UC-NRLF B 3 327 M^b H cA ■ SOME PASSAGES IX THE LIFE OF SIR FRIZZLE PUMPKIN THE PIC-NIC. AND OTHER TALES PHILADELPHIA: R. L. CAREY &. A. HART, CHESNUT STREET BALTIMORE: CAREY, HART & CO 1834 WM ^ C ^ CONTEXTS. Sir Frizzle Pumpkin, K. C. B., - - - - 13 Adventures of Crispin Crisp, - - -68 My First Duel. 101 The World as it is, 109 A Miss-directed Letter, 123 The Pic-Nic, .- 136 My Aunt's Bequest, 168 The Dissenting Minister, 182 The Widow, 198 15 SIR FRIZZLE PUMPKIN, K. C. B. My brethren of the sword have astonished me in nothing so much as in their complete mastery of the pen, and all the graces of composition. AVhere they picked up their style I cannot in the least make out. The mess-room is seldom redolent of the flowers of rhetoric, and the camp is, if possible, still less adapted to literary pursuits. It used formerly to be a reflec- tion against the army, that very few members of that houourable profession were much addicted to the habit evea of reading ; but what would Smollett, and other worthies, who have painted us in such disparaging colours, say to us at the present day, when there are few messes which cannot boast of a considerable num- ber of authors — historians, novelists, and memoir- writers, not to mention a confused and undistinguisha- ble multitude of politicians and poets? Every ofhcer now not only can read books, (which is perhaps the greater achievement of the two,) but is expected to write them also. At all events, if this literary ma- nia does not seize us while on active service, any in- terval of repose is certain to induce it with the utmost virulence. Immediately on retiring into civil life a wonderful change takes place even on the most anti- bookish of one's messmates. The epaulettes expand into reams of foolscap, the sword converts itself into a pen, and the jolly soldier of half a year before, is transmogrified into an author. The world, in conse- 2 14 quence, is inundated with military sketches ; — ladies' maids and sentimental milliners have wept over the soft recollections of romantic majors ; — mercers' ap- prentices have handled the yard with the swagger of a field-marshal, from the inspiring stories of bloody- minded ensigns ; and, in short, the slang of the camp has become as familiar as the words of ordinary con- versation. The navy also has started in the same glo- rious pursuit. The gun-room is the scene of many a heroic description. Captains and lieutenants club to celebrate the honour, virtue, cleanliness, and piety of the British tars. Yard-arms, tafTrils, tarpaulins, gaffs, and booms, hustle each other through every page ; and boys and virgins are elevated and astonished at the elegant phraseology of the cockpit. My wonder all this time has been, in the first place, how they can find stories to tell ; and, in the next place, how they can find words to tell them. For myself, I am as good as the best of them at an anecdote after dinner ; my words come as pat to the purpose as possible ; but the moment I take my pen into my hand — presto — all my power of story-telling is gone. Some word appears twice or thrice in the same sentence, my characters become confused, and the personages, whose wit is sure to create a laugh as I tell the story to my friends at table, are the stupidest fellows I ever met, when I write down their facetious responses in black and white. My opportunities of observation have been as good as those of any officer of my standing, and, as I said before, how the devil it is that they man- age to tell long stories of two or three volumes, while I can't muster a single page, I can by no means divine. But though I have hitherto failed in my at- tempts, I have not been altogether discouraged. Per- severance, they say, will conquer in the end ; and some of these days, I doubt not, I shall be able to manufacture a warlike tale as well as my neighbours. Besides the honour and reputation, there are other considerations which, it may easily be imagined, would make a successful novel by no means an un- 15 pleasant achievement to a captain on half-pay. Plutus, I am sorrv to confess, mingles in all ray dreams of fame. I envy Col. C. Thornton less for his inimita- ble stvle, and power of description, as the means of raising his reputation, than as the means of raising the wind. With such a pen as his, I should soon be in danger of becoming prouder of my purse than of mv glorv — my pocket should re-echo " sweet music of a silver sound. 1 ' where now the jingling of keys " make the void mirthful without change." But why should I indulge in such golden dreams ? My con- founded fingers grow stiff before I have finished a sentence, and sometimes I give way to despair, and fear I must rest contented as a story-teller, which is verv different indeed from a slory-ic riter. While engaged with these thoughts, for I assure you I have long been tormented with this literary and money-making ambition, I luckily received an invita- tion to pass a few days in the country with a distin- guished military friend. When I name General Sir Frizzle Pumpkin, K. C. B. T. K. ~~* 65 which immediately arose, we heard the cries of ;i Fire ! fire!" and then the wildest ejaculations of li Help ! help ! save us ! save us !" I darted with the speed of lightning to the door, but the whole passage was rilled with smoke ; I, however, as the only chance of escape, (after telling the General, who sat still, lost apparently in grief, that no time was to be lost.) sprang down the alreadv blazing staircase, and providentially arrived safe. ' The heat and agitation, however, had been too much for me, and I sank in a swoon upon the grass the moment I reached the lawn. When I recovered my senses, the fire had made the most alarming pro- gress. It burst in vivid wreaths out of almost all the windows, and the smoke, thickly eddying round the whole building, hid all the portions of it which were not actually in a blaze. The servants, and many coun- try people from the neighbouring village, gazeu at the progress of the devouring element in helpless conster- nation and dismay. Many of them were in tears, and I heard them uttering the most heart-rending lamenta- tions over the inevitable fate of their mistress. She had retired to her couch at an early hour, and the flames now totally enveloped the suite of apartments which she had occupied. I made several attempts to dash through the flames, and save the unfortunate lady — and also had no doubt the General would be overcome by his terrors, and be incapacitated from escape. In the midst of these vain and impotent endeavours, we saw some dark object moving along the corridor. It pro- ceeded quietly and sedately, whatever it was ; and the superstitious peasantry began to give all up for lost, when they saw what they considered the demon o. fire himself so deliberately taking his path amidst the flames. I, however, caught a single glimpse, which satisfied me it was the General ; and I now in truth believed that his fears had turned his brain, and that he threw himself in his delirium upon certain death. We traced him, however, as he passed each window, and at last saw him dive suddenly into the hottest of the fire, and, to our amazement, emerge in the ante- 6* 66 room of her ladyship's bed-chamber. We could even, above the roaring of the flames, hear a scream of de- light; and in another instant, again we traced the figure pursuing its fiery way with a burden in its arms, and a shout of hope and exultation among the spectators could no longer be restrained. The walls themselves began to crack and totter in many places, and several of the floors had already given way, yet, apparently undisraayed, the figure flitted across each successive window of the corridor, and by some means or other came down the blazing staircase uninjured. I saw, to my delight and amazement, it was indeed the Gene- ral, with the still beautiful and fascinating Lady Anna- bella closely clinging to his neck. I rushed to him in a moment, and offered him my assistance, but he was apparently as calm and collected as he had appeared that very day at the head of his own table. Her lady- ship, too, recovered herself very soon, and related her escape, with the fondest acknowledgments of her hus- band's matchless intrepidity. To ail that she said he made no answer whatsoever ; he seemed, indeed, scarcely to listen to what she was saying; but after she had been given over to the care of her maids, he took me aside, and told me, that in a state of the great- est agitation he walked along the corridor, in hopes of finding his way down the back stairs which com- municated with the garden. He found the door locked, and entered Lady Annabella's room, with the intention of leaping out of her window ; but she sprang upon him, and seized him round the neck — and then his ap- prehension rose to such a pitch that he lost all com- mand of himself, and how he found his way into the open air he was altogether unable to guess. After giving me this account, he slipt quietly away from the bustle, and left me musing on what a confoundedly useful sort of cowardice it was, which enabled the man always to be terrified at the right time ; and the sum of my musing was this, that it w r ill be a rrretty considerable particular long time before all my courage, and dashing, and intrepidity, will raise me to be a Ge- ■ « ■* * ■MM 67 neral of Division, with a splendid fortune — a baro- netcy — and two thousand a-year settled on my lineal representative for three generations. So much better is it, as Solomon or some other person has said in his proverbs, to be born with a silver spoon in one's mouth than a wooden ladle. 68 ADVENTURES OF CRISPIN CRISP. " The drowsy world is dreaming-, love." — Moobe. Crispin Crisp was the youngest son of a youngest son's youngest son ; we may therefore augur, without augury, that he rolled not in riches. Crispin Crisp, nevertheless, abounded in good-nature ; the kindly god of that attractive quality had smiled at his birth and breathed it in his heart. Whim shaped his fea- tures, and bestowed upon him a little obstinacy. Mirth strung every chord and fibre that sensibility had left untouched ; whilst Care, " mad to see a man sae hap- py," beset his path as he grew up — but without effect. " I won't be a lawyer," said Crispin Crisp to his father, when offered the choice of a profession, " be- cause I hate litigation ; and he reminds me of a carrion crow gloating over the carcass of a cat, his prey hav- ing already been worried to death by the canine tooth of poverty. I won't be a tradesman, because profes- sionals will look down upon me; and I won't be a chimney sweep, because he is neither trade nor pro- fession ; but I'll put my forty pounds per annum four percent, consol. annuities, into my pocket, and trudge away my life in the character of a walking gentleman." Crispin Crisp kept his word. (He was a man of his word — and, what is more, a man of few words — always avoiding a paragraph when he deemed a sen- tence sufficient, and dispensing with a sentence when a single word might answer his purpose.) He there- fore footed it away over many a foot of ground, until — ■** 69 the sum total was some thousand and odd miles. What a large amount may be formed from little items !" said Crispin Crisp, as "he reflected on this circumstance one evening while enjoying his pipe in a road-side ale- house on the coast of Devonshire, and known by the sign of the Cat and Kittens. Just then two strangers entered the place and seated themselves on a low settle near the fire. " A brace of guineas from each will make up a cool hundred," said one. " Yes, if they will but be tippy with the tip," re- plied his companion. "They are collectors of charity subscriptions," thought Crisp, taking his pipe from his mouth. "Aye," said the first speaker, "but itsha'n't be for want of knowing how. Let them whistle the sym- phony, and we'll show them how- to make canaries fly." " And let them into the secrets of pigeon training, into the bargain," returned the other. " They are bird fanciers, I fancy," said Crispin to himself. "-What, if we get K to join us," said the speaker, No. one. "Pooh!" said No. two; "he'll be useless — he's not worth a tanner" " ' A tanner will last some nine years,' according to Hamlet," muttered Crisp, practically refuting the position, by throwing his last sixpence to " mine host," in payment for his gin and water. " Yes," said No. one, " but remember his title ; that would carry us through many scrapes : however, if you object, we can honour all absent friends with peerages instead. Jem Banks shall be Chancellor of the Exchequer ; C d First Lord of the Treasury. and but see how that quiz in the corner is eyeing us. Do you know us, sir?" he added, turning quick upon our hero. " Excellently well ; you're fishmongers," said Cris- pin Crisp, drily. 70 " Eh ! — how know you that ? C d surely " " Xay, nay, don't disturb yourself; I merely guessed so by your appearing to be such extensive dealers in place," said Crispin. " Ha ! ha ! a well-timed joke, sir," said No. two ; " I see you are a bit of a wag, and shall be proud of your company over a bottle. The more the merrier, at a feast, they say." " Inclination says, Yes — prudence, No," replied Crisp. »* I have no cash, and shall not receive my half-yearly dividend until four days hence." The strangers, upon this, declared that they should feel hugeously offended if such an objection was again urged ; and Crisp, overcome by such generosity, hinted to himself that they were princes incog., and, without further ado. consented to crack a bottle and joke in their society. Crispin Crisp had in truth a kindly heart, though moulded in a somewhat comical form, and he ever appreciated kindness in others. Good soul ! he never suspected an evil motive to lurk beneath good- natured actions, and was therefore always open to de- ception ; but, so unostentatiously amiable", so humorous, so quiet, and so amusingly eccentric was he withal, that few took advantage of him. 'Twould have been like strangling the Robin red-breast, which unsuspect- ingly flies to your window on a winter's day. With a glass of claret before him, Crisp felt like the Indian chief when pronouncing wine to be the juice of women's tongues and lions' hearts. He chatted, he laughed, lie sang, and finally related all he knew of himself — which, however, was not much ; for he sel- dom troubled himself to notice the habits of strangers, and Crispin Crisp was less intimately acquainted with Crispin Crisp than with any man breathing ; and after dwelling at some length upon the nobility of his fa- mily, and Ins ancient pedigree, he in the fulness of his heart threw the contents of his card-case to his new friends, with an invitation to partake of his father's hospitality at Crisp Hall, and inspect the antiquated deeds, &c. from whence he had gleamed his heraldic 71 lore. The strangers laughed, but promised to comply ; and, after drawing one more cork, they wished each other bon repos, and separated for the night. Next day a third stranger made his appearance, and was greeted with significant looks by the two former ones. " Well, Harry, you see I am punctual," he said, " and now tell me " " Hush '." interrupted the person addressed, point- ing to Crispin, who sat enshrouded in the sombre twilight of the chimney-corner. " Let us withdraw awhile and talk in private." They withdrew accord- ingly, and after a confab of two hours, the new-comer made himself scarce, and " Harry," with his compa- nion — whom he familiarly called " Tom" — invited Crisp to a stroll about the country. " Have with ye," said Crispin, readily; "it's the finest amusement under heaven." Away, thereupon, they went, over hill and dale, through glen and glade, ditch, swamp, wood, and wild. Crispin Crisp seemed monarch of all, and walked on with a sturdy independence, which might have entitled him to hold" a distinguished place among the hardy in- habitants of a more rugged soil, whilst his companions were fairly beaten, and came panting and blowing like broken-winded horses after a hard day's exercise. M A prettv dance you've led us," cried Tom, as he sat down exhausted to dinner. "Pooh! 'twas but a country dance," said Crisp, performing an oblisato accompaniment to his words with knife' and fork upon a roast duck. Dinner ended, thev smoked, sang, drank and chatted as on the preceding evening, and finally retired to rest. Thus passed time away for three days ; Tom and Harry insisting upon paying everv expense. Crispin Crisp was charmed with so much goodness : in his simplicity he treated his entertainers with the confidence of a brother, and in a short time not a family secret remained untold : at length a letter was brought him from London, contain- ing a bank note for twenty pounds, (the half yearly moiety of his annuity,) "And now, my kind friends," 72 he said, " you shall revel at my expense ; and if the affair a'n't done to a merry tune, say that I don't know how to pay the piper." To this offer the strangers would by no means agree. It was not agreeable, they said, to hear of anything like a repayment of their civilities, especially as it would tend to straiten his circumstances. " Nonsense," said Crisp, " I tell you I have now cash enough to roll in ; the expense of a dinner and et ceteras will be a mere flea-bite, and I'm determined to have my own way." " And we, ours," said Harry, with a shrug. Crispin Crisp was firm; his friends obstinate, till at last the affair was compromised by an agreement to play cards after dinner, and he who lost most money to disburse the charges of it. Said, and agreed to ; down they sat — shuffled, cut, dealed, played, and Crispin Crisp rose a loser of his twenty pounds. " After all, then, you have to pay for the entertain- ment," said Harry. " You can't have more of a cat than his skin," said Crisp, "you've won my all, and I've scarcely the means of paying for another night's lodging." " Then you are no gentlemen !" returned Harry in a lofty tone. Our unsuspicious hero was at his wit's end to remove this imputation, when Tom kindly pro- posed accepting a bill at sight upon his father. Vexed, heated, and bewildered, Crisp acceded, upon which another bumper was offered him, and a proposal made to pursue the game to afford him an opportunity of re- gaining what he had lost. In the excitement of the moment, Crispin caught the bait; again he played, again drank, again lost, and again drew bills upon his father, until his head fairly reeled under the confluence of events, and, half insensible with mortification and intoxication, he hastened to bed — performing on the way as many gyrations as an Italian mountebank at a festival. Thus it is ever with man ; and thus, notwithstanding his vaunted superiority, is he frequently degraded to a •— 73 condition beneath that of the vilest of brutes. The lion in his quest for prey will not glance at carrion ; the dove suffers no temptation to lure him from the turtle's side, and the eagle in his sunward flight would scorn to permit a world of brilliance to withdraw his eye from the golden orb ; while man — mighty, intel- lectual, reptile man — diverges from his settled objects at every petty inducement, and forfeits all the dominion which reason gives him at the shrine of self-gratifica- tion. In this manner our hero erred : the plan of life he had for the last five years pursued was that of wan- dering in search of the unfortunate — binding up the wounds of those in sorrow — relieving distress wher- ever his slender means permitted such an exercise of charity, and administering the cordial of consolation to all. From the future performance of this benevolent part he was now precluded by a bottle of wine, fifty- two disfigured slips of pasteboard, and a few lively sal- lies from designing strangers. O Crispin Crisp ! Cris- pin Crisp ! you shall dearly pay for this ! But a truce to digression : be it ours to avoid the fault we have just been reprobating, and to pursue our narrative without allowing a single freak of fancy, or other (to us attrac- tive circumstance to wean us from it. When Crisp awoke, the entire exigency of his cir- cumstances flashed upon him with the first ray of light. That which was to have supported him for the next half year was already gone ; his father would be too much exasperated at having to pay his bills to receive him at home, and nothing but manual labour or beggary could preserve him from starvation. "I've done a pretty job for myself," said he, poking his legs out of bed, and thrusting aside his nightcap. He was soon dressed, and, with aching head and throbbing heart, descended to the parlour. His friends had gotten out of the way; '-Shift for yourself, and we^fl take care of your shirt," thought Crispin Crisp. At this moment a poor woman with a child on her back and one in each arm entered the room and soli- cited charity ; Crisp's honest heart melted : he had but 7 74 one shilling left, and that he was about to expend for a breakfast, yet he could not hear this woman's tale of distress without desiring to relieve her, and thinking that if he must starve, he might as well do so to-day as to-morrow, he gave her the solitary coin, saying, that he was her debtor, for, had he not squandered his money, he should have given her five times as much. " Good luck to your honour !" said the woman, " whether you've been frugal or free, this is more than many grand gentlefolks would give." " I don't deserve your good wishes. I have fool- ishly spent four hundred times the amount of that shilling, and ought to be punished for it," said Crisp. " Then may this be a peace-offering to your con- science, honey ; may the sum you've given to feed the hungry when you wanted a male yourself be returned a thousand-fold — and once more good luck to your honour !" said the grateful woman, as she hastened to buy her children some bread. She had scarcely de- parted when the sound of horses' hoofs was heard at the door, and, in another minute, a tall personage, dressed a la militairt, introduced himself into the parlour. " Length and strength," thought our hero, eyeing him. The officer summoned the landlord, and inquired if a gentleman named Crispin Crisp was in the house. " That he is, I'll swear," said Crisp, advancing briskly, when he immediately recognized in the stran- ger a relation (some fortieth cousin, or so) who had sojourned for a time at Crisp Hall, previous to starting on his pedestrian scheme. After a warm greeting on both sides, the officer, who was named Randolph, pro- ceeded to inform Crisp that he had some welcome news to impart. 44 Yes, from home, I'll warrant," said Crispin, with an anticipatory shrug. 44 No, from London," was the reply. 44 'Ware hawks '. The ill news cannot have reached there yet." 75 " III news ! Why, do you know what I was going to say ?" 11 No — do you ?" asked Crisp. " To be sure I do," said Randolph ; " I was about to tell you that Lord K has succeeded." " The devil he has ! And what's that to me ?" ex- claimed Crispin Crisp, thrusting his hands into his breeches pockets. '• Nothing more than that you are now authorized to kill, slay, and take prisoner as many of his Majesty's enemies as may suit your convenience," returned Randolph. " In the name of that chief of all misses, mis-chief, what are you driving at?" shouted Crispin. " Why, man, how obtuse you are," said Randolph : "I mean that K has procured your commission. That you are now Ensign Crisp of his Majesty's th regiment. That Boney has sent Ney, Soult, and others into Spain ; and that we, under Lord Welling- ton, must proceed forthwith to drive them out again !" " O ! And how long have you been accustomed to humming?" said Crisp, with a roguish leer. " Drumming, you mean, my dear fellow," rejoined Randolph. " Why I have now been a Captain, in the regiment in which you are to serve, nearly two years. It was owing to that circumstance that I became ac- quainted with K 's friendly application on your behalf, and on learning his success I procured leave of absence, in order to communicate the welcome tidings myself. K gave me your card, else (thanks to your rambling propensities) I should never have known where to find you." All this time Crispin Crisp had worn a look of du- bious astonishment difficult to describe, and long after Randolph had ceased speaking, he maintained a pro- found silence : at length he started from his seat, and, slapping his forehead, exclaimed'with elation, "I've hit it ! I'm asleep, and this is all a tantalizing dream. How confoundedly disappointed I shall be on waking." This idea never quitted our hero. He breakfasted, went to London, and embarked with his regiment ; — 76 still he fancied himself asleep. He reached Spain, joined the allied forces, and bore the British standard in front; — still he imagined himself to be asleep. He suffered privations and fatigue ; underwent, with cheer- fulness, long and harassing forced marches ; fought, conquered, bled, retreated, (as the reverses of war were alternately favourable or unfortunate,) danced, laughed, and made merry ; — still Crispin Crisp consi- dered all to be a dream. He had read of persons achieving adventures, attaining honours, and even dy- ing, yet, after all, waking and discovering the supposed events to be visionary. "I therefore," thought he, "may labour under the same delusion. Who is Lord K ? How came he to interest himself, unasked, for me ? Why am I here ? O ! it's a palpable trick of fancy all through." There was one thing, however, puzzled him. If this really was a vision, how came he so well enabled to calculate upon it, and to be so thoroughly conscious of the fact ? This query he sa- tisfactorily answered, on recollecting that he had read in a work, explaining the illusions of fancy, an anec- dote of one, who, for many years, nightly dreamed that he was pursued as a murderer, until, by a strong exer- cise of mind, he succeeded in convincing himself that it was a dream, and so dispelled the enthralling vision. " Now," thought Crisp, " this incident must have made a deeper impression on me than I suspected, and bears out the author's assertion, that things long for- gotten will often recur to memory under the influence of sleep. / am dreaming ; but the memory of the fancy-formed murderer's expedient to elude his trou- bled ideas is so forcible, as to convince me that it is a dream under which I labour. Well, I suppose some- thing will shortly happen to wake me all of a sudden." Notwithstanding these reflections, Crisp endeavoured to make himself as happy and agreeable as possible. There is, in almost "every regiment, some one, who, (though, perhaps, most ignorant of military duties, and most remiss in their performance,) from his unvarying good-humour and quiet wit is the darling of his brother 77 officers — yet, not infrequently, their butt. Such was Crispin Crisp. He scarcely knew the manual exercise, still he was the delight, and conciliated the good-will of every body. He would fight a battle, and, imme- diately afterwards, lighten its attendant fatigues by the relation of some laughable story. He made the heart buoyant, when its frame was heavy in a march ; and he planned expedients for converting a Spanish hovel into comfortable quarters. Was the mess-table ill spread — it was Crispin Crisp who foraged to supply the de- ficiency. Was a suffering man to be relieved — it was Crispin Crisp undertook the charitable task. Was the sudden attack of an advance guard contemplated — Crispin Crisp sprang forward and undertook to lead the picquets on to it. In short, it was " Crispin here — Crisp there — Crispin Crisp everywhere." One circumstance had supereminently entitled Crisp to the good-will of his brother officers. The colonel of his regiment was one of those little fubsy, paunchy fellows, we so frequently find raised through interest rather than merit to their exalted stations, and looked not unlike an unwieldy hogshead, supported by a couple of spindles ; added to this, he was arrogant, imperious, conceited and brutal — so that not a man in the corps bore any marvellous affection for him. When our hero first entered the barracks, on reaching London, he was so struck with his commander's appearance, that he could not forbear saying to Randolph aloud, " In the name of all that's fat and funny, who is that odd little body at the head of the table ?" Flash pan — for so we will designate the worthy of- ficer, for fear of an action for libel, should we disclose his real name — hearing this question, said, with a look of great would-be-fierceness, " Silence, sir; and learn to talk more respectfully in the presence of your supe- rior officer. It is your colonel who speaks." Now Crispin Crisp thought that this being only a dream, it was rather hard for so fine a looking fellow as himself to be commanded by the object before him ; and, conceiving it quite possible to reverse the affair, 7* 78 he put on a burlesque imitation of Flashpan's look — strutted up to him — and, gazing with ineffable contempt on his upturned, wrathful phiz, exelaimed, " I'm a bigger man than you, colonel." The outrageous laugh- ter that burst forth from all sides at this unprecedented salutation, drove the colonel frantic, and, from that moment, he never missed an opportunity of annoying and affronting the cause of it, whilst the officers rejoiced at their commander's mortification, and idol- ized the man whose unsophisticated humour (as they imagined) had enabled him to effect it. Meanwhile, our ensign dreamed on through a course of three years, without ever awaking, and at length grew tired of the deception which Somnus had put upon him. " This seems a dreary and a long night. Why the nap of the seven sleepers was nothing to it !" he said, one day whilst sitting in his tent. "I begin to suspect that I must be awake. But, if so, what brings me here ? Aye, that's a poser — there's the rub." As he spoke he carelessly unclosed a book which had been lent him, and began to peruse its pages. It was a volume of the Spectator, and the number on which his eye rested was the one containing the well-known fable of a Persian prince dipping his head into a basin of water, and immediately withdrawing it, yet, during that short period of time, he had by the power of ma- gic fancied himself a wanderer for seven years — a hus- band — a father — and finally a suicide. " By jingo !" quoth Crispin Crisp, " the murder's out, and this ex- plains all ; I am dreaming, then, sure enough ; and deceitful fancy is stretching moments into days, minutes into months, and hours into years — I wonder when I shall awake !" Full of these reflections he quitted his tent to stroll awhile over the enchanting plains of An- dalusia, on the frontiers of which far-famed province the brigade was encamped, awaiting reinforcements to assist in attacking a small fortified town in the moun- tains, which they were now prevented from attempting by a large body of French troops that held a position in front to defend it. He had scarcely proceeded half Mi 79 a mile before he met a young Spaniard, attired in the habit of the middling classes, who civilly requested his way to the tent of Ensign Crisp, of the th. " What want you there ! Its occupant stands before you," said Crispin. " Then my walk will be all the shorter, senhor," said the lad. " My master desires me to say that he gives no credit to soldiers ; he has therefore sent his bill for the goods you had of him, and requests pay- ment in ready cash — as it is out of all course to take a note of exchange from an alien — and that too upon a person in England." As he spoke, the young man presented our hero with a paper, containing several items for jewellery, &c. which it stated he had bought. " Now this is curious," thought Crisp, " and fur- nishes a fine exemplification of the inconsistency of dreams. Notwithstanding, that I am away from Eng- land, and a soldier to boot ; the bills I gave to Tom and Harry (curse 'em) are preying upon my memory, and so amalgamate themselves with present circum- stances, as to become conglomerated into one mass of events. However, I may as well be honest in my sleep, and pay — while the short-lived power lasts to do so — as I don't question but that I've had the goods, and forgotten all that part of ray dream." He accord- ingly pencilled an order upon the quarter-master to discharge the full amount of the bearer's demands, and then pursued his walk. Evening was now drawing on, and the surrounding scenery received a tint of mellowed richness which nothing out of heaven but a setting sun in Spain can impart. The castellated mansion, the luxuriant vine, and the blue, far-off mountains, were all radiant with purple and gold. The sky seemed one ocean of living fire, and reflected its glorious hues in every shade of glowing beauty upon the fertile Andalusian plains be- neath it, as now they swelled into gentle eminences, and then became buried in some peaceful glade. All around, too, slumbered in such profound repose, that had it not been for the occasional sound of some mule- 80 teer singing in the distance, the dull tolling of a con- vent bell, or the deep "All's well" of the drowsy cen- tinel, our hero might have fancied himself in the peace- ful wilds of paradise ; and, struck by the loveliness of the view, he cried aloud with rapture — " O ! that I might never wake from a spell like this to cold reality!" On, on he wandered ; darkness rapidly approached, and the stars of night burned brightly through her sable mantle. Presently the skies opened and a flood of silver light touched nature with a new brilliance, and disclosed a broad refulgent moon, sailing to her west- ern home in a sea of liquid pearl ; Crisp was lost in an ecstacy of amazement, and without heeding the fleeting time, still went onward till he found himself beneath the terrace of a small chateau, which stood embowered amid a cluster of orange-trees that scented every gale with their fragrance. The extreme sim- plicity and elegance of the place struck our wanderer with fresh delight, and whilst he stood wrapt in admi- ration, a voice — clear and soft as distant music on a summer breeze — pronounced his name from above. "I am in fairy land, and this its presiding spirit," thought Crispin Crisp. " Hist ! senhor — senhor Crisp !" repeated the voice, in still more harmonious tones. " Nightingales and elves !" said Crispin Crisp, look- ing about him. " Speak, senhor, are you there ?" inquired another voice. " Yes, I am here — what do you want ?" said our hero, lost in surprise at this new event. " Then we will descend immediately. Hold the ladder firm," rejoined the second voice, and at the same instant a rope ladder was thrown down to Crisp, who instinctively caught hold of it, whereupon a form, which embodied all his ideas of sylphs and nymphs, descended. " Come, Isabella, quick, or we shall be discovered !" she exclaimed on reaching the ground. The summons was obeyed by a girl, who appeared to be her waiting woman, and, in another minute, Crisp ■■ 81 found himself between two females, the principal of whom excelled in beauty all he had ever beheld. Her figure might have been termed voluptuous, but for the retiring and maidenly beauty which added a finish to its grace. Her face' might "have been thought too bold and dignified, but for the feminine and delicious languor which overspread it; whilst her eye — her large black eye — might have been pronounced by many to be too eagle-like in its glances, but for the entreating, winning expression, which enticed the soul to admi- ration and love. " O that eye ! that eye !" mentally- exclaimed Crispin Crisp, as he stood winking and blinking with expectation of what was to occur next. " I am thinking," said Isabella, the maid, " that it is time to move onward." " I perfectly agree with you — but whither ?" said Crisp, taking the fair senhora's arm. "Santa Maria! what voice do I hear?" cried the lady ; then looking up, she exclaimed with a faint scream — M Angels protect me ! this is some stranger." " Then let us be strangers no longer. Here is my card— if ever you walk as far as England, drop in at Crisp Hall in your way." H What mystery is here?" said Isabella ; " this is the verv counterpart of the card which Senhor Crisp presented my mistress, when first she met him. Is Crispin Crisp a cameleonf" M We must allow for the usual anomalies of dreams," said Crisp to himself; and again an embarrassed pause took place, which was at length broken by the senhora. " I have been deceived," she said, whilst a tear gem- med either eye, " cruelly deceived, yet I tremble at the thoughts of a^ain entering that house." " So do I," said our hero, fearing to lose so much beauty. " Cannot I conduct you to a place of refuge? I don't know who you take me for, but I am a British soldier, lady ; and will pledge my sacred honour for your safety." 11 And I am a Spanish girl full of romance and con- fidence. There is a convent three leagues across the 82 mountains, where I could find a sure asylum. Lend me your protection thither, and may you never sue for woman's heart in vain." " You shall have it against a host of assailants," cried Crisp. " Come, lean on my arm ; we'll procure horses at the camp, and ere Diana reaches the third quarter of the heavens, her rival in loveliness shall be safe." The senhora and her maid at once committed them- selves to his care, and, keeping as much as possible in the shade, he conducted them to the outposts. On their way there the lovely fugitive, in answer to Crisp's inquiries, disclosed the particulars relating to her pre- sent situation. Her name was Isidora de Murilla : her father was a haughty grandee, whose only care through life was the aggrandizement of himself and family ; her mother had secretly embraced the Protestant religion, and instilled its mild precepts into Isidora's mind. On being bereaved of this parent, it was intimated to Isi- dora that she was expected to take the veil ; as two of her brothers were about to enter the army in order that the eldest son (by being left in sole possession of all the estates) might aspire to the hand of one of the wealthiest heiresses in Madrid, and so raise the name of Murilla to the pinnacle of grandeur. " That was dirty behaviour towards the other chil- dren," said Crispin ; " but I have somewhere read that the ladder of ambition must be fixed in mire to prevent its slipping — so that accounts for it." " The thoughts of becoming a nun," resumed Isi- dora, " nearly distracted me ; but, alas ! my father would hear of no opposition to his views, and, whilsi he made the preliminary preparations necessary, he sent me for safety under the care of my younger bro- thers to yonder villa. These coercive measures made me still more resolute in my resistance, and I fortified myself to embrace the first opportunity of escape which offered ; nor was I destined to wait long. My brothers, to relieve the tedium of a country life, frequently by turns visited the gaming-houses of a neighbouring dis- — 83 trict, where they became acquainted with a young Englishman bearing your name, and to whom they became so attached that they frequently invited him home. Chance, spite of the seclusion in which I was in common with all my countrywomen kept, brought me in contact with this person ; he saw I was unhappy, and, with the thoughtless confidence of an almost bro- ken-hearted girl, I so far lost my sense of decorum aa to suffer him to draw from me the secret of my griefs, and to consent to place myself under his protection till I could reach a place of safety, as it would have been impossible for me to have done so without assis- tance. Your arrival in his stead remains inexplicable, and, if my former conduct was open to the charge of rashness,' I may now, with justice, be charged with absolute imprudence in putting myself in the power of a stranger, after having been once deceived. But do not let your censure be added to the world's ; indeed — indeed I am pained at the bold part I am acting, and would, if possible, shrink from it. Heaven knows that all I wish is to enter myself as a boarder, (for a nun I can- not be without insnltingmy religion,) beneath the con- vent walls, where I can bid defiance to parental oppres- sion, and where my mother's and my own jewels, which I have brought with me. will furnish ample means of support." There was an avouch of modest dignity and of maidenly pride, blended with a sense of humiliation, in Isidora's look and manner while she spoke, that, had her words been gospel truths, Crisp could not more implicitly have relied upon them. M I sincerely be- lieve you, madam," he said, " and I pray you to banish all doubts of my honour. Consider yourself a pearl of price, and me a jeweller appointed to bear you to some monarch's foot. You may then form an idea of the care I will take of you." They had now reached the camp, and Crisp left the ladies in ambush whilst he procured horses, which he did with but little difficulty. It chanced that on the present evening it was his turn to mount guard, but, 84 waiving all other duties in favour of that of defending helpless woman, he quitted the camp heedless of con- sequences. The night was charming ; it was just such a one as those with which our own little boarding-school beau- lies love to invest their delicious dreams of elopements : — a clear sky — a full moon — a host of stars — an angry father behind — and a refuge before ! O, it was su- perbly romantic, and our party spurred on towards the mountains with an animation that promised to support them through every danger. The plains were soon cleared, and the mountains gained ; here the wild thyme, the mountain olive, and the lowly briar, made the warm summer air more endurable, by the fragrance which it stole from them ; but, as Crisp and his charges ascended higher and higher, the breeze became purer and cooler until it played freely and freshly upon their brows from the lofty heights, and, owing to the novelty of being scentless, was as delightfully refreshing to our travellers as a cup of cold spring water often proves to the habitual wine-bibber. During his translocation from vale to mount, Crisp experienced so much bliss in Isidora's society, that he imagined himself on the point of waking. " I shall tumble down one of those ravines presently," he said, half aloud, " and the fall- ing sensation will rouse me. I've often started from sleep in that manner." But his time had not yet ar- rived, and he sprang from slope to slope without pro- ducing the expected catastrophe. Well, at last they reached the convent of St. Ursuline, and the. production of a broad piece of gold won a speedy admittance. The madre was a venerable and pious old lady, and soon suffered herseF to be persuaded to grant Isadora shelter, especially upon hearing that she was a sufferer under persecution. " And now, noble sir," said the damsel, " permit a helpless girl to thank you for your generosity. We shall in all probability not meet again, yet in my daily prayers I shall not forget to supplicate Heaven for your happiness." 85 There was a tear in the eye of Crisp, there was a wanness on his cheek, there was a flush on his brow, and a smile of rapture on his lip, as Isidora spoke ; but he checked the utterance of his feeling's, for he found it impossible to clothe them in adequate language ; and after faltering some unintelligible sounds, he took her small plump hand in his, and egad, he kissed it! When Sol at setting bestows his parting salute on Terra, the goddess does not receive it more silently, or with a deeper blush, than did the Spanish maiden that of Crisp's. She looked down, she looked up, she looked to the right, and she looked to the left ; but per- versely prevented her glance from meeting his. " How provoking !" thought Crisp. The prolonged silence now became irksome ; he began to hope she meditated some other place of retreat, and, in a voice scarcely audible, ventured to suggest a flight to England, " where," added he, "all the fathers in Europe dare not harm you." Those black eyes of Isidora's now bent full upon our hero's face ; they had lost their fire to be sure, but the cheek seemed to have gained it, and there was a meaning in their glance, so full of youthful enthusiasm and confidence, that Crisp could have worshipped her as she said, " To me, senhor, this is a homeless world, and all corners of it are alike. Should I have your protection thither ?" That glance, — those words did Crispin Crisp's business, and, fearful of committing some extravagance if he longer stayed, he once more kissed the hand of Isidora, and exclaimed, " To-morrow you shall know all ; I will be with you, though fire and blood beset my path !" So saying, he hastily quitted the place, and remounting his steed, turned towards the " tented fields." Crisp was now a new man ; he felt that there was a being, and a beautiful one too, who looked up to him for protection ; and, as recent events hovered on the pinions of r3trospection, light-winged hope flew around, and whispered promises of felicity which he scarcely dared to entertain. Suddenly he paused, 8 86 and said aloud with a sigh, "how interesting all this would be in reality — 'tis a thousand pities it's a dream ! And is that black-eyed seraph visionary too ? But what induces me to think of her ? Surely I'm not in love ! 'Gad, I begin to suspect myself ; it strikes me that I'm struck /" At this moment a violent blow upon the temple felled him to the earth, and interrupted his reverie. "Gentlemen, I protest against such conduct," cried Crisp, raising his head to view his assailants ; but no one was near — a large branch of a chestnut-tree, how- ever, o'ercanopied the path, and seemed to confess it- self the cause of his accident. He shook his head dubiously. " I suppose I am on the floor now," remarked he, drawing in his legs like a Mahometan ; " I must have stricken my head against the bed-post, and tumbled out of bed. Well, I wonder the blow did not wake me." His downfall rendered our hero more circum- spect, and he peered cautiously round to see if he was to dream that hidden foes were near. Hidden foes were indeed near, for lo ! above a sapling pine, at some little distance, he saw the steel-cased head of a cuiras- sier grinning at him " I object to that fellow's existence !" said Crispin Crisp, leaping upon his horse. The Frenchman, with an oath and a smile, cried, " Stand !" and our hero obeyed ; but it was only to draw a pistol, and aim at his enemy's head. Monsieur did the like. For a mo- ment there was an ugly pause. " Surrender!" roared the cuirassier. "I'll see you d d first '.".shouted Crispin. " Then die !" said the Frenchman, firing. The ball whistled harmlessly by. " That was a miss," said our hero, returning the compliment, and with so sure an aim that his ball pierced the soldier's forehead. He fell forwards dead, and was borne from the place by his affrighted steed in full gallop. " Poor devil!" said Crispin Crisp. 87 The report of fire-arms alarmed half a dozen French videttes, who were carousing round a fire behind a neighbouring thicket, and who now rose one and all to ascertain what was going forward. Crisp saw their approach, but disdained to fly ; — he possessed a chi- valrous courage, which had in a manner hitherto lain dormant, but which late circumstances now called forth. The light of love was in his heart, and served to dis- play its nobler qualities in the same manner as a bright moon discloses beauties in a landscape, that till her ri- sing had been obscured by darkness. On came the men, and on dashed Crispin Crisp. They met, and, in two words, they fought. Crisp's horse was killed under him, still he laid about him like a fox in a farm- yard, and despatched several foes, without once ask- ing their consent to his proceedings, until only one was left to cope with him. After some sharp sword work, the Frenchman's steel was broken, and the two combatants closed, the one to gain, and the other to keep, possession of the remaining weapon. In the struggle, Crispin fell on his back, with the soldier up- on him. " As sure as I'm born, I've a shocking night- mare this evening," said he, groaning under his ad- versary's weight. " Yield !" said the opponent, still striving for our hero's sword. " What ! with the allied forces at my heels ? The night-mare shall kill me first," said the dreamer, think- ing to terrify the fellow by an assertion which had no source but in his own brain. " Mon Dieu ! what do I hear ?" faltered one of the men who had fallen beneath our adventurer's arm, and now laid gasping in the agonies of death. "The army so near ! then our division is lost if it approaches ano- ther foot. Ah, mon Dieu ! would I could crawl to our marechal with the news. Fly, Francois, fly, and tell Ney to retreat, or all is lost. I am weak, yet I have still strength to hold this Englishman's throat while you release yourself. Fly, I say ; tell the Corporal* * The by-name which Napoleon received from his soldiery. 88 that I left home, and mother, and wife, and child, to fight his battles, and that my last act was to choke one of his enemies. Vive l'Empereur ! Vive Napoleon !" With these words the dying man stretched out his hand, and, collecting every remaining particle of strength, seized Crisp's throat. The action exhausted him ; he feebly repeated his emperor's name, and then was silent. The hand still maintained a tight clutch, but it had slipped from its hold, and was motionless ; he was dead. The poor fellow's loyalty went to the heart of our hero ; he was deeply affected, and volun- tarily yielding his sword to Francois, he hit him as clean a left-handed facer as ever Cribb or Molineaux inflicted in the prize ring. " To the right about, and be d — d !" he exclaimed^; "I hav'n't the heart to take your life away now." The Frenchman gladly took him at his word, and showing a light pair of heels made the best of his way to his regiment, where he spread the report that the British troops were in advance. " A tolerably sharp night's work this," said Grisp, picking up a sword to replace his own, " by Jove I have done more in one evening than many a hero of romance does in three volumes !" He was now about to depart, when, as he stepped over the body of the man who had attempted to hold him, he stooped to search his pockets — not for plunder, but for something to keep as a memorial of his loyalty. There was no- thing but a bead purse, containing a few pieces of coin ; these he emptied into the dead man's bosom, saving one of the smallest value, which with the purse he carried off with him. After trudging about a mile onward he suddenly heard a cock crow, and looking up he perceived one perched on the roof of a low sort of stable, adjoining a rather neatly built cottage. " Ha, my fine fellow !" said he, " I must have you for my own especial picking. The mess-table has been but badly covered for some days past, and requires the addition of such an embellishment." The cock flapped his wings and appeared to chuckle. "What, do you defy me, eh? That seals your 89 doom ; and if I don't carry it into execution, call me noodle, and doodle too, if you like," said Crisp. " Cock-a-doodle-doo !" quoth chanticleer. " Now, that's making game of me — it is but fair, then, that I should in return make game of you," re- turned our hero, seizing the bird, and expeditiously wringing its neck, he put it into his haversack, and quietly pursued his way to the camp without further adventure. A little before this time, the troops under Welling- ton had gained a very signal victory, and the regiment commanded by Colonel Flashpan were this evening celebrating it with carousals. Crisp reached his en- campment a little before day-break, and was just in time to witness the finale to the sports, and to be in- formed of the cause. " Aye, aye ; stirring times these," said he, poking the fire, and seating himself beside it, to warm his limbs, which the morning air had chilled. " Yes," said the quartermaster (who was present) with a knowing wink and drunken leer ; " and as none can tell what may happen next, suppose you give me a regular receipt for the sums I paid to your order last night." Crisp was nothing loth ; but, on looking over the account, he perceived that a great number of bills had been discharged in addition to the one which had been presented to him over night. " I'll not put up with this," he exclaimed ; " the labour will be quite Sisyphusian if every guinea I get is to go in this man- ner. However, I'll not give a receipt for one farthing." " Nonsense, you are dreaming !" said the paymaster. " I know that ! Yet, what though I am dreaming, I'm as wide awake to imposition as you are." This produced an angry rejoinder; words ran high in consequence, and a scene ensued which baffles de- scription. The officers, all partly intoxicated, rose en masse to promote a row, and oaths, laughter, cries, and toasts, sounded and resounded from every quarter, whilst fresh bumpers of wine increased the excitement, and the jingling of smashed glasses tolled a requiem to 8* 90 the departed liquor. When the confusion was at its zenith, a message was brought to Crisp, informing him that the commandant had been for some time awaiting his guard report, and that his immediate attendance was desired. Now our adventurer had frequently been absent on former occasions, and had escaped detection by returning the usual form of " nothing extraordi- nary since guard mounted,'" he consequently plumed himself with the hopes of being similarly successful on the present one, and accordingly drew out his re- port and went with it to the commandant. It will be recollected that that worthy personage was not very fond of our hero, and had long been on the watch to vent his spleen against him. The time had now ar- rived. " So, sir," said he, after reading the paper, " this is the report of your last night's watch." "It is, colonel," said Crisp. " Hear you this ?" said Flashpan to the officers who were standing by. Then addressing Crisp, he added, " How dare you, sir, have the effrontery to make such an assertion ? ' Nothing extraordinary !' Why, it is notorious to the whole corps that a horse was caught this morning, dragging after him a cuirassier, with his brains blown out, and quite dead." " Well, colonel, there was nothing extraordinary in that ! Had the man been living under such circum- stances, I should have reported upon the singularity of the case," said Crisp, deliberately. This unexpected reply nearly puzzled ihe comman- dant ; he, however, hinted his suspicions that Crisp had been in communication with the enemy, as it had recently transpired that he had departed with three horses,' and been absent since nightfall. " They tell me I have been an absent fellow all my life," said Crisp. " It's all very fine talking," said Flashpan, "but you shall account for last night's absence at all events, and . But what do I see at your side ? A sword of French workmanship, as I live ! Lethim be searched," 91 he added, furiously. The order was obeyed, and from Crisp's pocket was drawn a bead purse, containing a demi-sous. " Is that all ?" asked Flashpan ; " rip the purse up ; there may be something concealed in it." This com- mand was promptly executed, and underneath the li- ning was found a Napoleon, side by side with a gold medal, which the poor soldier (the original possessor of the purse) had treasured in memory of his emperor. " If ever there was a case of high treason, this is one," exclaimed the colonel. " C4entlemen, I call up- on you all to bear evidence to these facts, which shall most assuredly be made the subject of a court-martial when we reach England." Crispin Crisp stood unmoved — nay, he even smiled as he said, half aloud, " The farce is reaching its close now ; the cock will presently crow, and I shall awake to the truths of reality." " What are you muttering, sir ? Have you the in- solence to crow over us ?" " Cock-a-doodle-doo I" sounded shrilly through the place. " Huzza! huzza!" shouted Crispin, capering about; " I thought so — I said so — I knew it would come to this, and Eh! why, zounds!" (and he rubbed his eyes,) " I am still here, and morning can- not have yet dawned !" All this was as fuel to the fire of Flashpan's wrath, which increased tenfold when Crisp, after a moment's recollection, threw his haversack upon the table, and out stalked the bird which he had that morning cap- tured, which, owing to his hurry and awkwardness, he had failed in effectually depriving of life. " This is a premeditated insult," cried the colonel; "but tremble for the consequences. There is a vessel about to depart in a few days for England, in which you shall be sent over in close custody, and it shall not be my fault if you be not shot when you arrive there." Flash- pan then rose, and bowing round him, added, " And now, gentlemen, I will dissolve this meeting." " Yes, and if all present had received a sentenee 92 like mine, it would be dissolved in tears," said Crisp, beginning to feel a little frightened. He was then ta- ken to the guard-room, and there left a prisoner. All this set him reflecting ' like mad.' " 'Slife !" said he, " this is beyond a joke ; it's too like earnest for me. 'Tishigh time to wake, and I've a good mind to shoot myself in order to do so." He, however, considered that he might possibly, by such an act, send himself into an eternal slumber, when his intention was only to rouse himself from a fancied one. Whilst turning over these thoughts, his relative, Captain Randolph, entered the room, but Crisp was buried in such pro- found abstraction that he did not hear him. " Well, ensign ; what cheer ?" said he, advancing. " « Who would fardels bear, When a man might his own quietus make With a bare bodkin ?' " muttered Crispin without heeding him. " Why, Crisp," said he slappingourhero's shoulder to engage his attention ; "are you asleep?" " Fast as a church. Do wake me," said Crisp, turning sharply round. " Mirthful to the last, I perceive," returned Ran- dolph. " Zounds ! why did you absent yourself? We are to have a touch at the enemy in yonder town to- day, and your jokes would have sent us laughing to the duty." " Indeed ! I thought that Ney's division kept us at bay." " So it did ; but, for some unknown cause, he has suddenly retreated, and left the town open to our as- saults. General got scent of the affair this morning, and has just joined us, in order to take the place by storm at once." " Then let me see him this instant," exclaimed Crisp ; " It was I who caused Ney to retreat. I killed six of his men last night," and sent the seventh flying back with intelligence that the whole of our forces were at hand — a ruse, by the bye, to save my own life, 93 ihough the recent victory must have favoured it. I had forgotten all this ; my innocence will now be ma- nifest, and I shall go jesting onward to battle as usual." Randolph was delighted to hear this, and, on his own responsibility, carried Crisp to the general, to whom he related the whole of his adventures of the preceding night. " This is strange, but it is possible," observed the general, fixing his falcon eye upon Crispin ; " and Colonel Fiashpan's suspicions may be incorrect. But, to the escalade ! Who'll lead the forlorn hope ?" he added, with a sudden transition of manner, still, how- ever, keeping his eye on Crisp. " I'm your man, general," exclaimed Crispin, with alacrity. " On, then, sir, and wipe out the stigma you have incurred," said the general. Other volunteers now pressed forward ; the devoted band was speedily formed, and in a few hours the troops were before the town. After the usual summons to surrender, and a prompt refusal to do so, General took Crisp's hand, and bid him farewell. " You have nobly given yourself to your country," he said ; " should you fall, she will gratefully cherish your me- mory. And now to the attack ; should you cross the wall alive, pick me off those men on the ramparts to the left — they occupy too favourable a position for us." " Pick /" said Crisp, cheerfully ; " why general, you talk of the flower of the enemy as if they were flowers of the field, but I'll do my best." So saving, he led his men to the walls. The annals of our tremendous wars with other countries must have made every reader familiar with the horrors of a storm. Let him fancy all these horrors combined, and he will be able to form an idea of what Crispin had to en- counter. Thrice was the ladder thrown down which thrice he attempted to mount; balls whistled thick and three-fold about his ears, and bjood spouted in streams upon him. Still he urged on his men, still he conti* 94 nued to ascend, until he set his foot on the summit of the wall, where his further progress was opposed by a man, whose countenance was woefully disfigured by a rainbow of bruises. It was Francois. " My old friend, take that !" shouted Crisp, re- peating the dose he had not long back administered. Francois fell, and our hero cut down all who attempted to supply his place till the besiegers had made a secure lodgment on the walls ; he then leaped boldly into the town, and after fighting through several streets gained the fortress, at which instant he received a bayonet wound in his side. Crispin Crisp upon this stood, with warfare raging round him, as immovable as a pump in a shower. *• O that immortal writer on the illusions of dreams !" he exclaimed ; "how well he must have studied his subject when he asserted that things taking place near us while asleep, however tri- fling, instantaneously form so mysterious a connection with what we arc dreaming about, that we consider it as a piece with the rest of the vision. No doubt, now, some monstrous flea is biting me rather sharply, and my disturbed imagination magnifies the event into a wound ; it certainly is very comical." Whilst thus he spoke, his eyes, never idle, wandered to the distant hills beyond the town, round which he beheld deploy- ing a considerable number of the enemy's troops, who had escaped from the other side t>f the town ; he in- stantly mounted a gun to discover their destination, and found it to be the convent of St. Ursuline, which, being reared on the summit of a mountain that over- hung the fort, afforded a fine position from whence to gall the English. " Gracious powers, and Isidora is there !" cried Crisp, half frantic. No time was now to be lost ; the town was already won, although some desultory fighting still went on in the streets. He pointed on what was going forward to his general, (who had by this time effected an entrance.) and with- out wailing orders rallied his men, and with them at his heels rushed up the. mountains. His progress was much impeded by detached parties of the French who 95 disputed every inch of ground to give their comrades time to reach St. Ursuline's ; but Crisp was irresistible — he won his way from mountain to mountain, from height to height, and readied the convent nearly at the same moment with his enemies. An appalling scene now ensued. Each party strove to secure the building, the doors were burst open, men fell thick across the threshold, and their dying groans added fearfully to the already existing horrors. After a severe struggle, Crisp's little party was driven back, and the French obtained a lodgment ; it, however, availed them but little, as, in a few minutes afterwards, a dusky red re- flection upon the sky announced the edifice to be in flames. M Isidora ! now or never!" shouted Crisp, and waving on his soldiers he dashed into the burning pile. Chance, for nothing else could have conducted him through such confusion, led him unopposed to the refectory, whither the trembling nuns had retreated in dismay. Smoke filled the place, and fire festooned its walls, but a lover's eye penetrated the brilliant gloom, and our hero saw the Spanish maiden clinging to Isa- bella, in a state of the wildest affright. " 'Tis she, 'tis she !" he uttered, in broken tones of joy, and with one elastic bound he was at his loved one's side. Nei- ther spoke ; one look told volumes ; he held her for a mo- ment to his heart, then snatched her in his arms, and, followed by Isabella, bore her from that place. A French officer obstructed them ; Crispin Crisp stretched him lifeless upon the marble pavement. It now seemed as if Fate resolved to claim the prize which Crisp had fought so manfully to obtain, for in his progress along the gallery a hundred balls crossed each other in va- rious directions, with our hero in the midst, but good fortune preserved him unhurt, and he gained the stair- case without injury, when, as he was on the point of descending it, an aged monk arrested his arm. " My son," said the friar, " what would you do ? leave that poor girl to perish, rather than that one devoted to hea- ven should become polluted by an unholy intercourse with the world." 96 " She's not a nun — let me pass," exclaimed Crisp, " Never !" the sanctuary of the Lord shall not be profaned while I have life," said the monk sternly. Crisp paused ; he knew not how to act. His op- poser was a minister of God — of that God whom we all adore, however differently. Time was precious, yet Crispin (though half inclined) hesitated to strike, when suddenly a bullet whizzing across the gallery saved him the trouble, by entering the friar's forehead. He fell, like the snow-crowned rock beneath a thun- derbolt. After this, Crisp met with no more misadventures. The battle was gained through his bravery, and the general, in consequence of his wound, permitted him to return to England, giving him also a recommendation to government as worthy to be promoted. Our ad- venturer now turned to Isadora, and, with persuasive eye and tongue, asked her to accompany him. The lovely dark-eyed girl expressed her" willingness to do so, but, w T ith a due proportion of " oh's, ah's, and alas's !" feared she w T ould not be able, as her jewels and gold had been unfortunately left amid the convent ruins. Our hero declared that he should not care a button about it, if she would but bestow her hand up- on him on arriving in England. The lady blushed her consent, (she knew she felt sufficiently grateful to love him in time,) and to crown this happiness, Isabella now informed him that, with more foresight than her mis- tress, she had secured all the aforesaid valuables about her person. Thus all matters were pleasantly adjusted, and the three happy folks set sail for our " tight little island ;" but — ah me ! they were not many miles from their destination when a storm sprung up, and the vessel was nearly dashed to pieces against a rock. The concussion threw Crispin Crisp overboard, and, half choked with water, he had barely strength to grasp a spar which floated past him. " If this be a dream," he said, " this is going too far, and I'll sleep no longer. Here landlord, landlord, come and wake me." As he spoke his head struck against some hard substance, and he was completely stunned. 97 How long he remained insensible he could never tell, but when he awoke, he found himself (as he had all along anticipated) in his own snug little bed, at the Cat and Kittens Inn, where, our readers may remem- ber, he resided on their first introduction to him. For some moments he could scarcely believe the circum- stance ; he rubbed his eyes, he pinched himself, and played all sorts of antics, still the same well remem- bered objects presented themselves to view, and with a deep-drawn sigh he exclaimed, " Ah ! then I see it is a dream after all. And^that attractive creature too — so full of purity and love — alas ! I shall never see her more. Egad ! though, I'll get drunk every night, and who knows but what I may dream of her for ever." By this time he was up and half dressed, and after concluding that operation, he descended to the break- fast room, at the door of which he was met by his landlord. " Good morning, sir; I hope you feel quite reco- vered," quoth Taptub, with a congee. " I can't say I do, landlord, so much liquor upset me. I feel the swimming yet," replied Crisp. " Ha ! ha ! the liquor was not of the right sort for you," returned mine host, making way for his guest to enter. Crisp passed on, and immediately on opening the door, saw his quondam friends, Tom and Harry, seated between a couple of strange-looking fellows at the table, " A pretty trick you served me last night," said he, sitting down. 4i Last night !" said Harry, staring at him ; then, as if suddenly recollecting himself, he exclaimed, " Why, this is Crispin Crisp ! We hav'n't seen you for three years!" M O! I'm dozing again," said Crisp, dropping his head upon his breast. At this moment the landlord entered with information that a vessel, which had been beating about the coast all night, had now gone to pieces ; but that the crew and passengers were saved. " Now," added he, " as there is afire in this room — " 9 98 " I know what you would ask. Bring them in here by all means," interrupted Crisp, starting up with a feeling for which he could not account. " And tell your wife to come and attend them." " My wife, poor soul ! she has been dead this twelve- month," said Taptub, making his exit. " Dead ! What a lying rascal that is. Why, I saw her last night. Ha ! what form is that ? What bright vision again crosses my enraptured eyes ? It is Isa- dora. O ! if I do dream let me dream thus for ever !" It was indeed Isadora and Isabella, who were now brought in dripping with salt water. She uttered a scream of delight on again beholding our hero alive, and rushed into his arms. "For the love of heaven," he exclaimed, " let somebody explain this mystery, or I shall lose my senses." " We are the cause of it all, but you see to what we have brought ourselves through it," said Harry, holding up his wrists, and displaying a strong pair of handcuffs upon them. " However, if you will con- descend to give me your attention, I will explain every thing. Harry then entered upon a long story ; but, as I love all explanations to be short, I will give the sum total in my own words as concisely as possible. Tom and Harry were noted swindlers and gamblers, and had been concerned in some nefarious transactions with Lord K , (a half ruined blackleg,) over whom they thus acquired a power, which, whenever cash ran low, they did not fail to exercise. To rid himself of the yoke, K offered to procure one of them a commission in the army — as they had long contem- plated a trip abroad, to see what harvest might be reaped among the spendthrift soldiers — and, as the po- lice were on the alert to catch them, they expressed themselves thankful for the offer. While he was ma- king the necessary arrangements, they retired to the Cat and Kittens Inn, and there concocted plans for rai- sing a supply to outfit them in appearance as officer and servant. K visited them in their retreat to arrange with them concerning what name the com- 99 mission had better be applied for — as their own were too notorious. Prompted by a freak of fancy, they gave him one of the cards which they had received from Crispin Crisp : knowing him to be of a good fa- mily, and yet, from his pedestrian habits, believing him to be but little known — so that there was small chance of the imposture being discovered. In this they were mistaken, for we have seen that Captain Ran- dolph immediately recollected his relation's name, and Lord K , (having no means of explaining the mis- take without exposing himself,) was obliged to let the matter proceed, and, to prevent unpleasant conse- quences, forwarded his colleagues a sum of money, and informed them of what had happened in time to enable them to get out of the way — which they promptly did, laudably forgetting to discharge the little debts they had contracted in the neighbourhood. The wayward life which Crisp had led, left his mind open to strange impressions ; and, when he had found himself raised to a rank he had never so much as desired, he thought that it could be nothing more than a dream, and the idea gaining ground in his un- settled mind, produced a species of madness, distin- guished amongst the faculty by the name of " Mono- mania." Being insane but upon one point, and never divulging his thoughts to others, he passed muster without suspicion — save that he was considered to be a very eccentric fellow. Meanwhile, the swindlers proceeded to Spain — still bearing our hero's cognomen — and baited for gudgeons daily. It was Tom who ran up the jeweller's bill which Crisp eventually had to pay ; and it was Tom who thought to make a fine prize by running away with Isadora ; but that lady's brothers got scent of the affair, and with all the rage of Spaniards, flew sword in hand to avenge the preme- ditated insult upon their family. Tom was not, how- ever, fightable ; and falling upon his knees, implored for life in the most abject terms. With hearty con- tempt the young men granted his permission ; but in- sisted upon his immediately leaving the province and 100 embarking for England under their own observation. While this was going forward our hero was enabled to carry off the maiden unobstructed, which would not otherwise have been the case. The remainder of our denouement may now be guessed. Tom and Harry were recognized and seized a day or two after landing on the coast of Devonshire, and carried to the identi- cal inn which they left three years before, whilst the constables partook of refreshment. To this inn also was Crispin Crisp carried, having been washed ashore and discovered by some excise officers who were for- tunately on the look out. Our task — no pleasing duty — is now concluded. Crispin Crisp became convinced that he was awake, and married Isadora. He indulged a strange fancy that the good wishes of the poor woman whose distresses he had relieved on the morning succeeding his drunken bout had been somewhat instrumental in bringing about his present good fortune ; in consequence there- of, he sought her out and made her comfortable for life. Thus, moral and poetical justice was done to all par- ties, and thus conclude " The Adventures or Cris- pin Crisp !" 1 101 MY FIRST DUEL. " This is an awkward affair, Frank." " Why, yes," said Frank, "it is an awkward affair." "But I suppose I must go through with it," I con- tinued. "No doubt," rejoined my friend; "and you may rest assured, that although the anticipation is not very agreeable, you'll find the thing a mere bagatelle when on the ground." " You'll take care to have everything ready, and to call me betimes ; will you Frank?" " Certainly, my dear Ephraim, rely upon me ; and now, as it is already twelve, and we have to go out at six, perhaps I had better wish you good night, that you may rest and have a steady hand in the morning. Before I go, however, there is one thing I wish to mention to you." "And what is that?" said I. " Why," replied Frank, hesitatingly, " it is hardly worth troubling you about ; but the fact is, there is a custom — that is, people have on these occasions a sort of habit of making their — their " " Their exit I presume you mean ?" " Not so, my dear fellow; nothing was farther from my thoughts, as I hope (with God's will) nothing is farther from fact than the probability of such a catas- trophe to the present " " Farce ; but come, Frank what is this that you would require of me, or enjoin me to ?" " Briefly, then, Ephraim, might it not be as well now as at any other time, just for form's sake, to scratch down a memorandum of your wishes respect- ing the disposal of your property ?" 9* 102 " Oh Lord !" said I, " is that the mouse your mountain laboured with? My property! God forgive you, Frank ! Well as Tom Moore says — ' I give thee all ; I can no more. 3 I will bequeath you my debts, with a proviso that you don't pay interest; but seriously, I'll think of what you say; and now, good night; and for Heaven's sake be punctual in the morning!" " Never fear that. Good night," said Frank ; " and do you hear, Ephraim ? You may take a pint of Madeira if you have an inclination to it, to-night; but not a drop of port, sherry, or brandy. I must have you placed with a cool head, a clear eve, and a steady fist." " Very well," said I, " I promise to be observant of your orders ;" and after once more exchanging greetings, the door closed, and I was left to myself. " Well," said I, when I found myself alone, " this is a delightful sort of dilemma to be placed in. If I loved the girl, there would be some satisfaction in standing up to be shot at for her ; but to be blazed away at for a wench that I don't care a curse for — to be compelled to fight for a mere flirtation — is certainly at the least, very disagreeable. However, I suppose I must let the fellow have a brush at me, and so there is no more to be said on that head. By-the-by, Frank hinted (with prophetic foresight, I presume) at the ne- cessity of my disposing in writing of my moveables. tfllons done, let me see. First, there is my linen and my clothes ; let poor Betty have them, to recompense her in part for the colds she has caught in letting me in many a morning; the chances are she'll catch no more on that errand. My coins and medals may be given to C. Then there are my books, and chief of them all, sinner as I am, my Bible, if I dare name it with the purpose of blood upon my mind. I charge you, Frank, deliver it yourself to my dear and widow- ed mother ; tell her I revered its precepts, although I lacked the strength of mind that should have made me hold them fast and follow them ; and, above all, never, 103 never crush her bowed, and bruised, and lowly spirit with the truth of all the weakness, the folly, the impiety, that will mingle in my end ! Tell her I fell by sword, plague, pestilence, or famine ; but tell her not I fell at a task my common sense — my heart — my soul, which owns its divine origin — revolts from !— tell her not I fell as a duellist — Down, down my heart ! the world must be worshipped. My other books may be divi- ded between and and , except my series of Ana, my Hogarth, and Viel's and Bachaumont's and La Chapelle's and Langle's Joumies, and my Bigar- rures ; reserve them, with my Meerschaum, to your- self, and over them remember the happy hours that you have spent before with them and him who thanks you now for all your warm-hearted kindnesses. In the drawer of my desk will be found a portrait and some letters ; I need not say whose they are, but I entreat you, my dear Frank, I conjure you, to take them into your own hands — to let no other look upon them, and to deliver them to her ! Gloss the circum- stances of my death, and let the tidings fall gently on her ; but tell her, amid all my sins and all my follies, I remembered her, and loved her, and her only, and more earnestly in the last moment of my life than when I held her on my bosom. Tell her " I had written thus far when I was interrupted by a tapping at my door, and when I opened it Frank was there. " Is it time then already ? saicl^L " Yes," said he. " I am glad to see you ready. Come, we have few moments to lose." "The hours have flown with strange rapidity," I said ; " but I am prepared. You spoke to me last night of a will ; doubtless it was a necessary precau- tion, and I thank you for the hint. I have attended to it, and have noted my wishes ; here is a memorandum of them, and I confide the execution of them to you ; I know you will not refuse the task." " God forbid," said Frank, taking my hand, " that 104 I should ; but God forbid that there should be occasion for my offices." "I also hope, ray dear friend," I replied, "that there may be no such necessity ; but I have a presen- timent (and my presentiments have seldom boded me falsely) that this morning's work will be my last." "Don't say that, Ephraim," said Frank; " if I thought that — but good God ! how can I get you out of it?" " Out of it !" I exclaimed ; " you mistake me. I cannot prevent my conviction ; but if I saw my grave dug at my feet, I would not retrace the steps I have taken. Come, come, I am ready ;" and, taking him by the arm, I drew him from the room, and we quitted the house silently, and in a few minutes were on the ground. On arriving there, I found that my adversary (whom I had never seen before) was beforehand with us ; he was a tall, raw, gaunt, muscular fellow, with an enormous pair of mustachios, and having altogether very much the appearance of one of Napoleon's old sab'reurs. We saluted each other coldly, and then turned away, while the seconds retired to settle the preliminaries ; their conference lasted some time, and appeared to bear grievously upon my adversary's pa- tience, for he seemed eager to despatch me. At last he addressed them. " Gentlemen," he said, "I beg pardon, but I think we may arrange in a breath all that is to be arranged. First, then," he said, speak- ing to Frank, " do you choose fifteen or twenty paces?" Frank unhesitatingly named the latter, out of regard to my safety. " Bon," said the fellow, as he made a scratch in the turf with his heel, and prepared to take the distance. I confess I was rejoiced at the thought of his measuring it, for I thought I perceived an omen of salvation in the length of his legs ; in this, however, I 105 was disappointed, for the vagabond stepped the ground as mincingly as a lady in pattens. •' And dow," when he had finished that part of the business, " and now," said he, with a coolness that matched that of the morning, and bespoke him terribly aufait to the business, ' ; whose weapons are we to use ? Yours ? They are only a common holster pair ; mine are rifle-barrelled and hair-triggered, and in every way superior to those machines ; what say you to using mine ? they'll make shorter work of the business." ; - Xo doubt," thought I. " What say you, Ephraim?" said Frank. " O, by all means ; what is good for the goose is good for the gander," I answered, with an attempt at a smile ; Frank therefore assented. " Bon," said the fellow again ; " and now, for the first fire ; has any body a piece of money about them ? Oh, here, I have one ;" and he handed it to his second, who flung it up, and the result was in his favour. Frank then came up to me, and. seizing my hand with passionate interest, said to me, in a tone of agitation, "Ephraim, my dear boy. be of good cheer; that hulking blackguard* is evidently trying to bully you, but be of good cheer ; let me place you ; you are but a lath, give him your side ; you know it is dis- puted whether on these occasions it is most prudent to give the front or the side, but let me govern you here ; you are but a lath, give him your side, and the devil himself can't hit you. God bless you, and keep you !" And so saying, and again pressing my hand, he withdrew. Immediately after which we placed our- selves, and the next instant the signal was given. As soon as I heard it, I looked straight at my adversary, and saw him raise his pistol and steady it; I saw him eye me with the keenness of a hawk and the precision of a master ; it was but the fair half-second, but I knew and was certain he had covered me. The next instant I felt a blow, as it were, on the outside of my right elbow, and a something like ice stealing along the arm 106 as it dropped nerveless and with the weight of lead by ray side, and I heard the report of his weapon. I was winged clean as a whistle. Frank perceived how it was with me, and was by my side in a twinkling, bandaging my arm with the handkerchief he tore from his neck. " Are you faint, Ephraimj" " Not at all," I said ; " But make haste, I long for my revenge." "Is the gentleman hurt?" inquired my adversary, with a half-stifled sardonic grin. " Not a whit," said I, and he bowed. " Can you give him his charge ?" inquired Frank. 61 O never fear," I answered ; " let me have the pistol." He handed it to me ; I grasped it, but I es- sayed in vain to raise it ; my right arm was more dis- abled than I thought. " Try him with the left," said Frank. I did so, but found the pistol far heavier than I had conceived, and much heavier than I knew my own to be ; it was impossible to level it with my left. I look- ed at my adversary and saw his features relax into a damnable Mephistopholic grin. I maddened with un- speakable rage. " Hell and the devil !" I exclaimed, "is there no having a slap at the long-legged rascal?" " I fear not," said Frank ; " but," he added, with affectionate warmth, "stand back and I'll fight his second for you." " That's out of the question," I replied ; let me try my left again." I did so, and felt convinced the pistol was more than usually heavy. I held it by the barrel and then I felt assured the butt was plugged heavily with lead. The thought of treachery immediately came across me. The first fire won at his own call on the toss of a florin from his own purse probably, and a piece contrived for these occasions, with the same impression on both sides. My right arm shatter- ed certainly by aim, and his pistol of a weight that prevented all possibility of its being levelled with the 107 left hand ; all concurred to assure me I was the victim of a scoundrel. " But it shall not go thus," I said, as I thrust Frank on one side, and advanced towards the villain with the cool purpose of blowing his brains out ; " it shall not go thus!" And as I neared him, I poised the butt of the pistol with my left hand against my chest, and put my finger on the trigger to draw in his face. Fortu- nately, Frank who was ignorant of my suspicions, closed on me at the very critical instant, and wrenched the weapon from my grasp, exclaiming, at the same time, " Would you commit murder ?" " With pleasure," I answered, " upon such a mur- derous villain as this !" But he was now secure from my fire, and seeing himself so, and safe in his superior physical strength, he sneered at me with such mean demoniacal insult, that unable to withold myself any longer, I rushed on him and grappled with him ; but I was weak from pain and loss of blood, and I fainted. Suddenly I was aroused by some one shaking me violently. I looked up ; it was Frank. " Up, up, man," he cried. "Up," I said, "for what?" " For what," he replied, " to save my character and your own, if you have any care about either. Why, it wants but a quarter to six, and at six we must be on the ground." " What, have I not been shot then ?" I said. " Shot !" he exclaimed, " who the devil has been here to shoot you? Why you have been dreaming." It was true ; I had drawn my table to my bed-side to make my will, and had fallen back asleep, and dreamed what I have related. " Then I suppose I must be shot again ?" " There's little fear of that, thank Heaven," said Frank, " for I have just learnt that your adversary, in alarm at your prowess has bolted." " Indeed," said I, as coolly as I could, but inwardly thanking God heartily for my deliverance from jeop- ardy. 108 " Yes," continued Frank, " so it is ; but come, we must take our ground, and give the vagabond an hour's law." " With all my heart," said I ; and in five minutes I was dressed and on my way to the spot, with a light- ed cheroot in my mouth, and truth to say, entre nous, a lighter heart under my waistcoat than I think I should else have carried to the field. On the ground we found Captain M., the fellow's second, who informed us he understood his principal had taken flight, and vowed summary vengeance on him when and wherever he should meet him, for the insult he had offered him by his pusillanimous con- duct. To be brief, we waited one hour, and my an- tagonist did not appear. Frank thus addressed him- self to his second : — " Captain M.," he said, " you will do my friend the justice to say he has behaved as becomes a brave and and an honourable man?" " Most certainly," said the Captain ; and we quit- ted the ground, and I proceeded to post the recreant ; after which the Captain, Frank, and I together took steaks and claret for breakfast. And thus ended " the first duel" of a half-bearded boy. Ephraim Twigg. 109 THE WORLD AS IT IS. A TALE. " What a delightful thing the world is ! Lady Lennox's ball, last night — how charming it was ! — every one so kind, and Charlotte looking so pretty — the nicest girl I ever saw ! But I must dress now. Balfour is to be here at twelve with the horse he wants to sell me. How lucky I am to have such a friend as Balfour !- — so entertaining — so good-natured — so devil- ish clever too — and such an excellent heart ! Ah ! how unlucky ! it rains a little ; but never mind, it will clear up ; and if it don't — why, there's billiards. What a delightful thing the world is !" So soliloquized Charles Nugent, a man of twenty- one — a philanthropist — an optimist. Our young gen- tleman was an orphan, of good family and large for- tune ; brave, generous, confiding, and open-hearted. His ability was above the ordinary standard, and he had a warm love and a pure taste for letters. He had even bent a knee to Philosophy, but the calm and cold graces with which the goddess receives her servants had soon discontented the young votary with the wor- ship. " Away!" cried he, one morning, flinging aside the volume of La Rochefoucault, which he had fan- cied he understood ; " Away with this selfish and de- basing code ! — men are not the mean things they are here described — be it mine to think exultingly of my species !" My dear Experience, with how many fine sentiments do you intend to play the devil ? It is not without reason that Goethe tells us, that though Fate 10 110 is an excellent, she is also a very expensive schoolmis- tress. " Ha ! my dear Nugent, how are you ?" and Cap- tain Balfour enters the room ; a fine dark, handsome fellow, with something of pretension in his air and a great deal of frankness. " And here is the horse. Come to the window. Does not he step finely? What action! Do you remark his forehead? How he carries his tail ! Gad, I don't think you shall have him, after all !" " Nay, my dear fellow, you may well be sorry to part with him. He is superb ! Quite sound — eh ?" " Have him examined." "Do you think I would not take your word for it ? The price ?" " Fix it yourself. Prince Paul once offered me a hundred-and-eighty ; but to you " " You shall have it." " No, Nugent — say, a hundred-and-fifty." "I won't be outdone — there's a draft for the 180/." " Upon my soul, I'm ashamed ; but you are such a rich fellow. John, take the horse to Mr. Nugent's stables. Where will you dine to-day ? — at the Cocoa- tree ?" " With ail my heart." The young men rode together. Nugent was de- lighted with his new purchase. They dined at the Co- coa-tree. Balfour ordered some early peaches. Nu- gent paid the Bill. They went to the Opera. " Do you see that danseuse, Florine ?" asked Bal- four. " Pretty ancle— eh ?" " Yes, comme ga — but dances awkwardly — not handsome." " What ? not handsome ? Come and talk to her. She's more admired than any girl on the stage." They went behind the scenes, and Balfour convin- ced his friend that he ought to be enchanted with Flo- rine. Before the week was out the danseuse, kept her carriage, and in return, Nugent supped with her twice a-week. Ill Nugent had written a tale for " The Keepsake ;" it was his first literary effort ; it was tolerably good and exceedingly popular. One day he was lounging over his breakfast, and a tall, thin gentleman, in black, was announced, by the name of Mr. Gilpin. Mr. Gilpin made a most respectful bow, and heaved a peculiar profound sigh. Nugent was instantly seized with a lively interest in the stranger. " Sir, it is with great regret," faltered forth Mr. Gilpin, "that I seek vou. I — I — I — " — a low, consumptive cough checked his speech. Nugent offered him a cup of tea. The civility was refused, and the story continued. Mr. Gilpin's narration is soon told, when he himself is not the narrator. An unfortunate literary man — once in affluent circumstances — security for a treacherous friend — friend absconded— pressure of unforeseen cir- cumstances — angel wife and four cherub children — a book coming out next season — deep distress at present — horror at being forced to beg — generous sentiments expressed by Mr. Nugent forcibly struck him — a ray of hope broke on his mind — and voila the causes of Mr. Gilpin's distress and Mr. Gilpin's visit. Never was there a more interesting personification of the afflicted man of letters than Gregory Gilpin. He looked pale, patient, and respectable ; he coughed frequently, and he was dressed in deep mourning. Nugent's heart swelled — he placed a bank-note in Mr. Gilpin's hands — he promised more effectual relief, and Mr. Gilpin re- tired, overpowered with his own gratitude and Mr. Nu- 2-ent's respectful compassion. " How happy I am to be rich !" said the generous young philanthropist, throwing open his chest. Nugent went to a conversazione at Lady Lennox's. Her Ladyship was a widow, and a charming woman. She was a little of the blue, and a little of the fine lady, and a little of the beauty, and a little of the coquette, and a great deal of the sentimentalist. She had one daughter, without a shilling ; she had taken a warm interest in a young man of the remarkable talents and amiability of Charles Nugent. He sate next her— 112 they talked of the heartlessness of the world — it is a subject on which men of twenty-one and ladies of for- ty-five are especially eloquent. Lady Lennox com- plained, Mr. Nugent defended. " One does not talk much of innocence," it is said, or something like it is said, some where in Madame d'Epinay's Memoirs, " without being sadly corrupted ;" and nothing brings out the goodness of our own hearts more than a charge against the heartlessness of others. " An excellent woman !" thought Nugent ; " what warm feelings ! — how pretty her daughter is ! Oh ! a charming family !" Charlotte Lennox played an affecting air; Nugent leaned over the piano ; they talked about music, poe- try, going on the water, sentiment, and Richmond Hill. They made up a party of pleasure. Nugent did not sleep well that night — he was certainly in love. When he rose the next morning, the day was bright and fine ; Balfour, the best of friends, was to be with him in an hour ; Balfour's horse, the best of horses, was to convey him to Richmond ; and at Richmond he was to meet Lady Lennox, the most agreeable of mothers — and Charlotte, the most enchanting of daugh- ters. The danseuse had always been a bore — she was now forgotten. " It certainly is a delightful world !" repeated Nugent, as he tied his neckcloth. It was some time — we will not say how long — af- ter the date of this happy day ; Nugent was alone in his apartment, and walking to and fro — his arms fold- ed, and a frown upon his brow. " What a rascal ! what a mean wretch ! — and the horse was lame when he sold it — not worth ten pounds! — and I so con- fiding — damn my folly ! That, however, I should not mind ; but to have saddled me with his cast-off mistress ! — to make me the laughing-stock of the world! By heavens, he shall repent it ! Borrowed money of me, then made a jest of my good-nature ! — introduced me to his club, in order to pillage me ! — but, thank God, thank God, I can shoot him vet ! Ha ! Colonel ; this is kind !" 113 Colonel Nelmore, an elderly gentleman, well known in society, with a fine forehead, a shrewd, contempla- tive eye, and an agreeable address, entered the room. To him Nugent poured forth the long list of his griev- ances, and concluded by begging him to convey a challenge to the best of friends — Captain Balfour. The colonel raised his eyebrows. " But, — my dear Sir, — this gentleman has certainly behaved ill to you, I allow it — but for what specific offence do you mean to challenge him ?" " For his conduct in general." The Colonel laughed. " For saying yesterday, then, that I was grown a d — d bore, and he should cut me in future. He told Selwyn so in the bow-window at White's." The Colonel took snuff. " My good young friend," said he, " I see you don't know the world. Come and dine with me to-day — a punctual seven. We'll talk over these matters. Mean- while, you can't challenge a man for calling you a bore." "Not challenge him ! — what should I do then?" " Laugh — shake your head at him, and say — 'Ah ! Balfour, you're a sad fellow !' " The Colonel succeeded in preventing the challenge, but Nugent's indignation at the best of friends remain- ed as warm as ever. He declined the Colonel's invi- tation — he was to dine with the Lennox's. Mean- while, he went to the shady part of Kensington Gar- dens to indulge his reflections. He sat himself down in an arbour, and looked mo- ralizingly over the initials, the dates, and the witticisms, that hands, long since mouldering, have consigned to the admiration of posterity. A gay party were strolling by this retreat— their laughter preceded them. " Yes," said a sharp, dry- voice, which Nugent recognized as belonging to one of the wits of the day — " Yes, I saw you, Lady Len- nox, talking sentiment to Nugent — fie ! how could you waste your time so unprofitably !" 10* 114 " Ah ! poor young man ! he is certainly Men bete, with his fine phrases and so forth : but 'tis a good crea- ture on the whole, and exceedingly useful !" m Useful !" " Yes ; fills up a vacant place at one's table, at a day's warning ; lends me his carriage-horses when mine have caught cold ; subscribes to my charities for me ; and supplies the drawing-room with flowers. In a word, if he were more sensible, he would be less agreeable : his sole charm is his foibles." Proh, Jupiter ! what a description from the most sentimental of mothers of the most talented, the most interesting of young men. Nugent was thunderstruck ; the party swept by ; he was undiscovered. He raved, he swore, he was furious. He go to din- ner to-day ! No, he would write such a letter to the lady — it should speak daggers ! But the daughter : Charlotte was not of the party. Charlotte — oh ! Charlotte was quite a different creature from her mo- ther — the most natural, the most simple of human be- ings, and evidently loved him. He could not be mis- taken there. Yes, for her sake he would go to the dinner; he would smother his just resentment. He went to Lady Lennox's. It was a large party. The young Marquis of Austerly had just returned from his travels. He was sitting next to the most love- ly of daughters. Nugent was forgotten. After dinner, however, he found an opportunity to say a few words in a whisper to Charlotte. He hint- ed a tender reproach, and he begged her to sing " We met ; 'twas in a crowd." Charlotte was hoarse — had caught cold. Charlotte could not sing. Nugent left the room. When he got to the end of the street, he discovered that he had left his cane behind. He went back for it, glad (for he was really in love) of an excuse for darting an angry glance at the most simple, the most natural of human beings, that should prevent her sleeping the whole night. He ascended the draw- ing-room ; and Charlotte was delighting the Marquis of Austerly, who leaned over her chair, with " We met ; 'twas in a crowd." 115 Charlotte Lennox was young, lovely, and artful. Lord Austerly was young, inexperienced, and vain. In less than a month, he proposed, and was accepted. " Well, well !" said poor Nugent one morning, breaking from a reverie; " betrayed in my friendship, deceived in my love, the pleasure of doing good is still left to me. Friendship quits us at the first stage of life, Love at the second, Benevolence lasts till death ! Poor Gilpin ! how grateful he is : I must see if I can get him that place abroad." To amuse his thoughts, he took up a new magazine. He opened the page at a violent attack on himself — on his beautiful tale in the " Keepsake." The satire was not confined to the work ; it extended to the author. He was a fop, a coxcomb, a ninny, an intellectual dwarf, a miserable creature, and an abortion. These are pleasant studies for a man out of spirits, especially before he is used to them. Nugent had just flung the magazine to the other end of the room, when his lawyer came to ar- range matters about a mortgage, which the generous Nugent had already been forced to raise on his estates. The lawyer was a pleasant, entertaining man o( the world, accustomed to the society, for he was accus- tomed to the wants of young men. He perceived Nu- gent was a little out of humour. He attributed the cause, naturally enough, to the mortgage ; and to di- vert his thoughts, he entered first on a general conver- sation. "What rogues there are in the world!" said he. Nugent groaned. " This morning, for instance, before I came to you, I was engaged in a curious piece of business enough. A gentleman gave his son-in-law a qualification to stand for a borough : the son-in-law kept the deed, and so cheated the good gentleman out of more than 300/. a-year. Yesterday I was employed against a fraudu- lent bankrupt — such an instance of long, premeditated, cold-hearted, deliberate rascality ! And when I leave you^ I must see what is to be done with a literary swindler, who, on the strength of a consumptive cough, 116 and a suit of black, has been respectably living on com- passion for the last two years." "Ha!" " He has just committed the most nefarious fraud — a forgery, in short, on his own uncle, who has twice seriously distressed himself to save the rogue of a ne- phew, and who must now submit to this loss, or pro- claim, by a criminal prosecution, the disgrace of his own family. The nephew proceeded, of course, on his knowledge of my client's goodness of heart ; and thus a man suffers in proportion to his amiability." " Is his name Gil — Gil — Gilpin !" stammered Nu- gent. " The same ! O-ho ! have you been bit, too, Mr. Nugent?" Before our hero could answer, a letter was brought to him. Nugent tore the seal: it was from the edi- tor of the magazine in which he has just read his own condemnation. It ran thus : — " Sir, — Having been absent from London on una- voidable business for the last month, and the care of the Magazine having thereby devolved on another, who has very ill discharged its duties, I had the sur- prise and mortification of perceiving, on my return this day, that a most unwarrantable and personal at- tack upon you has been admitted in the number for this month. I cannot sufficiently express my regret, the more especially on finding that the article in ques- tion was written by a mere mercenary in letters. To convince you of my concern, and my resolution to guard against such unworthy proceedings in future, I enclose you another, and yet severer attack, which was sent to us for our next number, and for which, I grieve to say, the unprincipled author has already suc- ceeded in obtaining from the proprietors — a remune- ration," &c. &c. &c. Nugent's eyes fell on the enclosed paper : it was in the hand-writing of Mr. Gregory Gilpin, the most grateful of distressed literary men. " You seem melancholy to-day, my dear Nugent," 117 said Colonel Nelmore, as he met his young friend walking with downcast eyes on the old mall of St. James's Park, " I am unhappy, I am discontented ; the gloss is faded from life,'' answered Nugent, sighing. " I love meeting with a pensive man," said the Colonel : " let me join you, and let us dine together, tete-a-tete, at my bachelor's house. You refused me some time ago ; may 1 be more fortunate now?" " I shall be but poor company," rejoined Nugent; "but I am very much obliged to you, and I accept your invitation with pleasure." Colonel Nelmore was a man who had told some fifty years. He had known misfortune in his day, and he had seen a great deal of the harsh realities of life. But he had not suffered nor lived in vain. He was no theorist, and did not affect the philosopher ; but he was contented with a small fortune, popular with retired habits, observant with a love for study, and, above all, he did a great deal of general good, ex- actly because he embraced no particular system. "Yes," said Nugent, as they sat together after din- ner, and the younger man had unbosomed to the elder, who had been his father's most intimate friend, all that had seemed to him the most unexampled of misfor- tunes — after he had repeated the perfidies of Balfour, the faithlessness of Charlotte, and the rascalities of Gilpin — " Yes," said he, " I now see my error; I no longer love my species ; I no longer place reliance in the love, friendship, sincerity, or virtue of the world ; I will no longer trust myself open-hearted in this vast community of knaves ; I will not fly mankind, but I will despise them." The Colonel smiled. "You shall put on your hat, my young friend, and pay a little visit with me : — nay, no excuse ; it is only an old lady, who has given me permission to drink tea with her." Nugent demur- red, but consented. The two gentlemen walked to a small house in the Regent's Park. They were admit- ted to a drawing-room, where they found a blind old 118 lady, of a cheerful countenance and prepossessing manners. "And how does your son do?" asked the Colonel, after the first salutations were over, "have you seen him lately ?" " Seen him lately ! why you know he rarely lets a day pass without calling on or writing to me. Since the affliction which visited me with blindness, though he has nothing to hope from me, though from my jointure I must necessarily be a burthen to one of his limited income and mixing so much with the world as he does ; yet had I been the richest mother in England, and everything at my disposal, he could not have been more attentive, more kind to me. He will cheerfully give up the gayest party to come and read to me, if I am the least unwell, or the least out of spi- rits ; and he sold his horses to pay Miss Blandly, since I could not afford from my own income to pay the salary, so accomplished a musician asked to become my companion. Music, you know, is now my chief luxury. Oh, he is a paragon of sons — the world think him dissipated and heartless ; but if they could see how tender he is to me !" exclaimed the mother, clasping her hands, as the tears gushed from her eyes. Nugent was charmed : the Colonel encouraged the la- dy to proceed ; and Nugent thought he had never pass- ed a more agreeable hour than in listening to her ma- ternal praises of her affectionate son. " Ah, Colonel !" said he, as they left the house, " how much wiser have you been than myself; you have selected your friends with discretion. What would not I give to possess such a friend as that good son must be ! But you never told me the lady's name." " Patience," said the Colonel, taking snuff, " I have another visit to pay." Nelmore turned down a little alley, and knocked at a small cottage. A woman with a child at her breast opened the door ; and Nugent stood in one of those scenes of cheerful poverty which it so satisfies the complacency of the rich to behold. 119 " Aha !" said Xelmore, looking round, " you seem comfortable enough now ; your benefactor has not done his work by halves." " Blessings on his heart, no ! Oh, Sir, when I think how distressed he is himself, how often he has been put *o it for money, how calumniated he is by the world. I cannot express how grateful I am, how grateful I ought to be. He has robbed himself to feed us, and merely because he knew my husband in youth." The Colonel permitted the woman to run on. Xu- gent wiped his eyes, and left his purse behind him. " Who is this admirable, this self-denying man V cried he, when they were once more in the street. " He is in distress himself — would I could relieve him ! Ah, you already reconcile me to the world. I ackow- ledge your motive, in leading me hither ; there are good men as well as bad. All are not Balfours and Gilpins ! But the name — the name of these poor peo- ple's benefactor!" "Stay," said the Colonel, as they now entered Ox- ford-street ; " this is lucky indeed, I see a good lady whom I wish to accost." " Well, Mrs. Johnson," addressing- a stout, comely, middle-aged woman of re- spectable appearance, who, with a basket on her arm, was coming out of an oil-shop; " so you have been labouring in your vocation I see — making household purchases. And how is your young lady V " Very well, Sir, I am happy to say," replied the woman, curtsevingr. " And vou are well too, I hope, Sir." "Yes, considering the dissipation of the long sea- son, pretty well, thank you. But I suppose your young mistress is as gay and heartless as ever — a mere fashionable wife, eh !" "Sir!" said the woman, bridling up, "there is not a better lady in the world than my young lady; I have known her since she was that high !" "What, she's good-tempered, I suppose?" said the Colonel sneering. lZ\J " Good-tempered — I believe it is impossible for her to say a harsh word to any one. There never was so mild," so even-like a temper." " What, and not heartless, eh ! this is too good i" " Heartless ! she nursed me herself when I broke my leg coming up-stairs ; and every night before she went to bed would come into my room with her sweet smile, and see if I wanted anything." "And you fancy, Mrs. Johnson, that she'll make a good wife : why she was not much in love when she married." "I don't know as to that, Sir, whether she was or not ; but I'm sure she is always studying my Lord's wishes, and I heard him myself say this very morn ing to his brother — ' Arthur, if you knew what a trea- sure I possess.' " " You are very right," said the Colonel, resuming his natural manner ; " and I only spoke for the pleasure of seeing how well and how justly you could defend your mistress : she is, truly, an excellent lady — good evening to you." "I have seen that woman before," said Nugent, " but I can't think where ; she has the appearance of being a housekeeper in some family." " She is so." " How pleasant it is to hear of female excellence in the great world," continued Nugent, sighing ; k ' it was evident to see the honest servant was sincere in her praise. Happy husband, whoever he may be !" They were now at the Colonel's house. "Just let me read this passage," said Nelmore, opening the pages of a French Philosopher, and as I do not pro- nounce French like a native, I will translate as I pro- ceed. " In order to love mankind — expect but little from them ; in order to view their faults, without bitterness, we must accustom ourselves to pardon them, and to perceive that indulgence is a justice which frail hu- manity has a right to demand from wisdom. Now nothing tends more to dispose us to indulgence, to 121 close our hearts against hatred, to open them to the principles of a humane and soft morality, than a pro- found knowledge of the human heart — that knowledge which La Rochetbucault possessed. Accordingly, the wisest men have always been the most indulgent,*' &c. . " And now prepare to be surprised. That good son whom you admired so much — whom you wished you could obtain as a friend, is Captain Balfour — that gen- erous, self-denying man. whom you desired yourself so nobly to relieve, is Mr. Gilpin — that young lady who in' the flush of health, beauty, dissipation, and conquest, could attend the sick chamber of her servant, and whom her husband discovers to be a treasure, is Charlotte Lennox !" «• Good Heavens !" cried Nugent, " what then am I to believe? has some juggling been practised on my understanding, and are Balfour, Gilpin, and Miss Len- nox, after all, patterns of perfection?" " No, indeed, very far from it : Balfour is a dissi- pated, reckless man — of loose morality and a low stan- dard of honour ; he saw you were destined to purchase experience — he saw you were destined to be plunder- ed by some one — he thought he might as well be a candidate for the profit. He laughed afterwards at your expense — not because he despised you ; on the contrary, I believe that he liked you very much in his way, but because in the world he lives in, every man enjoys a laugh at his acquaintance. Charlotte Lennox saw in you a desirable match ; nay, I believe she had a positive regard for you ; but she had been taught all her life to think equipage, wealth, and station better than love. She could not resist the temptation of be- ing Marchioness of Austerly — not one girl in twenty could ; yet she is not on that account the less good- tempered, good-natured, or less likely to be a good mistress and a tolerable wife. Gilpin is the worst in- stance of the three. Gilpin is an evident scoundrel ; but Gilpin is in evident distress. He was in all pro- bability very sorry to attack vou who had benefited 11 * 122 him so largely ; but perhaps, as he is a dull dog, the only thing the Magazines would buy of him was abuse. You must not think he maligned you out of malice, out of ingratitude, out of wantonness ; he maligned you for ten guineas. Yet Gilpin is a man, who, hav- ing swindled his father out of ten guineas, would, in the joy of the moment give five to a beggar. In the present case he was actuated by abetter feeling; he was serving the friend of his childhood — few men forget those youthful ties, however they trample on others. Your mistake was not the single mistake of supposing the worst people the best — it was the double mistake of supposing common-place people — now the best — now the worst ; — in making what might have been a pleasant acquaintance an intimate friend ; in believing a man in distress must necessarily be a man of merit; in thinking a good-tempered, pretty girl, was an exalted specimen of Human Nature. You were then about to fall into the opposite extreme — and to be as indiscriminating in suspicion as you were in credulity. Would that I could flatter myself, that I had saved you from that — the more dangerous error of the two!" " You have — my dear Nelmore ; and now lend me your Philosopher !" " With pleasure; but one short maxim is as good as all Philosophers can teach you, for Philosophers can only enlarge on it — it is simple — it is this — « take Mitio. 123 A MISS-DIRECTED LETTER. [By a very extraordinary accident, arising perhaps from the circumstance of an interregnum in the Post Office department, the following letter, evidently in- tended for somebody else, has been delivered at the office of the " New Monthly Magazine." The direc- tion reads as if it were meant for Mr. Colburn, but it is certain, that although his Christian name be Henry, no- body would address as " Dear Henriette ;" besides which, it would be a work of supererogation to write an account of what is going on in England to the proprietor of the " Court Journal." The fact appears to be, that the letter is the fulfilment of a promise on the part of some French Nobleman or Gentleman — they are all Counts in the indictment of letters — to give some chere amie a de- tail of his proceedings in the English metropolis. As it has fairly been delivered in Marlborough-street, we make no ceremony in using it ; the signature is scarcely legible — it looks something like " Pickle and Mustard.'''' We were, however, not sufficiently in- terested in the result, to send for either Mr. Wilkinson or Mr. Pettigrew to decipher it ; as we have it, so have our readers."] London, June 16, 1834. My dear Henriette, — According to my promise, I sit down to give you news of myself, again in this dull city, which its dull inhabitants fancy one of the loveliest spots on the face of the earth, just as a toad, hermetically sealed in a block of stone, believes his sitting-room 124 extremely convenient. People like the English, who eat so much solid food, and drink port wine and porter, have but a very cloudy notion of the volatility and volu- bility which light food, light wine, and a clear sky na- turally inspire. I cannot for myself endure the mise- rable, smoky, brick houses, ranged like so many dens along the streets, into which their windows give light ; and in London there are not a dozen inclosed or in- sulated houses. Burlington House is one — it is deserted. Devon- shire House is another — But our charming Duke is not yet in town. The Duke of Portland's, in Caven- dish-square, is a third-— but he is gone to Lisbon with his daughter, Lady Howard de Walden, who has taken her departure to join her husband, who has most fa- vourably distinguished himself as a diplomatist. Roke- by, the agreeable Edward Montague, (of whom I used once to be jealous,) has a fourth, at the corner of Port- man-square ; a house altogether in a garden, in which I am told, formerly the chimney-sweepers were wont to banquet on May-day ; the present appearance of the building gives one every reason to believe that they were in the habit of leaving the contents of their soot- bags on the premises before they retired. Lord Lansdowne's is another good specimen of a garden house, and he has hit upon a mode of lighting a saloon new to me, and quite delightful; the lamps are placed outside of large plate-glass fan-lights, so that you have all the illumination and none of the caloric. Lord Chesterfield's is another such house, but much unemployed. Dorchester House is another, but Lord Hertford, in consequence of the recent death of the dowager Marchioness, has not yet blazed forth in his accustomed splendour. I was making an observation upon the want of fine hotels in London, to a wit here, and said to him as I have said to you, that there were not above a dozen houses in the town, entre cour et jardin. Said he, 1 will show you one more than you have reckoned, and that is a bookseller's shop at the corner of Bow-street. How, said I, can that be entre 125 coin- et jardin? "-Because," said he, " it is between Man\eix-court and C event- gar den." Although I cannot bring myself to admire London, I must admit that I am extremely well received — ab- solutely feted. The women of this country have a decided affection for foreigners, and give the strong- est possible practical proofs of distaste for their heavy, plodding, slumbering husbands and fathers, and clus- ter round an exotic Tike bees about a rose-bush. Still Henriette, dear Henriette, you are secure ; my affec- tions are not to be warped or influenced by these II agitating attacks." I like to see the world, and hav- ing as you know and they do not, but limited means, I endure these oppressive attentions in order to gratify my propensity for inquiry upon the most reasonable terms ; not to speak of the advantages derivable to me from an unrestricted intercourse with all classes of so- ciety in the communications which I am able to make to our friend De M., as to affairs in general, for which, I ought to tell you, he has at last agreed to increase my remuneration. Hating the English character as I do, it is quite glorious so voluptuously to forage upon the enemy. You will perceive that I am " Count" in this country — the ladies and the newspapers have given me this brevet ; as it is not the fashon in England to appear decore, my having no kind of order does not appear so remarkable here as it does on the continent. I have got the smallest possible lodgings, in Duke- street, St. James's ; but I live entirely on the world, which delights to natter and feed me ; and having got my name into a club which admits " distinguished foreigners" as honorary members gratis, I breakfast there upon their wretched tea, with blue milk and yellow eggs, which, with all my love of country, do not endear themselves to me by the fact of their having been laid at least three months before, in France. Of coffee, the deluded people have as much idea as they have of conversation. Every day brings its engagements ; indeed, if I were 11* 126 to attempt to describe all that I see and hear, I should fill a volume per week. However, I have attained the highest point, for I have dined with the King — a circumstance which never would have happened to me in my own country, if I had lived to the age of Methu- selah. His Majesty conducted himself exactly as any English gentleman would — gave toasts in the national manner — and made speeches. He is just now ex- tremely popular with the country, on account of an address which he delivered extempore to the Bishops, expressive of his royal determination to uphold the rights of the Church. To show you, however, how small the official power of an English Monarch is, I need only tell you, that within eight-and-forty hours of the King's having expressed this solemn resolution, in the most solemn manner, his ministers issued what they call here a commission (and by which the whole govern- ment of this country is now carried on) to inquire into the state of the Church revenues, with a view to ap- propriate them to lay purposes ; and yesterday, Lord Grey appointed a Colonel Hay to some high official situation, who, in Parliament, not three months since, proposed the expulsion of the Bishops from Parlia- ment. 1 was at both Lady Mansfield's parties on two fol- lowing Thursdays, both extremely full and extremely hot, but extremely agreeable ; and our excellent friend De has taken me two or three times to Lady Salisbury's Sunday conversazione, where whist is ad- mitted — after midnight, 1 believe. At Almack's, I am in my element — all my most absurd- jumps and pirouettes, at which you and my poor aunt used to laugh, come into play here, as grace and activity ; and the poor dowdy girls who jump and bump themselves about the room till they shake their curls into bell-ropes, vow that, except Shandor or Fla- hault, or some other half-dozen, they never saw any- thing so perfect as my performances. Their Opera here is occasionally good, but it might be much better and please them no more, it might be ML 127 much worse and please them just as well ; they care nothing for the performance — not one in a hundred comprehends a syllable of the language ; and as for music, they are told by their masters, or some ex- tremely learned friend, or by — what they rely on most of a ll — the newspapers, that such a man is a magnifi- cent singer, such a woman a delightful dancer — that one composer is divine, and that another composer is odious ; and accordingly they wriggle and twist them- selves about in order to affect ecstacies, and turn up their eyes with delight, and their noses with contempt, under the direction of their leading journals. The theatres are below criticism. Shakspeare, who after Moliere, Racine, and a few other French writers, is perhaps the best of the play-makers, is never acted unless to introduce a concert or a corona- tion : the comic authors are equally neglected ; and the great theatres, as they call them, are devoted to ballets, masquerades, tumbling, and horsemanship. Nobody, however, goes — at least I know nobody that does. I went once and acted in masque, and had my pocket picked — to be sure I did not lose much ; but the idea of the thing was enough. Fish dinners, at two places — Grinitch and Blackhole, I think they are called — are the fashion just now. I was at one only three days since ; it is an excessively comical proceeding. A party of people get into a boat — or carriages if you like — and go away from their comfortable homes to an inn whos windows project over a huge bed of ill-smelling mud, and where little dirty bare-legged boys puddle and tumble for money — the sun glaring in from the water, and the breeze wafting into the rooms the combined flavour of pitch, tar, and the kitchen. Presently in march some eight or ten waiters with dishes covered with tin tops, all of which they deposit upon the table, and the company sit down ; the covers are removed ; then you see twenty different sorts of fish dressed twenty different ways, but, with the ex- ception of eels, (which, being the richest of fish, they 128 sometimes attempt to dress, in our sense of the word,) everything is fried and boiled, with melted butter, and potatoes as hard as bullets, and as white as tennis balls. Of all these dishes, men, women, and children indiscriminately eat, and having made themselves nearly sick by their exertions, the doors fly open again, and the waiters reappear with more dishes and tin covers, and you are served with hundreds of a small fry called " white betes" — over these the connoisseurs squeeze lemon — I am not sure whether they add sugar ; and having prepared the mess, swallow such quantities of it as would astound you ; and after this they proceed to eat great pieces of roast meat, and then fowls, and ducks, and quantities of peas and beans plain boiled, with more melted butter; and having washed all this down with port and claret, and a sort of ginger beer which they sell in England for champagne, they con- clude with a dessert, wind up the day by paying twenty or thirty pounds for the entertainment, and re- turn to town too late to fulfil any pleasant engagement they may have, and just in time to go to bed to sleep off the fumes of their feast, and escape, if they can, the head-ache which threatens them in the morning. To be sure I ought not to complain, for the dear lady who made up the party insisted upon my being her guest, and accordingly her exemplary husband paid my share of the bill, and was good enough to ride home on his own coach-box to make room for me in- side his carriage, as it turned out wet. One night last week I was at the House of Com- mons. I was introduced to the Speaker before he went in to take the chair, and was highly gratified by the reception which I met with. His manners are charming, and although dignified in an eminent degree, while fulfilling the duties of his important and arduous office of president, there is a kindness, and even play- fulness in his conversation in private life which I found most agreeable. We entered the house by the members' door, and were placed in seats exactly similar to those of the 129 members, under the gallery and in the body of the House, although technically speaking out of the House, inasmuch as we were without the bar. There was a very full attendance of members and the smell was verv oppressive. What struck me most forcibly was the'strange variety of hats which they wore, for they were almost all covered; in fact, I never saw an as- sembly of similar importance — if there be such a thing in Europe — so little calculated to inspire either awe or respect. On the ministerial bench I saw Lord Althorp, who looks like a farmer : Lord John Russell, who looks like a frog ; Lord Palmerston, who looks like a man- milliner ;~and Sir James Graham, who looks like an English gentleman — indeed he is the beau ideal of the island aristocrat. Mr. Edward Ellice is a good bluff-looking man, and was sitting in earnest conver- sation with a member whose name I think they told me was Baumgarten, although I could not find it in the list of members when I went home. Mr. Fergus- son was also there, who, they told me, had been im- prisoned in Newgate for a riot some years ago ; and Mr. Whittle Harvey, a particular friend of Lord Brougham, who has made a great complaint that he is not permitted to be a pleader in the courts here, be- ing, as he thinks, fully entitled to be called to the bar. I saw, too, Mr. Jeffrey, the writer of the M Edinburg Review," to whom I had been previously introduced; and Sir Edward Codrington, the admiral who did us so much good at Navarino, by crippling the Turks, who before that time were rather important allies of the English — he is a heavy man, but they say brave, and is called " Go it, Ned," — the reason why, I was un- able to learn. You may remember how often we have endeavour- ed to comprehend in its true sense the meaning of the words " the liberty of the press," we fancying it meant the power of the Government to press sailors into the King's service. I found out my mistake : it means the privileges of the newspapers. Not only 130 have the reporters of the papers seats assigned them in the gallery, but the publie journals, — or, «w they are called now, the " fourth estate," — have their in- dividual representatives in Parliament; — Mr. Walter represents the " Times ;" Mr. Cobbett represents his own " Register ;" Mr. Baines represents the " Leeds Mercury ;" Colonel Torrens represents the " Globe ;" Mr. Buckingham represents the " Parlia- mentary Review ;" Mr. Whittle Harvey the "Sun- day Times;" Mr. Spankie the " Morning Chronicle :" this is quite as it should be, — especially, as I am told, that, although the Ministers here govern the country, the newspapers govern them. On the opposite side of the House I saw Sir Ro- bert Peel, whom I knew ; Mr. Goulburn ; and Sir Henry Hardinge, whom I hate, not only for his par- ticipation in that ruinous battle of Waterloo, but for the manner in which he upholds everything English ; I cannot bear nationality of this sort. Cobbett was pointed out to me. He looks like a farmer, — but a very respectable one. And Hume I saw, — at whose calculations we used to have so many laughs when he was fancied by the mobility here, a much greater man than he passes for now ; — he is a remarkably ill-look- ing man, but married a great fortune. The history of his dissecting his brother is a true one. But he justi- fies his conduct by his solicitude to ascertain the com- plaint by which he lost him ; and says — *' I cannot say that I dissected him, for I didn't. I only joost oppenned him to see what he died o\" I was quite pleased to see Sir Francis Burdett look- ing so well. I met him afterwards, and he desired to be remembered to you ; he was walking with Sir Charles Wethdrell, which surprised me, knowing how their principles differ, but it seems the sharp edge of Sir Francis' politics is worn down; which annoys some of his violent supporters, who swear he shall not represent Westminster again. If he does not, Lord Grey will make him a peer ; he serves a great many people in that way when he takes it into his head. I heard Lord Palmerston speak upon the foreign 131 policy of England ; of all men I ever heard, I like him the best, at least upon that topic ; — there is something so liberal in his views, — so careless of what are called the interest of his country, — nothing selfish, — that I could have fancied one of our Deputies, or even Tal- leyrand himself, was discussing the subject. A. Mr. Thompson — Monsieur Tonson — spoke, too, about trade and commerce ; and also pleased me very much. You remember him in Paris, and the little on dits. They do not seem to mind those things here: but, be that as it may, Thompson is a treasure to us. I do not think that our excellent King — absolute as he has become, I still call him excellent — could have more efficient allies than Thompson and Palmerston ; — the latter they call cupul ; why I know not, except as his blindness is alluded to, for he is quite passe as to love- ability. I heard no eloquence, and 1 fancy myself a judge, for I am told, except young De N — , that nobody born in France writes with a better idiom than myself. The debate — if it could be called — consisted of merely questions and answers ; in which it seemed to me that the opposition had the best of it. The speaker wears a long powdered wig, like one of their Judges here, and a silk gown ; over his coat he had the red riband of the Bath, of which he is a Knight Grand Cross. I went two evenings after into the House of Lords, and there, to be sure, I saw such a scene as I never could have anticipated even in this shopkeeping coun- try, Lord Brougham, who is the great liberal, and represents the " Penny Magazine" in the Upper House, as Mr. Torrens does the " Globe" in the other, was skipping about, shrieking out contradictions and hooting out assertions in a tone better suited to what they call here, pottouses (I don't know if that is the way to spell the word) than such an august assembly. And then, — which I could not have believed if I had not seen it — a little bandy-legged fellow, in full dress, walked into the House and gave the Chancellor a glass of something, sufficiently strong to have killed a I •..:?>. jiu- . * _n ■1 133 I did no: s I have l a 1 I □ my plea- .. deterionU d by the I, so l sd v 80 wor- I did not, bow- D that a travel arc ble dissimulation which ■ hile the heart is bitterly af- [ 1 - aoedly >assador . .hat it would no. B tell you a joke of M. T .'.leyrand which | smile. ! opened to call upon the l 1 . : W _ it *t I ■ .- . >oking at two or three of the robes which, at certain periods of the ceremony o! his installation, h< car at Oxford. Talleyrand could not avoid h,~ . w 8o, said he to his gra **C - W . Duke, you are going to end just where 1 be_ The - de Dino was a good deal eat up about the disappointment; and it w not go- ing should be put upon the illness of one of her chil- 1 .'.ink I should have gone if they had ; for I am told if Talleyrand had been made a Doctor, r proposed that he and Lor V -itould dance a pas de deux in the thea on with this overstarched religious na- tion, to go on Sundays to the Zoological Garden-. 1 went there itS .;h no compunctious visitings; but it does seem to me — the whole world is full of contradictions — that a steady, sober set of people, who at this moment are covering the table of the House of Commons with petitions for the better observance of ^abbath, and to attain which end, three or four Bills are going through their Parliament, might, if they acted consistently, do something more suited to the r.an run to see an elephant wash, a rhinoceros canter, or little monkeys flirt. For us, luckily being what the vulgar folks here call Papists, we care little -uch matters. Our Sundav is no dav of gloom, 12 134 and having performed our devotions, we feel ourselves justifiably fulfilling the injunctions of our Maker, by- devoting to gaiety and pleasure the remainder of a day sanctified to Him, by the abstinence from all labour and care. But here, where I really believe many of the people go to evening church after having witness- ed the washing of the beasts, it is too ridiculous ! One of the pious frauds which these very sedate islanders commit upon themselves, is that of having what they call Fancy Fairs for the benefit of certain charitable institutions. The people, I must own, are really and truly charitable — but they have a fashion even in that — instead of giving their guineas or pounds for those purposes, the young ladies go about and buy bits of gauze and riband, and beads, and gum, and brushes, and gold paper, and artificial flowers ; and bits of riband and tinsel, and foil, and beads, and set themselves down to make little toys and trinkets, and card-cases, and purses, and watch-papers, and pen-wi- pers, and a variety of similar necessary articles which, at a certain time, they expose for sale in some public place, and the proceeds go to the uses of the favoured establishment. But lest these little innocent efforts, these pen-wipers, and purses, and card-cases, and watch-papers, should not fetch a sufficiently high price, the young ladies go themselves, and, undressing for the occasion in evening costume, stand behind the counters, firing off their most engaging looks and be- witching smiles in order to fascinate a crowd of strange men out of an extra shilling or two. And these are the shy misses who shudder at foreign assurance ! These fancy fairs are doubly bad ; for while they reduce the daughters of the aristocracy to the level of boutiquieres, they seriously injure the boutiquieres whose vocation they so charitably assume. If they bought the articles and sold them again, the absurdity would be all the mischief; but when these ingenious young creatures, or, as the lower orders call them, "ereechurs," club their talents to supersede the indus- try and destroy the profits of their inferiors, they do 135 more serious injury to the hard-working and industri- ous classes, than they do of good to the institutions for which they profess so great an interest. I must, however, my dear Henriette, conclude my letter. You shall hear from me shortly again. Tell my aunt what you think proper as to my proceedings ; and remember, if you write before I write again, it must be in English — that is our compact. Give my best love to G. and De S., and believe me, Ever yours affectionately. 136 PREPARATIONS FOR PLEASURE OR A PIC-MC When in matters of a thousand and a thousand times recurrence the result is, invariably, the same, it may fairly be taken for granted that chance has nothing to do in directing it ; it must be considered as belong- ing to the very nature of the matter or thing itself; and to expect a different issue would be to expect a manifest impossibility. With this truth for their guide, or rather, for their warning, how is it that spe- culators and projectors, who have witnessed the fail- ure of their schemes and experiments five hundred times repeated, should still persist in renewing them in the very teeth of experience, reason, and common sense ? How is it that Colonel Martingale, who has lost three fine fortunes at play, and ought to be in pos- session of, at least, a plentiful stock of experience in exchange for his money, can so far delude himself with a new scheme for breaking all the tables in Europe, as, even now, to be offering for sale his only remain- ing property — the gold repeater worn by his late fa- ther, and his mother's portrait by Sir Joshua ! for two hundred pounds, wherewith to carry his infallible scheme into execution ? How is it that our friend Ranter, whose thirty-four tragedies have been rejected by all the theatres in London, should, at this moment, be engaged in the composition of the thirty-fifth ? Or, most marvellous and astonishing of all ! how should Mr. 137 Claudius Bagshaw have conceived or imagined that his Pic-nic party, last year, to Twickenham meadows, should turn out a pleasant thing ? To give a Pic-nic party a fair chance of success, it must be almost impromptu : projected at twelve o'clock at night at the earliest, executed at twelve o'clock of the following day at the latest ; and even then the odds are fearfully against it. The climate of England is not remarkable for knowing its own mind; nor is the weather " so fixed in its resolve" but that a bright August moon, suspended in a clear sky, may be lady-usher to a morn of fog, sleet, and drizzle. Then again — but this being tender ground, we will only hint at the possibility of such a change — a lady of the intended party might quit the drawing-room at night in the sweetest humour imaginable, and make her appearance at breakfast in a less amiable mood, or, perhaps, " prefer taking breakfast in her own room," —from which notice husbands sometimes infer that such a change has taken place. Then, my gentleman may receive a post-letter bringing bad accounts of his partridges ; or he may read in the newspaper of the failure of his banker ; or — in short, twelve hours are a long time, and great and wondrous events may occur, all of them to the disadvantage of the party of pleasure. But such an affair, long prepared and carefully arranged ! — why it is of all the modes of human enjoyment the least satisfactory ; and the greater the care, and the longer the preparation, the more disagreeable is the result. The experiment has been tried by hundreds and by thousands on each of the fifteen or twenty days of an English summer, and, invariably, with the same ill success. The quantum of pleasure derived has al- ways been in an inverse ratio to the pains employed to procure it. Besides, Mr. Claudius Bagshaw knew, or he ought to have known, that (to use a phrase with which he was formerly familiar) it is unwise to draw at a long date upon a rickety firm ; and Madame Pleasure being in that predicament, the shorter you make your drafts the more likely is she to honour 12* 138 them : a fortiori, drafts at sight, without advice, are the best and surest. But the fact is, Mr. Claudius Bagshaw could have thought nothing at all about the matter, or it must have occurred to him that, as an English Pic-nic never has succeeded, one never could succeed ; at all events, he would not, in defiance of " the wisdom and experience of ages," have com- menced preparations on the third of July for a day's pleasure on the twenty-fourth of August! Mr. Claudius Bagshaw was, formerly, a silk-mercer in one of " those pleasant, still, sequestered lanes" branching northward out of Cheapside. At an early period of his blameless life — (we confess our obliga- tions to a tombstone for this interesting phrase.) — he married the daughter of a neighbouring warehouseman, a lady whose charms were, at the time, extolled by the loving bridegroom in regular climax : she possess- ed accomplishments, beauty, virtue, and — eighteen hundred pounds. After some years of laudable indus- try, Mr. Bagshaw found himself master of a tolerable fortune ; and, moreover, being blest by not being plagued with any pledges of mutual affection, he very wisely considered that he and his lady might pass the rest of their lives very idly and pleasantly together: so, selling off his silks, satins, and velvets, lease, fixtures, and good-will, and investing the produce of the sale along with his other moneys, in the government securi- ties, he retired into the country to live the life of a pri- vate gentleman. The term " country," if largely defined, would mean " a vast open tract of land remote from a populous city ;" in a more restricted sense it means, simply, " out of town." Mr. Bagshaw, being satis- fied with the latter definition, purchased an edifice, ycleped "Lake of Lausanne Lodge;" — a title, its right to which no one would have presumed to contest, so long as it stood alone in the centre of an extensive brick-field at the back of Euston-square, with a large muddy pond on one side, and Primrose Hill bounding the prospect on the other ; but which seems to be some- what inappropriate, now that it is built in on all sides by houses considerably higher than itself. However, .*Mfc. 139 we protest against holding Mr. Claudius Bagshaw ac- countable for this : in the present rage for building, the same accident might have occurred to him had he betaken himself to the highest hill in Cumberland. On the morning of the third of July, the Bagshaws ■were busy in their several after-breakfast occupations : he reading the Morning Post, (that being the paper he patronized as soon as he became a private gentleman,) the lady herborizing, botanizing, and ruralizing in the garden. This garden, it is true, falls somewhat short of the flourishing description given of it in the cata- logue of the auctioneer who knocked down the pro- perty to its present owner — "an extensive garden, well stocked with fruit-trees and flowering shrubs ;" yet it is actually forty-two feet long by eighteen feet wide, and contains two lilacs, one poplar, sundry pots of ge- raniums, pinks, and mignonette, two apple-trees, one ditto cherry, (which in compliment, no doubt, to their master and mistress, have never taken the liberty to be blest with offspring,) and a peach-tree which does annually contribute forty or fifty little hard knobs, not in the finest state for the table, but admirably adapted to the service of a minor piece of ordnance call- ed a pop-gun. We are thus particular in describing the rural capabilities of this retreat, in order to show that if, except on great and remarkable occasions, the Bagshaws languished not for country more countrified than their own, it was not that they were insensible to the beauties of nature, but because " Lake of Lau- sanne Lodge," with its domain, its lilacs, apple-trees, &c. presented quite as many as any rational being ought to covet. " How fortunate we shall be, dear," said Mr. Bag- shaw, who having finished the reading of his news- paper, had proceeded to the window to observe his lady's horticultural pursuits, — " how happy we shall be, if the weather should be as fine on our wedding- day as it is to-day." " True, love," replied Mrs. Bagshaw; "but this is only the third of July, and, as the anniversary of our 140 happy day is the twenty-fourth of August, the weather may change." This proposition Mr. Bagshaw did not attempt to deny. The Bagshaws were the happiest couple in the world. Being blest, as we have said before, with the nega- tive blessing of no offspring, the stream of their affec- tion was not diverted into little channels, but ebbed and flowed in one uninterrupted tide reciprocally from bo- som to bosom. They never disputed, they never quar- relled. Yes, they did sometimes, but then it was from a mutual