station — Sir Wil- liam instantly associated in her mind — '' If I marry him/' she cried, '' ye will be no longer mine ; another power ■will, perhaps, lord it over us, and I who know your value so well, shall I gi\c you a new master ? Shall any other than myself claim a right to Lovedale Cot- tage ?" She raised herself suddenly from her couch, snatched her pocket from the pillow, tucked it tight under the bolster, laid her head on the sacred deposit ; and that action was the death-blow to the hopes of Sir William Featherington ! Three days afterwards she sent him an UNEQUIVOCAL REFUSAL This circumstance so completely dis- SIR William's character. 257 The Refusal. appointed and exasperated the titled di- vine, that he forgot his usual mild sapi- ence, and broke out into most unbecom- ing invectives against all old maids ; he marked with epithets most cpprobrious Miss Deborah Darnwell, whose callous obduracy had, at her time of life, with her scanty and withered churms, caused her to refuse the honour Sir William in- tended her, of becoming the protector of her person and fortune ! In extenu- ation, however, of Miss Deborah^s want of sensibility to the happiness offered her in an union with Sir William, and in be- half of her prudence, I must inform you, that there were other co-operating cir- cumstances, which had their weight in determining her refusal. Some persons urged by a malicious, or equally sinister, motive, had set forth the character of Sir William to the lad\ in a most despicable point of view ; Lad re- presented him as au unprincipled and dis- 258 L0NDON CHARACTE|iS. The Works of Caiurnny. tressed man, who was merely seeking: to better his fortune by an alliaiioe, which offered to extricate himfrom his pecuniary embarrassments. This report opened Mis§ Deborah's eyes more widely to the contemplation of Sir William's motives. He had, it is true, succeeded in persuading her to believe, that the scandalous information originated from the unfortunate prepossession of the lady, at that time the guest of Lady Clairville ; and who, having mistaken his, compassionate attentions for more ten- der motives, was wounded at the pro- spect of his union with Miss Deborah ; and had taken the means of traducing Sir William's character, in order to dis- solve the approaching connexion. And here let me observe to you, ladies, that there is scarce any act, which has dis- graced the character of Sir William Fea- therington, as a man and a gentleman, more than the baseness of his conduct in SIR William's character. 259 The innocent suffers. this particular instance. For though he might have traced the source of the ca- lumny spread against him, to the con- cern and indignation of an offended mis- tress, or some other cause more remote ; vet it flattered his vanity, and suited his purpose to feign a belief, that the slan- derous accusation owed its origin to the wounded feelings and jealous emotions of Lady Clairville's guest. He, therefore, not only caused the amiable Dowager to believe Mrs. Grafton the author, but used his influence with that dignified Lady to the prejudice of the suffering and much-injured female then beneath her roof; and his specious and invidious designs so far succeeded, as not only to in- duce Lady Clairville to give some credit to his hints and assertions, but occasioned it to be universally believed by several of Mrs. Grafton's friends : and this already deeply aiilicted woman had to unite to the keenest domestic troubles, that of see- ing herself received with estranged and ^60 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Confiilence. unaccountable coldness by friends whom she loved, and whose attention and kind- ness had been her chief solace during the scene of her sorrows. *' I did not think/' continued the Mar- quis, '* when I commenced the narrative of this man/ to have been led so far ; he has occupied too much of our attention : but as I am fully acquainted with every circumstance of this last-mentioned in- cident^ I cannot smother my abhorrence, nor help making you acquainted with its enormity. '' In mentioning Mrs. Grafton's namC;, I have not only exceeded my first intention, but have also infringed on a promise given to that lateresting woman. I know her well, and frequently meet and converse with her at the houses of several families of rank and respectability. In the course of our acquaintance she was induced from some circumstances which arose one even- SIR William's charactei?. 2GI Continued. ing in her presence^ relafive to the con- duct of Sir William Featherington, to give me soon after a plain statement of the whole affair : she shewed me the copies of several letters, which she had addressed to him on the subject of his vile and ungenerous conduct ; but to neither of which could the guiltj^ culprit return an answer. I have not given every circumstance of this iniquitous affair ; and, as I before observed, there are other anecdotes in my possession, with which I would not offend the ears of my mother and sister. Suf- fice it, therefore, that, in the character before you, you have by no means an exag- gerated account ; and I conclude my his- tory with this wish, that the good fortune which has given to Sir William so lucra- tive a benefice as that of Bryarsfeldt, may so operate on his mind, as to occa- sion a general reformation in his conduct; and that, at some subsequent period^ 262 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. Charlotte shall be enabled to pen the 5^- quel of Sir William's history, under the promising title of '' The Contrite Vr- cAH ; or^ Virtue Triumphant,'* The Duchess and Lady Charlotte join- ed, cordially, in the charitable wish of the Marquis ; who, after receiving their thanks for the information and amusement be had afforded them, wished them a good night, promising at their next readings to give them an instance of the force of female ambition. MRS. PERCIVAL, Sunt Dclicta tamen quibus ignovissc velimus." HoR. Art. Poet. 1 HIS lady is a fortunate heroine of the drama, who, by an easy and affluent mar- riage, has been enabled to quit her public profession, and live in all the comforts of independent wealth. Her countenance was handsome, and her fine form might defy all the scrutiny and miiiute investigations of tlie statuary ; who could not forbear to confess, that it came the nearest in size, proportion, and dimensions, to the famed Venus of Medicis, formerly the pride of the Floren- tine Gallery, as now of the Napoleon. Like that captivating statue, the figure of Mrs: Percival, then Miss Smyfhe, was more inclined to the petite, than the ma- 264 LONDON CHARACTERS. Deseription of her Person. jestic:, and yet, though so truly feminine, she made the most attractive appearance in the masculine habit than was ever wit- nessed before, or since, on the stage. She had the most important requisites for this attire: beautiful feet, well-turned ancles, and legs of the finest symmetry. Nature gave her such endowments, both in per- son and abilities, that she was expected to become the first in her profession : but she was in many respects the slave to art. Had she implicitly followed the steps of her liberal benefactress, who had so am- ply endowed her, she would have been a chaste, elegant, and classical actress ; but being intoxicated with the applause her vocal powers produced, and which she once unfortunately overheard compared to those of the celebrated Miss Catley's, she now determined to make that lady the finished model of her imitation. There are certain witcheries about one person, which captivate the eenses irre- MRS. PERCiVAL. 26b Her Abilities examined. sistibly, in spite of reason, against all love of decorunij all obtruding ideas of delicacy or elegance; while practised by another they would create disgust : what is this to be attributed to, but those fine touches of genuine nature, which speak imperiously to the heart ! — Ann Catley was only the daughter of a poor publican ; she had no cultivation except that a music and singing-master gave her, to improve the natural warbiings of her nightingale voice : Miss S my the was accomplished ; possessed a genteel as well as lovely coun- tenance ; she was not low in birth ; in- deed, we are told, she endeavoured to con* vince the world that she was descended from a nobleman, famous asv/ell for hiss high descent as for his superior literary talents j but we believe it would not do. Miss Smythe, by her imitations of one who had so long and so justly been the favourite of the town, pleased the indis- VOL. I. N 266 LONDON CHARACTERS. She changes her Manner. criminating multitude : but the nice- judging critic, and delicate auditor, per- ceived thatj presuming on the indulgence of a crowded house. Miss Smjthe was getting bold and vulgar. When first she played Euphrosjne, in Milton's Comus, she had the true idea of the character ; agile, various, playful, not languishingly but gaily voluptuous ; or, as the French express it, truly folatre : she gave to the charmed imagination the most accurate semblance oi this personi- fication of youthful and frolic mirth. When she adopted Miss Catley'sEuphro- syne, she depicted the sailor's girl, danc- ing a mock hornpipe, in a public-house : her song of, " All I ask of mortal man, " Is to love me while he can." was given with nods, winks, and leers, which belong to the frailest of the frail MRS. PERCIVAL. 26t Her Talent for the Dance. sisterhood only ; and which^ if the im- mortal bard who penned the beautiful masque could be restored to sight and life, and see his character of elegant mirth thus cruelly torn to pieces^ he \Aould be compelled to drive the represen- tative, notwithstanding her youth, sex, and beauty, from off the stage, and wish himself blind again. This character was not only mistaken by Mrs. Percival, but it is too gener- ally so. The Lady whom Comus wishes to delude, is of the most refined and consummate virtue; vice then must be represented to her under its most alluring, most elegant, and delicate forms ; and Euphrosyne must not appear as if she received her education from Drury-lane or Portsmouth Point. However, Mrs. Percival's character i? luiimpeachable in point of chastity ; but she was possessed of a vanity and ambi- k2 26S LONDON CHARACTERS. Affectation. tion not easily bounded ; the former dis- played itself in every refined coquetry in the decoration of her personal charms; but she had one defect in her outward adorning, which^ whenever smd by who ^ ever adopted, we always think bespeaks not only a vulgar, but, in some degree, indelicate mind j which is that of drawing the eye to the leg by fanciful and studied ornaments. Miss Smythe was a fine dancer ; and we allow her on those occasions, especially on a benefit night, the display of so beau- tiful an ancle, enveloped in pink silk stock- ings, profusely spaogled with silver. But we are assured, that the same shining appenda|> 3 have graced her supporters in the promenades of Keiisiiigton Gardens and St. James's Park. T is decoration, even on the boards, savours more of St. Bartholemew Fair, and the player, mak- ing one of a company of strollers, tijan of ihe genteel and elegant actress, belonging MRS. PERGIVAL. 269 Her Plan for a Life-establishment. to one of those two theatres, ^vhGse cor- rectness was unrivalled in the whole civiliz- ed world : but in public walks, when in the character of a private gentlewoman^ such gaudy ornaments are unpardonable. Mrs. Percival was never a woman of amorous intrigue ; but she knew how to Uy hci' plans for her future establish- ment in life ; she found she had captivated the heart of Mr. Percival, a gentleman of large fortune ; and she succeeded in en- tirely drawing away his affections from an accomplished lad}^, to whom he was solemnly, and almost irrevocably, engag- ed, in an honourable way. In Miss Rawlins, the above lady, she had a formidable rival to deal with : the endowments of her mind, and her literary talents, had rendered her justly cele- brated. She was, like Miss Smythe, ungifted n3 270 LONDON CHARACTERS. Her Rival. bj fortune^, and very much her inferior in personal attractions; but she was not unpleasing : perfectly the gentlewoman in her appearance and mimiers, and of aa irreproachable character^ she did no discredit to Mr. PercivaPs choice, who had long been, in outward semblance, sin- cerely attached to her, till the fascinating JMiss Smythe made him her captive. iMr. Percival had, however, carried matters so far with Miss Rawlins, that she had frequent letters in her possession, under his hand, with earnest and suppli- cating entreaties for her to name the happy day when he might make her, by marriage, his own, for life : indeed, one letter, he would now have given worlds he had never written ; which proved, that through his, and her brother's per- suasions, she had modestly, though willingly, granted her consent to be weddedto him, on such a day that he had specified 5 and his letter, in consequence^ MRS. PERCIVAL. 271 A Brother's Duty. breathed all the rapture which an ardent lover might be supposed to experience when arrived at the summit of his wishes. The brother of Miss Rawlins was a clergyman ; a man of high spirit, ready to resent the smallest neglect shewn to his sister, and to come forward and support her fair fame^ and to chastise whoever should dare to sully it ; such is a bro- ther's duty ; and we heartily wish that there were a few more (who hold this sa- cred relationship) of the Reverend Mr. Rawlin's description. After the consent of Miss Rawlins was obtained;, Mr . Rawlins fancied heperceived an apparent coldness in MnPercivaPs be- haviour : his frequent absences^ on pretence of urgent business^ were at first admitted as apologies ; but when this affectionate brother saw anxiety painted onthecounte- tenanceof hissister^ at the long detention N 4 273 LONDON CHARACTERS. She triumphs over her. of Mr. Percival from her residence^ he began to be alarmed ; yet he commanded his feelings^ fearful of adding to the mental pain which was consuming his beloved sister. [n the mean time Miss Sm} the triumph- ed over the enslaved heart of Mr. Perci- val : he braved every thing — he forgot vM his former engagements to Miss Raw- li !s — all fear of her brother sunk under the victorious pow er of conquering love —and he was publicly married to the idol of his changed aifections. It is useless, as well as impossible, to pourtyay the feelings of Miss Rawlins : her brother determined on making her perjured lover suffer, in some degree, for the outrage committed against his sis(er's peace of mind. Miss Rawlins is a woman of rather masculine understanding, and possessed MRS. PERCIVAL. 273 She is a Favourite with every one. of that kind of spirit which bjniany is styledj and not quitv^ inaptly, self-ap^ plausc ! These are qualifications which belong more to the head than the hearty and seldom impart mnch warmth to the latter. She, therefore^ l)ridled the im- petuositj of her feelings bjtheaid of cool philosophy, and endeavoured to root from her mind all the remains of aftection she mi^ht have formerly had for Mr. Per- cival. She willingly^ then, acceded to her brother's proposal to sue her inconstant lover for a breach of promise of mar- riage. He was adjudged guilty, nem, con, and Miss Rawlins obtained from him an handsome settlement, whereby she was enabled to live in genteel style, keep her footman, &c ; and by her own correct con- duct and behaviour, by her literary ta- tents, and the respectability of her family^ she ensured to herself that importance in n5 2T4f LONDON CHARACTERS. She is a Favourite with every one. society^ which made her acquaintance re- garded as an honourable acquisition. Her happy and fortunate rival, raised from the state of life she had followed for support to be the wife of a gentleman of fortune, did not meet, at first, with quite the flattering countenance she expected : she was regarded, somewhat obliquely, as an artful supplanter, in spite of her beauty and attractions. Fascinatiiig as she already was in her manners, she found, however, she must change her plan of behaviour : she was no longer, then, the gay, the love-inspiring, theatrical adept ; but she adopted a de- meanour chastely insinuating, and be- coming the youthful matron. Miss Raw- lins began to lose, daily, in a great de- gree, her interest ; her story was no longer new : Mrs, Percival knew how to be ever so ! She could amuse and de- light the gay 5 she was mildly sweet and MRS. PERCIVAL. S75 Her Rival is forgotten. gentle with the grave ; and with the valiant sons of Mars' she couid sing all the airs in the Camp, divert them^ and excite their wonder and admiration, by the display of those military manoeuvres, which in her famous character of NancV;, in that entertainment, she had been so well-instructed to perform. Her late rival was laughed at in her presence, stigma- tized with the appellation of a disap- pointed old maid, and all the gentlemen unanimously declared, that they should have acted the same as Mr. Percival, had they been so happy as to have been in his place. Miss Rawlins is still in a state of celi- bacy, and we believe is likely to remain so : the settlement made her by Mr. Percival being for her life^ she yet re- tains it. Mrs, Percival is a widow ; her ambi- tion still predominates : and^ at thistime^ her visionary fabrics are raised high Ti 6 276 LONDON CHARACTERS. A distant View of a Coronet. indeed ! A ducaj coironet swims before her eyes ! She is resolved, at any rate, to try to grasp it ; and she builds her hopes on that probability, which the season of dotage and decaying intellect afford to her view. For this grand purpose she has taken up her residence very near the dwelling of an amorous old Duke, who was always a great admirer of her theatrical talents^ and who has often declared, in her hear- ing, th.^t she was the finest made woman he ever beheld: and who that knows his Grace can doubt his experience, or his connoisseurship, of all the contours of feminine beauty, Mrs. Percival is frequent in her atten- tions and visits to the Duke, on the slightest of those indispositions which his Grace so frequently experiences : she knows him to be possessed of a grateful and a generous mind ; and as she is still MRS. PERCIVAL. 277 Conclusion. handsome^ still captivating^^ and her conduct strictly chaste (closely copying that of Madame de Maintenon towards Louis XI V.J who alwa\s sent him away pleased, but never satisfied), Mrs. Per- cival still cherishes the illusion of being;, one davj a Duchess ; an illusion which, we think J and the Duke's relations Jw2)e and trust, will never be verified. ♦ She, at all the periods of her life, and even now, had powerful charms to pieasC;, as well in private company as in public j her smile is bewitching, her voice, in conversation, sonorous without argtite?iesSf and she invariably brings to the mind the sweet girl of the poet ; Dulce ridentem Lalagenamabo Dulce loquentem. Hor. Car. L Od. 22. GEORGE MEADOWES, ESQ. ** Vehement in uiramque partem es nimis." TeRo 1 HIS Gentleman had the misfortune of having one of the most indulgent fathers* who suffered his son to launch into every species of extravagance to which he might be prompted either by caprice or inclination. At the age of three-and-twenty he was sent to study the law at Gray*s-Iun ; but though he had there very good chambers, he put his father to the expence of taking for him elegant private lodgings in Bed- ford-Row : while the old gentleman^ who was immensely rich^ honoured all his extravagant bills upon him, and let hira want for no one luxury of life ; not re- flecting that he had three young daugh^ ters, whose fortunes, by this prodigal partiality, he was most considerably in* juring. 280 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Sketch. Opposite to the lodgings of yoiing Mcadowes lived a beautiful servant girl : her father, a country shop- keeper, had failed, and taken it so much to heart, that he fell sic^ 3|nd died. The rich inliabitaiits of the vil- lage made a collection for the mo- ther, and set her up again in a little shop; but her daughter^ her '^ blue-eyed Patty," obtained the place of upper housemaid to a lady who lived in Lon- don, and whose sister had been, since her father's deaths her mother's best friend. Nothing eould surpass the perfect beauty of this young* creature : she had not only the most lovely complexion in the worlds with regular features, but the sweetness and sensibility of lier coun- tenance were irresistible, w bile her form had every charm of grace and symmetry. The lady^ her mistress^ was very anx- GEORGE MEADOWES, ESQ. 281 The Danger of keeping a handsome Maid, ious and careful about this lovely ser- vant ; she repented having brought her into the house : her husband was a, man of an amorous completions and very handsome; and he would roll his large black eyesj with much meaning expres- sion^ over the face and form of tlie blush- ing Patty as she waited at table : while his wife, (whether from jealousy, or any oilier cause, thougli she gave her hand- some wages, made her many pretty pre- sents, and nursed her like a tender mo- ther, if she was sick,) made the poor girl little better than an household drudge; for, notwithstanding she was called upper-housemaid, and paid ac- cordingly, she had to do every tiling in common with the lowest servant ; to clean the street door, open and close the parlour outside shutters, and many such kind of offices. ^yhilc her well-tunicd arms have been trundling a mop, or fastening back the 282 LONDON CHARACTERS. Love makes him neglect the Law. sliutterSj Young Meadowes has been gaz- ing at his windows*^ and^ unused to con- trol any one inclination, he felt assured that nothing but the possession of his adored Patty could ever restore him to any prospect of happiness. His cham- bers were given up^ and the study of the law, so requisite for a gentleman of for- tune, totally neglected. He was a fine handsome youiig man, of a very dashing and gentlemanly appearance. Patty could not be ignorant of the motives which brought him so often to the window ; nor could she help admiring his very fine * '* Come per acqua, 6 per cristallo intero '* Trapassa il raggio, e nol divide o parte j '* Per entro il chiuso man to osa il Pensier© " Si penetrar ne la vietata parte -, " Ivi si spatiae, ivi contempla il vero ^' Di tante maraviglie a parte a parte j '** Poscia al Desio le narra e le descrive " E ne fa le sue fiamme in lui piii vivt/* GiERUSAL. Liber. Cant. iv. GEORGE MEADOWES, ESQ. 283 A Resolution upon Oath. person ; and, wifh all the imprudence of seventeen, she used, in the absence of her mistress, to take her needle-work and seat herself in the drawing-room windows. Young Meadows never stirred from home, except to take an hasty dinner at the G raj's InnCoffee-House and Tavern; he began to make use of signs, held up letters, &c.: Patty took no notice of them. At length seeing her one Saturday even- ing, after a very hard day'^s work, attired in a coarse, dark, stuff gown, checked apron, and all the other insignia of drudg- ery, but in which habiliments she looked that night, if possible, more lovely than ever ; after she had washed the door, not without some apparent symptoms of fa- tigue, he swore to himself the most sa-» cred oath that she should never be em- ployed in so menial an office again. He soon saw her master and mistress 284 LONDON CHARACTERS. He declares his Passion. go outy dressed^ to spend the evening. As Patty was closing the shutters^ she felt her hand suddenly pressed with gentle- ness and respect ; and she saw Mr. Mea- dowcs standing beside her — he swore he could not live without her — that no power on earth should suffer him any longer to see her in so servile a situation: and, what- ever libertinism of conduct there has been In Mr. Mead owes' life since his marri- age^ we must do him the justice to say, that there was a purity of affection in his love for the innocent Patty which made seduction only a momentary and quickly repented-of idea. When he begged her in- staiitlyto fly with him^ and siiifer him to provide her with comfortable lodgings, he soon found out the stedfast virtue of her mind ; he humbly implored pardon, and re- quested her to receive himin the character of an honorable lover ; this was easily ac- cepted by a young, inexperienced, artless girl, tVira an handsome nian^ a man of for- tune, with whom she would live in love^ GEORGE MEADOWESj ESQ. 285 A Temptation. €omfort, and ease, and eat no more the bitter and hard-earned bread of hiborious servitude. The attractions of Patty's person in- creased every day ; her figure grew tail^ uprightj and elegant ; happy in her future prospects^ her eyes sparkled with new brilliancy^ and the fresh rose of youth heightened its tint on her glowing cheeks. She made a complete conquest of her master; who would often call her to brush his coatj thank lier^ and gently tap her snowy bosom : sometimes be would en- deavour forcibly to snatch a kiss from her lovely lips^ but this freedom she never would suffer ; and when he has en- deavoured to argue with her on the in- nocence of these liberties, she h is said, '' Sir, I know my situation ; do not let me see that you forget you.r's, a id make me despise a master I would w:sh to respect." The master's love, however, rendered him a vigilant spy, and he, one night. 286 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Dialogue between the Rivals. detected theyoung lovers in close confer- ence at the street-door. He asked the young gentleman what brought him there ? '' Your housemaid, Sir^, Patty Harris/* replied Mr. Meadowes. '^ Prajs Sir/' said the master, '^ what are your intentions?" — Nothing less than honour- able marriage. Sir !" — '' Have you your father's consent?" — " That, Sir, does not concern you !" — and the gentlemen parted in high dudgeon. The master called his servant into his little favourite retired parlour. '' Patty,'* said he, " you are a good girl ; 1 will always be your friend ; I will make your fortune ; have nothing more to say to that young rake. Do you imagine his father will ever consent to Jiis marriage with you ? His father, child, is one of the wealthiest country gentlemen in Eng- land ; no, my sweet Patty, you shall no longer work; but promise me, faithfully, to have done with that coxcomb.'* GEORGE MEADOW ES, ESQ. 287 Fortitude, and deserved R -proof- '' Sir/' said she^ do not imag-ine I will ever accept of any protection or favour from jou, a married man, the husband of a mistress, vho has, in many instances, been extremely kind to me. If Mr. Meadowes* father will not pardon his marrying me, his profession in the law will help to support us, and it is impossi- ble I can work harder than I do at pre- sent. If you continue to hold the dis- course with me which you have begun this night, and which you have before aimed at, I shall thiiik it my duty to ac- quaint my mistress with the whole of your conduct towards me," Her master now thought it time to suf- fer his captive to escape, and leave the obstinate girl to her fate : she had, that night, conouered all her timidity ; her lover had just prevailed upon her to al- low their names to be called in church : as Patty was under age, and his father's acquaintance lying very much among 2S8 LONDON CHARACTERS, The Bans are published. the Doctors of the Commons^ he fore- saw all the difficulty of procuring a li- cense, without much investigation, and he thought it better to marry \Yithout his father's consent, than against it ; for the old gentleman, so indulgent to his only son, and so liberal in pecuniary al- lowances, had very high 'prospects for him iaa matrimonial alliance, and would not be easily coaxed to pardon a step, "which brought into his family the daugh- ter of a country shop-keeper, and the housemaid of a London Merchant. It was necessary Patty should quit her place, and take lodgings in the pa- rish of that church in which their bans were published; she accordingly wrote to her mother ; who came immediately to town, rejoicing in the happiness of her daughter, trusting that parental anger would soon blow over, and that her child would be welcomed to affluence and ele- gance. As soon as they were married GEORGE MEADOWES, ESQ. 289 Mrs. Meadowes's Character. she returned to her business in the coun- try, after receiving a present of a fev/ guineas from her son-in-law ; but we believe it was all he could afford to give her, for his bills on his father had been immense and frequent, to defi'ay the ex- pences of his wedding, and clothe his be- loved girl as became the wife of a man of fashion and fortune; her new dignity did not sit awkw ardlj upon her -, her fa- ther had given her that education w Iiicli the best school in the country couldafford^ for a poor man ! he never thought his daughter would be obliged to go out to service ; she had a large share of natural understanding and rehned sense; a taste for drawing had been cultivated by a master, who used to attend and give les- son3 about the country, and who, owing her father money, was very ready to teach so apt and fair a pupil to cancel his debt : she had a sweet natural voice in singing, and her loving husband in- stantly procured a master, who was to be VOL. I, o S90 LONDON CHARACTERS. The remaining Stigma of Servitude. indefatigable in liis attendance, and give lessonS;, for will cb be was to bepaidbisown price, to teacb ber tbe Spanish guitar. She was so very quick, and bad so fine an ear, tbat sbe wasablc^ in a verj short time, to plajtwentjnew songs, which she would accompany with tbe sweet wild notes of ber voice ; so that young Meadowes flattered himself, be should present a bride somewhat accomplished to bis fa- ther and sisters : true it was, the redness of ber bands and arms, occasioned by bard work, was a long time wearing off; though every possible remedy was used ; .such as Lily paste. Almond paste, and Bandana soap : sbe wore very long sleeves, and ber bands were always enve- loped in gloves, except when the con- stant music-master attended. Young Meadowes now drew a bill on his father for the sum of live luiiidred pounds ; intendhig to discharge bi^ lodg- ings, and carry bis bride down to tbe pa- GEORGE MEADOWES5 ESQ. 291 A Letter. rental mansion, in some style : he thought it better to go, and confess all, than write ; because he still beheld his Patty with the ejes of idolatry, and he thoiight it would be utterly impossible for any human beini»: to withstand such loveli- ness : he was surprised at receiving from his father a letter, containing a Bank Bill for fifty pounds only, with the following laconic answer : '' George, '' Your extravagance is insupportable! I am told 30U have a fine mistress, whom you keep in great splendor ; nay, it has been reported to me, that you are actu- ally married. Mind, though I shall be sorry to see you the dupe of one of those harpies, a patronized mistress, yet I will sooner forgive that than the latter ; for, if you had married a woman of any credit or family, you would have asked my consent, or brought your bride down here : therefore, if you are marriedj and o 2 292 LONDON CHARACTERS. Paternal Anger. to the person report sajs^ never see my face again. ^^ Andrew Meadowes.** Happily for Mrs. Meadowes her hus- band had not yet felt any abatement of his love for her. Old Meadow^es was soon convinced that the report of his son's marriage was not unfounded ; his sweet and amiable daughters^ whose for- tunes their beloved brother was daily diminishing-, used "every intreaty, every persuasion they could think of^ to induce the old gentleman to pardon his son : at last he consented to send him up an hun- dred pounds more^, and he wrote him word, if he liked he might bring down his awkward mop- squeezing wife, and remain a little while ;at the Hall, as he was going to a neighbouring fox-chace. How delighted were the sisters with their brother's choice ! A sweet, sensible, unassuming Pamela seemed to stand be- GEDRGE MEADOWES, ESQ. 293 The Storm is abated. fore thenij and ag-aia to shew '' Virtue rewarded ;*' but she was without the knowing art and aOected prudery of Richardson's heroine. Nothing could be more elegant than the persons, manners^ and dress of the three Miss Meadowes' : free from envv, thej delighted in raising their sister to the model of their politeness : little instruc- tion was necessary; she caught, aln.ost inslantaneously, the manners of her amia- ble tutoresses ; and before she had been a month at the hall^ she appeared the fi- nished woman of fashion. One day, after she had completed her toilette for the afternoon, she had de- scended to the dining parlour, and accom- panied her guitar with her voice. The Spcmish guitar is very superior to the common, simple, instrument of that name ; it is played by all the Spaniards who are well-skilled in music, and is now the o3 294' LONDON CHARACTERS, Sisterly Kindness. favourite accompaniment to a lady's voice in aii the politer circles of Paris. We be- lieve they have erroneously given the name of the lute to this instrument, iii England. Its tones so perfectly resem- })le that of the harp_, that a listener, not seeing the performer^ would imagine ii to be one ; while i\\e art of playing on it is learnt in as few lessons as is requisite to teach the common guitar. As Mrs. Meadowes was thus seated, singing with that ease which a person feels^ however timidj when they imagine no one is near^ old Mr. Meadowes im- expectedly arrived. He stopped in the liall ; he thought he heard an harp ; he knew his daughters played only the Piano- Forte; — the voice had a peculiar sweet- ness, which, though the Miss Meadowes sung scientifically^ had in its mellow tones nothing similar to their's. He entered the dining parlour. He was Old W^ Me adowe s "I Jiave ^e€n Ustemm;, sorne^ tone at the Door, delu^litedy'.' YoTiiig- IVTf Me adowe s . "I lwp& Twt, Sir. " Tide . Vol 1 . Tage zpd GEORGE SISADOWESj ESQ. 295 I Power of Harmc ny. struck with the bewitching appearance of the interesting joung creature which presented herself to his view. She rose, addressed him with politeness^ thinking lie was some country gentleman who had been invited to dinner ; and as she stood before him, she displayed a form of the hnest symmetry and grace ; Et vera incessu patuit Dea. Her dress was a delicately white mus- lin of a very fine texture, and the fa- shion of her robe was such as set off the contour of her lovely figure to the best advantage : a few ringlets of her bright nut-brown hair sported carelessly over her facCj while its fine length was con- fined in braids by a pearl comb. ''1 beg, young lady/' said her father- in-laWj '^ I may not interrupt the charm- ing employment you were engaged in ; I have been listening, some time^ at the. o 4 296 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Crisis. door^ delighted/' " I hope not. Sir/' said the blushing Mrs. IMeadowcs. '' I should imagine," replied he, '' a coun- tenance so expresive of good nature would not be displeased at imparting pleasure to others. But how long has this village been blessed in such an ac- quisition as yourself? for I will flatter myself you are some very near neighbour ; amongst all my daughter's young friends, 1 am sure I never saw you before/* Mrs. Meadowcs now felt a sudden trembling come over her ; she had been conversing with her husband's father^ >vho had vowed never to receive her. She said, '' I will inform the young ladies you are here. Sir. Mr. Meadowes took her hand ; '' No, my charming young lady, pray do not leave me ; my girls ge- nerally take a long time at their toilette when they dress for dinner, and seldom come down till a few minutes before it is on the table." ''Pardon me. Sir," GEORGE MEADOWESj ESQ. 297 A Scheme in View. said the trembling Mrs. Meadowes^ '' but I am sure they do not know you are ar- rived.** She then almost flew to the dressing-room of her sisters^ and told them all that had past, '' I wish/* said Miss Eliza, the second sister^, '^ George was not so impetuous : otherwise you should go down to dinner as a stranger^ till we found the old gen- tleman quite prejudiced in your favour; and then^ after dinner^ George should confess alL'* They just then saw their brother re- turning home from his morning's walk : his sisters beckoned him, from their window, to come up stairs ; but the old gentleman opened the parlour-door, and ordered him into his presence, '' I hope, Sir,*Vsaid young Meadowes^ ^' jou call me to assure me of that for- giveness which I again humbly solicit?*^ o5 298 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Catastrophe. Mr. Mcadowes doted on his son ; he looked at him^ he saw him handsoQier than ever. '' George/' said he^ '' you know I love you : I thought^ I hoped, you had more pride than to take the rasb and foolish step you have done. Now 1 ere is a sweet young creature^ I have not yet learnt who she is, hut I declare I would have forgiven yoii;, if you had married her without a shilling/' '' I d ire say. Sir/' said George, '^ it is my wife you have seen." '' Your wife ! — not she ; this is an elegant, polite, genteel young woman, fit to adorn the drawing- room of any nobleman in the kingdom : not your clnder-sifter, I assure you : but keep the creature out of my sight, don't let her want for any thing tiie house aifords, but never let her come near me !" Greorge ran up stairs to his sister's dressing-room. It yetwanted half^n-hour to dinner : he scorned to listen to their advice, but seizing his wife by the hand. GEORGE MEADOWESj ESQ. 299 'g' •- ■ ' ■ ■ ■ ....... The Reconciliation. he forcibly led her down stairs into the presence of his father. '' Sir/' said he, as thej both knelt at his feet, ^' you cannot retract what you have said in favour of this beloved woman ! You have said, she would adorn the most exalted state; can you, then, wonder at your son, if he had penetration enough to discover it when she was clothed in the coarse and humble garb of industry?" ^' Rise,, my children," said the agi- tated Mr. Meadowes ; '^ I cannot, in- deed, my son, I cannot blame your choice.'* He then tenderly embraced his daughter, and the happy family sat down to dinner, where mirth and joyful reconciliation presided over the hospita- ble board. Soon after this event, in about eight months from that day, old Mr, Mea- dowes was suddenly taken off by a fit of apoplexy. On opening his will^ the oG 800 LONDON CHARACTERS^' Death of his Father. large family estate, with its rich ap- pendages^ (ievoived to his only son; from the unbounded indulgence of the father^ and the unlimited extravagance of that son^ the daughters' fortunes were found to be but very small indeed ! Bred up to nothing but alifeof ease, fashion^ and affluence^ they felt this privation of wealth most keenly. Their brother^ af- fectionately embracing them, assured them they should always live, as usual, at the Hall, and he would do every thing in his power to make their livei$ comfortable, and amend their fortunes. His wife being far advanced in her first pregnancy, he left her at the Hall, to take a full swing of his darling plea- iures of dear London. How many envied the lot of Mrs, Meadowes ! how few had cause I A young woman, in the situation she was then in, seldom looks well: but she had looked remarkably so all the time; and the most trying time^ GEORGE MEADOWES, ESQ. sol Pregnancy. except the last^ being over^ her sisters were shocked to see the deep dejection which marked her countenance : tley beg'ged she would permit them to send for her mother^ but she refused it with energy ; knowing how ill she could be spared from the business of her little shop ; and that Mr. Meadowes had never expressed a wish^ nor even had done any thing", to serve her. Poor blue-eyed Patty was no longer a novelty ! and many was the country girl^ already, though he had only been married ten months, who had to rue the day she lent an ear to the flatteries of the young squire. In about a month after the departure of Mr. Meadowes for London, his v/ife w as delivered of a daughter : the sisters wrote to their brother, thinking to de- light him with the news : he wrot^ •303 LONDON CHARACTERS, A Sketch afier Nature. tolerably kind to Mrs. Meadowes^ but his letter to his elder sister was cold and distant : he was much disappointed^ he said^ at his child being a girl j but beg- ged, for heaven's sake, it might be named after its amit Eliza or Harriet ; he carednot which, but, on no account, to give it its mother's vulgar name of Patty I that he had particular business in town, which rendered it impossible for him to go to the country for a month, at least : during that period the sisters heard, from undoubted authority, that he was keeping a favourite mistress in high splendour : this, however, they care- fully kept from Mrs. Meadowes, who pleased with her new state, and her little healthy darling, felt a portion of content^, though keenly feeling her husband's neglects Nothing could appear so sweetly inter- esting as this lovely young woman, at this GEORGE MEADOWES, ESQ. 303 A guilty Conduct. period; her skin might vie with alabaster; her well-turned arms and taper fingers were now no longer coarse and red^ but white as an unsullied lilj. The sisters all wrote, intreated their brother to come down and see the most beautiful sight in nature. He came at their earnest persuasions ; he beheld this picture of young maternal beauty with cold indifference^ though an husband and a father, and though he beheld a child her exact resemblance : decency, however^ required his stay till the christening of his daughter was over ; h€ behaved tolerably well to his wife^ and civil to his sisters. They knew he was returning back to his guilty pleasures and abandoned mistress ; but they already felt their dependance, and feared to ex- postulate. Poor Mrs. Meadowes sighed when she saw him depart, and, tenderly as she still loved him, was often tempted to wish herself again a drudge in Bedford 301' LONDON CHARACTERS, His Folly increases. row ; but the sweet and gentle soothings of her kind sisters^ her dear little girl^ growing every day and increasing in beauty^ often gave cheerfulness to her heart and hopes^ that her worthless hus- band would one day be better. Alas ! fond womaHj — if thou art a wife^ when man once forsakes thee for another^ and uses thy virtues ill^ while he pampers ^'ice and wantonness^ depend upon it all thy love and attention will never regain the wanderer. In the summer Mr. Meadowes paid them a long visit ; seemed better pleased with his child, who began to take notice of him, and in a few months Mrs. Mea- dowes found herself in a second state of pregnancy. It seemed as if every new child inspired Mr. Meadowes with the idea of a new mistress ; for now he kept two ; and, with- out dwelling on the sameness of the life GEORGE MEADOWESj ESQ, SOI) Embarrassment. of his unhappy wiie, before she brought her third child into the world, a lovely bov^ he had three ! His infidelities had come to her know- ledge, and she was a wretched and me- lancholy wife ; but her person seemed more delicately interesting, more charm- ing, than ever. Mr. Meadowes was delighted at hearing he had a boy : and now, the estate must be taken care of for his heir ; but when he came to look into his affairs, dreadful was the state he found them in — he had immense debts — his sisters trifling for- tunes were not yet paid, and he had drawn great sums from his banker, till his ready cash was almost exhausted. He mortgaged the estate deeply, and it is said he has established himself in the firm of an eminent banking-house. He has realized many thousands in some 306 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. scheme or other ; his sisters fortunes are paidj and the mortgage bought off. But he is still a worthless husband, continuing to treat the grateful creature^ who never reproaches him, with unfeel- ing barbarity, and lavishing his money on abandoned and mercenary mistresses ; while, to gratify his pride, his wife is at- tired with elegance and splendour, but has seldom a guinea in her purse she can call her own. LORD AND LADY HURST. Apparent rari nantes in gurgitc vasto." Virgil. JLf the satirist thinks himself obliged io record the vices and folly of the age ; if malice and envy delight in drawing aside the impenetrable curtain that surrounds the mysteries ofthehuman hearty, and exult at finding there the thistle and the nettle, thriving on the hot-bed of passions; yet the eye of the writer who wishes well to all his fellow-creatures^ of either sex^ of whatsoever age and rank they may be, cannot but be pleased at the inspection of some characters stamped by the heavenly hand of virtue, and he culls there, with heart- felt gratification, the lily of inno- cence and the laurel of learning, the rose SOS LONDON CHARACTERS. Introduction. of love, and the hollj-sprig of chastity ; and of these he composes a wreath wor- thy of his impartial readers. To hear of virtue and worth is a pause in the mis- chievous storm and guilty bustle of com- mon lifcj which is eagerly enjoyed by the good, whilst the wicked themselves cannot entirely turn aside their prying sight from the pages that force them to admire what they have not the good sense to imitate. Lord Hurst is the second son of a noble Marquis, well known for his bravery in the field of battle, his skilful conduct in several diplomatic situations, and his im- pressive eloquence in the British Senate. His eldest brother, destined to succeed his father in the glories of his name and fortune, thought he might leave to a younger son the care of finding his way through life, sat himself down content, surrounded with his f^ither's blazing titles, and never wished to have any splen- dour of his own. LORD AND LVDV HUR'^T. 309 Early ll'.sings. Lord Hurst was of a diftereiit opinion ; though respectful to the utmost degree for his father's illustrious ancestry^ he al- lowed himself to think that personal merit is still more adherent to man than the dignity of his bloody and^ by all possible assiduity to the performance of his du- tieSj he deserved the regard and love of all who had the opportunity of being ac- quainted Ziith Mm, At college he never permitted the sun to find him in bed; and has often declared that, if ever he said or wrote any thing worth hearing or reading, it was the re- sult and production of those early hours : when disengaged from yesterday's bustle, and re-united more intimately to our or- gans by the balsamic operation of sleep, the soul is alive to the keenest perceptions, and expatiates In the wild regions of fancy and the realms of reflection as freely as the body would wander in tlie 310 LONDON CHARACTERS' CoHege Education. streets of the metropolis^, at three o'clock in the morning. The well-regulated succession of em- ployments^ the continual change of avo- cations^ that life of abnegation^ subordi- nate to the hour-hand of the dial^ and a perpetual slave to the imperative tongue of the bell, taught him, at the university of Cambridge, a real knowledge of, and in. fused in him a decided love for, regu- larity. The elementary diet of the college was congenial and wholesome to a body en- tirely subject to the lordly mind ; and he carried everywhere that sense of temper- ance which had so much singularized him among his school'fellows. Aman who could understand and feel with rapture Homer and Virgil ^ read JMillon and Tasso with exstacy, laugh and philoso- phise with Horace and Addison, could LORD AND LADY HURST. 311 His A[)pearance in the Great World. not be busy at loo SLudfaro, or silent at picquet a* d at ivhist. Gamblers he had classed in his common- place book among the ueasts of pre}'^ and he avoid- ed them as such. Fraught with these dispositions, he came within the vortex of our system, and found himself an extravagant comet among the regular irregularities of high life. He was shunned by the fop and coxcomb, dreaded by the demi-s^avant and pert scholar, but well understood by the learned, and loved by the good. Conscious of rectitude of conduct and stability of mind, he saw, like the polar star, the rest of the merry throng dance through many a mtanderiiig zone around him, and cis fixed and unmovable, concen- trated J himself in the narrow but not fri- gid circle of a few m: le and female friends, whom he cultivated with real pleasure and affection. 312 LONDON CHARACTERS. Their Marriage. A young womaiij of a good thoiigli not very ancient family, appeared to him des- tined to secure his terrestrial felicity; and, with the consent of his friends, he mar- ried her. Corruption and debauchery had not weakened the fibres of their un- derstanding nor the sinews of their bodies ; chastity had followed them both from the cradle to the altar ; and, as the ties of Hymen were nought but the garlands of Love, their union was the lasting cement of connubial happiness. Oh ! blessed be ye for ever, most worthy couple! Why are you not read in your obvious sense by every one, that your example should impress the world with the dignity of your life, and force the wicked to tear off the black pages of their own character, and begin upon blank leaves the remaining part of their sublunary drama. Two sons a'}d a daughter are the off- LOUD AND LADY HURST. 313 Their Children. spring:s of there amiable parents. Reflect- ed every moment in the unsullied mirror of their father and mother's conduct, their own is unblemished, and the foul breath of calumny has never yet succeeded in its endeavours to tarnish either. Elected by the unbribed votes of the freeholders of a large county to be their representative^ Lord Hurst^ in the house of commons, thunders against corruption and iPiCreasiiig' deterioration of constitu- tional principles — like a great character who is now no more, ''^ he stands alone/* inaccessible to flattery or interest ; and the influence he may have in the distribu- tion of favours and pliices is never di- rected by unlawful or exceptionable im- pulsion. His Lady is the sharer of all the afl'ec- tioDs of his heart, all the perceptions of his soul ; and their children^ the dearest VOL. I, P 3l4 LONDON CHARACTERS. ■w t; - ■ ■ -n. Conclusion. pledges of their love, keeping close to the healthy and solid stem, will bear fruit worthy of their origin. CRITICISM BELOW STAIRS. *• Sic magnis cotnponerc parva solcbam." Virg. Whilst the Marquis was entertaining the noble Duchess and his amiable sister with the foregoing anecdotes^ Bettj/ Winker, a favourite among the upper- maids, was sitting at one of the windows, nursing on her lap a pretty little French pug-dog, that had lately met with a most distressing accident : he had, poor soul ! uncautiously jumped from one of the red damask chairs of the balcony, and then; in a frolick, or aiming at some passing birds, had fallen between the bars of the green railing into the area of the kitchen, to the great astonishment and dismay of all the inhabitants of the subterraneous regions, '' O ! Lud, O ! Lud'' ex^ claimed the splay-footed housekeeper, p2 316 LONDON CHARACTERS, A Distressing Accident. *' what shall we saj to my Ladj; the poor creature is killed at least:'* the upper- maidj the valet de cliamhre, the French cuisinier, the butler^ the other maids^ the tun spit, and the maid-of-all -work, joined in the lamentation, faemineo ululatu ; and the horrid yell soon ascended to the apart- ments above : a sudden clap of thunder, on a cold morning in January^ could not be more unexpected than this heart- breaking newS;, and surely would cause less astonishment and stupor. Doctor Straightlcgs was sent for immediately, and the rumbling of his carriage from a mile*s distance caused as much anxi- ety as his decision imported comfort to the distressed family. After much examination and consulta- tion, it was solemnly staled that Bij.ii had but slightly luxated his dexter collar- bone, and bruised the lower part of the jugularis. tensor; that his left ear had onl^ been squeezed between the water-tub CRITICISM BELOW STi^lRS. S17 A Nurse assigned to Bijou. and the mop^ and that his wolaris supe» rior had sufi'ered bnt an inconsiderable concussion in the moment of the lapsus inopinaius. With several prescriptions fur embrocations^ pills, and lotions^ the much- pitied sufferer was^, with solemn caution, delivered into the hands and kind care of Miss Betty — after this peculiar and most important injunction^that she should have him in or on her bed at nighty and on her lap bj day, till his perfect conva- lescence was thoroughly achieved^ and complete recovery publicly declared by the learned physician. BeUy therefore was at her post, and rubbing' up and down, with all possible gentleness, the white silken coat of the favourite, listened, parmaniere cV acquit, to the interesting relations of the Marquis. But as soon as the last character was concluded, she hastened down stairs, and addressing Mrs. Bliimpy the housekeeper ; — but cre^ we give our readers an account of the conversation, let us delineate faithfully ^3 «S18 LONDON CHARACTERS, Mrs. Blump, the several ch«iracteis which composed the family; for we may from them ob- tain a certain and most interesting know- ledge of another class of people, who^ although moving in a lower sphere^ have their aberrations, retrogradations, and eclipses, as well as the superior planets; their observations will prove the follow- ing saying, that, '- Un sot n'est pas toujours, aussi sot qu'on le pense."* To begin by the principal character of the committee of inquiry below stairs, we shall inform the public, that Mrs. Blump was the daughter of a respectable hosier in Cheapside, and that, in her youthful days, the poor creature had been desper- ately in love with a sergeant-major in the London Militia, then quartered in the Old Bailev, with whom she had * A fool is not always so fooli^.h as he is thought. CRITICISM BELOW STAIRS. 319 and her Lovers. many a time flirted in Hide-park, and other places of reviews and sham-fights ; but the god of Icve is fickle^, and the crimson-sashed hero soon proved unfaith- ful to the city damsel. Bundles of letters, boxes of ribbons^ gilt ginger- bread from Bartholomew fair and other noisy spots of genteel entertainment, were found in her welhpapered trunk, by her suspecting faUier, who, before the laud- able institution of the volunteer system, looked upon a soldier as one of the nu- merous butchers of human kind, and would never have consented to the union. In vain the sexton of Bow-church, a bachelor of good fame and mi!d temper, sent his twcifth-cakcs and valentines to th; disconsolate Sally ; a disparity of age was for her a sufficient objection, and she would hear no longer of the long- faced church-assistant. The pev/ -opener at St. Mildred, the hopeful son of a mos^ devout old widow, whose husband had p 4 320 LONDON CHARACTERS.. She will hear of Love no more, died worth five hiiudred pounds in the four-per-cents, had no better chance; in vain he presented her v.ith a pair of paste- diamond ear-rings^ bought bran nezv at a jeweller's in Sackvillc-stFeet^ and a silver needle-case he had found uiider one of the green cushions of the pews : his pre- sents were not regarded;, and he was econduit without the least ceremonj. The pastrj-cook of the shop opposite to her father's had showered candied sweet- Hieets, sent pctits fdHes of second-hand by dozens^ and a pound-cake accompani- ed with verses '^ of his own composing;** he had no better success : in three words^, the Sexton was too suiky^ too pale in the facC;, and too old ; the cook too blubber- ous and fiit ; the sacred turnkey too de- mure and lank : she would hear of love no more, and sat herself down quietly for an everlasting maid. However, some un- forscen revolutions in her father^s aifairs liaving suddenly taken place, she was forced out of the paten ai house, and con* eUITICrSM BELOW STAIRS. S2l Her Cascades through Life. strained to become a lady's maid at Al- derman Fulham*s^ where she lived in ere* dit and happy, till her master dying of an indigestion^ she was dismissed with the rest of the servants. We shall not follow good Mrs. Blump through al! the situations she held with- in the bills of mortality^ to the house of Sir Jolm Feelnig, where, by a temporary dropsical sort of an illness^ she was oblig- ed to suspend her functions for a few months, and then re-appeared as thin and tapcr-waisted as ever; nor to the houdoir of Lady Prudell, where she was found, early in the morning, ia close conversation with Polhili, my lady's hair-diesser, who had strayed there by mere chance; aor^ indeed, down to the kitchen cf Miss Roseviile, an old spinster, who dismissed het inhumanly for having foolishly gut-- ted a brace of woodcocks, and roasted them without a toast : — we take her as we find her, a creditable housekeeper m the p 5 322 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Butkr. service and pay of the Duke of Pyrmont, a great crony with the butler, and a se- cret rival to Miss Betty JVinker. This gentleman, the butler we niean, was the most intimate confident of his Grace ; indeed he hada right to his utmost favour, since he had saved his master's ho- nour and life at a certain volcanic explo- sion that took place, a few years ago, in theneighbourhood of St. Martin's-lane, where an ancient model of the sacellum and temple of Venus Callipi/ga was com- pletely destroyed and burnt to ashes. His Grace, and several others, amongst whom was a notorious priest of the goddess, had escaped by the first-floor windows, in a light dress, just as they had left the sa- cellum and sacred pulvinar ;* hooted by theprofane and ignorant mob, they were on ' ,^ * The pulvinar was a kind of bolster or cushion, v/liich the Romans used to place under the slatuesj nt their gods, on particular days. CRITICISM BELOW STAIRS. 32S His Amours. the point of being hustled back into the flames, when, supecting his master to have been officiating at the temple that night, the faithful butler brought gar- ments to cover his accidental nudity. Mrs. Blump, who had been made privy to the transaction, found her interest to keep in with Mr. Spruce; and few people know how many bottles of Frontignac, Mountain, and Madeira, have distilled their delightful nectar on the lips of these two friends, as they always sat up after the whole family were gone to bed, in orderto put out thelights. Treading lightly on tiptoe, often did curiosity lead Miss Betty to the door, and placed her listen- ing ear to the key-hole, but in vain t she never heard any thing of consequence, nothing more tha.n what is of course, viz. abusing the duke and hisladies, laughing at the duchess's vanity and dress, mimick- ing the prudery of Lady Charlotte, and the occasional simpering of ma^^er Philip. ?6? S24 LONDON CHARACTESS. Miss "Winker. Betty was the natural daughter of a petty-officer of the Custom-house, who. having been smuggled off by some ruf- fians, could no longer support, in the Minories, where he lived, the beautiful y^ung Abigail whom he had seduced and led away from Rosemarj-ianc. How- ever, tossed from place to place, always konest and naturaliy cheerful, Bclty fared prelty wel), and obtained both the high honour of being my lady's favourite, and ihe felicity of attractins: the notice of Mr. Niillianicl Spruce and the pug- dogo Monsie ur D udois was a native of ^/ar/T/, near Paris, and had exercised the libera! art of cooking; under the deuominatiou ef a French cuisiiiiir, ail hough his father was Suisse de naticmj ahd porter at the gate o^ Lvcienne, tfie country-seat of the imfortunate mistress of Louis XV. He came wiili that lady to England ; but liaving left no property behind, and be- CRITICISM BELOW STAIRS. 325 The French Cook. ing particuiiirly fond of our 2:uineas, thought prudent not to go back to France. He spoke bad Frencbj and worse English ; ^vas uncommonly fond of danc- ing, and a tolerable performer on the vio- lin. Often would he pass his evenings, scraDinc: at the bottom of the staircase^ when the Duchess was at a rout^ and so- licit iheft?7i?nesde chambre to a cotillion in the hall ; but m the country he led a miserable life, talking of nothing but of the jar dins deMarljj, and contriving^ with all kinds of gestures, to make his fellow- servants understand the whole secret and machinery of the famous water-works of that place ; however^ he had enough of the Frenchman about him to be ia love with all women in the world ^ to wear constantly a flower at his button- hole^ and never to appear before he had twisted the black ribbon of his queue. His mental faculties were not bright, but his vivacity was often taken for wit, and his politeness for good breeding. 526 LONDON CHAflACTERS^ Miss Sharpe, the Maid. A cunning joung woman^ whose name was Sharpe, held the second station be- low Miss Betty. She was born at York^ and sent to London by her friends as a maid-of-all-workj at a boarding-school in the neighbourhood of Clapham; but, a few days after she had been there, a pair of silk stockings, the only pair that belonged to the Queen of the rod, walk- ed, God knows how, into her trunk; and she was dismissed on a moment's notice. What could she do ? No character to be obtained from her unforgiving mis- tress ; to walk the streets at night would have been shocking to her mind and the ideas she had of virtue; by letters, in the most pathetic stile, she obtained a recom- mendation from a lady she was acquaint- ed with, and the stain being thereby washed off, she, from situation to situa- tion, climbed up and arrived at Lady Pyr- mont's bed-chamber. She was pretty, and of a comely figure, and not unnoticed fey Monsieur Dubois^ who would swear. CRITICISM BELOW STAIRS, S21 The Irish Valet. far Dieu, that she was the more hand- some girl of de vorld. The valet-de-chamhre was an lliber, nian, of the illustrious and ancient fa- mily of O'Killt/'Bate ; and although Mr. JDwZ?o/sthought himself obliged toadmire him because he went to mass every Sun- day, and ate fish on Christmas Eve (if he could get it), yet he wrote him down as a fool, always supposing his name to be^ and generally translating it in his mind by the French words, '' 0! qiiHl est ISte, what a fool he is ;" but Mr. Dubois, who might be a good judge of soups and fri- candoes, of entrees and entremets, was egregiously mistaken there^ for O'Rilly was a clever fellow, with all the open- ness, warmth, and sincerity of an Irish- man, and the steadiness of a Briton. His brogue had never been properly broken, and he sported it in its greatest purity, although, in his humble opinion, he was persuaded that no one could take him for a native of the banks of the Lilly. 328 LOPsDON CHARACTERS, The Conversation- Jane \¥are^ next in situation to Miss Sliarpe, wastheobject of his warm addres- sesj and thej expected soon to be united iit the sacred ties ot matrimony. She had tra- velled with an Irish lath through France and Italy^ and could say her comment vous portezvousP and C07ne sia? as de- liberately as how do you do ? The rest of the kitchen inmates were too insignifi- cant to be taken notice of, and therefore we shall return to Miss Winker's address to Mrs, Biump. DIALOGUE. *• Quid domini facient audent cum talia fares P' Betty, Lord, Ma'ara, what curious stories, to be sure, .the Marquis has beeri reading up stairs to the Luiies ; such scandal, such gossipiiigs, amongst the great people ! I would bless me star, to CRiflCISM BELOW STAIRS. 329 A Discnrery. he as I am, could I think that such aneC' dotes are true. Mrs. Blump, Well, well ! here you are again, Betty; all in a stew for nothing. What's the matter ? Mrs. Spruce, Oh, she knows nothing of the wickedness of the beau monde, or else she would not be so amazed. I have seen a little of the world, for my own part ; and really I do think that, in a lower class, people are, to a tittle, as wicked as the nobility. The Valet. By J — s, that's very true ; and I have always remarked, that our betters are not ixorse than we are. Now, for instance, there are some people who will preach to one to be good, and do not trillle at taking the chips out of one's pocket. My former master's hair-dresser, who used to shave him, and furnish h^^ bald head with a bob-wig twice a year. 330 LONDON CHARACTEnS. Vice and Folly in common Life. borrowed of me six golden yellow bojs, and soon after cut his throat to avoid payment ; I applied to his widow for the suni^ but she proved not to be his lawful wife^ and consequently I lost the whole; there is for you, Pvliss Betty ! Cuisinier^ Oh ! quil est bete ! Vous ne raisonnez pas bien sur 9a. A wife has 710 right to pay the debts of her husband when he is dead, chiefly when she gets nothing by his death but a little more liberty. Bob Mealbrow, the baker, as you call him, left a wife and three chil- dren to bless his going off, as he used to kick such a row, as you say, when the Lord Mayor refused to raise the price of bread *. Spruce. I knew him well; and I can tell * As it would be unpleasant to the reader to see in print Mr. Dubois's English orthographied as he pro- nounced his words, we have followed the commoti. way of spelling. CRITICISM BELOW STAIRS. 331 The fatal Bank-note. you a good story about that fellow. His shop was ill ihe neighbourhood of one of those iiifiimt)us houses, where a man, conscious of his guilt, goes to hide with his partner, the common prostitute, the shame of his lust : a few years ago, com- ing home from a benefit club, to which he belonged, and where he made a point to get drunk, before he left theplace every first Monday the year round, he stag- gered his way through the Strand, and having made choice of one of the street- walkers to accompany him, he was, by her, unknowingly led to the place of ac- commodation just mentioned. What was his astonishment the next day, when his wife, with a long face,, shewed him his name upon a two-pound note, which had been presented to her for change the night before, by the venj waiter of the veri/ house, who having not been hired there but a few hours be- fore the baker and his lass came in, did 332 LONDON CHARACTEttS. More petty Scandal. not guess that be lived at the next door^, and described him^ scuis scriipule, to his inquisitive wife. Airs. Blump. Oh ! for shame. I should like to see that fellow hanged ! Betty, That is too bad^ Mr. Spruce ; and I shall beg* leave to believe not a word of it. Why, the fellow was worse than the Duke himself; and perhaps, in his pot-house, his elbow on the greasj table, he had often the boldness to laugh at the great with unblushing impu- dence. Spruce, What will you say of Dicky, the coachman of Lord Bruise, who dines every Sunday, when he is at leisure, w ith his son, the shoemaker, and his concubine, whom he knows to be a married woman : here is morality for you ! JaneSharpe, Oh ! that 's nothing. Doctor CRITICISM BELOW STAIRS. SS3 Continued. Playwell has christened two of his sister's children, and took care of their education, although he was privy to their being the adulterous offspring of an unlawful connection in the absence of the hus- band. Valet. AYell ; what could he do ? To let the poor babes go to hell for want of baptism ? I say he was right there. Mrs. Blump, Ahi! ahi ! but why should he countenance such doings ; to be sure, I was never married ; but had I been a wife, I would alsvays have taken care of the main chance. Valet, By the bye, I have found a very pretty piece of poetry at the bottom of the bowling-green, in the grounds, which, I swear, was written by the Mar- quis to somebody; for though it is not his hand-writing, I am sure he wrote them. 334 LONDON CHARACTERS. Explanation . Cuisinier. Mon dieu, qu'il est b^te ! How can he have written it, if it is not -with his hand ? Valet. True ; but I meant to say, that he composed them, and had them copied off, or something like it ; for I heard him visibly repeat them the other morn- ing bj himself, when he was taking an airing in the tulip-walk with the French Count: here they are. Spruce. Let's see ; it is his hand- writing, I am confident ; and the style will shew you, if you know any thing about poetry, that they are so very bad that nobody else could have composed them. Mrs, Blump, Now^ come, Mr. Sp ruce, let us have 'em. CRITICISM BELOW STAIRS. 335 Love Stanzas. Spruce reads. " LetPhillls rant in mad'ning prose. Whilst auburn hairs, in catching curl. Of her cold bosom hide the snows j What is she lo my simple girl ? ** LetChloe, proud of charming eyes. The darts of love dextrously burl. And wound our hearts, and cause our sighs j She's nothing to my country girl. *' Let Lydia spread the purple bows. And the long Spanish cloak unfwl ; Let her display the Nankin shoes. What is she to my simple girl ?" Betty. Well, I am sure ! and whom dy'e think it was addressed to ? Cuisinier. I know, I know ! to that joUe petite minoiSj that prett v face Tom Sackwell^s daughter. Jane Ware, Vous avez raison ! I'll lay any thing it is done for her ; but 33() LONDON CHARACTFRe. Reflt;ctions. what a shamCj that Master Philip should degrade himself so as to write verses to a red-elbowed^ coarse kitid of a thing like her. I saw her at church last Sunday, with her mother^, in a red cloak as old as Herod,, and yet she \vas so foolish as to suppose herself dressed comme ilfaut, and very fashionable. She was so proud;, she did not know what side to hang her head. Mrs, Blump, Manners^ manners^ IMiss; butj liowsomevcrj this reminds me of the Brewer and Mrs. Shark. Pray, Mr. Spriicej did you hear anything about the trial ? Spruce. All the world is mad about it ; chiefly since the public is in posses- sion of those valentines which he sent her. Betty, Pray, what are they like ? A man of fortiuic, of good education and sense, cannot write to a woman like Mrs. CRITICISM BELOW-STAIRS. 331 Curiosity. Shark, without being ver^ amusing, witty, and romantic. Spruce, Romantic ! ah ! we have enough of that. Cuisinier, What is the story, pray ; t am quite ignorant of it. Valet, By J — , TJr. Spruce, causes the whole of that ; for, before I hear it, I am bound it must be very funny. Spruce, Mr. Weston, an eminent brewer, in London, Las by the help and kind assistance of his father (a man truly ])eloved by all who know him) as well as by iiis own industry, realized i princely for- tune; inflict, ar.d to shorten the b'-^fsiness^ he has bougjit up, and paid for, jaii iiti-j mense Dumber of Licensed public-hoiises, which he lets to no one but those who buy and sell his porter : as far, il is eII right. But Mr. Weston ha^ a--c€C»^ia number of piirtnerg who clainvalsoa rijht VOL, I. Q SSS LONDON CHARACTERS. The Brewer and Mrs. Shark. to dkpose of those places^ and it appears that thej could never have any share in this part of the business, as Mr. Weston used to leave the matter to a Mrs. Shark, his cliere amie, who was cunning enough to make a good thing of it, hy receiving j)rtmium from those whom, by her influ- ence, she promoted to these several sta- tions. Now there has been a montrous row in the firm, and indeed the whole came before the public in some of the principal courts of justice. Mrs Shark appeared at the hall as a witness, and in a spiteful speech impeached the brewer, and disclosed his correspondence with her. Several letters were produced and read, and among them, this, of which the fol- lowing is a copy, excited the laughter of some and the indignation of others. Mrs, Blump, I dare say it is very clever. Read it, pray ? Spruce^ Reads. '' Tunbridge, Nov. 15, 1808, " My loTely dear, and dearest of all ^CRITICISM BELOW-STAIRS. 339 Princely Style. that's dear. Not all the hops in the kingdoiii^were I possessor of them would^ in my mind and most loving hearty be of any value^ compared to the posses- sion of one hour of your sweet presence! 3'^our kisses stick to my lips sweeter than liquorice^and sugar is a sour stuffy if, — " Beity, Hold ! hold ! Sir. This can- not be genuine^ it is too foolish to have been penned by a man so polished, so well educated, as he is — and a married man too. Mrs. Blumjp* And that is the worst of the business. Why do not those mar- ried men keep to their own wives ; it i& a shame that such practices should bo allowed in a well-regulated society, Betty. It is so, Mrs. Blump ! Valet, The best fun was when thia gallant brewer mistaking, in a moment of amoroHS distraction, the door of Lady P**, for the 'private entrance of Mrs, 340 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. Shark's house, fell in, as from a cloud/ ^ in the dining room, where the family in- the absence of tlieir mistress were re- Itearsing a few scenes of lligli Life Below Stairs. The Cook, who was half seas-^ over, shook him heartily by the hand, and taking him for somebody else, bowed, and laughed him out, v. ith these words : '^ My lord, you are mistaken. It is the next door you want." . Spruce. They served him right. All agreed on the point, but on a sud- den a most desperate pull at the bell from above, and a second rap ?d the door, put an end to the committee, and every one ran to answer the call, except Mrs. Blump, who, leaning back on her arm-chair, ru- minated, in her mind upon vAmt had been said, and, with a gapish '^ heigl:- ho, ' went gently off in a sound nap* . END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. FMO^TI§FIE€E, voi.n. THE TiRIAIL OF FATIMA CLAMKISo Fide Fage 321. JlonDon Cl)aracters ; ANECDOTES, FASHIONS, and CUSTOMS, OF THE PRESENT CENTURY. BY SIR BARNABY SKETCHWELL, SeCNE AND rORTRAtr-l'AlMtR TO TUE ARGYLE-ROOMS, AXD OTHEK I'LACI b OK EI.EG.V\T RESORT. TV TWO VOLUMr.S. Embellished vsith appropriate and humorous Fngraxl^g*, THE SECOND EDITION, WITH ADDITIONS AND IMPROVEMENTS. -^ Quae cuiQue est fovtuna hodie, quam quisqne secat spera, Iros Rululusve ruat, nollo discriiaine habebo. Virg. JEn. X. 107- Jtnne on vienx, riche on pauvre, enfin Juif OB Chretien, >al ne m'cciiapper^, s'il n'esl bomme de biea. Rtgnard irnnL Old and young, rich and poor, Churchman, Baptist, or Jew, If twoiiiii or wicked, I'll hold up to Show. B. S. VOL. II, LONDON: PRINTED rCiR B. CT^OSBY AND CO. STATION'EES'.COURT, LUDGATS-STPEET ; AND SOLD BY THE DOOKSF.LLERS IN BOND-STREET, PIC- CADILLY, AND PALL-MALL; ALSO AT iJRlGllTON, MAR. GATE. CHELITNHAM, HATH, WORTHING, WEYMOUIH, ANDOTHtU FASHIONABLE PLACES. 1809. CONTENTS SECOND VOLUME. Pa0 Admiral Wallingford. . 1 LadyCharlotte'sPromise—MoreCharacters— the Ad- miral's Opinion of Women — a Digression — the Wish of a dying Wife'— a hasty Declaration of the Marquis— he is chastised by his Sister — a most interesting Point discussed — Conversation — the Admiral's Character continued — his Villa — his Hospitability — Portrait of the Admiral ad Vivum— Conclusion. Result of a Saturday Night's Determination. 17 A Charity Sermon — Conversation — Portrait of a Preacher— a Comparison with Self— the Taste of b :2 IV CONTENTS. the Duchess undergoes Alteration — the Marquit, prepares himself to read — Conclusion. The Rlv. Edmind Grosvenor. 25 Choice of a Profession — he his destined for the Church — a polite Denial — a Kind offer of Services — a Pattern of good Sense and Kindness — Edmund is sent to College — he takes Holy Orders — he becomes Chaplain to the Duchess of Davantry — his highly proper conduct — he is an example cf Goodness — his Portrait faithfully drawn — himself a Painter — his Health is impaired — a Manly Re- solution — Madelina's Sorrow and Illness — a Con- sultation — a Discovery — an Inquiry — an Embassy — Success of the Negociation — they are married — their Happiness — Conclusion. More Scandal. 51 Dialogue — Portrait of the French Count — News frona Town — French compliments — polite Nonsense— an improbable Story — aMisunderstanding explained •^a Hint on Mustachios — on smoking a Pipe. CONTENTS. A Board of Criticism, 63 Portraits and Sketches — an Anecdote— Dialogue — a Wife at Home — the faithful Dog — a Discovery —the Ballad — Conclusion. Lady Ravensburg. 73 Portrait of Cecilia — she becomes Lady Ravensburgh — Conclusion. Mathew MoncktoN;, Esq. 79 A Romancer and Necromancer — a Play-writer — a good Companion— his Sobriquet — a Proof of his Goodness— his Delicacy — Reflection— Concl io.i Lady Laureston. 8^ Mental Endowments should fix a fickle Heart — She is superseded by a Mistress —she is obliged to quit the House— and bereft of her Child — a most bar- bS i CONTENTS. barous Conduct — an unnatural Child— his shamefui Crime— her Death — Conclusion. Mrs. Buff in St. James*s Pat?k, 9& A. Monstrous Disappointment. Gradual Reformatiox. idi It increase§ Daily — Advantages of Music — a Spark of expiring Vanity — sentimental Poetry — the last Appeal. AuGUS-jus Rymington^ Esq, 109 Portrait of Lord Linwood— his excellent Wife — mistaken opinion of the Public — Women should not judge too severely of their own Sex — ho\r be- witching is the smile of a sensible Man — let an Ass keep his long Ears— Angels would be our inferiors if there was no Frailty in Man — Con- elusion. CONTENTS. Vll The former Mrs. Ashford. 118 The old School exemplified— Reflections on Prudery — She falls in Love— Articles of War— Elopement — Nature conquered by Passion — the Seducer found guilty— he triumphs at the Verdict — The Reward — generous Behaviour of the Colonel — she marries again — Conclusion. The Hon. IMr. Melvington. ]33 The Work of Seduction — Manners of the French— a Spy — an Appeal to the Law— melancholy Reflec- tions — insulted Wives and Revenge — Conclusion. The Prodigal's Return. 143 Most foul Deception— a nice Distinction— Concla- sion. Mrs. Mois-toNj or the Dissolute Wife. 14T Too fond a Mother — Henrietta in her teens— h-v romping Feats — The Blindness of a Mother — a VI 11 CONTENTS. Portrait from Nature— Love-letters and Balls- she arrives in London — her Conduct there— she catches a Lover — it is not all fair that glads the sight — she Exhibits her Lover in the Country — the Lovers described — a Scheme'proposed — clan- destine Marriage — the Father's Anger relents— bunting Lovers from the Window— the Huntress caught in her own Toils— a Rendezvous — Reflec- tions — Conclusion. The Marquis of Derringbright^ and his termagant mistress. 171 Ungratefulness— Delineation and dead Colouring — she causes a fatal Duel — Ariifices of Coquetry — borrowed Children — some Excuse for her Conduct — another Duel — its fatal Consequences — a spoil- ed Child — Impetuosity, and Injustice — Pity- Cowardness — Reflections— Conclusion, Lord and Lady PENwoRrnr^ or the Victims OF Jealousy. 187 Esteem and Regard solid Basis of Love — the Arg}'Ie Rooms — he is wounded — Paroxysm of Jealousy —she is consigned to her Bed —Three whole CONTENTS. IX Years of Happiness — He sets off for Paris — a appointment — her Misery Disconfirmed — (he Book of Happiness is shut — bad Reasoning — untimely i)eath — Conclusion . The ci-devant Lady Elvira Templedon, 203 Hymen's Scepter is made of Gjld— The Sung of Calumny— She marries — and becomes Poor — Gra- titude easily kindles into Love — a faithless Hus- band makes a faithless Wife — She marries again and is happy — Conclusion. Cursory Remarks. 2i3 Fashionable Deception —a dark Business comfortably- settled — Conversation — Allusions — a nice Point diseussed — Conclusion. The Dowager Lady Eagleton. 221 Insulted Wives, and Revenge — unworthy Husband — a generous Behaviour — shameful Connexion — a Portrait-^Conclusion. x contents. The Duke of Stowbright. 22^ Divcrce and Marriage — aw Jria—ihe Mclomania- Morbus, con Amore — a Research for Harmony in the Arms of Hymen — a .S^o/o — sudden and unex- pected Vision — a grand and everlasting Concert /w/// — Conjugal Meeting : an Jndanie •-iht'b^ltti* mgx\ol xtW&h^di— a Fygue — an Jdagio, too much of a good Thing — Unale, con Gusto. SjR John and Lady Somerville. 241 His old Age— their Protegee, the Dwarf— indulged Kittens — Petit Soupers en Famille — an innocent Shunamite — She makes a proper use of her Influ- ence—Economy to a Degree— Girlish Tricks — Evening Prayers — a sleeping Congregation — a Duet between Sir John and My Lady — the last Stroke to the Portrait. Mh5. Wakefield. 255 Cheap' Entertainments— no Pleasures allowed but empty Visions — her Dress — why should you wear a Wig ? — herFather'sDeaih — what a Change — she passes the Winter in London — she retires to a Friend in theCountry — the cold Addresses of a re- verend Gentleman— Want of Courage — the Advice of a Friend — the Doctor's Destiny is not to have CONTENTS. XI her — a new Suitor — real good Policy — homespun Happiness — Conclusion. Mr. Borrage. 27S Industry and Economy the Parents of Wealth — a Change in his Character — Effects of plebeian Pride — Want of Manners — a Funeral Oration — an Epitapli. The last Evening at Laurel Villa. 281 A Plan for other Lectures— a polite Excuse — Ruins and Vestiges of departed Beauty — Conclusion. The Hon. Amelia Doncaster. 287 A Star in the Firmament of Fashion— a Sketch from Titian— a Masquerade — the Inca unmas^ked — an Advice from the Pillow— a tremendous Resolution —a Lady telling her Age ! shocking— the Secret Imparted to the Tabbies - the General's Retreat- public Opinion — preserving Health and Beauty- Conclusion. xii contents. The State of the Duke of Pvr- mont's Family, after their Re- turn TO Town. 301 Kindnessof her Daughter— the Duchess' sen -bon-point — Imprudence of the Duke — Gambling, and its dreadful Effects — a Consultation with a trusty Steward ~ Continuation — unexpected Generosity — Impatience and Curiosity — a most admirable Be- haviour — Retrospect — Gratitude and Sincerity — the Duke's Moderation — Lady Charlotte is mar- ried—the Marquis does not improve — Conclusion. THE TRIAL OF FATIMA CLARKIS. 319 The Complaint of the Favourite — her Reflexion- Conclusion of her Soliloquy — Retrospect — a Change of Fortune — second Retrospect — third Retrospect — extravagant Pride — ihe rules in the Harem — she swears to be revenged — she is much indulged —-the Aga not found guilty — Explanation of the Frontispiece — Speech of the President — the Ac- cusation — the Camphor bag of Mrs. Lee — the Motion — Cross examination — Animadversions — Verdict— Sentence— Coiiclusion. LONDON CHARACTERS ADMIRAL WALLINGFORD. But I do think it is their hushands' fault If wives do fall." Shakesp. Othello. Ihe next evening that the Duchess and her party were free from company^ it happened to be Lady Charlotte's turn to afford the amusement for the soiree. She begged of her brother to take com- passion on her^ and kindly officiate in her stead. ^' From your incxnaustibie stock of information and novelty/' she said;, '^ and your intercouse with our fashionable world, the Duchess will be more likely to find amusement and inter- est than from any anecdotes in my power to produce. However, if her Grace and your Lordship will but have patience to give. me the hearing, I pledge myself the VOL. II. B LONDON CHIRACTERS. Lady Charlotte's Promise. next time we ^' three meet again/* with- out other company,, to introduce jou to some verj amiable people. The sketches which compose the story are^ I assure you, taken from real life ; but I fear will be thought too romantic to be admitted amongst your worldlings, dear brother : yet as your characters^ though admira- bly pourtrayed, do not generally carry the stamp of any exalted virtues, it may not be ami&s to scatter a few w^orthies amongst them, as well to diversify, as to enlighten and improve. My anecdotes^, however, are not yet arranged^ and that is one rea- son that I crave your mercy this evening; for I mean to give these characters in the true style of novel-composition. Do then, dear, good my Lord, proceed ; your ready and cheerful compliance will best excuse me wdth the Duchess. " If I were not your brother, Charlotte,*' answe;ed the Marquis, '' I should tell youj it was impossible to resist so sweet ADMIRAL WALLINGFORD. More Characters. a pleader : but as I have the honour to boast an affinity which precludes the ne- ceisity of embellished feeling-, and war- rants only plain dealing- and truth, I shall simply say, that on condition of your giv- ing usyoui promised sketches of excellefice, at no very distant period, I will this even- ing become your officiator and advocate." *^ Agreed !** answered Lady Charlotte. *^ And now, dear brother, 7?;6>re charac- ters as soon as you please." ^' Well, but ladies," said the Marquis, '^ tell me, shall they be male or female ? Say, quickly ; for they crowd quick on my memory. Or, shall I ^ive you a com- pound of both ? I have on my list a pro- fligate wife, a wanton widow, a bride elect, and a pattern of conjugal fidelity in the shape of a brave and venerable Admiral." " Oh ! what a promising group," said Lady Charlotte. '' Give us all, or any B 2 4 LONDON CHARACTERS. '^ The Admiral's Opinion of Women. of them, dear brother ; but whatever you do, do'nt, pray^ leave out the dear, old Admual." '' Ob fye ! Charlotte/* ex- claimed the Duchess, '^ to wish to en- danger a virtuous rr.aii^ by associating him with a profligate wife and a wanton -vtidow i I tremble for the AdniiraFs fide- lity, if he is to mix with such a set.'' '^^ It is not by such women as these,*' answered the Marquis, '' that such men as Admiral Waliingford are endangered. Accustomed from the delicacy of his taste and probity of his principles to associate only with the refined, the chaste, and in- tellectual of your sex, he is disgusted with those forward females, whether vir- gins, wives, or widows, who presumptu- ously display their charms^ and thus invite the licentious : — from the professed \7a on he turns with pity and con- tempt ! All young and beautiful women, he ADMIRAL WALLING FORD. A Digression sayS;, are on an eqnaliij^ as far as respects personal influence; but the qualities of the heart, the endowments of the mincl^ education, disposition, and acquirements^ are the disling;uishing ornaments of a chaste and polished woman ; and they alone can fix the heart of man. Mind, dear ladies, these are the Admiral's old fashioned ideas ; for my part^ I know little about these subjects." *' Oh ! brother/' said Lady Charlotte ''' I am sure you have frequentlj^ evinced- the same rectitude of ideas, in regard to our sex ; however fashion may lead you to — " '^ Charlotte," interrupted the Duchess, '' J3a sufier your brother to continue, and do not be so prosing." The Marquis smiled ; but he revered his virtuous sister, and often felt sensible of his mother's impropriety of conduct — b3 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Wish of a dying Wife. lie seated himself between tbe ladies, gentlj put an arm round each of their waists^ and pressing them softly towards him^ he thus continued* *' Admiral Wallingford is the cham- pion of your sex^ and gives it as his opi- nion^ that it is the fault of man that women are not better. He has been the husband of two amiable women ; his first ivife^ with whom he lived sevei'al jears> in the most perfect harmony, on her death-bed requested^ that^ if ever lie mar- ried again^ it might be to her friend ; adding, that she was so convinced of her worth, as to be satisfied sbe was the best calculated being to make him happy* ''Take her, therefore, dearWallingford/'^ said this generous woman, ^' as soon as the grief, I am sure, jou w ill feel for our separation shall be tranquillized. Shewill fill op the void in your heart : you bave nothing to apprehend from a refusal, for Sophia has no prior attachment, and eo- ADMIRAL WALLINGFORD. Continued. tertains the highest esteem fur your ex- cellence. The Admiral had remained a widower near two yean ; when he fu tiilled the dying request of his de^jarted consort, and espoused her friend. This lady is many years younger than her husband ; but that does not operate 80 as to lessen her affection or attentions ; her attachment is individual and ardent ; and he appears to have no pleasure in which she takes not a share. In the service of his country^ Admiral Wallingford has fouglit with a Nelson, a Rodney, and a Howe j and his ve- nerable bark, though no longer afloat, still exists, a lively memento of former achievements, and serves to eternize his fame and glory ! It is not more than six months since I B 4 LONDON CHARACTERS, A hasty Declaration of the Marquis. bad the satisfaction of dining with this amiable veteran, at Ladj Hanwell's ; and I never recollect being luore struck than 1 v^as bj his person and manners: the former bearing the stamp of temperance and regularity, and the latter of unaffected cheerfulness^ sound principles, and manlj integrity. He told us, he was in his se- ventieth year ■ No uninformed person Mould ha\e guessed hira above fifty-five* His profession, as a naval oliicer, fre- quently obliged him to leave the dear treasures of his home for distant climes; but although he has been absent from his family three years together, he has so- lemnly declared, that he was never guilty of a single act of conjugal infidelity ! — This may be literally true ; but I know it is a virtue, when I have the misfortune to be married, that I shall never be able to practise. ^' Dear brother^" said Lady Charlotte^ ADMIRAL WALLINGFORD. He is chastised by his Si-ter. '' I hopejou will alter your opinion; and not be among the numberof those men^ who will not credit this latter circumstance you have mentioned of the worthy Admiral. I see no reason to doubt it; for he, who makes a matter of conscience to regulate his passions^ and hold sacred a solemn con- tract, willj on every occasion, submit to restraint, which love and virtue impose ^ and which virtue will herself repay : in my opinion the best security against irregularities of this order is an attach- ment to an amiable and. virtuous object. Though separate, there is no void in his heart, which is truly devoted, and his imagmation fills every spot with the image of his love : thus circumstanced, an act of mere sensual grossness I should con- ceive impossible: for the man who disho- nours his love, dishonours himself in the most delicatepoiiit of view; and I do assure you, that I tnink there are very few situa- tions, in v\hich I could consider an act of conjugal infidelity as pardonable j and io- B 5 10 LONDON CHARACTERS. A most interesting Point discussed. deed, I think, that \^ hile } ou exact solarge a penalty for a single act of this nature in our sex^ it is the height of injustice to allow so much greater latitude to your's/* *' I wish/' said the Marquis^ '' I had thought of taking out my watch, when Charlotte was at the commencement of her discourse upon male Chastity.*' *' For my part/' said the Duchess, with a weary air, '' I was silent, for I thought the pro7nised novel \\Si£ begun ; and that this was the preface 1 However, Char- lotte, all 3'ou have uttered is very just; our sex will everv one ao^ree to the trutha you have enforced.'^ '' But you will agree, also, my dear Duchess, said the Marquis, ^' that al- though there may often be found men extremely reprehensible, in their treat- ment of those females who are placed under their dominion ; we, also, some- times meet with very naughty women^ ADMIRAL WALLINGFORD. 11 Conversation. who have no plea to offer in extenuation of their indecorous and profligate con- duct : of such a description is the charac- ter I shall next introduce, and — " ^'But stop a little, dear brother ;" quickly in- terrupted Lady Charlotte, '' you have neither told us where the dear old Ad- miral lives ; whether he has any family ; nor have you given a perfect description of his person : we will hear nothing of your profligate wife nor wanton widow, until we have learned all we can of this truly worthy character ; who comes to us, at this moment, like the Angel of Charity, bespeaking mercy for his fol- lowers/' '' I think,'' said the Duchess, '' after the despicable portrait given us lately of Sir William Feather ington, this exalted character of England*s first favourite^ a British Sailor, is admirably con- trasted ; and although T join my vote with Charlotte's in wishing to obtain a Be 12 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Admiral's Character continued. knowledge of every particular respecting this very good man, I own I have no objection to view% occasionally, sketches of a more ordinary cast ; / like the world as it goes ! therefore^ hasten, dear Phi- lip, to fulfil Charlotte's wishes, and then let us have your profligate uifc and wanton widow, as soon as you will/' The Mar- quis bowed his obedience, and pro- ceeded. '' The residence of our naval hero is certainly worthy of remark; being just suitable to the elegance of his mind, and purity of his taste. Since retired from the service, he has built a cottage in the most picturesque part of the Isle of Wight; and which is called The Marine Villa : it is situated in the parish of Niton ; and possesses much symmetry and appropriate beauty. The grounds, though not extensive, are laid out with infinite taste; but the powers of descrip- tion fail in picturing the almost ua- ADMIRAL WALLINGFORD. IS The Admiral's Villa. paralleled loveliness and \ariety of the views which meet the eye in everj direc- tion^ and entrance with delight the admiring gazer. In my tour through the island last Summer^ we stopt at the village of Niton ; and my fellow-traveller^ who knew the venerable owner intimately in his days of fame, sent in his name, with a request to be permitted the indulgence of walking over the grounds. This request brought us a polite in- vitation from the Admiral and his lady, to take an early dinner at the Villa : which we readily accepted. If we were charm- ed with the extreme beauty and neatnesf? which were blended in this enchanting retreat, if we dwelt with enrapt emotion on the splendid and picturesque views which presented themselves at every break in the foliage, we experienced a pleasure no.lesslivelyj though of a difierent nature^ 14 LONDON CHARACTERS. His Hospitality. in the comfort, hospitality, and neatness, which pervaded his little household. At his table was plenty, without luxury : and his equipage and retinue possessed all the grace of unobtrusive simplicity, to- tally devoid of ostentation and show. He has no family ; which is a subject of regret both to the Admiral and his lady ; and the more so as I think I have heard of his having lost a son, brought him by his first wife ; and a daughter^ in her infancy, the produce of this, his second, marriage. These sad privations have thrown an air of interesting thoughtfulness over the otherwise cheerful countenance of the Admiral ; and add to the natural pensive cast of features which distinguish Mrs. Wallingford. This lady has still a very handsome face ; and before her figure had lost its roundness, it must have possessed very considerable beauty : she ADMIRAL WALLINGFORD. 15 Portrait of the Admiral advivum. wasj at the time I saw her, exceedingly gpare ; but her motions were graceful^ and her manners and accomplishments such as usually mark the thorough-bred gentlewoman^ The Admiral is rather of an under size and does not, in heig^it, exceed h\e foot five; his features rather small — ^his eyes merry and sparkling, seem to have not yet lost the fire of youth : his teeth more white and sound than any I ever before witnessed in a person of his years. His complexion is invariably florid, without being coarse, and his hair is entirely white: but never did I behold such per- fect personal neatness in any elderly person as in this most delightful old man : his linen fine, and white as snow, seems to vie with his venerable locks in purity of hue, and his well polished shoes equal in lustre the brightest japan. In his external habit he is invariably true to his colours. A blue coat, he says, is the 16 LONDON CHARACTERS. — . • ' ~- Co»elusion. most appropriate garb for a True Briton ; and even bis servants are never allowed to appear in any otber ; in fact be is trulj the — Virum quem conspexere of Virgilj whose presence has the magic power of silencing the clamorous^ and of dispersing a mob. RESULT OP A SATURDAY NIGHT S DE7ERMJNATI0K, " He was Eves to the Blind." \Js the Saturday niglit following, just before the clock struck twelve^ the Duchess of Pjrmont addressed her chil- dren with^ '^ To morrow we must all be at church." — '' What me ! my Lady Duchess/' said her son. '' Certainly/' replied her Grace ; " not one of our family w^oukl I have absent: there is to be a charity-sermon ; and it is a duty incumbent on people of our rank to give largely." '' I know not how I shall si( the sermon 18 LONDON CHARACTEiES. A Charity Sermon. out,'* said the Marquis ; ''I &m sure this theme of pious begging is so ex- liausted/' The DuchesSj with all her faults^ was generous and benevolent. '' Charit}^ is a theme/' said she, '' on which too much cannot be said ; this too, I shall feel/' added she^, with a sigh ; '' for it is in support of the Blind Asylum lately established in the next town. All mj fear is, as I am told it is rather a popular preacher who is come to display hi.s eloquence on the occasion, that it is some methodistical divine, which I am extremely sorry to say is now the custom to employ for these purposes, in order to draw a large congregation, and thereby increase the charitable fund." '' Then make yourself easy, on that head. Duchess," said the Marquis : " it is a fashionable divine; in the prime of SATURDAY NIGHT's DETERMINATION. 19 Conversation. life^ quite orthodox^ and Chaplain to his Grace the worthy Duke of Daventrj. ''The character of the Reverend Ed- mund Grosvenor, who is to preach to morrow^ in this age^ appears romantic ; for he is really possessed of all the Grandisonian principles of honour and virtue. You know Lord Benton seldom or ever goes to church ; but when Grosvenor preached in London, at a certain fashionable chapel, he always went, when it was his turn to give the sermon : for you must know, that Grosve- nor does not thunder flames and torments in your ear, but allows every man to enjoy the good things of life, and thereby best please his Maker/* '' Grosvenor, Grosvenor V said the Duchess : '' let me recollect, is not that the young man who was so much spoken of, some time ago, who obtained the consent of all her friends^ and married,^ 20 LONDOl^ CHARACTERS Portrait of a Preacher. "W'illi their full approbation, ibat elegant and iriteresting girl, Ladj Mddelina Graliam?' *' Tue \erj saaie, my dear Dtschess ; they are now but Utile kiowii among the fashionables of London ; as they have retired^ for some years, to a remote part of Devonshire; loving and beloved, and willingly, as mutiialh^, quit- ting ihe great world and all its vanities. When you have heard and seen Edmund Grosvenor, I will giwe you his character and history, for it must be dwelt upon to do it justice." Soon after this conversation, the noble family retired to rest ; and on the follow- ing morning proceeded to cliurch. A clear, sonorous voice, a pure pro- nunciation, and elegant language, made Mr. Grosvenor heard with pleasure by every auditor of his numerous congrega- tion : a mild unaffected demeanour, free SATURDAY NIGHT's DETERMINATION. 21 ^^ Comparison v/ich Self. from rant or the afTectation of action, marked the servant of God, aiid iiot the j^ theatrical declaimer. *iis text was— *^ He was eyes to the blind !' — The Duchess was wrapped in fixed attention ; she perceived the mercy, (he enlarged sentiments, of tiiat relio-ion she had so often put away from her thoughts as a rigid intruder^ and which she had so often dared to ridicule: Grosvenor had made it appear to her senses, miid, sweet and bene ii cent ; ever open^ late as well as early, to impart its healing balsam to the mind of the penitent. She felt it all ! her outward sight was gone/ it turned inward on her conduct ; and the sweet hope that Grosvenor held out to her, made her view it without terror/ though with a proper sense of shame. Though a sudden and speedy reform- ation in the conduct of a woman^ who had J-^ 22 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Taste of the Duchess undergoes Alteration. been so much given up to vanity and liissipation, could not be expected, yet «he became, hy degrees, more intel- lectual: when she listened to the faults of her neighbours, she thought, also, of her own: when she heard the characters of the good and virtuous depicted, she felt a sentiment unknown to her before warm her bosom, and a sense of humi- liation, to think how much she was in- ferior : her Charlotte became daily more dear to her ; and she has been known, sometimes^ to warn her son against the vices of fashion, and only to follow implicitlif her elegancies and all those customs which were not actuaUij vicious ! In the commencement of that amuse- ment they had planned to enliven their solitude, she always listened, with a distracted kind of attention, to the sketch of a virtuous character, except that of Lady Laura Pemberton, who was SATURDAY night's DETERMINATION. 23 The Marquis prepares himself to read. always her favourite : but now, they appeared to give her more pleasure thaa those of the scandalous school : aud one evening, when they had found a relaxa- tion from receiving and returning va- rious visitSj she requested to hear the history of the Clergyuian who had so much interested her. Lady Charlotte, who had a very parti- cular talent at catching likenesses, and often amused herself in sketching the phy- siognomy of curious characters whom she had met in society, or abroad in her walks, happened to have delineated the most prominent features of the Reverend Gentleman merely in pencil ; and taking her drawing-board from off the piano- forte, she placed it before the Marquis whilst he was reading. He smiled, and admired the correctness and delicacy of the performance, but said not a word, lest the Duchess should have felt more keenly 24 1.0ND0N CHARACTERS. Conclusion. the privation of sight ; a delicate atten- tion in which her children were very sel- dom deficient. THE REV. EDMUND GROSVENOR ^- Votre pouls inegal marche a pas redoubles. Quelle faussc pudeur afeindre vous oblige ? Qu'avez vous ? — je n*ai rien, — mais — ^je n'ai rien,vous dis-je." BoiLEAU. Ep. lil. Edmund Grosvenor was the only sen of a gentleman of small fortimej but who enjoyed a considerable post under govern- ment. Dying at an early age, he had not yety amongst the many virtues he pos- scssedj that of economy : had his life been spared longer, it might have come in its turn, but it is not, by any means, a quali- fication natural to the season of youth. Little provision, therefore, was left for a widow and three children. The father of Edmund had lived lonir enough to see all the fine seeds of honour, integrity, and feeling, deeply rooted in tlie VOL. II. C 26 LONDON CHARACTERS. Choice of a Profession. lieart of his bo^ : he was gay and vohitile as other bojs^ jet was never heard to mention the name of his Maker without reverence^ although he appeared to con- demn his companions, when they acted wrong, but made every kind excuse for their conduct. AYhile heihis shewed himself possess- ed of so much goodness of heart, the wonderful and rapid progress he made in learning astonished even his teachers, in so young a child: his father, therefore, wished much to bring him up to one of the learned professions. " If,'* said he^ *^ I teach him the law, though I do not mean to vilify any calling, yet the natural and unavoidable chicane attendant on that profession may considerably impair that candour and honesty I fmd in liim, and liis natural diffidence will prevent his ever makhig any figure at the bar 5 if I bring bim up to physic, a heart of the finest feelings will be constantly pained at be- THE REV. EDMUND GROSVENOR. 27 He is destined for the Church. holding the miseries and afflictions of hu- man kind. To the church he will be an ornament; he is just the character to do honour to the truths he will, in future, teach, and enforce by his example.'* So much was this the wish of Mr. Grosvenor's heart, so often did he repeat it, that his widow was resolved to exert every nerve to effect the desire of a much loved husband. College expences, a learn- ed education, she found, on calculation, would so drain her purse, that she feared shemustgiveuptheidea: she examinedber pecuniary stores, she found it impracti- cable, d.nd she waited on those of the no- bility throu;^h whose interest her hus- band had procured the place he formerly held, to request they would recommend her son for it, when he should be of a proper age. She was still a fine woman ; she had all that address and manners in- separable from the gentlewoman; and she was received with courtesy and polite- c2 28 LONDON CHARACTERS. A polite Denial. iicss; her husband was acknowledged to have most ably filled his situation, and they promised rauGh^ but did nothing! A mother finds the education and care of daughters infinitely easier than that of sons. Almost despairing her Edmund would be able to continue in the same situation of life he had ever been accustomed to, that of a gentleman^ si e was crossing St. James's-square one morning, after havir.g received the intel- liiience from a noble lord, winch she had long been prepared for, namely, that so many had applied, tliat it was totally impossible to promise for yonr/g Gros- ^enor the place formerly held by his father; and really he could not think of any thing that could be done for the lad at present, for there were so many younger sons of the nobility, vv licse parents had large families, that they must first be thought of; he was truly sorry^ but so it was. THE REV. EDMUND GROSVENOR. 29 A kind Offer of Services. Just as she was turning the comer of the square^ she fancied she saw a mitred Ecclesiastic, who formerly visited her^ when in prosperity ; she drew her bonnet closer over her face, and was preparing* to pass over on the other side, when she was suddenly taken by the hand, and a well-known voice addressed her in the following manner, *' Do you wish, my dear friend, to shun the man, who has often received favours from you and your worthy husband, and who has feasted at his hospitable board?" She then, as she lifted up her face, dis- covered her mistake; it was no bishop, but a simple, worthy divine, who had been the tutor of a rich nephew of Mrs. Grosvenor's, the possessor of the large estate belonging to her family, but who then took no notice of his impovcrithed aunt, c3 30 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Pattern of good Sense and Kindness. '' 1 am concerned/' said the excellent Mr. Wrighten^ '' to see you in these ha- biliments; I have been long in the coun- try, and heard there a vague report, that my worthy friend, Mr. Grosvenor, was no more ; which was confirmed on my arrival in the metropolis. Happy>, truly happy, shall I feelmyself, if I can be, in any way, serviceable to you, and your young family. Fortune has smiled upon me ; and I am no longer obliged to submit to the caprice of wealth and fa- shion, by following the occupation of a private tutor, or a governor to attend an imperious young lord, on his travels : 1 have not only an excellent living, but a rich relation of my wife's has lately left me a considerable property. This gift I receive, as the donation of ttie Almighty, to be employed in the way as shall best please him ; not in building chapels or churches, nor in leaving it, when I have BO farther use for it, to public charities i THE REV. EDMUND GROSTENOR. 31 Edmund is sent to College. no ; I will endeavour to obtain a seat in heaven, by mending the fortunes of those who cannot toil, and, now sunk from bet- ter days, shrink abashed from the thought of asking assistance." The Reverend Mr. AVrighten had ac- companied the widow home; he stayed and partook of her frugal dinner, and being made acquainted with the state of her circumstances, to which he listened with true interest; and was highly grati- fied to think it was now in his power to repay a part of those obligations he had considered himself under to the late Mr. Grosvenor. He immediately took young Edmund under his charge; sent him to college, and gave him, besides, that li- beral education of a finished gentleman, to which his bright capacity did such in- finite credit. Though intended for the church, young Grosvenor had been tanght to ride, to c 4 22 EONDON CHARACTERS. He takes the Holy Orders. feiiCCj and to perform every military evo- lution ; which gave him^ in the early part of his life^ that martial air^ which Riade it often remarked at Bath^ that he had more the look of an officer in the army than a divine ; this is now a good deal worn oiT^ since he commenced the country clergyman. At a proper age^ Mr. Grosvcnor took orders ; and being without Church-pre- fermentj and having some leisure on his handsj he made the tour of England and Scotland. On his return he took his de- gree as master of arts ; and soon after^ an event happened^ w hich led to that which marked the most interesting and most happy period of his life. The Ducliess Dowager of Daventry w as one of the old Nobility^ who always ^ery properly judged that^ though it was her duty to behave kindly, and affection- Jilely to her inferior?^ yet^ that magnifi' THE REV, EDMUND GROSVENOR. S3 He becomes Chaplain to the Duchess of Daventry. cence and dignity should always be kept up in the style of living that nobles adopt- ed : the churchy also^ she looked upon as one of the firmest pillars of the state ; and that its ceremonies ought to be attended to, with exactitude and preci- sion^ and not hurried over in a slovenly manner. Through the recommendation of some noble friends, young Grosvenor was ap- pointed one of her Grace's cliaplains ; she, at that time, much wished to have one of these her chaplains reside in ber house, and perform duty in her own cha- pel, in that correct way she so desired ; but they v/ere married m.en, and she did not like to take them from their families: pleased with the easy and gentleman-like appearance of young Grosvenor, as one ^^hom her sons and herself could take by the hand in any party, she fixed her choice upon him as her resident chap- la n, €. 3 ■ 34 LONDON CHARACTERS. His highly proper Conduct. On his first arrival, he was shewn into a parlour, where there were two or three blooming young ladies, daughters to the Duchess, seated round a table, and all employed in drawing. On a high music- stool, before a piano-forte, sat a little romp, between twelve and thirteen years of age^ who was incorrectly rattling over the keys, but ceased on the entrance of the stranger : at that time, how little did he imagine this little smiling crea- ture would ever be so nearly and so dear- ly united to him I The Duchess was charmed with her new inmate, who became the reigning favourite of the house ; she found him the profound scholar,without the smallest rust of the College attached to him : for he could trifle, laugh, and talk nonsense, by the hour. The polish of his manners seemed fit only for the drawing-room ; but he would THE REV. EDMUND GROSVENOR. 35 He is a Pattern of Goodness. enter the miserable huts of abject pover- ty, speak kindly comfortable to the in- habitants, and adapt his elegant language to their understanding; while from his scanty purse he would give all he could spare : if those gay pleasures which al- ways have charms for a young and cheer- ful mind, and which he ever loved and took in moderation, if these interfered with the sick couch that required spi- ritual comfort, or the last moments of the dying victim of sickness and indigence, they were readily given up for the per- formance of his duty ; and whilst he was the least rigid, the least puritanical, of any man in the world, an oath was not known by his most intimate friends and connexions ever to have escaped his lips. He had lived three years with this charming family, in the sweetest harmony of society, grateful to, and befriended by, them all. But in Lady Madelina Graham, the youngest daughter, he dis- c6 36 LONDON CHARACTERS. His Portrait faithfully drawn. covered a similarity of taste^ of thought, and sentiment ; Lady Madelina had in- deed found a kindred mind : never was woman possessed of more sensathan she is. Grosvenor was not literally an hand- some man, but he had a great sweetness of countenance, a good figure, and had that elegant ease in his deportment which marked the gentleman. He thought him- self heart-whole ; but he felt it stealing away from him : he found he could not see, with indiPierence, the progressive de- velopement of a mind inclosed in a form, which every year had unfolded some im- proved attraction to the admiring eye ; she wag, then, like the early unexpanded rose, which flourishing under a mild sun, and nurtured with care, daily increases in sweetness and beauty. Honour urged his flight from so dan- gerous an object : should he, said he to himself, plunge unceasing regret into the THE REV. EDMUND GROSVENOR. 37 Himself a Painter. bosom of her excellent mother for hav- ing fostered an ungrateful viper^ who in return would stiiig her ? Shall an union with Lady Madelina ever dare even to find a place in his thought ! He, whose scanty portion would scarce support himself! She, w ho might behold a train of w ealthy nobles at her feet, and choose amongst them at her pleasure. But how could he quit these truly no- ble patrons ? what pretence could he make for so strange a proceeding ? and how ungrateful should he appear in their eyes ? Grosvenor excelled in the art of paint- ing : Lad} Madelina had improved her taste for drav/ing under his tuition ; and he had commenced with a course of in- structions for painting in oil colours : she had began the design of a beautiful church, with a distant view of the state- ly mausoleum of her father. The excuses 38 LONDON CHARACTERS. His Health is impaired. that lovers will make to themselves, amidst the fluctuations of hope and despair, have been experienced by many, and by them can be easily conceived. He must stay till this picture is finished : it would be the height of ill-breeding not to do it ; it would be shocking ! He stayed ; they both worked at the picture ; but the agitation of Grosvenor's mind impeded it's progress. He, who was often the life of their convivial parties, was now pale, absent, and spiritless : Lady Madelina lost her bloom and her appetite ; but no one knew, not even the lovers themselves, for what cause. At length honour, that sacred princi- ple, which had ever filled the breast of Grosvenor, made him resolve instantly to absent himself, and he requested the Duchess to grant him his dismission. THE REV. EDMUND GROSVENOR. 39 A manly Resolution. Astonished;, above measure, that he should ^vish to quit a situation in which he had once been so completely happy ; in which he had received such advan- tages of introduction to friends, who might become his patrons in the future course of his life; where a particular car- riage was assigned him, and which was always, with servants, at his command ; where he had received an abundance of the most costly presents, and every fond attention of friendship : the Duchess could scarce believe what she heard ! Her sons, her daughters, all pressed round him ; intreatcd to know if there was any thing left undone that was in their power to remedy, and that he would only name it. No beloved son, about to quit his paternal home, could be more regretted, or more invited to stay, Madelina, the interesting Madelina, came not forward, like her sisters, but sat pale^ 40 LONDON CHARACTERS. Madelina's Sorrow and Illness. ill mournful silence^ with difficulty re- pressing her tears. Again the Duchess urged ; again she requested to know the cause : ^' Oh ! mj Ladj Duchess^'* said Grosvenor^ '" forgive me ; my honour is still my own^ but I cannot master my affections !" He then quitted the room^ ordered his clothes to be taken to the inn^ and imme- diately set oft' to perform a journey of about fi^iy miles. The Duchess pondered on his last words : '' No doubt/' said she^ " Gros- "ver^or has some tender attachment^ which calls him away." A deep sigh made her turn towards her daughter Madelina, who had fainted : she was carried to her bed, and the next moniing an high fever and faintings made this tender parent tremble for the life of her beloved child. THE REV. EDMUND GROSVENOR. 41 A Consultation. The Duchess was a rnother^ whose chief stud\^ was her children's happiness ; and she looked upon titles or riches in the married state hut as secondary objects, and too dearly purchased with the loss of wedded felicity. Still she entertained not an idea of the affection these young peo- ple had for each other: but, during the paroxysms of her daughter's fever, she soon discovered it, from some frantic ex- pressions ; and when she gradually reco- veredj thoijgh ghe remained some time in a very weak state, she questioned her particularly on the subject. '' Be assured, my love,'* said this ten- ded parent, after hearing her artless con- fession, '' that it would give me sincere pleasure to see you united to so worthy a man as Grosvenor; but never shall it be confessed that my sweet girl harboured love for a man, who might probably re- fuse her : for such are the noble principles of Grosvenor, that, advantageous as an 4t LONDON CHARACTERS. A Discovery. alliance with our family might be to him, if he did not really love you, and you alone, he would refuse the offer.'* ^' I charge you/* replied Madelina, ^' as you respect and value that sense of decorum you have ever taught me, that you never suffer what I have confessed to you to come to his knowledge ; only per- mit me t( live single : but I think, my dear mamma, he would not refuse me. I 5,iii 5ur€ hs I0Y6S ni€t" '^ Has he, then, ever told you so ?" said the Duchess, with dignified gravity. " Oh ! no, never ; he would expire sooner, I am sure, with the secret bu- ried in his bosom. But did you, dear Duchess, mark his last words ? *' Yes ; but I thought they alluded to some attachment he might have else- where." THE REV. EDMUND GROSVENOR. 43 An Ii,quiry. '"Oh! why, then/' said Lady Made- iina, did he cast such a piteous look at me ? Why did he ask your forgiveness for not mastering his affections, and say. Ids honour was slill his ownf " The truth is. Lady Madelina had dis- covered numerous little inadvertencies in Grosvenor, which are easily perceptible to lynx-eyed love. She rejoiced in find- ing herself beloved; otherwise a mind of In^r delicacy would never have encouran*'. ed the inclination she felt for him. The Duchess called a council of her elder children on this subject. She spoke particularly with her eldest son, who was the firm and faithful friend of Grosvenor; they all certainly wished he had more fortune ; but they knew no one more worthy, nor one they would be more ready to embrace, and welcome, as a brother. 4i LONDON CHARACTERS. An Embassy. Lord Edward Graham knew where Grosvenor was g'one ; it was agreed that he should go and make him a visits and sound his inclinations. He proposed a young lady to him^ of large fortune, and who^ it was thought^ had not beheld Grosvenor with indiffer- ence ; Grosvenor coolly replied/*^ No ; he had resolved on leading agingle life/* '' What/' said his Lordship, '' had you ttever any tender attachment ?'' '' Oh! yes/' sighed Grosvenor : '^ but, as she is one I must never think on as a wife, I am resolved never to marry at all/' ^' And will you not tell me who she is ?" said Lord Edward, ^' You will pardon me, my Lord/' re- plied Grosvenor ; '' but I am resolved never to mention her name to any one/* THE REV, EDMUND GROSVENOR. 45 Succes of the Negotiation. '* You are a very resolute man, this morning ; you arc resolved to live single ; and, as you are also resolved never to say whom you are in love with, I think it is a very likely result : but I do really think you are in love w ith my sis- ter Madelina." '' Do you think I would aspire? — '' falteringly uttered Grosvenor ; while his agitated voice, and changing counte- nance, soon discovered the secret. *'Ay/* saidLordEdward/*^ we find these things out better than cither of you ; so come w ith me : I cannot be ofl'cnded at your loving my sister ; Madelina*s a charming girl ; and but come ; have your portmanteaus ready this afternoon ; you must come with me.*' Grosvenor would fain have excused himself; little imagining the happiness that awaited him. 46 LONDON CHARACTERS. They are married. '' You must come/* said Lord Ed- ward ; '' we shall have a very large party next week, who are all your friends : we have a near relation going to be married-, and whose wedding is to be kept at our house. Do not you recollect the Duchess is now without any resident Chaplain ? and I suppose you do not mean to throw away the scarf she has given you?" It required very little more persuasion for Mr. Grosvenor to accompany his noble friend to a family, where he yet found himself so beloved. iFoining his hand with that of the blushing Lady Madeliiia, Lord Edward said, '' There, Duchess, do not you think that it would be a great pity this lady and gentleman should live single all their lives?'* The many soft scenes which followed are better passed over ; they are interest- THE REV. EDMUND GROSVENOR. 4? Their Happiness. ing only to lovers: tliej are insipid when related to a third person, either from the tongue or the pen ; because neither can do them justice. Lady Madelina Graham and the Re- verend Edmund Grosveaor were soon made happy in each other ; and Lord Francis Graham^ her youngest brother, gave her away to her enraptured and grateful husband. Never was an union more productive of lasting and uniform happiness ; Church- preferment, soon after, enabled Grosve- nor to live easy, but not in splendour; he had married, not only into a noble but into an opulent family, so that he was never likely to be poor ; but so much was requisite to be given towards making some figure in the world, that a plan of economy was necessary to be observed ; to this that amiable and best of women. Lady Madelina Grosvenor, could accom- modate herself. She ever made a gen- 48 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. teel and fashionable appearance ; but her beneficent hearty delighting in doing £:ood, made her deprive herself of many of the elegancies of life^ to be what she had been^ from her earliest youth, the patroness of the poor. In a few years they found themselves the delighted parents of a numerous fa- mily; and^ in concurrence with his Made- lina's opinion, whom on every occasion he consults, they deemed it best to reside at his living in the country^ from the in- creased expencc of living in London, to support that figure in life their rank re- quired. There they have now resided sometime, in elegant rural happiness— -in true do- mestic comfort. Lady Madelina has lately lost her valued mother : a scarf soon becoming vacant in the Duke's es- tablishment, Mr.Grosvenor was made his chaplain. THE REV. EDMUND GROSVENOR. 49 Conclusion. He has lately ^aken bis degree as "Doctor of Divinity ; a visionary mitre hangs over his head > but he often quotes Sterne, on that occasion^, and says^ '^ it will not fit." VOL. 11. MORE SCANDAL, &c. Mobilitate vigct, viresque acquirit cundo. ViR«. Well, my sentimental sister/' said tlie ^Marquis of Wallham, yawning; '' is not that a character after your own heart? For my part, I am as weary of reading as of writing it, it is so like a romance 5 and yet every word is strictly true/* '' I have felt much interested/' said the Duchess ; '' not one syllable have I lost:" '^ And sincerely do I wish/' said Lady Charlotte, '' that these characters were not so rare." '' But/' said the Marquis, '' scarce one amongst the little world but what are firmly persuaded that Grosvenor ran away with Lady Madelina ; and that, she be- ing a favourite daughter, the Duchess d2 52 LONDON CHARACTERS. Dialogue. of Daventrj \^as induced to pardon this imprudent step/' «' My dear Philip," said the Duchess, *' what can possibly signify their opinion to people of fashion?" **" A great deal^rny dear Duchess ; the middling and lower classes of people make up the greatest part of the bulk of man- kind : they form, as one may say, the chief mass, and from them originates, in the first instance, all the news we hear, sometimes true, but mostly false : thus, whatever is done amiss by people in our situation is exaggerated ten-fold ; while among those who are possessed, in any de- gree, of what Charlotte calls virtue, it is magnified and multiplied as ii passes from tongue to tongue." ^^ What an encouragement to us," said Lady Charlotte^ ^' to do always what is right!** MORE SCANDAL. 53 Portriiit of the French Count. Scarce had she finished the sentence, when thev were surprised hy the sudden announceaient and quick-followed en- trance of the Count de Pernonville, the fa- vourite emigre. They were, indeed, all rejoiced to see him ; so pliahly devoted was he to all their characters, that no one seeins: throu^'h the selfish deceit which actuated him, (for in reality he de- spised them all), they every one liked the good-humoured Coiuit. He was possessed of a fine person ; and his address was entirely divested of French grimace : lie had all that charm- ing politeness fm- which a well-bred, well- educated, Frcnchmair i^ so remarkable ; gay and playful with the lively ; he could display his scientiiic knowledge with the learned and grave. Lady Charlotte ad- mired him for his virtue and fortitude under misfortunes; the Duchess, for the zest he gave by his wit and well-pointed satire in fashionable anecdote ; and the 54 LONDON chahacters, Ne'vs f;oni Towa. Duke find his son found hiin that accora- ir.odating and useful friend^ for a little pecuniary reward^ which Miey knew liot, iVom his weli-plaancd stratagems, how to dispense with: and while he was most reqinsil(%and most devoted tothcm^ they, in factj had less friendship for him than the rest of the family. After suffering some elegant refresh- ment to be pressed upon him, he fore he accepted it, and to which, when accept- ed, he did ample credit, he took the Duchess's favourite pug-dog in his arms ; and, after givig it several fervent em- braces, said, '^ Pray, my dear Lady Duchess, what do you tliirik the town and its environs now ring with ?" Old habits caiinot easily be laid aside; the Duchess'slove of scandal returned with ^11 its wonted energy. — ''^ Tell me," said she, eagerly, '' is there any thing new ? I declare I am moped to death in this stupid MORE SCANDAL. 55 French Compliments. place ; and I am^ would you believe it ? growing almost as romantic and as senti- mental as my daughter ! *' The Count was a little puzzled ; the ladies were both present, and he wished to pay his court to both : he knew the Duchess always wished to make Lady Charlotte younger than she was^ and her blooming and innocent appearance made no one believe she could be three and twenty. '' My dear Lady Duchess/' said he, *' any one who sees you must know how very young your daughter is; and the romantic enthusiasm of virtue is pecu- liarly interesting at her early years : but her Grace of Pyrmont unites to her knowledge of the world, that charming maturity of beauty, which entitles her to be as saucy as she pleases : J^'est il pas vraif Ma helle Darner* continued lie, with a laugh. '' The virtue of D 4 56 LONDON CHARACTEHS. Polite Nonsense. Madame la Duchesse is seated deeply in her mind ; but fashion docs not permit it to he blended in her conYersation." '* Come, tell us jour news, Pernon- ville;*' said the Marquis, '" and don't give us a speech as long as a sermon/* '' Mais, mon cher Mofisietir le May- quiSj ''I speak to the ladies ! I can never find my discourse too long when addressed to them. But it is currently reported, that Lord Clayton, who has been so long constant to his favourite dure amie, and who has by her a very large family, has fallen in love with one of his daughters." '* Shookiog !" said the Duchess, ''I hope it is not true." " I could venture to say," said the Marquis, '' that it cannot be true. The Persians had a law^ that, when a MORE SCANDAL. 57 An improbable Story. man killed his son, he was not to suffer deaths if the mother had ever been frail ; because it was impossible it could be his son, or he would not have been so un- naturaL So I think,, in this case, it is not credible that a father can feel any attachment of the kind to his daughter, if she were really his own ; for nature forbids and revolts from such an idea. '' And I will tell jou, that I did hear a vague and ridiculous report about what JOU mentioned just before I came into the country ; but it was so laughable, and so very outre, that, as my scandalous chronicle never departs from truth, I did not give it a place. Why, my good Count, Lord Clayton's children are mostly boys: his oldest daughter is a child of about eight years old.'* " Cest possidle^" said the Count; ^ but, from what 1 understand^ it is one d5 58 LONDON CHARA0TERS. A Misunderstanding explained. of the Miss Buttons, the daughters his lady had by a /ormer protector/' *' That can be/* said the Marquis, '^ and that is bad enough, but not quite so bad : and I must say^, that I recollect perfectly well, at that birth-day fete that he last gavC;, his lordship was particularly attentive to one of the Miss Buttons, and never quitted her scarce the whole time I was there : but what of that ? The mother seemed highly gratified that he should so notice her daughters; and, as I was just observing to the Duchess, before you came in, that every thing which people in an elevated rank say or do is so exaggerated, that I suppose, soon, I shall not be able to look at my mother or sister, without having it said I am in love with them.'* '' That clievelure of your's, my Lady Duchess^ is superb/* said the Count : M3RE SCANDAL* 59 A Hint on Mustachios. '^ Pray do jou mean to adopt the new Spanish fashion of wearing mustachios ?" ^' What can vou mean ? you strange creature V* said the Duchess. '^ Oh ! I assure jour Grace^ two dash- ing Dowagers of joiir acquaintance mean to emheliish their countenances with them : the Dowager Ladj Colverton^ realljj as her's en train, *' But as I am not yet a dowager," said the Duchess, '' I do not mean to follow so ugly a fashion. You know how great an admirer I am of every thing that is done by the lovely Duchess of Mesborough^ but I never could bri ig my- self to smoke a pipe with her.*' ^' And yet she was in the very attitude of smoking when the Duke first fell in love with her j which gave rise to a number of low puns and idle reports;'* said the Mar- quis, [' Not but what I am certain, that^ D G 60 LONDON CHARACTj^RS. On Smoking a Pipe. to get her daughters well married^ her Grace of Aliingford would teach them to do any thing. She knew the Duke of Mesborough loved his bottle and his pipe with it; and she knew^ also^ that h^ dreaded the taking a wife who might be a restraint on those delicate pleasures. The pretty Duchess^ therefore, we may imagine, learnt to smoke by way of self-defence/^ The conversation began to flag : the Duchess grew weary, for the Count was by no means brilliant; the town was so empty, that little scandal was abroad ; and the Count's visit was to the Marquis, for whom he had been carrying some schemes into effect, about twenty miles off: after dinner the happy opportunity offered of his speaking to the Marquis in private. In the morning they both set off i6 carry some love- intrigue into execution MORE SCANDAL. 61 Conclusion. against an innocent country girl; and^ perhaps^ to plant an ever-rankling thorn in the bosom of a careful niother» Such^ dost thou proudly imagine. High Birth, are thy privileges ; and such^ fashion and fortune, are thy continual practices in this^ our nineteenth cen- tury ! BOARD OF CRITICISM, -Odoi* canum tis." Vi rg . O^'E evening that the Duchess was gone out to a concert at Lord Winterhurst's Villa, with Lady Charlotte, the Commit- tee down-stairs resumed their critical operations ; J\Irs. Blump in the chair. Had we an Hogarth* s or even a Smirke's pen- cil, we could give a good sketch of the Iiousekeeper, with her lace mob, her true India silk handkerchief thrown with care, and folded with art, on the im- mense promontory of her bosom, her long-sleeve-gown tuck*d up as it used to be the fashion fifteen years ago, from Cheapside eastward to the Minories^ and 64 LONDON CHARACTERS. Portraits and Sketches. her purple jane-shoes peeping signifi- cantly under the half-seen dimity-petti- coat, and forcing on the sight of the company the instep brilliancy of a mock- diamond in the center of a rose-knot. Mr. Spruce, true to his name, had on his red kerseymere waistcoat edged with brown fpr, aud sat by her with fold- ed arms, his left thigh thrown negli- gently over the right that he might more gracefully bend on Mrs. Blump's side, when she chose to address him, wliich was always done in a sort of an he- sitating, stammering kind of a mode. The rest of the tea-party might also give an humorous turn to the descriptive power, but we shall hasten towards the re- citing of an anecdote not unlikely to please our readers ; it was given by Mr. Spruce, who knew the parties well, and could swear to the truth of the transactions. He began thus, without any other THE BOARD OF CRITICISM. O^ An Anecdote. ■^ ' ■ ■ =^ preamble than slightly touchiHg Mrs, Jjlump'sleft arm withthe back of hisright hand. " Let me tell jou a droll story. Mr. Ford^ the linen draper, of Mount- street, had for the partner of his life a very handsome young woman, whom he had married at Hereford, the county-town where he comes from. By her he had two children, but they were both gone, likelyto their native place above, that is to Heaven; for the dear cherubs had not lived long enough to imbibe the slighest drop ofthis world's wickedness/' '^^They died,'' said Mr. Dubois/' *^''as we call it, en has age, I suppose?" ''Very likely," said Miss Betty ; and the other maid, by an assenting nod, let them ail perceive that she understood Mr, Dubois. *^'His wife^ as I said before, was young and handsome : she had brought him property, and they might have lived very happy, but—" Mrs, B, I suppose, or, however^ I am 66 LONDON CHARACTERS. Dialogue bold to say, that she was something of a coquette, and he waxed jealous. Mr, Spruce, No. She acted always with the utmoi^t propriety, and her hus- band was perfectly satisfied on that bead. Betty, Then she was a Methodist, or a Moravian, or a Baptist, or a Papist, or some such \ile thing, that never think as other folks do, and pretend to be exclusively right in their opinion. J\lr, Dubois. DiabU comrne vous y allcz ! (he would have sworn by some other words, but he never uttered a B. or an F. before. the ladies.) Mr» Spruce, No. You are all wrong in your surmises : she would have had all the good qualities desirable in a wife/ THE BOARD OF CRITICISM. 67 A Wife at Home! had she not been in the uhole extent and sio-niiication of the word — a Scold. O' ,Mr. Dul)ois. Man dieu ! I pity him. J\Ir$. Blump. Ilowoverj as people sav, that's better than worse ; well then. Mr. Duhois* Eh ! bien ! voyons done. Mr, Spruce, He bore it extremely well for a long timej till he found that he might pass an evening, afier shutting up shop, more comfortably at a Coffee- house than at home, where all questions were peremptorily settled by his wife^ vcithout a dlvisiGn. One evening as he was comirg from his favourite place of rendcz vous, he mct^ by mere chance in- deed, a well-dressed young woman, of an elegant figure, against wliosc elbow lie brushed inconsiderately. The com- motion threw her fan off her hand into the H)ud, and he was picking it up with a 68 LONDON CHARACtESi?. 'U.' .■■■■■, > : — ■■ . n The faithful Dog. thousand apologies^ when the moon, in her fillip peeping from under a eloud, darted the briiliancj of her silver rays oa the Ladj's face^ and manifested beau- ties of an uncommon rate. The electric shock of lightning is not so sudden as the impression it made upon Mr. Ford;, and the effect of it was an irresistible propen- sity to follow the fair where she chose to lead him. A fine Newfoundland do^ used to accompany him wherever he went; andj therefore, faithful to his master, he trod upon their steps till they arrived at a good-looking house at the corner of a square. The bell was rung by the lady ; a well dressed footman opened the door; but expecting no fees from the quadru- ped, took care not to let him in. A room elegantly furnished, with an ottomane jiiaced opposite to the chimney-piece, re- ceived the w ell-pleased visitors, who took a light collation, and in their chat forgot the hour. It was then bctwetn two and three in the morning. Tired, and well W\ Zord Tiad a Do'g and the Do^ vj>€dj to fbHoiv 7ns Ifaste?^ wJiere ei'er lie went - •< , Tide. Vol 2.:^a^e 5d. THX BOARD OF CRITICISM. 69 A Discovery. he mighty with waiting, scraping, gap- ing, and howling under the portico, th« dog thought best to go home ; and arriv- ing there, threw by his appearance the whole family in a fret, and Mrs. Ford in violent hysterics. '' What is the mat- ter?'' says one. *^ Master is murdered, sure enough," says another; '^^andSancho comes to tell us." '^ Ah!" said the shop- man, '' let me go with the dog, Fil bet you any thing he will lead me straight where master is.*' Unfortunate thought ! however, he sets off, and the dog leads the ^ay: what was his surprise, when after following his too faithful guide, he found himself at the door of a certaii^:. house of bad fame, not quite unknown to him. His hand was lifting up the knocker, when the door, as if spontane- ously, opened, and his master half naked and abashed stood before his eyes. A great reward wag offered, by the way^ to the shopman to cook up a story to satisfy Mrs, Ford, and the matter was hushed, till 70 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Ballad. Mr. Ford suspecting that this young ser- vant of his had hinted the truth to his "wife^ he turned him out of doors/' The Duchess's chariot made arumhling noise in the neighbourhood, the Com- mittee dissolved, and, since what reflec- tions and judgment were past upon the transactions did not come over to our knowledge^, the reader will forgive us if we say no more upon the subject. How- , ever, soon itfter this, a ballad was com- posed by some wag of the district^ and sung all over the town by the street- warblers of the night. It was to the tune of ^' Down derry down,*' and began thus: ** Mr. Ford had a dog, and the dog used to follow " His master wherever he went ; ** And safe bring him home, when by chance he got mellow, " And be praised for his wonderful scent. " Derry down, down, down, derry down. THE BOARD OF CRITICISM. 71 Continued. ''One night as the master and dog went a roving, *' And the moon shone full briglit on their back -, " The master's sharp elbow, too hastily moving, ** To a lass that went by gave a thwack. <"< Derry down, down, down, derf y down,* The rest of this most interesting ballad will be found in the Long-lane and Grub- street repertory of popular songs. L\DY RAVENSBURGII. *' Ut ameris, amabilis esto." O rtst. 1 HIS fortunate Lady was^ as well as her two sisters, formerly engaged in a very public walk of life; namely, that of the theatrical profession : they had the happi- ness to be possessed of one of the worthiest and most careful of fathers, by whose fond paternal care, they were vigilantly protected, while they followed that dan- gerous occupation, for females so young and beautiful as they were. Never did he permit their detention in that school of gaming and dissipation, the green- room, but diligently and unremittingly waited till the performance was over^ sheltering them under his fond, parental wing, till he lodged them safe at home. LONDON CHARACTERS. Portrait of Cecilia. Caliminy, env}% detraction, all their sister fiends, could never, with their united force, raise one injurious report against the virtre, modesty, and truly correct conduct of the Miss Daltons. Cecilia, the present Lady Ravenshurgli, was hy no means equal to her sisters in theatrical talents : they were eminent in their profession; hut Cecilia had no- thing but the beauty of her person to recommend her; and that was sufficient in the eyes of the very gallant manager of one of the two principal theatres. A want of animation, little idea of the part assigned her, and a small portion of a provincial accent, which, though agree- able and, perhaps, fascinating in itself in private company, will not suit the nice ears of a London audience, seemed inse- parable bars to her rising to any degree of eminence in her profession ; yet. LADY RAYEN&BURGH. 75 Continued. though she could not interest as a first- rate actrcssSj her youths her modestj;, and the loveliness of her face and figure, never failed of exciting admiration : and though they were sorry to see those parts as- signed her, from the partiality of the Manager^ to which a Siddons or a Smith alone can do justice, yet they gave her their plaudits, because they saw that she, unaffectedly, did her best: that she looked, at least, what Juliet, what Bel- videre, and Moniniia must have been, " Sweet to the sense, and lovely to the eye." Lord Ravensburgli inherited from .his sensible mother a large share of her li- berality of mind ; he well knew, that no stigma, no meanness, attached itself to the birth of the beauteous Cecilia, but that her ancestors were really gentlemen ; and by raising her to the dignity of a coronet^ he should reflect honour on his own conduct, and ensure to himself the gra- titude and affection of a woman, whom e3 76 LONDON CHARACTERS. She becomes Lady Ravensburgh. his heart told hira he must ever love; that cruel and indignant idea of wound- ing her virtuous feelings by a proposal of an handsome settlement, without the forms of marriage, never found a place in his truly noble mind : he thought only how happy he should feel, to snatch her from a scene of life so little calculated for her artless character, and where her beauty was exposed to dangerous and continual temptations ; how he should delight a father, zealously anxious for his child's virtue, by thus elevating his, then, sole unmarried daughter to rank and affluence i The offer of the generous nobleman was received with transport ; and Lord Ra- vensburgh had the peculiar satisfaction of finding, that inclination for his person, more than interest, or the splendid visions of rank and riches, actuated that consent which his Cecilia gave, to accept the high honours he has now raised her to. LADY RAVENSEURGH. 77 Conclusion. Lady Ravensburgh is elegant and mu- nificent^ but sbe does not seek or court popularity : we do not see her assviniin<^' tbe ton of tbe high^ dasbing btile of fasbion, nor does she lose tbe amiable and unobtrusive Cecila Daiton in Lady Raven sburgb. Affable^ beloved, doing honour to her high situation in life, she is the deligbt of her beloved Lord, and the favourite of his family : she lives, in splendour, as be- comes her rank ; but she does not exceed it ; and we have reason to tbink. Lord Ravensburgh will never regret, but re- joice in that hour which induced him to raise her to it. e3 tSlATTHEW MONCKTON, ESQ. " What are these So withered, and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants of the earth." Macbeth. Tills Gentleman is but a young man* though he has long- had a scat in the senate. He is well known for the great eminence of bis literary talents^ though they are of a very eccentric kind. It is credibly asserted, and believed by many, that when he was a child, an old woman, who was a great favourite in the family, in which she had lived as a nurse, used to be as fond of relating to him, as he was fond of listening to them, various terrific stories of ghosts, witclies, and all the frightful train of hobgoblitis (hat she could conjure up from the old musty stores of her memory, and which had been told to her when she herself was a child. E 4 80 LONDON CHARACTERF^ A Romancer and Necromancer. As he grew oklcr^ he soon evinced a very studious turn of mind; but all the leisure hours he could find he devoted to the perusal of old popish legends^ the defence of the existence of witchcraft, the science of magic, the corporeal ap- pearance of the devil, and such like works. The happy turn of elegance which was, however, seated innately in his mind, his charming ear for a peculiar, harmonious, though irregular, species of poetry, evin- ced themselves in some sweet ballads, which, though they all breathed super- natural agencj', yet charmed, interested, and allured every one who had any taste, in spite of their better reason, to be de- lighted with them. He has written many volumes ; and volumes which evince the deep science of the writer; which contain bold, forcible, and elegant language; but which are MATTHEW MONCKTON, ESQ. 81 A Play-writer. never free from ghosts^, magical incanta- tions^ and a long train of horrors. Crimes of the most enormous dye^ bleeding spec- tresj and demons with terrific claws^ shock the imagination^ but almost incline the readerto believe in demoniack fascination, bjthe v/itchery of Mr.Moncton's works^ which impels them to read on, because he continues^ by his charming language, by the sweet poetry he mingles, and by the peculiar interest of the story, to ren- der it impossible for the most morose stoic to close the book, and say, '' 1 am tired of such improbable nonsense, I will read no farther;" no, we feel rather inclined to believe in magic, and are obliged to confess, that she draws her irresistible circle with Monckton's pen round the inchanted readers ! In his theatrical writings he has not been very successful ; for this taste pre- vailing through all his works, it is not £5 82 LONDON CHARACTERS. A good Companion. adapted to the veluti in speculum^ >\hich should always be kept in \iew^ as inuch as possible^ on the stage. In these pieces which have succeeded of this incompar- able author's, except in a Venetian story, we own we have been disappointed: a mother's bosom continually pouring a stream of blood creates an horror inde- scribable, and an uncle being the murder- er of hisbrother, and wadingthroughevery sanguinary crime, which nature shudders atjfor the possessionof his niece, shcckslhe mind, and throws a terrific gloom over the piece, ill calculated to please a British audience. Every one has his peculiar forte ; if this legendary style is really Mr. Monck- ton's, he does not bury his talent j for it increases ten-fold with ev6ry new work he publishes. He can be gay and cheerful in private life ; why throw such horror into his MATTHEW MONCRTON, ESQ. 83 A good Comi)anion. writings ? He has even ridiculed and pa- rodied some of his ghostly skeleton scenes himself, which shews him to be pos- sessed of sterling irony, and original wit : we think, if he would compose a bur- lesque novel on the existence of appa- ritions and art magic, it would afford that infinite pleasure to the reader, which his works, when even undivested of all that fear-creating trash, cannot yet fail to give. One of his most popular works has cha- racterized him with a ludicrous sobriquet, by which' he is universally known; every one speaks of him by it; and a bookseller^ with aserious face, recommends the work to his customer's perusal, by giving the author that appellation, which he gained from depicting the crimes and priestly pride of a popish recluse. His private character is truly amiable; and as free from blame as erring mortality E 6 84 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Proof of his Goodness. is capable of being : indeed^ instances have occurred^ which serve to shew that his yiviue, according to the system of morals adopted in this age, is as romantic as his ideas, though not so visionary : several might be adduced; we will beg leave to quote one only, which sufficiently proves the grandeur and disinterestedness of his mind. The widow of a Colonel in the army had written some poems and works of fic- tion^ which were approved by the public, and which shewed the taste and feeling of the writer. Anencourager of literature, and possessed of all that true liberality of sentiment, which does not wish, with masculine selfishness, to reserve and mo- nopolize all the pride of learning to the male species alone, he earnestly wished to serve the lady, whose writings had pleased him, but to whose person, only as far as related to what he had heard of it, he was an utter stranger. He heard MATTHEW MONCKTON, ESQ. 85 His Delicacy. she had a son, and he knew how expens- ive is the education of boys to a mother who had but a limited income, and to which what she might add by the exer- tions of her talents was very precarious and fluctuating; he, therefore, took the charge and sole expence of her boy's education upon himself; and gave her to understand, through the medium of a friend, that he meant that education should be of the most liberal kind. The mother of course was impatient to testify her gratitude; and wrote to her be- nefactor, whom she had never yet seen, to permit her, personally, to express tohim the sense she felt of his beneficence. He an- swered her letter in the most respectful terms; in which he told her, that here- quire«^ no thanks for what had afforded such infinite satisfaction to his own mind, but begged leave to remark, that her fine person arid his owii youth might subject her to the idle and malevoieut slanders of 86 LONDON CHARACTERS. Reflections. the world: he, therefore, requested to de- cline an interview. Say, ye libertines of fashion, if ever generosity and benevo- lence were the inniates of your bosom, '' to cover your multitude of sins," say, would ye have acted thus? No ! perhaps, the line person of the widow might ra- ther have been the chief motive which actuated such as you to patronize her son! Mr. Monckton has generally in his writings, and always in his actions, mo- rality in view ; he chiefly paints the ra- pid gradation of vice in the human mind, and how its first approaches ought, conse- quently, to be avoided; but he too often makes virtue suffer : and though his vi- cious characters are awfully punished in the end, yet through them the virtuous experience the most dreadful and bitter calamities. The human mind early receives those impressions^ which mark either the ac* MATTHEW MONCKTON;, ESQ. 87 Continued. tioiiSj the thoughts,, or the writings^ when it arrives to maturity ; we do not positively assert as a fact^ what we have heard, of Mr. Moiiekton taking his early bent from the superstitious tales of an old nurse^ but it Js more than probable that such report has its foundation in veracity^ The impulse he has received and taken is not a guilty nor destructive one^ but it has in it a species of absurdity ; and had he not the advantage of uncommon fine intellects, and finished education, what he imbibed in his infancy might have rendered him ridiculous, weak- minded, and the continual victim of blind supcistition. We are naturally too much inclined to believe whatever is mysteri- ous or supernatural; and this observation^ which we heard often from the mouth of one of the highest characters this nation possesses, in this moment is but too true, that is, '' let a man invent a story, sup- pose it as ridiculous as possible, as incre- 88 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. dible as ridiculous^ if, by way of amuse- ment, or through any wish of quizzing his friend, he relates it, and hawks it about, and often in company, the proba- ble, natural, unavoidable consequence will be, that he, at last, will believe it LADY LAURESTON. '* Grand Dieu ! qae le cur d'unc mere Est un bel ouvrage du tien ! Ber Go, in a tender husband's bosom reign. And tai^e the laptures of his country's love ! GRADUAL REFORMATION. 10? Sentimental Poetry. ** Since first we met, I watch'd your ev'ry look, '' My dearest hopes, your heart's fond love to share j '' Each \vish» each motion, from your eye I took, *' Liv'd on your smiles, and griev'd in all your care. I challenge all the spite of sland'rous tongues ; Why cast me off? — What is the cruel plea ? Ah ! Heav'n forgive the cause of all my wrongs. The artful fair, that steals your heart from me ! Jf aught you heed the voice of future time. Say, will it shew the brave, the manly part. To wound that breast, wliose weakness is its crime. And urge your triumph o'er a broken heart ? I to a gen'rous public leave my cause ; Be mine the task, and suffer and to die ! Be your's the worthless minion's vain applause. Too dearly purchas'd by reflection's sigh. " Alas ! you heed me not, you shun my sight ! *' Vain are my plaints, no more this face can charm I " Yet once my soft endearments could delight, " Yet on my lips your vows of faith are warm !" ** By that true faith you at the altar swore, " Ey all the mem'ry of endearments past, " Yet ONE APPEAL remains ! — one trial more,— " And trust mc, that appeal shall be my last I f6 108 LONDON CHARACTERS. , . . ' ' ... ■.■*^ The last Appeal. " Look on that smiling babe, first pledge of love 5 " Her bosom has not learnt, like mine, to bleed j '^ Yet more her helpless innocence may move, " Her speechless eloquence may better plead.'* C— e. After the Duchess had heard the above lines, with an emotion of virtuous tender- ness for the suffering writer, and a regret, not unaccompanied with indignation, that one really alive to feminine merit should be yet blind to such intrinsic worth, she asked her daughter if she had any thing new to read to her ! '' Nothing aery new," replied Lady Charlotte, "^^but amongst other papers, I found some sketches of characters penned by Philip ; which, if you please, I will now give your Grace:'* and she did, nearly in the fol- lowing manner. AUGUSTUS RYMINGTON, ESQ, '* Dat veniara corvis vexat censura columbas. Xo dispel the mists of prejudice ; to re- scuetheliuman character from undeserved calumny, and destroy, if possible, the venal froth of partial and fulsome adula. tion, have been the chief motives which have actuated the writers of these pages. Such laudable reasons make us step forward to mitigate the odium cast upon the principles of Mr. Rymington, from the unmerited and cruel reproaches which the partizans of the debauched Lord Lin- wood have so unmercifully heaped upon him. To deviate a little from the present object of this biographical sketch, we 110 LONDON CHARACTERS. Portrait of Lord Linwood. beg leave to remark^ en passant, that Lord Linwood was repel 1 ant in his per- son, depraved in his niind^ and by no means tolerable in his manners^ nor in his outward deportment^ when the lovely Miss Northwood was sacrificed by pa- rental avarice to him, just after he had attained the age of fifty, she that of nine- teen. She became elevated in rank ; but there is yet a more dangerous eminence for a female to have gained an ascendency to, often dangerous both in its causes and effects ; from its stupendous height, the fall from it becomes not only doubly de- structive, but the debased victim finds no helping or pitying hand to afford the smallest comfort or assistance, when fatally precipitated from the exalted summit. To drop all metaphorical expressions, we mean that overgrown pride, which is AUGUSTUS RYMIXGTON, ESQ. HI His excellent Wife. baneful in its effects^ because it teaches the deslired victim of a wealthy^ but ill- assorted unioiij blindly to bow to any de- cree inflicted by parental authority ; and to bend to it^ without any painful acqui- escence^ but to let filial duty swallow up every particle of regret. Such was Miss Northwood when she became the apparently happy bride of Lord Linwood; and such she long con- tinued the pride of her seXj while his Lord- ship was the envy of his own. A series of libertinism had^ more than his years, reduced Lord Linwood to only the shadow of what he had been ; lady Linwood proved herself to him a tender, an excellent, and unremittingly attentive nurse; and, to perform this office to worn-out and yet continued depravity, seemed to be the inevitable doom of Lady Linwood. 112 LONDON CHARACTERS. Mistaken Opinion of the Public, Fatally, for her future peace, and the tarnishing of her hitherto immaculate fame, but happily for the replenishing of his Lordship's coffers, he renewed an ac- quaintance, when abroad, with a gentle- man, between whom and Lord Linwood there had long before existed an intimacj : this gentleman was Mr. Rjmington, Mr. Rjmington has been branded with the character of being a man, whose chief aim is the seduction of the female mind and person ; and that, to pursue this his favourite system, is his sole de- light : the result of his conduct, on a late occasion, shews the accusation to be groundless, and the invectives of his ene- mies bitter and malicious. Though he deviated, in a very glaring instance, from the path of rectitude — and who is blame- less ? he has acted like a man of true honour in the conclusion ; and has made every reparation in his power. He was AUGUSTUS RYMI^SGTON, ESQ. IIJ Women should not judge too severely of their own Sex. not^ as has been suspected^ the cherished guardian placed by an adorijig husband over a frail wife's honour ; but particular circumstances^ and those of a nature to befriend her Lord^ brought them fre- quently into each other's society ; when his Lordship's situation^ at that time^ ren- dered it impossible he could be present, and the visits of Mr. Rymington to his Lady were those which were the neces- sary result of friendly exertions to draw Lord Linwood out of his predicament. Mr. Rymington has been falsely accus- icd of pointing out to Ladj^ Linwood, how grossly she was injured, and how shame- fully neglected by her Lord : we believe the severe convincing proofs she expe^ rienced needed not the aid of any friend to 'point them out to her ! nor w^as the polite and graceful Mr. Rymington the man to advice her '' to take her revenge/* as some hireling scribblers have affirmed. 114 LONDON CHARACTERS, How bewitching is the Smile of a sensible Man. The virtuous^ well-protected^ aud well- used wife, should imagine herself placed in the situation of a young tender-hearted female, as jet unacquainted with the pas- sion of love, and in the habitual daily intercourse of friendship, heightened by the sincerest gratitude on her part, though^ for indefatigable endeavours to serve a faithless and unkind husband ! and this continual society was with a man, whose elegant accomplishments were un- rivalled, and his manners dangerously in- sinuating. The approaches of the mind towards kindred refinement in that of a female are far more insidious and penetrating than from the prepossessions excited by a beau- tiful exterior. The person of Mr. Ry- mington is rather plain than otherwise, but his smile is bewitching, and touches while it instantly reaches the heart. His education has been of the most AUGUSTUS IlYMINGTONj ESQ. 113 Let an Ass keep his long Ears. profound and polished kind : at that uni- versity in which he was a student, he was known, like another ChricJiton, to carry off every prize in the difl'erent branches of learning : equally acquainted with the dead, as well as living, lan- guages, he unites to this depth of erudi- tion all those ornamental accomplish- ments of fashion, by many deemed frivol- ous; but which, when excelled in, as by Mr. Rymington, strike the wondering mind with a degree of enthusiastic admi- ration : besides, the moretrfiing acquire- ments of Mr. Rymington were all of the most elegant kind ; and ail skilfull} and scientifically performed. He was not fa sJi ion ahlij famous for ex- posing the organ of the auricular sense of the donkey, by cropping close that wise defence, which lature has given him against a species of flv, that peculiarly infests that patient aitimal ; and who, w hen lie is thus cropped, and kept fat 116 LONDON CHARACTERS. Angels would be our Inferiors, and sleek, to gratify the vanity of his owneir, is made to run raceSj draw the new-invented carriages of folly, or amble under the titled demirep : no ; Mr. Ry- raington's polite acquirements chalked out a difterent circle of amusements. He rode the sprightly courser with eques- trian elegance ; he danced with grace and agility; and though he passed not whole mornings, like some certain noblemen, in endeavouring to give melody to the Jew's- harpj he struck the chords of harmony with the science of a professed amateur^ and excelled as a mu&ician. Now it has been said, that this accom- plished man's sole object was to under- mine an hapless woman's peace ; 7iap- Uss^ indeed, we acknowledge she was, in every sense of the word ; and it is to be lamented that she did so much discredit to her former character of unsullied virtue ; it is certainly to be deplored, that she broke the ties of conjugal fidelity. AUGUSTUS RYMINGTON^ ESQ. 117 if there was no Frailty in Man. and sought, by illicit raeans, to forget her wretched situation : but if mortals are to be free from frailty, if true per* fection is to be the lot of erring mortal- ity, then angels are our inferiors, and Omnipotence loses its most sacred attri- butes of Mercj and Forgiveness* When Lady Linwood was found guilty, the most enormous damages from Mr.Ry- mington were assigned to her much more guilty, her negligent, and depraved hus- band ; but though Mr. Rymington paid these exorbitant damages (to one who is particularly eager to assert his right to marry again ! f ! ) he is not ungrateful for, nor satiated with, possession : he has proved, that the mind was his object more than the perishable charms of Lady Linwood's person ; and we cannot for** bear repeating that he has now made all amend in his power for his fault ; he has willingly and instantly married her, as soon as the decision of the law 118 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. rendered it practicable. Far be it from us to palliate, in any sense or way what- soever, the heinous crime he has been so unfortunate as to perpetrate, yet no one has a right to say^ as it was uttered in court, that seduction is the chief delight of Mr.Rymington, or that his sole desire was '' to undermine the peace of I^ady Linwood's mind:*' nor can they deny, that, whatever may be his faults, he is still possessed of a feeling heart and unex* arapled generosity. THE FORMER MRS. ASHFORD, " — Cum maKnis virtutibus afFers, Grande supercilium." — J u v. Sat. 6. A SHORT time ago, a gentleman in the prime, and almost bloom, of life, united himself to the above lady, then fast de- clining towards the winter of her's; and who, though she was still lovely, we pro- nounce him a bold man, to venture on a marriage with one who had so glar- ingly violated the principles of conjugal fidelity. During the first few years that she wa? the beloved and cherished wife of Colonel Ashford, from whom she has been long divorced, she was one of those outrage^ ouhly virtuous ladies, who shrunk from every appearance of levity and impru- dence; but we have often found those ladies shew themselves the least to b^ 120 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Old School exemplified. trusted^ when opportunity occurs to them x)f pleasing their capricious inclinations. Mrs. Ashford was beautiful ; she was the idol of an adoring and most indulgent husband : the regiment which he com- manded was quartered in a town remark- able for its expence^ and its vicinity to a favourite residence of royalty. He^ who is jusfly acknowledged the most ac- complished scholar^ and the finest of all fine gentlemen^ while he is the most ex- alted in rank^ once requested the hand of Mrs. Ashford at a ball, given in the above-mentioned town. This honour her excessive prudence made her decline ; and she deprived herself of her favourite ex- ercise, sat still the whole evening, and received, from all the grave votaries of the old school J that praise which her meritorious and correct conduct so am- ply^ as they expressed themselves, de- served : while a few free-thinking ladies thought it a fastidious pride^ and an high THE FORMER MRS. ASHFORD. 121 Reflections on Prudery. '^- ■ ■ .1 self-conviction of her personal charms, which must, of consequence^ make her the natural subject of scandal^ because ske danced with so great a man. We cannot forbear saying, that we are apt to lean a little to the opinion of these latter-mentioned female censors ; it was certainly an overacted part of prudential preciseness ; the wife of a Colonel in the armj, who was a man also of private rank and family, was by no means (in a provincial town especially) an unfit part- ner for one, though he was very many degrees of precedency above her husband. The gentleman, it is well known, could not meet his equal there, in point of birth ; and as he chose to honour her by singlino' her out, we think there was more pride and affectation of prudent delicacy in re- fusing him, than there would have been modest frankness and good breedijig, if she had graciously accepted him as a partner. \0L, lio a 122 LONDON .CHARACTERS. She falls in Love, Soon after tins events she cast the ejes of affection on a very joung cornet in her husband*s regiment. His person and manners had a cox- comical and frenchiiied appearance. The husband of Mrs. Ashford was some yesivs older than herself, but was hand- some, manly, and every way pleasing and prepossessing in his behaviour to every one ; to her he was the most kind and generous of husbands. For some time her intrigue w as carried on with this favourite youth, with all that precaution which we may suppose a woman of her character knew so well how, to adopt. But the vanity of a man of fashion does not teach him to be very silent on those occasions ; and she being the handsomest woman in the country, the giiitiemen all envied him that good foktui.e he wished them to un- derstand he enjoyed : those thought- THE FORMER MtlS. ASHFOltD. 1^3 Articles of War. less females, whose conduct Mrs. Ashford had formerly censured in her days of puritanism, now triumphed ; and she was often hailed by them^ in public, with a kind of equivocal arch smile, as much as to say, '' We know what !*' Still the happy lover was afraid to tell all, for fear of the revenge which might be taken on him by an injured husband ; he only gave broad hints, and shrugged away the lady's reputation, especially to her female friends ; for from them he ex- pected most applause, a surer welcome^ and more established fame, in the annals of polite gallantry. Soon he found comfort and protection in the articles of war. Colonel Ashford liad lately brought a very troublesome an^ querulous officer to the chastisement of a public reprimand, for a breach of that article which forbids the giving and provoking challenges : this recent reproof g2 12i LONDON CHARACTERS. Elopement. could not then immediately be done away, by the Colonel transgressing against this article he had but just so powerfully enforced ; and it had been a standing- joke in the regiment^ but like many other jokes, mostly true, that the articles of war were the bible of the commanding ofiicer. Cornet Stanhope longed for notoriety in this criminal affair: he had a father, who treated morality as hypocrisy, and laughed at it both in his precepts and practice; he, therefore, had nothing to dread from his anger or reproaches ; and being immensely rich, he did not tremble at the idea of heavy damages. This event, then, the youth reflected, must be made public. What a conquest to give him fiivour with the ladies ! The conquest o\ei the beauty and virtue of a Mrs. Ashford ! lie did not let the deluded fair one rest THE PORMER MRS. ASHFORD. 125 Nature conquered by Passion, till she consented to elope from him: she had often been in the habit of taking* morning airings with Mr. Stanhope ; no- thing could be suspected, and he made use of all the sophistry such a being is capable of. She was infatuated ; and, in her eyes, he was all perfection. Yet ci:e painful struggle she experienced, when about to quit her husband's roof and piO- tection ; for <' One lovely girl the lady bore." This tie was not easily broken by a fond parent; and, on the very morning of her guilty elopement, the child crossed the hall, and begged, with infantine per- suasion, she might accompany her mother in her morning's ride : and, when denied, she said, '' Naughty Mr. Stanhope ! I don't love you; I used to go out with mamma ; and now you are always taking her away, and will not let me go with you.'' g3 126 LONDON CHARACTEIiS. The Seducer found guilty. What must have been her feelings when she was conscious tliat^ most pro- bably, she was quitting her daughter for ever ! She drew back, turned pale^ and her resolution, as well as her form, began to totter. Mr. Stanhope almost dragged her to the post-cbaise, which stood in waiting ; in which she threw herself, a»d burst into an agony of grief: but yet she went \ She accompanied her seducer, who had obtained leave of absence, the day before, from his Colonel ; who little thought the deep and cruel injury his officer had inflicted upon him \ Too soon the fatal conviction came home to his astonished mind 1 too soon he ibund aU his domestic comforts blighted for ever 1 The law, in this case, was obliged to take its course ; and Mr. Stanhope and Mrs. Ash ford were decidedly pronounced guilty. She was yet so handsome, that she still gave consequence to her criminal lover ; THE FORMER MRS. ASHFORD. 127 He triumphs at the Verdict. and all the gentlemen declared him the happiest dog in the ivorldy to he blessed in the possession of such a woman, and to come oft' so cheaply ; for the damages were not so high as might be reasonably expected in such a case ; nor was he yet weary of the charms and accomplish- ments of Mrs. Ashford. He entered her lodgings on the day th« the trial was closed, gave a triumphant huzza, and fervently embraced her ; ex- pressed his happiness at being found, what the jury denominated, guilty ; for, that she was, in consequence, now entirely his Own. She had trampled virtue and duty under foot ; she gaily returned the em- brace, drove away the remembranceof her daughter and her past happiness from her mind, and consented to accompany her present protector, in guilty triumph, to a famous sea-port town, in a post- g4 128 tONDON CHARACTEK' The Reward. chaise-and-four, with two out-riders^ in their full uiiiforf^iy soldiers beU>n2;ing* to her husband's re2;iment, and who then happened to be on furlough. Soon after thi.s he, for wliom slie had sacrificed all her bapppiness, all the un- sullied purity of a once spotless cha- racter, despised and totally abandoned her, leavino' her to suffer, amongst the anguished tortures of her reflecting rnindy the dreadful prospect of absolute want. hi this period of her life, had she knoMU all that the writers of these pages are acquainted with, she might have learned most fully to appreciate the value qf that generous heart, which «he had so lawlessly throvvn away. Here, unexam- pled, unheard of beneficence, from a quarter, of all others, whence she had the least right to expect it, was dealt out to her. THE FORMER MRS. ASHFORD. 129 Generous Behaviour of the Colonel. Though Colonel Ashford was resolved never to see her more^ he was determin- ed she should never^ on the desertion of her lover^ (an event which he knew was sure to follow^ from the futility of his unprincipled character^) know a want of the coi\iforts and conveniences of life^ and so plunge herself deeper in guilty or he tempted to commit any act of despair : he, therefore, hy means of a faithful and confidential friend^ made himself ac- quainted with all her movements,, her wants and emharrassments. When he found her abandoned and forsaken hy hira in whom she had placed her mistaken confidence^, he took care^ on finding out her lodgings, to supply her amply w ith provisions ; with plain, though good and genteel, clothing, a small allowance of pocket-money, and sufficient every quar- ter to pay her rent and servant. These donations were left at the door^, with the domestic, directed to her^ as G 5 330 LONDON CHARACTERS, She marries again. Mrs. Ashford ; on the inside of the first parcel of clothes and money she receiv- ed was written, '' You are to ask no question of the bearer of any parcel, or articles of house-keeping, grocery, &c. which may be, in future, addressed to you, otherwise, the}- will cease to be sent you, from your unknown, and, to you, €ver-in visible friend. " We suppose her sincere repentance, aiid exemplary conduct, during the period that she lived in this manner, ignorant thai she was supported by her injured hus'- band, and which was for several years, induced the gentleman, who has lately made her his partner for life, to overlook the past guilty transaction, which we be- lieve to be the only one she ever commit- ted. She is well capable of adorning the marriage state ; and we hope her present husband will have no cause to repent his THE FORMER MRS. ASHFORD. 131 Conclusion. casting' off that prejudice, which found a place against her in almost every bo- som : for in her former marriage she was so peculiarly blessed^ in the possession of an husband good^ almost, beyond ex- ample, that though in behalf of feminine weakness we are ever ready and desir- ousof employing themost liberal candour, yet we know not how to apologize for, or excuse, the faulty step she took, in betraying such worth and generosity; and destroying the happiness of him, who seemed to live only for that of his wife and daughter. e6 THE HON. MR. MELVINGTON Per Scdera semper Sceleribus certum est iter. Ssnec. JLady Gaj fields who drew the sources of her education from the modern phi- losophers^ and all the hitrber classes of epicurean disciples of dissipation and pleasure^ in France, and embraced all their depraved tenets when they threw oil the yoke of morality and their law- ful government^ was a female who had long attached herself to her kindred soul^ Mr. Melvington : in defarce of modesty and decorum^ she lived with him some years, and publickly acknowledged him her favoured lover. She had a beautiful and blooming daughter; lovely in personal, but not likely to have many mental, charms, with the conduct of such a mother before 134 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Work of Seduction. her eyes^ who continually set her so vile an example. LadyMonimiaTorrington^ the daughter of the Countess of Gayfield^ had not very long been married to a Mr. Sunderland^ who had the misfortune to kill his anta- g'onist in a duel ; the result of a jealous quarrel about a cherished favourite. Mr. Sunderland, to avoid taking his trial for murder, was obliged to play at hide-and-seek for a considerable time^, during which Lady Monimia Sunderland resided with her mother ; where Mr.Mel- vington had frequent opportunities of undermining her inclinations, rendering himself as irresistibly agreeable as possi- ble to her, and succeeded in making some interest in her affections, although she knew he was really in possession of her mother's heart. As to Lady Gay field, she perceived his attentions, but was no more jealous of her daughter than she would THE HON. MR. MELVINGTON. 135 Manners of the French. have been of any other woman ; the idea conveyed no other horror to her mind than the dread of losing her lover. We are told that such partnership among the very vitiated females in France is by no means uncommon ; and it is na extraordinary thing, there^ to see amother and daughter at daggers drawn about the same equally favoured gallant; who^ if they happeu to be rich and give splen- did fites at the maison des delices, are received into numerous parties, though they may be convinced of their guilt : we had hoped such refinement on wick- edness could never have obtained a place in this country, where a .se/ise of delicacy and honour are yet to be found, even among the most faulty. But such was the conduct of Lady Gay fields her daugh- ter, and their lover. The Countess was soon conTinced that a criminal correspondence was carrying 136 LONDON CHARACTERS, A Spy. on between her daughter and Mr. Mel- vington; and she set spies to watch all their steps; desirous to detect and be re- venged, ir possible, both on her gallant and Lad} Monimia. A confidential f^^otman^ seeing Mr. Melvington aiid Ladv Moniniia go out together, watclied tnerd ; and traced them^ till he sa\\ them step ijito an hack- ney coach: he foilowrd at a little distance, and then jumpt up behind^ as if he had been their servant m waiting ; taking care to get down, when he found the coach about to make an halt; then narrowly watching it, he saw the guilt v pair enter an house, notorious for receiving noctur- nal visitors of both sexes, and ii]deed any illicit lovers at all times in the day. The man waited at the door till (hey came out : he then approached the lady^ and these words escaped him, from ihe immediate impulse of his hearty '' Oh! THE flON. MU. MKLVINGTON. 131 An Appeal to the Law. Lady Moniaua ! I am sorrv to see you eoiRC out of siich ail house as this !" Terror, sliame, guilt, all conspired tlieir force to almost annihilate the cri-* minal daughter : she sunk, in a death- Jike state, into the arms of Mr. Melving- ton ; who, determining to make sure of his prize, and trust to the chance of his tenderness and attentions to recall her fleeting spirits, hurried her in that state to an hackney coach, and they were heard of no more at their respective hemesr And is there no law against such acfs as these ? Cannot it, in such an instance, touch such highly culpable offenders ? If it cannot, their crime is equally flagrant, and must sooner or later meet its retri- bution. Savages, in untaught, unsophisticated na^ ture, would blush at the vices that disgrace 138 LONDON CHARACTERS. Melancholy Reflections. many of the refined and elegant vota- ries of fashionable and polished life. Mr, MelviiJgton has not only been culpable in seducing a wife^ but he has committed a worse crime, in the double guilt of his connexion with both mother and daughter. When we turn over the characters we have penned, we are shocked to behold how many of them have been known at Westminster liall^ for violated rites of hospitality, and for breach of the mar- riage vow : it is not only the old^ who cry out on the laxity of morals^ in this age, the reflecting youth, also^, who has been happily brought up to a love of vir- tue, and who turns from vice with ab- horrence, sees, with deep regret^ that she is daily and hourly establishing her throne among us. Serious and philosophical old gentle- men^ who have lived beloved in the bo- THE HON. MR. MELViNGTOxX. 139 Continued. soms of their families^ without a wish to wander from " That dear hut, their home/* And who reside much in the country, when they do visit town, observe with great satisfaction, in the unsuspecting honesty of their hearts, that our streets are not so much infested with abandoned women as formerly : we wish this were owing to the amendment of morals in our nation : but^ alas ! we fear it proceeds from a very different cause; and a certain Colonel J who has not long ago publish- ed his life and eccentric opinions, face- tiously,but verypointedly and justly^ says, that the modest women have encroached on the privileges of the Cyprian corps. The cherished, and perhaps, in many degrees, prudent mistress of a valued friend, hitherto living for one alone, and a stranger to depravity j the beauteous 140 LONDON CHARACTERS. Insulted Wives, and Revenge. w ife of another ; better please the refined sensualist than the luihappy female^ be- trayed first bj man to the coritiuuai traf- fic of her personal charms to secure her from absolute want. He nourishes the criminal passion^ takes no pains to check it in its growth^ destroys the conjugal tiC;, and fancies himself^ for awhile, free from danger of every kind ; and often free of expence, also^ till the heavy damages of thousands ring in his ear. The fashionable husband, seldom satis- fied with one^ publicly sports his cJiere dinie in a dashing phaeton ; and drives her even under the windows of his wife's dressing-room ; set one, perhaps, though modest, not possessed of Lucretian virtue, might never have been faithless, but from the insolent neglect of her husband. The pangs of her bosom^ resulting from his contempt of her person, give birth to the idea of vengeance. The THE HON. MR, MELVINGTON. 141 Conclusion. masked profligate, under the garb of friendship, sees his time, and profits by it: the husband, the first in fault, then finds his honour wounded; and he has recourse to the forms of the law, as he finds them best calculated for his present purposes; he takes good care to have am- ple and incontestable proofs of his disgrace, and the damages he gains eiiable him to support his mistresses in still greater splendour : and when the ilLgot price of his own and his wife's public shame is expended on their rapacity and extrava^ gance, he then goes in his turn to des^ troy the peace and harmony of families. THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN. *' Ca&dimus, inque vicem praebemus crura flagellis; " Vivitur hoc pacto/' Pers. It row wanted about a fortnight to the time;, when the Duchess of Pyrmont^ and her suite, would quit their present abode, and go for a short time to some fashion- able watering-place^ or repair to London, When one morning, about four o'clock, the family were awakened by a loud ringing at the gate ; and the Marquis of Waltham arrived post from his late guilty excursion. Successful, satiated by six weeks pos- session only, he had sent the weeping victim of his seductive arts to her parents ; promised to procure her a good husband, but laughed at her folly, when she could imagine him to be serious, at his solemn- ly swearing before the fall of her virtue, be himself would be that husband. J 44 LONDON CHARACTERS. Most foul Deception. The injured father overtook him on his road home ; and after giving vent to his passionate grief, was obliged to re- turn the dupe of the Marquis's sophis- trjj who thought himself well off to get rid of the aillicted parent, hy giving him a check on his banker for four hundred pounds, as a marriage portion for his .deluded daughter. The noble family did not meet at break- fast : a few hours before dinner the Mar- quis made his appearance ; and though he had been at great pains to adorn himself, he looked very ill : a kind of guilty triumph, mingled with a considerable portion of shame^ sat on his countenance ; and his downcast eye appeared fearful of meeting that of purity in his virtuous sister ; this diev/ed his mind not totally void of sen- sibility, and he really did feel something like remorse for the baneful part he had been acting. Lady Charlotte could not iielp saying she thought he did not THE prodigal's RETURN. 143 A nice Distinction. look well : he stammered, Attributed it to fatigue, and changed the subject by asking, if thej should be alone that evening ? '' Entirely so," said the Duchess; ^'^and I do not know, ray dear Philip, what we should have done v/ithout you ; for Char- lotte has read all the sketches you left with her, and which, I assure you, en- tertained me much." '' Ay,'* said the Marquis, '' I ivoiild have the pleasure of reading my dissolute wife to you, my- self; I have got it sketched out, and I altered the appellation : I cannot bear profligate, when applied to the ladies !" ^' Now is not that rather a fastidious distinction ?" said the Duchess. '' By no means, my dear Duchess," replied the Marquis. '^ A woman may have a dis- solute mind, without being devoted to actual vice : her conduct even may be dissolute, but not absolutely depraved: VOL. II. H 14G LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion. now proflig^j can only be applied to the most abandoned and vicious.** The Marquis was fond of definitions ; he dwelt, some time^ on the difterent ap- plication of the two words ; and it served to banish a few twinges of conscience. In the evening, the trio being met, the Marquis gave the promised character. MRS. MOISTON; OR, THE DISSOLUTE WIFE, ** La Louange chatouileet gagne les Esprits : Lcs Favears d'une Belle en sont souvent le Prix." La FeNTAiNE. The ladj who is the subject of the pre- sent detail was born in a country-town, of parents v/hose situation in life was not at the time of her birth either raised above, or sunk belov/, a sober mediocrity of station. They had several other children whose persons seemed universally to be cast in an ordinary mouldy, save that of their eldest daughter, Henrietta, now Mrs. Moiston. As the father of this lady was a specu- lating and ambitious man, and desired nothing so much as to see his family raised to dignity and splendour ; and as the mother of Mrs. Moiston was a weak, but aspiring woman, with an uncommon share of ill-regulated affection for her h2 148 LONDON CHARACTERS. Too fund a Mother. children ; tliey saw with mutual pleasure the opening charms of their eldest daugh- ter^, and indulged themselves in the fond hope, that by the beauty of her person slie would make the fortuneof herself and family. Henrietta was, therefore, foster- ed with a tenderness above what ex- tended to the other children ; and her every wish was considered by her fond and mistaken mother as a law. Henrietta was placed at the first school in the town where her father resided ; and was allowed every accomplishment^ which might fit her for that exalted station her parents, one day, hoped she would fill : but Henrietta, iiilieriting from nature a disposition volatile and vain, and a warmth of constitution, un- checked by parental restraint, and un^ subdued by religious precepts, evinced, therefore, no proilciency either in her ac- complishments or her duties. Before she was thirteen she left school ; MRS. iMOISTON. 119 Hicnrietta ia her teens. was capable of uttering a few French phrases^ could play a new song through- out because it happened to be fashion- able;, but scarcely wrote a letter on tlie most common subject which would not have disgraced a miik-maid. At fourteen^, Henrietta dressed herself with care ; she went to churchy, on Sun- days^ purely for the fun of laughing and giggling with the great boys of the gram- mar-school^ who happened to sit in an opposite pew. Being well acquainted witbtbethouglifs and wishes of her parents^, and from their ridiculous and unguarded praises uttered in her presence^, fancying herself a com- plete beauty^ she began to think she ought to ha\e lovers; and before she was fifteen, she set up for a professed coquet. The young men of the town where she resided were not of sufficient consequence to answer the exoi-bitant expectations of the flippant Henrietta ; and the officers 150 LONDON CHARACTERS. Her romping Feats. quartered there conteiited themselves with partaking of lier father's good din- ners^ and condescended to flirt and romp with the coming fair one : but the only palpable evidence of their notice that she received was 'broken combs, unseemly rents in her elegant muslin robes, and a peculiar nod, sometimes accompanied with a still more peculiar wink, when thej happened to meet her in public. The only sufferer on these occasions was the mother of Henrietta, to whose oftice it generally fell to repair these love-sprung fractures. Sometimes the folly of an ill-regulated tenderness gave way, in the mother of Henrietta, to that fatigue which her wanton carelessness inflicted on this fond parent ; but, on these occasions, the daughter would si~ lenceher mild remonstrances with, ''Well, never mind, lovey, you donH know what the Colonel said to me last night at the play." — '* What!" eagerly replied her MR8 MOISTON. 151 The Blindness of a Mother. mother, '' the Honourable Colonel H — , of the Guards V She repaired the rent in Henrietta's crape frock with a quicl^glf stitch ; and the latter ran to her instru- ment, with a silly suppressed giggle, which meant more than met the ear of her delighted mother, and she ran over the notes, accompanied with a most croaking* voice — " His handkerchief scented so sweetly. His white teeth he shewed so completely. He managed the matter so neatly. That, I ne'er can be kissed by a clown." Henrietta's mother lauglied heartily at what she called the sweet good hu- mour of her darling, whose playful fas^ cination she said all (he men admired : but, however much the men might have admired i\\t fascinating pla fuh ess of Henrietta, none in the town ' r country had made a single overture to ta^e her '' for better for w oise /' and she had yet to learn, that there are few tolerable wo- H 4 152 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Portrait, meUj but what may be taken^ occasion- ally, on easier terms : these terms would i||j|ye sliocked, even in idea, tlie father and mother of this young' won^an ; for they would have shrunk^ with horror, at the thoughts of their Henrietta being any thing less than a wife. To speak, however, truly of her person, it was by no means of that superior order, which could completely subdue a man, independant of the aid of other endow- ments : but, amidst her more ordinary brothers and sisters, she shone a star, of no inconsiderable lustre: placed in con- tact with a truly beautiful and elegant woman, her charms sunk into vulgar nothingness. She had irregular features, a dingy complexion, only rendered various by a quantity of rouge, which she laid on thick, 'aX. fifteen ! Her eyes were good for nothing, but to wink, knowingly; MRS. MOISTON. 153 from Nature. not one spark of intellect ever Illuniined them : her mouth was the bestj and most accommodatuig', of all her features ; for it was so formed^ as to hide a bad set of under teeth^ while it displayed^ most spaciously, an even and white up'jer row : the constant grin or smirk which she assumed, was palliated, in some degree, by the dimples which this habitual prac- tice presented : her forehead was narrow and mean, and her hair rather of a dusky brown : her figure, as to height, was commanding; but its proportions were ill regulated : her neck was very short, and her shoulders high; her feet and hands thick and wide. Her dress was showy, trolloping, and totally devoid of neatness and taste ; yet with all these draw-backs, the tout en- semUe of Henrietta was such as would induce any licentious man to make a fool of her. H O 154 LONDON CHARACTERS. Love-letters and Balls. She had attained her seventeenth year, and her father had given many splendid iptertainments beyond the power of his finances to support ; she had been re- peatedly exhibited at the Town^ County, and Election Balls ; had figured at the Theatre^ and paraded in every public walk ; but all to no purpose, Henrietta would shew^ her female con- fidents above fifty love-letters from dif- ferent lads^ whOj encouraged by her for- ward manners^ had amused themselves at the expence of her character ; but she, on whom her parents had built the future aggrandizements of their race, could not boast a single offer of honourable mar- riage. Mr. Perkins, the father of Henrietta, had several acquaintances in London, and his daughter had perpetually intreated and teized him to take her to that great MRS. MOISTON. 155 She arrives in London. city, which promised her the full measure of all that her imagination had painted of pleasure and delight. Her father had always objected to this trip : to say the truths his sober connex- ions there did not care to take the charge of a young creature of so volatile and gay a turn : and, without an invitation, Henrietta could not possibly make such a visit. A period^ however, arrived, which brought the accomplishment of her wishes : an old and respectable widow lady, allied to several families of dis- tinction, and to whom J\Ir. Perkins had been very serviceable, by way of recom- pence for his friendly offices, gave an in- vitation to Henrietta, for the following Spring ; and her sanguine parents looked upon this as a sure forerunner of a splen- did settlement. h6 156 LONDON CHARACTERS, Her Conduct theie. The most rigid economy \\as now practised by Mrs. PerkiiiS;, in order to make a purse for Heririetta_, M'hich might enable her to purchase a fashionable ■wardrobe on her arrival in the gay city ; and many a guinea was purloined from the table^, and screwed out of what was generally allowed for the other chil- dren^, to enable Henrietta to shine amidst fashion's votaries. She arrived^ by ihe mail-coach^ at the house of her father's friend, in Bruns- wick-square^ in the early part of April : she stopped that same morning, and went to the theatre that same evenicg. At the house of the lady with whom she was a guestj much and varied company resorted ; and amidst the number were several sober^ as v,' ell as irregular, young men. In Loudon^ novelty is every thing 5 for MRS. MOISTON. 157 She catches a Lover. though a man sees, every day, as he walks along the streets, the most heauti- ful and elegant women, his e>e becomes so familiar to these views, that he is not imfrequently captivated with inferiority, so as it carries but the stamp of some- thing new : besides the appearance is ex- ceedingly refreshing in a country-girl of eighteen. '' What could she know of vice ? She is all artless simplicity," said the old, worn-out sensualist; (and he patted her full bosom with indecorous freedom.) *' These are the women for me \" But Henrietta would soon convince these de- crepid lovers, that they were not exactly the men for her ! Shehadbeeniiearamonthatthehouseof her father's friend ; and dressed, and titter- ed, romped, and flirted, with every manthat fell in her way ; but when she reposed on her pillow, a pang of surprise and vexa- 158 LONDON CKAHACTERS. It is not all fair that glads the Sight. tion shot across her mind^ that;, in all the gay things whicli had been said to her, not one word had been uttered, which even her vanity could construe into a serious declaration. At iength, the son of Sir Willoughby Moiston, mistaking the playful coquetry and studied sim- plicity of Henrietta for native artlessness of character^ really made an honourable proposal ; and Henrietta^ delighted^ wrote by the next post the glad tidings to her mother. Mrs. Perkins was elated beyond mea- sure ; she instantly remitted her daughter twenty guineas of her provident savings ; with hope of nailing the son of Sir Wil- loughby Moiston ! It is not all fair that glads the sight; Sir Willoughby was a capital porter brewer, and a Knight of Margaret JV7- cholson's order : the greatest calamity that could have visited him was this his title ! From that period, his credit, as a MRS. MOISTON. 159 She exhibits her Lu\ct in the Country. porter merchant^ began to decline. Sir Willoughbj gave parliamentary dinners, and his wife and daughter went to court : the natural consequence was, that what he gained in the flesh, he lost in the spi^ rit ; and the flatness and degeneracy of his porter was a subject of universal complaint. As Mr. Perkins was reputed a ivarm man, a phrase very well understood on the city side of Temple Bar, Sir Wil- loughby did not make the objection that was expected to a match, which, accord- ing to appearances^ was certainly un- equal, Mr. Moiston accompanied Henrietta, m triumph, to the house of her father and mother ; and she exultingly exhibited her husband elect in the face of her old school-mates and ci-devant lovers. Mr. Moiston was rather of the idle 160 LONDON eOAPACTERS. The Lovt-r described. order of young' men ; and though bred and born in ihe city, he h:id all the dash- ing propensities which distiuguish the youths of fashion at the west end of the town, without their pretensions: but Henrietta did not like him the worse for that ; she doated on every thing that was fashionable^ and would rather conamit an enormity than not follow the mode: besides, vouna: Moiston was real I v hand- some, and possessed some taste ; nor did he want for a fair portion of gOvod sense, on many occasions : but let us not be too minute. During the sojourn of Mr. Moiston at the residence of Henrietta's parents, thetwo fathers were negotiating, by letter, the preliminaries of the marriage ; but some obstacles arose, respecting Hen- rietta's portion, which retarded their settling the business. Henrietta said, one morning, to her Mils. MOISTON. 161 A Scheme proposed. lover, '' Lord, dear Moiston, do not let us wait any longer ! My father's as tire- some as your's ; and if we wait, till they are agreed, we shall never be married ! Besides, continued she, giggling, and looking rather too particularly in the face, while she hung on the arm of her lover, '' it would be such fun^ and surprise them all so, if we were to marry with- out their knowing it !" Mr. Moiston's understanding forsook him, at this moment; he was a young man of strong passions ; and the laughing eye, and dimpled cheek, added to the youthful caresses with which she con- cluded her delicate proposal, made him fancy his Henrietta the most unaffected child of nature, and himself the most be- loved of men ! Oh ! dear vanity,how could we support ourselves without thy aid ? Young Moiston procured a licence (secretly) that very evening; and on the 162 LONDON CilARACTE&S. Clandestine Marriage. following morning ihey were united in the holy bands of wedlock. The conse-^ quence of this premature and rash step wasj that Sir Willoughby,incensed, would do nothing for his sow, and in six months from the period of their wedding, the father of Henrietta was obliged to call together his creditors, and Mr, Moistou received not one shilling of his wife's promised portion. We cannot here pass over the joung man's conduct on this occasion, without bestowing that just portion of praise ^?vhich is due to his generosity : he did not, as many husbands would, reflect on his wife, or behave to her with dimiiiished kindness : on the contrary, he not only soothed her, with the utir.ost tenderness, and the most gentle persuasions, but of- fered the most kind and frij ndly conso- lations to her aflRic(ed mother, whose pride and feeling had received so violent a shock. MRS. MOISTON. 163 The Father's Anger relents. This injustice of Mr. Perkins to his family was long resented by Sir Wil- loughby Moiston ; whose own finances being at a low ebb^ had built much on the advantage of this match for his son. For a long-time^ he would neither see nor assist the new -married pair: but a family coming on^ awakened his naturally bard feelings : he relented, — a few months gave brighter prospects to the joung couple, and brought the completion of Henrietta's fondly cherished wishes — that of becoming a resident in London ! Through the assistance of his recon- ciled father, Mr. Moiston supported his family in genteel mediocrity ; and if Henrietta had not found herself capable of experiencing the pure and chaste de- lights of individual love, it is no wonder that gratitude found no place in her heart. Inher externalexpressions, however, there was no appearance of a deficiency : never was there a being, who, with all the affec- 164 LONDON cnARACTERS, Hunting Lovers from the Window. tation of artlessness, possessed such an hypocritical cunning: she delighed in the dear mystery of intrigue^ and her silly vanity made her the dupe of every sensualist and the sport of every boasting- knave. Like Mrs.Villeneuf, mentioned in the first volume of these characters^ she would often caress her husband with all apparent fondness, andj in half an hour afterwards walk out to meet, btj appoint' mentj, a man of whom she knew nothing, but that he had frequently passed by her window ; where, like the aforesaid Mrs. Villeneuf, between whom and Henrietta there is a wonderful similarity (though they are distinct individuals) she would sit, at eleven in the morning, with her arms, bosom, and shoulders, exposed ; and might have shocked, or, perhaps, capli- vaiedy a stoic or a sage. It was sufiicient for a man to pass her MRS. MOISTON. 165 The Huntress caught in her own Toils. windows twice or thrice^ to sigh, to look miserahle, to exhibit a bit of paper in the shape of a J)illet'douXy when the kind heart of Henrietta expanded in his fa- vour : she ran down herself to the door, and received with her own fair hand the assurance that her charms had, like a flash of lightning, blighted all his hap- pinesss, withered all hopes, but such as centered in her. In short, if she did not grant him an interview, he should cer^ tainlij die ! Henrietta thought it the hciglit of cruelty to let a man die, when it was in her power to restore him : she had the greatest dread of the Serpentine River, and thought the famed Lucretia the most ridiculous^ absurd, and wicked of women. She delivered her answer to the dismal effusion of her incognito lover vviibher own hand; regardless of the eves of her 166 LONDON CHARACTERS. " ' ■ ' A Rendezvous. opposite neighbours, or of the kitche windows^ where her servants sat eye-wit- nesses of their mistress's folly. She met her lover ; told him she was a mar^ Tied woman, which only served to in- crease his passion, as obstacles are said to inflame love : at length, he recollect- ed himself ; and the happy expression of •^ How can I help that? the more ray misfortune!'* came opportunely to his aid : to be sure the phrase was rather liacknied : but Henrietta believed it an original effusion. To calm his distracted feelings, she, therefore, promised to meet him, next morning, in a certain square. But the most extraordinary and most abominable impolicy of Henrietta's con- duct was, that she would rather, at any time, sacrifice her honour and her de- Hcacy, than have it supposed that she was without lovers : and her greatest tri* MRS. MOSSTON. 167 Reflections. umph was to gain^ though from a mere gross and temporary inciirjatiou, the lover or husband of her friends and acquaint- ance. Poor, silly, and degraded Henrietta ! Had she but known, that the man who listened to her favourable whispers in the evening retailed them to the mistress of his affections, the next morning, with an expression of abhorrence, and a ten- der injunction that she would not visit such a woman! Had she known that the protecting husband, and worthy man, though sometimes led by that latitude which custom gives to his sex in meet- ing the advances of a forward woman, would not subject his wife or daughter to associate with her; what would her va- nity have suflered ! Where, alas ! was that pride which, when virtue ig no more^ will sometimes lead a woman to respect herself! Where wa- the v^oman, when ihc disgracefully allowed the lovers and 168 LONDON CHARACTERS. Reflections continued. husbands of others to visit her, when alone ; to snatch from her mere instinc- tive embraces, which the hired wanton could as well bestow ! By such a conduct she rendered herself notorious, and a subject of licentious pursuit to men of many nations: for Henrietta knew no- thing of those swains, who sighed and threw up their eyes at her window : and a Spaniard, an Irishman, a Jew, or a Gentile, had the same chance of gazing on her self-supposed charms. What mo- tive enjoined secrecy in these men ? They had nothing to fear from laws, which they, in a few months, would be out of the reach of ? Besides, m.en as well as women, and, in these cases, frequently more so^ have their confidants ; and over a convivial glass, the pure wife, the spotless virgin, and retiring widow, are sometimes sacrificed, from a base spirit of boasting vanity : what then has that degraded woman to expect who invites ditsgrace ? ^She has to look for- MRS. MOISTON. 16§ Conclusion. ward to what Henrietta has already met withj in part; the rontenipt, if not abandonment, of her husband ; the loss of her respectable friends; and if not speedily reformed^ sh^ will, it is to be feared, add another to the list of those ^vives, whose exploits have swelled the columns of a newspaper. May this lenient portrait meet the eves and claim the attention of those fe- males who are not } et old in error ; and may the rugged lines, distinguishable in the picture, be speedily effaced, and their place supplied by those respectable ac- quirements, those feminine virtues, which become the wife and the mother : for she who is supported by her husband, ^' who cats of his bread, drinks of his cup, and reposes on his bosom/' can never be ex- cused an act of dishonour. VOL. II. THE MARQUIS OF DERRINGBRIGHT, AND HIS TERMAGANT MISTRESS. " Ncc tecum possum vivere, nee sine te." Martial.' This nobleman, who verges towards tlie latter part of the autumnal season of life, lately made a considerable figure ill the crim, con. calendar ; and was compelled to pay very large damages for undermining the peace of a reverend and dignilled di- vine^ by seducing the affections of his wife, which she had bestowed on her lawful partner, as was fondly imagined, in unceasing and unsullied acts of ten- derness, till the introduction of the Mai^- quis of Derringbright into thie family, which he occasionally Visited ; and at one time took up a long abode at the clergy* *i2 112 LONDON CHARACTERS. Ungiatefulness, man's country-house^ under pretence of a sliglit indisposition. He repaid the kind and friendlj atten- tions of his hospitable host, hj inflicting an irreparable Avound in his anguished bosonij and destroying his domestic hap- piness^ for ever. It is a true and just remark, that the cruel man is generally a coward ; the se- quel of this delineation of character will shew, that the Marquis of Derringbright verifies the remai k. When he wa« fully detected in this adulterous correspondence, he blessed his stars, that the profession and always peaceable character of the injured man prevented the dreadful chance of sword or pistol from being resorted to as modes of vengeajkce. He hugged himself in the promised enjoyment of life, and re- selvedto be more cautious in future^ how MATIQUIS OF DrRRINGURIGHT. 173 Dalineation, and Dead-coiouring. he attempted the too easily-yielding chas- tity of the frail Matrons of this present age. He^ therefore, attaclied himself to a lady of high celtbrity in the corps of dashing Cyprians ; and she beeamCj soon after the tragical death of her former 'protector^ the acknowledged mistress of the Marquis of Derringbright. This lady was beautiful in her person, but in temper a perfect copy of the re- nowned Xantippe ;* she was the daughter of a reputable tradesman, a sadler, in Barbadoes, but was dignified by those who envied her her three carriages, and splendid establishment, by the title of daughter to a penny harder ! Her brother * The wife of Socrates, who gave him an oppor- tunity to acquire the reputation of a most patient, a^ well as a wise, man. i3 174 LONDON charact2:rs. She causes a fatal Duel. is certaialj an liair-dresser ; and has a large and beautiful family. We should not be so prolix in detailing the connexions of a woman of this description^ did the recital not lead to that expression^ which once escaped the Marquis^ that marked so strongly his 'poltroucrie^ and shews how much the lady has him under her dominion. The termagant disposition she possesses was once the <;ause^of ajupst m?elancholy event ; but in. that case,, it is well known, she was only guilty of impetuous inady^er- tency; and could she have fQreseeji the consequences^ would have endured any insult sooner than h,aye,prccipit£iled her liberal 'protector into so direful a cala* inity. But it proves the violence and haste of her temper, wli^n she^s^i^d to J^r. Eg- bert-, ajt the time he ei^tered her box at the Opera^ and did not behave to her in MARQUIS OF DERRINGBRIGHT. 175 Artifices of Coquetry. a manner she thought sufficiently respect- ful^ '' I will set Lord Riverston upon you! ' The dreadful result is too well knowDj when it came to the hot-headed and impetuous Lord Riverston 's know- ledge: he met his adversary; they fought, and Lord Riverston was mortally wounded. For '' one little month" she secluded herself, in all the pomp of mourning, and pageantry of woe ; she then accepted 'of the proposals of the Marquis of Derring- bright ; who, though he could keep lier •only one carriage, instead of three ^ was yet a Marquis of fashion and fortune^ and maintained her munificently. As she w^as peculiarly attached to the elegancies of the toilette, she kept con- stantly in her house a fancj^-dress-maker, who received the rudiments of her art under the most fashionable of that class, in town : and her sole employm.cnt in the establishment of Mrs. Olderston, her i4 176 LONDON CHARACTERS. Borrowed Children. present mistress^ is to change, almost dai- ly, the form and fashion of her dresses, and for which she receives a very hand- some salary. The numerous artifices of coquetry adopted by females of Mrs, Olderston's class are unexampled : her brother's children were beauteous as little cherubs ; it was the pride of Mrs. Olderston to have one or other of these children, by turns, dressed at her expence, with ex» travagant profusion, and seated between her and her dear Marquis in his phaeton. She accustomed the child to call them father and mother, to which the Mar- quis durst not give a nt'gative voice ; but consented to be called papa by the hair- dresser's children. The eyes of gentlemen, who were stran- gers to her, were rivetted on the lovely mother and her beautiful infant. '' What that affects to shudder at the name of vice, and even indiscretion, be- cause never assailed or exposed to tenijg- tationa CURSORY REMARKS. "Nam Roraae quis non ?— Ah, si fas dicere ! Sed fas." Pjlrs. Sac. •' — I. '' jVow^ I hope^, ladies/' said the Mar- quis of Waltliam, addressing- his mother and sister, '^^you vvili give me credit for not only detailing the character of the dissolute \^'ife, but also throwing volun- tarily into the evening's entertainment the characters which foiiovved/'—^'' Yes/* replied the Duchess, laughing, '' we are bound to thank you ; but I cannot forbear smiling at the curious way you mingle and contrast your characters/' '' My dear Duchess/* said Lady Char- lotte, '' I hope you will pardon me for differing from you, but that i^ what I so much admire. I like the character of a truly virtuous mind sometimes to follow 21i LONDON CHARACTERS. Observations. that of a vicious one : it reconciles us to the world;, and encourages us to hope, that there are almost an equal por- tion of good as well as had in it/' It is certainly a just remark/' said the Duchess, ^^ and so you shall both go on as you please with the entertainment you truly afford me/' '' Oh ! for my part, I have done/* said Lady Charlotte. '' I think, for the short time we are to slay here, it is you, now, my dear brother, who must furnish us both with charac- ter and anecdote/' '' A propos/' said the Duchess,'' ''*^you have been in town, Philip ; yovi can tell us, perhaps, some little anecdote or other '/' The Marquis changed countenance ; his unfortunate mother could not per- ceive his embarrassment, anf body, tiieir U'ue age is become perceptible in (hem; and, though some years ago they appeared much younger than they were, they now shew every symptom of tliat great age to which they have attained : indeed, the constitution of Sir John has always been rather delicate ; but though all na- tural warmth seem to have departed from MR JOHN AND LADY SOMERVILLE. 245 Their Protegee, the Dwarf. their bodies, their hearts glow with all the fervour of benevulence and charity. They never had any chiklren ; and thouiHi the affectionate mind of Ladv Somerville finds ample satisfaction in assisting the poor around her^ and in im- parting many little elegancies and com- forts to those among her numerous rela- tives, who are not so blest, as she is, by fortune's favours, yet an heart, like hers, wants something, some dear domestic favourite, that she can love at all times : she has accordingly, in concurrence with her husband, (who is equally pleased as herself with her protegee,) adopfeJ a beautiful little female dwarf; who has all the wit we generally find amongst those species of nature's freaks. In fact, it may be said, that it is Miss Burton, the above little lady, who reigns over and governs the house of Sir John Somerville as much as she does over the aflectit-ns «f her kind and venerable protectors. M 2 244 LONDON CHARACTERS. "" ' .,.,., . , , . ' , -^^ a: Indulged Kittens. Next to this favourite is a set of petted kittens ; who are sa fat and pampered^ tliat thej discover all the inherent tiger in their nature^ and growl at strangers, with a degree of ferocionsnesSj like angry dogs. With these sleek and beautiful fftvouriteSj adorned with pink ribbons or silver chains about their necks, according to (heir colour^ Lady Somerville is seen reclining of a morning on a sumptuous bed J covered with linen of the finest texture and colour, and of the softest dowHj looking a Ihie remnant of v«^hat she has been. On one side of her lies a magnificentl}' bound maiuia^ of devotions, and in equally expensive, but more light and tasteful, coverings, are the Spectator, Pope, Johnson, and other authors of cele- brity ; for she has, for some years, taken her breakfast in bed about ten, and th«n reads till twelve: theti she rises, and attends to her domestic and housewifely coi/cernsj with a bustle, activity, and care. SIR JOHN AND LADY SOMERVILLE. 245 ■ ■■ ■ ^ Pctits Soupers en Famille. as if, instead of possessing many thou sands, she was not worth a groat. Amongst those who give themselves up to a country-life, it is seldom custom- ary to dine very late ; Sir John Somer- ville^, and his family-party, which are scarce ever known to sit down, in their own family trio of the knight, his ladv, and the favourite dwarf, dine rather early, because supper is their favourite meal : their table is then spread with a profusion of dainties, foreign wines of various sorts, liquor and ale in abundance, and <'heerful and correct mirth, is the order of the evening. Lady Somervilie, who has not allowed herself scarce a quarter of an hour to dress for dinner, ROW seems like an happy arid overjoyed housewife, whose work is done for the day, and is as jocund and lively as any of the gay and often numerous party : and here, the little yiquant dwarf diverts her benefactors, and all the company, by m3 24:6 LONDON CHARACTERS. '■^ - - ■ " An innocent Shunamite. her sallies of wit and gaiety^ and the har- monious warbiiogs of a voice almost se- raphic ; the good pair delight in their adopted child : she is so little in her M'hite frock, so infantine with her natu- rally waving hair, and with her diminutive fairy hands and feet she may commit even a thousand little faults, though she is nineteen years old, that would not be excusable in a well grown girl of only thirteen. She has been habituated to call Sir John and his lady, father and mother, from the time she first became an inmate of their house; Sir John, towards a chill winter's evening, sometimes complains of the cold j '' Dear father," she says, with the most artless and bewitching naivete] " let me endeavour to warm you." And she jumps on his knee, and nestles her truly beautiful face in his bosom. The determined quizzers will, sometimes, laugh ; but the principles and Sia. JOHN AND LADY SOMERVILLE. 247 She makes a proper Use of her Influence. ideas of Sir John Somerville are pure as the whole tenor of his conduct to his little darling*. Nothing can more evince the real good- ness of Sir John and his ladj than their adoption of this, otherwise, unfortunate little creature ; as she is not possessed of fortune^ she would have been, with- out their friendly assistance, cut off from genteel society, and in a manner pro- scribed much other intercourse, and have been a burthen to her parents. That Miss Burton wants not art and discernment is certain ; and she perceives that she has unbounded influence over her benefactors ; but we believe she never makes use of it to prejudice them against another, but endeavours rather to conciliate their friendship for those she may think in want of it. m4 ,248 LONDON chahacters. Economy to a Degree. So stranffc andeccentricis Ladv Sonier- \ille^ that she will sometinies carefully pick up every bit of chip she finds about the rrouiids, and order it to be carried to the \ ood heuse ; nayj sometimes she will carry it there herself. She will carefully unpick an old bell-hoop^, niake it into dust- ers and express as much joy as if she had found a treasure. This saving scheme, or any olher^ is sure to be instantly followed hy some kind present to a relative of small fortune : at other times she will take a fit of carefully locking up^ herself, what she would have set by for supper^ instead of leaving it to the housekr eper ; a choice pigeon-pie^ or some rich preserves ; and for thisj Miss Burton will take care, bj some legerdemain tricks^ to make her suf- fer for it ; either by punishing the wine, ©r throwing tlie key of the gate out of the window, when all the family are gone to bed;, that Lady Somerville's wait- iog-maid;, and the other upper servants. SIR JOHN AND LADY SOMERVILLE. 249 Gidish Tricks. may go to a neighbouring ball, which it had, perhaps, neither been convenient or proper for them to attend. But the most ludicrous scene is Sir John Somerville's household on a Sunday winter's eveningv The Knight himself is a most exceikjU man, but a little tainted with dei^tical principles, which often give pain to the real and unaffected piety of Lady Somerville. However, he knows that it is his duty, as a master of a family, to set a good ex- ample : and he always attends divine ser- vice at the parish church, and makes his servants attend, in their turns, when the weather w ill permit : and he really, from liis heart, respects each established reli- gion of all tjie civilized nations. When the severe snows and bad wea- ther will not allow of his family all go- M 5 250 LONDON CHARACTERS. Evening Prayers. ing to church, he reads prayers to them^ on a Sunday evening, and a short sermon. It v/ould require the pencil of a Bun- bury to do justice tothegroupe. It has been a very cold day, and the generous and good natured Sir John has ordered the men-servants a double portion of the best and strongest home-brewed ale ; therefore, with what they purloined them- selves into the bargain, they enter the great parlour well impregnated with raalt and hops, and literally iop-heavj/. The female servants, they get weary long before the sermon begins ; and then the picture of the sleeping congregation is displayed ; the volatile Miss Burton, obliged, malgre elle, to sit still, yields to the power of Morpheus ; and as her , legs do not reach half-way from the chair to the ground, she often disgraces hergelf hj falimg plump on the floor. ITie Sleepv (onqreijation . Fnl.JI.p,u^e ZoO. SIR JOHN AND LADY 90MERVILLE. 251 A sleeping Congregation. The coachman and head-gardener, Avho have both lived with their master forty years^ nod, in opposite directions ; the pretty waiting-maid of Lady Somerville makes most graceful bows to her master, with her eyes sealed up in sleep ; and the subaltern servants.in the back-ground, are sometimes heard to snore, in deep tones, aloud. But it has happened, too, that when Sir John has dismissed them with his blessing, that a second draught of ale, between the coachman and gardener, de- stroy that peace which the master's reli- gious precepts have been endeavouring to inculcate ; and these two old servants go on, fighting, as far as the parlour- doors, till the good Sir John is obliged to use his efforts to quell the tumult ; while each declares, respectively, he will not live any longer in his place, unless his comrade is discharged. " My dear, says Sir John to his Lady, M 6 252 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Duet between Sir John and my Lady. '' this is shocking ! this is dreadful I what are we to do ? I cannot part with Tho- mas, my gardener ! No one understands my hot-hooses, nor my late and early peaches, in which I take so much pride, and which are allov/ed to be so superior to any in the country, as he does. The coachman mu&t go !" — " My dear," re. plies Lady Somerville, " if John goes, I will never enter the chariot again ; no one shall drive me but John : so do as you please.'* Very soon an arrangement takes place between the good Knight and his Lady, which is, that, as they are such old and good servants, they must keep them both : and John and Thomas, presuming on their long services, and different useful powers, still continue to do pretty much as they please ; while little Miss Burton^ all life and activity, can back the most spirited hunter in the stables, makes her- sfclf useful \u the family j increases m SIR JOHN AND LADY SOMERVILLE. 253 The last Stroke to the Portrait. fascination^ and is idolized by the truly worthy Sir John Somerviile and his Lady. To sum up the character of Sir John and liis Lady : the settled character of the gentleman seems inherent in Sir John's composition ; it was stamped on all his lineaments from his birth ; age and in- firmities have it not in their power to do it away from his every movement ; and the accomplishments of his mind and heart shew him incapable of ever committing one single action to militate against that elegant character; whilst^ in tvv^o word?;, my Lady has found the rare secret cf making economy prodigal, and prodigal- ity useful. MRS. WAKEFIELD. " Hominis frugi et tempcrantis functus ofRcium." Ter, 1 HIS ladj^ an dnly child^ had the mis- fortune of losing her mother very early ; and was plagued with one of those penu- rious fathers, whoj abounding in riehes^ are 3 et so terrified with the dread of ab- solutely dying for want, that avarice in- creases in them with every succeeding day ; and their miserable propensities be- come proverbial. Miss Dawson, now Mrs. Wakefield, was possessed of great good-nature, with no idea of saving ; on the contrary, it rather created in her a kind of disgust^ when she witnessed the anxious care of her father in amassing money. She panted after public diversions ; but 256 LONDON CHARACTERS. Cheap Entertainments. the utmost she ever enjoyed was when Mr. Dawson^ taken with a fit of parental fondness, would permit her to behold her Sovereign, as he stepped into his carriage from a crowded levee ; or she might take a peep at his beautiful cream-coloured Hanoverian stud, as they entered the royal stables. These temporary gratifications were but very imperfectly seen ; but then they cost notliing, though they would be sure to be followed by many re- flective remarks, of, how detrimental the gravel of the Park was to shoe-leather* Miss Dawson would often drop a tear, in secret, when she read a newspaper of three days old, lent from a neighbouring public house, whose keeper, in consider- ation of Mr, Dawson's taking half-a-pint of porter every evening, and his recom* mending those people to the house who were foolish enough to spend their money in drink, allowed Mr. Dawson to peruse it for half an liotcr. Poor Miss Daw- MRS WAR5FIELD. 257 No Plca.->ure3 aiiwved but empty Visions, son would there read accounts of masked balls^ plays, suaimer amissemeiits, depar- tures from^ aLduriv.ls to, difierenl water- ing places, and all the routine of fashion- able elegance, with an heart full of wishes, and a bosom panting with the most ambitious desires, to make one in '' the gaj throng/* Alas \ Vauxhall, both the Theatres, the Sans-Soiici, the SanS'Pareilj the Panoramas, and Cosmo- rania, even Mrs. Salmon's Wax-work, were shut out from her, as well as a three- penny puppet-show. She read of the most extravagant dresses, trimmed with lace, velvet, gold, and silver, and even pearls : she saw her- self the luxurious display of fashion, in in all the milliners* and dress-makers' shops, as she walked out ; all her finery consisted in a dark stuff gown, to save washing ; for on no account was she al- lowed to attire herself in white, or wear any cap : but she was permitted unlimit- 258 LONDON CHARACTERS. llcr iires5. ed ml ilgence m curling and disposing her loiig ad d irk hair to the best advan- tage, because that cost nothing. Mr. Dawson, however, did not allow his daughter to walk out quite so often as he used to do, because it wore out her shoes ; she, therefore, from taking little exercise, grew very fat and uninteresting for so young a person. The close manner in which this old gentleman and his daughter lived made many begin to suspect that he really was as poor as he seemed to be ; and not be- ing any way tempted, by the heaiit?/ of the young lady, the fortune-hunters kept off, afraid of being hit themselves ; while the rich and dashing bucks of fashion never thought about her. From a regular series of temperance, and being possessed of a flinty constitu- MRS. WAKEFIELD. 259 Why should you wear a Wi^^ ? tution^ spite of the continual agitations of her mindj Miss Dawson had attained her forty-sixth year, before the old gentle- man, her father, made his exit from this transitory globe. The snows of age had, some years before, (from increased con- finement) fallen oiiher uncovered head'*, in vain she besought her inexorable parent to permit her to wear a cap, if only a black one : no, he liked her hair better. ^' And why, Peggy," said he, " should jou wish to appear younger than you are? Comb your grey locks straight over your temples, and you will look venerable^ and create respect." But Miss Dawson did not yet wish to looji venei^able ; and she continued to twist and twist again the peiiis anneaux d'argent, (the little silvery curls) over her yet comeli/^ cheeks. She one day, by a boW manoeuvre, tried to obtain his consent to her wearing a ivig ! alleging, that she had the rheuma* 260 LONDON CHARACTERS. Her Father's Death. tism so bad in her head, that she must otherwise scud for a doctor. On this^ her enraged parent swore, that if eit- er a tvig or a doctor came into his hru e, he would throw them both into the lire, and herself after 'cm I '' No, no, Peggy/^ he added, '' if you have the rheumatism so bad in ycur upper chamber, why, I wiH lend you one cf my warm, woolieii, red night-caps to comfort you ; which "will look just as well on your head as the fine crimson velvet caps worn by our extrava- gant dames of fashion : wear that in the day, ray old girl, and steam your head over some hot water, at night, before the kitchen fire is put out, and your cam- plaint will soon wheel oST. Miss Dawson, perceiving that she gained nothing, soon was cured ; and, in a few months, the old gentleman, having purchased the v^hole^ the very whole, of a lottery ticket,. in the ardent hopes of accumulation, but which came up a MRS. V/AKEflELD. 2GI Cf, blaiik, soon fretted himseif into his grave ! Miss Dawson now found herself in possession of a most imimense and almost incalculable fortune ; she resolved, then;, to make herself amends for the life of penance she had so long endured : she first buried her father, with cost and ex- pence, but no more magniiicence tiian accorded with his situation in life^ that of a wealthy citizen. She set up a most elegant carriage, her liveries were rich, and herself the pattern of expensive and mourning fashion. During the early period of her sables, she visited Brighton^ Margate, and the Isle of Wi«:nt ; her richiS made hr society hailed wi(h condescending aflk- bility, and her fashionable acquaintance began to be extensive. Early in the ensu- ing wiiitet she went to Bath, and entered "26*3 LONDON CHARACTERS, She passes the Winter in London. into every expence in that region of ex- travagance : but she had a few grains of her father's prudence in her composition, and she took care to give the adventurers, -with which that place abounds, no chance towards the possession of her person and fortune. She felt herself so truly happ}^, v/hj, thought she, should she change her situation ? She was flattered, feasted, ca- ressed, and even courted; she should cer- fainlv, at her age, lose the latter gratifi- cation, if she became a wife. Si e concluded the winter in London; was either at one or other of the theatres every evenings or the Opera, attending the routs of her new acquaintance, or giving her own brilliant parties. In the spring she threw off the '* out- ward garb of woe,*' and, dressed in all the elegant costume of the newest fashions, gbe repaired to pay a visit to a married lady^ in the full prime of her life, and MRS. WAKEFIELD. 268 She retires ro a Friend in the Country. who had been an occasional visitor at ber father's : as she was a very lovely and amiable woman. Miss Dawson entertained a sincere regard for her. Nothing could be more calculated to inspire certain tender ideas than the charming* situation of this friend's house : the banging groves^ inhabited by pairing turtles, the sloping lawn, and shady, mys- terious summer-house, all imparted a kind of luxurious, though innocent, thrill to a warm imaginatioup Miss Dawson might, if we may be al- lowed to use the expression, be stsled ijoung of her age ; and from the auxilia- ries of dress, a beautiful chevelure made to copy nature most closely, and being naturally not ( f a bad complexion, she did not look an undesirable woman. Amongst the visitors who frequented this hospitable mansion^ was a young "261 ' LONDON CHARACTERS. The coin Addresses of a reverend Gentleman. clerg'jman; who, heariog of Miss Daw- son*s splendid fortune^ having no partica- iar attachment^ and very little nioney^ he resolved to pay his court to the wealthy virgin. The Reverend Mr. Morgan is^ cer- tainly^ a very good^ sensible, little man ; and does honour to his profession, by the accoroplishnients of his mind and the pu- rity of bis morals : if he has a fault, it is that of being rather too fond of taking care of the " main chance :" but when a man is a younger brother in a large fa- mily^ brought up with strict economy to know the true value of money, there is much to be pleaded in his excuse. Young Morgan became unremitting in his attentions to Miss Dawson; and she was much struck with the young divine. A company of players arrived in the MRS, WAKEFIELD* 265. Want of Courage. town ; the master of the house loved his friend over a bottle^ and rural sports, much better than those the theatre af- forded. The Reverend David Morgan was, therefore, appointed to escort the ladies. The mistress of the house had so severe an head-achj that she excused herself from going, and Miss Dawson was to be attended, alone, hy her insensi- ble iiiamorato : he really, then, intended to make his addresses in form ; but found his heart misgive him every time the se- cret vtas mounting to his^lips; and, for that evening, it there expired ! Miss Dawson ventured to take him^ tenderly, by the hand, as he walked with her up the avenue which led to her friend's house. Oh ! frigid, cold-hearted swain! he let fail his unmeaning hand into her*s like a piece of inanimate wood, and quickly drew it away ! The lady felt her pride much hurt. Poor Morgan was an honest, warm-tempered Cambrian, y^i TOL. II. N 266 LONDON CHARACTERS The Advice of a Friend. could not melt at the advances of gray- headed virguiity. She would not sit down with him to supper ; she affected indisposition, and re- tired to her chaaiber : before she tried io compose herself to sleep^ she confessed her slighted love to her friend. This lady wished them both well ; she thought Morgan too young for Miss Dawson^ but she knew he was a worthy man, and that he would always behave to her with that attention as is due to a getitlewoman ; and also^ that the lady could do more for him in one hour than all the rich patrons of the Church would do tor years. 8he, therefore^ told Miss Daw sen J that she was sure if her frit nd Morgan had been cool and distant-, it v^as from a seise of his own inferiority in point of fortune ; and thai if he had evil ced any raptures, she must have tlioiight them artiiicialj or only origin- MRS. WAKEFIELD, S67 The Doctor's Destiny is not to have her. -ating; in the idea of his being put in pos- isession of her riches: ^' and,'* added she, ^'^ I dare say, he thinks that the \irtuous inclination you feel for him is truly Platonic!'* But Miss Dawson was not so very p^r/- tonic in her ideas ; and though peace was restored, and matters seemed last drawing to the important crisis of matrimony. Miss Dawson complained to her friend, that Morgan was rea'ly the coldest of lovers ; for, in all their frequent walks and tete" a-tete, he had never once offered to salute her! I However, poor Morgan's destiny was soon sealed ; he one night, by the help of a few glasses extraordinary of Ma- deira, confessed his, can we call it, pas- sion, in form, and seemed irrpatient for his fair one to name the happy day : but all this was not accompanied b} one v en- tie embrace, or even one tender pressure k2 268 LONDON CHARACTERS. A new Suitor- of her vestal hand. Silly man ! had he appeared more warm in his love for her person, she might have been in an yielding moment of affectionate tenderness induced to make him the master of her store of wealth ; but he shewed that to be so much his object, that, when they began to speak of settlements, he very impoiitieally refused to settle any part of it on his dear Margaret -, who instantly broke off the connection, and repaired to London. Here she saw a very elegant young man, belonging to the Law, of the name of Wakefield ; whose scanty purse could by no means keep pace with his fashion- able ideas. He soon found out her failing, and profited by it ; but how has he pro- fited ? he has shewn himself a truly ge^ laerous and grateful man. In his days of courtship nothing could exceed the ardour or the warmth of his caresses, his wishing, sighs, or persuasive MRS, WAKEFIELD. ^69 Real good Policj''. looks : the lady with a coquettish gig'gie, said one day to him, '' Come, come, I know it is only my fortune that you want/' '' Noj madam/' replied he, I trust to your generosity to support me, as the gentleman who has the honour of being your husband ; if you grant me the felicity of calling your person mine, in a legal way, your large fortune shall be entirely settled upon yourself* The lady would not be outdone in li- berality ; she divided her fortune in two unequal parts, settling the largest portion on her young husband ; who, with true nobleness of spirit, the day after their marriage, settled it again on herself, that he might never be tempted in any future moment of distaste to treat her with neglect. Mrs. Wakefield has lately made her will, appointing him her sole heir ; but N 3 270 rONDON CHARACTERS. Homespun Happiness. no adoring husband can be more atten- tivcv or more diiigently assiduous to pre- serve her inconstant health and cheerful- ness ; she is one of the happiest of mar- ried womeU;, and her grateful husband and herself have but one purse in com- mon between them. Such is naturally the result of an union Avith a man whose heart and miiid are in- trinsicaiij goodj and governed bj the principles of rectitude^ feelings and libe- rality. Mr. Wakefield reflects with pitj on the bloom of his wife's early years, and the sunaner season of her life^ wasted niidcr the severe control of an avaricious parent. He finds her invariably pleased and good-humoured. She makes his home comfortable 5 and he enjo} s through her bounty all the elegancies of fashion, and the luxuries of polished life. Though the smiles of youth no longer embellish Mrs. Wakefield's countenance, yet she MRS. WAKEFIELD. 27 i Conclusion. ever weicoraes him with a smile ; ard as she increases in years^, she disgusts not by assuming a girlish fondness^ hvd shews herself on ali occasions to be bis kind^ generous, and steady friend. N 4 MR. BORRAGE, This gentleman was the son of a farmer^ near Taunton ; and having lost his father and mother when he was hardly ten years of age^ received his education from his grandmother^ who took a particular care to infuse in him, what she called the essence of virtue — Economy. Not poor, yet niggardly parsimonious, she found in her pupil a mind naturally apt to imbibe her principles. She sent hini to school at Wellington, where he learned, with amazing q'lickness, the elements of writing, and the multiplication-table. At fifteen he was articled to an attorney at Bridgewater, where the genial turn of his mind apprehended, with uncommon facility, all the tricks and niysteries of chi- cane. His master, who had been fer n5 274 LONDON CHARACTERS., Industry and Economy the Parents of Wealth. many years the land"ste\vard of a dozen of country squires in the neighbourhood;^ finding in young Borrage a fit person to succeed him in a business so profitable, and from which he intended goon to retire;, promi&ed him, as a reward for his itssiduity to the desk^ and his ability at reckoning and swelling accounts, and at ]&d gave him,, his daughter in marriage. Industry and economy ai e always sure to produce riches ; and, possessing these two qualities in an eminent degree, Mr. Bor- Tage soon perceived that the precious stream of Pactolus had taken its course through his enlarged premises. But the country was not a stage sufiicieatly ex- tensive to display his talents ; he sold his concern to advantage^, aodj. speculating^ Htill farther on the means of increasing his fortune, repaired to the metropolis, where his daily and most important correspond- ence had made him already well knows as a Hiost intelligent Attorney. MR. BORRAGE. 2?5 A Change in his v^haracter. A Latin poet^ well known for the sagacity and justness of his observations, has said, that those who travel may chan«;8 place, but do not change their temper *; how- ever, this cannot be applied to Mr. Bor- rage, for as soon as he had made his es- tablishment in one of the first squares of the west end of the town, and opetied an office in one of the inns, all his bent for economy and industry w^as biassed by the many temptations daily oilered to him. He grew proud, and launched, blindfolded, in all sorts of extravagaociesw Leaving to his clerks the burthen of busi- ness, he v/ould never condescend to take any trouble about his clients, except when they were of the first rate, and nothing short of a coronet could obtain a personal consultation from him. His wife rushed, on her side, into all *Coeiumnon anirauna mutant qui trans inarecurrunt. HORAT, N 6 276 LONDON CHARACTERS, " ■ I r . ■ » ■■.■■«■ Effects (if plebeian Pride. the follies and expences of fashion and high life, and, too much addicted to gambling speculations, and revelling par- ties, worked herself soon to a state of stupidity, which nothing could palliate abroad or remedy at home. They had no children living. She separated from her husband, who treated her with sove- reign contempt, and retired to Berkshire, her native county, where she ended in a slow decline a life which had become both indifferent to herself and burthen- some to her friends. In a plebeian mind pride is an exotic, heterogeneous plants it generally destroys the ground it has fermented upon, or soon dies away and leaves nothing behind .but foolish insignificancy; like the Jamaica raven, who, when he courts the hens of the farmer's yard, produces an offspring whose birth causes the death of the mo- ther fowl, its ejects are monstrous, and the stifling of all good q^ualities there im-- MR. BORRAGE. 277 Want of Manners. planted before is an unavoidable result of its workings. Mr. Borrage was a striking instance of it. He soon forgot his origin, and;, courted bj flatterers, was swoln with the most iiisufterable vanity. He saw company^, and gave dinners ; but seldom would deign to address his guests, who would have starved at table, if, through a noble spite against their un- couth, uncivilized host, they had not^with a rudeness which could not be authorised or equalled but by bis own uncivil con- duct, helped themselves freely of what they had at hand on the inhospitable board. They used to keep him in countenance till he had drank himself to sleep ; and when his servant had carried him to bed, they enjoyed themselves and quaffed his wine with a vengeance^ Mr. Borrage led thig kind of life foy 278 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Funeral Oration. several yearSj treating men whom he de^ spised because they praised his wine^ and who despised him because he did not praise them. His ilhiatu redness grew apace : a single servant^ an old man^ whO;, by the hope of seeing his name at h\\U length in the will of his master^ could pa- tiently smile when he was foaming witli^ rage, that man had been fx)r many years the only person who could live at his house. However^ his obsequiousness was not^ rewarded as he expected; for^ at his death, a day of jubilation for his heirs at law^ no will of any kiiul was produced or found — it is supposed that the friend in whose hands he had deposited it^ had^ hy some accident^ destroyed it^ and that those^, who had signed it as witnesses, were dead. Five poor families in some parishes of Son.ersetshirc dividcci iiis fortune^ andused to say, when speaking of him, "^^ Cousin Joe was just like that there pig — good foir, nothing 'till he w^as dead. MR. BORRAGir. 279 An Epitaph. Though expressed in the rude words of those peasants^ this funeral oration has a poignant meanings and we should re- commend it as a proper epitaph for all proud^ upstart parvenm, who, blinded by affluence and riches^ despise both the rules of society and the ties of nature^, and live entirely for themselves. THE LAST I^VENING AT LAUREL VILLA. — — Male verura cxaminat omws Corruptus judex ——" Horat. All the elegant card-boxesj tric-trac:, and chess tahles^ were packed up^, and the noble trio had the barouche ordered at ten the next mornings to convey them part of their journey to town^ as they intended to pay several visits in their way to some friends and distant relatives. In the barouche were to travel the Duchess, her son^ and daughter; while her head waiting-womaUj whose attendance, since her blindness, she continually want- ed, was to ride on the box with the coach- man : two new carriages covered with matting, one belonging to the Marquis 282 LONDON CHAJIACTERS, A Plan for other Lectures. of Waltham wefe to bring up the rear^ and contain the rest of the female ser- vants. They were sitting, taking their wine and autunnial fruity which the hot-house still afforded them in pcrfccliuii, after a late dinner^ when the Duchess broke si- lence by saying, '' Charlotte has not kept her word ; the first time I ever knew the'^dear, precise, conscientious creature^ falsify a promise." Lady Charlotte laughed, and said, " Now, my dear Duchess, why will you call me precise ? But what can you mean by your accusation V* " I thought," replied her Grace, ''that you promised us a very fine sentimental history of true existing characters, in the shape and style of a novel I" '' I plead guilty/* said Lady Charlotte* LAST EVENING AT LAUREL VILLA. 285 A polite Excuse. '' In the first place, I found the story, to do it justice, would take up such consi- derable length, thatyoiir Grace, who does not like any thing which borders on the romantic, would be quite weary ; and i must have depicted in it the characters of two unnatural brothers, who, though they deserve to be exposed, stand &o high in the great worlds in rank and eminencCj that I thought my pen should not flow with that gall, which it must unavoida- bly have done in describing their charac- ters 'y and, if my papers by any unforeseen accident should be lost, it might be at- tended with very unpleasant consequences to me. And now, my dear brother, con- tinued she, addressing the Marquis, *' Where is your wanton widow so long promised ?" " Why I will tell you, ladies," said the Marquis; '^ my wanton widow is so very wanton, that I must either suppress ihectief and most entertaining part of her 284 LOND(m CHARACIERS. Ruins and Vestiges of departed Beauty. life^ or else offend you by tlie recital of her forward follies : but will you permit me to give you a sketch of the beautiful Miss Doncaster ?" *'' Beautiful, indeed/^ said the Duchess " to a miracle of youthful appearance ; I saw her the beginning of last winter amongst girls of eighteen and twenty at the Hanover-square concerts, and she really looked the youngest of them all/' ^' Your Grace and the honourable Amelia Doncaster used to be spoken of as rival beauties/' said the Marquis. '' Possibly/* said the Duchess, '' but our attractions were quite of a different nature ; Miss Dojcaster was always very lovely, but she never had any thing dignified about her person/* This the unfortunate Duchess uttered with her usual tone of hauteur ; while LAST EVENING AT LAUREL VILLA. 285 Continued. her open forehead^ her handsome Roman nose, and well-formed mouth, shewed how majestic had been that beauty she once possessed, and of which she had yet such fine remains. Her blindness had nothing* in it repellant ; for her eyes were closed ; and the black velvet bandage she generally wore over them imparted softness to her countenance, and created the liveliest feelings of pity and interest in the bosoms of those who beheld her. '' We shall not sit up late to night, Philip," said the Duchess, addressing; herson; ^'^so give us, now, your promised little sketch of the Hebe-like Miss Don^ caster.'' THE HON. AMELIA DONC ASTER. •— Tarde, quas credita laedunt, Credimus — " Ovid. X HIS lady is the possessor of a most im- mense fortune^ and an uncommon shane of beauty, but with an adequate portiv)n of pride to be thrown into the scale with the other two great endowments. Her youthful loveliness is greatly heightened by an unchanged profusion of beautiful auburn resses ; and it may truly be said, that, ia outward ajpear- ance, she is a model of perfection ; for in the uncommon care which is taken of her health, and the varied decorations of her person, she seems to laugh at the power of time or decaj. Miss Don- caster has long, very long, glUteied as^ar in the hemisphere of fashion ; and though the old and middle-aged heaii.v have ^88 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Star in the Firmament of Fashion. quitted her in despair^, who had an eye to her large fortune^ as well as her iine person^ yet the young and gay, who have no conception of her age, (it seldom being the theme of polite conversation), are greatly captivated by the beauty of her countenance and the brilliancy of her w^it : for though she is of a very turbu- lent temper, she can make herself, in com- pany, truly agreeable. As she has servants and dependants to wreak her passion on, she never lets it prey on her own mind to disturb that sweet serenity of physiognomy for which she is so remarkable. To see her reposing on her pillow in the morning, in a gentle and tranquil slumber, she might serve as a model to a Titian for one of nis sleeping beauties; her fair and smooth forehead, shaded by the fine lace of her night-cap, her cheek glowing with the purest and brightest THE HON. AMELIA DONCASTER. f2S9 A Sketch from Titian. tints of roseate nature, while her love^ hreatliing lips, of a deeper vermilion dye, lookj as our divine poet savs, *' Like two red roses on a stalk, '*" That in their Summer beauty kiss'd each other." One evening ]ci^i winter she went to a masquerade attired as a Virgin of the Sun. An elegant Inca kept her in view ; he followed her from room to room ; was enchanted with her wit, the peculiar grace of her movementSj and the loveliness of her figure. She was no less charmed with the Inca, and almost wished her ozc;7Z vows of celibacy conld he as easily broken as those slie had adopted for ihdi night only. The masquerade was not a public one; it was select, and composed of the first nobility. The Inca was impatient for the hour of supper ; and, seated amongst VOL. II. o S©0 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Masquerade. a titled and biglilj respectable part>^, be beheld the priestess of his god. What a blaze of beauty met his eye ! the young- man was like one intoxicated ; he thought he had never before seen so complete a representation of the goddess of youth ; he was astonislied at the bril- liancy and profundity of her intellectual endowments^ in a person of such a girlish countenance, apparently in the lirst bloom of youth. He took off his gilded vizor. A fine, manly, brown-complexioned face, with a pair of larg.e sparkling black eyes, full ^^ of intelligence and sweetness, rivetted her I attention ; they were, in themselves, elo- ^ quence. He recognised many friends in her party, and the tncaVnd theYirgia separ- ^^ted 110 more for that evening. THE HON. AiMELIA DONCASTER. 291 The Inca unmasked. The vows of love^ constancy, and mar- riage, were whispered in her listening ear : though she did not absolutely cause him to despair, she gave him very little reason to hope. He was a younger son of a noble and wealthy house just arrived from abroad: his rank in life was exalted, and an alliance with his family was looked up to by every parent with desire and ambition. She arrived home in the morning about four,, went to bed, and slept well till one o'clock the next afternoon. The intoxicating, fleeting, pleasure of the evening was past ! the sobriety of cool reflection came with the morning. My pride, thought she, even in the softest bloom of my early life, has ever kept me from giving myself a fashionable tyrant to dispute my wiU, and perhaps, o3 292 LONDON CHARACTERS. An Advice from the Pillow. in a few jears^ to despise my person! WJiat^ then^ ^vill it be now ? This day is my birth-day ! this day I am fifty years old ! Shall I marry a man of whom I might have been the mother ? Shall I see these beauties^ he so much extolled^ neglected for the vulgar attractions of some low-born country girl, because she may chance to be possessed of youth- ful charms ! No ; Amelia Doncaster^, never shall any mortal creature be a master over 3'ou ! I will no longer de- ceive the world in respect of my age: my blooming appearance I cannot dis- guise; it is nature, pure, as when she first formed me. I recollect the bewitch- ing Inca last night treated me as if I was a girl much younger than himself: he shall be undeceived ; my Cousin Lydia is a great chatter-box ; I need only tell her my true age, and, buzz, it flies through all the different routs before to-morrow mornins:. I shall still be admired for the exquisite taste and fancy of my dress ; THE HON. AMELIA DONCASTER. 293 A tremendous Resolution. and for beiny- ^vo^derfLll for mv voutli- ful appearance : while the fortune-hunt- ers well knoWj that if mj- pride, when a girl, prcyented me from marrying, it will certainly keep me now from yielding up my person, my fortune, and uncon- trolled power, to an arbitrary husband. I have seen too much amongst my mar- ried friends to envy their lot in any one instance whatever. As soon as she had completed her toi- lette, the wished- for young lady, her cousin. Lady Lydia Doncaster, made her appearance. ^' How lovely you look this morning, my sweet cousin, ''said she; ^^ and how charmingly Newton, (meaning her woman) has pinned on that lacc- turban of your's over your fair forehead: if you looked as charming last night, no wonder you made such havock in the heart of the Honourable General Cuth- bert.^* o3 294 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Lady telling her Age ! Shocking. '' Mj Dear Ljclia/' replied the smil- ing Miss Doncaster, '' this is mj birth- day/' " Well/' said Lady Lydia, '' I never knew you own to a birth-daj before." ^^ Yes,'* said Miss Dancaster, '' 1 am this day, sweet j^/ (and makaig a loiagpause, she concluded it with) teen'' " Indeed '/' replied Lady Lydia, '' you really astonish nie; badinage apart, I thought you were only sweet four^ — ~ teen," " Fif teen, I assure you/* replied Miss Doncaster ; ^^ and I will not offenel the chaste and bright luminary, of which I was last night the priestess, even to avail myself of the permission that is given us to marry an Inca." The lively cousins soon parted ; and THE HON. AMELIA DONCASTER. 295 The Secret imparted to the Tabbies. '. ■ - ■ ■ "" ' ' - ■> • "■"■■-■: it was not long before Miss Doncaster's real age was soon exactly known in every fashionable circle in London 5 and those venerable tabbies^ who could no longer themselves appear young, readily apRrmed the truth of what they were well ac- quainted with* Miss Doncester still continues the most extravagant and fashionable modes of dress ; an artful waiting-maid mak<}s her place a sinecure ; she has but to say, that such a gown sits ill to her shape, that the train is awkward; or to find some such fault ; Miss Doncaster throws away the gown, however costly, saying, '•' Take it away ; take it out of my sight ; keep it yourself, and never let me see it again.** An artful girl knows, that when her mistress is possessed of refined and acute sense, like Miss Doncaster, she must not repeat these manoeuvres too often; but the waiting-maid of this expensive lady, o 4 296 LONDOir CHARACTERS. The General's Retreat. by playing' her cards well^ makes rear three hundred a-year by the spoils of her mistress's wardrobe. The temper of MissDoncaster has been observed lately to increase in asperity: we rather think, in her total rejection of General Cuthbert, she felt very severe pangs of self-denial : he easily gave up the pursuit, when he learned, with astonish- ment, the age of his beautiful virgin of the sun ! not being a man willing or de- sirous of uniting himself to a woman so many years older than himself, for the sake of her wealth or present personal en- dowments, which he, as well as many others, seems w illing to think chiefly ow- ing to art: but in this opinion Miss Done aster is highly wronged. Yet General Cuthbert is still single ; and Miss Doncaster, on that occasion, is not without a sweet emotion of pleasur- able vaviity, when she reflects that, per- haps, it may be on her account. THE HON. AMELIA DONCASTER. S97 Public Opinion. But she is mistaken; General Cutli- bert is perfectly cured, not only by a knowledge of her age, but by that of her violent and imperious temper. She is indebted to nothing but all-bountiful nature for the transcendent and uncommon charms of her person ; but as no one will believe it, and as no one dares accuse her, she has the reputation of being en« tirely made up : it is in vain her real friends and intimates,wh) are accustomed to penetrate iito her chamber and dress- ing-room, affirm the contrary ; envy and malice make them shut their ears agains their veracity, and Miss Doncastcr lives the victim of the most unmerited sus» picion. The care she takes of her health, lest the freezing northcrnwindshould blow on her beautiful lips, and profanely chap ne in all the possession of blooming youth and splendid maturity : for, at those periods of her life, her's was the proud beauty of a Roxana, or a Cleo- paha, towcrihg over her inferiors, and exacting homage from all : as her charms were of that kind which time is not ca- pable ever of wholly subduing, but by deaths placidity, content, and resignation^ now embellished the beautifi I ruin : ^nd appeared to render her outward at- tractions of a new and more pleasing kind. From keeping regular and early hours, from taking rather less exercise than for- merly, she had grown plump ; and her wrinkles were far less perceptible than at the time she aspired^ by girlish nudity and the display of a withered throat, to counteract the influence of the levelleri, Time. 304 LONDON CHARACTERS. Imprudenre of the Duke. Flatlerj ag:ain as.^ailecl the wealthy, the magnificent Duchess ; again, she sometimes could scarce help slightly lend^ ing a willing ear to the music of praise. But a misfortune which overtook her husband, now helped to finish the great work which her own blindness had be- gan. Amongst the many vices of fashion to which the Duke was addicted was an incorrigible love for gaming. From the profusion of wealth he en- joyed, he scarce knew the extent of the immense sums he had lost ; for though so fond of play, fortune had by no means a mutual affection for him, for he wa& generally a loser. He left all his affairs to his steward ; fortunately, a man of integrity ; but a man of integrity cannot render money an ever flt-wing spring for a careless extravagaat nobleman. DUKE OF PYRMONT*S FAMILY. 30i> Gambling, and its dreadful Effects. One evening, at a noted gaming-house in St. James's-strcetj his grace lost an enormous sum : he plaved for his revenge; played till six the next morning, doubled his ventures each time^ and as the last desperate effort staked the reversion of the Pyrmont estates against twenty- thousand pounds. The chance of the dice was in favour of his adversary ! he generously told the Duke^ who had already lost upwards of sixty-thous"and pounds^ that he might make it up an hundred, and he would ^i\e up every claim to the reversion of all the rents of the ducal estate. Tlie wary Lord had calculated the Duke's losings from time to time ; he knew the estate must be encumbered. Stung wi(h pride, though accepting* the ofler, promising to send a draft in the morning ; maddened with his ill success, the Duke repaired kome : vain were all 306 LONDON ClIAllACTEKS- A Consultation with a trusty Steward the luxuries of his stately bed-chamber^ vain the soft bed of down^ on which he threw himself, to afford him one moment's comfort or repose ! and before nine^ he was with his steward^ who declared to his gracCj that he had not ten thousand pounds in the world ! that he must recol- lect the heavy mortgages already on the Pyrmont estates, and that his artful ad- versary, at play, had only made his pro- posal from affected generosity ; but in fact, to rid himself of the reversion, with such troublesome appendages. '^ I was to send him a draft or cash, this morning, to the tune of forty thou- sand pounds ! he has already won sixty of me, I think I might bje allowed, if we cannot raise the money, to stick to my first proposal, and let him have the re- version/'* said the Duke. " My Lor^. Duke,'* said the Steward, ^* I do not think it justice to your son to DUKE OF PYRMONTS FAMILY. 307 Continuation. give up the revenues of the Pyrniont estate in that manner," '' True^ and Philip is not extravagant;*' replied the Duke : '' he may be able^ in a few years' time, after my deaths to buy £>ff' the mortgages ; I will write a draft PB my banker for the forty thousaiad pounds^ and you shall take the cash iQ that gambler. Lord Henry ; for, wouM you believe it, he actually made an ob- jection to taking my draft. '^ My Lord Duke, these gentlemen, who live almost, (and I am sorry to say so of any nobleman,) by the ill luck of others at the gaming table, generally take care to inform themselves of the depth of their opponent's credit at their various bankers: and I am sorry to inform your grace, that it is of no use my presenting the draft for any thing like that sum at your bank- er's ; he refused to honour the draft I took for you after you went out yesterday 308 LONDON CHARACTERS. Unexpected Generosiiy. mornin^^ and which was only for nine thousand pounds; he said^ he had alrea- dy given you sixty thousand, forty of which was in advance! I assure you, my Lord Duke, your pecuniary affairs are in a desperate condition, from your con- tinual ill luck at play; and though I have so repeatedly requested your grace to look into them, you have kept putting me off, from day to day^ and from year to year. It is a remark which is founded on the strictest veracity, that, when the sight is gone, the hearing is of all other senses the most fine and acute : a kind and be- neficent Providence has so ordered it, to maketheprivation of that gratify ingsense^ the visual faculty, less severe. The Duchess had just quitted the steward's room ; how different had been the motives of her visit! She had just taken from him two thousand pounds> DUKE OF PYRMONT's FAMILY. 309 Impatience and Curiosity. to be employed in charitable uses: she heardj as she passed out of Ibe door of the apartment;, her husband enter. The sound of embarrassment and distress dwelt on his address to his steward ; she stopped, she heard all — she felt the arm of Ladj Charlotte tremble as she buns: on it. '55 *' We have lived/* said the Duchess, ^^ long' together as strangers: but he is ray husband;, he is the father of my chil- dren!" and^ pressing her Charlotte with affection to her hearty she retired to her apartment. She sent for the Duke to come to her ; he answered her by a polite apology, that^ not being very well, it was then im- possible. By a second message, she told him, it was of the utmost importance to them both that he came to her immediately. With slow and unwilling footsteps^ 210 LONDON CHAUACTERS. A most admirable Behaviour. •-: , . : r , ■ 1-1- ' " ' ■ a contemptuous lip, and frowning brow, he entered, exclaiming*, " Madam, T sent jou word it was not convenient for me to attend jou. And what can possibly be your reason? Why such earnestness in desiring an interview with me? I believe your father took care to put it out of my power to make you any way dependant on nie ; and as you do not play very hig-ii, I should imagine your almost princely reveiiue suiiicient for your pecuniary concerns/* ''My Lord/* said the Duchess, with unassumed patience and mildness^ *^ par- don me ; it is a favour of a pecuniary nature that 1 have to ask of you, which made me so anxious to speak with you.'* Finding him about^ with inijjetuous sur- prise, to interrupt, — the exclamation of '' Good Heavens ! Madam,** having escaped him, she said, with quickness, *' my Lord^ you were always a polite DUKE OF PYRM0NT*5 FAMILY. 311 Retrospect. man ; suffer me to speaks and when I have done, testify surprise, or what jou please. '' Half of the large fortune bestowed upon me when I married you, you were generously pleased to settle entirely upon myself, giving up every future claim to it : this I now w ish to bestow upon your. Grace : I know you are in want of it, 1 m\\:y desire ta retain the estate of Laurel Yilla^ and which, you know, I am not allowed to part with : ai«i why, when I have diamonds amounting in value to more than one hundred thousand pounds, why should your Grace know v* hut it is to be in want of forty? What is the lustre of the finest jewels now io me ? Age and vanity have closed my eyea against their brilliancy ^ therefore, for this last offered gift, you will be under no obligations to me. My fortune, which I shall instantly 312 LONDON CHARACTERS. Retrospect. give orders to be paid into your hands, and resigning myself all future claim to it;, will more than buy oft' the mortgages on the Pyrmont estate ; and I beg leave to reside entirely in my now beloved re- tirement of Laurel Villa: and, oh! mv Lord^ sufter me, ere we part, to warn you against the inordinate and fatal love of play which now possesses you/' Thus did this generous woman give up her highest acquisitions of fortune, to save the honour and retrieve the circum- stances of a man she had never loved ; from whom she had experienced no one attention, which might draw the affec- tions of her heart towards him ; what she bad styled generosity was an act of ostentation only, to make him thought much of in the eyes of the Duke of Ben- ningsen ; the half of his daughter's large fortune, when added to the Pyrmont re- venues, and by making over the other half to her, the allowance he made her DUKE OF rVRMONT's FAMILY. 315 t ..... ■ . - ■ ' > ' . • • f. Gratitude and Sincerity. ,- ' '. for her menus plaisirs, was the less li- beral. She received from him, after the verf first fortnight of their union^ nothing' but a series of infidelities and open dis- like down to the present time. The Duke now looked on his wife with amazement ! Gratitude, that divine prin- ciple, animated his bosom : ''' Noble El- niira ! " said he, ^' Oh ! that I had sooner known how to appreciate thy worth !** And he clasped her to his breast wittf an ardour he had never felt for her in her more youthful days. ^' I deserve not your praises, my Lord/* said she ; '' I have been long worthless r the aflection of a wife, the duties of a mother, have been unknovvu to, as un- practised by, me:' had one of us been l)etter, it might have rendered both so. VOL. II. P 314 LONDON CHARACTERS, The Duke's Moderati(vn. And now, my Lord, I intreat you, iii" stantly, to release yourself from obliga- tion to the gambling Fenroy : I shall send for my lawyer to see the deeds exe- cuted. Though the Duke did not take his wife's diamonds, which she did not stre- nuously urge, as she meant them for a present to her daughter ; yet he was too much embarrassed not to thankfully ac- cept the donation of her fortune, which she so peremptorily oHVred : at this we cannot much wonder; he had no romantic generosity, accompanied with self-denial, in his composition ; his affairs had be- come desperate, and he knew, also, that the Duchess, when she had once deter- mined on any thing, was not easily di- i?erted from her purpose. It was certain, that this his last loss deeply penetrated his mind; for though DUKE OP PVRMONT's FAMILY. 315 Ladv Charlotte is married- he plaved with avidity^ and sometimes high, he played with caution, and took care it should not he for more than he could afford to lose. Though late, he imbibed a sincere re- gard for his wife: he even paid her a long visit, for the first time in his life, at Laurel Villa, the ensuing spring; went but verj seldom to Cousin Toui's, and had no regular expensive chere amie. Lady Charlotte married a worthy no- bleman of high rank and splendid for- tune ; who is pleased that she should divide her time with her mother, either at Laurel Villa, or, during the winter, by h<^r Grace's becoming an inmate of his Lordship's different mansions at Bath and London. The Marquis of Waltham has jet shewn no sig-ns of reformation, either p2 S\6 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Marquis does not improve. actual or in prospect : bis mornings are passed in Bond-street^ fashionable exhi- bitions, and driving a newlj-constructed carriage of his own invention, to shew the eccentricity of his taste, as it is some- thing between an hearse and a jaunting car. He devotes a few minutes of his evenings to the theatre ; sometimes lounges away an hour at the Opera j takes often an expensive supper at Cousin Tom*Sj and concludes, before he reaches home, with a peep at the Finish ! ! ! Alas ! such useless beings as the Mar- quis of Waltham, a perverter of his own fine talents and understanding, are most, of the youths of the present day ; but there are still some gc^od, some highly exalted, worthies in existence; however depraved the manners of the age, they stand unshaken : to such we have endea- voured to pay a just tribute of praise; and the pleasure we felt in delinc^ating DUKE or pyrmont's family. 317 Conclusion. the heavenly^ though rare, features of Virtue, makes full amends for the painful task we had to perform in lashing severely the votaries of Vic^* m ■ ^3 THE TRIAL 1 ATIMA CLARKIS. A FRAGMENT OF AN ORIENTAL TALE, fOUNl) AMONG THE PAPERS Of .SIR. BARN A BY SKETCHWELL. Translated from the Original, when at Smyrna, aiul arcoraniodated to the present Times, by him- sdf, a frwOavs before his Death. 1 . llie Jifti . 'i . Ftitiniii fnnnituj up n new fuH . 3. TailorLsk-n . f. ('.jpt'! Siiiiiloiuis.s-c . .). Ciipiil the JrbitTottn' ot promotion,'!. Vui/' ■ f'J/je .'in . THE TRIAL OF FATIMA CLARKIS, *' Notumque farens quid fffimina possit.'* VlKn. ** Hell has no Fury like a Woman scon/d.'* LT is written ou the sacred leaves of the Koran, chap. vii. v. 10. that a certain diescription of ladies * shall not be admit- * Indeed, the Turkish commentators, who are iiot much to be commended for their politeness toward- the ladies, are of opinion/ tliat the whole b^ the" iai* sex is included in this tremendous anathema ; so ■ even, rr.uch more to be admired for the lengt: their whiskers, .thaiii if hfiir^obH isen^, uiiH-haV'^ * , in spite of all, that women, though mistreise^r -^ i our hearts, have no souls of their own. p 5 S23 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Complaint of the Favourite. ted to the glories and everlasting ciijoj- inents of the Prophet's ParadisCj after their rising from the chamber of darkness^ but that they will onljbs allowed, occa- sionally, to peep through the golden rail- ing of the garden of Delices, and pine i ivvardly at the sight of ecstacies they never can be permitted to share with the faithful and their blooming Uourii. If it be SO5 and who dares doubt it ?^ — hatd is the fate of poor innocent "Tailori^ko. that young Circassian;, who, an imiiate in the Harem of the Ac a *, witnessed all, or at least maiiy, of the pleasures enjoyed there^ and, as she declares, had not the slightest participation in them. Neither in this, or in the other life, will she find real- ity tangible, and her miserable doom is to run after shadows, as the boys do in the plains of Sephar after gaudy butterflies. * The Commander in Chief in the Turkish Em- l)ire. THt: TRIAL OF FATIMA. 323 Her Reflexions. Ill vaia the Merchant^ the Dragoman, the decrepid Dcrvises^ ilie sensualist^ the compassionate^ have untied the knotty strings of their reiuctant purses to fill up a subscription in her favour j her fat le is flown for ever. Every one speaks of T'/iz/oriska ; the eunuchs gnash their p-in^erbxead teeth at the foolish girl, arid en tlie mutes busy their crooked fingers to talk of her. A pretty tutorcssj indeed, for our young slaves of the Flarem ! Why, surely, she was not, could not be, ignorant that her be- witching friend and relation, the smile- loving dame Fatima Clarki.s, the mingre- lian widow, Mas deceiving the t< :> care- less, too confident Aga, and undermining, by her guilty tricks, and pecuniary spe- culations, the honour of that ance much- beloved Commander-in-Chief of the in- vincible forces of the Sublime Porte! and she had also the impudence of deposing against poor Me, who, the Prophet knows^ p6 324 LONDON CHARACTERS. Conclusion of her Soliloquy, am as guiltless as the very ass* who carried him through the spheres. Alia ? Alia ! what will be the end of u§ now ?" Such were the melancholy reflex- ionSj the ejaculations;, ihe complaint of the FAVOURITE Katon Kaja f, as she was leaving the magnificent hall w here the Divan had sat for several suc- ceeding nights in impartial judgment upon the General of all the armies of the Silver Crescent X. * Al Borahj the famous animal said to have carried Mahomet in his aerial jouineyj an int'raate friend of, ^nd near relation to, the Pegasus of Ovid, the Hippo- griff of A riosto^ and the Aliboron of Voltaire. f 4 Katoji Kaja is a sort of Matron ;, or Duenna, •to whose care the young females cf the S.ragiio are intrusted ; they participate in all the gossips^ whis- pering trade, and intrigues of the place. if Some very deep commentators are of opinion, that the silver crescent mentis that itind of prnamentwhicii is woiD by these who are uniiiithful to their wives^ as THE TRIAL OF FATIMA. 325 Retrospect. The Katon Kaja had been acquainted with all the spurious broods Fatima had hatched under the wings of the short- sighted Aga, but bh'nd to her own con- nivance^ she excused herself most kindly upon her being a dependant, menial ser- vant, a kind of being whO;, in the Turk- ish as any other empire, think themselves without sins, and talk boldly of propriety., preciseness, and virtue, because they are merely, and to all purposes, the obedient and humble servants of a sinner, Immaums and veteran ofiicers among the Jannissaries, iniic'cv hoots and cleaa clippers, had bought up theKaja's inter- est, to obtain admission to tlie red mo- rocco pccket-book of Fatima, the mother of prcfcrmeiits ; but the Sun of her bright- est daj s was immersed in the clouds of disappointment for ever, and through the the crescent of gold is worn by those whose .wives are unfaiihfal to them. — Ovid. Met. 326 LONDON CHARACTERS. A Change of ForturiC \ - .,..,.■.,.. ■ , ' ,.. ■ . ^.^ ..,:, rs streets of Constautiiioplej «be Katon met^ or thought that she me»;, nothing else but funerals, bastinadoes^ empalenients^ and gibbets. Her mind was distracted, her dreams frightfulj and after a sleepless and distressing nightj she rose at the hoarse noise of the Minarets/and hastened to her late mistress. She did not find her as before^ oil an Egyptian sopha, pressing with her lilj-white hand the gilt head of the Sphynx of Canopus, or plajing, at the thousand lighis of a Chinese candelabre, on the viol or dulcimer, Fatima Clarkis was alonCj and a small lamp bestowed a bluish glare on a white sheet of papyrus she was staining with the memoirs of her life, for she had engaged to sell them to the c/-r/eDaA// Bashaw of Pliilipi^' opolis in the lesser Asia, " Well, favourite, what news do you bring ?" said she to the Katon, as soon as she entered the room. '^None^ ma'am. T HE T R I A L F F A r ! M A . Sv^T t-'W. ■ -..■■..■ ..... ■ . ,,,...;■,.,,..- ■■"■ v. Second Retrospect, but that your name, your pretty friend Tciilorkkar's, and mine are warbled all over the town and country by public singers ; and that those w ho seemed to favour your disclosures call you now a common prostitute.*'* — " By Mahonietr' exchiirned the enraged Clarkis '* and h this what 1 have to expect for my reward? Oh ! sweet Revenge^ how bitter are the dregs of thy C4ip l" Tailoriska was really, as most of the beauties of the Harem, a daughter of CHANCE ;f and indeed^ when interrogated before the high tribunal of the Divan, by the venerable and learned members who composed the court, she hesitated, and nearly refused tellingthetruth of her origin and profession: however, it was pretty well ascertained that she had wandered from See " The News'*, Sunday, March 26. -^The supply of young women brought every year to repair the losses of the Harems are girls found by chance, or daughters of Christians or Jews, stolen from iheir paternal abodes. « 32S LONDON CHARACTERS, Third Retrospect. place to place, with a small innocent co- vey of young* christian females^ whom she pretended to instruct in the path of virtue^ and the detestation of adultery -and other prevailing vices, whilst she was an inmate in the house of wantonness and foul deceit. NotsowithFATiMA; her real origin was known. From childhood she attracted the attention, listened to the siu,hs, and received the vows of a thousand adventurers, mo- ney-lenders, and Jews, in the dark and dirty lanes of Galata. She had married^ indeed^ a young Greek, who acquainted with all the frcC'inaioris and enthusiasts of the -town, soon separated fron^. hrs volatile and loosened rib, and declined into the numerous class of incogs, who ramble about tombs, and church-yards, dwelling among the dead, because the living are not^or have ceased to be, congenial to their whims. The vile creeping thing that is hatched THE TRIAL OF FATIMA. 329 Extravagant Piide. in obscurity^ and crawls upon the dung- hill, may one day astonish our admiring eye, bytbeelcgance of its form, andthe va- riegated down of its butterfly-wings. Had Fatima, the giddy Fatima^ made use, in a lower sphere, of those talents she received from bountiful Nature, she would have shone the morning star of her sex and condition in life; but no! she aspired like a foolish moth to a greater lustre, to a transcendant brightness, and burnt her self at the very flame, which covetous- aess and pride made her imprudently seek for* Not content with the high and tnost re^ spectable acquaintance of the Emperor of Morocco, through the kindness of his am- bassador, nothing short of ruling over the lirst military man in the Ottoman Empire couldsatisfy her vanity. She sawthe Aga, and he was caught in the snares of her witticism and beauty. He surrounded her with all those comfoils and even superfluities which woman wants when 830 LONDON CHARACTEHJ^. Slie.Tules ia the Harem. she sacrifices at the expensive altar of lust;, fashi^ii^ and foliy; and his gene- rosity towards lier^ if not unexampled, could not be easily surpassed. Falima was the best loved, the most adored^ lady of the Aga^s private Harem ; the handkerchief, the wished-for token of predilection and partiality, was always, at her beck, ready to fly to her lap. She ruled there without control; Mutes and loquacious Kajas, Eunuchs, and nevr imported slaves, all were subservient to her wishes, and the Aca himself was an yielding dependent upon her nods, her looks, or the waving of her alabaster hand. But the fresh roses of Bagdad, and the blue cyclamen of Tadmor, have their time; they are blown by the morning breeze into elegance and gaudi- uess 5 at noon they begin to wither away ; and the evening star weeps over their departed loveliness. Fatima had lost the Aga's love, favours, and good will ; she had been dismissed from the abodes of THE TRIAL OF FATIiMA. 331 She swt irs to be revenged. bappinessj and her days were clouded w ilh anxiety and self-created sorrow. In the most horrid paroxysm of rage, blasting, in the storm of her passions, her past conduct with the Aga, and swearing bj.the tremendous name of the den^on of. eveji'Iasting revenge, she raised an Iiurricape against the deceived Com- maader K)f the faithful Army; and, al- though she was then drinking the per- nicious liquor forbidden by the Prophet, in public Kans and Cnravan-serat/s with an adventurer from Erin, she found ears listening to her tale, and disclosed the whole of her secrets with the Aga. The court before which she impeached lier lover was deep in the knowledge of xne'lnrman heart, as well as in the works of natgre. They knew that if the ^nortar juice of hemlock can poison the wisest of all men *j it may also melt a - * Socrates, well known to the Arabs, so long and so deeply ItavueU Ui Greek. SS2 LONDON CHARACTERS. She is much indulged. dangerous wen on the neck of a fool. Although her character was most ex- ceptionable, the J listened kindly to her depositions, suffered with longanimity her preposterous flights of witticism, her in- decents rebuffs^ and, even following the polite manners of European Courts, al- lowed a woman to sit down in their pre-* sence. Such was their unbiassed, un- prejudiced desire to reach the hand of truth ! 'Tn vain a Sandonasso, a Captain in ihe Greek garrison of the island of Lesbos, and other friends of the Aga, mistook their aim, and foiled themselves with their own hands: in vain the honest meaning and patriotic zeal of the accuser* of the Commander-in-Chief supported Fatiiha and Tailoi^isksi's evidence to touch the substance of real crimination; in vain she was listened to, when retail- ing her frolic ks with the Aga, repre- senting herself as pinning up, at the cur- THE TRIAL Of FATIMA. 333 The Aga not found guilty tains of her criminal bed, the list of her favourites to be presented to her paramour in that moment when nothing is to be refused ; and hailed the God of love* as dispensator of Ecclesiastical and Military favours ; the Aga was not found guilty of connivance; and the disappointed Fatima Clarkzs retired convicted of prostitution and adultery, of corrupt practices and secret pecula- tion, of ungrateful animosity and fruit- less revenge. Abandoned by those ephemerous insects who love to bask in the sunshine of pros- perity, Fatima had now no other visit-i ors but the ruined school-mistress and- the Faronrite, and she was conversing^ with them on the unexpected turn the: whole affair had taken, when, by order * See the Plate. S3i LONDON CHARACTERS. Explanation of the Frontispiece. of the Car// of the district, she was called out of her temporary lodgings to attend her own trial, which was to take place at the house of a respectable friend o£ the Sultana, properly empowered to pass a senteure of equity upon her, the Katon- hajcu aii*l the daughter o^ Chance, BoNOUiA, the Sultana's representative, was sealed at the farthest end of a mag-- iiificent-hailj liung around with crimson velvet, on which the clever hands of her daughters and friends had embroidered, in silver and gold, the principal anecdotes of Fatima's life— and most pointedly the particulars of her acquaintance with the Aga. Sbe reclined on abeautifuld sopha fetuddcd with silver crescent, on an azure ground of damask manufactory, and held in her hand the golden scepter of impartial enquiry : at her right were placed, on purple cushions, the prin- cipal ladies of several private Harems, and at her left, on a superbcouch of white taf- THE TRIAL OP FATIMA. SS» Speech of rhe President. fetas, twelve learned women were im-^ pannelled to the sacred number of the heavens the prophet had travelled through, in his journey to the celestial throne. At the bar, three small tabourets were assigned to Fatiaia, Tailoriska. and the Favourite. Many Turkish fashionable females were standing unveiled in the Gourt3 and after the cry of ^' Pravers/* according to custom, tlie presiding BoNouiA spoke to the foUowirg pur- pose : '^ Authorized by the custom of the laud and the wisest of the Mahommedan laws, we call you, Fatima Clarkis, before our tribunal to answer accusations which mav bebrought up against vou. Formerlv, in the higher court of the Divan, you ap- peared in the favourable light of a wit. ness, and seemed to be nothing more than the innocent medium through which the iuvegtigators of truth expected to arrive 336 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Speech continued. at the wished -for consolation of separat- ing innocence from guilt ; here^ you are endited;, and at the bar^ not an enraged and spiteful accuser^ but an humble ac- cused. There^ jou relied on (he for- bearance and politeness of a sex whose pride is to be the defence and protection of our own ; there you indulged^ with impunity, your natural bent for quibbling and quizzing, and your impudence was overlooked or forgiven because you were a woman; here you will have justice also, but no difference of sex^, no punc- tilio, no made-up decorum shall allow you indulgences you have no right to expect : " Mahomet forbid, however, that we should deal with you with unbecomino* rudeness or unmerited severity. Your soul stands naked before us, exposed io our sight on all sides, like the marble- obelisk of ^li in the palace of the Em- perors, and the angel of veracity holds THE TRIAL OF FATIMA. 331 The Accusation. up the book of past events to the eyes ot* the prophet, in order (o ascertain the me- rit of your depositions. — Youniajsit down." Having previously prostrated licrself three times on the costly carpet at the feet of Bonouja, and paid^ on the right and left^ her humble obeisance to the female counsellors^ and the jury-ladies, Fatima retired back^ and accordingly sat herself do»vn. "Tailoriska, her eyes modestly fixed on tlie ground^ stood behind lier^ and the Favourite, with a vacant look, remained at a greater distance. Terceva, the learned and eloquent daughter of the opulent Pacha o^ Aleppo, rose with all the elegance and comeli- ness of youth, accompanied by the seri- ous and imposing countenance of an ac- cuser ; she said : VOL. II. Q ^38 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Accusation continued. "" The blast of jour revenge has reached the palm-tree of Idumea ; and the pride of LeJjGuon was shaken by jour spiteful efforts. *^' You spoke ; justice held up her im- iTiOrfal sword, and the staff of power dropt s-pontaneously from the hand of the Aga. '' You have been the occasion of a great example given to the world j namelj^ that with the Divan there is no prejudicate distinction of persons ; no sheltering the criminal under the canopj of rojaltj or in the strong coders of wealth ; and that the lowest of the low has as great a right to the benefit of the law^ as llie son of the :\enerable Mupkti and the Aga Llmself. ''But we are not satisfied upon the mo- tives which prompted jou to disclose the whole of jour adulterous life, not only with the commander of the faithful^ but THE TRIAL OF FATIMA. S3d Continued. also with many others, who fell in the snares jou had laid for them. Your own life is a string- of iramoraiities, and the Sc - veral links that compose the shameful chain were tempered in thehissing waters of impertinence. Your trip at a delightful place in the environs of the Metropolis, and your feats in thesilver w^aves^ are now known to every one. You had deposited the Veil of decency on the shore, and the pliancy of your beautiful limbs, in the folding chrystal of the ocean, became an object of admiration to the impure specta- tors of your more impure conduct. Your fast-succeeding lovers placed you ou a level with our most determined polygami:: Bashaws; and your male Seraglio was the w hole world . You wantoned in your lust, and the folly of men bolstered up your emptiness. Natural talents were prosti- tuted to the basest purposes; and the per- fidious rose of your lips contained more poison than the narcotic flower of Ilj/os- CT/amus. q2 840 LONDON CHARACTERS. The Camphor-bag of Vlrs. Lee. *' It was not expected that the Aga should be exeoipt from the infltieiice of the soft and tender passion of love. The impartial *S67ir/?7fZ^<^^ZZYTiiOjthat eloquent and enlight- ei ed ffi( nibcr of the Divan^ although a destroyer of vice and corruption^ allowed the Aga some excuses for his folly, which he publicly confessed and execrated ; but you, Fatima, you had none. '^ Had the flattering Eblis*, with (he wings of love, incessantly fluttered before your enchanted eyes, and whispered in your listeningears tales of prostitutionand lust ; were then all the stores of camphor in the new and old Bazarsf of Stamboul so entirely exhausted, that you could not procure a small Z;air/}i/ of it to cool the "volcanic rage of your passion ? Western ladies, we are told, know better, and, by • The name used by tlie Mahometans for the Devil, t Bazar, market-place and warehouse. THE TRIAL OF FATIMA. 311 The Motion. t]iat means, the}' master themselves^ in or- der to become more powerful mistresses of others. *• I shall nottirethepatienceof thecourt by entering more at large in the field of your multifarious guilt : but Isouf San- clonasso^wdiAchmet Claverihi have been % justly chastised for their prevarications ; and^ as the Fligh Court has disdaic.*d to punish joUj we, for the example of pos- teritv and the edification of the faith- ful, propose a salutary expiation for your past offences. Therefore I move^ '' that Fatima Clarkis be sent to some place of retirement, to pass the rest of her days in useful occupations and the reading of the Koran.'* Salamina, supported the motion with great warmth ; she represented the Aga as a feeble-minded maii^ who had not philosophy enough to resist the intoxica- q3 ^42 LONDON CIIiRACTERS. Cross-examination. ting seduction of such a woman as Fati- ma. *^' You drank'* said she '*^the poison of your present misery in chrystal cups^more costly than gold ; and the retinue of the Sultan himself shrunk diminished be- fore the splendour and magnitude of your establishment." ^wZj3/ia interrogated her, andsaid/'Did it never strike you, m the vortex of your pleasures^ that you were digging an abyss of shame and repentance under the un. wary feet of your lover ?'* Faiima. It was not my business to fore- tell events^ and I never met sorrow half- way. Salamina, Did you not know that you were iiifringing the sacred authority of the chief of our religion, the infallible Mufti;, when you conlrived to promote THE TRIAL OF FATIMA. 343 Cross-examination. an jmaum * and a dervise to the reading of our principal Mosque ? Fatlma. But this was done without any particular wish of depriving any body of his privileges ; and, indeed^ the preferments and places in the Mosques are not always disposed of in favour of men more worthy than the Iman I pro- posed. A general cry of, '' chair ! chair !'* was heard from all parts of the hail — the President held up her fan^ and directed Fatima to retire. After a few observa- tions from several ladies at the right-side of the venerable Bonoitja, she was call- ed in, and having bowed as usual^, she resumed placidly her situation on the tabouret. * Immaun, inunnum, or iman, a priest who per- forms duties in the Mcsques. 344 LONDON CIIARACTEIIS. Animadversions. Belita begged leave to ask Faiima^ her motives for publishing '' The Me- moirs of her own Life." She urged the impropriety^ the indelicarj^ the danger of such a step, '' that enough already was known of her giddy and voluptuary life, and that she could not reveal any interesting anecdotes of her scandalous conduct without offending the ejcs and the ears of the most accommodating readers : that disclosures of flagitious scenes acted within the mysterious cur- tains of adultery and prostitution, can- not be edifying to the public at large, and that her unveiling the truth might injure the peace of mind of many decoy- ed victims of her irresistible fascinations: that no decent person will open the im- pure roll of her criminal extravagancies, and that the Amhassador of Morocco himself would be displeased at seeing his yellow-slippered master traduced to public ridicule : that the late Bashaw of Pliilip])o\}o\is^ was himself so much THE TRIAL OF FATIMA. 345 Continued. ashamed of publisliing any thing relating to Fatima, that he declined having his nanae piiblickly coupled with her*Sj and left to a celebrated Amanuensis * the care of making the copies, and: selling them to the world/* Several other ladies from the purple cushions, spoke to the same purpose, and silence being obtained by the President extending her golden sceptre towards the assembly, Romilia, the niece of one of the most profound professors of civil law, at Smyrna, rose in defence of the accused. All that can be said in favour of a giddy female, who, intoxicated with the idea of being the darling and dearest dear of the third great personage in the whole empire, forgets herself and every thing else, was eloquently urged upon * It has been rumoured since, that through motives similar to those alleged above, the whole of the copies had been bought up by parties concerned. 34:6 LONDON CHARACTERS. Verdict. the minds and hearts of the judicious ladies w ho composed the court ; all that deep learning'^ accompanied with the con- sciousness of doing what is rights could impart, was impressively displayed by the celebrated counsellor ; but in vain. The jury retired to the chamber of Decision, where unshaken Impartiality resides, and ere the Esma*, which the President and the rest of the company recited during the while, was ended, they re-appeared, and the eldest of them, in a clear and firm tone of voice, her hands elevated and clasped over her half- veiled forehead, returned a Verdict of, GUILTY ? Then Bcrovja rose, and with due so- lemnity pronounced the sentence of the Law : -^ * A prayer common to all tlie Mahometans, and recited in occasions of great danger- THE TRIAL OF FATIMA. 547 Sentence. '' You, Fatima Clarkis, you shall be conveyed beyond the Sea of Marmora to the Island o^ Naxos'^j thereto be immured in a Greek Nunnery, where no friars, no dervises, will be allowed to pour on your pallid lips the balm of comfort, and there to remain till perfect repentance has finished the work of your entire reforma- tion. The daughter of Chance, Tailor^ .iska, leaving behind the purses presented her by the votaries of compassion, shall follow you in }Our retirement; and the Favourite shall accompany you both. The camel, in the sands of Barca, shares the scanty water of the brook with his driver ; but does not refuse to follow his weary steps through the burning desart ; partakers of your good fortune, they shall bear a portion in your punishment !" * An Island of the ^Archipelago, where Ariadne, whom Theseus had abandoned, was consoled by the Cod of the Grapes, 348 LONDON CHARACTERS. r * ... , „, - _ . ' ... ' i ' ' ■ —I Conclusion. She said; Fatima bowed^ and the Court broke up. The Bostangis, and a posse of Janiza- ries, \Yere in waiting at the gates of the Hall, to put the sentence in immediate execution^ Avhen a Personage on horse- back^ followed by a magnificent retinue, stopped them unexpectedly. Who could it bcj but his excellency the Ambassador of Morocco^ whOj through the powerful influence of his imperial master, had ob- tained a pardon for the convicts? Accord- ingly, Fatima was permitted to retire to a small casino in the suburbs of Constan- tinople ; the forgetful Tailoriska obtained leave to enjoy the purses subscribed for her by the compassionate ; and the Fa- vourite, like the transient surge of the Bosphorus^ after a noisy, but short-lived appearance, returned to the obscure level of her original insigniiicancy» THE END. R. WiLKs, Printer, Chancery-Lane. v ^ ^-^ ■ ^ p- rf UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. I2i974 jiffj SEP 25 1 UE 2 WKS FROM NOV 1 9 1990 Form L9-50to-11,*50 (2554)444 THE LIBBARY UNWERBrn:' OF CALIFORNIA L 006 059 881 Mm.X. aS^** Ifis^*