"^?<£*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 
 <fi much ! 
 
BBIT1SH PRIVILEGES. 39 
 
 " This Monsieur Poplar," say I, " must either 
 " be the famous Monsieur Nong Tong Paw, or le 
 " diable himself." 
 
 " I must own, my good friend," replied the 
 other gentleman, " it is somewhat remarkable that 
 wS this should occur all in one day ; but the high 
 " character of Mr. Poplar is well known, and serves 
 " to shew, that talents and perseverance will enable 
 " an English tradesman to obtain riches and honor 
 " without reserve, and to become a member of the 
 " most enlightened legislature in the world. I 
 " recollect nearly a similar instance respecting the 
 " same individual. When I was last in this opu- 
 " lent city, I saw Mr. Poplar in the course of one 
 " day sustain three of the characters which you 
 " have now described, in addition to that of Lord 
 " Mayor of London. In the latter capacity, 
 " about two o'clock on that day, he headed a most 
 " respectable procession, that was composed of the 
 " opulence and learning of the eastern part of the 
 " metropolis, and with his own hands laid the 
 " foundation-stone of a Hall, which now proudly 
 " < rears its head aloft" in Moorfields, for the accom- 
 " modation of a Literary and Philosophical Societv. 
 " He also delivered a neat speech on that occasion." 
 
40 AMERICAN ADVANTAGES. 
 
 " Ver well ! we cannot understand this in Paris. 
 " We say, that de English are a nation of 'shopkeeper 
 " But, by gar, de shopkeeper, de dealer in puffi- 
 " paste, is more of a gentilhomme than the Count 
 " in France or Germany. I do not think, Mr 
 " Ohio, you have any such stimulus to the acquire- 
 " ment of wealth and dignity in America.'" 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Noyaux ; our induce- 
 " ment is greater still. We are not yet luxurious 
 " enough for the due encouragement of poets or 
 (i artists. We have no hereditary honours amongst 
 " us, no long list of heroic ancestors about whom we 
 « may boast. It is true, we eannot monopolize wealth 
 " in the same degree as some of these proud islan- 
 " ders do ; but you will recollect, that the humblest 
 " individual in society stands his chance of becom- 
 " ino- the supreme ruler of the Commonwealth. 
 " And let me tell you, Sir, that we consider the 
 ** President of the United States as great a man as 
 «< the first Monarch in the Universe." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 EXPRESSIONS OF GENEROUS FEELING YOUTHFUL 
 
 SYMPATHY IMPOSTORS THE BANE OF CHA- 
 RITY, &C. 
 
 The attendant, in whose possession I was, hap- 
 pened then to be called away, and I heard no more 
 of this brisk conversation. I was at length given 
 to Mr. Poplar himself in his study, where he was 
 talking to a youth about fifteen years of age, whose 
 open countenance was pleasing as the dawning of a 
 summer's day, and whose light heart was joyously 
 exhibited in his laughing eye. He was going into 
 the country on a visit to his mother, before he 
 departed for the College at Hertford ; and had 
 called to take leave of the worthy Alderman, who 
 seemed proud of his youthful relative. 
 
 " Remember me kindly to your mother, my 
 " dear Frank ! And I trust you will never forget 
 " her instructions/' 
 
42 A REDUCED TRADESMAN 
 
 " Never, Sir ! I love her too well ; and I shall 
 " always love you for having been her benefactor." 
 
 " Well, my brave boy, Fare you well ! Put 
 " this letter into the post-office for me, as you go 
 " along ; and here, take this for yourself," — and I 
 glided gently into the stripling's hand. 
 
 He gazed at me for some time, as if to discover 
 those minute lineaments of countenance which are 
 not distinguishable at first sight, but which are 
 peculiar to my whole race. I was then placed has- 
 tily in his pocket, as he exultingly bounded out of 
 the house. 
 
 After depositing the letter in the Post-office, he 
 came away, and was " whistling as he went for 
 want of thought," when he was accosted by a 
 robust respectable-looking man in a flat-sided three- 
 cocked hat, such as might be seen in London in 
 days of yore, and are still common in Holland, 
 A snuff-coloured coat, worsted stockings, and lit- 
 tle brass buckles on his shoes, completed the pecu- 
 liarities of his dress. He appeared about sixty 
 years of age; and marched up to the youth, not 
 obsequiously, but with apparent frankness and 
 candour, and, taking him by the hand, he said ; 
 
AXD HIS STORY. 43 
 
 <c I beg pardon, young gentleman, for thus 
 ' abruptly accosting you ; but I see by your 
 4 countenance, that you have a feeling heart. I 
 1 have known the luscious sweets of plenty, but 
 4 am now fallen back in the world. I once held 
 ' my head as high as any of the proudest upon 
 i "Change ; but losses and crosses have reduced 
 ; me to poverty. I have a wife at home, who is 
 ( old and bed-ridden ; and an only child, a daugh- 
 4 ter, little better than an ideot ! We were burnt 
 1 out of our house not long ago, and we lost our 
 8 little all. My spirit was too proud to seek relief 
 from the parish. I am no common beggar, 
 ' young gentleman ; but, I am sure, you will not 
 ' suffer a fellow-creature to starve." 
 
 " God forbid P said the noble boy, as he 
 squeezed the petitioner's hand ; when, on search- 
 ing his pocket, he found no remnants of the less 
 precious metals, and I was the only piece of money 
 which he possessed. The blood rushed to his face 
 as soon as he had discovered this unpleasant want 
 of variety ; and generous though he naturally was, 
 he did not wish to part with his all. But, sud- 
 denly recollecting himself, he said, " If you will 
 
44 YOUTHFUL GENEROSITY. 
 
 " remain here for two minutes, I will return with- 
 " out delay ." 
 
 The old man gave a significant shake of the head, 
 as if in doubt. — " On my honour, Sir !" said the 
 youth, who was too ready an interpreter of these 
 assumed misgivings, " you may believe me' 1 — and 
 he darted into Lombard Street, where, at the first 
 shop to which he came, he requested the owner to 
 give him change, and I was unceremoniously 
 handed over to a little round-faced man behind the 
 counter. But never was I separated from any of 
 my possessors with stronger feelings of personal 
 regret, than those which I experienced when 1 was 
 paid away by this ingenuous youth, who returned 
 to the paved space in front of the small open 
 court for receiving; the letters at the Post Office. 
 — There he found his petitioner in waiting, threw 
 five shillings into his hand, and, with the tear of 
 pity glistening in his eye, hastened from the 
 scene. Some moments elapsed before his cheeks lost 
 the heightened rosy glow which they had assumed ; 
 and his heart beat high with approving emotion, 
 such as an angel of light would not disdain to 
 own, 
 
A SHAMELESS IMPOSTOR. 
 
 45 
 
 But it is scarcely to be believed, that the man 
 whom he had thus zealously befriended, turned 
 upon his heel, and, while pocketing the money, 
 laughed at the credulity "of his benefactor. This 
 veteran beggar was an impostor of the vilest descrip- 
 tion. He had formerly been valet and pander to a 
 man of high rank, who, for his convenient services, 
 had settled upon him a pension for life. He was 
 not in poverty, and had neither wife nor daughter- 
 Though he possessed what would have been deemed 
 a competency by a better man, he could not refrain 
 from the exercise of that vicious duplicity in which 
 he had been early initiated ; and he was to be seen, 
 for many years, practising his impositions near the 
 same spot. His constant method was, to address 
 himself to boys or very young men ; he accounted 
 them the most likely subjects to be deceived by his 
 specious stories. The principal part of the money 
 which the vile miscreant fraudulently obtained 
 from his benevolent dupes, was spent in a noted 
 public-house near the Tower ; where he might be 
 seen in the evenings, smoking his pipe, drinking 
 his brandy and water, and descanting in a lordly 
 tone on the profligacy of ministers and the corrup- 
 
46 
 
 tion of the State. How cruelly do these decep* 
 tions blunt the finer feelings of human nature, and 
 suppress the early appearances of charity in the 
 youthful breast ! 
 
 Candid, and generous, and just, 
 Boys care but little whom they trust, 
 
 An error soon corrected : 
 For who but learns, in riper years, 
 That man, when smoothest he appears, 
 
 Is most to be suspected ? 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SOCIABLE COMPANY IX A MAIL-COACH THE 
 
 ADVENTURES OF A SEA-CAPTAIN, &C. 
 
 My new master, the shopkeeper, transferred 
 me from his till to a young man of the name of 
 Hope, who was Clerk to an eminent Solicitor in the 
 Temple. Equipped in travelling habiliments, he 
 was waiting in his master's office for some cash and 
 final instructions respecting the object of his jour- 
 ney, when I was deposited in his purse with several 
 others of my kindred. There was no striking 
 peculiarity in his character ; but he was full of the 
 joyous ardour of early manhood, and almost every 
 thing he passed was viewed with zest, and commu- 
 nicated the interest of novelty. About half past 
 eight o'clock on a fine summer's evening, which 
 was bright and mildly glowing as the hopes of his 
 youthful existence, he entered the Bath Mail, that 
 was stopping to take up another passenger at the 
 White Horse Cellar in Piccadilly. 
 
48 TRAVELLING COMPANIONS* 
 
 The only inmates of the vehicle, beside himself, 
 were an elderly gentleman " with spectacles on 
 nose," and a beautiful girl about nineteen years of 
 age, who was seated by his side. After some 
 general remarks on the news of the day and the 
 fineness of the season, he recognized Mr. Hope as 
 the son of one of his first friends, presented him 
 with his card, and said, " If he was going far on 
 " the Western road, he should feel obliged if he 
 " would take the young lady under his protection, 
 i( as she was unused to travel by herself." The 
 young man felt exceedingly proud of this confi- 
 dence, and promised to shew the young lady every 
 attention in his power. The coach-door was 
 opened, and the old gentleman took leave of Mr. 
 Hope and his fair charge. A person with a harsh 
 weather-beaten countenance, for whom we had been 
 waiting, then entered ; and we were whirled away 
 with that dexterous rapidity of motion which a 
 istage-coachman delights to exhibit in driving 
 through the crowded streets of the Metropolis. 
 
 The lady and my youthful owner were soon on 
 that footing of familiarity which their introduction 
 warranted. Her conversation and her personal 
 charms were equally agreeable. She had resided 
 some time in Portugal for the benefit of her health, 
 
INFLUENCE OF SLEEP. 
 
 49 
 
 and was then proceeding on a visit to some of her 
 friends in Exeter. Her remarks upon the differ- 
 ence between English and foreign manners were 
 delicate and judicious, and her anecdotes of Eritisi 
 society in Portugal were full of point and vivacity. 
 Our fellow-traveller, after one or two " rough and 
 ready" seaman-like jokes and observations, quickly 
 gave loud nasal intimations that he was fast asleep. 
 Mr. Hope maintained an uninterrupted conversa- 
 tion with his interesting companion, till the 
 night was far advanced, when, after a short 
 interval of silence, she complained of an uncon- 
 trollable disposition to drowsiness ; and, making 
 some few ineffectual efforts at further discourse, 
 she was soon sleeping as soundly, though not quite 
 so sonorously, as her opposite neighbour. 
 
 Beino- thus left to his own reflections, which in the 
 bulk of mankind have a soporiferous tendency, my 
 master was himself presently lost in slumber ; and 
 when he awoke, it was broad day-light, and the 
 rays of the morning sun occasionally darted full 
 into the coach. Never did the sun shine upon a 
 more lovely countenance than that of the wearied 
 and sleeping fair one, whose head had impercep- 
 tibly during the night reclined itself upon his 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 A SUMMER MORN. 
 
 shoulder. If I had been formed of earthly mate- 
 rials, I cannot exactly define the kind of sensations 
 which would have crowded my imagination on 
 making such a discovery. My master gazed with 
 admiration on her heavenly features : But he was 
 afraid to stir ; for the least motion might have 
 disturbed the innocent dreams in which she seemed 
 to be indulging. However, she presently awoke ; 
 and, with a look expressive at once of timidity and 
 consternation, she hastily withdrew her head from 
 its improper and unexpected place of repose, while 
 her face was suffused with engaging blushes of 
 genuine female modesty. 
 
 Mr. Hope acted very judiciously, by avoiding 
 any allusion to the hardness of her pillow, or to 
 the refreshing slumbers which she had enjoyed 
 while in that gently recumbent posture. He 
 invited her attention to the beauty of the rural sce- 
 nery through which they were rapidly passing, and 
 which presented, at every turn in the road, fresh 
 objects of admiration, " tinged with the soft and 
 rosy hues of morn." Their renewed conversation 
 awoke the gentleman in the opposite corner, who 
 now appeared like " a giant refreshed" after his 
 slumbers ; for he entered into discourse, with a 
 
BRITISH SAILORS. 51 
 
 degree of light-hearted volubility that was as de- 
 lightful as it was unlooked-for, and accompanied 
 with a blunt, yet frank, sincerity of manner, which 
 so often distinguishes the character of a British 
 naval officer. He had been an actor in many of 
 those brilliant achievements by which our navy sig- 
 nalized itself at the beginning of the late French war, 
 and which were the precursors of those more splen- 
 did victories that at length swept all our oppo- 
 nents from the ocean, and left our gallant seamen 
 no further serious occupation. I call them " our 
 gallant seamen ;"" for I consider myself a true-born 
 British spirit, first brought into existence, as an 
 individual sovereign of standard purity, on Tower- 
 hill. I may therefore be expected to appreciate, 
 with correctness, their magnanimity and courage. 
 Indeed the service has suffered by the excess of 
 their valour, and they have been ruined by their 
 own almost miraculous deeds. British sailors, 
 who were lately the dread and glory of the world, 
 are now neglected and forgotten ; for the fighting 
 part of " their occupation is literally gone." 
 
 Our hero was the celebrated Captain S. ; and 
 ungrateful indeed must his countrymen be, if they 
 
 d 2 
 
52 BRITISH SAILORS. 
 
 cease to remember his gallant exploits. He spake 
 to his companions in the coach, 
 
 -Of most disastrous chances ; 
 
 Of moving accidents, by flood and field ; 
 
 Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' th' imminent deadly breach ; 
 
 Of being taken by the insolent foe, 
 
 And sold to slavery, &c. 
 
 After relating a variety of entertaining adven- 
 tures, he concluded with the following narrative, 
 which I shall give in his own words. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A SEA-CAPTAIN^ SHORT STORY HIS CAPTIVITY- 
 RELEASE FROM CONFINEMENT, &C. 
 
 " Almost at the commencement of hostilities, I 
 was cruizing on the West Indian station, in a 
 small sloop of war, of which I was then second in 
 command ; when, in a desperate engagement with 
 an enemy , s ship of superior force, our captain 
 and a number of the men were killed, our vessel 
 captured, and the remainder of the crew were sent 
 on shore on one of the smaller islands then in the 
 possession of the French. Being the only officer 
 whom heaven protected from death, I was marched 
 at the head of those of my comrades who were able 
 to walk to the common prison of the petty capital 
 of the island. 
 
 " We certainly could not boast of the splendour 
 of our apartments or the sumptuousness of our fare : 
 
54< a sea-captain's 
 
 For the former had nothing to recommend them, 
 except bare stone walls ; and the latter consisted 
 of damaged biscuit and dirty water. The busi- 
 ness of the toilette is soon arranged in any prison ; 
 but it was despatched more quickly in that dreary 
 abode, than in any other of which I have been 
 unhappily one of the inmates : for we had no other 
 changes of linen or of clothes, than those which we 
 wore when we entered our place of confinement. 
 Nor did the boasted politeness of our enemies 
 supply us with any superfluous articles of dress, 
 which they found belonging to us on board their 
 prize. 
 
 " Our prison amusements were few and monoto- 
 nous; and the principal diversion which our 
 thoughts received, was from a daily visit to a 
 grated window which overlooked an open square 
 or court-yard, of no great extent, in which it was 
 a wonder to descry a single individual of our spe- 
 cies. Trifling as this indulgence may appear to 
 one at liberty, to us, who felt some of the horrors 
 of confinement in a sultry climate, it proved a high 
 gratification ; and we looked forward with anxiety 
 to the hour which enabled us to inhale, through 
 the well-secured casement, the exhilarating coolness 
 
SHORT STORY. 
 
 55 
 
 of the sea-breeze. But this refreshment both to 
 body and mind was only of transient duration; 
 for we were generally hurried back to our dun- 
 geon, before we had time to enjoy the limited 
 prospect, or to 6 drink in a full stream of vital air."' 
 The remainder of our time was passed in stricter 
 durance, where we lay squalid and wretched, sick 
 and desponding, without any stimulus for conver- 
 sation, or relish for it when occasionally introduced. 
 Indeed, several of my companions in misfortune 
 sunk under their sufferings, and died broken- 
 hearted and in despair. 
 
 "We were incarcerated in small, dark, and 
 loathsome cells, without any mitigation of our 
 miseries for several months. In one of my daily 
 visits to our breathing-place, the iron bars of which 
 reached within two feet of the ground, I had 
 planted myself against one side of the window, 
 with my arms folded, and my eyes fixed on the 
 fine blue sky, as if regardless of any thing terres- 
 trial. When I withdrew my attention from the 
 bright heavens, the sight of which to a sailor is 
 almost as reviving as the face of an old acquaint- 
 ance, a tall thin figure of a stern visage, indented 
 with wrinkles, caught my observation. He wore a 
 
56 a sea-captain's 
 
 huge cocked hat, from under which a few strag- 
 gling grey hairs had escaped half-way down his 
 sunken cheeks, and the remainder were fastened 
 together in a long queue, that extended downwards 
 nearly as low as the skirts of a blue coat, obsolete 
 in its shape and dimensions. His legs were im- 
 mersed in a tremendous pair of military boots, 
 which reached half-way up his thighs ; and he was 
 armed with a tall and substantial gold-headed cane, 
 which he occasionally carried like a musket on his 
 shoulder, as he marched backwards and forwards 
 at some little distance from our prison. I fre- 
 quently observed him, with both his hands clasped 
 upon the top of his cane, that at the same time 
 served as a resting-place for his chin ; and I 
 imagined, that he fixed his eyes intently upon my 
 countenance. What a hard-hearted old cynic he 
 must be, thought I, to gaze upon so much misery, 
 and with such little apparent concern ! Sometimes 
 I fancied I could discern a gleam of compassion 
 break through the cloud of his rigid features ; and 
 there was an upright dignity in his deportment, 
 that induced me to suppose it could not cover a 
 heart of meanness and depravity : and on that day, 
 when the man in the blue coat was no longer to be 
 
SHORT STORY. 57 
 
 seen, I felt an indescribable sort of disappointment, 
 which, on subsequent reflection in my cell, I 
 ascribed to the extreme paucity of those who made 
 the court-yard a place of resort. 
 
 " After a week had elapsed without my again 
 beholding him, one morning I remained with my 
 eyes open for a considerable time, before I could 
 believe myself to be properly awake ; for I had 
 dreamt, that I was returned to my native cottage 
 in Devonshire, and I seemed still to feel the warm 
 embraces of my good old mother, who pressed 
 me with transport in her bosom. But when I 
 started from my miserable pallet and found it but 
 a dream, my weakness overcame me, the tears 
 trickled down my cheeks, and I sobbed aloud for 
 some minutes like a child. This ebullition, how- 
 ever, relieved the torture of my feelings. I uttered 
 my morning orisons to the gracious Author of my 
 being with more than usual fervour, and proceeded 
 with confidence and resignation to my wonted sta- 
 tion at the window. 
 
 " I had not waited long before my acquaintance 
 in the cocked hat once more made his appearance ; 
 and my heart palpitated with uncontrollable agita- 
 tion when I saw him advancing towards me with a 
 
 d3 
 
58 a sea-captain's 
 
 firm and martial step. As he approached he 
 touched his hat, with the dignified politeness which 
 an officer of rank displays in the salutation of his 
 inferior ; he then addressed me in French, nearly 
 in the following terms : ' Young man, you seem to 
 ' have been born to better prospects, I have long 
 i pitied your misfortunes'' — He paused. 
 
 " Sir, said I, it is so long since I have heard 
 any sounds, save the harsh voice of our jailor 
 and the wailings of my fellow sufferers, that 
 your words of pity are as a cordial to my wounded 
 spirit ; and I thank you sincerely for your con- 
 dolence. 
 
 " ' I am a man < »f few words," 1 replied he, ' I am 
 ' the Governor of this island, and on one condition 
 
 * I will set you at liberty.' 
 
 " Ah ! do not trifle with the wretched ; but I 
 fain would think you as incapable of offering 
 me dishonourable terms, as I am of accepting 
 them. 
 
 " * Sir, if I had supposed you undeserving the 
 
 * confidence of a man of honour, I should not have 
 
 * proffered my assistance. I shall see you on this 
 
 * spot to-morrow, 1 — and with a slight inclination 
 of the head, he disappeared. 
 
SHORT STORY. 
 
 59 
 
 " High and various were the perturbations of my 
 mind during that restless night. Hope and fear 
 alternately assailed me; and, after building a 
 thousand castles in the air, I fell into a broken 
 slumber, and woke in the morning with my heart 
 fluttering between doubt and expectation. A few 
 minutes sooner than his usual time, our jailor 
 entered, and told the prisoners, that he had orders 
 to treat them with less rigour in future, and that I 
 was to follow him into the court-yard, where he 
 left me in the presence of the Governor, who 
 bowed and thus addressed me : 
 
 " ' Now, Sir, to your terms of release ! Do not 
 4 interrupt me till I have finished my remarks. I 
 6 have been all my life in the service of my coun- 
 
 * try, and several years Governor of this place. I 
 4 tell you in confidence, that I do not approve of 
 
 * all the measures of the present rulers of France ; 
 
 * yet I considered it my duty, both for the sake of 
 
 * my country and my family, to remain at the post 
 
 * which Providence had assigned me. When my 
 
 * country was attacked by foreigners, I did not 
 ' think it was proper in me as a soldier to quarrel 
 ' with the government at home. I knew the shameful 
 < and rigorous treatment which you received, and 
 
60 a sea-captain's 
 
 '. remonstrated on the subject ; but it was in vain. 
 6 All my motions were narrowly watched by an agent 
 I of the Directory, who has now left the island. 
 ' Had I ventured more directly to interfere in 
 6 mitigating your sufferings, it is probable that the 
 
 * lives of myself and my children would have paid 
 ' the forfeit of my imprudent manifestation of 
 ' humanity. I am a rough soldier, unused to 
 4 compliment, and incapable of flattery ; but I 
 
 * am a father, Sir, and can feel for you. I have 
 ' two sons and three daughters, who have arrived 
 ' at that age when the passions are strong and the 
 c heart susceptible. They are amiable, though t- 
 4 less, generous, and affectionate ; and if you will 
 
 * promise on your word of honour, — that you will 
 f not form any sentimental or tender connection in 
 < my family, — that you will not endeavour to lead 
 
 * astray the judgments of my sons or the affections 
 
 4 of my girls, — and that you will not suffer your 
 ' acquaintance to deviate either into friendship or 
 i love, — on these terms you shall become an inmate 
 6 in my family till I can procure your exchange. 
 6 And when you part, it must be done at once, and 
 
 5 no subsequent correspondence will ever be per- 
 s mitted. I feel for you as a man, but I must not 
 
SHORT STORY. 
 
 61 
 
 ' forget that you are the enemy of France. Now, 
 * Sir, if you accept my conditions, follow me. 1 
 
 " I made no scruple of assenting ; for none but 
 those who have long been deprived of the glorious 
 light of day, or who have been prevented from 
 breathing the free untainted air of heaven, can 
 form any notion of my feelings at that moment. 
 Enveloped as I was in rags and familiar with filth, 
 I certainly thought more about freedom from cap- 
 tivity, than about either friendship or love. The 
 good old man re-iterated his injunctions as we went 
 along, and added this as his chief reason for such 
 precaution : f I do not wish the cheerful serenity 
 1 of my domestic enjoyments to be ruffled, or my 
 4 children's happiness to be destroyed." 
 
 " In about half an hour, we arrived at the 
 Government-House, which was situated in one of 
 the most delightful vallies of the Island. Though 
 not large, it was constructed in such a manner as 
 to afford comfortable and convenient accommoda- 
 tions to a genteel family. Its interior was fitted up 
 in rather an antique style, which bespoke taste and 
 refinement, devoid of splendour and ostentation. 
 I followed my venerable guide into a spacious 
 saloon, in which all the members of the family 
 
62 a sea-captain's 
 
 were assembled ; and I was so shocked on viewing^ 
 myself in a mirror, which reflected my figure from 
 head to foot, that I sickened with disgust at my 
 squalid and uncouth appearance, and wished 
 instantly to retreat from observation. But the 
 Governor, taking me kindly by the hand, desired 
 me to advance, and said : f My dear children, this 
 6 is the English prisoner whom I mentioned to you 
 ' yesterday ; he is your enemy, it is true, but he is 
 ' an officer and a gentleman. After suffering a 
 
 * long and rigorous confinement, he is now your 
 f truest ; therefore remember the cautions which I 
 
 * have given you, and treat him as your hearts shall 
 f dictate.' 
 
 " In an instant they overwhelmed me with offers 
 of kindness and condolence ; they flew in different 
 directions to assist me with raiment or to bring 
 refreshments. But I followed the elder brother, 
 who j udiciously suggested the warm bath. I was 
 presently divested of my beard and tattered habili- 
 ments ; and when I found myself once more in 
 clean linen and decent apparel, and saw my altered 
 appearance in the glass, I involuntarily offered to 
 shake hands with my own image, capered about 
 the room like a man frantic with joy, and laughed 
 
SHOUT STORY. 63 
 
 so immoderately as to produce a-n hysterical affec- 
 tion that terminated in a flood of tears. The two 
 brothers attended me with affectionate solicitude, 
 calmed my agitation by degrees, and led me into 
 the saloon to partake of some viands which had 
 been provided for me by their sisters : For, with a 
 peculiar degree of delicacy, they did not allow any 
 of the servants to wait upon me at my first intro- 
 duction. 
 
 " I was again overpowered by the excess of my 
 pleasurable sensations, which became painful in the 
 extreme, and were not diminished by the warm 
 attentions of these lovely females. I could only 
 gaze and gesticulate ; for I was rendered utterly 
 incapable of pronouncing a syllable. My nerves 
 were unstrung, and I had a ravenous appetite : 
 Yet I felt faint and sickly ; and the same choaking 
 sensation in my throat, which prevented my utter- 
 ance, hindered me likewise from swallowing sub- 
 stantial food. At length I drank freely of a very 
 refreshing beverage, delightful to the palate, bat 
 which bewildered my faculties ; so that I found it 
 impossible to keep myself awake, and after reposing 
 upon a sofa for some hours, I awoke, as I thought* 
 in Elysium. 
 
64 a sea-captain's 
 
 " As soon as my eyes were open, each individual 
 vied with the rest in tenderness and assiduity. The 
 sisters hovered about me like ministering angels, 
 and prevented my suffering from repletion or 
 unnecessary exertion ; for I was exceedingly weak 
 and exhausted, through the severity of my confine- 
 ment, and the want of due nourishment and exer- 
 cise. 
 
 "In a few days, I was nearly restored to my 
 accustomed vigour and hilarity. I recovered my 
 looks and my appetite, and soon found myself 
 completely domesticated with this charming family. 
 The young men had been educated by the best 
 masters that their father could procure. Their 
 acquaintance with general literature was very exten- 
 sive, and they were well skilled in all the manly 
 exercises. In their company I explored every 
 corner of the Island, for the purposes of hunting, 
 shooting, or fishing, as the weather permitted or 
 our inclination dictated. With the father I engaged 
 at billiards, chess, or picquet. 
 
 " The daughters played, sang, and danced with 
 feeling and taste : Their conversation was playful, 
 interesting, and affectionate; and they had an innate 
 sense of decorum and propriety, which imparted 
 
SHORT STORY. 65 
 
 an additional charm to the graces of their persons 
 and to the virtues of their souls. This preserved 
 them from many of those giddy sallies of witty 
 impertinence in which French ladies too frequently 
 indulge, and which, however familiar to natives, 
 are seldom relished by a well-educated English- 
 man. Their politeness arose not from the varying 
 and capricious rules of fashion, but it had its ori- 
 gin in an uniform wish to please, accompanied with 
 that confiding gentleness and ease which innocence 
 alone inspires. With them I read, played, sang, 
 and danced alternately ; and, when not engaged 
 with their brothers in more manly sports, I 
 joined with delight in their domestic amuse- 
 ments. 
 
 " Thus the whole family, of which I was an 
 inmate, formed one social circle, where all was 
 gaiety, happiness and peace. Every night when I 
 retired to rest, I taxed myself with the crime of 
 having felt a strong inclination to break my pro- 
 mise with the Governor. Most fortunate was it 
 for me, that there was more than one object to 
 excite my admiration ! The three charming sisters 
 were all viewed by me as equally fascinating ; yet 
 each of them was so different from the others, that 
 
66 a sea-captain's 
 
 it was impossible for me, who generally saw them 
 together, to resolve upon which I should have fixed 
 my affections, had I possessed the power of choice 
 without infringing my word of honour. Though 
 each of them was all that the heart of man could 
 desire ; yet to this day, whenever I reflect on those 
 pleasing by-past scenes, I am at a loss to determine 
 which of the lovely sisters I should prefer. 
 
 " One morning before we had quitted the break- 
 fast table, and whilst we were rallying each other 
 on the comparative merits of France and England, 
 the old gentleman opened the door and beckoned 
 me out of the room. He bade me take my hat and 
 follow him, which I did in silence for some time, 
 without noticing the route we had taken, till I 
 observed with a kind of horror, at a turn of the 
 road, that we were proceeding towards the Port. I 
 then broke silence, and asked whither we were 
 going, and what was the purport of our walk ? 
 The Governor looked earnestly upon me, and, I 
 thought, a tear glistened in his eye. 
 
 " S You must abide by my directions,' said he, 
 ' and it will save you and others much pain. A 
 6 cartel has arrived, an exchange of prisoners has 
 < been effected, and you will sail from the Island 
 * within an hour,' 
 
SHORT STORY. 67 
 
 " But, my dear Sir, you will allow me to return 
 
 and take 
 
 " 6 No, Sir ! I will have no leave-taking — no 
 
 * shedding of tears at parting — no pressure of the 
 
 * hand,, more eloquent than words — no uttering of 
 ' the painful Farewell, so destructive to the 
 6 future peace of mind !' 
 
 " Oh, Sir, allow me but one word ! one last 
 adieu ! 
 
 a t jyj 0T 0NE? gj r i Remember your promise P 
 
 " I seized the rugged veteran's hand between 
 both of mine, and, pressing it fervently to my 
 lips, I exclaimed, Allow me to express my grati- 
 tude 
 
 " ' Not to me, Sir ! I have only done my duty ; 
 4 and all the return I ask is, that, if the chance of 
 ■ war should throw a countryman of mine into 
 ' your power, you will think of your well-wishers 
 ' at the Government-House, and be kind to him 
 i for their sakes. You will find trunks on board, 
 ' containing clothes and every necessary for your 
 6 voyage. So now we must part. There is the 
 
 * vessel ! God bless you, Sir, and send you safe 
 
 * to your native shores P 
 
 " He turned hastily away, and proceeded with 
 a brisk pace in the direction of his home. I stood 
 
68 a sea-captain's 
 
 for some time motionless, and gazing in a bewilder- 
 ing stupor after the tall and dignified form of my 
 venerable benefactor, till he dwindled away to a 
 mere speck, and vanished from my aching sight in 
 the distance, I was strongly tempted to run after 
 him, and press to my heart the beloved objects I 
 had left behind ; but the laws of honour forbade 
 me. I hastened on board the vessel, and threw 
 myself upon my bed in an agony of contending 
 sensations, which do not admit of description. 
 
 " It was not till after the lapse of some days that 
 I partially recovered from the shock which my 
 feelings had received. But the pleasing ideas which 
 are excited by the prospect of a return to relatives 
 and friends, to home and country, exercise a 
 mighty influence upon the youthful spirit of a 
 mariner after a long absence ; and they soon wean 
 him from indulging in vain and useless regrets. 
 The diversity of company on board a cartel, the 
 hilarity of some, the sadness of others, and the 
 recital of the various adventures through which 
 each individual has passed, produce a salutary 
 effect on all parties, both on the gay and the sad ; 
 and while they form a soothing species of practical 
 amusement and instruction, during a long voyage, 
 
< SHORT STORY. 69 
 
 they insensibly assimilate the tempers and feelings 
 of the passengers to such a pleasing conformity, as 
 is not to be perceived in any other society of beings 
 invested with humanity. We were six weeks on 
 our passage home, and felt blithe and merry of 
 heart when we beheld once more the white cliffs of 
 Old England. I soon forgot many of my suffer- 
 ings, in the bosom of my widowed mother's family, 
 and among my juvenile friends. 
 
 " But I have not ceased to recollect the generous 
 and estimable mortals, who treated me with such 
 unexampled kindness during the more pleasing 
 period of my confinement on the French island. 
 Though I have never since seen or heard from 
 them, I still cling to the hope, that I shall see them 
 again. Their images are imprinted indelibly upon 
 my heart ; and the recollection of the commisera- 
 tion and the virtues which they displayed, will be 
 dear to me, to the latest moment of my existence. 
 It has, however, been my lot, on more than one 
 occasion since that period, to attempt a recompence 
 of their unbounded hospitality, in the persons of 
 some of their suffering countrymen.'" 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CONTRAST BETWEEN BATH AND BRISTOL — THE 
 ADVENTURES OF AN ACTOR, &C. 
 
 Soon after the sea-captain's narrative was con- 
 cluded, we arrived at Bath, where the party break- 
 fasted and separated : and I parted from my two 
 fellow-travellers with much regret. 
 
 The business upon which my possessor was 
 dispatched was not of the most pleasant description, 
 though executed by him both with humanity and 
 propriety. It was the arrangement of a trades- 
 man's affairs at Bristol, who was making a compo- 
 sition with his creditors ; and I confess, the conduct 
 of my young master on that occasion gave me a 
 bias in favour of lawyers, which I still retain. 
 Indeed this friendly feeling seems to be reciprocal ; 
 for lawyers evince in return a hearty affection for all 
 my kindred. Notwithstanding the universal outcry 
 against them, I have seldom discovered that legal 
 
BATH. 71 
 
 gentlemen are worse than the persons among whom 
 their transactions usually lie. After despatching 
 his business, my possessor had leisure for making 
 observations, and he was not negligent in improving 
 the opportunity. 
 
 Who is it that has seen the beautiful city of 
 Bath, without audible expressions of admiration? 
 And whojias not lamented, that, from the caprice 
 of fashion, it is no longer a place of general 
 resort ? At every step you take, some new object 
 of delight bursts upon your view, which is only 
 to be equalled by the charms of the surrounding 
 country. As we entered the Pump-room, the whole 
 Bramble family appeared in my mind's eye, — for 
 I had heard their comical adventures recited ; 
 and on looking into the King's Bath, the idea of 
 the powdered heads of antiquated beaux, ladies' 1 
 toupees, and aldermen's wigs, bobbing about on 
 the surface of the water, and gabbling together 
 like so many ducks in a pond, excited in me an 
 intellectual laugh, which, among metallic spirits, 
 is a more refined sensation than that felt by mortals 
 when they give utterance to a loud and debasing 
 cachinnus. Smollet and Anstey have given such 
 humourous and animated pictures of what Bath 
 
72 BRISTOL. 
 
 formerly was, as will compel all recent spectators 
 to exclaim, " What a falling off is here, in regard 
 to the number and quality of the company !* 
 
 Of all the gay places the world can afford, 
 
 By gentle and simple for pastime ador'd, 
 
 Fine balls and fine concerts, fine buildings and springs, 
 
 Fine walks, and fine views, and a thousand fine things, 
 
 (Not to mention the sweet situation and air,) 
 
 What place, my dear mother, with Bath can compare ? 
 
 This was written in the year 1776. And the place 
 itself is as delightful as ever, and even now has 
 charms and advantages, possessed by no other 
 residence, for a certain description of invalids, or 
 for those who wish to partake at a moderate expence 
 of the amusements which may be enjoyed in a small 
 circle of polished society. The buildings, the 
 shops, the inhabitants, and every thing else, have an 
 air of gentility, gaiety, and elegance ; and my 
 master quitted this city for Bristol, with an intima- 
 tion of regret, to which I was not insensible, though 
 safely lodged in his pocket. 
 
 Nothing can be more striking than the contrast. 
 The removal from one city to the other is like a 
 * sudden transportation from Grosvenor-square to 
 Ratcliffe-highway. Though only a few miles dis- 
 tant, you seem as if conveyed into a foreign land. 
 
BATH AND BRISTOL. 
 
 73 
 
 Every thing has undergone a transformation. The 
 tradesmen of the one place have a mortal antipathy 
 to the sJiopkeepers of the other. In Bristol the 
 sole business of existence seems to be the getting 
 of money ; and, in Bath, much of the serious 
 occupation of the gay is how to spend it. An 
 instance of the perversity of man is evident in the 
 assemblage of the merchants of the former city, 
 who, notwithstanding the handsome Exchange 
 which they possess, with every accommodation for 
 transacting their business, prefer congregating 
 together at the front of this building in the middle 
 of a narrow dirty street. 
 
 My master said, he had often heard it asserted, 
 that particular towns were famous for the beauty 
 or the ugliness of the females ; and perhaps he had 
 been prejudiced in this respect against Bristol. We 
 were present at an inspection of the military of the 
 district, which took place in Queen-square. It was 
 a fine day, and, one may suppose, there was no 
 lack of female curiosity. But never was an Eng- 
 lish multitude gathered together on such an occa- 
 sion, in which the dearth of female charms was so 
 glaring in my master's eyes. It must however be 
 recollected, that his sight had been previously 
 
 VOL. I. e 
 
74 BRISTOL. 
 
 vitiated by the beautiful loungers of Bath* whose 
 flitting images still floated in his imagination ; that, 
 in several mercantile cities, prudence assumes a 
 more severe and authoritative tone, than in places 
 of fashionable resort ; and that, in the former, the 
 ladies who attend military spectacles are seldom 
 accounted the most respectable in society. Pru- 
 dential considerations therefore often restrain the 
 charming female branches of the wealthiest fami- 
 lies from exhibiting any " appearance of evil ?' 
 especially when it is not always possible for them 
 to be escorted, to such an imposing and busy scene, 
 by their brothers or fathers, who, as merchants, 
 are men of regular habits and generally well occu- 
 pied at the hour of review. Yet, when absent 
 from home, and free from the prying observance 
 and scandal of excessive prudery, both mothers 
 and daughters frequent even the daily parade of 
 the military in the place of their sojourn ; and, 
 whether attended or unattended by their natural 
 protectors, they venture, like the rest of their 
 neighbours, to listen at least to the thrilling sounds 
 of warlike music, if a sly glance of the eye is 
 never cast towards the warrior, his gay attire, or 
 glittering accoutrements. 
 
CLIFTON. 75 
 
 Bristol is a great commercial city, and has in it 
 much that is admirable ; but to visit Bath before 
 Bristol, is not good policy in a traveller. From the 
 smoke of the glass-houses, from the dirt and bustle 
 of this noisy town, it is quite delightful to turn 
 aside to the romantic beauty of the Hot- Wells, 
 and the charming scite of the elegant village of 
 Clifton, which is, after all, a kind of beautiful 
 sepulchral abode ; for " death is in all her cham- 
 bers,"" and every step seems to lead one or another 
 down to the tomb. 
 
 Here were to be seen numbers of interesting 
 young creatures, in the last stage of that insidious 
 disease which holds out the cup of hope to its vic- 
 tims, till the very moment when they drop into the 
 grave. The lovely Helen D. particularly attracted 
 Mr. Hope's attention : She was walking on the 
 parade, leaning on the arm of an elder sister, who 
 gazed upon her with an intensity of pity and affec- 
 tion, whilst the beautiful invalid moved along with 
 a light but feeble step. Her form was so attenuated 
 and fragile, as scarcely to bend the blade beneath 
 her feet ; her complexion was extremely pale, and 
 the hectic flush on her cheek was lovely as the first 
 tinge of the morning upon the elevated summits of 
 
 e2 
 
Ytt* 
 
 iO CONSUMPTIONS. 
 
 the snow-clad Alps. Her eye was lighted up with 
 the fire of inspiration, almost divine. She talked 
 in an animated strain of vivacity to her sister, whose 
 voice faultered and betrayed itself while she replied 
 to her under the constraint of assumed cheerful- 
 ness. Bowing with sprightliness and gaiety to a 
 gentleman who passed, Helen said, "If you call 
 " to-morrow, I will give you your revenge at 
 " chess ;"" but — so deceitful are the symptoms of 
 this fatal disorder !- — before the morrow^ dawn she 
 had breathed her last. I had never beheld an 
 earthly creature so like an ethereal being ; and I 
 wished that I could have become her attendant 
 spirit, when, as an angel of light, she ascended up 
 to heaven. 
 
 Oh ! never was a form so delicate 
 Fashion'd in dream or story, to create 
 Wonder or love in man. 
 
 But it was one of the laws of our creation, 
 when I and my kindred received the splendid form 
 in which we now appear, that we should survive 
 many generations of men, and, unless destroyed 
 by accident, that the metals in which we are em- 
 bodied should at length become " the hoary chro- 
 niclers of other times." 
 
AN ACTOR. 77 
 
 I was paid away at the Bush Tavern in Bristol, 
 and was almost immediately given in change for a 
 five-pound note to a gentleman of but trifling his- 
 trionic celebrity on the London boards, but who 
 had then been strutting his hour away on the Bath 
 and Bristol stages, with some little advantage to 
 his finances ; and with the supply derived from the 
 receipts of a tolerable benefit, he was hastening to 
 the regions of infatuation, where his cash would speed- 
 ily " vanish into thin air :" For he was possessed with 
 the evil spirit of gaming, and played other parts 
 than those assigned to him at the theatre. The 
 power which this passion exerts over the heart is so 
 despotic, as to absorb every better feeling ; it ren- 
 ders those men callous who were formerly humane, 
 and those churlish who would otherwise have been 
 liberal. I could descant for hours on the destruc- 
 tiveness of this vicious propensity, if it be not rather 
 a symptom of a disordered mind ; but I shall suffer 
 facts themselves to speak aloud, and point the moral 
 of the tale, 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A FASHIONABLE RENDEZVOUS FOR GAMESTERS—- 
 
 A REGULAR GAMING-HOUSE VISIT FROM A 
 
 POLICE-OFFICER, &C. 
 
 I travelled with my new master to London. 
 He originally was heir to a handsome patrimony, 
 had been well educated, and, though an indifferent 
 actor, had a fine figure, with the manners and 
 address of a gentleman, and was a particular favou- 
 rite with a celebrated Countess, who always called 
 him hex pet player. He was however better known 
 in the green-room by the name of Lorenzo. No 
 sooner had we arrived in town, than he equipped 
 himself for a visit to the residence of the Countess, 
 in one of the streets adjoining Piccadilly, where 
 princes and players, peers and stock-brokers, 
 bankers and black-legs, Jews and Gentiles were 
 jumbled together in glorious confusion, and over 
 whom the noble hostess neither disdained to pre- 
 
A NOTED GAMESTER. 79 
 
 side, nor blushed to share the profits, which the 
 keeper of the bank is sure to obtain, with the 
 notorious Mr. Deuce, who is but too well known 
 upon the Turf, and in every circle in which the 
 demon of chance predominates. 
 
 This man's courage is as unquestionable, as his 
 character is equivocal. His manners are insidious, 
 and his command of temper complete. He is a 
 perfect master of his art, and proceeds to the ex- 
 treme verge of honesty without fear of reproof ; for 
 though he seldom loses, no one ever ventures to 
 dispute his claim. There are some odd points of 
 similarity between this superlative punter, and 
 Homer the prince of Poets. If one was a Grecian 
 the other is a Greek ; and the birth-place of the 
 one is as great a matter of uncertainty as that of 
 the other ; for though Mr. Deuce's memory is sur- 
 prisingly comprehensive on certain points, his 
 recollection is so defective on others, that he knows 
 nothing of his origin, his family, or even the 
 place of his nativity. He has laboured hard in 
 his vocation ; for, from the lowest obscurity, he 
 has amassed a princely fortune, aud may be seen 
 every morning in the fashionable season of the 
 year sitting at the window of a certain subscription 
 
80 GAMING-HOUSE IN 
 
 house on the right-hand side of St. Jameses-street, 
 with a quizzing-glass at his eye, in familiar colloquy 
 with some of the first nobles and commoners of the 
 land, who are not ashamed to call him their " very 
 good friend," and look up to him for his opinion on 
 the calculation of chances as oracular and decisive. 
 This mans successful progress, and the countenancee 
 bestowed upon him by the great, might have been 
 regarded as a satire upon the moral government of 
 the world, did we not know, that, in spite of exter- 
 nal appearances, he is wretched and unhappy. 
 Look at the deeply-furrowed lines of his face, the 
 dark frown that hangs upon his brow ! The smile 
 cf hilarity never lightens up his countenance ; his 
 smile is the grin of a fiend, exulting over his prey, 
 while the stings of conscience are gnawing at his 
 heart. 
 
 Fortune favoured Lorenzo on the evening of his 
 arrival; but the party breaking up rather sooner 
 than usual, he looked in at a noted gaming-house 
 in Jermyn-street. It is impossible to give an ade- 
 quate idea of one of these modern Hells, as they 
 are emphatically called. In their pestiferous pre- 
 cincts maybe seen persons, the most intimately 
 connected, labouring for each other's ruin with all 
 
JERMYN-STREET. 81 
 
 the assiduity and eagerness of the most inveterate 
 foes. Nor do those alone whom necessity might 
 stimulate to such a desperate course, but those 
 likewise who are blessed with the favours of for- 
 tune, give themselves up to anxiety and often to 
 embittered agony, for the wild hope of acquiring 
 something additional to the profits they have 
 secured, or of retrieving their losses. There some 
 of the noblest by birth are seated at the same table 
 with the vilest of the vile. Every black passion of 
 the human heart is there frightfully personified. 
 Every moment produces some sudden transition 
 from despair to exultation, from shouts of joy to 
 the most blasphemous execrations. 
 
 Great and extraordinary care is taken against 
 surprise. The windows are padded, to prevent the 
 sound of vociferations from being heard on the 
 outside. None but the initiated, or their friends, 
 are admitted within the doors. Scouts and spies 
 are on the watch, and every avenue is barricadoed, 
 and guarded with as much caution and regularity 
 as the approaches to a garrison during a siege. 
 The means of retreat are not neglected ; but that 
 evening the enemy succeeded, not by storm, but 
 by stratagem, A gentleman in military boots and 
 
82 VISIT FROM A 
 
 regulation mustachios appeared at the grated loop- 
 hole of the iron door ; employing the pass-word of 
 the night, the bolts and bars flew back at the talis- 
 man, and he was immediately admitted. He has- 
 tily followed the sentinel into the interior of the 
 fortress, where a promiscuous assemblage of game- 
 ful combatants were eagerly engaged. 
 
 When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war. 
 
 He no sooner entered the apartment than he pre- 
 sented a pistol in each hand, and swore that he 
 would shoot the first man through the head who 
 ventured to stir from his seat. He then shewed his 
 authority as one of the messengers from Bow- 
 street, made a grab at the Bank ; and whilst he 
 and the keeper of the cash were scrambling for the 
 money, several of the company made their escape, 
 some in one direction and some in another. 
 
 Amongst the rest Lorenzo, with the dexterity of 
 a Harlequin, made a flying-leap out of the window 
 and alighted on the leads of a neighbouring house, 
 from whence he as nimbly dropped down into a 
 water-but beneath. He was immersed up to his 
 chin in water, and whilst his feet stuck fast in the 
 muddy sediment, he found it impossible to extricate 
 
POLICE-OFFICER. 83 
 
 himself from his snug yet cool retreat. The noise 
 occasioned by his sudden precipitation awoke the 
 master of the house, who, apprehending the ap- 
 proach of robbers, threw up the sash of his 
 sleeping-room window, and, with a blunderbuss in 
 his hand, demanded in a thundering tone, " Who 
 " is there ? If you do not instantly declare your 
 K business, I'll blow out your brains V and he 
 cocked his carbine as he uttered these threatening 
 expressions. 
 
 The frightened Lorenzo was in a horrible alter- 
 native between fire and water ; but the love of life 
 predominated over the sense of shame, and, in the 
 most pathetic tones of his mellow and musical voice, 
 he exclaimed, " For God's sake, Sir, if you have 
 " any compassion in your bowels, release me from 
 66 my pitiable situation V 
 
 u Who are you ?" said the gentleman, " and 
 " what has brought you here ?" 
 
 <' I am an unfortunate personage, who have been 
 " routed out from the premises of your next-door 
 " neighbour by the officers of Police. Not wishing 
 " for an exhibition at Bow-street to-morrow, I 
 " made rather an abrupt exit out of the window ; 
 
84 LUDICROUS DISASTER. 
 
 " and, to avoid falling into disgrace, I have inad- 
 " vertently fallen into a tub of water !" 
 
 " O, ho ! Then a water-but is an excellent trap 
 « for a thief?" 
 
 " Bless my stars, Sir V said Lorenzo, " I am 
 " no thief; but, like Sterne's starling, I can't get 
 l i out — 7" can't get out.'''' 
 
 " Then you may safely remain where you are 
 " till day-light, and as I do not chuse to be any 
 " longer disturbed, I wish you good-night." 
 
 The sound of the sash, as it was violently pulled 
 down again, was heard by my master in utter dis- 
 may. But the occupier of the house was a good- 
 natured man, and he presently made his appear- 
 ance at the back-door with a lantern in his hand ; 
 and when he held it up to the rueful countenance 
 of the comedian, which was all besmeared with the 
 dirty fluid in which he had been flouncing, he 
 burst into a fit of laughter loud and long, in which 
 the other most cordially joined. A garden-ladder 
 was then procured, and he assisted the culprit to 
 emerge from his imprisoned condition. 
 
 " But, Sir," said the gentleman, " I have found 
 * s you in such an equivocal situation, and under 
 
OPPORTUNE RELIEF. 85 
 
 " such suspicious circumstances, that I cannot suf- 
 " fer you to depart without knowing your name/ 1 
 " What's in a name F" rejoined Lorenzo, in one 
 of his favourite quotations, " A rose, by any other 
 " name, would smell as sweet." 
 
 " Comparisons are odious, you know, Sir, and 
 " the less we say about odours the better ;" and he 
 pointed to the mud with which the theatrical hero 
 was covered, and which did not emit the most 
 agreeable effluvia. 
 
 However, Lorenzo soon satisfied the gentleman 
 that he was no impostor ; and after having been 
 supplied with refreshment to animate his exhausted 
 spirits, and with clean raiment, he joined his host 
 in renewed jesting about his comic accident, and 
 heartily congratulated himself on his escape from 
 the serious tragedy in which it might have termin- 
 ated : But, to this day, he cannot bear the slightest 
 allusion to the Tale of the Tub. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE LAW ELUDED BY THE KEEPER OF THE 
 
 GAMING-HOUSE THE VENAL EDITOR OF A 
 
 NEWSPAPER, &C. 
 
 Several of the persons who had been caught in 
 the gaming-house were conveyed next morning to 
 Bow-street, and each of them was compelled to 
 find bail to a large amount. But Mr. Dicer, who 
 was the master of the house, and in whose posses- 
 sion I then was, somehow or other eluded the 
 severity of the law, and continues at this day to 
 carry on his lucrative yet iniquitous profession. 
 
 The editor of a certain newspaper inserted a vio- 
 lent tirade against the iniquity of gaming and 
 gaming-houses. In a few days after this transac- 
 tion he called upon my master, was ushered into 
 an elegant apartment, and invited, as an old 
 acquaintance, to partake of a luncheon served up 
 in a style which would not have disgraced a noble- 
 man's side-board. This early repast was accom- 
 
EDITORIAL VENALITY. 87 
 
 panied with wines, as choice as any gentleman's 
 cellar could have afforded. 
 
 After some hems and hazes, which are of great 
 importance to a prolocutor, and with a peculiar 
 manner of stroking his chin and shuffling his feet, 
 the virtuous editor began the following discourse : 
 " My dear Dicer, you know my friendship for 
 " you is great; but you also know how I am situ- 
 « ated." 
 
 " Yes, I always considered you my friend,* said 
 Dicer, " and I understand you are increasing in 
 " circulation every day ; but why were you so hard 
 " upon us in your last publication ?" 
 
 " Why, I consider the office which I now dis- 
 charge to be that of Conservator of the public 
 " morals ; and you must be conscious that your 
 " occupation is deserving of severe castigation. V) 
 
 " Well, my friendly Censer, I must admire 
 " your sudden conversion to morality I You used 
 " to shake your elbow with infinite dexterity, and 
 w pluck a pigeon without scruple or remorse.*" 1 
 
 " Ay, ay ! that might be ; opinion alters with 
 " circumstances, and I am now determined to ex- 
 M pose the secrets of the profession, the professors, 
 
88 EDITORIAL VENALITY. 
 
 " and the students, unless you can shew me very 
 " convincing reasons to the contrary."" 
 
 " But are you aware of the injury we shall sus- 
 « tain ?" 
 
 " That is nothing, in comparison to the good of 
 " society. A gaming-house is a hot-bed of vice : 
 " and I am determined to publish at full length 
 " the names of all those who are frequenters of 
 " such scenes of iniquity •" 
 
 " That course would effect our ruin, as propri- 
 " etors, altogether ; for nobody would come near 
 " us, you know, under the liability of such a pub- 
 " lie disclosure." 
 
 " Then I shall obtain the very object of my 
 " wishes." 
 
 " Come, come, my dear fellow," said Mr. Dicer, 
 " you cannot be serious, — take another glass of 
 « wine." 
 
 " Your wine is excellent," was the editor's reply, 
 " but I was never more in earnest in my life, and 
 " I am certain that the public will receive my ex- 
 " ertions with gratitude, and will afford substantial 
 *' proofs of the manner in which my services are 
 « appreciated." 
 
EDITORIAL VENALITY. 89 
 
 « But what valuable purpose, as it respects 
 " yourself^ will this answer ?" 
 
 " The exposure of the names will materially 
 " increase the circulation of our paper ; and 1 must 
 " live, my dear friend, — I must live !" 
 
 " Yes, but live and let live, you know, accord- 
 " ing to the old proverb «T 
 
 " True, but your gains, Mr. Dicer, are enor- 
 " mous ; and then consider what I shall lose by the 
 " suddenness of my silence : It will not be less than 
 " five hundred guineas out of my pocket." 
 
 " Five hundred fiddle-sticks ! Why, you do not 
 " expect me to give you five hundred guineas for 
 " hush-money, do you ?" 
 
 " You may do as you please, but unless you 
 " and your fellow-proprietors furnish me with the 
 " sum now specified before twelve o'clock to-morrow, 
 " I will certainly carry my design into execution in 
 " the next day's paper ; and, in consequence of a 
 " recent event, I shall begin with you and your 
 " house. So good morning to you, Mr. Dicer V* 
 
 " Stop, stop ! Let me consider of it a little. If 
 " you will take the trouble of calling to-morrow 
 " about eleven " 
 
90 EDITORIAL VENALITY. 
 
 " That I will certainly do; for I shall be 
 " extremely sorry to be the cause of injury to you, 
 " if you be at all inclined to view the matter in its 
 " proper light. You remember, it is five himdred. 
 " I shall be punctual." 
 
 On the editor's departure, my master in the 
 utmost consternation called a meeting of the most 
 considerable proprietors in his neighbourhood : and 
 when the urgency of the case had been discussed, it 
 was determined, that another gentleman, in conjunc- 
 tion with Mr. Dicer, should meet the conscientious 
 Journalist, and try to soften down the asperities of 
 his demand. The two deputies accordingly were 
 prepared for his reception, when he called in Jer- 
 myn-street the next morning, precisely as the clock 
 of St. James's Church struck eleven. After his 
 entrance into the room, Mr. Dicer said to him : 
 
 " My dear Censor, we have been talking over 
 " the proposal you made to me yesterday, and tak- 
 w ing all the circumstances into account, including 
 " the loss which you would be liable to sustain, we 
 " are disposed to be liberal and to meet you half- 
 i( way. We think two hundred and fifty pounds a 
 " very handsome sum." 
 
EDITORIAL VENALITY. 91 
 
 " Do you mean to insult me, Mr. Dicer ? You 
 " know I am a man of my word : Five hundred 
 « is the sum, and five hundred I must have." 
 
 The other gentleman replied, " That being the 
 "case then, Mr. Censor, our conference is at an 
 " end." 
 
 " With all my heart, gentlemen ! It is a mat- 
 " ter of perfect indifference to me. I know I shall 
 " make double the money by the execution of my 
 " purpose : Therefore I am not at all anxious 
 " concerning its being relinquished. Indeed, I 
 " should never have listened to such a proposition, 
 " if I had not been desirous of serving my friend 
 " Dicer : So the blame of your exposure will rest 
 " with yourselves, not with me." 
 
 " But," said Mr. Dicer, " is there no way of 
 " compromising the matter ?" 
 
 " None with which I am acquainted." 
 
 " Suppose we make it three hundred f* 
 
 " This sort of trifling, gentlemen, is really 
 " affronting." 
 
 " Well, well ! make it four hundred at once," 
 said the associated proprietor, " and settle the 
 " business without further discussion." 
 
92 EDITORIAL VENALITY. 
 
 " That is something more liberal, but it will 
 " not do.*" 
 
 " Well, what say you to four hundred and 
 
 "fifty - ? " 
 
 " Better, but not enough !" 
 
 " Yes, yes ! Come, let me fill up a check for 
 " four hundred and fifty ! It is a large sum. What 
 " do you say ?" 
 
 " Five hundred guineas," was the editor's expres- 
 sion, " and not one farthing less ! So saith the 
 " bond, — doth it not, Mr. Dicer ? — However, I 
 " tell you what I will do. I know it is a late 
 " determination of the Jockey Club, that all bets, 
 "for the future, shall be paid in pounds ; and, to 
 " give you a proof that I do not wish to take any 
 " unfair advantage, I will consider this as a debt 
 " of honour, and you shall give me a draft for Jive 
 " hundred pounds." 
 
 The proposition was acceded to with eagerness ; 
 and this rigid guardian of public morality, this 
 disinterested director and expounder of national 
 sentiment, pocketed the draft on Drummond's 
 Banking-house, and left Mr. Dicer and his friend 
 to settle the account with their coterie as well as 
 they were able, 
 
EDITORIAL VENALITY. 93 
 
 This transaction serves to shew, how one of the 
 brightest privileges of a free country, the liberty 
 of the press, is sometimes abused. The best gifts 
 of heaven may be perverted, though of their 
 excellence we cannot be insensible. It is, however, 
 no small portion of the glory of Great Britain, 
 that such gross and culpable venality as this is 
 exceedingly rare, and never to be found except 
 among the Journalists who have no reputation to 
 hazard. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 JEREMIAH GIZZARD, THE GAMING POULTERER- 
 SOME OF HIS HABITS AND ASSOCIATES, &C, 
 
 The next person to whom I was assigned was 
 Mr. Jeremiah Gizzard, one of Mr. Dicers parti- 
 cular friends, who kept a little poulterer's shop in 
 the neighbourhood of Grosvenor Square. There 
 was a medley of contradictions in this singular 
 character, and there are some incidents of his life 
 that strangely co-incide with those of a military 
 gentleman well known in the fashionable world, 
 who went out to the East Indies many years ago, 
 where he lost his life. 
 
 Mr. Gizzard succeeded to a considerable pro- 
 perty at the death of his father, who had lived in 
 the same premises upwards of thirty years, and 
 had always been renowned for the excellence of his 
 poultry, and the extravagance of his prices. The 
 son followed in his fathers steps, with this differ- 
 
JEREMIAH GIZZARD. 95 
 
 ence, in his manner of carrying on trade, that he 
 never would sell a single chick except for ready 
 money ; which appeared so unaccountable, in this 
 region of long credit, that many of his father's old 
 customers left him in displeasure. But he perse- 
 vered in this determination, and exhibited capons 
 superior in size and flavour to those of others in 
 the trade. His shop is therefore now become the 
 most frequented of any in that quarter of the 
 town ; where Mr. Jeremiah is daily to be seen, 
 attired in a large white apron, and in a blue frock 
 covered with down, till about four in the afternoon, 
 after which time he retreats from behind his 
 counter. 
 
 Strong motives existed for commencing his ready- 
 money concern : Jerry had been so inattentive to 
 his learning in his youthful days, or his craniology 
 was so defective, as to incapacitate him from either 
 the will or the power of acquiring even the common 
 rudiments of education. But, in all that related 
 to games of chance, his expertness obtained for 
 him the nick-name of Breslaw the Younger ; and 
 however deficient he might be in classical know- 
 ledge, he could always play his cards to the utmost 
 advantage. He keeps no books, and all his money 
 
96 JEREMIAH GIZZARD. 
 
 transactions, which are numerous and important, 
 are noted down on scraps of paper, in hierogly- 
 phics which no one except himself can understand. 
 
 In figure he is slim and delicate ; his counte- 
 nance is mild, his eye penetrating, and his com- 
 plexion pale. After he has quitted his business in 
 an afternoon, he sports a curricle of the most 
 tasteful description ; his crest is a cock's head 
 between two wings expanded, and each of his 
 horses is worth at least one hundred and fifty gui- 
 neas. One of the first whips upon the town, he 
 has completely the appearance of a man of fashion. 
 He has a small collection of choice cabinet pictures, 
 and discusses matters of taste with such a precise 
 appropriation of terms, as would do no discredit to 
 a professed connoisseur. Though unable to write 
 or spell two words of English with correctness, he 
 can speak French and Italian fluently enough to 
 converse with foreigners at the gaming-table. 
 
 Under all the jokes to which his lack of learning 
 subjects him, he never loses his temper; he knows 
 his failing, and allows it to stand as a but for the 
 amusement of his friends : But he will not permit 
 strangers to take such liberties without astonishing 
 them into silence and humility. A lecturer on 
 
JEREMIAH GIZZARD. 
 
 97 
 
 Metaphysics, who is noted for his pedantry and 
 ostentation, has an occasional hesitation in his 
 speech on pronouncing the words beginning with 
 the letter P, which he prefaces with pip—pp— 
 pip,— and he had from this custom obtained the 
 name of Jemmy Pip. On one occasion, in the 
 hearing of a large company, this learned gentle- 
 man, drawing himself up with important solemnity, 
 in a loud voice thus addressed our illiterate poul- 
 terer, " Pip — pip — pip — pray Mr. Jeremiah Giz- 
 " zard, can you tell me what is Latin for a goose ?" 
 < ; I don t know/' replied the poulterer, " what is 
 " Latin for it, Sir, but the English for it is Jemmy 
 " Pip-" It may easily be imagined that the meta- 
 physician had no more questions to ask. 
 
 Notwithstanding the slenderness of Mr. Gizzard's 
 figure, he is well skilled in cricket, fives, and all 
 similar manly exercises. He is a perfect master of 
 his racket, and will hit the line from the over-all at 
 a distance of thirty yards once in three times ; and 
 if ever he indulges in mischief, it is at this game. 
 I once saw him give his friend Mr. Dicer, who had 
 been joking with him rather too sarcastically, seve- 
 ral such severe raps on the back with the ball as 
 caused him to wax wrath for a moment ; but this 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 JEREMIAH GIZZARD. 
 
 dabbler in dice presently recollected, that a contest 
 by pistols with the dealer in ducks was a dangerous 
 experiment, as his antagonist would hit the snuff 
 of a candle at sixteen yards'' distance, and seldom 
 or never missed his mark. 
 
 He entertained his friends at his own house in a 
 sumptuous style, and often had some of the most 
 fashionable bon-vivants at his table, at which he 
 presided with uncommon eclat. But he occasion- 
 ally indulged in a jest upon his friend Dicer. One 
 day at dinner Mr. D. had committed such frightful 
 depredations upon a turkey which stood next him, 
 that Mr. Gizzard desired the man who was waiting 
 at table to tell Billy Beak the shopman, he wished 
 to speak to him ; and when the lad put his head 
 in at the door, Mr. Gizzard called out aloud, 
 " Billy, remember that I shall have a party to din- 
 " ner to-morrow week, and you are to furnish the 
 " cook with two of the finest turkeys we have, as 
 " they must be both cooked at once, — one for my 
 " friend Mr. Dicer, — and the other for the company." 
 To this studied insult the obsequious gaming-mas- 
 ter was compelled to submit, as he knew of what 
 materials his man was formed, and durst not indulge 
 in angry recrimination : For his host could have 
 
JEREMIAH GIZZARD. 99 
 
 awed him into silence by a bare allusion to some of 
 his most notorious transactions. 
 
 Mr. Gizzard could arrange the cards at his plea- 
 sure : This gave him an opportunity of discover- 
 ing the mal-practices of others, which he never 
 failed to expose. No honest man, therefore, was 
 afraid to venture at play when he was present; and 
 such was the universal reliance on his honour, that 
 no one who knew him would for a moment hesitate 
 to engage with him for his usual stakes, which were 
 generally moderate. And to whatever game he sat 
 down, he seemed to play at it entirely for the love 
 of the amusement. He became, it might be said, 
 a wealthy man at his father's death, and he has 
 increased his property very considerably by his own 
 attention to business ; for he has never taken any 
 dishonourable advantage of his consummate skill 
 at all games of chance and dexterity. In a certain 
 circle, not indeed of the greatest fame for probitv, 
 if a man says he will take his oath of it, and imme- 
 diately swears "By Gizzard !" it is generally con- 
 sidered, that he is one upon whom dependence 
 may be placed, and who will not prove to be a 
 deceiver. 
 
 f2 
 
100 JEREMIAH GIZZARD. 
 
 I have introduced him into this History of my 
 own Life and Opinions, because, as will hereafter 
 be seen, he is a rare instance of a person, attached 
 to gambling, conquering that pernicious habit and 
 becoming a more useful member of civil society. 
 Small indeed is the number of those who free 
 themselves from the trammels of that infatuation, 
 till they are compelled to it by the complete wreck 
 of their fortunes, and the irretrievable loss of their 
 former good name and rank in society. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CAPTAIN B., A VICTIM TO GAMING PROPENSITIES 
 HIS ADVENTURES, &C. 
 
 During the time I was in Mr. Gizzard's posses- 
 sion, I became acquainted with many persons who 
 had suffered bitterly from their passion for gaming, 
 and who yet could not relinquish the baneful habit. 
 Amongst others was Captain B., one of the branches 
 of a family that traced its ancestry up to one of the 
 most celebrated feudal heroes of the North. This 
 young man had figured in the very first circles of 
 the haut ton, had fought his way to celebrity in 
 several duels, had been the dupe of the most beau- 
 tiful demirep of the day, had squandered away a 
 considerable portion of his property in riotous 
 living, and was obliged to absent himself from his 
 creditors almost as soon as he was old enough to be 
 responsible for his debts. 
 
102 EDINBURGH. 
 
 In his temporary retirement, he paid a visit to 
 Edinburgh, and lodged in a boarding-house in 
 Princes-street. He withdrew from table the mo- 
 ment he had dined, and did not mix with any soci- 
 ety in that city, for fear of being recognized. He 
 was remarkably elegant in his person, and was fre- 
 quently observed in the streets in an evening, 
 dressed in the costume of a Highland chieftain, 
 and styled, by those who had an opportunity of see- 
 ing him, THE MYSTERIOUS HANDSOME HIGH- 
 LANDER. 
 
 About the same time, an unknown lady of 
 attractive manners and figure made her appearance 
 in the northern metropolis : she took a house in 
 Heriot-row, and Jiad it splendidly furnished by 
 Mr. Trotter. She sported a fashionable equipage, 
 lived in grand style, and was supposed somehow or 
 other to be connected with the captain, who, it was 
 said, had been seen coming out of her house at an 
 unseasonable hour. However, it is certain that 
 they both disappeared much about the same time, 
 and according to common report they departed 
 together. Be that as it may, the lady's goods and 
 chattels were sold by auction by Mr. Bruce ; and 
 true it is, the moral and sagacious inhabitants of 
 
FRENCH ESPIONAGE. 103 
 
 Edinburgh bought up every article of her furni- 
 ture at enormous prices, under the supposition that 
 it had been the property of the celebrated Mary- 
 Anne Clarke. 
 
 On his return to town, Captain B. had a dispute 
 with H — B — of black-leg notoriety, which led 
 him into an affair of honour, and the consequences of 
 which compelled him to retreat to the continent. 
 It is scarcely to be believed, that a British subject 
 during the time of peace could have been liable to 
 such persecution as Captain B. endured, from the 
 machinations of a wretch who had been of infamous 
 celebrity during the reign of terror for his indis- 
 criminate denunciation of unoffending individuals, 
 and who was still in every instance favoured by the 
 French Police. No sooner was the Captain acquitted 
 of one crime, than he was by this miscreant accused 
 of another ; and, in open defiance of all law and 
 justice, was confined for many months in different 
 prisons. But a man of gay habits, like the captain, 
 will always afford too many plausible grounds for 
 detention, to the myrmidons of a corrupt adminis- 
 tration ; and cannot expect to escape censure with 
 the same facility as a person of chaste manners and 
 virtuous conduct. Indeed, every man who has 
 
104 A SAD STORY OF 
 
 once entered the arena of a gaming-house, by that 
 very act has rendered himself an object of public 
 suspicion ; and in all countries which possess a strict 
 police, such individuals are or ought to be marked 
 out as tainted characters. 
 
 Of the following circumstance Captain B. always 
 speaks, with sorrow and regret. He had formed 
 an acquaintance at Brussels with a young lady of 
 French extraction. She was on a visit at her uncle's, 
 at whose house the Captain resided after being 
 wounded at the Battle of Waterloo. Their inti- 
 macy on her part soon ripened into love, and 
 nothing could dissuade her from following his for- 
 tunes, contrary to the known wishes of her relatives. 
 She disguised herself in male attire, and departed 
 with him when he recovered from his wounds. 
 They travelled together, as brothers, for a consider- 
 able time ; but at Dieppe she appeared to acquiesce 
 in the necessity of parting, and he prevailed upon 
 her, as he supposed, to return to her parents in 
 the South of France. But, instead of this, she 
 remained in concealment and was always near the 
 spot where he resided. 
 
 Of this fact he had no suspicion, till he was 
 arrested for debt at Cambray; and then, to his 
 
UNREQUITED LOVE. 105 
 
 inexpressible astonishment, she entered his dungeon, 
 and became the voluntary partner of his confine- 
 ment. As soon as the nature of their connection 
 was known, the Governor enforced the strict regu- 
 lations of the establishment, and unceremoniously 
 effected a separation. When not permitted to have 
 access to him, this unhappy young lady wandered 
 about day and night, under the walls of his prison, 
 till the agitation of her spirits and excessive fatigue 
 produced a fever ; and for many days she remained 
 in a state of delirium. On recovering a little 
 from her severe indisposition, she attempted to fol- 
 low the Captain to Paris, whither he had been 
 sent; but the effort was too much for her strength. 
 She was seized with a relapse upon the road, and 
 addressed a letter to him from a village near Cam- 
 bray, which did not reach him till five months after 
 its date. From that moment neither the Captain 
 nor her own friends could ever learn' any tidings 
 respecting her, in the village where she was again 
 assailed by disease, or in any other place in the 
 road to Paris, in the direction to which she had 
 last been seen to proceed " with fainting steps and 
 slow." 
 
 Thus has this ill-fated creature, in all probability 
 
 f3 
 
106 FRENCH LADIES. 
 
 fallen a victim to misplaced affection and unre- 
 quited love. The French females have generally 
 been accused of an unfeeling frivolity of character, 
 even in the tender passion. But of that intense 
 devotedness of affection, which was displayed in 
 the instance now produced, so many examples 
 have been given during the progress of the late 
 Revolution, as may serve to rescue the ladies of 
 France from such a degrading imputation. 
 
 Captain B.'s whole narrative, and the adventures 
 in which he was involved during his stay in the 
 French territories, are, as he describes them, more 
 like the hyperbolical scenes of romance, than those 
 of real life. But the facts are well authenticated ; 
 and I have in this place alluded to them, because 
 it was the love of play which was the original cause 
 of many of the evils which he endured. The suf- 
 ferings of this early victim of dissipation have been 
 extreme, but by no means commensurate with his 
 faults ; and most sincerely do I wish, that the puni- 
 tive chastisements, which have been thus early 
 inflicted upon him, may reclaim him from his wan- 
 derings, and may serve as warnings to others, and 
 deter them from following his evil courses, which 
 inevitably terminate in ruin. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 DR. POTION AND HIS GUESTS HIS LUCRATIVE 
 
 EMPLOYMENT OF PUFFING AND GAMING, &C. 
 
 As my master the poulterer seldom lost at play, 
 I remained for some days quietly in his pocket, in 
 consequence of which I came to the knowledge of 
 several interesting facts. 
 
 I went with Mr. Gizzard to visit that famous 
 empiric, Dr. Potion, who then resided in a spa- 
 cious mansion in Bedford Square. He was origi- 
 nally of Jewish extraction, could scarcely write his 
 own name, and never could speak the English lan- 
 guage with any tolerable degree of propriety. His 
 features were as far removed from beauty, as were 
 those of the late John Wilkes of electioneerino- 
 
 o 
 celebrity ; yet his vanity was only equalled by his 
 
 . assurance. His complexion was bronze, — a most 
 
 convenient colour ; for, whatever blushes might 
 
 arise, their action was imperceptible^ and did not 
 
108 DOCTOR POTION 
 
 on any occasion alter the unfading hue of his coun- 
 tenance. But he had an insinuating smoothness in 
 his manner, accompanied with a shrewdness of 
 penetration, that gave him an advantage over the 
 more accomplished and better-educated portion of 
 his medical compeers. He had amassed consider- 
 able wealth by the sale of two or three stimulating 
 patent medicines of his own invention. By means 
 of extensive advertizing and humorous puffs, he 
 had obtained a lucrative demand for them ; and 
 for some time they produced him an income of 
 between six and seven thousand pounds per annum. 
 His coach was decorated with the most gaudy 
 embellishments, and his brilliant brass harness 
 dazzled the eye of the beholder. His liveries were 
 of the most glaring colour, bedizened with broad 
 gold lace ; and his horses were distinguished for 
 their blood and beauty. All these sumptuous appear- 
 ances, he said, were necessary to attract the atten- 
 tion of the public ; for he considered the driving 
 of his equipage through the streets of the metro- 
 polis, to be one of the very best methods of adver- 
 tising himself into greater notice. Naturally of a fri- 
 volous disposition, his vanity has been often highly 
 gratified, when, lolling at full length in his coach, 
 
AND HIS FRIENDS. 109 
 
 he has heard the wondering spectators, as he 
 stopped in a line of carriages, enquire with eager- 
 ness " Whose coach is that ? Is it the Austrian or 
 the Spanish Ambassador ?" u O no, it is the cele- 
 brated Doctor Pot i ox. " — On such occasions the 
 Doctor has smiled through inward complacency, 
 when, driving rapidly away, his horses have dashed 
 the mire on the persons of the admiring pedes- 
 trians. 
 
 The entertainment at which we were present, 
 was a sort of public dinner that he gave, once a 
 week, during the London season. The quantity 
 of plate, then exhibited, would have nearly filled a 
 waggon. The dinner comprised all the delicacies 
 of the season, and was served up in a style calcu- 
 lated to satisfy the refined palate of the most 
 accomplished gourmand. His cook, one of the 
 greatest repute in town, was retained in his service 
 at an enormous expence ; yet this was amply 
 refunded, by the profitable connection which the 
 Doctor gained by his hospitality. His wines were 
 the rarest and best that money could procure, 
 beside a vast quantity that found its way to his 
 mansion, from the cellars of different foreign 
 envoys ; and some of the suite of these personages 
 
110 DOCTOR POTION 
 
 were generally to be found at his table. Charac- 
 ters of the most opposite description met together 
 at his festive board. Noblemen of the highest 
 distinction did not disdain to feast upon his exqui- 
 site viands : Ambassadors from half the courts of 
 Europe partook of his good cheer ; but no one 
 who had the manners or appearance of a gentle- 
 man, and upon whom the Doctor could rely, was 
 excluded from the costly repast. 
 
 After the bottle had circulated briskly that day, 
 a servant entered with a note for his master. When 
 the Doctor had perused it, he apologised for leav- 
 ing the room : — " You see, gentlemen, how I am 
 pestered. Have the goodness to excuse me ; for 
 business must be minded. My friend Mr. Bounce 
 will shew you every attention in my absence. 
 John ! bring in some more Burgundy.*" His 
 deputy, Mr. Bounce, then proposed his absent-friend 
 the Doctor in a bumper. Some other person 
 suggested another health or toast, to which due 
 justice was done in a similar manner. Hard 
 drinking is not exactly the present fashion ; yet 
 the wine was exquisite, and the bottle never stood 
 still. The Doctor returned after the lapse of an 
 hour, when the company could neither refuse his 
 
AXD HIS FRIENDS. Ill 
 
 challenge nor allow him to drink by himself. 
 Cards were soon after proposed, the tables were set 
 out, and the foreigners looked forward to a rich 
 harvest from the clumsiness or inexperience of 
 John Bull ; but they found, to their cost, that 
 their money gradually glided away into the Doc- 
 tor's hands, and some of it into die poulterer's 
 pocket. For whenever the latter was matched with 
 those who presumed to take too much advantage 
 of their skill, he never failed to let them know that 
 they were no match for him in scientific prowess. 
 The Doctor's was not the only mansion, in which 
 large sums have been won in a professional man- 
 ner by the master, and the spoils of the guests 
 have contributed largely to the support of the 
 establishment. 
 
 On returning home at a late hour from this 
 entertainment, where my master had been pro- 
 voked to pocket more cash than was his usual 
 custom, when he arrived within a few yards of his 
 own residence, he observed, by the glimpse of the 
 moon, a female sitting on a step, wrapped in a long 
 coarse cloak, and trying to compose to sleep an 
 infant that was crying bitterly on her lap. 
 
 " God help you, my poor woman !/' said Mr. 
 
]1£ MR. GIZZARD'S 
 
 Gizzard, " what are you doing in the street at this 
 unseasonable hour ? There is a house open at the 
 corner of the next turning ; here, take this, get 
 something to comfort you and your babe, poor 
 thing ! , and go home and get to bed." 
 
 Before the woman could express her acknow- 
 ledgments, he had rapped at his own door, and 
 entered the house. When he came into his room, 
 as he carefully folded up his blue coat of fashion- 
 able cut, and took out his blue frock, to be in 
 readiness for his morning employment, he uttered 
 this ejaculation : 
 
 " How strangely are the gifts of fortune distri- 
 buted ! What right have I to revel in luxury, in 
 preference to that poor creature, who has not pro- 
 bably a place on which to lay her head ? Indeed, 
 Jeremiah Gizzard, [there is much for which you 
 have to answer. You have had many talents 
 committed to your care ; and how have you 
 employed them ? Have you sought out the hun- 
 gry and the wretched, relieved their wants, and 
 preserved them from starvation ? No. — Have you 
 traced home to their lowly dwellings, the sick and 
 the unhappy, and soothed their anguish or soft- 
 ened their affliction ? No. — Have you distributed 
 
JUDICIOUS REFLECTIONS. 113 
 
 those sums which you have gained by play, in 
 charity to the widow and the fatherless ? No. — 
 Shame ! Shame, Jerry, on your unfeeling heart ! 
 This course of life will never do. I am deter- 
 mined it shall be altered. My career has hitherto 
 been profitless : I will amend it ; for life is pre- 
 carious, and I may go out like the snuff of a can- 
 dle, and be in a moment extinguished/ 1 — He suited 
 the action to the word, by placing the extinguisher 
 upon the rush-light as he stepped into bed. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SCOTCH HONESTY MR. GIZZARD'S GENEROSITY 
 
 OF CHARACTER. 
 
 The object of Mr. Gizzard's bounty, on the 
 receipt of it, hastened to the public-house that 
 had been pointed out to her, and asked for some- 
 thing which the woman who presided at the 
 bar could not comprehend. 
 
 " Toot, woman, I dinna seek ony thing without 
 " paying for it. Here's the bit siller,' 1 — and she 
 held her money up to the light. " Gude guide us ! 
 " What de I see ? The gentleman has made a 
 " mistak and gien me gold instead of a shelling.' 1 '' 
 
 " Well, mistress," said the landlady, " I think 
 " you are greatly in luck, I'll give you change for 
 " it, and then you may have what you want." 
 
 " Nae nae, I'll want it a'thegither ; siller never 
 " do weel with those who dinna come cannily by 
 
POVERTY AND INTEGRITY. 115 
 
 " it. I know where the gentleman stays, ye ken, 
 " and I'll gie it back to him the morrow's morn." 
 
 M You are a fool for your pains," said Joe 
 Jaques, the dust-man, who was tossing off a glass 
 of blue ruin by her side, " If I found a silver- 
 " spoon in my basket, I'd keep it to myself. Spend 
 " it, woman ! spend it ! You'll get nothing but 
 " thanks for your honesty." 
 
 " Ye dinna ken what I'll get, mon ! I'll get 
 " mickle consolation to my ane conscience. I'll 
 " hae the satisfaction o" 1 doing as I would be 
 " done by." 
 
 " Well, well, mistress ! I dare say, you are 
 " right after all ; and if you don t like to part from 
 " your money, you are welcome to a glass of 
 " gin." 
 
 " Nae, nae, I canna tak gin ; but if the gude 
 " wife wuil just gie me a wee drap mulk for the 
 " waen, I'd be muckle obleeged till her." 
 
 " That I will, with all my heart," said the good 
 woman of the house, whose face shone as bright 
 and as broad, as the warming-pan which hung by 
 the wall : " That I will, for I have children of 
 " my own ! You shall have any thing you may 
 " choose, for I am sure you deserve it : so sit 
 
116 ENGLISH KINDNESS. 
 
 " you down by the fire and stay as long as you 
 " please." 
 
 " Ye are vary gude. I dinna mind mysel ; but 
 " the bairnie's taes are rather nipped wi' the caud, 
 " you ken." — And she seated herself on a bench 
 by the fire-side, where she and her child slept 
 soundly until about eight o'clock in the morning. 
 
 She then went to Mr. Gizzard's private door, 
 and enquired if the gentleman of the house was at 
 home. She was desired to walk in, and she waited 
 in a small anti-room till he made his appearance in 
 his blue frock and white apron, and with great 
 good nature enquired what she wanted. 
 
 " I'll be muckle obleeged til you, Sir, an you'll 
 * tell the gentleman of the hoose I'se want a word 
 « wT him." 
 
 6 * Well, my good woman, I am the owner of 
 " the house." 
 
 " O ma conscience ! that canna be fac, Sir : the 
 " gentleman, who cam in at this door ]at yes- 
 " ter night, had on a braw blue coat, and buttons 
 M as bright as gold, and you have on a blue 
 66 gingham frock and white brat." 
 
 " Well, well, notwithstanding that, I am the 
 " identical person ; so what have you got to say ?" 
 
gizzard's generosity. 117 
 
 " Only, Sir, that you should be more carefu' o"* 
 " your siller ; for when you in your gudeness 
 " intended to gie me a shelling, ye mad a mistak, 
 " you ken, and gied me a bit gold ; and if ye will 
 " exchange it for a shelling now, Fse be muc- 
 " kle obleeged til you, Sir ! Whisht ! whisht, 
 " my bonnie Chairlie ! What are you greeting for, 
 " bairn ?" 
 
 Jeremiah drew the back of his hand across his 
 eyes as she offered him the coin, my metallic body, 
 on which he had engraved with the point of a 
 penknife the figure of a pigeon ; for poulterers 
 never deal in doves. On seeing this token, he said, 
 " Little did I think when I amused myself with 
 " sketching this dove, that it would so quickly 
 " have come back to me, after I had parted from 
 " it. But I shall regard it as a happy omen, a 
 " harbinger of peace and comfort to my heart !" 
 
 Gentle reader, if ever you should meet with this 
 piece of money with the figure of a dove engraven 
 upon the face of it, consider it as the habitation of 
 the spirit who now addresses you. There is no 
 deed performed by the person into whose possession 
 I may come, about which I feel indifferent. Let it 
 therefore be a part of your solicitude to employ me 
 
118 IMPORTANT REFLECTIONS. 
 
 aright, lest I hereafter publish some circumstances 
 that will not redound to your honour. In my fre- 
 quent and rapid passage from the hands of one per- 
 son into those of another, it has been my lot to note 
 the greedy gaze of the miser, fixed upon me with an 
 earnestness which has made me shudder, lest I 
 should have been seized and immured for ages in his 
 secret coffers. — 'When the gloating eye of the libi- 
 dinous has been rivetted upon me, I have felt 
 a sensation of disgust lest even his touch should 
 have contaminated the purity of my nature, and 
 left a vicious tarnish behind. — With grief have I 
 observed the careless glance of the giddy and 
 thoughtless, as it passed quickly over my surface ; 
 I have pitied them, and trembled lest I might 
 unwittingly become one of the excitements or 
 instruments of leading them into error. — I have 
 also seen the gladdened eye of benevolence, beam- 
 ing full of joy upon me while I was bestowed for 
 the relief of the wretched. — I have seen the mild 
 and gentle eye of christian charity, " moistened 
 with pity^s dew,"" as I was silently given to the 
 unfortunate ; and as the withered hand of the poor 
 suppliant has been tremblingly extended to accept 
 me, the receiver has almost fainted with ecstacy on 
 
A SCOTCH STOItY. 119 
 
 beholding me as a stranger, yet not unwelcome ; 
 and I rejoiced m spirit at being the medium of such 
 exquisite gratification between donor and receiver. 
 
 This digression being finished, I now proceed 
 with the narrative. When the honest creature had 
 presented me to Mr. Gizzard, and he had recog- 
 nized his own handy-work upon me, he said: 
 ic Indeed, my good woman, you shall not go unre- 
 M warded ; for your honesty surprises me. 11 
 
 " Gude guide us ! Is there ony thing surprising 
 " in honesty ? — I want naething but the shelling ; 
 " sae if you'll please to gie it me, Sir, I'll be weel 
 " eneugh rewarded." 
 
 " Sit down, sit down ; and let me have a little 
 " conversation with you. Come, be candid, and 
 " tell me your story. I am anxious to know your 
 " history and what brought you to London : for, 
 64 by your discourse, you cannot have been long 
 " from the North." 
 
 " 'Deed, Sir, I have been a gude bit in Eng- 
 land ; but, somehow or anither, the broad Scotch 
 sticks to the roof o' my mouth, and I maun tell my 
 ane story in my ane mither tongue. 
 
 " You maun ken, then, Sir, I was yance a 
 sarvant-lassie in Edinbro', and about tan years 
 
120 A SCOTCH STORY. 
 
 agone I war married upon my Sandie, who was a 
 soger and, whan we became acquaint, was quar- 
 tered in the Pierce Hill Barracks at Porto Bello. 
 He was as bra" 1 a lad as ony you'll see in a simmer's 
 day, and was sent wi 1 his regiment to Spain ; but 
 they would na let me gang wi 1 him, you see. So I 
 went awa hame to my mither, and bided there till 
 Sandie cam back. She was a puir frail body and 
 stayed at Kinghorn. It has lately pleased the Lord 
 to tak her to himsel. 
 
 " I went doon to see my aged parent in her last 
 illness : I gied her a decent burial, and came up to 
 join Sandie at the barracs at Rumford. But, aweel 
 awa ! I thought I war nae to haud nor to bind, 
 when I fund he war dead and buried twa days 
 before I arrived. His camrades tauld me, he war 
 na himsel for days thegither, and he did naething 
 but rave for his Jeanie baith night and day. When 
 I heard this, I thought I would hae gane distract 
 a'thegither; for I fancied, if I could hae nursed 
 him mysel, I might hae saved his life — puir dear 
 Sandie ! You dinna ken, Sir, you canna imagine 
 what a tinder heart he had, though he war a soger ! 
 And mony a bludy battle had he been in, beside 
 Waterloo ; and the tear would start in his bonnie 
 
A SCOTCH STOltY. 
 
 121 
 
 blue een, when he wad tell me o' the sufferings of 
 the wounded and the dying. And my heart is 
 ready to brak, when I think I war nae wi' him in 
 his last moments, puir fallow ! O Sir, you maun 
 excuse my sobbing sae ; but you dinna ken what it 
 is to lose the lad you loo sae weel ! But, the 
 Lord's will be done ! we munna repine. He's gane 
 
 til a better place. 
 
 " I hae twa childer, ye ken, and my eldest son, 
 who is named after his father, war wi' him when 
 he died, and the puir callant has scarcely lifted up 
 his head sin. He war an ailing bairn, a stunted 
 wee bit body, amaist nine year auld ; but he's an 
 auld f arrant chiel, an 1 a tinder-hearted laddie, like 
 his faither. I left him at the Spread Eagle i' Rom- 
 ford ; but he'll larn nae gude there. 
 
 " I war going yestreen to ca' upon Mistress 
 Euphemia Mac Alister, who is housekeeper's 
 sarvant-lassie at the Duchess of B.'s. Femmy is a 
 discreet body ; mayhap ye may ken her, Sir. Her 
 mither's gude sister was first cousin to my father's 
 grandmither : and as we are sae near akin, and 
 united thegither by natural blude, I thought she 
 might speak to the Duchess about my lad Sandie. 
 
 VOL. i. g 
 
122 A SCOTCH STORY. 
 
 " I see you smile, Sir, at my mention o 1 the 
 Duchess ; but she has a kind heart for sC the folks, 
 muckle and sma', frae Scotland : The vary beasts 
 o 1 the field, and the birds o 1 the air, wull come at 
 her bidding, and feed out o" 1 her ain hond, as she 
 walks through the policy at the Palace 0? D. And 
 when ony o"* the puir folk dee in her neighbour- 
 hood, this noble lady will be at their bed-side her 
 ainsel, and do sl she can to soften the pangs of 
 affliction at that awsome moment. She has the 
 blessings o" 1 the puir wharever she gaes ; and her 
 gude deeds will live in their breasts lang after she 
 is gane to heaven. . 
 
 "Weel, weel, as I war saying, Sir, I had 
 walked mony a mile upon the broad stanes till my 
 feet began to blister. I could na mak mysel weel 
 understood, and I lost my road. I war unco 
 weary, and felt mysel faint and overcome; and I 
 sat mysel down on the stair and fell asleep, but 
 the greeting o' the bairn wakened me. I war 
 heart-sick and very despairing like ; but 'tis wrong 
 to despair, — for the Lord befriended me in his 
 mercv. I met wi' you, Sir, — and that's the whale 
 o' Jeanie Mackenzie's waefu' story, you ken.'" 
 
A SCOTCH STORY. 123 
 
 " I believe every word of it to be true, Mrs. 
 " Mackenzie," said Jeremiah ; "if you'll send for 
 " your son Sandie, 111 take him into my service ; 
 u and if he turn out well, I'll make a man of him r 
 
 " The Lord will reward you, Sir ! I'se be 
 " bound, my Sandie will never disgrace his mither." 
 
 " Well, instead of this sovereign, for which I 
 " have some regard, take that Five-Pound Note ; 
 66 and, after you have had your breakfast, my man 
 u William shall go and seek a lodging for you in 
 " the neighbourhood. When your son arrives, 
 " you shall assist him in his duties. I'll employ 
 " you both, and allow you so much a week for his 
 " education ; for it is a pity that he should be 
 " parted from so good a mother. Neither vou nor 
 " your children shall ever want a shilling whilst 
 " you deserve one. Step down into my kitchen, 
 " where my servants will give you and your Char- 
 " lie your breakfast. So good morning to you, 
 " Mrs. Mackenzie P 
 
 Jeanie Mackenzie lifted up her eyes and hands 
 in astonishment and thankfulness to God, who 
 provides for the widow and the fatherless ; and Mr. 
 Jeremiah Gizzard went to his avocations with 
 
 g2 
 
124 A SCOTCH STORY. 
 
 greater satisfaction than he ever experienced in 
 winning the odd trick. From that day he ceased to 
 derive any amusement from games of chance, and 
 never afterwards would engage in play to gratify 
 the best friend with whom he associated. He found 
 such exquisite and superlative gratification in acts 
 of beneficence, that he resolved to devote a great 
 portion of his property to charitable purposes. 
 
 These traits of human excellence are lovely spots 
 in the landscape of life, upon which the eye of a 
 spectator delights to dwell. They bespeak the hand 
 of an Almighty and Benevolent Artist, who upon 
 all his works has left some impress of his power or 
 memorial of his wisdom and goodness. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE FACETIOUS MR. COVENTRY ONE OF HIS 
 
 ROMANTIC ADVENTURES HIS IMPRISONMENT, 
 
 ESCAPE, &C. 
 
 I found myself in a few days paid away, with 
 a heap of other gold, for the purchase of a high- 
 mettled racer, to Mr. Thomas Coventry, who is 
 well known in the fashionable world by the name 
 of Peeping Tom, and manifests an ambition to 
 be considered the relative of a certain great Lord 
 in Piccadilly. But he has no other claim to such 
 high consanguinity than that small one of being of 
 the same name, and is a very different person from 
 the man who was formerly recognized in town by 
 the familiar appellation of Tom Coventry. 
 
 My possessor is the only child of his father, 
 Mr. Thomas Coventry, of N — , in the West of 
 England, where he has a pretty considerable 
 estate, and, when in town, rents a house in Wei- 
 
126 mr. Coventry's 
 
 beck-street, Cavendish-square. To the latter place 
 I was taken, and thrown upon a table with the rest 
 of the purchase-money for the horse which he had 
 sold. But no sooner had the figure of the dove 
 upon my surface caught the eye of my new master, 
 than he selected me from the heap, and thus apos- 
 trophised me as he held me up between his finger 
 and his thumb : 
 
 " Ah, my pretty little yellow boy ! I wonder 
 " what fair fingers impressed this emblem of inno- 
 " cence on your countenance. The face of innocence 
 " you may wear ; but I dare say, you brilliant 
 " rogue, you have passed through scenes, which, 
 " I fear, would often have put innocence out of 
 " countenance. I would give half I am worth to 
 " know the secrets you could disclose !"" 
 
 Mr. Coventry had an uncontrollable degree of 
 curiosity in his composition. He never enters a 
 room at one door, when alone, without immedi- 
 ately applying his eye to the key-hole of the other ; 
 and from this custom he has considerably weak- 
 ened the organ of vision on the left side, and is at 
 this moment obliged to wear a green shade for its 
 protection. He is, moreover, so restless as scarcely 
 ever to stand, sit, or lie still, except when he is 
 
RESTLESS CURIOSITY. 127 
 
 fast asleep. He is such a determined talker that he 
 always prides himself on saying most where least 
 is to be said ; and one may as well strive to silence 
 an echo by the force of one's voice as to pacify 
 him by the power of reason ; for both of them are 
 the louder for the attempt, and both will have the 
 last word. At times he would be almost insup- 
 portable, were it not that he is so thoroughly good- 
 natured as to prevent you from being angry. He 
 frequently ventures his wit, at the hazard of losing 
 his friend ; but he is always in good humour with 
 himself. I have seen him mightily pleased with his 
 own joke, till the tears have trickled down his cheeks 
 as he held his sides; and his whole frame has been 
 so convulsed with laughter, as might induce you to 
 suppose he was enacting the part of a French Har- 
 lequin, who tickles himself to death. No public 
 spectacle is exhibited without being honoured, if 
 not incumbered, with his presence. There is no 
 piquant anecdote in circulation but he is certain 
 to know it. He hurries from place to place with the 
 rapidity of a courier ; and as his ears are ever open 
 to the slightest whisper of a report, he dissemi- 
 nates the petty intelligence with the lightning's 
 speed. So fond is he of display or effect, as not to 
 
128 Mil. easy's 
 
 be satisfied with the mere matter-of-fact ; but, in 
 an eccentric and theatrical style, he places the cha- 
 racters of the persons speaking before you, and 
 exhibits them in their native or acquired manners 
 and in their own peculiar expressions. With all 
 these singularities, he has a fine person, a feeling 
 heart, and a high sense of honour. 
 
 Scarcely had he finished his address to me, when 
 he betook himself to the perusal of a volume of 
 travels ; and, with his chin in his hand, and his 
 elbow on his knee, sat see-sawing backwards and 
 forwards with a terrestrial globe by his side, when 
 his friend Mr. Easy entered unperceived. 
 
 The latter gentleman is totally the reverse of 
 Mr. Coventry, being one of those inoffensive, pla- 
 cid creatures that never trouble themselves with 
 other people's affairs ; for his time is fully employed 
 in that easy gentleman-like occupation of having 
 nothing to do; and he is, withal, a delectable 
 companion to a talkative man, for he is the most 
 patient listener alive. 
 
 " Commodiously making the circuit of the globe 
 " in an elbow-chair, are you, Mr. Coventry R" 
 said Mr. Easy, as he gently tapped him on the 
 shoulder. 
 
TAME PLACIDITY. 129 
 
 " Ah, my good friend Easy ! I was at this 
 " moment in the interior of Africa, and so absorbed 
 " in contemplating the charms of the fair sex in 
 " that quarter of the globe, as not to perceive your 
 " approach. — What news ? Any thing fresh with 
 " you ?" 
 
 " My equable way of life affords no food for 
 " your restless spirit of enquiry ; for you are posi- 
 " tively a living note of interrogation !" 
 
 " Not exactly, because I never go any crooked 
 « ways to work. It is true, I cannot easily repress 
 " my desire to know what's going forward where- 
 " ever I am. I always endeavour to learn without 
 " asking questions, if possible : If not, I am 
 " forced to enquire. So what have you got to 
 
 « say F 
 
 " When I see you again, I may perhaps have 
 44 something to communicate ; for I called to 
 u inform you of my immediate departure on an 
 44 excursion to the coast of France." 
 
 " France ! did you say ? Be seated, my dear 
 44 fellow, and I'll tell you something about France. 
 44 But you must not interrupt me — I must tell it 
 44 my own way — Dramatize the scene a bit, r) 
 
 g3 
 
130 mr. Coventry's 
 
 " You really must excuse me, 11 said Mr. Easy, 
 with more impatience than he is accustomed to 
 manifest. 
 
 " I cannot ! You must dine with me to-day, 
 " and I'll tell you all about it. All the world's a 
 " stage, you know ; in which, by the bye, the 
 " actors often appear very ridiculous, — that is, I 
 " suppose, because it is rather a large theatre." 
 
 " Well, my dear friend, I must be allowed to 
 " make my exit," said Mr. Easy, " so good 
 " morning." 
 
 - " All the men and women merely players, and 
 " each man in his time plays many parts ; thafs 
 " not true, though Shakspeare says it, for I never 
 " assumed any character but my own. I beg par- 
 " don, though, I did once personate my papa. 
 " Come, I know you are not in a hurry — I'll tell 
 " you all about it. 
 
 « We were in the country at the time — in the 
 library. — My father commenced, in a very solemn 
 tone of voice, by telling me, ' that about nineteen 
 * years ago, when he was on the continent, he 
 < became acquainted with an English gentleman, 
 4 whose name he was compelled to conceal, and 
 
ADVENTURES. 131 
 
 8 that I must never allow a syllable to transpire of 
 4 the communication which he was about to make, 
 i as one incautious word might betray him into 
 6 great difficulties. ' — I was all impatience and 
 exclaimed, Father ! I swear — 
 
 " s Swear not at all/ said a quaint, Quaker-like 
 fellow of a servant, who put his head in at the 
 door with a letter for his master, and added, 
 'A person on the outside wishes to speak with you. 1 
 
 " My father read the letter with much agita- 
 tion ; then turning to me, he said, ' My dear boy, 
 ' this blow unmans me ! Read that I 1 and he 
 handed me the note, which was from Mr. Plain- 
 well his agent in London, and briefly stated, * that 
 ' in consequence of my father's being thought to 
 ' be connected with a certain suspected political 
 * character, his liberty, if not his life, was in jeo- 
 ' pardy ;' and Mr. P/s advice to him was, to leave 
 the country till the matter could be cleared up. — 
 On reading this, I requested him to quit the 
 house privately, hasten to consult Mr. Plain well, 
 and leave the rest to me. 
 
 " He immediately withdrew ; for our servant 
 was heard at high words with some one who insisted 
 upon entering the room. When this obstreperous 
 
132 mr. Coventry's 
 
 orator made his appearance, he said, ' that his 
 ' business was with an elderly gentleman, who had 
 c a stoop in his shoulders, dark eyes, and was 
 i about five feet nine inches high ; and that he was 
 ' certain I was not the person intended." I told him, 
 if he wished to see the elder Mr. Coventry, I would 
 go and send him to him directly. I retired for a 
 few minutes, and returned disguised in my father's 
 apparel ; and, assuming his manner and tone of 
 voice, I said, Well, my good friend, what are 
 your commands with me ? 
 
 " 6 A trifle, Sir ! your name is Coventry, Tho- 
 <■ mas Coventry ?' 
 " It is, Sir. 
 
 " « Look then at that paper,' — at the same mo- 
 ment tendering a warrant signed by the Secretary 
 of State, — ' And my instructions are to confine you 
 ' in the common gaol of this place till further 
 4 orders.' 
 
 " It is doubtless some mistake, but I trust I 
 shall soon be released. 
 
 " ' That is no affair of mine,' said he, % Tve no 
 6 time to lose.' 
 
 " I'll attend you, my friend ; lead on. 
 
ADVENTURES. 133 
 
 " Thus you see, Mr. Easy, I was literally taken 
 
 for my father, and to prison I went. Don't you 
 
 think I hit off a tolerably good family likeness?" 
 
 " Excellent 17 said Mr. Easy, " these hands are 
 
 " not more like/ 1 
 
 " When I entered my new apartment, which 
 was furnished with nothing except a table, a chair, 
 and a stool, I began to ruminate thus : — This is a 
 most enviable situation for a man of my inquisitive 
 turn of mind ! Well, as there is no information to 
 be had here, nothing to learn, and nobody to 
 question, I must turn my inquiries into myself." 
 
 " A little self-examination, now and then, is not 
 " at all amiss," said Mr. Easy. 
 
 " True ! and I was very well satisfied with my- 
 self, when I began to reflect ; for I had saved a 
 parent from disgrace. At this moment the clank- 
 ing of chains, the drawing of bolts, and the 
 creaking of doors, stole like melting music on my 
 ear ; and the gaoler entered, pushing in another 
 prisoner before him, with this consolatory remark, 
 4 It is of no use to grumble ; for, whether you 
 i like it or not, you are to remain here. I tell you, 
 < I am too humane T — and he banged the door 
 after him with a noise as loud as thunder. 
 
134 mr. Coventry's 
 
 " 0, ho ! thought I, here's a subject for inquiry, 
 and I approached this moody gentleman with some- 
 thing of awkwardness and timidity. — Happy to see 
 you, Sir ! — Newly arrived, 1 presume ? 
 
 " 6 No, Sir !' replied Mynheer Melancholy. 
 
 " Have you been long resident in this charm- 
 ing spot ? 
 
 « « No, Sir !' 
 
 66 Perhaps you are not fond of company ? 
 
 " i I am not, Sir !' 
 
 " That's a pity, for I am. Probably you dis- 
 like talking ? 
 
 « < I do.' 
 
 <c Worse and worse ! for I cannot keep my 
 tongue still. Had not you better be seated, Sir ? 
 Take this chair. 
 
 " 4 I thank you, Sir,' said he ; and I thought 
 the whole man was made up of monosyllables. 
 
 iC He seated himself in the chair, whilst I squatted 
 myself down upon the stool. I was at a loss upon 
 what topic to touch ; but, returning once more to 
 the charge, I said, I was afraid that time would 
 hang rather heavy in this place, and, for want of 
 another subject, asked whether he could tell me the 
 hour of the day^ when, on pulling out his watch tu 
 
ADVENTURES. 135 
 
 afford me the requisite information, I observed on 
 one of his seals an engraved crest of chanticleer on 
 a wheat-sheaf. This excited my curiosity to know 
 more ; but I was silent on that point, and turned 
 the discourse on the possibility of escape. I had 
 no apprehensions for myself ; but, on account of my 
 father, I could not enter into any explanation that 
 would effect my liberation. 
 
 " My fellow-prisoner observed, that he had been 
 put into the cell in which we then were, as the most 
 secure place in the prison ; that the window was 
 directly opposite to that part of the building in 
 which the gaoler resided ; that he had a very pretty 
 daughter ; and that, as humanity was the inmate 
 of the female breast, if we could only attract her 
 notice, she might be induced to assist us. He said, 
 he had observed her regarding him with a peculiar 
 look of compassion, when he first entered within 
 the walls. 
 
 " ' But," continued he, < I do not see hw we can 
 4 reach the window. 1 
 
 " I'll reach it in a minute, said I ; and I placed 
 the chair upon the table, and the stool upon the 
 chair ; and, mounting upon these, I looked eagerly 
 through the grating. I saw a casement open, and 
 
136 mr. Coventry's 
 
 a female looking out. I could not catch her eye. 
 I thrust my hand through the iron bars ; but she 
 did not see it. I have no more music in me than 
 a raven ; but I lifted up my voice in captivity and 
 sang aloud, which had such an effect that she pre- 
 sently lowered a piece of string from the window, 
 and made signs for me to do the same. I jumped 
 down from my pedestal, but no string was to be 
 found. I snatched off a black handkerchief from 
 my neck, and tore it into strips, which I fastened 
 together, and mounted my rostrum again ; and, 
 as I lowered down my sable fishing-line from the 
 window, I fancied myself like a full-grown gentle- 
 man upon the Thames, sitting solemnly in a punt, 
 bobbing for eels. If patience be a virtue, com- 
 mend me to an amiable angler, who can wait for 
 hours watching for a bite, and at last depart con- 
 tented with a nibble. In a minute I felt a tug at 
 my line, and exclaimed, a bite ! a bite ! and I 
 pulled it up, not with a fish, but a note attached 
 to the end of it. 
 
 " We had just time to replace every thing in 
 statu quo, and enclose the paper in the folds of my 
 handkerchief, which I tied round my neck as well 
 as I could, when we heard the celestial sounds of 
 
ADVENTCKES. 137 
 
 Me Macnab's voice echoing through the vaults, 
 and, as we were fearful he would notice our per- 
 turbation, we agreed to be desperately angry with 
 each other. 
 
 " s What's the matter V was his question, as he 
 entered, < What can ruffle your tempers in this 
 6 quiet place ? If you are quarrelsome, I must be 
 ' less humane. You must deliver up what you 
 'have got about you to me.' Without further 
 ceremony he rudely took our watches from us, and 
 emptied our pockets, placing their contents in his 
 hat. Throughout this transaction he did not em- 
 barrass us with any of the troublesome appendages 
 of politeness. 
 
 " ( What ! must we part with our watches too ? a 
 said my companion. 
 
 " ' You can have no occasion for a watch here ; 
 ' for I will always tell you what o'clock it is, when 
 6 I come to lock you up.' 
 
 " O Sir, you are too humane ! said I, as our 
 compassionate Cerberus vanished from our sight. 
 
 " We then had recourse to my billet-doux : and, 
 to be brief, with the instructions and assistance of 
 Miss Molly Macnab, we made our escape the next 
 morning at an early hour. By her contrivance 
 
138 MK. COVENTRY'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 with my father's servant, Stupid Simon, as I used 
 to call him, we found a chaise-and-four waiting for 
 us at the end of the town ; and we were whirled 
 away upon the wheels of fiery expedition, — for the 
 post-boys made our horses smoke along the road." 
 
 " But," said Mr. Easy, looking at his gold 
 repeater, " I am afraid I must defer the pleasure 
 "of hearing the remainder of the story till another 
 « time." 
 
 " My dear friend ! I would not part from you 
 " for the world ; and I'll tell you what I'll do, as a 
 «f reward for your patience, — when you return from 
 " France, I'll dedicate a whole day to listen to 
 " your adventures. So sit down again, and 
 " hearken to me till dinner is ready," 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 mr. Coventry's flight — a poetical waiter — 
 his madrigals, &c. 
 
 Having obtained Mr. Easy's tacit assent, for he 
 was a patient creature, Mr. Coventry commenced 
 the relation of his flight from prison, with his accus- 
 tomed volubility. 
 
 <r I had obtained by degrees the confidence of 
 my companion, whose name was Morbid, and who 
 related to me many interesting circumstances of his 
 eventful life : But I was fearful of betraying the 
 anxiety I felt to know more, lest he should suspect 
 that I had motives incompatible with the conceal- 
 ment of something, which, I was confident, hung 
 heavy on his mind. After having been driven furi- 
 ously the first stage, we arrived at a small inn on 
 the road, where we were to change horses a second 
 time. On entering within the door, I observed 
 a little squat figure of a waiter, who had a round 
 
140 mil. Coventry's 
 
 unmeaning face and a turned-up nose, but whose 
 sharp grey eye denoted some degree of intelligence. 
 He had a napkin under his arm, a pen stuck 
 behind his ear, and an ink-horn suspended on his 
 button. A small sheet of paper was in his hand, 
 and he seemed so fully engrossed with his own 
 meditations, as totally to disregard me and my 
 companion. 
 
 " He was in the act of invocating the Muses, to 
 assist him in the composition of some of his love- 
 madrigals, and broke out into the following rhap- 
 sody: 
 
 ' True ease in writing springs from art, not chance, 
 ' As those move easiest who are ' 
 
 A bell rung before he could finish the borrowed 
 line, to which he responded almost mechanically, 
 by shouting, Coming, McCam 1 He then resumed, 
 * I have it — a thought' — The bell rung again, — 
 Coming, coming 1 . The landlady was that moment 
 calling out, 6 Peter ! Peter !' But the poetical 
 waiter continued his meditations ; — 6 Fm coming ! 
 s Amanda !' and hastily placing the paper upon his 
 knee, he began to write, 
 
 ' When first 1 saw the sweet Amanda, 
 * The boisterous breezes 
 
ADVENTURES. 141 
 
 6 No, that won't do. 
 
 ' The gentle breezes rudely— uo softly—; fann'd her.' 
 
 ' Ay, that's it. — Coming, Ma'am f Then, with an 
 air of infinite satisfaction, he read in a languishing 
 tone of voice, 
 
 ' When first Isaiv the sweet Amanda, 
 ' The gentle breezes softly fann'd her.' 
 
 "On perceiving our approach, the landlady made 
 her appearance with a face as fierce as the figure 
 on her own sign-board, and in sounds like any 
 thing rather than i gentle breezes/ demanded why 
 Peter was thus loitering away his time when cus- 
 tomers were arrived at the house. 
 
 " At this part of the comic scene, Mr. Morbid 
 and I, being recognized as pleasing guests, 
 were ushered by mine hostess herself into a little 
 parlour, the floor of which was nicely sanded. 
 ' Welcome to the Red Lion, gentlemen ! Good 
 c accommodation — bad roads — you'll take some 
 ' refreshment ? Every thing in the house P — and 
 she smoothed down her dress, and bobbed a curt- 
 sey between every sentence. 
 
 " I told her, we were in haste, and had no time 
 to wait ; and inquired of her who the travellers 
 
142 mr. Coventry's 
 
 were that departed from the door in a chaise a§ 
 we came up : for we had caught a glimpse of a gen- 
 tleman and two ladies, as they drove rapidly away. 
 Our fiery-faced landlady half shut one of her eyes, 
 and, with a cunning smile, replied, ' that she did 
 ' not know who they were ; but that the gentlewo- 
 * mans gentlewoman did tell her, they were going 
 6 the north road/ 
 
 " Thence, said I, you very sagaciously conclude 
 that it must be a matrimonial job for the Scotch 
 Blacksmith. 
 
 " * As sure as my name is Jenny Jingle. But, 
 ' I say nothing, — so I'll send you something in 
 4 directly, gentlemen/ She then made her oft- 
 repeated obeisance, and sidled out of the room in 
 an instant. 
 
 " When she left us, I asked Mr. Morbid if he 
 had observed the exquisite features of the young- 
 lady in the chaise. He sighed deeply as he 
 answered in the affirmative, and seemed in much 
 agitation. But my further enquiries were prevented 
 by the entrance of the poetical waiter, who, with a 
 rapidity that did not seem natural to him, brought 
 in a tray containing Sandwiches, &c. 
 
 " In rather a hurried tone I asked, Are the 
 
ADVENTURES. 143 
 
 horses ready for the chaise ? His reply was, in 
 rhyme, 
 
 * No> 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<as alive at the 
 
Q60 LORD ROSEMARY 
 
 period of his father's decease, and survived him 
 little more than a year. The present Earl then 
 most unexpectedly succeeded to the estate, and to 
 the immense wealth which his brother had accumu- 
 lated. 
 
 On the first Lord's return from the East, he had 
 settled a liberal annuity upon his brother Crispin, 
 and took charge of the education of his nephew 
 and niece ; and as he had no daughter of his own, 
 he regarded the latter with peculiar fondness. He 
 intended to procure a situation in the diplomatic 
 corps for his nephew ; but as his Lordship died 
 without a will, they were very slenderly provided 
 for till the death of their three cousins. 
 
 Some time before his brother's decease, the ci- 
 devant translator of soles had taken up his resi- 
 dence at a small market-town, not far from the 
 place of his nativity ; where he amused himself 
 with reading the news-papers, and fishing for trout, 
 the latter of which had always been his favourite 
 recreation ; and his annuity enabled him to main- 
 tain a respectable appearance, and to be looked up 
 to as a man of some consequence in the neighbour- 
 hood. His figure was Herculean, his countenance 
 hard-favoured ; his manner of address was abrupt, 
 
AND FAMILY. 261 
 
 though he exhibited a species of shrewdness in his 
 discourse. An awkward stoop was visible in his 
 shoulders, which indicated too clearly the nature of 
 his former sedentary occupation. This defect he 
 frequently attempted to hide by assuming a peculiar 
 toss of the head, which seemed to insinuate thus 
 much : " If I am not a great man myself, at least 
 I have a brother who is one." He was fond of 
 society, took his glass freely, played a good game 
 at whist, and lived upon familiar terms with most 
 of the minor gentry and farmers in the vicinity. 
 
 But most amusing is the influence of wealth and 
 power ! For no sooner had he succeeded to his bro- 
 ther, than the stoop in his shoulders was gone for 
 ever, his head was elevated at least an inch, and 
 his whole frame became as straight as an arrow. 
 But while his accession of fortune improved his 
 outward appearance, it seemed to have a contrary 
 effect on some of his mental powers : It was par- 
 ticularly observed, that his memory failed him 
 greatly ; he forgot the names of several of the 
 gentlefolks with whom he formerly visited, and did 
 not recollect the face of a single farmer in the 
 county. The trout-stream too lost its charms, and 
 he hastened immediately to town, to enjoy the pro- 
 
26£ LORD ROSEMARY 
 
 perty which had thus suddenly become his by the 
 law of inheritance. 
 
 In order to ensure the support to government of 
 a man of such great possessions and so much parli- 
 amentary influence, a new creation of peers soon 
 took place, and Mr. Crispin Lavender was ad- 
 vanced to the peerage by the same title as his bro- 
 ther, the late Earl ; and the moment that " the Earl 
 of Rosemary'* sounded in his ears, he assumed all 
 the dignity of an old-established patrician. His 
 equipage and establishment were brilliant; his 
 dress fashionable for his years ; and he provided 
 himself with what may certainly be considered as a 
 delectable appendage to a new-made lord, viz. a 
 pair of Mr. BowtelPs celebrated revolving heels, 
 which enable the wearer to cut his acquaintance 
 with admirable dexterity, by turning upon his heel, 
 with the same celerity as if moving on a pivot. 
 
 The following circumstance occurred on his 
 Lordship's first presentation at the levee after ob- 
 taining his title. When he had kissed hands on 
 his introduction and made his first retiring obei- 
 sance, he forgot in whose presence he was, and 
 turned hastily round upon his heel : quickly recol- 
 lecting himself, he whirled round again in an 
 
AXD FAMILY. 
 
 instant, and again made his obeisance ; but no 
 sooner had he lifted his head into an upright posi- 
 tion, than his former absence returned, and he 
 made another revolution and another bow, when, 
 perceiving a smile on his sovereign's face, he be- 
 came so confused as to repeat this odd sort of rota- 
 tory vertical motion, several times, like a puppet 
 upon a wire, to the great entertainment of the King, 
 who could not refrain from laughing heartily at the 
 embarrassment of this noble novice. On enquiring 
 what could be the occasion of such singular beha- 
 viour, his Majesty was informed by some of the 
 nobility near him, u that the new Earl of Rose- 
 mary had such a trick of turning his back on his 
 friends, that he could not leave it off even in the 
 royal presence.'" 
 
 However, when his honours began to sit more 
 easily upon him, the administration thought it was 
 a good plan to attach a man of such vast wealth 
 more particularly to their interest ; and his Lord- 
 ship was sworn in to the JPrivy Council and ap- 
 pointed to a place of some trifling responsibility, 
 which he considered as adding amazingly to his 
 dignity. " My dignity" was a phrase which he fre- 
 quently employed, and from which he was in con- 
 
£64 LORD ROSEMARY 
 
 stant fear of derogating, and of unluckily merging 
 the Peer in the shoe-maker. I once heard him, in 
 a moment of inadvertence, suffer the word " lap- 
 stone" to escape, when his colour fled, and every 
 limb was seized with an alarming tremor. 
 
 His son, now my Lord Lavender, was an uncom- 
 monly fine and well-proportioned figure, about six 
 feet high, with an open ingenuous countenance, 
 and a gracefulness in his deportment as if he had 
 been destined from his birth to move a Lord ! He 
 had displayed considerable abilities at College, 
 and taken his degree with much eclat, endeavour- 
 ing in every respect to do honour to his uncle's 
 patronage, and to fit himself for the diplomatic 
 station which he was designed to fill. But so sin- 
 gularly is real character altered, or perhaps only 
 developed, by situation or circumstances, that no 
 sooner had this young man dropped the appellation 
 of plain "Mr. Lavender," and acquired that of "my 
 Lord," than he lost all inclination to distinguish 
 himself except as a leader of the limit ton, and is so 
 completely overcome with vis inertia, as to doze 
 away his existence in apathy and indifference. He 
 spends one half of his time in doing nothing, and 
 ihe other half in forgetting that he had any thing 
 
AXD FAMILY. 26-5 
 
 to do. He was, or affected to be, exceedingly 
 absent, and never to be punctual to any of his 
 engagements: He frequently went to dinner, 
 when he had been invited to a route ; and made 
 his appearance fully equipped for the ball-room at 
 midnight, when he had merely been asked to a 
 family-dinner at seven o'clock. He seldom recol- 
 lected the day of the week or the hour of the day ; 
 and if he chanced to leave home without a card in 
 his pocket, it was not at all uncommon for him to 
 forget that he resided in Portman-square. 
 
 On one occasion he went into a bookseller's shop 
 in Bond-street, and desired a set of Lord Byron's 
 works to be sent home to him : and when the bov 
 behind the counter put the question, " "Where 
 " shall I have the honour to send it, Sir?," his 
 Lordship replied, " What did you say ?" 
 
 " I have not the pleasure of recollecting vour 
 " name, Sir." 
 
 " Why, at this moment, I do not recollect it 
 
 " myself, but," 1 significantly inclining his head on 
 
 one side, " I shall remember it before I get to the 
 
 " top of the street." And his Lordship actually 
 
 called again in a few minutes, and very coolly 
 vol. i. M 
 
266 LORD ROSEMARY 
 
 desired the books to be sent to the proper 
 address. 
 
 When his former acquaintances reproached him 
 for his indolence, his reply was, " that since he 
 " had become a Lord, he had no motive for exer- 
 " tion ; and as he found idleness exquisitely agree- 
 " able, idleness was his only pursuit : He did not 
 " like to be outdone in any thing, and he defied 
 " any one to be more indefatigably industrious in 
 44 doing nothing than himself." This foible, how- 
 ever, did not altogether obscure his original good 
 sense ; nor was he guilty of it in order to be thought 
 a man of genius, for he often indulged in a vein of 
 sarcasm that was an indirect satire on himself. 
 
 Lady Bell Lavender, the only daughter of the 
 present Earl of Rosemary, was in some measure 
 the petted and spoiled child of her uncle. But 
 unrestrained indulgence had not injured the natural 
 sweetness of her temper, or the goodness of her 
 heart ; and she still possessed buoyant spirits and 
 independent principles. Light and free as the air 
 the breathed, there was a charm about her that 
 induced all hearts to become her willing slaves. 
 No father was ever prouder of his daughter, than 
 
AND FAMILY. 267 
 
 her uncle the late lord was of his beautiful, his all- 
 accomplished niece. She was instructed in every 
 polite acquirement, and teachers of the greatest 
 celebrity in every branch of education had been 
 abundantly supplied by the care and bounty of her 
 uncle. Her figure was tall, graceful, and com- 
 manding ; her features lovely, and beautiful as the 
 light ; and her form was symmetry itself. But as 
 no portrait can justly exhibit the vis a7iima y the 
 life and soul of beauty, so no description can render 
 adequate justice to her charms. When walking 
 with her brother, it was universally allowed, that 
 they were the handsomest couple in the kingdom. 
 
 The Duchess of Doright, whose fiat was a law in 
 a certain circle, had for a long time taken her under 
 her charge, so kindly and so pointedly, that, even 
 when she was merely Miss Lavender, she was the 
 object of admiration to half the fashionable world; 
 though some of the envious high-blooded spinsters 
 took especial care to let her admirers know, " that 
 she was nothing but a cobbler's daughter.'" 
 
 The low origin of Miss Lavender was soon for- 
 gotten in the spell, which the title of Lady Bell 
 threw around the resplendent charms, taste, wit, 
 
 n2 
 
278 LADY SELL LAVENDEK. 
 
 gaiety and accomplishments of this perfect model 
 of grace, elegance and beauty, who now reigns 
 without a rival, as star of the ascendant in the 
 fashionable hemisphere, and has only to be seen to 
 be admired. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 FAMILY BREAKFAST — MRS. FALLIBLE — FASHION- 
 ABLE TRIFLES. 
 
 In the morning after my arrival, his Lordship 
 wanted gold for a small check on his banker, 
 which was supplied by Mr. Garnish ; and I en- 
 tered with the Earl of Rosemary into the library, 
 where he was for some time busily employed in 
 looking over letters, packets, and papers, which 
 lay in heaps around him on the writing-table. 
 
 Lady Bell presided at breakfast : My Lord 
 Lavender presently made his appearance, when he 
 took up a newspaper, and threw himself negli- 
 gently upon a Grecian sofa. 
 
 Lady Bell began the conversation by observing, 
 " that her father had not been out of London 
 *< more than four and twenty hours, and he was 
 K already immersed in business and musty papers" 
 
270 A FAMILY 
 
 The Earl drew himself up with an air of impe- 
 rious self-satisfaction, accompanied with the toss 
 of his head, for which he was noted, and said, 
 " he was engaged in matters of importance to the 
 " State, and the fate of a nation might depend 
 " upon the folding and sealing of a letter, r ' — and he 
 folded up an envelope with the most scrupulous 
 precision. Indeed, he was already statesman 
 enough to know, that a great deal depends on little 
 things. 
 
 " I suppose, dear papa," said Lady Bell, "you 
 w are making up a despatch for Prince Metter- 
 " nich on the great question of peace or war 
 " between the Greeks and the Turks.'" 
 
 M An affair of much greater consequence to us 
 " occupies my present thoughts — a precise rule of 
 " conduct for Mr. John Mac Nab, the keeper of 
 " the next county- gaol, some of whose prisoners 
 " have again absconded. — -Domestic treason is rife : 
 " there are dark doings on the carpet. r> 
 
 " 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.' 
 
 <e I think, Sir, you will find that my work is 
 calculated to promote the best interests of religion 
 and morality. 
 
 " c Strange as it may seem in this degenerate 
 4 age, there is nothing sells better than a volume 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
 
33S HISTORY OF 
 
 4 of sermons. Good ones are very scarce in the 
 4 market just now ; and that, I suppose, accounts 
 4 for the rapid sale of those of the best quality. If 
 4 you had a collection of good orthodox manuscript 
 4 discourses written about fifty years ago, they 
 4 would be worth their weight in gold. But let 
 4 me, if you please, glance my eye over your MS."* 
 
 44 I handed him my precious production ; and 
 whilst he was looking at it, I got up and eyed 
 more closely the assemblage of great men around 
 me, flattering myself that my portrait might one 
 day be added to the number. 
 
 44 4 Well, Sir," said Mr. Margin, 4 your intro- 
 4 duction is very fair : This is your first attempt, I 
 6 perceive — a maiden manuscript. Do you mean 
 4 to affix your name P 1 
 
 44 Certainly," was my reply. 
 
 44 4 Then you are wrong. Your name will be of 
 4 no service." 1 
 
 44 Sir, I flatter myself, my name is very well 
 known. 
 
 44 4 So much the worse. It will create the more 
 4 enemies to the work. Every one of those who 
 4 know your name, will suppose that they under- 
 
HENRY SENSITIVE. 339 
 
 * stand the subject better than you ; and those who 
 i do not know you will, of course, care nothing 
 i about your cognomen."* 
 
 w What would you have me to do then ? 
 " e Why, there is nothing like mystery in these 
 days. There are certain writers at present who 
 have got complete possession of the public atten- 
 tion ; and if you were to write with an angel's 
 pen, you would not be read unless your work 
 came under the head of either Sublime Impiety, 
 or Mysterious Secrecy. If yon can blend them 
 both together, so much the better. There is 'a 
 striking instance of the excellence of this plan, 
 in the fate of a late publication of genius, which 
 was attributed to the great Master Poet, the idol 
 of the day, whose faults and eccentricities his 
 worshippers are sedulous to imitate, even from his 
 cantos to his shirt collar. The work in question 
 was thought to be an attempt of the noble writer 
 to feel the pulse of the public in prose, and was 
 read and estimated accordingly. Had not this 
 been the case, it would only have found its way 
 into the hands of a few fashionable literati, and 
 remained, perhaps, handsomely bound, as a dead 
 
 q2 
 
340 HISTORY OF 
 
 ' letter^ a mere furniture-publication, upon their 
 6 shelves.' 
 
 " It is impossible for me to rival the excellences 
 of the great genius to whom you allude. 
 
 " c But, Sir, you can imitate his peculiarities. 
 6 Half the world has been moon-stricken in fancying, 
 ' that nature requires emendation. You are young 
 ' in your profession : Listen to my advice, Sir.^- 
 g Take back your manuscript ; — spice it well with 
 6 daring animadversions against the moral govern- 
 6 ment of the universe ; let there be plenty of bold 
 ' conjectures and rhapsodical flights bordering on 
 ' blasphemy, with a delineation of character in 
 6 which the amiable and diabolical passions are 
 i beautifully blended ; then invest the publication 
 ' with a veil of mystery ; wrap yourself up in im- 
 ' penetrable secrecy ; and, MacMirCs Bible to 
 * Goody Two Shoes, it will be certain of a rapid 
 < sale.' 
 
 " I thank you for your instructions, Sir ; but, 
 I am afraid, I cannot obey them. — And I put 
 my MS. into my pocket, made my bow, and de- 
 parted, disappointed but not displeased with this 
 amusing and candid bibliopolist. r) 
 
HENRY SENSITIVE. 
 
 341 
 
 " What do you mean to do ?" said Punleary. 
 " Do you intend to try another of the trade ?" 
 
 " I have applied to several already," answered 
 Henry. " One was so liberal as to declare that he 
 wished for nothing more than that I should run 
 all risks, and pay down fifty pounds towards the 
 expences of publication. Another was exceedingly 
 cautious, and would not run the hazard of looking 
 at the MS., because I was neither known as an 
 author, nor could assure him of my being in the 
 habit of writing for the public. Another very 
 gravely informed me, that if I could bring forward 
 any well-known successful writer, who could vouch 
 for the merits of my production, he might then be 
 induced to give it a perusal. Because I wrote 
 under a feigned name, and the work assumed the 
 appearance of a literarv fiction, one publisher was 
 so rigidly conscientious as to regard me in the light 
 of an impostor, and politely declared, that he 
 should consider he was insulting the public if he 
 ushered into the world a book with a lie upon the 
 title-page. 
 
 " The last gentleman of the trade with whom I 
 had any communication, and who really appeared 
 to be the completest man of business among the 
 
842 HISTORY OF 
 
 whole, thanked me in the kindest manner for the 
 honour I had done him, put my MS. into his 
 drawer, and told me, with a smile, ' if I would call 
 ' again in a day or two, I should have an answer/ 
 When I did call, he remarked, with all the warmth 
 of sincerity, 6 that he was sorry my work was not 
 ' exactly in his line ; for, as far as he could judge, 
 ' there was considerable merit in the composition ; 
 * but he was a timid mem, and afraid to meddle 
 ' with it.' That was doubtless the case ; for it had 
 never been touched or looked at, since he so care- 
 fully placed it in his drawer. 
 
 " But difficulties never daunt me, and I will now 
 tell you what I have done. I took this lodging 
 that I might remain in impenetrable obscurity; 
 I have not moved out by day-light, lest the 
 sun should dispel the gloominess of my imagi- 
 nation; and I have remained at the top of the 
 house, that the productions of my brain might 
 partake of the lofty nature of my residence. I 
 have just finished a work, in which I have pour- 
 trayed the character of a demon ; in comparison of 
 whom, Milton's Satan was a gentleman. I have 
 drawn him from life ; and if the original of the 
 picture should recognize his portrait, let the galled 
 
HENltY SENSITIVE. 343 
 
 jade wince. His heart is black as night ; his mind 
 is dark as Erebus ; and if he should suffer the tor- 
 tures of the damned^ he deserves it. Now Pun- 
 leary, I must rely upon your assistance. I want 
 you to avow yourself — * 
 
 " Not as the author of such a production, I 
 " hope ; for nobody will believe it. r) 
 
 " No, no ! Not the author, but a friend of the 
 author. You must read over the manuscript. 
 Take it to Mr. Margin, and dilate upon the style 
 and execution ; point out its beauties and its hor- 
 rors ; state the probability of imprisonment, or a 
 horse- whipping at least ; enforce the necessity of 
 profound secrecy, and that he may safely deny all 
 knowledge of the author. Tell him, that you will 
 read the proofs yourself, and that he must pay you 
 down a handsome sum the moment the MS. is put 
 into his hands. ' Bid him do this and Cato is his 
 friend, ' for the name of Sensitive must never 
 appear." 
 
 " But you do not expect the money before he 
 " peruses the manuscript ?" 
 
 " To be sure, I do. He will have more reliance 
 upon your judgment than upon his own. I am too 
 modest a man to treat for my own production; 
 
344 HISTORY OF, &C. 
 
 but you can blazon forth its merits without hesi- 
 tation." 
 
 " You know," said Punleary, " that I am 
 " always ready to serve you : So give me the ma- 
 " nuscript. I will read it to-night, and you shall 
 " know the result of my conference with Mr. 
 " Margin in the course of to-morrow. Remem- 
 *' ber me kindly to your wife. Good day !" 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 RESULT OF LADY LAVENDER^ INTERVIEW WITH 
 MR. SENSITIVE, SEN. PUNLEARY's ADVANCE- 
 MENT, &C. 
 
 " The blessing of heaven be upon you !" said 
 Sensitive, as he closed the door after Punleary. 
 " Your deeds of kindness will be registered on 
 high, before the acts of those who build churches. 
 How has that kind-hearted creature soothed and 
 comforted my restless and perturbed spirit ! He 
 has sat quietly with me, when I wished to talk ; he 
 has talked to me, when it was my whim to be 
 silent ; he has patiently endured my reading to him 
 what I had myself put upon paper, and read to 
 me when I was in the humour to listen ; and we 
 have conversed together till the morning dawn 
 stole in upon us unperceived. When my mind 
 has been a chaos of confusion, he has brought forth 
 the chess-board, which acted like a charm upon my 
 
 q3 
 
346 
 
 HISTORY OF 
 
 scattered senses. Blessed be the man who invented 
 this enchanting game ! for never was there a con- 
 trivance for amusement that takes such a complete 
 hold upon the faculties. Many a time and oft, 
 when my heart has been over-burdened with woe, 
 I have become so intent upon the checquered 
 board, so absorbed in the game, as to think of that, 
 and of that only ; I have forgotton my sorrows in 
 the intricacies of the moves, and have been for a 
 while as happy as forgetfulness of misery could 
 make me. 11 
 
 . As a spirit I enter completely into the feelings 
 of Mr. Sensitive on this subject. I have often 
 hovered over the chess-board with an intensity of 
 interest and delight ; and, as has frequently been 
 done before, I could not avoid instituting a com- 
 parison between the movements of the men, and 
 the actions of mankind. How has the first unfor- 
 tunate setting-out often rendered the game one 
 continued race of difficulties and trials, so as to 
 leave nothing but cheek and check to the end of the 
 chapter. How, again, has one false step marred 
 the fairest prospects and deranged the best-con- 
 ducted plans ! Struggle as you might, you could 
 never regain the advantage which you had once 
 
HENRY SENSITIVE. 347 
 
 lost. At another time, I have seen a person fall 
 into an error by moving in a wrong direction ; yet, 
 on becoming sensible of his fault, and rousing his 
 energies, he has risen superior to this early disad- 
 vantage, and come off a triumphant conqueror. 
 Such interest and variety are there in Chess, and 
 such are there also in the Game of Life ! 
 
 On Louisa's return, Sensitive poured the money 
 into her lap, and spoke in rapturous terms of the 
 kindness of Punleary. They planned a thousand 
 schemes for their future conduct and success, and 
 passed the evening in those endearing exchanges 
 of reciprocal affection which warmth and feeling on 
 one side, and sweetness and delicacy on the other, 
 are sure to produce. In the course of the ensuing 
 day, Punleary returned with the assurance, " that 
 " Margin would certainly engage in the publi- 
 << cation ; bat that he must look over the manu- 
 " script before he entered upon terms." Sensitive 
 was satisfied with this message ; from what he had 
 seen of the publisher, he believed him to be " an 
 honourable man. 1 ' 
 
 Lady Bell had likewise represented her regard 
 for Henry Sensitive, and her wish to serve him, in 
 the strongest light to her noble father, the Earl of 
 
348 HTSTORY OF 
 
 Rosemary, who luckily had it in his power to 
 appoint him immediately to a situation which w r as 
 in his gift, suitable to Henry's feelings and cha- 
 racter. It was a j ze of considerable credit and 
 responsibility, an > 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, 
 <c a relation of the Thorns. You know the 
 " Thorns of Derbyshire. The present Tom 
 " Thorn married Miss Hetty Haw, and took 
 " the name of Hawthorn. They had a very 
 u pretty daughter, who was called the blossom of 
 " May. The name of Tom's wife's mother was 
 ** Hip, a second cousin of her father's ; and they 
 
CHEERFUL GARRULITY. 391 
 
 " were connected with the Briars, who were again 
 " related to the Brambles. You remember the 
 " Brambles, Sir ; we met some of them at Bath 
 " last season." 
 
 The gentleman declared, that he really had 
 forgot the whole family. 
 
 " O dear ! you cannot forget the youngest of 
 u the two girls : She had a remarkably keen eye, 
 •' and a pointed nose. They were walking arm- 
 " in-arm with their red-faced cousins, the Miss 
 u Berries, when we saw them ; and they were 
 w met by their uncle Mr. Sloe, who twisted his 
 " frost-bitten features into a thousand different 
 " contortions, that set one's teeth on edge by 
 ie merely looking at him, because somebody trod 
 " on his gouty toe. I could not avoid laughing 
 " out-right, when, in his usual astringent manner, 
 " he said, he was sure that was Patty Pedigree's 
 " giggle, she was always on the look-out at Bath. 
 " You must remember Mr. Sloe !" 
 
 " I never had much acquaintance with him,"' 
 said the gentleman ; " but Mr. Timson tells me, 
 " Mr. Sloe has destroyed a great deal of Port wine 
 " in his time, and suffers for it now." 
 
392 miss pedigree's 
 
 " Is that Mr. Tirason of Shropshire whom you 
 " mention ?" 
 
 " No ; his father lived in the Isle of Ely. 1 ' 
 
 " O yes, I remember; there was one of the 
 " Timson family settled in the Fens : He married 
 " a young lady whom I knew, a Miss Dainty, 
 " from Dorchester. She died six months after 
 " her wedding-day. She was his fifth wife — God 
 " help him ! When he begun the world, he was 
 " but poor ; but fortune smiled upon him amaz- 
 " ingly. He is upon the look-out for another wife ; 
 " they say, he will not be satisfied till he has made 
 " up the half-dozen. My dear Miss Wick, if you 
 " have any regard for your life, never marry into 
 " the Timson family. Though, I must say, they 
 " are very kind to their wives, — they absolutely 
 " kill them with kindness : For soon after they 
 " take them home, they die of the ague. Oh ! the 
 " very thought of it puts me into a cold shiver !" 
 
 Some one on the other side of the room men- 
 tioned the name of Chauntly, when Miss Pedi- 
 gree called out aloud, " What, my old friend 
 " Charles Chauntly ? He was a beau of mine, 
 " more than thirty years ago ; and he has the 
 
CHEERFUL GARRULITY. 393 
 
 " assurance to sing himself off for a young man to 
 M the present day. He is a sort of ever-green> 
 " 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. 
 
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