THACKERAYANA. 
 
LONDON ? PRINTED BY 
 
 SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE 
 
 AND PARLIAMENT STREET 
 
{j^r&w- 
 
 THACKERAYANA 
 
 NOTES AND ANECDOTES 
 
 Illustrated ug jgmt&rcb* of Sketches 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY 
 
 Depicting Humorous Incidents in his School Life, and Favourite Scenes and 
 Characters in the Books of his Every -day Reading 
 
 ^ U. b[Te.<3fl 
 
 A NEW ^DITIOIT 
 
 Jfonboit 
 CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY 
 
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 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 LARGE portion of the public, ar.d 
 especially that smaller section of the 
 community, the readers of books, will 
 not easily forget the shock, as uni- 
 versal as it was unexpected, which 
 was produced at Christmas, 1863, by 
 the almost incredible intelligence of 
 the death of William Makepeace 
 Thackeray. The mournful news was 
 repeated at many a Christmas table, 
 that he, who had led the simple 
 Colonel Newcome to his solemn and touching end, would 
 write no more. The circumstance was so startling from 
 the suddenness of the great loss which society at large had 
 sustained, that it was some time before people could 
 realise the dismal truth of the report. 
 
 It will be easily understood, without elaborating on so 
 saddening a theme, with how much keener a blow this 
 heavy bereavement must have struck the surviving rela- 
 tives of the great novelist. It does not come within our 
 province to speak of the paralysing effect of such emotion ; 
 it is sufficient to recall that Thackeray's death, with its 
 
 269078 
 
vi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 overwhelming sorrow, left, in the hour of their trial, his 
 two young daughters deprived of the fatherly active mind 
 which had previously shielded from them the graver 
 responsibilities of life, with the additional anxiety of being 
 forced to act in their own interests at the very time such 
 exertions were peculiarly distracting. 
 
 It may be remembered that the author of 'Vanity 
 Fair ' had but recently erected, from his own designs, the 
 costly and handsome mansion in which he anticipated 
 passing the mellower years of his life ; a dwelling in 
 every respect suited to the high standing of its owner, 
 and, as has been said by a brother writer, ' worthy of one 
 who really represented literature in the great world, and 
 who, planting himself on his books, yet sustained the 
 character of his profession with all the dignity of a gentle- 
 man.' 
 
 In such a house a portion of Thackeray's fortune might 
 be reasonably invested. To the occupant it promised the 
 enjoyment he was justified in anticipating, and was a solid 
 property to bequeath his descendants when age, in its 
 sober course, should have called him hence. But little 
 more than a year later, to those deadened with the effects 
 of so terrible a bereavement as their loss must have 
 proved when they could realise its fulness, this house must 
 have been a source of desolation. Its oppressive size, its 
 infinitely mournful associations, the hopeful expectations 
 with which it had been erected, the tragic manner in which 
 the one dearest to them had there been stricken down ; 
 with all this acting on the sensibilities of unhealed grief, 
 the building must have impressed them with peculiar 
 aversion ; and hence it may be concluded that their first 
 
INTRODUCTION. vii 
 
 desire was to leave it. The removal to a house of dimen- 
 sions more suitable to their requirements involved the 
 sacrifice of those portions of the contents of the larger 
 mansion with which it was considered expedient to dis- 
 pense ; and thus Messrs. Christie, Manson, and Woods 
 announced for sale a selection from the paintings, draw- 
 ings, part of the interesting collection of curious porcelain, 
 and such various objects of art or furniture as would other- 
 wise have necessitated the continuance of a house as large 
 as that at Palace Green. These valuable objects were 
 accordingly dispersed under the hammer, March 16 and 17, 
 1864, and on the following day the remainder of Thack- 
 eray's library was similarly offered to public competition. 
 To anyone familiar with Thackeray's writings, and more 
 especially with his Lectures and Essays, this collection of 
 books must have been both instructive and fascinating ; 
 seeing that they faithfully indicated the course of their 
 owner's readings, and through them might be traced many 
 an allusion or curious fact of contemporaneous manners, 
 which, in the hands of this master of his craft, had been 
 felicitously employed to strengthen the purpose of some 
 passage of his own compositions. 
 
 Without converting this introduction into a catalogue 
 of the contents of Thackeray's library it is difficult to par- 
 ticularise the several works found on his book-shelves. It 
 is sufficient to note that all the authorities which have been 
 quoted in his Essays were fitly represented ; that such 
 books, in many instances obscure and trivial in them- 
 selves, as threw any new or curious light upon persons or 
 things — on the private and individual, as well as the public 
 or political history of men, and of the events or writings to 
 
viii IN TROD UCTION. 
 
 which their names owe notoriety, of obsolete fashions or of 
 the changing customs of society — were as numerous as the 
 most ardent and dilettanti of Thackeray's admirers could 
 desire. 
 
 The present volume is devised to give a notion, neces- 
 sarily restricted, of certain selections from these works, 
 chiefly chosen with a view of further illustrating the bent 
 of a mind, with the workings of which all who love the 
 great novelist's writings may at once be admitted to the 
 frankest intercourse. It has been truly said that Thackeray 
 was 'too great to conceal anything.' The same candour is 
 extended to his own copies of the books which told of 
 times and company wherein his imagination delighted to 
 dwell ; for, pencil in hand, he has recorded the impressions 
 of the moment without reserve, whether whimsical or 
 realistic. 
 
 A collection of books of this character is doubly inter- 
 esting. On the one hand were found the remnants of 
 earlier humourists, the quaint old literary standards which 
 became, in the hands of their owner, materials from which 
 were derived the local colouring of the times concerning 
 which it was his delightful fancy to construct romances, to 
 philosophise, or to record seriously. 
 
 On the other hand, the present generation was fitly 
 represented. To most of the writers of his own era it was 
 an honour that a presentation copy of their literary off- 
 spring should be found in the library of the foremost 
 author, whose friendship and open-handed kindness to the 
 members of his profession was one of many brilliant traits 
 of a character dignified by innumerable great qualities, and 
 tenderly shaded by instances uncountable of generous 
 
INTRODUCTION. ix 
 
 readiness to confer benefits, and modest reticence to let the 
 fame of his goodness go forth. 
 
 Presentation copies from his contemporaries were there- 
 fore not scarce ; and whether the names of the donors were 
 eminent, or as yet but little heard of, the creatures of their 
 thoughts had been preserved with unvarying respect The 
 ' Christmas Carol,' that memorable Christmas .gift which 
 Thackeray has praised with fervour unusual even to his 
 impetuous good-nature, was one of the books. The copy, 
 doubly interesting from the circumstances both of its 
 authorship and ownership, was inscribed in the well-known 
 hand of that other great novelist of the nineteenth century, 
 'W. M. Thackeray, from Charles Dickens {whom he made 
 very happy once a long way from home)' Competition was 
 eager to secure this covetable literary memorial, which 
 may one day become historical ; it was knocked down at 
 25/. 1 or., and rumour circulated through the press, without 
 foundation, we believe with regret, that it had been secured 
 for the highest personage in the State, whose desire to 
 possess this volume would have been a royal compliment 
 to the community of letters. 
 
 Nor were books with histories wanting. George Au- 
 gustus Sala, in the introduction to his ingenious series of 
 'Twice Round the Clock,' published in 1862, remarks with 
 diffidence : ' It would be a piece of sorry vanity on my part 
 to imagine that the conception of a Day and Night in Lon- 
 don is original. I will tell you how I came to think of the 
 scheme of ''Twice Round the Clock." Four years ago, in 
 Paris, my then master in literature, Mr. Charles Dickens, 
 lent me a little thin octavo volume, which I believe had 
 been presented to him by another master of the craft, Mr.. 
 
x INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Thackeray.' A slight resemblance to this opuscule was 
 offered in 'A View of the Transactions of London and 
 Westminster from the Hours of Ten in the Evening till 
 Five in the Morning,' which was secured at Thackeray's 
 sale for forty-four shillings. 
 
 Thus, without presuming to any special privileges, we 
 account for the selection of literary curiosities which form 
 settings for the fragments gathered in ' Thackerayana.' 
 The point of interest which rendered this dispersion of cer- 
 tain of Thackeray's books additionally attractive to us may 
 be briefly set forth. 
 
 In looking through the pages of odd little volumes, and 
 on the margins and fly-leaves of some of" the choicest 
 works, presentation copies or otherwise, it was noticed that 
 pencil or pen-and-ink sketches, of faithful conceptions sug- 
 gested by the texts, touched in most cases with remarkable 
 neatness and decision, were abundantly dispersed through 
 various series. 
 
 It is notorious that their owner's gift of dexterous 
 sketching was marvellous ; his rapid facility, in the minds 
 of those critics who knew him intimately, was the one great 
 impediment to any serious advancement in those branches 
 of art which demand a lengthy probationship ; and to this 
 may be referred his implied failure, or but partial success, 
 in the art which, to him, was of all cultivated accomplish- 
 ments the most enticing. The fact has been dwelt on 
 gravely by his friends, and was a source of regret to cer- 
 tain eminent artists best acquainted with his remarkable 
 endowments. 
 
 The chance of securing as many of these characteristic 
 designs as was in our power directed the selection of books 
 
INTRODUCTION. xi 
 
 which came into our possession in consequence of the sale 
 of Thackeray's library ; it was found they were richer in 
 these clever pencillings than had been anticipated. 
 
 An impulse thus given, the excitement of increasing 
 the little gathering was carried further; many volumes 
 which had been dispersed were traced, or were offered 
 spontaneously when the fact of the collection became 
 known. From books wherein, pencil in hand, passages had 
 been noted with sprightly little vignettes, not unlike the 
 telling etchings which the author of ' Vanity Fair ' caused 
 to be inserted in his own published works, we became 
 desirous of following the evidence of this faculty through 
 other channels ; seeing we held the Alpha, as it were, 
 inserted in the Charterhouse School books, and the later 
 pencillings, which might enliven any work of the hour 
 indifferently, as it excited the imagination, grotesque or 
 artist-like, as the case might be, of the original reader, 
 whether the book happened to be a modest magazine in 
 paper or an edition de luxe in morocco. 
 
 A demand created, the supply, though of necessity 
 limited, was for a time forthcoming. The energy, which 
 fosters a mania for collecting, was aided by one of those 
 unlooked-for chances which sustain such pursuits, and, 
 from such congenial sources as the early companions of 
 the author, sufficient material came into our possession to 
 enable us to trace Thackeray's graphic ambition through- 
 out his career with an approach to consistency, following 
 his efforts in this direction through his school days, in 
 boyish diversions, and among early favourites of fiction ; as 
 an undergraduate of Cambridge ; on trips to Paris ; as a 
 student at Weimar and about Germany ; through maga- 
 
xii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 zines, to Paris, studying in the Louvre ; to Rome, dwelling 
 among artists ; through his contributions to ' Frasers,' and 
 that costly abortive newspaper speculation the ' Consti- 
 tutional ;' through the slashing Bohemian days, to the 
 period of ' Vanity Fair ; ' through successes, repeated and 
 sustained — Lectures and Essays ; through travels at home 
 and abroad — to America, from Cornhill to Grand Cairo, to 
 Scotland, to Ireland, ' Up the Rhine,' Switzerland, Italy, 
 Belgium, Holland, and wherever Roundabout ' sketches by 
 the way ' might present themselves. 
 
 The study which had attracted an individual, elicited 
 the sympathy of a larger circle. The many who preserve 
 mementos similar to those dispersed through ' Thacke- 
 rayana' enlarged on the general interest of the materials, 
 and especially upon the gratification which that part of the 
 public representing Thackeray's admirers would discover 
 in such original memorials of our eminent novelist ; and 
 which, from the nature of his gifts, and the almost unique 
 propensity for their exercise, would be impossible in the 
 case of almost any other man of kindred genius. 
 
 Selections from the sketches were accordingly produced 
 in facsimile, only such subjects being used as, from their 
 relation to the context, derived sufficient coherence to be 
 generally appreciable. 
 
 The writer is aware that many such memorials exist, 
 some of them unquestionably of greater worth in them- 
 selves than several that are found in the present gathering; 
 but it is not probable, either from their private nature, the 
 circumstances of their ownership, or from the fact that, in 
 their isolated condition, they do not illustrate any particular 
 stage of their author's progress, that the public will -ever 
 become familiar with them. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xiii 
 
 ' Thackerayana ' is issued with a sense of imperfections; 
 many more finished or pretentious drawings might have 
 been offered, but the illustrations have been culled with a 
 sense of their fitness to the subject in view. It is the 
 intention to present Thackeray in the aspect his ambition 
 preferred — as a sketcher ; his pencil and pen bequeath us 
 matter to follow his career ; we recognise that delightful 
 gift, a facility for making rapid little pictures on the inspi- 
 ration of the moment ; it is an endless source of pleasure to 
 the person who may exercise this faculty, and treasures up 
 the most abundant and life-like reminiscences for the de- 
 lectation of others. It will be understood as no implied 
 disparagement of more laboured masterpieces if we observe 
 that the composition of historical works, the conception 
 and execution of cliefs-cT amvre^ are grave, lengthy, and 
 systematic operations, not to be lightly intruded on ; they 
 involve much time and preparation, many essays, failures, 
 alterations, corrections, much grouping of accessories, 
 posing of models, and setting of lay-figures ; they become 
 oppressive after a time, and demand a strain of absorption 
 to accomplish, and an effort of mind to appreciate, which 
 are not to be daily exerted ; long intervals are required to 
 recruit after such labours ; but the bright, ready croqtiis of 
 the instant, if not profound, embalms the life that is passing 
 and incessant ; the incident too fleeting to be preserved on 
 the canvas, or in a more ambitious walk of the art, lives in 
 the little sketch-book ; it is grateful to the hand which jots 
 it down, and has the agreeable result of being able to 
 extend that pleasure to all who may glance therein. If it 
 was one of Thackeray's few fanciful griefs that he was not 
 destined for a painter of the grand order, it doubtless con- 
 
XIV 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 soled him to find that the happier gift of embodying that 
 abstract creation — an idea — in a few strokes of the pencil 
 was his beyond all question ; and this graceful faculty he 
 was accustomed to exercise so industriously, that myriads of 
 examples survive of the originality of his invention as an 
 artist, in addition to the brilliant fancy and sterling truth 
 to be found in his works as an author. 
 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Voyage from India — Touching at St. Helena— School days at the Charter- 
 house—Early Reminiscences — Sketches in School Books — Boyish 
 Scribblings — Favourite Fictions — Youthful Caricatures — Souvenirs of 
 the Play I 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Early Favourites — The 'Castle of Otranto' — Rollins • Ancient History '. 18 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Thackeray's last visit to the Charterhouse — College clays— Pendennis at 
 Cambridge — Sketches of Universities— Sporting subjects — Etchings at 
 Cambridge — Pencillings in old authors — Pictorial Puns — The ; Snob,' 
 a Literary and Scientific Journal — • Timbuctoo,' a Prize Poem . . 47 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Early Favourites— Fielding's 'Joseph Andrews ' — Imitators of Fielding— 
 The 'Adventures of Captain Greenland' — 'Jack Connor' — 'Chrysal; 
 or, the Adventures of a Guinea ' . . . . . . • 7 1 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Continental Rambles — A Stolen Trip to Paris — Residence at Weimar — 
 Contributions to Albums — Burlesque State — German Sketches and 
 Studies— The Weimar Theatre — Goethe — Souvenirs of the Saxon city 
 — 'Journal kept during a Visit to Germany ' . , . . . 89 
 
xvi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Thackeray's Predilections for Art — A Student in Paris — First Steps in 
 the Career — An Art Critic — Introduction to Marvy's ' English Land- 
 scape Painters ' — Early Connection with Literature — Michael Angelo 
 Titmarsh, a contributor to ' Fraser's Magazine' — French Caricature 
 under Louis Philippe — Political Satires — A Young Artist's life in Paris 
 — Growing Sympathy with Literature . . . . . .114 
 
 CHAPTER ATI. 
 
 Elizabeth Brownrigge : a Tale,' 1832 — 'Comic Magazine,' 1832-4 — 
 * National Standard and Literary Representative,' 1833-4 — ' Flore et 
 Zephyr, Ballet Mythologique,' 1836- On the Staff of 'Fraser's Maga- 
 zine' — Early Connection with Maginn and his Colleagues — The Maclise 
 Cartoon of the Fraserians — Thackeray's Noms de Plume — Charles 
 Yellowplush as a Reviewer — Skelton and his ' Anatomy of Conduct ' — 
 Thackeray's Proposal to Dickens to illustrate his Novels — Gradual 
 Growth of Thackeray's Notoriety — His Genial Admiration for 'Boz' — 
 Christmas Books and Dickens's ' Christmas Carol' — Return to Paris — 
 Execution of Fieschi and Lacenaire — Daily Newspaper Venture —The 
 ' Constitutional ' and ' Public Ledger ' — Thackeray as Paris Corre- 
 spondent—Dying Speech of the ' Constitutional ' — Thackeray's Marriage 
 — Increased Application to Literature— The ' Shabby Genteel Story ' — 
 Thackeray's Article in the 'Westminster' on George Cruikshank — First 
 Collected Writings— The ' Paris Sketch-Book ' — Dedication to M. Aretz 
 — ' Comic Tales and Sketches,' with Thackeray's original Illustrations 
 — The 'Yellowplush Papers' — The 'Second Funeral of Napoleon,' 
 with the ' Chronicles of the Drum '--The ' History of Samuel Titmarsh 
 and the great Hoggarty Diamond ' — ' Fitzboodle's Confessions ' — The 
 'Irish Sketch-Book,' with the Author's Illustrations— The 'Luck of 
 Barry Lyndon' — Contributions to the 'Examiner' — Miscellanies — 
 'Carmen Lilliense' — 'Notes on a Journey from Cornhill to Grand 
 Cairo,' with the Author's Illustrations — Interest excited in Titmarsh — 
 Foundation of : Punch '—Thackeray's Contributions — His comic De- 
 signs — The ' Fat Contributor ' — 'Jeames's Diary ' . . . .124 
 
 CHAPTER VIII, 
 
 Increasing reputation— Later writings in 'Fraser' — 'Mrs. Perkins's Ball,' 
 with Thackeray's Illustrations — Early Vicissitudes of ' Pencil Sketches 
 of English Society' — Thackeray's connection with the Temple— Ap- 
 pearance of 'Vanity Fair,' with the Author's original Illustrations— Ap- 
 preciative notice in the ' Edinburgh Review ' — The impression pro- 
 
CONTENTS. xvii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 duced — ' Our Street,' with Titmarsh's Pencillings of some of its Inhabit- 
 ants — The^ 'History of Pendennis,' illustrated by the Author — 'Dr. 
 Birch and his Young Friends,'' with illustrations by M. A. Titmarsh — 
 ' Rebecca and Rowena ' — The Dignity of Literature and the ' Examiner ' 
 and ' Morning Chronicle ' newspapers — Sensitiveness to Hostile Criti- 
 cism — The ' Kickleburys on the Rhine,' with illustrations by M. A. 
 Titmarsh — Adverse bias of the ' Times ' newspaper — Thackeray's reply 
 — An 'Essay on Thunder and Small Beer' . . . . .161 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Commencement of the Series of Early Essayists — Thackeray as a Lecturer 
 — The ' English Humourists of the Eighteenth Century ' — Charlotte 
 Bronte at Thackeray's Readings— The Lectures repeated in Edinburgh 
 — An invitation to visit America — Transatlantic popularity — Special 
 success attending the reception of the ' English Humourists ' in the 
 States — ' Week-day Preachers' — Enthusiastic Farewell — Appleton's 
 New York edition of Thackeray's Works ; the Author's introduction, 
 and remarks on International Copyright — Thackeray's departure — 
 Cordial impression bequeathed to America — The ' History of Henry 
 Esmonde, a story of Queen Anne's Reign ' — The writers of the Au- 
 gustan Era — The ' Newcomes ' — An allusion to George Washington 
 misunderstood — A second visit to America — Lectures on the ' Four 
 Georges' — The series repeated at home — Scotch sympathy — Thackeray 
 proposed as a candidate to represent Oxford in Parliament — His liberal 
 views and impartiality . . . . . .. . . .171 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Curious Authors from Thackeray's Library, indicating the course of his 
 Readings — Early Essayists illustrated with the Humourist's Pencillings 
 — Bishop Earle's ' Microcosmography ; a piece of the World Character- 
 ised,' 1628 — An ' Essay in Defence of the Female Sex,' 1697 — Thacke- 
 ray's Interest in Works on the Spiritual World — 'Flagellum Dsemonum, 
 et Fustis Daemonum. Auctore R. P. F. Hieronymo Mengo,' 1727 — 
 ' La Magie et L'Astrologie,' par L. F. Alfred Maury— 'Magic, Witch- 
 craft, Animal Magnetism, Hypnotism, and Electro Biology,' by James 
 Baird, 1852 186 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ENGLISH ESSAYISTS OF THE GEORGIAN ERA. 
 
 Early Essayists whose Writings have furnished Thackeray with the Ac- 
 cessories of Portions of his Novels and Lectures — Works from the 
 Novelist's Library, elucidating his Course of Reading for the Prepara- 
 
 a 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 tion of his 'Lectures' — 'Henry Esmond,' 'The Virginians,' &c. — 
 Characteristic Passages from the Lucubrations of the Essayists of the 
 Augustan Era illustrated with original Marginal Sketches, suggested by 
 the Text, by Thackeray's hand — The 'Tatler' — Its History and Influ- 
 ence — Reforms introduced by the purer Style of the Essayists — The 
 Literature of Queen Anne's Reign — Thackeray's Love for the Writings 
 of the Period — His Gift of reproducing their masterly and simple style 
 of Composition ; their Irony, and playful Humour — Extracts from 
 notable Essays ; illustrated with original Pencillings from the Series of 
 the 'Tatler,' 1709 221 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 thackeray's researches amongst the writings of the 
 early essayists — Continued. 
 
 Extracts of Characteristic Passages from the Works of the ' Humourists, ' 
 from Thackeray's Library, illustrated with Original Marginal Sketches 
 by the Author's hand— The Series of The ' Guardian,' 1713 — Intro- 
 duction — Steele's Programme — Authors who contributed to the ' Guar- 
 dian ' — Paragraphs and Pencillings ....... 275 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 thackeray's researches amongst the writings of the 
 early essayists — Continued. 
 
 Characteristic passages from the Works of Humorous Writers of the ' Era 
 of the Georges,' from Thackeray's Library, illustrated with original 
 Marginal Sketches by the Author's hand — The ' Humourist,' 1724 
 — Extracts and Pencillings 299 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 thackeray's researches amongst the writings of the 
 early essayists — Continued. 
 
 Characteristic Passages from the Works of the 'Humourists,' from 
 Thackeray's Library, illustrated by the Author's hand, with Marginal 
 Sketches suggested by the Text — The 'World,' 1 753— Introduction 
 — Its Difference from the Earlier Essays — Distinguished Authors who 
 contributed to the ' World' — Paragraphs and Pencillings . . .318 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 thackeray's familiarity with the writings of the 
 satirical essayists — Continued. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Characteristic Passages from the compositions of the ' Early Humourists,' 
 from Thackeray's Library, illustrated by the Author's hand with origi- 
 nal Marginal Sketches suggested by the Text — The 'Connoisseur,' 
 1754 — Introduction — Review of Contributors — Paragraphs and Pen- 
 cilhngs 357 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 thackeray's researches amongst the writings of the 
 early essayists — Continued. 
 
 Characteristic Passages from the Works of the 'Humourists,' from Thacke- 
 ray's Libraiy ; illustrated by the Author's hand with Marginal Sketches 
 suggested by the Text— The ' Rambler,' 1749-50 — Introduction —Its 
 Author, Dr. Johnson — Paragraphs and Pencillings . . . .370 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 thackeray's familiarity with the writings of the 
 satirical essayists — Continued. 
 
 Characteristic Passages from the Works of the 'Early Humourists,' from 
 Thackeray's Library, illustrated by the Author's hand with original 
 Marginal Sketches suggested by the Text — The ' Mirror,' Edinburgh, 
 1779-80— Introduction — The Society in which the 'Mirror,' and 
 ' Lounger ' originated — Notice of Contributors — Paragraphs and Pen- 
 cillings . ........... 408 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Thackeray as an Illustrator — The ' North British Review ' on Thacke- 
 ray — Illustrations to 'Men of Character' — 'The Whitey-brown Paper 
 Magazine' — 'Comic Tales,' illustrated by Thackeray — Allusions to 
 Caricature Drawing found throughout his writings — Skits on Fashion — 
 Titmarsh on 'Men and Clothes' — Bohemianism in youth — Hatred of 
 Conventionality— Sketches of Contemporary Habits and Manners — 
 Imaginative Illustrations to Romances — Skill in Ludicrous Parody — 
 Burlesque of the ' Official Handbook of Court and State ' . . -43^ 
 
xx CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Thackeray as a Traveller — Journey in Youth from India to England — 
 Little Travels at Home — Sojourn in Germany — French Trips— Resi- 
 dence in Paris — Studies in Rome — Sketches and Scribblings in Guide- 
 Books — Little Tours and Wayside Studies — Brussels — Ghent and the 
 Beguines — Bruges— Croquis in Murray's ' Handbooks to the Continent' 
 — Up the Rhine — 'From Cornhill to Grand Cairo' — Journeys to 
 America — Switzerland — ' A Leaf out of a Sketch-Book ' — The Grisons 
 — Verona — ' Roundabout Journeys ' — Belgium and Holland . . 465 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Commencement of the 'Cornhill Magazine' — 'Roundabout Papers' — 
 'Lovel the Widower ' — The 'Adventures of Philip on his Way through 
 the World '—Lectures on the ' Four Georges ' — Editorial Penalties — 
 The 'Thorn in the Cushion' — Harass from disappointed Contributors — 
 Vexatious Correspondents — Withdrawal from the arduous post of Editor 
 — Building of Thackeray's House in Kensington Palace Gardens — 
 Christmas 1863 — Death of the great Novelist — The unfinished Work — 
 Circumstances of the Author's last Illness— His Death . . . 488 
 
THACKERAYANA, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Voyage from India — Touching at St. Helena — School days at the Charter- 
 house — Early Reminiscences — Sketches in School Books — Boyish Scribblings 
 — Favourite Fictions — Youthful Caricatures — Souvenirs of the Play. 
 
 The fondness of Thackeray for lingering 
 amidst the scenes of a boy's daily life in a 
 public grammar school, has generally been 
 attributed to his early education at the 
 Charterhouse, that celebrated monastic- 
 looking establishment in the neighbour- 
 hood of Smithfield, which he scarcely dis- 
 guised from his readers as 
 the original of the familiar 
 'Greyfriars' of his works 
 of fiction. Most of our 
 novelists have given us in 
 various forms their school 
 reminiscences ; but none 
 have produced them so 
 frequently, or dwelt upon 
 them with such manifest 
 bias towards the subject, 
 as the author of ' Vanity 
 Fair/ ' The Newcomes,' 
 
 seen through the Charterhouse Gates . ._, ... r 
 
 and 'The Adventures of 
 is pleasing to think that this habit, which Thackeray 
 
 View of Life as 
 
 Philip.' It 
 
2 ,', 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 was well aware had been frequently censured by his critics as 
 carried to excess, was, like his partiality for the times of Queen 
 Anne and the Georges, in some degree due to the traditional re- 
 verence of his family for the memory of their great-grandfather, 
 Dr. Thomas Thackeray, the well-remembered head-master of 
 Harrow. 
 
 Sketches of Indian life and Anglo-Indians generally are abun- 
 dantly interspersed through Mr. Thackeray's writings, but he left 
 India too early to have profited much by Indian experiences. He 
 is said, however, to have retained so strong an impression of the 
 scene of his early childhood, as to have wished in later life to revisit 
 it, and recall such things as were still 
 remembered by him. In his seventh 
 year he was sent to England, and when 
 
 An Exile 
 
 the ship touched at St. Helena, he was 
 taken up to have a glimpse of Bowood, 
 and there saw that great Captain at a Sentry 
 
 whose name the rulers of the earth had so often trembled. It is 
 remarkable that in his little account of the second funeral of Na- 
 poleon, which he witnessed in Paris in 1840, no allusion to this 
 fact appears ; but he himself has described it in one of his latest 
 
EARLY REMINISCENCES. 3 
 
 works — the lectures on 'The Four Georges/ first delivered in 
 the United States in 1855-56, and afterwards described by the 
 Athenmum as ' an airy, humorous, and brilliant picture of English 
 life and manners, produced by honest reading out of many books, 
 and lighted with the glow of individual sympathy and intellect.' 
 
 A highly respectable Member of Society 
 
 A Master of Arts 
 
 We fancy that Thackeray was placed under the protection of 
 his grandfather, William Makepeace Thackeray, who had settled 
 with a good fortune, the fruit of his industry in India, at Hadley, 
 near Chipping Barnet, a little village, in the churchyard of which 
 lies buried the once-read Mrs. Chapone, the authoress of the 
 'Letters on the Improvement of the Mind,' the correspondent 
 of Richardson, and the intimate friend of the learned Mrs. Carter 
 and other blue-stocking ladies of that time. 
 
 In the course of time — we believe in his twelfth year— Thack- 
 
THA CKERA YA NA . 
 
 eray was sent to the Charterhouse School, and remained there as 
 a boarder in the house of Mr. Penny. He appears in the Charter- 
 house records for the year 1822 as a boy on the tenth form. In 
 the next year we find him promoted to the 
 seventh form; in 1824 to the fifth ; and in 
 1828, when he had become a day-boy, or 
 one residing with his friends, we find him in 
 the honourable positions of a first-form boy 
 and one of the monitors of the school. He 
 was, however, never chosen as one of the 
 orators, or those who speak the oration on the 
 Founder's Day, nor does he appear among the 
 writers of the Charterhouse odes, which have 
 been collected and printed from time to time 
 in a small volume. We need feel no surprise 
 that Thackeray's ambition did not lead him 
 to seek this sort of distinction ; like most 
 keen humorists, he preferred exercising his 
 powers of satire in burlesquing these some- 
 what trite compositions to contributing 
 seriously to swell their numbers. Prize 
 poems ever yielded the novelist a delightful 
 field for his sarcasms. 
 
 While pursuing his studies at 'Snuffle/ 
 as the Carthusians were pleased to style 
 1 Greyfriars,' Thackeray gave abundant evi- 
 dences of the gifts that were in him. He scribbled juvenile verses, 
 
 A Man of Letters 
 
 Early efforts at Drawing 
 
 towards the close of his school days, displaying taste for the 
 
EARLY REMINISCENCES. 
 
 s 
 
 healthy sarcasm which afterwards became one of his distinctive 
 qualities, at the expense of the prosaic compositions set down as 
 school verses. In one of his class books, ' Thucydides,' with his 
 autograph, 'Charter House, 1827,' are scribbled two verses in 
 which the tender passion is treated somewhat realistically : — 
 
 Love 's like a mutton chop, 
 
 Soon it grows cold ; 
 All its attractions bop 
 
 Ere it grows old. 
 Love 's like the cholic sure, 
 Both painful to endure ; 
 Brandy ; s for both a cure, 
 
 So I've been told. 
 
 When for some fair the swain 
 
 Burns with desire, 
 In Hymen's fatal chain 
 
 Eager to try her, 
 He weds as soon as he can, 
 And jumps — unhappy man — 
 Out of the frying pan 
 
 Into the fire. 
 
 As to the humorist's pencil, even throughout these early days, it 
 must have been an unfailing source of delight, not only to the owner 
 but to the companions of his form. ' Draw us some pictures/ the 
 
 boys would say ; and straightway 
 
 down popped a caricature of a 
 
 master on slate or exercise paper. 
 
 Then school books were brought 
 
 into requisition, and the fly-leaves 
 
 were adorned with whimsical 
 
 travesties of the subjects of their 
 
 contents. Abbe Barthelemy's 
 
 'Travels of Anacharsis the 
 Younger' suggested the figure of a wandering minstrel, with battered 
 hat and dislocated flageolet, piping his way through the world in 
 the dejected fashion in which those forlorn pilgrims might have 
 presented themselves to the charitable dwellers in Charterhouse 
 
THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 'A Gingham' 
 
 Square ; while Anacharsis, Junior, habited in classic guise, was sent 
 (pictorially) tramping the high road from Scythia to Athens, with 
 stick and bundle over his back, a wallet 
 at his side, sporting a family umbrella 
 of the defunct ' gingham ' species as a 
 staff, and furnished with lace-up hob- 
 nailed boots of the shape, size, and 
 weight popularly approved by navvies. 
 Then Ainsworth's Latin Dictionary 
 was turned into a sketch book, and sup- 
 plemented with studies of head-masters, 
 early conceptions of Roman warriors, 
 primitive Carthusians indulging disrespectful gestures, known as 
 ' sights,' at the rears of respectable governors, and boys of the 
 neighbouring 'blue coat' foundation, their costume completed 
 with the addition of a fool's or dunce's long-eared cap. 
 
 Fantastic designs, even when marked by the early graphic 
 talent which Thackeray's rudest scribblings display, are apt to en- 
 tail unpleasant consequences when discovered in school-books, 
 and greater attractions were held 
 out by works of fiction. 
 
 Pages of knight-errantry were 
 the things for inspiration : Quix- 
 ote, Orlando Furioso, Valentine 
 and Orson, the Seven Champions, 
 Cyrus the Grand (and intermin- 
 able), mystic and chivalrous le- 
 gends, quite forgotten in our 
 generation, but which, in Thack- 
 eray's boyhood, were considered 
 fascinating reading ; — quaint ro- 
 mances, Italian, Spanish, and Per- 
 sian tales, familiar enough in those 
 days, and oft referred to, with ac- 
 cents of tender regret, in the re- 
 miniscences of the great novelist. 
 
 What charms did the ' Arabian Nights ' hold out for his kindling 
 imagination, — how frequently were its heroes and its episodes 
 brought in to supply some apt allusion in his later writings ! It 
 
 In a state of suspense 
 
SCHOOLDAY ROMANCES. 7 
 
 seems that Thackeray's pencil never tired of his favourite stories 
 in the ' Thousand and One Nights/ precious to him for preserving 
 
 ever green the impressions of boyhood. How numerous his un- 
 published designs from these tales, those who treasure his number- 
 less and diversified sketches can alone tell. We see the thrilling 
 
 Fancy sketch 
 
 A worthy Cit 
 
 A Grey Friar 
 
 episode of ' AH Baba ' perched among the branches, while the 
 robbers bear their spoil to the mysterious cave, repeated with 
 
8 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 unvarying interest, and each time with some fresh point of humour 
 to give value to the slight tracings. 
 
 'Make us some faces,' his school-companions would cry. 
 Whom will you have ? name your friends,' says the young artist. 
 
 Perhaps one young rogue, with a 
 schoolboy's taste for personalities, 
 will cry, c Old Buggins ; ' and the 
 junior Buggins blushes and fidgets 
 as the ideal presentment of his pro- 
 genitor is rapidly dashed off and 
 held up to the appreciation of a 
 circle of rapturous critics. ' Now,' 
 says the wounded youngster, glad to 
 retaliate, 'you remember old Fig- 
 gins' pater when he brought Old 
 Figs back and forgot to tip — draw 
 him ! ' and a faithful portraiture of 
 that economic civic ornament is 
 produced from recollection. 
 
 The gallery of family portraits 
 is doubtless successfully exhausted, 
 and each of the boys who love 
 books, calls for a different favourite 
 of fiction, or the designer exercises 
 
 Blueskin 
 
MELODRAMATIC HEROES. 
 
 his budding fancy in summoning monks, Turks, ogres, bandits, 
 
 highwaymen, and other 
 heroes, traditional or im- 
 aginary, from that won- 
 derful well of his, which, 
 in after years, was to pour 
 out so frankly from its 
 rich reservoirs for the 
 recreation, and improve- 
 ment too, of an audience 
 more numerous, but 
 perhaps less enthusiastic, 
 than that which sur- 
 rounded him at Grey- 
 friars. 
 
 Holidays came, and 
 
 Early Recreations — Marbles 
 
IO 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 iHrBHBSHSS * 
 
 write of nautical melodramas, of 'Black Ey'd Seusan, 
 
THEATRICAL REMINISCENCES. 
 
 ii 
 
 simply constructed pieces as he has parodied in the pages of 
 [ Punch : ' such as Theodore Hook is described hitting off on 
 the piano after dinner. Think of Sadler's Wells, and the real 
 water, turned on from the New River adjacent. Remember Astley's, 
 and its gallant stud of horses. How faded are all these glories in 
 our time, yet they were gorgeous subjects for young Thackeray's 
 hand to work out ; and we can well conceive eager little Cistercians, 
 
 in miniature black gowns and breeches, revelling over the splendid 
 pictures, perhaps made more glorious with the colour box. How 
 many of these scraps have been treasured to this day, and are now 
 gone with the holders, heaven knows where ? 
 
 Then there was ' Shakespeare/ always a favourite with ' Tit- 
 marsh.' Think of the obsolete, conventional trappings in which the 
 characters of the great playwright were then condemned to strut 
 about to the perfect satisfaction of the audience, before theatrical 
 ' costume ' became a fine art ! And then there were Braham, and 
 Incledon, and the jovial rollicking tuneful * Beggar's Opera. 7 
 
12 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Behold the swaggering Macheath, reckless in good fortune, and 
 •consistently light-hearted up to his premature exit. 
 
 The Captain 
 
 ( Since laws were made for ev'ry degree. 
 To cvrb vice in others, as well as me, 
 I wonder we han't better company 
 Upon Tyburn tree! 
 
 But gold from law can take out the sting: 
 A fid if rich men like us were to swing, 
 'Twould thin the land, such numbers to string 
 Upon Tyburn tree T 
 
 4 The charge is prepared, the Lawyers are met; 
 
 The yudges all rangd (a terrible show !) 
 I go undismafd—for death is a debt, 
 A debt on demand, — so take what I owe. 
 
 Then, farewell, my love — dear charmers, adieu; 
 Contented I die — 'tis the better for you ; 
 Here ends all dispute the rest of our lives, 
 For this way at o?ice 1 please all my wives' 
 
CAPTAIN MACHEATH. 
 
 13 
 
14 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 In his < English Humorists of the Eighteenth Century,' our 
 author does not forget to pay his honest tribute to Gay, some 
 of whose verses we have just quoted. 
 
 ; At the tree I shall suffer with pleasure. 
 At the tree I shall suffer with pleasure, 
 
 Let me go where I will, 
 
 In all kinds of ill, 
 Ishallfi?id no such Furies as these are? 
 
 Thackeray's predilections for the stage survived the first flush of 
 enthusiasm, and, like most of his pleasures, flourished vigorously 
 almost throughout his career. 
 
 It may be fresh in the recollections of most of his admirers 
 how in 1848 he describes, in his great work, Vanity Fair, a visit 
 to Drury Lane Theatre — the vivid colouring of which picture out- 
 shines his entire gallery of theatrical sketches. 
 
 The stout figure and slightly Mosaic cast of countenance of 
 Braham will be recognised opposite, gorgeous in stage trappings, as 
 he appeared in the opera of the ' Lion of Judah ; ' Thackeray also 
 
REMINISCENCES OF < GOING TO THE PLAY: 15 
 
 Mr. Braham 
 
 dedicated to him another portrait, with a copy of mock laudatory 
 verses, in the ' National Standard/ to which engaging production 
 
 some allusion will be found under the notice of the author's earlier 
 contributions to periodical literature. 
 
i6 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 Speculation 
 
 Quixote 
 
 A formidable foe 
 
EARLY SKETCHES. 
 
 17 
 
 A Roman sentry 
 
 A Spanish Don 
 
i8 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Early Favourites— The Castle of Otranto— Rollin's Ancient -History. 
 
 The references made by 
 Thackeray to the romances 
 which thrilled the sympa- 
 thies of novel-readers in his 
 youth are spread throughout 
 his writings. In the 'Round- 
 about Paper 5 devoted to 
 reminiscences of fictions 
 which delighted his school- 
 days, he whimsically deplores 
 that Time, among other in- 
 satiable propensities, should 
 devour the glories of novels, 
 and especially of those which have befriended his youth ; that 
 no friendly hand should take the volumes down from their long 
 rest on the library shelves ; that the profits of the forlorn novelists 
 should dwindle infinitesimally as the popularity of their bantlings 
 fades, until limbo finally takes them into indefinite keeping. 
 
 In another paper, 'De Juventate,' he makes an earlier record 
 of his partiality for the imaginary companions of his boyhood. 
 After alluding to the games of his time, which he finds little 
 changed, Mr. Roundabout reverts to his favourite old novels, 
 and challenges the present day to rival their attractions, as far as 
 his boyish imagination was concerned. * O " Scottish Chiefs," 
 didn't we weep over you ? O " Mysteries of Udolpho," didn't I 
 and Briggs minor draw pictures out of you, as I have said ? ' 
 
 On the title-page of one of his old class-books, ' The Eton 
 Latin Grammar/ we find fanciful scribblings, in the manner of 
 
THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO. 19 
 
 Skelt's once famous theatrical characters, of schoolboy versions 
 of Sir William Wallace triumphing over the fallen Sir Ayrner 
 de Valence, while Thaddeus of Warsaw, attired in a square Polish 
 cap, laced jacket, tights, and Hessian boots, his belt stuck round 
 with pistols, is gallantly flourishing a curly sabre. 
 
 Sketches of this picturesque nature seem to have held a 
 certain charm over the novelist's fancy through life ; the impres- 
 sions of his boyhood are jotted down in all sorts of melodramatic 
 fragments. 
 
 Similar reminiscences, applying to different stages of our 
 writer's career, and forming portions of the illustrations to 
 1 Thackeray ana,' will be recognised throughout this work. 
 
 We endeavour to trace sufficient of the thread of the once 
 familiar story of 'The Castle of Otranto ' (published in 1782, the 
 fourth edition), enlivened with highly droll marginal pencillings, 
 to assist our readers in a ready appreciation of the point and cha- 
 racter of the little designs, as it is more than probable that, by 
 this time, the interest and incidents of the original fiction are 
 somewhat obscured in the memories of our readers. We follow 
 the words of the author as closely as possible. 
 
 ' Manfred, Prince of Otranto, had one son and one daughter. 
 The latter, a most beautiful virgin, aged eighteen, was called 
 Matilda. Conrad, the son, was only fifteen, and of a sickly con- 
 stitution ; he was the hope of his father, who had contracted a 
 marriage for him with the Marquis of Vicenza's daughter, Isabella. 
 The bride elect had been delivered by the guardians into Man- 
 fred's hands, that the marriage might take place as soon as Con- 
 rad's infirm health would permit it. The impatience of the prince 
 for the completion of this ceremonial was attributed to his 
 dread of seeing an ancient prophecy accomplished, which pro- 
 nounced — " that the Castle and Lordship of Otranto should pass 
 from the present family, whenever the real owner should be 
 grown too large to inhabit it." 
 
 ' Young Conrad's birthday was fixed for the marriage ; the 
 company were assembled in the chapel of the castle, everything 
 ready, — but the bridegroom was missing ! The prince, in alarm, 
 went in search of his son. The first object that struck Manfred's 
 •eyes was a group of his servants endeavouring to raise something 
 
„ Q THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 that appeared to him a mountain of sable plumes "What are 
 ve doing ? " he cried, wrathfully ; " where is my son ? A volley of 
 voices replied, "Oh! my lord ! the prince ! the helmet ! the 
 helmet ' " Shocked with these lamentable sounds, and dreading 
 
 he knew not what, he advanced hastily,-but what a sight for a 
 father's eyes ' He beheld his child dashed to pieces, and almost 
 buried under an enormous helmet, a hundred times larger than 
 any casque ever made for human being, and shaded with a pro- 
 portionable quantity of black feathers. 
 
THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO. 
 
 21 
 
 ' The consternation produced by this murderous apparition did 
 not diminish. Isabella was, however, relieved at her escape from 
 an ill-assorted union. Manfred continued to 
 gaze at the terrible casque. No one could ex- 
 plain its presence. In the midst of their sense- 
 less guesses, a young peasant, whom rumour had 
 drawn thither from a neighbouring village, ob- 
 served that the miraculous helmet was like that 
 on the figure in black marble, in the church 
 of St. Nicholas, of Alonzo the Good (the original 
 Prince of Otranto, who died without leaving an ascertained heir, 
 and whose steward, Manfred's grandfather, had illegally contrived 
 to obtain possession of the castle, estates, and title). " Villain \ 
 what sayest thou ? " cried Manfred, starting from 
 his trance in a tempest of rage, and seizing the 
 young man by the collar. " How darest thou 
 utter such treason ? Thy life shall pay for it ! " 
 The peasant was secured, and confined, as a 
 necromancer, under the gigantic helmet, there 
 to be starved to death. Manfred retired to his 
 chamber to meditate in solitude over the blow 
 which had descended on his house. His gentle 
 daughter, Matilda, heard his disordered footsteps. 
 She was just going to beg admittance, when Manfred suddenly opened 
 the door ; and as it was now twilight, concurring with the disorder of 
 his mind) he did not distinguish the person, but asked angrily who 
 
 it was. Matilda replied, trem- 
 bling, " My dearest father, it 
 is I, your daughter." Man- 
 fred, stepping back hastily, 
 cried, " Begone, I do not want 
 a daughter ; " and flinging back 
 abruptly, clapped the door 
 against the terrified Matilda. 
 His dejected daughter returned 
 to her mother, the pious Hippolita, who was being comforted 
 by Isabella. A servant, on the part of Manfred, informed the 
 latter that Manfred demanded to speak with her. " With me ! " 
 cried Isabella. "Go," said Hippolita, "console him, and tell 
 
22 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 him that I will smother my own anguish rather than add to 
 his." 
 
 1 As it was now evening, the servant, who conducted Isabella, 
 bore a torch before her. When they came to Manfred, who was 
 walking impatiently about the 
 gallery, he started, and said 
 hastily, " Take away that light, 
 and begone." Then, shutting 
 the door impetuously, he flung 
 himself upon a bench against 
 the wall, and bade Isabella sit 
 by him. She obeyed trem- 
 bling. The iniquitous Manfred 
 then proposed, that as his son 
 was dead, Isabella should espouse him instead, and he would 
 divorce the virtuous Hippolita. Manfred, on her refusal, resorted 
 
 to violence, when the plumes of the 
 fatal helmet suddenly waved to and 
 fro tempestuously in the moonlight. 
 Manfred, disregarding the portent,, 
 cried — " Heaven nor hell shall im- 
 pede my designs," and advanced to 
 seize the princess. At that instant 
 the portrait of his grandfather, which 
 hung over the bench where they had 
 been sitting, uttered a deep sigh, 
 and heaved its breast. Manfred was distracted between his pur- 
 suit of Isabella and the aspect of the picture, which quitted its- 
 panel and stepped on the floor with a grave and melancholy air. 
 The vision sighed and made a sign to Manfred to follow him. 
 " Lead on ! " cried Manfred ; " I will follow thee to the gulph of 
 perdition." The spectre marched sedately, but dejected, to the end 
 of the gallery. Manfred followed, full of anxiety and horror, but 
 resolved. The spectre retired. Isabella had fled to a subterranean 
 passage leading from the Castle to the Sanctuary of St. Nicholas. 
 In this vault she encountered the young peasant who had provoked 
 the animosity of Manfred. He lifted up a secret trap-door, and 
 Isabella made her escape ; but Manfred and his followers prevented 
 the flight of the daring stranger. The prince, who expected to 
 
THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO. 
 
 23 
 
 secure Isabella, was considerably startled to discover this youth in 
 her stead. The weight of the helmet had broken the pavement 
 above, and he had thus alighted in time to assist Isabella, whose 
 disappearance he denied. A noise of voices startled Manfred, who 
 was alarmed by fresh indications of hostile evidences. Jacques 
 and Diego, two of his retainers, detailed the fresh cause of alarm. 
 It was thus : they had heard a noise — they opened a door and ran 
 back, their hair standing on end with terror. 
 
 ' " It is a giant, I believe," said Diego ; "he is all clad in armour, 
 for I saw his foot and part of his leg, and they are as large as the 
 
 helmet below in the court. We heard a violent motion, and the 
 rattling of armour, as if the giant was rising. Before we could get 
 to the end of the gallery we heard the door of the great chamber 
 clap behind us ; but for Heaven's sake, good my lord, send for 
 the chaplain and have the place exorcised, for it is certainly 
 haunted." The attendants searched for Isabella in vain. The 
 next morning father Jerome arrived, announcing that she had 
 taken refuge at the altar of St. Nicholas. He came to inform 
 Hippolita of the perfidy of her husband. Manfred prevented him, 
 saying, " I do not use to let my wife be acquainted 
 with the affairs of my state ; they are not within 
 a woman's province." " My Lord," said the holy 
 man, " I am no intruder into the secrets of families. 
 My office is to promote peace and teach man- 
 kind to curb their headstrong passions. I forgive 
 your highness's uncharitable apostrophe ; I know 
 my duty, and am the minister of a mightier Prince than Manfred. 
 Hearken to Him who speaks through my organs." The good 
 father — to divert Manfred by a subterfuge from his unhallowed de- 
 signs—suggested that there might, perhaps, be an attachment be- 
 
24 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 tween the peasant and his recluse. Manfred was so enraged that he 
 ordered the youth who defied him to be executed forthwith. The 
 removal of the peasant's doublet disclosed the mark of a bloody arrow. 
 " Gracious Heaven ! " cried the priest, starting, " what do I see ? it 
 is my child ! my Theodore ! " Manfred was deaf to the prayers of 
 the father and friar, and ordered the tragedy to proceed. " A 
 saint's bastard may be no saint himself/' said the prince sternly. 
 The friar exclaimed, " His blood is noble ; he is my lawful son, and 
 I am the Count of Falconara ! " At this critical 
 juncture the tramp of horses was heard, the 
 sable plumes of the enchanted helmet were 
 again agitated, and a brazen trumpet was sounded 
 without. " Father," said Manfred, " do you go to 
 the wicket and demand who is at the gate." " Do 
 you grant me the life of Theodore ? " replied 
 the friar. " I do," said the prince. The new 
 arrival was a herald from the Knight of the 
 Gigantic Sabre, who requested to speak with the Usurper of Otranto. 
 1 Manfred was enraged at this message ; he ordered Jerome to 
 be thrust out, and to reconduct Isabella to the castle, and com- 
 manded Theodore to be confined in the black tower. He then 
 directed the herald to be admitted to his presence. 
 
 1 " Well ! thou insolent ! " said the prince, " what wouldst thou 
 with me?" " I come," replied he, " to thee, Manfred, usurper of 
 the principality of Otranto, from the renowned and invincible 
 knight, the Knight of the Gigantic Sabre : in the name of his Lord, 
 Frederic, Marquis of Vicenza, he demands the Lady Isabella, 
 daughter of that prince whom thou hast basely and treacherously 
 got into thy power, by bribing her false guardians during his 
 absence \ he requires thee to resign the principality of Otranto, 
 which thou hast usurped from the said Lord Frederic, the nearest 
 of blood to the last rightful Lord Alonzo the Good. If thou dost 
 not instantly comply with these just demands, he defies thee to 
 single combat to the last extremity." And so saying, the herald 
 cast down his warder. Manfred knew how well founded this claim 
 was ; indeed, his object in seeking an alliance with Isabella had 
 been to unite the claimants in one interest. 
 
 1 The herald was despatched to bid the champions welcome, and 
 the prince ordered the gates to be flung open for the reception of 
 
THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO. 
 
 25 
 
 the stranger knight and his retinue. In a few minutes the caval- 
 cade arrived. First came two harbingers with wands. Next a 
 herald, followed by two pages and two trumpets. Then a hundred 
 foot-guards. These were attended by as many horse. After them 
 fifty foot-men clothed in scarlet and black, the colours of the 
 knight. Then a led horse. Two heralds on each side of a gentle- 
 man on horseback bearing a banner with the arms of Vicenza and 
 Otranto quarterly — a circumstance that much offended Manfred, 
 but he stifled his resentment. Two more pages. The knight's 
 confessor telling his beads. Fifty more foot-men clad as before. 
 Two knights habited in complete armour, their beavers down, 
 comrades to the principal knight. The squires of the two knights, 
 carrying their shields and devices. The knight's own squire. A 
 hundred gentlemen bearing an enormous sword, and seeming to 
 
 faint under the weight of it. The knight himself on a chestnut steed, 
 in complete armour, his lance in the rest, his face entirely concealed 
 by his vizor, which was surmounted by a large plume of scarlet and 
 black feathers. Fifty foot-guards, with drums and trumpets, 
 closed the procession. Manfred invited the train to enter the great 
 hall of his castle. He proposed to the stranger to disarm, but the 
 knight shook his head in token of refusal. " Rest here," said Man- 
 fred ; " I will but give orders for the accommodation of your train, 
 and return to you." The three knights bowed as accepting his 
 courtesy. Manfred directed the stranger's retinue to be conducted 
 to an adjacent hospital, founded by the Princess Hippolita for the 
 reception of pilgrims. As they made the circuit of the court, the 
 gigantic sword burst from the supporters, and falling to the ground 
 opposite the helmet, remained immovable. 
 
26 
 
 THA CKERA YANA . 
 
 ' Manfred, almost hardened to supernatural appearances, sur- 
 mounted the shock of this new prodigy ; and returning to the hall, 
 where by this time the feast was 
 ready, he invited his silent guests to 
 take their places. Manfred, however 
 ill at ease was his heart, endeavoured 
 to inspire the company with mirth. 
 He put several questions to them, 
 but was answered only by signs. 
 They raised their vizors but suffi- 
 ciently to feed themselves, and that // «j r \» 
 sparingly. During the parley Father 
 Jerome hurried in to report the disappearance of Isabella. The 
 knights and their retinue dispersed to search the neighbourhood, 
 and Manfred, with his vassals, quitted the castle to confuse their 
 movements. Theodore was still confined in the black tower, but 
 his guards were gone. The gentle Matilda came to his assistance ; 
 she carried him to her father's armoury, and having equipped 
 him with a complete suit, conducted him to the postern-gate. 
 " Avoid the town," said the princess, " but hie thee to the opposite 
 quarter ; yonder is a chain of rocks, hollowed into a labyrinth of 
 caverns that lead to the sea-coast. Go ! Heaven be thy guide ! 
 and sometimes, in thy prayers, remember Matilda ! " Theodore 
 
 flung himself at her feet, and seizing 
 her lily hand, which with struggles 
 she suffered him to kiss, he vowed 
 on the earliest opportunity to get 
 himself knighted, and fervently in- 
 treated her permission to swear him- 
 self eternally her champion. He 
 then sighed and retired, but with 
 eyes fixed on the gate, until Matilda, 
 closing it, put an end to an interview, in which the hearts of both 
 had drunk so deeply of a passion which both now tasted for the 
 first time.' 
 
 We must now crowd the sequel of this remarkable story into 
 the smallest possible space. In the caverns Theodore recovered 
 the distracted Isabella ; but a knight arrived at the moment of his 
 happy discovery, and mistrusting her deliverer, while Theodore 
 
THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO. 
 
 27 
 
 deceived himself as to the intentions of the stranger, a desperate 
 combat ensued, and the younger champion gained the victory. The 
 stranger knight explained his mistake, and revealed himself as the 
 missing Marquis of Vicenza, father to Isabella, and nearest heir 
 
 to Alonzo. He anticipated his wounds were fatal, but he recovered 
 at the castle. Manfred artfully pursued his unholy designs for a 
 union with Isabella. He gave a great feast, with this object, but 
 Theodore withdrew from the revelry to pray with Matilda at the 
 tomb of Alonzo. Manfred followed him to the chapel, believing 
 his companion was Isabella, and struck his dagger through the 
 heart of his daughter. He was overwhelmed with remorse for his 
 error, on discovering that he had murdered his child. Theodore 
 
28 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 revealed to Frederic that he was the real and rightful successor to 
 Alonzo. This declaration was confirmed by the apparition of 
 Alonzo. Thunder and a clank of more than mortal armour was 
 heard. The walls of the y 
 
 castle behind Manfred .— _ \ 
 
 were thrown down with 
 a mighty force, and the 
 form of Alonzo, dilated 
 to an immense magni- 
 tude, appeared in the 
 centre of the ruins. ' Be- 
 hold in Theodore the true 
 heir of Alonzo ! ; said the 
 vision, and, ascending so- 
 lemnly towards heaven, the 
 clouds parted asunder, and 
 the form of St. Nicholas 
 received Alonzo's shade. 
 Manfred confessed, in his 
 terror, that Alonzo had 
 been poisoned by his grand- 
 father, and a -fictitious will 
 had accomplished his trea- 
 cherous end. Jerome fur- 
 ther revealed that Alonzo had secretly 
 espoused Victoria, a Sicilian virgin. 
 After the good knight's decease a daugh- 
 ter was born. Her hand had been be- 
 stowed on him, the disguised Count of 
 Falconara. Theodore was the fruit of 
 their marriage, thus establishing his di- 
 rect right to the principality. Manfred 
 and his virtuous wife, Hippolita, retired 
 to neighbouring convents. Frederic 
 offered his daughter to the new prince, 
 but ' it was not until after frequent dis- 
 courses with Isabella of dear Matilda that he was persuaded he 
 could know no happiness but in the society of one with whom 
 he could for ever indulge the melancholy that had taken pos- 
 
ROLLINGS ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 29 
 
 session of his soul/ with which cheerful prospect the ' Castle of 
 Otranto ' is brought to an appropriate conclusion. 
 
 On the fly-leaf at the end of this worthy novel follows a sketch 
 suggestive of the out-of-door sports alluded to earlier. 
 
 An instance of the felicitous parodies to which the works of 
 grave historians are liable at the hands of a budding satirist is sup- 
 plied by ' Rollin's Ancient History,' one of the books of which we 
 feel bound to give more than a passing notice ; we therefore select 
 the more tempting passages of the eight volumes forming the par- 
 ticular edition in question, to which a fresh interest is contributed 
 by certain slight but pertinent pencillings probably referable to a 
 somewhat later period. 
 
 SKETCHES ILLUSTRATIVE OF < ROLLIN'S ANCIENT 
 HISTORY.' 
 
 Ancient History of the Egyptians, etc. etc. 
 
 '. . . In the early morning and at daybreak, when their 
 minds were clearest and their thoughts were most pure, the 
 Egyptians would read the letters they had re- 
 ceived, the better to obtain a just and truthful 
 impression of the business on which they had to 
 decide.' — Vol. I. p. 60. 
 
 1 ... In addition to the adoration practised 
 by the Egyptians of 
 Osiris, Iris, and the 
 higher divinities, they 
 worshipped a large 
 number of animals, 
 paying an especial re- 
 spect to the cat.' — 
 Vol. I. p. 73. 
 
 ' Until the reign of Psammeticus the Egyp- 
 tians were believed to be the most ancient 
 people on the earth. Wishing to assure them- 
 selves of this antiquity, they employed a most 
 remarkable test, if the statement is worthy of credit. Two chil- 
 
3o 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 dren, just born of poor parents, were shut up in two separate 
 cabins in the country, and a shepherd was directed to feed them 
 on goat's milk. (Others state that they were nourished by nurses 
 
 The Historic Muse supported by the veracious historians. 
 
 Frontispiece to Vol. I. 
 
 In this sketch Monsieur Rollin is archly classed among the ranks of the 
 writers of fiction — a position to which he is entitled from the remarkable nature 
 of the facts he gravely puts on record. 
 
ROLLINGS ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 3i 
 
 whose tongues had been cut out.) No one was permitted to enter 
 the cabins, and no word was ever allowed to be pronounced in 
 
 their presence. One day, 
 when these children arrived at 
 the age of two years, the shep- 
 herd entered to bring them 
 their usual food, when each of 
 them, from their different di- 
 visions, extending their hands 
 to the keeper, cried, " Beccos, 
 beccos." This word, it was 
 discovered, was employed by the Phrygians to signify bread ; and 
 since that period this nation has enjoyed, above all other peoples, 
 the honour of the earliest antiquity.' — Vol. I. p. 162. 
 
 Triumphant Statue of Scipio Africanus.— End of Vol. I. 
 
32 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 History of the Carthaginians, etc. etc. 
 
 ' . . . Virgil has greatly altered many facts in his " History of 
 the Carthaginians," by the supposition that his hero, ^Eneas, was a 
 contemporary of Dido, although there 
 is an interval of about three centuries 
 between the two personages ; Carthage 
 having been built nearly three hundred 
 
 years before 
 
 the Fall of 
 
 Troy.'— Vol. I. 
 
 p. 241. 
 
 '. . . Bythe 
 
 AENEAS 
 
 order of Hannibal a road was excavated 
 through the bed of the rocks, and this 
 labour was carried on with astonishing 
 vigour and perseverance. To open and 
 enlarge this pathway they felled all the 
 trees in the adjoining parts, and as soon 
 as the timber was cut down the soldiers 
 arranged the trunks on all sides of the 
 rocks, and the wood was then set on fire. 
 
 Fortunately, there being a high wind, an ardent flame was quickly 
 kindled, until the rock glowed with heat as fiery as the furnace burn- 
 ing round it. Hannibal — if we may credit Titus Livius (for Polybius* 
 does not mention the circumstance) — then caused a great quan- 
 tity of vinegar to be poured upon the heated stone, which ran into 
 
 * The most improbable part of this narrative, observes the historian, is, 
 that Hannibal, in the very centre of the mountains, should have been able to 
 obtain sufficiently large quantities of vinegar for the operations. 
 
ROLLINGS ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 33 
 
 the fissures of the rocks (already cracked by the heat of the fire), 
 and caused them to soften and calcine to powder. By this con- 
 trivance he prepared a road through the heart of the mountains, 
 giving easy passage to his troops, their baggage, and even their 
 elephants.' — Vol. I. p. 406. 
 
 YE BATTLE OF CANNES 
 
 Battle of Cannes. —Vol. 1 p. 439 
 
 History of the Lydians. 
 
 ' Croesus, wishing to assure himself of the veracity of the dif- 
 ferent oracles, sent deputies to consult the most celebrated sooth- 
 sayers both in Africa and in Greece, with orders to inform them- 
 selves how Croesus was engaged at a certain hour on a day that 
 was pointed out to them. 
 
 ' His instructions were exactly carried out. The oracle of 
 Delphi returned the only correct reply. It was given in verses of 
 the hexameter metre, and was in sub- 
 stance : " I know the number of grains 
 of sand in the sea, and the measure of 
 the vast deep. I understand the dumb, 
 and those who have not learned to 
 speak. My senses are saluted with the 
 savoury odour of a turtle stewed with 
 the flesh of lambs in a brazier, which 
 has copper on all sides, above and 
 below ! " 
 
 1 In fact the king, desiring to select 
 some employment which it would be 
 impossible to divine, had occupied him- 
 self at the hour appointed for the re- 
 velation in preparing a turtle and a lamb in a copper stewpan. 
 which had also a lid of copper.' — Vol. II. p. 129. 
 
34 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 History of Cyrus. 
 
 < . When the people of Ionia and yEolia learnt that Cyrus 
 had mastered the Lydians, they despatched ambassadors to him 
 at Sardis, proposing to be received into his empire, under the same 
 conditions as he had accorded to the Lydians. Cyrus, who before 
 
 his victories had vainly solicited them to 
 unite in his cause, and who now found 
 himself in a position to constrain them by 
 force, gave as his only answer the apologue 
 of a fisherman, who, having tried to lure 
 the fish with the notes of his flute, without 
 any success, had recourse to his net as the 
 shortest method of securing them.' — Vol. 
 II. p. 232. 
 
 ' Herodotus, and after him Justinian, re- 
 counts that Astyages, King of the Medes, 
 on the impressions of an alarming dream, 
 which announced that a child his daugh- 
 ter was to bear would dethrone him, gave 
 
ROLLINGS ANCIENT HISTORY. 35 
 
 Mandane, his daughter, in marriage to a Persian of obscure birth 
 and condition, named Cambyses. A son being born of this mar- 
 riage, the king charged Harpagus, one of his principal officers, to 
 put the child to death. Harpagus gave him to one of his shep- 
 herds to be exposed in a forest However, the infant, being 
 miraculously preserved, and afterwards nourished in secret by the 
 herd's wife, was at last recognised by his royal grandfather, who 
 contented himself by his removal to the centre of Persia, and 
 vented all his fury on the unhappy officer, whose own son he 
 caused to be served up, to be eaten by him at a feast. Some 
 years later the young Cyrus was informed by Harpagus of the 
 circumstances of his birth and position ; animated by his counsels 
 and remonstrances, he raised an army in Persia, marched against 
 Astyages, and challenged him to battle. The sovereignty of the 
 empire thus passed from the hands of the Medes to the Persians.' 
 —Vol. II. p. 315. 
 
 Ancient History of Greece. 
 
 1 The wealthy and luxurious members of the Lacedemonians 
 were extremely irritated against Lycurgus on account of his 
 decree introducing public repasts 
 as the means best suited to en- 
 force temperance. 
 
 ' It was on this occasion that 
 a young man, named Alcandres, 
 put out one of Lycurgus's eyes 
 with his staff, during a popular 
 tumult. The people, indignant 
 
 at so great an outrage, placed the youth in his hands. Lycurgus 
 permitted himself a most honourable vengeance, converting him, 
 by his kindness, and the generosity of his treatment, from violence 
 and rebellion to moderation and wisdom.' — Vol. II, p 526. 
 
 d 2 
 
36 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Ancient History of the Persians and the Greeks. 
 
 ' The Greek historians gave to Artaxerxes the surname of 
 
 Longhand," because, according to Strabo, his hands were so long 
 
 that, when he stood erect, he was able to touch 
 
 his knees ; according to Plutarch, because his 
 
 right hand was longer than the left ' — Vol. Ill, 
 
 P- 347- 
 
 ' The stories related of the 
 voracity of the Athletes are 
 almost incredible. The appe- 
 tite of Milo was barely ap- 
 peased with twenty " mines " 
 (or pounds) of meat, as much 
 bread, and three " conges " (fif- 
 teen pints) of wine daily. 
 Athenes relates that Milo, 
 after traversing the entire length of the state 
 — bearing on his shoulders an ox of four years 7 
 growth — felled the beast with one blow of his 
 fist, and entirely devoured it in one day. 
 ' I willingly admit other exploits attributed to Milo, but is it in 
 
 the least degree probable that a single man could eat an entire ox 
 
 in one day?' — Vol III. p. 516. 
 
 '. . . While Darius was absent, making war in Egypt and 
 Arabia, the Medes revolted against him ; but they were over- 
 powered and forced into submission. To chastise this rebellion, 
 their yoke, which had until that date been very easy to bear, was 
 made more burdensome. This fate has never been spared to 
 those subjects who, having revolted, are again compelled to sub- 
 mit to the power they wished to depose.' — Vol. III. p. 613. 
 
ROLLINGS ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 37 
 
 Ancient History of the Persians and the Greeks. 
 
 Death of Alcibiades. 
 
 • . . . Alcibiades was living at that time in a small town of 
 
 Phrygia, with Timandra, his mistress (it is pretended that Lais, 
 
 the celebrated courtesan — known as " the Corinthian " — was a 
 
 daughter of this Timandra). The ruffians who were engaged to 
 
 Frontispiece to Vol. IV. 
 
 assassinate him had not the courage to enter his house ; they 
 contented themselves by surrounding it and setting it on fire. 
 Alcibiades, sword in hand, having passed through the flames, 
 these barbarians did not dare to await a hand-to-hand combat 
 with him, but sought safety in flight ; but, in their retreat, they 
 overcame him with showers of darts and arrows. Alcibiades fell 
 
38 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 down dead in the place. Timandra secured the remains, and 
 draped the body with her finest vestments ; she gave him the 
 
 most magnificent funeral the state of her fortune would permit.' — 
 Vol. IV. p. no. 
 
 Retreat of the Greeks from Babylon. 
 
 the 
 the 
 
 ' . . . The troops put themselves in marching order ; 
 
 battalions forming one large square, the baggage being in 
 centre. Two of the oldest 
 colonels commanded the 
 right and left wings.' — Vol. 
 IV. p. 190. 
 
 1 Agesilaus was in Bceotia, 
 ready to give battle, when 
 he heard the distressing 
 news of the destruction of 
 the Lacedemonian fleet by 
 Conon, near Cnidus. Fear- 
 ing the rumour of this de- 
 feat would discourage and 
 intimidate his troops, who 
 
 were then preparing for battle, he reported throughout the army 
 
 that the Lacedemonians had gained a considerable naval victory ; 
 
 he also appeared in public, wearing his castor crowned with flowers, 
 
 and offered sacrifices for the good news.' — Vol. IV. p. 287. 
 
 ' . . . Artaxerxes resorted to treason unworthy of a prince to 
 
 rid himself of Datames, his former favour and friendship for whom 
 
 were changed into implacable hatred. 
 
ROLLINGS ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 39 
 
 He employed assassins to destroy him, but Datames had the 
 good fortune to escape their ambuscades. 
 
 ' At last Mithridates, influenced by the splendid rewards pro- 
 mised by the king if he suc- 
 ceeded in destroying so re- ,-?. 
 doubtable an enemy, insinu- 
 ated himself into his friend- 
 ship ; and having afforded 
 Datames sufficient evidences 
 of fidelity to gain his confi- 
 dence, he took advantage of a favourable moment when he hap- 
 pened to be alone, and 
 pierced him with his 
 sword before he was in a 
 condition to defend him- 
 self.' — Vol. IV. p. 345. 
 
 ' . . . Socrates took 
 the poisoned cup from 
 the valet without chang- 
 ing colour, or exhibiting 
 emotion. " What say 
 ' you of this drink ? " he 
 asked ; " is it permitted to take more than one draught ? " They 
 replied that it was but for one libation. " At 
 least," continued he, " it is allowable to suppli- 
 cate the gods to render easy my departure be- 
 neath the earth, and my last journey happy. I 
 ask this of them with my whole heart." Having 
 spoken these words, he remained silent for some 
 time, and then drank the entire contents of the 
 cup, with marvellous tranquillity and irresistible 
 gentleness. 
 
 ' " Cito," said he — and these were his last 
 words — " we owe a cock to Esculapius ; acquit 
 yourself of this vow for me, and do not forget ! " ' 
 — Vol. IV. p. 439. 
 
 ' . . . The Greek dances prescribed rules for 
 those movements most proper to render the figure free and the 
 
4Q 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 carriage unconstrained ; to form a well-proportioned frame, and to 
 give the entire person a graceful, noble, and easy air ; in a word, 
 to obtain that politeness of exterior, if the expression is admissible, 
 which always impresses us in favour of those who have had the 
 advantage of early training.' — Vol. IV. p. 538. 
 
 * . . . After these observations on the government of the prin- 
 cipal peoples of Greece, both in peace and in war, and on their 
 various characteristics, it now remains for me to speak of theti 
 religion.' 
 
 End of Vol. IV. 
 
 History of the Successes of Alexander. 
 
 Battle of Lamia. 
 1 . . . The cavalry amounted to 3,500 horse, of which 2,000 
 were from Thessaly ; this constituted the chief force of the army, 
 
 and their only hope of success. In fact, battle being given, it 
 was this cavalry which obtained the victory, under the leadership 
 
ROLLINGS ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 41 
 
 of Menon. Lennatus, covered with mortal wounds, fell on the 
 field of battle, and was borne to the camp by his followers.' — 
 Vol. VII. p. 55. 
 
 Battle of Cappadocia. 
 
 ' Neoptolemus and Eumenes (the generals in command of the 
 hostile forces) cherished a personal hatred of each other. They 
 came to a hand-to-hand encounter, and 
 their horses falling into collision, they 
 seized each other round the body, and 
 their chargers escaping from under them 
 they fell to the ground together. Like en- 
 raged athletes, they fought in that posi- 
 tion for a long time, with a species of maddened fury, until 
 Neoptolemus received a mortal blow and expired. Eumenes then 
 remounted his horse and continued the battle.' — Vol. VII. p. 89. 
 
 ' The reign of Seleucus was described by the Arabs as the era 
 of the " Double-horned," sculptors generally representing him de- 
 corated thus, wearing the horns of a bull on his head ; this prince 
 being so powerful that he could arrest the course of a bull by 
 simply seizing it by the horns.' — Vol. VII. p. 189. 
 
 1 . . . Democles, surnamed the Beautiful, in order to escape the 
 violence of Demetrius, threw himself, while still a youth, into a 
 vessel of boiling water, which was being prepared to heat a bath, 
 and was scalded to death ; preferring to sacrifice his life rather 
 than lose his honour.' — Vol. VII. p. 374. 
 
 The Engagement of Pyrrhus with the Consul ^Evinus. 
 
 * . . . Pyrrhus exerted himself without any precaution for his 
 own security. He overthrew all that opposed him ; never losing 
 
42 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 sight of the duties of a general, he preserved perfect coolness > 
 giving orders as if he were not exposed to peril ; hurrying from 
 
 post to post to re-establish the troops who wavered, and support- 
 ing those most assailed.' — Vol. VII. p. 404. 
 
 Death of Pyrrhus at Argos, etc 
 ' . . . Placing confidence in the swiftness 
 of his charger, Pyrrhus threw himself into the 
 midst of his pursuers. He was fighting de- 
 sperately when one of the enemy approached 
 him, and penetrated his javelin through his 
 armour. The wound was neither deep nor 
 dangerous, and Pyrrhus immediately attacked 
 the man who had struck him, a mere com- 
 mon soldier, son of a poor woman of Argos. 
 Like the rest of the townswomen, his mother 
 was observing the conflict from the roof of a 
 house, and, seeing her son. who chanced to be 
 beneath her, engaged with Pyrrhus, she was 
 seized with fright at the great danger to which 
 her child was exposed, and raising a heavy 
 tile, with both hands, she hurled it on Pyrrhus. 
 
 etc. 
 
ROLLINGS ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 43 
 
 It struck him on the head with its full force, and his helmet being 
 powerless to resist the blow, he became unconscious instantly. 
 The reins dropped from his hands, and he fell from his horse with- 
 out recognition. Soon after a soldier who knew Pyrrhus observed 
 his rank, and completed the work by cutting off the king's head.' — 
 Vol. VII. p. 460. 
 
 ' . . . A few days after Ptolemy had refused the 
 peace proposals of the Gauls, the armies came to 
 an engagement, in which the Macedonians were 
 completely defeated and cut to pieces. Ptolemy, 
 covered with wounds, was made prisoner, his head 
 was cut off, and, mounted on the point of a lance, 
 was shown in derision to the soldiers of the enemy.' 
 —Vol. VII. p. 376. 
 
 ' . . . The Colossus of Rhodes remained as it 
 fell, without being disturbed for 894 years, at the 
 expiration of which time (in the year 672 
 of the Christian era) the Sixth Caliph, or 
 Emperor of the Saracens, having con- 
 quered Rhodes, he sold the remains of 
 the Colossus to a Hebrew merchant, 
 who carried it off in 500 camel loads ; thus — reck- 
 oning eight quintals to one load — the bronze of this 
 figure, after the decay, by rust, of so many years, and 
 after the probable loss of some portion by pillage, still 
 
 amounted to a weight of 720,000 pounds, or 7,200 quintals.' — - 
 Vol. VII. p. 650. 
 
44 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 1 Philip returned to the Peloponnesus shortly 
 after his defeat. He directed all his exertions 
 to deceive and surprise the Messenians. His 
 stratagems being discovered, however, he raised 
 the mask, and ravaged the entire country.' — 
 Vol. VIII. p. 121. 
 
 ' Philammon (the assassin who had been em- 
 ployed to murder Queen Arsinoe) returned to 
 Alexandria (from Cyrene) two or three days be- 
 fore the tumult. The ladies of honour, who 
 had been attached to the unfortunate queen, 
 had early information of his arrival, and they 
 determined to take advantage of the disorder 
 
 then prevailing in the city to avenge the death 
 of their mistress. They accordingly broke into 
 the house where he had sought refuge, and 
 overcame him with showers of blows from stones 
 and clubs.' — Vol. VIII. p. 215. 
 
 ' . . . Scopas, finding himself at the head of . 
 all the foreign troops — of whom the principal 
 portions were Aetolians like himself — believed 
 that as he held the command of such a formid- 
 able body of veterans, so thoroughly steeled 
 by warfare, he could easily usurp the crown 
 during the minority of the king.' — Vol. VIII. 
 
 P- 327. 
 
 ' . . . The arrival of Livius, who had com- 
 manded the fleet, and who was now sent to 
 Prusias (King of Bithynia), in the quality of an ambassador, 
 
ROLLINS ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 45 
 
 decided the resolutions of that monarch. He assisted the kinc 
 to discover on which side victory might be reasonably expected 
 
 to turn, and showed him how much safer it would be to trust 
 to the friendship of the Romans rather than rely on that of 
 Antiochus.'— Vol. VIII. p. 426. 
 
 Funeral Obsequies of Philopcemen. 
 
 * . . . When the body had been burned, and the ashes were 
 gathered together and placed in an urn, the cortege set out to 
 
 carry the remains to Megalopolis. This ceremonial resembled a 
 triumphal celebration rather than a funeral procession, or at least 
 a mixture of the two. 
 
 ' The urn, borne by the youthful Polybius, was followed by the 
 entire cavalry, armed magnificently and superbly mounted. They 
 
4 6 
 
 TIM CKERA YANA. 
 
 followed the procession without exhibiting signs of dejection for 
 so great a loss, or exultation for so great a victory.' — Vol. VIII. 
 
 P- 537- 
 
 Attempted Sacking of the Sanctuary. 
 
 < . . . Heliodorus, with his guards, entered the temple, and he 
 was proceeding to force the treasures, when a horse, richly clad, 
 
 suddenly appeared, and threw himself on Heliodorus, inflicting 
 several blows with his hoofs. The rider had a terrible aspect, 
 and his armour appeared to be of gold. At the same moment 
 two celestial-looking youths were observed on each side of the 
 violator of the sanctuary dealing chastisement without cessation, 
 and giving him severe lashes from the whips they held in their 
 hands/— Vol. VIII. p. 632. 
 
47 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Thackeray's last visit to the Charterhouse — College days — Pendennis at Cam- 
 bridge — Sketches of University worthies — Sporting subjects — Etchings at 
 Cambridge— Pencillings in old authors — Pictorial Puns — ' The Snob,' a 
 Literary and Scientific Journal — 'Timbuctoo,' a prize poem. 
 
 In Thackeray's schooldays the Charterhouse enjoyed considerable 
 reputation under the head-mastership of Dr. Russell, whose death 
 happened in the same year as that of his illustrious pupil. No 
 one who has read Thackeray's novels can fail to know the kind 
 of life he led here. He has continually described his experi- 
 ences at this celebrated school — with the venerable archway into 
 Charterhouse Square, which still preserves an interesting token 
 of the old monkish character of the neighbourhood. Only a fort- 
 night before his death he was there again, as was his custom, on 
 the anniversary of the death of Thomas Sutton, the munificent 
 founder of the school. ' He was there,' says one who has 
 described the scene, 'in his usual back seat in the quaint old 
 chapel. He went thence to the oration in the Governor's room ; 
 and as he walked up to the orator with his contribution, was 
 received with such hearty applause as only Carthusians can give 
 to one who has immortalised their school. At the banquet after- 
 wards he sat at the side of his old friend and artist-associate in 
 " Punch," John Leech ; and in a humorous speech proposed, as a 
 toast, the noble foundation which he had adorned by his literary 
 fame, and made popular in his works.' ' Divine service,' says 
 another describer of this scene, for ever memorable as the last 
 appearance of Thackeray in public life, ' took place at four 
 o'clock, in the quaint old chapel ; and the appearance of the 
 brethren in their black gowns, of the old stained glass and carving 
 in the chapel, of the tomb of Sutton, could hardly fail to give a 
 peculiar and interesting character to the service. Prayers were 
 
4 8 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 said by the Rev. J. J. Halcombe, the reader of the house. There 
 was only the usual parochial chanting of the Nunc Dimittis ; the 
 familiar Commemoration-day psalms, cxxii. and c, were sung 
 
 First Term 
 
 after the third collect and before the sermon; and before the 
 general thanksgiving the old prayer was offered up expressive 
 of thankfulness to God for the bounty of Thomas Sutton, and of 
 
 Second Term 
 
 hope that all who enjoy it might make a right use of it. The 
 sermon was preached by the Rev. Henry Earle Tweed, late Fellow 
 of Oriel College, Oxford, who prefaced it with the "Bidding 
 Prayer," in which he desired the congregation to pray generally for 
 
COLLEGE DAYS. 
 
 49 
 
 all public schools and colleges, and particularly for the welfare of 
 the house "founded by Thomas Sutton for the support of age 
 and the education of youth." ; 
 
 From Charterhouse School Thackeray went to Trinity College, 
 Cambridge, about 1828, the year of his leaving the Charterhouse, 
 and among his fellow-students there had Mr. John Mitchell 
 Kemble, the great Anglo-Saxon scholar, and Mr. Tennyson. 
 
 •e^p Jta*= 
 
 O crikey, father, there's a jolly great what's-a-name !' 
 
 With the latter — then unknown as a poet — he formed an ac- 
 quaintance which he maintained to the last, and no reader of 
 the Poet Laureate had a more earnest admiration for his produc- 
 tions than his old Cambridge associate, Thackeray. At college, 
 Thackeray kept seven or eight terms, but took no degree ; though 
 he was studious, and his love of classical literature is apparent in 
 most of his writings, either in his occasional apt two words from 
 Horace, or in the quaint and humorous adoption of Latin idioms 
 
5° 
 
 THA CKERA YANA, 
 
 in which, in his sportive moods, he sometimes indulged. A 
 recent writer tells us that his knowledge of the classics — of Horace 
 at least — was amply sufficient to procure him an honourable place 
 in the ' previous examination.' 
 
 To the reader who would gain an insight into Thackeray's 
 doings at Cambridge, we say, ' Glance through the veracious 
 pages in which he records the University career of Mr. Arthur 
 
 A University Tradesman 
 
 Pendennis ; you will there at least seize the spirit of his own 
 college days, if perchance you do not find the facts of the author's 
 own residence circumstantially stated. Take his studies, for ex- 
 ample.' 
 
 Pen's circumstances, tastes, and disposition generally, presum- 
 ing the resemblance to be merely accidental, present a tolerably 
 faithful reflection of those of his biographer at this period. 
 
COLLEGE DAYS. 
 
 5< 
 
 A Mathematical Lecturer 
 
 A Classman 
 
 A Grinder 
 
 A Plodder 
 
 Horsemanship 
 
 University Characters 
 E 2 
 
52 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 The entire narrative occupies but scant space ; and the chro- 
 nicler premises that he shall not describe his hero's academical 
 career very minutely. He is reticent, for he candidly declares 
 that this portion of a man's life does not bear telling without 
 certain reservations. 
 
 Riding, tandem-driving, and four-in-hands enjoyed in those days 
 the patronage more largely transferred by the present generation 
 to boating, cricket, billiards, &c. It was probably at the Univer- 
 
 T^ 
 
 Vingt-et-un 
 
 sity that Thackeray began to take an interest in equestrianism : he 
 made numberless pictures of horses ; indeed, he never hesitated 
 to draw them in every attitude. There is a certain rude fitness and 
 grotesque vigour about the animals which he sketched at the period 
 of life we are describing ; but his skill in this respect certainly ad- 
 vanced with practice, and the horses he had occasion to introduce 
 into his cuts when his fun was at its height — such, for example, as 
 the burlesque illustrations which we find scattered about the in- 
 imitable pages of Mr. Punch — were really very original and 
 spirited ; although perhaps they are barely the steeds which would 
 
COLLEGE DAYS. 
 
 53 
 
 be selected by timid riders, but are rather the tremendous crea- 
 tures which occur to the imagination. 
 
 It is possible that Thackeray's 
 bill to his livery stable keeper 
 kept pace with his other expenses; 
 but his experience in this respect 
 was not fruitless. When he had 
 occasion to mix with the world, 
 and especially while studying 
 society abroad, it embittered his 
 judgment against the University 
 to realise how little return, beyond 
 that indefinite and somewhat 
 bumptious quality known as 
 ' tone/ he had really obtained in return for the expenses of a college 
 career. The youth of the Continent, with whom he had the for- 
 
 ' Well on' 
 
 111 off' 
 
 tune to associate for some time, made him conscious, by their own 
 accomplishments, of those parts of a gentleman's education which 
 are ignored at our Universities, and which form, it must be con- 
 
THACKERAYANA. 
 
COLLEGE DAYS. 
 
 55 
 
 fessed, the standard by which men are chiefly measured beyond 
 the college walls. His early papers in ' Fraser,' and especially those 
 supposed to be contributed by the respectable Fitz- Boodle, draw- 
 ing upon the experiences he had gained while sojourning amidst 
 the society of the minor German principalities, speak the truth on 
 these short-comings in a manner both forcible and unflinching. 
 
 Besides his fancy for etching plates of horses and men of ultra 
 and parodied fashion, for designing plates of the modern rake's 
 
 'Just a little playful' 
 
 progress at the Universities, and punning cuts, we may assume that 
 Thackeray shared with his ideal Pendennis most of those tastes 
 indulged by lucky youths when life is opening, and reflection does 
 not trouble them. Like his hero, he enjoyed a fine amateur percep- 
 tion for rare editions, and had a fancy for the glories of costly 
 bindings: we are told that the tall copies, the gilding, marbling, and 
 blind-tooling put on his book-shelves were marvellous to behold. 
 The same just appreciation of true art which, later on, directed 
 Thackeray's criticisms of the picture galleries, taught Pen to despise 
 
56 
 
 THA CKERA YANA . 
 
 the tawdry and meretricious pictures of horses and opera dancers 
 which often captivate the judgment of fledglings, and gifted him 
 with a love for fine prints, for Rembrandt etchings, line-engravings 
 after Strange, and Wilkie's before the letter ; with which he hung his 
 rooms, to the admiration of those who were capable of understand- 
 ing his good taste. His mind did not despise the allurements 
 of dress; and Pen was elaborately attired. It was a repeated 
 axiom of Thackeray's, that it was good for a youth at one period 
 to indulge in this vanity of fine apparel as a preliminary stage 
 to more developed ambitions of standing well with the world. 
 
 ' Sport in earnest ' 
 
 It will be recollected that eventually Pendennis was plucked ; 
 and a feeling, in some degree morose, and unequivocally in- 
 dignant, seems to have taken possession of Thackeray's mind 
 whenever he dwells on the college careers of the creations of 
 his fancy. In the 'Shabby Genteel Story,' which he first gave 
 to the world in the columns of 'Fraser' (1840), he lashes the 
 system for the defects of the individuals who may have been 
 perverted by its more injurious influences ; nor does he credit the 
 Universities with conferring any solid advantages. He enquires, 
 somewhat vengefully, the amount of ruin that has been inflicted 
 by the temptations to which youths are exposed in such a course of 
 training as is understood in England by ' the education of a gentle- 
 man.' The ' learning to fight for oneself,' he argues, implants 
 an early habit of selfishness. With ' a pretty knack of Latin 
 hexameters, and a decent smattering of Greek plays/ the neophyte 
 
COLLEGE DA VS. 
 
 Occasional Canters from 'Childe Harold's (first and last) Pilgri 
 
 nmage 
 
5S 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 has learned, from his forced attendance at chapel, ' to consider the 
 religious service performed there as the 
 vainest parade in the world.' He has 
 learned to forget the gentle affections of 
 home, and, under certain conditions, to 
 despise his belongings. If naturally en- 
 dowed with an open hand, he has learned 
 to compete with associates infinitely 
 wealthier than himself, to despise money 
 on its own merits perhaps, but to respect it 
 as a means to the questionable advantage 
 of gaining admission to the company of 
 those whose social positions may chance 
 to be a source of envy to weaker minds. 
 In return for the two thousand pounds or 
 so which had been spent in acquiring 'the 
 tone,' he brings George Brandon — who is 
 certainly as black a sheep as any Univer- 
 sity can produce — abruptly away from his 
 college, ruined in heart and principle 1 
 boasting a small quantity of classics and 
 mathematics ; with an utter contempt 
 for his inferiors, an enmity against his 
 equals ; a fulsome desire to be reckoned one of those above him, 
 and to copy the ex- 
 travagances incident 
 to high position ; an 
 easy, confident ad- 
 dress ; sybarite habits, 
 utter heartlessness, 
 and tastes which must 
 be gratified without 
 scruple as to the 
 means : ' pretty com- 
 pensation,' writes the 
 author, 'for all he had 
 lost in gaining them.' 
 His pencil would 
 seem to have been a 
 
 Taking in toe 
 
OVID'S WORKS. 
 
 59 
 
 recreation of Thackeray's college days as well as of his later 
 career. His first efforts in etching on copper were probably pro- 
 duced about the period of which we treat ; the subjects of nearly 
 all of these plates — none of which, we believe, were ever published 
 — were evidently suggested by incidents in the career of an under- 
 graduate. 
 
 The margins and fly-leaves of a copy of Ovid's ' Opera omnia,' 
 one of Black's editions of the Classics (1825), offer various whim- 
 sical illustrations of certain portions of the poems ; we incline to 
 the impression, however, that although some of these parodies 
 may be referred to Thackeray's college days, to others must be 
 assigned a considerably later date. 
 
 P. Ovidii Nasonis Opera omnia. 
 
 P. Ovidii Nasonis 
 
 ' Remediorum Amoris,' ' Medicaminum Faciei,' et ' Halieutici 
 Fragmenta.' 
 
6o 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 Epigramma Nasonis in Amores suos. 
 
 Qui modo Nasonis fueramus quinque libelli, 
 Tres sumus : hoc illi prsetulit auctor opus, 
 
 Ut iam nulla tibi nos sit legisse voluptas : 
 At levior demtis poena duobus erit. 
 
 Artis AMATORLE. (Lib. II.) 
 
 Ecce ! rogant tenerse, sibidem prsecepta, puellae. 
 Vos eritis chartse proxima cura meae. 
 
OVID'S WORKS. 
 
 Remedia Amoris. 
 
 Hoc opus exegi : fessse date serta carinse 
 Contigimus portum, quo mihi cursus erat. 
 
 Postmodo reddetis sacro pia vota poete, 
 Carmine sanati femina virque meo. 
 
 Death mowing down the Loves 
 
62 THA CKERA VAN A. 
 
 Another amusement at this period was the designing of picto- 
 rial puns, after the manner introduced by Cruikshank, which was 
 so successfully practised 
 by Aiken, Seymour, and 
 Tom Hood. 
 
 Indian Ink 
 
 Among the sketches 
 by the hand of the no- 
 velist, which we attribute 
 to these earlier days, are 
 a number of humorous Chalk 
 
 designs, many of them equal to the most grotesque efforts of the 
 well-known artists we have mentioned. 
 
PICTORIAL PUNS. 
 
 63 
 
 LEGAL DEFINITIONS. 
 
 BY A GENTLEMAN WHO MAY BE CALLED TO THE BAR. 
 
 Fee Simple 
 
 On freeholds — A general clause 
 
64 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 A declaration 
 
 A reioinder 
 
PICTORIAL PUNS. 
 
 65 
 
 Possession. — With remarks on assault and battery 
 
66 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 The earliest of Thackeray's literary efforts are associated with 
 Cambridge. It was in the year 1829 that he commenced, in con- 
 junction with a friend and fellow-student, to edit a series of 
 
 humorous papers, published in 
 that city, which bore the title of 
 ' The Snob : a Literary and Scien- 
 tific Journal/ The first num- 
 ber appeared on April 9 in that 
 year, and the publication was con- 
 tinued weekly. Though affect- 
 ing to be a periodical, it was not 
 originally intended to publish 
 more than one number ; but the 
 project was carried on for eleven 
 weeks, in which period Mr. Lett- 
 som had resigned the entire 
 Fives management to his friend. The 
 
 contents of each number— which consisted only of four pages 
 — were scanty and slight, and were made up of squibs and 
 
 Beauty is but skin deep 
 
 humorous sketches in verse and prose, many of which, however, 
 show some germs of that spirit of wild fun which afterwards dis- 
 
RECREATIONS AT THE UNIVERSITY. 
 
 67 
 
 tinguished the ' Yellowplush Papers ' in ' Fraser.' A specimen of 
 the contents of this curious publication cannot but be interesting 
 
 Prisoners' base 
 
 to the reader. The parody we have selected, a clever skit upon 
 the ' Cambridge Prize Poem/ appeared as follows : — 
 
 Timbuctoo. 
 
 To the Editor of ' The Snob: 
 
 Sir, — Though your name be ' Snob,' I trust you will not refuse 
 this tiny ' Poem of a Gownsman,' which was unluckily not finished 
 on the day appointed for delivery of the several copies of verses 
 on Timbuctoo. I thought, Sir, it would be a pity that such a 
 poem should be lost to the world ; and conceiving ' The Snob ' to 
 be the most widely-circulated periodical in Europe, I have taken 
 the liberty of submitting it for insertion or approbation. 
 
 I am, Sir, yours, &c. &c. &c. 
 
 TIMBUCTOO. — PART I. 
 
 The situation. 
 In Africa (a quarter of the world) 
 Men's skins are black, their hair is crisp and curl'd, 
 
 Lines I and 2. — See 'Guthrie's Geography.' 
 
 The site of Timbuctoo is doubtful ; the Author has neatly expressed this 
 in the poem, at the same time giving us some slight hints relative to its situa- 
 tion. 
 
68 THA CKERA YA NA. 
 
 And somewhere there, unknown to public view, 
 A mighty city lies, called Timbuctoo. 
 
 Bambooz-ling 
 
 The natural history. 
 
 There stalks the tiger, — there the lion roars, 
 Who sometimes eats the luckless blackamoors ; 
 All that he leaves of them the monster throws 
 To jackals, vultures, dogs, cats, kites, and crows ; 
 His hunger thus the forest monarch gluts, 
 And then lies down 'neath trees called cocoa nuts 
 
 ID 
 
 Line 5. — So Horace : ' leonum arida nutrix.' 
 Line 8. — Thus Apollo : 
 
 kKupia TeC%e Kvvecraiv 
 Ol&vouri T6 iraai. 
 
 Lines 5-10. — How skilfully introduced are the animal and vegetable pro- 
 ductions of Africa ! It is worthy to remark the various garments in which the 
 Poet hath clothed the lion. He is called, 1st, the ' Lion ; ' 2nd, the ' Monster ' 
 
 (for he is very large) 
 he is. 
 
 and 3rd, the 'Forest Monarch,' which undoubtedly 
 
'THE SNOB' MAGAZINE. 69 
 
 The lion hunt. 
 
 Quick issue out, with musket, torch, and brand, 
 The sturdy blackamoors, a dusky band ! 
 The beast is found — pop goes the musketoons — 
 The lion falls covered with horrid wounds. 
 
 Their lives at home. 
 
 At home their lives in pleasure always flow, 15 
 
 But many have a different lot to know ! 
 
 Abroad. 
 They're often caught, and sold as slaves, alas ! 
 
 Reflections on the foregoing. 
 
 Thus men from highest joys to sorrow pass. 
 
 Yet though thy monarchs and thy nobles boil 
 
 Rack and molasses in Jamaica's isle ; 20 
 
 Desolate Afric ! thou art lovely yet ! ! 
 
 One heart yet beats which ne'er thee shall forget. 
 
 Lines n-14. — The author confesses himself under peculiar obligations to 
 Denham's and Clapperton's Travels, as they suggested to him the spirited 
 description contained in these lines. 
 
 Line 13. — ' Pop goes the musketoons.' A learned friend suggested 'Bang' 
 as a stronger expression, but as African gunpowder is notoriously bad, the 
 author thought ' Pop ' the better word. 
 
 Lines 15-18. — A concise but affecting description is here given of the 
 domestic habits of the people. The infamous manner in which they are 
 entrapped and sold as slaves is described, and the whole ends with an appro- 
 priate moral sentiment. The Poem might here finish, but the spirit of the 
 bard penetrates the veil of futurity, and from it cuts off a bright piece for the 
 hitherto unfortunate Africans, as the following beautiful lines amply ex- 
 emplify. 
 
 It may perhaps be remarked that the Author has here 'changed his hand.' 
 He answers that it was his intention to do so. Before, it was his endeavour 
 to be elegant and concise, it is now his wish to be enthusiastic and magni- 
 ficent. He trusts the Reader will perceive the aptness with which he has 
 changed his style ; when he narrated facts he was calm, when he enters on 
 prophecy he is fervid. 
 
jo THA CKERA YA NA . 
 
 What though thy maidens are a blackish brown, 
 
 Does virtue dwell in whiter breasts alone ? 
 
 Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no ! 25 
 
 It shall not, must not, cannot e'er be so. 
 
 The day shall come when Albion's self shall feel 
 
 Stern Afric's wrath, and writhe 'neath Afric's steel. 
 
 I see her tribes the hill of glory mount, 
 
 And sell their sugars on their own account ; 30 
 
 While round her throne the prostrate nations come, 
 
 Sue for her rice, and barter for her rum ! 32 
 
 The burlesque prize poem concludes with a little vignette in 
 the 'Titmarsh' manner, representing an Indian smoking a pipe, 
 of the type once commonly seen in the shape of a small carved 
 image at the doors of tobacconists' shops. 
 
 The enthusiasm which he feels is beautifully expressed in lines 25 and 26. 
 He thinks he has very successfully imitated in the last six lines the best manner 
 of Mr. Pope; and in lines 12-26, the pathetic elegance of the author of 
 * Australasia and Athens.' 
 
 The Author cannot conclude without declaring that his aim in writing this 
 Poem will be fully accomplished if he can infuse into the breasts of English- 
 men a sense of the danger in which they lie. Yes — Africa ! If he can awaken 
 one particle of sympathy for thy sorrows, of love for thy land, of admiration for 
 thy virtue, he shall sink into the grave with the proud consciousness that he 
 has raised esteem, where before there was contempt, and has kindled the flame 
 of hope on the mouldering ashes of despair ! 
 
7i 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Early Favourites— Fielding's 'Joseph Andrews ' — Imitators of Fielding — 'The 
 Adventures of Captain Greenland' — 'Jack Connor' — 'Chrysal, or the Ad- 
 ventures of a Guinea. ' 
 
 Thackeray's references to his favourite novels, and his liking, 
 which assumed a sort of personal regard, for the authors who 
 had given him pleasure, especially in youth, occur constantly 
 throughout his writings, both early and late. 
 
 He has told us how in the boyish days spent in the Charter- 
 house he began to cultivate an acquaintance with the sterling 
 
 Blind man's buff 
 
 English humorists whose works had a deeply-marked influence 
 on his own literary training. ' Peregrine Pickle ' was familiar to 
 him at Greyfriars ; later on, Fielding's masterpieces came into his 
 possession. The buoyant spirit, vigorous nature, and absence of 
 affectation which are peculiarly the property of that great novelist, 
 must have highly delighted the budding author. Not only did 
 Thackeray treasure up 'Tom Jones' and ' Joseph Andrews,' but 
 
72 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 by some means he managed to get possession of various novels 
 now completely obsolete, the productions of less brilliant contem- 
 poraries of Fielding, who were tempted by the success of his 
 frankly penned novels to attempt to reach a similar success by 
 walking servilely in the footsteps of the inaugurator of what may 
 be considered the natural order of English novel writing. 
 
 Bambooz-ling 
 
 Of ' Joseph Andrews ' he has registered his belief that novel- 
 readers should like this work best, and it is stated by Dr. Warton 
 that Fielding gave the preference to this early history above his 
 other writings. The hero, though but dressed in Lady Booby's 
 cast-off livery, Thackeray declares to be as polite as Tom Jones 
 in his fustian, or Captain Booth in his regimentals. c Joseph,' in 
 his opinion, ' shares the elements of success with those worthies : ' 
 he has large calves, broad shoulders, high courage, and a handsome 
 face ; qualities apparently deemed by the novelist sure passes to 
 
EARLY FAVOURITES. 
 
 73 
 
 popularity, and sufficiently certain to win the hearts of the impres- 
 sionable. 
 
 In the confidentially chatty Roundabout Essays we are favoured 
 with frequent introductions to the favourites of their author : no 
 opportunity is lost of making the reader acquainted with his friends. 
 Let us now turn to one of them— introducing Thackeray's graphic 
 illustrations. 
 
 Pitch and toss 
 
74 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF < JOSEPH ANDREWS.' 
 
 The edition (1742) of 
 Fielding's earliest novel 
 which formed a portion 
 of Mr. Titmarsh's libra- 
 ry has been enriched by 
 certain characteristic il- 
 lustrations of the drollest 
 incidents. 
 
 But few of Thack- 
 eray's readers can fail 
 to remember his sincere 
 appreciation of the works 
 of his brilliant predeces- 
 sor, Justice Fielding, the 
 founder of that unaffect- 
 ed school of novel-writ- 
 ing which has since been 
 rendered illustrious by many masterpieces of genius. 
 
 It is singularly appropriate that ' Joseph Andrews ' happens to 
 form one of the series distinguished with Thackeray's pencillings, 
 as no one acquainted with his writings can fail to recall his ten- 
 derly affectionate allusions to the author of ' Tom Jones.' 
 
 On the fly-leaf of ' Joseph Andrews ' occurs the group of Lady 
 Booby tempting the Joseph of the Georgian era, which is engraved 
 above : the cut gives, without effort, a key to the wittiest of sly 
 satires ; for we cannot easily forget that merry mischievous 
 Fielding projected this work as a ludicrous contrast to the exem- 
 plary ' Pamela,' whose literary success brought its well-meaning 
 prosy author so much fame, profit, and flattery. The wicked 
 irony of Fielding was peculiarly shocking to sensitive Richardson ; 
 and it is certain that the persecuted Pamela appears shorn of 
 much of her dignity when associated with the undignified tempta- 
 tions suffered by her unexceptionable brother ' Joseph.' 
 
JOSEPH ANDREWS. 
 
 75 
 
 The substance of this novel is so generally familiar that the 
 merest reference will refresh the memories of our readers so 
 far as the incidents illustrated by these slight pencillings are 
 concerned. 
 
 Parson Adams, it may be remembered, endeavoured to raise a 
 loan on a volume of manuscript sermons to assist Joseph An- 
 drews, when Tow-mouse (the landlord), who 
 mistrusted the security, offered excuses. 
 
 Poor Adams was extremely dejected at 
 this disappointment. He immediately ap- 
 plied to his pipe, his constant friend and 
 comfort in his afflictions ; and leaning over 
 the rails, he devoted himself to meditation, 
 assisted by the inspiring fumes of tobacco. 
 
 He had on a night-cap drawn over his 
 wig, and a short great coat, which half covered 
 his cassock ; a dress which, added to some- 
 thing comical enough in his countenance, composed a figure 
 likely to attract the eyes of those who were not over-given to 
 observation. 
 
 Joseph Andrews and Parson Adams arrived at the inn in no 
 cheery plight, the hero's leg having been injured by a propensity 
 for performing unexpected genuflections, the pride of a horse bor- 
 rowed by the parson for the occasion. The host, a surly fellow, 
 treated the damaged Joseph with roughness, and Parson Adams 
 briskly resented the landlord's brutality by ' sending him sprawling ' 
 
 on his own floor. His wife retaliated by seizing a pan of hog's- 
 blood, which unluckily stood on the dresser, and discharging its 
 contents in the good parson's face. Mrs. Slipshod entered the 
 kitchen at this critical moment, and attacked the hostess with. 
 
7 6 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 a skill developed by practice, tearing her cap, uprooting handfuls 
 of hair, and delivering a succession of dexterous facers. 
 
 Parson Adams, when he required a trifling loan, ventured to 
 wait on the swinish Parson Trulliber, whose wife introduced 
 Adams in error, as ' a man come for some of his hogs.' Trulliber 
 asserted that his animals were all pure fat, and upwards of twenty 
 score apiece ; he then dragged the parson into his stye, which 
 
 was but two steps from his parlour-window, insisting that he 
 should examine them before he would speak one word with him 
 Adams, whose natural complacence was beyond any artifice, was 
 obliged to comply before he was suffered to explain 
 himself, and laying hold of one of their tails, the 
 wanton beast gave such a sudden spring that he 
 threw poor Adams full length in the mire. Trulliber, 
 instead of assisting him to get up, burst into laughter, 
 and, entering the stye, said to Adams, with some 
 contempt, ' Why, dost not know how to handle a 
 hog?' 
 
 To those writers whose heroes are of their own 
 creation, and whose brains are the chaos whence all 
 their materials are collected— one may apply the 
 saying of Balzac regarding Aristotle, that they are 
 a second nature, for they have no communica- 
 tion with the first, by which authors of an in- 
 ferior class, who cannot stand alone, are obliged to support them- 
 selves as with crutches ; but these of whom I am now speaking 
 
JOSEPH ANDREWS. 77 
 
 seem to be possessed of those stilts which the excellent Voltaire 
 tells us, in his letters, carry the genius far off, but with an irregular 
 pace. Indeed, far out of the sight of the reader — 
 
 Beyond the realm of chaos and old night. 
 
 The pedlar, introduced in these adventures, while relating to 
 Joseph Andrews and Parson Adams the early history of Fanny 
 (then returned from Lady Booby's), proceeded thus : ' Though I 
 
 am now contented with this humble way of getting my livelihood, 
 I was formerly a gentleman ; for so all those of my profession are 
 called. In a word, I was drummer in an Irish regiment of foot. 
 Whilst I was in this honourable station, I attended an officer of our 
 regiment into England, a recruiting.' The pedlar then described 
 meeting a gipsy-woman, who confided to him, on her death-bed, 
 that she had kidnapped a beautiful female infant from a family 
 named Andrews, and sold her to Squire Booby for three guineas. 
 In Fanny he professed to recognise the stolen infant. 
 
THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN GREENLAND.' 
 
 'The Adventures of Cap- 
 tain Greenland,' an ano- 
 nymous novel publish- 
 ed in 1752, is avow- 
 edly' written in imitation 
 of all those wise, learned, 
 witty, and humorous 
 authors who either have 
 or hereafter may write 
 in the same style and 
 manner.' 
 
 The story, divided 
 over a tedious number 
 of books — like the high- 
 flown romances of the 
 ' Grand Cyrus ' order — 
 also resembles those antiquated and unreal elaborations in the 
 astonishing intrepidity of its professed hero, Sylvius, who, however, 
 engages, like his model ' Joseph Andrews,' in situations generally 
 described as menial. Captain Greenland himself, denuded of his 
 powerful swearing propensities, might be regarded at this date as 
 an interesting curiosity, a British commander of the true-blue 
 salt type. A parson, and other characters suggestive of the ac- 
 quaintances we make in ' Joseph Andrews,' contribute to swell 
 the < dramatis personae.' A portion of the adventures, which are 
 neither new nor startling, consists of escapes from Spanish con- 
 vents, and complications connected with the Romanist faith, not 
 unlike somewhat kindred allusions in Richardson's ' Sir Charles 
 Grandison.' 
 
 A stage-coach journey occupies ten chapters of one book ; and 
 the travellers relieve this lengthy travel (from Worcester to Lon- 
 don) by unfinished anecdotes. Captain Greenland relates an 
 adventure with a highwayman who once stopped his coach. The 
 
CAPTAIN GREENLAND. 
 
 79 
 
 < gentleman of the road ' bade the driver 'unrein.' The captain 
 seized his blunderbuss and 'jumped ashore/ thinking it a scandal 
 that a gentleman who had the honour of commanding one of His 
 Majesty's ships of war should suffer himself to be boarded and 
 plundered by a single fellow. Being a little warm and hasty, he 
 salutes his enemy with, ' " Blank my heart, but you are a blank 
 cowardly rascal, and a blank mean-spirited villain ! You scoun- 
 drel, you ! you lurk about the course here to plunder every poor 
 creature you meet, that have nothing at all to defend themselves ; 
 but you dare not engage with one that is able to encounter with 
 you. Here, you rascal ! if you dare fight for it, win it and wear 
 it." With that I pulled out my purse and money, and flung it to 
 
 the ground between us ; but the faint-hearted blank durst as well 
 be blank'd as come near me. So after I had swore myself pretty 
 well out .of wind (judging from the captain's ordinary vernacular, 
 the strongest lungs could not have held out long), I ran towards 
 him with my cock'd blunderbuss ready in my hand ; but he 
 at that very moment tacked about, and sheer'd off. I now 
 picked up my purse, and went aboard the coach ; but, blank my 
 heart ! I can't forgive myself for not saluting the rascal with one 
 broadside.' 
 
 At the conclusion of ten chapters of stage-coach journeying, 
 the author brilliantly observes, ' He has cooped up his readers for 
 a considerable time,' and the captain swears the coach is somewhat 
 I over-manned.' 
 
 'At night they were all exceedingly merry and agreeable ; 
 and the generous captain again insisted upon paying the bill him- 
 self, which he found no matter of fault with, but in the customary 
 
8o 
 
 T HACK ERA YANA. 
 
 article (at that place) of sixpence a head for firing ; which he 
 swore was as much as could have been demanded if they had 
 supp'd at an inn in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.' 
 
 — -V-C. es- 
 
 The next day's journey being happily concluded, without any 
 extraordinary occurrences, they arrived about six o'clock in the 
 afternoon at the ' Blue Boar Inn, in Holborn, where they all 
 agreed to sup together, and to lie that night.' 
 
 Rosetta the heroine, and her brother, Sir Christopher, attended 
 by the faithful Sylvius as steward, embark at Portsmouth for 
 
JACK CONNOR. • 81 
 
 Lisbon. After some thirty hours' sea-sickness, Rosetta resumed 
 her usual cheerfulness by making merry over her late incapacity. 
 * Sylvius was yet as bad as any of them. The knight (her brother) 
 was also in the same helpless condition, and continued in the 
 same manner till he was eased of the lofty tosses which were so 
 plentifully bestowed on them by the restless Biscaian Bay.' They 
 all recover at last, and are diverted by the shoals of wanton por- 
 poises. ' By and by their remarks turned on their " little bark's 
 climbing so wonderfully over the vast ridges of the mountainous 
 waves, which formed perpetual and amazing prospects of over- 
 rolling hills and vales, as could scarcely meet belief from those 
 who had never been at sea." ' 
 
 'JACK CONNOR.' 
 
 ' Jack Connor ' is another instance of the novels written by 
 imitators of Fielding. Aiming to produce an unaffected and easy 
 style of fiction, enlivened by incidents of every-day interest, it falls 
 far short of the standard to which it aspires, as one would reason- 
 ably suppose. The book is anonymous, and is dedicated to 
 Henry Fox, ' Secretary at War,' and was published in 1752 ; it is 
 founded on a rambling plot, detailing the adventures of a 'waif 
 thrown on the world by his Irish parents. The first volume is 
 mostly occupied by youthful ' amours,' and ends with the ' Story 
 Of Polly Gunn,' which unfortunately bears a certain resemblance 
 to De Foe's ' Moll Flanders,' in a condensed form. 
 
 ' Jack Connor ' had a patron, a marvellously proper man, 
 the ' model of righteous walking,' and the dispenser of admirable 
 precepts, over which the hero grew eminently sentimental ; but 
 directly after acted in direct opposition to the teaching of this 
 worthy guardian. The pencilling we have selected from the 
 margin of vol. i. illustrates a passage describing the scandals of 
 the kitchen, which affixed to Jack Connor's benefactor, Mr. Kindly, 
 the questionable honour of being father to his protege. 
 
 ' I hope,' said Tittle, ' your la'ship won't be angry with me, 
 only they say that the boy is as like Mr. Kindly as two peas ; but 
 they say, " Mem " ' 
 
82 
 
 THA CKERA VAN A. 
 
 ' Hold your impertinent tongue,' said my lady ; ' is this the 
 occasion of so much giggle ? You are an ungrateful pack. I 
 
 am sure 'tis false,' &c. 
 
 < Indeed,' said Tittle, ' if 
 I've said anything to offend 
 
 your la'ship ' 
 
 'Yes, madam,' said my 
 lady, 'you have greatly of- 
 fended me ; and so you all 
 have,' &c. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Tittle was not 
 only vastly disappointed, but 
 greatly frightened. She in- 
 formed the rest of the recep- 
 tion she had met with. The 
 servants were quite surprised 
 at the oddity of her ladyship's 
 temper, and quoted many examples diametrically opposite. 
 
 < I'm sure,' said Mrs. Tittle, ' had I told as much to Squire 
 Smart's lady, we should have laughed together about it the live- 
 long night ! ' 
 
 'Ay, ay,' said Mrs. Matthews, 'God bless the good Lady 
 Malign ! When I waited on her in Yorkshire, many a gown, and 
 petticoat, and smock have I gotten for telling her half so much ; 
 but, to be sure, some people think themselves wiser than all the 
 world ! ' 
 
 ' Hold, hold/ said Tom Blunt, the butler. ' Now, d'ye see, if 
 so be as how my lady is wrong, she'll do you right ; and if so be 
 as how my lady is right, how like fools and ninnihammers will 
 you all look ! ' 
 
 In vol. ii. we find Jack Connor resorting to the reputable pro- 
 fession of ' gentleman of the road ; ' he plans his first ' stand-and- 
 deliver ' venture in company with two experienced highwaymen. 
 Hounslow is the popular spot selected for his debut. Thither he 
 proceeds in a post-chaise from Piccadilly, having arranged for his 
 horse in advance. Two circumstances favour him ; he knows a 
 family in the neighbourhood, and he wears a surtout of a cloth 
 that is blue on one side and red on the other, and that has no other 
 lining. In a blue coat with scarlet cuffs he orders wine, arranges for 
 
JACK CONNOR. 
 
 83 
 
 a return post-chaise, and enquires the address of the people whose 
 name he knows. He then departs, secures his horse, and turns 
 his coat; he is behind-hand, 
 and the coach just then 
 coming up, the two high- 
 waymen lead the attack : 
 one is shot, and the other 
 disabled and captured. 
 Connor escapes in the con- 
 fusion, ties up his horse, 
 turns his coat, and walks 
 back to the inn for his post-chaise, which is delayed, one horse 
 being wanting. The landlord enters. ' There, now,' said he, ' is 
 two fine gentlemen that have made a noble kettle of fish of it this 
 morning ! ' 
 
 ' Bless me, my dear,' said his wife, ' what's the matter ? ' 
 ' Not much ; only a coach was stopped on the heath by 
 three highwaymen, and two of 'em is now taken, and at the next 
 inn.' 
 
 ' Dear sirs,' said the landlady, ' 'tis the most preposteroustest 
 thing in life that gentlefolks won't travel in post-chaises ; and then 
 they're always safe from these fellows.' 
 
 ' Well,' said the husband, ' I must send after the third, who 
 escaped ; I'll engage to find out his scarlet coat before night.' 
 
 Connor, recollecting his situation, chimed in with the hostess, 
 and spoke greatly against the disturbers of the public. At last he 
 took leave, mounted his chaise, and got safe to London; but 
 often thought the horses very bad. 
 
 Jack Connor, after various vicissitudes, was at last reduced to 
 service, and was employed as secretary 
 by Sir John Curious, an infirm compound 
 of wealth and avarice, married, in his last 
 days, to a young wife. Connor became 
 unpopular with the ladies of the estab- 
 lishment, on account of his over-correct 
 behaviour. One day he was busy read- 
 ing to Sir John, when Mr. Sampson, a wine merchant, entered. 
 The knight had a great regard for this gentleman, and was ex- 
 tremely civil to him. ' Well, friend Sampson,' said he, ' time was 
 
84 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 when we used to meet oftener ; but this plaguy gout makes me 
 perform a tedious quarantine, you see.' 
 
 ' Ah, Sir John/ replied Mr. Sampson, 'you are at anchor in a 
 safe harbour ; but I have all your ailments, and am buffeted about 
 in stormy winds.' 
 
 ' Not so, not so,' answered the knight ; ' I hope my old friend 
 is in no danger of shipwreck. No misfortunes, I hope.' 
 
 ' None,' said Mr. Sampson, ' but what my temper can bear. I 
 have lost my only child, just such a youth as that (pointing to 
 Jack). I have lost the best part of my substance by the war, and 
 I have found old age and infirmities.' • 
 
 Sir John regretted that he could not assist his friend with a 
 loan, but he paid his account for wine, and handed over Connor 
 to assist Mr. Sampson in his business. 
 
 After a long letter on the state of Ireland— which appeared even 
 in 1744 a question beyond the wisdom of legislation to dispose of 
 
 satisfactorily — the author apologises for his digressions with con- 
 siderable novelty. ' I am afraid I have carried my reader too far 
 from the subject-matter of this history, and tried his patience : 
 but I assure him that my indulgence has been very great, for, 
 at infinite pains, I have curtailed the last chapter (the Irish ques- 
 tion) at least sixty pages. Few know the difficulty of bridling the 
 imagination, and reining back a hard-mouthed pen. It sometimes 
 gets ahead, and, in spite of all our skill, runs away with us into 
 mire and dirt ; nay, at this minute I find my quill in a humour to 
 gallop, so shall stop him short in time.' 
 
 The life of Connor is chequered. He finally figures as a cap- 
 tain of dragoons in the campaign in Flanders, under the ' Cullo- 
 den ' Duke. He performs deeds of valour with the army, and 
 rescues a Captain Thornton from three assailants, preserves his life 
 and secures his gratitude. He next appears at Cadiz, on a commer- 
 cial errand, and he regains his long-lost mother in Mrs. Magraph, a 
 
CHRYSAL. 
 
 Z5 
 
 that resignation she 
 
 wealthy widow, to whom he had made love. This lady, who had 
 saved thirty thousand pounds, was very communicative; she finally 
 recognised him as her son, and acquainted him that Sir Roger Thorn- 
 ton, the life of whose son he had preserved, was in reality his father, 
 and not Connor, as he had previously believed. The hero then set 
 out for Paris. The ship was ready to sail. All were concerned at 
 losing so polite a companion, and he was loaded with praises and 
 caresses. His mother could not bear it with 
 at first thought ; but, how- 
 ever, she raised her spirits, 
 and with many blessings 
 saw him set sail. 
 
 The voyage was pros- 
 perous, and he arrived at 
 
 Marseilles, safe and in good ^*^*^y^r \^ ife^ ^ 
 
 health. He took post for 
 Paris, and embraced his dear 
 friend Captain Thornton, as 
 indicated in the marginal 
 illustration. Jack Connor marries a lord's daughter, and becomes 
 an Irish landed gentleman. The author concludes with the regret 
 that he has not the materials to reveal his hero's future. 
 
 < CHRYSAL, OR THE ADVENTURES OF A GUINEA/ 
 
 We gather from the copy of this work, 
 which was formerly on the shelves of 
 Thackeray's library, that 'Chrysal ; had 
 reached seven editions in 1771, having 
 been originally published in 1760, 
 with a highly laudatory dedication to 
 William Pitt. 
 
 The bookseller's prefix to the first 
 edition is slightly imaginative. To de- 
 scribe its nature briefly, the publisher, 
 while taking a country stroll in White- 
 chapel, then an Arcadian village, was 
 overtaken by a shower, and sought shelter in a cottage where a 
 
86 
 
 THA CKERA YA NA. 
 
 humble family were breakfasting. His eye was caught by a sheet 
 of manuscript which had done duty for a butter-plate. Its contents 
 interested him, and he learnt that the chandler next door wrapped 
 up her commodities in such materials. He made an experimental 
 purchase, which was done up in another leaf of 
 the paper. Cautious enquiries elicited that 
 brown paper being costly, and a quantity of old 
 ' stuff' having been left by a long deceased 
 lodger of her departed mother's, the manuscript 
 was thus turned into use. The enterprising 
 publisher invested is. 6d. for brown paper, and 
 secured the entire remaining sheets in exchange. 
 Finding, on perusal, that he had secured matter 
 of some literary value, he pursued his investi- 
 gations with the same lady, and learned that the author was an 
 unfortunate schemer, who, after wasting his entire fortune in seeking 
 the philosopher's stone, perceived his folly too late, wrote the story 
 of ' Chrysal ' in ridicule of the fallacy of golden visions, and ex- 
 pired before he could realise any profit by the publication of his 
 papers. The bookseller secretly resolved to admit the good 
 woman to a half share of the profits of her ' heirship,' and ' Chrysal ' 
 appeared. It excited some attention, and had various charges 
 laid to its account. 
 
 The scheme is ingenious, tracing the guinea from its projection, 
 and giving an account of the successive stages of its changing 
 existence. We are admitted to contemplate 
 the influence of gold in various situations ; 
 with dissertations on ' traffic,' and, in short, 
 follow the history of a guinea through the 
 of numerous owners, male and 
 female, while the reader is by these means introduced to 
 some very curious situations. 
 
 The little design in the margin occurs in the history 
 of a horned cock, a parody on collectors of curiosities, 
 describing the manner in which a noble ' virtuoso ' was 
 imposed upon by a cunning vendor of wonderful produc- 
 tions. There was considerable competition to secure the 
 composite phenomenon, and when his lordship obtained it, a con- 
 vocation of ' savants ' was summoned to report on the marvel. The 
 
 possession 
 
CHRYSAL. S7 
 
 bird, a game-cock, had unfortunately taken offence at an owl in 
 a neighbouring cage, and when the company arrived it had rubbed 
 off one of the horns and disturbed the other. While arguing that 
 the bird had shed its horn in the course of nature, one of the com- 
 pany dropped some snuff near the bird's eye, who thereupon shook 
 his head with sufficient violence to dislodge the remaining 
 horn; exposing the imposture, and overwhelming the virtuoso 
 with such vexation that the cock was sacrificed to ^Esculapius 
 forthwith. 
 
 The guinea gets into the hands of a justice of the peace, in 
 the shape of a bribe, and a very remarkable state of corruption 
 and traffic in iniquity is displayed. The little pencilling of a 
 quaint figure holding the scales occurs on the margin of a para- 
 graph which records a warm dispute 
 between the justice and his clerk on 
 the proportioning of their plunder, the 
 clerk revolting against an arrangement 
 by which it is proposed to confine him 
 co a bare third ! The dispute is checked 
 by the arrival of some customers, matrons 
 dwelling within the justice's district, who come to compound with 
 him in regular form ' for the breach of those laws he is appointed 
 to support/ 
 
 The sketches pencilled in ' Chrysal ' do not follow the story 
 very closely ; indeed, they can hardly be intimately associated 
 with the text they accompany. This, however, is quite an excep- 
 tional case ; the drawings found in Mr. Thackeray's books being, 
 in nearly every instance, very felicitous embodiments of the 
 subject-matter of the works they illustrate. 
 
 On a fly-leaf of ' Chrysal ' is a jovial sketch of light-hearted 
 and nimble-toed tars, forming a realistic picture of the good 
 cheer a guinea may command, and immediately suggestive of 
 bags of prize-money, apoplectically stored with the yellow boys 
 which, in the good old days, were supposed to profusely line the 
 pockets of true salts when they indulged in the delights of a 
 spell on shore : this was the time when sailors experimented in frying, 
 as the story represents them, superfluous watches in bacon-fat, as a 
 scientific relaxation, when the ships were paid off at Portsmouth, 
 
and ' jolly tars ' had invested in more timekeepers than the exi- 
 gencies of punctuality strictly demanded. 
 
8 9 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Continental Ramble — A Stolen Trip to Paris — Residence at Weimar — 
 Contributions to Albums — Burlesque State — German Sketches and Studies 
 — The Weimar Theatre — Goethe — Souvenirs of the Saxon city — 'Journal 
 kept during a visit to Germany.' 
 
 We cannot take leave of Thackeray's college days without 
 referring to the first trip he made to Paris during a vacation, on 
 his own responsibility, and, indeed, without consulting his pastors 
 and masters on the subject. This little episode occurred when 
 
 Coachee, 1830 
 
 he was nineteen years old; and, excepting for considerable re- 
 morse at the, subterfuge by which he had got away, he seems 
 to have enjoyed himself very much. 
 
9Q 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 1828 
 
 A dowager 
 
 A postilion 
 
 A German court chaplain. 
 
WEIMAR SKETCHES. 
 
 91 
 
 $jY\fh 
 
 wmm 
 
92 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 -! — V 
 
 T 
 
 m — % ^> w — s)-^ 
 
 Ik 04 
 
 Hu 
 
 &* 
 
 %>UL. - (Uj WfUal 
 
 Soon afterwards Thackeray seems to have repaired to Weimar, 
 in Saxony, where, as he describes it, he lived with a score of 
 
 Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cigno. 
 (Album oddities. Weimar, 1830) 
 
 Weimar, 1830 
 
 young English lads, ' for study, or sport, or society.' Mr. G. H. 
 Lewes, in his ' Life of Goethe,' tells us that Weimar albums still 
 
WEIMAR SKETCHES 
 
 93 
 
94 
 
 TH ACKER A YANA. 
 
 display with pride the caricatures which the young artist sketched 
 at that period. ' My delight in those days,' says Mr. Thackeray, 
 
 Schiller's plays. Weimar, 1830 
 
 ' was to make caricatures for children ' — a habit, we may add, 
 which he never forgot. Years afterwards, in the fulness of his fame, 
 
WEIMAR. 
 
 95 
 
 revisiting Weimar, he found, to his great delight, that these were 
 yet remembered, and some even preserved still ; but he was much 
 more proud to be told, as a lad, that the great Goethe himself 
 
 Church militant 
 
 had looked at some of them. In a letter to his friend Mr. Lewes, 
 inserted by the latter in the work referred to, Thackeray has given 
 
 Triumphal march of the British forces 
 
 a pleasing picture of this period of his life, and of the circle in 
 which he found himself. 
 
9 6 
 
 THA CKERA VAN A. 
 
 Readers familiar with the ' Rose and the Ring, 5 Thackeray's 
 popular Christmas book, will recognise in the sketch on page 93 
 the artist's fondness for playing with royalty— especially with 
 pantomimic royalty. The Weimar court was full of old ceremony, 
 and yet most pleasant and homely withal. Thackeray and his 
 
 Opera at Weimar 
 
 friends were invited in turns to dinners, balls, and assemblies there. 
 Such young men as had a right appeared in uniforms, diplomatic 
 and military. Some invented gorgeous clothing : the old Hof 
 Marschall, M. de Spiegel, who had two of the most lovely daughters • 
 ever looked on, being in nowise difficult as to the admission of 
 
WEIMAR SKETCHES. 
 
 97 
 
 these young Englanders. On winter nights they used to charter 
 sedan chairs, in which they were carried through the snow to these 
 court entertainments. Here young Thackeray had the good luck 
 to purchase Schiller's sword, which formed a part of his court 
 costume, and which hung in 
 his study till the day of his 
 death, to put him (as he said) 
 in mind of days of youth the 
 imost kindly and delightful. 
 
 Shakspeare at Weimar 
 
 Operatic reminiscences at Weimar 
 
 Here, too, he had the advantage of the society of his friend 
 and fellow-student at Cambridge, Mr. W. G. Lettsom, later Her 
 Majesty's Charged' Affaires at Uruguay, but who was at the 
 period referred to attached to the suite of the English Minister at 
 Weimar. To the kindness of this gentleman he was indebted in a 
 considerable degree for the introductions he obtained to the best 
 
9 8 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
WEIMAR SKETCHES. 
 
 99 
 
 families in the town. Thackeray was always fond of referring to 
 this period of his life. 
 
 The spirited sketch of a German Fencing Bout given on the 
 preceding page, was probably drawn on the spot during the pro- 
 
 German student of the period. (Weimar, 1830) 
 
 gress of the combat. The collegians enable us to construct a 
 realistic picture of the student of a generation ago. 
 
 The object of the combatants being to inflict a prick or scratch 
 m some conspicuous part of the face, the rest of the person is 
 carefully padded and protected. In our days the loose cap with 
 its pointed peak has disappeared before its gay muffin-shaped sub- 
 
THACKERAYANA. 
 
 stitute ; but the traditional pride in a scarred face is still observ- 
 able. Even at the present day we find the youths of German 
 University towns rejoicing in a seam down the nose, or swagger- 
 ing in the conscious dignity of a slashed cheek, as outward and 
 visible evidence of the warlike soul within. 
 Uevrient, who appeared some years 
 since at the St. James's Theatre in German 
 versions of Shakspeare, was performing at 
 Weimar at that period, in 'Shylock,' 
 
 Goethe 
 
 (Sketched at Weimar, 1830) 
 
 Goethe. A sketch from the Fraser portrait 
 
 < Hamlet,' ' FalstarT/ and the ' Robbers ; ' 
 and the beautiful Madame Schroder was 
 appearing in ' Fidelio.' 
 
 The young English students at Weimar 
 spent their evenings in frequenting the 
 
 performances at the theatres, or attending the levees of the 
 Court ladies. 
 
 After an interval of nearly a quarter of a century, Thackeray 
 passed a couple of days in the well-remembered place, where he 
 was fortunate enough to find still some of the friends of his youth. 
 With his daughters he was received by Madame de Goethe with 
 the kindness of old days ; the little party once again drank tea 
 
WEIMAR SKETCHES. ' 
 
 101 
 
102 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 in that famous cottage in the park which had been a favourite 
 resort of the illustrious poet. 
 
 During his residence at Weimar in 1831 Thackeray saw and 
 shared a great deal of pleasant life; and although the world of the 
 little German capital was one in miniature, the experience he gained 
 in it was turned to good account in after years. It was at this 
 
 Album sketches 
 
 visit he had the happiness of meeting the great Goethe, who had 
 then withdrawn from society : he would, nevertheless, receive 
 strangers with marked cordiality ; and the tea-table of his daughter- 
 in-law was always spread for the entertainment of these favoured 
 young sojourners. 
 
RESIDENCE AT WEIMAR. 
 
 103 
 
 In October 1830, we find Thackeray writing from Weimar to a 
 bookseller in Charterhouse Square, for a liberal supply of the Eath 
 post paper on which he wrote his verses and drew his countless 
 sketches. On certain sheets of this paper, after his memorable 
 interview with Goethe, we find the young artist trying to trace from 
 
 A swell 
 
 A buck 
 
 recollection the features of the remarkable face which had deeply 
 impressed his fancy (seep. 100). There are portraits in pen and 
 ink, and others washed with colour to imitate more closely the com- 
 plexion of the study he was endeavouring to work out. The letter 
 to which we here refer contains an order of an extensive character, 
 
104 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 for the current literature, which throws some light on his tastes at: 
 this period : — ' Fraser's Town and Country Magazine for August, 
 September, October, and November. The four last numbers of 
 the Examiner and Literary Gazette, The Comic Annual, The Keep- 
 sake, and any others of the best annuals, and Bombastes Furioso, 
 with Geo. Cruikshank's illustrations. The parcel to be directed, 
 to Dr. Frohrib, Industrie Comptoir, Weimar.' 
 
 Among the ingenuous confessions of Fitz- Boodle in ' Fraser,' we 
 are admitted to three romantic episodes, all of them being directed 
 as warnings to over-fervent young men — 'Miss Lowe' (Oct. 1842), 
 'Dorothea' (Jan. 1843), ' Ottilia' (Feb. 1843): none of these ten- 
 der records of his early German experiences are reprinted with 
 Thackeray's ' Miscellanies.' We learn incidentally in ' Ottilia ' the 
 delightful fee accorded to gallant drivers on the occasion of sledg- 
 ing parties, which formed a leading amusement of a Saxon winter. 
 A large company of a score or more sledges was formed. Away 
 they went to some pleasure-house previously fixed upon as a 
 rendezvous, where a ball and supper were ready prepared, and 
 where each cavalier, as his partner descended, has the ' delicious 
 privilege of saluting her.' 
 
 Thackeray has turned the observations he made during his re- 
 sidence in the Saxon city to famous satirical account in the con- 
 struction of his typical Court of Pumpernickel, situated on the 
 Pump rivulet. We meet the most effective sarcastic sketches of 
 the mimic court in various parts of his writings, great and small. 
 It was in these sister Duchies that Pitt Crawley served as an 
 attache to the British representative. It was while dining at the table 
 of Tapeworm, the Secretary of our Legation there, that the author 
 declares he first learnt the sad particulars of the career of Mrs. 
 Rawdon Crawley, nk Rebecca Sharp. It was here, too, in the theatre 
 that he describes first meeting with Amelia, then Mrs. Osborne, 
 attended by her brother Jos. Sedley, with her son George, and his 
 guardian, faithful Major Dobbin ; when the little party were so- 
 journing, as favoured visitors, in the famous dominions (stretching 
 nearly ten miles) of his Transparency Victor Aurelius XVIII. The 
 reader will remember being presented, in one of the later chapters 
 of ' Vanity Fair,' with a humorous burlesque of the entire Grand 
 Ducal Court— its belongings, society, administration, foreign 
 legations, politics, fetes, and what not ; with a detailed descrip- 
 
A GERMAN COURT. 105; 
 
 tion of the noble bridge thrown across the Pump by his renowned 
 Transparency Victor Aurelius XIV., whose effigy rises above the 
 erection ; his foot calmly resting on the neck of a prostrate Turk, 
 and surrounded by water-nymphs and emblems of victory, peace, 
 and plenty. The prince is smiling blandly, and directing with his 
 outstretched truncheon the attention of the passer to the Aurelian 
 Platz, where this great-souled hero had commenced a palace that 
 would have been the wonder of the age, if the funds for its com- 
 pletion had not been exhausted. A previous introduction to the 
 splendours of Kalbsbraten- Pumpernickel had been afforded the 
 
 readers of ' Fraser,' where we are informed that it contained a popu- 
 lation of two thousand inhabitants, and a palace (Monblaisir, the 
 rival of Versailles) which would accommodate about six times that 
 number. The Principality furnished a contingent of three and a 
 half men to the Germanic Confederation ; only three of whom re- 
 turned from the field of Waterloo. This army corps was com- 
 manded by a General (Excellency), two major-generals, and sixty- 
 four officers of lower grades ; all noble, all knights of the order of 
 KartorTel, and almost all chamberlains to his Highness the Grand 
 Duke. A band of eighty performers led the troops to battle in 
 time of war ; executed selections daily, in more peaceful intervals,, 
 for the admiration of the neighbourhood ; and at night did duty 
 on the stage. 
 
[o6 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 There was supposed to be a chamber of representatives, who 
 were not remembered to have ever sat. home and foreign ministers, 
 residents from neighbouring courts, law-presidents, town councils, 
 &c, and all the usual great government functionaries. The Court 
 had its chamberlains and marshals ; the Grand Duchess her noble 
 ladies-in-waiting, and beauteous maids of honour. Besides the 
 sentries at the palace, there were three or four men on duty, 
 dressed as hussars ; but the historian could not discover that they 
 ever rode on horseback. 
 
 The Prime Minister had lodgings in a second floor, and the 
 other great officers were similarly accommodated : their titles were, 
 however, a distinction in themselves — Otho Sigismond Freyherr 
 Ton Schlippenschlopps, for instance, Knight Grand Cross of the 
 
 A German peasant maiden 
 
 Ducal Order of the Two Necked Swan of Pumpernickel, of the 
 Porc-et-Sifflet of Kalbsbraten, Commander of the George and 
 Blue Boar of Dummerland, Excellency and High Chancellor of 
 the United Duchies, is described as enjoying, with his private 
 income and the revenues of his offices, a total of nearly three 
 hundred pounds per annum, and, in consequence of this handsome 
 provision, being able to display such splendour as few officers of 
 the Grand Ducal Crown could afford. 
 
 These high-sounding titles were not confined to the military 
 and diplomatic bodies : the memorable town pump had been de- 
 
WEIMAR SKETCHES. 
 
 107 
 
io8 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 signed by Herr Oberhof und bau Inspektor von Speck ; whose wife 
 was honourably referred to as ' The Grand-ducal Pumpernickelian- 
 court-architectress, and Upper-palace-and-building-inspectress, 
 Von Speck.' 
 
 The preceding sketch of sleighing, which has all the life and 
 spirit of a drawing executed whilst the recollection of its subject 
 is still fresh, was evidently made at the period of Thackeray's re- 
 sidence at Weimar. He has left various pen-and-ink dottings of 
 the quaint houses in this town, which correspond with the little 
 buildings in the landscape on p. 101. 
 
 Among the volumes originally in Thackeray's possession was a 
 book, privately printed, containing portions of the diaries of Mrs. 
 Colonel St. George, written during her sojourn among the German 
 courts, 1799 and 1800. As the margins of the book are pencilled 
 with slight but graphic etchings illustrative of the matter, we insert 
 a few extracts while treating of Thackeray's early experience of 
 Weimar, as harmonising with this part of our subject. It may be 
 premised that the actual sketches belong to a considerably later 
 date. 
 
 < JOURNAL KEPT DURING A VISIT TO GERMANY IN 
 1799, 1800.' 
 
 1 Vienna, July 18, 1800. — Dined at La Gardie's ; read "Les 
 Meres Rivales " aloud, while she made a couvre-pied for her ap- 
 proaching confinement ; her mother worked a cap for the babe, 
 and he sat down to his netting : it was a black shawl for his wife. 
 A fine tall man, a soldier, too, with a very martial appearance, 
 netting a shawl for his wife amused me. 
 
 ' Dresden, Oct 2. — Dined at the Elliots'.* While I was playing 
 at chess with Mr. Elliot, came the news of Lord Nelson's arrival, 
 with Sir William and Lady Hamilton, Mrs. Cadogan, mother of 
 the latter, and Miss Cornelia Knight, famous for her " Continua- 
 tion of Rasselas " and her " Private Life of the Romans." f 
 
 ' Oct. 3. — Dined at Mr. Elliot's, with only the Nelson party. 
 It is plain that Lord Nelson thinks of nothing but Lady Hamilton, 
 
 * The Right Hon. Hugh Elliot, brother to Lord Minto, at that date English 
 Minister at Dresden ; he was afterwards made Governor of Madras, 
 f Marcus Flaminius ; or, Life of the Romans, 1795. 
 
JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO GERMANY. 109 
 
 who is totally occupied by the same object. She is bold, forward, 
 coarse, assuming, and vain. Her figure is colossal, but, except- 
 ing her feet, well shaped. Her bones are large, and she is 
 exceedingly embonpoint. She resembles the bust of Ariadne : the 
 shape of all her features is fine, as is the form of her head, and 
 particularly her ears ; her teeth are a little irregular, but tolerably 
 white ; her eyes light blue, with a brown spot in one, which, though 
 a defect, takes nothing away from her beauty and expression. Her 
 eyebrows and hair are dark, and her complexion coarse. Her 
 expression is strongly marked, variable, and interesting ; her 
 movements in common life ungraceful ; her voice loud, yet not 
 disagreeable. Lord Nelson is a little man, without any dignity ; 
 
 A fancy portrait 
 
 who, I suppose, must resemble what Suwarrow was in his youth, 
 as he is like all the pictures I have seen of that general. Lady 
 Hamilton takes possession of him, and he is a willing captive, the 
 most submissive and devoted I have seen. Sir William is old, 
 infirm, all admiration of his wife, and never spoke to-day but to 
 applaud her. Miss Cornelia Knight seems the decided flatterer 
 of the two, and never opens her mouth but to show forth their 
 praise ; and Mrs. Cadogan, Lady Hamilton's mother, is what one 
 might expect. After dinner we had several songs in honour of 
 Lord Nelson, written by Miss Knight, and sung by Lady Hamil- 
 ton. She puffs the incense full in his face ; but he receives it 
 with pleasure and sniffs it up very cordially. The songs all 
 ended in the sailor's way, with " Hip, hip, hip, hurra ! " and a 
 
1 10 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 bumper with the last drop on the nail, a ceremony I had never 
 heard of or seen before. 
 
 ' Oct. 4. — Accompanied the Nelson party to Mr. Elliot's box at 
 the opera. She and Lord Nelson were wrapped up in each 
 other's conversation during the chief part of the evening. 
 
 ' Oct. 5. — Went, by Lady Hamilton's invitation, to see Lord 
 Nelson dressed for court. On his hat he wore the large diamond 
 feather, or ensign of sovereignty, given him by the Grand Signior ; 
 on his breast the order of the Bath, the order he received as Duke 
 of Bronte ; the diamond star, including the sun or crescent, given 
 him by the Grand Signior ; three gold medals, obtained by three 
 different victories ; and a beautiful present from the King of 
 Naples. On one side is His Majesty's picture, richly set, and 
 surrounded with laurels, which spring from two united laurels 
 at bottom, and support the Neapolitan crown at top ; on the 
 other is the Queen's cipher, which turns so as to appear within 
 the same laurels, and is formed of diamonds on green enamel. 
 In short, Lord Nelson was a perfect constellation of stars and 
 orders. 
 
 ' Oct. 7. — Breakfasted with Lady Hamilton, and saw her repre- 
 sent in succession the best statues and paintings extant. She 
 assumes their attitude, expression, and drapery with great facility, 
 swiftness, and accuracy. Several Indian shawls, a chair, some 
 antique vases, a wreath of roses, a tambourine, and a few children 
 are her whole apparatus. She stands at one end of the room, 
 with a strong light on her left, and every other window closed. 
 Her hair is short, dressed like an antique, and her gown a simple 
 calico chemise, very easy, with loose sleeves .to the wrist. She 
 disposes the shawls so as to form Grecian, Turkish, and other 
 drapery, as well as a variety of turbans. Her arrangement of the 
 turbans is absolutely sleight-of-hand ; she does it so quickly, so 
 easily, and so well. It is a beautiful performance, amusing to the 
 most ignorant, and highly interesting to the lovers of art. The 
 chief of her imitations are from the antique. Each representation 
 lasts about ten minutes. It is remarkable that, though coarse and 
 ungraceful in common life, she becomes highly graceful, and even 
 beautiful, during this performance. After showing her attitudes, 
 she sang, and I accompanied. Her voice is good and very 
 strong, but she is frequently out of tune ; her expression strongly 
 
JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO GERMANY. in 
 
 marked and various ; but she has no flexibility, and no sweetness. 
 She acts her songs. . . . 
 
 ' Still she does not gain upon me. I think her bold, daring, 
 vain even to folly, and stamped with the manners of her first situa- 
 tion much more strongly than one would suppose, after having 
 represented majesty, and lived in good company fifteen years. 
 Her ruling passions seem to me vanity, avarice, and love for the 
 pleasures of the table. Mr. Elliot says, " She will captivate the 
 Prince of Wales, whose mind is as vulgar as her own, and play a 
 great part in England." 
 
 ' Oct. 8. — Dined at Madame de Loss's, wife to the Prime 
 Minister, with the Nelson party. The Electress will not receive 
 Lady Hamilton, on account of her former dissolute life. She 
 wished to go to court, on which a pretext was made to avoid 
 receiving company last Sunday, and I understand there will be no 
 court while she stays. Lord Nelson, understanding the Elector 
 did not wish to see her, said to Mr. Elliot, " Sir, if there is any 
 difficulty of that sort, Lady Hamilton will knock the Elector down, 
 and me, I'll knock him down too ! " 
 
 1 Oct. 9. — A great breakfast at the Elliots', given to the Nelson 
 party. Lady Hamilton repeated her attitudes with great effect. 
 All the company, except their party and myself, went away before 
 dinner; after which Lady Hamilton, who declared she was pas- 
 sionately fond of champagne, took such a portion of it as asto- 
 nished me. Lord Nelson was not behindhand, called more 
 vociferously than usual for songs in his own praise, and after many 
 bumpers proposed the Queen of Naples, adding, 'She is my 
 queen ; she is queen to the backbone." Poor Mr. Elliot, who 
 was anxious the party should not expose themselves more than 
 they had done already, and wished to get over the last day 
 as well as he had done the rest, endeavoured to stop the effusion 
 
1 1 2 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 of champagne, and effected it with some difficulty, but not till the 
 lord and lady, or, as he calls them, Antony and Moll Cleopatra, 
 were pretty far gone. I was so tired, I returned home soon after 
 dinner ; but not till Cleopatra had talked to me a great deal of 
 her doubts whether the queen would receive her, adding, " I care 
 little about it. I had much sooner she would settle half Sir 
 William's pension on me." After I went, Mr. Elliot told me she 
 acted Nina intolerably ill, and danced the Tarantula. During her 
 acting, Lord Nelson expressed his admiration by the Irish sound 
 of astonished applause, and by crying every now and then, " Mrs. 
 
 Siddons be ! " Lady Hamilton expressed great anxiety to 
 
 go to court, and Mrs. Elliot assured her it would not amuse her, 
 and that the Elector never gave dinners or suppers. " What ? n 
 cried she, " no guttling ! " Sir William also this evening per- 
 formed feats of activity, hopping round the room on his backbone, 
 his arms, legs, star and ribbon all flying about in the air. p 
 
 ' Oct. 10. — Mr. Elliot saw them on board to-day. He heard, 
 by chance, from a king's messenger, that a frigate waited for them 
 at Hamburg, and ventured to announce it formally. He says : 
 " The moment they were on board, there was an end of the fine 
 arts, of the attitudes, of the acting, the dancing, and the singing. 
 Lady Hamilton's maid began to scold, in French, about some 
 provisions which had been forgot. Lady Hamilton began bawl- 
 ing for an Irish stew, and her old mother set about washing the 
 potatoes, which she did as cleverly as possible. They were 
 exactly like Hogarth's actresses dressing in the barn."' 
 
 At Berlin, the fair diarist was introduced to Beurnonville, the 
 French minister, who had gained notoriety for his services at 
 Valmy and Gemappes. He was one of the commissioners 
 despatched by the convention to arrest Dumouriez, who, it may 
 be remembered, treated him with marked cordiality ; the special 
 envoy of the republic was, however, arrested, with his companions, 
 and delivered by the general into the hands of the Austrians. 
 
 ' Nov. 18-23. — I have been to a great supper at Count Schulen- 
 berg's. As usual, I saw Beurnonville, who was very attentive. 
 He looks like an immense cart-horse, put by mistake in the finest 
 caparisons ; his figure is colossal and ungainly ; and his uniform 
 of blue and gold, which appears too large even for his large 
 person, is half covered with the broadest gold lace. His ton is 
 that of a corps-de-garde (he was really a corporal), but when he 
 
JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO GERMANY. 
 
 "3 
 
 addresses himself to women, he affects a softness and legerete, 
 which reminds one exactly of the " Ass and the Spaniel," and his 
 compliments are very much in the style of M. Jourdain. It 
 is said, however, he is benevolent and well- 
 meaning. 
 
 'Nov. 30. — Supped at Mad. Angestrom's, 
 wife of the Swedish Minister, who is perfectly 
 
 indifferent to all the interests of Europe, provided nothing inter- 
 rupts her reception of the Paris fashions, for which she has an un- 
 common avidity. "N'est-ce pas, ma chere, que 
 ceci est charmant ? C'est copi'e fidelement d'wi 
 journal de Paris, et quel journal delicieux ! " 
 
 1 She wears very little covering on her person, 
 and none on her arms of any kind (shifts being 
 long exploded), except sleeves of the finest cam- 
 bric, unlined and travaille au jour, which reach 
 only half way from the shoulder to the elbow. 
 She seems to consider it a duty to shiver in 
 this thin attire, for she said to Lady Carysfort, 
 " Ah, Mil'edi, que vous etes heureuse, vous portez 
 des poches et des jupes /" I conversed chiefly with 
 Beurnonville and Pignatelli. Beurnonville says, 
 " M071 secretaire est pour les affaires, mon aide-de- 
 camp pour les dames, et moi pour la representa- 
 tion" The people about him are conscious he 
 is peu de chose, but say, " Qu'imporie ? on est si bon 
 en Prusse, et si Men dispose pour nous." A person 
 asked Vaudreuil, aide-de-camp to Beurnonville, 
 if the latter was a ci-devant. "Non," dit-il, " mais 
 il voudroit V etre" — a reply of a good deal of fijiesse, and plainly 
 proving how unconquerable the respect for rank, and wish among 
 those who have destroyed the substance to possess the shadow/ 
 
ii 4 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Thackeray's Predilections for Art — A Student in Paris — First Steps in the 
 Career — An Art Critic — Introduction to Marvy's English Landscape 
 Painters — Early Connection with Literature — Michael Angelo Titmarsh, a 
 contributor to ' Fraser's Magazine ' — French Caricature under Louis Philippe 
 — Political Satires — A Young Artist's life in Paris — Growing Sympathy 
 with Literature. 
 
 The Weimar reminiscences show how early Thackeray's passion 
 for art had developed itself. One who knew him well affirms 
 that he was originally intended for the Bar ; but he had, indeed, 
 already determined to be an artist, and for a considerable period 
 he diligently followed his bent. He visited Rome, where he 
 stayed some time, and subsequently, as we shall see, settled 
 for some time in Paris, ' where,' says a writer in the ' Edin- 
 burgh Review' for January 1848, 'we well remember, ten or 
 twelve years ago, finding him, day after clay, engaged in copying 
 pictures in the Louvre, in order to qualify himself for his intended 
 profession. It may be doubted, however,' adds this writer, 
 * whether any degree of assiduity w r ould have enabled him to excel 
 in the money-making branches, for his talent was altogether of the 
 Hogarch kind, and was principally remarkable in the pen-and-ink 
 sketches of character and situation which he dashed off for the 
 amusement of his friends.' This is just criticism ; but Thackeray, 
 though caring little himself for the graces of good drawing or 
 correct anatomy, had a keen appreciation of the beauties of 
 contemporary artists. Years after — in 1848 — when, as he says, 
 the revolutionary storm which raged in France 'drove many 
 peaceful artists, as well as kings, ministers, tribunes, and socialists 
 of state for refuge to our country,' an artist friend of his early 
 Paris life found his way to Thackeray's home in London. This 
 was Monsieur Louis Marvy, in whose atelier the former had 
 
THACKERAY'S EARLY PAPERS. 
 
 ii5 
 
 passed many happy hours with the family of the French artist — in 
 that constant cheerfulness and sunshine, as his English friend 
 expressed it, which the Parisian was now obliged to exchange for 
 a dingy parlour and the fog and solitude of London. A fine and 
 skilful landscape-painter himself, M. Marvy, while here, as a 
 means of earning a living, made a series of engravings after the 
 works of our English landscape-painters. For some of these his 
 friend obtained for M. Marvy permission to take copies in the 
 valuable private collection of Mr. Thomas Baring. The pub- 
 lishers, however, would not undertake the work without a series 
 
 of letter-press notices of each picture from Mr. Thackeray ; and 
 the latter accordingly added some criticisms which are interesting 
 as developing his theory of this kind of art. The artists whose 
 works are engraved are Calcott, Turner, Holland, Danby, Cres- 
 wick, Collins, Redgrave, Lee, Cattermole, W. J. Miiller, Harding, 
 Nasmyth, Wilson, E. W. Cooke, Constable, De Wint, and Gains- 
 borough. 
 
 It was, we believe, in 1834, and while residing for a short 
 period in Albion Street, Hyde Park, the residence of his mother 
 and her second husband, Major Carmichael Smyth, that Mr. 
 Thackeray began his literary career as a contributor to ' Fraser's 
 
n6 
 
 TH ACKER A YANA. 
 
 Magazine.' The pseudonyms of ' Michael Angelo Titmarsh/ 
 ' Fitz Boodle,' ' Yellowplush,' or ' Lancelot Wagstaff/ under which 
 he afterwards amused the readers of the periodicals, had not 
 then been thought of. His early papers related chiefly to the 
 Fine Arts ; but most of them had some reference to his French 
 
 The Two-penny Post-bag 
 
 experiences. He seems to have had a peculiar fancy for Paris, 
 where he resided, with brief intervals, for some years after coming 
 of age, and where most of his magazine papers were written. 
 
 The drawing on p. 1 1 7 represents the despair (desespoir) of 
 the Orleans family at the threatened political decease (dices) of 
 Louis Philippe, familiar to Parisians as the ' Pear ' (Poire), from 
 
FRENCH CARICATURES. 
 
 117 
 
THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 the well-known resemblance established by the caricaturists 
 
 between the shape and appearance of the king's head and a 
 
 Burgundy pear. Thackeray resided in 
 
 Paris during the contests of the king with 
 
 the caricaturists (under the banner of 
 
 Phillipon), and he was much impressed 
 
 by their wit and artistic power. If the 
 
 reader will turn to the ' Paris Sketch Book/ 
 
 he will see Mr. Thackeray's own words 
 
 upon the subject. 
 
 We may state, for the assistance of 
 the reader unacquainted with the French 
 caricatures of that period, that the figure 
 to the right with an elongated nose is M. Under the Second EmpIre 
 d'Argout ; the gentleman at the foot of the bed, astride a huge 
 squirt (the supposed favourite implement with every French phy- 
 sician), is Marshal Lobau. Queen Marie Ame'lie, the Due 
 d'Orle'ans, and other members of the royal family, are in the back- 
 ground. 
 
 One of Thackeray's literary associates has given some amusing 
 particulars of his Paris life, and his subsequent interest in the city, 
 where he had many friends and was known to a wide circle of 
 readers. ' He lived,' says this writer, ' in Paris " over the water," 
 and it is not long since, in strolling about the Latin Quarter with 
 the best of companions, that we visited his lodgings, Thackeray 
 inquiring after those who were already forgotten — unknown. Those 
 who may wish to learn his early Parisian life and associations 
 should turn to the story of " Philip on his Way through the World." 
 Many incidents in that narrative are remi- 
 niscences of his own youthful literary strug- 
 gles whilst living modestly in this city. 
 Latterly, fortune and fame enabled the author 
 of "Vanity Fair" to visit imperial Paris in 
 imperial style, and Mr. Thackeray put up 
 generally at the Hotel de Bristol, in the 
 Place Vendome. Never was increase of 
 N fortune more gracefully worn or mere gene- 
 rously employed. The struggling artist and small man of letters, 
 whom he was sure to find at home or abroad, was pretty safe to 
 
PARIS VISITS. 
 
 119 
 
 be assisted if he learned their wants. I know of many a kind act. 
 One morning, on entering Mr. Thackeray's bedroom in Paris, I 
 found him placing some napoleons in a pill- box, on the lid of 
 which was written, " One to be taken occasionally." " What are 
 you doing ? " said I. " Well," he replied, " there is an old person 
 here who says she is very ill and in distress, and I strongly suspect 
 that this is the sort of medicine she wants. Dr. Thackeray intends 
 to leave it with her himself. Let us walk out together." * Thack- 
 
 % 
 
 (in -ir u i : 
 
 
 The political Morgiana 
 
 eray used to say that he came to Paris for a holiday and to revive 
 his recollections of French cooking. But he generally worked 
 here, especially when editing the " Cornhill Magazine." ' + 
 
 Thackeray's affection for Paris, however, appears to have been 
 founded upon no relish for the gaieties of the French metropolis, 
 and certainly not upon any liking for French institutions. His 
 papers on this subject are generally criticisms upon political, 
 
 * A similar story has been told of Goldsmith, which, indeed, may have 
 suggested the pill-box remedy in the instance in the text, 
 f Paris correspondent, Morning Post. 
 
120 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 social, and literary failings of the French, written in a severe spirit 
 which savours more of the confident judgment of youth than of 
 the calm spirit of the citizen of the world. The reactionary rule 
 of Louis Philippe, the Government of July, and the boasted Charter 
 
 One of the ornaments of Paris 
 
 of 1830, were the objects of his especial dislike ; nor was he less 
 unsparing in his views of French morals as exemplified in their law 
 courts, and in the novels of such writers as Madame Dudevant. 
 The truth is, that at this Period Paris was, in the eyes of the art- 
 
PARIS SKETCHES. 
 
 121 
 
 -student, simply the Paradise of young painters. Possessed of a 
 good fortune — said to have amounted, on his coming of age in 
 
 A decorated artist 
 
 1832, to 20,000/. — the young Englishman passed his days in the 
 Louvre, his evenings with his French artist acquaintances, of whom 
 
 his preface to Louis Marvy's sketches gives so pleasant a glimpse ; 
 or sometimes in his quiet lodgings in the Quartier Latin in dashing 
 
122 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 off for some English or foreign paper his enthusiastic notices of the 
 Paris Exhibition, or a criticism on French writers, or a story of 
 French artist life, or an account of some great cause celebre then 
 stirring the Parisian world. This was doubtless the happiest period 
 of his life. In one of these papers he describes minutely the life 
 of the art student in Paris, and records his impressions of it at 
 the time. 
 
 The painter's trade in France, he discovers, is a good one ; 
 it is more appreciated, respected, and even more liberally patro- 
 nised than with us. While in England there is no school but the 
 
 Back to the past 
 
 'Academy' open to the young student — in those days South 
 Kensington did not exist, and our artists are not accustomed to 
 grant young beginners admission to their studios at pleasure, as has 
 long been the practice abroad — in France excellent schools abound, 
 where, under the eye of a practised master, a young man can 
 learn the rudiments of his art for about ten pounds a year, in- 
 cluding all kinds of accessory instruction, models, &c. ; while he 
 can, out of doors, obtain all sorts of incentives to study for ' just 
 nothing at all.' 
 
 The life of the young artist in France, we are told, is the 
 
THE STUDENT IN PARIS. 
 
 123 
 
 merriest, most slovenly existence possible. He comes to Paris 
 with some forty pounds a year settled on him to keep him and pay 
 all his expenses. He lives in a quarter where all his surroundings 
 are of the same order — art and artists ; from morning till night, 
 he is in an atmosphere of painting ; he arrives at his atelier very 
 early, and often gains a good day's study be- 
 fore the doors of our Academy are unbolted. 
 He labours, without a sense of drudgery, 
 among a score of companions as merry and 
 poor as himself. 
 
 It is certain that Thackeray had developed 
 a talent for writing long before he had aban- 
 doned his intention of becoming a painter, and 
 that he became a contributor to magazines at 
 a time when there was at least no necessity for 
 his earning a livelihood by his pen. It is pro- 
 bable, therefore, that it was his success in the 
 literary art, rather than his failure, as has been 
 assumed, in acquiring skill as a painter, which gradually drew him 
 into that career of authorship, the pecuniary profits of which be- 
 came afterwards more important to him. 
 
124 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A Elizabeth Brownrigge: a Tale,' 1832 — 'Comic Magazine,' 1832-4 — 'National 
 Standard and Literary Representative,' 1833-4 — ' Flore et Zephyr, Ballet 
 Mythologique/1836— On the Staff of 'Eraser's Magazine' — Early Connection 
 with Maginn and his Colleagues — The Maclise Cartoon of the Fraserians--. 
 Thackeray's Noms de Plume — Charles Yellowplush as a Reviewer — Skelton 
 and his ' Anatomy of Conduct ' — Thackeray's Proposal to Dickens to illus- 
 trate his Novels — Gradual Growth of Thackeray's Notoriety — His genial Ad- 
 miration for ' Boz ' — Christmas Books and Dickens' ' Christmas Carol '— 
 Return to Paris — Execution of Fieschi and Lacenaire — Daily Newspaper 
 Venture — The ' Constitutional ' and ' Public Ledger ' — Thackeray as Paris 
 Correspondent— Dying Speech of the ' Constitutional ' — Thackeray's Mar- 
 riage—Increased Application to Literature— The ' Shabby Genteel Story '— 
 Thackeray's Article in the 'Westminster' on George Cruikshank — First 
 Collected Writings — The ' Paris Sketch Book ' — Dedication to M. Aretz 
 — 'Comic Tales and Sketches,' with Thackeray's original Illustrations — 
 The 'Yellowplush Papers' — The 'Second Funeral of Napoleon,' with the 
 ' Chronicle of the Drum '— ' The History of Samuel Titmarsh and the great 
 Hoggarty Diamond ' — ' Fitzboodle's Confessions ' — ' The Irish Sketch 
 Book,' with the Author's Illustrations — 'The Luck of Barry Lyndon' 
 — Contributions to the 'Examiner' — Miscellanies — 'Carmen Lilliense' — 
 'Notes of a Journey from Cornhill to Grand Cairo,' with the Author's Illus- 
 trations — Interest excited in Titmarsh — Foundation of ' Punch' — Thackeray's 
 Contributions —His comic Designs — 'The Fat Contributor' — ' Jeames's 
 Diary.' 
 
 Before proceeding to the well-known productions from the pen 
 of our great novelist, which are familiar enough to all, it may in- 
 terest the reader to glance at his juvenile efforts in literature and 
 art. It will be found that we dwell more minutely upon the con- 
 sideration of these early sketches than is absolutely wan-anted by 
 their importance in comparison with his great works ; but we are 
 tempted to enlarge on the papers which illustrate the outset of the 
 author's career, under the conviction that they are but little known 
 ito the majority of his admirers. 
 
 We have already noticed Thackeray's characteristic hand in the 
 
ELIZABETH BROWNRIGGE. 125 
 
 pages of ' The Snob/ where his native skill in parody was first 
 evidenced in print. We have incidentally cited the satirical force 
 of his observant powers at the age of twenty and during his re- 
 sidence in Germany ; though, it must be confessed, these early 
 impressions may owe much of their strength to the training he had 
 gone through during the interval between the time he actually spent 
 in the scenes described, and the period at which the sketches were 
 first given to the public. 
 
 From the date of its establishment the columns of ' Fraser ' 
 abound in sly satires directed against the school of fiction which 
 then happened to find favour with the romance-reading public. 
 Ainsworth and Bulwer had made daring experiments with new and 
 startling materials for exciting the imagination of their believers; 
 and the encouragement held out by the unequivocal success of the 
 unwholesome order of novels was sufficient to excite the wrath of 
 those writers and critics who strove to lead the popular taste back 
 to healthier literature. Thackeray's keen appreciation of the 
 genuine humour of Fielding, Scott, and similar authors, who founded 
 the interest of their stories on such sounder principles as were 
 dictated by intelligent study of human nature, and who mainly 
 relied for their incidents on the probable occurrences, the actions 
 and passions, of actual life, was sufficient to qualify him as a subtle 
 opponent of the unnatural style; and he appears to have early en- 
 listed his pen on the side of the Fraserians, who were, perhaps, 
 the bitterest antagonists which the apostles of these unlikely 
 anomalies were fated to encounter in the development of their 
 novel theories. 
 
 In the August and September numbers of ' Fraser' for 1832 
 appeared the forerunner of those burlesque romances for which 
 Thackeray's name became afterwards famous. The sketch was 
 published when the budding satirist was little over twenty-one years 
 of age ; and the just and scarifying criticism which it contains is 
 sufficiently remarkable in so youthful a writer. But there is the 
 strongest internal evidence that the travestie of ' Elizabeth Brown- 
 rigge : a Tale,' proceeds from the author who afterwards narrated 
 the ' Story of Catharine ; ' who interrupted the early chapters of 
 ' Vanity Fair ' to introduce certain felicitous parodies ; and who, 
 in the pages of ' Punch,' produced the irresistible series of ' Prize 
 Novelists ' which remain unsurpassed. 
 
1 26 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ' Elizabeth Brownrigge ' was dedicated to the author of ' Eu- 
 gene Aram ;' and its writer described himself as a young man who 
 had for a length of time applied himself to literature, but had 
 hitherto entirely failed to derive any emolument from his exertions. 
 His tragedies, comedies, operas and farces, his novels, poems, and 
 romances, had already accumulated into an alarming pile of un- 
 acceptable and unprofitable MSS. On examining the grounds of 
 their refusal, he was surprised to find one identical phrase occurring 
 in every letter rejecting his talented productions: the poems are 
 all pronounced ' classical, pure in taste, and perfect in diction;' the 
 novels are acknowledged to be ' just in character, interesting in plot, 
 pathetic, unexceptionable in sentiment ; ' but unhappily they have 
 all one glaring defect in common— they are ' not of a popular de- 
 scription' Enlightened by the reflection that those who write to 
 live must write to please, he determined to master the popular 
 taste ; the otherwise faultless papers were put by until fashions 
 should change in the reading world; and his laundress was sent to 
 the circulating library for the last most popular novel — the author, 
 disappointed but not discouraged, being resolved to study its style 
 and manner, investigate the principles on which it was written, to 
 imbibe its spirit, and to compose his next new work as nearly as 
 possible upon the same model The popular novel brought was 
 ' Eugene Aram.' 
 
 From its pages the hitherto unsuccessful writer caught a com- 
 plete solution of the errors and defects of his former productions. 
 From the frequent perusal of older works of imagination, he had 
 learned the unfashionable practice of endeavouring so to weave the 
 incidents of his stories as to interest his readers in favour of virtue 
 and to increase their detestation of vice. By the study of ' Eu- 
 gene Aram ' he was taught to mix vice and virtue up together in 
 such an inextricable confusion as to render it impossible that any 
 preference should be given to either, or that one, indeed, should 
 be at all distinguishable from the other. 
 
 ' I am inclined/ continues the writer, in his dedication, ' to 
 regard the author of " Eugene Aram " as an original discoverer in 
 the world of literary enterprise, and to reverence him as the father 
 of a new lusus naturae, school' There is no other title by which his 
 manner could be so aptly designated. Being in search of a tender- 
 hearted, generous, sentimental, high-minded hero of romance, 
 
ELIZABETH BROWNRIGGE. 127 
 
 he turned to the ' Newgate Calendar,' and looked for him in the 
 list of men who have cut throats for money, among whom a 
 person in possession of such qualities could never have been met 
 with at all. 
 
 * In " Elizabeth Brownrigge " it will be the author's sole ambi- 
 tion to impart to his efforts some portion of the intense interest 
 that distinguishes the works of Mr. Bulwer, and to acquire the fame 
 which the skilful imitation of so great a master may hope to re- 
 ceive from the generosity of an enlightened and delighted public. 
 In taking his subject from that walk of life to which " Eugene 
 Aram " had directed his attention, many motives conspired to fix 
 the writer's choice on the heroine of the ensuing tale : she is a 
 classic personage — her name has been already " linked to immortal 
 verse " by the muse of Canning. Besides, it is extraordinary that, 
 as Mr. Bulwer had commenced a tragedy under the title of " Eu- 
 gene Aram," the dedicator had already sketched a burletta with the 
 title of " Elizabeth Brownrigge." In his dramatic piece he had 
 indeed been guilty of an egregious and unpardonable error : he 
 had attempted to excite the sympathies of his audience in favour 
 of the murdered apprentices; but the study of Mr. Bulwer dis- 
 abused him of so vulgar a prejudice, and, in the present version of 
 her case, all the interest of the reader and all the pathetic powers 
 of the author will be engaged on the side of the murderess. He 
 has taken a few slight liberties with the story, but such alterations 
 have the sanction of Bulwer's example and the recommendation of 
 his authority. As he has omitted any mention of the wife of his 
 Eugene, his imitator has not thought it necessary to recall the 
 reader's attention to the husband and sixteen children of his Eliza- 
 beth. As the hero of " Eugene Aram " is endowed with more learn- 
 ing and virtue than he possessed, and is converted from the usher 
 of a grammar school at Hayes into the solitary student of a lone 
 and romantic tower in a distant county ; the author of " Elizabeth " 
 presumed to raise the situation of his heroine, and, instead of 
 portraying her as the wife of a saddler in Fleur-de-lis Court, and 
 midwife of the poor-house, he has represented her in his tale as a 
 young gentlewoman of independent fortune, a paragon of beauty, a 
 severe and learned moral philosopher, and the Lady Bountiful of 
 the village of Islington.' 
 
 The first book opens with a sample of the MS. Burletta : the 
 
1 28 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 contents of chapter i. are sufficiently descriptive of the spirit of 
 the whole — Islington : the Red Cabbage (so called from a very im- 
 perfect representation of a red rose on its sign-board) — Specimen of 
 Lusus Naturce — Philosophers of the Porch — Who is she ? 
 
 According to a richly worked out principle of opposites, this 
 droll conception proceeds with incidents and even names taken 
 directly from the ' Newgate Calendar/ but rivalling ' Eugene 
 Aram ' itself in magnificence of diction, absurdity of sentiment, 
 and pomp of Greek quotation. The trial scene and Elizabeth's 
 speech in her own defence abound in clever points — indeed, the 
 humour of the whole composition is original and striking ; although 
 the later burlesques from presumably the same hand have made 
 us familiar with similar features brought to maturity. 
 
 During the intervals of his residence in London — for Paris may 
 be considered to have been almost his head-quarters at this period 
 — Thackeray had made the acquaintance of most of the brilliant 
 writers and rising artists of the day. It is certain that before he 
 became popularly known as a contributor to ' Fraser/ where 'his 
 papers contributed in no inconsiderable degree to the success of 
 the magazine, he was concerned in more than one literary venture. 
 Between 1832 and 1834 appeared a small miscellany, the 'Comic 
 Magazine,' now tolerably obscure : in its duodecimo pages may be 
 found the writings of several authors whose names have since be- 
 come famous. It was profusely illustrated : the major part of 
 the cuts, some of them of particular excellence, were by the hand 
 of the gifted and unfortunate Seymour. It seems that Thackeray 
 was to some extent interested in this publication, to which he 
 probably supplied both drawings and verses ; although, at this 
 date, it is difficult to distinguish his individual contributions, espe- 
 cially as they happen to be less characteristic than the average of 
 his works ; the cuts, although full of fun, having suffered from the 
 necessity of reducing the cost of engraving, as the expenses of the 
 publication became onerous. 
 
 There existed in 1833 a critical journal, 'devoted to literature, 
 science, music, theatricals, and the fine arts,' rejoicing in the 
 slightly high-flown title of the ' National Standard : ' it was one of 
 the early enterprises in the way of cheap publication, and, in spite 
 of its name, conscientiously aimed at supplying a want that has 
 never yet been adequately filled up — namely, the circulation of 
 
THE NATIONAL STANDARD. 129 
 
 sterling independent criticism. We are not informed how Thacke- 
 ray first became interested in this publication, but, from the hints 
 thrown out in his later writings, it seems that he was induced to 
 become, in some part, proprietor of the venture. In his sketch of 
 ' Mr. Adolphus Simcoe,' who is introduced into the pages of 
 'Punch ' (1842) as a typical ex-owner of a miscellany, the ' Lady's 
 Lute,' which came to a disastrous end, we are informed that, pre- 
 suming a person of literary tastes should, from some unfortunate 
 combination of circumstances, conceive a passion to become 
 the editor of a magazine, to assemble about him ' the great spirits 
 of the age,' and to be able to communicate his own contributions 
 direct to the public, a paper is sure to be for sale — ' indeed, if a 
 gentleman has a mind to part with his money, it is very hard if he 
 cannot find some periodical with a broom at its mast-head.' 
 
 In the eighteenth number of the ' National Standard ' (May 4) 
 we recognise Thackeray's pencil in a very fair cut of Louis Phi- 
 lippe—quite in the style of his contributions to ' Punch ' some ten 
 years later. The likeness is undoubtedly good and characteristic. 
 Le roi des Fran^ais is straddling in an undignified attitude — the 
 fair lily of France is trodden under one of his clumsy feet ; he 
 wears an ill-fitting plain citizen suit ; one hand is in his pocket, 
 1 counting his money;' the other rests on his redoubtable umbrella, 
 the favourite target of satirists. 
 
 In his beaver he sports the tricolor badge, i like an overgrown 
 pancake,' as the verses below declare. His face wears a truculent, 
 soured, dissatisfied twist ; ' no huzzas greet his coming,' we are 
 informed. 
 
 1 He stands in Paris as you see him before ye, 
 Little more than a snob. There's a?i end of the story* 
 
 Number 19 of the journal opens with an address of decidedly 
 Titmarshian turn, which tells the story of the new state of things 
 pretty lucidly, and with a fine flush of spirits. 
 
 Under the heading of this ' National Standard ; of ours there 
 originally appeared the following : ' Edited by F. W. N. Bayley,* 
 
 * Both the ' new and old Bayleys ' are treated to a roasting in the Comic 
 Magazine ; and we get an earlier glimpse of these worthies, for whom the 
 young writer evidently entertained but scanty respect, in Eraser for 1831 ^ 
 
 K 
 
1 30 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Esq., the late Editor and Originator of " The National Omnibus," 
 the first of the cheap Publications : assisted by the most eminent 
 Literary Men of the Day.' 
 
 ' Now we have change tout cela : no, not exactly tout cela, for we 
 still retain the assistance of a host of literary talent ; but Frederick 
 William Naylor Bayley has gone. We have got free of the Old 
 Bailey and changed the governor. Let it not be imagined for a 
 moment that we talk in the slightest disparagement of our pre- 
 decessor in office ; on the contrary, we shall always continue to 
 think him a clever fellow, and wish him all kinds of success in the 
 war he is carrying on against Baron Dimsdale. He apparently 
 has exchanged the pen for the sword. 
 
 ' Having the fear of the fate of Sir John Cam Hobhouse before 
 our eyes, we give no pledges, expressed or understood, as to the 
 career which it is our intention to run. We intend to be as free 
 as the air. The world of books is all before us where to choose 
 our course. Others boast that they are perfectly independent of 
 all considerations extraneous to the sheet in which they write, but 
 none we know of reduce that boast to practice : we therefore 
 boast not at all. We promise nothing, and if our readers expect 
 nothing more, they will assuredly not be disappointed.' 
 
 A remarkably well-executed portrait of Braham, the singer, 
 appears in the number. The eminent vocalist's rotund figure is 
 dressed in stage-nautical fashion, with a tremendously striped shirt, 
 rolling collar, sailor's knot, no waistcoat, jacket and short trousers, 
 hose, and pumps with buckles ; his somewhat coarse Israelitish caput 
 is hit off with truth and spirit ; over his head is a glory formed of a 
 jew's-harp encircled in bays ; he is before a theatrical background. 
 A dealer in old clo', of the singer's nationality, crowned with triple 
 hats, and carrying the professional bag, is introduced beneath 
 a feudal castle. Below the portrait is a sonorous parody of one 
 of Wordsworth's sonnets, attributing to Braham the ' majesty and 
 loveliness ' by which he originally captivated the world and the ears 
 
 where, in the November number, Oliver Yorke is supposed to hold a levee, 
 at which the prominent celebrities are presented to Regina's editor on various 
 pretences — 'Old Bayley, on being sent to France,' and 'Young Bayley, after 
 Four Years in the West Indies,' on his arrival to present a copy of the ' Songs 
 of Almack's.' This young gentleman came over to the 'London World' in a 
 * National Omnibus : ' his appearance excited some curiosity. 
 
THE NATIONAL STANDARD. 131 
 
 < of Sovereign Anne, in whose benign reign, according to a foot- 
 note, ikis 'Lion of Judah' 'made his first appearance in Eng- 
 land.' The jew's-harp, circled with blooming wreath, is seen of 
 werdant bays ; and thus are typified— 
 
 " The pleasant music and the baize of green, 
 Whence issues out at eve Braham with front serene /' 
 
 Certain picture criticisms in the same number bear evidence of 
 jthe hand afterwards well known in the galleries of paintings. 
 
 ' Fine Arts. — Somerset House Exhibition. — (140) Portrait of His 
 Majesty King William IV. in the uniform of the Grenadier Guards, 
 by D. Wilkie. His Majesty stands in a dun fog, and wears a 
 pair of dirty boots ; his cocked-hat is in his hand, and his crown 
 is in a corner. This large picture, in spite of the great name 
 attached to it, seems to us a failure ; Mr. Wilkie has not at all 
 succeeded in the attempt to give an expression of intelligence to 
 the physiognomy of our reverend sovereign.' 
 
 In the following week this verdict is modified ; it is stated that 
 the late critic has been dismissed as clearly incompetent for his 
 office. The picture, it is acknowledged, is a good work, and it 
 was utterly unreasonable to expect any painter could succeed in 
 throwing an intelligent expression into the royal countenance. 
 
 The writer also extravagantly praises the portrait of an alder- 
 man, on the grounds that his address at Clapham, inscribed on a 
 letter held in the hand of the picture, is ' painted as natural as 
 though it had been written.' 
 
 To No. 20, Thackeray contributed a portrait of Baron Nathan 
 Rothschild, in which the satirist does not flatter the ' pillar of 
 change.' Some verses below the woodcut are not more compli- 
 mentary to ' the first Baron Juif ; by the grace of his pelf, not the 
 King of the Jews, but the Jew of the Kings. The taste of 
 Plutus is censured, in that he has selected as prime favourite ' a 
 greasy-faced compound of donkey and pig.' After propitiating 
 the great financier in this fashion, the satirist leaves his subject 
 what he vainly wishes the Baron would leave him — ' alone in his 
 glory ! ' 
 
 In an appreciative review of Sarah Austin's translation of 
 Falk's ' Characteristics of Goethe ' the readers of the ' National 
 Standard ' are admitted to a glimpse of personal reminiscences : 
 
 k 2 
 
1 32 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 1 The fountain opposite Goethe's house is not particularly pictur- 
 esque, and the people who frequent it are not remarkable for their 
 beauty. But there are beauties disclosed to the poetk eye which 
 the common observer will endeavour in vain to discover ; and the 
 philosopher can make sermons on running brooks, such as the 
 fountain at Weimar, which, we confess, appeared to us a most 
 ordinary waterspout. 
 
 ' Appended to the work is a portrait of its hero, which, however, 
 does not bear the slightest resemblance to him/ 
 
 In No. 21 occurs the first (and last) of our ' London Charac- 
 ters ' — the sketch of an advertising medium of Chartism; a 
 wretched, terror-stricken boardsman of the dispersed 'National 
 Convention ; ' bearing the legends—' No Taxes,' ' Victory or 
 Death,' and ' Britons, be firm ! ' but his placards interfere with his 
 escape from the police by tripping up their bearer. It is worthy of 
 note that this cut, with slight alterations, appeared later m the 
 ' Comic Magazine ' already mentioned. 
 
 In No. 22 Thackeray has produced a good croquis of Manager 
 Bunn, who is displayed with his toupee and well-brushed, heavy- 
 jowled mutton-cutlet whiskers, with a wig-bag seen over the shoulder 
 of his court coat; an elaborately embroidered satin waistcoat:. 
 ' stuck to his side a shining sword ; ' 'all in his velvet breeches, 7 
 silk stockings and buckled shoes; just as, ten years later, the ' Punch 5 ' 
 wags were wont to picture the ' poet Alfred.' Handsome tall 
 candlesticks are held in either hand : these imposing dips are 
 sparkling with the names of Schrceder and Malibran respectively : 
 
 ' What gallant cavalier is seen 
 So dainty set before the queen, 
 
 Between a pair of candles ? 
 Who looks as smiling and as bright, 
 As oily and as full of light, 
 
 As is the wax he handles.' 
 
 Another cut — the person of a corpulent but dejected Cupid, his 
 fat feet resting on conventional clouds, while his chubby wrists and 
 ankles are confined in heavy irons — forms the headpiece to some 
 easy lines : a burlesque poem entitled ' Love in Fetters, a Tot- 
 tenham Court Road Ditty,' showing how dangerous it is for a 
 gentleman to fall in love with an ' Officer's Daughter,' an ' Ower 
 
'OUR FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT: 133 
 
 True Tale.' The narrator describes his passion for a fair Israelite, 
 to whom he has sent a ' letter full of love ; ' and he is roused out 
 of his slumbers by a mysterious stranger, who inquires if he is the 
 writer. The gentleman in bed admits the fact ; says the visitor, 
 I an answer 's sent.' But alas ! * by a parchment slip he could dis- 
 cern that by him stood a bailiff stern, fair Rosamunda's sire ! ' and 
 the romantic victim dolefully concludes : — 
 
 ' / served the daughter with verse and wit, 
 And the father served me with a writ; 
 So here in iron bars I sit 
 
 In quod securely stowed. 
 Being captivated by a she, 
 Whose papa captivated me; 
 All at the back 
 Of the Tabemac 
 In Tottenham Court Road? 
 
 ^Besides the cuts mentioned is a burlesque group of chorus-singers 
 from ' Zauberflote,' produced when Manager Bunn was lessee of 
 both Covent Garden and Drury Lane Theatres. 
 
 Sir Peter Laurie is also favoured with a portrait, sketched 
 from his appearance on the civic chair : spectacles, gold chain, 
 and all complete, surrounded with a wreath of full-blown laurels. 
 Some punning verses to ' Sir Peter ' are inscribed with the like- 
 mess. 
 
 After this Thackeray seems to have gone back to Paris, from 
 whence he writes, as ' Foreign Correspondent/ in June of the same 
 year, sending a drawing of a brace of figures characteristic of the 
 new and old regimes. 
 
 1 The costume of Jeune France is as extraordinary as its lite- 
 rature. I have sent a specimen, which I discovered the other day 
 in the Tuileries. It had just been reading the " Tribune," and was 
 leaning poetically against a tree : it had on a red neckcloth and a 
 black flowing mane; a stick or club, intended for ornament as 
 well as use ; and a pair of large though innocent spurs, which had 
 never injured anything except the pantaloons of the individual 
 who wore them. Near it was sitting an old gentleman, in knee- 
 breeches and a cocked-hat, who is generally to be seen of a sunny 
 day in the Tuileries, reading his Crebillon or his prayer-book : a 
 
1 34 THA CKERA VAN A. 
 
 living illustration of times past— a strange contrast with times 
 present !' 
 
 A week late* arrives a review of the dramatic pieces then 
 performing at the Paris Theatres, with a sketch of Ligier in the 
 character of Richard in ' Les Enfants d'Edouard ;' a wonderful 
 stagey figure, not unlike some of the theatrical souvenirs in the 
 early part of this volume. The sinister monarch wears the tradi- 
 tional ermine-bound cloak, with a fierce feather in his hat ; he 
 sports trunks (on the left knee is the order of the garter) and pointed 
 shoes ; his right hand grasps a dagger ; his lank locks are turned 
 over his ears, giving his face a sufficiently ruffianly character, 
 which is intensified by a scowling eye, and a set mouth in Kean's 
 best manner. 
 
 The young artist also paid a visit to some savages, the 
 ' Charruas,' South American Indians, who were then lionising in 
 Paris. The correspondent sends his readers a translation of an 
 extravagant article of the flowery order, written by Jules Janin,. 
 under the inspiration of having been to see the noble aborigines, 
 concerning whom the English journalist romantically adds, ' They 
 play cards all day, laugh, eat raw beef, and drink all they can 
 
 In the July following it was determined by the French ministry 
 to throw a sop to popularity by crowning the column in the Place 
 Vendome with the new statue of Napoleon — the very figure which 
 has since known such vicissitudes. Their Paris correspondent 
 sent the ' National Standard ' a sketch of the figure of the Em- 
 peror ; and in the same number occurs a spirited article, describing 
 the first interview of the statue with his gallant countrymen. 
 
 'The Little Corporal, in his habit of war, puts his bronze glass to 
 his bronze eye, and after some usual preliminaries, proceeds to 
 address lagrande nation : " I thank you for having placed me in a 
 situation so safe, so commanding, and so salubrious : from this 
 elevation I can look on most parts of your city. I see the 
 churches empty, the prisons crowded, the gambling-houses over- 
 flowing. Who, with such sights before him as these, gentlemen, 
 and you, would not be proud of the name of Frenchmen ? " (Great 
 cheers.) " I apprehend that the fat man with the umbrella, whom 
 I see walking in the gardens of the Tuileries, is the present pro- 
 prietor. May I ask what he has done to deserve such a reward 
 
PARIS CORRESPONDENT. 135 
 
 from you? Does he found his claim on his own merits, or on 
 those of his father ? " (A tremendous row in the crowd ; the police 
 proceed to empoigner several hundred individuals.) "Go your 
 ways " (said the statue, who was what is vulgarly called a dab at 
 an impromptu), " go your ways, happy Frenchmen ! You have 
 fought, you have struggled, you have conquered : for whom ? for 
 the fat man with the umbrella ! " ' The Emperor, in continuation 
 of his speech, observes : ' I perceive by your silence that his 
 words carry conviction;' when he stops to make the discovery that 
 there is not a single person left in the Place Vendome, his entire 
 audience having been carried off by the police. 
 
 Later on, the journal seems to languish; the portraits still 
 occur at intervals. Mr. Crockford, of gaming reputation, was 
 flattered with a cut of his effigy, just about the time a paper-raid 
 was raised against the 'play-hells' in the sweeping columns of 
 ; Fraser ;' ' Crock ' is complimented with some lines, 'more free than 
 welcome,' alluding to ' his eye of a whiting, and mouth of a cod,' 
 and referring to his old trade of fishmonger ; the lines, which are 
 signed L. E. U., add, 'he now sticks to poultry, to pigeons, and 
 rooks.' 
 
 
 Yet he still makes a cast, and not seldom a haul, 
 Still angles for flats, and still nets what he can, 
 
 A fid shows, every flight, 'mid his shoal great and small, 
 The trick how a gudgeon is made of a man .' 
 
 It is presumable that the Paris correspondent did not aban- 
 don his paper ; he sends more cuts, and foreign letters from all 
 parts, full of the most interesting private intelligence ; and notably 
 one from ' Constantinople,' supplying an imaginative gossiping ex- 
 posure of all the complicated intrigues discernible to those who 
 may be behind the scenes at the Porte ; and last, but by no means 
 least, he sends them one of the capital stories which he afterwards 
 reprinted, with fresh illustrations, in the ' Paris Sketch Book,' — 
 even the ' Devil's Wager,' with a strikingly original sketch of Sir 
 Rollo in his desperate travels to redeem his soul, borne through 
 the clouds with, for greater security, the tail of Mercurius unplea- 
 santly curled round the apoplectic throttle of his deceased highness 
 the late Count of Chauchigny, &c. &c. The moral of this vera- 
 
136 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 cious tale was promised ' in several successive numbers ; ' but the 
 wonderful story and its excellent illustration, superior we fancy to 
 those in the collected series, were ineffectual to establish the 
 success of the ' National Standard,' on which they were partially 
 thrown away. 
 
 A flourishing and facetious leader, in the thirty-sixth number, 
 placed the circulation at the astonishing figures of 84,715; and 
 particularly advertised that the price, in spite of the unprecedented 
 arrangements that had been perfected for rendering their paper 
 the leading feature of the age, would continue ' only twopence.' A 
 few numbers later it was confessed that the journal would hence- 
 forth appear at threepence, as it was found impossible to success- 
 fully carry out all their great programme of improvements at a lesser 
 price. Thackeray's contributions after this are either missing, or 
 his spirits were possibly dashed by the pecuniary responsibili- 
 ties of the undertaking. After a time the ' National Standard ' 
 was forced to haul down its colours: it lasted from January 5, 
 1833, to February 1, 1834, when it not improbably left a neat 
 train of liabilities for at least one of its contributaries to dis- 
 charge. It is certain that its failure entailed disagreeable conse- 
 quences. 
 
 We all remember that Mr. Adolphus Simcoe's little fortune 
 went down in the 'Lady's Lute,' while its versatile proprietor 
 completed his misery in Her Majesty's Asylum of the Fleet. 
 
 Still fresher must it be in the minds of Thackeray's readers, 
 that the narrator of ' Lovel the Widower,' in the character of Mr. 
 Batchelor, relates how, having these same literary aspirations, and 
 a certain command of ready money withal, he too was persuaded 
 that to be part proprietor of a periodical was rather a fine thing. 
 It may not be forgotten that in his first venture, coming to 
 London, blushing with his college experiences, he had emulated 
 the bargain of Moses Primrose, and the memorable gross of spec- 
 tacles in shagreen cases. A college acquaintance, with a smooth 
 tongue, and sleek, sanctified exterior, and a queer bill-discounter 
 (no one indeed but our old friends, the Rev. C. Honeyman, M.A., 
 and Mr. Sherrick, wine-merchant, &c, to whom we were early 
 introduced in the ' Newcomes '), had somehow got hold of that neat 
 literary paper the ' Museum,' of which eligible property this inno- 
 cent gentleman became the purchaser. 
 
'FLORE ET ZEPHYR: 137 
 
 The failure of the ' National Standard and Literary Repre- 
 sentative ' seems for a time to have damped Thackeray's enthu- 
 siasm so far as fresh adventures on his own account were con- 
 cerned; but in the March of 1836 his first attempt at independent 
 authorship appeared simultaneously in London and Paris. 
 
 ' This publication,' it was observed in the ' North British 
 Review/ shortly after the humourist's death, ' at the time when 
 he still hoped to make his bread by art, is, like indeed everything 
 he either said or did, perfectly characteristic;' and it has been so 
 utterly forgotten that we are encouraged to describe the plates 
 seriatim. We may add that it was published in Paris by Ritter 
 and Goupil, and by Mitchell in London ; though it is now so scarce 
 that we were unsuccessful in tracing a copy in the Catalogue of 
 the British Museum. 
 
 It is a small folio, in a tinted wrapper, and consists of nine 
 subjects in all, which are printed on India paper. Like all 
 Thackeray's satires, his fun is directed to a purpose ; and by the 
 very realism of his pencil he successfully turns to ridicule one of 
 his pet aversions — the dancing man, so frequently assailed in his 
 writings. 
 
 The series bears the title of 'Flore et Zephyr, Ballet Mytho- 
 logique, par The'ophile Wagstaff,' and is dedicated to Flora, who 
 herself figures in place of her name upon the cover. In a rose- 
 bedizened stage bower, where the foliage is evidently cut out by the 
 stage-carpenter, stands the exquisite premiere danseuse, looking 
 as ancient, self-satisfied, and repulsive as some of these heroines 
 occasionally appear. She is all alone in the centre of the stage, 
 but the old faded smirk and the eyelids modestly drooped express 
 her consciousness that she is the object of attraction to a full 
 house. Her fascinating smile is tempered with the air of bashful 
 modesty, conveyed by crossing her bony and sinewy arms and 
 large hands upon her lean chest ; her throat is particularly camel- 
 like, and the muscles are unmistakably prominent ; her nose is 
 long, and has a pendulous droop, which divides, by its shadow, her 
 ample semicircular mouth, and gives an effect of sentimental 
 absurdity; a blonde wreath of ample dimensions and indefinite 
 design surrounds her raven locks ; a few straggling hairs are in 
 places plastered on her forehead in unpremeditated love-locks; 
 her dress, of simple uncreased muslin, stands out like a white 
 
138 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 tulip, and is carelessly girt by a wreath of flowers. Beneath the 
 skirts appear her professional legs, arranged of course in an atti- 
 tude perfectly at variance with nature or grace, the heels touching, 
 and the long white feet pointing to precisely opposite poles of the 
 compass. In maiden meditation, she is sighing for her Zephyr 
 before some thousand eyes, the focus of all the double-barrelled 
 lorgnettes in the theatre. 
 
 In the following plate, La Dcmsefait ses offrandes sur Pautel de 
 PHarmofiie, the faithful Zephyr has come to rejoin his Flora; and 
 the happy pair trip down the footlights, set smiles on their faces, with 
 gracious gestures of salutation, to propitiate the unseen but per- 
 fectly understood ' house.' As to the Altar of Harmony, their backs 
 are turned on the supposed object of their offerings — represented 
 by a pile of musical instruments mounted on a pillar, and topped 
 by a laurel-wreathed fiddle, the expression of which (' the face of a 
 fiddle') wears a dreary resemblance to a dolefully-long human 
 countenance. Zephyr is as remarkable as his fair companion : his face 
 is, if possible, more faded, his smile more set and weary ; you feel 
 that his perpetual grin is the grimmest sight in the world, and that 
 no effort of his livid face could express a natural smile. He too 
 sports a huge pair of impossibly arched eyebrows, beneath which 
 the heavy lids droop with a worn-out look which is certainly 
 unaffected. His wig, you recognise, is no part of himself, although 
 much of his expression is conferred by it : it is a tremendous erec- 
 tion, of obviously artificial construction, and sufficiently porten- 
 tous to make its debut alone. This gentleman's nose is large and 
 pear-shaped ; his mouth and lips large and coarse ; and his Hebrew 
 descent is sufficiently characterised. He is clad in a simple tunic ; 
 his naked arms are strongly developed and ugly; his legs are 
 large, and the muscles stand out with the prominence observable 
 in members of his profession : his shoulders, of course, are tipped 
 with gauzy wings. 
 
 The third plate, Jeux innocens de Zephyr et Flore, introduces 
 us to the altar of Cupid — a sweet little deity in plaster, who is 
 drawing his stringless bow, and aiming an imaginary arrow (the 
 shaft is wanting) at the tripping and artless Flora, who, with out- 
 stretched hands, is guarding her tender bosom ; meanwhile it is 
 only pantomimically she is conscious of Cupid's aims; her eyes 
 are riveted on the audience. Zephyr is ogling up behind the 
 
'FLORE ET ZEPHYR: 139 
 
 altar, his frightful smile more set than ever, his wig more inde- 
 pendent of himself, his graces more fantastic; he is advancing, 
 with one foot pointed about a yard or so in advance of its fellow, 
 anxious to bind the fair sharer in these simple diversions in a 
 wreath of stage-flowers. 
 
 In the next plate Flora is deploring the absence of her Zephyr, 
 who has left her an opportunity to execute a pas seid. We are 
 presented with the back of the engaging coryphee : she is balanced 
 on one foot ; the left is raised at an angle of considerably over 
 forty-five degrees — a touching and perfectly natural method of 
 expressing her disconsolate situation. 
 
 In this drawing we are favoured with a view of the front of the 
 ' house ; ' the faces of the men in the orchestra are treated expres- 
 sively. One musician's eye is peculiarly roguish, while another 
 performer is endeavouring to combine business with pleasure ; to 
 play his flageolet, follow his score, and yet not lose sight of the 
 deploring one. 
 
 Zephyr's turn for individual display occurs in the next plate. 
 Dans un pas seal il exprime son extreme desespoir ; and accordingly, 
 without in any degree altering the cast of the mask of a face he 
 wears, he proceeds to express the intensity of his desolation, by 
 convincing the audience of the strength and activity of his lower 
 members, in a succession of horizontal bounds which give him the 
 aspect of a flying man. In the corner of the picture a Cupid — a 
 plump-faced little boy, decked out as Cupid — and his elder sister 
 (the likeness between the pair is evidently intentional) are opening 
 their eyes and mouths with stupid astonishment at Zephyr's grief- 
 inspired agility. 
 
 Fresh actresses arrive on the scene. 
 
 Zephyr has struck a stage attitude expressing the unconsolable 
 state of his affections ; his legs crossed, and one arm resting on 
 the now vacant pedestal. Triste el afrattu, les sednctio?is des 
 Nymphes le te?itent en vain. The ladies of the ballet flit vainly 
 around him, his eyes are cast down ; even the fascinations which 
 are held out by a clumsy theatrical lyre, held in a melting pose by 
 one fair creature reposing on one knee, are insufficient to tempt 
 him to forget the charms of the absent. 
 
 Such fidelity can be only recompensed by the ' Reco?iciliation 
 of Flora and Zephyr] which is displayed in the succeeding plate. 
 
140 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 The triumphant Zephyr, his smile, if possible, expressing less mean- 
 ing than usual, is now kneeling ; his arms are folded, and his head 
 is supported at an angle by a rigid throat — for he has a weight to 
 sustain. The faithful Flora has bounded into his arms ; and, in 
 the picture, the last triumphant tableau is before the audience. 
 One foot of the danseuse lightly rests on Zephyr's outstretched 
 thigh, the other is on a level with her shoulder; her arms are 
 gracefully clasped around her companion, to preserve her balance, 
 and her head and throat are also at a studied angle, for the sake 
 of the equilibrium of the group. On this rapturous scene of 
 fidelity rewarded with boundless happiness the curtain descends ; 
 but we have not seen the last of the performers. 
 
 In, presumably, the Green Room we witness ' The Retreat of 
 Flora' The fair creature, who is in every way decidedly French, 
 is there with her mother and two admirers : Zephyr, of course, 
 does not figure in this category. The two latter pictures of the 
 series are in Thackeray's most forcible style ; and indeed, for truth, 
 expressiveness, and character, compare quite favourably with 
 Hogarth's finer satires. One lover is a young dandy of the 
 period : his intellectual capacities are conspicuously absent ; it 
 may be said he has neither forehead nor chin. He is sitting imbe- 
 cilely astride his chair, vacantly leaning his elbows on the back, 
 and gazing at nothing in particular; he is probably a trifle vexed at 
 Flora's indifference, or is jealous of his elder rival. The smiles 
 and leers of Flora's mamma are thrown away at present : the old 
 lady is no less painted, and is possibly more artificially made up 
 than her daughter ; her eyebrows owe much to art, her cheeks are 
 evidently high in colour, her faded smirks and glittering eyes are 
 by no means inviting, and a band of velvet across her forehead 
 suggests a suspicion of 'false fronts;' her bonnet is of the 
 gaudiest, a very pinnacle of bows, ribands, and artificial flowers. 
 This venerable creature is heavily cloaked, and carries a huge 
 muff, having evidently walked to the theatre to rejoin her fair 
 darling, who is standing on the hearth-rug, her toes still atti- 
 tudinising ; she is slightly wrapped in a shawl, ready for her fiacre. 
 The gentleman on whom Flora is smiling, and evidently at some- 
 thing just a little wicked, is a big, burly, coarse, self-satisfied, 
 elderly man, whose hands are in the pockets of his awkward 
 straddling trousers : his face is a study of downright unflinching 
 
 
'FLORE ET ZEPHYR: 141 
 
 grinning baseness ; he is probably doing a good business on the 
 Bourse, and his wife and family are no doubt at home in their 
 beds. 
 
 The last plate, { Les Delassements de Zephyr,' is perhaps the 
 most refreshing to contemplate ; for in it we see labour rejoicing 
 over those little comforts which are its reward. Poor old Zephyr, 
 who is after all a very homely, estimable, and hard-worked per- 
 sonage, who probably gives lessons, drills the ballet all day, and 
 capers without intermission till midnight all the year round, is 
 resting his arm on the chimney-piece, whereon his attitude is still 
 a set pose : the preposterous wig is in the hands of the perruquier, 
 a nobly curled barber, who, as he brushes the monstrous toupee, is 
 complacently admiring what he evidently considers a triumph of 
 art. Zephyr, we can now realise, is of no particular age, or race ; 
 he retains his jaded old sprightliness as he favours his capacious 
 nose with a copious pinch of snuff, supplied to that organ from 
 the ball of his thumb, with much apparent gratification. The 
 gentleman who is offering this hero the courtesy of his huge snuff- 
 box is a jolly, jaunty-looking person enough, a compound of splen- 
 dour and shabbiness ; probably himself attached to one of the 
 theatres as low comedian. His jowl beams with good temper, 
 and is ensconced in a pair of huge gills and a voluminous neck- 
 cloth ; his hat and waistcoat are showy of their kind ; his great- 
 coat has evidently suffered by wear, though still an imposing and 
 comfortable garment, The impression of his respectability be- 
 comes fainter below ; his trousers and boots are evidently out of 
 shape and unequivocally seedy, and his old umbrella is a study of 
 itself. An innocent-faced chubby pot-boy, with a smile of recog- 
 nition for the visitor, is holding, on a tray from the nearest tavern, 
 a foaming pot of porter for Zephyr after his saltatory exertions, 
 and a glass of brandy-and-water to revive his friend, who has come 
 in from the cold. 
 
 These drawings, which are certainly equal to anything Thack- 
 eray has produced, have been drawn on stone by Edward Morton, 
 son of ' Speed the Plough/ who has, if anything, contributed to 
 their excellence : they are remarkably well-executed examples of 
 lithography, and are delineated with that delicate strength, truth, 
 and thoughtful effect for which the works of this able but little- 
 known artist are always to be praised. Each plate bears the 
 
142 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 monogram WT, which, with the M added, afterwards became 
 tolerably familiar to the world. 
 
 It is worthy of remark that in this, as always, Thackeray ridi- 
 cules the ugly and the absurd without departing from truth, or 
 trenching on impropriety. The quality he praised highest in Cruik- 
 shank and Leech — that of never raising a blush or offending 
 modesty— is perhaps most remarkable in himself, in treating a sub- 
 ject like Flora and Zephyr, where a young artist, and especially 
 one whose training had been in Paris, might be tempted to imply 
 a certain freedom of manners. ' The effect of looking over these 
 juvenilia, these shafts from a mighty bow, is good, is moral ; you 
 are sorry for the hard- wrought slaves ; perhaps a little con- 
 temptuous towards the idle people who go to see them. 5 
 
 Thackeray had scarcely attained the age of three-and-twenty 
 when the young literary art- student in Paris was recognised as an 
 established contributor to ' Fraser,' worthy to take a permanent 
 place among the brilliant staff which then rendered this periodical 
 famous both in England and on the Continent. It was at that 
 time under the editorship of the celebrated Maginn, one of the 
 last of those compounds of genius and profound scholarship with 
 reckless extravagance and loose morals, who once flourished under 
 the encouragement of a tolerant public opinion. There can be no 
 doubt that the editor and Greek scholar who is always in diffi- 
 culties, who figures in several of his works, is a faithful picture of 
 this remarkable man as he appeared to his young contributor. 
 His friend, the late Mr. Hannay, says : — 
 
 ' Certain it is that he lent — or in plainer English, gave — five 
 hundred pounds to poor old Maginn when he was beaten in the 
 battle of life, and like other beaten soldiers made a prisoner — in 
 the Fleet. With the generation going out — that of Lamb and 
 Coleridge — he had, we believe, no personal acquaintance. 
 Sydney Smith he met at a later time ; and he remembered with 
 satisfaction that something which he wrote about Hood gave 
 pleasure to that delicate humorist and poet in his last days.*" 
 Thackeray's earliest literary friends were certainly found among the 
 
 * He had certainly seen Sydney Smith. A quaint half- caricature outline 
 sketch of the latter was contributed by ' Titmarsh ' to Fraser *s Magazine, at an 
 early period of his connection with that journal. 
 
LITERARY ASSOCIATES. 143 
 
 brilliant band of Fraserians, of whom Thomas Carlyle, always 
 one of his most appreciative admirers, is probably the solitary 
 .survivor. From reminiscences of the wilder lights in the " Fraser " 
 constellation were drawn the pictures of the queer fellows con- 
 nected with literature in " Pendennis "—Captain Shandon, the 
 ferocious Bludyer, stout old Tom Serjeant, and so forth. Maga- 
 zines in those days were more brilliant than they are now, when 
 they are haunted by the fear of shocking the Fogy element in 
 their circulation ; and the effect of their greater freedom is seen 
 in the buoyant, riant, and unrestrained comedy of Thackeray's 
 own earlier " Fraser " articles. " I suppose we all begin by being 
 too savage," is the phrase of a letter he wrote in 1849 ; " / know 
 me who did:' He was alluding here to the " Yellowplush Papers " 
 in particular, where living men were very freely handled. This 
 -old, wild satiric spirit it was which made him interrupt even the 
 early chapters of " Vanity Fair/' by introducing a parody which 
 he could not resist of some contemporary novelist.' * 
 
 But we have a proof of the fact of how fully he was recognised 
 by his brother Fraserians as one of themselves, in Maclise's 
 picture of the contributors, prefixed to the number of ' Fraser's 
 Magazine' for January 1835 — a picture which must have been 
 drawn at some period in the previous year. This outline car- 
 toon represents a banquet at the house of the publisher, Mr. 
 Fraser, at which, on some of his brief visits to London, Thackeray 
 had doubtless been present, for it is easy to trace in the juvenile 
 features of the tall figure with the double eyeglass — Thackeray 
 was throughout life somewhat near-sighted — a portrait of the 
 future author of 'Vanity Fair.' Mr. Mahony, the well-known 
 ' Father Prout ' of the magazine, in his account of this picture, 
 written in 1859, tells us that the banquet was no fiction. In the 
 chair appears Dr. Maginn in the act of making a speech ; and 
 around him are a host of contributors, including Bryan Waller 
 Procter (better known then as Barry Cornwall), Robert Southey, 
 William Harrison Ainsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, James 
 Hogg, John Gait, Fraser the publisher, having on his right, Crofton 
 Croker, Lockhart, Theodore Hook, Sir David Brewster, Thomas 
 Carlyle, Sir Egerton Brydges, Rev. G. R. Gleig, Mahony, Edward 
 
 * Edinburgh Evening Conrant, Jan. 5, 1864. 
 
144 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Irving, and others, numbering twenty-seven in all — of whom, in 
 1859, eight only were living. 
 
 This celebrated cartoon of the Fraserians appears to place 
 Thackeray's connection with the magazine before 1835 ; but 
 we have not succeeded in tracing any contribution from his hand 
 earlier than November 1837. Certainly, the afterwards well-used 
 
 110ms de plume of Michael Angelo Titmarsh, Fitzboodle, Charles 
 Yellowplush, and Ikey Solomons, are wanting in the earlier 
 volumes. 
 
 It is in the number for the month and year referred to that we 
 first find him contributing a paper which is not reprinted in his 
 ' Miscellanies/ and which is interesting as explaining the origin of 
 that assumed character of a footman in which the author of the 
 1 Yellowplush Papers ' and ' Jeames's Diary ' afterwards took de- 
 light. A little volume had been published in 1837, entitled, ' My 
 Book ; or, The Anatomy of Conduct, by John Henry Skelton.' 
 The writer of this absurd book had been a woollendraper in the 
 neighbourhood of Regent Street. He had become possessed of 
 the fixed idea that he was destined to become the instructor of 
 mankind in the true art of etiquette. He gave parties to the best 
 company whom he could induce to eat his dinners and assemble 
 
THE ANATOMY OF CONDUCT. 145 
 
 at his conversaziones, where his amiable delusion was the frequent 
 subject of the jokes of his friends. Skelton, however, felt them 
 little. He spent what fortune he had, and brought 
 himself to a position in which his fashionable 
 acquaintances no longer troubled him with their 
 attentions ; but he did not cease to be, in his own 
 estimation, a model of deportment. He hus- 
 banded his small resources, limiting himself to 
 a modest dinner daily at a coffee-house in the 
 neighbourhood of his old home, where his per- 
 fectly fitting dress-coat — for in this article he 
 was still enabled to shine — his brown wig and 
 dyed whiskers, his ample white cravat of the 
 style of the Prince Regent's days, and his well- 
 polished boots, were long destined to raise the character of the 
 house on which he bestowed his patronage. In the days of his 
 prosperity Skelton was understood among his acquaintances to 
 be engaged on a work which should hand down to posterity the 
 true code of etiquette — that body of unwritten law which regulated 
 the society of the time of his favourite monarch. In the enforced 
 retirement of his less prosperous days, the ex-woollendraper's 
 literary design had time to develop itself, and m the year 1837 
 ' My Book ; or, The Anatomy of Conduct, by John Henry Skel- 
 ton,' was finally given to the world. 
 
 It was this little volume which fell in the way of Thackeray, 
 who undertook to review it for ' Fraser's Magazine.' In order to do 
 full justice to the work, nothing seemed more 
 proper than to present the reviewer in the 
 assumed character of a fashionable footman. 
 The review, therefore, took the form of a 
 letter from Charles Yellowplush, Esq., con- 
 taining ' Fashionable fax and polite Anny- 
 
 goats,' dated from 'No. , Grosvenor 
 
 •< Square (N.B. — Hairy Bell),' and addressed 
 
 Inspector of Anatomy tQ Qliver Y()rke? ^ well _knOWIl pseudonym 
 
 of the editor of ' Fraser.' To this accident may be attributed those 
 extraordinary efforts of cacography which had their germ in the 
 Cambridge ' Snob,' but which attained their full development in 
 the Miscellanies, the Ballads, the 'Jeames's Diary,' and other 
 
 L 
 
U6 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 short works, and also in some portions of the latest of the author's 
 novels. The precepts and opinions of ' Skelton/ or ' Skeleton,' 
 as the reviewer insisted on calling the author of the ' Anatomy/ 
 were fully developed and illustrated by Mr. Yellowplush. The 
 footman who reviewed the ' fashionable world ' achieved a decided 
 success. Charles Yellowplush was ' requested by the editor to 
 extend his comments upon society and books, and in January 
 1838 the 'Yellowplush Papers' were com- 
 menced, with those vigorous though crude 
 illustrations by the author, which appear 
 at first to have been suggested by the light- 
 spirited style of Maclise's portraits in the 
 same magazine, a manner which afterwards 
 became habitual to him. 
 
 It was in the year 1836 that Thackeray, 
 according to an anecdote related by him- 
 self, offered Dickens to undertake the task 
 of illustrating one of his works. The story 
 was told by the former at an anniversary 
 dinner of the Royal Academy a few years 
 since, Dickens being present on the occa- 
 sion. ' I can remember,' said Thackeray, 
 'when Dickens was a very young man, 
 and had commenced delighting the world 
 with some charming humorous works in 
 covers, which were coloured light green, and 
 came out once a month, that this young 
 man wanted an artist to illustrate his writ- 
 ings; and I recollect walking up to his 
 chambers in Furnival's Inn, with two or 
 three drawings in my hand, which, strange 
 to say, he did not find suitable. But for the unfortunate blight 
 which came over my artistical existence, it would have been my 
 pride and my pleasure to have endeavoured one day to find a 
 place on these walls for one of my performances.' The work re- 
 ferred to was the ' Pickwick Papers/ which was commenced in 
 April of that year, as the result of an agreement with Dickens 
 and Mr. Seymour, the comic artist— the one to write, and the 
 other to illustrate a book which should exhibit the adventures 
 
 The rejected one 
 
DICKENS AND THACKERAY. 147 
 
 of cockney sportsmen. As our readers know, the descriptive 
 letterpress, by the author of the ' Sketches by Boz/ soon attracted 
 the attention of the world; while the clever illustrations by Seymour, 
 which had the merit of creating the well-known pictorial character- 
 istics of Mr. Pickwick and his friends, became regarded only as 
 illustrations of the new humorist's immortal work. Unhappily, 
 only two or three monthly numbers had been completed, when 
 Seymour destroyed himself in a fit of derangement. A new artist 
 was wanted, and the result was the singular interview between the 
 two men whose names, though representing schools of fiction so 
 widely different, were destined to become constantly associated in 
 the public mind. Dickens was then acquiring the vast popularity 
 as a writer of fiction which never flagged from that time : the 
 young artist had scarcely attempted literature, and had still before 
 him many years of obscurity. The slow growth of his fame pre- 
 sents a curious contrast to the career of his fellow-novelist. Hard 
 as Thackeray subsequently worked in contributing to ' Fraser/ 
 in co-operating with others on daily newspapers, in writing for 
 1 Cruikshank's Comic Almanack/ for the ' Times ' and the ' Ex- 
 aminer,' for 'Punch,' and for the 'Westminster' and other 
 Reviews, it could not be said that he was really known to the 
 public till the publication of ' Vanity Fair/ when he had been an 
 active literary man for at least ten years, and had attained the age 
 of thirty-seven. The ' Yellowplush Papers ' in ' Fraser ' enjoyed a 
 sort of popularity, and were at least widely quoted in the news- 
 papers ; but of their author few inquired. Neither did the two 
 volumes of the ' Paris Sketch Book/ though presenting many good 
 specimens of his peculiar humour, nor the account of the second 
 funeral of Napoleon, nor even the ' Irish Sketch Book/ do much 
 to make their writer known. It was his ' Vanity Fair ' which, 
 issued in shilling monthly parts, took the world of readers as it 
 were by storm ; and an appreciative article from the hand of a 
 friend in the 'Edinburgh Review/ in 1848, for the first time 
 helped to spread the tidings of a new master of fiction among us, 
 destined to make a name second to none, in its own field. 
 
 Thackeray was in Paris in March 1836, at the time of the 
 execution of Fieschi and Lacenaire, upon which subject he wrote 
 some remarks in one of his anonymous papers which it is interest- 
 ing to compare with the more advanced views in favour of the 
 
148 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 abolition of the punishment of death, which are familiar to the 
 readers of his subsequent article, ' On Going to see a Man Hanged.' 
 He did not witness the execution either 
 of Fieschi or Lacenaire, though he made 
 unsuccessful attempts to be present at 
 both events. 
 
 The day for Fieschi's death was pur- 
 posely kept secret; and he was executed 
 at a remote quarter of the town. But 
 the scene on the morning when his ex- 
 ecution did not take place was never 
 forgotten by the young English artist. 
 
 It was carnival time, and the rumour 
 had pretty generally been carried abroad 
 that the culprit was to die on that day, 
 A friend who accompanied Thackeray 
 came many miles through the mud and 
 dark, in order to be ' in at the death.' 
 They set out before light, floundering 
 through the muddy Champs Elysees, 
 where were many others bent upon the 
 same errand. They passed by the 
 Concert of Musard, then held in the 
 and round this, in the wet, a number of coaches 
 were collected : the ball was just up ; and a crowd of people, 
 in hideous masquerade, drunk, tired, dirty, dressed in horrible 
 old frippery and daubed with filthy rouge, were trooping out of 
 the place ; tipsy women and men, shrieking, jabbering, gesticulat- 
 ing, as Frenchmen will do ; parties swaggering, staggering forwards, 
 arm in arm, reeling to and fro across the street, and yelling 
 songs in chorus. Hundreds of these were bound for the show, 
 and the two friends thought themselves lucky in finding a vehicle 
 to the execution place, at the Barriere d'Enfer. As they crossed 
 the river, and entered the Rue d'Enfer, crowds of students, black 
 workmen, and more drunken devils from carnival balls, were 
 filling it ; and on the grand place there were thousands of these 
 assembled, looking out for Fieschi and his coi't'ege. They waited, 
 but no throat-cutting that morning ; no august spectacle of satisfied 
 justice ; and the eager spectators were obliged to return, disap- 
 pointed of the expected breakfast of blood. 
 
 Somewhat sanguinary 
 
 Rue St. Honore ; 
 
DAILY NEWSPAPER VENTURE. 
 
 149 
 
 The other attempt was equally unfortunate. The same friend 
 accompanied him, but they arrived too late on the ground to be 
 present at the execution of Lacenaire and his co-mate in murder, 
 Avril. But as they came to the spot (a gloomy round space, 
 within the barrier — three roads led to it — and, outside, they saw 
 the wine-shops and restaurateurs of the barrier looking gay and 
 inviting), they only found, in the midst of it, a little pool of ice, 
 just partially tinged with red. Two or three idle street boys were 
 dancing and stamping about this pool ; and when the Englishmen 
 asked one of them whether the execution had taken place, he 
 began dancing more madly than ever, and shrieked out with a 
 loud fantastical theatrical voice, ' Venez tons, Messieurs et Dames; 
 
 voyez ici le sang die monstre Lachiaire et de son compagnon le 
 traitre Avril; ' and straightway all the other gamins screamed out 
 the words in chorus, and took hands and danced round the little 
 puddle. 
 
 Thackeray returned to London in March 1836, and resided 
 for a few months in the house of his step-father, Major Henry 
 Carmichael Smyth. The principal object of his return was to 
 concert with the Major, who was a gentleman of some literary 
 attainments, a project for starting a daily newspaper. The time 
 was believed to be remarkably opportune for the new journal ; the 
 old oppressive newspaper stamp being about to be repealed, and 
 a penny stamp, giving the privilege of a free transmission through 
 the post, to be substituted. Their project was to form a small 
 
1 50 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 joint-stock company, to be called the Metropolitan Newspaper 
 Company, with a capital of 60,000/., in shares of 10/. each. The 
 Major, as chief proprietor, became chairman of the new company; 
 Laman Blanchard was appointed editor, Douglas Jerrold the dra- 
 matic critic, and Thackeray the Paris correspondent. An old and 
 respectable, though decaying journal, entitled the ' Public Ledger/ 
 was purchased by the company; and on September 15, the first 
 day of the reduced stamp duty, the newspaper was started with 
 the title of the ' Constitutional and Public Ledger.' The politics 
 of the paper were ultra-liberal. Its programme was entire freedom 
 of the press, extension of popular suffrage, vote by ballot, shorten- 
 ing of duration of parliaments, equality of civil rights and re- 
 ligious liberty. A number of the most eminent of the advanced 
 party, including Mr. Grote, Sir William Molesworth, Mr. Joseph 
 Hume, and Colonel Thompson, publicly advertised their intention 
 to support the new journal, and to promote its circulation. 
 Thackeray's Paris letters, signed ' T. T.,' commenced on Sep- 
 tember 24, and were continued at intervals until the spring of the 
 following year. They present little worth notice. At that time 
 the chatty correspondent who discourses upon all things save the 
 subject of his letter was a thing unknown. Bare facts, such as 
 the telegraph-wire now brings us, with here and there a soup $ on of 
 philosophical reflection, were the utmost that the readers of news- 
 papers in those days demanded of the useful individual who kept 
 watch in the capital of civilisation for events of interest. Gene- 
 rally, however, the letters are characterised by a strong distaste for 
 the Government of July, and by an ardent liberalism which had 
 but slightly cooled down when, at the Oxford election in 1857, he 
 declared himself an uncompromising advocate of vote by ballot. 
 Writing from Paris on October 8, he says : ' We are luckily too- 
 strong to dread much from open hostility, or to be bullied back 
 into Toryism by our neighbours ; but if Radicalism be a sin in 
 their eyes, it exists, thank God ! not merely across the Alps, but 
 across the Channel.' The new journal, however, was far from 
 prosperous. After enlarging its size and raising its price from 
 fourpence-halfpenny to fivepence, it gradually declined in circula- 
 tion. The last number appeared on July 1, 1837, bearing black 
 borders for the death of the king. ' We can estimate, therefore/ 
 says the dying speech of the ' Constitutional,' ' the feelings of the 
 
THE 'CONSTITUTIONAL: 151 
 
 gentleman who once walked at his own funeral,' and the editor, or 
 perhaps his late Paris correspondent, adds : ' The adverse circum- 
 stances have been various. In the philosophy of ill-luck it may 
 be laid down as a principle that every point of discouragement 
 tends to one common centre of defeat. When the Fates do concur 
 in on? discomfiture their unanimity is wonderful. So has it hap- 
 pened in the case of the " Constitutional." In the first place, a 
 delay jf some months, consequent upon the postponement of the 
 newspaper stamp reduction, operated on the minds of many who 
 were originally parties to the enterprise; in the next, the majority 
 of those who remained faithful were wholly inexperienced in the 
 art and mystery of the practical working of an important daily 
 journal ; in the third, and consequent upon, the other two, there 
 was the want of those abundant means, and of that wise applica- 
 tion of lesources, without which no efficient organ of the interests 
 of any cass of men — to say nothing of the interests of that first 
 and greatest class whose welfare has been our dearest aim and 
 most coistant object — can be successfully established. Then 
 came furher misgivings on the part of friends, and the delusive 
 undertakings of friends in disguise.' The venture proved in every 
 way a disistrous one. Although nominally supported by a joint- 
 stock company, the burden of the undertaking really rested upon 
 the original promoters, of whom Major Smyth was the principal, 
 while his step-son, Thackeray, also lost nearly all that remained of 
 his fortum. 
 
 It wsn shortly after the failure of the ' Constitutional ' that 
 Thackeray married in Paris a Miss Shaw, sister of the Captain 
 Shaw, an Indian officer, who was one of the mourners at his 
 funeral, ai Irish lady of good family, who bore him two daughters, 
 the elder Df whom first gave, during her illustrious father's life-time, 
 indications of inheriting his talents, in the remarkable story of Eliza- 
 beth,' written by her, and published in the ' Cornhill Magazine.' In 
 1837 he feft Paris with his family, and resided for two years in Great 
 Coram Street, London, when he began to devote himself seriously 
 to literacy labour, adding, we believe, occasional work as an illus- 
 trator. We are told that he contributed some papers to the 
 ' Times' during the late Mr. Barnes's editorship — an article on 
 1 Fielding ' among them. He is believed to have been connected 
 with two literary papers of his time — the ' Torch/ edited by Felix 
 
152 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Fax, Esq., and the ' Parthenon,' which must not be confounded 
 with a literary journal with the same name recently existing. The 
 ' Torch,' which was started on August 26, 1837, ran only for six 
 months, and was immediately succeeded by the 'Parthenon/ vhich 
 had a longer existence. In neither paper, however, is it possible 
 to trace any sign of that shrewd criticism and that overflowing 
 humour which distinguish the papers in ' Fraser.' For the latter 
 publication he laboured assiduously, and it was at this tine that 
 the ' Yellowplush Papers ' appeared, with occasional notices of the 
 Exhibitions of Paintings in London. Among his writings of this 
 period (1837-1840) we also find ' Stubbs's Calendar, or the Fatal 
 Boots,' contributed to his friend Cruikshank's ' Comic Almanack ' 
 for 1839, an d since included in the ' Miscellanies ;' ' Catherine, by 
 Ikey Solomons, jun.,' a long continuous story, founded on the 
 crime of Catherine Hayes, the celebrated murderess of the last 
 centuiy, and intended to ridicule the novels of the school of Jack 
 Sheppard, and illustrated with outline cartoons by the author ; 
 1 Cartouche ' and ' Poinsonnet,' two stories, and ' Epislles to the 
 Literati/ In 1839 ne visited Pans again, at the request of the 
 proprietor of ' Fraser,' in order to write an account of tie French 
 Exhibition of Paintings, which appeared in the December 
 number. 
 
 On his return he devoted himself to writing the 'Shabby 
 Genteel Story,' which was begun in ' Fraser ' for June, and con- 
 tinued in the numbers for July, August, and October, when it 
 stopped unfinished at the ninth chapter. The story of tlis strange 
 failure is a mournful one. While busily engaged in working out this 
 affecting story, a dark shadow descended upon his lousehold, 
 making all the associations of that time painful to him for ever. 
 The terrible truth, long suspected, that the chosen partner of his 
 good and evil fortunes could never participate in the siccess for 
 which he had toiled, became confirmed. The mental disease 
 which had attacked his wife rapidly developed itself, until the 
 hopes which had sustained those to whom she was most dear 
 were wholly extinguished. Thackeray was not one of those who 
 love to parade their domestic sorrows before the world. No ex- 
 planation of his omission to complete his story was giver, to his 
 readers ; but, years afterwards, in reprinting it in his ' Miscdlanies,' 
 he hinted at the circumstances which had paralyzed his hand, and 
 
THE 'PARIS SKETCH BOOK! 153 
 
 rendered him incapable of ever resuming the thread of his story, 
 with a touching suggestiveness for those who knew the facts. The 
 tale was interrupted, he said, ' at a sad period of the writer's own 
 life.' When the republication of the ' Miscellanies ' was announced, 
 it was his intention to complete the little story — but the colours 
 were long since dry, the artist's hand had changed. It ' was 
 best,' he said, ' to leave the sketch as it was when first designed 
 seventeen years ago. The memory of the past is renewed as he 
 looks at it.' * 
 
 It was in 1840 that Thackeray contributed to the ' West- 
 minster ' a kindly and appreciative article upon the productions 
 of his friend George Cruikshank, illustrated — an unusual thing for 
 the great organ of the philosophers of the school of Bentham, J. 
 Mill, and Sir W. Molesworth — with numerous specimens of the 
 comic sketches of the subject of the paper. His defence of 
 Cruikshank from the cavils of those who loved to dwell upon his 
 defects as a draughtsman is full of sound criticism, and his claim 
 for his friend as something far greater, a man endowed with that 
 rarest of all faculties, the power to create, is inspired by a gene- 
 rous enthusiasm which lends a life and spirit to the paper not often 
 found in a critical review. This long paper, signed with the Greek 
 letter Theta, is little known, but Thackeray frequently referred to 
 it as a labour in which he had felt a peculiar pleasure. 
 
 In the summer of 1840 Thackeray collected some of his original 
 sketches inserted in ' Fraser ' and other periodicals, English and 
 foreign, and republished them under the title of the ' Paris Sketch 
 Book.' This work is interesting as the first independent publication 
 of the author, but of its contents few things are now remembered. 
 The dedicatory letter prefixed, however, is peculiarly characteristic 
 of the writer. It relates to a circumstance which had occurred to 
 him some time previously in Paris. The old days when money 
 was abundant, and loitering among the pictures of the Paris galle- 
 ries could be indulged in without remorse, had gone. The res an- 
 gusta domi with which genius has so often been disturbed in its 
 day-dreams began to be familiar to him. The unfortunate failure 
 of the ' Constitutional ' — a loss which he, years afterwards, occa- 
 sionally referred to as a foolish commercial speculation on which 
 he had ventured in his youth — had absorbed the whole of his 
 * Miscellanies, vol. iv. p. 324. 
 
1 54 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 patrimony. At such a time a temporary difficulty in meeting a 
 creditor's demand was not uncommon. On one such occasion, a 
 M. Aretz, a tailor in the Rue Richelieu, who had for some time 
 supplied him with coats and trousers, presented him with a 
 small account for those articles, and was met with a statement 
 from his debtor that an immediate settlement of the bill would be 
 extremely inconvenient to him. To Titmarsh's astonishment the 
 reply of his creditor was, ' Mon Dieu, sir, let not that annoy you. 
 If you want money, as a gentleman often does in a strange country, 
 I have a thousand-franc note at my house which is quite at your 
 service.' The generous offer was accepted. The coin which, in 
 proof of the tailor's esteem for his customer, was advanced without 
 any interest, was duly repaid together with the account ; but the 
 circumstance could not be forgotten. The person obliged felt 
 how becoming it was to acknowledge and praise virtue, as he slily 
 said, wherever he might find it, and to point it out for the admira- 
 tion and example of his fellow-men. Accordingly, he determined 
 to dedicate his first book to the generous tailor, giving at full 
 length his name and address. In the dedicatory letter, he accor- 
 dingly alludes to this anecdote, adding — 
 
 ' History or experience, sir, makes us acquainted with so few 
 actions that can be compared to yours ; a kindness like yours, 
 from a stranger and a tailor, seems to me so astonishing, that you 
 must pardon me for thus making your virtue public, and acquaint- 
 ing the English nation with your merit and your name. Let me 
 add, sir, that you live on the first floor ; that your clothes and fit 
 are excellent, and your charges moderate and just; and, as a 
 humble tribute of my admiration, permit me to lay these volumes 
 at your feet. 
 
 < Your obliged, faithful servant, 
 
 ' ' M. A. TlTMARSH.' 
 
 A second edition of the ' Paris Sketch Book ' was announced 
 by the publisher, Macrone — the same publisher who had a few 
 years before given to the world the * Sketches by Boz,' the first of 
 Dickens' publications ; but the second edition was probably only 
 one of those conventional fictions with which the spirits of young 
 authors are sustained. Though containing many flashes of the 
 
COMIC TALES AND SKETCHES: 
 
 155 
 
 Titmarsh humour, many eloquent passages, and much interesting 
 reading of a light kind, the public took but a passing interest in 
 it. Years after, in quoting its title, the author good-humouredly 
 remarked, in a parenthesis, that some copies, he believed, might 
 still be found unsold at the publisher's ; but the book was for- 
 gotten and most of its contents were rejected by the writer when 
 preparing his selected miscellanies for the press. A similar couple 
 
 General Bonaparte 
 
 of volumes, published by Cunningham in 1841, under the title of 
 1 Comic Tales and Sketches, edited and illustrated by Mr. Michael 
 Angelo Titmarsh/ and an independent republication, also in two 
 volumes, of the < Yellowplush Papers,' from < Fraser,' were some- 
 what more successful. The former contained ' Major Gahagan T 
 and the 'Bedford-row Conspiracy,' reprinted from the 'New 
 Monthly;' ' Stubbs's Calendar, or the Fatal Boots,' from Cruik- 
 
I5 6 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 shank's ' Comic Almanack ;' some amusing criticisms on the ' Sea 
 Captain/ and ' Lady Charlotte Bury's Diary, ' and other papers 
 from ' Fraser.' The illustrations to the volumes were tinted etch- 
 ings of a somewhat more careful character than those unfinished 
 artistic drolleries in which he generally indulged. A brace of 
 portraits of Dr. Lardner and Bulwer may be reckoned in the great 
 humourist's happiest caricature vein. 
 
 In December 1840 he again visited Paris, and remained there 
 until the summer of the following year. He was in that city on 
 the memorable occasion of the second funeral of Napoleon, or the 
 ceremony of conveying the remains of that great warrior, of whom, 
 as a child, he had obtained a living glimpse, to their last resting- 
 place at the Hotel des Invalides. An account of that ceremony, in 
 the form of a letter to Miss Smith, was published by Macrone. It 
 was a small square pamphlet, chiefly memorable now as containing 
 at the end his remarkable poem of the ' Chronicle of the Drum.' 
 About this time he advertised, as preparing for immediate publica- 
 tion, a book entitled ' Dinner Reminiscences, or the Young Gour- 
 mandiser's Guide at Paris, by Mr. M. A. Titmarsh.' It was to be 
 issued by Hugh Cunningham, the publisher, of St. Martin's Place, 
 Trafalgar Square, but we believe was never published. 
 
 It was in the September number of ' Fraser,' for 1841, that he 
 commenced his story of the ' History of Samuel Titmarsh, and the 
 Great Hoggarty Diamond,' which, though it failed to achieve 
 an extraordinary popularity, first convinced that select few who 
 judge for themselves in matters of literature and art, of the great 
 power and promise of the unknown ' Titmarsh.' Carlyle, in his 
 ' Life of John Sterling,' quotes the following remarkable passage 
 from a letter of the latter to his mother, written at this period : — 
 ' I have seen no new books, but am reading your last. I got hold 
 of the two first numbers of the " Hoggarty Diamond," and read 
 them with extreme delight. What is there better in Fielding or 
 Goldsmith ? The man is a true genius, and with quiet and comfort 
 might produce masterpieces that would last as long as any we have, 
 and delight millions of unborn readers. There is more truth and 
 
 nature in one of these papers than in all 's novels put together.' 
 
 ' Thackeray (adds Carlyle), always a close friend of the Sterling 
 House, will observe that this is dated 1841, not 185 1, and will 
 have his own reflections on the matter.' The ' Hoggarty Diamond ' 
 
* CARMEN LILLIENSE: 157 
 
 was continued in the numbers for October and November, and 
 completed in December 1841. In the number for June of the 
 following year, ' Fitzboodle's Confessions ' were commenced, and 
 were continued at intervals down to the end of 1843. The ' Irish 
 Sketch Book/ in two volumes, detailing an Irish tour, was also 
 published in the latter year. The ' Sketch Book ; did not at the 
 time attract much attention. The ' Luck of Barry Lyndon/ by 
 many considered the most original of his writings, was begun and 
 finished at No. 88, St. James Street, previously known as the Conser- 
 vative Club, where at this time he occupied chambers. The first 
 part appeared in 'Fraser' for January 1844, and was continued 
 regularly every month, till its completion in the December number. 
 He was engaged a short time before this as assistant editor of the 
 'Examiner' newspaper, to which journal he contributed numerous 
 articles ; and among his papers in ' Fraser ' and other magazines 
 of the same period, we find, ' Memorials of Gourmandising / ' Pic- 
 torial Rhapsodies on the Exhibitions of Paintings ;■' ' Bluebeard's 
 Ghost;' a satirical article on Grant's 'Paris and the Parisians;' a 
 'Review of a Box of Novels' (already quoted from); 'Little 
 Travels and Roadside Sketches ' (chiefly in Belgium) ; ' The 
 Partie Fine, by Lancelot WagstafP— a comic story, with a sequel 
 entitled 'Arabella, or the Moral of the Partie Fine ;' 'Carmen 
 Lilliense/ 'Picture Gossip ;' more comic sketches, with the titles 
 of < The Chest of Cigars, by Lancelot Wagstaff ;' ' Bob Robinson's 
 First Love ; ' and ' Barmecide Banquets/ and an admirable satirical 
 review entitled ' A Gossip about Christmas Books/ 
 
 The ' Carmen Lilliense ' will be well remembered by the 
 readers of the 'Miscellanies/ published in 1857, in which it was 
 included. Thackeray 'was in the north of France and in Bel- 
 gium about the period when it is dated (2nd September, 1843); 
 and the ballad describes a real accident which befell him, though 
 doubtless somewhat heightened in effect. It tells how, leaving 
 Paris with only twenty pounds in his pocket, for a trip in Belgium, 
 he arrived at Antwerp, where, feeling for his purse, he found it had 
 vanished with the entire amount of his little treasure. Some 
 rascal on the road had picked his pocket, and nothing was left but 
 to borrow ten guineas of a friend whom he met, and to write a 
 note to England addressed to ' Grandmamma/ for whom we may 
 probably read some other member of the Titmarsh family. The 
 
i 5 8 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ten guineas, however, were soon gone, and the sensitive Titmarsh 
 found himself in a position of great delicacy. What was to be 
 done? 'To stealing,' says the ballad, 'he could never come.' 
 To pawn his watch he felt himself ' too genteel ; ' besides, he had 
 left his watch at home, which at once put an end to any debates 
 on this point. There was nothing to do but to wait for the remit- 
 
 Memorials of gourmandising 
 
 tance, and beguile the time with a poetical description of his woes. 
 The guests around him ask for their bills. Titmarsh is in agonies. 
 The landlord regards him as a ' Lord Anglais,' serves him with the 
 best of meat and drink, and is proud of his patronage. A sense of 
 being a kind of impostor weighs upon him. The landlord's eye 
 became painful to look at. Opposite is a dismal building — the 
 prison-house of Lille, where, by a summary process, familiar to 
 
INTEREST EXCITED IN TITMARSH. 159 
 
 French law, foreigners who run in debt without the means of paying 
 may be lodged. He is almost tempted to go into the old Flemish 
 church and invoke the saints there after the fashion of the country. 
 One of their pictures on the walls becomes, in his imagination, 
 like the picture of ' Grandmamma/ with a smile upon its coun- 
 tenance. Delightful dream ! and one of good omen. He returns 
 to his hotel, and there to his relief finds the long-expected letter, 
 in the well-known hand, addressed to * Mr. M. A. Titmarsh, 
 Lille.' He obtains the means of redeeming his credit, bids fare- 
 well to his host without any exposure, takes the diligence, and is 
 restored to his home that evening. Such are the humorous exag- 
 gerations with which he depicts his temporary troubles at Lille, in 
 the shape of a ballad, originally intended, we believe, for the 
 amusement of his family, but finally inserted in ' Fraser.' 
 
 It was in July 1844 that Thackeray started on a tour in the 
 East — the result of a hasty invitation, and of a present of a free 
 pass from a friend connected with the Peninsular and Oriental 
 Steam Navigation Company. His sudden departure, upon less 
 than thirty- six hours' notice, is pleasantly detailed in the preface to 
 his book, published at Christmas, 1845, with the title of ' Notes of 
 a Journey from Cornhill to Grand Cairo by way of Lisbon, Athens, 
 Constantinople, and Jerusalem : performed in the steamers of the 
 Peninsular and Oriental Company. By M. A. Titmarsh, author of 
 the " Irish Sketch Book," &c.' 
 
 The book was illustrated with coloured drawings by the author, 
 treating, in a not exaggerated vein of fun, the peculiarities of the 
 daily life of the East. The little book was well received, and in 
 the reviews of it there is evidence of the growing interest of the 
 public in the writer. For the first time it presented him to his 
 readers in his true name, for though the ' Titmarsh ' fiction is pre- 
 served on the title-page, the prefatory matter is signed ' W. M. 
 Thackeray.' 
 
 1 " Who is Titmarsh ? " says one of his critics at this time. 
 Such is the ejaculatory formula in which public curiosity gives vent 
 to its ignorant impatience of pseudonymous renown. " Who is 
 Michael Angelo Titmarsh?" Such is the note of interrogation 
 which has been heard at intervals these several seasons back, 
 among groups of elderly loungers in that row of clubs, Pall Mall ; 
 from fairy lips, as the light wheels whirled along the row called 
 
i6o 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 " Rotten;" and oft amid keen-eyed men in that grandfather of 
 rows which the children of literature call Paternoster. . . . 
 
 1 This problem has been variously and conflictingly solved, as 
 in the parallel case of the grim old stat nominis umbra. There is 
 a hint in both instances of some mysterious connection with the 
 remote regions of Bengal, and an erect old pigtail of the E.I.C.S. 
 boasts in the " horizontal " jungle off Hanover Square, of having 
 had the dubious advantage of his personal acquaintanceship in 
 Upper India, where his I O U's were signed 
 Major Goliah Gahagan ; and several speci- 
 mens of that documentary character, in good 
 preservation, he offers at a low figure to 
 amateurs.' 
 
 The foundation in 1841 of a weekly pe- 
 riodical, serving as a vehicle for the circu- 
 lation of the lighter papers of humourists, 
 had unquestionably an important influence 
 in the development of his talents and fame. 
 From an early date he was connected with 
 ' Punch,' at first as the ' Fat Contributor,' 
 and soon after as the author of 'Jeames's 
 Diary ' and the ' Snob Papers.' If satire 
 could do aught to check the pride of the 
 vulgar upstart, or shame social hypocrisy into 
 truth and simplicity, these writings would 
 accomplish the task. In fact, Thackeray's name was now be- 
 coming known, and people began to distinguish and enquire for 
 his contributions ; his illustrations in ' Punch ' being as funny as 
 his articles were. The series called 'Jeames's Diary' caused 
 great amusement and no little flutter in high polite circles, for the 
 deposition from the throne of railwaydom of the famous original 
 of ' Jeames de la Pluche ' had hardly then begun, though it was 
 probably accelerated by the universal titters of recognition which 
 welcomed the weekly accounts of the changing fortunes of 
 ' Jeames.' 
 
 The Majc 
 
i6i 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Increasing reputation — Later writings in 'Fraser'— 'Mrs. Perkins's Ball,' with 
 Thackeray's illustrations — Early Vicissitudes of ' Pencil Sketches of English 
 Society ' — Thackeray's connection with the Temple — Appearance of ' Vanity 
 Fair ' with the Author's original illustrations— Appreciative notice in the 
 * Edinburgh Review ' — The impression produced — 'Our Street,' with Tit- 
 marsh's Pencillings of some of its Inhabitants — The 'History of Pendennis,' 
 illustrated by the Author — ' Dr. Birch and his Young Friends,' with illus- 
 trations by M. A. Titmarsh — 'Rebecca and Rowena' — The Dignity of 
 Literature and the ' Examiner ' and ' Morning Chronicle ' newspapers — 
 Sensitiveness to Hostile Criticism — The 'Kickleburys on the Rhine,' with 
 illustrations by M. A. Titmarsh — Adverse bias of the ' Times ' newspaper — 
 Thackeray's reply — An ' Essay on Thunder and Small Beer.' 
 
 The great work, however, which was to stamp the name of 
 Thackeray for ever in the minds of English readers was yet to 
 come. Hitherto all his writings had been brief and desultory, but 
 in contributing to magazines his style had gradually matured itself. 
 That ease of expression, and that repose which seems so full of 
 power, were never more exemplified than in some of his latest 
 essays in ' Fraser,' before book writing had absorbed all his time. 
 His articles on Sir E. B. Lytton's ' Memoir of Laman Blanchard,' 
 his paper on ' Illustrated Children's Books,' his satirical proposal 
 to Mons. Alexandre Dumas for a continuation of ' Ivanhoe,' all 
 contributed to 'Fraser' in 1846, and his article— we believe the 
 last which he wrote for that periodical— entitled ' A Grumble 
 about Christmas Books,' published in January 1847, are equal to 
 anything in his later works. The first-mentioned of these papers, 
 indeed — the remonstrance with Laman Blanchard's biographer — 
 is unsurpassed for the eloquence of its defence of the calling of 
 men of letters, and for the tenderness and manly simplicity with 
 which it touches on the history of the unfortunate subject of the 
 memoir. 
 
 M 
 
1 62 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ' Mrs. Perkins's Ball,' a Christmas book, was published in 
 December 1846. But its author had long been preparing for a 
 more serious undertaking. Some time before, he had sketched 
 some chapters entitled ' Pencil Sketches of English Society,' which 
 he had offered to Colburn for insertion in the 'New Monthly 
 Magazine.' It formed a portion of a continuous story, of a 
 length not yet determined, and was rejected by Colburn after 
 consideration. The papers which Thackeray had previously 
 contributed to the 'New Monthly' were chiefly slight comic 
 stories — perhaps the least favourable specimens of his powers. 
 They were, indeed, not superior to the common run of magazine 
 papers, and were certainly not equal to his contributions to 
 ' Fraser.' In fact, as a contributor to the 'New Monthly' he 
 had achieved no remarkable success, and his papers appear to 
 have been little in demand there. Whether the manuscript had 
 been offered to ' Fraser '—the magazine in which ' Titmarsh ' had 
 secured popularity, and where he was certainly more at home — we 
 cannot say. Happily, the author of ' Pencil Sketches of English 
 Society,' though suspending his projected work, did not abandon 
 it. He saw in its opening chapters — certainly not the best por- 
 tions of the story when completed — the foundations of a work 
 which was to secure him at last a fame among contemporary 
 writers in his own proper name. The success of Dickens's shilling 
 monthly parts suggested to him to make it the commence- 
 ment of a substantive work of fiction, to be published month by 
 month, with illustrations by the author. The work grew up by 
 degrees, and finally took shape under the better title of 'Vanity 
 Fair.' It was during this time, the latter part of 1846, that he 
 removed to his house at No. 13 Young Street, Kensington, a 
 favourite locality with him, in which house he resided for some 
 years. He also at this time occupied chambers at No. 10 Crown- 
 office Row, Temple, the comfortable retirement which, ' up four 
 pair of stairs,' with its grand view, when the sun was shining, of 
 the chimney-pots over the way, he has himself described. His 
 friend Tom Taylor, the well-known dramatist and biographer, 
 had chambers in the same house ; and we believe, on the demoli- 
 tion of No. 10 Crown-office Row, wrote a poem, published in the 
 pages of ' Punch,' in which, if we remember rightly, mention is 
 made of the fact of Thackeray's having resided there. Thackeray 
 
' VANITY FAIR: r 6 3 
 
 was called to the bar by the Honourable Society of the Middle 
 Temple in 1848, though he never practised, and probably never 
 intended to do so. The Benchers, however, were not insensible 
 to the addition to the numerous literary associations with their 
 venerable and quiet retreat which they thus gained. After his 
 death there was some proposition to bury him in the Temple, of 
 which he was a member, amid (as Spenser says) — 
 
 Those bricky towers 
 The which on Thames' broad back do ride, 
 Where now the student lawyers have their bowers, 
 Where whilom wont the Templar Knights to bide, 
 Till they decayed through pride. 
 
 There Goldsmith is buried, and Thackeray's ashes would have 
 been fitly laid near those of the author of the ' Vicar of Wakefield/ 
 whose brilliant genius he so heartily eulogised, and whose many 
 shortcomings he so tenderly touched upon, in the ' Lectures on 
 the Humourists.' But, after consultation with his relations, it was 
 deemed better that he should rest with his own family in Kensal 
 Green. Pending this decision, the sanction of the Benchers to 
 interment within the precincts of the Temple Church had been 
 asked and cheerfully accorded ; and when the Kensal Green 
 Cemetery was finally decided upon, the Benchers were requested 
 to permit the erection of a memorial slab in their church. Their 
 reply to this was, that not only should they be honoured by such 
 a memento, but that, if allowed, they would have it erected at 
 their own cost.* 
 
 The first monthly portion of ' Vanity Fair ' was published on 
 February 1, 1847, in the yellow wrapper which served to distinguish 
 it from Charles Dickens's stories, and 
 which afterwards became the standard 
 colour for the covers of Thackeray's 
 serial stories. The work was continued 
 monthly, and finished with the number 
 for July of the following year. Thack- 
 eray's friends, and all those who had 
 
 ji-ii- vi • i • i_ ±. The Order of the Bath 
 
 watched his career with special interest, 
 
 saw in it at once a work of greater promise than any that had 
 
 * Letter of Edmund Yates in the Belfast Whig. 
 
 M 2 
 
164 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 appeared since the dawn of his great contemporary's fame ; but 
 the critical journals received it somewhat coldly. There were 
 indeed few tokens of its future success in the tone of its reception 
 at this early period. 
 
 It is generally acknowledged that to the thoughtful and appre- 
 ciative article in the ' Edinburgh Review' of January 1848, which 
 dealt with the first eleven numbers of the work only, is due the 
 
 merit of authoritatively calling atten- 
 tion to the great power it displayed. 
 The writer was evidently one who 
 knew Thackeray well ; for he gives 
 a sketch of his life, and mentions 
 having met him some years before, 
 painting in the Louvre in Paris. ' In 
 forming,' says this judicious critic, 
 ' our general estimate of this writer, 
 we wish to be understood as refer- 
 ring principally, if not exclusively, to 
 " Vanity Fair " (a novel in monthly 
 parts), which, though still unfinished, 
 is immeasurably superior, in our 
 opinion, to every other known pro- 
 duction of his pen. The great charm 
 of this work is its entire freedom 
 from mannerism and affectation both 
 in style and sentiment — the confiding frankness with which the 
 reader is addressed — the thoroughbred carelessness with which 
 the author permits the thoughts and feelings suggested by the 
 situations to flow in their natural channel, as if conscious that 
 nothing mean or unworthy, nothing requiring to be shaded, gilded, 
 or dressed up in company attire, could fall from him. In a word, 
 the book is the work of a gentleman, which is one great merit, 
 and not the work of a fine (or would-be fine) gentleman, which is 
 another. Then, again, he never exhausts, elaborates, or insists 
 too much upon anything ; he drops his finest remarks and hap- 
 piest illustrations as Buckingham dropped his pearls, and leaves 
 them to be picked up and appreciated as chance may bring a dis- 
 criminating observer to the spot. His effects are uniformly the 
 effects of sound, wholesome, legitimate art ; and we need hardly 
 
 The British Army 
 
SUCCESS OF ' VANITY FAIR: 
 
 165 
 
 add, that we are never harrowed up with physical horrors of the 
 Eugene Sue school in his writings, or that there are no melodra- 
 matic villains to be found in them. One touch of nature makes 
 the whole world kin, and here are touches of nature by the dozen. 
 His pathos (though not so deep as Dickens's) is exquisite; the 
 more so, perhaps, because he seems to struggle against it, and to 
 be half ashamed of being caught in the melting mood ; but the 
 attempt to be caustic, satirical, ironical, or philosophical, on such 
 occasions, is uniformly vain ; and again and again have we found 
 reason to admire bow an originally fine and kind nature remains 
 essentially free from worldliness, and, in the highest pride of intel- 
 lect, pays homage to the heart.' 
 
 Sir Hector 
 
 It was at this time, his friend Hannay tells us, that he first 
 had the pleasure of seeing him. ' " Vanity Fair," ; he adds, ' was 
 then unfinished, but its success was made ; and he spoke frankly 
 and genially of his work and his career. " Vanity Fair " always, 
 we think, ranked in his own mind as best in story of his greater 
 books ; and he once pointed out to us the very house in Russell 
 
[66 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 Square where his imaginary Sedleys lived — a curious proof of the 
 reality his creations had for his mind.' The same writer tells us 
 that when he congratulated Thackeray, many years ago, on the 
 touch in ' Vanity Fair ' in which Becky admires her husband when 
 he is giving Lord Steyne the chastisement which ruins her for life, 
 the author answered with that fervour as well as heartiness of 
 frankness which distinguished him : ' Well, when I wrote the sen- 
 tence, I slapped my fist on the table, and said, " That is a touch 
 of genius ! '" ' Vanity Fair ' soon rose rapidly in public favour, and 
 a new work from the pen of its author was eagerly looked for. 
 
 During the time of publication of ' Vanity Fair' he had found 
 time to write and publish the little Christmas book entitled < Our 
 
 Sensitive to a point 
 
 Street,' which appeared in December 1847, and reached a second 
 edition soon after Christmas. * Vanity Fair ' was followed in 1849 
 by another long work of fiction, entitled the ' History of Pen- 
 dennis ; his Fortunes and Misfortunes, his Friends and his Greatest 
 Enemy ; with Illustrations by the Author ; ' which was completed 
 in two volumes. In this year, too, he published ' Dr. Birch ' and 
 ' Rebecca and Rowena.' It was during the publication of ' Pen- 
 dennis ' that a criticism in the ' Morning Chronicle ' and in the 
 ' Examiner ' newspapers drew from him a remarkable letter on the 
 ' Dignity of Literature,' addressed to the editor of the former 
 journal. 
 
 It was a peculiarity of Thackeray to feel annoyed at adverse 
 criticism, and to show his annoyance in a way which more cautious 
 
THE ' KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE: 
 
 167 
 
 men generally abstain from. He did not conceal his feeling 
 when an unjust attack was levelled at him in an influential journal. 
 He was not one of those rem onstra tors who never see anything 
 in the papers, but have their attention called to them by friends. 
 If he had seen, he frankly avowed that he had seen the attack, and 
 did not scruple to reply if he had an opportunity, and the influence 
 of the journal or reviewer made it worth while. With the * Times ' 
 he had had very early a bout of this kind. When the little account 
 of the funeral of Napoleon in 1840 was published, the ' Times,' as 
 
 A Rhinelander 
 
 he said, rated him. and talked in ' its own great roaring way about 
 the flippancy and conceit of Titmarsh,' to which he had replied by 
 a sharp paragraph or two. In 1850 a very elaborate attack in the 
 chief journal roused his satirical humour more completely. The 
 article which contained the offence was on the subject of his 
 Christmas book, entitled the ' Kickleburys on the Rhine,' pub- 
 lished in December 1850, upon which a criticism appeared in that 
 journal, beginning with the following passage : — 
 
 ' It has been customary, of late years, for the purveyors of 
 amusing literature — the popular authors of the day — to put forth 
 
i68 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 certain opuscles, denominated " Christmas Books," with the osten- 
 sible intention of swelling the tide of exhilaration, or other expan- 
 sive emotions, incident upon the exodus of the old and the 
 inauguration of the new year. We have said that their ostensible 
 intention was such, because there is another motive for these pro- 
 ductions, locked up (as the popular author deems) in his own breast, 
 but which betrays itself, in the quality of the work, as his principal 
 incentive. Oh ! that any muse should be set upon a high stool 
 
 Over-weighted 
 
 to cast up accounts and balance a ledger ! Yet so it is ; and 
 the popular author finds it convenient to fill up the declared deficit 
 and place himself in a position the more effectually to encounter 
 those liabilities which sternly assert themselves contemporaneously 
 and in contrast with the careless and free-handed tendencies of the 
 season by the emission of Christmas books — a kind of literary 
 assighats, representing to the emitter expunged debts, to the 
 receiver an investment of enigmatical value. For the most part 
 bearing the stamp of their origin in the vacuity of the writer's 
 exchequer rather than in the fulness of his genius, they suggest by 
 
CRITICISMS OF THE 'TIMES.' 
 
 .69 
 
 their feeble flavour the rinsings of a void brain after the more 
 important concoctions of the expired year. Indeed, we should as 
 little think of taking these compositions as examples of the merits 
 of their authors as we should think of measuring the valuable 
 services of Mr. Walker the postman, or Mr. Bell the dust-collector, 
 by the copy of verses they leave at our doors as a provocative 
 of the expected annual gratuity — effusions with which they may 
 
 Too much for his horse 
 
 fairly be classed for their intrinsic worth no less than their ultimate 
 purport' 
 
 Upon this, and upon some little peculiarities of style in the 
 review, such as a passage in which the learned critic compared the 
 author's satirical attempts to * the sardonic divings after the pearl 
 of truth whose lustre is eclipsed in the display of the diseased 
 oyster,' Thackeray replied in the preface to a second edition 
 of the little book, published a few days later, and entitled an 
 ' Essay on Thunder and Small Beer.' The style of the ' Times ' 
 critique, which was generally attributed to Samuel Phillips, 
 
1 70 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 afforded too tempting a subject for the satirical pen of the au- 
 thor of ' Vanity Fair/ to be passed over. The easy humour with 
 which he exposes the pompous affectation of superiority in his 
 critic, the tawdry sentences and droll logic of his censor, whom 
 he likened not to the awful thunderer of Printing House Square, 
 but to the thunderer's man, ' Jupiter Jeames, trying to dazzle and 
 roar like his awful employer,' afforded the town, through the 
 newspapers which copied the essay, an amount of amusement 
 not often derived from an author's defence of himself from adverse 
 criticism. 
 
 The essay was remembered long after, when work after work of 
 the offending author was severely handled in the same paper ; and 
 the recollection of it gave a shadow of support to the theory 
 by which some persons, on the occasion of Thackeray's death, 
 endeavoured to explain the fact that the obituary notice in the 
 ' Times,' and the account of his funeral, were more curt than those 
 of any other journal; while the 'Times' alone, of all the daily 
 papers, omitted to insert a leading article on the subject of the 
 great loss which had been sustained by the world of letters. 
 
i7i 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Commencement of the Series of Early Essayists — Thackeray as a Lecturer — 
 The ' English Humourists of the Eighteenth Century '— Charlotte Bronte at 
 Thackeray's readings — The Lectures repeated in Edinburgh — An invitation 
 to visit America — Transatlantic popularity— Special success attending the 
 reception of the ' English Humourists ' in the States — ' Week-day Preachers' 
 — Enthusiastic Farewell- -Appleton's New York edition of Thackeray's 
 works ; the Author's introduction, and remarks on International Copyright — 
 Thackeray's departure— Cordial impression bequeathed to America— The 
 'History of Henry Esmond, a story of Queen Anne's Reign '—The writers of 
 the Augustan Era— The ' Newcomes ' — An allusion to George Washington 
 misunderstood— A second visit to America— Lectures on the 'Four Georges' 
 — The series repeated at home— Scotch sympathy— Thackeray proposed as 
 a candidate to represent Oxford in Parliament -His liberal views and 
 impartiality. 
 
 In 185 i Thackeray appeared in an entirely new character, but 
 one which subsequently proved so lucrative to him, that to 
 this cause, even more than to the labours of his pen, must be attri- 
 buted that easy fortune which he had accumulated before he died. 
 In May he commenced the delivery of a series of lectures on the 
 English Humourists. The subjects were — Swift, Congreve and 
 Addison ; Steele ; Prior, Gay and Pope ; Hogarth, Smollett and 
 Fielding, and Sterne and "Goldsmith. The lectures were delivered 
 at Willis's Rooms. The price of admission was high, and the 
 audience was numerous, and of the most select kind. It was 
 not composed of that sort of people who crowd to pick up in- 
 formation in the shape of facts with which they have been pre- 
 viously unacquainted, but those who, knowing the eminence of 
 the lecturer, wished to hear his opinion on a subject of national 
 interest. One of the two great humourists of the present age was 
 about to utter his sentiments on the humourists of the age now 
 terminated, and the occasion was sufficient to create an interest 
 
172 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 which not even the attractive power of the Great Exhibition, then 
 open, could check. The newspapers complained slightly of the low 
 key in which the lecturer spoke, from which cause many of his best 
 points were sometimes lost to the more distant of his auditors. 
 ' In other respects,' says a newspaper report, 'we cannot too highly 
 praise the style of his delivery/ Abstaining from rant and gesticu- 
 lation he relied for his effect on the matter which he uttered, and 
 it was singular to see how the isolated pictures by a few magic 
 touches descended into the hearts of his hearers. Among the 
 most conspicuous of the literary ladies at this gathering was Miss 
 Bronte, the authoress of ' Jane Eyre.' She had never before seen 
 the author of ' Vanity Fair,' though she had dedicated the second 
 edition of her own celebrated novel to him, with the assurance 
 that she regarded him ' as the social regenerator of his day — as the 
 very master of that working corps who would restore to rectitude 
 the warped state of things.' Mrs. Gaskell tells us that, when the 
 lecture was over, the lecturer descended from the platform, and 
 making his way towards her, frankly asked her for her opinion. 
 ' This,' adds Miss Bronte's biographer, ' she mentioned to me not 
 many days afterwards, adding remarks almost identical with those 
 which I subsequently read in " Villette," where a similar action on 
 the part of M. Paul Emanuel is related.' The remarks of this 
 singular woman upon Thackeray and his writings, and her ac- 
 counts of her interviews with him, are curious, and will be found 
 scattered through Mrs. Gaskell's popular biography. Readers of 
 the ' Cornhill Magazine ' will not have forgotten Thackeray's affec- 
 tionate and discriminating sketch of her, which appeared some 
 years later in that periodical. 
 
 The course was perfectly successful, and the Lectures, subse- 
 quently reprinted, rank among the most masterly of his writings. 
 They were delivered again soon afterwards in some of the provin- 
 cial cities, including Edinburgh. A droll anecdote was related 
 at this peiiod in the newspapers, in connection with one of these 
 provincial appearances. Previously to delivering them in Scot- 
 land, the lecturer bethought himself of addressing them to the rising 
 youth of our two great nurseries of the national mind ; and it was 
 necessary, before appearing at Oxford, to obtain the licence of the 
 authorities — a very laudable arrangement, of course. The Duke of 
 Wellington was the Chancellor, who, if applied to, would doubtless 
 
GENIAL RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 173 
 
 have understood at once the man and his business. The Duke 
 lived in the broad atmosphere of the every -day world, and a copy 
 of ' Vanity Fair ; was on a snug shelf at Walmer Castle. But his 
 deputy at Oxford, on whom the modest applicant waited, knew 
 less about such trifles as ' Vanity Fair ' and ' Pendennis.' ' Pray 
 what can I do to serve you, sir?' enquired the bland functionary. 
 1 My name is Thackeray.' ' So I see by this card.' ' I seek per- 
 mission to lecture within the precincts.' ' Ah ! you are a lecturer; 
 what subjects do you undertake — religious or political ? ' ' Nei- 
 ther ; I am a literary man.' ' Have you written anything ? ' 
 ' Yes ; I am the author of " Vanity* Fair." ' 1 1 presume a dis- 
 senter — has that anything to do with John Bunyan's book?' 
 1 Not exactly ; I have also written " Pendennis." ' l Never heard 
 of these works ; but no doubt they are proper books.' ' I have 
 also contributed to " Punch." ' * " Punch ! " I have heard of 
 that ; is it not a ribald publication ? ' 
 
 An invitation to deliver the lectures in America speedily fol- 
 lowed. The public interest which heralded his coming in the 
 United States was such as could hardly have been expected for a 
 writer of fiction who had won his fame by so little appeal to the 
 love of exciting scenes. His visit (as an American critic remarked 
 at the time) at least demonstrated that if they were unwilling to 
 pay English authors for their books, they were ready to reward 
 them handsomely for the opportunity of seeing and hearing them. 
 
 At first the public feeling on the other side of the Atlantic had 
 been very much divided as to his probable reception. ' He'll 
 come and humbug us, eat our dinners, pocket our money, and go 
 home and abuse us. like Dickens,' said Jonathan, chafing with the 
 remembrance of that grand ball at the Park Theatre, and the Boz 
 tableaux, and the universal speaking and dining, to which the 
 author of ' Pickwick' was subject while he was their guest, ' Let 
 him have his say,' said others, ' and we will have our look. We 
 will pay a dollar to hear him, if we can see him at the same time ; 
 and as for the abuse, why it takes even more than two such cubs 
 of the roaring British lion to frighten the American eagle. Let 
 him come, and give him fair play.' He did come, and certainly 
 had fair play ; and as certainly there was no disappointment with 
 his lectures. Those who knew his books found the author in the 
 lecturer. Those who did not know the books, savs one enthu- 
 
174 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 siastic critic, ' were charmed in the lecturer by what is charming in 
 
 the author — the unaffected humanity, 
 
 the tenderness, the sweetness, the genial 
 
 play of fancy, and the sad touch of truth, 
 
 with that glancing stroke of satire which, 
 
 lightning-like, illumines while it withers.' 
 
 He did not visit the West, nor Canada. 
 
 He went home without seeing Niagara 
 
 Falls. But wherever he did go, he found 
 
 a generous social welcome, and a re- 
 spectful and sympathetic hearing. He 
 
 came to fulfil no mission ; but it was 
 
 felt that his visit had knit more closely 
 
 the sympathy of the Americans with 
 
 Englishmen. Heralded by various ro- 
 mantic memoirs, he smiled at them, 
 
 stoutly asserted that he had been always 
 
 able to command a good dinner, and to 
 
 pay for it, nor did he seek to disguise 
 
 that he hoped his American tour would 
 
 help him to command and pay for more. 
 
 He promised not to write a book about 
 
 the Americans, and he kept his word. 
 His first lecture was delivered to 
 
 November 19 he commenced his lectures before the Mercantile 
 
 Library Association, in the spacious 
 New York church belonging to the 
 congregation presided over by the 
 Rev. Dr. Chapin. 
 
 Before many days the publishers 
 told the world that the subject of 
 Thackeray's talk had given rise to 
 a Swift and Congreve and Addi- 
 son furore. The booksellers were 
 driving a thrifty trade in forgotten 
 volumes of ' Old English Essayists ; ' 
 the ' Spectator ' found its way again 
 to the parlour tables : old Sir Roger 
 from his long sleep. 'Tristram 
 
 An old English gentleman 
 
 a crowded audience : on 
 
 Another ' Spectator ' 
 
 de Coverley was waked 
 
 up 
 
GENIAL RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 175 
 
 Shandy ' even was almost forgiven his lewdness, and the Ass 
 of Melun and Poor Le Fevre were studied wistfully, and placed 
 on the library table between ' Gulliver ' and the ' Rake's Progress.' 
 Girls were working Maria's pet lamb upon their samplers, and 
 hundreds of Lilliput literary ladies were twitching the mammoth 
 Gulliver's whiskers. 
 
 The newspaper gossipers were no less busy in noting every 
 personal characteristic of the author. One remarks : ' As for the 
 man himself who has lectured us, he is a stout, healthful, broad- 
 shouldered specimen of a man, with cropped greyish hair, and 
 keenish grey eyes, peering very sharply through a pair of spec- 
 tacles that have a very satiric focus. He seems to stand strongly 
 on his own feet, as if he would not be easily blown about or upset, 
 either by praise or pugilists ; a man of good digestion, who takes 
 the world easy, and scents all shams and humours (straightening 
 them between his thumb and forefinger) as he would a pinch 
 of snuff.' A London letter of the time says : •' The New York 
 journalists preserve, on the whole, a delicate silence (very credit- 
 able to them) on the subject of Mr. Thack- 
 eray's nose ; but they are eloquent about his 
 legs ; and when the last mail left a contro- 
 versy was raging among them on this matter, 
 one party maintaining that " he stands very 
 firm on his legs," while the opposition as- 
 serted that his legs were decidedly " shaky." ' 
 
 These, however, were light matters com- 
 pared with the notices in other newspapers, 
 which unscrupulously raked together, for the 
 amusement of their readers, details which 
 were mostly untrue, and where true, were of 
 too private a character for public discussion. 
 This led to a humorous remonstrance, for- 
 warded by Thackeray to ' Eraser's Maga- 
 zine,' where it appeared with the signature 
 of 'John Small.' In this he gave a droll 
 parody of his newspaper biographers' style, 
 which caused some resentment on the part of the writers 
 attacked. One Transatlantic defender of the New York 
 press said that ' the two most personal accounts of Thackeray 
 
1 76 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 published appeared in one of the Liverpool papers, and in 
 the London "Spectator;"' adding, 'the London correspondents 
 of some of the provincial papers spare nothing of fact or comment 
 touching the private life of public characters. Nay, are there not 
 journals expressly devoted to the contemporary biography of 
 titled, wealthy, and consequential personages, which will tell you 
 how, and in what company, they eat, drink, and travel; their 
 itinerary from the country to London, and from the metropolis to 
 the Continent; the probable marriages, alliances, &c. ? No 
 journal can be better acquainted with these conditions of English 
 society than the classical and vivacious "Fraser." Why, then, 
 does John Small address that London editor from New York, 
 converting some paltry and innocent-enough penny-a-liner notice 
 of the author of " Vanity Fair " into an enormous national sin and 
 delinquency?' Among the lectures delivered at New York, before 
 he quitted the gay circles of the ' Empire City ' for Boston, was 
 one in behalf of a charity; and the charity lecture was stated to 
 be a melange of all the others, closing very appropriately with an 
 animated tribute to the various literary, social, and humane 
 qualities of Charles Dickens. ' Papa,' he described his daughter 
 as exclaiming, with childish candour ; ' papa, I like Mr. Dickens's 
 book much better than yours.' 
 
 The remonstrance of John Small in ' Fraser/ however, did not 
 conclude without a warm acknowledgment of the general kindness 
 he had received in America, thus feelingly expressed in his last 
 lecture of the series, delivered on April 7. ' In England/ he said, 
 ' it was my custom, after the delivery of these lectures, to point 
 such a moral as seemed to befit the country I lived in, and to pro- 
 test against an outcry which some brother authors of mine most 
 imprudently and unjustly raise, when they say that our profession 
 is neglected and its professors held in light esteem. Speaking in 
 this country, I would say that such a complaint could not only not 
 be advanced, but could not even be understood here, where your 
 men of letters take their manly share in public life ; whence 
 Everett goes as minister to Washington, and Irving and Bancroft 
 to represent the Republic in the old country. And if to English 
 authors the English public is, as I believe, kind and just in the 
 main, can any of us say, will any who visit your country not 
 proudly and gratefully own, with what a cordial and generous 
 
GRATEFUL TRIBUTE TO AMERICAN AUDIENCES. 177 
 
 greeting you receive us ? I look around on this great company. 
 I think of my gallant young patrons of the Mercantile Library 
 Association, as whose servant I appear before you, and of the 
 kind hand stretched out to welcome me by men famous in letters, 
 and honoured in our own country as in their own, and I thank 
 you and them for a most kindly greeting and a most generous 
 hospitality. At home and amongst his own people it scarce 
 becomes an English writer to speak of himself; his public estima- 
 tion must depend on his works ; his private esteem on his cha- 
 racter and his life. But here, among friends newly found, I ask 
 leave to say that I am thankful ; and I think with a grateful heart 
 of those I leave behind me at home, who will be proud of the 
 welcome you hold out to me, and will benefit, please God, when 
 my days of work are over, by the kindness which you show to 
 their father.' 
 
 A still more interesting paper was his Preface to Messrs. 
 Appleton and Co.'s New York edition of his minor works. 
 Readers will remember Thackeray's droll account, in one of 
 his lectures, of his first interview with the agent of Appleton and 
 Co., when holding on, sea-sick, to the bulwarks of the New York 
 steam-vessel on his outward voyage. The preface referred to 
 contains evidence that the appeal of the energetic representative 
 of that well-known publishing house was not altogether fruitless. 
 It is as follows : — 
 
 ' On coming into this country I found that the projectors of 
 this series of little books had preceded my arrival by publishing 
 a number of early works, which have appeared under various 
 pseudonyms during the last fifteen years. I was not the master to 
 choose what stories of mine should appear or not ; these miscella- 
 nies were all advertised, or in course of publication ; nor have I 
 had the good fortune to be able to draw a pen, or alter a blunder 
 of author or printer, except in the case of the accompanying 
 volumes which contain contributions to " Punch," whence I have 
 been enabled to make something like a selection. In the 
 "Letters of Mr. Brown," and the succeeding short essays and 
 descriptive pieces, something graver and less burlesque was 
 attempted than in other pieces which I here publish. My friend, 
 the " Fat Contributor," accompanied Mr. Titmarsh in his " Journey 
 from Cornhill to Cairo." The prize novels contain imitations of 
 
 N 
 
1 78 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 the writings of some contemporaries who still live and flourish in 
 the novelists' calling. I myself had scarcely entered on it when 
 these burlesque tales were begun, and I stopped further parody 
 from a sense that this meny task of making fun of the novelists 
 should be left to younger hands than my own ; and in a little 
 book published some four years since, in Eng- 
 land, by my friends Messrs. Hannay and Shirley 
 Brooks, I saw a caricature of myself and writings 
 to the full as ludicrous and faithful as the prize 
 novels of Mr. Punch. Nor was there, had I de- 
 sired it, any possibility of preventing the re-ap- 
 pearance of these performances. Other publishers, 
 besides the Messrs. Appleton, were ready to 
 bring my hidden works to the light. Very 
 many of the other books printed I have not seen since their 
 appearance twelve years ago, and it was with no small feelings of 
 curiosity (remembering under what sad circumstances the tale 
 had been left unfinished) that I bought the incomplete " Shabby 
 Genteel Story," in a railway car, on my first journey from Boston 
 hither, from a rosy-cheeked, little peripatetic book merchant, who 
 called out " Thackeray's Works " in such a kind, gay voice, as 
 gave me a feeling of friendship and welcome. 
 
 ' There is an opportunity of being either satiric or sentimental. 
 The careless papers written at an early period, and never seen 
 since the printer's boy carried them away, are brought back and 
 laid at the father's door; and he cannot, if he would, forget or 
 disown his own children. 
 
 ' Why were some of the little brats brought out of their 
 obscurity ? I own to a feeling of anything but pleasure in review- 
 ing some of these misshapen juvenile creatures, which the pub- 
 lisher has disinterred and resuscitated. There are two perform- 
 ances especially (among the critical and biographical works of the 
 erudite Mr. Yellowplush) which I am very sorry to see reproduced ; 
 and I ask pardon of the author of the " Caxtons " for a lampoon, 
 which I know he himself has forgiven, and which I wish I could 
 recall. 
 
 'I had never seen that eminent writer but once in public 
 when this satire was penned, and wonder at the recklessness of 
 the young man who could fancy such personality was harm- 
 
PREFACE TO THE NEW YORK COLLECTION. 179 
 
 less jocularity, and never calculate that it might give pain. The 
 best experiences of my life have been gained since that time of 
 youth and gaiety, and careless laughter. I allude to them, per- 
 haps, because I would not have any kind and friendly American 
 reader judge of me by the wild performances of early years. Such 
 a retrospect as the sight of these old acquaintances perforce occa- 
 sioned cannot, if it would, be gay. The old scenes return, the 
 remembrance of the bygone time, the chamber in which the stories 
 were written, the faces that shone round the table. 
 
 ' Some biographers in this country have been pleased to depict 
 that homely apartment after a very strange and romantic fashion ; 
 and an author in the direst struggles of poverty, waited upon by a 
 family domestic in " all the splendour of his menial decorations," 
 has been circumstantially described to the reader's amusement as 
 well as to the writer's own. I may be permitted to assure the 
 former that the splendour and the want were alike fanciful, and 
 that the meals were not only sufficient but honestly paid for. 
 
 ' That extreme liberality with which American publishers have 
 printed the works of English authors has had at least this bene- 
 ficial result for us, that our names and writings are known by 
 multitudes using our common mother tongue, who never had 
 heard of us or our books but for the speculators- who have sent 
 them all over this continent. 
 
 ' It is of course not unnatural for the English writer to hope 
 that some day he may share a portion of the profits which his 
 works bring at present to the persons who vend them in this 
 country; and I am bound gratefully to say myself, that since 
 my arrival here I have met with several publishing houses who 
 are willing to acknowledge our little claim to participate in the 
 advantages arising out of our books; and the present writer 
 having long since ascertained that a portion of a loaf is more 
 satisfactory than no bread at all, gratefully accepts and acknow- 
 ledges several slices which the book-purveyors in this city have 
 proffered to him of their own free-will. 
 
 < If we are not paid in full and in specie as yet, English writers 
 surely ought to be thankful for the very great kindness and friend- 
 liness with which the American public receives them ; and if in 
 hope some day that measures may pass here to legalise our right 
 to profit a little by the commodities which we invent and in which 
 
1 80 THA CKERA YA NA . 
 
 we deal, I for one can cheerfully say that the good-will towards us-, 
 from publishers and public is undoubted, and wait for still better 
 times with perfect confidence and good-humour. 
 
 ' If I have to complain of any special hardship, it is not that 
 our favourite works are reproduced, and our children introduced 
 to the American public — children whom we have educated with 
 care, and in whom we take a little paternal pride— but that ancient 
 magazines are ransacked, and shabby old articles dragged out, 
 which we had gladly left in the wardrobes where they have lain 
 hidden many years. There is no control, however, over a man's 
 thoughts— once uttered and printed, back they may come upon us 
 on any sudden day ; and in this collection which Messrs. Appleton 
 are publishing I find two or three such early productions of my 
 own that I gladly would take back, but that they have long since 
 gone out of the paternal guardianship. 
 
 ' If not printed in this series, they would have appeared from 
 other presses, having not the slightest need of the author's own 
 imprimatur ; and I cannot sufficiently condole with a literary gen- 
 tleman of this city, who (in his voyages of professional adventure) 
 came upon an early performance of mine, which shall be name- 
 less, carried the news of the discovery to a publisher of books, and 
 had actually done me the favour to sell my book to that liberal 
 man ; when, behold, Messrs. Appleton announced the book in 
 the press, and my confrere had to refund the prize-money which 
 had been paid to him. And if he is a little chagrined at finding 
 other intrepid voyagers beforehand with him in taking possession 
 of my island, and the American flag already floating there, he will 
 understand the feelings of the harmless but kindly-treated aborigi- 
 nal, who makes every sign of peace, who smokes the pipe of sub- 
 mission, and meekly acquiesces in his own annexation. 
 
 1 It is said that those only who win should laugh : I think, in 
 this case, my readers will not grudge the losing side its share of 
 harmless good-humour. If I have contributed to theirs, or pro- 
 vided them with means of amusement, I am glad to think my 
 books have found favour with the American public, as I am proud 
 to own the great and cordial welcome with which they have 
 
 received me. 
 
 ' W. M. Thackeray. 
 
 'New York, December 1852.' 
 
A mere accident 
 
 THE < ADVENTURES OF HENRY ESMOND: 181 
 
 Such words could not fail to be gratifying to the American 
 people, as an evidence of Thackeray's sense of the reception he 
 
 had received ; and in spite of 
 a subsequent slight misunder- 
 standing founded on a mistake 
 and speedily cleared up, it 
 may be said that no English 
 writer of fiction was ever more 
 popular in the United States. 
 
 The publication of the 
 'Adventures of Henry Esmond,' 
 which appeared just as its 
 .author was starting for America in 1852, marked an important 
 epoch in his career. It was a continuous story, and one worked 
 out with closer attention to the thread of the narrative than he 
 had hitherto produced— a fact due, no doubt, partly to its appear- 
 ance in three volumes complete, instead of in detached monthly 
 portions. But its most striking feature was its elaborate imita- 
 tion of the style and even 
 the manner of thought of the 
 time of Queen Anne's reign, 
 in which its scenes were laid. 
 The preparation of his Lec- 
 tures on the Humourists had 
 no doubt suggested to him the 
 idea of writing a story of this 
 kind, as it afterwards suggested 
 to him the design of writing a 
 history of that period which he 
 Tiad long entertained, but in 
 which he had, we believe, made 
 no progress when he died. But 
 Tiis fondness for the Queen 
 Anne writers was of older date. 
 Affectionate allusions to Sir 
 Richard Steele — like himself a 
 Charterhouse boy — and to Ad- 
 dison, and Pope, and Swift, may be found in his earliest maga- 
 zine articles. That the style with which the author of ' Vanity 
 
182 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Fair ' and * Pendennis ' had so often delighted his readers was to- 
 some degree formed upon those models so little studied in his 
 
 boyhood, cannot be doubt- 
 ed by anyone who is fa- 
 miliar with the literature 
 of the 'Augustan age of 
 English authorship.' The 
 writers of that period were 
 fond of French models, as 
 the writers of Elizabeth's 
 time looked to Italy for 
 their literary inspiration ;, 
 but there was no time when- 
 English prose was generally 
 written with more purity 
 and ease ; for the translation 
 of the Scriptures, which is 
 generally referred to as an 
 evidence of the perfection 
 of our English speech in 
 Elizabeth's time, owed its- 
 strength and simplicity chiefly to the rejection by the pious trans- 
 lators of the scholarly style most in vogue, in favour of the homely 
 English then current among the people. If we except the pam- 
 phlet writers of earlier reigns, the Queen Anne writers were the 
 first who systematically wrote for the people in plain Saxon 
 English, not easy to imitate in these days. ' Esmond ' was from 
 the first most liked among literary men who can appreciate a style 
 having no resemblance to the fashion of the day ; but there was a 
 vein of tenderness and true pathos in the story which, in spite of 
 some objectionable features in the plot, and of a somewhat weari- 
 some genealogical introduction, has by degrees gained for it a 
 high rank among the author's works. ' Esmond ' was followed by 
 the 'Newcomes,' in 1855, a work which revealed a deeper pathos 
 than any of his previous novels, and showed that the author could, 
 when he pleased, give us pictures of moral beauty and exquisite 
 tenderness. In this work he returned to the yellow numbers in the 
 old monthly form. 
 
 An incident in connection with the publication of the ' New- 
 
THACKERAY ON GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 183 
 
 comes ' may here be mentioned. Thackeray's fondness for irony 
 had frequently brought him into disgrace with people not so 
 ready as himself in understanding that dangerous figure. A 
 passage in one of his chapters of this story alluding to ' Mr. Wash- 
 ington/ in a parody of the style of the ' British Patriot ' of the 
 
 An embarrassing situation 
 
 time of the War of Independence, was so far misunderstood in 
 America that the fact was alluded to by the New York corre- 
 spondent of the ' Times.' Upon which the 
 author felt it worth his while to explain the 
 real sense of the offending paragraph in a letter 
 to that journal, and, in the concluding para- 
 graph, he very explicitly sets forth his own 
 sincere convictions in regard to the hero of 
 American Independence, and his belief in the 
 justice of the cause for which he conquered.* 
 Another journey to the United States, 
 equally successful, and equally profitable in 
 a pecuniary sense, was the chief event in his 
 life in 1856. The lectures delivered were 
 those admirable anecdotal and reflective dis- 
 courses on the ' Four Georges,' made fami- 
 
 * A somewhat similar circumstance happened during the delivery of the 
 lectures in America, an allusion in which to ' Catherine Hayes ' was warmly 
 resented by the Irish newspapers, until the explanation arrived from Thackeray 
 
1 84 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 liar to readers by their publication in the ' Cornhill Magazine/ 
 and since then in a separate form. The subject was not favour- 
 able to the display of the author's more genial qualities. But 
 where in English literature could we find anything more solemn 
 and affecting than his picture of the old king, the third of that 
 name? When 'all light, all reason, all sound of human voices, 
 all the pleasures of this world of God were taken from him ' — 
 concluding with the affecting appeal to his American audience 
 — ' O brothers ! speaking the same dear mother tongue — O com- 
 rades ! enemies no more, let us take a mournful hand together as 
 we stand by this royal corpse, and call a truce to battle ! Low he 
 lies to whom the proudest used to kneel once, and who was cast 
 lower than the poorest — dead whom millions prayed for in vain. 
 Hush, Strife and Quarrels, over the solemn grave ! Sound,Trum- 
 pets, a mournful march. Fall, Dark Curtain, upon his pageant, his 
 pride, his grief, his awful tragedy ! ' 
 
 These lectures were successfully repeated in England. Thack- 
 eray, indeed, was now recognised as one of the most attrac- 
 tive lecturers of the day. His presence, whether in lecturing 
 on the ' Georges ' for his own profit, or on ' Week-day Preachers/ 
 or some other topic for the benefit of the families of deceased 
 brother writers, such as he delivered to assist in raising monu- 
 ments to the memories of Angus B. Reach and Douglas 
 Jerrold, always attracted the most cultivated classes of the 
 various cities in which he appeared ; but an attempt to draw 
 together a large audience of the less-educated classes by giving a 
 course of lectures at the great Music Hall was less happy. In 
 Edinburgh his reception was always in the highest degree suc- 
 cessful. He was more extensively known and admired among the 
 intellectual portion of the people of Scotland than any living 
 writer, not excepting Thomas Carlyle. There was something in 
 his peculiar genius that commended him to the Northern tem- 
 perament. Thackeray delivered his essays on the ' Four Georges ' 
 in Scotland to larger and more intellectual audiences than have 
 probably flocked to any other lecturer, and he, later on, lectured 
 there for the benefit of Angus B. Reach's widow. Nearly all the 
 men of Edinburgh, with any tincture of literature, had met him 
 
 that the allusion was not to Catherine Hayes, the famous Irish singer, but to 
 Catherine Hayes, the murderess of the last century. 
 
THACKERAY'S ADMIRERS IN SCOTLAND. 185 
 
 personally, and a few knew him well. He was almost the only 
 great author that the majority of the lovers of literature in it had 
 seen and heard, and his form and figure and voice, with its tragic 
 tones and pauses, well entitled him to take his place in any ideal 
 rank of giants. He was much gratified (says James Hannay) by 
 the success of the ' Four Georges ' (a series which superseded an 
 earlier scheme for as many discourses on ' Men of the World ') 
 in Scotland. ' I have had three per cent, of the whole population 
 here,' he wrote from Edinburgh in November 1856. 'If I could 
 but get three per cent, out of London ! ' 
 
 Most of Thackeray's readers will remember that in 1857 he 
 was invited by some friends to offer himself as a candidate for 
 the representation in Parliament of the city of Oxford. 
 
 A characteristic anecdote was told in the newspapers relating 
 to the Oxford election by one who was staying with Thack- 
 eray at his hotel during his contest with Mr. Cardwell. Whilst 
 looking out of window a crowd passed along the street, hooting 
 
 Champions of order 
 
 and handling rather roughly some of his opponent's supporters. 
 Thackeray started up in the greatest possible excitement, and, 
 using some strong expletive, rushed down stairs, and notwith- 
 standing the efforts of numerous old electioneerers to detain him, 
 who happened to be of opinion that a trifling correction of the 
 opposite party might be beneficial poni' encourager les autres, he 
 was not to be deterred, and was next seen towering above the 
 crowd, dealing about him right and left in defence of the partisans 
 of his antagonist and in defiance of his own friends. 
 
1 86 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Curious Authors from Thackeray's Library, indicating the Course of his Readings 
 —Early Essayists illustrated with the Humourist's Pencillings — Bishop 
 Earle's ' Microcosmography ; a piece of the World Characterised,' 1628— 
 An ' Essay in Defence of the Female Sex,' 1697— Thackeray's Interest in 
 Works on the Spiritual World— 'Flagellum Dsemonum, et Fustis Dsemonum. 
 Auctore R. P. F. Hieronymo Mengo,' 1727— 'La Magie et L'Astrologie,' 
 par L. F. Alfred Maury—' Magic, Witchcraft, Animal Magnetism, Hyp- 
 notism, and Electro Biology,' by James Baird, 1852. 
 
 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY (1628), 
 
 OR A PIECE OF THE WORLD DISCOVERED IN ESSAYS AND CHARACTERS. 
 
 By JOHN EARLE, D.D., Bishop of Salisbury. 
 
 Preface to the Edition 0/1732. 
 
 This little book had six editions between 1628 and 1633, without 
 any author's name to recommend it. An eighth edition is spoken 
 of in 1664. The present is reprinted from the edition of 1633, 
 without altering anything but the plain errors of the press, and the 
 old printing and spelling in some places. 
 
 The language is generally easy, and proves our English 
 tongue not to be so very changeable as is commonly supposed. 
 The change of fashions unavoidably casts a shade upon a few 
 places, yet even those contain an exact picture of the age wherein 
 they were written, as the rest does of mankind in general ; for 
 reflections founded upon nature will be just in the main, as long 
 as men are men, though the particular instances of vice and folly 
 may be diversified. Perhaps these valuable essays may be as 
 acceptable to the public as they were at first ; both for the enter- 
 tainment of those who are already experienced in the ways of 
 mankind, and for the information of others who would know the 
 world the best way, that is —without trying it. 
 
MICROCOSMOGRAPHY: ADVERTISEMENT. 187 
 
 Advertisement to the Edition of 1786. 
 
 * This entertaining little book is become rather scarce, and is 
 replete with so much good sense and genuine humour, which, 
 though in part adapted to the times when it first appeared, seems 
 on the whole by no means inapplicable to any era of mankind.' 
 
 Earle's ' Microcosmography ' is undoubtedly a favourable 
 example of the quaint epigrammatic wisdom of the early English 
 writers, and few could question the appropriateness of the pencil 
 which has lightly margined the settings of these terse and sterling 
 essays, to the wisdom and humour of which the happiest produc- 
 tions of later essayists can but be appreciatively likened. Con- 
 cerning' the profoundly accomplished and eminently modest author, 
 1 a most eloquent and powerful preacher, a man of great piety and 
 devotion ; and of a conversation so pleasant and delightful, so very 
 innocent, and so very facetious, that no man's company was more 
 desired and more loved; no man was more negligent in his 
 dress, habit, and mien, no man more wary and cultivated in his 
 behaviour and discourse ; insomuch as he had the greater advan- 
 tage when he was known, by promising so little before,' we may 
 accept the testimony of Lord Clarendon's ' Account of his own 
 Life.' The observations of the great Chancellor are supplemented 
 by the character which honest Isaac Walton has sketched of this 
 estimable prelate in his ' Life of Hooker.' 
 
 1 ... Dr. Earle, now Lord Bishop of Salisbury,* of whom I 
 may justly say (and let it not offend him, because it is such a 
 truth as ought not to be concealed from posterity, or those that 
 now live and yet know him not) that since Mr. Hooker died, 
 none have lived whom God hath blessed with more innocent 
 wisdom, more sanctified learning, or a more pious, peaceable, 
 primitive temper ; so that this excellent person seems to be only 
 like himself, and our venerable Richard Hooker.' 
 
 * Dr. Earle was formerly Bishop of Worcester, from which see he was 
 translated to that of Sarum in 1663 ; he died at Oxford in 1665. 
 
j 88 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 A Child 
 
 Is a man in a small letter, yet the best copy of Adam before he 
 tasted of Eve or the apple ; and he is happy whose small practice 
 in the world can only write his character. He is nature's fresh 
 picture newly drawn in oil, which time, and much handling, dims 
 and defaces. His soul is yet a white paper unscribbled with obser- 
 vations of the world, wherewith at length it becomes a blurred note- 
 book. He is purely happy because he knows no evil, nor hath 
 made means by sin to be acquainted with misery. He arrives not 
 a.t the mischief of being wise, nor endures evils to come by fore- 
 seeing them. He kisses and loves all, and, when the smart of the 
 
EARLES « MICROCOSMOGRAPHY: 
 
 189 
 
 rod is past, smiles on his beater. Nature, and his parents alike, 
 dandle him, and 'tice him on with a bit of sugar to a draught of 
 wormwood. He plays yet like a young 'prentice the first day, and 
 is not come to his task of melancholy. 
 
 All the language he speaks yet is tears, and they serve him well 
 enough to express his necessity. His hardest labour is his tongue, 
 as if he were loth to use so deceitful an organ, and he is best com- 
 pany with it when he can but prattle. We laugh at his foolish 
 sports, but his game is our earnest, and his drums, rattles, and 
 hobby-horses, but the emblems and mocking of man's business. 
 His father hath writ him as his own little story, wherein he reads 
 those days of his life that he cannot remember, and sighs to see 
 what innocence he hath outlived. The older he grows, he is a star 
 lower from God ; and, like his first father, much worse in his 
 breeches. He is the Christian's example, and the old man's 
 relapse ; the one imitates his pureness, and the other falls into his 
 simplicity. Could he put off his body with his little coat, he had 
 got eternity without a burden, and exchanged but one heaven for 
 another. 
 
 An Upstart Knight. 
 
 An upstart country knight is a holiday 
 clown, and differs only in the stuff of 
 his clothes, not the stuff of himself,, 
 for he bare the king's sword before 
 he had arms to wield it ; yet being 
 once laid o'er the shoulder with a 
 knighthood, he finds the herald his 
 friend. His father was a man of 
 good stock, though but a tanner or 
 usurer ; he purchased the land, and 
 his son the title. He has doffed off 
 the name of a country lout, but the 
 look not so easy, and his face still 
 bears a relish of churn milk. He is 
 guarded with more gold lace than all 
 the gentlemen of the country, yet his 
 body makes his clothes still out of fashion. His housekeeping 
 is seen much in the distinct families of dogs, and serving-men 
 
190 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 attendant on their kennels, and the deepness of their throats is 
 the depth of his discourse. 
 
 A justice of peace he is to domineer in his parish, and do his 
 neighbour wrong with more right. He will be drunk with his 
 hunters for company, and stain his gentility with drippings of ale. 
 He is fearful of being sheriff of the shire by instinct, and dreads 
 the assize week as much as the prisoner. 
 
 In sum, he's but a clod of his own earth, or his land is the 
 dunghill, and he the cock that crows over it ; and commonly his 
 race is quickly run, and his children's children, though they 'scape 
 hanging, return to the place from whence they came. 
 
 A Plain Country- Fellow. 
 
 A plain country-fellow is one that manures his ground well, 
 t>ut lets himself lie fallow and untilled. He has reason enough to 
 do his business, and not enough to be idle and melancholy. 
 He seems to have the punishment of Nebuchadnezzar, for his 
 conversation is among beasts, and his talons none of the shortest, 
 
 only he eats not grass because he loves not salads. His hand 
 guides the plough, and the plough his thoughts, and his ditch and 
 landmark is the very mound of his meditations. He expostulates 
 with his oxen very understanding^, and speaks gee, and ree, 
 better than English. His mind is not much distracted with 
 objects, but if a good fat. sow come in his way, he stands dumb 
 and astonished, and though his haste be never so great, will fix 
 
EARLES ' MICROCOSMOGRAPHY: 191 
 
 here half an hour's contemplation. His habitation is some poor 
 thatched roof, distinguished from his barn by the loop-holes that 
 let out smoke, which the rain had long since washed through, but 
 for the double ceiling of bacon on the inside, which has hung there 
 from his grandsire's time, and is yet to make rashers for posterity. 
 His dinner is his other work, for he sweats at it as much as at his 
 labour ; he is a terrible fastener on a piece of beef, and you may 
 hope to stave the guard off sooner. His religion is part of his 
 copyhold, which he takes from his landlord, and refers it wholly to 
 his discretion. Yet if he give him leave he is a good Christian to 
 his power — that is, comes to church in his best clothes, and sits 
 there with his neighbours, where he is capable only of two prayers, 
 for rain, and fair weather. He apprehends God's blessings only in 
 a good year, or a fat pasture, and never praises Him but on good 
 ground. Sunday he esteems a day to make merry in, and thinks a 
 bagpipe as essential to it as evening prayer, when he walks very 
 solemnly after service with his hands coupled behind him, and 
 censures the dancing of his parish. His compliment with his 
 neighbour is a good thump on the back, and his salutation com- 
 monly some blunt curse. He thinks nothing to be vices, but pride 
 and ill husbandry, from which he will gravely dissuade the youth, 
 and has some thrifty hob-nail proverbs to clout his discourse. He 
 is a niggard all the week, except only market days, when, if his corn 
 sell well, he thinks he may be drunk with a good conscience. He 
 is sensible of no calamity but the burning of a stack of corn, or the 
 overflowing of a meadow, and thinks Noah's flood the greatest 
 plague that ever was, not because it drowned the world, but 
 spoiled the grass. For death he is never troubled, and if he get 
 in but his harvest before, let it come when it will, he cares not. 
 
 A Pot Poet. 
 
 A pot poet is the dregs of wit, yet mingled with good drink 
 may have some relish. His inspirations are more real than others, 
 for they do but feign a god, but he has his by him. His verse runs 
 like the tap, and his invention as the barrel ebbs and flows at the 
 mercy of the spiggot. In thin drink he aspires not above a ballad, 
 but a cup of sack inflames him, and sets his muse and nose a-fire 
 
IQ2 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 together. The press is his mint, and stamps him now and then a six- 
 pence or two in reward of the baser coin, his pamphlet. Mis works 
 would scarce sell for three halfpence, though they are given oft for 
 three shillings, but for the pretty title that allures the country gen- 
 tleman ; for which the printer maintains him in ale for a fortnight. 
 His verses are, like his clothes, miserable stolen scraps and 
 patches, yet their pace is not altogether so hobbling as an alma- 
 nac's. The death of a great man, or the burning of a house, 
 furnish him with an argument, and the nine muses are out strait in 
 
 !%/-> 
 ^J^ 
 
 mourning gowns, and Melpomene cries ' Fire ! fire ! ' His other 
 poems are but briefs in rhyme, and, like the poor Greek's collec- 
 tions, to redeem from captivity. 
 
 His frequentest works go out in single sheets, and are chanted 
 from market to market to a vile tune and a viler throat; whilst the 
 poor country wench melts like her butter to hear them. And these 
 are the stories of some men of Tyburn, or of a strange monster 
 broken loose ; or sitting in a tap-room he writes sermons on 
 judgments. He drops away at last, and his life, like a can too 
 full, spills upon the bench. He leaves twenty shillings on the 
 score, which his hostess loses. 
 
 A Bowl Alley. 
 
 A bowl alley is the place where there are three things thrown 
 away besides bowls — to wit, time, money, and curses, and the last 
 ten for one. The best sport in it is the gamesters, and he enjoys 
 
EARLES ' MICROCOSMOGRAPHY: 
 
 193 
 
 it that looks on and bets not. It is the school of wrangling, and 
 worse than the schools, for men will cavil here for a hair's breadth, 
 and make a stir where a straw would end the controversy. No 
 antic screws men's bodies into such strange flexures, and you 
 would think them here senseless, to speak sense to their bowl, and 
 put their trust in entreaties for a good cast. It is the best dis- 
 
 covery of humours, especially in the losers, where you have fine 
 variety of impatience, whilst some fret, some rail, some swear, and 
 others more ridiculously comfort themselves with philosophy. To 
 give you the moral of it, it is the emblem of the world, or the 
 world's ambition; where most are short, or over, or wide, or wrong- 
 biassed, and some few justle in to the mistress of fortune. And it 
 is here as in the court, where the nearest are most spited, and all 
 blows aimed at the toucher. 
 
 A Handsome Hostess. 
 
 A handsome hostess is the fairer commen- 
 dation of an inn, above the fair sign, or 
 fair lodgings. She is the loadstone that 
 attracts men of iron, gallants and roarers, 
 where they cleave sometimes long, and are 
 not easily got off. Her lips are your wel- 
 come, and your entertainment her com- 
 pany, which is put into the reckoning too, 
 and is the dearest parcel in it. No citi- 
 zen's wife is demurer than she at the first greeting, nor draws in 
 her mouth with a chaster simper ; but you may be more familiar 
 
 o 
 
i 9 4 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 without distaste, and she does not startle at a loose jest. She is the 
 confusion of a pottle of sack more than would have been spent 
 elsewhere, and her little jugs are accepted to have her kiss excuse 
 them. She may be an honest woman, but is not believed so in her 
 parish, and no man is a greater infidel in it than her husband. 
 
 A Poor Fiddler. 
 
 A poor fiddler is a man and a fiddle out of 
 case, and he in worse case than his fiddle. 
 One that rubs two sticks together (as the 
 Indians strike fire), and rubs a poor 
 living out of it; partly from this, and 
 partly from your charity, which is more 
 in the hearing than giving him, for he 
 sells nothing dearer than to be gone. 
 He is just so many strings above a 
 beggar, though he have but two ; and yet he begs too. Hunger 
 is "the greatest pain he takes, except a broken head sometimes. . 
 Otherwise his life is so many fits of mirth, and 'tis some mirth 
 to see him. A good feast shall draw him five miles by the nose, 
 and you shall track him again by the scent. His other pilgrim- 
 ages are fairs and good houses, where his devotion is great to 
 the Christmas ; and no man loves good times better. He is in 
 league with the tapsters for the worshipful of the inn, whom he 
 torments next morning with his art, and has their names more 
 perfect than their men. A new song is better to him than a 
 new jacket, especially if it be lewd, which he calls merry ; 
 and hates naturally the puritan, as an enemy to this mirth. A 
 country wedding and Whitsun-ale are the two main places he 
 domineers in, where he goes for a musician, and overlooks the 
 bagpipe. The rest of him is drunk, and in the stocks. 
 
EARLE'S < MICROSCOMOGRAPHY: 195 
 
 A Coward. 
 
 A coward is the man that is commonly most fierce against the 
 coward, and labouring to take off this suspicion from himself; for 
 the opinion of valour is a good protection to those that dare not 
 use it. No man is valianter than he is in civil company, and 
 where he thinks no danger may come of it, and is the readiest 
 man to fall upon a drawer and those that must not strike again ; 
 wonderfully exceptious and choleric where he sees men are loth to 
 give him occasion, and you cannot pacify him better than by quar- 
 relling with him. The hotter you grow, the more temperate man 
 is he ; he protests he always honoured you, and the more you rail 
 upon him, the more he honours you, and you threaten him at last 
 
 into a very honest quiet man. The sight of a sword wounds him 
 more sensibly than the stroke, for before that come, he is dead 
 already. Every man is his master that dare beat him, and every 
 man dares that knows him. And he who dare do this is the only 
 man that can do much with him ; for his friend he cares not, as 
 a man that carries no such terror as his enemy, which for this 
 cause only is more potent with him of the two ; and men fall out 
 with him on purpose to get courtesies from him, and be bribed 
 again to a reconcilement. A man in whom no secret can be 
 bound up, for the apprehension of each danger loosens him, and 
 makes him betray both the room and it. He is a Christian merely 
 for fear of hell fire \ and if any religion could frighten him more, 
 would be of that. 
 
196 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 (APPENDIX.) 
 
 CHARACTERS FROM THE ' FRATERNITY OF VAGABONDS.' 
 
 WITH A DESCRIPTION OF THE CRAFTY COMPANY OF CUSONERS AND SHIFTERS, 
 WHEREUNTO IS ADDED THE TWENTY-FIVE ORDERS OF KNAVES. 1565. 
 
 ' A Ruffler goeth with a weapon to seek service, saying he hath been a 
 servitor in the wars, and beggeth for relief. But his chiefest trade is to rob 
 poor wayfaring men and market-women. 
 
 ' An Upright Man is one that goeth with the truncheon of a staff. This 
 man is of so much authority, that, meeting with any of his profession, he may 
 call them to account, and command a share or ' ' snap " unto himself of all 
 that they have gained by their trade in one month. 
 
 'A Whipiake, or fresh- water mariner, is a person who travels with a 
 counterfeit license in the dress of a sailor. 
 
 'An Abraham Man (hence to " Sham- Abraham") is he that walketh 
 bare-armed and bare-legged, and feigneth himself mad, and canyeth a pack of 
 wool, or a stick with a bauble on it, or such-like toy, and nameth himself 
 " Poor Tom."' 
 
DEFENCE OF THE FEMALE SEX. 
 
 197 
 
 AN ESSAY IN DEFENCE OF THE FEMALE SEX. 
 
 DEDICATED TO THE PRINCESS ANNE OF DENMARK. 
 
 
 As this book does not bear 
 the reputation of being 
 generally familiar, we give 
 a slight sketch of its con- 
 tents. The vitality of a 
 work depends in so large 
 a degree on the estima- 
 tion which its subject hap- 
 pens to secure at the date 
 of publication, that, as 
 a rule, it may be held 
 when a book is forgotten, 
 or extinguished before its 
 first spark of life has time 
 to catch popular atten- 
 tion, the fault is its own, 
 and, being buried, it is a charity to allow its last rest to remain 
 undisturbed. We are inclined to believe, however, that this little 
 treatise forms an exception. The 'Essay in Defence of the 
 Female Sex' is written by a lady. The third edition, which 
 now comes under our consideration as having formed one of the 
 works in Thackeray's library (illustrated with original little sketches 
 of the characters dealt with by their authors), was published in 1697, 
 at the signs of the ' Black Boy' and the ' Peacock,' both in Fleet 
 Street. The authoress disclaims any participation in a brace of 
 verses which appear on its title : — 
 
 ' Since each is fond of his own ugly face, 
 Why should you, when we hold it, break the glass ? ' 
 
 Prol. to ' Sir F. Flutter.' 
 
 The second couplet appears under an engraving of the 
 * Compleat Beau,' an elaborate creation adjusting his curls with a 
 
193 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 simper, whilst a left-handed barber bestows a finishing puff from 
 his powder-box : — 
 
 * This vain gay thing set up for man, 
 But see what fate attends him, 
 The powd'ring Barber first began, 
 The barber-Surgeon ends him ! ' 
 
 The paragraphs distinguished with little drawings, which we 
 have extracted, may give an impression that the ' defence ' consists 
 of an attack on the male, rather than a vindication of the fair sex. 
 The arguments of the gentle champion are, however, temperate 
 and sensible, in parts ; they are stated in a lively, quaint manner, 
 and the general quality of the book may be considered superior to 
 the average of its class and date. The preface, which discourses of 
 vanity as the mainspring of our actions, deals with the characters 
 it is designed to introduce in the work as with the mimic actors of 
 a puppet-show ; this coincidence with a similar assumption in the 
 preface to the great novel of our century, from the pen of the gifted 
 author who at one time possessed this little treatise, is worthy of 
 a passing remark. 
 
 Preface. 
 
 ' Prefaces to most books are like prolocu- 
 tors to puppet-shows ; they come first 
 to tell you what figures are to be pre- 
 sented, and what tricks they are to play. 
 According, therefore, to ancient and 
 laudable custom, I thought fit to let you 
 know, by way of preface or advertise- 
 ment (call it which you please), that 
 here are many fine figures within to be 
 seen, as well worth your curiosity as 
 any in Smithfield at Bartholomew-tide. 
 I will not deny, reader, but that you may 
 have seen some of them there already ; 
 to those that have I have little more to 
 say, than that if they have a mind to see 
 them again in effigy, they may do it here. What is it you would 
 
DEFENCE OF THE FEMALE SEX. 
 
 199 
 
 have ? Here are St. Georges, Batemans, John Dories, Punchi- 
 nelloes, and the " Creation of the World," or what's as good, &c. 
 The bookseller, poor man, is desirous to please you at firsthand, 
 and therefore has put a fine picture in the front to invite you in.' 
 
 Character of a Pedant. 
 
 (The Authoress alludes to scholars ' falling short ' of certain qualifications. 
 The expression is literally illustrated. ) 
 
 ' For scholars, though by their acquaint- 
 ance with books, and conversing much 
 with old authors, they may know perfectly 
 the sense of the learned dead, and be 
 perfect masters of the wisdom, be tho- 
 roughly informed of the state, and nicely 
 skilled in the policies of ages long since 
 past, yet by their retired and inactive 
 life, their neglect of business, and con- 
 stant conversation with antiquity, they 
 are such strangers to, and so ignorant 
 of, the domestic affairs and manners of 
 their own country and times, that they 
 appear like the ghosts of old Romans 
 raised by magic. Talk to them of the 
 Assyrian or Persian monarchies, the 
 ^Grecian or Roman commonwealths, 
 they answer like oracles ; they are such 
 finished statesmen, that we should scarce take them to have been 
 less than confidants of Semiramis, tutors to Cyrus the Great, old 
 cronies of Solon and Lycurgus, or privy councillors at least to 
 the twelve Caesars successively. But engage them in a discourse 
 that concerns the present times, and their native country, and 
 they hardly speak the language of it, and know so little of the 
 affairs of it, that as much might reasonably be expected from an 
 animated Egyptian mummy. 
 
 ' They are much disturbed to see a fold or plait amiss in the 
 picture of an old Roman gown, yet take no notice that their own 
 are threadbare, out at the elbows, or" ragged ; or suffer more if 
 Priscian's head be broken than if it were their own. They are ex- 
 
200 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 cellent guides, and can direct you to every alley and turning 
 in old Rome, yet lose their way at 
 home in their own parish. They are 
 mighty admirers of the wit and elo- 
 quence of the ancients, and yet had 
 they lived in the time of Cicero and 
 Caesar, would have treated them with 
 as much supercilious pride and disre- 
 spect as they do now with reverence. 
 They are great hunters of ancient ma- 
 nuscripts, and have in great veneration 
 anything that has escaped the teeth of 
 time and rats, and if age has obliterated 
 the characters 'tis the more valuable 
 for not being legible. But if by chance 
 they can pick out one word, they rate 
 it higher than the whole author in print, 
 and would give more for one proverb 
 of Solomon under his own hand, than for all his wisdom.' 
 
 Extracts from the Character of a Com? try Gentleman. 
 
 Contrasting the picture of a pedant 
 with that of a country gentleman, 
 the writer states these two charac- 
 ters are presented to show ' that 
 men may, and do often, baffle and 
 frustrate the effects of a liberal 
 education as well by industry as 
 negligence. For my part I think 
 the learned and unlearned blockhead pretty equal, for 'tis all 
 one to me, whether a man talk nonsense or unintelligible sense.' 
 
 After describing the relief experienced by the country squire 
 on his release from the bondage of learning, the authoress continues 
 her sketch : — 
 
 ' Thus accomplished and finished for a gentleman, he enters 
 the civil list, and holds the scales of Justice with as much blindness 
 as she is said to do. From henceforward his worship becomes as 
 
DEFENCE OF THE FEMALE SEX. 201 
 
 formidable to the ale-houses as he was before familiar ; he sizes an 
 ale-pot, and takes the dimensions of bread with great dexterity and 
 sagacity. He is the terror of all the deer and poultry stealers in the 
 neighbourhood, and is so implacable a persecutor of poachers that 
 he keeps a register of all the guns and dogs in the hundred, and is 
 the scare-beggar of the parish. Short pots, and unjustifiable dogs 
 and nets, furnish him with sufficient matter of presentments to 
 carry him once a quarter to the sessions, where he says little, eats 
 and drinks much, and after dinner, hunts over the last chase, and 
 so rides, worshipfully drunk, home again.' 
 
 Extracts -from the Character of a Scowler. 
 
 These are your men of 
 nice honour, that love 
 fighting for the sake of 
 blows, and are never 
 well but when they are 
 wounded ; they are severe 
 interpreters of looks, are 
 affronted at every face that don't please them, and like true cocks 
 of the game, have a quarrel with all mankind at first sight They 
 are passionate admirers of scarred faces, and dote on a wooden 
 leg. They receive a challenge like a " billet-doux," and a home- 
 thrust as a favour. Their common adversary is the constable, 
 and their usual lodging "the counter." Broken heads are a 
 diversion, and an arm in a scarf is a high satisfaction. They are 
 frugal in their expenses with the tailor, for they have their 
 doublets pinked on their backs ; but they are as good as an 
 annuity to the surgeon, though they need him not to let them 
 blood.' 
 
 Extracts from the Character of a Beau. 
 
 1 A beau is one that has more learning in his heels than his 
 
 head, which is better covered than filled. His tailor and his barber 
 
 ; are his cabinet council, to whom he is more beholden for what he 
 
 is than to his Maker. He is one that has travelled to see fashions, 
 
 and brought over with him the newest cut suits and the prettiest 
 
202 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 fancied ribands for sword-knots. He should be a philosopher, 
 for he studies nothing but himself, yet every one knows him better 
 that thinks him not worth knowing. 
 His looks and gestures are his constant 
 lesson, and his glass is the oracle that 
 resolves all his mighty doubts and 
 scruples. He examines and refreshes 
 his complexion by it, and is more de- 
 jected at a pimple than if it were a 
 cancer. When his eyes are set to a 
 languishing air, his motions all prepared 
 according to art, his wig and his coat 
 abundantly powdered, his gloves essenced, and his handkerchief 
 perfumed, and all the rest of his bravery adjusted rightly, the 
 greatest part of the day, as well as 
 the business of it at home, is over ; 
 'tis time to launch, and down he 
 comes, scented like a perfumer's 
 shop, and looks like a vessel with all 
 her rigging under sail without ballast.' 
 . . . . ' He first visits the chocolate- 
 house, where he admires himself in 
 the glass, and starts a learned argu- 
 ment on the newest fashions. From 
 
 hence he adjourns to the play-house, where he is to be met again 
 in the side box, from whence he makes his court to all the ladies 
 in general with his eyes, and is par- 
 ticular only with the orange wench. 
 After a while he engages some neigh- 
 bouring vizor, and altogether they run 
 over all the boxes, take to pieces every 
 face, examine every feature, pass their 
 censure upon every one, and so on to 
 their dress ; but, in conclusion, sees 
 nobody complete, but himself, in the 
 whole house. After this he looks down 
 with contempt upon the pit, and rallies all the slovenly fellows and 
 awkward " beaux," as he calls them, of the other end of the town ; 
 is mightily offended at their ill-scented snuff, and, in spite of all his 
 
DEFENCE OF THE FEMALE SEX. 203 
 
 " pulvilio " and essences, is overcome with the stink of their Cor- 
 
 dovant gloves. To close all, Madam in the mask must give him 
 
 an account of the scandal of the town, which she does in the 
 
 history of abundance of intrigues, real or feigned, at all of which 
 
 he laughs aloud and often, not to show his 
 
 satisfaction, but his teeth. His next stage 
 
 is Locket's, where his vanity, not his stomach, 
 
 is to be gratified with something that is little 
 
 and dear. Quails and ortolans are the 
 
 meanest of his diet, and a spoonful of green 
 
 peas at Christmas is worth more to him than 
 
 the inheritance of the field where they grow 
 
 in summer. His amours are all profound 
 
 secrets, yet he makes a confidence of them 
 
 to every man he meets with. Thus the show 
 
 goes forward, until he is beaten for trespasses 
 
 he was never guilty of, and shall be damned 
 
 for sins he never committed. At last, with 
 
 his credit as low as his fortune, he retires 
 
 sullenly to his cloister, the King's Bench or 
 
 the Fleet, and passes the rest of his days in 
 
 privacy and contemplation. Here, if you 
 
 please, we will give him one visit more, and 
 
 see the last act of the farce ; and you shall 
 
 find him (whose sobriety was before a vice, as being only the 
 
 pander to his other pleasures, and who feared a lighted pipe as 
 
 much as if it had been a great gun levelled at him) with his 
 
 nose flaming, and his breath stinking of spirits worse than a Dutch 
 
 tarpaulin's, and smoking out of a short pipe, that for some months 
 
 has been kept hot as constantly as a glass-house, and so I leave 
 
 him to his meditation.' 
 
 Extracts from the Character of a l Poetaster: 
 
 After commencing his education in a shop or counting-house, 
 the poetaster sets up as a manufacturer of verse. 
 
 < He talks much of Jack Dryden, and Will Wycherley, and the 
 rest of that set, and protests he can't help having some respect for 
 
504 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 them, because they have so much for him and his writings ; other- 
 wise he could prove them to be mere sots and blockheads that 
 understand little of poetry in comparison with 
 himself. He is the oracle of those who want 
 wit, and the plague of those that have it, for he 
 haunts their lodgings, and is more terrible to 
 them than their duns. His pocket is an inex- 
 haustible magazine of rhyme and nonsense, and 
 his tongue, like a repeating clock with chimes, 
 is ready upon every touch to sound them. Men 
 avoid him for the same reason they avoid the 
 pillory, the security of their ears, of which he is 
 as merciless a prosecutor. He is the bane to so- 
 ciety, a friend to the stationers, the plague of the press, and the 
 ruin of his bookseller. He is more profitable to the grocers and 
 tobacconists than the paper manufacturer ; for his works, which 
 talk so much of fire and flame, commonly expire in their shops in 
 vapour and smoke.' 
 
 Extracts from the Character of a Virtuoso. 
 
 ( The virtuoso is one who has sold his estate in 
 land to purchase one in scallop, couch, and 
 cockle shells, and has abandoned the society 
 of men for that of insects, worms, grubs, 
 lizards, tortoises, beetles, and moths. His 
 study is like Noah's ark, the general rendez- 
 vous of all creatures in the universe, and the 
 greatest part of his movables are the remain- 
 ders of the deluge. His travels are not de- 
 signed as visits to the inhabitants of any place, 
 but to the pits, shores, and hills ; and from whence he fetches 
 not the treasure but the trumpery. He is ravished at finding an 
 uncommon shell or an odd-shaped stone, and is desperately ena- 
 moured at first sight of an unusual marked butterfly, which he 
 will hunt a whole day to be master of. He traffics to all places, 
 and has his correspondents in every part of the world. He pre- 
 serves carefully those creatures which other men industriously de- 
 
DEFENCE OF THE FEMALE SEX. 205: 
 
 stroy, and cultivates sedulously those plants which others root up 
 as weeds. His cash consists much in old coins, and he thinks 
 the face of Alexander on one of them worth more than all his 
 conquests.' 
 
 Character of a City Militiaman. 
 
 After describing the contests in Flanders 
 being re-fought by the newsmongers in 
 the coffee-houses, the sketch proceeds : — 
 ' Our greatest actions must be buf- 
 fooned in show as well as talk. Shall 
 Namur be taken and our heroes of the 
 city not show their prowess upon so 
 great an occasion? It must never be 
 said that the coffee-houses dared more 
 than Moorfields. No ; for the honour of London, out comes the 
 foreman of the shop, very formidable in buff and bandoleers, and 
 away he marches, with feather in cap, to the general rendezvous 
 in the Artillery Ground. There these terrible mimics of Mars 
 are to spend their fury in noise and smoke upon a Namur erected 
 for that purpose on a molehill, and by the help of guns and drums 
 out- stink and out-rattle Smithneld in all its bravery, and would 
 be too hard for the greatest man in all France, if they had him 
 but amongst them. Yet this is but skirmishing, the hot service 
 is in another place, when they engage the capons and quart pots ; 
 never was onset more vigorous, for they come to handy blows 
 immediately, and now is the real cutting and slashing, and tilting 
 without quarter : were the towns in Flanders all walled with beef, 
 and the French as good meat as capons, and dressed the same way, 
 the king need never beat his drums for soldiers ; and all these 
 gallant fellows would come in voluntarily, the meanest of which 
 would be able to eat a marshal.' 
 
 These descriptions of character are concluded by contrasts 
 drawn between the virtues and vices of the respective sexes, and 
 the authoress remarks that if the masses are to be measured by 
 the instances of either Tullia, Claudia, or Messalina, by Sarda- 
 napalus, Nero, or Caligula, the human race will certainly be found 
 the vilest part of the creation. 
 
2o6 
 
 THA CKERA VAJVA, 
 
 herSatiseS 3 ' ^^ that ^ haS gained one e *P<^ce by 
 ' I find when our hands are in 'tis as hard to stop them as our 
 tongues, and as difficult not to write as not to talk ^ much 
 have done wondermg at those men that can write huge volume 
 upon Render subjects, and shall hereafter admire their jud~ 
 only who can confine their imaginations, and curb their wand ^ 
 
FLAGELLUM D^MONUM. 
 
 207 
 
 WORKS ON DEMONOLOGY AND MAGIC. 
 
 Among the books which 
 formed part of Thackeray's 
 library are one or two treat- 
 ing on the subject of the 
 1 Black Arts.' The most cu- 
 rious and valuable example, 
 H. Mengo's < Flagellum Das- 
 monum/ appears to have 
 been purchased in Paris ; in 
 addition to the book-stamp 
 usually employed by the au- 
 thor of ' Vanity Fair/ there 
 is an autograph, and the re- 
 mark, ' a very rare and curi- 
 ous volume/ in his own 
 hand-writing. As the work 
 is seldom met with, we give 
 the title-pages of the two 
 
 volumes entire, for the benefit of those readers who may have a 
 
 taste for ' Diablerie ; : — 
 
 FLAGELLUM D^EMONUM. 
 
 EXORCISMOS, TERRIBILES, POTENTISSIMOS, ET EFFICACES. 
 
 HEMEDIAQUE PROBATISSIMA, AC DOCTRINAM SINGULAREM IN MALIGNOS 
 
 SPIRITUS EXPELLENDOS, FACTURASQUE, ET MALESICIA FUGANDA 
 
 DE OBSESSIS CORPORIBUS COMPLECTENS, CUM SUIS BENE- 
 
 DICTIONIBUS, ET OMNIBUS REQUISITIS AD 
 
 EORUM EXPULSIONEM. 
 
 Accessit postremo Pars Secunda, qnce Fustis Dcemo?ium inscribitur. 
 
 QUIBUS NOVI EXORCISMI, ET ALIA NONNULLA, QU^E PRIUS 
 DESIDERABANTUR, SUPER ADDITA FUERUNT 
 
 AUCTORE R. P. F. HlERONYMO MENGO, 
 
 VITELLIANENSI, ORDINIS MINORUM REGULARIS OBSERVANTLY. 
 
 ANNO I727. 
 
208 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 The fly-leaf is illustrated with the following animated design in 
 pencil, possibly drawn from a vivid recollection existing in the 
 artist's mind of a similar subject, by the magic etching-needle of 
 that fantastic creator of demons and imaginative devices, Jacques 
 Callot ; found in the ' Capricci,' dedicated to Lorenzo Medici. 
 
 We are unable, in the limits of the present volume, to offer 
 more than a brief summary of the contents of this singular work. 
 The first volume (309 pages) contains three indexes, a ' dedica- 
 toria ' to ' D.D. Lotharia a Metternich/ and a list of authors who 
 have been consulted in the composition of the book. 
 
 We are inclined to believe that this list of authorities, on a sub- 
 ject which presents a large field for exploration, will be of value to 
 
FLAGELLUM D.EM O NUM. 
 
 >o9 
 
 investigators, and not altogether without interest to the general 
 reader. Their names are arranged alphabetically : — 
 
 Alexander Papa Sanctus. Alexander de Ales Doctor. Alphon- 
 sus Castrensis. Ambrosius Doctor S. Athanasius Doctor S. 
 August, de Ancona. Bartholo- 
 masus Sybilla. Beda Venerabilis. 
 Bernardus Abbas S. Bernardinus 
 de Bustis. Boetius Severinus. 
 Bonaventura Doctor S. Concilia 
 diversa. Dionysius Cartusianus. 
 Fulgentius Doctor S. Glossa or- 
 dinaria. Gregorius Papa Doctor 
 Sanctus. Haymo Episcopus. 
 Henricus Arphius. Hieronymus 
 Doctor S. Hilarius Doctor S. 
 Hugo de Sancto Victore. Joa- 
 chim Abbas. Johannes Crysostomus S. Joannes Cassianus Abb. 
 Joann. Damascenus S. Johannes Gerson Doctor. Joannes 
 Scotus Doctor. Josephus de Bello Judaico. Isidorus Doctor S. 
 
 Leo Papa Doctor S. Ludovicus Blosius. Magister Sententiarum. 
 Magister Historiarum. Malleus Malesicarum. Michael Psellus. 
 Nicolaus de Lira Doct. Paulus Ghirlandus. Petrus Galatinus. 
 Richardus Mediavilla Doctor. Rupertus Abbas. Silvester Prie- 
 rius. Thomas Aquinas Doctor Sanctus. 
 
 Forty-five pages are devoted to ' Doctrina pulcherrima in 
 
2IO 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 malignos Spiritus.' One hundred and seventy-two pages are occu- 
 pied with ' Exorcismus I. ad VII.' An ' Exorcismus ' consists of 
 various ' Oratio,' ' Adjuratio,' and ' Conjuratio ; ' the latter, in 
 Exor. VI., graduating through the ' Conjuratio aeris — terrae — 
 aquae — ignis — omnium elementalium — Inferni — &c.' Vol. I. con- 
 cludes with ' Remedia Efficacissima in 
 malignos spiritus,' and offers, besides 
 Psalms proper for the purpose, regular 
 physicians' prescriptions — drugs and 
 their proportions — under the head of 
 ' Medicina pro Maleficiatis.' 
 
 The artist's pencil has made a humor- 
 ous marginal sketch in ' Exorcismus V.,' 
 opposite this ' Conjuratio.' ' Conjuro te 
 t%< daemon per ilium, cujus Nativitatem 
 Angelus Mariae Virgini annunciavit, qui- 
 que pro nobis peccatoribus descendit de ccelis, &c.' 
 The title-page of Vol. II. we also give in full : — 
 
 FUSTIS D^MONUM. 
 
 ADJURATIONES FORMIDABILES POTENTISSIMAS, ET EFFICACES. 
 
 IN MALIGNOS SPIRITUS FUGANDOS DE OPPRESSIS 
 
 CORPORIBUS HUMANIS. 
 
 EX SACP^E APOCALYPSIS FOXTE VARIISQUE SAXCTORUM PATRUM 
 AUCTORITATIBUS HAUSTAS COMPLECTENS. 
 
 AUCTORE R. P. F. HlERONYMO MENGO, 
 
 VITELLIAXEXSI, ORDIXIS MIXORUM REGULARIS OBSERVAXTLE. 
 
 Opus sane ad maxtmam Exorcistarum commoditatem nunc in 
 lucem editum. 
 
MAGIC AND ASTROLOGY. 
 
 2JI 
 
 <LA MAGIE ET L'ASTROLOGIE,' 
 
 Par L. F. Alfred Maury. 
 
 ' La Magie et l'Astrologie 
 dans l'Antiquite et au 
 Moyen Age; ou, Etude sur 
 les Superstitions Paiennes 
 qui se sont perpetuees 
 jusqu'a nos jours.' This 
 work, in two parts, by 
 the author of ' Les Pre- 
 miers Ages de la Nature ' 
 and ' Une Histoire des 
 Religions/ gives evidence 
 of wide-spread research. 
 To the curious in ' dark J 
 literature, A. Maury's 
 compilation must form a vastly concise and interesting introduc- 
 tion to a subject which once absorbed a large proportion of the 
 erudition and ' fond ' wisdom of our ancestors. From its high 
 seat amidst kings and profound sages, cabalistic art has, in this 
 practical age, sunk so low that its exclusive privilege may be 
 considered the delectation and delusion of the most forlorn 
 ignorance. 
 
 It is, indeed, a source of congratulation that magic and astrology 
 in our day rarely rise above the basement (for their modern patrons 
 inhabit the kitchen), unless they are admitted in the palpable 
 form of ' parlour necromancy,' degenerating into mere manual 
 dexterity and common-place conjuring tricks. 
 
 A. Maury's work traces the progress of magic from its source 
 among uncivilised nations, and in the earliest ages, through the 
 history of the Chaldeans, the Persians, the Egyptians, the Greeks, 
 and the Romans. He exhibits the struggle of Christianity with 
 magic, until the greater power overcame vain superstitions. He 
 
 p 2 
 
212 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 then follows its evil track through the middle ages, and illustrates 
 in the observances of astrology, an imitation of Pagan rites. 
 
 In the Second Part the author reviews the subject of super- 
 stitions attaching to dreams, and defines their employment as a 
 means of divination, from the earliest records down to a recent 
 
 period. He then describes the demoniac origin, once attri- 
 buted to mental and nervous derangements, and elucidates the 
 assistance contributed by the imagination to the deceptions of 
 so-called magic. He concludes by considering the production 
 of mental phenomena by the use of narcotics, the destruction 
 of reason and of the intellectual faculties, and closes his summary 
 by treating of hypnotism and somnambulism. 
 
MAGIC AND ASTROLOGY. 213 
 
 In the chapter describing the influence of magic on the 
 teachings of the Neoplatonic school of philosophy, we find the 
 arguments advanced in the paragraphs we ex- 
 tract, wittily and practically embodied in a little 
 sketch of an antique divinity, introduced with 
 modern attributes. 
 
 ' . . . The new school of Plato imagined a 
 complete hierarchy of demons, with which they 
 combined a portion of the divinities of the an- 
 cient Greek religion, reconstructed in a newer 
 and more philosophical spirit. 
 
 ' In the doctrines expounded by the author 
 of the " Mysteres des Egyptiens," who had bor- 
 rowed most of his ideas from the Egyptian the- 
 ology, demons are represented as veritable divinities, who divide 
 the government of the world with the deities. 
 
 ' The inconsistent chronological confusion which prevailed at 
 that period frequently offers similar contradictions ; for the doc- 
 trines of antiquity, while taking their position in the new philo- 
 sophy, had not been submitted to the modifications necessary to 
 bring them into harmony with the later system. 
 
 ' . . . The severity directed by Church and State against 
 magicians and sorcerers was not solely inspired by the terrors of 
 demons or a dread of witchcraft. 
 
 ' . . . Although there existed in the rites of magic many 
 foolish ceremonials that were harmless and inoffensive, the per- 
 petuation of the observances of the ancient Polytheism were, 
 however, employed as a veil, beneath which existed practices that 
 were absolutely criminal, stamped with the most atrocious and 
 sanguinary superstitions. The preparation of poisons played a 
 considerable part in these observances, and witchcraft was not 
 entirely confined to mere influences on the mind. Those who 
 connected themselves with sorcery most frequently employed it 
 with a view of gratifying either personal vengeance or culpable 
 covetousness.' 
 
 In the chapter on ' Possession DcmoniaqucJ devoted to the 
 demoniacal origin attributed to nervous and mental afflictions, we 
 find a quaint pencil-heading which precedes the extracts we have 
 made, to explain the matter it illustrates. 
 
214 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 '. . . The ancients no more succeeded in mastering the 
 natural character and physical origin of disease than they were 
 able to recognise the constancy of the phenomena of the uni- 
 verse. 
 
 ' All descriptions of sickness, especially epidemics and mental 
 or nervous affections, were particularly reputed of supernatural 
 agency; the first on account of their unexpected approaches, and 
 their contagious and deadly effects ; the second on the grounds of 
 their mysterious origin, and the profound affections they bring 
 either to the mind, the muscular system, or the sensations. 
 
 * When an epidemic broke out they immediately concluded 
 that a divinity was abroad, sent forth to execute vengeance or to 
 
MAGIC AND ASTROLOGY. 215 
 
 inflict just corrections. They then employed their faculties in 
 searching for a motive that might have provoked his anger, and 
 
 they strove to appease his wrath by sacri- 
 fices ; or they sought to avert the effects 
 of evil by ceremonies, by purifications, 
 and exorcisms. 
 
 ' Their legends record that the deities 
 of evil have been seen riding through the 
 air, scattering death and desolation far 
 and wide. 
 
 ' . . . A passage in Minutius Felix 
 (Octav. c. 29, which confirms Saint Cyprien 
 ad Demetrian. p. 501, et Lactance, Inst. 
 Div. II. xv. ; cf. Kopp, " Palaeographia Critica," t. hi. p. 75) in- 
 forms us that in order to constrain the demon to declare, through 
 the mouth of the person 
 supposed to be thus pos- 
 sessed, that he was driven 
 out, recourse was had to 
 blows, and to the employ- 
 ment of barbarous methods. 
 This will at once explain 
 the apparent successes of 
 certain exorcists, and the 
 ready compliance with which the devils responded to their con- 
 jurations. The signs by which the departure of the evil spirit 
 were recognised were naturally very varied. Pious legends make 
 
2l6 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 frequent mention of demons that have been expelled, and have 
 been seen to proceed, with terrible cries, from the mouths of those 
 so possessed.' 
 
 The two priestly figures, which are found at the commence- 
 ment of this short resume of Alfred Maury's work, might be readily 
 assumed to embody the characteristics of magic and astrology. 
 
 They are drawn on a fly-leaf in the original, and on the cor- 
 responding leaf at the end is pencilled the richly quaint concep- 
 tion, which appropriately concludes the summary of contents. 
 
MAGIC, WITCHCRAFT, AND MAGNETISM. 217 
 
 MAGIC, WITCHCRAFT, ANIMAL MAGNETISM, 
 HYPNOTISM, AND ELECTRO BIOLOGY. 
 
 By James Braid. 1852. 
 
 
 Amicus Plato, amicus Socrates, sed magis arnica Veritas. 
 
 Mr. Braid has selected a 
 neat motto for his treatise, 
 for the matter contained 
 in it will hardly warrant 
 the assumption of a more 
 ambitious title. 
 
 Mr. Braid, of Burling- 
 ton House, Manchester, 
 a doctor by profession, is 
 a believer in and expo- 
 nent of hypnotism. A 
 great portion of his little 
 work reviews the criti- 
 cisms on earlier editions, 
 or deals with statements 
 regarding Colquhoun's 
 ' History of Magic.' Its 
 author, while rejecting the 
 doctrines known as ani- 
 mal mesmerism and mag- 
 netism, admits the effects 
 they are declared to produce ; but he refers such results to hyp- 
 notism—a state of induced sleep- -into which a patient may be 
 thrown by artificial contrivance. 
 
 It is possible that the contents of this book would not prove 
 of much general interest excepting to amateurs of ' animal mag- 
 netism ; ' but we give one extract, which may prove of service to 
 those who do not happen to be already informed of the theory it 
 advances, which is one that every reader can practically test :— 
 
2lS 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ' In my work on hypnotism/ observes Mr. Braid, ' published 
 in 1843, I explained how "tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy 
 
 sleep," might be procured, in 
 many instances, through a most 
 simple device, by the patient 
 himself. All that is required 
 for this purpose is simply to 
 place himself in a comfortable 
 posture in bed, and then to 
 o close the eyelids, and turn up 
 ^ the eyeballs gently, as if look- 
 ing at a distant object, such 
 as an imaginary star, situated 
 somewhat above and behind the forehead, giving the whole con- 
 centrated attention of the mind to the idea of maintaining a 
 steady view of the star, and breathing softly, as if in profound 
 attention, the mind at the same time yielding to the idea that 
 sleep will ensue, and to the tendency to somnolence which will 
 creep upon him whilst, engaged in this act of fixed attention. Mr. 
 Walker's method of " procuring sleep at will," by desiring the 
 patient to maintain a fixed act of attention by imagining himself 
 watching his breath issuing slowly from his nostrils, after having 
 placed his body in a comfortable position in bed, which was first 
 published by Dr. Binns, is essentially the same as my own 
 method, &c.' 
 
 Professor Gregory, in his ' Letters to a Candid Inquirer,' after 
 describing the induction of sleep effected by reading a class of 
 books of a dry character, remarks : ' But let these persons 
 (sufferers from a difficulty in getting off to sleep) try the experi- 
 ment of placing a small bright object, seen by the reflection of a 
 safe and distant light, in such a position that the eyes are strained 
 a little upwards or backwards, and at such a distance as to give a 
 tendency to squinting, and they will probably never again have 
 recourse to the venerable authors above alluded to. Sir David 
 Brewster, who, with more than youthful ardour, never fails to 
 investigate any curious fact connected with the eye, has not only 
 seen Mr. Braid operate, but has also himself often adopted this 
 method of inducing sleep, and compares it to the feeling we have 
 when, after severe and long-continued bodily exertion, we sit or 
 
MAGIC, WITCHCRAFT, AND MAGNETISM. 219 
 
 lie down and fall asleep, being overcome, in a most agreeable 
 manner, by the solicitations of Morpheus, to which, at such times, 
 we have a positive pleasure in yielding, however inappropriate the 
 scene of our slumbers.' 
 
 Among the contents are numerous instances of magnetism, 
 and anecdotes of experiments, which have been amusingly * hit 
 
 off' in little marginal sketches. One of the best of these is an 
 illustration of the contagious dancing mania said to be excited by 
 the bite of the tarantula spider — 'against the effect of which 
 neither youth nor age afforded any protection, so that old men of 
 
 ninety threw away their crutches/ and the very sight of those so- 
 affected was equally potent. These sketches are, however, so 
 small that we think it advisable to exclude them from our selec- 
 tion. The pantomimic mesmerism produced by the harlequin's 
 
220 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 magic wand, and practically seconded by the sly slaps of the 
 clown, are happily given on the fly-leaf of the treatise ; and a 
 vastly original and startling result of animal magnetism records on 
 the last page the droller impressions of the artist-reader on the 
 subject, through the medium of his pencil. 
 
 Carried away under the influence of spirits 
 
221 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ENGLISH ESSAYISTS OF THE GEORGIAN ERA. 
 
 Early Essayists whose Writings have furnished Thackeray with the Accessories 
 of Portions of his Novels and Lectures — Works from the Novelist's 
 Library, elucidating his Course of Reading for the Preparation of his ' Lec- 
 tures ' — •' Henry Esmond,' 'The Virginians,' &c. — Characteristic Passages 
 from the Lucubrations of the Essayists of the Augustan Era illustrated with 
 original marginal Sketches, suggested by the Text, by Thackeray's Hand — 
 The ' Tatler ' — Its History and Influence — Reforms introduced by the purer 
 Style of the Essayists — The Literature of Queen Anne's Reign — -Thackeray's 
 Love for the Writings of that Period — His Gift of reproducing their masterly 
 and simple Style of Composition ; their Irony, and playful Humour — Ex- 
 tracts from notable Essays ; illustrated with original Pencillings from the 
 Series of the 'Tatler,' 1709. 
 
 The commencement of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury has been christened the Augustan Era 
 of English literature, from the brilliant as- 
 sembly of writers, pre-eminent for their 
 wit, genius, and cultivation, who then en- 
 riched our literature with a perfectly ori- 
 ginal school of humour. 
 
 The essayists, to whose accomplished 
 parts we are indebted for the 'Tatlers/ 
 'Spectators,' 'Guardians,' 'Humorists,' 
 ' Worlds,' ' Connoisseurs/ ' Mirrors,' 
 ' Adventurers,' ' Observers,' ' Loungers,' 
 * Lookers-on,' ' Ramblers,' and kindred papers, which picture the 
 many- coloured scenes of our society and literature, have conferred 
 a lasting benefit upon posterity by the sterling merit of their writings. 
 It has been justly said that these essays, by their intrinsic worth, 
 have outlived many revolutions of taste, and have attained unrivalled 
 
222 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 popularity and classic fame, while multitudes of their contempo- 
 raries, successors, and imitators have perished with the accidents 
 or caprices of fashion. 
 
 The general purpose of the essayists as laid down by Steele, who 
 may be considered foremost among the originators of the familiar 
 school of writing, ' was to expose the false arts of life, to pull off the 
 disguises of cunning, vanity, and affectation, and to recommend a 
 general simplicity in our dress, our discourse, and our behaviour/ 
 BickerstafT's lucubrations were directed to good-humoured ex- 
 posures of those freaks and vagaries of life, ' too trivial for the 
 chastisement of the law and too fantastical for the cognisance of the 
 pulpit,' of those failings, according to Addison's summary of their 
 purpose in the 'Spectator' (No. 34), thus harmonised by Pope : — 
 
 Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne, 
 Yet touched and shamed by Ridicule alone. 
 
 The graceful philosophers, polished wits and playful satirists exerted 
 their abilities to supply ' those temporary demands and casual exi- 
 gencies, overlooked by graver writers and more bulky theorists,' to 
 bring, in the language of Addison, ' philosophy out of closets and 
 libraries, schools and colleges, to dwell in clubs and assemblies, at 
 tea-tables and in coffee-houses.' 
 
 ' The method of conveying cheap and easy knowledge began 
 among us in the civil wars, when it was much the interest of either 
 party to raise and fix the prejudices of the people.' It was in this 
 spirit that the oft-mentioned Mercuries, 'Mercurius Aulicus,' 
 ' Mercurius Rusticus,' and ' Mercurius Civicus ' first appeared. 
 
 A hint of the original plan of the ' Tatler ' may in some degree 
 be traced to Defoe's ' Review ; consisting of a Scandal Club, on 
 Questions of Theology, Morals, Politics, Trade, Language, Poetry, 
 &c., J published about the year 1703. 
 
 ' The "Tatler,"' writes Dr. Chalmers, Mike many other ancient 
 superstructures, rose from small beginnings. It does not appear 
 that the author (Steele) foresaw to what perfection this method of 
 writing could be brought. By dividing each paper into compart- 
 ments, he appears to have consulted the ease with which an 
 author may say a little upon many subjects, who has neither 
 leisure nor inclination to enter deeply on a single topic. This, 
 however, did not proceed either from distrust in his abilities, or in 
 
EARLY ENGLISH ESSAYISTS. 223 
 
 the favour of the public ; for he at once addressed them with con- 
 fidence and familiarity; but it is probable that he did not foresee 
 to what perfection the continued practice of writing will frequently 
 lead a man whose natural endowments are wit and eloquence, 
 superadded to a knowledge of the world, and a habit of observa- 
 tion/ 
 
 The first number of the ' Tatler J bore the motto, 
 
 Quicquid agunt homines— 
 
 nostri est farrago libelli. — Juv. Sat. I. 85, 86. 
 "YVhate'er men do, or say, or think, or dream, 
 Our motley paper seizes for its theme. 
 
 The original sheet appeared on Tuesday, April 12, 1709,* and 
 the days of its publication were fixed to be Tuesdays, Thursdays, 
 and Saturdays. ' In the selection of a name for the work, Steele 
 affords an early instance of delicate raillery, by informing us that 
 the name " Tatler " was invented in honour of the fair sex ; and 
 that in such a character he might indulge with impunity the 
 desultory plan he first laid down, with a becoming imitation of the 
 tattle and gossip of the day.' The first four numbers were given 
 gratis, the price was then fixed at a penny, which was afte) wards 
 doubled. 
 
 Steele, whose humour was most happily adapted to his task, 
 assumed as censor of manners the alias of Isaac Bickerstaff. 
 1 Throughout the whole work,' writes Beattie, ' the conjuror, the 
 politician, the man of humour, the critic ; the seriousness of the 
 moralist, and the mock dignity of the astrologer ; the vivacities 
 and infirmities peculiar to old age, are all so blended and contrasted 
 in the censor of Great Britain as to form a character equally com- 
 plex and natural, equally laughable and respectable/ and as the 
 editor declares, in his proper person, ' the attacks upon prevailing 
 and fashionable vices had been carried forward by Mr. Bickerstaff 
 with a freedom of spirit that would have lost its attraction and 
 efficacy, had it been pretended to by Mr. Steele.' 
 
 A scarce pamphlet, attributed to Gay, draws attention to the 
 
 * Wycherley, in a letter to Pope (May 17, 1709), writes, 'Hitherto your 
 "Miscellanies" have safely run the gauntlet through all the coffee-houses, 
 which are now entertained with a whimsical new newspaper called the 
 " Tatler," which I suppose you have seen.' 
 
224 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 high moral and philosophic purpose which was entertained origi- 
 nally. ' There was this difference between Steele and all the rest 
 of the polite and gallant authors of the time : the latter endeavoured 
 to please the age by falling in with them, and encouraging them in 
 their fashionable vices and false notions of things. It would have 
 been a jest some time since for a man to have asserted that any- 
 thing witty could have been said in praise of a married state ; or 
 that devotion and virtue were any way necessary to the character 
 of a fine gentleman. Bickerstaff ventured to tell the town that 
 they were a parcel of fops, fools, and vain coquettes ; but in such 
 a manner as even pleased them, and made them more than half 
 inclined to believe that he spoke truth.' 
 
 The humorists of the Augustan era were, as the world knows, 
 peculiar objects of regard to the great writer of ' Roundabout 
 Essays' in the age of Queen Victoria. Novels, lectures, and 
 reviews alike prove the industry and affection with which Thackeray 
 conducted his researches amidst the veins of singular richness and 
 congenial material opened to him by the lives and writings of 
 these famous essayists, in such profusion that selection became a 
 point of real art. 
 
 It is not difficult to trace the results of Thackeray's reading 
 among his favourite writers, or to watch its influence on his own 
 compositions. Nor did his regard for these sources of inspiration 
 pass the bounds of reasonable admiration ; he argues convincingly 
 of the authentic importance of his chosen authorities. 
 
 From his minute and intelligent studies of the works of these 
 genial humorists Thackeray acquired a remarkable facility of 
 thinking, spontaneously acknowledged by all his contemporaries, 
 with the felicitous aptitude of the originals, and learned to express 
 his conceptions in language simple, lucid, and sparkling as the 
 outpourings from those pure fonts for which his eagerness may be 
 said to have been unquenched to the end of his career. 
 
 That artist-like local colouring which gives such scholarly value 
 to ' Henry Esmond,' to the ' Virginians,' to the ' Humorists of 
 the Eighteenth Century,' and which was no less manifest in the 
 work which engaged his thoughts when Death lightly touched the 
 novelist's hand, furnishes the evidence of Thackeray's familiarity 
 with, and command of, the quaintest, wittiest, wisest, and pleas- 
 antest writings in our language. 
 
THE 'TATLER. 225 
 
 It will be felt by readers who realise Thackeray in his familiar 
 association with the kindred early humorists, that the merry 
 passages his pencil has italicised by droll marginal sketches are, 
 with all their suggestive slightness, in no degree unworthy of the 
 conceits to which they give a new interest ; while in some cases, 
 with playful whimsicality, they present a reading entirely novel. 
 The fidelity of costume and appointments, even in this miniature 
 state, confirms the diligence and thought with which the author of 
 1 Henry Esmond ' pursued every detail which illustrated his 
 cherished period, and which might serve as a basis for its consistent 
 reconstruction, to carry his reader far back up the stream of time. 
 
 The necessity of compressing within the limits of this volume 
 our selections from the comparatively exhaustless field of the 
 humorous essayists, necessarily renders the paragraphs elucidated 
 by Thackeray's quaint etchings somewhat fragmentary and abrupt, 
 while the miscellaneous nature of the topics thus indiscriminately 
 touched on may be best set forth according to the advertisement 
 with which Swift ushered in his memorable ' Number One ' : 
 
 ' All accounts of gallantry, pleasure, and entertainment shall 
 be under the article of Whites Chocolate-house;* poetry, under 
 that of Will's Coffee-house ;f learning, under the title of Grecian ;% 
 foreign and domestic news, you will have from Saint James's 
 Coffee-house; and what else I have to offer on any other subject 
 shall be dated from my own apartment. § 
 
 ' I once more desire my reader to consider, that as I cannot 
 keep an ingenious man to go daily to Will's under twopence 
 each day, merely for his charges; to White's, under sixpence; 
 nor to the Grecian, without allowing him some plain Spanish, to 
 be as able as others at the learned table; and that a good 
 observer cannot speak with even Kidney (the waiter) at St. 
 James's without clean linen ; I say, these considerations will, I 
 hope, make all persons willing to comply with my humble request 
 (when my gratis stock is exhausted) of a penny apiece ; especially 
 
 * White's Chocolate-house was then lower down St. James's Street, and 
 on the opposite side to its present site. 
 
 + Will's Coffee-house was on the north side of Russell Street, Covent 
 Garden, now No. 23 Great Russell Street. 
 
 I The ' Grecian ' was in Devereux Court, Strand. 
 
 § ' Shire Lane ' was also the heading of numerous papers. 
 
 Q 
 
226 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 since they are sure of some proper amusement, and that it is 
 impossible for me to want means to entertain them, having, 
 besides the force of my own parts, the power of divination, and 
 that I can, by casting a figure, tell you all that may happen before 
 it comes to pass.' 
 
 No. 5. The 'Tatter.'— April 21, 1709. 
 
 Who names that lost thing love without a tear, 
 Since so debauch'd by ill-bred customs here ? 
 To an exact perfection they have brought 
 The action love, the passion is forgot. 
 
 * This was long ago a witty author's lamentation, but the evil 
 still continues ; and if a man of any delicacy were to attend the 
 discourses of the young fellows of this age, he would believe there 
 were none but the fallen to make the objects of passion. So true 
 it is what the author of the above verses said, a little before his 
 death', of the modern pretenders to gallantry : "They set up for 
 wits in this age, by saying, when they are sober, what they of the 
 last spoke only when they were drunk." But Cupid is not only 
 blind at present, but dead drunk ; and he has lost all his faculties \ 
 else how should Celia be so long a maid, with that agreeable be- 
 haviour? Corinna, with that sprightly wit? Serbia, with that 
 heavenly voice ? and Sacharissa, with all those excellences in one 
 person, frequent the park, the play, and murder the poor Tits that 
 drag her to public places, and not a man turn pale at her appear- 
 ance ? But such is the fallen state of love, that if it were not for 
 honest Cynthio, who is true to the cause, we should hardly have 
 a pattern left of the ancient worthies in that way ; and indeed he 
 has but very little encouragement to persevere. Though Cynthio 
 has wit, good sense, fortune, and his very being depends upon her, 
 the termagant for whom he sighs is in love with a fellow who stares 
 in the glass all the time he is with her, and lets her plainly see she 
 may possibly be his rival, but never his mistress. Yet Cynthio 
 pleases himself with a vain imagination that, with the language of 
 his eyes, now he has found out who she is, he shall conquer her, 
 though her eyes are intent upon one who looks from her, which is 
 ordinary with the sex. 
 
 ' It is certainly a mistake in the ancients to draw the little gen- 
 
the i tatler: 227 
 
 tleman Love as a blind boy, for his real character is a little thief 
 
 that squints ; for ask Mrs. Meddle, who is a confidante or spy 
 
 upon all the passions in town, and she will tell you that the whole 
 
 is a game of cross purposes. The lover is generally pursuing one 
 
 who is in pursuit of another, and running from 
 
 one that desires to meet him. Nay, the nature 
 
 of this passion is so justly represented in a 
 
 squinting little thief (who is always in a double 
 
 action), that do but observe Clarissa next time 
 
 you see her, and you will find, when her eyes 
 
 have made their soft tour round the company 
 
 she makes no stay on him they say she is to 
 
 marry, but rests two seconds of a minute on 
 
 Wildair, who neither looks nor thinks on her or 
 
 any woman else. However, Cynthio had a bow from her the 
 
 other day, upon which he is very much come to himself; and I 
 
 heard him send his man of an errand yesterday, without any 
 
 manner of hesitation ; a quarter of an hour after which he 
 
 reckoned twenty, remembered he was to sup with a friend, and 
 
 went exactly to his appointment. I sent to know how he did this 
 
 morning, and I find he hath not forgotten that he spoke to me 
 
 yesterday/ 
 
 No, 9. The * Tatler.' — April 30, 1709. 
 
 Pastorella, a lively young lady of eighteen, was under the 
 charge of an aunt, who was anxious to keep her ward in safety, if 
 possible, from herself and her admirers. ' At the same time the 
 good lady knew, by long experience, that a gay inclination curbed 
 too rashly would but run to the greater excesses ; she therefore 
 made use of an ingenious expedient to avoid the anguish of an 
 admonition. You are to know, then, that Miss, with all her 
 flirting and ogling, had also a strong curiosity in her, and was the 
 greatest eaves-dropper breathing. Parisatis (for so her prudent 
 aunt is called) observed this humour, and retires one day to her 
 closet, into which she knew Pastorella would peep and listen to 
 know how she was employed. It happened accordingly • and the 
 young lady saw her good governante on her knees, and, after a 
 mental behaviour, break into these words : " As for the dear 
 
 Q2 
 
228 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 child committed to my care, let her sobriety of carriage and 
 severity of behaviour be such as may make that noble lord, who is 
 taken with her beauty, turn his designs to such as 
 are honourable." Here Parisatis heard her niece 
 nestle closer to the key-hole. She then goes on : 
 " Make her the joyful mother of a numerous and 
 wealthy offspring; and let her carriage be such as. 
 may make this noble youth expect the blessings of 
 a happy marriage, from the singularity of her life, in 
 this loose and censorious age." Miss, having heard 
 enough, sneaks off for fear of discovery, and imme- 
 diately at her glass, alters the setting of her head; 
 then pulls up her tucker, and forms herself into the 
 exact manner of Lindamira ; in a word, becomes a sincere convert 
 to everything that is commendable in a fine young lady ; and two 
 or three such matches as her aunt feigned in her devotions are at 
 this day in her choice. This is the history and original cause of 
 Pastorella's conversion from coquetry. 
 
 ' I scarce remember a greater instance of forbearance in the 
 usual peevish way with which the aged treat the young than this r 
 except that of our famous Noy, whose good nature went so far as 
 to make him put off his admonitions to his son even until after his 
 death; and did not give him his thoughts of him until he came to 
 read that memorable passage in his will : " All the rest of my estate,' 7 
 says he, "I leave to my son Edward, to be squandered as he shall 
 think fit; I leave it him for that purpose, and hope no better from 
 him." A generous disdain, and reflection how little he deserved 
 from so excellent a father, reformed the young man, and made 
 Edward, from an arrant rake, become a fine ge-ntleman.' 
 
 No. 23. The 'Tatler.' — yune 2, 1709. 
 
 The ' Tatler ' relates the instance of a lady who had governed 
 one husband by falling into fits when he opposed her will. Death 
 released this gentleman, and the lady consoled herself quickly 
 with a very agreeable successor, whom she determined to manage 
 by the same method. ' This man knew her little arts, and resolved 
 to break through all tenderness, and be absolute master as soon as 
 occasion offered. One day it happened that a discourse arose 
 
THE ' tatler: 
 
 229 
 
 about furniture ; he was very glad of the occasion, and fell into an 
 invective against china, protesting that he would never let five 
 pounds more of his money be laid out that way as long as he 
 breathed. She immediately fainted— he starts up, as amazed, and 
 calls for help — the maids run up to the closet. He chafes her 
 face, bends her forward, and beats the palms of her hands ; her 
 convulsions increase, and down she tumbles on the floor, where 
 she lies quite dead, in spite of what the whole family, from the 
 nursery to the kitchen, could do for her relief. The kind man 
 
 doubles his care, helps the servants to throw water into her face 
 by full quarts ; and when the sinking part of the fit came again, 
 " Well, my dear," says he, " I applaud your action ; but none of 
 your artifices ; you are quite in other hands than those you passed 
 these pretty passions upon. I must take leave of you until you 
 are more sincere with me : farewell for ever." He was scarce at 
 the stair-head when she followed, and thanked him for her cure, 
 which was so absolute that she gave me this relation herself, to be 
 communicated for the benefit of all the voluntary invalids of her 
 sex.' 
 
 No. 24. The ' Tatler.'— June 4, 1709. 
 
 The 'Tatler' is discoursing of 'pretty fellows,' and 'very 
 pretty fellows,' and enlarging on the qualifications essential to fit 
 them for the characters. 
 
 ' Give me leave, then, to mention three, whom I do not doubt 
 but we shall see make considerable figures ; and these are such as 
 for their Bacchanalian performances must be admitted into this 
 order. They are three brothers, lately landed from Holland ; as 
 yet, indeed, they have not made their public entry, but lodge and 
 
230 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 converse at Wapping. They have merited already, on the water- 
 side, particular titles : the first is called Hogshead ; the second, 
 Culverin ; and the third, Musquet This fraternity is preparing 
 
 for our end of the town, by their 
 ability in the exercises of Bacchus, 
 and measure their time and merit 
 by liquid weight and power of 
 drinking. Hogshead is a pret- 
 tier fellow than Culverin, by two 
 quarts ; and Culverin than Mus- 
 quet, by a full pint. It is to be 
 feared Hogshead is so often too 
 full, and Culverin overloaded, that Musquet will be the only lasting 
 very pretty fellow of the three.' 
 
 No. 28. The 'Tatler.' — June 14, 1709. 
 
 ' To the " Tatler:'— Sir, — I desire the favour of you to decide 
 this question, whether calling a gentleman a smart fellow is an 
 affront or not ? A youth, entering a certain coffee-house, with his 
 cane tied to his button, wearing red-heeled shoes, I thought of 
 
 your description, and could not forbear telling a friend of mine 
 next to me, " There enters a smart fellow." The gentleman 
 hearing it, had immediately a mind to pick a quarrel with me, and 
 desired satisfaction; at which I was more puzzled than at the 
 other, remembering what mention your familiar makes of those 
 that had lost their lives on such occasions. The thing is referred 
 to your judgment; and I expect you to be my second, since you 
 have been the cause of our quarrel. — I am, Sir, &c.' 
 
 1 Now what possible insinuation can there be, that it is a cause 
 
THE 'tatler: 
 
 231 
 
 of quarrel for a man to say he allows a gentleman really to be 
 what his tailor, his hosier, and his milliner have conspired to make 
 him ? I confess, if this person who appeals to me had said he was 
 " not a smart fellow," there had been cause for resentment.' 
 
 No. 34. The ' Tatler.'— June 28, 1709. 
 
 Mr. Bickerstaff has been working certain wonderful effects by 
 prescribing his circumspection-water, which has cured Mrs. Spy of 
 rolling her eyes about in public places. Lady Petulant had made 
 use of it to cure her husband's jealousy, and Lady Gad has cured 
 a whole neighbourhood of detraction. 
 
 'The fame of these things,' continues the Censor-General, 
 ' added to my being an old fellow, makes me extremely acceptable 
 to the fair sex. You would hardly believe me when I tell you 
 there is not a man in town so much their delight as myself. They 
 make no more of visiting me than going to Madam Depingle's ; 
 there were two of them, namely, Dainia and Clidamira (I assure 
 you women of distinction), who came to see me this morning, in 
 their way to prayers ; and being in a very diverting humour (as 
 innocence always makes people cheerful), they would needs have 
 me, according to the distinction of pretty and very pretty fellows, 
 inform them if I thought either of them had a title to the very 
 pretty among those of their own sex; and if I did, which was the 
 most deserving of the two ? 
 
 ' To put them to the trial, " Look ye," said I, " I must not 
 rashly give my judgment in matters of this importance; pray let 
 me see you dance ; I play upon the kit." They immediately fell 
 back to the lower end of the room (you may be sure they curtsied 
 low enough to me), and began. Never were two in the world so 
 equally matched, and both scholars to my namesake Isaac* 
 Never was man in so dangerous a condition as myself, when they 
 began to expand their charms. " Oh ! ladies, ladies/' cried I ; " not 
 half that air ; you will fire the house !" Both smiled, for, by-the-bye, 
 there is no carrying a metaphor too far when a lady's charms are 
 spoken of. Somebody, I think, has called a fine woman dancing 
 
 * Mr. Isaac, a famous dancing-master at that time, was a Frenchman and 
 Roman Catholic. 
 
232 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 " a brandished torch of beauty." These rivals move with such an 
 agreeable freedom that you would believe their gesture was the 
 necessary effect of the music, and not the product of skill and 
 practice. Now Clidamira came on with a crowd of graces, and 
 demanded my judgment with so sweet an air — and she had no 
 sooner carried it, but Dainia made her utterly forgot, by a gentle 
 sinking and a rigadoon step. The contest held a full half hour; 
 and, I protest, I saw no manner of difference in their perfections 
 until they came up together and expected sentence. " Look ye, 
 ladies," said I, " I see no difference in the least in your perform- 
 
 ances; but you, Clidamira, seem to be so well satisfied that I 
 should determine for you, that I must give it to Dainia, who 
 stands with so much diffidence and fear, after showing an equal 
 merit to what she pretends to. Therefore, Clidamira, you are a 
 pretty, but, Dainia, you are a very pretty lady; for/' said I, 
 " beauty loses its force if not accompanied with modesty. She 
 that hath an humble opinion of herself, will have everybody's 
 applause, because she does not expect it ; while the vain creature 
 loses approbation through too great a sense of deserving it." ' 
 
THE ' TA TLER: 233 
 
 No. 36. The ' Tattler.'— July 2, 1709. 
 
 The ' Taller ' inserts a letter on termagant wives and sporting 
 
 tastes : — 
 
 ' Epsom, June 28. 
 
 { It is now almost three weeks since what you writ about hap- 
 pened in this place. The quarrel between my friends did not run 
 so high as I find your accounts have made it. You are to under- 
 stand that the persons concerned in this scene were Lady Autumn 
 and Lady Springly. Autumn is a person of good breeding, 
 formality, and a singular way practised in the last age ; and Lady 
 Springly, a modern impertinent of our sex, who affects as improper 
 a familiarity as the other does distance. These heroines have 
 married two brothers, both knights. Springly is the spouse of 
 the elder, who is a baronet, and Autumn, being a rich widow, has 
 taken the younger, and her purse endowed him with an equal for- 
 tune, and knighthood of the same order. This jumble of titles, 
 you need not doubt, has been an aching torment to Autumn, who 
 took place of the other on no pretence but her carelessness and 
 disregard of distinction. The secret occasion of envy broiled 
 long in the breast of Autumn ; but no opportunity of contention 
 on that subject happening, kept all things quiet until the accident 
 of which you demand an account. 
 
 ' It was given out among all the gay people of this place, that 
 on the ninth instant several damsels, swift of foot, were to run for 
 a suit of head-cloaths at the Old Wells. Lady Autumn, on this 
 occasion, invited Springly to go with her in her coach to see the 
 race. When they came to the place, where the Governor of 
 Epsom and all his court of citizens were assembled, as well as a 
 crowd of people of all orders, a brisk young fellow addressed him- 
 self to the younger of the ladies, viz. Springly, and offers her his 
 services to conduct her into the music-room. Springly accepts 
 the compliment, and is led triumphantly through a bowing crowd, 
 while Autumn is left among the rabble, and has much ado to 
 get back into her coach; but she did it at last, and as it is 
 usual to see, by the horses, my lady's present disposition, she 
 orders John to whip furiously home to her husband ; where, when 
 she enters, down she sits, began to unpin her hood, and lament 
 her foolish fond heart to marry into a family where she was so 
 
234 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 little regarded. Lady Springly, an hour or two after, returns 
 from the Wells, and finds the whole company together. Down 
 she sat, and a profound silence ensued. You know a premedi- 
 tated quarrel usually begins and works up with the words some 
 people. The silence was broken by Lady Autumn, who began to 
 say, " There are some people who fancy, that if some people " — 
 Springly immediately takes her up, " There are some people who 
 fancy, if other people " — Autumn repartees, " People may give 
 themselves airs ; but other people, perhaps, who make less ado, 
 may be, perhaps, as agreeable as people who set themselves out 
 more." All the other people at the table sat mute, while these 
 two people, who were quarrelling, went on with the use of the 
 word people, instancing the very accidents between them, as if they 
 kept only in distant hints. Therefore, says Autumn, reddening, 
 " There are some people will go abroad in other people's coaches, 
 and leave those with whom they went to shift for themselves ; and 
 if, perhaps, those people have married the younger brother, yet, 
 perhaps, he may be beholden to those people for what he is." 
 Springly smartly answers, " People may bring so much ill humour 
 into a family, as people may repent their receiving their money," 
 and goes on — " Everybody is not considerable enough to give her 
 uneasiness.'' 
 
 ' Upon this Autumn comes up to her, and desired her to kiss 
 her, and never to see her again; which her sister refusing, my 
 lady gave her a box on the ear. Springly returns, " Ay, ay," said 
 
 she, "I knew well enough you meant me by your some people ;" 
 and gives her another on the other side. To it they went, with 
 most masculine fury; each husband ran in. The wives imme- 
 diately fell upon their husbands, and tore periwigs and cravats. 
 The company interposed ; when (according to the slip-knot of 
 matrimony, which makes them return to one another when anyone 
 
the i tatler: 235 
 
 puts in between) the ladies and their husbands fell upon all 
 the rest of the company; and, having beat all their friends and 
 relations out of the house, came to themselves time enough to 
 know there was no bearing the jest of the place after these adven- 
 tures, and therefore marched off the next day. It is said, the 
 governor has sent several joints of mutton, and has proposed 
 divers dishes, very exquisitely dressed, to bring them down again. 
 From his address and knowledge in roast and boiled, all our 
 hopes of the return of this good company depend. 
 ' I am, dear Jenny, 
 
 1 Your ready friend and servant, 
 
 ' Martha Tatter.' 
 
 No. 37. The 'Tatler.' — July 5, 1709. 
 
 The ' Tatler ' is discoursing of country squires, with fox- 
 hunting tastes, and how in their rough music of the field they 
 outdo the best Italian singers for noise and volume. One of 
 these worthies is described on a visit in genteel society in town. 
 ' Mr. Bellfrey being at a visit where I was, viz. at his cousin's 
 (Lady Dainty's), in Soho Square, was asked what entertainments 
 they had in the country. Now, Bellfrey is very ignorant, and 
 much a clown ; but confident withal : in a word, he struck up a 
 fox-chase; Lady Dainty's dog, Mr. Sippet, as she calls him, 
 started, jumped out of his lady's lap, and fell a barking. Bellfrey 
 went on, and called all the neighbouring parishes into the square. 
 Never was woman in such confusion as that delicate lady; but 
 there was no stopping her kinsman. A roomful of ladies fell into 
 the most violent laughter ; my lady looked as if she was shriek- 
 ing ; Mr. Sippet, in the middle of the room, breaking his heart 
 with barking, but all of us unheard. As soon as Bellfrey became 
 silent, up gets my lady, and takes 
 him by the arm, to lead him off. 
 Bellfrey was in his boots. As she 
 was hurrying him away, his spurs 
 take hold of her petticoat; his 
 whip throws down a cabinet of 
 
 china : he cries, " What ! are your ^^*&^~~ ~~~ ^ ^_^s^ - 
 crocks rotten ? are your petticoats ragged ? A man cannot walk 
 in your house for trincums." ' 
 
236 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 No. 38. The < Tatler.'— July 7, 1709. 
 
 The practice of duelling had been early discountenanced by 
 the ' Tatler.' An altercation after a stock-broking transaction was 
 settled in the fashion thus reported in its pages : — 
 
 ' . . . However, having sold the bear, and words arising about 
 the delivery, the most noble major, according to method, abused 
 the other with the titles of rogue, villain, bear-skin man, and the 
 like. Whereupon satisfaction was demanded and accepted, and 
 forth they marched to a most spacious room 
 in the sheriffs house, where, having due re- 
 gard to what you have lately published, yet 
 not willing to put up with affronts without 
 satisfaction, they stripped and in decent 
 manner fought full fairly with their wrathful 
 hands. The combat lasted a quarter of an 
 hour; in which time victory was often doubtful, until the major, 
 finding his adversary obstinate, unwilling to give him further chas- 
 tisement, with most shrill voice cried out, " I am satisfied ! 
 enough ! " whereupon the combat ceased, and both were friends 
 immediately.' 
 
 No. 41. The 'Tatler.' — July 14, 1709. 
 
 A battle fought in the very streets of London by the Volunteers 
 of 1709, from their head-quarters, the Artillery Ground, Moorgate, 
 is thus described by one of the Grub Street auxiliaries : — 
 
 ' Indeed, I am extremely concerned for the lieutenant-general, 
 who by his overthrow and defeat is made a deplorable instance of 
 the fortune of war, and the vicissitudes of human 
 affairs. He, alas ! has lost in Beech Lane and 
 Chiswell Street all the glory he lately gained in and 
 about Holborn and St. Giles's. The art of sub- 
 dividing first and dividing afterwards is new and 
 surprising ; and according to this method the troops 
 are disposed in King's Head Court and Red Lion 
 Market, nor is the conduct of these leaders less 
 conspicuous in the choice of the ground, or field 
 of battle. Happy was it that the greatest part of 
 the achievements of this day was to be performed near Grub 
 
THE l TATLER: 237 
 
 Street, that there might not be wanting a sufficient number of 
 faithful historians who, being eye-witnesses of these wonders, 
 should impartially transmit them to posterity ! but then it can 
 never be enough regretted that we are left in the dark as to the 
 name and title of that extraordinary hero who commanded the 
 divisions in Paul's Alley ; especially because those divisions are 
 justly styled brave, and accordingly were to push the enemy along 
 Bunhill Row, and thereby occasion a general battle. But Pallas 
 appeared, in the form of a shower of rain, and prevented the 
 slaughter and desolation which were threatened by these extraor- 
 dinary preparations.' 
 
 No. 45. The 'Tatler.' — July 23, 1709. 
 
 Mr. Bickerstaff, having paid a visit to Oxford, has spent the 
 evening with some merry wits, and, after his custom, he relates 
 the adventures of the evening to furnish a paper for the 
 'Tatler':— 
 
 1 1 am got hither safe, but never spent time with so little satis- 
 faction as this evening ; for, you must know, I was five hours with 
 three merry and two honest fellows. The former sang catches 
 and the latter even died with laughing at the noise they made. 
 "Well," says Tom Bellfrey, "you scholars, Mr. Bickerstaff, are 
 the worst company in the world." " Ay," says his opposite, " you 
 are dull to-night ; prythee, 
 be merry." With that I 
 huzzaed, and took a jump 
 across the table, then came 
 clever upon my legs, and 
 fell a laughing. " Let Mr. 
 Bickerstaff alone," says one of the honest fellows ; " when he is in 
 a good humour, he is as good company as any man in England." 
 He had no sooner spoke, but I snatched his hat off his head, and 
 clapped it upon my own, and burst out a laughing again ; upon 
 which we all fell a laughing for half an hour. One of the honest 
 fellows got behind me in the interim and hit me a sound slap on 
 the back ; upon which he got the laugh out of my hands ; and 
 it was such a twang on my shoulders, that I confess he was 
 much merrier than I. I was half angry, but resolved to keep 
 up the good humour of the company; and after hallooing as 
 
238 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 loud as I could possibly, I drank off a bumper of claret that 
 made me stare again. " Nay," says one of the honest fellows, 
 " Mr. Isaac is in the right ; there is no conversation in this : 
 what signifies jumping or hitting one another on the back? let 
 us drink about." We did so from seven of the clock until eleven ; 
 and now 1 am. come hither, and, after the manner of the wise 
 Pythagoras, began to reflect upon the passages of the day. I re- 
 member nothing but that I am bruised to death ; and as it is my 
 way to write down all the good things I have heard in the last 
 conversation, to furnish my paper, I can from this only tell you 
 my sufferings and my bangs.' 
 
 No. 46. The 'Tatter.'— yuly 26, 1709. 
 
 Aurengezebe, a modern Eastern potentate, is described as 
 amusing his later years by playing the grand Turk to the Sultanas 
 of Little Britain. 
 
 ' There is,' proceeds the account, ' a street near Covent Garden 
 known by the name of Drury, which, before the days of Chris- 
 tianity, was purchased by the Queen of Paphos, and is the only 
 part of Great Britain where the tenure of vassalage is still in 
 being. . . . This seraglio is disposed into convenient alleys and 
 apartments, and every house, from the cellar to the garret, inha- 
 bited by nymphs of different orders. 
 
 ' Here it is that, when Aurengezebe thinks fit to give loose to 
 dalliance, the purveyors prepare the entertainment ; and what 
 makes it more august is, that every person concerned in the inter- 
 lude has his set part, and the prince sends beforehand word what 
 he designs to say, and directs also the 
 very answer which shall be made to him. 
 ' The entertainment is introduced by 
 the matron of the temple ; whereon an 
 unhappy nymph, who is to be supposed 
 J just escapedfrom the hands of a ravisher, 
 with her tresses dishevelled, runs into 
 the room with a dagger in her hand, and falls before the emperor. 
 ' " Pity, oh ! pity, whoever thou art, an unhappy virgin, whom 
 one of thy train has robbed of her innocence ; her innocence, 
 which was all her portion — or rather let me die like the memorable 
 
THE < tatler: 
 
 ■39 
 
 Lucretia ! " Upon which she stabs herself. The body is immedi- 
 ately examined, Lucretia recovers by a cup of right Nantz, and 
 the matron, who is her next relation, stops all process at law.' 
 
 Similar extraordinary entertainments continue the evening, 
 which concludes in a distribution of largesse by the fictitious 
 sultan. 
 
 No. 47. The ' Tatler.' — July 28, 1709. 
 
 The ' Tatler ' describes an incident of Sir Taffety Trippet, a 
 fortune-hunter, whose follies, according to Mr. BickerstafT, are too 
 gross to give diversion ; and whose vanity is 
 too stupid to let him be sensible that he is a 
 public offence. 
 
 ' It happened that, when he first set up for 
 a fortune-hunter, he chose Tunbridge for the 
 scene of action, where were at that time two 
 sisters upon the same design. The knight 
 believed, of course, the elder must be the 
 better prize ; and consequently makes all 
 sail that way. People that want sense do 
 always in an egregious manner want mo- 
 desty, which made our hero triumph in 
 making his amour as public as was possible. 
 The adored lady was no less vain of his 
 public addresses. An attorney with one 
 cause is not half so restless as a woman with one lover. Wher- 
 ever they met, they talked to each other aloud, chose each other 
 partner at balls, saluted at the most conspicuous part of the 
 service of the church, and practised, in honour of each other, all 
 the remarkable particularities which are usual for persons who 
 admire one another, and are contemptible to the rest of the world. 
 These two lovers seemed as much made for each other as Adam 
 and Eve, and all pronounced it a match of nature's own making ■ 
 but the night before the nuptials, so universally approved, the 
 younger sister, envious of the good fortune even of her sister, who 
 had been present at most of the interviews, and had an equal taste 
 for the charm of a fop, as there are a set of women made for that 
 order of men ; the younger, I say, unable to see so rich a prize 
 
2 4 o THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 pass by her, discovered to Sir Taffety that a coquet air, much 
 tongue, and three suits was all the portion of his mistress. His 
 love vanished that moment \ himself and equipage the next 
 morning.' 
 
 No. 52. The ' Tatler.' — Aug. 9, 1709. 
 'Delamira resigns her Fan. 
 
 ' When the beauteous Delamira had published her intention of 
 entering the bonds of matrimony, the matchless Virgulta, whose 
 charms had made no satires, thus besought her to confide the 
 secret of her triumphs : — 
 
 ' " Delamira ! you are now going into that state of life wherein 
 the use of your charms is wholly to be applied to the pleasing 
 only one man. That swimming air of your body, that jaunty 
 bearing of your head over one shoulder, and that inexpressible 
 beauty in your manner of playing your fan, must be lowered into 
 a more confined behaviour, to show that you would rather shun 
 than receive addresses for the future. Therefore, dear Delamira, 
 give me those excellences you leave off, and acquaint me with 
 your manner of charming ; for I take the liberty of our friendship 
 to say, that when I consider my own stature, mo- 
 tion, complexion, wit, or breeding, I cannot think 
 myself any way your inferior ; yet do I go through 
 crowds without wounding a man, and all my 
 acquaintance marry round me while I live a virgin 
 masked, and I think unregarded." 
 
 ' Delamira heard her with great attention, and, 
 with that dexterity which is natural to her, told 
 her that " all she had above the rest of her sex and contemporary 
 beauties was wholly owing to a fan (that was left her by her 
 mother, and had been long in the family), which whoever had in 
 possession and used with skill, should command the hearts of all 
 her beholders ; and since," said she, smiling^ " I have no more to 
 do with extending my conquests or triumphs, I will make you a 
 present of this inestimable rarity." Virgulta made her expressions 
 of the highest gratitude for so uncommon a confidence in her, and 
 desired she would " show her what was peculiar in the manage- 
 ment of that utensil, which rendered it of such general force when 
 
the i tatler: 24I 
 
 she was mistress of it." Delamira replied, "You see, madam, 
 Cupid is the principal figure painted on it ; and the skill in play- 
 ing the fan is, in your several motions of it, to let him appear as 
 little as possible ; for honourable lovers fly all endeavours to 
 ensnare them, and your Cupid must hide his bow and arrow, 
 or he will never be sure of his game. You observe," continued 
 she, " that in all public assemblies the sexes seem to separate 
 themselves, and draw up to attack each other with eye- shot : that 
 is the time when the fan, which is all the armour of a woman, is 
 of most use in our defence ; for our minds are construed by the 
 waving of that little instrument, and our thoughts appear in com- 
 posure or agitation according to the motion of it." ' 
 
 No. 57. The 'Tatler.' — Aug. 20, 1709. 
 
 The ' Tatler ' transcribes from La Bruyere an extract, which he 
 introduces as 'one of the most elegant pieces of raillery and 
 satire.' La Bruyere describes the French as if speaking of a people 
 not yet discovered, in the air and style of a traveller : — 
 
 * I have heard talk of a country where the old men are gallant, 
 polite, and civil; the young men, on the contrary, stubborn, wild, 
 without either manners or civility. Amongst these people, he is 
 sober who is never drunk with anything but wine ; the too fre- 
 quent use of it having rendered it flat and insipid to them : they 
 endeavour by brandy, or other strong liquors, to quicken their 
 taste, already extinguished, and want nothing to complete their 
 debauches but to drink aqua-fortis. The women of that country 
 hasten the decay of their beauty by their artifices 
 to preserve it ; they paint their cheeks, eye-brows, 
 and shoulders, which they lay open, together with 
 their breasts, arms, and ears, as if they were afraid 
 to hide those places which they think will please, 
 and never think they show enough of them. 
 
 'The physiognomies of the people of that 
 country are not at all neat, but confused and em- 
 barrassed with a bundle of strange hair, which they 
 prefer before their natural ; with this they weave 
 something to cover their heads, which descends half way down 
 their bodies, hides their features, and hinders you from knowing 
 
 R 
 
242 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 men by their faces. This nation has, besides this, their god and 
 their king. 
 
 * The grandees go every day, at a certain hour, to a temple 
 they call a church : at the upper end of that temple there stands 
 an altar consecrated to their god, where the priest celebrates some 
 mysteries which they call holy, sacred, and tremendous. The 
 great men make a vast circle at the foot of the altar, standing with 
 their backs to the priests and the holy mysteries, and their faces 
 erected towards their king, who is seen on his knees upon a 
 throne, and to whom they seem to direct the desires of their hearts, 
 and all their devotion. However, in this custom there is to be 
 remarked a sort of subordination ; for the people appear adoring 
 their prince and their prince adoring God.' 
 
 No. 61. The 'Tatler.'— Aug. 30, 1709. 
 
 Mr. Bickerstaff is musing on the degeneracy of the fair, and on 
 the changes which beauty has undergone since his youth. 
 
 ' We have,' he argues, ' no such thing as a standard for good 
 breeding. I was the other day at my Lady Wealthy's, and asked 
 one of her daughters how she did. She answered, " She never 
 conversed with men." The same day I visited at my Lady Plant- 
 well's, and asked her daughter the same question. She answers, 
 " What is that to you, you old thief? " and gives me a slap on the 
 shoulders. . . . 
 
 1 1 will not answer for it, but it may be that I (like other old 
 fellows) have a fondness for the fashions and manners which pre- 
 vailed when I was young and in 
 fashion myself. But certain it is 
 that the taste of youth and beauty 
 is very much lowered. The fine 
 women they show me now-a-days 
 are at best but pretty girls to me 
 who have seen Sacharissa, when all 
 the world repeated the poems she 
 inspired ; and Villaria (the Duchess 
 of Cleveland), when a youthful king was her subject. The things 
 you follow and make songs on now should be sent to knit, or sit 
 down to bobbins or bone-lace : they are indeed neat, and so are 
 
THE 'TATLER. 
 
 243 
 
 their sempstresses ; they are pretty, and so are their handmaids. 
 Eut that graceful motion, that awful mien, and that winning 
 attraction, which grew upon them from the thoughts and conversa- 
 tions they met with in my time, are now no more seen. They 
 tell me I am old : I am glad I am so, for I do not like your pre- 
 sent young ladies.' 
 
 No. 64. The 'Tatler.' — Sept. 6, 1709. 
 
 ' " * ^ * Lost, from the Cocoa-tree, in Pall 
 Mall, two Irish dogs, belonging to the pack of 
 London ; one a tall white wolf dog ; the other 
 a black nimble greyhound, not very sound, and 
 supposed to be gone to the Bath, by instinct, 
 for cure. The man of the inn from whence they 
 ran, being now there, is desired, if he meets 
 either of them, to tie them up. Several others 
 are lost about Tunbridge and Epsom, which, 
 whoever will maintain, may keep." ' 
 
 No. 67. The 'Tatler.' — Sept. 13, 1709. 
 
 The * Tatler ' proposes to work upon the post, to estab- 
 lish a charitable society, from which there shall go every day 
 circular letters to all parts, within the bills of mortality, to tell 
 people of their faults in a friendly manner, whereby they may know 
 what the world thinks of them. An example follows, which had 
 been already sent, by way of experiment, without success : — 
 
 ' " Madam, — Let me beg of you to take off the patches at the 
 lower end of your left cheek, and I will allow two more under your 
 left eye, which will contribute more to the symmetry 
 of your face ; except you would please to remove 
 the two black atoms on your ladyship's chin, and 
 wear one large patch instead of them. If so, you 
 may properly enough retain the three patches above 
 mentioned. I am, &c." 
 
 i This I thought had all the civility and reason 
 in the world in it ; but whether my letters are 
 intercepted, or whatever it is, the lady patches as she used to do. 
 
244 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 It is observed by all the charitable society, as an instruction in 
 their epistles, that they tell people of nothing but what is in their 
 power to mend. I shall give another instance of this way of 
 writing : two sisters in Essex Street are eternally gaping out of the 
 window, as if they knew not the value of time, or would call in 
 companions. Upon which I writ the following line : — 
 
 "'Dear Creatures, — On the receipt of this, shutyour casements." 
 * But I went by yesterday, and found them still at the window. 
 What can a man do in this case, but go in and wrap himself up in 
 his own integrity, with satisfaction only in this melancholy truth, 
 that virtue is its own reward ; and that if no one is the better for 
 his admonitions, yet he is himself the more virtuous, in that he 
 gave those advices ? ' 
 
 No. 79. The ' Tatler.' — Oct. 11, 1709. 
 
 married. The 
 iff ' to be above 
 
 Mr. BickerstafFs sister Jenny is going to be 
 * Tatler ' tells the following anecdote, as a warnii _ 
 trifles : ' — 
 
 * This, dear Jenny, is the reason that the quarrel between Sir 
 Harry and his lady, which began about her squirrel, is irrecon- 
 cilable. Sir Harry was reading a grave author • she runs into his 
 study, and, in a playing humour, claps the squirrel upon the folio : 
 
 he threw the animal, in 
 ^ a rage, on the floor; she- 
 snatches it up again,, 
 calls Sir Harry a sour 
 pedant, without good- 
 nature or good man- 
 ners. This cast him 
 into such a rage, that 
 he threw down the table before him, kicked the book round the 
 room, then recollected himself: "Lord, madam," said he, "why 
 did you run into such expressions ? I was," said he, " in the- 
 highest delight with that author when you clapped your squirrel 
 upon my book ; " and smiling, added upon recollection, " I have 
 a great respect for your favourite, and pray let us be all friends." 
 My lady was so far from accepting this apology, that she immedi- 
 ately conceived a resolution to keep him under for ever, and, with. 
 
THE 'TATLER. 
 
 245 
 
 a serious air, replied, " There is no regard to be had to what a man 
 says who can fall into so indecent a rage and an abject submission 
 in the same moment, for which I absolutely despise you." Upon 
 which she rushed out of the room. Sir Harry stayed some minutes 
 behind, to think and command himself; after which he followed 
 her into her bed-chamber, where she was prostrate upon the bed, 
 tearing her hair, and naming twenty coxcombs who would have 
 
 used her otherwise. This provoked him to so high a degree that 
 he forbade nothing but beating her ; and all the servants in the 
 family were at their several stations listening, whilst the best man 
 and woman, the best master and mistress, defamed each other in a 
 way that is not to be repeated even at Billingsgate. You know 
 this ended in an immediate separation : she longs to return home, 
 but knows not how to do it ; and he invites her home every day. 
 Her husband requires no submission of her ; but she thinks her 
 very return will argue she is to blame, which she is resolved to be 
 for ever, rather than acknowledge it.' 
 
246 THA CKERA VAN A. 
 
 No. 86. The ' Tatler.'— Oct. 27, 1709. 
 
 ' When I came home last night, my servant delivered me the 
 following letter : — 
 
 ' " Sir, — I have orders from Sir Harry Quickset, of Stafford- 
 shire, Baronet, to acquaint you, that his honour, Sir Harry himself; 
 Sir Giles Wheelbarrow, Knight ; Thomas Rentfree, Esquire, justice 
 of the quorum ; Andrew Windmill, Esquire ; and Mr. Nicolas 
 Doubt, of the Inner Temple, Sir Harry's grandson, will wait upon 
 you at the hour of nine to-morrow morning, being Tuesday, the 
 twenty-fifth of October, upon business which Sir Harry will impart 
 to you by word of mouth. I thought it proper to acquaint you 
 beforehand, so many persons of quality came, that you might not 
 be surprised therewith. Which concludes, though by many years' 
 absence since I saw you at Stafford, unknown, Sir, your most 
 humble servant, < « John Thrifty." 
 
 ' I received this note with less surprise than I believe Mr. 
 Thrifty imagined ; for I know the good company too well to feel 
 any palpitations at their approach : but I was in very great con- 
 cern how I could adjust the ceremonial, and demean myself to all 
 these great men, who perhaps had not seen anything above them- 
 selves for these twenty years last past. I am sure that is the case 
 of Sir Harry. Besides which, I was sensible that there was a great 
 point in adjusting my behaviour to the simple squire, so as to give 
 him satisfaction, and not disoblige the justice of the quorum. 
 
 'The hour of nine was come this morning, and I had no 
 sooner set chairs, by the steward's letter, and fixed my tea- 
 equipage, but I heard a knock at my door, which was opened, but 
 no one entered ; after which followed a long silence, which was at 
 last broken by, " Sir, I beg your pardon ; I think I know better : " 
 
 and another voice, " Nay, good Sir Giles " I looked out 
 
 from my window, and saw the good company all with their hats, 
 off, and arms spread, offering the door to each other. After many 
 offers, they entered with much solemnity, in the order Mr. Thrifty 
 was so kind as to name them to me. But they had now got to 
 my chamber-door, and I saw my old friend Sir Harry enter. I 
 met him with all the respect due to so reverend a vegetable ; for 
 you are to know that is my sense of a person who remains idle in 
 
THE 'tatler: 
 
 247 
 
 the same place for half a century. I got him with' great success 
 into his chair by the fire, without throwing down any of my cups. 
 The knight-bachelor told me, " he had a great respect for my 
 whole family, and would, with my leave, place himself next to Sir 
 Harry, at whose right hand he had sat at every quarter- sessions 
 these thirty years, unless he was sick." The steward in the rear 
 whispered the young templar, " That is true to my knowledge." 
 I had the misfortune, as they stood cheek by jole, to desire the 
 squire to sit down before the justice of the quorum, to the no 
 small satisfaction of the former, and the resentment of the latter. 
 But I saw my error too late, and got them as soon as I could into 
 their seats. " Well," said I, " gentlemen, after I have told you 
 hov glad I am of this great honour, I am to desire you to drink a 
 dish of tea." They answered one and all, " that they never drank 
 tea of a morning." " Not drink tea of a morning ?" said I, staring 
 
 round me. Upon which the pert jackanapes, Nic Doubt, tipped 
 me the wink, and put out his tongue at his grandfather. Here 
 followed a profound silence, when the steward, in his boots and 
 whip, proposed, " that we should adjourn to some public house, 
 where everybody might call for what they pleased, and enter upon 
 the business." We all stood up in an instant, and Sir Harry filed 
 off from the left, very discreetly, countermarching behind the 
 chairs towards the door. After him Sir Giles, in the same manner. 
 The simple squire made a sudden start to follow ; but the justice 
 of the quorum whipped between upon the stand of the stairs. A 
 maid, going up with coals, made us halt, and put us into such con- 
 fusion that we stood all in a heap, without any visible possibility of 
 recovering our order ; for the young jackanapes seemed to make a 
 jest of this matter, and had so contrived, by pressing in amongst 
 us, under pretence of making way, that his grandfather was got 
 into the middle, and he knew nobody was of quality to stir a step 
 
248 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 until Sir Harry moved first. We were fixed in this perplexity for 
 some time, until we heard a very loud noise in the street ; and Sir 
 Harry asking what it was, I, to make them move, said, "it was 
 fire." Upon this all ran down as fast as they could, without order 
 or ceremony, until we got into the street, where we drew up in 
 very good order, and filed down Sheer Lane ; the impertinent 
 templar driving us before him as in a string, and pointing to his 
 acquaintance who passed by. When we came to Dick's coffee- 
 house we were at our old difficulty, and took up the streex upon 
 the same ceremony. We proceeded through the entry, and were 
 so necessarily kept in order by the situation that we were now got 
 into the coffee-house itself; where, as soon as we arrived, we 
 repeated our civilities to each other : after which we marched up 
 to the high table, which has an ascent to it inclosed in the middle 
 of the room. The whole house was alarmed at this entry, made 
 up of persons of so much state and rusticity. Sir Harr y cal led for 
 a mug of ale and " Dyer's Letter." " The boy brought the ale ir an 
 instant, but said, " they did not take in the letter." " No ! " says 
 Sir Harry, " then take back your mug ; we are like indeed to have 
 good liquor at this house ! " Here the templar tipped m- a 
 second wink, and, if I had not looked very grave upon him, I 
 found he was disposed to be very familiar with me. In short, I 
 observed, after a long pause, that the gentlemen did not care to 
 enter upon business until after their morning draught, for which 
 reason I called for a bottle of mum ; and finding that had no effect 
 upon them, I ordered a second, and a third ; after which Sir 
 Harry reached over to me, and told me in a low voice, " that place 
 was too public for business ; but he would call upon me again to- 
 morrow morning at my own lodgings, and bring some more friends 
 with him." ' 
 
 No. 88. The : Tatler.'— Nov. i, 1709. 
 
 The ' Tatler ' has been much surprised by the manoeuvres of a 
 
 studious neighbour. 
 
 ' From my own Apartment, October 31. 
 
 1 1 was this morning awakened by a sudden shake of the 
 house ; and as soon as I had got a little out of my consternation, 
 1 felt another, which was followed by two or three repetitions of 
 the same convulsion. I got up as fast as possible, girt on my rapier, 
 
the <tatler: 
 
 249 
 
 %4 
 
 T 
 
 E 
 
 and snatched up my hat, when my landlady came up to me, and 
 told me, "that the gentlewoman of the next house begged me to 
 step thither, for that a lodger that she had taken in was run mad; • 
 and she desired my advice." I went immediately. Our neighbour 
 told us, "she had the day before let her 
 second floor to a very genteel youngish man, 
 who told her he kept extraordinary good 
 hours, and was generally at home most part 
 of the morning and evening at study ; but 
 that this morning he had for an hour to- 
 gether made this extravagent noise which we 
 then heard. " I went up stairs with my hand 
 upon the hilt of my rapier, and approached 
 this new lodger's door. I looked in at the 
 key -hole, and there I saw a well-made man 
 look with great attention on a book, and on 
 a sudden jump into the air so high, that his 
 head almost touched the ceiling. He came 
 down safe on his right foot, and again flew 
 up, alighting on his left ; then looked again 
 at his book, and, holding out his leg, put it 
 into such a quivering motion, that I thought 
 that he would have shaken it off. He used 
 the left after the same manner, when on a 
 sudden, to my great surprise, he stooped 
 himself incredibly low, and turned gently on 
 his toes. After this circular motion, he con- 
 tinued bent in that humble posture for some 
 time looking on his book. After this, he re- 
 covered himself with a sudden spring, and 
 flew round the room in all the violence and 
 disorder imaginable, until he made a full pause 
 for want of breath. In this interim my woman 
 asked " what I thought ? " I whispered " that 
 I thought this learned person an enthusiast, who possibly had his 
 education in the Peripatetic way, which was a sect of philosophers, 
 who always studied when walking." Observing him much out of 
 breath, I thought it the best time to master him if he were dis- 
 ordered, and knocked at his door. I was surprised to find him 
 
 ill 
 
2$0 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 open it, and say with great civility and good mien, "that he hoped 
 he had not disturbed us." I believed him in a lucid interval, and 
 desired "he would please to let me see his book." He did so. 
 smiling. I could not make anything of it, and, therefore, asked 
 " in what language it was writ ? " He said, " it was one he studied 
 with great application ; but it was his profession to teach it, and 
 could not communicate his knowledge without a consideration." I 
 answered that I hoped he would hereafter keep his thoughts to him- 
 self, for his meditations this morning had cost me three coffee dishes 
 and a clean pipe. He seemed concerned at that, and told me " he 
 was a dancing master, and had been reading a dance or two before 
 he went out, which had been written by one who taught at an 
 academy in France." He observed me at a stand, and informed 
 me, " that now articulate motions as well as sounds were expressed 
 by proper characters ; and that there is nothing so common as to 
 communicate a dance by a letter." I besought him hereafter to 
 meditate in a ground room, for that otherwise it would be impos- 
 sible for an artist of any other kind to live near him, and that I 
 was sure several of his thoughts this morning would have shaken 
 my spectacles off my nose, had I been myself at study.' 
 
 No. 91. The 'Tatler.' — Nov. 8, 1709. 
 
 One of the celebrated beauties of 1709 pays the ' Tatler ' a 
 friendly visit to obtain his counsel on the choice of her future 
 husband, being perplexed between two suitors — between inclina- 
 tion on one hand and riches on the other. 
 
 ' From my own Apartment, November 7. 
 1 1 was very much surprised this evening with a visit from one 
 
 of the top Toasts of the 
 town, who came privately 
 in a chair, and bolted 
 into my room, while I 
 was reading a chapter of 
 Agrippa upon the occult 
 sciences ; but, as she en- 
 tered with all the air and 
 bloom that nature ever bestowed on woman, I threw down the 
 conjurer and met the charmer. I had no sooner placed her at my 
 
THE 'TATLER: 251 
 
 right hand by the fire, but she opened to me the reason of her visit. 
 " Mr. Bickerstaff," said the fine creature, " I have been your corre- 
 spondent some time, though I never saw you before ; I have writ 
 by the name of Maria. You have told me you are too far gone in 
 life to think of love. Therefore I am answered as to the passion 
 I spoke of; and," continued she, smiling, " I will not stay until 
 you grow young again, as you men never fail to do in your dotage; 
 but am come to consult you as to disposing of myself to another. 
 My person you see, my fortune is very considerable ; but I am at 
 present under much perplexity how to act in a great conjuncture. I 
 have two lovers, Crassus and Lorio. Crassus is prodigiously rich, 
 but has no one distinguishing quality. Lorio has travelled, is well 
 bred, pleasant in discourse, discreet in his conduct, agreeable in 
 his person ; and with all this, he has a competency of fortune 
 without superfluity. When I consider Lorio, my mind is filled 
 with an idea of the great satisfactions of a pleasant conversation. 
 When I think of Crassus, my equipage, numerous servants, gay 
 liveries, and various dresses, are opposed to the charms of his 
 rival. In a word, when I cast my eyes upon Lorio, I forget and 
 despise fortune ; when I behold Crassus, I think only of pleasing 
 my vanity, and enjoying an uncontrolled expense in all the plea- 
 sures of life, except love." ' 
 
 The 'Tatler' naturally advised the lady that the man of her 
 affections, rather than the lover who could gratify her vanity with 
 outward show, would afford her the truest happiness, and coun- 
 selled her to keep her thoughts of happiness within the means 
 of her fortune, and not to measure it by comparison with the mere 
 riches of others. 
 
 No. 93. The 'Tatler.' — Nov. 12, 1709. 
 
 The 'Tatler,' from his eagerness to promote social reforms, has 
 succeeded in drawing upon himself numerous challenges from the 
 individuals who have considered themselves aggrieved by his. 
 writings. 
 
 'From my own Apartment, November 11. 
 
 ' I have several hints and advertisements from unknown hands, 
 that some who are enemies to my labours design to demand the 
 fashionable way of satisfaction for the disturbance my lucubrations 
 
252 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 have given them. I confess that as things now stand I do not 
 know how to deny such inviters, and am preparing myself ac- 
 cordingly. I have bought pumps, and foils, and am every morn- 
 ing practising in my chamber. My neighbour, the dancing-master, 
 has demanded of me, " why I take this liberty since I will not 
 allow it to him? " but I answered, "his was an act of indifferent 
 nature, and mine of necessity." My late treatises against duels 
 have so far disobliged the fraternity of the noble science of defence, 
 that I can get none of them to show me so much as one pass. I 
 am, therefore, obliged to learn by book, and have accordingly 
 several volumes, wherein all the postures are exactly delineated. 
 I must confess I am shy of letting people see me at this exercise, 
 because of my flannel waistcoat, and my spectacles, which I 
 ■am forced to fix on the better to observe the posture of the 
 enemy. 
 
 ' I have upon my chamber walls drawn at full length the 
 figures of all sorts of men, from eight feet to three feet two inches. 
 
 Within this height, I take it, that all the fighting men of Great 
 Britain are comprehended. But as I push, I make allowance for 
 my being of a lank and spare body, and have chalked out in every 
 figure my own dimensions ; for I scorn to rob any man of his life 
 by taking advantage of his breadth ; therefore, I press purely in a 
 line down from his nose, and take no more of him to assault than 
 he has of me ; for, to speak impartially, if a lean fellow wounds 
 a fat one in any part to the right or left, whether it be in carte or in 
 tierce, beyond the dimensions of the said lean fellow's own breadth, 
 I take it to be murder, and such a murder as is below a gentle- 
 man to commit. As I am spare, I am also very tall, and behave 
 myself with relation to that advantage with the same punctilio, 
 and I am ready to stoop or stand, according to the stature of my 
 adversary. 
 
the i tatler: 25$ 
 
 'I mast confess that I have had great success this morning,, 
 and have hit every figure round the room in a mortal part, without 
 receiving the least hurt, except a little scratch by falling on my 
 face, in pushing at one at the lower end of my chamber ; but I 
 recovered so quick, and jumped so nimbly on my guard, that, if he 
 had been alive, he could not have hurt me. It is confessed I 
 have written against duels with some warmth ; but in all my dis- 
 courses I have not ever said that I knew how a gentleman could 
 avoid a duel if he were provoked to it ; and since that custom is; 
 now become a law, I know nothing but the legislative power, with 
 new animadversions upon it, can put us in a capacity of denying 
 challenges, though we were afterwards hanged for it. But no more 
 of this at present. As things stand, I shall put up with no more 
 affronts ; and I shall be so far from taking ill words that I will not 
 take ill looks. I therefore warn all hot young fellows not to look 
 hereafter more terrible than their neighbours ; for if they stare at 
 me with their hats cocked higher than other people, I will not bear 
 it. Nay, I give warning to all people in general to look kindly at 
 me ; for I will bear no frowns, even from ladies ; and if any 
 woman pretends to look scornfully at me, T shall demand satisfac- 
 tion of the next of kin of the masculine gender.' 
 
 No. 96. The 'Tatler.' — Nov. 19, 1709. 
 
 The ' Tatler,' in despair of effecting his object by discouraging- 
 certain acts of foppery, endeavours to carry out his principle by an 
 opposite course of treatment. 
 
 'From my own Apartment, November 18. 
 1 When an engineer finds his guns have not had their intended 
 effect, he changes his batteries. I am forced at present to take 
 this method ; and instead of continuing to write against the singu- 
 larity some are guilty of in their habit and behaviour, I shall 
 henceforth desire them to persevere in it ; and not only so, but 
 shall take it as a favour of all the coxcombs in the town, if they 
 will set marks upon themselves, and by some particular in their 
 dress show to what class they belong. It would be very obliging 
 in all such persons, who feel in themselves that they are not of 
 sound understanding, to give the world notice of it, and spare 
 
254- 
 
 THACKERAYAXA. 
 
 mankind the pains of finding them out. A cane upon the fifth 
 button shall from henceforth be the sign of a dapper ; red-heeled 
 shoes and a hat hung upon one side of the head shall signify a 
 smart ; a good periwig made into a twist, with a brisk cock, shall 
 speak a mettled fellow; and an upper lip covered 
 with snuff, a coffee-house statesman. But as it is 
 required that all coxcombs hang out their signs, it is, 
 on the other hand, expected that men of real merit 
 should avoid anything particular in their dress, gait, 
 or behaviour. For, as we old men delight in pro- 
 verbs, I cannot forbear bringing out one on this occa- 
 sion, that "good wine needs no bush." 
 
 ' I must not leave this subject without reflecting 
 on several persons I have lately met, who at a dis- 
 tance seem very terrible ; but upon a stricter enquiry into their 
 looks and features, appear as meek and harmless as any of my 
 neighbours. These are country gentlemen, who of late years have 
 taken up a humour of coming to town in red coats, whom an 
 arch wag of my acquaintance used to describe very well by calling 
 them " sheep in wolves' clothing.'' I have often wondered that 
 honest gentlemen, who are good neighbours, and live quietly in 
 their own possessions, should take it into their heads to frighten 
 the town after this unreasonable manner. I shall think myself 
 obliged, if they persist in so unnatural a dress, notwithstanding 
 any posts they may have in the militia, to give away their red 
 coats to any of the soldiery who shall think fit to strip them, pro- 
 vided the said soldiers can make it appear that they belong to a 
 
 regiment where there is a deficiency in the clothing. About two 
 days ago I was walking in the park, and accidentally met a rural 
 esquire, clothed in all the types above mentioned, with a carriage 
 
the < tatler: 255 
 
 and behaviour made entirely out of his own head. He was of a 
 bulk and stature larger than ordinary, had a red coat, flung open 
 to show a gay calamancho waistcoat. His periwig fell in a very 
 considerable bush upon each shoulder. His arms naturally swung 
 at an unreasonable distance from his sides; which, with the 
 advantage of a cane that he brandished in a great variety of 
 irregular motions, made it unsafe for any one to walk within 
 several yards of him. In this manner he took up the whole Mall, 
 his spectators moving on each side of it, whilst he cocked up his 
 hat, and marched directly for Westminster. I cannot tell who 
 this gentleman is, but for my comfort may say, with the lover in 
 Terence, who lost sight of a fine young lady, " Wherever thou art, 
 thou canst not be long concealed. ' 
 
 No. 103. The ' Tatler.' — Dec. 6, 1709. 
 
 These toys will once to serious mischiefs fall, 
 When he is laughed at, when he's jeer'd by all. 
 
 Creech (ab Hor., Ars Poet. v. 452). 
 The ' Tatler,' pursuing his vocation as a censor of manners, is 
 presumed to have established a court, before which all bearers of 
 canes, snuff-boxes, perfumed handkerchiefs, perspective glasses, 
 &c, are brought, that they may, upon showing proper cause, have 
 licences granted for carrying the same ; but upon conviction that 
 these appendages of fashion are adopted merely out of frivolous 
 show, the articles thus exposed are ordered to become forfeited. 
 
 ' Having despatched this set of my petitioners, the bearers of 
 canes, there came in a well-dressed man, with a glass tube in one 
 hand, and his petition in the other. Upon his entering the room, 
 he threw back the right side of his wig, put forward his left leg, 
 and advancing the glass to his right eye, aimed it directly at me. 
 In the meanwhile, to make my observations also, I put on my 
 
256 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 spectacles ; in which posture we surveyed each other for some 
 time. Upon the removal of our glasses, I desired him to read his 
 petition, which he did very promptly and easily ; though at the 
 same time it sets forth " that he could see nothing distinctly, and 
 was within very few degrees of being utterly blind," concluding 
 with a prayer, " that he might be permitted to strengthen his sight 
 by a glass." In answer to this, I told him " he might sometimes 
 extend it to his own destruction. As you are now," said I, " you 
 are out of the reach of beauty ; the shafts of the finest eyes lose 
 their force before they can come at you ; you cannot distinguish a 
 Toast from an orange-wench ; you can see a whole circle of beauty 
 without any interruption from an impertinent face to discompose 
 you. In short, what are snares for others " — my petitioner would 
 hear no more, but told me very seriously, " Mr. Bickerstaff, you 
 quite mistake your man; it is the joy, the pleasure, the employ- 
 ment of my life to frequent public assemblies and gaze upon the 
 fair." In a word, I found his use of a glass was occasioned by no 
 other infirmity but his vanity, and was not so much designed to- 
 make him see as to make him be seen and distinguished by 
 others. I therefore refused him a licence for a perspective, but 
 allowed him a pair of spectacles, with full permission to use them 
 in any public assembly as he should think fit. He was followed 
 by so very few of this order of men, that I have reason to hope 
 that this sort of cheat is almost at an end. 
 
 'Little follies in dress and behaviour lead to greater evils. 
 The bearing to be laughed at for such singularity teaches us 
 insensibly an impertinent fortitude, and enables us to bear public 
 censure for things that most substantially deserve it. By this 
 means they open a gate to folly, and often render a man so ridi- 
 culous as to discredit his virtues and capacities, and unqualify him 
 from doing any good in the world. Besides, the giving in to un- 
 common habits of this nature, it is a want of that humble deference 
 which is due to mankind, and, what is worst of all, the certain 
 indication of some secret flaw in the mind of the person that 
 commits them. 
 
 'When I was a young man, I remember a gentleman of great 
 integrity and worth was very remarkable for wearing a broad belt 
 and a hanger instead of a fashionable sword, though in other 
 points a very well-bred man. I suspected him at first sight to 
 
THE 'TATLER: 
 
 257 
 
 have something wrong in him, but was not able for a long time to 
 discover any collateral proofs of it. I watched him narrowly for 
 six-and-thirty years, when at last, to the surprise of everybody but 
 
 myself, who had long expected to see the folly break out, 
 married his own cook-maid.' 
 
 he 
 
 No. 108. The ' Tatler.— Dec. 17, 1709. 
 
 Thus while the mute creation downward bend 
 Their sight, and to their earthly mother tend, 
 Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes 
 Beholds his own hereditary skies. — Dryden. 
 
 The ' Tatler/ for a little rational recreation, has visited the 
 theatre, hoping to enlarge his ideas; but even in 1709 we find 
 a passion for mere acrobatic exhibitions engaging and corrupting 
 the popular taste. 
 
 ' While I was in suspense, expecting every moment to see my 
 old friend Mr. Betterton appear in all the majesty of distress, to 
 my unspeakable amazement there came up a monster with a face 
 between his feet, and as I was looking on he raised himself on one 
 leg in such a perpendicular posture that the other grew in a direct 
 line above his head. It afterwards twisted itself into the motions 
 
2 5 8 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 and writhings of several different animals, and, after a great variety 
 of shapes and transformations, went off the stage in the figure of a 
 human creature. The admiration, the 
 applause, the satisfaction of the audience, 
 during this strange entertainment, is not 
 to be expressed. I was very much out of 
 countenance for my dear countrymen, and 
 looked about with some apprehension, for 
 fear any foreigner should be present. Is it 
 possible, thought I, that human nature 
 can rejoice in its disgrace, and take plea- 
 sure in seeing its own figure turned to 
 ridicule and distorted into forms that raise 
 f horror and aversion ! ' 
 
 No. 109. The 'Tatler.' — Dec. 20, 1709. 
 
 In this giddy, busy maze, 
 I lose the sunshine of my days. - Francis. 
 
 A fine lady has condescended to consult the 'Tatler' on a 
 trifling matter ; the solemnity of her state— an admirable picture 
 of the equipage of a fine lady of that period— electrifies the phi- 
 losopher and amazes his simple neighbours. 
 
 'Sheer Lane, December 19. 
 
 1 There has not some years been such a tumult in our neigh- 
 bourhood as this evening, about six. At the lower end of the 
 lane, the word was given that there was a great funeral coming by. 
 The next moment came forward, in a very hasty instead of a 
 solemn manner, a long train of lights, when at last a footman, in 
 very high youth and health, with all his force, ran through the 
 whole art of beating the door of the house next to me, and ended 
 his rattle with the true finishing rap. This did not only bring one 
 to the door at which he knocked, but to that of everyone in the 
 lane in an instant. Among the rest, my country-maid took the 
 alarm, and immediately running to me, told me " there was a fine, 
 fine lady, who had three men with burial torches making way 
 before her, carried by two men upon poles, with looking-glasses 
 each side of her, and one glass also before, she herself appearing 
 
THE 'tatler: 
 
 259 
 
 the prettiest that ever was." The girl was going on in her story, 
 when the lady was come to my door in her chair, having mistaken 
 the house. As soon as she entered I saw she was Mr. Isaac's 
 scholar, by her speaking air, and the becoming stop she made 
 when she began her apology. " You will be surprised, sir," said 
 
 she, " that I take this liberty, who am utterly a stranger to you ; 
 besides that, it may be thought an indecorum that I visit a man." 
 She made here a pretty hesitation, and held her fan to her face. 
 Then, as if recovering her resolution, she proceeded, " But I think 
 you have said, that men of your age are of no sex ; therefore, I 
 may be as free with you as with one of my own." ' 
 
 The fine lady consults Mr. Bickerstaff on a trivial subject; she 
 then describes to him the honour he should esteem her visit ; the 
 number of calls she is compelled to make, out of custom or cere- 
 mony, taking her miles round ; several acquaintances on her visit- 
 ing list having been punctually called on every week, and yet 
 never seen for more than a year. Then follows an account of a 
 visiting list for 1708 : — 
 
 1704 
 
 Mrs. Courtwood — Debtor. 
 
 Per contra — Creditor. 
 
 To seventeen hundred and 
 
 By eleven hundred and 
 
 four visits received . . I7°4 
 
 nine paid .... 1109 
 
 
 Due to balance . . . 595 
 
 S2 
 
2 6o THA CKERA VAN A. 
 
 No. in. The 'Tatter.' — Dec. 24, 1709. 
 
 Oh ! mortal man, thou that art bom in sin ! 
 
 The Bell man's Midnight Homily. 
 
 Mr. Bickerstaff is meditating on mental infirmities; after ex- 
 amining the faults of others, he is disposed to philosophise on his 
 own bad propensities, and his cautiousness to keep them within 
 reasonable subjection. 
 
 ' I have somewhere either read or heard a very memorable 
 sentence, "that a man would be a most insupportable monster, 
 should he have the faults that are incident to his years, con- 
 stitution, profession, family, religion, age, and country ; " and yet 
 every man is in danger of them all. For this reason, as I am an 
 old man, I take particular care to avoid being covetous, and tell- 
 ing long stories. As I am choleric, I forbear not only swearing, 
 but all interjections of fretting, as pugh ! or pish ! and the like. 
 As I am a lay-man, I resolve not to conceive an aversion for a 
 
 wise and good man, because his 
 coat is of a different colour from 
 mine. As I am descended of 
 the ancient family of the Bick- 
 erstaffs, I never call a man of 
 merit an upstart. As a Pro- 
 testant, I do not sutler my zeal 
 so far to transport me as to 
 name the Pope and the Devil 
 together. As I am fallen into 
 this degenerate age, I guard my- 
 self particularly against the folly 
 I have now been speaking of. As I am an Englishman, I am 
 
 very cautious not to hate a stranger, or despise a poor palatine.' 
 
 No. 116. The 'Tatler.' — Jan. 5, 1710. 
 
 The ' Tatler,' still maintaining his court for the examination of 
 frivolities in costume, is engaged in giving judgment on female 
 fashions. The hooped petticoat is the subject before his wor- 
 shipful board. A fair offender has been captured, and stripped of 
 
the <tatler: 
 
 261 
 
 her encumbrances until she is reduced to dimensions which will 
 allow her to enter the house ; the petticoat is then hung up to 
 the roof — its ample dimensions covering the entire court like a 
 canopy. The late wearer had the sense to confess that she ' should 
 be glad to see an example made of it, that she wore it for no 
 other reason but that she had a mind to look as big and burly az 
 other persons of her quality, and that she kept out of it as long as 
 she could and until she began to appear little in the eyes of her 
 acquaintance.' After hearing arguments concerning the encourage- 
 ment the wearing of these monstrous appendages offered to the 
 woollen manufacturers, to the rope and cord makers, and to the 
 whalebone fisheries of Greenland, the ' Tatler ' pronounced his 
 decision that the expense thus entailed on fathers and husbands, 
 and the prejudice to the ladies themselves, ' who could never 
 expect to have any money in the pocket if they laid out so much 
 on the petticoat,' together with the fact that since the introduction 
 of these garments several persons of quality were in the habit of 
 cutting up their cast gowns to strengthen their stiffening, instead 
 of bestowing them as perquisites or in charity, determined him to 
 seize the petticoat as a forfeiture, to be sent as a present to a 
 widow gentlewoman, who had five daughters, to be made into 
 petticoats for each, the remainder to be returned to be cut up into 
 stomachers and caps, facings for waistcoat sleeves, and other gar- 
 niture. He thus concludes : ' I consider woman as a beautiful, 
 romantic animal, that may be adorned with furs and feathers, 
 pearls and diamonds, ores and 
 silks. The lynx shall cast its 
 skin at her feet to make her a 
 tippet ; the peacock, parrot, and 
 swan shall pay contributions to 
 her muff; the sea shall be 
 searched for shells, and the 
 rocks for gems ; and every part 
 of nature furnish out its share 
 towards the embellishment of a 
 creature that is the most consummate work of it. All this I shall 
 indulge them in ; but as for the petticoat I have been speaking of 
 I neither can nor will allow it.' 
 
262 
 
 T HACK ERA YANA. 
 
 No. 145. The 'Tatler.' — March 14, 17 10. 
 
 Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos. — Virg. Eel. III. T03. 
 Ah ! what ill eyes bewitch my tender lambs ? 
 
 ' This paper was allotted for taking into consideration a late 
 request of two indulgent parents, touching the care of a young 
 daughter, whom they design to send to a boarding-school, or keep 
 at home, according to my determination ; but I am diverted from 
 that subject by letters which I have received from several ladies, 
 complaining of a certain sect of professed enemies to the repose 
 of the fair sex, called oglers. These are, it seems, gentlemen who 
 look with deep attention on one object at the playhouses, and are 
 ever staring all round them in churches. It is urged by my cor- 
 respondents, that they do all 
 that is possible to keep their 
 eyes off these ensnarers ; but 
 that, by what power they 
 know not, both their diver- 
 sions and devotions are in- 
 terrupted by them in such a 
 manner as that they cannot 
 attend to either, without steal- 
 ing looks at the persons whose eyes are fixed upon them. By this 
 means, my petitioners say, they find themselves grow insensibly 
 less offended, and in time enamoured of these their enemies. 
 What is required of me on this occasion is, that as I love and 
 study to preserve the better part of mankind, the females, I would 
 give them some account of this dangerous way of assault ; against 
 which there is so little defence, that it lays ambush for the sight 
 itself, and makes them seeingly, knowingly, willingly, and forcibly 
 go on to their own captivity. The naturalists tell us that the 
 rattlesnake will fix himself under a tree where he sees a squirrel 
 playing ; and when he has once got the exchange of a glance 
 from the pretty wanton, will give it such a sudden stroke on its 
 imagination, that though it may play from bough to bough, and 
 strive to avert its eyes from it for some time, yet it comes nearer 
 and nearer, by little intervals looking another way, until it drops 
 into the jaws of the animal, which it knew gazed at it for no other 
 
THE <tatler: 263 
 
 reason but to ruin it. I did not believe this piece of philosophy 
 until the night when I made my observations of the play of eyes at 
 the opera, where I then saw the same thing pass between an ogler 
 and a coquette.' 
 
 No. 146. The ' Tatler.' — March 16, 17 10. 
 
 Intrust thy fortune to the Powers above ; 
 Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant 
 What their unerring wisdom sees thee want : 
 In wisdom as in greatness they excel ; 
 Ah ! that we lov'd ourselves but half so well ! 
 We, blindly by our headstrong passions led, 
 Are hot for action, and desire to wed ; 
 Then wish for heirs, but to the gods alone 
 Our future offspring and our wives are known. 
 
 Juv. Sat. , Dry den. 
 
 1 As I was sitting after dinner 
 in my elbow-chair, I took up 
 Homer, and dipped into that 
 famous speech of Achilles to 
 Priam,* in which he tells him 
 that Jupiter has by him two great 
 vessels, the one filled with bless- 
 ings, and the other with misfor- 
 tunes ; out of which he mingles 
 a composition for every man that 
 comes into the world. This pas- 
 sage so exceedingly pleased me, that, as I fell insensibly into my 
 afternoon's slumber, it wrought my imagination into the following 
 dream : — 
 
 Two urns by Jove's high throne have ever stood, 
 The source of evil one, and one of good ; 
 From thence the cup of mortal man he fills, 
 Blessings to those, to those distributes ills ; 
 To most he mingles both : the wretch decreed 
 To taste the bad, unmixed, is curst indeed ; 
 Pursu'd by wrongs, by meagre famine driven, 
 He wanders, outcast both of earth and heaven. 
 
 Pope's Horn. II. XIV. ver. 863. 
 
264 THA CKERA YA NA. 
 
 'When Jupiter took into his hands the government of the 
 world, the several parts of nature with the presiding deities did 
 homage to him. One presented him with a mountain of winds, 
 another with a magazine of hail, and a third with a pile of thun- 
 derbolts. The Stars offered up their influences ; Ocean gave his 
 trident, Earth her fruits, and the Sun his seasons. 
 
 ' Among others the Destinies advanced with two great urns, 
 one of which was fixed on the right hand of Jove's throne, and the 
 other on the left. The first was filled with all the blessings, the 
 second with all the calamities, of human life. Jupiter, in the 
 beginning of his reign, poured forth plentifully from the right 
 hand; but as mankind, degenerating, became unworthy of his 
 blessings, he broached the other vessel, which filled the earth 
 with pain and poverty, battles and distempers, jealousy and false- 
 hood, intoxicating pleasures and untimely deaths. He finally, in 
 despair at the depravity of human nature, resolved to recall his 
 gifts and lay them in store until the world should be inhabited by 
 a more deserving race. 
 
 1 The three sisters of Destiny immediately repaired to the 
 earth in search of the several blessings which had been scattered 
 over it, but found great difficulties in their task. The first places 
 they resorted to, as the most likely of success, were cities, palaces, 
 and courts ; but instead of meeting with what they looked for 
 here, they found nothing but envy, repining, uneasiness, and the 
 like bitter ingredients of the left-hand vessel; whereas, to their 
 great surprise, they discovered content, cheerfulness, health, inno- 
 cence, and other the most substantial blessings of life, in cottages, 
 shades, and solitudes. In other places the blessings had been 
 converted into calamities, and misfortunes had become real 
 benefits, while in many cases the two had entered into alliance. In 
 their perplexity the Destinies were compelled to throw all the bless- 
 ings and calamities into one vessel, and leave them to Jupiter to 
 use his own discretion in their future distribution.' 
 
 No. 148. The 'Tattler.' — March 21, 1710. 
 
 They ransack ev'ry element for choice 
 Of ev'ry fish and fowl, at any price. 
 
 'I may, perhaps, be thought extravagant in my notion; but I 
 confess I am apt to impute the dishonours that sometimes happen 
 
THE 'tatler: 
 
 265 
 
 in great families to the inflaming diet which is so much in fashion. 
 For this reason we see the florid complexion, the strong limb, and 
 the hale constitution are to be found among the meaner sort of 
 people, or in the wild gentry who have been educated among the 
 woods or mountains ; whereas many great families are insensibly 
 fallen off from the athletic constitution of their progenitors, and are 
 dwindled away into a pale, sickly, spindle-legged generation of 
 valetudinarians. 
 
 ' I look upon a French ragout to be as pernicious to the 
 stomach as a glass of spirits ; and when I see a young lady 
 swallow all the instigations of high soups, seasoned sauces, and 
 forced meats, I have wondered at the despair or tedious sighing 
 of her lovers. 
 
 ' The rules among these false delicates are, to be as contra- 
 dictory as they can be to nature. They admit of nothing at their 
 
 tables in its natural form, or without some disguise. They are to 
 eat everything before it comes in season, and to leave it off as 
 soon as it is good to be eaten. 
 
 ' I remember I was last summer invited to a friend's house, 
 who is a great admirer of the French cookery, and. as the phrase 
 is, " eats well." At our sitting down, I found the table covered 
 with a great variety of unknown dishes. I was mightily at a loss 
 to learn what they were, and therefore did not know where to help 
 myself. That which stood before me I took to be roasted porcu- 
 pine — however, I did not care for asking questions — and have since 
 been informed that it was only a larded turkey. I afterwards 
 passed my eye over several hashes, which I do not know the 
 
266 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 names of to this day; and, hearing that they were delicacies, did 
 not think fit to meddle with them. Among other dainties, I saw 
 something like a pheasant, and therefore desired to be helped to a 
 wing of it ; but to my great surprise, my friend told me it was a 
 rabbit, which is a sort of meat I never cared for. Even the 
 dessert was so pleasingly devised and ingeniously arranged that I 
 cared not to displace it. 
 
 ' As soon as this show was over, I took my leave, that I might 
 finish my dinner at my own house ; for as I in everything love 
 what is simple and natural, so particularly my food. Two plain 
 dishes, with two or three good-natured, cheerful, ingenuous 
 friends, would make me more pleased and vain than all that 
 pomp and luxury can bestow; for it is my maxim that " he keeps 
 the greatest table who has the most valuable company at it." J 
 
 No. 155. The ' Tattler.'— April 17, 1710. 
 
 When he had lost all business of his own, 
 He ran in quest of news through all the town. 
 
 1 There lived some years since, within my neighbourhood, a 
 very grave person, an upholsterer,* who seemed a man of more 
 than ordinary application to business. He was a very early riser, 
 and was often abroad two or three hours before any of his neigh- 
 bours. He had a particular carefulness in the knitting of his 
 brows, and a kind of impatience in all his motions, that plainly 
 discovered he was always intent upon matters of importance. 
 Upon my inquiry into his life and conversation, I found him to be 
 the greatest newsmonger in our quarter ; that he rose before day 
 to read the "Postman;" and that he would take two or three 
 turns to the other end of the town before his neighbours were up, 
 to see if there were any Dutch mails come in. He had a wife and 
 several children; but was much more inquisitive to know what 
 passed in Poland than in his own family, and was in greater pain 
 and anxiety of mind for King Augustus's welfare than that of his 
 nearest relations. He looked extremely thin in a dearth of news, 
 and never enjoyed himself in a westerly wind. This indefatigable 
 
 * Arne, of Covent Garden ; the father of Dr. Thomas Ame, the musician., 
 composer, and dramatic writer, who died in 1778. 
 
the i tatler: 
 
 267 
 
 kind of life was the ruin of his shop ; for, about the time that his. 
 favourite prince left the crown of Poland, he broke and disappeared. 
 1 This man and his affairs had been long out of my mind, until 
 about three days ago, as I was walking in St. James's Park, I 
 heard somebody at a distance hemming after me ; and who should 
 it be but my old neighbour the upholsterer ! I saw he was- 
 
 reduced to extreme poverty, by certain shabby superfluities in his 
 dress ; for notwithstanding that it was a very sultry day for the 
 time of the year, he wore a loose great-coat and a muff, with a 
 long campaign wig out of curl ; to which he had added the orna- 
 ment of a pair of black garters buckled under the knee. Upon 
 his coming up to me, I was going to inquire into his present 
 circumstances ; but I was prevented by his asking me, with a 
 whisper, "whether the last letters brought any accounts that one 
 might rely upon from Bender." I told him, " None that I heard 
 of ; " and asked him " whether he had yet married His eldest 
 daughter." He told me, " No ; but pray," says he, " tell me sin- 
 cerely, what are your thoughts of the King of Sweden ? " For, 
 though his wife and children were starving, I found his chief con- 
 cern at present was for this great monarch. I told him " that I 
 looked upon him as one of the first heroes of the age." " But 
 pray," says he, " do you think there is any truth in the story of his 
 wound ? " And finding me surprised at the question, " Nay," says 
 he, " I only propose it to you." I answered " that I thought 
 there was no reason to doubt of it." " But why in the heel," says 
 he, " more than in any other part of the body ? " " Because," 
 said I, " the bullet chanced to light there." 
 
 * We were now got to the upper end of the Mall, where were 
 three or four very odd fellows sitting together upon the bench- 
 
268 
 
 THA CKERA YA NA. 
 
 These I found were all of them politicians, who used to sun them- 
 selves in that place every day about dinner-time. Observing them 
 
 to be curiosities in their kind, and my friend's acquaintance, I sat 
 down among them. 
 
 ' The chief politician of the bench was a great asserter of para- 
 doxes. He told us, with a seeming concern, " that, by some 
 news he had lately read from Muscovy, it appeared to him that 
 there was a storm gathering in the Black Sea, which might in time 
 do hurt to the naval forces of this nation." To this he added, 
 " that, for his part, he could not wish to see the Turk driven out 
 of Europe, which, he believed, could not but be prejudicial to our 
 woollen manufacture." 
 
 ' He backed his assertions with so many broken hints and 
 such a show of depth and wisdom, that we gave ourselves up to 
 his opinions. The discourse at length fell upon a point which 
 seldom escapes a knot of true-born Englishmen ; whether, in case 
 of a religious war, the Protestants would not be too strong for the 
 Papists. This we unanimously determined on the Protestant side.* 
 
 ' When we had fully discussed this point, my friend the uphol- 
 sterer began to exert himself upon the present negotiations of 
 
 * One who sat on my right hand, and, as I found by his discourse, had 
 been in the West Indies, assured us ' that it would be a very easy matter for 
 the Protestants to beat the Pope at sea ; ' and added, ' that whenever such a 
 war does break out, it must turn to the good of the Leeward Isles.' Upon 
 this, one who, as I afterwards found, was the geographer of the company, told 
 us for our comfort ' that there were vast tracts of lands about the pole, inha- 
 bited by neither Protestants nor Papists, and of greater extent than all the 
 Roman Catholic dominions in Europe. ' 
 
. THE < TA TLER: 269 
 
 peace; in which he deposed princes, settled the bounds of king- 
 doms, and balanced the power of Europe, with great justice and 
 impartiality, 
 
 ' I at length took my leave of the company, and was going 
 away ; but had not gone thirty yards before the upholsterer 
 hemmed again after me. Upon his advancing towards me with a 
 whisper, I expected to hear some secret piece of news, which he 
 had not thought fit to communicate to the bench; but, instead of 
 that, he desired me in my ear to lend him half-a-crown. In com- 
 passion to so needy a statesman, and to dissipate the confusion I 
 found he was in, I told him, '• if he pleased, I would give him five 
 shillings, to receive five pounds of him when the great Turk was 
 driven out of Constantinople ; " which he very readily accepted, 
 but not before he had laid down to me the impossibility of such 
 an event as the affairs of F.urope now stand. 
 
 'This paper I design for the peculiar benefit of those worthy 
 citizens who live more in a coffee-house than in their shops, and 
 whose thoughts are so taken up with foreign affairs that they 
 forget their customers.' 
 
 No. 163. The ' Tatler.' — April 2$, 1710. 
 
 Suffenus has no more wit than a mere clown, when he attempts to write 
 verses; and yet he is never happier than when he is scribbling ; so much does 
 he admire himself and his compositions. And, indeed, this is the foible of 
 every one of us ; for there is no man living who is not a Suffenus in one thing 
 or other. — Catnl. de Suffeno, XX. 14. 
 
 ' I yesterday came hither about two hours before the company 
 generally make their appearance, with a design to read over all 
 the newspapers ; but, upon my sitting down, I was accosted by 
 Ned Softly, who saw me from a corner in the other end of the 
 room, where I found he had been writing something. " Mr. 
 Bickerstaff," says he, " I observe, by a late paper of yours, that 
 you and I are just of a humour ; for you must know, of all imper- 
 tinences, there is nothing which I so much hate as news. I never 
 read a gazette in my life ; and never trouble my head about our 
 armies, whether they win or lose, or in what part of the world they 
 lie encamped." Without giving me time to reply, he drew a 
 paper of verses out of his pocket, telling me " that he had some- 
 
270 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 thing that would entertain me more agreeably ; and that he would 
 desire my judgment upon every line, for that we had time enough 
 before us until the company came in." 
 
 * Finding myself unavoidably engaged in such a conversation, 
 I was resolved to turn my pain into a pleasure and to divert 
 myself as well as I could with so very odd a fellow. " You must 
 understand," says Ned, " that the sonnet I am going to read to 
 you was written upon a lady, who showed me some verses of her 
 own making, and is, perhaps, the best poet of our age. But you 
 shall hear it." 
 
 1 Upon which he began to read as follows : — 
 
 To MlRA, ON HER INCOMPARABLE POEMS. 
 
 When dress'd in laurel wreaths you shine, 
 And tune your soft melodious notes, 
 
 You seem a sister of the Nine, 
 Or Phoebus' self in petticoats. 
 
 I fancy when your song you sing 
 
 (Your song you sing with so much art) 
 
 Your pen was pluck'd from Cupid's wing ; 
 For, ah ! it wounds me like a dart. 
 
 * " Why," says I, " this is a little nosegay of conceits, a very 
 lump of salt. Every verse has something in it that piques ; and 
 then the dart in the last line is certainly as pretty a sting on the 
 tail of an epigram, for so I think you critics call it, as ever entered 
 into the thought of a poet." " Dear Mr. Bickerstaff," says he, 
 shaking me by the hand, " everybody knows you to be a judge of 
 
THE 'TATLER: 271 
 
 these things ; and, to tell you truly, I read over Roscommon's 
 4 Translation of Horace's Art of Poetry ■ three several times before 
 I sat down to write the sonnet which I have shown you. But 
 you shall hear it again, and pray observe every line of it ; for not 
 one of them shall pass without your approbation. My friend 
 Dick Easy," continued he, "assured me he would rather have 
 written that ' Ah ! ' than to have been the author of the ' ^Eneid.' 
 ' " He indeed objected that I made Mira's pen like a quill in one 
 of the lines and like a dart in the other." "But as to that— oh! 
 as to that," says I, " it is but supposing Cupid to be like a porcu- 
 pine, and his quills and darts will be the same thing." He was 
 going to embrace me for the hint ; but half-a-dozen critics coming 
 into the room, whose faces he did not like, he conveyed the 
 sonnet into his pocket, and whispered me in the ear, " he would 
 show it me again as soon as his man had written it over fair." ' 
 
 No. 178. The 'Tatler.' — May 30, 17 10. 
 
 1 When we look into the delightful history of the most inge- 
 nious Don Quixote of La Mancha, and consider the exercises and 
 manner of life of that renowned gentleman, we cannot 
 but admire the exquisite genius and discerning spirit 
 of Michael Cervantes ; who has not only painted his 
 adventurer with great mastery in the conspicuous 
 parts of his story, which relate to love and honour, 
 but also intimated in his ordinary life, in his economy 
 and furniture, the infallible symptoms he gave of his 
 growing phrenzy, before he declared himself a knight- 
 errant. His hall was furnished with old lances, hal- 
 berds, and morions ; his food, lentiles ; his dress, 
 amorous. He slept moderately, rose early, and spent 
 his time in hunting. When by watchfulness and exercise he was 
 thus qualified for the hardships of his intended peregrinations, he 
 had nothing more to do but to fall hard to study ; and, before he 
 should apply himself to the practical part, get into the methods of 
 making love and war by reading books of knighthood. As for 
 raising tender passions in him, Cervantes reports that he was won- 
 derfully delighted with a smooth intricate sentence ; and when 
 they listened at his study-door, they could frequently hear him 
 
272 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 read aloud, " The reason of the unreasonableness, which against 
 my reason is wrought, doth so weaken my reason, as with all 
 reason I do justly complain of your beauty." Again he would 
 pause until he came to another charming sentence, and, with the 
 most pleasing accent imaginable, be loud at a new paragraph : 
 " The high heavens, which, with your divinity, do fortify you 
 divinely with the stars, make you deserveress of the deserts that 
 your greatness deserves." With these and other such passages, 
 says my author, the poor gentleman grew distracted, and was 
 breaking his brains day and night to understand and unravel their 
 sense. 
 
 ' What I am now warning the people of is, that the newspapers 
 of this island are as pernicious to weak heads in England as ever 
 books of chivalry to Spain ; and therefore shall do all that in me 
 lies, with the utmost care and vigilance imaginable, to prevent 
 these growing evils.' 
 
 Mr. Bickerstaff goes on to describe the private Bedlam he has 
 provided for such as are seized with these rabid political maladies. 
 
 No. 186. The 'Tatter.' — June 17, 1710. 
 
 Virtue alone ennobles human kind, 
 
 And power should on her glorious footsteps wait. 
 
 ' There is nothing more necessary to establish reputation than 
 to suspend the enjoyment of it. He that cannot bear the sense of 
 merit with silence, must of necessity destroy it; for fame being 
 the general mistress of mankind, whoever gives it to himself insults 
 all to whom he relates any circumstances to his own advantage. 
 He is considered as an open ravisher of that beauty for whom all 
 others pine in silence. But some minds are so incapable of any 
 temperance in this particular, that on ei>ery second in their discourse 
 you may observe an earnestness in their eyes which shows they 
 wait for your approbation ; and perhaps the next instant cast an 
 eye in a glass to see how they like themselves. 
 
 * Walking the other day in a neighbouring inn of court, I saw 
 a more happy and more graceful orator than I ever before had 
 heard or read of. A youth of about nineteen years of age was in 
 an Indian dressing-gown and laced cap, pleading a cause before 
 a glass. The young fellow had a very good air, and seemed to 
 
THE 'TATLER.' 
 
 273 
 
 hold his brief in his hand rather to help his action, than that he 
 wanted notes for his further information. When I first began to 
 observe him, I feared he would soon 
 be alarmed ; but he was so zealous 
 for his client, and so favourably re- 
 ceived by the court, that he went on 
 with great fluency to inform the 
 bench that he humbly hoped they 
 would not let the merit of the cause 
 suffer by the youth and inexperience 
 of the pleader ; that in all things he 
 
 submitted to their candour; and modestly desired they would not 
 conclude but that strength of argument and force of reason may 
 be consistent with grace of action and comeliness of person. 
 
 ' To me (who see people every day in the midst of crowds, 
 whomsoever they seem to address, talk only to themselves and of 
 themselves) this orator was not so extravagant a man as perhaps 
 another would have thought him ; but I took part in his success, 
 and was very glad to find he had in his favour judgment and costs, 
 without any manner of opposition.' 
 
 No. 204. The 'Tatler.' — July 29, 1710. 
 
 He with rapture hears 
 
 A title tingling in his tender ears. 
 
 Francis's Horace, Sat. V. 32. 
 
 'Were distinctions used ac- 
 cording to the rules of reason 
 and sense, those additions 
 to men's names would be, 
 as they were first intended, 
 significant of their worth, and 
 not their persons ; so that in 
 some cases it might be proper to say of a deceased ambassador, 
 " The man is dead ; but his excellency will never die." It is, 
 methinks, very unjust to laugh at a Quaker, because he has taken 
 up a resolution to treat you with a word the most expressive of 
 complaisance that can be thought of, and with an air of good- 
 nature and charity calls you Friend. I say, it is very unjust to 
 
 T 
 
274 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 rally him for this term to a stranger, when you yourself, in all your 
 phrases of distinction, confound phrases of honour into no use at all. 
 ' Tom Courtly, who is the pink of courtesy, is an instance of 
 how little moment an undistinguishing application of sounds of 
 honour are to those who understand themselves. Tom never fails 
 of paying his obeisance to every man he sees who has title or 
 office to make him conspicuous ; but his deference is wholly given 
 to outward considerations. I, who know him, can tell him within 
 half an acre how much land one man has more than another by 
 Tom's bow to him. Title is all he knows of honour, and civility 
 of friendship ; for this reason, because he cares for no man living, 
 he is religiously strict in performing, what he calls, his respects to 
 you. To this end he is very learned in pedigree, and will abate 
 something in the ceremony of his approaches to a man, if he is in 
 any doubt about the bearing of his coat of arms. What is the 
 most pleasant of all his character is, that he acts with a sort of 
 integrity in these impertinences ; and though he would not do any 
 solid kindness, he is wonderfully just and careful not to wrong his 
 quality. But as integrity is very scarce in the world, I cannot 
 forbear having respect for the impertinent : it is some virtue to be 
 bound by anything. Tom and I are upon very good terms, for 
 the respect he has for the house of Bickerstaff. Though one 
 cannot but laugh at his serious consideration of things so little 
 essential, one must have a value even for a frivolous good con- 
 science.' 
 
275 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 THACKERAY'S RESEARCHES AMONGST THE WRITINGS OF THE 
 
 early essayists — Continued. 
 
 Extracts of Characteristic Passages from the Works of 'The Humourists,' from 
 Thackeray's Library, illustrated with Original Marginal Sketches by the 
 Author's Hand — The Series of The 'Guardian,' 17 13— Introduction — 
 Steele's Programme — Authors who contributed to the ' Guardian ' — Para- 
 graphs and Pencillings. 
 
 Introduction to The ' Guardian.' 
 
 The seventh volume of the ' Spectator,' 
 originally intended to be the last, was 
 concluded Dec. 6, 17 12, and the first 
 paper of the ' Guardian ' made its ap- 
 pearance March 12, 17 13. This work 
 had been actually projected by Steele 
 before the conclusion of the ' Spec- 
 tator.' In a letter to Pope, dated 
 Nov. 12, 1712, he thus announces his 
 intention : ' I desire you would let me 
 know whether you are at leisure or 
 not. I have a design which I shall 
 open in a month or two hence, with 
 the assistance of a few like yourself. If your thoughts are un- 
 engaged, I shall explain myself further.' 
 
 It appears that Steele undertook this work without any previous 
 concert with his illustrious colleague, and that he pursued it for 
 many weeks with vigour and assiduity, and with very little assist- 
 ance from his friends or from the letter-box. 
 
 The views of our essayists in the choice of a name have been 
 either to select one that did not pledge them to any particular 
 plan, or one that expressed humility, or promised little, and might 
 
276 THA CKERA YANA . 
 
 afterwards excite an agreeable surprise by its unexpected fertility. 
 Of the former class are the ' Spectator/ ' World/ ' Mirror ;' of the 
 latter class are the ' Tatler/ ' Rambler/ ' Idler/ ' Adventurer/ &c. 
 The ' Connoisseur ' is a name of some danger, because of great 
 promise ; and the ' Guardian ' might perhaps have been liable to 
 the same objection, if 'Nestor Ironside' had not tempered the 
 austerity of the preceptor with the playfulness of the friend and 
 companion, and partaken of the amusements of his pupils while 
 he provided for their instruction. And with respect to his ' literary 
 speculations, as well as his merriment and burlesque/ we may 
 surely allow him some latitude, when we consider that the public 
 at large were put under his guardianship, and that the demand for 
 variety became consequently more extensive. The ' Guardian ' — 
 which was in effect a continuation of the 'Spectator' under 
 another name — was published daily until Oct. i, 17 13, No. 175^ 
 when it was abruptly closed by Steele, in consequence of a quarrel 
 between him and Tonson, the bookseller. Pope informs us that 
 Steele stood engaged to his publisher in articles of penalty for all 
 the ' Guardians ; ' and by desisting two days, and altering the title 
 of the paper, was quit of the obligation. Steele started the 
 1 Englishman/ which was printed for Buckley, with a view of 
 carrying his politics into a new paper in which they might be in 
 place. Steele behaved vindictively to Tonson, and ruthlessly 
 destroyed the original publisher's legitimate rights of proprietor- 
 ship in the joint enterprise by advertising the ' Englishman ' as the 
 sequel of the ' Guardian.' 
 
 In his first paper he likewise declared that he had ' for valuable 
 considerations purchased the lion* (frequently alluded to in the 
 papers), desk, pen, ink, and paper, and all other goods of Nestor 
 Ironside, Esq., who had thought fit to write no more himself.' 
 
 Whatever stormy circumstances, declares Dr. Chalmers, at- 
 tended the conclusion, it appears that Steele came prepared for 
 the commencement of the 'Guardian/ with more industry and 
 richer stores than usual. He wrote a great many papers in succes- 
 sion, with very little assistance from his contemporaries. Addison, 
 
 * The gilt lion's-head letter-box, used in the publication of the ' Guardian/ 
 and then placed in Button's coffee-house, was afterwards for many years at the 
 Shakespeare tavern, in Covent Garden. The master of this tavern becoming 
 insolvent, the lion's head was sold among his effects, Nov. 8, 1804, for ^17 10s, 
 
THE 'GUARDIAN: ill 
 
 for what reason is not very obvious, unless he was then looking to 
 higher employment, did not make his appearance until No. 67, 
 nor, with one exception, did he again contribute until No. 97, 
 when he proceeds without interruption for twenty -seven numbers, 
 during which time Steele's affairs are said to have been embar- 
 rassed. Steele's share amounts to seventy-one papers, written in 
 his happiest vein. Addison wrote fifty-one papers, and generally 
 with his accustomed excellence ; but it may perhaps be thought 
 that there is a greater proportion of serious matter, and more 
 frequent use made of the letter-box, than was usual with this 
 author. 
 
 The contributors to the ' Guardian ' were not numerous. The 
 first for quality and value was the celebrated Bishop of Cloyne. 
 Dr. George Berkeley, a man so uniformly amiable as to be ranked 
 among the first of human beings ; a writer sometimes so absurd 
 that it has been doubted whether it was possible he could be 
 serious in the principles he has laid down. His actions manifested 
 the warmest zeal for the interests of Christianity, while some of his 
 writings seemed intended to assist the cause of infidelity. The 
 respect of those who knew Dr. Berkeley, and his own excellent 
 character, have rescued his name from the imputations to which 
 his writings may have given occasion ; and to posterity he will be 
 deservedly handed down as an able champion of religion, although 
 infected with an incurable love of paradox, and somewhat tainted 
 with the pride of philosophy, which his better sense could not 
 restrain. 
 
 Dr. Berkeley's share in the ' Guardian ' has been ascertained, 
 partly on the authority of his son, who claimed Nos. 3, 27, 35, 39, 
 49? 55, 62, 70, 77, and 126, and partly on that of the annotators, 
 who added to these Nos. 83, 88, and 89. 
 
 It is asserted, on unquestionable authority, that Dr. Berkeley 
 had a guinea and a dinner with Steele for every paper he furnished. 
 This is the only circumstance that has come to light respecting 
 the payment received by the assistants in any of these works. In 
 the ' Spectator ' it is probable that Addison and Steele were joint 
 sharers or proprietors. In the case of the ' Guardian,' as already 
 noticed, there was a contract between Steele and Tonson, the 
 nature of which has not been clearly explained. 
 
 Pope's share of the ' Guardian ' can be traced with some degree 
 
?78 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 of certainty, and at least eight papers can be confidently assigned 
 to his pen, which entitle him to the very highest praise as an 
 essayist. These are Nos. 4, 11, 40, 61, 78, 91, 92, and 173. 
 
 No. 10. The 'Guardian.' — March 23, 1713. 
 
 Venit ad me scepe clamitans 
 
 Vestitu nimium indulges, nimium ineptus es, 
 Nimium ipse est durus prseter sequumque et bonum. 
 
 Ter. Adelph. 
 
 ' To the " Guardian:' 
 
 'Oxford, 1 712. 
 
 * Sir, — I foresee that you will have many correspondents in this 
 place ; but as I have often observed, with grief of heart, that 
 scholars are wretchedly ignorant in the science I profess, I flatter 
 myself that my letter will gain a place in your papers. I have 
 made it my study, sir, in these seats of learning, to look into the 
 nature of dress, and am what they call an academical beau. I have 
 often lamented that I am obliged to wear a grave habit, since by 
 that means I have not an opportunity to introduce fashions 
 amongst our young gentlemen ; and so am forced, contrary to my 
 own inclinations, and the expectation of all who know me, to 
 appear in print. I have indeed met with some 
 success in the projects I have communicated to 
 some sparks with whom I am intimate, and I 
 cannot, without a secret triumph, confess that 
 the sleeves turned up with green velvet, which 
 now flourish throughout the university, sprung 
 originally from my invention. 
 
 ' As it is necessary to have the head clear, as 
 well as the complexion, to be perfect in this part 
 of learning, I rarely mingle with the men (for I 
 abhor wine), but frequent the tea-tables of the 
 ladies. I know every part of their dress, and 
 can name all their things by their names. I 
 am consulted about every ornament they buy ; 
 and, I speak it without vanity, have a very pretty fancy to knots 
 and the like. Sometimes I take a needle and spot a piece of 
 
THE 'GUARDIAN: 279 
 
 muslin for pretty Patty Cross-stitch, who is my present favourite; 
 which, she says, I do neatly enough ; or read one of your papers 
 and explain the motto, which they all like mightily. But then I 
 am a sort of petty tyrant among them, for I own I have my 
 humours. If anything be amiss, they are sure Mr. Sleek will find 
 fault ; if any hoity-toighty things make a fuss, they are sure to be 
 taken to pieces the next visit. I am the dread of poor Celia, 
 whose wrapping gown is not right India ; and am avoided by 
 Thalestris in her second-hand manteau, which several masters of 
 arts think very fine, whereas I discovered with half an eye that 
 it had been scoured. 
 
 ' Though every man cannot fill his head with learning, it is in 
 anyone's power to wear a pretty periwig ; he who hath no knack 
 at writing sonnets, may however have a soft hand ; and he may 
 arch his eye-brows, who hath not strength of genius for the 
 mathematics. 
 
 'Simon Sleek.' 
 
 No. 22. The 'Guardian.' — Aprilb, 1713. 
 
 My next desire is, void of care and strife, 
 To lead a soft, secure, inglorious life ; 
 A country cottage near a crystal flood, 
 A winding valley, and a lofty wood. 
 
 ' Pastoral poetry not only amuses the fancy most delightfully, 
 but it is likewise more indebted to it than any other sort whatever. 
 
 It transports us into a kind of fairy-land, where our ears are 
 soothed with the melody of birds, bleating flocks and purling 
 
280 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 streams ; our eyes are enchanted with flowery meadows and 
 springing greens ; we are laid under cool shades, and entertained 
 with all the sweets and freshness of nature. It is a dream, it is a 
 vision, which may be real, and we believe that it is true. 
 
 1 Another characteristic of a shepherd is simplicity of manners, 
 or innocence. This is so obvious that it would be but repetition 
 to insist long upon it. I shall only remind the reader, that as the 
 pastoral life is supposed to be where nature is not much depraved, 
 sincerity and truth will generally run through it. Some slight 
 transgressions, for the sake of variety, may be admitted, which in 
 effect will only serve to set off the simplicity of it in general. I 
 cannot better illustrate this rule than by the following example of 
 a swain who found his mistress asleep : — 
 
 Once Delia slept, on easy moss reclined, 
 Her lovely limbs half bare, and rude the wind ; 
 I smooth'd her coats, and stole a silent kiss ; 
 Condemn me, shepherds, if I did amiss. 
 
 ' A third sign of a swain is, that something of religion, and even 
 superstition, is part of his character. For we find that those who 
 have lived easy lives in the country, and contemplate the works of 
 nature, live in the greatest awe of their author ; nor doth this 
 humour prevail less now than of old. Our peasants as sincerely 
 believe the tales of goblins and fairies as the heathens those of 
 fawns, nymphs, and satyrs. Hence we find the works of Virgil 
 and Theocritus sprinkled with left-handed ravens, blasted oaks, 
 witchcrafts, evil eyes, and the like. And I observe with great 
 pleasure, that our English author of the pastorals I have quoted 
 hath practised this secret with admirable judgment.' 
 
 No. 29. The 'Guardian.' — April 14, 17 13. 
 
 Ride si sapis Mart. Epig. 
 
 Laugh if you're wise. 
 
 ' In order to look into any person's temper I generally make 
 my first observation upon his laugh : whether he is easily moved, 
 and what are the passages which throw him into that agreeable 
 kind of convulsion. People are never so unguarded as when they 
 are pleased; and laughter being a visible symptom of some in- 
 ward satisfaction, it is then, if ever, we may believe the face. It 
 
the ^guardian: 281 
 
 may be remarked in general under this head, that the laugh of 
 men of wit is, for the most part, but a faint, constrained kind of 
 half laugh, as such persons are never without some diffidence 
 about them ; but that of fools is the most honest, natural, open 
 laugh in the world. 
 
 ' As the playhouse affords us the most occasions of observing 
 upon the behaviour of the face, it may be useful (for the direction 
 •of those who would be critics this way) to remark, that the virgin 
 ladies usually dispose themselves in front of the boxes ; the young 
 married women compose the second row ; while the rear is gene- 
 rally made up of mothers of long standing, undesigning maids, and 
 ■contented widows. Whoever will cast his eye upon them under 
 this view, during the representation of a play, will find me so far 
 in the right that a double entendre strikes the first row into an 
 affected gravity, or careless indolence ; the second will venture at 
 ■a smile ; but the third take the conceit entirely, and express their 
 mirth in a downright laugh. 
 
 ' When I descend to particulars, I find the reserved prude will 
 relapse into a smile at the extravagant freedoms of the coquette, 
 the coquette in her turn laughs at the starchness and awkward 
 affectation of the prude ; the man of letters is tickled with the 
 vanity and ignorance of the fop, and the fop confesses his ridicule 
 at the impoliteness of the pedant. 
 
 ' I fancy we may range the several kinds of laughers under 
 the following heads : — 
 
 The Dimplers, The Laughers, 
 
 The Smilers, The Grinners, 
 
 The Horse-laughers. 
 
 ' The Dimple is practised to give a grace to the features, and is 
 frequently made a bait to entangle a gazing lover. This was 
 called by the ancients the Chian laugh. 
 
 ' The Smile is for the most part confined to the fair sex, and 
 itheir male retinue. It expresses our satisfaction in a silent sort of 
 
282 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 approbation, doth not too much disorder the features, and is 
 practised by lovers of the most delicate address. This tender 
 motion of the physiognomy the ancients called the Ionic laugh. 
 
 ' The Laugh among us is the common rtsus of the ancients. 
 
 1 The Grin, by writers of antiquity, is called the Syncrusian, and 
 was then, as it is at this time, made use of to display a beautiful 
 set of teeth. 
 
 ' The Horse-laugh, or the Sardonic, is made use of with great 
 success in all kinds of disputation. The proficients in this kind, 
 by a well-timed laugh, will baffle the most solid argument. This 
 upon all occasions supplies the want of reason, is always received 
 with great applause in coffee-house disputes; and that side the 
 laugh joins with is generally observed to gain the better of his 
 antagonist. 
 
 ' The prude hath a wonderful esteem for the Chian laugh, or 
 Dimple ; she looks upon all the other kinds of laughter as excesses 
 of levity, and is never seen upon the most extravagant jests to dis- 
 order her countenance with the ruffle of a smile. Her lips are 
 composed with a primness peculiar to her character; all her 
 modesty seems collected into her face, and she but very rarely 
 takes the freedom to sink her cheek into a dimple. 
 
 ' The coquette is a proficient in laughter, and can run through 
 the whole exercise of the features. She subdues the formal lover 
 with the dimple, accosts the fop with the smile, joins with the wit 
 in the downright laugh; to vary the air of her countenance fre- 
 quently rallies with the grin ; and when she has ridiculed her lover 
 quite out of his understanding, to complete his misfortune, strikes 
 him dumb with the horse-laugh.' 
 
 No. 34. The 'Guardian.' — April 20, 17T3. 
 
 Mores multorum vidit. — Hor. 
 
 He many men and many manners saw. 
 
 1 1 happened to fall in with a circle of young ladies very lately,, 
 at their afternoon tea, when the conversation ran upon fine gen- 
 tlemen. From the several characters that were given, and the 
 exceptions that were made, as this or that gentleman happened to- 
 be named, I found that a lady is not difficult to be pleased, and 
 
THE 'GUARDIAN: 283, 
 
 that the town swarms with fine gentlemen. A nimble pair of 
 heels, a smooth complexion, a full-bottomed wig, a laced shirt, an 
 embroidered suit, a pair of fringed gloves, a hat and feather, alike,, 
 one and all, ennoble a man, and raise him above the vulgar in 
 female imagination. 
 
 1 1 could not forbear smiling at one of the prettiest and live- 
 liest of this gay assembly, who excepted to the gentility of Sir 
 William Hearty, because he wore a frieze coat, and breakfasted 
 upon toast and ale. I pretended to admire the fineness of her 
 taste, and to strike in with her in ridiculing those awkward healthy 
 gentlemen who seek to make nourishment the chief end of eating. 
 I gave her an account of an honest Yorkshire gentleman, who,, 
 when I was a traveller, used to invite his ac- 
 quaintances at Paris to break their fast with him 
 upon cold roast beef and mum. There was, 
 I remember, a little French marquis, who was 
 often pleased to rally him unmercifully upon 
 beef and pudding, of which our countryman 
 would despatch a pound or two with great alacrity, while his anta- 
 gonist was picking at a mushroom or the haunch of a frog. I could 
 perceive the lady was pleased with what I said, and we parted very 
 good friends, by virtue of a maxim I always observe, never to con- 
 tradict or reason with a sprightly female. I went home, however, 
 full of a great many serious reflections upon what had passed; and 
 though in complaisance I disguised my sentiments, to keep up the 
 good humour of my fair companions, and to avoid being looked 
 upon as a testy old fellow; yet, out of the good-will I bear the 
 sex, and to prevent for the future their being imposed upon by 
 counterfeits, I shall give them the distinguishing marks of a true 
 fine gentleman. 
 
 * ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 1 For the Benefit of my Female Readers. 
 
 ' N.B. — The gilt chariot, the diamond ring, the gold snuff-box,, 
 and brocade sword-knot are no essential parts of a fine gentleman ; 
 but may be used by him, provided he casts his eye upon them but 
 once a day.' 
 
^84 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 No. 44. The 'Guardian.' — May 1, 17 13. 
 
 This path conducts us to the Elysian fields. 
 
 ' I have frequently observed in the walks belonging to all the 
 inns of court, a set of old fellows who appear to be humourists, 
 and wrapped up in themselves. I am very glad to observe that 
 these sages of this peripatetic sect study tranquillity and indo- 
 lence of body and mind in the neighbourhood of so much con- 
 tention as is carried on among the students of Littleton. Now 
 these, who are the jest of such as take themselves, and the world 
 usually takes to be in prosperity, are the very persons whose hap- 
 piness, were it understood, would be looked upon with burning 
 envy. 
 
 ' I fell into the discovery of them in the following manner : 
 One day last summer, being particularly under the dominion of 
 the spleen, I resolved to soothe my melancholy in the company of 
 such, whose appearance promised a full return of any complaints I 
 
 could possibly utter. Living near Gray's Inn walks, I went 
 thither in search of the persons above described, and found some 
 of them seated upon a bench, where, as Milton sings — 
 The unpierced shade imbrown'd their noontide bow'r. 
 1 1 squeezed in among them ; and they did not only receive 
 my moanings with singular humanity, but gave me all possible 
 encouragement to enlarge them. If the blackness of my spleen 
 raised an imaginary distemper of body, some one of them immedi- 
 ately sympathised with me. If I spake of any disappointment in 
 my fortune, another of them would abate my sorrowing by recount- 
 ing to me his own defeat upon the very same circumstances. If I 
 touched upon overlooked merit, the whole assembly seemed to 
 •condole with me very feelingly upon that particular. In short, I 
 could not make myself so calamitous in mind, body, or circum- 
 
THE 'GUARDIAN: 
 
 285 
 
 stances, but some one of them was upon a level with me. When 
 I had wound up my discourse, and was ripe for their intended 
 raillery, at first they crowned my narration with several piteous 
 sighs and groans ; but after a short pause, and a signal given for 
 the onset, they burst out into a most incomprehensible fit of 
 laughter. You may be sure I was notably out of countenance, 
 which gave occasion to a second explosion of the same mirth. 
 What troubled me most was, that their figure, age, and short 
 sword preserved them from any imputation of cowardice upon 
 refusal of battle, and their number from insult. I had now no 
 other way to be upon good terms with them, but desiring I might 
 be admitted into this fraternity. This was at first vigorously 
 opposed, it being objected to me that I affected too much the 
 appearance of a happy man to be received into a society so proud 
 of appearing the most afflicted. However, as I only seemed to be 
 what they really were, I am admitted, by way of triumph, upon 
 probation for a year ; and if within that time it shall be possible 
 for them to infuse any of their gaiety into me, I can, at Monmouth 
 Street, upon mighty easy terms, purchase the robes necessary for 
 my instalment into this order ; and when they have made me as 
 happy, shall be willing to appear as miserable, as any of this 
 assembly.' 
 
 No. 60. The 'Guardian.' — May 20, 1713. 
 
 Nihil legebat quod non excerperet. — Plin. 
 
 He picked something out of everything he read. 
 
 'There is nothing in which men deceive 
 themselves more ridiculously than in point 
 of reading, and which, as it is constantly 
 practised under the notion of improve- 
 ment, has less advantage. 
 
 'When I was sent to Oxford, my 
 chiefest expense ran upon books, and my 
 only expense upon numbers ; so that you 
 may be sure I had what they call a choice 
 collection, sometimes buying by the pound, 
 sometimes by the dozen, at others by the hundred. 
 
.286 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ' As I always held it necessary to read in public places, by way 
 of ostentation, but could not possibly travel with a library in my 
 pockets, I took the following method to gratify this errantry of 
 mine. I contrived a little pocket-book, each leaf of which was a 
 •different author, so that my wandering was indulged and con- 
 cealed within the same enclosure. 
 
 ' This extravagant humour, which should seem to pronounce 
 me irrecoverable, had the contrary effect ; and my hand and eye 
 being thus confined to a single book, in a little time reconciled 
 me to the perusal of a single author. However, I chose such a 
 one as had as little connection as possible, turning to the Proverbs 
 of Solomon, where the best instructions are thrown together in the 
 most beautiful range imaginable, and where I found all that 
 variety which I had before sought in so many different authors, 
 and which was so necessary to beguile my attention. By these 
 proper degrees I have made so glorious a reformation in my 
 studies that I can keep company with Tully in his most extended 
 periods, and work through the continued narrations of the most 
 prolix historian. I now read nothing without making exact col- 
 lections, and shall shortly give the world an instance of this in the 
 publication of the following discourses. The first is a learned 
 controversy about the existence of griffins, in which I hope to con- 
 vince the world that notwithstanding such a mixed creature has 
 been allowed by ^Elian, Solinus, Mela, and Herodotus, that they 
 have been perfectly mistaken in the matter, and shall support my- 
 self by the authority of Albertus, Pliny, Aldrovandus, and Matthias 
 Michovius ; which two last have clearly argued that animal out of 
 the creation. 
 
 'The second is a treatise of sternutation or sneezing, with the 
 original custom of saluting or blessing upon that motion j as also 
 with a problem from Aristotle, showing why sneezing from noon 
 to night was innocent enough; from night to noon, extremely 
 unfortunate. 
 
 ' The third and most curious is my discourse upon the nature 
 of the lake Asphaltites, or the lake of Sodom • being a very careful 
 enquiry whether brickbats and iron will swim in that lake, and 
 feathers sink, as Pliny and Mandevil have averred. 
 
 ' The discussing these difficulties without perplexity or pre- 
 judice, the labour of collecting and collating matters of this 
 
THE 'GUARDIAN: 
 
 287 
 
 nature, will, I hope, in a great measure atone for the idle hours I 
 have trifled away in matters of less importance.' 
 
 No. 77. The 'Guardian.' — June 9, 1713. 
 
 Certum voto pete finem. — Hor. Ep. 
 To wishes fix an end. — Creech. 
 
 ' The same weakness, or defect in the mind, from whence 
 pedantry takes its rise, does likewise give birth to avarice. Words 
 and money are both to be regarded as only marks of things ; and 
 as the knowledge of the one, so the possession of the other is of 
 no use, unless directed to a farther end. A mutual commerce 
 could not be carried on among men, if some common standard 
 had not been agreed upon, to which the value of al the various 
 productions of art and nature were reducible, and which might be 
 of the same use in the conveyance of property as words are in that 
 of ideas. Gold, by its beauty, scarceness, and durable nature, 
 
 "\J 
 
 seems designed by Providence to a purpose so excellent and 
 advantageous to mankind. Upon these considerations that metal 
 came first into esteem. But such who cannot see beyond what 
 is nearest in the pursuit, beholding mankind touched with an 
 affection for gold, and being ignorant of the true reason that 
 introduced this odd passion into human nature, imagine some 
 intrinsic worth in the metal to be the cause of it. Hence the 
 same men who, had they been turned towards learning, would 
 
288 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 have employed themselves in laying up words in their memory,, 
 are by a different application employed to as much purpose in 
 treasuring up gold in their coffers. They differ only in the object; 
 the principle on which they act, and the inward frame of mind, is 
 the same in the critic and the miser/ 
 
 No. 84. The 'Guardian.' — June 17, 17 13. 
 
 Non missura cutem nisi plena cruoris hirudo. — Hor. 
 Sticking like leeches, till they burst with blood. — Roscommon. 
 
 ' To Nestor Ironside, Esq. 
 
 ' Sir, — Presuming you may sometimes condescend to take 
 cognisance of small enormities, I lay one here before you without 
 farther apology. 
 
 ' There is a silly habit among many of our minor orators, who 
 display their eloquence in the several coffee-houses of this fair 
 city, to the no small annoyance of considerable numbers of her 
 Majesty's spruce and loving subjects, and that is, a humour they 
 have got of twisting off your buttons. These 
 ingenious gentlemen are not able to advance 
 three words till they have got fast hold of one 
 of your buttons ; but as soon as they have 
 procured such an excellent handle for dis- 
 course, they will indeed proceed with great 
 elocution. I know not how well some may 
 have escaped ; but for my part, I have often 
 met with them to my cost ; having, I believe, 
 within these three years last past, been argued 
 out of several dozen ; insomuch that I have for some time ordered 
 my tailor to bring me home with every suit a dozen at least of 
 spare ones, to supply the place of such as, from time to time, are 
 detached as a help to discourse, by the vehement gentlemen 
 before mentioned. In the coffee-houses here about the Temple, 
 you may harangue even among our dabblers in politics for about 
 two buttons a-day, and many times for less. I had yesterday the 
 good fortune to receive very considerable additions to my know- 
 ledge in state affairs ; and I find this morning that it has not stood 
 me in above a button. Besides the gentlemen before mentioned, 
 
THE 'GUARDIAN.' 289 
 
 there are others who are no less active in their harangues, but with 
 gentle services rather than robberies. These, while they are im- 
 proving your understanding, are at the same time setting off your 
 person : they will new plait and adjust your neckcloth. 
 
 1 1 am of opinion that no orator or speaker in public or private 
 has any right to meddle with anybody's clothes but his own. I 
 indulge men in the liberty of playing with their own hats, fumbling 
 in their own pockets, settling their own periwigs, tossing or twisting 
 their heads, and all other gesticulations which may contribute to 
 their elocution, but pronounce it an infringement of the English 
 liberty, for a man to keep his neighbour's person in custody in 
 order to force a hearing; and farther declare, that all assent 
 given by an auditor under such constraint is of itself void and of 
 no effect' 
 
 No. 92. The ' Guardian/— yme 26, 1713. 
 
 Homunculi quanti sunt, cum recognito ! — Plautus. 
 Now I recollect, how considerable are these little men. 
 
 ' The most eminent persons of our club are, a little poet, a little 
 lover, a little politician, and a little hero. 
 
 ' Tom Tiptoe, a dapper little fellow, 
 is the most gallant lover of the age. He 
 is particularly nice in his habiliments ; 
 and to the end justice may be done in 
 that way, constantly employs the same 
 artist who makes attire for the neigh- 
 bouring princes, and ladies of quality. 
 The vivacity of his temper inclines him 
 sometimes to boast of the favours of 
 the fair. He was the other night ex- 
 cusing his absence from the club on account of an assignation with 
 a lady (and, as he had the vanity to tell us, a tall one too), but 
 one of the company, who was his confidant, assured us she was a 
 woman of humour, and consented she would permit him to kiss 
 her, but only on the condition that his toe must be tied to hers.' 
 
 u 
 
290 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 No. 100. The 'Guardian.' — July 6, 1713. 
 
 If snowy-white your neck, you still should wear 
 
 That, and the shoulder of the left arm, bare ; 
 
 Such sights ne'er fail to fire my am'rous heart, 
 
 And make me pant to kiss the naked part. — Congreve. 
 
 
 ' There is a certain female orna- 
 ment, by some called a tucker, and 
 by others the neckpiece, being a slip 
 of fine linen or muslin, that used to 
 run in a small kind of ruffle round 
 the uppermost verge of the women's 
 stays, and by that means covered a 
 great part of the shoulders and 
 bosom. Having thus given a defi- 
 nition, or rather description, of the 
 tucker, I must take notice, that our ladies have of late thrown 
 aside this fig-leaf, and exposed in its primitive nakedness that 
 gentle swelling of the breast which it was used to conceal. 
 
 ' If we survey the pictures of our great-grandmothers in Queen 
 Elizabeth's time, we see them clothed down to the very wrists, and 
 up to the very chin. The hands and face were the only samples 
 they gave of their beautiful persons. The following age of females 
 made larger discoveries of their complexion. They first of all 
 tucked up their garments to the elbow ; and, notwithstanding the 
 tenderness of the sex, were content, for the information of man- 
 kind, to expose their arms to the coldness of the air, and injuries 
 of the weather. This artifice hath succeeded to their wishes, and 
 betrayed many to their arms, who might have escaped them had 
 they been still concealed. 
 
 ' About the same time, the ladies considering that the neck 
 was a very modest part in a human body, they freed it from those 
 yokes, I mean those monstrous linen ruffs in which the simpli- 
 city of their grandmothers had enclosed it. In proportion as the 
 age refined, the dress still sunk lower ; so that when we now say 
 a woman has a handsome neck, we reckon into it many of the 
 adjacent parts. The disuse of the tucker has still enlarged it, 
 insomuch that the neck of a fine woman at present takes in almost 
 half the body,' 
 
THE l GUARDIAN* 291 
 
 No. 114. The 'Guardian.' — July 22, 1713. 
 
 Take the hives, and fall to work upon the honeycombs ; the drones refuse, 
 the bees accept the proposal. 
 
 1 1 think myself obliged to acquaint the public 
 that the lion's head, of which I advertised 
 them about a fortnight ago, is now erected 
 at Button's coffee-house, in Russell Street, 
 Covent Garden, where it opens its mouth 
 at all hours for the reception of such intel- 
 ligence as shall be thrown into it. It is 
 reckoned an excellent piece of workman- 
 ship, and was designed by a great hand in 
 imitation of the antique Egyptian lion, the face of it being com- 
 pounded out of that of a lion and a wizard. The features are 
 strong and well furrowed. The whiskers are admired by all that 
 have seen them. It is planted on the western side of the coffee- 
 house, holding its paws under the chin upon a box, which contains 
 everything that he swallows. He is indeed a proper emblem of 
 knowledge and action, being all head and paws. 
 
 ' I need not acquaint my readers that my lion, like a moth or 
 bookworm, feeds upon nothing but paper, and shall only beg of 
 them to diet him with wholesome and substantial food. I must 
 therefore desire that they will not gorge him either with nonsense 
 or obscenity ; and must likewise insist that his mouth must not be 
 denied with scandal, for I would not make use of him to revile the 
 human species, and satirise those who are his betters. I shall not 
 surfer him to worry any man's reputation ; nor indeed fall on any 
 person whatsoever, such only excepted as disgrace the name of 
 this generous animal, and under the title of lions contrive the ruin 
 of their fellow-subjects. Those who read the history of the Popes, 
 observe that the Leos have been the best and the Innocents the 
 worst of that species ; and I hope I shall not be thought to dero- 
 gate from my lion's character, by representing him as such a 
 peaceable, good-natured, well-designing beast.' 
 
 u 2 
 
292 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 No. 129. The 'Guardian.' — Aug. 8, 1713. 
 
 And part with life, only to wound their foe. 
 
 f The " Guardian " prints the following genuine letters to en- 
 lighten readers on the cool and deliberate preparation men of 
 honour have beforetime made for murdering one another under 
 the convenient pretences of duelling : — 
 
 ' " A Monsieur Sackville, — I that am in France hear how much 
 you attribute to yourself in this time, that I have given the world 
 leave to ring your praises. ... If you call to memory, whereas I 
 gave you my hand last, I told you I reserved the heart for a truer 
 reconciliation. Be master of your own weapons and time; the 
 
 place wheresoever I will wait on you. By doing this you shall 
 shorten revenge, and clear the idle opinion the world hath of both 
 our worths. Ed. Bruce." 
 
 1 " A Monsieur le Baron de Kinloss,— As it shall be always far 
 from me to seek a quarrel, so will I always be ready to meet with 
 any that desire to make trial of my valour by so fair a course as 
 you require. A witness whereof yourself shall be, who within a 
 month shall receive a strict account of time, place, and weapon, 
 where you shall find me ready disposed to give you honourable 
 satisfaction by him that shall conduct you thither. In the mean- 
 time be as secret of the appointment as it seems you are desirous 
 of it. Ed. Sackville." 
 
 ' "Tergosa: August 10, 161 3. 
 
 ' " A Monsieur le Baron de Kinloss,— I am ready at Tergosa, 
 
 a town in Zealand, to give you that satisfaction your sword can 
 
 tender you, accompanied with a worthy gentleman for my second, 
 
 in degree a knight ; and for your coming I will not limit you a 
 
the 'guardian: 293 
 
 peremptory day, but desire you to make a definite and speedy 
 repair, for your own honour, and fear of prevention, until which 
 time you shall find me there. Ed. Sackville." 
 
 1 it 
 
 A Monsieur Sackville, — I have received your letter by your 
 man, and acknowledge you have dealt nobly with me ; and now I 
 come with all possible haste to meet you. 'Ed. Bruce." ' 
 
 No. 140. The 'Guardian.' — Aug. 21, 1713. 
 
 A sight might thaw old Priam's frozen age, 
 And warm e'en Nestor into amorous rage. 
 
 * To Pope Clement VIII. Nestor Ironside, Greeting. 
 
 ' 1 have heard, with great satisfaction, that you have forbidden 
 your priests to confess any woman who appears before them 
 without a tucker ; in which you please me well. I do agree with 
 you that it is impossible for a good man to discharge his office 
 as he ought, who gives an ear to those alluring penitents that 
 discover their hearts and necks to him at the same time. I am 
 labouring, as much as in me lies, 
 to stir up the same spirit of mo- 
 desty among the women of this 
 island, and should be glad we might 
 assist one another in so good a 
 work. In order to it, I desire that 
 you would send me over the length 
 of a Roman lady's neck, as it stood 
 before your late prohibition. We 
 have some here who have necks of 
 one, two, and three feet in length ; 
 some that have necks which reach 
 down to their middles ; and, indeed, 
 
 some who may be said to be all neck, and no body. I hope at 
 the same time you observe the stays of your female subjects, that 
 you have also an eye to their petticoats, which rise in this island 
 daily. When the petticoat reaches but to the knee, and the stays 
 fall to the fifth rib (which I hear is to be the standard of each 
 as it has been lately settled in a junto of the sex), I will take care to 
 
294 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 send you one of either sort, which I advertise you of beforehand, 
 that you may not compute the stature of our English women from 
 the length of their garments. In the meantime, I have desired 
 the master of a vessel, who tells me that he shall touch at Civita 
 Vecchia, to present you with a certain female machine, which I 
 believe will puzzle your infallibility to discover the use of it. Not 
 to keep you in suspense, it is what we call, in this country, a 
 hooped petticoat. I shall only beg of you to let me know whether 
 you find any garment of this nature among all the relics of your 
 female saints ; and, in particular, whether it was ever worn by any 
 of your twenty thousand virgin martyrs. 
 
 1 Yours, usque ad aras, 
 
 ' Nestor Ironside.' 
 
 No. 153. The ' Guardian.' — Sept. 5, 1713. 
 
 A mighty pomp, tho' made of little things. — Dryden. 
 
 ' If there be anything which makes human nature appear ridi- 
 culous to beings of superior faculties it must be pride. They 
 know so well the vanity of those imaginary perfections that swell 
 the heart of man, and of those little supernumerary advantages, 
 whether of birth, fortune, or title, which one man enjoys above 
 another, that it must certainly very much astonish, if it does not 
 very much divert them, when they see a mortal puffed up, and 
 valuing himself above his neighbours on any of these accounts, at 
 the same time that he is obnoxious to all the common calamities 
 of the species. 
 
 ' To set this thought in its true light, we will fancy, if you 
 please, that yonder molehill is inhabited by reasonable creatures, 
 and that every pismire (his shape and way of life only excepted) 
 is endowed with human passions. How should we smile to hear 
 one give us an account of the pedigrees, distinctions, and titles 
 that reign among them ! Observe how the whole swarm divide 
 and make way for the pismire that passes through them ! You 
 must understand he is an emmet of quality, and has better blood 
 in his veins than any pismire in the molehill. Do not you see 
 how sensible he is of it, how slow he marches forward, how the 
 whole rabble of ants keep their distance? Here you may observe 
 
THE ' GUARDIAN.' 295 
 
 one placed upon a little eminence, and looking down on a long 
 row of labourers. He is the richest insect on this side the hillock; 
 he has a walk of half a yard in length, and a quarter of an inch in 
 breadth ; he keeps a hundred menial servants, and has at least 
 fifteen barleycorns in his granary. He is now chiding and beslaving 
 the emmet that stands before him, and who, for all that we can 
 discover, is as good an emmet as himself. 
 
 ' But here comes an insect of figure ! Do not you take notice 
 of a little white straw that he carries in his mouth ? That straw, 
 you must understand, he would not part with for the longest track 
 about the molehill ; did you but know what he has undergone to 
 
 
 purchase it. See how the ants of all qualities and conditions 
 swarm about him. Should this straw drop out of his mouth, you 
 would see all this numerous circle of attendants follow the next 
 that took it up, and leave the discarded insect, or run over his 
 back to come at his successor.' 
 
 No. 167. The 'Guardian.' — Sept. 22, 1713. 
 
 Fata viam invenient. — Virg. 
 Fate the way will find. 
 
 'The following story is translated from an Arabian manu- 
 script : — 
 
 ' " The name of Helim is still famous through all the Eastern 
 parts of the world. He was the Governor of the Black Palace, a 
 man of infinite wisdom, and chief of the physicians to Alnareschin, 
 the great King of Persia. 
 
 ' " Anareschin was the most dreadful tyrant that ever reigned 
 over that country. He was of a fearful, suspicious, and cruel nature, 
 having put to death, upon slight surmises, five-and-thirty of his 
 queens, and above twenty sons, whom he suspected of conspiring. 
 
296 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Being at length wearied with the exercise of so many cruelties, 
 and fearing the whole race of Caliphs would be extinguished, he 
 sent for Helim, the good physician, and confided his two remain- 
 ing sons, Ibrahim and Abdallah, then mere infants, to his charge, 
 requesting him to bring them up in virtuous retirement. Helim 
 hid an only child, a girl of noble soul, and a most beautiful person. 
 Abdallah, whose mind was of a more tender turn than that of 
 Ibrahim, grew by degrees so enamoured of her conversation that 
 he did not think he lived unless in the company of his beloved 
 Balsora. 
 
 * " The fame of her beauty was so great that it came to the ears 
 of the king, who, pretending to visit the young princes, his sons, 
 demanded of Helim the sight of his fair daughter. The king was 
 so inflamed with her beauty and behaviour that he sent for Helim 
 the next morning, and told him it was now his design to recom- 
 pense him for all his faithful services, and that he intended to 
 make his daughter Queen of Persia. 
 
 1 " Helim, who remembered the fate of the former queens, and 
 who was also acquainted with the secret love of Abdallah, con- 
 trived to administer a sleeping draught to his daughter, and 
 announced to the king that the news of his intention had overcome 
 her. The king ordered that as he had designed to wed Balsora, 
 her body should be laid in the Black Palace among those of his 
 deceased queens. 
 
 1 " Abdallah soon fretted after his love, and Helim administered 
 a similar potion to his ward, and he was laid in the same tomb. 
 Helim, having charge of the Black Palace, awaited their revival, 
 and then secretly supplied them with sustenance, and finally con- 
 trived, by dressing them as spirits, to convey them away from 
 this sepulchre, and concealed them in a palace which had been 
 bestowed on him by the king in reward for his recovering him 
 from a dangerous illness. 
 
 1 " About ten years after their abode in this place the old king 
 died. The new king, Ibrahim, being one day out hunting, and 
 separated from his company, found himself, almost fainting with 
 heat and thirst, at the foot of Mount Khacan, and, ascending the 
 hill, be arrived at Helim's house and requested refreshments. 
 Helim was, very luckily, there at that time, and after having set 
 before the king the choicest of wines and fruits, finding him 
 
THE 'GUARDIAN: 
 
 '■97 
 
 wonderfully pleased with so seasonable a treat, told him that the 
 best part of his entertainment was to come; upon which he 
 opened to him the whole history of what had passed. The king 
 was at once astonished and transported at so strange a relation, 
 
 and seeing his brother enter the room with Balsora in his hand, 
 he leaped off from the sofa on which he sat, and cried out, ' Tis 
 he ! 'tis my Abdallah ! ' Having said this, he fell upon his neck 
 and wept. 
 
 ' " Ibrahim offered to divide his empire with his brother, but, 
 finding the lovers preferred their retirement, he made them a 
 present of all the open country as far as they could see from the 
 top of Mount Khacan, which Abdallah continued to improve and 
 
298 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 beautify until it became the most delicious spot of ground within 
 the empire, and it is, therefore, called the garden of Persia. 
 
 ' " Ibrahim, after a long and happy reign, died without chil- 
 dren, and was succeeded by Abdallah, the son of Abdallah and 
 Balsora. This was that King Abdallah who afterwards fixed the 
 imperial residence upon Mount Khacan, which continues at this 
 time to be the favourite palace of the Persian Empire." 
 
299 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THACKERAY'S RESEARCHES AMONGST THE WRITINGS OF THE 
 
 early essayists — Continued. 
 
 Characteristic passages from the Works of Humorous Writers of the ' Era of 
 the Georges,' from Thackeray's Library, illustrated with original Marginal 
 Sketches by the Author's hand — The « Humourist,' 1724 — Extracts and 
 Pencillings. 
 
 THE 'HUMOURIST.' 
 
 BEING essays upon several SUBJECTS : * dedicated to the man in. 
 
 THE MOON.' 
 
 London, 1724-5. 
 Of News-writers.* 
 
 Quo virtus tua te vocat, i pede fausto. — Hor. Ep. II. 1. 2. 
 
 ' As to the filling the paper with trifles and things of no signifi- 
 cancy, the instances of it are obvious and numerous. The French 
 king's losing a rotten tooth, and the surgeon's fee thereupon; a 
 duke's taking physic, and a magistrate's swearing a small oath, and 
 a poor thief's ravishing a knapsack, have all, in their turns, fur- 
 nished out deep matter for wit and eloquence to these vigilant 
 
 * I have ever had a great respect for the most ingenious as well as most 
 populous society within the liberties, namely, the authors and carvers of news, 
 generous men ! who daily retail their histories and their parts by pennyworths, 
 and lodge high, and study nightly for the instruction of such as have the Chris- 
 tian charity to lay out a few farthings for these their labours, which, like rain, 
 descend from the clouds for the benefit of the lower world. 
 
 My fellow authors are all men of martial spirits, and have an ungovernable 
 appetite for blood and mortality. As if they were the sextons of the camp, 
 and their papers the charnel-houses, they toll thousands daily to their long 
 home ; a charitable office ! but they are paid for it. 
 
;oo 
 
 THA CKERA VAN A. 
 
 writers, who hawk for adventures. A man of quality cannot steal 
 out of town for a day or two, or return to it, without the attend- 
 ance of a coach and six horses, and a news-writer, who makes 
 the important secret the burden of his paper next day. I have 
 observed, that if a man be but great or rich, the most wretched 
 occasion entitles him to fill a long paragraph in print ; the cutting 
 of his corns for the purpose, or his playing at ombre, never fails to 
 merit publication. Now, if my most diligent brother-writers, who 
 are spies upon the actions and cabinets of the great, would go a 
 
 iittle farther, and tell us when- his grace or his lordship broke his 
 custom by keeping his word, or said a witty thing, or did a gene- 
 rous one, we will freely own they tell us some news, and will thank 
 them for our pleasure and our surprise. 
 
 ' It is with concern, I see, that even the privacies of the poor 
 ladies cannot escape the eyes of these public searchers. How 
 many great ladies do they bring to bed every day of their lives ! 
 for poor madam no sooner begins to make faces, and utter the 
 least groan, but instantly an author stands with his pen in his 
 teeth, ready to hold her back, and to tell the town whether the 
 baby is boy or girl, before the midwife has pulled off her spec- 
 tacles, and described its nose.' 
 
THE 'HUMOURIST: 301 
 
 Of a Country Entertainment. 
 
 ' I am led by the regard which I bear to the ladies and the 
 Christmas holidays to divert my readers with the history of an 
 entertainment, where I made one at the house of a country squire. 
 
 'When I went in I found the dining-room full of ladies, to 
 whom I made a profound bow, and was repaid by a whole circle 
 of curtsies. While I was meditating, with my eyes fixed upon 
 the fire, what I had best say, I could hear one of them whisper to 
 another, " I believe he thinks we smoke tobacco ; " for, my reader 
 must know, I had omitted the country fashion, and not kissed one 
 of them. 
 
 ' At dinner we had many excuses from the lady of the house 
 for our i?idifferent fare, and she had as many declarations from us, 
 her guests, that all was very good. And the squire gave us the 
 
 history and extraction of every fowl that came to the table. He 
 assured us that his poultry had neither kindred nor allies any- 
 where on this side of the Channel. 
 
 ' As soon as we were risen from the table, our great parliament 
 of females presently resolved themselves into committees of twos 
 and threes all over the dining-room, and I perceived that every 
 party was engaged in talking scandal. 
 
 ' The ladies then went into one parlour to their tea, and we 
 men into another to our bottle, over which I was entertained with 
 many ingenious remarks on the price of barley, on dairies and the 
 sheepfold. But as the most engaging conversation is, when too 
 long, sometimes cloying, having smoked my pipe in due silence 
 and attention, I took a trip to the ladies, who had sent to know 
 whether I would drink some tea. When I made my entrance, 
 
3° 2 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 the topic they were on was religion, in their statements about 
 which they were terribly divided, and debated with such agitation 
 and fervour, that I grew in pain for the china cups. 
 
 ' But they happily departed from this warm point, and unani- 
 mously fell backbiting their neighbours, which instantly qualified 
 all their heat and heartily reconciled them to one another, inso- 
 much that all the time the business of scandal was handling there 
 was not one dissenting voice to be heard in the whole assembly. 
 
 ' By this time the music was come, and happy was the woman 
 that could first wipe her mouth and be soonest upon her legs. In 
 the dance some moved very becomingly, but the majority made 
 such a rattle on the boards as quite drowned the music. This 
 made me call to mind your mettlesome horses, that dance on a 
 pavement to the music of their own heels. 
 
 6 We had among us the squire's eldest son, a batchelor and 
 captain of the militia. This honest gentleman, believing, as one 
 would imagine, that good humour and wit consisted in activity of 
 body and thickness of bone, was resolved to be very witty, that is 
 to say, very strong ; he therefore not only threw down most of the 
 women, and with abundance of wit hauled them round the room, 
 but gave us several farther proofs of the sprightliness of his genius, 
 by a great many leaps he made about a yard high, always remem- 
 bering to fall on somebody's toes. This ingenious fancy was 
 applauded by everyone, except the person who felt it, who never 
 happened to have complaisance enough to fall in with the general 
 laugh that was raised on that occasion. For my own part, who 
 am an occasional conformist to common custom, I was ashamed 
 
the < humourist: 303 
 
 to be singular, so I even extended my mouth into a smile, and 
 put my face into a laughing posture too. His mother, observing 
 me to look pleased with her son's activity and gay deportment, 
 told me in my ear, " he was never worse company than I saw him:' 
 To which I answered, " I vow, madam, I believe you? ' 
 
 Of the Spleen. 
 
 I In constitutions where this humorous distemper prevails, it 
 is surprising how trifling a matter will inflame it. 
 
 I I shall never forget an ingenious doctor of physick, who was so 
 jealous of the honour of his whiskers, which he was pleased to 
 christen " the emblems of his virility," that he resolutely made the 
 
 sun shine through every unhappy cat that ill-fate threw in his way. 
 He magnanimously professed that his spirit could not brook it, 
 that any cat in Christendom, noble or ignoble, should rival the 
 reputation of his upper lip. In every other respect our physician 
 was a well-bred person, and, which is as wonderful, understood 
 Latin. But we see the deepest learning is no charm against the 
 spleen.' 
 
 Of Ghosts. 
 
 ' All sorts of people, when they get together, will find some- 
 thing to talk of. News, politics, and stocks comprise the con- 
 versation of the busy and trading world. Rakes and men of 
 pleasure fight duels with men they never spoke to, and betray 
 women they never saw, and do twenty fine feats over their cups 
 which they never do anywhere else. And children, servants, and 
 old women, and others of the same size of understanding, please 
 and terrify themselves and one another with spirits and goblins. 
 In this case a ghost is no more than a help to discourse. 
 
304 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 1 A late very pious but very credulous bishop was relating a 
 strange story of a demon, that haunted a girl in Lothbury, to a 
 company of gentlemen in the City, when one of them told his 
 lordship the following adventure : — 
 
 ' " As I was one night reading in bed, as my custom is, and all 
 my family were at rest, I heard a foot deliberately ascending the 
 stairs, and as it came nearer I heard something breathe. While I 
 was musing what it should be, three hollow knocks at my door 
 made me ask who was there, and instantly the door blew open." 
 " Ah ! sir, and pray what did you see ? " " My lord, I'll tell you. 
 A tall thin figure stood before me, with withered hair, and an 
 
 earthly aspect; he was covered with a long sooty garment, that 
 descended to his ankles, and his waist was clasped close within a 
 broad leathern girdle. In one hand he held a black staff taller 
 than himself, and in the other a round body of pale light, which 
 shone feebly every way." " That's remarkable ! pray, sir, go on." 
 " It beckoned to me, and I followed it down stairs, and there it 
 pointed to the door, and then left me, and made a hideous noise 
 in the street." " This is really odd and surprising ; but, pray now, 
 did it give you no notice what it might particularly seek or aim 
 at?" "Yes, my lord, it was the watchman, who came to show 
 me that my servants had left all my doors open." ; 
 
THE 'HUMOURIST: 
 
 305 
 
 Of Keeping the Commandments. 
 
 1 1 have been humbly of opinion for many years that the keeping 
 of the Ten Commandments was a matter not altogether unworthy 
 of our consideration and practice ; and though I am of the same 
 sentiments still, yet I dare hardly publish them, knowing that if I 
 am against the world, the world will be against me. I must not 
 affront modern politeness and the common mode. 
 
 ' Who would have the boldness to mention the first command- 
 ment to Matilda, when he has seen her curt'sying to herself in 
 the glass, and kissing her lap-dog, and worshipping these two 
 divine creatures from morning till night ? Nor is Matilda without 
 other deities ; she has several sets of china, a diamond necklace, 
 and a grey monkey ; and, in spite of her parents and her reason, 
 she is guilty of will-worship to Dick Noodle. But this last is no 
 wonder at all, for Dick 
 wears fine brocade waist- 
 coats and the best Mechlin, 
 and no man of the age 
 picks his teeth with greater 
 elegance. 
 
 'And would it not be 
 equally bold and barbarous 
 to enslave a beau or a bully 
 with the tyranny of the 
 third commandment? when 
 it's well known that these 
 worthy gentlemen and bro- 
 thers in understanding and 
 courage must either be dumb or damning themselves ; and, there- 
 fore, to stop their swearing would be to stop their breath, and gag 
 them to all eternity. Beau Wittol courts Arabella with great suc- 
 cess, and it is not doubted he will carry her, though he was never 
 heard to make any other speech or compliment to her than that 
 of " Demme, madam ! " after which he squeezes her hand, takes 
 snufT, and grins in her face with wonderful wit and gaiety. 
 Arabella smiles, and owns with her eyes her admiration of these 
 accomplishments of a fine gentleman? 
 
 x 
 
3 o6 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Of Flattery. 
 
 ' Flattery is the art of selling wind for a round sum of 1-eady 
 money. A sycophant blows up the mind of his unhappy patient 
 into a tympany, and then, like other physicians, receives a fee for 
 his poison. It is his business to instruct men to mistake them- 
 selves at a great expense ; to shut their eyes, and then pay for 
 being blind. Thus the end of excelling in any art or profession 
 is to have that excellence known and admired. 
 
 'Sing-song Nero, an ancestor of Mr. Tom d'Urfey, would, pro- 
 bably, never have banished the sceptre and adopted the fiddle, 
 but that he found it much easier for his talents to scrape than to 
 govern. In this reign, he that had a musical ear, or could twist a 
 catgut, was made a man ; and the fiddlers ruled the Roman 
 
 empire by the singular merit of condescending to be viler thrum- 
 mers than the emperor himself. He who at that time could but 
 wonder greatly, and gape artfully at his Majesty's royal skill in 
 crowding, might be governor of a province, or Lord High 
 Treasurer, or what else he pleased. 
 
 'This imperial piper used to go the circuit, and call the 
 provinces together, to be refreshed with a tune upon the fiddle, 
 and if they had the policy to smother a laugh, and raise an 
 outrageous clap, their taxes were paid, and they had whatever they 
 asked ; and so miserably was this monarch and madman bewitched 
 by himself and his sycophants with the character of a victorious 
 fiddler, that when he was abandoned by God and man, and, as an 
 enemy to mankind, sentenced to be whipped to death, he did not 
 
THE 'HUMOURIST: 
 
 W 
 
 grieve so much for the loss of his empire as the loss of his fiddle. 
 When he had no mortal left to natter him, he flattered himself, 
 and his last words were, " Qua/is Artifex pereo ! — What a brave 
 scraper is lost in me ! " And then he buried a knife in his inside, 
 and made his death the best action of his life ! ' 
 
 Of Retirement. 
 
 ' To be absolute master of one's own time and actions is an 
 instance of liberty which is not found but in solitude. A man that 
 lives in a crowd is a slave, even though all that are about him fawn 
 upon him and give him the upper-hand. They call him master, or 
 
 lord, and treat him as such ; but as they hinder him from doing 
 what he otherwise would, the title and homage which they pay 
 him is flattery and contradiction.* 
 
 ' I ever loved retirement, and detested crowds ; I would rather 
 pass an afternoon amongst a herd of deer, than half an hour at a 
 coronation ; and sooner eat a piece of apple-pie in a cottage, than 
 dine with a judge on the circuit. To lodge a night by myself in a 
 cave would not grieve me so much as living half a day in a fair. 
 It will look a little odd when I own that I have missed many a 
 good sermon for no other reason but that many others were to 
 
 * Nothing is so valuable as Time ; and he who comes undesired to help 
 to pass it away, might with the same civility and good sense give you to 
 understand that he is come, out of pure love to you, with a coach-and-six and 
 all his family, to help you to pass away your estate. To have one's hours and 
 recesses at the mercy of visitants and intruders is arrant thraldom ; and though 
 I am an author, I farther declare I would rather pay a mere trifler half-a-crown 
 a time than be entertained with his visits and his compliments. 
 
 X2 
 
3o8 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 hear it as well as myself. I have neither disliked the man, nor 
 his principles, nor his congregation, singly ; but altogether I could 
 not abide them. 
 
 ' I am, therefore, exceedingly happy in the solitude which I 
 am now enjoying. I frequently stand under a tree, and with great 
 humanity pity one half of the world, and with equal contempt 
 laugh at the other half. I shun the company of men, and seek 
 that of oxen, and sheep, and deer, and bushes ; and when I can 
 hide myself for the moiety of a day from the sight of every creature 
 but those that are dumb, I consider myself as monarch of all that 
 I see or tread upon, and fancy that Nature smiles and the sun 
 shines for my sake only. 
 
 ' My eyes at those seasons are the seat of pleasure, and I do 
 not interrupt their ranging by the impertinence of memory, or 
 solicitude of any kind. I neither look a day forward nor a day 
 backward, but voluptuously enjoy the present moment. My mind 
 follows my senses, and refuses all images which these do not then 
 present' 
 
 Of Bubbles. 
 
 ' The world has often been ruled by men who were themselves 
 ruled by the worst qualities and most sordid views. The prince, 
 says a great French politician, governs the people, and interest 
 governs the prince. 
 
 ' Hence it comes to pass, that few men care how they rise in 
 the world, so they do but rise. They know that success expiates 
 all rogueries, and never misses reverence ; and that he who was 
 called villain or murderer in the race, is often christened saint or 
 hero at the goal. 
 
 ' The present possession of money or power is always a ready 
 patent for respect and submission. He that gets a hundred thou- 
 sand pounds by a bubble — that is, by selling a bag of wind to his 
 credulous countrymen — is a greater idol in every coffee-house in 
 town than he who is worth but ninety thousand, though acquired 
 by honest trading or ingenious arts, which profit mankind, and 
 bring credit to his country ; and thus every South Sea cub shall, 
 by the sole merit of his million, vie for respect and followers with 
 any lord in the land, though it should strangely happen, as it 
 
THE 'HUMOURIST: 309 
 
 sometimes does, that his lordship's virtues and parts ennoble his 
 title and quality. It matters not whether your father was a tinker, 
 and you, his worthy son, a broker or a sharper, provided you be 
 but a South Sea man. If you are but that, the whole earth is your 
 humble servant. 
 
 ' At present, nothing farther is necessary towards getting an 
 estate— that is, merit and respect— than a little money, much 
 roguery, and many lies. With what indignation have I beheld a 
 peer of the realm courting the good graces of a little haberdasher 
 with great cash, and begging a few shares in a bubble which the 
 honourable Goodman Bever had just then invented to cheat his 
 fellow- citizens ! 
 
 ' But exalted boobies being below satire, I shall here only con- 
 sider a little the mischiefs brought upon the public by the projects 
 which bring them their wealth. It is melancholy to consider that 
 power follows property, when we consider at the same time into 
 what vile hands the property is fallen, and by what vile means, 
 even by bubbles and direct cheating. 
 
 'Of our second-hand bubbles, I blame not one more than 
 another; their name shows 
 their nature. The " Great 
 Bubble" of all set them 
 an example, and began 
 first. By it immense for- 
 tunes have been got to 
 
 particular men, most of ^^^g^T// ^Jj§ "X-J^ 
 them obscure and un- 
 heard of; happy for 
 
 their own characters, and for the nation's trade, if they had still 
 remained so. I hope our all is not yet at the mercy of sharpers, 
 ignorant, mercenary sharpers; but I should be glad to see it 
 proved that it will not be so.' 
 
 Of Travels. 
 ' As every man is in his own opinion fit to come abroad in 
 print, so every occasion that can put him upon prating to mankind 
 is sufficient to put his pen running, provided he himself can hold 
 the principal character in his own book. 
 
Jio 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 1 Of all the several classes of scribblers, there is none more 
 silly than your authors of Travels. There are several things 
 common to all these travellers, and yet peculiar to every particular 
 traveller. I have at this time in my hands a little manuscript, 
 entitled " Travels from Exeter to London, with proper obsei'va- 
 tions" By the sagacity shown in the remarks, I take the author 
 to be some polite squire of Devon. In the following passages our 
 traveller records his observations in the great metropolis : — 
 
 ' " In this great city people are quite another thing than what 
 they are out of it ; insomuch, that he who will be very great with 
 you in the country, will scarce pull off his hat to you in London. 
 I once dined at Exeter with a couple of judges, and they talked to 
 me there, and drank my health, and we were very familiar 
 
 together. So when I saw them again passing through West- 
 minster Hall, I was glad of it with all my heart, and ran to them 
 with a broad smile, to ask them how they did, and to shake hands 
 with them ; but they looked at me so coldly and so proudly as you 
 cannot imagine, and did not seem to know me, at which I was 
 confounded, angry, and mad ; but I kept my mind to myself. 
 
 1 "At another time I was at the playhouse (which is a rare place 
 for mirth, music, and dancing), and, being in the pit, saw in one of 
 the boxes a member of Parliament of our county, with whom I 
 have been as great as hand and glove ; so being overjoyed to see 
 him, I called to him aloud by his name, and asked him how he 
 did ; but instead of saluting me again, or making any manner of 
 answer, he looked plaguy sour, and never opened his mouth,, 
 though when he is in the country he is as merry a grig as any in 
 forty miles, and we have cracked many a bottle together." ' 
 
THE 'HUMOURIST.' 311 
 
 Of Education. 
 
 ' People, put by their education into a narrow track of 
 thinking, are as much afraid of getting out of it as children of 
 quitting their leading-strings when first they learn to go. They 
 are taught a raging fondness for a parcel of names that are never 
 explained to them ; and an implacable fierceness against another 
 set of names that are never explained to them ; so they jog on in 
 the heavy steps of their forefathers, or in the wretched and narrow 
 paths of poor-spirited and ignorant pedagogues. They believe 
 they are certainly in the right, and therefore never take the pains 
 to find out that they are certainly in the wrong. 
 
 1 From this cause it comes to pass that many English gentle- 
 men are as much afraid of reading some English books as were 
 the poor blind Papists of reading books prohibited by their 
 priests ; which were, indeed, all books that had either religion or 
 sense in them. 
 
 ' How nicely are those men taught who are taught prejudice ! 
 A tincture of bigotry appears in all the actions of a bigot. He 
 will neither, with his good liking, eat or drink, or sleep or travel 
 with you, till he has received full conviction that you wash your 
 hands and pare your nails just as he does. 
 
 ' Here is a squire come down from London who is very rich, 
 and has bought a world of land in our county of Wilts. The first 
 thing he did when he came among us was to declare that he would 
 have no dealings nor conversation with any Whig whatsoever; and, 
 to make his word good, having bespoke several beds and other 
 furniture to a considerable value of an upholsterer here, he re- 
 turned the whole upon the poor man's hands because his wife had 
 a brother who was a Presbyterian parson. 
 
 ' But this worthy and ingenious squire was very well served by 
 an officer of the army at a horse race here. They were drinking, 
 among other company, the King's health, at the door of a public- 
 house, on horseback ; the officer, when it came to his turn, drank 
 it to this Doughty Highflyer, who happened to be next to him, 
 upon which he made some difficulty at pledging it, suggesting that 
 public healths should not be proposed in mixed company. " You 
 
113 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 would say," says the officer, " if you durst, that a High Church- 
 man would not have his Majesty's health proposed to him at all." 
 Upon this he swore he was a High Churchman, and was not 
 ashamed of it. " So 1 guessed," said the officer, " by your disloy- 
 alty." " But, Sir," says the officer, " even disloyalty to your prince 
 need not make you show your ill-breeding in company." The 
 squire chafed most violently at this, and urged, as a proof of his 
 
 good breeding, that he had been bred at Oxford. 
 
 "So I guessed," says the officer, "by your ignorance." 
 
 This nettled the squire to the height, and fired his 
 
 little soul at the expense of the outer case, for he 
 
 proceeded to give ill 
 
 words, and to call ill 
 
 names • but the officer 
 
 quickly taught him, by 
 
 the nose, to hold his 
 
 tongue, and ask pardon. 
 
 Thus it always fares with 
 the High Church in fighting as it does in disputing : she is con- 
 stantly beaten ; and the courage and understanding of her passive 
 sons tally with each other.' 
 
 Of Women. 
 
 ' Some of my fair correspondents have lately reproached me 
 with negligence and indifference to their sex; but if they could 
 know how vain I am of so obliging a reprimand, they would be 
 sensible, too, how little I deserved it. I am not so entirely a 
 statue as to be insensible of the power of beauty, nor so absolutely 
 a woman's creature as to be blind to their little weaknesses, their 
 pretty follies and impertinences. 
 
 ' It will be necessary to inform my readers that my landlady is 
 an eminent milliner, and a considerable dealer in Flanders lace. 
 She is one of those whom we call notable women; she has run 
 through the rough and smooth of life, has a very good plain sense 
 of things, and knows the world, as far as she is concerned in it, 
 very well. I am very much entertained by her company ; her 
 discourse is sure to be seasoned with scandal, ancient and modern, 
 which, though the morals and gravity of my character do not 
 
THE 'HUMOURIST: 
 
 allow me to join in, yet, such is the infirmity of human nature, I 
 find it impossible to be heartily displeased with it as I ought. 
 
 ' If I come in at a time when the shop, which is commodiously 
 situated above stairs, is full of company, I usually place myself in 
 an obscure corner of it, and observe 
 what passes with secret satisfaction. Tis 
 pleasant to hear my landlady, by the 
 mere incessancy of tittle-tattle, persuade 
 her pretty customers out of all the un- 
 derstanding that they brought along with 
 them ; and on the other side of the counter 
 to see the little bosoms pant with irreso- 
 lution, and swell at the view of trifles, which humour and custom 
 have taught them to call necessary and convenient. Hard by 
 perhaps stands a customer of inferior quality, a citizen's wife 
 suppose her, who is reduced to the hard necessity of regulating her 
 expenses by her husband's allowance, and is bursting with vexation 
 to know herself stinted to lace of but fifty shillings a yard ; whereas 
 if she could rise to three pounds, she might be mistress of a very 
 pretty head, and what she really thinks she need not be ashamed 
 to be seen in. But for want of this all goes wrong ; she hates her 
 superiors, despises her husband, neglects her children, and is 
 ashamed and weary of herself. 
 
 ' This seems ridiculous to my men readers, and it certainly is 
 so; but are our follies and extravagances more reasonable? 
 Or, rather, are they not infinitely more 
 dangerous and destructive? What vio- 
 lences do we not commit upon our con- 
 sciences for the mere gratification of our 
 avarice ? How much of the real ease and 
 happiness of life do we daily sacrifice to 
 the vanity of ambition? Is it possible, 
 then, since even the greatest men are but a 
 bigger sort of children, to be seriously angry that women are no 
 more ? If in my old age I am struck with the harmony of a 
 rattle, or long to get astride on a hobby-horse ; if I love still to be 
 caressed and flattered, and am delighted with good words and 
 high titles, why should I be angry that my wife and daughters do 
 not play the philosopher, and have not more wit than myself? 
 
314 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Of Masquerades. 
 
 1 1 must desire my reader, as he values his repose, not to let 
 his thoughts run upon anything loose or frightful for two hours at 
 least before he goes to bed. Titus Livius, the Roman historian, 
 is my usual entertainment, when I don't find myself disposed for 
 closer application. Happening to come home sooner than ordi- 
 nary two nights ago, I took it up, and read the 8th and following 
 chapters of his 39th book, where he gives us a large account of 
 some nocturnal assemblies lately set up at Rome ; I think he calls 
 them Bacchanals, and describes the ceremonies, rites of initiation, 
 and religious practices, together with their music, singing, shrieks, 
 
 and howlings. The men were dressed like satyrs, and raved like 
 persons distracted, with enthusiastic motions of the head and 
 violent distortions of the body. The ladies ran with their hair 
 about their ears and burning torches in their hands ; some covered 
 with the skins of panthers, others with those of tigers, all attended 
 with drums and trumpets, while they themselves were the most 
 noisy. " To this diversion," says the historian, " were added the 
 pleasures of feasting and wine to draw the more in ; and when 
 wine, the night, and a mixed company of men and women, jumbled 
 together, had extinguished all sense of shame, there were extrava- 
 gances of all sorts committed ; each having that pleasure ready 
 prepared for him to which his nature was most inclined." 
 
 ' Tis with design I have referred my reader to the very place, 
 being resolved not to trouble him with any farther relation of these 
 midnight revellings, for fear I should draw him into the same mis- 
 
THE 'humourist: 
 
 31* 
 
 fortune I unluckily fell under myself. The very idea of it makes 
 me tremble still, when I think of those monstrous habits, fantas- 
 tical gestures, hideous faces, and confused noises I had in my 
 sleep. Join to these the many assignations made for the next 
 night, the signs given for the present execution of former agree- 
 ments ; and the various plots and contrivances I overheard, for 
 parting man and wife, and ruining whole families at once. These 
 frightful appearances put me into such uncommon agitations of 
 body, and I looked so ghastly at my first waking, that a friend of 
 mine, who came early in the morning to make me a visit, was 
 struck with such a terror at the sight of me, that he made to the 
 street door as fast he could, where he had only time to bid one 
 of my servants run for a physician immediately, for he was sure I 
 was going mad.' 
 
 Of Sedition. 
 
 ' The multitude of papers is a complaint so common in the 
 introduction of every new one, that it would be a shame to repeat 
 it ; for my own part, I am so far 
 from repining at this evil, that I 
 sincerely wish there were ten times 
 the number. By this means one 
 may hope to see the appetite for 
 impertinence, defamation, and trea- 
 son (so prevalent in the generality 
 of readers) at last surfeit itself, and 
 my honoured brethren the modern 
 authors be obliged to employ them- 
 selves in some more honest manu- 
 facture than that of the Belles Lettres. 
 
 ' 'Tis impossible for one who has 
 the least knowledge and regard for 
 his country's interest to look into a 
 coffee-house without the greatest 
 concern. Industry and application 
 are the true and genuine honour of 
 a trading city; where these are everywhere visible all is welL 
 Whenever I see a false thirst for knowledge in my own country- 
 
3i6 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 men, I am sorry they ever learnt to read. I would not be thought 
 an enemy to literature (being, indeed, a very learned person my- 
 self), but when I observe a worthy trader, without any natural 
 malice of his own, sucking in the poison of popularity, and boiling 
 with indignation against an administration which the pamphleteer 
 informs him is very corrupt, I am grieved that ever Machiavel, 
 Hobbes, Sidney, Filmer, and the more illustrious moderns, including 
 myself, appeared in human nature. 
 
 ' Idleness is the parent of innumerable vices, and detraction is 
 generally the first, though not immediately the most mischievous, 
 that is born of it. The mind of man is of such an ill make that it 
 relishes defamation much better than applause ; so every writer 
 who makes his court to the multitude must sacrifice his superiors 
 to his patrons. 
 
 * That there is a very great and indefeasible authority in the 
 people, or Commons of Great Britain, everyone allows. Power is 
 ever naturally and rightfully founded in those who have anything 
 
 to risk ; and this power delegated into the hands of Parliament, it 
 there becomes legally absolute, and the people are, by their very 
 constitution, obliged to a passive obedience. 
 
 ' Nothing is better known than this, nothing on all sides more 
 generally allowed, and one would imagine nothing could sooner 
 silence the clamour of little statesmen and politicians ; that jargon 
 of public- spiritedness, which wastes so much of the time of the busy 
 part of our countrymen. The misfortune is that though everyone 
 
THE 'HUMOURIST: 
 
 317 
 
 (who is not indeed crack-brained with the love of his country) will 
 own that the populace, by having delegated the right of inspecting 
 public affairs to others, have no authority to be troublesome about 
 it themselves, yet everyone excepts himself from the multitude, 
 and imagines that his own particular talent for public business 
 ought to exempt him from so severe a restraint. Hence arises the 
 great demand for newspapers and coffee. Happy is it for the 
 nation and for the Government that the distemper and the medi- 
 cine are found at the same place, and the blue-apron officer who 
 presents you with a newspaper, to heat the brain and disturb the 
 understanding, is ready the same moment to apply those com- 
 posing specificks, a dish and a pipe. Otherwise, what revolutions 
 and abdications might we not expect to see ? I should not be 
 surprised to hear that a general officer in the trained-bands had 
 run stark staring mad out of a coffee-house at noon day, declared 
 for a Free Parliament, and proclaimed my Lord Mayor King of 
 England.' 
 
3 1 8 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THACKERAY'S RESEARCHES AMONGST THE WRITINGS OF THE EARLY 
 
 essayists — Continued. 
 
 Characteristic Passages from the Works of The ' Humourists,' from Thacke- 
 ray's Library, illustrated by the Author's hand, with Marginal Sketches 
 suggested by the Text — The 'World,' 1753 — Introduction — Its Difference 
 from the Earlier Essays — Distinguished Authors who contributed to the 
 ' World ' — Paragraphs and Pencillings. 
 
 The 'World' — writes Dr. Chalmers, in his historical and bio- 
 graphical preface to this series — diners from its predecessors in 
 the general plan, although the ultimate tendency is similar. We 
 have here no philosophy of morals, no indignant censure of the 
 grosser vices, no critical disquisitions, and, in general, scarcely 
 anything serious. Irony is the predominant feature. This caustic 
 species of wit is employed in the ' World ' to execute purposes 
 which other methods had failed to accomplish. 
 
 The authors of these essays affected to consider the follies of 
 their day as beneath their notice, and therefore tried what good 
 might be done by turning them into ridicule, under the mask of 
 defence or apology, and thus ingeniously demonstrated that every 
 defence of what is in itself absurd and wrong, must either partake 
 of the ridiculous, or be intolerable and repugnant to common 
 sense and reason. With such intentions, notwithstanding their 
 apparent good humour, they may, perhaps, in the apprehension 
 of many readers, appear more severe censors of the foibles of the 
 age than any who have gone before them. 
 
 The design, as professed in the first paper, was to ridicule, 
 with novelty and good humour, the fashions, foibles, vices, and 
 absurdities of that part of the human species which calls itself 
 'The World ;' and this the principal writers were enabled to 
 execute with facility, from the knowledge incidental to their rank 
 
THE 'WORLD: 319 
 
 in life, the elevated sphere in which they moved, their intercourse 
 with a part of society not easily accessible to authors in general, 
 and the good sense which prevented them from being blinded by 
 the glare or enslaved by the authority of fashion. 
 
 The * World' was projected by Edward Moore* — in conjunc- 
 tion with Robest Dodsley, the eminent publisher of Johnson's 
 * Dictionary ' — who fixed upon the name ; and by defraying the 
 expense, and rewarding Moore, became, and for many years 
 continued to be, the sole proprietor of the work. 
 
 Edward Moore's abilities, his modest demeanour, inoffensive 
 manners, and moral conduct, recommended him to the men of 
 genius and learning of the age, and procured him the patronage 
 of Lord Lyttleton, who engaged his friends to assist him in the 
 way which a man not wholly dependent would certainly prefer. 
 Dodsley, the publisher, stipulated to pay Moore three guineas for 
 every paper of the ' World ' which he should write, or which might 
 be sent for publication and approved of. Lord Lyttleton, to 
 render this bargain effectual, and an easy source of emolument to 
 his protege, solicited the assistance of such men as are not often 
 found willing to contribute the labours of the pen, men of high 
 rank in the state, and men of fame and fashion, who cheerfully 
 undertook to supply the paper, while Moore reaped the emolu- 
 ment, and perhaps for a time enjoyed the reputation of the whole. 
 But when it became known, as the information soon circulated in 
 whispers, that such men as the Earls of Chesterfield, Bath, and 
 Cork — that Horace Walpole, Richard Owen Cambridge, and 
 Soame Jenyns — besides other persons of both distinction and 
 parts — were leagued in a scheme of authorship to amuse the town, 
 and that the ' World ' was the bow of Ulysses, in which it was ' the 
 fashion for men of rank and genius to try their strength,' we may 
 easily suppose that it would excite the curiosity of the public in an 
 uncommon degree. 
 
 The first paper was published January 24, 1753; it was 
 consequently contemporary with the 'Adventurer,' which began 
 November 7, 1752 ; but as the 'World' was published only once 
 
 * Author of 'Fables for the Female Sex;' he probably approached the 
 nearest of all Gay's imitators to the excellences of that poet. Moore also 
 wrote successfully for the stage. He was the author of the comedies of the 
 ' Foundling ' and ' Gil Bias,' and of the famous tragedy of the ' Gamester.' 
 
320 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 a week, it outlived the ' Adventurer' nearly two years, during 
 which time it ran its course also with the ' Connoisseur.' It was 
 of the same size and type and at the same price with the 'Rambler' 
 and 'Adventurer,' but the sale in numbers was superior to either. 
 In No. 3, Lord Chesterfield states that the number sold weekly 
 was two thousand, which number, he adds, ' exceeds the largest 
 that was ever printed, even of the " Spectator." In No. 49, he 
 hints that ' not above three thousand were sold.' The sale was 
 probably not regular, and would be greater on the days when 
 rumour announced his lordship as the writer. The usual number 
 printed was two thousand five hundred, as stated in a letter from 
 Moore to Dr. Warton. Notwithstanding the able assistance of his 
 right honourable friends, Moore wrote sixty-one of these papers, 
 and part of another. He excelled principally in assuming the 
 serious manner for the purposes of ridicule, or of raising idle 
 curiosity ; his irony is admirably concealed. However trite his 
 subject, he enlivens it by original turns of thought. 
 
 In the last paper, the conclusion of the work is made to 
 depend on a fictitious accident which is supposed to have hap- 
 pened to the author and occasioned his death. When the papers 
 were collected in volumes, Moore superintended the publication, 
 and actually died while this last paper was in the press : a circum- 
 stance somewhat singular, when we look at the contents of it, and 
 which induces us to wish that death may be less frequently in- 
 cluded among the topics of wit. 
 
 It has been the general opinion, for the honour of rank, that 
 the papers written by men of that description in the ' World ' are 
 superior to those of Moore, or of his assistants of 'low degree.' 
 It may be conceded that among the contributories the first place 
 is due, in point of genius, taste, and elegance, to the pen of 
 Philip Dormer Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield's services to this paper were purely voluntary, 
 but a circumstance occurred to his first communication which had 
 nearly disinclined him to send a second. He sent his paper to the 
 publisher without any notice of its authorship ; it underwent a 
 casual inspection, and, from its length, was at least delayed, if 
 not positively rejected. Fortunately Lord Lyttleton saw it at 
 Dodsley's, and knew the hand. Moore then hastened to publish 
 the paper (No. 18), and thought proper to introduce it with an 
 
THE ' WORLD: 321 
 
 apology for the delay, and a neat compliment to the wit and good 
 sense of his correspondent. 
 
 Chesterfield continued his papers occasionally, and wrote in 
 all twenty-three numbers, certainly equal, if not superior, in bril- 
 liancy of wit and novelty of thought, to the most popular produc- 
 tions of this kind. 
 
 A certain interest surrounds most of the authors who assisted 
 in the * World/ and many of the papers were written under cir- 
 cumstances which increase the attraction of their contents. We 
 have not space to particularise special essays, or to enter upon the 
 biographical details which properly belong to our subject; we must 
 restrict further notice to a mere recapitulation of the contributors 
 and their pieces. Richard Owen Cambridge, the author of the 
 * Scribleriad,' wrote in all twenty-one papers. Horace Walpole 
 was the author of nine papers in the ' World,' all of which excel in 
 keen satire, shrewd remark, easy and scholarly diction, and know- 
 ledge of mankind ; indeed, for sprightly humour these papers 
 probably excel all his other writings, and most of those of his 
 contemporaries. For five papers we are indebted to Soarne Jenyns, 
 who held the office and rank of one of the Lords Commis- 
 sioners of the Board of Trade and Plantations. James Tilson, 
 Consul at Cadiz, furnished five papers of considerable merit and 
 novelty. Five papers, chiefly of the more serious kind, were 
 contributed by Edward Loveybond ; the ' Tears of Old May- 
 Day/ No. 82 of the ' World,' is esteemed one of his best poetic 
 compositions. 
 
 W. Whitehead, the Poet Laureate, wrote three papers, Nos. 12, 
 19, and 58, Nos. 79, 156, 202 were written by Richard Berenger, 
 Gentleman of the Horse to the King. Sir James Marriott, Judge 
 of the High Court of Admiralty, and Master of Trinity Hall, 
 Cambridge, wrote Nos. 117, 121, 199. The 'Adventures of the 
 Pumpkin Family,' zealous to defend their honour, given in 
 Nos. 47 and 6$, were written by John, Earl of Cork and Orrery, 
 the amiable nobleman who, as Johnson whimsically declared, 'was 
 so generally civil, that nobody thanked him for it: The Earl of 
 Cork is also said to have contributed Nos. 161 and 185 ; he took 
 a more active part in the ' Connoisseur.' 
 
 To his son, Mr. Hamilton Boyle, who afterwards succeeded 
 
 Y 
 
322 THA CKERA YA NA. 
 
 to the earl's title, the 'World' was indebted for Nos. 60 and 170, 
 two papers drawn up with vivacity, humour, and elegance. 
 
 William Pulteney, Earl of Bath, to whom the second volume 
 of the ' Guardian ' was dedicated, contributed to the ' World,' in 
 his seventy-first year, No. 7, a lively paper on horse-racing and the 
 manners of Newmarket. 
 
 Three papers, Nos. 140, 147, and 204, specimens of easy and 
 natural humour, came from the pen of Sir David Dalrymple, better 
 known as Lord Hailes, one of the senators of the College of 
 Justice in Scotland; in advanced life Lord Hailes contributed 
 several papers remarkable for vivacity and point to the ' Mirror.' 
 William Duncombe, a poetical and miscellaneous writer, was the 
 author of the allegory in No. 84; his son, the Rev. John Dun- 
 combe, of Canterbury, was the author of No. $6. The latter 
 gentleman appears in connection with the 'Connoisseur.' Nos. 
 38 and 74 were written by Mr. Parratt, the author of some poems 
 in Dodsley's collection. Nos. 78 and 86 are from the pen of the 
 Rev. Thomas Cole. 
 
 The remaining writers in the ' World ' were single-paper men, 
 but some of them of considerable distinction in other departments 
 of literary and of public life. 
 
 No. 15 was written by the Rev. Francis Coventrye. No. 26 
 was the production of Dr. Thomas Warton, who was then contri- 
 buting to the 'Adventurer.' In No. 32 criticism is treated with 
 considerable humour as a species of disease by the publisher, 
 Robert Dodsley, whose popularity extended to all ranks. 
 
 No. 37, like Lord Chesterfield's first contributions, was accorded 
 the honour of an extra half- sheet, rather than that the excellences 
 of the letter should be curtailed. It is not only the longest, but is 
 Considered one of the best papers in the collection. It was 
 written by Sir Charles Hunbury Williams, for some time the Eng- 
 lish Minister at the Courts of Berlin and St. Petersburgh. A 
 humorous letter on posts (No. 45) was from the pen of William 
 Hayward Roberts, afterwards Provost of Eton College, Chaplain 
 to the King, and Rector of Farnham Royal, Buckinghamshire. 
 One of the best papers for delicate irony to be found in the entire 
 series of humorous essayists, No. 8^, on the 'Manufactory of 
 Thunder and Lightning,' was written by Mr. William Whittaker, a 
 serjeant-at-law and a Welsh judge. 
 
the ' world: 323 
 
 Nos. no and 159 are attributed to John Gilbert Cooper, author 
 of the 'Life of Socrates/ and 'Letters on Taste.' Thomas 
 Mulso, a brother of Mrs. Chapone, is set down as the writer of 
 No. 31. He published, in 1768, ' Calistus, or the Man of Fashion,' 
 and ' Sophronius, or the Country Gentleman in Dialogues.' James 
 Ridley, author of the ' Tales of the Genii ' and of the ' Schemer/ 
 contributed No. 1 5 5. Mr. Gataker, a surgeon of eminence, was the 
 author of No. 1 84. Mr. Herring, rector of Great Mongeham, Kent, 
 wrote No. 122, on the ' Distresses of a Physician without Patronage/ 
 Mr. Moyle wrote No. 156, on 'False Honour/ and Mr. Burgess 
 No. 198, an excellent paper on the ' Difficulty of Getting Rid of 
 Oneself.' The ' Ode to Sculpture/ in No. 200, was written by 
 James Scott, D.D. Forty-one papers were written by persons 
 whose names were either unknown to the publisher, or who desired 
 to remain anonymous. 
 
 The ' World ' has been frequently reprinted, and -vill probably 
 always remain a favourite, for its materials, although sustained by 
 the most whimsical raillery, are not of a perishable kind. The 
 manners of fashionable life are not so mutable in their principles as 
 is commonly supposed, and those who practise them may at least 
 boast that they have stronger stamina than to yield to the attacks 
 of wit or morals. 
 
 No. 7. The ' World.'— Feb. 15, i753- 
 
 ' Whoever is a frequenter of public assemblies, or joins in a 
 party of cards in private families, will give evidence to the truth of 
 this complaint. 
 
 ' How common is it with some people, at the conclusion of 
 every unsuccessful hand of cards, to burst forth into sallies of 
 fretful complaints of their own amazing ill-fortune and the con- 
 stant and invariable success of their antagonists ! They have such 
 excellent memories as to be able to recount every game they have 
 lost for six months successively, and yet are so extremely forgetful 
 at the same time as not to recollect a single game they have won. 
 Or if you put them in mind of any extraordinary success that you 
 have been witness to, they acknowledge it with reluctance, and 
 assure you, upon their honours, that in a whole twelvemonth's 
 play they never rose winners but that once. 
 
324 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ' But if these growlers (a name which I shall always call men 
 of this class by) would only content themselves with giving re- 
 peated histories of their ill-fortunes, without 
 making invidious remarks on the success of 
 others, the evil would not be so great. 
 
 ' Indeed, I am apt to impute it to their 
 fears, that they stop short of the grossest 
 affronts ; for I have seen in their faces such, 
 rancour and inveteracy, that nothing but a 
 lively apprehension of consequences could 
 have restrained their tongues. 
 
 ' Happy would it be for the ladies if they 
 had the consequences to apprehend ; for, I 
 am sorry to say it, I have met with female, I 
 will not say growlers, the word is too harsh 
 for them; let me call them fretiers, who with 
 the prettiest faces and the liveliest wit ima- 
 ginable, have condescended to be the jest and the disturbance of 
 the whole company.' 
 
 No. 
 
 The 'World.' — May 3, 1753. 
 
 A worthy gentleman, who is suffering from the consequences 
 of treating his wife and daughter to a visit to Paris, is describing, 
 in a letter to Mr. FitzAdam, the follies into which the ladies of 
 his party were betrayed ' in order to fit themselves out to appear, 
 as the French say, honnetement? 
 
 1 In about three days,' writes the victim of these vagaries of 
 fashion, ' the several mechanics, who were charged with the care 
 of disguising my wife and daughter, brought home their respective 
 parts of the transformation. More than the whole morning was 
 employed in this operation, for we did not sit down to dinner till 
 near five o'clock. When my wife and daughter came at last into 
 the eating-room, where I had waited for them at least two hours, I 
 was so struck with their transformation that I could neither con- 
 ceal nor express my astonishment. " Now, my dear," said my 
 wife, "we can appear a little like Christians." "And strollers 
 too," replied I ; " for such have I seen at Southwark Fair. This 
 cannot surely be serious !" "Very serious, depend upon it, my 
 
the < world: 
 
 325 
 
 dear," said my wife ; " and pray, by the way, what may there be 
 ridiculous in it ? " 
 
 ' Addressing myself to my wife and daughter, I told them I 
 perceived that there was a painter now in Paris who coloured 
 much higher than Rigault, though he did not paint near so like; 
 for that I could hardly have guessed them to be the pictures of 
 themselves. To this they both answered at once, that red was 
 not paint ; that no colour in the world was fard but white, of 
 which they protested they had none. 
 
 '"But how do you like my pompon, papa?" continued my 
 daughter ; " is it not a charming one? I think it is prettier than 
 mamma's." " It may be, child, for anything that 
 I know ; because I do not know what part of all 
 this frippery thy pompon is." " It is this, papa," 
 replied the girl, putting up her hand to her head, 
 and showing me in the middle of her hair a com- 
 plication of shreds and rags of velvets, feathers, 
 and ribands, stuck with false stones of a thou- 
 sand colours, and placed awry. 
 
 ' " But what hast thou done to thy hair, 
 child, and why is it blue ? Is that painted, too, 
 by the same eminent hand that coloured thy 
 cheeks ? " " Indeed, papa," answered the girl, 
 " as I told you before, there is no painting in 
 the case; but what gives my hair that bluish 
 cast is the grey powder, which has always that 
 effect on dark-coloured hair, and sets off the com- 
 plexion wonderfully." " Grey powder, child ! " 
 said I, with some surprise ; " grey hairs I knew 
 were venerable; but till this moment I never 
 knew they were genteel." " Extremely so, with some com- 
 plexions," said my wife ; " but it does not suit with mine, and I 
 never use it." " You are much in the right, my dear," replied I, 
 " not to play with edge-tools. Leave it to the girl." This, which 
 perhaps was too hastily said, was not kindly taken ; my wife was 
 silent all dinner-time, and I vainly hoped ashamed. My daughter, 
 intoxicated with her dress, kept up the conversation with herself, till 
 the long-wished-for moment of the opera came, which separated 
 us, and left me time to reflect upon the extravagances which I had 
 
326 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 already seen, and upon the still greater which I had but too much 
 reason to dread.' 
 
 No. 21. The 'World.' — May 24, 1753. 
 
 I am not so partial to the ladies, particularly the unmarried 
 ones, as to imagine them without fault; on the contrary, I am 
 going to accuse them of a very great one, which, if not put a stop 
 to before the warm weather comes in, no mortal can tell to what 
 lengths it may be carried. You have already hinted at this fault 
 in the sex, under the genteel appellation of moulting their dress. 
 If necks, shoulders, &c, have begun to shed their covering in 
 winter, what a general display of nature are we to expect this sum- 
 mer, when the excuse of heat may be alleged in favour of such a 
 display ! I called some time ago upon a friend of mine near St. 
 James's, who, upon my asking where his sister was, told me, " At 
 her toilette, undressing for the ridetto." That the expression may 
 be intelligible to every one of your readers, I beg leave to inform 
 
 them that it is the fashion for a lady to undress herself to go abroad, 
 and to dress only when she stays at home and sees no company. 
 
 ' It may be urged, perhaps, that the nakedness in fashion is 
 intended only to be emblematical of the innocence of the present 
 generation of young ladies ; as we read of our first mother before 
 the fall, that she was naked and not. as/tamed ; but I cannot help 
 thinking that her daughters of these times should convince us that 
 they are entirely free from original sin, or else be ashamed of their 
 nakedness. 
 
THE < WORLD: 327 
 
 * I would ask any pretty miss about town, if she ever went a 
 second time to see the wax-work, or the lions, or even the dogs or 
 the monkeys, with the same delight as at first ? Certain it is that 
 the finest show in the world excites but little curiosity in those 
 who have seen it before. " That was a very fine picture," says 
 my lord, " but I had seen it before" " 'Twas a sweet song," says 
 my lady, " but I had heard it before? " A very fine poem," says 
 the critic, " but I had read it before? Let every lady, therefore, 
 take care, that while she is displaying in public a bosom whiter 
 than snow, the men do not look as if they were saying, " Tis very 
 pretty, but we have seen it before? ' 
 
 No. 23. The * World.' — June 7, 1753. 
 
 ' A recent visit to Bedlam revived an opinion I have often 
 entertained, that the maddest people in the kingdom are not in but 
 out of Bedlam. I have frequently compared in my own mind the 
 actions of certain persons whom we daily meet with in the world 
 with those of Bedlam, who, properly speaking, may be said to be 
 out of it; and I know of no difference between them, than that 
 the former are mad with their reason about them, and the latter so 
 from the misfortune of having lost it. But what is extraordinary 
 in this age, when, to its honour be it spoken, charity is become 
 fashionable, these unhappy wretches are suffered to run loose 
 about the town, raising riots in public assemblies, beating con- 
 stables, breaking lamps, damning parsons, affronting modesty, 
 disturbing families, and destroying their own fortunes and consti- 
 tutions ; and all this without any provision being made for them, 
 or the least attempt being made to cure them of this madness in 
 their blood. 
 
 ' The miserable objects I am speaking of are divided into two 
 classes: the Men of Spirit about town, and the Bucks. The Men 
 of Spirit have some glimmerings of understanding, the Bucks 
 none; the former are demoniacs, or people possessed; the latter 
 are uniformly and incurably mad. For the reception and confine- 
 ment of both these classes, I would humbly propose that two very 
 spacious buildings should be erected, the one called the hospital 
 for the Men of Spirit or demoniacs, and the other the hospital for 
 the Bucks or incurables. 
 
328 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 'That after such hospitals are built, proper officers appointed, 
 and doctors, surgeons, apothecaries, and mad nurses provided, all 
 young noblemen and others within the bills of mortality having 
 common sense, who shall be found offending against the rules 
 of decency, shall immediately be conducted to the hospital for 
 demoniacs, there to be exorcised, physicked, and disciplined into a 
 proper use of their senses ; and that full liberty be granted to all 
 persons whatsoever to visit, laugh at, and make 
 sport of these demoniacs, without let or molest- 
 ation from any of the keepers, according to the 
 present custom of Bedlam. To the Buck hos- 
 pital for incurables, I would have all such persons 
 conveyed that are mad through folly, ignorance, 
 or conceit ; therefore to be shut up for life, not 
 only to be prevented from doing mischief, but 
 from exposing in their own persons the weak- 
 nesses and miseries of mankind. The incurables 
 on no pretence whatsoever are to be visited or 
 ridiculed ; as it would be altogether as inhuman 
 to insult the unhappy wretches who never were possessed of their 
 senses, as to make a jest of those who have unfortunately lost 
 them.' 
 
 No. 34. The 'World.' — Aug. 23, 1753. 
 
 ' I am well aware that there are certain of my readers who have 
 no belief in witches ; but I am willing to hope they are only 
 those who either have not read, or else have forgot, the proceed- 
 ings against them published at large in the state trials. If there 
 is any man alive who can deny his assent to the positive and cir- 
 cumstantial evidence given against 
 them in these trials, I shall only 
 say that I pity most sincerely the 
 hardness of his heart. 
 
 ' What is it but witchcraft that 
 occasions that universal and un- 
 controllable rage for play, by 
 which the nobleman, the man of 
 fashion, the merchant and the tradesman, with their wives, sons, 
 and daughters, are running headlong to ruin? What is it but 
 
THE < WORLD: 329 
 
 witchcraft that conjures up that spirit of pride and passion for ex- 
 pense by which all classes of men, from his grace at Westminster to 
 the salesman at Wapping, are entailing beggary upon their old age, 
 and bequeathing their children to poverty and to the parish? I 
 shall conclude by signifying my intention, one day or other, oi 
 hiring a porter and sending him with a hammer and nails, and a 
 large quantity of horse-shoes, to certain houses in the purlieus of 
 St James's. I believe it may not be amiss (as a charm against 
 play) if he had orders to fix a whole dozen of these horse-shoes 
 at the door of Whites.' 
 
 No. 37. The 'World.' — Sept. 13, 1753. 
 
 On Toad-eating. 
 
 ' To Mr. FitzAdam. 
 
 'Sir, — I am the widow of a merchant with whom I lived 
 happily and in affluence for many years. We had no children, 
 and when he died he left me all he had ; but his affairs were so 
 involved that the balance which I received, after having gone 
 through much expense and trouble, was no more than one thou- 
 sand pounds. This sum I placed in the hands of a friend of my 
 husband's, who was reckoned a good man in the City, and who 
 allowed me an interest of four per cent, for my capital ; and with 
 this forty pounds a year I retired and boarded in a village about a 
 hundred miles from London. 
 
 ' There was a lady, an old lady, of great fortune in that neigh- 
 bourhood, who visited often at the house where I lodged; she 
 pretended, after a short acquaintance, to take a great liking to me; 
 she professed friendship for me, and at length persuaded me to 
 come and live with her. 
 
 ' One day, when her ladyship had treated me with uncommon 
 kindness for my having taken her part in a dispute with one of her 
 relations, I received a letter from London, to inform me that the 
 person in whose hands I had placed my fortune, and who till that 
 time had paid my interest money very exactly, was broke, and had 
 left the kingdom. 
 
 ' I handed the letter to her ladyship, who immediately read it 
 over with more attention than emotion. 
 
 1 Whenever Lady Mary spoke to me she had hitherto called 
 
33o 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 me Mrs. Truman ; but the very next morning at breakfast she left 
 out Mrs.; and upon no greater provocation than breaking a tea- 
 cup, she made me thoroughly sensible of her superiority and my 
 dependence. " Lord, Truman ! you are so awkward ; pray be 
 more careful for the future, or we shall not live long together. Do 
 you think I can afford to have my china broken at this rate, and 
 maintain you into the bargain ? " 
 
 ' From this moment I was obliged to drop the name and 
 character of friend, which I had hitherto maintained with a little 
 dignity, and to take up with that which 
 the French call complaisa?ite, and the 
 English humble companion. But it did 
 not stop here ; for in a week I was re- 
 duced to be as miserable a toad-eater 
 as any in Great Britain, which in the 
 strictest sense of the word is a servant ; 
 except that the toad-eater has the 
 honour of dining with my lady, and the misfortune of receiving 
 no wages/ 
 
 No. 46. The 'World.'— Nov. 15, 1753. 
 
 ' A correspondent who is piqued at not being recognised by the 
 great people to whom he has been but recently presented, is very 
 
 unreasonable, for he cannot but have 
 observed at the playhouses and other 
 public places, from the number of 
 glasses used by people of fashion, 
 that they are naturally short-sighted. 
 ' It is from this visual defect that 
 a great man is apt to mistake fortune 
 for honour, a service of plate for a 
 good name, and his neighbour's wife for his own.' 
 
 No. 47. The 'World.' — Nov. 22, 1753. 
 
 ' To Mr. FitzAdam. 
 
 'Sir, — Dim-sighted as I am, my spectacles have assisted me 
 sufficiently to read your papers. As a recompense for the pleasure 
 I have received from them, I send you a family anecdote, which 
 
THE < WORLD: 33i 
 
 till now has never appeared in print. I am the grand-daughter of 
 Sir Josiah Pumpkin, of Pumpkin Hall, in South Wales. I was 
 educated at the hall-house of my own ancestors, under the care 
 and tuition of my honoured grandfather. It was the constant 
 custom of my grandfather, when he was tolerably free from the 
 gout, to summon his three grand-daughters to his bedside, and 
 amuse us with the most important transactions of his life. He 
 told us he hoped we would have children, to whom some of his 
 adventures might prove useful and instructive. 
 
 ' Sir Josiah was scarce nineteen years old when he was intro- 
 duced at the Court of Charles the Second, by his uncle Sir Simon 
 Sparrowgrass, who was at that time Lancaster herald-at-arms, and 
 in great favour at Whitehall. 
 
 ' As soon as he had kissed the King's hand, he was presented 
 to the Duke of York, and immediately afterwards to the ministers 
 and the mistresses. His fortune, which was considerable, and his 
 manners, which were elegant, made him so very acceptable in all 
 companies, that he had the honour to be plunged at once into 
 every polite party of wit, pleasure, and expense, that the courtiers 
 could possibly display. He danced with the ladies, he drank with 
 the gentlemen, he sang loyal catches, and broke bottles and 
 glasses in every tavern thoughout London. But still he was by no 
 means a perfect fine gentleman. He had not fought a duel. He 
 was so extremely unfortunate as never to have had even the hap- 
 piness of a rencontre. The want of opportunity, not of courage, 
 had occasioned this inglorious chasm in his character. He ap- 
 peared, not only to the whole court, but even in his own eye, an 
 unworthy and degenerate Pumpkin, till he had shown himself as 
 expert in opening a vein with a sword as any surgeon in England 
 could be with a lancet. Things remained in this unhappy situa- 
 tion till he was near two- and- twenty years of age. 
 
 ' At length his better stars prevailed, and he received a most 
 egregious affront from Mr. Cucumber, one of the gentlemen-ushers 
 of the privy-chamber. Cucumber, who was in waiting at court, 
 spit inadvertently into the chimney, and as he stood next to Sir 
 Josiah Pumpkin, part of the spittle rested upon Sir Josiah's shoe. 
 It was then that the true Pumpkin honour arose in blushes upon 
 his cheeks. He turned upon his heel, went home immediately, 
 and sent Mr. Cucumber a challenge. Captain Daisy, a friend to 
 
332 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 each party, not only carried the challenge, but adjusted prelimi- 
 naries. The heroes were to fight in Moorfields, and to bring 
 fifteen seconds on a side. Punctuality is a strong instance of 
 valour upon these occasions ; the clock of St. Paul's struck seven 
 
 just when the combatants were marking out their ground, and 
 each of the two-and-thirty gentlemen was adjusting himself into 
 a posture of defence against his adversary. It happened to be the 
 hour for breakfast in the hospital of Bedlam. A small bell had 
 rung to summon the Bedlamites into the great gallery. The 
 keepers had already unlocked the cells, and were bringing forth 
 their mad folks, when the porter of Bedlam, Owen Macduffy, 
 standing at the iron gate, and beholding such a number of armed 
 men in the fields, immediately roared out, " Fire, murder, swords, 
 daggers, bloodshed ! " Owen's voice was always remarkably loud, 
 but his fears had rendered it still louder and more tremendous. 
 His words struck a panic into the keepers ; they lost all presence 
 of mind, they forgot their prisoners, and hastened most precipitately 
 down stairs to the scene of action. At the sight of the naked 
 swords their fears increased, and at once they stood open-mouthed 
 and motionless. Not so the lunatics ; freedom to madmen and 
 light to the blind are equally rapturous. Ralph Rogers, the tinker, 
 began the alarm. His brains had been turned with joy at the 
 Restoration, and the poor wretch imagined that this glorious set 
 of combatants were Roundheads and Fanatics, and accordingly 
 he cried out, " Liberty and property, my boys ! Down with the 
 Rump ! Cromwell and Ireton are come from hell to destroy us. 
 Come, my Cavalier lads, follow me, and let us knock out their 
 drains." The Bedlamites immediately obeyed, and, with the tinker 
 at their head, leaped over the balusters of the staircase, and ran 
 wildly into the fields. In their way they picked up some staves 
 
THE ' world: 
 
 333 
 
 and cudgels, which the porters and the keepers had inadvertently 
 left behind, and, rushing forward with amazing fury, they forced 
 themselves outrageously into the midst of the combatants, and 
 in one unlucky moment disturbed all the de- R F D I A IVl 
 
 cency and order with which this most illustrious LR U In I [ 
 
 duel had begun. 
 
 'It seemed, according to my grandfather's 
 observation, a very untoward fate that two-and- 
 thirty gentlemen of courage, honour, fortune, 
 and quality should meet together in hopes of 
 killing each other with all that resolution and 
 politeness which belonged to their stations, and 
 should at once be routed, dispersed, and even 
 wounded by a set of madmen, without sword, 
 pistol, or any other more honourable weapon 
 than a cudgel. 
 
 'The madmen were not only superior m 
 strength, but numbers. Sir Josiah Pumpkin and 
 Mr. Cucumber stood their ground as long as 
 possible, and they both endeavoured to make 
 the lunatics the sole object of their mutual 
 revenge; but the two friends were soon over- 
 powered, and, no person daring to come to their 
 assistance, each of them made as proper a re- 
 treat as the place and circumstances would 
 admit, 
 
 ' Many other gentlemen were knocked down 
 and trampled under foot. Some of them, whom 
 my grandfather's generosity would never name, 
 betook themselves to flight in a most inglorious 
 
334 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 manner. An earl's son was spied clinging submissively round the 
 feet of mad Pocklington, the tailor. A young baronet, although 
 
 naturally intrepid, was obliged to 
 conceal himself at the bottom of 
 Pippin Kate's apple-stall. A 
 ^^ A> /%jf^ Shropshire squire, of three thou- 
 
 sand pounds a year, was dis- 
 covered, chin deep and almost 
 stifled, in Fleet Ditch. Even 
 Captain Daisy himself was found 
 in a milk-cellar, with visible marks 
 of fear and consternation. Thus 
 ended this inauspicious day. But the madmen continued their 
 outrages many days after. It was near a week before they were 
 all retaken and chained to their cells, and during that interval of 
 liberty they committed many offensive pranks throughout the cities 
 •of London and Westminster. 
 
 'Such unforeseen disasters occasioned some prudent regula- 
 tions in the laws of honour. It was enacted from that time that 
 six combatants (three on a side) might be allowed and acknow- 
 ledged to contain such a quantity of blood in their veins as should 
 be sufficient to satisfy the highest affront that could be offered.' 
 
 No. 64. The 'World.' — March 21, 1754. 
 
 One of Mr. Fitz Adam's correspondents is describing a morn- 
 ing he spent in the library of Lord Finican, with which nobleman 
 he was invited to breakfast : — 
 
 ' I now fell to the books with a good appetite, intending to 
 make a full meal ; and while I was chewing upon a piece of 
 Tully's philosophical writings, my lord came in upon me. His 
 looks discovered great uneasiness, which I attributed to the 
 effects of the last night's diversions ; but good manners requiring 
 me to prefer his lordship's conversation to my own amusement, 
 I replaced his book, and by the sudden satisfaction in his coun- 
 tenance perceived that the cause of his perturbation was my hold- 
 ing open the book with a pinch of snuff in my fingers. He said 
 he was glad to see me, for he should not have known else what to 
 have done with himself. I returned the compliment by saying I 
 
THE ' world: 
 
 335 
 
 n 
 
 
 thought he could not want entertainment amidst so choice a 
 collection of books. " Yes," replied he, " the collection is not 
 without elegance ; but I read men only now, for I finished my 
 studies when I set out on my travels. You 
 are not the first who has admired my library; 
 and I am allowed to have as fine a taste in books 
 ,^ Y as any man in England." 
 
 ' Hereupon he showed me a " Pastor Fido," 
 bound in green and decorated with myrtle- 
 leaves. He then took down a volume of Tillot- 
 son, in a black binding, with the leaves as white 
 as a law-book, and gilt on the back with little 
 mitres and crosiers ; and lastly, Caesar's " Con> 
 
 ft) -iSffl -g^M 
 
 mentaries," clothed in red and gold, in imitation of the military 
 uniform of English officers.' 
 
 The literary gentleman finally elicits that his lordship's books 
 are simply selected for fashion and show, and that they are never 
 read, Lord Finican having long given up the study of books, and 
 merely collecting a library to establish the excellence of his taste. 
 
 No. 68. The ' World.'— April 18, 1754. 
 
 Mr. FitzAdam prints a letter received from a widow, describ- 
 ing the real facts of the injuries by which her husband had lost his 
 life in a duel : — 
 
 'Mr. Muzzy was very fat and extremely lethargic, and so 
 stupidly heavy that he fell asleep even in musical assemblies, and 
 snored in the playhouse, as loud, poor man ! as he used to snore 
 in bed. However, having received many taunts and reproaches, 
 he resolved to challenge his own cousin-german, Brigadier 
 Truncheon, of Soho Square. It seems the person challenged 
 
336 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 fixed upon the place and weapons. Truncheon, a deep-sighted 
 man, chose Primrose Hill for the field of battle, and swords for 
 the weapons of defence. To avoid suspicion and to prevent a 
 discovery, they were to walk together from Piccadilly, where we 
 then lived, to the summit of Primrose Hill. Truncheon's scheme 
 took effect. Mr. Muzzy was much fatigued and out of breath 
 with the walk. However, he drew his sword ; and, as he assured 
 me himself, began to attack his cousin with valour. The brigadier 
 went back ; Mr. Muzzy pursued ; but not having his adversary's 
 alacrity, he stopped a little to take breath. He stopped, alas ! 
 too long: his lethargy came on with more than usual violence ; he 
 first dozed as he stood upon his legs, and then beginning to nod 
 forward, dropped by degrees upon his face in a most profound 
 sleep. 
 
 ' Truncheon, base man ! took this opportunity to wound my 
 husband as he lay snoring on the ground ; and he had the cun- 
 ning to direct his stab in such a manner as to make it supposed 
 that Mr. Muzzy had fled, and in his flight had received a wound 
 
 in the most ignominious part of his body. You will ask what 
 became of the seconds. They were both killed upon the spot ; 
 but being only two servants, the one a butler and the other a 
 cook, they were buried the same night ; and by the power of a 
 little money, properly applied, no further inquiry was made about 
 them. 
 
 ' Mr. Muzzy, wounded as he was, might probably have slept 
 upon that spot for many hours, had he not been awakened by the 
 cruel bites of a mastiff. My poor husband was thoroughly 
 awakened by the new hurt he had received ; and indeed it was 
 impossible to have slept while he was losing whole collops of the 
 fattest and most pulpy part of his flesh : so that he was brought 
 home to me much more wounded by the teeth of the mastiff than 
 
THE 'WORLD: 
 
 337 
 
 by the sword of his cousin Truncheon/ The wound eventually 
 mortified, Mr. Muzzy lost his life, and the writer became a 
 widow. 
 
 No. 82. The 'World.'—; July 25, 1754. 
 'The Tears of Old May-day. 
 
 ' Led by the jocund train of vernal hours, 
 
 And vernal airs, up rose the gentle May, 
 Blushing she rose and blushing rose the flowers 
 
 That spring spontaneous in her genial ray. 
 
 ' Her locks with Heaven's ambrosial dews were bright, 
 
 And am'rous Zephyrs flutter'd on her breast; 
 With ev'ry shifting gleam of morning light 
 
 The colours shifted of her rainbow vest. 
 
 4 Imperial ensigns graced her smiling form, 
 
 A golden key and golden wand she bore ; 
 This charms to peace each sullen eastern storm, 
 
 And that unlocks the summer's copious store. 
 
 4 Vain hope, no more in choral bands unite 
 
 Her virgin vot'ries, and at early dawn, 
 Sacred to May and Love's mysterious rite, 
 
 Brush the light dewdrops * from the spangled lawn. 
 
 1 To her no more Augusta's f wealthy pride 
 
 Pours the full tribute of Potosi's mine ; 
 Nor fresh-blown garlands village maids provide, 
 
 A purer off 'ring at her rustic shrine. 
 
 ' No more the May-pole's verdant height around, 
 To valour's games th' adventurous youth advance ; 
 
 To merry bells and tabor's sprightlier sound 
 Wake the loud carol and the sportive dance. ' 
 
 *I have hinted more than once that the present age (1754), 
 notwithstanding the vices and follies with which it abounds, has 
 the happiness of standing as high in my opinion as any age what- 
 soever. But it has always been the fashion to believe that from 
 the beginning of the world to the present day men have been 
 increasing in wickedness. 
 
 * Alluding to the country custom of gathering May-dew. 
 f The plate garlands of London. 
 
338 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 I believe that all vices will be found to exist amongst us 
 much in the same degree as heretofore, forms only changing. 
 
 ' Our grandfathers used to get drunk with strong beer and port ; 
 we get drunk with claret and champagne. They would lie abomi- 
 nably to conceal their peccadil- 
 loes; we lie as abominably in 
 boasting of ours. They stole 
 slily in at the back-door of a 
 bagnio ; we march in boldly at 
 the front-door, and immediately 
 steal out slily at the back-door. 
 Our mothers were prudes; their 
 daughters coquettes. The first 
 dressed like modest women, and perhaps were wantons ; the last 
 dress like women of pleasure, and perhaps are virtuous. Those 
 treated without hanging out a sign ; these hang out a sign without 
 intending to treat. To be still more particular : the abuse of 
 power, the views of patriots, the flattery of dependents, and the 
 promises of great men are, I believe, pretty much the same now 
 as in former ages. Vices that we have no relish for, we part with 
 for those we like ; giving up avarice for prodigality, hypocrisy 
 for profligacy, and looseness for play.' 
 
 No. 86. The 'World.' — Aug. 22, 1754. 
 
 A. correspondent, after summing up the lessons he daily ex- 
 tracts from trees, flowers, insects, and the inmates of his garden, 
 continues : — 
 
 1 In short, there is such a close affinity 
 between a proper cultivation of a flower- 
 garden and a right discipline of the mind 
 that it is almost impossible for any thoughtful 
 
THE 'WORLD: 339 
 
 person, that has made any proficiency in the one, to avoid paying 
 a due attention to the other. That industry and care which are 
 so requisite to cleanse a garden from all sorts of weeds will natu- 
 rally suggest to him how much more expedient it would be to 
 exert the same diligence in eradicating all sorts of prejudices, 
 follies, and vices from the mind, where they will be sure to pre- 
 vail, without a great deal of care and correction, as common weeds 
 in a neglected piece of ground. 
 
 1 And as it require s more pains to extirpate some weeds than 
 others, according as they are more firmly fixed, more numerous, or 
 more naturalised to the soil ; so those faults will be found to be 
 most difficult to be suppressed which have been of the largest 
 growth and taken the deepest root, which are more predominant 
 in number and most congenial to the constitution.' 
 
 No. 92. The 'World.' — Oct. 3, 1754. 
 
 Mr. FitzAdam, defining the characters of Siphons and Soakers, 
 points to a theory that dropsy, of which so many of their order 
 perish, is a manifest judgment upon them, the wine they so much 
 loved being turned into water, and themselves drowned at last in 
 the element they so much abhorred. 
 
 ' A rational and sober man, invited by the wit and gaiety of 
 good company, and hurried away by an uncommon flow of spirits 
 may happen to drink 
 too much, and perhaps j^g£^:j 
 
 accidentally to getdnmk ; 
 but then these sallies will 
 be short and not fre- 
 quent. Whereas the 
 soaker is an utter stranger to wit and mirth, and no friend to 
 either. His business is serious, and he applies himself seriously 
 to it ; he steadily pursues the numbing, stupefying, and petrifying, 
 not the animating and exhilarating qualities of the wine. The 
 more he drinks, the duller he grows ; his politics become more 
 obscure, and his narratives more tedious and less intelligible ; till, 
 at last maudlin, he employs what little articulation he has left in 
 relating his doleful state to an insensible audience. 
 
 ' I am well aware that the numerous society of siphons (as I 
 
 Z2 
 
34o 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 shall for the future typify the soakers, suction being equally the 
 only business of both) will say, like Sir Tunbelly, " What would 
 this fellow have us do?" To which I am at no loss for an 
 answer : " Do anything else." ' 
 
 No. ioo. The < World.'— Nov. 28, 1754. 
 
 'I heard the other day with great pleasure from my friend, 
 Mr. Dodsley, that Mr. Johnson's "English Dictionary," with a 
 grammar and history of our language, will be published this winter, 
 in two large volumes in folio. 
 
 ' Many people have imagined that so extensive a work would 
 have been best performed by a number of persons, who should 
 have taken their several departments of exa- 
 mining, fitting, winnowing, purifying, and 
 finally fixing our language by incorporating 
 their respective funds into one joint stock. 
 
 ' But, whether this opinion be true or false, 
 I think the public in general, and the republic 
 of letters in particular, are greatly obliged 
 to Mr. Johnson for having undertaken and 
 executed so great and desirable a work. Per- 
 fection is not to be expected from man ; but 
 if we are to judge by the various works of 
 Mr. Johnson already published, we have good 
 reason to believe that he will bring this as 
 near to perfection as any one man could do. 
 The plan of it, which we published some years ago, seems to 
 me to be a proof of it. Nothing can be more rationally imagined 
 or more accurately and elegantly expressed. I therefore recom- 
 mend the previous perusal of it to all those who intend to buy the 
 dictionary, and who, I suppose, are all those who can afford it.' 
 
 No. 103. The 'World.'— Dec. 19, 1754. 
 
 Mr. FitzAdam relates an anecdote establishing the good breed- 
 ing of highwaymen of the upper class : — 
 
 ' An acquaintance of mine was robbed a few years ago, and 
 
THE 'WORLD. 
 
 341 
 
 very near shot through the head by the going off of a pistol of the 
 accomplished Mr. M'Lean, yet the whole affair was conducted 
 with the greatest good breeding on both 
 sides. The robber, who had only taken 
 a purse this way because he had that 
 morning been disappointed of marrying 
 a great fortune, no sooner returned to 
 his lodgings than he sent the gentle- 
 man two letters of excuses, which, with 
 less wit than the epistles of Voltaire, 
 had infinitely more natural and easy politeness in the turn of their 
 expressions. In the postscript he appointed a meeting at Tyburn, 
 at twelve at night, where the gentleman might purchase again any 
 trifles he had lost ; and my friend has been blamed for not accept- 
 ing the rendezvous, as it seemed liable to be construed by ill- 
 natured people into a doubt of the hoiiour of a man who had given 
 him all the satisfaction in his power for having unluckily been near 
 shooting him through the head.' 
 
 No. 112. The 'World.' — Feb. 20, 1755. 
 
 ' My cobbler is also a politician. He reads the first news- 
 papers he can get, desirous to be informed of the state of affairs in 
 
 Europe, and of the street 
 robberies of London. He 
 has not, I presume, analysed 
 the interests of the respec- 
 tive countries of Europe, nor 
 deeply considered those of 
 his own; still less is he systematically informed of the political 
 duties of a citizen and subject. But his heart and his habits 
 supply these defects. He glows with zeal for the honour and 
 prosperity of old England ; he will fight for it if there be an occa- 
 sion, and drink to it perhaps a little too often and too much. 
 However, is it not to be wished that there were in this country six 
 millions of such honest and zealous, though uninformed, citizens ? 
 ' Our honest cobbler is thoroughly convinced, as his forefathers 
 were for many centuries, that one Englishman can beat three 
 Frenchmen; and in that persuasion he would by no means 
 
342 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 decline the trial. Now, though in my own private opinion, 
 deduced from physical principles, I am apt to believe that one 
 Englishman could beat no more than two Frenchmen of equal 
 size with himself, I should, however, be unwilling to undeceive 
 him of that useful and sanguine error, which certainly made his 
 countrymen triumph in the fields of Poictiers and Crecy.' 
 
 No. 122. The 'World.' — May i, 1755. 
 
 1 As I was musing one morning, in a most disconsolate mood, 
 with my leg in my landlady's lap, while she darned one of my 
 
 stockings, it came into my head to collect from various books, 
 together with my own experience and observations, plain and 
 wholesome- rules on the subject of diet, and then publish them in 
 a neat pocket volume ; for I was always well inclined to do good 
 to the world, however ungratefully it used me. I doubt, Mr. 
 FitzAdam, you will hardly forbear smiling to hear a man who was 
 almost starved talk gravely of compiling observations on diet. 
 The moment I finished my volume I ran to an eminent bookseller 
 near the Mansion House ; he was just set down to dinner. . . . 
 As soon as the cloth was taken away I produced my manuscript, 
 and the bookseller put on his spectacles ; but to my no small 
 mortification, after glancing an eye over the title-page, he looked 
 steadfastly upon me for near a minute in a kind of amazement I 
 could not account for, and then broke out in the following manner: 
 — " My dear sir, you are come to the very worst place in the world 
 for the sale of such a pcrforma?ice as this — to think of expecting 
 the Court of Aldermen's permission to preach upon the subject of 
 lean and fallow abstinence between the Royal Exchange and 
 Temple Bar!"' 
 
THE 'WORLD.' 
 
 343 
 
 No. 130. The * World.' — J 'tine 26, 1755. 
 
 Extracts from a letter written by ' Priscilla Cross-stitch,' for 
 herself and sisters, on the subject of the indelicacy of nankin 
 breeches, as indulged in by Patrick, their footman :— 
 
 ' We give him no livery, but allow him a handsome sum yearly 
 for clothes ; and, to say the truth, till within the last week he has 
 
 dressed with great propriety and decency, when all at once, to our 
 great confusion and distress, he has the assurance to appear at 
 the sideboard in a pair of filthy nankin breeches, and those made 
 to fit so extremely tight, that a less curious observer might have 
 mistaken them for no breeches at all. The shame and confusion 
 so visible in all our faces one would think would suggest to him 
 the odiousness of his dress ; but the fellow appears to have thrown 
 off every appearance of decency, for at tea-table before company, 
 as well as at meals, we are forced to endure him in this abominable 
 nankin, our modesty conflicting with nature, to efface the idea it 
 conveys.' 
 
 The ladies cannot well discharge a good servant for this indis- 
 cretion; their delicacy will not allow them to mention the dreadful 
 word, nor venture on allusions to the objectionable part of the 
 apparel ; nor will they venture to entrust the task to their maids, 
 as it might draw them into puzzling explanations. The publication 
 of Priscilla's letter, with a warning to Patrick, and a general 
 decree against suggestive drapery, declaring it a capital offence, is 
 intended to relieve the ladies of their confusion. 
 
 No. 135. The 'World.'— July 31, 1755- 
 ' Hilarius is a downright country gentleman; a ban vivant; an 
 indefatigable sportsman. He can drink his gallon at a sitting, and 
 will tell you he was neither sick nor sorry in his life. Having 
 
344 
 
 TH ACKER A YANA. 
 
 an estate of above five thousand a year, his strong beer, ale, and 
 wine cellar are always well stored ; to either of which, as also to 
 his table, abounding in plenty of good victuals, ill-sorted and ill- 
 dressed, every voter and fox-hunter claims a kind of right. He 
 roars for the Church, which he never visits, and is eternally crack- 
 ing his coarse jests and talking obscenity to the parsons, whom if 
 he can make fuddled, and expose to contempt, it is the highest 
 pleasure he can enjoy. As for his lay friends, nothing is more 
 
 common with him than to set them and their servants dead drunk 
 on their horses ; and should any of them be found half smothered 
 in a ditch the next morning, it affords him excellent diversion for 
 a twelvemonth after. No one is readier to club a laugh with you, 
 but he has no ear to the voice of distress or complaint. Thus 
 Hilarius, on the false credit of generosity and good humour, swims 
 triumphantly with the stream of applause without one single virtue 
 in his composition.' 
 
 No. 142. The 'World.'— Sept. 18, 1755. 
 
 Extract from the letter of a lady, a lover of peace and quiet- 
 ness, on the sufferings produced by her connection with people 
 who are fond of noise. After describing the violence practised in 
 her own home, the writer continues : — 
 
 ' At last I was sent to board with a distant relation, who had 
 been captain of a man-of-war, who had given up his commission 
 and retired into the country. Unfortunately for poor me, the 
 captain still retained a passion for firing a great gun, and had 
 mounted, on a little fortification that was thrown up against the 
 front of his house, eleven nine-pounders, which were constantly 
 
THE 'WORLD: 
 
 345 
 
 discharged ten or a dozen times over on the arrival of visitors, and 
 on all holidays and rejoicings. The noise of these cannon was 
 more terrible to me than all the rest, and would have rendered my 
 continuance there intolerable, if a young gentleman, a relation of 
 the captain's, had not held me by the heart-strings, and softened 
 
 by the most tender courtship in the world the horrors of these 
 firings. ' 
 
 The unfortunate lady's married life was doomed, however, to 
 prove a union of noise and contention. 
 
 No. 150. The 'World.' — Nov. 13, 1755. 
 
 ' Among the ancient Romans the great offices of state were all 
 elective, which obliged them to be very observant of the shape of 
 the noses of those persons to whom they were to apply for votes. 
 Horace tells us that a sharp nose was an indication of satirical wit 
 and humour ; for when speaking of his friend Virgil, though he 
 says, " At est bonus, ut melior non alius quisquam," yet he allows 
 he was no joker, and not a fit match 
 at the sneer for those of his com- 
 panions who had sharper noses than 
 his own. They also looked upon 
 the short noses, with a little inflec- 
 tion at the end tending upwards, as 
 a mark of the owner's being addicted 
 to jibing; for the same author, talking of Maecenas, says that 
 though he was born of an ancient family, yet was he not apt to 
 turn persons of low birth into ridicule, which he expresses by say- 
 ing that " he had not a turn-up nose." Martial, in one of his 
 epigrams, calls this kind of nose the rhinocerotic nose, and says 
 that everyone in his time affected this kind of snout, as an indica- 
 tion of his being master of the talent of humour. 9 
 
346 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 No.—. The 'World.' — 1755. 
 
 1 You may have frequently observed upon the face of that useful 
 piece of machinery, a clock, the minute and hour hands, in their 
 revolution through the twelve 
 divisions of the day, to be not 
 only shifting continually from 
 one figure to another, but to 
 stand at times in a quite oppo- 
 site direction to their former 
 bearings, and to each other. 
 Now I conceive this to be 
 pretty much the case with that 
 complicated piece of mechanism, a modern female, or young woman 
 of fashion : for as such I was accustomed to consider that part of 
 the species as having no power to determine their own motions 
 and appearances, but acted upon by the mode, and set to any 
 point which the party who took the lead, or (to speak more pro- 
 perly) its regulator, pleased. But it has so happened in the cir- 
 cumrotation of modes and fashions, that the present set are not 
 only moving on continually from one pretty fancy 
 and conceit to another, but have departed quite 
 aside from their former principles, dividing from each 
 other in a circumstance wherein they were always 
 accustomed to unite, and uniting where there was 
 ever wont to be a distinction or difference. . . . 
 The pride now is to get as far away as possible, not only from the 
 vulgar, but from one another, and that, too, as well in the first 
 principles of dress as in its subordinate decorations ; so that its 
 fluctuating humour is perpetually showing itself in some new and 
 particular sort of cap, flounce, knot, or tippet ; and every woman 
 that you meet affects independency and to set up for herself.' 
 
 No. 153. The 'World.' — Dec. 4, 1755. 
 
 The writer describes a country assembly, highly perfumed with 
 ' the smell of the stable over which it was built, the savour of the 
 neighbouring kitchen, the fumes of tallow candles, rum punch, and 
 tobacco dispersed over the house, and the balsamic effluvia from 
 
THE 'WORLD: 
 
 347 
 
 many sweet creatures who were dancing/ Everyone * is pleased 
 and desirous of pleasing,' with the exception of some fashionable 
 young men blocking up the door — ' whose faces I remember to 
 have seen about town, who would neither dance, drink tea, play 
 at cards, nor speak to anyone, except now and then in whispers 
 to a young lady, who sat in silence at the upper end of the room, 
 in a hat and ne'glige'e, with her back against the wall, her arms 
 
 akimbo, her legs thrust out, a sneer on her lips, a scowl on her 
 forehead, and an invincible assurance in her eyes. Their behaviour 
 affronted most of the company, yet obtained the desired effect : 
 for I overheard several of the country ladies say, " It was a pity 
 they were so proud \ for to be sure they were prodigious well-bred 
 people, and had an immense deal of wit ; " a mistake they could 
 never have fallen into had these patterns of politeness conde- 
 scended to have entered into any conversation.' 
 
 No. 163. The 'World.' — Feb. 12, 1756. 
 
 ' ' There was an ancient sect of philosophers, the disciples of 
 Pythagoras, who held that the souls of men and all other animals 
 existed in a state of perpetual transmigration, and that when by 
 death they were dislodged from one corporeal habitation, they 
 were immediately reinstated in another, happier or more miserable 
 according to their behaviour in the former. This doctrine has 
 always appeared to me to present a theory of retributory compen- 
 sation which is very acceptable. 
 
 ' Thus the tyrant, who by his power has oppressed his country 
 in the situation of a prince, in that of a slave may be compelled to 
 do it some service by his labour. The highwayman, who has stopped 
 
348 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 and plundered travellers, may expiate and assist them in the shape 
 of a post-horse ; and mighty conquerors, who have laid waste the 
 world by their swords, may be obliged, by a small alteration in 
 sex and situation, to contribute to its re-peopling. 
 
 'For my own part, I verily believe this to be the case. I 
 make no doubt but Louis XIV. is now chained to an oar in the 
 galleys of France, and that Hernando Cortez is digging gold in the 
 mines of Peru or Mexico ; that Dick Turpin, the highwayman, is 
 several times a day spurred backwards and forwards between 
 London and Epping, and that Lord * * * * and Sir Harry * * * * 
 
 are now roasting for a city feast. I 
 question not but that Alexander the 
 Great and Julius Caesar have died 
 many times in child-bed since their 
 appearance in those illustrious and 
 depopulating characters ; that Charles 
 XII. is at this instant a curate's wife 
 in some remote village with a nu- 
 merous and increasing family; and that Kouli-Khan is now 
 whipped from parish to parish in the person of a big-bellied 
 beggar-woman, with two children in her arms and three at her 
 back.' 
 
 No. 164. The 'World.' — Feb. 19, 1756. 
 
 1 Mr. FitzAdam, — I am infested by a swarm of country cousins 
 that are come up to town for the winter, as they call it — a whole 
 family of them. They ferret me out from every place I go to, 
 and it is impossible to stand the ridicule of being seen in their 
 company. 
 
 ' At their first coming to town I was, in a manner, obliged to 
 gallant them to the play, where, having seated the mother with 
 much ado, I offered my hand to the eldest of my five young 
 cousins ; but as she was not dexterous enough to manage a great 
 hoop with one hand only, she refused my offer, and at the first 
 step fell along. It was with great difficulty I got her up again ; 
 but imagine, sir, my situation. I sat like a mope all the night, not 
 daring to look up for tear of catching the eyes of my acquaintance, 
 who would have laughed me out of countenance. 
 
THE 'WORLD: 349 
 
 * My friends see how I am mortified at all public places ; and it 
 is a standing jest with them, wherever they meet me, to put on the 
 appearance of the profoundest respect, and to ask, " Pray, sir, how 
 do your cousins do ? " This leads me to propose something for 
 
 the relief of all those whose country cousins, like mine, expect they 
 should introduce them into the world ; by which means we shall 
 avoid appearing in a very ridiculous light. I would therefore set 
 up a person who should be known by the name of Town Usher. 
 His business should be to attend closely all young ladies who were 
 never in town before, to teach them to walk into playhouses with- 
 out falling over the benches, to show them the tombs and the 
 lions, and the wax- work and the giant, and instruct them how to 
 wonder and shut their mouths at the same time, for I really meet 
 with so many gapers every day in the streets that I am continually 
 yawning all the way I walk/ 
 
 No. 169. The ' World.' — March 25, 1756. 
 
 ' " Wanted a Curate at Beccles, in Suffolk. Inquire farther of 
 Mr. Strut, Cambridge and Yarmouth carrier, who inns at the Crown, 
 the end of Jesus Lane, Cambridge. 
 
 ' " N.B. — To be spoken with from Friday noon to Saturday- 
 morning, nine o'clock." 
 
 'I have transcribed this from a newspaper, Mr. FitzAdam, 
 verbatim et literatim, and must confess I look upon it as a 
 curiosity. It would certainly be entertaining to hear the con- 
 versation between Mr. Strut, Cambridge and Yarmouth carrier, 
 and the curate who offers himself. Doubtless Mr. Strut has his 
 
35o 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 orders to inquire into the young candidate's qualifications, and to 
 make his report to the advertising rector before he agrees upon 
 terms with him. But what principally deserves our observation is 
 the propriety of referring us to a person who traffics constantly to 
 
 that great mart of young divines, Cambridge, where the advertiser 
 might expect numbers to flock to the person he employed. It is 
 pleasant, too, to observe the " N.B." at the end of the advertise- 
 ment ; it carries with it an air of significance enough to intimidate 
 a young divine who might possibly have been so bold as to have 
 put himself on an equal footing with this negotiator, if he had not 
 known that he was only to be spoken with at stated hours.' 
 
 No. 176. The 'World.'— -May 13, 1756. 
 
 ' Going to visit an old friend at his country seat last week, I 
 found him at backgammon with the vicar of the parish. My 
 friend received me with the heartiest welcome, and introduced the 
 
 doctor to my acquaintance. This gentleman, who seemed to be 
 about fifty, and of a florid and healthy constitution, surveyed me 
 
THE 'WORLD: 
 
 35i 
 
 all over with great attention, and, after a slight nod of the head, 
 sat himself down without opening his mouth. I was a little hurt 
 at the supercilious behaviour of this divine, which my friend 
 observing, told me very pleasantly that I was rather too old to be 
 entitled to the doctor's complaisance, for he seldom bestowed it 
 but upon the young and vigorous ; " but," says he, "you will know 
 him better soon, and may probably think it worth your while to 
 book him in the ' World,' for you will find him altogether as odd a 
 character as he is a worthy one." The doctor made no reply to 
 this raillery, but continued some time with his eye fixed upon me, 
 and at last shaking his head, and turning to my friend, asked if he 
 would play out the other hit. My friend excused himself from 
 engaging any more that evening, and ordered a bottle of wine, 
 with pipes and tobacco, to be set on the table. The vicar filled 
 his pipe, and drank very cordially to my friend, still eyeing me 
 with a seeming dislike, and neither drinking my health nor speak- 
 ing a single word to me. As I had long accustomed myself to 
 drink nothing but water, I called for a bottle of it, and drank glass 
 for glass with him ; which upon the doctor's observing, he shook 
 his head at my friend, and in a whisper, loud enough for me to 
 hear, said, " Poor man ! it is all over with him, I see." My friend 
 smiled, and answered, in the same audible whisper, " No, no, 
 doctor, Mr. FitzAdam intends to live as long as either of us." He 
 then addressed himself to me on the occurrences of the town, and 
 drew me into a very cheerful conversation, which lasted till I with- 
 drew to rest ; at which time the doctor rose from his chair, drank 
 a bumper to my health, and, giving me a hearty shake by the 
 hand, told me I was a very jolly old gentleman, and that he 
 wished to be better acquainted with me during my stay in the 
 country.' 
 
 No. 185. The ' World.'— July 15, 1756. 
 1 Mr. FitzAdam. 
 
 1 Sir, — My case is a little singular, and therefore I hope you 
 will let it appear in your paper. I should scarcely have attempted 
 to make such a request, had I not very strictly looked over all 
 the works of your predecessors, the " Tatlers," " Spectators," and 
 
352 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 " Guardians," without a possibility of finding a parallel to my 
 
 unhappy situation. 
 
 ' I am not henpecked; I am not grimalkined ; I have no Mrs. 
 
 Freeman, with her Italian airs ; but I have a wife more trouble- 
 some than all three by a certain ridiculous and 
 unnecessary devotion that she pays to her father, 
 amounting almost to idolatry. When I first 
 married her, from that specious kind of weak- 
 ness which meets with encouragement and ap- 
 plause only because it is called good-nature, I 
 permitted her to do whatever she pleased ; but 
 when I thought it requisite to pull in the rein, 
 I found that her having the bit in her teeth 
 
 rendered the strength of my curb of no manner of use to me. 
 
 Whenever I attempted to draw her in a little, she tossed up her 
 
 head, snorted, pranced, and gave herself such airs, that unless I 
 
 let her carry me where she pleased, my limbs if not my life were 
 
 in danger/ 
 
 No. 191. The ' World.' — Aug. 26, 1756. 
 
 'Ever since the tax upon dogs was first reported to be in 
 agitation, I have been under the greatest alarm for the safety of 
 the whole race. 
 
 * I thought it a little hard, indeed, that a man should be taxed 
 for having one creature in his house in which he might confide ; 
 
 but when I heard that officers were to be appointed to knock out 
 the brains of all these honest domestics who should presume to 
 make their appearance in the streets without the passport of their 
 master's name about their necks, I became seriously concerned 
 for them. 
 
THE 'WORLD. 
 
 353 
 
 ' This enmity against dogs is pretended upon the apprehension 
 of their going mad ; but an easier remedy might be applied, by 
 abolishing the custom (with many others equally ingenious) of 
 stringing bottles and stones to their tails, by which means (and 
 in this one particular I must give up my clients) the unfortunate 
 sufferer becomes subject to the persecutions of his own species, 
 too apt to join the run against a brother in distress. 
 
 ' But great allowance should be made for an animal who, in an 
 intimacy of nearly six thousand years with man, has learnt but one 
 of his bad qualities.' 
 
 No. 192. The ' World.' — Sept. 2, 1756. 
 
 'Mr. FitzAdam, — Walking up St. James's Street the other 
 day, I was stopt by a very smart young female, who begged my 
 pardon for her boldness, and, looking very innocently in my face, 
 asked me if I did not know her. The manner of her accosting 
 me and the extreme prettiness of her figure made me look at her 
 with attention ; and I soon recollected that she had been a 
 servant-girl of my wife's, who had taken her from the country, and, 
 
 after keeping her three years in her service, had dismissed her 
 about two months ago. " What, Nanny," said I, " is it you ? I 
 never saw anybody so fine in all my life !" " Oh, sir!" says she, 
 with the most innocent smile imaginable, bridling her head and 
 curtsying down to the ground, " I have been led astray since I 
 lived with my mistress." "Have you so, Mrs. Nanny?" said I; 
 "and pray, child, who is it that has led you astray?" "Oh, 
 
 A A 
 
354 
 
 THACKERAY ANA. 
 
 sir ! " says she, " one of the worthiest gentlemen in the world ; 
 and he has bought me a new ne'glige'e for every day in the week." 
 
 ' The girl pressed me to go and look at her lodgings, which 
 she assured me were hard by in Bury Street, and as fine as a 
 duchess's; but I declined her offer, knowing that any arguments 
 of mine in favour of virtue and stuff gowns would avail but little 
 against pleasure and silk ne'glige'es. I therefore contented myself 
 with expressing my concern for the way of life she had entered 
 into, and bade her farewell. 
 
 1 Being a man inclined to speculate a little, as often as I think 
 of the finery of this girl, and the reason alleged for it, I cannot 
 help fancying, whenever I fall in company with a pretty woman, 
 dressed out beyond her visible circumstances, patched, painted, 
 and ornamented to the extent of the mode, that she is going to 
 make me her best curtsy, and to tell me, " Oh, sir ! I have been 
 led astray since I kept good company.'" 
 
 No. 202. The ' World.'— Nov. ii, 1756. 
 
 ' The trumpet sounds ; to war the troops advance, 
 Adorn'd and trim, like females to the dance 
 Proud of the summons, to display his might, 
 The gay Lothario dresses for the fight ; 
 Studious in all the splendour to appear, 
 Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! 
 His well-turn'd limbs the diff 'rent garbs infold, 
 Form'd with nice art, and glitt'ring all with gold 
 Across his breast the silken sash is tied, 
 Behind the shoulder-knot displays its pride; 
 Glitt'ring with lace, the hat adorns his head, 
 Grac'd and distinguish'd by the smart cockade: 
 Conspicuous badge ! which only heroes wear, 
 Ensign of war and fav'rite of the fair. 
 The graceful queue his braided tresses binds, 
 And ev'ry hair in its just rank confines. 
 Each taper leg the snowy gaiters deck, 
 And the bright gorget dandles from his neck. 
 Dress'd cap-a-pie, all lovely to the sight, 
 Stands the gay warrior, and expects the fight 
 Rages the war; fell slaughter stalks around, 
 And stretches thousands breathless on the ground. 
 Down sinks Lothario, sent by one dire blow, 
 A well-dress'd hero, to the shades below. 
 
THE 'WORLD: 3 55 
 
 Thus the young victim, pamper'd and elate, 
 
 To some resplendent fane is led in state, 
 
 With garlands crown'd through shouting crowds proceeds, 
 
 And, dress'd in fatal pomp, magnificently bleeds.' 
 
 No. 209. The ' World.' — Dec. 30, 1756. 
 < The Last of Mr. FitzAdam. 
 
 1 Before these lines can reach the press, that truly great and 
 amiable gentleman, Mr. FitzAdam, will, in all probability, be no 
 more. An event so sudden and unexpected, and in which the 
 public are so deeply interested, cannot fail to excite the curiosity 
 of every reader. I shall, therefore, relate it in the most concise 
 manner I am able. 
 
 ' The reader may remember that in the first number of the 
 u World," and in several succeeding papers, the good old gentle- 
 man flattered himself that the profits of his labours would some 
 time or other enable him to make a genteel figure in the world, 
 and seat himself at last in his one-horse chair. The death of Mrs. 
 FitzAdam, which happened a few months since, as it relieved him 
 from the great expense of housekeeping, made him in a hurry to 
 set up his equipage ; and as the sale of his paper was even beyond 
 his expectations, I was one of the first of his friends that advised 
 him to purchase it. The equipage was accordingly bespoke and 
 sent home ; and as he had all along promised that his first visit in 
 it should be to me, I expected him last Tuesday at my country- 
 house at Hoxton. The poor gentleman was punctual to his 
 appointment ; and it was with great delight that I saw him from 
 my window driving up the road that leads to my house. Unfor- 
 tunately for him, his eye caught mine ; and hoping (as I suppose) 
 to captivate me by his great skill in driving, he made two or 
 three flourishes with his whip, which so frightened the horse that 
 he ran furiously away with the carriage, dashed it against a post, 
 and threw the driver from his seat with a violence hardly to be 
 conceived. I screamed out to my maid, " Lord bless me ! " says 
 il, " Mr. FitzAdam is killed ! " and away we ran to the spot where 
 he lay. At first I imagined that his head was off, but upon draw- 
 ing nearer I found it was his hat ! He breathed, indeed, which 
 gave me hopes that he was not quite dead ; but for signs of life, he 
 had positively none. 
 
356 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 'In this condition, with the help of some neighbours, we 
 brought him into the house, where a warm bed was quickly got 
 ready for him j which, together with bleeding and other helps, 
 brought him by degrees to life and reason. He looked round 
 about him for some time, and at last, seeing and knowing me, 
 inquired after his chaise. I told him it was safe, though a good 
 deal damaged. " No matter, madam," he replied ; " it has done 
 my business ; it has carried me a journey from this world to the 
 next. I shall have no use for it again. The ' World ' is now at 
 an end ! I thought it destined to last a longer period ; but the 
 decrees of fate are not to be resisted. It would have pleased me 
 to have written the last paper myself, but that task, madam, must 
 be yours ; and, however painful it may be to your modesty, I con- 
 jure you to undertake it. . . . My epitaph, if the public might be 
 so satisfied, I would have decent and concise. It would offend 
 my modesty if, after the name of FitzAdam, more were to be 
 added than these words : — 
 
 ' " He was the deepest Philosopher, 
 
 The wittiest Writer, 
 
 and 
 
 The greatest Man 
 
 Of this Age or Nation."' 
 
357 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 thackeray's familiarity with the writings of the 
 satirical essayists — Continued. 
 
 Characteristic Passages from the compositions of the ' Early Humourists,' from 
 Thackeray's Library, illustrated by the Author's hand with original Marginal 
 Sketches suggested by the Text — The 'Connoisseur,' 1754 — Introduction 
 — Review of Contributors— Paragraphs and Pencillings. 
 
 Preface to the 'Connoisseur.' 
 
 The 'Connoisseur' was undertaken by a brace of congenial 
 wits, George Colman the elder, well known as a humourist and 
 dramatic writer, and Bonnel Thornton, both of whom at the time 
 they obliged the public with this publication were very young men, 
 still pursuing their studies at Oxford University. They appear to 
 have entered into a partnership, of which the following account is 
 given in their last paper : — ' We have not only joined in the work 
 taken altogether,' says the writer of No. 140, 'but almost every 
 single paper is the product of both ; and, as we have laboured 
 equally in erecting the fabric, we cannot pretend that any one 
 particular part is the sole workmanship of either. A hint has 
 perhaps been started by one of us, improved by the other, and still 
 further heightened by a happy coalition of sentiment in both, as 
 fire is struck out by a mutual collision of flint and steel. Some- 
 times, like Strada's lovers conversing with the sympathetic needles, 
 we have written papers together at fifty miles' distance from 
 each other. The first rough draft or loose minutes of an essay 
 have often travelled in the stage-coach from town to country and 
 from country to town; and we have frequently waited for the 
 postman (whom we expected to bring us the precious remainder of 
 a "Connoisseur") with the same anxiety we should wait for the half 
 of a bank note, without which the other half would be of no value.' 
 
358 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Such, indeed, was the similarity of manner, that, after some 
 years, the survivor, George Colman, was unable to distinguish his 
 share from that of his colleague in the case of those papers which 
 were written conjointly. Neither had an individuality of style by 
 which conjecture might be assisted. The prose compositions of 
 both were of the light and easy kind, sometimes with a dramatic 
 turn, and sometimes with an air of parody or imitation • and their 
 objects were generally the same, the existing follies and absurdities 
 of the day, which they chastised with ironical severity. 
 
 George Colman, by whom it is probable the ' Connoisseur ' 
 was projected, was the son of Thomas Colman, British Resident 
 at the Court of the Grand Duke of Tuscany at Pisa, by a sister of 
 the Countess of Bath. He was born at Florence about the year 
 1733, and placed at a very early age at Westminster School, where 
 his talents soon became conspicuous, and where he contracted an 
 acquaintance with Lloyd, Churchill, Thornton, and others, who 
 were afterwards the reigning wits of the day, but unfortunately 
 only employed their genius on the perishable beings and events of 
 the passing hour. Colman was elected to Christ's Church in 1751, 
 and received the degree of M.A. in the month of March, 1758. 
 
 It was at that college he projected the ' Connoisseur,' which 
 was printed at Oxford by Jackson, and sent to London for publi- 
 cation ; it afforded the coadjutors a very desirable relaxation from 
 their classical studies, to which, however, Colman was particularly 
 attached, and which he continued to cultivate at a more advanced 
 period of life, his last publication being a translation of Horace's 
 ' Art of Poetry/ 
 
 Bonnel Thornton, the colleague of George Colman in many 
 of his literary labours, was the son of an apothecary, and born in 
 Maiden Lane, London, in the year 1724. After the usual course 
 of education at Westminster School, he was elected to Christ's 
 Church, Oxford, in 1743. The first publication in which he was 
 concerned was the ' Student, or the Oxford Monthly Miscellany/ 
 afterwards altered to the 'Student, or Oxford and Cambridge 
 Monthly Miscellany.' This entertaining medley appeared in 
 monthly numbers, printed at Oxford, for Newbery, in St. Paul's 
 Churchyard. Smart was the principal conductor, but Thornton 
 and other writers of both Universities occasionally assisted. 
 
 Our author, in 1752, began a periodical work, entitled 'Have 
 
THE 'CONNOISSEUR. 1 359 
 
 at ye All, or the Drury Lane Journal,' in opposition to Fielding's 
 'Covent Garden Journal.' It contains humorous remarks on 
 reigning follies, but indulges somewhat too freely in personal 
 ridicule. 
 
 Thornton took his degree of M.A. in April, 1750, and, as his 
 father wished him to make physic his profession, he took the 
 degree of Bachelor of that faculty, May 18, 1754 ; but his bent, like 
 that of Colman, was not to the severer studies, and they about this 
 time * clubbed their wits ' in the ' Connoisseur.' 
 
 According to their concluding motto : — 
 
 Sure in the selfsame mould their minds were cast, 
 Twins in affection, judgment, humour, taste. 
 
 The last number facetiously alludes to the persons and pursuits 
 of the joint projectors, by a sort of epigrammatic description of 
 Mr. Town. ' It has often been remarked that the reader is very 
 desirous of picking up some little particulars concerning the author 
 of the book he is perusing. To gratify this passion, many literary 
 anecdotes have been published, and an account of their life, 
 character, and behaviour has been prefixed to the works of our 
 most celebrated writers. Essayists are commonly expected to be 
 their own biographers ; and perhaps our readers may require some 
 further intelligence concerning the authors of the " Connoisseur." 
 But, as they have all along appeared as a sort of Sosias in litera- 
 ture, they cannot now describe themselves any otherwise than as 
 one and the same person ; and can only satisfy the curiosity of the 
 public, by giving a short account of that respectable personage 
 Mr. Town, considering him as of the plural, or rather, according to 
 the Grecians, of the dual number. 
 
 'Mr. Town is a, fair* black, middle-sized, very short man. He 
 wears his own hair, and a periwig. He is about thirty years of 
 age, and not more than four-and-twenty. He is a student of the 
 law, and a Bachelor of Physic. He was bred at the University of 
 Oxford, where, having taken no less than three degrees, he looks 
 down upon many learned professors as his inferiors ; yet, having 
 been there but little longer tlvan to take the first degree of Bachelor 
 of Arts, it has more than once happened that the Censor General 
 of all England has been reprimanded by the Censor of his college 
 
 * The characteristics printed in italics belong to George Colman. 
 
360 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 for neglecting to furnish the usual essay, or, in the collegiate 
 phrase, the theme of the week. 
 
 ' This joint description of ourselves will, we hope, satisfy the 
 reader without any further information. . . . We have all the 
 while gone on, as it were, hand in hand together ; and while we 
 are both employed in furnishing matter for the paper now before 
 us, we cannot help smiling at our thus making our exit together, 
 like the two kings of Brentford, smelling at one nosegay.' 
 
 Among the few occasional contributors who assisted the ori- 
 ginators of the ' Connoisseur/ the foremost was the Earl of Cork, 
 who has been noticed as a writer in the * World.' His communi- 
 cations to the organ of Mr. Town were the greater part of Nos. 14 
 and 1 7, the letters signed * Goliath English,' in No. 1 9, great part 
 of Nos. 33 and 40, and the letters signed ' Reginald Fitzworm,' 
 ' Michael Krawbridge,' ' Moses Orthodox,' and ' Thomas Vainall,' 
 in Nos. 102, 107, 113, and 129. Duncombe says of this noble- 
 man, that ' for humour, innocent humour, no one had a truer taste 
 or better talent.' The authors, in their last paper, acknowledge 
 the services of their elevated coadjutor in these words : — ' Our 
 earliest and most frequent correspondent distinguished his favours 
 by the signature " G. K.," and we are sorry that he will not allow 
 us to mention his name, since it would reflect as much credit on 
 our work as we are sure will redound to it from his contributions.' 
 
 The Rev. John Duncombe, who has also been noticed as one 
 of the writers in the ' World,' was a contributor to the ' Con- 
 noisseur.' The concluding paper already quoted observes in 
 reference to the communications of this writer : — ' The next in 
 priority of time is a gentleman of Cambridge, who signed himself 
 "A. B.," and we cannot but regret that he withdrew his assistance, 
 after having obliged us with the best part of the letters in Nos. 46, 
 49, and 52, and of the essays in Nos. 62 and 64.' 
 
 Of the remaining essayists concerned in this work, William 
 Cowper, the author of the ' Task,' is the only contributor whose 
 name has been recovered, and his assistance certainly sheds 
 an additional interest on the paper. In early life this gifted 
 poet is said to have formed an acquaintance with Colman 
 and his colleague; and to this circumstance we owe the few 
 papers in the ' Connoisseur ' which can be positively ascribed to 
 his pen; No. 119, 'On Keeping a Secret;' No. 134, 'Letter 
 
THE 'CONNOISSEUR. 1 361 
 
 from Mr. Village on the State of Country Churches, their Clergy 
 and Congregations;' and No. 138, 'On Conversation.' Other 
 papers are inferentially attributed, on internal evidence, to the 
 same author; No. in, containing the character of the delicate 
 * Billy Suckling,' and No. 119 are set down to him by Colman and 
 Thornton. Nos. 13, 23, 41, 76, 81, 105, and 139, although they 
 cannot be claimed with any degree of certainty for his authorship, 
 are presumably written by Mr. Village, the cousin of Mr. Town, 
 whose name is attached to No. 134, which is Cowper's beyond 
 question. 
 
 Robert Lloyd, a minor poet, whose misfortunes in life are in 
 some degree referred to the temptations held out by his convivial 
 literary associates, also contributed his lyric compositions to Mr. 
 Town's paper. He was referred to, at the close of the 'Con- 
 noisseur/ as ' the friend, a member of Trinity College, Cambridge,' 
 who wrote the song in No. 72, and the verses in Nos. 67, 90, 125, 
 and 135, all of which pieces were afterwards reprinted with his 
 other works in the second edition of Johnson's ' Poets.' 
 
 ' There are still remaining,' concludes Mr. Town, in his final 
 number, ' two correspondents, who must stand by themselves, as 
 they wrote to us, not in an assumed character, but in propria 
 persona. The first is no less a personage than Orator Henley, who 
 obliged us with that truly original letter printed in No. 37.* The 
 other, who favoured us with a letter no less original, No. 70, we 
 have reason to believe is a Methodist teacher, and a mechanic ; 
 but we do not know either his name or his trade.' 
 
 * The orator's epistle is in reality couched in violent and opprobrious lan- 
 guage ; and No. 70 is equally abusive and uncomplimentary to Mr. Town. 
 The communications of both of the reverend gentlemen pertain to the bellicose 
 •order, and threaten breaches of the peace. 
 
362 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 No. 7. The 'Connoisseur.' — March 14, 1754. 
 
 I loath'd the dinner, while before my face 
 The clown still paw'd you with a rude embrace ; 
 But when ye toy'd and kiss'd without controul, 
 I turned, and screen'd my eyes behind the bowl. 
 
 ' To Mr. Town. 
 
 <Sir,— I shall make no apology for recommending to your 
 notice, as Censor General, a fault that is too common among 
 married people ; I mean the absurd trick of fondling before com- 
 pany. Love is, indeed, a very rare ingredient in modern wedlock ; 
 nor can the parties entertain too much affection for each other ; 
 but an open display of it on all occasions renders them ridiculous. 
 
 ' A few days ago I was introduced to a young couple who 
 were but lately married, and are reckoned by all their acquaint- 
 
 ance to be exceedingly happy in each other. I had scarce 
 saluted the bride, when the husband caught her eagerly in his 
 arms and almost devoured her with kisses. When we were seated, 
 they took care to place themselves close to each other, and during 
 our conversation he was constantly fiddling with her fingers, 
 tapping her cheek, or playing with her hair. At dinner, they were 
 mutually employed in pressing each other to taste of every dish, 
 and the fond appellations of " My dear," " My love," &c, were 
 continually bandied across the table. Soon after the cloth was 
 removed, the lady made a motion to retire, but the husband 
 prevented the compliments of the rest of the company by saying, 
 "We should be unhappy without her." As the bottle went round, 
 he joined her health to every toast, and could not help now and 
 then rising from his chair to press her hand, and manifest the 
 
THE 'CONNOISSEUR: 363 
 
 warmth of his passion by the ardour of his caresses. This precious 
 fooling, though it highly entertained them, gave me great disgust ; 
 therefore, as my company might very well be spared, I took my 
 leave as soon as possible.' 
 
 No. 8. The 'Connoisseur.' — March 21, 1754. 
 
 In outward show so splendid and so vain, 
 'Tis but a gilded block without a brain. 
 
 ' I hope it will not be imputed to envy or malevolence that I 
 here remark on the sign hung out before the productions of Mr. 
 FitzAdam. When he gave his paper the title of the "World," I 
 suppose he meant to intimate his design of describing that part of 
 it who are known to account all other persons " Nobody," and 
 are therefore emphatically called the "W T orld." If this was to 
 
 be pictured out in the head-piece, a lady at her toilette, a party 
 at whist, or the jovial member of the Dilettanti tapping the world 
 for champagne, had been the most natural and obvious hierogly- 
 phics. But when we see the portrait of a philosopher poring on 
 the globe, instead of observations on modern life, we might more 
 naturally expect a system of geography, or an attempt towards a 
 discovery of the longitude. 
 
 ' Yet, in spite of all these disadvantages, the love of pleasure,, 
 and a few supernumerary guineas, draw the student from his 
 literary employment, and entice him to this theatre of noise and 
 hurry, this grand mart of luxury; where, as long as his purse can 
 supply him, he may be as idle and debauched as he pleases. I 
 could not help smiling at a dialogue between two of these gentle- 
 men, which I overheard a few nights ago at the Bedford Coffee- 
 house. " Ha ! Jack," says one, accosting the other, " is it you ? 
 How long have you been in town ?" " Two hours." " How long, 
 
364 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 do you stay?" "Ten guineas; if you'll come to Venable's after 
 the play is over, you'll find Tom Latin, Bob Classic, and two or 
 three more, who will be very glad to see you. What, you're in 
 town upon the sober plan at your father's? But hark ye, Frank, 
 if you'll call in, I'll tell your friend Harris to prepare for you. So 
 your servant ; for I'm going to meet the finest girl upon town in 
 the green-boxes." ' 
 
 No. 12. The 'Connoisseur/ — April 18, 1754. 
 
 Nor shall the four-legg'd culprit 'scape the law, 
 But at the bar hold up the guilty paw. 
 
 The editor has been turning over that part of Lord Boling- 
 broke's works in which he argues that Moses made the animals 
 accountable for their actions, and that they ought to be treated as 
 moral agents. 
 
 'These reflections were continued afterwards in my sleep; 
 when methought such proceedings were common in our courts of 
 judicature. I imagined myself in a spacious hall like the Old 
 Bailey, where they were preparing to try several animals, who had 
 been guilty of offences against the laws of the land. 
 
 ' The sessions soon opened, and the first prisoner that was 
 brought to the bar was a hog, who was prosecuted at the suit of 
 the Jews, on an indictment for burglary, in breaking into the syna- 
 gogue. As it was apprehended that religion might be affected by 
 this cause, and as the prosecution appeared to be malicious, the 
 hog, though the fact was plainly proved against him, to the great 
 joy of all true Christians, was allowed Benefit of Clergy. 
 
 1 An indictment was next brought against a cat for killing a 
 favourite canary-bird. This offender belonged to an old woman, 
 who was believed by the neighbourhood to be a 
 witch. The jury, therefore, were unanimous in 
 their opinion that she was the devil in that shape, 
 and brought her in guilty. Upon which the judge 
 formally pronounced sentence upon her, and, I re- 
 member, concluded with these words : — "You 
 must be carried to the place of execution, where 
 you are to be hanged by the neck nine times, till you are dead, 
 dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead ; and the fiddlers 
 have mercy upon your fiddle-strings ! " 
 
THE 'CONNOISSEUR: 365 
 
 ' A parrot was next tried for scandalum magnatiim. He was 
 accused by the chief magistrate of the city and the whole court of 
 aldermen for defaming them, as they passed along the street, on a 
 public festival, by singing, "Room for cuckolds, here comes a 
 great company ; room for cuckolds, here comes my Lord Mayor." 
 He had even the impudence to abuse the whole court, by calling 
 the jury rogues and rascals ; and frequently interrupted my lord 
 judge in summing up the evidence, by crying out, " You dog ! " 
 The court, however, was pleased to show mercy to him upon the 
 petition of his mistress, a strict Methodist ; who gave bail for his 
 good behaviour, and delivered him over to Mr. Whitefield, who 
 undertook to make a thorough convert of him.' 
 
 No. 14. The 'Connoisseur.' — May 2, 1754. 
 
 1 To Mr. Town. 
 
 ' Sir,— I received last week a dinner-card 
 from a friend, with an intimation that I 
 should meet some very agreeable ladies. At 
 my arrival I found that the company con- 
 sisted chiefly of females, who indeed did me 
 the honour to rise, but quite disconcerted me 
 in paying my respects by whispering to each 
 other, and appearing to stifle a laugh. When 
 I was seated, the ladies grouped themselves up in a corner, and 
 entered on a private cabal, seemingly to discourse upon points of 
 great secrecy and importance, but of equal merriment and diver- 
 sion. 
 
 ' It was a continued laugh and whisper from the beginning to 
 the end of dinner. A whole sentence was scarce ever spoken 
 aloud. Single words, indeed, now and then broke forth ; such as 
 " odious, horrible, detestable, shocking, humbug." 
 
 1 This last new-coined expression, which is only to be found in 
 the nonsensical vocabulary, sounds absurd and disagreeable when- 
 ever it is pronounced ; but from the mouth of a lady it is " shock- 
 ing, detestable, horrible, and odious." 
 
 ' Thus the whole behaviour of these ladies is in direct contra- 
 diction to good manners. They laugh when they should cry, are 
 loud when they should be silent, and are silent when their con- 
 
366 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 versation is desirable. If a man in a select company was thus to 
 laugh or whisper me out of countenance, I should be apt to con- 
 strue it as an affront, and demand an explanation. As to the 
 ladies, I would desire them to reflect how much they would suffer 
 if their own weapons were turned against them, and the gentlemen 
 should attack them with the same arts of laughing and whispering. 
 But, however free they may be from our resentment, they are still 
 open to ill-natured suspicions. They do not consider what strange 
 constructions may be put on these laughs and whispers. It were, 
 indeed, of little consequence if we only imagined that they were 
 taking the reputations of their acquaintance to pieces, or abusing 
 the company around ; but when they indulge themselves in this 
 behaviour, some, perhaps, may be led to conclude that they are 
 discoursing upon topics which they are ashamed to speak of in a 
 less private manner.' 
 
 No. 19. The ' Connoisseur.'— -June 6, 1754. 
 
 Poscentes vario multum diversa palato. — Hor. 
 
 How ill our different tastes agree ! 
 
 This will have beef, and that a fricassee ! , 
 
 1 The taverns about the purlieus of Covent Garden are dedi- 
 cated to Venus as well as Ceres and Liber ; and you may fre- 
 quently see the jolly messmates of both sexes go in and come out 
 in couples, like the clean and unclean beasts in Noah's ark. These 
 houses are equally indebted for their support to the cook and that 
 worthy personage whom they have dignified with the title of pro- 
 curer. These gentlemen contrive to play into each other's hands. 
 The first, by his high soups and rich sauces, prepares the way for 
 the occupation of the other; who, having reduced the patient by 
 a proper exercise of his art, returns him back again to go through 
 the same regimen as before. We may therefore suppose that the 
 culinary arts are no less studied here than at White's or Pontac's. 
 True geniuses in eating will continually strike out new improve- 
 ments ; but I dare say neither of the distinguished chiefs of these 
 clubs ever made up a more extraordinary dish than I once remem- 
 ber at the "Castle." Some bloods being in company with a cele- 
 brated fille de joie, one of them pulled off her shoe, and in excess 
 of gallantry filled it with champagne, and drank it off to her 
 
THE 'CONNOISSEUR. 1 367 
 
 health. In this delicious draught he was immediately pledged by 
 the rest, and then, to carry the compliment still further, he ordered 
 the shoe itself to be dressed and served up for supper. The cook 
 set himself seriously to work upon it ; he pulled the upper part 
 (which was of damask) into fine shreds, and tossed it up in a 
 ragout; minced the sole, cut the wooden heel into very thin 
 slices, fried them in batter, and placed them round the dish for 
 garnish. The company, you may be sure, testified their affection 
 for the lady by eating very heartily of this exquisite impromptu ; 
 and as this transaction happened just after the French King had 
 taken a cobbler's daughter for his mistress, Tom Pierce (who has 
 the style as well as art of a French cook) in his bill politely called 
 it, in honour of her name, De Soulier a la Murphy. 
 
 1 Taverns, Mr. Town, seem contrived for promoting of luxury, 
 while the humbler chop-houses are designed only to satisfy the 
 ordinary cravings of nature. Yet at these you may meet with a 
 variety of characters. At Dolly's and Horseman's you commonly 
 see the hearty lovers of beef-steak and gill ale ; and at Betty's, and 
 the chop-houses about the Inns of Court, a pretty maid is as 
 inviting as the provisions. In these common refectories you may 
 always find the Jemmy attorney's 
 clerk, the prim curate, the walking 
 physician, the captain upon half- 
 pay, the shabby valet de chambre 
 upon board wages, and the foreign 
 count or marquis in dishabille, who 
 has refused to dine with a duke or 
 an ambassador. At a little eating- 
 house in a dark alley behind the 
 'Change, I once saw a grave citizen, worth a plum, order a two- 
 penny mess of broth with a boiled chop in it ; and when it was 
 brought him, he scooped the crumb out of a halfpenny roll, and 
 soaked it in the porridge for his present meal; then carefully 
 placing the chop between the upper and under crust, he wrapt it 
 up in a checked handkerchief, and carried it off for the morrow's 
 repast.' 
 
368 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 No. 30. The 'Connoisseur.' — Aug. 22, 1754. 
 
 Thumps following thumps, and blows succeeding blows, 
 Swell the black eye and crush the bleeding nose ; 
 Beneath the pond'rous fist the jaw-bone cracks, 
 And the cheeks ring with their redoubled thwacks. 
 
 'The amusement of boxing, I must confess, is more imme- 
 diately calculated for the vulgar, who can have no relish for the 
 more refined pleasures of whist and the 
 hazard table. Men of fashion have found 
 out a more genteel employment for their 
 hands in shuffling a pack of cards and 
 shaking the dice ; and, indeed, it will 
 ^ appear, upon a strict review, that most of 
 ? our fashionable diversions are nothing else 
 but different branches of gaming. What lady would be able to 
 boast a rout at her house consisting of three or four hundred 
 persons, if they were not to be drawn together by the charms of 
 playing a rubber? and the prohibition of our jubilee masquerades 
 is hardly to be regretted, as they wanted the most essential part of 
 their entertainments— the E. O. table. To this polite spirit of 
 gaming, which has diffused itself through all the fashionable world, 
 is owing the vast encouragement that is given to the turf; and 
 horse races are esteemed only as they afford occasion for making 
 a bet. The same spirit likewise draws the knowing ones together 
 in a cockpit ; and cocks are rescued from the dunghill, and armed 
 with gaffles, to furnish a new species of gaming. For this reason, 
 among others, I cannot but regret the loss of our elegant amuse- 
 ments in Oxford Road and Tottenham Court. A great part of 
 the spectators used to be deeply interested in what was doing on 
 the stage, and were as earnest to make an advantage of the issue 
 of the battle as the champions themselves to draw the largest 
 sum from the box. The amphitheatre was at once a school for 
 boxing and gaming. Many thousands have depended upon a 
 match ; the odds have often risen at a black eye ; a large bet has 
 been occasioned by a "cross-buttock;" and while the house has 
 resounded with the lusty bangs of the combatants, it has at the 
 same time echoed with the cries of " Five to one ! six to one ! ten 
 to one ! " ' 
 
the ' connoisseur: 
 
 369 
 
 No. 34. The ' Connoisseur/ — Sept. 19, 1754. 
 
 Reprehendere coner, 
 Quae gravis iEsopus, qua? doctus Roscius egit. — Hor. 
 
 Whene'er he bellows, who but smiles at Quin, 
 And laughs when Garrick skips like harlequin ? 
 
 'I have observed that the tragedians of the last age studied 
 fine speaking, in consequence of which all their action consisted 
 in little more than strutting with one leg before the other, and 
 waving one or both arms in a continual see-saw. Our present 
 actors have, perhaps, run into a contrary extreme ; their gestures 
 sometimes resemble those afflicted with St. Vitus's dance, their 
 whole frame appears to be convulsed, and I have seen a player in 
 the last act so miserably distressed that a deaf spectator would be 
 apt to imagine he was complaining of the colic or the toothache. 
 This has also given rise to that unnatural custom of throwing the 
 body into various strange altitudes. There is not a passion neces- 
 sary to be expressed but has produced dispositions of the limbs 
 not to be found in any of the paintings or sculptures of the best 
 masters. A graceful gesture and easy deportment is, indeed, 
 worthy the care of every per- 
 former ; but when I observe 
 him writhing his body into 
 more unnatural contortions 
 than a tumbler at Sadler's 
 Wells, I cannot help being 
 disgusted to see him "imi- 
 tate humanity so abomin- 
 ably." Our pantomime au- 
 thors have already begun to 
 reduce our comedies into grotesque scenes ; and, if this taste for 
 attitude should continue to be popular, I would recommend it to 
 those ingenious gentlemen to adapt our best tragedians to the 
 same use, and entertain us with the jealousy of Othello in dumb 
 show or the tricks of Harlequin Hamlet. 
 
 B B 
 
37o THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 thackeray's researches amongst the writings of the 
 early essayists — Continued. 
 
 Characteristic Passages from the Works of the ' Humourists,' from Thackeray's 
 Library ; illustrated by the Author's hand with Marginal Sketches sug- 
 gested by the Text — The ' Rambler,' 1749-50 — Introduction — Its Author, 
 Dr. Johnson — Paragraphs and Pencillings. 
 
 Preface to the ' Rambler.' 
 
 When, says Dr. Chalmers, Dr. Johnson undertook to write this 
 justly celebrated paper, he had many difficulties to encounter. If 
 lamenting that, during the long period which had elapsed since 
 the conclusion of the writings of Addison, vice and folly had 
 begun to recover from depressing contempt, he wished again to 
 rectify public taste and manners — to ' give confidence to virtue 
 and ardour to truth' — he knew that the popularity of these 
 writings had constituted them a precedent which his genius was 
 incapable of following, and from which it would be dangerous to 
 depart. In the character of an essayist he was, hitherto, unknown 
 to the public. He had written nothing by which a favourable 
 judgment could be formed of his success in a species of compo- 
 sition which seemed to require the ease, the vivacity, and humour 
 of polished life ; and he had probably often heard it repeated 
 that Addison and his colleagues had anticipated all the subjects 
 fit for popular essays ; that he might, indeed, aim at varying or 
 improving what had been said before, but could stand no chance 
 of being esteemed an original writer, or of striking the imagination 
 by new and unexpected reflections and incidents. He was like- 
 wise, perhaps, aware that he might be reckoned what he about 
 this time calls himself — ' a retired and uncourtly scholar,' unfit to 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 371 
 
 describe, because precluded from the observation of, refined 
 society and manners. 
 
 But they who pride themselves on long and accurate know- 
 ledge of the world are not aware how little of that knowledge is 
 necessary in order to expose vice or detect absurdity ; nor can 
 they believe that evidence far short of ocular demonstration is 
 amply sufficient for the purposes of the wit and the novelist. Dr. 
 Johnson appeared in the character of a moral teacher, with powers 
 of mind beyond the common lot of man, and with a knowledge 
 of the inmost recesses of the human heart such as never was dis- 
 played with more elegance or stronger conviction. Though in 
 some respects a recluse, he had not been an inattentive observer 
 of human life ; and he was now of an age at which probably as 
 much is known as can be known, and at which the full vigour of 
 his faculties enabled him to divulge his experience and his observ- 
 ations with a certainty that they were neither immature nor falla- 
 cious. He had studied, and he had noted on the varieties of human 
 character ; and it is evident that the lesser improprieties of conduct 
 and errors of domestic life had often been the subjects of his secret 
 ridicule. 
 
 Previously to the commencement of the ' Rambler ' he had 
 drawn the outlines of many essays, of which specimens may be 
 seen in the biographies of Sir John Hawkins and Boswell ; and it 
 is probable that the sentiments of all these papers had been 
 long floating in his mind. With such preparation he began the 
 1 Rambler/ without any communication with his friends or desire 
 of assistance. Whether he proposed the scheme himself does 
 not appear ; but he was fortunate in forming an engagement with 
 Mr. John Payne, a bookseller in Paternoster Row (and afterwards 
 the chief accountant of the Bank of England), a man with whom 
 he lived many years in habits of friendship, and who, on the 
 present occasion, treated his author with liberality. He engaged 
 to pay two guineas for each paper, or four guineas per week, 
 which, at that time, must have been to Johnson a very consider- 
 able sum ; and he admitted him to a share of the future profits 
 of the work when it should be collected into volumes, which share 
 Johnson afterwards sold. It has been observed that objections 
 have been offered to the name ' Rambler.' Johnson's account to 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds forms, probably, as good an excuse as so 
 
372 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 trifling a circumstance demands. ' What must be done, sir, will 
 be done. When I was to begin publishing that paper, I was at a 
 loss how to name it. I sat down at night upon my bedside, and 
 resolved that I would not go to sleep till I had fixed its title. 
 The " Rambler " seemed the best that occurred, and I took it.' 
 The Italians have literally translated this name ' 77 Vagabondo. 1 
 
 The first paper was published on Tuesday, March 20, 1749-50, 
 and the work continued without the least interruption every Tues- 
 day and Saturday until Saturday, March 14, 1752, on which day it 
 closed. Each number was handsomely printed on a sheet and a 
 half of fine paper, at the price of twopence, and with great typo- 
 graphical accuracy, not above a dozen errors occurring in the 
 whole work — a circumstance the more remarkable, because the 
 copy was written in haste, as the time urged, and sent to the press 
 without being revised by the author. When we consider that, in 
 the whole progress of the work, the sum of assistance he received 
 scarcely amounted to five papers, we must wonder at the fertility 
 of a mind engaged during the same period on that stupendous 
 labour, the English Dictionary, and frequently distracted by 
 disease and anguish. Other essayists have had the choice of 
 their days, and their happy hours, for composition ; but Johnson 
 knew no remission, although he very probably would have been 
 glad of it, and yet continued to write with unabated vigour, al- 
 though even this disappointment might be supposed to have often 
 rendered him uneasy ; and his natural indolence — not the indo- 
 lence of will, but of constitution — would, in other men, have 
 palsied every effort. Towards the conclusion there is so little of 
 that 'falling off' visible in some works of the same kind, that it 
 might probably have been extended much further, had the en- 
 couragement of the public borne any proportion to its merits. 
 
 The assistance Johnson received was very trifling : Richard- 
 son, the novelist, wrote No. 97. The four letters in No. 10 were 
 written by Miss Mulso, afterwards Mrs. Chapone, who also con- 
 tributed the story of ' Fidelia ' to the ' Adventurer,' a paper con- 
 ducted by Doctors Hawkesworth, Johnson, Thornton, and Warton, 
 which succeeded the 'Rambler.' No. 30 was written by Miss 
 Catharine Talbot, and Nos. 44 and 100 were written by Mrs. 
 Elizabeth Carter. 
 
 The ' Rambler ' made its way very slowly into the world. All 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 373 
 
 scholars, all men of taste, saw its excellence at once, and crowded 
 round the author to solicit his friendship and relieve his anxieties. 
 It procured him a multitude of friends and admirers among men 
 distinguished for rank as well as genius, and it constituted a per- 
 petual apology for that rugged and uncourtly manner which some- 
 times rendered his conversation formidable, and, to those who 
 looked from the book to the man, presented a contrast that would 
 no doubt frequently excite amazement. 
 
 Still, it must be confessed, there were at first many prejudices 
 against the ' Rambler ' to be overcome. The style was new ; it 
 appeared harsh, involved, and perplexed ; it required more than a 
 transitory inspection to be understood ; it did not suit those who 
 run as they read, and who seldom return to a book if the hour it 
 helped to dissipate can be passed away in more active pleasures. 
 When reprinted in volumes, however, the sale gradually increased; 
 it was recommended by the friends of religion and literature as a 
 book by which a man might learn to think ; and the author lived 
 to see ten large editions printed in England, besides those which 
 were clandestinely printed in other parts of the kingdom and in 
 America. Since Johnson's death the number of editions has been 
 multiplied. 
 
 Sir John Hawkins informs us that these essays hardly ever 
 underwent a Revision before they were sent to the press, and adds : 
 ' The original manuscripts of the " Rambler " have passed through 
 my hands, and by the perusal of them I am warranted to say, as 
 was said of Shakespeare by the players of that time, that he never 
 blotted out a line, and I believe without the retort which Ben Jonson 
 made to them : " Would he had blotted out a thousand!" ' 
 
 However, Dr. Johnson's desire to carry his essays, which he 
 regarded in some degree as his monument to posterity, as near 
 perfection as his labours could achieve, induced him to devote 
 such attention to the preparation of the ' Ramblers ' for the 
 collected series that the alterations in the second and third editions 
 far exceed six thousand — a number which may perhaps justify the 
 use of the expression ' re-wrote,' although it must not be taken in 
 its literal acceptation. 
 
 With respect to the plan of the ' Rambler,' Dr. Johnson may 
 surely be said to have executed what he intended : he has success- 
 fully attempted the propagation of truth, and boldly maintained 
 
374 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 the dignity of virtue. He has accumulated in this work a treasury 
 of moral science which will not be soon exhausted. He has 
 laboured to refine our language to grammatical purity, and to 
 clear it from colloquial barbarisms, licentious idioms, and irre- 
 gular combinations. Something he has certainly added to the 
 elegance of its construction, and something to the harmony of its 
 cadence. 
 
 Comparisons have been formed between the ' Rambler ' and 
 its predecessors, or rather between the genius of Johnson and 
 Addison, but have generally ended in discovering a total want of 
 resemblance. As they were both original writers, they must be 
 tried, if tried at all, by laws applicable to their respective attri- 
 butes. But neither had a predecessor. We find no humour like 
 Addison's, no energy and dignity like Johnson's. They had 
 nothing in common but moral excellence of character ; they could 
 not have exchanged styles for an hour. Yet there is one respect 
 in which we must give Addison the preference — more general 
 utility. His writings would have been .understood at any period; 
 Johnson's are more calculated for an improved and liberal educa- 
 tion. In both, however, what was peculiar was natural. The 
 earliest of Dr. Johnson's works confirm this ; from the moment he 
 could write at all he wrote in stately periods, and his conversation 
 from first to last abounded in the peculiarities of his composition. 
 Addison principally excelled in the observation of manners, 
 and in that exquisite ridicule he threw on the minute improprieties 
 of life. Johnson, although not ignorant of life or manners, could 
 not descend to familiarities with tucker3 and commodes, with furs 
 and hoop-petticoats. A scholarly professor and a writer from 
 necessity, he loved to bring forward subjects so near and dear as 
 the disappointments of authors — the dangers and miseries of 
 literary eminence — anxieties of literature — contrariety of criti- 
 cism — miseries of patronage — value of fame — causes of the con- 
 tempt of the learned — prejudices and caprices of criticism — 
 vanity of an author's expectations — meanness of dedications — 
 necessity of literary courage, and all those other subjects which 
 relate to authors and their connection with the public. Sometimes 
 whole papers are devoted to what may be termed the personal 
 concerns of men of literature, and incidental reflections are every- 
 where interspersed for the instruction or caution of the same class. 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 
 
 375 
 
 When he treats of common life and manners it has been 
 observed he gives to the lowest of his correspondents the same 
 style and lofty periods ; and it may also be noticed that the 
 ridicule he attempts is in some cases considerably heightened by 
 the very want of accommodation of character. Yet it must be 
 allowed that the levity and giddiness of coquettes and fine ladies 
 are expressed with great difficulty in the Johnsonian language. 
 It has been objected also that even the names of his ladies have 
 very little of the air of either court or city, as Zosima, Properantia, 
 •&c. Every age seems to have its peculiar names of fiction. In 
 the ' Spectators,' 'Tatlers,' &c, the Damons and Phillises, the 
 Amintors and Claras, &c, were the representatives of every virtue 
 and folly. 
 
 These were succeeded by the Philamonts, Tenderillas, Timo- 
 leons, Seomanthes, Pantheas, Adrastas, and Bellimantes, names to 
 which Mrs. Heywood gave currency in her ' Female Spectator,' 
 and from which at no great distance of time Dr. Johnson appears 
 to have taken his Zephyrettas, Trypheruses, Nitellas, Misotheas 
 Yagarios, and Flirtillas. 
 
 Lj^ 
 
 -jj J TrirL"Lj'i 
 
 m 
 
 THE 'RAMBLER.' 
 By DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. 
 
 VOL. I., I75O. 
 
 < To the " Rambler: 1 
 
 1 Sir, — As you seem to have devoted your labours to virtue, I 
 cannot forbear to inform you of one species of cruelty with which 
 the life of a man of letters perhaps does not often make him 
 acquainted, and which, as it seems to produce no other advantage 
 to those that practise it than a short gratification of thoughtless 
 
376 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 vanity, may become less common when it has been once exposed 
 in its various forms, and in full magnitude. 
 
 ' I am the daughter of a country gentleman, whose family is 
 numerous, and whose state, not at first sufficient to supply us with 
 affluence, has been lately so impaired by an unsuccessful lawsuit, 
 that all the younger children are obliged to try such means as 
 
 their education affords them for procuring the necessaries of life. 
 Distress and curiosity concurred to bring me to London, where I 
 was received by a relation with the coldness which misfortune 
 generally finds. A week — a long week — I lived with my cousin 
 before the most vigilant inquiry could procure us the least hopes 
 of a place, in which time I was much better qualified to bear all 
 the vexations of servitude. The first two days she was content to 
 pity me, and only wished I had not been quite so well bred ; but 
 people must comply with their circumstances. This lenity, how- 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 
 
 377 
 
 ever, was soon at an end, and for the remaining part of the week 
 I heard every hour of the pride of the family, the obstinacy of my 
 father, and of people better born than myself that were common 
 servants. 
 
 'At last, on Saturday noon, she told me, with very visible 
 satisfaction, that Mrs. Bombasine, the great silk-mercer's lady, 
 wanted a maid, and a fine place it would be, for there would be 
 nothing to do but to clean my mistress's room, get up her linen, 
 dress the young ladies, wait at tea in the morning, taking care of a 
 little miss just come from nurse, and then sit down to my needle. 
 But madam was a woman of great spirit, and would not be con- 
 tradicted, and therefore I should take care, for good places are not 
 easily to be got. 
 
 ' With these cautions I waited on Madame Bombasine, of whom 
 the first sight gave me no ravishing ideas. She was two yards 
 round the waist, her voice was 
 at once loud and squeaking, 
 and her face brought to my 
 mind the picture of the full 
 moon. "Are you the young 
 woman," says she, " that are 
 come to offer yourself? It is 
 strange when people of sub- 
 stance want a servant how 
 soon it is the town talk. But they know they shall have a bellyful 
 that live with me. Not like people that live at the other end of 
 the town, we dine at one o'clock. But I never take anybody 
 without a character ; what friends do you come of? " I then told 
 her that my father was a gentleman, and that we had been unfor- 
 tunate. "A great misfortune indeed to come to me and have 
 three meals a day ! So your father was a gentleman, and you are 
 a gentlewoman, I suppose — such gentlewomen ! " " Madam, I 
 did not mean to claim any exemptions; I only answered your 
 inquiry." " Such gentlewomen ! people should set up their chil- 
 dren to good trades, and keep them off the parish. Pray go to 
 the other end of the town ; there are gentlewomen, if they would 
 pay their debts ; I am sure we have lost enough by gentlewomen."' 
 Upon this her broad face grew broader with triumph, and I was. 
 afraid she would have taken me for the pleasure of continuing her 
 
378 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 insult ; but happily the next word was, " Pray, Mrs. Gentlewoman, 
 troop downstairs." You may believe I obeyed her. 
 
 1 After numerous misadventures of the same description, it was 
 of no purpose that the refusal was declared by me never to be on 
 my side ; I was reasoning against interest and against stupidity ; 
 and therefore I comforted myself with the hope of succeeding 
 better in my next attempt, and went to Mrs. Courtly, a very fine 
 
 lady, who had routs at her 
 house, and saw the best com- 
 pany in town. 
 
 ' I had not waited two 
 hours before I was called up, 
 and found Mr. Courtly and his 
 lady at piquet in the height of 
 good humour. This I looked on as a favourable sign, and stood 
 at the lower end of the room, in expectation of the common ques- 
 tions. At last Mr. Courtly called out, after a whisper, " Stand 
 facing the light, that one may see you." I changed my place, and 
 blushed. They frequently turned their eyes upon me, and seemed 
 to discover many subjects of merriment, for at every look they 
 whispered, and laughed with the most violent agitations of delight. 
 At last Mr. Courtly cried out, " Is that colour your own, child ? " 
 '"Yes," said the lady, " if she has not robbed the kitchen hearth." 
 It was so happy a conceit that it renewed the storm of laughter, 
 and they threw down their cards in hopes of better sport. The 
 lady then called me to her, and began with affected gravity to 
 inquire what I could do. " But first turn about, and let us see 
 your fine shape; well, what are you fit for, Mrs. Mum? You 
 would find your tongue, I suppose, in the kitchen." " No, no," 
 says Mrs. Courtly, " the girl's a good girl yet, but I am afraid a 
 
 brisk young fellow, with fine tags on his shoulder " " Come, 
 
 child, hold up your head ; what ? you have stole nothing." " Not 
 yet/' said the lady; "but she hopes to steal your heart quickly." 
 Here was a laugh of happiness and triumph, prolonged by the 
 confusion which I could no longer repress. At last the lady recol- 
 lected herself: " Stole ? no— but if I had her I should watch her ; 
 
 for that downcast eye Why cannot you look people in the 
 
 face?" "Steal!" says her husband, "she would steal nothing 
 but, perhaps, a few ribbons before they were left off by my lady/ 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 379 
 
 "Sir," answered I, "why should you, by supposing me a thief, 
 insult one from whom you have received no injury ? " " Insult ! " 
 says the lady ; " are you come here to be a servant, you saucy 
 baggage, and talk of insulting ? What will this world come to if a 
 gentleman may not jest with a servant ? Well, such servants ! 
 pray be gone, and see when you will have the honour to be so 
 insulted again. Servants insulted — a fine time ! Insulted ! Get 
 downstairs, you slut, or the footman shall insult you." ' 
 
 The < Rambler.'— Vol. I. No. 18. 
 
 ' There is no observation more frequently made by such as 
 employ themselves in surveying the conduct of mankind than 
 that marriage, though the dictate of nature, and the institute of 
 Providence, is yet very often the cause of misery, and that those 
 who enter into that state can seldom forbear to express their 
 repentance, and their envy of those whom either chance or 
 caution hath withheld from it. 
 
 ' One of the first of my acquaintances that resolved to quit the 
 unsettled, thoughtless condition of a bachelor was Prudentius, a 
 man of slow parts, but not without knowledge or judgment in 
 things which he had leisure to consider gradually before he 
 determined them. This grave considerer found by deep medi- 
 tation that a man was no loser by marrying early, even though he 
 contented himself with a less fortune, for, estimating the exact 
 worth of annuities, he found that considering 
 the constant diminution of the value of life, 
 with the probable fall of the interest of 
 money, it was not worse to have ten thousand 
 pounds at the age of two-and-twenty years 
 than a much larger fortune at thirty ; for 
 many opportunities, says he, occur of improving money which, if a 
 man misses, he may not afterwards recover. 
 
 ' Full of these reflections, he threw his eyes about him, not in 
 search of beauty or elegance, dignity or understanding, but of a 
 woman with ten thousand pounds. Such a woman, in a wealthy 
 part of the kingdom, it was not difficult to find ; and by artful 
 management with her father — whose ambition was to make his 
 daughter a gentlewoman — my friend got her, as he boasted to us 
 
380 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 in confidence two days after his marriage, for a settlement of 
 seventy-three pounds a year less than her fortune might have 
 claimed, and less than himself would have given if the fools had 
 been but wise enough to delay the bargain. 
 
 ' Thus at once delighted with the superiority of his parts and 
 the augmentation of his fortune, he carried Furia to his own house, 
 in which he never afterwards enjoyed one hour of happiness. For 
 Furia was a wretch of mean intellects, violent passions, a strong 
 voice, and low education, without any sense of happiness but that 
 which consisted in eating, and counting money. Furia was a 
 scold. They agreed in the desire of wealth, but with this differ- 
 ence : that Pruden tius was for growing rich by gain, Furia by 
 parsimony. Prudentius would venture his money with chances 
 very much in his favour; but Furia, very wisely observing that 
 what they had was, while they had it, their own, thought all traffic 
 too great a hazard, and was for putting it out at low interest upon 
 good security. Prudentius ventured, however, to insure a ship at 
 a very unreasonable price ; but, happening to lose his money, was 
 so tormented with the clamours of his wife that he never durst try 
 a second experiment. He has now grovelled seven-and-forty years 
 under Furia's direction, who never once mentioned him, since his 
 bad luck, by any other name than that of the " usurer." ' 
 
 The < Rambler.'— Vol I. No. 24. 
 
 Nemo in sese tentat descendere. — Persius. 
 None, none descends into himself. — Dryden. 
 
 1 Among the precepts or aphorisms admitted by general con- 
 sent and inculcated by repetition, there is none more famous, 
 among the masters of ancient wisdom, than 
 that compendious lesson, Tvwdi <teclvt6v — Be 
 acquainted with thyself— ascribed by some to 
 an oracle, and others to Chilo of Lacedaemon. 
 'We might have had more satisfaction 
 concerning the original import of this cele- 
 brated sentence, if history had informed us 
 whether it was uttered as a general instruction to mankind, or as a 
 particular caution to some private inquirer ; whether it was applied 
 to some single occasion, or laid down as the universal rule of life. 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 
 
 38r 
 
 'The great praise of Socrates is that he drew the wits of 
 Greece, by his instruction and example, from the vain pursuit of 
 natural philosophy to moral inquiries, and turned their thoughts 
 from stars and tides, and matter and motion, upon the various 
 modes of virtue and relations of life. 
 
 ' The great fault of men of learning is still that they offend 
 against this rule, and appear willing to study anything rather than 
 themselves; for which reason they are often despised by those 
 with whom they imagine themselves above comparison. 
 
 1 Eupheues,* with great parts of extensive knowledge, has a 
 clouded aspect and ungracious form, yet it has been his ambition, 
 from his first entrance into life, to distinguish himself by parti- 
 cularities in his dress — to outvie beaus in embroidery, to import 
 new trimming, and to be foremost in the fashion. Eupheues has 
 turned on his exterior appearance that attention which would have 
 always produced esteem had it been fixed upon his mind ; and, 
 though his virtues and abilities have preserved him from the con- 
 tempt which he has so diligently solicited, he has at least raised 
 one impediment to his reputation, since all can judge of his dress, 
 but few of his understanding, and many who discern that he is a 
 fop are unwilling to believe that he can be wise. 
 
 1 There is one instance in which the ladies are particularly un- 
 willing to observe the rule of Chilo. They are desirous to hide 
 from themselves the 
 advance of age, and 
 endeavour too fre- 
 quently to supply 
 the sprightliness and 
 bloom of youth by 
 artificial beauty and 
 forced vivacity. 
 
 ' They hope to 
 inflame the heart by glances which have lost their fire, or melt 
 it by laughter which is no longer delicate; they play over airs 
 which pleased at a time when they were expected only to please, 
 and forget that airs in time ought to give place to virtues. They 
 
 * Dr. Johnson seems here to point his homily from the instance of his 
 friend Goldsmith. This circumstance gives an individual interest to a slightly 
 ponderous sketch. 
 
 £& 
 
382 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 continue to trifle, because they could once trifle agreeably, till 
 those who shared their early pleasures are withdrawn to more 
 serious engagements, and are scarcely awakened from their dream 
 of pepetual youth by the scorn of those whom they endeavour to 
 rival.' 
 
 The ' Rambler.'— Vol. I. No. 34. 
 
 Non sine vano 
 Aurarum et silvae metu. — Hor. 
 
 Alarm'd with every rising gale, 
 
 In every wood, in every vale. — Elphinston. 
 
 The ' Rambler ' inserts a letter describing how the end of those 
 ladies whose chief ambition is to please is often missed by absurd 
 and injudicious endeavours to obtain distinction, and who mistake 
 cowardice for elegance, and imagine all delicacy consists in re- 
 fusing to be pleased. A country gentleman relates the circum- 
 stances of his visit to A?ithea, a heiress, whose birth and beauty 
 render her a desirable match : — 
 
 'Dinner was now over, and the company proposed that we 
 should pursue our original design of visiting the gardens. Anthea 
 declared that she could not imagine what pleasure we expected 
 from the sight of a few green trees and a little gravel, and two or 
 three pits of clear water ; that, for her part, she hated walking till 
 the cool of the evening, and thought it very likely to rain, and 
 again wished she had stayed at home. We then reconciled our- 
 selves to our disappointment, and began to talk on common sub- 
 jects, when Anthea told us 
 since we came to see the gar- 
 dens she would not hinder 
 our satisfaction. We all rose, 
 and walked through the en- 
 closures for some time with no 
 other trouble than the neces- 
 sity of watching lest a frog should hop across the way, which, Anthea 
 told us, would certainly kill her if she should happen to see him. 
 
 ' Frogs, as it fell out, there were none ; but when we were 
 within a furlong of the gardens Anthea saw some sheep, and heard 
 the wether clink his bell, which she was certain was not hung 
 upon him for nothing, and therefore no assurances noi entreaties 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 383 
 
 should prevail upon her to go a step further: she was sorry to dis- 
 appoint the company, but her life was dearer to her than ceremony. 
 1 We came back to the inn, and Anthea now discovered that 
 there was no time to be lost in returning, for the night would come 
 upon us and a thousand misfortunes might happen in the dark. 
 The horses were immediately harnessed, and Anthea, having 
 wondered what could seduce her to stay so long, was eager to set 
 out. But we had now a new scene of terror ; every man we saw 
 was a robber, and we were ordered sometimes to drive hard — lest 
 a traveller, whom we saw behind, should overtake us — and some- 
 times to stop, lest we should come up to him who was passing 
 before us. She alarmed many an honest man by begging him to 
 spare her life as he passed by the coach, and drew me into fifteen 
 quarrels with persons who increased her fright by kindly stopping 
 to inquire whether they could assist us. At last we came home, 
 and she told her company next day what a pleasant ride she had 
 been taking.' 
 
 The 'Rambler.' — Vol. I. No. 37. 
 
 Piping on their reeds the shepherds go, 
 Nor fear an ambush, nor suspect a foe. — Pope. 
 Canto quae solitus, si quando armenta vocabat, 
 Amphion Dircceus. — Virg. 
 
 Such strains I sing as once Amphion play'd, 
 
 When listening flocks the powerful call obey'd. — Elphinston. 
 
 ' The satisfaction received from pastoral writing not only begins 
 early, but lasts long ; we do not, as we advance into the intel- 
 
 lectual world, throw it away among other childish amusements and 
 pastimes, but willingly return to it at any hour of indolence and re- 
 laxation. The images of true pastoral have always the power of 
 
384 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 exciting delight, because the works of nature, from which they are 
 drawn, have always the same order and beauty, and continue to 
 force themselves upon our thoughts, being at once obvious to the 
 most careless regard and more than adequate to the strongest 
 reason and severest contemplation. Our inclination to stillness 
 and tranquillity is seldom much lessened by long knowledge of 
 the busy and tumultuous part of the world. In childhood we turn 
 our thoughts to the country as to the origin of pleasure ; we recur 
 to it in old age as a part of rest, and, perhaps, with that secondary 
 and adventitious gladness which every man feels on reviewing 
 those places, or recollecting those occurrences, that contribute to 
 his youthful enjoyments, and bring him back to the prime of life, 
 when the world was gay with the bloom of novelty, when mirth 
 wantoned at his side, and hope sparkled before him/ 
 
 The ' Rambler.'— Vol. I. No. 55. 
 
 Now near to death that comes but slow, 
 Now thou art stepping down below; 
 Sport not among the blooming maids, 
 But think on ghosts and empty shades : 
 What suits with Phcebe in her bloom, 
 Grey C/i/oris, will not thee become ; 
 A bed is different from a tomb. — Creech. 
 
 Parthenia addresses a letter to the ' Rambler' on the sub- 
 ject of the troubles she suffers from the frivolous desire which 
 her mother, a widow, has contracted to practise the follies of 
 youth, the pursuit of which she finds fettered by the presence of 
 Parthenia, whom she is inclined to regard not as her daughter, but 
 as a rival dangerous to the admiration which the elder lady would 
 confine to herself. 
 
 After a year of decent mourning had been devoted to deplor- 
 ing the loss of Parthenia's father — ' All the officiousness of kind- 
 ness and folly was busied to change the conduct of the widow. 
 She was at one time alarmed with censure, and at another fired 
 with praise. She was told of balls where others shone only 
 because she was absent, of new comedies to which all the town 
 was crowding, and of many ingenious ironies by which domestic 
 diligence was made contemptible. 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 
 
 385 
 
 ' It is difficult for virtue to stand alone against fear on one side 
 and pleasure on the other, especially when no actual crime is pro- 
 posed, and prudence itself can suggest many- 
 reasons for relaxation and indulgence. My 
 mamma was at last persuaded to accompany 
 Mrs. Giddy to a play. She was received with 
 a boundless profusion of compliments, and at- 
 tended home by a very fine gentleman. Next 
 day she was, with less difficulty, prevailed on to 
 play at Mrs. Gravely's, and came home gay and 
 lively, for the distinctions that had been paid her awakened her 
 vanity, and good luck had kept her principles of frugality from 
 giving her disturbance. She now made her second entrance into 
 the world, and her friends were sufficiently industrious to prevent 
 any return to her former life ; every morning brought messages of 
 invitation, and every evening was passed in places of diversion, 
 from which she for some time complained that she had rather be 
 absent. In a short time she began to feel the happiness of acting 
 without control, of being unaccountable for her hours, her ex- 
 penses, and her company, and learned by degrees to drop an 
 expression of contempt or pity at the mention of ladies whose 
 husbands were suspected of restraining their pleasures or their 
 play, and confessed that she loved to go and come as she pleased. 
 1 My mamma now began to discover that it was impossible to 
 educate children properly at home. Parents could not have them 
 always in their sight; the society of servants 
 was contagious; company produced boldness 
 and spirit; emulation excited industry; and a 
 large school was naturally the first step into the 
 open world. A thousand other reasons she 
 alleged, some of little force in themselves, but 
 •so well seconded by pleasure, vanity, and idle- 
 ness, that they soon overcame all the remaining 
 principles of kindness and piety, and both I and 
 my brother were despatched to boarding-schools. 
 'When I came home again, after sundry 
 vacations, and, with the usual childish alacrity, 
 was running to my mother's embrace, she stopped 
 me with exclamations at the suddenness and enormity of my 
 
 c c 
 
386 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 growth, having, she said, never seen anybody shoot up so much 
 at my age. 
 
 1 She was sure no other girls spread at that rate, and she hated 
 to have children look like women before their time. I was dis- 
 concerted, and retired without hearing anything more than " Nay, 
 if you are angry, Madam Steeple, you may walk off." 
 
 ' She had yet the pleasure of dressing me like a child, and I 
 know not when I should have been thought fit to change my 
 habit, had I not been rescued by a maiden aunt of my father, 
 who could not bear to see women in hanging-sleeves, and there- 
 fore presented me with brocade for a gown, for which I should 
 have thought myself under great obligations, had she not accom- 
 panied her favour with some hints that my mamma might now 
 consider her age, and give me her earrings, which she had shown 
 long enough in public places. 
 
 ' Thus I live in a state of continual persecution only because I 
 was born ten years too soon, and cannot stop the course of nature 
 or of time, but am unhappily a woman before my mother can 
 willingly cease to be a girl. I believe you would contribute to the 
 happiness of many families if by any arguments, or persuasions, 
 you could make mothers ashamed of rivalling their children; if 
 you could show them that though they may refuse to grow wise 
 they must inevitably grow old, and that the proper solaces of age 
 are not music and compliments, but wisdom and devotion ; that 
 those who are so unwilling to quit the world will soon be driven 
 from it ; and that it is, therefore, their interest to retire while there 
 yet remain a few hours for nobler employments. — I am, &c., 
 
 ' Parthenia.' 
 
 The * Rambler.'— Vol. I. No. 56. 
 
 Valeat res ludicra, si me 
 Palma negata macrum, donata reducit opimum. — Hor, 
 Farewell the stage ; for humbly I disclaim 
 Such fond pursuits of pleasure or of fame, 
 If I must sink in shame, or swell with pride, 
 As the gay psalm is granted or denied. — Francis. 
 
 1 1 am afraid that I may be taxed with insensibility by many of 
 my correspondents, who believe their contributions neglected. 
 And, indeed, when I sit before a pile of papers, of which each is 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 
 
 3§7 
 
 the production of laborious study, and the offspring of a fond 
 parent, I, who know the passions of an author, cannot remember 
 how long they have been in my 
 boxes unregarded without ima- 
 gining to myself the various 
 changes of sorrow, impatience, 
 and resentment which the writers .„ 
 
 must have felt in this tedious "TSff Wsi Jm*g*i%^Jl JjfJ I 
 interval. 
 
 ' These reflections are still more awakened when, upon perusal, 
 I find some of them calling for a place in the next paper, a place 
 which they have never yet obtained ; others writing in a style of 
 superiority and haughtiness as secure of deference and above 
 fear of criticism ; others humbly offering their weak assistance 
 with softness and submission, which they believe impossible to be 
 resisted ; some introducing their compositions with a menace of 
 the contempt he that refuses them will incur; others applying 
 privately to the booksellers for their interest and solicitation ; eveiy 
 one by different ways endeavouring to secure the bliss of publica- 
 tion. I cannot but consider myself placed in a very incommodious 
 situation, where I am forced to repress confidence which it is 
 pleasing to indulge, to repay civilities with appearances of neglect, 
 and so frequently to offend those by whom I was never offended.' 
 
 The ' Rambler.' — Vol. I. No. 59. 
 
 Strangulat inclusus dolor, atque exsestuat intus, 
 Cogitur et vires multiplicare suas. — Ovid. 
 
 ' In vain by secrecy we would assuage 
 Our cares ; conceal'd they gather tenfold rage. — Lewis. 
 
 ' It is common to distinguish men by the 
 names of animals which they are supposed 
 to resemble. Thus a hero is frequently 
 termed a lion, and a statesman a fox ; an 
 extortioner gains the appellation of vul- 
 ture, and a fop the title of monkey. There 
 is also among the various anomalies of 
 character which a survey of the world 
 
 exhibits, a species of beings in human form which may be properly 
 
 marked out as the screech-owls of mankind. 
 
 c c 2 
 
388 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ' These screech-owls seem to be settled in an opinion that the 
 great business of life is to complain, and that they were born for 
 no other purpose than to disturb the happiness of others, to lessen 
 the little comforts and shorten the short pleasures of our condition, 
 by painful remembrances of the past, or melancholy prognostics of 
 the future ; their only care is to crush the rising hope, to damp 
 the kindling transport, and alloy the golden hours of gaiety with 
 the hateful dross of grief and suspicion. 
 
 ' I have known Suspirius, the screech-owl, fifty-eight years and 
 four months, and have never passed an hour with him in which he 
 has not made some attack upon my quiet. When we were first 
 acquainted, his great topic was the misery of youth without riches ; 
 and whenever we walked out together, he solaced me with a long 
 enumeration of pleasures, which, as they were beyond the reach of 
 my fortune, were without the verge of my desires, and which I 
 should never have considered as the objects of a wish, had not his 
 unreasonable representations placed them in my sight. 
 
 ' Suspirius has, in his time, intercepted fifteen authors on their 
 way to the stage ; persuaded nine-and-thirty merchants to retire 
 from a prosperous trade for fear of bankruptcy ; broke off a hun- 
 dred and thirty matches by prognostications of unhappiness ; and 
 enabled the small-pox to kill nineteen ladies by perpetual alarms 
 of the loss of beauty. 
 
 'Whenever my evil star brings us together he never fails to 
 represent to me the folly of my pursuits, and informs me we are 
 much older than when we began our acquaintance; that the 
 infirmities of decrepitude are coming fast upon me ; that whatever 
 I now get I shall enjoy but a little time; that fame is to a man 
 tottering on the edge of the grave of very little importance ; and 
 that the time is at hand when I ought to look for no other plea- 
 sures than a good dinner and an easy chair.' 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 389 
 
 The 'Rambler.'— Vol. I. No. 61. 
 
 Falsus honor juvat, et mendax infamia terret, 
 Quern, nisi mendosum et mendacem ? — Hor. 
 False praise can charm, unreal shame control 
 Whom but a vicious or a sickly soul ? — Francis. 
 
 Ruricola, who dwells in 
 the country, is writing 
 upon the airs which 
 those, whose pursuits 
 take them to London, 
 assume on their return 
 to their more homely 
 associates ; and he re- 
 lates in particular the 
 pretensions of one 
 Frolic, who has en- 
 dowed himself with im- 
 portance upon the mys- 
 terious and self-con- 
 ferred reputation of 
 knowing town. 
 
 ' My curiosity,' de- 
 clares Ruricola, ' has 
 been most engaged by the recital of his own adventures and 
 achievements. I have heard of the union of various characters in 
 single persons, but never met with such a constellation of great 
 qualities as this man's narrative affords. Whatever has distin- 
 guished the hero, whatever has elevated the wit, whatever has 
 endeared the lover, are all concentrated in Mr. Frolic, whose life 
 has, for seven years, been a regular interchange of intrigues, 
 dangers, and waggeries, and who has distinguished himself in 
 every character that can be feared, envied, or admired. 
 
 ' I question whether all the officers in the royal navy can bring 
 together, from all their journals, a collection of so many wonderful 
 escapes as this man has known upon the Thames, on which he has 
 been a thousand times on the point of perishing, sometimes by 
 the terrors of foolish women in the same boat, sometimes by his 
 own acknowledged imprudence in passing the river in the dark, 
 
39° 
 
 TH ACKER A YANA. 
 
 and sometimes by shooting the bridge, under which he has 
 encountered mountainous waves and dreadful cataracts. 
 
 ' Not less has been his temerity by land, nor fewer his hazards. 
 He has reeled with giddiness on the top of the Monument ; he 
 has crossed the street amidst the rush of coaches ; he has been 
 surrounded by robbers without number; he has headed parties at 
 the play-house : he has scaled the windows of every toast of what- 
 ever condition; he has been hunted for whole winters by his 
 rivals; he has slept upon bulks; he has cut chairs; he has bilked 
 coachmen; he has rescued his friends from bailiffs, and has 
 
 knocked down the constable, has bullied the justice, and performed 
 many other exploits that have filled the town with wonder and 
 merriment. 
 
 * But yet greater is the fame of his understanding than his 
 bravery, for he informs us that he is, in London, the established 
 arbitrator on all. points of honour, and the decisive judge of all 
 performances of genius ; that no musical performer is in reputa- 
 tion till the opinion of Frolic has ratified his pretensions ; that the 
 theatres suspend their sentence till he begins to clap or hiss, in 
 which all are proud to concur; that no public entertainment has 
 failed or succeeded but because he opposed or favoured it ; that 
 all controversies at the gaming-table are referred to his determina- 
 tion ; that he adjusts the ceremonial at every assembly, and pre- 
 scribes every fashion of pleasure or of dress. 
 
 * With every man whose name occurs in the papers of the 
 day he is intimately acquainted, and there are very few points 
 either on the state or army of which he has not more or less 
 influenced the disposal, while he has been very frequently con- 
 sulted both upon peace and war.' 
 
 Ruricola concludes by inquiring whether Mr. Frolic is really 
 so well known in London as he pretends, or if he shall denounce 
 him as an impostor. 
 
THE 'RAMBLER. 
 
 39* 
 
 The < Rambler.'— Vol. II. No. 89. 
 
 Duke est desipere in loco. 
 
 6 There is nothing more fatal to a man whose business is to 
 think than to have learned the art of regaling his mind with those 
 airy gratifications. Other vices 
 or follies are restrained by 
 fear, reformed by admonition, 
 or rejected by conviction, 
 which the comparison of our 
 conduct with that of others 
 may in time produce. But 
 this invisible riot of the mind, 
 
 this secret prodigality of being, is secure from detection and fear- 
 less from reproach. The dreamer retires to his apartments, shuts 
 out the cares and interruptions of mankind, and abandons himself 
 to his own fancy ; new worlds rise up before him, one image is 
 followed by another, and a long succession of delights dances 
 
392 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 around him. He is at last called back to life by nature or by 
 custom, and enters peevish into society because he cannot model 
 it to his own will. He returns from his idle excursions with the 
 asperity, though not with the knowledge, of a student, and hastens 
 again to the same felicity with the eagerness of a man bent upon 
 the advancement of some favourite science. The infatuation 
 strengthens by degrees, and, like the poison of opiates, weakens 
 his powers without any external symptom of malignity.' 
 
 The ' Rambler.'— Vol. II. No. ioo. 
 
 * It is hard upon poor creatures, be they ever so mean, to deny 
 them those enjoyments and liberties which are equally open for 
 all. Yet, if servants were taught to go to church 
 on Sunday, spend some part of it in reading, or 
 receiving instruction in a family way, and the rest 
 in mere friendly conversation, the poor wretches 
 would infallibly take it into their heads that they 
 were obliged to be sober, modest, diligent, and 
 faithful to their masters and mistresses.' 
 
 The 'Rambler.' — Vol. II. No. 114. 
 
 When man's life is in debate, 
 The judge can ne'er too long deliberate. — Dryden. 
 
 1 The gibbet, indeed, certainly disables those who die 
 upon it from infesting the community; but their 
 death seems not to contribute more to the reforma- 
 tion of their associates than any other method of 
 separation. A thief seldom passes much of his time 
 in recollection or anticipation, but from robbery 
 hastens to riot, and from riot to robbery ; nor, when 
 the grave closes upon his companion, has any other 
 care than to find another. 
 
 'The frequency of capital punishments, there- 
 fore, rarely hinders the commission of a crime, but 
 naturally and commonly prevents its detection, and 
 is, if we proceed upon prudential principles, chiefly 
 for that reason to be avoided. Whatever may be 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 
 
 393 
 
 urged by casuists or politicians, the greater part of mankind, as 
 they can never think that to pick the pocket and to pierce the 
 heart is equally criminal, will scarcely believe that two malefactors 
 so different in guilt can be justly doomed to the same punishment; 
 nor is the necessity of submitting the conscience to human laws 
 so plainly evinced, so clearly stated, or so generally allowed, but 
 that the pious, the tender, the just, will always scruple to concur 
 with the community in an act which their private judgment cannot 
 approve.' 
 
 The ' Rambler.' — Vol. II. No. 117. 
 
 'Tis sweet thy lab'ring steps to guide 
 To virtue's heights with wisdom well supplied, 
 From all the magazines of learning fortified 
 From thence to look below on human kind, 
 Bewilder'd in the maze of life, and blind. — Dryden. 
 
 ' The conveniences described in these lines may perhaps all be 
 found in a well-chosen garret ; but surely they cannot be supposed 
 sufficiently important to have operated invariably upon different 
 climates, distant ages, and separate nations. 
 
 ' Another cause of the gaiety and sprightliness of the dwellers 
 in garrets is probably the increase of that vertiginous motion with 
 which we are carried round by the diurnal revolution of the earth. 
 The power of agitation upon the spirits is well known ; every man 
 has his heart lightened in a rapid vehicle, or on a galloping horse, 
 and nothing is plainer than that he who towers to the fifth story is 
 whirled through more space by every circumrotation than another 
 that grovels upon the ground-floor. 
 
 1 If you imagine that I ascribe to air and motion effects which 
 they cannot produce, I desire you to consult your own memory, 
 and consider whether you have never known a man acquire repu- 
 
394 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 tation in his garret, which, when fortune or a patron had placed 
 him upon the first floor, he was unable to maintain; and who 
 never recovered his former vigour of understanding till he was 
 restored to his original situation. 
 
 1 That a garret will make every man a wit I am very far from 
 supposing. I know there are some who would continue block- 
 heads even on the summit of the Andes and on the peak of 
 Teneriffe. But let not any man be considered as unimprovable 
 till this potent remedy has been tried ; for perhaps he was formed 
 to be great only in a garret, as the joiner of Aretaeus was rational 
 in no other place but his own shop.' 
 
 The 'Rambler.' — Vol. II. No. 124. 
 
 To range in silence through each healthful wood, 
 And muse what's worthy of the wise and good. 
 
 1 To those who leave the public places of resort in the full 
 bloom of reputation, and withdraw from admiration, courtship, 
 submission, and applause, a rural triumph can give nothing equi- 
 
 valent. The praise of ignorance and the subjection of weakness 
 are little regarded by beauties who have been accustomed to more 
 
THE < RAMBLER? 395 
 
 important conquests and more valuable panegyrics. Nor, indeed, 
 should the powers which have made havoc in the theatres or 
 borne down rivalry in courts be degraded to a mean attack upon 
 the untravelled heir, or ignoble contest with the ruddy milkmaid.' 
 
 The < Rambler.'— Vol. III. No. 142. 
 
 1 Squire Bluster is descended from an ancient family. The 
 estate which his ancestors immemoriably possessed was much 
 augmented by Captain 
 Bluster, who served 
 under Drake in the 
 reign of Elizabeth; and 
 the Blusters, who were 
 before only petty gen- 
 tlemen, have from that 
 time frequently repre- 
 sented the shire in par- 
 liament, being chosen 
 
 to present addresses and give laws at hunting-matches and 
 races. They were eminently hospitable and popular till thg- 
 father of this gentleman died of an election. His lady went to 
 the grave soon after him, and left their heir, then only ten years 
 old, to the care of his grandmother, who would not suffer him to 
 be controlled, because she could not bear to hear him cry ; and 
 never sent him to school, because she was not able to live without 
 his company. She taught him, however, very early to inspect the 
 steward's accounts, to dog the butler from the cellar, and catch 
 the servants at a junket; so that he was at the age of eighteen a 
 complete master of all the lower arts of domestic policy, and had 
 often on the road detected combinations between the coachman 
 and the ostler. 
 
 : Money, in whatever hands, will confer power. Distress will 
 fly to immediate refuge, without much consideration of remote 
 consequences. Bluster had, therefore, on coming of age, a 
 despotic authority in many families, whom he had assisted, on 
 pressing occasions, with larger sums than they can easily repay. 
 The only visits that he makes are to those bouses of misfortune,, 
 where he enters with the insolence of absolute command, enjoys 
 
396 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 the terrors of the family, exacts their obedience, riots at their 
 charge, and in the height of his joys insults the father with 
 menaces and the daughters with scurrilities. 
 
 ' Such is the life of Squire Bluster ; a man in whose power 
 Fortune has liberally placed the means of happiness, but who has 
 defeated all her gifts of their end by the depravity of his mind. 
 He is wealthy without followers ; he is magnificent without wit- 
 nesses ; he hath birth without alliance, and influence without 
 dignity. His neighbours scorn him as a brute; his dependants 
 dread him as an oppressor ; and he has only the gloomy comfort 
 of reflecting that if he is hated he is likewise feared.' 
 
 The 'Rambler.' — Vol. III. No. 153. 
 
 Turba Remi sequitur fortunam, ut semper, et odit 
 Damnatos. — Juv. 
 
 The fickle crowd with fortune comes and goes; 
 Wealth still finds followers, and misfortune foes. 
 
 The writer, who had been adopted by a rich nabob lately 
 returned from the Indies, suddenly found himself deprived of the 
 fortune which it was anticipated would have fallen to his share ; 
 his patron having died without making a will in his protege's 
 favour, and thus a fine estate had gone to another branch of the 
 family. 
 
 1 It was now my part,' writes the victim of this unexpected 
 adversity, 'to consider how I should repair the disappointment. 
 I could not but triumph in my long list of friends, which com- 
 posed almost every name that power or knowledge entitled to 
 eminence, and in the prospect of the innumerable roads to honour 
 and preferment which I had laid open to myself by the wise use 
 of temporary riches. I believed nothing necessary but that I 
 should continue that acquaintance to which I had been so readily 
 admitted, and which had hitherto been cultivated on both sides 
 with equal ardour. 
 
 ' Full of these expectations, I one morning ordered a chair, 
 with an intention to make my usual circle of morning visits. 
 Where I first stopped I saw two footmen lolling at the door, who 
 told me, without any change of posture or collection of counte- 
 nance, that their master was at home ; and suffered me to open 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 
 
 397 
 
 the inner door without assistance. I found my friend standing, 
 and as I was tattling with my former freedom was formally 
 entreated to sit down, but did not stay to be favoured with any 
 further condescensions. 
 
 ' My next experiment was made at the levee of a statesman, 
 who received me with an embrace of tenderness, that he might 
 with more decency publish my change of fortune to the sycophants 
 about. After he had enjoyed the triumph of condolence he turned 
 to a wealthy stockjobber, and left me exposed to the scorn of those 
 who had lately courted my notice and solicited my interest. 
 
 ' I was then set down at the door of another, who upon my 
 entrance advised me with great solemnity to think of some settled 
 provision for life. I left him and hurried away to an old friend, 
 who professed himself unsusceptible of any impressions from pros- 
 perity or misfortune, and begged that he might see me when he 
 was more at leisure. 
 
 1 Of sixty-seven doors at which I knocked in the first week 
 after my appearance in a mourning dress I was denied admission 
 at forty-six ; was suffered at fourteen to wait in the outer room till 
 business was despatched; at four was entertained with a few 
 questions about the weather • at one heard the footman rated for 
 bringing my name ; and at two was informed, in the flow of casual 
 conversation, how much a man of rank degrades himself by mean 
 company. 
 
 ' Such, Mr. Rambler, is the power of wealth, that it commands 
 the ear of greatness and the eye of beauty; gives spirit to the dull 
 and authority to the timorous, and leaves him from whom it 
 departs without virtue and without understanding, the sport of 
 caprice, the scoff of insolence, the slave of meanness, and the 
 pupil of ignorance.' 
 
39§ 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 The ' Rambler.'— Vol. III. No. 170. 
 
 Misella sends her history to the ' Rambler ' as a caution to 
 others who may chance to rely on the fidelity of distant relatives. 
 Her father becoming burdened with a family larger than his means 
 could decently provide for, a wealthy relative had offered to take 
 the charge of one member, the writer, upon himself. 
 
 ' Without knowing for what purpose I was called to my great 
 cousin/ says the unhappy Misella, * I endeavoured to recommend 
 myself by my best courtesy, sang him my prettiest song, told the 
 last story that I had read, and so much endeared myself by my 
 innocence that he declared his resolution to adopt me, and to 
 educate me with his own daughters. 
 
 ' My parents felt the common struggle at the thought of parting, 
 and some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon. They 
 
 
 considered, not without that false estimation of the value of wealth 
 which poverty long continued always produces, that I was raised 
 to higher rank than they could give me, and to hopes of more 
 ample fortune than they could bequeath. My mother sold some 
 of her ornaments to dress me in such a manner as might secure 
 me from contempt at my first arrival, and when she dismissed me 
 pressed me to her bosom with an embrace which I still feel. 
 
 ' My sister carried my finery, and seemed not much to regret 
 our separation ; my father conducted me to the stage-coach with a 
 sort of cheerful tenderness ; and in a very short time I was 
 transported to splendid apartments and a luxurious table, and 
 grew familiar to show, noise, and gaiety. 
 
 ' In three years my mother died, having implored a blessing on 
 her family with her last breath. 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 399 
 
 ' I had little opportunity to indulge a sorrow which there was 
 none to partake with me, and therefore soon ceased to reflect 
 much upon my loss. My father turned all his care upon his other 
 children, whom some fortunate adventures and unexpected lega- 
 cies enabled him, when he died four years after my mother, to 
 leave in a condition above their expectations. 
 
 'I should have shared the increase of his fortunes and had 
 once a portion assigned me in his will, but my cousin assuring. him 
 that all care for me was needless, since he had resolved to place 
 me happily in the world, directed him to divide my part amongst 
 my sisters. 
 
 'Thus I was thrown upon dependence without resource. 
 Being now at an age in which young women are initiated into 
 company, I was no longer to be supported in my former character, 
 but at considerable expense ; so that partly lest appearance might 
 draw too many compliments and assiduities I was insensibly 
 degraded from my equality, and enjoyed few privileges above the 
 head servant but that of receiving no wages.' 
 
 The 'Rambler.'— Vol. III. No. 181. 
 
 Neu fluitem dubise spe pendulus horse. — Hor. 
 
 Nor let me float in fortune's power, 
 Dependent on the future hour. — Francis. 
 
 ' Sir, — As I have passed much of life in disgust and suspense, 
 and lost many opportunities of advantage by a passion which I 
 have reason to believe prevalent in different degrees over a great 
 part of mankind, I cannot but think myself well qualified to warn 
 those who are yet uncaptivated of the danges which they incur by 
 placing themselves within its influence. 
 
 ' In the course of even prosperity I was one day persuaded to 
 buy a ticket in the lottery. At last the day came, my ticket 
 appeared, and rewarded all my care and sagacity with a despicable 
 prize of fifty pounds. 
 
 'My friends, who honestly rejoiced upon my success, were 
 very coldly received ; I hid myself a fortnight in the country that 
 my chagrin might fume away without observation, and then, 
 returning to my shop, began to listen after another lottery. 
 
4oo 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ' With the news of a lottery I was soon gratified, and, having 
 now found the vanity of conjecture and inefncacy of computation, 
 I resolved to take the prize by violence, and 
 therefore bought forty tickets, not omitting, 
 however, to divide them between the even and 
 the odd, that I might not miss the lucky class. 
 Many conclusions did I form, and many experi- 
 ments did I try, to determine from which oi 
 those tickets I might most reasonably expect 
 riches. At last, being unable to satisfy myself 
 by any modes of reasoning, I wrote the numbers 
 upon dice, and allotted five hours every day to 
 the amusement of throwing them in a garret: 
 and examining the event by an exact register, 
 found, on the evening before the lottery was 
 drawn, that one of my numbers had turned up 
 five times more than any of the rest in three 
 hundred and thirty thousand throws. 
 1 This experiment was fallacious ; the first day presented the 
 ticket a detestable blank. The rest came out with different 
 fortune, and in conclusion I lost thirty pounds by this great 
 adventure. 
 
 ' The prize which had been suffered to slip from me filled me 
 with anguish, and, knowing that complaint would only expose me 
 to ridicule, I gave myself up silently to grief, and lost by degrees 
 my appetite and my rest' 
 
 The ' Rambler.'— Vol. III. No. 187. 
 
 Love alters not for us his hard decrees, 
 Not though beneath the Thracian clime we freeze, 
 Or the mild bliss of temperate skies forego, 
 And in mid-winter tread Sithonian snow : — 
 Love conquers all. — Dryden. 
 
 'Anningait and Ajut, a Greenland History. 
 ' In one of the large caves to which the families of Greenland 
 retire together to pass the cold months, and which may be termed 
 their villages or cities, a youth and maid, who came from different 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 
 
 401 
 
 parts of the country, were so much distinguished for their beauty 
 that they were called by the rest of the inhabitants Anningait and 
 Ajut, from their supposed resemblance to their ancestors of the 
 same names who had been transformed of old into the sun and 
 moon. 
 
 'The elegance of Ajut' s dress, and the judicious disposition of 
 her ornaments of coral and shells, had such an effect upon 
 A-mingait that he could no longer be restrained from a declaration 
 of his love. He, therefore, composed a poem in her praise, in 
 which, among other heroic and tender sentiments, he protested 
 that, "She was beautiful as the vernal willow, and fragrant as 
 thyme upon the mountains ; that her fingers were white as the 
 teeth of the morse, and her smile grateful as the dissolution of the 
 ice ; that he would pursue her though she should pass the snows 
 of the midland cliffs, or seek shelter in the caves of the eastern 
 cannibals; that he would tear her from the embrace of the genius 
 of the rocks, snatch her from the paws of Amaroc, and rescue her 
 from the ravine of Hafgufa." 
 
 * This ode being universally applauded, it was expected that 
 Ajut would soon yield to such fervour and accomplishments ; but 
 Ajut, with the natural haughtiness of beauty, expected all the forms 
 of courtship ; and before she would confess herself conquered the 
 sun returned, the ice broke, and the season of labour called all to 
 their employments. 
 
 1 It happened that a tempest drove the fish to a distant part of 
 the coast before Anningait had completed his store ; he therefore 
 entreated Ajut that she would at 
 last grant him her hand and ac- 
 company him to that part of the 
 country whither he was now 
 summoned of necessity. Ajut 
 thought him not yet entitled to 
 such condescension, but pro- 
 posed, as a trial of constancy, 
 that he should return at the end 
 of summer to the cavern where their acquaintance commenced, and 
 there expect the reward of his assiduities. But Anningait tried to 
 soften this resolution : he feelingly represented the uncertainty of 
 existence and the dangers of the passage, and his loneliness when 
 
 D D 
 
4 o2 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 distant from the object of his love. " Consider, Ajut," urged he, 
 " a few summer days, a few winter nights, and the life of man is 
 at an end. Night is the time of ease and festivity, of revels and 
 gaiety ; but what will be the flaming lamp, the delicious seal, or the 
 soft oil without the smile of Ajut ? " 
 
 1 The eloquence of Anningait was vain ; the maid continued 
 inexorable, and they parted with ardent promises to meet again 
 before the night of winter. Anningait, however discomposed by 
 the dilatory coyness of Ajut, was resolved to omit no tokens of 
 amorous respect, and therefore presented her at his departure with 
 the skins of seven white fawns, of five swans, and eleven seals, 
 with three marble lamps, ten vessels of seal-oil, and a large kettle 
 of brass which he had purchased from a ship at the price of half a 
 whale and two horns of sea-unicorns. 
 
 1 Ajut was so much affected by the fondness of her lover, or so 
 much overpowered by his munificence, that she followed him to 
 the seaside ; and, when she saw him enter the boat, wished aloud 
 that he might return with plenty of skins and oil, that neither the 
 mermaids might snatch him into the deeps, nor the spirits of the 
 rocks confine him in their caverns. 
 
 ' Parted from each other, the lovers devoted themselves to the 
 remembrances of their affection ; Anningait devoted himself to 
 fishing and the chase with redoubled energy, that his stores for the 
 future might exceed the expectations of his bride ; and Ajut 
 mourned the absence of her betrothed with ceaseless fidelity. 
 She neglected the ornaments of her person, and, to avoid the 
 solicitations of her lover's rivals, withdrew herself into complete 
 seclusion. Thus passed the months of separation. At last Ajut 
 saw the great boat in which Anningait departed stealing slow and 
 heavy laden along the coast. She ran with all the impatience of 
 affection to catch her lover in her arms, and relate her constancy 
 and sufferings. When the company reached the land they in- 
 formed her that Anningait, after the fishery was ended, being 
 unable to support the slow passage of the vessel of carriage, had 
 set out before them in his fishing-boat, and they expected at their 
 arrival to have found him on shore. 
 
 ' Ajut, distracted at this intelligence, was about to fly into the 
 hills without knowing why, though she was now in the hands of 
 her parents, who forced her back to her own hut and endeavoured 
 
THE 'RAMBLER? 
 
 403 
 
 to comfort her ; but when at last they retired to rest, Ajut went 
 down to the beach, where, finding a fishing-boat, she entered it 
 without hesitation, and, telling those who wondered at her rashness 
 that she was going in search of Anningait, rowed away with great 
 swiftness and was seen no more. 
 
 ' The fate of these lovers gave occasion to various fictions and 
 conjectures. Some are of opinion that they were changed into 
 stars ; others imagine that Anningait was seized in his passage by 
 
 the genius of the rocks, and that Ajut was transformed into a 
 mermaid, and still continues to seek her lover in the deserts of 
 the sea. But the general persuasion is that they are both in that 
 part of the land of souls where the sun never sets, where oil is 
 always fresh, and provisions always warm. The virgins sometimes 
 throw a thimble and a needle into the bay from which the hapless 
 maid departed, and when a Greenlander would praise any couple 
 for virtuous affection he declares that they love like Anningait and 
 Ajut.' 
 
 The ' Rambler.'— Vol. III. No. 191. 
 
 Cereus in vitium flecti, monitoribus asper. — Hor. 
 
 The youth 
 
 Yielding like wax, th' impressive folly bears ; 
 Rough to reproof, and slow to future cares. — Francis. 
 
 ' Dear Mr. Rambler,— I have been four days confined to my 
 chamber by a cold, which has already kept me from three plays, 
 nine sales, five shows, and six card-tables, and put me seventeen 
 visits behind; and the doctor tells my mamma that, if I fret and 
 
404 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 cry, it will settle in my head, and I shall not be fit to be seen these 
 six weeks. But, dear Mr. Rambler, how can I help it ? At this 
 very time Melissa is dancing with the prettiest gentleman ; she 
 will breakfast with him to-morrow, and then run to two auctions, 
 and hear compliments, and have presents ; then she will be 
 dressed and visit, and get a ticket to the play, then go to cards. 
 and win, and come home with two flambeaus before her chair. 
 Dear Mr. Rambler, who can bear it ? 
 
 * * * * # 
 
 'lam at a loss to guess for what purpose they relate such 
 tragic stories of the cruelty, perfidy, and artifices of men, who, if 
 they ever were so malicious and destructive, have certainly now 
 reformed their manners. I have not, since my entrance into the 
 world, found one who does not profess himself devoted to my 
 service, and ready to live or die as I shall command him. They 
 are so far from intending to hurt me that their only contention is, 
 who shall be allowed most closely to attend and most frequently 
 to treat me ; when different places of entertainment or schemes of 
 pleasure are mentioned, I can see the eyes sparkle and the cheeks 
 glow of him whose proposals obtain my approbation ; he then 
 leads me off in triumph, adores my condescension, and congratu- 
 lates himself that he has lived to the hour of felicity. Are these, 
 Mr. Rambler, creatures to be feared? and is it likely that any 
 injury will be done me by those who can enjoy life only while I 
 favour them with my presence ? 
 
 * As little reason can I yet find to suspect them of stratagems 
 and fraud. When I play at cards they never take advantage of 
 any mistakes, nor exact from me a rigorous observation of the 
 game. Even Mr. Shuffle, a grave gentleman, who has daughters 
 older than myself, plays with me so negligently that I am some- 
 times inclined to believe he loses his money by design; and yet 
 he is so fond of play that he says he will one day take me to his 
 house in the country, that we may try by ourselves who can 
 conquer. I have not yet promised him; but when the town grows 
 a little empty I shall think upon it, for I want some trinkets, like 
 Letitia's, to my watch. I do not doubt my luck, but I must study 
 some means of amusing my relations. 
 
 ' For all these distinctions I find myself indebted to that beauty 
 which I was never suffered to hear praised, and of which, there- 
 
THE 'RAMBLER. 
 
 405 
 
 fore, I did not before know the full value. This concealment was 
 certainly an intentional fraud, for my aunts have eyes like other 
 people, and I am every day told that nothing but blindness can 
 escape the influence of my charms. Their whole account of that 
 world which they pretend to know so well has been only one 
 fiction entangled with another; and though the modes of life oblige 
 me to continue some appearances of respect, I cannot think that 
 they who have been so clearly detected in ignorance or imposture 
 have any right to the esteem, veneration, or obedience of, 
 
 1 Sir, yours, 
 
 ' Bellaria/ 
 
406 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 The ' Rambler.'— Vol. III. No. 199. 
 
 Obscure, unprized, and dark the magnet lies, 
 Nor lures the search of avaricious eyes, 
 Nor binds the neck, nor sparkles in the hair, 
 Nor dignifies the great, nor decks the fair. 
 But search the wonders of the dusky stone, 
 And own all glories of the mine outdone, 
 Each grace of form, each ornament of state, 
 That decks the fair or dignifies the great! 
 
 ' To the " Ra?nbler." 
 
 1 Sir, — The curiosity of the present race of philosophers having 
 "been long exercised upon electricity has been lately transferred to 
 magnetism ; the qualities 
 of the loadstone have been 
 investigated, if not with 
 much advantage, yet with 
 great applause; and, as the 
 highest praise of art is to 
 imitate nature, I hope no 
 man will think the makers 
 of artificial magnets cele- 
 brated or reverenced above 
 their deserts. 
 
 ' I have for some time 
 employed myself in the 
 same practice, but with deeper knowledge and more extensive 
 views. While my contemporaries were touching needles and 
 raising weights, or busying themselves with inclination and 
 variation, I have been examining those qualities of magnetism 
 which may be applied to the accommodation and happiness of 
 common life. I have left to inferior understandings the care of 
 conducting the sailor through the hazards of the ocean, and 
 reserved to myself the more difficult and illustrious province of 
 preserving the connubial compact from violation, and setting 
 mankind free for ever from the torments of fruitless vigilance and 
 anxious suspicion. 
 
THE 'RAMBLER: 407 
 
 'To defraud any man of his due praise is unworthy of a 
 philosopher. I shall therefore openly confess that I owe the first 
 hint of this inestimable secret to the Rabbi Abraham Ben Hannase, 
 who, in his treatise of precious stones, has left this account of the 
 magnet : " The calamita, or loadstone, that attracts iron, produces 
 many bad fantasies in man. Women fly from this stone. If, 
 therefore, any husband be disturbed with jealousy, and fear lest 
 his wife converses with other men, let him lay this stone upon her 
 while she is asleep. If she be pure she will, when she wakes, 
 clasp her husband fondly in her arms ; but if she be guilty she will 
 fall out of bed, and run away." 
 
 ' With these hopes I shall, in a short time, offer for sale magnets 
 armed with a particular metallic composition, which concentrates 
 their virtue and determines their agency. 
 
 ' I shall sell them of different sizes, and various degrees of 
 strength. I have some of a bulk proper to be hung at the bed's 
 head, as scarecrows, and some so small 
 that they may be easily concealed. <CX 
 
 Some I have ground into oval forms, A^pNu 
 
 to be hung at watches ; and some, for r£ i| Wfes, 
 
 the curious, I have set in wedding rings, JEnnF\0j^ 
 
 that ladies may never want an attest- ^~M^^^^^^\ 
 
 ation of their innocence. Some I can £*.-. £?3p^^^Kw 
 produce so sluggish and inert that they lm^7;^^^^^^\\ 
 will not act before the third failure, ' t^!'fef|L IIySpIv 
 and others so vigorous and animated ^^,J ^m %%§^ii^ 
 that they exert their influence against ^s&sfe^ 
 
 unlawful wishes, if they have been willingly and deliberately in- 
 dulged. As it is my practice honestly to tell my customers the 
 properties of my magnets I can judge by the choice of the deli- 
 cacy of their sentiments. Many have been contented to spare 
 cost by purchasing only the lowest degree of efficacy, and all have 
 started with terror from those which operate upon the thoughts. 
 One young lady only fitted on a ring of the strongest energy, and 
 declared that she scorned to separate her wishes from her acts, 
 or allow herself to think what she was forbidden to practise. 
 
 *I am, &c, 
 
 ' Hermeticus.' 
 
408 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 thackeray's familiarity with the writings of the 
 satrical essayists — Continued. 
 
 Characteristic Passages from the Works of the 'Early Humourists,' from 
 Thackeray's Library, illustrated by the Author's hand with original Marginal 
 Sketches suggested by the Text — The 'Mirror,' Edinburgh, 1779-80 — 
 Introduction —The Society in which the 'Mirror' and ' Lounger' originated 
 — Notice of Contributors — Paragraphs and Pencillings. 
 
 Preface to the ' Mirror.' 
 
 The circumstances which led to the publication of the ' Mirror/ 
 by a certain society of friends in Edinburgh, are set forth in the 
 concluding paper of that work, No. no, which originally appeared 
 May 27, 1780. The dying speech of the Scotch essayist forms a 
 suitable introduction to the series. 
 
 Extremum concede laborem. — Virg. Ed. x. I. 
 
 ' As, at the close of life, people confess the secrets and explain 
 the mysteries of their conduct, endeavour to do justice to those 
 with whom they have had dealings, and to die in peace with all 
 the world ; so in the concluding number of a periodical publi- 
 cation, it is usual to lay aside the assumed name, or fictitious cha- 
 racter, to ascribe the different papers to their true authors, and to 
 wind up the whole with a modest appeal to the candour or indul- 
 gence of the public. 
 
 1 In the course of these papers the author has not often ven- 
 tured to introduce himself, or to give an account of his own situa- 
 tion ; in this, therefore, which is to be the last, he has not much 
 to unravel on that score. From the narrowness of the place of its 
 appearance, the ' Mirror ' did not admit of much personification 
 of its editor ; the little disguise he has used has been rather to 
 
THE 'MIRROR. 
 
 409 
 
 conceal what he was than to give himself out for what he was 
 
 1 The idea of publishing a periodical paper in Edinburgh took 
 its rise in a company of gentlemen whom particular circumstances 
 
 of connection brought frequently together. Their discourse often 
 turned upon subjects of manners, of taste, and of literature. By 
 one of these accidental resolutions, of which the origin cannot 
 easily be traced, it was determined to put their thoughts into 
 
410 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 writing, and to read them for the entertainment of each other. 
 Their essays assumed the form, and soon after some one gave 
 them the name, of a periodical publication ; the writers of it were 
 naturally associated, and their meetings increased the importance 
 as well as the number of their productions, Cultivating letters in 
 the midst of business, composition was to them an amusement 
 only; that amusement was heightened by the audience which this 
 society afforded ; the idea of publication suggested itself as pro- 
 ductive of still higher entertainment. 
 
 ' It was not, however, without diffidence that such a resolution 
 was taken. From that and several other circumstances it was 
 thought proper to observe the strictest secrecy with regard to the 
 authors ; a purpose in which they have been so successful that, at 
 this very moment, the very publisher of the work knows only one 
 of their number, to whom the conduct of it was entrusted.' 
 
 The members of the society alluded to in the last number of 
 the ' Mirror' afterwards carried on the ' Lounger.' They were Mr. 
 R. Cullen, Mr. M'Leod Bannatyne, Mr. George Ogilvy, Mr. Alex. 
 Abercromby, and Mr. W. Craig, advocates, the last two of whom 
 were afterwards appointed Judges of the Court of Session in Scot- 
 land; Mr. George Home, one of the principal clerks of that 
 court ; and Mr. H. Mackenzie, of the Exchequer of Edinburgh. 
 
 Of these Mr. Ogilvy, though with abilities and genius abun- 
 dantly capable of the task, never contributed to the ' Mirror,' and 
 the society had to lament his death before the appearance of the 
 * Lounger.' None of its members, Mr. Mackenzie excepted, 
 whose nama is sufficiently known as an author, had ever before 
 been concerned in any publication. To Mr. Mackenzie, there- 
 fore, was entrusted the conducting the work, and he alone had 
 any communication with the editor, to whom the other members 
 of the society were altogether unknown. Secrecy was an object 
 of much importance to a work of this sort; and during the publi- 
 cation of both these performances it was singularly well attained. 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie's papers were the most numerous. He is stated 
 to have been the author of Nos. 2, 5, 7, n, 12, 14, 16 (the latter 
 part of 17), 21, 23, 25, 30, 32, 34 (part of 35), 38, 40, 41, 42, 43> 
 44, 49> 53, 54 (part of 56), 61, 64, 72, 78, 80, 81, 84, the poem in 
 85 (part of 89), 91, 92, 93 (part of 96), 99, 100, 101 (parts of 102,. 
 103), 105, 107, 108, 109, and no. 
 
THE 'MIRROR: 
 
 411 
 
 The contributions of correspondents were of considerable 
 assistance to the success of the ' Mirror.' Of these Lord Hailes 
 was the most industrious; among other promoters we find the 
 names of Mr. Richardson, Professor of Humanity at Glasgow; 
 Mr. Fraser Tytler, Advocate and Professor of History in the 
 University of Edinburgh ; Mr. D. Hume, Professor of Scots Laws 
 at Edinburgh, nephew of the celebrated David Hume ; D. Beattie ; 
 Cosmo Gordon, Esq., one of the Barons of Exchequer in Scot- 
 land; Mr. W. Strahan, of London, the King's printer; Mr. Baron 
 Gordon, &c. 
 
 a£z 
 
412 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 THE 'MIRROR.' 
 
 A Periodical Paper Published at Edinburgh in the Years 
 1779 and 1780. 
 
 Veluti in speculo. 
 
 < No child ever heard from its nurse the story of " Jack the 
 Giant Killer's Cap of Darkness " without envying the pleasures of 
 invisibility. 
 
 ' This power is, in some degree, possessed by the writer of an 
 anonymous paper. He can at least exercise it for a purpose for 
 which people would be most apt to use the privilege of being 
 invisible : to wit, that of hearing what is said of himself. 
 
 * A few hours after the publication of my first number, I sallied 
 forth, with all the advantages of invisibility, to hear an account of 
 myself and my paper. 
 
 'A smart-looking young man, in green, said he was sure it 
 would be very satirical; his companion, in scarlet, was equally 
 certain that it would be very stupid. But with this last prediction 
 I was not much offended, when I discovered that its author had 
 not read the first number, but only inquired of Mr. Creech where 
 it was published. 
 
 ' A plump round figure, near the fire, who had just put on his 
 spectacles to examine the paper, closed the debate by observing, 
 
 with a grave aspect, that, as the 
 author was anonymous, it was 
 proper to be very cautious in 
 talking of the performance. After 
 glancing over the pages, he said 
 he could have wished they had 
 set apart a corner for intelligence 
 from America ; but, having taken 
 off his spectacles, wiped, and put them into their case, he said, 
 with a tone of discovery, he had found out the reason why there 
 was nothing of that sort in the " Mirror " — it was in order to save 
 the tax upon newspapers.' 
 
THE 'MIRROR: 413 
 
 The ' Mirror.' — Vol. I. No. 4. 
 
 Meliora pii docuere parentes. 
 
 The following is an extract from a letter, addressed by a parent 
 to the editor, on the evil consequences of sending youths to Paris 
 to finish their education : — 
 
 1 When the day of their return came, my girl, who had been 
 constantly on the look-out, ran to tell me she saw a postchaise 
 driving to the gate. But, judge of my astonishment when I saw 
 two pale, emaciated figures get out of the carriage, in their dress 
 and looks resembling monkeys rather than human creatures. 
 What was still worse, their manners were more displeasing than 
 their appearance. When 
 my daughter ran up, with 
 tears of joy in her eyes, to 
 embrace her brother, he 
 held her from him, and 
 burst into an immoderate 
 fit of laughter at some- 
 thing in her dress that ap- 
 peared to him ridiculous. He was joined in the laugh by his 
 younger brother, who was pleased, however, to say that the girl 
 was not ill-looking, and, when taught to put on her clothes, and to 
 use a little rouge, would be tolerable. 
 
 ' Mortified as I was at this impertinence, the partiality of a 
 parent led me to impute it, in a great measure, to the levity 
 of youth ; and I still flattered myself that matters were not so 
 bad as they appeared to be. In these hopes I sat down to dinner. 
 But there the behaviour of the young gentlemen did not, by any 
 means, tend to lessen my chagrin. There was nothing at table 
 they could eat ; they ran out in praise of French cookery, and 
 seemed even to be adepts in the science ; they knew the com- 
 ponent ingredients of most fashionable ragouts and fricandeaus, 
 and were acquainted with the names and characters of the most 
 celebrated practitioners of the art in Paris. 
 
 1 In short, it was found these unfortunate youths had returned 
 
414 
 
 TH ACKER A YANA. 
 
 ignorant of everything they ought to know, their minds corrupted, 
 their bodies debilitated, and their vanity and conceit making them 
 incapable of listening to reason or advice.' 
 
 The 'Mirror/ — Vol. I. No. 10. 
 
 Mr. Fleetwood, a man of excessive refinement and delicacy 
 of taste, is described as paying visits to his friends in the country. 
 But the pleasures which might possibly be derived from this 
 exercise are marred by his false sensibility. 
 
 ' Our next visit was to a gentleman of liberal education and 
 .elegant manners, who, in the earlier part of his life, had been 
 much in the polite world. Here Mr. Fleetwood expected to find 
 pleasure and enjoyment sufficient to atone for his two previous 
 experiences which were far from agreeable ; but here, too, he was 
 disappointed. 
 
 1 Mr. Selby, for that was our friend's name, had been several 
 years married. His family increasing, he had retired to the 
 country, and, renouncing the bustle of the world, had given him- 
 self up to domestic enjoyments; his time and attention were 
 devoted chiefly to the care of his children. The pleasure which 
 he himself felt in humouring all their little fancies made him forget 
 how troublesome that indulgence might be to others. 
 
 ' The first morning we were at his house, when Mr. Fleetwood 
 came into the parlour to breakfast, all the places at table were 
 
 occupied by the children; 
 it was necessary that one 
 of them should be displaced 
 to make room for him ; 
 and, in the disturbance 
 which this occasioned, a 
 teacup was overturned, and 
 scalded the finger of Mr. 
 Selby's eldest daughter, a child about seven years old, whose 
 whimpering and complaining attracted the whole attention during 
 breakfast. That being over, the eldest boy came forward with a 
 book in his hand, and Mr. Selby asked Mr. Fleetwood to hear 
 him read his lesson. Mrs. Selby joined in the request, though 
 both looked as if they were rather conferring a favour on their 
 
THE 'MIRROR: 4*5 
 
 guest. The eldest had no sooner finished, than the youngest boy- 
 presented himself; upon which his father observed that it would 
 be doing injustice to Will not to hear him as well as his elder 
 brother Jack, and in this way was my friend obliged to spend the 
 morning in performing the office of a schoolmaster to the children 
 in succession. 
 
 'Mr. Fleetwood liked a game at whist, and promised himself 
 a party in the evening, free from interruption. Cards were accord- 
 ingly proposed, but Mrs. Selby observed that her little daughter, 
 who still complained of her scalded finger, needed amusement as 
 much as any of the company. In place of cards, Miss Harriet 
 insisted on the " game of the goose." Down to it we sat, and to a 
 stranger it would have been not unamusing to see Mr. Fleetwood, 
 with his sorrowful countenance, at the " royal and pleasant game 
 of the goose," with a child of seven years old. It is unnecessary 
 to dwell longer on particulars. During all the time we were at 
 Mr. Selby's the delighted parents were indulging their fondness, 
 while Mr. Fleetwood was repining and fretting in secret.' 
 
 The ' Mirror.'— Vol. I. No. 117. 
 
 Inanit veteres statuas Damasippus emendo. — Hor. 
 
 A wife is writing to the ' Mirror ' upon a new affliction which 
 has attacked her husband. He happened to receive a crooked 
 shilling in exchange for some of his goods (the husband was a 
 grocer), and a virtuoso informed him that it was a coin of Alexander 
 III., of great rarity and value, whereupon the good man became 
 seized with a passion for collecting curiosities. 
 
 ' His taste,' says the wife's letter, < ranges from heaven above 
 to the earth beneath, and to the waters under the earth. Every 
 production of nature or of art, remarkable either for beauty or 
 deformity, but particularly if either scarce or old, is now the object 
 of my husband's avidity. The profits of our business, once con- 
 siderable, but now daily diminishing, are expended, not only on 
 coins, but on shells, lumps of different coloured stones, dried 
 butterflies, old pictures, ragged books, and worm-eaten parchments. 
 
 * Our house, which it was once my highest pleasure to keep in 
 order, it would be now equally vain to attempt cleaning as the ark 
 
416 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 of Noah. The children's bed is supplied by an Indian canoe ; 
 and the poor little creatures sleep three of them in a hammock, 
 slung up to the roof between a stuffed crocodile and the skeleton of 
 a calf with two heads. Even the commodities of our shop have 
 been turned out to make room for trash and vermin. Kites, owls, 
 and bats are perched upon the top of our shelves ; and it was but 
 
 yesterday that, putting my hand into a glass jar that used to 
 contain pickles, I laid hold of a large tarantula in place of a 
 mangoe. 
 
 ' In the bitterness of my soul, Mr. Mirror, I have been often 
 tempted to revenge myself on the objects of my husband's phrenzy, 
 by burning, smashing, and destroying them without mercy ; but, 
 besides that such violent procedure might have effects too dreadful 
 upon a brain which, I fear, is already much unsettled, I could not 
 take such a course without being guilty of a fraud to our creditors, 
 several of whom will, I believe, sooner or later, find it their only 
 means of reimbursement to take back each man his own monsters.' 
 
 The ' Mirror.' — Vol. I. No. 25. 
 
 The ' Mirror ' prints a letter upon the grievances felt 
 by the families of men of small fortunes when asso- 
 ciated with those enjoying great ones. 
 
 'You will remember, sir, my account of a visit 
 which my daughters paid to a great lady in our 
 neighbourhood, and of the effects which that visit 
 had upon them. I was beginning to hope that time, 
 and the sobriety of manners which home exhibited, would restore 
 
THE 'MIRROR: 
 
 4i7 
 
 them to their former situation, when, -unfortunately, a circumstance 
 
 happened still more fatal to me than their expedition to . 
 
 This, sir, was the honour of a visit from the great lady in return. 
 
 ' I was just returning from the superintendence of my ploughs, 
 in a field I have lately enclosed, when I was met, on the green 
 before my door, by a gentleman (for such I took him to be) 
 mounted upon a very handsome gelding, who asked me, by the 
 appellation of honest friend, if this was not Mr. Homespun's ; and, 
 in the same breath, whether the ladies were at home. I told him 
 my name was Homespun, the house was mine, and my wife and 
 
 daughters were, I believed, within. Upon this, the youngman, 
 pulling off his hat, and begging my pardon for calling me honest, 
 
 said he was despatched by Lady , with her compliments, to 
 
 Mrs. and Misses Homespun, and that, if convenient, she intended 
 
 herself the honour of dining with them, on her return from B 
 
 Park (the seat of another great and rich lady in our neighbour- 
 hood). 
 
 ' I confess, Mr. Mirror, I was struck somewhat of a heap with 
 the message ; and it would not, in all probability, have received 
 an immediate answer, had it not been overheard by my eldest 
 daughter, who had come to the window on the appearance of a 
 stranger. 
 
 ' "Mr. Papillot," said she, immediately, " I rejoice to see you; 
 
 E E 
 
4 i8 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 I hope your lady and all the family are well." " Very much at 
 your service, ma'am," he replied, with a low bow; "my lady sent 
 me before, with the offer of her best compliments, and that, if 
 convenient " — and so forth, repeating his words to me. " She 
 does us infinite honour," said my young madam ; " let her lady- 
 ship know how happy her visit will make us ; but, in the mean- 
 time, Mr. Papillot, give your horse to one of the servants, and 
 come in and have a glass of something after your ride." " I am 
 afraid," answered he (pulling out his right-hand watch, for, would 
 you believe it, sir, the fellow had one in each fob), " I shall hardly 
 have time to meet my lady at the place she appointed me." On a 
 second invitation, however, he dismounted, and went into the 
 house, leaving his horse to the care of the servants; but the 
 servants, as my daughter very well knew, were all in the fields at 
 work ; so I, who have a liking for a good horse, and cannot bear 
 to see him neglected, had the honour of putting Mr. Papillot's 
 horse in the stable myself.' 
 
 The arrival of the distinguished party completely upset Mr. 
 Homespun's establishment, turned the heads of his entire family, 
 and annihilated the effect of all his good teachings. 
 
 The ' Mirror.'— Vol. I. No. 50. 
 
 ' It was formerly one of those national boasts which are always 
 allowable, and sometimes useful, that the ladies of Scotland pos- 
 sessed a purity of conduct and delicacy of manners beyond that of 
 most other countries. Free from the bad effects of overgrown 
 fortunes, and from the dissipated society of an overgrown capital, 
 their beauty was natural and their minds were uncorrupted. 
 
 1 Formerly a London journey was attended with some difficulty 
 and danger, and posting thither was an achievement as masculine 
 as a fox-chase. Now the goodness of the roads and the conveni- 
 ence of the vehicles render it a matter of only a few days' mode- 
 rate exercise for a lady; Facilis descensus Averni\ our wives and 
 daughters are carried thither to see the world, and we are not to 
 wonder if some of them bring back only that knowledge of it 
 which the most ignorant can acquire and the most forgetful retain. 
 That knowledge is communicated to a certain circle on their 
 return ; the imitation is as rapid as it is easy ; they emulate the 
 
THE 'MIRROR: 
 
 419 
 
 English, who before have copied the French; the dress, the 
 phrase, and the morale of Paris is transplanted first to London, 
 and thence to Edinburgh ; and even the sequestered regions of the 
 country are sometimes visited in this northern progress of politeness. 
 'It will be said, perhaps, that there is often a levity of 
 behaviour without any criminality of conduct; that the lady who 
 
 talks always loud, and sometimes free, goes much abroad, or 
 keeps a crowd of company at home, rattles in a public place with 
 a circle of young fellows, or flirts in a corner with a single one, 
 does all this without the smallest bad intention, merely as she 
 puts on a cap and sticks it with feathers because she has seen it 
 done by others whose rank and fashion entitle them to her imita- 
 tion.' 
 
 The 'Mirror.'— Vol. II. No. 44. 
 
 Sit mihi fas audita loqui. 
 
 ' Passing the Exchange a few days ago, I perceived a little 
 before me a short, plump-looking man, seeming to set his watch 
 by St. Giles's clock, which had just 
 then struck two. On observing him 
 more closely, I recognised Mr. 
 Blubber, with whom I had been ac- 
 quainted at the house of our mutual 
 friend Mr. Bearskin. 
 
 ' He recollected me, and, shaking 
 me cordially by the hand, told me 
 he was just returned safe from his 
 
 journey to the Highlands, and had been regulating his watch by 
 our town clock, as he found the sun did not go exactly in the 
 
 E E 2 
 
4 20 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Highlands as it did in the Low country. He added, that if I 
 would come and eat a Welsh rare-bit and drink a glass of punch 
 with him and his family that evening, at their lodgings hard by, 
 they would give me an account of their expedition. 
 
 < When I went to their lodgings in the evening, I could not 
 help making one preliminary observation, that it was much too 
 early in the season for visiting the country to advantage ; but to 
 this Mr. Blubber had a very satisfactory answer : they were resolved 
 to complete their tour before the new tax upon post-horses should 
 be put in execution. 
 
 ' The first place they visited after they left Edinburgh was 
 Carron, which Mr. Blubber seemed to prefer to any place he had 
 seen; but the ladies did not appear to have relished it much. 
 The mother said, " She was like to have fell into a fit at the noise 
 of the great bellows." Miss Blubber agreed that it was monstrous 
 frightful indeed. Miss Betsy had spoiled her petticoat in getting 
 in, and said it was a nasty place, not fit for genteel people, in her 
 opinion. Blubber put on his wisest face, and observed that 
 women did not know the use of them things. There was much 
 the same difference in their sentiments with regard to the Great 
 Canal. Mr. Blubber took out a piece of paper, on which he 
 had marked down the lockage duty received in a week there ; he 
 shook his head, however, and said he was sorry to find the shares 
 below par. 
 
 1 Taymouth seemed to strike the whole family. The number 
 and beauty of the temples were taken particular notice of; nor 
 was the trimness of the walks and hedges without commendation. 
 Miss Betsy Blubber declared herself charmed with the shady walk 
 by the side of the Tay, and remarked what an excellent fancy it 
 was to shut out the view of the river, so that you might hear the 
 stream without seeing it. Air. Blubber, however, objected to the 
 vicinity of the hills, and Mrs. Blubber to that of the lake, which she 
 was sure must be extremely unwholesome. 
 
 i But, however various were the remarks of the family on the 
 particulars of their journey in detail, I found they had perfectly 
 settled their respective opinions of travelling in general. The 
 ladies had formed their conclusion that it was monstrous pleasant, 
 and the gentleman his that it was monstrous dear.' 
 
THE 'MIRROR: 
 
 421 
 
 The ' Mirror.'— Vol. II. No. 50. 
 
 A correspondent is addressing the ' Mirror ' on the ill effect - 
 of listlessness, indolence, and an aversion to profitable exertion. 
 The writer describes his visit to a barrister without practice, who, 
 having been left a small competence, had relinquished his pro- 
 fession to engage in literary pursuits. 
 
 Mr. Mordant, the literary recluse, on his friend's arrival, was: 
 discovered cultivating his kitchen garden. The visitor is conducted 
 through the grounds, which had been laid out in accordance with 
 the owner's taste. 
 
 ' Near a village, on our way homewards, we met a set of coun- 
 trymen engaged at cricket, and soon after a marriage company 
 dancing the bride's dance upon the green. My friend, with a degree 
 
 of gaiety and alacrity which I had never before seen him display, 
 not only engaged himself, but compelled me likewise to engage in 
 the exercise of the one and the merriment of the other. In a field 
 before his door an old horse, blind at one eye, came up to us at 
 his call, and ate the remainder of the grains from his hand from 
 which he had previously fed a flock of tame pigeons. 
 
 'Our conversation for that evening, relating chiefly to the 
 situation of our common friends, memory of former scenes, and 
 other subjects as friends naturally converse about after a long 
 absence, afforded me little opportunity of gratifying my curiosity. 
 Next morning I arose at my wonted early hour, and stepping into 
 his study found it unoccupied. Upon examining a heap of books 
 and papers that lay confusedly mingled on the table and the floor, 
 I was surprised to find that by much the greater part of them, in- 
 stead of metaphysics and morals (the branches connected with his 
 scheme of writing), treated of Belles Lettres, or were calculated 
 
422 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 merely for amusement. There was, besides, a journal of Ins oc- 
 cupations for several weeks, from which, as it affords a picture of 
 his situation, I transcribe a part: — 
 
 ' " Thursday >, eleven at flight. — Went to bed : ordered my servant 
 to wake me at six, resolving to be busy all next day. 
 
 '" Friday morning. — Waked a quarter before six; fell asleep 
 again, and did not wake till eight. 
 
 ' " Till nine read the first act of Voltaire's 'Mahomet,' as it was 
 too late to begin serious business. 
 
 t « Ten. — Having swallowed a short breakfast, went out for a 
 moment in my slippers. The wind having left the east, am engaged 
 by the beauty of the day to continue my walk. Find a situation by 
 the river where the sound of my flute produced a very singular and 
 
 beautiful echo — make a stanza and a half by way of an address to it 
 — visit the shepherd lying ill of a low fever, find him somewhat better 
 (mem.— to send him some wine) — meet the parson, and cannot avoid 
 asking him to dinner— returning home find my reapers at 7Vork — 
 superintend them in the absence of John, whom I send to i?iform the 
 house of the parson's visit — read, in the meantime, part of Thom- 
 son's 'Seasons,' which I had with me— from one to six plagued with 
 the parson's news and stories — take up 'Mahomet' to put me in 
 good humour ; finish it, the time allotted for serious study being 
 elapsed— at eight, applied to for advice by a poor countryman, who 
 had been oppressed; cannot say as to the law; give him some money — 
 walk out at sunset to consider the causes of the pleasure arising from 
 it — at nine, sup, and sit till eleven hearing my nephew read, and 
 conversing with my mother, who was remarkably well and cheerful 
 — go to bed. 
 
 ' " Saturday. Some company arrived— to be filled up to-morrow n 
 
THE 'MIRROR. 423 
 
 — (for that and the two succeeding days there was no further entry 
 in the journal). 
 
 ' " Tuesday. — Waked at seve?i; but, the weather being rainy and 
 threatening to confine me all day, lay till nine — ten, breakfasted and 
 read the 7iewspapcrs ; very dull and drowsy — eleven, day clears up, 
 and I resolve on a short ride to clear my heady 
 
 'A few days' residence with him showed me that his life was in 
 reality, as is here represented, a medley of feeble exertions, 
 indolent pleasures, secret benevolence, and broken resolutions. 
 Nor did he pretend to conceal from me that his activity was not 
 now so constant as it had been ; but he insisted that he still 
 
 could, when he thought proper, apply with his former vigour, and 
 flattered himself that these frequent deviations from his plan of 
 employment, which in reality were the fruit of indolence and 
 weakness, arose from reason and conviction. 
 
 ' ''After all," said he to me one day, when I was endeavouring 
 to undeceive him, "after all, granting .what you allege, if I be 
 happy, and really am so, what mo7'e could activity, fame, or prefe?'- 
 ment bestow upon me V 
 
 1 After a stay of some weeks I departed, convinced that his 
 malady was past a cure, and lamenting that so much real excellence 
 and ability should be thus in a great measure lost to the world, as 
 well as to their possessor, by the attendance of a single fault/ 
 
424 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 The ' Mirror/ — Vol. II. No. 56. 
 
 The following letter is from a dweller in the country, an 
 ardent lover of retirement, who is enchanted with the simplicity of 
 life and incident to be encountered in a pastoral retreat: — 
 
 ' My dear Sir, — The moment I found myself disengaged from 
 business, you know I left the smoke and din of your blessed city, 
 and hurried away to pure skies and quiet at my cottage. 
 
 ' You must have heard that our spring was singularly pleasant; 
 but how pleasant it was you could not feel in your dusky atmo- 
 sphere. My sister remarked that it had a faint resemblance to the 
 
 spring of . Although I omit the year, you may believe that 
 
 several seasons have passed away since that animating era recol- 
 lected by my sister. " Alas ! my friend," said I, " seasons return, 
 but it is only to the young and the fortunate." A tear started in 
 her eye, yet she smiled and resumed her tranquillity. 
 
 ' We sauntered through the kitchen-garden, and admired the 
 rapid progress of vegetation. " Everything is very forward," said 
 my sister; "we must begin to bottle gooseberries to-morrow." 
 "Very forward, indeed," answered I. "This reminds me of the 
 young ladies whom I have seen lately — they seem forward enough, 
 though a little out of season too." 
 
THE 'MIRROR: 
 
 425 
 
 ' It was a poor witticism, but it lay in my way, and I took it 
 up. Next morning the gardener came to our breakfasting-parlour. 
 "Madam," said he, ".all the gooseberries are gone." "Gone!" 
 cried my sister; "and who could be so audacious? Brother, you 
 are a justice of the peace ; do make out a warrant directly to search 
 for and apprehend. We have an agreeable neighbourhood, indeed ! 
 the insolence of the rabble of servants, of low-born, purse-proud 
 folks, is not to be endured." "The gooseberries are not away," 
 continued the gardener; "they are lying in heaps under the 
 bushes; last night's frost, and a hail-shower this morning, have 
 made the crop fail." "The crop fail!" exclaimed my sister; "and 
 where am I to get gooseberries for bottling? " " Come, come. 
 
 my dear," said I; "they tell me that in Virginia pork has a 
 peculiar flavour from the peaches on which the hogs feed ; you 
 can let in the goslings to pick up the gooseberries, and I warrant 
 you that this unlooked-for food will give them a relish far beyond 
 that of any green geese of our neighbours at the castle." 
 "Brother," replied she, "you are a philosopher." I quickly 
 discovered that, while endeavouring to turn one misfortune into 
 jest, I recalled another to her remembrance, for it seems that, by 
 a series of domestic calamities, all her goslings had perished. 
 
 'A very promising family of turkey chicks has at length 
 consoled her for the fate of the goslings, and on rummaging her 
 store-room she finds that she has more bottled gooseberries left of 
 last year than will suffice for the present occasions of our little 
 family. 
 
426 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 1 That people of sense should allow themselves to be affected 
 by the most trivial accident is ridiculous. There are, indeed, 
 some things which, though hardly real evils, cannot fail to vex the 
 wisest and discompose the equanimity of the most patient; for 
 example, that fulsome court paid by the vulgar to rich upstarts, 
 and the daily slights to which decayed nobility is exposed.' 
 
 The 'Mirror.'— Vol. II. No. 68. 
 
 'One morning during my late visit to Mr. Umphraville (the 
 writer of the previous letter on life in the country), as that gentleman, 
 his sister, and I were sitting at breakfast, my old friend John came 
 in, and delivered a sealed card to his master. After putting on his 
 spectacles, and reading it with attention, " Ay," said Umphraville, 
 " this is one of your modern improvements. I remember the time 
 when one neighbour could have gone to dine with another without 
 any fuss or ceremony; but now, forsooth, you must announce 
 your intention so manv days before ; and by-and-by I suppose 
 the intercourse between two country gentlemen will be carried on 
 with the same stiffness of ceremonial that prevails, among your 
 small German princes. Sister, you must prepare a feast on 
 Thursday. Colonel Plum says he intends to have the honour of 
 waiting on us." "Brother," replied Miss Umphraville, "you 
 know we don't deal in giving feasts ; but if Colonel Plum can 
 dine on a plain dinner, without his foreign dishes and French 
 sauces, I can prepare him a bit of good mutton, and a hearty 
 welcome." 
 
 ' On the day appointed, Colonel Plum arrived, and along with 
 him the gay, the sprightly Sir Bobby Button, who had posted 
 down to the country to enjoy two days' shooting at Colonel Plum's, 
 where he arrived just as that gentleman was setting out for Mr. 
 TJmphraville's. Sir Bobby, always easy, and who, in every society, 
 is the same, protested against the Colonel's putting off his visit, 
 and declared he would be happy to attend him. 
 
 'Though I had but little knowledge of Sir Bobby, I was. 
 perfectly acquainted with his character; but to Umphraville he 
 was altogether unknown, and I promised myself some amusement 
 from the contrast of two persons so opposite in sentiments, in 
 manners, and in opinions. 
 
THE 'MIRROR: 
 
 42; 
 
 'When he was presented I observed Umphraville somewhat 
 shocked with his dress and figure, in both of which, it must be 
 confessed, he resembled a monkey of a larger size. Sir Bobby, 
 however, did not allow him much time to contemplate his external 
 appearance, for he immediately, without any preparation or 
 apology, began to attack the old gentleman on the bad taste of his 
 house, and of everything about it. " Why the devil," said he, 
 " don't you enlarge your windows, and cut down those damned 
 hedges and trees that spoil your lawn so miserably? If you would 
 allow me, I would undertake, in a week's time, to give you a 
 clever place." To this Umphraville made no answer ; and indeed 
 the baronet was so fond of hearing himself talk, and chattered 
 away at such a rate, that he neither seemed to desire nor to expect 
 an answer. 
 
 ' On Miss Umphraville's coming in, he addressed himself to 
 her, and, after displaying his dress, and explaining some par- 
 ticulars with regard to it, he began to enter- 
 tain her with an account of the gallantries 
 in which he had been engaged the preceding 
 winter in London. He talked as if no 
 woman could resist his persuasive address 
 and elegant figure — as if London were one 
 great seraglio, and he himself the mighty 
 master of it/ 
 
 The 'Mirror.'— Vol. II. No. 74. 
 
 ' Dreams depend in part on the state of the air ; that which has 
 power over the passions may reasonably be presumed to have 
 power over the thoughts of men. Now, most people know by 
 experience how effectual, in producing joy and hope, are pure 
 skies and sunshine, and that a long continuance of dark weather 
 brings on solicitude and melancholy. This is particularly the case 
 with those persons whose nervous system has been weakened by 
 a sedentary life and much thinking ; and they, as I hinted formerly, 
 are most subject to troublesome dreams. If the external air can 
 affect the motions of so heavy a substance as mercury in the tube 
 of a barometer, we need not wonder that it should affect those 
 finer liquids that circulate through the human body. 
 
.428 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ' How often, too, do thoughts arise during the day which we 
 cannot account for, as uncommon, perhaps, and incongruous, as 
 those which compose our dreams ! Once, after riding thirty miles 
 in a very high wind, I remember to have passed a night of dreams 
 that were beyond description terrible; insomuch that I at last 
 found it expedient to keep myself awake, that I might no more 
 
 be tormented with them. Had I been superstitious, I should 
 have thought that some disaster was impending. But it occurred 
 to me that the tempestuous weather I had encountered the pre- 
 ceding day might be the occasion of all these horrors ; and I have 
 since, in some medical author, met with a remark to justify the 
 conjecture. 
 
 The ' Mirror.'— Vol. III. No. 79. 
 
 Of Pastoral Poetry. 
 
 ' It may be doubted whether the representation of sentiments 
 belonging to the real inhabitants of the country, who are strangers 
 to all refinement, or those entertained by a person of an elegant 
 and cultivated mind, who from choice retires into the country 
 with a view of enjoying those pleasures which it affords, is calcu- 
 lated to produce a more interesting picture. If the former is 
 
THE 'MIRROR. 
 
 429 
 
 recommended by its naivete and simplicity, it may be expected 
 that the latter should have the preference in point of beauty and 
 variety. 
 
 ' The enlargement of the field of pastoral poetry would surely 
 be of advantage, considering how much the common topics of 
 that species of writing are already exhausted. We are become 
 weary of the ordinary sentiments of shepherds, which have been 
 
 ),y 
 
 so often repeated, and which have usually nothing but the variety 
 of expression to recommend them. The greater part of the pro- 
 ductions which have appeared under the name of pastorals are, 
 accordingly, so insipid as to have excited little attention ; which 
 is the more remarkable because the subjects which they treat of 
 naturally interest the affections, and are easily painted in such 
 delusive colours as tend to soothe the imagination by romantic 
 dreams of happiness.' 
 
43o THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 The ' Mirror.'— Vol. III. No. 84. 
 
 'To dispute the right of fashion to enlarge, to vary, or to 
 change the ideas, both of man and woman kind, were a want of 
 good breeding, of which the author of a periodical publication, 
 who throws himself, as it were, from day to day on the protection 
 of the polite world, cannot be supposed capable. 
 
 ' I pay, therefore, little regard to the observations of some 
 antiquated correspondents who pretend to set up what they call 
 the invariable notions of things against the opinions and practice 
 of people of condition. 
 
 ' I am afraid that Edinburgh (talking like a man who has 
 travelled) is but a sort of mimic metropolis, and cannot fairly 
 pretend to the same license of making a fool of itself as London 
 or Paris. The circle, therefore, taking them en gros, of our 
 fashionable people here, have seldom ventured on the same 
 beautiful irregularity in dress, in behaviour, or in manners that 
 is frequently practised by the leaders of ton in the capital of France 
 or England. 
 
 'With individuals the same rule of subordination is to be 
 observed, which, however, persons of extraordinary parts, of 
 genius above their condition, are sometimes apt to overlook. I 
 perceive, in the pit of the play-house, some young men who have 
 got fuddled on punch, as noisy and as witty as the gentlemen in 
 the boxes who have been drinking Burgundy ; and others, who 
 
 have come sober from the counter 
 or writing-desk, give almost as 
 little attention to the play as men 
 of 3,000/. a year. My old school 
 acquaintance, Jack Wou'd-be, 
 t'other morning had a neckcloth 
 as dirty as a lord's, and picked 
 his teeth after dinner, for a quarter 
 of an hour, by the assistance of 
 the little mirror in the lid of his 
 tooth-pick case. I take the first opportunity of giving him a 
 friendly hint, that this practice is elegant only in a man who 
 has made the tour of Europe.' 
 
i 
 
 THE 'MIRROR: 431 
 
 The < Mirror.'— Vol. III. No. 32. 
 
 An Essay upon Figure- Makers. 
 
 1 There is a species of animal, several of whom must have 
 fallen under the notice of everybody present, which it is difficult 
 to class either among the witty or the foolish, the clever or the 
 dull, the wise or the mad, who, of all others, have the greatest 
 propensity to figure-making. Nature seems to have made them 
 up in haste, and to have put the different ingredients, above 
 referred to, into their composition at random. Here there is 
 never wanting a junta of them of both sexes, who are liked or 
 hated, admired or despised, who make people laugh, or set them 
 asleep, according to the fashion of the time or the humour of the 
 audience, but who have always the satisfaction 
 of talking themselves, or of being talked of by 
 others. With us, indeed, a very moderate 
 degree of genius is sufficient for this purpose; 
 in small societies folks are set agape by small 
 circumstances. I have known a lady here 
 contrive to make a figure for half the winter on 
 the strength of a plume of feathers, or the 
 trimming of a petticoat; and a gentleman make shift to be thought 
 a fine fellow, only by outdoing everybody else in the thickness of 
 his queue, or the height of his foretop.' 
 
 The ' Mirror.'— Vol. III. No. 98. 
 
 A student of ' good parts ' has accepted, for one year, the post 
 of resident tutor to a young gentleman with rich expectations. He 
 writes to the ' Mirror,' describing the little progress he can make 
 in the advancement of his pupil's education, owing to the frivolous 
 interruptions which postpone serious application from day to day. 
 Study has been already set aside, on various pretexts, for the first 
 four days of the week. The close of his letter relates how he fared 
 on the Friday and Saturday. 
 
 ' " You must know," says Mrs. Flint, the gentleman's mamma, 
 
43- 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 at breakfast, " that I am assured that Jemmy is very like tht 
 Count de Provence, the King of France's own brother. No\ 
 
 Jemmy is sitting for his picture i 
 Martin, and I thought it would 1 
 right to get the friseur, whom yc 
 saw last night [he has just arrive 
 from Paris], to dress his hair Y\\ 
 the Count de Provence, that M. 
 Martin might make the resemblanc 
 more complete. Jemmy has bee. 
 under his hands since seven o'clock. Oh, here he comes ! 
 " Is it not charming?" exclaimed Miss Juliana. "I wish you. 
 future bride could see you," added the happy mother. My pupil 
 lost in the labyrinth of cross curls, seems to look about fc 
 
 himself. " What a powdered sheep's head have we got here ? " 
 cried Captain Winterbottom. We all went to Mr. Martin's to 
 assist him in drawing Jemmy's picture. On our return, Mrs. 
 Flint discovered that her son had got an inflammation in his right 
 eye by looking steadfastly on the painter. She ordered a poultice 
 
THE 'MIRROR. 1 433 
 
 - f bread and milk, and put him to bed ; so there was no more 
 ilk of " Omnibus in terris " for that evening. 
 
 * My pupil came down to breakfast in a complete suit of 
 ack, with weepers, and a long mourning-cravat. The Count de 
 ovence's curls were all demolished, and there remained not a 
 
 BGtige of powder on his hair. " Bless me !" cried I, "what is the 
 atter?" "Oh, nothing," said Mrs. Flint; "a relation of mine is 
 >be interred at twelve, and Jemmy has got a burial letter. We 
 ight to acknowledge our friends on such melancholy occasions, 
 nean to send Jemmy with the coach-and-six \ it will teach him 
 jw to behave himself in public places." 
 
 ' At dinner my pupil expressed a vehement desire to go to the 
 
 lay. "There is to be ' Harlequin Highlander,' and the blowing 
 
 \ oi the St. Domingo man-of-war," said he; "it will be vastly 
 
 mical and curious." " Why, Jemmy," said Mrs. Flint, " since 
 
 .. is Saturday, I suppose your tutor will have no objection; but 
 
 5 sure to put on your great coat, and to take a chair in coming 
 
 me." " I thought," said I, " that we might have made some pro- 
 
 ress at our books this evening." " Books on Saturday afternoon !" 
 
 ied the whole company; "it was never heard of." I yielded to 
 
 eviction ; for, indeed, it would have been very unreasonable to 
 
 nave expected that he who had spent the whole week in idleness 
 
 o1 ould begin to apply himself to his studies on the evening of 
 
 >.turday.' 
 
 The ' Mirror.'— Vol. III. No. 105. 
 
 The editor is enlarging on certain vanities and fashionable 
 surdities which town people, when they rusticate for change of 
 a •, cannot forbear importing with them. 
 
 * In the first place, I would beg of those who migrate from the 
 City not to carry too much of the town with them into the country. 
 I will allow a lady to exhibit the newest-fashioned cut in her 
 riding-habit, or to astonish a country congregation with the height 
 of her head-dress ; and a gentleman, in like manner, to sporty as 
 they term it, a grotesque pattern of a waistcoat, or to set the 
 children agape by the enormous size of his buckles. These are 
 privileges to which gentlemen and ladies may be thought to have 
 entitled themselves by the expense and trouble of a winter's resi- 
 
 F F 
 
434 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 dence in the capital, 
 of consequence such 
 
 But there is a provoking though a civil sort 
 people are apt to assume in conversation 
 
 which, 
 
 think, goes beyond the just prerogative of 
 township^ and is, a very unfair en- 
 croachment on the natural rights 
 of their friends and relations in the 
 country. They should consider that 
 though there are certain subjects of 
 ton and fashion on which they may 
 pronounce ex cathedra (if I may be 
 allowed so pedantic a phrase) yet 
 that, even in the country, the senses 
 jj of hearing, seeing, tasting, and 
 smelling may be enjoyed to a cer- 
 tain extent, and that a person may like or dislike a 
 new song, a 'new lutestring, a French dish, or an Italian perfume, 
 though such" person has been unfortunate enough to pass last 
 winter at a hundred miles' distance from the metropolis.' 
 
 The < Mirror.'— Vol. III. No. 108. 
 
 The editor is recounting a deeply sentimental story, written 
 with all seriousness, in a style sufficiently burlesque and laughable. 
 It refers to the love of Sir Edward, an English gentleman, who, 
 while travelling in Piedmont, had met with an accidental fall from 
 his horse, and been carried to the residence of a small proprietor 
 named Venoni, for whose daughter the baronet immediately con- 
 ceived a tenderness, which was returned by the fair Louisa, 
 
 ' The disclosure of Sir Edward's passion was interrupted by 
 the untoward arrival of Louisa's parent, accompanied with one of 
 their neighbours, a coarse, vulgar, ignorant man, whose posses- 
 sions led her father to look upon him with favour. Venoni led 
 his daughter aside, told her he had brought her future husband, 
 and that he intended they should be married in a week at furthest. 
 
 1 Next morning Louisa was indisposed, and kept her chamber. 
 Sir Edward was now perfectly recovered. He was engaged to go 
 out with Venoni ; but before his departure he took up his violin, 
 and touched a few plaintive notes on it. They were heard by 
 Louisa. 
 
THE 'MIRROR: 
 
 435 
 
 'In the evening she wandered forth to indulge her sorrows 
 alone, She. had reached a sequestered spot, where some poplars 
 formed a thicket, on the banks of a little stream 
 that watered the valley. A nightingale was 
 perched on one of them, and had already begun 
 f its accustomed song. Louisa sat down on a 
 withered stump, leaning her cheek upon her 
 hand. After a little while, the bird was scared 
 
 from its perch, and flitted from the thicket. Louisa rose from 
 
 the ground, and burst into tears. She turned — and beheld Sir 
 
 Edward. His countenance had much of its former languor ; and, 
 
 when he took her hand, he cast on the earth a melancholy look, 
 
 and seemed unable to speak his feelings. 
 
 ***** 
 
 'Louisa was at last overcome. Her face was first pale as 
 death, then suddenly it was crossed with a crimson blush. " Oh, 
 Sir Edward J" she said. " What — what would you have me do?" 
 He eagerly seized her hand, and led her reluctant to the carriage. 
 They entered it, and, driving off with furious speed, were soon out 
 of sight of those hills which pastured the flocks of the forsaken 
 Venom.' 
 
 F F 2 
 
43$ 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Thackeray as an Illustrator — The ' North British Review ' on Thackeray — 
 Illustrations to ' Men of Character ' — The ' Whitey-brown Paper Magazine ' 
 — ' Comic Tales/ illustrated by Thackeray — Allusions to Caricature Drawing 
 found throughout his writings— Skits on Fashion — Titmarsh on ' Men and 
 Clothes' — Bohemianism in youth — Hatred of conventionality — Sketches of 
 Contemporary Habits and Manners — Imaginative Illustrations to Romances 
 — Skill in Ludicrous Parody — Burlesque of the ' Official Handbook of Court 
 and State.' 
 
 Although Thackeray must go 
 down to posterity as an author, 
 and, of necessity, in that charac- 
 ter will hold his own as one of the 
 very greatest of English writers, 
 his earnest ambition sought oc- 
 cupation in the career of an art- 
 ist, and, as must be familiar to 
 our readers, the desire for this distinction retained its hold on 
 his spirit through life. 
 
 As a humorous designer we must accord him a position of emi- 
 nence, and the characteristic originality of his pencil certainly 
 entitles Thackeray to an honourable place in the front rank of 
 fanciful draughtsmen. 
 
 The illustrations which he supplied in profusion 
 for the embellishment of his own writings have a 
 certain happy harmony with the thread of the story, 
 wmich probably no other hand could have contri- 
 buted. In the field of design, especially of the 
 grotesque order, his imagination was singularly fer- 
 tile, and the little figures with which he loved to 
 appositely point the texts of his week-day sermons 
 and moralities strike forcibly by their ingenuity and 
 by the aptness of their conception. 
 
THACKERAY AS AN ILLUSTRATOR. 437 
 
 * He draws well/ insists the author of an unusually thoughtful 
 and sound paper on Thackeray;* 'his mouths and noses, his feet, 
 his children's heads, all his ugly and queer " mugs," are wonderful 
 for expression and good drawing. With beauty of man or woman 
 he is not so happy; but his fun is, we think, even more abounding 
 and funnier in his cuts than in his words. He is, as far as we can 
 recollect, the only great author who illustrated his own works. 
 This gives a singular completeness to the result. When his pen 
 has said its say, then comes his pencil and adds its own felicity.' 
 
 The article just referred to, which we cannot recommend too 
 highly, is written in a spirit of such just excellence as could only 
 have been arrived at after long personal acquaintance with Thack- 
 eray's higher qualities. The same number contains the facsimile 
 of a remarkably clever and characteristic pen-and-ink drawing in 
 the humourist's best style, which was originally sent to a friend in 
 the North in place of a letter — a practice not unusual with him. 
 One corner of the little picture contains a ' memorandum of ac- 
 count ' to this effect : — 
 
 'To a new plum- coloured coat. 
 < Dr. Goldsmith (Mitre Court). To J. Filby, Dr.' 
 
 Oliver Goldsmith and Dr. Johnson are both passing the shop- 
 front of the unfortunate tailor. The actors in this comedietta are so 
 absorbed in their several occupations — the lexicographer in a 
 book, Goldy in self-admiration — that they don't notice the tailor, 
 who, too, is completely paralysed at the double spectacle of his 
 coat and his debtor ; his assistant is grinning with both his sides — 
 the consequence of the passing of the customer and the dis- 
 comfiture of his master, who looks somewhat of a 'grinder;' while 
 a pair of arch-faced, merry little urchins are copying to the life the 
 shuffle and swagger respectively of the two Doctors. We will let 
 the paper speak for itself : — 
 
 ' This drawing is a good specimen of his work ;' it tells its own 
 story, as every drawing should. Here is the great lexicographer, 
 with his ponderous shuffling tread, his thick lips, his head bent 
 down, his book close to his purblind eyes, himself totus in illo y 
 
 * North British Review, vol. xl., Feb. 1864. 
 
438 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 reading, as he fed, greedily and fast. Beside him simpers the 
 clumsy and inspired Oliver, in his new plum-coloured coat ; his eyes 
 bent down in an ecstasy of delight, for is he not far prouder of his 
 visage — and such a visage ! — and of his coat than of his artless 
 genius ? We all know about that coat, and how Mr. Filby never 
 got paid for it. There he is behind his window, in sartorial 
 posture; his uplifted goose arrested, his eye following wistfully, 
 and not without a sense of glory and dread, that coat and man. 
 His journeyman is grinning at him ; he is paid weekly, and has no 
 risk. And then what a genuine bit of Thackeray, the street-boy 
 and his dear little admiring sister ! — there they are stepping out 
 in mimicry of the great two.' 
 
 The article from which this passage is quoted contains a letter, 
 full of grave feeling and sensibility, which Thackeray wrote, in 
 1848, in acknowledging one of those spontaneous expressions of 
 gratitude that are occasionally found to cheer an author on his 
 way, and to awaken in his mind the encouraging sense of sympathy 
 from unexpected quarters. 
 
 ' There happened to be placed in the window of an Edinburgh 
 jeweller a silver statuette of " Mr. Punch," with his dress en rigueur 
 his comfortable and tidy paunch, with all its buttons ; his hunch ; 
 his knee-breeches, with their ties ; his compact little legs, one foot 
 a little forward ; and the intrepid and honest, kindly little fellow 
 firmly set on his pins, with his customary look of up to and good 
 for anything. In his hand was his weapon, a pen ; his skull was 
 an inkhorn, and his cap its lid. A passer-by — who had long been 
 grateful to our author, as to a dear unknown and enriching friend, 
 for his writings in " Fraser " and in " Punch/' and had longed for 
 some way of reaching him and telling him how his work was 
 relished and valued — bethought himself of sending this inkstand 
 to Mr. Thackeray. He went in, and asked its price. " Ten 
 guineas, sir." He said to himself, " There are many who feel as I 
 do ; why shouldn't we send it up to him ? I'll get eighty several 
 half-crowns, arid that will do it " (he had ascertained there would 
 be discount for ready money). With the help of a friend, the 
 half-crowns were soon forthcoming, and it is pleasant to remember 
 that in the " octogint " are the names of Lord Jeffrey and Sir 
 William Hamilton, who gave their half-crowns with the heartiest 
 good-will. A short note was written, telling the story. The little 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS TO 'MEN OF CHARACTER: 439 
 
 man in silver was duly packed and sent, with the following 
 inscription round the base : — 
 
 'GULIELMO MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. 
 
 ARMA VIRUMQUE 
 
 GRATI NECNON GRAT7E EDINENSES 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 D. D. D.' 
 
 How far Thackeray would have succeeded as an illustrator of 
 other men's thoughts there is but little that has been published to 
 prove. His separate cuts in ' Punch ' are remarkably happy and 
 droll, but they have none of those graver and more aspiring quali- 
 ties which authors perhaps might have looked for in the sketches 
 of a young gentleman who proposed seriously to draw pictures for 
 their stories. It is conceded that for the embellishment of his own 
 writings Thackeray's eye, hand, and pencil possessed every desir- 
 able qualification; and it is not improbable that the same facilities 
 would have enabled him to offer to others, as his powers became 
 matured, a share of the advantages which his ready wit brought to 
 his own pictorial embellishments. 
 
 The few instances of his productions as an illustrator, pure and 
 simple, are too early to come under fair criticism. Before he had 
 acquired practice with his etching-needle, and certainly before he 
 had found out his own particular style, he tried his hand at a set 
 of copper plates, with the example of Seymour, it is believed, to 
 guide his then imperfect knowledge of the art by means of which 
 he desired to publish his designs. 
 
 The admirable series of ' Men of Character,' which Douglas 
 Jerrold originally contributed as magazine papers, were collected 
 in three volumes and published by Colburn in 1838. These 
 volumes were illustrated with several plates, the humour of which 
 is undeniable, although it may be thought that the subjects have 
 suffered in execution. The name of the artist does not appear, 
 but there is no doubt that Thackeray supplied these designs to 
 adorn the book of his friend and fellow litterateur ; the incidents 
 selected are all sufficiently farcical for humorous delineation, and 
 that they have certainly had at the hands of the draughtsman. 
 
 'The Practical Philosophy of Adam Buff' (the Man without 
 a, Shirt) is completely set out in the frontispiece, where, soused 
 
44o THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 with water, the moral professor is invited by a ' rough ' to strip 
 'to his shirt' and show his skill with his fists. Buff's coat is 
 buttoned to the chin, to conceal the absence of his linen, and with 
 his huge shoulder of mutton hands he is striking the attitude of 
 immovable moral dignity which won the heart of his patron. A 
 likeness to this identical pugilistic coal-whipper will be found in 
 one of Thackeray's wood-cuts to the ' Town and Gown Row ' in 
 ' Codlingsby ' ('Punch's Prize Novelists '). The ' Fall of Pippins ' 
 represents that too susceptible youth on his knees before his lady 
 mistress, whom he has awakened with a kiss. The indignation of 
 the outraged fair, the abject terror and contrition of Pippins, the 
 fury of the jealous husband, Sir Scipio Mannikin, who is breaking 
 in upon the transgressor with uplifted cane, and the startled faces 
 of the domestic chaplain and his followers, are all successfully 
 indicated. From bad to worse, we next find ' Job Pippins — 
 Murderer.' The unfortunate youth, labouring under a very un- 
 pleasant suspicion, has been dragged into still more objectionable 
 company ; he is nervously seated on the edge of a stool, in a hut 
 tenanted by burglars and cut-purses. A young girl, the mistress 
 of a highwayman, captain of the gang, has one of those pretty, 
 innocent faces Thackeray always expressed so successfully. 
 
 ' Jack Runnymede's Dream ' is perhaps the most indicative of 
 the artist's vein of grotesque humour. This champion of the 
 1 rights of an Englishman ' had a peculiar dream before com- 
 mencing a suit at law. He fancied the Father of Evil met him 
 by the wayside, performing like a shepherd on his pipe, and 
 tendered him a * little pup.' The Satanic person is set forth with 
 great imaginative attractiveness, and the convolutions of his tail 
 are very elaborate. 
 
 ' John Applejohn's Humane Intentions ' are displayed just at 
 the very instant they were most liable to uncharitable misinterpret- 
 tation, for he is caught, on his knees, with a bunch of keys, evi- 
 dently in the act of lock-picking. ' Maximilian Tape before the 
 Lords,' represents the little journeyman tailor just as he was 
 captured by those promising slips of the aristocracy, Lord Slap, 
 Tom Rumpus, young Plucky, and Rowdow ; while one of the 
 party is breaking a plate over his affrighted head that he may 
 prove his trade by stitching it together again. ' Mr. Cramlington,' 
 Applejohn's master, in his borrowed locks and whiskers, the son 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS TO 'MEN OF CHARACTER: 441 
 
 of Tape's employer, a West End outfitter, who has got introduced 
 to this fine, improving society, under the assumption of being a 
 1 man of fashion,' is looking on the scene in ill-concealed dread of 
 his own recognition and exposure. 
 
 In the ' Final Reward of John Applejohn,' that unfortunate 
 but well meaning, simple youth, just captured from the front of a 
 booth, and still in the dress of a statue, in which character he 
 narrowly escaped demolition, is restored to the "girl of his heart." 
 
 ' Barnaby Palms Feeling his Way ' is shown, the epitome of 
 artfulness, at the breakfast- table of his worthy uncle, where he is 
 taking his last meal before setting out to seek his fortune in the 
 world. The wily youth insisted on eating a stale egg, declaring he 
 ' did not care for his eggs over-fresh,' in order to win the heart of 
 his relative, before whom is displayed a well-filled money-bag — 
 Barnaby's anticipated ' start in life. 3 It may be remembered that 
 the uncle expressed his earnest conviction that a man ' who did 
 not care for his eggs over-fresh ' was sure to make his way by 
 himself, and so sent Barnaby forth without the coveted money-bag. 
 
 ' Cheek's Introduction to a New Subject ' represents the prison- 
 yard, where the dwarf artist and modeller, Mr. Pop, is maliciously 
 enjoying the spectacle of his employer, Cheek, the waxwork show- 
 man, in a state of horror, with his hand locked in the fist of Kemp, 
 the murderer, whose head they have come down to 'take off' 
 after execution. ' The Ghost of Kemp ' represents Aaron, the Jew 
 fence, waking from his guilty slumbers to discover the murderer's 
 head, which Pop has modelled and placed for security on the 
 window-sill, where it is suddenly disclosed by the moonlight to 
 the conscience-stricken and horrified ' receiver of stolen goods,' 
 who had congratulated himself that the hangman's noose had ef- 
 fectually removed all evidence of his own guilt. 
 
 ' Matthew Clear, the Man who Saw his Way,' is introduced in 
 the fatal instance of * not seeing his way ' which proved his ruin ; 
 seated on a sofa with the artful adventuress whose fortune the 
 long-headed Clear flattered himself he should secure by persuading 
 her into a marriage. He is planted very comfortably on a little 
 sofa, below the simpering portrait of his bride. Julia's arms are 
 round the neck of the deluded Clear; on his knee is perched a 
 great lubberly boy, a pledge of affection to which it appears the 
 lady stands ' almost in the light of a mother.' Matthew, evidently 
 
442 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 lost as to 'his way,' is successfully cajoled; and Mrs. Clear's 
 parrot, which had been educated on board ship, is shrieking de- 
 moniacally, ' Hooked, by Jingo ! ' 
 
 The last plate illustrates the ' Introduction of Titus Trumps to 
 Miss Wolfe.' The confiding hero of this story, whose belief in 
 something ' turning up ' favourable was ineradicable, is being 
 confronted by the peppery Baronet, Sir Jeremy Sloth, with his 
 daughter, the mature but impressionable Emily, when he has 
 actually come to pay a visit to her maid, whose relatives keep a 
 public-house with the sign of ' General Wolfe.' 
 
 These illustrations would probably have achieved more success 
 had the artist confined himself to the bold outline manner of 
 etching in which his better-known plates are executed, and in which 
 he early exhibited a fair proficiency. His desire to conform to 
 the fashion of the day (the ' Pickwick Papers ' were publishing at ' 
 the time) led him to attempt a style in which he had not enjoyed 
 sufficient experience to qualify him to produce results which 
 would compare favourably with the works of older hands. 
 
 Another jeu d' esprit from his pencil, commenced somewhat 
 later, is considerably more in the unmistakeable Titmarshian 
 vein ; indeed, for the force and fun of its satire, it perhaps excels 
 all that he ever did in the indulgence of his amazing talents for 
 ludicrous personalities. We refer to the series of illustrations, or 
 rather caricatures, suggested for the ' Whitey-brown Paper Maga- 
 zine,' which was never .issued. The rarity of these croquis, merely 
 a few loose lithographed leaves, drawn by Thackeray himself, is so 
 excessive that it is stated that the only original copy which has 
 come under our notice cost the proprietor no less than forty 
 guineas. The entire paper, which in its intention does not differ 
 widely from certain of the ' Yellowplush Papers,' is directed to 
 ridicule the consequence of Dr. Lardner, editor of the ' Cabinet 
 Cyclopaedia/ and his friend Sir Bulwer Lytton. It may be remem- 
 bered that the ' Literary Chronicle,' under the influence of these 
 gentlemen, was a pet aversion to its rival ' Fraser,' with Dr. 
 Magmn and Titmarsh to the front. The caricatures commence 
 with a 'Preface, Advertisement, or Introduction,' to which we 
 must briefly refer in order to bring on the scene the young gentle- 
 man whose history is displayed in the caricatures, and who it was 
 stated, lest persons should fancy the ridicule directed against any 
 
« WHITE Y-BRO WN PAPER MA GAZ1NE: 443 
 
 of the writer's contemporaries, lived many thousands of years ago, 
 in the reign of Chrononhotonthologos, King of Brentford. 
 
 This gentleman's name was Dionysius Diddler, and the his- 
 torian hastens to anticipate misconstruction by explaining that he 
 was no relation of any other Dionysius, nor indeed a native of 
 Brentford (though, it is confessed, Diddlers certainly abound in 
 that place). 
 
 Dionysius, who was sixty years of age and wore a wig and 
 false teeth, according to his biographer, came over as a young 
 fellow from Patland, and, finding the people of Brentford more 
 easily humbugged and more ignorant than any people on earth,, 
 settled himself there, in his trade, which was that of a philosopher ; 
 an excellent profession, by which Dionysius would have made a 
 pretty penny, only he spent his money in trying to be a man of 
 fashion, in buying clothes, and other genteel diversions. 
 
 In consequence of this extravagance, although his learning had 
 made his name famous (every one has heard of his ' Essay on the 
 Tea- Kettle,' his ' Remarks on Pumps,' and his celebrated ' Closet 
 Cyclopaedia'), poor Diddler found himself one day, after forty- 
 years of glory, turned out of his lodging, without a penny, with- 
 out his wig — which, sad to say, he had pawned — without even 
 his false teeth, which, seeing he had no use for them, he had 
 pawned too. 
 
 The first sketch pictures Dionysius Diddler, young, innocent, 
 and with a fine head of hair, on which he wears an old felt hat and 
 band very much out of shape. He wears a clerical-cut buttoned- 
 up vest ; a bob-tail coat, very short in the waist and sleeves, and 
 long in the sparrow-tails ; his face (an admirable likeness of the 
 Doctor is preserved throughout) is adorned with 'specs;' his 
 1 brogues ' are very short, and patched ; his shoes are decidedly 
 primitive ; a ' shellalee ' is playfully twirled in his right hand; under 
 his left arm is his learned library, for he is a young student of Bally- 
 bunion University, which noble foundation is seen under the hedge 
 shown in the veracious artist's background, and, we are sorry to 
 think, the famous college looks very like a bog-hut with a hole in 
 the roof to let the smoke through. In contrast to this bright 
 image of his gallant youth is the picture of the Doctor, after forty 
 years of fame, thrown on the world very lean and miserable ; the 
 crown of his famouc old felt hat is flopping down behind, the 
 
444 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 brim is very limp and ragged ; his stock is buttoned close, as is 
 what remains of his coat, for vest or linen he has none. Elbows 
 are out, so are arm-pits ; tails are mere fringe, trousers to match, 
 and oh, such dreadful, shapeless, soleless old bluchers, and, we are 
 afraid, no socks ! 
 
 Poor old Diddler, with a paper bag on his head in place of his 
 wig, with his face sunken in for the want of his teeth, with his old 
 bludgeon in one hand, and the other exposing the ragged remains 
 of a bottomless pocket, is looking wistfully out of his old barnacles, 
 as he thinks of dear Ballybunion. ' I'm femous,' he is soliloquising, 
 * all the wurrrld over • but what's the use of riputetion ? Look at 
 me, with all me luggage at the end of me stick — all me money in 
 me left-hand breeches pocket— and it's oh ! but I'd give all me 
 celibrity for a bowl of butthermilk and petaties.' 
 
 A happy thought strikes the Doctor in this strait. He goes off 
 to see what his publisher will do for him ; and the next view we 
 have of poor Dionysius is more cheerful. He is in the shop of Mr. 
 Shortman ; ' an' sure an' ouns ! ' Diddler's face wears the most 
 gratified smile possible to be produced without teeth. His roof- 
 less hat is on the floor; the state of the top makes it hold his 
 ^shellalee' all the more conveniently. Cn the shelves, sure 
 enough on the book-shelves, is the ' Closet Cyclopaedia ; ' and lean- 
 ing over the counter, on which he has just laid down three five- 
 pound notes and three sovereigns for the delighted Dionysius to 
 sweep up, is the eminent publisher, white neckcloth and all, in his 
 habit as he lived ; a capital caricature likeness of the head of the 
 firm of Longman and Co. 
 
 Diddler rapidly turns his money to account in reinstating him- 
 self as an elegant member of society and art — the man of fashion 
 the rogue longed to be. The first thing he does is to take his wig 
 out of pawn. Here the artist has shown him in the Lombardian 
 counting-house; and, while his 'relative' is examining certain 
 securities (in the way of personal garments) upon which some of 
 his clients in the private boxes desire advances, our fashionable 
 Doctor takes the opportunity of readjusting before a looking-glass 
 his head of hair, which has suffered somewhat by recent incarcera- 
 tion, his fingers being converted into curling-tongs to replace in 
 some degree its pristine splendour. 
 
 ' And now,' says he, ' I'll go, take a sthroll to the Wist Ind, and 
 
'WHITEY-BROWN PAPER MAGAZINE: 445 
 
 call on me frind Sir Hinry Pelham.' It appears that the noble 
 Baronet's West End residence is situated in a neighbourhood no> 
 less celebrated than ' famed Red Lion's fashionable Square.' We 
 are offered a jaunty back view of the revived dandy Diddler, as y 
 with a swagger of considerable sprightliness, and a genteel comedy 
 strut, he is endeavouring to carry off the impression of his ragged 
 wardrobe, and make the holes in his elbows pass current as a light, 
 airy fashion. The imposing wig is made the most of; one massive 
 lock, like a whisk of tow, is elegantly brushed about four inches 
 beyond one ear, while the famous limp white hat, with its black 
 band, and the top flapping about like the lid of a milk -pail, is 
 cocked over the other. Carriages in the distance, with footmen 
 suspended in pairs to the splashboard behind, attest the highly 
 respectable character of the vicinity. 
 
 Sir Hinry Pelham is fortunately at home, reposing in a sump- 
 tuous easy chair, and splendidly apparelled in a long black satin 
 stock, a flowing dressing-gown with collars and cuffs of some 
 gorgeous material, and pointed Turkish slippers. The Baronet's 
 fashionable exterior is very characteristic ; his hair is thrown back 
 in a rich cataract, over the back of his stock, his full curled whiskers 
 ambrosially droop below his chin, his brow is noble, his eyebrow 
 arched, his eye is haughty, as is his fine-bridged and well-defined 
 hook-nose. This tremendous lion is evidently just roused from a 
 state of well-bred listlessness, and he is propped up on the elbows 
 of his lounge, while he regards, with sleepy astonishment, a bank- 
 note which his friend is flourishing before him with an air. 
 
 Diddler has thrown his hat on the floor, thrust his stick 
 through the opening in the top, and drawn up a chair upon which 
 he is straddling his long body and little legs in a consequential 
 and impressive attitude. ' Pelham, me boy,' says he, ' you have 
 clothes, and I have cridit; here's a five-pound note, and rig me 
 out in a new shoot.' 
 
 In the next plate, Pelham, solacing himself with a cigar, is 
 modestly concealing his features in a magazine ; while Diddler — 
 having discarded his shocking old clothes, which, with his vagabond 
 hat and stick, lie scattered about the Baronet's splendid apart- 
 ments — is ensconsing himself in one of Pelham's fashionable 
 ' shoots ; ' a large cheval-glass discreetly marks the operations of 
 his toilet ' Fait/ says Diddler, ' the what-d'ye-call-'ems fit me 
 
446 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 like a glove.' Pelham is still engaged with his cigar and book in 
 the following plate, but his aristocratic profile is again displayed. 
 Diddler is standing in front of the cheval-glass contemplating with 
 increased satisfaction his improved and respectable appearance; 
 in fact, he is dressed in one of the Baronet's suits, the very height 
 of the mode. His wig is now in curl, a few handsome locks are 
 brushed over his forehead, a curl or two over his ears, and a row of 
 curls over his stock behind. His spectacles, which he never aban- 
 dons, beam with satisfaction, and his teeth are evidently replaced. 
 He has a black satin stock very high in the neck, and falling into 
 a creasy, shiny avalanche below; his coat has a broad collar, 
 sleeves cut quite tight from the elbow, and snowy wristbands. With 
 one hand he is affectedly adjusting his shirt- collar, while he 
 admires the reflected effect of the other, displayed in an attitude 
 with his thumb in the pocket of his spotless white vest ; light 
 trousers, literally fitting like a glove, as was then the fashion, 
 setting tightly over a pair of narrow boots with extravagantly 
 lengthened toes and high heels, which complete the costume of 
 •this elegant old dandy. 
 
 ' And upon me honour and consilience,' says he, ' now I'm 
 dthressed, but I look intirely ginteel.' 
 
 In the last cut which has reached us we see the exterior of Sir 
 Hinry's noble mansion, in Red Lion Square. The dandy Doctor, 
 •dressed in Pelham's coat, hat, boots, and pantaloons, stock, and 
 spurs, is mistaken for the Baronet himself by Hodge, his groom, 
 who leads round Pelham's horse, and, holding the stirrup, respect- 
 fully invites Dionysius to mount ; and Diddler is shown in the 
 picture generously dropping a coin into the cap of the groom, who 
 with his disengaged hand is scratching his shock-head with as- 
 tonishment. His face is a study of comical surprise, his knees are 
 shaking with fright ; and as the Doctor rides away, like the dashing 
 blade he evidently considers himself, fear seizes upon the soul of 
 Hodge. Says he, ' That gemman cannot be my master, for, as he 
 rode away, he gave me sixpence, and my dear master never gives 
 me nothen.' 
 
 Another capital plate introducing Bulwer and Lardner appeared 
 in the collection of ' Comic Tales,' already mentioned in this 
 volume, and published by Cunningham (1841), for which the 
 author draws a fresh series of illustrations. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS TO 'COMIC TALES: 447 
 
 The caricature in question accompanies Mr. Yellowplush's 
 ' Ajew,' the opening of which is extremely droll and clever. The 
 two ' eminent gents ' have just got out of their fly and are making 
 their entrance at the house of Sir John, who, as a Whig Baronet, 
 receives 'littery pipple;' poor Yellowplush is holding the door 
 for these ' fust of English writers/ and very much amazed he 
 looks. Although the etching is small, the likenesses are carefully 
 worked out ; the figure of Bulwer in the ' Whitey-brown Papers ' 
 has all the characteristics, slightly heightened, already given, except 
 that he wears a suit of evening dress — ' a gilt velvet waistcoat,' 
 with his wristbands turned over the cuffs of his coat, and very 
 tight gloves. The little Doctor has thrust his arm under the wing 
 of his friend, who struts very affectedly in his close-fitting clothes, 
 to exhibit to advantage his small waist and falling shoulders. 
 Lardner's wig is perhaps richer in curls, his spectacles more beam- 
 ing, his simper more satisfied; he is adjusting the collar of his 
 older- fashioned square-tailed coat over a striped silk vest, which 
 wrinkles over his rounded paunch ; his queer-shaped little legs are 
 displayed in somewhat ill-fitting tights, strapped over silk stockings 
 and pumps tied with ribands. 
 
 It may be remembered that the announcement of the arrival of 
 these ' genlmn ' created some confusion. The Doctor was in- 
 dignant that any one should fail to recognise so famous a celebrity, 
 when Mr. Yellowplush mildly asked for his name. 
 
 'Name! — a! now you thief o' the wurrrld,' says he, 'do you 
 
 pretind not to know me? Say it's the Cabinet Cyclop ; no, I 
 
 mane the Litherary Chran ; psha ! — bluthanouns ! say it's 
 
 Docthor Dioclesian Larner I think he'll know me now — ay, 
 
 Nid ? ' But Nid had slipped out of the way, being a little nervous 
 about the good-breeding of his friend, it is presumed. 
 
 The second footman passed up the name as ' Doctor Athan- 
 sius Larnder ! and by the time he got to the groom of the cham- 
 bers, who made some pretensions to scholarship, the little man 
 was announced as '2)octor SgrtattuS Sotyola!' 
 
 The other gentleman, when requested to give his name (it was 
 at the time people were talking about the eminent novelist's 
 chances of being made a baronet), said in ' a thick, gobbling kind 
 of voice ' : 
 
 ' Sawedwadgeorgeearllittnbulwig ; ' 
 
448 THA CKERA YA NA. 
 
 which rather dumfoundered Mr. Yellowplush. That accomplished 
 writer evidently watched the two ' littery genlmn ' with interest, as 
 he records the gratifying fact that ' they behaved very well, and 
 seemed to have good appytights." 
 
 The little Irishman especially distinguished himself, eating, 
 drinking, and talking enough for six ; and, after the wine, described 
 how he had lately been presented at court by his friend Mr. Bul- 
 wig, and how her gracious Majesty had desired him to tell her the 
 bon&fidesalQ. of the ' Cabinet Cyclopaedia,' and how he had assured 
 her, on his honour, that it was under ten thousand. 
 
 The entire illustrations of these ' Comic Tales and Sketches ' 
 are engraved with great neatness and spirit ; and, in spite of their 
 small size, they are superior, in carefulness of execution and 
 attention to detail, to most of Thackeray's etchings. 
 
 The figure of a jester forms the frontispiece. A placard, which 
 nearly conceals his person, exhibits the portraits of the three cele- 
 brities who are concerned in the work. The genteel Mr. Fitzroy 
 Yellowplush, in his footman's livery, with a gold-headed cane in 
 hir right hand, has hold of one arm of the more homely Michael 
 Angelo Titmarsh, who is in his turn looking up to the ferocious 
 and colossal Major Gahagan, with whose stride he is absurdly en- 
 deavouring to keep pace. The Major's is a truly terrific figure. 
 The enormous plumes of his high Polish shako, with the skull 
 and cross-bones in front, are waving in the breeze, as is his long 
 hair, his pointed moustache, and his spreading beard. His manly 
 chest is displayed in a tight-fitting cavalry jacket, his shapely limbs 
 are encased in embroidered tights and heavily tasseled Hessians, a 
 sabre as tall as Titmarsh reposes on his stalwart arm, and altogether 
 he appears some nine feet high. 
 
 The trio, thus marching hand in hand together, are supposed 
 to be on the very verge of immortality, which, in the sketch, un- 
 commonly resembles a precipice. 
 
 The other illustrations of the two small volumes, all of which 
 are printed in a warm sepia tint, consist of ' Mrs. Shum's Eject- 
 ment;' Mr. Deuceace paying for his Papa's Cigars;' ' Mr. Deuce- 
 ace's disinterested Declaration;' 'Mr. Yellowplush displaying his 
 Credentials' (his plush garments to wit) ; * Major Gahagan, from 
 the great portrait by Titmarsh, in the gallery of H.H. the Nawaub 
 of Budge Budge;' 'The Major discovering the Infidelity of Mrs. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS TO < COMIC TALES: 449 
 
 Chowder Loll ' (where his tremendous figure is striding across the 
 ' tattees,' through a window, into the very midst of the disconcerted 
 family); 'The Major's Interview with a Celebrated Character' (no 
 less a personage than the Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte, who is 
 on tip-toe, dressed in the historical little cocked-hat and grey coat, 
 trying to put his small figure more on a level with the overwhelm- 
 ing Gahagan : in the background an English general of the period, 
 dressed in a crescent-shaped cocked-hat and plume, a tight long 
 coat, with swallow-tails reaching to his heels, and white ducks split 
 over the boots, with a telescope under his arm, is in conversation 
 with one of the fierce-looking French Marshals) ; *■ The Major in 
 the Tent of Puttee Rouge ' (a terrifying figure, disguised in black 
 paint, affectionately hugging a whisky -jar of considerable dimen- 
 sions). 
 
 The episode of the ' Professor ' affords the artist a favourable 
 subject, which he treats with full comic force — ' Mr. Dando 
 declares his Name and Quality.' It may be remembered that the 
 oyster-eater has taken advantage of the absence of the proprietor 
 to obtain an unlimited supply of his favourite bivalves at an oyster- 
 room, where the mistress did not recognise her unprincipled 
 customer, but was even so confiding as to send out for brandy- 
 and-water in liberal proportion to the oysters consumed by this 
 scourge of supper-rooms. The unfortunate proprietor has just 
 returned in time to learn a description of the business which has 
 been done in his absence; in some fear he is bringing in his bill, 
 the while he is tying on his professional apron. Mr. Dando is 
 seated majestically on the table, according to Thackeray's picture 
 of the scene ; swinging his legs about in a semi-intoxicated state, 
 and picking his teeth, in an unconcerned and self-possessed 
 manner, with an oyster-knife ; a pile of shells, sufficient for many 
 grottoes, are at his feet, while the horror-stricken servants are 
 gathering other shells scattered around. The professor is sup- 
 posed to have just met the reasonable demand for payment made 
 by the deluded master of the establishment with a yell of tipsy 
 laughter, and the announcement that his name is Dando, and that 
 he never pays ! Above his head may be read the comforting 
 intelligence that a great reduction is made on taking a quantity, to 
 which advantage Dando is very obviously entitled. 
 
 The last plate (' Bedford Row Conspiracy '), ' Mr. Perkins dis- 
 
 G G 
 
45o 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 covered in the Zoological Gardens,' depicts Mr. John Perkins 
 standing, with the fair Lucy Gorgon, on the parapet which sur- 
 rounds the bearpit at the Zoological Gardens. The lady's hands 
 are placed on the gentleman's shoulder, his arm is round her 
 waist, she being somewhat timid, and he is encouraging her to 
 Jump down — into his fond arms. She obeys him, and jumps 
 plump into the awful presence of her aunt and guardian, Lady 
 Gorgon, who is at the head of a neat little train, consisting of three 
 Miss Gorgons, Master Gorgon, a French governess, and a footman 
 carrying a poodle, all of whom had listened for some minutes to 
 the billings and cooings of this imprudent young pair. 
 
THACKERAY AS AN ILLUSTRATOR. 451 
 
 Original Studies of Halberdiers of the Georgian Era 
 G G 2 
 
452 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 The last story reprinted in this series is 'The Fatal Boots/ 
 which appears without any pictures, the artist and author modestly 
 declaring that, as this edifying narrative originally appeared with 
 George Cruikshank's illustrations (in the ' Comic Almanack ' for 
 1839), he is not inclined to provoke comparisons between the 
 works of that eminent designer and his own. 
 
 Allusions to caricature-drawing are frequent throughout 
 Thackeray's works, and he delighted to bring the young art- 
 amateur on his scenes. 
 
 With pencil as with pen, he had the power of carrying 
 the mind back to the days of the early essayists, and his recon- 
 structive skill is remarkable when he draws the picture of the 
 times in which his rich fancy and his taste for antiquarian com- 
 pleteness found the most delightful materials. 
 
 We follow the artist's quaint vein of humour and realism from 
 the little sketches of chivalry — the heroes of knight-errantry, 
 
THACKERAY AS AN ILLUSTRATOR. 
 
 45; 
 
 Crusaders, Saracens, and the more romantic personages — which 
 amused him in his boyhood, 
 to his spirited studies illustra- 
 tive of the days when Dick 
 Steele's 'Tatler' was beginning 
 to be talked about as a paper 
 which contained a very un- 
 usual amount of entertain- 
 ment, from its whimsical com- 
 bination of sterling wit and 
 truth to nature. Thackeray 
 was peculiarly at home in the 
 times of Queen Anne. We 
 find his pencil busy reproduc- 
 ing the figures of personages who moved in the world under the 
 
 early Georges ; and the reign of the third George was as intimately 
 familiar to him, in all details of value, as if he had lived through 
 
454 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 1 tf ! 
 
 
THACKERAY AS AN HISTORIAN. 
 
 455 
 
 the triumphs, struggles, and disasters in which his own writings 
 revive a stronger interest. We enjoy his researches through the 
 great eras of England's history, when Washington led the revolted 
 colonies to independence, when Pitt and 
 Toryism waged war in the Senate with Fox 
 and the friends of liberty, when the fever of 
 Revolution arose in France, and threatened 
 to infect our own land, and when the ' Cor- 
 sican' was driven down to the death. 
 
 Waterloo had a strong claim on Thack- 
 eray's interest; he is partial to alluding to 
 the critical point of our history, as all the 
 reading world well knows. 
 
 It must be conceded that the chief inci- 
 dent of ' Vanity Fair ' leads up to the great 
 battle. References to the famous field occur 
 in many portions of his gossip or travels, while 
 figures are borrowed from this event to carry 
 out the arguments of his novels and lesser essays under all sorts 
 of circumstances. 
 
 Even in 'Philip/ which deals with a later period, we are 
 carried back to that stirring epoch. For instance, there is that 
 
 disreputable old Gann, the tipsy father of Mrs. Brandon, whose 
 acquaintance we made originally in the ' Shabby Genteel Story. ; It 
 was always a matter of doubt how this worthy came by his rank of 
 Captain, which was supposed to have had its rise somehow in con- 
 
456 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 nection with the Spanish Legion ; but, at all events, he had borne 
 the distinction so long, that none of his friends dreamt of investi- 
 gating the title. 
 
 The costume affected by 'bucks,' when Thackeray was a 
 young man of fashion, comes down to us as preserved in his 
 
 sketches as something very modish and singular, in which the 
 taste and style seem nearly as quaint and distant as the knee 
 breeches and square skirts of the last century. 
 
 ' Titmarsh,' who had the courage to dedicate the ' Paris 
 Sketch-Book ' to a generous French tailor, was himself an 
 authority on dress ; and, although above all pretensions to ' fad- 
 dery and foppery,' was accustomed to scrutinise closely not only 
 men, but the habits they wore. 
 
MEN AND COATS: 
 
 457 
 
 The reader may confirm what we have just said, if he will turn 
 to the vigorous and whimsical articles on * Men and Coats,' which 
 Thackeray penned in his younger days. 
 
 There is a fine specimen of freedom and independence of con- 
 
 A Buck of the Old School 
 
 vention in many of Thackeray's early writings, especially in those 
 slashing, downright papers which Titmarsh contributed to the 
 magazines, chiefly from the French capital, about the 'Pans 
 Sketch-Book ' period. 
 
458 
 
 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 Heads of the People ' 
 
HATRED OF CONVENTIONALITY. 459 
 
 In those days of Bohemian license there was a fine sterling ring 
 about Thackeray's outspoken sentiments. In his manly freedom 
 he cared little whether the slashing sentences gave offence or not. 
 
 Criticising the paintings in the Louvre in a paper on ' Men and 
 Pictures/ we find the young art-student riding an audacious tour- 
 
 Danger 
 
 nament against conventionalisms. He takes very candid excep- 
 tion to the practice of surrounding the heads of translated beings, 
 and particularly angels, with an invariable halo of gold leaf. He 
 happens to remember that stage tradition was always wont to dress 
 
460 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 the gravedigger in ' Hamlet ' in fifteen or sixteen waistcoats, all of 
 
 which are consecutively removed ; and he presumes this ancient 
 
 usage is founded on some very early custom, 
 
 real or supposititious, to depart from which 
 
 would savour of profane innovation. 
 
 Another favourite bent of Thackeray's 
 humour was the illustration of books of 
 fiction. He confessed he longed to write a 
 story-book in which generations upon genera- 
 tions of schoolboys should revel with delight, 
 and which should be filled with the most 
 wonderful and mirthful pictures. The illus- 
 trations on this and the preceding page may serve to show what 
 
 The Princess and the Frog 
 
 he might have done had he not more especially devoted himself 
 to literary work. 
 
THACKERAY AS AN ILLUSTRATOR, 
 
 461 
 
 Heads of the People' 
 
462 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Frontispiece to Murray's ' Official Handbook of Church and State ' 
 
 The facile character of Thackeray's pencil was remarkable; the 
 numerous sketches he left, and which in all probability, from the 
 
 M-flimMM- 
 
 The Legislature and Officers of the Houses of Parliament 
 
 circumstances of their ownership, will never in our day gratify a 
 public who would appreciate their publication, attest his versatile 
 
SATIRICAL PARODIES. 
 
 463 
 
 industry. No subject came amiss to his hand; the most un sug- 
 gestive works were to him rich in opportunities for whimsical 
 parody. 
 
 The House of Commons 
 
 Reduction of the National 
 Debt.— Office, Old Jewry 
 
 The Commissioners were 
 originally appointed under the 
 Statute of 26 Geo. III. c. i. 
 In that year a more active 
 scheme was proposed for the 
 diminution of the National 
 Debt, by the appropriation of 
 one million per annum to the 
 Sinking Fund, and the mo- 
 neys devoted to this end were 
 vested in the Commissioners, 
 and placed under their man- 
 agement. 
 
 General Board of Health, 
 Parliament Street 
 
 Clerk of the Petty Bag. 
 Petty Bag Office, Rolls Yard 
 
 Groom in Waiting. 
 
 The Lord Chamberlain's Department 
 
 Office, Stable Yard, St. James's 
 
 Palace 
 
464 
 
 THA CKERA VAN A. 
 
 No one can say the number of books, papers, scraps, &c, 
 to which an intrinsic value has been contributed by the great hu- 
 mourist's penchant for exercising his graphic fancy. 
 
465 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Thackeray as a Traveller — Journey in Youth from India to England — 
 Little Travels at Home — Sojourn in Germany — French Trips — Residence 
 in Paris — Studies in Rome — Sketches and Scribblings in Guide-Books — 
 Little Tours and Wayside Studies — Brussels — Ghent and the Beguines — 
 Bruges — Croquis in Murray's ' Handbooks to the Continent ' — Up the 
 Rhine — ' From Cornhill to Grand Cairo ' — Journeys to America — Switzer- 
 land — 'A Leaf out of a Sketch-Book' — The Grisons — Verona — 'Round- 
 about Journeys ' — Belgium and Holland. 
 
 Another aspect in which it is 
 agreeable to contemplate Thack- 
 eray is that of a traveller, for in 
 this character he must have gone 
 over a considerable portion of 
 the more interesting parts of the 
 world. From India to England, 
 in his seventh year, with that 
 memorable call at St. Helena, 
 where the youngster caught a 
 fugitive glimpse of the great Na- 
 poleon in his solitary exile. 
 
 Little journey ings about Eng- 
 land between boyhood and 
 youth, then a stolen visit to Paris, 
 in a college vacation. Then the 
 residence at Weimar and Eber- 
 feld, with rovings about Ger- 
 many. Then to Paris to see the 
 world, to study men, manners, 
 and pictures; half art- student, half pursuing the art of amusing 
 oneself. Then a more serious application to the earlier stages of 
 
 H H 
 
 W. M. T. on his travels 
 
466 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 that somewhat lengthy road which every aspirant must plod who 
 
 would follow the artist's career. 
 
 Let us take up one of his travelling companions and pass a 
 
 day with the easy-working, comfortably-provided, and satirically- 
 observant young ' buck,' who found himself so 
 pleasantly at home in Louis Philippe's slightly 
 uncertain capital. 
 
 ' Planta's Paris ' is not the most familiar of 
 travelling companions, its descriptions are not 
 altogether modern, but the glimpse it affords 
 us of the French capital is curious from the 
 circumstance that it registers the swiftness of 
 change in the Centre of Pleasure. It might 
 be an amusing study to reproduce from its 
 pages the attractions of Paris in 1827, the 
 date of the fifteenth edition of this work; 
 but the stout square little book possesses a 
 stronger interest, as it had the advantage of 
 belonging to Michael Angelo Titmarsh, and 
 in his pocket it probably tumbled and tossed 
 across the Channel. 
 It is rather difficult to connect Mr. Titmarsh with the stereo- 
 typed extracts of a guide-book, but the copy under consideration 
 
 was fortunately selected as a repository for the occasional sketches 
 
 suggested to the fancy of its proprietor. 
 
 In those ' flying stage ' days travellers booked their passage, 
 
 per coach, from the Spread Eagle, Piccadilly, to Paris. On this 
 
 service the journey from Calais to Paris 
 
 was performed by the 'Hirondelle' in 
 
 thirty hours. It was in this manner Mr. 
 
 Pogson accomplished his eventful first 
 
 journey, in the society of the fascinating 
 
 ' Baronne de Florval Delval,' as set forth 
 
 in the pages of Mr. Titmarsh's 'Paris 
 
 Sketch-Book.' Mr. Titmarsh has probably 
 
 contributed the pencilling of the ' old 
 
 regime' personage in the margin during ^ 
 
 the progress to the capital. Travelling caps of every order were 
 
 assumed for comfort during the jolting on the road. 
 
 At Weimar 
 
PLANTA'S PARIS: 
 
 467 
 
 Mr. Titmarsh had become a partial resident in Paris. He 
 might have been seen mastering the contents of the Louvre, the 
 Beaux Arts, and the Luxembourg; 
 occasionally mounting an easel and 
 copying a picture. 
 
 Betweenwhiles he is, we may rea- 
 sonably suppose, engaged on mate- 
 rials similar to his ' Paris Sketch- 
 Book,' or transferring the thrilling 
 thoughts ofBeranger into verses which 
 preserve the vitality of that mighty 
 songster. Here the young author and 
 his fanciful double evidently com- 
 menced their daily promenade — we 
 may vainly sigh for the pleasure of 
 forming one of such a desirable party 
 — butin spirit, assisted by the sketches 
 which mark his progress, it is just 
 possible to follow the humourist. 
 ' Planta's Paris ' is produced from 
 his pocket to receive rapid pencil Sj 
 jottings, slight but graphic, as the 
 subjects present themselves. 
 
 First, the lolling oicvrier, common to Paris in all seasons and 
 under every government, slow and shuffling, a 
 lounger through successive regimes. 
 
 We recognise the reign of the ' Citizen King' 
 in the person of one of his citizen soldiers, a 
 worthy National Guard, hurrying from commer- 
 cial allurements to practise the military duties 
 of a patriot. 
 
 At another time Mr. Titmarsh may refresh his pictorial tastes 
 by the inspection of M. Phillipon's latest onslaught on ' the poire. 1 
 
 Here we confront M. Aubert's renowned collection of political 
 cartoons in the Galerie Veron-Dodat, the head-quarters of that 
 irrepressible army of caricaturists whose satiric shafts kept the 
 stout Louis Philippe in a quiver of irritation, until he swept away 
 the liberty of the press. 
 
 Before us stands a stern dissentient from any expression assail- 
 
 H H 2 
 
 r^r 
 
468 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ing the inviolability of the absolute Sovereign who cleverly mis- 
 named himself the ' King of the Barricades.' 
 
 A Citizen Soldier The Army- 
 
 Here is a sketchy reminiscence of the yardm Biillier, over 
 the water, close by the Barriere d'Enfer. We may imagine that 
 
 this recollection has been revived 
 by some flaring affiche posted on the 
 walls regarding a ' long night ' and 
 the admission of ' fancy costumes ' 
 at that traditional retreat. 
 
 We next get a peep into a cabaret, 
 while still in pursuit of the military 
 train, and here the artist regales us 
 
'PLANTA'S PARISJ 
 
 469 
 
 with a spirited realisation of * Mars surrendering to Bacchus/ in 
 a picture not unworthy of Hogarth. These gentlemen are content 
 to espouse the side which offers the best chance of enjoyment 
 
 . ... .^ ^r^» T! ? .' B y- -r T^* T *~~ ; 
 
 — a phase not entirely extinct in the French army, and one that 
 has been relied on in recent instances. 
 
 These last drawings are executed with a pen, and cleverly 
 shaded in Indian ink. 
 
 Showers, sharp though short, are frequent enough in Paris. 
 Mr. Titmarsh, in the shelter of a ' Passage ' — possibly the ' Pano- 
 
47o 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 ramas ' — seizes the opportunity of this enforced captivity to pro- 
 duce a flying sketch of the damp world out of doors. 
 
 Mr. Titmarsh has stepped for a moment into the shelter of a 
 church, for we here find a life-like picture of a priest bearing the 
 Elements, 
 
 The shower is over : the sun shines brighter than ever, and 
 Mr. Titmarsh is tempted to trudge Over to the Luxembourg. After 
 a few practical criticisms on the paintings, he wanders into the 
 quaint gardens surrounding this palace of art. His active pencil 
 
ROUND ABOUT PARIS. 
 
 47i 
 
 finds immediate employment on an ever-recurring group, for 
 wherever bonnes abound there may the soldiers be found. 
 
 <-' 5^i 1 
 
 
 These little sketches aie full of familiar life. 
 
472 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 The barriere is passed, and Mr. Titmarsh takes a stroll in the 
 environs. His pencil preserves for our amusement this record of 
 his wanderings. 
 
 We may here allude to his kindly feeling for children, whose 
 romps so often employed his pen. Further down the shady groves 
 
 the coco seller finds a customer in a militaire, whose tastes are simple, 
 or whose means do not compass a more ambitious beverage. 
 
A STUDENT IN ROME. 
 
 473 
 
 Before he dines, Mr. Titmarsh returns to his lodgings (possibly 
 the very ones he occupied during the tragedy of Attwood's violent 
 end, described in the 'Gambler's Death'), to i wash-in* a few 
 
 « An Eastern Traveller 
 
 croquis in Indian ink; and there, we may assume, he traces on a 
 loose scrap of paper the whimsical outline of ' An Eastern Tra- 
 veller.' 
 
 Anon Mr. Titmarsh plunges deeper into the art career; his 
 aspirations lead him to Rome; there, amidst galleries, artists, 
 authors, models, canvases, and easels, he pursues his lively though 
 somewhat desultory course. Who could be more at home in the 
 head-quarters of the fine arts ? who more popular than this kind- 
 
474 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 hearted, keen-witted young satirist? a universal favourite, Measur- 
 ing, perhaps unconsciously, every phase of the mixed life he met 
 
 A NeaDolitan 'Snob 
 
 and led there. Again, as in Paris, a pure Bohemian through in- 
 clination, and yet fond of fine sights and society, with the entree 
 
 Southern Italy 
 
 at his disposal to every circle, refined or vagabond, of the com- 
 munism of a republic of art and letters. 
 
A STUDENT IN ROME. 
 
 475 
 
 A Water-carrier 
 
 Southern Italy 
 
 A Wayside Player 
 Italian Sketches 
 
476 
 
 THACKERA YANA. 
 
 And Thackeray was no less at home in Belgium than he was 
 in Germany, in Paris, and in Rome. 
 
 Guide Indispensable du Voyageur en Belgique 
 
 His books carry us where we will at pleasure. We can dot 
 about quaint Flanders with O'Dowd, Dobbin, and the English 
 
 A Family Jaunt 
 
WAYSIDE JOTTINGS. 
 
 477 
 
 army, on that famous Waterloo campaign; we can elect as our 
 travelling companion that eminent dandy, Arthur Pendenms, Esq. 
 
 On a Rhine Steamer 
 
 Mat de Coca 
 
 ^> 
 
 Roadside Sketches 
 
 We can follow Clive Newcome and quiet J. J. to the 'Congress 
 of Baden,' to Italy, and what not, or we can linger with Philip in 
 
478 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Paris. We can follow Titmarsh through all sorts of delightful 
 journeyings; we are assured that promising young genius was 
 almost an institution in Paris. He has studied Belgium and 
 
 sojourned in Holland; in 1843 he will allow us to trot over to 
 Ireland in his company, for a pleasant little jaunt; in 1846 our 
 ' Fat Contributor ' will surfer us to make one in a pilgrimage from 
 Cornhill to Cairo; in 1850 we may join the Kickleburys on the 
 
 Little Travels 
 
 Rhine. As to Mr. Roundabout, we may go with him where we 
 list — to America, if we would accept a few grateful souvenirs of 
 the New World ; to Scotland, where our author's popularity was, 
 if possible, even stronger ; to Switzerland, Italy, Germany, back to 
 
THE BEGUINE CONVENT, GHENT. 
 
 479 
 
 Belgium and Holland, and through innumerable pleasant remi- 
 niscences of fair and quaint cities. 
 
 Would you visit the chief sight of Ghent, who could better act 
 as your kindly guide, philosopher, and friend than Thackeray ? for 
 
 one of the most delightfully fresh and picturesque descriptions of 
 the Be'guine College or village at Ghent is due to the pen of 
 Titmarsh. In following his sketches of this miniature city of 
 nuns, which every worthy sightseer has visited in the early stage 
 of his travels, the whole place is set out before one with charms 
 
48o 
 
 TH ACKER A YANA. 
 
 added, the old interest is renewed, and we are trotting around the 
 quiet shady courts, or are again favoured with an interview by the 
 superior in the ' show-parlour,' with its ledger for the names of all 
 the Smiths in the universe, while around are displayed the 
 treasures of the convent. It is not difficult to imagine Thackeray 
 
 sitting down by the roadside, rapidly making the sketches which 
 we give in this chapter. 
 
 In 1852 Thackeray paid his first visit to America. The gene- 
 rous reception accorded him throughout the States is sufficiently 
 notorious. Mr. W. B. Reed, who enjoyed in Philadelphia the 
 intimacy of the great novelist, has recorded how deeply sym- 
 pathetic was the feeling of our transatlantic cousins for this 
 sterling example of a thorough and honest English gentleman. 
 
WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 
 
 481 
 
 Among other tender remembrances of the kindly humourist, he 
 writes, hinting with delicate reserve at 'domestic sorrows and 
 anxieties too sacred to be paraded before the world ' : — 
 
 ' In our return journey to Philadelphia, Thackeray referred to 
 a friend whose wife had been deranged for many years, hopelessly 
 and never shall I forget the look, and manner, and voice with 
 
 so 
 
 A Wayside Sketcher 
 
 which he said to me, "It is an awful thing for her to continue so 
 to live. It is an awful thing for her so to die. But has it never 
 occurred to you, how awful a thing the recovery of lost reason 
 must be without the consciousness of the lapse of time? She 
 finds the lover of her youth a grey-haired old man, and her infants 
 
 1 1 
 
4* 
 
 T HACKER A YANA. 
 
WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 
 
 483 
 
 young men and women. Is it not sad to think of this ? " As he 
 talked to me thus, I thought of those oft-quoted lines of ten- 
 derness : — 
 
 Ah me ! how quick the days are flitting; 
 
 I mind me of a time that's gone, 
 When here I'd sit, as now I'm sitting, 
 
 In this same place, but not alone. 
 A fair young form was nestled near me, 
 
 A dear, dear face looked fondly up, 
 And sweetly spoke and tried to cheer me — 
 
 There's no one now to share my cup! 
 
 'Thackeray left us (the Philadelphians) in the winter of 1853, 
 and in the summer of the year was on the Continent with his 
 daughters. In the last chapter of the " Newcomes," published 
 in 1855, he says: "Two years ago, walking with my children in 
 some pleasant fields near to Berne, in Switzerland, I strayed from 
 them into a little wood; and, coming out of it, presently told 
 them how the story had been revealed to me somehow, which, for 
 three-and-twenty months, the reader has been pleased to follow." 
 It was on this Swiss tour that he wrote me a kindly characteristic 
 
 112 
 
4 84 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 letter. On the back of this note is a pen-and-ink caricature, of 
 which he was not conscious when he began to write, as on turning 
 his paper over he alludes to "the rubbishing picture which he 
 didn't see." The sketch is very spirited, and is evidently the 
 original of one of his illustrations to his grotesque fairy tale of 
 the " Rose and the Ring," written (so he told a member of my 
 
 7*£^ 
 
 family years afterwards) while he was watching and nursing his 
 children, who were ill during this vacation ramble.' 
 
 The last journey chronicled by Thackeray was a merry little 
 ' Roundabout ' trip over the old Netherlands ground, in which he 
 indulged, without preparation, when overworked and suffering from 
 the anxieties of editing the 'Cornhill Magazine;' the journal is 
 filled in with the zest of a stolen excursion, and the writer men- 
 
WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 
 
 485 
 
 Swiss Kine 
 
 On the Road 
 
486 
 
 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 Dolce far niente 
 
 Unruly Travellers 
 
 Dutch Pictures 
 
A RUN TO HOLLAND. 
 
 48; 
 
 tions that no one knew where he had gone j that there was only 
 one chance of a letter finding him to curtail the freedom he had 
 snatched, and he goes to the post, and there, sure enough, is that 
 summons back to the ' thorny cushion,' which abruptly cuts short 
 
 
 Off to .Market 
 
 Dutch Pictures 
 
 the last recorded holiday jaunt of Thackeray's life. In this last 
 little jaunt through Holland, the impressions of the author were as 
 fresh and full of pleasant observation as in those wayside sketches 
 noted years before. 
 
488 
 
 THA CKERA VANA. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Commencement of the ' Cornhill Magazine '— * Roundabout Papers '— ' Love! 
 the Widower '—The 'Adventures of Philip on his Way through the World' 
 —Lectures on the 'Four Georges'— Editorial Penalties— The ' Thorn in the 
 Cushion '—Harass from disappointed Contributors— Vexatious Correspond- 
 ents—Withdrawal from the arduous post of Editor— Building of Thackeray's 
 House in Kensington Palace Gardens — Christmas 1863— Death of the 
 great Novelist— The unfinished Work— Circumstances of the Author's last 
 Illness — His death. 
 
 The great event of the last few years of Thackeray's life was the 
 starting of the 'Cornhill Magazine/ the first number of which, 
 with the date of January i860, appeared shortly before Christ- 
 mas in the previous year. The great success which Charles 
 Dickens had met with in conducting his weekly periodical perhaps 
 
 first suggested the project of this new monthly magazine, with 
 Thackeray for editor. But few expected a design so bold and 
 original as they found developed by the appearance of Number I. 
 The contents were by contributors of first-rate excellence • the 
 
THE EDITOR'S CONTRIBUTIONS. 489 
 
 quantity of matter in each was equal to that given by the old- 
 established magazines published at half-a-crown, while the price 
 of the ' Cornhill,' as everyone knows, was only a shilling. The 
 editor's ideas on the subject of the new periodical were explained 
 by him some weeks before the commencement in a characteristic 
 letter to his friend, G. H. Lewes, which was afterwards adopted as 
 the vehicle of announcing the design to the public. 
 
 The first number contained the commencement of that series 
 of ' Roundabout Papers ' in which we get so many interesting 
 glimpses of Thackeray's personal history and feelings, and also the 
 opening chapters of his story of ' Lovel the Widower.' The latter 
 was originally written in the form of a comedy, entitled ' the Wolf 
 and the Lamb,' which was intended to be performed during the 
 management of Wigan at the Olympic Theatre, but was finally 
 declined by the latter. Thackeray, we believe, acquiesced in the 
 unfavourable judgment of the practical manager upon the acting 
 qualities of his comedy, and resolved to throw it into narrative 
 form, in the story with which his readers are now familiar. This 
 waD not the first instance of his writing for the stage. If we are 
 not mistaken, the libretto of John Barnett's popular opera of the 
 ' Mountain Sylph,' produced nearly forty years since, 
 was from his pen. In the ' Cornhill ' also appeared 
 his story of ' Philip on his Way through the World.' 
 The scenes in this are said to have been founded 
 in great part upon his own experiences; and there 
 can be no doubt that the adventures of Philip Firmin 
 represent, in many respects, those of the Charterhouse 
 boy who afterwards became known to the world as 
 the author of ' Vanity Fair.' But in all such matters 
 it is to be remembered that the writer of fiction feels himself at 
 liberty to deviate from the facts of his life in any way which he 
 finds necessary for the development of his story. Certainly the 
 odious stepfather of Philip must not be taken for Thackeray's 
 portrait of his own stepfather, towards whom he always enter- 
 tained feelings of respect and affection. 
 
 We may also remind our readers that the ' Lectures on the 
 Four Georges ' first appeared in print in the ' Cornhill.' The sales 
 reached by the earlier numbers were enormous, and far beyond 
 anything ever attained by a monthly magazine ; even after the 
 
490 THA CKERA YANA. 
 
 usual subsidence which follows the flush of a great success, the 
 circulation had, we believe, settled at a point far exceeding the 
 most sanguine hopes of the projectors. 
 
 These fortunate results of the undertaking were, however, not 
 without serious drawbacks. The editor soon discovered that his 
 new position was in many respects an unenviable one. Friends 
 and acquaintances, not to speak of constant readers and ' regular 
 subscribers to your interesting magazine/ sent him bushels of manu- 
 scripts, amongst which it was rare indeed to find one that could be 
 accepted. Sensitive poets and poetesses took umbrage at refusals, 
 however kindly and delicately expressed. ' How can I go into 
 society with comfort ? ' asked the editor of a friend at this time. 
 1 1 dined the other day at 's, and at the table were four gen- 
 tlemen whose masterpieces of literary art I had been compelled 
 to decline with thanks.' Not six months had elapsed before he 
 began to complain of ' thorns ' in the editorial cushion. One lady 
 wrote to entreat that her article might be inserted, on the ground 
 that she had known better days, and had a sick and widowed 
 mother to maintain; others began with fine phrases about the 
 merits and eminent genius of the person they were addressing. 
 Some found fault with articles, and abused contributor and editor. 
 An Irishman threatened proceedings for an implied libel in ' Lovel 
 the Widower' upon ballet-dancers, whom he declared to be 
 superior to the snarlings of dyspeptic libellers, or the spiteful 
 attacks and brutum fulmen of ephemeral authors. This gentleman 
 also informed the editor that theatrical managers were in the habit 
 of speaking good English, possibly better than ephemeral authors. 
 
 It was chiefly owing to these causes that Thackeray finally 
 determined to withdraw from the editorship of the magazine, 
 though continuing to contribute to it and take an interest in its 
 progress. In an amusing address to contributors and correspond- 
 ents, dated March 18, 1862, he made known this determination; 
 and in the same address he announced that, while the tale of 
 ' Philip ' had been passing through the press, he had been prepar- 
 ing another, on which he had worked at intervals for many years 
 past, and which he hoped to introduce in the following year. 
 
 In a pecuniary sense the ' Cornhill Magazine ' had undoubt- 
 edly proved a fortunate venture for its editor. It was during his 
 editorship that he removed from his house, No. 36 Onslow Square, 
 
THE NEW RESIDENCE. 
 
 491 
 
 in which he had resided for some years, to the more congenial 
 neighbourhood of the Palace at Kensington, that ' Old Court 
 Suburb' which Leigh Hunt has gossiped about so pleasantly. 
 Thackeray took upon a long lease a somewhat dilapidated man- 
 sion, on the west side of Kensington Palace Gardens. His inten- 
 tion was to repair and improve it, but he finally resolved to pull it 
 down and build another in its stead. The new house, a hand- 
 some, solid mansion of choice red brick with stone facings, was 
 built from a design drawn by himself; and in this house he con- 
 tinued to reside till the time of his death. ' It was,' says Hannay, 
 
 Fallinsr foul of the Skirts 
 
 1 a dwelling worthy of one who really represented literature in the 
 great world, and who, planting himself on his books, yet sustained 
 the character of his profession with all the dignity of a gentleman. 
 A friend who called on him there from Edinburgh, in the summer 
 of 1862, knowing of old his love of the Venusian, playfully reminded 
 him of what Horace says of those who, regardless of their sepulchre, 
 employ themselves in building houses : 
 
 Sepulchri 
 Immemor struts domos. 
 
492 THACKERAYANA. 
 
 " Nay," said he, " I am mentor sepidchri, for this house will always 
 let for so many hundreds (mentioning the sum) a year." ' We may 
 add that Thackeray was always of opinion that, notwithstanding 
 the somewhat costly proceeding of pulling down and re-erecting, 
 he had achieved the rare result, for a private gentleman, of build- 
 ing for himself a house which, regarded as an investment of a por- 
 tion of his fortune, left no cause for regret. 
 
 Our narrative draws to a close. The announcement of the 
 death of Thackeray, coming so suddenly upon us in the very 
 midst of our great Christian festival of 1863, caused a shock which 
 will be long remembered. His hand had been missed in the last 
 two numbers of the ' Cornhill Magazine,' but only because he had 
 been engaged in laying the foundation of another of those con- 
 tinuous works of fiction which his readers so eagerly expected. In 
 the then current number of the ' Cornhill Magazine ' the cus- 
 tomary orange -coloured fly-leaf had announced that ' a new serial 
 story ' by him would be commenced early in the new year; but 
 the promise had scarcely gone abroad when we learnt that the 
 hand which had penned its opening chapters, in the full prospect 
 of a happy ending, could never again add line or word to that 
 long range of writings which must always remain one of the best 
 evidences of the strength and beauty of our English speech. 
 
 On the Tuesday preceding he had followed to the grave his 
 relative, Lady Rodd, widow of Vice-Admiral Sir John Tremayne 
 Rodd, K.C.B., who was the daughter of Major James Rennell, 
 F.R.S., Surveyor- General of Bengal, by the daughter of the Rev. 
 Dr. Thackeray, Head Master of Harrow School. Only the day 
 before this, according to a newspaper account, he had been con- 
 gratulating himself on having finished four numbers of a new 
 novel; he had the manuscript in his pocket, and with a boyish 
 frankness showed the last pages to a friend, asking him to read 
 them and see what he could make of them. When he had com- 
 pleted four numbers more he said he would subject himself to the 
 skill of a very clever surgeon, and be no more an invalid. Only 
 two days before he had been seen at his club in high spirits ; but 
 with all his high spirits, he did not seem well ; he complained of 
 illness ; but he was often ill, and he laughed of! his present attack. 
 He said that he was about to undergo some treatment which 
 would work a perfect cure in his system, and so he made light of 
 
ILLNESS AND DEATH. 493 
 
 his malady. He was suffering from two distinct complaints, one 
 of which had now wrought his death. More than a dozen years 
 before, while he was writing ' Pendennis,' the publication of that 
 work was stopped by his serious illness. He was brought to 
 death's door, and he was saved from death by Dr. Elliotson, to 
 whom, in gratitude, he dedicated the novel when he lived to finish 
 it. But ever since that ailment he had been subject every month 
 or six weeks to attacks of sickness, attended with violent retching. 
 He was congratulating himself, just before his death, on the failure 
 of his old enemy to return, and then he checked himself, as if he 
 ought not to be too sure of a release from his plague. On the 
 morning of Wednesday, December 23, the complaint returned, and 
 he was in great suffering all day. He was no , better in the even- 
 ing, and his valet, Charles Sargent, left him at eleven o'clock on 
 Wednesday night, Thackeray wishing him * Good night ' as he 
 went out of the room. At nine o'clock on the following morning 
 the valet, entering his master's chamber as usual, found him lying 
 on his back quite still, with his arms spread over the coverlet ; but 
 he took no notice, as he was accustomed to see his master thus 
 after one of his severe attacks. He brought some coffee and 
 set it down beside the bed ; and it was only when he returned 
 after an interval, and found that the cup had not been tasted, that 
 a sudden alarm seized him, and he discovered that his master was 
 dead. About midnight Thackeray's mother, who slept overhead, 
 had heard him get up and walk about the room ; but she was not 
 alarmed, as this was a habit of her son when unwell. It is sup- 
 posed that he had, in fact, been seized at this time, and that the 
 violence of the attack had brought on the effusion on the brain 
 which, as the post-mortem examination showed, was the immediate 
 cause of death. His medical attendants attributed his death to 
 effusion on the brain, and added that he had a very large brain, 
 weighing no less than 58^ oz. 
 
 Thus, in the full maturity of his powers, died William 
 Makepeace Thackeray, one of the closest observers of human 
 nature, the most kindly of English humourist's ; and his death has 
 left a blank in our literature, which we, in the present generation 
 at least, are offered no prospect of seeing filled up. To quote 
 once more his friend Hannay's words : c It is long since England 
 has lost such a son ; it will be long before she has such another 
 
494 
 
 THACKERA VAN A. 
 
 to lose. He was indeed emphatically English — English as distinct 
 from Scotch, no less than English as distinct from Continental. 
 The highest, purest English novelist since Fielding, he combined 
 Addison's love of virtue, with Johnson's hatred of cant ; Horace 
 Walpole's lynx eye for the mean and ridiculous, with the gentleness 
 and wide charity for mankind, as a whole, of Goldsmith. Non 
 omnis mortuus est. He will be remembered in his succession 
 with these men for ages to come, as long as the hymn of praise 
 rises in the old Abbey of Westminster, and wherever the English 
 tongue is native to men, from the banks of the Ganges to those of 
 the Mississippi.' 
 
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