"^?<£*a&. /3 *\ ( i?: S KETCHES AND TALES; OR, THE LIFE OF A SOVEREIGN PrEecipui sunto, sitque illis aurea barba. Effigiemque meara fulvo complexus in at:ro, Cara * * * * *, qua potes, ora vides. Ovid. LONDON: PRINTED FOR WIG0TMAN AND CO. 18S8. ! A .. PREFACE. AS I consider myself responsible for the contents of the following pages, it is but fair that my readers should know how they came into my possession : — I have seldom been much encumbered with the gifts of fortune, and it has often happened that a fresh supply of cash has produced somewhat of the same effect upon my spirits as a visit from a long-absent friend. In the month of December, 1821, when my mind was gloomy as the atmosphere, and my head full of strange and thick- coming fancies, I was agreeably surprised by the accession of a sum of money that occasioned a total revolution in my ideas ; VOL. I. B m ? <^ 11 P KEF ACE. and I retired to rest with a lighter heart than usual. I had no sooner reclined my head upon my pillow than I fell into a reverie or dream, and I thought myself in the middle of a spacious hall in a build- ing which was called, " The Palace of Sovereigns" The walls of the apartment were divided into panels, and at the top of each panel was fixed a medal of gold, similar to the money now in circulation, to which was suspended a parchment-scroll, containing an account of the adventures of each individual piece of coin to which it was attached. Some of these documents were concise enough, and others again of larger dimensions. One indeed I observed as long as a Bill lately brought into Chan- cery, stated to contain one hundred and eighty thousand words ! I was pondering over this valuable but rather lengthy record, when I was suddenly awakened by a loud laugh, which proceed- PREFACE. Ill ed, as I supposed, from somebody near me. I started up and threw aside the curtains, but all was dark and silent as the grave ; and I thought it merely an abrupt termi- nation of my dream. I again sought the solace of repose ; and, falling into a doz- ing slumber, strove in vain to carry my imagination back to the fairy palace of my former thoughts : But I presently imagined, that I heard a muttering noise like some person indistinctly talking to himself. I bolted upright, — that is, as far as it was possible, whilst sitting in my bed ; and listening attentively, I threw open the bed-curtains as before : But all was again quiet, and nothing to be seen but a glimmering spark in the cinders, which I had left in the grate when I went to bed. For my constitution has been shattered by the hardships I have under- gone, and I sometimes indulge myself with a fire in my dormitory. I felt persuaded b2 IV PREFACE. that I had heard the sound of a voice in the apartment ; yet I was vexed with myself for entertaining this opinion, and I again composed myself and fell fast asleep. How long I remained in that state, I do not know ; but when I awoke, the room was in a glow of light. The fire had burned briskly up, and I saw a figure, habited in a splendid robe which " shone bright as burnished gold." He wore a crown of gold upon his head ; his features, mild and dignified, were resplen- dent as his dress. He sat with a pen in his hand ; and he had a bundle of papers before him, tied with a piece of red tape, which he seemed to be in the act of en- dorsing, as he raised his eyes and fixed them at intervals upon me. I gazed with awe and admiration, not unmixed with alarm : for I had left a sovereign on my writing* desk when I went to bed, as I PREFACE. V wanted change in the morning as soon as I should rise ; and this piece of money was not to be seen. Gradually recovering: from my trepidation and amazement, I exclaimed aloud, " By all that's holy, tell u me who and what thou art ?" when, in sounds celestial, sweet as an aerial harp, he thus addressed me, " Favoured mortal, " I am thy Sovereign ! This is my Life, — " and, employing an action which corre- sponded with the expression, he held up to view the papers tied with red tape, — " This is my Life, in which my Spirit is " embodied. Use thy diligence to send " me forth into the world in a creditable " shape ; and prosperity assuredly awaits " thee !" — I was about to reply, but in an instant the fire was extinguished, the bright vision had vanished from my sight, and left impenetrable darkness behind. Like the man in the play, " I could sleep no more." As soon as the dawning b3 VI PREFACE. of day appeared, I rose from my bed ; and on looking at my desk, I descried a packet of papers lying by the side of the sovereign which I had left there the pre- ceding evening. I rang the bell, and sent it to be changed for twenty silver shillings. Casting my eye on the papers, I observed they were endorsed with the following words, " Adventures of a Sovereign, for Peregrine Oakley." I sat down and eagerly perused the MS. which contained the matter now laid before the Public ; and I assure them, that I have not altered a single syllable of the original. Several of my friends, to whom I have related this incident, are inclined to be sceptical, and insist upon it, that it is nothing more than an idle dream : but I know better. The work itself bears internal evidence of its authenticity; as it may truly be said to contain golden opinions PREFACE. Vll for all sorts and conditions of people ; and I am fullv convinced, from the elicitation of certain circumstances of my own his- tory, that there can be no deception. I also declare upon my honour, that, at the time when this communication was made to me, and I received the first suggestion to publish " The Adventures of a Sove- reign/' I was as w^ide awake as ever I had been in my life ; and, if ever a superna- tural spirit has appeared to mortal view since the days of Hamlet, I am ready to make oath before the Lord Mayor of Lon- don, that I saw one, on the night in ques- tion. I further solemnlv declare, that this is as true as the story of Mrs. Veal's ghost, the apparition of Lord Lyttleton, or any other well-authenticated history of the like description. Since nobody can disprove it, I shall now take it for granted, that every one must regard it as Vlll PREFACE. a fact : And as these Memoirs were con- fidentially bequeathed to me, I consider myself in the light of a trustee. In pub- lishing them, I only conform to the will of the testator, and do — as I have always endeavoured to do — my duty. PEREGRINE OAKLEY. North Street, Brighton, January 1, 1821. CHAPTER I. THE SOVEREIGN'S INTRODUCTION. (Nummus Loquitur.) The Poet Cowper, and others of his Parnassian brethren, have long since decided, that it is unne- cessary to enquire of such an ignoramus as Jean Jacques Rousseau, If birds confabulate or no. Still less necessity exists for asking, if money can talk : Every man's individual experience will have furnished him with abundant and substantial proofs, that money has the power to move the tongue, if not its own, at least that of others ; and thus, by proxy, it often speaks unutterable things. One of Oliver Goldsmith's heroes has afforded to the world a still more exalted idea of the magic properties inherent in money, by an ingenious play upon the well- known rule in Lilly's Grammar, Es in prasenti 10 THE INTRODUCTION. perfection format : By transforming the first word into Ms, he thus significantly renders the passage into good colloquial English, " Ready money makes a perfect man P If this be true doctrine, (and we have the authority of Dr. Goldsmith for it,) the matter is completely elucidated, and the vast and manifold properties of ready cash, from a Golden Sovereign down to the lowest of its silver and copper subjects, are sufficiently developed. But, digressions apart, my readers have a right to be informed of the motives by which I am influenced in appearing before the Public. The first idea of my becoming an author was suggested by the following discourse, intended partly for me and partly for the rest of my companions, who were at that time much pleased with our situation, being enclosed in an elegant purse, and placed upon the toilette of a celebrated lady of fashion. While in that situation, we were greatly amused with the solemn self-sufficiency of a circular crea- ture similar to ourselves, but of rather a paler complexion, a more athletic frame, a graver coun- tenance, and somewhat advanced in years. He seemed to think himself superior to all the rest 11 THE INTRODUCTION. xx of us who were crowded together around him, and to hold us in that sort of contempt which is dis- played by a patrician of high blood when he con- templates a peer of recent creation. I felt piqued at this supercilious conduct, and had scarcely begun to enquire what right this stranger had to assume these airs of superiority, when, with the formality of a gentleman of the old school, he drew himself up with overweening pom- posity, and declared, " that he had no wish to tres- " pass against the laws of good-breeding, but we " must excuse his want of familiarity with those " whom he could but consider as beings of yester- " day, compared with himself who had so much " pure and unadulterated metal in his composition." For he assured us, " that he was formed of a " portion of the identical substance from which " was moulded his renowned ancestor of the name " of Chrysal, whose life had been handed down " to posterity under the title of The Adventures " of a Guinea, "He and his high-born brethren," he said, ** had experienced many vicissitudes ; and, though " highly esteemed wherever they went, at one time " such a revolution took place in their value, that 12 THE INTRODUCTION. " on account of their increased worth, they were all " banished from Great Britain, and supplanted by a " family which had absolutely risen from rags, and " bore no other impress of their noble descent and " current estimation, than what was stamped upon " the thin waste-paper form in which they appeared. " Whenever," said he, " any of our royal race " were seen abroad, we were seized upon with " savage ferocity, by those infidel dealers in barba- " rity, the Jews ; who, without any remorse of " conscience, inflicted upon us the most unfeeling " acts of cruelty and torture, by clipping pieces " out of our bodies, — sweating us down to mere " skeletons, — grinding our very noses off our " faces, — and burning us in furnaces or crucibles, " till we lost every trace of our original formation." He had himself been miraculously preserved, by the fostering care of a certain baronet, once cele- brated on the turf, who from pure intensity of affection, had gathered together an immense num- ber of these proscribed objects, and concealed them in coffers in his own house from the persecutions of the Israelites. But death having lately put a fatal pause to this gentleman's solicitude and exer- tions for their preservation, they were once more THE INTRODUCTION. 13 sent as wanderers abroad, and he now found, him- self a stranger and a pilgrim in the land of his birth. Some few ancient people hailed him, indeed, as an old acquaintance, and were still sensible of his high rank and real estimation in society ; " but,"" he was sorry to say, " he is not regarded with that " respect to which he thinks himself intrinsically " entitled. It is true, he takes precedence of the " recent individuals of the present day ; but he is " treated with a kind of indifference, which intimates " that he is worth only a shilling more than one of " these new-fangled gentry, who have started up in " all directions around him, assuming to themselves " the importance of Potentates, but whom he 66 neither could nor would consider as equal to agcod ' < old sterling Guinea. " However, Gentlemen," said he, " I have no " animosity towards you ; for you are not formed " of base materials like the late dynasty. And if i 6 you would but rouse yourselves to exertion, and " cherish a proper sense of your own condition, " you would blush at your want of ambition, and " strive to acquire that celebrity in the future 6i annals of fame which you cannot derive from the 14 THE INTRODUCTION. " acts of your ancestors : For you alone will stand " in the relation of ancestors to your future pro- " geny- Most of my colleagues smiled at this gentleman's harangue ; but some of his remarks entered deeply into my soul, and I was instantly fired with the thought of rivalling his famous relative by writing the particulars of my own life. My Memoir embraces events of as much interest and import- ance as those which have been detailed in " the Adventures of a Guinea;" they are likewise equally conducive to morality, and certainly more conso- nant with delicacy. The aim of my golden publication is, to blend instruction with amusement : and, from the many and diversified companies into which I have been ushered since my creation, to select fit examples for virtuous imitation, and to apply the lash of ridi- cule and reproof to those flagrant acts of vice and folly which I may deem worthy of public repre- hension. Should any one feel himself aggrieved, let him refer to the motto in the title-page, and recollect, that, by being angry, he claims the satire for himself. THE INTRODUCTION. 15 It will be seen that I have passed through a variety of scenes, have become acquainted with many curious facts, and met with a number of extraordinary characters in every gradation of soci- ety, from the beggar to the Prince. But in no instance have I wantonly dragged forth known individuals to public derision ; for, even in the palace, though I had an opportunity of noticing the proceedings of those who thought themselves unobserved, I have taken no undue advantage of my situation. My scenes have not been laid in flowery meads and rugged mountains, but in the bustle of the world and in the stir of every-day life. No written description can ever give a correct idea of a landscape ; but characters may be defined so as to start up before the mind as vivid as in life itself. My portraits of individuals are not merely an exhibition of names or a fac-simile of features, but sketches from society, designed to form part of an extended picture of human nature, that may be regarded with interest by posterity, and may be rendered useful to the present generation of mortals. This is not an age when " modesty of speech, " in relation to one's real worth, will ensure an author a favourable reception from the world : 16 THE INTRODUCTION. I therefore entreat the Public to bear in mind who and what I am ; that I am above all undue bias, for I have no favours to ask ; that I write freely and independently, because I have nobody to fear; that my intentions are honourable, and worthy of approbation ; and I trust, that the whole tenour of my narrative will be found conformable to the nature and the dignity of A SOVEREIGN. CHAPTER II. METALLIC METAPHYSICS THE BIRTH OF A SOVE- REIGN HIS FIRST ADVENTURES, &C. The operations of nature are in many cases inscrutable to human comprehension ; and it has never been decided, by what means mind and material substance are connected together ; or, as philosophers will have it, " how the ethereal essence can insinuate itself into inanimate matter." This is easy of comprehension to those who have at any time gazed on the curious emblematical frontispiece to that book of good omen, ls The Golden Remains of the Ever-memorable Mr. John Hales, of Eton College" which was edited by the famous Bishop Pearson, and in which the author, in reference to his fellow-ministers, com- municates the subjoined information : " Necessity u requires a multitude of speakers ; a multitude " of writers, not so. G. Agricola, writing De 18 METALLIC METAPHYSICS. " Animantibus Subterraneis, reports of a certain " kind of spirits that converse in Minerals, and " much infest those that work in them ; and the " manner of them, when they come, is, to seem to " busy themselves according to all the custom of " workmen : They will dig, and cleanse, and " melt, and sever metals ; yet, when they are gone, " the workmen do not find that there is any thing " done,' 1 &c. This is overwhelming evidence in favour of " the converse 1 "' and the " busy" acts of subterranean spirits among mineral ores ; and if allusions be thus made by learned divines to these rare qualities in metals when incrusted with dross and in an unpurified condition, why should they be denied to them when freed from earthy defile- ments, and possessing an agreeable " image" and a speaking " superscription ?" The latter is the state in which I now appear before mankind ; and, to a fertile imagination, it will not be difficult to invent a number of probable modes, in which cer- tain spiritual beings are ordained to accompany and watch over the motions of every definite form. I was destined to be the attendant spirit of a spe- cific piece of gold, with which I became embodied, and was thus rendered liable to all the pains and THE SOVEREIGN'S BIRTH. 19 penalties of a terrestrial creature. At the same time, that portion of divine intellectuality of which every spirit partakes, enabled me to dive into the hearts of those who became possessed of my met- allic substance; with which I am so strictly identified, that it is not easy to separate my spiritual attributes from the corporeal frame in which they are com- pacted : And, in speaking of events, I shall probably often confound the one with the other. By a violent concussion of the elements, accom- panied with most excruciating torture to my body, occasioned (as I then supposed) by some infernal machine, I first felt myself rounded into existence in the year 1819- I am one of a very numerous family of brethren ; all of us so similar in appear- ance that we are not easily distinguished one from another. Indeed, the difficulty is so great that I have often been doubtful of my own identity, and have been sometimes obliged to say to my brother beside me, Is it really you or I ? In a refined state of existence, I was brought into this upper world, in the neighbourhood of Tower-hill, in a splendid palace fit for the birth of a Sovereign, and very near that unseemly pile of buildings encircled with a moat, in which monarchs £0 HIS IlELATIVES. have met with an untimely fate, and a residence in which has often been a preparatory step to the scaffold for the most virtuous as well as the most vicious of mankind. My features are impressed with nobleness and native dignity, and I bear the stamp of royalty on every lineament of my face. When I first became conscious of my own exist- ence, and saw the hundreds of thousands of objects like myself glittering around me, I marvelled for what purpose we were designed. For it is only from experience that I have since learned the influ- ence which we have upon the actions and the desti- nies of mankind, and that many of us were doomed to wander to the most distant quarters of the habi- table globe, whilst others were to circulate through thousands of different channels at home, and some to remain incarcerated in dungeons for the greater part of a monotonous existence. One of the earliest impressions on my memory is the circumstance of being patted on the head, by the fingers of an odd kind of figure with a feather stuck over his ear, who, after shovelling us about with unfeeling indifference, put me with nine hun- dred and ninety nine more of my new-born breth- ren into what appeared a horrible chasm, where HIS IMPRISONMENT. 21 he stowed us so closely, and tied up the orifice of this frightful inclosure so tightly, that I thought my ethereal essence would have been expelled. With many other masses of the same size and description, we were hurled into a rude vehicle on wheels, with such an unmercifnl jerk as made us cry aloud, or jingle, through the pain which we endured. It was then I learned, for the first time, that seemino; evil mav be attended with real good : For had we not been packed so closely together, some of us must have been destroyed or mutilated in our journey to a building surrounded by enormous stone-wails in the manner of a prison, where we were again most wantonly thrown about by a num- ber of uncouth beings, whom I soon after discovered to be men. We found ourselves in a short time, bag after bag, cast into a gulph of almost palpable darkness, and I felt all the horrors of being buried alive; for when the massive iron door, grating on its hinges, was closed upon our cemetery, with a crash as loud as thunder, my functions were para- lysed and I was lost in a trance. How long I remained in this state of insensibility, I know not ; but I was roused into a feeling of ani- 22 HIS ENLARGEMENT. mation, by the turning of the key in the lock of our dungeon. The mass in which I had been enclosed was extracted from the cell ; and I found myself restored to the light of day, with some hundreds more of my fellow-prisoners, by being turned out of our canvass confinement, upon a board as hard as iron, and unceremoniously rattled up together and rudely knocked one against the other, as if w r e had been so many worthless stocks or stones ; when, immediately after receiving the same mys- terious touch of the fingers we had before experi- enced, we were handed over to Mr. Scrip, my first master. Only those who have known the horrors of im- prisonment, can conceive the rapture which I felt on having thus regained comparative liberty. From that moment I experienced a new expansion of my faculties ; and, through an intuition inherent in spiritual beings, I became intimately acquainted with the ways of man, and with all the intricate windings of the human heart : I was qualified to distinguish truth from falsehood, wisdom from folly, and virtue from vice ; and no specious gloss of dissimulation could deceive me. For, what may appear mysterious to inferior natures, I could trace RESTRAINED CAPABILITIES. 23 the history, actions and opinions of my owners, from the first hour of their earthly career to the period when I came into their possession. In my metallic form I am not capable of self-motion or of speech ; but I am susceptible of all the passions of humanity, and particularly those of friendship and love. Often have I wished to raise my warning voice, when my owner was about to become a prey to the villainous, or to part from me in order to gratify his folly or his vicious inclinations. I have been in the possession of those whose depravity has been as black as the unfathomable gulph of Stygian darkness ; and I have rejoiced at my escape from such monsters in the human shape. I have been with others whose virtues were godlike emanations of Divine Benevolence, and an honour to the human race. And I have resided with those who have had such a mixture of good and evil in their nature, that it was difficult to separate their virtues from their faults ; and while men involuntarily esteemed the former, they were almost tempted to admire the latter. I have groaned in spirit, that I was not able, at some critical periods of their existence, to personate a vocal monitor to such frail 24? a sovereign's worth. but amiable beings, and to save them from the misery of having acted in a culpable or improper manner. My friendship would have been disinter- ested, as the communion of angels with their fellow-spirits of the skies. And if it be true, as has been asserted, that a shell-fish can feel the sen- sation of love, what must be the ethereal delicacy of that divine flame existing in my spiritual essence of pure and refined gold ? I write thus, to induce you, my gentle reader, to imagine, that every piece of money which comes into your possession, how diminutive soever it may be in size or base in its composition, is, like me, the habitation of a spirit endued with intuition and acquainted with every action of your life. — Such a flight of the imagination will not prove injurious ; it may cause you, before you part with any coin, to ponder well its value, and to meditate on the worthy purposes to which it may be applied ; that, when it passes into other hands, you may exultingly affirm, " I have not used it either viciously or " unwisely !" Aureus will then not have written in vain. CHAPTER III. TIMOTHY SCRIP, THE QUONDAM HAIR-DRESSER, NOW A MONEY-LEXDER AND STOCK-EROKEE. The individual whom I first recognised as my master, was Mr. Timothy Scrip, whose eye glis- tened with ecstacy when he received me with a number of my brethren, as part of the half-yearly dividend which stood in his name in the three per cents. He had sums, in other names, in most of the monied securities of the State ; the dividends of which he had granted himself powers of attor- ney to receive, that the extent of his funded property might not be known when the income- tax was first imposed ; and he had allowed those names to remain unaltered to the present time. Should he die suddenly, these sums will be added to the unclaimed dividends, and be lest to his legal heirs. vol. i. c 26 RISE AND PROGRESS I shall say nothing of his birth, parentage, or education ; he can read and write, and is sufficiently acquainted with figures for the common purposes of calculation. His appearance is precise ; and his apparel particularly neat. He is always equipt in a dark brown coat, waistcoat and breeches of the same colour, and cut after the fashion of some thirty years ago. Upon his head he wears, what Rowland Hill has classically denominated from the pulpit, " a snug jobation-looking wig," which is infinitely more becoming than the thin straggling grey hairs injudiciously retained by the waning beaus of this degenerate age. He has a nose bent somewhat in the shape of a parrofs beak, and his eye is as keen as a hawk's. About five feet three inches in height, he makes up for his defective stature by his assumed importance. His original occupation was that of a tonsor, which he exercised to much profit in a narrow dirty alley, in the neighbourhood of Tottenham-court Road ; his shop was frequented by grooms and coachmen from an adjoining mews, and he com- menced his speculations in money-matters by keeping what was termed a Little-Go. At that period the lottery was some weeks in being drawn. OF TIMOTHY SCRIP. 27 and thousands of the poorer and middling classes of society were ruined, by effecting what generally proved to be sham insurances, in the intervals of drawing- the numbers out of the wheel. None except those who then resided in London, can form an idea of the evils arising from this abominable system. Hope buoyed up the spirits of the deluded victims day after day, till every shilling vanished, and left the poor, cheated, unfortunate creatures in the most abject state of misery and distraction. The practice was altogether illegal ; yet offices for insurance were privately opened in every quarter of the metropolis, and hundreds of persons, beside Mr. Scrip, were enriched by the credulity of their infatuated dupes. From this Little-Go, he proceeded to larger con- cerns, and lent money at exorbitant interest to his liveried customers, to enable them to speculate still more deeply in his miniature lottery- wheel. By these transactions amongst the parti-cohured bre- tkren,he became acquainted with the wants of their masters, and contrived to inform them where their necessities could be supplied. These are some of the methods by which he has at length become a money-lender upon an extensive scale, and a spe- culator in the funds to an enormous amount. There 28 HIS PENURIOUS HABITS is not a noble 3 oung spendthrift, or a gentleman of landed property in want of pecuniary assistance, within the purlieus of St. James's, who does not know where Mr. Scrip is to be found ; and the ruin of many an unfortunate adventurer at the gaming-table has been accelerated by the facility with which he could be supplied with means for his own destruction. Curses deep and loud have escaped from the lips both of rustics and esquires, and have been heaped upon the head of Timothy Scrip, when the timber has been felled upon the paternal estate, or the estate sold to make good his usurious but well-secured claims and demands. My master had chambers in Essex Court, in the Temple, not many doors from the Barber's Shop : and I have often seen him standing at the window, and looking con amove at the counsellors' 1 wigs. Every j morning, before he goes to the Stock Exchange, he looks into a Coffee-house in Fleet- street, where he regularly indulges himself with a cup of coffee, as a second breakfast, whilst he looks over the newspapers. His first breakfast is uniformly a penny-roll and a pennyworth of milk, which he consumes before he quits his humble domicile. He dines at an Ordinary or Chop-house AND PLACES OF RESORT. 29 in the city, for less than half-a-crown, often after having gained some thousands of pounds within a few hours. Worth more than half a million of money, he boasts of this frugal mode of living, as an ingenious method of evading the taxes, and exemplifies most conspicuously the small share which some of these great stock-holders contribute towards the exigencies of the State. I was no sooner deposited in Mr. Scrip's pocket than we passed into a spacious Rotunda, where the noise proceeding from a thousand voices was only to be silenced by a watchman's rattle, which a man, who was mounted on a platform that resembled an ancient rostrum, occasionally exhibited, like a mountebank at a fair, for the amusement of the surrounding crowd. In passing through this tur- bulent multitude, my master was saluted with that sort of deference which is always paid to the repu- tation of great wealth ; but, having no business then to transact, he passed on, and turning up the street which leads to the Royal Exchange, he entered a small shop kept by a little old woman almost bent double by age, of whom he always purchased his Anderson's Scots'" Pills. Having begged of her a pinch of snuff, he entrusted his c2 30 STOCK EXCHANGE. hat, which was a good one, into her care and received in exchange one that was considerably the worse for wear. Every day, before he enters upon business, he thus cautiously accoutres himself; for when he first became a member of the house in Capel-court, his notions of economy were dread- fully deranged by the unaccountable antipathy which the young stock-brokers have to " a new bit of beaver."" He took me over to the Stock Exchange, where the noise was worse, if possible, than it had been at the Rotunda in the Bank. The money transac- tions of that day were very trifling, or, in the lan- guage of the profession, " little was done," though I heard people talking about twenty thousand and fifty thousand Pounds with as much indifference as if they were but fifty pence. When the noise had in some degree subsided, we left the place ; and, calling upon Mrs. Pigmy at the pill- shop, my master again exchanged his beaver, took another pinch out of her capacious reservoir of Rappee, and then seated himself on the bench under the piazza of the Royal Exchange. In this great mart of the civilized world, where our princely merchants daily congregate to arrange the commerce of all nations, I indulged in a PUBLIC BUILDINGS. 31 train of reflections, which, now that my thoughts are matured by experience and observation, I shall venture to reveal in a more complete form, than when they arose within me as the first and most successful of my sallies of thought among mortals. In England the morals and manners of society have undoubtedly been im- proved within the last century ; but this improve- ment is not so perceptible in the erection of great public buildings, as in some other particulars. The present race of men seem to do every thing for immediate gratification, and nothing for the bene- fit of after-times. Such a course is calculated upon the Irishman's principle, " that as posterity had done nothing for him, he did not see why he ought to do any thing for posterity ." This selfish policy is conspicuous in every modern structure, which seems designed to last no longer than the duration of the lease of the ground on which it stands. Waterloo Bridge is a noble exception, and will be the admiration of future ages when all its cotemporary and flimsy specimens of bad taste are crumbled into dust. I must however notice with great satisfaction the magnificent improvements now in progress in Regent Street, and the neigh- 6% THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. bourhood of Charing-cross ; for they are really worthy of the monarch under whose auspices they have been projected. Clumsy as the architecture of the Royal Ex- change appears to the spectator, the whole struc- ture is well suited for the purpose to which it is devoted ; and there is a gloomy grandeur in the piazza, that has an imposing effect. When we consider, that it was originally intended, by a mer- chant, for the use and benefit of his fellow-citizens, we cannot but extol his liberality, and exclaim,— " Where are the Greshams of the present day ?— * Where is there a single public building erected ■* by private munificence ?" On the walls around the interior of the piazza, placards and advertisements of all descriptions are exhibited in every variety of form, to catch the gazer's eye. According to the professions which they severally contain, all the wants and wishes of mankind can be supplied, all the disorders incident to humanity can be cured, all the evils prevalent in society can be prevented. It is your own fault, if you be burned in your bed ; for here is the Fire- escape. It is the shipwrecked seaman's fault, if he be drowned ; for there is the Life-preserver, or, DEPLORABLE INSANITY. 33 what is much more efficacious in many a mariner's opinion, the precious child's caul, " which may be had of Mrs. Priggins of Rotherhithe, for the moderate price of ten guineas !" Here is a face- tious Nota Bene from Van Butchel the younger, and there a modest notification from the Knight of the Medical Board. But amongst all these, there is ik no medicine to a mind diseased." 1 "' Look at the only female figure in the place, sitting on the bench by the side of my master. She is dressed in deep mourning with a reticule on her finger. Her cheeks and even her lips are painted ; and she fan- cies herself a lady of wealth and high degree. Some years ago she had an only brother, a clerk in the Bank of England, who was the chief sup- port of herself and their widowed mother : His premature death reduced them to poverty, and deranged the intellects of his sister. She has con- tinued to appear in black ever since, and cannot forego the professional idea that he?- brother left her a handsome fortune ', the illusive receipt of which is with her the occupation of every day. For this purpose she is assiduous in her visits to the Bank : The clerks, who are acquainted with her misfor- tunes, humanely fall in with her humour ; and she c3 34s AN EXTRAORDINARY INDULGENCE. is chiefly supported by their eleemosynary contri- butions, which she benignantly considers as part of a dividend that is her due in behalf of her deceased relative. She is now looking at a dirty Goldsmith" 1 s Almanack, to see if it be one of the numerous red-letter days, that prevent her, as she says, from transacting business at the Bank. With these she is in general as well acquainted, as any clerk in the establishment. She remarked, while restoring the ruddy calendar to its old station in her pocket, " that she could do no business at the " Bank to-day ;" and, with a gracious courtesy to all around, she twisted her reticule on her finger, and departed. I could not avoid ejaculating, " Alas ! poor human nature !" Mr. Scrip quickly arose from his seat, and pro- ceeded in a leisurely manner till we came opposite the door of a celebrated confectioner in Cornhill, where his olfactory nerves were saluted with such delicious effluvia, from the good things which were preparing within, that he could not withstand the temptation to walk into the shop. Being invited upstairs, he boldly called for a basin of turtle-soup ; when those who were in the room and knew him, lifted up their eyes in astonishment at this unwonted AND SUCCEEDING PARSIMONY. 35 act of extravagance, though some of them shrewdly suspected that it would serve for " his dinner, his supper, and all." Their suspicions were just ; for after he had finished this luxurious repast, with evi- dent reluctance he drew me from his pocket, parted from me with that grief which is generally mani- fested on losing an old friend, turned over and over again the pieces of silver which he received in exchange, hastened home to his miserably-furnished apartments, and soon retired to his bed to save the unnecessary expence of candles. This man, who is well known to every money-dealer in London, has a heart steeled against .all the better feelings of humanity ; he is so terrified at the idea of death as to be afraid to make a will ; and, in the present state of affairs, his heaps of sordid ore, which have been principally extorted from the miseries of mankind, will descend to distant relatives, who, unconscious of his very existence, are at present employed in digging into the bowels of the earth for a metal more useful than gold. They are honest labourers in the Cornish mines, CHAPTER IV. THE FRENCH PLANTER IN LONDON — HIS NOTIONS OF ENGLISH FREEDOM, AND OF THE DIVER- SIFIED PURSUITS OF THE NATIVES, &C. During the short time that I remained in the custody of the attendant in the soup-room, I over- heard the following colloquy between two swarthy- looking gentlemen, who had called for the purposes of refreshment. " Well, Monsieur Noyaux," said one of them, " I think you must acknowledge, " that this is as good as any of Monsieur Verigo's " potage." " Bon, bon T" was the reply of the other, who would not allow himself time to say more, till the soup had vanished from his sight ; when he thus began : " It is not de first time I " taste it. — When I came from West Indies to this " country, I wish to see de novelty, de curiosity " of de place. I learned de English language at " Martinique — speak, as you hear, like de natif.— PASTltY COOKS. 37 " In de first morning I go to de grand spectacle « militaire : evolutions exact — General, I suppose, " give de word of command. I ask, Who is dat " Officier?— < Monsieur Poplar,' they say. " Ver well ! Impatient to see more — peep in at « de libraire — take up a pamphlet on political eco- " nomy — read one, two, tree page. — Ah, tres " Men ! excellent !— Who is de author ? They " say, 'Monsieur Poplar.' « Ver well ! I stroll into de street — Ludgate- " hill— Cheapside— move on to de Poultry— then « to Cornhill— Ma foi ! I stand still— hold my " breath— sniff, sniff— de smell delicieuse ! Stop " at dis place— come in— taste de beer, excellent ! u —try de puff, superlatif ! Ah, le carosse I de « chariot drive furiously up to de door ! Un gen- " tilhomme step out — go up de stair. When I « say, Who is dat ? They tell me, < Monsieur " Poplar.' " Ver well. I take de glass limonade — pay for " my puff. — Pray, who is de master of dis shop ? " They say, < Monsieur Poplar.' « Ver well ! Lounge about some time — Look " in at de Guilt-hall— Von man in de scarlet robe 88 VISIT TO GUILDHALL. " and gold chain — give good advice to tree bad " men that stand before him. Say I, How you " call that Justice on de bench ? < An Alderman.'' " Ah ! but how you call his name ? They say, " c Monsieur Poplar.'* " Ver well ! I go to my dinnere — after, I go " to L'Assemblee Nationale, de House of Com- (i mon. — Orator speaking much to de purpose all " about avantage of de debt national. Ask again, " Who is that member on his leg ? They say, " \ Monsieur Poplar. 1 " Ver well ! I stop von, two half-hour — I go ^ away — drop in at de Teatre— too late for de " Comedie — enquire, What is de Farce ? The " Adopted Child. Ah ! but who is its father ? — " Who is de writer ? They tell me, « Monsieur *' Poplar. 1 " O mon Dieu ! I could stand it no longer. — <• Here, and there, and every where — from morn- *• ing till night — nothing but Monsieur Poplar ! " General— Economy — Soup — Shariot— Alderman i- — Justice — Member of Parliament — and Father " of the Adopted Child ! Ha, ha 5 ha ! — It was too Sir ; they are gone several other ways.'' " I observed him busily engaged in pinning a piece of paper to the Bill of Fare, which he had in his hand; and, knowing how desirable it was for us to use despatch, I began to lose all patience, and desired him to cease his doggerel and tell us his meaning in plain prose. 1 I'll tell you, Sir, as fast as I arn able ; ' The last horses we had in the stable, 4 Are in a gallop ' " Again, Sirrah ! I exclaimed in a rage. " « I beg pardon, Sir. It is a trick which I have ' got. The Gods have made me poetical, and I 'can't help it. But the party who just left the ' house had the last pair of horses we had at home; i and, as no others can return for some hours 3 ' You had better stay, Sir, where you are, 1 And take a look at the Bill of Fare.' And he presented it to me with such a singular expression of countenance, something between a 144 MR. COVENTRY*^ smile and a grin, that I was half tempted to a laugh myself. " Mr. Morbid was in agonies at the thought of our longer detention in such an exposed situation. But it is always my maxim, to make the best of a bad bargain ; I thought therefore we might as well see what was to be had for dinner, and, on looking over the usual articles of roast Jowl, veal cutlets, stewed pigeons, &?c., I descried the paper at the bottom. Hey-day ! what have we got here ? said I, when the waiter immediately replied, ' If you look, Sir, I think you'll find 4 Food for the body, and the mind.' And I read, in a cramp sort of hand, in large let- ters displayed in the form of a title-page, To be published by Subscription, Price Three Shillings and Sixpence, THE FIERY FURNACE, OR, THE LOVES OF PETRINO AND AMANDA, A ROMANTIC POEM, IN SIX CANTOS. " And do you call this the Bill of Fare ? ADVENTURES. 145 44 < Yes, Sir, delicious fare,— the feast of reason * and the flow of soul f 44 Pray, who are Petrhio and Amanda f " 4 My name, Sir, is Peter ; and though Peter 4 will rhyme with metre, it is still rather unpoetical, 4 and I put ino at the end of it, to render it more 4 romantic/ " And Amanda ? 44 4 Amanda, Sir, is the poetical name of Amy, 4 — Amy Doughy, the baker's daughter, of our 4 town. — The Fiery Furnace is the oven : and the « story is the literal love of Miss Doughy and of 4 your humble servant, Peter Parody, positively 4 true, tender, and distressing ! Allow me to put 4 down your name, Sir, — only three and sixpence P " I said, I had a respect for the humblest efforts of the Muses, however unfortunately applied ; and I gave him a guinea for six copies. " ' Thank you, Sir,' said he ; 4 I knew you had 4 poetical propensities the moment I saw your face : 4 But I must crave your name and address, that I 4 may send you the book when published ; for I 4 write for fame as well as money. * O grant me honest fame, or grant me none ! ' For I am VOL. I. II 146 MR. COVENTRY*^ ADVENTURES. 4 Coming ! coming, Ma'am P — At this moment the bar-bell rang still more violently, and Peter the Poet made his exit with a fine theatrical flourish. 11 At a brief pause which necessarily ensued in this part, Mr. Easy was beginning to shew some fid- getty symptoms, when Mr. Coventry prevented any further display by instantly proceeding with the remainder of his story. CHAPTER XVII. mr. Coventry's adventures — and those of another party, &c. " I turned to Morbid with a wish to discover the cause of the agitation which he had manifested at the sight of the strangers, who left the inn in a chaise just as we drove up. On this subject I was the more curious, because I was myself much fasci- nated with the charms of the young lady, of whom I had caught a slight glimpse as the chaise rolled rapidly past. a After expressing my desire to learn something of this celestial creature, I said, I never should forget The winning sweetness of her smile ; when Morbid replied, in heart-rending accents of agony, ' Oh, Mr. Coventry ! that face has conjured 6 up in my mind a thousand conflicting images ! i Oh, Adelaide, Adelaide ! How madly did I love ! h2 148 MR. COVENTRY S * And how, like a madman, did I think that love 4 returned, till one detested being stepped between 'my bliss and me! Wretch! wretch! But let * that pass ! — It distracts me to reflect : — It drove ' me to desperation. — I had resolved to make all ' the recompence in my power for an act which 6 now weighs down my very soul. I wrote fre- ' quently to England for intelligence, but could ' gain none ; and when I recently came over for the ' purpose of personal enquiry, I was suspected of c undefinable treason, and thrown into the prison 8 where you found me.' " Who was it that you sought ? demanded I. " 6 Eustace de Couvert. For through him only 4 I can now make restitution. But, Mr. Coventry, 6 you must excuse me from continuing the subject ; 6 for my own reflections are as horrible as the men- « tal tortures of a condemned criminal V and smit- ing his forehead violently with his hand, he rushed out of the room. " I pondered deeply upon what he had said ; for Eustace was a name very common among my ancestors; and then the seal, which I had seen in the prison, and which bore the crest of the Coven- try s, was a co-incidence so unaccountable as induced ADVENTURES. 149 me to think that Morbid was, some how or other, implicated in my parent's mysterious tale. I like- wise knew that my father had been wounded, some years before, when he was abroad ; but I could never learn the particulars. " I had not long ruminated upon the subject, before I heard the quick steps of the bulky land- lady move along the passage, from which she called out more loudly than ever for Peter. Suspecting some sudden cause of her ladyship's perturbation, I indulged my native curiosity by enquiring, What's the matter, Mrs. Jingle? What's the matter? " * Murder and ruination is the matter ! The * chaise will be thrown out, and the ladies broken ' all to pieces !' " What ladies ? What chaise? I asked. " 6 The door that was at the chaise when you * came up, is — ' " I heard no more of the incoherent sayings of the good woman, whose concern for her chaise seemed to be uppermost in her thoughts, but has- tened to the assistance of the distressed, with all the speed I could muster. Having received no directions, about the place where I should find them, I ran instinctively along the line of road 150 mr. Coventry's which I had so recently traversed, till, at a consid- erable distance I discovered the interesting groupe of sufferers. "It appears that the post-horses had been fright- ened by the breaking-down of a waggon at the moment they were passing it. The unexpected shock had unnerved the driver, who was thrown from his seat by the sudden motion of the carriage, when the terrified animals, feeling themselves under no control, immediately turned out of the main road into another, which, after winding circuitously past a farm-house and near the mouth of a chalk- pit of considerable depth, terminated in an almost indiscernible path on a wide and dreary common. " When my eager eye caught the first sight of the chaise, the horses were galloping at full speed along the narrow green lane, and I perceived at -once, that, by crossing the angle of a large field, I should meet them in a turn of the bye-road, a short distance beyond the farm-yard. As the vehi- cle was violently whirled past the house, a labourer, who had been at work in the barn, ran into the lane and, by a menacing twist of his flail, endea- voured to arrest the further progress of the impe- tuous steeds. He succeeded for an instant in ADVENTURES. 151 impeding their career ; they paused, as if disputing the authority of the staff which stopped their course, when one of the ladies opened the door of the chaise, jumped out and was safely deposited in nearly an inverted position in the midst of a family of little grunters and the sow their mother, which received their unexpected visitor with loud exclam- ations of terror and surprise. The brief yet op- portune pause, which the countryman's exertions had produced, enabled me to come into the lane about a hundred yards in advance of this rather ludicrous scene ; at which I had scarcely leisure to smile, before the maddened coursers, unawed by the threatening flail, and suddenly recollecting the previous cause of their terror, rushed impetuously past all obstacles. Planting myself by the side of the road, I was just in time enough to seize part of the reins at the hazard of my neck ; and after being dragged a considerable distance, I succeeded in guiding the heads of both the mettlesome creatures into a hedge of thorns, which they did not seem to relish. It was a fortunate circumstance that they were pulled up on that side of the lane; for had they proceeded only a few yards further on the other side, where the road made a second sweep, 152 mr. Coventry's they would have been upon the very brink of destruction, and in one moment horses, chaise and travellers must have been precipitated to the bottom of the chalk -pit, and dashed to pieces. " Notwithstanding the repugnance which all sen- sitive creatures evince against thorns and briars, I persisted in holding the terrified animals in their prickly position, till the farmer and a posse of his servants came up and relieved Mr. and Miss De Valmont, (for such were the names of these two amiable persons,) from their perilous situation. " As the horses were compelled quietly to retro- grade in the direction of the Red Lion, which was not far distant, I persuaded the gentleman to pro- ceed to the same destination, rather than accept the invitation to the farm-house; and I offered my assistance, for he appeared much agitated and exhausted. " ' My dear Sir, 1 he said, as he grasped my hand, * this shattered frame of mine is soon put ' out of order : the alarm for my daughter has * unstrung my feeble nerves. I know not how to 4 express our sense of the obligation we owe to you. ' For had not you exerted great intrepidity, we * should not now have been alive to acknowledge ADVENTURES. 153 ' with gratitude your strenuous and disinterested ' efforts. 1 " While her father was speaking, the colour in the cheeks of the young lady exhibited a beautiful alternation of the rose and the lilly, but it at length settled into an ashy paleness. With her hand pressed on her forehead, and her eyes fixed on the ground, she exclaimed with a shudder, ' Oh that frightful precipice V Then, as if instantly recollecting herself, she fell on her knees, and with uplifted hands, in the fervency of sincere devotion, ejaculated, ' Great God of mercy, the Author of 4 our being and Preserver of our lives, accept my ' heart-felt thanks for this signal interposition of 6 thy providence, in behalf of my dear father, and ' myself V I had never before seen a woman in such an engaging and lovely posture ; and my admiration was increased when she arose and threw her snowy arms round the neck of her venerable parent. 6 O my dear, dear father P she said, ' let * me hide these tears of gratitude in your bosom I 1 and she sobbed aloud ; but, in a few moments, with a look of ineffable sweetness, she turned round, and, extending her hand to me, she brought mine between both of her's, and pressed it to her h3 154* mr. Coventry's adventures. lips. Good heavens ! my dear Easy, the action penetrated to my heart ; — the touch of her lips thrilled through my soul. That moment was worth ages of existence, as she exclaimed with the genuine pathos of nature, ( Teach me how to ' thank you, Sir ! For my heart is too full for ' utterance. — My father, Sir ! my dear father P " I was attempting to reply to such unaffected sweetness, when Mr. De Valmont said, ' Oh Julia, ' my darling child ! If there is a feeling unmixed 4 with the baser matter of our fallen nature, it is ' a father's affection for his daughter, such as I feel ' for you ! And grateful indeed am I to heaven ' for your safety, which is dearer to me than life 'itself.— Oh, Sir— 1 " Here his feelings overcame him, and I entreated him to be silent, and endeavour to recruit his exhausted spirits by means of a little repose. " ( You are very considerate, Sir, 1 said the young lady, 8 and I am sure you will assist me. ' Come, my dear father, put your arm round my 4 neck. Do not be afraid of bearing too heavily ! ' There, — there, — -come, father, come I 1 — And we almost carried him to the inn, while he alternately looked with gratitude on me, and then gazed with speechless yet affectionate tenderness on his daughter. CHAPTER XVIII. mr. Coventry's romantic adventures— pic- ture OF A SENTrMENTAL WAITING-MAID, &C " When I returned from the apartment to which I had assisted in conveying Mr. De Valmont, I observed Morbid pacing slowly along as if in deep meditation, and, at a little distance, an odd-looking figure twisting and twirling herself about, and brushing down her clothes as if vexed and discon- certed. As these two opposite beings were draw- ing towards each other, I stepped aside, and with some difficulty suppressed my laughter. For this was Mrs. Margaret the waiting-maid, who, while the horses were impeded for a moment near the farm-house, had been happily deposited in die pig- gery, from whence she had lately emerged and was making her way to the inn, with her finery somewhat dirtied and deranged, and her face and 156 mr. Coventry's hands not a whit the cleaner for her obtrusive visit to the swine's family-mansion. Morbid was ab- sorbed in his own reflections, and did not at first pay any attention to her, as she muttered between her teeth, " ' It is very provoking to have one's life saved ' by being tumbled heels-over-head into a filthy ' pig-stye ! so it is ! I wish I had never left dear ' delightful France : If I had been upset there, ' it would have been done in a genteel sentimental * way, and have been nothing but a charming inci- 1 dent. But here — Oh shocking ! — See what a con- * dition I am in ! I might as well have been mur- 4 dered at once in the forest of Soignies !' " « What's that you said, woman, about murder ' in the forest of Soignies T said Morbid, roused from his reverie, and seizing her roughly by the arm. £ Speak, what did you say V w ' I said, that Monsieur did not like to pass * through the forest, because — ' " * Because what V. " Because murders had been committed there.' " ' O, is that all?' said he, relinquishing his grasp, ADVENTURES. 157 " < All ? yes ! and enough too, I think ! — I am * sure, I am not so fond of murder, whatever yen ' may be f « < Me f " < Yes, you ! Why, man, you look. as ghastly 1 as if you were half murdered yourself, or as if 1 you were going to put an end to me ! Did you * ever kill any body ?" " « Pshaw! I am tortured by every human ' being' 1 — and the unhappy man darted abruptly away from her into the road, mounted on the top of a stage-eoach which happened to pass at the time, and proceeded to London without waiting for me, his companion in tribulation. " < Merciful me ! what a barbarous place this < is I 1 said the forlorn damsel ; ' not a decent crea- 4 ture to speak to. O Paris, Paris ! never shall I i forget thy dear regions of gallantry and pleasure ! 4 Never again shall I behold the object of my ado- 4 ration, the God of my idolatry ? His form, his 4 image will be for ever impressed upon my mind f " So will hers upon mine ! exclaimed I aloud, as I appeared before her. She is beauty's proto- type — she is perfection's self. 158 mr. Coventry's " I had scarcely ceased speaking before this Lady of the Bedchamber, without being at all put out of countenance, turned to me with the affected grace of a French elegante, placing her hand upon my arm with the ease and familiarity of an old acquaintance, and, peering with her little grey eyes full in my face, lisped out, ' Pardonnez mol, 4 Monsieur, but don't you think she is rather too * petite, too littelle V " No, Mademoiselle, I consider her as the master-piece of nature. " ' The chef-d'auvre of art, you mean.' " The most artless creature on earth. Her features pourtray every feeling of her mind I " * O clel! That's too much for a mere statue.' " A statue ! She has all the softness of femi- nine delicacy, blended with the fire of animation ! " ' If cold marble ean express so much.' " She, cold marble! — She has a heart warm and tender as the turtle dove ; and, give me leave to tell you, Ma'am, that you have a strange vitiated taste. " s Tout au contraire, Monsieur. Every body i of taste agrees with me.' " Pshaw, nonsense ! you are no judge. ADVENTURES. 159 .. i No judge, Sir ! I know that the best judges ' in the world give the preference to my Apollo.' u Your Apollo ! and pray who is he ? " 'Why, Sir, every body allows that the Venus 6 de Medicis is not so perfect as the Apollo Bcl- 6 videre? " What is it the Apollo Belvidere, then, that you have been talking about all this time ? " ' To be sure it is, and were you not speaking * of the Venus de Medicis & " Not I, upon my honour ! I never had the felicity of seeing her goddess-ship. w ' Oh barbare ! Then you know nothing. You f have never been at Paris, at least when it was ' worth while to be there.' " My dear little soubrette, I am more satisfied with the sight of your divine mistress, than I should be with all the goddesses in heaven or earth. " ' She is a delicate sweet creature, to be sure. * But she knows but little of life, nothing of men ' and manners. She is totally deficient in de air, 6 de grace, de maniere, le ton, V esprit, le tout 4 ensemble of a lady of fashion : — In short, she 4 wants le charmant je-ne-sais-qnoi des demoiselles ' de Paris? 160 Mil. COVENTRY^ " This was drawled out, with a vulgar imitation of a true Parisian accent; and I was highly diverted with the little Frenchified amphibious Abigail. But our conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Julia herself, who desired the waiting-maid to go and speak to her master. Miss De Valmont told me, ' that Margaret had lived 6 several years with her father, and was much 4 attached to him, that she was an honest kind- 4 hearted creature, but having resided long in 4 Paris, her head was half-turned with the vanities 4 of the place, which sometimes provoked her, for 4 that she was not herself so partial to it as many * young people were ; and that her father had * instilled into her mind certain old-fashioned 4 notions of right and wrong, which tended perhaps 4 to make her rather too fastidious. 1 " I said, in my opinion, the fastidiousness to which she alluded, threw the veil of modesty over the charms of my lovely country-women, arid would, I trusted, always protect them from the meretricious allurements of foreign example. 44 In fact, we entered into a long conversation ; and I found that, in consequence of the accident which had occurred, Mr. De Valmont intended to ADVENTU11ES. 161 return to London as. soon as he was able to travel ; and that it was their intention to take up their residence at the Earl of Rosemary's, in Portman- Square ; where her father, she said, hoped to see me on their arrival in town. I was delighted to find her the most intimate friend of the Earl's daughter; for my father was suffering in con- sequence of false representations that had been made to Lord Rosemary. I solicited her there- fore to induce Mr. De Valmont, to write a letter of introduction for me to his Lordship. " 6 I'll about it instantly,' said the charming Julia, ' and if earnestness in the cause can com- 6 mand success, it is yours. So, for the present, * adieu !' And I gazed on her vanishing form with the adoration of a Persian worshipping the sun. — Thus you see, my friend Easy, I was irrecoverably gone, over head and ears, without any warning of the danger ! Well, it cannot be helped, for drowning, and falling in love, are as much deter- mined by fate as other more mighty concerns. "As soon as I had procured my credentials, I set off for town, had an interview with his Lord- ship, cleared up my father's affair, and came to 162 mr. Coventry's adventures. the knowledge of the connection between him and Morbid, and that Mr. De Valmont was implicated in the story. — 111 now tell you all about it.''' « No— No !" said Mr. Easy, " Do have a little " mercy upon me, pray." " Well, well ! we will reserve it then as a boil " bouche for some other opportunity, after your Ci return from abroad. " So now let us to dinner with what appetite " we may !" CHAPTER XIX. A MATHEMATICAL TAILOR HIS TALENTS — EXER- TIONS IN BEHALF OF THE UNFORTUNATE, 8cC The next morning after I had been paid into the hands of Mr. Coventry, for a horse which he had sold, he was waited upon by an artist of cele- brity, who furnished him with wearing apparel, and was remarkable for the exactness of his jit. Indeed, he might truly be called a man of science ; for his admeasurement was adjusted to the thirty- second part of an inch upon the nicest mathema- tical calculation, according to the practice laid down in the books, — that is, in the learned and scientific treatises now published on the subject of cutting-out garments of every description. — This philosopher, as I may call him, did not merely act up to the letter of the vulgar adage of " Cut your coat according to your cloth," but boldly stepped 164 A VULGAR JEST. out of the beaten track, and cut his cloth according to his coat ; for he was the first man who turned out of his hand a perfect suit of clothes constructed on new mathematical principles. Such was the change of raiment which he brought home to Mr. Coventry, who was satisfied with his efforts and paid him his account for the preceding year ; and I departed from the presence of this facetious gentleman with a considerable number of compa- nions, that were safely lodged in Mr. Gooseberry's pocket, to his residence in Thayer-street, Mary-le- bone, where he had exercised his calling with great credit and respectability upwards of thirty years. Why this useful profession should have been the subject of ridicule in all ages and in all coun- tries, I cannot determine ; and I never could learn the origin of the ill-natured observation, that a tailor is but the ninth part of a man. Certain it is, that some of the profession, who entered the British army or navy in youth, have been extolled for their courage, as well as for their usefulness in repairing garments. In both these respects, the Knights of the Thimble have distinguished them- selves, and no man ought to depreciate their talents or detract from their well-earned laurels, GOOSEBERRY^ SYMPATHIES. 165 Mr. Gooseberry was a mighty man in parochial affairs ; and prided himself in having one of the best pews in that fashionable place of public wor- ship, Mary-le-bone New Church, in which, gallery rises tier above tier, in the same manner as in a theatre, and the most vulgar part of the congre- gation are allowed to occupy that part of it which is nearest to the heavens. My master was a well- meaning good sort of a man, and always stood up in the vestry for the rights of the oppressed. He considered the late Queen Caroline an injured woman ; and, in the fulness of his heart, he warmly espoused her cause and interests. To this subject it is my design to advert as deli- cately as possible ; and happy would it be for the rising generation, if every word respecting it could be blotted out from the pages of our history. But as it has agitated the public mind from one end of the kingdom to the other, it is impossible for me, seeing what I have seen, to pass it over. There were doubtless many kind-hearted, well-intentioned persons, who entered hotly into argument both for and against the late Queen ; but let those who were the warmest in her praise, now lay aside their 166 PROCEEDINGS OF THE passions and their prejudices, and coolly consider the motives of their unqualified approbation ; and let those who were the loudest in their censure imitate her benevolence, avoid her faults, and suffer her ashes to rest " in undisturbed repose. 1 ' Deputations from various trades and handicrafts assembled in crowds to present addresses to Queen Caroline, — so deeply did her Majesty and her sage Counsellors degrade royalty in her person ! The brass- founders, carpenters, stay-makers, sawyers, and other associated artizans formed separate pro- cessions, and went up to Court, as they called it, in fine style. But amongst these diversified groupes the tailors did not make their appearance as a distinct body. It was rumoured, that some cha-. grine was excited among the brotherhood, both great and small, on account of the trifling accession of profit which all this mighty parade brought to the gentle craftsmen ; and among the trade it was a current report, that the majority of those who were presented at the Queen's popular levees appeared in borrowed raiment. This seeming apathy very much disconcerted my possessor, who convened a public meeting of LATE QUEEN'S FRIENDS. ^ 167 the heads of the profession, which was thinly attended : a committee, however, was appointed to take the matter into further consideration, and a pro- fessional gentleman attended as secretary to report and take minutes of their proceedings. The mat- ter was debated with considerable acrimony ; and when the discussion had occupied much valuable time, Mr. Gooseberry observed, " that, according 44 to his habits of thinking, it seemed befitting for 44 every honest man to go thorough-stitch in this 44 business, and he should vote for an address to " be drawn up immediately an the spot. It did " not require to be an elaborate production, but 44 might, by a quick hand, be commenced and " finished in as short a time as you could stitch a " button-hole. 1 ' Mr. Buckram replied, " that, for his part, he " could see no occasion for such a piece of work " about making' a new address, as it was well 44 known that a certain veteran politician hawked 44 them about the country ready-made. Notwith- 44 standing the fine-drawn observations of the last 44 speaker, he could not discover the fitness of the 44 measure. ,, 168 PROCEEDINGS OF THE The speeches of the assembled knights were not remarkable for their prolixity ; but, like the con- troversy between the venerable Abbot of Kenna- quhair and the household chaplain of Avenel, the arguments on either side were pithily and indesi- nently plied, in the arithmetical progression of " replies, duplies, triplies, quadruplies," and so forth. In shorty the debate was protracted to to a late hour, when the secretary, becoming weary of the wordy clamour, remarked the improba- bility of their coming to a decision that evening : " For," said he " I observe that there are eighteen " of you, nine on one side and nine on the " other. When a man is thus equally divided " against another, the two cannot be unanimous. " So, Gentlemen, I wish you both a good night P He then with great coolness took his hat and with- drew. This remark, which was delivered with an em- phasis on particular words, which could not be mistaken, in reference to the vulgar stigma on their manhood, brought the tailors to the exercise of sober reflection ; and the fear of appearing ridi- culous in the eye of the public, prevailed against LATE QUEERS FRIENDS. 1 169 the opinion of Mr. Gooseberry, who, on the ques- tion being put to the vote, found himself in what he called, " the glorious minority of one," and his motion was consequently negatived. Being much chagrined at the failure of his favourite project, which he was unwilling to relin- quish, he afterwards succeeded in persuading the inhabitants of his own parish to go up in a body to Brandenburgh House, where the queen held her levees for the Mobility. His whole soul was engrossed in the anticipated honour, in the glorious idea of appearing in the presence of Royalty. He could think of nothing else ; and his hands and feet seemed to move solely for the purpose of faci- litating the extensive preparatory arrangements. He talked in his sleep about a gracious reception from her Majesty ; and he dreamt about it when he was wide awake. He took instructions from an eminent dancing-master, to qualify himself for entering a room with grace and dignity ; he prac- tised attitudes every morning for an hour ; he addressed his customers with the profound bow of a courtier, he never passed the pier-glass in his parlour, without making a low obeisance ; he was frequently seen in a corner of his cutting-room, vol. I. i 170 PROCEEDINGS OF THE smacking the back of his own hand ; and he was once caught practising a salute upon the hand of Dorothy his cook-maid. The big, the important day at length arrived. It was one of the brightest of all " the Queen's days," as fine days were then denominated. Surely such a day as this was never seen ! And no court in the world has ever yet recorded in its annals the assemblage and presentation of such a motley mul- titude of human beings, as was on that day exhib- ited. All the finery and full-dresses of Monmouth- street were put in requisition. All the satin and feathers, which had once been white, were brought forth from their hiding-places into the open light of day. Great numbers of barouches-and-four, with vehicles of all standards and capacities* descript and non-descript, were provided for the fairer part of the addressers. Every one, both male and female, was decorated with a white favour ; and every lady who had ostrich-feathers in her head-dress, and could contribute her seven shillings towards the expences of the journey, was accommodated with a seat in a carriage. The heterogeneous and really picturesque caval- cade reached from Hyde Park corner to Kensington LATE QUEERS FRIENDS. 171 Church. Every countenance beamed with exulta- tion, every heart beat high through a sense of its own importance ; and no one could refrain at least from a smile on beholding the amiable condescen- sion of the ladies, who waved their white handker- chiefs to the admiring crowd, and modestly inti- mated, by the peculiarity of their smiles, that they were proceeding to prop up the innocence of their queen, by that portion of the commodity which they still possessed. Many of them had providently secured to them- selves a bottle of liqueur, and a commodious foot- less glass, which might often be seen in a course of being handed around amongst a happy half-dozen ; who, by the celerity with which they emptied the exhilarating bumper, testified their heartiness in the cause of injured royalty. The turnpike-men and victuallers, on the Ham- mersmith road, never before had a harvest equal to that which was then displayed. Every house was crammed to suffocation, every cellar and larder were speedily emptied of their substantial contents. Indeed, the consumption of liquor and provisions on that occasion produced a temporary famine in the vicinity. 1% 17& PROCEEDINGS OF THE The tedious procession at length reached its destination, when the prodigious rush of the accu- mulated multitude, like an impetuous torrent, bore down all before it : Trees, hedges, gates, and rails presented a feeble opposition ; every inch of the grounds about Brandenburgh House was covered with this dense mass of population ; and so difficult was ingress into the favourite mansion, that many hours elapsed before the whole of the motley train could be admitted. Could it be a proof of Absolute Wisdom, to re- commend such exhibitions as this? For nothing could equal the burlesque absurdity of the scene, and I looked on it with a mixture of pity and contempt. I remained snug in the pocket of a pair of superb satin small-clothes, which had been made on the preceding day by my master's own hands ; and when I saw him sitting on the shop-board, in that graceful position alike common to tailors and Turks, and plying his nimble fingers at the agree- able task, I smiled at the idea of a man making the very breeches in which he was about to appear at court. Mr. Gooseberry approached the royal presence with the continued and most laboured performance LATE QUEEN'S FRIENDS. 173 of his long-practised obeisance, down to the very- verge of her Majesty's foot-stool ; and a universal titter ran through the apartment, not on account of any peculiar ungracefulness of posture, but from an unhappy accident of which he was not then aware : In the extreme pressure of the crowd, he had come in contact with the rude fingers of some youthful filch from St. Giles's, who had most un- ceremoniously abstracted a considerable portion of satin from his inexpressibles, which, with a large rent that was torn while in the act of hastily snatch- ing away the supposed prize in Mr. Gooseberry's pocket, exhibited a most unseemly vacuum to the astonished beholders behind him, and which he rendered the more conspicuous by his frequent and deep congees, that necessarily protruded the hinder parts of his body beyond their usual collateral dimensions. The Knight of the Rueful Countenance himself could not have suppressed a smile on perceiving the tokens of profound respect, mingled with supreme self-satisfaction, which emanated from the features of this tall and raw-boned Knight of the Thimble, while he knelt down to salute the extended hand of her Majesty. The contrast was great in his 174 gooseberry's safe return. crest-fallen countenance after he arose, and had discovered the depredations which had been com- mitted on his sable satins. But he blessed himself on finding that his money was safe, and that no further dilapidations had ensued: for he was a lucky left-handed man, and carried his cash on the sinister side. When he had again squeezed through the crowd at the hazard of his life, he mounted the barouche, in which he had come as passenger, and about seven o'clock in the evening arrived safely at his residence in Thayer-street. With many other well-meaning persons on that day, he appeared to be satisfied, that, whatever perils and mortifications he had endured, he had acted a conscientious part, and had only done what he conceived to be his duty. CHAPTER XX. CHANGE OF POSSESSOltS THE GOOD ME. FIRKIN HIS PASTOR, THE EXCELLENT MR. MAT- THIAS. After the danger from which I escaped at Hammersmith, my master thought it prudent on his return home to deposit me in an old wainscot bureau, where I remained in idleness for some days ; at the expiration of which, I was startled at Mr. Gooseberry's remark to his son, as he opened the little drawer in which I was placed, " that he was going into the city, and would pay " into the Bank all the money he had in the " house.'" He was wealthy, and kept a cash- account with the Bank of England : I shuddered therefore at the words ; for I had an insurmount- able horror at the idea of being again immured in that place of my early sufferings and captivity. But I was quickly relieved from this distressing 176 CHANGE OF POSSESSORS. apprehension by being counted out, with nine of my golden companions, and again lodged in the bureau. Two days afterwards, I passed into the hands of Mr. Batch, a baker in High-street ; by whom I was paid to Mr. Slang, of the Green Dragon pub- lic-house, and keeper of the livery-stables opposite, which was a famous place of resort to the gentle- men of the Fancy. If I wished to encroach upon the unhallowed ground which has been occupied in so classical a manner by the author of Boxiana, I could relate descriptions of fistical combats, which would afford ample additions to the copia verborum of the English language ; but whether they would be ultimately reckoned among its beauties and elegancies, would depend much upon the difference in tastes. I shall however resign this refined and delicate subject to hands of greater prowess. I was paid away by the bang-up Mr. Slang for a load of hay in the Hay-market, and was carried down into Berkshire, by John Nobs, the wag- goner, who was in a most restless state of anxiety till he had safely delivered me into the hands of his employer, a salesman or jobber near Reading. MR. FIRKIN. 177 I was not long in the possession of this latter person ; for, at the time when he received me, pre- parations had been made for his travelling to Lon- don, where he kept an account with Mr. Firkin, a considerable bacon-factor, in the settlement of which 1 was consigned to the well-furnished till of the substantial citizen. There was nothing suffi- ciently interesting in his character or person, to demand a particular description. He was a man of industrious and sober habits, and one who " held the noiseless tenor of his way," judiciously regard- less of whatever did not immediately concern him, and attentive only to the interests of his family and those of a Dissenting church in which he was a deacon. The reader will not need to be informed, that the duties of this office, among Dissenters, are chiefly confined to the regulation of secular affairs. It is only in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper that the lay -officers take a higher stand : In the administration of this ordinance, which thev who dissent from the Church of England profess^ to conduct after the manner of the feast of the five thousand, the deacons act in the place of the dis- i3 178 DUTIES OF A DEACON ciples, and, receiving from their minister the sacred emblems, present them to the multitude. Among other duties which devolved upon my master, was the payment of the pastor's salary ; — a duty which he loved to perform, as it afforded him frequent opportunities of indulging his own benevo- lent propensities, without wounding the feelings of a man so much his superior in habits and educa- tion. Mr. Firkin was one of that small, but, I hope, increasing class of philanthropists, who, in the nobleness of their nature, Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame ; and, thus preferring to conceal the actions of his right hand from his left, he was privileged to hope, that " his Father, who saw him in secret, would reward him openly."" The people over whom my owner exercised this subordinate kind of authority, were lamentably poor ; in consequence of which, the stipend of their minister, as apportioned from the pew-rents and a private subscription, was by no means adequate to the maintenance of his numerous family. Mr. Firkin had always been sensible of this, and having reaped considerable IN A DISSENTING CHURCH. 179 profit from the public discourses and private con- versation of his spiritual guide, he could not, either in gratitude or justice, permit him to be in want, while he had " enough and to spare ;" he therefore uniformly doubled, from his private purse, the amount of what was set apart for the minister's support. It was by this means that I became the property of the Rev. Bartholomew Matthias. I was placed on the table of this gentleman one morning in the company of several members of that paper family, so much despised by the old aristocratical guinea that flourishes in the com- mencement of my memoirs ; but whom, notwith- standing the raggedness of their progenitors, I esteem as they deserve, and acknowledge their rela- tion to myself, without adverting to the difference in our specific gravity. I was received by my reverend possessor with far more enviable emotions, and apostrophized in more consistent terms, than those which were felt and employed by Mr. Coventry when he observed the peaceful emblem which appears upon my sur- face. The eye of the one beamed on me with the careless flashes of facetious folly, while that of the 180 APPROPRIATE RECEPTION other glistened with the falling tear of unaffected thankfulness. Mr. Coventry addressed me as the witness of the faults of others. Mr. Matthias feared that I should testify of his own. I was the cause of anxiety in both : The curiosity of the one felt piqued, when he thought he could not become acquainted with my story and experience : and the alarms of the other were excited, lest I should know any thing which he had done dero- gatory from his sacred character, or lest I should be the recompense of services unfaithfully per- formed. " My friend, when he brought thee hither, it is true," exclaimed the minister, as he took me from the table, " spoke of the well-earned reward of my labours ; but, I fear, that if he knew the secrets of my heart, confiding and benevolent as he may be, his opinion would be altered. There is but one, however, before whom the secrets of all hearts are revealed. He knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are but dust, and is at all times willing to assist our infirmities. I trust I can appeal to Him, that I have discharged, to the best of my ability and with the purest intention that my frailty would permit, the duty which I owe to the people of my FROM MR. MATTHIAS. 181 charge : But after all, I am an unprofitable ser- vant, and utterly unworthy of the smallest of Heaven's blessings." There is something, however, so intrinsically great and good in a person who is truly devout, that an awkward man may as well pretend to be genteel as an hypocrite to be pious. Neither is it any proof that a man is deficient in the conscious- ness of inward rectitude, if, in the moments of his retirement, he questions the uprightness of his actions, or the purity of the motives from which they proceed. For he that is convinced of his natural depravity will ever be distrustful of his best performances. A noble mind disdains not to repent ; and few are the mortals who will not find calls for repentance continually suggested; perhaps the more frequently, as they become more exempt from the influence of those evil habits which have been per- petuated in the world ever since the day of " man's first disobedience." The Rev. Bartholomew Matthias was above the ordinary size ; not in perpendicular, but in circum- 182 THE GOOD PASTORS ference : for his measure round the waist was, like that of FalstafF, somewhat in advance of two yards. These extraordinary dimensions had been a stum- bling-block to many persons, who, in other respects, entertained a good opinion of my master. Why this circumstance should lay any foundation for objections, though sufficiently solid in itself, I was always at a loss to conjecture : for I knew it could not be attributed to any excessive indulgence of his carnal appetites, and was therefore less his fault than his misfortune. It may however be in part accounted for, by contrasting his mode of life, and the habitual cheerfulness of his heart as seen in the smoothness of his face, with the mise- rable self-denials and ascetic manners of those, who, disgusted with the laxity of discipline which had injured both the morals and religion of the members of our established church, in the days of Charles the First, brought back the ancient regi- men of sack-cloth and ashes, and who crowned the whole in their personal deportment, with the equi- vocal insignia of sad and disfigured faces. When I have seen the scathed ruins of a joint of meat departing from the table of the worthy HABITS AND MANNERS. 183 divine, — when I have seen him charge his hookah with tobacco, which, as Cowper says, Beats all Antycira's pretences To disengage th' encumbered senses, and is therefore the more fit to follow the valiant exploits at which I have already hinted, — when I have seen the smoke of its ignition rise In circling eddies to the skies ; and when the alternate puffs and jokes have issued from the laughing lips of the good man in beauti- ful succession, as though to verify the ancient proverb, Ex fumo dare lucem ; — when I have seen all this, and have supposed that a Puritan or two of Cromwell's time were also witnesses of it ; how have I imagined their righteous souls to have been shocked on beholding a son of theirs, who had departed so far from the line of demarcation which themselves had drawn, as, instead of fasting unto prayer the live-long day, to relieve by fre- quent intervals of this sort, obligations which they had deemed so exclusively important. The liberal opinion of Dr. Watts, Religion never was designed To make our pleasures less, 184 THE GOOD PASTOR^ is not distorted when interpreted to mean, that no man is called upon by any duty, to make a continual sacrifice of the comforts of this life when within his reach ; and though abstinence at proper seasons is undeniably the part of every good Chris- tian, yet creature-comforts were designed by the Giver of all good for the sustentation of the out- ward man. He that gave, will, when necessity requires, withdraw his gifts, if they be not used with becoming moderation ; but mortals have no need to anticipate the Divine intentions. It is therefore plain, that my reverend possessor, while he retained the primitive simplicity and sterling piety of his fore-runners, might consistently depart from the rigorous and arbitrary sway which they, in the spirit of super-erogation, maintained over the appetites of the body and the innocent viva- cities of the heart. The peculiarities of Mr. Matthias were, like those of all public men, eagerly seized upon as food for ridicule by little minds. His enemies however were not able to relate any thing at all to his discredit ; they could only tell you, that when he received a call to the charge which he now holds, the vestry door- way had to be considerably HABITS AND MANNERS. 185 widened ; as he could not, like men of less rotun- dity, pass side-ways through. For, though (speak- ing mathematically) his periphery was still elliptical, yet the transverse diameter was little less than the conjugate, and neither of them was short enough to form a tangent with the door-posts. There was also a report, circulated, I believe, by Master Jonathan Chantum, his facetious Clerk, that the cast-off gowns of the minister were not so small, but that they made some half-a-dozen frocks for the daughters of the Janitor. " Our minister, I think," Jonathan sometimes said, " acts up to the letter of the proverb, Laugh and grow Jat ; but, mind me, I speak it under favour of his reverence's absence.'" With regard to the qualifications of my owner for the ministry, I had not an opportunity of judg- ing, except from his conversation with occasional visitors, and the ghostly consolations which he administered to the sick and dying; in both of which he appeared to great advantage. The duties of relieving the wretched, of encouraging the fear- ful, and of confirming those who wavered, seemed to be his peculiar delight. His whole heart went along with the petitions which he offered up to 186 THE GOOD PASTOR. heaven, from the bed-side where " parting life was laid ;" By their controul, Despair and anguish fled the trembling soul ; And many, whom he was the instrument of saving on the brink of perdition, shall be " the crown of his rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus." I was the more pleased also, with the order of his family, as I had never before been the inmate of a house where so marked a reference was made, in the common transactions of life, to the immortality of the soul. In other families, the safety of the soul was sacrificed to the gratification of the body ; but in this, the soul was very properly considered as " the nobler part," and the body, so frail and uncertain in its duration, was never humoured when the interests of its undying inmate were concerned. The venerable man was aware of the responsibility which attached to him as the father of a family, and it was therefore his constant aim to educate his children in the nurture and the fear of God, as well by the force of his own example as of the precepts contained in the Gospel. CHAPTER XXI. THE PASTOR^ FAMILY THEIR EVENING DEVO- TIONS A FRAUD COMMITTED AND DETECTED. I have said I was pleased with the orderly con- duct of my master's family, and I think, that no sight and sound could be more gratifying to a well disposed mind than those with which I have been greeted in his dwelling. It was customary for the minister, At the close of the day, when the [city] was still, to assemble his household for the purpose of devo- tion. On the night to which I now refer, as soon as they were all seated, the worthy father opened his Testament with these words : "JHere beginneth " the Twelfth Chapter of St. Paul's Epistle to the " Romans." In a solemn and impressive tone he read the whole chapter , and concluded with a clear and familiar enforcement of the duties it enjoins. When this was done, they sang a version of the first psalm, which is so beautiful as to require an 188 the pastor's insertion in this page : It was composed by the unhappy Burns ; and, like many other charming productions from poetical sources equally objection- able, was transcribed in the Album of Mr. Mat- thias, without any allusion to the author's name, lest his other more profane effusions should vitiate the minds of his children. The man, in life wherever placed, Hath happiness in store, Who walks not in the wicked's way, Nor learns their guilty lore ; Nor from the seat of scornful pride, Casts forth his eyes abroad, i But with humility and awe Still walks before his God. That man shall flourish like the trees Which by the streamlets grow ; The fruitful top is spread on high, And firm the root below. But he whose blossom buds in guilt, Shall to the ground be cast, And, like the rootless stubble, tost Before the sweeping blast. For why ? that God the good adore, Hath given them peace and rest, But hath decreed that wicked men Shall ne'er be truly blest. The last note of the piano, touched by the deli- cate fingers of the eldest daughter, had not ceased FAMILY-DEVOTIONS. 18& to vibrate, and the general voice was silently- expiring, when all knees were bent, and the minister engaged in prayer. Beginning with the glorious perfections of the Deity and the wickedness of man, he proceeded to acknowledge the bounty of the Highest in providing himself and his family with food and clothing, and a house in which to dwell, while others who, he said, were more deserving of such expressions of the Divine Good- ness, were entirely destitute. He then confessed the multitude of his own sins and his family's, with their constant liability to err ; and asked forgive- ness of God, and his grace to help them in the time of need. Afterwards he prayed for the blessings of the night, for comfortable rest, and freedom from all danger; and commended each and all before him to the special protection of Heaven. Then he implored merciful supplies for the poor and the needy, the sick and the afflicted ; and entreated that the varied dispensations of Divine Providence, towards nations and individ- uals, might accomplish their designed purpose. Finally, he begged, that the Lord would turn the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, and hasten the appointed time, when the knowledge of his glory should cover the earth, &c. 190 THE PASTORS As soon as the prayer was ended, the children bade good night, according to their seniority. — First came the rosy youth of thirteen, who had been the very picture of his father from the hour of his nativity, except in one single particular, con- cerning which no comparison could be instituted, as the son had not arrived at his full growth. Next, in succession, came the pictures of their mother, grandmother, and three aunts, whose cor- respondence with their prototypes was quite as matutinously discovered as the former, and, doubt- less, equally correct. — The youngest, who lay, a smiling cherub, in his cradle, was most likely to be the picture of them all : For he had the eyes of one, the nose of another, the mouth of a third, and the silken tresses of a fourth ; combining, as the parents would frequently observe, the principal graces of the family in one celestial countenance. Whether there be any truth in what some writers have asserted,- — that the youngest in a family, though never so devoid of beauty, is always ac- counted the most lovely, — I cannot pretend to determine ; but I may, without according entirely with the decisions of the parents, safely affirm, that I have not seen a more healthy and blooming company of children than the little Matthiasses. FIHE-SIDE. 191 The manner of their dismissal was peculiarly impressive : The warm and affectionate embrace of their mother was first given. From her they passed to the father, who sat with patriarchal dig- nity upon his elbow-chair, and, placing his hand upon each of their heads, as they passed in due order, repeated in a tone of deep solemnity : — " Jehovah bless thee and keep thee !" &c. After they had retired to their dormitories, the father and his spouse drew nearer to the fire ; he to light his pipe, and she to evince her affection by enduring with cheerfulness, what cannot but offend the delicacy of female nerves, the strong effluvia and smoke of tobacco. This dutiful endurance of an habit which her husband had, perhaps unfortu- nately, contracted, often reminded me of a plea- sant tale which I have heard Mr. Coventry relate : A certain lady, in the middle ranks of life, had, from a perusal of a treatise by King James, enti- tuled A Counter-blast to Tobacco, imbibed a more than ordinary aversion to that pungent weed, "Which, whether, pulverised, it gain A speedy passage to the brain, or be used in the way of fumigation, is equally offensive to many persons. Whenever this became 192 A ST011Y a topic of conversation in her presence, she always declared, that perpetual celibacy was infinitely pre- ferable to a yoke-fellow who was either a taker of snuff or a smoker of tobacco ; and she frequently enforced her philippics, with the following quota- tion from the royal author : " Moreover, which is a great iniquity, and against all humanity, the husband shall not be ashamed to reduce thereby his delicate, wholesome, and clean-complexioned wife to that extremity, that either she must also corrupt her sweet breath therewith, or else resolve to live in a perpetual stinking torment." And truly, I think, had she lived in the days of Mr. Lundifoot, she need not, for lack of opportunity r , " have deceived herself, 1 ' as Cumberland remarks, " with opinions upon which she had not thoroughly reflected in her solitary hours." She was, however, well confirmed in her resolutions, when a gentle- man, who had seen her at a public place, addressed her with offers of marriage. After the usual vacil- lations of pretended dislike and real inclination, the suitor was received, and the nuptial ceremonies were performed, greatly to the satisfaction of them- selves and their connections. They were fondly attached to each other; and every thing went for- CONCERNING TOBACCO. 193 ward very smoothly, till after the expiration of the honey-moon, when the maid came running down the stairs one morning, almost breathless with anxiety and haste, and exclaimed, as she reached the lowest step, " I declare, Ma'am, if my master " is not smoking P — The lady was astounded at the words, and would not believe that her caro sposo was addicted to so gross an habit. But the maid persisted to assert, that she had not only seen the pipe, but the smoke also ; and if her mistress would but go up stairs, and peep through the key- hole, she would see it for herself. She did so, but she was not thrown into hysterics by the sight ; and returned to her occupations in the kitchen, reply- ing to the maniac gaze of the poor girl, who had previously known her deep-rooted antipathies to tobacco, " It is just as you told me, Betty ; but " he smokes so prettily !" As soon as the minister's evening regale and the o-rateful converse of his wife were finished, the fires were carefully extinguished ; and " tired na- ture" sought again in " balmy sleep' 1 the restoration of its vigour. After the performance of the customary family- devotions on the following morning, and while the VOL. I. K 194 ENIGMATICAL children were seated with them at the breakfast- table, my master and his wife were surprised by the receipt of a letter from a brother of the Cloth, in the vicinity of town ; of which, though it cer- tainly was ended on the second side of the sheet, they could not, as they phrased it, " make either end or side.'" It was couched in the following words : " To the Rev. Bartholomew Matthias. 66 Dear Brother, " The Lord hath truly said, The silver is mine, and the gold is mine ; the cattle also upon a thousand hills : and whatever He hath given, is of his pure mercy. Since he hath caused the light of his face to shine upon us, and hath filled us with the finest of the wheat, let us rejoice and be exceeding glad. There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth. Such was our deceased friend, who maintained his regard for the prosperity of Zion to the end of life, by the tokens which We both possess. I hope we shall not, by our good fortune, be induced to invite our souls to take their ease, but rather say with the Psalmist, Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits. For my own part, I do APPEARANCES. 195 not apprehend much danger on this score, my sti- pend, as you know, being none of the most envia- ble ; and my family, — I bear in mind the passage of the lilies of the field,— having scarcely where- withal to clothe and cover them. It will, I doubt not, be equally seasonable to you. Praying, that our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth, that our daughters may be as corner-stones polished after the similitude of a palace, and that our gar- ners may be full, affording all manner of store, I unite with you in thanks for this singular dropping of the showers that shall one day come in better coin, and remain, " Your brother in the Gospel, « MATTHEW BAXTER. " P.S. My wife unites with me in Xtian regards.*' I confess that I was very much at fault to com- prehend the meaning of this document. It seemed to convey something congratulatory both to the writer and to my master ; and hinted at advantages accruing to them from the death of one of their mutual friends. But it left no ground for plau- sible conjecture, much less for any definite con- k2 196 THE ENIGMA elusion. The worthy couple whom it most con- cerned, were as much confounded by it as myself S and, notwithstanding the penetration of the lady was, on other subjects, very deep, she could not unfold this mystery. ft Do you recollect, my love,' 11 said she, " any " one to whom the term deceased friend will " apply R" " No ; unless it be the poor old man I visited cc last LordVday. He gave me, — what I value " more than this world's dross, — the blessing of *? one that was ready to perish. But it cannot be " he, for our friend Mr. Baxter has no acquaint- " ance with him." u But is it not strange that he should write in " this way ? He must have some foundation " for it." " Doubtless, he has ; for he is a man of too u much gravity, to make a jest, especially in such " a strain as this. I dare say we shall — V He was proceeding to remark, that it was pro- bable the matter would in time be cleared up, when a genteel knock was heard at the door. Mrs* Matthias immediately quitted the apartment ; and a young gentleman, of very prepossessing appear. PARTLY SOLVED. 19? ance, was announced as desiring to speak with the minister. He entered the parlour ; and, after an exchange of civilities, informed my master, that " he was the clerk of Messrs. , of Man- u Chester," whom Mr. Matthias knew to be respectable solicitors. My master begged him to be seated. " Thank you, Sir," said he, " I cannot stay ; I " merely called to inform you of the death of Mr. " Allan." " Dead ! I heard he was exceedingly well, a " week ago." " And so he was, Sir ; but on Thursday morn- " ing last, as he was taking his usual walk, a fit of M apoplexy seized him ; and he died in less than " an hour." " Poor man ! I am sorry for his widow and the " dear children. They have lost a good husband fcC and a kind father." " They do indeed deserve our sympathies ;" replied the lawyer ; " but I also came to inform " you, that your name is mentioned in the will, in " company with that of Mr. Baxter, a minister in " the vicinity of London : To each of you, as u esteemed friends of the deceased, is bequeathed 198 THE ENIGMA "the sum of one hundred pounds. My employers " are appointed, by the will, joint-executors with " the widow."" " I thank you for the information, Sir ; and am " only sorry for the lamentable cause, that gave it " rise. Will you take some refreshment ?" " I have just taken breakfast, Sir. — If you would " prefer receiving the bequest now, you may. It xi is a matter of perfect indifference to us when it " is paid. — Only I had leave, in case you should " desire immediate payment, to make out the " necessary order. Will you have it now, or when " the will is regularly executed ?" " I should be sorry to presume on the kindness " of your employers ; but if it is not inconvenient, " Sir, I certainly feel disposed to accept of your " polite proposal."" ** By no means inconvenient ; it gives me plea- u sure to oblige you, Sir. I suppose you are " aware of the expences attending transactions of " this nature ?" " I am not much versed in matters of business," replied the unsuspecting man ; who was, in truth, as unable to cope with any of the DeviVs own 9 (though it was a part of his profession to expose the PARTLY SOLVED. 199 subtleties of their aspiring head,) as a lamb to release itself from the talons of an eagle ; " but I leave it " in your hands, Sir, you will do me reason" " I am flattered by your confidence, Sir ; and " am entirely at your service. I shall pass by " Somerset House, in the course of the day, and " will call there and procure you the necessary " document, which will cost 50 shillings." " I take it very kindly, Sir : shall I now give " you two pounds ten ?" " There is no necessity ; it will do quite as well " when I return. Good morning, Sir." " Good morning to you ; we shall hope for the " pleasure of your company to dinner." The lawyer's clerk did not, however, return to dinner ; and the joyous couple had leisure to con- gratulate each other. It is no reflection, I pre- sume, upon their feelings, to observe, that the death of their friend, as a calamity, was soon for- gotten in the accession to their little fortunes which it had occasioned ; for he was a man prepared for whatever might befal him, and was, besides, very opulent : His immediate connections, therefore, had no need of his support. A great allowance is certainly to be made for that indefinable attach- 200 NATURAL ment which mortals feel to all who partake of the same kindred flesh and blood ; but even this, after the few first ebullitions of sorrow are gone by, will yield to the reflection, that " death is the portal which opens to the good man's view a scene of painless and ineffable enjoyment. ,, By this I do not mean to infer, that the good cou- ple partook at all of that feeling in which a merce- nary heir once indulged, who exclaimed in the presence of his widowed relation, " His loss is our gain," betraying, by an involuntary transposition of the pronouns, the indecent tendency of his reflec- tions. The sudden departure of their friend did not fail to produce its natural effect on minds so susceptible as theirs. It formed for some time the subject of their conversation, and gave rise to many appropriate and affecting observations on the uncertainty of human life, and the necessity of preparing for the hour of death and the day of judgment. A decent pause at length intervened, during which the feelings had time to relinquish, in some degree, the mournful cast which they had lately assumed, and the lady was the first to speak. " What shall we do then with this legacy, my ANTICIPATIONS. 201 " dear ? For I see no danger of counting our " chickens before they are hatched. 11 " I did not anticipate this kindness from my old " friend ; but I know that he was every way " capable of it. And therefore, as you say, what " shall we do with it T* « First, there is Matilda's school-bill, and her " music-master ; both want paying. That will take " off 10 pounds from the sum." " Then you shall have the silk-gown, so long *' promised you ; the cost of which you are better " qualified to compute, than I am. 11 " But I must request that you will first procure " yourself a great-coat ; — an article you need " much more than I do a gown." " Which, though I am no appraiser, will not " exceed, I should imagine, our present ability of « payment, even after I have given my consent to " the purchase of a top-coat. 1-1 " Certainly, my dear ; but I would not seem to fa be extravagant. 11 " You do not know your danger, I should " rather say your safety. Extravagant is a " word of Latin derivation : it means wandering « beyond, or out of bounds. Do you see your w error?" &" 202 HOPEFUL " It would be greater, if I should resist your " inclination ; and, as you wish it, I will have this " piece of finery. " For thee alone these little charms I dress." " You were ever before me, in upholding the " memorable decree of Ahasuerus, which he made, u as you may recollect, at the suggestion of a " Median prince, when Vashti refused to submit " to the pleasure of her royal husband."* I will not fatigue my readers with any more of their discourse, which, however interesting to me as a display of conjugal sportiveness and affection, will not perhaps be generally relished. It will be sufficient to say, that the legacy was easily disposed into separate small portions, without any just im- putation of extravagance, either in its Latin or English signification. The attorney's clerk was faithful to his pro- mise ; and called again in the course of the after- noon. As before, he was exceedingly polite, and repeatedly disclaimed the obligations which my master as repeatedly expressed. The two-pounds- ten affair was now produced from the young law- yer s bill-book ; and with much apparent uncon- APPEARANCES. 203 cern was spread upon the table. But what was my surprise, on discovering that this expensive article was only one of those papers which are indiscri- minately given to any respectable person who applies at the Legacy Office; and which, when properly filled up by the Legatee, are returned to the same department, that the appointed officers may know what duty to demand. My master was, however, entirely unaware of the cheat : The for- midable array of black and red letters interspersed upon the paper imposed upon his ignorance ; and the impression of its authority was not a little in- creased when he saw the sounding words One hun- dred pounds sterling, most ingeniously placed in one of the blank spaces which were left, and confirmed by the syllogistical succession of black and red print and manuscript, arranged with such logical precision, that no man, like my master, unacquainted with the world, but fami- liar with the schools, could ever hesitate about the legitimacy of the written conclusion, which was this — By order of the Executors qfW. All ax, Esq. to which was appended the bold signature of the soi-disant clerk. 204) UNSUSPECTING INNOCENCE. The whole was done with the air of one that is more anxious to serve another than himself; and the refined robber evinced such carelessness about the re-payment of his two-pounds-ten when offered to him, that, if any suspicion had arisen in the mind, it would have been instantly suppressed. He proceeded so far as to accept the minister's invita- tion to tea ; and conversed in such a tone of enthusiasm about the progress of missionary exer- tions, and other matters connected with the state of Christianity, that Mr. Matthias pronounced him in his own mind a very worthy young man. He also eno-ao-ed him to take his letters of condolence to the widow of his late benefactor, when he should return to Manchester. He remained till late in the evening, and seemed particularly affected by the devotional services of the family ; and after his departure, his praises with Mrs. Matthias ran so high, that she exclaimed, " Take him for all in all, We ne"er shall look upon his like again." A prophecy which I, who began to see into his character, most heartily hoped, in a sense a little different, would be verified in their expe- rience. THE DEVELOPEMENT. 205 They are only boys whose sleep is interrupted by a fortunate occurrence ; and though I was paid away as an unwilling part of the recompence of the unmanly fraud, by my late possessor, yet he, good easy man, unconscious of the wrong, was neither less sound nor less sounding in his slumbers on account of the imaginary increase of his property. He arose betimes ; and, after breakfast, went with the order for his legacy in his pocket, to receive the gratulations of his friend Firkin, who re- joiced in every thing which related to his pros- perity. As soon as he entered the shop, and had receiv- ed a hearty shake of the hand from his worthy deacon, he exhibited the paper that contained the bequest of his friend Allan, when Mr. Firkin, without waiting for an explanation, asked if he were going to pay the duty ; but in the same breath, for he was all the while perusing the do- cument, he exclaimed, " My good Sir ! How did " you come by this? it concludes somewhat" my s. " teriously : I am afraid you have been swindled !',' My master began at the beginning of the history, and was proceeding regularly on ; but when he 206 RESIGNATION AND came to tell that he had paid two-pounds-ten for the expences, the wrath of Mr. Firkin could no longer contain itself; and he launched forth into a violent tirade against dishonesty, too long for repetition ; but which concluded with an exposition of the laws of legacy, that will prevent the good pastor from being duped so easily again, by the artificial politeness and plausible pretences of one whose credentials are forged. Mr. Matthias returned home to communicate the upshot of the matter to his wife, who was not a little vexed that she had lavished her praises on so indifferent an object as their new friend from Manchester. They did not however allow it to disturb their equanimity ; but notwithstanding the silence which they observed on the subject, it ap- peared to have been divulged : For, a few days after the occurrence, Mr. Matthias received an anony- mous letter, enclosing a bank note for twenty pounds, which bore this laconic inscription : " A trifling compensation for a great disappointment /" The reader will be disposed to adjudge the merit of this act of kindness to the citizen and cheese- monger : but, be that as it may, it was the cause INTEGRITY REWARDED. 207 of great thankfulness to the minister, and enabled him to pay off the arrears of his daughter's educa- tion, to procure his wife a silk gown, and himself a great coat, — the three principal objects of their recent contemplation. He preserved the legacy order in his cabinet of curiosiiies, endorsing it with this very suitable inscription from Juvenal, in com- memoration of the kindness of the gentleman who made it out : Signator falso, qui se lautum, atqije beatum Exiguis tabulis, et gemma fecerat uda, CHAPTER XXII. THE PROGRESS OF CRIME IN A YOUTHFUL SWIN- DLER ASCOT-HEATH MR. BRISKET^ CHARAC- TER, &C. f The fellow, by whose artifice I was removed from the happy house of Mr. Matthias, was a practised swindler. His father was a reputable tradesman in the town of Manchester ; and his son had the advantage of a good education. At the age of sixteen years he was articled to a respectable solicitor in London, and passed through his term of apprenticeship, so far as concerned the transac- tion of his master's business, in a very creditable manner. But long before the expiration of that term, he had abandoned the judicious advice of his mother, and preferred the creed of his dissolute companions, who taught him that his hatred to a theatre arose from the narrowness of the principles which he had imbibed. w If you would not ren- der yourself ridiculous," they were accustomed to EFFECTS OF RAILLERY. 209 say, " you must resign these foolish notions of yours; they are only fit to be adopted by old women, who, because they are no longer able to partake of the pleasures of the young, will envi- ously condemn them, and instil into the minds of inexperienced youths, like you, a thousand absurd prejudices. Not go to the Theatre! How absurd! It is the best school of manners, the glass of fashion, the medium through which we gain a knowledge of the world ; and, if you have any idea of being called to the bar, it is the place where you may study the graces of delivery after the most finished models." The unfledged attorney was very speedily con- vinced, that he must either yield to the persuasions of his friends, or must submit to be the butt of all their ridicule and scorn, — an alternative which, more than all the boasted advantages, prevailed over his better resolutions, and induced him for once to attend a theatre. Once, twice, and thrice he went ; and every time, some new attraction was presented, till at length the fascinating charm was broken, the novelty was past, and the finest exhi- bitions of the drama ceased any longer to allure him. He had, however, by attending at the theatre, 210 THIEVISH ADROITNESS. acquired the tone of a man of the world ; he learnt to interlard his conversation with a graceful oath, and to ridicule religion, — qualifications which fully prepared him for every successive step in his head- long march of wickedness and dissipation. Bil- liard-rooms and petty gaming-houses became the great places of his resort, about the time when his apprenticeship expired ; and in them he made rapid advances in the art of genteel robbery, which he has long practised to admirable effect. His first occasional losses drove him to desperation ; he robbed his master to a considerable amount, and, being afraid of discovery, absconded. He was, however, at no loss for the means of subsistence ; for he became acquainted with a set of black-legs, who, on hearing of his late exploit, very cordially received him into their fraternity, and speedily instructed him in every branch of their profession. He soon acquired the finish of a sharper, and, in a trial of skill, was able to cope with any of his senior brethren ; but his particular depart- ment was that of obtaining money under false pretences. He had the faculty of easily acquaint- ing himself with the character and connections of any of his dupes; and of finding out the CONFIRMED CRIMINALITY. 211 way in which it was most easy to practise a fraud in a colourable manner. To this cruel penetration he had sacrificed many a simple individual, besides the worthy minister whose character I have briefly delineated : for his moral feelings were completely destroyed, and he cared little who the victim might be, provided he was empowered to indulge his evil propensities, and to gratify the worst pas- sions of his nature. It is scarcely necessary to name the parties into whose hands I passed when I was separated from this wicked man, "young in years but old in crime. M I was paid away in rather quick succession to many disreputable persons, whose revolting cha- racters would disgrace these pages, while the recital would serve no moral purpose. The first honest man in whose possession I found myself, after being tossed about nearly a fortnight among gamesters, harlots, and vagabonds, was an eminent salesman in Smithfleld. This person parted with me almost immediately, in some transaction respecting cattle, which I did not understand, to Mr. Brisket, a butcher at Windsor, who is well known in the neighbourhood of Peascod-stree:. The first day I was with him, 212 GRAND CRICKET-MATCH. he passed over the bridge, and stopped for some time to witness a grand cricket-match between the Etonians and the townsmen of Windsor ; and I was highly gratified at the assemblage of these bold and beautiful boys, scions of the nobles and commoners of the realm, and regarded them as the future heroes, statesmen, and divines of their native country. Their youthful spirit and activity triumphed over the skill of their more mature antagonists ; and when a shout from two or three hundred of these exulting urchins announced the victory of their comrades, at this truly English game, the sound thrilled through my frame with an undefinable sensation, such, I suppose, as human adults must experience when they reflect on the days of their youth that are fled for ever. A few days afterwards Mr. Brisket mounted Punch, his brown poney, which had a shaggy mane and a straggling switch tail, with a coat as rough and shabby as his master's. For the butcher's blue frock, and the steel which hung at his girdle, as the badge of his profession, were never laid aside, except on Sundays or some very extraordinary occasion. Notwithstanding the uncouthness of the animal's appearance, it could trot fourteen miles an ASCOT HEATH. 213 hour with ease, and had been victor in many a well-contested match. All the world appeared to be going along the same road ; a full tide of human population was pouring onward to Ascot Races. Vehicles of all denominations, from the Royal barouche, down to the dustman's one-horse cart from Tothiil-fields with fifteen inside passengers, might be seen in the train. Horses of all pedigrees, from the high- blooded hunter, down to the broken-knee'd hack, and shuffling Shetland poney, jostled against each other on the crowded road. No sooner had we arrived on the course than the busy note of preparation was begun ; the weighing of the jockies, the buz, the betting, the agitation of the croud, attracted my attention. Then, the riders mounted in their gay and varie- gated jackets, ranging themselves ready for the contest : — Here, you might see a knowing 1 one whispering into the ear of a jockey : — There, the owner of a favourite horse fondly patting his sleek and silky sides, whilst the high-mettled racers, pawing the ground beneath their feet, " stood like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the start." Hark ! the signal is given, — off they go, with a £14? ASCOT HEATit swiftness equal to the arrow's speed ! Every eye follows thern ; the short man raises himself an inch higher on his toes ; he who is taller stretches forth his neck with eagerness, to catch a glimpse of their career. The noise of the multitude is hushed, the breath of the spectators is suspended, till some three or four of the noble creatures are seen straining with every sinew towards the stand, where the judges of the race must decide. Now the rapidly alternate passions of hope, fear, despair, and exul- tation, became apparent in every variety of tone and gesture ; and short ejaculations break forth from the pressing crowd, according to their several wishes : — " Now blue !" " Well done pink and white P 1 " Five to four on the grey horse !" " See, see ! the filly's a-head !" " The filly against the field P "Now they are all four abreast !" " She has it— No — Yes r " Hurra ! the filly has it by half a head I" — And the knowing ones instantly pro- ceeded to the betting-post, where the noise is equal to the din of the Stock-Exchange, and where all sorts of personages are on a par with each other. My master had never missed a race for the last twenty years, and was as well-known as any jockey on the course. He had realized a handsome inde- RACES. 215 pendence, principally by his experience on the turf ; and recourse was had to his opinion on all critical occasions. When the vociferations of " Two to one on the filly r — " I'll take the odds on the grey horse P " An even bet on Smolensko !" — had somewhat subsided, my master, brushing up briskly on his poney to a thin effeminate-looking man, in appear- ance much like a groom, said, to my astonishment, " I'll bet your Grace five to four, the grey horse " against your bay filly." " Done P was the reply, and the butcher's greasy fist was enclosed in the delicate palm of the Duke of " I mean hundreds, of course, your Grace !*" said Brisket, who noted down the bet on a little dirty bit of slate-paper* which he held in his hand ; then clapped spurs to Mr. Punch, and trotted away, whistling in a careless strain, till the event of the race proved the excellence of the butcher's judgment, when he very coolly put into his pocket the Duke's draft on Coutts' house, for four hun- dred pounds. Between the different heats, the ladies stepped from their carriages and promenaded on the turf, 216 ASCOT HEATH which was soft and smooth as a turkey-carpet. The elegance and beauty displayed on that occasion, the surprising variety of splendid equipages, the vast number of equestrians mounted on the finest animals in the world, and the motley concourse that made up the rest of the crowd and cavalcade, gave the semblance of enchantment to the moving pros- pect, and formed altogether such a scene of splen- dour, opulence, and interest as England alone could produce. It was a delightful day, and the glowing mass of beings around me exhilarated my spirits. But, on a race-course, there are some sad concom- itants not calculated to satisfy the purity of an ethereal being ; of which one is, the wide field that it opens to the passion for gambling, — and the other, the baneful impulse that it imparts to the prince and the ploughman. Neither could I see any rea- son why such numbers of E O tables should be so openly allowed : At some of them, boys of fifteen, with clothing scarcely sufficient to cover them, were seen winning their guinea with careless indifference. At one of these tables I noticed a little dandy stripling, not more than a dozen years old, sporting RACES. 217 his money with the coolness and experience of a veteran gamester. The boy's countenance was exceedingly beautiful; but his youthful features were distorted, according to the variations of his fortune, and he still pursued the game, regardless of adverse consequences. My master interfered to prevent the further loss of his money ; and on enquiring to whom he belonged, he discovered, that he was groom to the notorious Major D., whose fancy it is to receive into his employ the most beautiful lad he can find, to equip him in a riding costume, similar to his own, and to have his clothes made by his tailor of the finest materials, with no variation by which to distinguish him as a servant, except a small crest, engraved on the buttons of his bluejacket, that is generally covered with a superlatively fashionable white great-coat. This practice has now become quite the mode among the aspirants for celebrity on the turf; and a dashing young man of ton can scarcely be seen in these days without one of these pretty equivocal mini- atures of himself seated at his side in his tilbury or barouche. Mr. Brisket had just learnt these particulars, VOL. I. l 218 ASCOT HEATH when a hue and cry was raised, and a call for Major D.'s servant was heard from several quar- ters. This little master of the horse, it seems, had been left in charge of the curricle, whilst the owner of it prattled on the course, or walked up to the ladies' gallery : The boy thought himself equally entitled to some gameful relaxation, and required little invitation to quit his charge, and join in the hazardous amusements around him ; in the interval, a company of those ingenious abstrac- tors, from town, who make an imposing part in all large concourses, borrowed the Major's horses and curricle, and vanished from the course, whilst the boy was eagerly engaged at the E O table, to which he had been purposely allured by one of the genteel depredators. Information was promptly given at Bow-street, but without effect : For the horses were speedily cropped, nicked, and metamorphosed in such a jockey ish style, as to render it impossible to recognise them. The colour of the carriage was likewise expeditiously transformed from a King's Yellow to a dark Green ; the body was placed upon new wheels, and the Major's wheels were attached to another body. These changes ren- ItACES. 219 dered the identity of the curricle exceedingly ambiguous, so that it could not be properly called an old friend with a new face, but " an old friend with a new body." Though the alterations which it received were ultimately well ascertained, yet no one could undertake to swear to the property, and the Major thus became minus a curricle and pair. l 2 CHAPTER XXIII. WINDSOR AND ITS VICINITY ANECDOTE OF KIN© GEORGE THE THIRD. After the feats of the day, my master and I jogged on to Windsor, where he kept open house during the races. I accompanied him the next morning, while he shewed the lions of the place to a party of visitors from London ; and though he had been more than twenty times before through the castle, yet on this occasion he doffed his blue frock and steel, and acted as attendant to his friends along the well-known route. In spite of his occupation, I never passed through the hands of any indivi- dual who had more genuine politeness than the Windsor butcher ; for, Do as you would be done by, one of the many simple maxims of Christianity is superior to all the elaborate rules of good breed- KING GEORGE THE THIRD. 221 "mg that have been invented by my Lord Ches- terfield. Mr. Brisket was a great favourite with his late Majesty George the Third ; and he delights to relate a number of traits characteristic of the good- ness and familiarity displayed by this amiable monarch. His Majesty loved greatly to talk with him on the subject of breeding and feeding cattle ; and he declares, that the King was an uncommonly good judge of the qualities of animals and their value ; and that he was the best practical farmer in the county of Berks. Among other anecdotes which Mr. Brisket related, was the following : — His late Majesty was not particularly easy of access to persons in high life ; and he seldom, I believe, admitted any per- son, however distinguished for birth or talents, in a familiar manner to his table. But he was extremely fond of entering into conversation with the lower and middle ranks of society ; and few individuals of this description resided long in the neighbour- hood of Windsor without having, at some time or other, held discourse with King George the Third. % Some years ago," said Mr. Brisket, "there 222 KING GEORGE was a boy in my employment in the capacity of a shepherd. He was a thick-set, sun-burnt, sturdy fellow, about 10 years old, with coarse features, and a bristly red head of hair, ' and each particu- lar hair did stand on end like quills upon the" fret- ful porcupine.' One sultry summer's day, while he was seated on a bank near the road-side, watch- ing his flock with a book in his hand, the King happened to be walking that way unattended, which was frequently the case at that period. His Majesty marched up to the boy and thus accosted him : < What, what, what book is that V The lit- tle red-headed urchin gruffly replied, ' A spelling- 6 book !' — c Ay, Dyche, Dyche, Dyche, a good 6 author ! Can you spell ?' c A little.' — i Let's hear * you try,' said the King, as he took the book from the boy. " It must have been curious to see the monarch of a great empire assuming the character of a country pedagogue, with a spelling-book in his hand, and hearing the ragged churl his lesson, s Can you spell 6 two syllables? ' — < Yes, I can.' — < Come then, let ' us see, let us see ; Abbot !' — c A-b ab, b-o-t, bot, 6 Abbot.' — ' Good boy, good boy ! Crimson P— « C-r-i-m, crim, c-o-n, son, Crimson.' — < Ay, that THE THIRD. 223 € will do, that will do — Can you read as well as you ' can spell ? Do you go to school ? Can you read « the Bible ?? " ' My mother is too poor to send me to school ; ' and she has got only a piece of a Bible, which is 6 so torn, and the leaves so dirty and dog's-eared, ' that we can't make it out at all. 1 " ■ That's pity, pity, pity ! What's her name ? 6 Where does she live P 1 " 6 Her name is Hannah Potts, and she lives in fi Dirty-foot lane.' " The King took out a pencil and wrote down the name and address, and departed, to the great dis- appointment of the rude and surly young shepherd; who, with the cunning peculiar to some in low life, pretended to be ignorant of the King's person, when at the same time he knew very well to whom he was talking. " On his Majesty's return to the Castle, he called for the Gentleman who then acted as his private and confidential secretary, and said, S There 6 is great want of education amongst the poor * people in our neighbourhood : — This ought not i to be. This packet must be delivered according < to the direction, and the woman must be expressly 224 KING GEORGE. 1 told that the book is a gift from ourselves, as a 6 reward for her perseverance in teaching her son ' to read. Her circumstances must also be enquir- c ed into, and her children sent to school.' " The monarch put a five-pound note into a common printed Bible, and wrote with his own hand upon the title-page, * The gift of George It. to Hannah Potts,' adding the day of the month and the date of the year. The King then delivered it to the gentleman with these words, * Let this be sent immediately ; for it is our wish, ' that every subject in these realms should be able « to read the Bible.' " This poor woman has been offered, at various times, since his Majesty's decease, considerable sums of money for this precious volume, which she as constantly refuses to sell, and often de- clares that * she will never part from it while she lives ; and that, if it please God, she will die with it under her pillow.'' " Frequently as I have since been at Windsor in cus- tody of my various possessors, I have seldom visited it except with renewed delight, and never without Gray's beautiful Ode recurring to my memory ; the first verse of which is so peculiarly appropri- WINDSOR CASTLE. 225 ate to the prospect from the terrace, as to compel every person of taste to repeat it aloud, while look- ing down upon Eton College : " Ye distant spires, ye antique towers, That crown the wat'ry glade, Where grateful science still adores Her Henry's holy shade ! And ye, that from the stately brow Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along His silver winding way." No surprise ought to be excited at the circum- stance of ethereal beings, like myself, treasuring up the effusions of soul-ennobling poesy : For all of us, however modified and confined, watch over the thoughts, words, ' and actions of a poet, with peculiar interest and affection. As we ascended the steep to the castle, we looked into St. George's chapel, that beautiful receptacle of the mighty dead. But, alas .' not- withstanding all the pomp and pageantry of hu- man woe, exhibited in depositing the bodies of monarch s and their nearest connections in those superb inclosures, the career of each was soon terminated, and the sole chronicler of the x,3 226 WINDSOR AND very existence of some of them is a hie jacet. This reflection is acknowledged by mortals to be true, and they see vanity inscribed on all terrestrial glory; yet each generation tries to surpass that which preceded it in the pursuit of quickly-fading honours. There is, however, some- thing so awfully pleasing even in the precincts of this hallowed dome, as to cause a holy influence to pervade the heart and to affect the feelings. When we entered the Round Tower, it occurred to one of the company, that here that high-born bard, the all-accomplished Surrey, poured forth his love-sick lays to the beautiful Geraldine ; and when they gazed from the window of that noble apartment in the castle which overlooks the enchant- ing lawn beneath, it seemed a theatre worthy of the gorgeous tilts and tournaments of ancient times. Indeed, in what direction soever this magnificent structure, and the surrounding scenery are contem- plated, the spectator is almost compelled to exclaim : " This is a residence truly worthy of a king r From the interior of the castle we entered that part of the grounds to which the public have been admitted only since the death of Queen Charlotte . and those beautifully-adorned slopes^ where nature ITS VICINITY. 227 has been so judiciously and so tastefully assisted by art, can only be excelled by the hanging-gardens which flourish in Eastern story. From thence we proceeded through the grounds at Frogmore, to the Great Park, where a stag, the proudest of his herd, bounded boldly onwards before us, with that elegance and elasticity of mo- tion peculiar to his kind. The notch in his nodding antlers proclaimed him of superior race ; for he had once escaped with life from the royal hounds, and was now allowed to range at large, privileged and unmolested. He turned his head round, and with a bend of his graceful neck cast a look of proud defiance behind him, which seemed to say, " Pass on ! I fear you not.'" Those who have been on this spot for the first time, cannot but be struck with the mighty gran- deur of the oaks, which, if one may form a judg- ment by their magnitude, must have been rooted there for ages, whilst the inhabitants of the earth have, race after race, mouldered into kindred dust, and with few exceptions are forgotten, as if they had never been. But even these branching and magnifi- cent records of ancient days, which are now flou- rishing, must wither and decay; for Herne's 228 AXECDOTE. Oak, which Shakespeare has immortalized, is no longer to be seen. I never behold one of these gorgeous monarchs of the forest, but I consider how much his kind are indebted to the man who plants an acorn. It must be an act of pure disin- terestedness, for unborn ages alone can receive the full benefit of his care and forethought. There are some characters, whatever may be their situation in life, whose conversational powers seem like the gift of inspiration ; but, on closer examination, it will be found, that good common sense alone forms the essence of their discourse, which, delivered with an air of urbanity, adds a charm to all their remarks. This was exemplified in Mr. Brisket towards his London friends, during this morning's ramble. Amongst a variety of local information, he entertained them with the follow- ing anecdote. The summer before last, a royal and noble party of visitors at the cottage determined to amuse themselves with fishing, on that beautiful little lake Virginia Water; and a certain gentleman, whose corpulency has often served as a butt, and who has very rapidly risen from a humble nautical situation to a place at Court, had, in the true style of an INGENIOUS RAILLERY. 229 ambitious man, over-reached himself, and tumbled headlong out of his boat. Though he was no swimmer, he contrived, by paddling with his hands like a dog, to keep his head above water, and to cry lustily for help. At length a gentleman in one of the boats, with great presence of mind, threw a net over the drowning man, and dragged him ashore, with no other detriment than a fright and a ducking. After the company had recovered from their alarm, they rallied the corpulent sufferer most unmercifullv. A nobleman said, " he had " given evident proofs that he was not born to be " drowned." And a facetious Countess observed : " Your preservation, dear Sir, appears quite mira- " culous. I can compare your admirable buoyancy " in the water to nothing more appropriately than " to that of a cork, which, however deeply im- " mersed, quickly rises again to the surface. But " this is not the only circumstance in your life, " which is to be solved on a principle common both " to a cork and yourself — a native 'propensity to rise " in the world T* — The gentleman, who is exceedingl y witty, instantly replied, " Your ladyship must " therefore allow, that, while in the water, / was " not out of my element /" 230 ASCOT-HEATH. When we had finished our morning's excursion, the party set out once more for Ascot-heath. As my master passed the stand, he was accosted by a gentleman, who said, " Well, Brisket, what sport " are we likely to have to day ?" — " Very little, Sir ; " the horses are not well-matched; the odds are " much in favour of the bay mare : and I'll bet " you two to one on her against the field — that is, " a cool hundred to fifty." — u No, no, Mr. Bris- " ket, you are far beyond my mark. I never " wager more than a guinea : so, if you like, 111 " bet you an even sovereign, the field against the " bay mare." — " Done P said the butcher who grasped the gentleman's hand, and departed. The odds were so much in favour of the mare, that Mr. Brisket could find no one to sport his money with ; and lucky was it for him, that this opinion was so prevalent, for she fell lame the second heat and lost the race. He then rode up to the Stand, and paid me into the hand of Mr. Trundle, a coach- maker from London, and I parted from my gene- rous Knight of the Steel, with much regret, for he was a gentleman by nature, the prince of good fel- lows, and the soul of hospitality and honour. CHAPTER XXIV. MR. WILY THE CORONATION AIR BALLOON- CHANGE OF POSSESSORS, &C For a considerable period I passed through a variety of hands of such a common-place descrip- tion as to make little impression upon my memory. My existence became dull and monotonous; I forgot names, dates, and circumstances ; and lost all trace of time, till I found myself one evening in July, in the Mail coach, in the possession of Mr. Wily , a Yorkshire gentleman, who was com- ing up from Rotherham to be present at the Coro- nation. Two or three days previous to the ceremony, he walked down to the intended scene of splen- dour, and examined the mighty preparations which were making, for the grand display, and for the accommodation of the public. Unfortunately, great losses fell upon almost every individual who 232 THE CORONATION. speculated in the erection of galleries and stands for spectators, which were sufficiently ample to contain at least a hundred thousand persons. But this must be ascribed, in a great measure, to their own cupidity : — The prices which were asked, prevented moderate people from attempting to obtain a view of the procession, drove many per- sons away from the metropolis, and deterred hun- dreds of others from entering it. A considerable number of places were at first let at as high a rate as twenty, ten, and Jive guineas, for each seat. But my new master was too cautious to be in a violent hurry about such an affair, and, on the evening of the 18th of July, 1821, he secured an excellent situation for twenty shillings, directly opposite to the door of Westminster Hall. Mr. Wily was a man of considerable property, and seemed to live for himself alone ; for he was scarcely ever seen with a companion. It was difficult to ascertain his real sentiments upon any topic, as he was seldom known to have given an opinion. The sound of his voice was not fre- quently heard, except on particular occasions, when his lips inadvertently suffered a solitary monosyllable to escape. He was perfectly hide- THE CORONATION. 233 pendent, being a bachelor, and living within his income. Never intruding himself into the secrets of other people, and rarely asking a question, he did not relish the practice of other people intrud- ing themselves into his concerns. He was neither rude nor polished, — more singular than selfish ; yet, on account of his reserve and taciturnity, his neighbours considered him unfeeling when he did not merit the imputation : For he performed many an act of real benevolence in his own odd and quiet way. Abhorring ostentation, he was pro- voked if any body surprised him in the fact of relieving the distressed. This quiet creature went, at dawn of day, on the 1 9th of July, and occupied a seat in the gal- lery, for which he had paid the preceding evening. Well was it for those who imitated his example : For he had scarcely adjusted himself, when a bulky female came and squatted down by his side, while she muttered, that she had paid a high price for her seat, and was determined to keep it. " You " know, Sir," she added as soon as she was seated, u possession is nine points of the law." — " Then I f should think, madam," replied Mr. Wily, squar- 234j the coronation. ing his elbows for a little more room, " you are " perfectly secure, for you have already obtained " at least nine points and a half." He was a complete contrast to this lady : Natu- rally pale, tall, and thin, he appeared still more so when near her, who was rosy, short, and stout, or in vulgar terms, " as broad as she was long." Mrs. Dory was a fishmonger's wife, from Norton Falgate. She was not an active person, yet her tongue was seldom idle, and her volubility was more than a match for Mr. Wily's taciturnity. Throughout the morning her discourse was chiefly directed to him, and she gave no quarter. I heard him de- clare his belief, that he had never talked so much in one day since he was five years old. She was accompanied by her son Master John Dory, a boy about ten years of age, dressed in nankeen pantaloons and a scarlet jacket, with an enormous cravat tied in a true-loverVknot under his chin. He was an only child, and the spoiled pet of his mother, who had paid four guineas for a seat for her darling, and ten for herself, because " she would have folks to know that she did not " mind money, and she thought it right for her THE CORONATION. 235 t{ son Jackey to see the coronation, that he might " be able to talk of it in his old age when he had *' passed the sieve-wick chair." The party assembled in this gallery or stand, which communicated with the second floor of the house, were genteel and respectable people ; and after some warm altercation at first about the right to particular places, they all seemed disposed to associate agreeably together, like passengers in the same ship. The early hours of the morning passed heavily along : The spectators were drowsy and dull ; and the military, who had beeen upon duty all night, were most of them, officers as well as men, stretch- ed out upon the patting of the raised platform, reposing themselves in various attitudes, as in former days when at a bivouac. Many of them were fast asleep, when a sudden cry of " the Queen ! the Queen ! the Queen !" ran tremulously through the crowd. The soldiers instantly flew to arms, and cleared the platform from intruders with unceremonious expedition. I felt agitated and alarmed ; for all the horrors of the French Revolution, of which I had often heard, flitted before my imagination : Indeed, when a popular 236 THE CORONATION. tumult once begins, no one knows where it will terminate. This fluttering sensation, perceptible to no one except myself, had not subsided when her Majesty made her appearance. She descended from her carriage immediately opposite to the place occupied by our party, and, addressing herself to the Officer of the Blue Royals, who was there upon duty, she demanded admittance, which was firmly but po- litely refused. She then proceeded towards an open door in a partition behind the Champion's stables, which, she was induced to believe, would have conducted her to an entrance into the Hall, from the side next the river, but which really led to the Speaker's house, where the King happened then to be. When the Queen approached within a few paces of this door, it was abruptly closed. She then retraced her steps back to her carriage : and, as she was not greeted with the acclamations to which she had been accustomed, her livid coun- tenance, quivering lip, and angry eye, bespoke the perturbation of her spirits. Who was it that could be weak or wicked enough to advise a Princess of the House of Brunswick, to place herself in circumstances THE CORONATION. 237 at once humiliating and ridiculous? Had the former tumultuous clamour of applauding thou« sands rendered her deaf to the counsel of her wiser friends? But though I could not applaud her behaviour, I pitied her situation : for she was a Queen and a woman. No lengthened comment is ne- cessary, since it will be the province of the historian to dilate upon this extraordinary transaction, My master did not utter a word, but with a sarcastic curl of his nose, and as comical a sneer, crave leoi- ble tokens of the sense which he entertained of this unfortunate intrusion. Her Majesty quickly disappeared from Palace-yard, and the business of the day met no further interruption. Mr. Wily was acquainted with a gentleman who acted as attendant upon one of the peers, and, through his means, obtained a peep into the Hall, while the magnificent host was in a course of being marshalled. The splendour and brilliancy of the spectacle exhibited beneath that hio-h and spacious roof, dazzled my senses. As it has been detailed in the public prints a hundred times, I shall not attempt a description. Yet, like all other authors, I suppose my work will be read when those ephemeral accounts are all forgotten : I shall 238 THE CORONATION. therefore make a few remarks for the benefit of posterity. When Mr. Wily returned to his original seat, his patience was put to the severest test, for Mrs. Dory assailed him with a thousand questions. The curiosity of the spectators was, by many hours'* long delay, worked up to the highest pitch of expectation; and, about half-past ten o'clock, the Honourable Miss Fellowes made her appear- ance on the platform, to all appearance most per- fectly satisfied with the part she had to perform. Master Jackey was the first to make any re- mark, " Law, Mamma ! Is that Ophelia strewing " flowers upon the stage ?" " No, my dear, that's " the King's Yerb-woman and her six maids of " honour: are not they, Sir?" said the lady, address- ing herself to Mr. Wily. — " As far as any thing " I know to the contrary, Ma'am," was the reply. " My goodness !" exclaimed Mrs. Dory, " won- " ders and wiseacres will never cease ! if there " ben't the two Aldermen W.s marching before " the King ! And see, see, Jackey ! there's your " old acquaintance, the Alderman of Portsoken " Ward, with all his blushing honours flushing in " his face !" THE CORONATION. 239 When she had exhausted her terms of admira- tion upon the beautiful costume of the Knights of the Bath, the Marquis of L — came in sight ; and as he was the only Knight of the Garter, who was not a Prince or a Peer of the realm, he walked by himself in the superb dress of that noble order. and undoubtedly was one of the most elegant and conspicuous personages in the procession. He seemed extremely well-pleased, and he certainly had a right to be proud of the high station which he held in the councils of the nation, and in the confidence of his sovereign. The lady from Nor- ton Falgate declared that she had never seen any man who had made such an impression upon her, with the exception of her dear Mr. Dory before he was married. She then became so overcome with wonder as, for a time, to be astonished into silence. Mr. Wily had consequently a little respite ; but, im- mediately after the Regalia, she espied the chief Magistrate of the City, and exclaimed, " See, " Jackey, see ! there's the Lord Mayor ! Don't " you see his gold chain ! You are to be Lord " Mayor, you know, one of these days, my dear ! 240 THE CORONATION. M — Pray, Sir, who is that pretty young man with " a long train of purple behind him ?' 1 " It is Prince Leopold, ma'am. 1 ' The manner of this Prince was particularly dignified and grace- ful ; but his deportment was serious and inclining to sadness, as if reflecting on those who were departed. He is entitled to high consideration on account of the relation in which he stands to the reigning family, — as relict of the lamented Prin- cess Charlotte, the late heiress to the throne, — as uncle to the young Princess Victoria, the Duke of Kent's infant daughter, who is now in a direct line very few removes from the succession. As natu- ral guardian of his sister's child, he must always of course have an influence over her mind : It is therefore impossible to conjecture what important part he may be destined hereafter to perform in the government of these realms. The Royal Dukes, with their train-bearers, came next in view. The King then appeared on the platform, with all the great officers of state, bearing the paraphernalia of royalty around him, as he stepped forward from under the canopy borne by the Barons of the Cinque Ports. This THE CORONATION. 241 part of the procession was grand beyond the con- ception of those who did not witness it ; and was a gorgeous exhibition of the pomp and pageantry of royal magnificence. Directly at the angle where the platform inclined from the Hall-door, a slight degree of interrup- tion occurred in the order of march, and the King stopped nearly a minute, exactly opposite to our gallery. His Majesty looked around him with evident marks of exultation, and surprise at the splendid display of spectators in all directions, particularly in the front of the houses on the ter- race in Palace-yard. " Look, Sir," said Mrs. Dory, " did you ever " see such a graceful bow as that in all your life ? " Jackey, my dear, kiss your hand to the King ; " I declare his Royal Majesty is bowing to us with " both his hands ! Lord love him ! How conde- " scending that is ! My dear boy, you shall " practise that bow to your papa, when you go " home." She gazed after the royal groupe till thev gradually disappeared, when she exclaimed, " Well, do you know, Sir, this exhibition will " save me a great deal of money ; for I shall not VOL. I. M S4# THE CORONATION; " wish to see any other sight for these twelve- " months to come." I was not sorry that Mr. Wily did not proceed into the Abbey ; for some parts of the ceremony* which are celebrated within its sacred walls, do not accord with my spiritual feelings. It is ex- tremely proper that the sovereign and his subjects should enter into a solemn and religious compact, and that the Peers should swear fealty and do homage to their King ; yet I cannot think it alto^ gether seemly, that the most sacred rites of the Christian Religion, whose very essence is humility, should be administered in the midst of the gaudy insignificance of human grandeur. Others, however, may consider the kneeling posture in which royalty receives the sacred emblems from the Archbishop's hands, as well fitted to remind the Monarch, even when he is surrounded by all the attributes of earthly splendour, that in the presence of the King of kings, he is but as an atom of dust. I am no friend to innovation ; and perhaps it may be better to submit to what is not absolutely perfect, than to be perpetually subject to the whimsical alterations of every capricious individual who may be desi- rous of introducing novelty. We know, indeed, THE conoxATioy. 243 what the one is, but we do not know what the other might be. The newspapers have detailed the variety of arrangements which were made for the amusement of the people on that day of general relaxation ; and it is most gratifying to reflect, that not a sin- gle accident occurred in the celebration of this joyful event, which is, I trust, a fortunate prog- nostication of the happiness which the subjects of King George the Fourth may hope to enjoy under his mild and auspicious reign. Mr. Wily did not follow the procession into the Abbey ; but, as he was one of those who wish to see the most for their money, he proceeded in the interval into the Green Park, and obtained an excellent view of the ascension of Mr. Green, the Aeronaut. A balloon is, perhaps, the most daring of all human inventions ; and the sensation on beholding a fellow-creature soaring into the regions of mid air, till he becomes at length lost to the eye of man, is so blended with the awful and sublime, as to be, in reality, a more imposing spectacle than even a Coronation. But, unfortunately for the bold ad- venturer, it can be seen without remuneration : m 2 244 AIR-BALLOON. and it is of more utility to the light-fingered gentry than to any other class of his Majesty's subjects. Nothing can suit their purposes better ; and, it must be owned, they never fail to take a due advan- tage of such a glorious opportunity. On this occasion they were too cunning even for my careful Yorkshire friend, who gazed upwards till the balloon was dwindled to a speck, being at one time lost behind a cloud, and, in a moment, emerging again into view, with a sun-beam glitter- ing on its side. His eyes were strained in looking after it ; but he was suddenly brought back to the notice of sublunary things, by discovering, that both the pockets of his breeches were turned inside out ; for I had passed, as if by magic, into the hands of the ingenious Bill Crick. CHAPTER XXV. EDUCATION OF YOUNG THIEVES MR. CRINGER, THE BLIND IMPOSTOR MR. GARNISH. The change in possessors which I had recently experienced was but the work of a moment : For I was conveyed away with such professional ease and celerity, as shewed the hand of an adept, and rendered the transfer imperceptible to Mr. Wily. I now became acquainted with scenes, the recol- lection of which makes me shudder. It would not be advantageous to the rising generation to fami- liarize their minds with the detail of gross and indecent acts of depravity ; for the purity of the innocent mind is, in a certain degree, contaminated merely by the knowledge that such crimes are perpetrated : these pages, therefore, shall not be stained with those broad and disgusting features of licentiousness, the exhibition of which is called "a 246 EDUCATION OF knowledge of real life.'" But the notices of what I have seen, shall be expressed in general terms, and dismissed with the observation, that such things are, such things ought not to be, yet they are suffered to exist. But I flatter myself, that the energy of the present police-establishment of Lon- don will soon rectify these flagrant abuses. William Crick was a thin cadaverous little wretch, of nine years old. His parents were of the most worthless description, the one a well-known thief, and the other a low and abandoned prosti- tute. It was not to be expected that such beings could have much affection for their offspring, whom they regarded in no other light than as a youthful candidate for the gallows ; and all their care respecting him was, to make as much of him as possible at the earliest opportunity. From the time when he was three months' old, he was fre- quently let out at a certain sum per day, to a very decent and respectable-looking woman, who tried to excite compassion by the infant helplessness and apparently starving condition of two or three miserable children : What parent could turn away from such a scene without leaving a contribution? The excellent Mendicity Society has done much YOUNG THIEVES. 247 to rid the public of these impositions upon their feelings, but much still remains undone. At the age of seven, this child of iniquity was sold by his parents, for three guineas and a half and a pint of gin, to a person, who from his bloated countenance is distinguished by the appel- lation of Doctor Brazen-nose. He resides in a large old-fashioned house, in the neighbourhood of Bethnal Green, which he has fitted up as an aca- demy for the education of thieves. He is punc- tual in the payment of rent and taxes ; and, on his taking possession of the premises, he intimated his intention of establishing a business in which a number of boys would be employed: It is very humiliating to be obliged to allow, that the abandoned little miscreants, who are occasionally seen emerging from this school of vice, have quite as respectable an appearance as many of the poor diminutive creatures that are doomed to dwindle out their existence in the corrupt atmosphere of some manufactories. The proprietor of this esta- blishment says, that he gives offence to no one, keeps a quiet house, pays his way, and confidently relies on the protection of the law. He always purchases his subjects from their parents, that he 248 EDUCATION OF may have full and uncontrolled dominion over their persons. The order, strictness, and regularity, observed in their discipline, would be worthy of imitation in more respectable seminaries. When the young ones are first brought to the house, they are in- structed in every branch of their art, by their seniors in dexterity, much after the Lancasterian plan of education. Those who have attained to a particular degree of excellence, have two or three younger pupils placed under their care, for whose progress and conduct they are responsible both at home and abroad. The rules of the house are observed with inflexible pertinacity ; and the slightest breach of order is punished with shocking barbarity; sufficient care being always taken to prevent the cries of the sufferers from being heard in the surrounding neighbourhood. When they are sent out in small bands, it is rarely that any of them escape from the vigilant eye of their moni- tors. Upon extraordinary occasions they are allowed a general jollification, as it is called ; when, notwithstanding their juvenility, every species of drunkenness and debauchery is encouraged. After obtaining by their proficiency certain honorary YOUNG THIEVES. 249 distinctions, they are entitled to a portion of their earnings for themselves ; and when they have been a certain period inmates of this house, which they call " Brazen Nose College," gone through the necessary course of studies, and taken the regular Degree of a Master of the Refined Arts, they ob- tain their freedom, and are at liberty to exercise the profession on their own account ; unless they prefer, as some of them do, to domesticate them- selves with the Head of the College, and become partners with the Doctor in joint predatory con- cerns. One of the regulations of this thievish com- munity, which is never in any instance omitted, is the institution of a strict personal search of each of the collegians on his return home every even- ing. This anticipated ordeal induces the lads to invent a variety of schemes to elude the vigilance of their monitors, and to defraud the master of his iniquitous perquisites. The moment when Bill Crick, my enterprising young possessor, had relieved Mr. Wily of his superfluous cash, he hastened into St. James's Park, and placed me, as the share of the spoil set apart for himself, in a hole of the wall not far from the is a 250 A BLIXD IMPOSTOR. German Chapel. He filled up the cavity with a piece of loose brick, and left me, as he thought, in a place of security till he might have an oppor- tunity of paying me another visit. But, alas ! how often are the best-concerted human plans frustrated by the most unexpected means ! The whole transaction was observed by a blind ma?i, who was passing that way with a little boy for his guide ; and no sooner had Mas- ter Crick departed, than the impostor went up to the spot where I was deposited, and I found my- self very coolly transferred into the pocket of Mr. Cringer, who was a beggar by profession, and probably considered himself a very honest and industrious character. I was taken by Mr. Cringer to the residence of a person who keeps an old clothes shop, in a street near the Seven Dials : It has the appearance of many other shops of the same description in this intricate neighbjurhood, but it is in reality a depot of the most extensive nature, — a masquerade ware- house for all sorts of dresses and disguises for mendicants, swindlers and thieves of both sexes. The premises have a communication with a dwell- ing-house, whose front is situated in a different A BLIND IMPOSTOR. 251 street ; and as it is supposed to be inhabited by a private family who let lodgings, the variety of well-dressed Ladies and Gentlemen who are occa- sionally seen coming out, excites little or no suspi- cion. My master left his blind beggar's apparel in the warehouse ; and, with the full use of his eyes, issued forth from the private door of this emporium of deception, where individuals of the vilest description are metamorphosed into the ap- pearance of characters totally different from their own, and are thus enabled to carry on their depre- dations at all public places, but particularly at our modern masquerades, with unparalleled audacity and effect : For if they escape instant detection, it is almost impossible to identify their persons. Mr. Cringer was now accoutred in the neat and plain habiliments of a man who might be supposed to live respectably upon his income. He rented a small but genteel house in a new street, in the vicinity of Edgeware Road. A reputable-looking female, an officer's widow in decayed circumstances, acted as housekeeper to this gentleman, who was considered by her and by the persons in the neigh- bourhood as a man of property who had some 252 AN IMPOSTOR connection with the Stock Exchange, whither he was supposed daily to resort ; for he always went out immediately after breakfast, and seldom returned until the dusk of the evenino;. He had an only child, Miss Amelia Cringer, who was educated at a fashionable boarding-school at Richmond, where she learned all the variety of accomplishments which are taught at that expen- sive establishment. He was doatingly fond of this girl, and was not satisfied unless he went two or three times in the course of the half-year to see her at school ; but even in those excursions of pleasure he did not entirely lose sight of his voca- tion. He was extremely liberal to his daughter and her young companions ; and had more than once made a remark in the presence of the gover- ness, " that if ever he changed his condition in " life, he should prefer a lady who had superin- " tended the education of young people ;" and, as he was thought to be a rich man, he always found a welcome reception. In his journey to the semi- nary, he seldom deemed it needful to exercise his profession ; but it was his custom, on his return homewards, to retire cautiously into a secluded spot, AND HIS COMPANIONS. 253 at a little distance from the road ; and, in less than two minutes, he turned his coat, waistcoat, and pantaloons, inside out, tied a black handkerchief round his neck, and was completely trimmed in a sailor's jacket and trowsers. Then with the true slang of Jack Junks, who had lost his arm at the battle of Trafalgar, he levied contributions upon the charity of the passengers in his road to the Seven Dials. At the time when I first entered his house with him, Miss Amelia Cringer, a good-looking, fash- ionably-dressed young lady, about sixteen years of age, gracefully saluted her papa. She had come home for a couple of days, for the purpose of going to a ball with her father, who had received an invitation and tickets from a Mr. Garnish, with whom he had lately become acquainted, and who was very anxious to insinuate himself into the good graces of Miss Amelia. Indeed she was generally regarded in the neighbourhood as an heiress, who was deserving of attention. Her father supposed this gentleman to be rich, and did not discourage his pretensions : For he ascertained, that Mr. Garnish had a very respec- 254 HIGH LIFE table cash-account at Hammer sley's, kept his hunter, and appeared like an independent gentle- man ; though he was but a gentleman } s gentleman , or acted the part of maitre dViotel, or house stew- ard, to the Earl of Rosemary, in Portman-square. He had been some years with the late Earl, who spent part of his early life in India, where he acquired habits of profusion, of which honest Mr. Garnish had not failed to take due advantage. Even in the present Lord's time, vast sums of money passed through his hands, which he added to his stock of cash at the banker's, and save checks in his own name in payment of the trades- men's bills, &c. Thus he was regarded as a monied man, though in reality his wealth was merely nominal, consisting more of shadow than of substance ; but he contrived to make it appear considerable in the eyes of the wary mendicant. The ball at which the young lady was to ap- pear, was held at a suite of elegant rooms, built by subscription, adjoining to the Crown Tavern, in Paddington. Those apartments were called the House of LordSy and were supported chiefly by BELOW STAIRS. 255 the upper servants of the nobility, who were joint proprietors of them, and a select number of whom were appointed as managers and directors of the evening s entertainment. These personages were generally chosen from those who were in the ser- vice of the most ancient families of the nobility, with some others resident with the great officers of state, or with noblemen who were very fashionable or very rich ; and it was the province of Mr. Gar- nish, on that evening, to preside as Master of the Ceremonies. Tickets, at One Guinea each, admitted a gentleman and two ladies, and entitled the party to refreshments. No one was allowed to be pre- sent, who was not introduced or recommended by one of the directors. No money could obtain ad- mission for other people ; and the most scrupulous care was employed to exclude " low or improper company/ 1 It was highly amusing to see this assemblage of second-hand nobility, these mock patricians, assuming the titles of their employers. dressed in the same style of fashion as their betters, the men displaying a much greater portion of self- sufficiency than their Lords, and many of the vul- gar and affected Abigails decorated in the bor- %56 HIGH LIFE rowed plumes, and even in the jewels of their noble mistresses ! Miss Amelia C ringer had a diamond necklace of her own ; and was regarded with no small degree of envy, as the future Mrs. Garnish. In addition to this little epitome of Almack's, there were accommodations adjoining to the ball-room, for those who did not chuse to sport their figures in waltzes or quadrilles — for country-dances were altogether exploded : In those quiet recesses the parties could amuse themselves with cards and games of chance ; and hundreds of pounds, not their own, were won and lost by these elegant " sons of independence, 11 as they call themselves, with as much sangfroid as is usually displayed in St. James 1 s-street. Whilst Miss Cringer was engaged with a new partner, Mr. Garnish entertained her papa with a rubber at whist, and lost about fifteen pounds with perfect indifference, when he threw down a bank-note for twenty pounds with the air of a Lord, and pocketed me as part of his change, without the least discomposure of feature. He afterwards resumed his station in the next quad- BELOW STAIltS. 257 rille, and kept it up until a late hour in the morning, when he saw the fair Amelia to her carriage, changed his dress, mounted his horse, and arrived at Datchet, time enough to be in at- tendance upon my Lord Rosemary when he rose from his pillow at the usual hour. CHAPTER XXVI. THE ORIGIN AND HABITS OF THE EARL OF ROSE- MARY HIS SON, LORD LAVENDER LADY BELL. I now found myself at his Lordship's villa at Datchet, where he frequently retired to relax from the weighty business of the State ; for he fancied that the whole responsibility of government rested on his shoulders, while, in fact, he was only a Right Honourable passive instrument of those who really guided the national helm. This nobleman was a younger brother of the late Earl of Rose- mary ; who when a very young man had gone out to India, where he amassed vast riches, and, at his return, purchased a large estate in Cornwall, with which he acquired so much interest in more than one borough in the immediate vicinity, as to be able to command several votes in a certain honourable assembly. Being a man of talents and possessing some ambition, he rendered himself sufficiently LORD ROSEMARY. 259 important to be considered a desirable acquisition to the administration of that day; and after effi- ciently filling a subordinate station in the ministry for several years, he was created a Baron, and an Earl when he retired from office. His father, Mr. Lemuel Lavender, was an honest and industrious cordwainer, in a little town in Staf- fordshire. The present Lord had been bred up to his parent's occupation, who was so bigotted to it as to name this younger son, " Crispin," in honour of the tutelary Saint of the craft. Crispin mar- ried the daughter of Mr. Whipham, the school- master of the town. Though her personal charms were the theme of universal admiration, she was an unaffected amiable woman, and had taken great pains with the education of her children, a son and daughter. But she had departed this life long before her husband entertained the most dis- tant idea of arriving at the honours of the peerage. For the late Lord, his brother, had three sons, by a lady whom he married in India, and who died shortly after bringing the youngest into the world. These young men, after attaining the age of man- hood, were successively cut off within a few years of each other. Only one of them w " So says the Morning Post ;" said my Lord Lavender, reading as follows: — " It is positively " asserted that Lady W. D., a dashing gay spinster " 9f forty eight, has absconded with a well-known " veteran in gallantry of the age erf eighteen? CONVERSATION. 271 " I wish, my Lord Lavender, you would have " done with such frivolous insipidities : for, they " are beneath the dignity of a Nobleman's atten- " tion." " I beg your pardon, my Lord Rosemary ; " these little interesting innuendoes add a zest to " the morning's repast. We relish scandal, like " cream to our tea ; and demolish characters, and " bread and butter, with the same keenness of " appetite." Here they were interrupted by the announce- ment of Mrs. Fallible, a widow lady of fortune, whose residence was within view of the Earl's house at Datchet. She was a liberal benefactress to the funds of a certain chapel, not a hundred miles from Portman- square, which is crowded every Sunday morning by people of the first fashion, who ad- mire the doctrine and eloquence of the Rev. Octavius Octagon. Whilst this reverend gentle- man subscribes to the Thirty Nine Articles, and uses the Liturgy of the Established Church, he has a peculiar creed of his own, upon which he has set up for himself, and a very profitable spe- culation it has been. He is what is termed, " a popular preacher," but is literally a clerical cox- 27£ THE REV. O. OCTAGON. comb, who, with his white cambric handkerchief, and with the diamond ring on his lily-white hand, indulges A silly fond conceit of his fair form And just proportion, fashionable mien And pretty face, in presence of his God ! My spiritual nature reverences the pure prin- ciples of religion, and I honour those who are professors for conscience'' sake ; but a hypocrite in devotion is my abhorrence. The method which the Rev. Mr. Octagon pur- sues in his pulpit, is attractive and ingenious. In soft and silken phraseology, he deals condemna- tion around on all those whom he judges to be his foes, on account of their aversion to the lax inter- pretation of the Gospel which he is in the habit of giving. But to those of his hearers who place their faith in his hands, he promises eternal salva- tion upon very polite and easy terms, such as no man of fashion can attempt to decline. He is followed as an enlightened guide, by a number of rich old ladies, some of them Dowagers, and others only spinsters who have passed their grand climac- teric. By fashionable saints of this class his chapel is crowded, and his pockets are well filled. MRS. FALLrBLE. 273 Mrs. Fallible had seen the Earl at this modish place of worship, more than once ; and a thought had suddenly passed her mind, (such vanities will occasionally assail the best,) that if she could work upon his Lordship's religious sensibilities, she might obtain an affectionate share in his regards : For there were stranger things in her code of be- lief, than the possibility of her becoming the Coun- tess of Rosemary. In accordance with the prin- ciple of that vagrant thought, which she had often unsuccessfully tried to chase away, this visit was paid, in order to ingratiate herself with Lady Bell, as a preliminary step to the good graces of the Earl. She was a contributor to a vast number of public charities, in the lists of which her name was sure to appear with great prominence. Herself an early riser and a great economist of time and of provisions, she wished her servants to imitate her example ; and what was saved by pinching them and herself, was bestowed on the poor. She had her pensioners daily in attendance at her gate, which was only a few paces from the public road. It is hard to judge rashly concerning those deeds which are apparently virtuous ; but all this wa? n a 274 FASHIONABLE done almost at the very door of the Earl of Rose- mary. As a spirit, I could easily see through the thin disguise of the ostensible motive. Indeed, it was so obvious to the penetrating eye of Lady Bell, that, with all her good-nature, she could not refrain from regarding Mrs. Fallible with a de- gree of aversion bordering on contempt ; and, as soon as she entered, Lord Lavender threw himself at full length upon the sofa and pretended to be fast asleep. After the usual salutations of the day, she said, she had come to induce her Ladyship to honour her humble abode with her presence in the even- ing, to a concert, in a quiet domestic way. Her Ladyship replied, " I thank you for your " politeness, Mrs. Fallible, but I have an engage- " ment with Lady Di Dash, at the Opera, to-night, " and I would not give it up for the world I" " I fear, my Lady, that is not exactly the high " road to Heaven." " If not, it is the Elysium of all earthly amuse- " ments. Besides, you have no occasion to attend " to the performance ; and you may talk as loud w as you please, without fear of reproof?'' " I cannot but think, Lady Bell," said her CONVERSATION. 275 father, " that you would consult your dignity more, " if you talked less." " Give me liberty of speech, my Lord, and I'll " leave dignity to you and the privy council.— " Pray, Mrs. Fallible, when were you last at « Almack's ?" , " I seldom go, my Lady ; for I never waltz.' 1 " O exquisite delirium ! delightful as the intox- " ication of an opium-eater ! We absolutely swim " in pleasure, while others look on." " I consider the place, my Lady, as but a refined " school of fashionable gallantry." " The whole system of modern gallantry is, " doubtless, greatly refined ; for you know, Mrs. " Fallible, that middle-aged gentlemen and ladies " are now all the rage." " Indeed . f then there are some hopes" — " None, I am afraid, for me, for twenty years Y to come. And, seriously, I do think we young " people are very much to be pitied." " So we are, Bell, both male and female," said my Lord Lavender, with his eyes half shut and his mouth half open, " I think I have some tolerable " requisites myself; but, upon my honour, I stand c< no chance since the veteran corps has taken- the 276 FASHIONABLE " field. However, my dear Mrs. Fallible, it saves " me an immensity of trouble, which, you know, " I abominate" — and he instantly relapsed into his former recumbent position. " Well," said Mrs. Fallible, "my fear is, Lady " Bell, that both you and my Lord Lavender are " incorrigible ; but if the Earl of Rosemary " would honour my little cottage with a visit''* — " I am engaged to meet my Lord Eow-at-court, " on particular business, this evening, Maam ; but " some other time I will do myself the honour." She then made her adieus in polite form; and the Earl of Rosemary handed the lady to her carriage. After her departure, Lady Bell addressed her brother in a familiar and affectionate manner : " My dear Lavender, I wish you would drive me " to town this morning. Sir Thomas Lawrence, " after six months' solicitation, has promised to " finish my portrait at another sitting ; and I am " dying to see a true picture of myself." " Ten to one, then, you'll be dissatisfied with " yourself." "Why so?" " Because, my dear Bell, with all the President's CONVERSATION. 277 " skill, he can never furnish you with half so pcr- " feet a picture as you will see in your glass. 1 " " Fie for shame, Lavender ! Your praises will " make me vain. But will you drive me to town F" " Why, you are a tolerable figure for a curricle ; " and I will square my elbows to oblige you. Fit " just go and toiletize myself a little, and then, " sweet lady sister of mine, well be off in the " twirling of a tooth-pick." For, lazy as he was, He oft would boast his matchless skill To curb the steed and guide the wheel ; And as he pass'd the gazing throng, With graceful ease, and smack'd the thong, The ideot wonder they express'd Was praise and transport to his breast* CHAPTER XXVII. SIR OSMYN MORLAND A BATTLE STORY GENE- ROSITY OF A SOLDIER, &C. In the course of the day I found myself at his Lordship's superb mansion in Portman-square, which was furnished with ail that wealth and in- genuity could devise to strike the eye with admi- ration, or that could contribute to the gratification of its inmates, — forming an unrivalled assemblage of what was rare in art and elegant in decoration. The taste of Lord Lavender and his sister was transcendent ; and their father wisely submitted to their judgment, in all matters relative to etiquette and ton, by which means he avoided the display of any vulgarity that naturally adhered to him on account of his original occupation in Stafford- shire. When I saw the beautifully-tapered fingers of LADY B. LAVENDER. £79 Lady Bell, extended to receive me from her father, I felt a sensation similar to what an earthly lover would experience on first touching the hand of the idol of his heart, but my admiration of this charm- ing creature was perfectly in unison with the ethereal purity of my nature. She was somewhat vain ; — and, what female ear was ever averse to flattery ? She was frequently the dupe of her passions, and she had a short-lived warmth in her resentments. But as her faults proceeded from the impetuosity of her feelings, I regarded them merely as foils to her virtues ; and had she been more perfect, I should probably have been less attached to her. In the midst of her gaiety a sigh would some- times escape her ; and I knew, though perhaps she did not, that her heart was not altogether at her own disposal. The next morning, just as she had finished her toilette, a servant announced that Sir Osmyn Mor- land was below ; and instantly a heightened blush suffused her lovely cheeks, and her sparkling eye darted additional fire, as she turned her head over her shoulder to adjust one of her dark brown curls upon her ivory neck, and as she caught a glimpse 280 A BATTLE of her finished form in the glass while she glided out of her dressing-room, fully convinced that there was some truth, as well as partiality, in her brother's complimentary remark. Sir Osmyn Morland was the representative of one of the oldest Baronetcies in the kingdom, and was allied to many of the ancient families of the nobility. He had been a soldier from his youth, and served with the Duke of Wellington in almost all his campaigns. Indeed, he was a cornet in the Fifteenth Regiment of Dragoons, during his Grace's rapid and brilliant career in India. He had been several times wounded, for he was ever foremost in the charge. Whenever he was com- plimented on his military prowess, his modest reply was, " Where the harvest of honour was so ** abundant, it would have been hard indeed if I " could not have gleaned a few straggling laurels " for my share V At the glorious battle of Waterloo, which will be much better appreciated in future ages than it has been in modern times, Sir Osmyn was despe- rately wounded in the memorable charge which the English heavy-horse made upon the French Cui- rassiers, and was left weltering in his blood till the STORY. 281 next morning. Oh " ye gentlemen of England who live at home at ease," — you who know nothing of the evils of warfare, except taxation which keeps it from your own fire-sides, — you unthinking clamorous advocates for war, — could you but view the field of carnage the morning after a battle, and hear the groans of the wounded and the dying, your hearts, callous as they too often appear, would sicken within you ; and you would with shuddering exclaim, u Good God ! must victory be purchased with horrors such as these ?" Sir Osmyn had fainted on falling from his horse, and he had lain a long time insensible till the blood from his wounds had coagulated and ceased to flow. The moon shone with splendour at inter- vals during the night ; and the first moment when he again became conscious of existence, his thirst was intolerable, and he felt as if his vitals were burning coals within him. On casting his eyes around, he saw, at a little distance, a young woman kneeling by the side of a wounded soldier, and applying a canteen to his mouth : he called out as loud as his faintness would allow, " For the love " of God, spare me a single drop of water !" The 282 A BATTLE soldier made a motion with his hand, and the woman immediately hastened to Sir Osmyn, and lifted the liquid to his parched lips, and it operated as a renovating cordial to his exhausted frame. This female was young and handsome, though then pale and in tears. She had an infant, about fourteen months old, who was strapped like a knap- sack upon her back. Her husband was a Serjeant, and she had followed him from Brussels to the field of battle. From the report of one of his comrades, who saw him fall during one of the many charges of that fearful day, she found out the spot where he lay, had staunched his wounds, and was then administering to his comfort as well as she was able. She covered Sir Osmyn with a military cloak, and placed a great-coat under his head for a pillow. But he would not attempt to stir for fear of opening his wounds afresh ; and he was so much revived by the refreshing liquid with which she frequently supplied him, as to be determined to wait patiently till day-light, when, he knew, parties would be sent out to the assistance of the wounded and to bury the dead. The woman made every possible signal to attract attention, and the morning STORY. 283 had scarcely dawned before a party of men arrived upon that part of the field, and with the utmost expedition constructed a sort of litter, in which they intended to bear away Sir Osmyn on their shoulders. They were about to place the serjeant in a common cart, with many others who were in the same pitiable condition, when the poor man entreated them to " let him alone, for the jolting " of the vehicle would certainly kill him, and he " could but die where he was." On hearing this, Sir Osmyn assumed his right to command, and desired the men to place the serjeant on the same litter with himself; for he declared, that he should be carried with himself, and should be lodged in the same apartment which he was to occupy, that he might see him furnished with proper and comfortable attendance. The poor serjeant lived only a few days ; a locked-jaw took place, and he expired in the arms of his faithful and affectionate wife. These are the scenes in which the patience, the fidelity, and the heroism of woman are tried to the uttermost, and seldom are they found to be defective. After her husband's death she threw herself on £84 A BATTLE his body in speechless agony for some minutes ; then, starting up and clasping her infant in her arms, she dropped down on her knees by the bed- side, and with streaming eyes cast a look of 'hum- ble piety to heaven, while she exclaimed, " God^s will be done ! I must still live for my child." She had never been in bed since the day of the battle, but had watched alternately her husband and Sir Osmyn, the latter of whom, after the death of her husband, requested her to take some rest. But the next morning she was again in attendance upon him, and begged that she might be allowed to minister to his wants till he should no longer require a nurse : And she did not leave him either night or day for a week, whilst he remained in the delirium of a fever without hopes of recovery. When he approached to something like a state of convalescence, this faithful creature, overcome with sorrow, fatigue and anxiety, sickened and fell into a nervous fever, which appeared slow in its pro- gress at first, but soon took a decided and fatal turn. Sir Osmyn felt the utmost anxiety respecting her fate : After an absence of some days, she sent STOEY. 285 to request to see him. The first visit which his strength allowed him to make, was to her lodgings; where he found her languid and weak, with her little smiling boy reclining by her side. She stretched out her feeble hand to him, and grasped his with a faint pressure : " Pray pardon me, " Sir," said she, " but I could not die satisfied " without seeing you : — My child P " I will be a father to your child," said Sir Osmyn, and he snatched the boy up in his arms and kissed him with eagerness. " Thank God ! then I have no longer any wish " to live." " O yes, you must not talk of dying. Be com- " forted ; you will yet revive*" " No, I know it cannot be ! But since my child " will not be lost, I die in peace.^God bless you, " Sir ! Be, be a father to my helpless" — babe, she would have said, but her maternal feelings were too poignant for her strength : She fell back with exhaustion and spoke no more. The scene was too much for the shattered nerves of Sir Osmyn, weak as he was : He felt a choaking in his throat, amount- ing almost to suffocation, as he hastily withdrew to his own apartment. 286 A BATTLE The next morning he was told that this excel- lent woman had breathed her last during the night. He caused her to be buried by the side of her husband, attended the funeral as chief mourner with the orphan in his arms, and shed tears of manly sorrow over her grave. He hired a nurse for the infant and brought them both over to England as soon as he was able to travel ; and the child is now under this woman's care at Hamp- stead. He has had him christened Osmyn Tom- kins, which was the name of the serjeant. Sir Osmyn's protege is a fine blooming little fellow, and he intends to train him up for the army. The good baronet says, he does not think it possible for him ever to feel, for a child of his own, a stronger attachment than that which he indulges towards this orphan boy; for he considers, that the mother of the child not only saved his life, but sacrificed her own by her assiduous attentions. Many are the taunts and sareasms thrown out respecting the innocent Osmyn Tomkins: Even Lady Bell has sometimes felt an undefinable sen- sation respecting him ; but she is not altogether STORY. 287 satisfied with herself for having granted the slight- est entertainment to an ungenerous thought. In- deed, all the world knows Sir Osmyn to be frank, open, and sincere, as a gallant soldier ought to be ; vet he is somewhat impetuous and jealous of his honour, but sans peur, sans reproclie. CHAPTEti XXVIII. FEMALE COQUETRY SAGE ADVICE^GRAND BALL AT ALMACK's, &C. When Lady Bell entered the drawing-room, Sir Osmyn approached her with a mixture of gallantry and frankness that I knew was particularly pleasing to my mistress, though I noticed a spark of co- quetry lurking in her eye. Sir Osmyn had been soliciting the Earl of Rosemary in behalf of some person, whom he thought aggrieved; and his lordship, for dignity's sake, said he would take the case into serious consideration. Lady Bell said, " Well, Sir Osmyn, has my ki father granted your request ?" u No, my Lady, I wanted your aid ; beauty, " pleading in the cause of humanity, could not " have interceded in vain." " I am fearful that the hurry of a fashionable SAGE ADVICE. 289 " life renders me too apt to be occupied with trifles, " and too regardless of higher claims. 1 ' " You should act then, my Lady, from the im- " pulse of your own sound judgment, without any " reference to the absurd dictates of fashion, which 4i gives wit to dulness, grace to deformity, and " importance to frivolous forms."' 1 " How can I help myself, Sir Osmyn ? I am " spell-bound in the magic influence of fashion's " charms. 11 " Break the imaginary spell. It is merely a " delusion, into which you have been led by your f fondness for admiration. 11 " How can you wish me to dispense with such " flattering distinction ?" " It is neither to be expected, nor even desired, " that you should rid yourself of it altogether, but " direct it to nobler purposes than to that of wast- " ing your time and talents upon the vain idlers, by " whom you are so frequently surrounded. You " sacrifice pleasure to parade, and enjoyment to " ostentation. Your career is extremely hazardous ; " for your Goddess brings every thing, except vir- " tue, into vogue by turns. 11 vol. i. o 290 SAGE ADVICE. " O now, Sir Osmyn, you are severe; and I '• must say that your remarks are delivered, more " with the poignancy of a satirist, than with the " gallantry of a soldier !" " Pardon me, my Lady, they are at least die* " tated bv sincerity ; and if your friend, Miss De " Valmont, were here, I am sure she would i( acknowledge their justice. 1 ' " No doubt, Sir ! there is a wonderful co-inci- " dence of opinion between that lady and your- " self." " There is one point upon which I am certain we " shall always agree." " Indeed, Sir, what is that ?" " The high opinion which we both entertain of " the heart and the understanding of Lady Bell " Lavender. 1 ' 66 Down to the ground, I thank you for so much " consideration ! And I am sorry to be obliged " to leave such lively and agreeable company. 11 " You are surely not going, my Lady I 1 ' said Sir Osmyn. " O yes ! I am engaged a thousand different " ways. I have not a moment I can call my own. SAGE ADVICE. 291 " I am tormented to sanction this concert, to put " my name to that subscription, to patronise parti- " cular candidates for public favour. I am quite " pestered with artists and dancing-masters, with " authors and musicians ! I am so importuned by " trades-people of all denominations, so teazed " with the Lavender this and the Lavender the " other, that I do find these provoking privileges of " distinction monstrously inconvenient. I should " have been off an hour ago ; for I was engaged to " attend Lady Sarah Simper, to a lecture on attrac- " tion at the Royal Institution. So good morning " to you, Sir Osmyn Mor-ality !" She kissed her hand, and smiled archly as she departed. " Farewell, thou lovely trifler !" said Sir Osmyn, as he left the house. " With all that M levity, she has a heart that is worth a mine of 66 diamonds. 11 Her ladyship then stepped into her carriage, and drove rapidly to a fashionable haberdasher's in Regent-street, where I was much amused with the assumed importance of the well-dressed automa- ta behind the counter, who moved, simpered, and looked as if they could imbibe a certain portion o2 #92 FASHIONABLE of nobility from attending to their titled cus- tomers. From thence we proceeded to Rundell and Bridge's on Ludgate Hill, and I never before was sensible of my own insignificance, till I beheld the dazzling blaze of precious stones that glittered all around. After my fair mistress had given orders about new-setting a diamond neck-lace, we drove back again along those crowded streets which so strik- ingly display the enterprising spirit of the Metro- polis, and where may be seen that moving mass of population, which has been emphatically called "the full tide of human existence." We proceeded to Ebers's in Bond-street, who, since the Opera-house has been under his manage- ment, obtains, by the urbanity of his manners, the good- will and patronage of half the nobility in the kingdom, and will realise a fortune for himself, after relieving the Lord Chancellor from the weighty responsibility of appreciating the value of an Italian BuftVs notes, attending to the steps of a French figurante, or adjusting a point of equity between Mynheer Fiddle-de-dum and Signior Fiddle-de-dee* In his shop we were surrounded by numbers of LOUNGERS. 293 the gaudy butterflies of fashion, who flutter away their trifling existence in the regions of Bond-street. Other more solemn drones of distinction buzzed about the lovely Lady Bell, as if she had been the Queen-bee of beauty. They whispered the honied accents of flattery into (as they supposed) her lis- tening ear. But these airy nothings passed un- heeded by her, as the idle wind which she regarded not ; and, after a thousand questions and replies about Opera-boxes, Almack 1 s, and new novels, a whole cargo of which was tumbled into the coach, we gratified the loungers in Bond-street, by driving once or twice by the side of the pave, took an air- ing for half an hour in Hyde Park, and returned to Portman Square, where we found Mr. and Miss De Valmont. Lady Bell's fine features were lighted up with joy and affection, as she flew to embrace her friend, Julia De Valmont, for they really loved each other. Her esteem for Mr. De Valmont was likewise great, though the old gentleman sometimes ventured to remind her ladyship, that, though it was not in human nature to be quite perfect, yet every one m ght make nearer approaches to perfection. -94 QUALIFICATIONS FOR They gave her an animated account of their accident, and described, with grateful delight, the intrepidity of Mr. Coventry. Lord Lavender came in, and listened with eagerness to the inter- esting recital : At the close of it he exclaimed, with more than usual vivacity, " Oh my heavenly 4 Hebe ! How I envy the happy fellow who saved ' your life ! The sight of such an effort would ' have roused all the energies of my soul ! I have * unfortunately been sunk in apathy itself since I ' saw you.'" " I believe you, my Lord," said Julia, " the * last time we parted, I recollect you were fast 6 asleep," " My dear Julia ! you know I am a very lazy 4 fellow, but at the same time very sincere ; and if ' you would assure me, that I should have nothing ' more to do than to throw myself at your feet, 4 to obtain your hand, I would take that trou- i ble ! I would, upon my honour J" " If you actually wished to please me, you - should appear what you really are, and not take i so much pains to be something different. 11 " Oh ! but my sweet little epitome of all that is BOND-STREET LOUNGERS. 295 "lovely, I should then lose my supremacy in " Bond-street." "Pray, my Lord," said Mr. De Valmont, " what qualifications do you consider necessary to " sustain your reputation there ?? " Why, to tell you the truth, Sir, a very slight " stock of intellect will suffice! I cut but a sorry " figure indeed, till I appeared to get rid of the "small portion of talents which Providence had " been pleased to bestow on me. I found that the " senses were useless, and that feeling was incom- " patible with taste ; for you must have, or pretend " to have, a taste for music, painting, dice, dress, " equipage, women, and horse-flesh." " Add to which," said his sister, " a listless " indifference abouteveryonebutyourself, — nomore " of the gift of speech than will allow you to lisp " out half a word at a time, — as much energy as " will barely suffer you to drag one limb after ano- " ther, — and then I think you will have a pretty " correct portrait of such a fine gentleman as my " noble brother, Lord Lavender !" " And I believe, my dear Bell," said his Lord- ship, " that, with a very few variations, it will " answer equally well for a fine lady," 296 A NOBLE DUKE " Indeed, Lavender, I can only answer for " myself." " Believe me then, Lady Bell," said Mr. De Valmont, " that you have more to answer for than " you are aware of. You are elevated to the highest " rank of distinction in fashionable life. You are, " in some degree, the glass of fashion by which " other persons dress themselves : you are the arbi- " tress of manners, morals, and taste. The influ- " ence of your example is felt through every grada- " tion of society, and may tend, not very remotely, " to the safety or destruction of the State. But " your Ladyship will think that my remarks have " become too serious. We will therefore retire, "and dress for dinner, if you please." Each of them then withdrew to their separate apartments. In the evening, Lord Lavender, his sister, and Julia proceeded to Almack's. They were rather late, and impeded at their entrance. But they were highly diverted, to see the man who had dictated to half the powers of Europe, and the hero who had never been conquered, both cooling their heels together in the lobby of Willis's Rooms, and wait- ing patiently till their servants returned from their respective habitations with tickets of admission* AND MARQUIS. 297 which those noblemen had forgotten to take with them when they went to a cabinet-dinner, from which they had just returned, and were presuming on their great names for instant admission : But so strict are the regulations, and so impartially enforced, that they could not be allowed to enter without the regular passports. Lady Bell ironically condoled with them on their distress: When the noble Duke said, " I and the " Marquis are reduced to this pitiable situation, " solely from the desire of seeing your Ladyship " waltz this evening." " Yes," replied the Marquis, " his Grace, " though never before conquered, is compelled to " submit to the force of your Ladyship's charms. 9 ' " Submission would be worse than death to me " in the field, 1 ' said the Duke, " but I consider it " no disgrace to yield either in the ball-room or the " cabinet." " But here come our tickets," said the Marquis, " and we shall be proud to enter as the attributes " of Beauty." " And who would not be proud of such attri- w butes as Wisdom and Valour ?" said her ladyship o3 298 CONJUGAL as she gaily took the offered arms of the two noble- men, followed by Julia and her brother. As they walked up the room, all eyes were rivetted on the party, and a buz of admiration ran like wild-fire through the noble and brilliant assem- blage, at the head of which shone the Marchioness of L. in all her native beauty and splendid decora- tions. She kindly took Lady Bell's hand, and said, <; Upon my word, Lady Bell, you look so divinely '* to-night, that you even excel yourself. " " Or, as I should say," rejoined the Marquis, " none but herself can be her parallel." " If his Lordship's fidelity was not, in my " mind, firm as the basis of a rock, I should cer- " tainly be jealous of you, Lady Bell." " O, my dear Marchioness, the dim lustre of " my humble pretensions dwindles to a spark " before the blaze of your Ladyship's charms f ' " O you cunning one ! You allude to my deco- " rations, not to the wearer! Well! I am not " vain of my person, but I certainly am of my " ornaments : for I consider every one of them as « a tribute of regard to my husband. I know AFFECTION. 299 a this is an old-fashioned word, yet I am proud of " it : So give me your arm, my Lord, and let us, " in the true style of Darby and Joan, go and pay ht our respects to the Duchess of Doright. r> Well might her Ladyship be proud of the orna- ments she wore; for they were the gifts of half the crowned heads in Europe, when she shone trium- phant amidst the congregated assemblage of beauty, met together to do honour to the congress of Poten- tates, Princes, and Ministers, at the arrangements of the late treaty of peace. But the meanest cot- tager in the village of will tell you, that her Ladyship is worthy of the homage of the poor and the lowly, as well as of the proud and the mighty. Lady Bell displayed her noble figure to great advantage in the revolving movements of the Waltz ; whilst the sensitive Julia contented her- self with the more intricate but elegant mazes of the Quadrille; and they returned home at a late hour. Thus ended the first day that I passed with the fascinating and fashionable Lady Bell Lavender, CHAPTER XXIX. EFFECTS OF FEMALE COQUETRY A CHALLENGE ANTICIPATED — A DUEL PREVENTED. My former possessor Mr. Coventry, being now on habits of intimacy, visited in the Earl of Rose- mary's family ; and was treated with almost an affectionate degree of kindness by Lady Bell. She felt as if she could never be grateful enough to the preserver of her Julia's life, whom she loved with a real sisterly affection, and whom she believed more worthy of being loved than any woman breathing. Sir Osmyn and Mr. Coventry were upon very friendly terms ; but the Baronet was not altogether satisfied with the marked attention which was shewn by her ladyship upon all occasions to Mr. Coventry. Jealousy is said to be as inseparable from the flame of love, as burning is from fire. NEWSPAPER SCANDAL. 301 Lady Bell was Mr. Coventry's warmest advocate with Miss De Valmont ; yet, through her natural fondness for admiration, she was not at all averse to his delicate flatteries of herself; and several times Sir Osmyn thought she was less pleased with his assiduity than with Mr. Coventry's attentions. She considered the latter as the professed admirer of Julia, and had not that delicate feeling of- re- straint before him which is experienced in the pre- sence of those whom we love ; and certain it is, that she was not entirely free from restraint in Sir Osmyns company. Mr. Coventry called the morning after she had been at Almack's, when he found her Ladyship alone, with a newspaper in her hand. She declared that she entertained serious thoughts about retiring from the world of fashion, as, from the tenour of the newspapers in these days, she trembled lest she should see her own name at the head of a column of unfounded scandal. Mr. Coventry observed, " that exposure was a " tax which all those who moved in high life were " liable to pay." " Yes," she replied, " but even private individ- u uals are now dragged before the public tribunal. 302 NEWSPAPER " No one is secure. A malignant enemy, or even a u jealous rival, may wound your feelings or sully " your fair fame, through the distorted medium of " a prostituted press : And it is hard that a though t- " less and inoffensive creature like myself, cannot " move through the mazes of a dance, without " having my name exposed to the coarse jests and " bitter animadversions of every alehouse politician " as if I had been guilty of an offence against the " State. I understand that this was not formerly " the practice; and that editors, though bitter " enough in politics, seldom sullied the columns of " their papers with malicious anecdotes from pri- u vate life. If I were to be thus exposed, I " should die with shame. I see no resource but to " retire, and hide my diminished head in a foreign " land, in some wild sequestered spot, where nj " more mention of me might be heard.*" " Indeed, my Lady Bell, you have no cause for " apprehension ; for it would be as easy for the " puny efforts of envy and malice to hurl the sun " from his sphere, as to detract from your reful- " gence or diminish your glory." " Upon my word, Mr. Coventry, I had supposed " that a certain refulgent star, called Julia, hadj SCANDAL. 303 " in your eyes, eclipsed all the luminaries of this " nether world. 1 ' w I beg your pardon, my lady ; I may behold " with fondness the mild lustre of one beautiful " planet, and at the same time gaze with admira- " don on the brilliancy of another." " My sweet friend is worthy of your undivided " adoration ; and, I assure you, I have always " pleaded strongly in your favour.'" " You, my Lady, are good as you are charm- " ing ; and if you will condescend to advocate my c< cause, I am certain of success. 11 Here she thought she heard the voice of Sir Osmyn Morland on the stairs, and she said she was determined to mortify him a little for having pre- sumed to offer her his sage advice the day before ; and she requested Mr. Coventry to coin- cide with her humour. Sir Osmyn entered with a frown on his brow, expressive of his opinion, that this man crossed him like an evil genius. Her ladyship, pretending not to notice him, said to Mr. Coventry, with a fascinating smile, " Adieu, my dear Sir, for the " present. Believe me, you have no cause for " despair." 304 HIGH WORDS. " A thousand thanks for that nattering asser- " tion ! My dearest Lady Bell, Adieu !" and he kissed her extended hand with gallantry and warmth. " Hai parting so tenderly ! This is too much' 1 — muttered Sir Osmyn, as he stepped forward before them, saying, in a sarcastic manner, " I am ' ; afraid, I intrude — I should be sorry to be any " interruption — " " Apology is quite unnecessary from Sir Osmyn " Morland," replied Mr. Coventry. " I am not in the habit, Sir, of apologizing ta " any gentlemax." " It is not to be expected, unless you had acted " wrong." " I do not consider myself responsible for mv " actions to Mr. Coventry ." " Nor shall I presume to question them, unless " your warmth should lead you beyond the bounds " of politeness. r ' u Warmth, Sir! let me tell you, this intru- ( * sion — - " Sir Osmyn,'' 1 said my Lady, Ci your agitation u alarms me V w Do not be alarmed, Lady Bell : Your kind HIGH WORDS. 305 " consideration sufficiently protects the gentleman " from resentment."" " I desire no protection, Sir, but what the laws " of honour allow. It is never my intention to " offer an insult ; and it is my determined resolu- " tion never tamely to submit to one. You have " insulted me, Sir Osmyn, without provocation ; " you know the consequences. The lady's pre- " sence prevents further explanation.'' — and he left the house with a full determination of demanding an apology, or the satisfaction which one gentleman expects from another. Lady Bell trembled for the event. She saw her jest had gone too far, and was become a serious affair. In a faultering voice she said, " Oh Sir " Osmyn ! was this well done ? Did Mr. Coventry " deserve such treatment ? Did I — " and she burst into tears. " I beg pardon, Lady Bell, for having excited " your apprehensions ; but my anger obtained the " mastery over my discretion. I know I ought not " to have acted thus in your presence." " If you have any regard for me, I entreat you " then to pursue this business no further.'' " I cannot in honour retract." 308 EXPOSTULATION. "Honour ! O fatal prostitution of the word ! a a Do you, who have fought the battles of your " country, and are covered with the scars of glory, " wish to substantiate your courage ? You who " have braved danger and death in every shape, — " do you still desire to vindicate your honour ? O " for shame, Sir Osmyn ! Set the example for " which every man of real courage will admire you, " every upright mind will applaud you. It was " you who gave the offence, you know ; therefore " manfully acknowledge it, and do not meet Mr. Coventry. Promise me, you will not meet him." I dare not promise."" " The truly courageous will dare every thing/' " What ! the censure of the world ?" " Yes, in a righteous cause. And, with your " established reputation, who will presume to " question your conduct ? For my sake, say you " will not meet him f " Thus far I assure you, my Lady, that I will " not give the challenge. As a soldier I must " accept it. The laws of polite society are so «' constituted as to forbid any refusal. But I will " not fire. At your desire, believe me, Lady 66 Bell, I would freely hazard my life, my peace. CONCESSION. 307 " and almost my honour. — For your sake, then, " Mr. Coventry is safe." Sir Osmyn hastily withdrew, while she called after him, " Stay, Sir Osmyn, stay ! O mercy ! " he is gone, and perhaps for ever ! Why will he " persist in the delusion that I was partial to Mr. " Coventry ? Oh ! what extent of misery has " this vile spirit of coquetry brought upon me i" In the midst of these lamentations, Julia De Valmont entered the room. " Oh Julia, my love ! " Soothe me, comfort me ! I am fallen into the " lowest abyss of wretchedness V " Repose your sorrows in my bosom, my dearest " Lady Bell ;" and she entwined her arms around her as she spoke. " What is the cause of your M distress?" " I hate, I abhor myself. Oh Julia ! I have " put the life of the man I love in jeopardy !" " Not willingly, I am sure.'''' " Yes, wantonly wounded his feelings, childishly (i trifled with his affections. Sir Osmyn has quar- " relied with Mr. Coventry ? " Indeed ! How ?" — stammered out Julia, and her colour fled, 308 FKIENDLY EXPLANATIONS. " On my account. I encouraged Mr. Coven- " try's flattery, even before Sir Osmyns face.*'' " And did Mr. Coventry flatter you f " K To be sure, he did : — He could not open his " lips without. Did he never flatter you, my dear ?" " No, except by his attentions." " He had too much respect for your good sense " and simplicity ; but he was aware that he was " offering an agreeable sacrifice to the vanity of a " silly coquette when he bestowed it so lavishly " upon me, — ideot that I was to encourage it ! « Should he kill Sir Osmyn— " " Oh selfish idea ! Should Sir Osmyn kill him — " My dearest Julia, do not agitate yourself so t( much ! You have no cause for alarm ; for he e( promised me, before we parted, that he would " not fire at Mr. Coventry." " Excuse me, Lady Bell, I am not used to such "things. He was the preserver of my life, the " preserver of my honoured parent's life too ; and " there is something in a duel so repugnant to a " feeling heart — I would not have my father know * k it for the world. Here comes your brother ; " perhaps he can assist us." STYLISH COOLXESS. 309 Lord Lavender now entered, and Julia turned to him with a winning sweetness in her manner, which, one would have supposed, was perfectly irresistible ; and, laying her hand upon his arm, she said with great earnestness, " O my dear Lord " Lavender, if ever you had the wish to oblige " me, give me now a proof of your sincerity I" " My dear creature, I never took the trouble to " be insincere. What are your commands ?" " Mr. Coventry and Sir Osmyn have had high " words — ?' " That's wrong, very wrong : It is superlatively f* vulgar to get into a passion.'" " Oh my Lord, but they intend to fight V " Of course; but they should conduct themselves Ci coolly. A man cannot draw a hair-trigger with " precision, unless his hand is steady, firm, per- " fectly cool — V " Lavender, 1 ' said Lady Bell, " how can you " let that horrid apathy which you assume, over- " shadow the better parts of your reason ? v " Softly, my good sister, — I am a greater philo- " sopher than you are aware of. I never suffer u these little matters to disturb the serenity of my " cogitations— -" 310 INTERESTING AND " Well, but my dear Lord, 11 said Julia, " can- " not you interfere to prevent this meeting P 11 " Not for the world ! When once the parties " have committed themselves by an angry word, it " is a duty I owe to my own reputation never to " attempt a reconciliation. It is quite irregular. " No, no ! I will exert myself to see the laws of " honour rigidly enforced, but I will not interfere " to make up a quarrel/ 1 " O, 11 said Julia, Ci the blessings of the peace- " maker will be upon you I 11 " No, no. The pistol is your only peace-maker. " It unravels the subtlest distinctions, and settles " a dispute without the trouble of further arbitra- " tion. I'll hasten and see justice duly adminis- " tered ; take care that the preliminaries are pro- u perly adjusted ; but I'll not interfere. No, no : " that's quite contrary to all the laws of etiquette " and honour. 11 u O brother, brother, 11 said Lady Bell, " if you " had the least spark of gallantry or feeling, you " would fly to Mr. Coventry and tell him that " Julia^ fate depends upon his life. 11 " Yes, yes, 11 retorted Julia, " that your sister's SUCCESSFUL SUITORS. 311 " happiness is entwined with Sir Osmyn's exist- " ence . ,v> " If you wish for the happiness of Miss De " Yalmont" — " If you value your sister's peace of mind" — " Dear brother, I entreat you"' — " My Lord, I conjure you — " " Softly, softly, my dear creatures !" said his Lordship, " your earnestness and agitation place " this matter in totally a different point of view. " If you are both so seriously concerned, I cer- " tainly will attempt a mediation.'" " Fly, fly, my dear brother, or you may be too " late to save him V " Fly, fly, my dear Lord, for life may depend " upon a moment !" « Tell Sir Osmyn," said my Lady, " that he " has quite mistaken Mr. Coventry. r ' " And tell Mr. Coventry, that he entirely mis- " understood Sir Osmyn,^ said Julia. " Yes, yes, I'll tell them, that you have all mis- u understood one another ; at the same timej you " are all of one mind. I think it no trouble to " oblige you in such a delicate dilemma : I do not, 312 FEAHFUL SUSPENCE. " upon my honour" — and his Lordship left them with a haste and energy altogether unusual. Julia said, as he departed, " O, my dear Lady " Bell, I blush at the recollection of my own emo- " tion ; I tremble at the thought of seeing Mr. " Coventry again." " You need not, my dear Julia. I flirted with " him on purpose to create the jealousy of Sir " Osmyn ; and his attentions to me were merely " that sort of badinage with which he saw I was " but too much delighted. If any thing serious " should happen from this quarrel, I should never " recover my peace of mind again." These twin sisters in affection then withdrew in tears. Her Ladyship retired to her dressing-room, where she gave vent to her feelings without restraint, sobbing violently. Pier heart palpitated as if it would burst that beauteous bosom, whereon I lay perdue in her purse, concealed from the prying eye of mortals ; and where I could have been content to remain for ever, had my lovely mistress been at ease. However she was soon released from the torture of suspence : For Lord Lavender acted with so much earnestness and FRIENDLY EXPLANATIONS. 313 celerity as to prevent the meeting, and I was wit- ness to such a scene of rapturous reconciliation as made my spirit leap for joy. An explanation took place between all the parties concerned, who spent the evening in Portman-square, in that delightful reciprocation of felicity which proved, — that it is possible to settle a dispute without a duel, — that people of fashion may rationally indulge their feelings, — and that there is such a thing as real happiness even in high life. vol. I. CHAPTER XXX, HISTORY OF OWEN PUNLEARY HIS DISINTER- ESTED AND BENEVOLENT CHARACTER, &C. The various emotions which had agitated my charming mistress's mind on this eventful day, kept her awake the greatest part of the night ; but, in the morning, she fell into a sweet and profound sleep, and did not awake from her blissful dreams till a very late hour in the day When she rang for her attendant, she was told that Mr. Punleary had been waiting at least an hour to obtain an audience : And whilst she is hastily finishing her toilette, I will acquaint you with the history of this gentleman. He is the eldest son of the Rev. Lewis Punleary, who was formerly curate of the parish of R. in Glamorganshire. Parsons' wives are proverbially prolific, and sometimes even favour their husbands OWEN PUNLEARY. 315 with twins. Mrs. Punleary was an industrious good sort of woman and brought the poor curate six children in five years. In addition to this family, he had a pony, a cow, and a pig. He dabbled a little in husbandry, brewed his own ale, smoked his pipe in peace, and " was passing rich with forty pounds a year." But a fever, which he caught on a visit to a dying parishioner, carried off this worthy man, and left his widow nothing for the support of herself and her orphans, but a small annuity, from a society which had been esta- blished for the benefit of the widows and orphans of Clergymen. The little Owen, who was ten years old when his father died, looked upon him- self as a burthen to his mother, and became restless and uneasy. He had received as much instruction as his father could give him, or as one of his tender age could imbibe. There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at its ebb, leads on to fortune. In like manner, it often happens, that some appa- rently fortuitous circumstance determines the for- tunes of individuals, and this frequently arises from the perusal of a particular book. In the p 2 316 HISTORY OF course of Owen's studies, he had fallen in with the" interesting story of Whittington and Ms Cat; and he never heard the sound of the three bells (one of which was cracked) in the steeple of the parish church, but the merry tune of " Turn again Whittington, Lord Mayor of London,' 1 rung at the same time in his ears. He never suffered his mother to rest till he had obtained her consent to put himself under the protection of their neighbour Mrs, Ap Llewin, who was then making preparations for proceeding to the metropolis to join her husband, who had lately purchased a milk- walk in the neighbourhood of Whitechapel, and was thought to be likely to do well in the world. This good woman kindly offered to take charge of the parson's son, and to allow him to reside with her till he could find some employment ; for she had a great respect for the curate, and was fond of the boy for his own sake, Mrs. Punleary did not know a creature in Lon- don ; but, in the simplicity of her heart, she penned a letter to the Prince of Wales, and charged her son to deliver it into his own hands when he got to town. Owen took a tender leave of his mother, and of his little brothers and sisters ; and with six shillings and threepence half-penny in his OWEN PUNLEAUY. 317 pocket, and his ward-robe tied up in a blue-and- white handkerchief, which he carried on a stick as a bundle over his shoulder, he set off on foot with Mrs. Ap Llewin, in the full and rational expecta- tation of one day becoming Lord Mayor of London. An accident occurred on the road, which had nearly proved fatal to one of our aboriginal adven- turers : They had overtaken a huge machine called cijlying waggon, which moves at the quick rate of about three miles an hour : The driver allowed them to get into the hinder part of it, and to travel on with him till he arrived at the next market- town. Being overcome with fatigue and very snugly nestled in a truss of straw, they both fell fast asleep; and, by a sudden jerk of this ponderous vehicle, Owen was thrown out into the middle of the highway. Stunned with the fall, he did not recover himself till the waggon was out of sight, when he got up and found himself alone in a dark night and on a strange road. He was like a mari- ner who had lost his compass, and could not tell what course to steer; but he sat down by the way-side, and wept bitterly. Very early in the morning a farmer on horseback, who was going to 318 HISTORY OF market, happened to pass, and enquired into the cause of his distress ; having heard Owen's story, he very good-naturedly took the boy up behind him, and they soon overtook the slowly- pacing conveyance, to the great surprise of the waggoner and Mrs. Ap Lie win, who had never missed the embryo Lord Mayor. After a wearisome journey of many days, they at length reached the metropolis in safety ; and the morning after his arrival at Whitechapel, Owen discovered, to his great dismay, that his mother's letter to the Prince of Wales was rubbed all to pieces, by the friction of his money in his breeches- pocket. By this accident he considered himself a total stranger in a new w r orld, in which he and his good mother had hoped for great things from " the great man, who was the Chief of the Principality , M and to whom Mrs. Punleary's letter was affection- ately addressed. Owen had a round unmeaning face, with a little obtuse nose ; and nothing prepossessing in the rest of his features : Yet there was altogether a look of downright honest simplicity in his countenance, that spoke volumes in his favour. He was remark- ably docile and good-natured ; and Mrs. Ap OWEN PUNLEARY. 319 Lie win took him with her every Sunday to the Welsh chapel near Lambeth Palace, where she frequently met with, an old acquaintance of her husband, of the name of Tramp, who was a shoe- maker in Lambeth- walk. This man, on learning who the little Owen was, offered to take him into his shop ; and if both parties liked each other, he should be taught the gentle craft, art, or mystery of a cordwainer. Owen made no objection, and went home one Sunday with his new master to dinner. There was a man in Mr. Tramp's employ- ment of the name of Bristlecraft, who was at once orator, politician, and poet. He lent Owen books, and often treated him by allowing him to read aloud, whilst he plied his hammer on the lapstone. He took much notice of the boy ; and was very fond of him. He assisted him to improve in his writing and arithmetic ; and Punleary ever spoke of this man with much affection and gratitude. He was indeed exceedingly kind and attentive to him as long as he lived. After Owen had been with Mr. Tramp some little time, Bristlecraft opened a shop on his own account in Coventry-street. He was allowed to take Punleary with him, and 320 HISTORY OF encouraged the fondness for learning which Owen had displayed. After he had resided in this situation a year or two, a person came to lodge in his master's first floor, who was connected with the Drama. Being pleased with the extreme civility of the odd-looking youth in the shop, this gentleman frequently gave him an order for the theatre. Owen became passion- ately fond of dramatic exhibitions, and sometimes went behind the scenes with his new friend. But the pride of the young Welchman received a blow, which altered his destination in life. For some of the scene-shifter's boys had written out a burlesque play-bill and posted it up in a situation where it was sure to meet the Cambrian's eye : " To-morrow Evening will be performed THE TRAGEDY OP ROMEO AND JULIET: THE PART OF ROMEO BY MR. SNOB, FROM THE SHOEMAKER'S THEATRE^ COVENTRY-STREET." OWEN PUNLEARY. 321 This placard disgusted him with his occupation ; and he told his employer the next day, that he could not conquer his repugnance to his trade, and must therefore quit his service. The good Bris- tlecraft did not wish to thwart his inclination, but with a tear in his eye said, " that though he did " not like to part with him, he would look out for " something that might suit him better." In a short time, through the recommendation of his friend in the first floor, he obtained employment as a messenger or under-clerk, in a newspaper- office in the Strand. This was exactly what suited our hero's propensities. He could visit the theatres whenever he pleased. He fancied he had talents for the stage, and he sat up night after night stu- dying the first tragic characters in Shakspeare. He then waited on Mr. Harris, and offered to make his debut in Shylock ; on giving him, and the late Mr. Lewis, who was present, a specimen of his powers, he proceeded in the part as far as " And what's reason ? / am a Jew" — when they burst into a loud fit of laughter, and Mr. Harris said, " Indeed, my good friend, you are a very funny i( little fellow ; but you have not a face fit for p 3 322 HISTORY OF " a Jew ; and your voice reminds me of a penn j " trumpet!" This rebuff entirely cured him of his theatrical aspirations, and he directed his studies into another channel. Growing up nearly to man's estate, he attempted little paragraphs, and an occasional sonnet, which were inserted in his master's news- paper. He was employed in collecting intelligence, and by degrees he was received on the establish- ment as a regular contributor, and was a man of considerable importance — at least in his own eyes. He formed an acquaintance with most of the small-talk men of literature and bon-vivants, in the metropolis ; frequented clubs ; wrote songs ; and published poem after poem, dedicated, as was then the custom, to some noble patron or patroness, from whom he frequently received a douceur, but often not in such liberal measure as the praises which he bestowed. At length he became, and has continued ever since, a writer by profession, or a man who lives by his wits. His hand-writing is straggling and almost illegible, and frequently ap- pears so pale and thin as to render his meaning unintelligible. Indeed, his ink seems to be entirely without gall, and is not black enough to give force OWEN PFNLEAltY. 323 to his satire ; but he has the art of decking trifles in pleasing colours, and, if he is not brilliant, he never offends. With all this meekness, he pos- sesses such an independent spirit, that, though he may not have a shilling in his pocket, he never runs into debt. While he never was known to do a dishonourable action or to give utterance to a malicious sentiment, he cannot recollect that he ever had an enemy except the scene-shifter's boys. He was never married ; and has now no relative alive ; and yet when he dies he will be followed to the grave, with more regret than thousand of those who leave more than one generation to weep at their departure. He never solicits a favour for himself, but is indefatigable in the service of his friends ; and he was now come on a friendly mis- sion, as his subsequent interview with Lady Bell will sufficiently explain. " I am sorry to make you wait so long, Mr. u Punleary,' ,, said her Ladyship as she entered, and good-humouredly requested him to be seated. " I am never tired of waiting for Lady Bell " Lavender, for she never vet sent me unkindly" 6i away." 324 INTERVIEW WITH " And if I know my own heart, Mr. Punleary, " I trust I never shall." " Well, then, my Lady, I am sure you will " pardon my presumption in becoming the humble " advocate of a friend of mine, who is at present " under a cloud, and ignorant of this application. " For he manifested an aversion against reminding " your Ladyship of a person, whom you used to " know formerly at school, but whom, in your pre- " sent state of splendour and prosperity, he said, " you would blush to acknowledge. But I told " Mr. Sensitive, that I could not indulge such an " ungenerous thought." Her Ladyship blushed, but it was with a kindly suffusion of benevolent feeling, as she replied, " I " thank you heartily, Mr. Punleary, for doing me " so much justice. Indeed, I should think myself " totally unworthy of my good fortune, if ever I " forgot the kindness I have experienced from " Henry Sensitive. When I was learning to write *f at my grandfather's at W — , he was monitor or " head-boy in the school, and appointed to over- " look my rude efforts at penmanship. When I " was at fault, he repaired my pen; when I failed " in the shape of my letters, he guided my hand ; LADY LAVENDER. 325 " and even then I could not avoid remarking, when- " ever he directed my fingers, my letters were more " crooked than before. I felt his hand tremble as " he held mine; and once, when I turned round " my head and told him with a smile, that I thought " his cheek was closer to mine than was necessary, " he blushed to his fingers 1 ends, and never more " undertook the pleasing task of directing my " hand. Soon afterwards he left the school, and " sent a sonnet addressed to myself, full of tender- " ness and affection. I did not feel any thing like " love ; but my youthful vanity was gratified, and " I ever remember Henry Sensitive with grateful " recollections as my first admirer. Indeed, it is " not long since I looked at his sonnet with a " degree of emotion. But I always understood, " Mr. Punleary, that his father had amassed a u large fortune by his profession, that Henry had " gone to College, and that, as an only child, he " could not fail to succeed to an ample inheritance.' 1 " My Lady, he married without his father's " consent, who says he will disinherit him,' in favour " of a nephew who now resides in his house. On " discovering that my friend had known you in 326 GENEROSITY. " early life, I was determined to acquaint your ,fc Ladyship with his situation." " You have acted kindly and judiciously, as you " always do, Mr. Punleary. Give me his father s " address. I must not at present go near the proud " Henry ; for I am well aware of the extreme " sensibility of his nature. But I will not rest till 1 " have some how or other re-instated him in the " good graces of his parent. In the mean time, " here are ten sovereigns, that you can use for his " benefit, in the way which your own delicate feel- " ings may suggest ; and do me the favour to take <• these ten for yourself, which I am indebted to " you for your late beautiful poem on Gratitude. " There — say no more ! You shall hear from me " again very soon : so good morning, good Mr. " Punleary," — and I departed from this incom- parable creature, more and more convinced, that she is deserving of all the admiration she receives. If imitation be the sincerest flattery, Lady Bell Lavender is flattered more than any woman alive ; for she is followed and imitated by half the town. CHAPTER XXXI. HISTORY OF HENRY SENSITIVE PUXLEAJIY^S EXERTIONS IN HIS FAVOUH, &C. The influence of benevolence on the human countenance was never more strikingly displayed, than on the face of Punleary, which was lighted up with a gladness that rendered it agreeable, if not beautiful. He hastened to the residence of his friend Sensitive, which was an attic story, in one of those newly-erected houses in the neighbourhood of White Conduit Fields, in a street as yet without a name. He was in such habits of intimacy with him as precluded ceremony ; and, on this occasion his heart was too full of joy to think of punctilio. On ascending the stairs towards Henry's apart- ment he heard him talking aloud, and, imagining he was not alone, he stopped to listen, when he overheard the following soliloquy : " My dear 328 HISTORY OF " Father, I coif ess I have acted wrong — Lullaby, " lullaby, hush my sweet baby !" This he chaunted forth in the true nursery recitative. " 7" repent of what I have done — No ! my pen " belies me — I do not repent !" — And he tore what he had written to atoms. " For heaven has already crown? d our faithful loves <•* With a young boy, sv:eet as his mother's beauty I " Hush, hush my darling ! for in spite of your " grandfather's hate, you shall yet be a Knight " and your mother a Lady :"" and this he sung to the child, whom he held in his arms. " / will not write pitiful petitions for forgiveness, " Here we go up, up, up ; and here we go down, " down, downee ! Yes, my sweet pet ! your fa- " therms pen shall work your way to glory — Here u we go backwards and forwards, and here we go " round, round, roundee. — There, my little darling, " lie you quiet awhile," and he placed the child upon a bed made up for it, upon two chairs in a corner of the room. " Hush, my babe, lie still and slumber — For I "feel my heart heat within me — the Jit of inspi- " ration is upon me ! My soul is on fire with poetic HENRY SENSITIVE. 329 " frenzy F He then strode violently across the room and thus began, "The sun's perpendicular height " Illuniin'd the depth of the sea;" " The fishes, beginning to sweat, " Cried, murder ! how hot we shall be .'" The two last lines were uttered by Punleary, as he burst into the room and into a loud fit of laughter. " Bravo, bravo, Hal ! I'll rhyme you so eight " years together ! The right butter-woman's rate " to market." You may laugh, Mr. Punleary, but your interruption has brought me down from the heights of Parnassus to the sense of wretchedness " and poverty." " Nonsense I those who win, will laugh. I have " had a wind-fall to-day. Look here, my boy!" and he shook the gold in his hand. " And you " must borrow these ten shiners of me till your " MS. is ready for the press." " I would sooner starve !" " That's all very fine, my dear fellow ! A man " has a right to starve himself, but not his wife " and child. " True, true ! Punleary. — That at once pulls u down my pride. But you are the only person it 330 HISTORY OF "on earth to whom I would condescend to be " beholden/' " Then take the money at once, and, if I have " offended you, all I request is — that you'll quietly " pocket the affront.'" " It is impossible to be offended with you : So " sit down, and let me trespass upon your patience " a little whilst I relate to you some particulars, " which, as a friend, you have a right to know. " The child is asleep, Louisa is gone about her w errands, and we shall not be interrupted : " When I was at Cambridge I was introduced by a fellow Collegian to his aunt and cousin — ■& widow lady and her daughter, who lived in retire- ment on a small annuity. The daughter had been instructed in every branch of fashionable education, for they had once moved in a different sphere of life; and her mother had stored her mind with elevating sentiments of piety, and a high sense of virtue, which have enabled her to bear all her reverses of fortune without a murmur. I became a frequent visitor at the house, and it was impos- sible for me to remain insensible of the daughter's charms : For, Thoughtless of beauty, she was beauty's self. HENRY SENSITIVE. 331 You have seen her, Punleary, and you know I speak the truth. The lovely recluse saw but little variety ; and it was therefore not wonderful, that she should listen to my passion with approbation. Her mother made no objection to my suit, on my promising to obtain my father's consent. I could not divest myself of the apprehension of his dis- pleasure ; for I was conscious that my marriage with Louisa would frustrate all his ambitious pro- jects respecting myself. His fondness for me was excessive, and I was inelulged in every wish : but he was of a haughty and vindictive disposition. When I was about to leave the Universitv, I could not delay the explanation any longer. The mo- ment I came to town, I entered into particulars with my father. He raged, and I expostulated. He bit his lip with vexation, and I, in my eager- ness to defend myself, grew outrageous ; when he bade me instantly quit his presence. Instead of soothing him, I retired, wrote an irritating letter, and then left the house. " O Punleary ! — a pen, in the hands of an angry man, is more dangerous than a sword. Words spoken in the heat of the moment may be forgiven; but those which are written in a passion fester and 332 HISTORY OF rankle in the heart — they are worse than daggers. I was guilty of this act of madness, which my father never forgave; and whilst I was writing, though I fully felt the force of the observation litera scripta manet, yet I could not forbear. I hastened back to Cambridge and disclosed the whole of my rash conduct to Louisa and her mother : Such was the irritability of my mind and body, that I was seized with a nervous fever, and confined to my bed for several weeks. " I owed my life to the care and anxiety of these two affectionate beings ; and when I recovered, I so worked upon the mother's sensibility as to obtain her consent to my marriage with her daughter, under the persuasion, that when the act was accomplished and we had cast ourselves at my father's feet, he would be softened by the sweetness and beauty of my wife, his relentings would be kindled, and he would grant me his forgiveness . But on our com- ing up to town, and requesting the favour of an interview, he desired a servant to say, ( that he dis- ' owned me as a son, and would never see my face ' again ; that I might act as I pleased ; that he had * cut me off with a shilling, and had made my * cousin his heir. 1 — I was almost maddened at this. HENRY SENSITIVE. 333 information ; but the good sense and mildness of my wife soothed my irritation, and calmed my frenzy into something like resignation. I began to consider what was to be done, and I resolved to turn my talents, if possible, to some account. Notwithstanding my youthful passion for Louisa, I had made the best use of my time at the Univer- sity. Nature had given me strong feelings and a warm imagination, and I at once made up my mind to become an author. " I immediately became absorbed in reverie ; and sat for hours together with my head on my hand, in imitation of a print I had seen, which represented Alexander Pope in the same attitude, melancholy and gentlemanlike. I seldom laughed, spoke little, but mused and thought in sentences. My dreams also were full of point and polished periods ; and I once alarmed my wife by starting up in my bed and repeating aloud the fag-end of a wretched couplet. Every thing I read was with a view to my embryo volume. On perusing one of the recent productions of the admired novelist of the north, I was so fascinated with the manner in which he developed the workings of the human mind> and marked the nice discriminations of each particular 334 HISTORY OF character, and I glided so smoothly along through the pleasing meanderings of the story, as to con- sider it one of the easiest things in the world to write a romance. I accordingly took my pen in hand, and wrote two or three pages without a sin- gle stoppage ; but, on casting my eye over them, I perceived nothing bat inflation and tautology : For once, therefore, I acted with prudence, and committed them to the flames. I sometimes wished that some of the imitators of this transcendent genius had acted in the same manner : For, as principal, he certainly has to answer for greater sins than his own, in being the cause of much shedding of ink and barbarous murder of language, both Scotch and English, on the part of his acces- saries. On the contrary, there are instances in which he has, like honest Jack Falstaff, been " not only witty himself, but the cause of wit in others." Some daring minds have been urged on by his example to tread very closely in his steps. Indeed, many excellent novels and romances have lately appeared, and done immense injury to the cheap manufactory in Leadenhall-street.- — This failure in my first attempt did not in the least diminish my ardour: I at length fixed upon a plot, and the HENRY SENSITIVE, 335 irritability of my feelings was intensely feverish till I had unburthened my mind upon paper ; and when the sentences before me swelled into paragraphs and pages, and I became satisfied with their con- struction and the arrangement of my own thoughts, the ecstacy I experienced was equalled only by my previous anxiety : This is not surprising, as I fancied myself on the high-road to fame and immortality. " No sooner, however, had I commenced my operations in earnest, than, wherever I went, I imagined I was known and pointed out as an author. If I met a person in the street who stared me in the face, I blushed like a school-boy in the presence of a stranger. If I entered into a coffee- room, and heard two or three gentlemen conversing together in a low tone, I took it into my head they were talking of me. If I went into a place of public amusement, I concluded that the eyes of the whole audience were upon me. I never took up a newspaper, or a magazine, but I expected to see my own name blended with some ill-natured remarks upon publications "preparing for the press. Indeed I seldom looked into a periodical work, but 336 HISTOltY OF I sickened at the idea of being mangled in the Edinburgh Review, or cut up in the Quarterly. I could not move along the street without fancying that the boys knew I was an author, and the very dogs barked at me as I halted by them. " I however got rid of this feeling by degrees ; and when I had completed my work, I waited upon Mr. Margin, the Bookseller, who resides at no great distance from Oxford Street. He is a tall, stout, middle-aged man, with rather a gentleman- like appearance and address, but somewhat sar- castic, though not severe, in his manner. He had a peculiar and graceful way of displaying his pocket-handkerchief; and, on my stating that I wished to speak a few words with him in private, he flourished his nasal flag, and desired me to fol- low him. We ascended a spiral stair-case at the end of the shop, dark and narrow as a steeple, but not quite so lofty : and when we had reached the first floor, he ushered me into a small back-room, which was decorated with engraved heads of most of our celebrated authors, neatly framed and glazed. Seating himself in a morocco-leather easy chair, he lifted his right foot upon his left knee, and clap- HENRY SENSITIVE. 337 ping the calf of his leg with his palm, he assumed a listening attitude. I held my credentials in my hand, and Betwixt his finger and his thumb he held A pinch of snuff", which, ever and anon, He gave his nose, and took't away again. " The conversation was then commenced on my part thus : " I have a MS. here, Sir, and as I have received a classical education — " ( My good Sir, that is of very little conse- ' quence since Macdonnel has published his Dic- 6 tionary of Quotations. No man is at a loss now 6 for an apt line or two from Virgil or Horace. A * free translation of some of the freest passages in 4 Anacreon, Horace, or Catullus might perhaps * succeed. But I beg pardon for interrupting 4 you.' required but few hours'' daily attendance; and she rightly judged, that when his father found him likely to arrive at honour and independence without his assistance, he would be the more ready to relent. As soon, therefore, as Henry was settled in his office, she contrived, through the agency of Pun- leary, to be introduced to Louisa, and explained her views and intentions respecting her husband. They were mutually delighted with each other, and Louisa's expressions of gratitude were un- bounded. It was agreed, that, without the know- ledge of Henry, they should proceed together to Tavistock Square, and wait upon the elder Mr. Sensitive. They drove up to the door in the Earl of Rose- mary's carriage, and when Lady Bell Lavender had sent in her name, they were instantly admitted. Mr. Sensitive was aware of her ladyship's esti- mation in the world, and was agreeably surprised at the visit, He received the ladies most graciously ; HENRY SENSITIVE. 349 and Lady Bell was the first to commence the con- versation : 44 I am afraid, Mr. Sensitive, you will think me " very impertinent in thus intruding myself on 44 your attention ; for, though I am personally 44 unknown to you, I am no stranger to your " celebrity, and am conscious of the value of your " time." " It is impossible, my lady, for me to feel any 44 otherwise than highly gratified by your good 44 opinion, and proud of the honour of this visit." 44 I trust, Sir, my motives will not be miscon- 44 strued : The Earl of Rosemary, I believe, has 44 some influence with government." 44 Doubtless, my lady," was the reply. 44 Well then, Sir, there is a friend of mine, whose 44 interest he has very much at heart. He has 44 already appointed him to a situation in a public 44 office, where he receives a stipend sufficient to 44 secure his independence ; and I believe it is his 44 lordship's intention to procure him a seat in Par- 44 liament. But this must, in a certain degree, 44 depend upon you? 44 Upon me> my lady ! Any thing which de- 44 pends upon me, his lordship may command " 350 HISTORY OF " The Earl was unwilling to meddle with this "matter, till he had obtained the promise of " your influence in the borough of T , in Corn- " wall, in favour of his lordship's protegee ; and " he has sent me as a humble intercessor in his " favour. 11 She curtsied down to the ground, and looked with ineffable sweetness in Mr. Sensitive's face. " It is impossible, 11 said he, " to refuse any " thing to such a charming solicitor. My influ- " ence in the borough is merely nominal ; but, such M as it is, it shall be entirely at his lordship's ser- " vice. 11 " I may conclude, then, that you will not think " it an impertinent interference with your family " concerns, for the Earl of Rosemary to introduce " Mr. Henry Sensitive into parliament. 11 "What! my lady,—- my son into parliament! " I have discarded him for ever I 11 ii Of what crime has he been guilty P 11 " The worst of crimes ! — flown in his father's " face — married in open defiance of my prohibition " — nobody knows who — a vulgar low-born crea- " ture ! It maddens me to think of it. Into pat* ** Hament, said you ?" HENRY SENSITIVE. 351 w Yes, Sir ; nothing but your influence in the " borough is wanting to complete the arrange- " mem." " If he had married a woman of virtue and " education, I might have overlooked it, — a ** daughter whom I might not have blushed to " own, I might have forgiven him. Oh ! Henry, " Henry ! You still are twined about my heart ! " Had you married such a lovely creature as this, " indeed—" " You might all be happy," said her Ladyship, with the tear of sympathy beaming in her eve. " Behold then your daughter, Sir, worthy of all " your love !" Here the trembling Louisa was so overcome with agitation, that, in attempting to throw herself at her father-in-law's feet, she almost fainted ; but lie caught her in his arms, and pressed her to his heart. It is needless to add, that this interview led to results satisfactory to all the parties concerned, except the nephew, who yet was handsomely pro- vided for, but did not become his uncle's sole heir. 352 HISTORY OF, &C This was an event in which my spirit heartily rejoiced ; and my gladness was greatly increased on finding my excellent friend Punleary provided with a situation in Henry's office, which rendered him, what he richly deserved to be, independent of the frowns of the world for the remainder of his life. CHAPTER XXXIII. MISS JEMIMA SCRIMP's ATTACHMENT TO THE BRUTE CREATION DOCTOR DOG-MATIC, &C Louisa Sensitive had noticed the figure of the dove on my surface, and had distinguished me above my associates by always returning me back again into her purse, whenever she took out any money to make a purchase. Nor did she part from me at last, till I had been some time left solus and disconsolate in her pocket. She at length paid me away to a tradesman in Bond-street, for a new beaver-hat for her boy; which, she said, would surely be lucky to him, since it was bought with Tunicary's money. I passed through a variety of hands, so speedily as to leave me no opportunity for observation, till I reached a situation in which I feared I was 354 DESCRIPTION doomed to remain an indefinite period, — this was into the possession of Mrs. Jemima Scrimp. I have somewhere seen a print representing the ghost of a scrag-end of a neck of mutton ; and my new mistress was a living personification of the artist's idea : for she was literally nothing but skin and bone. If it be desirable to be the object of a lady's adoration, I certainly was adored by this singular female. After gazing fondly upon me for a considerable time, she kissed me most affection- ately before she put me into her pocket, where, if I had been of an earthly nature, I must inevitably have been smothered in pungent dust. She was a spinster of respectable connections and handsome fortune ; but, at the same time, so exceedingly penurious as to deny herself of all the comforts of life, except rappee, which, in conse- quence of having lost her box, she carried loose in the same pocket in which I was unfortunately deposited. She rented a small house in St. James's Place, in order that she might be near the Parks. She saw no company, except two or three strange beings as eccentric as herself. Her domestic arrangement was not peculiar : She had a man and a maid-servant, who had lived with her several OF MISS SCRIMP. 355 years ; for, in her particular way, she was not an unkind mistress. She had never been beautiful ; but she did not want sense or good-nature, nor was she deficient in the usual female accomplish- ments. At the age of nineteen she had been betrothed to an officer of Dragoons ; and after the day of their nuptials had been fixed, and their mutual friends assembled to celebrate the event, he shame- fully deserted her for a handsomer and richer bride. Her hopes being thus blasted, her feelings publicly outraged, and her affections cruelly wounded, she ever afterwards lost all relish for society, and confined her regards to the lower orders of the animal creation. In one corner of the drawing-room was placed a couch, the materi- als of which were satin that had formerly been white : This was the resting-place for one of that species which is called a pug-dog, and which is the ugliest and the most worthless of all the canine race. This was the prima donna, or first favour- ite of the establishment, which consisted in all of a noisy white macaw, a green parrot and a grey one, five cats of various colours, a Java sparrow, 356 ILLNESS OF A and a squirrel. These were all fed and tended with the greatest care; and, strange as it may appear, though my mistress was the essence of self- denial in regard to her own indulgences, she grudged these creatures nothing. A joint of the best meat, a loaf of the finest bread, and a quart of new milk, were taken in for them every day. But her two ancient domestics took especial care to reserve plenty for themselves, before this provender reached its ulterior destination. The sole purport of Mrs. Scrimp"^ life seemed to be, her attention to these animals. The second day after my arrival, she appeared to be greatly distressed by the growling and ill- nature of pug in the corner, who was dull, snarling, and snappish, and did not eat its food with the usual voracity. John was called in, and narrowly questioned as to his having taken it a walk in the park on the preceding day, and soundly rated for his carelessness in allowing it to wet its feet in returning. She then sat down, and wrote as fol- lows to her friend Mrs. Faddle, who lived in Mon* tague-square : FAVOURITE TUG. 357 w My Dear Faddle, " I have been a good deal alarmed to-day u on account of the indisposition of the Duchess ; " and as I am apprehensive that it is an oppression a upon the nerves, arising from confinement and " want of society, I beg the favour of you to spare " your dear little Pompey to come and spend the " day with her, and cheer her spirits. Lest you " should be under any apprehension, that Pompey " (sweet fellow !) should take cold in returning " home in the evening, I have made arrangements " to accommodate him with a bed in the same " apartment with the invalid. Pompey may be " safely trusted to the care of John. I remain " tho' very dull, " Ever yours affectionately, " Jemima Scrimp. 1 ' John took this curious epistle, and in about an hour returned with as characteristic an answer : " Mrs. Faddle presents her compliments to Mrs. " Scrimp, and sincerely condoles with her on " account of the dear Duchess's illness, and is " grieved it should so happen that Pompe w v was " gone out to spend the day with Miss Fidele, the 358 ILLNESS OF A " Lady Dewlap's great favourite, and will not be " back till to-morrow ; when Mrs. Faddle will " call upon her dear friend, and have the pleasure " of bringing the young gentleman along with " her. She hopes then to find that sweet inter- " esting little creature, the Duchess, in better " health and spirits. In case of the necessity of (( calling in medical aid, Mrs. Faddle encloses the " address of the celebrated Mr. Matic, whose fee " is one guinea."" My mistress sat up the greater part of the night with the canine Duchess on her lap, and was up again at an early hour in the morning. Before she sat down to her own breakfast, she dispatched John express for the doctor, alias Mr. Matic, who resided in the New Road near Somers Town, and had an inscription in large characters over his door, " Seminary for the Education of the Canine Race ;" — which was not at all inappli- cable, for he had an establishment of a most exten- sive nature for the breeding, bringing up, and breaking in of dogs of all descriptions. By Mr. Marie's skill in their management, and in the cure of the diseases to which they are liable, he had risen, from the humble situation of whip- FAVOURITE PUG. 359 per-in to the Melton Hunt, to fame and opulence in the metropolis, and drove a horse and dennet such as would not disgrace the first high-bred whip in Hyde Park. He also had his youthful groom, who waited for him in his carriage whilst he attended upon his patients. He received applica- tions from all quarters to prescribe for favourite dogs or fashionable puppies. An accoucheur of considerable practice of a similar name, resided on the opposite side of the road, — a fortuitous juxta- position, which frequently led to unpleasant mis- takes : For instance, a lady who was very near her confinement, sent in great haste for Mr. Matic ; and, whilst she was looking most anxiously for assistance, our Canine Doctor made his appearance, with a quart bottle of some vile decoction in his hand, when she screamed out in disappointment, and exclaimed with the poet, " Throw physic to the dogs — I'll none of it !" To obviate such inconveniences as these, and to distinguish him from the gentleman over the way, he is now universally styled Dog Matic, and these disagreeable metonymies never occur. His new appellative is descriptive of his surlish charac- 360 ILLNESS OF A ter ; for he will not submit to the slightest contra* diction. I never met with any man who was equal to him in impudence, except the Quack Doctor whom I have previously described. About eleven o'clock in the forenoon he drove up to Mrs. Scrimp' s door, at which his dapper little servant gave a thundering rap, which echoed through every part of the premises. Mr. Matic entered the room without ceremony, where the disconsolate Jemima was leaning, with affectionate concern, over the interesting invalid. " Your most obedient, Ma'am, 1 ' said the bold intruder, " quite a menagerie ! What a devil of a " noise those squalling parrots make.'" Here he trod upon the tail of one of the cats : " Curse the u cat — how she has scratched my leg I — Nasty " brutes, I hate them ! There's not an animal in " the creation worth a farthing, except a horse and " a dog. Where's my patient ?" " Here she is, sweet creature," said Mrs. Scrimp, " she has not been out of her bed these two " days." " Indigestion ! Somebody has given her a cork " or a piece of spunge. Give me a hold of her : " I'll soon set her to rights !" And he took the FAVOURITE PUG. 361 Duchess rather roughly into his hands, and cer- tainly did contrive to make her Grace gulp down a bolus or two with infinite dexterity. " For mercy sake, take care how you handle " the delicate creature," said the frightened Mrs. Scrimp. a I'll tell you what, Ma'am, if these pills should " not have the desired effect, and you find the " brute feverish in the morning, the only thing " you can do — " " O Sir ! I'll do any thing to preserve her pre- " cious life. What is it, Sir ?" " Not to shave her head, Ma'am, — but to bite " off' a bit of her tail — the nicest way in the " world J" " Merciful me ! I hope there will be no neces- " sity for that." " I hope not, Ma'am. But I must be off; for " I ha\e fifty patients to visit before dinner." My mistress drew me slowly from her pocket and gave me to Mr. Dog-matic, who eyed me very attentively as he rubbed me briskly between his finger and thumb ; and, after a moment's pause, he said, " Do ( iyou know, Ma'am, that this new VOL. I. R 362 ILLNESS OF A " coinage has been of serious injury to many a " modest medical man?" " How so, Sir?" " Why, this piece of gold, you know, is worth " no more than twenty shillings. Now, we profes- " sional folks never do business for any thing less " than a guinea, and you will excuse my xvant of " modest?/ upon this occasion, when I tell you I " cannot afford to be thus docked of a shUling*'? The lady gave the odd shilling with evident reluctance, and I moved off with my new master, who called upon at least a dozen dogs at the West End of the town before he returned home to din- ner, which was served up in a sumptuous style. A lady arrayed in elegant costume, who was called Mrs. Matic, presided at the table : Her appear- ance was somewhat equivocal ; she might be his wife, though I never did see her marriage-certi- ficate. The next morning I was conveyed through the premises by my possessor, and felt a degree of astonishment at their extent, arrangement and cleanliness, — and at the vast number and variety of beautiful animals, from the noble Newfound- lander to the elegant Italian Greyhound. The FAVOURITE PUG. 363 extraordinary sagacity of many of these creatures, that almost entitled them to rank with beings pos- sessed of higher intelligence, was scarcely credi- ble ; and the value attached to several of them was equal to the price of a high-bred hunter. A gentleman soon afterwards called to take away a beautiful Spanish pointer, which had been some time in training expressly for him, and for which he was to pay twenty-five guineas : He tendered a Bank note to Mr. Matic for thirty pounds ; I was given in change and transferred to the Hon. Mr. Tresseline. e 2 CHAPTER XXXIV. MR. TRESSELINE's VISIT TO CARLTON FALACE— A CONVERSATION AT HIS MAJESTY'S TABLE. The Honourable Mr. Tresseline is of an ancient family, and possessed of a good fortune. Most of his mental qualifications are of the negative kind ; yet his company is so much in request, that with- out him no party in the gay world is accounted complete. His conversation is seasoned with humour, rather than wit. His remarks are seldom profound, but they are never severe. He listens with extraordinary patience to whatever even the most tiresome proser is pleased to utter ; and some people are more pleased with this qualification than they would be with the eloquence of Cicero. He is equally at home in the boudoir, and in the dining-room. He has always in readiness his acros- tic, charade, or sonnet, for the ladies ; his song, MR. TRESSELENE. 365 anecdote, or recollected hon-mot for the gentlemen. He does not make the most insipid triflers sensible of their own inferiority while in his presence, and he never intentionally sports his joke at the ex- pence of another's feelings. His gaiety and good humour are inexhaustible. I cannot therefore sum up his character better, than by saying, " He is the polished Puxleaey of high life." Mr. Tresseline is a great favourite at Carlton House, and on more occasions than one I have formed part of his accompaniments at that Royal mansion. In a spiritual sense, a palace is of no more consequence to me than a cottage ; but since I must speak of earthly things as a being of this world, I cannot regard this regal edifice with satis- faction : It might be suitable enough for the Prince of Wales ) but is altogether unfit as a dwelling for the King of Great Britain. I hope a palace upon a grander and more extensive scale will be erected in its stead,— one that may be worthy to become the residence of George the Fourth. Some little time after I had been with Mr. Tresseline, he was invited to dine at his Sovereign's table ; and, as he had some business to transact with Sir B. B., he went earlier than usual. While 366 CONVERSATION AT he strolled through several of the sumptuously furnished apartments, I saw much to admire, yet but little to astonish. I was particularly pleased with the arrangement of the splendid collection of warlike instruments in the armoury. I gazed at the brilliant polish of some, and at the exquisite workmanship and ingenious contrivance of others : But the reflection " that these were all so many " human inventions, for the destruction of human " life/"* was not quite in accordance with the feelings of my refined nature. I shuddered at the bare idea of beholding the blood of some unfortunate victim upon the blades of many of these instruments of death : I could not therefore view them as appro- priate embellishments for an English Palace. But, in another respect, it is with peculiar satis- faction I remember my visit on that day. Several distinguished personages were present : for our accomplished Sovereign is never so happy as when he is surrounded at table by men eminent for their genius and talents, and it is at such moments that he appears to peculiar advantage. His Majesty never forgets his dignity, while he is the most condescending of monarchs, and the completest gentleman in Europe. Acquainted with the prin* THE ROYAL TABLE. 367 ciples of almost every branch of science which may happen to come under familiar discussion, his Majesty is particularly skilful in developing the talents and eliciting the opinions of the learned and scientific, by the questions which he addresses to them on the particular object of their pursuit. This monarch's judgment, taste, and feeling, respecting every thing connected with the fine arts, are universally allowed ; and the easy familiarity of his manner and discourse is such, as presently to free every one in his company from undue restraint. Knowing the hazardous ground upon which I am venturing, I am tempted to give a sketch of what occurred on that occasion. Let it not be thought, that by this attempt I am exposing the sacredness of private conversation, or encroaching upon the hallowed privacy of social hilarity : For if my observations were calculated to suffuse the cheek of the diffident with a blush, or to wound the feelings of the most sensitive individual, they should not appear. But their tendency, I hope, will be to divest Royalty of the stiff garb of cere- monial ostentation, and to exhibit our beloved Sovereign in the unrestrained intercourse of a 368 CONVERSATION AT polite gentleman, surrounded by a circle of accom- plished friends, who regard him with affection, respect, and admiration. Mr. Tresseline knew and was well known to all the company present ; one of whom was Sir Cop- ley Branston, to whom, in the course of the repast, the King thus addressed himself: " Sir Copley, I should have supposed from the " great extent of your practice, and the number of " years you have been engaged in your profession, " that your firm nerves had never trembled ; yet I " could not avoid observing, when you were about " to perform the operation which I required of " you some time ago, your hand trembled." " It is true, please your Majesty, I have had " abundance of experience, but I never before had " so much responsibility attached to my efforts as " at that moment : — I had to answer to a whole " nation for my success. For the first time in my " life, my hand certainly was tremulous ; but your " Majesty's firmness speedily dispelled my ner- " vous sensibility, and contributed greatly to assist " me in performing the operation in a satisfactory " manner. However, I must confess, I was very " glad when it was over." THE ROYAL TABLE. 369 a Indeed, Sir Copley, so was your patient. As <( to m} T firmness, it was a trifle. None of my " family was ever deficient in personal courage ; " and it would have been unpardonable in me to " have afforded the first example." Then suddenly changing the discourse, as he is wont to do, his Majesty addressed himself to my master; and, I confess, I felt a new sort of sensation at thus, for the first time, coming so closely in contact with a fellow Sovereign, not indeed of my own species, but clothed with humanity. " Tresseline," said the monarch, " have you " read < The Pirate B 1 What do you think of " this indefatigable writer ?" " May it please your Majesty, I know the opi- " nion which you entertain of the reputed author ; " any praises therefore that I could bestow, would " be superfluous.'" " I think he unnecessarily shrouds himself in " mystery : But I confess that he is a great favour- " ite of mine, both as a writer and a gentleman. " I assure you, I look forward to my tour to the " North with tenfold more satisfaction than I " should have done, had I not perused these inimi- " table pictures of the people. I knew well the r3 370 CONVERSATION AT " excellences in the character of my Scottish sub- " jects ; but I knew little or nothing of their man- " ners till I had read these vivid sketches from « life." Then turning to General Nervstein, nephew to the late Count De G. (who was formerly Ambas- sador here from one of the northern courts of Europe,) the King said, " General, are you as " fond of your pipe as that brave and excellent " man your uncle was ?" " Yes, your Majesty, when my uncle died, he " left me the two things which he valued most " when living — his sword and his pipe." " Then, I may venture to assert, you will use " them both well." " I hope so, for I always endeavoured to make " my uncle my model." " You could not have a better. He was the best " fitted for his situation of any Ambassador at " this court ; and he understood the relative inter- " ests of the two countries more truly, than any " foreigner with whom I ever conversed. I was " somewhat disappointed that you were not chosen " his successor." " I am flattered by your Majesty's compliment, THE ROYAL TABLE. 371 " and am assured that such was my own gracious " Sovereign's intention; for his Majesty sent for " me on my uncle's decease and said, ' Nervstein, M c I was desirous that you should have succeeded " c your uncle at the English Court, but you are so " y very thin and spare in your person, that I am " fc afraid the people there would not be satisfied. " ' The English consider a man as of no importance " 6 or weight, unless he be six feet high and have " c withal a corresponding bulk, or corporation , as " ' those consumers of turtle the London Aldermen " < would call it. 1 " The King laughed heartily at this exposition, and said, " I suppose his Majesty intended u that remark as a personal compliment to me.' 1 « Indeed, Sire, I could not reason my Sovereign " out of his opinion : for he said, * you shall sue- M \ ceed to your uncle's regiment and to the place he " 6 held in my esteem ; but I must look out for a << < larger man to send to England as my repre- « <• sentative.' " " Well, well," said the King, " if bulk be a " good test of talents, your uncle's successor is M < undoubtedly a great statesman. At any rate, I 372 CONVERSATION AT " am gratified by your domesticating yourself so " entirely amongst us." General Nervstein has married the daughter of an English nobleman, and resides near London. He is as brave a soldier as ever wore a sword, and distinguished himself greatly in the late war with France. He is covered with wounds ; and has a musket-ball in some part of his body which never could be extracted. Small in stature and of a thin habit, he is not more than five feet six inches high ; the calf of his leg is not bigger than a com- mon sized wine-bottle, and his arm appears to be shrunk away from the sleeve of his coat. After a variety of subjects had been discussed and the wine had circulated freely, the King, ad- dressing himself to General Nervstein, said, " General, I have often heard of your extraordi- " nary feats of strength, but from the apparent " slightness of your person I could scarcely credit " what I have been told. Will you have the " goodness to satisfy my doubts ?" " Most gladly, your Majesty ," and immedi- ately starting up from the table, he seized hold of roy master, and another gentleman^ who was next THE ROYAL TABLE. 373 to him, by the thick part of their arms, and ex- tended them at his own arm's length. He lifted them up and down alternately from the ground, in the same manner as the curious mechanical figures of a boy and girl are made to see-saw according to the stroke of the pendulum on the face of a German clock, much to the surprise of the two gentlemen who were operated upon, and greatly to the amusement of the rest of the company. On releasing them from his grasp, the General said, " I beg pardon, gentlemen, for my rudeness; " but you shall tread me under your feet for my " presumption," — and he laid the back of his left hand upon the floor, and requested Mr. Tresseline to set his foot upon it, and take hold of his right hand, when he lifted him up with ease from the ground to an elevation equal with the General's head, whilst Mr. Tresseline threw himself into the flying attitude in which Mercury is usually repre- sented, to the agreeable astonishment of the beholders. The General requested that five of the royal domestics might be called in : He took up one of them under each arm, one was placed on each of his shoulders, and a boy upon his head ; and with 374 CONVERSATION AT these living incumbrances he marched about the room without any difficulty, and with less appre- hension than those whose weight he sustained. He bared and exposed his arm, which appeared to be scarcely any thing except bone and muscle ; and the great anatomist who was present, declared, " that General Nervstein had displayed the most " wonderful exertions of muscular power that had " at any time come under his notice." It was nearly ten o'clock when these feats were finished, and his Majesty said, " That he must be " excused if he left the company at an early hour : " Soon after my last illness," the Monarch added, " I received a congratulatory address from Edin- w burgh, when the celebrated Dr. G. was one of " the deputation. On my requesting him to tell « me what he thought of my complaint, he said " he would recommend me to a Spanish Physician, " well-known in the time of Gil Bias. Doctor San-, *' graclo you mean — / have already been placed " under his regimen, by the advice of Sir Matthew " Tierncy. — ' Then,*' said Doctor G., * your Ma- " ' jesty should follow the prescription of another " * Spanish Doctor, famous in the Government of " ' Bai-ataria.'— Pray, tcho is he? for I did not at THE ROYAL TABLE. 375 " that moment recollect : — « Doctor Snatch- a- " < way,' was the brief and rather abrupt reply of " the northern Hippocrates. I was a little vexed a " his having formed such an erroneous opinion of " my habits ; and that you may not fall into the " same error, I must now wish you good night !" The company immediately dispersed ; and since, as a metallic spirit, I have mingled in the society of men, I never spent a more delightful day. I departed from the palace with the conviction, that when George the Fourth shall be more inti- mately known by his subjects, and more frequently seen among them, he will be idolized by his people, and become the most popular monarch that ever sat on the throne of England. CHAPTER XXXV. BRIGHTON JUVENILE FETE AT THE PAVTLION — his majesty's VISIT TO THE CONTINENT. In a few days after this visit, Mr. Tresseline accompanied his Majesty to Brighton, which is now become one of the most delightful watering-places in the kingdom. Great part of it is completely sheltered from the north winds; and is thus ren- dered a very agreeable residence, long after the time when the sea-side is usually pleasant. We travelled with such expedition, as would be scarcely credited by those who have not experienced the celerity with which a journey is now accomplished in England. We were little more than five hours upon the road, and I have our great lexicographer's authority for declaring, that it undoubtedly is a most delightful sensation to move forward with such extraordinary rapidity. In the course of one THE PAVILION. 377 stage his Majesty exclaimed, "Well, Tresseline, " this certainly is preferable to travelling in the " rough roads of Germany !" " Yes, but I understand your Majesty bore all " these desagremens without a murmur." " Why, if I had not pleasantly smiled at such " trifling inconveniences, I should have destroyed " my own comfort, and have derived no satisfac- " tion from my journey." We arrived late in the evening to dinner, at Brighton ; and I had then but little opportunity of viewing the Pavilion ; but when I had leisure for contemplation, I was grieved on beholding that massy structure, and shall always regret that so much labour and expence have been bestowed upon a confused pile of building without unity of design or harmony of proportion. It is impossible to say, to what style of architecture it belongs. No one can be satisfied with it as a whole, and it is not altogether what a British palace ought to be ; yet it is certainly fit for nothing but a palace. The morning after our arrival at Brighton, as my master was walking with his Majesty near the Marine Parade, they met an old woman who had a small basket with pincushions on her arm : The 378 THffiBE King in a tone of kindness and familiarity accosted her : " Ah, Phoebe ! how do you do ?" u God bless your Majesty! pretty well, I thank " you, considering I am upwards of a hundred " years old." " Well, I hope you want for nothing to make u you comfortable in your old age." " No, thanks to your Royal bounty ! But as *' I have always led an active life, it amuses me to " manufacture these trifles for sale. I am right " glad that your Majesty's safe home again ; and " since I have seen your face and heard your voice " once more, I shall die in peace. So God Al- " mighty bless your Majesty and preserve your " life as long as mine !" " Thank you, thank you kindly, good Phoebe ! " Good morning 1 "' — said our affable Monarch, and heartily shook hands with this female veteran. Phoebe Hessel was born in the reign of Queen Anne, and at an early period of her life enlisted as a soldier and served several years in the Fif- teenth Regiment of Foot. She had been present in many engagements, and was several times wounded. She served under the Duke of Cum- berland ; and at* the battle of Fontenoy, in the HESSEL. 379 year 1745, received a wound in her breast, which led to the discovery of her sex : She was of course discharged. But this circumstance did not pre- vent her from again entering the army, in which she served for a long time her King and country. She was always remarkably spruce in her person and accoutrements, and particularly attentive to the duties of her station. She was allowed to be a complete master, or rather mistress, of the broad sword ; but she never rose to a higher rank than that of a corporal. She is well known to all visit- ors at Brighton, where she has resided for several years upon the bounty of the King, and is always allowed ingress to the Palace, in which his Ma- jesty often listens with great patience and good- nature to her garrulous tale of other times. From this picture of extreme old age, I turn with peculiar delight to a scene in which the charms of infantine beauty and innocence were ex- hibited in a manner particularly gratifying to the sweetest feelings of my nature. A ball and supper were given, at the Pavilion, to the children of the nobility and gentry in the town and neighbourhood of Brighton. The invitation extended to all from six years old to sixteen ; and about sixty of these 380 JUVENILE interesting and beautiful young creatures were present. It was exceedingly amusing to observe a gallant gay Lothario of seven years of age solicit- ing the fair hand of a Lilliputian lady of six and a half, who, with a gracious smile of condescension, consented to take her place in the set, while she bridled up her head and adjusted her frock on her bosom with almost as much vanity as children of a larger size The King expressed much delight on witnessing the movements of this tiny " fairy-footed race,"" as they threaded the elegant mazes of the dance. Their glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes testified that their whole souls were engaged in the exhila- rating exercise ; and the dancing was kept up with great spirit and hilarity till about twelve o'clock, when supper was announced;, which was in- tended to close the amusement of the evening. These juvenile heroes and heroines were no fairies at the supper tables ; for ladies and gentlemen six feet high could not have done greater justice to the good things which were spread before them. They were all well pleased with their entertain- ment, and felt reluctant to separate. A consultation was accordingly held among the more sagacious ENTERTAINMENT. 381 portion of the juvenile assembly, who had reached their teens ; and a beautiful little urchin of six years old was deputed as interpreter of their wishes. It was a most gratifying sight to behold this infantine cherub, perfectly unconscious of the breach of etiquette which she was in the act of committing, but full of the importance of her embassy, peering up in the King's face, and lisping out her petition to be allowed another dance. His Majesty, with much affection, took her up in his arms, and kissing her, said, " Certainly, my love, if your young " friends wish it." The Royal consent immediately ran through the anxious and expectant circle, and they were kindly allowed to continue their amuse- ment till two o'clock in the morning: and none of them will ever forget their evening's entertainment at the Pavilion. I exceedingly regret, that I cannot enliven these pages with some of those rich specimens of humour and feeling so peculiar to the Irish character, and which were so strikingly displayed during his Majesty's visit to the sister kingdom. Notwith- standing the unhappy state of that oppressed people, the royal visit will, I trust, eventually tend to the mitigation of their sufferings and the future 382 ROYAL VISIT TO THE welfare of that fair portion of his Majesty's dominions. Those subjects who received their sovereign with such national enthusiasm, will not be suffered to remain in their present degraded condition. During the time of my being in Mr. Tresseline's possession, I had an opportunity of hearing much about the king's recent journey to the continent. The inhabitants of Brussels testified very little either of curiosity or respect on that occasion ; and the cold and stiff formality with which his Majesty was welcomed by the members of the House of Orange, but ill accorded with the hospitality which they had received in this country, and with the incalculable advantages which they had derived from the battle of Waterloo. Where would the King of the Netherlands have been, had the event of that decisive day proved disastrous ? However, it must be acknowledged, that the generous kindness displayed by the inhabitants of Brussels to our sick and wounded after the battle, was but ill repaid by the misery which was entailed upon their domestic peace in several instances. Tenderness and pity soon ripen into love ; and the numerous cases of ill-placed and ill-requited affection broke FIELD OF WATERLOO. 383 many a maiden s heart, or destroyed for ever the connubial felicity of formerly happy families- These cruel recollections might probably operate on their feelings, in the reception which they gave to George the Fourth ; and his Majesty could not feel much regret on quitting Brussels. But what must have been the sensations of the King of England, when he was side by side with the Duke of Wellington on the field of Waterloo ? And what must have been the noble conqueror's feelings, when, in the company of his sovereign, he traversed that splendid theatre of his glory ? As soon as his majesty arrived within view of this memorable field of warfare, he stopped and looked around him for a short time : He was particularly thoughtful and unusually silent as he rode along, and asked no more questions than were necessary to elucidate the nature of the attack and defence, and the variations of the battle. The whole of the King's deportment bespoke a dignified seriousness ; and there was more of sadness than of exultation pourtrayed in his Majesty's features. When the party had viewed most of those objects which were worthy of observation, they came to a particular spot which the Duke of Wellington pointed out— 384 ROYAL VISIT " It was here, please your Majesty, that the " Household troops and the Greys so nobly turned " the fortune of the day." " Brave fellows !? exclaimed the King. The Duke continued : " The onset was irresisti- " ble, and the carnage dreadful. Hundreds of " French Cuirassiers were here precipitated into a " pit which is now nearly filled up." " Poor fellows ! Most bravely did they fall !" said the King, as he turned his head aside and rode hastily away. If any of the French Cuirassiers, who opposed our heavy cavalry at Waterloo, are now living, I wish them to know, that the King of England shed a tear over the grave of their fellow-soldiers who fell on that hard-fought day. I cannot avoid thinking, that they would be gratified by such a tribute to the memorable valour of their gallant comrades, and would be convinced that English- men are always ready to do justice to the bravery of their enemies. CHAPTER XXXVI. DOCTOE VOLUBLE's ASCENT TO CELEBRITY MISS pedigree's PARTY, &C. Mr. Tresseline had taken up his abode at the New Steyne Hotel, being shut out of the Old Castle Inn ; which is now converted into a Chapel Royal, and but ill accords with the surrounding buildings. Its staring red front looks as if it were blushing for what it once had been. He had scarcely got settled, when he was seized with some- thing like a fit of apoplexy, or a determination of blood to the brain. Immediate medical aid being necessary, Dr. Voluble was called in ; and after he had attended my master for three or four days, I was included with several more companions in a fee to the polite physician. This dashing son of Galen sported a splendid equipage ; dressed in the most extravagant style ; vol. I. s 386 dk- voluble's and, if not equal in skill to the most eminent, he was considered as eminently fashionable. He is an instance of the extraordinary dexterity with which some men make their way in the world. He can- not recollect his parents, and is ignorant of the place and period of his birth ; though from the earliest dawning of his intellect he was of an acute and inquisitive disposition. At an early age he set out upon his travels with an itinerant mountebank, who had formerly been serving-man to a country apothecary and was a person of tolerable educa- tion and some parts. Young Voluble learned much from this master ; and perceiving the ease with which he juggled the world, by his charms for the tooth-ache, and his nostrums for the ague and almost every complaint to which man is liable, he had regard to the future establishment of him- self in the profession. His situation was an excel- lent school of improvement ; for he travelled with this empiric through nearly every town in the kingdom ; and often when he was playing the zany at a country fair, he considered the crowd below him as an epitome of the world itself, and acted accordingly. On such occasions he took good care, that the profits of their united labours did not go entirely into his masters pockets. ADVANCEMENT. 387 Having saved a considerable sum of money during his novitiate, he procured a diploma from Aberdeen, went to London, hired an elegant chariot with a capital pair of horses, took a hand- some ready-furnished house in Montague-square, which contained an extensive library ; but he never consulted any other books, than Buchan's Domes- tic Medicine, Hooper's Medical Dictionary, and the London Pharrnacop&ia. He attended no Lec- tures, nor pursued any other course of studies, than a few lessons from M. Pas-de-trois of the Opera House. From the feats of agility which he constantly performed with his mountebank master, he had obtained a perfect command over all the motions of his limbs ; and he acquired from the Frenchman a fashionable finish, which qualified him to enter a room in as graceful a manner as any peer of the realm. Doctor Voluble was a good- natured man, and had some honest residue of con- science in his composition ; for he resolved, when he first ascended to the higher part of the profession, that if he did not do his patients any good, his medicines should do them no harm, and nature was generally left to perform the rest. As it was impossible that any respectable person s2 388 dr. voluble's should discover the Jack-pudding in the petit maitre physician, he commenced his operations without fear or scruple, dashed at once into genteel prac- tice, and soon acquired a name. " There is nothing to be done in our line with- " out a name," I heard him say one day to a friend. " That," replied his friend, " I should suppose " is more easily obtained than retained ." " Quite a mistake, my dear fellow. Those who " nauseate physic, will take flattery without a wry " face. It was but yesterday that I was sent for " by Lady Mary Mimosa, merely to administer " half an hour's soothing conversation. If once I " lay hold of a patient, I don't easily let him slip. " The rough blunt mode which was once the " fashion, is now exploded, with the wig and the " cane. Smoothly as oil, I talk my patients into " good-humour with themselves ; and they never " think of leaving me — till they die." The source from which the Doctor derives his income, is as good as the fee-simple of a large estate, — the credulity and ignorance of mankind. But as he was obliged to live in a very expensive style, he began to turn his attention to the better- ADVANCEMENT. 389 ing of his condition by means of matrimony, and he had come to Brighton in pursuit of a young lady whom he had never seen, but who had been recommended to him bv his friend Mr. Gull, the Stock-broker, as a twenty thousand 'pounder at least. It often happens, that a person is over- looked in London, who cuts a great figure at a watering-place. Doctor Voluble therefore thought he should have a better chance of success with the lady at Brighton, than in the metropolis ; especi- ally as he brought a letter of introduction from his friend Mr. Gull to Miss Pedigree, who was acquainted with his selected fair one's family, and at whose house there was a probability of their meeting each other. The next day after the doctor had presented his credentials, he was invited to spend the evening at Miss Pedigree's residence, with a select party of friends ; and thither were we accordingly con- veyed. Among the various characters in the com- pany, that of our hostess herself held the most prominent station. She was a spinster on the wrong side of fifty-rive, and had acquired the unenviable distinction of being called " an old maid." But she had good sense and good humour 390 miss pedigree's enough to laugh at the appellation. Her prospects of connubial felicity having been destroyed in her youthful days, she wisely preferred remaining in a state of single blessedness, to the precarious chance of happiness with a man upon whom she had no affection to bestow ; and she was a living proof, that there are such beings in existence as sensible and agreeable old maids. She had one foible, which yet was a harmless one, — she was a walking chronicle of family intelligence. Every word, that any individual uttered, served her as a hint for an anecdote : and I cannot better exhibit her manner, than by giving the substance of her own remarks to a gentleman, who addressed her just as we entered, and concluded his speech by the sage notice, that it was a very cold sharp evening. Miss Pedigree immediately rejoined : " Your remark, Sir, reminds me of Miss Sharp, " that never grows old. He is always in spirits, " toujours gaie. Like a swan, he would sing, I " believe, if he were dying. Indeed he is descended " from a singing family. His mother was a Miss *' Carol, an Irish lady, who had a most delight- 41 ful voice, very like the first Mrs. Sheridan's. " She was rather faded when I knew her : But old " Signor Rondonelli told me, he once heard her " at a private concert at Bath ; and that Mr. " Chauntly, this man's father, fell in love with M her voice, and married her for Vox et preterea " nihil, as they say in Latin. Dr. Voluble, will " you draw a card ?" Her tongue ceased as the card-tables were made up. Near the table where my master was placed, sat a little old gentleman with a dark-brown coat and gilt buttons, who said, " he never played " whist ; indeed the only games he ever knew were " All-fours and Beggar my neighbour.'''' " Perhaps, Sir," " said the Doctor, you have " no objection to bet upon the odd trick ?" " Why," said the other, as he rummaged his pocket ; i( I have a crooked sixpence somewhere s3 394 BARTHOLOMEW WICK. " about me, and I don't care if I do, for I have ** a notion it will bring me luck." The Doctor, who had acquired in his juvenile career a complete command of his cards, seemed to take great pains to lose his money, and the gen- tleman in the brown coat had much pleasure in winning it. In a short time the Doctor requested change, and I came into the possession of Mr. Wick, who, with his daughter, a fine showy girl, very gaily dressed, retired from Miss Pedigree's party at an early hour, to their lodgings on the Marine Parade. CHAPTER XXXVII. RIVALRY BETWEEN THE FAMILIES OF WICK AND SL0PS0N INVETERACY OF ANCIENT HABITS, &C. Mr. Bartholomew Wick was a tallow-chandler and dealer in oil, in the neighbourhood of the Tower of London, and was more closely wedded to his trade, than were the Doges of Venice to the Adriatic. I never met with a man who inter- larded his phraseology so much with the terms of his art. He could not utter a sentence that did not smell of his shop, which was certainly not calculated to remind one of the perfumes of Arabia, From very humble beginnings, he had amassed a large fortune by serving the shipping with oil and candles. He was a widower, with an only daugh- ter, Miss Susan Wick, about nineteen years old, who was to inherit his property. He had also a maiden sister, who resided with him, but who had 396 BARTHOLOMEW WICK been so much indisposed on the preceding evening, as not to be able to pay her respects to her friend Miss Pedigree, for whom she entertained the pro- found est regard. Miss Winifred Wick, who was now about fifty years of age, had formerly been governess to the two Misses Dillydadlem, the tawny daughters of a man who had " made considerable pickings" as overseer to the estate of a minor in Jamaica. But on the return of the young ladies to the Western hemisphere, Miss Winifred came to reside with her brother, and to add a few of her finishing touches to the education of her niece, who was just enter- ing into life, or, as it would be more technically expressed, " had just come out." . Both the ladies possessed notions that soared far above lamp-wicks and candle-ends, and had per- suaded Bartholomew to take a trip to Brighton, (much against his inclination. In this favourite enterprise they never would have succeeded, had not their opposite neighbour, Mr. Deputy Slopscn, migrated with his family to Margate, — which was voted by our ladies as excessively ungenteel. The heads of these two great houses did not agree ; and there was as mortal a hatred between AND FAMILY. 397 the two families, as between the Montagues and Ca- pulets. The origin of the Slopsons was much upon a par with that of the Wicks ; for the representative of the first of these families w T as known, at a former period of his life, as a Dealer in Marine Stores, his whole stock consisting; of a few bunches of ancient rusty keys, various odds-and-ends of old iron, and sundry bundles of party-coloured rags. But, by some means or other, he at length obtained a contract from the East India Company for slops and bedding ; and he rose into opulence more rapidly than Mr. Wick, had more dashing importance in his external appearance, and his family had higher pretensions to gentility. But since Miss Susan Wick had left school, and, bv the aid of her aunt, had taken upon herself tlie management of her father's household, the scales had begun to preponderate in favour of the Wicks. The manners of our London citizens are much altered since the days of John Gilpin of facetious memory. A tradesman in the city is no longer ashamed to step into a chaise at his own door. The Wicks were not contented with a common 398 BARTHOLOMEW WICK post-chaise, but a travelling-chariot was hired for the occasion, into which stepped Mr. Bartholomew and the two ladies, whilst Miss Molly Matchlock exhibited her elegant figure upon the dickey. This youthful Hebe was lately cup-bearer or pot-girl at the Gorgon public-house, at Wapping Old Stairs ; but was now metamorphosed into Miss Susan Wick's own lady's-maid. This was the stylish mode in which they travelled, though Bartholo- mew would much rather have proceeded less osten- tatiously in the steam-boat to Margate, had not the thought of jostling against the Slopsons disturbed his imagination. All his care about fashion consisted in the full determination, cost what it would, to be equal, if not superior, to his opposite neighbour. For though the De- puty had got before him in the honours of the Ward, Wick was convinced he could equal the Contractor in the length of his purse. He had no sooner arrived at Brighton, than he declared, that he thought the hardest labour in which an industrious man could be employed, was, to have nothing to do. The morning after I came into his possession, he had risen at the dawn of AND FAMILY. 399 day, and walked along the beach ; from whence he had just returned as Miss Winifred and her niece were sipping their libations at the breakfast-table. He came into the room puffing and blowing for want of breath ; for he was somewhat pursy and asthmatic. Holding his periwig in one hand, he wiped the dewy moisture from his bald pericra- nium with his pocket-handkerchief in the other ; and, when he had recovered his respiration, he elegantly ejaculated, " Come Suke, let's have " breakfast ; for I am as hungry as an exciseman " in a hard frost. Walking on that there shingle 46 is as warm work as tending the copper on a mek- " ing day. I declare, I am all of a Poh ! " Well, sister Win, what are you and Suke " going to do with yourselves this morning ? Are " you for a dip r" " Brother, brother f said the delicate Iffes Winifred, " for mercy's sake don't mention the " words dip and melting-day here V " And my dear papa,"' said his daughter, "you " know you promised when you left home, that " you would never again call me by that odious " appellation Suke, or Sukey. Sukey Wick 400 BARTHOLOMEW WICK u indeed !, — one sickens at the sound. I am sure, " I shall never be easy till I get rid of such a " hideous name." " Unless you have done any thing of which you " ought to be ashamed, girl, your name will never " disgrace you. Your mother bore it before you ; " and, though I say it that should'nt say it, she " was formed in beauty's finest mould. She was " fair and lovely as a long six, and always as neat " and as nice as zvax." " Indeed, brother, your constant allusion to " your filthy occupation is quite outre, and abomi- " nable to a person of my classical attainments." " 111 tell you what, sister, the little glimmering " of learning you do possess, is just sufficient to " obscure the twilight of your understanding." " Well, but my dear papa, we came here, you " know, to be stylish and genteel, and to appear " like other fashionable people." " Don't tell me ! I came here to appear what *' I really am ; not to go about, like Guy Fawkes, "1 with a dark lantern in disguise, but with the " candle of truth in my hand, that every bodv u may know that I am Bartholomew Wick, TaU AND FAMILY. 401 " low-chandler and Oilman, of Little Tower- " street, and not ashamed of either my name or " occupation.'" " But surely, papa, whilst we are here you " might consent to forget the shop." " Never ! I make it a point of conscience never " to forget my friends ; and my shop is the best "friend I ever had in my life. And, as to fashion, " what am I the better for that ? Fashion has " introduced the gas-lights, and will be the ruin " of the tallow trade. Then again you talk about " taste : What has a dealer in train-oil to do with tc taste ? I don't know why I suffered myself to "be dragged to this place ; for I can't find a sin- " gle companion with whom to smoke a pipe in " comfort. And nothing would satisfy you, for- " sooth, but a lodging on the Marine Parade !" " Well, but my dear Sir," said his daughter, in a coaxing tone, " you know it is far superior to " Margate ; and I am sure you would not wish " your own darling Susan to be eclipsed in gen- " tility by Sally Slopson." " No, no, child ! Though I don't value gen- * 6 tility the snuff of a farthing candle, it shall never 40& BARTHOLOMEW WICK " be said, that a Wick was outshone by a Slopson" " That's right, brother P said Miss Winifred. " That whole family are mere Goffs and Wandals. " Come, my dear Susan, you know we are going " this morning to the milliner's, to sacrifice a little " at the altar of the Graces." " And do you hear, Suke — Susan, I mean, — " whatever sacrifice you make, let your dress be w rich enough to extinguish the pride of that low- 6i bred fellow Slopson's daughter. Here, here, " sister Win ! Here's money enough to cover you " both with finery from head to foot ;" and he thought himself as generous as a prince when he put me, with other four pieces of gold, into his sister's hand ; whilst he was distinctly heard to soliloquize in the following manner : " It is astonishing how some folks can pretend to shine in genteel society. Slopsons, indeed ! the up- starts !" Mr. Wick proceeded to the beach, as it was a favourite amusement with him to look at the bathers from a distance ; and it was a remark on which he prided himself, " that he never saw " a parcel of women rising out of the sea, but AND FAMILY. 403 " it reminded him of a string of long and lanky " rush-lights, when they had had but one or two " dips in the vat" CHAPTER XXXVIII. MISS WINIFRED WICK's ATTEMPTS TO ENACT THE PART OF A FINE LADY. My new mistress Winifred boasted greatly about her taste and gentility. She had an intimate friend, Miss Christy Mac Clavers, who was in the establish- ment of a foreign princess during the King's visit to Hanover, and had the honour of being saluted on the left cheek by his most gracious Majesty George the Fourth, — a full and faithful account of which she had carefully transmitted to her ac- quaintance Miss Winifred Wick, and expatiated at large on the graceful affability of the King in contrast with the starch formality of German dul- ness and etiquette. Our aunt Winifred was ex- ceedingly proud of this lady's correspondence, and had for ever at her tongue's end " as my friend Miss Mac Clevers says ;" " as Miss Mac Clevers CONTRABAND GOODS. 405 writes me word," &c. &c, which sometimes was almost too much for the patience of her niece, a frank and good-natured girl, but who felt a strong inclination to act the part of a fine lady. Miss Winifred was particularly susceptible of the tender passion, and anxious to be removed from the list of spinsters; her credulity therefore often led her into situations bordering very closely on the ridiculous. When the ladies visited Mrs. Taffety the milliner, she ushered them into a secluded room behind her shop, in which, she said, she kept those articles which were not intend- ed for the vulgar vision ; consisting of kid gloves, which, she declared, had been brought over from Dieppe in walnut shells ; and lace, for which, according to her assertion, she had herself paid three guineas a yard in Paris, though it had un- doubtedly been manufactured in Buckinghamshire. Such is the propensity or itching which many people feel for contraband goods, that they can- not withstand the temptation when it is offered. Nor is it surprising that smuggling should be car- ried on to such a daring extent, when many of the first ladies of the land so disgracefully encourage the base traffic by lending themselves to the silly 406' A MISTAKE infatuation of clandestsnely buying a bargain, The present opportunity was too tempting for Miss Winifred ; and a new dress was ordered to be trimmed with French lace as it was called, charged at double the price she would have paid for it at any reputable lace-shop in London. As they were coming out of this emporium of taste, a gentleman, in an elegant chariot, kissed his hand to them as he drove rapidly along; and, from the hasty view which Miss Winifred obtained of the heraldic bearings, she fancied that they were the emblazoned arms of a nobleman, and that the salutation was a compliment intended for herself: The next morning as she was sitting alone, arrayed in elegant dishabille, and reading a new and inter- esting publication translated from the German, entitled " the Errors of Sensibility," Molly Match- lock abruptly burst into the room and said, that there was a gentleman at the door in a chariot, who wanted to speak to Miss Wick, and that Miss Susan was not to be found, " Shew him up xi here," said Miss Winifred, " he wants to see " me * " Lauk, Ma'am ! he is a fine helegant man of " fashion." RECTIFIED. 40" (( Do as you are bid, girl, and don't exhibit any " of your Tower-street vulgarity here f* " Wulgarity, veil, I likes that, 11 — said this highly offended lady's maid, when she bounced indig- nantly out of the room. " It must be the Peer," said the agitated Wini- fred, as she bridled herself up to receive this noble visitor, when Dr. Voluble made his appearance, to the great mortification of the lady, who had ex- pected no personage of lower dignity than a Baron. The Doctor, on his part, was much chagrined at not finding himself in the presence of the fair object of his pursuit ; but the man of medicine immediately set his fertile imagination to work, and thought, if he could procure the aunt for a patient, he should have a plausible pretext for visiting the niece. Considering therefore strata- gem as allowable in love as in war, he remarked, " that he was fearful she was rather indisposed, H and that she must permit Dr. Voluble the honour ° to feel the state of her pulse ;" and he took her hand so suddenly that the ancient maiden had no time for playing off her squeamish airs, and ex- hibited no symptoms of resistance to the gentle 408 FASHIONABLE MODE pressure of the Doctor's fairer hand. He assumed an important air of gravity, and began to practise his incantations : " Hum, ha ! Colour faded. Don't " be alarmed, my dear madam ! The languor of " indisposition increases the effect of a fine wo- " man's charms." " Do you think so ?" said the somewhat asto- nished spinster. " Certainly. Art is always fashionable, and " has advantages of which nature cannot boast. " Rouge — admirable rouge ! — Eternally blushing, " and never out of countenance V " Notwithstanding your superior knowledge, " Doctor, I assure you, I feel myself perfectly " well.'" " A very alarming symptom indeed J I never " suppose my patients in so bad a way as when " they think there is nothing the matter with them; " for in such cases the patients are generally obsti- " nate, will take no medicines, and of course can " never be cured. 1 '' u But if I feel myself well, I can require no " cure. r> " A very dangerous error ! Never rely upon « your own feelings ; for you might fancy, that OF FAINTING AWAY. 409 81 you felt yourself in the best possible state of " health when I could readily prove, that your " whole frame was agitated with a peculiar and " unaccountable nervous affection. Give me « leave,— -hum, ha !" and he took out his gold repeater, and again felt her pulse. " I do not exactly know, Doctor, what you " mean by a nervous affection? " Why, madam, it is a kind of fidgetty, all- " overish sort of sensation, which a fine lady can " more easily comprehend than I can describe ; " and, fortunately for us medical men, it is never " out of fashion.' 1 " What ! has fashion any thing to do with the " human frame ?" " Undoubtedly ! — there is an undefinable spe- " cies of derangement of the nervous system, of " which we never allow the canaille to partake. It " is exceedingly becoming to a person of your " taste and ton ; but, to a vulgar low-bred body, " it would be of no use in the world." " Of what use could it possibly be to me f* " O dear madam ! Delicately managed, it would " render you one of the most interesting invalids vol. i. t 410 FASHIONABLE MODE " that ever gracefully reclined upon the couch of " indisposition : And I perceive, at this very " moment, something of the kind lurking in the " corner of your eye. 1 "' " You alarm me, Doctor ! Why, I declare, I " don't think I am altogether so well as I should " be." " O very far from it — very far from it indeed !" " I feel an odd sort of — " " Squeamish, all-overish sensation. Yes, I see " how it is." " O Doctor ! I shall faint, — do reach me a « chair !" " A chair ! O barbarous ! Never faint sitting ! " If you must swoon, let my arms support the " lovely burthen," — and he caught her in his arms as she was about to give herself a gentle fall, and fanned her with the lap of his coat. " See ! the drooping lily is reviving. Softly— " don't hurry yourself, madam ! Gently — -gently ; " take your own time. There — there — recover " gracefully by degrees." " Heigh ho ! O dear — where am I ?" " Recollect yourself, madam ! Don't be flur- OF. FAINTING AWAY. 411 " ried. — I protest, it was the most elegant suspen- " sion of the faculties I ever beheld." " Do you really think so, Doctor ?" <( Without the fear of contradiction ! Fainting u with elegance is a very rare and difficult accom- " plishment." " Then you really do think I fainted tolerably "in style?" " In a style that malice itself must admire, and " that Lady Diaway would envy. — But you must " be very much discomposed : Retire to your " chamber, — take a little repose, and I'll see you " again to-morrow." " Well, after this, I shall never rely upon my " own feelings again as long as I live." " Very dangerous things to give way to, indeed, " madam !" " Heigh ho ! O dear Doctor ! I believe you i c could persuade me to any thing. Let me see " you in the morning." The Doctor took his leave, well satisfied at having obtained such easy means of access to the family ; and my mistress actually took to her bed, where she slept very soundly for an hour, at the t2 412 miss wick's recovery. expiration of which time she was aroused from her slumbers in consequence of the arrival of some articles of finery from Mrs. Taffety, and I passed into the hand of this insidious dealer in contraband wares. CHAPTER XXXIX. MR. SMOOTH, THE COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER- HABITS OF PUNCTUALITY HIS HAPPY ESCAPE FROM SHIPWRECK, &C. I did not remain long with Mrs. Taffety be- fore I was paid away to Mr. Samuel Smooth, a traveller, or " bag-man," as it is the pleasure of Mr. Christopher North to denominate him. However much it may suit the purpose of the northern censor to ridicule this respectable body of men, I would advise any one of my readers who may have occasion to perform a journey that will occupy more than a day, to enquire for the inn which is frequented by these gentlemen, and desire to be shewn into the Travellers' room : He will then be sure of being accommodated with the best fare, and with the best bed which the house can afford, without the least shadow of overcharge or imposition. In the company you may probably 414 A COMMERCIAL meet with some travellers who have no lack of pedantry and assurance; but nearly all of them are well-informed gentlemen, and especially in their own particular pursuits, and a man must either be a fool or a cynic who cannot extract both instruction and amusement from the individuals with whom he may associate in a travellers^ room. Mr. Smooth was connected with a lace manu- factory at Berkhampstead, and was one of those favourites of fortune who glide along down the stream of life without ever meeting with squally or baffling winds. It has been said of him, " that if you stripped him naked, and threw him " over London Bridge with his feet and hands tied " together, you would meet him the next day " walking along the street, dressed like a gentle- " man, and with money in both his pockets." He is esteemed the luckiest traveller on the road, is eagerly sought after as an agent, and makes his own terms with his employers. Wherever he goes, he commands customers ; yet he never makes a bad debt : For he is so universal a favourite, and has such influence over those who entrust him with the execution of their orders, that, whoever goes unpaid, he is always sure to find the necessary sum TRAVELLER. 415 of money ready for him. He has received a good common education, possesses much native shrewd- ness and deep penetration, and, by long experience, has acquired an extraordinary aptitude to render himself " all things to all men." His person is prepossessing, his manners genteel, and his address insinuating ; but his complexion is rather too pow- erfully tinged with the juice of the grape. His voice is melodious, and he sings with taste and expression. He says the softest things in the sweet- est tone ; and having extensive dealings with sen- timental milliners and dress-makers, he occasion- ally pens them a poetical panegyric or a copy of love-verses. His own character is well expressed in the description which he has given of one of his male customers, in, what Mrs. Taffety terms, '* a very pretty piece of poetry :" His manners are as mild as milk, His sentences as soft as silk, His cheeks are crimson, and his nose Is blushing red as any rose. With all this pleasantry and easiness of man- ners, he is as regular as the sun ; and there is a sort of rivalry in punctuality, between him and a 416 PUNCTUALITY. Mr. Timothy Starch, one of the society of Friends, who is well known upon the road. Mr. Smooth goes the same route three times a year, and the Quaker traverses the ground in an opposite direc- tion ; and so exact are both these travellers to their time, that they have constantly met upon a bridge, which passes over a small stream in Warwickshire, three times every year for these seven years. .Last October, friend Starch arrived at the spot nearly two minutes before the usual time, and not a creature was to be seen. This was alarming, the more particularly as he felt the girth of his saddle to be loose. He dismounted with some trepida- tion, for the purpose of adjusting it; and cast his eyes fearfully around him : Still nobody was to be seen. Timothy heaved a sigh and re- mounted his horse, when Mr. Smooth made his appearance at the opposite part of the bridge; and they greeted each other with more than usual warmth and cordiality. As a spirit, I can discern the progress of events with a steady and unprejudiced eye. I do not pretend to pry into futurity, but I subject my judgment to the belief of an All-wise and Over- ruling Providence. The doctrine of Predestination FATALITY. 417 I leave to be settled by the casuists ; for I agree with Sir Roger De Coverley, " that much may be said on both sides." Maxims and proverbs are the collective wisdom of ages, concentrated in few words ; and there is a greater semblance of philo- sophy in the common saying, " that those who are born to be hanged will never be drowned," 11 than vulgar minds ever supposed. The truth of this adage was exemplified in a most extraordinary manner by an event which occurred a few weeks ago in Scotland. On a part of that coast, which is intersected by an arm of the sea, or Frith, a per- son on the shore, by the help of a glass, discovered a small boat overturned in the middle of the stream, at the distance of three or four miles from land, and a human being was descried sitting astride of the keel. The wind was high and the waves rough ; but, on the information being given, several boats were manned, and immediately put off to the assistance of this unfortunate individual. When he was brought safely to shore, it was dis- covered that he had stolen the boat that morning, and by his unskilful management of the oars had upset it in the foaming current, and must have perished by water in a short time ; for, when t3 418 MR. SMOOTHES ESCAPE relief arrived, he was nearly exhausted. He was clearly convicted of the theft ; for, though the stolen goods were not found upon him, he was found upon the stolen goods ; and he received the punishment which the law adjudges. There are many instances of particular indivi- duals, who seem to be impelled by fortune, fate, or destiny, (call it what you will,) and to be hur- ried on irresistibly to their destruction, or gently conducted to security, in a manner perfectly inscru- table to human comprehension. When Mr. Smooth was last at Liverpool, he remained there several days. Having at length transacted nearly all his business, he intended to pass over to Ireland on the succeeding day, and actually engaged a birth on board the Waterloo Packet that very afternoon. When he was coming up from the Quay, he met two ladies from London with whom he was on terms of intimacy ; and, on expressing his surprise at seeing them in Liverpool, they told him they were going over to Dublin to see the friends of the lady who was the elder of the two, and who ap- peared quite joyous and dated at the thoughts of her voyage, while the younger declared herself to be affrighted at the idea of crossing the Channel. FROM IMMINENT PERIL. 419 She could not divest herself of the impression that such exuberance of exultation was alarming, more particularly as a friend of hers, before she left home, had entreated her mother, with tears in her eyes, not to suffer her to accompany Mrs W. whom she was resolved not to disappoint. The other lady replied, " Pshaw ! I have " looked forward for years to the pleasure of this " excursion. And we can never see Dublin to so u much advantage, as we shall while the King is " there. I am more overjoyed than ever at the " thoughts of Mr. Smooth's sailing in the same u ship with us : We are sure to be safe with him, " — he is the most fortunate man alive.'" " I think myself happy in having the prospect " of enjoying your company, ladies,'" was his an- swer ; and they parted in high spirits, under the expectation of meeting again early in the morning, at the hour when the Packet sailed. On Mr. Smooth's return to his inn, he found a note from a tradesman, who had promised to settle his [account and pay him a considerable sum of money that evening. The note conveyed a request, " that Mr. Smooth would wait till the next day, and " excuse the hand-writing, which was that of his 420 mb. smooth's escape. " clerk ; for he had sprained his wrist, and was " unable to write an order on his banker that after- tC noon.'" This tradesman had not, on any former occasion, omitted to pay his balance at the time appointed : Mr. Smooth was therefore obliged to relinquish his birth on board the packet ; and his two friends, the ladies, were amongst the unfortu- nate sufferers, who were lost in the Waterloo Packet, when it was wrecked off the Welsh coast on the following day. When our traveller was con- gratulated on his escape, he confessed that he really was a lucky fellow, and expressed his thankfulness in rather a curious manner by melodiously singing the first verse of Dibdin's song, There's a sweet little cherub sits perch'd up aloft To watch o'er the life of Sam Smooth, &c. CHAPTER XL. THE ADVENTURES OF PEREGRINE OAKLEY, IN ENGLAND, AMERICA, AND CHINA. Mr. Smooth paid me away at the inn at Brigh- ton ; and after two or three days, I passed into the hand of Mr. Peregrine Oakley. The fortunes of this gentleman were not at all similar to those of Mr. Smooth. Scarcely any thing prospered in which he was concerned, yet he constantly insisted that all things worked together for his good. Reso- lute in his decisions, and prompt in their execution, he exhibited great strength of mind, and had an inexhaustible fund of good humour, with much firmness of nerve. The exuberant flow of his spirits never forsook him amidst all his troubles. In his boyhood he was sent to the High School at Edinburgh : One day, while passing through the Old Fish-market Close, a glass bottle was 422 PEREGRINE OAKLEY's thrown from a window of the seventh flat of one of those lofty houses. It inflicted a deep cut on his head, and his life was for a long time in jeopardy. Soon after he recovered from this accident, he was thrown from an unruly horse and broke his leg. It was however only a simple fracture, and soon healed. His father had sufficient interest to pro- cure for him an excellent situation in a public office, when he was seized with a fever ; and, with his usual bad fortune, the place was filled up before he recovered. His maternal uncle, who had no children of his own, then took him to learn the art of husbandry ; with whom he resided about three years. On returning home from market one evening;, the one-horse chaise in which he and his uncle were riding, was upset : Peregrine's shoulder was dislocated, and the old gentleman received so much injury as occasioned his death in a few days, — but not before he had bequeathed to his nephew a legacy of five hundred pounds. When this misfortune occurred, they were near the residence of Mr. Bootless, to whose house they were both conveyed. Young Oakley remained there till he was in a state of convalescence. He was kindly attended by Miss Maria Bootless, who ADVENTURES. 423 kept her brother's house ; and he thought the only method by which he could repay her, would be the offer of his hand, which she readily accepted. He then resolved to cross the Atlantic, in order to better his fortune ; and expended a large por- tion of his legacy in the purchase of such articles as were thought to be the most suitable for such a speculation. He arrived safely at Boston, in New England, where he met with an allotment of States' Land, the description of which was exactly to his mind ; and when he had paid his deposit he set out, with other adventurers, to take possession of their earthly paradise. After traversing a tract of country many hundred miles in extent and thinly inhabited, and after being subjected to every spe- cies of hardship and privation, he at length suc- ceeded in seeing his wife and infant, with all his property, safely stowed in one of the hatteaux of the country, with the intention of performing the navigation of Lake Ontario, which, with great loss and hazard, he finally accomplished, and arrived with his companions, sick, weary, and exhausted, at the much-talked-of settlement, in the Illinois, which, Oakley said, was " literally a land of pro. 424 PEREGRINE OAKLEY^ mise and nothing more ;" for not one expectation was fulfilled. Amongst the adventurous settlers was Mr. William Dibble, a personage one would have sup- posed the most unlikely to have been met with in the wilds of America. He had formerly been a haberdasher on Ludgate Hill ; but Billy had a soul above buttons, and, becoming averse to the trammels of trade, was seized with the mania of emigration. Figure to yourself a thin pale-faced little gentleman, with a large straw hat to guard his features from the sun, a flowered cotton dressing-gown tied with a ribbon round his waist, ungartered silk hose hanging loose about his legs, red morocco slippers discoloured with dirt, and his delicate fingers defended with black kid gloves, while he was in the act of spreading manure, — pic- ture all this to your imagination, and you have at once a striking portrait of Mr. William Dibble, As he occasionally wiped his brow with a silk handkerchief, highly perfumed, Mr. Oakley com- pared this spruce transplanted haberdasher to a daffy-down-dilly growing upon a dunghill. But he was better contented with his situation than many ADVENTURES. 425 who had gone out with stronger pretensions : For he was good-humoured to others, and tolerably well satisfied with himself. After a residence of some months in this place, our new settlers grew heartily disgusted with the society around them ; and, through the persuasion of one of the emigrants, who had penetrated much further into the interior of the country, Mr. Oakley determined to remove with his family, Mr. Dibble, and several others, to a place of settlement pointed out by this adventurer as more congenial to their views, and likely to realise their expecta- tions : For, notwithstanding the fruitfulness of the Prairies, the almost general want of water was destructive of every comfort which they might otherwise have enjoyed. These select associates departed, with all their worldly goods, on their pilgrimage to the borders of the wilderness, and never calculated within themselves the hazard which they incurred from the depredations of the native Indians. When they had been some weeks slowly travelling, they were suddenly attacked by a party of the Aborigines, who lay in ambush for the purpose. They were fired upon from various directions ; poor Mrs. Oakley and her child, with 426 PEREGRINE OAKLEY's Billy Dibble and several other persons, were killed ; Oakley himself was taken prisoner, and he never knew what became of the rest of his companions. He was compelled to travel as a captive with these savages many days till they met with three Indians of a different tribe, to whom he was given in barter for two bottles of rum. With his new Indian masters he experienced better treatment, though he was compelled to assist them in the manufactory of fishing-tackle, and in bearing burdens. He passed a long and bitter winter with them in one of their villages, many hundred miles up the country, in the centre of an almost impenetrable forest. In the following spring they set off, loaded with the furs of various wild animals, to meet some traders in these articles, at a place called the Portage of Cheppewyan. The spark of hope, which had never been extinguished in Oakley's bosom, then revived within him ; it soon burst forth into confident expectation, and into that full reliance upon Divine aid which had comforted him in the swampy desert, and had proved the chief alleviation of his sorrows in the wilderness. He contrived to obtain an interview with the leader of this hardy band of furriers, a ADVENTURES. 427 Mr. Fontolieu from Montreal ; to whom he repre- sented his situation in such pathetic terms, that this newly-found friend refused to transact any- business with the Indians till they had agreed with him for the ransom of their prisoner, whom he represented as " one of the subjects of their good Father that lived in the regions of the mid-day sun, on the other side of the great lake ;" and they presently accepted of the terms which he pro- posed. From Peregrine^ long residence with the Indi- ans, he became extremely useful in the future transactions which the furriers had with these people. The dealers in pelts penetrated to a great distance into the country of the Cheppewyan Indians, sometimes by land, and sometimes by water, and were often compelled to convey their luggage and canoes over ridges of rocks and moun- tains scarcely passable by human footsteps. Few are the things, however, which refuse to yield to determined perseverance. They at length reached a more open but swampy country, which led to a direct communication with the Pacific Ocean. From the great fatigue experienced in the execu- tion of this perilous passage, Mr. Fontolieu 428 PEREGRINE OAKLEy's began to droop and sicken. The deadly exhalations, which arose from the damp ground, increased his disorder ; and he soon fell a sacrifice to an inter- mittent fever. But, with his dying breath, he requested his followers to submit to the guidance and direction of Mr. Oakley, as the only means of preserving themselves from inevitable destruction. After paying the last sad tribute of respect to the mortal remains of this enterprising and amiable man, the furriers were extremely anxious to return home by the route which they had lately traversed ; but Oakley pointed out to them the hopelessness of such an undertaking, and succeeded in per- suading them to proceed forward towards the coast, where, in all probability, they would meet with some traders with whom they might take their passage to Canada. In the course of a few weeks, they obtained the object of their wishes, by reaching a small har- bour, called "Queen Charlotte's Sound," where they found two vessels from Salem, a sea-port not far from Boston. One of these trading-ships was to sail direct for that place ; and the other, after taking in a cargo of skins, intended to proceed to Canton, All the party, except Mr. Oakley, agreed ADVENTURES. 429 to take their departure in the vessel for Salem ; and he parted from them with sincere regret. I have perceived it to be a trait in human nature, that men always become attached to those who have been partakers with them in peril and distress. The other vessel remained some time to complete her cargo, the arrangements for which were greatly facilitated by the advice and assistance of Oakley, who had collected a valuable assortment of furs for himself. They had a boisterous voyage to Canton, where he disposed of his property to advantage, and selected those commodities which were most in request in the London market ; and, after an absence of several years, he arrived safely in England,— »a much richer man than when he left it. He now began to think that fortune had ceased to torment him ; and he had begun to consider within himself about some mode to dispose of his savings to the best advantage, when a fire broke out at the house in which he lodged, near the Com- mercial Road, London ; and every article of his property, including a large sum of money in gold and bank notes, which he had in his bureau, was 430 PEREGRINE OAKLEy's destroyed. As he had not taken the precaution to be insured, he was once more reduced to compara- tive poverty. Nothing was saved, but some loose notes which he had in his pocket-book : He had only time to snatch his coat under his arm, and rush out of the house, just before the floor of his apartment fell in with a tremendous crash. Oakley's mother was still living at Brighton, upon a small annuity, the principal of which would ultimately devolve on him at her decease. To that place he repaired, and resided with his aged parent till last year, when she departed this life in extreme old age. He had now a sufficiency for the comfort of his remaining days; but so strongly did the spirit of roving possess his mind, as to impel him to stand upon the beach and gaze for hours together upon the ocean, — the variable element which had been the scene of many of his adventures. His ardent wishes for further enter- prizing employment were frequently checked, by gratefully reflecting upon the dangers through which he had passed ; and, considering himself settled for life, he tried to reclaim the wanderings of his imagination. In all the disastrous events which occurred, he ADVENTURES. 431 was never heard to repine ; but, on the contrary, frequently made a jest of his own misfortunes. His fractured skull, he said, " was a very hard " case indeed ; for, without even the pleasure of " drinking, his head had suffered much from the " bottle? — When he recovered from his fever, and found he had lost the situation to which he had been appointed, he said, " he had more sincerity " than most courtiers; for he really rejoiced at " being out of office." — He certainly lamented the death of his uncle ; but he could not repine at the dislocation of his shoulder, although it brought on what he styled, " a palpitation of the heart > to " complete the cure of which, he fell in love with " the charming physician, and married his doctor."— His capture by the Indians was too serious for a joke : He loved his wife and child with the most ardent affection, and was pierced to the soul on beholding them slain before his face. But he derived a degree of comparative consolation even from this bitter affliction ; he viewed their death, which was sudden and scarcely the suffering of a moment, as a mer- ciful dispensation of Providence, which prevented them from falling into the brutal grasp of the savages. It was a favourite remark of his, " that 432 PEREGRINE OAKLEY's " his residence with the inhabitants of the desert " unaccountably developed his literary talents, and " he acquired attainments which fitted him for an " accomplished critic : from his familiarity with " the tomahawk and scalping-knife, he was enabled " to cut up an author with unsparing facility, and i( to flay a man alive with the dexterity of an Indian " Chief ." — The death of his amiable benefactor, Mr. Fontolieu, afflicted him more deeply than any other circumstance of that description; but it was the cause of his proceeding to China, where he realized his fortune. — The loss of his property on returning home, brought him to a proper sense of filial piety, in which he found himself to have been deficient ; and thus he enjoyed the enviable consolation of soothing the last moments of his indulgent mother. His grand principle was, that this is a world of trial, not of happiness ; and with his share of good and evil, (the former of which greatly overbalanced the latter,) he had no right to complain. I was wonderfully delighted with the buoyancy of spirit, and the enterprising energy of this man, in addition to his firm reliance upon Providence ; and, at the first moment of my feeling the touch SORROWFUL ANTICIPATIONS. 433 of his hand, which was a fortnight after the death of his mother, I was disposed to regard him with affection. I determined, therefore, to entrust the publication of my Adventures to his care ; for I was assured, that he would do me justice and not interpolate my manuscript with any of his own vain and ridiculous emendations. I had previously for some time imagined, that my earthly career was drawing towards a conclu- sion ; and I resolved to read over my MS. once more, before I consigned it to Mr. Oakley"^ pro- tection. When he placed my material body on his writing-desk, I felt my spirit expanding with the desire of adding a few finishing touches to my former observations. I sat down to the perusal of my Memoir ; and, as I proceeded, I alternately laughed and sighed at the recollection of scenes and circumstances now gone by. I was anxious to finish my task, for I had a powerful presenti- ment of some evil impending over me ; and, I am now sitting in an intermediate state between my corporeal and spiritual nature, with a pen in my hand, perhaps, for the last time. All my faculties and feelings are as vigorous as ever ; yet I am hovering, as it were, betwixt time and eternity. vol. i. u 434 THE sovereign's farewell. I must therefore hasten to bid adieu to this terrestrial globe and all its inhabitants. I will not call this fair fabric of creation, this glorious orb in which I have spent a short time of my embodied state, a bad or a wicked world. No ; the depra- vity of man's fallen nature, and the bad passions of the human heart, render the pilgrimage rugged and dangerous ; and the safest method of passing through it, is, in imitation of Peregrine Oakley, to rely firmly on the merciful Providence of God, who, as the Moral Governor of the universe, directs and over-rules all things to the wisest ends. Happy will it be for you, my gentle reader, if, like this worthy man, you can say, " I have always " cheerfully endeavoured to do my duty in that " station of life to which it has pleased God to call " me :" Sincerely hoping that you will profit by the perusal of my Adventures, I depart in peace with all mankind, and bid you heartily farewell ! CONCLUDING CHAPTER. BY THE EDITOR. On the 27th of December 1821, I was crossing the street directly opposite to the residence of Mrs. Dulse, who was standing at the door, cooling her round and ruby countenance. She dropped a curtsey, and accosted me with, " A merry Christ- " mas, Sir ! Do me the favour to step in." On entering the shop, her husband David Dulse issued from a little back parlour, saying, " Your servant, " Mr. Oakley ! Do you want to buy a bargain — " real India, Sir ! I know you are a judge," and he produced the article in question, which I was certain he must have obtained in a clandestine manner : I therefore told him, that I did not 436 THE FATE OF know he meddled with such hazardous merchan- dize. " Any thing, your honour, to turn an honest " penny. There are other fish in the ocean, be- " side haddocks. I sometimes stretch out to sea " for two or three days together, quite into the " Straits, you ken. And do you know, I believe " that the bit o'gold my wife gave you change " for, the other morning, had something in it " no cannie, as we used to say at Preston Pans : " For I observed it had the figure of a dow upon " it ; and I am sure it was either a witch or a " warlock. — Well, as I was keeping a sharp look- " out upon my cruise, I soon discovered a boat " drawing near me with a lady and gentleman on " board ; and as I knew by her trim that she " belonged to an Indiaman, I steered up right " athwart her and held up the coin between my " finger and thumb without speaking a word. " The lads slackened their oars, and an old ac- " quaintance, Tom Plunge, immediately hailed " me with c Hallo, David, my boy ! How are " < you ? Hand us over that there bit of a shiner, " \ and I'll swap my black Barcelona for it,' — and *< he drew it from his neck and threw it into my THE SOVEREIGN. 437 w boat. I knew there was more in this handker- " chief than met the eye, and I made similar " bargains with several of the boat's crew. As " you have been a sailor yourself, Sir, I am sure " youll never peach ; and that's the plain truth " of the matter, your honour ! You shall have a the Bandana dog cheap." "You'll excuse me, David/' I rejoined; "I " shall never betray you ; but I cannot conscien- " tiously encourage your trade," — and I left him rather abruptly and went to the coffee-room to look at the newspapers, in which I read the dis- tressing account of the loss of the Juliana East Indiaman in the Downs. I was convinced, that the boat, to which David Dulse had just alluded, was the one which was sent to put on shore the Purser and Mrs. Ogilvie, the wife of the Captain ; and that, according to the melancholy prediction, at the conclusion of these Memoirs, the Author has gone to the bottom in the pocket of poor Tom Plunge, with the rest of the unfortunate crew. As every one who has perused the foregoing pages must have been anxious to know what be- came of the intellectual piece of gold which indited 438 the sovereign's fate. them, I have added these few lines to shew, that it has met with a fate tantamount to dissolution, from which even a metallic Sovereign is not exempt. P.O. %* An indistinct rumour has been lately cir- culated, respecting a visit, in a diving-bell, to that part of the ocean in which the Sovereign was sub- merged. If this account be authenticated, the result will be regularly announced to the literary public. FINIS. James Niclwls, Printer, 22, Warwick-Square. BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. WIGHTMAX, 46, Fleet-street. i. A Compendious Abstract of the public general Acts passed in IV. Geo. IV, being the fourth Session of the present Parlia- ment of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, with Notes and Comments. 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